“Okay, last question. Where do you see yourself in five years?” With his elbows rested on the dark wood before him, Corco crossed his hands in front of his face. Meanwhile, the young man with the sharp nose on the other side of the desk seemed sufficiently flustered by the gesture. He looked around the room, towards the other men who sat at the enormous table which formed the centerpiece of the company's new conference room. In the end, he must have received some silent encouragement from one of Corco's colleagues, since he managed to calm his erratic breath before he presented his answer in a halting voice.

“...as far as I understand, sire, you wish to hire for apprenticeships and permanent positions. I would... expect to still be here in five years. Is this... is that not possible?”

Corco leaned his face closer behind his still crossed hands for dramatic effect. Smirk well-hidden and brows lowered, he gave the young would-be merchant the menacing stare only a boss could have. As the youngster straightened up in his chair, he swallowed dry air, his hands wringing and twisting like eels in a barrel. Suddenly, with a start, the young man jolted in his chair. While he put on the friendliest smile he could muster, Corco had abruptly stood up from his chair.

“Of course you can,” he answered, at last, as he leaned forward to present his hand. “You can start tomorrow. Welcome aboard.” With a final handshake between the two, the newly hired accountant excused himself and left the room, all while he wiped the sweat off his brow with a cheap rag.

“At all other times I'm not one to complain, but what purpose does that question even serve? You've been asking that 'five year' stuff every single time, and not once have we gotten back more than fear and confusion. You wanna make the new hands respect you or something?”

To his left, Atau looked at the signature their newest employee had left behind while he complained, as he was wont to do.

“Nah, it's just tradition. Pretty sure you can't do a job interview without asking that question. Must be some universal law or something.” Accompanied by his irresponsible answer, the prince took a seat again. “How many does that make now?”

“This 'Berrat' is the third new hand we've hired today. Another six from the old Fastgrade's business days have found their way back as well, even after a full year out to dry. That makes nine. Should be enough for now. We can get some peons from the market or the harbor whenever we got stuff to lug around. Maybe we can hire a few extra apprentices for chores, but that should be the lot. We don't have that much money left in the first place,” Atau answered, still immersed in the list of names he held up in his front.

“It's good that accounting is this far developed in Arcavia. I mean, they'll still have to learn some more advanced maths...” As Corco spoke, Fadelio on his right underlined the prince's speech with a groan. His attendant really didn't take to mathematics, so it was something Corco promptly ignored. “...but at least we don't need to teach anyone about double entry bookkeeping or archiving. It saves us a lot of time.”

“True. Helps that this is a merchant town in the first place. We'll be hard pressed to find this many talented people elsewhere,” Atau added.

“How many more are there anyways? All this sitting around is driving me insane. I need to get outside and move my feet,” Fadelio complained.

“This one should've been the last of the lot. I'll go ask.” Atau was about to stand up when a knock on the door interrupted his action. He took his hands off the fancy armrests and seated himself once again, as did the crown prince. As soon as everyone was in position, a short “come in” prompted the door to open.

From outside entered the face of Brym, together with the left half of his torso. The youngster had been doing the receptionist's job, since no one else had been available for the work up until now. “Boss, there's a guest here. Sir has come to give his regards.”

In answer to Corco's short nod, Brym stepped inside the room and opened the door to reveal a slim man in frilly dresswear. With the white laced shirt and the puffy sleeves, his clothing reminded Corco of a magician from the nineties rather than a merchant. According to the man himself, it was a look he had picked up in his travels up and down the west coast of the continent. Though as his pale, wrinkly skin and the gray streaks in his hair showed, it had been a long time since he had been forced to do any traveling himself. Kolbrandt Devaerter, elected head of Etra's merchant guild, hadn't needed to do anything in person for a long time. He had people for that.

“Kolbrandt, what a pleasant surprise. Welcome to our little shop.” Together with his two seated companions, Corco stood up and walked around the table, towards the smiling man. While he stepped over the soft carpet, the prince showed off the subdued style of the room around him with opened arms. The darker tones of brown and red from the expensive woods gave the whole surroundings a certain gravitas, while the scattered plants in the corners did much to inject an underlying lively mood.

“I am very glad to see such frank welcome, Lord Corco. Though I would hardly call it a 'little' shop. It is a true marvel to see how much could be extracted from the bones of the old Ulver's former shop.”

After a firm handshake, Corco showed the merchant over to the side, where a suite of upholstered banks awaited the guests around a kitchen table. The short table wasn't a type of furniture people would usually see in Arcavia. Thus, it had been fashioned especially on Corco's instructions, something brought over from their very own Medala Empire.

“Since the building itself was so cheap, we ended up with much more to spend on the interior. Been a pretty good deal for us, all in all. Oh, and please stop calling me lord. I'm not an arcavian noble. I wouldn't want the wrong people think otherwise and start making trouble.”

As they walked over to their seats, the guest nodded his head with a practiced smile before he returned to the topic at hand.

