Merchant

Early in the morning, an insistent knock at his chamber door rouses Argon from his slumber. His trusted confidant Brolan enters, his words carrying a note of anticipation, "A merchant has arrived, my lord."

Grasping the weight of the news, Argon swiftly dresses and descends from his chambers to the bustling village square. Centred in the square is an unusual spectacle, a large cart laden with an assortment of goods, attracting the curiosity of the villagers.

Closer to the cart, a robust man stands out, his attire rich yet practical, marking him as a merchant. His imposing stature gives an impression of hard-earned strength from many years of life on the road.

Argon noticed a figure standing a little distance away from the main conversation. A young man, no older than his late teens, stood attentively by the merchant's side. The youth's clean-shaven face and well-kept hair were somewhat out of place among the rough and ready villagers, as was his attire – a well-tailored tunic of good-quality cloth.

A short sword hung at his waist. It was clear to Argon that the young man was not just an apprentice or an attendant. He was a protector – a bodyguard, perhaps,

Upon seeing Argon, the merchant extends a warm, business-like smile and introduces himself, "Greetings, I am Yoren."

Standing in the bustling village square, Argon finds himself facing the robust, well-dressed man. The merchant, Yoren, is a picture of seasoned wisdom, hardened by countless journeys and innumerable deals.

"Lord Argon, I presume?" He begins, extending a friendly hand towards Argon, "Melvin invited me here, mentioned you were looking for business opportunities for Blackwood. Your swift rise through the knights and your recent victory against Oakshade have been the talk of many a town."

Argon acknowledges Yoren's words with a nod. "Indeed, that victory has brought me many a spoil. I've got a pile of items to sell you from that very raid. I can offer you a good price, provided you assist me with some matters."

Yoren's brows rise with intrigue, a spark of interest lighting up his eyes. "I see," he replies, his tone carrying a note of eagerness, "What kind of assistance are you in need of, Lord Argon?"

"Let's take this discussion inside," Argon suggests, gesturing towards the manor.

"As you wish, Lord Argon," Yoren acquiesces. Together, they move to the relative comfort of the manor's interior, taking their places at a generously laid-out table.

"As I was saying," Argon begins, his tone serious yet inviting, "I've been facing a problem with the lack of commerce in Blackwood."

"Ah, no doubt that's a result of the peasant revolt," Yoren muses, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Even I used to do business with Stonebridge, but that stopped abruptly due to the revolt. It cost me a lot, given everything was looted."

Argon nods, a sympathetic expression on his face. "That's unfortunate. However, as you can see, Blackwood is now firmly under my control. There are several opportunities here. I'd like for you to establish a permanent presence here. In return, I'll offer you preferential treatment on taxation..."

"However, I understand that the recent turbulence might make you apprehensive," Argon adds, his gaze steady on the merchant. "Allow me to sweeten the deal and give you proof of the potential of Blackwood, and, by extension, my own."

With that, Argon stands, gesturing for Yoren to follow him. Together, they descend to the manor's basements. A slight chill hangs in the air, and the flickering torchlight casts dancing shadows over the stone walls.

All around them, Yoren could see a veritable treasure trove of items, the fruits of Argon's victory over Oakshade. Scattered haphazardly over the stone floor were piles of glittering gemstones, each stone carefully polished to reveal its inner brilliance. Jewellery of all sorts - necklaces, bracelets, rings, and anklets, lay nestled amongst them. There were statues and busts of carved stone, polished until they shone with an inner light.

With a sense of ceremony, Argon leads Yoren to a row of sturdy chests. As he unlatches each one, he reveals a dazzling array of riches. Gold coins shimmer brightly, silver glints softly, while gemstones of various hues sparkle, reflecting the torchlight. Each chest reveals a new assortment of wealth, demonstrating the prosperity and potential of Blackwood under Argon's leadership.

Argon continued, casting a meaningful glance at the open chests. "You're welcome to take inventory of all non-monetary items and provide me with a price. I'm certain you'll turn a considerable profit from selling these goods."

