Ramik was frustrated.
After five years of clawing toward prosperity, Ironshore was finally on the verge of turning a profit. He could see it in his mind’s eye, looming just out of reach. Once they crossed that epheral line, everything would change. Already, he’d begun to see the effects. Humans made up almost twenty percent of the populace, and that number was climbing by the day. More importantly, they brought with them a number of necessary skills, including the ability to augnt the city’s defenses.
Certainly, there had been plenty of problems. Like anyone else, those humans had their own goals, and because they had no real loyalty to Ironshore, they put their needs above the requirents of the city. Still, so long as they were paid on ti and given what they needed to progress, they played the roles given to them.
Balancing that wasn’t the source of Ramik’s frustration, but it certainly was a contributing factor.
No – the issue was the mine.
He turned to Carissa and asked, “How many have we lost?”
“Seven Miners in the past two weeks,” she said. “We sent so Hunters in there, but there ain’t nothin’ to suggest what happened to ‘em. It’s like they just up and vanished.”
Ramik groaned, then removed his hat. It was new, created by the Tailor Mari to help keep him alert. It accomplished that feat via the trait Wakefulness, which sent periodic jolts of vitality through his body. They weren’t powerful enough to heal him, but they did restore so of his stamina, allowing him to keep going for longer without stopping to rest.
Still, he was almost as tired as he was frustrated.
“We need to shut it down,” Carissa said, scratching her chin. She jabbed a stubby finger at the map on her desk as she added, “At least this section here. That’s where they disappeared.”
“We can’t do that, Carissa.”
“I know it ain’t –”
“That’s the most profitable section of the mine. If we shut it down, we’ll struggle to keep our heads above water,” he explained. “You know what happens if we don’t make those interest paynts. The Green Mountain Mining Guild will –”
“I know what happens if we default, Ramik,” she said, losing a bit of her accent. Ever since she’d started hanging around that Blacksmith so much, her speech patterns had begun to subtly shift. Was it intentional? Or just a result of her exposure to a new dialect? Ramik didn’t have enough information to say for sure, and what’s more, he didn’t care. He liked Carn, and he knew that she and her project would be a great boon for Ironshore. But that was a problem for the future. For now, she was a secondary concern at best.
“Then you know why we can’t shut it down,” he said. Indeed, the section of the mine where Carissa’s people had disappeared was far and away the most valuable branch. The others only had fairly weak versions of blood tin and so Crude-Grade iron. But that other section – that was where they’d found the veins of sun copper that had finally let them turn a corner toward profitability.
“You think they’ll call the debts due?” she asked.
“I know they will,” Ramik stated. The deal they’d made with the Green Mountain Mining Guild was simple. The organization provided the capital they’d needed to establish the city, and in return, Ironshore was required to pay them back with interest. To date, they’d managed to make the escalating interest paynts, but Ramik knew that it wouldn’t be long before they’d spiral out of control.
And if they started missing paynts, he would be held accountable. The penalty for the first missed paynt was simple enough. Just an extra paynt that would be difficult to make, but not impossible. The second sent that number even higher. But the third? His debt – alongside a few of the other key figures in the town – would be converted to indentured servitude.
Which was basically legal slavery.
Ramik had seen it happen to other mbers of his family, and he knew just how devastating it could be to crawl his way up from sothing like that. He’d never recover, and he’d end up being a virtual slave for the rest of his pitiful life.
So would Carissa and about thirty others who’d put their lives on the line to get the city up and running. Not to ntion what would happen to the city itself. Guild-run mining towns were soulless pits if despair where no one was ever given the opportunity to truly advance. If the Green Mountain Mining Guild took over, that would be Ironshore’s fate.
That just was not acceptable.
“We need to send a team in there,” he said. “People with experience with this sort of thing.”
“Who?” Carissa asked. “We still haven’t recovered from losing our whole security force. We’ve made so progress, but we can’t spare anyone.”
“What about the Blacksmith? She ran a mine before, right?” Ramik asked.
“I wasn’t s’posed to tell you that,” Carissa countered.
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“But you did,” he said, pacing back and forth. Carissa had been a little drunk when she’d revealed so of Carn’s history, but the fact was that the Blacksmith was likely as experienced in dealing with mining problems as anyone else in town. Plus, she was one of the highest-level people in Ironshore, so even if she was a Tradesman, she could handle more than most. “Do you think she would do it?”
“I don’t know,” Carissa admitted. “She just wants to build her forge and be left alone.”
“What if we made it worth her while?” Ramik asked.
“We don’t have anything she needs. With her skills, she’s been makin’ a killin’. She can buy all the materials she wants,” Carissa stated.
Ramik tapped his chin as he gave it so thought. “What if we give her a stake in Ironshore?” he asked after a mont. “It would tie her to us, and it would help her get what she needs to advance.”
In truth, he’d been considering doing that anyway. The opportunity represented by such a talented, motivated, and high level crafter was unquantifiable. That was especially true, given her work on the Great Forge. It was just starting to take shape, but in a year or two, it would rival so of the wonders of his own native planet. Perhaps it would even bypass them altogether and beco sothing uniquely powerful.
