GOD GAMES

In most cities and towns, there tends to be a major trading hub. A nice place where all manner of sellers and buyers can get together to trade goods. Usually, such hubs are located within the city center where most of the population can visit. The problem here is that Breston has no city center. Most of its population lives around the floating crucible of an island- with the top of the island delegated to farmland, water reserves, and the general very wealthy.

Because of this, three hubs of trade have formed and all are located at the largest docks within the city. The first and arguably most diverse trading hub is known as the Basket. The Basket is where most corvettes are docked in a manner that maximizes the ship to space ratio. Many corvettes are nearly stacked up on top of each other and placed close enough you could hear the sexual activities of another's crew.

With the generally lower size and carry weight of a Corvette, a large amount of very diverse products with plenty of competition are sold. The general population tends to favor this hub far more than any others.

The next hub, and arguably largest in regards to the number of goods is the Fabricata. The Fabricata is located at the Frigate class docks. With the significantly larger hold space of a Frigate- especially one designed for trade, the goods available here are of a quantity where [Traders], [Merchants], [Smiths], and anyone with a shop frequent most exclusively. Granted, you’ll also find the average person looking for a deal, but those tend to be a minority.

The last hub is called Perditor. Perditor is where generally destroyer and hauler class ships are docked. This hub is the smallest hub of trading, primarily because of the rarity of ships made of such a size. For every destroyer class, there are five frigate classes or twenty corvettes class ships. But, what they make up in numbers is in quantity and quality of goods. With holds generally larger than frigates, they have a vast supply of bulk material. With larger hulls, more and stronger cannons, these ships become unlikely targets for [Pirates]. Which means that the goods being traded can be of a more expensive quality. It is at Perditor where the Timbergrove and Imminent Huntress are docked.

“What do you mean it won't sell as much?” Cillian growls. He points at the Imminent Huntress. “It’s a destroyer class. Destroyer classes can sell for a hundred thousand trist!”

The man, an [Auctioneer] by the name Gerald, shakes his head. The man wears a rather formal and business-like coat that matches all of his attire and expensive jewelry. On his right eye is a piece of thick dark glass with a rune etched on the side of it.

“And that's the crux of the issue. The Imminent Huntress is not a Destroyer, but a modified Hauler for combat. It will not sell anywhere near a hundred thousand trist. That’s why I’m offering 15% and not 10%.”

Cillian frowns. He turns and waves Myers over.

“What is it?” Myers asks.

“This fucker says the Imminent Huntress ain’t a Destroyer. That true?”

Myers nods. “It’s at the same weight class as a Destroyer, but it was built and designed as a Hauler, and then modified to carry more cannons albeit without the thicker and reinforced hull of a destroyer.”

Gerald grins at Cillian’s growing discomfort. “As you can see by your experienced associate here, the ship is not going to sell at such a price as to offer a 10% commission.”

Myers strokes his beard intently. “On the contrary, I believe the Imminent Huntress can very well make six figures. Haulers are much faster than Destroyers on account of their lower weight- which allows them to outrun Destroyers so long as their hulls aren't carrying any heavy goods like ingots. With the added cannons from the modifications, the Imminent Huntress can outgun any Frigates that could keep up with its speed. I imagine both [Captains] and [Pirates] would flock to buy the ship for those reasons alone.”

Geralds grin subsides into a grimace. He scratches his perfectly trimmed goatee as he stares at the ship again. “You forget that modifications lower the selling price of a ship.”

“Poorly made modifications do,” Myers quickly adds. “The Imminent Huntress is not poorly modified. It would be simple to pay an experienced [Shipwright] to give his professional opinion in writing.”

Gerald frowns. “Still, that’s a financial risk on my part. Setting up the auction, inviting experts, making reservations for viewing, on top of food and drink. These expenses can hit very hard on my profit margins if the ship does not sell as well. On top of all that, I really doubt anyone is going to pay more than seventy thousand for the ship no matter how well I market it.”

Cillian chuckles. “Then we modify the percentages. If the ship sells for fifty thousand trist, then your commission is 15%. But, for every ten thousand additional sales, your commission decreases by 1% until it hits 10%. This way you are still making good profit with an incentive to sell the ship for as high as possible.”

Gerald strokes his goatee in interest. “That can work… yes. It seems reasonable. I can have a contract made and delivered by tomorrow.”

“Then it's a deal.” Cillian extends his hand.

Gerald shakes the hand. “It is indeed. I will see you soon.”

The [Auctioneer] walks off with a smile on his face.

“Damn, he fucked up.”

“Crivvens!” Cillian screams in surprise. He looks down to find Quasi smugly staring up at the Portly man.

“Oy, I almost wet me-self. When’d you get here?”

