Battleforged
patreon
Chapter 482 - Negotiations
🕑 Added 2024-12-09 04:00:03 +0000 UTCEric took a deep breath of crisp autumn air complemented by the rustling oak trees along the boulevard as he stepped out of the Grand, noting that the theater crowds had lessened just a bit, though there were still carriages aplenty, and in direct contrast to the actual New York he had read up on, it hardly smelled like horse shit at all. One would hardly think that city squares had once been piled high in horse manure, and that farmers could freely cart away as much as they desired for their crops, and gladly so.
“And perhaps that’s one point I’ll happily concede to the magic of this regio,” Eric said with a smile. “Because there’s verisimilitude and harmonious resonance with the reborn souls of centuries past…”
His familiar chortled. “And there’s smelling horse shit all day when your Perception’s over a thousand.”
Eric nodded, gazing up at the starry night sky, exactly like the heavens of just two years ago. “Damn right, Bunbun. Come on. Let’s see if we can find this Maybel Drachen and help a certain family before the hour gets any later.”
Roving eyes took in a still very lively theater scene when a carriage driver nearby audibly cleared his throat.
“Off to a late night party, sir? I’d be happy to serve as your escort.”
Eric turned a casual eye to a uniformed carriage driver sporting grey eyes and a clean-shaven countenance, showing off features smooth and utterly free of blemish.
It was all Eric could do to hold back a grin. “I don’t see why not. Consider yourself hired.”
“Wonderful, sir. Please, step inside.”
Eric found it a delight to open the old-fashioned handle and seat himself upon the stuffed leather cushion, hearing the driver’s voice above him perfectly clearly.
“Where to, sir?”
“Seventh and Vine. Drachen residence.
“Very good, sir.”
And with that they were off, the pair of glossy black stallions clopping along the cobblestone road at an easy, effortless canter as the driver slowly made his way past the pedestrian-filled boulevard to less busy thoroughfares, where their pace picked up.
Eric leaned his head back with a smile while his familiar wrinkled her nose.
“Wow. I actually smell a trace of sulfur.”
“I know. Isn’t it wonderful?”
She gave him a pointed look. “You think it will be this easy?”
He winked, saying no more as the carriage seemed almost to float along the road, so well-made was the leaf spring suspension.
“A beautiful night, isn’t it sir?” Querried the driver.
“Indeed it is, good sir.”
“Please, call me Harvey. So, what brings you to the city?”
“Just seeking my fortune,” Eric quipped. “The same as most folk who come to the big apple, no?”
This earned a chuckle. “What a quaint term. Indeed, sir. New York proper is a wonderful place to make one’s fortune! The cannery, tannery, and docks are always looking for fresh workers, though by the cut of your jib, I’d say you’re made of finer cloth than suited for those professions.”
Eric chuckled. “Fair point! Exploration’s my game at this point, Harvey. The continent offers all sorts of opportunities for surveyors, adventurers, and not to put too fine a point on it, treasure hunters as well.”
“Indeed, the New World’s filled with glorious opportunity!” Harvey happily agreed. “So, what brings such a well turned-out explorer as yourself to New York?”
Eric smiled, happily stroking the fur of the familiar purring in his lap with one hand, while the other stroked the fine grained wood of his seat, marking it with far more than the memory of his passing.
“I’m on the hunt for exotic treasure, my good man. It just so happens that some of the best places to chase down secrets aren’t always in the wilds. Sometimes, the generously funded libraries of academies or lords and ladies of a scholarly bent can be just as useful in tracking down wonders as the most detailed maps or juiciest rumors.” With that, Eric went into a completely fictitious account of his explorations of upstate New York, describing sights of beauty and wonder that were, in fact, entirely true… save for leaving out the peril, hardship, and slaughter that had marked each expansion of his domain.
“How remarkable! To have seen such wonders and sights. And here I thought they were mostly bar talk. How fascinating to hear those words from the mouth of an actual explorer! Ah. Seventh and Vine. here we are, sir. Lady Drachen’s residence. A pleasure to serve you, sir!”
Eric effortlessly stepped out upon a beautiful tree-lined residential road lined with impressive Tudor style manors graced with gardens lush with the scents of blooming flowers. Wisteria and honeysuckle teased his nostrils, along with surprisingly fragrant roses.
