Chapter 315: A Good Quest Is Hard to Find
Wesleys help made all the difference, Im not going to pretend it didnt. Maybe I should have asked for her help earlier. Maybe I should have taken a backseat and let her take total control.
The thing about asking for help is that its never a good thing, for you or for the person youre burdening. Youre trying to make your life a bit easier by making theirs a bit harder. Or a lot more.
Some people dont mind, even feel validated by it. But theres always some blowback. Some feeling of resentment, unless its a truly balanced relationship. But when do two people have equal needs in a timely manner?
You drive me to the airport, I drive you to the airport. You help me move, I help you move. It just doesnt work that way, and you end up with one side benefitting more than the other.
Basically, its much healthier to never ask anything of anyone. At least Ive always felt better when people dont ask me. I assume its the same in reverse.
But Wesley had intervened without being asked, and by simply nudging the process along in the direction I had already got it rolling in.
You dont see that kind of Good Samaritan very often. You dont see Bad Samaritans at all, of course, but thats because they always kill any witnesses.
This may have been a fantasy world filled with monsters from myth and fable, but I hadnt expected to encounter the most fictional of all creatures, the legendary Decent Human Being. Wesley was making me start to think Id just been hanging with the wrong crowd, for approximately my entire life.
Having said that, it didnt go unnoticed by me that when Wesley decided to make her move, she took over my body without asking. If she had the ability to do as she pleased, her restraint was the only thing letting me take the lead. Which was nice of her, but what was she even thinking?
Uncle Malmur was lying in the street, head down, along with the rest of the locals. He probably wasnt very happy about it. His toga was going to need washing. He kept peeking up, but not at me. It was his nephew he was keeping an eye on.
Damicar was sobbing loudly. The Piscine Cuisine had been vibrated into rubble, and a haze of dust filled the air. The fire had gone out, though, so that was good. I didnt want to attract too much attention.
Sure, Id probably alerted everyone in a 5km radius that something was up, but a fire would help them pinpoint me quicker. I could still keep a low profile and hang all this on the Golden God. Probably.
There were two things Id sort of figured out, so far. Malmur wanted Damicar out of the way. And he didnt want him dead. Which might have been for sentimental reasons (I fucking doubted it), or he might actually need him alive for something.
Hed given Damicar this small location to mess about in, but made sure he wouldnt get successful. It was close enough that he could be watched, but tucked away so nobody else was paying attention.
If this was to do with inheriting his fathers place at the head of the Corleone family, he could have simply killed Damicar. Nobody would have cared.
This had all the hallmarks of a classic side mission. Here was I, trying to make my way in the world (which takes everything youve got, allegedly), and suddenly Im in the middle of the Battle of the Five Families, the Tolkien-Puzo crossover event no one expected.
I know it was you, Frodo. You broke my heart. You broke my heart.
Sure, I could help Damicar reclaim his rightful place at the head of the table, but what good would that do? He was hardly cut out for a life of organised crime, and if he tried to make it a less criminal enterprise, he would probably make things worse.
As terrible as authoritarian regimes are, they serve a purpose. Yes, life could be better and fairer, but simply removing the current bad guy wont achieve that. It will leave a vacuum that will get filled with violence and chaos. Its a bad idea, or as its called in history books, American foreign policy.
I preferred to leave the local politics to the locals. Let them sort it out. I was only interested in getting out, and Id already wasted too much time. Hopefully, any interested parties would be too far away and too busy to have noticed what I was up to. My own party probably wouldnt care, but Joshaya was still around, somewhere, and Id rather not have him stick his nose in.
People were coughing and backing away. They were still on their knees, so it was hard to avoid the vomit. Cries of disgust rang out as they slid around.
I shuffled closer to Malmur and crouched beside him.
Listen, I dont know why you forced your nephew to waste away out here, but I think I can solve both our problems. Just give us enough money to start fresh, and Ill take him to Requbar. You wont have to worry about him.
It seemed like a reasonable offer. I had no intention of going back to Requbar, but there were probably lots of business opportunities for a talented chef like Damicar. Id happily give him whatever was left after I bought my ticket. He could go wherever he wanted.
Something blew up in the back. Some oil? Everyone was back to genuflecting.
No, said Malmur vehemently, his nose on the ground. He cant leave the city. I wont allow it.
He might as well have had an exclamation mark hovering over his head and a tee shirt that read: Ask me about my latest side quests.
Clearly he needed Damicar to be here in Gorgoth. Probably for some nefarious reason. It was none of my business, and I wasnt going to choose the dialogue option that asked for more information. Damicar quietly sobbed as the dust cleared and the gutted carcass of the only home he had revealed itself.
Fine. Pay me, and Ill go, I said. A beady eye brimming with suspicion swivelled in my direction. The Golden God wants me to take your boy with me, I continued, but I think I can work quicker on my own, if I have the funds.
My approach was simple. Convince him I didnt like having Damicar foisted on me, let him pay me to go away. Gods were annoying in their insistence you do things their way. Build me an ark, free the Israelites, kill your first-born Everythings about what they want. They never ask you what movie youd like to see.
