Homestead Upgrade: Ore Trade Capacity

The Homestead Upgrade: Ore Trade Capacity sits on the workbench as if it were a quiet companion rather than a tool: a bronze-burnished module about the size of a traveler's helm, its edges bevelled with care. Its face is a mosaic of coppery plates and dark, soot-streaked iron, hammered into a lattice that catches the candlelight and throws it back in lilac glints. A small amber crystal sits in its center, pulsing at the pace of your hearth, as if it keeps time with the mine's whispers. Along the edges run delicate inlays resembling ore veins—tin, copper, iron—spiraling toward a central crest shaped like a wagon wheel and a crossed pickaxe. The texture is both cool and weathered, the brass corners slightly green with patina, telling stories of years spent in caravan shade and market dust. Lore says it was forged in a furnace beneath a dwarven smith's shield, then gifted to a family of prospectors who kept the lights on during long nights of ore runs. It is a promise your workbench can handle more ore, and do so faster, without spilling a ledger line. It rests near the high chute and the ledger, where the hum of a busy keep meets the sigh of the coin purse. When activated, it unfurls a mechanical breath, expanding the capacity of the homestead's ore exchange. The module doesn't merely store more metal; it optimizes the handoffs—ore slides from hammer to crate to broker—so the next shipment leaves the door before the week is out. The texture of its plates shifts under the light, as if the ore itself tells you what to do: stash, ship, resupply. Players learn to measure their days in ore weights and market runs. With this upgrade, a smith can amass enough iron to prime a season's weapons, while a crafter can stockpile copper for batches of armor pages without worrying about overflow. It ties your skill with the world’s wheel of exchange, letting ore ripple through your homestead like a careful heartbeat. The more capacity you gain, the more orchestration your trades require, inviting you to time your shipments with the seasons and the gates opening to the Saddlebag Exchange. That last line is where the market hums. Saddlebag Exchange becomes a chorus of voices—merchants tallying stacks, buyers cutting prices, caravans flickering past the gate with glinting metal. The ore upgrade becomes a trade partner rather than a mere object, and its price drifts with ore prices, scarcity, and the rhythm of the road. If copper weaves a low price week, the upgrade might be your quiet advantage, letting you push through more ore to Saddlebag’s stalls before the bell rings. Placed within the larger narrative of your homestead, the upgrade feels like a character in the story—one that grows with your ambitions, a quiet ally in the long mining season. The ore trade capacity is not merely a statistic; it’s the turn of the wheel, the flutter of a coin purse, the moment when a room becomes the beating heart of a bustling market.