by Aleron Kong
“What was in that ale, my lord?” Basil’s voice quavered and randomly rose and fell in pitch. “Was it demons? Did that damn Earth mage put demons in the ale?”
Richter looked at the man in amused shock. He’d never seen the outwardly uptight man talk like that before. Basil saw his lord looking at him in surprise and misinterpreted the gaze for one of rebuke. “I apologize, Lord Richter. I just have a bit of a headache.”
Richter didn’t want the man to clam back up into a conservative shell, so he confided that, “Don’t worry about it. I’m still looking for the cat.”
“What cat?” Basil said, confused.
“The one that must have shit in my mouth while I was sleeping last night,” he replied with a completely straight face.
Basil just looked at him with surprise of his own for a moment, then started chuckling. Even Randolphus laughed aloud at that one, and all three men enjoyed the comradery you can only find by having drunk deeply from the cup of Bacchus and having lived to tell the tale. Whenever the laughter started to die, one of them would add another ribald comment and the levity would be revived.
A few minutes later, Richter was wiping tears from his eyes. One of the village men had brought over large platters of food and set them down on the table. Randolphus explained that he thought a bit of food might make the negotiations go smoother. For the thousandth time, Richter marveled at his luck in finding his chamberlain. Then he wondered if it really was his Luck characteristic having come into play. If so, he would need to add more to the esoteric stat ASAP.
Once Basil had eaten some food and, at Richter’s strong urging, had a bit of the hair of the dog that had bit him, the former Yves merchant looked more alert. Richter decided to broach the topic at hand.
“Basil.” The man looked up from his plate at hearing the serious undertone in his lord’s voice. He swallowed the last bite he had taken, put his knife down, and gave Richter his full attention. “We have a fight coming our way. If the past weeks have taught me anything, it’s that these mists are not an absolute defense. We need to get stronger and we need more allies.”
Basil nodded. “I understand, my lord, and I am ready and willing to do whatever I can to serve.”
“Good man,” Richter said, nodding. “Tomorrow I want you to leave at first light. You are to go into the Serrated Mountains and treat with the dwarf tribes. Your primary goal should be to get fighters that are willing to come down to the forest and fight the bugbears and their allies. A secondary, but almost as important goal, is to foster relations between the Mist Village and the groups that you find. I want to be clear that I’m not expecting miracles. This is just a first step. After you leave this table, I want you to go see Krom. He is to give you any weapons and armor that you need. After that, I want you to spend the day getting as much information about the dwarves from him and anyone else in the village that can be helpful. Tell them that helping you is to take precedence over anything else they may be doing. Knowing Krom, you will probably get some pushback. Tell him that if I have to come make the point myself, then Alma will be making the point with lightning.” The dragonling looked up from where she was filching morsels from Basil’s plate. She flared her wings happily and then unashamedly grabbed a piece of meat in her forepaws and started tearing off hunks with her sharp teeth.
Richter smiled at her lovingly. Then he reached into his Bag and pulled out three purses. “These two have a hundred gold coins each. From what Krom told me, money talks and bullshit walks with the dwarves of the mountains.” Basil smiled at hearing that unknown idiom, but the meaning was clear enough that Richter didn’t need to explain this time. He continued speaking. “I’m sure that you are not going to convince anyone of the rightness of our cause just by words. I’m equally sure that you’re going to have to bribe some people to get through certain territories and to get certain introductions. Use the money as you will. Once you get in to see the chiefs or kings or whatever the hell the main man calls himself, that’s when you use this pouch.” He tapped the larger brown hide bag. “I have twenty Potions of Clarity in here. These are to be given as gifts of respect and as a taste of what the village can offer to friends and good trading partners. Now with all that being said, I have already seen among the dwarves in the village that there are certain factions, like the Bone Crusher clan, that I don’t think we would… mesh well with. I won’t fully write a group off without meeting them personally, but I want you to use your own intuition and Krom’s advice to decide if there are any groups you should avoid. Keep in mind as you meet these tribes and clans that every potential ally is also a potential enemy. Do not invite a snake into our garden. You’ll be going with two dwarves that Krom recommends as guides and liaisons. I’ll also be sending ten guards with you.”
