Book 2: Chapter 1: The Tax Man Cometh

Book 2: Chapter 1: The Tax Man Cometh

I, Peter Roughtuff, co-owner of Whistlemop’s Wonders and the Thirsty Goat Brewpub, reincarnated human from Canada, and Chosen Shaker of the God Barck, was having a bad day.

A terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. The kind people wrote children’s books about. My beard was frizzing, a goat had eaten half my breakfast, and my office was being attacked by a horrible monster that spoke in arcane riddles. A sphinx that taxed my patience and my business. I was on the Highway to Hell.

“If you’d please examine Column B on Form #244A2 you’ll see that the numbers from Columns C and Y on Form #244A1 have been added incorrectly.” The gnome seated in front of me pointed at a column filled with math, which looked identical to all the other columns and pages filled with math. “The number is far too high, and it is increasing your tax bracket considerably.”

For the tenth time today, I considered pointing out that as the Chosen of a God, I had deity bestowed duties involving the brewing of alcohol to get to. And for the tenth time today, I dismissed it as a terrible plan - no matter how delicious it would be to watch the egghead from City Hall fall over in shock.

“Hello? Here?” The white haired gnome in a plain-grey pinstripe business suit pointed insistently at the page.

I dragged myself closer and peered at it bleary-eyed. We’d been at this for a couple days already, and I was close to being driven to drink. A feat, considering the horrid taste of dwarven brew.

“Looks like numbers.” I muttered.

The gnome, an actual Titled [Accountant] named Silverpen sighed. “Mr. Roughtuff, I understand this is your first time performing business taxes in the country of Crack. That is partly why City Hall has assigned me in particular to your case. I assure you that with a little more effort the forms are more than easy to understand. Here, [Bestow Clarity].”

A blue box popped into my vision with a *Bing!*

Milestone Used

An [Accountant] is trying to grant you the [Calm] Condition.

Do you accept?

Yes/No

I hit yes and another box popped up. *Bing!*

Condition Gained: [Calm]!

You have gained the [Calm] Condition!

I felt the tension drain out of my temples, and the world snapped into focus.

I looked around my desk in the small corner office of the Thirsty Goat Brewpub. Every inch of it was covered in paperwork, and there were even piles on the floor that reached my knee. Ugh, what a mess. Maybe I could let Penelope handle it? She’d eat all this math right up. Literally, just like my breakfast. She was the finest pilfering goat I’d ever met.

Back in the Okanagan, I’d left everything to my accountant, Jebediah. Between him and all the fancy tax tools provided by the Canadian government, tax time was easy - if annoyingly expensive. My dear Caroline always said that I was a bit of a grizzly bear during tax time, but who wasn’t?

In dwarven society, everyone had to get a yearly audit. A yearly, freaking, audit - for the big companies, anyway. And with my business empire stretching to include nearly all the bottle-making in Minnova, a chunk of the local beer business, and a thriving brewpub, I counted as big enough. According to Silverpen, my taxes were ‘extra exciting’ because they involved two entirely disparate businesses. Furthermore, a significant portion of it was owed to the city for licensing their coat of arms, as well as for owning a Main Store in the local Grand Market.

I’d begged Annie to help me with it, but she’d refused. She had ‘important business to attend to regarding personnel hiring in the brewpub’ and I ‘needed the experience.’ I didn’t need [Truespeech] like Aqua to know that was a load of baloney. She just wanted to watch me squirm. She didn’t get an audit, as the Thirsty Goat Brewpub alone wasn’t quite big enough to warrant one. I know Whistlemop did, and my weasley little business partner had spent the last month trying to bury his money in tax-deductible investments. He was looking forward to seeing how much stayed hidden from his auditor. I’d been too preoccupied to do so, and was now paying the price.

All told, I was going to be paying well over half of my considerable income in taxes.

I took a deep breath and used this precious moment of [Calm] to focus on the task at hand. Well, that and my handy dandy Ability [Mental Maths], which gave me an additional four points to intelligence when doing math.

I pointed at the column Silverpen had circled. “That number is combined from Columns C and Y, but it also includes Column A from Form #13325. Here.” I leafed through the papers on my desk and passed one to the nerdy gnome.

He took it with a look of slight surprise and read it over. “Fascinating. I’ve never actually met someone with income from a City Indenture Early Release before. My goodness, this is quite a lot of gold. What on Erd did you make, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“The city of Minnova is currently in the midst of a boomin’ trade in Boomdust thanks to yours truly.” I knocked my fist against my chest in a dwarven salute. It *tunked* against the leather padding inside my armoured suit. Even after two years, I still wasn’t quite used to the dwarven penchant for wearing armour everywhere.

Status: Provided by the Firmament

Name: Peter Roughtuff

Age: 50

Conditions: [Blessed]

Race: Dwarf

Blessings: [Flesh to Stone], [Flash of Insight], [Strength of All: Held], [Regeneration], [Minimap], [Refine Brew]

Title: [Otherworldly Brewer]

Milestones: [Power Pick], [Basic Slash], [White Lie], [Mental Maths], [Big Money], [Bottomless Barrel]

Strength: 15.4

Vitality: 19 [23]

Agility: 12

Dexterity: 13

Wisdom: 14.4

Intelligence: 14

Perception: 18.2

Charisma: 15

No more Milestones unfortunately, but I could feel it in my bones that I was getting close to getting some more!

I was really starting to notice the difference of a higher perception and charisma - especially when it came to interpersonal relationships. I always seemed to know the right thing to say, and I could spot small inconsistencies and lies much more easily.

For example, from the way Silverpen was shifting from foot to foot and making slight glances in my direction, I could tell he either A) needed to leave to use the bathroom, B) was attracted to me and working up the courage to confess, or C) wanted a favour but was afraid of asking. Option C was the most likely, unless Silverpen had a dashing and debonair dwarf fetish I was unaware of.

I decided to make things a little easier on him, “You've been an amazing help, Silverpen, and I really appreciate the time you took to teach me the ropes. If there’s any way I can make it up to you let me know.”

Silverpen’s face grew gaunt, “I am unable to accept bribes Mr. Roughtuff, or accept anything that could call my impartiality into question.”

“Of course! I wasn’t thinking of anything so crude as a bribe! However, if I could get you a bottle of beer as you leave, or a piece of our memorabilia, surely no-one would begrudge you something like that.”

“Unfortunately the Ordinances are quite clear that City Hall employees cannot receive anything with a monetary value exceeding a single gold.” Silverpen fidgeted, ”However, I would be interested in one thing...”

“Feel free to ask, I’m happy to provide just about anything.”

“It’s small, but I noticed it while we were sitting in your office, and I’ve been desperate to get my hands on it for a while now...”

Wow, with a line like that I really, really, hoped it wasn’t Option B.