CivCEO: A 4x Lit Series (The Accidental Champion Book 1)

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CivCEO: A 4x Lit Series (The Accidental Champion Book 1) Page 20

by Andrew Karevik


  “Yusuf Avni, at your service,” he said, vigorously shaking my hand. He looked behind me and narrowed his eyes. “Are you hiding your heavy wagons somewhere?”

  “Your vision of the future was metaphorical, but not inaccurate,” I said. “I have opened up a trade route to the West, and represent the interests of two powerful villages with many things to offer. Are you interested in new trade opportunities?”

  Yusuf clapped his hands together, creating from midair a table, two chairs and a bountiful feast of food. A tent sprung up over us, giving us relief from the midday sun.

  “Please, sit and eat. I’d take you inside to my estate, but unfortunately these towers kill anyone who isn’t a resident of Sitago.”

  I took my seat and grabbed a glass of wine. Seeing the future? Summoning tables and food? No wonder they didn’t have a farm; they didn’t need one. I tried a bit of the beverage. It tasted like wine, but there was a dullness to it, as if it weren’t truly wine.

  “Excuse the taste of this banquet,” Yusuf said, sitting only after I had taken my seat. “Most strangers are not used to the flavors of ethereal food.”

  “It nourishes like real food?” I asked.

  Yusuf nodded. “Indeed, my friend.”

  I ate a bit, mainly out of courtesy. If one summons a magical banquet for you, it doesn’t matter if you already had lunch, you should eat. During the course of our meal, I took the time to inquire upon Yusuf’s unique build.

  “Why so many towers of magic?” I said.

  “Ah, that is always the first question I’m asked,” he said with a chuckle. “So when I first arrived, I worked very hard to build a thriving economy, a robust military and a beautiful estate. And then winter came and it was all gone in a matter of weeks. Where I am from, winter is cold, sure, but not fatal. Those of us from the outside world, from the great homeland, we forget the nightmare of winter that our ancestors dealt with. To us, wintertime is cold but safe. But to a world like this? It is the great equalizer, where the weak are decimated, the strong are put into their place, and only the cities survive.”

  “So you lost it all?”

  “Indeed. Population starved, our food supply dwindled and trade was near impossible,” Yusuf continued. “After all, I did not have the resources to move wagons about in the snow. But I am a man of science and industry, am I not? Upon barely surviving the cold, I realized that we must rely upon the Robust Science, or as they call it, magic, in order to survive. Control over fire to burn away the winter, control over the rain to raise crops, that sort of thing. The first tower was a great success, but why stop there? Now? Now Sitago is one of the most advanced magical villages in all Liora. The Robust Science has treated us well and we fear winter no more.”

  “But you can’t get the towers to work right,” I said. I didn’t mean to rain on his parade but I simply could not resist.

  This elicited great laughter from the man. “There is little perfection in magic. We’ll figure it out eventually.”

  “So you’re an entire village of spellcasters,” I said, shaking my head at the same time. I could not believe this man’s design. But it seemed to be working quite well. “Tell me, what can I do for you?”

  Yusuf’s wide smile began to shrink at my words. A look of hesitation replaced his warmth and cheeriness. “Friend, I mean no disrespect but you are new on the scene, are you not?”

  “I’ve not been here long,” I agreed.

  “But you have already made a great enemy of the Tradesmen,” he said. “Such things are not so good. I received word of the sanctions against you. I cannot engage in lawful trade with you, I fear.”

  “What are they providing you?” I asked. “Tell me and I’ll get it for you, for way cheaper.”

  Yusuf shrugged. “Price is not my major concern. We export magical artifacts to Igithor and we get paid quite well for them. I can also purchase anything I like from them, which means if we need ingredients, they will provide for me. I am happy with their services.”

  “I’m going to tell you right now, Yusuf, that’s not going to last,” I said. “The Tradesmen have made an enemy out of me, and right now, I am in a fight for survival. It so happens that I control territory right next to the Amber Road. This means that any of your supply wagons that head to Igithor will have to go through my roads.”

