Searing 33, 122
Franky and Dalma strode quickly through the doors of the bank, after the sleepy guard inside had been both chastised and bribed to let them in to see Ferra. Franky knew the elf woman would be there. She was always the first into the bank, the last to leave, and he knew she spent more often than not in her secret bedroom attached to her office than she'd ever admit.
In the great and empty marble bastion that was the lobby of the bank, Delilah was not at her receptionist desk. That wasn't unusual in the least bit, but Franky had to clear his throat as he and Dalma waited by the doors to the offices until the guard realized that Delilah was not there. He apologized profusely and Franky and his wife were moving quickly down the hallway.
Straight to Ferra's office, he opened turned the handle and the pair slipped in, just in time to see Delilah buttoning her blouse, pulling it down to cover her decided lack of trousers. A blush rushed past, as Ferra walked out of her bedroom, "I'm starving. Time to have you for breakfast."
The elf stopped, blinking multiple times, seeing not her lover, but Franky and Delilah instead. She raised in eyebrow, "Not the meal I was expecting."
Franky's mouth was a thin line, "You're going to want coffee."
Ferra sighed, pressing the button on her desk, "Delilah, when you get your pants, put on a pot, please."
Franky and Dalma sat down on the couch, Ferra raising a brow. She looked at Franky, "I knew you were married, but I assumed to a hag. Your wife is prettier than me." She was genuinely pouting, at which Dalma smiled politely, "Franky here is more a man after one's mind. Yours has certainly kept him entertained."
Ferra waved her hand dismissively, "Why didn't you bring her about? You know I dabble in many currencies."
Franky shook his head, "I'd love to play out this dance, Ferra, truly, but we are short of time."
He looked over at Dalma, nodding.
Dalma stood up, walking toward Ferra at her desk, who was arching an eyebrow in speculation. Dalma presented her blouse covered stomach to Ferra, who squinted at it before looking at Franky. Then back to Dalma. Dalma sighed, raising her blouse to reveal that the eyes on her shirt were now on her stomach. Ferra's mouth made an 'o'. Then she shot a dirty look, "IS THAT HOW YOU BROKE MY MODELS?!"
Franky snorted, "No."
Dalma spoke, "I'm only recently blessed by the Blind Mother. Well after Franky," a sly grin on her face, "Attracted your attention."
Ferra looked back and forth between them for a moment, before staring at Franky while pointing at Dalma, "So why is she here?"
Dalma nodded. "Because I have Seen grave destruction coming to Zaichaer tomorrow." She gave a detailed accounting of the destruction to Ferra. Ferra asked multiple questions discerning details, sights, everything, far better than Franky had. She was quick to uncover, "This is centered on the Knob."
She looked at Franky harshly, "This does not bode well on our project."
Franky nodded, "No, it does not. But it does not bode well on this bank either. Or the vaults."
Ferra pumped her eyebrows in agreement, leaning back. Franky could see her mind calculating, "The Guild of Coins takes the word of Galetira extremely seriously, despite." Her lip curled in annoyance, "How rarely we're informed of her Seeings."
Delilah interrupted, pouring coffee for everyone and quickly disappearing in a rushed blush, "This bank is prepared to evacuate its holdings to safety in the time frame you've provided. We're always prepared." She cast a stern look on Franky now as she sipped her espresso, "Always."
Her gaze softened, "We're prepared to evacuate consultants and agents of the bank as well."
Franky dropped two cubes of sugar into his coffee, leaving it otherwise untouched. "I appreciate your professionalism, Ferra. But we must stay."
Ferra's shoulders drooped a bit, "There's no money to be made in a wasteland."
Franky, in full seriousness, his face hard and impassive, "Money is a tool, nothing more."
