Startup 63: Labor Laws

Rova 16, Midnight

Inquiry is a very official word. Clinical, really. It’s the most pretentious way of saying that you have a question I can think of, and it only really feels like the right word when the person asking is pretty serious. Official investigations, scientific studies, and apparently the invocation of eldritch spirits.

Sosima had an entire setup for her rituals of inquiry, since she did one nearly every night. A table covered with dribbled wax, the centerpiece a half burnt black candle. That’s all she needed, apparently. Even the melted wax was deliberate, giving her an easy surface to etch the binding seals into.

As far as rituals to call upon demigods go, inquiries weren’t exactly dangerous. They were, however, very rude.

“The spirits want to be exposed to the prime material, but inquiries barely allow them to touch our world.” She explained, carefully drawing a sigil of a circle with an x through it. “If one does not compel obedience, the process is a bit like offering a prisoner a crust of bread in return for information. Mutually beneficial, but slightly demeaning. With compulsion, it becomes an outright insult and **** service.”

“Are you sure you should be doing this every night, then?” I asked, “I get asking when there’s something you really need to know, but how many spirits can you really ask?”

Sosima gave me a melancholy smile.

“I’m unlikely to run out of things I’d like to know this year.” She said, “Besides, precious few spirits are so petty they will deny me service if I offer my body.”

“Phrasing.” I said absently, remembering something that might be useful.

Sosima blinked, and then let out a laugh.

“Yes, I suppose that does make the entire discipline of binding sound a bit crass.” Sosima said. “The clients do pay well, however.”

Naomi, sitting on her bed in the corner of the room, seemed uncomfortable at the thought.

“You may step out now, if you wish.” Sosima told her, “the ritual will begin soon.”

“I think I’d like to watch this time.” Naomi said. “If that’s alright.”

Sosima raised an eyebrow, but didn’t object. She turned to examine a clockwork timepiece she’d used most of her personal funds to purchase.

“Very well.” She said. “Any instructions I give Emrys shall apply to you as well, then. You won’t be in danger but the process may be unpleasant if you ignore me. Now then, the time is almost here, please gather around the table.”

She walked around the room, extinguishing the few lanterns.

“Before you finish, I think I’d like to try something that might help preserve your reputation among the spirits.” I said. “Would you like to try this ritual disguised as no one in particular?”

“If you can do it quickly, then go ahead.” Sosima said, “We should begin as close to midnight as can be arranged.”

I brought out Ve’ra, who as always rose up out of my shadow and became a red eyed silhouette on the wall. Like everyone in my party, she had the potential to pick up strange and interesting new powers when I leveled up.

“Ve’ra,” I said. “That new magic you figured out yesterday. I want you to use it on Sosima.”

“Hell yes!” Ve’ra said, grinning.

She stepped in close to Sosima’s shadow, passed through it, and then Sosima stepped out of her own shadow. Next to me at the table, a pretty Gillwoman examined Sosima’s insubstantial form.

Ve’ra used Steal Identity. Target did not resist.

I knew for a fact that the woman sitting at the table was Sosima. She certainly looked like Sosima; nothing about her appearance had changed, but it felt like seeing a doppelgänger of her that I knew wasn’t really the same person despite sharing literally every quality other than being Sosima.

Ve’ra’s disguise was nearly perfect, other than the lack of actual physical form. Her touch felt exactly the same as it did when she was in her shadow form, a sort of cool and indistinct pressure no one would mistake for flesh. That didn’t matter if she didn’t touch anyone, though. To anyone who wasn’t already suspicious, she was Sosima for the next hour.

Sosima- no, Ve’ra gave a little twirl, smiling at me and the original. Naomi stared, her mind not quite able to process the situation. The real Sosima raised her eyebrow, then checked her face in a mirror.

“How will having a second me in the room help?” She asked. “That seems rather counterproductive.”

