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Tales from the Underside: Below
15. The Charisma Conundrum

15. The Charisma Conundrum

15. The Charisma Conundrum

NAME: MORTIMER

SPECIES: HALF-HUMAN HALF-UNDEAD

LOCATION: SOLONELL CITY, SILVER LINE

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ATTACK: 11

SPEED: 11

SKILL: 13

DEFENSE: 19

INSTINCT: 8

INTELLIGENCE: 19

STAMINA: 20

CALCULATED LEVEL: 25

Isaac closed out of Mortimer’s stat sheet as it automatically popped up, instead pulling up a basic note app equivalent on the tablet as he walked. Mortimer had caught up by then and was walking beside him, looking around Solonell City in a manner similar to that of a tourist who’d never been there before despite having lived in the city for most of his life.

The more they walked, the more Isaac realized he didn’t actually know where he was going, but that was fine. Exercise.

“Okay, what questions are we asking?”

Mortimer hummed in thought. “How many friends do they have? If they have any?”

Isaac winced. “Ouch.”

“The fact that you’re wincing is proof that it’s a legitimate question, is it not?”

“Okay, but some people really suck at telling if someone’s a friend. Or, I don’t know, maybe it’s complicated or whatever.”

The other man nodded slowly. “That’s true. Maybe we should still ask just in case.”

Isaac shrugged and typed out, HOW MANY FRIENDS DO YOU HAVE on the first row of the empty note app. He furrowed his brow, thinking back to all the articles he’d hurriedly read.

“Maybe we could ask how comfortable they feel in social situations or something. Feels like that’s also subjective, though.” He sighed. “It feels like most of this stuff is subjective.” Of course Lilith would try to add a stat as ambiguous as “charisma.” At least the instinct stat that she’d implemented a year ago had actually been entertaining to measure—those few months were probably the most fun Isaac ever had in the Underside. Interviewing people, unfortunately, was a significant downgrade.

“Well, we could ask how many people they’ve hooked up with. That’s usually a less debatable number.”

Isaac choked on air and quickly disguised it as a cough. “What did you just say?”

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Fable told me it’s a phrase people use in the Upper World.”

Fable, the source of 40% of Isaac’s woes. “You really need to stop talking to them. I didn’t know you saw each other so often anyway.”

“They often drop by my store. It’s nice having someone appreciate my work.”

Isaac didn’t think Fable was capable of appreciating anything except chaos, the chaos they could successfully wrought, and themselves. In that order. He squinted his eyes. Suspicious. He’d have to remember to confront Fable about it whenever they showed up again, which could be tomorrow or in the next year. Isaac liked to think of them as a particularly annoying and unpredictable jack-in-the-box.

“Okay, but is hookup culture a thing in the Underside? You know what hookup culture is, right. Because I’m not explaining it to you.”

“I know what it is,” Mortimer said in that expressionless way of his. “It depends on the species and realm. I think it’s more common in the Inferno and the Woodlands.” He paused, frowning in thought. “I think it’s common in the Abyss, too.”

“I really don’t want to think about a bunch of eldritch abominations doing that, so let’s stop this train of thought right here.”

“I thought it was a good idea.”

“We’re sticking with the friends question.”

Mortimer nodded. “Fair enough.”

Isaac let out a long sigh as he absentmindedly realized he’d been walking in a spiral shape, having unconsciously followed the weird roads while his attention was diverted. He turned and began walking in a straight line, holding the tablet up a little higher just to make sure he didn’t walk along them by accident again. Call him superstitious, but he was 99% sure something terrible would happen if he kept following the roads for too long. He remembered doing it for a few minutes once, mostly out of boredom, and he could’ve sworn the red sky had somehow darkened to an even deeper, bloodier shade. There were some things that weren’t worth the risk.

“I guess we might as well ask them if they think they have charisma, or if people listen to them or whatever. Leadership’s part of charisma, right?”

Mortimer nodded slowly, and Isaac added a new line, typing in, DO PEOPLE LISTEN TO YOU and DO YOU THINK YOU HAVE CHARISMA? He squinted at the list. “I don’t think this is actually going to work.”

“Perhaps not.”

“You’re not helping.” Isaac shut off the tablet screen.

“Oh, are we testing the questions?” Mortimer actually looked kind of excited about it.

“In theory. Not sure how it’d work though, since we’d have to personally decide if the results match up with how charismatic we think they are.”

“And you don’t think anyone is charismatic. I understand the problem.” The man hummed thoughtfully. “I believe some people have charisma skills, do they not? We could start with them.”

Isaac paused. “That’s actually a good idea,” he said. “Bless your 19 intelligence.”

“Whatever else would I use it for,” Mortimer said dryly.

After some more discussion, the two made their way over to the Solonell City subway station. They passed by a few people strolling around, including a visiting demon who seemed to be doing the equivalent of sun tanning, but by using the red sky. Isaac quickened his pace past him.

“Who are we starting with?” Mortimer asked. Isaac furrowed his brow.

“Well off the top of my head, I know Lucius has some sort of charisma skill. He shouldn’t be too hard to find, either.”

A few moments of silence passed and Isaac frowned, glancing over at Mortimer. He was about to ask what was wrong before he remembered that Lucius was Lvl 91, the strongest person in the Inferno, and one of the strongest in the Underside as a whole. Talking about him so casually was probably some sort of social faux pas.

“We could also go to someone else. Uh,” his voice trailed as he ran over sheets in his memory. “I think Rosalinde has one too? And she’s in Solonell City, so we wouldn’t have to get on the subway.” That was probably a better plan anyway.

Mortimer’s face scrunched so slightly that it was nearly imperceptible. “That’s quite alright. We can go to the Inferno.”

Isaac raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Yes.”

He gave the man another sideways look, but he was as unreadable as ever. Isaac finally shrugged, deciding to deal with whatever that can of worms was later. “Okay. Let’s head over, then.”

Mortimer nodded, and the two continued their way to the subway station. After they reached the red line platform, they only needed to wait a few moments before the train pulled up in all its screeching, clunky glory and they stepped inside.