Vol. 2, Ch. 96: Cutthroat Exchange Rates
Once they packed up the portable shop, Fiona called Nick and Cita. She told then they'd meet up at their room at the inn
But first, she had some care packages to pick up at the shop, and no one would know when she was coming or going.
Ten minutes later, after one quick call to Bonnie and Greg, Fiona had all the equipment she needed, along with Doug's instructions. She attached every dimensional pocket she could get her hands on to her light armor vest set.
Greg was in dismay as Bonnie helped patch on more onto the tactical armor, humming merrily as she worked. Fiona looked down, and realized one thing:
She looked like a hobo.
"You look utterly ridiculous, Fiona," Greg sighed.
She wasn't inclined to disagree. But this was function over fashion. And definitely function over fun.
"I could be carrying hundreds of millions of gold, Greg!" she responded. Bonnie casually weaved in an expanded a dimensional bag while she held still "Look, if this is stolen gold, I'm stealing it back!"
"How will you know its ours?" He asked, looking puzzled. "I worry there's a chance this is legit Vale coin."
"I swear I can smell out Aurelium content." She pulled a coin out of her pocket for emphasis--and it smelled like a sweet roll, covered in pennies, unlike gold from vale, which didn't. "Plus, unified Kingdoms gold is switched out. Vale has their own mints, and they have to do funky exchanges with what little commerce exists between us and them, or us, and the dwarven, who do limited trade with them."
Fiona might be doing the heavy lifting, but Cita and Nick would have satchels too. Doug would be looking for documents of damning proof, once he was done with overwatch. Given his lower profile, he might have the easier job.
"Don't overfill these, Fiona," Bonnie cautioned. "You might be able to lift gold like it weighs nothing? But I worry about what happens when you start walking around carrying that much. The ground might take offense to that."
"That was a long way to say, I'm heavy, Bonnie."
Her vulpine friend laughed heartily at that, and she put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Aha, sure thing, Fi. Now, let's get back to the main event. I have a few extra potions from the guild that might be helpful. You know, your basic fleetness potion, the dances with elves potion--"
"They legit named it that?" Fiona asked with a grunt. "That feels a little on-the-nose, here."
Bonnie continued on. "It's just a name. A silly one, mind you. I also have invisibility potions. Try not to forget where your feet are, this time."
Greg smirked, while Bonnie tried to hide a coy smile. It had been just a little embarrassing to use them to embezzle snacks--only to trip on her own two feet on the getaway.
Fiona gathered all the items and put them into a kit, and Greg looked like he had something to say. "Fiona, what exactly is your plan if this is a legitimate enterprise?"
"How could it not be?" she fumed. "The thieving dragon brother of Doug has this place in his pocket. It's gotta be a lair of scum and villainy!" Greg's subtle twinge of concern finally gave her reason to assure him. "Look, if this is a legit business, or the gold is legit theirs, then we'll go to Plan B. Because Plan A is being completely torched by Barry, who can't negotiate to save his life."
"And what is Plan B?" Greg asked.
"Dig up five hundred million gold with trade deals with anyone and everyone I can get ears with. The Bar'dathi have some produce and artisanal products that need a home, and I'm sure there is money to be made. You've also got the dragons to the north, the dwarves, too! I'm already putting their armor on the stands--oh wait, it's sold out," she corrected.
She gestured to the empty rack where the heavy plate armor had sold in less than a day. "The point is, we have backup options."
"Five hundred million worth of a backup plan?" Greg sounded unconvinced. "As good as you are, Fiona? There's no way you pull that off. At that volume, you should talk to my father."
"Uh...Lockheed, Lockheed, and Swiftheart Logistics, LLC, does have a nice ring to it," she offered with a lopsided smile. Not even this was enough to break Greg's composure, and he remained stoic. "C'mon, you have to give him at least one chance to make up."
"We could be waiting a while for that one. Though this recent effort to help us find the Santinos is...closer to something less transactional." He scrunched his face as he said that. "Alright, you're geared up. Better get back to the inn where Nick and the others are. We still don't know how long that echo point lasts for your teleport."
One poof later, she handed off equipment and supplies. They went over the plan, with Nick, Cita, and Doug gathered around the dingy-looking table. They passed around a few quick sketches on the arcanist pads displaying the automatons, the cargo containers, and other items of interest. they realized they needed to be discreet and had already identified a way in.
There was a supply truck, a large automaton that had made its way through early in the night, and then dropped off a shipment. What they needed to do was to figure out where it stopped and hide discreetly in the cargo containers. They would only get one shot at this. But she still emphasized they needed to find the fake gold.
"I don't get it. Why are we still going to look for the funny money?" Why bother with that, when there's possibly real gold being stolen?" Nick complained. "The odds are pretty good that the gold is right there. We're stealing back what belongs to Fiefdala, plain and simple."
"We still don't know what they're doing with it," she argued. "My money is on–heh, pun there–that they're going to defraud someone. Big-time. My guess is it's Fiefdala, and they're going to do it when Barry finishes the trade deals. Even though I've warned him not to trust them. He's an idiot."
