Chapter 4 - Bertinga has Wares if Council has Coins (Patreon)

To my relief,  I made it back to the tavern without any incidents happening. Before entering, I paused for a while to look at the tavern. It was a silly, almost nostalgic feeling, but the feeling of coming home still left me contented. As I opened the door with a satisfied sigh, a handful of known faces rose to meet me and I smiled. Chertog was there, feet on the table and already looking half tipsy. He was probably telling everybody how he'd outwitted me too. Judas. Gillem was busy waiting tables and I spotted Millerd trying to wave me over for a game of Fingers. I told him I'd be over later and found a table in the corner. Arack clearly had been waiting for me. The moment she spotted me, she ran over to pester me at the table.

Five minutes later, Gillem slid into the chair across from me, carrying two foaming brews. He pushed one across the table towards me. "I've got a couple of minutes. Kiff can make it for that long without burning down the place.” He paused. “At least, I think he can." We shared a laugh and he continued, "want to take it to your room? There's more privacy there."

I shook my head. "No. I trust Arack. Also, she's clever and... well, it would be good to have a kobold's perspective on it." 

His eyebrows raised, but to his credit he just nodded and motioned for me to get on with it.

Heads close together, I gave Gillem and Arack the Cliffs Notes. Gillem pulled his legs up to rest on the chair across from him while he cradled his ale, sipping every once in a while. Arack, meanwhile just stared at me, eyes open wide in shock. 

When I was done talking, she asked, in a very quiet voice, "Why are you doing all this?"

"I..." I interrupted the snarky comeback I was about to make. Arack was uncharacteristically serious and the answer clearly mattered to her. "A couple of reasons, some of them selfish. For one, I think the Fallen are going to make Grant's Crossing an even better place to live once you settle in and become a part of the place. Also, my reputation probably isn't going to suffer if we make this work. Mostly, however, I believe you guys deserve a fair chance and I don't mind trying to browbeat a few workers to get there."

She bowed her head and didn't add anything. Gillem was being uncharacteristically silent too. After a while, he cleared his throat and, with obvious dismay, said, "It's not going to happen."

Arack and I both started speaking, but he just raised a hand. "No, listen Arcangelo. You've done a fair bit of legwork, but at this point, it's not a matter of faith or investment, but one of math. Wait here." He jumped off the chair and went to the bare to fetch a piece of parchment and a quill. He started to scribble furiously as he spoke. "Now, correct me if I’m wrong. We were looking at mix of gatherers and farmers, twelve in total?” Without waiting for confirmation, he droned on, “gatherers are cheap. They just need weapons to fend off the wildlife, housing and food for starters and a tiny bit of equipment. The farmers, however – we’d have to break in new fields east of the Rush. Add to that an assortment of tools and a hand-operated plow. Good thing we have seeds in plenty though. Hmm…” His voice trailed off while he wrote. Pointing the quill at me, he continued, “you had the updated list showing a total of ten craftsmen, right? That’s tools, outfits and ingredients. Leatherworkers, woodworkers and a single woman who knows her way around pottery. Hmrf. Hunters will be weapons, armor and items for traps. Same for the warriors, less the traps, obviously.” Gillem seemed to have forgotten all about us, while he mused aloud and filled in the piece of paper with increasingly illegible calculations. Finally he underlined a number twice, exhaled hard and pushed the piece of parchment towards me.

“There. This is your likely cost, in gold, for outfitting everybody properly.” Gillem looked tired.

I looked at the number and then looked again. “320 gold pieces. That can’t be right!”

“I know. This is just a guess on my part. Mrs Bertinga and Mr. Callahan would likely be able to pinpoint additional costs right away. This is on top of the several hundred that we’re already shelling out in order to pay for food and lodging over the next half year.” Gillem pointed despondently in the direction of the Mayor’s house. “Now, Autoria and Mr. Callahan together would probably be able to front the cost. I sure can’t and Mallard invests all his money into the village anyway. I – just don’t know how we could possibly convince the two to bear any additional risk.”

"What are you saying? That they'll just leave everybody to starve as they like?"

His brows furrowed. "Not at all. The Council will do what they can in order for everybody in that camp will have the same chance that everybody in this village has had, to make or break their own fortune. I would love to do more for them, but I can’t see it happening. Besides, wasn't that all they wanted in the first place?"

