Chapter 3: How to Make Friends and Influence People

The heavy wooden door of the Kowlick Merchant Guild slams shut behind me with a thud that declares our return. Dust motes dance in the shafts of light filtering through stained-glass windows, A hint of freshly polished wood fills the air, mingling with the scent of old books and parchment that line the shelves.

Grimsby and I sat at the nearest hardwood table across from each other following our normal end-of-day debriefing routine. Except Grimsby looked quite a bit more stressed than even his usual uptight self.

"Alright, Bert," Grimsby says, his voice cutting through my reverie like the chime of a cash register at the end of a lucrative day. "No more games. Who are you really? Why does someone want you dead?"

"Grimsby," I start, my gaze steady on his scrutinizing eyes, " I am sorry I didn't tell you sooner, but I was the merchant that people have been discussing. In the enchanted forest, I was betrayed. Thorne and his sorry excuse for a party—they were hired by Elaria to steal what was mine and leave me to die."

A flicker of surprise crosses Grimsby's face, quickly masked by his usual stoic expression. He leans back against a mahogany desk, arms crossed over his chest. I can't help but note how the ancient wood seems to creak an eerie approval of my confessions.

"Elaria?" he muses, one eyebrow arching. "Who is that?"

"I- I don't really know" I admit "They are a hooded figure who promised me an opportunity and offered the Thorne party as an escort.

I realized how lackluster my answer was only after it had already left my mouth.

"What kind of offer?" Grimsby was clearly confused by my limited context and I couldn't blame him.

"They wanted me to get supplies to manufacture a product that only I had, one of a kind, they put an initial order in and told me they would provide me with the resources I needed to make more after I got the raw ingredients from the Alchemists garden."

"What kind of product would need ingredients from a place like that? Everyone knows that forest is a deathtrap full of monsters and magical traps."

"Let me ask, did you hear the rumors of the magic beans that were found in the alchemist's garden?" I asked.

"Magic beans?" Grimsby's eyebrows shot back up in surprise. " I heard the reports but those are just a myth, Bert. I mean you can't expect me to believe that they found magic beans in that forest. I am no fool."

"They did find magic beans in that forest, Grimsby, just not the way you think. Thorne took something from me—my beans. they're not just mundane legumes, Grimsby. They hold magic, real magic. And I intend to get them back."

"Real magic beans, Bert?" Grimsby echoed, his tone of voice now tinged with disbelief. "And you're telling me that Thorne and his party stole these magic beans from you in the enchanted forest? That doesn't seem likely. They have a reputation as heroes of the realm, I mean they eat with the king every other weekend for gods' sake."

"It's true, Grimsby," I said, my voice filled with determination. "And now it's personal. I won't rest until I get my magic beans back and exact my revenge on Thorne and his band of bastards. I don't care if they dine with the gods themselves."

Grimsby's eyes narrowed as he took a moment to consider my words. "All right, Bert," he said finally, a hint of respect creeping into his voice. "You have my help in your quest to get your beans back. But I need to know just one thing."

"And what would that be, Grimsby?" I asked, my determination unwavering.

"If you manage to retrieve your beans, exactly what are you planning to do with them? Will you forget all that Elborne has done for you, and skip off to Tepid to build your fortune, or will you honor the agreement you made here by joining our guild? I hate to see my town suffer. your destiny may be with those beans Bert, but mine is here in Kowlick."

"Grimsby," I said, "I made a promise to Elborne. I mean he saved my life. I promised to help restore the guild to its former glory, And that promise stands. Even if finding my beans lead me to become the richest man in the realm. You have my word that I won't back out on that agreement. I mean just imagine with our sales ability, the reputation of the guild, and an amazing product what we could achieve."

Grimsby let out a deep exhale like he was holding his breath.

"Alright, if it can help Kowlick and help you I guess I am in then. But no more secrets!"

"Okay okay, I almost forgot and I should tell you, I also have a magical sword." I said unsheathing Dealbreaker out of its hidden scabbard that was set behind my sales cloak.