"He's desperate," Cita corrected. "Desperate people make mistakes. I still think it would be a waste of time to chase fake money. We need to find the real money, Fiona. Our goal is to help Fiefdala."
Fiona stared at her blankly. "Excuse me, when did it become just about Fiefdala? Have you taken a gander around lately, Cita? This whole city, and a good chunk of the countryside, is under the thumb of legally and magically enforceable labor contracts. It's slavery by a different name!"
"Not our country, not our problem," Cita huffed. "No one gives a toss about what happens in Vale. I was a kid when their army came knocking, by the southern hills. It was a little scary. This new guy in charge will do the same thing that all the others did: He'll gather armies, raid, and pillage for five minutes, then get beaten back.
Cita tapped her wristwatch like it was a prop. "It's clockwork, Fiona! No one has solved the problem of Vale for hundreds of years! No one is going to! No one wants to."
Fiona was about to lay into Cita about her utter disregard for the people of Vale, because it bothered her immensely.
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Nick put out a hand of restraint, sensing the probable blowout, before speaking softly. "Fiona, I get it. I can see where you're going to connect the dots. I know what kind of zany plan you have. You want to take that unfathomable amount of fake money as part of a plan. You want to give it to everyone as an undetectable fake, that only you can see past, if what you told us is correct, presumably to buy out the contracts. Right?"
"Yeah. Exactly!" She wasn't happy that her plan could be that easy to understand, or draw instant scorn. "I want to do these soul thieves dirty! I want them to lose their influence, and figure out how they're supposed to run a country when they can't enforce an 'or else' clause on people. Maybe the place will turn out nicer!"
"Or maybe, you'll invite violent revolution," Cita scoffed. "Fiona, this is one of the few times I'm going to tell you to say this. Please, have some chill. Us dunking on Vale while making trade deals could go wrong, very quickly."
"Cita. If they've been delivering a cart of gold ore to that smelter place for years you know how much that adds up to?" Fiona asked, an edge to her tone. "Possibly millions. Give or take. They've stolen Fiefdala's future."
"Then focus on that, first. We can't go looking for funny money right now. Now let's go over this once more," Cita said, her leather armor creasing gently as they leaned on the table to go over the plan. Fiona would argue that this was important to do, but…
This wasn't something she could do on her own. Yet.
The plan was simple enough. Follow the cargo containers, waiting for them to get shipped back to where they were filled. Then, once they knew they were closer to their destination, they'd pop out and use their invisibility potions to trojan horse into the containers, sneak into the facility they were being shipped to, and hopefully avoid any contact. She figured, no one would bother guarding an empty cart.
The execution, however required key timing. Bonnie had explained over the arcane relay that the potions only lasted for about a good 10 minutes at best. Fiona had used these exactly a few times before, so she knew what to expect. Most of the time it is difficult to tell where you were standing because you couldn't see your feet. That was a discomforting sensation that never got old.
Luckily for them, popping the potions–of which they had three, each–allowed them some latitude for getting onboard, and two more for situational usage. Fiona hoped she wouldn't have to use all three of them.
They weren't cheap, even if Bonnie wouldn't say it. She had likely fronted the cost on this one out of her pocket.
An hour and a half later, they'd tailed the empty cargo back to a rail station down the road on the outskirts of Vale, complete with a steam engine. Fiona would have sworn they were back in the Wild West, almost. And she was filling the role of a train robber! Except, this cargo was already stolen, so would that put her on the right side of the law?
"So, let me see if I understand the logistics. this rail line is connected to Fiefdala at an exchange that goes through Bar'dathi territory. does this mean the elves are also helping ship stolen gold?" Cita asked.
"We don't know anything for sure. I mean we have magic, Cita," Fiona countered. "I'd hope they weren't involved. But I see more empty containers there, with the same markings. not torn open, just unlatched." She could see a wooden crate with scorched logos--predictably, a dragon-headed emblem wearing a sneering grin that looked right at home on Karlin's face.
She reminded herself that Karlin and Doug weren't really twins at all, only fraternal ones. But the similar appearance could make people believe that.
This effort had all the appearance of a legitimate enterprise, and the people who brought it back caught an automaton cart back to town and looked like they were running a regular day job, jovially laughing with each other. There was no mention of gold, riches, stolen wealth, or anything strange.
She hated this notion that maybe this was a legitimate business. They waited for the coast to clear, while Doug flew overhead on overwatch. She clicked her relay to signal him.
"I see one guard napping at his booth. The other guy is getting coffee. Hmm. I smell elfbeans, good blend," Doug mused, with the sound of a breeze on his end of the relay.
"Dragon crap. You can't smell that from up there," Fiona called out.
"You're right, I spotted it, but I didn't smell it. Sassy elf, maybe you're sharper than you look," Doug called out, and she muttered something unflattering under her breath, while Cita chuckled. Nick waved them through since the guard was taking a nap.
