Shipshape, Book 1 of The Cerulean Swift: a fantasysteampunk harem adventure by Trey Myr

Author:Trey Myr [Myr, Trey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-07-31T22:00:00+00:00

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I left the Whites’ mansion an hour later with four Archers in tow and seven gold left in my pocket. Simon White had bought my coins without even blinking, and was very interested in the jewelry box. I sold the whole lot to him for twenty gold, and then spent sixteen on Shaping the archers. Marjory’s cut would be the cost of the whitesteel and an extra one gold, leaving me with a very nice profit from the tower.

I was determined to use the White family Patterns as little as possible in the future, but I would still be visiting Whitecliff often, since Simon assured me that he’d be very happy to buy more artefacts.

All in all, I was very happy with the evening’s business, and looking forward to a good dinner and some ale in the Rickety Rukh.

The White’s mansion was as far from the cliff edge as it was possible to be and still remain within the old city walls, and I’d been walking for fifteen minutes before I reached the original pathway down to the grasslands beneath. The Rickety Rukh was actually built into the cliff and its entrance was two stories below the street. The sign at the entrance showed a large bird standing on one leg on top of a bar stool and holding a mug of ale in the other.

The Rukh was obviously a popular tavern, and the common room was even more crowded than the Boar and Barrel at dinner time. The clientele looked to be fairly successful traders and craftsmen, and I thanked the old-worlders for providing me with the Attire, because my regular clothes would have looked entirely too shabby by comparison.

A very large man was standing behind the bar at one side of the room, and was kept constantly busy by demands for ale, and five different serving girls had to push their way through the crowd to deliver orders to the tables. It took me a couple of minutes to locate Marjory, and when I did I had to stop and stare for a moment.

My gunner had taken the time to bathe and change clothes while I was busy with Simon White, and this was the first time I saw her in anything other than her battered and utilitarian leathers. Dressed in tight pants and a short sleeved shirt, her heavily muscled arms and legs were clearly visible. She was a hundred and ten centimeters tall and very broad shouldered, but unlike every depiction I’d ever seen of dwarven physique, she was as far from being blocky as possible. Her body tapered from her wide shoulders to a waist that was narrow by comparison, but still significantly thicker than my own and then flared into hips as wide as her shoulders and a large, but very toned, butt. Her breasts, as I’d noticed before when she hugged me, were just as large as Mable’s and looked even bigger on her shorter body, and fitted her wide frame perfectly.

The almost

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