The line between disorder and order lies in logistics.
Pre-Fall general.
“The city will pay a regular use fee,” the mayor finally said, as they all sat in a meeting room at the city hall.
Georgy had organized the meeting immediately. Johanna had been astounded to learn that the mayor had not known anything about talents or what the Talent House stood for until she came in. She had assumed he’d started selling parchment options before they’d even met Burgher Griffith, but apparently, no.
Once the mayor realized what they were offering, and saw parchments light under his touch, it was a foregone conclusion that the city would want that power available. He did not even feel the need to consult his council, and the haggling had started immediately. She’d brought in Ulrich for negotiations.
“A sliding scale, based on the number of Talents per city guard,” the thirster said.
“Not all Talents are equally useful, I am sure,” the mayor immediately countered.
“They all work together. Even a lesser talent provides more endurance for the others.”
“So, you would be foisting off lesser Talents?”
“They all cost the same to make, so why would we pick lesser?”
Johanna knew that not every parchment used the same number of pages from the Ancient books, but Ulrich was not wrong – all required the same time to form, whether they had just Level or one of the big Talents that consumed an entire thick book in a single conversion.
The haggling over details went on, as the mayor asked what would happen if a guard resigned.
“Your problem. The five-year fee remains due from the day the guards receive his or her last Talent, no matter when that happens.”
The final plan was a $250 monthly fee for the specialization and first Talent, plus $25 per additional Talent, for a minimum of five years of guard duty, switching to a flat $300 monthly fee after five years. That did not look much, but it almost added 40% to the guard’s budgeted wages and benefits, which made the mayor wince.
“At least I get back some taxes,” he joked after doing the calculations. “For the price, I hope we can get the exact Talents we want.”
“Not everyone qualifies for all Talents. We will propose two possible ‘builds’, and your guards’ office will have three days to pick what fits better your needs.”
“So, a five-guard trial run, and they can cancel? What’s to prevent them from saying no, once they got their Talented guards? It’s not as if we could forcefully remove their Talents. Even if we get a barred parchment from the Ancient to remove one, the person has to accept the parchment.”
“The fact that once their guards retire, they won’t get the same deal?” Ulrich said with a straight face.
“True,” she admitted. “So that’s, what… $1600 per month? If I assume four Talents per guard. Doesn’t sound much. We’re still hemorrhaging money with those Talent House people now.”
“That’s still almost $4000 per separate Talent over five years, close to what we estimated the price at first. And that’s for the first phase in New Sandusky before they add more to the roster. Passive income is the best way to deal with any organization like the city anyway. Once you expand, the money flow will reverse. Speaking of which, you haven’t decided on how you want to approach the salvagers’ case,” he noted.
“I’m waiting for Miles’s input,” she replied.
“He’ll tell you a flat fee. Just… well, make it higher if that includes Mana Sight. Because every salvage team is going to want that. I know Madelynn made an offer to your friend Petra. She’d get both an Earth Shaper and an Artifact tracker. If Cameron doesn’t outbid her.”
She sat down, finally drafting a letter. She’d been too busy, and now that she knew more about Talents, she could finally send it. Just the Metal Skin talent alone told her Countess Rocastle would qualify for Metal Shaper, not just Shaper. She still didn’t know why the Ancient hadn’t given it to her. But she could make that decision now.
In theory, Catherine would qualify for at least one more Talent since she had to be level 6, not just 5, based on the skin’s requirements, but the only guesses she could make were on Dexterity – nothing in the other qualities was implicit in the woman’s existing Talents. And, well, the only Metal Shaper Talent she could find in Dexterity under Level 7 was Flame Arrows, which fit more a Heroic type – it was Ranger-available, after all – rather than Catherine’s existing set.
Stolen novel; please report.
She sighed. She’d have to send just a specialization parchment. She’d make it discreet –Catherine lived in the Marches of the Montana, after all, and who knew what shenanigans the Warden might do. But…
Letter from anonymous to Catherine Rocastle.
Countess Rocastle,
I hope this year finds you well, your domains in good shape, and your children growing well.
I will not bother you overlong with stories of travels far and wide, but I found I was remiss when we visited the demesnes last year. I hope you’ve been enjoying our gifts, but I discovered belatedly that we left you one that was not fully suitable for your talents.
