Merchant Crab

Clovis held the heavy door open for Balthazar and Suze as they stepped inside the circular underground chamber. The windowless room was a vault. Not only because of its underground nature, shape, or reinforced door, but because of its contents.

The merchant marveled with shiny eyes at the even shinier wonders around him as he walked in. Shelves full of gold statuettes and other pieces of art lined the walls alongside large paintings. Large hardcover tomes filled a bookshelf by the opposite side of the room, near a glass cube containing a crown-like helmet. There was even a display case with dozens of flawless precious gems sitting on a velvety pillow.

But despite all those riches and eye-catching treasures, nothing quite widened the crab’s eyes as much as the desk near the center of the room.

Several columns of golden coins sat on the wooden surface, neatly arranged in stacks on one side, and disorganized piles on the other. Barely visible behind the wall of money, a woman in thick glasses sat at the desk, counting and sorting them under the light of a lamp.

As convenient as his Bag of Holding Money was, Balthazar missed the pleasure of marveling at his own coins out in full view in front of him like he used to back at his pond. Seeing those stacks of money like that filled his stomach with butterflies and plastered a big smile on his face. They were almost as impressive as his own money hoard. Almost.

“Woooah…” the young Marquessian girl accompanying the crab marveled as she looked around the vault of treasures.

With her nose nearly touching the glass, Suze eyed a display full of delicate necklaces and rings, her jaw half-dropped at the sight of how big the jewels on some of the pieces were.

“Trust me, I understand the temptation,” Clovis said, walking to the girl’s side. “But I really wouldn’t if I were you.”

He picked up a quill from a nearby table and brushed it lightly against the surface of the glass. A small spark crackled on the feather, setting it ablaze instantly.

“But as with most things, there’s always a trick to it,” the thief said with a smirk as he shook the flame out. “Maybe I’ll teach it to you one day.”

“Clovis,” the woman sitting behind the stacks of coins said as she stood up. “How many times have I asked you to stop burning my quills? And why in the world are you bringing strangers into our vault?”

“Ah, this is Penny, our lovely bean counter and professional worry wart,” said the guildmaster, extending an arm toward the woman. “Fret not, my dear. These are Balthazar and… I’m afraid I didn’t catch your name yet, young lady.”

“No, and I won’t let you steal it either, Mr. Thief,” the child said. “You can call me Suze.”

Clovis chuckled. “I like you! As I was saying, dear Penny, these are Balthazar and Suze, and I’ve cleared them already. I brought them down here so we could discuss business somewhere safe.”

“Fine. Do as you wish,” the woman replied. “You always do anyway. So long as they don’t interfere with my counting, I’ll just keep working.”

The accountant put her glasses back on as she sat down—a pair of thick spectacles with one side adorned by a smaller magnifying lens attached to the rim—and resumed her counting.

“Ah, she’s a darling, really. Just a little uptight about her job,” Clovis said as he threw himself onto a throne-like chair. “Let’s talk business now?”

“Right, let’s do that,” said Balthazar, doing his best to pull his eyes away from the beautiful, shiny coins on Penny’s desk. “So why exactly did you bring us down here?”

The thief sat with his legs over the chair’s arm and began counting with his fingers.

“Well, other than to impress you with a sample of what our operation has, and to give you a show of trust by bringing you to one of our secret locations? Maybe it was because you are now wanted by the guards and the bandits and are on the run from both? Perhaps it was also so we could talk privately without the risk of some sneaky cat eavesdropping on our conversation.”

The crab rolled his eyes. “Alright, fine, I get it. Still, why trust me at all and bring me here? You just said so yourself, the bandits have no love for me. Aren’t thieves and bandits basically cut from the same cloth?”

With a dramatic flair, the guildmaster stood up from his cushioned seat and placed a hand on his chest while expressing wounded pride.

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“Same cloth?! How could you ever think that? Theirs would be dirty burlap used as sacks for potatoes, while we would be like smooth satin made to touch only the finest of skins.”

The crab and the girl exchanged a slightly embarrassed glance at one another. Words weren’t necessary to express their shared thought: “A bit over-dramatic.”

Clovis dropped into the chair again. “No, I assure you that we are nothing like bandits, and that we share no love for each other. A bandit will corner you in an alley and take your coin by force. A thief will take your coin the proper way, by picking it from your pocket in the middle of a busy market without you even noticing it. A bandit brute would kick the door down and pillage a poor farmer’s house for a cabbage and two turnips. A proper thief will sneak into a baron’s mansion like a shadow and work their safe to extract profitable riches. We are not the same.”

