Chapter 265: Business Lunch
If audio player doesn't work, press Stop then Play button again
Chapter 265: Business Lunch
As Geoffrey returned from looking at the flying ship, Manfred noticed his pace was quick, and his brow furrowed. "Let me guess, you saw something interesting and are trying to figure out how to make money off it?"
Geoffrey looked up; that had indeed been a close guess. "Manfred, my old friend, you have a good sense of what an item is worth owing to your high level of Identification. Would you do me the favor of telling me something about that building?" He pointed to a large building with several chimneys. Manfred obliged him, walking toward it until he saw the signs. He stopped, stared at it, and slowly backed away, treating it like a dangerous animal you couldn't turn your back on. Regaining the group's safety and with two guards between him and the building, he let out the breath he was holding.
He screamed at Geoffrey, "You could have warned me!"
Geoffrey tried to look innocent. "But I wanted your honest opinion without my input."
Manfred stifled several retorts and then answered the original question. "It's a Hellpit! A literal Hellpit. The work of a Charnel Demon and capable of holding a man for torture and using his soul as fuel. And it...ah...well, it also appears to be curing hams." He took another glance at it. "And frighteningly, it's a Tier 4 Hellpit. How does a Town barely into the second Tier acquire such a thing? Is it inhabited? And what sort of demon could the town be harboring? I'm not sure how to even tax it!"
Theordis was astonished to hear such a statement from Manfred. "How could it not be listed in the tax code?" L1tLagoon witnessed the first publication of this chapter on Ñøv€l--B1n.
Manfred had regained most of his composure. "Because you find them in dungeons, towns burned to ashes and some of the stranger arcane colleges. We already tax dungeons, ruined towns have no one left to tax, and the colleges turn tax collectors into squirrels."
"Well, this little trip is looking more and more profitable. Old Cogsworthy owed me a favor this year, and I used it to take my pick of assignments. I'm happy the two of you were available to come with me." In a place as large as the empire, with thousands of tax agents going about their work using an antiquated system purposefully made to be obtuse and complicated, it was up to each agent or team to do their best to increase the imperial coffers. An increase in taxes from an area was rewarded by no one noticing how the agents lined their own pockets. Corruption started with the nobility and worked its way down society's pyramid. At the bottom were the serfs, peasants, and workers who didn't have any money or power. This was a typical trip by a group of agents. Each had a specialty, but it was safer to travel together and work over a local noble or mayor as a team.
Most trips were boring and barely profitable. This one was more of a fishing trip. Out-of-the-way villages often have ways to make money that aren't tied up yet, if you knew where to look.
Theordis had been encouraged by several people he had never met before (and a small bag of gold coins) to bring a team to Sedgewick and cause as much trouble as he could for the local Baron. The man had some enemies or rivals. As long as nothing he did broke the law, he and his team could claim "we were just doing our jobs." He had neglected to tell the others about his new friends, although he was sure Manfred suspected. He certainly hadn't mentioned the gold.
As they talked, a door opened, and smoke billowed out. A large man in a dark red leather apron emerged, holding a massive ham over each shoulder. The meat had been soaked in honey and salt, cured for a month in the smoke, and the hams were now wrapped in burlap. They could smell them, though, and their mouth's watered. The Butcher walked towards them, smiled, and nodded his head to them to show his respect. "Howdy folks, nice day. You'll have to excuse me. I have to take these hams over to the tavern and the inn. People have been asking for ham with their breakfasts, and I hate to keep hungry people waiting."
Geoffrey was trying to guess the weight of the hams. "A moment, my good man. Do you know the weight of those hams? They seem quite large."
Manfred's antics amused Geoffrey. "I admit that this is one of the last places I expected to find a Bank, but I fail to see the reason for theatrics. They make doing business much easier. When I set up an Imperial Storehouse here, it will make things much easier and more secure, doubly so if they ever grow their horde to enable transactions at Rowan Keep."
