Welton’s Furnace is currently undergoing a metal shortage. Despite being in possession of the largest mines, the dwarven kingdom has stated that their mines aren’t available, leading to mithril and other magic metals skyrocketing in price. My contacts have been hearing about monsters making their presence known in the deepest confines of their kingdom; and now it seems they have begun to expand into the mines as well. I will let you know when more information has surfaced.
~An Idillian spymaster’s report
Chester dreamed of the forest.
A beautiful, deciduous forest dominated by turquoise trees as tall as buildings. It’s otherworldly features had mesmerized the city slicker whose surroundings had only been concrete and artificial lights.
Then the beasts came. And with it a new, game-like world.
Wolves that tried to rend him limb from limb, lizards that spit out projectile venom and jaguars that moved faster than lightning. Chester’s dream quickly turned into a nightmare, re-enacting his entrance into this unfamiliar realm and his fight for survival. The man's powers were useless in the dream, and he remained in the same spot no matter how fast he ran.
A human could only do so much in the face of these strange, magical monsters.
His surroundings blurred, meshing together scenes from his early days; living off of insects, getting poisoned by berries, and sleeping with one eye open. It was truly a hell that he never wanted to relive. Chester remembered the fear, the terror, and although he pretended to shrug it off, his experiences had disturbed him to no end.
An ungodly roar shook him to the core, and a pit began to form in his stomach at the titanic beast that erupted from the shadows. A snow-white bear that rivalled a pickup truck in length, with dozens of scars along its hide. His breathing became labored as he saw the colossal monster rise to its full height and lunge for him.
“Motherfu-” Chester startled himself awake, sweating and trembling. “Oh.”
He turned to see that Damien had woken up, confused and staring at him with a tired look in his eye. “Something wrong?”
Chester shook his head. His eyes drifted to the scars lining his upper body, proof of his survival in that hell. “No, no, just a bad dream. Also; do you mind looking for any, um, camping equipment?”
“Like, tents?”
“Yeah, whatever we need for whenever we’re out of the city. Stock up on food, water; whatever we need. Doesn’t matter how much it is just get the best possible shit, alright? I’ll pay for it.”
The man resolved to stay in the cities whenever possible. But if the situation called for him to be outside once again, he refused to be caught unprepared.
The vampire shrugged, rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes. “Sure. I needed to buy things anyway.”
“Yeah, get whatever you want...I’ll be doing some sneaking around to try and figure out what I need for my plan.”
He left the boy to his own devices, giving him a smaller sack full of silver coins, with about five gold coins inside. Chester handed him the room key as well; a simple and crude one made of bronze.
“Don’t wait on me, I’ll probably be gone for the whole day. See ya’.”
After tidying up, Damien made his way downstairs, greeting the innkeeper politely. He got directions to the shopping district, in the northeastern part of the city.
The Tower of Magic, the most premier attraction of Elway Kingdom cast a gargantuan shadow over the kingdom. The vampire admired the building that touched the skies; its pointed roof was over three kilometers in the air.
The most interesting feature were the floating constructs orbiting the tower. They only seemed to exist closer to the uppermost floors, and the boy’s keen eyes could spot people floating out of them and into the tower.
Squinting his eyes, he could see a figure at the very top of the tower, standing on the roof. He strained his eyes, and saw that it was actually a person with a white robe. Damien couldn’t make out their features properly, but decided trying any harder was a waste of time.
Upon arriving he admired the variety and colorful atmosphere. He examined the shops from outside, admiring the items. He got a few subtle looks, which he pointedly ignored. He had acknowledged that his diminutive and childlike figure was out of place here, but he didn’t care. Damien began to make a mental list of items for long trips, referencing what his instructors had taught him along with his own personal experience.
“Extra-dimensional bags! Only 2 gold each! Come and get ‘em before we’re out of stock!” A man said, waving people into his store.
He walked in, eyes widening at the fantastical items being offered in the shop. Mostly catering to improving an adventurer’s quality of life, they offered magical items and artifacts. However, the price tags attached to the items were exorbitant.
‘Wisperium’s own artifacts are far superior. This is an overcharge, regardless of the quality.’
His eyes turned to the ring on his left hand; an ominous, blood-red crystal sat on a circular, golden band.
RING OF THE VAMPIRE LORD
- Made from bloodstones and crafted by a master artisan, this artifact boosts any dark element enchantments.
- 10% boost to max HP/MP and regeneration.
- 15% boost to dark magic, lowers light elemental damage received by 15%
- PREREQUISITE: Only vampires can wear this ring.
- Weight: 0.1kg
His father had bestowed him this gift before he kicked him out. He remembered Chester’s expression when he had seen the artifact’s stats. Damien had laughed when the man realized he couldn’t use it himself.
‘I was half afraid he’d lop off my finger…’
The vampire approached the shopkeeper who was still ushering in new customers, and he turned his attention to the shorter boy, remaining respectful and polite. Damien noticed the man eyeing his family ring with a hint of curiosity.
