"Hey, Claire!" Trader shouted, even though they were a few steps apart.
"Cynthia here," she dragged the elf in question forward, "is the best damn lay in the city. Since there's a good chance that tomorrow you'll make me kill her, this is your last chance to have your way with her. So, she and I will be waiting for you in room seventeen. Come by in fifteen, alright? Alright."
Before lady Pendant had time to get offended by either the lack of proper title or the outrageous proposition, Trader dragged Cynthia away and bolted to the aforementioned room.
The ball was an overnight event, so the guests were provided sleeping accommodations. It was possible because the city hall was really more of a hotel that incidentally housed the mayor's office. Since Tiamarr herself made all the decisions on the city's budget and everything else, and so "mayor" was all but officially a meaningless title, nobody complained. Least of all the mayor.
While this maneuver looked like Trader was crazy, that was part of the plan. She had caused such a scene no one in their right mind would think Trader competent or conniving. They'd think her a hedonistic idiot. However, Trader had delivered a subtext with her performance, signaling to Pendant "I want to speak privately. You don't have to worry about me killing you, because everyone knows where we will be."
If she wasn't clever enough to pick up on the hints, then that meant she wouldn't be much trouble in a fight anyway.
There was a knock on the door. Trader swung it open, and of course, lady Pendant was there.
"I knew you'd come!" She squealed excitedly. "I mean, who can resist that ass!" She pointed to Cynthia, who was laying in the bed, on her stomach, naked. She wiggled her behind invitingly.
"Come on, slap it! I know you wanna!" The symbiote encouraged.
Claire walked inside and closed the door behind her. A flash of power surged, as silencing enchantments activated. Indeed, the rooms were built to be private.
"What in the world is this about?" The noble demanded.
"Oh…" Trader pouted. "I was really hoping this would work. Though I guess no matter how great someone's ass is, you still would want them dead if they caught you blaspheming in your basement."
The dragon's whole body tensed. "Then you understand, no? I can't let her go telling, now, can I? For that matter, I need to get rid of you, too." She took a step forward, her intent clear as day.
"Obviously. But you failed to consider one crucial detail, dear Claire. You see, no one in this room would ever dream of snitching on you."
Pendant crossed her arms, a scowl on her face. "And how exactly can you guarantee that? Or that you haven't already, and I should take you with me?"
"Oh, Claire-"
"Don't call me that."
"This beautiful, voluptuous woman on this bed is not the only thing I'd like you and I to share." Trader raised a clawed finger and slowly opened a vein on her arm. Blood flowed out like a serpent, before taking the shape of a hand bending its fingers in a beckoning gesture. It then promptly returned to her body.
Claire raised her eyebrows. "I'm pleased to say, I have underestimated you, young miss Fleshforger. Or would you prefer Trader?"
The symbiote jumped into the bed, and slapped Cynthia's asscheek. "Why don't you come here and let's discuss things like where I'm from?"
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"...And since you could combine that with your sympathism, the possi-" Claire yelped. "Fuck, you weren't kidding, she's good."
The three women were laying in the bed. While Lady Pendant was against having sex with someone who just an hour before she had considered an enemy, Cynthia was also extremely skilled with less intimate matters of flesh, and as such the dragon was laying on her stomach, receiving a deep-tissue massage.
"We aim to please. I hope you aren't misunderstanding this as an attempt to lower your guard. Well, it is in a way, but that's just because you're just so uptight!" Trader assured her. "We will discuss our partnership again in the morning, to make sure you are on board even without such… incentives."
The healer locked eyes with the noble.
"Now, I've been really curious about it since basically day one. What's the deal with dragons' awakening and blood magic? I can understand keeping it from the lowborn, even if I don't condone it, but with the restrictions this tight, you're all shooting yourselves in the foot. You know this better than I do."
Confusion pierced through the haze of bliss, and Claire rose on her elbows, causing Cynthia to stop the massage.
"I've started dabbling in the vampiric arts a good three decades after I've ascended. What made you think that everyone secretly does it?"
"Well, for starters, I've taken blood samples from a few different people with draconic ancestry, and they had blood magic residue, in the same way that affinities manifest. Then, the bloodline test showed that I'm of a third generation, but that's literally impossible."
"Are you sure? A lot of funds and research went into making sure those devices can't be cheated." Lady Pendant lied back down, and the elf resumed her work.
"My species is forsaken. Do you know what that means?"
