Freezing Shadows, Chapter 86 (Patreon)

Chapter 86: Homestead

Thankfully, there weren’t any further ‘issues’ between Oralath and Olassalen. But that didn’t mean we were in the clear, just yet. Naturally, the interstate didn’t just roll up straight to the family estate. Which meant we were going to need to go through the city a bit.

The Market Street exit let us out into Salem proper, in the East Lancaster neighborhood. The vans were in Telestrian Industries corporate colors. That was the ‘home-grown’ megacorp. Just an A-ranked mega, since its major influence was pretty much limited to Ola Serin, even though it did have offices in Seattle and the Kingdom of Hawai’i. That was enough that Telestrian could have corporate security forces, though, even if their property wasn’t immediately extraterritorial, like the AA and AAA megas.

Of course, we didn’t have valid Telestrian plates or ID codes broadcasting from the vehicles. Spoof chips and morphing license plates did a decent fake, but they wouldn’t stand up to any real scrutiny. But the point was not perfect replication. We weren’t trying to infiltrate a Telestrian campus. We were trying to have the kind of social invisibility that made people just gloss over you without looking too closely. After all, if you hear hoofbeats, you think horses, not zebras. So long as we didn’t do anything to really draw attention to ourselves, we ought to be able to avoid having anyone look closely enough at the vans to spot the fakes.

That was the thing too many people forgot about stealth. There was the active, hiding in shadows kind. And that was good. There was a time for that kind of thing. However, there was also the social type of stealth. The kind that made you just unremarkable enough to not be remembered, even when driving a van that was obviously up-armored like a tank. There were enough corpsec vehicles in the world that, so long as you didn’t pop turrets or send out combat drones, people wouldn’t think about it too much, so long as you looked like you belonged.

In our case, we looked roughly like corpsec if you didn’t take too much time to examine things. Obeying traffic laws and generally not doing anything to make a nuisance of ourselves meant that people didn’t take more than a second look. An armored vehicle escorting a couple other corporate vehicles wasn’t rare for trips between sprawls, and Telestrian had facilities all around the country.

Market Street became Swegle Road as we crossed 45th Avenue, and no one said a thing. We took a right on Cordon Road, and then a left on State Street, heading away from the city center. The family estate was on what used to be a couple farms, back before the plague came through and wiped out the families that owned them. The property was roughly rectangular, half a kilometer on the long side, facing State Street, with a three hundred and fifty meter run on the 78th Avenue side. The three meter tall wall surrounding the estate looked like brick, but I knew from the memories that it was actually reinforced plascrete, tough enough to tank a shot from a cannon at close range. The security system had been state of the art, a decade ago, but I had no way of knowing how it had been updated since then.

I stepped out of the van as we pulled up to the gate, and tapped the console on the outside. New. The estate had been maintained.

The screen flashed to life, revealing an elf in designer clothes, the kind that were classy and formal without actually being formal. The line was popular amongst those who worked as domestics but their employers didn’t want to go the full ‘butler and maid’ routine. Even with drones to help with a lot of the manual labor, estates like this one still required staff to function, but after the revolution the classic butler/maid look drew the wrong kinds of attention. Better to have something simpler, that still showed status.

“This estate is private property. Who might you be?” The elf’s tone was polite, respectful, but gave absolutely no doubt that he wasn’t going to just let us in if we didn’t have business here. Not hostile, and not smugly looking down on ‘lessers’, but not friendly to strangers either. The perfect balance for how the country had changed. He clearly had training.

“Mirikon Mollen, with friends. I believe we are expected.”

“Ah, Lord Mollen. Yes, you are on the list. Please come in.”

It had been a long time since someone called my character ‘Lord’, other than that first meeting with Countess when I joined the Conclave. Not since the revolution, according to the in-world memories I had. It wasn’t exactly safe for an exiled noble to go flaunting his old title, after all. And the people who would remember it were mostly on this side of the border.

I stepped back into the van as the gate opened. The grounds were lovely. The landscaping was a more ‘natural’ type. Or, rather, the fake natural that allowed for more defensive options. Trees provided shade, and blocked sightlines to the mansion, but also concealed sensors and traps, and other defenses. If I remembered properly, there would be some snares, land mines, pit traps, and even a few turrets hiding in bushes. All quickly scaling to lethal levels.

If memory served, the defenses had an IFF setting. Those who were family or staff had special tags implanted under the skin, which connected to the security system, and disarmed traps and mines when they were close. It wasn’t a perfect system, since connectivity meant hackers could bypass or control the defenses, but that is why the family made sure to have a matrix specialist or two as part of the staff.

The mansion was situated in a clearing, with fifty meters from the building to the tree line in all directions. Small spires on the roof concealed turrets that would take advantage of the killing field if an intruder made it this far. There was a reason that my in-game father had been killed while he was in Olarath on business, not at the family compound. The estate was designed to be defended.