"I- how did you get that? Why didn't they steal that from you?" Grimsby stumbled over his words taken aback by the now brandished blade.

"I don't know! I was in the forest and it just appeared! I guess maybe it's like magically bound to me or something."

Grimsby almost said something else, but instead just smiled in response, and with a firm handshake, we made the greatest bargain one can make, the unbreakable agreement of true friendship.

Dealbreaker gleamed in approval.

The shrill sound of my quarters door being violently unlocked jolts me awake. Before I can fully register what's happening, Elborne's looming figure fills the doorway, his eyes glowing with fury. Without a word, he barks out an order for me to meet him in his office later that afternoon, slamming the door shut with a loud bang.

I need to talk to Grimsby.

I found Grimsby sitting at his normal table where he usually enjoys his morning coffee before starting his day. Grimsby was a mess, scrambling papers about and running his hands through his hair repeatedly, with every pass looking more disheveled.

"Hey, Grimsby" I said as I approached, trying to seem casual even though I could feel the tension.

"This is your fault" The camaraderie we had yesterday was seemingly absent now in his voice.

"So, I take it Elborne paid you a visit too?"

"Yes Bert he visited me too, and I have never seen him so angry! Do you not understand that this could ruin my career? What you did at the last sales call was insane!" I don't know how I let you get me all caught up in this, I never do things like this." Grimsby was working himself up into a frenzy, his speech getting faster and faster.

"Grimsby, you need to relax, we can fix this, and I have a plan."

Grimsby said nothing but gave me a look of reluctant expectation

"Here is what we are going to do."

Grimsby and I went to work, and after 6 hours of dying, pasting, and commiserating, we knew we were ready. Ready to pitch the plan that was either going to save or lose our jobs.

As the clock struck two, Grimsby and I began our pilgrimage to Elborne's office, anticipation building with every step. Without breaking stride I march into Elborne's office, Grimsby at my side, both of us armed to the teeth—not with swords and sorcery, but with colorful charts and a foolproof business plan. Our mission: pitch our potion prowess to the guild leader and brew up success from the ashes of yesterday's disaster.

"Elborne," I start, voice tinged with all of the confidence I can muster, "yesterday's fiasco was merely the compost that will fertilize tomorrow's victory garden."

Elborne's stern expression looked unmoved.

Grimsby rolls his eyes at my metaphor but stays silent. He's itching to unleash the figures and facts that we've been crunching for the last 6 hours, a stark contrast to my penchant for grandiloquence. But it's this dichotomy between us that's about to shake up Tepid's elixir economy.

"I understand that the church decided to go with another supplier, but"

Elborne abruptly interrupted me causing me to flinch from the volume and intensity

"Went with another supplier!? It took everything I could muster to keep the church from filing charges with the local guard against our company! Get to the point Bert before I lose my patience and send you packing!"

I paused letting the energy settle a bit in the room. I looked over to Grimsby and was met with a half-defeated shrug of the shoulders. gods I hope I didn't overestimate this presentation.

"Behold!" I gesture dramatically to our first chart, which illustrates a bell curve—except this one's adorned with cartoonish vials and bubbling potions.

"Our market analysis shows a gap in the potion industry just begging to be filled by the innovative Kowlick Guild!"

Elborne leans in, his eyes sharpening behind thick spectacles that have seen more profit margins than most warriors have seen battles. The old man may carry the weight of years, but his business acumen is as keen as ever. Unfortunately, his demeanor didn't budge an inch.

"Using Grimsby's cut-to-the-chase approach," I continue, imbuing my words with the upbeat inflection that has always served me well, "We have the infrastructure to manufacture, you have the best sales duo in the realm, now all we need is your okay on this." —we'll not only corner the market, but we'll be equipped to capitalize after we unearth those beans Thorne made off with."

"The Beans?" Elborne quirks an eyebrow, "the same beans from the rumors, the ones supposedly stolen from you?"

"Ah, yes," I say, brandishing a playful wink. "The very same beans that will lead us to untold riches and restore the Kowlick name to its former splendor."

