[https://i.ibb.co/c1yFPQS/Hams-Smithy.png]
“This is fantastic!”
Exill exclaimed as he wandered around the ground floor, the Smithy was just as he remembered it. Ham must have left in a hurry because the display stands, forge and anvil were still in their rightful places. Exill just needed to source some equipment and he could craft his own gear.
‘I’m going to leave the forge in the backroom alone. Instead, I’ll partition the shop floor in half to create a small treatment room.’
The area upstairs held a large but sparsely furnished living room. It connected to a well-equipped kitchen and two small bedrooms. He turned to Envy, energised by the potential before him, “Can I leave you to clean the house? I need to drop by the Magistrate’s, Guild and Diallo’s to update our address and I’ll bring our gear from the Inn.”
“Tch… fine.” She scowled while running a finger across the dirty counter.
Exill gleefully left the Vampire to do the arduous task of cleaning the place up. Soon, he arrived at the slave market and Diallo’s compound, greeting the hunched assistant.
“Good morning, I would like to update our address to Witchdoctor’s Clinic in the Eastern Market. Also, here is the 1300 Denars for this month’s instalment.”
“Thank you, this is your third instalment, and you have 9100 Denars outstanding. If you could sit over there for a minute… I know the Master wanted to discuss some pressing matter with you.”
Exill cautiously took a seat, this didn’t sound like good news. Shortly thereafter, Diallo entered the reception area, recognizing the Witchdoctor.
“Good, follow me.”
The two entered the slave trader’s private room where he promptly started pouring out glasses of dwarven spirit. The normally blunt man appeared strangely reluctant, hesitant even, as he opened his mouth several times as if to speak.
“I’m not sure if I should tell you this… I’ve received an offer for your loan contract at twice its residual value.”
Exill froze as he did some mental math. There was 9100 Denars remaining, and someone was willing to pay twice that for his contract. It couldn’t be good news, and he couldn’t wrap his head around what their purpose was.
“Who would buy it on such terms, and more importantly, are you planning to sell?” he asked cautiously.
“No, I can’t say who it is and don’t intend to sell. What troubles me is that they knew the terms of the loan, and I doubt you’ve been sharing this information. I’ve investigated all my staff and they came out clean.”
Exill nodded, but one thing didn’t make sense. No sane merchant would pass on an opportunity to double their money at no cost to themselves.
“Why didn’t you sell?”
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Diallo gave him a mournful smile, a complex emotion flashing in the bottomless pits of his eyes, “In my line of work… you learn not to cross people who stand up against nobles, and win for that matter - all for the sake of a slave.”
Exill paused, trying to imagine how Diallo came across such a life lesson. In the end he gave up, simply nodding his gratitude, “Thank you, I appreciate it. She is not just a slave to me. Feel free to call if there are further developments.”
He shook hands with the slave trader and left the market, complex theories whirling in his head. There were two key suspects that came to mind, but at that moment, he couldn’t fathom why they would want to purchase a meaningless contract when it wouldn’t do them any good. It was not as if either party could unilaterally change its notarized terms.
The agreement with Diallo was deceptive in its simplicity. It simply stated that he had to make ten monthly instalments of 1,300 Denars as well as providing discounted healing services. In the event of a default, Exill had to return the slave to Diallo, and forfeit all payments made.
‘… I hope it isn’t what I think it is.’ He thought, pushing past the crowds.
The slave trader giving him a heads up, and rebuffing the deal was greatly appreciated. However to truly put this matter to rest, he needed to come up with 9,100 Denars as soon as possible.
Consumed in thought, the Magistrate’s Courthouse soon came into view. It was a sprawling two storey building, decorated with arches and plinths, as well as a large copper dome at its centre. Inside, he admired the vaulted ceiling and elaborate wall panelling while waiting in line. Observing the hushed whispers of passing government officials, he soon moved to the front of the queue and approached the clerk responsible for permits.
“How can I help you?”
“I would like to change my address and register for a business permit.”
The Clerk squinted at Exill’s Card then entered a back room where rows of stacked clay tablets could be seen. He shortly emerged holding a mini tablet about the size of two baseball cards.
“The address has been updated, and what business will you be opening up sir?”
“Witchdoctor’s Clinic in the Eastern Market.”
“That will be fine. The business permit is 100 Denars and is valid for twelve months. The fee for changing your address is ten Denars, for a total of 110.”
Exill grumbled inwardly as he forked over the coins. In the space of a day his wealth had shrunk from 4500 down to 1200 Denars. It irked him that he was currently poorer than his slave. He trudged to the Guild in a miserable mood. Exill had saved the worst for last because Iris would undoubtedly hold his hand and fuss about his month-long recovery.
After waiting in line for a while, the situation unravelled just like how he predicted.
“Exill! How could you not drop by during all this time!” Iris gripped both his hands tight as she leaned over the counter to check his legs, giving him another generous glimpse of her cleavage.
“I’ve only recently recovered, actually I’m here to change my-”
“You could have still sent a message! I heard you nearly died, then what’s this about you healing people while you were crippled? What happened to your duel?”
Exill peeled one hand away and peered back to find mercenaries queuing behind him impatiently. He sometimes wished Iris would be more professional in her conduct, this was a place of business after all!
“Ah. This might not be a good time. If you want to catch up, drop by Ham’s Smithy in the Eastern Market. I’m setting up my new clinic there.”
Iris followed his gaze to see the fretful line behind him, forcing her to release his hand. She glared at him with unyielding grey eyes.
“Fine. Tomorrow morning.”
Exill channelled mana into his divination coin as he exited the Guild. It had become a habit whenever he was lost in thought, and a glance told him it had landed on its edge again. He had a bad premonition of inviting Iris to the Clinic.
‘I wonder if I need to serve her tea.’
It was another worry, added to hundreds on his mind. Opening up a clinic was no small feat, and he was on a time crunch at that. Finding renovators and suppliers was relatively simple. It was sorting the good from the bad that took time – something he didn’t have much of.
Frowning heavily, he made his way to Sundry Inn one last time to pick up their belongings.