My addition
"We wont need too many guards," Howell commented. "Two maybe three more."
Loyal ones!" Gwayn added.
"Have you considered buying cargo here and selling it in the south?" Gallus
said. "Shame to send cargo wagons south empty."
The merchant brightened up immediately. "Now thats a good idea. But what to buy
that people want to the south."
"There is some mining up in the hills," Howel suggested. "But lets walk the
market and see what we find."
What they found was a mixed assortment. First they bought provisions for the
long trip and to replenish other supplies and finally Gwayn bought himself a
new coat and hat. Surprisingly that left him with some money left over!
From a trapper/hunter he bought several dozen different furs. All of which
would sell well to the south. Also he several cords of Whisperwood. A tree with
a fine looking gray texture to its wood. "This wood we can sell in the south at
a great profit!"
Getting guards was not as easy. Ironically, Several of the animal form ones
would only go as the south end of the valley and no further. Eventually they
found two men; Oison was a tall, lanky red haired man carrying a bow and arrows
along with his sword. Achem was shorter but well muscled and wielded a large
double bladed ax.
*******************
On Saturday, August 26, 2023 at 09:49:02 AM EDT, Rimme the Weasel
<[email protected]> wrote:
Evening had come to the Jolly Collie. After the frenzied search for answers
just an hour earlier, the patrons and innkeepers had resumed their nightly
activities. A flautist in the corner played a cheery air as the regulars
settled into their ale. The robbery was already making the rounds into the
gossip. At least one chuckled at the audacity of someone committing a robbery
in an inn owned by Misha. If the robbers had dared to rob the innkeepers
themselves... why, the depths of fury that one fox could reach!
Three foreign patrons sat around a table, looking glum despite their recently
acquired fortune. With two guards mutinied, two guards resigned, and one guard
gone to bed early for the night, it was a much quieter group than had been
there just that morning.
"Have you thought of hiring some new guards?" Howel asked as he sipped his
cider. His choice of drink was met with an upraised eyebrow by Gallus, but
there was no one here to tease him for it. "There are still lots of humans
here. Most of them good in combat, from what I see, and they would love to see
the world."
"It's bad luck, is all it is," Gwayn muttered into his ale. "First my business
partner dies. Now over half my men have abandoned me. All over a bunch of
rugs." He sighed. "I knew I should have gone into selling wine instead."
"We still managed to find a buyer," Gallus said. "We are fortunate enough to
have met Misha."
Gwayn looked at Howel. "You are right that I'll need more guards. Perhaps I
could ask the local patrol master if he has guards to spare. But I'm sure he'll
want an extra fee for the service." He shrugged. "Or maybe I can spend the
night knocking on doors, asking if they have any sellswords for sale. And what
would stop them from betraying me like all the rest?" He swigged his drink.
"Some say a soldier's value lies in their training, but in truth, it's in their
loyalty. A loyal rookie is worth far more than the fiercest deserter."
"I'm sure it was only fear of the curse that drove Rodrick and Nathan away,"
Gallus said over his whiskey, his tone measured to soothe Gwayn's tranquil
fury. "They panicked. Even loyal soldiers will rout in the heat of battle. They
took the only route they knew of. They will be happy to follow once they see
another way out. One that won't see them branded as outlaws."
Gwayn drummed his fingers. "It's very tempting to brand some men that way. But
then, I was never meant to be a general. I'd like to think I'm a fair manager.
Harsh, but fair. Harsh measures are necessary sometimes to keep the world from
robbing you."
Howel kept silent in all this, continuing to drink his cider with one eye on
Gwayn, and another on the tavern. Gallus stared at Howel, trying to catch his
eye and coax him into responding. From his fixed expression, Gallus couldn't
tell whether Howel was disinterested in Gwayn's self-pity, or disgusted by it.
Gallus finally summoned his courage. "You're still thinking about what the oni
said to you?"
Gwayn's fire was rekindled. "Who does he think he is, calling me greedy? I have
asked for no more than what was right. I have paid you all fairly and
reasonably. There are plenty of merchants in this world who deserve to be cut
down a peg, but not me." He looked up at Howel, hoping to find an audience in
his eyes. "Do you know that our world as we know it wouldn't exist without
money? How many wars have been avoided because it was mutually beneficial to
make a deal? And he acts like I am the disgraceful one! How far would you have
gotten, friend, if you weren't able to turn your skill into gold, to make
shelter and furniture and luxuries from your furs?"
"I've lived a long time without resorting to barter or trade," Howel admitted,
"and even today, I dare not take any more luxury than I can protect. I'm used
to going where my quarry goes. That means travelling light, and using only what
I need." He scratched his beard. "In the Giantdowns, there are many who think
loyalty can be bought. And perhaps it can be, if it comes with a title and
inheritance." He scoffed. "Most men are never that lucky. The only true path to
loyalty is mutual dependence -- to need each other against a common threat."
Gwayn raised his glass. "Well said." He drank and pondered again, fury
placated. "Those two guards I had... Aldwin and Reed. Looking back, I can see
that they were only here for adventure. Not for the pay, not out of loyalty.
Perhaps that was my mistake in hiring them."
Something about Howel's speech sat uneasily with Gallus -- was loyalty really
so base? -- but he didn't argue, content that it had quelled Gwayn's temper.
"They've served us well up to this point. In the end, all men must follow their
destiny."
"Destiny is another word for dereliction." The ale must've gotten to Gwayn, as
it was unnecessarily curt. Sensing this, Gwayn sighed. "It's the uncertainty
that's most frustrating."
"Have you ever learned to use a knife, sir?" Howel spoke up suddenly.
"Me?" Gwayn was aback. "Not a knife. All of my fighting was done as a boy
shaking a stick."
"It is a useful skill that everyone should know on the road. Especially when
you are low in numbers. I could teach some moves before we retire. It will also
clear your head, and be good for the soul."
Gwayn shrank back in alarm. "A merchant has no place tumbling in the fray!"
"Then you can fight for your wares. If some bandit were to sneak past your
guards for your money or your life, you should have the chance to fight and
keep both."
"I'm sure it'll take at least weeks of training to fight a real threat," Gallus
said, "but I agree. It wouldn't hurt to learn the basics. And he does know his
way around one-on-one combat." He finished his whiskey. "I should go check on
Jerrod, make sure he's not causing trouble in our room. By your leave."
Gwayn waved him off, and turned back to look at Howel. "A bit of practice, then
we'll go ask around for some guards. But first let me put on something
cheap."_______________________________________________
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