Startup 41: Stepping Down

Arodus 30, early morning.

Does this count as cuckoldry? I mean, I’m here, sitting nearby while a guy has sex with a bunch of women I was supposed to fuck. Nendra especially, she is technically my wife after all. Does it help that the other guy is basically my stunt double, a chick, and a divine messenger? I feel like those are ameliorating factors. Eh, I don’t think it counts.

Maybe if it were Syl or Sosima up there. Sandara… I’m not really sure what we are. Definitely something, but I doubt that she’d ever settle down and I’m sure as hell not exclusive. I think it’d probably bother me if she were fucking someone else, yeah. Does that make me greedy? Oh well, greed comes with the pirate life, and the isekai life. I’m pretty sure it’s expected at this point.

Such were only a few of the many thoughts that ran through my mind as I waited for the proper time to escape, when both my guards and Nendra’s would be elsewhere and only a few token troops would stand between me and freedom. The sounds of moaning and grunting kept me awake for the intervening hours, made all the worse because I couldn’t raise any objections. I tossed and turned silently, occasionally dozing, only to be startled awake by the suspended mattress thumping against the wall.

Nendra’s bed had a compartment under it, closed off from the rest of the world with decorative skirting. I’d shifted the bed away from the wall the moment I’d finished briefing my doppelgänger, allowing me to slip in under the headboard. No one would ever find me there; I could tell because of the thick layer of dust I’d quickly swept out while Nendra was still ****.

It was probably the most unpleasant rest I’d had since coming to the Shackles, but I didn’t actually need to sleep. I wouldn’t feel rested without sleep, but I only really needed idleness to restore my spell points. I laid there for hours, quietly listening as Nendra woke, had my doppelgänger beaten for drugging her, received healing for her exhaustion, engaged in a bit of make-up sex, and then continued the breeding program. That qualified as rest, according to my menu.

I sincerely wished that I could have cast Keep Watch, but Nendra would have possibly noticed the glow coming from under her bed and invalidated the whole plan. I’d been laying still for a few minutes before I remembered to turn off my own arcane sight. I couldn’t even actually sleep, because I didn’t want to risk snoring or something.

Shishe, my wasp girl accomplice, was only too happy to get it on with the ladies of House D’Lann. I suppose it figured for a servitor of a goddess of sex that encouraged her servants to master the use of whips, but she seemed pretty into the whole process of performatively domming woman after woman to keep Nendra distracted. Somehow, possibly due to her unusual biology, she’d completely shrugged off her own cocktail of ****. She’d even Suggested that Nendra should just ignore that fact and let her work.

Almost unfair that worked for her the very first time. Half of my suggestions are complete misfires. Ah well, I guess it’s on the list of approved magic she can use while pretending to be me.

The timing was good, at least, since I could read up on my new level up and scan through my logs.

I’d gotten my third circle of spells; as usual, my first third level spell was something that looked like it would be useful, but was a lot less of a general use hammer than my destruction or weather talents. Infuse Self was a self-only buff ability that allowed me to transform into a native outsider for ten minutes per level, so about an hour at this point.

I’d initially gotten excited about that, as “native outsider” was a term I recognized. There were tons of magical beings I couldn’t summon because they generally lived on the prime material plane, where I also lived, and were thus referred to as “native” rather than extraplanar outsiders. Rakshasa, Oni, Couatl, at least one creature made of out fog; that kind of thing. Powerful stuff.

Unfortunately, the far more common parlance use of “native outsider” referred to entities that were mostly mortal, but had some kind of extraplanar influence in their bloodline, like tieflings. I had a whitelist of 12 approved species I could turn myself into, each of which would come with their own associated minor buffs and magical abilities.

Ironically, I’d have been much more excited by the spell if I hadn’t known about the other, beefier types of native outsider. A disguise was exactly what the doctor ordered for my current plans, and I could pick up resistance to almost any kind of elemental damage as a standard action.

Hunting down everything on the list gave me something to do for a few hours, which was welcome. A few options seemed particularly promising, like the shadow-infused Fetchling, which gained a kind of long distance pseudo-teleportation power called Shadow Walk at a higher level, but mostly they were small perks.

On the rogue side of things, I’d picked up a new class feature called Hidden Space. It was, essentially, an inventory. I could keep up to ten pounds per level in my Hidden Space, and it wouldn’t be a burden at all. It was obviously magical though, so I didn’t dare to experiment with it while I was under the bed.

