The Butcher of Gadobhra
Chapter 496: Home Security

The Baron of Gadobhra greeted his guests warmly in their own language and urged them to take food and make themselves comfortable.

"You traveled far to get here. I offer you limited and revocable guesting rights in my city as family of my family."

Scalesofgray, Smallwebbedfeet, and Curiouscamoflage were very satisfied with their status. It recognized the bond between them and Uncavarn, as well as the bond between Dammitbilly and Uncavarn. They were family for their visit, only once removed. An offer of loft status, indeed. As underpriests and of the descending faction, they would normally only be offered such status in very small villages. Food and lodging in those villages consisted of a leaky hut and a place near the communal eating pot, scrabbling for food like everyone else. Dammitbilly was a wise host with tasty new foods to try and old favorites. He was a wise and generous host. They also knew he wanted something from them, but they were unsure of what.

Dammitbilly gave them time to eat until they could eat no more, then indicated they should sit in an informal gathering where one could speak of things and deny them later with no insult intended. Much work got done in such meeting places. They were unprepared for just how much work Dammitbilly wished to get done. After they formally thanked him for the food, their temporary status, and the entertainment of the night before, he looked at each of them and said, "I need to know intentions so that I can decide on your permanent status."

That took them by surprise, and as usual, Smallwebbedfeet spoke, and the other two remained silent. It was a strategy they had used since they emerged from their eggs. "Apologies, great Baron, we are a simple people and unused to making decisions quickly. We ask for the wisdom of your thoughts."

Spoken like any low-tier manager when pinned by a question you don't know how to answer. "Let's examine your position on the Great Organizational Pyramid of Priests." He handed each a folder in the pleasing color of light blue. They noted that their names were inscribed on each, a pleasing touch. Inside were details of the Great Organizational Pyramid that even they didn't know! While Scalesofgray and Curiouscamoflage began studying the parts formerly hidden from them, Smallwebbedfeet found their clan and subfamily, distressingly lower on the pyramid than when they left. He pointed this out, and all three of them made the unhappy sounds in the backs of their throats, signaling extreme displeasure and anxiety.

Billy gave them a few minutes and saw that the information had created the desired effect. "Your clan is in the descending current, led by your family. You'll note that the clans ascending to power are those opposed to you. Their best move is to exterminate or assimilate your clan, rendering it unable to strike back. Something you should have done in the last great turnover. You missed your chance, a dragon showed up, and things turned over again."

The truth of his words was evident to the priests. "Curse the elders and their need to 'rub salt into the wounds of submission'."

Billy nodded, "I couldn't agree more. So, with that knowledge in hand, you have a decision to make about your pending permanent status. You see, Lesser-God-Emperor Uncavarn is going home soon and will be challenging the hell out of the oversized lizard that moved in. You boys are either part of a dead clan, or if you're lucky, made even-lesser-priests. Sadly, that will make you adversaries of Uncavarn, and by extension, of me. Not something I recommend, but hey, up to you. On the other hand...there is an option for you to avoid a ceremonial shaming, taking a lower status, and eating cracked seeds and beetles for the rest of your lives."

"Yes? I mean, I speak for all of us when I say we would like to consider the second option."

Billy grinned. "Good to have options. Remember who gave you this one. Very important. The other path you can take is to declare yourselves followers of Uncavarn, and accompany him home when he goes to challenge."

"Oh. We see." It was slightly better. They would charge the current God-Emperor next to Uncavarn and be turned into snack food. At least it was quick.

"We accept the offer of accompanying Uncavarn and dying next to him. Will there be food provided for the trip, or must we forage?"

This amused Dammitbilly greatly. "Food is on me. And who said you were going to die? This time, Uncavarn is using my plan. Take a look." He rolled out a lovely map that showed many villages and some of the mines. "We plan to deploy here and make a start with this village. Uncavarn will put on a show, aided by his three Great Priests, recruit some of the villagers to his army, and then head to the next village. This is a slow campaign, and the first part is designed to deprive the dragon of his income, make him uneasy, and turn the populace against him. Angry God-Emperors make mistakes."

Dammitbilly continued, filling in small details, and they added points on his map, smaller villages, places known for plentiful food, and dreaded places to avoid. They would walk this path and see where it went. Curiouscamoflage voiced their unease. "Will the three Great Priests have their households with them, and what shall our place be?" This was an important part of any negotiation.

