Startup 58: Misaligned Market

Rova 13

Compared to the densely urban press of Port Peril or even the goblin controlled boardwalk of Goatshead, Dragonsthrall sprawled. The buildings were arranged in blocks, islands of infrastructure crammed into small packets between the expansive roads and massive empty spaces. I only saw a few dragons mixed in with the humanoid inhabitants of Dragonsthrall, at least until I paid more attention to the skyline.

The overseer of Dragonsthrall sat in a distant tower shaped like a chalice, filled to overflowing with glittering red scales coiled over one another in the afternoon sun. The dragon within raised its head to watch the ships as they came and went from a vantage point high enough to see everything in the biggest port of the Dahak Isles. They dwarfed Kelizar in size, bigger than an elephant if I was any judge, and watched my ship dock with an air of disinterest.

Holy crap, is that Aashaq?

Of course not. Aashaq is a great wyrm, more than one hundred thirty feet in length. She rarely stays in her draconic form while in any urban center for simple logistical reasons. That field over there is likely kept relatively clear so that she can land when it is time for her to receive tribute or embark upon a ship. (Knowledge (Local) 20+7=Critical Success)

Oh.

That little revelation tripped me up, given that my prior standard of comparison was around ten feet long at most. Thankfully, I wasn’t in a position that required much thinking. At my prodding, Dierdre stood near the wheel, holding her hand out as her skeletons carefully maneuvered the ship towards a long dock using oars. The rest of the crew only needed to wait around for their day in port to begin.

I walked up to Sosima, who was dressed in a simple black dress that mostly covered her scales. Her ever present earrings were absent, and she was wearing the heeled boots she reserved for days in port.

“You look good.” I told her, “I’m sorry we needed to loan out your earrings; I’ll make it up to you somehow.”

“Of course.” She said curtly. “Think nothing of it.”

When a girl tells you she is fine in that tone, she is very much not fine. Damn it; it’s not like I could risk Rowe getting recognized. We can’t leave a trail of dead goblins everywhere we go.

I leaned in and brushed my lips against her neck, on the scaly area near her gills. I hardly touched her, letting my breath do the work. We’d learned through trial and error that area was fairly sensitive.

“Wherever they came from,” I whispered, “I really do think you look just as beautiful with scales as horns. Have you thought about getting a few more outfits that compliment them? It seems a waste to limit your looks to things that go well with your earrings.”

“An entire second wardrobe seems quite extravagant, given our financial straits.” She said, “This will suffice.”

“No need. I’ve got an alternative.”

I turned to see Creed walking up behind us, holding up a pouch. He handed it to me, and I opened it to see eight pills, half red and half blue. They glowed with transmutation and illusion magic respectively. I raised my eyebrows at him. Up to this point Creed hadn’t exactly been forthcoming with aid, and I wasn’t entirely sure when he’d found out about the situation.

“Consider it a thanks for getting me out of that ship.” He said gruffly to Sosima. “Red while focused on a target species, then blue to lock in the appearance. If the goblin takes these as instructed, no one is going to recognize her for the next six hours or so.”

I nodded at Creed in thanks, while surreptitiously scanning the pills’ auras for anything untoward. I didn’t exactly like the guy, but it was nice to know he had at least some ethics. All you needed to do to get him to do you a favor was drag him bodily out of an underwater **** trap.

“Oh?” Sosima said, eyes lighting up, “Quick, Emrys, go make the swap. If I’m to be shopping all day for supplies, I would prefer my earrings.”

Fine. I’ll ask Conchobar to keep an eye on the clock. I’d hate to dash Sima’s hopes at this point.

I squeezed her on the shoulder and jogged to the side of the ship, then turned into cold wind to land on Gobron’s ship, which was doing its own approach. Thankfully, the last day had been blessedly boring outside of one explosive meeting with Varossa on the Enterprise about the proper way to deal with ghosts and where certain artifacts may or may not be. Rosie hadn’t even dealt with that much excitement on her first day as captain.

Conchobar slipped me the Horn of Riches, which I stored in my shadow storage. I wasn’t certain that Varossa would steal it and stow it away somewhere, but I also was far from certain that she would not. I had leverage now, and I didn’t think she liked that.

Rowe listened to my instructions from Creed and decided to take the first red pill, loaded with the same spell Creed used to turn himself and Varossa into merfolk, immediately. It seemed like a waste of her first fifteen minutes disguised, but I wouldn’t judge. As long as she got back to the ship after five hours, including a one hour grace period because I was certain she’d only start heading back to the ship when her time was almost up, she could do as she pleased.

