A woman sat on a spacious sofa within the carriage. It was almost as wide as a decently-sized room despite the carriage's size from the outside. Even if the carriage was traveling at fast speeds, she didn't feel the rocking of the wagon: the benefits of dimensional magic and Feats of a [Luxury Carriage Master]. She pored through the many documents stacked on the low wooden table, lit by a floating [Light] Spell instead of a candle.
She read the reports from her informants within the vicinity of Dotterm. They informed that the Gildin brothers are now at the famed city-state, one of the farthest territories of the Temers. She realized that most gangs in the city were happily fed gold by Dotterm's Merchant's Guild and the stupidly wealthy Temer Corporation that owns the bank within the keep.
She needed competent people capable of doing her bidding without alerting anyone. That means the few [Pickpockets] and [Thugs] in Dotterm aren't eligible for her employment. If any hint of her activities within the city is revealed, she would need to deny it, and she would need to explain it to the rest of her Corporation. The Temers will eventually discover its existence, spending gold like water for specialists to retrieve it.
As she cycled through dossiers, she found a person she might hire.
-
"What do you mean? You gave him a secret from that brown book?" Numisley asked. He was irked because Cultrost told him that he helped their hired [Mercenary Captain] by successfully giving him a Martial Art in the morning.
"I just showed him that passage that may help him gain something. It was a gamble-"
"That's not the point, you numbskull! It's like you gave away platinum for free!" Numisley scolded his brother.
"You got his men killed because you aren't willing to surrender that notebook! This is the only way I could repay him." Cultrost barked back.
"They would kill us regardless because we knew that it exists." Numisley reminded him. "Might as well make a profit out of them until we become rich enough to afford actual [Bodyguards] or Golems."
"Actual [Bodyguards]? Do you hear how ungrateful you are, little brother? Half of the Severed Swords died to protect us, even if you paid them."
"Ese!" Palden interrupted their argument. "We got more important things to worry about! Cultrost, help with the grain sacks."
Their attention was distracted, halting their disagreement. The brothers grudgingly returned to their tasks. The caravan was already packing up after the [Mercenaries] had shared a stew cooked from solid soup, foraged berries and vegetables, and scraps of dried meat for breakfast.
"Graten." Numisley hobbled towards him. The [Sword Captain] placed a wooden chest on one of the three wagons with a thud as he stared at him. "A wick of your time."
"Yes?" Graten asked.
"My brother gave you a secret. What Feats were given to you by the voice of the world?"
"I unlocked an Epic Feat. My first one. Then, a Sword Art."
Cultrost still didn't believe his own words, but it had happened. It was like being given a Miracle. Numisley regained his composure after hearing that.
"You see, the method, the knowledge of how can you gain certain Feats and Roles is the other treasure that we hold, in the form of a book. So we have two important books that we need to protect."
"I see. I heard rumors of people who know of these; the richest [Merchants] and powerful [Generals]. The nobility too..."
"I can empower you with my knowledge, Commander Graten. Make you powerful. But I need your help."
Graten hesitated for a moment, but his mouth spoke sooner than anticipated.
"Whatever it takes to let them not die in vain."
Numisley took it as a yes. Graten anticipated what might happen in the future.
"Now, show me the Weapon Art my naïve brother gave you."
Graten moved to a safe distance among the trees, beside a boulder embedded in the ground.
[Moontear Blade: Crescent Cut]. The silver blade of flowing tears had almost cut the boulder in half in a wet silver arc. The cut was unlike anything they had ever seen. Instead of a clean cut, it was impossibly wide for a sword slash. Irregular too, as if acid was poured on the blade. Graten met a [Blademaster] once, but his blade cut nothing like this.
Numisley inspected the cut on the stone and was impressed. It was a wide slash greater than six feet in length and a few inches wide; more the enough to defeat a handful of enemies in one fell swoop.
"I guess this will be useful." Numisley sighed.
Cultrost approached the two after he finished helping the others. He saw the aftermath of Graten's Sword Art and was silently impressed.
"If you're going to give away information, inform me first." Numisley scolded Cultrost.
-
With no interruptions, they had already left the vicinity of the Overthere Hills. The caravan passed through a road among aged and worn ruins caked in lichen, where a fortress once stood surrounded by trees.
Hours later, they saw the city of Dotterm. The city-state was once a hill-fort during the Colonization Wars of Libertalia. It was renovated into a castle as a gift to an [Duke]'s daughter, hence the name. Throughout centuries, it prospered into a dauntless city-state and was bought by the richest of the Five, the Temers.
The city of around 98,000 people is elevated for it is built over centuries-old towering stone-reinforced earthen ramparts. Stone battlements and enchanted low stone towers were guarded by its Watch. The citadel itself was built over the ruins of the old castle; what was left was only the well-maintained keep on the hill.
Numisley eyed the house-size stones that made up its revetments as the caravan stopped in front of the stone ramp. The hired Watch on the gates inspected every nook and cranny of their wagons. They meticulously interrogated their intentions, with the large flat stones etched with a magical circle that cast green light imbued with [Zone of Truth] that shone upon the caravan.
