Erec strode through the Seventh Cavern decked out in his Armor, unfortunately not alone. In addition to his steward Lionel, three commoners chatted his ears off.
The Vallum model had already seen a lot of battle, but the passerby certainly couldn’t tell at a glance. His cloak trailed behind him, a deep green that stole eyes and drew them to the steel it laid over; it was a symbol of the surface, of those above to the people here.
But those escorting him through his cavern hummed with excitement and purpose. They’d seen their new Count, but once, they had a fair idea of who he might be. Now though, they’d get to see his first actual act…
Aside from those Lionel scheduled to talk with him, his mere presence led to attention. That included the one or two hangers-on that’d tried to catch the latest gossip—leading to even more people watching them walk.
It was all exhausting, and the topic of the day was infuriating.
Erec was here to correct an issue.
An issue that now, he was somewhat responsible for. Even if most of the blame for the current circumstance was before he’d taken leadership. The lack of regulation led to an unfavorable environment for his people.
The Seventh Cavern wasn’t exactly struggling. But it was a far cry from being prosperous, the reason for which came in two parts.
Part of the problem lay in the need for more direct focus in their production. For at least a hundred years, the people of the Seventh Cavern were free to pursue whatever business and manufacturing they wanted. At an initial glance, Erec thought that to be ideal. They’d be able to explore whatever they wanted, and the nobility would keep out of their affairs.
Yet, Lionel corrected that misconception. That actually meant that the nobility had done the bare minimum for the people here. They’d refuse to prop up or advance any particular industries, offer them subsidies, or buy debt to promote growth.All the tax and income generated by the people went into maintenance or the pocket of the ruling class; it’d never been reinvested in the people.
As a result, general sentiment towards the nobility was naturally ambivalent at best. Hostile at worst.
Over time, this still meant a lot of businesses formed, most small and unimpressive. Until outside forces noticed the ruling class's lack of care and took advantage. A wealthy merchant group began to cut deals with prominent merchants inside the Seventh Cavern and manipulated the flow of goods to artificially raise prices. This group systematically exploited and then wrung people for denarii.
Or so the situation’s picture formed for Erec as he took a stroll in his cavern, confirmed and explained by angry community leaders.
It was an economic problem. And a headache of one. Compouded by the current situation: the merchant ‘guild’ was now pressing to lock in exploitative prices for the next four years. They moved to seal this deal before Erec could react. If they had their way, a single apple would cost seven denarii. The fact they sought to take advantage of his ignorance pissed Erec off.
Not only was the nobility working against Erec in secret, but many sought to work around a Knight titled as a hero. Paranoia was becoming an unwelcome companion.
Erec thought over several ways to tackle the group as they walked. He could sanction the citizens of his cavern participating with the outside merchants or disbar those merchants from trading in this cavern.
Either act would ruin the current status quo and lead to even worse problems. It was like stepping around explosive glyphs; anything spewed out was trouble and impossible to predict.
Change was coming, though, however. No matter what he did. It was better to get ahead of it and start trying to make things easier for his people. That’s what a good leader would do.
So it was that he asked his escorts to bring him to a specific merchant’s home.
They arrived at a large manor, not near the size of his, but on the surface, it appeared more opulent. The lawn was decorated with fake tufts of green grass, adorned with steel statues of all things depicting noble Knights in their Armor. They dotted the excessive landscape that took a long winding path toward a five-story home.
From this distance, Erec could see a man leaning back on a wooden chair with a sword at his side near the doorway. A guard.
Erec took a look at his escort. “Thanks,” he shook his head as he made eye contact with the angry citizens. “I’ll handle this from here. I appreciate your time.”
There was some grumbling, but the citizens left without real issue. Leaving Erec alone with Lionel in front of the merchant’s home.
He started down the winding pathway, looking at the fake grass and statues. The ones near the front were generic but in heroic poses that people loved. It was odd, however, that the further he got away from the street, the more defects he noticed in the statues.
It didn’t take long to reach the bored man in leather armor in his chair.
The bulky guy got out of the chair as he approached. “S-stop right there,” his voice quivered as he took in Erec. “S-shit, is that real Armor?”
“Yep,” Erec glanced at a nearby statue. Something about it was off; bits of metal poking out, with rough skin and an ugly surface. Defects on the others were noticeable, but even the luster of it was lacking.
[He switched to aluminum statues further away from the street. Very classy.] VAL observed, which explained the odd imperfections in the statue garden. Few people would notice without a trained eye and this far from the main road.
Wonderful.
“D-do you have an appointment?” The guard asked, trying and failing to clear the nerves from his voice.
“Sure do,” Erec lied easily; it felt odd walking around through his own cavern in Armor and even to be in Armor without a weapon strapped to his back. But it was partially about the message he wanted to send.
Not that he needed an axe to do serious damage.
The man puffed up his lip and looked back at the building he’d been assigned to guard. In all honesty, it was obvious he was a thug hired as muscle and not someone particularly intimidating to begin with.
Well then, how could he compare to horrible atrocities in the waste?
This whole joke was only growing staler by the second. What sort of guy was operating with the merchant’s guild anyway?
“Uh. There are no appointments today. Boss woulda told me. Has his private time scheduled?” The thug ran a thumb over his nose and looked at Erec with wide eyes. He was still digesting that not only was a Knight at his door but also a Knight who unapologetically lied straight to his face. Though Erec suspected he still didn’t realize who this particular Knight was.
This was what he had to deal with instead of his Courtly Mannerisms class.
Yeah, that bullshit about which fork was right to pick up would’ve taught him anything about a situation like this.
“He has one now. Bring me to him, and—“ Erec sighed as the man tensed up. He expected a fight. Hell, part of Erec screamed to go ahead and start throwing fists to solve this problem.
But ultimately, unlike in the wasteland, tossing a stray fist right now wasn’t the solution to end this mess. It would only make things worse.
“…I’ll pay you two hundred denarii.” Erec resorted to a different blunt tactic.
Bribery.
The man slowly nodded his dimwitted head; they’d reached an accord. Without a second more of arguing, he pushed the door open and led Erec through the interior.
Inside was a mixture of knick-knacks and knock-offs. With such a cluster of objects and gold-looking things, one might understandably mistake the owner of this manor for a collector.
Upon closer examination, the antiques proved outdated and ugly designs and objects that people threw out as garbage, topped with fake gold and gems.
Everything inside the actual place held the same quality, and none of it stood upon an actual layer of reality.
For a man who’d corrupted himself and driven the rest of the people in the Seventh Cavern down to self-enrich for years, he wasn't well off.
It was a weird paradox that Erec couldn’t entirely resolve.
The man led him to a dining hall and tactfully retreated before anything could occur.
Lionel gave Erec a nod and slammed his foot into the cheap wooden doorway.
A shabby man leaned over his drab dinner, slurping soup that spilled all over his shirt at the sudden interruption in his meal. With flashy rings, he waved his hands wildly, eyes wide as he stared at the Knight bold enough to ruin his dinner. Damn near drowning in his own food while trying to erupt into a yell.
“Think we’re due for a talk,” Erec said as he walked over to the flabbergasted man. “A nice long conversation. I have a few points I was hoping you’d clear up.”
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