Zar, Ramses, and the one-handed Pathfinder stood at the edge of the Oasis, watching the Nomads vanish over a dune. Behind them the workers were busy constructing the first of many buildings, using advanced versions of the mud brick technique that the nomads had built their crude structures with. The storage structures had already been filled and the meeting hall had been turned into a group dormitory, while a few luxurious tents had been set up nearby for those with more wealth or status.

Kairen barely paid a glance to all of that activity. Instead, from his position right behind Zar he silently and invisibly watched, wishing he could become tangible just long enough to stab the villain in his back. His one consolation was that the nomads had left without incident.

"I still don’t get why you just let them leave, boss, I mean sir." The pathfinder hastily corrected himself as Ramses shot him a warning look.

Zar took a moment to let his minion sweat before answering. “Rao. How much do you think that tribe would have been worth, were we to capture and sell them all?” A lecturing tone had entered his voice, the assurance of asking a question that he already knew the answer to.

“I dunno.” The newly christened Rao answered.

“Give me your best estimate, doesn’t have to be perfect.”

Rao talked while he did the math. “Ten Gold pieces for each of the adults, six for each of the kids, a few more for the Pathfinders and maybe some of the fighters? A thousand gold pieces, give or take.”

“Not a bad estimate. We could probably fetch more than that, Nomadic women are a rarity at the market which would drive the price up, given their ‘exotic’ nature. An estimate of a thousand gold pieces works for my purposes. Now how much gold do you think I earn a year for my position as a silver rank adventurer?” Zar kept the conversation flowing.

This question was almost instantly answered. “Not nearly that much. I’ve seen the bounty prices those cheap villager bastards post, and you rarely take more than a single bounty request a month. Two hundred gold at most.”

“Are you sure about that?” The head adventurer prodded.

Rao looked towards Ramses for help, but the mage avoided eye contact. “I mean, it’s probably less because you’re always hiring extra adventurers to go along with us on those missions, so maybe a hundred gold a year?”

Zar sighed. “Truly, your problem remains the same as ever. You rarely see further than the end of your own nose, let alone think about the future. On the surface, your initial assumptions were correct. Making slaves of as many nomads as possible would be a windfall for certain, worth a fair bit more than any of our usual raids thanks to their larger numbers and increased market value. We’d all get a cut, you could afford to have your other hand healed and life would be good for awhile.”

His tone turned frosty. “But the story doesn’t end there. You see, nomads don’t have the same level of fear of the Sands as most people do. While the threat present out there might force most of our targets to surrender or die fighting, more than a few of those nomads would choose instead to simply run away, confident in their ability to survive out there, Pathfinder abilities or no. If we forced the issue right now, with them already on edge I would be surprised if we managed to capture one in ten, with most fleeing into the Sands and the rest dying to give their companions the time they needed to escape. Most of the runners would probably die out there, but it only takes one to fuck us over.

One nomad making his way to the right city and all of a sudden the adventurer guild is hearing tales, stories about how the upright and honorable Zar Bloodwake is secretly a murderer and slaver.” Zar spat, dismissively showing his thoughts on the matter. “A truthspeaker is summoned, and all of a sudden my adventuring license is revoked. They’re not about to throw lives away posting a useless bounty on me, but I won’t have access to their people or their mission board any more. How many villages do we raid each year? And how many of them can you find only because we first visited them on a mission for the Guild?”

Rao begins to give an answer, but Zar is on a roll at this point. “I’d be impressed if you could find a single village a year working by yourself, and even then we’d have no guarantees that it would be a place we could afford to attack. A constant stream of easy targets, cut off for all time because you were too greedy. Besides, it’s not like this was our only chance to capture them.”

Ramses snorts at that. “Are you sure about that? They looked like they were going to run screaming if any of us even drew our weapons. They think there’s a local spirit that’s been warning them about you. Superstitious savages. As if it wasn’t one of the old geezers doing it all behind the scenes to scare everyone into line.”

Kairen glared at the arrogant mage. The rats might not want to be seen, but it shouldn’t be too difficult to get some rats to do their business in Ramses’ bedding. He put the idea away to be examined later. Zar was speaking again.

