“Ok,” I replied with a sigh, send me the quest.

“Hold on,” Panda said, holding up his paw, “why ask us?”

“Actually,” the director replied, “I’ve offered this quest to every adventurer in town. It’s an emergency, guild-wide quest. Sadly, a lot of my adventurers are currently out of town on contracts, but all those still here have been assigned the same quest.”

“Lay it on me,” I said with a reluctant sigh.

Emergency Quest:

Put Down That Pickaxe

Civil unrest has erupted across Cali Port between the capitalist and communist factions. Find a way to stop the madness before someone gets hurt.

Objectives:

Stop the protests: 0/1

Reward: A mobile base for your team.

“A mobile base?” Bell squealed, “that sounds awesome! I wonder what it’ll be? Ooh, maybe it’ll be a flying aircraft carrier like in Avengers.”

“I hope it’s a mobile tree house,” Panda added, “stocked with natural bamboo and with a hot spring included.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Asmodeus said, “the only mobile base fit for one such as I would be a flying fortress with stealth capabilities and a legendary-grade weapons attached.”

I couldn’t help but smile at their excitement, though knowing my luck it’d be a tent and not even a magic one, just a bog-standard festival style tent that would blow away with the slightest breeze.

Regardless of the reward, if we wanted to be able to leave Cali Port to continue on our way to Castalor we were going to have to complete this quest.

My stomach sank as I thought about meeting the communists. Knowing this stupid world they would be utterly ridiculous and they’d probably call me comrade and think I was one of them thanks to that stupid torch I had stuck in my inventory.

“Ok director, we accept,” I said begrudgingly. “Do you have any places for us to start in?”

“Please, call me Freja,” she replied with a calculated smile, “and yes actually, there are two main locations that I need you to start with. The first is the gate itself, I need eyes on the crowd there. If all hell breaks loose, it’ll start there. The second place is outside a government building not far from here, one of the leaders of this communist movement is conducting a protest there.”

“I’ll check out the gate, Gonads,” Sally said, piping up for the first time since the meeting began, “the rest of you can check out the government building.”

“Of course,” Freja replied, “thank you for your assistance in this. Please feel free to pop round any time if you need anything. I will help as much as I can.”

With that we bid her goodbye and took our leave. Once we reached the foyer the guard pointed us towards the back exit, which meant that thankfully we wouldn’t have to push through the angry mob outside a second time.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Sally left with barely a word and I made her promise to keep in contact. Then the rest of us headed back in the direction we’d originally come from.

“I wonder what these communists are going to be like?” Bell asked, an air of whimsy to her tone as if this entire quest was simply a game to her. She seemed oddly excited; it would have been infectious if not for the sinking feeling in my gut.

We walked for a short while back in the direction of the kangaroo court when I spotted our likely objective.

On the opposite side of the street from us stood a group of extremely small humanoids holding picket signs. I couldn’t quite hear what they were saying, but they stood in front of a government building.

“This has got to be the place,” I declared to Bell and Panda’s nodding agreement.

“Human,” Asmodeus declared, “take me over there, I wish to see the little people.”

“You can’t call them that anymore, Azzy,” Bell began, “it’s offensive.”

“Azzy?” He roared, turning his small head to glare at the fireball mage, “… I like it! I shall permit you to address me by this nickname and I shall call you… Ifrit, after my brother, the fire demon.”

“How about you just call her, Bell… Azzy,” I interjected, “it’s only one syllable, she doesn’t need a nickname.”

“Aww,” she protested quietly as we carefully attempted to cross to the other side.

The city was structured with underpasses for those of us below the level cap to move across the road without risking death.

It was essentially treating those above the level cap like vehicles would be treated back home. I guess it wasn’t too much of a leap, getting hit by a truck would probably do less damage than getting hit by a jade soul.

“Do not call me Azzy, Human,” Asmodeus grumbled from my shoulder, “that is our thing,” he said, glancing at Bell who smiled pridefully back at him.

“Great,” I sighed, “my new familiar likes you more than me.”

“I am not your familiar, human,” he spat, “we may be soul bonded, but know your place. You are my transportation, a future soul for me to devour and, in the case of an emergency, food.”

“Don’t worry kid,” Panda said patting my upper thigh reassuringly, “I would never eat you.”

“You’re a herbivore,” I replied dourly.

As we trapsed up the other side of the underpass the shouting got louder. The tiny people were chanting and raising their picket signs which had a plethora of pictures scrawled across them. I focused on them and the notification popped up.

The one closest to me bore a crudely drawn picture of a gold coin with a large cross over it. I was about to wonder why they would be protesting money and not the conditions of the working class as were described by director Freja, but then I realised what they were chanting.

“Down with the bourgeoisie!” A little guy on a soapbox shouted in a squeaky, high-pitched voice.

“The proletariat will rise again!” The rest called back, equally high pitched.

“Oh no,” I said as my stomach did a somersault, “this is not going to be pleasant.”

I didn’t even need to read the description that popped up in my HUD when I focused on them to know what that sinking feeling was.

You have discovered a new race:

Gnome

The gnomes are a subspecies of dwarves who have evolved to be even smaller due to the lack of sunlight in the mines.

Do they photosynthesise? Who knows.

Whereas dwarves have natural abilities for working with rocks and minerals, metal working, smithing and basically anything that involves intense physical labour and skill for low pay, gnomes evolved into something else entirely.

They are the antithesis of their dwarven ancestors, preferring to spend their time on political protests, attempting to sway the other races towards their way of thinking, rather than honing their craft.

Put down that pickaxe and pick up a hammer and sickle.

After generations of being used as a cheap labour force, the gnomes decided it was about time that they saw the fruits of their labour, instead of working to make the rich, richer.

Gnomes are a hive mind species, an echo chamber who are hell bent on taking down the rich and elevating the poor.

I hope you still have The Torch of Eternal Communist Supremacy, because these little firecrackers are going to love you.

Before I had a chance to turn around and run in the opposite direction, the entire group turned towards me all at once.

They had wide, happy grins on their faces as they looked up at me expectantly.

Damn that system and its stupid passive aggrieve gifts!

“Comrade!” The leader shouted happily.

“Comrade!” The rest repeated.

“Have you come to aid us in our revolution comrade?” The leader said.

“Aid us!” The others repeated.

“What the hell is going on,” Bell asked me, “do you know these guys?”

“Explain human,” Asmodeus added, “what is the nature of your relationship with these little people?”

“I’ve never met them in my life,” I replied, holding up my hands in surrender, “but I think it might have something to do with that damned torch the system lumped me with.”

At least we were in the right place, even if it was going to be painful.