Adam and Reggie were sitting together in a crowded tavern. After a short wait, two full mugs of beer appeared on the table. The archer slid one of the mugs toward the red-haired youngster.

"You're an adult now, right?"

Reggie raised his hands. "Yes, but... I don't drink alcohol."

Adam lifted his brows questioningly and, tilting his head slightly, said, "It won't kill you."

"That's exactly what old Simon used to say," the teenager responded with confidence, "...right before he dropped dead at the card table after a glass of rum.",

"How do you know it was the alcohol that killed him?" Adam asked.

Reggie quickly answered, "Not the alcohol, but a curse. My grandmother always told me it was the curse of the drunkard, that a terrible fate would befall him."

Adam pondered for a second, "It seems to me she just didn't like the drunkards..."

"No, she was a wise woman." He stopped him, "She was right about poor Todd losing his leg and about crazy Rory's dock fire, too. And she always said this: a sober man will never break in the storm. And that rainwater is the remedy for everything." Reggie kept explaining.

Adam looked at him with a straight face, "Rainwater, huh..."

After a moment, the archer cleared his throat and continued their conversation.

"Oi, you heard that new steel tradesman down by the docks?"

Reggie responded stiffly after a short pause, "Aye, I did. Folks say his steel doesn't bend nor snap, even in the frost. Certainly better than the one we've been gettin' from the east lot."

A pair of old dockhands at the next table paused mid-game of dice, glanced over without trying too hard to hide it.

Adam, nodding, sipping his ale, responded, "Exactly. My cousin swears the man's got some secret smelting method. Says a single shipment is worth its weight in silver to shipwrights and blacksmiths."

Reggie, lowering his voice, replied,

"Between you and me, I heard he's looking to take on a few more clients before the price goes up. Anyone smart would get in now before all the merchants start swarming."

The dockhands exchanged a look. By the time the men finished their ale, the rumors were already making their way toward the bar.

...

The very next day, the sun hammered down on the docks, making the white-painted walls of the building gleam, while Adam, together with Reggie, hung a new, freshly painted sign on the building wall, saying "Valen's Guild & Supply."

They didn't even notice that the very first customer arrived.

"Hello?" A middle-aged man, bald but with an impressive curled mustache, stood in front of the building and raised his head towards two men trying to adjust the sign, struggling with the heat in the full sun.

"Ah, one moment, please," said Reggie, quickly jumping off the ladder and opening the door to the building. He showed the man the sofa inside the room and disappeared to notify his boss. While the man eased himself down, with his fingers tapping the armrest thoughtfully, Reggie darted off to find Valis, practically bouncing with excitement.

"Sir Valen, we have a customer!" Reggie said in a rush, not even noticing that he walked into Valis's office without knocking.

"We do? Excellent!" Val responded, grinning. He had a feeling that this meeting could mark the start of something very profitable.

A few minutes later, the two men sat across from each other, the air thick with anticipation, ready to begin their negotiations.

"I heard that Valen's company is offering steel for sale. Is that true? I'd like to establish cooperation," said the potential buyer, sitting on the opposite side of the table, sprawled out on the couch. His mustache twitched as he spoke.

 
Then, his tone softened slightly, "But... is everything all right?" The buyer hesitated as he spoke, pointing to the mask that Valis wore on his face.
The mask was simple, made of black leather that had been shaped to fit snugly over the upper half of Valis's face. It covered his forehead and the bridge of his nose, leaving his mouth and jaw free.

Valis replied quickly, "Everything is fine. I just have a burn scar, you understand, an accident I suffered a long time ago..."

The buyer nodded with sympathy. "Yes, I understand. Accidents happen to people..."

Valis quickly learned that his name was Mike Morn, a shipyard owner, wanting to restore some merchant vessels that had taken storm damage.

'His public approval would certainly open many doors', Val thought, weighing the advantage carefully. "Yes, we do offer steel at a very good price. How much would you need?" he started, but was immediately stopped by Mike.

Mike held up a hand, cutting him off. "Not so fast. I'm not after this cheap rubbish that you can get anywhere. I want quality. Show me the product first". His tone was firm and left no room for negotiation. This was the condition on which any deal would be made.

Val leaned back slightly, studying Mike with an appraising eye. Here was a man who knew the value of his investments, who would not be swayed by promises or persuasion alone. He liked his direct tone, just going straight to business. The challenge was clear, but he welcomed it.

He asked Reggie to get him samples of their products from the stock to show to Mike.

When the young man returned moments later with a few carefully wrapped pieces of steel. The buyer looked at the first sample with a careful eye, weighed it in his hand, and furrowed his brow. "This is awful," he said bluntly. "Completely not what I'm after. Rubbish quality."

Valis met his gaze calmly. "This is mild steel," he explained. "Excellent for machinery or construction, but not suitable for shipbuilding; it would corrode quickly. Try the other sample." He slid a second, slightly bigger and heavier piece across the table.

Mike's eyes widened slightly as he lifted it, and a sparkle of approval appeared. This was what he had been looking for.

"And this one is...?" Mike asked, his tone curious but cautious.

"This is stainless steel," Valis replied smoothly, his voice carrying confidence. "Durable in water and resistant to corrosion. You won't be disappointed."

The negotiation that followed was long and intense. Mike asked pointed questions about quality and pricing, and Valis answered each one with precision. By the afternoon, they reached a deal that satisfied both parties, and the very first shipments left Valen's Guild the next day.

Mike's nod of approval carried more weight than any advertisement or proclamation ever could. Within days, word of mouth spread across the docks. Shipwrights, blacksmiths, and even a caravan guard captain looking to reinforce his wagon axles began placing orders.

The docks buzzed with talk, some of it about the steel's quality, some about the "curse" Reggie swore by. Somehow, the story took on a life of its own. Sailors and laborers began claiming the steel was "blessed," forged with rainwater. The demand grew quickly.

Within a fortnight, the operation tripled: more steel was coming in, more hands from Avene worked at the warehouses, more crates were stacked high and waiting for shipment and finally, more customers sought Valen out directly, eager to strike deals at the source.

One evening when Valis went out for a walk by the docks, unable to suppress the faint smile tugging at his lips, he thought about how his luck had shifted. He strolled along the weathered planks while the sun dipped toward the horizon. The day was unusually calm, with the sea being quieter than usual, with only gentle waves sweeping against the sides of the fishermen's boats, causing them to creak softly. But his thoughts were elsewhere.

It was time to tighten the screws on Ladven, export even less as the Avene Dukedom, and increase his operations through the Valen's Guild. He was hoping that the Ladven family could already feel the pressure. He imagined them sitting around the table, voices raised, wondering why their shipments grew lighter while Valen's coffers swelled. The smile sharpened on his face. The more desperate they became, the easier it would be to break them or make them crawl to him.

"So it was you, after all..." A deep, husky voice came from right behind him, sending a chill down his spine.