Startup 30: Working Vacation

Arodus 16

As I approached the guard room, I heard a quiet tapping on the wall. Two quick, sharp raps followed by a quick flurry of muffled thumps. (Passive Perception 21) There weren’t many rooms to be found, so I opened the door and slipped in, hoping to make some new friends.

I was greeted with the sight of four people rapidly stuffing their forms into armor. They were clearly different races; their skin ranged from a smooth corpse white to shaggy black fur. All four, however, had hulking frames with bulging, uneven muscles. The thick padding and armor covered them, making them appear uniform by the time they were all fully dressed. They each stood at attention, arms crossed in front of them, without a weapon in sight.

“I’m sorry to disturb you.” I said in Undercommon. “There just isn’t much to do on this ship. Any suggestions?”

They all looked at me through their eye slits in mute incomprehension. They clearly had never been taught Undercommon, likely to help control them. (Sense Motive Critical Success)

I’ve seen them responding to signs, but I don’t know if I want to out myself right now.

I did the only thing I knew would pierce the language barrier: I chose one at random and read their thoughts. (Read Thoughts)

I locked gazes with the nearest guard, seeing his large red eyes set in a dark green face. He tensed even further as my mind touched his.

“He’s in my mind! Does he know-“ (Target succeeded a will save vs Read Minds)

He let out an involuntary squeak and fell to his knees immediately, prostrating himself. He let out a wet gurgling noise I didn’t recognize.

“Stop, stop.” I said gently, defaulting to common since it didn’t seem to matter. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

He collapsed, his breathing slowly reaching a steady rhythm while the other three watched with interest.

(Diplomacy through a language barrier 20+12-20=critical success)

You have gained one point of collective sway with the **** guards of House D’Lann

I started speaking to them in every language I now spoke, figuring it couldn’t hurt. The pale one perked up when I stumbled through a few words of elven.

“Do you understand me?” I asked in that tongue. “Can you speak?”

He nodded slowly, then shook his head. He pulled off his helmet, revealing a puffy, asymmetric face. His left eye was **** into a perpetual squint by some kind of tumorous growth on the left side and his pointed ear stuck out from the side of his head when it wasn’t crushed down by his helmet. He opened his mouth, showing me a dark pit without a tongue. Then, to drive the point home, he showed his hands. They were locked in iron mesh mittens.

They may know drow signs, but I doubt they can get much through, with how subtle DSL is. Poor bastards.

“Oh.” I said, wincing internally. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to dredge up bad memories.”

He shrugged and replaced his helmet. I stood, not sure how to proceed. I couldn’t ask for names, have a chat, or anything else I’d normally default to to establish rapport. I didn’t know a damn thing about these people, their situation, or what they wanted. They were obviously in a subordinate position, and that meant potential allies or at least friends. Just barging in, however, didn’t seem like it had made a great first impression.

“I’m sorry to have disturbed you all while you were resting. I’ll leave you alone.” I said in elven, bowing slightly, “Would you be willing to have me as a guest some other time on the trip back?”

Give them some choices. The gods know they probably don’t get enough of those.

The elf, because I couldn’t think of him as a creature, nodded. I closed the door behind me, but listened. I heard staccato tapping in the room, almost from the exact second that I closed the door. The simple code was too basic to communicate complex ideas, but those four slaves apparently had quite a lot to say to one another. (Linguistics 12+11=23)

Your Shadow Puppet has been disrupted through Dispel Magic

Autopilot only knew one other place he might be able to hide from Nendra for a short time; I scrambled down the short hallway to the cargo hold. The stink of bilgewater washed over me as I entered the room, but that was exactly what would protect me from Nendra. She was far too good to subject herself to such conditions, and considered leaving me there punishment enough.

I relaxed as well as I could in the hold, reading through my character sheet more completely and trying once more to dig something of value out of the SRD. More importantly, I had Autopilot chain cast cantrips to measure time. Almost half an hour before Nendra sent one of the guards in to retrieve me from among the boxes and barrels. I went along with it with a smile; I had the information I needed.