If I made it seem like I thought Damicar was as useless as Malmur did, then it made sense that Id rather abandon him, just like everyone else had.
Okay, it isnt nice to pile on like that, I know, but Damicar wasnt going to notice. Give him a nice bunch of onions and hed be happy as pig in shit.
How much? said Malmur. This guy got it.
The problem was, I had no idea how much money I needed. Maybe I should have checked ticket prices before embarking on my fish-selling strategy, but things were a bit hectic back then, and I hadnt expected to run into so many obstacles.
Catch a few fish while things settled down, sell them on the cheap, go to the ticket office. If I still needed more money at that point, I could do some more fishing. Id know what price theyd fetch, and how much more money Id need. It was a solid approach.
Unions, that was the problem. Bloody unions.
Make me an offer. I tried to sound confident, like this was my usual opening gambit.
A thousand cronks. And you dont come back.
What was a cronk? Was a thousand a lot?
A thousand? Come on. If you arent going to be serious... It was bound to be a low amount to start with.
Okay, okay. Two thousand.
Id gotten him to double it, but if he was willing to make such a large increase it suggested it hadnt been all that much to begin with.
I can see Im wasting my time, I said. Was I? No fucking idea. I started to get up.
He grabbed my arm. Wait. I was just testing the water. Five thousand.
What I needed was someone with a notebook full of currency conversions charts. Or someone to read his mind. The realisation only made me irritated.
Double it, and weve got a deal. It probably wasnt a fortune, but surely it was enough to get me a berth on the next boat out of here. People were getting to their feet, and I wanted to leave before they started asking me to put in a good word with the Golden God for them.
Alright. Malmur looked annoyed, which was a good sign, right? But I need time to get the money together. Two or three days.
Another good sign. If it was hard to get hold of that much cash, it was probably a lot. I hoped Id be able to carry it all. But I didnt want to have to wait.
What about the Municipal Directory? Can you transfer funds to my account.
He looked startled for some reason. He was a big wig, he probably had an account there. Then he glanced at Damicar. No. Not there. Ill find the money. Just give me a few hours.
What was with the sudden change to the schedule? A thought occurred to me.
I got up and walked over to Damicar. Hey, do you have an account at the Municipal Directory?
No, he said through his tears. He had a half-eaten onion in his hand. I think he had plucked it out of a crack in the paving stones.
Oh. There was that idea nixed.
My father had one.
Aha! So its yours now?
I dont have access to it until I come of age.
And when will that be?
Not for another three years.
This was starting to make sense now.
Do you know whats in there? Anything good?
Yes, of course. The most precious thing imaginable. My fathers recipe book.
It could have been recipes for potions. Or how to turn tin into gold. Magic recipes?
Yes! His fish pie was pure magic. Such rich flavours, they cast a spell on the senses. He went all dreamy for a moment. Oh, and therell be some deeds and contracts and stuff.
Malmurs face flinched.
It felt good. It was like in an RPG, when you fight some random mobs and they drop useless loot. Horn of Colexya, what the hell is that? But you pick them up anyway because when do you not pick up every bit of trash in an RPG? and then you get to the end of the stage, and theres an NPC, dressed up in flash gear, but immune to damage no matter how often you hit him, with a big yellow exclamation mark above him.
Before I allow you into this place youve travelled across the map to get to without fast travel, fetch six of this thing that drops back where you started.
Bloody hell, you think, six of what thing? Horn of Haha, I have those in my inventory!
Such a nice feeling to have the quest items on you without even realising. You can hand them in without moving.
Oh, youre back says the NPC, as per its programming.
Fuck you, Captain One-Job (first name Uhad). I never left!
Thats how I felt at that moment. Id avoided having to go on some wild goose chase to find out what was going on between uncle and nephew. Damicar was the only one who could get into his dads lockbox. But not for another three years. After that, I was sure hed be sent on a long walk off a short pier. Until then, he had to be kept safe and sound.
Damicar, forget all this. Come with me. Ill show you how to live like an adventurer.
Really? said Damicar. You think I could?
Of course. Itll be dangerous, but there will be lots of things for you to cook. Rare and endangered species that will taste amazing.
No, no, you cant leave, said Malmur, a look of desperation filling his face. I promised your father.
I didnt know what the papers in Damicars account related to, or why Malmur couldnt just get them out some other way if Damicar died, wouldnt Uncle Malmur be next in line to inherit the account? but he was clearly shitting himself at the thought of Damicar running off towards his doom with me. At this rate, I might be able to afford my own suite on board the SS Gucci.
I can get you the money now.
Triple, I said.
Yes, yes. This way.
It could still be a trap, but I could always take Damicar hostage. He was such a helpful lad, Im sure he wouldnt mind. And it was probably easier for Malmur to pay me off and get rid of me. I was finally getting to do things my way, running the operation with no interference. Finally I was coming out on top.
Stop, said a familiar voice. Grayson, Commander of the East Gate, was standing in front of a fully decked-out platoon. He didnt look very happy. Youre all under arrest.
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