<<Back to Paracosm Page
The Central Empire Story 1
This story takes place around 800-1000YDY. The Proto-Industrial Revolution had already occurred and the Central Empire was rather stable, especially in the area in which this story takes place: Reineas, to the west of the capital, Yardsvillage. To the far east, barbarians roamed the Loni deserts deprived of the trade they once had with the Central Empire. The Empire, having expanded through the OrFantaneGat Mountains, came in direct contact with the settled Lonites of the far east. They quickly began trade and eliminated their barbarian middlemen. To the north, the feudal society of the Sekuuns had reached its height. It would not be too long before Yardsvillage started to trade nominally with these people.
“You have two days left in Volunteer Government1 before you become a Guilder,” said my father over breakfast. “Take it easy. You have your Sleeve2. Don’t try too hard.”
“Yes, father,” I replied. I was ecstatic that I would finally be joining the ranks of the Craftguild. However, I still had two painful days left of Volunteer Government. As a teenager, it was expected of you to do something useful if you were not occupied with a paid job. Many teenagers did the work of the state. It was better than paying the high taxes that would surely come if no one lent their hands to the government. I personally had a job in one of the subsidiaries of the Trade-Concill, the Trade-Censory-Underconcill. My job entailed the inspection of records of trade to make sure transactions were carried out legally and properly. This was predominately quite boring work; I had spent many hours behind a desk looking through account ledgers and records. However, things did get interesting when an error or discrepancy was detected. Then, a paid Trade-Censor would come with a group of people from the Trade-Investigations-Underconcill, and there would be an exciting capture and punishment of the offending Merchant, Guilder, or Government Official. I was preparing for a new stage of my life as a Guilder, though, and most definitely not in need of excitement in the next two days.
I left my house in the suburbs of Reineas for Trade-Concill Reineas Offices in the center of the city ready for a boring day, my father and mother going to the north part of the city to the Craftguild Workhouses for their workday. My older brother, Aroizde, accompanied me for the first part of the journey as his work was at the Craftguild Offices, near the center of the city.
“Father wants you to work with mother and him. We have an open position at my office, though, as well. What do you want to do, Taqiff?” asked my brother after some moments of silent walking.
“I think I want to go to the Workhouse. I have been cooped up so long with my Volunteer position, just sitting and reading books all day, know it?” I said assuredly. “I can’t wait until I can work with my hands. That is a real honor.”
“Are you saying that my work is useless, little brother? I work with my hands too, you know,” my brother haughtily remarked.
“Yes, yes. But ever since my apprenticeship, I have wanted more than anything to be a Guilder in a Workhouse. It’s not you personally, you still have the Sleeve, but I just want to be among the bustle of real Guilders.” I, knowing I had insulted my brother, chuckled slightly. We had reached my brother’s office and stopped in front of it.
“Oh, you sure are lucky that this is the complex where I work. If it wasn’t, you’d be sorry for your mouth!” my brother stormed off to his work, nearly crashing into a woman with a stack of boundeds.
I chuckled some more at the thought of my brother cooped up in his office, wasting his life away while I would be traveling the world, maybe even going to Yardsvillage3 or possibly even New Trada-town. I started to the Trade-Concill offices with vigor, full of visions of work and travel as a Guilder.
After a little more walking, I turned the final corner of my route and made for the entrance to the office. The guard was sleeping, as usual, and I woke him with a tap on the shoulder. He started with a yell and looked at me with a tired but a disgruntled expression on his countenance. I quickly showed him my pass, and he grudgingly let me pass, muttering curses under his breath. I chuckled as I went to the Censory-Underconcill. I entered the records room and saw my stack of records to examine. It was quite short; the Assistant Underconcillor had given me an easy job as he knew I had gotten my Sleeve and was leaving soon.
I took my work and sat down at a desk in the workroom. The good desks near the windows had already been taken, and I had chosen a desk near the middle. I looked about for a minute and decided to get right to work. Hopefully I would be able to get finished early and go to my parents’ workhouse for introductions to my new coworkers. I opened the first record and began to scan them and writing a record of their validity. Someone sat down next to me and I looked up. It was my friend, Runoaa.
