There it is: dwarves are not heroes, but calculating folk with a great idea of the value of money; some are tricky and treacherous and pretty bad lots; some are not, but are decent enough people like Thorin and Company, if you don't expect too much.

-The Hobbit


If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.

-Thorin Oakenshield



7. Citizen Kagain: Risky Businessdwarf

The dwarf sat calmly behind the counter, gingerly fingering each gold piece as he stacked them.

Money, he thought. Whoever said money was the root of all evil, was just jealous.

Money moved the world, and this was a good thing. Money was dependable, objective, concrete. It was money that made the town he lived in possible. The construction, the defense, the day to day lives.

Money was a promise. Well-gotten money meant he had done some favor to get it. He who had money, except by thievery or taxes, had given others what they desired to get it.

Those who vilify money just want yours.

Without money, there was bartering. Crude. Slow. Inefficient. And one other option: taking and stealing. An alternative to a thing, will tend to lessen the amount of a thing.

And whoever said it couldn't buy happiness, was obviously poor.

But what about that other alternative: sharing? If only everyone were honest and kind... If only, if only, if only, the dwarf mused, such poetic words. If only we could live in a world of if only, what a world it would be.

And if only we could, what then?

Money, the dwarf knew, was information. How should a farmer choose between growing wheat or barley? Money. Profit. How else should he know what his fellows, a benevolent and communal as they might be, could use most? A small village could centrally plan. But a city, large and diverse?

Money, had said the dwarfish poet Emerhelm, Which represents the prose of life, and which is hardly spoken of in mead-halls without an apology, is, in its effects and laws, as beautiful as elves think roses.

The dwarf brushed his fingers lightly over his perfect stacks of coins - arranged in a grid, he noticed, like the tall buildings of some great city which the world had not yet seen, reaching to the sky but rooted int the ground, built of money as all things must be.


---


"Hear Ye! Hear Ye!" called a town crier in Beregost square. "By order of His Most Radiant of Lathander Kelddath Ormlyr, governor of Beregost, and in the best interest of its peoples, forthwith there be a bounty placed upon the head of the mad cleric Bassilus, for the crimes against nature that he has committed! Anyone bringing proof of his demise to the Song of the Morning Temple shall receive no less than five thousand gold! Hear Ye! Hear Ye!"

Jade and her two companions finally made it to south to Beregost, in very good shape. Xzar was babbling about how the little people were bouncing through Beregost like rabbits breathing spices and consuming the fumes of mercury and thyme. Montaron was eagerly fingering a gem as they walked through the town, and slyly glancing at various passers-by, as if appraising their suitability for the cutting of purses. Jade, proudly wearing her first-ever suit of platemail - sans the Fist insigna it had recently displayed - was looking around with a mix of cynicism and wide-eyed amazement at what for her was by far the largest human settlement she'd ever seen, although she was aware that it was just a little town in the great scheme of things.

The trio was laden with the weapons, gems, and leather armor of several dozen hobgoblin and other nasties they had dispatched along the road, as well as some items looted from a caravan that had been destroyed by perhaps some of the same aforementioned bandits. Most of this gear they were eager to sell, and Montaron was leading them to a shop he said gave 'better rates than Thunderhammer's, with less questions asked.'

The shop was dimly lit, indeed hardly lit at all. The only person, customer or employee that could be seen was an old dwarf barely peeking over the counter.

"Er," Montaron grimaced, and looked at Jade, "This isn't quite what I remembered."

Jade shrugged, looked around curiosily, and strode up to the counter.

She literally had to look over the counter to see the face of a tough-looking dwarf, his beard long and white even for one of his race. It was practically a mask. "Greetings, I'm Kagain," he spoke in a whispery, almost geriatric, voice as the tall human warrior approached. "What can I do for you?"

"Kagain Goldaxe!" Montaron piped up, unable to properly see the dwarf from over the counter. "Yer shop be lookin' a bit understocked, ya hairy-faced troll of a codger!"

"Aye, what of it?" Kagain scoffed, but Montaron ran around the side of the counter, and the dwarf chuckled, "Well well well, Monty Sackins. What brings you back this way, you hairy-soled runt of a lad?"

Jade arched a scarlet eyebrow at this greeting, and looked around at the lack of for-sale merchandise on the shelves. "Ummmm, what kind of shop is this anyhow?"

The dwarf seemed to grin, but beneath his long, white beard, it was difficult to be sure. That beard must make for great poker faces...very convenient for a bartering type, Jade thought.

The dwarf answered matter-of-factly, "I run an escort business."

Escort business?? Jade thought angrily. Why, that puny little pimp...

It must have shown in her face, for the dwarf chuckled, "No, silly young girl! Not that kind of escort! I hire mercenaries to escort caravans on route from Amn to Baldur's Gate."

"Ye no longer an armory too?" Montaron grumbled.

The dwarf muttered something coarse, even by dwarfish standards, under his breath, and then spoke up, "Aye, Monty. Thunderhammer kept undercuttin' me...can't win a price war when that crook's gotten himself subsidized courtsey a' mayor Keldath.." He wiggled his stubby fingers like someone strumming a harp, and Montaron snickered and echoed the gesture, "...and his bunch of theocrats running this town out of the Song of the Morning Temple." Kagain dry-spat at the floor. "Then they've the gall to complain about my 'price-gouging'! Well, anyone can lower his prices when the town's alms make up the difference! Buncha mealy-mouthed dawn-loving pinky cultists."

