Newly Broke Heroine! [Book One Complete, Cozy Fantasy Adventure]

Karlin leaned back, hands behind his head, and examined Fiona thoughtfully, while he tapped a claw on one of his horns. The rhythmic sound almost resembled tapping a metal pipe. He wore a bemused smile the whole time. "You're smarter than you let on. Why the deception?"

"When picking rivals, the smart play is to play the fool. When picking friends? Well, that requires a whole other occasion," she suggested casually. His eyes flickered with interest.

"Hmm. Good point. I don't think I caught your name earlier." She pondered how well she was known outside Fiefdala, but Karlin had no clue, seemingly.

"Meridia." It was technically her middle name, and a truth of sorts, and very few people knew it, so it helped her sell the lie. "You?"

"Karlin Fierkraag. Acquisitions specialist." She supposed being a highway robber and a thief of joy wouldn't look as great on a business card. "Well now, what brings you to Vale anyway? and pestering people you don't know?"

"Karlin, I know people of influence when I see them. It's like magic," she teased. "Vale's dripping with opportunity. I came here from Fiefdala for opportunities to make a lot of money on a variety of moderate to high-end goods. But, bad blood being the definition of how Fiefdala and Vale have related to one another..." She sighed softly. "I heard Vale had a rich culture at one point. And there is a market for Fiefdala's processed and refined magical goods."

"Lots of opportunities. Fiefdala is the richest Kingdom, and they don't even know it. But it's under poor management. I have it on good authority that dimwit, the one without a beard, is trying to angle for a deal. But his negotiating is so amateur. Varith's taking him for a ride." Karlin made no effort to hide his disdain for Barry--which seemed to be a universal sentiment, so far.

That part was obvious. She veiled her reaction. "But Fiefdala does make excellent goods."

"And has richness beyond gold," Karlin said with a warm smile. "I've been angling to buy up that lakefront capital, keep that useful idiot on the throne, then just rake in the profits. Owning is so much easier than running something, ya know? But the lake still smells." He wrinkled his snout at that mention.

"Yeah, it kinda does. No one knows why. So why's Fiefdala rich in a different way?"

This was a game now, and Karlin played eagerly, with his smooth body motions and excitement. He leaned back in his seat and put his clawed feet up on the table, not caring for the lack of manners. The table creaked in protest at this. "Richness falls into two categories." He held up two clawed fingers for emphasis. "Actual worth, at present. The stuff you dig up from the ground, agriculture, industry, and so on. I focus on the potential value. And Fiefdala is as sky-high as it gets. No one believes me, of course. A few birdies tell me they're up to their elbows in debt. A write off, if you will. And that puts me in the best position of all."

She heard a dull scratching sound as his claws left marks on the table, and her ear quivered at the offending noise. He didn't seem to mind.

"And what makes you think they'd capitulate?" she asked innocently, trying to ignore that awful sound, and the offense against the likely expensive office furniture. "Mind you, I work there."

"Find the right debt, and buy it, coppers on the gold coin," he replied. "Tell me, Meridia...what keeps the wheel going?"

"The kingdom is more square-shaped," she replied deadpan. Karlin slapped the desk and chuckled softly in response.

"But you get what I mean. Commerce and debt exist and work because of honored promises. And when kingdoms don't honor promises...others come to collect." His suggestion rubbed her the wrong way.

"Or take it," she uttered in a low tone. "A lot of that has happened, too. Gold, goods... people."

Karlin frowned when she spat that last word. He understood the implication. "The contracts are a cost of doing business. One I...tolerate, while working here. Better than it used to be, anyway." His confidence had eroded a bit, he didn't respond as quickly. This hit harder than she thought it would. Karlin continued a second later. "The iron price is the one kingdom's try to avoid. But it happens. Occasionally."

