Chapter 33: Chapter 32

Filnon’s house wasn’t very big or very filled. Though it did have two floors, so it beat Estaria’s house when it came to competitions. Getting in and throwing off her boots, she’d look to Estaria for a moment, as if gauging something.

“You tired?” Filnon asked, a casual question as she slid into her house shoes and stepped into the living room of sorts.

“No. I…I’m a bit..too wired to sleep right now” Estaria replied, her hands jittering with nervous energy. 

“Can you cook?” was quite an innocuous second question, probably Filnon deciding to put her new slave to use in the house.

 

“Not in a special manner or anything. My partner did that, mostly. She likes to rib the fact that I can’t cook but I can. Just, like the fancy shit she does” Estaria replied, looking around the place. A decent enough place to live, honestly. If it wasn’t for the whole ‘horrible monsters in the shape of a man have kidnapped me’ thing, she might even enjoy living in such a place. 

 

“Don’t have the food or the stove for anything fancy. But you’ll probably want something to eat after the Marking” Filnon asked, heading into the kitchen to pull the cooking utensils out. 

“....Marking?” Estaria asked with trepidation, heading into the kitchen after Filnon. She couldn’t say it sounded horrible like ‘mutilating’ or…another horrible thing that started with M, but the Druchii were weird, and could have something for any word.

 

“Personal slaves get a tattoo of their owner’s linage just above the heart, so people can see at a glance who owns them. Makes it easier not to piss off the wrong person. Because you know, our whole culture is almost a caricature built by one guy who’s really mad at the world and wants everyone to know it” Filnon’s displeasure of the whole situation was clear, and maybe having another Player of Estaria’s power had given her more confidence, but they still needed more power before they overthrew anything.

 

“Right. And, given your whole thing, I am guessing it hurts alot?” Estaria asked, trying not to be judging but not quite failing.

“It’s a needle being smacked repeatedly into your body to apply ink under the skin. Has The Empire somehow managed to do that without it hurting?” Filnon replied, an incredulous tone to her voice. The logic of the situation did make Estaria feel slightly abashed, so she said nothing and just hung her head and let Filnon get on with her prep.

 

Once that was done, she sat Estaria down on a chair in the living room, potted about a bit, and came back with a kit. Setting a second chair down, she got to work. Estaria’s strong skin meant that Filnon had to put more effort in than usual, and pause for a moment to sharpen the needle several times. It took them a good two hours, all told. The complexity of the crest didn’t help either, a rose coiled around a curved sword. She used mostly black ink with a touch of red to make the tattoo stand out. It was well worth the time spent making it. 

 

One thing she was not expecting, however, was a pop-up once Filnon had finished the brand.

 

Slave Mark - Owned by another, your very fate is in their hands. Only you can decide if this a temporary stop, or a permanent curse; give 50% of your earned exp to them.

 

“Great. You are stealing my shit now” Estaria exclaimed, shaking her head as she read the box.

“Huh. I did not know that could happen” Filnon put in, looking at the box. "I...have no idea how to trade exp or anything like that. I'll look into more permanent fixes, but until then" she would open her system, and then her inventory, and bugger about a bit. They had both had limited system-based interaction with Players, so it took a bit to understand and get a grasp of, but eventually they managed to find the right buttons, and Filnon gave Estaria her Stolen Soul.

"Should help mitigate the loss. I'll look for traits and items that help that further as we level up" Filnon continued. She seemed genuinely concerned about this whole thing, which was strange and nice to see. There was hope for the future with this. 

"I got one of these as well. I guess you get one from every Player you kill?" Estaria commented, the two Stolen Souls now nestled nicely together.

"When did you get that?" Filnon asked, glad to be off the awkward topic of accidental theft.

"A few days ago, actually. From the guy who killed me, ironically. Few people can take revenge that far, ehh?"

"...That's a lot to unpack. But, yea. I got mine, level 1. Ran into some Skaven, and Rat vs Druchii is a poor match-up"

"Hence the high level, I guess" 

 

With the exchange done, Estaria would focus on what she could do rather than fretting over what she couldn't, and make dinner. As Filnon stated, and as Estaria promised, there was nothing special in to make into dinner, and so Estaria whipped up a simple meal. Despite Elaine’s ribbing, Estaria was not a catastrophe in the kitchen, and could cook well enough to survive. It was eaten with very little conversation, as they had very little to converse about. Filnon was apparently a consummate dungeon runner, doing one B-rank every day along with her arena fights, which, along with her Stolen Soul, explained the level. A lot more diligent than Es was, that was for sure.

 

When dinner finished, and still not tired enough to sleep, Filnon broached the idea of the Arena. A good place for exp, and she could make a name for herself down there, if she won enough. High influence and power would help keep them both safe in this city, and money didn’t hurt either. After a short span of thought - she wasn’t exactly going to be able to do much else well in this city - Estaria agreed to it, and after washing the plates, she would turn to Filnon.

 

“If I am going to be fighting, I’ll need my sword” Es stated. Filnon had picked it up while Es was busy burying the dead, but from the abashed look on Filnon’s face, it had not stayed picked up.

“Aaabout that…see, I...” Filnon paused, biting her lip and looking evasive. She hated having to admit this, but Estaria was staring and didn't seem like she was going to just accept 'I lost it'.

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So with a sigh and a wild deflation, Filnon shook her head and bit the bolt.

