The Strongest Spellblade

“Justin Burnstock?” a young male dwarf with a thin, well-groomed beard asked me in the lobby of the training hall as Healer Melon and I left for the day. “My apologies for the sudden appearance, but my letters requesting a meeting have gone unanswered. I am Rumbar Oakshield, Senior Director of Strategic Planning at Oakshield Corporation.”

“There have been requests for meetings, but they have all been declined as per your instructions,” Healer Melon said, and I nodded at this.

“I am not interested in getting involved in local politics or anything similar,” I replied. I didn’t want to get caught up in any drama. Driving was okay, but dwarven politics was completely different. It was difficult enough to understand human politics, and it was simpler with nobility. The dwarves had councils and corporations, which made their political structure a twisted web.

“Then perhaps a dinner. The Chef’s Pinnacle is the best restaurant in the city, and I have an open reservation tonight. You don’t have to accept my request, I just ask you hear me out,” the dwarf said. We were just planning to go back to the inn tonight.

“I am not suitably attired,” I replied, since I was wearing training clothes. Not official business clothes for a meal in a fancy restaurant.

“I am happy to take you back to your inn if you wish. And you can decide if you want to hear my proposal over dinner,” he said, not giving up. I had to give this Rumbar Oakshield credit for being persistent.

“You have the drive back to my inn to talk with me,” I replied. Since he made this much effort, I wouldn’t reject him.

“Thank you for your valuable time, but I am sure you will be interested in what I have to offer you,” he said with a smile. We left the training hall and got into a magical carriage that he had a driver already inside. We took a seat in the back which was completely separated from the front. The kind I had seen human nobility use and used myself in the past.

“Oakshield Corporation specializes in high volume low tier adventurer equipment. We are looking to launch several new products in the coming year targeting various markets in various human kingdoms. We want you to become our new model for advertising this product launch.”

“Me, why?” I asked while trying to understand what he was asking of me exactly.

“I can see you value honesty. Your mother is quite famous, but her equipment is all custom made. But our stuff at Oakshield is for new adventurers, targeting the tier 1 and tier 2 equipment market. Specifically headwear, armor, boots, and combat gloves that are also rated for processing. The idea being that someone could get our equipment and be fully geared out at that tier in terms of armor,” he explained. I nodded along as the magical carriage drove Healer Melon and myself back to our inn.

“You would agree to use our equipment for the next 20 years in exchange for one thousand gold. We would create a drawing of your image and use your name and appearance in our marketing,” he explained.

“And that would make a difference for you?” I asked, skeptical of his claims. This seemed like a scam to tarnish my name and reputation.

“Marketing and Advertising are skills. They are about selling goods. And you are quite famous among adventurers. The only child of Supreme Warlady Elena and a starting adventurer yourself. Our marketing line would be ‘if the Oakshield gear is good enough for Justin Burnstock, it is good enough for you’. We already have a contract in place with the Adventurer’s Guild,” Rumbar Oakshield explained.

“And you want to give me a thousand gold for this,” I said with skepticism, since it felt low for 20 years. I had nothing to compare this offer to, besides the amount of money itself.

“Yes,” he replied with a solid nod of his head.

“You know my mother wouldn’t endorse your corporation at all,” I replied. Trying to get to my mother through me would only end in tears and death.

“Of course. The deal is for you. Your mother’s gear is not our market segment. Anything tier 3 and higher tends to be custom made. We don’t compete in that market segment. Only lower tier equipment,” he explained.

“Not weapons?” I asked.

“We do that as well, but adventurers are quite picky about such equipment. And you clearly have a well-crafted blade of your own,” he said.

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“What do you think?” I asked Healer Melon.

“It’s a lot of money, but also not that much at the same time,” he replied.

“The thing is no one has done something like this before. While we call adventurers over level 100 legends, translating that fame into money isn’t simple. Your mother is very famous, but she could make a lot of money by endorsing a product,” Rumbar Oakshield explained.

“She would say it is a waste of time, and she can make far more money fighting in the dungeon,” I replied.

“Of course. Of course. Ah, but you would get all the tier 1 and tier 2 equipment you need from us as part of the deal,” he explained. That did make it more tempting, but I had no idea how valuable my image or endorsement would be. The entire deal seemed like some kind of scam. People made goods and other people purchased goods.