I think Nendra would have liked to dispel Keep Watch when she went to bed, but her magic from Drow Noble matched mine; she'd used her one dispel per day on removing my shadow from her door. Instead she gave me a sour look and ordered me to stay in the corner. That wasn’t any trouble. I had plans to make.

••••••••••

Arodus 17

Nendra woke to find me sitting in her chair, reading one of her books. It wasn’t a bad read; a bit more focused on rich and powerful guys giving women oral than most stories I listen to, but better than the SRD by a long shot. Better than one of Maddie’s weird dramas about Koreans in increasingly ridiculous situations, too. The court was still out on how they stacked up against Syl’s dime novels.

A small bell chimed next to her, which she silenced with a gesture. It waited about fifteen minutes to chime again in a process that repeated five times before she finally gave in and rose. She looked a lot cuter with her hair in disarray, especially since she wasn’t glaring at me. She shuffled over to a small vanity built into the wall and fixed her hair. No makeup for a day on the ship, apparently.

https://postimg.cc/hX2zdJ5q

Is this some kind of power play where she ignores me?

She disabused me of that notion by jumping slightly when she turned to look at me. Her neutral, sleepy expression morphed into a grimace of fury.

“That is my chair.” She hissed, with special emphasis on the word my, “and my book.”

“And they are entirely unharmed.” I countered, not standing.

“Get up.” She ordered me, crossing her arms.

I smiled a few moments later, feeling a wordless pressure in my limbs trying to launch me out of the chair. I made my save; there was nothing she could do.

She slept for a solid nine hours. Of course, she doesn’t seem to have anything urgent to do, but it’s good to know. I can plan around that. Let her think that I just wanted to get a rise out of her.

“Go prepare me some breakfast.” She commanded coldly. “The best you can make.”

Even before I processed her words, I was hopping down to the cold floorboards and leaving the room. (Spell Resistance Pierced. Will Saving throw vs. Suggestion 7+7=14. Fail)

I was a passenger in my body as Autopilot hurried down to the galley and prepared Nendra a fairly basic cheese omelet with onions and peppers (Profession: Cook 3+7=10) Apparently old Kroop wasn’t the only one who kept chickens in his galley. I could make small suggestions, like making a second one for us to eat or talking to myself out loud, but I couldn’t stop my body from following the suggestion.

Of course, the magic ended the moment Nendra’s omelet was plated. I had almost no intention of bringing it to her, but wasn’t sure how exactly to proceed.

Tell her where she can pick it up? Leave it here and ignore the whole exchange? Eat two omelets?

Kiyon of all people saved me from the dilemma. A shadowy hand snatched up the small silver plate and briskly walked out of the galley.

“Already, dear boy?” He said, tutting and shaking his head. “Usually she doesn’t send you to the galley until a few days into the voyage. If she’s irritated it might be best that you leave her for a time. Care for some tea?”

••••••••••

Arodus 18

Kiyon invited me to tea every afternoon during the trip. He and Dovnu each slept for half of the day, letting the other rest and sharing the night. I wasn’t entirely clear on the situation, but I assume Kiyon’s shadow puppets needed someone sapient around in the event of unexpected weather or the like.

It was extremely hard to remember that he was magically crewing the ship when he was happily sitting around in the common room, sipping tea and eating toast and jam. Even the food was apparently prepared by Kiyon through one of his shadows, and as I bit into the bread I wondered what else he could do with them. My new perk was less than useful, only telling me that he was able to summon a variety of powerful shadow puppets without elaborating on their abilities in turn.

“I admit I’m disappointed in how things are going.” He told me candidly. “I had high hopes when you joined the family. I always knew there was more to you than you let on, but the way you chose to prove me right is possibly the most vexing one you could have chosen.”

