Boring.

Boring boring boring.

Boooooooriiiiiing…

Train rides are boring.  Normally you’d read a book or play games on your phone.

But you forgot to bring a book from Haven, and a pretty goblin summoning a book out of nowhere is a bit obvious.  There’s no books or spare magazines on the train. And smartphones aren't a thing here.

Talking with others would be fine…

Except you’re not sure you can slip in innuendos every few seconds. And you can’t masturbate to pass the time because the conductors switch shifts to talk with the passengers.

While Smokey and Rails are fine, upstanding men, you can only engage in pleasant conversation. You’re headed for the center of Prillia, so you can’t risk tipping anybody off by breaking the powerful spell on more people.

You are Quinn, bored out of your mind. You’re regretting you didn’t save at least one book to occupy yourself with. Not just your original body, but Mayor Corruption and Rusty’s bodies are going through mind-numbing boredom through documents or number-crunching.

Taking a break in Haven is out of the question; you’d probably be left on the train tracks if you teleported there.

Or not, considering planetary motion…

But now’s not the time to test the space-binding limits of trans-planal travel. It’s only when midnight passes that something happens.

 

Be Rusty.

A.k.a. Rumpelstiltskin.

You’re smirking at the sight before you. An imp is staring at you from his summoning circle. You’d set up summoning circles a lot earlier for your demons.

Super simple ones, easily accessible.  Pentagram in bodily fluids, that’s it. You’ve successfully summoned Tropo, the one you were aiming for. Seems like the size of the circle and clear thoughts about your intended target help focus the spell.

That isn’t what has got you smirking like you’d struck gold. It’s the two ruby vials you’d left on his neck.

 The ring was delivered earlier, and you’ve already made a giant pool of water in the basement that you floated a massive magnet underneath a floating section. End result: A portal that faces the proper cardinal directions wherever Nancy’s Tavern goes.

It was a bit difficult to explain to your escorts why you needed them to do their thing in a circle, but in the end, you got your portal working. It was a lot easier done than you thought it would be. There were a lot of questions, but you brushed them off saying it was a business opportunity.

 There were some curious glances, but your strategies thus far have not failed them; Your employees buying rounds in nearby taverns, a few walking around in public in lingerie holding a sign, and a brave few even fucking in public.

 You’ve pretty much become one of the more successful brothels in the East end of Nancy’s Tavern overnight. Which isn’t saying much since there’s a revolving door of harem-seeking pimps throughout the east end.

 This is going to change things further and get you in the big leagues. You’ve got control not only over a source of drugs, but a way into Prillia. You marvel at the extra vial in your claw. The milk within moves about as you shake it slightly.

 You take the stairs back up to the main floor of the brothel and carefully use a dropper. This is your milk. A drop in the incense and three in the free mead barrel should increase the mood somewhat. Chortling as you notice your employees and a few customers perking up after a few minutes, you make your way back to your office and wait for the results to show.

 Now if only your main body could get to the train station so you can properly delegate duties of the trade route you’ve created. And work on Check.

Speaking of…

 

“And it seems like we’re firmly in the black. Mr. Rumpelstiltskin, your strategies, although strange, are quite efficient. Reeta is quite happy working in advertising.”

Good thing for exhibitionists.

“Thank you, Check. Anything else you guys have to report?” You look at Hwala and Opal.

“Other than an odd increase in activity ever since you finished your project, nothing much has happened. Everyone’s pretty happy.” Opal shrugs.

“The escorts are quite satisfied. There have only been two incidents in the past couple days, and they were easily solved with a glare.”

You nod and look over the numbers. You’ve got more than enough to pay for everything you need by the end of the month. But experience has taught you this period could make or break any company.

You’ve got to strike while the iron is hot. Either expand your current place by buying the next door or get another location. Basically, become either the fine dining or the McDonald’s of serving dick and pussy.

 “I’m going to go out and see if there’s anything I can buy anything for House of Temptation.”

They look at you and then at each other.

“Don’t you want something for yourself?” Check asks. “For an individual, ten small gold coins is a lot, but it won’t help much for a company.”

 “I know, but I want to make sure the company is secure before I frivolously spend. I don’t plan on using everything we have anyways.”

You leave the brothel and head through the darkened streets as dawn’s light basks everything in a red glow. Asking the closest neighbor how much he wants for his own brothel gets you a look of hope masked by a nonchalant attitude.

He’s pretty desperate.

He must be one of those guys Madame Baiser told you about. His payment must due soon, because he’s panicking, but he’s got a good poker face.

