Chapter Eighteen

**Wilhelm Rock**

Day Seven

Jason woke early the next day. His body was beginning to get used to waking before dawn. He was just happy that he was adapting without the help of an alarm clock. Vanna on the other hand, even after being in the game for months still needed help waking up. I thought old people woke up at like 4 A.M. every morning, Jason thought to himself as he shook her shoulder. The warrior flinched slightly, but didn’t lash out at Jason this time. “Come on time to go,” Jason said.

That morning they took the time to make their coffee before they left and Vanna was awake and alarm by the time they went to the stable to get Skippy. Jule was up feeding her hens and they waved goodbye to her as they headed towards Jon’s storage barn. A good amount of the villagers were already up and heading to work even though the sun hadn’t yet risen in full force.

Jason didn’t want to overload Skippy so he only bought six extra bags of wool on top of the one Jon owed him for a total of seven. This time Jason was able to haggle the price down to 19 and a half coppers a bag; he wasn’t sure if it was due to his bartering skill or Jon’s growing trust in Jason’s reliability. Either way, the companions were out of the town as the sun finally broke the wooded horizon and heading towards the forest.

Walking through the forest still struck fear into Jason. The stagnant leaves and eerie silence lingered as if hiding another surprise attack. Only when the sun replaced the leaves above was Jason at ease again. All the walking he had done in the last few days was starting to take a toll on Jason’s legs. His legs were growing taunt and strong, but every step felt like his calves were guitars string being wound tighter. “We really need some horses,” Jason moaned.

“You got that right Honey,” Vanna replied.

Jason was tiring of the salty jerky that had sustained him for the last few trips and decided to buy some fish from one of the river fishermen when they stopped for lunch. He never ate a whole fish before but Vanna showed him how.

“My husband and I took camping trips with our kids and would fish on the Cumberland River. We’d roast whatever we caught over the fire at night. Take small bites and chew slow so you can pick out the bones,” Vanna instructed. The blackened trout was so tasty Jason didn’t want to slow down to pick out the bones, but the slow chewing let him take in all the smoky and blackened flavors of the fish.

Once they arrived in Laxtar, Jason and Vanna didn’t waste time and headed straight for the wool market. The smell of fish scales and briny sea foam smacked Jason’s nose again but he was getting used to the smell. Many of the same traders stood around the wood pavilion pit and the prices were again spread wide. Jason headed straight to the clerk to trade in his wool.

“I’d like to trade in seven bags of wool,” Jason told the clerk.

The woman made a sympathetic face then said, “sorry sir, but nonmembers are only allowed to deposit five units per day at the normal holding fee of a quarter copper per unit.”

“What?” Jason exclaimed in confusion, what was he going to do with the extra two bags. He wasn’t going to wait until the market opened tomorrow to sell just two bags and have to wait until the following day to return to Finchead.

“Sorry sir, this is to prevent market manipulation by nonmembers. You may pay a premium charge of 2 coppers for up to an additional five bags a day however.”

“How do I become a member? Wait what is this organization even called?” Jason sputtered red faced. He used to hate it when suppliers would try to strong arm him into paying arbitrary extra fees when he was buying supplies for his restaurants.

“The wool market is run by the Wool Merchants of Laxtar Guild and you must speak to a member about joining. I am sorry but I can not offer any assistance besides that,” the guard besides the woman shuffled his footing and weighed his hand harder on his sheathed sword causing the blade to let out a brassy groan. “If you would like to deposit all of your wool today it will be 5 and a quarter coppers,” the woman announced coyly.

Jason grumbled showing his dissatisfaction. He knew it wasn’t the clerks fault that he was paying the extra fees but Jason still felt this game made everything just a little too difficult. He jabbed his hand into his money pouch and placed the coins on the counter. The woman smiled and wrote out his coupons while an attendant unloaded the wool from Skippy’s carts.

