“But why in the world would the rchant’s guild want to et ?!” Balthazar asked, skittering alongside Mayor Bergen as the two of them walked under a roofed area outside the town hall, heading toward the western side of the building.
The cobblestone walkway glimred in the warm light from a line of braziers set at regular intervals, their flas licking up against the cold and casting long, wobbly shadows across bundles of drying herbs and strips of cured at hanging overhead. Snowflakes drifted in from the open sides, lting instantly as they t the heat, creating a faint white mist in the air.
Bergen seed perfectly at ho in the glow, his beard catching the firelight while he shot Balthazar a half knowing, half self-satisfied smirk, as though the entire arrangent was his personal triumph.
“Are you surprised?” he said. “You are the famous rchant crab, naturally they are interested in knowing you. I would expect you to be pleased by this business opportunity!”
The crustacean groaned.
“I’ve t the guildmaster those guys chose last ti,” he said. “Doesn’t really give the best impression about their judgnt.”
It was Bergen’s ti to let out a quiet groan.
As the man and crab turned right and walked under a snow-covered arch made of shrubbery, the mayor spoke again.
“A good jab, crab. Your arms may be scrawny, but your tongue more than makes up for it!”
Balthazar’s eyestalks frowned as he muttered under his breath. “My arms are perfectly proportional!”
“But I must remind you,” the hefty mayor continued, “back then we were all swindled by Antoine’s trickery. At the ti, we were still far from learning just how low his villainy went.”
Bergen stopped close to the center of a circular clearing surrounded by lots of green vegetation covered in white snow.
Balthazar looked around, taking in the quiet winter garden, its curved beds and narrow footpaths traced in soft white, while snow-capped shrubs and low hedges ford gentle mounds along the edges, their leaves only faintly visible beneath the powder.
Through the cold air, the place held a surprising stillness, sheltered from the bustle of Ardville proper.
Frost-touched vines clung to trellises in shimring patterns, and clusters of hardy winter flowers peeked from beneath thin veils of snow like stubborn sparks of color. Balthazar’s eyestalks swiveled slowly as he took it all in—the hush, the crunch of snow beneath their steps, and the faint, almost reverent calm that hung over the garden as more tiny specks of snow lazily floated down.
“This is my refuge,” Mayor Bergen said in a hushed voice that carried a rare tenderness, as if he feared disturbing the peace of the place. “One of the first things I ever ordered to be built after becoming mayor. Everyone always rembers for my thirst for battle, my fighting prowess, but after all the warring was done and I sat on that chair you saw inside… I needed sothing to quiet my fla. Octavia was that for once, back in the day. I planted many of the plants and flowers you see around us with the intention of showing this place to her eventually. My little corner of the world where I’d co to clear my thoughts, and maybe one day share them with her.”
Balthazar watched the man’s fond expression as his small eyes idly scanned the garden from behind his dense mane of hair, and the crab felt a sense of empathy for him.
That place was to the warrior a lot like the pond was to the crustacean.
“But!” Bergen bood, suddenly returning to his usual deanor. “That was a long ti ago, when I was younger and still foolish! Do you know what else happened a long ti ago?”
The man walked a few steps closer to the center of the circular walkway and stood next to an empty patch of dirt in between the stone paths.
“Do you see this place?” he asked, placing both of his aty fists against his waist, elbows throwing the thick fur mantle back as he did. “This is where my Callia used to stand!”
“Who?” the crab asked, confused.
“My glamorous, prize-winning shrub!” exclaid the mayor, throwing his arms out.
“Oh…” Balthazar said, trying to fight the urge to hit the front of his face with his pincer.
“Her pink flowers were the most beautiful thing you could imagine!” Bergen continued. “At least until your business partner, Tristan, got into his cups and decided to ‘water’ them himself! They wilted and died! Unrecoverable loss! I still mourn them all these years later!”
The eight-legged rchant tried his best to suppress a sigh and keep his eyes from rolling.
“But we all know now that was Antoine’s sche to screw Tristan over,” he argued back.
“Oh, I know that, crab!” the burly human said, wagging a finger. “But it was still his tinkle to deliver the deadly blow! A man can’t just forget that!”
This ti, Balthazar couldn’t help it, and his eyestalks rolled.