Theordis saw it differently. Geoffrey wasn't privy to some of the information he had. Easier banking and selling of goods was the last thing certain people wanted the Baron of Gadobhra to have. "There is a difference between a bank and a bank run by a gnome and claiming a connection with the gnomish banking system. Many gnomes work in imperial banks. Their race is known for their bankers and lawyers, among other professions. Having an actual Royal Bank here means more money is passing through the town than anyone in the accounting office suspected. One has to wonder what the Baron has done to earn something like this. Many other nobles have asked for such banks and have been turned down. It's suspicious."
Manfred agreed. "Baron Oakhurst has beseeched the Gnome King three times for a bank and never been approved. But an important detail: This isn't the Bank of Gadobhra. It's clearly stated as ' The Royal Gnomish Bank of Sedgewick.' That puts it under the control of the town's mayor, not the Baron. He's made an error in placing it here, gentlemen, rather than in his ruined city. It will be more useful here, for now, but he doesn't have direct control. We should visit the mayor before speaking to the Baron about the new tax on Contract Workers. I've yet to meet a mayor that didn't mind a little extra gold coming their way."
As the group went to find the Mayor of Sedgewick, the proprietor of the eatery closed the window of her business and closed for the afternoon. She wasn't sure about some of the things the men had been talking about, but it sounded like business, and her friend Kallvek was always interested in what she overheard about business.
Most of the crew of the Splinter was finding the Conjunction a bit on the chilly side. The men wore long seamen's coats and hats over their work clothes. The one place all of them felt very comfortable was the big building where Ozzy smoked his meat. A smoky environment with chains and fire felt like home. The Charnel pit didn't bother with them. They were walking meat that was already smoked, as far as it was concerned.
Joe was amused at the whole thing, but Makken was annoyed. The party had mainly moved indoors, and he had to sit carefully by the doorway. He was also a little sad about the effect his last batch of strawberry surprise had on the crew. Each had taken a shot of the fermented chili juice and liked it. He wasn't used to people describing his drink as "smooth," "fruity," and "tasty." Still, they offered to pay good gold for every bottle he could make. But he was wracking his brains for how he could make things hotter for days. The answer turned out to be four tablespoons of gunpowder in each bottle. It didn't taste hotter to him, but when Captain Woodrat drank a shot, his eyes widened, his face turned red, and he belched smoke like an old cannon. He beat on his chest and then leaned back, fanning himself. The rest of the crew immediately lined up for shots.
A day later, one of the blacksmiths came to talk to him. Ozzy had mentioned the problem of keeping the ship's hull heated in the Conjunction. Rufus had some ideas.
"For starters, if your ship runs on smoke and heat, we should park it above this belching monstrosity. It's constantly putting out heated air and smoke. We can fix the problem of loading and unloading cargo with a timber framework on the side of the building and a cargo platform with a block and tackle. There will always be enough strong people around to raise and lower it. I'll put anchor points on each corner of the building for you to run chains to, and you'll have a secure mooring for your ship every time you come into port."
Woodrat liked the idea. "Maybe put a hatch up top. Be fun to jump down into the building and swing down by the chains." Rufus added a hatch to his drawings but added 'crazy' to his notes about the captain from the Smoke.
"My other idea is a small stove that can transfer heat directly to your ship's hull. I'll insulate around it so the ship's wood won't catch fire, and then you can burn wood or coal to generate heat while you're here."
The crew smiled and laughed at the notion. Woodrat shook his head. "Sorry to tell you, mate, but that's not how things work. I'm not sure what coal is, but wood doesn't burn. That's just silly. Wood floats."
Rufus said nothing but walked to a tree, pulled off a branch, and lit it on fire with a cantrip. He used the burning branch to start a larger fire with sticks of wood. Woodrat looked on, amazed. Then he took a piece of burning wood and held it. The wood quit burning and turned black and shiny. "Try burning this." Rufus tried, but nothing he could do would get the wood to catch fire again. Understanding came to him. "All the wood in the Smoke is infused with smoke. It doesn't catch fire." Woodrat was looking at the piles of oak that would be loaded in the Splinter. "Virgin wood, untouched. I wonder what the Nobles on the islands would pay for that? Chairs from the Conjunction may be the next rage. Now tell me more about your idea, Rufus, and show me what coal is?"
