Part XV: Dark Markets

There was little we could do about this many malae.

One, two, maybe even up to a dozen we could handle, given some fire. But this many? We’d die before we really made a dent in their number. We had no choice but to leave the malae where they were, but that didn’t mean we were happy about it—or were about to leave them unprotected.

‘You and your people,’ I said to the old tiefling who’d shown us to the canyon. ‘Do you think you can watch over this place? Stop any travellers from stumbling upon the malae?’

The old man looked back at me with his vibrant red eyes, fear in them.

‘You don’t have to get close. And I don’t think the malae are going anywhere; they’re fenced in well. We just don’t want—’

The tiefling shook his head. ‘It’s not that. It’s… sooner or later, the traders will return. Black market merchants. They are powerful people—individually, but even more so as a whole. I can’t stand in their way; I won’t do that to my family.’

I glanced to Lore, who nodded; he knew these parts, and if he agreed with what the man was saying, then that was good enough for me. ‘OK. Stay out of the traders’ ways, but everyone else…’

‘I will keep them away.’

‘Thank you,’ I said.

This was a far from perfect plan; without anyone protecting the malae, then someone would come along for them eventually. They’d trade them away, and the corruption would spread. But equally, we couldn’t stay here. Maybe we would kill off a few black marketeers, but more would keep coming. We wouldn’t address the root problem.

We had to go elsewhere; we had to find the Player behind this trading, and we had to find the person responsible for breeding the malae—presumably to meet Yusef’s demand.

There was a question about just where we would go next, as we had no idea where these malae had really come from. But this was swiftly answered with Corminar spotted an old, rusting knife buried in the sand by the canyon. Treating it as a clue, he handed it around for us each to look at, but only Lore—who knew these parts well—was able to provide additional context.

‘This mark here,’ he said, pointing to a spot on the blade, near the base. ‘It’s a touchmark—the mark of a specific blacksmith. And this one, I know.’

‘You know touchmarks by heart?’ Ama asked, eyebrow raised.

‘Just this one,’ the barbarian said. ‘It’s famous. Famous all around the northern Armada. It belongs to a blacksmith in Coldharbour, where I’m from. I’d know that symbol anywhere—even the guards used to carry his weapons, and I saw no shortage of their swords as a kid.’

I made a note to ask Lore about his supposedly criminal background later; for now, we had a job to do. I clapped the barbarian around the shoulder. ‘Sounds like you’re going home, then.’

Lore smiled.

* * *

Two days later, the sprawling city of Coldharbour stretched before us. Though it was still very much a desert city, greenery had returned over the past few hours of walking. Palm trees stood over the sides of the road, obviously tended to and placed strategically to make the entrance to the town more appealing—though also a sign that there was plentiful enough water for this to be possible.

And of course there was, what with Coldharbour being a coastal city. The bay known as the Coldwater stretched as far as the eye could see behind the city. It was the same body of water I’d seen from the Tundras a few times over the years, though here the sea was a vibrant blue-green, and looked warm enough that its name didn’t really fit.

The city itself shared some of the traits I’d come to expect of cities—it had the familiar tall walls of a central old town, with the city having grown far beyond them in the years since its founding. The buildings were a pale yellow-white, matching the local rock, though there were patches of bright colour as large fabrics created shade on the many rooftops. Tall spires—ancient monuments to the Architects—shot forth from the city skyline here and there, stripes of dazzling gold reflecting the high, bright sun.

Lore sighed when Coldharbour had first come into view, a smile on his face. ‘It’s been a long time,’ he said, though halfway through that sentence the joyful tones seemed to waver, just for a moment.

We proceeded down the palm tree-shaded road into the sprawling outer city, and the noise seemed to hit us like a wave. This was a city full of life, and unapologetically so—people shouted across the rooftops, people cried out about the wares they were selling, and there was the general racket of people… enjoying themselves? It was very different to what we’d seen in the Goldmarch over the past few weeks, what with the soldiers of the new Golden Empire cracking down on pretty much anything that brought people joy in the name of keeping them in line.

‘Don’t suppose you remember where the blacksmith—’ I started to ask Lore, only to turn to my side to find him gone. ‘Lore?’

Carle caught my eye and nodded towards a nearby market stall—one that served steaming buns of some variety I’d never seen before. Currently handing over some coin, with three buns cradled in his left arm, was Lore.

I sighed and approached, and was at his side at the same moment that he finished the interaction and turned around.

‘...What?’ he asked, presumably in response to the unimpressed glare I was giving him. He picked up one of the buns from his arm. ‘You want one?’

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‘Where’s the blacksmith?’ I asked.

‘Oh. Right. Yeah.’ Lore took a moment to look around, getting his bearings. ‘You know, it’s been a while since I was here, but… I think it’s… this way?’

And so that way we went. I should have known, looking back, that Lore’s memory of the place was a little iffy, considering he phrased that last as a question rather than a sentence. By the time he actually led us to the blacksmith, it was almost an hour later and I couldn’t help but think we weren’t more than ten minutes away from where we’d started.

The blacksmith itself was a big operation.

They seemed to have a whole building to themselves—and it wasn’t some tiny shop either, it was four storeys tall and each floor was about the size of a tavern. Most of the ground floor was dedicated to customer service—blacksmiths, still covered in soot from the forges, took client orders down and passed the notes back to the dozens of other workers behind them. The rest of the ground floor was dedicated to the forging itself, it seemed—though I could see leather being passed up for pommels and I could hear the sound of grindstones being used for sharpening blades.

