Chapter 12

Breakfast was a cozy affair alongside Stig's wife, Vera, and two little girls, both not even two digits in age yet but still old enough to ask tons of questions. Ivar was happy to answer most, not showing a hit of how hungover he must have been, while I on occasion stepped in. Nothing inappropriate for minors of course, but I had to get creative to make sure Ivar didn't mention any gory details regarding monsters. It was fun to say with total honesty that true love really did exist and that it did have the power to break some curses, much to their disgust about how boys were gross and their mother giggling behind her hand.

Of course, now Ivar was determined to scientifically understand true love, its' effects in regards to curses that transformed humans into monsters, whether or not to qualify it as a type of magic, and a dozen other things.

If it wasn't for the possible Nilfgaardian plot Stig was likely mixed up in somehow I would think his life was pretty good.

"Momma, can we bring Witcher to meet our friends? They'd never believe that we met one unless we show it's true!" the youngest asked with her best puppy dog eyes that I most likely would have fallen to.

Mother's were made of sterner stuff it seemed and all Vera did was put her hands on her hips.

"I'm sure Markus and his friend have better things to do than show off for you troublemaking friends, not to mention you two have your lessons to do. So off with you!" she shooed them off gently.

I couldn't help but smile as the two of them ran off to their rooms. It was a good reminder that this world still had innocent and wonderful people in it worth protecting.

"Lessons? While I am all for the spreading of knowledge I must say having a teacher for them must cost more than a few bizants." Ivar noted.

"Having your husband be the captain of the guard comes with a few perks, in this case the pay for a tutor and connections to find one willingly to work pretty cheaply for us 'lowlies' rather than rich merchants or nobles. Last thing I want for my girls is them having to work in a tavern for years dealing with drunken gropers before settling down with some meathead. Not every girl is lucky enough to marry one of the few decent meatheads around who works hard for his family and doesn't sleep around with some tart. Stig has his flaws, all men do, but I wouldn't trade him for the richest man in Kovir and Poviss." Vera said with love and pride.

Uggh, right in the heart! Stig, whatever spy stuff you are up to better not hurt this family or I will hunt you down myself!

"Good to hear, when I become a professor and if they profess a desire to advance their learning I could always write a letter of recommendation to University of Lan Exeter. There are too few female scholars in my personal opinion, and the ones I do know are much better company than old men… not in that way mind you!" Ivar hastened to correct after realizing how sleezy that might have sounded.

"I got your meaning and promise to take you up on that if any of them end up smarter than either of their parents. Might not be too far off." Vera smiled at the thought.

"As heartwarming as this conversation is, we really should be going. Thank you for your hospitality and we hope to see you again before we have to least the city. We have matters to attend to and don't want to leave with any unfinished business." I said as I stood up from the table and strapped my swords to my back.

"I understand. Don't be strangers now, you hear?"

"Of course, ma'am/As you command Mis." Me and Ivar said at the same time before taking our leave.

The most important thing right now was cashing in promissory note, and since I couldn't carry all that coin with me all the time unlike in the game that meant I needed to make a bank account.

Thankfully I was aware of a few international banks in the Witcherverse that I had no doubt would be operating out of the capital of the richest nation in the north.

---

The business district of Pont Vanis certainly had what I was looking for, namely a number of banks that worked hard to be impressive looking. All of them were dwarven, interestingly enough - did humans just not like banking? Did the dwarves have a monopoly on the industry? Eh, not that I knew, and not that it mattered at this time. There were four main international banks on the Continent run by four dwarven families: Zammorto, Giancardi, Cianfanelli, and Vivaldi. All of them were in the same general district in the city, but not too close together. I suspected it had as much to do with avoiding direct competition as it did overcrowding. For me, it just meant that I had to walk that much further to actually reach the blasted places.

The first one Ivar and I visited was the one I was most familiar with, the Pont Vanis Vivaldi and Sons Bank branch. Identifiable due to their heraldry of five circles on red posted on front of building. It was three stories tall, built using white marble of all things and with a red-tiled roof. It reminded me of pictures of Greek ruins back home with the materials and color scheme. The top two floors had windows, but the bottom was built like a fortress. There was only one door, and it was built from wood sheathed in iron, protected by four guards with halberds and crossbows, and as Ivar and I walked in we could see a heavy steel crossbar that could be brought down on the inside. It was all quite impressive.

If all their branch banks were built like this, security-wise, I guess the only reason why the Scoia'tael could break into one in Vizma is because the plague and change in ownership messed with their security standards.

We walked up to the human teller, protected as they were behind some iron bars, who greeted us with a smile.

"Welcome to the Pont Vanis branch of Vivaldi and Sons Bank, how may I help you today?"

"I'm here to redeem a promissory note and possibly open up a bank account." I answered.

"Splendid! Can you please hand me the note so that I might see how much you are owned."

I pulled out folded note and did just that.

The teller took a minute to read it over… then another… he then pulled out a magnifying glass and really looked it over, most likely to make sure it wasn't a forgery or something. Then he finally turned picked his head up and looked at me slack-jawed .

"I… this is is a great deal of money you are owed, and forgive me for saying I am surprised this isn't fake. Could you wait a moment here while I inform my manager?" he asked very politely.

