Champion, Chapter 37: Masquerade

AidanThe RealmsSeventhday, 4th week of the 9th month, Age of the Chosen 1Early AfternoonTermondoon, Mist Stalker territory, Mistvale Highlands

Aidan approached Searlas, Sunnild trailing a step behind him. Every eye in the hall was on him, but he felt it the most from the women on the dais. As he drew closer, he could tell that each of the human-looking ones were different races. There was a human, young and voluptuous with strawberry blonde hair and freckles spilling out onto her cleavage, but the others were beastfolk. One, with long, wavy black hair, had webbed fingers. Another had skin like milk chocolate and a smile that revealed elongated canines. The woman with webbed fingers was a cu uisce, an otterfolk, while the other was a wolven, if Aidan remembered Brighid's descriptions of the surrounding tribes. The fourth human-like woman was an enigma, though. Aidan could tell, somehow, that she wasn't human, but he couldn't figure out what her animal trait was to get an idea of her race. She had a narrow face framed by voluminous golden-blonde hair, grey eyes, lips so red they had to be enhanced with cosmetics, and porcelain-pale skin.

The elf was slender, her long brown hair cascading down over her small breasts but doing nothing to hide her broad hips. She smirked and blew Aidan a kiss when his eyes passed over her. The one who caught his attention the most, though, was the catfolk girl. Her eyes were fixed on him, and she leaned forward, framing her cleavage with her arms. She held her head high, almost as if showing off the seamless golden collar encircling her neck. Aidan could see that it was engraved, but he couldn't make out the writing or imagery from a distance. When she saw that she had his attention, the catgirl gave him a come-hither look and traced her lips with her tongue. She arched her back, thrusting her breasts towards him.

"Exquisite, is she not?" Aidan's eyes snapped up to Searlas, who wore a broad, smirking smile. "Aoife is the crown jewel of our little collection, despite being the newest addition. A human merchant brought her to us two months back, claiming he 'found' her wandering in our territory. The fool collared her and presented her as a gift. We had him slain; only us or our agents are allowed to detain our subjects. Alas, our mages have not found a way to remove the collar yet, but you are happy enough, are you not, Aoife?"

The woman twisted in place and nuzzled her head against Searlas's leg. "Of course, my Lord. The day you saved me from that vile man was the best in my life." Her voice came out as a throaty purr.

Maybe it's just an isolated issue with Criodan, then? Or maybe there's more here than meets the eye—he's still talking about them like they're possessions. Either way, I have more immediate problems. "All of your attendants are beautiful, Lord Searlas; I commend your taste. I fear that the paltry trinkets I brought with me will pale beside their beauty."

Searlas gave Aidan a toothy grin. "We are confident that Lord Criodan would not have recommended you to us if your gifts were so poor." He turned his head and motioned for one of the guards beside the dais to step forward. Aidan took the cue and handed over the gifts that Criodan had pointed out.

First was a classic step-cut emerald the size of Aidan's palm. At first, Aidan planned to use it as part of a gift for Brighid since its color matched her eyes, but Ailis persuaded him to part with it by pointing out that the only jewelry Brighid wore was his collar. She didn't even have pierced ears. Although... She would look stunning with a pair of emerald barbells through her nipples. It's a shame she doesn't have a belly button to pierce. He shook the thought away; it wouldn't be good to get distracted now.

The second major gift was a pot of fragrant oil mixed with Viridescent Nectar. It could be used on its own in an oil lamp, which would produce a pleasant-smelling vapor that induced mild euphoria without being addictive. However, that was not its ideal use; according to Ailis, it could be used as a component in making powerful wards. She felt safe giving it away to a potential enemy because it didn't have any offensive uses and, with access to the Labyrinth, they had the means to make as much of it as they wanted. Aidan wasn't about to mention that to Searlas, though he did describe its uses.

The third offering was the Tenebrous Knight's Shell that Aidan and Brighid earned by clearing the Fetid Lair so many weeks ago. Its stealth-enabling properties would make it excellent armor for a Mist Stalker warrior. They did not often wear plate mail because they preferred to strike from hiding, but the Shell eliminated those concerns. And, as magic armor, it would resize, within certain limits, to suit its wearer. It couldn't reshape itself to fit a centaur's lower body, but catfolk would have no problem.

The fourth and final item of tribute was something altogether different. Searlas's eyebrows rose when his guard handed him a rolled-up parchment, but he unfurled it and scanned its contents. His eyebrows rose higher the further he read until, at last, he broke out into laughter. "Hah, ahahah!" Searlas roared, pounding the arm of his throne. "Oh, you do bring surprises, Lord Aidan! Haha! It seems, good subjects, that the war is, at last, finished! The Starchasers, at our good friend's request, signed the formal peace treaty at last! Come! Have a seat, have a drink! This calls for a celebration, hahaha!"

