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The Human From a Dungeon 103
🕑 Added 2025-05-12 12:22:34 +0000 UTCChapter 103
Jamuk Morathi
Adventurer Level: N/A
Dwarf - Calkutin
"Cinti, where are the quarry quotes?" I asked my assistant.
My elf assistant's long, blonde hair fluttered as she turned. Many a visitor had complimented me for my taste in women, assuming that I had hired Cinti for her looks. The thing is, I wasn't the one who hired her. I just didn't fire her back when I took office.
A choice I almost regretted as she gave me a blank stare.
"Quarry quotes?" she asked. "OH! Right, the quotes for the stone needed to repair the thoroughfare. Uh... Just a second."
To call Cinti's organization style chaotic would be an understatement. I sighed as she lifted a pile of fictional books to leaf through the files beneath them. Beneath the files were various office supplies that saw little use, likely due to the fact that they were hidden from view.
I couldn't complain much, though. Things may be chaotic, but it somehow works and at a glance things appear fairly tidy. I wondered for a moment if she had been cursed by one of the fair folk. Something along the lines of 'you will never know organization again, but you can still keep things pretty clean'. Probably not, that's awfully specific for a curse.
"Here they are, Mister Mayor!"
I winced at the nickname as she handed me a few folders. It wasn't that it sounded tacky. It wasn't that it was alliterative. It wasn't even that the way she said it made it sound borderline flirtatious. No, there was a very specific reason the nickname bothered me, one that applied only to Cinti.
"My name is neither Mister nor Mayor, Cinti," I sighed.
"I-I know that... Uh... Sir!"
"It's been two years and you've heard it said hundreds of times."
"That's why I totally know it... Mi'lord."
"Do we need to get a nice, big portrait of me with a nameplate in extra large font and hang it up where you can see it every day?" I asked, almost serious.
"I SAID I remember your name... But that's actually a really good idea," her slightly purple eyes turned toward the walls. "We could get rid of the rickety old shelves that nobody uses and hang it up right over there!"
"So you DID forget my name?"
"W-well n-no, I just... Alright, fine. Yes. I'm sorry," she bowed apologetically. "I'm just really, really bad with names."
"I've been your boss and the mayor of this town for two years," I sighed. "Really, really bad doesn't even begin to cover it. Abysmal? Atrocious? Even those words don't quite do it justice."
"I know, I know," she bowed again. "I'm super sorry, sir. I'll work harder to remember your name."
"Bah," I flicked my wrist dismissively. "Don't bother. Everyone else in town has it down. It's no big... Wait, you voted for me without knowing my name?"
Cinti, in the midst of another bow, looked up at me with abject terror in her eyes. It was the kind of look one gives someone who has stumbled upon a terrible secret. My slightly bemused expression shifted to one of shock.
"I- Um... Well, you see..." she mumbled.
"Cinti. Please tell me that you vote."
"Yes, sir. I vote, sir."
"Now do it without lying."
"I can't, sir."
"Gods help me," I squeezed the bridge of my nose. "The mayor's assistant doesn't vote? What nonsense is this?"
"Loads of people don't vote, sir," she said, softly. "It isn't as if there's anyone but you to vote for, either."
"The fact that I run unopposed is not the point, Cinti. The point is that voting is more than a right, it's a civic duty!"
"But we don't get to vote for our lords or the emperor, so what's the point?"
"Don't give me that hnarse-shit. The fact of the matter is that I have a lot more power over this town than Lord Yav or Emperor Jak does."
"Huh?"
"Don't 'huh' me. They can order me to give orders, but do you think they would be willing to come here to ensure that I gave those orders? They probably wouldn't even bother to pay to send a messenger, so I'd be able to just burn the orders and pretend I never received them. They're so far removed from our day-to-day lives that they probably wouldn't even notice until our next round of elections!"
"Really?"
"Yes! Local politics are usually far more important to the average citizen than regional or national politics. If you're not paying attention to who is running, then you're likely to elect someone who's incompetent. Or worse, someone who's competent but has malicious intentions. It's dumb, Cinti."
"But I didn't vote for anybody, so I didn't elect anybody."
"Yeah, that's just putting the responsibility into someone else's hands. You don't know how many people out there are gonna make a good or bad choice, and by choosing to not make your voice heard you're allowing other voices to trample your own. That's even dumber than not paying attention to who you're voting for."
"Fine, fine," Cinti said with a sigh as she took her seat. "I'll vote in the next election, even if you run unopposed again."
