Ch.32

After several weeks of sailing, Erik and his crew arrived at the coast of the city of Capricene, Highland. The day of their arrival, a thick fog blanketed the waters, obscuring their view. However, in the distance, multiple lights pierced through the mist, acting as beacons to guide ships safely to shore.

With cautious navigation, Erik steered the ship through the sparse fog, maintaining a watchful eye on the path ahead. As they neared the city, the fog gradually dissipated, revealing a multitude of boats dotting the water's surface.

In awe, Chester leaned against the ship's side alongside the other crew members, all marveling at the sight before them. Dozens of fishing boats were anchored to wooden pillars, creating a labyrinthine network in the murky water. Carefully maneuvering through the narrow passages between the boats, Erik skillfully brought the ship closer to the bustling docks.

Every available space at the docks was occupied, leaving them no choice but to squeeze into the old and dilapidated harbor located at the city's outermost edge.

The air was heavy with the putrid stench of rotten fish, permeating every inch of the decaying wood. Wrinkling their noses, the men endured the foul odor as they secured the ship, finding themselves amidst the worn and weathered surroundings of the rundown harbor.

They anchored their ships using ropes just as a man approached from down the wharf. Spotting the approaching figure, Erik disembarked from the ship, instructing his men as he passed them. "Put your hoods on."

The crew members, all donning black cloaks with attached hoods, swiftly complied. Pulling their hoods over their heads, they turned away, concealing their faces from the oncoming harbormaster.

"Oi!" The harbormaster called out as he drew nearer. "You need to pay the fee to dock your ship here. Two silver."

The harbormaster was a bald man with a portly belly, his shirt as stained and filthy as his yellow teeth. Calmly, Erik approached him, reaching into his pouch.

"Are you the dock owner?" Erik inquired, holding a gold coin between his fingers.

The man's eyebrows arched with interest, his face breaking into a large and greedy grin. "Yes, sir, I am." He replied.

"Consider this payment, as well as a fee for some information." Erik said, tossing the gold coin to the man, who caught it anxiously, fearful of dropping it.

"Of course..." The harbormaster responded, his eyes scrutinizing the coin as he bit it with his yellowed, decaying teeth. "Is this real, aye?"

"Yes. It is pure gold. I have more where that is from, in fact..." He raised up his pouch and shook it, the sound of coins clinking against one another, like the seductive voice of a woman in his ear. "...All yours, as long as you assist my comrades and me."

"Of course!" The harbormaster shouted gleefully. "Whatever it is that you need."

"Good, however, I should mention the work we are here for, is not exactly for the crowd's ears."

He didn't even bat an eye as he took the pouch from Erik's hands, laughing in response. "Good! Fuck them imperials! City's gone to shit since they took over anyways. Now then, what do ya wanna know?"

Erik sat with the harbormaster in his office, a small room full of trash and oddities, a drink between the two of them.

"How has the city faired since the Serudinians won the war?"

"How was it faired?" The harbormaster poured himself a drink in a tiny shot glass. "Well... Lemme put it like this, yeah?" He downed the drink. "Every since them fuckin paladins took up residency in the churches, they been goin round, imprisonin and executin all and whoever they want to, of course, this is only on the central streetway. Places like this, they don't give a rat's ass 'bout."

"So crime is..?"

"Higher! Higher than ever!! Just not in public..." He poured himself another drink while grumbling to himself. "The thing is, they do not care what happens to us, as long as you don't desecrate their faith and whatnot, they'll leave you be. The clergy used to offer food and cleanse sickness best they could, and the knights would dispose of drugs and stop fights, but these... Fuckin paladins, they don't do shit all! They outlawed magic, and even forced all the brothels to shut down in the name of their faith, cause apparently lust is a sin! The virgin bastards."

"Are there any of the clergy left?"

"Hmm... I don't know 'bout that, really. I know the clergy fled once the war was lost, those who stayed and were caught, were beheaded in public, but there might be some in hidin, or some who converted."

"I see. Why are all the ships in the bay?"

"Oh that? Cause, used to be, there was a trade route 'cross the ocean, tradin with the elves, but ever since the imperials moved in, they cut off all foreign trade for some reason. Real shame too, would get some elven women, real beauts, and the woodelvish rum was top tier. Anyway, with no else to go, they just sit there, collectin gull shit and rottin away. Been that way for months now."

Erik contemplated for a few moments, the sound of rats scurring behind the walls, and bells ringing in the distance. He stood up to take his leave, thanking the harbormaster out the door. "I appreciate what you have done, but do keep in mind, that gold is better spent scarcely, and my arrival, was something you cared not to investigate."

"Of course."

Erik returned to his ship and to his awaiting crew. "Chester, you are coming with me, the rest of you will stay here and guard the ship. We will return before night."

"My lord, where are we going?" Chester asked, running up behind Erik as he made his way back down the wharf.

"To purchase some land, Chester. From here on, we are both merchants who made a hefty amount of coin back in our home country of Krefton. We immigrated here in hopes of setting roots, and from now on, we are Seratholic. You will remain my steward."

"Ah... Yes, my lord. I understand."

They went up to the town, just above the harbor, where a narrow and filthy street, with run-down, old, and cramped buildings lined the sides. It wasn't inhospitable, but it was clear from the way the people were dressed and the streets were littered with trash and barrels, that it was the slums.

"My lord... Such a place is beneath your benevolence." Chester commented, watching where he stepped and holding his nostrils shut.

"It is necessary." He responded as he stopped in his tracks. "Chester, when you look around here, what do you see?"

Chester turned to scan the area, taking note of the nearby orphanage and the children playing outside on the streets, nearby whores, standing out in the open, or the common vagrant. Of course, he knew the kind of answer that Erik was looking for, wasn't so simple.

