Having spent most of his life residing in one city or another, Don Barlone found the trip to the quaint cabin in the woods slightly unsettling. The forest could hide too many unknown threats, and only his imagination maintained a sensible framework to categorize the new terrain. Holes in trees were like windows in buildings that could obfuscate a sniper with a crossbow, large boulders were akin to parked wagons with armed assailants just on the other side, the sparse wildlife casually feeding nearby were reminiscent to urchins paid to distract you while cutthroats closed in. All threats and opportunities could be categorized and assessed if one remained vigilant and flexible, and the entirely utilitarian cabin just ahead could be just as much a trap as it could be the “opportunity worth three favors repaid” that his second cousin twice removed had promised.
Said cousin had met the Emperor once, could have maybe killed him too. Such a chance encounter had been but a tiny seed that would now bear fruit, but whether that fruit were ambrosia or poison remained a mystery. One could choose to walk away or put it to one’s lips and bite down. A younger Don Barlone may have chosen the former, too cautious to be the trailblazer into such an unknown as making a direct deal with a dragon, one who was an Emperor no less. Tales and legends both said fortune and death walked hand-in-hand with those who ventured into such dealings.
“Destination: Status?” asked Don Barlone to seemingly no one in particular with a simple tap of his right index finger that gripped his trusty artifact, his Corpus Cane, which also functioned in the conventional sense as a normal cane in addition to its many other “utility applications”.
“Don Barlone, your [Shadowfoot Pads], [Shadow Footpads], and [Shadowpads] stand ready, but an ominous and terrifying presence rendered them incapable or unwilling to approach the cabin. Something powerful and supernatural lurks within, but it does not appear to be hostile, just unwelcoming to eavesdroppers.”
Hun Tzu had always been a reliable lieutenant, and if he said something in the Shadow Path prevented egress into the Domain lurking within the cabin, then Don Barlone took his word that none could or should dare enter unless in the material world. Surely, Hun Tzu would have attempted to enter as well and likewise failed, otherwise they would not be having this conversation.
“Acknowledgement: Outcome acceptable. Action: Plan continuation.” Don Barlone signed back in the same cant as before by scratching twice on the left side of his neck with only the first three fingers of his left hand, followed by dragging his right foot backwards and upwards across the ground as if moving a pebble that was irritatingly underfoot.
The letter from the Emperor said to come alone, and Don Barlone found it difficult for there to be mutual respect if he didn’t at least try to sneak in a few trusted associates via the Shadow Path. Likewise, had his associates succeeded in their attempts to infiltrate the cabin, that would have spelled ill tidings of incompetence for any relationship with a new business partner of such suggested prowess. Such was the delicate game for those who do not walk the straight and narrow path through life; always probing for weakness to assess strength. Illusions, misdirection, and knives in the back were just part of the game as the rules and players ever changed.
Alone, Don Barlone hobbled forward with his trusty cane offering support for a weary old riccen, at least as far as a casual observer would surmise. He yet had many good years in him, and his vigor had not waned during the time that green inexperience yielded to seasoned wisdom earned through trials and tribulations. By casually dragging the claws of his foot through the dirt just before the door, he kicked up some dust and loose soil that had gathered near the path to the cabin that had been well-worn at one point but had been partially reclaimed by nature.
[Dust Devil’s Deal] surreptitiously carried the dust on silent gusts all around the cabin, the fickle whims of wind tracing any wards, enchantments, or other such works of magic that may be placed upon the cabin. At first, Don Barlone thought it all completely inert, and disappointment in the preparedness of his new business partner took root. However, a second glance observed the most subtle of patterns that such workings of magic did indeed exist. A more thorough examination suggested that such was left there deliberately to allow a skilled observer to detect them, for the mastery of skill that had been used to create such discrete protections would not have been sullied by such mistakes.