Eric smiled into the night, sensing no danger or hostile gazes upon him as he tipped the driver a thin silver eagle for his troubles, earning a tight-lipped smile before the man tipped his cap. “Thank you kindly, sir. Shall I wait on you?”
“No need,” Eric assured. “A good night to you, Harvey.”
“And to you as well, sir.”
With that, the man drove off.
Eric closed his eyes, flashing a fierce smile of his own.
Blood Mastery skill check: Success! Like calls to like. You sense the mark of your passage!
You’ve discovered a novel way to make use of your gifts.
Blood Mastery is now Rank 37!
“Did it work?”
Eric nodded as he turned to the imposing looking manor before him. He approached the garden gate, surprised to find it unlocked as he began the walk up to the house proper, happy to see light emanating from the finely wrought window panes, though steel bars and curtains kept passersby from casual spying or entrance.
“Surprisingly, it did. And since like calls to like… I sense it. And if I pull up my interface.”
“Awesome! We’ve got an actual necro-tracking device! And really, it’s not so surprising. If you can sense every revenant you leave on the field of battle, well enough even to direct them as if they were all an extension of yourself… why wouldn’t you be able to spot a drop of blood infused with your essence of Dominion? What’s more ‘real’ and ‘you’ than that?”
Eric nodded, patting Bunbun’s head as he placed her upon her favorite perch, his left shoulder.
“My thoughts exactly.”
Bun nodded. “Of course he’s probably just your regular every day carriage driver whose absolutely chuffed to receive precious silver from silly young heirs playing at being explorers who should be tipping a couple copper feathers at most.”
Eric suppressed a chuckle. “Maybe. Or maybe his skin’s just a bit too perfect for me not to suspect other origins.”
This earned a head tilt from his familiar as Eric politely knocked on the brass owl knocker in the middle of the oak door, then took several steps back, hands behind his back, like a proper gentleman daring to intrude at such a late hour.
“Maybe? Maybe they’re seeking out feelers for prospective adventurers worth hiring on?”
Eric grinned. “Or you could be right, and Harvey’s just a man making a living and I did nothing but level up my skill with the help of a clueless driver.”
At that moment a brass eye-hole shined with light.
“The hour is late. Are you lost, sir?”
Eric put on his best smile. “Lady Drachen, I presume?”
“Yes, this is she. How may I help you?”
“A mutual acquaintance is in need of your expertise. She has sent me on her behalf to request your aid.”
“A ‘her’, you say. Interesting. Might I have her name, then?”
“Of course. Do the names Irene or Sveta mean anything to you?”
The sudden startled silence was broken by the sound of latches and locks undone.
The door was opened to reveal a cool-eyed woman wearing leathers that were the farthest thing from the fashion of this time and place. No trace of pastel colored bonnets or evening gowns were in evidence. Instead, she was kitted in form-fitting leather that glowed with a reinforced mesh-work of enchantments that Eric noted even if he could only guess at their specific properties. It was more than enough to reaffirm that Maybel Drachen was the farthest thing from a resident native to this time and place… if the pressure she radiated hadn’t already given it away.
“All those who would enter in good faith are welcome,” she formally declared, stepping back and making room for him.
Eric didn’t hesitate to bob his head before the thoughtful gaze of the woman clearly measuring him at least as intently as her was her, neither of them so crass as to attempt an Identify or similar working on the other.
“By your leave,” Eric softly said, stepping across the threshold… and save for the slightest tingle, he sensed nothing untoward at all.
This earned a soft-lipped smile. “Very good. Now please follow me to my study where we can discuss the matter that brought you here over tea and biscuits like civilized folk,” she said, nodding to a snappily dressed gentleman who dipped his head before going off to no doubt prepare the tea and snacks.
Maybel then led him from the floral patterned foyer down a portrait-lined hallway and finally into a grand chamber housing what seemed to be an entire library’s worth of leather-bound volumes upon waxed hardwood shelves under a walnut ceiling blessed with multiple chandeliers filling the entire chamber with a warm steady glow.
Eric hid a smile, bemused to see that no effort had been made to install gas lights or candles for the sake of verisimilitude. His hostess had instead taken the pragmatic approach of using mage-lights that gave off a steady glow and had absolutely no chance of setting her no doubt precious library ablaze.
The sharp-eyed woman noted his gaze. “I see you understand the nature of these lights.”
“I do.”
