The Spice of Magic Part I
Third Day of the Eleventh Month 293 AC
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Aboard the Basilisk's Fang, Harbor of Myr
Baelon Dortaris was faced with a quandary. Gathered in the expansive and ornate Captain's Quarters of his flag vessel, his merchant fleet so recently gathered for another venture, he had to consider the shifting tides of trade before he could dip his feet into such troubled waters, for there was as like as not to be another stone cast to create new waves or another wind blowing from the distance which could turn into a summer storm as easily as anything else. And with the subjects in mind, not only under the auspices of dragons, but the peoples of stone and air, that line of thought was all too real.
"King Viserys Targaryen played a dangerous game, or perhaps it was only dangerous from our point of view," Baelon began, a number of captains, the most important ones from his own fleet and longtime allies and friends of his family, trade contacts or some important officials who had not been alienated from his earlier forays into the subject, before that is they had greater problems to worry about, such as finding a way to restrict the flow of gemstones from the Dragon's Terminus such that they might not disrupt the market too much, too soon.
"Yes," Magister Torgon Nestorlan said, "And with us right in the middle." Shuffling tokens around one of the many maps spread out across a dining table no longer used for serving food and wines, feasting long far away from thought of anyone present who had to make or break their fortune in the here and now, or suffer under the tide of Braavosi Houses new and old who's influence was all too uncomfortably felt as far south as Lys. Volantis was a moderating influence, if you could somehow wrap your head around the concept, and a good balance point to anchor a competing enterprise against, but one would not survive long betting upon stability forming from the competition of two equidistant rivals with access to rich grounds for trade which the other found more difficult to reach.
It was only the fact that both could easily access Sorcerer's Deep and thereby the Distant Spheres and their vast markets that made everything a pure gamble, more new Merchant Princes rising and falling on a roll of the dice across all of Essos each month, that for those not used to such good fortune and no experience to know when to collect the pot and go home there was only the new game to be played, some old rules serving them well and some which had to be thrown out entirely with the changing winds.
"Here underlies the brilliance of the move. His new capital is the nexus, how you say--archaic word, better found in the writings of sages I know, but I didn't empty my coffers to gain access to such writings or the services of Wisdom Gyles for nothing." Baelon smiled charmingly at the middle-aged gentleman, surprisingly dapper in his finely sewn robes of crimson and clutching a ledger in one hand and a grimoire in another. Spectacles which glowed with a dim light gave his bright eyes a friendly and curious gleam.
Charm Baelon had in abundance, it was the only way he could get so many competing interests to work together all at once without risk of them tearing each other apart.
He moved some tokens forward, illustrating how the intricate web of trade worked, stone ships which looked more like spiked bores one might find in a craftsman's workshop to represent Shaitan interests, and swan-like vessels which almost seemed too delicate to function for any length of time for the Djinni ones, small flags displaying the symbols of still relatively unknown yet magnificently powerful and wealthy nobles of those spirit realms, who were akin to great Kings in power and reach.
Exotic gems from the Shaitan sold in Myr and onward from Myr to Westeros, the nobility voraciously hungry for the jewelry even as they shook in fright at the idea of sending their own trade factors to visit the Dragon King's ports, and exotic silks and clothes sewn from singing reeds to Tyrosh, dyed and treated with exquisite care before being sold on to Volantis, Braavos or even further east, to ports as far off as Tolos and Lamentation and their rapidly growing class of King's Men. The new elite formed of various competing interests from their Clan Groups or immigrating men and women adding their wealth to the city's trade. Those urban areas expanded beyond their original boundaries with sorcery and wealth carried thousands of miles hence would now happily take in the extra bodies where before the insularity and paranoia against outsiders would hang as heavy as the clouds of ash above Valyria the Fallen so close.
"Gems sold from Sorcerer's Deep surprisingly have not been displacing commonly sold goods, rubies, beryl-types and sapphires are rarely considered worthwhile for the apparent volume but more rare precious stones are popular, apparently only appearing in specific locations in the endless depths," Baelon glanced at his hired mage, who nodded amiably, explaining a little about leylines and channels for natural fonts of wild magic which were jealously guarded. The almost-Maester framed it rather adeptly in a way most present would understand with little clarification, words that a merchant or craftsman might use to understand the world better.
"This still causes short-term market fluctuations, and even finding sources for more common stones in larger quantities would have greater negative consequences during the chaos that in sourcing them from experts from three different cities, the margins would be almost too close to bother with after just a handful of months. Considering all of the capital we would have wasted to secure those sites and the logistics involved--one port of call is just barely sufficient to get started, and that's not to mention the troubles with navigating the interior without guides and guards. No," Baelon shook his head, "the fact we haven't even begun negotiations with the Snake Men--we really need to find out what they call themselves," he made a note aloud to his personal attendant, a manservant who he had served his family for decades and had freed and paid twice what was requested initially because that kind of loyalty couldn't be bought anywhere else. "These are all obstacles we do not have much time to think a way around. Not if we want to secure firm control of this trade."
