“Where is the Master?”
“He is taking some of his other acquisitions to his warehouse.”
The gate guard nodded, stepped to the side, and opened the gate, gesturing for everyone to pass through. With a harrumph, the man walks through, leading the two new guards.
The man’s name was Palu, form head servant to the Flesh Trader, and the two new guards were Jaeger and Kaeleth. As the trio moved past the gates and onto the manor grounds, Palu felt a chill run down his back. Risking a glance over his shoulder, he was met with two pairs of eyes. One pair was silver and seemed to shine purple for a moment; these were apathetic, the eyes of a hunter watching its prey scurry into a trap. The other pair was more unnerving; the color of the eyes was not something he could remember, only the many runes flashing across them and the sheer gleeful malice in them. He felt his insides go cold, and he vowed never look back again.
“Mr. Palu. Where is our destination?” The apathetic hunter asked.
“Ah…Ah… Ahem. I am taking you two on a short tour of your stations. We will go upstairs to the master’s private office and then back down here to his trophy room. After that, we shall move underground to the treasury and his personal laboratory.” He stopped and turned, raising a finger sternly; his body moving more on routine than awareness. “The Master is not home, so we will not be going into his private office or his personal laboratory. Even when he is home, you are not to enter those two rooms or the treasury without his express permission. Am I understood?”
Only after he finished speaking did he recall who he was speaking to. For a moment, a single drop of sweat ran down his head, and he knew death was coming.
Then the moment passed.
“Of course.”
“So long as we are paid, I will go nowhere I’m not ordered.”
A sudden weight lifted, and he spun around before moving on.
“Good. Now come along.”
He led his two captors along he tried to focus on what came next. All he had to do was take these two through all of his former master’s most private rooms and either let them or help them loot everything. Even as he thought that the sight of his master flashed through his mind, more accurately, the things he’d seen his master do to people. Then his mind flew back to the moment the man was grabbed by tentacles and pulled into a storefront. He knew when two dangerous strangers appeared before the slaves that his master was dead. That knowledge is the only thing that gave him the courage to do what he was doing.
“Here we have the Master’s private office. When you’re on guard here, you’ll be expected to hold positions to the left and right of the door.” He gestured to two scuffed spots on the floor, before he shot glances down both sides of the long hallway they were in, and stepped towards the door. “The Master requires privacy while working in here, and anyone coming to see him must be checked and announced before allowed entry.”
Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.
With a flick of his wrist, he had the key to the office out and the door unlocked. Kaeleth made to step forward, but he stopped her with an outstretched arm. In a flash, she had a noxious-smelling dagger held to his throat. Throat bobbing in fear, he slowly tapped the key against four separate spots on the door, each one shining with a hidden glyph. Whispering, he explained himself.
“The lock opens the door, but the glyphs prevent actual entry. If they aren’t deactivated, they will set off an alert to the barracks and explode outwards.”
Jaeger eyed him, his silent silver eyes seeming to judge his actions before he placed a hand on the elf’s arm.
“He’s telling the truth.”
She reluctantly removed her arm, the dagger disappearing somewhere behind her back. With a relieved gasp, Palu opened the door and led the pair inside.
The Flesh Trader’s private office was surprising. Jaeger had been sure what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t this. The room was gold. The office desk, the chair behind it, the two guest seats, the bookshelves, even the books themselves; all gold. The only things that weren’t gold were the paperwork on the desk and the ink in the ink pot; he even used a golden quill.
“Is this real gold?”
Palu nodded.
“Yes, the ma…The Flesh Trader could turn things to gold.”
“He could turn things into solid gold? Then why would he be a slaver? This ability is limitless gold. Along with his combat power, he could have been untouchable.” Kaeleth said, running her hands over some of the books.
“Things like him aren’t after money or power. They only want to indulge.” Jaeger said with a note of disgust in his voice.
Palu nodded.
“The Flesh Trader said his only desire was to experiment and indulge in his love of the flesh.” A pale look ran over his face as he remembered what he’d seen. “This… this room was to show off to visitors; his real office is his laboratory. This shows who wanted others to believe he was; the lab shows what he really was.”
Jaeger nodded at that before he started shifting through the documents on the table. They were an eclectic mix. He found a series of shipping lane records, shipment records to and from the city, invoices for all his transactions, and even a signed but unsent letter of marque from the lord of the city. He put all of the papers into his storage and started to open the desk drawer. As he went through each drawer, he deposited the items he found. A bundle of local money, a sack of gems, a golden gilded skull, and a small, sleek notebook.
He opened the notebook and found the invitation sitting right in the middle of it as a bookmark. Picking it up, he inspected it and was surprised by how plain it was. It was a simple black cardstock, with the actual contents written in silver ink.
To the Flesh Trader,
You are invited to Danse Macre and the manor of Duke Chevalia to attend a ceremonial gala. The gala is being held to celebrate a grand endeavor. We hope you attend; as great changes can be expected.
This invitation will cover you and a plus one; please ensure they are suitable.
Sincerely, Marquis Le Graven.
Satisfied, he deposited it and swept up the rest of the items.
“I’ve got what we came for.”
Kaeleth turned to him, empty bookshelves behind her.
“Are we leaving then?”
Jaeger shook his head.
“No. We’re already here; if we empty just the office, it might be suspicious. We take everything we can.” He turned to Palu. “We stick to the plan.”
Palu nodded.
“Shall I lead you to the trophy room then?”
“Is there anything there worth taking?”
He nodded.
“Yes, the Flesh Trader did not simply collect bodies; he also kept items from his foes. Weapons, armor, amulets, rings. Whatever he deemed to be the most appropriate item of his foe, he kept and displayed.”
“Will anyone notice if they’re taken?”
He considered it before shaking his head.
“The regular guards do not enter the trophy room, not after the first time.” He dry swallows before continuing. “The Flesh Trader was not afraid to display his more… visceral trophies, using stasis magic, he has kept them…fresh.”