Unfortunately for him, you’re literally a demon. You’ll let him stew for a while by saying you’ll consider it and walking away. Lucky for you that whoever built one brothel right next to the other wasn’t aware of the severe consequences of competition.

Hopefully there’s another desperate idiot on the other side of the red-light district. You take the long way around to see if there’s anything in the shops. Ignoring the people following you ‘discretely’, you go through the market just as the shift changes.

 Less legitimate sellers pack up and go back to whatever hole they crawled out of while merchants begin to sell more reliable goods in their place. Funny how the sun rises and you can find higher quality drugs and alcohol than you did at night. Sailors start getting off their airships and meander about. People aren’t awake just yet, so it’s still quite as the bustle in the wooden streets slowly starts to grow.

A striped in a dark shawl catches your eyes. She packing up a variety of trinkets and insignificant baubles. She has a book that bleeds demonic energy. You make your way over to her and point towards the book.

 “What’s that book all about?”

“’Tis a book on how to summon demons. My tribe has long since protected such things, but has been eradicated by a rogue shaman. I’ve decided to start rebuilding a clan dedicated to demons. Are you interested?”

  “A little bit. Can I skim through the book?”

She passes the book to you, but keeps her hands close. Leafing through the pages, you get the general gist.

The general gist is far too complicated to be a general gist.

To summarize: Demons are from Niflheim, and most lack souls. Wrong in both cases for you, but whatever, this about the native demons you’ve seen a bit of.

To summon one, a buttload of stuff is required; Ritual sacrifices, cardinal directions, constellations, a degree in geometric math.  And rules, lots of rules.

Now you know a bit more about the native demons. You hand the book back to the people and smile.

“We’ll be in touch.”

Walking back to the red light district you keep your eyes peeled until you find your mark. Negotiating is easy, since he’s about to be shaken down by some loan sharks. Luckily for you, paying off the rest of the harpy’s debt only costs you four small gold. Of course, now he owes you, but you get him to adopt your policies and change the name of his brothel to House of Temptation.

He nervously agrees, and you beam as he squirms. He knows you know he has more debts, and unless he wants to become a slave, he has to stick with you. Good thing you brought a prepared contract with you solely for this purpose.

Although you do wish it was a magical contract, it should be enough to get your money should he decide to steal from you.

You now own a chain.

Neat.

And things are just starting up in Hacksonville, too!

 

You are Rampant Corruption.

Wearing a snazzy editor’s cap, sunglasses, and a T-Shirt that says ‘Top Dorf’. Not really in character for Rampant, but neither is abandoning her political career to own a publishing house.

Someone wants to meet with you.

 “Detective Detective, how nice to see you. How are you doing?”

She frowns and pulls up yesterday’s paper.

“The trip here was slower than molasses, my own thoughts drumming on me like the seasonal rain on a tin roof. ‘What is this?’ I asked, holding up the newspaper emblazoned with the former mayor’s eerie smile.”

 “That? I like to call it bait. A bit of a cheap way to grab the reader’s attention, but it works and it gets the news out.”

“I grumbled at her deflection. She may be playing dumb, but she’s smiling like a cat that ate the fish right out of the bowl. This woman, trickier and more venomous than a snake, and twice as heartless, has always been a thorn in my side. One part of me is happy she’s no longer as powerful in this den of thieves and outlaws, but another part of me is uneasy…she gave up most of her assets beforhand, and is now living on her salary. Completely unlike the Rampant that I know and hate. But where did the money go? Why is she doing this? The entire city is in chaos at her move, but only she seems to know what’s going to happen. ‘That’s not what I mean.’ I said, bringing the paper closer to her face. ‘Why did you quit?’”

I leaned back in my chair, allowing my smile to dim a bit. Detective may be a bit eccentric, but she knows how to dig deep.

You wonder if she’d be a good lay…

Your track record with Lawful Goods isn’t so up to par.

 “I don’t know what to tell you, Detective. I guess it could be a variety of factors. A couple days ago, a woman by the name of Quinn came in and presented some damning evidence against an individual. An individual we both trusted.”

“My eyes widened. An individual we both trusted? There could only be one. The one the slimy mayor insisted on me hiring because she was a family friend. As much as I hate the dark and foul practices of corruption like nepotism, I couldn’t exactly refuse. I compromised and found a well-meaning, clumsy woman by the name of Tray Torrent as a deputy. And the girl grew on me. She disappeared recently and wasn’t with the others that came back. It turns out…you can’t trust anybody in this filthy city of sin…”

Wow, that hit her hard.

 “Yes, it was Tray. We are equally responsible for this. Quinn came to me after she freed those people. Tray Torrent escaped, when the mastermind was, well, we don’t exactly know what happened to the one known as ‘Paradox’.”

