Helmund stared at Glade in disbelief, leveraging every ounce of his business and negotiation skills to come up with the best response possible to such an absurd idea.
“Uhhh….”
Shaking his head to clear the myriad of conflicting thoughts going through his mind, Helmund took his seat, his drink all but forgotten.
“I’m certain I didn’t hear you correctly, so if you could please clarify your statement,” he said, his voice strained. “Are you speculating what would happen to your friends if their collars were removed by an Adjudicator? Or are you inferring that you can free slaves?”
The fact that his newest business interest even mentioned such an idea sent chills down Helmund's spine. There were few powers outside of the Emperor himself that could influence the flows of true power in day to day life. The Slavers Guild was one such power. In the economic structure that was the Empire, they were the bedrock. The foundation. Everything, and he meant everything, ran off that certainty.
The guild’s collars were known to be flawless. Even the cheapest models couldn’t be tampered with, their security refined over the centuries so that slaves could only be released if they fulfilled their contract or were killed. Even then, the guild was known to re-collar those who underwent a rebirth in relatively short order, so long as the contract permitted such an action.
The very idea that collars could be removed was beyond ludicrous. Laughable even. Though it did warrant some thought if the collars were removed inside of a labyrinth. Such an act would clearly indicate that the all powerful beings wanted the slaves to be freed.
There was just one problem. Never in known history had such an occurrence taken place.
Glade gave him that unsettling gaze, the one that had initially drawn Helmund’s interest in the man. It was equal parts piercing and overwhelming. Like condensed will that stripped away everything it gazed upon until the truth was laid bare.
If it wasn’t for the fact that this Glade person was developing some sort of settlement in an unknown, resource rich area, he would have hired him as his chief liaison with the houses just to strike the fear of the Adjudicators into the patriarchs.
After a few unsettling moments of silence, Glade responded with a calculated, “Yes.”
Helmund immediately remembered his drink, downing the 50 year old Arginian vintage in a single gulp. Jirea stood, calmly removing the bottle from his reach before coming to stand next to him. She was always looking out for him, that one. How he had ever convinced her to marry him was beyond his ability to comprehend.
“I see…” he said, doing his best not to freak out at the implications and possible economic ramifications of such a claim. “Let's assume your… hypothetical question somehow came to pass. On the surface, it would be taken as you described. The will of the Adjudicators and all that. Of course, there is no historical precedent of such an occurrence happening from my recollection, but that doesn’t mean it couldn’t happen. Then again, slaves rarely are given the chance to enter a labyrinth, which could be one of the main reasons it hasn’t happened yet.”
“Good to know,” Glade said. “But if it did happen. How would the houses react if such a circumstance was to occur?”
“It's not the houses your friends would need to be worried about,” Helmund replied with a shake of his head. “It would be the Slavers Guild. They are the ones that maintain the suppression and control magic. They are known to exercise extreme prejudice against anyone who tampers with one of their collars. Though, I’m not certain they would be willing to go so far as to defy an Adjudicator, but it wouldn’t surprise me either. If it were to happen, it would be best if your friends disappeared the moment they were set free.”
Glade nodded along, nothing on in his expression or his demeanor giving Helmund an idea what he was thinking.
After several moments of silence, where the odd bunch of people who had waltzed into his life out of nowhere glanced between each other as if silently communicating, Glade turned his attention back to him.
“Tell house Lensher we will take them up on their offer, but I will only send 4 to a trial. If they push back I will go as high as 6, but no more.”
“I can sell that. But I don’t know what you hope to accomplish. Betting on the Adjudicators to free your friends…” Helmand trailed off, taking in Glade’s demeanor. The authority radiating off of the man was almost palpable, like what he expected to happen was already a foregone conclusion, regardless of consequence. Just who, exactly, had Holo saddled him with?
“You mentioned something about expanding our business dealings?” he quickly asked, shifting the topic to something relatively safer.
“Yes,” Glade said before taking out a heavy scroll of rolled parchment from his bag. “I have a proposal that I would like to run by you.”
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Glade handed the leather bound scroll over with another unsettling wave of authority that set Helmund’s instincts on edge. Idly, he wondered if the man would be amenable to facing off against the house patriarchs on his behalf for the next couple of days. It wasn’t full time work like he really wanted, but even if he could get them off his back until the auction was complete would be a huge relief. He’d even consider paying the man!
Opening the parchment, Helmund scanned the document, his eyebrows raising higher in surprise after every line.
