Chapter 49: Arriving in Miltus (Patreon)

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From afar, Miltus was beautiful.

The city’s borders extended from the bottom of the cliffs all the way to the top; buildings made of white and blue marble adorned rocky crevices like mountain flowers.  I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination but amidst the smell of fish and brine in the docks, I could scent the flagrance of flowers coming from deeper within the city.  Sailors moved back and forth, swearing and laughing, sharing in on a joke that only they knew.  

Compared to Samak City, this place was alive and it was full of different races.  I saw elves, beastman and thought I saw orcs without warpaint, meaning they weren’t warriors belonging to a particular horde, just living their lives and running about their daily tasks.  The galleon I had just been on, the Sea Liver, wasn’t the only ship at port nor the largest by far.  Carracks, that were double the size of the galleon, were anchored like behemoths resting at their nesting place; dwarfing even the galleon.  

Needless to say, I was impressed.  Not just as an MSS adventurer but as a human being; even in the real world I’d never seen ships this big and things so alive.  

I was near the bow of the ship, admiring the sights.  I felt it when the ship stopped, held in place by the anchor and soon, Captain Leck and her men began moving cargo down to the ship.  They wasted no time in getting to work.  Next to me, I felt Skaris stir.  The huge beastman wore a cloak that covered him from head to toe, the heat on his red scales had been too much.  

“I should look into getting Skaris his racial-trait unlocked soon… if the Colosseum is as big as they say, there’s bound to be race-specific quests.”

It was time to start getting serious about gaining strength, not just for myself but my party members as well.  For Kyrian, a mage, that meant putting in requests for Mana Cores to a Mage Tower.  I’d first need to confer with Kyrian about what elements he planned to specialize in.  As for Skaris, we’d need to find a witch doctor or shaman of the beastman tribe.  Absently, I wondered if there was a large enough beastman population here to warrant such a thing.

“Young master! You were here!”  Yousef and his two brothers, Olopo and Tomahud, came towards us with their guards in tow.

“I believe we have a lot to talk about.  But first, please.  Let me invite you and yours to my manor.  We can talk all we want on the way there.”

“Agreed.”  I had some things I needed to ask Yousef as well.

He wasted no time in making sure we walked down the planks towards a carriage that was waiting for us.  I saw that there were other planks leading down from the boat and the orc refugees and former slaves were walking down.  Kellin, the leader of the Black Dogs, saw me and bounded over to me.

“Slaveborn.”  He greeted.  No matter how many times I spoke to Kellin and his hunters, I’d never get used to the half-canine, half-human deep throated growl-like voice that they used.

“Kellin.”

“Glad to see you back on your feet.”  He remarked and I heard Skaris snort.

“Barely.  Hisss eye ails him sssstill.”  

Skaris had been rather vocal about the pressing need for me to regain my eyesight.  Until we did so, he was not willing to risk us fighting in the Colosseum.  Our sparring sessions were helping, somewhat, but I knew that I was still prone to making mistakes.  I’d learned from Arione’s example how deadly those could be.

“We’ll fix that soon enough.”  I tried calming Skaris down, “But we need gold.  A place to live.  Food.  Reliable income.  Without those, we can’t make a place for ourselves.”

“That’s what I wished to speak to you about.”  Kellin leaned in.  “They are bent on leading us to the slums.”

I grimaced.  It was happening much faster than I thought, I was under the impression that there would be some time and wiggle room for me to negotiate with Yousef.  But the man was shrewd, he knew how I felt about the refugees, no doubt a tactic to pressure me into the Colosseum sooner than later.  I didn’t hate him for it, but I was still annoyed.

“Coordinate with Jak’tur and Ellin.  Just keep the non-combatants safe.”  

Jak’tur was a Wolf-Totem Berserker who took over after their leader’s death.  Ellin was the elven priestess who had almost become a slave; she was the one who healed my eye and fingers.  Superficially atleast.

Kellin nodded.  “What about those who wish to leave?”

“Let them.”  I waved a hand dismissively.  “We’re not slavers.  They’re free.”

“We provided them with weaponssss.”  Skaris hissed.

I hesitated then shook my head.  “They earned their keep.  It took everyone’s help to get through the desert until we met Yousef.  They can take whatever they earned but make sure there’s no stealing or theft.”

The Black Dog leader gave me an affirmative grunt and turned back.  It was strange to see a grown man listen to my orders and come report to me on what I wanted them to do.  The beastman in particular had become fiercely loyal to me.  Skaris for example, seldom left my side.  But with Skaris it felt more like a dragon that protected its treasure hoard.  With Kellin and the Black Dogs, it felt more like a loyal dog.

