by Lars M.
"I... guess? The rich tend to try to influence larger issues. They also rarely act as directly as with the noble families earlier. They prefer to insinuate, nudge, and approach the whole thing sideways. Poor folks, instead, are more fun. There's more swearing, the humor's often below the belt, and... well, the Blades don't pull their punches."
"Exactly. There's really nothing to keep the less fortunate from hiring a Blade to complain about the prices on food - but they're more likely to pay somebody to deliver a scathing insult to Butcher Harrid, telling all the world what a bastard he is for what he said to our Lisa. Quite often, the same types of entertainment are available to rich and poor alike, with only the quality differing. Even so, you will find the poor gravitating toward cruder, more physical, and more short-sighted entertainment."
"To sum up: There are all types of entertainment to be found out there - but a poor half-orc warrior is more likely to indulge himself in cheap narcotics, bet on prize fights, and visit brothels, while a rich catfolk summoner would typically spend a lot of money on his looks and home to show fellow catfolk that he's above them. Well, that, and visit brothels. But better-quality ones." He stared off into the semi-darkness of the tavern. "Kinda lost my train of thought, there. Anyway, if you're looking to engage your audience, you had better know your audience. If you're looking for types of entertainment, they're pretty much only limited by your interests and the depth of your money pouch."
Two hours later, I was stumbling up the stairs. The only thing on my mind was my bed and the descent into sleep. Behind me, a voice called out. "Hey."
I turned to see Gillem standing at the base of the stairs, an inscrutable look on his face. I was going to say something, but the only thing that emerged from my mouth was a huge, jaw-splitting yawn.
Gillem's mischievous grin took ten, fifteen years off of his age. "Don't worry, I won't keep you long. Only two things. First – you and me, Archie. We're good, right? No hard feelings?"
"You're a bastard." My voice was flat as I said it – and I kept the mask for all of five seconds before I matched his grin, "but I've known that for ages. No grudges, brother."
"Hah – you almost had me. Alright, final question. You know the caravan's inbound any day, right?"
"Yeah. Doing the best I can to get ready, finish off any outstanding stuff. I reckon I'll be gone for a while, like last time, trying to charm the harpies."
"Yeah, about that.The Council's in on your plan – but the Mayor wants to talk to you first before she gives her approval. Convince her, then, if we can get the trainers onboard, we can start to introduce the kobolds to Grant's Crossing. Do it properly."
A blinking notification promised a quest update confirming the same. "Amazing." Another yawn escaped me. "Wonderful. I'll get right to it. Tomorrow."
"Great. Sweet dreams. I'll drop off a piece of parchment tomorrow that everybody needs to sign if they're with us."
Nodding, I turned towards my door. As I was turning the key to my room, he said. "Oh, Archie?"
"Yeah?"
"Gillem Short? Really?"
With a snort of laughter, I entered my room and checked the notifications. Apart from the expected quest update, apparently, I’d hit Apprentice in Singing. Good times all around.
Quest updated:
Course Correction
The Anathema of Nerit and the people of Grant's Crossing have started off on the wrong foot. Do what you can to limit friction between the two peoples.
The result of this quest will have an effect on the prosperity of Grant's Crossing.
Updated: The Council has approved of your plan to apprentice the Anathema of Nerit to the workforce of the village, awaiting final approval from the Mayor. The result will depend upon the degree to which the teachers accept your proposal.
Reward: Unknown.
Chapter 11 – Clearing The Air
The Mayor's face looked every bit as cranky as I recalled. Alright, maybe ‘cranky’ wasn't the right word. Suspicious, more like. At least she didn't summon anything to kick me out, like last time. I'd taken my time to prepare and knew that I looked my absolute best. This is why I also knew for a certainty that the reason for her current scrunched-up expression was, in fact, yours truly. The grimace looked out of place on her short, but regal, stature.
"Mr. Arcangelo. How may I assist you?"
"…in getting the hell away from my front door" went unsaid, but I heard it nonetheless. "I have come to ask for your assistance, ma'am. I am chronicling the founding of Grant's Crossing, and I need only your testimony in order to be able to compile exactly what happened from the point of view of all four founders. It could help a lot of villagers who weren't here back then in understanding the struggles you went through to create their home." Inside my head, I added, ”also, I need to show my teacher that I’m not a lazy wastrel, but you don’t need to know that.”
Suspicion faded before consternation - but then she frowned, "And what would you plan on doing if I turned you down?"
Keeping my voice as level as possible, I responded, "Nurse my disappointment, I suspect. Wait and hope that you would change your mind and see that a written history would be of benefit to the village and future generations."
Silent, Autoria stared at me unblinking and then led me into the same office we'd been in the last time. She gestured to a seat on the other side of the large hardwood table and proceeded to stare at me. Like, really stare. Not that thing where you look at somebody and wait for them to speak first. No, this was a "maybe I should take this clock apart and see exactly how it works" stare. I had promised myself beforehand that I was going to do everything to keep my temper and play exactly by her rules, whatever that might mean. This was my chance to finally get back into the good graces of the Mayor, and by the powers of Grayskull, I wasn't going to waste it.
At last she spoke, in a matter-of-fact tone of voice. "I don't understand people. Rather, I don't care about understanding people. Please do not misunderstand this as an admission of a flaw on my part. That would be a mistake. Early in my life, I realized that I do not have it in me to care for what makes people tick. Not only that, but this search for a common ground is often a superfluous waste of time. With that in mind, I dedicate a large part of my time to understanding the motivations and desires of the people surrounding me. This saves me from the need of wasting my time on 'socializing' or 'chatting.'" The last words, she spat with obvious distaste. Wow, I bet she’s fun at parties, I thought. I kept my face composed, however. The regal gnome continued, "You, however, provide me with a conundrum. At first, I believed your only motivation was leaving the village - until you decided to stay. Since then, you have been equal parts mercenary and selfless, helpful and recalcitrant. In short, you confound me. Not much does."
I kept my mouth shut. Nothing to be gained from trying to explain myself.
Tapping her lip, she mused, "I do not judge people based on behavior. Most people do. I am well aware that the villagers would not fault me for holding a grudge after your atrocious conduct when we first met. There is no gain in it, however, and it seems illogical to me. All told, your actions afterwards have been helpful enough to us that I can ignore it. Still, I cannot remain ignorant of your motivations, so that would be my deal. Tell me your desires, and tell them true, and I will answer you in kind."
My mind raced to process her request, assessing just how the hell I was going to get out of this one. Should I just decline and leave? Tell her the truth. No. The analytical left side of my brain told me to wait. Words are important. We can handle this. "My desires?" I said, getting a taste of the right response. "My desires were simple when I arrived here. They still are. Back then, I wanted a life lived in luxury, filled with music and friends." I grimaced, recalling my introduction to the Mayor. "My inexcusable behavior was mostly due to me discovering that the life I wanted was out of reach - due to my own errors. It took me a while to realize that I'd be satisfied with two out of three: music and friends." I met her intense
scrutiny, my expression open and earnest.
"I believe there is more to your story?" She tilted her head.
"There is. I would rather keep it to myself, however. It's... pretty embarrassing." Chew on that, you nosy AI! If I was right, I'd be able to handle this flawlessly, without telling her anything... and without telling a single lie. If she insisted, I'd have to back down.
After a moment's hesitation, she nodded. "Your private matters are of no concern to me. The founding of the village, you say?"
"Yes. And the events leading up to the founding, as well. I intend to gather all your stories and unveil them before the village on Reveler’s Moon. I would also forward a written copy to the nearest Chronicler depository, for posterity."
