“So, the ShadeHaven can only be controlled by a high level [Necromancer]? That is unfortunate.” Hreidmar says.

“Why is a high level [Necromancer] required?” Forad quickly asks. “At what level would a [Necromancer] be to control the ShadeHaven?” he adds.

“Forad-” Hreidmar begins, but the [Smithlord] quickly waves his hand.

“My [King], with all due respect, if we can level a [Necromancer] to the point that they can control the ship, I think this would be a great boon to our kingdom.”

Quasi shakes his head at the greybeards. “Undead take a toll on your mana, willpower, and soul. The ShadeHaven generates its own mana, so that’s no problem, but willpower and soul barely increase with level. You mostly get those after long lives or massive trauma.”

They nod.

“Now, since ShadeHaven is a powerful undead, a [Necromancer] has to have enough will to conquer it and a very strong soul to maintain control- one moment,” Quasi raises a hand to forestall the two dwarves. “I’m sure you were going to mention skills, and I was getting to that.”

He clears his throat, “Now skills are able to boost a [Necromancer’s] willpower and improve the efficiency and lower the cost on their soul. A common, and rather dangerous, example is [Necromantic Mana Corrosion].”

At the mention of the skill, the two dwarves grimace. That skill alone is why [Necromancers] are hunted and killed. Once a [Necromancer] gets the skill, then their maximum number of undead increases from a couple dozen to hundreds of thousands.

Quasi grins at the dwarves' expressions. “[Necromantic Mana Corrosion] increases the decay rate of undead to sustain themselves. This decay reduces the soul cost of controlling the undead to a nearly negligible level. The only problem is that the affected undead don’t last long.”

Quasi grabs a filled goblet smelling strongly of citrus and alcohol. He takes a sip and nods.

“Which leads me to your main question; what level, skills, and/or number of painful deaths would allow a [Necromancer] to control and sustain Shadehaven?”

He chugs half the goblet and then licks his lips.

“The answer is that I don't actually know.”

Hreidmar and Forad stare at the young man as he grabs another goblet with his other hand. They watch as he tastes the drink before taking a strong gulp. He frowns. “I think… I think my [Poison Resistance] leveled up.” He stops moving for a moment, then his frown worsens. “Fuck, now it’s [Greater Poison Resistance]. No wonder I’m barely feeling it.”

He looks to the two still flabbergasted dwarfs, “I don't suppose you have some extra skill-enhanced booze? A Pan-Galactic Gargleblaster perhaps?”

“Mr. Eludo,” Forad ignores the question, “what do you mean you don't know? What allows you to control the ship in the first place?”

Quasi burps. He combines the two drinks and chugs the contents down. He waits for a moment and shakes his head. “Well, that's the thing. I cheated… hmm, that looks fancy.”

He leans over and grabs a bottle with a skull and crossbones on it.

“I would be careful with that. Few have survived its effects.” Hreidmar warns.

Quasi ignores the warning. He breaks the cork, pours a glass, and then swigs from the bottle.

“Ohhhh… that's smooth.”

“What do you mean by cheating?” Forad asks.

“As in, I cheated. I couldn’t resurrect Shade- which is a dungeon boss a thousand levels higher than me. Damn thing took an entire mountain to the face and still almost permanently killed me.” Quasi shakes his head, “But I digress. Since I wanted to use the monster's corpse, I ended up combining it and the Haven into an undead ship now known as ShadeHaven.”

He grins, “One of the perks of crafting unique undead is that the cost to raise and sustain said undead is only a hundredth as difficult for the creator.”

Forad takes a step back in stupefaction. “You- you have a legendary creation skill?”

Quasi nods, “For necromancy, yes.”

Hreidmar raises a questioning eyebrow at the [Smith Lord].

Forad notices the look and quickly regains control of himself. “Legendary creation skills are among the rarest in existence. They are the most coveted of all Legendary abilities.”

“So they are powerful?” Hreidmar asks.

Forad nods. “Every individual with such a skill has created miracles. Your ancestor, [Smith Sovereign Arching] Sindri had a creation skill that allowed him to ignore the negative effects of Adamantium in his smithing.”

Hreidmar strokes his beard in contemplation, “I knew that he is considered the greatest dwarven smith to ever exist, though I didn’t know it was because of a legendary creation skill. Are there others?”

“Many,” Forad explains, “Though they only appear once every dozen generations. The most recent before Quasi here was the [Golem ArchKing] Arthur of Camelot. That man is reputed to have had a legendary creation skill for golems. Rumor is his golems can regenerate any and all damage that they sustain.”

Hreidmar sighs with a shake of his head. He looks to Quasi and finds him going for another drink.

“In other words, nobody but you could ever control ShadeHaven?”

Quasi starts mixing four drinks into an empty salad bowl. He picks it up and takes a gulp that even makes Hreidmar grimace in disgust. Every dwarf knows that if you are going to mix a bunch of drinks, you either do two or more than five.

“Not true,” he licks his lips, “I believe Davy Jones could do it.”

“Of course the damn lich would be able to.” Hreidmar grumbles.

