Chapter 8 – God, Angel, Mortal and Demon Enter a Bar..
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I took the final look at the remaining ownerless slaves’ statuses. While they were certainly interesting there must have been a reason they were not for sale.

I rang the bell.

The pair of slave servants entered almost immediately. They really were standing by the door to the room.

- Have sir decided? I have collected the profiles of every slave we have seen today.

I took the stack of papers from his hands. Information on them could be described as an impoverished status. Name, level, titles, race, max HP/MP, basic statistics and skills, visible wounds – basically everything low third level of Status Check would provide. There was also brief history of “employment”, character traits and brief summaries of their whole profile.

Browsing through papers I have noticed something peculiar.

- Why are the infirmary patients not present among those?

- I thought sir were joking. I sincerely apologize for my oversight. If needed I will go collect them immediately.

- No need. I already have my picks.

- Please tell me, which ones have caught sires eyes.

- That half-elf from infirmary is my first choice.

- Sir, she would be useless in combat with one hand.

- Could she not awaken as a mage? You know, she is a half-elf. Most of that race can learn to cast spells.

- Indeed, sir. That would still be a gamble with fate. A huge one at that.

- I realize.

- She would still need to be healed. Her total cost for you would be more than a beginner magician. I could recommend you to..

- Stop that please. Aren’t those healing magicks getting cheaper lately? Certainly it wouldn’t be a dent in my finances.

Shit. I bragged again for no reason. Now he will rip me off.

- Sorry sir. I will bring her immediately for another viewing.

Before leaving he rang his silent bell twice.

I sat there awkwardly in total silence with beautiful slave and even more beautiful archangel. Few minutes have passed.

I was tracking both the half-elf girl and that servant positions on minimap out of boredom.

It seems like the enterprise owner, the very miss Marielle, joined them. They walked into the room soon after.

First to walk in was Marielle dressed quite lavishly. If I hadn’t known better I would think she was a very high class lady of the night.

Next was the male slave servant and last was the half-elf. She was quite terrified unlike before. She limped forward trying to maintain her owner’s speed. I did not notice that her left leg was lame among her many injuries.

I decided to joke.

- You haven’t shown me that one before. I am afraid I might not be able to afford such a high class lady.

She was stunned for a moment, but quickly recovered. An experienced merchant of living goods.

She laughed so wholeheartedly beautiful, that if I were not aware of her trade I might really have asked to have her wrapped and take her home.

- Dear could make a career as a minstrel. If you ever find yourself in dire straits do not hesitate. I would love to own such a fine and humorous man.

Brr. Shiver run through my back.

Mortals on Thrope truly are very bold. I am your god, ya know?

I would sooner use gold coins as a projectile to shoot such ideas out of that pretty little head..

I guess that makes me quite a hypocrite to buy a slave for myself.

- As your slave, miss..?

- Marielle, the proprietor of “The Helping Hands”.

- No surname?

Her surname displayed on the status board was “Slaver”. Marielle Slaver. I guess it was more of a job-thing.

- I am no noble. Are you?

I made a dramatic pause.

- Ah, sorry. I have not given you my name.

The name I have picked for my adventurer career was ‘Lynx’. Apparently naming yourself after animals or monsters was a common practice among adventurers.

- I am known as Lynx of Krark. An adventurer by trade and certainly no noble either. Pleasure to meet you, lady Marielle.

Krark was a city near a dungeon that I took from minimap to collaborate my story of stepping into a teleport trap. The city was located in a neighboring country, pretty far away.

- And I am Armaediael, an archangel of the Lord of Thrope – added Archie, but no one other than me, have heard her words.

I guess she was trying to remind me of her presence. Maybe she was angry I used her nickname that time instead of her full name?

Her spell mantle was still holding. I glanced at my half-demon but she was not showing any sign of detecting her presence.

- Likewise, mister Lynx. Do you find this establishment hospitality appropriate? Can I offer you anything to drink? – she asked while gesturing towards the table.

- No, thank you. Could we cut to price negotiations?

- How rapt! Of course. You adventurers are quite hot-blooded through most of your short lives.

