Chapter 490: Hard Lessons on the Road

For two hard-working sentient Cave Mantis, the sight of the towering mushrooms of the city were a welcome sight after a stressful journey, but they knew not to let their guards down as they kept the wagons close together and encouraged their guards to be ever watchful. Even this close to civilization the deep roads could be dangerous and experienced caravan leaders never let down their guard. And, despite all of their years working for Cazact, they had learned the hard way that some experiences can only be gained when all the responsibility of a job comes crushing down on you.

This new found responsibility had caused Veem and NotVeem a great deal of stress and anxiety. They had long expressed to themselves that they could run the caravan route by themselves without any help, and that Cazact (who owned the caravan) was barely needed. They were surprised when he had granted their wish by abandoning them in the city of walking mushrooms and gone chasing after a mystery.

Surprised at first, and not believing anything could hold their employers attention so long, they had waited a full day, cutting their departure time as close to the deadline as they could. The time came, Cazact hadn't showed, and strange things were happening in the city. Finally believing that they were in charge, they had rejoiced and went on their merry way, enjoying the adventure of being in command of a string of slow moving wagons owned by several different merchants. Now, several weeks later, they had decided that their past selves were fools. They had learned so much on this last trip, but some of the lessons had been hard.

- Short-cuts take longer, especially those found on maps sold at goblin refreshment stands.

- Check for stowaways after encountering goblin tribes.

- However many tasty snacks you think you need for the journey, double that number.

- Never leave the snack wagon unlocked.

- When the lizard in front won't go into a tunnel, that's a hint.

- Never stop to aid a limping spider.

- Never give a ratkin tribe a discount on bulk cheese purchases. It makes them wonder how much more you have.

- Consult the Old Farmer's Almanac frequently unless you want to be caught in the open when the Fleem Hoppers migrate.

- Take extra axle grease. Squeaky wheels are very dangerous in quiet caverns filled with sleeping Cave Hippos.

They had discovered an endless list of things they should do, not do, do first, do in emergencies, and never think of doing. It was very confusing and they were quite ready to allow Cazact to talk them into letting him be in charge again. It was slightly disappointing not to find him waiting at the space assigned for their caravan. The individual merchants unloaded their wagons partially and went to set up their traditional stands, or rent temporary space. When Cazact didn't arrive, the two mantis began the work of setting up their own merchant stand. This work they knew well and it was a relief to not have to think so hard about every last detail.

After much back and forth discussion, where Veem insisted on doing things as they had always done, and Notveem stressed that Cazact had not sold an item from his 'Collection of Curiosities' in over two years, they agreed to leave the curiosities in the wagon and concentrate on their traditional best-selling items. In this city, that was mulch, mulch enhances, flavorful top-mulch, medicinal mulch, and hats. Most myconians didn't bother with clothing, but did like decorations, body paint, and hats. Like all intelligent Mantis, Veem and Notveem were quite proud of their own hats and approved of the choice in attire. Not displaying the poor-selling curiosities gave them more room to display their hat collection, with the many boxes of mulch stacked around their stand.

They worked for hours to get their stand set up, looking forward to brisk business. Mulch products from Bloth were always in demand and sold for high prices. As the cost of buying them in Bloth seemed to increase each trip, so did the price they sold them for. There were complaints, but they they stressed to customers that this mulch was a luxury product imported from a dangerous and far away place. They always sold their stock quickly and easily. It was like selling cheese to Ratkin, also a very profitable endeavor, but one they had been forced to discontinue. One of their markets had been taking over by a spider clan, and the other Hollows near to it were highly suspicious now of imported cheese.

With great anticipation, they raised the cloth curtain on the front of their stand, expecting to see dozens of myconians looking to purchase their fine mulch products. To their disappointment, there were only three. They covered their disappointment and went to work, helping their customers to empty their pockets.

"Greetings, fungus friends! What can Veem and Notveem do for you today? A box of Sleepytime mulch to aid your rest? Perhaps a large box of Numbmud, our popular mix of Blackroot and snail extract, sure to help you forget your troubles and work harder. Or, for those with intense anxieties, we have Mellow Yellow, a mulch made from powful blossoms that will ensure a restful and very long sleep period."

