TS4 - Chapter 41 (Patreon)

For most of the morning, Thorn did brisk business, and the points racked up on his token. Soon, he had nearly 340,000 points, and had sold thirteen weapons. Many of the people who came by to pick up the custom order weapons also bought something else, as all of them were fairly wealthy. They spent the points without hesitation, and Thorn soon realized that he was undercharging. He responded to this by simply raising his prices, and after selling three more weapons, had picked up another 100,000 points. By the afternoon, business was starting to slow, as not everyone could afford to take out a loan for so many points, or had earned them themselves. He was just haggling with a new customer when he caught sight of a familiar figure heading his direction. Wensted Jarl, the elven merchant, and four imposing-looking elves, dressed in gleaming armor, were coming towards him.

[Looks like trouble, Thorn.]

Thorn's eyes narrowed slightly, and his smile widened.

Good. Hopefully, they'll give me an excuse to take them out.

Sensing something was wrong, the man Thorn had been negotiating with quickly paid the 40,000 points Thorn was demanding and took the darkness-attributed saber he had been eyeing. Turning around, he came face-to-face with Wensted Jarl and his goons, and quickly moved to the side. The elven merchant stopped in front of Thorn.

"I see you have not taken our advice," he said, staring down his nose at Thorn.

With a rumbling chuckle, Thorn placed his hands on his knees and stood up, his head rising first to Wensted Jarl's chest, and then head, and then continuing to rise into the air, until he was looming over the elf. Even though there was a good few feet between them, Thorn still towered over the merchant and the goons Wensted Jarl had brought. With a small smile, Thorn shook his head.

"Advice? I don't remember any advice. Care to repeat it?"

Thorn found it quite amusing when Wensted Jarl tried to continue looking down his nose but was forced to crane his head back so he could look up at Thorn.

"We told you not to sell your wares here in this market," the elf said, "but you chose not to listen, and now you'll pay the consequence for it."

The pleasant expression on Thorn's face faded, replaced with cold, calm stony calm.

"I wasn't aware that you get to decide who sells here and who doesn't.”

The elven merchant seemed to be waiting for his goons to step forward, but even though they were quite large for elves, none of them wanted anything to do with Thorn. Thorn could tell that Wensted Jarl was getting a little bit frustrated, and despite pretending that he had no idea what was going on, Thorn knew full well what the elf was waiting for. In a situation like this, it would have been typical for someone in Thorn's position to avoid offending the merchant group in charge, or at the very least offering a split of what they sold. But it was clear that the elf felt it was beneath him to bring up the idea of some sort of tax and Thorn was entirely content to allow him to continue in his discomfort. Finally, after staring at each other for a couple of minutes, Wensted Jarl broke the silence.

"Given the skill of the blacksmith grandmaster you serve, we would be willing to overlook this offense for a small fee, a small percentage," Wensted Jarl said, trying to take a step back so he didn't have to crane his neck back so far.

"And what kind of small percentage were you thinking?" Thorn asked.

"Forty percent. I think that is fair," Wensted Jarl said. "That's a better deal than most of the other merchants in the market are getting."

The number surprised Thorn. He knew that the Golden Scale had considerable sway in the market, otherwise Wensted Jarl wouldn't be strutting around like he was. But the knowledge that most of the merchants in the market were paying greater than 40% of their profit to the merchant group caught him off guard. Seeing the frown on Thorn's face, the elven merchant gave him a self-satisfied smile.

"Your options are pay up or find a different market," he said.

Taking a long look at the merchant and then the thugs behind him, Thorn shook his head.

"No, I think I'll just stay here," he said. "I'm not going to pay you. So whatever it is you think you can do to me, you can get on with it. Now, if you wouldn't mind moving out of the way, I've got customers."

Wensted Jarl's face expression had turned ugly as Thorn spoke and now he spun around, seeing the group of warriors who were standing behind them. Surprised by the glare directed his way, one of the warriors was going to speak up when the other grabbed his arm and tugged on it.

"Ah, sorry," the second warrior said, bowing. "Didn't see that you were on official business. We'll leave you to it."

Stepping back, he pulled on his friend, whispering, "That's the Golden Scale Merchant Group. Don't say anything stupid."