"I've read-" she gasped as Cynthia reached a particularly sensitive spot. "- I've read that sometimes when the firmament is damaged badly enough, the rift literally gets a mind of its own, and the resulting creature fills the gap in reality. So, you're like the universe's living scar tissue?"
"Basically. But because we just come into existence like that, the only way for a parasite to be born naturally, is if two of us come together. Otherwise the child always inherits the species of the other parent. So, I am either born from the void, and have no ancestors, or all of them are parasites too. There is no possibility any of my great-great-grandparents were dragons. And a very slim one they existed to begin with."
"Fuck." Claire sighed. It wasn't clear if it was a reaction to the information, or the elf's ministrations. "This is getting more and more interesting. I will have to arrange a meeting with you and my sisters. If we can study the noble bloodline, there's a chance we could ensure awakening."
"How does one awaken, anyway?" Trader asked.
Lady Pendant suddenly appeared very clear headed. She eyed the alien with suspicion. "What would you need this information for? We've already established you can't become a dragon."
"True, but it doesn't mean I don't plan on apotheosis anyway. The details of becoming a true dragon could help immensely in developing an alternate means to acquire a Shell." Once more, it wasn't quite lying. She just omitted the other uses she would have.
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Claire narrowed her eyes. She knew Trader wasn't being fully transparent.
"Maybe I'll tell you when our partnership bears more fruit. This power is not something to be shared lightly."
Trader shrugged. "Very well. I've learned plenty tonight regardless. I think the business portion of our meeting can be considered over, then. Now, from what I've seen, you really are quite stiff. Cynthia, move over. This affair needs two pairs of hands."
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Trader had no illusions about the nature of their partnership. Claire was a woman primarily interested in gaining an edge through forbidden knowledge, and she would give only as much as was necessary to gain more. At least it was unlikely that the noble would betray the healer, as they were now implicitly blackmailing each other.
The two women stood face to face in the middle of the ball room, surrounded in a wide circle by the other nobles. Beside them stood Lady Tiamarr.
"Before the duel commences, would either of you like to propose a change of stakes?" The duchess asked.
Technically speaking, there was no cancelling a duel. Once the vows have been made, the two were legally required to beat eachother up. However, they could alter the stakes of the fight to the point it became inconsequential.
"Yes. Should I win, I demand young miss Fleshforger's… friendship." Lady Pendant stated.
"Funny. I wanted to say the same thing!" Trader exclaimed, before clearing her throat. "Should I win, I demand Lady Pendant's friendship."
Everyone understood what was going on now. Or they thought they did, anyway. The impression was that after the declaration, the two women had resolved their differences after a night of passion, and decided to become lovers instead of enemies. While it wasn't fully inaccurate, it wasn't the whole truth, either.
"Your vows have been heard. On the count of-"
"Oh, Just one more thing!" Trader interrupted. "As the challenged, it is my right to choose the method of the duel. Therefore, I request pankration."
A murmur went through the crowd of nobles that have gathered to observe the duel. It was implied that most duels were done in the form of a traditional spell-slinging bout. Some were impressed, some where mocking.
Tiamarr raised her eyebrow, but nodded. "It has been some time since pankration was requested in this court. As the judge and witness, it is my duty to inform all present of the rules, so everyone can be sure the duel is fair. Pankration is a competition of pure bodily prowess. No equipment may be used. The combatants will use nothing but their bare bodies. Magic is prohibited. Even drawing mana will be considered as having surrendered. I will watch closely. Gouging of the eyes and genital mutilation is forbidden. Biting is allowed, but you may not bite off a body part. Do the contestants understand these rules?"
Both women nodded.
"Very well. Disrobe yourselves and assume positions."
Trader had first learned of pankration a week earlier, when she was studying court etiquette. It was a remnant from the republic of Lathengar, the largest unified orcish society known to history. This form of duel was partially to thank for it. The stubbornness of orcs meant that large settlements would frequently split because of political differences, and since they all knew how steadfast orcs were in their beliefs, whatever they may be, this method of settling differences was devised.
Of course, now that the Drexian Empire has conquered them, it remained little more than a seldom relevant legal oddity.
It suited the symbiote's purposes, though. She would never win a normal fight against a dragon. Claire was in every way stronger than Trader in ways of magic. But if magic was outlawed? She wasn't even allowed to assume her draconic form.
And while there was no stakes anymore, Trader still wanted to make an impression on the crowd, and winning her first duel, with the first daughter of a baron no less, would certainly accomplish that.
