Ch: 236 Money, It's A Gas
“You gutter bred orphan filth! You should kneel at the feet of your betters, who keep you fed and clothed at great public expense! My tax dollars put a roof over your ungrateful, lice riddled head!” She screamed at the fool in common clothes, wearing the badge of an apprentice Adventurer on his breast.
Journeyman Accountant, Krista had been with the Sublime Guild of Accountants and Bankers for thirty years, fifteen of those as a senior tallykeeper with the Bronze Rabbit company… Most commoners in the city knew to step carefully around her, lest they feel her considerable wrath. Yet, this… Orphan sat there, sipping his tea with an absurdly obscene book in his other hand.
“I came to do a little banking… I find your attitude puzzling and more than a little off putting.” He remarked mildly. “Have you ever considered getting more fiber in your diet?”
Some trick of the voice let his calm words slice through her shrill and abusive diatribe.
“Journeyman Lange, control yourself!” A crisp and professional voice cut in, crackling with authority and command.
Gary peered over his blank notebook, angling the cover for maximum eyeball exposure. ‘Buttception: A Butt Within A Butt Within A Butt by Chuck Tingle’ was the perfect accessory for his little farce.
The new speaker was a tiny person of indeterminate gender, in tatty looking robes that suggested a very senior accountant. Their iron gray hair was neatly cut, but tousled… Dark penetrating eyes that darted quickly over the bizarre scene took it all in as coldly and calmly as any battlefield commander.
Gary’s trained tailor’s eye suspected that those ink stains, the slightly frayed cuffs and rumpled appearance were by design. Unless he missed his guess this person was in charge.
“Master Gibbons!” Krista wailed. “Thank the gods you’ve come! This… Orphan is making a scene in the waiting room, flaunting his disrespect and disobedience! He embarrassed me in front of lady Penelope Stanridge!”
Master Gibbons’ gaze passed right by Krista and her strident complaints, as the guildmaster’s eyes locked onto a small blonde woman in common dress, who was just entering the hall. She was very pretty, but far more importantly, she held a silver trade wand cupped in her hand.
She displayed it casually and subtly, but it drew the eyes of the watching clerks far more strongly than even the spectacle unfolding in the far corner of the waiting area.
Savvy clerks knew that Krista would be throwing yet another of her tiresome and embarrassing tantrums soon, but a silver trade wand was an opportunity… Master Gibbons’ hands flickered in a few subtle ways, dealing out instructions to his subordinates in the guild’s secret hand talk.
‘Krista, stifle that noise. Everyone, back to work, this is a place of business.’ The diminutive leader commanded silently, as they stalked towards the young woman… or rather girl at the door.
‘If that peasant can’t be controlled, have him thrown out. No more disruptions.’ Gibbons signed as they passed through the gate and greeted the girl and her guard.
“Greetings, I am master Sayed Gibbons, head of this branch of the Sublime Guild of Accountants and Bankers… How can I assist you, honored lady…” He trailed off, offering her the space to introduce herself, without actually demanding her name.
While the girl’s clothing was of fine stuff and well tailored, she had the air of a commoner; despite the wand she had now slipped up her sleeve.
“I’m Ivy Rhodes, first finance officer of the Ginger Dreadnought Company, master Gibbons.” She answered tartly, her own gaze fixed on the absurdities unfolding in the corner. “Is this how business is done in Port Sunderland? I’d been told that this was a secure facility for professionals… I’ve come to make investments and create opportunities with serious traders, not audition for a role is some farcical performance.” Her youth and small stature, even her Adventure apprentice badge were all outweighed by a brief glimpse of that small silver wand.
“Be assured, this is a place of sober decorum and measured action… typically.” Sayed did his best to sound confident despite the rising noise level. Now, Krista was arguing with the indentured guard, just as shrilly. “...will call a justiciar, or I’ll have you disciplined for insubordination!”
“I will not! Insubordinate my ass! I’m not getting scolded by the cult of order for you again, fetch them yourself!” Lindsey snapped back. “Last time they threatened to add six months to my contract for filing a false report! ”
“You tell her Lindsey!” The troublemaker cheered, waving his colorful smut for emphasis. “Fight the power!”
Krista turned back to her foe, raising her voice even higher, shrieking at the seated lad with the smutty book. “I will purchase your contract, boy! Whatever it costs, I’ll buy you and make you regret you were ever born!” Krista sneered, pointing her finger at the fool and screaming like a madwoman.
“You’ll be my boot scraper and mounting block when I go to the stables! Mark my words! My cousin is lord Lance, the duchess’ own cousin and court mage! You’ve sealed your own fate, you filthy wretch of a commoner!”
