Chapitre 4: Chapter 14: Blackrose Trade District, Day (2)
I t was a given that no inn would display their prices where it could be easily seen, and they'd all insist that theirs was the best. The only guidance we followed was to select an inn suitably far from the entrance of the east gate, where prices would least likely to be inflated, and also one where not a single window was cracked. The choices were remarkably narrow.
The inn we chose was located on the suburbs of the Trade District, bleeding into the Commons District. We'd naturally gravitated away from the docks where the salt air was almost overbearing, and now found ourselves in the only place of quiet we'd discovered since arriving in this city of hustle and bustle. It could only have been a good sign that the inn managed to stay in business.
Unless, of course, being an inn was only what it showed on the outside.
Putting that very real possibility aside, we entered the establishment and wasted no time in making straight for the commission boards. There was plenty of the city to explore. But time wasn't the inhibiting factor here. It was money.
AdvertisementsREPORT THIS ADWhile it wasn't usually in good etiquette to scour the board before the bar, there was no indignation to suffer in this city. The workings of this port resulted in a more open culture of profiteering. Combined with the glut of inns and the lack of seasoned adventurers, there was little reason not to immediately investigate the two commission boards located inside this inn. One was local to the establishment, while another was enchanted to share the postings of every board of its make here in the city.
I perused both, expecting little but hoping nonetheless.
The local board was a grim affair. The length of time commissions were allowed to remain depended on the fee paid to the establishment. However, I didn't need to look at the dates to know many of the ones posted had expired. The peeling corners were enough.
I only gave the board a cursory look over. I suspected that unless we wanted to clear out giant rats from a cellar that'd either already been dealt with or grown twice as lethal from the failed attempt, these commissions could be safely discarded.
I focused my attention on the city-wide board instead. This one was maintained by one of the more prominent merchant guilds, and so offered a veneer of professionalism at odds with the rest of the city. The layout was clean and sparse, with commissions not needing to fight each other for space.
"It makes a change from Coral, doesn't it?" said Iris, peeking over behind my shoulder. There was plenty of space beside me, but when it came to being cute, my girlfriend was a decorated veteran. "Oh, would you look at that. Commissions that pay for more than our room and board. We might be able to visit a blacksmith, as long as they're willing to be haggled down to almost working for free."
I held back my thoughts. I didn't know how to tell her that if Iris haggled, she'd be able to get anything for free. It wouldn't earn her reputation any favours, but beauty was the world's oldest weapon.
Who knows? Maybe if all else failed, the Demon King could be politely asked to stop his murdering rampage. It would be a lot easier than some of the things she achieved.
These days, Magnus sometimes even paid for his own drinks.
I looked behind, conscious of the absence of the man who'd walked in with us. He was currently making friends with some of the local patrons. And those friends were now happily offering their drinks to him. Yes, even if their terrified expressions said otherwise.
I returned to the board.
"Stolen item retrieval, property security, valuables delivery," I read out, skimming for the summaries. "And … stealing items, damaging property, and waylaying deliveries. All listed with an official seal. And to think I wondered why nobody sane ever came to this place."
Iris smiled, shifting to my side.
"I suppose the wealthy here have their own way of projecting influence," she said, joining me in scanning the multitude of commissions we'd never take. "Crime is only committed by those who can't afford to pay the Watch. For everyone else, it's classed as a business venture."
And business was very personal, judging by the amount of commissions to outright destroy or seize an entire family's holdings. No wonder adventurers found little joy here. There was more money to be made as a household guard. I'm sure the pay was more than reasonable as well.
After all, most employers did not expect they'd need to pay.
Or if they did, then it was in a currency they could churn out on demand.
"Payment in silver falcs, huh?" I murmured, frowning as I noticed the smallprint present on many of the commissions.
"Silver falcs?" replied Iris. "Now that's a name I haven't heard in a while."
And for good reason. While originally derived from the treasure hoard the corsairs had brought with them upon stranding themselves in the kingdom's shores, the silver falcs of the Blackrose were almost as infamous as the ship themselves, notably for the fact they didn't contain any silver at all.
This usually would have entailed the currency's quick demise into the history books. But this city wasn't born out of a corsair's ship for nothing. Where the much more common silver dira was accepted in all good shops, the silver falc was accepted in the more notorious ones. Whether that was a positive or negative depended on what you were buying.
Even so, I hadn't expected the silver falc to be the primary currency of reward. And neither did Iris.
The person in charge of our finances blinked rapidly as she went through all the commissions at lightning pace.
"Almost all in silver falcs. Is it even worth anything outside of this city these days?"
"Sure. Blacksmiths will melt it down. The iron is a little impure, but it'll get the job done if you want a new kettle."
"A kettle? … Why ever not. Ours is burned black. Which commission do you recommend that could pay us in approximately one kettle?"
"There's a request to set fire to a wizard's tower. It's no witch's hut, but I suppose Magnus wouldn't care about the distinction. Especially as both occupants would likely attempt to incinerate us without a second thought. How does that sound?"
"Like an endeavour worth at minimum of two kettles. I'll make myself clear now. I refuse to be incinerated for anything less than two pieces of camping equipment."
"Understood. Does tableware and cutlery count as camping equipment?"
"If they're nice, yes."
I willed myself to not break out into a smile, but there was little need to. Not when Iris was already doing so.
