In Loki's Honor

The gates had no guard detail. They were either open and free to cross or closed and watched. The volume of people going to and fro, carrying goods to be shipped, fresh fish to be sent to outlying settlements, and travelers going on with their day forbade that. And all the shady dealings weren't done through the front gate. The pirates, smugglers, slavers, rogues, thieves, assassins, insurgents, spies, infiltrators, all those had other ways in and out of the city.

In times of peace, the wall was a mere formality. It didn't mean they weren't watched. Some groups had people watching the gate, using {Appraise} to check for Levels and Classes. I felt a few gazes tracking me. A woman without a level wasn't uncommon. It meant it was one that didn't have her first period yet. Given that I aged at one-tenth the speed of others, I looked like I was still fourteen years old.

After I got out of the gated courtyard, I took a street and ducked under the first alley. I just needed to wait for my would-be predators to follow me. The alley was a dead-end, just access to some buildings that didn't open to any street. A few minutes, two big men closed the alley behind me.

The fairy was mentally smiling. she mock-imitated the System.

"Well, well. Are you lost, girl?" Thug one asked.

I turned around and beamed them a smile, "Do you know the way to hell? Because I would be troubled if you got lost on the way there."

I checked their levels. thirty-seven and thirty-five. I put a contract on both of them.

"I love to break little girls like you," Thug two teased.

I raised my hand and a flurry of ice spikes flew toward both of them, launching the couple out of the street. One point seven million Exp. I walked out of the alley and looked around. Some other thugs that were at the gate stood there, looking at the scene.

"Next group of dead men, this way," I said and walked back in the alley.

A guy appearing in his forties stopped at the entrance of the alley. "Those were Salvatore's men. You are in trouble, girl." He was level forty-five. He surely had a rank up of both Class and Race.

"Maybe it is Salvatore that's in trouble for drawing my attention. Not many want to be on the Death Princess's bad side. Would you?"

The name-dropping caused him to pause. "Are you her?"

"There are two ways to know. You either test it yourself, or you wait long enough to see if someone else is stupid enough to."

He laughed and bowed. "What brings Your Highness to our humble city?"

"Information. Who is the best information broker in town?"

"I might be able to help you. Name's Sullivan, Your Highness. Above you."

Water gushed from underneath my cloak and rose to catch the two idiots that were jumping on me.

I didn't need to look at the drowning men to put contracts on them. "These also Salvatore's? Will someone miss them?" I asked Sullivan. "And what about you up there on the roof? I'm giving free baths today."

"Look, lady, just let them--" Sullivan never finished his phrase.

I drew my daggers and stabbed the two grappled by Nenandil's water. Straight in the heart. I got another million something. The daggers came blood-free and dry. I snapped them back on their hilts across my back.

"Next!" I shouted.

"The guard will come. Let's get out of here," He beckoned me.

I gave him a cold stare as I said, "I burned the capital with the King inside. Let them come,"

She giggled.

"Your Highness, please!" Sullivan pressed.

"I think I'm done here. Lead the way," I said and followed Sullivan. Once outside the alley, I pointed at a random thug. "You there. Go tell Salvatore he owes me an apology for his welcome committee thawing there," I pointed at the two dead thugs.

I didn't look back. I had to walk with confidence and grace, like a predator walking among a herd of herbivores. Sullivan brought me to a tavern and we quickly found a table.

"What do you drink?" He asked and flagged the serving girl.

"Any poison. The deadliest, the better. Ah, do you have any deathberry juice?"

The centuries go by but the reaction is the same. The freaking berry is as deadly as it is sweet and delicious.

"No, ma'am," the girl quivered. "We don't serve poison here."

I palmed a silver coin on each hand under my cloak and passed one of them to her when I held her hand. "That's fine. Give me your strongest liquor, as many as this can buy," I placed the other coin on the table.

The girl smiled, "Of course. I hope you enjoy Demon Lord's rum."

"New brand?" I asked Sullivan. Never heard of it.

"Yes. Some crazy brewer made it to celebrate what the {Heroine} did back in Kenan."

"Yeah, I'm glad there are such selfless people around. Someone gotta do the shitty jobs."

I heard some patrons snide comments about my choice of drink. I turned around to look at them. "Anyone want to bet against me how many mugs I can down before I pass out? Sullivan, would you please do the bookmaking?"

People started to shove coins Sullivan's way and he started to tally the bets once he came up with the odds. Once I won all the bets without even feeling tipsy, I raked the coins on a sack and grinned.

"That's what you get for betting against the Death Princess."

"You're cheating!" A burly seaman with a shark tattoed on his forearm shouted.

"Wanna bet your life?" I shot back. "I need a few hundred million Exp for my next level. Better get to work on it."

"We do not doubt your deadliness, Your Highness," A lean guy with a waxed mustache stood from a table. I didn't notice him there but he didn't enter recently. "Name's Salvatore, and I'm here to apologize for the poor welcome my men gave you. I think I need to thank you for that, I always told these idiots to not rely only on {Appraise}."