The small man in artfully distressed robes ground his teeth in barely restrained fury, at the ridiculous scene playing out in his domain… ‘If flogging were still allowed in the duchy…’ He signed in savage, clipped gestures.
“Forgive this unseemly mess, please lady Rhodes… follow me to a private chamber… I’ll have the orphan severely disciplined for this, I can assure you.” Gibbons spoke earnestly and with utter assurance. “This kind of disgraceful behavior is not typical of our lobby area. Please, follow me to a private conference room…”
“No, I think we will handle our dealings here in the lobby, master Gibbons… Consider this a stress test of your operations. If this is abnormal and your people are as professional as you claim…” The young woman said firmly, fixing him with an icy glare.
“Surely a private room would be far…” Gibbons began, stammering slightly, as Lindsey now had her finger almost up journeyman Lange’s nose and was tearing strips off her with a tongue at least as keen as any sword.
“...been a supercilious twat, ever since this wretched old pile of stones bought me! Shove it up your ass Krista! I’m an indentured Adventurer, not your fucking personal slave!”
Journeyman Otto tried to interpose himself between the two women, only to be slapped a ringing blow across the face by the furious clerk.
“Gods damn it Krista!” He yelped in surprise. “Good luck to both of you then!” He stomped away, his soft clerk’s slippers making no noise despite his best efforts. He went back to his desk near the swinging gate and pretended to get back to work.
“Yes, the resolution of this matter will inform my decisions. Port Clement is just across the Shallow Sea.” Ivy smiled blandly. “Ginger Dreadnought is planning to invest significant resources with… someone, somewhere, so it’s wise to witness these goings on.”
“We could be at Centre Port in a day and half…” Her outrageously handsome guard said happily.
When Gibbons shot the boy a furious glare, Ivy smiled coldly at him. “Forgive me, I was distracted, Dannyl. Master Gibbons, this is Dannyl, our head of security. He will be your day to day contact… since your office seems to be a little lax.” The small woman’s bright blue eyes danced with amusement, as she scanned the office floor. Her gaze settled on the portly young man with a red handprint on his pale cheek. He sat alone at his single desk, beneath the flag of a black owl on a pale blue banner.
She turned to her beautiful young warrior and spoke sweetly. “Come Dannyl, we will set up over at the Iron Owl company desk. That should give us a fine view to watch the doings as well.”
#
Junior Counter Otto went back to his desk, lost in a simmering fury… At Krista, at the fool boy with all the furniture shoved up his ass and at himself. He cursed himself anew, as he was forced to watch Sweet, funny, clever Lindsey, take more abuse and insults from that tiresome cunt.
Every night since he’d joined the Iron Owl company late last year his dreams had shown him Lindsey’s smiling face, beautiful and winsome behind her half visor.
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Lindsey was putting on a fine show of defiance at last, battering Krista with sharp words.
“Try and slap me like you did poor Otto and you’ll find how far my indenture contract bends, before it stops me from actually hurting you… I’m curious to find out suddenly!” She snarled, drawing a polite round of applause from the fool who started the whole thing.
“Are you threatening me? Was that a threat of physical violence, Adventurer?” She sneered the title as though the word smelt awful, as it passed under her refined nostrils.
“I’ll have you before the court of Order in a trice, you savage!”
Otto glanced away from the chaos, just in time to spot old master Gibbons marching his way, followed by two kids, a boy and a girl. She was a cute little blonde in common clothing, followed by a handsome lad in strange armor with a leather case slung over his shoulder.
Gibbons marched the odd duo right over to his desk, with a look of deep and confounding displeasure on his face. “Journeyman Otto of the Iron Owl trading company, meet Ivy Rhodes and Dannyl, of the Ginger Dreadnought company…” Gibbons spoke very clearly and calmly, while his fingers flashed in secret guild hand speech.
‘She has a trade wand… it’s real. She picked you, so don’t fuck this up.’
Otto swallowed the enormous lump that suddenly appeared in his throat, as the young couple smiled cheerily and sat down at his desk. “Welcome, the Iron Owl trading company, I read your prospectus last week, please give me a few moments to refresh my memory…” He said calmly, while his insides churned in distress. The young clerk closed his eyes for a second or two as he accessed his gift of memory and logical analysis.
When he opened his eyes again, a teapot and a few plates of small dainties had appeared on his desk… from somewhere. “You don’t mind do you?” Ivy asked sweetly, gesturing to the spread on his desk. “We didn’t expect to be forced to intervene this morning, so we missed lunch…” She sighed happily. “You are more than welcome to join us…”
Her armored escort poured three mugs of tea that smelled divine and slid one over to him, with a small wooden plate of dainty sandwiches. “We have wide ranging interests, from alchemy to hospitality, in the Ginger Dreadnought organization…” The young warrior smiled warmly at Otto, as he turned away and strode a few steps to the waiting area railing.
