Glade and the others quickly left the bank after adamantly refusing to exchange the older platinum marker for a newer model. Opal had proven to be extremely accommodating in her demeanor while simultaneously being utterly relentless in her varied attempts at circumnavigating Glade’s expressed desire to be left alone. She had personally offered to put them up in a luxury home set aside for the bank’s platinum clients, which came with a full serving staff, hired guards, and even a personal chef. The Gnome had even tried to book them for upcoming balls, luncheons, and more than a few investment consultations.
Opal’s invites had been relentless, forcing him to be more direct in his express guidance to the perpetually smiling Gnome. He wanted to avoid getting involved in any local politics or business ventures more than he already planned. Anonymity was their only shield at this point, flimsy as it was. Glade had even gone so far as to tell Opal they didn’t want to be disturbed, tracked, or even remembered if possible before departing. He wasn’t under the illusion that anyone with even a modicum of power would hesitate for a second to rob them blind and drop them off a cliff to take what they had.
The walk back to the Sand’s inn was quiet, with Cirea the only one of the group trying to start up a conversation. She gave up after Glade gave her a silencing look.
Before they knew it, the group had arrived back at the inn, the three of them dropping Cirea off at the arena and dragging both Gent and Riya into his rooms. They had a great deal to discuss.
“Are you certain no one can eavesdrop on our conversation?” Glade asked after Bragden had activated a simple enchantment inside his large room. They were crammed into a small sitting area which forced Glade to stand while the others sat. He didn’t mind so much seeing as he preferred to think on his feet.
“It's not a perfect solution by any means, but it’ll stop any above average mages specializing in such things,” Bragden said with a shrug. “But if’n ye want an impregnable solution, that’d take me ‘bout a month o’ carving and empowering runes on these here walls.”
“What happened that has caused you to be this worried?” Riya asked, giving Glade and the others a concerned look. “Was your visit to the bank that bad?”
“He be upset cause some powerful people now know that we exist,” Bragden sighed, folding his arms as he leaned back into his chair.
“What exactly do they know?” Riya asked, her frown deepening.
“Quite a bit, actually,” Kedryn chimed in. “It turns out the marker we found is tied directly to Storms’ Rest. More specifically, its leadership. That and in order to access the account the previous owners had both an aura lock and blood lock placed on the marker.”
“And you were able to get past both locks?” she asked in surprise.
“O’ course they did,” Bragden snorted, before muttering under his breath, “...slagging Branded.”
“I don’t like where this be leading,” Gent groaned.
“Whose blood opened the lock?” Riya asked, glancing between Glade and Kedryn.
“You’re not going to ask about the aura locks?” Kedryn asked in surprise.
“It is obvious that if the marker is tied to the Storms’ Rest leadership that it would be tied to your respective titles.” Riya explained with a shrug. “What I’m curious about is the blood lock. That could tell us a great deal about who owned the settlement before us.”
“It's tied to the Servelir bloodline,” Glade said, still pacing the floor.
“Oh…” Riya replied, her eyes widening as the implications settled in.
“Yeah,” Glade snorted, “Which means the Obsidian Bank now knows that an undeclared Royal Elf is in town. Too bad they’re not likely to buy the story Kedryn spun them on how we came to possess the marker. They’re probably putting together an investigation team as we speak.”
“What story did ye spin ‘em?” Gent asked.
“Oh, the typical story of a jilted lordling who got the raw end of the deal from a family inheritance,” Kedryn said with a dismissive wave. “Not my best work, but I didn’t have much time to work on something better.”
“My concern is how quickly they learned where we were staying and that we are conducting business with Helmund,” Glade said, choosing to ignore Kedryn’s flippant response. “That type of information should be next to impossible to get their hands on, especially since we should be nobodies within the sea of people arriving for the upcoming auction. Could they have tracked us using magic?”
“They could have,” Bragden said, stroking his beard in thought. “If’n they have a dedicated astral diviner on staff, which I think isn’t likely. Those kinds o’ specialists be rarer than phoenix feathers.”
“Could they track us down by using any other means?” Glade asked.
“They could have done it in one of a hundred ways that we could only guess at,” Bragden snorted. “Best not to go about swinging yer hammer blindly in this case. All ye’ll do is tire yerself out. The real issue besides them knowin we have a slagging royal tied to us is that they now know Storms’ Rest be resurrected again.”
“I don’t see that as being that much of a problem. I’d never heard of Storms’ Rest until after we stumbled onto it. Neither had Bragden for that matter, though there’s only so much we can expect from Dwarvish historians,” Riya said, giving Bragden and somewhat friendly smirk.
“Yer bar was already low to begin with considering what books ye done read,” Bragden replied with a roll of his eyes. “Still, yer forgettin one very important thing. The only heartless entity that has a longer memory than me own mother-in-law is a bank. And the Obsidian Bank has a bloody long memory.”
Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.
“I feel like all we’re doing is talking about how bad the situation is that the Obsidian Bank knows a little bit about us,” Kedryn said, leaning forward in his chair. “I know you’re all worried, but isn’t one of the mandates of the bank to protect our privacy?”
Bragden and Gent both snorted.
“They only be interested in protecting the privacy o’ those with power and influence,” Bragden explained. “They likely realize that we’re small fish that have just been released into a lagoon o’ slagging sharks. They’ll only be protecting our interests so long as they see any benefit for themselves.”
“But Opal promised the bank would adhere to our desire of anonymity,” Kedryn said with a look of confusion.
“You’re still thinking of how banks and laws worked in our favor back home,” Glade said with a shake of his head. “We don’t have those same protections here. The Obsidian Bank will keep quiet about us up to the point that it remains an advantage for them to do so. Once a better business deal makes itself available they won’t hesitate to sell us out to the highest bidder.”