The Obsidian Bank verifies that upon entering a partnership between Helmund’s Auction House and the undisclosed bearer of the seal below, the Bank will act as broker between said Auction House and the Dwarvish Royal Foundry, Heartstone Foundry Enterprises. Said dealings will authorize the Auction House exclusive rights to sell select dwarven goods directly…
There was far more to the letter than that, which Helmund carefully read over. It gave assurances that the undisclosed party had the political and market influence to enable such a deal and that the bank would be their intermediary. There was, of course, the generous fees that bank would be collecting for brokering such a deal, but even with the bank gouging them for 20% of the profits it was an extremely good deal. Helmand wouldn’t have to front any gold whatsoever, the only risk being the quality of goods coming from the royal foundry. Though even that wasn’t much of a risk seeing as Heartstone was known throughout the Empire and beyond for their exacting standards and impeccable quality.
What made this deal so lucrative was that no one throughout the Free Cities had a tie with Heartstone. Sure, if anyone looked hard enough and paid through the nose they could find a dwarven made weapon or set of armor for sale. But that was the exception, not the rule. Hell, even sundry items were near impossible to find.
This offer was essentially granting him the rights to open up the entire Free Cities market for dwarf made goods.
To be honest, it sounded too good to be true. How could these nobodies who appeared out of nowhere grant him access to the market that every business owner throughout the grasslands had dreamed about for centuries?
If it wasn’t for the Obsidian Bank’s seal clearly stamped at the bottom of the scroll, verifying its authenticity, he would have thrown it back in the man’s face.
It was at that moment, Helmund realized his future didn’t seem so bleak after all.
“Do you realize what you have here?” he said with no small amount of reverence, looking over the official seal in disbelief. There was even a seal of what looked to be a platinum bank marker, which he assumed was Glade’s.
“Yes,” Glade said, giving him his full attention. “You will make your standard 10% service fee for every item sold through your auction. The bank will handle the rest of our profit margins.”
After several moments to consider this incredible bout of luck, Helmund finally asked the burning question that had plagued him ever since he read the offer.
“Why me?” he asked, daring to look Glade in the eyes.
“Several reasons that you don’t need to be privy to,” Glade replied with that flat stare of his. “But suffice it to say, Riya here trusts Jirea and you to keep our involvement in this dealing quiet. So long as all parties involved are happy with this arrangement we shouldn’t have any problems.”
Helmund's already overly charged mind broke down the nuances of Glade’s statement in an instant. He didn’t understand the details, but his intelligence stat was screaming that Glade and his friends needed to appease powers beyond their control. Which meant they had stumbled onto something that drew the attention of either the Obsidian Bank or the Dwarvish royal foundry.
If he was a gambling man, Helmund would put his money on the Bank. Only they had the power to maneuver all parties involved without risk of retaliation. No one, not even the Emperor himself, meddled in the affairs of the Obsidian Bank.
“I see,” he said, giving Glade a nod of understanding. “I’ll have my people look this over… ow!” he cried out, rubbing the back of his head where Jirea had cuffed him with her hand. “You do realize that hurts, don’t you?”
Jirea gave him an exasperated look before writing something on her slate.
* Sign it!
Helmund glared at the woman he had fallen in love with, only to receive a glare in return. It hadn’t escaped his notice that the potential windfall from this deal would make them enough money so that Jirea could finally open up the school she and her family had always wanted. Only her family followed the Titan’s Path, a bunch of body mages that had refined their techniques and mastery throughout the generations the hard way, outside of normal channels. Now that one of them had finally broken through to Master…
“Fine,” he sighed in defeat. “I’ll take this over to the bank after the auction is complete.. Ow! Will you stop doing that?!”
Jirea had cuffed him again, already writing more on her ever present slate.
* Today. Now.
“As I was saying,” Helmund sighed even deeper. “I’ll get right on this.”
“I’m glad we could come to an arrangement,” Glade said, reaching out his hand to shake. “By the way, when will House Lensher be going through the labyrinth?”
“The day after the auction, when all the houses’ hunter teams have left to deal with the Abyssal threat in the East.”
“Good,” Glade said. “On an unrelated note, we want to conclude our business and be on our way directly after we’re done with the labyrinth. Can you make the arrangements?”
Helmund's eyes widened first in surprise and then in shock. The answer was a resounding no. He most definitely could not do all of that in less than two days. Not only did he have to completely rearrange the auction to take place tomorrow, but he had to now run to the Obsidian Bank. Throw on top of that the extensive purchases Bragden had negotiated for, coordinating with the Lensher Patriarch on the whole trials and naming thing, keeping everything secure so no one found out that Glade knew the name of an Adjudicator, and arranging for the quiet transport of the Gen’Sheld to the Banished Elves? A week wouldn’t have been enough time. How was he supposed to do all of that in two days?
Jirea placed a loving hand on his shoulder as she shared with the others a newly written message.
* Of course he can.
Helmund poured himself another glass of wine.