Jade smirked, nodding along with the dwarf. "Oh, you'd just love my brother - he's a Divine Champion of all things."

"That so, lassie?" Kagain snickered. "Well, let's hope you've a bit more sense. Speaking of which," he segued smoothly, "Right now I'm lookin' for some strong sword arms, and I'm willing to pay high. It seems that one of these caravans under my protection never arrived at Baldur's Gate, and I want ta know what happened. You look like a strong group of warriors; interested in a job?"

"Sure," Jade began, in as disinterested, nonchalant a tone as she could manage, though suddenly cut off from her home, with rather lightly loaded companions, she was in fact a fair bit desperate. "We can always use some extra money, tell us more."

Kagain seemed to smirk beneath his beard, and stare through Jade rather than at her. "That's good. I've been having a lot of problems with the bandit activity lately, but they've always only taken the cargo and let to caravan go afterward. I've been catching flak from the family of some of the passengers of this caravan, after all it was the job of my mercenaries to make sure everyone got safely to Baldur's Gate. Normally I wouldn't give one damn about some stupid whiner, but one of the passengers was the son of Entar Silvershield, and in this part of the world, his word is the law. So you do want the job or not?"

Xzar started to say something but Montaron kicked him in the shins, and the wizard growled menacingly at his companion but stayed silent.

"I'll tell you as soon as you tell me our fee," Jade said faux-politely.

"I'll pay each of you 30 gold per head, plus a share of any booty, if there's no one left alive to claim it," the dwarf stated, very business-like.

Jade feigned a laugh. "30! You must be joking! Find some other small-time fool to run your errand!"

Kagain smiled calmly. "Very well. There's no shortage of adventurers who'll work at such generous rates."

Jade sneered, her bluff called. "Very well. 30 it is." The truth of the matter was, she would be willing to do it for almost any price, not out of desperation for money, but because she strongly suspected that they had already passed the caravan to which he referred, which moreover had been only a short jaunt north from Beregost. Easy money. And she was already mulling a second proposal.

Kagain nodded. "Hey, I'm glad you guys have some sense in your heads. I have an underling who'll be in bright and early next morning, and can take care of business here while I'm gone." He chuckled and begin grabbed some equipment out from behind his desk. He threw on some dwarven mail and a winged golden helmet which hid any part of his face his bearded didn't, leaving only two eyes and a nose rimmed by metal. He hoistded on an already-packed backpack, slung some throwing axes on his belt, and grabbed a battle axe, putting his stubby fingers around a grip on the back of the head, so that he could hold it almost like a walking stick.

"Well, let's get a move on," he called and was already walking to the door.

Jade frowned. The dwarf seemed awfully prepared for this 'sudden excursion.'

Her thoughts drifted back as Montaron chuckled to her on his way past, "Very savvy, for a human."


------


"You whippersnappers knew it was here all along!" Kagain half-yelled, half-laughed and angrily smashed his axeblade into an innocent tree stump next to the desecrated caravan.

"I thought so," Jade smiled, looking at the remains of the same caravan his party had found and looted before reaching Beregost. "We rifled through it, and one of us recognized the Silvershield Crest."

Montaron smiled proudly. This wasn't the first time he'd broken into chests bearing that insignia.

Jade continued, "...and when you explained about your caravan, well, surely it was the same one."

"Heh!" Kagain laughed, "Well, I can't blame someone for agreeing to easy money. But why didn't you just sell me the information right then?"

"Didn't think you'd buy it - literally," Jade shrugged, "We didn't have proof."

"Well, now we do," Kagain smirked, "And, though I hired you for an easier job than I thought, you did fulfill it. A deal's a deal - here's your gold," he pulled out three pouches and handed them to the others, who counted the gold coins inside and put them away.

"Now I have an offer for you," Jade began, and Kagain's eyes gleamed expectantly, as if already appraising treasure, "We are on our way south to Nashkel, we mean to meet with the mayor about a commission regarding investigation of the disturbance in the mines. If you join my party, you will be entitled to an equal share of any reward, or treasure we acquire along the way."

Kagain scratched his beard thoughtfully, but Jade wondered how surprised, if at all, he really was. "You've got yourselves a deal. I'll be glad to investigate that; the iron crisis has been good for my business lately, what with the demand for mercenaries higher than ever; but eventually anything bad for the whole economy would be bad for me. Us mercenaries gotta buy iron weapons too, after all. And whoever's behind it likely has deep pockets worth skimming for our troubles. Let's get a move on."

Xzar nervously tapped Jade on the shoulder. "The King of the Lollipops in his underwater palace of ham says we should sleep before going to Nashkel. It is late, and soon the grinning chickens with vampire fangs and the harpoon-throwing monkeys will be out! They come for us when we don't sleep, you know. I have seen it, 'tis true!"

"Alright, alright," Jade turned to Kagain, "Let's set out in the morning."

"You humans," Kagain spat, "No stamina at all."

"Aye," Montaron grinned.

The dwarf shot him a cold look. "You hobbits're even worse! Napping, eating, smoking, napping, eating, smoking..."

Montaron glared back, looking up (slightly) at the dwarf. "Why, ye bloated, bearded..."

"Alright, alright," Jade groaned. "Let's get back to town. You two can midget-wrestle later."