Earlier, they saw someone glowing red because he lied, revealing that he was a criminal. That is why none of them attempted to lie at the checkpoint. They stated the truth: they are here to conduct business on behalf of Gildin Trading and withdraw money from their account. They reported that they were attacked by [Bandits]; technically correct because they do not know who exactly attacked them; the line between [Bandit] and [Mercenary] becomes blurred at times.
All of them entered once they had shown their identifying documents. Although some of the [Mercenaries] had been to a city or two, none had seen Dotterm's prosperity.
The buildings had colorful brickwork and even some made of marble; many of them with stepped gable facades and elaborate entablatures supported by decorative pilasters. Instead of shutters, the smaller buildings possess glass windows and security bars. Vast plazas and rows of trees dominated the cityscape, with bazaars filled with many [Merchants] and goods.
The center of the vast metropolis was the towering square multitiered keep where the rest of the castle and the city were built around. The keep's pristine and smooth facade is visible even from here.
They parked their wagons within a space in one of the bazaars where one can temporarily store their goods for a price. The Severed Swords and Palvt were tasked to find lodging within the city and buy supplies as Palden, Numisley, and Cultrost headed to the Bank of Dotterm. The Bank of Dotterm is the keep, or rather, where both Dotterm's Bank, with its local Merchant's Guild and its City Council, is seated.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
They needed to traverse two successive levels in the city through the main sloped stone roads before they were in front of the place itself. The tiers were divided by its ancient earthen ramparts that were part of Dotterm Hill. They looked up at the pristine white keep, with its smooth walls bearing no windows except the runes that give the keep magical images of the outside. The city's green and blue flags and the banner of the Temer Corporation flutter together on the four sides of the keep. Before they were allowed entry, they were required to pass another truth-stone test. Meticulous questions about their intentions were asked by a [Secretary] who asked them to stand on a [Zone of Truth], monitored by a [Mage] standing guard.
They entered the towering keep after they passed the test. The interior was a sprawling marble and granite hall with a vaulted ceiling, more expansive than what it appears from the outside. It seems like this was a throne room or a banquet hall that was converted into a reception area for the Merchants' Guild.
Outside of the granite and lacquered wooden reception desks with the width of the entire hall, divided by wooden partitions per [Clerk]. Clients lounged in individual sections of sofas and tables with [Waiters] and [Waitresses] rushing to and fro to serve their food and drink. The wide symmetrical stairways that lead to the mezzanine sat between the entrances of the reception hall. The mezzanines had expensive lounges and private rooms for the richest of [Merchants] and other clients.
"Numisley Gildin, on behalf of Gildin Trading and proprietor Jascias Gildin, our late father. I'm here to withdraw his account and re-authenticate documents regarding the ownership of Gildin Trading: for inheriting all of his assets." Numisley put his hand on the truth-stone tablet embedded on the counter, accompanied by Palvt and Cultrost.
The old female [Clerk] adjusted her monocle. She read the will and the rest of the documents, which had little to no discrepancies.
"What is the current status of Jascias Gildin?" Her sharp eyes peered through Numisley's intentions.
"Most likely dead. Our manor was attacked by [Bandits]."
The smooth tablet under Numisley's palm glowed green.
"Who was with you at that event?"
"I, and our [Caravan Master], Palden."
"Is the information that he had given correct?" She asked Cultrost and Palden.
" Yes." Palden and Cultrost chorused.
A few more questions were answered. Their documents were verified before the whole process was finished.
"Please take a seat at table forty-five. A [Notary] will be attending to you shortly. The account withdrawal can be conducted once the transfer of ownership is verified."
They sat on a velvet sofa around a circular table. The three bought snacks and drinks from the menu the [Waiter] offered them. Palden greedily chomped on the fried bits of bacon on fried bread. Cultrost drank a brass cup of wine. A neatly dressed Satyr with skin the color of dark moss interrupted them. At a glance, Numisley was impressed by the dark, pressed suit that the Satyr wore.
"I'm Tyroln Ikayee, Settled Satyr. No tribal affiliation. I'm an official [Notary] of the Bank of Dotterm, here to assist with the transfer of ownership of the remaining assets of Gildin Trading."
He stiffly sat on the sofa between Numisley and his two companions on the opposite end, reading Jascias' will that legitimizes them as owners of Gildin Trading. The Satyr with a specific Role, like Cultrost, was born in the Human-dominated towns and cities and faced discrimination from the "tribal" Satyrs that roam the wastes, hence his odd introduction.
Jascias and Cultrost read the will meticulously with no objections to its terms.
"To briefly repeat the contents of the will, Numisley Gildin and Cultrost Gildin will inherit the authority over the remaining assets of Gildin Trading. They are allowed to have employees. Both brothers will have an equal share of the income generated by their assets. They will be allowed to withdraw and deposit money, as well to be able to exchange currency, buy goods in bulk, and conduct trade within the guild-owned establishments. This will be recognized by all affiliated branches of the Cemoorstead Merchant's Guild, the Bank of Dotterm, and by extension, the Temer Corporation, and affiliates. Any objections?" The [Notary] dictated the essence of Jascias' will among the portfolio of documents that he left them with.
