by Pirateaba
That was another thing. Geneva’s knowledge of medical prosthesis was heads and shoulders above the crude stumps and peg legs that people here used. Everything from penicillin to blood transfusions would revolutionize this world, and all she needed was time, coin, and the people with the right skills or Skills to help her. That was what she could do. Ken wasn’t sure what he could do.
He was a Level 18 [Negotiator] now. His leveling had been meteoric that first night he’d slept and it seemed like this was what he wanted to do. Luan was convinced his rowing abilities could be put to use as a [Scout], or a Runner delivering messages. And Daly?
He was a [Warrior]. Not just a [Warrior], but an [Axe Fighter]. He still believed what he’d told Ken. There were times to run and times to fight. Whatever the others did, he and some of the other Humans who’d been in Gravetender’s Fist would be there to protect them. Now he leaned back, chewing and spoke thoughtfully.
“You know, the Red Cross company isn’t a bad name. But it doesn’t have the right ring to it, especially if we’re going to be fighting. That’s why I was thinking Geneva could have her company, and we’ll make our own.”
The others looked at him. Ken’s heart sank.
“But if you are in another company Daly, won’t we separate?”
“Yeah. There’s that. But we’re not Red Cross. We might fight, or take guard jobs. I don’t think Geneva’s willing to call us Red Cross, and I wouldn’t like that either.”
Geneva nodded quietly. Besides Okasha, several other Selphids had appeared one day, and Calectus was still sticking around. They wanted something from her, and Ken sometimes worried what it was.
“But we shouldn’t form different companies. Or if we do—we should all be part of one larger company. We’re on the same side. Ken showed us that. We have to work together. All of us.”
Luan was speaking, and Daly was nodding and spreading his hands wide, not disagreeing, but not having an answer he could give. To Ken’s surprise, Geneva smiled, and because that was rare and special, everyone looked at her.
“You know, I think we have something like that. Back in our world.”
It took Luan a moment to catch on to what she was saying, Aiko five seconds, Daly six, and Ken had to have Aiko whisper the answer to him before his face lit up. The others instantly agreed that it was a good idea. They were talking about having Quallet join to help them out as a paid leader when Daly frowned, looking worried.
“What about Lizardfolk? Dullahans? Centaurs? Selphids? And other races, are we going to let them all in?”
“Why not?”
Luan laughed and nudged Daly. The Australian man looked covertly at Quexa and she waved at him and told everyone that he kept staring at her. He laughed and that was that.
Everyone was better than no one. Ken realized their new company would have all kinds of people in it. People like Aiko, who had talents that could be used outside of fighting, people like Geneva, who were useful wherever they went. There would be fighters like Daly who could do what was needed, and peerless people like Luan who had one skill they could do better than anyone else.
And then there was Ken. He’d help them all get along. That was his calling, and that was what made him happy. He liked understanding people, and he believed in people. That wasn’t always easy.
It was now. Ken found a cup and raised it. He’d explained how to toast in Japanese, and now the others raised their cups, shells, or in Daly’s case, tankard, with him. They didn’t shout ‘乾杯’, though. Instead, they looked at each other and smiled.
“Together?”
Luan looked at Ken. Ken grinned and looked at Aiko. She blinked, glanced at Daly, and then looked at Geneva. Two souls looked out from her eyes, and Geneva smiled again.
“Together.”
—-
A little while later, an angry Fraerling paced back and forth on his desk, reading the reports that were written on pages as tall as he was. Niers Astoragon was not in a good mood, and the reason for that was the chessboard behind him.
It was ghostly, the pieces magical. They had been set up in the middle of a game and they had stayed in that same place for…what? Months? Years?
Probably just a month. But that was too much. Niers glanced at a letter with gold-rimmed edges. He studied a map of Izril. He kicked over a tiny cup of wine and grudgingly read the latest report before the wine made the ink illegible.
It was a general report of the newest companies, the recent events in one corner of Baleros. A [Strategist] had to know how the winds were blowing as well as rumor and gossip in order to do his job. Well, some strategists could just wing it and did better ignorant than they did well-informed, but Niers preferred knowledge to idiocy.