“That’s insulting.  Let’s not think like that.”  I shook my head, bringing myself back to the moment.

“Lock, Yousef is waiting.”  Kyrian pointed.  The mage had once again put his cowl over his head, leaving his head shrouded beneath its shade.  Only his golden locks peeked out at the fringes of the hood’s shadow.

Skaris in the meantime had changed into his armor without me noticing.  He favored light armor, a mixture of brown leather with iron.  I also knew that in his Dimension Ring, he had half a dozen spears which he could take out at a moment’s notice with deadly prejudice.

Entering the carriage, I saw Yousef sitting along with his brother, Tomahud.

Yousef, in his typical fashion, was covered in gold.  The tips of his mustache were swirled into a point that was tied with a golden braid and all ten of his grubby fingers had multiple rings on them; gold, silver and precious jewels.  His beady eyes twinkled as I took my seat, opposite of him.  Tomahud dressed humbly, wearing only rings and a necklace compared to Yousef’s extravagant fashion sense.

Clop

Clop

The carriage began to move and I put my good eye towards the window, seeing the city from within.  Soon the wooden boards and sailors of the dock changed to paved stones and shopkeepers, colorful houses and regular people going about their business.  

It was peaceful.

It was a bit jarring, coming from the war-like culture of the orcs to a city where people walked around without weapons, without Cores and certainly without the fear of monster attacks.  I did spy a few slaves; marked by the manacles around their necks.  I absently touched my own neck as well, tracing the sacrs that it had left.  More than once, the manacle dug into my neck, furrowing deeper.  

But no one here was fighting for their lives on a daily basis.

Now combined with the scar that ran down by bad-eye and past the corner of my lips, my neck had one as well.  Still, it was better than being dead.

During the ride, Yousef began to walk about the different types of wine that Miltus exported. Hearing Kyrian exchange pleasantries with the wealthy dwarf, I tuned them out and turned my attention to the change in scenery.

The whole of Miltus was one big giant hill and I could see how the class segregation had taken root here in this city.  As the carriage went uphill, the houses got larger and the space between them increasingly grew in size.  At first, we passed by multifloor apartments or inns, with a balcony or two.  I saw taverns and other shopkeeps, marking down stores.  Then we passed by houses with gardens, until finally we were at the top of the cliffs.  

These weren’t homes, they were Estates with a capital E.  Gardens here could be seen as miniature forests with their own ecosystem of birds, plants and small mammalian creatures.  The streets near the bottom of Miltus had been packed with crowds but now, people walking on the path was sparse and few.  Most of the people walking were in uniform or obviously dressed as one of the working class, a messenger or housemaid.  The residents here traveled in carriages, much like we were doing.

I felt out of place and rightfully so.

The carriage led us to a gated manor, with a vineyard instead of the regular garden.  The change in plant-life was drastic between the manors, some of them deeply wooded with dirt; which seemed out of place on the rocky peninsula.  No doubt, the work of a mage.  The others had chosen to embrace the natural beauty of the coastal cliffs.  Yousef was of the latter.

Soon, the surroundings became a blur.  We got off at Yousef’s manor and his servants led us upstairs into Yousefs study.  A wide open room with sofas, a large work desk with not a scrap of paperwork to be found and paintings of dwarves that all looked similar to each other; down to the golden signet ring.

“Feels good to be home.”  Yousef smiled at me, taking a seat opposite of myself.  “Refreshments will be up soon.”

“Thank you.”  Kyrian sat on my right and Skaris on my left.  

I saw the lizardman’s eyes dart left and right, searching for hidden guards.

“So how do you like Miltus so far? Beautiful, eh?”  

“It is.”  I leaned back, folding my arms.  “But I’m more interested in these slums people have been talking about.”

Kyrian took a sharp intake of breath.  He’d been trying to teach me proper decorum on how to speak to nobles and high-ranking members of the Miltus society.  But in my eyes they were all thugs.  Yousef included.  I was thankful to the man, but that didn’t mean I was going to treat him as something he wasn’t.

“Haha! Getting straight to the point eh?”  He steepled his fingers in front of his chest, leaning towards me.  “Yes, young master Lock.  The lodging I promised, it’s in the Slums.  The orc refugees, the beastman and the former slaves; they are being led there as we speak.  But I’m sure you already knew that.”

I gave no response; no need to confirm something he already knew.