“I heard about you getting your Sleeve,” she said. “Are you leaving soon?”
“Yes,” I proudly replied, “I will soon be employed in my parents’ workhouse.”
“Really? I thought for sure you would want to work in a cramped office like your brother,” she gibed.
“Ah!” I yelled, “You make me so angry sometimes! If you knew me at all…”
“Shh!” she said through bursts of laughter. “Everyone is looking at you!”
I quieted down and got to work. The first record was of a transaction from a merchant to a workhouse of lumber. The record I had was that of the paying workhouse; I wrote the expense down under the paid column. The next step was to get the merchant’s record and see how much the merchant had written down in income from the transaction. If the amounts matched, then the transaction was legal. If the amounts were in conflict, then someone was putting money into their pocket or getting underpaid. I went to the records room and searched through the new arrivals until I found the latest bounded4 from the particular merchant I was researching. The amount he put down as his income was the same as the expense recorded in the bounded of the workhouse. The transaction was legal. This complicated process which involved the government was reserved to transactions that were over a thousand darin5. Transactions of this amount of money would be enough to hurt the economy if it was not watched, so they were checked6 by the Trade-Censory-Underconcill.
The work was this way all morning. I went back and forth from the records room to the Trade-Censory room multiple times with records. Everything was in order, and there were no incidents. Runoaa’s work went the same way as I found out when I went to lunch with her at a nearby chophouse. The chophouse didn’t serve anything cooked until the evening meal7, but they did have some food available in the middle of the day. The kitchen was halfway underground and we had to walk up a short flight of stairs to get to the open air eating section. I struck the attendance lever.
“What’ll ya’ have?” someone yelled up from the kitchen.
“I’ll take an apple and half a loaf,” I shouted.
“Give me the same!” called Runoaa from behind me.
“Right,” said the person below us.
An apprentice came up and gave us our food and a pitcher of water. Runoaa and I, hungry from our morning of work, rapidly started eating.
“Don’t you wish they had hot food for lunch?” I asked Runoaa with a disappointed sigh.
“No. Then I wouldn’t have an appetite for supper,” she said. “What a glutton you are.”
“Wow. That certainly isn’t true. Look who has finished half their apple,” I reproachfully replied.
“Well your loaf seems to have disappeared to somewhere. Where’s it gone?” she looked under the table. “It isn’t under here. Where could it be?”
“You must’ve eaten it and not even noticed it. What a glutton you are,” I said righteously, “how could one person eat that much food for lunch? They must have no appetite for supper.”
“You’re so mean,” she sighed. “Hostility is certainly one of the traits of a true glutton.”
“Hostility? Hostility yourself,” I said and proceeded to chuckle.
Once we finished our food, Runoaa and I walked back to the Censory-Underconcill workroom. We began work again. The time passed slowly and painfully.
Finally I was down to only one transition to check. If I finished this transaction quickly, I would be able to visit my parents’ workhouse before I had to go home for the evening. The transaction was from a workhouse to a merchant for some iron ore. When I went to check the merchant’s record, the amount in income was larger than the expense paid by the workhouse. I went to go mention the issue to the confusing issue to the Assistant Underconcillor. The situation did not seem like a normal crime. On most occasions, the payer’s recorded expense was larger than the receiver’s income. This was indication of the receiver pocketing some of the money he had gotten in payment. The situation I had stumbled upon was the opposite. Why would the receiver record a larger income? It could only mean that the merchant would be taxed8 more because of the larger amount written in the record.
I now entered the office of the Assistant Underconcillors. I went to my Underconcillor and told him of the issue.
“Is that so?” he replied. “How unfortunate for such an incident to occur just two days before you leave us and go on to being a Guilder. I specifically gave you a smaller amount of work so you could take it easy.”
“Yes. Thank you for that. But what of this discrepancy?” I asked.
“We should start an Investigation,” the Assistant Underconcillor said. He promptly sent a messenger to the Trade-Investigations-Underconcill. While we waited for a reply, I went back to the workroom. Runoaa grinned when she saw me.
“Where did you run off to? You looked murderous. I hope you didn’t hurt anybody,” she said.
