Book 2: Chapter 18: Negotiations

Book 2: Chapter 18: Negotiations

Balin and I sat in anticipatory silence as Copperpot took a sip from the bottle on the table. He swirled the witbier around in his mouth for a moment, like a sommelier appreciating a particularly fine vintage of wine. He’d agreed that our plan was sound, but wanted to have a “taste of the goods” first.

He swallowed and nodded, then frowned, then quirked an eyebrow. An entire symphony of expressions crossed his face until it landed on perturbed.

Uh oh.

“It’s... good.” Copperpot said, and Balin and I sighed in relief. Copperpot held up a finger in response. “BUT.”

Balin wiped sweat from his brow. “That sounds like a big but."

“I don’t like big buts, I cannae lie,” I muttered.

Copperpot swirled the drink around in the bottle and stared through it. The glass flashed yellow and purple as the golden liquid inside spun in lazy circles. “It’s good, and I could see some of my people growing fond of it. But it’s just good.”

I groaned, but Balin looked confused.

“What’s tha problem, then?” Balin asked. “I’ve never heard of a gnome outside of Beatbox or a few others say tha Sacred Brew was anythin’ but cat-piss. ‘Fine’ is a big improvement!”

“It’s not goin' to be worth tha big pile of trouble that comes with it.” I explained, drumming my fingers on my beard.

“Yes. I do like the flavour, and the fizz is very fun, but a gnomish brewing subsidiary would have a massive target on it for any... shall we call them disaffecteds. If we're going to support you, it would need to be for something incredible. This is good,” Copperpot indicated the bottle, which he’d placed back on the coffee table, “but not amazing.”

“Ah.” Balin deflated. “Awwww.”

I smiled at my brother. He was just so innocent in some matters, while being more worldly than me in others. Well, that’s why teamwork makes the dream-work. I turned to Copperpot and crossed my arms. “Let’s skip a few steps and go straight to tha negotiation. What do ya want?”

Copperpot smiled sunnily. “I knew you’d understand.”

I scoffed. “I spend half my days with a gnome who’s one step short from a used carriage salesman.”

Copperpot laughed. “That’s an interesting expression.”

“I just made it up, but full disclosure - we’re in a pretty big hurry, Copperpot. We need ta get this done in three weeks if we’re gonna make our deadline.”

Copperpot raised an eyebrow. “You’re not supposed to reveal your hand like that in negotiations, Pete.”

I shook my head. “Our re-entry to the Brewers Guild and our chance at winning tha local Octamillenial Brewing Contest is contingent on this deal. If we don’t have some proven results in that time-frame, the entire exercise is pointless. And this has the potential to be big money - you have more to lose if ya walk away than we do. I can always find someone else and do this later, but winning that contest could open up tha Kinshasa market for us and any subsidiaries.” I stressed the last bit with a widening of my eyes.

Copperpot slumped back on the couch. “Ah, I see.” He spun the propeller on his beanie and narrowed his eyes, thinking. This chapter made its debut appearance via N0v3lB1n.

“I don’t.” Balin said, his eyes imploring.

“A short timeline puts us on the back foot in negotiations,” I said. “But disclosing it like this means Copperpot needs to decide today. It’s a high pressure sales tactic, like ‘limited time offer’ or ‘one chance only’. It puts the pressure on Copperpot, even though we are technically the ones with a crunch.”

Copperpot looked me up and down and gave a wry smile. “I’ve never heard those phrases, but I understand the gist of them. You realize that tactics like that are considered rude?”

I made a ‘perish the thought’ gesture. “Like I said, full disclosure. I want you to know what’s at stake here. You're our first choice, not our only choice.”

Yes / No

Balin released his Golden Armour to avoid gathering a crowd. “What now, Pete?”

“Now we leave the rest to Annie. Hopefully she’ll be able to handle the Guild.”

Balin smiled. “Ma Annie can handle anythin’.”

I looked his way, then glanced down and smirked. “Oh CAN she?”

Oof, dungeon delving had really improved Balin’s ability to hit a moving target.

—

Annie smiled up at the brown robed apprentice as he put a mug of ale down in front of her. Then she sneezed.

“Excuse me.” She said, politely wiping her nose on her sleeve. “I guess someone’s talking about me.”

“No no, it can get a bit dusty down here. I should have the apprentices start dusting at least once a week.” The dwarf across from her said. He was grey-haired, in an immaculate set of black [Brewer] armour. He had a set of incredibly large mutton-chops and a pair of piercing black eyes. Master Brewer Boulder Stonetusk was one of the few Dwarves Annie was positive would come around to her side eventually. He was a traditionalist, but also a realist, and a Dwarf of impeccable honour. He’d also known her from when she was still knee-high to a unigoat, and she’d spent her first few decades calling him Uncle Boulder, and Master Brewer Stonetusk after that.

Which was likely why he frowned and continued. “Goldstone, I do wish to apologize about the entire fiasco with your father. I admit that I was so blinded by my fears that I did not see the real harm I was causing to you and Jeremiah. I am very, deeply sorry, and ashamed of my actions.” He bowed deep in his chair, a plain wooden backed affair in his office deep below Stonetusk Brewery.

Annie crossed her legs, and shifted her gown to sit more comfortably around her thick leather boots. She’d found herself dressing up a bit more since her engagement to Balin. Why, she’d spent an Ungodsly amount of gold on her last shopping trip with Aqua. She had to admit that this dress in particular, with its billowing white sleeves and gold thread looked quite fetching on her, though Balin had said it looked more fetching off her. She coughed and got her mind back on topic.

“No Master Brewer, you were all quite masterfully manipulated by Browning. I don’t hold you responsible at all.”

Which was a polite fiction. She did indeed hold them responsible, and was even now considering frying up some mutton-chops. But giving him an out was the first step to repairing this particular bridge. If she held him to the fire he’d burn to a crisp and then she’d never get anything out of him.

Stonetusk shook his head. “That’s very kind young Annie, but I do owe your clan something.”

Annie noted the ‘Young Annie’ and shifted her tone to match his more familial attitude. “Oh Uncle Boulder, I don’t want you to fall to Yearn over it. What’s past is past, and the guilty party was suitably punished.”

Stonetusk took a drink of his own ale and looked far off into a distance only he could see. “How... how is Jeremiah?”

Annie’s voice grew a bit sharp, the thought of her Father’s betrayal cutting more thoroughly than any axe. That edge had dulled over the past few months, but it would likely never go away. “We’re working things out, but he still isn’t quite the same. How is Auntie Margerie? And the boys?”

Stonetusk focused back on Annie and smiled. “She’s doing quite well. She was just asking after you, actually.”

Annie led the old Brewer through some happy chatter about family and clans and the burdens of owning a Brewery. Stonetusk Brewery was quite a bit larger than the Thirsty Goat and served thousands more dwarves. The Brewery’s architecture was in line with what was usually called Mine Deco, with long twisting tunnels dug into the stone. This made for a somewhat drafty conversation.

Eventually Stonetusk harrumphed and came to the point. “It's been nice catching up, but I assume you asked for this meeting for a reason, Annie?”

Annie smiled sweetly and launched into her pitch. “Well, Uncle Boulder, I grew up hearing stories of the Brewer’s Guild and it always meant so much to me...”

Within the first minute Stonetusk was nodding along. By the end, he was openly weeping.

Annie left Stonetusk Brewery with a promise of support. One down, four more to go. She really hoped Pete was pulling his weight!