Chapter 11: A Ghoulish Sort of Beauty
I return to the clamor of the market with this perver- erm, my new friend Chris in tow, and his loud voice earns us the scorn of the passerby. Even the pretty shop girl from earlier gazes at me with a complicated expression on her face, and the scanning core picks up her whispering "but he seemed so nice… Turns out he's just a huge pervert… But that's nice sometimes too."
As for what Chris said to earn us everyone's attention?
"If it's for big breasted slave girls, it's got to be Damien's Emporium, my friend…" Seeing the frown on my face, he hastily corrects himself: "Oh, and if you like them small-chested, he's got that too! Why, just last week he got a girl in who couldn't've been more than 14… About the same as young master here! So, waddya say?" He asks with a grin.
I rub the back of my head awkwardly, wondering what I can say to get myself out of this… "Hehe, to be honest, Chris, I've actually got a thing for more mature women… I mean, 30, 40, that's where it's at, man."
"Oho, a fellow comrade, then?"
Dammit.
I was left trying to think of a way to bail myself out, but unbeknownst to me, we arrived before an arched doorway covered with velvet fabric, when a well-groomed man in dress robes looks us over with a smile.
"Hey Damien, I've brought you a customer!" And with a wink, he adds "He's a kindred spirit of mine, if you get my drift, so let's start the selection there."
"Oh? Young Master, you're in luck-- not that it matters to you, of course, but we rarely see those with your... exquisite tastes here, so you'll be able to browse the best merchandise of my shop at a discount. What type of slave are you looking for? Would a demi-human be okay, or should she be human?"
Damien asks me this with all the airs of a well-practiced shopkeeper-- it's obvious he's been in the business for a number of years, especially with as well as he handles the complete and utter pervert that is Chris. As he guides us to sit at a luxuriously decorated table in the middle of the shop, a young maid in a silver collar serves us tea before bowing out.
"She doesn't need to be human… In fact, it might be best if she's not, I'd like someone with a longer lifespan, and pretty good stamina at tha-"
"Heh, pretty good stamina, huh?" Chris interjects, "Young Master looks might not look it yet, but you're a real man, aren't you?"
"AHEM--", I cough, losing some tea in the process, but Damien maintains his stately air. Truly a professional. "While it's true that I'm worried about her not being able to keep up with me, that wasn't the sense in which I meant it… Anyway, I'd like to find someone literate, with good knowledge of the surrounding country. I can protect her, so there's no need for a fighter, and she doesn't need to be good-looking, Oh, any extra languages she knows are a bonus."
"Hmm…" Damien ponders, before giving a sidelong glance to Chris. "I'm surprised, my old friend… For an acquaintance of yours, he's surprisingly practical, even at his age. You could learn a thing from him."
"Anyway, you've truly troubled me, Young Master… While a do have a slave that fits your description, I'm afraid she's not fitting for someone of your standing…" He trails off hesitantly, leaving me curious, before Chris exclaims in surprise: "What?? You can't be serious, Damien, are you seriously thinking of pushing off that old undead bitch on this kid?!"
"PSHH-" This time, it's Damiens turn to spit out his drink, only it's right into Chris' lap. Yeah, something tells me that was intentional. "I'm terribly sorry, Young Master, I meant to imply nothing of the sort, simply that she's the only one who meets your criteria, in addition to being older…"
Wait, but that last one wasn't actually a requireme- ah well, he did say it's cheaper that way, so whatever.
"I'm sorry Damien, but I don't follow-- is there a problem with this slave?"
"Well, to answer Young Master, she's… Well, I wonder how familiar Young Master is with undead?"
"Hmm… I guess you could say that I have an academic interest in them. If that's all there is, then it's no problem"
Damien replies hesitantly, then faces the young maid; "If you insist, sir… Emma, bring that Ghoul woman out."
