RP:Reestablishing Commerce

Part of the Rise of Larket Arc

Part of the Rebuilding Frostmaw Arc

Summary Thane Josleen visits the plaza and finds it in a state of total depression. The economy needs stimulation and her new home in Larket needs furnishings. She spends elaborately and makes the acquaintance of Hureig. Hureig recounts his sad lot during the war and Josleen promises to search for what was stolen from him, and if found, return it to him.

Merchant Plaza

Josleen, newly minted Thane of Frostmaw, Larket resident, and homeowner (without spending a copper--one must wonder what sorcery Josleen possesses) does her part in the reconstruction by shopping. It’s not a wholly vain pursuit, for the classically and widely educated bard took just enough economic theory to understand that spending is the best form of stimulus. For this reason she is eager to spend Kelovath’s hard-earned gold. On a personal note, aside from one-woman economic policy, she shops to furnish her new home in Larket with artifacts of the frozen city of which she is so fond. She stands before a partially-collapsed stall that sells real fur rugs.

Hureig was thrilled, beyond thrilled, when there was a person in the market who was not a worker, a scavenger, a poor beggar, or anything of that sort. Even if it was just one person, that was a good sign that the market, still destroyed as it was, would soon rise again! The giant, still bony and thin from his time as a prisoner, was overseeing a pair of giants who had their backs to one of the larger pieces of rubble. They should be pushing, but what they were doing was resting and it seemed no amount of cajoling from the emaciated giant would get the beasts of burden to mush. So he left them in their idleness, his attention and acumen better spent watching a peddler peddle their wares. "Those are some fine rugs you're looking at, Thane Josleen. Fine rugs indeed. You have an eye." Hureig announced his arrival in a friendly manner; best not to sneak up on a war survivor and all.

It’s hard for a giant, emaciated or not, to sneak up on anything. Still, Josleen appreciates his manner. Being addressed as ‘thane’ takes her by surprise. She hasn’t yet grown accustomed to it, but it isn’t unwelcome. Thane Josleen. She likes it. Why not. She appraises him with a smile. He wears the malnutrition of war, the starving of both body and spirit. She knows how that feels. Since the coronation she’s been on a mission to meet her months-long caloric debt. If it’s edible, it goes down her gullet. “Are they? I need a very large one for a sitting room. About as large as, oh,” she glances around and points to a pile of fresh timber, “from here to there,” then points at a hatchet-split barrel, “and to there.” It’s a huge room indeed. “I like this,” she fingers a white bearskin. “Is that horrible cliché of me? Perhaps a mammoth for some presence? With or without tusks?” She smooths a hand over a frostmare’s hide.

Hureig had his eye and ear to the prices more than he did the quality and measure, though he did get the general sense of what she needed when she motioned from here to there. "This is for a home, yes? Your home?" He brought his thin arms to cross over a chest that promised strength and vitality...after a few more bowls of stew, perhaps. "If this is for your home, I would say it is not cliche at all. It is for your pleasure, after all. But if it is for a friend..." He shook his shaggy head, but that didn't break the friendly smile he wore. "Mammoths are always fashionable. If you lay a couple side by side, you can call it your very own herd." He laughed loud and long, but that was broken when the peddler spoke the prices for the rugs. Anger billowed from his prickly presence as his eyes narrowed on the seller. "Perhaps another stall, Thane Josleen."

A sweet warmth blooms in her heart when she replies, “Yes, my home.” This is what peacetime, new love, normalcy feels like. It’s nice. If she never sees another war it would be too soon (and in Hollow, a sign that she died and went to heaven for the living can be sure of death, taxes, and war). She laughs at his herd-joke. His anger is noted with some suspicion and concern. What was that about? Peddlers gonna peddle. “Sure.” As the merchant escorts her to a new stall she asks, “Where were you during the war? What side of the wall?”

There weren't very many stalls that were able to be manned, and the merchant at the previous stall was sputtering and sputtering and calling for the Thane to return. But there was one, its only product a single, unfurled mammoth pelt. "I was in a cage during the war. Balgruuf wanted my goods and my gold. I would not give them willingly, so he took them and threw me in a cell for the duration." A dark story for a dark time. All still bore open wounds from the war. "I pulled you away from that peddler for a reason, Thane Josleen. There is an honor in selling something fairly. A righteous, really. Commerce can survive only if the merchant and his clients are treated fairly...otherwise, both will suffer." He shook his head, but it would take a spit to dislodge the bad taste from his mouth. "Raising prices that high in a war torn city is barbaric."

