Beastborne- Mark of the Founder

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Beastborne- Mark of the Founder Page 84

by James T Callum


  He dragged a hand down his face, suddenly very tired. “It’s all right, Noth. I know you didn’t mean to cause a problem. But please try to be a little more careful?”

  She nodded with a look of relief on her fair features.

  It’s not right to punish her or be mad at her for not understanding how people function. Even normal people have trouble understanding how to properly act in accordance with local customs and laws.

  “I’m going to finally get some replacement equipment for all of us and see what supplies Durvin has for the journey ahead. Did you want to come with me?”

  “I thought you wanted me to stay away from Rondo?” She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Is this a test?”

  Hal shook his head. “No test. You didn’t know any better, now you do. Besides, we’re not going to be anywhere near Rondo so that still holds true.”

  “Then yes, I would like to wear something that is not from the skin of an animal.”

  Your Leadership has risen to Level 18(23).

  +1% Party damage (+23%).

  +2% Leadership efficacy (+46%).

  Your Persuasion has risen to Level 12.

  +1% Persuasion success (+12%).

  +0.5% Antagonistic persuasion success (+6.0%).

  Together the pair went to find Durvin who was looking over a large barrow stacked with opened crates and housing many guards in fine armor and weapons. “So ye finally remembered me!” the fiery dwarf barked upon seeing Hal.

  “You’re very hard to forget, Durvin,” Hal said with a grin. “Now, show me what you’ve got to offer. Something in the light armor category, nothing too heavy for me.”

  Durvin looked him up and down. “Ye mean like a fancy-pants caster type? Might as well wear the garb I already gave ye!”

  Hal chuckled at the obvious disdain. “Not exactly. I’m looking for as much armor as you can give me while keeping nimble. Got anything in mind?”

  “Might’n have what yer looking fer. Come here and have a gander.” Durvin called him over to a long table with all manner of armor laid out across it.

  Being dwarven-made, the items were in every shape and fashion of metal that was possible. From chain metal shirts so supple that they flowed through Hal’s hand like water to heavy interlocking plates of metal that Hal couldn’t even lift to put on.

  The defense on the items was far and away better than anything he was used to. Durvin had everything for nearly any major Class. Seeing it all, Hal started to think on a grander scope than his specific armaments.

  A militia would need weapons, armor, munitions, and supplies. Guards to keep the peace would need them as well. This wasn’t just outfitting himself and his party anymore.

  “How much for the lot?” Hal asked.

  Durvin looked up at him curiously. “Ye can’t wear it all, boy.”

  “I don’t plan on it.”

  “Ah,” Durvin said, nodding along. “Now yer thinkin’ like a leader! Takes a different view o’ things, don’t it?” The bronze-bearded dwarf rubbed his hands together looking over everything and then stuck two fingers into his mouth and blew a loud, shrill whistle.

  A moment later, a bald-headed dwarf with a long white beard tied into five thick braids set with large metal ornaments came into the room. “Ye called, me-”

  Durvin waved away the rest of whatever the man was about to say. “No time fer pleasantries, Ferras! Ye got the bills from the various clans?”

  “Of course,” the older dwarf replied. He had a refined accent compared to Durvin and now that he was up close, Hal could see a tiny set of spectacles perched on his long pointed nose.

  “If we were to sell all the wares at our usual price, how much would that run us?”

  Ferras looked at Hal, then back at Durvin.

  “They’re the ones’re buyin’ the durned things! O’ course I don’t mind if they hear. I ain’t a sneak,” Durvin bellowed to the unasked question.

  The two of them were developing an understanding. Durvin knew what it meant to lead and Hal could see the way the other dwarves looked up to their leader. Even when he was forced to do some very undwarf-like things, Hal never saw their faith in him waiver.

  Hal found himself wanting to help him and he didn’t doubt that the dwarf was warming to him as well. Together they could do a lot more than either could apart. And from what Hal could piece together, Bouldergut wasn’t the highest on the totem pole back in their home of Anvil.

  This new Sanctum provided both of them with an opportunity to prove their worth and make something truly great. Just looking at the excellent craftsmanship of the armors Durvin laid out was enough to convince Hal that they would create a city unrivaled in beauty and strength.

  All he had to do was get them there.

  “About forty-two thousand sparks,” Ferras said after taking out a few sheets from his robe and looking them over. “But that’d be for all o’ it. A year’s worth.”

  Hal looked at Durvin. “We’ll take it all.”

  Ferras practically swooned but Durvin caught him and steered him over to a chair. “Put a durned lid on it!” he growled at the older man. “Ye see what I’m dealin’ with here?” he said to Hal, motioning to the older dwarf. “Now ye knowin’ the truth o’ the matter. How many dwarves do ye need?”

  The older dwarf swallowed hard and regained his composure. “Seven. I know precisely who, if ye’ll allow me?”

  “Go on then,” Durvin said. “Take yer pick.”

  Ferras hopped out of the chair so fast Hal thought he was going to pitch forward and fall on his face. Instead, he hurried out of the room faster than he’d ever seen a dwarf move.

  Durvin eyed Hal up and down then motioned to the various crates. “They’re all yers. Once ye pay o’ course.”

  Noth looked at the pair. “I do not understand.”

  “What don’t ye get, lass?”

  “You are forming a partnership, yes?” Noth peeked at some of the heavier breastplates at the table. She walked to one and picked it up, one that Hal hadn’t been able to even with his increased STR.

  “What of it?” Durvin asked.

  “If you both are forming a mutually beneficial pact, why does he need to pay for these items?” Noth set down the breastplate with an appreciative nod. “These items will strengthen both of your aims. It seems… odd to charge money for it. Money that may – as I am to understand – be used for supplies that a town might need.”

  Durvin stroked his short beard thoughtfully. “People can’t be goin’ about tradin’ chickens and pretty rocks, lass. Ye got to have an economy o’ some kind or else ye got nothin’ and sparks be a good form o’ payment.”

  “That is not what I-” Noth began, but Durvin raised a hand to forestall her.

  “I know, lass, I know,” he said. “What I mean is, we can’t be givin’ this away. Ye got the right of it, it would be better if’n I could just give it all away to the boy here and be done with it. Dagdamora knows he could put it to some good use. But that ain’t the point.”

  “Then what is the point?” Noth asked, hands on her hips.

  “The point, lass, is to have an economy ye got to have circulation o’ goods and coin. The boy will get use o’ the goods. And with the coin yer givin’ us we’ll spend it on goods yer lot no doubt has to trade. That is how an economy be born.

  “And it goes without sayin’, a fair bit o’ this stuff ain’t ours. If’n I gave it all away, that would be theft. And I ain’t no durned thief!”

  107

  “So, you will trade items back and forth for sparks. Ultimately moving the money around so that functionally, the difference is practically the same as if you were to give the items to Hal?” Noth asked after another lengthy explanation.

  “Ye go the right o’ it. Moving the money around is necessary,” Durvin said as if he was explaining that air or water was necessary for life. “Ye stop the flow and just like yer blood, the thing dies.

  “It may be slow but it’ll die all the same. Seen
it time and time again with them durned human nobles always hoarding their money and taxin’ their people more. Ain’t no movin’ money soon and they wonder why the kingdom collapses!”

  Noth shrugged. “Perhaps it is a mortal thing I will understand in time.” She eyed the breastplate she had picked up earlier. “So that means that all of these items are now Hal’s property?”

  “Once he pays,” Durvin agreed.

  “Then I should like this piece of armor,” she said.

  “Go on then,” Hal said, motioning for her to take it. “I’ll return with the money.”

  Hal was halfway across the camp when he heard Durvin’s loud yell. “Don’t ye be changin’ right in front of me girl! Get yerself behind that screen!”

  I really should find a way to give her some basic lessons on decorum and how to conduct herself. It must be so odd to suddenly be moral, to feel emotions after so many countless years of never needing to worry about any of that. Heck, she didn’t even need to worry about gravity before.

  Hal returned to their rooms and walked right up to Vorax, imparting a friendly greeting and inquiring how the mimic had been. He couldn’t keep pretending the mimic was anything but a very nice chest for long. But there had been enough surprises and upheavals for a little while.

  Once they were on the road, he’d tell Durvin.

  Vorax seemed to come out of a stupor, though Hal quickly understood that wasn’t the right word. Mimics slept over long periods of inactivity, sometimes decades at a time, which Vorax imparted to him through a series of images and sensations that Hal had to translate.

  “Sleeping,” Hal said with a chuckle. “You were sleeping, got it. I’m sorry for waking you buddy, but could you give me those sparks you found earlier? I promise you can go back to your beauty rest after.”

  Always eager to please, Vorax coughed out a small velvet pouch. It hit the ground with a muffled clink. Hal didn’t question where the mimic got the pouch from and considering he was going to immediately give it to Durvin, he didn’t much care.

  “Thanks, Vorax.” He pet the mimic’s lid and marched out of the room to find Ashera and Elora.

  “Where have you been?” Elora asked him when he approached. They were still in the mess hall, even though lunch was long over. Elora, Mira, and Ashera were sitting at a table with the old gnome and talking like they were all old friends.

  “Dealing with Durvin,” Hal answered. “I’ve arranged for the sale of his entire stock. Most of it is armaments but I spotted some tools in there too. The quality is unlike anything we’re going to be able to get in town so I offered to buy the whole thing. Only….”

  “Only you don’t have enough,” Rondo chimed in. “You know, I would be happy to chip in.”

  Hal shook his head. He did have enough money to cover the costs himself. But there was more to buy than the wares of the dwarves. They still needed supplies for the trip and for the settlement once they arrived.

  Even if he covered everything right now, he would still need to go around pooling money for the supplies. Better to get it over with now.

  “I’m not taking your money,” Hal said. Why was this so hard? Shouldn’t the gnome want to go back home? “This isn’t a ransom. But no, with the earnings from the Coffin Contract we could easily afford it. I was suggesting that we pool our resources to buy this and the supplies we’ll need.”

  Mira turned around, kicking her legs out over the bench to face Hal. “How much is the total for Durvin’s wares?”

  “Forty-two grand,” Hal said.

  Each of their eyes widened in shock. All except Rondo who seemed to have a decent measure on what dwarven-made goods likely cost.

  “We could split it four ways, each of us paying about ten thousand,” Mira offered. “That’d barely touch our gains from the Contract, not to mention the loot from the Shoggoth and everything else. If it helps the cause I’d empty out my entire purse.”

  Both Ashera and Elora nodded their agreement, and once again for reasons Hal didn’t understand, so too did the gnome.

  “Not to mention we have a lot of loot to get rid of,” Mira continued. “I bet we could get that down by a fair margin if we pooled everything the dwarves might want to buy.”

  What they needed was a pooled coffer or treasury. He idly wondered if Vorax would like to be his treasurer.

  That put a grin on his face.

  “Let’s all go visit Durvin then,” Mira said, rising to stand beside Hal. “Get this all sorted out quick-like. Head back into town to pick up Rondo’s things….”

  Rondo was aggressively trying to signal for Mira to shut up.

  Hal looked to one, then the other. “He’s not coming with us. We’ve got enough non-combatants as it is.” He looked around the half-empty mess hall. “Which reminds me, where is Luda and her half-dozen?”

  “They’re with Yesel,” Elora said.

  He was honestly surprised – and relieved – that the young girl had left him alone. “Rondo stays here,” Hal reiterated.

  The gnome put a hand over his heart. “As you wish. I won’t move from this spot!”

  Hal didn’t know what to make of the gnome and his sudden turn-around. It worried him more than a little that it was Stockholm syndrome. Though he hadn’t been held captive nearly long enough, had he?

  Shaking his head, Hal led them all back to Durvin where each of them pitched in to complete the sale. That left Hal with a sizeable amount left and his inventory was still full of loot and other items he didn’t need.

  Ashera, Elora, Mira, and Hal all took an empty table for themselves and emptied their inventories out to sort through what they wanted to keep and what they wanted to sell.

