They trilled at her in a high-pitched whistle. “Keylynn of the RADAWC AAD?”
Based on the pitch of their whistle, they must be a younger bird kin who was recently hired. The newer hires tend to stick with the shortened names for everything.
“Salutations, are you a Royal Assessment Department and Adventurer Welfare Council authorized courier?” She asked in response. Company policy stipulates that couriers and employees verify identity verbally before handing over anything. There have been problems in the past with false IDs and stolen documents. To solve that, each envelope or parcel the couriers carry are spelled that if the verbal verification wasn’t done or is a lie, they will burst into flames.
In response, the courier dug through their thick plumage and showed their authorized courier identification. Keylynn read through it and gave them a quick nod. She didn’t want to risk fire for either of them; burnt feathers are exceptionally pungent.
“You have my many thanks. Would you be able to wait here while I retrieve the required paperwork my manager requested?” She didn’t feel right asking them to enter the quest with her, and she didn’t know how tight their schedule was.
They trilled happily at her. “That I can do. Don’t got too many deliveries today. I hate to be a bother, but none of my feathers are entering that place. There are rumours that anyone who flies in never flies out. And then there’s Petey, who dropped something off just two weeks ago, and no one has seen him since. He said the rumours were stupid and thought there was no way he was going to just assume the old man got the paperwork. It breaks protocol, and he was already walking the tightrope."
Keylynn frowned. Couriers aren’t supposed to go missing when they deliver to guests. RADAWC guarantees contract worker safety when they enter quests. If it is true that couriers are going missing, then that is cause for concern, and it should have been investigated.
“Has anyone filed a missing contract worker form with Contract Worker Services?” She inquired concerned. Contract Worker Services is a lesser-known branch of HR that caters to and enforces the contractual worker policies.
The small sparrow kin tilted their heads to the side. “Contract Worker Services?”
That was strange. All contract workers should be aware of their branch of HR. If this one wasn’t aware of them, then something went wrong during their onboarding.
“It’s a branch of HR that is meant to support the needs of all of RADAWC’s contractual workers, such as our couriers. You should have been informed about it during your onboarding,” she explained. “Let me give you their direct email.” She wrote it down quickly as well as the receptionist’s phone number. “You should have a case worker assigned to you upon being hired. All forms can be found on the HR portal.” She handed the scrap piece of paper to the bird kin.
“Thank you,” they trilled happily. “Right, your parcel.” They handed her the thick white shipping envelope.
“And thank you for your delivery. I’ll return shortly.” She smiled before walking to the farmhouse. She avoided every mud puddle and mimic as she opened the envelope by the pull tab. Inside was a thick stack of forms that she wasn’t expecting at all. She was expecting a small packet to replace the current deal, not this massive collection of paperwork. She flipped through it and found extensive renegotiations that she was authorized to handle. As she went further into the stack, the contracts needed less and less from Cleatus, including reclaiming ownership of the farm and removing him from the property.
She walked into the office pleased to find her team already at work and no mimics hanging off of anyone.
“What’s that?” Demetra asked her, gesturing to the paperwork in her hand. “I thought you had a simple renegotiation to do.”
“I do. It seems Lark was exceptionally thorough. What are the plans for today?” She asked curiously.
Demetra groaned. “I thought you knew that. The inn didn’t have coffee.”
“You should have determined the plan for today yesterday.”
Demetra sighed loudly and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Fine. Okay, we will finish our reports here in the office, and I guess you’ll handle renegotiations?”
“Will you send someone to observe? Contract renegotiations don’t arise that often.” Keylynn asked curiously.
“Right, yes, of course. Ragna can join you.”
“Astute choice,” Keylynn agreed and looked at Ragna. “Are you ready?”
He looked up from his matrix tablet. “My report is done anyways. So, what’s the strategy?” He stood up and set his matrix tablet aside.
“Find Cleatus, then talk to him,” she explained, leaving the office. She already knew Cleatus wasn’t in the farmhouse, because he wasn’t when she left to meet the courier.