And there was a queue. A big queue. I wasn’t sure, looking back, I’d ever seen a queue that size before—and I hoped never to again. We left the Trio in the shade across the road, and Corminar, Lore and I joined the queue at the back, the big man peering over the heads and counting how many were still ahead of us. It wasn’t massively thrilling to hear that number be so large.

But it moved quickly, at least; they had this operation running as efficiently as possible, and it was maybe twenty minutes before we reached the front—and a tiefling blacksmith with her hair tied up in a headscarf.

‘Your order?’ she shouted over the noise, skipping the pleasantries.

‘Information, actually,’ I said, placing the rusty dagger down on the desk in front of her. ‘We wanted to know who you made this for.’

‘This line’s for orders only,’ she said, without looking up.

‘Is there an information queue, then?’ I asked.

‘No.’ With a sigh, she looked up, and took a look at the discarded blade. ‘You haven’t looked after this much, have you?’

‘It’s not mine. Like I said, we’re just looking for who you made it for. You have records?’

‘Yep,’ she said, tapping her skull. ‘Up in here. Doesn’t mean I’m telling you, though.’

‘We just want to return it,’ I lied.

‘You ever heard of blacksmith-client confidentiality?’ she asked.

‘No,’ I replied, and this time I was telling the complete truth.

‘Well, like I say: can’t tell you.’

I sighed, then turned to my two friends, huddling us in close together. ‘I think we need a bribe,’ I whispered to them, both of whom nodded. We turned back to the smith and both Corminar and Lore slid something across the table to her—a pile of coin and a steamed bun, respectively.

The smith looked from the coins, to the bun, and to Lore. I was just about to interrupt and apologise for my friend when she smiled at him, picked up the bun and began to eat it—completely ignoring the coins.

Corminar and I shared a look, then shrugged.

‘One of Yusef’s lot,’ she said through mouthfuls of pastry. ‘Can’t remember who precisely, but one of his team. That’s all I can tell you.’

Lore smiled, winked at the smith, and then turned away—to be faced with Corminar and I’s suspicious faces.

‘A bun?’ I asked. ‘And that worked?’

‘People like food round here.’

‘Is that where you get it from?’

I shook my head, then led Lore and Corminar back to the Trio.

‘You get what you need?’ Raelas asked.

I nodded. ‘We’re on the right track—the blade was made for one of Yusef’s team. That’s evidence enough for me; he isn’t just trading the malae, he’s involved in their breeding, too.’

The Trio were silent for a moment, before one of them asked the obvious question.

‘So what is next?’ Carle asked.

‘Now, we go find him.’

"Styk"

Level 18 Bladespinner

Base Stats:

Vitality — 50

Intelligence — 198

Dexterity — 112

Strength — 77

Wisdom — 70

Charisma — 43

Skills:

Worldbending — Level 53

Knifework — Level 40

Stealth — Level 22

Identification — Level 18

Needlework — Level 16

Abilities:

Stab III — Put your weight behind your wielded blade and force the tip through tougher hides and armour. Damage scales on [STR], increased by an additional 50%.

Execution III — Attack a target while undetected for +300% damage.

Closed Reach — Bend reality to narrow the gap between blade and target by up to 8 inches. Uses mana.

Mana-Fuelled — Passive. Optionally, use mana in place of stamina to activate Knifework abilities.

Knifestorm — Lash out at all surrounding enemies in a tornado of blades, using either one or two daggers. All enemies with arm’s reach receive physical damage worth weapon’s base damage and additional damage scaling on [STR].

Enhanced Portals — Create a portal to another location within current range of sight or within a thirty yard radius. Support up to two pairs of portals at once. Uses mana to open portals only.

Portal Slice — Passive. Portals can now be spawned within non-sentient objects. Doing so slices through all objects that are not reinforced by magic.

Tamed Portals — Passive. Increased efficiency of portal magicks means that your portal glow is reduced by 50%, making them less likely to be detected by enemies.

Ash Husk — Convert your flesh to ash, strengthening it against flame for ten minutes. Gain 50% resistance to fire attacks.

Shrill Perimeter — Create a perimeter wall of 20 foot radius, invisible to all but those adept in magicks. If an enemy crosses this perimeter, this spell releases the shriek of a banshee.

Warped Shield — Passive. If an enemy strikes you with a low-level melee weapon, Warp Shield automatically activates to open a portal that deflects this attack. You must not have any portals currently active. Uses mana on activation.

Pocket Worlds — Open and access pocket dimensions. Storage capacity of summoned pocket worlds scales with [INT] of creator.

Silence III — Create a bubble of 20 yard radius in which sound is eradicated. Uses mana to cast, zero mana to maintain. You may only have one bubble active at any one time.

Stealth Attack III — Passive. 200% boost to damage when unnoticed by enemy.

In Plain Sight — When activated, you have a heightened abilitiy to hide in plain sight, and are able to spot opportunities to break from combat at a higher rate. Scales on [WIS].

Stitch — Create a basic stitch in common fabrics. Ability scales on [CHA].

Improved Cloth Armour — Craft a cloth armour of significantly higher quality, dependent on materials, time and skill level.

Active Effects:

Legacy of Sisyphus:

XP gain increased by +1,400%