Lorian stood on his balcony in Solara, staring out at the city streets. He had felt uncomfortable here since the day he arrived the city, but the recent events had left a bitter taste in his mouth, intensifying his discomfort. At this point, he just wanted to go back to his home, his Veridia.
The morning meeting with the three strangers was still bothering him. Back in his past life, he had sat through plenty of corporate meetings and sales pitches. But this was different. It wasn't a normal negotiation. It felt like a rigged pitch where the seller held all the cards, forcing the customers to dance to his tune. It was a classic monopoly.
But, it should have been the other way around. The island people needed the mainland's goods, not the reverse. Xal-Teth was offering things people of Tir-Luthar didn't even know existed. However, on the other hand, Tir-Luthar's products were what Xal-Teth truly needed. Yet the trio had used clever marketing to make everyone want their goods, turning that want into a desperate need. They knew their target audience, and accurately spotted their greed, and built a market out of thin air.
As Lorian stood thinking, Jax stepped up quietly behind him, "Master, one of them masked freaks from Xal-Teth is outside. Wants to talk."
Lorian let out a long breath, shaking his head without turning around, "Let him in."
He paused for a fraction of a second, then added, "Wait. Stand back, a bit out of sight, and just watch him. Don't creep him or make him sus of us."
"As you command, Master," Jax bowed and stepped back into the shadows.
What are you really playing at, stranger? Lorian muttered to himself; let's see if you do what I expect.
A moment later, footsteps scraped against the stone floor, followed by a familiar voice, "Boro of Xal-Teth bows to Mister Lorian, King of Veridia!"
"King?" Lorian chuckled, slowly turning around to face the short delegate.
Even wrapped in strange silk and wearing that bizarre mask, Boro's shape looked just like an ice-cream cone;- short legs at the bottom, a round belly stacked on top, and a smaller round head perched right above it.
"You should know I am just the lord of a small city," Lorian smirked, "A king is a title saved for someone much more powerful."
"Wealth is the source of power," Boro replied with a hint of humor in his metallic voice, "And you are among the richest men in these lands, which makes you a king in all the ways that matter."
"Wealth is power? Yeah, why not," Lorian said, trying to peer through the eyeholes of Boro's mask to find his eyes, "And some say knowledge is power. They aren't wrong, either."
"The late Grand Scholar was considered the wisest person around," Boro noted, "Yet her knowledge didn't save her in the end. Even her own peers couldn't protect her remains from being desecrated. So I doubt knowledge offers much real power. You, on the other hand…" Boro stretched out a hand in praise, "At such a young age, you took the wheel when the night was darkest and steered your people safely through a storm that would have drowned anyone else."
"I think you just ruined your own point," Lorian laughed, "Our wealth brought the trouble to our doorstep in the first place. It was my people's love for their home that helped us win."
"I beg to differ, King of Veridia," Boro said coldly, "On the contrary, it was your wealth that saved you, Mister Thorne."
"Care to explain?" Lorian's interest peaked.
"The bold moves you pulled; like dragging everyone inside your walls on a moment's notice, telling them to leave their valuable things behind; and tearing down your own economic quarter without blinking," Boro listed off, "You could only afford to make those costly choices because you were confident that your coffers were deep enough to absorb the hit. Anyone else would have suffered from policy paralysis. For without that heavy financial backup, those moves would have meant pyrrhic victory at best, and total ruin at worst!"
Lorian was surprised that this alien visitor knew so much about the war in Veridia. But he didn't let it show. In the earlier meeting Lorian had witnessed that the trio were good at having a good and ready answer for any and every question. If he pressed Boro on it, Boro would just feed him some clever lie, and Lorian wouldn't know the truth anyway. And anyway, learning the truth was going to serve him little to no good.
"Fine, I take your point," Lorian said.
He walked slowly toward Boro, drawing a jewel-crusted mithril dagger from his belt. He casually flicked the blade right where Boro's neck should be.
"If I lost my mind right now and cut your throat, do you think your money would save you?" Lorian asked softly, the sharp point resting near the mask, "Would you push me away with your physical or arcane power? Or would you chase me away by tossing your coins at me?"
Lorian leaned in close, his voice dropping to a threatening hiss, "Listen to me, my friend. In the dead of night, when a cold blade is pressed against your windpipe, it doesn't matter how much money or knowledge you have. The only real power belongs to the man holding the knife, even if he is less knowledgeable than you or much poorer."
"I never thought the lord of the wealthiest state would care more about brute force than gold," Boro said, a mix of surprise and sarcasm was in his voice, "Like the leaders of Aethelgard or Valoria."
