<h4>Chapter 47: Miniature models</h4>


    (Arthur POV)


    The sun''s barely up, and I''m already unlocking the studio doors. To my surprise, there''s Imkrag, our half-imp, half-dwarf Gollum, looking like he''s been camped out all night.


    I can''t help but smile. "You''re here early. Excited?"


    Imkrag''s practically vibrating with nervous energy. "Yes, Your Royal Highness. I''m very excited for the role."


    I chuckle, shaking my head. "Hey, ease up on the ''Your Highness'' bit, alright? I''m not exactly rolling in royal status these days."


    "Understood, Your High—" Imkrag catches himself, flushing. "I mean..."


    "Arthur''s fine. Or Sir Arthur if you''re feeling fancy. Boss works too." I give him what I hope is a reassuring smile. "Whatever makes youfortable."


    "Okay, boss," Imkrag says, giving me a salute that''s half respect, half nerves.


    I nod, gesturing towards the studio. "Come on in. Time to meet the team."


    As we walk in, I can feel Imkrag tensing up beside me. Poor guy looks like he''s about to face a dragon, not a bunch of sleep-deprived film crew.


    "Everyone," I call out, getting their attention. "This is Imkrag. He''s our Gollum. Let''s make him feel wee, yeah?"


    The crew nods, a mix of curious nces and polite smiles. I turn to our transformation team – makeup artists, dieticians, and our resident potion expert.


    "I need you guys to help Imkrag get into character. I''ve drawn up a list of potions and a diet n that should get him looking like the Gollum I''ve got in mind."


    As I hand over the ns, I can see Imkrag''s eyes widening. Guess he''s realizing this role might be more intense than he thought.


    "Don''t worry," I say, patting him on the shoulder. "We''re not going to turn you into a frog or anything. Though if we did, it might make those river scenes easier to film."


    A few chuckles ripple through the crew, and I see Imkrag''s shoulders rx a bit. Good. A littleughter goes a long way in breaking the ice.


    With Imkrag sorted, I make my way to check on the art team. As I push open the door to their workspace, I''m hit by the smell of paint and glue. It''s oddlyforting.


    The room is a hive of activity, my artists hunched over intricate miniature models for "The Lord of the Rings". I can''t help but feel a surge of pride. This concept ispletely new to them, probably to the whole industry, but they''re taking to it like ducks to water.


    "You guys are making great progress," I say, making my presence known. A few heads snap up, startled. "Looks like creating this art department was worth every penny."


    Roy, our wolf demon team leader, turns to me with a grin that shows off his impressive canines. "d you like our work, boss."


    I give his shoulder a pat as I lean in to examine the nearlyplete model of Isengard. The detail is breathtaking - each tiny stone, every miniature tower exactly as I''d imagined it.


    "This is incredible, Roy," I say, gesturing to the model. "You''ve captured it perfectly."


    Roy''s chest puffs up with pride, but he''s quick to deflect the praise. "If not for your drawings, boss, we''d be lost. They''re our guiding light."


    I can''t help but smile. He''s right, of course. A week ago, when the system unlocked the "skills shop" (thank you, "Demonfather" sess), I immediately splurged on drawing skills. It was a necessity - how else could I convey these fictional locations to my team?


    "Well, I''m d they''re helping," I say, running a finger along the tiny walls of Isengard. "But you''re the ones bringing them to life. This is... it''s like seeing my memories take physical form."


    I catch myself, realizing how odd that must sound. But if the team thinks it''s strange, they don''t show it. They''re too engrossed in their work, hands steady as they paint microscopic bricks and shape minuscule trees.


    "How are we looking time-wise?" I ask, turning back to Roy. "Think we''ll be ready for filming on schedule?"


    Roy scratches his chin, leaving a smudge of paint in his fur. "It''ll be tight, boss, but we''ll make it. The team''s really fired up about this project."


    I nod, feeling a surge of excitement. "Good. Keep up the great work, everyone. You''re making magic here."


    As I turn to leave, I can''t help but take onest look at the room. These miniatures, these tiny worlds taking shape under skilled hands - they''re more than just models. They''re the first step in bringing my vision to life.


    Changing the topic, I''ve been racking my brains trying to solve our orc casting problem. We''ve managed to find a few Orc Demons here in the Morningstar Kingdom, but it''s like looking for a needle in a haystack. We need an army, not a handful.


    The real jackpot of Orc Demons is over in the Thorn Kingdom. It''s a smaller demon realm across the sea, technically our neighbor but... well, it''splicated.


    The Thorn Kingdom used to be part of our territory. But they broke away years ago, established their own government on that ind. It''s been a sore spot for the Morningstar royals ever since. Dad''s always going on about "reunification" at the dinner table. Makes for some awkward family meals, let me tell you.


    Politics aside, it''s a headache for our production. The Orc Demons over there might not be too keen on ying extras in a Morningstar Kingdom film. There''s a lot of bad blood, understandably.


    I''ve been tossing around the idea of using primal orcs from our dangerous forests as an alternative. They''re not quite as advanced as Orc Demons, but physically, there''s not much difference. They''re more tribal, no demon blood in the mix, but they could work in a pinch.


    It''s a tricky situation. On one hand, using Thorn Kingdom Orc Demons would be ideal for authenticity. On the other, it could open up a whole can of political worms. And let''s face it, I''ve got enough on my te without adding international incidents to the mix.


    The primal orcs are a safer bet, politically speaking. But they''re, well, primal. Training them for a film shoot could be... interesting, to say the least.


    I shake my head, pushing thoughts of orc casting to the back of my mind. That''s a problem for future Arthur. Right now, I''ve got bigger fish to fry - namely, our uing shoot in the Gloomstone Forest.


    Twenty miles might not sound like much, but when you''re hauling an entire film crew and their equipment, it might as well be on the moon. The logistics alone are enough to give me a migraine. But then again, when has anything about this project been easy?


    Thankfully, I''ve got an ace up my sleeve - or rather, a stone in my pocket.


    I finger the small, smooth rock I picked up from the system''s "Magic Shop". To the untrained eye, it looks like any other pebble you''d find on the street. But this little beauty? It''s a portal stone.


    The n is simple: set up a teleportation point here at the studio, then physically travel to Gloomstone Forest to establish another point there. After that? Instant travel between locations. No more day-long trips, no more caravans of equipment. Just step through and boom - you''re there.


    Portal travel used to bemonce back in the ancient times, but now? It''s rarer than a friendly dragon. Only the bigwigs in government and royalty have ess to portal stones these days. For the average people, they''re the stuff of legends.


    Which is exactly why this needs to stay under wraps. Thest thing I need is some nosy higher-up getting wind of this and deciding to "confiscate" our little shortcut in the name of national security or whatever.


    I''ve already got a n forming. Key crew members only. Hidden locations for the portal points. For the main shoot, most of the team can stay on location. Me and a select few can handle the back-and-forth, keeping everyone supplied without raising suspicion.