We walk into the slave market, and the same sight welcomes me as what did on my second day here. The pungent smell of sweat and desperation fills the air, mixing with the occasional whiff of rotting food and unwashed bodies. Wails and sobs echo around us, mingling with the angry shouts of merchants hawking their human wares.
The atmosphere is oppressive, a stark reminder of the harsh realities these people face.
Our mission here is clear: to find an experienced merchant, specifically a Slave Merchant classed person who is over level 15 and has the Slave Contract spell unlocked. We weave through the crowded alleys, our eyes scanning for someone who fits the bill.
The market is a chaotic jumble of makeshift stalls and wooden platforms. Chains clink and rattle as slaves are herded and displayed, their eyes dull and lifeless. The merchants are a mix of hardened traders and opportunists, their faces set in expressions of calculation and greed.
We stop at a particularly large stall manned by a robust man with a shrewd look in his eyes. He’s surrounded by a variety of slaves, each one looking more miserable than the last. He seems to fit the description of a seasoned trader.
“Excuse me,” I say, catching his attention. “We’re looking for someone who can perform a Slave Contract. Are you able to do that?”
The merchant eyes us suspiciously for a moment before breaking into a businesslike smile. “Ah, you’re in luck. I’m exactly what you’re looking for. Name’s Garin, and I’ve been in this business for over twenty years. Level 17, Slave Merchant class. I can perform the Slave Contract spell.
What do you need?”
“For now we’re just collecting information. Can you tell me how rare this spell is amongst the merchants here and how much you charge for such a service, just out of curiosity?”
“Oh…” He no longer seems very eager to continue the conversation, after all, I all but stated that I won’t make him money. “Hmm… It’s pretty rare, I would say. Only the older folk have it.
I’ve not seen it on anyone younger than thirty in my decades of being in the business, mostly because the Slave Merchant class levels up by making profit on your merchandise, so it is a slow grind unless you strike it really big like getting your hand on an elf princess or something. As for the service cost, if you bring the slave or slave-to-be to me I will do it for 5 silver.”
What a premium service. 10 construction worker paydays for a few minutes of his time. Unlocking that spell must be the wet dream of every slave seller.
We thank him for the information and walk around, scouting in general. Ayame seems completely unaware that she is holding my hand tightly once again, but I’m not going to bother her about it, after all, these scenes must be horrible for her traumatized mind.
She insisted on coming and I didn’t wish to refuse, knowing that it would be a low-blow to her mental health if I show that I think she is too fragile.
As we continue to navigate through the bustling slave market, we soon find ourselves back at the stall of a merchant I had spoken with before. This older man, with his gray-streaked hair and a face lined with the years of his trade, stands out slightly from the others in his demeanor.
He was the one trying to sell the so-called “premium” woman. She was advertised as being capable of fulfilling any job type- a claim that seemed dubious at best. Back then, her cost was a staggering 5 gold 35 silver. Now, she still stands there, exposed and vulnerable, her breasts left bare to the world.
The wooden placard hangs from a crude string around her neck, the price etched into the worn surface resting on top of her perky chest. But there is a change. Her price has been reduced to 4 gold and 99 silver, a clear sign of the merchant’s desperation.
She looks even more fragile and withdrawn than before, her eyes vacant and spirit visibly eroding. It’s clear that her mental health is deteriorating rapidly under these conditions, making her an unsellable asset to many.
This merchant might be the perfect target for our plan. I decide to approach the topic carefully. As I strike up a casual conversation with him, I tactfully steer the dialogue towards the possibility of obtaining a slave contract service. I inquire if he provides such services and how much they would cost.
He nods, confirming that he does indeed offer slave contract services, quoting his rates with a practiced nonchalance.
Naturally, I have no intention of paying. Bringing Blossom here would be a grave mistake, and even if I could get this guy to come to our inn room, we would still be legally required to pay Blossom’s market price besides his service fee.
Our plan is to follow him to his home and force him to do our bidding. Sadly the day is early, and I don’t suspect he will be gone until late evening, which leaves us with a lot of free time.
We leave the slave district, Ayame finally releasing my hand.
“What should we do? Check out the adventurer’s guild, visit the labyrinth, or go for our hidden stash? We will have to sort it out too after Blossom’s business is done… For the time being we can get the pouch you hid there with the greenskin coins in it.” I list our options.
“We have enough coins for now, I think clearing the labyrinth is the smartest. As for the first part, I’m honestly not sold on us being adventurers.”
“Same. We will need to deliberate on that one a bit longer. I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”
“Hmm?” She turns her head towards me.
“First of all, can you clarify to me the differences between the magic classes? Sorcerers, Mages and such.”