"Good," I nodded and turned toward my office door. "Sorry for calling you dumb. I'll be in the office if you need me."
"Where else would you be?"
"Good point," I chuckled as I entered my office.
I closed the door behind me and took a seat at my desk. Talokam's mayoral office was much more modest than my previous office had been, but I found it to be more comfortable. Cozy, even. It was definitely a little heavy on the brown, though.
My desk, the walls, and even the floor were made of the same type of stained wood. The rest of the building was stone, so entering my office for the first time was usually a little jarring. That was likely by design, though, and I had used it as a tactic in various negotiations.
With a deep breath in and out, I began to review the quotes. The road-builders had wanted to purchase stone from a specific quarry, but the quarry in question was fairly distant from the town and the cost had looked high to me. It didn't take long to determine that they were overcharging by a wide margin.
"Fuckin' amateurs," I chuckled.
The road-builders had likely been offered a kickback, and this was probably their first time participating in such a scheme. It's a pretty simple scam, too. The quarry overcharges the city, and the builders get a cut of the extra profit. Expert grafters would have threatened to walk or offered me a bribe instead of allowing me the opportunity to look at extra offers.
Such schemes are pretty common in the Empire of Calkuti, especially in municipalities that have inexperienced leaders. It's a fair enough practice, so long as it doesn't toe the line of extortion or actual fraud. It would be best if these builders refrained from attempting this in the future, though.
I poured over the documents and found the best deal. A little extra stone than what was needed for less than a third of the original quote. I filled out the proper requisition forms and stamped them. The next step would be to subtly admonish the road-builders for their part trying to scam the town. The trick to such admonishment is to heavily imply that you are aware of the scheme and make them feel as if you are doing them a favor by not pressing the issue.
It's a classic tactic that can instill loyalty, and sometimes it can even scare people into staying legitimate. It's not a guarantee, but even good people make mistakes. It's best to let them learn from their mistakes without anyone being harmed. Of course, that could just be a little bit of naivety talking.
"Uh... Mister Mayor, you have some visitors," Cinti shouted.
"Do they have an appointment?" I shouted back absentmindedly.
"Nope! They were sent by the bartender at the Venator's Bureau. Once you let me send them in, you'll see why."
Cinti's ominous chuckle ignited my curiosity, but it's not good practice to allow walk-in visits from just anybody. Setting that kind of precedent can easily snowball into random people interrupting important tasks throughout the day. Or worse, a line of visitors.
On the other hand, the bartender in question is Snithin Olmaxi, who is actually the regional director of the Venator's Bureau. His love of micromanagement and serving alcohol aside, he's a pretty shrewd orc. He probably wouldn't send someone my way unless he felt that it was necessary.
"Fine, send them in," I shouted, then sighed.
A moment later, my door opened and three dwarves entered my office. My initial impression was that they were fairly normal adventurers, but the appearance of the first dwarf made me hesitate for a moment. I couldn't quite put my finger on why, though.
"Hey, hold on a minute," the dwarf said. "Jamuk?"
"Y-yes... Wait," I studied him a bit more, then laughed. "Gali? Little Gali?"
"What in the hells are you doing here?" My younger brother asked. "I thought you were working for the emperor or something."
"Or something," I sighed and shook my head. "I wasn't working directly for the emperor, I was working for the Imperial Office of Taxation."
"Oh, right. So how did you go from that to being a mayor?"
"I was sent here to conduct an audit. Turns out the previous mayor was embezzling funds, like most mayors do. Unlike the other mayors, though, he was terrible at covering his tracks and I had to turn him in. Nobody else wanted to be mayor, so I felt that it was my civic duty to take on the responsibility," I explained with an exaggerated air of nobility.
"Sure, sure," Gali laughed. "So which was it, the power or the money?"
"Definitely the money," I gestured toward the stack of papers on my desk. "I could do without the 'power', but this job pays a lot better than being an auditor."
"Did my ears deceive me, or did he call you 'Little Gali'?" the dwarf on the left said with an impish grin.
"HE can call me that, Rebis" Gali replied. "It's his right as my blood and elder. If YOU call me that, though, you'll be found in a ditch not far from where you made that terribly fatal mistake."
"Galili not little," a voice from behind my brother said. "He bigger than me, and I not little."
