Chapter: 338 Bonus - Preparations (Patreon)

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Eanlaith normally loved his job.

He and his family ran a hatchery below Alefast, and they had for generations. They had decided to stay for the waning, because people still needed food, and there was money to be made in supplying them.

No, that’s not true. I pushed for us to stay, despite beloved’s reservations… I should have listened to her.

The defenders during wanings, historically, really appreciated the lean meats of chicken, duck, and turkey, causing the sellers of those meats to have a ready market for a large amount of product.

Unfortunately, there had been some sort of development with the Culinary Guild, and now it seemed that many, if not most, of the newly arrived defenders for the waning were buying from them, instead.

It’s a disaster…

Eanlaith still did a brisk business, selling a hundred fowl a day or so. He sold more butchered birds to the restaurants, but it wasn’t the nearly one thousand or more that records had led him and his to believe they should be able to grow rich from.

The market changed, and we didn’t realize it. He had so many birds coming to maturity soon, and no ready buyers. He’d planned on turning the best into breeding pairs, but that would only delay the problem, making it worse in the the end.

They were making enough to get by, but what had seemed to be ten years of tremendous profits, followed by an easy move to a new city would be replaced by a decade of scraping by, and coming into another city with little money, and little chance of getting a good foothold.

We need something to get us enough capital to get out of here…

As if like a gift from the stars themselves, a passing young woman halted in her tracks, turning to look at him, then his sign.

She was an odd one, first of all because she was in this district of the market, which was usually only pervaded by business owners, or those looking to purchase large amounts, and she didn’t have that feel about her.

Eanlaith had developed a sense for detecting business owners, and he suspected she wouldn’t choose that role if she could help it.

Beyond that, her leather clothing was precisely tailored and clean to the point of looking unworn, yet she had no shoes at all.

Her hair was in a perfect braid, and her eyes were a lovely, ruby red. There were faint tracings of metal under her skin, and only then did he realize that she was a Mage.

I’ve never seen such fine inscriptions! He thought, surprised. As he considered it, he might be able to bear the pain of such thin ministrations. Maybe that’s why she got them so small? She must be at least a little averse to pain.

She smiled and stepped closer. “Excuse me, I’m Tala.”

He bowed deeply. “Mistress Tala, it is an honor to have you visit my stand. I am Eanlaith.”

“Well, if you have what I need, it is my good fortune to have found you.”

“What can I assist you with?” He felt himself growing excited. Dare I hope?

“I need birds… lots of birds.”

He hesitated, his shoulders sinking. “My apologies, Mistress, but I sell ducks, turkeys, and chickens for eating, not pets or decorative species.”

She colored slightly. “Aren’t… aren’t those birds?” She then seemed to talk to herself. “I was sure they were. Aren’t they? Yeah, I thought so.”

By this point she was frowning, and so Eanlaith waved his hands placatingly. “My apologies again, Mistress. Generally, meat birds are not called ‘birds,’ but fowl or poultry. I simply did not wish to deceive you and ended up confusing you instead.”

“Oh…” She hesitated a moment then shrugged. “Well, that’s alright then. So, how much are they?”

“Well, how many do you need?” At least I can make something off of her. She clearly has money.

“I suppose that depends on how many you have, and how much they are?”

“At the moment, we have in the range of twelve thousand chickens, ten thousand ducks, and seven thousand turkeys. With that supply, we can meet any ongoing needs with ease. I assure you, however many you want, I can supply.”

Her eyes widened, clearly in delight. “You really are the premiere poultry supplier in the city.”

He smiled, nodding with pride. “That’s what the sign says.”

“How much for all of them?”

Eanlaith felt his mind hitch, and he shook his head to clear it. “I apologize, I must have misheard you.”

She stepped a little closer. “How much for all of them? I want to know the ball-park number.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it. “Well, that would close down my business, without any breeding pairs left.”

“Oh… I didn’t think of that.”

“It isn’t a problem for the right price, but I wanted you to be aware of what you are requesting.”

“Of course.” She looked rather uncertain now.

Stop dithering! How much? I can’t just charge her for the base price I’d sell live birds for, that would be about sixty gold… How much would his family need to pull up their roots and move? “My apologies yet again, Mistress, I was not expecting such a question. One moment if you would?”

“Certainly.”

“Thank you.” A year’s profits would be fourteen gold on average, so ten years would be a hundred and forty, but to get it all at once removes much of our familial expenses that would need to be paid during that time, and I have to also consider good years… “I think a hundred gold?”

She blinked at him a few times. “That…” She frowned. “That is both more expensive, and less than I would have thought… Huh…” She shook her head. She seemed to be considering the price, but she was clearly on the fence about it.

How much money does she have? I would have thought it was either much too expensive if the wealth she displays isn’t her own, or nothing to her if she has as much as it appears… He almost laughed, realizing that that was almost precisely what she had said.

