by R. A. Mejia
I looked around the room at the men talking to themselves and said loudly, “Sounds like you’re trying to recruit us after all.”
Geoffrey turned and gave the men a scolding look and they returned to their paperwork. He turned back to us and said, “None of our concern really.”
“Well, then about getting some equipment,” I said.
The man shrugged and said, “We rent basic equipment for a daily rate for fifty percent of your ore haul. Alternatively, you could buy copper picks for ten silvers each.”
The price seemed outrageous and based on the schematic of the mining pick I had and the prices at the Merchant’s Guild, I knew that they were trying to rip us off. A pick had about 3 pounds worth of metal, and even if I was buying iron for 2 silvers a pound, much less copper at 50 copper a pound, it wouldn’t cost as much as they were asking for. “You charge your miners ten silvers for some cheap copper tools?”
As if expecting the reply, Geoffrey quickly answered, “No, we charge our competition that much. We provide our employees with everything they’ll need to be productive and safe while in our employ. But if we’re equipping people that we will compete within the dungeon, you can be sure we’ll be making a profit off them.”
Affronted by the attempt to price gouge us we left without another word, Greebo cursing the Dungeon Diggers in goblinoid, and the miners laughed at us as we left the building.
Thinking about the mining pick schematic I had sparked an idea for me. Outside the mining company’s office, I said to Greebo. “I have an idea about how to get us the equipment we need. But we should also start getting together people whom we could train as miners. While I get the equipment, why don’t you go back to your apartment to see who would be interested in some work as a miner, including getting the class.”
Greebo agreed with the plan and we split up. He headed to the Northern District, and I went to the Crafter’s District.
The Crafter’s District was full of hustle and bustle, with a myriad of workers and crafters moving and working. Each of the empty shops and stations that I had peeked in on during the holiday was now occupied by a busy worker. While I was sorely tempted to talk to each of the crafters and get information on how to start in on learning each craft, I knew I had a different goal today. I walked past all the workshops to the blacksmith buildings.
They were separated from the other heat-sensitive or combustible buildings, and their forges were burning hot. I could hear the clang of a hammer hitting metal and see the many forges aflame with smoke pouring from pipes on the roofs. I ignored most of the people and headed to the Orc Smith, Deanly, whom I’d talked to the other day while exploring the district for the first time. It was he who had told me that the Merchant’s Guild controlled the crafting materials and that they could not sell them directly to people.
Deanly had his great flowing black beard braided into his exposed chest hair, which apparently helped protect him from the high temperatures of the forge as he worked at the anvil. He only wore a thick leather apron and leather pants to protect himself, and each swing of the hammer in his hands sent sparks flying as he bent and shaped the red-hot metal he held with tongs in his other hand. I watched as he took the metal, which vaguely looked like a sword, and put it back into the forge to heat up again. He left the metal there and turned to face me while two younger orcs with close-cut beards shoveled coal into the forge and pumped a bellow to keep it heated.
“I know you. You’re that golem that was asking about the crafters the day after Remembrance Day. You come back to learn how to smith?”
I was tempted to say yes and start my training in the craft, but I focused on my goal instead. “I would love to take you up on that offer another day, but for now, I need to outfit some miners I’m hiring to work for me. I was wondering if you had any iron picks you could sell me?”
The bearded orc shrugged. “I’m not a merchant. I don’t have tools or weapons lying around, but I could make you some iron picks.” He scrunched up his face as if thinking about something then continued, “It would cost you several gold pieces to buy anything I could make, but one of my apprentices could make you something of poor quality for eight silver a pick.”
I thought about it for a moment. Greebo and I could technically afford the cost, but with the addition of buying the class for several people, it would tap us out, and we would still need to get the miners their hats and lights. I shook my head, “No, I actually know how to make the iron picks myself, but I just don’t have the iron I need to do it.
Deanly tilted his head and studied me. I imagined he was wondering how I knew how to make the iron picks when I’d told him I didn't have the blacksmithing skill. But he didn’t ask the question. Instead, he turned and walked inside the workshop and with a pair of long tongs and took the heated metal he’d placed there out of the forge. The metal had an orange and white color, and the smith immediately took it back to the anvil to pound away at it. I stayed silent as I watched him work. The cords of his muscles were taunt beneath his green skin as he hammered away, and when the metal of the blade started to cool, the orc smith put the metal into the forge again and then came back to me.
“While I would like to help you, I told you before that you’d have to join the Crafter’s or Merchant’s Guild to buy those resources. I can’t sell them to you. Sorry.”
“That’s fine. I know that and maybe I will join one of the guilds one day. But, for now, I actually wanted to buy an iron doorstop. It would have to be the shape and size of an ingot but would totally be used to hold open doors.”
