They spent another three days traveling north without the rain hindering them. Instead of wasting time foraging and hunting, they resisted their hunger so that Palden could continue traveling for days and nights. In Palden’s younger years, he could do this for weeks in the Stokeburn Desert. Now, even with his endurance-Feats, it is tiring for him.
The welcome sight of the walls of Daqquiristo was like when he saw his first oasis back in the desert. Numisley woke up from his rest, and like a sailor who saw land after days in the ocean, he forced himself up at the sight of the city’s walls with a heavy sigh of relief.
After they were let into the city, the group collectively groaned as they could finally put their feet on the ground and stretched their limbs profusely, a strange sight for the local curious onlookers. Numisley adjusted his robes as he saw the market square, a place of opportunity.
“Finally, we can sell our stuff.” Numisley sighed.
“Do we have enough money to feed our men?” Cultrost asked his brother.
“I counted,” Numisley informed. “Not enough for even porridge for all of us.”
“Let’s get it done.”
There was still a stiffness in Cultrost’s voice, knowing that his brother was a murderer and a pillager of villages. Yet he knew they were forced into a corner, and he had this hope that when they would inherit their father’s fortune, they wouldn't have to get people hurt. Palden will have a cushy job, and they could retire Graten and his men so that they could start a new life.
The group was escorted to Daqquiristo’s market square by the city [Guards], where they found a space to sell their wares. The [Mercenaries] helped Cultrost arrange their wares while Numisley and Palden checked their inventory.
“Let’s earn our keep so we can finally eat.”
“Hurrah!” Graten, Yulvres, and the rest of the [Mercenaries] cheered. The [Mercenaries] surrounded the wagons, guarding them against [Thieves].
Numisley stood in front of his stool beside the wagon. The back of the wagon displayed the wares they obtained from slaying monsters throughout their trip. Fogwolf Hides, which still possess mist-producing properties, are hung on a string within the wagon. They also harvested their teeth and bones since they had eaten their gamy flesh in desperate hunger. There were the few cores from the wild Mud and Earth Golems they had slain during their harrowing journey. The rarest item in their inventory was the Storm Elemental’s gem, which he priced for ten silvers.
If they sold everything, they would have more than enough to eat. They would be able to buy supplies, and they would be able to claim their father’s money in the bank. That is, if Numisley managed to steal the customers in the other [Merchants] and [Traders] gathering in the market square.
Numisley adjusted his shirt’s collar and leaned on his walking stick.
“Everyone! Gildin Trading will be selling Fogwolf hide, Golem Cores, and a Storm Elemental’s gem for a limited time!”
Numisley hoped that anyone heard him amongst the chattering of crowds and the beckoning of the other [Merchants] who sold their wares, their stalls brimming with goods on their padded trays and heavy crates. Compared to them, they were destitute [Peddlers]. He was lucky that his [Noble’s Diction] Feat had disguised the dryness of his throat from being thirsty for three days.
Minutes of waiting later, a customer walked towards Numisley. He dressed like a journeyman, with tools on his belt and callused hands. The scent of acrid tannin touched Numisley’s nose, but he resisted his urge to gag.
“Customer, welcome to our wagon,” Numisley spoke in a friendly tone.
“I see you are selling hide I never seen before. Wolf?” The person asked, moving to inspect the hide with his fingers trailing through the fur.
“Fogwolves,” Numisley spoke, hoping he got the Torregornian word right. “Their magic is still there. Suitable for arcane leather.”
Dew had formed in the customer’s fingers, rubbing them together.
“How much?” The customer asked.
“Five silvers each.” Numisley charged.
“That’s too much.” The customer accused. “No one in the Tanner’s Guild would buy such prices for low-grade magic.”
“Low-grade? No. These wolves? When we fought them, they emitted such fog that they covered the forests we were in days ago. If you ask me, this is a generous price. With this, [Tanner]–I assume that’s your Role–you could fashion a leather cloak that produces the same effect.”
This provoked the thoughts of the customer.
“Five it is. I’ll take two.”
Numisley received ten silver coins in exchange for the two hides. He handed the gleaming coins to his brother.
“Cultrost. Send someone to buy some bread. Someone Human, of course.”
By now, they were used to the discrimination that this kingdom had for non-Humans. A significant fraction of their group are non-Humans from Libertalia, too. Among them, only Palden could pass as one if people did not notice his thin tusks and the subtle green hue of his skin.
Cultrost walked to the leader of the Torregornian [Mercenaries].
“Yulvres, can you buy the wagon some bread or porridge?” Cultrost requested.
“I’ll ask one of my men to do it.” Yulvres succinctly answered.
