The heavy oak door creaked shut behind Sara as she settled into the high-backed chair at the round table, its surface scarred from years of heated debates. The room smelled of polished wood and faint incense from the priest John's robes, the air thick with tension that had been building since the moment they all arrived. Flickering lantern light danced across the faces of the five council members, casting long shadows that made their expressions seem sharper, more cunning than they usually are.
Village Chief Bezos, a burly man with a beard like a tangled underbrush, slammed his meaty fist on the table, making the empty mugs rattle. "I've said it before, and I'll say it again, tradition still holds, Sara! In every village with a guild, it's the chief and the priest who handle the settlements. We greet the representatives, seal the deals, and make sure everything runs smoothly. That's how it's always been, and that's how it's going to be in this village, too!"
Priest John nodded vigorously, his thin lips curling into a smug line under his neatly trimmed mustache. His robes rustled as he leaned forward, eyes gleaming with self-importance. "Exactly, Bezos. The gods favor order, and order comes from those who lead the people in body and spirit. We've got the experience. Who is better to represent the village when those capital folks roll in?"
Across the table, Vivian, the wealthy cloth merchant with curves that strained against her silk blouse, crossed her arms over her ample chest, her green hair falling in waves that framed a face still striking in her forties. She let out a sharp laugh, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Huuuhh, Tradition? Oh, please. Just because other villages let you old fools bumble through it doesn't mean we have to, right? This guild is going to be a goldmine, new trade routes, protection fees, favors from the higher-ups, you name it. Why hand it over to you two when it could benefit all of us?"
Beside her, Clara, the mana stone supplier whose shipments from the capital kept the village's daily needs and enchantments humming, nodded emphatically. Her low-cut dress hugged her full hips and bust, her blonde curls bouncing as she gestured wildly. "Vivian's right. We've got connections too, and I've dealt with guild reps before, shipping crystals straight to their outposts. If we let you handle it, it'll be prayers and handshakes all day, I'm sure, and we'll miss the real opportunities. I say we take charge; split the duties fairly."
Sara sat quietly at first, her fingers drumming lightly on the armrest as she watched the chaos unfold in this council. Bezos's face reddened like a boiling kettle, John's jaw clenched tight enough to crack teeth, while Vivian and Clara leaned in like vultures circling a fresh kill. 'They're all after the same thing,' Sara thought, her lips pressing into a thin line.
She knew these suckers were after profits from the settlements, or a chance to rub elbows with guild masters from the capital, maybe even skim a little off the top for themselves. Not just the chief and the priest were eyeing this opportunity. All four members were most likely thinking about the same thing themselves right now.
But if these greedy fools get their hands on it, they'll squeeze too hard, overcharge on land, and demand extra "fees." If this happens, the guild could pull out, just like in Oakridge last year. And Sara can't let that happen. Not after everything she did to bring it here.
The argument escalated, voices overlapping in a cacophony of accusations. Bezos pointed a thick finger at Vivian. "You just want it for your fancy clothes, don't you? So that the guild folks'll buy 'em up, and line your pockets, right?!"
"And why don't you admit that you want it for your ego!" Clara shot back, her chest heaving with each word. "At least we'd make real deals if I take over!"
John raised his hands for calm, but his voice boomed over them. "Enough! The gods won't bless a divided council. Bezos and I…..!"
As the meeting was slowly turning into a fistfight because of their greed, someone had to stop them. And someone did.
"Enough!" Sara's voice cut through like a whip crack inside the council room, sharp and unyielding. She stood slowly, her chair scraping back with a deliberate screech that silenced the room. Her eyes swept over each of them, cool and unflinching, her posture straight as an arrow. No longer the pushover they were so used to dismissing all this time; now, she carried the weight of a noble's favor, and she let it show in every measured word of her's.
"You all talk like this is your prize to squabble over," she said, her tone even but laced with steel. "But let's be clear about something first, I brought the guild here. And I convinced Lord Valtor to pull strings in the capital for me, and I got his promise, which led to this guild now. Without me, there wouldn't be any guild to talk about."
Vivian opened her mouth, but Sara held up a hand, silencing her. "And if you think you can just take over and run it your way, ripping off the guild with inflated deals or shady favors, then think again. They'll pack up and leave faster than you can count your coins. We've all seen it happen. Oakridge lost theirs over greed like this. You remember that, right?"
Bezos shifted uncomfortably, his bluster fading. "Now now, Sara, no one's talking about….!"
"Oh, please," Sara interrupted, her voice dropping lower, more dangerous. "I know exactly what you're all thinking. Profits, power, and a leg up with the big players from the capital. But if any of you try to mess this up, remember this well: I can end it just as easily as I started it. Lord Valtor is now on my side, I've got his ear, and his backing. One word from me, and the guild vanishes. Poof. Gone."
The room fell deathly quiet at her indirect threat. Vivian's confident smirk evaporated, her fingers twisting in her lap. Clara's eyes darted to the floor, her earlier fire snuffed out. While Bezos swallowed hard, exchanging an uneasy glance with John, who looked like he'd also been slapped.
John grumbled under his breath, his face twisting in frustration. "That's blackmail, Sara. You can't just…."
"Call it what you want," Sara said, her gaze locking onto his like a vice. "But it's the truth. This guild stays because I say it does. And if you want it to thrive, for all of us, then you'll let me handle the settlements. I'll make sure it's fair, profitable, and stable for all the villagers. No shortcuts, no greed getting in the way."
John opened his mouth again, his cheeks flushing red, but Bezos placed a heavy hand on his shoulder, squeezing firmly, and speaking low. "Easy, Priest. She's got a point. Don't provoke her anymore. We don't want to lose this before it even starts, right?" His voice was gruff, reluctant, but the fight had drained out of him.
John huffed, crossing his arms like a sulking child, but he nodded curtly, his grumbling fading to a mutter. "Fine. For now, do as you wish."
Sara eased back into her chair, the tension in her shoulders releasing just a fraction. She nodded once, her voice calm again. "Good. Then we're agreed at last."
The council members exchanged glances, the air still heavy, but the storm barely passed. Vivian forced a tight smile, Clara busied herself with her mug, and Bezos cleared his throat awkwardly.
No one challenged her further as the meeting wrapped up, the weight of her trump card lingering like an unspoken threat.