9.0a

Jeffery T. Wellington, Merchant Pauper Prince, looked at his Tier Four guards as the wagon meandered through the plains towards Bogscale swamp. His guards seemed on edge, although not a single Skill, Spell, or Trait was telling the merchant anything out of the ordinary. Danger Sense finally pinged when one of the scouts returned to have a rapid fire chat with the guard leader.

Thank you good old danger. Always informing me when I can already see a problem. If it wasn’t for the singular time you saved me from giant spiders, I would have replaced you ages ago. Jeffery thought rolling his eyes. Now to find out what my bandit bodyguards have found. For the price they are costing me in fodder alone, I should be kept informed. Not to mention all the repair costs, or the bottomless bags they have masquerading as stomachs!

“Sir, there are no signs of Scalekin.” the guard leader, Andrew, said after riding up alongside the wagon’s seating. Jeffery slowed the spatial transport, reducing power to the runic plates that powered the hovering behemoth. “Are we looking at a Cragskull situation, Andy?” the merchant asked, his voice tense.

“Nothing points to an ambush sir, nothing points to their being Scales here at all. There’s no way they have suddenly become so adapt at ambushes they could conceal all traces of their existence.” Andrew said, adjusting his sword-belt to provide easier access. Guards up and down the defensive line started to unobtrusively ready themselves for action.

“If it isn’t Cragskull, then what are we looking at?” Jeffery pondered, his foot starting to tap before he calmed it.

“Sir, I’m not sure what to make of it but the scouts said there was a strange sign at the Bogscale’s edge. It looked like runes, but they gave it a wide berth, just in case.” Andrew replied.

Jeffery’s foot started tapping even faster as possibilities spun themselves into existence. “We move forward, I want to see this sign, at distance mind you.” the merchant decided, pulling a spyglass from inside his rune embossed traveling duster.

“If things turn south?” Andrew asked, loosening his sword in the sheath.

“Open with the scrolls. I’ve paid enough for them from those profiteering bastards at the Academy. Money isn’t worth shit to me if I’m dead from a poison blowgun’s dart.” Jeffery said, with a sigh.

“Understood, sir.” Andrew said with a grin. Jeffery just knew someone was going to find a way to spend at least one scroll in a totally justified manner. He could already hear the claims of, “Sir we didn’t know that goblin wasn’t a threat, so we used a scroll to make sure he wasn’t!”

Guards!Jeffery thought. Can’t live with them, can’t make Tier Six and do away with them forever, bah!

Starting the hover-wagon behemoth back up to meandering speed again, Jeffery pulled a few unobtrusive switches from where he was sitting. Shields hummed into place, and a few ports opened up along the upper edge of the wagon’s frame. Merchant Machine-Master was an expensive Class, but over the decade since, it had repaid the cost in spades. A gentler whine as the turret guns spun into preparation made Jeffery relax his tense shoulders.

There were few things that could take a group of Tier Four guards, and a hovering fortress. Jeffery knew he wasn’t invincible, but he didn’t see anything with his Skills, Spells, or Traits that could be a threat nearby. Granted there was plenty of time for a giant to charge out of the trees, or a dragon to swoop from the cloudless skies, and of course the chance of eldritch portals was ever a nightmare fueled option. Barring those, the merchant decided things were well in hand.

After cresting the final small hill in the grassy plains before the Bogscale swamp spread into view in full muddy glory, Jeffery gently eased the breaks up on his wagon pulling it into a full stop. He opened the door behind his driver seat, and entered the gear filled interior of his wagon. Locking the door, a tiny slate was opened from which the spy glass extruded. The merchant scanned the edge of the swamp until he located the alleged sign with his spyglass. Turning a tiny handle on the side, the sign leaped into full view as the magnification was increased.

Jeffery made sure to only view the sign through the spyglass, as it would negate a majority of sight based curses, magical traps, and demonic languages. Seeing no red warning tint on the sign, he turned his full attention to the script on the set of three wooden planks.

