The inn we stayed at had a cosy and relaxing feel, its walls were lined with curtains, and its colours faded over time. The air inside carried the mingled aromas of spiced wine and the faint tang of wood smoke from the hearth. As I sat by the window in my room, a lantern casting a soft glow over my hand and the contract parchment spread across the table, I felt a twinge of frustration.
The offers weren’t terrible, but none stood out. Most were small tasks—escorts, minor raids, or reconnaissance missions—nothing that would give Nova the edge nor the money it needed to grow. My mind drifted, weighing the risks of picking one of these mundane contracts versus holding out for something better. The sound of the bustling street below, punctuated by the occasional cheer from a tavern, pulled me out of my thoughts. It was getting late. I decided to shelve the contracts for the night and revisit them in the morning.
Just as I blew out the lantern and began to ready myself for bed, there was a knock at the door. Assuming it was Sora with some late-night observation or witty remark, I called out without much thought.
“It’s open. Come in.”
To my surprise, it was Abda who stepped into the room. She moved with purpose, her expression serious but not urgent. She smelled like lavender, a contrast to the inn’s earthy, smoky atmosphere. She closed the door softly behind her and turned to face me.
“Augustus,” she began, her voice low but steady, “I’ve come across an opportunity. One that could earn us a good deal of money with minimal risk.”
“You have my attention,” I said. I gestured to the chair across from me, and she sat down, her hands clasped on the table.
“I’m listening,” I continued after not getting any response from her.
Abda launched into her explanation. “Some of the artisans here in the city are on strike. They’re refusing to sell their goods under the current conditions, and I don’t blame them. The law here is… well, let’s say it’s a bit unfavourable for them.”
Her words were precise, but the sleepiness creeping into my mind made it harder to follow.
“What law?” I asked, stifling a yawn.
She leaned forward slightly, her tone patient. “In almost every city in Calradia, traders need a trader’s license to sell their goods outside the city. Without one, they can only sell locally, and even then, at fixed prices set by the city’s council. So all the artisans have to sell it to the local traders. It doesn’t matter how much demand there is elsewhere; they’re stuck selling at these rates.”
“And the merchants?” I prompted.
“The merchants hold all the power. They buy at the city’s fixed rates and then sell the goods outside for triple or even quadruple the price. Artisans have no choice but to comply, or their goods don’t move. It’s created a situation where smuggling has become rampant.”
I rubbed my eyes, trying to make sense of it all. “So, the artisans are striking to force a change?”
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“Yes. But that’s not the opportunity I’m talking about.” She paused as if choosing her next words carefully. “The opportunity lies in us acquiring a trader’s license. With one, we can bypass the local traders and buy directly from the artisans at fair prices. Not only would this earn their goodwill, but we’d also make a significant profit selling those goods outside the city.”
I stared at her, the weight of her words beginning to sink in. “You’re saying we should get involved in trade?”
She nodded. “I know it’s not what Nova typically does, but think about it. This isn’t just about money; it’s about diversifying our resources. A steady income stream like this could sustain us between contracts and fund better equipment or more recruits.”
“How much does a license cost?” I asked, leaning back in my chair.
“About 5,000 denars,” she replied. “But the license isn’t bound by any one nation. I already had one when I was in Aserai lands, and it would simply need to be renewed, which will only cost around 1000 denars. The cost might seem high, but the return on investment would be almost immediate. Within weeks, we’d recover the principal and start seeing profits.”
She added that she had spoken with a few of the traders and artisans and had learnt that
there is a high demand for olives in the Northern Empire and artisans are unwilling to sell it to local vendors at a reduced price. Thus, there was a chance to purchase it at a slightly higher price and later sell it in the Northern Empire for twice or three times the original price.
I mulled it over, tapping my fingers on the table. The idea had merit, but it was a significant departure from our usual operations. “Let’s discuss this with everyone tomorrow at lunch,” I said finally. “You can bring one of the artisans you’ve been speaking with. Maybe hearing it from them will help the others understand.”
Abda’s face lit up with a small smile. “Thank you, Augustus. I’ll make the arrangements.”
As she left the room, I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling. The path Nova was on was changing, and I realized how sleepy I was before Abda came into my room.
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The next morning, the common room of the inn buzzed with activity as our group gathered for lunch. The savoury aroma of roasted lamb and freshly baked bread filled the air, mingling with the faint tang of ale and the earthy scent of the wooden beams. Plates clattered, and the hum of conversation created a lively atmosphere. I sat at the head of the table, flanked by Silvana and Nathanos, as Abda entered with a wiry man in tow.
“This is Eryn,” Abda said, gesturing to the man. He nodded politely, his hands calloused and stained—a testament to years of craftsmanship. “He’s one of the blacksmiths leading the strike.”
Eryn wasted no time, launching into an impassioned explanation of the artisans’ plight. He spoke of unfair prices, the stranglehold merchants had on the market, and the growing frustration among the city’s craftsmen. His words painted a vivid picture of a community on the brink of collapse, desperate for change.
When he finished, I turned to the group. “You’ve all heard Abda’s proposal. What do you think?”
Silvana was the first to speak. “It’s risky, stepping into an unfamiliar arena. But if what Eryn says is true, the potential rewards are worth it.”
Nathanos nodded. “We’ve always taken risks. This one just looks different. If Abda thinks it’s worth pursuing, I’m on board.”
Sora leaned in, a sly smile playing on her lips. "This isn’t just about the money. Supporting the artisans could win us some valuable allies in the city. But let’s not forget—it might also earn us a few enemies along the way."
The rest of the group murmured their agreement, and I felt a sense of relief. “Alright then. Abda, move forward with the license renewal. Let’s see where this path takes us.”
As the meal continued, I couldn’t help but reflect on the decision. Nova had always thrived on adaptability, and this was just another test. Whether it led to success or failure, it was a step forward—and that was what mattered.