“A discrepancy was found in the last of my transactions. I will have to go and help with the investigation most likely,” I replied mournfully, “When I get back, I’ll have to go straight home. I won’t get any free time. Investigations take hours.”
“Ha. Right as you trying to take it easy and go home early. You were going to be able to leave before me. What terrible, terrible luck,” she said with a smirk.
“Well you don’t sound very broken up over it. One could even say you were happy with the fact that I have to do extra work before I finally leave this place. I think you…” I was stopped midsentence with my finger in the air by the Trade-Censor:
“Stop flirting with the girl and come on; I want to get home early too.” The Trade-Censor was a gruff man who had soft spot for the teenage girls in his employ. “Was he bothering you? I’ll transfer you to my office if you wish.”
Runoaa started to say no, but the Trade-Censor was on to other things. He started out of the room and yelled for me to come along. I grabbed the bounded with the discrepancy, gave a shrug and wave to Runoaa, and went out of the room after the Trade-Censor. I tripped on a bounded on the floor on my way out. In my hurry, I didn’t think anything of it, and I rushed out of the room leaving Runoaa laughing at my clumsiness. I emerged from the building and saw a waiting Trade-Investigations regiment9. These soldiers were in effect off-duty Emergency Army Service. Their red and blue uniforms, which matched the colors of my government robes, showed that they were not normal law-enforcement officers, but soldiers of the Trade-Investigations-Underconcill.
I handed the Trade-Censor the bounded with the discrepancy. He looked it over, and agreed with me that was very strange. He told me to go to the two establishments and ask around to try to get information with the regiment. He would go to the Official Trade Records Room in the Trade-Concill and look for similar cases. He walked off and left me to the regiment.
“We’re headed to the Metalwork Guild’s workhouse located in the south part of the city,” I said succinctly. “Let’s go.”
“Yes sir10,” they replied.
We set off at a light jog southward. After about a half of an hour, we reached the workhouse. I went into the workhouse and went to the foreman’s office.
“Good afternoon. How may I help you?” said the foreman.
“Did you recently purchase a large amount of iron ore from a merchant?” I asked.
“Yes. Why do you ask?” he replied with a frown on his face.
“There is a discrepancy between the expense you paid and what the merchant recorded as his income,” I showed the foreman the boundeds.
“These figures make no sense. Why would he record more money spent?” the aghast foreman asked.
“We don’t know,” I replied tiredly. I gathered the regiment. “We’re headed now to the Tradesmen League, the League the merchant belongs to. We’ll find him at their offices in the east part of the city. Let’s go.”
We jogged for another half hour. By the time we reached the Tradesmen League offices, I was out of breath and unhappy with the situation. I thought of the possible hours of jogging all across the city that might ensue if the issue remained unsolved. I was really unlucky. To have to go the Tradesmen League, of all places was a sure sign of my bad luck. My family despised the Tradesmen League, and wished them ill will11. I was wary of the Tradesmen and took off the Sleeve so as not to be detected as a Craftguilder. I went to the Administration Office and asked the attendant about the merchant cited in the bounded.
“He’ll be back shortly. I suppose you’ll just have to wait,” the attendant said perfunctorily. I nearly burst out with curses at the impertinent words the attendant said. She did not seem very much older than me. I forced myself to speak nicely.
“I’ll just wait, then,” I gave an awkward chuckle and let all my anger out on the chair which protested when I forcefully sat down. The attendant looked at me oddly and went back to her work.
After an hour of waiting, the merchant had still not come back. The soldiers I had brought with me played stakepicks12. Another quarter hour went by and I had joined in. Even more time passed and the sun began to set. I went and talked to the attendant.
“Where could the merchant be?” I asked her.
“I don’t know. He could’ve gone home already. He could just submit his records tomorrow…” she replied.
I groaned in frustration. “You could’ve told me that he was going to go home without coming here!”
“Well, I didn’t know for sure. Don’t make a scene about it,” she said with a slight air of indifference.
“Oh, this has been a worthless day!” I shouted. I had no right to go the merchant’s house, so the outing to the Tradesmen League had been worthless. Not thinking, I began to put on the Sleeve before I made it out of the building.
