If I believe in something, I sell it and I sell it hard

Pre-Fall quote

Norman Grievar was looking a bit stymied. Johanna thought the man had almost seemed angry for some reason when they unveiled the magical sword and started to explain what made it special.

She’d showed him how that worked, by actually using a bar of Alium salvage. She simply took the sword, almost gingerly, pushed lightly with just the tip of her fingers into the metal, then dragged the sword by the handle, slicing the entire bar effortlessly in two. Tom had figured it out by accident, almost cutting himself in the process. She wasn’t sure that Laura could reattach limbs, and she wasn’t looking forward to testing that.

“And it stays that sharp.”

“And clean as well. A simple wipe and nothing cling to it. Dirt, water, anything. It still looks as if it had been made yesterday,” she said.

“Tested on stone and even Ancient pavements. Cuts everything as easily, a foot deep,” Tom added.

The salvage merchant kept scratching his head, wincing at times. Once they were gathered back in his office, seated across the usual tea, he stayed silent for a long while.

“How rare are those things? They all come from ruins?” Johanna finally asked, to restart the discussion.

“I have no real idea,” Grievar finally admitted.

“Ah.”

“Of course, you hear about powerful artifacts. Ancient things. Nobody knows where they really come from. You hear all stories about the power of the Ancients, so maybe that’s the strongest of their fabrications…”

Johanna stopped herself before saying that it was “obvious” it was due to mana from after the Fall. It was obvious – for her. She could see the mana surrounding the sword, but no one else would.

Norman Grievar contemplated again the sword laid upon his office table, taking time to look at it. Even without the cutting effect it had, it looked impressive.

“I’ll be honest. It pains me, but best I can do is ten thousand if you want to sell.”

“Only?” Johanna.

“Because I have no idea how much this can be sold for. At all, I mean. Artifacts from the Ancients like that, it’s not something that’s found often. I heard stories from my dad about how one of my ancestors had gotten something from a salvager. Not the big ruins, apparently some Ancient home instead, in the middle of the woods in the north, in the mana wilds. But that was a century ago if it was even true. Unless you stumble upon it, how’d you know it’s there.”

Johanna was definitively not going to reply to this.

“So, it could be worth lots,” Tom asked.

“If you find a buyer. If. That’s my problem there. Ninety-nine percent of the salvage, I know already who’s going to be interested in it. Which trader may have customers interested east or south for special pieces. But this?”

Norman shrugged, adding “that shouldn’t surprise you, I mean. That’s a one-in-a-lifetime find. How long have you sat on this?”

“We found it on our last expedition. We went further this time, and it was close to the center,” Johanna replied.

“Really? But that doesn’t change anything. There’s no price for this.”

Johanna was starting to frown but steeled herself. She recognized this as part of the negotiation dance… and there had never been any bigger negotiation with Grievar than this one.

“How do we do this, then?” she asked.

“I can inquire. It will take time. A lot of time, to properly assess this and find interested buyers. And I’d need to get this tested further.”

“So, you’re not buying?”

“Look. What I can offer is insurance. We get to the Bank, and I put in writing, with proper clauses. If the sword gets lost… or misplaced… or I fail to return it, you get thirty-five thousand dollars.”

“You said you could offer only ten,” Peter noted.

Grievar turned his head to the small man.

“I don’t intend to pay this. That’s the name – insurance. It’s a safety valve. I’m betting it won’t break or no one’s going to steal it. In this, you’ll have to give a little trust.”

“And then what?” Johanna asked back.

“I’ll find a buyer. And… I get 20% of what it sells for. As an intermediary.”

“What? Just for looking around?” Peter said again, looking offended.

Maybe a bit too offended, Johanna thought.

“What do you think I do? I usually have higher levels of margin after I buy things off you.”

He promptly added, “but that’s because I pay and hold them until I find a buyer, who might negotiate the price down. Here… it’s for the work of finding the best buyer. And that may take time.”

Laura noted, “But with a percentage, you’d want to get the highest price.”

“Exactly. So… ten thousand right now, I take all the risks. Or insurance for thirty-five and I’ll work on commission for 20%.”

Johanna wondered if the man knew something. That was more than the cost of the loan repayment. It would even start building the capital for Peter and Laura’s future home.