“You’re all still kinda just… criminals,” Balthazar said with a shrug.

“Certainly,” the larcenist said with not a hint of shame or offense at being called a criminal. “But we set ourselves apart by having morals, and above all else, higher standards. We’re professionals, bandits are just common rabble.” He punctuated his statement with another shiny smile. “Which is why I want to help you.”

“So you can help yourself,” the crab said.

“You got it!” exclaimed Clovis. “There is usually a balance to these things. Bandits stay in their lane, doing petty crimes and being their usual unwashed selves, while we remain at the top of the criminal food chain, where we belong. Lately, however, someone started disturbing this natural order.”

“Her,” Balthazar said with disdain.

“Bingo, my eight-legged friend! Suddenly bandits were pulling off heists they never did before, getting way too bold, and—as much as I hate to admit this—even achieving feats the Thieves Guild never could. The biggest one being them getting the city guard on their side. We knew there was no way common bandits were behind all that.”

The crab’s eyestalks rose as the conversation developed, anticipation growing in him. “So you started looking into who was behind it, like I’ve been doing?”

“Sure did,” the human said. “It wasn’t easy, and took a lot of digging, but eventually we found the source.”

“So you found who was behind all this?! Who is she?”

Clovis’s smile faded slightly and his eyes wandered around to the ceiling as he answered. “That… we don’t know yet.”

“Oh, come on!” the exasperated crab said, throwing his pincers up.

“Unfortunately, whoever this mysterious woman is, she’s very good at staying in the shadows, even by our standards. But we did manage to find her lair.”

Some hope reignited in Balthazar and he quickly reached into his backpack for the map Suze had borrowed from Onion Jake’s place.

“We got this from the bandit leader,” the crustacean said, showing Clovis the map. “It seems to mark a lot of their secret locations. We’ve checked a few, but so far no sign of the stolen mangoes. Is any of these locations the place you found?”

The guildmaster looked at the map with interest. “No, but that’s unsurprising.”

“It is?”

“Yes. They are not taking the stolen cargo to any of their stashes. Remember, they are all working for someone else. An external figure. They are taking the product to her place.”

“Oooh,” the crab said with a nod. “But if you already know where that is, why haven’t you done anything?”

“Like what? Report it to the guards?” the thief said with a sassy smirk. “Or maybe break into the place and steal several tons of mangoes? Not exactly our kind of target. I honestly wouldn’t even know who to sell them to, which is one of the things that’s been puzzling me this whole time—who is ordering the stealing of all these mangoes, and what for?”

“But then why are you telling me all this?” the merchant asked. “What do you want from me?”

Clovis smiled once again. “Isn’t it obvious? We want the bandits back in their lane. You and the mayor want this mango issue resolved. I provide you with the information, you take care of it, we all win.”

Balthazar pondered for a moment. He wasn’t one to usually trust thieves, but his reasoning was sound. If nothing else, the merchant could trust the guildmaster’s self-interest.

I guess the enemy of my enemy is… another client.

“But wait,” said the crab, “I take care of it? You’re not going to help?”

“Haha, my friend, we’re thieves, not warriors or mercenaries. I’m helping by providing vital intel. The rest is up to you. I don’t get my hands dirty.”

The crustacean frowned. “What kind of thief doesn’t get his hands dirty?”

“A very clever one,” the guildmaster said with a mischievous smile.

“You know what? Never mind. Just tell me where the mangoes are, so I can be done with this mess and get my reward.”

Clovis placed a finger on the map, pointing at a spot outside the edge of town.

“Damask Manor. That is where you will find the mangoes. And the one behind their theft.”

“So that is where we’ll go,” Balthazar said with a nod. “I don’t suppose I can convince you to help us at all, can I?”

“If it involves my guys interfering directly? No. But everything else? I’m willing to consider it, if it will help you rid our dear city of this bandit uprising so that we can return to the usual way of things.”

Balthazar eyed a particular display sitting at the top of a shelf behind the guildmaster’s chair. It held a pristine piece of rolled-up parchment that the crab knew all too well. A Scroll of Potential.

It was the merchant’s turn to smirk.

“There might be something you could do to help…”