It wasn’t that I was simply hot-blooded. I was never very good at social interactions and talking amiably with a slaver was very taxing. I felt disgusted in my hypocritical way.

- Still, I want to ask. This Elfin here will cost you only 7 keshes (7 small silvers), but to heal her and teach her as well as many other upkeep costs will certainly ruin your purse. May I propose choosing another slave?

So the name of the slave girl was Elfin. Duh, she was an elf named Elfin. I, of course new that already from her status screen, but would not believe it.

- I was shown to others already, wasn’t I? I have money to burn. Investing in a reliable party-mate is ideal choice for a sell-sword like me.

I think I saw Elfin flinch a little at my words.

- Alright. I will refrain from further discussion. Is Elfin your first slave?

- Yes, indeed.

- Are you aware about the laws, what you can do and what you can’t?

- Not really, no – I admitted.

What followed was a litany of boredom.

Basically maiming a slave or killing one is not permitted. Though it is often overlooked by law enforcement, she advised against breaking this law.

Slave’s children are slaves by default if not by device. Even if one of the parents is a free man or woman. Owner is responsible to raise them until they are sixteen. On curious note, owner can sell a toddler, but “looking after” would then be simply transferred to the new owner.

Device used for controlling them was a collar, commonly called “slave collar” (sic!), which was imbued with spells that forced obedience. Those spells varied between countries and individual slavers. Collars were usually protected from destruction.

While wearing the collar a slave would be forced to follow all commands of the master.

I hope I never become a sadist. Living under a sadistic god would be awful.

Kind of reminds me of home.

Slaves came from several backgrounds, but they all had to obey the orders and couldn’t chose work they must perform.

Overworking a slave to death was not unheard of albeit looked down upon and sometimes punished.

It was okay to bring a slave to a dungeon or other adventuring work, but they could not be directly registered as adventurers.

They couldn’t say no to doing night duties at least according to law. Her smile was especially lecherous the moment she mentioned that.

During her monologue I interrupted her only once. I asked whether Elfin could sit instead of standing. She ordered her to do so. Little elf looked grateful and less scared. Standing with only one fully working leg must have been a major pain.

I noticed the still standing male slave give her an envious look. Tough life boy, your legs work fine. The female slave was still trying her utmost to please me by my side, so she was already sitting.

The archangel moved around Elfin observing her closely.

I was asked if I needed any accessories. I asked for a set of work and living clothes. There was no maid clothes option available for purchase. Maybe I needed to level up my slave to unlock it?

Anyway the living clothes were uncommon request so I would have to wait and pick them later. I did not have an address on Thrope yet so they could not deliver them.

The male slave went and brought a  very coarse hemp robes.

- Would you like to get a book with more detailed slavery laws od Kingdom of Velia?

- Hmmm. That would be useful. Please attach it to the price.

- It will be one more small silver then.

That’s quite cheap. I have checked and paper was quite rare in Ythall. The book was not printed either. I wondered why the press had not proliferated throughout Thrope. It was really easy to make one. I was really embarrassed for the previous summoned reincarnations’ incompetence. Though producing modern paper was also beyond me.

- Isn’t it too cheap a price for such a thick booklet?

- It were slaves that wrote it.

Well, that explains it.

I asked whether the work clothes would include a pair of shoes and some underwear. Apparently it would not. I asked to include them, of course.

- The total would be 9 keshes and 80 monies. After a discount 9 small silver and 3 large bronzes. Would you like to do some last minute inspection of purchased merchandise?

- Yes, actually yes, please. Can I ask everyone else to leave us alone though? I would like to speak with miss Elfin alone.

The slaver lady hesitated.

- Please do not misunderstand me. Do you have the money on you for the quoted price?

I took out a single small gold coin and put it on the table. Initially I wanted to take out silvers and ostentatiously put them out one by one. Alas. In my purse I did not have enough small or large silvers. I would have to teleport coins one by one. Acting cool and tough lost to my laziness.

She glanced with a hint of greed and announced.

- We are leaving. Call the bell when you are finished. Enjoy.

“Enjoy what?” I thought to myself.

Male servant left his bell on the table and left with everyone else.

When we were finally alone Elfin trembled.

