Chương 357: 8.2

Leandro mused on the paradox of mastery in his craft. He was only here because he was the youngest of the rank from his guild. Not quite too old to weather one more journey across the vaults. But still esteemed with the rank and clout of proper mastery as seen fit by his peers. Made rich and learned enough from his expertise in trudging through the star forsaken dark of the underways and the frigid horrors of the north.

But not yet so frail from comforts that he risked his death from inclement weather outside of a warm and sheltered office. So he was offered the position. Like he could have refused the riches of it!? He was to lead one fifth of the assets in the most auspicious expedition since the days of old cantor! Him! Leandro! The boy who once slept in the fields with the cattle, guiding the riches of entire kingdoms in his caravan!

The stars must have a sense of poetry to them, to match this trip to the one that had launched him from a mere wandering peddler to the master of his craft! Selling off a sun blessed philosopher bull to the Countess Wyrm herself! Not for vanity even! But an actual god blessed marriage between a speaking cow and the fine bull he'd learned to call Cetus. And what he had gotten in trade? Enough Wyrm spun wool to make paupers of lesser nobles!

All the more a sign of heaven's favor what this expedition was set to acquire! For the best business was all wyrms now! This! What Leandro was going to make absolutely sure was his last trip along the roads was wrapped up in the beasts! A last final caravan, to fulfill the contract of the Pantheon of Cantor itself. He might not only be able to take his pay in gold but heavenly act too! Such a miracle it could be for the coin he could make for this trip!

To deliver onto the diviners True Wyrm Eggs and receive that king's ransom in bounty from the greatest temple of the heavens! If he was the only master guiding this venture he'd be rich enough to buy a city outright with the exchange, even after the Guild's dues! But he was, alas, but one of five masters, each representative of one city's guild interests. But he couldn't really fault his new peers in the expedition, there would be wealth astounding enough for all of them even split five ways!

Still a bit more silver for his side of the venture couldn't hurt. Leandro listened to the sound of the sea passing through the canals outside the offices afforded him by the Orseolo family, then turned his attention back to his latest opportunity. A youthful face with all the ugly details of those northern barbarians. There was the hardness and slightly pink tinge to his skin that marked foreigners that had been spending seasons in the sunblessed lands.

But the clothes were a very fine cut, tight weave, it looked too light for the growing sting of winter storms in the Sun Blessed Vault. But that was northerners—their skin was just thicker than civilized men.

"So then, you wish to invest in our venture? I can't say I'm complaining by your offer, but it's not the usual place a retired mercenary spends their silver." The youth spoke with a heavy accent, definitely Ridgevaulk, the harshness, the almost bestial rumble in the throat, the hissing sound past the teeth? Plenty of the Viznovian lilt as well.

"I've worked with caravans, traveled and lived on the road most of my life though, so have the rest of my band. I've seen two silver turn to ten in the hands of a skilled merchant, and the word from all the sailors and mercenaries in the taverns and docks is 'you are very skilled." Leandro nodded, fingering over the expected numbers they would require for a trip into the heart of Magarska. Furthermore the budget his guild had put aside to try and acquire the Pantheon's bounty.

Adding what this northerner offered to their treasure promised to easily double his own take of it. Even with the terms from the loan via the Orseolo it would be quite the return, assuming the eggs could be acquired, but that was a given. Not much of a gamble on that. His hosts here had assured the guilds of the market, confirming the rumors that had been flying from the eastern vaults for years now.

Magarska was reaping its lands of every last wyrm nest known, no matter the cost in hunters; or the reprisals from the feral beasts for failures, dozens of them were moving through the kingdom's territory already, and Leandro and four other trusted masters had been picked to offer up prices, for the purchase of the eggs. It had been a tempting opportunity before, only delayed this long by the sheer expense needed to even broach purchasing true wyrm eggs.

But with the exiled Orseolo confirming that the court of Magarska did in fact have the eggs and silver changing at already exorbitant prices? Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. The expedition had begun to form the riches of noble families and a significant store of all five merchant guild's stored dues. Their route would be by land unfortunately, but with Magarska's current sentiment against Ouenetoia due to the exiled doge? Well a trader took the routes open to him.

And this was an opportunity of generations already. Yet there was always room for more silver to this sort of thing. The sheer bulk wealth and offerings going into the treasures due for Magarska required protection. Across all of the sun blessed vault mercenary companies and noble house guard on loan were being tapped dry for the endeavor, and still there was need for more trustworthy swords and bows to secure both the trade guild's offerings and the return journey of the eggs themselves.