“Trust me, no one will recognize you.” I said, then thought better of it. “Well, no one will necessarily recognize you. It’s an enchantment that makes you not look like yourself to others. You could be any beautiful Chelish Gillman. Now then, Ve’ra, wait in the hallway and don’t cause any mischief. If you do something that’ll embarrass Sima, I’ll be pissed.”

“Very well then.” Ve’ra said, “I will try to entertain myself elsewhere, I suppose.”

Damn. She even sounds like Sosima.

“There.” I said, “Zero Sosimas.”

“Fine, fine.” Sosima said, checking the hourglass again. “We should get started. I wish you’d brought this up sooner.”

“I wish I’d been informed enough to do so.”

She pointed at me in a duelist's salute, then finished extinguishing the lights. In the utter darkness, she took out a pin.

“I’ll admit, this part used to be much easier.” She said, carefully drawing a sigil in the wax next to the candle, “Darkvision made this part trivial. Now stay close to me; when the light comes, do not step into the darkness under any circumstance.”

Al’kra’s sigil was simple, a circle with a ragged x through it. As she drew the sigil, she began a slow, haunting dirge of a song. In it, a woodsman went searching for his lost son, only to find the boy’s bloody corpse mutilated and strung up in a burlap sack. A towering, faceless figure pursued him through the woods, and at the song’s conclusion he joined his son in the same tree.

As Sosima finished the grisly song, she struck a match and lit the black candle. Naomi shrieked, and I grabbed her to hold her in place. She didn’t actually try to run, but she struggled against my grip for a moment.

There, not so much appearing as only now becoming noticeable in the candlelight, stood a towering figure. Mostly black, with a porcelain white oval where his face would be. He stood silently, impassively, not reacting to anything.

“Al’kra.” Sosima whispered, “I am sorry to disturb you. I have need of your knowledge, and you will give it to me.”

She waited, seeming to listen to something as the entity in front of us stared blankly ahead.

“I wish to know the most relevant actions taken by the woman known as Lubo, prophet of Vishgurv, upon the most recent night of Rova 13, in the city known as Dragonsthrall.”

The tall man didn’t respond in any visible way, but Sosima gripped the table and shuddered, eyes screwed up tight. A dribble of blood spilled out of her nose, onto her upper lip. Sosima began coughing, a wet, sick noise.

“You may go.” She gasped out between coughs, but Al’kra stood perfectly still.

She reached for the candle snuffer, a small bell at the end of a stick, but knocked it to the side in her coughing fit. She couldn’t get a lungful of air, so blowing out the candle was right out. I didn’t know if a third party could safely end an inquiry, so I grabbed the snuffer and put it into her hand before guiding it to the small flame.

As the light went out, Al’kra’s presence went with it and Sosima’s coughing fit ended. She took a few moments to compose herself, straightening up and smoothing her skirts.

“Emrys, would you mind providing us with some light?” She asked, in the same cool tone she always used. “The ritual is complete. I’d like to write down a few notes while the experience is clear. As for your question, she was using magic providing a number of rather **** looking fellows in a cave with the necessary knowledge to perform a rough binding. Likely convicts slated for **** in any event. Some spell that allowed her to speak through shadows was involved.”

I cast Dancing Lights as requested, scowling as I did.

“So what, she left behind a bunch of new converts?” I asked.

“Hmm?” Sosima said, “Oh certainly not. Perhaps one in five manage a binding without the proper materials, even with proper training. She had them using effigies of fish scratched in the dirt when the full ritual requires a fresh caught fish. It’s likely they’ll just keep trying until they cause a minor ravager event. Perhaps one or two out of the fifty will manage to summon Vishgurv before that happens. If they’re lucky, one of them will call a single Ravager unto himself and that will scare them all off of the idea.”

I’d read about ravager spirits a long time ago; they were the spirits that didn’t maintain enough sense of self to do things like make pacts. They tended to just possess their summoner and go nuts, trying their hardest to pursue whatever random sensation they fixated upon in the moment. I didn’t want to think of a whole pack of them, even if realistically they’d get roasted by dragons pretty quickly.

“Thanks.” I said. “That should be all I need, I think.”