But the second guard, a human with messy black hair, was doing his job properly and patrolling the carts, and checking inside them--likely, for vagrants. But he only did a cursory sweep, and there was a spring of youth in his step. He was also unpredictable. He kept checking random corners with his light. But, he'd never find them, because he was looking in all the wrong places.
Five minutes later, they popped open a cargo cart, and peered inside, after the guard had just passed by. Once inside, they sealed it shut. Fiona clicked the relay. "Doug, keep an eye on that lanky kid. He's dumb enough to blow this by actually caring about his job." Once inside, Fiona glanced at the empty crates--all with their tops popped open. She didn't see anything out of the ordinary.
Except, for a small gleam of something golden in the bottom, no more than the size of an eraser, tucked in a corner, and obscured by some paper packing peanuts. She waved Cita and Nick over, crowding together. "Is that...gold?" Cita whispered.
"Sorry, this isn't." She frowned as she palmed the metal. "But, it looks like gold. Pyrite, maybe?"
"Nah. feels too heavy. This is something else, maybe an alloy." She hated that it was a false alarm, but they'd learned nothing. Nick tapped his relay. "Doug, any incoming trains down the line?"
"Got one coming up the rail, about fifteen minutes away. I think it's the evening cargo circuit, no passenger cars, it's all raw goods and packaging," Doug replied. "I hate saying it, but...maybe this is legit. Wait, hang on. another automaton coming up the road. There are more people in the same uniforms that we saw earlier. but mixed in with regular passengers. Better get into a hiding hole."
"Karlin is doing someone dirty, Doug. Just because we haven't seen thieving yet, doesn't mean they're legit. We still don't know what the deal is with the fake gold yet, or how the Santinos fit in."
"Then better go find a place to hide your scrawny elven arse, and find out," Doug growled.
It took a little effort, but they were able to pull back the ceiling a bit on the cargo containers and wedged into a dark corner of the container, each of them looking at each other warily. "Take potions when we hear the commotion. They take five seconds for full effect," Cita instructed.
With ten minutes of invisibility, no one should be looking above them. She just hoped there wasn't something they missed as she popped her potion. She was treated to the lovely taste of blackberry, and her body faded from view.
The first man entering the container brought in sealed crates, each of them taking time to load them in. There were about twenty total, and the men complained about the weight. The lead man, a wolven with black fur, rolled his eyes.
"Look, even I don't know what's in them, and it's not part of the job. We get zero pay and we get a 'go directly to jail' penalty if we tamper with the crates. They're impact-resistant and magic-resistant, and I get paid too much to risk taking a peek," the man growled. "If someone pays you this much for cargo, and to leave it unspoiled? You don't ask questions you don't want to know the answers to. Plausible deniability."
A young red-furred vulpine scratched one ear. "Maybe it's stolen goods."
"Or maybe you should shut up, and not ask why a rich-ass dragon is shipping crates," the wolven shot back. "Do you want to become a cautionary tale of being snacked on by a dragon?"
"Uh...no?"
The leader grinned proudly. "Great, there's still common sense in your head! Now get your butts moving. We're going to be late if we take any longer."
Fiona held her breath quietly as felt that potion winding down--ten minutes passed far too quickly for her liking, and she saw the fainted outline of Nick. Apparently that avian metabolism was burning through the potion a little faster.
The last man unloaded a crate, secured with a strap into the bay, and then she heard the lead worker holler to the automaton cab that the shipment was ready. The bay door had barely closed by the time they all were visible, and Fiona felt a small bead of sweat. She was glad that they had a breather. Something of importance was in these crates. She was going to find out what, exactly.
Except, if they tampered with them, someone might know they'd been snuck into. "Cita? Can you crack them?" Fiona whispered.
"There's no ward that can stop me. The lock is easy enough..." Cita got to work, hands barely moving as she worked her magic, and stuck out her tongue, as if deep in concentration.
In about a minute, Cita threw open the container and gasped. There was a mountain of stacked gold in there, held in place by careful packaging so it didn't move around. "Gold rush...wait, Fiona, what's with that face?" she gave her a squinty look.
Fiona only had to pick up one coin to know it was fake. "False start. it's not real, I can feel it has weight. real gold weighs nothing for me. Fake!" She jabbed a finger accusingly at the coin.
It did not seem to take offense to the accusation. "Hey...how much fake gold is this, Nick?" she asked as she surveyed the room. "This is...a lot of fake gold. I thought the Santinos were handling this."
"About..." he trailed off as he counted the crates, and let out a birdsong whistle. "A million and a half? But these are minted and done. Also, how do you know they're fake?"
"It isn't just the weight. There's something that feels...wrong with the metal." It was almost as if it gave off a sour scent. Something like...vinegar. "Also, heads up, we're moving. Let's keep it to hushed whispers."
The end use of these coins was still a mystery. The jarring motion of the automaton, indicated they'd have to find more answers elsewhere.
And sooner, rather than later.