He sighed as he studied the outcome of the battle between the Razorshard Armor company and the Roving Arrow company.
“Fools, all of them.”
There was no return for either company. Their reputations were ruined, and they had destroyed themselves fighting over a valley that was practically unusable now. Neither side would back down and so everyone lost. Typical of Centaurs and Dullahans, really.
Something caught his eye as Niers absently paged through the report. This was about a new company that had declared itself. That wasn’t in itself noteworthy; new companies could come and go in the drop of a hat. Three drunken idiots could call themselves a company, so his [Spies] and [Informants] had to sift carefully through all the rumors and declarations to pick out companies that might actually be noteworthy.
There was little special to recommend this one, which was why it was just a few lines in the report. It had a few sub-companies, listed with less than a hundred members in each. That was also normal, but it was the name of the entire overall company that caught Niers’ eye because it was so audacious.
What a name. Who would come up with it, in Baleros of all places? But there it sat, glaring up at Niers. A declaration to the world. A statement of intent, or what the company represented? He had no idea. Niers stared down at the name written in ink.
The United Nations.
That was it. No appellation marking them as a company. No declared ties marking them as a part of a larger company or affiliated with another group. They had a strong connection with a local Naga war vendor…and several of their members were former undead suppression company members. One of them, Quallet Marshhand, was an individual of some skill.
But nothing more.
United. It was a word Niers had dreamed of, had spoken to the other Great Companies of Baleros about. It was a hope for this continent, for a world, that Magnolia had tempted him with. But it was an empty dream.
Yet someone had the same one. Niers glanced at the name and memorized it, just in case. Then he flipped the page and kept reading. He had a job to do. Every now and then, Niers would glance at the chessboard’s pieces that had not moved and look away.
There was something curious about Niers after the report. He was still in a bad mood, but as he filed the report away he had a curious sensation. It was a subtle feeling, but he had trained himself not to ignore his instincts. Something cried out to him as he opened the report and stared down at the name in ink.
Yes, he could feel it. It wasn’t coincidence. It wasn’t chance. This was only the start. And everything he had witnessed, all the little pieces, they were falling into place. Something was happening.
The world was beginning to move again. Behind Niers, on the chessboard, a piece slowly slid forwards and stopped.
4.18
In the hour after she woke up, Erin learned much of screaming. More specifically, of being screamed at. It wasn’t a pleasant experience at the best of times, even if you liked the person who was screaming at you.
And Erin did not like Miss Agnes. Not anymore. For that matter, she didn’t much like Maran or Safry, and she deeply regretted hiring them. Unfortunately, regrets meant little at this point.
“—thieving monster! You stole my best workers, my business—I shou
ldn’t be surprised if I found you stole money from me as well! When I, out of the goodness of my heart, let you work in my inn, I never expected—”
“Shut up, Miss Agnes.”
“How dare you!”
The angry [Innkeeper] and owner of the Frenzied Hare shrieked as Erin glared at her. She was spitting as she yelled, and Erin had had enough. It had been two minutes since she had stormed into Erin’s inn and begun yelling—her and two other older Humans, one a man in his late forties, the other a woman who was as old as Miss Agnes, but had aged far better.
Erin glanced at them as Agnes drew breath for another tirade. She waved away Lyonette and Ishkr who were hovering about and walked out of spit-range as Miss Agnes began to shout.
“Don’t you dare turn away from me, you—you brazen hussy! You ingrate! I should be calling the Watch on you! I said to come back! Do you hear me!? Do you—”
She really needed better insults. Erin had heard Ryoka say a lot worse than ‘brazen hussy’ when she stubbed her toe. She walked into the kitchen as Miss Agnes shouted. The older [Innkeeper] stormed after Erin—
And backed away fast as Erin walked out of the kitchen with a knife and a frying pan. The other man and woman stood up as Erin calmly stared at Miss Agnes, who’d gone white. In the refreshing silence, someone coughed.
