Pricci Destrie sat at her ornate marble desk, delicately picking at the remains of her breakfast - a perfectly seared slice of Thundersnarg steak paired with roasted stripe-tubers. The meal, while exquisite, did little to alleviate the constant stress that came with managing Lord Burgundy's vast array of properties and often disobedient living assets.
As she dabbed at the corner of her mouth with a silk napkin, her personal Nuntix chimed. With a sigh, she tapped the sparkling Kitlix on her wrist accepting the call.
"Overseer Pricci speaking," she said, her voice crisp and professional.
"Pricci, it's Valen from the Huntsmen Guild," came the reply. "We've got an... unusual request that needs your attention."
Pricci's eyebrows rose slightly. Valen rarely contacted her directly unless it was a matter of some importance. "Go on," she prompted.
"There's a group here looking to sublease one of your charges. They're specifically requesting the dragoness blacksmith, Remicra."
“If they want something made by her, they should ask her themselves at the smithy,” Pricci replied.
“No. They want a sublease contract, not a metal sword.”
Pricci's lips thinned. Remicra was a valuable, long term investment, one she'd personally overseen the acquisition of years ago. "And who, pray tell, is making this request? Are they not aware that this slave is an immobile asset bound to the smithy, not available for rent?”
"The lease request comes from the Estate of Lord David," Valen said. "The young Lord and his posse are currently waiting here at the Guild to speak with you. They won't take no from me for an answer and wish to talk to someone higher up. That would be you.”
Pricci's mind raced. Lord David? She prided herself on knowing every noble of rank in Shandria, yet this name was unfamiliar. A new player on the board, perhaps? An outsider trying to make inroads into the city's political landscape? Why Remicra?
"I see," she replied, keeping her voice neutral. "And what do we know about this... Lord David?"
“Nothing at all, I’m afraid,” the Secretary replied. "His secretary claims they're new to Shandria, having recently gated here from... Illatius. They're offering a very odd contract for a short-term lease of Remicra's services."
“Smithing?”
“No, dungeon delving,” Valen replied.
“Dungeon delving? Remicra isn’t a freaking delver,” Pricci replied. “What is your opinion of this… Lord? Is he some kind of a loon or an idiot?”
“If I may be blunt,” Valen purred. “Ridiculously dashing. Intelligent. Pure human. Has a green Kitlix on him, somewhere around level forty maybe fifty. Has three Healers with him, a wind-aligned owl bodyguard and a fox secretary. I think that she’s his personal Charismancer. By her Shadow, Pricci, she’s a true master, genuine Illatius shit. I’m seriously drowning over here.”
“Really?”
“Yes, damn it,” Valen hissed. “I’m seriously melting into my chair. Just get your rock ass here ASAP. This could be big.”
“Fine, be there in a bit,” Pricci hung up and quickly finished her lunch.
The Overseer stood up, examining herself in the large wall mirror. Deciding that she could use a quick polish she reached into an alcove beside the mirror and pulled out her Abstergix. The Kitlix ran over her head and armor, quickly polishing everything to a shine.
With a quick call to her team’s Waymancer, she had a gate open and stepped into the Hall of Burgundy Hunters Guild.
She spotted the group Valen described right away. Three greens–two male, one female, a dark fox secretary and what was presumably the owlkin bodyguard. Their ginger-haired Lord dressed in pure white robes turned and Pricci froze.
A wave of pure Charisma washed over her like a fiery, intoxicating breeze. It was one of the strongest magical calling cards that she had experienced - a palpable aura of charm and authority. For a moment, she found herself struggling to maintain her usual composure, her carefully cultivated mask of cool professionalism threatening to slip.
Valen did warn her about this, but Pricci found herself entirely unprepared for just how potent it would be. She felt that she was just a teenager in love or a young acolyte standing in front of an idol of pure gold.
The man's presence was magnetic, drawing her in like a spiral despite her best efforts to remain detached. His piercing blue eyes met hers, and Pricci felt a jolt of electricity run through her. She had dealt with Highborn-employed Charismancers before, but this was on another level entirely. It was as if every fiber of her being was suddenly attuned to his presence, standing at attention.
With a herculean effort, Pricci managed to regain some semblance of control. She straightened her back, lifted her chin, and strode forward with as much dignity as she could muster. Yet even as she approached, she could feel her heart racing, her palms growing damp beneath her steel and leather gloves.
"Lord David, I presume?" she said, her voice squeaking ever so slightly. "I am Overseer Pricci Destrie, manager of Lord Burgundy's assets."
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The young Lord smiled, and Pricci felt her knees go weak.
Damn it, focus!
“Ah, Overseer Pricci,” the Highborn man spoke, his voice smooth and just as captivating as his smile. “I appreciate you taking the time to see me on such short notice. I understand that my request is rather unusual, but I believe it could be… mutually beneficial."
Pricci nodded, trying to focus on the business at hand. She sent an annoyed glare towards the dark foxkin Secretary who simply smiled back at her with far too much smugness. "Yes, I was informed that you have an... unusual request regarding one of our assets?”
“Correct. My Lord is interested in personally subleasing one of your Lord's assets - specifically, the dragoness blacksmith Remicra,” the fox said, blue gemstones sparkling all over her dark leather dress.
The bitch was trying to show off. Only a complete airhead would cover themselves head to toe with purified mana gems like that.
“For... dungeon delving?" Pricci asked, arching a gray eyebrow.
"Indeed," Lord David confirmed. "I’m planning to use her to clear the Whispering Depths to retrieve the Voidtree.”
