Merchant Crab

“Is there anything else you require before starting, Mr. Balthazar?” Baroness Marquessa asked the crab, as they both crossed the guild house’s atrium.

“Well, let me see,” the traveling merchant said while tapping a pincer on his chin and recounting on his head. “I know the ruffians I already met are involved, I know I can’t count on the guards to help, and I know the only contact I can come to is either yourself or your right-hand man, captain…”

“Leander,” the city mayor completed. “Anything you need, he will be authorized to provide, within reason. It’s imperative that your involvement in this remains kept under wraps. I am counting on your wildcard factor as an outsider to tip the scales in our favor against whatever mastermind is behind this. So far they have managed to stay two steps ahead of us while growing their influence, but I have no intention of letting this affront continue. My family did not rule and grow this place into a prosperous city for eight generations just for me to let it fall into the hands of criminal scum now.”

Balthazar nodded along as the woman spoke. Mostly because he dared not defy the intensity in her eyes.

“Right,” he said. “I think before I get started, the best course of action is for me to get to know this city better.”

I have no idea where to even start…

“Indeed,” said the baroness. “A wise starting point, as is to be expected from such a crafty mind as yours.”

“So I’ll probably take the day to explore around, get a feel for the streets and whatnot.”

I wonder if they have more than one bakery in town…

Lady Octavia nodded. “Naturally. Understanding the field is a clever first step. I’m certain that with your instincts you will soon pick up a lead on where to get started. Judging by the tales I’ve heard about you, I have no doubt you will make short work of this issue. After all, a gang of fruit smugglers must seem like an amusing joke to you when compared to going up against a powerful political figure as Antoine was.”

Balthazar forced a grin.

Oh, what am I getting myself into…

The guildmaster turned to the cafeteria area.

“Ah, I suppose we should check on your companions. You must wish to take them with you.”

Peeking past the gold-clad woman, the crab saw Blue and Druma by a table, enjoying their feast of many kinds of meat that the baroness’s staff had provided. The goblin was happily tossing pieces of meat in the air for the drake to catch with her mouth as he laughed and celebrated every successful catch like a scored goal.

They seem delighted to be getting some time off the road and finally enjoying a meal that wasn’t dry.

“Actually,” Balthazar said, “if you don’t mind, I think I’d rather let them stick around here for a little while longer. They deserve some time off while I explore the town.”

The baroness bowed her head slightly.

“Very well. That won’t be an issue. You are my personal guest, and that extends to your companions as well. They can remain here for as long as you need, while you perform your part of the deal. I will have my staff inform them that you will be back later and that they should tend to them like the guests they are.”

With a mutual nod, the woman and the crab split up.

Exiting through one of the three front doors of the guild house, Balthazar shielded his eyes from the noon sun. Now that he crossed the entrance in the opposite direction, the traveler realized just how impressive the view from the city hall was.

From its elevated position, he could see how far the rooftops extended, like a whole urban forest surrounding a river running right through its middle.

Despite his short visit to Ardville, it was clear at a glance that Marquessa was by far the bigger town, both in area, and also vertically, with its myriad of taller houses, towers, and other buildings sticking up into the skyline.

Skittering back onto the town square, Balthazar placed his claws on the sides of his shell as he watched the crowds passing by, the streets now slightly calmer, likely due to most people having gone indoors for lunch hours.

There he was, a lone giant crab with a mission, in a big city, free to explore it in any direction.

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He inhaled deeply.

“I have no clue where to go first,” the traveler said to himself.

As the words came out of his mouth, another sound came from his stomach: a loud, hungry growl.

“Never mind, I think I know where I need to go.”

And with a pep to his step, Balthazar went on to explore the streets of Marquessa.

***

After a few hours wandering, and as the sun quickly made its way to the hills, the crab arrived back at the town square, a few stones heavier, and wiping the corners of his mouth with a napkin.

He had found no leads on the stolen mangoes case, but his investigation had certainly borne other fruits. Mainly the ones in the many sweets he had consumed through the market district.

But it hadn’t all been food tourism for the merchant. He also spent a fair share of time performing market research through the many shops of Marquessa.

