“No,” I said, it’s just on your Character Sheet. Oh, never mind.” I shook my head. “Can you just tell me?”
“While there’s not an official merchant guild per se, we have a sort of ranking based on what we’re allowed to buy and sell, and how much profit we’re allowed to make. At the end of the year, if I’ve made too much, I’ll be taxed harshly on the extra unless I buy myself another Rank.” Buffy snorted. “It’s basically formalized extortion by the high-ranking merchants to drive down competition.”
“Sounds stupid,” I said, opening her Mercantilism Power.
Mercantilism: User has the Ability to learn merchant related trees. None have currently been selected.
“It is stupid.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s also exponential, so going from ten to nine is easy, but for me to go to Rank two? That’s like nearly impossible without the Royal Centre’s blessing. Hell, just to go from four to three cost me ten years of savings.”
“Maybe you’re just a terrible merchant?” I countered as I opened the tree and found a lot of trees sort of half-formed. It reminded me of those people I’d known throughout the years who dabbled in various get rich quick schemes but, for whatever reason, never stuck around long enough to make any of them really work. “Your Skill trees are all jacked up.”
“Excuse me?” Buffy said, gritting her teeth. “I’m a great merchant.” She fished a golden medallion out from her shirt and showed it to me. A giant three was emblazoned on it. “You don’t get one of these without being awesome.”
“Or, you know, pay a bunch of money,” I said. “Which I guess sort of works for you, but I’m guessing there’s a bunch of rich nobles or something who have Rank one because they’re rich.”
“Being rich is the whole point,” Buffy said with a snort as she turned her eyes to the road. “So, what’s wrong with my Skills?”
“Well, I’m not an expert, but you have this one tree called Bartering,” I said, pulling it up. “It has a Sweet Talk Skill that could have been leveled. Each Rank gives you an increased chance to sell or buy an item at a profit. You haven’t even taken it. Then there are all the spin-offs related to it. I’d imagine you’d want almost every one of these Skills.”
“My goods speak for themselves,” Buffy harrumphed.
“Spoken like every bad salesman ever,” I said, remembering how my boss had told me to sell more Slurpees even though it had been the dead of winter and ten inches of snow had been outside. When I’d complained, he’d sat with me for a day, selling Slurpees to everyone. The dude could sell ice to an Eskimo, which was probably why he owned the Seven Eleven, and I just worked there.
“I am not a bad salesman,” Buffy said, glaring at me.
“Not anymore,” I said as I spent around three thousand Experience points to maximize Sweet Talk as well as a couple other Skills that seemed like they’d compound the effect. “Look, just see how well you do this time, and if you like it, we can work on your Skills more. In exchange, you’ll come work for me. If not, I’ll put everything back the way it was and send you along on your way.”
“Whatever,” Buffy grumbled, rolling her eyes. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to ride the rest of the way in silence.”
“Okay,” I said. I felt bad for making her upset but what was done was done. I wasn’t exactly the most tactful person I knew by a longshot. My boss could probably have made Buffy happy during the exchange, but I knew one thing. My goods would speak for themselves.
12
“So, I had a thought,” I said as we rode up toward Royal Centre. The path had long since changed from dirt to asphalt, and now there was a lot more traffic. We’d passed by everything from buggies similar to Buffy’s to horse-drawn carriages. It seemed technology ran the entire gamut because I’d actually seen an airplane overhead at one point during the trip.
“What’s your thought?” Gwen said, sitting up and stretching before yawning in an extremely attractive way. She glanced around. “Better make it quick because we’ll be at the city gates in a few minutes.”
“I don’t know if the two of you have noticed, but I’m, well, male.” I touched my chest with one finger. “The only male. In the whole realm.”
“Yeah, get over yourself,” Buffy snorted. “Bragging is so unattractive.”
“You’re missing my point.” I sighed and shook my head. “I’m going to stand out like a sore thumb in a town full of women.”