You will find enclosed a better replacement. Don’t worry, it will be fine with the travel. These things keep their shape no matter how they get mishandled. I sincerely hope – no I know – it will suit you, and make your life much better.
PS: I don’t know how you ended with a lesser version. This one should fix it and make everything better.
Sincerely,
Anonymous
“Wait, you can tell if we lie?” the first of the five guards said.
The first intake of city guards had finally been sent by the city hall, and Johanna, plus Esaie Saint Louis, the Talent House guard that had qualified for Detect Lies, had started the interview process. It was a bit weird to use someone initially recruited for a guard as an interviewer, but the man had had an outright +3 in Empathy, and a Fast Fixer profile, although he was only Level 4, so that would come later. He’d even laughed at the idea of being a “Saint”.
“It’s going to be a standard. It’s not just about the money, we want to make sure you’re a good fit. So, I’m going to ask questions and make sure you’re not doing this for your own benefit. Then we’ll start measuring you to create a build, a set of potential specializations and talents.”
The guard swallowed. She’d demonstrated as a way of introducing how parchments worked, by having the guard activate a simple Perception parchment.
“So, are you volunteering, or were you ordered to become a Talented guard?” she began, as Esaie’s eyes started to shine slightly with mana.
“Those two options are your best ones. A defensive Guardian for your team, with a potential for growth to Keeper, provided you can gain a second Level later, or a more active front-line Focused Battler. Take those two provisional build sheets, and as agreed, discuss them with the rest of the team and the city hall. No need to rush. Come back with your answer next Monday, will you?”
She relaxed after the last of the five left.
“I’m pretty sure that last one had second thoughts, at least about using the Talents outside of patrol duties. He… worded his phrasing carefully,” Esaie said.
“Why?”
“I know him. He’s the captain of the guard. That kind of position probably involves politicking, at least in some form. I wouldn’t be surprised if he were thinking of that.”
“You think we should focus on Guardian for him then? Less dangerous?” she asked.
“You’re the boss,” the guard-cum-interviewer said.
“Contractually, we offer them two possibilities. But given the rest of the team, I wouldn’t be surprised if the city hall decided that he should pick Guardian anyway. I don’t think they truly understand the subtleties of specializations.”
“Do we?” Esaie countered.
“I’m not the Ancient,” she admitted.
The guard shuddered slightly.
“Zahl is going first?” Miles asked. “We haven’t even finished setting up here and you go out-of-state?”
“We have parchments sitting upstairs. And we have Mark already there. I did promise him that he’d get more for Zahl.”
“I was thinking of more of places like that city, Cheat, where we passed through to take the road to Washington,” Miles countered.
She remembered the reinforced palisades, the advanced guard towers. Even if it was peaceful when they’d been through, you could feel the difference between it and New Sandusky. Despite its proximity to the mana-heavy areas of the Marches, Sandusky did not have that siege mentality that Cheat exuded.
“You think we should have a full branch or something there?”
“Maybe. You decide. There are three different ways we can start to expand. Small local contact, a single person who oversees, does preliminary vetting, and sends people our way for a full evaluation and build.”
Miles lowered a second finger.
“Two, the same structure, but we build parchment sets here according to a copy of that Talent sheet your professor designed, and send them under proper guard. Downsides: you also need someone out there with Gauge Stamina to measure the levels first and a set of those measurement tools. You can get away with the former if you make provisional sets for future growth, pretty much like the ones your patron did, but you need the latter.”
“We have a lot of those,” she replied.
“Not enough for every town.”
Another finger finally went down.
“Or, for places that really need one, a full branch. An office, a small store of parchments, a basic staff, et cetera. That’d be useful for places that need a lot of Talented around… and places where they risk dying and need to be replaced quickly.”
“Beast waves. Cheat seems a good place for that option, you mean,” Johanna said.
“You could set up an adjutant there.”
Johanna winced.
“Let’s not call it an adjutant,” she said.
“Deputy, then.”
She scribbled notes. She thought setting up the Talent House would go faster, but each option took too much time.
Robert Mansfield, Mayor of Cheat, heard the knock at his door.
“Come in.”
Another knock came. Robert sighed, stood up, and went to open the door. He was surprised to see no one at first.
Then he looked down, and down, until he looked at a small face framed with black glasses.