“You’re from the Craftguild? I should’ve known; you are so dimwitted and excitable, after all,” the attendant remarked with a sneer.
“Oh be quiet! The only reason I’m here now as opposed to being a Craftguilder is because of you Tradesmen, making me wait here for hours on end!” I cried.
“What? Go die in a hole somewhere, Craftguilder!” she yelled. “Go away!”
“That’s right. I will go away!” I was thoroughly angry at the attendant. I called the soldiers and we jogged out of the complex amidst faint curses from the attendant.
After more jogging, we arrived back at the Trade-Censory-Underconcill office. I dismissed the regiment and went inside. The Trade-Censor greeted me.
“There you are. I was beginning to think that you weren’t coming back,” he chuckled.
“I have had quite the time. The merchant was nowhere to be…” I said apologetically.
“No worries. The foreman came by not long ago and said that he had mistakenly recorded the expense,” assured the Trade-Censor. He seemed in high spirits. “The foreman even treated me to an early supper.” That was why.
“Mistakenly recorded the expense,” I lamented slowly. I put my head in my hands and collapsed into a nearby chair.
With nobody left in the workroom and the offices, I gathered my things and walked home. By the time I got there, my parents and brother had already eaten and were out somewhere. They had left me some nakka and mash13. After supper, I discovered I was quite tired and almost immediately fell asleep.
The next morning, I woke up feeling quite refreshed despite all the events of yesterday. At breakfast, my mother told me that they had been out the previous evening finding a new tunic for me to wear as a guilder.
“I’ll try it on when I get home after Volunteer Government,” I said decidedly. I rushed through breakfast.
“What’s your hurry, son?” asked my father.
“I suppose he’s just eager for his last Volunteer Government day,” my brother said sleepily, walking down the stairs, “I know I was. He’ll probably be out the door by the time I get dressed.”
I was out the door before my brother got dressed, and I hurried to the Trade-Censory-Underconcill Office. My stack of boundeds was even smaller today; I would finish around lunchtime. I was so early that I sat happily in a window seat. Runoaa soon came as well.
“Look who’s here early,” she said. “It’s really your last day.”
“Will I ever see you again?” I made a good effort at fake tearing up.
“You’d make a terrible actor,” she laughed.
I worked quickly through the records without incident. The Assistant Underconcillor called me into his office not long after I finished.
“Well, it’s your last day here,” he said with a smile, “you were a good worker.”
“Thanks. I tried, but I know you’re just saying that,” I replied.
“No, you were really alright. If the Craftguild doesn’t work out for you, then perhaps you can keep wearing that uniform. There is another Trade-Censor position open.”
“No, no. I’d rather work in the Craftguild,” I said, “but thanks for the offer.” I walked back to the workroom to gather my things. Runoaa looked at me in question.
“You won’t go to lunch with me on your last day? I was even going to pay for you,” she asked.
“I’ve got to go. I have to go meet my coworkers,” I said. “Your parents are Craftguilders, too. Perhaps we’ll work together in the future.”
“It’ll be at least a year before I get out of here, though,” she said forlornly. “Come visit me sometime?”
“Yes, yes I will,” I assured her. I walked out of the room.
“Good luck!” she called.
The Central Empire Story 1
This story takes place around 800-1000YDY. The Proto-Industrial Revolution had already occurred and the Central Empire was rather stable, especially in the area in which this story takes place: Reineas, to the west of the capital, Yardsvillage. To the far east, barbarians roamed the Loni deserts deprived of the trade they once had with the Central Empire. The Empire, having expanded through the OrFantaneGat Mountains, came in direct contact with the settled Lonites of the far east. They quickly began trade and eliminated their barbarian middlemen. To the north, the feudal society of the Sekuuns had reached its height. It would not be too long before Yardsvillage started to trade nominally with these people.
“You have two days left in Volunteer Government1 before you become a Guilder,” said my father over breakfast. “Take it easy. You have your Sleeve2. Don’t try too hard.”
