005 - GET THEM TO SIGN ON THE LINE THAT IS DOTTED

It was hours later that Conrad found himself stumbling out of the bar. It was deep night and though the streets were never empty in The Down, activity had lessened somewhat. Even vendors and alcoholics had to sleep at some point. The few people left were mostly adventurers, an odd motley of late returns from the dungeon and late exits from bars, and Conrad thought dimly through his boozy haze that, as soon as tomorrow, he might be leaving the second group to join the first.

It was exhilarating to consider, though still frustrating he hadn't been able to pin Buck or Karina down into an exact deal. To his credit, he had tried, but at every turn, he was met with plain ignorance: "Dunno" "Who keeps track of prices like that?" "Who knows what the cost'll be tomorrow? I don't even know what the inn costs tonight!”

Adventurers weren't known for an abundance of business sense, and Conrad knew of more than a few who got themselves into debt or worse simply by not understanding how to keep a tally of their expenses. But still, he had gotten them to agree to put it all off until the morning when they were sober. So the deal wasn’t closed, but at least he hadn’t agreed to any terms he’d think differently on after some rest.

If he were trying to sell an item rather than himself, he'd immediately search for another buyer, but tonight, the only thing he was seeking was a soft bed to sleep off the evening.

Seekers. That was what they called their band, come to think of it. The Seekers, so named for what Buck said was their desire “to seek greater and greater wealth.” It seemed like a silly reason but, at the same time, the name had a ring to it that Conrad liked.

A Seeker.

“Conrad Dren,” he muttered under his breath as he headed toward the lit entrance of a nearby Inn that catered to NPCs, “Merchant of the Seekers.”

“Merchant? In a band? NPCs aren’t adventurers!” he mocked, playing both parts of his imagined conversation, and replied to himself, "Merchant, Warrior, Mage - One loses track when you've been in this business long enough."

He chuckled, but wondered about it; what would his first combat class be? His prospective bandmates had long since left their tier-one classes behind but everybody had started somewhere. Buck was a Pyromancer, a magic user specializing in fire. The bigger man, Joy, was a Heavy Trooper, a class for defense and tanking damage, and Karina was a Berserker. He'd seen her in action and had assumed correctly that she was a damage dealer and a wildcard.

They were a tight-knit group. Joy was Buck's older brother, but as Conrad had surmised when first meeting the man, he was a simpleton under Buck's care. And Karina, how they met her hadn't been covered exactly but she and Buck were as close as siblings. The charms that Conrad, and many others, found so appealing had no effect on Buck who remarked at Conrad's curiosity only that there was, "Plenty around to eat without becoming a cannibal."

The Seekers were far from famous - in Edge they were completely unknown - but if experience was any measure, a group of adventurers who had surpassed their tier-one classes was not without their share of success. Renown was something altogether different from raw ability, and Conrad had seen plenty of accomplished men and women whose names he had never heard of and couldn't remember. With him on the roster though? Maybe his grandfather was right and this was the opportunity he was born for. Adventuring. Not the stuffy, danger-averse life of a shopkeeper.

Imagining himself in the bunch, it seemed like a better fit for the group would be somebody more agile, or somebody with ranged weapons. He nudged his sword in its scabbard. Who knew though? He didn’t have an eye for these things but it just might be they could train him into exactly that role. As a Merchant with a fair bit of XP banked up, in terms of combat classes he was a sort of blank slate.

Mind too preoccupied to pay much attention, he checked into the inn for a single night and soon found himself in bed, mind, and vision still spinning with fantasy and excess alcohol. He looked over his stats:

Conrad Dren

Race: Human

Level: 5

Class(s): Merchant

Stats:

Agility: 6

Dexterity: 13

Endurance: 8

Intelligence: 22

Strength: 9

As a non-combat class, he wasn't doing half bad and the extra strength and endurance he had gained on the hike from the homestead looked good alongside his other stats. As he drifted off, he thought that in a couple of weeks, he'd be looking back on this moment. Seeing these modest stats from the heights he would gain would make even his small pride now seem like hubris in hindsight.

A couple hours before noon the following day he stood outside the tavern where he had left the other members of the Seekers, sober now, and realizing he hadn’t bothered to nail Buck or Karina down to a specific time to meet. “We’ll be around after breakfast” was all they had said.

The doorman had waved Conrad away before he even got close, so since he was unwelcome without one of the Seekers, Conrad had been milling around looking for a sight of the band through the windows. He had his gear stored in a backpack, not wanting to appear too eager to sign the deal or too presumptuous in the daylight where his inexperience would be more obvious to passing adventurers.

After nearly an hour of pacing, he decided a better way to wait would be over a cup of weak-stamina potion that most people in Edge called "coffee." He settled into a small establishment across the street and took a seat at an open window to keep watch.

It was around noon that he was startled by a sudden shout from the street.

“Oi! Swindler’s son!” Karina called.

Seeing who it was, Conrad waved while muttering, “You didn’t have to take the deal…” and got up to go meet with Karina.