  “Are you threatening my supplies?”

  “An embargo was made on me,” I said. “Why should I not make an embargo upon them?”

  “I can give you a long, storied list of reasons why you should not make an embargo, my friend,” Yusuf said. “But what then would you do to my caravans? Steal from me? I should hope not.”

  “I would send them back around. I have mercenaries to enforce such things.”

  “There are other roads,” Yusuf said. “And spells to make my caravans fly.”

  “Why go through all the hassle?” I asked. “The Western Road will provide you with everything you need, I can promise you that.”

  Yusuf sighed. “I sell 500 gold worth of magical artifacts a month to the Tradesmen.”

  “What kind?”

  “Custom orders usually. We export purely on order. Whatever they need for the month, we make.”

  I could work with this; I could work with this quite easily. “Euthos needs weapons of war, can you create those?”

  “I could,” Yusuf said.

  “I’ll double the shipment then,” I said. “1,000 gold per month if sent to Euthos.”

  “And they will pay?”

  “I guarantee it,” I said. “All you need to do is work with me here. The road is completely clear, there are no bandits. And most importantly, you can order anything else you want from either party. We don’t require any exclusive contracts, nor do we control who you do business with.”

  Yusuf frowned at that. “You are a desperate man to offer such a high wage.”

  “Do not confuse desperate with prudent,” I said. “I have much to gain from this offer, and I want you to benefit as well.”

  “The Tradesmen will not be happy about such an arrangement,” he replied. “It will put me within their crosshairs.”

  “But they can’t blockade your trades, and judging from your magical prowess, I’m guessing you have no fear of invasion?”

  “There are walls no mortal man can see surrounding us,” Yusuf admitted. “But still…I don’t know if I want the trouble.”

  “What will it take? Name your price,” I said.

  “I need time to think,” he said. This was problematic. His disposition was to say no; if I gave him any free time to think, he would talk himself out of the deal. Instead, I needed to increase the pressure.

  “I fear that I am unable to stay long,” I said, slowly rising from the table. “I have three other villages to reach before heading to Manithor. I’d need a decision now.”

  “I want alchemical supplies,” he blurted out. “The only real cost we incur is alchemy. We need herbs, distilled alcohol and such. We take in a good amount from selling to the Tradies, but to be honest we lose almost as much whenever we need more supplies.”

  “Give me a list and I’ll tell you what we can do for you,” I said. Yusuf took a moment to hastily write down a list of ingredients and then handed it to me. He needed 10 units of pure alcohol per month, 20 units of herbs, 20 units of lumber.”

  “I can get you the herbs for 3 gold per unit, and the lumber for 2 per unit,” I said. “The pure alcohol might take some time to track down. Can you wait on that?”

  “We have plenty for now,” he said, “but what would you charge for it when it comes in?”

  I quickly checked the base market price for pure alcohol, which came in at 15 gold per unit. “I can give it to you for 25 per unit,” I replied. If I could locate a source on my route, it would solve this problem, but I could also consider building my own distiller, as long as I could get access to corn.

  Yusuf ran the numbers. “So you’r
e giving me everything for 350 a month, not a bad discount,” he said.

  “And when you factor in the higher amount of gold you get per shipment,” I replied, “you’re making significantly more.”

  “Can you double the amounts of the herbs and lumber then?” he asked. “I need those more than gold.”

  “Easily,” I said. Authos had plenty of access to herb gardens, thanks to Savannah’s need for her own alchemical ingredients. And I had more than enough lumber to sell for cheap.

  Yusuf pondered for a few moments, looking at the numbers he had been scribbling down. “I’m taking quite the risk with you,” he said quietly.

  “Yes, but you’re gaining so much more than sticking with the status quo,” I replied, writing out the contract and sliding it over to him. “And unlike the Tradesmen, there are no threats here. No penalties, no danger of me showing up with goons to collect payments. Just honest, civil trade.”