"Show him the projection, Bert," Grimsby interjects, tapping the next chart with a sense of urgency. His dry humor is absent now, replaced by a fervor that only comes from someone who lives and breathes commerce.

"Right." I flip the page. "With my Dealbreaker blade"—I unsheathe just enough silver for effect—"growing stronger with each sale, and Grimsby's expertise, we're not just pitching products; we're promising progress."

"You plan to take them by force, against Thorne and his famous heroes?" Elborne mutters, nodding slowly.

"Not force necessarily Elborne, but by injecting ourselves into the Tepid elixir, potion, and extract market. By dominating the market we can corner them in the field that we know best, by playing to our strengths. Okay, and maybe a little bit of force, but that is personal."

"Exactly," Grimsby says, his tone flat but his eyes alight. "We'll climb levels of market dominance while tracking down our stolen goods."

"Revenge and restoration," I muse aloud, meeting Elborne's gaze with fire burning in my own. "It's more than destiny; it's good business."

"Indeed." Elborne steeples his fingers, considering our presentation. I can see the gears turning, calculating risks and rewards. "Very well. Bert, Grimsby, you have my attention—and the Guild's backing. Let's take Tepid by storm."

A surge of triumph courses through me. This is it—the beginning of reclaiming what was taken from me. I can already taste the sweet flavor of vengeance, masked as entrepreneurial spirit. With Grimsby's steadfast reliability and my persuasion skill that is growing by the day, we're set to conquer, one potion at a time.

The golden rays of the setting sun glint off the polished sign of the Kowlick Merchants Guild as we return from clinching another deal that was practically thievery. I'm grinning like a fool with a pouch of gold heavier than my head. Grimsby struts beside me, tallying our gains with a meticulous eye that misses nothing, not even the specks of dust that dare settle on his ledger.

"Good haul today," Grimsby mutters under his breath, more to his numbers than to me.

"Better than good," I say, slapping him on the back, "it's sensational."

As we reach the main doors, Elborne is there to greet us, his face etched with lines of worry and anticipation. "Gentlemen," he begins, his voice carrying the weight of months of strategy and scheming, "the time has come. We're ready to brew the concoctions that'll make Tepid City ours. But..." He pauses, and a shiver runs down my spine. "...there's a snag."

We began walking fast in the three person-wide line, gliding along the floor of the guild. Talking fast, walking faster. The stoic look of business on our faces.

"Isn't there always?" Grimsby quips, barely looking up from his figures.

"Indeed," Elborne nods gravely. "We need an ingredient found only within the Enchanted Forest. It's essential for our healing potions."

Memories flood back—shadows, whispers, and pain. My hand instinctively reaches for my side where Thorne's blade had bit deep. I swallow hard.

"Enchanted Forest?" Grimsby's ledger snaps shut, eyes sharp as flint. "That's no walk in the park."

"True," Elborne agrees. "But there may be guides—tiny-bodied creatures seen fleeing when we retrieved Bert's near-lifeless form. They could know the forest's secrets... How Thorne navigates those treacherous paths."

"Small bodies, big knowledge," I muse, feeling the stirrings of an opportunity—and revenge.

"How are we supposed to find these tiny beings Elborne?" Grimsby chimed back in sounding eager for a straightforward plan of action.

Elborne paused, in speech and movement, and then began slowly "That I do not know, but I have an old friend who might, a renowned beast tamer who lives on the edge of the other side of the Enchanted Forest. It would require you to circumvent the forest entirely but it may be worth your time. If you decide to contact him just tell him I sent you. Good luck with whatever you choose men, just know I believe in you both."

and with that, we parted ways, Grimsby and I returning to our quarters before reconvening and meeting with the guild quartermaster to be outfitted for our trials that lay ahead before bedding down for the night.

The sun peaked through my quarters' windows as I put on my leather armor, a gift from the guild, I can't help but feel conflicted. Dealbreaker, my trusty silver blade, hangs in its sheath on my back, a reminder of my duty to seek revenge for past injustices. But as I don my sales clothes and prepare to deal with potential enemies and dangers, I feel a twinge of guilt about bringing Grimsby into this, was it all a mistake?