"The others have already given their versions, you say? I suppose Gillem has told his mother's version then? That does lend weight to your argument. None of us live forever." She stared off into space for a moment and then gave me a terse smile. "Acceptable. This will take a while, however, and I need to gather my thoughts. I will go put on a pot of tea. Do you take sugar?"
I'd take dish water if it meant she was on board with the idea. "Yes, please."
She made herself busy, and I just relaxed. As she returned with a filled tray, I observed her without surreptitiously. There was nothing incidental about anything she did. The cups were placed just so, spoons straight enough to satisfy even the most meticulous etiquette teacher. The tea was steeping as she placed herself on her chair, hands folded in front of her.
"I believe it would do to start my tale with an introductory note - namely this: I do not brag or exaggerate. It is too easy to have your tales disproved and your reputation ruined. For a business woman, this would be disfavorable. Even so, I have found that people tend to find me arrogant when I state the truth. But believe this," she leaned forward, her icy blue eyes piercing mine, "I am the reason Grant's Crossing exists today. Not the sole reason, obviously. Mallard and Grant were the ones who hatched the idea initially. Cassandra provided some of the funds needed for the travel and materials we needed to get started. Still, if they had been the ones to try to bring the scheme to fruition, it would have died in its infancy.
"I used to work as a receptionist at the Red Skies trading office. You are surprised? I can assure you, though it was far from distinguished, handling a dozen different caravans, calculating taxes, payments, and fees, or orchestrating the needed paperwork to move rot-imbued living arrows from Erdheim to Gabor was its own challenge. Incidentally, they were also the gifts that were needed, especially for the initial push." The side of her mouth wrinkled up, almost imperceptibly. "Do you know what it takes to receive official clearance to create a new village inside a forest that has officially been claimed by no less than three kingdoms? Neither did I. If I had known back then, I may have backed off entirely. Still, once my contacts were drained and all fees and bribes paid, I managed it. That was the least of it, however. With dwindling pockets, I still had to calculate and buy what materials we would need to become self-sufficient, establish trading routes with Laegeria and Ludam, and convince the others what was needed and what would be a waste."
"It sounds like a lot of work," I said.
She laughed. The lilting sound was so unexpected and unrestrained, I couldn't help but smile along with her. "Oh, it was. It was glorious. I worked around the clock, twisting the arms of bureaucrats as far away as Geberik and cashing in every favor I had ever earned. My own group did not always work in my favor, either - their views on what was needed and what was not often lay far from the truth. In the end, they usually came around, however."
I winced. It was too easy to picture the tiny woman browbeating the others with facts and statistics. In the outside world, she would definitely be the type who used a spreadsheet to organize her spreadsheets.
Autoria continued, unaware. "There were so many things to learn, too. At times, my head felt close to bursting with the knowledge I gained. Which buildings are absolutely essential? In which order should they be built? Which materials are we likely to find locally and what do we need to bring? Which blueprints should be purchased, and where? Do we need to hire craftsmen later on?" She shook her head. "Of the six people that moved out here, I was the one who was most aware of how unprepared we were, but we were running out of funds."
The gnome's nostalgic smile slowly faded as she continued her story. "I must admit, with the sheer amount of work needed to prepare for the endeavor, I had expected the actual journey to be less taxing." Her lips twitched slightly. "Perhaps I was naïve. Perhaps it would have been different if the others were more akin to me in personality. As it stood, the journey was a struggle. My travel companions consumed more than we had planned for and worked less. Not only that, they also refused to acknowledge the necessity of adhering to the limitations we had all agreed to beforehand." Autoria had talked herself warm, and the annoyance was clear on her face. She paused. "I must admit that there were extenuating circumstances. We had underestimated the difficulties of the terrain and…" she cleared her throat, "There were... personal differences that made cooperation difficult at times. Cassandra and I did not get along very well. She was the type who enjoyed improvising."
"How about the journey? The others haven't talked much about it."