The twitch of his whiskers announced the small smile that graced the riccen’s face. Few individuals throughout the years had possessed the skill to weave such wards or bestow such enchantments that were as subtle as these, and fewer still had lived much longer than the discovery of their craft. While no master himself at creating such intricate work, Don Barlone prided himself in his skill at detecting it, and he would probably be dead now had the Emperor possessed ill intent and not left a few traces of his workings there for an experienced observer to detect. Perhaps this would be an interesting partnership after all, despite the strange terms.
With a steady and confident hand, Don Barlone turned the simple wooden handle and pushed the door open. Inside, at an unadorned wooden table, sat a man, one who could seemingly be from anywhere and nowhere at once, a face that was handsome for a human, yet vexingly as trustworthy as it was otherwise unremarkable. He felt as though he had met the man somewhere, yet would be hard-pressed to say when or where, as the man would have seemed appropriate in any crowd and among any class of people. He wore clothes of yellow and black, nothing ostentatious or gaudy, but pleasingly stylish nonetheless.
The woman next to him was certainly eye-catching, not that Don Barlone found himself attracted to humans, but he still understood beauty when he saw it. She wore an outfit of loose and slightly translucent fabrics of greens and blues, her garments trailing up and down her body to showcase her best assets while obscuring little. Her hair was not braided, but it was worn tight to her scalp and pulled through intricate brass bands that brought it behind her head and let it hang down like a tail, with more brass bands keeping it together and offering decoration to her figure otherwise bereft of jewelry. No doubt that she would be Princess Nanu, if the reports were to be believed.
“Honored elder!” greeted the Emperor as he rose from his chair with arms open wide in invitation. “Welcome to my little corner of the world. I am delighted that you have accepted my request for a meeting so far away from the city. I hope your journey was not too taxing.”
“You honor me, Emperor,” Don Barlone replied as he bowed slightly with both hands on his Corpus Cane for support. “My name is Don Barlone, and the road here was among the smoothest I have ever traveled. No incidents of note occurred on my journey.”
“Excellent!” the Emperor exclaimed with seemingly honest enthusiasm, but the glint in his eyes betrayed more cunning than his care-free and exuberant attitude suggested. “Please, have a seat. It is best to talk terms in comfort, yes?” the Emperor continued as he gestured to the out-of-place chair. While the cabin was bland, the chair had been carved with exquisite detail and upholstered with the most comfortable of materials, if Don Barlone’s satisfied posterior was correct in assessing the chair’s deep padding. It even had the side cutout in the back for him to slide his tail into so that he could sit comfortably, which was uncommon in furniture made by humans. To be fair, though a human presentation stood before him, a literal dragon lay hidden beneath such a visage. “Can I offer you any refreshments?”
Before Don Barlone could answer, thin portals of darkness manifested above the table, and from such foreign dimensions that lay beyond the material world, plates of cheese, cold-cuts, and sliced fruit drew forth from The Void and placed themselves down gently upon the table. Vintages of various wines both commonplace and exclusive likewise graced the table with their presence alongside fruit juices and crystal clear water.
A twitch of the whiskers revealed that Don Barlone’s sensitive nose had caught the delectable scent of smoked gouda cheese that had been perfectly aged, and a glance from the eyes caught the label of a most exquisite bottle of black raspberry wine. Normally, Don Barlone would never trust the food and drink offered by someone outside the family at any sort of business meeting, but considering the Emperor could have easily killed him if so desired, Don Barlone allowed himself to sample his favorite snacks that just so happened to be placed at the front of the rest of the fine spread. Dumb luck could always be a factor, but how did the Emperor know not only which Riccen elder would be sent to negotiate the deal or what his favorite foods would be?
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“Most delicious,” spoke Don Barlone with a refreshing degree of honesty after digging into the smorgasbord before him. A few bites had reminded him how peckish he had become after the long walk from Berkerin to all the way out here in the boonies where literal monsters could spawn at any moment. Being that he was not some uncouth cretin, he swallowed his next mouthful before continuing. “I have reviewed the terms you have laid out in your offer and I find them to be rather… unusual. Some may say that such a deal is too good to be true.”