She snorted, eyes twinkling. “I’d ask if you were from the Enigmatic’s faction, but for you to have made the acquaintance of Irene… I suspect your reach goes far beyond their own.”
Eric blinked at this. “I’m sorry, who are the Enigmatics?”
The woman tilted her head curiously before seating herself down upon a wing-backed leather chair before a fine oak study table that already had a full tray of biscuits waiting for them, and both a pot of tea and a pitcher of cold milk.
“Please, make yourself comfortable…”
“Ernest.”
She blinked at this, before pouring him a glass of milk, smiling at his expression. “It’s obvious enough which you prefer. Your humors give it away. So please, enjoy the crisps and fruit pastries with your drink.”
Bemused, Eric happily did just that, earning an approving nod from his hostess.
“Excellent. Now first, before we discuss what brought you here, tell me what you understand about our city’s unique confluence of potentialities.”
Eric blinked at this, before giving a rueful chuckle. “Very little, I’m afraid.”
She frowned, looking at him curiously. “Truly? You come here to this level completely naive to its intricacies? You don’t represent any faction at all?”
Eric slowly shook his head, taking a sip of milk.
A gentle smile turned to the gaze of a hawk, locking upon his own.
“Not even Lord Song’s?”
Eric took his time answering, sipping his drink as he held her gaze. “Do you care in the least about what happens to Lord Song?”
She coldly shook her head.
“Good.” Eric’s smile was the farthest thing from the good-natured message bearer that had knocked so politely at her door. “I can happily assure you that I am no fan of his.”
This earned a snort. “It pleases me to hear that, Ernest. To make a long story short, you’re in the quarter favored by those who enjoy reveling in the mysteries of the most precious of all fluids.”
Eric blinked at this, lips curving wide. “Blood magic.”
“Indeed. Though for most, it is but an integral aspect of their natures… some study it in the most scholarly of fashions.”
“Vampires!” Squealed Lilly, who until that moment had been content to doze on Eric’s arm.
Eric couldn’t quite hold back a smirk at Maybel’s startled gasp… or the way her eyes widened with dismay as she lurched back.
Eric could taste the sudden sharp frisson of a killing aura flaring, as diamond hard eyes bore into his own.
“Necromancer!” She hissed.
“Noble Adventurer exploring the mysteries of life, death, and everything in between,” Eric countered with a wink.
Maybel crossed her arms, slowly shaking her head. “Please leave.”
Eric instantly stilled, teasing smile fading to a hard line as he gazed at her with cool professionalism, slowly rising from his seat as he felt the sudden strain of oath-bindings and obligations. A quest perilously close to being failed… by no fault of his own.
“Are you absolutely sure you won’t hear me out?”
“Please leave now!” She snapped, eyes flaring as multiple arcane wards abruptly flared into place. “I won’t ask again.”
Eric’s ears rang with the sudden snapping of oath-bindings. An awful pressure that, to his furious alarm, strained his entire cultivation foundation. “Bullshit! I gave no such—” Before slipping free of his soul, causing him no damage at all.
He had acted in good faith, he had arrived at his destination, and he had been rebuffed. Not once, but twice, with the most gentle of entreaties and to press any further would imperil that which he had intended to assuage and entice.
No more could be asked of him.
He had done his part.
Then he smiled.
Glad that he was free.
But still, one final step he could take. So no lingering shadow of doubt as to his obligations would mark his path forward.
A path that most definitely would not include dining with dragons in the near future.
He still recalled the added twist to reveal no confidence a certain hostess had demanded… and he had had no way to rebuff that obligation at all. It had pierced all his defenses, sliding along avenues the System didn’t even register as an attack.
Not as foul as goblin contract twisting arts, perhaps. Yet even as his ire momentarily flared, he realized that he had triggered naught but reciprocity with his Blue Corp confidentiality request.
But still. To sense that there was an entire discipline's worth of obligations, enticements, and traps in oath-binding circles—that it was just another arena where tactics and skill mattered at least as much as righteous intentions—troubled him more than he cared to admit.
“Of course,” he said, his hand slowly reaching into his pouch as her eyes flared and she drew a rapier from nowhere, the tip screaming with deadly piercing potency.
Eric didn’t flinch an iota, just held her gaze as he solemnly presented the letter he held in his hands.
