Be a girl in a guy’s body. Or just be Quinn possessing Rusty.

You’re staring at a bunch of papers with numbers. Apparently, you took his soul the second he wrote down a single portion of the finances for Venture. Normally, as quartermaster and first mate, Venture would be getting two shares.

Poor sap.

You can use soulsight, but using magic to summon a tiny flame sends waves of darkness through Rusty’s body. Okay, so demon magic corrupts.

A glance in a mirror shows that Rusty’s normal golden eyes have been replaced by your own green ones. You look over the maps and see Rusty was trying to get somewhere. A foreign memory surfaces.

Nancy’s Tavern.

It originally started as a tavern-ship that drifted in the winds, a sort of refuge amongst pirates. But it grew gradually over time, accumulating balloons and runes to keep it afloat as it grew in size. Now it’s a massive island made of scavenged and scuttled ship parts, floating about, a tightly kept secret among pirates, smugglers, mercenaries, and other ne’er do well’s.

There are a bunch of rules for this security, which they all respect out of necessity. No killing outside of duels. No stealing except through trade and gambling. No raping or abducting.  And all property of the island ship belongs to the island ship, so destroying any part of it is a massive offense. If someone is suspected of breaking the code, they’re put on trial, with a shaman residing.

First-time lawbreakers have a limb cut off. Second-timers, their heads.

Rusty was heading over there to trade and possibly exchange information. He was probably going to report his findings on you and Claw’s actions. Apparently, even pirates have a code, and what Claw did was bring too much heat on pirates in general. If he had continued what Aevum Sisto told him to do, he would have had a price on his head from both Prillia and its allies as well as the pirate kings. Unless Aevum has his own people on the inside.

You frown. Better check it out.

A knock at the door. You sit back down, and with a wave of your wings, the candles near you are extinguished, shrouding you in darkness.

“Come in.” Venture walks in, but seems a bit cautious when he sees how dark it is.

“I did as I was told boss.”

“That’s good.”

Venture is taken aback. “You don’t doubt me? Not even going to ask their condition?”

“I’ve got a hunch you followed through.” You use this opportunity to make an in-depth analysis of his character. Hmm.

“We’re heading over to Nancy’s Tavern. And I’m starting to feel a bit tired of the life.”

“Sir?”

“You’re a fine quartermaster, Venture. And you’ll be a fine captain. But I need money if I want to start an easy life on Nancy’s. And I see way we can both profit from this.” Venture is surprised but sits down in the chair in front of the desk. “I want to sell you the two ships. Ol’ “Rustbucket” and the “Sword of Virtue.” But it’ll cost you.”

“That’s fine, sir.”

“Perfect, let’s draw up a contract.” You pull out a quill and a scroll from a drawer.

“Here we are: ‘In exchange for command over Rusty’s two ships and crew, Venture will leave ten portions for the other party. The contractor cedes half of the traditional four portions when a captain retires in exchange for silence regarding the individual known as Quinn. This contract will be put into effect once docked at Nancy’s Tavern.” Venture frowns as you sign.

“Strange bit, that last one, but I guess you have plans for her?” He can see your smile in the dark.

“More than you know. Will you sign?”

Venture is discomforted, but he shrugs and leans down to sign, then squints.

“I guess she rubbed off on you about contracts. Can you get me a light, it’s hard to see?” You smirk and lift a thumb above his head and summon a flame upon it.

“Thank you, that’s perfect.” He signs.

Just as a smile brightens up his muzzle, you see a question arise. He looks up and sees the flame on your thumb. His gaze drifts to your demonic eyes. His own widen in horror.

“S-sir? What’s wrong with your eyes? And since when could you learn magic?” He laughs nervously. It’s obvious he’s put two and two together, but he’s in denial.

“Rusty did not fulfill his part of the contract, so his soul was forfeit.” Venture uneasily got out of the chair and backed up. “Hopefully, everyone will keep their words this time.”

You grin and hold up the contract both of you had just signed. Venture shudders and his pupils shrink to pinpricks. Being the smart pirate that he is, he stands up straight and salutes.

“No need to worry about that, sir, erm…ma’am. Captain.” You chuckle and turn off the fire in your talons.

“I’m going to be making an announcement at sunset. Make sure all hands are on deck.” Venture salutes, awkwardly bows, salutes again and walks out the door at a slightly faster than leisurely pace.

You let out a breath and stash the contract away.  You didn’t feel any influx of magic when you drafted it, so you doubt that there’d be any consequences if Venture broke his promise. Your bluff worked, and you managed to not only get some funds to start up in Nancy’s Tavern, but you also got a captain who thinks that you’re holding him by the balls.

He’ll try to convince the crew not to talk about you to be sure, since he’s seen the consequences firsthand. But for now, you’ve got a mission on Nancy’s Tavern.

Investigate how deep Aevum’s influence is. And spread your own.

You’ll arrive in a couple hours. As the sun sets in the west, you get out of your cabin and sit on the captain’s deck with the sun behind you so they can’t see your eyes clearly. A sizable crowd is gathered, from the lowly cabin boys and ship prostitutes to the crew’s shaman doctor and your direct subordinates.

They’re silent as they watch you, and you decide to jump right into it.