I could feel my temper rising. "That's not at all the same and you know it, Gillem. These people..."

A voice interrupted from the side, "erm, you guys? A question?" Arack glanced tentatively at both of us. 

A glance at Gillem told that he was as relieved by the interruption as I was. "Of course. Go ahead." 

"So, obviously I'm new here, right? But the big issue here isn't the money, is it? I mean, not when the nice lady's already got all the stuff on her shelves and she's promised that she'd lend it to people."

Gillem put on a placating smile. "Arack, right? At some point I will have to hear exactly how you and Archie crossed ways. Now's not the time though. No, it's not really a question of money, it's more about the risk. Mrs. Bertinga wouldn't want to lose her shop from taking a gamble on your people if most of them flake on their responsibilities. Also, the Council are already way in the red in investments, when it comes to the Fallen."

"In the red what?"

"He means that they're already standing to lose a lot unless everything goes well."

"Ah. Weird sayings you have. Well, if it's just a matter of risk, why don't we just promise that we'll pay you back?"

"Well, if you promise? That changes everything." Gillem smirked. "Sorry, kid. You seem like a nice enough sort, but when we're talking about this kind of money, promises just won't cut it."

To be fair, there was a lot I didn't know about Arack. We still hadn't had many heart-to-hearts, but I had learned a lot about her personality and mannerisms. Today, I learned that she did not enjoy condescension. She pushed back her chair hard enough that it teetered on two legs for a second before regaining its balance. She rounded on the astonished halfling in a fury. "Is this fun to you? We leave everything behind and go off into the unknown because we're promised a safe haven and you dare smile?" She stood right before the baffled halfling, shaking a finger at his nose. "Well, I'll tell you something right this moment. You, sir, are not as smart as you think you are." Her sudden anger disappeared off the radar, like kids faced with bedtime, and was replaced with satisfaction. "and if you're as slow as you're slow, I might have to use smaller words."

A laugh bubbled from my lips. Oh my - this was so much funnier when it happened to somebody else. "Check your pockets, Gillem." His subsequent horror as he patted himself down had me hiding my face in my hands.

Arack did not let him off easy though. She started stacking his belongings on his table right in front of him, talking all the while. A pile of coins. A handkerchief. Two rings. A pocket knife. "That's right. I'm the best damn thief in the Dawnlight Forest. If money was the problem, I'd just go get it - and nobody here would be able to catch me in the act. Please listen to what I am actually saying."

Gillem's gaze stared down at the table and back up at the kobold who had folded her hands, waiting. "You have my undivided attention. What are you proposing then?"

"The Fallen are not looking for handouts. We've fought over scraps for years - sometimes decades. We will earn our rights and a place in Grant's Crossing - but we need a hand to get started. I propose that the Fallen, as a group, swear to repay the full amount for any Fallen who's unable or unwilling to do it himself." 

He sat there, listening intently, tapping his jaw. "So it would be a collective debt instead of a personal one? That might... hm."  He cut off his next words and asked, "say that works - what would stop any single kobold or group from reneging on their deal?"

"I've got this one," I interspersed, "Arack, would the Fallen be willing to swear in the name of Thracken."

She nodded and then a smile lit up her face. "We could even make it, like a demand a for receiving a loan."

"Gillem, I suggest you ask Mallard what their deity, Thracken, thinks about oathbreakers and exactly what this means. Maybe even sober up Greck and ask him, if you dare. Till then, just take this on faith: If a kobold swears in the name of Thracken, odds are he's dead serious."

It was starting to dawn on Gillem that he was facing a unified front and his eyes swiveled between the two of us. Finally, he threw his hands in the air. "Fine. You win. I'll take it before the Council and I’ll do my darndest to see it succeed. No promises, though."

"Thank you, my friend. I knew you could be depended upon to do the right thing."

He scoffed. "Bah. Bullied by my best friend and a teenager. This day can't get any worse." He smirked as he said it though and I shot back, “well, at least I didn’t blackmail you this time.”

After a final round of details, Gillem left us alone and I slapped Arack's back. "You crafty little thing. That was well done. Bonus points for pilfering his rings as well."

She rubbed her back. "Thank you. Erm. He's not the type to, like, hold a grudge or anything, is he?"

"Nah. Gillem's one of the good guys. Look, you've impressed me. You've earned a nice experience. Want to come meet a friend?"