Finally, she nodded. “I’ll give you sixty-five gold for them, half up front, and I’ll come to claim them… in two days. You may keep selling until then, keeping the profits, so long as the number you quoted is still a reasonable approximation.”

He hesitated. That was a reasonably good deal. If he had two days, he could get an exact count and sell any excess to his current contacts with relative ease. He could even sell the best, the prized breeding pairs to his few, much smaller competitors. The process wouldn’t net him anywhere close to thirty gold, but it would gain him quite a lot.

And the growers have been asking after my caverns…

That decided it. He could sell his rights to the feeding, breeding, and housing caverns below the city and that would allow him and his to depart if not as well-off as he’d hoped, certainly better off than he’d been fearing.

And much much sooner. That meant a safer trip, and more time to get established. Money now is worth more than money later.

He bowed deeply, grabbing his Archive slate and quickly drawing up the contract, blessing his father for insisting he train with a local Mage until he could at least utilize magically binding contracts.

“I accept.”

The woman carefully read what he’d written, pausing when she got to the numbers, “‘At least eleven thousand five hundred chickens, nine thousand five hundred ducks, and six thousand five hundred turkeys.’”

She glanced up at him, one eyebrow raised and a small smile on her face. He shrugged.

She huffed a laugh and shook her head. “That is the literal interpretation of what I said, I suppose.”

Then, bless the stars above, she confirmed the agreement in the manner only the most powerful Mages could.

“I look forward to seeing you in two days. Is the address on this contract header that of your warehouse?”

“My offices, Mistress. I can lead you to the pens from there. Will you need help arranging transportation?”

She shook her head as she turned to walk away. “I’ll handle it.”

“As you wish, good day!”

She waved over her shoulder. “Good day.”

As he watched her disappear among the other pedestrians, he realized that he’d never asked what she wanted the poultry for.

I suppose I’ll never know. He chuckled. Or I can ask her in two days, I suppose.

Regardless, he had a lot to do in the next two days. There were at least three people he could approach about buying his best breeding pairs, and he needed to start his cousins on getting a precise count immediately.

Even with all the new work added to his plate, Eanlaith found himself humming as he closed down his main-thoroughfare stall, and headed back to the main office.

You know, I can sell the rights to our stall location as well. That had been with them for generations as well, ever since they were a small family farm, selling what eggs they could spare.

They were moving on.

I can’t wait to tell my beloved.

* * *

Leolo normally loved her job as a captain of the city guard, but things had gone sideways with the waning’s early ramp up.

There were Refined crawling all over her city, and monsters attacking at regular intervals that she could do nothing about.

You were supposed to retire before it got to this point… She was a scant handful of years from the end of her service as she’d planned it. Then, she would go buy a small shop in a newer city near her children  and live out her days.

Honestly, she could have retired right then and there, but she did enjoy her job. She’d never expected to love it so much when she’d taken up her husband’s sword after his death. She’d come to it because the kids had needed to eat, and she’d found comfort in using the skills he had taught her while they were still courting.

Decades later, the kids had moved on to another city, and she’d decided to stay to finish out her tenure. No need to start at the bottom of the ladder yet again.

The grandkids were getting older, though, and it had been a few years since she’d seen them… Maybe—

“Excuse me?”

Leolo jerked as she noticed the woman standing in front of her desk. “Oh! Pardon me, Mistress.”

The captain stood and bowed over her own desk.

“I should have acknowledged you immediately. Were you waiting long?”

“Not long, no.” The woman smiled. “I’m Tala.”

“Mistress Tala, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am Leolo.” She hesitated. Wait… is she…?

“Well, Captain Leolo, I am told that you are the woman to speak to if I wish to reserve access to a towertop for my own purposes?”

The captain was momentarily torn. She was almost certain that this was the Mage who’d fought a cyclops outside the walls some weeks back, but as she hadn’t been in any new skirmishes, there wasn’t a lot to be shown.

Focus Leolo, you’ve a job to do. “Oh! Of course. Will there be any other considerations? Will we need to clear the wall-walks, or the lower rooms in the tower? What about the wall-road below or near the tower?”

“What?” She looked genuinely startled. “No, no. Nothing like that. I just need one of the eastern towers on the nineteenth.”

“Of this month?”

“Yes, please.”

Leolo flipped through her records. “I believe we can accommodate you. We’ll need you to fill out these usage forms, and we’ll review the request.”

Mistress Tala took them and scanned over the documents with quick eyes. “I can do that.”

Leolo almost asked what the Mage wanted to use a tower-top for, but experience stayed her lips. Leave Mages to their business, and carry out your own.

It was advice her first commander had given her, and in her decades of service, it had never steered her wrong.

“Well, then. As soon as I have those back, I’ll be able to reserve the space for your use. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“No, thank you.”

The Mage gave a shallow, appropriate bow and departed, leaving Leolo to get back to her ever growing list of tasks, and the consideration of the pros and cons of an early retirement.