Quasi hops up on a nearby barrel. “Same time when you called Myers over- though the old man knew I’d arrive. I’m going to have to be sneakier next time.”

Myers ignores the jest and instead stares at the disappearing [Auctioneer]. “You mentioned that the [Auctioneer] made a mistake with the deal. It seems like the deal is good for both parties.”

“The deal is good if the ship sells for fifty grand or more than a hundred grand. But, if it sells anywhere in-between sixty and ninety grand, then we benefit more. At fifty thousand, we make 42,500 trist and he makes 7500 trist. At sixty thousand, we make 51,600 trist and he makes 8,400 trist. That's a 21.4% increase in profits for us and a 12% increase in profits for him. That single percent loss is the equivalent of 400 trist for him. At seventy thousand, our profit increase from sixty thousand is 18%, but his profits increase is 8%. That is another 700 trist less in his pocket and more in ours. At eighty thousand, he loses 500 trist, and then 300 trist at ninety thousand. If what he says is true and the ship only sells for seventy thousand, then we still benefit from a minimum of 1,100 trist.”

Myers stares at the cats explanation and the smug grin on Cillians face. Then he shakes his head. “I would never want to be a [Quartermaster].”

Quasi and Cillian chuckle. Then Cillian notices it as a breeze passes by.\

“You look different. More puffy.”

Quasi grins. “Yup, I got a new skill from yesterday night's foray. By the way, how’s Boriss and Clay?”

Myers' expression hardens. “They’re both fine. But I need to talk to you about setting some rules in regards to my grandson. I don’t want him to leave the ship in the middle of the night. I understand Boriss just wants to give him some fresh air, but it’s still dangerous.”

Quasi stares at Myers who looks upset but not angry.

“Do you know where they went?” Quasi asks.

“A nearby tavern.” Myers sighs. “Which I wouldn’t mind, but not in the middle of the night.”

Cillian nods. “The old man is right. I heard there was a recent killing of five men near here. If the kid was near at the time, he might’ve been in danger.”

Quasi glances at the two very ignorant individuals. Then he shrugs. “I’ll punish Boriss later. But first, I need to know, have you transferred the cannons from the Imminent Huntress to the Timbergrove yet?

“Irmgard left earlier to hire some hands for the transfer,” Cillian says.

“Perfect. Certain things happened yesterday and I became the proud owner of several cannons and a ballistae. We can install the weapons on the Timbergrove and sell anything else we don't need.”

Myers frowns. “You bought a ballistae?”

The cat rolls his eyes. “No, of course not. I legally and freely acquired everything within and on a soon-to-be-auctioned Destroyer. So yea, if you see Irmgard, I want her to take everything from the ship. Even the sails.” The cat pauses for a moment and then looks at the confused old man. “Actually, can armor plating be removed too?”

“You were only gone for a single day.” The old man ignores the question. “What exactly happened?”

“It’s complicated, but it involves the spilling of milk. Anyway, I’ll tell you the story later.” The cat stretches on the barrel. “I need to leave soon. But first; Cillian, I found a buyer for all the weapons and armor we have. When you have the time, head to the castle and ask to speak with Janice. She’s a very affectionate petter with deep pockets.”

Quasi hops off the barrel. “I’m going to be gone for a bit. If you need me, I’ll be at the Runic Workings store- the one with the Gemma.”

The cat rushes off and disappears into a crowd of people.

Cillian reaches on his hip, grabs a bottle holstered next to his gun, pops open the cork, and takes a sip. “Did he mention what ship we’re to get the cannons?”

“No.” Myers shakes his head.

“Shite.” Cillian curses. “I don’t suppose you know where this Runic Working store is?”

“I… do. I’ve a friend there.” Myers turns his head and glances at the Timbergrove. “I’ll go meet him and find out about the ship from Quasi. In the meantime, can you keep an eye on Clay?”

Cillian nods. “I do kinda havta go to the castle, but I can wait until Irmgard returns.”

Myers nods. “Then I’m off. I’ll try to return before nightfall.”

__________________________________________________________________

Emma watches warily as her father heads down the street wearing only pants. On his chest and wrapped around his back are several layers of bandages. The bandages aren't there to stop any bleeding - for the gemma are naturally resilient to such a thing. No, the bandages are there to make sure that the stone skin can properly heal and close, otherwise there will be a weak point in their natural armor.

“Dad, should you really be moving already?” she asks. She adjusts the longsword on her back and the runed greaves in her arms. “It’s only been a day since you were injured.”

Her father does not react. Instead, she can see the caring look from her father’s eyes. “As I mentioned before, I have felt worse.” He raises his hand and taps his chest. “This wound is shallow and hasn't even touched my organs. I expect it to recover in a month's time.”

