Fantasy Economics 101 - Chapter 9

Adventuring is a serious business

While it could not compete with the capital's restaurants in quality, the Adventurers' Guild of New Reedcourt had a menu extensive enough to match theirs in length, if nothing else. After about an hour of waiting, time which Raol spent by jotting down every semi-useful tidbit that caught his nonexistent ears, his companions' orders arrived, just around the moment he filled up the first page of the book he was carrying.

In truth, more than half of his notes had nothing to do with his observations; rather, he meticulously documented all the lore and history he improvised for the character he was impersonating. While playing the 'eccentric scholar from a faraway kingdom' archetype required lots of spontaneity and tall tales to allay suspicion, it was just as important to keep his story consistent. It was especially vital for him, since he had to make his tales dangerously tall to draw his audience's attention away from his conspicuously concealed appearance.

Just as he finished writing, a young yet professional barmaid, her hair braided into pigtails and wearing a modest dress, placed a large, rectangular plate onto their table, with a whole roasted suckling pig on top of it. Following right behind her, another barmaid carried a stack of plates and utensils in one hand, and some side dishes in the other. Right as she finished distributing them, the first woman returned, this time carrying a whole lot of beer tankards.

All in all, they were having something of a feast, and while Raol's heart was still pained by the fact that he had to sacrifice all the gold he had on hand for this, he had long resolved himself to make the best of the situation.

"I believe we were talking about those 'professions' you mentioned, isn't that right, Miss Aurea?"

The lively girl, busy carving the rump of the roasted pig, turned to the disguised skeleton, her face clouded with confusion. At last, she recalled their previous conversation and flashed an ear-to-ear slime.

"Oh, yes! That's right! We were talking about something like that, didn't we?" Still patiently waiting for a proper answer, Raol posed his pen over the page. "It's not that difficult, really. Tris? Can you explain it, please? I'm kind of busy right now…"

"Very well," the demure woman sitting at the opposite end of the table responded with an expression that said she was already used to this kind of thing and turned to Raol. "Calling them a 'profession' isn't entirely accurate. You should think of them as designations used within the guild."

"And what is their purpose?"

Seeing that Raol's bespectacled eyes, completely hidden from sight, were presumably locked onto her even while his fingers kept moving over the book, Tremissis took a deep breath, resigning herself to give a full explanation.

"The designations serve to streamline the process of forming groups for specific tasks. Due to the nature of our work, most parties are temporary, created for particular commissions, and then dissolved once the contract is fulfilled. Blood and Flour is considered something of a rarity, since we'd been working together for about five years now."

"To give you an example," the gruff man in the armor, who considerably thawed to Raol once alcohol got involved in the conversation, put his half-empty tankard down and launched into an explanation of his own. "Imagine that someone found a new taralid hunting ground."

"They are small monsters, about the size of a wild dog, made of wood and bark," Aurea cut in, only to pull out of the conversation as she chomped down onto a hind leg.

"In other words, they are creatures that are both hard to hit and even harder to take down due to their thick skin," Lazlo continued without batting an eye at the interruption. "Knowing this, when people form a party to hunt them, they'd look for other adventurers who'd be a good match against taralids. For example, an archer or ranger would not be able to do much damage to them with their arrows, but they might be useful for tracking and trapping them. Or let's take a fire sorcerer; they would be very effective in combat, but if a taralid burns to ashes, it drops no loot whatsoever, so unless the party can also secure a water sorcerer, nobody would take them along."

"So what you're saying is that these designations exist solely to communicate one's specialization to other adventurers," Raol posited, and everyone nodded along. "If my memory serves right, you've already told me your designations when you first introduced yourself, but could I ask you to repeat yourself? In detail, if possible?"

"I'm a bard!" Aurea exclaimed, in high spirits after devouring her first serving in the blink of an eye. "I'm in charge of negotiations, gathering news in town, and I occasionally play the lute. It's good for getting free lodgings and extra drinks."

She was grinning proudly, and while Raol was still curious about why she was designated as a 'bard' of all things, the conversation moved on to the armored man.

"I'm a guardian. When fighting aggressive monsters, my job is to make a lot of noise and have them pay attention to me instead of the others. Otherwise, I mainly carry our luggage and loot."

"My job is to kill things," Hekte the rogue stated blandly while playing with a piece of vegetable on her plate. "Bows, traps, daggers, poison… Anything that gets the job done, really."

"As for me, I'm a cleric," the last person at the table declared but then didn't elaborate, as if what she said was self-explanatory.

"What does that mean?" Raol probed her, and Tremissis let out a long sigh, sounding as if this was something she had to explain time and time again.