He then shifted his gaze back to Yoren, a firm resolve visible in his eyes. "In return for this, you will establish your business here in Blackwood and act as my exclusive merchant. When the word spreads about the goods we produce here, I'm certain others will follow. As you can see, we're now operating a mine, we have a blacksmith, extensive farmland with flourishing crops, and tailors. The potential for trade is immense, and I offer you first dibs on all of it." The finality in his voice left no room for doubt; this was not a mere proposition but a lucrative opportunity.

"Except for the cores, books, and armour, everything else is up for grabs," Argon declared, spreading his arms wide to encompass the astonishing array of riches before them. His voice was authoritative, leaving no room for negotiation. "I trust you'll offer me a fair price, Yoren."

The merchant merely nodded in response, his gaze fixed on the impressive assortment of items laid out in front of him. He carefully began to inspect each object, mentally calculating its value. Argon watched Yoren's meticulous examination with an air of satisfaction, confident that this partnership would lead to prosperous times for Blackwood.

The conversation with Yoren continued well into the afternoon. Argon, his confident demeanour untouched by the passing hours, patiently answered all of Yoren's questions and haggled over prices. The merchant, for his part, was both astounded and intrigued by the wealth presented before him. The evidence of Blackwood's potential was clear as crystal.

Argon finally broke the silence, his deep voice echoing in the vastness of the room, "So, Yoren, have we come to an agreement?"

Yoren, his attention snapping back to the lord of Blackwood, blinked as he drew himself out of his reverie. He paused, then slowly nodded, "Indeed, Lord Argon. Blackwood certainly has a wealth of potential. I'll set up a trading post here and be your exclusive merchant. In return, I'll take these non-monetary items off your hands and give you a fair price."

The merchant's face shifted into a crafty smile as he made his offer. "I can give you 3000 gold for the lot," Yoren said confidently, "I reckon I can turn it around for about 4000."

Argon was silent for a moment, studying Yoren, before he let out a deep chuckle. "Fine, it's a deal," he said, leaning back in his chair. "I'll have my men load up your cart."

Yoren, however, quickly interjected. "Errr... about that. I didn't bring that much gold with me. You'll have to wait a bit."

Argon's brow furrowed at this revelation.

Argon's eyes narrowed at Yoren's hesitance. "Is that so? I thought I was dealing with a merchant of some substance, not a small fry," he said, his tone cutting. "In light of this unexpected information, my price just rose to 3300 gold."

Yoren's eyes widened slightly, but he quickly composed himself. "Very well, Lord Argon. I accept your terms."

"Good," Argon said, leaning back in his chair, his smile more like a predator's baring of teeth. "We'll loan these items to you then. You can return the gold at your convenience. And don't think of trying anything silly like running away with my goods. If you do, I'll hunt you down and personally ensure you suffer the consequences." His voice was calm, but the threat was clear

Climbing back up the stairs, the merchant beckoned to his apprentice, a gangly youth waiting nervously at the foot of the steps. "Bring the gold, boy!" Yoren barked, the suddenness of his order causing the boy to jump.

Obediently, the apprentice rummaged through the contents of their cart, quickly retrieving a small chest, which he hefted with visible effort. Yoren took the chest from the boy and opened it, revealing the gleaming gold coins inside. "Here's 300 gold," he announced, pushing the chest towards Argon. "I'll have the rest for you within the week."

Argon studied the gold briefly before looking back up at the merchant, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. "Good, good," he said, nodding approvingly. "That's more like it." His fingers closed around the chest handle, the cool weight of the gold providing a satisfying affirmation of the deal.

Argon's voice resonated through manor as he summoned Brolan. Upon hearing his name, Brolan appeared.

"Get some men and help Yoren pack up the stuff," Argon ordered, his tone as cold and unforgiving as a winter's night. "Leave the cores, books, and armour. And obviously the gold."

Brolan, accustomed to Argon's commanding presence, merely nodded. He promptly set about rounding up a group of villagers to assist with the task. In the meantime, Argon departed, leaving the square under the watchful eyes of Brolan. His mind already focused on the next task at hand, he retreated into the privacy of his manor, away from the prying eyes of his subjects.