"I could only push so much when it came to keeping stuff. I'm not well positioned yet, I've been too focused on power and haven't looked to my position in society. So they told me I could only keep you or the sword, since they needed something to salvage from this disaster. And while it's a nice sword, I was not handing you over"

 

Estaria would just stare for a few moments. Filnon's awkward expression and shuffling feet was cute compared to her normal 'absolute control, absolute demurity'  appearance. So Estaria just exhaled a laugh.

“I guess that makes me your priceless relic” Estaria teased, giving a coy smile. Far from having the intended reaction, Filnon just nodded. 

“Yep” was the simple reply. “You are important to me. More irreplaceable than any sword. Chances of getting another Player in a situation that allows for amicable interaction is so low it basically doesn’t exist. I’ll give anything to keep you”

 

With her prank ruined, Estaria deflated, and shook her head, letting the Druchii take her hand and drag her off into what looked to be a dressing room. Placed in front of a full length mirror, Estaria was caught in a whirlwind of motion, and watched as Filnon, with her unnatural elven grace, flitted about the room, stripping her naked and then painting Estaria’s face, styling her hair to an extent the short crop allowed, and then dressing her in a criss-cross sash of such sheer material she might as well not wear anything. Coupled with the silk underwear that was so tight she was showing everything, even through it. Though she couldn’t deny she did look good, with the blush and red lips accenting her own crimson hair, and allowing the tattoo to stand out even further. The silk was also red, though the sash was so sheer colour was hard to see.

 

“I look like a whore” Estaria commented bluntly. “One of the unsubtle bints in posh brothels” 

 

“Arena fighting is as much showmanship as it is murdering the other guy. So you gotta look the part. You have to have an appearance that stands out. And looking at you, you really stand out. Nobody is going to forget Tara, the Crimson Whirlwind~”

 

Filnon seemed to be excited about the name, but Es just raised an eyebrow.

“Tara? You steal my xp, you steal my sword, and now you steal my name? You are more of a thief than any I have ever seen. Besides. It’s Tar-ree-a, not Tara” Es emphasized, not that Filnon seemed to care.

“Tara is cuter, and sounds better. Rolls off the tongue better than Taria the Crimson Whirlwind” Filnon would stick to her guns and turn from her now she was all dressed up. 

“I’m not saying it isn’t a nice name, but it’s not mine. I don’t want them announcing the wrong name to the whole damn city” Es was not giving up either, since her name was pretty important. Though Filnon just gave a laugh and shook her head.

 

“They won’t. You’ve got to win at least three or four matches before you start getting announced. Now come on, let’s see where we can slide you in” Filnon ordered, gesturing to the door. Es followed, begrudgingly, glaring at her the whole time.  

“You are not giving up on this, are you?” Estaria asked with a grumpy tone.

“If you are really against it, then yes. But I would appreciate you giving it some thought. Stage names are important for fame”

 

With that said, Es went quiet, to give it some thought. It helped keep her mind off the fact that she was drawing every eye in the city, dressed like this. And it didn’t help when they got to the Arena either. Apparently, short notice like this only had one fight lined up, and it was hardly highly billed. They had an Orc lined up to fight Jack The Knife, but the Orc went and tried to eat one of the trainers before the match and now they were down one Orc. A replacement could be dragged out, but the crowd would be displeased regardless and the take would be a pittance. 

 

Filnon signed Es up anyway, and she found herself in front of the gate. They had neglected to give her any weapon at all, so she was going out in this damned outfit, fighting bare-handed. She could think of better situations to be in, but there was no use griping, she just had to get out there. Door opened, and the crowd were clearly predisposed to a harsh judgment. A couple of raised eyebrows over Estaria’s outfit, but other than that it seemed they were just waiting for Jack to kill her so they could go heckle the administrator. 

 

Jack himself came out, spinning the eponymous knife in his hand, and had a more animate reaction to her outfit.

“Seems they sent me a pleasure slave rather than a fighter. Tell you what, dear. If you give these guys a different kind of show, I’ll let you live. You’ll not find a fairer offer in this city” He flipped his knife up and caught it as he spoke, a habit much like a coin. Estaria, however, was already irate at the loss of her sword and the outfit she was in, so kicked off at full speed, using Double Slice with her fists to get off a pair of strikes.

 

The first carved off his luck, and the second took a chunk of his health, the roundhouse smacking against his face and scattering a pair of teeth from the force. Getting a bit into it, she decided to try and show off, leaping into the air and spinning, lashing a kick out at Jack. Of course, while basically trained in unarmed combat, she was far from anything resembling real proficiency, and whiffed the kick entirely, landing on her ass. That at least, got a laugh from the crowd.

 

Jack used the time to recover, and went absolutely wild from the pain and humiliation. His knife swung wildly, but Estaria followed the trail and dropped a punch into his ribs at the end of it. As Jack tried to recover from the blow and his failed swing, Es grabbed his wrist and twisted the arm, snapping bone and spilling blood from the compound fracture in a spectacular show. Jack was swaying at this point, and so Es rolled back, and swung a punch that was wildly telegraphed, but equally destructive. The blow landed on Jack’s skull and it crunched from the force, casting him into the sand, where he didn’t so much as twitch.

 

The crowd, having expected a poor show, were actually not sure what to think. A few were impressed, but most were just relieved that they hadn’t wasted their time coming here after all. Estaria was not quite so happy, her knuckles hurt and she had made a bleeding mess of that fight, far from the flowing grace of her blade. She needed to learn how to do this better just in case they decided to just throw her in the arena with nothing to her name again. Absolutely going to talk to Filnon about that little part of her continued participation in arena fighting…

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