"Young Lord," the bassy voice of his large... friend, the word almost seemed strange upon the tongue, Baelon thought, always thinking kindly upon the older man and their good work but never allowing himself to form a bond with them that could be looked at askance. "From the notes provided from the Bureau of Foreign Affairs, the King's Heralds say that they are unlikely to take it as an insult. They are a laconic people." He didn't call them simple, since that would be anything but accurate. From what Wisdom Gyles had told them, some of their folk were smarter on average than most people by far. The ones living on Sorcerer's Deep itself through some grand working of magic by the King's hand were smart enough to be able to think circles around Gyles if it weren't for his own magic. They lived close to the wilds out of preferences, not because they did not understand trade or craft, in fact they were learning it worryingly fast if accounts were accurate.
"Be that as it may, it's bad form to not work out basic niceties before we've even made our first overture," Baelon remarked, something everyone in the room quickly agreed with, if only because Baelon had ensured they'd seen that one example of a fool who'd been so stupid as to blunder his way into negotiations with the one dragon close in the King's service, the one who wasn't also a Lord, at least not of any realm of men that he could tell. Lord under the sun and skies, obviously, something the man did not have the good sense to recognize as they had yet chosen to go without any fancy titles beyond 'Amrelath'. The other Prince wasn't turned into a puddle of ash and bone, but they did walk into a bad bargain with the fire-breathing lizard laughing the whole way to the bank.
"What trade, Baelon?" Armandir spoke with a scowl, "You've been dancing around the subject all night. What if not gems and jewels?" He was dressed in far less ostentatious clothing than usual. Who would have thought the curmudgeon would dress-down for a Merchant Venturer's gathering in doublet and hose of all things? Then again, he wouldn't ordinarily be caught dead here, either. Exchanging favors had done wonders for Baelon's trade enterprise, why save anything for later when he might be shut out of all the opening opportunities soon, after all.
"A non-cornered market, by its very nature and the huge demand...
everywhere. Nowhere in the King's forming realm is it without demand, for everywhere Low Magic is being used, informally or in organized fashion, the State needs reagents and the State can provide, but the chain of logistics necessary for it is baffling. They would happily buy from local sources if other citizens with closer trade ties weren't beating them there."
"You want to trade in reagents," Gyles said, lowering his spectacles and gazing at him in shock at the brilliance of the notion.
"No," Baelon countered with a fierce grin, "I want to trade in
cultivating them."
There was a mutter of surprise and excitement through the group for several minutes.
"Captain," a man poked his head in, "Should I let the mage in?"
"What?" Baelon said, startled. The man opened his mouth, hesitated, and shuffled back after Baelon impatiently waved them on.
The man had a hawkish nose, was of Valyrian descent, amethyst eyes cold and calculating as he weighed up everyone in the room and by accounting didn't seem to measure them up well. The Merchant Prince, first scowling at the intrusion, paled considerably when he spied the silvered Book and Sword on the man's grey doublet.
"I'm the mage you hired," the man said, smiling thinly, as if that explained everything.
"What?" Baelon repeated again, eventually, tongue thick with confusion, wondering if they had just broken some laws--already--or gotten wrapped up in some nastier business. Far as Baelon was aware, he had steered very clear from those that trafficked in the type of malignant filth that consigned many a fool to death at the hands of the Mage Hunters or else the King's company of champions who had struck down conjurers in Mantarys, if the plays were accurate. Baelon personally believed them to be so, from what he had witnessed as possible, and the King's character, he thought it unlikely he would allow outright fabrications to form the script of that particular play.
"You inquired for services from Cardinal Point, who received the documents you enclosed with your company's officiator and the charter from the Bureau of Trade, who forwarded your request to the Scholarum, who then forwarded it to... who knows where. At some point it got the right ink-stamp and handed off to my desk, so I imagine they don't want you fools creeping around in Sothoryosi ruins without a mage with other concerns than wealth and research to mind at your back and warding off other dangers," they spoke the words with a calm air of amusement, talking about robbing ancient graves or taking random artifacts found in the savage southlands as some kind of inevitability. Baelon had to admit even if he warned his workers and partners away from that nonsense he couldn't confidently claim it wouldn't happen and he couldn't find a way to promise he'd watch out for it, either. How was he to recognize them in the first place?
"T-that is to say," he paused, because could you really hire an agent of the Inquisition?
"I'm being paid by the Crown still. But you're getting a consultant," the mage handed him a sealed letter, speaking with a tone that brokered no arguments, and with the symbol of the Inquisition upon its enclosed contents Baelon couldn't find it in himself to muster them either.
The Prince looked up after reading it quite thoroughly. "...welcome aboard?" He said the words aloud anyway, uncertain.
The mage shook his head, exasperated. "Investigator Baedar. Don't do anything stupid," he added to the rest, and as if it weren't already obvious, "If you do, I'll probably be the one sweeping you up afterwards."
OOC: Oh hey, it's Baedar again! Do you remember him? Well there's your refresher if you don't.
Why not both!