“Am I supposed to apologize?” I asked, raising one eyebrow.

“That would be nice, yes, as disingenuous as it would be.” Kiyon answered, waving one hand at me. “You seem quite happy with the results, thus far. So, how did you discover this strange quality you apparently have?”

“Which one?” I asked cautiously.

“The one by which you became nobility through a thoroughly irregular process.” He said with a chuckle. “Would that it had been so easy for me, or even for Nendra.”

I checked in with Autopilot briefly, drinking some tea to cover my delay, before answering.

Were they not born as nobility?

Nendra was. Kiyon needed to be injected with Abyssal quintessence. One in ten second sons survive such a process, and less than half of those absorb the energy as well as he did.

“I think it comes from laying with non-drow specifically.” I said cautiously. “I am not at all sure about the details, only that it made me marginally stronger at a time I needed the strength. I was essentially stress testing the process by the time you three caught me. What do you mean about Nendra? Wasn’t she born with her magic?”

“You know better than most how it has affected her.” Kiyon said sadly. “She does care for you, you know. My Mistress would have had you disposed of years ago if she hadn’t interceded on your behalf.”

“I’ll thank her if we are ever on good enough terms for a civil conversation.” I said diplomatically. “She’s been very forceful for the last few days.”

“Please do.” Kiyon said, then sighed. “You are sure you can not simply return and attempt to coexist with Nendra on more equitable terms?”

“If I hadn’t built something already… probably still no, to be honest.” I admitted. “Even setting aside the contract, I’m not sure if even a dynamic like you have with Dovnu is really plausible. Nendra doesn’t seem open to that.”

“I needed to prove my trustworthiness to Dovnu over many years.” Kiyon assured me. “This was a relationship we built together, after my initial purchase.”

“I want more.” I said. “I intend to take it.”

Kiyon raised one eyebrow and put down his teacup.

“Bold.” He said, “You will be an adequate sparring partner for Nendra, even if you proved a poor match up to this point. I do hope you prove more capable when acting on your own behalf. It is in your nature, I suppose.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked, cocking my head to the side.

“Your fiendish blood is that of a rakshasa.” Kiyon pointed out. “Selfishness and hedonism are in your blood. At this point I wonder if your mother has had a few discrete orgies; no other explanation presents itself.

Uh. Sorry mom. Wait. Dovnu mentioned our mom would be upset if we were killed outright. Better to nip any rumors in the bud. Even if it turns out that’s why my menu is so horny at times, I doubt she wants that reputation if she doesn’t already have it.

“I think she’d have told me if that were the secret.” I said in a thoughtful tone, then shook my head. “I doubt it. She’s a powerful woman; if she wanted to have an army of lovers to become more powerful, she could just do so and deal with the resulting reputation.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Kiyon agreed, though there was a twinkle in his eye. “Her lack of fertility alone would be an adequate explanation for a multitude of lovers.”

“So, how has business been going in the last few months?” I asked, pivoting away from myself.

“Oh, well enough I suppose.” Kiyon said, waving one hand. “Dovnu purchased me another scribe the day you left, which usually means she’s had a good year.”

“Of course.” I said, “Perhaps that’s why she’s seemed to be in a forgiving mood.”

“Surely.” Kiyon agreed, “That and House N’Quin making another bid to compete with us. She’s really quite busy with skullduggery.”

N’Quin?

A clan of Drow who chose to become mundane craftsmen, and then were surprised that those stronger than them restrict their access to customers. Dovnu worked hard to attain sole access to the sea route out of Heslandaena. (Knowledge Local 7+7=14)

Ah. She’s trying to maintain a monopoly. Doesn’t say much positive about Nendra that Dovnu doesn’t want to keep her on hand for that.

