Before the Storm: Act 7, Chapter 10

Before the Storm: Act 7, Chapter 10

Chapter 10

“Stand still so I can kill you!” Countess Beaumont shrieked.

“Aiiiiieeeee!!!”

The shopkeeper let out a shriek of his own, falling backwards over his stool as the Countess sent a vicious slash over the store counter. She clicked her tongue in annoyance after finding no blood on her dagger. The shopkeeper tried to crawl out from behind his counter, but a pair of Reed’s men blocked the way.

“S-Spare me, m’lady!”

“You dare beg for mercy after what you’ve done?!”

“I didn’t do nothing wrong, m’lady!”

“M’lady this!”

Countess Beaumont lunged across the counter to take a stab at the shopkeeper. The attack fell far short of its target, though it did draw out another terrified screech. Standing at the entrance of the trading post, Olin could only shake his head wordlessly at the spectacle playing out before him.

While noblewomen were commonly known to execute cunning attacks against their enemies through political and economic intrigue, he couldn’t recall any instance where one would attack their enemies in personal combat. At best, their will would be carried out through the actions of their subordinates. As a whole, the noblewomen of the Kingdom were mostly harmless in the physical sense and were certainly nothing like the frenzied creature currently trying to crawl over the store’s counter to massacre the shopkeeper on the other side.

Olin wasn’t very familiar with Countess Beaumont, but he had managed to dig up some information about her from the local syndicate officers. Like several thousand other scions who unexpectedly found themselves as the new heads of their respective households, Countess Beaumont had been introduced to the so-called ‘Third Faction’ by Eight Fingers members who had ingratiated themselves with her late father and operated freely within the bounds of her fief. Unlike the vast majority of the faction’s members, however, she had been afforded an education appropriate to her social standing and political value as a marriage prospect.

In almost any other situation, this would be considered a good thing. In the Third Faction, however, it made her a troublemaker. Almost immediately upon joining, she began building her power base in Re-Blumrushur. Since the intended leadership of the faction was flimsy at best, this became an untenable threat to the plans laid out for it.

Thus, Countess Beaumont had been called away under the premise of her fief being in critical need of her attention. She wasn’t a unique case, either: every city had several members of the Third Faction – generally those who shared a similar situation as Countess Beaumont – who caused similar problems and were quietly carted off to their territories where they wouldn’t be able to pursue their political ambitions.

The sole notable difference between the Countess and her peers of a comparable level was the fact that, for some unfathomable reason, an agent from the Sorcerous Kingdom had taken an interest in her. What was the play? As far as he knew, there was nothing in the plan that said anything about letting Countess Beaumont run wild in her fief. Could it be that Liam had been seduced? Their interactions did seem to be far too familiar. A youth like him would be easy prey for a noblewoman.

I should have found a woman for him...

If only he had known sooner. Since Olin had been expecting some kind of monster, he was caught off guard and hadn’t made the correct preparations. With the Countess monopolising all of Liam’s time, opportunities to influence the agent were now few and far between for Olin. Realistically, his next chance to take control would be closer to the Re-Blumrushur, where he could borrow some skilled prostitutes or maybe fight fire with fire by throwing other noblewomen at him.

Until then, it was best to avoid attracting the wrong sort of attention. Once he had access to the right resources, he could knock Countess Beaumont off her high horse and lock her up in her manor.

“Lady Beaumont,” Liam said, “I think you’ve scared him enough.”

“Scared him?” Lady Beaumont sneered, “I meant to kill him!”

“This settlement only has one trading post,” Liam said. “If you kill the operator, what are the villagers going to do?”

The Countess flounced away from the shopkeeper and returned to Liam’s side. She retrieved some sort of book from her ‘maid’ – a wench who had crawled out of a Beaumont pub – and flipped it open to an empty page.

“This is preposterous,” she grumbled. “How could something like this happen for a prolonged period without word of it reaching the manor? Mister Reed, find the shop’s accounts.”

“I’ll do it,” Liam detached himself from the wall.

