Numisley stared at the airtight jars of fish sauce. Somehow, Çienten did the deed. Cultrost covered his nose while Palden took a sniff, licking his lips. Çienten beamed, proud of himself.
“The task made me gain a Feat!” Çienten clapped Numisley on the shoulder.
“What’s the new Feat?” Numisley asked.
"Trade secret. But it enabled me to finally finish what you requested. My Feats barely saved these. Half of the barrels you sent are unsalvagable. I advise you to sell them as fertilizer. The other half, the one that isn’t rotten as hell, I salvaged them. I had to borrow–buy salt from a [Salt Miner] friend for the sauce.”
Çienten reached for a loaf of hard bread and scooped a tiny dollop with a clay spoon.
"Give it a taste."
Numisley reluctantly ate the bread. The sauce was exceptionally pungent. Cultrost gagged because of his enhanced sense of smell.
"This tastes good. Try it, Cul."
Numisley extended his arm and Cultrost hesitantly backed off because of the scent.
"No thanks. I'm good." Cultrost put his hands up.
"Pussy." Numisley teased. "Live a little. Not like it kills you. "
"Fine."
Cultrost swiped the piece of hard bread and tossed it in his mouth and chewed it. His doubtful expression melted into surprise as he chewed it.
"Eh. Not really my thing." Cultrost shrugged.
Palden took a bite of the bread and fish sauce. Çienten gracefully accepted Numisley's request to share the bread and fish sauce with Graten and his men.
Numisley and Cultrost sat across Çienten at the long table in the brewery.
"We would like you to sell these on your behalf. We’ll give you a fifth of the profits from the sauce.”
“A fifth? That seems too low.” Çienten asserted his position, used to dealing with [Traders]. Numisley knew that he doesn’t need to push too much in the bartering. Both parties aren’t interested in completely putting the other side at a disadvantage, but they needed the money.
“I did pay you gold for the attempt. I’d consider it as part of the portion.” Numisley stated.
“I used it for the salt. It was almost five gold coins.” Çienten informed.
Numisley knew how expensive salt is, even back home. The companies back in their home continent had spilled blood for salt mines.
Cultrost poked Numisley and leaned closer to whisper in his brother’s ear. Numisley nodded, agreeing to the suggestion he had.
“How about we’ll give you one-fourth when we sell well. Otherwise, we can only give you one-fifth.”
The [Brewer] thought it was fair. Seeing how young they were, they aren't as cunning as older established [Merchants], so he can trust them to not deceive him.
"That's fair. I accept. By the Decree I trust you. Ask the [Mayor] where can you sell the fish sauce."
They went to the [Mayor], requesting a place where they can sell their goods. She directed them to the town plaza, where all the [Merchants] are. However, Numisley asked for a specialist, and it turns out they have one, fortunately. Numisley paid him within the day to create dozens of clay bottles and pots. Numisley asked Palden to find [Carpenters] to make additional crates. Silver was spent during the day, a cost that Numisley didn’t mind taking.
The day after, they went to the plaza. Some [Merchants] remained even during the goblin raids. They eyed them, like sharks seeing a school of fish. Palden and Graten’s men moved the wagon of crates of bottles and pots in the plaza. The stalls beside them had smelled the pungent sauce. Graten was requested by Numisley to sell the barrels of rotten fish as fertilizer for the [Farmers] on their behalf.
Numisley and Cultrost stood in front of the wagon, guarded by three of Graten’s men.
“Gildin Trading is now selling a new product from Grano Birras ill-Casa. Fish sauce made by Çienten himself!”
That made the locals curious. The town’s famous [Brewer] had made a product other than beer. Much to the dismay of the other [Merchants], the locals started to cluster around Numisley’s stall, leaving those uninterested in Numisley’s new product. The first people who approached bought the bottles, while the subsequent people were more hesitant.
Word spread through the town, and Gildin Trading's coffers became full from their jars of fish sauce and fertilizer. Within the day, they earned a lot of silver and copper coins.
"This is nice."
Numisley delicately counted the coins that they earned within the day. Cultrost stared at him as he read one of the books.
"Yep. Phew. We thought we would be broke from the rotten fish." Cultrost sighed.
"I feel like that noble has something to do with it." Numisley thought out loud.
"Why so?"
"A gut feeling. We'll find out soon, I think."
"If that's the case…"
"We have no evidence yet. Palden's idea saved our profits. I intend to reward him soon. But, I had plans to discuss when we get back to Ovespuerot ."
"Plans?"
"Yeah. Raudaeiz is finding the [Information Broker] in the list. I intend to make my first foray into the selling of secrets. After we meet with the noble."
