The Murder Hobos sit across the table from the Old Man in the darkened, road side Inn. The Old Man proposes a mission to the group: goblins infest the hills outside town. And goblins, as we know, are horrific fiends who steal babies and chew on children’s heads. Real nasty characters. They also gum up the place with goblin smell.
The Murder Hobos must travel to a nearby mountain, breach the Goblin Stronghold, kill all the goblins they see, and defeat the Goblin King. Roet Mudtwister. That King is a nasty bit of work with a bad reputation for foul language and a snaggle tooth. Then, the party must return to the Inn with proof of the deed. No time cap on this but make it quick, please. The goblins destroyed our fields. Think of the children. There is a reward.
In victory, the Murder Hobos will receive:
- all the magic loot they find;
- all the money they roll from goblin bodies
- and a payday of 4000 gold pieces, cash.
The Murder Hobos weigh the risks of this mission against the worth of the payday. On one side of the risk equation, they face possible death at the hands of furiously angry goblins (less risk with a Cleric who can cast Raise Dead although if the Cleric dies, risk rises). Goblins are noxious characters and Goblin Kings doubly so. On the other side of the equation they bag:
- Cash payout;
- Possible magic upgrades;
- Experience;
- Heroism! Save the village and win the day!
This is a pretty sweet deal for the Murder Hobo party of the exact right level. Too low-level and the goblins will obliterate the Murder Hobos. Too high level and the side quest provides neither enough payout nor reward enticement for the Murder Hobos. The Old Man prices the Side Quest to a party of a precise level band.
For this particular group, the rewards vastly outweigh the risk. They have a deal.
The Old Man puts up no money up front. The Murder Hobos buy their supplies with their own cash, suit up, and follow the road to the mountain. A week later, they return with the head of King Roet Mudtwister, snaggle tooth and all. They’ve paid themselves back on their pre-adventure loan to themselves and made a bit more. High risk paid off with high reward. Murder Hoboing is lucrative business.
The Old Man hands over the coin purse with 4000 gold pieces. The village is, theoretically, saved.
But what’s in it for the Old Man?
Let’s assume for a moment the Old Man is not an altruistic lover of villagers and hater of all goblinkind. Nor is he sitting in the same Inn with the same offer of 4000 gold pieces waiting for the level-correct Murder Hobos to wander in for his health. What’s in the side quest business for the Old Man?
This particular Old Man has a story.
The goblins moved in under the mountain a century ago. Then, they established their village and Goblin King. The goblins quietly toiled away in their underground community while human and demi-human farming villages popped up around them. Separate but at peace.
A few years ago, while mining, the goblins discovered their mountain sat on a highly valuable hot salt vein and spring. Applying a little goblin ingenuity and goblin Rube Goldberg-like mechanical engineering, they extracted the salt slurry into a high-grade and highly valuable salt production line. Even goblins need salt to preserve food. They had a handful of magic spells and items keeping food preserved but, much like people, goblins pack fish and game into giant barrels of salt. No longer did goblins venture out to deal with humans to purchase salt or scoop up salty sand from far-flung beaches. Salt was here, under their mountain.
The salt production was so efficient, salt overflowed goblin storerooms. So, the goblins started selling salt in the nearby village markets for low prices. They undercut local human-based salt production and into the local Salt Merchant Guild’s profits. Goblin salt was clearer. Goblin salt was better. And Goblin salt was cheaper.
Sensing a possible business deal in the International Side Quest Industry, the Old Man traveled to the Goblin’s Mountain with a party of his favorite and most trusted Dwarven surveyors to perform a property assessment. “10,000 gold pieces,” the Dwarf told the Old Man. “That’s how much this mountain is worth considering the roads and the layout of the tunnels — and not including the salt business. Just the land. 10,000 gold pieces. Need to get rid of those goblins, though. Nasty business, goblins.”
The Old Man met with the Transmuter Bankers who turn anything, including Goblin Mountains currently full of Goblins, into gold. And they gave the Old Man a loan on this security — an investment on a future, essentially. They fronted the Old Man cash on his possible land investment. The Old Man found a buyer for his contract on the mountain at the assessed price: the local Salt Merchant’s Guild. They exchanged their margins on the futures contract on the land through the bankers.
All the Old Man needed to maturate were some Murder Hobos. The Old Man took a gamble. His risks were:
- in the land deal between him, the Bankers who hold his loan, and the Salt Merchant’s Guild who will buy the Goblin Mountain;
- that the right Murder Hobos would come along and take him up on the deal.