Wensted Jarl turned back to Thorn, who matched the elf's glare with perfect calm.

"You will come to regret this," the merchant said.

"Will I?" Thorn asked, affecting genuine surprise. "Somehow, I don't think so. Now, if you'll excuse me, you're blocking the way."

With a sneer, Wensted Jarl turned away, gesturing to a couple of the thugs to stay put. As he stalked off into the crowd, the two well-built elves smirked at Thorn and took up their places, blocking the path to the sheet that he had laid out on the ground.

"Excuse me," Thorn said. "Can the two of you move, please?"

When they ignored him, Thorn's eyes narrowed slightly and he considered moving them by force. Realizing that was likely to start a fight, one that, even if he won, wouldn't turn out well for him, Thorn just sighed and kept his seat. A few minutes later, Sparky and Stello both strolled over, looking around. When they spotted Thorn, they waved and headed his direction, but the two guards, who were each wearing Golden Scale insignia on their chests, stepped forward to block them.

"This shop is closed," one of them said.

"Don't touch me," Stello replied, flicking the guard's hand away as he started to step past.

"Maybe you didn't hear us," the other guard said, stepping forward to block his path once again.

"Are you starting a fight?" Sparky asked, his voice just loud enough to draw attention from the surrounding area. "We're just trying to walk here. What do you mean by blocking our path?"

Sneering, the guard who had originally spoken didn't back down.

"We said, this shop is closed. Orders of the Golden Scale."

"The Golden who?" Sparky asked, turning and looking at Stello. "I thought this was the Seekers Alliance market, but you're acting like it's yours.”

“They are pretty bossy, aren't they?" Thorn said, from behind the guards.

Turning to address Thorn, the guard felt a finger poke at his chest as Stello stepped forward and stopped him from turning.

"I told you to get out of my way," Stello said, with a cold glare. "If I were you, I'd make a good choice."

"Wow, are you gonna let him talk to you like that?" Thorn asked the elven guard. "I mean, you're from the Golden Scale, so you can't let people push you around. He clearly doesn't respect you at all."

Behind Stello, Sparky's face lit up with a wide grin.

"Ooh, that's right," he said. "He isn't respecting you at all. If I were you, I wouldn't take it. Otherwise, other people in the market might start disrespecting you, too."

The guards were eminently aware that Sparky and Stello were friends of Thorn's. They had seen them waving earlier, but now, hearing the rapid-fire back and forth, confusion welled up in their minds. The one Stello was poking was growing incensed, but the other guard had enough sense to tug on his arm, pulling him to the side.

"We don't care where you walk," he said, "as long as you don't buy anything."

Stello, who had started to walk closer to Thorn's stall, stopped, mid-stride, slowly turning to stare at the guard.

"Did you just tell me that I have to check with you before I buy something?" he asked, his voice low, like the rumble of a volcano right before it explodes. "I'm not sure who you think you are, but if you really think you can tell me what to do, we're going to have major problems."

"Hey, if you guys are going to fight, take it somewhere else."

One of the nearby merchants, who had been watching the exchange, stepped in, trying to avoid a conflict happening right next to his stall.

"I have no desire to fight," Stello said, "not that it would be much of a match anyways, but these gentlemen think it's in their right to tell me what to do. I wasn't aware of a rule like that in the Seekers Alliance market. What do you think? Does everyone now have to get their purchases checked with the Golden Scale Merchant Group?"

Caught between a rock and a hard place, the merchant who had stepped in quickly wished that he hadn't. His eyes glanced towards the two guards, who were staring at him with hard looks, as he became aware of all of the other merchants and shoppers in the area, listening to him. Clearly, there wasn't such a rule, and if he said that, he would undoubtedly anger the Golden Scale Alliance. Mumbling something under his breath, he quickly retreated, causing Stello to shake his head.

"I hadn't realized that everyone in the Seekers Alliance was such a coward," he said. "Well, regardless of how you feel, I'm not afraid of the Golden Scale Alliance, and I'll purchase what I want from who I want."