“I will take my leave, per your request. The sacred covenant between guest and host will not be broken by me. But please keep in mind that we have technically broken bread and shared salt, if those tangy fig treats are anything to go by.” He flashed a quick smile. “That being said, I came to deliver a message.” He gently placed the paper upon the table. “From Princess Irene to one Maybel Drachen. I now judge my duty to be fully discharged, and I bid you farewell.”
With that, he calmly turned around and slowly made his way across the library and to the hallway beyond, paying no heed to the sudden crackling of hastily read paper.
What he felt then was a profound sense of relief. He truly had done his part, and had, in fact, gone above and beyond, even now sensing a bit of quest-completed potency infusing him. So that was something, at least.
“Well, that was interesting,” Eric said with a smirk to his sad-looking familiar as they reached the foyer.
“And I thought she looked so cute in those leathers with a smart head on her shoulders. Not to mention that winsome fey smile that’s totally your thing. Too bad she turned out to be a complete cunt,” Bunbun declared with a sigh.
“Wait! Please, wait!” pled the harried voice behind them.
Eric stilled, genuinely surprised that the woman wasn’t glaring her contempt at his back.
Yet he couldn’t deny that a part of him, a very large part of him, wanted to depart with a laugh, now free as a bird of too easily twisted bindings, and he had absolutely no desire to be roped into any more games involving a dragon clan’s plight.
Instead he turned around, hands behind his back, saying nothing.
Because if this wasn’t resolved peacefully, he would have to take on a clan whose only real crime had been pissing him off with oath-binding skills that were a bit more invasive than pre-apocalypse 21st century courtesy preferred.
If he wanted that territory, there was no other way forward.
And he wanted that territory.
Preferably without slaughtering beautiful women, even if they were beautiful women who could turn into dragons. Which was actually pretty cool.
The breathless Maybel froze, licking her lips as two splotches of color caressed suddenly flustered cheeks. “I… I fear I spoke in haste. I pray you will forgive careless words said in a moment’s startlement. They were perhaps… unworthy.”
Eric turned to his familiar. She glared for long seconds at an increasingly flustered Maybel before giving a tiny shrug.
“Now that I think about it, you didn’t mock or threaten or belittle us. Just asked us to leave when we made you uncomfortable. And that’s your right. Hell, that’s anyone’s right, in their own home.” Bunbun flashed a surprisingly gently smile. “It’s cool. I might have been thrown for a loop myself, had I encountered a talking rabbit, not that long ago. Before I became one, I mean.”
This became a surprised blink, before Maybel dipped her head. “I thank you for your understanding. Would you both care for dinner? I… have a proposal for you.” She took a shuddering breath. “Both of you.”
Eric grinned, sharing a look with his familiar.
Bunbun giggled. “Sure, lady! With our Vitality? We’ve always got room for seconds!” Bun’s voice firmed, no longer playful. “So long as it’s understood that we’re under absolutely no obligation. We’ve discharged our duty. Anything discussed from this point on is done so free of obligation or expectation. Enticements, not oath-binding bullshit, is the only thing that might coax our service.”
To her credit, Maybel looked genuinely surprised and maybe a bit flustered with Bun’s rebuttal.
“Yes… of course! I put absolutely no obligation or bindings upon you.” She flashed a surprisingly anxious smile. “Though perhaps I could entice you with prizes from my personal hoard… I mean collection, should we come to a mutually equitable understanding?”
Bunbun positively beamed at that. “Sounds good. Let’s eat!”
Before long, Eric and his familiar found themselves back in the study, not the dining hall, though they were feasting upon bowls filled with a very tasty lobster bisque.
“There’s always plenty of lobster and fish for sale at the market. Somehow, we always have a bountiful catch, right by the shore,” Maybel said with a bemused smile, as if sharing an inside joke.
Eric grinned, happily sipping his soup. “Somehow, I’m not surprised.”
Maybel steepled her fingers, taking Eric’s measure. “I’ll cut to the heart of it. As precarious as Irene’s situation is… against a Silver-Tier Hunter, I can think of only one path forward that can help us. Fortunately, the keys we need, quite literally, are here, in this city.”
Eric blinked at this, stealing a glance Bunbun’s way. “I take it this has to do with the mysteries of this realm?”
Maybel’s eyes crinkled in a relieved smile. “So you do understand!”