"Clerics are rare," Aurea spoke up in her stead and pointed a fork at her sister. "It's like a priest, but instead of paying with gold, a cleric can just spread the word about the gods and can use small miracles in return."

"It would not be an overstatement to say that Tremissis is the linchpin that holds our group together," Lazlo declared, sounding slightly tipsy already. "She can not only heal us whenever we get scratched by beasties, but her prayers to Bel-Garat also keep our rations fresh, and she can ask Dilaoth for directions whenever we get lost and need a path back home. She's godsent."

"Lazlo, please! You're embarrassing me!" the young woman chided the armored man with a bashful smile that may or may not have hinted at affection, but Raol couldn't care less about the interpersonal relations between these people.

What he found truly important and worth noting down was that these 'clerics' were something he was already very familiar with, though, in his time, they went by another name: advocates. People contracted to the Seven Temples, but not technically part of the clergy, whose job was to spread the word about the various services they provided, often offering special discounts in the process.

Back in this Institute days, under the ministration of the Temple of Silva, he and his mates often joked that advocates were little more than walking billboards and salesmen for the temples, exchanging their services for minor miracles most priests and wizards would've considered cute at best. One of the more common (and less derogatory) jests at their expense was that the advocates were 'paying the temples in exposure', but in a twist of fate, it was exactly what became the source of their newfound prestige. After all, since no money changed hands in the process, their work was resistant to the inflation caused by the Wish Incident, and after rebranding themselves as 'clerics', Raol could certainly see how their small miracles would be sought after in a profession as dangerous as monster-hunting.

Even as he jotted his observations down, the skeleton's mind was filled with questions, and one of them soon rose to the forefront.

"What about magicka users?"

"Do you mean artificers or sorcerers?" Aurea asked back.

"What's the difference?"

"People who can use magicka innately are very rare," the cleric interjected to shed some light on the topic. "Artificers are the more scholarly type, who learned magick in one of the Monarchy's institutes."

"Also, a pain in the ass to work with," Hekte added with a sour note.

"You only say that because they usually come from noble families," the youngest woman at the table retorted, but quickly fell silent when the rogue sent a sideways glance her way.

"I met one a few months ago," Lazlo spoke up next, his voice sounding rather contemplative as he rubbed his chin. "He was traveling with a group of adventurers to collect catalysts and other materials. He said he wanted to open his own shop one way."

"That's what most artificers do. They make enchanted gear and tools and such."

Tremissis nodded along with her sister's assessment and added, "I think the only magicka users Mister Raoleem could find in the Adventurers' Guild are sorcerers who use channeling staffs and wands to cast a select few spells."

"Truly? A pity. I hoped I could learn more about the ways of your people through the way you utilize magicks. Such a shame."

Even though those words only served to fill out the silence while he translated his thoughts onto paper, Raol's table-mates were rather intrigued by them.

"If you want to know more about magicks, you can always visit the library," Aurea proposed, seemingly on a whim, yet it caused quite a commotion.

"Hey!" Hekte protested, all but slamming her hand onto the table. "Do you think anyone can just enter the library?"

"We can write him a recommendation."

"To a strange man we just met?!"

"Why not? He paid for our lunch, so he can't be that bad," the young bard argued and heaped yet another serving onto her plate.

"But he's suspicious! We don't know where he came from, what he really wants, and he didn't even touch the food yet!" the redhead rogue insisted, and it was the last point that made everyone turn a skeptical eye at Raol. Luckily, he already expected something like this, and with a careful motion, he pulled the top layer of the cloth covering his skull loose.

The fabric, now hanging like a veil over his lower face, still completely hid his features, but it still allowed access to his jaw, and after bashfully muttering, "I thank you for reminding me," he reached out with his fork, picked up one of the slices Aurea carved off the piglet. With skillful motions, he carefully maneuvered it under the cloth, and as he 'swallowed' it, the meat immediately dissolved into pure magicka.

"Hm. It could've used some seasoning, but alas, the spice trade of the East doesn't reach so far west. Remind me to treat you to a large pot of mutton frazetta if you ever visit my hometown. It's a famous Barbarian recipe, and not for the faint of stomach!"

For good measure, Raol forcefully laughed at his own jest and ever-so-delicately moved the beer kettle under his makeshift veil. Drinking it was much easier said than done, but he managed, and the display seemingly eased whatever suspicions the adventurers might've had about him. He was quite sure none of them expected him to be a skeleton in disguise, but it was better to be thought of as peculiar than suspicious.

"Ah. That was rather refreshing! Now, my friends, I believe we were talking about a library of some sort?"

"Yes. That." Lazlo hesitated for a moment, his eyes sweeping around the table before finally setting on Raol. "I could ask Eduard for a permit, I suppose..."

"Does this library of yours require an entry fee?"

