A New Acquaintance

Precious Vein is one of the biggest Pleasure Palaces in the old sector of Sweetpot Riverport. A house of prostitution, basically, but dwarven style, like most of the buildings from the times of foundation of this city that still exist. The neighbourhood is protected by its own walls and towers of vigilance, close enough to the port to stay relevant. Elegant and clean enough to attract some of the best noblemen in the city.

Despite the fact that a more recently build and fashionable prostitution sector was in activity in the opposite side of Sweetpot.

We were here under invitation from the owner. Madam Gwanda. A dwarven merchant who was temporarily head of her family according to dwarven law. In the lack of a legitimate male dwarf heir. The Madam was a friend of my recently met magic professor, Healer Maestra Verenice. There was many odd things about their biography, as Verenice presented it.

Verenice was seemingly human, and seemingly in her 20’s, but in her tales she supposedly was working for my grandmother’s family before my grandmother and my grandfather met. What happened when they were children, apparently.

Madam Gwanda being that old posed no difficulty. By what I had been told dwarves live on average 600 years, and reach legal status as adults when they are 50 years old.

I was less worried about that than I was worried about the appearance of female dwarves. Because on Earth we have a classic debate about whether or not female dwarves have beards. Verenice had suggested they wanted something from me that would not be possible, likely, if the worse prospects about female dwarves proved right. Least, I didn’t felt in condition to guarantee the satisfaction of their demands.

Maestra Verenice seemed confident that her Transmutation Spell, used to make me temporarily and exact copy of my grandfather when he was a young adult, was enough to grant me the “natural instincts” of my ancestor. Who, giving credit to the healer, had no difficulty with certain detains of human-dwarven relations.

I was happy to see that Madam Gwanda had in fact no facial hair worth write home about. She was a short and solid build women, her hair was the colour of honey, metallic green eyes and dress. Round face, big breasts, voluptuous curves. A delicious image of a fantasy dwarf, with a smile that would not be out of character in a halfling maiden. Looking at her I was immediately convinced she was the most honest and likeable person I had ever met. Someone who smiles like that cannot be hiding any shady plot in the corners of her mind!

She invited us to her table, after salute Verenice as one welcomes a dear friend. Who owns you her weight in gold.

Then the ‘spell’ was broken, and something reminded me that the was the head of a Merchant House. One specialized in prostitution and not above of selling the services of pleasure-slave lassies.

Verenice had insisted to keep in secret the fact that I am only 11 years old. Well, I was born in this world 11 years ago, but aside my body I am somewhat older than that. 63 years old, if pleases you. Considering the transmutation spell, I don’t know what age should count. However, my Maestra do not know any of that, by what she knows I am an 11 years old (and virgin) boy.

What raises potential question about Verenice’s moral compass. Depending on how we consider those things.

Sweetpot Riverport was founded back in a time when this place as the necessary passage for a region full of rich mines of gold and a much more valuable metal used to forge the best magic tools and weapons. The mines are now dead, all their value consumed, in the best cases. “We have dig too deep and do not like what we found” scenario otherwise. No one mines in that region, only desperate humans and insane monsters remain there, place is isolated from the rest of the surface.

New routes of commerce have developed, new activities, now that part of the land is just a reference on the map saying you must travel around it. No big deal.

Agriculture in the north and a number of different things in the south-west made this position on the map important again. After a time of desolation and misery in Sweetpot, when this was almost a ghost town.

Well, in the beginning, when the mines were starting to became important. This was a “Pleasure Village”, what is more or less what you are imagining.

Some fancy and expensive prostitutes, free and richly rewarded for their services. Larger number of brothels running on sex-slaves. Slave was the most characteristic merchandise in the Municipal Market back them. Human and dwarves explored the mines in partnership, that was the main business of dwarves in this region. One less prestigious dwarven family lost its share in a mining operation, and decided to move into the pleasure business industry of Sweetpot.

Long time passed a dwarven of this family almost burned all their patrimony in a frustrated quest for some Demon Treasure in ancient ruins of the Demon Continent far away from here. The adventure costed this scholar dwarf born Merchant Caste its life.

His only heir was a daughter, who accompanied her father and tolerated his obsession, but always dreamed with the chance to came back and rebuild the family business.

By the time when her father died, Sweetpot was still in very bad shape, she and her fellow adventure companions tried their luck one last time, in a risky gamble against foolish chance of death, and came back with enough money for her to pay her father’s debts and start business again. Grandfather and grandmother expended all their share buying a new start for themselves in the Skrull-Braker Mountains, the closest they dared to live from the civilized parts of our nation.