"No objections." Numisley agreed.
"Yep." His sibling added.
Two seals with the Gildin Trading's emblem were given to them. They stamped on the space at the bottom of the documents.
Now allowed to withdraw coins from their father's account, they had paid the fee for withdrawal. They were given a Bag of Holding that contained their withdrawal of two hundred fifty gold coins. Their father had a shocking amount on the account: over a thousand gold on this account alone; enough to buy a town or two in Libertalia. Withdrawing the total amount will run the risk of being a target for every [Thief], [Thug], and their [Gang Bosses] even if they have a guard of fifteen or so [Mercenaries].
They also sent their employees money to the families of the Severed Swords since they provide this service. They walked back to the inn: where the rest of the entourage would stay for the night.
Fortunately, the presence of the local Watch is prevalent here, made out of retired experienced [Soldiers] and [Mercenaries] that gained Feats from the constant wars in the continent. Palden stared at the patrol of [Guardsmen], armored with brigandine or even chainmail instead of gambesons, guessing that the Watch here was better than anywhere.
They were fetched by a young Dwarven man. One of the Severed Swords. They were led towards the large three-story building of white stone brick, with the colored birch-wood sign that reads: Whitecastle Inn. The mock turrets of the inn are fitting enough for the name, making it resemble a castle.
The inn was spacious compared to its exterior as if expanded by dimension magic. There are twenty large tables, three-fourths occupied by many men and women. They guessed that the [Innkeeper] had some sort of [Expanded Space] Feat or something similar. There is one single wide stairway south of the hall, giving access to the mezzanine and the second floor. Numisley approached the weathered [Innkeeper] with long white hair on the wide wooden counter.
"Here's the rest of the payment. Apologies for the delay." Numisley handed him three gold coins.
"Long day 'eh? Can tell that y'all came from the bank." The [Innkeeper] spoke with a gruff voice. His scarred arms like gauntlets and barreled chest suggested that he was more than just an [Innkeeper], if not from the heavy maul hanging behind him in front of the kitchen. "No need to worry about debts. We get all sorts of [Merchants] and [Mercenary Captains] 'round here, so I got a lot of debt to collect."
Numisley turned towards the young Dwarven man beside Cultrost after he paid the lodging in the inn.
"Give this to your [Captain]. Tell him I need to tell him something in my room." Numisley handed him the pouch of fifty gold coins.
The Dwarf rushed past two women with weapons and climbed the stairs. Numisley retreated to his room and studied one entry from the brown book, determining what can he do to empower himself using its knowledge.
Later that afternoon, Numisley fed them all a proper meal. The [Innkeeper]'s Feats were specialized in serving a large number of people, and in no time, they were fed with smoked brisket and rye, with cups of broth and wine.
"Congratulations on another day. Feel free to enjoy yourselves in the city tonight. On the name of Armalithi, Biosnium, and the rest of the gods, we feast!" Numisley announced before they feasted.
Although Cultrost knows that his brother can lead, he is surprised that he can capture the attention of fifteen strangers who barely know him. They ate and chatted happily, grateful to live another day and toasting in the name of their fallen comrades.The fifteen remaining [Mercenaries] of the Severed Swords headed to taverns with better drinks and brothels with their salaries in tow. Some of the veterans are content with a bed slept in Whitecastle Inn.
Graten sat with Numisley in his room, a table with a bowl, a quill, and a dagger between them. Cultrost stood guard besides Numisley, having been informed of his plan.
"Graten, are you familiar with the concept of a blood compact?"
"Heard of it. A symbol of brotherhood."
Numisley took the dagger from the table to Graten's surprise. He slit his wrists and let the blood drip on the wooden bowl. Cultrost wrapped cloth around Numisley's bloodied arm as Numisley drew up a contract.
"This is a contract that you will serve under me. Until we escape from Libertalia due to...unfavorable elements. I aim for the lands of Yhril, to rebuild Gildin Trading anew."
"Why the blood?"
"I want to establish a bond with this contract. The contract shall be bound by both of our blood...symbolically. If you follow me, I will empower you with my knowledge."
Graten knew that Numisley will remake him with his knowledge of Feats and Roles. Turn him into someone stronger. So the deaths of his men and women will not be in vain. He had never encountered an employer willing to give him knowledge along with money.
"I accept."
Graten slit his arm and let the blood drip on the bowl. Numisley, with the intent of sealing the contract, wrote the signature in their blood. As Graten slept after that, something bound his being to an agreement made in blood. Numisley heard the voice that governs the world, staring at the strange crest on his hand.
[Role Played, Trader]!
[Unlocked Epic Feat - Bloodbound Contract, obtained.]
[Role Played, Information Broker]!