"In a minute!" someone called from inside, but really, it only took twenty seconds before the door opened. "Can I help you?"
"Ma'am, I'm here to inquire about the mansion. Word has it that you're selling?"
"You're one of those wild girls, aren't you? The one staying at the Meadows House?" the woman inside peered at her. "Is it Mr. Meadows who wants to buy this mansion?"
"Uh… no, it's not him…"
"Is it Charlie, then? That boy must have struck it rich by now…"
"Not exactly, it's a friend of his…" Mindy wasn't sure how to tell the woman that it was she herself who wanted to buy the mansion. "Anyway, could you maybe just tell me how much you want to sell it for?"
"I'm afraid I can't do that." She shook her head. "You'll have to get your boss to talk to my husband directly."
"My… boss…?" Mindy winced. "Is your husband in?"
"No, he's at…" she hesitated. "Blackram Market."
"Blackram…?" Mindy thought back over all the malls she'd been to in Ashdale. She'd never come across Blackram before. "Where is it?"
"It's… under White Sheep Market." She hesitated. "Just look for the sign of the black sheep."
"Right. That's easy enough." Mindy figured. "I'll… go tell my boss."
White Sheep Market… that wasn't too far away. It was a farmer's market, really, a prime source of cheap agricultural produce. People also traded tools, livestock, practical clothing and the occasional snack from street stalls around a public square.
Mindy found the sign of the Black Sheep easily enough. It was hanging above a tavern door at the square. The sound fo clinking gla.s.s and raucous laughter could be heard inside. "Uh… maybe I shouldn't go in there alone…"
She came back an hour later with Alex, Gammie and Sandra.
"What are we doing here, again?" Gammie yawned.
"We're protecting Mindy. Phoebe said she'd kill us if anything happened to her." Sandra said.
"That's nice of her." Alex grunted.
"She also said not to let you overexhaust yourself. Remian exhausting himself into a coma is bad enough. If you do that too…"
"I'm not Remian. There's no need to worry too much about old me." Alex barked a laugh. "But if you're so worried about my health, then why am I here? And why am I wearing all these fancy clothes?"
"You're our figurehead. We're going to pretend that you're really the buyer and we're just accompanying you." Mindy explained. "Because I have the feeling that the seller simply won't take me seriously."
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Alex grimaced. "So… I'll have to take point, then."
"Please do."
"Right. Follow me." Alex went in.
They walked into a tavern. It was a dimly lit place, with men dicing at a wide barrel table, drinking at another, and a pair of worn-out looking waitresses cleaning a third. Mindy looked around, then scratched her head. "We're looking for a Mr. Thompson."
"Right." Alex went over to the bar. "I'm looking for Mr. Thompson."
The barkeeper frowned. Bald, big, and rather round, he puffed out his cheeks and said, "There's no Mr. Thompson here."
Alex hesitated, then pulled out a ten lir coin. "Are you sure?"
The barkeeper eyed the coin, but didn't take it. "Quite sure."
Mindy slipped a 50 into Alex's other hand. Alex kept the 10 and showed the 50 instead. "Could you just check, in case?"
"Ask about the Blackram Market." Mindy whispered to Alex.
"He's not here." the barkeeper said, still hesitating.
"What about the Blackram Market? Can you tell me how to get there?" Alex asked then.
At that, the barkeeper glanced about, swiftly nabbed the coin, then said in a low voice. "Stairs at the back go down as well as up. Take the second door."
"Thank you." Alex said politely and made his way to the back. Doing down a short way, there was a corridor with four doors on the right, and one more at the far end.
Pus.h.i.+ng the second door open, they found yet more stairs leading downward. Those stairs led to…
"A waterway?" Mindy blurted when they reached the bottom.
Yes, the stairs led to an opening out to a wide waterway, with some iffy-looking wooden structures piled up like a wooden village around the sides and across it. Mindy took one look and realized what those structures were. "Shops…? They're selling weapons!"
Not just weapons, but at this time, it seemed that at least three out of four visible shops were selling firearms, blades, explosives or armor of some kind. A few were selling scrolls and magic items. One was offering rune-crafting. Two more looked to be selling chemicals of some dubious nature. Others were selling stuff Mindy couldn't even identify.
The sign of the black ram, however, was only over the nearest shop, the one right at the foot of the stairs. It looked to be a continuation of a bar, except that it had three stalls all to itself, and only one of them sold food and drinks.
The second one sold weapons. The third one sold tickets. There were a list of cities and schedule times listed on a board.
"I told you, we only sell in bulk." The weapon-seller was saying to a thin, wary n.o.ble. "You'll need to buy in lots. That's one hundred rifles in a box."