Deanly laughed heartily at my request. “Your request intrigues me. I’d not thought of selling iron doorstops.” He stroked his beard and thought about the request. “Fine. I can’t see what the guild could complain about as long as I was making a profit on the sale. How many iron ingots . . . err . . . iron doorstops do you want?”
I smiled at the orc. He understood that rules were there to be bent and that I wasn’t exactly breaking them. “I would like 12 pounds worth please. How much will that cost me?”
“Twenty-four silver,” he answered without hesitation.
“That’s the same cost that I saw at the Merchant’s guild--two silver a pound. You said you needed to sell them at a profit, didn’t you?”
“Ahh. I see your mistake. Those prices are for new members, but I have raised my reputation with my guild to get a reduced price on my materials. Don’t worry, I’m making enough profit that no one will complain.”
I handed over the silver and took the iron. It almost put me over my carry limit, but I still had a few pounds to spare before I became overburdened.
I thanked the orc for his assistance and promised to return soon to learn how to smith from him. He waved goodbye to me and returned to his work.
I returned to the merchant square and purchased four hats with light spells for 20 silver. I’d forgotten that, even though I had the schematic for the miner’s hats, I didn’t have the fabrication ability to make magical items.
I found Greebo and seven other goblins waiting for me by the dungeon fountain. They were all small, skinny, and looked like they didn’t eat very well.
Greebo walked up to me and gestured toward the goblins. “I gave everyone in my room the same offer. Some were pretty suspicious that we’d just pay for a class for nothing, but there were plenty who were willing to take a chance. From those guys, I picked these seven since I know them and know they won’t just run off after we give them the class.”
I briefly talked to each of the seven, and they confirmed that they were interested in our offer and they all thanked me for this opportunity. I knew that saving 10 silver had taken Greebo years before he met me, so I understood their excitement for this chance. Unfortunately, we only had enough iron to make four iron picks and coin to buy mining classes for four of them.
Greebo and I stepped aside and picked four of them. The other three looked discouraged until I told them that we’d be hiring more miners so
on and that they would get first crack at this deal again. This made them smile, and they walked away a little less dejected.
The four we chose were positively beaming and hurriedly introduced themselves. They were named: Innie, Meanie, Minnie, and Moe. I didn't want them to get the wrong impression about what we were doing, so I clearly set the terms for the operation. “We’re not investing in you four out of charity or to run any scam. We expect to make a profit out of all of this. But that doesn’t mean you won’t benefit too. The best deals, in my opinion, benefit everyone involved. We will pay the coin for the mining class and outfit each of you with the tools you need to work and escort you to a place in the dungeon you can mine and keep you safe. In return, we get ore from the dungeon until that investment is paid back. After that, we’ll pay above the market sell-rate for the ore you collect for us. Is this acceptable to each one of you?”
They each held out their hands and shook on it while accepting my offer. For each, I got a notification.
You’ve offered a deal to pay for the miner class, mining equipment, and provide security while mining. The recipient of the offer will turn over all ore mined until the cost of this investment is paid back. Then you will pay above-market rates for future ore. The offer has been accepted by both parties.
Your Haggle skill has increased to 5.
I wanted to laugh at the notification. I’d almost forgotten that all the deals made were recorded by whatever system governed this world. It made it very hard to go back on your word and very important to be careful about what you agreed to. Still, the four goblins looked pleased at their deal.
Greebo and I escorted the four goblins into the Adventurer’s Guild and waited for our turn to talk to Sandra. She was happy to see me again, but she took Greebo’s silver with a slightly annoyed expression. I think she’d hoped I would be the one to hand her the money. Still, an hour later, all four goblins were cheering together outside the guildhall, each now with the Miner class.
We didn't send the miner’s directly to the mine since I still needed to fabricate their picks. Instead, we went to the first floor of the dungeon and escorted the four goblin miners through, helping them to gain experience points from killing Scaledons. Each goblin had a knife, at least, and Greebo jumped in if they took on more than they could handle. While they fought, I sat and fabricated the iron picks. It took time to deconstruct the wood from the trees and then fabricate the picks, but overall, it was faster than it would have been before I invested my class points into abilities that increased fabrication speed. Hours later, all four poor iron picks were ready for use and the goblins were ready to go after having killed a few Scaledons and cooked the lizard meat they got as loot drops. Greebo excitedly told me that he’d also picked up Tier 1 cores from three of the bodies as extra loot.
We escorted the four goblin miners down to the third level of the dungeon. The monsters didn’t pose any challenge for either me or Greebo. We easily cleared a path, earning a bit of XP for our trouble, only to find that the mine wasn’t nearly as inactive as it had been when we were last there. Not only were there more low-level miners there, but there were also full camps set up outside with cooks, teams of miners, and guards.
There were signs that identified several of the camps as belonging to the Dungeon Diggers, Ludus Inc, Top Pick, and Rock Breakers Mining. The guards were there to protect the workers from monsters but did not stop adventurers from going into the mine. But we were warned that monsters had started to spawn in the tunnels again.
