Chapter 119 (Patreon)

Chapter 119

Riven side-eyed his sister with a growing grin as Azmoth walked over to play with his new hammer, and he nudged her in the side to get her attention under the dim glow of starlight and the green flaming halo overhead.  “Hey, I do have one other thing for you before we move on.”

Allie evaluated his smug posturing and took a wary step back.  “You better not fucking tickle me or something stupid like that.  I’ll fight back.”

“No!” Riven let out a long laugh and shook his head, then reached into his spatial bag and pulled out a small flashing bauble.  It was orange in color and semi translucent, and had a small picture in it that changed based on the way you looked at it - though Allie couldn’t tell what it was by any angle.

“Uhm… What’s this?” Allie asked curiously, inspecting it and getting only question marks pop up for her identification information.

Riven smiled fondly.  “Well, first I have a question for you.  Do your minions level up?”

“... Why?”

“And what kind of minions can you make?”

“... Those are very odd questions, but fine I’ll play ball.  My minions can level up, yes.  It’s why some of my skeletons are simply skeletons while others I’ve outfitted to be ‘death knights,’ though they’re technically not REALLY death knights YET.  The ones I’ve been calling death knights are really just leveled up skeletons I’m preparing to take on the actual class of death knight.”  She waved a hand at where some of her more heavily outfitted and armored skeletons stood silently by.  “The problem is that mindless undead minions can’t have classes.  They retain the abilities their old bodies had, or unholy versions of the abilities they had, but their classes and associated perks disappear.  In order to have a class they need to have a true soul and these ones only have soul fragments.  It’s been a pain to deal with, but I know I can eventually figure out how to imbue true souls without the bone garden’s intervention.”

“Why not just use the bone garden then?”

“Because then they wouldn’t be my minions.  They’d be self-aware undead that serve themselves rather than me.”

“Hmmm.  I see.  But they can still level up?”

“Yes, they can.  They also start at half the level they were when they were raised from the dead.  So if they started out at level 20, they come back as a level 10 skeleton.  Concerning your other question about what kind of minions I can make, I’m a swarm necromancer and have a heavy focus on bone.  I have 200 ‘basic’ undead minion slots and 2 ‘captain’ undead minion slots that control my other minions.  They’re supposed to be intelligent, but again I can’t seem to figure out how to create them without the bone garden and the bone garden doesn’t add them to my minion slots.  My class allows me to specialize between bone, soul, and flesh, and bone is my specialization.  So most of my creatures lose their flesh pretty fast, but I can also modify them to build them up with bone from other creatures or even grow new bone to fill in gaps when needed or for extra protection.”

“Can the ‘captain’ undead minion slots be used on any creature when you figure it out?”

Allie suspiciously grinned, then eyed the bauble.  “What exactly is that, Riven?  Why are you asking me all these questions?”

Riven touched one hand to his heart and took a step back as if accused of something horrible.  “Well I just figured that since most of my sack was filled with the the body of the dungeon’s drake boss that I’d ask if you could - you know… use it.”

Allie’s jaw dropped.  Her eyes landed on the orange bauble in her hand, then she looked back up to Riven afterwards.  “You’re kidding me.”

“Not kidding you.” Riven stated cheerily with a finger uplifted.  “That’s a compression device because we couldn’t fit it into the bag's opening, but it still took up a lot of mass-space.  The dungeon was more than happy to get rid of it instead of filling up the entire damn thing with more of its loot.  The body would have gone to waste otherwise.  So… if you ever figure out how to use it, there’s your pet drake.  It’s pretty big!  Careful where you break that bauble because if it shatters the body comes crashing down.”

“... Well, thank you Riven.  You’ve always been very thoughtful of me, even while growing up.”  His sister gave him the childish, excited grin he used to get whenever he gave her Christmas presents back on Earth when they were young.  She palmed the bauble in her hand, then shoved the item into a pocket and pat it down.  “It won’t be useable for quite some time, and it’ll probably take up quite a few minion slots from what Mara told me about the relative strength of minions to necromantic master, but it is certainly appreciated.  Perhaps in a few months I’ll have figured it out.  You’re the best, as always.”

***

[You currently have 2 requesting trading partners, 0 claimed trading ports, and 4 open trading ports.  These factions each wish to set up a trading commune designated in the space enclosed by one of your altar’s platform barriers.  Please decline or accept the following faction offers:

• Negrada, Minor Hellscape Dungeon
• The Blood Moon Requiem]

Riven touched the screen and mentally selected which port he’d like to utilize.  “I accept Negrada’s trade request.”

To his left, one of the stadium-sized platforms came to life with a myriad of lights that lit up the night sky.

[The faction: Negrada, Minor Hellscape Dungeon, is transferring its trading commune now.  Trading commune is set to Tier 1, and you may now set up your own commune on the opposite end of this connection.  Setting up your own trading commune is not a necessity, but those recognized by the altar owner as merchants representing your faction are allowed to cross over via portal access in the trading port.  Tier 2 can be purchased by either trading partner after 1 year’s time.  Tier 3 will be unavailable until the integration phase is over and the world quests have been completed.  Please hold.]