Confirming what the mayor had already implied, Balthazar found that the people of this city really were used to non-human races dwelling through their streets and stores. Barely anyone seemed to bat an eye at the presence of a giant crab among their stalls, or browsing through their shelves.

That refreshing feeling, coupled with all the trading in the air, almost made him wish his little pond had existed next to Marquessa all along, instead of Ardville.

The crab had visited blacksmiths, apothecaries, jewelers, and even grocery shops around the market, quickly coming to the realization that the one thing Ardville had over that city was its prices. Everything in Marquessa was far more expensive. At the same time, the general population also seemed wealthier.

Balthazar wondered how much of the higher standard of living had to do with the open trading, or if his little home to the west just happened to be unluckier in its location.

The baroness had told him mangoes were Marquessa’s main product, and she wasn’t exaggerating. Everywhere the crab went he would notice a mango being used as a symbol for something, as a decoration piece, or simply mixed in with whatever was being sold.

Mango in every food dish.

Mango drinks of all kinds.

Buying a hat? Chances were, it would have a little decorative mango on it.

Tailors all seemed to favor clothing in yellows, reds, and greens—a mango’s colors.

Even a statue in the middle of one of the streets was of a man proudly holding a mango in his hand.

Balthazar found it all a bit tacky. Now, a statue of a crab holding up a slice of pie? That would be another story. Perhaps one day…

Despite the heavy mango influence, one thing quickly became apparent to him: there was a clear lack of the actual fruit around their markets.

Fruit sellers had some apples, a few bananas, maybe some grapes, but the larger baskets which would have held their main product were empty. People would pass through the stalls, asking for the famed mangoes of Marquessa, only to be turned away by a resigned shake of the head from the farmer or shopkeeper, lamenting their lack of supply.

Under the buzzing and gossiping of the market, Balthazar caught snippets of conversations, people resenting and theorizing about the disappearing mangoes. After some time spent taking the pulse of the city’s rumor mill, the crab could tell the mayor had good reason to want the problem solved soon, as their impression of her was quickly growing unkind.

“She sits up in her office all day doing nothing,” some claimed.

“I hear her own guards don’t respect her anymore,” another would add.

“Someone told me she had all the mangoes taken to her estate outside the city so she can have them all for herself,” said a woman outside a tea house.

Kicking back on a park bench near the Marquessian river, Balthazar pondered on his next step while digesting his ample sampling of local delicacies.

All he wanted was to nap, especially while hearing the soothing sound of running water coming from the river, reminding him of his dear pond, but he knew he had to take his task seriously.

The mayor’s problem was a pressing matter, that much he understood now, and if he didn’t uphold his side of the deal and come up with some answers soon, he might not get the promised safe passage to the cliffs he needed to reach in order to find Tweedus, and hopefully, an answer to how to repair Bouldy’s core.

How bringing his friend back to life somehow came to depend on finding some missing mangoes, the crustacean couldn’t really explain. Traveling was apparently just full of weird things like that.

Finding a guide, however, was not the only reason why he took the quest from the local guildmaster. Balthazar might have been busy traveling the continent for weeks, far away from his pond, but he never stopped being a merchant, and he knew a promising business opportunity when he saw one.

The baroness seemed to have a very high impression of him—which was obviously entirely warranted given his many impressive merits that were in no way ever exaggerated—and her current conundrum presented the merchant with a golden opportunity to fall into her good graces.

And with that, open trading opportunities with the huge market of Marquessa.

To do what with? Balthazar wasn’t sure yet. He mostly dealt with random junk from adventurers, but he was ready to step up in life, and if that required him to play quest-taker for a bit, that would be a small price to pay.

At least this time he wasn’t carrying a decaying zombie through a forest at night.

As the crab contemplated the dusk sky above with both claws resting over his filled stomach, a sigh left his mouth.

Problem is, I’m a merchant, not a detective. How the hell am I supposed to figure out who’s stealing mangoes in a city this big?

He would need a hand. Maybe two. Preferably with thumbs, too.

Someone who knew the city.

Someone with street smarts.

Someone… affordable.

As the crab tipped his eyestalks forward to stand back up, his gaze spotted exactly who he needed.

Well, well, look who it is…

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