He considered the vouched-for amount that the Orseolos had in safe keeping for this barbaric northerner in front of him. What was being staked would by last count make for possibly a whole additional egg, possibly two! Leandro considered the hard eyed man who barely looked more than a boy again. A newcomer to Ouenetoia according to his contacts and the Orseolos. But a mercenary who had the composure to make a journey by cave sloop and receive praise from the paranoid captains who braved those routes?

Dressed now in the fine clothing of the newly rich. This was a poor man who was spending his wealth in a secure stitch of leather over trappings of silk or gilded opulence. As much as he disliked the Viznovians and their horrible frigid lands Leandro had to admit that this was the sign of a sensible partner. All the more did it speak to the man's character that he had recognized his home's own barbarity and sought escape to proper civilization in the south. And then there was the professional side of it.

Praise from the cave sailors was no small feat for a guard on their ships, and that he commanded the twenty able bodied mercenaries even after the band was flush with riches as the Orseolos reported? That was real loyalty! And a leader that insisted on fair pay for his men was one who had not simply stumbled into that kind of fortune. A stranger this young man might be but strangers of such means and leadership were not common. Leandro would have preferred to only call on those he'd worked with before.

But an over cautious merchant was a pauper. And he needed more men that could be trusted to not be tempted. The wealth coming into this venture was already astounding, enough to align five different cities, two noble houses here in Ouenetoia! He needed someone who would have investment in success all the way from Terminapolis to Cantor with a kingdom's ransom under their guard.

And miracle of the heavens, here came a newly rich Mercenary, secure in his place in the world, trusted by a loyal band and looking to not only work but invest in the venture! That northern hardness was familiar, the guttural voice, Leandro's own experience with trips north spoke plenty of how hard these people could be. And with the recommendation from the cave sloop captains and word of his more distant partners the Orseolos? Leandro would be a fool not to accept.

And he'd given up on most of his foolishness ten years ago. The terms of the investment were more than generous, in precisely the way you'd expect one newly minted in wealth to be, he feared what the poor boy was paying the Orseolos if this was the terms after their own piece of it? It was so generous towards Leandro in fact that he was going to insist on paying out the mercenary better than he asked.

Leandro fingered at his list, even after this northman and his band joined there were still at least another fifty guard positions that needed to be filled and all their supplies secure. With the investment promised here? He could easily hire the missing number and not even need to reach into the guild's allotment to him. More silver for his pocket, or more likely offering to sweeten the deal for an egg.

Leandro did not sigh, he did not give away what he had just realized, but inside he quietly admonished himself for risking such a lucrative addition. The decision was already made, if he'd been a journeyman his puttering could be excused, but not as a master! Any more deliberation just wasted time.

The merchant had many more to vet and likely some much more difficult considerations then a mostly unknown man giving Leandro money who by the looks of him at worst might be a partially disinherited son of some northern nobility. He could by the accent speak at least two languages. And Ridgevaul had a similar growling basal quality to some of the more common tongues in Magarska. Leandro sighed and surrendered to the obviousness of it–this was a good deal, his gut was sure of it.

"Well then, Radomil Adason, welcome to the Bulchavan Enterprise! If you'd just make your mark here for now, we will be having a proper indentured contract written up for you and your band's share in the caravan in the next five days!" The hard faced man nodded, put down a simple mark of the less literate and learned.

With that business settled Leandro waved the hard eyed northman away and marked another-hmm hard sort those northmen, he'd say they counted as another twenty five men over regular sunblessed land-stock. Now then, with investment secured, Leandro looked at his tentative roster for the fifth of the caravan's provisions and protection he was in charge of. It still warranted a breath just heavily enough it didn't disturb his stacks of parchment.

This still left him probably having to sort out at least two more mercenary bands from potential hires. And if the pattern of the last eight holds he'd have to go through another six to even find those. Ugh, and it wasn't even late enough in the day he could say he should stop. The old merchant set his papers in order and stood with a slight creak in his spine.

Then stretching out his legs Leandro Master Caravaner and Merchant made his way to the Guild's lobby where the posting had been made to gather Mercenaries interested in a caravan to the east. Bracing himself for the uproar that would be, he made his way to the next interview; whoever that turned out to be.