“My suspicions confirmed, I hung my head. It was indeed all connected. And at the center of it all were the two opposing forces: The metal abomination, Paradox, and the beautiful mystery woman, Quinn. But the testimonies of all those who came back were jumbled, inconsistent. Reports from the mines did find traces of boxes containing non-tradable goods, but they were burnt to nothingness. And while Quinn did cure them of their afflictions, there were reports of advanced shadow magic. Not to mention the disappearance of Paradox and the citizens that decided to stay with Quinn…Which is strange since she left on the train. Alone. This enigma is one that has been purposefully shrouded by so many people, it feels as if I’m the only one not involved. And I hate not being invited.”

You looked over to the clock and cleared your throat to get Detective Detective’s attention.

 “I hope you understand that what I did was nothing more than a way to atone for my mistakes. I gave most of my money to Quinn and the citizens who followed her as reparations. They simply took an earlier train, shrouded by a spell. This city…has some bad memories for them. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a meeting with my investors.”

You escort Detective Detective downstairs and wave as she walks out of the building. You smile at the receptionist and climb into the basement. The portal casts a faint red light on a dozen people waiting for you.

Three of them stand in front of the others.

The dons.

“Nice to see you’ve answered my summons. I know you’re surprised at the sight behind me. This is an opportunity for you. All three of you.”

“With all due respect, Rampant. Why aren’t you just giving it to my gang? We share the same benefactor, after all.”

The leader of the Purity Front, Righteous Glory, is another elf with connections to the capital. Racism is alive and strong in Prillia, despite the tenets of equality. You smirk and shake your head. Maybe you’re biased because you like your goblin form, but you don’t really like the edge of snootiness in his voice.

 “Ex-benefactor. I’ve decided to pave my own path. Consider it…enlightenment. And may I congratulate Steel Gears of the Storm gang for taking advantage of the chaos and becoming a prominent player in such a short amount of time. Accepting all races in your gang seems to have helped you against both older gangs.”

“Thank you for giving us the opportunity.” The goblin bows his head. Steelpunk is the most shabbily dressed of the dons, his eyes shifting suspiciously towards his rivals.

Polite for a so called ‘anarchist’.

“And finally, the only other woman in here, Ivy of the Orchid Family. I apologize for butting heads with you so much in the past, but I was not a free woman then. I hope we can move past it.”

Ivy, like Rampant, is a dwarf. Unlike Rampant, Ivy is significantly more delicate, with long green hair done up in an elaborate braid that wrapped around her head and past her shoulder blades. Despite her almost childish figure, her body is magically potent. A skilled sorceress.

“The past is the past. I wasn’t quite convinced when you first sent me the message, but you quit, showing me that you’ve got something planned. Now, why don’t you show us what this is?”

 “This, my friends, is a portal to another plane.” You laughed and turned around.

There were less gasps and more stepping back in surprise. The dons reassessed themselves and stood straighter whereas their bodyguards got closer.

 “A plane that not only has crops of hallucinogens, but also aphrodisiacs and alcohol. Not to mention, another portal to outside of Prillia. Directly to Nancy’s Tavern, a pirate meeting ground for those who don’t know.”

“This is…” Righteous can’t find his words.

 “An unbelievable opportunity. You can decide amongst yourselves if you want to share or be allowed entry in shifts.”

“This seems too good to be true.” Ivy says. “Is this Niflheim?”

You shrug and walk through the portal. Reality shifts around you and you’re in Haven. You pick up the prepared parcel of weed you left on the other side and walk back out. They stare at you, jaws dropped and eyes wide.

You toss the marijuana over to Ivy, which she catches and opens before taking a sniff.

“A gift for asking the right question. I promise on my soul that this plane is not Niflheim, but a new one.”

Her eyes widen again and she quickly stuffs it in her pack. Of them all, Steel Gears is the calmest, carefully observing your interactions. Of course, one of them has to ask it.

“What if one of us decided to take control of the portal now, by force?”

 You could see what Righteous means with soulsight. He feels that his gang is entitled to it, since he feels as if your successes were only his benefactor’s.

 “Then this noon’s papers will not only expose the locations of the gang headquarters, but also the name of the noble who has his finger dipped in your little gang. And I’m sure that if the other two gangs are going down because of you, they’ll make sure your last moments are as slow and painful as possible, even if they know they can’t win against the might of Celeste coming down on them.”

Righteous shrinks back against your glare and avoids the baleful gazes of the other two dons.

