The elevator doors opened with a ding and I stepped out into a familiar office suite.

“Do you think there’s a company who build all of these glass skyscrapers?” Bell asked, “I mean they’re all pretty identical, sounds like lazy writing to me.”

“Probably,” I replied, “either that or it’s one guy with a very specific skill.”

“Liam Neeson?” Bell asked.

I ignored her.

Looking around the room it was plain to see that the only real difference between it and the director’s office back at Adventure Society was the style choices.

It seemed that Fredrick Millicent was a man of extravagant tastes.

The walls were painted a mixture of gold and royal purple and large oil paintings hung on them. The one closest to his fur coated desk seemed to be a portrait: a man sat astride a large red dragon, his bare chest rippling with sculpted pectoral muscles and a sceptre was held firmly in his grip.

It in no way represented the very average looking man who turned to greet us as we entered the room.

Fredrick Millicent wore a suit that looked a few sizes too big for him. His thinning hair was poorly covered by a combover and his massive pecs… were non-existent.

I walked towards him brashly and stood at the edge of his desk as he stared up at me with a furrowed brow and eyes that suppressed a hint of fear. I wondered if he thought we were protestors who had managed to breach the gates.

“Mr Millicent I presume?” I asked.

“I might be,” he replied shakily, “who’s asking?”

“Kaleb Akabane,” I said curtly, “I’m an adventurer and I’ve been tasked with putting an end to this civil war you’ve got going on here.”

He looked at me through narrowed eyes and then glanced around at my team. Though he didn’t seem perturbed by the sight of a smoking panda in the room, he frowned deeply when he laid eyes on the sleeping dragon in Bell’s arms.

Seriously, how had Asmodeus managed to nap through all of the ruckus outside. My wife had always been a heavy sleeper, but even she would have been roused by that racket. I was a little envious.

“I wouldn’t go as far as to call it a civil war Mr Akabane, not yet at least,” Millicent replied, “however, I would be grateful for your help. This riff raff has been causing us no end of grief these last few days. We’re losing millions of gold per day and the shareholders are one more mess away from lynching me.”

Frederick looked extremely gaunt in the face. It was hard to imagine someone as successful as him going without, but I had the distinct impression that he hadn’t eaten in days.

“Well Mr Millicent,” I said taking a seat in front of his desk, “I might have a solution to your problems, but first let’s talk a little shall we?”

“You do?” He replied hopefully before regaining his composure and fumbling for a decanter of amber liquid and a few glasses. “Any help you could offer would be most appreciated. Can I offer you a drink?”

I nodded and he began shakily pouring glasses of the unnamed alcohol. They sparkled with refracted light; small curling patterns had been sculpted into the glasses causing them to glint like diamonds.

Glassware this fine must be expensive, I thought darkly, thinking back to the homeless people we’d passed earlier.

I took a sip of the harsh amber liquid once Fredrick had poured it; it tasted like smoky motor oil and reminded me of Jack Daniels.

“So, back to business Mr Akabane,” Fredrick said, “what is it you would like to discuss with me?”

“Well,” I began, taking a moment to compile my thoughts, “mostly I’d like to know about the events leading up to these protests from your perspective.”

He gulped and loosened his tie slightly before draining his glass. There were bags under his eyes. Considering that I barely needed sleep anymore and he was no doubt levels above me, he must have been deeply stressed by the situation.

“It’s those ungrateful gnomes’ fault,” he sighed, “we’ve had a good thing going in Cali Port for generations. This city has been a cornerstone of industry, supplying wares across the continent and beyond.

“The populace has worked together like a well-oiled machine since well before my time. My father started this company after settling down from being a famous adventurer and people were happy to work for him. He was a true visionary that man. No one has ever complained about the hours or the pay rate before now.”

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

“How much do you pay them exactly?” Bell interrupted.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “that’s payroll’s job to manage. I do know that it’s at least one gold per week which is far more than they’d get in other places.”

“One gold per week?” I asked, struggling to stop my eyes from blinking rapidly in disbelief.

“I know!” he replied, gesticulating wildly, “how can they complain about it? It’s very generous if you ask me.”

“Just out of interest,” Panda said, “how much do you make per week as the owner?”

Fredrick sat back for a moment, crossing his arms and rubbing a wrinkled hand across his bare face.

“I’m not quite sure to be honest,” he said thoughtfully, “but whatever it is, I deserve to make it. I’m the owner, this is my company and I’ve worked damn hard to make it the international corporation that it is today. You have to understand, there’s a lot of risk in running a company. I could go bankrupt. So naturally, I deserve the biggest slice of the pie.”

“I thought you said your father started the company?” I asked, folding my arms.

“He did,” Fredrick replied nonchalantly, “but I run it now.”

“Ok,” I sighed, “well we’re not here to open that particular can of worms. The solution we have is pretty simple. All I need is for you and the council to agree to meet with the communists for a discussion. That’s all they want.”

