"This is our plan," Jamie declared, his voice steady and resolute.
Thomas and Elize leaned in, their eyes scanning the scattered parchments and worn maps spread before them.
"The most important and fundamental step," Jamie continued, "is that we secure control over our territory." He pointed to a recently acquired weathered map from the Cutpurses, tracing a path with his finger. "This area here, between the avenue to the Noble Quarter all the way to the end of the Lower Quarter, reaching the market near the Arcane Tower."
He tapped the map thoughtfully. "In total, it's five city blocks under our claim. They're bustling with activity and serve as vital links connecting us to every other part of the city."
"We're based here in this first block? Near the border of the Commercial Quarter?" Elize asked, her finger hovering over the lower section of their marked territory.
"Exactly," Jamie affirmed.
Thomas and Elize exchanged glances, nodding as understanding began to dawn.
"To ensure we maintain control over this area," Jamie said, raising three fingers for emphasis, "we need three things: people, money, and knowledge."
He paused, allowing his words to settle. The crackling of the hearth filled the brief silence, the scent of burning wood mingling with the faint aroma of aged parchment.
"I hope you've planned more than just those points?" Thomas interjected, a hint of concern edging into his voice.
Jamie offered a reassuring smile, noticing their worried expressions. "Of course I have."
He straightened, his eyes reflecting the flicker of the flames. "First, we need people—but not just any people. We require individuals trained in combat, capable of maintaining order within our territory. They must be able to prevent incursions, whether from rival gangs or even monsters. I don't want the inhabitants of our quarter to fear for their safety during a Monster Rush."
Thomas nodded solemnly. This was part of Jamie's promise—to change the city and protect its people.
"But where will we find these people, and what will we say they do?" Elize questioned, her brow furrowed in thought. "If we suddenly start increasing security around the tavern, people will start asking questions sooner or later."
"That's precisely why these individuals won't be connected to the tavern," Jamie explained, his fingers drumming thoughtfully on the table. "They'll have objectives entirely separate from the tavern."
Thomas and Elize sat across from Jamie, their expressions a mix of curiosity and contemplation. Elize's auburn hair shimmered softly, her eyes fixed intently on Jamie. Thomas leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, a thoughtful furrow creasing his brow.
"Perhaps you're already aware, Thomas," Jamie continued, "but anyone can found a mercenary group, provided that their team conducts at least one expedition a month to reduce the number of monsters around the city."
Thomas nodded. "Yes, and the city pays bounties based on the number of monsters killed. But it's not much money. Most groups end up becoming adventuring parties, delving into dungeons for greater rewards."
"Exactly," Jamie agreed. "But in our case, we're not concerned about the money right now. We aim to assemble a group dedicated to territorial defense and specific missions. We can establish our own mercenary organization—the Golden Fiddle Company."
Elize raised an eyebrow skeptically. "But would any experienced mercenary want to join a company focused solely on defense? It doesn't sound particularly appealing."
"Good point," Jamie conceded, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "But we don't want experienced mercenaries or big names."
Her confusion deepened. "What do you mean? How are we going to use them if they're inexperienced?"
"We'll train them ourselves," Jamie replied confidently, glancing at Thomas. "Both of us."
Elize looked between them, incredulous. "But won't it take a long time for them to be ready? Thomas, didn't you attend military school? That was, what, three years of training?"
Thomas nodded slowly. "She's right. Proper training isn't something that happens overnight."
Jamie leaned forward, his eyes alight with determination. "They won't have three years—we'll give them three months. But even before that, they'll be ready to start undertaking tasks."
This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Thomas's interest was clearly piqued. "And how do you propose we make that happen?"
"I will help with the training, but more importantly, Elize probably doesn't know yet. The people who go on missions with me receive a special effect from my Blessings, which makes them gain more experience," Jamie explained.
Elize's eyes widened in surprise. "Really? How much more?"
"A huge amount," Thomas interjected, his tone serious. "I can't say exactly how much, but it's quite impactful."
She leaned back, processing this revelation. "If that's the case, wouldn't that attract experienced mercenaries? We could focus on offering them this blessing to level up faster." Her eyes gleamed with newfound excitement at the prospect.
Jamie shook his head firmly. "Right now, it would be too risky; we're too weak. If word gets out, we'll become targets—not just for gangs, but mercenaries, adventurers, and who knows what else."
Elize's enthusiasm dimmed, and she frowned thoughtfully. "I suppose that makes sense."
"So how are we going to recruit them?" Thomas asked, his gaze steady upon Jamie.
"Quite simple, really—flyers," Jamie replied, a confident glint in his eye. He reached across the cluttered table and gathered a stack of papers. There were at least two dozen, each meticulously handwritten.