Yulvres gave one of his men an order and gave him their earnings. The [Mercenary] ran off to buy them some bread. Numisley noticed someone in the corner of his eye, who hopped from stall to stall, dismayed by the [Traders]’ scathing words. As expected, it took a while for Numisley to receive the next customer. A balding man who seemed to be a hobbling [Mage] with a wand hanging from his belt inspected the worn, rough-sculpted clay and compressed earth spheres on the wagon, the size of crystal balls, as Numisley and Cultrost ate their porridge.
“Don’t eat too fast!” Palden scolded the other [Mercenaries], rapidly eating their porridge and bread. “I’ve seen starving people puke when they ate too fast and too much!”
Numisley ignored them and turned his attention towards the customer.
“These cores…” The customer asked. “How much for them?”
“Each one costs eight silver,” Numisley answered.
“Eight?” The customer was outraged. “That is too much.”
“They are still freshly slain!”
“Damaged. I can see cracks. Their mana is leaking. So how would I carve wands for them?”
“Would you rather waste time haggling with me or get them while their magic is still there?”
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Numisley ended the argument in a verbal standoff. He had guessed that he charges the lowest out of the [Merchants] here. Numisley had heard back home that each [Trader] has their style when it comes to haggling with their customers, but he just did what was necessary to sell his wares.
“Fine.”
The customer bought eight Mud and Earth Golem cores, which earned Numisley a lot of silver coins, enough for them to stay in the city for a few days. The [Mage] stormed off towards one of the nicer-looking streets.
“When and where are we getting Dad’s coins?” Cultrost asked, chomping on a piece of bread.
“We just need to sell most of them. The cores especially. There’s still the Elemental’s crystal that we need to sell.” Numisley answered.
It was past noon when they received their last customer. Two other customers had bought some of the pelts. It was someone they knew, surrounded by three [Bodyguards] that wore their gambesons under traveling robes, their curved swords remained sheathed. Yet Cultrost sensed they were a cut above Yulvres and Graten’s men. This time, he did not constrict his hair with a cloth headband, but he let his cashew hair free to drape down his shoulders.
“Aryyad?”
“Friend!”
The foreign [Merchant] customarily kissed his cheek as a greeting, which shocked Numisley momentarily until he realized that it was one of the cultural idiosyncrasies foreign to him. Aryyad walked up to Cultrost and did the same, which Cultrost didn’t mind much.
“What winds bring you here?” Aryyad asked.
“I was going to ask the same thing,” Numisley asked.
“We’re here to withdraw from the bank,” Cultrost answered.
“I see.” Aryyad stroked his mustache. “The winds of trade called me north. I fear that the county capital of the Commerros has been…perilous lately.”
“True. We plan to move inland soon.” Numisley said.
“I shall scope out trading opportunities in the lands owned by the noble family known as the ‘Kaminors.’ You know about them?”
“Yes. I was looking for steel to buy and sell…but I’m afraid our venture was…”
“Unsuccessful.” Cultrost finished Numisley’s statement.
The last time Numisley and Cultrost went to Semsella, the Castellan tried to assassinate Numisley, and Cultrost fought the [Guards] in her castle. Numisley then tried to force a [Bloodbound Contract] on her, which Numisley knew failed when the Count embarrassed him in front of dozens of nobles.
Aryyad decided not to ask further since something caught his eye.
“What kind of manarine is that?” He pointed to the tiny rough crystal in Numisley’s wagon.
“Manarine? Oh, you mean this crystal.” Numisley answered.
“We got lucky. Yulvres–one of our [Mercenaries], had killed a Storm Elemental that was struck by lightning.” Cultrost said.
“Hmm…” Aryyad hummed. “I plan to commission a magical ring from a [Jeweler] I know in Kartorriani. Can I take a look?”
Numisley was surprised that Aryyad was heading to one of the three locations that Thewardn showed him in their search for their father’s stored riches.
“Sure, why not?”
Numisley let Aryyad get close to the wagon to see the crystal displayed on a cloth on a makeshift wooden tray. The foreign [Merchant] picked it up and felt the tips of his fingers tingle with static. Miniscule winding forks of lightning were trapped in a frozen moment of solid magic, a storm trapped within a wild crystal.
“I’ll buy it at your prices.” Aryyad offered as a gesture of goodwill. “I’ll not use [Advanced Bartering] or any Feats I have.”
“You have [Advance Bartering]?” Numisley asked with a hint of jealousy.
“Saves me a lot of money with a lot of stress.” Aryyad joked. Any Feat with the word “advanced” will inevitably be headhunted by other people or become influential themselves.
Aryyad paid twenty silver for the gem. This was a small price for a [Merchant] established as him.
“May the Goddess and her Chosen bless your ventures. If ever you claim your place among the local nobility, I shall support you.”
