Marius

He licked his lips as his mind formed the thought, savoring the possibilities. He could feel the chest’s satisfaction in its assured victory – a kind of attitude he was used to. The House always wins, right? Looking at it, he could tell it knew it would be victorious.

For a moment, it reminded him of his old self. Conniving. Arrogant. Convinced of its righteousness.

He peeled away the image and forced the question from his mind:

"What’s your name?"

Silence.

Then: a shifting of the chains.

"And you know exactly what I’m asking," Marius pushed. "What’s your name – the name you had when you were an old Glancing piece of shit up there on Averix."

More silence.

"Spill," Marius demanded.

He was met with a voice that wavered on the brink of absolute rage.

"Withdraw your question."

"I’d prefer not to."

"Thief," The Mimic protested. "Withdraw your question."

"You don’t like that question I guess," Marius replied. "You don’t like it because you know what it means: You give me your name, and I have total sway over you. I could command you to off yourself right here and now. Little trick the good lady Amarata baked into you mad slavers’ bones, isn’t it? Oh, and if you deny me my answer, then you’re up shit creek, because you’ve lost this game. I suppose now you’ve just gotta think about which is worse – death, or embarrassment."

He felt the thing’s anger build up to a crescendo. He saw the vestigial keyhole burn with a lambent red-haze of rage as its owner seethed from within. Yet, when the time for thing’s answer came, all he heard was a sigh of resignation and a chuckle that approximated something akin to a kind of reluctant satisfaction.

"You know what? I’ve re-examined my initial opinion of you, Marius of Corbeck," it said. "I think you’re exactly where you belong."

"Does that mean I win?"

The grumbling chest sighed again.

"You didn’t really know, did you?" it asked. "Even scanning your mind, all you had was a simple guess to go on. I’m willing to bet you don’t even know that we call our true names 'Surface-Faces.'"

Marius shrugged, non-committal.

"Doesn’t matter what I know or don’t know, does it? All that matters is that you know the truth."

For the last time, the lolling tongue of the demon-chest licked its hinges.

"Marius of Corbeck," it said. "If there was a Luck statistic in this putrid realm, yours would already be off the charts."

The dagger hung above the creature’s chattering form till it finally relinquished its grip on this façade.

"I refuse the question. Let this farce end."

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

The knife came down, did nothing, and was gone. Marius felt the spell lift, and the entire cavern was suddenly bathed in light – globes of shining amber that lined the ceiling joints flickered into existence like they’d lain there dormant throughout his entire exchange with this pest.

They lighted the way down the only path that now remained to him.

Side quest completed: The Truthseer’s Game

EXP: +50

EXP: 100/100 – LEVEL UP!

Whatever the hell all that meant, he’d deal with it later. Right now, all that he needed to know was that he’d made progress – he’d grown such that the value of his life itself had just increased. His HP – his life-clock - was getting longer before his very eyes.

He stood and looked towards the cragged rocks that had been his constant companions for however long this dungeon-jaunt had taken him. But before he staggered off he felt something hit him.

Looking down, he perceived a small, crystal vial filled with crimson liquid.

"Take it," the Mimic grunted. "To the victor goes the spoils, and all that."

Marius inspected the bottle with the focus his eyes were becoming used to.

Item (uncommon): Tears of Yevua

HP: +20 (single use)

And just as Marius was about to make a final sarcastic quip in victory, he saw something else spinning before him: a small silver ring that gravitated towards him like a friendly pixie.

Apparel: Ring of Mimic's Grace

Max HP: +5

Marius whistled with surprise as he plucked the floating item and fit it snugly over his middle finger, inspecting it as it glowed with a lambent red aura.

"Thought you said you didn’t have anything for me?"

"I said I didn’t have ‘Water of Life’ – you think this place is would abide by such ridiculous naming conventions?"

Marius shrugged again. "I’m new here."

"Hmpf," the Mimic huffed. "Well, I suppose you provided me with some much-needed entertainment. You deserve something that shall help you live a short while longer. You are certainly more worthy than the other one that past by not too long ago. All muscle and spittle, that one. Not a gentleman for a bit of sporting wordplay. Should you encounter him, Marius, know that I shall be rooting for you down here, in the dark. A scumbag like you really should reach the lower depths more than a blunt instrument like that. Put him out of his misery, and then trundle on towards your brilliant demise.’

Marius uncorked the potion, swallowed its contents whole, and then wiped his mouth without much care.

"Whatever," he said as he walked off down the lighted path.

"Oh, Marius!" The chest cried out as he left. "Indulge just one more query from me, will you? If I don’t ask, I’ll simply kick myself."

"Our game’s done," he replied.

"Do you regret what you did?"

Despite himself, he stopped.

"This is not part of any game, you understand. You won through roguish deception, as befits one of your status. This choice is all yours – answer me or amble jovially towards your destiny like the other drones that come this way. But I would very much like to hear your answer, Marius of Corbeck. I would enjoy hearing an honest answer from the thief who bested me."

Marius drew in a deep intake of breath, and directed his response to the light at the end of the cave instead of turning back. Because at that moment, something else had flashed before his eyes.

"Regret? Nah. In the business, it slows you down. Never had much use for it in my life. The Amaratians, Yevuans, Argents, and all the sanctimonious priests out there? Regret’s their domain. It’s a drug they sell to the masses. Oh, and I’m betting you already know exactly what I did, don’t ya? I’m betting that you get your jollies out of more than just facts. Probably, you love it when folk admit they feel bad just like the priests and the priors do. But, shock horror, I’m gonna disappoint you, mate. Because the only regret I’ve got about that little incident is that, in the end, I never made a dime off the merchandise I took."

He felt the voice of the casket leave him, its aura of smugness finally thinning away till it closed up and returned to its slumber.

A scumbag through and through, it whispered as it retreated from his mind. May infernal luck be with you, Marius.

Though he knew the chest had returned to its slumber, restrained and bolted to its little spot in this empty domain, Marius lingered in the middle of the tunnel and stared towards the light. Knowing this place, it was probably another delusion. He was starting to think this this whole dungeon may have been constructed to do nothing more than break down the ‘new bloods’ that tumbled in.

If that was true, what did that say about the ones that made it to the end?

He stepped forward slowly, quieting his mind and sealing his growing fear away with the thought that, if this was The Everloft’s way of getting him to reveal some tragic backstory, it had done a resoundingly shitty job.

Persuasion: Successful.