The other two members of the Seekers joined them, and though they had spent the night drinking all three of them looked sharp and ready to go. They were wearing their armor, stiff leather now with metal plates in key vulnerable points for Joy, and the same supple, well-crafted but lighter set for Buck that he had been wearing the night before. Karina was looking strikingly feminine in her new molded armor, hair visible above her hachigane in a semi-functional up-do tied with the ribbons and baubles she had bought from Conrad's shop.

“You look ready to go already,” Conrad said to the group by way of greeting, “Don’t we need to take care of a few things before we get going?”

Buck produced a rolled-up parchment and waggled it at him, "Already done! Thought we'd save the trouble."

Conrad kept his expression neutral. He had been waiting for hours, had been awake for hours still longer, and would gladly have spent the time with them on the errands… but, no, that was ungenerous. He hadn’t set an explicit time and had agreed to the more fluid plans the Seekers had offered. He could have spent the time going around the guild and talking with adventurers and Contractors about what prices and language to expect from a contract. But he hadn’t. That was on him.

Maybe his new bandmates were trying to do him a favor and it was just mismatched expectations that chafed Conrad.

He shoved aside all these thoughts and put on a smile, holding out his hand to take the parchment.

“What did all these errands end up costing you?” Conrad asked, hoping to appear eager to pull his weight and compensate them immediately.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Joy giggled stupidly and said, “Buncha gold.”

Buck and Karina chuckled at Joy and Buck said, “That’s about the shape of it, too right, Joy.”

Conrad faked a laugh along with them as he scanned the front page of the contract, then added, “But seriously, what do I owe you?”

I, _____ (signature), do hereby commit to the agreement and magical binding nature of this contract, effective for each dungeon run, whose nature and composition are described below…

“Not sure,” Karina said, “We don’t think much in terms of exact amounts, more like whose turn it is to pay - that was your turn wasn’t it, Buck?”

“Sure,” said Buck, “Not sure though, must have cost about ten or fifteen gold, all told.”

Conrad stopped reading and looked up without humor, “Ten or fifteen? Are you serious?”

“All told, yeah,” Buck said.

Shaking his head, Conrad set in, “No, no that is way too much. Do you have a receipt?”

The three Seekers looked at each other, perplexed.

Karina sighed and took on a patient look as she explained, "Hun, that's just not how it's done out here."

"What do you mean out here?" Conrad said, "I'm from a homestead, that's out there and we do receipts.”

But even as he said it he realized he was being unfair. It was true that he did sometimes write receipts, but it was only for bulk purchases, purchase agreements, or big-ticket items in the neighborhood of hundreds of gold. For casual purchases, even when offered, adventurers tended to refuse additional paperwork, even if writing up the receipt - a process that had to be done by hand - was only the work of a few minutes.

The Seekers were still just staring at him, looks of incredulity now coupled with crossed arms. Not a good sign, but ten to fifteen gold for a contract felt like extortion. If he was going to be valuable to this group, now was as good a time as any to start.

“Look, let’s just go back to the vendor and get the price from him. I think the number is off somehow, or you got swindled or -”

“Swindled!” Karina scoffed, “If that ain’t the pot calling the kettle black!”

“Look, let me help. This is where I’m useful right now, you don’t just have to accept whatever deal is presented at face value, we can talk over the terms, agree on different prices, we can-”

Rolling his eyes Buck started tugging on his companions to pull them away from Conrad, “The Merchant wants to teach us that dealing is a thing. Wants us to discover negotiation like we never heard the word! I told you this wasn’t a good idea, Karina, a swindler’s gonna swindle and we went and did this favor, taking care of all these fees out of our own pockets!”

Conrad screwed up his face in confusion but Buck just carried right on, “Go get your prices, Merchant,” he said, emphasizing the last word and making it sound like an insult, “Then fuck off. You can pay us back if you see us - and probably pocket the difference calling it charity - when we get back. Plenty of fresh talent hanging around the dungeon waiting for an experienced band to take them on. Some better than fresh!”

Karina pulled Buck's hand off her and put up a staying hand, "Hold the hell on, Buck, Conrad just isn't seeing the full picture, okay? Listen," she stepped in close, and like they were co-conspirators pulling something over on the other two men, she lowered her voice to explain to Conrad, "Bands are about trust. We don't talk over who paid what and how much - just makes for arguing, you can see that, can't you? Buck's sensitive about this kind of thing, you can't get all high and mighty with these skills even if you have 'em. Makes a man like Buck feel small, especially when he's trying to do you a favor."

That was… a good point. Conrad hadn’t thought of the fact that, as a subordinate, and only a potential subordinate at that, his criticisms or even well-intended advice might appear like an attempt to undermine authority or assume status where he had none. It was a negotiating blunder that he wouldn't recover from by insisting and bullying, even if he was right.

The only way forward was to eat the loss or to give up the opportunity.