“My fellow shipmates, we’ve had quite a few adventures together. But there’s a time when you must fold your hand. We’ve been on a lucky streak, and I’ve saved enough of my personal fortune so that I could start a more legitimate trade.”

There’s some grumbling about ‘legitimate’.

“So I’ve decided to set up shop in Nancy’s Tavern, dealing in drugs and whores.”

The crew laughs.

“These have been the best few years for your Captain, and all he wants to do now is wake up some morning with his dick in somebody’s mouth.”

The prostitutes in the crowd holler.

“Venture will be taking over for me. I’m sure you’ve all witnessed his abilities.”

“Hold up!” A minotaur steps forward.

“Venture’s been absent for the past few days, and he hasn’t even been personally challenged for his position in nearly a year! I want to replace him.”

Of course. You shrug.

“You can challenge him if you’d like.” The crew is surprised and they start talking.  The minotaur, who had more to say, closed his mouth and smirked. Venture himself is stoic, but you can tell he knows you’re up to something. “But…”

The crew silences themselves.

“The terms are unequal. If you win, you’ll probably throw him overboard to secure your position as captain. If he wins, all you lose is your pride.”

The minotaur’s smirk falls. You didn’t even need soulsight to read this schmuck.

“So, if you lose, there will be a penalty. I seriously want to start a business and you seem like fine material as a male prostitute. I can assure you, the ladies will pay well, and all of your money for the next ten years will have to go to me.”

The crew chuckles as a few females among the crew nod. The bull nervously backs down.

“If that’ll be all, I’ll be in my cabin. Hopefully, by the time you guys are done with your next outing, you can visit my shop. I’ll give you a discount.”

The crew cheers, none the wiser. Venture nods and shivers when you give him a glance.

Back in your own body, you’re tapping at the console, reading through WikiHell. You need to somehow establish a trade route from Haven to somewhere else. Thankfully, you remember what Satan said what seems like forever ago.

It’s possible to create portals between planes. The ideal solution would be to create two: one in Prillia, and the other on Nancy’s Tavern. Get a general trade flow. Hopefully nobody in green power armor rampages through. You’re quite fond of not being RIPPED and TORN! Only in the sexy way.

Turns out, it’s pretty fucking complicated. There’s a lot of math involved. Sure, you may have finances down, but that’s just simple division. To create a portal, you have to go through a lot of trigonometry, algebra, and lawyer-talk. You close your eyes and rub your head.

Your breasts are aching too. Your grab your breasts and squeeze, trying to massage the pain out. A wet spot spreads across your sports bra. You look down in surprise.

Your baby bump has grown again. You rub your abdomen and purr. It’s odd that’s you’d become almost addicted to the sensation. Being a breeding sow for those pirates, being used as an incubation chamber for this mysterious horror…it sends shivers of delight running down your spine, whipping your tail in a frenzy.

If you had the time, you’d put yourself in a pillory and let all of Haven have their way with you. The thought of it causes your womanhood to get sopping wet. But you get the sense that while you’d amass your power quickly and feel great doing it, Haven will just fall into an unproductive mess. And you can’t have that, not while there are threats out there like Aevum.

Looking down on your growing baby bump, you smile. You know that what comes out will be some sort of abomination…But the idea that you’re carrying life that will fuck you fills you with some sort of messed up motherly affection.

You force yourself to concentrate. From the top.

To make a portal, you need obsidian, iron, and cobalt. You would prefer potassium and sulfur, but you can’t exactly buy them at all. Alternatively, a lot of radioactive metals, but that’s both very hard to find and hard to buy. Also a major no-no for non-demons.

Typically speaking, there’s a lot more work into making a portal to Haven.

For one, the portal must always face south, because of stupid cardinal directions. If you plan to make a portal on Nancy’s Tavern, you’ll need to make a giant compass for the portal to sit on.

The portal has to be under a full moon, which is no problem. Every night is a full moon here. There’s even some angry face up there. You’re sure that’s not relevant.

The gate itself has to be a perfect circle of obsidian, iron, and cobalt. And there has to be a perfect line of ‘x’ around the portal. According to WikiHell, ‘x’ is ‘the qualities which resonate with the realm’s current attribute.’

And since using demons is not allowed…You’re going to have to hire a lot of prostitutes.

Finally…Virgin sacrifices. Multiples of three, multiples of six preferred. That’s literally all it says. But…That goes against everything you believe in.

…

Well, yeah, killing is very, very bad. Why kill someone if you can eventually corrupt get them on your side? But letting someone die a virgin? Or even leaving someone a virgin? No. You’ll have to find a loophole.

Now to calculate everything you need. Thankfully, you find the calculator, hidden under layers of folders on the stupid hell computer. By the time you find it, your demon brain has already done the math. You groan. To create this 4 meter ring, you’ll need a lot of money. Enough to buy several tons of cobalt, iron, and obsidian.

The fuck, man.

And that’s not counting the 31.5 meters of whores whose services you need to buy. Don't ask, the math adds up. You thump your head against your desk. There's also the giant compass you need to construct.

Thump again.

You have the products to make the money…But they’re in Haven, not out there. And unless you do this, the only way you could get trade would be to go there personally. Which isn’t exactly automatic. How is Rusty’s body going to get the products?