A gnarled myconian beginning to show his years pounded on the counter with a thick arm and large fist. "This one demands two large boxes of WorkWorkWork! " The strength of the blows cracked the wooden counter and Veem hastened to attend to him.

Veem remembered this customer. They were from a small colony of myconians who rooted outside the city and explored caverns looking for new types of dirt and fungus. They also found crystals and ores which other races valued, making them quite affluent. Their preferred mulch was unpopular with other myconians, who preferred to rest each day, something you never did while using WorkWorkWork. It also had side effects of belligerence and paranoia. These qualities were desired when exploring dangerous places, with enhanced survival rates, but made the customers difficult to deal with.

"Certainly sir. I remember you placed a special order with us. The price is slightly higher because it has become a specialty item, but I have your boxes for you."

"Higher? Please to explain higher? This one paid in advance! Price to be guaranteed!"

Veem glared at his partner, who had made the foolish offer. "That is true sir, and the prize is the same. But there is a small fee added to cover the export taxes from Bloth, and the additional costs in transporting it. The cost of fodder for our drudge lizards has doubled. But these are minor things, amounting to only an increase of 50%, which you can pay to us now and we will treat your bill as paid in full."

The myconian let out a high pitched whine of frustration, which turned heads at nearby stands. "To say No!, and to say No! again. Cost was agreed to and paid!" The customer began to argue hotly and it took all of Veem's will to continue to say no and demand the extra money be paid. He glared now and then at Notveem who was having an easier time dealing with the first two customers and others who were attracted by the noise.

"This one wishes to enquire about your Rotwater varieties of finely enhanced mulch."

Notveem shook his head, not knowing at all what Rotwater was. "We do not deal in Rotwater, citizen, and only carry the finest of mulch enhancements"

"No Rotwater?"

"No Rotwater. Perhaps a fine box of Sleepytime mulch with a sprinkling of crushed Bortho Berries? A divine taste that will leave you happy and contented."

The myconian shook his head. "This one does not use fine Sleepytime mulch. It is inferior to basic mulch and Rotwater. Bortho Berries attract poisonous spidermites. This one will purchase mulch elsewhere."

The day progressed this way, with Notveem making few sales, and Veem arguing with his customer for hours. In the end, Veem collapsed, unable to continue and the customer picked up his boxes and went on his way, failing to even prepay for his next order. With heavy hearts and confused heads, the two hardworking business-mantis closed their shop and went out into the city to find out what Rotwater was, and why the market for mulch had changed so swiftly.

They perused the many shops, seeing mostly the same merchandise. The exception was the mulch dealers, of which there were three old stands and seven new. All of them had stacks of barrels with confusing names: Bludgeon Double-Dark, Old Grease Stain, Durbin's Classic Brown Ale, and Bottom-Barrel Second Squeezings. Along with the suspicious barrels with odd names there was the usual assortment of poor to medium grade mulch that normally sold to those who could not afford the upscale varieties imported from Bloth. As they watched, a cart was loaded up with a pile of mulch boxes and sloshing barrels, pulled by a young drudge lizard. A large amount of gold nuggets and shiny crystals changed hands between the happy myconian seller and his buyer, a healthy looking gnome with large muscles and grey skin.

Intrigued, the mantis followed the buyer, trying to not look like they were stalking him for food, and totally failing. Their not-victim turned his head slightly to observe them a few times, but other than that, didn't react. They followed him to a new building with a very large open-air space where myconians sat at tables across from each other as they engaged in conversation. A sign on the front said 'Knock a Few Back'. The barrels and boxes joined piles of similar products at one end. Two ratkin, a human, and three dwarves were working the establishment, tending to customers at their tables and bringing mulch for the boxes under the tables, or strangely, containers filled from the barrels which they poured over the mulch. Trying to get closer to observe, they drew the eye of the gnome who had handled the delivery. He sauntered over to them, thumbs in his belt, with his hammer loose in its sheath.