Eric forced chuckle. “Sadly, no. It’s just a term I heard thrown around. And certainly mysteries abound in this place, after I found myself in this realm that feels like an idealized New York of the eighteen hundreds, or maybe a gas lamp paranormal thriller, just by choosing to go down a certain unremarkable alleyway topside.”
Maybel furrowed her brow. “To cross through the ways so effortlessly, with no ferryman or guide.” Her features lit up in a brilliant smile. “How fortunate! Well, to answer your question… yes. For you see, I’m in search of a golden key trapped in Enigma. A key that will help me solve a riddle that's long plagued me, and perhaps aid my friend as well.”
Her lacquered fingertips tapped the pile of leather-bound books on the table between them. “If you were to retrieve me this key so that I might study its magics, I am certain… quite certain, in fact, that its properties will serve as an exemplary catalyst of ideas on how best to proceed with unraveling the burr in reality Irene finds herself trapped within, and freeing her at last.”
Eric’s heart was racing, his Social Perception, What The Other Party Wants, and Know The Score perks making it pretty damn clear that Maybe was holding something back. And Eric was almost certain that he knew what it was.
Fortunately, his Nose For A Bad Deal wasn’t pinging Maybel as rotten to the core, so there was that, at least.
Because if his hunch about that key was right, hunting it down would be very fortuitous indeed.
At least for him.
He flashed his most disarming smile. “I’m not sure I entirely understand. What’s the nature of this… golden key? How is it trapped? Do we know what it’s for?”
Maybel tilted her head. “Does this mean that you’re willing to accept a quest to retrieve it for me, then? I will pay you quite well.”
“Of course not,” Bunbun piped. “We’re just doing basic information gathering, at this point. We’re certainly not acknowledging formal commitments when we don’t even know what we’re getting into.”
She flinched at Bunbun’s rebuttal, but eased it into the politest of nods. “A fair point, familiar.” She gestured vaguely to the library behind her. “You’ll find among the many volumes of my collection more than one tome regarding New York’s secrets, hidden mysteries, potencies and powers. And though some of it’s contradictory and even more of it’s hogwash, I’ve managed to verify a great many truths and unravel a number of rather remarkable mysteries that might hold the keys to our city’s future.”
Eric blinked. “And that would be?”
She flashed a brilliant smile showcasing pearl white teeth. “Exquisitely crafted trinkets made by a genius eager to please New York’s masters. They're all but worthless in most people’s hands, but are definitely regarded as collector’s items, so intricate is their design, even as simple showpieces. Indeed, I’m almost positive that I could whip up a spell of unlocking that would be symbolically powerful enough to free even a Silver. But such a ritual requires an anchor, and I can think of no better example than lost collector’s prizes symbolizing unlocking the limitless potential of an entire city! One of these keys would be perfect, but more keys would be even better to strengthen the ritual symbolism. So let me make a proposition! I will work on hunting down the locations of these keys, and I will pay you no less than one hundred gold eagles for each key you… ahem… retrieve for me. Does this sound acceptable to you?”
Eric froze at those words startled by the number she so casually stated as if it weren’t an absolutely life-changing amount for most people.
A single troy ounce gold eagle was worth over 10,000 credits.
She had effectively offered him a million credits for every key found.
Her smile made it obvious that she fully expected him to be gobsmacked by the amount.
And indeed, for most people it would be a life-changing fortune.
But if Eric’s hunch was right, those keys were a bit more than simple collector’s items made by a skilled craftsman eager to please the city’s elites. If used correctly, Eric suspected that they would unlock a hell of a lot more than a path to freeing Irene.
Thoughts racing, he gave his answer with an adamant shake of his head. “No. I couldn’t take a million credits from you, Irene. Not for nothing more than the privilege of studying my key for the purposes of formulating a ritual.”
She blinked, nonplussed. “I assure you it’s no—”
Eric solemnly shook his head. “I wouldn’t dream of it! No. If your resources can help pinpoint the keys that I will collect, I will be more than happy to allow you to study them in return. This way, you’re able to free your friend without it costing you a fortune in gold.”
He flashed his warmest smile.
Maybel furrowed her brow. “So, you would be claiming the keys.”
“Of course! They’ll make wonderful souvenirs for my time here in New York. And I’m all about collector’s items and exotic curios. I’m a bit of a collector myself, you see. And the trickier they are to get, the more interesting a story I’ll have for any I manage to find!”