  “You have three months to impress me,” Yusuf said, taking the paper and looking over the terms. He took a deep breath and signed, sealing a brand new trade deal. I smiled, knowing that there would be plenty of gold flowing to my pocket now, since the commissions were in my favor.

  That was one down, three more villages to go.

  Chapter 32

  My next stop, the town of Etherdome, didn’t last terribly long. When I arrived in the town, I noticed immediately that the Tradesmen had erected one of their own trading posts there, serving as a spot where goods could be purchased by the local champion. Upon spotting that post, I decided against continuing with my current plan. The last thing I needed was for word to get out that I was going around in the southern territories, trying to circumvent the sanctions that had been placed on me.

  It was a shame to have to skip this place, since I knew that the champion, Michelle, was quite loaded with excess gold, but I’d rather not risk getting caught. Putting a trading post in her own village was a clear sign of loyalty. I’d have to move elsewhere, closer to Manithor.

  After I passed Etherdome, continuing along the Amber road, I noticed that the road seemed to improve greatly. The closer I got to the big city, the better paved the road was. I had become a bit too distracted by this improvement, looking down as my horse rode ahead, to note that there was a tall man, heavily armed and wearing full plate armor standing in front of an overturned wagon. Bandits.

  I wasn’t carrying anything of value on me, except for my book. Would they perceive it to be of value? Would it sell for a small fortune on the markets? I did not know.

  “Hold it there,” the bandit said, raising his hand. “Drop everything you have, money, clothes, and your horse, then turn right back around and go home.” He was holding a rather sharp-looking battle axe and meant business with his tone. But I did not comply with his command.

  “What’s your opinion on the Tradesmen?” I asked. “Do you rob them?”

  The bandit, a hardened man with a deep scar across his lip, nearly splitting in half, snarled at me. “Hate’em, almost as much as I hate mouthy victims. Do as I say.”

  “But I’m willing to bet you and your men don’t rob them, do you?” I asked. “And it’s not because they pay you off.”

  Those words seemed to irritate the man. “We aren’t afraid of them!”

  “But do you rob them?” I pressed.

  The man glared at me for a moment, but he could not keep his pride. Dropping his head a little, he confessed the truth. “Nay, we do not.”

  “So these men, who drive big fat carts full of treasures for you, get a free pass, while I, a traveling man with nothing of value on him, am harassed. How much did you hope to get off of me? A few pieces of gold? A nice necklace?” I asked.

  The bandit did not answer right away. “What are you playing at?” he finally asked. I could see a few of his companions were beginning to come out from behind the wagon, where they had been lying in wait in case of trouble.

  “You are attacking a sickly hare, when you could be eating steak,” I said. “But you’re afraid of their wrath. Here’s a better plan: instead of wasting your life trying to get rich off the odd merchant who isn’t working with the Tradies, how about you start robbing them instead?”

  “How would we even do that?” the bandit leader asked.

  “It’s simple enough,” I replied. “I’m no friend of these men. They have harassed me to no end. I am building a wall around my own territory, one where you will be safe. If you are so inclined to join my employ, you will have shelter, and more importantly, the rights to keep 90 percent of the loot you take from their caravans.”

  “Hah, what? Are you for real?” someone shouted from the back.

  “My name is Charles Morris, Champion of Tine and enemy of the Tradesmen,” I said, reaching into my satchel and unfurling the scroll containing the sanctions against me. “Go to the North and seek out Finch the Pinch. Tell him of our dealings and he will aid you further.”

  “Ay!” one of the thieves in the back shouted. “This is Finch’s guy! The one his cousin told me about, who pays’em to sit around all day and do nothing!”

  The bandit leader looked at his man and nodded. “We shall put it to a vote then, I suppose. All in favor of joining with Finch’s new patron?” And without hesitation, all twelve of the bandits raised their hands.

  “Very well then,” the leader said. “We shall go to Finch and see what he has to say about you.”

