“Receipt of payment for shaid inventory shold and credited to the marketsh in Dbebjor, eight hundred golden chainsh and forty two shilver linksh confederate shtandard,” read Blid.īorf grunted again, a sound like two boulders scrapping across one another before producing another parchment. Borf produced another item, a heavy clinking sack with a scrip of paper tied to it. “Captain Rorsh’sh inventory,” said Blid breaking the seal to scan the document. Reaching into the saddle bag he wore like a hip pouch on his belt he withdrew first a rolled parchment. Borf did not answer with words so much as a long, low rumble that threatened to rattled pictures off the wall. “Have you proof of your endevorsh?” he asked in the common tongue so the scribe sitting behind him could record the conversation for his records. They assessed and reported the comings and goings of captains, of hauls and cargos of slaves and plunder and it was through manifests and tallies that treachery was discovered. Most of them were former employees of Knups Guild, factors, scribes, accountants and functionaries, these he had in Greenhall, in Ralhearth in DoonaRuk, in the Seven Cities and even some amongst the savage amazon tribes. All of this Blid oversaw, he and his own small but growing army of employees. With this wealth she bought ships, she bought crews and she bought mercenaries all eager to ply her bloody trade on all the shores of the known world. Thanks to them her plunder, coinage from a dozen different markets and untallied goods, was weighed, measured and transformed into uniformed cash in the form of golden drachmas and silver shekels. Then of course there was the bank in Nowea, old, venerable and invested in the high stakes, high yield business venture of Queen Argora Blackbolt, the orc who had saved the lives of the four very rich, very powerful Magisters therein from an assassination attempt. All of these things profited before the acquisition of new slaves and new plunder was factored in and there was a river of both flowing in from captains whose loyalty was well paid for. Then there were the amazons, they tithed to her, bringing her tribute swearing oaths of fealty, pledging her warriors. They in turn with their fortunes on the rise were poised to expand against their neighbors under Argora’s black lightning bolt banner.

She had acquired through hostile negotiations the kingdom of her birth DoonaRuk, a small and insignificant place in the grand scheme of things in the far north but through shrewd maneuvering Blid now collected a regular tax and sent a river of trade and resources there turning a regular profit. Rather than hold these things in a stranglehold as the Guild had Blid changed tariff laws and restrictions, he hired and he paid locals revitalizing a market that had been milked dry by greedy men like Knup, Argora’s former business partner and Guild Master now languishing in a prison cell in the depths of Greenhall. Her conquest of the Slavers Guild was in his ledger as a hostile business take over which meant she owned the shipping and warehousing for the majority of the granaries and fisheries there. Ralhearth was hers in all but name as he had bought out its slave markets and she had killed the demon thing that had lorded over it before her. He was Vanolosé though in body mind and spirit, coin and commerce was his prerogative and so he tallied and recorded, he invested, he bought and he sold in Argora’s name until her fortunes doubled, then tripled. He was not proud exactly, he had been too close to the loathsome work that his employer plied on the world, raiding, reaving and slaving on unsuspecting shores for that He had nurtured it from its infancy, from his first inventory of Argora Black Bolts treasure horde located on the first page of his first tatty journal to the thick iron bound tome chained to his belt now. He was watching the rise of a savage kingdom and with each stroke of his pen, each tally of his abacus he was helping it grow. His enormous ham sized hands festooned with rings shook so that he had to stay his quill above his ledger for fear of blotting it with ink. Blid sat back in his chair, ignoring the ominous creak as it weathered his great weight.

Yakyak horn