That’s one question answered. What I want to know now is what the fuck Slenderman was doing here.

We summoned him.

Shut up. That wasn’t some generic entity like a dragon or a zombie. That was literally a specific character from the internet in my world. You’re not going to convince me otherwise. He shouldn’t be here.

You’re here, are you not?

••••••••••

Rova 18, morning

I stepped into Lubo’s new room, arms crossed, and found her sitting in the corner. She hugged her knees, eyes screwed shut. Her breath came out in hard puffs of air. It took several seconds before she noticed I was even present, and when she did she scrambled to her feet with an indignant expression.

“Why?” She demanded, “Why am I confined? What have I done?”

Is she delusional or just really good at faking indignation? Who knows; she’s trouble either way. Time to respond in kind.

“For your protection.” I said. “Someone killed the other two Gillmen on the crew, and it seems likely that you’re in danger too.”

“So I am to be a caged bird, then?” She cried, “Kept for your amusement? This imprisonment is ****!”

“I certainly imagine it would be boring.” I said. “Unfortunately, I’m not willing to risk some kind of major incident until I can be sure you’re safe. I have plans for the next port we will be stopping in. Don’t worry; I don’t intend to keep you in this cabin forever.”

It’s just not in the budget to keep a woman confined long term on a ship; much better to hire professionals until the year is up, if not longer. Naomi seems a lot more comfortable with the idea of having her mother committed than killed.

“At least let me meet with my students.” She wheedled. “It would be a great comfort to have that much to do.”

“Sure, sure.” I said. “I’ve actually been going through the members of the crew that I can be certain weren’t the killer. I’m willing to let you work with a few of them that I’ve vetted. Filli asked if she could be one of them, if that’s ok. She‘s not a very good sailor, so I’m willing to let her act as a guard for you for the foreseeable future.”

“Oh?” Lubo said. “Oh yes, of course.”

“I know solitude can be rough, but trust me when I say this is for your own good.” I said. “I’d really prefer if nothing bad happens to you.”

Please, just let us contain you and no one gets hurt.

••••••••••

Rova 18, Dinner

“It’s a shame, really.” Sosima said, “She does seem quite talented, but we can’t risk someone so reckless on the crew.”

“Are you sure?” Asked one of the neophyte binders. “Lubo didn’t seem like the type to pick a fight like that.”

“It surprised me too.” I said, “Spirits don’t lie about this kind of thing, though. Lubo was trying to arrange a **** revolt, and doing so in a way far too likely to result in massive backlash. Even in the best case scenario, she’d be setting up those men to die fighting and the dragons would undoubtedly crack down.”

“It’s entirely possible she didn’t understand what she was doing.” Sosima said magnanimously, “She is hardly more than a novice herself.”

Sosima couldn’t shit talk Vishgurv. She was, however, not only able but actively eager to explain Lubo’s many shortcomings if they weren’t explicitly connected to her patron.

“Anyway, I know some of you have been getting tutoring from Lubo on binding.” I said, shifting to the real thrust of the presentation, “I’m fully in support of that; more magically inclined members of the crew would be excellent. Luckily, we have a few more people who can fill in that role.”

I stepped to the side, gesturing broadly at Sosima, Aaron, and Cave Mother.

“Sosima will be focusing on Vishgurv training, while Aaron provides instruction in other spirits you may not have heard about.” I said, “The biggest change, however, is one to ensure safety. You’ll all need to be approved by Cave Mother before any given lesson.”

I held up one hand, forestalling a wave of grumbling.

“As Lubo shows, it’s very easy to fall into treacherous practices.” I said. “This is powerful and dangerous magic. She is going to explain to all of you exactly what to avoid doing before you are given the tools to do it. I’m sure we can all agree that it’s a bad idea to piss off dragons and gods, yes?”

The crew grumbled their agreement. I didn’t think they were all convinced, but enough of them were that I didn’t feel too worried.