“We can deal and eat, can’t we… journeyman Otto?” Ivy asked with a mug poised at her lips. Somehow she seemed perfectly at ease, while the drama unfolding behind her teetered perilously close to the edge of a violent outburst. She drew a short silver wand from her sleeve and smiled even more excitedly. “Let’s get the preliminaries out of the way, we have a lot to go over…” Ivy said with a wide and avaricious grin.
#
“...her grace the duchess alone protects you vermin from your proper fate! I’d have you flogged until your back lay in strips, you disgusting orphan swine!” Krista was frothing at the mouth and wild eyed with fury, still spewing horrid threats at the armored woman.
“Perhaps we should begin… do you have a touchstone slate?” Ivy prodded the distracted clerk gently, while tapping her silver wand on his desk. That dragged his attention away from Lindsey and back to the two clients at his desk… mostly.
The fool inside his own personal corral was smiling and passing a small tureen of chicken and dumplings over his rope to the young lad in armor, who returned to the desk and began ladeling the rich, creamy stew and fluffy biscuit dumplings into wooden bowls.
“Wait, is that lunati… that fellow with your company…?” Otto asked very gently.
“Him? No, he is not an officer in our company.” She answered firmly. “Your touchstone…?” She prodded gently.
Otto drew a square tile of slate, ten inches on a side from his desk drawer. The object was thin and mounted into a bronze frame with a small silver button seated in the right upper corner. Ivy tapped her wand to it with a soft, musical chime. Slowly, small jewels set around the rim began to light, as numbers scrolled across the surface of the slate… and just kept scrolling.
He tapped a few jewels to reduce the flood of information to a more manageable flow. The clerk paused to take a deep breath and inhaled the sweet, creamy, deep aroma of the stew that his client had placed before him during the commotion.
Without any deliberate thought on the young clerk’s part, the simple wooden spoon raised to his lips, almost of its own volition. The stew was extraordinary… but even its warming and comforting scent and flavor did little for the fist of ice that clenched his asshole when he looked back over the nightmare scene still disrupting the once orderly chambers.
At least his charming, mysterious clients were unaffiliated with whatever madness had seized the rest of the guild hall.
The madman was still cooking on his bloody stove, whistling a happy tune, while the warrior and senior clerk went at it hammer and tongs. The two women completely ignored the diminutive form of master Sayed Gibbons, who was trying to intervene, without joining the fracas.
Just across his ridiculous little velvet rope, the author of all this discontent pulled a tray out of his little oven and smiled, as the scent of warm berries filled the room.
“Wild berry cobbler Ivy! Your favorite!” He shouted over the rope to his sister.
#
Adam Belen led Rolf’s team and his own Red Ascots through Herdon town and up into the wilds, following the ancient roadway out into the newly recovered territories. Tawny’s expedition to the northwest had been a resounding success, so his orders had come as no surprise… Joining with Rolf’s veterans was a mild disappointment, despite Adam’s overall command of the expedition. He privately acknowledged that the steady and confident veteran warriors were going to be a blessing, if anything truly unpleasant appeared.
Adam’s only real problem was that the leader of Rolf’s team was also named Adam… it was already getting old.
“Hey, Adam…” Susan called over her shoulder. “Tell Issac to tell Adam that dinner is ready.” Giggles of foolish mirth drifted over the wilderness camp from the busy warriors.
“You are all very immature and obnoxious.” Adam said firmly, with a solemn nod to Adam. “At this point, even I’m confused… Which one of us am I?” He asked the flustered cleric.
“I despise each and every one of you.” Belen said with an exhausted sigh. Despite the name debacle, so far the trip had been marvelous, he did not look forward to Tawny’s smug smile when next they met… Her team’s contributions were undeniably excellent, the sullen cleric had to admit to himself.
The prototype ‘Adventure Wagon’, or whatever he called it, that Tawny’s fool had given his team made the whole process of encamping for the night a simple and pleasant affair.
The comfy and colorful tents stowed in the cart were only the beginning. It had a complete kitchen built in that was somehow able to draw fresh, clean water from the air as they traveled, filling its water tank even in relatively dry areas.
The stove ran on the personal Mana of whomever wore the control bracelets, as did the magical cold storage boxes built into the sides. Pulled by a single horse or donkey, the little cart hardly slowed their progress at all, even over roads that were overgrown or partially washed away.
The whole combined team wouldn’t shut up about the damn thing, as they sang its praises each evening. Even more annoying, was the certain knowledge that Tawny was going to smile humbly and insist that her friends were the authors of all these wonders… The horrid girl was just too much.
