Surprisingly well

"Hey, boss." Zed walked over to his boss, who was counting the same stack of gold coins he'd been staring at for the past ten minutes.

The old coot shot his employee a disgruntled look. "What? Have you finished packing away our stuff? You know I'm not trusting those country fucks to keep my stuff safe, so don't you lock my stuff up with them."

"I didn't sir, the new guy just registered us to go in. We're ready to head to the inn whenever you are. Although..."

The conman looked back at Zed, his ears perking up. "What?"

"The night's still young, sir. We have time to take a look around here, see if they have anything fun to do."

The old merchant rolled his eyes. "Do you really think there's anything but shitty whiskey and cheap day hookers in this place? We're probably the only people with any class within miles of here."

"Then don't think of it as us having fun, think of it as us doing the all-important research that we'll ensure we bleed these suckers dry as fast as possible." Zed grinned. He knew exactly what he had to say to get the old man on his side, and that was to mention money and demean as many people as possible.

And it worked. The merchant smiled and put his arm around the boy's shoulders. "Now you're thinking like a businessman, kid. Maybe it wasn't a waste to pick you up, after all." Zed held back the urge to punch the man in the gut and just **** out a smile. "So, where are these guys hanging out, anyway?"

Zed pointed to a small shack to the east of the caravanserai, saying, "They've got a merchant pub over there. Not the best ale, but decent entertainment on good nights."

"Are you sure we should be checking out that place?" The merchant grimaced. "It looks so filthy and... structurally unstable."

"It's for research, sir," Zed replied ushering his boss towards the "building," "How else are you going to tell these people how bad their lives are if you don't see it for yourself?"

The merchant nodded at the admittedly good point and started walking to the shack. Zed turned around to look at L'abbee, who was hiding among the boxes at the registration desk and rolled his eyes at the drow's skittishness. You'd think he'd never stolen something before. The boy shot his partner in crime a thumbs-up and pointed towards the box of chips. The plan would only work if their stuff was actually registered with the merchants' association, so L'abbee would have to handle that himself. Even for him, it should be fine, at least Zed hoped it would.

The two merchants walked through the doors of the shack and were immediately hit with the off-key sound of a broken concertina and the stale smell of fermented beer. Zed actually gagged when he opened the doors but fought the urge to vomit and kept a straight face for his boss. "Quite the quaint place, ain't it?"

"Ugh, it's so uncivilized." The merchant replied. "We'll be doing them a favor, making it so places like this are rid from the world."

Zed simply nodded as the two men sat down at a table in the far corner of the bar. A barmaid, evidently the only one in the establishment, came over to them and said in a lilting country accent, "What can I do you boys for, tonight?"

The merchant audibly groaned, but Zed replied. "Two glasses of your strongest stuff, please." He looked up at the barmaid and tried to avoid looking at the massive cleavage in her dress that left nothing to the imagination.

"Coming right up." The waitress turned around and bounced away. Zed worried that her dress wouldn't be able to hold her boobs if she ran like that, but evidently, his boss didn't share his reservations.

"I'll bet you I can take her for all she's worth first." He chuckled at the insinuation. "I'd love to see her barter with me with that dress of hers. I bet it's the only thing she owns, the peasant slut."

Zed nodded, clenching his fist under the table. He knew for a fact that the man had likely spoken about Zed's own friends and family with the same dismissive attitude, and it enraged him to imagine this old fuck ogling his mother or sister the same way. "Why don't we think about the more immediate future, first, boss." He pointed across the room to a group of drunk guards cloistered around a table. "Why don't you tell me a bit about those guys? You think they'd make good early marks?"

"Oh, yeah. If we can get them to allow the casino in the first place, they'll be some of the first people we get indebted to us." As the merchant started outlining his business strategy to systematically bankrupt the town, the barmaid returned with their drinks.

"Thank you, love," Zed said, picking up the beer glasses and placing them on the table. The next step was crucial. As he put his boss's glass on the table, he gently waved his hand over the rim, and out from his sleeve fell a small amount of powder, disappearing into the **** instantly. "Drink up, boss. Let's at least have a little fun tonight."

The merchant looked at his glass concernedly. "This smells like dog's piss."

Zed took a gulp of his own drink and once again held back his lunch. It was a rancid drink, but he needed his boss to keep it down. The powder would mask the flavor enough, anyway. "Tastes alright to me. You worried it's too strong for you."

The merchant scoffed and lifted up his mug. "You know how well I can keep down my drink, boy. Watch." The man proceeded to down nearly the entire mug in a single gulp. As he placed the mug down, Zed could already see the extract taking effect and his boss started to wobble in his chair.

Zed smiled. "We're going to need another round over here, miss."