"So, your disappointment just dropped me from a king back down to a lord," Lorian chuckled, pulling the dagger back and waving a hand to clear the tension, "You see, I am not saying strength beats wealth. I am just saying they both have limits. And…. I won't lie to you, but…. our treasuries are almost empty right now. We have to look at things differently just to survive from now on anyway."
"Well, then I think my proposal will interest you quite a bit," Boro's voice turned smooth and sweet as honey.
"I am all ears," Lorian nodded.
"We talked about setting up two factories in Solara and Port Azure to handle exclusive rights to our goods…"
"Exclusive distribution strategy," Lorian supplied.
"Pardon?"
"No…. I was just referring to the strategy itself. Instead of selling everywhere at once, you restrict access to a select few. By limiting where people can buy it, the product feels prestigious and rare. People outside the loop start craving it. You create artificial demand."
Boro went still behind his mask, taking a moment to process the words. After a short, awkward silence, he spoke, "It seems the rumors about you are true. You really are a master trader. Tradecraft is in your blood. That is why I wanted our factory in Veridia from the start. But my comrades got spooked by your reputation as a hard bargainer and thought Port Azure would let us earn better profit." Boro threw up his hands in a defensive gesture, "No hard feelings, King. Just business. Nothing Personal. I'm sure you understand."
"So you came all this way just to explain why you aren't building your factory in my city?" Lorian smirked.
"Yes, but that is only half the reason," Boro admitted, "I came to you personally because my comrades are being short-sighted. They think they can cut a better deal in Port Azure, but I disagree. I want to partner with someone capable who can help us grow long-term. A little drop in initial profit is nothing compared to what we'll make with Veridia."
"Well, thanks for the vote of confidence," Lorian shook his head, "Though I am still not sure what good it does telling me instead of your friends."
"Because I need your help to convince them," Boro lowered his voice, "As a sharp trader, you know how profitable those exclusive rights will be. So I'm asking for a little help…"
Lorian already knew what he was getting at, but he wanted Boro to say it out loud. He raised an eyebrow, waiting.
"Just make it worth their while to put the factory in your city. I'll handle the arguing! And don't worry about the cost, I've already planned for it," Boro said eagerly, leaning in close to Lorian's ear. "I'll convince my partners to build the factory in your ruined Eastern Quarter. You just have to use a tiny bit of your rebuilding budget to sweeten the deal for them. Once the contract is signed, I'll make sure we rebuild that whole quarter using less money than you originally set aside. It's a win-win for both of us. What do you say?"
"Give me some time to think," Lorian said in a serious tone.
"If you're worried about angering the First Trader of Port Azure, you know as well as I do that she'll use those trade profits against you down the road anyway. So…." Boro sounded a little desperate now.
"I said, give me some time to think," Lorian repeated, his voice turning cold and sharp, "Thank you for the offer. Now, if we are done here, Jax, would you kindly show our guest out and make sure he gets back to his room safely?"
"As you command, Master," the black panther Beastman bowed, stepping between Lorian and Boro.
Boro didn't say another word. He gave a stiff bow and let Jax escort him out.
As they walked down the quiet hallway, Boro glanced up at the tall beastman, "If you don't mind me.…"
"Ask away," Jax replied straight ahead, not even looking down at him.
"You called Mister Lorian 'Master.' Does that mean…." Boro hesitated.
"He is my master. He owns my hide, and I bleed for him till there's nothing left." Jax answered without a pause.
Boro stopped walking and stared at him, "You are smart, and you're strong. Your talents are wasted on being a slave. You could be a partner. Think about it…. I could buy your contract from your master. You'd work for us, and you'd never have to call anyone master again."
Jax stopped too, turning his cold gaze down at the alien, "Yeah, he IS my master. But he doesn't treat me like dirt. I ain't here 'cause of some piece of paper or gold. He earned it. You soft folks care too much about fancy words. We see what's behind them. I'd rather take orders from a 'master' who treats me like blood than crawl for a 'partner' who'd treat me like a grunt and stick a knife in my back the second I stopped being useful."
Boro stayed silent the rest of the way, letting Jax drop him off at his chamber without another word.
When Jax came back to the balcony, Lorian was sitting there with a full goblet of wine. He poured another cup and slid it across the small table, "Join me."
Jax bowed, took the seat, and took a slow sip.
"Well?" Lorian asked, "What do you make of him?"
"Either he's a damn fool trying to look smart," Jax tilted his head, staring into his wine, "or a smart bastard playing dumb."
"Good eye," Lorian raised his cup in a toast, "Now tell me what I really want to hear."
Jax went quiet for a moment, searching for the right words, "He smells damp."