The actual mission itself had given me a few new abilities as well, though I wasn’t sure how useful they would be. Courtesan’s secret was a cantrip that made someone infertile for a day, which would help me and my girls save a modest amount of money on birth control tea.

The second tier gave me Perfect Parallel, which let me sync myself to an ally and complement their movements perfectly. As far as I could tell, it allowed me to be in hugging range of someone without hindering their movements. I assumed it had some kind of sexual application given the source, but wasn’t entirely sure off the top of my head.

The last of the three, Extra Companion (Drow Courtesan), was the most strange. It added another character sheet to my party just under my shadow puppet, but when I tried to pull the sheet up I got an error message.

“A ritual must be performed to create an independent eidolon”

The independent descriptor seemed promising, as I wasn’t overly enthusiastic about the potential use cases of Autopilot puppeteering a shadow prostitute. However, that also meant that I had absolutely no idea what to expect from my newest summon other than the title of Drow Courtesan. I couldn’t imagine a new summon failing to be at least occasionally useful, but I was ambivalent and decided to move on quickly to the rest of my Party menu.

Most of my team was listed as “out of range” for their level up to go into effect. Everyone except Sosima, who reached level 6 without a hitch. Similarly, my log of events didn’t mention most of the things my team did from this far away, but it did see fit to inform me each night when Sosima did her ritual of inquiry.

Huh. Odd.

Sosima had become substantially scarier at level six, in a very literal sense. She’d picked up something from her binder abilities that allowed her to further infuse her weapon with magic. When she was using a weapon inscribed with her newly acquired “Seal of Darkness,” she could try to intimidate people as a move action, and made the shaken debuff twice as effective when she applied it. In layman’s terms, she could make someone about twenty percent less likely to succeed at anything they tried by glaring at them, even if she was otherwise busy stabbing someone.

I guess I’ll just need to wait to see the rest. For now, let’s go over my finances.

••••••••••

Shishe worked her way through her daily workload long before I had finished my alleged “rest.” Once she was done, she was escorted to her office and I was left alone in the room. At that point, I waited impatiently in the silence for my magic to return and was eventually rewarded with a warm glow washing through me. I was still tired, but I’d powered through many late nights in the past.

At least I don’t have a hangover. Alright, time to get out of here.

I tapped the bedframe, casting levitate, and willed the whole thing to gently float into the air until I heard the quiet tap of bedposts hitting the ceiling. From there, I rolled out and stood up. After I gently put the bed back where it belonged, I set a plan into motion I’d been cooking for days and tweaking for hours.

Naturally, the first step was to hide in Nendra’s closet. I didn’t want to be trapped under the bed, but I also didn’t want to risk being out in the open if housekeeping showed up. Once there, I called up an old friend.

The small figure, formed of iridescent gold and green, popped into existence a few inches from my chest. Her wings didn’t actually move as she stood on air, looking around the cramped space. She was smart enough to guess I was hiding, and she immediately turned herself invisible. I could still see her as a faint blue shimmer, but her natural invisibility seemed a lot more efficient than a spell and even muted the aura from her amulet. Of course, the effect was rather wasted when she proceeded to read my mind.

Ok, what’s the plan? Who is he hiding from?

Her voice echoed in my ears as loudly as if she had just asked, and a pulse of white divination magic was fired at me from her chest. I held a finger to my lips.

“My people can see magic.” I whispered, “Don’t use the amulet in front of drow or they might know. Whispering is probably better for now.”

Hopefully that’ll stick. The amulet makes her forget that it broadcasts her thoughts, but maybe she’ll be able to remember that other creatures see magic.

“Fine,” she said, lighting on my shoulder. “So, who do you want me to take out?”

“Depends on your definition of take out.” I answered with a smirk.

After a bit of work with some of Nendra’s cosmetics, I brazenly walked out the door, saluting the guards and mumbling something about cleaning. To all the world I was a downtrodden servant, though I was a bit dark skinned for a surface elf even with the foundation. They were sufficiently taken aback that they didn’t immediately arrest me. That bought Dierdre the time she needed to unleash a volley of pixie dust laden arrows, wiping our brief interaction from the guards’ minds. (Disguise 4+13+2=19) They were just ordinary troops, a pair of orcs punching the clock, and I didn’t expect them to have good will saves. They did not exceed my expectations.