“Yes, father,” I replied. I was ecstatic that I would finally be joining the ranks of the Craftguild. However, I still had two painful days left of Volunteer Government. As a teenager, it was expected of you to do something useful if you were not occupied with a paid job. Many teenagers did the work of the state. It was better than paying the high taxes that would surely come if no one lent their hands to the government. I personally had a job in one of the subsidiaries of the Trade-Concill, the Trade-Censory-Underconcill. My job entailed the inspection of records of trade to make sure transactions were carried out legally and properly. This was predominately quite boring work; I had spent many hours behind a desk looking through account ledgers and records. However, things did get interesting when an error or discrepancy was detected. Then, a paid Trade-Censor would come with a group of people from the Trade-Investigations-Underconcill, and there would be an exciting capture and punishment of the offending Merchant, Guilder, or Government Official. I was preparing for a new stage of my life as a Guilder, though, and most definitely not in need of excitement in the next two days.
I left my house in the suburbs of Reineas for Trade-Concill Reineas Offices in the center of the city ready for a boring day, my father and mother going to the north part of the city to the Craftguild Workhouses for their workday. My older brother, Aroizde, accompanied me for the first part of the journey as his work was at the Craftguild Offices, near the center of the city.
“Father wants you to work with mother and him. We have an open position at my office, though, as well. What do you want to do, Taqiff?” asked my brother after some moments of silent walking.
“I think I want to go to the Workhouse. I have been cooped up so long with my Volunteer position, just sitting and reading books all day, know it?” I said assuredly. “I can’t wait until I can work with my hands. That is a real honor.”
“Are you saying that my work is useless, little brother? I work with my hands too, you know,” my brother haughtily remarked.
“Yes, yes. But ever since my apprenticeship, I have wanted more than anything to be a Guilder in a Workhouse. It’s not you personally, you still have the Sleeve, but I just want to be among the bustle of real Guilders.” I, knowing I had insulted my brother, chuckled slightly. We had reached my brother’s office and stopped in front of it.
“Oh, you sure are lucky that this is the complex where I work. If it wasn’t, you’d be sorry for your mouth!” my brother stormed off to his work, nearly crashing into a woman with a stack of boundeds.
I chuckled some more at the thought of my brother cooped up in his office, wasting his life away while I would be traveling the world, maybe even going to Yardsvillage3 or possibly even New Trada-town. I started to the Trade-Concill offices with vigor, full of visions of work and travel as a Guilder.
After a little more walking, I turned the final corner of my route and made for the entrance to the office. The guard was sleeping, as usual, and I woke him with a tap on the shoulder. He started with a yell and looked at me with a tired but a disgruntled expression on his countenance. I quickly showed him my pass, and he grudgingly let me pass, muttering curses under his breath. I chuckled as I went to the Censory-Underconcill. I entered the records room and saw my stack of records to examine. It was quite short; the Assistant Underconcillor had given me an easy job as he knew I had gotten my Sleeve and was leaving soon.
I took my work and sat down at a desk in the workroom. The good desks near the windows had already been taken, and I had chosen a desk near the middle. I looked about for a minute and decided to get right to work. Hopefully I would be able to get finished early and go to my parents’ workhouse for introductions to my new coworkers. I opened the first record and began to scan them and writing a record of their validity. Someone sat down next to me and I looked up. It was my friend, Runoaa.
“I heard about you getting your Sleeve,” she said. “Are you leaving soon?”
“Yes,” I proudly replied, “I will soon be employed in my parents’ workhouse.”
“Really? I thought for sure you would want to work in a cramped office like your brother,” she gibed.
“Ah!” I yelled, “You make me so angry sometimes! If you knew me at all…”
“Shh!” she said through bursts of laughter. “Everyone is looking at you!”
I quieted down and got to work. The first record was of a transaction from a merchant to a workhouse of lumber. The record I had was that of the paying workhouse; I wrote the expense down under the paid column. The next step was to get the merchant’s record and see how much the merchant had written down in income from the transaction. If the amounts matched, then the transaction was legal. If the amounts were in conflict, then someone was putting money into their pocket or getting underpaid. I went to the records room and searched through the new arrivals until I found the latest bounded4 from the particular merchant I was researching. The amount he put down as his income was the same as the expense recorded in the bounded of the workhouse. The transaction was legal. This complicated process which involved the government was reserved to transactions that were over a thousand darin5. Transactions of this amount of money would be enough to hurt the economy if it was not watched, so they were checked6 by the Trade-Censory-Underconcill.