AdvertisementsREPORT THIS AD"It's likely the war," I said, regretting that I had to return to scouring the board instead of losing myself in her smile. "Those with dira fled further south. There was a run on the currency. Literally."
Iris nodded, her expression hardening in thought.
"I suppose that's both good news and bad," she said. "The good news is that the coins we do have are worth considerably more now. The bad news is that any falcs we accept needs to be spent while we're in Blackrose."
"It shouldn't make much difference, providing that the worth of the falc hasn't depreciated. Blackrose has always been self-sufficient. It's why the kingdom's primary concern was secession before destruction became its newest issue. We'll still re-equip ourselves and take stock of new scrolls and potions. And before we leave, there'll be merchants specialising in currency exchange."
Iris nodded, taking in the list of commissions solely by reward offered.
"Then that leaves us with our choice of noble quests to take on. Which do you prefer? Robbery or arson?"
"Do you mean preventing robbery or arson?"
Iris raised an eyebrow. I broke out into a small laugh. Her giggling soon joined me.
"This is nice," she said softly. "It feels like old times."
"Please don't say that. We're not experienced enough to have old times."
"No, but this is pleasant. To pour over a commissions board, our concerns solely with reward, as opposed to …"
Iris fell into silence. I took it as a pause rather than an ending, and so didn't interrupt her.
"… As opposed to me. I'm glad that there are no lasting effects. I wouldn't know what to do if I could no longer be the Sword Princess."
Immediately, I felt something stir inside me.
It's true that there was no physical debilities as a result of our battle with the Demon of Lust, as least so far as Iris's swordsmanship was concerned.
But the relief in her smile as she said there were no lasting effects caused my posture to tighten.
It was almost as if she no longer considered being unable to feel satisfaction from me to be a detriment.
"I'm sure you would have been fine," I said, forcing my smile to be steady. "You'll always be the Sword Princess, until the day you decide not to be."
"Even if I couldn't wield a sword? My light magic?"
I shrugged.
"Well, we're going to be earning a lot of kettles from now on. I hear there's an opening for the Kettle Princess."
"I hope you're not insinuating that I would be dismissed to being a campfire minder."
"That would be a magnificent waste of your talents. As the Kettle Princess, you'd be able to fling boiling water from over 20 steps away. In fact, you might want to consider switching. Think of the fear you'd instil. What's a sword or light magic compared to scorching hot water in the face?"
"… Perhaps you'd like to test it?"
A dangerous glint appeared in Iris's eyes as she made it clear that humour only went so far. And that even jokingly referring to her as the Kettle Princess from now on would result in my face's immediate demise.
I abruptly coughed, then wisely opted to turn to all the other ways I could be irreparably injured.
"Everything will pose a danger," I said, going over the commissions in greater detail. "No matter which request we opt for, I imagine it'll involve taking on Blackrose's finest hoodlums."
AdvertisementsREPORT THIS AD"And that's why we came, isn't it? To earn coin while surreptitiously suggesting a new career path to all those who would hear it."
"It is, but it's also worst that I expected here," I admitted. "It's like violence is institutionalised. No wonder the Royal Army gave the reins over to the Watch willingly. Even they couldn't change things, and they had fifty years to try."
I slowly took in the contents of the board.
We needed something that didn't come with expectations other than what was stated on the commission. We didn't invite trouble down the line. Preferably something short-term, within our skill set, wasn't morally ambiguous and paid handsomely. What did that leave?
Surprisingly, there was one.
And that explained why nobody had taken it yet.
"A cleansing ritual beneath a clear moon," I read out. "By commission of the Renfont Noble Estate, an ordained hero is required to recite the hundred verses of the Goddess of Love while offering the contents of a phoenix goblet to the recipient."
I let out a low whistle.
"A phoenix goblet. Apparently, it can cure any physical ailment. Diseases, poxes, fevers. Even broken bones and other injuries."
Iris stared at the commission I was motioning towards. I could see her doing the calculations in her head.
"All one hundred verses?" she said incredulously. "That would take …"
"Dawn to dusk." I grimaced. "An entire day. Or night, as this commission is asking."
Iris swivelled at the tone in my voice. Clearly, there had been a story I hadn't told her.
"My folks were ardent supports of the Goddess of Love," I explained offhandedly. "Reading the hundred verses were mandatory on special occasions."
AdvertisementsREPORT THIS AD"What? Such as when you stole from the donations box?" she teased.
I sighed, the memories of so many wasted youthful days suddenly mixed in my tiredness.
"It would have been easier to accept if it was. In any event, this is a commission we can take. It's short, pays well and specifically requires something other than a villain."
"More than that," noted Iris. "It says that they require applicants of impeccable standing and high repute."
As though dictated by fate, we both turned our heads towards the liability in our group, who at this time was the cause of a yelp being emitted from the centre the room.
Several of his new found friends, who'd seemingly found courage in numbers, now found themselves experiencing the comforts of the establishment from the floor instead of the chairs. One of them reached out and offered their drink to him. Being the magnanimous man that he was, Magnus was happy to accept no matter the seating arrangement.
Iris and I turned to each other.
"Only one of us needs to read the hundred verses," she said tactfully.
I considered the rest of her unspoken words.
"We do everything as a party," I eventually said, sighing as I watched Magnus dutifully helping up the people he'd tossed and then re-tossed onto the floor.
Iris nodded, then looked glumly at the commissions board.
Who knows? Maybe there was something else that Magnus could do. After all, it's not like he knew the hundred verses.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone