Quest Those for The Mines

[Elise Virak]

Cortosi Coast
Gal

Elise hated the coast.

It was wet, it was salty, and it was filthy. Her hair always frizzed this near to the ocean, and she couldn't help but think her clothes would get ruined one way or another. Even standing upon the small wooden platform she couldn't help but think some of the mud would land on her dress.

She hated that idea.

Women like her belonged in a palace surrounded by gold and wine.

One couldn't do business like this in a palace however, a fact that she was acutely aware of. Since the supposed deaths of her brothers Elise had been granted far more power in House Virak. A title, estates, and control of some of the Mines in the east.

They were valuable, and vital to her plans of retaking power within the city. She needed to ensure the Mines continued to pour with ore, a fact made difficult by the increasing amount of workers dying from exhaustion.

It was a bothersome thing, and why she was here now.

"They'll be here soon, Ma'am."
​

One of the guardsmen said as he road up on his horse, the armor that he usually wore covered in a black cloak. The man besides Elise leaned in and whispered something. "It will be fine, It's why I brought you."

Slavers were not the sort that could be trusted, but between four Guardsmen, a Dreadlord, and her own abilities she was confident things would turn out just fine.

 

[Gal]

They’d arrived a day early thanks to some favorable winds from the south. Maneuvering through the Cortosi was always a challenge, but one that Gal welcomed with open arms.

The call for a meeting was after first light, but the lack of trust went both ways between slavers and nobles, and so their longboat pulled ashore some hours previous. She’d had some men scout down along the coast, to scout out the lonely docks and the sole jetty that leaned half-drunk against a nearby rock.

When the lady and her entourage arrived, her people sent word, and they rowed out calm as can be on their little dinghy.

She kept silent as she stepped onto the wharf, and she kept silent as she moored the boat. Her boots creaked as she walked up to the blonde, flanked by two men on each side.

“G’day, ma’am,” came the southern drawl and a lopsided grin. “Onta’ bisnis, eh?”

 

[Elise Virak]

Could this trash even speak properly?

Her eyes glanced over Gal, taking the woman in as her lips twisted into half a sneer before she corrected the expression. Elise wanted to scream, having to be here herself instead of sending someone else on the errand was near humiliation. Unfortunately, for something like this a servant wouldn't have done.

Perhaps Miles would have been able, but he was off to the North dealing with one of the Minor Houses. It was annoying, but so few people could be trusted right now. The other families were watching them like hawks, and she could not afford a miss-step.

Not now. "Yes."

Elise said simply, her voice as dry as could be.

"I need slaves." The Baroness was not about to play around with words. If this was another Anirian she might have, if they were in the city she might have, but not here. Not with this...person. Elise had needs, and she needed those needs met.

"A steady supply." She explained. "Men, preferably."

Women never lasted long in the Mines.

 

[Gal]

Judging by the Nazrani’s expression, they might well have been conversing about the fair weather the southern winds had brought. Certainly not the exchange of living beings for money.

“Fo sho.”

If only she weren’t so enamored with gold.

“Wat kinda men ye want?”

If only rain hadn’t turned Ixchel into a merciless jungle.

“Soothern folk? Nordmen?”

If only nobles weren’t so keen to see others fight their wars.

“An’ when?”

If only the world were different.

 

[Elise Virak]

"I don't care about the particulars." She said flatly.

Elise wasn't aiming to turn these men into soldiers or anything silly of that sort. House Virak already controlled the most Anirian Guard out of any of the Major Houses, not to mention the Dreadlords they held between their sway. Slave soldiers were a thing of the past.

At least for House Virak. "They are to work the mines."

She thought for a moment and then continued.

"I need them in suitable condition for such work." Her fingers brushed her lips in consideration, then she waved to the man besides her. "As soon as possible."

The Dreadlord stepped towards Gal in his high collared coat, pulling out a bag of coins from his belt and tossing it over towards the pirate. Inside Gal would find Allirian Gold Crowns, each marked with a visage of the trade city.

 

[Gal]

Gal caught the bag with one hand, eyes never leaving the prim baroness nor her well-dressed underling. The heft of the coins pleased her, but the blonde was trouble regardless. The spoiled nobs always were.

“Cont’eli,” she said sharply to the pirate on her left. Utter silence reigned as the quartermaster counted the gold pieces, stamped by the Allirian mint on one side and the crown of the Merchant council on the other.

“E ben’.”

“S’siggur’ se ne-ente falesse?”

When Cerano nodded again, Gal tilted her head to the side and finally smiled at the irritating bitch. “Where you want dem delivert? ‘Ere or summwhere else?”

 

[Elise Virak]

That voice grated on her.

If there was no need for the woman's service she would have her executed simply for not being able to speak proper common. It was in a way almost disgusting. Like the culture had been bred from her at an early age.

Primitives. Elise thought to herself. Her brother would likely have reminded her that not everyone grew up with the same privilege and education as her, but what good was that if you couldn't lord it over people? Her lips thinned slightly, golden eyes settling on the pirate as she took a deep breath.

Better not say anything.

"Alfalis." A port to the north of where they were now, one entirely controlled by House Virak and closer to the mines. "Bring them there...discreetly."

Would that even be in the woman's vocabulary? She doubted it.

 

[Gal]

It wasn’t, as a matter of fact. But that’s what her escort was for – algebra and linguistics, a pirate’s best friends.

She tilted an expectant head at Cerano. The older Mantessan scratched at his graying beard and spat a wad of chewed tobacco on the pier. “Signifiq sottil’.”

Her face brightened up. She had half a mind to wink her understanding, but she suspected the blonde had a marlingspike so far up her arse that she wouldn’t appreciate the humor.

Just as well.

“Alfallo it is. Need da neym o’ yer man dere. Fo’ mooring permesse.”

 

[Elise Virak]

For a few seconds Elise attempted to puzzle out what the guttural little sprite was attempting to say to her. It was often so difficult with these peasants. Their tongues were tied into themselves, and attempting any level of understand was enough to cause a migraine or two.

Her lips thinned, and for a second she glanced towards the Dreadlord who stood at her side.

"His name is Nielvick."
​

The Dreadlord's tone was even, neutral as could be, but by the effort on his face it was clear that he was trying not to show a hint of amusement at Elise's frustration. The man was undoubtedly loyal, intelligent, but he had a habit of pushing things a tad...too far. She would have to make sure it wouldn't become a habit.

Freedom was all well and good, as long as it didn't get in the way.

"See it done quickly." Elise added. "And quietly."

 

[Gal]

“Afcoors,” she sing-songed, black eyes glinting with the rising sun. The harbor would come alive soon – already there were returning fishermen on the horizon, bringing in their haul for the day to start. It was, in a word, time to go.

“Se ne te vedit’ piu, sarra trop’ preste,” Gal said with an exaggerated bow, leaving Cerano to translate as she stalked off towards their boat.

“She wishes you good fortune and safe travels, m’lady.”

He didn’t stick around to see if any of them could scrape together some passing Mantessant’.

 

[Elise Virak]

Elise very much doubted that the woman wished her anything of the sort.

Uncouth Pirate scum.

Briefly she wondered why she had not just sent her own ships to complete the task, but of course she knew why. The Others would know, her father would find out, and then she would have to reveal another piece of her plan to someone else. That wouldn't do.

Not now.

She was moving beyond house Virak, beyond what her siblings had been meant for and beyond what her Father intended for her. Elise was to be her own woman, her own power.

With that thought ended, she turned and left. Her guard following behind her.

 

[Gal]

On a good day Alfalis – or Alfallo, or Al-Falloum, depending on who you asked – bustled with activity.

But it wasn’t a good day.

Winter was fast approaching on the wings of Autumn, and though the Cortosi saw little of the season in person, it felt well its consequences nonetheless.

The storms raging around the Spear reached their full power this time of year. As if shepherded to the cape by a vengeful sea spirit, the black clouds huddled above the peninsula and didn’t budge one inch until spring winds blew them back north.

Trade from Alliria slowed down to the trickle of a leaky bucket. Few were the merchants willing to go the long way through the strait, but fewer still were those with the bollocks to round the Spear in winter.