“A fair point,” the Emperor replied as he helped himself to the spread as well, “We do live in rather extraordinary times, and such calls for innovative approaches to solving problems. I believe the terms are rather generous, but I can understand how they may deviate from your normal… business ventures.”
The terms were rather explicit. The Emperor sought to recruit a full gang of riccen to secretly police the riff-raff of his city. Bribery, blackmail, extortion, slavery, racketeering, graft, drugs, smuggling, larceny, murder, gambling, and basically getting their whiskers into any unsavory or illicit acts was forbidden except where authorized. Essentially, the good and honest folk of the city were off-limits, while the ne’er-do-wells were not only fair game, but it was the duty of the gang to cull or eject them from the city. Essentially, they were the muscle for the royal fixer when legal channels would prove too cumbersome to eradicate problems.
“From my point of view, my city, World’s End, will be the largest concentration of the best and brightest the world has to offer. Skilled artisans, the most powerful of Adventurers, veteran soldiers, and the most enterprising of merchants will make it their home. It will not be a sleepy city like Berkerin, but rather, it will be at the forefront for everyone who’s anyone that aims to further their ambitions. Not only will you and yours be paid handsomely for your work, you will have the perfect training grounds to hone the skills of the most elite members of your family. All I ask is that you follow my rules and those of whomever I appoint to oversee your operations. I understand many of the ‘spicy’’ aspects of your career path may be off-limits most of the time, but there will be no shortage of opportunities for you to apply your trade.
“I assume that you were chosen to represent the interests of your people in this venture because you are the most flexible and you are willing to abide by a code of conduct. Your activities will remain clandestine, your use of force restricted until authorized, your underlings abiding by a chain of command instead of the whims of their own egos. That may mean that they have to smile and go about their lives peacefully when someone disrespects them in the street. It will also mean that they will at times be permitted to indulge their desires for unscrupulous activities and perhaps seek retribution for any mistreatment they may have suffered, provided that no innocents are involved and that the general public remains blissfully unaware that any of it ever happens. You need not fear the guards, courts, or gallows so long as you toe the line, other than a spot of theatrics to at least maintain the appearance of law and order. Just consider any rough handling to be part of the punishment for getting caught.
“Now, do you have any concerns you wish to raise, or have we reached an accord?”
Princess Nanu, for her part, appeared aloof and uninterested in the conversation as she stood behind and to the side of her Emperor, her eyes seemingly captivated by the drab details of the woodwork around the cabin. However, the casual menace that emanated from her posture and the balanced poise of her feet suggest she remained ready to react at a moment’s notice to any threat. Truly, Don Barlone thought a few of his [Thugs] could learn a thing or two from her.
“Just to be completely certain that there exists no miscommunication between us,” Don Barlone started with his best diplomatic voice as he spared a glance to the Princess, “I find it prudent that we review a few terms.”
The next two hours passed quickly as the Emperor cooperated in negotiating terms and redefining the terms of the service-level agreement between Clan Ricin and The Crossroad Wayfinders. Refreshingly, it felt less like a negotiation with a copper-pinching merchant, and more like a collaboration with a clan-kin for the juiciest of heists. Don Barlone detected more than a few [Leadership] Abilities contesting his own, but they interacted more like partners in an elaborate dance than two bulls challenging one another for leadership of the herd.
Did all dragons seduce others with such genuine words and casual concessions, or was all this nothing more than this particular Emperor’s school of techniques to get others under his thumb? Either way, it was working, for despite Don Barlone’s best efforts to find the noose lurking within the words of the contract, he could not find any downsides to the deal. Normally, having things go his way so much would trigger his paranoid concern that he was being played, and perhaps there remained some bigger picture or vision that he just couldn’t grasp. However, this time, perhaps for the first time in his life, he saw the opportunity to live in a way that appealed to his own values.
