Reborn As A Beastman With A System

As dusk settled, the door to the grand hall creaked open, revealing two towering figures silhouetted against the fading light. The first, a hulking Beastmen with piercing eyes, stepped forward, his companion close behind.

His Highness the Elf, lounging in an ornate chair carved with ancient runes, nearly spilled his drink in surprise. The leader of the werewolves, with his formidable presence, was none other than Logan.

"Logan and Tyton, at my threshold!" The elf exclaimed, his voice a blend of astonishment and delight. Logan offered a grin, sharp and knowing. "We meet again, Your Highness!"

The elf prince, regaining his composure, chuckled softly, shaking his head in disbelief. "To think the master of this esteemed establishment is the famed commander of the northern packs!"

Logan' gaze lingered on the elf prince, memories of past encounters swirling in his mind. He recalled a time when he had escorted an elf caravan to the perilous edges of Kasros Canyon. The young elf prince, Pleti, had been among them, sharing tales of the Windrunner Chamber of Commerce as they parted ways.

Now, here in the warm glow of the Kasha Hotel, that same elf prince stood before him, his expression mingled with shock and curiosity. "Please, take a seat," Logan gestured to an elaborately carved chair opposite him. "May I have the honor of your name once again?"

"Your Excellency may call me Pleti," the elf replied with a bow. "And thank you, once again, for your aid during our last peril. Your bravery afforded me continued life."

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Logan waved off the thanks with a hearty laugh, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "Ah, but do recall, it was a service duly compensated with three thousand gold coins! Let us not dwell on debts of life saved."

"Indeed, I am Logan, proprietor of this humble establishment," he continued, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of mirth and business acumen. "Tell me, Pleti, what brings you to my hall this evening? Is it the allure of our famed wines, or perhaps something more pressing?"

Pleti's smile was thin but genuine. He admired the straightforward nature of Logan, remembering well the Beastmen's invaluable assistance. "Indeed, Lord Logan, I come on matters of business. Have you, perchance, heard of the Windrunner Chamber of Commerce?"

Logan shook his head, his interest piqued. "I have not, but I am always eager to learn more, especially if it involves potential ventures."

The elf nodded, appreciating the direct approach. "Well then, let us discuss potential partnerships. With our shared history and your renown, I believe we could forge paths beneficial to both our kin."

As they delved into discussions, the air filled with the possibility of new alliances, their past deeds weaving a strong foundation for future endeavors.

"No," Pleti corrected with a raised eyebrow, his tone laced with mild amusement. "Surely a vintner of your repute would be familiar with the Windrunner Chamber of Commerce if that were the case."

"Our Chamber is among the elite top ten in the High Elf Kingdom," he continued, his voice swelling with pride. "We have established trade routes that span the domains of elves, humans, orcs, goblins, and even extend into the aquatic territories of the Sea Kingdom."

Logan leaned back, his eyes narrowing with interest. "Impressive. And how do you stand in comparison to the Temple of Fortune? They are quite the behemoth in trade circles."

Pleti paused, momentarily taken aback by the comparison. "The Temple of Fortune?" he echoed, then chuckled. "Well, we consider ourselves peers, on equal footing in terms of influence and power."

"Truly?" Logan exclaimed, visibly impressed. "I've heard much about the Temple's reach and the lavish pride of their dealings from my associate, Fisher. To think that the Windrunner Chamber matches them in stature!"

The revelation seemed to sink in deeply. Logan was aware of the Temple's notorious arrogance and the mere idea that the Windrunner Chamber could rival such a force painted a picture of immense capability and influence. The implications of refusing or accepting a partnership with such a titan weighed heavily on his mind.

Pleti, maintaining his poise, allowed the Beastmen the space to ponder, understanding the gravity of the decisions swirling in his head. He reflected on his own position; unlike the cautious tales he had heard from Fisher and the wary lion, David, about the predatory nature of other major wine merchants. These merchants sought collaboration only to dominate and absorb smaller entities.

Pleti's thoughts drifted to the potential benefits of aligning with Logan. Such a partnership could drastically widen their market reach, rapidly boosting the financial avenues for his Silver Mane Tribe. An influx of gold could transform their fortunes overnight, propelling them to new heights.

Logan finally met Pleti's gaze again, the weight of his thoughts evident in his eyes. "Are you here specifically to discuss wine?" he inquired, the question loaded with the potential of burgeoning alliances and the echo of their previous life-saving encounter.

Despite the commercial guise, there was an unspoken acknowledgment of the deeper bonds formed by their shared history; a life saved, a favor owed.

"Really?" Pleti's eyes widened, a mix of surprise and intrigue flickering across his face. Was Logan clever enough to discern his intentions so quickly?

Indeed, Pleti soon pieced it together. The local wine merchants had been stirring up trouble, making his sudden appearance at their doorstep all too revealing.

Realizing his motives were transparent, Pleti decided to cut to the chase. "So, you're the master winemaker?" he asked, though he had already surmised as much.

Logan, unable to feign ignorance with Pleti standing right before him, admitted, "Yes, that's right!" His voice carried a blend of resignation and openness.

"So, you seek a partnership with me?" Pleti pressed, eager to unfold his plan.

"Yes, I wish to partner with you," Logan confirmed. "You see, figures like Fisher Greymane or David Templeton may have formidable networks, but they lack business acumen."

"Our Windrunner Chamber of Commerce, on the other hand, has a global footprint. We might not reach every intelligent race, but our presence is known to most," Pleti boasted. "All you need to worry about is crafting your fine wines; we can handle the sales, no matter the volume."

Logan chuckled lightly, impressed. "You've certainly done your homework before coming here!" The hint of respect in his tone was palpable.

"But tell me, Pleti, does the final decision rest with you in the Windrunner Chamber of Commerce?" Logan needed to know the extent of Pleti's authority.

Pleti momentarily paused, taken aback by the question but also heartened by Logan's evident interest. "The Windrunner Chamber of Commerce is the family business of the Windwalker lineage," he explained proudly. "And the Windwalker family itself is among the venerable Elf King families of the High Elf Kingdom. As a direct descendant, I hold considerable sway, second only to my siblings."

"The Windwalker family?" Logan echoed, processing this new information. The gravity of the association dawned on him. This was no ordinary proposition.

"So, your aim is to edge out Fisher and David, monopolizing my supply?" Logan sought clarification, his tone a mix of caution and curiosity.

"Exactly," Pleti affirmed, his excitement barely contained. "With the Windrunner Chamber of Commerce behind us, we can take on even more than that."

Logan nodded, his mind racing with possibilities. This alliance could catapult his wines onto a global stage, a prospect both thrilling and daunting.