Nyermersys - {MV} Town Hall

[Kelancey the Green]

  With one eyebrow raised, Shaegrýn’s look of disdain softens only slightly.  She lifts her head only to a degree that one skilled in observation, such as yourself, could perceive; you think you hear the sound of old muscles and sinew grinding over age-worn bone with just this trace movement.

  “Hmph,” she starts, reclining into the back of her chair.  “Well, I’d still like to know where you got these coins from!  But, you’ve got my attention.  A foodstuffs store is something we can use.  Not another riff-raff, slipshod racket, assembled haphazardly by some crook out to peddle his latest swindled loot.  Tell me more.”

  Behind you, in the line for Taxes, you hear a short woman in a coarse brown vest moan loudly.  “That’s my family’s farm!  How can you do this to us?”  Meanwhile, across the room from her, you hear laughter coming from the direction of the Treasury table.

[Weivóc'Neán]

As he hears all the noises from around him, he thinks of what to say to the lady as not to hint on to his real career as a assassin much. He then says "I do seem questionable with the ammounts I have made, but they are from an honest work. The silverbards are from where I have saved some people, some rich, some poor. The poor ones let me stay with them and fed me that night, as the richer ones, gave me a handsome reward. The other bit, is from tracking down and capturing wanted men, and then turning them in. There are also a few other tasks here and there that have earned me some sans, but most is from capturing wanted men and saving rich innocent people." He then takes a brake and semi-holds his breath to see if the woman believes him.

OOC: I need a list of foods and drinks that I could order and sell. Also, if I would be able to hire someone, what jobs could they do and how much.

[Kelancey the Green]

  More amicable today than is her custom, Shaegrýn grunts for you to elaborate.  "Get a move on, son.  What are your wares?  What are you sellin'?"  She eyes the line of petitioners forming behind you.  "I don't have all day, ya know!"

[Kelancey the Green]

  Thankfully, the rest of the journey to the southern section of the city is uneventful, and Elias guides you reliably well to the hospital.  "Now, I don't know where they'd have taken our wounded fellow, but I'm guessing from his nobleman's threads that he'd be in the big hospital.  The one for rich stiffs.  Mind your manners in 'ere, 'Prentice Nehtorian."

  With a beckoning wave of his hand, and an animated, "Come on!  Shake a leg there, healer!", Elias bounds up the front steps of the larger wing of the hospital.  You hear much activity within, mainly people speaking in low tones, though an occasional lamentation or moan breaks the serene calm infrequently.

-=[Arin, please write your next post in {SC} Hospital of Seyella if you choose to enter the hospital.]=-

[Weivóc'Neán]

Seeing as how the lady is impatient, he gets right on with his list of items, "Alright, I will tell you my list slowly so you can right it down. I would be hopefully selling:
fresh apples,
wheaten, barley, and golden rain bread,
butter,
local and imported cheese,
fresh eggs,
sunset and yellowtail fish,
fresh bardavos grapes,
chicken, rabbit, and wild boar as meat,
cow's milk,
mutnut and doch nuts,
vegetable oil,
miad's ease tea,
artwine, dwarven ale, and k'laaf for some wines,
for treats, kao-kao, redberries, and waterberries,
and also some different herbs and spices that are available for sell. Also, I would hope that instead of just a store, maybe grow into a bar, when enough money is raised and I can afford it. These are just the things I will hopefully be selling, and things I would hope to grow into, if some things will not be able to be sold from here, then let me know. I know it is expensive, but I will start with just a few of these in low ammounts and then work up and keep track of everything. Will that be alright?"

[Kelancey the Green]

  Shaegrýn clears her throat loudly twice, coughs once more for effect, and folds her hands atop the desk.  She closes her eyes for a few moments and remains silent, her forehead wrinkling now and again as if pondering some deep thought.  Her eyes open part-way, and she squints at you, then scratches her head.

