Chapter 3. Part 2.

Merchant and Wolfgirl.

A travelling merchant named Lewen Croff, arrives at the village, along with his companion, a wolfgirl named Fenra. He is injured because of a recent monster attack. She is fine, having suffered no harm while fighting off the creatures. He had come to the village following the trail of some amazing items that he had run across in the Capital. While he recovers at the Inn, she ventures into the Frightful Forest in search of an old friend.

Lewen and Fenra had been travelling together for several years, having met shortly after he parted ways with his former master. Like most travelling merchants, he had served with one master as an apprentice, then gotten a job with another as a journeyman. He had been granted his own licence as a master just short of his 30^th birthday. While most craftsmen are not granted the title of master until they are 40 or 50, travelling merchants tend to die on the job a lot. So the guild adjusted the rules to reflect reality better.

Fenra was always something of a mystery, even now. Like most wolf-people, she embraced her desires and emotions. She did what she wanted and did not bother to explain things or ask permission. A trait that made it hard for them to get along in civil society. However she could be surprisingly calm when she wanted. A good thing, because her strength and fighting ability were beyond a doubt awesome. She was a fine travelling companion, who only occasionally got them into trouble.

For now, Lewen was curious about the village and its new Lord. He was by nature interested in everything, because info can be an advantage in doing business. His old master was the type to say “knowledge is power”. So while he recovered, he talked to people, questioning them about Lord Crane. The villagers were friendly and open with their answers, but really didn't know a lot. The important thing they did know, was that their Lord does supply strange goods to the local general store.

Unfortunately for Lewen, the Lord was seldom in the village. Although it seemed like he had built himself a nice house, with fancy glass windows. The locals told him it was not the Lord's house but rather a school. A strange thing for a small village to have. Maybe it was part of a big plan.

On the day that Mark and Gwen arrive, Lewen was relaxing by the fire place, in the common room of the Inn. A mug of hot apple cider half finished, on the table next to him. Fenra sleeping nearby, “They are coming.” she said without seeming to wake up. Her sharp senses always picked up on important things just before they happened.

The young man who walked in looked exactly as Lewen had expected. That is to say, very much like the villagers had described. Tall and lean, with high quality clothes and armor, a fancy sword and belt with a bunch of pouches. He was well groomed in a generic sort of way, not fitting any style Lewen knew. He was not hansom, nor was he ugly. He moved in a way that was not practised. Unlike most nobles, who aimed to take up as much space as possible or draw attention to themselves. This young lord moved with the simple confidence of one who is among friends.

The young woman who walked in next too him, on the other hand was amazing. Only slightly shorter, with long flowing hair, she moved with effortless grace and confidence. Which almost always meant a woman had put a huge amount of effort into learning to move that way. Her clothing was typical for a mage, long robes with patterns of runes. They looked high quality enough to be actual rather than decorative symbols of magic power. Lord Cane's sister was every bit as stunning as people said.

The Innkeeper, offering no special greetings or deference, waved the pair over to the bar, so they could talk quietly for a few moments. Lewen knew it would be rude to interrupt, so he delayed his introduction. Preferring to observe and try to gain some more insight. Fenra too observed, still pretending to be sleeping.

Eventually Mark looked over at the merchant. The Innkeeper had gathered a reasonable amount of info on him, but only knew enough about his wolfgirl companion to be worried. “Croff is a strait enough story. He is very interested in doing business with you. But Fenra is a mystery. She went into the forest for three days. Took no weapons or equipment with her. She came out like it was no big deal.”

The old adventurer was sure she could be dangerous, if she wanted to be.

“Im in need of a travelling merchant, and there one sits. I see no reason not to talk with him.” Mark said. Then walked over to introduce himself. It still struck him as funny, how easy it was for him to take the initiative here, in this other world. Normally he would be racked with hesitation at meeting new people and to make the first move would have been next to impossible.

Grandpa had written “Its not a game. But life is often easy when you take it as one.” A paradox of truth.

“Greetings. Im Cane, lord of these lands. Iv been told, you would like to talk with me.” Mark said causally to the merchant.

Lewen stood up immediately and bowed. He hadn't interacted very often with nobles, but he knew all the etiquette. People said this young lord was forgetful of his status. But better safe than sorry.

“Yes, my lord. Thank you. My name is Lewen Croff and Id very much appreciate some of your time.”

