The light bulb went off in Max’s brain. “Two unclaimed, and potentially loot-filled settlements. Which would bring great wealth to those who got there first and claimed them, giving them the rights to sell off the properties at a one hundred percent profit.”
The merchants looked even more uncomfortable, except for the human, who was grinning. “You understand perfectly, King Max!” his reply surprised and mortified his companions.
“Chamberlain Redmane, how long would it take to travel to Deepcrag, or these other settlements, without using our portal?”
Attempting to suppress a grin under his beard, the dwarf answered, “If I remember correctly, the next nearest portal to that area would be… nine days’ walk from Deepcrag. A few days more or less to the other two.”
This time it was Max who was surprised. He’d imagined the town to be much closer to Stormhaven. To get a better idea of the scale, he asked, “And how would one get to that portal? Also, how long would it take to walk from here?”
“The only portal I know of that might still connect to that area, other than yer own, is the one in the former human city now occupied by An’zalor, Majesty. Deepcrag were a mainly human settlement when it was destroyed, one filled with outcasts and guarded by prisoners workin’ off their debts to the human king. As fer walkin from here… me best guess would be four weeks.”
From the look on the merchant’s faces, they had made a similar calculation.
“I see. That is valuable information indeed. Thank you.” Max looked at the spokesman for a moment, considering. “I have no objection to merchants earning an honest profit. And I see no problem with you wanting to be first to the prize, so to speak. Though I would have appreciated you being more forthright with your true intentions.” The elf winced at that.
“The way I see it, you very badly need permission to use my portal at Deepcrag to help you build your new empire. And while I’m not opposed to assisting you, I have a brand new kingdom of my own to grow. That takes resources, my friends. A lot of resources.”
The elf bowed his head slightly, acknowledging Max’s insinuation, while the gnomes’ faces showed absolute dismay. Max could practically hear the wailing inside their heads at the potential lost profits.
Taking the hint, the elf turned briefly to his companions, all of whom nodded. The gnomes last of all, and with sad looks on their faces. “Majesty, we would gladly assist you in your expansion efforts. To begin with, we would offer you the sum of ten thousand gold for the deed to my grandfather’s old residence, which we would use, at least temporarily, as our guild house. And another five thousand gold for a moderately sized warehouse. We would also be stationing a score of guards to protect our interests there, whom we would happily loan to your majesty if the need to defend the city arose.”
Max caught Redmane winking at him, still trying to suppress a smile.
“That seems a generous offer, though I remind you, I know little of these things. When you’ve presented your full offer, I’ll want to discuss it with a few of my advisors.”
“Of course, Majesty.” The dark elf bowed his head, before continuing. “As for the two nearby settlements. We would happily enter into favorable trade and taxation agreements that would assist Stormhaven in its development of Deepcrag. And of course, just as it was in the past, we would pay a tariff on any goods transported through the Deepcrag portal.”
Max shook his head, not needing to see the frown on Redmane’s face. “That sounds lovely, but you offer only what I would receive from everyone else seeking to use the portal. Give me a reason, my new friends, not to take my own people through that portal this afternoon and claim those other settlements before you could walk a tenth of the way there. Or to seek more favorable terms with another merchant group.”
Several of the merchants gasped at his bluntness, and the human was visibly sweating. The dark elf spokesman retained a poker face, seeming cool and collected.
An hour later, the merchants exited the throne room, heads shaking, but smiling. Max, with Redmane’s assistance, had reached a tentative agreement with them. He had promised to give them his final answer in two days, after consulting with his full staff of councilors.
The basic terms of the agreement were that Max would provide them access to the area via his portal, and not allow any others access for a period of one week. They would pay him his fifteen thousand gold for the residence and warehouse, and station thirty guards at Deepcrag. In addition, they would cover the salaries of one hundred of Max’s guards for a period of two years, payable on the first of each month. Failure to pay would result in loss of portal access.