Just as Quasi raises up the bowl filled with his heretical concoction, the ground starts to tremble. The dancing, the music, and all manner of conversations end abruptly. The rumbles grow louder and louder, and all eyes turn to where the reverberations are coming from. The doors to the ball squeak open as a humanoid, metal monstrosity steps through. In the monster's palm are two massive, metallic, golden… dicks.

“Fuck me,” Quasi groans as the towering metal being stops in the center of the room and gently places the grotesquely detailed instrument on the ground.

Then the being of metal shifts. Its body moves like liquid as it seems to condense in on itself until it is the size of a dwarf… and eventually a dwarf as the metal flows into metal pants. A female dwarf with pigtails and a mismatch of equipment scowls as she looks around until her eyes fall on Hreidmar.

“Hreidmar, I brought your stupid dicks.” She taps the instrument that is indeed in the shape of an upright dick and a curved dick with four balls at the bottom for support.

“Nice, firm, and thoroughly polished just how you like it.” She says with a grin.

Curious about the woman who would shout such things to Hreidmar, Quasi takes a moment to check the woman's class out.

Amethyst Ironstone

Level 247 [Peerless Artifact Keeper]

Level 86 [Lady]

Amethyst is the current protector and caretaker of Svartalfheim’s extensive treasury. She is able to evaluate, intuitively understand, and fully utilize the effects of all items of Legendary Rarity and lower.

Raising an eyebrow at the description, Quasi takes a gander at her raiment.

Pince Nez of Discernment (Legendary)

Grants [True Sight] to the wearer.

Grand Hydra Hide Cuirass (Legendary)

Grants [Greater Regeneration] to the wearer.

Equanimous Brassiere (Legendary)

The wearer’s boobs will never sway nor sag, and the cups will always be the right size. The wearer cannot be disoriented. Increase Charisma by 100.

Ring of Greater Physical Perfection (Legendary)

Increase Strength, Dexterity, Stamina, Endurance, and Vitality by 50

Ring of the Elemental King (Legendary)

Grants [Greater Elemental Resistance] to the wearer.

Warmaster’s Gorget (Legendary)

Grants [Advanced Weapon Mastery] to the wearer.

Gauntlets of Eternal Grasp (Legendary)

Nothing will ever slip between the wearer’s fingers, be it sand or star systems. Wearer will never unintentionally drop, spill, or release something held. Wearer cannot be disarmed.

Stalwart Sabatons (Legendary)

The wearer of these boots is immune to forced transport effects of any kind.

Earing of Fomented Conscience (Legendary)

Increase Mana Regeneration by 100%

And then there's the pants.

Skin of Flowing Metal (Divine)

Created by Mimir, this item was gifted to Sindri after the dwarf [Smith] announced that none could mimic his creations. This item binds to a wielder until their death and will function as an extension of themself. The metal composition of this item is able to mimic qualities of various metals.

This dwarf is tricked out to fight enemies well above her weight class, and should be treated as a significant threat… but it's hard to take a woman who looks like a bad rpg meme seriously. Big, padded, bright green boots, clearly five sizes too big, a man’s checkered purple, red, and day-glo yellow cuirasse esthetique, a push-up bra peeking between the gaps in the sides, a single, obnoxiously large, glowing earring, a spiked black and red neckband, maroon splitter gloves, gold rings, and shiny, silver Hammer pants.

The rings are actually a bit boring, albeit still powerful.

Now, top off the outfit with pigtails, pink bows, variously, garishly colored nails, and you’ve got a short, stocky, busty woman with no shame and no fashion sense.

Quasi raises his bowl up. “Nice pants.” He then downs the rest of the contents.

She looks at Quasi and raises an eyebrow, “Did you just drink from a salad bowl?”

“I needed something to mix drinks with.”

She snorts and then grins at Hreidmar, “How fucking poor are the drinks in this party that your guests have to mix drinks in a damned salad bowl?”

“Amethyst Ironstone,” Forad’s words resonate with a blast of aura, “you are in the presence of His Highness. Show some respect.”

She grins wider as she notices Foard. Her own aura blasts back, “Grandfather! I didn’t notice you were here too. Did you also come here to stare at Hreidmar's massive, golden,” she taps the instrument, “Dick?”

Face reddening, Forad steps forward, but a hand blocks him. Hreidmar shakes his head. “I will handle this, Forad.”

Hreidmar walks forward, his aura flows from his being. The smell of rock and the tang metal permeate the air, potent, powerful… and deadly with the weight of his kingdom on his shoulders.

One moment, Hreidmar is walking towards the cheeky woman, and in the next, her unconscious body crashes on the opposite side of the room with enough force to shake the castle.

Barely a moment later and the air explodes with a dozen sonic booms, all originating at Hreidmars right arm.

Everyone boggles at the [Dwarven Archking]. The king grins. “It seems my hand slipped. Can someone retrieve my goblet?”

Everyone looks back to the woman as her body slides down the adamantine wall. On her chest is a goblet with paint already peeling from the impact, revealing the pure adamantine metal of its construction.