They stood now, naked as the night before, staring each other down. The duchess had cast a spell to allow her to perceive mana in their bodies, as have many others. All magic had to go through the body to enter the physical world, so if one of them tried to cheat, it would be caught immediately.
"On the count of three. One!"
Trader made sure every muscle group of hers was at peak condition.
"Two!"
Trader bent her knees to dash forward as soon as possible. Claire rolled her neck and cracked her knuckles.
"Three!"
The two naked women bolted at eachother.
Trader opened with a swipe of her claws on Claire's left shoulder. The dragon's scales weren't just for show, though, and the alien's attack left no mark. The noble retaliated with a punch to her gut. While Trader had no ribcage, she had designed her torso to be shock absorbent, so she suffered roughly the same damage as if a normal person would.
That is to say, she went flying. Even in her base form, a dragon's might was not to be underestimated.
While she caught herself, Trader was thinking of a way to tackle this. Her claws were useless against the natural armor of her foe, and without a host, her strength was diminished, so punches wouldn't be very effective.
Trader tried to knee Claire in the stomach, but before it connected she got an elbow to her head. She was once again thankful to her past self for placing her brain elsewhere. She stumbled back, feigning a concussion, and threw a punch at the dragon's left breast.
Her chest was unarmored, and it wasn't considered hitting genitals, despite, in lady Pendant's case, being nearly as sensitive. The noble screamed, and opened her jaw further than it should have been possible. Dragons retained some measure of shape-changing even in their natural state, it seemed.
Sharp teeth narrowly missed Trader's arm, and she responded in kind. Her jaw wasn't hinged to begin with, so her bite had further reach, almost wrapping around the dragon's neck. She could just barely sink her fangs in between the green scales.
But while Claire has been grappled, Trader's movements were also restricted by this maneuver, so the noble began clawing at the symbiote's limbs.
The duel had quickly devolved into a mess of biting, scratching, groaning and growling. Neither woman relented, since Claire was receiving minimal damage, and Trader had turned off her pain receptors at some point. Since the rules stated the duel ended only when one side had given up or lost consciousness, there was no clear resolution in sight.
"Enough of this barbarism!" Someone shouted about fifteen minutes in.
"What are you talking about? This is the most entertaining thing that has happened in this city since the last revolt!" Another voice disagreed.
About thirty minutes in, Trader suddenly remembered she wasn't an animal, but a fully sapient, thinking person. Easy to forget when you are in a primal scuffle. But since she was once again thinking, she could approach this strategically, maybe even end it.
The healer had gotten to know the other woman's body very intimately throughout the night. Trader had learned of several weak spots that sent shivers down Claire's spine whenever they were stimulated, even in a fully non-sexual context.
While still as wild as before, Trader's flailing was now focused on hitting those key locations.
Between the shoulder blades. A finger's width below the belly button. The left toe. The middle of the right clavicle.
Over and over, until eventually, Trader was pressing them like she was playing an instrument. Claire was slowly losing control of her body, spasming this way and that as her vulnerabilities were exploited. It was as if she was getting her very brain tickled. Soon, every single sensation was elevated.
Which is when Trader broke her finger.
The scream shook the whole room as the dragon writhe in pain.
"I YIELD!" Claire shouted.
"Finally." A man grumbled. He had voiced the thoughts of most of the gathered. While the idea of two beautiful women wrestling naked was enticing in concept, the screams and blood that filled the area made the scene wholly unappealing. The scant few who did find the affair arousing knew better than to admit that.
"Young miss Trader Fleshforger has won the duel!" The duchess announced.
Immediately, Trader crafted a healing spell and applied it to Claire. She realigned the finger she just maimed and fixed it. While the symbiote was not without her own injuries, she had much better control of her body, and was under no threat of death. Slowly, over the course of ten minutes, the two were somewhat back in shape, both aided by some form of heightened regeneration.
Trader originally intended to come across as a reserved, curious newcomer, so people wouldn't pay that much attention to her yet. On the way, the plan has changed to appearing as a naive, promiscuous fool, so people would underestimate her.
After this display, about half of the local nobility had her pegged as "fucking insane."
She didn't consider the event a disaster, though. She had gained an ally, however unsteady that alliance may be, made a positive impression on the duchess, and people would now think twice, if not thrice, before challenging her.
Additionally, multiple people approached her with business after witnessing how quickly she'd fixed lady Pendant's injuries.
"All in all, I'd say this was quite a wonderful disaster." Trader said after summarising the events to Karrel.