Aryyad left deeper within the city with his bodyguard. It was afternoon when they were finished, and they retired to a large inn where they managed to get some lodging. Half of them were left to sleep in the stables because of the limited rooms the inn had.
Despite being the 13th bell of the day (4 pm), Numisley and Cultrost agreed they must get the money from the bank as soon as possible. They asked Graten and the Human members of their mercenary band to escort them. Like in Dotterm from their home continent, they immediately saw the bank, a looming fortified stone box in the middle of the city’s wealthier districts.
It was not as decorated as Dotterm’s bank nor as expansive. As they were permitted to enter by the heavily armored, stoic [Guards] and the two stone golems that oversaw the entrance, they immediately went to the stone counter. They asked the [Receptionist] about their father’s account.
“Are you the son of Jascias Naveirei?” The middle-aged male [Receptionist] asked behind a grate of metal bars. His brows raised for a second at the mention of one of Torregorn’s great, holy Houses before reverting to his maintained neutral expression.
“Yes.”
The truth stone shone positively on the [Receptionist]’s table.
“Apologies, my lord.” The [Receptionist] apologized for his words as part of a routine. “This account has been rendered invalid by noble decree a week ago, and as such, its contents have been surrendered to the crown.”
Numisley’s knuckles turned white, but there was nothing they could do. The next day, Numisley and Cultrost met with Aryyad, and they asked to join their caravan en route to the city of Kartorriani, the next city marked on their map. The journey was quicker and safer than when they were burdened by the downpour on their way to Daqquiristo.
While Daqquiristo was a city known for its heritage, as one of the cities that used to be conquered by the Beastkin of the southern continent, Kartorriani, a semi-independent city ruled by a [Mayor], was famous for their gems and their [Jewelers].
Despite the city's beauty, whose buildings decided to build atop and around the less-valuable quartz outcroppings, Numisley can’t seem to appreciate the beauty of the place. His mind sunk deeper into discontentment as their father’s money was redistributed to the government by royal decree, despite Thewardn assuring them that the money was hidden.
Cultrost handed Numisley a stick of roasted cliff mussels harvested from the city’s nearby mountain, where they mine the crystals they export. He sat beside Numisley on the stone bench.
“I don’t feel like eating.” Numisley shooed away the stick.
“It’s better being full than being sad. Besides, the third time’s the charm. Aryyad told us that we can still come with him to Harpegío.” Cultrost reassured.
“I don’t want to bother him too much.”
“He insisted, my brother.”
“He shouldn’t have…” Numisley groaned. “I don’t want to be further in debt…”
“Not everyone is out to get us, you know.” Cultrost pushed the skewer closer to Numisley’s mouth. “Eat, before you think. You know you can’t think with an empty stomach.”
Numisley weakly grabbed the skewer and ate the shellfish meat.
-
Two days later, they left for Harpegío, a city past Semsella, near the border between the Margrave, the former Dukedom of the Gaviolos House. The same story happened. The money was legally pilfered by the crown authority from the bank a week before they had arrived.
Numisley decided to lie not and not move in the wagon.
“Get up.” Cultrost pulled his brother up.
“Nah.” Numisley returned to lie down on the wagon. “I’ll stand up when I feel like it.”
“As long as you stand up the next day. Aryyad is going to introduce us to his contacts, you know? I’ll go to your place if you don’t feel like it.”
“Pull me up and get my walking staff.”
Numisley and Cultrost went with Aryyad to the local Merchant’s Guild to join Aryyad in his networking. They were lucky to befriend him back in Ovespuerte. It had paid off after seeing the number of fellow [Merchants] Aryyad knew from around Torregorn, some of whom are Dwarven or Elven [Traders] from outside the kingdom. This took Numisley’s mind off their failure to acquire their father’s wealth.
The next day, Aryyad met with one of the Kaminorian nobility. Although they have nothing to sell, Numisley and Cultrost offered themselves and the [Mercenaries] to stay and guard Aryyad’s caravan of two wagons for a measly pay of two silvers. Instead, Aryyad paid them more than that and offered them to return with him to Ovespuerte since they had the same destination.
They journeyed back to Ovespuerte, passing by a couple of settlements, until they had reached Ascogres, where they left Yulvres and his men there, back to Racieros. Numisley and Cultrost helped Aryyad sell his wares alongside theirs. Days later, they arrived at Ovespuerte.
A throng of House’s Commerros’ [Knights] had Numisley and Cultrost restrained at the sight of many people lining towards the gates. Even Aryyad was unable to stop them being dragged away from their employees. Fighting the personal guard of the ruling noble house would inevitably lead to him being banned from the county altogether.
To at least help Numisley and Cultrost, he offered Graten and the others employment until he could free the Gildin Brothers.