Dreamer's Throne

“Bar soap for sale! Just one copper, and you can feel like royalty!”

Standing in front of a small stand along the edge of one of the markets near the Dreamer’s inn, a young woman dressed in rough clothing called out, causing some of the nearby passersby to look over. Wandering over, a ruddy faced house wife squinted at the small bars before shaking her head.

“That’s all you get for a copper? What, are you trying to rip us off? We can get four times as much liquid soap from Henry on the corner.”

“But his soap won’t improve your skin,” the young woman said, her smile never slipping.

“What do you mean, improve my skin?”

“This soap is made in the same factory as the royal soap. It’s mixed with herbs that are guaranteed to make your skin silky smooth as you use it.”

A hint of interest appeared in the house wife’s eyes, but before she could say anything, another woman arrived and scoffed at the size of the bars.

“Just that tiny little thing? You’re mad if you think anyone will buy that.”

Across the street, in between two stalls that had been set up to sell pottery and fruit, Garrett and Ryn watched the crowd gathering. As more and more people stopped, attracted by the spectacle, Garrett’s expression cooled slightly. Almost everyone who stopped had a complaint, both about the size of the bars and the cost. To her credit, the young woman who was selling the soap never lost her cool as she was bombarded by the crowd. Still, it was clear that the general feeling was dismissive of the new product.

“Do we need to have the crowd cleared?” Garrett asked quietly.

“No, this is exactly what I was hoping for,” Ryn replied, her voice full of confidence.

“What do you mean?”

“Carraway was saying about creating demand and, umm, the perception of exclusivity. That means how hard it is to get something.”

“I’m familiar with what the word means.”

“Ah, yeah, of course. Right, so he said we needed to create this perception of exclusivity to make the soap count as a luxury product, right?” Ryn said, brushing her hair behind her ear and shooting a glance up the street. “But I figure, to do that, we have to make a big scene first. We get all the people riled up, and then… well, just watch.”

Realizing that this was a scenario Ryn had come up with, Garrett shot a quick look at her and then returned his attention to the crowd, curious to see how this would play out. Ryn’s perspective on the world was tremendously different from his, and she was constantly revealing new sides to herself, so what would follow was of great interest to him. He didn’t need to wait long as a heavy built man carrying a box on his back strode down the street and began pushing his way through the crowd.

Recognizing one of the gang members, Garrett’s eyebrows rose, and he couldn’t help but shoot another glance at Ryn. It was only a month ago that the gang members wouldn’t have spared Ryn a single look, so to see one of them acting out her wishes was a surprise and spoke to the young woman’s deftness with relationships. Pushing the last few people out of the way, the gang member dropped the box to the ground, causing the crowd to go quiet. Sweeping the crowd with a quick gaze, the gang member ignored them and turned to the smiling young woman.

“Do you still have any bars? We’re sold out over in the north market and there are still people clamoring for more.”

“I might have a few I can spare.”

“Good. They’re buying these things like hotcakes.”

As she started to take a stack of bars from behind her small table, the young woman was interrupted by another muscular man who pushed his way through the crowd from the other side.

“Hey, do you have any extra stock? We need more down by the docks. I’ll take as much as you have.”

Seeing both of the men coming to take the soap away, the young woman’s expression finally changed and she looked between them helplessly.

“I can share a little bit with one of you, but I won’t have any stock for this area if I give it to you.”

“Forget them,” one of the gang members sneered, staring at the crowd. “They aren’t going to buy any bars anyway. Everyone knows this is the cheapest neighborhood in the city. I’m telling you, if I took your entire stock back up to the north market, they would all be gone within the hour.”

“Hey, hold on. Don’t forget about me. Just split your stock in half and give it to us. The boss won’t care as long as it’s all sold.”

“What do you mean we’re the cheapest?”

Looking at the man in the crowd who spoke, the gang member’s sneer deepened and he gestured to the bars of soap still sitting on the table.

“Well, clearly you’re not only cheap but also blind. This is the same stuff that’s used in all the nobles’ houses, and yet you’re probably complaining about how expensive it is. Hah! You can’t buy this type of soap for less than a full silver anywhere else in the city, but you’re calling it too expensive. What a bunch of idiots.”