Basil listened to the entire long speech without interrupting. When Richter was done, he asked a few targeted questions. After that, he just said, “I won’t let you down, sir.” Richter half stood and reached across the table. Basil did the same, and the two men clasped wrists. When they let go, the trader was going to leave, but Richter bid him stay a bit longer. He could see four men approaching, led by Futen. He could only assume that they were Hafiz’s sons. Though Basil would be an integral part in preparing for the future war with the bugbears, Richter was fairly certain that a different type of conflict was about to happen right now. It would be bloodless and it would be economic, but he was glad Basil’s business experience could help in this arena as well.
Richter stood, and his chamberlain and diplomat followed suit. A mental command was enough for Alma to abandon the rest of her breakfast and fly to perch on his broad shoulders. They stood waiting as the four men approached. All were clad in the same white silk and red sash that he had seen their father wear. They all also wore white turbans, but that was where the physical similarities ended. He remembered Hafiz as a short, portly fellow that looked just like the nice sultan in Aladdin. Basically a kindly, but shrewd, grandfather.
These guys looked more like Sons of Anarchy. Each was at least six feet tall, and they had strong angular faces covered in well-trimmed beards. Their tunics were sleeveless and large muscles stood out in easily followed definition on their arms. Their skin was the color of toasted almonds, and their weathered faces spoke of a life of frequent travel. They wore empty sheaths at their waists that were curved as if built for scimitars. Each had an intense expression and they looked around as if noting every little detail of what they saw. There was a clear hierarchy in how they walked. One pulled up the rear, holding a small metal chest. He followed the two in the middle who walked with a sure dignity, but the leading man, who seemed a bit older than the rest, exuded a palpable sense of authority. The two men in the middle were carrying a large wooden chest banded with high steel and with a thick padlock clearly seen on the front.
Four of Richter’s guards followed closely behind. Caulder was among them. Richter was pleased to see that they were taking the security of the village so seriously. There might have been a time when he would have thought that an armed escort for trading partners was overkill. He wouldn’t be so cavalier with the safety of his village again. The fact that Terrod and Caulder seemed to be on the same page was one less thing he had to worry about.
The white-clad men stopped a good ten feet away from Richter. The leader of the group spoke. “I bring you greetings, oh great leader of the Mist Village.” The man’s voice was a rich bass, booming across the small space that separated him. “My father wishes you good health and prosperity. He wishes that he could be here to meet his good friend in person, but hopes that you will accept myself, his eldest son, and my brothers as a poor substitute.” The man swept his right arm far out to the side and crossed his left arm across his waist as he went into a deep bow. His brothers placed the chest on the ground and then swept into identical bows.
They held that pose, and Randolphus cleared his throat slightly but poignantly. Richter looked at him and the chamberlain indicated the four me
n with a slight crook of his neck. Taking the cue, Richter took a step forward and said, “I accept this greeting in the grand spirit with which it was given. When you see your father, tell him that I look forward to the day that we can sit together again. Until that time comes, however, I am delighted to meet the sons of the man I hope to one day embrace as a brother.”
All four men smoothly rose from their bows. The lead man looked Richter in the eye and nodded slightly. Richter suddenly felt like he had passed some sort of test. He smiled to himself. If the man wanted to match flowery language, he shouldn’t go toe-to-toe with someone who had grown up listening to Sting and Sade!
Tired of not knowing what to call him, Richter used Analyze.
Name: Abbas. Human: Lvl 17. Health 380. Mana 320. Stamina 260. Disposition: Neutral. Humans are one of the shortest lived, but most prolific breeders in the Land. Humans have a broader affinity for skills than other races. No special bonuses to race. Humans get four points to distribute per level. Profession: Trader.