"Grimsby," I start, turning to my partner who's donning a simple yet sturdy vest, "you've heard the tales. The forest is a death trap, a labyrinth of malice."

"I have," he replies, fastening his belt with a click. "And?"

"And I can't let you risk it," I insist. "It's my fight. My score to settle."

"Listen, Bert." Grimsby's tone hardens. "We're partners in this venture, every step of the way. Your vendetta against Thorne may fuel your courage, but our success fuels my resolve. I'm coming, whether the forest welcomes us or not."

I nod, unable to counter such steadfast loyalty. Together, we double-check our supplies: potions, extracts, and rations just in case.

"Ready?" Grimsby asks, his usual dry humor replaced by determination.

"When we get there, let's get in and get out of there," I reply, gripping Dealbreaker's hilt remembering the wolf monster that I encountered during my last visit.

"Agreed" Grimsby curtly replied

"But first, let's use some of that gold we just made and see if we can rent some horses and get some decent ration, make our initial journey a little more bearable."

We stride into the local tavern a little after noon, its walls echoing with raucous laughter and the clinking of tankards. The scent of spiced mead mingles with the smoky air, masking the underlying musk of second-rate adventurers and mercenaries who frequent this small town den, drinking away their regrets at never making it big in Tepid.

"Let's get a drink in us to soften the nerves and grease the wheels," I murmur to Grimsby, who nods, frayed nerves keeping his gaze as sharp as the edge of Dealbreaker. His tension rising the further we strayed away from the safety of the Kowlick Merchant Guild.

Grimsby and I find a secluded corner table away from the rowdy crowd, settling in with tankards of mead in hand. As we sip the sweet brew, our eyes scan the room discreetly, assessing the motley group of patrons around us. It's clear that we stand out amidst the rugged adventurers, our attire more fitting for a business meeting than a tavern brawl.

A grizzled man behind the bar catches my eye, his weathered face etched with tales of battles long fought. He seems to exude a sense of quiet strength and knowledge that intrigues me.

"Grimsby," I murmur, leaning in closer, "that man at the bar... he looks like the main guy around this place, think he knows about the good rumors floating around?"

Grimsby's gaze follows mine to the stranger at the bar, his expression unreadable as he considers the suggestion. After a moment of contemplation, he nods in agreement.

"I'm going to see if he knows anything about Thorne. Watch my back."

A sigh was all I received in response from Grimsby before he took a large pull from his tankard, but it was enough confirmation for me.

I make my way over to the bar, feeling the eyes of the patrons on me as I approach the grizzled man. He looks up from cleaning a tankard, his piercing gaze meeting mine.

"Good day to you, sir," I begin, trying to sound friendly yet assertive. "I couldn't help but notice that you seem to be a man of knowledge in these parts. Have you heard any rumors about a group led by a man named Thorne roaming these lands?"

The bartender's eyes narrow slightly at the mention of Thorne, a flicker of recognition crossing his face before he schools his features into a mask of neutrality.

"Thorne, you say?" he muses, setting down the tankard and leaning in closer. "Aye, I've heard whispers of him and his band causing trouble in these parts. What business do you have with him?"

I straighten my posture, making sure my tone carries a touch of authority as I respond, "Let me assure you, good sir, it is nothing nefarious. We seek only information that may aid us in our travels through these lands. Any insight you can provide would be greatly appreciated." The bartender's gaze lingers on me for a moment, as if weighing my words, before he nods slowly. "I see. In that case, I may have a tidbit or two that could be of interest to you. But the information comes at a price." I raise an eyebrow, not surprised by the request for payment. "Name your price, and if it's within reason, we shall pay. "The bartender leans back, a faint grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I'm a simple man with simple needs. A few gold coins should suffice. "Without hesitation, I reach into my pouch and place the requested amount on the counter. The bartender scoops up the coins with a nod of approval before leaning in closer to speak in a hushed tone. "If you're that willing to produce coin then produce a couple more."