"I see. What's our plans for the future then? If we don't get killed, of course."
"I have the idea of the structure of our company when we get big. You will be my right-hand man, of course. General affairs and stuff, especially in my absence. Yet you will also be my [Bodyguard] if you agree."
"Wait, do you mean to give me-"
"Yes. I figured that your [Warrior] Role would be subsumed if you accept. Your Feats will remain. With the new Role, it's more likely you’ll gain abilities that are more…defensive. We can't afford to be on the ‘offensive’ for now. If you get me. "
"Yes. We’re too small. We have like what, a wagon. Seven [Mercenaries] and five criminals. What’s left in our dad’s account. Not even as large as a small company back home.”
“We still got less than a hundred gold. But I get your point. Now, do you want to be my [Bodyguard]? I need you, more than anyone else. Who can pr–keep me safe and not stab me in the back other than my remaining family?”
“Yeah. I’ll protect my weak, lanky brother.”
They both chuckled at that. They both believed that they got each other’s back. Numisley touched his shoulder as if imparting his power to him.
“Now, you are now my [Bodyguard].” Numisley let go of his brother’s shoulder.
“I don’t see the Role though.” Cultrost shrugged.
“You’ll get it tonight. Believe it. If you don't, well that’s that. If not tonight, then it may be much later.”
“Well, if that book says so. Let’s bother Çienten if we can get drunk on his supply.” Cultrost nudged his brother.
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“Sure. Why not? Invite Palden, Graten, and the others for a job well done. Oh, Mister Çienten too since he’s the host.”
The brothers went towards Çienten and asked if he wants to drink with them in his storehouse. They went inside the storehouse and Çienten drank themselves through the night.
From their drunken stupor, Numisley, and Cultrost’s promise was etched in the pages of their souls.
[New Role Attained, Bodyguard.]
[Feat - Disabling Strike, developed.]
[Feat - Defensive Fighting, developed.]
[Feat - Noticeable Goods, developed.]
[Feat - Basic Contract, developed.]
[Feat - Extended Shelf Life, developed.]
“Can’t believe it worked. Isn’t that a bit weird? I thought the book was lying.” Cultrost said to Numisley, as they were traveling back to the port city.
“Well, it's a simple Role. It’s not one of those with special requirements. And you did always protect me back home.” Numisley replied.
“If it's that simple, why doesn’t everyone do this? Just tell people to believe hard enough.”
“The same reason why these kinds of books are secret. And besides, they need actual knowledge and skill for that.”
“So it's not willy-nilly then. We’re close.”
Cultrost pointed to the castle in the distance. The residence of Count Toreeso Rahmeiros Commerro. Cultrost and Palden stayed with the wagon outside of the keep as Numisley handled the negotiations.
The [Count] sat on his padded wooden throne, looking at Numisley.
“How much did you earn?”
“Fifty silver and thirty-two copper. Your fish is rotten, so I sold them as fertilizer and made some of them into fish sauce.”
“Fish sauce?” The [Lord] straightened on his seat.
“I hired a [Brewmaster] who has fermentation Feats. I figured those can be applied to rotten fish, somehow. I sold the unsalvagable barrels as fertilizer.”
“Good. Apologies. This was a test. My test for foreign [Traders]. I’m looking for [Traders] with a certain…creativity–tenacity is the right word for it. Did you gain some preservation Feat?”
Numisley’s hunch was right all along, but he was conflicted about what to think of that. He hated being tricked, most of all.
“Yes. [Extended Shelf Life].”
The Count stroked his goatee ponderously, idly tapping on the padded rests of his small throne.
“That’s good enough.”
“Good enough? I–my company’s [Mercenaries] helped with the defense of Ascogres against a goblin raid. They and my brother killed them.”
“Raid? My son had ridden against them.”
“But he brought most of the soldiers. If that idio–is your son. The townsfolk formed a militia and my [Mercenary Captain] and my brother led them to victory.”
For a second, the Count’s eyebrows are raised.
“Then you did me a great service then. Tell me what you want.”
“Aside from giving Gildin Trading permission to build a headquarters? I want to know why did you test me.”
“I was getting to that part. I was betting on you gaining a preservation-Feat. I need you to transport rotting food. For a party. There’s a big gathering in the Naveirei estates, in the citadel overlooking Ascolitica. Supply them with almost-spoiled food, so I was hoping that your preservation Feat would be powerful enough to stem the rotting until you transport the fish in the castle. Once you delivered it, then it will rot, hopefully slowly, so that the [Chef] would hopefully cook it as it rots.”