Olin frowned as he watched Liam disappear into the hallway behind the counter. He held a superior position to all of them, so why had he volunteered himself? Did he expect to find something valuable? Was he reinforcing his ties with Reed? Maybe he was one of the types that just had to be the first to see things.

Liam reappeared a minute later, carrying a box filled with sticks roughly the length of his forearm. He placed them on the counter in front of the Countess.

“These are the most recent ones, I think,” he said. “There’s a whole room filled with them back there.”

The Countess pulled one of the sticks out of the container, revealing the set of carvings along its length. As most of the population of Re-Estize was illiterate, the people usually relied on tallies carved out of wooden sticks like the one in the box. Each stick had a name carved into the handle and was divided into sections bearing sets of notches.

“Mister Tobel,” Countess Beaumont said, “have a seat.”

One of Reed’s thugs grabbed the shopkeeper by the arm and yanked him off of the ground. Another man picked up his fallen stool and placed it at the counter across from Countess Beaumont. The young noblewoman offered the shopkeeper a pleasant smile as he was planted in front of her.

“Now,” she said, “we have a long discussion ahead of us. How long have you been operating this shop, Mister Tobel?”

The shopkeeper furrowed his brow. A sharp poke in the shoulder prompted him to speak.

“N-Nineteen!” He nearly shouted, “I’ve been here since I was nineteen m’la–my lady. That’s...it’s been nearly twenty years since then.”

“Are you registered with the Merchant Guild?”

Tobel nodded.

“Were you born in this fief?”

Tobel nodded again.

“I was born in Beaumont Town, my lady.”

“Who did you apprentice under?”

“Old Bridges, my lady,” the shopkeeper answered. “His wagons just left this morning.”

“To operate your own trading post at nineteen is quite the accomplishment,” the Countess said. “It must come with an equally captivating story.”

“It wasn’t all that grand,” Tobel fidgeted as he stared down at the counter. “After a few years as a journeyman, Old Bridges set me up with this shop. He likes to work with people he knows.”

“I see,” Countess Beaumont said. “Was he also the one who told you to set these prices for your goods?”

The shopkeeper turned pale and fell silent. Olin snorted. As far as Merchants went, the man was utterly abysmal at misdirecting others.

There were countless established Merchants like Old Bridges across the Azerlisian Marches and they all planted former Apprentices, family members, and other allies throughout their trade routes. This created mercantile strongholds that were practically impossible for external competition to break into: one simply couldn’t do any business while they were there.

“If you have no further use for your tongue,” Countess Beaumont said, “allow me to relieve you of its inconvenience.”

“Yes!” Tobel cried, “I mean no!” I...he didn’t tell me to set the prices where they are, but his prices are high enough as it is. I need to make a living, my lady.”

“How much does he charge for his imports?”

“It’s all barter, my lady. The miners trade their ore for my goods and I trade iron ore for Old Bridges’ goods. It’s all I do, my lady, I swear!”

Countess Beaumont looked past the shopkeeper’s shoulder to the slate boards hanging on the wall behind the counter. In a word, the prices listed there were outrageous. Old Bridges probably brought back quadruple the value of what he brought in with every circuit of his route.

“I suppose that’s why we left town with so many empty wagons,” the Countess muttered. “Let us discuss these tallies. If I’m not mistaken, every one of them shows a significant debt on the part of the customer.”

“It comes and goes, my lady,” Tobel said. “Everyone here’s at least a little in the hole – even myself.”

That’s his game, then?

Practically speaking, every rural settlement in Re-Estize operated on a system of credit. Farmers went into debt during the spring to pay for tools, animals, and other supplies with the expectation that they could settle those debts with the harvest. Those who worked in forestry had a similar arrangement, though it was tied to the Merchants as they came and went. It sounded like Tobel was constructing his defence on a similar precedent.

“Yet that shouldn’t be,” Countess Beaumont said. “One wouldn’t suffer these prices in Re-Blumrushur, never mind in a mining settlement near a town. There is no reasonable justification for anything I see listed behind you.”

“A-As I said, my lady,” Tobel licked his lips nervously, “they’re Old Bridges’ prices! It can’t be helped...”