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Dammitbilly brought out a new piece of tanned leather, inked with a smaller Organizational Pyramid, only partly filled in. One tier down from Uncavarn, and to the left was the traditional place for the names of the Great Priests. They blinked many times to see their own names in those spots. Looking up at Dammitbilly in wonder, they had trouble speaking.

"Oh, did I forget to mention your promotions. We're flipping the pyramid, and Uncavarn needs Priests he knows and can trust. As of today, you have the job, I've got ceremonial robes and hats waiting for you, and a small feast."

All three Great Priest went to their knees and bowed low three times. They would remember this day, and who they worked for, Dammitbilly, Crafty True Challenger of the False-Emperor. A door was opened, and a lackey beckoned them into the lavish room where, as promised, a feast and new attire were waiting for them. They talked late into the night. Each of them had attained the topmost spot of the second tier of life, but had been denied the third for long years. As Great Priests, they had no such limits and would ascend to Level 11 this night and revel in their new power.

Billy walked back to his office, one job done. Ben was waiting for him. "Need something?"

His Courier nodded, "I was wondering if you wanted to know the details, or would rather remain ignorant and take the money." He dumped a twenty-pound bag of gold, rubies, and diamonds on Billy's desk. "I have an order for beer and blessed warmachines."

Billy spent a moment savoring the smell and feel of the gems as he ran them through his hands. "The answer is 'Who cares, I'll take the money, ' but that can lead to an audit, accusations, a kangaroo court, and jail time for embezzlement. Seen it happen. So tell me about this order."

"The Goblin Chief contacted me, worried about his tribe and how to keep them safe. After lengthy negotiations, I managed to sell him fifty of the ACME 'Straight Shooter' Ballista, and ten of the 'Kicks like a Mule' onagers. Normally, that would give them six free onagers as a bonus, but the Chief is a tough cookie and wanted something different to drop rocks at a distance. We settled on four free 'God of War' Trebuchets. He also wants them assembled, mobile, and with ammunition for each machine. They've moved from the spot outside of town to someplace new, and he's worried about home invaders and wandering hordes of people. Strangely, not everyone likes goblins, and they know that Winter might show up soon. To soothe his people in this time of uncertainty, he also needs a few wagonloads of beer."

"Beer? How many barrels?"

"Two hundred for the first shipment, and another two hundred a week for six weeks."

"That's a hell of a lot of beer."

"Oh, and he wants Blud Double Dark with the extra kick. The tribe is big on whiskey, but the stronger beer is becoming popular."

Billy looked at the order and the money. "Where does a tribe of goblins get this much cash?"

Ben shrugged. "They do a lot of treasure hunting in old ruins. But does it matter?"

"I don't suppose it does. Blessed is the customer who pays cash in advance."

Ben tipped his hat. "I thought you'd see it that way. How would you like to handle my commission?"

Billy's eyes narrowed. "What commission? You're a contract worker."

"I am, but as a Courier. This deal was done outside of normal hours, and 20% is pretty standard for this sort of 'outside salesman' job."

"Twenty per cent?! You'll get five and like it."

"Well, I would like 5%, but not as much as 15%, and I might not be able to find the time for his next order. He doesn't know if fifty will be enough. Something about trolls."

Billy chewed on his cigar and glared, then stuck out his hand. "10% on this order and any other order you pull out of nowhere. But you have to oversee everything from start to finish and make sure the delivery happens and the customer is happy."

Ben shook his hand. "A deposit to my account at the gnomish bank is fine. I'll be using part of it to send the chief a couple of cases of Red Wizard Whiskey. To keep him happy and drunk. And I'll take the order to Suzette and Jorges right now, so they can get started."

Billy nodded, then remembered something and snapped his fingers. "Find Rufus, Jorges is working on the defenses of the southern villages. He'll be gone at least a week."

Ben saluted snappily and ran off. Billy picked up the heavy bag and went to find Layla. A few of those gems would never make it to the bank, but that was fine with him. It never hurts to have some traveling money at home in case of emergencies. He wondered again about what the hell the goblins were going to do with all that artillery, then chuckled. "Who cares? I'm an arms dealer, I sell to anyone, Wargod's orders."