Max would also receive the rights to twenty percent of the real estate in each of the other two settlements, to be held as embassies, or sold to buyers of his choice, but only after a year’s time, to give the merchants time to profit from the other properties. Max was fine with this, as they would be doing all the work to recruit residents, and hopefully raising the property values with each sale. One of his representatives, along with fifty soldiers, would accompany the merchants to both settlements and have first choice of the properties, excepting the main keeps themselves. Max had been tempted to insist on taking the keeps, but decided he didn’t want the responsibility for defending the residents.
In addition to the property holdings, Max would receive ten percent of the taxes collected for each settlement, and ten percent of the sales proceeds from the remainder of the real estate. This included any properties that changed hands more than once. Both the taxes and the sales proceeds would be paid to Stormhaven for a period of fifty years, and the properties he held would be his in perpetuity. Each of the merchants would be required to enter into an agreement sworn before the gods, and be responsible for enforcing it. Meaning any slight of hand or misreporting relative to the taxes collected, or real estate sales price, would have severe negative repercussions for them. They would also enter into a non-aggression agreement that covered the same fifty year period.
The second thing that happened that day, in fact within an hour of his discussion with the merchants, was that an assassin from the assassin’s guild showed up at the palace. Even more interesting, when that assassin was brought before Max in his study, it turned out to be none other than Nessa!
“Majesty, this be the one who can safely open yer boxes.” Redmane began to introduce her, but Max held up a hand and smiled. “Nessa, it’s good to see you again. But I have to ask… the assassin’s guild?”
Nessa shrugged. “My master was not pleased with the treasure I brought from the temple. She refused to consider the quest completed and grant me the rewards I was due. Not wanting to let my particular skills go to waste, or work as a clerk or barmaid, I had limited choices available to me. Had I gone out and… liberated valuables on my own, the thieves’ guild would have hunted me down. So I joined the assassin’s guild on a probationary basis. This job is my first test.”
“I see. Makes total sense.” Max grinned at the panthera. “How attached are you to the idea of joining that guild?”
“Not very.” She shrugged. “I do not look forward to the idea of killing strangers for money, or being killed in the attempt. But it is the only way I can make use of my skills without looking over my shoulder every day.”
“What if I were to offer you the opportunity to live here, and adventure with me and my party. We worked well together, I think. You’d be eligible to receive an equal share of the loot, of course. And if you swear an oath not to liberate items from me or mine, you can live here in the palace when we’re not running around exploring.”
Nessa stared at him for a long moment, her cat eyes impossible to read. “That would be… acceptable. Though, I must complete this contract for the guild, and you must pay them for my services, as agreed.”
“Of course.” Max looked at Redmane. “Are we going to piss off the assassins’ guild by stealing her?”
Redmane shook his head. “She is not officially a member. As long as w
e pay them for this job, and maybe a little extra, there should be no repercussions. No guild is anxious to anger a king, Max. And certainly not over a low level probationary recruit. No offense, lass.”
“None taken.” Nessa actually smiled at the old dwarf.
“Then it’s agreed!” Max got up and joined them as Redmane led them down to the treasury vault. “I found all of these in the lair of a very, very old and crafty lich.” Max warned Nessa. “We looted some keys, but we suspect there might be magical traps as well. If you don’t feel up to this job, there’s no shame in declining it. I’m in no rush to get to whatever’s inside, we can wait for a higher level person…”
Nessa glared at Max, and though he couldn’t be sure, he thought maybe the claws at the ends of her fingers lengthened slightly. “I am perfectly capable of disarming a few traps!” She snapped at him. Hearing her own tone, she sighed. “I apologize, your majesty. I am… sensitive at being denied the improved skills that should have been my quest reward.” She took a few deep breaths as they approached the vault door. “If I see something I’m not absolutely sure of, I will back away and leave it for another.”