“Fifty thousand as insurance,” she said. “It’s unique.”

“Okay, but I get 25% then. I am taking more risks.”

She immediately thought she’d probably asked for too little. Ten thousand was horribly lowballing such a thing, sure, but Grievar had accepted fifty far too fast. She wasn’t sure it was really worth almost a house by itself, but who knew. Maybe Grievar knew.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Or maybe he really won’t “lose” it and he just wanted a higher commission.

“One year, and if you haven’t found a buyer, we cancel this, and renegotiate.”

“Good for me,” Grievar said.

Johanna reached and they shook hands.

“That’s a first for me,” he admitted finally. “Will probably never see the like of that.”

Maybe not, Johanna thought.

If she could see magic from a distance, then if there were other artifacts in the ruins… they would be easy to find. Maybe even envision an expedition to the greater ruins near the coast. They were supposed to hold mana, lots of it. It would make sense if they contained more of those artifacts. And they had abilities to defend themselves against trouble. Although Norman Grievar might start to wonder how they found all those.

“Now, on to the more normal stuff…” the merchant added.

Moore could have facepalmed. If he had a hand and a face, that is. They’d stumbled by pure chance on what seemed to be the equivalent of a random epic drop, and they were going to the Auction House to sell for gold.

That being said, in a game, you didn’t have a life outside of the adventuring part. Player housing was always optional, you didn’t need to eat, and you “slept” by logging out. Johanna and the rest had just signed a mortgage for a house. He’d watched “over Johanna’s shoulder” as she signed the agreement with their merchant, and seeing the price of the “insurance” had made him imagine whistling.

To be honest, if I found a drop that sold for, like, two hundred thou in a real-money auction house, I’d probably sell it too.

He was still trying to get a feeling for the money. That new dollar had a very different purchasing power than the one he was used to. He definitively wouldn’t get food-to-go for under a dollar per person in his old life. The delivery service he would have used later that… night… would have charged him probably thirty dollars for the same kind of meal – and theirs was probably healthier.

“I pronounce you husband and wife,” Reverend Blacknall said.

Johanna squeezed a little bit Tom’s hand as she watched Laura bending and kissing – officially – Peter. They briefly exchanged a little smile before focusing again on the ceremony.

The church was not very full. Her family was almost all there, father, older brother, and even the fourth Milton coming from Virtu, albeit without her husband. Only Tom’s father and mother had made the trip, likewise for Laura. Peter’s family was conspicuously absent – no doubt his father had forbidden anyone from attending, still believing Peter was making a huge mistake in marrying a “changed saint”. Unsuspecting that Peter himself was as much empowered as the rest of them.

There were also a handful of locals. The Naders had come, as had the Ngozi, from “carmine”, who’d gifted Laura and Peter with an enormously large mattress over three weeks ago. And two other couples from the alley, who’d heard about it and came to witness their marriage.

And now, the ceremony was winding down, and it was time to walk the aisle again. Johanna’s mother had agreed to stand in for Peter’s since they had skipped, but this time, they walked together. Tom and her front, Peter and Laura just behind.

They reached the entrance where, unsurprisingly, the families threw some wheat over them, to promise fruitful marriages. Not that there was much risk – after all, they were all fourth or fifth children, and the union of such was bound to be fertile. They were still going to be careful on that point, at least until they had funds. Even Laura.

The party hall was fairly expansive, with large tables. One of the advantages of having gotten back earlier than usual is that they’d been able to adjust things and find the right restaurants to provide catering to the banquet. Although it wouldn’t have the crowd such an event would have had in Anasta, with all kinds of people, including a large number of youths looking to see who was good-looking from villages around, checking for prospective boyfriends and girlfriends from outside of the forbidden pool of their village.

Less dancing today, Johanna thought. But better company.

As traditional, she was seated next to Tom’s parents, and Tom next to hers. For Laura and Peter, it was the same kind of awkward arrangement as the ceremony, with Laura’s mother on Peter’s side, and her father on her side.

“I was expecting a longer wait,” the elder Welter said.

“Things happened,” she answered.

“I heard. Did you know Avon got it lightly?”

“About?”

“The Lepuses. Mirosc had a large pack. No dead, but three maimed. They still repelled it before they lost too much of their fields.”