The work was this way all morning. I went back and forth from the records room to the Trade-Censory room multiple times with records. Everything was in order, and there were no incidents. Runoaa’s work went the same way as I found out when I went to lunch with her at a nearby chophouse. The chophouse didn’t serve anything cooked until the evening meal7, but they did have some food available in the middle of the day. The kitchen was halfway underground and we had to walk up a short flight of stairs to get to the open air eating section. I struck the attendance lever.
“What’ll ya’ have?” someone yelled up from the kitchen.
“I’ll take an apple and half a loaf,” I shouted.
“Give me the same!” called Runoaa from behind me.
“Right,” said the person below us.
An apprentice came up and gave us our food and a pitcher of water. Runoaa and I, hungry from our morning of work, rapidly started eating.
“Don’t you wish they had hot food for lunch?” I asked Runoaa with a disappointed sigh.
“No. Then I wouldn’t have an appetite for supper,” she said. “What a glutton you are.”
“Wow. That certainly isn’t true. Look who has finished half their apple,” I reproachfully replied.
“Well your loaf seems to have disappeared to somewhere. Where’s it gone?” she looked under the table. “It isn’t under here. Where could it be?”
“You must’ve eaten it and not even noticed it. What a glutton you are,” I said righteously, “how could one person eat that much food for lunch? They must have no appetite for supper.”
“You’re so mean,” she sighed. “Hostility is certainly one of the traits of a true glutton.”
“Hostility? Hostility yourself,” I said and proceeded to chuckle.
Once we finished our food, Runoaa and I walked back to the Censory-Underconcill workroom. We began work again. The time passed slowly and painfully.
Finally I was down to only one transition to check. If I finished this transaction quickly, I would be able to visit my parents’ workhouse before I had to go home for the evening. The transaction was from a workhouse to a merchant for some iron ore. When I went to check the merchant’s record, the amount in income was larger than the expense paid by the workhouse. I went to go mention the issue to the confusing issue to the Assistant Underconcillor. The situation did not seem like a normal crime. On most occasions, the payer’s recorded expense was larger than the receiver’s income. This was indication of the receiver pocketing some of the money he had gotten in payment. The situation I had stumbled upon was the opposite. Why would the receiver record a larger income? It could only mean that the merchant would be taxed8 more because of the larger amount written in the record.
I now entered the office of the Assistant Underconcillors. I went to my Underconcillor and told him of the issue.
“Is that so?” he replied. “How unfortunate for such an incident to occur just two days before you leave us and go on to being a Guilder. I specifically gave you a smaller amount of work so you could take it easy.”
“Yes. Thank you for that. But what of this discrepancy?” I asked.
“We should start an Investigation,” the Assistant Underconcillor said. He promptly sent a messenger to the Trade-Investigations-Underconcill. While we waited for a reply, I went back to the workroom. Runoaa grinned when she saw me.
“Where did you run off to? You looked murderous. I hope you didn’t hurt anybody,” she said.
“A discrepancy was found in the last of my transactions. I will have to go and help with the investigation most likely,” I replied mournfully, “When I get back, I’ll have to go straight home. I won’t get any free time. Investigations take hours.”
“Ha. Right as you trying to take it easy and go home early. You were going to be able to leave before me. What terrible, terrible luck,” she said with a smirk.
“Well you don’t sound very broken up over it. One could even say you were happy with the fact that I have to do extra work before I finally leave this place. I think you…” I was stopped midsentence with my finger in the air by the Trade-Censor:
“Stop flirting with the girl and come on; I want to get home early too.” The Trade-Censor was a gruff man who had soft spot for the teenage girls in his employ. “Was he bothering you? I’ll transfer you to my office if you wish.”