"The cost of doing business, you say." Her fingers tensed on the table, and she played out another bait before laughing. "That's a good one! I mean, the banks have it figured out! Or the contract houses, I keep hearing those two are interchangeable. It's quite... ingenious for them, isn't it?"

"No." His voice fell flat, and he folded his fingers together. "I might disagree with my brother on many things, and the way he conducted himself. But he and I have one thing in common: any contract--any deal--should not be so one-sided as to be a trap. People without hope? They don't increase your profits."

It was a strangely contrasting opinion compared to what he had previously stated. She filed that away for later. "So what keeps the wheel spinning? You never answered."

"Well, I gave part of it already. Honoring promises." He steepled his claws together, red scales clinking together ever so gently. "The second part? The value of power."

"You mean currency," she corrected.

"No. Actual power." She expressed genuine puzzlement over this, and he gestured to the room. "What does every Kingdom have, sitting in a vault, that is technically worthless?"

"Gold, treasure, dangerous artifacts?" She wondered what Karlin was hinting at. Maybe it was a riddle. She hated riddles.

"Gold. We assign worth to it, but by itself, it doesn't do anything. It's a lump of metal, meant to look pretty." It was a surprisingly subdued reaction from him. "And yet, we assign power to gold."

"Don't dragons go gaga over gold like it's the most precious thing in the world?" She knew, of course, that was not true. Doug had valued his historical collection far more than anything else, even with its weight in gold. Karlin let out a grunt, shaking his head.

"Do you believe that?"

"No, actually, I don't. I was curious to see what it meant to you, personally," she answered. Karlin leaned back, looking more at ease.

"Gold is perceived as power. Kingdoms go to war over it, fight over the mineral rights when the dust settles, and there are places on Cepalune you could fill a giant building of gold coins and swim in it." She tried not to think of Scrooge McDuck and a giggle escaped her lips. "Something funny?"

"I now have a mental image of you swimming through a gold coin bin!" she replied, trying hard to regain her composure. Oh, goodness...the strangest ideas, huh?"

"Indeed," he mused. "Gold is perceived as valuable because of its scarcity, and a standard everyone can wrap their economies around. Every tankard of ale, every textile, every weapon has a value you can translate to gold, giving it a universal value. But Aurelium...the other version of gold, is power."

Her laughter dried up in an instant. He had her attention, and he noted her perked-up ears. "You know something? I keep hearing it's special, but not why it's special. Just that you can use it for weapons and armor, and it's got some funny properties. I'm not an alchemist, mind you."

She knew that the gold in Fiefdala carried a trace of Aurelium. She'd heard it mentioned enough times–trace amounts. She knew her primary armor set, sitting on contingency, had powerful protection because of it. But was there more to it?

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He shook his head, his head turning slightly. She followed his gaze and settled on a painting of the various gods and goddesses posed in a portrait that looked like the Last Supper--but with supernatural beings, instead. Eerily so was a depiction of Feo'thari in the center, red hair and blue eyes...looking sad. "You know, the laborers in Vale have a story of their own about the deceased goddess of fortune. That her power, her essence, lives in the gold," Karlin said.

"That sounds pretty...not rooted in history," she pointed out.

He shook his head. "Historically speaking, Feo'thari was murdered by one of her own. A betrayal by her lover, Kanael. An odd match, mind you. But, as you small folk say sometimes, opposites attract."

She needed no introduction to who that was--a young man, darkly dressed in grey, long brown hair, somber grey eyes, standing beside Feo'thari. If Karlin hadn't mentioned it, she wouldn't have noted the slight gaze the two gave each other. She squinted, and couldn't shake the feeling that Kanael looked a bit like...Varith?

Nah. That was absurd. This guy was short, Varith was tall. And Varith wasn't sad, he was...boisterous. and scheming, but that was another matter. But the thought persisted, despite the inconsistencies. "Cool story, Karlin. I admit, I haven't heard this one. I thought Feo'thari was forgotten. And I thought no one was sure who set off the Godschism."