"Howdy, gents. What can we get for you tonight?"

Veem took the lead, as usual. "Greetings, small sentient. We have been away from the city for some time and are intrigued by changes to consumption of mulch by the myconians. Your establishment seems prosperous. Any mercantile secrets you wish to pass on to us will be rewarded with large smiles."

Butch gestured to the tables. "Not really a secret, hard-working myconians come here to enjoy some relaxation, taking sustenance from tasty mulch while they engage in conversation and games. Feel free to sit down and play a game. We offer both tic-tac-toe and checkers."

Veem pointed at a server, "And the liquid that you offer?"

"We call that beer, or ale, or rotwater. Take your pick. It enhances both the flavor of the mulch, and relieves stress."

Indeed, none of the patrons seemed stressed. Veem had rarely seen so jovial a group of myconians. Generally, they showed little to no emotions. Some were speaking loudly and waving their hands in the air, other emitting the sounds that the mantis recognized as laughter. It was very strange.

"And, as an expert in mulch-dealing, what would you say the value is of more traditional, high-quality mulch, imported a vast distance from the city of Blothmazdan. Asking for a friend."

Butch looked from one mantis to the other. "I take it your friend has just arrived back in town and found the market has shifted and his stock is essentially worthless?"

Notveem sighed deeply, "You confirm what our friend was beginning to suspect. A sad day for him. So very sad."

The gnome also inclined his head in mock sadness. "It is the way of business. The best that your friend can do now is to find anyone willing to buy your stock. Do it quickly before everyone finds out that old mulch is out, and new mulch with Rotwater is what the public demands. Prices on your friends merchandise are dropping rapidly. But you look tired. Please take seats at this table and let me offer you a tankard of our finest ale to wash away your sadness."

Veem hesitated, Notveem took his seat immediately. "I enjoy trying new things. I thank you for your consideration to our friends plight. Does your fine establishment also offer non-mulch food? Perhaps a small, juicy mammal?"

Veem sat down, not wishing to argue in public.

Butch thought through their limited menu, "Mammals....hmm, how about a nice fried chicken. Milo says it's a Rock Hen, but looks like chicken to me."

Veem's eyes narrowed. His last encounter with a rock hen hadn't been enjoyable. The meat had been rubbery and tasteless. "I will have an ale."

Notveem scoffed at his brother, always a picky eater. "Is the fried chicken tasty. I am quite hungry."

Butch smiled and said in a loud voice, "Best damned chicken in the state!" There was much laughter from several non-myconians.

That was good enough for Notveem, "I will have four fried chicken and an ale."

Butch turned to Veem, who ordered conservatively "I will have an ale, and stale bread, if you have any."

"You got it. Four fried chicken, two ales and some pretzels. Coming right up."

The two mantis didn't have long to wait. Several servers brought their food and ales. Veem immediately regretted his decision and negotiated with Notveem for one of his chickens. The meat was tender, but salty. The stale bread was also salty. Their ales disappeared, but were replenished. Several times. At some point, Veem said, "I cannot move my legs."

Notveem agreed, "Nor can I. If we were in Bloth, I would conclude we were being preyed upon and had fallen into a clever trap. But these fellows are so jovial. Let us ignore our legs and have another ale." He'd no sooner said that than the gnome appeared with two large tankards. "Here you go, gentlemen. But may I suggest that after this I have my employees give you a wagon ride back to your home?"

Both mantises nodded and hissed their thanks. "Such a nice person." "Very nice, and we accept and offer you a 10% discount on all of our worthless mulch products that it seems no one wants."

Butch patted Veem on a shoulder, and said, "Oh, you never know. My people have a saying that a sucker is born every day."

Notveem nodded, his head coming near the table. "Yes, we say the same. There is always hope in business, if one can find an unwise customer."

The last ale was quickly consumed and they were assisted in getting home to their merchant stand. Normally, after being away for so long, they would be worried about thieves stealing their stock. That their stand was undisturbed was the last straw. They went to their beds in sadness, praying to the Great Mantis to send them a sucker with pockets full of gems.