“But worry not,” Bergen added. “I will not penalize or try to influence the guild’s decision negatively against your partner. I may be a stern man, but I am also fair!”
He paused and inflated his chest before adding in a quieter voice, “Just let him know that he’s still forbidden from entering these grounds until I say otherwise.”
“Great, I’ll let him know,” the crab said, eager to just move on from the shrubbery subject. “But back to more important matters—naly, . I’m an independent rchant from outside town, why would Ardville’s guild want present during their eting to choose a new guildmaster? I’m not too keen on being set up for so kind of revenge by the old one’s cronies.”
“Again, worry not,” the mayor said, raising a halting hand. “In the months that followed Antoine’s fall, we spent a lot of ti rooting out the tendrils of his influence. Unsurprisingly, a man like him did not have many actual friends or allies, just arrangents of convenience, and once the card at the top fell, the entire castle of cards toppled. They all were quite eager to tell on each other and cooperate, once Antoine’s money and power were gone and his position was up for grabs. Abernathy and the other honest rchants used this to purge all the scum from our ranks. Our guild of rchants today is in no way the sa as it was, which is why it’s taken so long to get to this new guildmaster choice part.”
Balthazar crossed his arms. “That’s great and all, but still… What do I have to do with all that?”
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“Influence, crab!” Bergen bood. “Do you not get it? The guild wants to build upon a solid foundation with the increasingly famous rchant crab, and who better to lead them than an Ardville-born guildmaster who happens to also be said crab’s business partner?!”
“Oh,” the crab said, uncrossing his arms.
“I will never admit to this outside this private conversation, friend,” the mayor said, bringing his voice down as close to a whisper as he could—which was about the normal conversation volu for most other people. “Ardville isn’t exactly a bustling tropolis. We are a small town, all things considered. Proud, beautiful, and growing, but not on the sa level as the capital, or even…” He let out a quiet groan. “Marquessa. So, having a celebrity like the rchant crab right outside our door puts us on the map of comrce! The guild wants to take advantage of that. No offense ant, of course!”
Balthazar rubbed his chin with the back of his pincer, thinking.
“None taken,” he said idly. “I will use them right back.”
“Ah! There they are!” Bergen bood, spreading his arms open.
Abernathy and Madeleine appeared from the opposite end of the garden, the mayor’s official walking alongside the baker with hands behind his back and a less stern expression than usual on his face—there was even a discreet smile under his long, lean nose.
“I will et you by the town gate tomorrow morning before heading to work then, Ms. Madeleine,” he said to the girl, with a gentle nod of his head.
“Sure thing, Mr. Abernathy!” she replied with a smile. “It’s a big batch, but I assure you I will have the biscuits ready a couple of days before Festus!”
“The hell is Festus?” muttered the crab.
No one seed to hear or pay any mind to the crustacean’s puzzlent as the town official continued.
“Excellent. I know it’s a lot of work, but I want to give our staff and the guards a sweet surprise this year. I will have your paynt for your work ready in the morning.”
Balthazar cocked an eyestalk at his friend. “Doing so business of your own too, eh? Do you need to haggle the price with him for you? I’ve already beaten Mr. Abernathy once, I’m sure I can squeeze so extra coins from him!”
The young woman and the older man both chuckled.
“No need, Balthazar,” Madeleine said, smiling. “We already closed the deal. But I’ll try to rember that for next ti.”
“Abe!” Bergen exclaid thunderously, startling the tax inspector in a way that left Balthazar fairly sure that he was sowhat used to the scares, even if never fully prepared for them.
“Yes, sir?” Abernathy responded, closing his eyes for a mont and letting out a quiet sigh.
“Make sure you arrange for an invitation to the guild eting to be delivered to our crab friend over here,” the mayor said. “Along with that list we’ve discussed, the Marquessa one.”
“Ah, very well, sir,” said the right-hand man, pulling a pocket watch from his robe and glancing at it. “I believe it’s almost ti for your next appointnt.” Seeing the warrior’s puzzled frown, Abernathy elaborated. “The one with the local ornithologist, about that strange ongoing issue of the sudden disappearance of birds in the areas around Ardville.”
“Bah! That nonsense,” Bergen exclaid with disdain.