“Still, the cheap price comes at a cost as well, so some caution would be in order. You should be well aware of the strange rumors, sire. No merchant who has been housed within these walls could sustain his business for more than a few years. Beyond that, they ended up bankrupt, or worse, all of them.” With a frown, the merchant and the three noble warriors took a seat, while Brym brought a few cups and some light wine. Though Corco enjoyed showing off, Brandy might have been a bit much this early in the day.

“I'm not superstitious, so that's a nonissue, really. In the end, we're gonna take every advantage we can get. Bold and miserly, that's the only way to do business.”

“A good bon mot to live by. I will make note of it.” As his smile grew a bit wider and the slightest bit more honest, the merchant moved the conversation forward. “How have recruitments been getting on?”

“Fruitfully,” Corco said. “Your recommendation has really done us a favor. We've gotten three highly skilled workers out of nowhere.”

“I would call it mutual help, rather than a favor. With how... unpredictable the lordships are around Etra, there are always eager young men looking for work after their old employer has gone belly up. Even more so now with all that tension out at sea.” The merchant took up the wine for a taste, but barely wet his lips, if that. Corco had always found Devaerter to be a careful, rational man. Exactly the kind of person he could do very good business with.

“More tension will only be to our advantage. I doubt we'll share their fate any time soon.”

“Of course not. Not with the exclusive product and reputation you possess, sire,” the lord said as he swung the cheap green glass cup around in his hand. For now, crystal glass was much too expensive for their little operation to stock up on. It was something Corco was determined to change in the future.

“Not 'you', Master Devaerter, we,” the crown prince corrected with a raised finger. “You should remember our agreement. You handle the transportation of our wares to overseas lordships and in return you get a third of the profits.” Though it was something Atau wouldn't stop complaining about, Corco found the deal with the Etra merchant more than beneficial to their cause. In the end, they didn't have their own ship, nor the money to buy one, and it wouldn't be feasible to carry all the supplies over land, past dozens of toll stations and dangerous areas filled with lords and bandits. Plus, cutting in the local despots would give them some much needed peace of mind.

“Yes, I recall quite well,” Devaerter replied, “In return, the great seer should also not forget that the agreement includes a share in the losses should one of the vessels fail. Since my ships will transport the goods of another trader, I cannot shoulder all the dangers by myself. Long-distance trade is risky by its very nature, even more so down and around the Perillian Coast.”

“Yeah, we can agree on that. Ah, this reminds me. I want to get one or two of my own people onto your ship, to make sure nothing happens to my investment.” Though Corco's request and the way he brought it forth could be considered rude, the merchant still smiled just the same as before.

“A wise choice. It pays to be careful, in matters like this more than in any others. However, my ships don't load passengers, only sailors. I won't let a land rat board my vessels.”

“Then what about Atau over here?” Corco gestured over to his cousin, who had been quietly sipping his wine as he listened in on their conversation.

Interested, Devaerter turned to measure the tall warrior with his deep-seated eyes. From one moment to the other, the merchant had disappeared. What replaced him were the sharp eyes and sharper voice of a fleet's captain. “Hmmm, at least in stature you seem like you can handle yourself. Have you ever been at sea, youngster?”

“I've been on ships since my youth and sailed across two of the great oceans. That enough?” Atau replied with a casual look, clearly unhappy with the way he was being assessed. The captain didn't mind his new recruit's attitude. Instead, he was happy at the youngster's usefulness.

“Good, someone who knows how to handle himself aboard a ship. We would be glad to welcome you-”

Another tumult from the door stopped the captain's words. As the noise went closer and closer to the door, the four seated men looked over with concern. Seconds of tension passed until the heavy door burst open and swung against the wall behind it, producing a loud bang. Revealed was, once again, Brym, who squirmed around as his shoulder was held down by a tall, armored figure from the back. Without remorse, he pushed the much smaller Brym into the room, where he stumbled forward until he was caught by Corco.

“Big Bro, he wouldn't listen. He just burst in...” Brym said in a whiny voice. In response, the intruder looked over to the prince as well. Though his eyes could not be seen through the full helmet, his voice still transmitted his contempt.

“So you must be the so-called seer Corcopaca Fastgrade then,” the attacker said with the haughty, nasal tone which was so common for the nobles of Arcavia. “I come with a message from the great Duke Herak of Balit. He forbids the Fastgrade merchants any further mercantile actions near his borders. Otherwise, prepare to feel the bear's fury.”

“Excuse me, Sire.” Rather than Corco, Devaerter stood up to answer the threat, “as far as I understand, Etra is not part of the duke's lordship, no matter how much he wishes for it. I would like to see the Duke try to enforce his will here, on a member of Etra's merchants union.” As he spoke, the merchant, armed with nothing but supreme confidence, marched over and stared right into the messenger's covered face.

“We will see what the future holds,” the masked knight said, “you have been warned. The duke had the grace to let you go once before. It is your choice whether or not to tempt your fate.” Thus, he turned and left through the open door.

“Master Fastgrade, what will you do now?” After the stranger had left, worry was written all over Devaerter's face. Corco was sure the concern was over lost profits, rather than their group's safety, but it didn't matter. With a toothy grin, the merchant prince gave the only possible response.

“What else? Let's make some cash.”