  Once Hal emptied out his gobbiecoins, Durvin’s eyes went wide. “Don’t see much o’ these anymore,” he said lifting a [Gold Gobbiecoin] up and biting it. “Real gold too. I’ll be durned.”

  “What worth are they with sparks as the main currency?” Hal asked.

  “Well, not all folk enjoy the simplicity o’ sparks. There be some people who like to collect as well. Weird folk. Typically though? Goin’ rate is one Bronze Gobbiecoin to one spark. Ten bronze to a silver, ten silver to a gold, ten gold to a platinum, though I ain’t seein’ any platinum here.”

  Hal shook his head. “I don’t have any.”

  Durvin shifted the coins around counting them out. “The coins alone are worth a bit over three thousand.”

  Out of a weird sense of sentimentality, Hal kept a single bronze coin and pushed the rest to the side of his “sell” pile. Along with it, he put a host of other items.

  Hal kept the important piece, the codices, all of Thirty-seven’s gear, and anything else he thought of as more valuable to keep than to sell.

  “Ye got yerself a lot o’ unidentified things here. I got the Identify skill if’n ye want me to have a gander,” Durvin said, already beginning to examine the pair of [Unidentified Boots].

  When all was said and done Hal earned 2,000 more sparks than he spent and gained a new piece of gear from Durvin identifying the three pieces of loot.

  Of the three, only the [Shaper’s Coat] was any use. He would have taken the [Caster’s Boots] as well but he preferred his [Leaping Boots], so he offered those to Ashera who gladly took them.

  The third piece of unidentified equipment turned into a pair of heavily armored boots that nobody wanted. Hal was about to sell those too until he saw the glint in Durvin’s eyes and instead gave them to the man as a gift.

  Hal added the [Adventurer’s Kits] to the growing pile of items for his Sanctum, keeping a single for himself since the items within were so useful. Durvin took his axe to the two locked chests from the goblin cave, revealing a sizeable assortment of jewels that dazzled the bronze-eyed dwarf.

  Durvin motioned to Noth. “This be how an economy is birthed.” He sighed contentedly and wiped the mist from his eyes. “It’s a beautiful thing to see.”

  Among them, only Durvin and Ashera had the Appraisal ability which a
llowed them to have a fairly accurate estimate of an item’s worth.

  “How did you get that ability?” Hal asked.

  “Ye’ll get it from buyin’ an’ sellin’ a lot or dealing with expensive items. Part o’ the Mercantile skill.”

  Which appeared a moment later almost as if Durvin summoned the prompt.

  You unlocked Mercantile (Level 0).

  Trade is the lifeblood of all civilized nations. More important than land, deadlier than any war, trading can make or break a nation.

  Your Mercantile has risen to Level 1.

  +1% Sale price over buyer’s skill (+1%).

  -0.5% Purchase price over seller’s skill (-0.5%).

  Durvin chuckled. “Looks like ye just got it. Well, out with it boy!”

  Hal furrowed his brow. “Yeah, I did.”

  “Faster’n most I seen.”

  “So to determine the price of something it compares my Mercantile Skill against somebody else’s?”

  “Ye got the gist of it,” Durvin answered, sifting through the piles of bought loot. Another few dwarves were packing the things up into crates to ship back with Ferras when he made his trek back to Anvil.

  Each of them – aside from Durvin – had also taken the time to sort through the wide assortment of items Hal purchased in bulk from Clan Bouldergut. They all sported brand-new equipment that gave the rush of progression and that unique thrill of anticipation that came with wanting to test out a new piece of gear in battle.

  Hal strapped his silvery bracers on, feeling the comfortable weight of them on his forearms and once more hiding his Founder’s mark. “One last stop to make before we leave,” Hal said.

  “The Gone Goose?” Elora asked.

  “Yeah,” Hal answered, a somber mood coming over the group. “The Gone Goose.”

  108

  Hal left instructions with Durvin to give to a separate group of dwarves that would go into town and buy all the supplies they would need. With Hal’s purse given over for the purchase of said supplies, the dwarven leader didn’t feel the need to accompany the group back into Murkmire.

 

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