The maid complies, but a mix of fear and disgust is written all over her face. Evidently feeling the same, Chris hurriedly excuses himself, promising to meet me for lunch at the Inn again sometime. As he runs out, the maid returns, bringing in a grey-skinned woman in a full-length white dress, wearing a half-faced mask and with gloves cuffed on. Despite the startling appearance, she kindly follows behind and elegantly bows to us, seemingly practiced in etiquette. She's a little shorter than I am, but most startling are her eyes, burning bright-green without a hint of the dull resignation the other slaves carry. With just a look, she's caught my interest, even without the scant clothing worn by other slaves here.
My eyes linger over her hands and the mask, maybe a little too long, since Damien interjects "Since Ghouls can morph their fingers into venomous talons, it's store policy for her to wear the gloves-- this woman in particular is quite well-behaved, so we've done our best to make them comfortable for her", a sentence that evokes an appreciate nod from the Ghoul woman before me.
"Then… what about the mask she's wearing?"
"Oh, well, Young Master may not be aware that she's fairly old among most ghouls, even if she's nowhere near the end of her lifespan. Although that wouldn't mean much for most species, most ghouls begin to show degeneration around their injuries, so even something like a scratch can grow into an open wound with time. It doesn't hurt them, being undead, but most people find it rather unpleasant to look at. It's why nearly any Ghoul that looks older than 16 will be dressed modestly, despite their… er, strong desire to do otherwise.
"Strong… desire… to do otherwise?" I ask, feigning innocence even though I have a good idea what he's implying. Jackpot! As expected, even with most of her face covered, that embarrassed look of hers is to die for!
"Well…" he continues, looking uncomfortable, "Among the other nobles, young Ghoul women are considered a… delicacy of sorts, since their racial ability to produce aphrodisiac venom is in high demand. Furthermore, since their reproduction rate is so low, they've developed a… rather… lustful personality to compensate. In their own village, it's not uncommon to see them dressed provocatively to garner men's attention, or even in the nude despite open wounds, since it's a common trait among their race."
Her face is cherry-red by now, but her poise still retains elegance. I'd say it's funny to see a woman over twice my apparent age looking so flustered, but seeing as one could argue that my own age is in the thousands, I guess I should go easy on her. I turn towards her, asking "Anyway, Damien here tells me you're pretty knowledgeable when it comes to culture and the surrounding countries?"
"Answering Young Master, I served as a trader for a distant Ghoul village for over twenty years. By now, I'm familiar with several human countries and almost all the nearby demihuman cultures."
< Warning: Subject lying with 86% certainty. Recommend interrogation. >
I raise an eyebrow at the scanning core's notice-- I've found someone unexpectedly interesting in this shop. "I wonder", I say, turning to face Damien, "Would it be possible for me to speak with her privately for a moment? I plan on buying her, but there's something I want to confirm first."
"I… Well…" Damien hesitates for a moment, "It should be fine if it's this woman, I suppose. Just keep in mind that an older Ghoul's skin tears rather easily, and I'll have to hold you responsible for any damages to the merchandise. Follow me to our… uh, interview room."
There's a glint of fear in her eyes as we walk over, but she hides it well under an elegant demeanor. The "interview room" is exactly what you'd expect-- there's not even a couch in the room, much less a table and chairs. It's evident that most of the discussion that goes on in this room takes place atop the king-sized bed in the center of the room. I take a seat and pat the spot next to me, and as she walks over, Damien quickly closes the door with a forced smile. The Ghoul woman's proud eyes have taken the guise of a small animal, evidently reading into the situation a little too much.
[Ward: Sound]
With a wave of my hand, the border of the room flickers as the barrier takes shape and the woman beside me gasps in surprise, a hint of fear showing on her face.
"Are you… Are you a Mage?"
"If I said no, you'd believe it about as much as I believe that you're a merchant." I say with a smile, meeting her nervous eyes.
Weekly Power Status
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Ranking 
-- Power
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