“Fair enough!” Max agreed as they arrived. Before Redmane opened the vault, he made Nessa take an oath not to steal anything from, or reveal to anyone what she saw inside, the vault. When it was done, the dwarf opened it up, and Nessa went to work. Redmane handed her the key ring, and they both stood at the entrance to observe as she did her thing. Redmane whispered to Max to be ready to help him close the massive door quickly if Nessa set off a trap that released poison gas or some similar danger.
It took her nearly four hours to inspect locks, locate keys, check for traps, and open all the chests and crates. As it turned out, none of the chests, and only two of the crates, held traps. Both of which Nessa handily disarmed. One featured poisoned darts, another a capsule of gaseous acid.
Max noticed that she looked away immediately after opening each one, quickly moving on to the next. When she was done, and got up to leave the vault, he asked her, “Don’t you want to see what’s inside?”
“I’ve sworn an oath not to reveal what I see in there. If I do not see, I do not risk breaking that oath, either accidentally or under duress.” She smiled up at him. “Also, I will be less tempted to break in here later to steal it all.”
“Ha! Fair enough.” Max motioned for Redmane to follow her out, then stepped out himself and closed the door. “We can check it out later. For now, let’s get you paid and back to the guild to turn in your quest, or work order, or whatever. As soon as you’re back here, we’ll get you set up in some quarters. The others should be back anytime now, and I’ll fill you in on what’s been happening when I tell them.”
“Thank you, Majesty.” Nessa bowed her head. They walked her back to the portal, and Redmane activated it for her.
As he turned around, Redmane cleared his throat. “So, I take it you’ve met miss Nessa before?”
Max froze midstep, turning back to the dwarf. “Did we not tell you she was with us when we claimed the temple?”
“You did not, Max.” the dwarf’s tone was half amused, half scolding.
“Oh, well let me tell you the story while we go through the stacks on my desk.”
*****
Lagrass awoke in his makeshift bed in the same tavern basement where he’d first awakened in this new world. After killing the rats that attacked him, barely surviving the fight, he’d stumbled upstairs in his canvas diaper, torn and bleeding, and run into the innkeeper. After some initial yelling, and a little help from the increased Charisma that Loki had gifted him, he’d struck a bargain with the woman. He could sleep in the cellar, and would receive one meal per day, if he continued to eliminate the rats down there. She even gave him a repeatable quest; for every ten rat tails he turned in, he’d get some experience and a bonus meal. That quest had helped him reach level two, and put enough food in his belly that he didn’t starve. After the second quest turn-in, she handed him an old kitchen knife to help with his extermination mission.
He had stolen some clothes and linens from laundry lines in various places, enabling him to walk the city without turning too many heads. He’d pushed three crates together in a back corner of the cellar, behind a stack of barrels, and laid out the stolen blankets as a sort of bedroll. Except for the one he rolled up to use as a pillow.
When he tired of killing rats, Lagrass began to prowl the streets and alleys at night. He kept his dull kitchen knife tucked up in his sleeve, and a smile on his face for everyone he met. His first big opportunity came around midnight of his sixth day, when he turned into an alley and found a bruiser of a man who was throttling a beggar boy of about fourteen years of age. Two of the boy’s younger friends were trying futilely to loosen the man’s grip, both of them shouting.
“I’ll teach ya to hold out on me, you little thief!” The man growled, lifting the boy by his neck and shaking him. “Now, turn over what you’ve hidden, and I’ll let you live.”
Lagrass wasted no time, dropping the knife from his sleeve into his palm and gripping the hilt tightly as he walked up behind the man. With no warning, he plunged the blade into his lower back, aiming for a kidney. The man screamed in pain and dropped the boy, but Lagrass barely noticed. He yanked loose the knife and plunged it in again and again, as rapidly as he could.
Though he’d worked a desk when he died on Earth, he’d started as a soldier just like the rest of the mercenaries in his unit. He knew how to kill quietly and efficiently, and he knew how to make it as painful as possible.
