Blood and Sand: A Wandering Inn Quest (Isekai/LitRPG)

Gonna close voting here because I have the next update ready, just doing some formatting.

Rolling… 76


You try to not heave a sigh of relief. You're an academic, not a hiker, and you've spent more time walking in the past two days than you normally do in two months. "The wagon would be… better," you say. "It's hard to prepare lessons while marching through the desert."

Sophie looks at you skeptically, but doesn't argue. "This way, then," she says, before leading you up the stairs of the wagon and to a room at the end of the hall. She knocks twice, then waits patiently, hands clasped behind her back.

"It's not locked!" shouts Livia.

Sophie pushes the door open, then pauses in the entryway. From over her shoulder you can see Livia, lying in an overstuffed sofa at the other side of a small bedroom. A large silver mirror dominates one wall, with a desk and chair beneath it. You see needles and thread laid out in a haphazard fashion, with the only clear space devoted to two silken dolls. Livia yawns, her hair in disarray and her blue robes rumpled.

"Miss Livia!" Sophie says, sounding offended yet unsurprised. "You said you would be ready for the [Teacher] by now."

Livia waves a hand dismissively. "I'm awake."

Sophie sighs, then bustles into the room. She takes a hairbrush from the vanity desk and takes a seat on the arm of the sofa, next to Livia's head. The other girl allows the [Handmaiden] to coax her into sitting upright and having her hair brushed into something more orderly.

"Even silk can tangle if you don't care for it, Miss Livia."

"But I have you to care for it," Livia answers plaintively, before leaning back into the sofa and sighing in contentment.

You hate to interrupt, but you're feeling more and more out of place here. You clear your throat.

Livia cracks one eye open, then seems to remember that you're here. "Oh. Right. Um. Accountant [Slave]."

"Economist," you say, correcting her. "You said you wanted to learn economics."

She scowls. "I want to sleep. The noon sun is for napping, not thinking. But Papa says levels don't come to people who sleep through the day, so… fine. Teach me, [Slave]."

It looks like you have a less motivated student than any of the [Slaves] from your philosophy lesson. That's okay; you weren't expecting a beacon of academic interest from a girl her age.

"Alright," you say. You've had time to think your way through the lesson, so you start off with definitions you'd dredged up from long-ago undergraduate courses. "Economics is, like I said yesterday, the study of the allocation of scarce resources. A scarce resource is anything that has multiple uses, but you can only choose one."

Livia frowns. "Like?"

"The easiest example is time," you say. "You could spend your time doing anything - reading, sleeping, eating, and so on - but once you've chosen one of those things, you can't do the others."

"And right now I'm choosing to listen to you instead of napping," she says. "I could always nap later."

Sophie yanks the brush through Livia's hair a bit harder, then leans down to whisper something to the girl.

Livia pouts. "Papa doesn't need me to train his [Gladiators]," she says. "But I guess I should watch… "

You nod. "Exactly. If you took a nap, you'd be doing so instead of doing something else with your time," you say. "When people decide what to do with their time, they ascribe some sort of value to each of the things they could do, and then pick the thing that they value the most. This is how everyone makes decisions, whether or not they consciously realize they're doing it or not. Of course, 'value' can be hard to define - you want to sleep, but you also want to spend time with your father, and nobody can really say how you value those things except you."

Technically, a personal preference should be referred to as 'utility,' as 'value' is more accurately a market term expressed in currency. But you're trying to strip as much jargon as you can out of this lecture, and the slight clarification the additional terminology provides isn't worth the headache of explaining more terminology.

Also you've always hated the word utility and you will die on this hill. Suck it, Bentham and Mill.

Livia thinks about this for a moment. "This is why you insisted on pricing everything out in silver when we were talking to Papa last night, isn't it?" she asks. "Because silver is easy to compare."

Your jaw drops a bit. You can't help it. That's… such an impressive leap of intuitive logic for a girl her age. For someone of any age who just started learning economics, really. "Yes," you finally say. A suspicion creeps into your mind. "That's it exactly. If you don't mind my asking, how old are you? Miss Livia."

She seems somewhat mollified by the hastily-added title. "My twelfth birthday was three months ago," she says.

She really is twelve, then? Assuming years are the same length here as back home, that is. The day/night cycle seems roughly equivalent so far, so you'll assume years are the same for now. "That's very impressive, then," you say. "Normally this is a subject that isn't introduced to students until they're in their late teens, and even then most struggle with it."

