Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Five. Taxation.

Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Five. Taxation.

Thidwell read through the missive a second time, his frown deepening.

Rogard sat stiffly on the other side of his desk.

"So," Thidwell rumbled as he looked down at the nobleman in front of him, "you're here to strangle Holmstead's, choking as much wealth as you can form us," he sneered.

"I've been assigned, by the King," Rogard began, "to collect his newly instituted tax, which is five percent, a significant reduction, you'll note, from his previous twenty percent."

Thidwell snorted, "Yes, very gracious of him to only steal five percent of our wealth," he raised a hand to forestall Rogard, who had opened his mouth to reply. "In three hundred years, neither Harbordeep nor the King has offered any aid or relief to Holmstead," the big man growled over his desk, "So to be clear, this is larceny writ large, with all the subtlety of a tier seven beating down a tier five."The source of this content nov(el)bi((n))

Rogard paused before replying. "I am aware that the King's subjects outside of Harbordeep haven't enjoyed the same degree of protection as those who sheltered behind those walls; however, you can rest assured that Holmstead will now be guarded by the House of Wallenstair."

Thidwell jabbed a finger at the missive on his desk, "And how much will that cost us? I can read, and the bit there about providing a tithe for the maintenance of the Noble house assigned to assess the King's Tax is suspiciously vague," he said vehemently, "so tell me how much you'll be draining from Holmstead to support your house?"

"Initially," Rogard said cautiously, "I'm expecting that I'll need one hundred mana crystals every two months," he raised his hands as Thidwell growled, "until such time as the Dungeon has been driven deeply enough that I'm able to delve for crystals on my own, at which point I'll not require or request any."

"The Dungeon is thirty-four floors deep," Thidwell replied coldly.

"Once you've driven it down four more floors, I'll be able to delve for crystals," Rogard said calmly.

Thidwells eyebrows rose at that statement.

"The King," Rogard said quietly, "is quite serious about ensuring not only the prosperity but also the safety of the cities and towns outside of Harbordeep."

Thidwell leaned back slightly and motioned for him to continue.

"I pushed into tier seven before I left Harbordeep to ensure that I'd be able to protect Holmstead," Rogard paused, and his form twisted, revealing a man nearly Thidwell's equal in height if of a slimmer build. Rogard's brown eyes had become faceted agates, and his skin had taken on the texture of sandstone.

"Make no mistake," Rogard said, his voice low, the sound of grinding stone, "my presence will be pivotal during wave or tide."

Thidwell nodded reluctantly before replying, "I take it you have a path that takes advantage of, and requires, an Affinity Crystal?"

Rogard sat silently.

Thidwell chuckled, a wicked, rasping sound. "That Geas is infuriating, isn't it?"

"The Adventurers Guild will pay the Tax," Thidwell rumbled, "as for your expenses, I'll attempt to drive the Dungeon down deeply enough to see if you're telling the truth about taking care of your own needs."

Raising his hand again, Thidwell continued, "I've little trust within me and none for the Nobles of Harbordeep. You'll need to prove your intentions and your worth."

Frowning over the missive, he thrust the parchment back across the desk, motioning for Rogard to take it.

"I'd wish you well in your quest to steal from the people of Holmstead, but I simply can't," Thidwell finished, "so instead, I'll tell you to get out of my office."

Rogard entered the tavern, having assumed human form again as he walked down the stairs.

He was going over the conversation in his mind, attempting to identify the point at which everything had gone so wrong.

Rogard couldn't remember the last time someone of a lower-tier had demonstrated such blatant hostility. He'd shifted to his true form, and even that hadn't cowed the man. He didn't like to throw his tier around and endeavored to always treat others with respect, but knowing that he could had been a weight in the corner of his mind.

A voice tugged him out of his introspection, and he turned, seeing his daughter and her shepherd approaching him.

"Father," Nora said with a trace of a smile, "what are you doing back here?"

Bob nodded his head towards him, acknowledging his presence, as his eyes cast about the tavern, clearly looking for someone.