Emma pouts at her father’s answer. She can see that every step causes him pain, but he is far too hard-headed to just sit and wait until the wound is more manageable.

Eventually, they arrive at their home. Her father activates the rune, opens the door, and enters. She follows inside.

“Come.” He orders. She follows him all the way to the back of the store and where they store all of their supplies. He walks towards an old vertical wall sconce. He grabs it, and then turns it horizontally to reveal a hidden rune. He places his finger on the Rune. The room shakes for a moment, followed by the wall pushing unlatching on the other side. Her father then pushes the Sconce like a knob to reveal a dark staircase leading downard.

“When did you build something like this?” She asks in wonder.

“When you were too heavy to walk.” He begins to descend. She follows him after a short pause. When they arrive at the bottom, she is met with only darkness except for a glowing rune. Her father places his hand on the rune, and then the entire room bursts into light from a runic chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

She enters the room and looks around. Shelves upon shelves of runic armor, weapons, and crystals line the walls of the room alongside plenty of dust. The weapons are of very good quality; most of which rank Uncommon, though a decent amount of Rare are also present.

“Everything here is what I created when I traveled with your mother… for your mother.” He stops in front of a chest in the back of the room. “Until she outleveled what I made.”

She stops next to him, staring at the chest covered in runes.

Name

Durable Chest of Preservation

Rarity

Rare - 4 runes.

1(Durability)

1(Air barrier)

1(Liquid Barrier)

1(Lock)

Description

This durable metal chest protects all internal contents from minor air and liquid particles. This chest is rune locked.

Sustain

2131/3700 Mana

-0.008 Mana degeneration per minute.

He kneels down slowly without a grunt. But she catches his eyes close from the pain.

“This is your mother’s old equipment and the best I’d ever created.”

When he touches the chest, she hears a click. Then he opens it. A full set of armor is revealed to her.

Name

Metal-Scale plate

Rarity

Exceptional - 8 Runes.

2(1-Durability)

3(1-Lightweight)

1(1-Muffle)

1(1-Piercing Resist)

1(1-Crush Resist)

Description

This armor is built with interlocking metal plates that is +40% more durable, +60% lighter in weight, +100% quieter, +50% more resilient to Piercing, and +50% more resilient to Crushing.

Sustain

0.08% Mana regeneration per minute.

Name

Crystal-Steel Bascinet of Night Vision.

Rarity

Exceptional - 6 Runes.

1(1-Durability),

1(1-Piercing Resist),

1(1-Crush Resist),

1(3-Night vision)

Description

This armor is +30% more durable, +50% resilient to piercing, +50% crushing, and grants the wearer the ability to see in darkness.

Sustain

0.10% Mana regeneration per minute.

Name

Metal-plated Leather Gauntlets of strength

Rarity

Exceptional - 6 Runes.

1(1-Durability)

1(1- Pierce Resist)

1(1-Crush Resist)

1(3- Enhanced Strength)

Description

This armor is +30% more durable, +50% resilient to piercing, +50% resilient to crushing, and grants the wearer +10% strength.

Sustain

0.08% Mana regeneration per minute.

After reading the three pieces, she looks down at the final piece in her arms.

Name

Greaves of Silent Stomping

Rarity

Exceptional - 6 Runes.

1(6-Sound suppression)

Description

This armor grants the wearer the ability to suppress any sounds made from impacts.

Sustain

0.11% Mana regeneration per minute.

He notices her frown as she gazes at the greaves in her arms.

“That's my best piece,” he comments. “A single rune with a very powerful effect.”

“How are you not an Expert yet?” She asks, flabbergasted.

Though he does not react, she can see the sadness and regret in her father’s eyes.

“The difference between level forty-nine and fifty is vast. It is a step very very few are able to overcome- and not without significant risk. If I want to gain that last level, I would need to put my life on the line.” His head turns to her. “That’s a risk I’m not willing to take right now.”

She looks away from her father as a wave of guilt flows through her.

“Because of me you’re still an advanced class.”

“No.” He says softly with what seems slightly less gruff than usual. “It is because of you that I no longer hunger for levels. I am far happier and content watching you grow.”

She looks back at him and meets his eyes. Eyes that radiate happiness and pride.

“S-so, did you just want to show me my mother’s armor?” She quickly changes the question.

His eyes move away from her and back to the chest. He leans forward. “The armor is made for your mother’s body. Since you have her proportions, I give it to you.” He grabs a bag hidden underneath the chest piece. “More importantly, if you want to level from making those gauntlets, then you’re going to need to use this.”

He places the bag on the floor and then opens it to reveal a glowing green core.

Before either can react, a cat swagger between them and places a paw on the orb.

The cat snorts. “Mine’s bigger and brighter.”