  “The foodstuffs and wine all sound great," she says after some contemplation.  "Remind me to nip on by your shop sometime for a taste.  The bar idea, though…I don’t know where you’ll seat all those folks with a shop of that size.  You’ll just afford the fee for your district allocation and your annual taxes, plus the thane’s tariff on perishables, and the maintenance costs alone…”

  She picks up her quill and scratches some figures onto a parchment in front of her, doing some quick arithmetic to sum up the figures she’s put in ink.  With a soft sigh—you have some difficulty distinguishing whether it is a sigh of contentment or resignation—she turns the parchment around for you to read.  “Alright, here’re your costs for opening your shop.  Initial fees come to 42 silverbards, 7 ods.  The annual taxes are ten percent of that, so there’s another 4 silverbards, 2 ods, 7 sans.  The monthly tariff amounts to 2 silverbards a month for a general store, with the first two months paid up front.  So, your startup costs come to 50 silverbards, 97 sans.  Your costs for shop wares and vendors are your own to manage.”  With that, she sits back in her chair and stares at you, awaiting your response.

[Weivóc'Neán]

As he reads over it, he ponders for a second and then asks, "Does the store come with a storage room or second floor?? If not, how much for a small storage room at the side or to buy one with a second floor? And for the assistants, where do you recommend I look for trustworthy help?" He then sat there pondering Ok, now this is gonna be alot, and not much business in the beggining, so how many assassination will I have to do a month to keep this going? Probally just a few, if they are good enough.

[Kelancey the Green]

  Shaegrýn shifts uneasily in her chair, again eyeing the line of waiting people.  She thumbs her nose nervously, then looks up from her desk of papers when you ask, "...how much for a small storage room at the side or to buy one with a second floor?"

  "Hrm?" she snorts disconcertedly.  "I don't know these things.  That, you'd have to arrange with whomever the building belongs to.  If you wanted to construct your own shop with a cellar or a side room, that's your business, but you'd better ask the Magistrate before putting up any new buildings.  A small storage room you could either add yourself without too much trouble, or just purchase or rent a neighboring stall.  That'd run you an extra 10 silverbards opening cost, and 1 silverbard more for monthly tariff."

  She ponders your second inquiry, and replies, "Shop assistants?  Well, besides the obvious means of snatching up a vendor from another shop, you could ask around at Brok's Rest or one of the other inns for people looking for work.  You'd probably find more trustworthy help finding someone who's already working a store, and paying them a better wage than what they're earning.  But, that way, they'd be sure to jump ship at first sight of the next merchant that pays them better than you."

[Weivóc'Neán]

He then thinks Hmm, Brok's rest, that sounds like a good place to search, maybe. He then answers her, "Ok, sign me up for one store and a small stall next to it for storage. That was 10 silverbards for the stall opening and 42 silverbards and 7 ods for the shop. I have that with me now." He then pulls out two little sacks full of coins, from one,  he pulls out the 7 ods, from the other, he pulls out 35 silvers bards, he then replaces them back in his cloak, pulls out another, and get the remaining 17 needed silver bards. He then says "Ok, here is the initial cost for all of that, just tell me where to sign, and where to go to check it out, and I will be on my way finally. Also, point me in the direction of Brok's Rest, I'll see what all type of people are there."

[Kelancey the Green]

  "Mm?" Shaegrýn says, drawing her head back sharply.  The concerned scowl returns to her face.  "I don't think I explained that right, young man.  The taxes and tariff are paid up front.  If ye want the shop and the side stall to begin with, that'll run you 60 silverbards, 97 sans."

[Weivóc'Neán]

"I'm sorry madam, so many different figures to keep up with, and my brain has several things it thinking about." He then pulls out 3 sacks with coins, from one, he takes 18 more silverbards, from another, he takes about a copperbard, and from the third he takes out 4 ods. "I believe this si the right ammount?"

[Kelancey the Green]

  The old woman winces, adding sums in her head, then scribbles some numbers on her page.  Her tongue protrudes from her lips, reminding you of a lysh pike just hauled out of the Teiphra River.  Her eyes go wide then, which only further enhances the mental comparison to that eel-like fish.  Finally, she draws a sharp breath through her semi-puckered lips.

  "Here's what I'm gonna do," she starts, leaning over the table once more.  "You give me 62 silverbards.  I give you back 3 sans, and your costs are covered.  61 silverbards, 97 sans paid to the Town Registry.  Thank you for paying your taxes on time.

  "Now, you'll need to talk with the constable over there, leaning against that beam.  He's gonna help you oust the fella who's occupying your shop at present; hasn't paid his taxes in 3 months, so he's out on the street.  Best of luck, young man!"