Busy right now.

Wait three days for business.

Leave if uninterested.

-The Silver Witch

The message wasn’t that important, well it was in they way that it told him a new owner held the swamp. No, it was the sigils used that interested him. That type of writing hadn’t been seen since the Imprisonment. In fact it would be completely impossible to read, or even date if he wasn’t a Glotmeister. As one of the few Master tier Polyglot V users, Jeffery had made a habit of searching old texts for new languages to raise his Skill. The language on the sign wasn’t in Witch Runes, or even Skullscroll.

The person posting this is either extremely old, extremely powerful and old, or batshit crazy. Jeffery thought as he read the writing a second time. They can’t be crazy, every child knows not to use Old Tongues. Both the Elves and the Demons take extreme views on keeping ancient history, dead ancient.

Jeffery put his spyglass away before closing the viewing slat. Moving over to the side he opened a sound horn and waited. A few seconds later Andrew’s voice sounded, “Do we have a problem?”

“I’m not sure. We are probably looking at an Elder situation. Please make sure not to use any scrolls without being attacked first, I really do not want to pay death benefits.” Jeffery said in a chipper upbeat tone.

Almost a solid minute passed before Andrew said, “Are you certain? You know that doubles our fee, right?”

“Indubitably.” the merchant said, a smile in his voice, “For twice the fee though, I’m in here, and you are not.”

Andrew said, “I can cut our normal fee to a third. Just let me and the girls inside, deal?”

Jeffery smirked, “Tie up the horses to the wagon. You can all climb in, the backdoor is open.”

Like I was ever going to keep the people making sure I stay alive outside to face Godesses-know-what. That’ll make sure I get great rates the next time I hire guards. Or not, cause, you know guards talk, especially when drunk.Jeffery thought, rolling his eyes as the guards piled into the wagon. At least they are out of the way now. Hopefully nothing strikes through the wagon shielding, but if it does I at least don’t have to pay death benefits. Fine print is fantastic!

Exiting the gear room, Jeffery moved through several other rooms until he got to a locked door. Opening the viewing slit, he looked inside to see all the guards sitting tensely on the benches available for them. “Andrew, over here.” Jeffery said, waiting for the guard leader to reach the door before he continued, “Everyone inside?”

“Yes. I’ve got all the horses tied to the wagon extension poles. Please don’t go full speed ahead unless you are prepared to pay a premium for horse meat.” Andrew said, his eyes merry while his voice was monotone.

“Don’t worry, this part of the wagon detaches when I go to escape mode.” Jeffery replied drolly.

“Funny, sir.” Andrew said while making a sarcastic throat slicer motion. “We’ll avail ourselves of the refreshments, then?”

“Yeah, we might be here awhile. I’m going to take a nap. Remember to flush when using the restrooms in there. Don’t screw up like Randall’s crew did, understand?” Jeffery said with a glare.

“Hut!” Andrew said going to full attention. “We’ll make sure to be smarter than the ape-crew, sergeant Wellington! Why, we might even know how to get the beds to work without any assistance!”

“I knew I was paying a premium for something.” Jeffery said, getting in the last word before closing the eye slit. With the guards out of the picture his Class would be able to fight without worrying about collateral damage. At worst the horses would be a write off, at best they could pick them up later. Moving back to the gear room, Jeffery threw a few switches changing the behemoth hover-wagon into a budget hover fortress. The driver’s seat folded into the gear room, and a display spellscreen allowed him to continue steering from the safety of foot thick enchanted steel.

Steering the wagon close, Jeffery took note of the changes in the swamp. There was a heavy increase in the amount of plants within the swamp, particularly vines, flowering bushes, and spiky trees. Some of the species were completely new, like nothing he’d ever seen in his travels. It only took a moment for Jeffery to slow the wagon once more as he took a closer look at all the plants.

We’ve got a predator here. Jeffery thought staring at suspicious amount of greenery. I can forgive the minimal level of insect activity, but come on, zero birds or bats feeding on the insects? Unreal.