Alter self was a little bit different from Disguise Self, as Kelizar had demonstrated. It translated and localized the individual’s appearance, allowing for a dragon to turn into a dapper kobold, a bishounen human, and a portly goblin. All were expressions of who Kelizar was in the eyes of his own species: a very handsome ladies man.

The moment the pill went down her gullet, Rowe started to expand rapidly. Mostly upward, but also in the bust and hips. Her skin darkened and smoothed out, and her hair straightened slightly into a silky white. Her toothy smile stayed, but within six seconds it was on a face that made Gobron’s actions, though reprehensible, make a lot more sense.

I wasn’t entirely sure why she’d decided to turn herself into a drow of all species, but as a drow she was a total knockout. With a bust that rivaled Sosima and flaring hips around an absurdly narrow waist, she was dramatically curvier than any drow I’d met in Heslandaena.

https://postimg.cc/14MSYXp5

“Hot damn!” Ratts exclaimed, dropping his rope. “Is that Rowe?”

Rosie snapped Ratts back to attention with a shout, but most of the crew couldn’t help but steal looks at her. It wasn’t just that she was gorgeous; my ship had a disproportionately large number of women who looked damn good. It’s that she was Rowe.

She examined her own body with mingled curiosity and amusement. She was all quick, decisive movements, with no pause or filter between thought and action.

“Good.” She chirped in a clear soprano, “Skinny like Captain. Men not bother.”

I wouldn’t bet on that. Then again, Rowe might find the kind of harassment non-goblin guys get up to quaint.

Conchobar’s jaw went so slack he might as well have dislocated it. It seemed pretty clear that he liked this look on Rowe. She looked down at him and cocked her head, clearly confused.

“Don’t worry, Pearlteeth.” She said, “Only hideous for today.”

That, little buddy, is squarely your problem. Or opportunity. You do you.

••••••••••

When I got back to the enterprise, Sosima snatched the earrings from my hands so quickly it was a miracle she didn’t scratch me. She lost no time swapping over to Tiefling mode, pulling out a small mirror to adjust her hair around her false horns. We didn’t have much time to chat, since we were about to dock.

We’d half jokingly agreed that for tactical reasons I’d handle any officials if they were female and Sosima would charm any gentlemen, and as it turned out the dock master was a green scaled human man. I stood nearby as she handled customs. He blatantly enjoyed the view, but kept his hands to himself and his words professional while he explained the terms of use for his dock. A few silver per day, but we would need to provide Aashaq tribute for visiting the island at all.

“It doesn’t need to be much. Any junk will do.” He said, “Well, any junk valuable enough to not be an insult. A reasonably well made weapon or some artwork would be fine. If you have something you think is actually worthy of Aashaq’s attention, you can make an appointment to give her tribute in person. Otherwise, bring it to the warehouse south of the watchtower to get a receipt.”

I idly sized the man up, reading his ambient aura with my What a Man Can Do perk. He could only cast first level spells and he didn’t seem to be polymorphed. Not someone I’d need to put up with if he did try to get handsy. I wouldn’t even need to seriously hurt the guy to slap him down.

I mean, let’s be honest. I’m a pretty chill guy. If he does something bad enough to make me step in he’s probably seconds away from Sima gutting him.

“Did you hear that?” Syl asked, stepping up next to me. “Sounds like we have our way in.”

She was in a practical blouse and pants, her hair tied back with a yellow bandanna and her corsetry worn under her clothes. She made me think of someone about to go on a safari. We had plans for the day, to finish a mission by meeting a pirate lord face to face, and those plans suddenly seemed a good bit easier.

“Yeah. Shame these missions always seem to cost money, though.” I said, “A level up is probably worth the trouble. Do you think a few masterwork weapons will be enough to not be insulting?”

“Rosie can hand one over for her tribute, but we’d probably look bad if we try to pull something like that.” Syl said, “The kobolds working for her in Peril didn’t seem impressed. I think we’ll need a little more showmanship. Do you think you could make a poppet out of coral?”

I pursed my lips and considered the question. I blinked a few times at Autopilot’s answer.

“Well shit. I could probably make six if we made a day out of it.”

“That’s good to know, but we can probably make this work with only two.” Syl said, “Assuming you’re feeling particularly charming.”

••••••••••

The day before

“Alright, I’m about to toss this kerchief into the air.” I said, “Start drinking when it hits the table. Whoever finishes off their mug first gets 50 gold.”

I looked around at all four present members of my party. It wasn’t the typical way I started meetings, and Aaron, Dierdre, and Naomi all seemed slightly miffed to be excluded. Filli didn’t seem bothered, at least.

“Why?” Sosima asked, eyeing her mug of wine.

“I’ll explain after,” I said, “I just want to make it perfectly clear now that sixty gold pieces are up for grabs. Any one of us can win them, and I will have no say in how they might be spent. Understood?”