“You’re serious. You just want to show off the keys as a fete of personal triumph?” Maybel stared at his completely innocuous smile for long seconds before rubbing her temples. Then she crossed her arms, flashing him a hard smile in turn. “So I see we both have a thing for exotic curios. Good. I can respect a fellow collector. But the research I’ve invested isn’t something an outsider who lacks a profound degree of scholarship will have any hope of replicating unless they’re willing to dedicate years pursuit of answers.”
Eric nodded. “A fair point.” He then flashed his brightest smile. “Yet now I myself am intrigued and excited about this treasure hunt. So let me make a counter offer for you. You will help me track down one of these keys. I will do my best to retrieve it. If I judge it a curio truly worth my interest… I will pay you one million credits.” He flashed a cool smile at Maybel’s look of genuine surprise.
“You have that much resources? Truly?”
Eric dipped his head. “I do. I can pay immediately in Blue Corp credits or arrange a transfer… or deliver solid gold, if you give me a two week time frame. If, however, I decide that it’s not worth that much to me, then I will surrender the key to you for one hundred gold eagles, or a million credits, if you have a Blue Corp account.”
Maybel took a shuddering breath. Her look of surprise firmed into resolution Eric sensed wouldn’t go completely his way. “I’m afraid I’m going to need those keys if I’m to come to my friend’s aid, so I’m not sure if your proposal works for our situation.”
“And that’s the best part!” He said with a reassuring smile. “Even if I choose to keep them for my collection, I have absolutely no problem loaning you those keys, should they prove to be nothing more than dry collector’s items. Heck, at that point, I might offer to sell it all back to you.”
Maybel furrowed her brow, taking his measure for long seconds before her cheeks dimpled in a cheerful smile, the growing tension between them instantly fading into a warm accord.
“We can discuss the particulars after we retrieve the keys,” she said with a throaty chuckle of her own. “But you absolutely must let me be the one who does your portrait. I’m one of the best in the city, and I won’t charge you a single copper farthing. Are we agreed? And I’ll pay you good gold for those keys, even more than my original offer!”
Eric gave her a pointed look, lips curling in a bemused grin. “You have a buyer for them already.”
Maybe blinked, looking momentarily flustered before chuckling. “Well done,” she said, dipping her head. “Mayhap I do.” Her smile turned firm. “It’s indeed quite possible that I have a collector willing to pay me twenty million credits for the full set of five.”
Eric whistled. “No kidding!”
Maybel grinned. “And this hypothetical collector will remain confidential, for obvious reasons.”
“Of course.”
“But with that being said, perhaps I can go as high as two million per key. But only if we can successfully retrieve two or more.” Her smile hardened. “Which means that if you do manage to retrieve any of those keys and still wish to keep them… you will be obligated to pay me two million per.”
Eric flashed an equally hard smile. “If your information proves to be the ‘key’ to unlocking it’s location… then I will have no problem paying you those credits, so long as I’m mobile and am free to do so and unforeseen disasters aren’t hindering my path. Which is a cute way of saying that I’ll pay you ASAP, but no oath-binding bullshit if something comes up and I’m late.”
“Two million per key, young sir.”
“Two million Blue Corp credits per key your resources help me track down,” Eric insisted.
She stared at him for long moments, took a thoughtful sip of tea, then dipped her head. “Acceptable.”
Eric grinned. “Awesome. I look forward to a mutually profitable arrangement. Now, do you have any leads on any of the keys? Best we get started for Irene’s sake, as fast as we can.”
Maybel nodded. “As a matter of fact, I do.” Her eyes wandered over the library’s myriad tomes. Then she caught Eric’s expression and chuckled. “Don’t worry. I won’t bore you with the hundreds of hours of research I have already invested in this project. Your role will be quite simple, in fact, thanks to your unexpected talents with crossing the city. And it just so happens that I know precisely where one of those keys is hidden. If you truly feel up for it, we could track it down right now.”
“No problem at all, just as soon as I’m finished this delicious lobster stew!”
Her cheeks dimpled at Eric’s response.
“Very good, Eric. Just remember, your mission is to retrieve it and return it to me without delay. And honestly it would probably be best for both of us if you simply allowed me to purchase it for two million. Even if we ignore the collector, I still need to study it carefully, if I’m to help Irene.”