I’d considered using Ve’ra’s new trick to have “Lubo” back me up on this. If they’d been strangers I didn’t need to work with in the future, I’d have almost certainly done it. However, these were my crew. I needed their trust, and even with high turnover at least a few of these guys would be on my crew for the foreseeable future.

“Alright.” I said, “I don’t want you all to get overly fixated on Vishgurv, either. We are a team here, and Vishgurv doesn’t do much to help anyone but the guy binding him. Having a few more binders with Cave Mother would have helped take the pressure off of Sandara when Gobron attacked. I want a good spread of abilities. At minimum, I want you to work with Cave Mother to see if you have an affinity for any other spirits.”

With any luck, that’ll mean a few more Pactbound with full level scaling on my team. None of Lubo’s students are actually very good at binding Vishgurv. If they find they can get more juice out of one of the other spirits, even the power hungry ones will opt out of the cult voluntarily. Hell, half of the level one spirits are considered safe enough for Chelish schools to teach tweens how to summon them. I will take the horny ghost over the eldritch fish god any day.

I went through the satchel I carried and pulled out a few packets of paper.

“That’s all for binding, but I have a few more things I want to cover while I have you here,” I said. “Jerry has gotten new bodies for everyone who died in that last battle. They’re on their way to Quent as of yesterday. We probably won’t see them when we arrive unless they make exceptionally good time, but I want you all to know that I’ll take care of you as long as you’re on my crew.”

I noticed a few of the new recruits, some missing limbs, perk up at that.

Better nip that one in the bud.

“Don’t go getting yourselves killed for no reason, though.” I added. “I’ve only got so much credit with Jerry. I think we just about broke even with all the goblin bodies I sent him.”

And there we go. Vishgurv might not be out of the picture entirely yet, but that can wait until Sosima isn’t under contract anymore. There are a ton of spirits in the place between that won’t try to **** someone into a cult, I’m sure Cave Mother will air his dirty laundry when they go in for tutoring, and I can resurrect the crew even if they never pick up binding at all. A transparent and competitive marketplace is best for the customer, after all.

If someone still decides to be a Vishgurv specialist now… well, then I’ll know who to watch.

••••••••••

Rova 19

I set up a table with two plates and a few candles. Once Salyar brought in the main entree of fish fried rice, I thanked him and shooed him out. All the while, a red eyed silhouette stared at me incredulously.

“You’re sure we have time for all’at?” Ve’ra asked. “You’ve been real touchy about yer magic and now you want to have dinner first?”

“Yep. I told you I didn’t want to just jump into bed and see how quick we could manage it.” I said. “I can keep you in the body until it breaks apart, so about seventy minutes. I stand by what I said about you being an expensive date, but it’s worth more to keep you happy.”

“To stop stringing me along, you mean.” She said, though there wasn’t any heat in her words. She smiled down at the simple candlelit dinner. “Not a bad thing, if this is what you were waiting for.”

“So, did you decide what you wanted to be for this?” I asked. “Any of the bodies we’ve already tried will do.”

“Fetchling.” She said, with no hesitation. “If you’re gonna go for the whole experience, it’d be nice to look like m’self.”

“Deal.”

I didn’t want to waste time, but I also didn’t want dinner to get cold. I waved my hand, and my familiar became physical.

Ve’ra had been on the pale and skinny side for a drow, back when she’d been alive. The nearly alabaster flesh she had when she turned into a fetchling was, at least so far, the closest fit. She was initially naked, but stepped behind a screen and emerged a minute later in a very familiar outfit and her hair tidied into a bob.

https://postimg.cc/30db4VqB

“Sandara was right.” I said, “You look good.”

“Well I couldn’t borrow from the Chelish lass.” She said, eyes darting away from mine, “Too posh, an’ my chest would look ridiculous. At least with Sandara’s I can just pull the string on this thing till it fits.”

She gestured at Sandara’s corset, pulled in to squeeze her waist. The leather pants fit her reasonably well despite her narrower frame, a testament to Sandara’s dedication to tight clothing.

