Chapter 84 - The Aftermath of Battle
“Nice to see you lot again. Busy night?” asked one of the Fost sentries as Trey’s party walked up to the guild’s compound. He was a black man with a burly build and a thick beard, easy on the eyes if you were a lady. “You wouldn’t happen to be the group of people fighting over at the market, would you? We could hear and even see some of it from here. That was some real shit you got yourself into.”
Trey was covered in blood from head to toe, carrying his dead imp and still trying to hold back tears. Napoleon, Karus, and Lil-Daddy the minotaur were all dead, but they’d killed probably somewhere between 120-160 mercenaries. It had been a butchering. Even if MOST of their enemies had been poorly trained, poorly equipped, and averaging around level 25 without any magic, Trey likely should have died and it had been a major victory on his group’s part.
It still didn’t feel like it though, and he knew if they’d stayed any longer, they’d all have been goners.
Ashe was the one to speak up first, motioning to the 11 slaves still chained with shackles at their wrists and feet, and the four mercenary captives they’d knocked out and taken along the way at the request of Rivia. “We raided the slave pens. Do we have any more rooms we can rent out for the next while?”
The sentry, along with his comrades, gaped at Ashe and then Trey. Then he burst out into laughter along with his friends, calming down only a little while after that when he realized neither Trey nor Ashe found it funny.
“Sorry,” the sentry apologized and motioned towards Napoleon’s body. “I’m sorry if you lost friends. I just can’t believe you actually took on Ronnie.”
“Ronnie’s dead.” Reiklin stated as a matter of fact and a smug undertone to his words.
The sentry repeated this in a whisper and furrowed his brows, confused. “Ronnie’s dead… do you mean that? Nevermind, it’s really none of my business. This is Teretog after all and there are no laws here saying you can’t go do what you want, even if that includes killing the most prominent slave trader in the Lawless Lands.” He curiously gazed Trey’s way. “Did you do it for more thralls?”
Trey slowly nodded, staring at the floor. “I didn’t expect it to go so badly though. It was supposed to be an in and out covert mission… obviously that didn’t happen. Do you mind if we come in?”
The sentry’s eyes softened and he nodded, ordering the other guards to open the compound from the inside as the doors swung open. He dug around in his pockets and presented a key. “This is to the old storage room right below your place on the first floor. Just down the stairs and to the right. It should be big enough for your slaves… and even your other larger minions to stay there if you don’t want to dismiss them. We don’t mind, we trust you and the guild master really likes you. Whatever happened to that iron dwarf you turned into a thrall? I was wanting to go drinking with him again.”
Treys eyes shifted to the key. He took it and nodded in thanks. “Karus is dead.”
The sentry’s face fell at the news, and he sighed. “Alright. Well, go get some sleep and clean up. You all look like dog shit.”
***
The storage room was three times the size of Trey’s apartment, but had no windows and only crates for furnishings. Even when it came to crates, they were few and empty - leaving the room mostly barren. There were a couple of wooden support beams though, and the stone walls went rather high up before reaching the ceiling.
It was right under their rented living area just down the stairs like the sentry had told them, easily big enough to fit all 11 of their newly acquired slaves along with Trey’s two minotaurs and Toady. Atharost lit three of the torches holstered to the stone wall and the room illuminated rather nicely just as Piggy and Juila appeared in their scant undergarments.
“What do you need of us, master?” Piggy the elf asked subserviently and with a delighted light hum to her voice, letting her eyes trail over her young and very attractive owner. It was always a very good thing when Trey summoned her in the middle of the night, that truth had held firm since the first time he’d shoved an apple into her mouth and made her squeal like a pig while violently fucking her. Even now, she was envisioning the kinds of things he’d do to her tonight… god she loved her new life.
The amazonian thrall, Juila, only acknowledged him with a small nod - not saying anything but standing there looking at the floor with her hands clasped together obediently.
