The sturdy old door swung inward with a creak, and all four of the hopeful onlookers peered inside. The interior of the ancient building was dark, but streams of light poured in from various windows and cracks in the ceiling. There was a layer of dust coating the area, and cobwebs hung from every corner. As they studied the room, the breeze from the open door caused one of the old tables to finally crash to the floor.
The four exchanged glances: The White Lion Inn had clearly seen better days. But...
Where some of the furniture had fallen into disrepair, there was still some sat as solid and comfortable-looking as it always had, and the sturdy oak bar looked as if all it needed was a good polish. This might not be so bad after all - if someone just had the drive to make it happen. And, as the brand new owners of this once-illustrious locale, it looked like it was up to them.
"Wow! It's perfect!" exclaimed Esmee. "Look Angela, finally a place where we can have our bottoms pinched, that we own!" With that Esmee ran to each piece of furniture and caressed it with glee all the while incoherently babbling in excitement.
Babbles walks in careful testing to make sure the floor doesn't fall a part beneath him. "Tha place is ah dump." He says with a huff and looks around the place a bit more, "But we'll be changin tha soon enough" he adds with grin.
"The fact that we own it doesn't mean I suddenly want to have my bottom pinched here, Esmee!" Angela replied, going a bit red in the ears.
She'd heard her family tell tales of this place in the glory days, but she'd never seen it in anything other than the supremely dilapidated state in which it now rested. Babbles was right, together they could restore this place and even raise it above what it was. Still.
She turned to Eliam, who was way smarter than her. "We'll need heaps of gold to fix this, won't we? W-where are we going to get it all?"
"Perfect?" Eliam scoffed, making a very criticizing glance at the whole building. He eyed the old table that just crashed onto the floor then watched in revulsion when Esmee started touching the old furniture. "Do you have any idea where those've been and what's been on them?"
When Angela directed her question at him, Eliam paused. Uhhhhhhh.
"We'll have to make a plan first, of course!" the young wizard declared imperiously. "We need to know what we need to do so we can do it!"
On a roll, Eliam continued speaking, "We can use some of our own money as initial capital. We should make our goal to start making this place earn for itself as soon as possible, but we may have to perform other activities to make up for it in the meantime."
From outside, there could be heard the faint ringing of a rythmic bell from the far-off village square. The village chapel had been abandoned for years, the bell long since been scavenged for the copper, so the source was something of a mystery.
Eliam was the first to realize the discrepancy. "There shouldn't be any bell in Speck capable of reaching this far."
Curiosity guiding him, Eliam said to the others, "We should see what that's about. There's little we can do here right now except to catalog everything, and that can wait until later when this place has aired out a bit." And this way I have more time to think of a plan....
Babbles rolled up his sleeves and began to look at what might be saved and what was completely unsalvageable.
"You can go check tha bell out," he said, "Ah'll get started here. The sooner tha place is cleaned up, tha sooner we can begin tha repairs."
He then began to go about removing the ruined furniture and such from the tavern and general cleaning. all the while murmuring something about people should have more respect for a place of ale.
"Right. Um. We'll go look at the bell then. It's probably some sort of important message! Or slavers." [b]
Angela shivered, and stepped behind Eliam. (The only other tall member of the party). [b]"It's probably not slavers though! Let's go take a look!"
She gave Eliam a small shove. "B-but you go first.
"I like bells, maybe once that one is done ringing we can install it here in the tavern. In case of emergencies." Esmee exclaimed as she ran out the door, calling Samson to her side. The small bear stretched as it stood up and lumbered to her side, a long suffering look upon his face.
Eliam, the only relatively tall person considering he's still shorter than Angela, frowned at Angela when she shoved him. "Don't do that."
He nodded at Boros. "And you … you go do that."
Turning to the others, he said, "Alright, let's go!" He led the way towards town, thinking of plans for the inn.
As the four come upon the village square, they are met by a sight both impressive and unusual for Speck. Half a dozen mounted men, clad in the green and blue livery of the West Varisia Trading Company, wait on the small hill in the center underneath the great oak tree. One of them holds a fine brass bell, clearly the source of the din you heard earlier.
Another man, unmounted and dressed in much finer clothes than the others, awaits in front of the others with a haughty expression on his face. A few of the town's elders are gathered nearby, discussing something quietly. Nearly all the rest of the town's residents are milling about, chatting to one another; most are quite obviously discussing the strangers, but no one seems to have a clue what they're doing here yet.
Eliam took one look and then headed to someone who did have a clue as to what was going on. He walked towards the elders, pushing through other people and demanded, "What's going on?"
Angela stepped quickly behind Eliam, still not entirely sure they weren't about to be sold into slavery. Furthermore green and blue looked terrible together! Oh why did he have to push through and draw attention to them?
She leaned forward to Eliam, towards his ear. "Careful. They're merchants." Angela said in a menacing tone, giving a serious nod at the end.