The spectators erupted in a cheer at their Chieftan's declaration. Bemused, Aidan let himself and Sunnild be guided to an empty couch near the throne. The instant he sat down, a servant pressed a goblet into his hand and held out the mouthpiece of a hookah for him to inhale from. He accepted the first but turned the latter down—barring poison, the drink seemed safer to indulge in.

Once Chief Searlas managed to reign in his laughter, he sprang to his feet. "Let it be known," he called out in a voice that carried to the farthest corner of the hall, "that Lord Aidan has our favor! We grant to him the title of Peacebringer for his selfless efforts on our behalf!" Another cheer answered that declaration.

Aidan sank back into the cushions, trying to understand the implications of those notifications. So far, Searlas was not at all what he expected, and so far as he knew, the system popups were immune to mortal interference. That meant that Searlas really did view him as a friend, and the trigger was the signed peace treaty. Aidan had half-expected mocking laughter from that, not the boisterous mix of happiness and relief that had burst from the Chieftan.

Aidan's thoughts were interrupted by a warm, soft body pressing against his right side. He started—Sunnild was on his left and wearing armor besides—and turned his head to find Aoife, Searlas's captive catgirl, smiling at him.

"Lord Searlas's favor comes with benefits," she purred aloud, then leaned forward to whisper into his ear. "Lord Searlas grants you a private audience two days hence. There are many in Termondoon that he dares not trust, and it will take him time to ensure that the right people are in place." Aoife traced a finger up Aidan's jawline to his ear, then down onto his neck. "In the meantime, I will be your guide, servant, and point of contact with my Lord. Whatever my Lord Peacebringer desires, it is my duty and pleasure to provide."

Before Aidan could wrap his head around that, Aoife settled down beside him and said in a normal tone of voice, "Now that Lord Searlas has made his opinion of you known, many of the lesser nobles will seek you out to curry your favor and entangle you in their schemes. The man approaching us now is Ruari mac Rinn; he is a merchant specializing in raw materials. He is likely interested in seeing what goods you are looking to import and export from your city."

AidanLate Afternoon

By the time the last petitioner bowed and made his exit, Aidan's head was spinning. At least twenty different people approached him over the previous four hours, each wanting something different from him. Trade deals, information, invitations to private gatherings, an offer to buy Sunnild from him that both she and Aoife had to intervene to keep him from attacking the smug-looking cat. The wine wasn't helping, either; Aidan had no idea how much of it he drank because a helpful servant refilled his goblet every time he set it down. For the last half-hour, Aidan had taken to holding it in his hand the whole time to keep it from being refilled, but that meant he took sips more often.

And then there was Aoife herself. The woman was beyond helpful; she knew everyone by name and had been free with insights that allowed Aidan to navigate the minefield of courtly interactions. At the same time, she was sending strong signals to him—her lips brushing against his ear when she whispered secrets to him, touching his hand and upper arm whenever she wanted his attention, smiling and displaying herself to him every time he looked at her. It was plain that she was seducing him, but the constant glint of her golden collar kept Aidan wondering whether it was her idea.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Aidan looked around the room. Searlas made his exit more than an hour earlier, and only a handful of stragglers remained. He recognized all of them, so he turned to Sunnild and asked, "Are you as ready to get out of here as I am?"

"Mm!" she agreed with a smile. "I know that was all important, but I've been sitting here for hours with nothin' ta do but drink." She giggled and held up her goblet. "I think I'm a little tipsy." Given her rosy cheeks and glassy eyes, Aidan suspected she was full-on drunk.

"All right, songbird, let's go, then. Aoife, do you know where we're staying?" Aidan stood and pulled Sunnild up with him, only to have to brace himself as she staggered into him with another giggle. Yep, definitely drunk.

"Of course, Lord Aidan. Lord Searlas has made a room available to you in the private wing of the manor. Follow me." She turned and led the way. Her broad hips swayed with every step, sending a pleasant jiggle through her buttocks.

Aidan didn't even realize he was staring until Sunnild leaned against him and said in a loud, drunken whisper, "Her bum's even better'n mine! I just wanna give it a spank. An' that tail! So fluffy!" Aoife laughed and added an extra wiggle to her step, her tail curling in the air behind her to frame her assets.