This worked out. The Salt Merchant Guild paid the Old Man 10,000 gold for the contract to get the salt mines plus the goblins exited their business. The Old Man paid off the Bankers the 4000 gold plus interest. The Old Man walked off with nearly a 60% profit which he shared a percentage with the Dwarves. Everyone (except the goblins) won.
Isn’t Murder Hoboing profitable?
Once this deal wound up, the Old Man moved on to the next land speculation deal.
Speculative Investment in Murder Hobos
The Murder Hobos are the agent of change in Side Quests land swap deals. The giant in the cave? He’s blocking further silver mining. That evil temple over there? Send some Murder Hobos to clean it out and renovate it as an excellent open air mall and dining experience. And that castle owned by one of the Lich Kings? Kill the Lich King, take the castle, and invest in a valuable hotel and resort destination!
But getting Murder Hobos off the ground is expensive. That starting equipment isn’t free. They economy requires Murder Hobo patrons.
Murder Hobos are highly speculative investments; if one of the Patron’s teams happens to cash out on taking out a high value and annoying monster while the Patron is holding the contract for that land, the bet pays out big. The monster is gone, the land is his, the Patron pays out to the Old Man on his contract, uses whatever he will with the land deal (hint: nothing good), and makes more money to invest in more Murder Hobos. The Patron only needs a handful to pay out to finance his entire enterprise.
The chain starts with speculative investment in Murder Hobos in a hodge podge corporation known as “Adventuring Guilds.” Patrons pay up front to clothe, lodge, train, and arm potential Murder Hobos. Trainers group the potential adventurers together into teams who work reasonably well together. This is a non-trivial investment in energy, money and time.
Then, the Patron sends the 1st level characters out into the world while promptly investing in the next set of Murder Hobos. He hopes his teams see the advertisements of the various Old Men with side quests — the typical rumors, roadside signs, and the people bribed to point Murder Hobos to the local Inn.
And of course, in the example above, the Salt Merchant’s Guild has monetary investment and receives dividends on success from the local Adventuring Guild. Not only do they cut a competitor in the goblins, they pick up land, they acquire the already pre-built goblin facilities for harvesting salt, and they receive a payout on guild dues from the Side Questing Murder Hobos. Not bad for their money.
The Murder Hobo Bubble
Once people get hold of this highly unregulated, largely under ground, and puppeted by Bankers financial system, it’s a matter of time before anyone with a bit of money invests in the local Adventuring Guilds hoping to cash out on land deals from Side Quests. More Murder Hobos means more shots at completing the quest means reaping more land back from Evil while receiving a payout. And the Old Man doesn’t pay out to Murder Hobos unless they succeed in their Quest. It’s win-win.
Like all highly speculative markets with no regulation and no sanity, this is bubbly market. Bubbly markets leads to investment mania. And in investment mania, everyone eventually has a good time then loses their pants.
And this example goes something like this…
More people invest in creating more Murder Hobos teams through Adventuring Guilds hoping for more Side Quest payouts from possible futures land contracts while they simultaneously buy into Goblin Land Contract Market. Investors realize they can make money at both sides of the Murder Hobo economic system. And it’s not hard to get gullible people to sign up to an Adventuring Guild to feed the investment maw. Being a Murder Hobo is more lucrative than, say, farming or tanning. More deadly, but certainly more lucrative.
Because suddenly it’s an Old Man sellers market from the spike in Murder Hobo buyers, payout prices for successful Side Quest completion crash. Hey, it’s an elastic price! Instead of 4000 gold pieces, maybe the Old Man can offer 400 gold pieces to passing Murder Hobos and get takers. High Level Murder Hobos pass on these Side Quests (risk to reward is too low; see above on Murder Hobo Risk) but low-level Murder Hobos try for it. Most 1st level Murder Hobos die in their great short-lived 1st level glory but some do level up in time and survive. Land deals cash out at an increasingly frantic pace. The investment cycle lives on.
Meanwhile, the payout price crash means plots for land acquisition under the humanoids balloon – the Old Man will see 90% profit if he can get some 1st leveled Murder Hobos to take his quest and survive. That’s too much reward for the risk. More Old Men (where do they come from?) get in on the contracting and selling of currently-owned land business to get a piece of the action.
More Old Men handing out Side Quests means a space crunch in the Inns. They cannot sit next to each other like Side-Quest-giver kiosks. That would be weird. And a space crunch means more Inns which needs more land. No doubt that land is being held by some nice family of Kobolds. It will look fine as an Inn. More quests! More Murder Hobos!
Dwarves running land assessment and appraisal businesses see business boom.
