Frostbound

The Admiral

"We, the representatives of Sea Breeze Merchant House would like to meet with the leader of New Norfolk. Do you know where they are so we can discuss future cooperation?" The blueish-green human was looking for him and he didn't know why.

After being swamped, the Merchants had cleared a path and split up to go in different directions. The Admiral knew from their dress and insignias that they were all not of the same Faction which made them splitting up unsurprising.

It was just that he didn't understand why.

The small group with Mountain emblems and a coloring of rich browns went off to the East where he knew the leader of Mountainside lay. The Grass Sea Trading Group went off to where the Heartlands Alliance Lay.

And now, the Sea Breeze Merchant House was looking for him, when his City was located conveniently on the coastline.

The Admiral didn't immediately go out to meet with the alien but tried to think through what had just happened. So much had happened he wasn't exactly ready for another bombshell to be dropped so soon.

Like alien Merchants being teleported in.

"Sir," an advisor came up to him, "The volunteer has come back and said that they can re-enter anytime they wish until the timer is up."

Perfect!

Some good news finally. No one was sure if first entering the Reward Space would be a one-time thing or not. This way they could find out what these First Trading Rights were and if the Merchants were telling the truth.

"Do we have the information yet?" The Admiral asked.

"We do," the same advisor handed over a red tome titled, 'Merchant Connections to the newly Integrated.', "The researchers have already parsed through it and haven't located any falsities. It doesn't hold that much specific information and is more general, but from what we gathered, the Merchants were truthful."

"So they truly are here in a pure capitalist intent?" The Admiral asked.

"From what we can gather, yes."

"Does the book hold anything else I should know?" The Admiral asked. He didn't have the time nor the skills to read the book right now. He would eventually, but he had a lot more pressing concerns to deal with in the next twenty-four hours.

"One other thing of note is First Trading Rights are usually purchased by a single Merchant Group or Trading House through a bid of some sort. It seems like the ones we got are a conglomerate of many, smaller Trading Houses pooling together." The advisor said.

"So they're separate, but technically working together?" He asked.

"Yes."

He thought for a moment before nodding, "Alright, send him in."

The Admiral had been briefed by economic advisors on how to handle this meeting already and daylight was wasting.

The slender, off-colored human soon entered into the tent set aside for diplomatic meetings. The man looked like a normal human proportion wise. A bit on the shorter side but had everything else normal. Two arms and legs. Two eyes and one nose.

Everything except for his color and his eyes were normal. Both were clearly otherworldly.

"Hello, I am Trevarian, Merchant Head of the Sea Breeze Merchant House sent here. It's a pleasure to meet you." Either through research ahead of time or some other reason, he stuck out his hand in a normal handshake greeting.

The Admiral wasn't thrilled to touch hands but had to anyway. Poison is both easier and harder to deal with. With stats, skills, and possible alterations, the threat of poison could be diminished, not to mention healing skills. The flip side to that was with Professions, skills, and otherworldly plants and animals, poison could be insanely more deadly. It was a toss up. The Admiral didn't like toss ups.

"You may call me The Admiral." He answered, "I've heard you've been looking for me."

"Correct." Trevarian nodded, "As you know, without the ability to set up our own Civilization Pylons, we must rely on those run by natives for access to amenities and protection."

"And you want to use mine?" The Admiral surmised, "Am I supposed to think choosing my City, which sits on the Coast, is a coincidence?"

Trevarian shook his head, "It is not a coincidence. You have the highest leveled Pylon that matches our specialty. It is obvious why your City was chosen just like why the Frost Rose Emporium only has one choice."

He wanted to say 'And if I say no?' but he guessed what the answer to that would be. He also didn't want to come off as instantly hostile either. There were too many unknowns for him to feel comfortable inviting in otherworlders, but he didn't have a choice.

He could either say yes, and gain whatever benefits he could, or they would find someone else who would.

"How would this agreement work?" The Admiral asked instead, "I won't allow you to undercut our industries." They possibly had entire cities or planets to call on for supplies and with that kind of ability, there would be no way the barely rebuilt industries of Earth would be able to compete.

If that happened, all manner of resources and coins would be sucked out and transferred to wherever these aliens called home. The opportunity to build wealth would be a lot harder, near impossible.

"You don't have to worry about that." Trevarian said, "Anything produced locally will be much more affordable than what we can provide. Unless it's wildly overpriced, of course."

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The Admiral was skeptical.

"You've used the pylon shop, yes?" Trevarian asked, "You know how expensive it costs to buy things from far away?"

"Yes, I do," He answered. It was the only reason Traders still formed caravans and built ships. It was cheaper to move the goods manually than to buy through the shop.

"Moving supplies from planet to planet is exorbitantly expensive." Trevarian said, "The transfer costs alone will make anything you produce locally much cheaper by a significant margin. To undercut you, we would have to sell at a massive loss when there is no need to do so."

"Alright," He said slowly, "What would future cooperation entail?"

"That part is rather simple." Trevarian said, "We ask to be allowed to construct a Trading Hall inside your City, preferably in the Inner City but that part is more preference than requirement, and protected from outside threats. Additionally, we ask to be linked to your Civilization Pylon so that our Shop can house Market Terminals.

"In doing so, we will be subject to any taxes you set and allow you first refusal to match any offer on any outside goods we bring in and sell."

Is this an elaborate spying operation? Are they reporting back what we do and what we make? How strong we are and how large our military is?

It was hard not to think about the possibilities as they were woefully ignorant of what was even possible.

