Deceiving the Deceiver
GM Wakefield gives us a little off-screen scene with Jorshin. The trader aspires … beyond his roots, it seems. “Deceiving the Deceiver” … it’s a good read from the Solhaven officials:
Category: Towns
Topic: AnnouncementsDate: 12/16/2016 06:11 AM CSTFrom: GS4-WAKEFIELDSubj: Deceiving The DeceiverA thin cloud of dust drifted in the air in front of Jorshin’s face, as the coarse burlap sack bursting with aid supplies thumped on top of the pile of others filling the back of the sturdy wooden cart. The cart, and many others like it, would all eventually be sent northeast to Talador to aid the survivors of the terrible events that had recently unfolded there.Jorshin smiled and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, as he stepped away and took a quick surveillance of the rest of this round of supplies. This would be the third such shipment he had sent along to be combined with others under the care of Lady Kasendra to go to the needful.
The sound of crunching gravel under a heavy tread caught Jorshin’s ear, and he turned to find the commander of his guard escorting the supplies approaching, clutching a fistful of crumpled papers in a gauntleted hand. Kormack had been in his family’s service for most of Jorshin’s adult life, so when his father had sent him north to do his bidding, Kormack’s presence at the head of the guards accompanying him had been an unwelcome, if not unexpected, development. Jorshin had hoped to head north from their estate on the outskirts of Ubl in Allace by himself so that he might best perform the task that had been given to him without the possibility of outside interference or prying eyes. Not only had those hopes been dashed with Kormack being assigned to lead his guard, but the look upon the grizzled man’s face told Jorshin that the conversation they were about to have would be far from pleasant.
His suspicions were soon confirmed when the crumpled papers in Kormack’s fist were thrown at Jorshin’s chest with a rasping, “What in the blazes is this, Jorshin?”
Jorshin knew that his views of the world did not necessarily coincide with that of his father’s, and that Kormack was his father’s man through and through. Taking a measured breath he replied simply, “Those would be the manifests of what we’re sending to the Lady Kasendra’s camp with this aid shipment, Kormack.”
“I can read, you know,” was the seething reply he received. “I mean why did we buy the heavy blankets? That merchant was willing to sell you the lighter weave at a fantastic price. Why you paid probably 20% more for these ones instead. What will that do to profits?”
“Have you ever been to Talador, Kormack? They don’t just have cool nights with a breeze from off the water to worry about like we do back home in the winter. We’re supposed to be helping these people, not letting them freeze to death in a refugee camp with snow to their knees and a only a thin blanket for warmth.”
Kormack scowled but did not relent, “Well what about this? You paid someone to winnow this grain before we sent it? Why would you waste your money on something like that?”
“Because these people need good food, Kormack,” was Jorshin’s patient reply. “There were signs of weevils in that grain, and the chaff in some of the bags was pretty prevalent. We bought by volume, we may have actually ended up saving money not paying for the inedible portion. Why are you stomping up here demanding answers about the goods you’re here to protect?”
Kormack narrowed his eyes briefly and assumed a false pretense of deference. “My apologies, sir. I just know your father would want us to make as much as we can, and…”
Jorshin raised a hand to cut him off, “We aren’t here to make money, Kormack. We’re here to help people.”
Kormack’s face flushed deeply as he angrily replied, “That was the reason given to the people in this town to hand over their coin. You’re playing with house money! Think of how much you could make if you play your cards right. You could impress your father and finally earn his respect, and mine, as a trader instead of just being a day dreaming do-gooder.”
Jorshin stared at Kormack expressionless as he considered his reply, “I know the kind of man my father is. The kind of man my father wants me to become. I also know the kind of man I want my wife to know she married, and the kind of man my kids look up to as they grow, Kormack. We’re here to help people, not to line our pockets with the goodwill of the rest of the citizen’s of the Empire!”
At the point of continuing his explanation Kormack waved him off and stomped back towards the small group of guards he had left waiting for him some ways down the road. A quiet exchange quickly took place and more than one head turned to glance Jorshin’s way as he watched the commander’s lips moving and arms waving. He suspected this wouldn’t be the last he heard about how he was screwing up this opportunity by actually doing what he said he was going to do for the people of Talador. After the conversation ended Kormack barked orders and men moved off to their posts around the staging area looking a bit more rigid than usual.
Jorshin shook his head and sighed. At least he’d be able to help these poor people. His father would just have to understand…. and it wasn’t like he even knew what was going on. What did it matter how much profit Jorshin took back home? He was always adept at explaining the margins on his business ventures to his father to make things look favorable for himself anyway. He would never find out that his son wasn’t a heartless crook like he was.
Walking across the market in Vornavis, a tired mother kept her eyes on her two young children as they scampered on ahead of her. Suddenly, they stopped and one pointed excitedly to the sky where she could just make out a speck heading south against the overcast sky off the bay. Catching up to the children, she found them mid-argument.
“I’m telling you, Cassie, it was just a stupid seagull.”
“No it WASN’T, Trent! I saw it first, before it got far away. I’m telling you it was a pigeon! You know like one of the ones in the tales with the messages on their legs?”
“You listen to too many stories. Who cares what kind of dumb bird it was, anyway?”
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