With that out of the way, Mark sat down. “What is on your mind?” he asked.

“When I was recently in the Capital, I happened to chat with Mr Farthing, an acquaintance who runs a general goods shop.” Lewen began his explanation, looking for a sign of recognition, to confirm his suspicion.

Mark made no attempt to hide the fact that he knew Farthing. “and what did you two talk about?”

“He told me of the wonderful wears he got from an adventurer. And his hopes that more would come his way some day.” Lewen continued. “Unfortunately he did not know where said adventurer hailed from or where the marvellous goods came from. Being curious I decided to look into the matter.”

“And that brought you here?” Mark asked. He had been deliberately vague when talking to the merchant at Midvill and at the capital.

“Actually it first sent me north to the port of Habersbay. The logical entry point into the kingdom for exotic goods. But as no clues were at hand there, I backtracked and considered other possibilities.”

“Well that explains how you found me, but brings me no closer to knowing why.” Mark wanted it to sound playful, However he realized that it could also sound like he was growing irritated at the man's slowness to get to the point. Conversation was tricky, when you thought too much.

“I want to enter into a business deal with you, my lord.” Lewen said quickly. “I expect you would have better things to do than concern yourself with the average affairs of trade. So I would very much like to assist you in that regard.”

Mark smiled and waved at the Innkeeper. “Some more cider over here, please.” he called, before addressing the merchant again. “Wonderful timing you have. As it goes, I am looking for a new partner in the venture I aim to establish.”

Lewen smiled in a way that was both genuine and exaggerated at the same time. “Glorious day indeed. Please tell me what you have in mind, and I will help anyway I can.”

“I aim to have vendors in several cities, one per city only, who will carry my rather unique items. Dont ask where I get them, Im not about to explain that. Iv already chosen JP Farthing as my man in the Capital and Mervy Gambol for Midvill.” Mark tried to keep his excitement out of his voice and speak slowly. It was just a simple matter with all the pieces falling effortlessly into place, no reason to start babbling. “What Id like from you is to handle the transport of said items. From this village to the vendors.”

Lewen keeps a look of pleasant neutrality on his face, as he considers the implication of the deal that is on the table. “Normally there are two ways of doing business with a travelling merchant. As you may know. In the first case the merchant would buy the entire cargo and then be free do do whatever he wants with it. In the second case the merchant acts only as transport, being paid a shipping fee. He delivers it to the best of his abilities.”

Make nods “It is in this second role that I need a reliable partner.”

“I notice you use the term partner.” Lewen offers the observation.

“Indeed, I do, because I want a reliable man. Committed to the business.” Mark says it with vigour. “Im not offering a transport fee, Im offering a percent of the profits, on top of an expense account.”

So it really would be something of a partnership. Lewen had been around long enough to have heard many stories about sweetheart deals offered by nobles that were nothing more than vicious traps. So he was naturally cautious, but something in the way this young lord talked, had him convinced.

“Ok then, shall we talk specifics?”

“I will drop off a load of goods, in this village once per season. It will be up to you when you pick them up, but you should do it once per season, also. A single wagon should be all you need for the transport. You may need some protection. So you can hire some adventurers here or make your own arrangements. Their pay will come of of the expense account I mentioned. Pleas keep a list of all your travel costs. Any reasonable things will be covered. Fancy food and drinks for the whole bar will not.” Mark paused considering something, then continued, “I will be confirming with Mr Gambol in Midvill and Mr Farthing in the capital, as they are my current choices as vendors. They will have an exclusive deal, along with this village's general store, for the next year. After that we may add another location.” He paused to take a drink of his cider. Then hit the final few details regarding profit division.

Lewen took a moment to consider the plan. It sounded sensible and low risk. Maybe too good to be true. “I trust you will have a contract written, to be signed by all involved, and properly documented with the Merchant's Guild?”

“Yes, yes, Iv been drilled in the importance of paper work. I will make sure it is all official.” Marke said with a glance over at Gwen. “However there is one more point I will stress to everyone involved. Mistakes are forgivable. Accidents do happen. Im rather easy going. You will find I dont pinch pennies. But if anyone betrays me, then they will enjoy a life without their limbs.” It was a practised line Marke had been working on. An idea he stole from some film. Be friendly, but make a very specific and horrible kind of threat.