“West Wing Distributions.”
“Is it tacky?”
The man that called himself Condor mused to himself, flipping a pen in his hand. With how distracted he was, I almost expected him to toss it into the dirt. We’d been spitballing names for a while; With more poor sods under his belt, he was considering making a proper name for the collective of us.
“Tacky? No.. It suits you,” I try to offer. Beroe came up with that one, he said, wanted to give us a proper place to work in Moonflower instead of the little stand I work daily. Condor only nods in response, mumbling to himself, before pulling a map out from his notebook and handing it off to me. My brows raise- “What’s this?”
“The sea.” He so-very-helpfully offers, rounding me as I spread open the map. Indeed it is, a sketched map of the Emerald Steppes and the Winterlands with the sea between. I feel myself start to sweat as he points. “Yer a mariner, right? Whatcha know about traversing icy waters?” The man taps a port.
“... Yea… Well. First of all,” I place the map down against a counter. Condor follows to lean over my shoulder.
I point, “You're not gettin’ any big ships in or out of Moonflower like this. Not unless you build the port up here-” The northern plains where the deer girl hadn't spread forestry yet. It wasn't far north, and would be ideal for farmers to transport shipments- Plus, lots of space to store cargo.
“Or over here.” A private island at the edge of Moonflower, just above Eastlake. It'd be the perfect hub to intercept cargo shipments and make some more tax for transports down to Eastlake.
“Can't,” Condor stops my train of thought from running too far too soon. “That's a gravesite.” He redirects my attention downwards, pointing to… a beach on the southern end of the island. Trails his finger from the northern canal, past Eastlake’s port to another canal leading into Moonflower. My brows furrow.
“... Y’can’t be serious.”
He pats my shoulder. “Mayor wants it there.”
I stare at the map. He points again,
“Artisans and farmers get a market throughout all’a here. And this little harbour’s gonna get built,” He circles with a finger, “Eastlake handles the big shipments. We export, do local trade with them. We only have to worry about the little boats.”
“They'll charge us a fortune on imports…"
“Up here-” My attention is redirected back to the icy waters. “Glacikaldr. Hosting, eh, WWD up there for now- Juuuust my little pet project,” He raises a hand as if to appease me, for some reason. “Out of my own pocket. Nothing fishy.”
If you asked me, Condor was more stupid than fishy. He then clears his throat, “But you tell me- How’d you get a ship up and down through here?”
I grumble, scratching my head. “... We didn't handle that. They'd use an icebreaker, we jus’ follow the canal.”
“Glacikaldr to… Westwatch, New Glint, Heathrest…” Down to Eastlake, and then, “Moonflower.” He grins as though he were proud of his work. “How’s you feel about becomin’ a mariner again, Nasir?”
“You pay me and my son plenty to stand here and sell junk, I’m fine.” Folding the map back up, Condor goes to take proper stock of the wares before he leaves. I have to scoff, “I wouldn't put it there!”
Sighing, Condor turns. “Listen, 's hard enough trying to beg Beroe to charge taxes. We let too much traffic in and Moonflower’ll be too big fer her to handle.” He raises his hands as though it'll convince me. It does not.
“If all we gotta worry about’s a little port and what the citizens can afford, all the better. Plus, we get to monopolize trading our own goods by ship with Woods’ Edge. Easier this way.”
He grins.
The discussion ends there. I have to wave the boss out of my shop as quickly as I can when an adventurer comes to pick out rations and stones for their blade.
As he had been, Condor had just started talking to himself about Moonflower potentially doing business with the bandit camp across the lake. The look on the adventurer’s face was making it feel like it'd be bad for my business if he gave it anymore thought around my shop.