“Let me break this down for you, Arthur,” Buffy said, rolling her eyes at me. “We’re demons, not fucking nuns. We can go to earth and get a lil’ something-something whenever we like. Sure, having you here for convenience is nice, but our entire purpose is to take souls and use them in our war with the Darkness.” She flicked a hand toward Gwen. “How do you think she acquires most of her souls?” Buffy waggled her eyebrows a couple of times. “Eh, eh?”
“Yeah, fine, I just didn’t want it to be a thing,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest and looking up at the stormy sky.
Gwen touched my shoulder then. “Buffy makes a good point, but you are still the Builder of Legend. Even if most of the women here won’t want to jump your bones, you will stand out because of who you are. Remember, you are important because of who you are and what you bring to the table, not for something as silly as gender.” She winked at me. “But being nice to look at doesn’t hurt your cause.”
“Great, now he’s going to have an even bigger head.” Buffy rolled her eyes. “Both of them.”
I’ll be honest, Gwen’s words made me feel a lot better. I knew I was the Builder and as such was here to help them fight the Darkness. I knew I’d come to the Royal Centre to help recruit workers for Lustnor so we could build up formidable defenses because Gwen and the others couldn’t leave without risking execution.
At the same time, I’d never been around so many hot women, and crazily enough, they all talked to me. No, not just talked to me, but actually seemed to like what I had to say. It was strange and part of me had thought that maybe it was because I was the only guy here. Only, that wasn’t why. Sure, maybe being the only guy helped, but at the end of the day, I was the fucking Builder of Legend. Me. And that meant something to these people and, more and more, to me too.
“Thanks,” I said, nodding toward Gwen. “I’ll try to do my best and ensure we’ll win. Now onto the important business.” I pointed toward the massive obsidian walls that appeared on the horizon as we crested the hill. “What the fuck is that?”
“Those are the Walls of Torment. It’s said they are made of over a billion souls. At night, when the black wind blows across the valley, you can hear the cries of their torment for miles.” Gwen shimmied a little bit. “It’s simply marvelous.”
“Yeah, okay,” I said, staring up at the walls. They were so huge, they seemed to touch the sky. Part of me had sort of forgotten we were in Hell, and not just that, I’d almost forgotten Gwen was a demon. Sure, she was still dressed like Morrigan from Darkstalkers, but at the same time, I’d just kind of forgotten. I mean, Jesus, I was sitting here next to a goblin. My life had definitely taken a decidedly strange turn.
“So, what’s the plan once we arrive?” Buffy said, glancing at me as we entered a line of cars, buggies, carriages, and other assorted vehicles along the right-hand side of the road. Up ahead, I could see several guards talking to the occupants before allowing them to enter, but it didn’t seem like a big deal because the line was moving along fairly quickly.
“We’ll go try to recruit what we need while you do your merchant thing?” I offered with a shrug.
“Also, sell these,” Gwen added, handing the Dark Bloods we’d collected over to Buffy. “If Arthur says you can sell for a high price, I trust him.”
Buffy took the sack and looked inside before nodding approvingly. “I’d heard Lustnor was in a good position to get these but I didn’t realize you’d collected so many. Your town must be rich.”
“That’s the accumulation of nearly six months
of attacks, and we can never get near what they’re worth.” Gwen gritted her teeth. “I don’t have anyone with high enough Rank to sell them for more.”
“That’s the kind of horseshit I’m talking about. Some jackass buys these for pennies on the dollar and then upcharges them a thousand percent.” She shook her head. “Nice work if you can get it.”
“You can get it. Sell them for a lot and come back with us. We can create a lucrative business,” I said, smiling at her. “We could really use you.”
“Don’t go putting the cart before the horse, Builder.” Buffy frowned. “Let me see what I can do.” She glanced at the gold watch on her wrist. “Let’s meet at Mac’s Tavern at noon. So, four hours from now. We can talk more then, okay?”
“Okay, but there’s one more thing,” Gwen said as Buffy hit a button on the dash, causing a compartment to open next to her. She shoved the bag of Dark Bloods into it and hit the button again, causing it to close from view.
“What’s that?” Buffy asked as Gwen offered her a piece of paper. “We need these supplies. Can you try to buy them for us?”