“No birds around sounds like the opposite of an issue to ,” Balthazar muttered under his breath.
“But fine, let’s humor the fool so he stops pestering us!” the mayor declared. “I’m done here anyway.”
Abernathy nodded once. “Very well. So I take it that… negotiations went well?”
Bergen let out one of his characteristic booming laughs, placing both hands over his pronounced gut as his entire torso bounced up and down.
“Hahaha! Of course! You know how persuasive my axe and I can be!”
The three humans chuckled at the mayor’s remark, while the crab scowled at him.
***
With the sun already descending and night soon to co, the crab and the baker made their way out of Ardville’s gates and toward Boulder’s Point. The day had been pleasant, spent skittering around town as the girl showed her favorite places to the crabby visitor in between her purchases of baking ingredients.
“So, are you going to finally tell what you and the mayor talked about?” Madeleine asked, rolling her shoulders to relieve the tension from all the bags of baking supplies she was carrying.
“Mostly it was n talk,” Balthazar responded, huffing and puffing as he struggled to keep the crate of milk bottles he was carrying over his shell balanced.
Seeing the glare the girl was throwing at him, the rchant rolled his eyes and chuckled.
“I’m joking, I’m joking,” he said. “Well, mostly joking. But the important parts were that he wanted to strike a deal for to act as the middlecrab through which Ardville can get their hands on so sweet mangoes… and other stuff from Marquessa.”
“Oh, neat!” Madeleine said. “More business for you is always nice!”
“And,” Balthazar continued, “he also let know that their guild of rchants is interested in eting during their gathering to pick the new guildmaster.”
“Oh,” said the girl, looking pensive. “You don’t think they’re considering…”
“No, don’t be silly,” the crab responded, shaking his shell and nearly spilling the milk. “They may be interested in making deals with , but certainly not have a crab as their guildmaster. Not to ntion, I’m not actually from or in Ardville, so it wouldn’t make the smallest of senses to even consider . Besides, above all that, I would have no interest whatsoever in that position. Yuck! No way. I’m glad to let Tristan have it instead.”
Madeleine responded with a shrug of her left shoulder, and the pair continued their walk back ho in silence.
Taking the quiet opportunity, the crab decided to bring up his system and check out the level up screen.
[You have reached level 34]
[Choose a base stat to increase by 10]
[Health: 320/320]
[Stamina: 30/30]
[Mana: 50/50]
Without so much as a hesitant thought, Balthazar reinforced his healthy pool of… health with 10 more points.
[Health: 330/330]
As he moved on to the attributes screen, the rchant realized sothing he had almost forgotten about.
[You have 3 unspent attribute points]
[Attributes]
[Strength: 5]
[Endurance: 5]
[Agility: 5]
[Perception: 5]
[Intellect: 20]
[Charisma: 96]
Hmm, I was already going to put all three points into it as usual, but now I’m getting really curious about what will happen once my Charisma reaches—
The crab’s thoughts were cut short as a new notification appeared in front of his eyes after investing all three of the available points into his Charisma attribute.
[Charisma: 99]
[You have reached maximum Charisma. A special trait has been unlocked!]
The hell?! Balthazar thought as he continued idly walking down the cobblestone road alongside Madeleine. The maximum is 99? Why not 100?! What kind of psycho would cap it one digit away from a nice round number?! He rolled his eyestalks and groaned quietly. Birds, probably.
Curious about what special trait he had gained for reaching such high Charisma, the crab scrolled down to read the next box of text.
[Motivational Crab]
[Trait]
[Your words are so persuasive they can influence others into believing they’re capable of things they usually aren’t. Even if it’s complete crap. Especially if it’s complete crap.]
Balthazar frowned and then scoffed internally.
Pff, as if I wasn’t already plenty persuasive.
Disregarding the new trait as a novel trick he would have no need for, the crab dismissed all system prompts and focused back on the path ahead, his bazaar already in sight.
He had better, far more important things to focus on.
Things like sitting down with Tristan and discussing their plans for the guild eting.
Or figuring out how to best take advantage of his new link between Ardville and Marquessa.
Or how he would find so adventurers fit to explore the dungeon mines with him.
Or, even more importantly, what flavor of pie he would be eating for supper tonight.
Reviews
All reviews (0)