"There are no guards."

"Yes, making it perfect for my plan."

"Uhm... My lord, what exactly is your plan?" Chester asked.

Erik stepped closer to him, placing his hand on his shoulder and whispering near his ear words that sent shivers down his spine. "To kill the king, of course."

Within the coming days, all of the property in the slums would be bought up for a minuscule amount of coin. The very street itself would be considered his, and within days, Erik would establish himself as a very wealthy man, looking to renovate what was considered dead land.

Bringing his own people in to work for him would draw too much attention, so he enlisted the help of the locals, who for a small bit of coin, did just about anything he wanted without question.

Over the course of days, the streets would be renovated, the buildings cleaned up and repaired, and all trash and scraps would be disposed of in a nearby lot used for smithing.

Erik took up residency in the largest building located on the corner of the street, the former home of an aristocrat. It had been long abandoned, but many of the previous owner's belongings had been left behind to fill up the home.

Erik hired some local widows and wives to clean and dust the place, all the while he cracked open the basement door.

The wooden doorway seemed as though it would break off the hinges had he used a tad more strength, but he managed to open it, a gust of air being sucked in as he did. He covered his mouth and nose to shield himself from the dust, pulling up his mask before making his way downstairs. His steps were silent, but the wood beneath creaked underfoot.

There was no light, it was eerily quiet, and the air was rather chilly. It was a cellar full of wine bottles, with dozens, if not hundreds, lining six rows of wine racks, each one covered in dust and cobwebs.

He took one off the rack and dusted it off before being called out to from the top of the stairs. "My lord!" Chester poked his head in. "Are you down here?"

"What is it, Chester?"

"Uhm, you have a visitor, my lord. He is persistent in meeting with you, says it is to discuss business."

Erik was slow to move, suspicious of who it could be to have claimed such a thing. After a few moments, he went back up to the hallway where he saw a stranger wearing a brown coat and standing in the foyer.

Erik approached the man, handing off the bottle of wine to Chester. "Wash this and pop it open."

"Yes, my... Henry."

The stranger eyed the wine curiously. "Lil early to be drinkin, aye?" He spoke with a rough voice and a thick accent.

"Perhaps. Who are you?" Erik asked the stranger.

"Jaxck Zendrif's the name, and who might you be?" The stranger, the man named Jaxck, carried himself with what could only be described as arrogance, dressing in a manner fit for a thug and disrespectfully walking around as he spoke, rather than facing Erik in conversation.

"Henry Codux."

"You are the new owner of this here entire street? All the property, that is."

"I am."

"You look awfully young. How old might you be?"

Quickly, Erik grew tired of the man's questions and brushed them off with one of his own. "Are you here to collect payment?"

The man halted in his tracks, having made his way over to the stairs, halfway across the foyer. He grinned amusingly, hitting the handrail post with the palm of his hand. It creaked and leaned, like a loose tooth, with little strength. "You know... You should really get this fixed." He said in a distracting and almost sarcastic manner.

"I already was."

The man chuckled. "Well, since you seem to already understand how this works, I am curious as to why I am yet to have any coin in my hands.

"I have only been told rumors of your men, so I want to hear, straight from you, what exactly it is that you want and so on."

"Oh! I understand. In that case, Mister Codux. I will explain it to you." He walked over to Erik. "You will pay me a sum of coin, fifty silver, every week, in exchange for protection. Failure to meet said payment on time, will result in, mmm... Perhaps a bruised rib or two, a broken bone, perhaps. We could also rough up some of your property, which shouldn't be too hard since I've heard you plan on opening shops here. Would be a real shame if they found sudden difficulty."

A threatening tone and demeanor would make other, much more cowardly men, feel their legs shake, but such threats did nothing to shake Erik. Calmly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold coin. He bounced it in his hand lightly, as if toying with it.

"Will this do?" He asked.

"Marvels." Jaxck responded with raised eyebrows, eagerly reaching out, but as he was about to take it from Erik's hand, Erik pulled back, the coin clutched tightly in his grip before he tossed it out the open door. In the hallway, two of the women who were hired to clean, who were watching the encounter in silence, gasped at what he'd done.

"Fetch, like the dog you are." Erik taunted him. "Know, that if you do, I own you. If you instead decide to bite the hand that feeds you, I will have no choice."

Jaxck began to laugh, to cackle with his hand on his face. "How dare you, boy. You must be stupid. A pretty lil face like yours, all clean and spotless, clearly, you were a sheltered young lad. Don't know what it's like in the real world. Let me make this very clear, my boss- the, Mister Nickelson, controls the entirety of this side of the city. He's a man who you do not want to make mad, and let me tell you, disrespect him, and you will make him mad."

"You are the ignorant one, a petty thug in a small town, in a large city, in a larger world. Outside the little territory your boss controls, there are those like me; wolves, to a lone dog. Now go fetch your coin and hand it off to your boss. When you do, tell him if he wants to negotiate, you know where to find me."

The women behind the corner gasped silently in excitement, eagerly waiting for a conflict between the two men to finally reach a climax, but it never came. The speechless Jaxck was infuriated, but his expression remained frozen stiff. Finally, he breathed out, a faint chuckle quietly escaping his lips. The corners of his lips raised, as if humored by the young man's audacity.

He turned to leave, heading toward the door but not stepping through without leaving one final sentence. "Wolves, to a lone dog. Wolves travel in packs, and so far, I am to the understanding that you are the one who is alone."

With that, the man stepped out, down the stairs, and onto the streets where he picked up the coin and then went about his way. Erik turned to the women who both jumped lightly in shock.

"You may continue to dust, ladies."