Syl, who had my mission log memorized, smiled. She knew what I was doing, at least. Cog shrugged and took his mug with a tolerant sigh, and Sandara took her own with quite a bit more enthusiasm. She was almost always drinking, but the rum she conjured was mediocre at best.

Might be good with some coke, but I don’t think I’ll get to try that combo any time soon.

We performed the short drinking competition, and Sosima surprised us all by finishing her glass in a single extended pull. She eyed the mug with mild disdain, but she’d still drained it and slammed the mug down on the table first. I checked my menu while handing her the pouch of gold I’d prepared, and cursed under my breath. Not all of my experiments were destined to be winners, it seemed.

Cog’s heroics had confirmed an interesting quirk of my missions, while solving an old mystery in the process. Long ago, while I was hunting for reefclaws, I’d inexplicably finished a mission to win a game of skill or chance with high financial stakes. As it turned out, Sandara had been having a night on the town, and she’d won some money before foiling one of Plugg’s less elegant **** attempts. In doing so, she’d finished the mission on my behalf, in the same way Cog had laid the ghost of Halid to rest far more than I had.

I’d been hoping that a drinking competition where every competitor was a party member would automatically resolve the mission I had to “win a drinking competition with stakes worth at least 50 gold.” Unfortunately, it seemed that my quest log didn’t buy it. Given the tortured logic I’d been allowed to use for some missions, I figured that I’d had a solid chance of it working.

Maybe it’s because I didn’t have a real chance of losing? Or that Syl knew it didn’t really matter? I hope my mission log isn’t just getting more strict with definitions. Cheating is way more fun.

The meeting had passed uneventfully after that, primarily focused on what we’d all be doing in Dragonsthrall to make the most of our day. Afterwards I made a few more attempts, and found success on the third try.

Naomi hadn’t counted either when I’d beaten her in a quick game, but one of my goblin prisoners had been more than happy to accept the challenge. Offering someone with literally nothing an opportunity to earn a few months’ pay was such an attractive offer that my primary hurdle was convincing them I was serious. Of course, the lucky Goblin hadn’t eaten anything for a few hours before he started pounding them back and was less than half my mass, so I’d managed to drink him under the table.

That netted me a +1 to my lowest stat, strength, bringing it up to a barely above average 11. More importantly, it brought me within reach of level 7. I only needed one more experience point, thanks to the flood of experience I’d gotten from dealing with Kelizar and the Saber’s Kiss.

••••••••••

Lubo prepared to leave the ship immediately, despite Filli’s baleful stare. She left behind Stanley, one of her two ascended disciples, to tell the rat girl of the rendezvous, just so she would feel included. It did not seem wise to exclude one who had somehow gotten into Emrys’s good graces, even if she did seem a bit dim.

The large rat woman had thus far proven rather inadequate as a binder, possibly due to her excessively large hands. She couldn’t draw a seal properly, and refused to simply allow Vishgurv in uncontested. What was she thinking, that she would be able to avoid his influence when she ascended? The rat’s eyes told Lubo nothing.

Binding was really quite easy, as Lubo had learned. Sosima had been an awful teacher; so obsessed with doing every little thing precisely, as was the Chelish way. The seal was only important if one wished to control him; such blasphemy would only last a short time for one such as Filli. Of course, there was only one being who could have counseled Filli to such foolishness: Cave Mother.

I’m going to throw that statue into the sea. Filli might have taken on a resplendent form by now if she hadn’t been scared unnecessarily.

You must remove her from the shamaness’s counsel. The sea may be too brazen, however.

Yes my lord.

Though the voice was only in her mind, Lubo bobbed her head in deference to her patron. He had little humor, so she didn’t dare explain that throwing Cave Mother into the sea was meant as a joke.

Lubo was about to hop off the side of the ship when Naomi called out to her. She winced and turned to scowl at her daughter. She’d rejected Vishgurv, chosen to become a servant again, and thought she was in a position to judge Lubo? After all the times Naomi had hidden behind her mother or fled from beatings, she suddenly believed that she knew how the world worked.

Why do you insist on living a life as a ****? You could be powerful.

“Where are you going, mother?” Naomi asked, “You seem to be in a hurry.”

“Oh, you care about an old woman now?” Lubo asked, “I only wish to explore. I haven’t had many opportunities to enjoy my new youth. One can’t just spend all one’s time hiding on a ship, the way I expect you will.”

“I’ll have you know I will be accompanying Lady Sosima in her tasks.” Naomi huffed. “I intend to do some shopping as well. It might have been nice to meet, or shop together. Since we wear the same size now, we might save some money by buying things we can both wear.”