*POP*

And just like that, a large red tent appeared, and a large portal appeared beside it.

The portal itself was wreathed in flames and shifting images revealed what Riven could only assume was the hellscape, with demonic figures roaming about on the other side in more organized a fashion than he was used to - but no sounds came through it whatsoever.  Then tent itself was rather large and spanned a space not nearly as large as the area given to the faction to build on, but was more about 40 yards wide and 80 yards long.  The depiction of a black flaming eye symbol was imbued onto the front of the tent, and the large tent flaps at the front were parted to reveal a couple dozen jabob demons in purple robes, a dozen or so scantily clad and collared succubi of varying skin tones, a very tall incubus of orange skin and black hair who held leashes attached to the succubi, and a handful of heavily armored purple gargoyles with yellow eyes that each was the size of a rhinoceros.

Fay immediately hissed in irritation and took a step back, quickly hiding behind Riven to make herself look small when the incubus settled his gaze on her, and the demon smirked at her reaction before leaving the leashes he had with a gargoyle to follow one of the older, bearded jabob demons with a cane.

“What’s wrong?” Riven asked, feeling Fay’s forehead and her small horns push up against his back to hide her face.  “You ok?”

Fay uttered a growl, and Athela began to laugh while walking over and adjusting her tiara.

“You have a lot to learn about demonic culture, Riven.”  Athela pat him on the shoulder and watched the two demons from Negrada approach.  “A lot to learn.”

Riven frowned, but let Fay stay there to hide in his shadow until the old Jabob demon with the twisted, knotted beard came to a stop before them - evaluating Riven in particular with three bright green eyes that were unlike most Jabob demons Riven was familiar with.  Beside the old, red-skinned, ape-like demon - the incubus calmly stepped into place with eyes firmly glued to him as well.

“You can tell your succubus that I have no intention of trying to claim her.” The orange, extraordinarily handsome man said.  So much so that Allie audibly inhaled a sharp hiss of air.  He had a very strong jawline, was toned but not huge, had his black hair in a ponytail that came to his back and wore a white shirt with brown pants and boots.  His wings were similar to Fay’s but larger, and the tail was a lot thicker at the base, while his horns were far larger than Fay’s and curled at the tips.  Out of thin air, he produced a stone tablet very similar to a clipboard, and summoned a glowing pen made of red light.  “I would not dare anger my master Negrada by attempting to relinquish something that is yours, Riven Thane.  Even if I wanted to, I cannot, because my mercantile license through the system does not permit me to attack you on altar grounds unless I was stolen from or attacked first.  Not only that but bonded succubi familiars are much harder to capture than free-roaming ones anyways.  Though I must admit… I would thoroughly enjoy having a blue.”

A blue?  Was he referring to Fay’s skin color?  Riven glanced back over to the other scantily clad succubi; and noted how there were green, orange, bright white, brown, and purple succubi present - each with slightly different features concerning their demonic features.

Fay’s grip relaxed, and she peaked out warily from under Riven’s arm where he held Vampire’s Escort with the staff planted onto the ground.

Still, she did not move from where she stood behind him.

Riven remained silent, blinking with one hand on his staff and the other shoved into a pocket, and he shifted his gaze when the old Jabob demon began to laugh.

“My name is Fred, and I’m the leader of this trading commune as a representative for my master, Dungeon Negrada.  It is a pleasure, boy.”  The gnarled hand stretched out for Riven to shake.  “This incubus is Zelmontar Shushvar Trok, but you can call him Zelmont.”

Riven stared down at the shorter demon, then accepted the handshake firmly with a polite nod.  “I assume your name isn’t truly Fred either.”

“No it is not, but it’s an easy enough name to remember and was picked from the knowledge we have of your world.  My actual name is Forskar Mentunivini Chubrakwanton.  But you can just call me Fred.”

Riven chuckled and released the grip, gesturing to Athela - who was glaring daggers at the incubus as if daring him to do something, and then Azmoth.  “These are my minions Athela, Azmoth and Fay.  This is my sister Allie, as well as her advisors Mara, Nin, and Vin.  And this is Gurth’Rok.  I’ve got to admit, I’m rather curious as to what you can offer us and what we can offer you at such an early stage in the integration process.  I appreciate the gesture from Negrada, he didn’t seem like too bad a guy there at the end of my stay, but it is nevertheless confusing to see him wanting to establish trade connections.  We barely have a civilization set up to begin with and don’t have much in the way of production or goods yet.  Do you mind explaining why he chose to come?”

The red, ape-like demon stroked his beard thoughtfully and then examined the surrounding landscape - eyes settling on the partially terraformed tower in the distance.  Though plantlife and animal life had changed thoroughly for miles through the Altar’s work, it hadn’t changed the buildings of Brightsville.  “Truthfully I’m slightly confused myself.  I was hoping you’d know, but it is not my place to question the master.  If I had to guess, it is that he sees a lot of potential in you and your newly growing civilization.  It is a rarity for him to invest in such younglings like this, most of our trading partners are other dungeons or established factions in the hells, but truthfully the curiosity of it all makes me quite keen on being here.  I’m excited to see things unfold, as no doubt time will tell us both why we were sent.  This is your first time experiencing an altar’s trading system, yes?”