The last words were spoken staring directly at the two guards. Unable to bear the disrespect, one of them was about to step forward when the other grabbed his shoulder and pointed. Coming through the crowd was a large group of soldiers, led by a grim-faced apekin who carried a large staff and wore the symbol of the Seekers Alliance on a shield-shaped badge on his chest. A step behind him was Wensted Jarl, and the eclectic group of guards following him were clearly armed for business.

"That's the one," Wensted Jarl said, pointing at Thorn.

The guard captain swaggered up, looking at Thorn, and then down at the weapons at his feet. As soon as he saw them, the guard captain halted and an ugly expression crossed his face. It was obvious that he was well aware of Thorn and the weapons that he sold. Seeing the slightly murderous look he shot at Wensted Jarl, who was too oblivious to notice, Thorn couldn't help but smile. Clearly, the guard captain had no desire to do whatever it was the elven merchant had requested of him, especially since it involved Thorn. Still, after regathering himself the apekin guard captain pointed at Thorn.

“Are you the merchant responsible for this stall?”

“I am,” Thorn replied, standing up.

The guard captain was nearly seven and a half feet tall, but as Thorn stood to his eight-foot, nine-inch height, he took a small step back and gripped his staff tightly. His eyes raked over Thorn and then the weapons on the ground and his expression got even worse. After a moment's pause, he spoke again.

"It has come to our attention that you are selling in the market without being a part of the Seekers' Alliance. Is it correct that you're part of the Temple of Man?"

"Yes, I am," Thorn admitted, causing the guard captain’s grimace to lighten.

"I'm afraid I have to inform you that you can't sell here without being an official member of the Seekers' Alliance. You'll have to pack up."

Frowning slightly, Thorn looked at the guard captain and then glanced at Wensted Jarl behind him.

"I'm aware that that's an official rule," he said, "but one that, to my knowledge, is never enforced. It seems strange that you would enforce it now, unless you're taking orders from the Golden Scale Alliance."

With a slight sigh, the ape shook his head.

"A report was made by a concerned member of the Seekers' Alliance," he said. "I'm not at liberty to disclose who, but you're going to have to pack up and go."

Thorn had already gathered 440,000 points, and after a quick calculation, he nodded.

"That's fine," he said. "I don't want to cause any trouble, so I'm happy to pack up."

Gathering all of his things together, Thorn bundled them up while Wensted Jarl watched on with a gloating smile.

"It's a shame," Thorn said. "I guess I'm going to have to take my wares somewhere besides the Seeker’s Alliance and set up a shop there. The Grandmaster will be quite sad to hear that the Seekers' Alliance didn't appreciate the weapons he was making."

"I didn't say that," the apekin guard captain said. "I'm just saying—"

"No, no, I understand," Thorn replied, cutting him off. "Clearly, it's an issue of the quality of the weapons. Well, I'll make sure to tell the Grandmaster Blacksmith that the Seekers' Alliance thinks the quality of his weapons is sub-par. It'll be interesting to see his face when I show him some of the other weapons that are sold in this market. I'm sure that he'll be astonished to see the quality and will understand entirely why the Seekers' Alliance is disdainful of the weapons he makes."

By this time, the guard captain's face was beyond ugly, and even Wensted Jarl had started to lose his glee. A Grandmaster Blacksmith was a force to be reckoned with anywhere in the endless worlds. Not simply because of the weapons they created, but because of the connections that such weapons afforded them. Almost no faction would willingly slight a Grandmaster Blacksmith. But from the sarcastic way that Thorn was speaking, it was clear that that is exactly what was going to happen. But the Golden Scale Alliance wasn't the one who was going to bear the burden. Instead, it was the Seekers' Alliance.

Thorn had already sold dozens of weapons, amassing a considerable number of points, and every single warrior who had purchased a weapon would likely feel that they had benefited greatly from the blacksmith's work. Considering the sheer number of weapons that Thorn had on display, it was obvious that whoever this Grandmaster Blacksmith was, he had been at it for a really long time, which meant that he likely had all sorts of connections, just like the ones he had been forging here in the Renith Ruins. This meant that the Seekers' Alliance was likely to find themselves on the short end of the stick if this enigmatic blacksmith decided to put pressure on them.