I raised an eyebrow and cocked my head at Gali. He suddenly seemed to remember the reason for his visit, and gave me a wide grin. It was a grin that I hadn't seen for a long time. A very, very long time. As a matter of fact, the last time I had seen that particular expression on my brother's face, he had hidden a sting-crab in my underwear. The swelling had prevented me from defecating for three days.
"Alright, let's make some room," he called over his shoulder. "Mako, Ithrima, you wait outside."
"I planned on it," a rumbling voice said from outside my office. "Fuckin' tiny dwarf buildings."
Gali took a step closer to my desk, and I barely noticed his dwarven friends moving to either side of my office. Instead, my attention was directed onto what my brother's movement had just revealed. A small, reptilian creature nervously stepped forward, holding a crown made of various detritus in his hands like a beggar.
"Jamuk Morathi, Mayor of Talokam and the surrounding municipality, I present to you Li'lord Simeeth, acting regent of the Talokam Dungeon," Gali bowed with an exaggerated, and likely sarcastic, gravitas.
"Oh, erm... How do you do?" was the reply I managed.
"Do good, little worried about being away from stuffs," the reptile replied. "You?"
"I-uh... I'm good as well. Somewhat confused about the nature of this meeting, though."
"Simeeth needs a trade permit," Gali interjected. "Well, another one. He already has an intermediary permit, but we're looking to get him and his kobolds the rights to open a store in the old, abandoned manor on the edge of town."
"Kobolds? Trade permit? Wait, the Talokam Dungeon..." I trailed off as several key pieces of information clicked into place.
Snithin, the kin-fucker that he is, told me that an elderly and powerful mage had helped clear the dungeon of vampires and wanted to set up there to prevent any more monster nests from forming. I had pre-filled an intermediary trade permit so that the mage could barter for supplies with our passing caravans, and entrusted the regional director to get the permit signed by the mage. Not once during the entire process, including when he returned the signed receipt, did he mention kobolds.
"So who is this 'Lord VysImiro', then?" I asked with an annoyed tone. "I take it that he isn't just some run-of-the-mill elderly mage."
"You haven't met him?" Gali asked, then laughed. "Larie VysImiro is the lich who helped us clear the vampires out of the dungeon. Simeeth here is his second in command."
My little brother noticed my demeanor change at the word 'lich' and held up his hands in a disarming manner.
"Larie didn't become a lich by choice. His dad turned him into one," he explained. "He's a good sort. I'll vouch for that. Before his dad turned him into a lich, he-"
My little brother vouching for him did little to assuage my fears, but listening to him ramble on about Lord VysImiro's life story gave me the chance to think it through. The lich had been in the dungeon for quite some time, now. Probably since the dungeon went inactive and stopped spitting out monsters.
As such, one could infer that the lich is responsible for the dungeon's inactivity. That, combined with the fact that it hadn't opted to lay waste to our town, means Gali is probably correct in his judgment of the lich's character. Snithin is an even better judge of character, and he wouldn't help something that would harm the town or its people.
"And having a dick-head for a dad doesn't make you a bad guy," Gali finished his explanation.
"Hmm... I don't know about that," I chuckled. "We didn't exactly turn out to be shining examples of morality."
"Sure we did. I hunt monsters and keep people safe, and you're a gods damned mayor. We're a far sight from being bandits like our pa."
"That probably has more to do with our mother than our father. Speaking of monsters, though, I can't grant a trade permit to one. It's illegal."
"Me not a monster," Simeeth said. "Me has thinks and words."
"Plenty of monsters are capable of thought and speech," I argued. "My hands are tied on the ma-"
"No, he's right, actually," the dwarf to my right interrupted. "Kobolds are not technically monsters. They aren't even classified in any officially recognized imperial bestiaries."
"Heino speaks true," Rebis added. "It may be because hunting them isn't worth it, or it could be because they tend to stick to their own affairs. Either way, the law don't consider them monsters."
I leaned back in my chair and studied the group standing before me. Allowing a kobold to set up shop in town could damage my reputation as mayor, but that would only matter if someone actually ran against me. On the other hand, it could be quirky enough to raise some extra tourism. Especially if we advertised it a bit.
"What kind of store?" I asked.
"A general store, wide variety of goods," Gali answered.
"Weapons?"
"Yes."
"Food?"
"Yes."
"What about medicine?"
"Probably."
"Shit, that's a lot of paperwork," I sighed. "What about narcotics?"
Gali turned to look at the kobold, who seemed to be following the conversation enough to be confused.
"What that?" it asked.
"A narcotic is a substance that affects one's mood or behavior. It can be eaten, drank, smoked, injected, or even snorted."