"I will need to think about this," He said. This wasn't something he would be able to decide right now, let alone by himself. While he was in charge, this wasn't his area of expertise.

"That's perfectly understandable," Trevarian said cheerfully, "You may call for me when you wish to speak again."

They said pleasant goodbyes and after the man left, The Admiral slumped back into his seat. Not only do I have to prepare for War, but now I need to consider aliens as well. What has my life turned into?

Every strategic advisor or long-term military man he had in his chain of command knew that War was imminent. The blow everyone received and the massive losses from the test only delayed the inevitable.

War between Factions was coming and he needed to be ready. Not only that, but future tests loomed. It'd be years until those came to the forefront, but based on how bad this one was, they needed to prepare earlier rather than later.

He sighed deeply.

An aide came in to pull him away from his thoughts, "Sir, a Christopher Zalenski is here to see you."

Luckily, they were trained and knew him well enough that he didn't even have to ask for the intelligence report they had on the man as it was already being handed to him.

~~

Christopher Zalenski, Designation: Iceman

Faction: Frostheim - Faction Leader

Title: Baron

Class: Heavy Warrior Variant

Profession: Unknown

Level: 100

Highest Stat: Strength Est. 1500+

Laws: Ice - Tier 2. Wind - Tier 2

Mana Cultivation: Stage 1

Body: Stone

Spirit: Anchor Formation

A heavily armored warrior using a large Warhammer. Layer of Ice as well as plate underneath. Creates a domain of ice around him that debilitates anything close.

Categorization: Extremely High strength and High defense Warrior.

Threat Level: Extremely High

~~

There had been some changes from the one he first read about the man. Most were clarifications or edits where they were unsure, but one change did stand out.

Threat Level: Extremely High

It used to only be High. There were only a few others they had knowledge of that were evaluated to have an Extremely High threat level.

After reading through what they had on the man and putting away the paper, he nodded, "Send him in."

The Admiral wasn't excited to have a meeting right after the alien and wished to discuss with his advisors what they should do, but he also needed to know what the man wanted. Spurning him now was not a good decision. Especially with a threat level like that.

The man who walked in was much different than who he remembered seeing at the gathering. The man then was covered in nice furs, stood confidently, and mainly just observed.

The man now was dressed more moderately in soft leathers. He still held a confidence to him, but it was hidden behind a tiredness he didn't have before and it was obvious he was still nursing wounds. The Admiral knew the feeling as he too wished to sleep and see a Healer.

The Warhammer the intel said he wielded was missing and he instead had two axes on his belt.

I'm surprised they allowed him to walk in with them. Weapons of those who came to visit were supposed to be left outside the tent.

"Christopher, it's nice to formally meet you," The Admiral said and they shook. His hands were rough but firm.

"I'm sorry, I don't know your name," Christopher said in response after the handshake.

"The Admiral or just Admiral is fine." He'd been going by it for so long that it felt like his name by this point.

"If that is what you insist, but I'd prefer to call you by name," Christopher said. The man was much larger than the previous alien and filled out the chair much more.

"Fitzwallace." The Admiral said finally. It was his last name but it was what he'd gone by for most of his military career. His first name felt odd to be referred to by.

"Nice to meet you, Fitzwallace." He said sincerely, "I've come for a few reasons."

Straight to the point. Alright then.

"I've met with other Faction leaders before leaving to purchase things that my City does not have and now I've come to you. I can't help but notice the advancements you've made in combining our old technology with magic and have come to see if you're willing to sell any of it."

Is he talking about guns? Or just the electronic devices we've recovered.

Through research, they'd been able to replace electric lightbulbs with magic-powered ones instead. From everyone else using torches and fire for light at night, the Admiral knew they were ahead of the curve.

They'd attempted to get Radios working again but nothing they'd tried had worked. The interference mana provided shortened the range dramatically making them mainly useless and if they did work, the static was unbearable. There was also an issue with someone of sufficient strength causing problems. Scientists believed strong auras could also interfere with the radio waves.

Advanced computers were also something they still hadn't worked out yet, but more simplistic ones were already being tested.

Guns, though, were where most of their efforts lay. Artillery and cannons were something they wanted to outfit their Cities and ships with before any Wars kicked off and the Admiral was not interested in giving them away.

"That depends on what it is you're looking for." The Admiral said, "I won't sell you arms if that's what you want no matter how much you offer."

"I don't want your guns. The lights and other similar devices are what I'm after. Not weapons." Christopher shook his head, "Also, the Formation you use to communicate long distances would help us tremendously as well as ship designs that can withstand aquatic beasts."

How does he know about the Formation?

At first, the Admiral was taken aback by how openly he asked for things. He didn't veil his words or hide anything, he just came right out and said it. Which was... odd.

Plus, he just gave up how much he knew. The Communication Formation was supposed to be a highly kept secret, yet the man obviously knew about it and asked for it openly.

Frostheim's intelligence network is advanced. They'd have to make a note of that for the future.

Is he hiding more? Did he openly state it to throw me off and assume that was all?

"And what are you offering for such knowledge?" The Admiral asked slowly, still debating in his head whether the man was toying with him.

"These," Christopher upended a small pouch he took from his belt and blue-tinted small crystals tumbled out and onto the table.

Mana Crystals.

They were used for power in almost everything they'd built and were extremely expensive. Any they could get their hands on were either being used to power what they had already built or used in research.

The Admiral tried to keep his want for them concealed. Maybe he already knows how much we need them.

"I'm sure we can come to an agreement." He said.

Guns were off the table, but everything else didn't matter that much. Especially if they were getting Mana Crystals in return.