Advertising? Marketing? The magical carriage came to a stop at the inn. “I am going to have to-“

“Before you make a decision, perhaps dinner, my treat,” he said. I was about to decline, since I didn’t understand anything about this at all. Getting caught up with a Dwarven Corporation seemed like a bad idea.

“You really are persistent,” I replied as I opened the door.

“My apologies if I am a bit rude, but I see the opportunity to make lots of money together,” he replied.

“I will get changed, then I will have some very pointed questions over dinner,” I replied with a sigh.

“Of course. I am happy to answer any questions you might have to put your mind at ease,” he replied. I went into the inn and to my room.

I got changed and Healer Melon got changed after me since we were sharing a room. I didn’t have anything super formal and dwarven fashion was different from human fashion. They preferred gemstones to show off wealth instead of tight fitting clothing that was colorful.

I chose to wear a nice adventurer’s outfit for situations like this. It wasn’t tier 1, like my worn regular equipment, but I could wear it into social settings as a starting adventurer. I had purchased the new gear here in Undercraft. It was a bit martial for a dinner, but that was the purpose of the meeting. I was going as an adventurer not as a noble. I also took more pride in my combat skills than my noble background.

Healer Melon wore fancy white robes with gold stitching instead of his usual grey ones. We made our way back down to the magical carriage and left with Rumbar Oakshield. The restaurant was back near the city center not that far from the training hall. After sitting down and ordering our food, I decided to speak up since Rumbar had been mostly quiet so far.

“My reputation is important to me. Once it is ruined it is very difficult to get back. I am also concerned that you are trying to use my name to capitalize off my mother’s fame,” I said.

“Those are very valid concerns. We are looking to associate you with our gear. Instead of wearing what you are wearing right now, you would wear Oakshield products unless you had tier 3 gear to replace it with. As for your mother, I won’t lie, that is why you are famous in adventurer circles. Most only know you by name when discussing your mother,” he explained.

“The problem is that you want to involve me in something I don’t understand or the political ramifications. Dwarven politics are exceedingly complicated with your various councils. If I support Oakshield then another corporation could become upset with me. I prefer to not make enemies,” I explained.

“We compete in business, not fighting. That is the dwarven policy for corporations. While we aren’t helpless, everyone plays within the rules. We are about making money,” he explained.

“And if I sign up, you can use my mother’s name when discussing certain things. I am ignorant or naïve. Just by associating with me, you are looking to use my mother’s fame,” I replied.

“That is a major part of why we are offering you this deal. There are no other young adventurers as famous as you. You are also a long term investment by us to build up our brand awareness,” he explained. Hearty steaks were brought out by the server and the conversation was paused for a moment.

“I feel like I am in the dungeon, and I don’t understand the environment before me. While learning about the unknown and braving it are important, equally important is to not put myself in a disadvantageous position for no reason. I don’t see how I can endorse a dwarven corporation without understanding the risks involved,” I replied.

I was ignorant about quite a bit and knew when to step back. A thousand gold might sound like a lot. But I had seen Oakshield tier 1 equipment. It was high quality and each tier 1 piece sold for 1 to 2 gold. There were millions of adventurers.

Offering me a thousand gold for 20 years was a complete scam. Sure there were manufacturing and transportation costs, but I had no doubt that Oakshield would make a lot of money. They had their gear even in Burnstock’s Adventurer’s Guild, marketed as dwarven craftsmanship.

While I wasn’t sure how famous I truly was, my mother’s name was well known. Rumbar Oakshield should have offered a percentage of sales, a shorter time frame, or better terms if he was being serious instead of trying to scam me. I would enjoy the well cooked dinner from a professional, but I wasn’t going to agree with anything.

He was probably some low ranked employee trying to make a big splash in the corporation he worked for. While his last name was Oakshield that didn’t mean anything. I knew enough about dwarven culture to know they would change their last names to match the corporation they worked for to show loyalty. It wasn’t like human nobility.

Looking at the clothing Rumbar was wearing, it was decent, but not overly impressive either. The number of gemstones wasn’t that great, and they were of lower quality. I might not be a gem appraiser, but I wasn’t ignorant. I would enjoy the meal, but I planned to politely decline the insultingly low offer that came with hidden strings attached to it.