Born a Monster

Chapter 89

Chapter 89: Born A Monster, Chapter 89 – Industry

Born A Monster

Chapter 89

Industry

“I’m sorry, little one. Guilded workmen are the only ones authorized to do carpentry in the city.”

“How do I apply at the guild?” I asked.

“Well, you are born and raised the child of an active member of that guild.”

I blinked. “So how does one change one’s birth profession?”

.....

“What? Why to do that would be to defy Loki, the god of the forge. Why would you be born to a carpenter, except to continue the noble craft of carpentry?”

I was pretty sure by now that Loki was the god of Dumb Decisions and Stupid Rules.

“So what happens when there is more work than there are carpenters to perform that work?”

“Why, we have the situation we currently have, where there is a backlog of work.” He drew himself to his full height. “My generation has that backlog down to a mere two months and a week.”

“Wait, so if my roof springs a leak, I’d need to wait for nine weeks after I reported it to the guild before it gets fixed?”

“Yup, not the four months when I started working here, much shorter wait time.”

“And if I fix it myself, or hire someone outside the guild to fix it, that’s heresy?”

“Punished by death. Only the best woodworkers get to work on wood, only the best stonemasons on stone, and so forth. Only the best for the followers of Loki. Isn’t Loki just great?”

“Blessed be the name of Loki.” I replied.

Because to know the proper response and not give it was – you guessed it, heresy.

“But surely, if a member of the synod gets a leaky roof?”

“Oh, that’s not an issue, they can usually pay for immediate service.”

“How much does that cost them?”

“Oh, double the normal rate. Including hazard fees if the work is done above the second story.”

“Loki be praised, that he built in such a mechanism.”

“Indeed, blessed be his name.”

“And all professions are guilded?”

“By the commandment of Loki, may he rule in Asgard forever.”

“Praised be the name of Loki. So there is no work forbidden?”

“Such as?”

I named a few professions.

“Oh yes, Beggars, Prostitutes, and Assassins all have their own guilds, by the command of Loki.”

I blinked. “Praised be the name of Loki, that is much more tolerant and equal than those professions are treated west of the mountains.”

And it went on, all glory be to Loki, who obviously needs a swift kick directly to the balls.

Remembering something told to me by Sholwyr, I decided to check in at the Guild of Woodcrafts myself. I got the directions from someone other than the sawmill foreman.

“Well, of course we can hire new craftsmen, if you can pass the exam. There’s a backlog of nine weeks worth of work.”

“How does one sign up for the exam?”

“It’s one golden rom every time you take it. There’s a lecture part, where you describe to a panel of our recruits the nature of part of the work. And then there’s a practical exam, where you fill an order to client specifications.”

“Of course, there is.”

#

And so, eventually, I checked with the guards.

“No, that’s a lie. Just pay your forty percent taxes to your local guardsman and there’ll be no such problems.”

So I visited the town courthouse, where I learned the tax rate was only twenty percent on industries, all praise the name of Loki.

And, while wandering around looking for food, I’d seen people throw away the darnedest things. Including, at guilded carpentry sites, waste wood.

Shameful, simply shameful. I even asked if it was waste wood before hauling it off.

Now, oak and cedar aren’t the easiest of woods to work with, but if you’ve got time, you can cut the boards down to link with each other, and sell those interlinked boards to a shield-smith.

I’m told that if you’re a better negotiator than I was, you can even wrangle a free shield from the deal.

I also learned that the dollor also came in quarter currency, or quarters. These were cast at the temple mint; it was not legal to cut a dollor into four quarters. Naturally, the temple would convert coinage at the low cost of one quarter per dollor so exchanged.

All praise to the name of Loki, for the generosity of his priests.

I’m sure it wasn’t a living fit for those who paid room and board. Me? I saved my quarters, and let the day of three Might come. You’d be amazed what people would pay a quarter to have hauled from their premises and never question where it was going to end up.

The town did have guilded garbage collectors, though, who were extremely territorial. Praise the name of Loki, that they gave fair warning instead of a drubbing.

In every town worthy of the name, there is at least one area where stalls or carts gather, and all manner of trash is hawked as though it were the rarest of antiques. Or sometimes, even just as slightly more valuable trash.

Although some things just needed cleaned or painted, some needed more detailed work. I could do the carpentry myself, and found all manner of tinkers, smiths, an engineer to fix a music box...

Thank you, whomever taught me math and basic accounting. It got me a lesson from the town’s holy department of treasury on the glory of double book accounting processes. Five gold for the week, lowered to four because I offered them my barbarian armor. They even, praise the name of Loki, permitted me to audit books of other people, work normally reserved for city clerks, to help me sharpen my skills.