She seemed so happy to have a bit of spending money, her cut from Gobron’s ship. They hadn’t split the sell price yet, but Captain M’Dair had doled out the coins and jewelry in the hold to keep them all pacified. Lubo felt a flicker of warmth to see her daughter happy, but a wave of pity smothered it. A few silver pieces would hardly last her the day; what did she have to be happy about?

Besides, she had things to do. Vishgurv had granted here exactly the spells she needed to reach the poor souls being sold as food for the more voracious dragons. Hardened criminals, one and all, whose **** was already inevitable. Lubo would be richly rewarded for finding converts such as that.

“You’re a grown woman.” She snapped. “Stop clinging to me. You’ve already robbed me of my youth once. Are you trying to do it again?”

Lubo might as well have slapped Naomi. She stiffened, mouth hanging open in shock.

“You’re scaring me, mother.” Naomi said feebly, “You always told me to be careful. Not to trust things that seemed too good to be true.”

“Everything scares a coward!” Lubo said, leaning in. “I won’t be one anymore. Do you know why?”

“No! No, I don't know why!” Naomi whined, “You’ve gone insane, mother.”

This time, Lubo really did slap her. She didn’t hold back her new strength, and sent Naomi sprawling onto the street. A few people stopped to watch, but mostly the kobolds scurried past unconcerned.

“Do not disrespect me, child! You made me a coward! I sacrificed everything for you! I stayed with Dula, for you!” Lubo ranted. “A woman with a child had no chance in the world. I was still young. I thought you needed me, so I stayed. Well, you won’t make me a coward again! If you won’t follow me, if you won’t take what I have offered, then go!”

With that, Lubo turned on her heel and stalked off. Her daughter, ever the coward, sat up and stared for a long time. She didn’t know what to do, so she did nothing. Useless.

••••••••••

Aaron frowned, looking down from his post on the ship. He’d never been very social, so he’d been perfectly happy to volunteer to guard the Enterprise while everyone else went into town.

He’d only noticed Naomi and Lubo’s exchange halfway through, but he could guess how it started. It had ended more explosively than any of the other conversations he’d seen between those two, but this had been inevitable. Random passers by walked past Naomi as she sat on the dock, hugging her knees. It seemed that Dragonsthrall was not a place for people moved by a young woman’s tears.

Filli stared down, but Aaron couldn’t read the rat girl’s face. The Captain was below deck with Syl. Even Sosima, the closest thing that girl had to a friend on the ship, was busy organizing the process of unloading the cargo for sale. Aaron wondered why no one was doing anything.

Why aren’t I doing anything?

Aaron walked to the side of the ship, quietly hopped over, and approached the girl on bare feet. He didn’t want to spook her, and he knew she didn’t like him. It may have just been that Cave Mother unsettled her, but Aaron and Naomi hadn’t exchanged words even once.

He failed in his goal, perhaps because he’d been too quiet. She jumped when he touched her shoulder, despite every intention to be comforting. He pulled his own hand back like she was a snake about to bite. Naomi stared up at him, eyes wide, then scrambled to her feet.

“Sorry.” She said, “I must be in your way. I didn’t mean to.”

Her jaw, which Aaron remembered as normally quite smooth, was darker than normal and had a certain puffiness to it. Aaron didn’t think that came from her getting to eat more since coming onto the ship. He reached into the small pouch of dried fruit he kept for just such an occasion, channeling Cave Mother’s energy into the smallest raisin he could find.

“No, I just wanted to check on you.” he said, holding out the fruit, “Here, swallow this. It looks like chewing might be rough. It’ll help.”

Naomi looked suspiciously at the small berry, then back at Aaron. She let out a long sigh, and popped it into her mouth. She tried to chew, then winced and swallowed the infused berry. That made the swelling die down immediately.

“Thanks.” She said.

She still looked at him with clear suspicion, but that didn’t bother Aaron. He’d done things that merited a degree of suspicion, both as a Chelish officer and on Bonewrack, even if Naomi didn’t know about them. He turned to leave.

“Officer Ivey,” Naomi said, “Did my mother do something wrong, using your magic? Lady Sosima seems fine, but mother…”

Naomi trailed off. He considered, for a moment, lying to the girl. It would have been easy to tell her that her mother was being puppeteered. There was certainly precedent for that with stronger spirits. He could have couched it in technical details, told stories of how spirits far stronger than Vishgurv could obliterate untrained minds that foolishly summoned them. It would have been easy to comfort her by claiming that wasn’t Lubo.

“I think she might not have been ready to hold that much power.” He said instead, being as generous as he could manage, “You might think of it like being drunk? I can tell you more if you’d like. I’m making tea.”

Naomi looked at Sosima for a few moments, then back at Aaron.

“Yes.” She said, “I think I’d like that.”