“With that attitude of yours, I suppose you’ll be mired in this miserable state for the rest of your life. I’m surprised the miners haven’t lynched you yet.”

“Ah, it’s not so bad, my lady. Nothing a bit of liquor won’t fix.”

The Countess peered at the shopkeeper as if considering where she would like to stab him. A tense silence filled the air as two woodsmen shifted in behind Tobel, sealing off any chance for escape. Countess Beaumont picked up one of the tally sticks lying on the counter, examining the notches upon its length. A full minute passed before the young noblewoman spoke again.

“We have a guest from the Sorcerous Kingdom,” Olin said as he gestured to Liam. “He’s here to...what are you here to do, exactly, Liam?”

“A few things,” Liam replied. “Is there a place where we can talk inside?”

“Sure is,” the man said, seeming somewhat proud for some reason. “Follow me. Name’s Dwayne, by the way. The mine overseer.”

“Nice to meet you, Dwayne.”

Liam followed Dwayne into the mineshaft. Olin took one last look at the surroundings before going in himself.

“Do we need sentries?” Reed asked.

“No,” Olin snorted. “I’d be more worried about finding a comfortable place to sleep if I were you.”

“That won’t be a concern,” Dwayne told them. “This ain’t no regular mine. Our industrious little friends made me a comfy place to live in.”

“Those things are working on my coin,” Olin said. “I hope you didn’t waste too much time with this side project of yours.”

“Don’t you worry, boss,” Dwayne chuckled. “It didn’t take much.”

The last traces of the evening light vanished no more than two dozen paces from the mineshaft’s entrance. Torches had been placed every twenty or so metres, but that barely gave them enough light to see the path ahead. Dwayne’s lantern bobbed up and down as he casually made his way deeper into the cramped passageway until they reached a junction between three much wider tunnels.

“This is as far as the old miners got,” Dwayne said as he gestured around them with his lantern. “Everything from here on in is all us.”

Even with the poor lighting, no one could mistake the distinct difference between the shaft leading to the entrance and the ones past the junction. The amount of space afforded by the new excavation would have been considered a colossal waste of energy by Human miners, but it wasn’t an issue for the new miners they had leased from the Sorcerous Kingdom. In addition, the spacious passages were reinforced by timbers that had been cut to an eerily ubiquitous standard.

“Where’d you like to start, erm...Liam?”

“The place that you mentioned before is fine,” Liam replied. “Everyone can drop off their stuff and lay out their bedrolls while we’re there.”

“Sure thing,” Dwayne said.

The mine overseer led them into a passage straight ahead of them, which brought them up a shallow incline as they went deeper into the mountain. Roughly a hundred metres from the junction, they arrived at a warehouse-like chamber where numerous freight wagons were parked.

“What the hell is all this?” Reed asked.

“The wagons here get loaded up with ore and shipped out,” Dwayne answered.

“Shipped out where?”

“Uh...it’s hard to explain. Or maybe hard to believe? When we’re ready to move our inventories, a hole opens up in the air and our loaded wagons are rolled through to places unknown.”

“Have there been any problems with transportation?” Liam asked.

“Not that I can recall,” Dwayne answered. “Of course, I just stay out of the way while everyone does their thing. The fellows that show up seem to know what they’re doing.”

“Then are there any improvements you’d like to see made?”

“Hmm...a kitchen, maybe? A cute girl to come with it would be nice, too.”

Olin glanced at Liam several times as the overseer rambled on. The man wasn’t exactly making the best of impressions with his selfish requests.

Their party made its way between the rows of wagons, crossing the chamber to reach the overseer’s office. Dwayne had certainly wasted no effort in making the place as comfortable as possible, though Olin couldn’t imagine where he had gotten some of his furnishings. All that the man had brought with him when they took control of the mines was whatever was in the pack he carried.

“What do ya think?” Dwayne grinned as he swept his hand toward his living space, “Not bad, eh?”

“How in the world did you get your hands on all of this?” Olin frowned, “No one’s supposed to know what we’re up to here.”