I glanced at Archie and she gave me an OK sign. So Earthlings.. you have introduced an OK sign, but failed with any other thing that could actually be useful.

OK.

- Little one, please stand up and come closer.

She tried to do just that with mixed results. I decided it was ungentlemanly of me and came closer on my own. If the mountain will not come to the prophet, then prophet must go to the mountain, I guess.

- Sorry about that. I forgot about your injured leg.

I sat on the floor in front of her. She smelled even more terribly up close. It was nauseating.

Up close her face was a little bit darker. No, wait. She simply blushed.

What are you expecting of me, you silly girl?

- I should mention that miss Marielle is probably listening to us speak right now. Nevertheless. Just be careful to not say something.. unnecessary.

- Yes.. m-hmaster?

- I am not your master yet. Just call me Lynx. I basically wanted to ask you a few things. Most important of which – are you okay with being bought by me?

- I don’t have a say in that, sir.

- I know it is a weird question. Let’s say you do have.

- Ah, but..

- Please answer.

- I am an useless slave. Marielle is a good and kind mistress, but she might get rid of me anytime.

She did not strike me as kind. Little half-elf must have noticed my confusion and spoke further:

- Mistress allowed me to recover after the fire that took my limb and eye. I was even taught how to write and wrote a book for mistress.

She raised her stump in the direction of the table. Ah, so the booklet was written by her. Beautiful calligraphy that filled it wasn’t exactly easy to learn.

- Have you written that Elfin?

- No, but I wrote similar one.

BEEEEEPPP. A miss.

- Interesting. Can you also read the language?

- Of course, ma.. mister Lynx.

- Well. We are going to delve into the dungeon and do some adventuring on the side. Obviously after you have been healed. Are you okay with combat?

- I have no training nor experience.

- But, you do have talent for that, don’t ya?

- What is mister Lynx saying? I am a weak invalid. Mister is overpaying for me.

Now I knew she was hiding something. Up to the point she would risk remaining an invalid in the shop’s care.

- Maybe it truly is above the market price. I do not know them anyway. Still you shouldn’t say anything like that until the transaction is over. The fact remains that there is huge unrealized potential within you.

And quite literally in fact.

- Do you know any magic?

- No, sire.

She reverted back to that. God gracious, me. Was she lying or simply did not know?

Archie was crossing her fingers.

I decided to check her bluff. After all the status screens do not lie. Usually.

- I think you would make a truly extraordinary fire mage.

The fear showed in her eyes. Again she started to tremble.

So that previously, was clearly, a lie. She must have known about her magical abilities, yet hid them from her owner. I decided to leave it at that for now. No reason to raise the selling price.

- You realize, that, if Marielle knew.. you had the talent.. she would have healed you and treated you better?

- Yes, but I do not have a talent in the Arts, sir.

- If you say so. I might have been mistaken.

I took a sip of some isekaish fruit juice to wet my dry throat.

- Do you know your parents?

- No, sire.

My archangel confirmed she was stating truth.

- No clue at all?

- They must have sold me or were slaves themselves. They could also be dead. I have been a slave since birth, sire.

- So one of them was an elf and the other..?

- Human, sire. I am a half-elf bastard.

Again she was telling (her version of) the truth.

I became even sadder than after seeing her in the infirmary. She was most probably a rape child, if my mental image of demons was correct.

- Once we leave through this door I expect you to watch my back. I will watch yours. There must be an absolute trust between us. You will not lie to me. I will also trust you with many of my secrets with exception of those I cannot share.

I paused for that dramatic effect while pointing towards the door.

- If that is okay for you, then join me Elfin! Hold my hand if you want to leave! This slave shop that is.

I reached out to her with my right hand, then quickly switched the hands. Finally she shook my hand.

- Yes, mister Lynx.

- Your grasp lacks sincerity. Do it harder!

- Yes! – she meekly shouted.

She used more strength, while my other subordinate was clearly embarrassed by her boss. I simply smiled.

- If you have questions I hope they can wait till we leave the premises of this “shop”.

She did not add anything. A gentle smile crept up her face, but quickly disappeared. Maybe she felt smiling was inappropriate?

I rang that silent bell a few times and sat back at the table.

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