He sighed. Ten or fifteen gold was more than he wanted to pay, but maybe he could get the rates after a raid or two, find the Contractor who had sold the contract, and get some of it back without even involving Buck. It was only a little money, after all.

“We can worry about this another time,” Conrad said.

“See Buck?” Karina said, “No need to waste time looking for somebody else. Conrad’s still our man!”

Buck sighed and made a show of looking at the sun to check the time, “Can we get going then? He sign it?”

“I need a minute to finish reading it over,” Conrad said, and seeing the expected eye roll from Buck but no further protest, he did. Before he started though, he noticed a frayed piece of a second sheet of paper on the corner. The whole contract was double thick with the second sheet stuck to the back.

“What is this? Something’s up with this paper,” Conrad said holding up the fraying corner and gently pulling the two pieces apart.

But before he got any further than a quarter inch Buck spoke up, “Hey, Hey! Stop it, Mr. Needs a Receipt. That’s exactly what that is. Contractor explained it. New type of paper lets you sign one and imprints the contract and the signature onto a second - so he doesn’t have to write up two contracts. We keep one, you keep the other.”

That was actually… a very smart little innovation. For him, writing receipts of a single purchase or purchase order might take a couple of minutes, but to laboriously copy out an entire contract to provide two copies could be the kind of work that made the difference of hours over a day to a Contractor. And those hours could be spent writing more contracts, getting rid of additional scribes, etcetera. The savings would be huge.

“Huh,” he said out loud, “That’s a good idea.”

“That look,” Buck said, “that’s the same look he had when he explained it.”

"Might have to get a few sheaves for myself," Conrad added, as he read on.

Compensation to be delivered as assisted progression, training, and means both named and unnamed provided through advantage of band inclusion. All material, treasure, items, and equipment of an existential nature to be shared at the discretion of party leaders.

He stopped and looked up again.

Karina sighed and Buck threw up his hands. Joy, seeing his brother’s reaction, did the same thing.

“What is it now?” Karina asked, immediately sliding back into the role of advocate and negotiator between Buck and Conrad.

“I’ll be working for free?” Conrad asked.

Karina smiled, “You’re a probationary member, Conrad. You’re not one of the band, not yet, and not even if you sign the contract. These things exist to help us trust one another, but with how much of your weight we’re going to have to pull in every fight, this is just one more way for you to earn our trust and pay back what we will - and have - already invested in you. Does that make sense?”

“Look, Karina,” Conrad said, trying hard to pitch his voice low so that Buck wouldn’t interject, “I don’t know if I’m comfortable signing a contract that says I’m not getting paid anything.”

“Look, Conrad,” Karina said, tone patronizing as she imitated his speech pattern back to him, “I’m not a Contractor, but even I can see it doesn’t say that. Says material compensation is up to band leaders - that’s me and Buck - it doesn’t say you get nothing.”

Conrad almost forgot his desire to go with this band entirely as his voice rose inadvertently, “That’s a technicality!”

Karina’s smile disappeared and for a moment a look of enraged disappointment, well beyond what Conrad would have expected for the situation flashed across her face. Then it was gone.

She snatched the contract out of his hands, “Then don’t sign it.”

Buck nodded approvingly, “We done then? You better find us later and pay your debt, Merchant.”

They started walking away, chattering among themselves.

Conrad watched them with the voices of his grandfather and mother debating in his head.

“Experienced hands don’t have time to mentor a new person, Bridgitte, this is an opportunity worth much more than whatever he’ll pull out in a couple of runs,” his grandfather said.

“We work for gold," his mother countered, "never work for free. That's the surest way to find the cheats and well-intentioned incompetents!"

“With the help of a more experienced band, Conrad could improve in a few runs what it might take months to do on his own. We know already the group has skills. The reward outweighs the risk!”

That settled it. Good sense or no, it was his mother’s advice that had kept him where he was for so long. His grandfather’s words from the other day echoed in his mind telling him just before his first kill, “It’s men who shape the world.” And that was what Conrad intended to do.

“Wait!’ Conrad called out to the Seekers. Karina turned to look at him but the others kept walking.

The contract was open-ended and terminated at will. He could leave if he wanted to. It was just while he was in the dungeon that the magic of the contract would affect him.

If things didn’t work out, he reasoned, and if of the two voices arguing in his head his mother’s ended up being the right one, then he’d cut his losses, finish his errands, and head home.

“Give it here,” Conrad said, “I’ll sign it.”

Karina smiled. Buck stopped in his tracks and glanced over his shoulder, a look of surprise and eagerness poorly concealed.

Maybe he wanted Conrad on board more than he had let on? Karina handed Conrad the contract and an old but serviceable fountain pen. Conrad wrote out Conrad Dren on the dotted line on the last page and immediately felt a minor magical tingle run through him beginning with his signing hand. Then a second shiver, stronger, but similar to the first. He shook it off, not wanting to show any loss of composure over a simple magical binding.

Karina winked at him as she split the special paper into two copies, handing him the top layer, “Welcome aboard, Seeker.”