“Need a hand, Erin?”
“No, I’m fine, Ceria. Sorry about the noise everyone. Ishkr, Lyonette, just keep serving food. I’ll handle this.”
She waved at the Horns of Hammerad and addressed the room. The Gold-rank adventurers who’d been trying to enjoy their breakfast in peace, as well as Erin’s staff got back to work. Most of them kept staring, though. Pisces was already taking bets from Jelaqua and Typhenous on whether it would come to a fight.
“It’s never boring here. Never. I could eat and watch this all day if I wasn’t worried my body’s stomach would explode.”
Erin ignored the Selphid’s comment as she slowly pursued Miss Agnes back to the table. The man who’d come in with her, a guy with a bushy red beard and his fair share of wrinkles, coughed delicately.
“Miss Agnes, I believe you’ve upset, ah, Miss Solstice is it? Why don’t we start again. Miss Solstice, please, there’s no need for violence.”
“There’s no need for shouting, either. How about a deal? You shout and I’ll poke. Now, what’s this about?”
Erin deliberately put the knife and pan on the table as she sat back down. The other two stared at her as Agnes edged her chair back towards them. The woman’s face was dead white. All bark and no bite, Erin guessed.
It was the other woman who coughed delicately.
“Miss Solstice—”
“My first name is Erin.”
“Miss Erin, then. I fear we’ve gotten off to a bad start.”
The woman gave her a charming smile. She had a few streaks of grey running through her long brown hair, but she was still in good shape. She had a very nice smile, and a friendly air that made Erin want to relax around her. However, because that put Erin in mind of Lady Magnolia’s sweet words, the effect of the Skill was severely diluted. Erin crossed her arms.
“Who are you and what do you want?”
The smile faltered. The woman exchanged a glance with the man. He stood up and offered Erin a callused hand.
“Timbor Parithad, at your service, Miss Erin. My apologies for Agnes. I am the owner of the Drunken Swordsman, one of the finest inns in Celum.”
The Drunken Swordsman? Erin vaguely recalled hearing about the inn, but she’d never been inside. Erin shook Timbor’s hand. The woman sitting next to him smiled again, without the Skill.
“Ulia Ovena. I’m an [Innkeeper] as well. I run Blazehound, an inn just off of the main street. We cater to adventurers—we’re more like a bar than an inn, to be honest.”
“Hi. I’m Erin. What are you doing in my inn?”
The [Innkeepers] exchanged a glance. Timbor coughed, and looked at Agnes, but the woman stared at him as if, after shouting and threatening Erin, her role was at an end. He turned and smiled at Erin.
“Miss Erin, I’m afraid we’re here about the unpleasant business revolving around Miss Agnes’ inn and yours. We heard that another [Innkeeper] had been helping to manage the Frenzied Hare of course, and then there was that commotion around the magic door the Horns of Hammerad brought to the city…well, we knew there was an inn here, but we hadn’t introduced ourselves properly before, well, as we understand it, there were a few disputes between Miss Agnes’ inn and yours. We’re here to discuss the matter, as it were.”
“Yeah?”
Erin raised her eyebrows. The longwinded speech had done little to make her feel happier about the other [Innkeepers] being here. She hadn’t had breakfast yet. Timbor’s smile wavered. Ulia took over without missing a beat. She had a pleasant voice, too. Charming voice, nice looks, great smile…was all that from her Skills?
“Miss Agnes has told us a few things, Miss Erin. She believes you brought some business to her inn and then took it away. These ah, [Actors] that have put on those marvelous plays in Celum—”
“Fascinating stuff. Had to see one myself. Hamlet. What a stunning performance. I had no idea that Watch Captain could perform like that.”
Timor coughed as Ulia glared at him. The female innkeeper continued.
“Yes, well, Miss Agnes seems to think that you stole her business, since the group mostly eats at your inn and they perform elsewhere now. And then of course, there’s the matter of Safry and Maran. You ah, stole them from Miss Agnes—”
“I hired them. They wanted to work in my inn.”