Jeffery could swear he saw some of the vines shake in futile rage at him. Identifying the vines was interesting though, as they showed a very basic description.

Swamp Vine

A common vine found among the Bogscale Swamp.

So the predatory plant had some way of avoiding identification, not a normal ability, but nothing too extreme. The merchant wondered what a farmer, or herbalist might see instead. Unfortunately, as a machine specialized class his ability to identify plants was minimal at best. Jeffery launched a floating eyeball to hover a few meters away from the sign before heading to take a nap. The eye would alert him if anything approached. He left it facing the sign to show it had been read, and understood.

There was no way to predict the elderly, some people wouldn’t even open a conversation if they thought you didn’t pay close attention to their inane rules. Jeffery was only sticking around because his Golden Rule Skill was making no bones about the level of money to be made. Considering it was a mandatory Skill only possessed by Merchant Princes, it was accurate to an unfathomable degree.

A quick shower in his private room, and a quiet nap did wonders for his reaction time. When the first roar from the inner reaches of the swamp occurred Jeffery flashed awake a mag-pistol clenched in his hands, his eyes scanning the darkness for glowing eyes. After realizing the sound was coming from outside the wagon, he shrugged tucked the pistol under his pillow, and engaged the sound dampers on the shielding. Nodding at the silence that descended once more, he promptly went back to sleep.

A cheerful whistling alarm clock whirred into motion after the requisite nine hour nap had passed. Jeffery managed to stumble into the bathroom, and proceed to ritually wash and clean himself. A razor removed the few bits of beard starting to grow in, and a bit of snake oil slicked his hair back.

Cladding himself in a slightly more expensive copy of his normal traveling duster, tunic, vest, pocket watch, knives, hold-out pistols, and assorted arcane gadgets Jeffery was prepared to face the day once more. A quick look at the sign showed the numerical value had shifted from three days to any time within the next few hours.

If the roars were any indication, the Tier Five in the center of the swamp has met a very unfortunate end. Jeffery thought. Not that anyone would really miss a Fledgling Flood Dragon. If the rumors are right, the mother is sleeping below the Bogscale. Not that I have any inclination to find out the truth.

Jeffery paused as he realized the words on the sign had changed, yet his floating mechanical eye didn’t alert him. His eyes sharpened as the implications trickled into his mind. Either the sign was able to change on its own, or the Silver Witch had a method that avoided observation. Neither option was pleasant, but a sign that could change was worth a decent bit of coin.

An invisible witch on the other hand, would definitely cost him.

Shrugging the merchant left his room and headed to the gear room, taking a seat at the helm of his multi-carriage mechanical monstrosity he powered up several systems. His hover-wagon was a delightful brainchild of two gnomish engineering firms, and a dwarven gearsmith guild. It was a rather novel take on something they had called a steam train. Instead of steam, he had magical circuits, and instead of clunky propulsion based weapons he had mana bolt repeating turrets. There were a few other unique purchases like the spatially expanded interior, water purifier, heat exchanger unit, and shield recharger. Jeffery was never afraid to spend money to make money, or improve his comfort.

As a Merchant Prince he had standards to uphold after all.

Different from most of his upper crust merchant brethren though, Jeffery was not averse to dealing in less legal items. Poisons, toxic cargo, rare specimens, and even slaves if the price was high enough. His title, the Dark Prince, really helped cement the understanding of his wares.

Ridiculous really. Francesco gets to be the Gold Prince, and Maria is the Pearl Princess, but I get stuck with the gloomy name. Jeffery thought. As if I’m the only Merchant Royalty that deals in illegal wares!

His attention snapped to the monitor displaying the sign in front of his seat. One minute there was nothing, and the next a gorgeous woman had replaced the sign. Jeffery looked her clothing over noting how it was both fashionable, and risqué at the same time. Boots that rose to mid-thigh, a short skirt that hinted at ungodly pleasures, a tight corset with a daring design showing ample curves, and a pointy hat that declared better than words her Race. The witch’s entire ensemble was done in brilliant silver, but what really set it off was the almost intelligent movement of the clothing.