His whole life, he had done as the Clan asked of him, even in performance of deeds that he found unsavory, but this deal promised the right balance of freedom to build a more professional and civilized outfit while also divesting him of any need to handle any matters that he would rather do without. Perhaps he would even gain enough power and prestige to establish his own Clan, one that behaved a little more honorably, at least as much as riccen could. Gone were the days when riccen had class and sent flowers to the funerals of their enemies, but maybe this Emperor would bring them back.
The Emperor was clearly playing all sides so that he always came out on top. The contract hinted at how he would leverage his enemies against one another while generously rewarding those who were loyal to him. Gold coins were always nice, but the Emperor could provide certain enchanted items that just were not for sale, and such artifacts and treasures were key to a Clan’s power.
Don Barlone’s role was simple, the only uncertainty of note being the yet unborn daughter of the Emperor who would be the boss of the Clan. Himself a [Consigliere], he was perfectly suited to guide and educate the Emperor’s daughter in the matters of the underbelly of society. Hopefully, she too would favor diplomacy over brute force, otherwise their relationship may sour. Don Barlone understood in a general sense that dragons have a particular perspective of morality that doesn’t always align with most ‘civilized’ races, but most of any firsthand knowledge had been gained in this very meeting, so he would be sailing in uncharted waters.
Some terms had been weird enough to be called eccentric, like how the perimeter structure of the city should always be addressed as a “road” instead of a “wall”. Specifically, it is called “Exterior Road”, but with as much as he would be compensated for this deal, he would enforce it being called a “giraffe” if that was what the Emperor called for. Other terms were absolutely delectable. Clan-kin would be fighting one another for the opportunity to work at the combined gambling den/brothel that Queen Tamadora would personally oversee, for the devious and convoluted way that it would operate would practically hand out new Skills almost for free. Not to mention, it would be fun in all the right ways to make a riccen happy.
“A gift for you,” the Emperor stated, his words pulling Don Barlone from the distractions of how he fantasized about the plethora of schemes and opportunities before him. The Emperor held out a gold ring, one of a dragon with wings and legs tucked close to its body as its mouth chased its tail. “The chair as well,” the Emperor continued as he gestured towards said comfortable piece of furniture that Don Barlone had been sad to part with, but no longer. “Just will it into the ring.”
With his ring finger of his left hand now adorned with the smaller of his two gifts, Don Barlone had done as instructed. The chair seemingly stretched and bent unnaturally towards the ring as it was sucked inside of it and into a pocket dimension. Surely the Emperor had gone out of his way to make the process more theatrical than normal portals that raise and lower objects in and out.
“It only holds ten cubic meters, but that should suffice for your needs. I whipped it up last night for you.”
Don Barlone stifled a surprise cough at that casual disregard for such an artifact’s power. Enchanted items for pocket dimensions were expensive, and ones that held ten cubic meters would normally be large bags. A good quality ring of this size may hold half of one cubic meter, and only those on par with the income of Platinum Adventurers could afford them. The Emperor’s words suggested that he was capable of creating far more than a ring of this quality, which was easily worth 200 platinum to the stingiest of pawnshops. Some people had Skills that could do the same, but most guarded such secrets jealousy. Little wonder the Emperor paid so well, for selling one of these rings at auction each year would pay for the whole Clan several times over.
Humbled, excited, worried he had found the noose, Don Barlone bowed to the Emperor. “Glorious Emperor is most kind. This one will serve you well,” he stated as he slipped into the lexicon of the royal courts.
“Think of it as my promise to you and your Clan that I will uphold my end of the bargain. I trust you to uphold yours,” he continued with a devious smile plastered on his face that promised unmitigated devastation should the covenant between them be broken. The fangs behind the smile revealed, Don Barlone nervously shook hands with the grinning Emperor whose grip was as soft as the chair’s cushions yet more unyielding than solid steel.