“Stop wasting time,” the other gang member interrupted, trying to take the stack of bars from the young woman selling them.

“Miss, I’ll buy one.”

It was the ruddy faced housewife who spoke up, a glimmering copper appearing in between her fingers. Placing it onto the table with a thunk, she grabbed one of the bars, holding it tightly in her hand as if afraid the thickly built gang member would try to take it away from her. Lifting it to her nose, she took a small sniff and froze, clearly intoxicated.

“Wow, that smells so good.”

Behind her, the crowd’s mood had shifted and a few more people stepped forward to put their copper down. Once the dam broke, people came forward like a flood and would have completely overwhelmed the young saleswoman if not for the two men who had come to take her product. With clear anger on their faces, they bellowed and threatened, forcing the crowd into a rough line. Watching the dwindling supply, their faces grew darker and darker. Yet the angrier they became, the more soap was sold as the crowd took delight in irritating them. Within twenty minutes, the soap was gone and the young lady bowed apologetically to the remaining people.

“I’m very sorry, but I’m out of stock today. I’ll be back tomorrow morning with another batch.”

Muttering complaints, the crowd slowly dispersed and the young woman packed up her table. As for the two gang members, they both picked up their boxes and hurried off, trying to find another location where the soap wasn’t yet sold out. A few enterprising members of the crowd followed them to see if they could try their luck at the next spot.

“That was impressive,” Garrett said, looking up at Ryn.

A wide smile stretched across her face as she took hold of his wheelchair and began to push him back toward the inn.

“How did you come up with that strategy?”

“I grew up in this part of the city. Most people’s communities are based around their neighborhoods, so I just figured that if I could poke at that sense of community, I could ensure that people would buy. That, along with some talented acting to create that scarcity I was talking about, combine to make a sense of exclusiveness. Honestly, it’s a fairly standard con, but one that works every time.”

“Exclusivity.”

“Right, exclusivity.”

“How many of the people in the crowd were plants?” Garrett asked, causing Ryn’s smile to grow.

“Six. Can you guess which ones?”

“Certainly the young lady,” Garrett said, counting on his fingers, “and the two gang members. I recognized them. Then I would guess it was the man who protested and then got insulted. As for the fifth, was it the woman who first bought the soap? Wait, who was the sixth?”

Letting out a small cackle, Ryn pushed his wheelchair around a bunch of apples that had spilled from a burlap bag at a nearby stall.

“The person who bought the second bar of soap after the housewife made her move. They were there to push the momentum of the crowd.”

“Wait, you mean the entire thing was a scam?”

“Can you call it a scam if they got what they paid for? It’s not like we were cheating them out of their money. It was just a, umm, demonstration.”

“And the shortage?” Garrett asked. “Was that made up too?”

“No. I mean, well, the first one was. But this scene has been happening all over. We sent out a dozen sellers and they’ve all been selling out.”

“That way, when the people here who didn’t get soap ask around they’ll realize that it is in short supply, right?”

“Exactly,” Ryn nodded, quite pleased with herself.

Pushing Garrett’s chair into the inn, Ryn stopped when she saw that the great room was largely filled with strangers. Many of them were dressed in heavy leather armor and carried their weapons in plain sight, marking them out as adventurers. Realizing they were here to apply for the recruitment order, Garrett asked Ryn to take him over to the bar where Henrick and Gorn were sitting. As they wove their way between the tables, they got a lot of attention from the gathered adventurers, but Garrett paid it no mind.

“Where were you?” Henrick asked, giving Garrett an annoyed look.

“Double-checking to make sure sales were going smoothly,” Garrett replied calmly. “I’m happy to say that it looks like everything worked like a dream. Ryn did a really good job setting everything up.”

Surprised that Garrett had given her credit, Henrick looked at the young woman and nodded.

“Glad to hear that. As you can see, we’ve got another challenge. It looks like everyone and their brother wants to take this job. We can’t afford everyone, so you’ll need to pick which team you want to hire.”