Everyone is in on the game trying to either become a Murder Hobo (easy but quick way to die), get in on shares on Adventuring Guilds (less easy and expensive), taking up space in an Inn as an Official Old Man (few by now actually old or, in fact, men), or speculating on all the ancestral land of the various humanoid and otherwise so-called “evil” species. Inns turn into the Starbucks of the Adventuring world — Inns are across the street from Inns in towns made entirely of services catering to Murder Hobos and Inns. It is Inns all the way down.
Eventually this happens.
- People realize Murder Hoboing is a good way to die and quit trying for easy and quick loot, drying up the Murder Hobo supply;
- Side Quests disappear as the hordes of 1st level Murder Hobos destroy the “evil” races;
- Old Men run out of money paying interest on loans on land they do not own as real Murder Hobos become scarce;
- Inns take up all the land in villages;
- Investors no longer seeing big and fast payouts for land contracts exit the market.
Not enough land or murder hobos or speculators are left in the market to support it. People bail out of the market in a panic. Overbuilt Inns go out of business. Old Men go back to retirement. Farmers stop trying to learn how to use a Bec de Corbin. Adventuring Guilds close. Salt Merchant Guilds must contend themselves with selling regular salt. The Goblin Land Contract Market slinks back into obscurity. Professional Murder Hobos are enormously annoyed.
And the Murder Hobo/Side Questing economy crashes. Decades pass before anyone receives any new Side Quests. Murder Hobos are stuck doing the main quest only. Many die on final bosses from being under-leveled in this sad and trying time.
Transmuter Bankers make one hell of a pile of money.
But what of the Old Man?
He’s still in his corner of the dark gloomy Inn, shilling out Side Quests for which he can no longer pay.
If you replace “murder hobo” with “prospector” and “monster” with “mineral wealth” you have basically described every gold rush ever.
And thus, my son, did the Empire fall into the Dark Night, leaving behind huge swaths of ruins overrun by the descendants of the goblins who survived the Great Murder Hobo March.
I am so enjoying these fantasy economic pieces, and how you are slowly building an interconnected world where the Old Men force bubbles, Ozmo uses internet marketing strategies of free to pay merchandise, and neoliberal freedom of the market incites slavery and a gradual moral grading to neutral evil. A prof friend of mine in design said he didn’t get it, but as I am (hopefully) finishing my thesis in economic discourse this year, I don’t see how one could not. Kudos, I hope one day you publish a gazetteer, and I am inspired to continue my blogging when this degree is in the bag.
And all those Wizard Bankers wind up holding a lot of worthless paper instead of recouping on their loans. This is “do not meddle in the affairs of wizards” territory — what do they do to try to claw back the debts…?
At some point the murder hobos will see that the old man is the true evil and will kill him. That is when the true bubble burst will be. After all, is there anything more evil than investment bankers who play with people’s lives?
I don’t know why moral commentry seems to be be absent these sorts of things like magic leaving middle earth is gone.
“Sociopaths make complicated fiscal geometries!”
Sure they do. So why leave it there?
So, in essence, any villain worth his salt would become the old man or a banker… With the added bonus of leaving only underleveled murder hobos to face him…
I think you are missing out on a potentially lucrative part of this Murder Hobo market, Murder Hobo Insurance. These insurance policies are incredibly high risk, but package them together and it might seem like a good investment to someone. Better yet, they can be short sold so investors can even make a profit on policies that pay out.
The policies are paid to the guild in event of a TPK, and that payout can be reinvested back into the Murder Hobo economy.
What the fuck do I care, I didn’t invest in any of it…oh wait, you’re going to steal from me (taxes) to bail the Murder Hobo industry out aren’t you?
And let’s not forget the knock-on effects to the traditional economy:
– A labor scarcity in trades and farming, as workers chase the murder hobo wage bubble
– A consequent over-supply of murder-hoboing skilled workers after the bubble crash, possibly leading to bands of armed and highly-leveled bandits infesting the countryside (fun fact: this happened a lot for real after big Medieval wars, and still happens today in failed states).
– The depletion of scarce commodities that get redirected into the murder hobo industry; prices for steel, burlap, and healing-potion ingredients also balloon, putting them out of reach of industries with lower ROI rates.
– Excess production capacity for brewers, as they increase their production scales to meet the demand of the new inns. When the bubble bursts, the price of ale will settle into a new lower equilibrium. Smaller producers will go bankrupt, but larger brewers will be able to cut costs through economies of scale, leading to a massive consolidation of the brewing industry. Ale becomes cheaper than ever, but also crappier.