Jason took his coupons and left the clerk without another word. At the entrance to the trading pit Jason turned to Vanna and asked, “do you want to head to the inn and get our room and get Skippy stabled? You can do what ever you want around town and we can just meet back up at the inn before night fall.” They had made good timing on their trip and arrived in the city with still at least two or three hours of sunlight remaining.

“Sounds good to me as long as you don’t need me, Honey,” Vanna replied.

“I should be fine,” Jason said then handed her Skippy’s reigns and 5 coppers for their room and they parted.

Jason entered the pit and scanned the book. The highest bid was 33 coppers, lower than last time Jason was there and the best ask was 35 coppers. Jason remembered he was able to sell his four bags for 34 and a half two days ago.

“Bidding 34 for fifty,” a tall thin haired man called out. A moment before a young boy had ran into the pit and whispered something into his ear. The bookkeeper quickly scribbled the new order onto the book but before he was done another trader was already calling out, “hit for 30.” The bookkeeper wrote the remaining quantity of the first traders order now as twenty. Jason was about to hit the order for his own seven but he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. Jason turned and saw it was the richly robed merchant who bought his wool two days ago.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The man’s peachy aged face was strangely trusting. Jason stayed quiet and waited. Other informants came into the pit to talk to the other traders and the price slowly grew over the next few minutes until bidding calmed again with a new best bid of 37 coppers per wool. Jason hit the order and a thrill of victory went through his body. He went to the buyer and traded his coupons for his first ever gold coin as well as two silvers and nineteen coppers. The earlier upset due to the fees was now long forgotten.

Jason looked around for the richly dressed merchant and found him waiting by the pit exit. Jason walked over to him and cried still high off his amazing gains, “I guess I should thank you?” Jason reached out a hand hoping to get a name in return.

“The name is Wilhelm Rock,” the man said with a smooth smile.

Jason shook Wilhelm’s hand and introduced himself. “How did you know the price was about to go up and why didn’t you make any orders?”

“A galley carrying two thousand bags of wool crashed over the Hanwell islands, news just came in about it. Everyone is going to try and be the first to send a shipment that way to take advantage of the short shortage,” Wilhelm laughed at his own joke then continued, “but I got the news an hour ago and already have a ship heading there.” He winked then sighed, “as to your second question if you’d like to join me for an evening aperitif I’m sure we have lots we can learn from each other.”

“Um sure, I think I have some time,” Jason said.

“Wonderful, I know a lounge that has the most excellent whiskey,” Wilhelm said then turned to lead Jason out of the pit.

The Port of Laxtar was a place of work, but worked by many classes of people. The greenhorn sailors and richest merchants all walked the same muddy streets, unlike in the city proper where the classes were separated. However, the port still segregated itself Jason learned when he entered Wilhelm’s “lounge”. Wilhelm led him to a large two story brick building, the first brick building Jason saw in the port. The building stood in the center off all the commodity markets and that seemed to be intentional. Finely detailed carpets laid over dark stained hardwood greeted them in the entry to the lounge. A host greeted Wilhelm by name and bowed to Jason then led them to what seemed was a reserved table on the first floor.

They walked down a long hallway with many doors leading to small rooms with single tables. Half of the rooms were occupied with other richly dressed merchants, some in hot discussion with their company trying to broker a deal while others relaxed and read books or reports while drinking and eating small plates.

The host gestured to the room at the end of the hall. The room was larger than any of the others they had past, but still only about the size of the average bedroom. One wall was composed entirely of misty windows that overlooked the pier and the scores of docked ships. Intricate oil painting lined the walls and a well-stocked bar sat against one wall. The room was too personalized to just be a room in a restaurant and Jason wondered if the room was exclusively Wilhelm’s.

“May I make either of you a drink; Mr. Rock, sir?” The host asked, nodding at each of them in turn.

Wilhelm waved a hand, “we’ve got it, but would you please bring us a few small plates, preferably soup. Thank you, Fredrick.”