“Ah, what can I do for you lad?”
“Do you have any items for shelters? Perhaps some sort of magical tent?”
The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
The man’s eyes brightened, beckoning the boy into the back of the store. He told another employee to keep watch of the door, before leading Damien to a shelf with numerous, small one-inch cubes.
“These instant cubes were recently commercialized and mass produced, and possess several features! Upon using the activation word, these cubes will expand into large shelters that are resistant to all sorts of weather. Currently, we offer models that expand 20, 40 and 60 square meters! They come with additional storage, a small barrier to ward off intruders, and furniture installed!”
Damien asked some more questions regarding the item's usefulness, and the shop attendant had procured a brochure explaining in much more detail what the instant cube offered.
“How much is the first model?”
“100 gold.”
His eyes bulged at the price, and he froze in place. The vampire was sure that he could buy a complete set of adamantium armor with that money.
“If you’d like, we also offer economic alternatives. They are not as luxurious or portable, but certainly a fine substitute.” The man said, taking note of his customer’s reaction.
He bowed his head. “I’ll have to discuss this more with my…party member. I will return soon.”
Damien left, opting to stay within the budget for now. The boy decided to discuss it with Chester if he was willing to buy such an expensive item. He entered the less luxurious shops that offered adventuring goods, making a mental list of what they would need.
Reusable torches, blankets, and simple clothing were the first things he bought. Damien acknowledged that wearing the same outfit was tasteless, regardless of its quality. Rations, rope, a reusable water supply and basic cooking utensils were items that he figured would be useful along the way.
“Can I buy one extra-dimensional bag? The largest model you have, yes.”
His total came down to two gold and thirty-five silver, and he walked out the store with a sizable bag in tow. Not only did it possess several pockets, each one could fit massive amounts of items. Damien did his best to keep an eye out for any thieves thinking that he would be an easy mark. Completing the task Chester had set out for him, the vampire looked for his own list of items.
The vampire went from shop to shop, exploring the more esoteric and mysterious shops that offered rare and fantastical ingredients for potion-making and alchemy. However, none were carrying what he wanted.
An older female shop attendant wearing a wide brimmed wizard’s hat, looked at him curiously. “You won't find any human blood here, kiddo. Elway outlawed that sort of stuff from being sold since it can be used for demon rituals and whatnot.”
His shoulders sagged in disappointment, looking downtrodden and doing his best to appeal to the shopkeeper, who relented. “Well...You could find some in the black market. It’s dangerous, and you’ve gotta have someone with you when you go there, understand?” She stressed, giving the boy a stern look.
He nodded, bobbing his head up and down in a childlike manner. “Okay, I promise!”
“What do you even need that stuff for?”
Damien shrugged casually. “My teacher didn’t say.” He was reluctant to reveal that he was a vampire. Although they weren’t ostracized often, the boy did not wish to attract unnecessary attention. He decided that pretending to be an alchemist's apprentice was the simplest solution.
She reluctantly provided him directions to Elway’s Black Market, which he committed to memory before leaving. The shopkeeper had told him there were multiple entrances, but the one she knew was only a few kilometers away.
He made a beeline for the area described in the paper. It took him back to the roundabout. He continued into the narrower streets, before making a left turn into a dark alleyway. It was empty, with only a few pieces of garbage and puddles covering the path. A few homeless people stared at the boy with envious eyes, but hesitated to do anything further when he looked them in the eye.
The vampire knew that most people felt a sense of unease with direct eye-contact. His father had likened it to a prey's sense for danger ringing alarm bells. He tried it on the illusionist, but to no avail.
Damien saw a brick marked with a small, almost unnoticeable ‘X’ scratched into it at the bottom where his feet were, and gave it a small kick. The brick wall in front of him vanished, turning into a stairway dimly lit by a few torches that led underground. He looked side to side, ensuring that nobody was going to see him enter.
The vampire made his way down, revealing an entirely new world. It was a brightly lit underground cavern, and much livelier than he expected. Small, pop-up shops and established ones populated the area. He expected a lot more shady characters, but it was extremely similar to how the shops above operated. It was busy, but markedly less populated than regular shops.
There was certainly an uptick in exotic and possibly illegal ingredients. He stuck close to the sides, away from the crowd and looking into the windows, searching for anything that vaguely looked like they offered human blood.
A hand reached out to grab him by the shoulder, to which he responded by crushing their fingers under his grip.
He turned around and glared at the man with an icy stare. The individual, who cradled his damaged hand, looked fearfully at the child. Deep, obsidian eyes with a hint of red flashed angrily. The injured individual trembled, feeling an instinctual desire to run.
“Don’t touch me.”
The crowd passed by, barely reacting apart from a few glances. Nobody took action. Damien decided to wear his hood, keeping it up as he traversed the Black Market.