Trey sat down on one of the crates, holding Napoleon to his chest, and feeling a grief he could not quench. Why was he so affected by this? Had he liked Napoleon that much? It did not feel like he’d lost a pawn or tool, it felt like he’d lost a true friend.
Burying his emotions just momentarily and long enough to talk, Trey straightened up. “Piggy, I want you to both clean these slaves up, use some wash rags and bring them some food too.”
Piggy bowed and immediately left to do as he said. The 11 newly taken slaves sat or knelt huddled off to one side, still shackled and whispering to one another with new hope in their hearts. Three men and eight women, all high elves and humans - which made up the majority of the people living in the Lawless Lands.
With a long, drawn-out sigh and failing to suppress his tears any longer, a couple ran down his cheeks and he held Napoleon to his chest. “We’ll need to bury him… where do you think he’d want to be buried?”
“That won’t be necessary, master.” Rivia stepped forward, kneeling and placing her bladed crucifix staff across her lap. “Unless you’d rather not revive him. I had the minotaurs bring those captives for a reason...”
She wasn’t referring to the slaves, and gestured over to where four badly-beaten mercenaries were tied up in the corner of the room.
“Revive?” Trey repeated, confused for a minute until a lightbulb went off in his head. “Oh my GOD! Rivia! I fucking love you!”
He nearly dropped Napoleon’s body and ran over to sweep Rivia off her feet, embracing her in a bear hug and kissing her - surprising everyone there including her.
“Uh…” Rivia was blushing profusely and didn’t know how to react after being kissed like that. “Well, thank you.”
He put her down, kissed her again on the mouth, and wiped another tear from his cheek. Smiling widely, he whirled around and pointed to the slaves. “Have we identified their information?”
Izumi, who’d been cleaning her cannon on one of the crates, hopped off and trot over. “Yup. They’re all below level 3. That woman there is a clothier, and that wolf-girl demihuman with the hoop earrings is a low-level enchanter. The men are farmers, all of them. The rest of them were likely housewives because they don’t have any practical skills or classes.”
Trey eyed the clothier and jeweler. The clothier was a plump human woman in her 40’s who’d eaten too many pastries over the years of her life, and the enchanter was a very attractive blonde demihuman. She had similar animal characteristics when compared to Ashe, but instead of silky-smooth fur on the ears and tail – this girl’s fur was wilder and more voluminous. She also had sharp facial features, bright green eyes and looked to be around his age. Needless to say, he was a little struck by her.
He pointed to both of them. “Set them aside, I still have two charges left in my unholy script and I’ll turn them into thralls later.”
Izumi nodded and adjusted her top hat, motioning with her pistol for both of these women to stand up and sit a couple feet away from the other slaves. “Are you going to turn the others into thralls when your script tattoo recharges?”
Trey grinned. “We’ll see. Now… who to pick…”
The enchanter got up and did as she was asked without hesitation, quickly moving to sit next to one of the crates away from the others and tucking her tail between her legs. She was definitely hot, likely could have been a cosplay bikini model if she’d lived on Earth. Meanwhile though, the clothier was having a mental breakdown.
“Please, please I can’t become a thrall!” The plump woman began to cry and shake, quickly turning to sobs as Ashe prodded her with the end of a dagger. “Don’t you TOUCH me!”
The clothier swatted at the dagger in Ashe’s hand violently, but missed and ended up falling over due to her bindings. Ashe and most of the demons began to snicker or laugh at the pathetic attack, but Trey wasn’t having it.
He stepped up to her and slapped her lightly across the face - not too hard, but enough to get her to shut up. “Quiet down. I should clarify, none of you are going to be forced into a contract. It was merely an opportunity. If you don’t want to go, then we’ll let you go. But don’t expect anything other than a free ticket out of the compound, and good luck on your own. Ashe, could you come unlock her chains… and get started on the others too. Please and thanks.”
Ashe cocked her head to the side and walked over. “You don’t want to force them into a contract anyways?”