"My mother never let me forget her," Karlin grumbled, looking cross. "Always talking about the gods like they were constantly at work. Anyway, the story goes, Feo'thari knew her death was coming; the gods had been at odds with more frequency. Worshippers were getting a little heated between the gods, now that there were no Outsiders to battle. There was no existential survival to band them together. They were splitting apart, squabbling about who had control over which domains, and whether worship could be split. Feo'thari either knew she couldn't stop her death, or she didn't want to."

Fiona's mouth gaped a little. Just enough for Karlin to notice, and he looked intrigued. "Why would someone just stand there and…get killed?" Fiona asked, in a moment of honesty that bled through her necessary facade.

"Because she thought her death would matter. It would get the gods to stop squabbling and fighting each other, which had been going on for a long while. She was the one who brought them together, in the beginning; she figured her death might have the same result, and knew her fortune had run its course. Still, I don't know if a god actually dies, dies," Karlin admitted, frowning as if he too, were considering it.

Fiona felt a cold trickle down her spine–her own experience with death had a disturbing parallel to Feo'thari's. "So what does the Aurelium have anything to do with it?"

"Aurelium is said to be the goddess's essence, her lifeblood. It rained down from the heavens when she died, a golden starfall of pure myr. It fell and sank deep into Cepalune. The biggest deposits of it reside under the Bar'dathi plains, and Fiefdala. They say that, if one were to gather all the aurelium together again…those who suffered under Vale's repressive regimes of past and near-present…they could revive their goddess. They could change their fortunes for the better. Free them from the shackles of fate."

It had grown strangely quiet in the conference room–the sound of a grandfather clock ticking away felt deafening in her ears. Karlin ground his teeth gently, and a strange look crossed his face, before he averted his eyes from the painting. Was that shame he was feeling? The moment passed before she could process it fully. "But, it's just a story. Built on futile dreams and moonshot ideas," he finished quietly. "Feo'thari is gone. And we have to make our own fortune."

"I feel like this is the part where we both cheer for self-made fortunes," she proposed. "You know, I heard your brother was a historian. I didn't realize you had a penchant for it, too."

He shrugged lightly. "Maybe. But he was a collector of junk that no one cared about but him," he rebutted. "Ancient armor of dead kings. Little inventions that never quite lived up to their ambitions. Mementos from forgotten families–letters, keepsakes, diaries, even old chairs! I've never understood why he valued those things. Or ancient territories that he laid claim to, most recently. That didn't end well for him."

"They're all part of history, just as much as Feo'thari was," Fiona stated quietly. "There's value–and power–in knowing the past."

He tapped a claw on the side of his cheek as he leaned an elbow on the armrest, the chair creaking ominously in response to the weight shift. "Listen to you! That's twice in one day that I've been impressed by someone. I think you running into me isn't a coincidence."

"It isn't. I have business prowess. You have connections. I want to make a lot of money, Karlin." She leaned in, tapping the table for emphasis. "And I bet I know things you don't. What do you say, I think you and I should have a business meeting in the next few days. I know things about trade and value that could put you at a net advantage. Maybe even get the old one-up on King Barrimeth. I've got some…connections, you could say."

She could do it. She could sell out Fiefdala for a song. Maybe being bought out by Vale wouldn't be the worst thing that could happen. Maybe it would be for the better. Karlin smiled politely, swiveling the seat gently. "What kind of connections?"

"Contacts in the palace. Information that Barrimeth might not want to share up-front." And she knew that was a hard truth. It could be this easy to turn her back, make a fortune, laugh as Barry dug out coins from his Ikea throne cushions to pay off the dragon upkeep.

But then she thought about Lani, and her smile faltered. "Let me ask you a question, though, Karlin. What's worth more than money to you?"