"There is not much to say. It was hard, sweaty, and onerous. We unwittingly infringed on the harpies' area and were forced to take a detour. My gifts were not well suited for it. Huh." She paused, putting one finger to her earlobe. "I have not told this story in detail often, but I realize now that the others may have resented me for being unable to help much during the travels. Interesting. Regardless, we made it here, and, wonder of wonders, the place was exactly like Grant had told us. A solid foundation with plentiful natural resources nearby." She took a tiny sip of her tea, a slight smile playing on her lip. "It goes without saying that this would mean little if we were unable to claim it for ourselves. But we did."
”But… were there no fights? No heroics?”
She waved me off. ”Oh, plenty of those – but they are irrelevant to the matter of hand.” Seeing the look on my face, she relented. ”Oh, you may enjoy this. Cassandra mounted a harpy.”
”She what?” I burst out.
The gnome chuckled. ”Yes. They caught us sleeping. Cassandra was scouting at the time and returned to find a harpy circling about, showering us with arrows – so she climbed a steep hill and jumped. It cost her a scar across the collar bone, but the sight of her crash-landing a furious harpy will stay with me for good.”
She stood up and walked to her window, beckoning for me to join her. Pointing at Mr. Callahan's river house, she explained, "We established ourselves right next to the river. The river house came later. At first, we built only barricades – something to ensure we would not be taken down by ranged attacks while we slept. We planned to create a real room to shelter in after harvesting the lumber and clearing the ground for it. The kobolds struck first, however. We had expected that, of course. They have always been a pestilence, harassing innocent caravans, stealing and raiding. They rarely attempted to kill, however. That changed with our arrival. We had noticed them spying on us from the forest, but on the third day, they traversed the river at night and tried to slaughter us in our sleep." A shudder ran through her as she stared at the river house, reliving old memories. "I had always prided myself for self-restraint. Others might not mind showing the world their inner heart, but I reserved it for special occasions. Or so I believed. I spent most of that time wrapped up in my baser emotions, and it is a testament to Mr Callahan and Mr. Bullhop's prowess that I survived. That is not to say that I spent the days cowering in fear - regardless of what you may have heard. Often, my summons were the final bulwark standing between us and the Pits. Still, I admit that I had expected my composure to hold up better. In my defense, I doubt anybody unused to combat would be able to picture those days of constant stress and battle in advance.
”I did manage to contribute, here and t
here, outside through my summons. For instance, the others were adamant that pit traps would help build up our defense. Pit traps. The only person to find herself at the bottom of one was Cassandra. I can assure you no kobold was clumsy enough to fall to their depths. My combination of alarm traps and caltrops, on the other hand, saved our lives at least twice. Compared to the others, however, my contributions were limited, at best." Her fragile smile surprised me. "There, you have me all maudlin. Suffice to say that I paid back my shortcomings over the later years, but the day the attacks finally stopped, I have no issue admitting that I bawled like a child."
Awkward. I didn't know how to react to that – so I didn't. "Ms. Dernfuddle, I appreciate you taking the time for me, and I assure you, I will keep true to the story." At least, generally. I sure wasn’t going to go into all that detail on administrative work. Bo-ring!
Her face composed once more, she nodded. "I expect nothing less."
As I made to leave, she held up a hand. "Mr. Arcangelo. When you knocked on my door, I expected you to pry into the status of your proposal, vis-á-vis the kobolds."
I froze. "Yes?"
"I was harboring doubts whether I had chosen wrong, my suspicion being that you intended to use the proposal for personal gains or leverage." I kept silent as she continued. "Our talk has... lessened my suspicions and I will inform the others that I agree with your proposal. Keep working to the advantage of Grant's Crossing, and we can return to an amicable working relationship."
"I... would like that."
Quest updated:
How the Crossing Came to Be (Chronicler quest)
You have learned a smattering of stories about the past of Grant’s Crossing. The origin and creation of Grant’s Crossing has never been officially chronicled. Compile the true story from the perspective of each of the four founders and reveal it to the village at Reveler’s Moon.
