The Slime Farmer

Chapter 111: Is This a Madman?

The fisher's guild building was near the dockyard.

It was one of the largest buildings in the area, the carved motifs surrounding the double doors that led into a foyer indicative of the prosperity of the fishing trade in the Lowpool.

Technically the guild structured the handling of all the marine life that the lake town traded outside the town boundaries. 

The Lowpool was a lake that was deep near the river egress and became shallower at the far end, almost like mudflats where Witchbeds were found. Because of the variance in geology, there was a variety of seafood that could be caught.

All year round, there was shrimp, squid, silver-blue carp, several types of shellfish, the ironhead rockworm, and two different varieties of non-mystic crab.

In the early spring to early summer, lobster, purpleback carp, and green tiger zander abounded. The lobster was not native to the lake, but was captured by the roiling waters of the Treachery from other rivers that connected to the sea.

In the hottest part of summer, sunstripe bass and whiskersnake was plentiful.

In autumn, eel and salmon in great numbers were also washed down the Treachery from the great river. 

The waters of the Treachery were not kind, and the inhabitants of the Lowpool could just pick stunned or injured seafood off the riverbanks in autumn. It was a happy yearly occurrence and Defi had already heard many discussions about anticipating the taste of smoked eel and salmon.

Also, because of the abundance of easily-caught eel and salmon, the diamondcrust crab, the mountain turtle, and the finned watersnake came out of their difficult-to-find burrows to feast on the edges of the river and lake. The three animals were non-mystic but were sought-after ingredients for the autumn harvest feast in the Lowpool. As were several kinds of birds and waterfowl that joined the riverbank frenzy.

Fresh eel was not unpopular either, with grilled eel in savory sauce being a favourite in the autumn.

Natan told him that winter rations for soldiers were often supplemented by local town delicacies, and the Lowpool had a tradition of sending large amounts of smoked eel to all the soldiers that were from the town.

In the winter, the lake and river froze, but the fishers of the Lowpool didn't stop work. Several kinds of fish thrived in the icy waters, and the delicately-flavored bloodfin fish only surfaced during winter. 

In addition, under the ice, or in places where the water did not freeze, there were swarms of tiny crustaceans that the townspeople made into several different kinds of sauces.

Defi learned this through Marte and Grenia. The krilfry sauce that was a staple of his table was made in various households throughout the winter and sold in town or traded to the merchant caravans through spring and summer.

The mystic sable crab could only be hunted by authorized fishers, and could be caught in all months of the year. These crab hunters often found less than a hundred sable crabs a month, only rarely over two or three hundred. Sometimes, a lucky fisherman could find one entangled with his traps or nets. 

These unauthorized catches could be sold to the fisher's guild or eaten but cannot be traded outside the Lowpool.

The fishers' guild bought sable crab by weight, two silver crescents per kilogar. Most dockworkers would only earn that much in a month. And mature sable crab weighed from seven to fifty kilogar. 

The largest ever captured in recent memory was a fifty-two kilogar monster that had a shell nearly two mar across and according to oral record had 'claws the size of an eight-year old child'. It was sold to the old marquis household for five gold solstices some sixty years ago. The old marquis kept it as a pet for several years before it died.

With such abundance from the lake, it was no wonder that the dockworkers Defi knew all wanted to be hired on a fishing boat.

Much of that abundance, and therefore the wealth of the Lowpool, was regulated by the fishers' guild under the authority of the imperial commerce ministry. That abundance and the presence of a commercially-viable mystic beast was the reason a small town like the Lowpool had a stationed commerce ministry representative on the town council.

Defi mentally lifted a toast to Mayor Sorza, who was the elected representative for the administrative branch of the imperial government, for her decades of navigating that morass without losing authority. As far as the information he had looked into went, she was firmly in control of her duties as town leader.

All things taken into account, after all, the fishers' guild would be the single most powerful organization in town.

He stepped up the stone steps to the large open doors of the guild, only to be intercepted not three steps inside.

"Good afternoon, mestre." A young clerk nodded politely if a little tiredly, the words he said many times today smoothly falling from his lips. "Welcome to the guild of fishers. May I assist your business today?"

"Good day, I'm here to meet mestre Erel, an officer of this guild."

The clerk blinked, even as he led the way. "Does he know you're coming?"

"No. I have an introduction letter."

"You're from a caravan?" The young clerk eyed him closely for a moment.

Normally, residents did not need introduction letters, but Defi was new in town and mostly unknown. An introduction letter was too formal for his simple need, especially as all of the people involved lived in the same town. But from his first visit he learned from the guild rumor that the man who oversaw the sales of sable crab in the guild was a formal kind of person.

An introduction letter would be seen in a better light.

He hoped.

"Not from a caravan, I'm afraid." Defi flashed a small smile. "Only just settled in town recently. I hear this building is the oldest in town?"

"Oh, yes it is!" The clerk beamed as he led Defi up the stairs. "It used to be the old town hall, before the new one was built. But the guild expanded the building of course, and the dcor is obviously better now."

"Very beautiful. You know much about the history of the place."

The clerk looked pleased at his comment. "I do work here."

Defi continued. "Are all officers on the higher floor? Mestre Erel as well?"

"Yes. The guild's higher officers are all on the second and third levels." The clerk hesitated, glanced at Defi. "About the head clerkhe's a little moody today"

"I see." For the clerk to warn himwas it too serious? Defi could always return another day. If the man was too emotional, he might be against visitors today. "My need is not so urgent. Will he accept a "

His question was interrupted by a low but entirely audible roar from within the door the clerk led him to.

"Chelua damn you to a bottomless pit!" thundered a voice, too loud to be entirely muffled by the anti-eavesdropping Emblems on the door. "Do you see my face?!"

Another voice sounded, words indistinct but obviously placating.

The clerk paled. He stepped backward and pulled Defi with him. "Sorry, mestre, this is not the ti"

"Do you think this is 'acceptable'?" The voice continued to roar. The door crashed open and the two outside the office froze. "Out, or by the Bridgemaker I will not be responsible for the consequences!"

A tall figure stumbled out, posture horrified and eyes shaking. He quickly regained equilibrium when he saw Defi and the clerk watching and swept past them without another glance, trying to walk fast without seeming to be running.

"Who's that?" Defi voiced the question in low, quiet tones.

"The head clerk's sister's husband. He works in an apothecary company in Agamarl." the clerk whispered back. He whimpered suddenly. "The head clerk's looking for a wife again."

Looking for a what?

Defi wondered if he heard correctly. He was about to clarify when a large man appeared in the still open office doorway.

The man's eyes narrowed on them, the expression made all the more sinister by the reddish inflammation and visible pustules dotted around his bulbous features.

"What." The word was all but spat out.

The clerk could only stare, eyes wide.

When Defi described the man as 'large', he was not referring to the average Ascharonian physique in comparison to the relatively slender Ontrean standard. The man could charitably be called 'overly plump' and soft flesh was bulging in many places because the man, who Defi surmised was mestre Erel, head clerk of the fishers' guild in charge of trade, preferred the fitted garments that were characteristic of Ascharonian northern fashion.

It did not help that he did not have a coat on and the ties visibly could not contain the man's abundance.

Defi put the clues together quickly.

Looking for a wife. Inflamed face. Apothecary company.

He was not someone who would let go of such an opportunity, when it presented itself so adroitly.

"If I get rid of the blisters and rash, will you sign a supply contract with me?"

Defi's words cut off the glaring man as the other opened his mouth, to castigate them for just standing there silently and not answering most likely.

The clerk beside Defi choked in shock and regret. His thoughts were apparent on his face: did he bring a madman into the guild?

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