I poured out a couple glasses of rum. Yet another contribution by Sandara, but I didn’t get the impression Ve’ra had very refined tastes. More importantly, I didn’t get the impression many guys took her out on dates when she was in Riddleport.

“So,” I said, “let’s say I figure out how to resurrect you. What then?”

Ve’ra blinked, her first spoonful of rice halfway to her mouth. She ate it, smiling at the pleasant taste, then shot me a look.

“Well that’s a bit heavy.” She said. “You sure you’re planning on shagging? I’ll be real disappointed if you put it off again after all this.”

“Don’t worry.” I said. “I just like to know at least a little about the people I sleep with. You don’t seem to like talking about the past, so how about the future?”

She shrugged and took another bite. She ate steadily as we talked.

“Dunno.” She said. “Never really had the luxury of picking that kind of thing.”

“Should I keep you summoned more so you have time to think about it?” I asked, cracking a smile. “It’ll happen eventually. I’m looking into options already.”

“Options?” She asked. “Hopefully nothing that ends with me out on my ass.”

“No, I wouldn’t do that.” I promised. “As long as I can keep you around, I will. Assuming you want to stay, anyway.”

I’ll need to square that away sooner rather than later. If something happens and I lose my sorcery, I’m not sure if I’ll be in any position to help her out.

“You talk pretty.” She said with a smirk. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“You want to bet on it?” I asked, matching her expression. “I’ve recently come into the business of making miracles.”

“Five hundred gold you’ll manage it,” she said, “deal?”

“You’re on.” I said, then paused. “Wait a second.”

“Too late.” She said, “You promised. If I’m in a position to care, I’ll be rich.”

“That makes no sense.” I said, “What happens if I lose the bet.”

“Easy.” She said, dark eyes sparkling. “You’ll need to come get me if you want your money. So, are you gonna eat that? If not I’ll take care of it so we can get to the main event.”

I looked down at her plate. It was indeed empty, while mine was more than half full. I snorted and tucked in.

“Alright,” I said, then thought while I chewed. “You know I can’t think of any insults off the top of my head to make fun of you being so thirsty.”

“Most of ‘em would just be accurate, yeh mean?” She said. “That does take some of the fun out of it, I imagine.”

I laughed, stood up, and took her by the hand. I pulled her out of the chair and kissed her.

“That’s fine.” I said. “Even if we get serious I’m pretty sure you won’t be sleeping around on me.”

“If you make me wait any longer, I just might figure it out.”

••••••••••

Rova 23

When I called Dierdre back as a pixie, I hadn’t been entirely sure what to expect. Orphne Dierdre hadn’t been the worst person I’d ever met; I’d dated worse even before coming to Golarion. She had, however, been a far cry from the sassy pixie I’d come to know and love.

As it turned out, I needn’t have worried. If anything, the transition from pixie to orphne and back had been smoother and more comfortable than atomie into pixie.

“By the Eldest; I’ve got to apologize to some people.” Had been the first words out of her mouth, along with a laugh. “Wow, I was a bitch!”

“Phew,” I said, “I was worried there’d be personality bleed.”

“How do you know there isn’t, peasant?” She asked in an outrageously exaggerated French (Galtan) accent.

Since then, I’d used her as my primary way of ferrying materials back and forth between the two ships. I could use Energy Leap to make the trip myself, but it wasn’t easy to ship a lot of material that way. Every day I had a small pallet worth of masterwork demonic weapons and armor that needed to get to the bilges in Gobron’s ship.

The trip was blessedly uneventful after I confined Lubo; we were almost to Quent by the time my newest scheme bore fruit. I landed on the deck with my daily shipment of plundered equipment, and was immediately accosted by a panicking goblin.

“Captain! Captain!” She said, “Make them stop! They’re pounding on the door to the bilges!”

“Did they leave or damage the hull?” I asked.

“Well… no?” She said. “I don’t think so?”

“Then it’s probably fine.” I said. “I’ll go check on them.”

I heard the thumping before I reached the door, and crossed my arms.

“What did I tell you about damaging the door?” I yelled, keeping my tone even.

