In the dusty, sun-baked confines of Canyon City, a lucrative proposition hung heavily in the air, one involving the sale of tens of thousands of slaves. The potential for profit was immense.
Logan, stood before a reticent Wolf Beastman slave trader. His patience fraying, he leaned forward, his voice cold and precise. "Consider the offer carefully. Should you find the terms agreeable, dispatch a representative to the Kasha Hotel. Do so before the day after tomorrow. Failing that, I shall seek out other parties willing to seize this opportunity."
With those final words, Logan swung the door wide and strode out, his cloak billowing behind him, not once glancing back at the still-seated Wolf Beastman.
The Wolf Beastman's mind raced as he watched Logan depart. The scale of the deal was daunting; caution seemed his only ally in these uncertain times.
As Logan navigated the dimly lit corridor of the dingy building, he paused, his gaze falling upon two formidable sixth-level werewolves. A sly grin spread across his face. "What say you two join me? I'm prepared to offer double what that fool inside pays you."
He continued, his invitation extending to the gathered beastmens of varying ranks. "Find me at the Kasha Hotel if you're interested."
With his offer hanging in the air, Logan left the building alongside his companions, Titon and Cardia. The group of werewolves and beastmens watched them disappear into the distance, their expressions a mix of intrigue and apprehension.
Meanwhile, the Wolf Beastman slave trader had already set another plan in motion. He lounged on an aged sofa, his voice carrying across the room to his subordinate. "Fetch me the fat fox slave trader. I need insights on that man Logan."
Soon, the fat fox was recounting what he knew. "Logan owns the Kasha Hotel, recently converted from a restaurant. He's been buying up property all around, refurbishing them extensively. Every couple of weeks, large shipments are discreetly moved out."
"He mostly deals with two merchants, a lion man and Fisher Greymane, the largest grain merchant in the vicinity," the fox continued, his brow furrowed in thought.
"Greymane?" The Wolf Beastman's ears perked up, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. "From the Lord of Storms' family?"
"Exactly," confirmed the fat fox, nodding earnestly.
The Wolf Beastman slave trader leaned back, his mind whirling with the possibilities. The Storm Mercenaries, under the banner of the Lord of Storms, had recently regained notoriety, sweeping through the southern Tara Hill and dispelling all major threats. This new connection to Logan could mean significant shifts in power and profit, necessitating a careful, strategic approach in the days to come.
"Is Corvinus truly linked to the Greymane lineage?" murmured the Wolf Beastman slave owner, his brow furrowed in contemplation.
The enigmatic dealings of the Greymane family had always intrigued him, especially their recent, substantial acquisitions of slaves. This curiosity was magnified by the Storm Mercenaries' recent exploits. Known as the "Justice Group" among the merchant circles for their cleansing of bandit groups from the southern trails of Tara Hill, their reputation was formidable.
"Sir Fisher, as you are aware, we operate several ventures within the human kingdoms. We are prepared to bring all these enterprises under your leadership, should you honor us with your acceptance," Parks continued, his voice steady despite the gravity of his offer.
The other beastmens exchanged glances, their expressions tinged with a melancholy acceptance of parting with their independent businesses. Yet, the potential alliance with the powerful Greymane family spurred them on.
"And may I inquire as to why you choose this path?" Fisher asked, his smile hinting at his curiosity about their significant sacrifice.
Parks hesitated, his resolve firming as he met Fisher's gaze. "Because, Sir, I aspire to be your next customer, the next patron of your esteemed liquors."
This revelation laid bare their ultimate goal: unable to procure directly from the distillers, they sought Fisher as an intermediary, a strategic move to secure their supply.
Fisher nodded, appreciating the shrewdness of these merchants. Their survival and prosperity around Canyon City spoke volumes of their acumen.
Considering the potential benefits, Fisher decided to reveal a part of his own strategic alliances. "I have an arrangement with the Wind Walker Chamber of Commerce," he began, gauging their reactions to the name of this commercial titan.
The mention of the Wind Walker Chamber of Commerce sent a ripple of surprise through the beastmens. They were well aware of the conglomerate's clout but hadn't anticipated Fisher's direct connection.
"Reflect on this," Fisher proposed, his tone encouraging yet candid. "Should you decide to join, I can facilitate your role as downstream distributors of our liquor. However, be advised, the profit margins may not be as high as you're accustomed to."
The realization dawned on Parks and his companions. Competing against such a formidable entity would be foolhardy. Aligning with Fisher, even with thinner profits, offered a sustainable future.
"We accept, Mr. Fisher!" Parks declared, the decision unanimous among his peers. They understood that even a modest share in Fisher's expansive trade network would sustain them.
"Very well, I welcome you aboard," Fisher replied, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. "Together, we will expand our reach."
The beastmens bowed deeply, their voices in unison, "We are at your service, Master Fisher!"
Fisher's strategic foresight had not only secured him loyal allies but also clever entrepreneurs who would undoubtedly prove valuable in the sprawling markets of the human kingdoms.