“What do you think, Wild?” the tall man in Nordic-styled robes asked as he and his companion, clad in a druid-like robe, complete with staff, walked along the corridor of the Game Moderators' in-world headquarters for Panarena Fantasy Online. They had just come from a very tiresome meeting with their fellow GM Gallancleeve, who was under suspicion for meddling with in-game objects and quests to help his son. But nothing had been decisively proven, yet.

“If you ask me, Forseti,” Wildthunder replied, “We need to try probing Garth instead of Gallancleeve.”

“All well and good,” the taller man said, “But we can't quite accost him without proof.”

“So it's finding that proof that's the trouble.”

“I don't want us to rummage through his inventory without more decisive evidence, after all,” Forseti shrugged.

“Even if doing so would grant us that evidence?” Wildthunder scowled.

“It's in the terms and conditions, after all.”

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“I'd forgotten that,” the older man admitted. “Perhaps we can try this a different way,” he then said.

“Oh?”

“My son, Wildeye, runs a guild called the Mountain Tigers in the same area as Garth; he'd jump at the chance to help us if we explained it to him.”

“Hmm... I'll talk it over with Lumpstein and Athena; they'll probably agree, though, and we can deputize him to keep an eye on Garth.” Forseti nodded.

“Let's hope we can resolve this before either of them get out of hand.” Wildthunder said. “I don't know what's worse; that pompous arse or his slippery father!” he added with a shake of his head, and Forseti chuckled.

“At least we have one good father-son duo on this game,” the taller man smiled.

“Of course you do. I've been a respectable programmer all my life, and my son is a veteran of the last war that those damned Neo-Soviets foisted on us. He's got a head on his shoulders, that boy.”

“Ah, yes. I'd forgotten he was a real warrior. He's certainly brightened up since you brought him here to this world, eh?”

“That he has, God love him. He'll never walk again in life, but by God he can run and jump again here.” Wildthunder said with a smile. “He'll find what we need to find. Just be sure and get that grouchy, under-sized Father Christmas to agree!” he then added, and Forseti laughed again.

“I'll do that, my friend, I'll do that.”