She looked at the inn and found two [Assassins] from the Master's guild watching the scene and pretending to sip their ale. She paused her gaze for a brief moment and earned a subtle nod in return.

"Come, Salvatore. Sit here with us. Bartender! Drinks for today are on me!"

The sailors and longshoremen in the tavern cheered and the bartender started to pour drinks. Salvatore sat with us.

"What can I do for you, Your Highness?"

"I'm looking for a person," I told him. "But the trail is rather cold. The last sighting was six years ago."

"in that timeframe," Salvatore sighed, "That person could be anywhere. Most probably dead."

Apricot's emotions flared. I could swear white mist came out with my cold words. "If he's dead, I want the body. And then however killed him will wish they would rather be facing a Demon Lord. What happened at the capital will look like a mud fight between children."

"I see. We can arrange the information you seek, for the right price."

"Of course," I answered, composed once again.

We sat and talked for a while. Sullivan is the Mr. Fixit of the town. Information, contacts, access to restricted items, he can get it. Salvatore is one of the gang bosses. He was a respectable level fifty-one. There were three gangs operating in the town. The Rabid Sharks, controlled by a burly half-merrow. The Drowned Sailors made of destitute sailors that can't find a job on the sea due to injury or trauma, and finally, Salvatore's own gang the Gangplank Tumblers.

Of those, the first is bullies surviving off of a protection racket scheme, the second is a band of roving marauders that never shrinks in size for too long because - according to Sullivan - destitute sailors grow like barnacles, and the third are what goes for a thieve's guild in town.

Salvatore worked with some of my fellow guildies in the past.

From the tavern, we went to visit the wharfmaster.

"There are three copies of each ledger, with cargo and crew. One stays at the wharfmaster, the other is sent to the governor's mansion, and the third belongs to the ship's captain. The wharfmaster discards old ledgers but they are never actually destroyed," Sullivan explained. "Ah. Before we go. My fees are one kingmetal coin per inquiry."

I stared in his eyes. "Do you take poisoned daggers? That's the only currency I have."

"Well, no. That's a health hazard."

"Sullivan. I'll tell you one thing. You're hired. I'm paying you two kingmetal coins. You'll stay with me and help me to the best of your ability until we find my target. I'll pay you one now and another at the end. Doublecross me and your life end."

I extended one platinum coin to him. Salvatore ogled the coin until it blushed.

The information broker quickly snatched the money. "Don't show that kind of thing out in the open!" He looked around. "Now people know I have one."

I looked around and people pretended to have a sudden need to be elsewhere. "Yeah. They also know you're in the employ of one of the deadliest people in this place. And for you Salvatore, you're getting paid once we have our information. Let's go."

The wharfmaster building had three basements. The third where the scrolls with the ledgers were stored, was below the waterline. We descended to the second basement and I expected it to be moldy and damp but it was dry and dead.

"The archivist is below us. We need to plea with him," Sullivan said. "It is in that trapdoor. Open it, talk to him below, but don't go down."

I nodded. I pulled the rusted chain that held the trapdoor in place and dust fell down. It's been some time since this was last open. The interior was dark. The only light came from the torch Salvatore was holding a bit away. My perks allowed me to see in the dark, though. I could see shelves with scrolls neatly organized.

"Who goes there?" An elderly voice asked.

"I'm the Death Princess, archivist. I need information about a person."

A groan. Sounds of metal hitting stone. The shuffling of clothes. "Death Princess. Now that's a strange name. With such a lovely voice! Are you really royalty, girl?"

"Maybe. I don't know my father. He might be some scion of a crown elsewhere. But I'd killed enough Kings that I should be one."

"Yes, yes. You reek of death and torment. Something even greater than mine." The sound stopped before I could see the figure. "If you are really the dealer of death, come down here."

"I mean no offense but I was told to not enter, archivist."

That enraged him. "Come down here! I want to see she who brings Kings to their knees and murders as much as you with my own eyes! You come here or I'll burn the archives!"

I looked back at my companions of opportunity. They shook their heads. I consulted my eternal one.

"I'm coming down."

I descended the metal ladder and got a message as I touched the floor.

You are in a blighted area. You lost 23 HP. (base 100 x 0,75 magic resistance x0,70 magic eater x 0,44 Soul Attribute)

The same message repeated every second. I had enough HP to stay for a very long time.

Nenandil warned.

I turned around and found him. A zombie sailor, for the lack of a better description. He was desiccated and mummified but still held an intelligent gaze in his eyes.

"Master archivist, well met," I nodded to him.

"You are not afraid of me," he remarked. "Well met, Your Highness. Yes, you can call me just 'archivist'. No need for the master title. How is my domain treating you?" He asked with a chuckle.

"I've received less hospitality in a gilded palace full of giggling dames and gentlemen."

"Well, well. Let me tell you the rules. You must stay down here with me while we search for the information you need. Once you are satisfied, I'll state my price."

I got a bit scared and used {Appraise} on him. Level seventy-five undead was the reply I got. Two levels above me and don't bleed. He noticed my apprehension.

"What I need is nothing beyond your capabilities, Death Princess."

"Do you want someone dead?"

He paused and sighed. "Yes."