Berzerker: Wow, Master. I know you said you came from elven nobility. But knowing it and seeing it are two different things.

Sexkitten: Ooh, this is so cool!

Twilight: Breathe, girl breathe. You’re already his. Don’t think about the sexy elf noble and his mansion.

I chuckled at Twilight’s thoughts leaking into the chat thanks to her being flustered, but my attention was drawn to middle of the circular drive in front of the main entrance. The fountain in the middle of the circle had four figures in the nude, as I expected. They looked as though they were in the midst of a hedonist exhibition. A male troll holding a dwarf woman aloft, eating her pussy. An elven woman mounted with the troll’s dick in her ass, while a human man fucked her cunt. All four had looks of bliss on their faces, as water sprayed from the human, elf, and dwarf’s mouths, as well as the elf and dwarf’s nipples.

The truth was that my in-game mother had captured the four responsible for father’s death, and hit them with one of her custom spells called Infinite Pleasure, a permanent version of the Orgasm spell, while assistants had positioned them. She turned the troll to stone first, and then positioned the dwarf, elf, and human in turn. Letting each of them see the fate that awaited them. The human was last, because he had been on father’s security detail, and had betrayed him. That is why fear colored the stones in the Astral. They all knew they were trapped, and that there was no escape.

The reality of the situation got darker considering what I had heard from FlickerKat about the person I’d hit with my Permafrost spell in the beta. According to her, the girl I’d hit with the spell had been trapped in eternal sensory deprivation, unable to see, hear, or feel anything, and unable to actually die. Since that spell was based on the one used to make this fountain, the chances that these four were still trapped in an eternal hell were not small.

I put that out of my mind as I saw other vehicles in the drive. Others were here. There was a very expensive-looking sports car that was the same bloody crimson color that my in-game mother preferred. An enclosed monocycle from the New Horizon Group called the Revolution. Little too open for my taste. I preferred to have armor between me and anyone shooting at my ride. There was a cyan-colored Tsarina next to it, no clue who it belonged to. And then, there was a little Honda Spirit, a basic, three-wheeled commuter vehicle that looked utterly out of place here.

We parked next to the other vehicles, and piled out of the vans, to find four people waiting for us at the front door. Two men, two women, all elves. One of them was the elf I saw on the screen at the gate. Must be the staff for the grounds. As we piled out of the vans, the man in the center bowed slightly, and the others followed him.

“Lord Mollen, it is a pleasure to welcome you home after so long. I just wish it were under more pleasant circumstances. Please allow me to introduce myself, and the main staff. I am Kyle Ellis, Head of Staff here at the manor.”

He motioned to his left, where the other elven man was standing, and then to the two women at his right. Each nodded respectfully as they were introduced. “Louis Hart is the Chef, responsible for preparing meals. Mollie Burns is our Security Chief, with a specialty for digital protection. And Mya Ryan is the Chief Caretaker for the mansion. There are others on staff, of course, but we four are the ones in charge.”

I nodded. “It is good to meet all of you. As you can imagine, travel from Seattle is not easy, at the best of times, and these times are far from the best, especially as we needed to make sure we were properly equipped for the matter ahead. There are things we should discuss with Lady Shadowkeeper. Is she available?”

“Of course, Lord Mollen. Lady Shadowkeeper asked me to bring you and your companions to the sitting room, where she is waiting with Countess Mollen and the family.”

Iceblade: Well, girls. I guess you’re going to get to meet the family. According to the implanted memories, most of them should be on the less judgy side of things, when it comes to the whole Elven Superiority thing.

Babydoll: So, we talking the Prejudiced quality? What level?

Iceblade: Probably no more than Biased against Non-elves. The family is too ruthlessly pragmatic for more than that. But, well, Elves are the pretty ones, and all that.

Shadowgirl: Yes, we are. preens

Sexkitten: Down, girl. Don’t play into stereotypes just because you’re eager for another round of ‘keeping your magic up’. Just wait until tonight. We’re going to see how big Master’s bed is, and then we’ll try to break it with him.

Ellis led us through the mansion, which was just as grand as I ‘remembered’. The sitting room was on the ground floor, through the foyer, and down the hall to the left. Big enough to fit thirty, and still be comfortable, if I recalled correctly. I remembered, because there was a memory of my younger sister’s soccer team gathering there after a big win during secondary school.

Ellis knocked twice on the double doors, but only waited a moment before turning the knobs and opening them. Just enough time for sensitive conversations to stop, but not long enough that it would leave guests waiting outside. Again, I had to acknowledge that he was well trained at his job.

“My Lady, Lord Mollen and his retinue have arrived. They say they have things that they wish to discuss with you.”

“Thank you, Kyle. Please, have Louis prepare some refreshments. I am sure they could use something to recover from the road.”

“Of course, my Lady,” Ellis said as he bowed, and left, leaving us facing Shadowkeeper, and my family.

I smiled, and said, “Well, it has been a while.”