 “Don’t try these games with me, Righteous.” You growl. “I’m not the same woman I was before. Information is king, and I control information. I decide who gets voted in, I decide which laws pass, I decide what is evil in this city. All I need is a story to fit a narrative, and the people will fight for me.” Righteous nervously swallowed and nodded.  “Good!”

You laugh and clap your hands, an instant change from the pressure you were releasing earlier.

 “As for how I’ll make sure you don’t argue who gets control and when, I’ll simply flip a coin and have you sign a magical contract. Steel, Queen or Crown?”

“Crown.” He looks up for a moment before answering.

 You flip a coin and it lands on Crown.

 “Lucky. You decide. Shifts or free market?”

“There would be less arguments on the plane if it were to be done in shifts.” He says after a thoughtful pause. Seriously, this is an Prillian anarchist?

"Okay, whoever wins the next coin toss decides the length of shifts. After that, you’ll bet on coin tosses for the order.”

It was decided, through a few more tosses, that they would shift every two weeks for the portal, with the Storm gang being first, Nectar Family being second, and the Purity Front being last.

It was luck. Technically.

Using your holy powers to manipulate luck a bit doesn’t count, right? It’s not exactly for a bad purpose; Purity Front is distinctly xenophobic.  You don’t want to give them any advantage over your demons and your new citizens.

 “And now for the contracts. I’ve prepared three, and I think everyone will find them quite fair. The conditions are as follows; The room containing the portal as well as the building above and the plane itself are non-aggression zones. No violence unless it is to protect yourself from debilitating physical harm. Next, there is a fifteen silver per kilogram tax.”

They grumble at that, but you quickly explain.

 “Traders will be weighed going in and back out. Considering the cheapest products could be sold for five times that, I doubt this should be a problem. Third, once inside, you will have a choice to have any of the spells already cast upon their person removed, or to keep them and wear blinders to prevent any of the stranger stuff from affecting your mind.”

They’re noticeably confused on this condition. Ivy opens her mouth to ask something, but you raise your hand to stop her and explain.

 “Keep in mind, this is an entirely different plane, and any who have spells removed will find their worldviews changed. There are such things as forbidden knowledge, and with it comes risk. I cannot in good faith allow you to continue without protection.”

This is an insidious bit of reverse psychology. You offer them a choice, and their own curiosity will pull them into making the one you want. Eventually. In the meantime, enough people remain unchanged to keep the families interested.

 “Fourth, a contract will be signed upon entrance by the traders, where they must agree to terms to abiding by the rules of the plane, else face consequences ranging from imprisonment, repayment of debt, or forfeiture. Not to worry, the rules will be posted by the portal. Fifth, the traders will be made aware of these consequences.”

A few of the bodyguards shuffle uncomfortably. The punishments were vague enough to let their imaginations fill out the worse gaps, but clear enough that nobody could claim ignorance. You’ll make sure the rule boards are as big and obtrusive as possible.

“Sixth, should a trader wish to become a citizen of the plane, they must pay first. Their bosses will not force them to come back. In return, all goods are readily available to them, so long as they pay the price. Be warned, there is yet to be a currency exchange system, so the first traders must either trade physical valuables or do a few quick jobs to get the products. Finally, this realm is secret, as is my involvement. Should anybody save your direct subordinates be told, there will be consequences. If they divulge the secrets, you will still suffer the consequences.”

The dons struggled to follow all the conditions, but once you passed them the papers, they understood. The last condition had them nervously looking at their guards.

“I suppose that’s why you told us not to bring guards.” Steelpunk mumbles. Not one of them looked uncomfortable.

“These are my most trusted guards. They are under a geass for a reason.” Righteous scoffs.

“As are mine, though I suspect the nature of our geasses aren’t similar.” Steelpunk states.

“These guards have been in the Family for generations. Their loyalty is guaranteed.” Ivy almost seems offended about the others using geases. You make note of that.

 “Fair enough.” You shrug. “Hopefully you’ll pick traders with just as much fidelity.”

The contracts are quickly signed and handed back over to you.

 “Thank you. I’ll tell my editors not to release the newspapers. And don’t worry, I wrote and printed the articles personally, so nobody else knows.”

They let out a sigh of relief and begin heading back into the tunnels. Righteous turns around, blocking the others.

“Rampant? How are you planning on enforcing the contract?”

“They were magic contracts.” You chuckle darkly. “The last person who tried to cheat me…Gave me everything she had. She didn’t have a choice.”

Righteous shivers and the others hold their breath before going back into the tunnels with a hurried gait.

 “We start the first day of the month, Steelpunk!” You yell down the tunnel. Making your way back to your office, you beam. It’s good to be the boss.