"What am I going to do with one hundred rifles? I only need twenty!" the n.o.ble grouched. "Do you know who I am? I am Lord Edmund Thompson!"
"Right now, you're just another black sheep looking for a deal, same like everyone else here. There are no ident.i.ties. I don't want to know who you are, and you don't want anyone else to know either!" the seller said, eyes narrowed. "Is that clear?"
Thompson bit his lip, turning a bit red.
Mindy nudged Alex.
Alex cleared his throat. "Well, it so happens that I actually know who you are, Lord Thompson. I came here looking for you."
Thompson jumped, yelping, falling over his own feet. He flailed, struggling to pull out an ornate jeweled pistol…
Mindy s.n.a.t.c.hed it out of his hands and said, "Relax. We just want to buy your mansion. We came to ask how much you want to sell it for."
It took a moment for the inquiry to register, and then Thompson snorted. "Hmpfh! You should have just asked! There was no need to scare the daylights out of me!"
"Sorry." Mindy said apologetically. "So… the price?"
"Fifty million!" Thompson announced.
"So much for the price being dirt cheap." Mindy shook her head. "We're out of here!"
"Wait! Wait, wait… I'll offer you a discount! Half-price."
"Let's go look at the shops around here." Sandra suggested. "They kinda look interesting."
"I don't know. I don't want any trouble." Gammie said.
"T-ten million! That's very cheap already!" Thompson tried again.
"What about this shop right here? Our troops still use crossbows. What if we bought them firearms instead?" Mindy suggested. "We could use a hundred rifles."
"Five million! That's as cheap as a commoner's manor!" Thompson barked.
"Do we have the budget for that? Rifles AND a manor?" Sandra scratched her head.
"Actually, we have a sale on military surplus." The weapons seller now turned to Mindy, completely ignoring Thompson. "The Ashdale army wanted to modernize their equipment, so old-style muskets are going cheap!"
"Muskets? Can I test one?"
"F-four million! I'm not going any lower!" Thompson yelped.
"Sure. Here you go." The weapons seller handed it to Mindy.
"What kind of man hands a loaded musket to a teenage girl?!" Thompson gaped.
"There are no ident.i.ties here. Just black sheep." Mindy reminded him.
"Girl after my own heart, that one." The weapons seller confided in Alex.
Mindy aimed the musket at the water and pulled the trigger. There was a short pause, then…
BANG! Splas.h.!.+ A small fountain erupted in the murky underground waterway. A piece of driftwood broke apart.
"And how do you reload it?" Mindy asked.
"Ball and powder… make sure it's dry, now… use this rod to stuff it…" the weapons seller demonstrated.
"That's slow. It's hardly worth the weight of carrying around." Mindy grouched. "Our runic crossbows reload faster, and hit with more punch."
"Ah, but can you afford the bolts? This here ball and powder is cheap, and almost as good at killing." The seller pointed out.
"Still. The reload time is too slow, the weight is too bothersome, and the accuracy is… well… I get the feeling it's actually lower than a crossbow's."
"Three million! Three million, and the manor is yours!" Thomson sweated.
"You want something lighter, more accurate, and easier to reload, eh?" the seller mused. "That's basically a rifle, you know? We actually do have some of those old flintlocks in our military surplus… but they're going to cost more."
"Range?"
"Two hundred meters, easy. Four hundred, if you don't mind a little inaccuracy."
"Got anything better?"
"Well… we actually have a batch of Calishers. Know what those are?"
"Not really. Can you explain?"
"Those are rifles that are loaded from the back. Breech-loading types."
"Can you show me?"
"Like this." The man brought one out and demonstrated by loading it. "Pull back the handle to open the chamber, put the bullet in there, close it back, flick that, and you're ready to shoot."
"Range?"
"I could hit a buck with one of these at three hundred meters. It usually hits with enough power for a kill shot. Rumor has it there's a guy managed to kill someone at 1000 meters with one of these, but I can't say if that's true or not. It could be."
"I like these." Mindy glanced at Alex. "Let's get these."
"Two and a half million!" by now, Thompson was all but tearing his hair out.
"Hold on a second." Mindy requested, then turned to Thompson. "Make that two million lir, and you've got a deal."
Thompson stared at her, eyes almost red. He didn't say anything for a moment, then reluctantly stretched out his hand. "I want cash. Bank notes, up front. And I want twenty of those rifles."
Mindy shook it. "You've got a deal. I'll come by the house in an hour for the deed."
Thompson walked off stiffly. Mindy watched him go, then turned back to the weapons seller. "How much for a hundred of these rifles?"
"Three hundred thousand lir. That's as low as I can go."
"I want two hundred."