Suddenly Richter was both happy and bothered. Happy that he had learned more about the man he was about to be negotiating with and also that he had had Basil stay with him. He was definitely bothered that he was about to negotiate with a Professed Trader though. That made him realize that he had never actually used Analyze on Hafiz. Richter had thought that he had done well in those negotiations, but if the man was an old Trader, he had probably been fleeced.
“My name is Abbas, Lord Richter. May we approach?”
Richter schooled his face so that his discomfort didn’t show. At least he hoped he did. For all he knew, Traders had a Talent that let them read micro expressions. Not wanting to draw the moment out, he smiled expansively and swept an arm towards the food-laden table. “Of course. We have set out some food so that you can break your fast. Please eat and drink. We can talk about the future of our relationship after that.”
The four men moved over to sit at the table. Before they started to eat, however, all four moved their hands in a circle over their food and said a short phrase in a language Richter hadn’t heard before. His Gift of Tongues ability translated it to “For the bounty our success has brought, we thank you, dear Lady.”
Speaking in the common tongue, Richter couldn’t resist asking, “Was that a prayer? I was under the impression that all gods had been banished from The Land.”
Abbas nodded in understanding. “You are, of course, correct, Lord Richter. That does not mean the teachings of our Lady Nadjah are any less valuable. The wisdom of the Lady of Good Fortune has guided the actions of our family since long before The Great Binding. We offer a prayer to her in thanks and remembrance.”
Richter gazed back at the man, pondering what he had just heard. Blind faith was a challenge in and of itself, but he had to reason that it must be even harder to know that your god is real and that she had been forcibly taken from you. For a family to remain devout for centuries and millennia after that… what did that say about them? Richter wasn’t sure, but he was fairly certain it meant he should take them seriously. As he opened his mouth to continue the conversation, another thought occurred to him. Were there any other pockets of faithful followers out there? What would they be like if, instead of luck, their god had been one of death or pain?
Richter blinked such cheery thoughts away. “Well I would love to hear more about your Lady Nadjah at some point, but not right now. I insist that you eat. Can I offer you refreshment? Some ale or water perhaps?”
They all made small talk for about twenty minutes as Abbas and his brothers ate their fill. He introduced his brothers as “Falih, Mahir and Kadar.” Luckily, none of them were Professed Traders, though Falih and Mahir were both above level ten so he assumed their trading skill just hadn’t reached journeyman rank yet. Once they had committed enough time to the niceties, they got down to business.
“In addition to greetings, my father has sent a gift in appreciation of our profitable relationship.” At Abbas’s gesture, Kadar, the youngest brother, placed the small chest on the table, angling the front towards Richter. He opened the lid and revealed that the inside was lined with crushed purple velvet. Sitting on a cushion of the same color was a bracelet. Two clear red gems sat on a braided band of gold. Futen glowed white, identifying the object without asking.
You have been presented: Bracelet of Home’s Heart. Durability 43/43. Item class: Scarce. Quality: Superb. Weight: 0.2 kg. Traits: The gems on this bracelet are actually two halves of a whole. Expertly cut, the jewel is a rare drop from a silver wyvern. The last drop of its blood crystalized to embody the speed and grace of this aerial predator. That magic has been preserved. Now the wearer of this bracelet may leave one of the gems in any location they choose. If the magic of the bracelet is then activated, the wearer will gain the ability of flight and be pulled at the maximum flying speed of a silver wyvern to the location where the other jewel was left. This is a one-use item which will be destroyed afterwards.
Richter’s eyes widened as he read the item’s description. This was the first example of fast travel he had actually seen. The calculations for portals were rattling around somewhere in the back of his head, but the cost of making one, let alone two of the expensive things just wasn’t feasible yet. Hafiz truly had given him an amazing gift. This meant that he could escape a horrible situation or come rushing back to defend his village if need be. He would have to think very carefully about where to place the gem he would be coming back to.