He let out a sound of surprise, and his eyes flickered back and forth, head bowed slightly. It took him a few seconds to come up with an answer. "What's worth more to me can't be bought with money, Meridia. And it's a broken thing that I wish could be fixed." He clicked open a pocket watch that had made a metallic chime sound at that moment. He spent more than a few seconds looking at it, eyes dimmed. She thought she saw a picture inside, but couldn't make it out before he looked up. "Let's make it a date, shall we? Meet here on Lunesday, at nine in the morning. But I need just a hint of your expertise."

This was a test. She needed to give up something. "Fiefdala has the best alchemical potions around. Their potency is incredibly high, and their costs are low. And the adventurer's guild, despite the rate at which they use them for missions, always has a surplus from their alchemists, and I know how to get a supply, dirt cheap."

She knew that one from the heart, and it was one small piece of information she could part with, knowing it couldn't cause harm. "They have very talented people in that class. And they have some of the best runesmiths around. I know some of them personally who could make you a lot of money with custom jobs. Very lucrative, with the right clientele."

She hoped Bonnie wouldn't get too pissed at that. But she had Karlin's attention with a plan improvised on the fly. Karlin looked satisfied. "I do like connections. Bring some names and numbers. I'd like to make some introductions."

"Oh, we shall indeed," she replied as she slowly stood up from the seat, and he offered a very gentle claw shake. Once again, it surprised her how warm his scales were, though they were much finer and more flexible than the ones adorning his limbs and body. "Lunesday, then. My schedule is clear."

As she walked out, she furrowed her brow, trying to internalize what she'd observed. Things didn't add up. She pondered if Karlin did this with everyone–played up an act to throw people off their game. It would certainly be in line with his expertise as a swindler, and playing to people's emotions. But there were a few moments that made her doubt that Karlin was the big-bad. And she still didn't know the endgame. Where was the money coming from?

He was an opportunist. But bankrupting a whole nation? He couldn't possibly pull it off alone. Even with Glados helping him. And she pondered why he led with that story of the death of Feo'thari. There was no way it could rain magic-laden gold from a dying goddess, and no one would have recorded it somewhere.

More subtle, though: why was the picture of a goddess associated with freedom, sitting in a bank owned and run by people who wanted to take freedom away?

She found Lani waiting outside leaning on one of the pillars, and they quickly departed the bank once Fiona waved her over. Once they were far enough away, Fiona whispered to her, "I saw that. You grabbed something, without touching his bag."

But Lani's hands were now empty, and her beak was creased in a confident smile. "Oh no, I just put them back. But the contents of the paper were far more valuable. I pulled a few bits of information that might be useful to someone. His name, his address, and his business transactions. It looks like he's been dealing with some kind of forge or foundry that works on metalwork. And one of their specializations is gold. What did you get out of him?"

"I…" she trailed off. "I think Karlin isn't interested in just money. He could easily get that, by the look of it. He's after something else. And I don't know if it's aligned with what other people want."

"Such as?" Lani asked, glancing her way as they walked through the streets, back to the merchant's guild.

"Well, Aurelium. He thinks there is power in it." She frowned at that notion. Did Karlin believe that story? That a dead goddess could be brought back to life? That her essence lived on in the Aurelium?

It was insane. But this was Cepalune, and strange things were the norm, not the exception. The question was, why did he believe it? "You know what I'm thinking? I'm thinking we need to pay this foundry a little visit. I think our greedy dragon might be in the process of acquiring stolen goods. That's a no-no in the business world. Now, can you meet me anywhere where there won't be prying ears? The Merchant's Guild is a cesspool--no offense to you, though," she added, a flush of embarrassment on her face.

Lani shrugged with her wings. "I work there because I have to. I don't take offense at that. Anyplace in mind?"

"Doug and I will work on that," Fiona answered. "I need to return to the guild and use my teleport there. I pop up back where I left, so it has a little limited utility." She was so used to things becoming complicated.

She needed one of Darla's scones to take the edge off this day. And a coffee.

A whole pot of coffee.