Butcher of Gadobhra Chapter 264 (Patreon)

The party of imperial accountants and their entourage left Rowan Keep, Theordis stating he had finished for the day and would do the rest on their return trip. He was quite shaken by something. When Manfred and Geoffrey heard the story being passed around by the guards, they chuckled. Theordis saw things one way and would rather try to change the course of a river than admit he built the bridge in the wrong place. Geoffrey dealt with the movement of goods from one place to another within the empire. An excess of wheat was moved to where people had no bread. The breadless paid for it in wood or coal, which he moved where that needed to be. The empire kept a system of credits and debits for each area, and a local baron or village Mayor could draw on Imperial storehouses in times of need and pay back later. With interest, of course. And what they were given in credit for their goods was less than what was paid later. Storage and transportation had to be paid for, especially the mana used if the goods had to be sent by teleportation.

The system had worked for hundreds of years, with those in charge of the system and those controlling production making large sums of money. Some of which fell into the pockets of local functionaries. Theirs was a hard job; if no one appreciated them, they could at least live well. Or so they said to themselves. Sedgewick and Gadobhra were exciting projects for Geoffrey. Until two years ago, no one at all cared about the little village at the end of nowhere. Gadobhra was a forgotten ruin. Even the reason for Rowan Keep was largely forgotten. The main Legion presence was in Northguard; even that small army had hardly seen use in generations. The empire hadn't needed a storehouse in Sedgewick, where there wasn't even a local mayor and nothing to buy.

That had changed, and the empire was here to do business in their usual efficient manner. The Legion had been buying dozens of barrels of smoked meat from the Baron each week, some of which were high quality in both taste and the number of bonuses it gave. He'd also heard whispers that the Baron had a man capable of producing weaponized bacon. The Corp of War-Mages had made a specific request to acquire either the man producing the bacon, his recipe, a large stockpile of the food, or all three. He had a small bag of gold to offer the man if he couldn't induce the Baron to sell him his chef. If that failed, he might need two guards to encourage him to take a trip to the capital.

Sedgewick also produced excellent beer, ale, and surprisingly good apple wine with heavy enchantments. Some barrels of each had made it to many taverns that served a swill called Bludgeon Beer. He had also traced the sale of magic items back to the town, some being produced in bulk. The last item was the war machines. There were several of them at Rowan Keep, their bases secured with long bolts set into the stone. A prior acquisition of such devices by the Legion at Northguard had resulted in no new machines sitting in storage at Rowan Keep. They were delivered as a wall section or tower was finished and bolted into place. Centurion Marcus had been adamant about that when dealing with his superiors over the affair. Geoffrey did see the man's point. It was hard to get a job done when your allies borrowed your building materials.

Geoffrey needed to look over both the village and the city with an eye for setting up official storehouses and determining quotas for how much each would supply the empire. In return, he would ensure that the surplus held elsewhere was shipped to them. The current state of affairs made striking a deal even easier. Teleporting goods was expensive with the additional tariffs imposed. Tariffs that the Office of Trade wouldn't be charged.

The most significant task he had been charged with was gaining information on the mysterious trade routes. Informants who dealt with the corporations leasing land from the empire and building up the little villages were horrified and angry about an announcement that the system had sent to only managers of corporations. A trade agreement with a fae realm had been negotiated. Something done only three times in the last two hundred years. Yet that paled in comparison to a trade route to the demi-plane of Smoke. No trading had been done with the outer planes in recent history, and only a few wizards were thought to have ever made the journey. Yet Baron William was involved in the journey taken by two brave captains. Sightings of their ship had been reported from many places. The path led to Gadobhra. And since Geoffrey was already heading this way, it was tacked on to his chores.

Validating the story turned out to be easy. Floating off to one side of Sedgewick was the ship, sails, and hull gleaming. A lot of activity was occurring around it, and cargo was being loaded. Some of it was from the local area, but there were beautifully painted boxes and large amphorae of silvery glass that had come from the fae. Those were under guard by a giant and three of the crew. They were sitting on the mundane crates drinking something alcoholic and laughing. He told the others to continue and started to walk over.

An old man looked up in alarm as he skirted a tall building. "Hold up, you damned idiot! Can't you see the signs?!" Geoffrey had ignored the signs in his haste to see the ship. 'Beware of Pit! Stay Back!' The old man was running at him, a shovel held high. "No! You don't! You've been fed three tons of sedge beast today." Geoffrey cringed and prepared to be hit and was surprised when the old man slammed the shovel into a silver chain that had snaked across the ground to grab his ankle. The accountant scrambled away, and the chain retreated, slamming a door. The old man turned to him.

"Sorry about that, fellah. It's still misbehaving, and the boy coddles it too much, thinking it will behave if he wears it out. Spare the shovel, and spoil the hell pit. That's what I was taught."

Geoffrey stood up, recovering his nerve. "I must agree. Sound advice. Now, could you explain what that hellish building is?" The large square building was four stories tall, with several chimneys and small smoke pipes jutting from the sides. Stonework went up ten feet high, and the construction was of heavy timbers after that. The peaked roof of red tile softened the look. A rich scent of smoked and burnt meat came from the house. Even as he asked the question, it seemed apparent that this building was tied to meat and bacon production.

The old man spit tobacco to the side. "It's a Tier 4 Charnel Pit. Our Butcher uses it to concoct all of his smoked meat. A handy thing to have around, but it has a mind of its own. Most folks know to stay away from it or can read the signs."

"So I see. And the ship? Is that the one that flies to the planes? Can I speak to the Captain and get a tour? I would like to conduct some official business."

The old man laughed. "Yeah, you and everyone else, I bet. I'll tell you the same thing I told that Fae Hellwitch. "Go talk to the Baron, and stay away from the ship. I'll emphasize that for someone who was enough of a darn fool to get close to a charnel pit: Stay away from the ship, off limits. The crew is a bit touchy about it. Two merchants got too curious having their legs splinted as we speak."

Geoffrey thanked him for his time and retreated. He had learned a little. No sense in risking broken bones. He would talk to the Baron. Barons were always more reasonable than Butchers and Sea Captains.