* * *

Derasan was cross.

He loved the theater more than almost anything, and the city was filled with rich, potential patrons, but the house-master wasn’t allowing them to perform more than once a week.

He said that there just wasn’t patronage for it, at least not at the moment.

They had more than a dozen plays practiced and prepared, which they would cycle through, and it would take them months to get to them all even if they changed plays every week, and Derasan knew they’d do each play at least three times.

I am the lead in five, but I can’t bask in that glory for months! It was madness. They were doing most of the work by practicing, why not get a little money for their efforts?

But apparently having too many showings, with too few people in attendance was worse for business than letting the theater be nearly full for every performance.

Derasan came out of his inner thoughts to deliver his lines flawlessly, as always, and to draw his prop-sword.

The duel was rote, but he still gave it all of his attention.

He was a professional, after all.

As he was collapsing ignobly to the stage floor, he noticed the house-master talking with an odd young woman.

He’d have dismissed the interaction as another hopeful actress, seeking work, but with the waning afoot…

The woman departed, a clear spring in her step, and the house-master turned toward them with a beaming smile.

He clapped his hands thrice, garnering their attention. “Good news everyone!”

* * *

Raon was used to dealing with Refined, and rarely even Paragons, and so he maintained his best, plastered on, ‘there’s really nothing I can do’ face. “I’m so sorry, Mistress Tala, but we simply cannot allow those of lower advancement into the Refined level training arenas. There are rules and regulations that we must follow. I am happy to reserve it for your personal practice, though?”

Please?

The woman grimaced, clearly irritated. “But I already said there’d be a healer on hand, and the Mage in question spars against me quite often. Why won’t you allow us to have a better space for the training? Please?”

“As I have explained many, many times: It really has nothing to do with me, Mistress. I simply am not allowed to…” He trailed off as someone instantly recognizable appeared next to the Refined who had been… inquiring with Raon for nearly ten minutes. “Master Grediv, sir.”

Raon bowed in his seat, blushed, stood, and bowed again.

The Paragon—leader of the Archon Counsel of the entire city—waved him back up, a kindly smile on his lips. “Thank you, Raon.” He then turned toward the Refined. “Mistress Tala.”

Raon relaxed. With Master Grediv here, the persistent woman would have to see that there was nothing that could be done.

“Master Grediv.” Mistress Tala smiled brightly. “Maybe you can help me.”

Raon felt a sinking sensation settle into his gut. It was possible that he had entirely misjudged who had just received what they’d been wishing for.

* * *

Pedrin stood before the Mage whose visits had earned him many a drink at the local tavern.

The tales were becoming something of a local legend, even before he’d embellished them.

The three times he’d seen her had all been memorable in different ways, which was what made this time so unique. It seemed to be a rather normal inquiry.

“Are you sure that’s all you need? A reference to someone I’d trust to forge masterwork tools?”

“Yes, and if that’s you, all the better.”

He considered the craft in question. “I do have some experience, and I can make the rasps well enough, but the chisels? Those are highly specialized, precision pieces that take experience to do just right.”

Mistress Tala frowned for just a moment before realization dawned across her features. “Oh! No, no. I said ‘quarrying’ not ‘carving.’”

He blinked at her a few times. “Quarrying? You want to cut your own material out of the mountains?”

Mistress Tala shrugged. “It seems like it would be more economical. I’m already a bit over budget…”

She wrinkled her nose a bit as if smelling something off.

“But that’s not your issue.”

Pedrin was a bit at a loss, but he thought he might have another idea for her. “I might recommend you speak to the masters of the wall, if you're seeking material of that kind. Though they’re Mages, they often bring in materials to work with, and their needs cause the crews to come across a lot that is nicer than is required for the walls.”

She hesitated. “Really?”

He shrugged. “From the tavern tales, that’s how it sounds. They may be a bit overblown, but there has to be at least a kernel of truth.”

She tilted her head to the side before shrugging. “I suppose that makes good sense. Thank you, master Pedrin.”

“It is my pleasure, Mistress.”

She turned to go, then paused one last time, glancing back. “Is your offer on the iron dust still in effect?”

He felt himself grinning despite himself, and not just because this had become another tale worthy of earning him drinks. “It most certainly is, Mistress. My smithy’s never been cleaner than after your last visit. Truly, I’d be grateful if you were to collect again, though there’s not near as much as before.”

“That’s understandable.” She smiled in return. “Thank you.”

He felt a tingle of something before all the iron dust in the smithy suddenly shot towards her in streams and rivers, merging and flowing toward her until it seemed to vanish upon contact.

A moment later, it was all gone, and she departed with a smile and a wave. “Thank you, again!”

“And thank you, Mistress! I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

The young woman turned a corner and was gone.

Pedrin shook his head. “What does a girl like that need with blocks of fine stone, anyway?

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