I pulled one more coin from my pouch and slowly pushed it across the countertop toward the bartender, making sure not to break eye contact for its entire travel time.

"One more," I reply making sure my voice let the barman know that it was the final offer. "Now what more could you possibly know that would warrant additional payment?"

The bartender's eyes darted around the tavern once more, ensuring no one was eavesdropping on our conversation, before leaning in closer. His grizzled voice drops to a whisper as he speaks, "Alright, but this stays between us." He pauses for a moment as if weighing his words carefully. "Thorne and his group when they were last in here were celebrating all night, ordering round after round and talking about becoming richer than the king himself with whatever they had found in the Enchanted Forest."

My heart quickens at the mention of the Enchanted Forest, my mind flashing back to the betrayal and near-death experience I faced within its mystical depths. Despite the trepidation swelling within me, I keep my expression neutral, not wanting to reveal any hint of fear to the bartender.

"Richer than the king, you say?" I prompt, trying to sound casual despite the urgency gnawing at me. "Do you know where they headed after their celebrations? Any specific location mentioned?"

The bartender leans back slightly, his eyes narrowing in thought before he responds in a lowered voice, "This is the last thing I am going to spill, and you didn't hear it from me, but one of the working girls in here last night mentioned that while she was spending some time with Thorne he mentioned a small hideout north of Tepid."

I nod, filing away the information in my mind. "Thank you for the information," I say, sliding another coin across the counter as a token of gratitude. The bartender pockets it without a word, his gaze unreadable.

As I turn to leave the bar and make my way back to Grimsby, a sudden commotion erupts at the entrance.

A group of rowdy brigand-looking types stumbles into the tavern, their loud voices and boisterous laughter drowning out the ambient chatter. My hand instinctively tightens around Dealbreaker's hilt as I watch them push their way through the crowd, a dangerous glint in their eyes that sets my nerves on edge. Among them, I catch a glimpse of one of my Nutrahealth pre-workout energy packets hanging from

the belt of one of the bandits, a surge of anger and betrayal coursing through me. This must be one of Thorne's lackeys, flaunting my stolen merchandise as if it were a trophy.

I shoot a quick glance at Grimsby, who has already risen from our table, his hand hovering near his own newly acquired dagger that was hung on his belt loop. We exchange a silent understanding before moving to intercept the group, blocking their path with determined gazes. I am surprised at how fast Grimsby is to react, I never took him for one to be so ready to participate in a bar fight, especially with a group that looked like this.

The leader of the rowdy band, a bald burly man with an eye patch and scarring on his cheek, smirks as he eyes us up and down. "Well, well, what do we have here? A couple of lost merchants wandering into the wrong place at the wrong time?"

I refuse to let his taunts rattle me, standing tall as I lock eyes with him. "We're not looking for trouble. Just passing through," I reply evenly, my grip on Dealbreaker steady and ready.

"I was just wondering how your friend here acquired that," I said pointing to the Nutrahealth packet.

The bald man's smirk falters slightly as his eyes follow my gesture to the stolen Nutrahealth packet hanging from his lackey's belt. His hand instinctively moves to pat it, a cocky grin returning to his face as he responds, "Oh, this little trinket? Found it lying around. Figured it might come in handy."

I raise an eyebrow, not buying his casual explanation for a second. "Interesting. It just so happens that I'm the one who deals in these particular 'trinkets'," I retort, keeping my tone light yet laced with a subtle threat. "And you don't strike me as the supplement enthusiast type."

The bald man's grin widens, revealing a row of crooked teeth. "Well, well, looks like we've got ourselves a clever one here," he chuckles, a dangerous glint in his eye. "Too bad for you, these 'trinkets' are now in our possession.

"But, as they say, everything has a price. Including stolen goods," I retort, my grip tightening on Dealbreaker. The tension in the tavern thickens as the other patrons sense the impending confrontation.

The bald man's lackey beside him chuckles, a cruel smirk on his face. "You think you can take us on, merchant? You and your little friend here?" he sneers, eyeing Grimsby with disdain.