Only a 19 on disguise? Shit. I’ll need to reapply my makeup when I get a minute. That won’t fly if I run into anyone paying more attention.

I ambled along, largely keeping to the hallways I knew to be sparsely used. It was tempting to exit via the front gate, but they would surely ask questions. I nodded politely to my supposed coworkers, keeping my eyes down and my face a mask of introspection otherwise.

I left via one of the walls, past the patrolling guards. They were more on guard for such things than a bunch of magically incompetent humans, but not even all drow could levitate as I could. Weightless and invisible, I allowed Dierdre to tow me along through the air and into town. We landed in a narrow alleyway, and I took a deep breath. I was out, and as far as I knew nobody was aware of that. Indeed, no one would learn until Shishe’s binding faded. (Stealth 16+13+2(help)+20(invisibility)=51)

Thank the gods. If anything had gone wrong and I was caught with a fairy, that would have escalated so hard.

I let Autopilot pawn a few pieces of jewelry at a nearby independent jeweler he knew of. We played the role of cringing servant and probably got ripped off, but not too badly. They were all things that Nendra never wore, mostly gifts from people she didn’t want to offend. The gold we made was more than enough to rent out a room in a small hostel for a week, meals included, with several silver pieces left over.

Dierdre erased the desk jockey’s memory once I was sequestered in the small room, then informed him that her mistress did not wish to be disturbed. It would draw attention, but hopefully not anyone who was looking for me in particular.

“So, Milord,” Dierdre said, using her now sarcastic nickname for me, “How have you been? I understand you were headed into some severe danger when last we parted ways.”

“Yeah.” I said, rubbing my face. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, at least in some ways. In other ways it was probably worse.”

I told her about the last few weeks, keeping my voice low. There was a real chance someone was listening at the door in this godsforsaken city. I ended up rambling, talking about anything and everything. The beatings, the **** attempt, I let those be swept away in a river of words.

Dierdre watched me from her perch on the small nightstand, frowning and smiling at the appropriate times. Sometimes she asked questions, but mostly she just listened.

I don’t know when I started crying; she didn’t draw attention to it and neither did I. The tension of the last several days was finally starting to slacken. I needed to hide out for a few days before heading out to the rendezvous. I had someone I completely trusted here to watch my back. I could finally relax, just for a moment.

I wiped the tears away with my sleeve.

“Alright, I’m sorry Dierdre,” I said, “I’m gonna ask that you keep an eye out while I sleep. No sense going without if I don’t have to.”

I stripped off the scratchy clothing and lay in the cheap, hard bed. I slept better than I had in weeks.

••••••••••

Arodus 30, late

My crew was planning to be in position on Rova 7, and Shishe would be in position until Rova 5. The problems with a rendezvous in the open ocean were obvious, especially since as of yet I didn’t see any plausible way to get my hands on a boat. I’d need to rely on outsiders for transit, which meant that I couldn’t leave until Rova 2 at the earliest if I wanted to be sure my ride wasn’t going to go poof on me. I’d done just enough research to know the surface didn’t have many islands where I was going, and I’d be relying on survival checks to navigate.

That meant I would be spinning my wheels for at least a few days, and I had absolutely no intention of wasting all that time. The very first thing I did when I woke up was call up Yael, who was thrilled to finally hand over the heavy bag she’d been carrying for me since I’d left the Enterprise.

I’d sent her back immediately, as per our normal arrangement, though I asked that she clear a few hours from her schedule the next day. I burnt a lot of spell points after that, starting with a Schir. After all, I needed another halberd. Dierdre used the last of her pixie dust for the day to knock him out and together we jumped him, killing the goat without much difficulty.

That’s 64. Thirty six kills left.

After that, I sent more magpies to Mendev, though it seemed that the low hanging fruit in the demon infested war zone was drying up. One Zebub died before it got back to me, and the one who didn’t only came back with a few handfuls of silver.

Am I not the only one who does this? Did I just luck out with the onyx, catching the world’s dumbest demon-worshipping necromancer off guard?

While they worked, I sorted through the items Yael brought me and worked on my proof of concept for the Shae. A bottle of highly distilled holy water, which Syl and Sandara had made together, was utterly profaned as I used it to wash the halberd nine times. I was particularly careful with the head, which the schir tended to gnaw on and infect with an ugly disease called grey pox. I used several other small, expensive items, like the adamantine needle I used to etch celestial runes into the shaft, for around eight hours. By the end, I had a perfectly functional +1 halberd which would, hopefully, impress my would-be patrons.