Cortosi, on the other hand, traded happily. When Alliria went quiet, their business boomed. Those wily enough to stockpile rare goods could sell them for egregious amounts of docatte to satisfy the cravings of this lady or that gentleman. Life would be good—

in another month, that is. Winter was but a specter on the southern horizon, and so Alfallo slumbered a sleep well-earned.

Through this quietude cut the sound of an approaching boat. Waves rippled and kissed up against the wharves before dissipating in a film of foam. A lazy fog crawled just above the calm surface of the harbor, trailing the figures as they climbed onto the pier like a bridal veil.

Gal peered through the milky haze with a faint frown. The waters near Alfallo were a headache to navigate even without the mists that lurked about before the dawn chased them away.

“Cerano. Go find Nielvick.”

 

[Elise Virak]

There was a reason Elise had chosen this place.

Vel Anir was a city-state, not a nation. Though in times passed it could have claimed to be, there was a certain benefit in keeping it this way. There were no borders to protect, not really, but instead many towns, villages, and even small cities swore Allegiance to one of the Great Houses.

It kept things stable, and also kept the King from claiming any sovereign power from the people. In truth, Vel Anir could have claimed itself a Kingdom within a heartbeat, but none of the Houses wanted it this way.

At least not yet.

Alfallo was one of the towns that swore complete Allegiance to house Virak. It was used as a port for her families mines, seeing a constant tirade of barges laden with ores and smelted metal. No one in this town would speak of her presence here, the control and fear was too strong.

So she sat, and quietly waited in the manor they kept within the cities limits.

 

[Gal]

“Ah! And you must be the lady pirate Goyrith mentioned!”

“Quiet!” hissed Cerano as he grabbed the balding man by his tunic until the narrow collar choked off his noises of protest. “Will you fucking shut up? We ain’t brought fucking flowers for your lady.”

Gal raised an unimpressed eyebrow at the scene. With a gesture she bid Cerano release the clerk, who hastened to right the spectacles thrown askew in the scramble. “Well, I’ll be—”

“Quiet.”

“Yes, yes,” he hushed his tone and dabbed the sweat off his gleaming head. “It’s not quite the introduction I was hoping for. Lady pirate, a man imagines all kinds of things, you understand…”

“Wat kinds o’ tings?”

“A– ah.” He cleared his throat, hazel eyes flicking from Gal to Cerano and back again. “Well, you know…”

“Ah don’. Regeyl me.”

“I assure you, ma’am, there’s no need for that. Please, why don’t you go inside with me so that we can com—”

“Ah’m ne goin’ newhere. Yer ta’ grant os free dockin’ an’ das it.”

Nielvick stood there a few moments more, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. Cerano began cleaning his nails with the tip of a gutting knife. The clerk found his voice. “Ah, yes, of course. I’ll… the fourth berth, that’s right there, should be open… for the morning at least. Yes. Will that—”

Gal was already marching off, back to the boat, back to the ship. She’d not come bearing exotic bouquets, no.

Only exotic men to die in Virak mines.

 

[Elise Virak]

A missive was of course sent to Elise.

The town was hers, or rather, her fathers, but those in charge knew to fetch her when the time was at hand. With an absent mind she waved to one of the Dreadlord's that had come with her on this little venture. The man was stoic, but best of all he knew how to keep a secret.

Once he had trained her brothers, watched over them, but after their betrayal his decision had been to follow her. Father had been upset of course, wanting the man to keep serving him, but he saw Elise for what she was.

A visionary.

"We'll go meet the...pirate." Ugh, disgusting creature.

She was not looking forward to hearing that guttural tone again.

 

[Gal]

Neither was Gal looking forward to hearing those stuffy tones again, and yet here they were, the both of them drawn together by nothing more than greed.

Cerano stood at her side again, the rest of the crew busy preparing the shipment of slaves. They wouldn’t actually hand them over until the other half of the payment was safely in her coffers. Gal never had any kind of private tutors, but it didn’t mean she was stupid.

This was business, and business worked the same whether it was two paupers or two archdukes making a deal.

“Da coin.”

 

[Elise Virak]

Elise waved towards the Dreadlord.

The man hesitated for half a second.