"No, but it's not open to the public. Normally only registered adventurers can access it, but few bother to do so," the armored man explained, and after humming and pondering for a while, he shrugged. "I could ask the vice-guildmaster for you if you'd like."

"I would appreciate it," Raol answered with a nod, and that was the end of that topic. His table-mates were apparently waiting for his next question, so he pretended to clear his throat and tapped his finger on his book. "May I ask about something that had been bothering me for a long time?"

"By all means," the young cleric spoke in a gentle voice, and Raol figured it was as good an opportunity as any to broach the most important subject he wanted to know about.

"What happens to all the gold that you collect?"

The three women around the table momentarily froze, as if his inquiry was hard to process.

"What do you mean?"

Hekte, still sounding unfriendly as ever, leveled a rather curious gaze at Raol, which told him that the question most likely wasn't a taboo, merely unexpected.

"You hunt these awful creatures prowling your lands, and then when they die, gold pops out of them, or so I've been told. What happens to all that metal? If a whole pouch is only worth a single meal for five, I'm sure lodging, travel expenses, and equipment would cost much, much more, yet I can't imagine you carting your own weight in gold around wherever you go."

"No, we don't," Aurea confirmed, followed by a giggle. "Though, when returning from a long expedition, it sometimes does feel like we're lugging a whole wheelbarrow's worth of gold around, don't we?"

"You mean, I do," Lazlo noted with a frown, but then his eyes returned to Raol, accompanied by a thoughtful hum. "I can see why you would be curious about that. Based on what you told us about your homeland, it must all seem very strange to a Barbarian."

"Yes, I'm terribly intrigued," Raol confirmed his words and had his pen poised over a brand new blank page.

"It's simple, really," Aurea stated, and drew a big circle with her fork in the air. "First, we go on an expedition, either on a commission or searching for a new hunting ground. Once we fill our coffers, we come back to the Adventurers' Guild, and hand all the gold over to the receptionist. He counts them, and then it gets converted into credits."

"Same thing happens to collected materials and the bounties for successful commissions," the other sister added, and the young bard made another circle with her fork, but in the other direction.

"That's right! Then, if we want to buy something, like some food, or a new pair of boots, we put in a request, and then its price is either deducted from our credit score when the item is delivered, or the Guild contracts a craftsman to get it done."

"Are you saying that everything is done through the Adventurers' Guild?" Raol interjected, and the adventurers around the table nodded as if it was self-evident. "Does the guild use the gold to buy all of that?"

"That's… a good question," Lazlo responded, frowning. "I think all the foodstuff is brought in by the local farmers in exchange for credits too. It's the same for clothes and equipment as well."

"Except for metalwork. Those are imported," Tremissis pointed out, and Lazlo confirmed what she said with a nod.

"Wait! Please wait!" Raol raised his voice and put his pen down for the moment. "Is the Guild collecting both gold and other goods?"

"Yes?" Hekte responded with a skeptical squint, but Raol couldn't care less about her reaction.

"And then all of those are turned into an intermediary currency and redistributed?"

"If by that you mean the credits, then yes," the young cleric confirmed, followed by a long silence Raol spent furiously piecing the puzzle together.

If what they told him was true, it meant that the Adventurers' Guild wasn't just an average organization for monster hunters, but the one moving the Monarchy's entire economy. Yet… it didn't make sense.

Gold was practically worthless at the moment, so why would the Guild spend so much effort on supporting a class of citizens whose only job was to generate more of it? Did it have something to do with keeping monster populations under control? Was it caused by the Wish, or was it a side-effect of it? And most importantly, just how much gold was concentrated here?

Sixty coins bought him and his informants a single, if filling, meal. With the constant bustling of the tavern run by the Guild, Raol figured they made the equivalent of thousands of gold coins every single day, likely much more, considering there was a steady stream of adventurers entering the building and depositing their 'loot' every minute. Yet, when the Guild bought raw materials, they paid the farmers, craftsmen, and workers in their intermediate currency.

In other words, tens, maybe hundreds of thousands of gold coins entered this building, and none of them left the premises. What did they do with all that gold? Did they just stockpile them? Destroy them? Dump them in the closest body of water?

It was a mystery, and one that might serve as the solution to Raol's predicament, so he was determined to get to the bottom of it. However, before any of that, he carefully guided his tankard under the cloth covering his face and emptied its content into his mouth. While he couldn't get drunk, the gust of pure magicka gave him a rush all the same, and after planting the empty container back on the table again, he felt sure coming here to scout out the place was the right choice. But first…

"One step at a time," he whispered, and adopted his scholarly persona again, asking, "Let's put the topic of money aside for the time being. Can you tell me more about that library you mentioned before?"