“Nope, not with the innocents.” Trey stood up and began walking towards the four mercenaries they’d brought along as captives. “Thralls are easy to come by, there’ll be more of them - ones who want to stay like Juila did. Or there’ll be assholes who deserve it, but these people don’t. I want to talk to the other slaves before they have the opportunity to go though, so no one leaves yet.”
He stopped ahead of the first of the four laid-out men who were bound, bruised and bloodied. The one closest to him had his left eye completely swollen shut, but spat at Trey as the summoner neared.
“Your mother was a fucking pig, and your father smelt of shits!” The man growled - right before a swift kick to his face sent his teeth flying in a bloody spray.
“Shut the fuck up…” Trey muttered. “Rivia, get to work. You know what to do.”
Murmurs and whispers amongst the slaves began again, and soon their once hope-filled eyes were replaced with horror as Rivia drew out her sacrificial dagger. The metal burst into green flames, and a sly smile crossed her lips as she approached the man Trey’d kicked.
An Exchange of Life (Alkir’s Miracle)
*Mark a target. When that target is killed, you may instantaneously
resurrect one friendly of your choice as long as their soul is still near their
body. 1 week Cooldown.
Muttering a prayer amidst the heavy breathing of the captives, Rivia held out her left hand over Napoleon’s dead body. The muttering continued as she switched targets and held her hand in the direction of the sacrifice.
“Please no… PLEASE NOOOO…” the mercenary began to beg louder and louder, and his body began to glow a faint green - as did the imp’s corpse.
Rivia finished the prayer and brough the dagger up above her head. “An Exchange of Life.”
Rivia knelt and the dagger came down with her, right into the man’s throat. The mercenary’s chainmail rattled violently as he struggled and choked, trying to suck in air as blood leaked into his lungs. Gasping, writhing around and lurching as Rivia slammed the dagger into his neck and face over and over again, and the man eventually became still in death.
The glow of the green light ceased, the imp’s wounds sealed shut, and a second later - Napoleon opened his eyes.
The little imp sat up, blinked a couple times and looked around. His wounds from the battle earlier that night were almost completely gone, and the internal damage to his organs was healed. He grabbed at his chest where a large cut had been, looked back up to Trey, and began to cry.
It was pitiful and even a little cute how the imp held out its arms and rushed over to Trey to hug his leg, sobbing as the little chest heaved up and down after the trauma. He tried to say things but couldn’t get the words out, and soon Trey bent down to pick him up and hold Napoleon curled up in his arms.
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“You’re fine… you’re fine…” Trey rocked his imp back and forth lovingly while shedding silent tears of his own. “You’re going to be alright.”
Whimpering and pushing his head into the crook of Trey’s arm, Napoleon remained motionless aside from the light quivering and shaking of his body.
Trey breathed in a deep sigh of relief and stood there for a couple minutes before handing Napoleon over to Izumi who happily took him to comfort the imp. Izumi and Napoleon got along really well and they’d become very fond of one another, so even she was a little teary eyed after his resurrection.
He placed a hand on Izumi’s shoulder. “By the way… great job today. You were amazing.”
Izumi beamed back at him and even blushed a little. “Thanks… The cannon’s pretty cool right!?”
He snorted in amusement. “I’d definitely say so.”
The remaining mercenaries however, were not so moved. In fact they were terrified, and one even tried to run.
The man, an elf, made it halfway to the door before Trey realized he was leaving and gave a mental command to Toady.
The oblivion toad reacted with incredible speed as his barbed tongue shot out across the room, impaled the blonde pointy-eared mercenary through the thigh and reeled him in; screaming all the way into the toad’s maw.
“Rivia, sacrifice that man for trying to run. In fact, sacrifice all three of the men under ritual for Absorbant Soul Sacrifice. We could use the stat points.”
The two other men immediately began to beg and plead, then they too began to scream as the two minotaurs converged on them to hold them down. Toady spat out the half-dead elf who’d tried running earlier and Rivia dragged him over to the others where she began to set up the ritual, drawing a blue chalk circle around them for the offering to Alkir.
