Chapter 3

Ariel decided that since she was actually going to do this, she was going to record it. She was nervous doing that: intimate recordings could potentially get shared. But David would enjoy being able to relive the experience, and she trusted her ability to keep the experience private. Well, at least until she decided there was someone she wanted to share it with.

Other people might be recording too. That was frightening. But unless she gave permission, her part would be blurred in their recordings. That would have to be enough.

Ariel started her recording and trailed Hulda as she approached the dwarf.

“Craftmaster,” Hulda said, “I’m real sorry, but we’re gonna need that seat. I’d be honored to make it up to ya up stairs later. No charge, o’course.”

The craftmaster’s voice was gruff and surly. “For the immortal?”

“Yes but—”

“We have all had enough! By my clan’s axes, I shall take no more of immortals demanding special treatment in our homes—in our lives! To pressure a whore no less! Where is your guild at your time of need!” the dwarf bellowed.

Ariel had no idea what she had gotten herself into. She pulled up her inventory and began equipping armor. Things didn’t look good: master craftsmen couldn’t be much less than level 35. Almost any level 35 person could mop the floor with Ariel without breaking a sweat. She wasn’t going to draw a weapon until it was hopeless. But perhaps armor would give her a chance to run if somehow she could avoid being the direct target.

Hulda dropped to her knees and grabbed at the dwarf’s sleeve. “Master Greatax, I beg you! Ariel is not that kind of immortal.”

“This is not because she wishes a better seat?”

“Nay hardly! She’s my client. I want her on display. Ya know, like when younger Goody Greenbank came for woman?”

“Hulda,” Ariel said, “we could use another seat, or I could wait. I could come back tomorrow and get here early.”

Both Hulda and Master Greatax glared at Ariel.

“Now that there’s danger, you back down like a coward,” the craft master said.

Apparently, that had been the wrong thing for Greatax to say. Hulda was spitting mad; her rage seemed as boundless as the day she had thrown out the disrespectful immortal. Apparently a mad Hulda did not kneel nor beg. She stood and planted her hand firmly in Greatax’s chest.

Hulda and the dwarf were both about the same height; Ariel guessed just over 1.5 meters. But Greatax was all muscle and stocky. Hulda could budge the master craftsman as easily as she might move the wall of the Pig. The physical impossibility of the situation only served to stoke the flames of her ferocity. Ariel dared not let even the smallest bit of amusement show as Hulda ineffectually pushed at the dwarf.

“Ya and your clan might start a blood bath that’d have this district of Berg’s Keep in shambles. Ya will not,” she pounded against the wall of his chest for emphasis, “disrespect my client.”

Greatax’s chest expanded as he prepared to speak. Hulda stabbed at him with her finger. “Not done yet,” she said.

Hulda continued, “What ya think of me? That I’d let an immortal push me around? Nay! An thinkin I ain’t up to getting help from my guild I need it!”

“Goodwench Brown, I yes, well ... you know what it’s like better than I. I just didn’t want to see the Browns pushed around.”

“Aye! Know well enough, an we Browns’d be mighty proud of your ax it come to that. Might ya could wait til your asked stead of charging in?”

Greatax loosened as if a great spring had been unwound inside him; his shoulders relaxed, and he stood at ease. “Your client—this immortal—is treating you as you deserve?”

“Ariel? Aye! She’s a fun one. We’d be havin a right lusty time if some’d think with axes not at all an hold their swords til there’s a right wet hole to fill.”

Ariel blushed.

Craftmaster Greatax said “Then by my clan’s axes I owe an apology to you Goodwench Brown and to your client.” He looked expectantly at Hulda.

“Bold Ariel Pathtreader,” Hulda offered. Ariel was startled by the eponym. By custom, any immortal walking a path could claim Pathtreader. A prefix hinting at the path was also not uncommon. At level 30 she might proclaim herself Ariel Pathtreader when trying to make a statement. At 45, she might find insult in anyone who did not announce her such (assuming she did not find a greater title before then). To claim such a title now ... it was the height of arrogance. What was Hulda thinking?

Greatax raised an eye at Hulda. He turned to Ariel and bowed. “I’m deeply sorry Madam Ariel. I see that I have misjudged the situation seriously. I ask that you present this token of my esteem any time you are in my clan’s shop. Your seat, madam.” He cleared the seat he had been sitting at for Ariel.

“It is no trouble. I would be honored to visit your shop.”