Still, he’d hoped to get so concessions out of her before he took that step. A commitnt that would push the city to even greater heights.
“She might do that,” Carissa said. “She wants sowhere to call ho. But don’t you think we should wait for Elijah and the others to get back from the Trial? That’s only a few weeks away.”
“We can’t afford it,” Ramik said. He knew if they got behind, their chances of ever escaping the spiral of debt would be nil.
“I’ll ask her, but I think I can already tell you the answer,” Carissa said.
“Ask anyway,” Ramik said, already trying to think of alternatives. If the Blacksmith didn’t want to help, then his options were quite limited.
“Is there anything else?” Carissa asked. “I don’t an to be rude, but I’ve got a lot of work to do.”
Ramik shook his head, then took his leave. After stepping out of Carissa’s office, he headed into the city proper. Along the way, he marveled at how much had changed, and in only a few short years. After everything they had endured – from the first run-in with Elijah to the battle against the orcs – it was a minor miracle that the city had continued to grow and, in its own way, prosper.
He’d invested all of the city’s spare resources into the future, and now that his plans were on the verge of reaching fruition, the slow-down in the mine threatened to bring it all tumbling down. He refused to let that happen to his city. Not so long as he still drew breath.
Lost in thought, he traveled through the city. Their population had passed the twenty thousand mark, which was quite remarkable, considering how few people they’d had when they first arrived. Most of the city’s industry centered around the mine, but they also had nurtured a reasonably profitable – if very dangerous – fishing operation. In addition, there were hundreds of smaller businesses that had sprung up to see to the population’s needs.
And then there was the trade deal with Norcastle.
The latest caravan was a little overdue, but that wasn’t too surprising. The way was difficult and fraught with danger, so so delays were inevitable. But if they lost more than a couple of those wagon trains, it would be disastrous.
That was true of everything in Ironshore. On the surface, it was a booming frontier city filled with happy, productive people. But Ramik knew better than anyone that the entire operation was balanced on the edge of a knife. One wrong move, and everything would co toppling down.
The city’s potential was plain to anyone with eyes, though. The ethera density was higher than anywhere he’d ever been, and it was still thickening as the planet matured. One day, it would surpass even the parts of his ho world where people like him weren’t even allowed.
He wouldn’t give that up, and not just because of the opportunity it represented. Certainly, that was part of it. He’d fought and bled for Ironshore, and the notion of soone else reaping the rewards for his hard work was abhorrent. However, even that paled in comparison to what he expected would happen if the Green Mountain Mining Guild took over.
What would they do when they saw the island across the strait? It was clearly special, and if he knew the guild – or more importantly, the sorts of people they would send to run the city once he was indentured – they wouldn’t be able to resist the call of so much power.
And if soone else from Ironshore ca to that island with ill intent, Elijah wouldn’t react well. It wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that he would kill everyone in the city. He had the power to do just that, Ramik knew, and he’d already shown that he wouldn’t hesitate to kill anyone who crossed him. Most of the ti, he was reasonable enough, but when that island was threatened, he beca sothing else. Sothing wild and uncontrollable.
No – there was more than just Ramik’s freedom at stake. The lives of everyone in Ironshore hung in the balance.
“You look pensive, chief,” ca a drawling voice. Ramik turned to see the tall swordsman who’d co to town with Carn and her son leaning against a nearby wall. “Sothin’ on your mind?”
Ramik was on the verge of saying sothing noncommittal when he realized that the answer to his problems was standing right beside him. Colt wasn’t as high of a level as Carn, but he was a powerful veteran whose combat prowess exceeded that of anyone else in Ironshore. More, he had a combat class that stemd from the Warrior archetype, which made him even more lethal than most in the city.
Ramik had only t him in passing, and then only when he accompanied soone else he’d deed more important. Like Elijah or Carn. Or even the child who’d just acquired his archetype. However, in retrospect, the company Colt kept had a lot to do with why he’d faded into the background. He was powerful in his own right, and Ramik felt certain that the man was on the verge of entering the top one-hundred among all humans.
“Why is it that you’re still here?” Ramik asked. “I’m sure you were offered a spot in the Trial of Primacy.”
Colt shifted a bit, his hand still on the hilt of his single-edged sword, before saying, “It ain’t that complicated. Way I see it, if all the strong people went to that Trial, it would make everyone that stayed behind uniquely vulnerable. I don’t care so much about personal power, but there are people here that I do care about. So, I stayed.”
“And what would you do if sothing threatened the well-being of those people?” Ramik asked.
“Ah, that’s the kicker, ain’t it? Depends on what that sothin’ is.”
“For the sake of argunt, let’s say that it threatens the entire city,” Ramik elaborated.
“Well, in that case, I suppose I’d have to do sothin’ about it,” Colt answered. “This ain’t a hypothetical, is it? Sothin’ has co up.”
“It has,” Ramik admitted. “And I’m not overstating it when I say that it does indeed threaten everything we’ve built. Including those people you care about.”
“I guess you oughta go ahead and tell what’s goin’ on so I can see about fixin’ the problem, then.”
“I guess I should. Follow ,” Ramik said, already heading toward his office. Hopefully, he’d just found an answer to his problems.
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