Standing up, Henrick looked around at the adventurers, a faint sense of disdain in his gaze. Though he hid it well, Garrett could tell the gang leader didn’t like them. Nodding at Garrett, Henrick left, walking back toward his office, leaving Gorn, Garrett, and Ryn staring after him. Putting his cup down on the bar harder than necessary, Gorn sneered at Henrick’s back.

“Dodging responsibility again. Hmph. It should be Henrick’s job to handle this, but he just dumps it and leaves.”

“Is there anything I need to be aware of before I begin interviewing the teams?” Garrett asked, watching Gorn carefully.

Ever since he’d been separated from the Dream Flower, Gorn’s personality had begun to shift, growing more irritable and aggressive. Clicking his tongue, Gorn shook his head and pointed to a small square table that had been set up.

“Not really. I set up a table for you. You can call people over there.”

“Thank you for your help, Gorn. You really do a good job of taking care of the details. That’s a large part of why this gang runs so smoothly. Would you be able to do me one more favor? Could you let everyone know to line up there once I’m set up?”

Trying to hide the smile that tugged at the corner of his lips, Gorn nodded.

“Sure.”

With Ryn’s help, Garrett quickly got set up at the table so he could start evaluating the adventuring groups that had come to apply for the job, and Gorn told everyone to line up. The scraping of chairs on the wooden floor filled the great room as the representatives for each group stood up to form a line. Most adventurers operated in small teams that served to increase their survivability by covering different specialties, but there were a few who didn’t yet have a team or had lost their team for various reasons.

The first person to step up to talk to Garrett was an older man whose single eye glared with a fierce light. A wicked scar running across his empty socket and continuing down the side of his face spoke to the danger of the work he engaged in. Fixing his intense stare on Garrett, his lips twisted.

“Oi, where is your boss, boy?”

“Pardon me, sir, but I will be the one doing the evaluation,” Garrett said calmly. “What group do you represent?”

“You think that a wet-behind-the-ears whelp like you can evaluate us?”

“Sir, if you’re here to apply for the job advertised, please state your name and group, otherwise I’ll have to ask you to stop blocking the line.”

Shocked by the resigned tone Garrett used, the crowd of adventurers went silent for a moment before erupting in laughter.

“Whoa, listen to him, telling old One-Eyed Erik off like that.”

“He’s got some guts, that’s for sure.”

“Look, he didn’t even blink.”

Listening to the comments from the line behind him, Erik’s one eye narrowed and a deadly air started to gather around him. Realizing that things were about to get out of hand, Gorn stepped forward to stand next to Garrett, his arms crossed menacingly across his chest.

“Sir, I don’t want to make a report to the guild, but if you persist in this behavior, I will.”

Adventurers were a rough lot who lived lives filled with brutal violence, and physical threats were next to completely ineffective on them. The one thing they feared, however, was the guild they worked for. While it wasn’t impossible to work outside the guild, adventurers who lost their guild membership were considered to have fallen to the very bottom of society. Taking a deep breath to reign in his anger, Erik gave Garrett a hard look and spoke gruffly.

“One-Eyed Erik. Representing the Farsight team. We have five members and focus on hunting, tracking, and trapping.”

Making a note on his paper, Garrett nodded as the old adventurer gave him a rundown of his team. When Erik was done, Garrett asked a question without looking up.

“Are the terms of the agreement acceptable to you?”

A sense of hesitation came over the one-eyed adventurer, as if he didn’t know how to answer Garrett’s question. After a moment, he shook his head.

“No. We want the nest stone,” Erik said, the pressure he was putting on Garrett swelling.

To his shock, Garrett remained completely placid, simply nodding as he continued to write.

“I’ll note that. Thank you, you may return to your seat. We’ll be posting our decision tonight around five pm. Next.”

Heading to his seat, Erik couldn’t help but glance back at Garrett, his curiosity evident. Most mortals would have come close to fainting under the pressure an Awakened could generate, but Garrett hadn’t even twitched. Still writing, Garrett missed the look the adventurer sent his way, but even if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have cared. Hearing Ryn hiss quietly as the next person stepped up to the table, he looked up and saw a familiar face.

“Hey, look, it’s the cripple.”

Standing in front of his table was Kolz, the adventurer who’d broken his wheelchair in the market, and the female adventurer who’d instigated him.