“A discussion?” He asked in a high pitched and offended voice, “why on Celestia would I agree to that? Why would any of us? We’ve all worked hard to get to the positions we’re in now and suddenly these damned gnomes think they deserve a seat at our table? It’s an outrage… it’s a scandal… it’s…”

“It’s the only way you’re going to be able to stop them from dragging you out into the streets hanging you in a public execution,” I interrupted, folding my arms and giving him a poignant look.

He took a step back, locking eyes with me. He looked tired, yet still, somehow, prideful. His features were haggard and after a moment his shoulders sagged and he dropped into his lavish chair with an overly dramatic sigh.

Pouring himself a large glass of the motor oil booze, he downed it in a single go and then reached into his draw and pulled out a long cigar. He lit that and began puffing on it like a chain smoker would with a cigarette.

I was pretty certain that wasn’t the correct way to enjoy a cigar, but I kept my mouth closed.

“Fine,” he said defeatedly. “I’ll convince the council, but I have one condition.”

I raised my eyebrows to get him to continue.

“I want you and your party to attend as well,” he said, refusing to meet my eyes. “If you back our agenda in the talks I’ll make it worth your while and if not… well, we could always use extra security. You can’t trust those wretched commie gnomes.”

“You do know that gnomes are only one of the races that’ll be attending right?” Panda asked, taking a cue from the businessman and puffing on his own bamboo pipe.

“Of course I do!” He spat, “but before they showed up the others were happy to fall in line and do what they’ve always done. Mark my words, you can’t trust the gnomes, this is all their fault.”

“Oh definitely,” Bell agreed sardonically, which seemed to go right over Fredrick’s head. “It’s got nothing to do with the wealthy fat cats like yourself exploiting poor workers for cheap labour, this is entirely the gnomes’ fault for putting ideas in their heads.

“My family’s company wasn’t exactly renowned for giving their employees benevolent wages, but it was at least enough to live on.”

That was the second time she’d mentioned her family owning a business. Was Bell rich back home? She certainly didn’t act like she had been… most of the time.

“I’m glad you agree,” Fredrick said curtly, “it’s nice to see that Adventure Society, at least, has reasonable employees. What was your name miss? I have a son who is of marrying age and-”

“Yeah…” I said, cutting him off and rolling my eyes. “Anyway, we need to report back to the director, so can I trust you to set up the meeting?”

He frowned at me for a moment and then nodded and we left his lavish office as fast as we could. I didn’t want to spend another moment in his presence.

***

Fredrick slumped back in his chair as the adventuring party left, letting out a long sigh and loosening his tie further.

Staring into the bottom of his empty glass, he saw a much older gentleman looking back at him. His frown lines had stretched and his forehead held a sheen that was unbecoming of a man in his position.

Had this whole debacle really hit him this hard?

“Are you sure that was the right move sir?” He asked, though there was nobody present in the room.

It was, an eerie, serpentine voice said directly into his mind.

He would never get used to communicating with Chrysus this way. Fredrick still remembered the day his father had inducted him into the capitalist cabal of Cali Port.

It has been a cold winter’s evening as he rode silently in the elevator with his father. He’d always been a hard man, but Fredrick looked up to him with gleaming eyes.

A group of the wealthiest people in the Port stood in a circle wearing cloaks and hoods. It was terrifying. His father had taken out a small snake and Fredrick had been ordered to let it bite him on the collar bone. The fang marks had blackened and were still there to this day, then the voice spoke to him and he was inducted.

All he’d ever wanted was to take over the family business. He’d fought endlessly with his brothers to be the one to inherit the role. Though these days he wondered if he’d really been the winner.

He hadn’t spoken to his siblings in years, but last he’d heard his elder brother, the man who would have taken over the company if not for him, was living a peaceful life on some island to the south.

Apparently he even had a kid now. Fredrick had fought tooth and nail to usurp his brother and become the heir. Now though, he wasn’t sure it was worth it.

I need that boy, Chrysus continued, and for him to come to me he needs to be able to leave Cali Port. You will crush the opposition at this meeting and open the gates for him to leave.

“If that’s what you wish sir,” Fredrick replied monotonously. “I’ll speak to the council and see if we can arrange for something tragic to happen to the gnome and his envoy.”

Perfect, Chrysus replied, just make sure that the boy is not harmed.

Then the god vacated Fredrick Millicent’s mind and he sighed, dropping his shoulders as his body felt like it physically deflated.

He knew that he’d need to scheme carefully with the council. The god of wealth was their most important patron, without his protection his father never could have made the business what it was today and Fredrick couldn’t have continued to keep it afloat the way he did.

Luckily for him, his close friend and confidant ran a local mercenary company. All he had to do was invite the gnome in and then set his hired muscle loose. Who needed physical strength when he had money?