Please report us if you find any errors so we can fix it asap!
Chapter 265: Business Lunch
As Geoffrey returned from looking at the flying ship, Manfred noticed his pace was quick, and his brow furrowed. "Let me guess, you saw something interesting and are trying to figure out how to make money off it?"
Geoffrey looked up; that had indeed been a close guess. "Manfred, my old friend, you have a good sense of what an item is worth owing to your high level of Identification. Would you do me the favor of telling me something about that building?" He pointed to a large building with several chimneys. Manfred obliged him, walking toward it until he saw the signs. He stopped, stared at it, and slowly backed away, treating it like a dangerous animal you couldn't turn your back on. Regaining the group's safety and with two guards between him and the building, he let out the breath he was holding.
He screamed at Geoffrey, "You could have warned me!"
Geoffrey tried to look innocent. "But I wanted your honest opinion without my input."
Manfred stifled several retorts and then answered the original question. "It's a Hellpit! A literal Hellpit. The work of a Charnel Demon and capable of holding a man for torture and using his soul as fuel. And it...ah...well, it also appears to be curing hams." He took another glance at it. "And frighteningly, it's a Tier 4 Hellpit. How does a Town barely into the second Tier acquire such a thing? Is it inhabited? And what sort of demon could the town be harboring? I'm not sure how to even tax it!"
Theordis was astonished to hear such a statement from Manfred. "How could it not be listed in the tax code?" L1tLagoon witnessed the first publication of this chapter on Ñøv€l--B1n.
Manfred had regained most of his composure. "Because you find them in dungeons, towns burned to ashes and some of the stranger arcane colleges. We already tax dungeons, ruined towns have no one left to tax, and the colleges turn tax collectors into squirrels."
"Well, this little trip is looking more and more profitable. Old Cogsworthy owed me a favor this year, and I used it to take my pick of assignments. I'm happy the two of you were available to come with me." In a place as large as the empire, with thousands of tax agents going about their work using an antiquated system purposefully made to be obtuse and complicated, it was up to each agent or team to do their best to increase the imperial coffers. An increase in taxes from an area was rewarded by no one noticing how the agents lined their own pockets. Corruption started with the nobility and worked its way down society's pyramid. At the bottom were the serfs, peasants, and workers who didn't have any money or power. This was a typical trip by a group of agents. Each had a specialty, but it was safer to travel together and work over a local noble or mayor as a team.
Most trips were boring and barely profitable. This one was more of a fishing trip. Out-of-the-way villages often have ways to make money that aren't tied up yet, if you knew where to look.
Theordis had been encouraged by several people he had never met before (and a small bag of gold coins) to bring a team to Sedgewick and cause as much trouble as he could for the local Baron. The man had some enemies or rivals. As long as nothing he did broke the law, he and his team could claim "we were just doing our jobs." He had neglected to tell the others about his new friends, although he was sure Manfred suspected. He certainly hadn't mentioned the gold.
As they talked, a door opened, and smoke billowed out. A large man in a dark red leather apron emerged, holding a massive ham over each shoulder. The meat had been soaked in honey and salt, cured for a month in the smoke, and the hams were now wrapped in burlap. They could smell them, though, and their mouth's watered. The Butcher walked towards them, smiled, and nodded his head to them to show his respect. "Howdy folks, nice day. You'll have to excuse me. I have to take these hams over to the tavern and the inn. People have been asking for ham with their breakfasts, and I hate to keep hungry people waiting."
Geoffrey was trying to guess the weight of the hams. "A moment, my good man. Do you know the weight of those hams? They seem quite large."
Manfred's antics amused Geoffrey. "I admit that this is one of the last places I expected to find a Bank, but I fail to see the reason for theatrics. They make doing business much easier. When I set up an Imperial Storehouse here, it will make things much easier and more secure, doubly so if they ever grow their horde to enable transactions at Rowan Keep."