Reiklin came to stand beside him with his arms clasped behind his back, standing with his head held high and watching the ritual unfold. “Fascinating. I’ve always wondered what it would be… never mind. What are you going to do with the slaves?”
Trey glanced her way and then to the remaining three human men - all farmers. There were also eight females, three elves and five humans including the clothier and the enchantress. “They’ll have a chance to either stay or go - but if they go, we’re not helping them beyond the ticket out. They’re on their own as soon as they leave. Otherwise, if they stay, the men will start training as fighters and the women will become prostitutes.”
“Prostitutes?”
“That’s what I said, isn’t it? They’ll be allowed to live comfortably as long as they do a good job for me. I’d rather not lose out on the income they’d provide as part of the brothel.”
Looks of both relief and revulsion or even a combination of both crossed many of the slaves’ faces, but none of them spoke up.
“Brothel?”
Trey scoffed. “You like repeating the words I speak, don’t you? Yes, brothel. I’m going to run a brothel for the Fost guild at lower rates than what they can get out in the rest of Teretog. Should be simple enough and I’ve already looked into it. If I put a flat rate of 50 coin for one half hour round, it should be low enough to get a good amount of regular business. Hey Izumi, can you go get some of those extra cots from that grumpy dwarf forgemaster of yours? The ones that he made but hasn’t sold yet? I’ll need… probably 8. Just bring all of them - depends on how many slaves decide to stay, we’ll see soon enough.”
Reiklin pooched his lips and agreed with a nod as Izumi gave a mock salute and headed out to wake up her grumpy dwarven forge master. “That… yes, that’s quite low. You’ll likely get a lot of business that way. Hopefully the amount of business you get evens out on the losses you’ll receive from pricing.”
Trey shifted his attention to the pretty demihuman enchanter with silver hoop earrings and walked over to where she was kneeling next to the still-quivering clothier. She bowed her head submissively as he approached.
“What’s your name?”
The green-eyed wolf-girl shifted uncomfortably, eyeing the dead mercenary still bleeding out on the floor and then averting her eyes from the screams of the three men behind her. She tensed up even further when the room grew colder, darker, and a sweet sinister laugh of the dark goddess graced her ears – with the hair on her tail sticking up on end.
The All Spirit’s voice rang into Trey’s mind. “Your minion Rivia’s skill Absorbant Soul Sacrifice has increased by 1 level. Your minion Rivia has gained XP. Your minion’s ritual has been completed. You have gained 3 strength and 8 speed stat points from this sacrifice. You and your minion Rivia have gained further favor with the goddess Alkir, Mistress of Darkness.”
“Your name?” Trey asked softly, and sitting in front of the two women who’d been able to acquire classes that interested him.
She anxiously met his gaze, and her knuckles turned white as she pressed her hands together to try and quench her anxiety. “Telipe… my name is Telipe. I’m sorry I was slow to respond… I am just afraid.”
She was quivering now, and for some odd reason this brought back a sense of nostalgia. Why now - he did not truly understand. Memories from back when he worked his father’s business as a syndicate under-boss flooded into his thoughts, and he let on a small smile. He’d been in situations like this many times before… this was nothing new. Perhaps his father would even be proud if he’d seen how Trey’d turned out here in this new fantasy world.
“No reason to be afraid. In fact we may even become good friends!” Trey grinned and motioned towards the plump woman with a glance. “You both have the opportunity to become my thralls, if you want it. I know that you in particular-”
He paused, head nodding to the clothier. “-Don’t want to do it, and that’s fine. I’ll let you go. But as I said, it’s a one-way ticket out of this guild compound and you’re on your own after you leave out the front door. I’m interested in your classes and was wanting to see how far I could take it, using you as an extension of myself.”