Eric chuckled. “I have no problem with you studying the key for your ritual, Maybel, though we might want to first prioritize tracking down any others, since you need the full set of five to fulfill your collector's request. And if we fail to find all five... well then that's all the more reason to be happy that I'm willing to buy each of them off you hands at two mil per."
Her brows tightened in a momentary scowl before she snorted. “You are a stubborn one, aren’t you? Very well. I’ll make sure you look quite dashing in your future portrait with a handful of keys and the smile of a too charming rogue, even if you make the smart move and sell them to me at double my original offer. Hah! Clearly, you’re a natural negotiator, and all the ladies you show it off to will adore it.”
Eric winked. “Wouldn’t that be something? Best of all, my Negotiation skill just went up one rank, so thank you for that, Maybel.”
She snorted at that. “So, you’ll sell me the keys after all. Happy to be of service. Soup finished? Excellent! Shall we be off for our midnight adventure?”
“Let’s.”
Moments later, they were out the door with Maybel barking quick orders to her house butler, yet Eric had already stopped in his tracks, eyeing the spectacle now before him.
A grand carriage glossed an ebony so rich it seemed to sparkle under the light of the full moon, a single door opening to reveal the handsome countenance of a man wearing a high collared open jacket revealing an exquisitely embroidered crimson-hued vest and a shirt of pristine white silk underneath. His topaz blue cravat of elegant crumpled silk accented his golden blond locks to dramatic effect, though Eric was most impressed with how well he wore a fencing saber at his hip with hanger straps comfortably supporting the sheath, even in the carriage.
The man flashed a smile as the wind caressed his locks, no doubt well aware of his striking appearance when Maybel hitched a breath upon turning to find his carriage waiting, before flowing into a half-curtsy.
“Lord Stephan! What an unexpected pleasure to see you so late in the evening.”
“Ah, dear Lady Drachen. Her Grace wished to extend you an invitation to attend her gala. You and your acquaintance both! How fortuitous to find you ready to enjoy a night about town.”
Maybel’s smile grew strained. “As much as I would dearly love to pay Lady Thorn my respects…”
“And she wishes to go over your most interesting proposal, of course,” Lord Stephan noted with a cool smile.
To Eric’s bemusement, Maybel was suddenly beaming. “Thank you, Lord Stephan. Your timing is beyond fortuitous. We would absolutely love to attend Lady Thorn’s Gala!”
When Maybel gestured to the carriage, a bemused Eric didn’t hesitate to get inside, getting no warning tingle down his spine, his Nose For Trouble not scrunching in the least.
Lord Stephan took on the smile of gracious host, hand extended to give Eric aid, his eyebrow raising when Eric flowed effortlessly into his seat, earning a quiet “How graceful,” before he lifted Maybel to sit in the surprisingly spacious seating across from him. Then they were off, the horses clopping upon the cobblestones just as expected, yet the draw of the carriage through city streets was a ride so utterly smooth that Eric would have thought himself on a gondola, or floating in the air.
His lips curved in a smile. “Impressive.”
“Isn’t it?” Lord Stephan concurred. “The latest leaf springs from Clan Bolton! We don’t often get a chance to trade with that level of the city, tensions being what they are, but their craftsmanship is nothing short of superb, and metal’s truth shines just as brightly here as it does there, ha ha, even if their more exotic implementations never seem to work as planned.”
Eric blinked at this. “Clan Bolton?”
The noble frowned, giving a curious tilt of his head. “Ah, I fear we have not been properly introduced. Lord Stephan, at your service.”
Eric grinned. “Ernest. A pleasure, Lord Stephan.”
The man steepled his fingers, giving a smiling Eric a thoughtful look. “Your attire certainly speaks to your exotic origins, as does the familiar upon your shoulder. I don’t suppose you’re an Enigmatic?”
Eric turned to Maybel.
She smiled tolerantly. “Unfortunately, my lord, my associate is completely unfamiliar with the term.”
“I see. So he is from beyond our sphere entirely.”
“Indeed. He will eventually serve as my escort, across lands I suspect he knows far better than I.”
“Strange lands most of us would consider a fantasy…”
“Save for wide-eyed youths kitted in such silly excuses for fabric or exotic pieces of weaponry, radiating a speed and power matched only by Lady Thorn’s elites,” Maybel said.