Theordis saw it differently. Geoffrey wasn't privy to some of the information he had. Easier banking and selling of goods was the last thing certain people wanted the Baron of Gadobhra to have. "There is a difference between a bank and a bank run by a gnome and claiming a connection with the gnomish banking system. Many gnomes work in imperial banks. Their race is known for their bankers and lawyers, among other professions. Having an actual Royal Bank here means more money is passing through the town than anyone in the accounting office suspected. One has to wonder what the Baron has done to earn something like this. Many other nobles have asked for such banks and have been turned down. It's suspicious."
Manfred agreed. "Baron Oakhurst has beseeched the Gnome King three times for a bank and never been approved. But an important detail: This isn't the Bank of Gadobhra. It's clearly stated as ' The Royal Gnomish Bank of Sedgewick.' That puts it under the control of the town's mayor, not the Baron. He's made an error in placing it here, gentlemen, rather than in his ruined city. It will be more useful here, for now, but he doesn't have direct control. We should visit the mayor before speaking to the Baron about the new tax on Contract Workers. I've yet to meet a mayor that didn't mind a little extra gold coming their way."
As the group went to find the Mayor of Sedgewick, the proprietor of the eatery closed the window of her business and closed for the afternoon. She wasn't sure about some of the things the men had been talking about, but it sounded like business, and her friend Kallvek was always interested in what she overheard about business.
Most of the crew of the Splinter was finding the Conjunction a bit on the chilly side. The men wore long seamen's coats and hats over their work clothes. The one place all of them felt very comfortable was the big building where Ozzy smoked his meat. A smoky environment with chains and fire felt like home. The Charnel pit didn't bother with them. They were walking meat that was already smoked, as far as it was concerned.
Joe was amused at the whole thing, but Makken was annoyed. The party had mainly moved indoors, and he had to sit carefully by the doorway. He was also a little sad about the effect his last batch of strawberry surprise had on the crew. Each had taken a shot of the fermented chili juice and liked it. He wasn't used to people describing his drink as "smooth," "fruity," and "tasty." Still, they offered to pay good gold for every bottle he could make. But he was wracking his brains for how he could make things hotter for days. The answer turned out to be four tablespoons of gunpowder in each bottle. It didn't taste hotter to him, but when Captain Woodrat drank a shot, his eyes widened, his face turned red, and he belched smoke like an old cannon. He beat on his chest and then leaned back, fanning himself. The rest of the crew immediately lined up for shots.
A day later, one of the blacksmiths came to talk to him. Ozzy had mentioned the problem of keeping the ship's hull heated in the Conjunction. Rufus had some ideas.
"For starters, if your ship runs on smoke and heat, we should park it above this belching monstrosity. It's constantly putting out heated air and smoke. We can fix the problem of loading and unloading cargo with a timber framework on the side of the building and a cargo platform with a block and tackle. There will always be enough strong people around to raise and lower it. I'll put anchor points on each corner of the building for you to run chains to, and you'll have a secure mooring for your ship every time you come into port."
Woodrat liked the idea. "Maybe put a hatch up top. Be fun to jump down into the building and swing down by the chains." Rufus added a hatch to his drawings but added 'crazy' to his notes about the captain from the Smoke.
"My other idea is a small stove that can transfer heat directly to your ship's hull. I'll insulate around it so the ship's wood won't catch fire, and then you can burn wood or coal to generate heat while you're here."
The crew smiled and laughed at the notion. Woodrat shook his head. "Sorry to tell you, mate, but that's not how things work. I'm not sure what coal is, but wood doesn't burn. That's just silly. Wood floats."
Rufus said nothing but walked to a tree, pulled off a branch, and lit it on fire with a cantrip. He used the burning branch to start a larger fire with sticks of wood. Woodrat looked on, amazed. Then he took a piece of burning wood and held it. The wood quit burning and turned black and shiny. "Try burning this." Rufus tried, but nothing he could do would get the wood to catch fire again. Understanding came to him. "All the wood in the Smoke is infused with smoke. It doesn't catch fire." Woodrat was looking at the piles of oak that would be loaded in the Splinter. "Virgin wood, untouched. I wonder what the Nobles on the islands would pay for that? Chairs from the Conjunction may be the next rage. Now tell me more about your idea, Rufus, and show me what coal is?"