Trey turned his attention back to the blonde woman, but talked loudly enough for all the slaves to hear. “The other slaves that stay will have opportunities of their own… but they don’t have the classes to be anything other than basic fighters or prostitutes. At least for now, before they work themselves up. If they stay, that’s what they’re looking at - but it’ll all be under my protection. If you choose to stay, you’ll be provided for with food and shelter. We’ll help you emphasize and grow in your chosen class, the other slaves will have opportunities to gain their own classes, and you won’t be treated badly. It’s a pretty simple deal - join me and stay as I provide for you and protect you, or chance it on your own. And I’ll say it again - you, Telipe, will specifically become a thrall if you stay. You have five minutes to decide.”
He was interrupted by a pop-up notification.
======================================================
Your unique thrall evolution stone: Sacrificial Lamb - has matured.
======================================================
Oh shit. This was completely unexpected - he’d thought it’d take a lot longer for those stones to mature…
And he’d almost forgotten - not only did he have this newly matured thrall evolution stone, but he had that other stone he’d gotten from completing Eleknar’s quest this very night. He immediately withdrew the thrall evolution stone from his shadowform, along with the new minion evolution stone he’d acquired for completing the quest to kill the slave auctioneer Ronnie.
Unique thrall evolution stone: Sacrificial Lamb (Currently Mature)
Item Tier: (14) Artifact
Bonuses: None
Requirements: The sacrifice of a newborn lamb, and any thrall
Durability: 96/96
Special: This evolution stone is currently in the mature phase. This stone is now usable. This stone creates a unique-class demon out of a thrall.
Minion evolution stone: Ascendance (Currently Mature)
Item Tier: (14) Artifact
Bonuses: None
Requirements: Any minion who has a positive opinion of you, an Infernal’s Finger
Durability: 100/100
Special: This evolution stone is currently mature, and is non-specific. This evolution stone will emphasize whatever traits the selected minion already has, turning them into a more powerful version of the creature they already are.
The stones looked exactly the same - red and brown, about the size of his fist. Staring at them, he came to the realization that he had a lot to think about when selecting who got the stones… he had numerous minions, and only two stones. The sacrificial lamb stone could only be used on thralls, but the other was nonspecific. He immediately knew he wanted to use that one on either Napoleon, Atharost, or Rivia… but wasn’t sure which of them would get it.
He’d think about that in a minute.
He stood up, turned around, and addressed the other slaves as well. “That goes for all of you. To the three men, I know you’re farmers… but if you stay behind, you’re going to be turned into fighters. To the women, if you stay - you’ll become prostitutes. But all of you will be treated well. Let me know, talk about it if you want to - and by the end of these five minutes you’ll either be escorted out of the compound to fend for yourselves… and will likely die. Or you’ll be my subordinates. The choice is yours.”
From the back, where the three men were watching attentively – the youngest of the three farmers raised his hand. He was younger than Trey by at least a couple years, his hair was dark with good muscle definition, and he had a pretty-boy complexion.
“Yes?” Trey asked while folding his arms.
The man cleared his throat, stepped forward nervously, and glanced at the group of women nearby. “Uhm… Is it alright if I stay behind as a prostitute too?”
***
Five minutes later, and the slaves had decided. The two older men, along with the plump clothier, had all decided to leave. They were escorted - naked and without any supplies - from the building by Ashe and Atharost. The remaining women, 7 of them including Telipe, had chosen to stay behind and take him up on his offer. To Trey’s immense surprise and to the amusement of Rivia, the younger pretty-boy farmer had decided to stay as well. Trey’d agreed to let him work as a prostitute of all things, and clarified after asking that this guy was actually bisexual.
At the very least, Trey was interested to see how much money the dude would make for him in the long run… though the thought had never even crossed his mind to offer the men that kind of position before the man had proposed it himself.
They’d all been guaranteed that they wouldn’t be abused, they’d be fed, they’d be clothed, they’d get a portion of any money they made, they could decline any customer if they didn’t want to have sex with that particular client, and they’d be taken care of. They’d also been guaranteed that they could leave at any point, but if they went – that was it, and there was no coming back. The only exception to that one was Telipe, and she was made aware of the fact that her soul would need a contract to survive before she made the pact.