Josleen nods sympathetically. “I too spent some time in Balgruuf’s cells.” Hureig may have heard. The story isn’t exactly a secret by now. “I understand. The Queen appreciates your resistance, I’m sure, as do I.” She doesn’t press the dark story for any more juice. Part of reconstruction is breaking free of its stranglehold on our collective attention. She grins at his explanation and merchant philosophy. Surely there’s some truth to his words, but a merchant is a merchant, not a saint. She’s no fool. He’s poaching his competition, and she is fine with it because he is charismatic “Then I am lucky you intervened. And this?” She runs her fingers through the wiry mammoth pelt. “Yours to sell? At what price?”

Hureig did not pry into people's past, not when they could and would decide how much of their story they wished the recovering Giant to know. There were many enemies during Reconstruction---Hureig seems to have made one already, if the stank eye from the other merchant was any indication. There was no need to make more by pushing for information. There was also decorum and propriety to keep: she was a Thane, he was a merchant without goods to sell in furs that were years away from being in their prime. "Unfortunately, Thane Josleen, I have no goods or wares to sell. Once they were confiscated....well, they could be spoils of war for some worthy warrior for all I know. But, I watched Old Mother here give three furs to survivors for only a few coppers." That act caused a swelling of pride to puff up his chest, and dare say I a tear froze at the corner of his eye? "I am sure whatever price she asks is well below what it is worth. Fairness to the merchant is as important as fairness in the deal. So please, pay her what you think is fair."

Josleen frowns when she realizes Hureig has recovered absolutely nothing. Surely Balgruff didn’t squander all of this merchant’s wares? She smiles at Old Mother and thanks her for her generosity. In truth, this pelt is of a lesser quality than the other peddler’s pelts. It’s more soiled, and thins in places suggesting it was an old mammoth when slain, or found. Still, Josleen feels pressured to buy this one after two sob stories in a row, Hureig’s and Old Mother’s. Dammit. Maybe she can hide that bald spot with a coffee table? Josleen offers 400 gold and arranges for a pick-up and delivery to Larket later. She says goodbye to Old Mother and as she and Hureig walk away she says, “I’ll see if any of what was stolen from you remains somewhere in the fort. If I find any, it will be returned to you. I beg your pardon, your name?”

Hureig hid his shock well when Josleen passed along a veritable fortune in post-war Frostmaw to the old giantess, but he regained his composure quickly. Whatever gold was put into the giantess' hand would be given to another for food, fuel, or perhaps better lodgings. She did not just give a pile of gold to one citizen. Josleen injected much needed gold blood into Frostmaw itself. "That is very kind of you, Thane Josleen. I will see to the delivery of the rug to Larket personally. You will find it at your home by the morning." A fist to his chest. A bow of his head. A long, long journey with a mammoth rug thrown across his shoulders. "My name is Hureig, and I am a loyal servant, Thane Josleen."

“With such a reliable delivery service, then I should make the best use of it.” She smiles sweetly, nods at his name. “I was hoping to buy a few more things for the house. It’s quite empty and I’d love to fill it with memories of Frostmaw, though I imagine I will be commuting between the two great cities often. I would pay you for the safe delivery as well, of course.” She glances around the plaza. “I’m trying to find a carpenter. I’d like to have a door made, with carvings fit for a jarl’s castle, but in miniature for a garden door at human-scale. If you could help me procure that I would be much obliged. And some hand woven mantles for tables. I don’t see the weavers here.” She frowns again. The state of disrepair is worrying. She is inspired to buy even more. “And a bookshelf, I suppose, and perhaps a dining set.” Poor Kelovath is being fleeced by his own woman and doesn’t know it.

Hureig had a mind like a steel trap; he cut her entire order into his memory like a scribe into a stone tablet. His player, on the other hand, has already forgotten everything that Josleen ordered, so we're just going to roll with it. "I am afraid the only luxuries you can buy in this marketplace are things needed for day to day living. I will do my best to find what you want, but it make take some days."

Josleen nods her head curtly as if to say ‘we have a deal’. “Luxury are peacetime items, and are we not in peacetime now?” She specifies a few details for each item in the order, gives him a generous budget, and instructions for how to send the bill for payment from the Larketian Bank. Charge Kelovath Khamsin! “It was a pleasure meeting you, Hureig. Until we meet again.” She bows to depart, then adds, “Oh, and I won’t forget about looking for your wares in the fort. I’ll send word if I find anything. Take care.”