“The Voidtree?” Pricci tried to focus her scattering thoughts. “I… don’t understand. Why a blacksmith? Remicra is a rather valuable and immobile asset, bound to the smithy. I can offer a team of highly professional delvers more befitting this particular enterprise.”
“No,” the Highborn shook his ginger head. “I want to lease this slave.”
“Why?”
Lord Dave explained with a solemn expression, "You see, Lady Pricci, I recently discovered that dragoness Remicra was responsible for the death of my four-times removed uncle from Shandria, Moch Einhelm. I want her to pay for killing my uncle, but in a way that's... productive."
Pricci frowned, distantly recalling that Remicra was a slave for life for the crime of murder of some Shadow officer from the Einhelm family. While she enjoyed breaking the stubbornly disobedient dragoness herself, she didn't want the smith dead as that would reflect badly on her job as Overseer. "My Lord, while I understand your desire for… retribution, Remicra is a significant investment for Lord Burgundy. We can't risk her death or permanent injury. She is a long term asset, bound permanently to the lighthouse property and powering its ward.”
Lord David's blue eyes sparkled with an intensity that made Pricci's breath catch. "Oh, you misunderstand, Lady Pricci. I have no intention of letting her die. Ha ha ha, no. That would be far too merciful."
He gestured to the three individuals in green and white robes. "As you can see, I have three highly skilled healers with me. And I myself am a talented Healer.” The large Vitalix Kitlix atop of the man's shoulder bobbed its head with a twinkle to confirm the man’s words.
A smile played at the corners of his mouth, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You see, I need the practice. Healing grievous wounds over and over… can be a rewarding experience for leveling up. I won’t be hiring anyone else to storm the dungeon. One of my mages will draw the Void beasts out with Thunderstrikes. Remicra’s job will be to kill ALL of the Voidbeasts and Sentinels that emerge from Whispering Depths, no matter how long it takes. After the Dungeon is cleared and the Voidtree is retrieved, she will be returned to you in… perfect health.”
Pricci pursed her lips.
“We can highlight this part in the lease contract with whatever financial penalty you may impose in case your asset is found to be injured after the fact,” Lord Dave's Secretary added. “My Lord's Estate guarantees that your asset will be returned to you more capable, more cooperative and with a higher level to boot, ready to serve your Lord as a smith once again, no worse for wear physically.”
“She will only bear mental scars,” Lord David smirked. “The kind that comes from Depthknell spikes being repeatedly teleported into her muscles. The kind that comes from Voidcrawlers snipping her arms or legs off and me reattaching them. She will be given high quality magisteel chest armor to protect her heart core and a full magisteel helmet to protect her brain, but that is all. Her arms and legs will be maimed and repaired for however long it takes for the Void dungeon to run out of beasts.”
“Damn,” Pricci thought. “This prick knows how to exact cold-served vengeance. Even without Charisma radiance I’m starting to like him.”
“It’ll teach the smith a lesson about respecting her betters,” the foxkin secretary added after her Lord finished his speech. “I hear she’s quite obstinate and tried to run away from the smithy a few times. Don’t worry, we’ll keep an extra tight leash on her, make sure she stays at the lighthouse for most nights. Here, review the contract I’ve drafted. I believe it’ll be entirely to your Estate’s liking.”
Pricci’s eyes glinted as she accepted the contract. She could not imagine a better fate for the disobedient smith. If Lord David was as skilled at healing torn limbs as his fat Kitlix implied, Remicra would indeed return in better condition than she left. Perhaps she’d even begin to appreciate working the smithy in comparison to what this devious Highborn knave was going to put her through!
“Hang on,” she said as she read over the pages. “It says here that the sublease payment will be only a silver a day?”
“That’s a nominal price. Keep reading, darling,” the foxkin purred. “There’s more on the table.”
“Oh,” Pricci’s eyebrows went up. “Ten percent from sale of all the slain Void beasts and ten percent from sale of the Voidtree?”
“Correct,” the Secretary nodded. “According to our lowest estimates the Void Tree is worth 50 platinum. With a good auctioneer, we’ll pull far more cash from it.”
Pricci did mental calculations in her head. 50’000 silver was a decent sum to bring to Lord Burgundy, but she felt like the base daily lease price was far too low. After all, other smithies would have to take over Remicra’s job for a couple of weeks or however long it would take Lord Dave’s party to procure and sell the tree. On the other side, if Remicra died during the Whispering Depths clearing, Lord David's Estate would be billed one hundred platinum.
She opened her mouth to raise the price to a hundred silver a day and the overall percentage to twenty, but the fox interrupted her by silently sliding another parchment tube into her gray fingers.
Pricci went over the second contractual parchment quickly. Ten percent from sale of the tree and dungeon monsters would go entirely to her in cash as a tip for doing such a great job as property Overseer. A very sly move, one that she didn’t expect from an Illatius Highborn. The High Lords generally saw everyone with extra affinities far beneath them and not worthy of note nor financial rewards.
She quickly Voicecast the Adventurers Guild archivist, checking on the estimated total value of the Whispering Depths dungeon. Her eyes lit up when she heard the answer. The Voidtree and the beast cores could easily net her over ten thousand silver at a public Shandrian auction. Now, if the stuff was sold in Illatius at a private Highborn auction then...
Pricci forced herself to remain calm.
“Satisfied?” The fox purred, blue eyes twinkling.
“Yes,” Pricci said, already thinking of the nice runic or even magisteel armor set she would buy herself with the cash. “We’ll use the Hunters Guild’s Burnix to sign the first and blood to sign the second.”
“Excellent!” The fox grinned.