"So... Food?"
"No. Food can make you feel good, but narcotics usually make you feel better than good. I suppose the best way to describe it would be that it makes you feel like you're not your usual self."
"Oh. Wells, we grow mushrooms. Some of thems make stuff weird. The others go in the soup."
"Well, you can sell the ones that go in the soup," I sighed. "The ones that make things weird cannot be sold or traded. You can grow them, you can have them, and you can use them yourself, but you cannot trade them within the Empire of Calkuti. This includes bartering or adding them as an incentive to trade."
"Gotcha. No giving nobody the weird-making mushrooms."
"Good. Moving on, since you will be operating your store within the municipality, you will also have to keep detailed records of your transactions for taxation purposes. You will also need to set aside a portion of your profits to pay the aforementioned taxes."
"Uh..."
"We can hire somebody to do that for you," Gali said to the kobold, then turned back to me. "I assume this means you're willing to grant the permit?"
"I can't think of a reason not to," I shrugged. "However, there is a condition. You will need to purchase and renovate the manor. I'm tired of that damned eyesore and the rumors surrounding it."
"Okay, how much?"
"Eighty and ten."
Heino and Rebis drew in a sharp breath. My brother froze for a moment, then rubbed the back of his neck.
"Eighty silver and ten copper?" he asked timidly.
"No," I chuckled. "Eighty gold and ten silver. The manor itself is mostly worthless, but it still has most of its precious metal trim, and the land it rests on would make one hell of a field. The only reason we haven't scrapped the manor and marketed the property as farmland is because I would need permission from Lord Yav, and he would charge a special tax for the destruction of a building commissioned by nobility."
"I... Uh... I don't think we can afford that," Gali said.
"Your gods-damned right we can't," the unnamed dwarf replied. "We've got maybe fifteen gold total, and that's after an entire winter of hunting."
"I gots twelve golds from the elves," the kobold added.
"From the elves?" I asked.
"Yes. They comes from different place. They wanted to fights us in the dungeon but we didn't wants a fight, so they traded with us instead. Sold a bunch of stuffs. Oh..."
The kobold paused and rubbed the back of its neck.
"What is it?"
"Well, we didn't knows about the mush-"
"Stop talking," I held up a hand. "As far as I'm concerned, if the transactions in question took place in the dungeon it is no business of mine. However, if you tell me of your own volition that you've sold narcotics I am duty-bound to report you to the proper authorities."
"Oh, okays."
"Do you know where the coins come from?"
"South of here's what they saids."
"Likely Kivinor, then," I sighed and leaned back. "Kivinor coins have more precious metal content than ours do, but only by a third or so. We don't have banks big enough to offer mortgages around here... So I guess the municipality will have to back the loan."
"You're giving Simeeth a mortgage?" Gali asked with a laugh.
"Oh, no, absolutely not," I grinned. "I could never in a million years justify giving a loan to a kobold without a credit history."
"Then... What are you talking about mortgages for?"
"You went through all the trouble of bringing li'lord Simeeth here to my office, Little Gali," my grin widened. "I assume you want to see this venture succeed."
"Sure, but wha-"
Gali was interrupted by the Rebis's hysterical laughter. His confused expression turned from me to Rebis, then back to me. Then a metaphorical dawn shone upon his features.
"Wait..."
"Of course, some might see me giving my little brother a loan as a conflict of interest, but that's a risk I'm willing to take."
"Now hold on-"
"Oh, I see," the kobold interrupted. "You give Gali the more gauge and Gali buys the manor, then I pays him back with the profitses. Then the kobolds owns the manor, and we can has our shitty store! Sorry, city store!"
"Exactly," I beamed.
Gali looked back and forth between my malicious grin and the excited kobold. It had been a long, long time since I had been able to prank my brother, and I was relishing the moment. It was almost adequate as revenge for the sting-crab.
The prank also served to ensure that my brother wasn't just pulling my leg. If this is a serious venture, then Gali's name being on the mortgage won't matter at all. If Gali is just messing with me, though...
"Fuck," my little brother muttered under his breath.
Comments
Ben Bass
TYFTC! Could this be the first steps of a kobold trade empire? Have them build tunnels all across the various kingdoms for discreet transit of goods. That would be hilarious.
Michael Halpern
So long as the book keeper is honest given how Kobolds seem to be, it could be quite profitable. sure they may struggle with complex concepts but cheap products that do what is needed will always sell.