There was a moment of silence as everyone took in the situation.
“So, what do we do about it?” Kedryn finally asked. “My father always told me that any situation can be turned to an advantage so long as you’re looking at the problem in the right way. Though, I wouldn’t take too much stock into his advice seeing as he was a crap dad.”
“And who, exactly, was yer father?” Bragden asked.
“He is one of the most powerful and influential men in the world where we come from,” Glade said, giving the Corporal an appraising look. “Though, I think Kedryn might be onto something. All I’ve been thinking of since we left the bank was how sideways this could go now that an entity with real power knows about us. I wasn’t thinking that this could be an opportunity as well.”
“An opportunity how?” Riya asked. “From what you’ve described it sounds like our best option is to cut and run. The sooner the better.”
“Would you be willing to leave Lun’Svet in Helmund’s care?” Glade asked with a questioning look.
“Not a chance,” Riya said resolutely.
“I didn’t think so. Also, I’m not leaving until we figure out how to free Vlad and your friend,” Glade said, resuming his pacing. “Which means we need to figure out how to make ourselves an asset to the Obsidian Bank.”
“Power listens to power,” Bragden said, still stroking his beard. “No matter where ye go, that rule rings true like good dwarven mithril. To make them see us as assets they need to see that we have power and influence.”
Riya laughed, though it wasn’t what someone would call comforting.
“You do realize that we’re the world’s biggest underdogs, right?” she asked, her voice dripping in sarcasm. “I’m the heir to the single most feared and hunted people in the entire land, Krazzik and Bragden created a clan despite someone in a powerful position within the dwarvish government trying to undermine them every step of the way, and the Royal Elf in our group is as good as dead if the emperor ever finds out he exists. Even our only human contact, Holo, has been all but ruined by the greater human houses! All we have going for us is that Glade is a full-fledged branded, which is more than likely going to result in a manhunt if word gets out. We’re the one’s every known power wants dead, which doesn’t make for good partnerships.”
Everyone stared at Riya with a mixture of surprise and shock as the reality of their situation came crashing down on them.
“Well, when you put it like that, I wouldn’t want to lend ye a bent copper either,” Gent snorted. “Just means we use me uncle Ghorst’s philosophy.”
“And that be what exactly?” Bragden snapped. “I knew yer thrice damned uncle afore he off and died. He owed me a purse full o’ silver and only ever gave me empty words and promises that smelled like they came straight from his backside when I asked him to repay me.”
“Ha! Uncle Ghorst owed money to half the Crag afore he went and faked his own death,” Gent laughed. “Last I heard he’s livin in some village or other out on the western coast livin large on all the money he swindled!”
“That bloody git is still alive!?” Bragden growled looking for all the world like he was ready to throw himself at the hunter.
“Not exactly the role model we’re looking for,” Glade said with a roll of his eyes.
“Now, give me a moment to explain me thoughts afore ye dismiss me like I’m some hopped up Gnome ready to streak the neighbors,” Gent said, his arms raised in a placating gesture. “Uncle Ghorst got his hands on that much coin cause he tricked half the clans in the Crag that he was someone to reckon with.”
“And how, pray tell, does one go about doing that?” Riya asked.
“Glad ye asked!” Gent replied with a beaming smile. “He used every contact who was worth a damn to convince the others.”
“That's the stupidest thing I done ever heard…” Bragden said, but was cut off by Kedryn.
“That's brilliant!” The Corporal interrupted. “It's not all that different from how my father operated back on Earth. He constantly leveraged others to push his own agenda. He always said something like - let the fools spin their own dreams for you, all you need to do is provide the idea.”
“And who do we have in our little circle of trust that can spin dreams for us?” Riya asked with a fair amount of skepticism.
“Helmund,” both Glade and Kedryn said together.
Now that he thought about it, the idea had merit. They already had a solid foundation built with Helmund. The half-elf had significant political ties within the city as well as the Elvish consulate. He had a foundational understanding of what they had to offer and had just been given a peek into some of their more esoteric worth they had with Glade’s ability to call on the Adjudicators.
He knew that Helmund suspected they were holding even more information back, which they were. He just didn’t know how much they weren’t telling him. If wouldn’t take much to convince Helmund to interface with the Obsidian Bank on their behalf as business partners. They would have to be careful how they approached the auctioneer, but it was in the realm of doable. It might even help them in the long run if they played their cards right.
“I’m not convinced,” Bragden said, eyeing Gent with a baleful eye. “And ye should have told me about Ghorst afore now! Slagging Stonegrinders, can’t trust the lot of ‘em,” he grumbled, cursing Gent’s family name.
“I think it's our best shot for now,” Glade said, already forming a plan on how best to proceed. “But before we begin, Bragden, can you help me understand how valuable that part ownership in the Heartstone Foundry is?”
“Ahhh, I was wonderin when we’d get to that,” Bragden said, perking up.
“What's this now?” Gent asked, looking surprised.
“It be proof that the Mother has a sense o’ slagging humor,” Bragden chuckled. “The King o’ the Crag is also the Heartsone clan chief, and they monopolize the flow o’ all the rare materials, schematics, and powerful enchantments to the Crag’s smithies. The Heartstone clan also be the ones who were against Krazzik and me standing up the Slaghammer clan. I can’t think o’ any better justice in the world that we now own 30% o’ their precious monopoly!”
“That's a lot to unload,” Kedryn said with wide eyes. “So, we’re basically rich, right?”
“Yes and no,” Bragden sighed. “While the idea of owning part o’ the slagging King’s business ventures fills me heart with warm thoughts, forcing them to pay up would likely cause ‘em to just hire some bloody assassins to slit our throats.”
“Again, something that we need to handle carefully,” Glade said, his mind racing with ideas. “Here’s what I suggest we do…”