Chapter 265: Business LunchAs Geoffrey returned from looking at the flying ship, Manfred noticed his pace was quick, and his brow furrowed. "Let me guess, you saw something interesting and are trying to figure out how to make money off it?"Geoffrey looked up; that had indeed been a close guess. "Manfred, my old friend, you have a good sense of what an item is worth owing to your high level of Identification. Would you do me the favor of telling me something about that building?" He pointed to a large building with several chimneys. Manfred obliged him, walking toward it until he saw the signs. He stopped, stared at it, and slowly backed away, treating it like a dangerous animal you couldn't turn your back on. Regaining the group's safety and with two guards between him and the building, he let out the breath he was holding.He screamed at Geoffrey, "You could have warned me!"Geoffrey tried to look innocent. "But I wanted your honest opinion without my input."Manfred stifled several retorts and then answered the original question. "It's a Hellpit! A literal Hellpit. The work of a Charnel Demon and capable of holding a man for torture and using his soul as fuel. And it...ah...well, it also appears to be curing hams." He took another glance at it. "And frighteningly, it's a Tier 4 Hellpit. How does a Town barely into the second Tier acquire such a thing? Is it inhabited? And what sort of demon could the town be harboring? I'm not sure how to even tax it!"Theordis was astonished to hear such a statement from Manfred. "How could it not be listed in the tax code?" L1tLagoon witnessed the first publication of this chapter on Nvl--B1n.Manfred had regained most of his composure. "Because you find them in dungeons, towns burned to ashes and some of the stranger arcane colleges. We already tax dungeons, ruined towns have no one left to tax, and the colleges turn tax collectors into squirrels.""Well, this little trip is looking more and more profitable. Old Cogsworthy owed me a favor this year, and I used it to take my pick of assignments. I'm happy the two of you were available to come with me." In a place as large as the empire, with thousands of tax agents going about their work using an antiquated system purposefully made to be obtuse and complicated, it was up to each agent or team to do their best to increase the imperial coffers. An increase in taxes from an area was rewarded by no one noticing how the agents lined their own pockets. Corruption started with the nobility and worked its way down society's pyramid. At the bottom were the serfs, peasants, and workers who didn't have any money or power. This was a typical trip by a group of agents. Each had a specialty, but it was safer to travel together and work over a local noble or mayor as a team.Most trips were boring and barely profitable. This one was more of a fishing trip. Out-of-the-way villages often have ways to make money that aren't tied up yet, if you knew where to look.Theordis had been encouraged by several people he had never met before and a small bag of gold coins to bring a team to Sedgewick and cause as much trouble as he could for the local Baron. The man had some enemies or rivals. As long as nothing he did broke the law, he and his team could claim "we were just doing our jobs." He had neglected to tell the others about his new friends, although he was sure Manfred suspected. He certainly hadn't mentioned the gold.As they talked, a door opened, and smoke billowed out. A large man in a dark red leather apron emerged, holding a massive ham over each shoulder. The meat had been soaked in honey and salt, cured for a month in the smoke, and the hams were now wrapped in burlap. They could smell them, though, and their mouth's watered. The Butcher walked towards them, smiled, and nodded his head to them to show his respect. "Howdy folks, nice day. You'll have to excuse me. I have to take these hams over to the tavern and the inn. People have been asking for ham with their breakfasts, and I hate to keep hungry people waiting."Geoffrey was trying to guess the weight of the hams. "A moment, my good man. Do you know the weight of those hams? They seem quite large." Manfred's antics amused Geoffrey. "I admit that this is one of the last places I expected to find a Bank, but I fail to see the reason for theatrics. They make doing business much easier. When I set up an Imperial Storehouse here, it will make things much easier and more secure, doubly so if they ever grow their horde to enable transactions at Rowan Keep."Theordis saw it differently. Geoffrey wasn't privy to some of the information he had. Easier banking and selling of goods was the last thing certain people wanted the Baron of Gadobhra to have. "There is a difference between a bank and a bank run by a gnome and