“I’ve heard of stranger things happening, although I agree with you that it seems unlikely at the least. Whatever the cause, they were skittish around me, part of the reason I didn’t try anything overt. Even convincing them to share a drink took more effort than I would have liked, and if I hadn’t drunk first I’m sure they would have found some excuse or another to decline, politeness be damned.”

“You poisoned the wine, sir?” Rao asked eagerly.

Zar chuckled maliciously at that. “The wine I shared with them is called Tantalean wine. It’s quite common in Savar, where drinking it is a status symbol of sorts. The wine is magical, you see, and carries a subtle enchantment that affects anyone who drinks it. It’s not a poison or a curse, making the magic difficult to detect and even harder to remove.

Once you’ve tasted the wine, the longer you go without drinking it the better it appears in your memories. Every day that passes your memory of drinking it grows a little bit more potent, the flavor becomes a little bit more incomparable. The only ‘cure’ is to have another drink."

“That’s it? You slipped them a magical drink and all it does is give them fond memories of drinking it?” Ramses didn’t even try to conceal his skepticism. Before Zar could answer, one of the foremen caught his attention and motioned him over to clarify some details regarding the construction of Zar’s house. It took a few minutes to go over everything, but then the trio of slavers were alone again.

Zar picked up the conversation as if the interruption had never happened. “Subtlety, my dear friends. Anything fast acting would likely have been noticed before everyone present would have drunk it, and anything slow acting would simply leave the nomads crippled out in the desert with confirmation of our ill intent. There was also no guarantee of ensuring that everyone took a drink, and insisting on such a thing would likely have been a step too far. Instead they have only their present suspicions, which will fade with time, and the elders and most of the adults have unfading memories of a drink they can only acquire from me. Their healer won’t find anything amiss, and sooner or later I foresee them returning. Let me tell you a bit more about Tantalean wine to explain my confidence in this matter.”

The nomads were completely out of sight by this point, and Zar began to walk around the Oasis, exploring his new territory while he lectured his subordinates.

“As I said earlier, Tantalean wine has a long history in Savar and its affiliated city states. The wealthy drink it constantly, both to enjoy its divine flavor and to subtly display their wealth. Tantalean wine is not a cheap drink. A fair amount of magic and other rare ingredients are involved in its brewing, and drinking a cup a day can and has ruined lesser merchants. All too often a family on the rise or an outsider merchant who has made some enemies is offered a glass as a symbol of their success. Unable to refuse, they are then trapped by their desires, driven to buy more wine every time the enchantment grows strong enough to overcome their willpower. Managed carefully, the enchantment can be slowly reduced, but doing so requires a presence of mind that most individuals lack.

One notable case was when a promising adventurer accidentally insulted the sultan of Savar's daughter during a banquet. The sultan found an excuse to offer the man the customary cup of Tantalean wine, and the adventurer reluctantly accepted, knowing the threat it presented, but unable to directly decline. He likely could have held off the temptation for a while, long enough to purchase smaller amounts to slowly wean himself free of the desire, but for the fact that the sultan hired an assassin to feed him five more cups while he slept. A month later the poor boy was crawling on his knees to the Sultan desperate for another sip having spent all of his money and sold all his possessions trying to purchase more wine. Last I heard he had been made into the daughter’s personal slave, responsible for cleaning her chamber pot and other such menial tasks.”

“That is a little more potent than I first thought, sir.” Rao admitted.

“They didn’t drink all that much, not to the point where anyone else should find their actions suspicious, but even if they never return I wouldn’t be overly upset. No matter how much money they might have made me in the Savarin slave markets, the value of this Oasis exceeds it many times over. With enough time and with the right investments, this place could easily become a city state almost as powerful as Savar, but far better positioned for our needs and purposes, and fully under our control.”

The adventurer continued talking about his plans for the future, but Kairen wasn't listening. How he wished that someone else had taken control of the Oasis, people more like the nomads, or miners like his own family, who would simply be happy to live in comfort without creating plans to inflict cruelty and pain on others. He would have been happy to work with people like that. Instead, Kairen would have to see just how much he could do as a spirit to foil Zar's plans.