That clothing is enchanted or I’m a hallucinating. No, it’s enchanted I saw that sleeve move! Jeffery thought. Enchanted clothing, but no staff, she’s either a somatic or non-verbal caster. Power reading is a newly minted Tier Four. Assuming she’s not jerking me around by faking a lower mana threshold of course.

Jeffery grinned, he already knew a great deal about the woman approaching. Besides the obvious that she was royalty level Charm at least. First and foremost, the plant was either an ally or terrified of attacking her. Second, she wasn’t a delusional old bat because those types always attacked first. Since she was moving towards him, rather than forcing him to go to her, there was a deal in the works somewhere. Golden Rule was rising in volume so he had to mute the Skill before going deaf. It would mean he might be at a slight disadvantage in bargaining but that was well worth retaining his wits and hearing.

Jeffery watched her walk straight up to the front of the hover-wagon before sitting down in a chair that peeled itself into existence. This lady had guts the size of dragon fangs. The chair was silver of course, he hadn’t expected anything less. It was less a throne, and more a comfortable chair to chat business in, so he checked the box for not an egomaniacal ex-royal type. There wasn’t even a flicker of expression at the mana weapons pointed at her, so he was willing to bet they were either not effective, or she had a kill condition.

Probably can’t be killed by anything short of a Named weapon or some other ungodly garbage. Jeffery thought rolling his eyes. Witches, can’t fuck them without being fucked, like Gramps always said. Silver isn't part of the Color Coven though, at least not the public known colors.

A speaker tube extended from the front of his wagon and Jeffery spoke into the matching one inside the gear room, “Greetings and salutations!”

The witch tilted her head and then gestured for him to keep speaking. Jeffery instantly realized she needed more words for Polyglot to work. Perks of being a Glotmeister struck once again!

“I’ve been looking forward to dealing with the new Bogscale ruler!”

“I love your outfit, very Archwitch-level fashion!”

“Are you interested in being married?”

“Can I offer you any refreshments?”Jeffery paused as a flashing light notified him that guards had exited the back section of his wagon. He immediately moved to seal the door slowly and used a separate speaking horn to ask Andrew, “Andrew, mind explaining why four of your guards exited the back of the wagon?” When only silence met him, Jeffery flicked up a new screen to the left of the one focusing the witch. The last room in the wagon was displayed in full glory, and Jeffery rolled his eyes before cursing. He slammed the emergency door mechanism that sealed the back door instantly instead of slowly, and gave one final glance at all the unconscious guards. What a waste of gold, they turned out to be so far! Turning his full attention to the witch, he closed the speaking horn to Andrew’s section, and told her, “My apologies, there appears to be a minor betrayal in progress.”

The witch’s attention was on the four guards currently approaching from the back of the train, but Jeffery didn’t fail to notice the faint smirk that passed across her expression. The merchant’s Danger Sense was rising in volumes by leaps and bounds, forcing him to mute it the same as the Golden Rule.

Jeffery morosely watched his four guardsmen taking a moment to check their mana readings as they strolled along the side of the wagon. To no surprise they were all mid-level Tier Four, it was clear to him that one of his competitors was behind the move. There were a variety of possible reasons, removing a valued trade partner, sabotage of a possible deal, or even tanking the Dark Prince’s sterling silver reputation for fair but vile deals.

It really didn’t matter to Jeffery, any of the possible reasons was irritating, and would force a response from him. The fact that the four guards didn’t have the nuts to fight him while inside his own machine was a telling clue. It immediately eliminated two of his competitors, as they were mechanically inclined enough to provide things that could have sabotaged the inside of his hover wagon.

