TBATE | Twisted Ethos [Hiatus]

Just Business II

||Hulnur Crestwood||

"We've arrived, sir." The coach announced as he opened the door of the carriage.

I got up from my set and reached for a silver coin.

"For your troubles," I said.

"Thank you."

I stepped into the coarse brick roads of the seaside district of Etitsin. The smell of the sea whiffs through the air, countless ships docked on the harbors, sailors and merchants loading and unloading their wares.

Business as usual.

I stopped by the guildhall. It was a three-story building, the first made of the finest stone, while the rest were made of Marghun Ebony and Winter Cypress.

The entrance was a protruding middle section with twin towers on its flanks, windows neatly arranged while its façade made it seem more of a rich manor than an establishment made for our Collegium.

The roof was made of green tiles, a chimney stuck out of the left side of the building, emitting a cloud of black smoke in the air.

"Good morning, sir Hulnur." I was greeted by a thin man, wearing a merchant's black wares, as I walked inside the guildhall. He had brown tuffy hair and a young-looking face, he stood there awkwardly and had his grey eyes dart everywhere like someone who's had too much to drink.

"Likewise, you must be the new journeyman of Greskl." I pointed out.

"I am him." He replied enthusiastically, reaching out his hand for me to shake.

"I see," I inspected him, "From the looks of it looks like you've survived my wife's insane alchemistic experimentations." I chuckled while patting his shoulder.

"Miss Greskl looked into me like a fragile doll for the last four months. So far, I haven't had one fatal accident." He reported as we walked inside, with me leading the way.

"She's a gentle beauty. Isn't she?"

"Y-yes, especially to her patients and customers."

"A rule of thumb when becoming a master of the trade."

The hall was already occupied with the greatest artisans of the Arms Guild, titans of the weapon smithing industry.

"That's Thomas Saunders, a well-known armorer, a man in his forties; Copper hair, and a sharp face. Like any other smith he has the body of a bear, some scars and stitches riddle his arms and he always wears his work attire." I introduced him to the boy whose eyes lit up in liveliness.

"Jörghen Vahl, the greatest fletcher and bowyer of the generation, although he is a half-elf, he has proven himself quite useful. People could distinguish him easily by his gunmetal hair and pointy ears and the fact that he looks younger compared to the rest of us." I pointed out yet again.

"And last but not least, Hursk Spearthon is a polearms maker who has close ties to the army. He has the distinct qualities of Fauvim, jet-black hair, and blood-red eyes. Rumored to be an illegitimate son." I received an 'ooh' from him.

The Arms Guild is a cut above the rest, we control the monopoly of weapons manufacturing in this country. We set the rules, the regulations, and the standards of every armament that gets created, we handle everything that has to deal with weapons in this continent, the exports, the imports, and every transaction goes under our noses.

It's the same for the Varuna Merchant guild and the Forgeblade Miners guild, a tripartite of sorts.

I patted the journeyman's shoulder before parting ways as I saw the hand of Thomas waving at me.