Terra allowed her tubby form to be toted to a nearby pub where the guards bought her a few scraps of meat, and a heartier helping of sympathy for having been with the pompous Burnt. Dom and I followed at a safe distance and managed to eavesdrop of the conversation they shared over a meal and an ale.

Perception +1

Sneak +2

Exp +20 (5,290/788,209)

“Hell of a last call for the night,” the first guard, who we’d learned was named Mack.

“No kidding,” the second guard, Tommy, fed another scrap to Terra, who sat beside him on the bench. “I thought he was going to stomp himself into the floor and disappear in a fit!”

“He’s one of those UNLV magicians,” Mack admitted to knowing. “You’d think magicians would know better considering they’re always insisting on the rules.”

“You’d think they were the only ones who knew the rules,” Tommy agreed.

“They own magic,” Mack shrugged, letting Terra nudge and rub against his arm. “What can we do about it?”

I gave Dom a look over our ales and moved to sit near enough to the guards to respectively overhear their conversation. The stew wasn’t up to my standards and, considering that it was a pretty high-class pub, that was a shame. It was only one step up from gnoblin stew. The establishment was relatively clean and I could see Burnt being comfortable at one of the classy tables, though he’d probably opted for one of those private tables than allow himself to sit next to other customers at the long tables and benches in the center of the room. A bard strummed something unintrusive in a corner. It wasn’t my kind of place, but it had promise.

I slipped away to the kitchen to talk to the cook. By the time I was done bartering, I had made back one third of the gems I’d spent that day at the wharf on ingredients. My second bowl of stew was much better than the first, which was good because I’d also spent the last of my gems supply and half of Dom’s on buying the establishment. Between this pub, the bakery, and a butcher I’d taken a liking to, I now owned a nice chain of places that would feed each other.

Bartering +3

Exp +30 (5,320/788,209)

Didn’t I tell you? This morning at the bakery where we’d stuffed our faces with cinnamon rolls, I’d bought the place with a good chunk of Dom’s gem stash. Sorry. I must have forgotten to mention it in my excitement of the wedding and all. The butcher? I’d sold them so much gnoblin and werewolf meat that it had practically paid for itself. All I needed now was a grocer. I had already made a deal with Beryle back home to sell the farm products exclusively to me. I had two wagons’ worth of produce, but I hadn’t found a grocer I liked yet.

I’d had three years to plot out these supply lines last time. I’d just planned ahead this time. What? I didn’t like the coaches. Going back and forth a second time seemed like a waste and torture that I could circumvent with a little planning. I didn’t just need to take over the Underground in the Capital, and it wasn’t just that we needed a way to consistently launder Underground spoils. I had to be a merchant of good standing so that we could solidify our hold of the Capital. Once I’d bought the bakery, we were automatically assigned a merchant account. Upon my fourth business, I’d be granted landowner status.

Intelligence +2

There were rules. I liked studying rules. I’d spent many a long night studying Capital law. It was a required course at UNLV. They’d thought to teach me my place by drumming the law of land into me. They’d taught me my place all right. They’d taught me exactly how to claim my place as a noble. The law didn’t favor nobility based on birth. Even though the king was the exception, the current one was fair and honorable, enforcing the laws that forced nobles to earn their positions.

The UNLV professors and administration were automatically minor nobles due to a contract between the crown and UNLV that granted the crown the right to use UNLV to defend the kingdom in case of war. The churches were granted a similar contract. High priests were their own form of nobles. Merchants and the Underground were loose partners in that the Merchant’s Guild had accepted the Underground as a piece of itself, wrapping it into their power base just to be able to compete with UNLV and the church. Nobility could be bought through the Merchant guild, who then had an agreement with whatever the current leader of the Thieves’ and Assassins’ Guild to share that power.

It was an interesting checks and balance system. Magicians getting uppity? The Underground would sell black market magic supplies and take a bite out of their bottom line until they fell back in line. Church trying to take over? The Underground would be commissioned to raid resurrection vaults, crippling the hold the church had over nobles who could afford to contract the services that kept the church from being too broke to be powerful.

As to who kept the Merchant Guild, and therefore the Underground, in check? That would be the king, who was the owner of all land and therefore the only one who could grant a business license or plot of land for that business. The king used the Merchant Guild to act as mommy to the constantly squabbling brothers of church and magic. UNLV treated the church like it was childishly holding to unscientific principles and the church responded by scoffing at ungodly magic as children playing with fire. The king solved the problem by making the church keep resurrection stones for UNLV staff and making UNLV pay a hefty sum for the service.

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Intelligence +2

I walked out of the kitchen with a bowl of good stew, spoon halfway to my mouth as I noticed that my husband had started a conversation with the guards. I wasn’t alarmed, per se, but curiosity did have me crossing the pub to stand inconspicuously at his shoulder. Dom wasn’t normally a social person and I’d thought he’d kick back and listen rather than engage.

“I’m just saying that if it’s a familiar, it’ll disappear when his master calls it,” Dom was explaining, the cards in his hand and stack of coins in front of him a mere distraction from the conversation he was weaving.

“Poor thing,” Mack gave Terra a sympathetic pet and tossed a few coins into the kitty.

“Those magic people,” Tommy was hotter about the subject, throwing down his hand of cards in a fold. “They think they own everybody. This sweet cat is just another slave to that guy.”