I spun Kiyon a yarn about my time abroad, which was partially true. I told him of my time aboard the Wormwood, and of Plugg’s ham fisted attempts to control me. I carefully implied that Sandara was the weather witch and Syl the conjurer. Dovnu and Kiyon obviously knew I was stronger, but I implied that my own advancements were restricted to my frost blast and shadow puppet. Impressive, but not key to my strategy. Kiyon smiled and sipped his tea. (Bluff 4+12=16)

••••••••

Arodus 19

I returned to the guard room each day. They weren’t very good conversationalists, but I could only fully relax in their company. I wasn’t foolish enough to think I could fully trust Kiyon.

Speaking of trust, all four of the guards had agreed to let me into their minds for a very specific purpose.

“Bartok.” I said, looking the mutant hobgoblin in the eye. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The three other guards cheered and clapped their comrade on the shoulder. I smiled, but my heart sank when I looked at these four. My absolute best plan, assuming absolutely everything went off without a hitch, only had two seats on the metaphorical escape rocket. I couldn’t promise them much, not without lying. The best I could do was let each of the four have their names back, plucked directly from their thoughts.

Bartok, Wetosa, Filli, and Tam Llova. I’d be happy to take four more fighters onto my ship, but I don’t think I have a way to get you there.

“Yes, well, L’Rath had to come up with something useful eventually.” Kiyon had said when I’d made inquiries. “Creating such unsightly ogres is a waste of perfectly good slaves, if you ask me, but the Mistress likes their discretion. I look forward to disposing of them once we can find less grotesque security we can rely upon.”

Kiyon is nicer to me, another drow male, than the two women. That doesn’t mean he’s a good guy in general. I need to remember that.

I didn’t want to seem too interested in them, so I didn’t directly ask to buy the guards, but I managed to get the price Dovnu initially paid. One hundred gold each. Pennies, at least compared to me, and I wanted them to stay that cheap in Dovnu’s eyes. That meant they couldn’t visibly be a bargaining chip for dealing with me.

They’d started keeping their helmets off around me, which was a mixed bag. Tam, the elf, was rather unpleasant to look at due to the way his ears jutted out from his head, but the others certainly weren’t lookers either. Bartok and Wetosa were hobgoblins, which were visually just normal goblins but human sized and with a wider range of skin tones. Filli, a giant rat person with a distinctly inhuman face, was honestly the least disturbing to look at; an unhealthily buff giant rat wasn’t all that much harder to wrap my head around than a normal rat girl would have been.

Regardless, they were pleasant company once they relaxed a little. They’d worked out some kind of rudimentary language by knocking on wood; basic stuff like “one knock for yes, two knocks for no” combined with pantomime. They couldn’t communicate anything too complicated, especially since they didn’t even share an alphabet in their native tongues, but they didn’t have much else to do all day. Once I got that much out of them, I was able to play 20 questions, which they tolerated as long as I shared the answers.

If I only had three friends and couldn’t even talk, I’d want to know more too.

The poor bastards didn’t like to talk about how they’d become the way they were, and unlike personal questions I was the only person who didn’t already know the story. I was only able to get a few snippets. They’d all been captured as children and brought to a dark place; they went through puberty there, with a special diet and lots of injections. Some of the kids developed magic and were carted off, never to be seen again. Most went crazy, or just died. The ones who could follow orders and understand drow signs were sold off to nicer masters, where they got far better treatment.

This state, where they were allowed to lounge around and eat basically nourishing food? This was what they’d been hoping for. The best they could have realistically expected. Even if I took them away, they’d be replaced within a few weeks or months. I’d be making myself feel better if I helped my new friends, but that was all.

Damn it. I don’t really want to go to war with mad scientist elves, but this is fucked up. At least I can justify putting it on the back burner. These guys first. The rest later.

••••••••••

Arodus 22

I took a week to internalize everyone’s schedules before I was willing to take any risks. I wasn’t on the clock just yet, and letting anything slip would be a good way to absolutely fuck myself. We were only a few days away according to Kiyon, and I wanted to make sure part one of my plan was viable.