“I’ll admit renegotiations aren’t something I’m proficient at, so I hope you learn what not to do.” She explained, biting her lip. She failed her negotiations module several times. It took her being told exactly what to say by her trainer to pass. They only passed her because she was proficient at everything else and no one wanted to find a new position for her.
“I’m not surprised in the slightest; you’re in luck—negotiations happen to be a specialty of mine,” he stated confidently. “May I?” He gestured at the stack of papers in her hand.
This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
She nodded and happily handed them over. This negotiation was the most complicated one that she had ever seen. Never had she heard of a contract with so many options.
He flipped through the stack, skimming it quickly. “It seems like Lark attempted to streamline things for you. Or he was really committed to getting a new deal. Half of these are fail-safes just in case Cleatus won’t agree to anything. All you need to focus on is the first deal and go from there based on how he responds.”
“Would you like to handle the renegotiation? I know Lark intends for me to do it, but you need the experience, and you might have better luck than I will.” She offered. The last thing they needed was to orchestrate a terrible deal because of her abysmal charisma score.
Ragna smirked at her. “I’ll get him the best possible deal. I won’t let corporate fuck him over.”
Out on the fields she stretched her magic out, intent on finding Cleatus and his unique hygienic habits. She found him surrounded by his mimics in the middle of one of his fields. If she was correct, it was the field filled with the scarecrow mimics.
She led Ragna out to the field, gently shooing all of the mimics out of their way with the mud. For once she was pleased for the muddy fields, and not just for their look.
Cleatus was standing in a ring of scarecrows, reading to them from a book with large pages filled with colourful illustrations.
“Of all the things he could be doing, that’s weirder somehow,” Ragna muttered.
Cleatus turned the page out towards all the mimics and spun in a slow circle, giving them all a good look at it.
“And then you’ll never guess what happened; the wolf opened its maw nice and wide and ate up that little chil’in Riding Red,” Cleatus enthused to several gasps.
“Salutations, I hate to interrupt your story time.” She said, walking closer, as Cleatus showed his field of mimics the grisly picture of a mimic gobbling up a small child. She had to admit she hadn’t heard of a version of The Child in Red with mimics. The version she grew up with was a hootbear that dressed up as the child’s grandsire. And it was all retribution against the child who plucked flowers that they shouldn’t have, earning the ire of the forest guardian.
“Oh, yer back. S'ppose it was meant ta be.” He closed the book. “We will finish this tale up once I’m able ta. Not to worry, the little mimic’s revenge is worth the extra suspense.” He slid the book into the back of his pants. “So what are ya needing from Ol’ Cleatus?”
“My manager took a look at the deal bartered between your ancestors and a previous assessment manager of the company and said it was extremely outdated and ordered me to adjust it,” she explained carefully, not losing her words. Now was not the time for her to say the wrong thing, which occurred often during her oral examination for her negotiation module. She would get overwhelmed and would either answer exclusively in Elvish or in a convoluted universal tongue.
“Yer boss don’t like it, eh? That sounds about right. Papie warned me of the day that the axeman would want to change things,” he agreed while chewing on something in his mouth. “We can talk more in the barn. I ain’t let nuthin but the eggs in there, so ya can talk without having ta worry about getting ate,” he explained, pointing towards the large barn that probably once was the colour red.
“Oh good, mimic eggs. What could go wrong?” Ragna asked, his words filled with sarcasm.
“Lead the way. I don’t think anyone has seen the internals of your barn.” She gestured to Cleatus, ignoring the questioning look from Ragna. Once the words left her mouth, she knew they were incorrect. Subtly, Ragna stepped in front of her, taking the lead. She let out a sigh of relief; she didn’t know how much longer she could go before she truly embarrassed herself.
“Right this way then. Be careful of the little ums, they are still learning. I got a whole pen of them near abouts the barn.” Cleatus said, walking over a cluster of ripened strawberries covered with worms. Keylynn had a feeling that the worms and the strawberries were all mimics.
