With Cedez at his side, Dave strode purposefully toward the Bondsmen Guild. As they approached the imposing white building adorned in Roman style columns, Dave couldn't help but feel a shiver of anticipation.

Upon crossing the threshold, the pair were immediately greeted by the sight of bondsman Zippermin. The dark elf's gaze locked onto Dave with the unerring precision of a guided missile, and he made a beeline for the duo.

"Nomish Zippermin!" Cedez greeted him warmly, her smile a radiant beacon that threatened to ensnare the bondsman in a web of her charm. "How are the kids? How's Antaria?"

"Lady Astra," Zippermin replied, his countenance darkening like the sky before a storm, the false smile sliding off his face like a discarded mask. "Using charisma magic to obtain discounts in our Guild is grounds for immediate eviction."

Dave's brow furrowed in puzzlement as he wondered how the man seemed to be resisting Cedez's potent allure. His eyes soon spotted a flickering artifact nestled against Zippermin's neck.

"You're no fun, Nomish," Cedez sighed, her disappointment evident in the lilting cadence of her voice. "Just take my client and me to the thirteen sick elkin, please."

With a curt nod, Zippermin acquiesced and led them through the labyrinthine corridors of the Bondsmen Guild.

Dave wondered how Cedez would get a good deal out of the bondsman without resorting to the power of her charm.

At last, they arrived at the windowless, polished stone room, its cold and sterile atmosphere greeting them, a clear barrier separating them from the thirteen sick slaves.

"As I've told your client..." Zippermin drawled, his voice a languid river of condescension that threatened to engulf them in its disdainful current.

"Lord Dave," Cedez interjected, her tone firm as she corrected the bondsman.

"As I've told Lord Dave," the dark elf acquiesced, his mustache twitching with a hint of irritation. "The price of this group is one thousand silver."

"Zero," Cedez countered, her voice a steel-edged blade that cut through the tension in the room. "The price for these is zero."

"What?" The man balked, his eyes widening in disbelief at her audacity.

"They're already dead, Nomish," Cedez said, her voice a somber elegy that seemed to echo the finality of her statement.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

"Our Guild's healer..." Zippermin began, his voice a defensive snarl that bristled with indignation.

"Is a liar," the dark vixen interjected, her words a swift and merciless beheading of the truth. "Healer Ombrass lied to you. He was too grossed out by the horn-spiders to check their pulse weekly. They might have been somewhat alive when they crossed into Shandria, but these thirteen teens died a few weeks ago in your care. By the Law of her Divine Shadow, they are to be burned, and your Guild is to be fined for peddling necromantic constructs. You want a thousand silver for these? That's a fine of one hundred thousand silver!"

"Impossible," the dark elf hissed, his eyes narrowing into venomous slits that seemed to seep denial and outrage.

"Look, idiot," Cedez said, her voice dripping with contempt. "Feel free to summon another healer if you trust them enough not to report your ass for necromancy."

Zippermin's eye twitched, a fissure of doubt beginning to crack his once-impenetrable facade.

"Hey Svenn," Cedez called, waving her hand at the thirteen elkin behind the magical barrier. In a chilling display of synchronicity, thirteen heads snapped toward her all at once, their bodies moving in perfect unison like a macabre marionette show.

"See? It's a necromantic construct," Cedez purred, her voice a dark symphony that underscored the gravity of their situation. "Nobody alive moves like that."

Zippermin's shoulders sagged, and he hissed a swear.

"Lord Dave is a highborn from out of town," Cedez added, casting a reverent look at Dave's face as if to emphasize the importance of his lineage. "He is currently leasing an estate from Lord Nelvash to house an armory and weapons testing facility. He would be willing to take these walking corpses off your hands to use as target practice in an enclosed range for... a nominal price of one silver."

"A silver?! I've already paid the healer more than that to examine them..." The dark elf gritted his teeth, his frustration simmering.

"I am a rather busy man," Dave chimed in, nodding sagely. "If these vile creatures are to be burned, we might as well use them to test how well arrows and blows can pierce my armor designs and affect impacted organs."

"They've been eating food at my cost for over a month!" Zippermin sputtered, his indignation mounting like a tidal wave.

"Necromantic constructs can masquerade as living people for a while. Lord Dave cares not for your pitiful expenses of a few coppers," Cedez affirmed, her voice a steel-edged whip that lashed at Zippermin's crumbling defenses. "Feel free to get a refund from Healer Ombrass for his piss-poor secondary diagnosis. If you don't hand the dead over to us for proper disposal right now, I will report this matter to the city watch."

The threat hung in the air between them like a metaphorical guillotine, its blade poised to sever the last vestiges of resistance that still clung to Zippermin's shattered pride.

"You can have a thousand problems explaining yourself to the watchmen or sign the offered contract and make this morbid issue disappear from your hands right now," Cedez said, her voice a velvet-gloved ultimatum that left no room for misinterpretation.

With a flourish, she unrolled a sale contract parchment, its surface adorned with intricate script and binding clauses, and presented it to the beleaguered bondsman.