Now THAT was a pain in the lower backside, I assure you. But by keeping diligent records of how much I was making, how much I was paying in taxes, and when, and to whom... It saved even more pain.

#

On the topic of pain, when someone is executed for heresy, all praise the name of Loki, for WE were not heretical, their goods and possessions and sometimes their relatives were auctioned off. And sometimes, when some fool had extended them a business loan to make it through the Festival of Snows, that fool is compensated by part of the heretic’s belongings.

Or possessions.

Or family members.

All praise to wise Loki, that there are laws to keep such slaves from abuse and mistreatment.

“Give me a reason not to name you a pearl diver and take you to the river.” I said.

“Please!” Mervpin (no, really, that name was picked by his parents, to honor an uncle) said. “My sister. You can save my sister and my mother.”

“Come with me, and see how little that is a thing.”

And to the magistrate. “Great and fair Garguliik,” (I swear, I’m not making these names up, nor would Truthspeaker let me), “should the state be unable to pay for the care of Burazish and Yinkada, I am willing to compensate fairly for them.”

“Compensate at auction, heathen. Be happy with the slave the state grants you. By the grace of Loki.”

“Praise be his name, and thank you, magistrate.”

I waited until we were out of earshot of his great and fair magistrate, who once had a man castrated for talking improperly about his wife.

Mervpin beat me to the words. “Give me the word, I can find out when the next slave auction is!”

“Meet me at the front of the courthouse when you learn this. Don’t make me report you as a runaway.”

“Thank Loki!” he said.

“Praise be his name.” I said.

So, the little twerp was already trying to get me killed. Good for him.

It took him two cuffs, a get lost, and a number of praising names before he came back. “It’ll be on the docks, Greed-day morning. We must ransom them both, or they’ll be sold out of the city, I know it.”

“We have not many days to raise those funds, then.”

In fact we had two days, and finding an orphanage for him to live in was a pain both in terms of time and of much needed coinage for the auction.

Anyone who has run a business can tell you how difficult it is to find hard coin on short notice.

We didn’t have enough time, or my business was too small, or I was just a poor businessman. However you choose to look at it.

“You may need to choose between your mother and your sister.” I told Mervpin.

“No, I’m sure Loki will provide.”

“Praise his name, I’m not certain Loki cares.”

“Of course, he cares, is he not Loki?”

“Mervpin.”

.....

“Yes? Aren’t you going to praise Loki’s name?”

“Mervpin, if you get me hauled off to be burned in public, I’m not going to be able to buy either of them. Praise the name of Loki.”

#

I let Mervpin hold the coins, and cast the bids. Oh gods, I let a child do this.

He bid three quarters of our coinage for Yinkada.

We had lost his mother. I sent him to collect his sister.

And then, praise his name, Loki allowed something to happen. At the back of the crowd at first, and then moving forward, there were cries of “Attack!” and “Makura!” and “Save me!”

They went after the brightly colored and gaudily bejeweled first.

I noted with pride the not-so-thin merchant who had cast bids against Mervpin was among those the Makura had chosen.

[You have earned one point of Wrath. After sin armor, no points have been assigned.]

I could still enjoy the wailing of his screams.

I could enjoy watching the guards bashing weapons against the Makura get taken beneath the waves.

All the while, people fled from the river, from the auction site.

And then one of the fat ones got picked.

Even as his guards swarmed around, trying to save him, I took my shot.

“Anything!” he screamed.

I sent her the System tags for my Truthspeaker class.

With speed that only comes from practice, she released the merchant and snapped up his guard.

He fell to his knees. “Tell me what I must do, great Loki! I’ll forsake my mistress and return to my wife! I will support the families of my fallen guards as though they were my own. Name my penance, great Loki, to whom I owe my life!”

You know what? I know wherever you are, Loki, that you’re just laughing so hard that you need to change your pants.

“I go now, great angel of Loki, eternal praise to his name!”

Well, at least it was one less competing for slaves. Now if only there were some way to...

“Restart the auction!” called a bronze-skinned woman.

The auctioneer hadn’t moved since the attack started. “Ma’am, surely you can’t mean to disrespect the dead by...”

“Restart the auction!” a red man called.

“Auction! Auction!” resounded the cries.

And we almost won his mother, who instead went to the woman who first called for the auction to restart.

I approached her. “That is the only other slave I want today.”

“I know. I watch, I listen. I see and hear things. Go, take her. How would I deny an angel of Loki?”

“Praise his name.”

#