Cleatus shook the hand of one of the scarecrow mimics and led them to his barn. He didn’t lie about the large pen of little mimics, and most of them didn’t have a form yet, which means they were nothing more than piles of goo with too many eyes and teeth sticking out of them.
“Pay no mind to them; they is still growing,” Cleatus said, opening the barn door with a loud creak. He flicked on the light that flickered a couple times before it emitted a soft yellow light.
Keylynn followed Cleatus into the eerily yellow-lit barn with Ragna behind her. All around them were large glass crates filled with trays of eggs. The lid of each crate emitted a hazy golden yellow light.
Cleatus walked past everything to an old mildewy table with several matching chairs. He took a seat and gestured for them to join him. Ragna slid into the chair in front of him while Keylynn took the other seat.
“So, what’s this problem yer bosses have?”
“To be honest, it’s old, so old in fact it now breaks company policy. You know the corporate types and their obsession with conformity and safety,” Ragna explained easily.
“Them corporate types only like ta impress their investors. Waste of skin if ya ask me. So what’s this new deal they want to screw Ol’ Cleatus with?” He asked before spitting into a cup.
Keylynn felt her heart pound in her ears. That didn’t sound like he would be willing to take any deal.
“Screwing you over is what I’m trying to avoid. See, they would love for nothing more than to take the farm from you. Now I don’t want that to happen. There is no one I trust more than you to care for mimics. So the best deal for you and the worst for them is for you to retain ownership and control over the farm, but we help you instate a quest for adventurers. That way if they die, it’s fair. Either we fly in a storymancer for you, or you take up that role yourself. We can find you someone in HR either to work on the farm or remotely.” The words smoothly flowed out of Ragna’s mouth as if he wasn’t thrown off guard by Cleatus. Maybe he wasn’t.
Cleatus scanned his eyes from Ragna and back to Keylynn. “So, I take this, and you take my farm and give it a quest and send me someone in HR to hide in me office?” His skepticism was clear.
They were going to lose the deal and have to remove Cleatus from the farm. That was guaranteed to be unpleasant. Keylynn hated being the villain in someone’s story.
“Nah, I can be your remote HR consultant. With only you working onsite, you don’t need someone here. I can even help you handle the backline things of being a storymancer. You’ll probably have to agree to take on the training…” He trailed off.
Keylynn doubled Cleatus would actually do the training.
“I’ll agree if you agree ta do the dumb corporate bullshit,” Cleatus countered.
Ragna paused for a moment before he answered. “Deal, if you help me help you. Meet me halfway. If I ask for information, don’t bullshit me; just give it to me. Check your e-mail weekly to start. If I need you to check it more, you do it. Or we will have someone on your farm to help me. Understand?”
Cleatus pursed his lips. You drive a hard bargain, but I’ll accept. I’ll be needin’ notice should you or someone else want to visit me farm. Adventurers is fine. Ye corporate slaves, not so much.”
“And you cannot help your mimics in killing anyone, no matter how annoying they are,” Ragna amended, sliding the deal over to Cleatus to sign.
“Fine, but I won’t ever stop me mimics from eatin’ them shits. Some deserve to be ate.”
“On that we can agree. Keylynn, my boss will be helping us establish a quest on your farm, and I ask for your cooperation with my team. We all want what’s best for you and your mimics.” Ragna handed him a pen.
“S’ppose it says I’ll allow ye to do that in this deal,” Cleatus mused before signing it. “Yeah, I’ll let ya do what ya need. Yer good people.” He slid the signed deal back over to Ragna.
“Thank you,” Ragna signed under Cleatus. Official RADAWC forms often require a witness. He then added a small amendment in that he will be the backline for The Mimic Farm.
Ragna handed the signed deal to Keylynn. “One negotiation handled, now we get to do the fun stuff.”
Novicius in Arte Medica A Novice in the Art of MedicineMedical School is a Warzone. Ashrahan was failing. Then, the System woke up.
Quote: Synopsis: Sleepless nights, borrowed notes, and caffeine. When exhaustion drags Ashrahan to the edge, a silent system awakens, transforming patients into interactive lessons and textbooks into living networks of surgical precision.