  Immediately, she gazes through you to the person standing behind you.  She quickly draws an immense breath, and summons a voice which is frighteningly loud for a woman her size: "NEXT!"

[Weivóc'Neán]

After he pays her and takes the paper, he walks away from the desk with the irritable woman occupying it, and heads to the man she pointed at. Once he is next to him, he looks at the paper and sees an address. He then says to the man, "Hello, the lady at the registry table just filled out the papers for my new shop and stall at I'm guessing this location." He shows what he thinks is the address to the man. "She told me that you were to help me with it currents occupants that hasn't paid in a while." He then awaits the mans response, ithdrawing the paper after h looked at it.

[Kelancey the Green]

  You address your comments to a sullen man, bedecked in a grey jerkin and leather hood and mantle.  The air of melancholy predominates your first impression of him, almost depressing your mood as your speak to him.  So much so, in fact, that at first glance your clever eyes miss the wicked-looking morning star he rests his right arm on.

  Showing him your property deed, you address him, “She told me that you were to help me with the current occupants that haven't paid in a while.”  He silently scans the paper, already knowing what his job will be in this instance.

  He shrugs silently, and hefts his massive mace in the cradle of his right arm.  He sighs with great effort, “Let’s go, then.”

  You follow him as he plods out of the Town Hall toward the southern district of the city.  After walking what would have been an invigorating jog, if you were accompanied by anyone more spirited than this fellow, you reach what presumably will be your shop: A simple, one-story building, with a bright red and white-striped awning over the front door.  A similarly-patterned wooden stall with a red and white-striped front has a few bats’ wings and dessicated frogs on display for the public.  The newly-painted lettering on the shingle hanging from the awning reads, “Treloth’s Simples & Bezoars”, with a stylized representation alongside the words portraying magical-appearing stones and flasks.

  The sullen man, who still has not introduced himself to you, trudges into the store and addresses the storekeep, “I’m here to collect your rent.”

  The shopkeep looks up from his trinket he rolls from one hand to another, astonishment draped upon his face.  “Has it been that long?  Oh, goodness, I hadn’t realized.  Can His Lordship grant me an extension on my lien?”

  The somber man responds, “Nope.”

  “Oh, please, kind sir, I’ve only the earnings from this shop to support my family, and my poor ailing grandmother, and my rheumatism in my leg—oh, please, won’t you just have mercy on a poor, ailing man?”

  The sullen man replies, “Nope.”

  The shopkeep is now actually in tears, wiping his face and wringing his clothes in his fists.  “But what will I do?  I’ve nowhere else to go!  I can’t make it if I can’t sell my wares!”

  The sullen man finally shows the slightest inkling of a sign of human compassion in his face.  “My horse’s dead, from drinking himself to death last month.  My hovel burned to the ground ‘cause I left the fire burning this past Turning Star, so I slept in the stables where my horse was kept.  That is, until my horse drowned himself in his trough, so now I’m sleeping outside the city gates every night till I can muster the funds for a pigsty to rent.  My wife left me for a jester with a traveling band of jongleurs.  I haven’t even the coin to buy a drink to drown my sorrows.”

  The shopkeep picks up on hearing this.  “Well, I have two copperbards to rub together.  Would you care to help this poor, ailing man drown his sorrows at Brok’s Rest?”

  The sullen man replies, “Yep.”  The two men trudge together in the direction of Brok’s Rest, leaving your shop empty for you to move in.

[Aváíyá Enayái]

Aváíyá followed the man without much complaint; she had forgotten that the she to go the registry, so that this man took the time was just out of pure luck. Again upon entry the place was filled with people waiting in lines, her eyes searched the area for the person the man had talked about which wasn’t hard considering the fine clothed people by the desk, she moved to the registry, she’d need a home first. She was waiting in line until she finally got to the desk.

“I’d like to be a citizen here, I’ll be opening a shop soon time later on and I’d like a small house right now.”
Aváíyá was always straight to the point which stopped a lot of questions from being asks, something she didn’t need. Now leaning on the desk and turning slightly, Aváíyá pointed towards the treasury desk.

“Is that Dassrýn? I heard she could be of use to me?”
She turned back to the lady and waited on an answer, she wondered what the women would think since she didn’t have her hood covering her.

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