I exchange a glance with Grimsby, our unspoken communication conveying a plan forming between us. With a nod from me, Grimsby steps forward, his posture exuding confidence and readiness.

"We may not look like much, but we know how to handle ourselves," Grimsby states calmly, his hand positioned near the dagger at his side. The bandits share a look of amusement before bursting into mocking laughter.

Before they can react, I make my move. With a swift motion, I draw Dealbreaker from its sheath and hold it to the throat of the leader in front of me, the silver blade gleaming in the dim light of the tavern illuminating a few drops of sweat that slowly dripped from the bald man's forehead onto its edge. The room falls silent as all eyes turn to me, the weight of Dealbreaker in my hand feeling reassuring and empowering.

"You've made a grave mistake underestimating us," I declare, my voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "Return what you've stolen, or face the consequences."

The bald man's smirk fades, replaced by a scowl as he eyes Dealbreaker warily. "You think a fancy sword makes you invincible? You're just a merchant playing at being a hero, what did you pick that blade up for a good price?" he sneers, but there's a hint of uncertainty in his voice now. His lackeys follow suit, laughing at the quip, but like their leader, the laughter is laced with nerves.

I meet his gaze head-on, my determination unwavering. "I may be a salesman, but I don't take kindly to thieves and bullies," I retort, my grip on Dealbreaker steady. "Now, are you going to do this the easy way or the hard way? Are you going to give me what's mine back and tell me where Thorne is or do I have to get blood all over my freshly cleaned sword?"

I was never so confident before in the real world, but since arriving here in Emoria I feel like the higher my persuasion skill gets the more I just say the right thing without even trying. Before I was always spending my nights in the shower replaying scenarios and thinking of what I should have said, but now I am standing with a sword to a man's neck, spouting one-liners, and I have never felt more comfortable!

With a sharp intake of breath, the bald leader raises his hands in a placating gesture. "Alright, alright, no need for violence here," he grumbles, his tone begrudging. Slowly, he reaches for the stolen Nutrahealth packet hanging from his lackey's belt and tosses it towards me. "Take your little trinket back. We found it fair and square."

I catch the packet deftly, my gaze never leaving the bald man's face. "And Thorne? Where is he?" I press, my still voice firm and demanding.

"We don't know Thorne boy, we are scavengers, we found this armor outside of the forest on a body, same as with the trinket."

I narrow my eyes, studying the leader closely for any signs of deception. His words seem genuine, and a wave of disappointment washes over me as the realization sinks in that this group is not working under Thorne's orders after all. With a sigh of relief, I sheathe Dealbreaker, the tension in the air dissipating slightly.

"Well then, it seems we had a misunderstanding," I say, trying to diffuse the situation. "Here is a few gold for your trouble and I hope there are no hard feelings."

The bald man eyes the gold I offer, then gives a gruff nod in acceptance. "No hard feelings. Just business," he mutters, gesturing for his lackeys to follow him as they make their way from the front of the tavern to their bar.

As the tension gradually fades, Grimsby and I exchange a glance, both of us silently processing the encounter.

Once the bandits are out of sight, Grimsby lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "Well, that was exhilarating," he remarks dryly, trying to mask the adrenaline still coursing through his veins with his usual sarcasm.

"Yea, let's hope the road ahead doesn't hold too much more excitement, I am not sure we can take it. Maybe we should just call it a night I feel like it's been a long enough day. We can hit the road tomorrow."

Grimsby nods in agreement, his usual composed demeanor returning. "Agreed, we've had our fill of excitement for one day. A good night's rest will do us well before we continue our journey tomorrow," he says, his voice tinged with a hint of weariness.

As we gather our belongings and prepare to leave the tavern, I can't shake off the lingering unease from the encounter with the bandits. The words they spoke about finding armor and the Nutrahealth packet on bodies outside of the forest echo in my mind, raising more questions than answers. Who could have been wearing that armor? And how did my supplements end up in the possession of strangers?