It took some time, but he eventually found a shop that looked like it suited his needs.
CONNOR’S ORGANS
A sign was posted outside with the shop’s slogan.
You stab 'em, we slab 'em.
We are accepting donations!
“What can I getcha’?” The man asked. The shop was far less organized than what he expected it to be, and was full of several jars and body parts lying haphazardly around the interior. Some of the jars had eyeballs, and an involuntary shudder ran up his spine as one moved.
The man himself didn’t seem special, apart from a gray streak in his hair; rugged, old and fat. He was wearing a tunic stained in unknown liquids, inspecting items in the shop when Damien entered.
“Hello, I’m looking for human blood.”
“Any kind in particular? Virgin, female, child, or all three?” The man asked as he gently shook an eyeball in one of the jars. He muttered something to himself before writing on his clipboard.
“Doesn’t particularly matter.”
The man shifted, going behind the counter. A few items rolled around as he searched, including a heavily stitched human arm. Damien stepped away from one of the jars that had an odd, pulsating flesh bulb within.
Damien was unsure if he was imagining things, but it looked like it was trying to come towards him. He suppressed the urge to run in terror.
“Here.” A large, clear blood bag was deposited onto the flat surface. It had letterings inscribed on the bag. “Half a gallon. Male, Type A. He was about forty years old when I too-I mean, he donated his blood.”
Damien chose to ignore the last part. “What’re the runes on the bag for?”
“Storage purposes. This one cools it down, and the other one preserves it. Makes it last even longer. Overall? I’d say you could make this last two months, but it won’t expire for years.”
He froze. His eyes stared at the man with more caution. “What do you mean by that?”
The man looked on nonchalantly. “Well, you’re a vampire, aren’t you? It’s not particularly difficult to tell.”
Damien sighed, scratching at his jet black hair. He was not keen on revealing that knowledge. It didn’t seem like the man was going to use the information against him and he decided to relax. “What gave it away?”
The shopkeeper snorted. “Pale skin, and there’s already a minor red tint in your eyes. Probably at the beginning stages of blood-frenzy. And you’re looking for human blood. What kid goes around looking for human blood here? The few orders I have for blood are usually from vampires, or demon cultists. I’ve dealt with you bloodsuckers before.”
Damien blushed in embarrassment. It wasn’t as well-hidden as he had originally assumed. “Alright. I'll take it.”
“50 silver pieces.”
He barked out a laugh. “I’m a child, but I'm not an idiot. 35 silver. Who pays 50 for a bag of blood?”
“The enchantments make it cost extra. 50 silver.”
Damien’s eyebrows furrowed. “Hmm...45?”
The shopkeeper shrugged. “Sure.” The boy placed the money neatly into piles and he pushed the bag towards the boy. Damien placed it inside his extra-dimensional bag with little trouble.
“Just out of curiosity, but which clan are you from? Valentine? Drake?”
Damien lowered his robe enough to show the royal crest on his vest; a beautifully crafted badge, depicting a glistening, red rose.
The man’s eyebrows were raised high, and he stiffly bowed to the boy as he left. His entire demeanor had changed upon showing which clan he belonged to.
‘It seems he is not ignorant of the Rose clan…Peculiar. Father did say we had a great reputation outside of Wisperium. It is best not to abuse it.’
It didn’t take long for the vampire to make his way back out. No one bothered him as he retraced his steps. Damien assumed the people in the black market had enough sense to know that no regular child would be wandering the streets like this anyway, and saved themselves from a very painful fate. As reluctant as he was to kill people, he did not hesitate when it came to brutally injuring or maiming those with ill intent. Damien exited the Black Market with no problems.
He turned to see that the brick wall illusion had set itself back in place, almost like it had never existed.
The child maneuvered his way through the crowds, now more busy at peak-noon. The boy returned to the shopping district, searching for any places that piqued his interest now that his task was complete. A part of him wanted to tour the city and sightsee, but Chester’s request for him to earn income was on his mind.
The demographic of the crowd changed as he got closer to this part of the city; more wizards and colorful characters frequented these streets. He abruptly stopped to avoid a portly, middle-aged man being trailed by a timid-looking fellow with glasses asking him questions.
“..-velous. Your grandfather was the original host of this auction?” The bespectacled man asked, his eyes being covered by the glint of his glasses.
His hair was blonde and tied in a ponytail, sticking out in odd angles as he tried to keep up with the man. The man’s eyes flitted nervously, before landing on Damien, and the two made brief eye contact.
The larger man puffed up in pride. “You heard that right. Lanes is a family-owned business and it’ll stay that way for as long as I’m alive!”
Damien narrowed his eyes. There was something oddly familiar about the blonde man, and he stared at him curiously as the duo headed into one of the largest buildings in the area. With a sign above its doors, displaying the building's name in bright, gold lettering.
LANES AUCTION HOUSE