“I’ll take a cut, but I think I can manage,” Buffy said, taking the paper and looking it over. “Nothing particularly interesting.”
“A cut?” Gwen asked, wariness filling her face. “How much?”
“Look, my cut plus what I pay will be way less than what you pay. You should consider it a gift,” Buffy said as we rolled up to the front of the gate. She flashed her Merchant’s badge at the guard as a slender woman with onyx hair walked up. She took one look at the badge and waved us through.
Quest Escort Buffy to the Royal Centre has been completed.
“Fair enough,” Gwen said as numbers flashed above her head, indicating the Experience reward from the quest we’d just completed had been distributed. “As I said before, I trust you.”
“Good,” Buffy replied as the buggy rumbled through the gates.
The inside of the city was amazing. I found myself staring at a cross between a massive metropolitan city like Toronto or Chicago and a bazaar straight out of Aladdin. Massive skyscrapers filled the horizon, rivaling only the walls in size, while propped up in almost every space were food trucks, pop-up tents, and dudes with what looked like demonic camels laden with goods.
It was the damnedest sight I’d ever seen, and as I sat there, mouth agape like a slack-jawed yokel, Buffy began to laugh.
“Never seen the Royal Centre, eh?” She elbowed me in the side. “It always gets me too, and I’ve seen it so many times I’ve lost count.”
“It smells like cinnamon,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief before sucking in another lungful. “And sage and lemon, and damn I’m starving.”
“That would probably be Voodoo Star,” Gwen said, appreciatively. “They make the best donuts this side of Portland.” She showed me a smile that was all perfect teeth and heart-stopping glory. “Come on, I’ll buy you one. They make this cream-filled one in the shape of a penis that is simply out of this world.”
“Oh, I’m jealous,” Buffy said, pulling the buggy to a stop beside the road where people were unloading various wares. “Alas, no rest for the wicked.” She cackled. “Now off with you, you’re cramping my style.”
“We’ll see you at noon,” Gwen said, taking my hand and pulling me off the cart while I tried to wrap my head around the donut in question. I wasn’t sure if I could handle eating a penis-shaped donut, but at the same damned time, I’d pretty much eat a doorknob if it smelled as good as this shop did.
“Don’t be late. Time is money,” Buffy said with a wave before leaping down and approaching a bigger, darker skinned goblin with a grill that would put a rapper to shame.
“Anyway, the reason Voodoo Star is so good has to do with the dough. They use this brioche style dough that just makes it so cakey and delicious.” Gwen licked her lips. “I can practically taste the cream melting on my tongue.” She did that weird shimmy again as we approached a shop with a line practically around the block.
The smell of the donut shop was so intense it nearly knocked me on my ass. It smelled, and I kid you not, exactly like everything I’d ever wanted. I needed to have one of these donuts. No, all these donuts. Even that would not be enough.
“Are you sure we can spare the cash?” I asked, glancing at Gwen as we began moving through the line. There were a burly couple of long-haired demons holding hands in front of us, and for some reason, the sight struck me as odd. In fact, lots of demons were holding hands. I wasn’t one to judge, but I hadn’t quite expected it.
“Donuts come out of a separate account,” Gwen said, reaching into her top and pulling out a pair of blood red bills. She held them up to me. “I always keep a little extra cash to come here when I visit the Royal Centre. It’s partially because they only take cash like a bunch of godforsaken heathens.”
“Well, you know, credit card fees…” I muttered waving a hand because my old boss at the Seven Eleven always carried on about the “filthy blood-sucking” credit card companies.
“Pfft,” Gwen blew a lock of hair out of her face. “Businesses do business.” She waved a hand at her bikini-clad body. “Do I look like I have a lot of room to carry things?”
“Well, no,” I said, feeling my face heat up. I looked away because it was then that I realized Gwen and I were still holding hands. Her skin was so warm I could practically feel it spreading out through my entire body.