Ferra leaned back, pouting now. "We won't be back. Not if there's nothing to come back to. The world thinks our customers are the people, but you know who we truly cater toward." Franky did know. Governments. There wasn't a real nation that existed on this continent that the Guild of Coins hadn't drawn into relying upon its banks. "If we survive this, you'll want to return. We both know also know that nothing is more profitable for the Guild than great amounts of death."
Ferra looked a bit sheepish, shifting in her seat, "Which is why we made our project. Profiting from death is uninspiring. It is time to start investing in belief."
Ferra looked down at her desk, "I don't operate on belief, Franky. You know this."
Franky stood up, moving around Ferra's desk, kneeling next to the elf. He lifted her chin so she looked at him, "So don't. You're better than Zaichaer. Use this as on opportunity." Her ears reddened at Franky's proximity, "To save a bank just before sure destruction is worthy of promotion." Her sharp, shapely eyebrows rose even more, "And one will need to fill your position. Rather than working with or for a government," Franky grinned with his sharpened teeth prominently showing, "It is time that you have a leader who can do both."
She looked at him incredulously as he stood up, leaning against her desk, crossing his arms. She looked up at him, wanting to believe him. Wanting to believe in him. "But how will you survive? If what've you said is true..." A brief moment as she considered the figures, "Your best case scenario is several hundred thousand dead, largely from the Knob, with the most of the rest of Zaichaer evacuated. Any survivors will be alo--"
Her eyes shot up to him.
"No?"
Franky grinned, "Yes."
"But the storm?"
"Is just another problem to solve."
More calculations behind her eyes, as Dalma sipped at her latte, grabbing a biscotti, lounging as her husband worked. "But if you solve it..."
"Yes."
She squirmed her thighs a bit, shifting back and forth. "They won't make it easy."
Franky snorted, "When have I ever chased easy?"
He turned to walk back to the couch, picking up his coffee off the end table, draining it, his true, worried eyes on Dalma as he calmed his nerves with the distraction. He turned back. "We must go, I have some last many preparations to attend."
Dalma rose gracefully, "It was a pleasure to finally meet you Ferra. Once all of this is settled, we should celebrate your promotion."
The elf's ear tips could not possibly turn more crimson, "We'll be awaiting your word. We will not approach you."
Franky nodded, "Go with speed."
Ferra nodded, slumping back in her oversized chair, "Fight hard."
Franky and Dalma left her office together, stopping by the teller who was just now opening their booth. Franky withdrew the rest of his funds, in coin, much to the surprise of the man. "A rainy day fund." After a brief wait, Franky and Gorha lugged the chests of coins into the wagon while the guard watched on curiously.
"You know we have cert notes right?"
Franky feigned surprise, mildly annoyed by the stupidity of his statement, attributed to his stress at the task at hand. "Oh yeah? And certified notes have meaning when there's no bank?"
The guard chuckled, "There's always a bank."
Franky could only shake his head as he climbed up in the wagon next to Dalma. Many more trips to go. Franky stopped by many merchants he knew through the business, purchasing their warehouses, specific ones he'd picked out last night in his planning. These were warehouses that were both spread out around the Knob and carried bulk necessities. Dried food, barrels of potable water heading to a brewery, weapons, even a warehouse of medical supplies slated for the army that was out in the middle of the wildlands now. Franky owned the buildings and accepted the responsibility of the items they held. With each warehouse he purchased, he gave the employees tomorrow off, paid, all of whom readily agreed.
Franky doubted these warehouses would amount to much, but he'd be remiss if he didn't try everything. It didn't take much travel to find many of the goblins he knew to man the warehouses for a wage that was high enough that they wouldn't be able to say no. Their orders? To guard the supplies, but also to house any people in need for tomorrow. The smart ones questioned this and Franky increased their pay to shut them up. The dumb ones simply agreed.
The wagon was now carrying them to the Old Mines.
Now came the hard part.
Storage, Luxurious 3000gp + 50% for expedience = 4500gp x 10 Warehouses = 45,000 deducted
Various goblins hired for a single day = 1000gp deducted