The sound on the other side stopped immediately, then I heard several responses all jumbled together.

“To not do it.”

“I dunno.”

“I didn’t do it.”

“It was Purch.”

“No it wasn’t!”

“Mister Rust is the one doing it so you can’t punish us.”

Intimidate 15+14=29. Success!

You have temporarily pacified children.

“Alright. I’m coming in.” I yelled again. “Remember, if you try to leave the bilges you go back to your cage.”

I opened the door and took in the view of a hulking mechanical monstrosity made of rusted blades, barely held together with twine. In the shadows and covered with several sheets of rusted chainmail, it looked a little bit like a beggar with an extremely hunched back. It reared back, its bladed arms raised, and I glared at the goblin pup holding up a silver ring near the edge of my darkvision. She folded her hands in front of her and the metallic creature sat on its haunches.

I will absolutely lean on skill checks to control children. I am the goblin pup whisperer.

“Good job, guys.” I said, “Sosima didn’t think you’d manage it, but you sure showed her.”

I’d settled on Sosima to be the designated naysayer, because they knew her by appearance and I was fairly certain that she’d consider herself a failure as a person if these insane bundles of energy actually liked her.

I held out my hand, and the goblin girl with the ring clutched it to her chest.

“No!” She said. “Cheese first!”

I chuckled.

“Alright, Moy, I’ll be right back. Don’t damage anything while I’m gone.”

I got a chorus of “yes captain” from my youngest followers, and headed to the kitchen where a matronly goblin chained to a post unlocked herself so she could reach the pantry. There she pulled out two large cheese wheels I’d set aside for this day.

“Thanks, Merel.” I said, and hauled my bargaining chips down to the hold. Today, those cheese wheels were worth five thousand gold pieces each.

I made the exchange with all the gravity I could manage, and left the room. It was far too large for a goblin’s fingers, but it fit me pretty well. The metal monster stood and followed me into the hallway while the goblin pups engaged in an all out brawl for the cheese.

Golem control totem- Junk Golem (designated Mister Rust)

I examined my prize, feeling incredibly smug about my own cleverness. I’d picked up a new Leadership Sphere feat called Magical Craftsmen after getting toasted by Aashaq, which allowed me to start a magic item crafting project and then hand it off to my followers to finish. They’d even use my stats to do it. Since Sosima had graciously bought me several feral children, I’d put on my industrialist hat and put them to work.

The product of their labor was a Junk Golem, one of the weakest standardized golem varieties. It just barely beat the Wax and Carrion golems, mostly because it could repair itself and didn’t have any serious weaknesses in its immunity to magic. It was also only weak by the standards of golems; I’d have had a hard time actually destroying the magic-immune golem without backup. Luckily, the pups liked me. After all, I’d let them out of their cage and let them play in a room nearly ten times as large.

Even more important than the actual threat posed by the golem was its estimated ROI. It was the only magical item, weapon, armor, or construct that I could make almost entirely for free. Mr. Rust was made out of a length of copper wire donated by Rowe, and over 5,000 gp worth of arms and armor torn from the dead bodies of Thoxel demons.

Not counting labor costs, which were paid in room and board plus a commission paid in cheese, the copper wire and the silver ring were the only expenses. Technically the ring could have just been anything, but I figured that the kinds of people who could afford a personal golem would want at least the part that they had to hold or wear to look nice.

Doesn’t require any special training to use, nearly as strong as Owlbear, and able to repair itself using random bits of rubbish. There’s got to be a market for this, even if it is ugly as sin. Hell, I could sell this thing for one tenth its market value and still come out ahead. Of course, that wouldn’t make enough to pay my debt off, but still. Better than a bunch of twin blades swords that no one would pay for.

I ordered the golem to stand still and wait for my return, dropped off another pack full of soon to be ruined equipment with the pups, and flew back to the Enterprise with a light heart. This was the first town I was headed to that had a functional government, allies I knew about without making a knowledge check, and one of the largest marketplaces in the Shackles.

What could possibly go wrong?