"I'm sure the word will spread like a wave," he sighed, "I've been sent by the King to assess a five percent tax here in Holmstead."

Nora frowned, "Better than twenty, I suppose," she muttered

"A point I tried to make to Thidwell," Rogard agreed sadly, "although I think he'd rather there was no tax levied at all."

As they entered the mausoleum that housed the Dungeon, he nodded respectfully to Austan.

"We're heading down to the third floor," Jakob said, "we expect to be down for four hours."

Austan flipped open his ledger and quickly jotted down their names and the floor and length of their delve.

"Those potions should serve you well," Austan noted with a smile, indicating the potions that rested in the bandolier that each member of the group wore, "but if you need aid, I'll be here."

Jakob nodded gratefully, then paused. "Is there anyone else on the third floor?" he asked.

Austan shook his head, "Not at the moment."

Jakob headed down to the Gateway, where he pressed his token to the ring and then watched as his group walked through before following them.

A brackish scent assailed him as he stepped through, and he coughed.

"They did warn us that this floor was a swamp," Luci chided him, though Jakob noticed that she was crinkling her nose as well.

Jakob walked a few paces forward, then spotted what appeared to be a dry patch of ground. Or at least not submerged.

"Let's set up there," he gestured, then started sloshing through the murky sludge.

The group had made it fifteen feet, nearly halfway to their destination, when Jakob caught a flash of movement from his left and was able, barely, to dodge the barbed tongue that had lashed out at his face.

"Left!" he called out as his eyes tracked the tongue as it returned to its owner, guiding his mana into the form of an Ice Blast that followed the tongue and impacted the partially submerged frog.

Fire, Acid, and Lightning followed suit, and the monstrous frog lurched forward, strips of rubbery flesh hanging in tatters, the muscles beneath blackened and charred.

As it leaped, its cruelly barbed tongue flicked out, and as Jakob attempted to dodge, he felt his foot catch on something under the murky water, and he knew he wasn't going to avoid the strike.

An Eldritch Shield flared to life around him just before the blow landed, softening it and dulling the momentum, allowing his armor to absorb the remaining energy of the blow. However, it left deep scratches on his armored shoulder.

His mana flowed into the pattern for an Ice Blast again when a bellow sounded, and a bear appeared behind the frog, lunging forward in a rush of filthy water, latching onto the monster.

All four elemental strikes landed, their combined power ending the threat.

"Well done," Jakob congratulated his team, "Zoey, can you have your bear drag the frog over here in case it drops a crystal?"

Bob leaned back as he watched a pack of Jakes tear apart another Hipenake.

He looked out over the dry landscape and took another sip from his canteen.

Monroe was sprawled beside his chair, napping in the cool environment provided by the pavilion. The big Maine-Coone had spent a few minutes soaking up the sun but had ultimately decided it was just too hot to lay out there.

Bob agreed.

His UtahRaptors certainly seemed to love it, though, and over the past five hours, he'd killed over thirty thousand monsters. He was slowly pushing his way through the level sixty-five barrier on his summon mana-infused creature spell, as well as pushing through the level thirty-seven barrier on his Eldritch Blast spell.

Unfortunately, it was going to take another fifty delves to push his UtahRaptor through that threshold.

On a more positive note, he'd picked up another four hundred and eighteen mana crystals and three Conjuration Affinity Crystals, so it wasn't as if he was simply grinding his skills up.

Bob was quickly approaching the point where he'd have to make a decision. Should he remain tier five for a bit longer, farming Affinity Crystals, or should he apotheosis to tier six and then rush to level thirty-six?

On the one hand, Affinity Crystals.

On the other, he desperately needed the Parry or Dodge skill, along with Armor and a subtype. His defenses were sorely lacking.

With a sigh, Bob stood up and stretched, then started packing away his chair. He still had a few more delves before he reached the sixteen thousand crystals he needed, so that decision could wait for a while longer.

It was getting late, and he needed to feed Monroe and take a shower before crawling into bed.