Nendra is in bed, and should be for five more hours. Kiyon is asleep, and Dovnu is on the deck with Kiyon’s familiar for company. No one could possibly be watching me unless they are so damn good at sneaking around nonmagically that I haven’t noticed them all week. Even invisibility would just highlight them for me now, thanks to my new peepers.

Teleporting outsiders were something of a problem for binding; there was a reason that I’d never called any before. They couldn’t physically move beyond the area I designated, but they could bypass that restriction entirely with the right magic. I’d been planning on asking Sandara to use a magic circle spell or call for something relatively benevolent and plead my case, but my new class offered me a different option.

I carefully froze the water in the bilges with my ray, creating a diagram out of ice that would melt away in a few hours and leave no trace of my activities. When infused with magic, the circle radiated the power of chaos: my strongest affinity. With such a trap in place, it was childsplay to call forth a minor devil from the Hells. (Diagram + Call Outsider, costing 3 2nd level spells)

He struggled briefly but perfunctorily; minor devils were used to this kind of treatment. If I were enough of a dumbass to call him without proper bonds he’d fuck off to Disneyland for a few days and start torturing animals, but once he established that I wasn’t that foolish he accepted his fate. It was an ugly little shit, resembling a human baby with black insect parts grafted on. He spoke in Infernal, a language I was happily fluent in as of one week prior.

“Alright, what do you want?” He asked with a faint New Yorker accent. “I don’t work for free.”

“No problem,” I agreed placidly. “I have two payments. First, you get half an hour with this rat.”

I held up the rodent in question, an unlucky specimen I’d stunned with a frost blast while making my diagram. The imp looked at it with interest; I didn’t intend to watch the whole exchange but this rat was going to have an even worse day after I left. I wasn’t proud, but my bribe budget was pretty slim.

“Oh, before we exchange payment or instructions, are you familiar with Port Peril?” I asked. “You’re mostly useless for my primary plan if not, but I’m sure I can think of something for you to do.”

As it turns out, this random devil had never been to the specific city I needed a message delivered to. That was certainly unfortunate, but not unexpected. After a brief interrogation, he explained that he’d done most of his recent work as a messenger in a place called Mendev. Apparently that nation had quite a demon problem.

“For the sake of this pact, allied entities is defined as mortals, celestials, and entities allied directly to such who do not fall under the category of enemy,” I said, using the legalistic formal style of Infernal, “Enemy is defined as those verifiably allied to the Abyss and participating in aggressive action against the nation of Mendev or its allies, including and limited to Demons, mortal cultists, and undead thralls. While avoiding any harm, including financial losses as well as intelligence breaches and physical injury, to allies or potential allies and with full permission to cause harm to enemies, go to Mendev and collect fungible, nonhazardous resources for me worth at least one gold piece per pound. Hazardous in this context means…”

I laid out the contract in a few sentences. The translation looks longer than the actual verbal statement, I promise. The short version is that I wanted him to go rob some demon cultists blind if he could do so over the next few days, sell anything magical to a bunch of paladins at as steep a discount as necessary, and stow the cash in the back right corner of the hold for me to retrieve later, all without doing anything that would lead back to me.

Not much of a TLDR in retrospect, but devils are like that. The imp was almost certainly smarter than a dretch, and I didn’t want him getting creative with my orders. On a normal day I wouldn’t have bothered, but I’d spent three spell points and half an hour on this little bastard. I wanted a return on investment. More importantly, I wanted to do something, anything to start digging out of this hole I was in.

After the first one was gone, I started again.

Focus on the positive, Curtis. You can do this three times in one day. The diagram makes bullying these small fries really easy. You only need one to be familiar with Port Peril, and then you have your go-to guy. Things are looking up.

I looked around the dark room while Autopilot summoned the next Zebub. I was thankfully nose-blind, and had stripped off my pants and shoes so that I wouldn’t ruin them with the grimy water.

Yup. I thought sarcastically, Everything is coming up aces.