Hulda said, “Thank ya Craftmaster. I’ll find ya when I’m ready to express that more personal up stairs.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I do not believe that shall be necessary. I think I’ve used up any credit I earned by jumping to conclusions tonight.”

“Nay, Master Greatax, I insist. I’ll find ya. Ya’ll come up with me until I’m done with ya.”

“What will you do?” Greatax’s voice did not stammer, but it was not as firm as it had been.

“We’ll have us a right good time, ya think? Want to pay ya proper for any inconvenience.”

“I see,” Greatax said, “I shall await your pleasure, Goodwench Brown.”

“Aye, thank ya.”

Craftmaster Greatax had departed. Ariel gratefully took his seat. She was shaking from the sudden transition from lust to fear at the dwarf’s outburst. If he had come after her, that would have been bad. With Hulda’s reaction she guessed it had been no idle threat.

Yet Hulda had stood up to the dwarf. Fuck, she was hot when she did that. Probably crazy, but definitely hot, especially because she had stepped in to defend Ariel.

Ariel consciously leaned back into the seat, trying to relax.

“Ya okay?” Hulda asked.

“I was surprised and scared. Give me a bit.”

“Aye that! Impetuous dwarf’s gonna make a right big mess some day.”

Hulda sighed. “Reckoned he had a little more sense though. Sorry ya got caught in that.”

“What was it even about?” Ariel asked.

“Some immortals think the world’s for them. Given orders, pushing ephemerals around, with no care for what we want.

“Greatax’s had it with being robbed an worse. A might too eager to see a fight needing to happen, that one.”

Ariel was silent. She had never focused on pillaging and attacking NPCs in her play, but the game did have quests and challenges for those who wanted to live on the dark side. While you probably could play always respecting laws of the towns you traveled through, she had not done that either. Sometimes, especially when doing a quest in an area not aligned with your faction, NPCs got in the way. Sometimes, NPCs had an item you really wanted. After all it was a game.

Yet each of those NPCs had their own feelings and fears. Each had their own desires, people who cared for them, and lives. Immortals who would simply come back to life in a few minutes if the NPC managed to get the upper hand had a lot less to fear. Mobs in the dungeons generally respawned. NPCs in the towns did not unless someone spent enough magic to resurrect them. Ariel would need to think more about this.

Ariel was puzzled by another item too. This was the second time the Whores Guild had been mentioned as a force of power. She had never considered whores as powerful. “Hulda?”

“Yeah?”

“Goody Brown said that whores in the guild could defend themselves against all comers. How does that work? I mean it’s not like whores gain skills and levels like a mage or warrior.”

“It ain’t? It’s exactly like that. Ya gained skills last night, didn’t ya?”

“okay, but it’s not like I can defeat an enemy by making out with them or through oral sex.”

“Ya master that an there’s a lot of influence ya get with a horny leader. Besides, whores got more than just the sex skills.”

“So, what special skills do you have?”

“I can smell your desire an how well I’m doing.” That would be useful, but it seemed kind of like a sex skill to Ariel.

“I’m not sure it took a skill to do that last night. But still, how does the guild defend itself?”

Hulda whispered in Ariel’s ear. “Imagine the anger of lovers discarded, cheated, and forced. Take that an form a magical artifact. Ya think anyone who harms a whore’d stand against one of those?” She continued in a normal voice. “Besides I ain’t but just a barmaid whoring on the side. A whore takes the magic of her body and join that with rogue or mage? Ya ain’t walking away from that except by her choice.”

“Oh, I hadn’t considered that combination.”

“Yeah. The best spies an negotiators’re all high level whores.

“Anyway, ya still game for our plan?” Hulda asked.

“Master Greatax broke my mood, but I’m starting to calm down.”

Hulda muttered, “If that dwarf’s done gotten between me an my client...”

“What exactly are you going to do to him up stairs? He seemed nervous.”

“O, aye, he did didn’t he?” Hulda laughed. “I’ll tell him how he gets a special time on account of how he treated ya.

“I’ll undress for him nice and slow. He’ll have questions; I shush them right quick. I ain’t spoiling a good surprise.

“I’ll strip him an rub all over. He likes a girl plastered all over him.”

“What’s the surprise?”

“Ain’t none,” Hulda cackled. “I bring him up slow as ya can. Use his nerves to draw it out. Pull him over the edge, an milk every last drop.”

Hulda continued, “He don’t know I’m milking him for ya. Not for that an I’d call us even: inconveniencing him for his tantrum. Right til the end, he’ll half expect me to take a price for his tantrum. Bet he ain’t never come hard as he’s gonna tonight!”