They had talked briefly about slaughtering the pirates when this was done. It would have been easy enough really, they were in a town controlled by Elise and it wasn't like she would have to justify killing pirates. They were outlaws.

In the end though she had thought better of it.

What if she needed more slaves? There was no doubt that in a few weeks time exactly that would be the case. The mines wore a person down faster than combat in the Falwood. Men and women alike died quickly when inhaling noxious fumes during back breaking labor.

"There." She said in that same haughty tone of voice, the Dreadlord placing a heavy chest onto the ground.

 

[Gal]

At the motion of her hand, Cerano pried open the chest and went about assessing its contents. There were too many Allirian Crowns to count this time, the wood practically bursting from the weight of the gold. Well-used to trickery, the quartermaster delved deep instead, palming the coins at the bottom to see whether they were gold – and indeed coins at all.

“E ben’,” he grunted, rising back to his feet. Gal nodded to the blonde, eager to see the transaction concluded as swiftly as they could drag bound men from the ship. In the heart of enemy territory was hardly her favorite place to be.

“Portelo su nave,” she spoke in clipped tones with the mute pirates at her back. “E dallo qe la signora volet’.”

Hand resting on her cutlass, Gal looked on as the first slaves were brought down the plank for the baroness to inspect.

“Is ta’ yer liking, ma’am?”

 

[Elise Virak]

Golden eyes flickered over the slave, her lips thinning as she observed the man. He was large, large enough to work in the mines, though it was clear he hadn't been fed in a few days.

Not that it mattered much.

She was sure that every single person within the hold of Gal's ship would fade from life over the next few days. Someone else might have found that abhorrent, but for Elise they were simply fuel for her cause. She smiled, barely, but it was a smile.

Things were going her way. "They will do."

As long as the rest were like this.

She had no use for the emaciated and broken. The slaves she wanted needed to work, and then die. The resources they harvested would feed her armies, and their souls would be reaped into the Well that fed her magic.

"I will need the number again." She hated dealing with pirates, this one in particular, but her cause must be fulfilled. "Monthly."

 

[Gal]

Black brows went up. “Monthly?”

She scoffed and exchanged a long glance with Cerano. The woman clearly had no clue how slaves were acquired, but then nobles rarely knew what went on beyond their nose.

“Dis can be don’. But it not easy to faynd strong men, so many, so…”

“Frequently,” Cerano supplied, and Gal nodded.

“Prays will go op if ye want every month.”

If it meant more risks for her crew, she’d damn well demand a better reward.

 

[Elise Virak]

Money was no object to someone like Elise.

Over the centuries House Virak had gathered more wealth than they knew what to do with. They held vault after vault filled with Gold, Silver, and even platinum. They mined every kind of ore from iron to alum, and the fields they sowed reaped cash crops that were popular all over Arethil.

They were rich, fantastically so. It didn't matter if this pirate charged an exorbitant amount of money for what she asked, Elise had gold aplenty.

Even if her mines operated at a loss it didn't much matter. These slaves were not mining gold, no. They were there as fodder for her power, as a way to gather iron and bring arms to her ever expanding army. Not to earn her a profit. "Very well."

She said with a dismissive wave.

 

[Gal]

Black eyes narrowed at the ease with which the blonde acquiesced. She’d expected to fight for more gold, to barter and haggle over the price until they reached a middle ground that satisfied neither, but left neither wanting either.

Even as her hackles raised with suspicion, Gal nodded – once, sharp and quick. “Gud. New men wit new month den.”

At the twirl of her hand, the pirates began filing back onto the ship, leaving naught but rows upon rows of chained men on the pier as their parting gift.

 

[Elise Virak]

Elise motioned to the Dreadlord on her left.

The Slaves would be collected, taken to wagons, and then eventually transported to her mines. There they would work and eventually die.

It was not a pleasant thought, nor was it right, but it was their fate. Vel Anir would have a new power, it needed one, and Elise intended to be it. No more of the Great Houses, no more infighting, no more vying for power among scurrying nobles who wanted nothing but for themselves.

She would rule.

It was the thought that floated across her mine, the thought that brought a smile to her face as she turned and headed back to her manor.