“Yes…but then you fired them. Not three days after they’d begun working. We’ve spoken with both young women and they’re quite upset.”
Erin shrugged. Her face was stony.
“They were terrible workers.”
“How dare you.”
Miss Agnes glared at Erin, rage overcoming fear for a moment. She pointed a trembling finger at Erin.
“They were my best workers! My only workers! And you took them and then threw them away! For a Gnoll and a Drake? How dare you? How dare—”
Timor dragged Miss Agnes down into her seat as she tried to stand up. He smiled weakly at Erin.
“We’re here on their behalf, Miss Erin. We, that is to say, the innkeepers of Celum, feel there’s been a bit of a miscarriage of justice, and we’d like to sort all this out without getting the law involved.”
So that’s what it was. Erin stared from face to face.
“The innkeepers? You mean, you’re representing all the innkeepers in Celum? What, are you some sort of Guild? The Innkeeper’s Guild?”
Ulia smiled as Timor snorted.
“Not a Guild, Miss Erin. An association.”
Erin stared. She could do a blank stare incredibly well, and, what most people didn’t know, she could do it even when she knew what was going on. Sometimes she did it just to annoy Ryoka or Pisces. In this case, Erin knew what Ulia meant, but she bought time as the woman explained it to her in order to think.
An association was different from a Guild. Formal Guilds like the Runner’s Guild, Merchant’s Guild, Adventurer’s Guild, and so on had wide-ranging networks that spread across continents. There was an Adventurer’s Guild in most cities, and if the ones in Izril were distinct from how Terandrian Guilds did their business, they were all based around the same idea.
However, associations were just that. No one was going to join the Innkeeper’s Guild because that sounded stupid and [Innkeepers] and [Barmaids] had better things to do. A Guild was a lot of work to maintain and there was no point to having one. But in a city, all the [Innkeepers] would still know of each other and support each other if they had a good relationship. It was like how Krshia had a network of [Shopkeepers] and [Merchants] in Liscor she could direct business to and get help from.
An association could be a very powerful thing. Or a pain in the ass. The not-quite-smiling [Innkeepers] sitting in front
of her were clearly hinting that they could be one or the other, and yet they still failed to intimidate Erin.
A few weeks ago, Erin had dealt with annoying Frost Faeries who could bury her inn in ice if she annoyed them. As far as she was concerned, the association of Celum’s [Innkeepers] weren’t half as annoying as a single faerie.
“So that’s where the matter rests, Miss Erin. If the [Barmaids] weren’t to your satisfaction, well, it’s still unfair to Miss Agnes to take her help, and to them. They’re jobless now, and of course they can’t go back to the Frenzied Hare. But I’ve had a chat with some of the others and Timor’s agreed to put them in his inn and trade Miss Agnes a few of his workers. So that’s settled. However, this issue of taking workers and business…”
They were threatening her. Before she’d had her poached eggs and cheese sauce on toasted bread. Erin had worked hard on that breakfast—yesterday. Lyonette had warmed it up and it was lovely and hot. It was getting cold. Erin’s eyes narrowed.
“I gave Miss Agnes that business. I helped the [Actors]. They’re not her clients. Her inn’s too small to do a proper play in, anyways. And Maran and Safry were lazy, cowardly, and huge jerks. They wanted to join my inn, and that was because I was willing to pay more than Miss Agnes.”
“You can’t just—”
Agnes shut up as Ulia gave her a warning glance. Ulia smiled apologetically at Erin and spread her hands on the table.
“Miss Erin—may I call you Erin?”
“No.”
“Ah. Miss Erin, then. We’ve been [Innkeepers] for many years. As many years as you’ve been alive, I’ll wager. And while we in Celum understand competition is healthy, there’s a lot to be said for working together. If everyone was fighting over patrons and stealing each other’s best workers, well, things could get nasty. That’s why our, ah, association works together. What would you call a system where everyone was at each other’s throats, fighting for customers? Anarchy?”
“How about a free market?”
Ryoka was passing by the table. She waved at Erin and pointed to the poached egg on her plate.