“It was pretty miserable at first, I admit,” Dwayne said. “I had to make a shack out of the scraps of the old camp and sleeping on the mountainside was damn miserable. A man can only bear that for a few days before he starts trying to figure out how to make things more livable. Once I got used to directing the new labour, one thing just led to another. Storing inventories outside in the wet is no good, so dug out some underground warehouses and carved out this office on the side.”

“That doesn’t explain all of these comforts that you’ve furnished your ‘office’ with,” Olin said.

“I’m gettin’ there, boss,” Dwayne replied. “Anyways, the Sorcerous Kingdom always sends a Merchant to purchase what we dig up. A fuzzy little Beastman about as tall as a Goblin...”

“They’re called Quagoa,” Liam said. “Their race lives underground and they have a good sense for minerals. That’s probably why they sent a Quagoa Merchant to deal with you.”

“That so? Guy was all business so I didn’t get to learn much about him. Not that a Merchant would admit to having an advantage like that. Let’s see, where was I...oh, even with things going as smoothly as they were, a mine’s still a mine in the end. We had tools to replace and shafts to support. Fortunately, that Merchant was more than happy to sell me everything that I needed. They even installed a pump to keep things from flooding. Eventually, I got around to asking about all this furniture and other stuff that you see here. He sold it all for cheap – something about them being second-hand goods that were being liquidated. The boss said we’re supposed to be doing legit things now, so I’m runnin’ things here all legit.”

Olin scanned the contents of the overseer’s office. If anything was second-hand, he couldn’t tell. Upon seeing the simple, yet undeniably high-quality pieces, his initial thought was that Dwayne had embezzled funds from the mine’s operations to purchase some luxuries for himself. It would have hardly been the first time something like that had happened in the Eight Fingers: in fact, it was pretty much expected.

“By the way, boss,” Dwayne said, “since the mine’s doing so well, I was thinking about expanding operations.”

“Expanding?” Olin’s gaze returned to the overseer, “How?”

“I can only direct so many labourers,” the overseer said. “The way I see it, all these untapped veins are ours for the taking. We could bring in some foremen and their families; get a real community going out here. Also, the girl that I–”

“I’ll think about it,” Olin said. “Right now, we’re here to see how we can help Liam.”

He made a mental note to have Dwayne replaced. The man had clearly forgotten what his place in the grand scheme of things was. Furthermore, he was making inroads with people on the Sorcerous Kingdom’s side.

“Alright then,” Dwayne said, “there something I can do for you, Liam?”

“I’d like to have a tour of your operations,” Liam said, “but, first, I have something for Reed and his men to do.”

“You do?” Reed said.

“Yeah, hold on.”

Liam popped open a scrollcase fastened to his bandolier and produced a single vellum scroll. The scroll disappeared in a flash of azure flame and Liam raised a hand to his ear. A minute later, a black hole opened in the air in front of him.

“What in the...”

“Hush!” Olin snapped at Reed.

Olin clenched his fists in an attempt to still his trembling and did his best not to swallow. The last time he had seen such a portal, one of the Sorcerer King’s terrifying subordinates had dragged him back through it for their so-called ‘baptism’. They couldn’t afford to anger whatever came through...

...except what came through was a youth around Liam’s age. Then, a chorus of frightened cries sounded as an Elder Lich and two Death Knights emerged from the pitch-black darkness behind him.

“Hey, Raul,” Liam waved a hand.

“Hey, Liam,” the youth raised a hand. “I thought we were supposed to do this yesterday.”

“We got caught in the rain on the way here. I guess you know what’s going on?”

“Yeah,” Raul said. “They said you needed someone to thin out the monsters around here. This should be enough, right?”

Raul gestured over his shoulder with his thumb at the three Undead creatures. Liam shrugged.

“That’s something you’ll have to figure out,” Liam said. “Someone got attacked by a Manticore on the way here, so there’s at least that. The scouts I brought with me should know more.”

“Alright,” Raul said. “Where are these scouts?”

“They just ran screaming,” Liam said. “Good luck out there.”