Richter stood and bowed slightly. “This truly is an amazing gift. I do not know what to say. I, and my people, thank you.”
The four brothers stood and bowed deeply in return. They sat back down, but Richter remained standing. “In my travels and adventures, I have come across many wonders. One of the most beautiful, however, was this.” He reached into his Bag of Holding and pulled out a gem-encrusted bracelet. Small diamonds formed the spine of the red-gold bracelet and the two ends shined green. One end was a dragon’s head, with emeralds set as eyes. The other was a tail made of creamy jade. The quality of craftsmanship was such that the piece looked like it could come to life at any moment. When Richter had examined the item, it had registered as “masterwork.”
Richter held it hidden in his hands, until he spread them apart like a book opening, leaving the jewelry balancing on his palms. The reaction he received was more than he expected. Falih and Mahir immediately began speaking to each other quietly in their native tongue. Richter could understand them, though they didn’t know that, and heard them exclaiming over the value of the piece. Kadar actually breathed the word “Tefonim,” which earned him a cuff from one of his older brothers. Richter noticed all of this peripherally, as most of his attention was on Abbas.
The lead brother showed no reaction. At least not one that Richter could detect. The man raised his eyes from the gold dragon and looked Richter in the eye. “Do you know what this is, my lord?”
“It is a gift for your father. It is also a piece of jewelry from the Tefonim people.”
Abbas licked his lips and considered his next words carefully. “It is quite rare to find pieces from the master builders. Even more rare to find a piece as exquisite and well preserved as what you have here, my lord. I mean no disrespect, but may I examine it?”
Richter didn’t really get what the big deal was, but assumed that the jewelry must be more valuable and therefore more expensive than he had thought. “It is yours. You can do as you wish.” With that, he handed over the bracelet.
Abbas didn’t bring it close up to his eyes and inspect it like Richter had assumed. Instead he just held it in his hand and closed his eyes. A slight hum could suddenly be heard at the edge of Richter’s hearing, like a generator coming on down the street. When Abbas opened his eyes again, a broad smile crested his face. His large white teeth were stark contrasted to his sun darkened skin. “My lord, this truly is a wonderful gift. I apologize for any doubt or hesitation on my part. Please do not believe that I thought you would cheat us
or my father, but there are many, many forgeries of the work of the Tefonim. So much so that the chances of a piece being authentic are less than a thousand to one. I am honored to receive this princely gift. My father spoke of your fairness and strength, but left to me the choice of how closely we would ally ourselves in business. Your gift shows your caliber though, my lord, and I am happy to say that the Company of the White Pearl considers you a Friend in Commerce.”
A series of prompts immediately filled Richter’s vision.
Know This! The saying is that there are more customs in the land than drops of water in the ocean. It is impossible to know them all. Your innate respect and generosity, however, have steered you well. The exchange of gifts is a time honored tradition amongst the traders of the River Peninsula and will set the tone for all future dealings. You have given a gift well beyond what was expected and have been named a Friend in Commerce to the Company of the White Pearl.
Your relationship with Abbas, Falih, Mahir, and Kadar has increased from Neutral to Friendly.
The relationship of the Mist Village and the Company of the White Pearl has increased from Neutral to Friendly.
Know This! As a Friend in Commerce, future trade dealings with the Company of the White Pearl will be 10% more lucrative. New trade opportunities may now become available.
Richter didn’t let the momentum of the moment pass. “It pleases me that my gift is so well received. I hope that it is the start of many future successful dealings.” He was about to refer them over to Randolphus when he experienced the strangest of sensations. His nose tingled, and the most tantalizing scent reached his nostrils. It came and went quick as a flash, but despite not seeing a source, Richter was sure he had smelled something wonderful. It was like an olfactory potpourri that reminded him of the scent of a woman’s hair, spiced apple pie, and crisp mountain air all at once.