Runoaa started to say no, but the Trade-Censor was on to other things. He started out of the room and yelled for me to come along. I grabbed the bounded with the discrepancy, gave a shrug and wave to Runoaa, and went out of the room after the Trade-Censor. I tripped on a bounded on the floor on my way out. In my hurry, I didn’t think anything of it, and I rushed out of the room leaving Runoaa laughing at my clumsiness. I emerged from the building and saw a waiting Trade-Investigations regiment9. These soldiers were in effect off-duty Emergency Army Service. Their red and blue uniforms, which matched the colors of my government robes, showed that they were not normal law-enforcement officers, but soldiers of the Trade-Investigations-Underconcill.
I handed the Trade-Censor the bounded with the discrepancy. He looked it over, and agreed with me that was very strange. He told me to go to the two establishments and ask around to try to get information with the regiment. He would go to the Official Trade Records Room in the Trade-Concill and look for similar cases. He walked off and left me to the regiment.
“We’re headed to the Metalwork Guild’s workhouse located in the south part of the city,” I said succinctly. “Let’s go.”
“Yes sir10,” they replied.
We set off at a light jog southward. After about a half of an hour, we reached the workhouse. I went into the workhouse and went to the foreman’s office.
“Good afternoon. How may I help you?” said the foreman.
“Did you recently purchase a large amount of iron ore from a merchant?” I asked.
“Yes. Why do you ask?” he replied with a frown on his face.
“There is a discrepancy between the expense you paid and what the merchant recorded as his income,” I showed the foreman the boundeds.
“These figures make no sense. Why would he record more money spent?” the aghast foreman asked.
“We don’t know,” I replied tiredly. I gathered the regiment. “We’re headed now to the Tradesmen League, the League the merchant belongs to. We’ll find him at their offices in the east part of the city. Let’s go.”
We jogged for another half hour. By the time we reached the Tradesmen League offices, I was out of breath and unhappy with the situation. I thought of the possible hours of jogging all across the city that might ensue if the issue remained unsolved. I was really unlucky. To have to go the Tradesmen League, of all places was a sure sign of my bad luck. My family despised the Tradesmen League, and wished them ill will11. I was wary of the Tradesmen and took off the Sleeve so as not to be detected as a Craftguilder. I went to the Administration Office and asked the attendant about the merchant cited in the bounded.
“He’ll be back shortly. I suppose you’ll just have to wait,” the attendant said perfunctorily. I nearly burst out with curses at the impertinent words the attendant said. She did not seem very much older than me. I forced myself to speak nicely.
“I’ll just wait, then,” I gave an awkward chuckle and let all my anger out on the chair which protested when I forcefully sat down. The attendant looked at me oddly and went back to her work.
After an hour of waiting, the merchant had still not come back. The soldiers I had brought with me played stakepicks12. Another quarter hour went by and I had joined in. Even more time passed and the sun began to set. I went and talked to the attendant.
“Where could the merchant be?” I asked her.
“I don’t know. He could’ve gone home already. He could just submit his records tomorrow…” she replied.
I groaned in frustration. “You could’ve told me that he was going to go home without coming here!”
“Well, I didn’t know for sure. Don’t make a scene about it,” she said with a slight air of indifference.
“Oh, this has been a worthless day!” I shouted. I had no right to go the merchant’s house, so the outing to the Tradesmen League had been worthless. Not thinking, I began to put on the Sleeve before I made it out of the building.
“You’re from the Craftguild? I should’ve known; you are so dimwitted and excitable, after all,” the attendant remarked with a sneer.
“Oh be quiet! The only reason I’m here now as opposed to being a Craftguilder is because of you Tradesmen, making me wait here for hours on end!” I cried.
“What? Go die in a hole somewhere, Craftguilder!” she yelled. “Go away!”
“That’s right. I will go away!” I was thoroughly angry at the attendant. I called the soldiers and we jogged out of the complex amidst faint curses from the attendant.
After more jogging, we arrived back at the Trade-Censory-Underconcill office. I dismissed the regiment and went inside. The Trade-Censor greeted me.
“There you are. I was beginning to think that you weren’t coming back,” he chuckled.
“I have had quite the time. The merchant was nowhere to be…” I said apologetically.
“No worries. The foreman came by not long ago and said that he had mistakenly recorded the expense,” assured the Trade-Censor. He seemed in high spirits. “The foreman even treated me to an early supper.” That was why.