claiming a connection with the gnomish banking system. Many gnomes work in imperial banks. Their race is known for their bankers and lawyers, among other professions. Having an actual Royal Bank here means more money is passing through the town than anyone in the accounting office suspected. One has to wonder what the Baron has done to earn something like this. Many other nobles have asked for such banks and have been turned down. It's suspicious."Manfred agreed. "Baron Oakhurst has beseeched the Gnome King three times for a bank and never been approved. But an important detail: This isn't the Bank of Gadobhra. It's clearly stated as ' The Royal Gnomish Bank of Sedgewick.' That puts it under the control of the town's mayor, not the Baron. He's made an error in placing it here, gentlemen, rather than in his ruined city. It will be more useful here, for now, but he doesn't have direct control. We should visit the mayor before speaking to the Baron about the new tax on Contract Workers. I've yet to meet a mayor that didn't mind a little extra gold coming their way."As the group went to find the Mayor of Sedgewick, the proprietor of the eatery closed the window of her business and closed for the afternoon. She wasn't sure about some of the things the men had been talking about, but it sounded like business, and her friend Kallvek was always interested in what she overheard about business.Most of the crew of the Splinter was finding the Conjunction a bit on the chilly side. The men wore long seamen's coats and hats over their work clothes. The one place all of them felt very comfortable was the big building where Ozzy smoked his meat. A smoky environment with chains and fire felt like home. The Charnel pit didn't bother with them. They were walking meat that was already smoked, as far as it was concerned.Joe was amused at the whole thing, but Makken was annoyed. The party had mainly moved indoors, and he had to sit carefully by the doorway. He was also a little sad about the effect his last batch of strawberry surprise had on the crew. Each had taken a shot of the fermented chili juice and liked it. He wasn't used to people describing his drink as "smooth," "fruity," and "tasty." Still, they offered to pay good gold for every bottle he could make. But he was wracking his brains for how he could make things hotter for days. The answer turned out to be four tablespoons of gunpowder in each bottle. It didn't taste hotter to him, but when Captain Woodrat drank a shot, his eyes widened, his face turned red, and he belched smoke like an old cannon. He beat on his chest and then leaned back, fanning himself. The rest of the crew immediately lined up for shots.A day later, one of the blacksmiths came to talk to him. Ozzy had mentioned the problem of keeping the ship's hull heated in the Conjunction. Rufus had some ideas. "For starters, if your ship runs on smoke and heat, we should park it above this belching monstrosity. It's constantly putting out heated air and smoke. We can fix the problem of loading and unloading cargo with a timber framework on the side of the building and a cargo platform with a block and tackle. There will always be enough strong people around to raise and lower it. I'll put anchor points on each corner of the building for you to run chains to, and you'll have a secure mooring for your ship every time you come into port."Woodrat liked the idea. "Maybe put a hatch up top. Be fun to jump down into the building and swing down by the chains." Rufus added a hatch to his drawings but added 'crazy' to his notes about the captain from the Smoke. "My other idea is a small stove that can transfer heat directly to your ship's hull. I'll insulate around it so the ship's wood won't catch fire, and then you can burn wood or coal to generate heat while you're here."The crew smiled and laughed at the notion. Woodrat shook his head. "Sorry to tell you, mate, but that's not how things work. I'm not sure what coal is, but wood doesn't burn. That's just silly. Wood floats."Rufus said nothing but walked to a tree, pulled off a branch, and lit it on fire with a cantrip. He used the burning branch to start a larger fire with sticks of wood. Woodrat looked on, amazed. Then he took a piece of burning wood and held it. The wood quit burning and turned black and shiny. "Try burning this." Rufus tried, but nothing he could do would get the wood to catch fire again. Understanding came to him. "All the wood in the Smoke is infused with smoke. It doesn't catch fire." Woodrat was looking at the piles of oak that would be loaded in the Splinter. "Virgin wood, untouched. I wonder what the Nobles on the islands would pay for that? Chairs from the Conjunction may be the next rage. Now tell me more about your idea, Rufus, and show me what coal is?"