Who am I kidding, it’s Goldilocks, Francesco, our dear Golden Prince of puerile plotting. No other person would be willing to shell out for this lineup on the off chance they might interrupt something important. Jeffery thought with a sigh. I’ll have to find something profitable and addictive to begin cutting into Goldie’s little drug network now. I hate when trade wars start, I can practically feel the money flowing out of my pockets already!

Jeffery was going to launch attacks on the guards, but he noticed an upraised hand on the witch’s screen. A shiver moved through his body as he realized she could somehow sense him, enough to know he was about to take action. As soon as he relaxed back in his seat and moved his hands from the weapons console, the witch dropped her hand.

Shrugging, the merchant sat back to watch the show. His visual display screens were shielded enough to protect him from almost anything. Although they weren’t invincible, he doubted a Tier Four had anything that could get through his shields quickly. Jeffery leaned back in his command chair and dropped his head onto one hand before muttering, “What power is a new Tier Four going to demonstrate? Is she planning to pull them to the plant?”

The witch didn’t even move from her chair, even as the four guards pulled out a variety of scrolls before activating them. Fire, ice, lightning, and green smoke engulfed the sitting witch doing untold amounts of damage. Jeffery’s eyes narrowed as the life signs of the witch vanished in the attacks. The guards were congratulating each other with smirking faces, and single-finger salutes at the wagon.

At least, until the smoke blew away revealing a floating piece of paper.

Jeffery’s eyes bulged as he was suddenly leaning on the tip of his command chair, desperate to see more of the strange pulsing silver runes moving on the floating paper. His eyes glazed as the number of runes expanded in a concentric sphere around the Talisman.

Got to see, I’m so close, I can feel Tier Five is just a sliver away. I just need to see more! But first I have to shut up whoever is screaming, dammit! Who the hell is in my gear room making so much damn noise? Jeffery thought tearing his eyes from the screen before lightning bold of realization struck him. I’m the one screaming? What in the Ninth Abyss is going on?

Even as his mind reeled, training took over. Following barely aware instincts for danger, Jeffery slammed a hand down on the display screen cutting the live-feed part of the spell and forcing it to only show him a recording a few seconds delayed from live input. Jeffery saw the orb of runes growing, the speed of their cycling moving faster and faster until the interior of the sphere was only a glowing ball of silver light. His desperate action proved the effect was only able to work in real-time. The piece of paper that he instinctively knew was a Talisman according to the Glotmeister perk, rippled as if the abyssal wind had touched it. Moments later, the witch was once again pulled into existence, as if time had rewoven reality to force her to appear.

He looked on in sick fascination as her appearance seemed to signal a terrifying effect. Jeffery had been barely altered by the runes, even though he wasn’t viewing them directly, but the four guards had no such protection. Each of the guards was screaming, sobbing, shouting, or silent in varying degrees.

It was the changes though, that made the merchant puke to the side of his chair.

Extra arms, extra eyes, extra mouths, and all of them were screaming in a chorus of absolutely insane cacophony. Mortal men were not meant to have so many additional attachments. Jeffery managed to recover his equilibrium for a brief moment before the witch finally took action. He felt a brief flash of pride as the clothing she wore did prove to be enchanted. It rippled out from her body in an ever-expanding liquid cloud of silver, before coating all four of the guards. There were crunching noises and the screams cut off rather abruptly.

Jeffery was suitably terrified when he realized the silver ate them.

Her clothing just crunched them down like a hungry animal eating lunch. Jeffery thought his mind doing mental gymnastics to protect him from the horrors seen so far. Not even a bone or spec of blood remains!

One part of him was gibbering in fear, and the other was wondering if asking her for pity sex would work in his favor.  Before he was able to decide on begging or babbling, the witch created a new chair to sit down in. Then she held up a languid hand and said in clear Common, “Let’s talk drugs, my profitable new friend. Lunch was delicious.”

Jeffery T. Wellington’s charming smile grew to epic proportions and was utterly terrifying. Even if his stomach was currently doing backflips, and he still wondered if the witch might go for a drink later.

He certainly needed one!