“Oh. I didn’t know.”

“Just told Tom about, yesterday. I suppose you didn’t have time to talk about that. More… important things taking priority.”

She laughed. “That’s true.”

“Yup,” she heard from her left, adding to her mirth.

“So, you didn’t get any?”

“Marmara’s son spotted a pair, but they were at the edge of the woods, and didn’t come in. You… stopped them before they got to Avon, I think.”

“That we did,” she said, sobering a bit.

“Got some more from Tom, otherwise it would be hard to figure out exactly what happened.”

“So, you heard about… us.”

“That you got changed by the ruins.”

She winced inwardly but kept the smile on. You didn’t show bad thoughts at your own wedding, after all. Tom’s father seemed to feel the change anyway, and immediately added,

“Not that you’re guilty of anything. When it comes to mana, it can’t be helped. You deal with it.”

“That’s sure,” she acknowledged.

Then she heard Tom say “We wait,” and turned back.

Her mother smiled back at her from just beyond Tom… Milton.

“I was asking if you’d dropped the calendar yet.”

“Oh. No, we’re still careful. We… may get lots of money soon, but how soon, I have no idea. Until then, we stuff the money bag, in case things happen.”

Both Bram Milton and Caley Welter popped their heads.

“We got a major find in the ruins,” she explained. “Too early to say how much it will end up being worth. Valetta’s furbisher is dealing it for us.”

“Good for you,” her father said.

She relaxed a bit, turning back to the Welter elder, who started asking about the ruins, then looked at the table where Peter and Laura were chatting with the Vogels animatedly.

“So, you got her to pick your name by what?”

Peter winced a bit at Eve Vogel. Laura’s mother was drilling him on the last year’s events, since he last saw her at another marriage feast.

“That’s my girl, though,” she added. “She gets that from her mother.”

Peter blinked.

“Wait, you’ve been with her for almost two years now, and you don’t know?”

She lowered her voice.

“Did she introduce you to the ropes yet?”

Peter’s eyes grew to double their normal size, before he heard from behind him, “Don’t let her pull your leg.”

He turned back to his wife.

“That’s her thing, not mine. I get a small husband, I don’t need ropes if I want that.”

Peter spotted Laura’s father rolling his eyes behind her, before the older man shook his head.

“Time, Jo”, Tom said, grasping Johanna’s hand and rising.

“Yea,” she simply replied, rising as well.

“Don’t put the dance floor on fire,” he whispered.

She laughed and shook her head. Instead, she turned.

“Laura. Peter. Get up.”

The two musicians from their alley started strumming, preparing the music.

Johanna put her arms around Tom, prepped, and started to dance.

“If you step on my foot, I freeze yours on the floor,” she whispered.

“Do that and we may need Laura’s services.”

Then the first notes began, and they opened up the dances.

Bodiless as he was, Moore had enjoyed the long ceremony, watching his four protegees get married, breaking up with their former lives. He’d met finally the Vogels and Welters, who looked, well, pretty much ordinary farmers like the others. And it had looked like they’d made friends in their neighborhood as if the welcoming gifts hadn’t been indication enough.

That was another difference with his former life. In a small town like this Valetta, you made connections easily. He barely knew his own neighbors, back in his housing complex. He probably met the manager more than any of them.

Regrets of an ancient life, now vanished.

The fun bit was the descriptor change. The entire ceremony had come and gone, but Tom and Laura’s descriptor had changed only after registration at the town hall. Just as they lifted the pen, the descriptor had popped spontaneously, bearing new names. Tom Milton and Laura Donnall.

Should have stuck to her name, Peter. Her family came, and yours snubbed it.

He suddenly wondered if he would pick the kids’ descriptors. When they had some…

Will I be able to…?

“Time to earn money again,” Johanna said as she locked down the door.

Tom waved at the Naders, who were coming out in the early morning.

“Already? I’d thought you’d spend more honeymoon time,” Sarah said.

Johanna laughed.

“We still haven’t reimbursed our loan. Besides, in our trade, we need as much money we can get in any case, and that doesn’t grow on trees.”

Franz laughed.

“Well. Maybe it’s just lying on the ground.”

“It’s a bit more involved than that,” she said.

“Sure is,” Tom added.