The catgirl brought them to a door made of smooth, dark wood with golden fixtures. She produced a key from a tiny pouch at her waist and handed it to Aidan. "Just like me, this is yours for the duration of your stay. In fact," she smirked, "these are my chambers. Please, Lord Aidan, be welcome."

Aidan hesitated. If this was her room, then where was she going to sleep? He looked at Aoife quizzically. Her smile broadened. "I told you, I am yours, my Lord." A pink tongue swept across parted lips. "Pray, accept my hospitality, come inside my private sanctum." She took Aidan's hand and guided it to the lock, pressing her soft breasts against his arm as she did. Aoife curled her tail around his waist and purred as he turned the key and the door swung open.

Aoife's room was a luxurious suite, with a sitting room, bedroom, and even a bathroom all contained inside. She nudged Aidan and Sunnild inside, then closed and locked the door behind them. Turning back to Aidan, Aoife sauntered up to him and threw her arms around his neck. "Is there anything you desire, my Lord?" She stood up on her toes as if to kiss him but stopped when her lips were a hair's breadth from his to whisper, "You are a mage. Do you have any way to keep conversations private?"

Aidan blinked at her several times before the mental whiplash faded. He nodded and cast Sound Barrier. As soon as the shimmering dome surrounded them, Aoife's demeanor changed. She withdrew her arms from around Aidan's neck and dropped back down to her feet. Her shoulders slumped for a moment before she squared them and looked up at Aidan. "Thank you, my Lord. I cannot speak against my Master," she said, placing heavy emphasis on the words, "but Lord Searlas has grown sloppy in the last week and didn’t forbid me from telling you his plans. He told me to seduce you. He wants you happy and pliant so that you're more agreeable to his plans. I don't know his end goal, but he thinks you’ll be valuable to him."

Aidan frowned, trying to parse her words. He must be drunker than he thought because connections were coming slower to him than usual. "So he lied about you?"

Aoife grimaced. "I cannot speak against my Master."

"What can you tell me about him?" Aidan walked over to a nearby chair and sat down on it. Sunnild plopped herself in his lap a moment later, although her giggles vanished with Aoife's revelation.

"He is both smart and cunning," she replied without hesitation. "Unlike his predecessor, he doesn't rule by fear; he has subtler methods. He was raised as Chieftain about two and a half years ago after challenging the previous Chief, Lughan, to a duel and winning. Searlas has publicly worked to undo the old Chief's least popular policies. He's well-loved by the common folk as a result, although the nobles and merchants are much less happy with him."

"That doesn't sound so bad," Aidan said, tone questioning.

Aoife shook her head. "I've only been here for two months, so my information isn't complete, and I cannot speak against my Master." This time she accompanied her words with a gesture at her neck. Aidan's eyes dropped to the golden collar. Now that he was so close to her and no longer distracted by the press of petitioners, he could make out the engravings. Unfortunately, his Cunning Linguist Trait didn't help him decipher the symbols. Must be functional magic, then, he decided.

"Alright," he said, "what do you want from me, then?"

"I don't know," she said, slumping into the chair next to Aidan's. "The collar can't be removed; believe me, I've tried. It doesn't even have a seam. Whatever it's enchanted with sealed it around my neck when that asshole slaver put it on me. And Lord Searlas bonded himself to the collar's control bracelet, so I cannot speak against my Master, I cannot attempt to escape from my Master, and I cannot act against my Master."

Aidan frowned. "Aren't you acting against him now, though?"

Aoife shook her head. "Not according to the collar, I'm not. I can't—physically can not—attack him, his allies, his holdings, or his family. I can't provide material assistance to his enemies, nor can I allow harm to come to him through inaction. I can, it appears, speak in vague terms about his plans to someone he wants to make an ally of. Believe me, if the collar thought I was breaking a rule, all of us would know it."

"Back to what you want me to do, then?" Aidan prompted.

"There isn't much you can do. I guess what I really wanted is to keep you from being blinded by Lord Searlas's charisma. I can tell that you're a good person, and I don't want you to end up being made a pawn in evil plans."

"I see," Aidan said even though his alcohol-addled brain was still working through everything. "Thank you for the information, Aoife." He yawned; it had been a long day. Aidan's focused on Sunnild, smiling when he noticed that her eyes were closed and her breathing slow and regular. "I think I'll get some sleep." He stood and carried Sunnild over to the bed, then started working at the buckles and straps on her armor.

The sound of Aoife locking the door behind him made Aidan turn around. She had a resigned look in her eyes. "Lord Searlas ordered me to seduce you," she repeated and took a step toward him, "and I cannot disobey my Master's orders."