Even under low hanging clouds and the threat of an incoming storm, these wild forested mountains were stunning. Or perhaps it was the looming storm that made them so regal and imposing… In any case their jagged granite peaks were going to tear the underbellies out of those clouds and give them a good drenching.
Mustafa, Jack and Penz slipped into camp, hauling a small boar between them. “...With a single arrow from sixty yards, Susan… I think young Penz is going to be nipping at your heels in this year’s archery contest!”
William led the team’s storm preparations, staking down tents, erecting awnings and securing the wagon. Their friendly donkey companion had a sturdy awning and a rope corral to graze in. Colette gave Bramble a good rubdown and a pail of oats to settle him in for a stormy evening.
At least the thunderheads had spent their fury in the long run up Wheatford valley, leaving wind and rain to buffet them through the night.
Colette and Issac took first watch together, watching the storm rage from under the awning with Bramble. After an uneventful two hours, she was waking Penz and Jack for the shift change, when Issac called out sharply.
“Incoming!”
Bramble seemed to agree, braying quietly and stamping in distress. Someone tall strode down the disused road, swathed in dark robes and marching through the wind and rain, seeming unperturbed. There were hours til true sunset, but the gloom and rain made the form indistinct.
“Hail traveler…” Issac called when the figure came into view through the misting rain. The figure did not respond or slow, they simply kept marching on, stomping down the narrowed and weedy road from the trackless wilderness beyond.
“Should we… do something?” The young man wondered aloud at the departing form.
“Troubling… but we have our own duty to attend.” Adam said firmly, as he tried to adjust his robes. The cleric frowned unhappily after the departed figure. “We have no legal cause to detain that individual…”
“So why does it feel like we should have ‘detained’ them?” Other Adam wondered softly.
“We will not violate the law and custom of the roads on mere suspicion. Have faith in our comrades at home… I will make every effort to notify them through occult means.” He said calmly. “William, please help me move my tent under that maple tree…”
It took half an hour and help from most of the team to get his tent staked down and lashed under a stand of maples at the edge of their clearing. None of his warriors asked any awkward questions, that was nice, he was unsure how to answer them. He clambered inside and squirmed out of his sodden robes in the surprisingly warm and dry interior. There was an armor rack built into the main tent pole at the entrance, so he hung his soggy garments up to dry… hopefully.
A few days before, one of his sister’s crew had given him a small bottle, with a request that he drink it and sleep beneath a maple tree… Now was as good a time as any to try something foolish. Something about that swift walking figure in dark robes had chilled him to the core, even with so little interaction.
He gave a slight shudder at the thought of that storm wracked robe, swiftly floating over the road in the gathering darkness. He unstoppered the bottle and drank an explosion of sweet and floral flavors that washed his fears and worries away.
He lay back on his low cot and relaxed, trying to find some inner peace, under the storm lashed canvas… though, beneath the trees, the storm seemed far less immediate, even a little distant… It was pleasant beneath the trees spreading boughs, savoring the sweet taste of the draught and looking up at the… leaves?
Adam sat up and found himself on his cot, surrounded by an endless forest of maples, stretching off into the distance in every direction and somehow, every season.
To the right, bright green leaves went for miles until they became sweet springtime buds, then bare, reaching branches on a far mountainside. To his left, the leaves darkened to full summer’s green, before slowly shifting into autumn’s blazing colors in the distance.
Ahead and behind was the same; springtime behind, summer and autumn before him, no matter which way he turned.
“Welcome, Adam Belen. You are safe here, this is but a dream.” A soft female voice whispered from all around. “I am the maple grove and a friend of your sister… she is rather worried about you.”
“Before we unpack whatever my dear sister has told you about me…” Adam smiled ruefully into the woods all around. “...do you have the power to notify anyone in Wheatford or Herndon of a suspicious person… or something marching their way?”
“Really, mortal…? Very well. Yes, I can spread the word to those able to hear my voice…” She gave a vast and leafy sigh, from all around him. “Now, let us speak of your sibling rivalry…”
“Can you show yourself? I feel odd speaking to the trees…” He murmured into the comforting woodlands of his dream.
“Only if and when you allow me in… your bond with Order is itchy and too tight at the moment. You really should have put Joy there instead.” She sighed gently in his ear from very far away. “I have touched your dreams now, we will speak again… When you are more open to the experience, my child.”
With the unmistakable sensation of a fond kiss on his forehead, Adam slipped into a ‘normal’ dream of riding a colorful pony over wide meadows and scattered wildflowers that were heartbreakingly beautiful.
“Bloody Tawny…” He sighed in his dreams. “She just can’t put a foot wrong…”
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