“Sounds like a big gamble for nothing.”
“It will make the damned House Naveirei lose face when their guests learned that there is rotten food in the mix. The guests are my damned cousins, and important Houses who wish to ally with that accursed House.”
“My Feat extends the shelf life, not completely preserve it.”
“That is why I’ll supply you with chests with preservation runes.”
“How much will you pay Gildin Trading to participate in this…charade?”
“I will allow you to have your trading headquarters in Ovespuerot .”
“Not enough.” Numisley stood his ground. “If you wish for me to participate in your ‘game’, then I’ll need to be a trusted [Trader]. Does the kingdom have some sort of document that enables me to trade anywhere?”
“The slip. With my seal of the Commerro House, I’ll make you a sponsored [Trader]. You will be able to trade anywhere within the kingdom, along with certain benefits.”
"I need that if you want me to deliver food to that House.”
“I’ll tell the Merchant Guild in my city to issue you a Signo Dato for your slip.”
“Deal. I’ll be part of your plan.”
Numisley held up his arm, reaching for a handshake.
“You…want me to do a handshake?”
"Yeah? It’s how you conclude business in Libertalia.”
“For equals. I’m a [Lord]. You are [Trader]. You should bow to me.”
“You need me to do your dirty work. So that makes us equal.”
“Fair. I should’ve expect that I’m dealing with a Libertalian. Someone who can resist my Aura.”
“In my homeland, even the seineures, the Peers of the Valley shake hands with beggars.”
“I didn’t know that your continent still has nobles.”
“Dunno. Just heard of ‘em.”
“Well, I met more stubborn Libertalians than you. The Admiralty of the Diamond Shore for example.”
The Count stood up, walked towards Numisley, and shook his hand.
“A word of advice. You should not be so…casual with nobility or royalty. I’m used to dealing with Libertalians, but not the rest of the kingdom. Much less Trislan and the rest of Yhril.”
“Got it.”
As Numisley limped away with his walking stick, he looked back to the [Lord].
“Another request. Let my brother accompany me here. Even if he’s not Human.”
“Granted.”
-
“Yeah, so that’s that. The guy wanted me to delivered spoiled food to a party. A month later no less. I just need more Feats.”
“Sounds like what many of us did back in the Strip.”
Numisley talked to Cultrost and Palden at noon, eating lunch at the inn.
“The guy was bankin’ on you to gain your [Extended Shelf Life] Feat?” Cultrost asked.
“Yeah. This is why the brown book is important. Bet we can do it more efficiently. If we have the resources.” Numisley asked.
“We finally got a shop right? Poor Vaeld is getting overworked.”
Palden had named the horse Vaeld, a somewhat Orcanish name, that they bought in Ovespuerot so that they could pull the cart. The horse now rested in the inn’s stables.
“The guy’s going to find a building for us, if I remember correctly. We just need to purchase it.”
Raudaeiz entered the inn, and walked up to Numisley. He whispered to Numisley, reporting that they had found what Numisley and Cultrost was looking for.
“Well, I guess it is time. Palden, can you stay here with Graten? I think the Count’s man will arrive to lead us to the building that we can purchase. Tell him that we’re going shopping, and don’t let him know my whereabouts.”
“Sure. I’ll handle things from here.”
“Cultrost. Let’s go.”
The Gildin Brothers went with Raudaeiz, walking out of the inn along with two of his men. They headed left towards an dirty alley.
“How did you find it?” Cultrost asked the older Satyr.
“The urchins in the streets back home are the same here. Give ‘em a gold’s shine and they ask a friend of a friend and a dozen more friends. Then you’ll find what you are looking for.” Raudaeiz answered.
“So that’s how.”
“Hey, Baire.”
Raudaeiz tapped one of his men in the shoulder, leaning on a wall. Cultrost and Numisley jumped in surprise, because they didn’t notice Raudaeiz’s man.
“The safehouse’s over there. The informer expects you two.” Baire spoke stiffly to Numisley and Cultrost pointing towards a door at the end of the alley. It was in a clearing surrounded by buildings. There was a wooden back door, and when Cultrost touched the wooden handle, he felt the cold touch of steel.
“An illusion.” Raudaeiz informed. “It’s usual in a safehouse.”
Now Numisley got it. It combines security and being discrete. From the outside, it appears to be a normal back door for a building, and if ever someone wants to break in, they will be having a hard time because the door is actually made out of steel.
“Gildin?” A voice spoke from the door.
“Yes.” Numisley spoke up.
The door opened, and a greying hand beckoned them in.