_Hopefully it’ll be enough for them to loan me another 3,000 gold to pay for Bane Undead._ I’ve got time right now, but I won’t later.

Dierdre dusted off her old atomie speech patterns when I sent her down to the front desk to pick up my included meal for the day, implying I was some kind of secretive extraplanar dignitary. I’d paid for a week upfront and gave him a generous tip, so I think the inn’s dwarven proprietor was willing to give me the benefit of the doubt.

Once I finished enchanting and went through my bag, I only really had one more thing left to do. The ritual I was obliged to perform upon level up, to call my new Conjured Companion, the Drow Courtesan.

Well, if anyone is going to have ideas of how to kill time when you’re stuck in a room with nothing but a bed, it’s gonna be a courtesan.

I sat upon the bed, legs crossed, and let my soul reach out to one who might aid me.

••••••••••

Ve’ra hid in the kitchen and popped open a bottle of wine. She preferred to just forget about everything between when she left the room and when Croat’s men gave her enough money to close out most of her debts. For that to work, she needed to get drunk enough to black out, and she needed to do it quickly.

She winced as she heard the crash of steel on steel, knowing that her little love nest would be absolutely trashed. Whenever she got **** enough to play the honeypot for local toughs, that trashed her rep. Everyone knew about it before long, and the only Johns she’d be able to get would be Croat’s boys. Everyone else would be worried about a trap. Only a matter of time before some bully boy decided she was his girl.

Fuck it, I’m behind on rent anyway. I’ll take the money and run. Won’t be the first time, and I doubt it’ll be the last.

She was already plastered by the time her mark’s friends kicked the door down and mounted a daring rescue. She mumbled the answers to a few questions, pointed the guys towards Croat’s hideout, and hoped this would all blow over. In the morning, she’d find a half dozen dead Hushmen in her bedroom, stripped of valuables.

Fucking adventurers.

It didn’t blow over. A few days later, when she got home after a quick job, she found a few of Croat’s boys waiting for her. Ve’ra did her best to smile at them disarmingly.

“We had a chat with those out of towners.” Don said, not returning her smile. “They said some interesting things about how they found the boss.”

“Oh, you bumped them off, right?” Ve’ra asked, “You here to celebrate?”

“Something like that.” Don said, pulling out his knife.

Ve’ra filled the room with darkness, but she was too close. They grabbed her before she could get away, and she felt a blossom of pain in her gut. They kept stabbing her, over and over, which was a certain kind of mercy. The pain stopped once she died.

The trial was a surreal affair, with a giant snake and a diseased bird arguing over whether she was destined for the Abyss or the Maelstrom. Ve’ra thought that wasn’t very nice; she hadn’t killed all that many of her Johns recently. She’d been trying to cut back on that kind of thing. Besides, even the snake’s place didn’t sound like a good time. Chaos, instability, everyone out for themselves.

Figures. It’s just more of the same, even after I die.

A flicker appeared out of the corner of her eye; a doorway opening in the air. A pretty drow boy with red eyes was leaning out of the glowing archway, holding out his hand. He was transparent, and no one else in the room seemed to see him. Nobody except the judge, a pale woman all in black, who glanced at him for a moment. She looked at the two arguing over Ve’ra’s soul with depthless disdain, and flicked her wrist in a shooing motion. Not towards the pretty boy. Towards Ve’ra.

Don’t need to tell me twice, lady. Fuck those guys.

Ve’ra wasn’t sure why someone would resurrect her, but maybe things were finally going to go well.

••••••••••

As the ritual concluded, I felt the bond solidify. Something pulled taught, and then nothing.

I looked around, and didn’t see anything. It didn’t feel like I had an active spell going, but I did have a new conjuration companion in my party menu. Drow Courtesan had been replaced with “Ve’ra.”

No surname. Must be lowborn.

Not knowing exactly what else to do, I called her up. I wasn’t really sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t what I got.

My own shadow split in two, or perhaps it’s more accurate to say that another shape stepped out of it. Unlike my puppet, this new shape was short, slight, feminine, and remained two dimensional.

She turned to face me, and a pair of faintly glowing red dots appeared where her eyes should be.