“Precisely.” Lord Stephan frowned. “Our unexpected visitors can be a bit of a bother to keep track of, but most are surprisingly well-behaved, with a genuine appetite for the finest food, plays, performances and galas, enriching our district considerably, and we always enjoy meeting fellow patrons of the arts.”
“And those visitors that aren’t well behaved?” Eric couldn’t help but ask.
The man snorted. “They find their welcome here quite short-lived, I assure you.”
“I see.”
Lord Stephan rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “So, you’re here simply to serve as an escort to our dear Lady Drachen when she braves the untamed wilds? No further interest in New York than that?”
Eric grinned. “Oh, rest assured, Lord Stephan. I have every intention of embracing all that the city has to offer.” He stole a glance out the fine glass window, delighting in the sight of seeing so many picture-book homes half hidden in foliage underneath a starry night sky. “I’m finding this place absolutely fascinating!”
Lord Stephan’s lips curved in a pleased smile. “I am so very delighted to hear that.”
Eric took a discrete look at his present attire, lips curving in a smile as he realized that he too was effected by social pressures and expectations. His mithril helmet, hauberk, and Cuirass of the Underlord were currently in his ES space. He was presently dressed in a perfectly pressed and presentable Sylvan uniform, including well-polished black leather boots, now looking every inch like a military cavalry officer, he supposed. At least he should be able to blend in with the upper crust of English or Colonial polite society. His sole concession had been to keep his mithril dachi at his side, which he thought was quite fitting for any officer, even if it had a bit more… presence than the typical cavalry or fencing blade worn as much as a sign of status and rank than for actual defense in the eighteen hundreds.
Lord Stephan’s eyes of course went right to the crimson-dyed hilt of his blade that Eric’s gloved fingers were now tapping thoughtfully.
“Impressive sword for a cavalry officer.” he said with a curiously raised brow.
Eric grinned. “Isn’t it? When my brigade charges, our enemies feel us coming, no matter how well armored they are. I promise you that.”
This earned a curious look. “So, your brigade takes on heavy cavalry with swords instead of spears? Do they all radiate the delicious potency of your blade?” He said with a teasing half-smile that could mean so many things.
Eric laughed. “Oh, fear not. We’re as skilled with our spears as we are our blades. I think you might be surprised by just how ‘pointed’ our conflicts sometimes get! Though we are believers in fast resolutions to all our disputes, so extended melee battles in the trenches hasn’t been an issue for us, fortunately.”
“Truly, and artillery isn’t an issue for you? My understanding is that cavalry regiments are on the wane, in favor of trench warfare in all its mucky, brutal glory with the increasing use of cannons and grapeshot.”
Eric grinned at those words, gently stroking his well behaved bunny. “Nope, I can happily say that artillery hasn’t been an issue for my regiment.” He winked. “Maybe we’re just lucky, like that.”
This earned an impressed nod. “Fascinating! May your luck never run out upon the fields of battle, young officer!”
“Dread Lord,” Bunbun quipped, earning a surprised blink from Lord Stephan as Maybel stiffened and hissed softly.
Eric suppressed a sigh. “Behave.”
“Forgive me, did your rabbit just speak?”
“And defy the natural order of things? I should think not!” Bunbun huffed, giving the bemused Stephan a haughty glare, before settling back in Eric’s lap, happily purring.
Lord Stephan looked momentarily bemused, before a gentle smile graced his elegant features. “So this is an Enigmatic’s familiar. How fascinating! No doubt your arts are quite useful for disorienting and confusing your enemies… or any opposing artillery regiment, no?”
Eric winked. “Sorry, that’s classified.”
“Of course, I understand completely. And what excellent timing! We’ve already arrived. Come, Lady Drachen, Officer Ernest. The gala awaits!”
Comments
Goldfish2
5 keys? 5 realms? Coincidence? I think not!
Goldfish2
You know… I wonder why bro can’t make a resource of replenishing gold or mithril or titanium or adamantite? I don’t believe for a second with all the wonders bros done he can’t do that as well. I’m willing to bet empire bullshit or emperor will try to take over or place controls or something on such resources and such Bs… but I say with bro natives accord that Eric can do something about that and why should he bother playing with the emperor and his games? Worse come to worse? Might as well have the Phoenix ascend on a burning empire. Bro could always do it. The enemies should be reminded of such things. Unfortunately it’s a memory to most now.
