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The Mercantile Mongoose: The New Ledgers of Calculon Rizz
JDodger:
Letter from Calculon Rizz
Message sent to all nobles of Sandalak (22 recipients) - 30 days, 6 hours, 24 minutes ago
Dearest Senator Nix, my friend, and also-dearest Governor-Hammer Asher, also my friend!
Hi! It's me, Calcy! How have you been?! I have been great!! OK! Polite catching up done! On to business!
This letter is to inform you that you are in breach of copyright! My copyright! Yes! The right of the Merchant of Might, the Mercantile Mongoose! The Conqueror of Commerce! Me! Calculon Rizz!
You stand hereby accused of a bold and boisterous breach of aforesaid inalienable commercial right, the right of copy! My legal beagles will be at your doorsteps shortly! With big writs and big sh'...! I told you all about them before! Their bark is wor bite is worse than their barks, their poo is worse than their chew! And they're coming for you!
The Original War Incorporated is a wholly-owned subsidiary of CalcCorp! We mothballed it when I decided to sail off into the sunset for a while!
So! What are you doing calling yourselves the ORIGINAL War Incorporated!?!?!
Calcy's back and feeling LITIGIOUS!!!
Calculon Rizz
Noble of Sandalak
JDodger:
Letter from Calculon Rizz
Message sent to all nobles of Sandalak (22 recipients) - 1 month, 1 day, 11 hours, 4 minutes ago
Calculon's STUFF TO DO!!! list
1. Buy coffee ✔️
2. Get to Sandy City
3. Write thank you notes to Asher and Nix
4. Sue Chancellor Three
5. Recruit archers
6. Buy better coffee
Calculon Rizz
Noble of Sandalak
JDodger:
FOURISH SEASONS AGO
EAST CONTINENT - PARTORA
ON A DARK AND STORMY NIGHT
The night wind along the scarp is bitter sharp, and a few shadowy figures shudder their ways down the water's edge along the seawall to a particular inn, no more than a shack thrown up along the dockside really, and quiet for such a spot. Inside, a lone candle burns dull against a dirty window, and the door creaks as the first man, the largest, throws it open and peers inside.
"Just him, Boss," he says, breath foggy and damp along the edge of the candlelight, and he holds the door open as a far shorter and slighter figure slides in, followed by the others.
The Boss he addresses is cloaked and hooded in sable ermine, and shivers a great deal less as they step inside the frigid and mostly-empty common room. A long bar lines an interior wall, a few dingy tables and chairs are strewn about, but not a drop or crumb to be found on any but the one in the far back corner, the one that stands vanguard for a wrap-around seat that, while tattered, appears quite comfortable, by the thickness of the cushions and the foggy-breathed but quite relaxed figure that sits thereupon.
He, too, is clad in sable, but his cloak is worn and patchy. He flips up an eye patch to reveal a more-or-less normal-looking eye beneath, and the candlelight plays along a scarred and weathered face, a hawkish nose and a dyed-black beard, but it seems to reflect even more dully from the dark eyes than the dirty windows, those steady-gazing eyes behind which burn a far fiercer fire than the candle can hope to contest.
The slight one stands before the table, upon which sit but two cups and two plates of cold but well-dressed fish - his guards will have to wait for supper, it seems. He shivers, crosses his arms and speaks first. "You are the Bard?" he inquires with a hushed but shrill nervousness.
The Bard, otherwise still upon his threadbare throne, holds up his hands, scarred palms outward. "And you are?" he asks quietly.
The slight one shivers - no, bristles, his shoulders hunching up not from cold, but in indignant annoyance. "And I am?!" he squeaks wrathfully. "I?! Me?! Well, I'm... I'm Calculon! The one who sent you the letter!"
"Oh," says the Bard drily, scrunching his eyebrows and looking down to pull a long... thing, like... something wrapped in a leaf. Seemingly conjuring flame from his fingers, he sets one end on fire and places the other in his mouth. Great clouds of smoke begin to billow forth, which sets Calculon to hacking.
"Oh?!!? Oh?! Put that out, oh!!" Calculon squeals, covering his face. "Gross! Smoking!"
"The Mercantile Mongoose," the Bard replies with a wry grin. "I didn't expect you to be such a sensitive little fellow."
"Sensitive!!?" Calculon wheezes, his hand going from his face to the sword-hilt hidden under his cloak. The bulkier figures behind him begin to rise from their various dingy chairs, but an upraised finger from the Bard makes them pause.
Spliff between his teeth, Bard takes a long sip and exhales. From the right side of his mouth, he growls, "Look under the table."
One of the guards has a better angle than Calculon, and lets out a quiet "!@#$."
Calculon, wide-eyed, bends nearly in half and looks.
A miniature crossbow, fixed to the underside of the table, pointed right at a place you'd rather not be shot, and the Bard's finger deftly wrapped around the trigger.
He shoots up straight and smiles widely, big teeth shining out from his big round head.
"So, Mister Bard! Shall we talk business?!?!"
JDodger:
FOURISH SEASONS AGO
EAST CONTINENT - PARTORA NEW INTEL SUGGESTS HAMADAN
ON A DARK AND STORMY NIGHT
"So you want me to launder ten thousand weight of gold bullion?" Bard's spliff has smoked down to about half now, and smolders comfortably between his hard-set lips.
"Exactly!" Calculon has eaten, drank the scary man's funny tasting coffee, and started to relax. Business as usual! he thinks, and he hums a merry tune as he nurses a morsel of meat from between the well-picked ribs of a demolished fish.
"Well, there's a problem." the Bard says, his eyes quietly burning into Calculon's as the smoky leaf burns in his mouth.
Calculon's face falls. "Please don't shoo..."
Bard silences him with a sharp glare. "Problem is, your gold's cursed."
"Cursed?!?!" Calculon flies up from his chair, hands spasmodically grasping at his wispy golden tufts of thinning corncob hair. "How can money, glorious money, hard currency, bullion, be CURSED?!?!"
"South Island gold is all cursed," Bard states flatly. "You should have waited for a reply before loading ten thousand weight on a damned ship and sailing up here."
Calculon stares at him in shock and horror. "Cursed how?" he asks.
"Curse of death," says Bard, raising an apologetic-yet-chiding eyebrow at Calculon. "Spend it on another continent, you die. Fast."
Calculon collapses back into his chair, sinks his face into his upstretched, supplicating hands.
"I'M BROKE!" he sobs.
JDodger:
FOURISH SEASONS AGO
EAST CONTINENT - HAMADAN
ON A DARK AND STORMY NIGHT
"There's something else we need to discuss," Bard says as he lights another spliff.
"Oh?! What's that?!" Calculon had been just about to shake hands and take his leave, which he is sure will relieve the phantom pressure of the crossbow beneath the table.
"It's your brother, Tetraxian."
"Oh?! How is old Tetrax?! He always was my favorite non-twin brother!"
"Well, he's been kidnapped."
"What?! Kidnapped?! Tetrax?! Who would dare?!" Calculon shoots up from the table. "We must go to rescue him at once! Yes! Out the door, all of us, now!"
"Not so fast," says Bard, motioning Calculon to retake his seat. "You asked who, right? A good question, among several others. Like how, like why. Like where is he now."
"...Yes!" Calculon concedes reluctantly, sinking down into his seat with his hands in his lap. "So! I assume you have the answers?"
"For all but the last," Bard says. He sighs, he smokes, he leans back in his threadbare throne, and he sings Calculon a song...
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