The not-immortal Blacksmith

39 The Not-Immortal Blacksmith Chapter 14 – Baker V



Lostcairn, Snows Province, Kingdom of Garthia;

7th of Anael, First month of snow;

2117 years since the new gods came.

The Naked Eagle Bakery is up and running!!

Opening day was wonderful. Lots of people, lots of sales. Most of the customers were ordinary rough and tumble types of trades workers, their wives, and children. I spotted a few of the less than savory types in the crowd, but thefts were low. I think I will have a good business here.

8th of Anael,

Day two was good. Not as good as yesterday, but everything sold out before evening. I even had a few upper class types come in. I hope they don't ruin the atmosphere.

14th of Anael,

Had a ruffian come in at close today. He threatened with the old “Would be a shame if something happened to this place.” line. Took everything I had to not laugh at him. I politely told him that insurance wouldn't be needed, and that he should have a roll on the house. He took his roll and left.

Sales are still exceeding expectations. Apparently good bread is hard to find. I think I will start selling Healing Bread in a few days.

16th of Anael,

They tried to burn down the Bakery tonight. Too bad I hate having my shops burn, a big concern with blacksmithing, so the place is covered with a fireproofing spell.

I laughed at them as quietly as I could in my bedroom on the second floor.

Idiots.

19th of Anael,

After close, a different band of hooligans showed up. There are apparently two gangs in the area. I invited them in, of course, and offered them bread. Not what they were expecting. They left peacefully.

21st of Anael, 1pm,

The idiots tried to rob me today. Three of them in masks. They will live, but I need to nip this in the bud. After I close for the night, I will go a-courting.

*-*-*

The back door of the Boars Tusk Tavern was locked. Maxwell took it in stride, and picked the simple lock. He was dressed in his less obvious gear from his time with Tristan, with the addition of a hooded cloak. He opened the door, crouched, and nut punched the guard, as hard as he could. The guard let out a soundless (unless you were a dog) scream, and the local dogs started to bark.

The door had opened to a landing that to the left led to the tavern proper, but the right led to the basement, where one of the local gangs held court. Max headed down the stairs. At the bottom, he was met by another door, and the muffled sound of people having a good time. He opened the door.

The room beyond was large, with an eight or nine foot ceiling, and contained a dozen chairs set at several tables, and nearly 20 occupants. Max strolled in. The noise ceased.

One young thug stood up and strode over to Max, “What are you doing here baker man? Come to pay your insurance?” The crowd laughed.

Max smiled, saying, “No. I have come to politely ask that you and yours name my business 'Neutral Ground' where all are welcome, and no fighting or jobs be pulled.”

The thug turned to face the far end of the room, where an older man sat in a comfortable looking high backed chair. “What do you think, boss?”

The man shook his head, “Kill him.”

The strike was lightning fast, and from behind. Max didn't even register the stab until the knife was pulled from his heart. “That should end the problem.” a thug said from behind Max's fallen body.

Max stretched out face down on the floor, kicked behind him, smashing the backstabber in the knee with his boot heel. The thug screamed and fell. Max stood up, pushed the hood back from his head, and grinned. “Now you've done it. I'm starting to get a bit peeved.”

The room went deathly silent as Max took a step forward, only to see a young Half-Blood fall to his knees in what looked like prayer. He threw a coin at the kid, it bounced off his head, “Shut it kid. Prayer won't help you today.” The kid stopped, eyes wide, as the blood drained from his face.

He continued to walk forward, the thugs and street urchins doing their best to get out of his way. He stopped before the leader of the gang, and looked down at the slightly shaking man, “Let me make this perfectly clear. I will not have what is mine taken or despoiled by you, or any other party. It's bad enough that I have to pay taxes, I will not donate to your coffers.” Max waved his arm over the crowded room, “Now you can take or leave my offer, just know that it is a one time thing, and you have been warned.”

He turned on his heel, and left the room of cowering thugs to their own devices. He did overhear one little bit as he went up the stairs, the kid who had been praying, piping up with, “That was The Heretic! The immortal smith! We've been...” the voice dwindled to nothing in Maxwell's wake.

*-*-*

21st of Anael, midnight,

Well, I had words with one of the local crime lords. Some kid was praying, so I told him to stop. It never helps; didn't help my wife. Stupid gods. Tomorrow evening I will head out looking for the other group of thugs.

22nd of Anael,

Today was free of outside influences. Business was up slightly today. I am selling the healing bread by the slice to the wealthy, and by the loaf to the poor, all at the same price.

I guess I don't need to visit the other crime lords tonight, 7 of them showed up at closing time. Looks like I got my “Neutral Ground” title after all.

26th of Anael,

I expect business will keep up, or possibly even improve. Gaining neutral territory status has increased my customer base to the point that I'm going to have to hire help for the front end, and possibly another baker. I don't qualify as a Master yet, so I will have to go into town sometime soon and inquire at the guild hall.

31st of Anael,

I have hired a counter assistant, his name is Wendell. He so far so good. He likes to handle the money, but has no interest in the actual baking. The guild hall told me that while I am not allowed to have an apprentice for another two years, and need to pass the practical and written test after that time, I can hire “assistants”, I just can't call them apprentices'.

47th of Anael,

2 “assistants” were hired today. A young lass of 12 named Samantha (she prefers Sam), and a middle aged man of 29 named Paul. Both know their way around the kitchen.

TTFN


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