  These kinds of interactions were not terribly rare while traveling on the Amber Road. The Tradesmen had little interest in securing their own roads and, as a result, I would often encounter haggard groups of outcasts who were more interested in money than bloodshed. Slowly, I was recruiting them, using Finch’s reputation as a selling point. As Finch’s organization grew larger, so would my capacity to prevent the Tradies from moving any of their shipments to the south. They were not the only ones who were able to create blockades.

  By now, I had managed to add about 40 men, three different groups total, to Finch’s group. He was all too happy to have a growing power structure, but was finding it difficult to maintain control, since each group brought their own independent leader. Such men were not interested in taking orders, but the prospect of finally having a safe home, behind four walls, was enough to get them to fall in line for now. That was, as long as I could actually build a wall around Tine. I was taking somewhat of a gamble, on counting to get enough business to raise 1,000 gold. But if the remaining two villages were good to work with me, I could most likely make it.

  My next stop was the industrial village of Ulmack. Ulmack was the only village in Amber Forest that controlled multiple territories, spreading out their industrial tools across the entire region. I had seen a windmill while pressing through the west, but it had been isolated and alone. How this champion was able to retrieve resources from isolated buildings was a curiosity. Perhaps they had some kind of blessing or magic that allowed for such access. If so, perhaps it was something that I could learn as well.

  Ulmack was similar in design to Savannah’s own town, with large walls and a bustling interior. The people were far less militant, however, and I was free to enter without anyone paying me any mind. There was an air of relaxation, as if the people were not expecting any sort of trouble. I could see many civilians reclining about, relaxing far more than working. They were well dressed and seemed to be quite happy. According to Teresa, Ulmack’s champion was vehemently anti-war and preferred instead to be looked upon as a neutral party. Her policies of non-intervention and neutrality reminded me quite a bit of Switzerland from back home. It was my hopes that this neutrality would work in my favor as well.

  Upon my arrival to the townhall, I was greeted by one of her delegates, a Thomson Yorn. Mr. Yorn was an eager fellow, excitable, and had invited me to sit in his office.

  “We are so excited,” he said, clearing his desk of piles upon piles of papers, “to have you here! A representative of Tine! We’ve all heard great th
ings about you.”

  “Is that so?” I asked, looking around the office. It was more like a closet, to be honest. A small, windowless room with barely enough space for us to both fit comfortably. If the door swung inward, we would certainly never be able to leave.

  Thomson smiled at me. “Yes, sir!” he said. “Building a new trade route? You’re opening up a lot of potential for business. Our Great Lady has anticipated your arrival and so we’ve put a plan into place, a trade deal, if you will.” He dug into his desk and pulled out a small box full of papers. “It’s in here somewhere.”

  I appreciated Thomson’s eagerness, but I had been expecting to sit with Lady Elmira herself, to discuss these affairs personally. It was hard not to see this refusal to even meet me as anything other than an insult.

  “Is Elmira out of town?” I asked.

  Thomson shook his head. “No, not at all. Why do you ask?”

  “I…well, I don’t wish to be rude, but I am not a representative, as you called me,” I explained. “I am the Champion of Tine.”

  “Ah, yes, sorry I meant no offense,” Thomson said, raising his hands up a little as if to set me at ease. “I simply meant representative in a legal meaning.”

  “What I’m getting at,” I continued, “is that I would very much so like to speak with Lady Elmira and make this deal personally.”

  Thomson bit on his lower lip and sighed. “Well, sir…how can I put this? We have a very different way of doing things here in Ulmack. Lady Elmira doesn’t take audiences with other champions, to avoid being seen as favoring any specific member. And besides, she would be the first to admit that trading is not her strong suit. She’d much prefer to have a delegate, such as myself, handle these affairs. I have the full authority to do as she asks.”

  “Odd behavior for a leader…” I remarked. There was a discomfort on Thomson’s face, a slight uneasiness as if he were worried that I’d apply any more scrutiny. Something more was going on here. The question was, did I need to pursue it? I was on a bit of a ticking clock. As long as I got a deal, what did I care about Lady Elmira’s business? I pressed the matter aside. “But I understand if it must be done this way. So be it.”

 

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