Critical Hit! Striking a distracted opponent in the back! +50% damage!
Critical Hit! Striking a distracted opponent in a vital organ! +50% damage!
Lagrass ignored the notifications, and the horrified stares of the three boys, as he continued to plunge the blade into the already dead man’s body. In his mind, he saw the faces of Blake and Storm, mocking him and laughing at his current circumstances.
Finally, a shout from a guard patrol broke him out of his trance, and he looked down to see the bloody mess he created. He quickly touched the mutilated corpse with his free hand to loot it, then dashed away. The terrified boys stood frozen until the guards arrived, and Lagrass heard them say to the guards. “Dolby there was killing Aaron, choking him and smashin his head against the wall. That fella saved him, stabbed Dolby in the back. But then he… just kept stabbing.” The last thing Lagrass heard before he got out of earshot was the sound of someone puking.
That had been why he’d been running from the guards. They’d hunted him for an hour before he managed to evade them and get over the city’s outer wall. He’d stumbled the short distance to the river and dunked himself in the cold water, washing away the blood and bits of Dolby that covered him. Then he’d crawled under a thick shrub on the riverbank and shivered himself to sleep.
In the morning, when the sun had dried and warmed him a bit, he’d walked downriver a ways, then hitched a ride on a farmer’s wagon. He’d given the farmer one of the silver coins he’d looted from Dolby to let him ride along into the city. Lagrass was sweating by the time they reached the gate, worried that the guards might already have his description. But the gatekeepers barely glanced at him, just greeted the farmer by name and waved him through.
As soon as he was back inside the city, he leapt off the wagon and made his way via back alleys and side streets to his cellar shelter. This was his second day hiding in the cellar, eighth day on-world. He’d only left the cellar to go up to the kitchen and scarf down his daily meal, and ask the innkeeper if anyone had been by asking for him. No stranger to customers of questionable morals, she quickly realized he was wanted by the guards. After extorting another of Dolby’s silver coins from him, she promised to keep his whereabouts to herself, and to send his meals down to him if he preferred not to show his face. She didn’t even mention the announcement of a reward on his head.
Tired of being closed in, Lagrass decided to venture out into the
night. He’d attained level three after murdering Dolby, and increased his knife skill by two points. After quickly taking care of three more rats that dared intrude upon his domain, he made his way upstairs and out the back door of the kitchen. He wasn’t three steps down the alley when the innkeeper stuck her head out and shouted, “Here! Guards! He’s here!”
Lagrass cursed to himself, already hearing running footsteps ahead of him at the end of the alley. He quickly turned and dashed back toward the kitchen door, which the innkeeper attempted to slam in his face. He was faster, lashing out with his blade, stabbing the woman just under her sternum, angling the blade up into her heart. He shoved her lifeless body aside, looting it even as she fell, then slammed and bolted the door behind him. Rushing through the kitchen, bloody blade still in hand, he burst into the common room and out the front door, the shouts of staff, customers, and guards following him as he ran. His heart pounded, sweat dripping from his nose as he dashed down one alley after another. He saw a sewer grate and tried to pull it free so he could hide in the tunnels, but he didn’t have the strength to move it. He had to abandon the effort when he heard the shouts of guards nearby, coordinating their search pattern. The guards were all much higher level than he was, stronger and faster, with the stamina to run all day. Lagrass was a noob, weak and slow, and already tiring fast.
He stumbled over a passed out drunk in the next alley, cursing as he skinned his hands on the cobblestones, a minus five in red drifting across his vision. Angry, he equipped his knife and stabbed the unconscious man through the heart, receiving another critical hit notification, an instant kill, and reaching level four. He quickly looted the drunk, then pulled off his ratty jacket to cover the blood stains on his shirt from stabbing the innkeeper. After a quick look at the man’s boots, he took those too. They were too big for him, but he could stuff some cloth in the toes. Where he was going, it was better than being barefoot.
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