"Sure, I got nowhere to be." I nodded.

"Thank you sir, please feel free to sit in the waiting area and we shall get back to you as soon as possible." at that the teller closed his station and quickly powered walked off.

"Well… he was certainly surprised." Ivar noted as we sat down on a comfortable leather bench off to the side.

"I don't think they get many Witchers redeeming thousands of bizants from the prince of all things, not to mention one that might become a long-term customer. Witchers can live for over a century in good health if we survive after all." I explained.

"I see, how long do you suppose we have to wait?" Ivar questioned, and before I answered I heard heavy foot falls come our way and turned to see our answer.

The dwarf was certainly rich looking, wearing a custom made silk suit studded with golden buttons and the symbol of his family embroidered on it in red twist. His beard stretched down to his belt, and was a black so deep that it was almost blue. His eyes sparkled with intelligence - and more than a little avarice.

"Welcome, welcome Master Witcher! I am, Arabrot Vivaldi, general manager of this branch of my family's bank. I am here to personally streamline the redemption process of your promissory note and even set up a bank account should you be interested. I promise to answer all your questions about our policies and do hope you consider the opportunity to safeguard your wealth under a trusted source. Please, let us adjourn to my office, and of course your companion can join us if you so choose." Arabrot really laid down his sales pitch thick.

Nice to see some things never change across universes, bankers always wanted to hook rich client.

"I'll leave you to it. I need to get a few more funds from the account University gave me for my research. It should be over by the branch of Zammorto Bank not too far away." Ivar stated.

At that I could see Arabrot suddenly take on a very pained looking expression.

"What?" I couldn't help but notice.

"Nothing… that concerns you at least. Good luck scholar, you are gonna need it." Arabot said sincerely as Ivar got up with a look that was equal parts confused and worried.

"Should I be worried?" Ivar wondered.

"Not the way you think… but maybe you should pack a meal and take a long drink beforehand. That branch bank is infamous around here for the nearly impossible to navigate bureaucracy, even more so than usual. I'm certain it's because the youngster in charge doesn't have the head for it despite being a part of the family business." Arabot explained.

Oh dear, I think I remembered something like this from the games. I looked Ivar dead in the eye and held onto his shoulder gently.

"My prayers go out to you, my friend."

I pushed a very worried Ivar away towards what very well drive him into madness.

Better him than me.

---

After I sent Ivar on his way Arabot took me up to the top floor to his office and really started giving me the reasons why I should set up account with his bank.

… For the last thirty minutes.

"... as for our loan policies I promise you that-" Arabot turned the page in the tome long contract thing before I had enough.

"Look, I'm sure all of this is very important and if I was a merchant or noble I would certainly want to know all the details. But I'm just a Witcher, the vast majority of times the work I take on underpays me a great deal since most who need it aren't rich. The only reason I need an account is cause my most recent client was and really wanted his problem solved, and I can't reasonably carry all the coin promised with me all the time nor should I. All I want to know is if you can assure me that wherever my Path takes me on the Continent I can trust I can take my money out of your bank's branches and convert to local currency if needed." I simply stated.

"But of course! Vivaldi and Sons makes use of a number of means to make sure all banks are well informed about our customer list. We use a combination of regular messengers, messenger birds, and even hire many mages to run several telecommunications devices in our banks to make sure we are in constant communication with each other, though obviously other trade secrets as well to making our bank as efficient and reliable as possible. Wherever you go I promise as long as it is at Vivaldi and Sons you will always have access to the coin you entrust to us. As for exchanging local currency that is a natural service we provide, and as the richest realm in the North Kovir and Poviss bizants are worth more than most other currencies, though the florent is catching up." Arabot explained.

"Good enough for me. Who knows, maybe I will need a loan in the future and I can double check rules of that then, right?"

"Certainly, making sure our customers have easy access to bank policies is part of our assurity of quality our bank prides itself on." Arabot says with said pride.

"Then tell me where to sign." I stated.

A quick signing later in the contract, which I checked for fine print of course, and I officially had a bank account. I seem to be going up in the world.

"We look forward to many profitable years with you, Master Witcher." Arabot shook my hand in his strong and meaty grip. Just because he was a banker didn't mean he lacked the natural strength of his species after all.

"So do I… before I head off, you mind if I ask you a question out of curiosity? There a reason why I only see dwarf banks around?" I finally asked.

"Human stupidity, that's why." was Arabot's direct answer.

There was a pause.

"... Care to elaborate on that?" I pushed.

"Gladly. The simple fact is because most human religions, the Church of the Eternal Fire on top of them all, have declared the charging of interest for loans to be a mortal sin. They call it 'usury', and any human banks that charge a single coin for a loan see themselves going out of business faster than you can say 'heresy'. But us dwarves have nothing to do with that nonsense - why shouldn't we charge for our services? It helps that most monarchs and religious leaders have tremendous accounts and loans with us, which leaves us in the interesting position of being able to call them in if they attempt any nonsense. Not that we are immune to pogroms or casual specism - nobody likes the person to whom they owe money to after all." He shrugged his broad shoulders. "But that's why we build our buildings the way we do. Or did you think the guards were just for show?"