“Mistakenly recorded the expense,” I lamented slowly. I put my head in my hands and collapsed into a nearby chair.
With nobody left in the workroom and the offices, I gathered my things and walked home. By the time I got there, my parents and brother had already eaten and were out somewhere. They had left me some nakka and mash13. After supper, I discovered I was quite tired and almost immediately fell asleep.
The next morning, I woke up feeling quite refreshed despite all the events of yesterday. At breakfast, my mother told me that they had been out the previous evening finding a new tunic for me to wear as a guilder.
“I’ll try it on when I get home after Volunteer Government,” I said decidedly. I rushed through breakfast.
“What’s your hurry, son?” asked my father.
“I suppose he’s just eager for his last Volunteer Government day,” my brother said sleepily, walking down the stairs, “I know I was. He’ll probably be out the door by the time I get dressed.”
I was out the door before my brother got dressed, and I hurried to the Trade-Censory-Underconcill Office. My stack of boundeds was even smaller today; I would finish around lunchtime. I was so early that I sat happily in a window seat. Runoaa soon came as well.
“Look who’s here early,” she said. “It’s really your last day.”
“Will I ever see you again?” I made a good effort at fake tearing up.
“You’d make a terrible actor,” she laughed.
I worked quickly through the records without incident. The Assistant Underconcillor called me into his office not long after I finished.
“Well, it’s your last day here,” he said with a smile, “you were a good worker.”
“Thanks. I tried, but I know you’re just saying that,” I replied.
“No, you were really alright. If the Craftguild doesn’t work out for you, then perhaps you can keep wearing that uniform. There is another Trade-Censor position open.”
“No, no. I’d rather work in the Craftguild,” I said, “but thanks for the offer.” I walked back to the workroom to gather my things. Runoaa looked at me in question.
“You won’t go to lunch with me on your last day? I was even going to pay for you,” she asked.
“I’ve got to go. I have to go meet my coworkers,” I said. “Your parents are Craftguilders, too. Perhaps we’ll work together in the future.”
“It’ll be at least a year before I get out of here, though,” she said forlornly. “Come visit me sometime?”
“Yes, yes I will,” I assured her. I walked out of the room.
“Good luck!” she called.
- 1. Volunteer Government positions were given to teenagers who were in gaps between their apprenticeships/ schooling and their work. They were not mandatory, but most teenagers worked in government from around 50YDY. The practice was only strengthened after the Hundred Years of Confusion.
- 2. Sleeves that covered the forearm were worn by Guilders as a mark of membership. The one mentioned is of a dark green color for the Craftguild.
- 3. The capital of the Central Empire.
- 4. Papers, usually of a legal or financial sort, bound together with string.
- 5. The currency of the Central Empire, and later Darfordsmoth, but not of Trada, the country that later occupied the area where this story takes place.
- 6. Transactions were only inspected when a lot of money was involved. Most expenses were recorded though, if only in company records.
- 7. Lunch was usually reserved to a small uncooked snack.
- 8. This actually refers to the portion of money taken from the merchant and given to his league or guild, not the portion given to the government. Leagues and guilds paid the government taxes as whole organizations as opposed to a fee from each member.
- 9. Don’t be alarmed. A “regiment” was only four soldiers. It was, though, a higher number in the Emergency Army Service.
- 10. These soldiers were of a very low rank, and had so little prestige that most people, even those in Volunteer Government, had authority over them. Higher-ranking soldiers were present in the Trade-Investigations-Underconcill, but mainly worked as administrators for the lower-ranking soldiers rarely going out in the field; they were only occasionally used for operations that required more than one group of soldiers.
- 11. Ever since the Heavycraft Guild was split into the Tradesmen League and the Craftguild around 145RT or -1007YDY, the groups have been fierce economic rivals. Their conflicts permeate society and the rivalry is still alive today, with the groups only grudgingly joining forces briefly in the 1400s YDY; several hundred years after this story takes place.
- 12. A game involving wooden stakes of different lengths and colors. It was rather popular around this time.
- 13. A traditional hot supper item of the time.