My father was born little after that.

Also around that time an earthquake caused by mystic experiment going wrong in the capital had as positive collateral effect a change in the river flow. The river near to the city is larger and deeper now, because of that. Allowing larger cargo vessels access to internal parts of the nation and to other nations further away from the sea. What forced the status of Sweetpot Riverport to be elevated. Enough to the protective spell to be made.

This smart and cute dwarven lassie increased her investment many times. However, she could have improved it a lot more. If, she had a half-human, noble-bastard, son or daughter.

“Problem here is relatively simple”. Didn’t looked like to me, but that was what Verenice said before take me to Precious Vein. I let you be the judge of that.

Dwarves and humans have a mutual distrust frame, by default. To work around it when there is enough motivation involved the high-born dwarven families, and noble human families, developed a strategy. Bastard half-breeds. Cannot be just any family from one side and the other, there are hermetic rules involved. However, that is how it is done, and it work.

Those bastard human-dwarf hybrids get free transit in high society, in both sides. Are able to negotiate trade deals and serve as diplomats in sensible matters of State. Without being properly welcome as part of either side.

Without a half-breed bastard in her family Madam Dwanda was unable to advance her own interests in this city. Which was no longer a half-human and half-dwarven city, but a purely human one. For practical purposes, the cute lassie with a 19 years old face was hostage of other dwarven families in the city. Since they had their proxies in local politics and she didn’t.

For some reason, she was specially interested in get herself a bastard from my grandfather’s noble family. Technically, mine too.

No artificial insemination on this world, apparently. What leaves only one method to satisfy the woman’s goals in political and business affairs. She had this contracted with my grandfather, but the man bounced before his part of the job was done.

I am worried to wonder why, since now is too late to walk away from this.

The moment we left the common hall and entered the private corridor that leads to her chamber all my clothes disappeared. She looked as surprised as I was. Only Maestra Verenice smiled.

“Dwarven private areas are protected against illusion magic, by default. As I mentioned to you before, my pupil”

“No! You most definitely did not mentioned it to me previously, ever, dear mentor”

“Must have slipped from my mind, then. I was sure that I had specified this point”

“No one is perfect”.

“Well, I have to visit some old friends in your kitchen and dungeons. Was a pleasure talk to you, old friend! See you back home, dear pupil.”

The dwarven woman was, somehow, embarrassed by this situation.

You would expect a person in her profession to be more casual about situations like this.

“That was completely uncalled for! I apologise in the name of Verenice. Despite her time living among ephemeral dwarvenoid races she still has some of her people’s eccentric sense of humour. I will fetch you a robe, please, follow me”

She was trying to avoid stare. I was trying to avoid that too, myself. I had not yet realized the size of my grandfather’s, intimate subject.

Certainly that was the first time I was seeing it in that, state.

Wasn’t sure why, but this was an intense and long -lasting state. Apparently motivated by some collateral effect of the transmutation spell. Interacting with all that extra energy my martial exercises had been building inside me for months.

“You really, really. Sorry, I should not say that, under situation like that. Still, you look really very much like your grandfather!! As I remember him.”

“You two were, close. I understand?”

“He was the last person like you, who I knew. In, intimate sense. My last lover, like you.”

“You mean, human?”

“No”

“Male?”

She giggle. Then laugh out loud, as if remembering some old joke.

“No, silly! I mean free. Someone in my position, women in my position even more so, we end up avoiding the complications of intimate relationships with people who have rights. Far simpler to warm our beds with those who are our property entirely. Or, at least bind into submission by some long-term contract of servitude stipulated by us.

Of course, to fall in love for a human paramour would be far less dangerous to me than any relationship with a free dwarf. Still, open to complications.”

“So, the plan is not to fall in love. Understood!”

“For now, the plan is to get you some clothes. I understand humans then to be more sensible to variation in temperature than we are. My chambers are likely to be too cold for your comfort right now.

Then we drink something, and talk about our prospects of business.

“Verenice has a contract with me, she intend to close a substantial debt by intermediating our deal. However, I would like to know you a little better first. Understand your position in that, for starts. Your mentor is very competent, and honoured in her own way, but experience taught me that is not wise to trust her too much. Her honesty is out of question, her common sense less so.”

“She is not human then?”

“Verenice? Human!? Most certainly, not. She isn’t. How about you?”

Now, that. That is a tricky question for me to ask, in this world.

Lest time I tried, someone accused me of being a liar.