“The Slums lie beneath the shadow of the cliffs.  Whereas the rest of Miltus basks in the sunlight everyday, the slums alone are hidden by the cliff shadow.”  He smiled at me, golden fillings reflecting the sunlight shining through his double hung windows.

“Even if I had the funds to situate your people elsewhere, I could not.  There is no space for them; unless we are willing to expand Miltus’ borders.  That is something outside of my control, I regret to say.”  

Yousef’s words had taken a more serious tone.  During our trip he had spoken to me like I was a client, someone he needed to bait in.  Kind of like a car salesman.  But now that I was in Miltus… 

“He thinks he has me.  And he’s not wrong.”  

Yousef had me where he wanted me.

But I also had him where I wanted as well.

“I don’t care about the slums, none of us expected carpets lined with gold when coming to Miltus.  What I want to talk about is an opportunity for these people to grow.”

“Oh what did you have in mind?”

“I’m going to turn them into adventurers.”

This time, it was Yousef’s turn to take in a sharp intake of breath.

I had already told Skaris and Kyrian my plan but even they flinched.  It seemed like Yousef was about to repeat the things that Kyrian had tried explaining to me.

“You mean… a Clan?”

“No.”  I waved his theories away before he could start.  “Just so that the talented few could support the untalented, until the untalented could find a place for themselves in this city.”

“What you are suggesting makes sense but the problem lies in their loyalty with you.”  Yousef narrowed his eyes at me.  “Someone will find out; word travels fast in the slums.  Nearly seven scores of men followed you here, elite Orc warriors and Beastman.  People will find out that you freed these slaves and that you’re behind them… The Jayu States may not be as strict as the Turina Empire but even we won’t stand by and watch you build up a military force.”

“They won’t be military forces.  They’ll be properly registered adventurers-”

“Like I said… the problem lies in their loyalty to you.”  Yousef interrupted..

I gritted my teeth.

“Now if you are willing to start a Clan, that’s something I could help you with.”

“No.  No Clan.”

I wasn’t ready for the responsibilities of leading a Clan yet.

Whoa.  Why did I assume I’d lead the Clan?

Regardless, a Clan meant farming Cores, distributing loot and staking out the best hunting grounds.  For that to happen, we needed a main party that could stand against the strongest parties of other Clans.  Clan Wars over hunting grounds and best dungeons were a frequent thing and until I had a good grasp of my own strength in the current MSS world, I didn’t want to draw attention to myself.  

Now was a time to grow personally with a small elite gorup, not expand my reaches everywhere.

“Then there’s nothing we can talk about-”

“There is.”  Kyrian cut in.  He glanced at me sideways and I nodded for him to continue.

“We’re not the only group that is not aligned with a clan with loosely interconnected relations that point to a single figurehead… isn’t there another one? Right underneath our noses?”

“Ah master mage… I’m not sure-”

“I was employed by the Akka Xaluds and worked closely with Jason Carid, a Scion.  I don’t believe my information is wrong.”  Kyrian slowly took off his hood, revealing his blonde hair.  “There’s another force in the Miltus.  Someone powerful enough that you can’t touch.”

“...Ahahaha!! AHAHA!”  Yousef laughed then slapped his thighs.  “I knew you three were special the moment I laid eyes on you!”

He feigned wiping a tear.  “Yes.  There’s already an organization in place with registered adventurers loyal to one person, yet not in a clan.  They call him the Slum Lord.”

“And that’s why you’re sending us there.”  I finished for him.  “You were hoping to see if we could do anything about him.”

Yousef grimaced.  “I must confess, the thought did cross my mind.  But it would be a far-fetched hope…”

“Who’ssss thissss Sssslum Lord?  How ssstrong is he?”  

“That’s the problem, master Skaris.”  Yousef shook his head.  “No one knows who he is.”

“All we know is that he is in charge of the underbelly of Miltus and a few other states.  Gambling.  Brothels.  Taverns.  Information Brokers… He’s grown too strong for us to act against him directly so we have left him be.”

“And if I can sniff out who he is and replace him; then you’d simply be trading an unknown enemy for an individual who’s indebted to you.  Or thinks they’re indebted to you anyways.”  I surmised and Yousef agreed with a grunt.

He shrugged.  “I was planning to offer you and yours, Master Skaris and Kyrian, lodging in my own home.  I was hoping that either the Black Dogs or the Berserkers would be able to weaken the Slum Lord long enough for us to do something about him at a later time.”

“What’s the issue with having him?”  I was genuinely curious.  “All cities need a Black Market.”