Riven nodded, as did Allie and the others.

“Alright, I’ll start with the basics.  First and foremost the system store is accessed by putting a hand on the central spire there - the one with the halo of green fire surrounding its top.  It generally has marked-up prices and you should only buy from there if you’re desperate.  Trading communes are the primary way civilizations trade off world.  With larger negotiations there are some who trade via other means to avoid the 1% system tax on their Elysium Coins with any trade deal, but that usually isn’t worth the effort unless the quantities are huge or the item tiers are vastly greater than the world tier.  It’s pretty simple otherwise.  We take goods from the dungeon and present them here, with Tier 1 communes like this one being limited in size as well as the scope of what we can bring.  Communes are also limited for what they can bring over by the tier of worlds, and because this is what the system considers a F-class world we get taxed much more for even attempting to bring over any higher tier goods.”

“This is the first time I’ve heard of world-tiers.” Allie stated with a raised hand to interrupt the two.  “Is F-class bad?”

“F-class is usually what all worlds start out at when they integrate, it isn’t anything to be ashamed of.” Fred the jabob shrugged, supporting his weight more heavily on his gnarled cane.  “It just means that if we bring over SSS, SS, S, A, B, C, D or E-class items that we’ll be taxed exponentially for even the transfer of goods.  It works like this: If Negrada sends over supplies that are labeled F-class to this F-class world, we only get taxed 1% on transactions for anything we sell.  If we give you F-class items for free in an F-class world then we get taxed by another base percentage of 1000% of the item’s average worth, which will certainly not happen from Negrada’s standpoint I can tell you right now.  And free stuff is even outlawed by Elysium in newly integrating worlds to stop unfair advantages from happening until the world has been entirely claimed by one native entity or an invasion force with a token.  E-class items we supply to you will be taxed at 100% the the normal value on top of the sale price.  D-class items we supply an F-class world with will be taxed 1000% the average cosmic price.  C-class items we supply an F-class world with will be taxed 10,000% the average cosmic price.  This goes on, adding zeros for each tier above the world tier until you get to SSS tier, which nobody in their right mind would ever sell if they ever managed to get such an item.  But theoretically, if we brought over an SSS-class item to an F-class world, the tax on what the system considers the average price to be would amount to a %10,000,000,000 mark up.”

The demon huffed as Riven’ did the numbers in his head.

“If the items are labeled as ‘Elite,’ within their item tier it also increases the value with another 0.  If it is labeled as ‘Legendary’ by the system within their item tier, like that soul-woven set you have there girl-” The jabob poked at Allie’s bone armor, and then her wand.  “That status will elevate the price by two zeros on top of whatever the normal tax would be.  These percentages are between all altars, even those within the same faction.  And that, my friends, was all meant to explain why we have only taken F-class items with us to this commune!”

The incubus Zelmont chuckled and shook his head, scribbling down notes with his magical red-light pen while evaluating their surroundings as well as the three other unoccupied commune trade ports on the altar’s 3-square-mile platform.  “That was rather long-winded.  I have a question for the master of this altar-”

Zelmont gestured to the other trade ports.  “Do you have any others that you’re going to be setting up shop with sometime soon?”

Fred frowned and scoffed up at the other, taller demon.  “How in Negrada’s name would a place like this get another trading agreement moments after establishing an altar?  You do realize this is a newly integrated world, right?  You’re being rude.”

Zelmont rolled his eyes and tapped his pen on the stone tablet clipboard he carried.  “I am only being practical, Fred.  I don’t expect them to have other off-worlders of note here, but it is still certainly possible that they have other on-world trading ports with other Panu-based altars.”

“Why does it matter?” Riven asked curiously.

The two demon men turned his way.

“Well we can trade with anyone inside the altar’s boundaries.” Zelmont stated with a polite smile.  “So if you are able to get more factions established within your altar, we are able to trade with them through this connection.  It’s more profitable for everyone present if you have all of your four trading ports filled.  Taxes go up even more if communes trade with one another, but we won’t bore you with those details like Fred did earlier and it wont' effect your own trading prospects at all.”

Fred scowled up at the incubus who played dumb to the glare, and Riven smirked at the interaction.

“I see.  Well, there is one other faction that I have yet to accept.  I was wanting to talk to you first.”

“Oh!?” Fred’s eyes perked up, and he rubbed his knotted hands together with a vigorous smile while Zelmont pulled some kind of drink out of a spatial bag at his side and began to sip.  “That is splendid news!  We also appreciate the gesture of good faith in speaking to us ahead of the other.  I assume it is an on-world ally you’ve made?”

Riven and Allie exchanged looks.

“No.” Riven said, pulling up his altar’s functions screen out of his own status page to view the notice.  “It’s something called The Blood Moon Requiem.  Ever heard of it?”

Zelmont immediately choked on his drink and sprayed it out all over the ground, eyes going wide as Fred froze in shock.  The incubus blinked and wiped off the liquid from his chin, then scowled in disbelief.  “I may have heard wrong and excuse my rudeness, but could you repeat what you just said?  I think I may have misheard you.”