The result was better than he’d hoped for.
Trey patted the blonde demihuman on the head, letting his hand rest there and beginning to grip harder as Telipe winced. “Just stay still for a moment.”
It only took a minute to enslave her mind. Just like the others, she was registered as his thrall amidst pained screams as infernal magics ripped her soul apart and reorganized it. Letting go of the enchanter he nodded in acknowledgement and satisfaction. Even if she was a low-level enchanter, she’d still be able to cooperate with Izumi to upgrade her equipment - all an enchanter needed was someone to channel their magic through her. Trey, Atharost, Napoleon and others all had magics at their command that they could cycle through this woman to their benefit… or at least that’s what Trey hoped.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Simplified Status Page
Name: Telipe
Race: Demihuman Thrall
Class: Enchanter
Level: 3
HP: 80/80
MP: 124/124
SP: 110/110
DP: 1/1
Learned Ascended Enchanting Options
* Reinforce Enchantment
* Create Additional Item Enchantment Slot
Skills: Enchanting^ (lvl. 12), Cooking^ (lvl. 11)
Traits: Manipulative, Opportunist, Trey Bon’s Minion
Magical Attributes: Enchanting
Opinion of you: Scared
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“So just to clarify Telipe, tell me how your enchanting works.” Trey slid to the floor next to her and put his arms around his knees while looking to the floor deep in thought.
She shuddered, trying to recover from the pain and clutched her forehead where the pentagram was now scarred into her skin. Sniffling and wiping away a tear, she sat up and leaned against the crate as her blue eyes locked onto his. “How it works?”
“I’m an Earthborn.” Trey clarified grimly, waving her on to hurry up the explanation. “I don’t know anything about it other than what I’ve learned in passing. Actually, just tell me if I’ve got it right, and if not you can explain… If I wanted to make an enchanted weapon - I’d take said weapon, visit you, and channel the spell I wanted imbued through you. You guide it and shape it appropriately. Right?”
Telipe nervously nodded. “There is more though…”
Trey snapped back at her impatiently. “Then tell me.”
She hastily obliged. “Items can only hold certain amounts of enchantment based on how large they are or how high quality they are. Different materials and mass have a lot to do with it… A copper ring will conduct less enchantment than a gold ring. A helmet will usually hold less enchantment than a breastplate… but only if they’re made of the same material. If the breastplate is made of poorer quality materials, then the helmet could hold more… If you look at my status page, one of my ascended enchantment buffs is the ability to create an additional item slot for enchanting. This gives me more room to work if I need it…”
“And why are you at such a low level? Considering you’re probably about my age and chose this as your profession, don’t you think you should be higher?”
Trey’s accusation caused Telipe’s face to quickly flush a bright red, though he wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment or anger. She held it together though and briefly explained why. “I was a nobleman’s daughter… married off to a good family. I… I was supposed to live a simple well-off life… until financial ruin destroyed my family. My husband got involved with the wrong people and was killed after a bad gambling arrangement, and I was widowed… so I took up the profession a year ago as a side job that I only did occasionally.”
Trey cocked his head and grinned. Using both hands to pinch her cheeks, he pooched her lips for her and moved them around. “Well welcome to the club! I’m sure you and I will become very acquainted with one another, but you’ll be helping out Izumi a lot as well. I’ll introduce you later. I hope you can live up to my expectations.”
The demihuyman paled, only causing him to laugh more before getting up. “I’m just saying try your best to satisfy me with your work ethic! Now… on to those evolutions!”
None of them had noticed the dark-skinned man lurking in the corner yet, the professional thief they’d set free from the cage at the slave market. He’d already acquired some new clothes, a pair of boots, a decent amount of money, and a small dagger at his hip. He was sure they’d forgotten all about him, and was casually eyeing them down and quietly scarfing down some bread. He wasn’t about to spoil the fun just yet though, and was thoroughly interested in seeing how these ‘evolutions’ would pan out.