It was true.  Every city like Miltus might look spotless at first glance, but civilization as a rule was like a living breathing organism.  Intake and outtake.  There needed to be an outlet for all the waste and the unwanted things; and in MSS the Black Markets were it.  They could make bodies disappear and you could obtain illegal items there.

To attract adventurers, Black Markets were a must.

“The issue is that he’s growing too powerful.  Too fast.”  Yousef sighed.  “You are very sharp young master, but you underestimate the nature of greed.  The Slum Lord’s reaches are beginning to encroach upon our own power.  Fixing matches in the Colosseum, illegal gambling rings and kidnappings of our fighters.  He has also started to kidnap ordinary civilians; he has started to touch upon the slave trade as well.”

I felt myself stiffen.  I knew slavery was widespread and rampant but why the hell were people so eager to start a business around it?  

“...I reckon he was waiting for the right moment.”  Kyrian put his hand on his chin, a habit of his when he was in deep thought.  “Those with the right information channels would already have known that something was going to happen to the Samak Horde.  But now, there’s a power vacuum.  It will take the Akka Xaluds years to set up something similar to what the Horde had; personnel, connections, routes and supply.  But if this figure has been preparing all along…”

“He issss poissssed to sssstrike.”

I nodded.

“But you shouldn’t get involved in this, as I said I want to open up my house to you and yours, young master.”

“No.”  I wanted to make my stance clear to Yousef.  “I will be with the people that I brought here.”

He frowned.  “The Slum Lord has ears everywhere.  You’re basically bringing another huge faction into his doorstep and he will act.  Mark my words, it won’t end with just you.  He’ll aim at your people, your friends and all you hold dear.”

“They’re already in his sights.”  I peered at Yousef.  “Isn’t that why you sent them there? To delay him and try to get him to act?”

Yousef coughed and looked away.

“What’s done is done.  I will be staying in the Slums.”  I smiled at him.

I needed to draw a line here or Yousef would think I was doing this for him.

To be honest, I wasn’t sure about this whole talk about the Slum Lord and the political warfare that was going on.  All these games and cat’s paws tactics were beyond me.  But if there was one thing I was sure of, it was that I had a responsibility to make sure those people had a safe place to live.  Kellin and the orcs followed me here because they believed that I could lead them to safety.

The least I could do was stay with them.

“You don’t have to worry about us.  Work your plans as you will, and we will do what we need to do on our own.”  I shrugged.  “Let’s talk of other matters now.”

Yousef stared at me a moment longer, then nodded.  He waved his hand and a stack of papers appeared in his hand; those golden rings must be Dimension Rings.

“As per our agreement, you will fight in the Colosseum as a new fighter.  The debt you owe me for the entire trip is 10,000 gold.”

“1 Copper is roughly one dollar and 100 coppers is one gold so…  I owe this guy $1 million dollars?!”  

I stopped myself from lunging at this fucking two-faced snake-dwarf.  Had I been scammed?

“Ah do not worry.  Fight monets at the Colosseum start at 50 gold.  And with your skills young master, I am sure that you could reach thousands of gold in fight money.”

“What else is there besides gold?”  I was more interested in the prizes.

Items in MSS… so far I’d only been using Common items.  But items could be graded into Common, Uncommon, Rare, Unique then into two different branches: Artifacts for [Mental] aligned items and Legendfor [Physical] aligned items.  Then above those two were the Pluralities.

I wanted to start outfitting myself.

“My Jagged Katana is a Rare but compared to other Rares, it lacks in the stat department.”

“Invitations to auctions, closed-cutain markets and renown blacksmiths are always looking for a promising young fighter to show off their wares.”  Yousef said proudly.

“When’s my first fight?”

“Patience young master! Though I love the energy! Hahahaha!”  Yousef clapped his hands; the golde dwarf always got excited at the Colosseum.  He might be a scummy businessman but at the end of the day, none could doubt his love for the sport.

“I can’t have you fight against nobody! I will pick out the proper match and send you a messenger.  I can assure you, I will do my utmost best.”

“I’ll be waiting then.”  I stood up to leave.

“Is there anything else I could do for you?”

I hesitated.

What did I need right now?  In order for me to create a party and grow stronger what was the thing I was missing? Items? Equipment?

No…

MSS was a game centered around farming monster materials and Cores.

“I need a list of the dungeons in and around Miltus.”

“A list? Of how many?”  Yousef looked puzzled.

I smiled; showing him my teeth.

“All of them.”

It was time to go hunt some monsters.

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