“Exactly, so some consideration would be nice.” She squeezed my fingers and leaned in close, so her breasts were touching my shoulder in a way that made my pants decidedly tighter. “Do you want an oyster?” She pointed past me toward the building I’d been looking at without seeing. It was filled with people and black, wrought-iron tables were strewn across the entire alleyway separating the oyster bar from Voodoo Star. “‘Cause if you do, I’m your huckleberry.” Her breath was warm on my neck as she spoke. “They do these vodka oyster shooters that are quite the aphrodisiac.”
“Oh?” I said, swallowing as I tried to turn toward her, but we were so close together I couldn’t really move. “I’ve never actually had an oyster.”
“They’re terrible, but I love them,” Gwen said, her lips mere millimeters from mine as she spoke. “I can’t even imagine the first guy who tried them. They had to crack open the shell and be like, ‘hmm, well this looks like a bucket of snot, I bet it tastes great,’ and here’s the thing. They do taste great. A little bit of horseradish and some lemon. Mmm.” She licked her lips as she did that shimmy again, causing her chest to rub against me.
“I, um, am not sure how to take that,” I said, glancing back at the shop so my face wasn’t quite as close to hers because if she kept looking at me that way, I might do something I’d regret.
“You take it hard and fast. That’s the way I like it,” she said. “If you go too slowly, you’ll just be like ‘what the fuck am I doing? This whole thing is disgusting? How did I let myself be talked into this?’” She shivered in disgust and somehow managed to press herself closer against my body. “The best thing is to do it so quickly, it’s already done by the time you have regrets.”
“Is that so?” I asked, turning back to her, and I found her staring at me in a way I couldn’t discern. There was hunger and something else I couldn’t identify.
“Yes.” She licked her lips and stared at me for a long time. Her lips slowly parted, and she leaned in a little closer before pulling away suddenly. “Oh look, we’re up!”
13
“Look, just try the tip. If you don’t like it, that’s fine, but you owe it to yourself to find out,” Gwen said before flicking her tongue out to lick up the cream oozing from the tip of her eight-inch chocolate donut. I stared down at my own pastry. It was as thick as my wrist.
“Stop trying to pressure me,” I said, weighing the thing. It had to have been at least a pound.
“Look, just open your mouth and stick it in. Don’t overthink things.” She opened her mouth and licked the l
ength of the donut in one slow, sensuous movement before taking the entirety into her mouth. She sucked on it for a moment like she was trying to get every ounce of cream before pulling it out. “I really like how big and thick it is.” She licked her lips, getting a bit of frosting that had dribbled down from the corner of her mouth. “The cream is my favorite. All hot and sticky.”
“Does everyone eat them like that?” I said, opening my own mouth. There was no way I could get the tip inside, let alone the whole thing. It was way too big.
“It does take some practice.” She squeezed the base to force more cream out before licking it again. “But you know the saying about eating an elephant. One bite at a time, right?” She smiled evilly at me before putting the donut into her mouth up to the hilt. She made eye contact with me as she slowly closed her mouth and chewed thoughtfully.
“Wow.” I had a million very strange and equally conflicting thoughts running through my mind and couldn’t quite articulate a better response.
She smiled at me, bits of donut flecking her teeth and lips. “It does take a bit of practice to get the whole thing in at once, but it’s worth it.” She looked at my still untouched donut. “But if you like, you can have the rest of mine, and I’ll eat yours. It might make you less uncomfortable.” She showed me her donut, and sure enough, it mostly just looked like a normal donut now.
“The things I do for my friends,” I said, swapping my donut for hers. As I stared at my newly acquired donut, I felt ridiculous because it was a pastry. Still, now that she’d eaten some of it, the donut looked like a normal Bavarian cream.
“Stop being a baby and try it,” she said, licking the chocolate off the length of my former donut. “It’s really good.” She winked at me. “And don’t worry about this one. I’ve got big plans for him.” She licked it again. “Big, big plans.”
“Fine,” I said and took a small bite. Flavors exploded in my mouth. Chocolate, vanilla, cinnamon. They all hit me at once, practically knocking me on my ass. My eyes opened, and I saw everything in my life had been insignificant before I’d found this donut. Hunger consumed me, taking over my entire being with the need to have more of it inside me.
The Builder's Sword (The Legendary Builder Book 1) Page 8