Livia shrugs. "I'm Silk. We're the best and brightest of the String People. And Papa says I'm smart even for Silk!"

"And yet you still need a mere Hemp girl to remind you about your schedule," Sophie says, smiling from behind Livia as she begins to braid the other girl's hair into some sort of heavily ribboned design.

Livia pouts, but can't turn around to glare at the [Handmaiden] without interrupting her work. "Meanie," she says. "This is the thanks I get for years of being a good master. Don't take lessons from her, [Slave]."

"I'm sure I won't be braiding your hair any time soon. Now, an important principle of value is called the Law of Diminishing Marginal Value," you say, not having seen a way to cut the term. "Which is the idea that each unit of something is worth less, to you, than the unit that came before it. As an example, you said that you wanted to save for an enchanted comb?"

Livia makes a noise of agreement.

"You really don't need one," Sophie says, surveying her work. "Silk hair is so easy to work with already. All done!"

Livia tilts her head side to side, testing the balance and feel of the braids. "Yeah, but it would still be nice. And it would really help with yours; the curls tangle so easy. Now, switch with me."

"Miss Livia, you really don't have to - " Sophie says, protesting as she's pulled down to the couch and Livia takes up the comb.

"Hush," Livia says, then gestures for you to continue.

"How much would an enchanted comb cost?" you ask.

"Twenty-seven gold pieces and fifteen silver," Livia answers immediately. That's the first you've heard of gold. You assume it's more valuable than silver, but…

"What's the exchange between gold and silver coins?" you ask.

"Thirty silver to a gold, using Roshal's coins," Livia says. "Papa was complaining about how it used to be twenty five, but silver isn't worth as much right now."

You nod. If the value comes from the metal content of the coin, rather than a central government, it makes sense that the exchange rate would fluctuate some. "How much would you pay for a second enchanted comb?" you ask.

"But I only need one," Livia says.

"Would you buy a second one for a single gold piece?" you ask.

"Well, yeah. I could probably resell it for ten, easy."

"That's what Diminishing Marginal Value is," you say. "You're willing to pay almost thirty gold for the first comb, but barely ten for a second. Each marginal increase in the number of combs is worth less to you than the one before it. Until eventually you're buried beneath ten tons of enchanted combs, and wouldn't pay a single silver for another. All scarce resources follow this rule."

Livia nods to herself as she re-ties Sophie's bun. "Is that why we get discounts on buying in bulk?"

"No, actually," you say. "That's usually a function of what are called 'economies of scale,' which we'll get into later. But your question does lead into my next point: how do we match your willingness to pay for something with a seller's willingness to sell? There's an easy way to visualize it, if you have a pen and paper?"

She does, which means that even in another world, somehow you're still drawing supply and demand graphs. The lesson continues for another hour, at which point you leave Livia with the suggestion she practice some of what you've shown her today. You're uncertain if she'll actually do it or not, but at least she's not offended by the idea.

Sophie suggests keeping you around in the wagon in case Livia has any questions, which Livia is quick to agree to. She leaves the task of finding a suitable space to Sophie, who is quick to stow you away in one of the emptier supply closets. The room is dark, with the only light coming from the cracks at the edges of the door, somewhat dusty with disuse, and your bed consists of two empty crates that are slightly too small, leaving your feet sticking out into open air when you lie down.

But you can lie down, at least.

It's a luxury you're grateful for, even after less than twenty-four hours of life as a [Slave]. Some small part of you feels bad for it, when the others are outside suffering in the sun… but it's not like you're taking someone else's place, here. The only alternative would be to suffer in the sun yourself for no reason.

Besides, you need more opportunities to prove your value to Livia. If you can earn her trust, you'll get more opportunities to act on your own. Your last thought, before sleep begins to take you, is that you just need to be useful to her.


[Teacher Level 2!]

[Skill - Detect Incorrect Learning obtained!]


The voice startles you from the edge of sleep. But before you've even had time to process it -


[Slave Level 3!]


==========

You now have more opportunities to interact with Livia and Sophie. What will you focus on?

[ ] Teaching economics
It's the skill Livia values out of you.

[ ] Finding out more about the world
You're still a stranger in a very strange land.

[ ] Finding out more about the caravan and the Sheik
The people who literally own you are your primary concern.