"Brian Thomsen - Forgotten Realms - Realms of Magic" - читать интересную книгу автора (Thomsen Brian M)

Faerun's most successful publisher.
 In the intervening years, Volo had been handed off to numerous editors, each a bit more willing to take partial
credit for the gazetteer's success, and it had been more than a few seasons since the great publisher and the noble
rogue had had a "face-to-face." The recent dismissal of his last editor, coinciding with the master traveler's scheduled
stopover in the City of Splendors, afforded an ample reason for a meeting between the two gentlemen.
As Volo remembered it, Justin had always been a late sleeper—no doubt a habit borne out of many nights of
routinely wining and dining authors, agents, and booksellers (a practice the gazetteer wholeheartedly endorsed). So,
needless to say, Volo was more than a little surprised to find a message at his accommodations moving their meeting
up from the civilized hour of "noonish" (with the tacit promise
of a gratis lunch) to the ungodly hour of market opening, thus necessitating an early morning call that proved
most inconvenient for both himself and his hostess, Trixie. Still, Justin's advances did indeed finance his extravagant
accommodations, and so, slightly bleary-eyed, and not entirely rested, Volo set off for his publisher's office.
The streets were brimming with eager merchants en route to trade, peddlers hawking their wares from makeshift
mobile markets, and laborers trotting off to their common jobs. Volo did not envy any of his fellow commuters, and
quietly resented Justin's subjecting him to Waterdeep's legendary early-morning rush hour. Still, bills had to be paid.
By this time tomorrow, with any luck, he would once again be flush with gelt and ready to enjoy the freedoms of the
open road, where appointments were scheduled as "when you get there," and deadlines were set as "when the
manuscript is done."
All told. Justin's advances were more than worth this temporary inconvenience.
The crowded storefronts along the thoroughfare soon save way to extravagant office space for consulting
wizards, high-priced solicitors, and even more high-priced tavern clubs. Volo was entering the district where Tym
Waterdeep Limited had been situated since its origin as a print shop of "exotic pamphlets and titillating tomes'* years
ago. As business had prospered, so had the neighborhood, and the shadowy warehouse district had become the new
"in" place for professionals to set up shop.
Despite many buy-out offers from Kara-Turian interests and Cormyrian holding companies, Justin had steadfastly
maintained his independence, and prosperity had followed him.
In Tym's words, "he hadn't traded up; everyone else had traded down," and that was the way he liked it.
A new floor had been added to the storefront offices, overhanging yet another section of the already narrow
street. The road here was shadowy, not unlike some underworld back alley rather than a main Waterdeep
thoroughfare.
Business must be good, Volo thought. I wonder when
Justin will buy out his across-the-lane neighbor? Another expansion out and up, and he would undoubtedly
overhang their property.
As he had expected, the door was open, and Volo proceeded upstairs without impediment. Knowing Justin, he
thought, his office has to be on the top floor.
Four floors up, just beyond an unmanned reception desk with an office overlooking the busy thoroughfare below,
sat a tall, bespectacled, and almost entirely bald rogue. The publisher was nattily dressed in the most fashionable attire
gelt could acquire for his unathletic form. He took to his feet immediately to greet his star author.
"Volo, my boy, how long has it been?" he enthusiastically hailed.
"Longer than either of us would like to remember," the gazetteer responded, adding, "and since when have you
become an early bird? I almost doubted that the message was really from you."
The publisher hesitated for a moment and then jibed, " 'Tis the early bird that catches the wyrm, in business as
well as in dungeon crawling, I'm afraid."
Volo chuckled at the fellow's response, thinking to himself, Justin has never seen the inside of a dungeon in his
life, let alone crawled around in one. Still the old coot is a queer bird, if not an early bird at that.
Justin motioned to a chair for the house's star author and quickly returned to his place behind the desk.
Volo took a seat, kicked it back on its rear legs, set booted feet against Justin's expensive desk, made himself at
home, and asked absently, "So, how's business?"
"Couldn't be better," the publisher replied.
"Any new hot titles coming up?"