"Of course I know they're merchants!" Eliam hissed. "What I want to know is what they're doing here. The presence of one of the most prestigious trader's guilds in Speck could be the boost our business needs if played right."
The wizard, impatient as his question remains unanswered for a scant few seconds, started looking around. "And someone get Boros over here. He'll have more experience with them. He may have traveled with one of their caravans."
"Ah. Young Ronwe, is it?" Elder Brannet, head of the Village Council, turns to frown at the brash wizard. His salt-and-pepper beard cover a frown crossing his harshly lined face. Even in his old age, Brannet is not a small man, although his smith's arms have withered somewhat in his retirement.
"We've tried to find that out ourselves, but that one," he continues, jerking his head in the direction of the imperious man standing at the group's head, "Refuses to say anything until we've "gathered all our peasants" here."
The little gathering mutters to itself a mite angrily at that, clearly not pleased with the manners of the strangers. "Still, nearly everyone's here now, perhaps they'll get on with whatever they're here for soon."
Eliam bristled at 'Young' but shoves away his irritation. "I hope it's something good; he looks like a pompous arse."
Esmee, seeing Eliam and Angela crowd the town elders decided to take a more direct approach, and marched up to the main merchant and asked, "Are you a slaver, my friend Angela says the bell could mean that slavers are here to take us all away. But I really like it here in Speck and am not ready to leave. By the way, I really love that outfit you are wearing, the colors really work well together." After one quick breath, Esmee continued on "Oh and this is my good friend Samsom. He is a bear. He likes berries and grubs and cheese. But we don't feed him cheese anymore, that becomes a problem overnight. You see, bears and cheese while seemingly a good idea, in truth, really isn't..."
The spokesman, with a look of annoyed distaste for the still-babbling Esme, stepped forward, past her and cleared his throat. At that, the outsider with the bell rang it once more, and all six of the riders came to attention, forming up behind their spokesperson. Esmee suddenly found herself almost directly beneath one of the horse's heads, who was eying Samsom with slightly dilated pupils and flaring nostrils.
The spokesman withdrew from his belt an oversized scroll, unrolled it, and in a deep, penetrating voice belying his stature, began to read.
"Attention, citizens of Varisia! It is my distinct honor to inform you, on behalf of the West Varisia Trade Company, that as of the 1st of Lamashan in the year 4713, all Trade Company caravan travel along this causeway," he said, indicating the main road through town, "Shall cease."
There was a disturbance in the crowd, as several of the townsfolk muttered to each other nervously about this announcement. All the caravans, stopping? There was hardly any trade as it was.
Giving his announcement a brief appropriate pause, the spokesman continued on. "With the construction of the new Great Highway connecting the mighty cities of Korvosa and Magnimar, the Company will be devoting its resources there. However! The West Varisia Trade Company is mindful of the impact this decision will have on the rural communities that have long depended on and supported our travel.
Any citizen from the rural communities that wishes to move from their present locale to an approved location along the Great Highway will be given adequate compensation for their land and holdings, as well as the opportunity to continue supporting Varisian trade in a productive manner." This is met with a general stunned silence.
...Leave?
Eliam's left eye twitched and his hands tightened as his mind struggled to salvage his plans.
Leave? He couldn't leave! He had finally found the perfect spot to conduct his research. It was only a stroke of luck that he happened upon this one and the chances of him finding another suitable location was close to non-existent.
The wizard exhaled heavily and brought a hand to massage his forehead. No, not everything was lost yet. No matter the great influence the official use of the roads by the trade company were, there were still other ways to subsist.
However, they wouldn't be able to do it alone.
"Well, Old Brannet?" Eliam said in challenge, turning to face the head of the village council. "Are you going to take them up on their offer?"
Angela crossed her arms, moving to stand just behind Eliam. "Let me get this straight. At great inconvenience to ourselves, you want us to up and leave...? We need you to keep this town running. You're one of the only people we buy from! Now w-we have to move, and you want us to move to a place where we can keep buying things from you, only now at your convenience...?
Angela bit her lip. It sounded bad. At least they weren't building the highway through her town. But they were just trying to strong-arm her town.
Esmee tugged on the spokesman's tunic, and demanded in a shrill squeak. "You mustn't change the route! This is the only soil that properly supports my Goodberry research! Esmee then ran over to Eliam, and exclaimed, "You must stop this travesty from happening! You are the only one I know who can! Maybe I should run and get Babbles and he can hew these mean ol' slavers down!"
"Esmee, take a breath!" Eliam snapped, alarmed at the gnome's faith in him. "Calm down. There is no need for violence against a whole trade company. They are not slavers. You can still stay here; they won't force you. The town just needs to stop depending on the trade route."
The wizard paused and considered the gnome's last statement, wondering if it would be worth it to avoid her panicking. "Though informing Babbles about the situation would be a good plan. He's more familiar with them."