The host, Fredrick, bowed and left the room. Wilhelm gestured at the table for Jason to sit and the old merchant grabbed two glasses and started to pour whiskey into each. Jason sat down and stared at the pier. Ships the size of whales bobbed slowly in the calm water, thousands of sailors rushed about cleaning, loading, and attending to a thousand other tasks.

Wilhelm set a glass in front of Jason and then extended his own for a toast. Jason picked up his glass and they clinked their cups. Wilhelm downed his drink and Jason followed suit. The amber liquid burned his throat but it left his stomach feeling warm and a lingering taste of molasses in his mouth. “That’s good stuff,” Jason said, he was about to ask if it was Scotch or Irish but stopped when he realized Wilhelm wouldn’t know what he was talking about.

“Aye, those Nors are still wild savages but they can make a damn fine whiskey.” Wilhelm grabbed the crystal decanter and refilled each of their glasses. “To answer your question from earlier, I don’t sell my wool in Laxtar, I buy it.” He waved at the ships in the port, “I buy it cheap here and ship it everywhere else and sell it high there.” He chuckled and took a sip. “There are a lot of different people in the wool market, a lot are buyers like me shipping it elsewhere, but there are also those who buy it to full it, or dye it. Then there are all the sellers, most have got the monopoly on all the sheep raising villages a days trip from here. Which is why I’m interested as to how you’re selling.”

“I buy my wool in Finchead, through the forest to the east,” Jason answered.

Wilhelm furrowed his eye brows, “but Finchead is closer to Exton.”

Jason explained the feud between Finchead and Fallows and the dangers of going through the angry town that guarded the bridge to Exton.

Wilhelm concentrated on every detail as Jason told the story, and when Jason was finally done he commented, “I’m going to have to talk to my contacts in the court but that seems to put Finchead into Laxtar’s sphere of influence now. I assume that you’re going to continue trying to sell Finchead wool in Laxtar?” Wilhelm asked.

“That’s my plan, but…”

“The guild hit you up on it’s fees,” Wilhelm said with a smile. “Yes, I know all about the uncouth habits of my organization.” Jason’s face lit up with anger but then Wilhelm cried, “no you have it wrong, I’m for new members and I personally don’t approve of the fees.”

At that moment the host returned to the room with a large cover plate. He set the plate on the table and removed the cover to reveal two bowls of steaming white chowder and a basket of bread. He set a bowl in front of Wilhelm and Jason then left the room.

“As I was saying,” Wilhelm started, “I am very much for new members. My desires are for large quantities of cheap wool and more sellers helps that goal.”

Jason ladled some of the soup into his spoon and saw the milky broth also contained bits of oysters and clams. He blew on the spoon then asked, “so what you’re saying is you want to help get me into the guild?”

Wilhelm rolled his head around slowly then answered, “what I’m saying is that I like to sponsor new members. We don’t get many new ones besides relatives of current members so you are a sort of disruption. I’m guessing you're still a peddler though.”

Jason nodded his head.

“That’s alright, but know there won’t be much time before the other members find out about Finchead. So I’d recommend you rank up fast and lock some kind of contract with the town. Here,” Wilhelm said then a notification appeared before Jason.

New Quest: Joining the Wool Merchants of Laxtar Guild Part I

Wilhelm Rock, a high ranking member in the Wool Merchants of Laxtar Guild has offered to sponsor your admission into the guild. Return to him once you have achieved the remaining requirement to join the guild: Class = Trade (Tier I), Trade Agreement with the Town of Finchead.

Reward: 750 Exp. and Rock’s sponsorship

“You can find me at 17 High street when you get the trader class and that trade agreement,” Wilhelm said.

Jason stood up, he figured their meeting was coming to an end, “thank you very much for your help.”

Wilhelm smiled this time his face void of comfort, “I only help those who can help me, remember that Jason.”