“If I summon you right now, where would you appear?” I asked Terra silently, pretending to be more interested in my stew than the game or conversation.

“I can appear anywhere within five feet of you,” she answered, her head scanning her surroundings while appearing to lick at an itch on her back. “I can probably get under the table there and then blend into shadows, but not yet. Mack gives very good scritches.”

“I fold,” Dom threw down a hand containing two pair. It was a wonder what the new world had done for both our confidence levels. Dom’s shoulders were loose like he hadn’t a care in the world while he charmed these waking drones.

“Looks like it’s my night,” Mack grinned and took the pot, as Tommy gathered the cards for a new shuffle and deal.

I pulled the attention of a passing barmaid and declared, “A fresh set of mugs for our city guards here. On the house.”

Charm +1

“You own this place?” Mack gave me a suspicious look, but I just smiled. He was a cop and the nemesis engine liked to watch shows like CSI for inspiration.

“Yep,” I leaned against Dom to hide the fact that he grinned and shook his head. We didn’t have a lot of time to plot and share strategy, but he knew that I was working an angle.

“My wife, fellas,” Dom wrapped a possessive arm around my waist, and I leaned down to give him a kiss. It might have helped that leaning down showed a little cleavage, but that wasn’t my intent. Really.

Charm +2

“Ma’am,” Mack and Tommy dipped their heads while their eyes studied my face. I was flying on a bloody honeymoon high so they didn’t have a lot to read there in my face, but I could sense that their characters were becoming deeper and more aware as the program around us realized that they were becoming more significant characters in the story.

“New ownership,” I tilted my head at the bar. “I find it's beneficial to offer a few free meals and ales to our protectors. Consider yourselves comped.”

Bartering +2

Exp +20 (5,340/788,209)

Programming adjusted and things clicked into place. I was allowed to bribe people because I was a member of the Underground. The bribe was considered part of doing business, but that wasn’t why I did it. When a cop ate at your place, they tended to be more protective of it. More than that, the more I cozied up to the guards, the more they’d believe me over arrogant magicians.

Perception +1

Intelligence +2

“I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re going mad,” Dom suggested, sorting his new hand of cards.

“Who?” Mack asked, his mind adjusting to his new settings. I’d been an author in charge of the programming. Of course, I knew that close interaction with these guards would make them more aware.

“The magicians,” Dom explained, discarding two cards that Tommy replaced. “Just too full of themselves if you ask me.”

“That’s what I was saying,” Tommy agreed, doling a single card to Mack.

“You don’t have to go to their school to do magic,” I put in, and got a stare from Mack and Tommy. “They just want you to think that so they have a monopoly on it.”

“No way! Really?” Tommy almost didn’t trade out the three cards he wanted for his hand. Monopoly was a bad word in the Capital, at least to the little people without church or UNLV memberships. The church and UNLV were the Sneetches who fought over how many stars each of them were supposed to have to be in the popular group. I wasn’t an honor student because of a pretty face, folks. I studied. Maybe they should have been paying attention to what they’d been teaching me in those required classes.

“Nah,” I asserted, letting the barmaid set a few mugs around the table. “How would they be able to burn a person for illegal magic use if a regular person couldn’t pick it up themselves?”

“See?” Dom smacked the table lightly, tossing a coin into the pot. “Call. They just want to punish anyone not under their thumb.”

The guards had settled into the conversation and the card game, ignoring Terra for the moment, so I used the distraction to summon her. She faded away with a pathetic meow that almost had my face breaking to stay straight. Tommy nearly teared up at her disappearing Puss n Boots stare.

Will +2

“Poor thing,” Mack sent a sympathetic look at his partner.

“It’s not right,” Tommy muttered out, taking a good gulp of ale.

Dom just shook his head. I had to go back to the kitchen to keep from blowing our cover. I couldn’t keep it in.

Will -1

“She’s just too broken up by it,” I heard my husband explain my departure. “Her sister was burned for illegal magic use. Tragic. It wasn’t even true, really. All she could do was summon a familiar. The familiar died with her. Tragic.”

“Tragic,” the two guards echoed, and I spent some time whipping up a batch of hot wings to send out to the table. When had my husband become so charming? To other people? I’d always found him charming to me, but other people? He’d rather kill them than talk to them. I could only smile because I knew that this world, even with its horrific creator, was worth saving. There was no question that Dom and I would be living here when all was said and done, but didn’t others deserve a happy ending too?

Perception +1

Cooking +1

Exp +10 (5,350/788,209)

I’d already figured out how to break UNLV again. I’d already figured out how to defeat Fizzbarren. What I hadn’t figured out yet was how to offer this world to others. There had to be a morally ethical way to offer it to people who would bloom here, without stripping them of their individual right to live life how they chose. It was all a question of how to manipulate the mana in a way that it would sustain itself.

Intelligence +2

I mean, take you for example. You can’t tell me that you wouldn’t jump at a chance to dive into this kind of world. I’d take you in a second if I could. I know you’d make a great story under the right circumstances, and I’d do it for you, no problem. I’d make up a situation where you’d tackle something worth defeating, but it’s not just you, is it? How does one create a system that challenges people enough for a good story without taking people out of happy lives to relive trauma as Fizzbarren had done?

I let my mind settle into that next problem even as it wove the current drama into the result we needed. I’d figure it out. Hang in there.