The goblin miners were nervous since they were only levels two and three, but we assured them that we would provide them protection while they worked. The monster threat was really overrated with small burrowing plants that popped up and attacked occasionally as our guys worked. On the whole, they were pretty easy to kill as long as we spotted them digging up from the ground early. The miners had their own skills to find ore and directed us down several tunnels to mine copper ore.
Our day ended with us exiting with a full load of ore, and Greebo looked like a small child carrying a huge pack almost three times his size. I’m really glad that we’d invested in the expanding bag. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have been able to leave with such a huge haul. The other miners came out with wheelbarrows full of ore to sell to the Merchant’s Guild or for their mining companies.
In addition to the massive load of ore, we had four very happy goblins. I could hear them talking among themselves as we all walked out of the dungeon.
“Greebo didn’t lie. He and the golem paid for it all and protected us while we in the mine,” Innie said.
The other three nodded and Moe asked the others, “Your mining skill go up too?”
The others nodded vigorously. They continued to talk about how much they liked mining and how much copper ore they each brought out. They were surprisingly competitive about who was the better miner.
Even on their first day, the miners produced more ore than Greebo and I could have. All while we got XP from killing monsters on the level. We each got 135 XP, and while it wasn’t as much as we’d have made if we’d focused our day on monster killing on the fifth level, we made more money.
The six of us stopped in front of the Adventurer’s Guild, the four goblins thanked Greebo and me profusely before leaving to sell their ore to the Merchant’s Guild. We’d decided that, after they mined enough to fill Greebo’s bag, the goblins could keep whatever else they mined that day so that they’d have enough money to live off of.
Greebo, fully laden with copper ore, walked with me to the Eastern District and the Gnomish Research Institute. Greebo had never been there before and got some side-eye from the rich people walking around the district. The two of us did stand out. We were both covered in dust, and Greebo was carrying a backpack so full of stuff that it looked like he was some kind of goblin Santa Clause. Eventually, we were stopped by two human policemen who were dressed in black uniforms with silver buttons, and each had truncheons and a black wand at their belt.
“What are you two hooligans doing in these parts?” one of them asked, stepping in front of us.
The other came up behind me, and I couldn’t see him while his partner talked. The one in front put his right hand on his weapon and raised an eyebrow in expectation.
“We ain’t doing nothing illegal, Bobbies. Why don’t you leave us alone?” Greebo asked, clear annoyance in his tone.
Greebo suddenly stumbled forward, and I turned to see that the policeman behind us had his truncheon in his hand and had poked Greebo’s backpack hard enough to throw him off balance. He squinted suspiciously and asked, “What do you got in here, gob? You rob someone?”
It felt demeaning to be questioned by the police for doing nothing more than existing. Part of me seethed angrily at the treatment, and I wanted nothing more than to tell the two off. Yet, another more rational part of my mind was only bothered at the waste of time and just didn’t want to stand there all night. I whispered the command to pull my metal identification plate from my internal inventory, and it appeared in the hand I had behind my back. I held the card out to the officer in front of us. “Here you go, sir. I belong to the Gnomish Research Institute.” It galled me to have to say I belonged to anyone but it was better than being taken to police headquarters or whatever this city’s equivalent was. I pointed at Greebo. “The goblin is carrying some ore for the researchers, and I am his escort.”
The policeman’s eyes widened when I spoke, but he quickly controlled his expression and snatched the proffered identification card from my hand. He examined it carefully and even scratched the surface with his thumbnail to make sure it was genuine. He handed it back and then casually said, “Well, you get back to your masters, you lazy machine. Ain’t no reason to keep them waiting.” Then he and the other policeman turned away and left.
Once they were out of earshot, I asked Greebo, “You ok? That guy didn’t hurt you, did he?”
Greebo shook his head. “Nah. I expected as much from the bobbies.
They always give a goblin a hard time when we come into this area. Let's just get going, yeah?”
We walked the rest of the way to the Institute in silence, but my eyes had seen just how we were treated in this district. When we arrived at the institute the gnome guards didn’t make a fuss about the Greebo. They checked to make sure his pack only had ore, then waved us through. We were both covered in dirt from the mine and we tracked it into the lab area, much to the consternation of Gnomerad and Tognomey who were waiting for me.
“Where have you been?” Gnomerad asked with an angry look on his face.
“What do you mean? I’ve been in the dungeon and around town. What’s it to you?” I asked annoyedly, my treatment by the police still fresh in my mind.
Gnomerad’s eyes widened, his nostrils flared, and his hand glowed green for a moment as he took a step forward. “You troublesome machine,” he muttered. “I ought to…” But he never finished his sentence as Tognomey stepped between us and placed a hand on Gnomerad’s shoulder. The glow around Gnomerad’s hand disappeared, and he turned away angrily.