Thomas raised an eyebrow skeptically. "But a good portion of Hafenstadt's population can't read," he pointed out.
Jamie nodded thoughtfully. "True enough. But we can also spread the word during my evening performances. For now, these flyers will serve as a visual cue on the streets that we're seeking mercenaries."
Thomas considered this and then nodded in agreement.
"Now, the second step is funding," Jamie continued. "We'll need about ten mercenaries—two for each block of our territory. We'll pay them a wage higher than what the army offers."
"Higher?" Thomas exclaimed, surprise evident on his face. "The army pays fifty silver coins per month per soldier. That's five gold coins for ten men."
"Correct," Jamie affirmed. "In our case, we'll pay eighty silver coins each. That means we'll need to yield more than eight gold coins in revenue every month." He paused before adding, "Currently, the Golden Fiddle brings in about two and a half gold coins per month."
"Wait, are you saying we'd need to increase our earnings by more than three times?" Elize interjected, uncertainty lacing her tone. Her eyes searched Jamie's face, clearly questioning the feasibility of his plan.
"Yes," Jamie admitted, meeting her gaze steadily. "This is the hardest part; it will make or break us."
Thomas leaned back in his chair, thoughtfully stroking his chin. "Is there anything from the Cutpurses we can leverage?" he asked.
Jamie shook his head slowly. "We don't know yet," he replied. "I refuse to continue their thieving operations. I've released the children they exploited. Many of them may continue on their own, but at least it won't be within our territory." He tapped his fingers lightly on the table. "They must have had other ventures—perhaps ones that caught Maria von Hafenstadt's attention—but for now, I'm unaware of them."
"So what can we do?" Thomas pressed.
Jamie smiled faintly. "We need to start selling beer," he declared.
"Are you sure that's enough?" Elize asked skeptically, tilting her head. "Expanding our patrons is one thing, but increasing revenue by that much solely through beer sales seems… ambitious."
"Yes, I believe so," Jamie affirmed, his eyes gleaming with determination. "Based on what Thomas has reported from Knall's experiments, brewing our beer costs us, per barrel, a mere third of what wine or mead is currently costing us."
He leaned over the cluttered table, strewn with papers and maps, tapping emphatically on a set of hastily scribbled notes.
"Therefore," he continued, "we can afford to reduce the price—let's say by half. Moreover, beer has about one-third the alcohol content of wine. This means patrons can enjoy more of it in larger quantities, which should boost our sales as well."
Elize sat across from him, her arms folded, brow furrowed in skepticism. The flickering light caught the hints of doubt in her eyes.
"But," Jamie added, sensing her hesitation, "the most important aspect is our relationship with the other taverns." He glanced between his companions, ensuring he had their attention. "Once the patrons develop a taste for our beer, they'll want to order it at other establishments. But only we know how to produce it."
"This could make us overrun with customers," Elize pointed out, concern tinging her voice.
"Precisely," Jamie agreed, a slight smile turning up the corners of his mouth. "But there's a limit to how many people we can serve here each day. That's why we'll start selling barrels to other taverns."
He leaned back, crossing his arms, his gaze steady and confident. Thomas watched Elize expectantly; his eyes seemed to search her face for signs of approval. After a moment's contemplation, she gave a reluctant nod. Though traces of apprehension lingered, a spark of belief began to kindle within her.
"Lastly, we need knowledge," Jamie declared, his tone shifting to solemn seriousness. He reached beneath the table and unrolled a large parchment, spreading it before them. It was a detailed map of Hafenstadt's vast sewer system, the intricate network of tunnels and passages rendered meticulously.
"We know very little about our enemies," he continued, his finger tracing along the maze of lines. "Even those we've already defeated."
Thomas and Elize leaned in, their earlier doubts giving way to intrigue. The labyrinth beneath the city was a world unto itself, rife with secrets and hidden dangers. Even Jay, who had been lounging indifferently nearby, padded over to peer at the map, his emerald eyes reflecting the dim light.
"This was among the items we recovered from the Cutpurses' hideout," Jamie explained. "I doubt it's merely a common map. I suspect it's connected to their operations within the sewers. This means their activities likely intersected with our territory, and we need to discover exactly what they were up to."
He straightened, meeting each of their gazes in turn. "This," he announced decisively, "will be the first mission of the Golden Fiddle Company."
[author]
Thank you so much for reading!
If you liked this story so far and have a moment, I'd really appreciate it if you could comment, leave a follow, or even tell a friend about it.
If you are up to chat and discuss the chapters, there's a Discord for that. Click here to join
[/author]