“Oi! Who the bleedin hell are you?” She demanded, “What the fuck did you go an’ do to me?”

Her shadow lifted the shadow of the halberd propped against the corner, and the real thing started to float into the air. She jabbed it at me threateningly.

“Uh… first time being summoned, I’m guessing?” I said, “This is new for me too.”

“Summoned?” She asked, “I don’t give a toss about that, I wasn’t in a great spot anyway. I mean my body! Look at me!”

I looked at the very angry two dimensional woman.

“Uh… so that’s new, then?” I said, starting to sweat.

Autopilot. I need to know what the hell happened so I can tell the angry lady what the hell happened.

Eidolons are an unusual type of outsider created from scratch by the initial ritual, generally using free floating quintessence. It would appear that we somehow incorporated an existing entity into our creation. Hopefully no one of importance. Don’t worry, we can assert command over her at any time. (Spellcraft 9+13=22)

1 spell point spent to maintain Ve’ra without concentration. She will remain summoned for 6 minutes.

Save that for emergencies, she does not give me the impression she would be okay with getting puppetteered.

“Ok, so, I did a ritual to create an outsider from scratch.” I explained, looking her in the twin red embers, “You showed up when I finished. Can you tell me what you looked like before?”

“The most exotic beauty in gods damned Riddleport!” She growled, “What, were you hoping to get laid, Mr. fancy house boy? Dick too small to keep anyone? Well too bad, your damn ritual turned me into a smudge on the wall.”

“To my knowledge he hasn’t actually slept with anyone he’s summoned so far.” Dierdre chimed in, “Or even tried, really, beyond a bit of flirting with Yael. He’s been a perfect gentleman to me, other than sending me to my ****.”

“What, is he gay?” Ve’ra asked, confused, “Or is it you’re too tiny? What did he change you from, a halfling?”

“Actually a smaller type of fey.” Dierdre said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I got bigger when I died.”

“Ahh, so he’s working on getting you up to size.” Ve’ra said sagely, “expect to die a lot more, then.”

“Hey, I feel like we are getting off track here,” I said, adopting a calming tone, “That’s not why I summoned you, I’m absolutely not facing any difficulties finding people to sleep with.”

“Quiet, Milord,” Dierdre said, “Just because it is true does not make your parade of lovers any less tasteless to brag about.”

Ve’ra seemed to calm down slightly, and stopped jabbing the enchanted halberd at me. Instead she propped it against the wall and leaned against the shadow like a post.

“Alright, then,” she said, “So if you didn’t fuck up summoning me for my body, what did you summon me for? Can’t imagine random fuck ups are how most summoners work.”

“Well… basically I just wanted someone who would help me.” I said, deciding not to get into the whole sordid mess, “The ritual said it would summon someone with some common ground with me, and I did have sex with about ten women in the last day…”

“So you rustled up someone who gets shagged professionally.” The shadow said, and from her posture I think she crossed her arms. “Too bad for you, I guess. Don’t think an orphan will be much use to a fancy magic man in the darklands. None of your type ever wanted to say two words to me before.”

“Look, if you don’t want to be here I can sever the contract.” I said, “I think I can, anyway.”

“Eh, I guess this beats being dead.” Vera admitted, “Not by much, but a little. I’ll give you a shot.”

I looked at the shadow woman and leaned back against the wall.

“I’ll tell you what,” I said, “I won’t promise it’ll be any time soon, but I know a guy who resurrects people. If you earn your keep, I might be able to get you a new mortal body. Eventually.”

“Turn a girl into a shadow then string her along with promises about fixing it.” Ve’ra said, “I’ll give you points for novelty, at least.”

••••••••••

So, I just did a little bit of math and realized that, not counting bonus chapters, my most recent patreon exclusive chapter was the 100th chapter of Emrys’s story. I’d like to thank all of you so much for supporting me, reading my crazy ideas, and enjoying my work.

I only started writing a few years ago, and when I did, I genuinely didn’t ever expect things to go this far. I’m now on book 2 of a series that people really seem to like. I’m flattered and faintly surprised, and all I can say is thank you.

Thank you for every dollar, every comment, every like, and every moment of your time. I am a lucky guy.

Here’s to a few hundred more.

I didn’t think about this so I don’t really have any better ideas to offer other than another AMA. If you have any thoughts, questions, or requests you’d like to air, I’d be happy to a respond to any of them.