Chapter 12 : Loose Ends

"She did what now? Do you mean to tell me they have a high grade dimensional storage item?"

Maynor Rhemott had been sitting in his comfy chair in the manor's library, just looking over some shady business documents left behind by the previous occupant. Now he was up and pacing as his butler delivered a report. Maynor had sent the man to covertly follow the two women for a while – at a considerable distance, of course.

They had briefly visited the town square in the afternoon. It had been cleaned up since the incident, but on Maynor's own suggestion the large fall blade firmly lodged in Ms. Dart's Tavern wall had been left to deal with later. In fact, he actually wanted it to remain there permanently, as a little attraction, and... helpful reminder to keep him safe.

But the mother had apparently taken a liking to it, so she "just pulled it out", and after some discussion it "just disappeared". Maynor suspected it all related to their interest in smithing. It was a lot of iron, after all – and more than would fit in a regular storage item, for sure.

The butler's strange report concluded. The women had visited a few stores, taken the fall blade, then headed deep into hoveltown.

He had no clue what the pair was doing in a shed in the slums but imagined it was perhaps an entryway to a secret underground base, like something out of the Jayne Brond novels. Maynor's mind was adaptable, but right now he felt a little overwhelmed. Still, time of uncertainty is time of opportunity.

Additionally, some officials from Hask had shown up later in the day investigating the loss of their own city lord, Tondor Seck. Maynor put forth the argument that collateral injuries commonly occur during duels, and doesn't a victorious city lord inherently have the power to wave such things off? Well, the man had been buried with large hole in his chest which did look rather deliberate, but Maynor kept his thoughts on that to himself. He also sensed that these officials were less interested in penal action and more interested in the opportunities which had just opened up.

In the spirit of cooperation, Maynor had encouraged the officials to appoint a new city lord sensitive to matters concerning both Hask and Breccon. He would gladly advise in the matter, of course.

––o––

You have defeated Slekk Puppel, Pottery Worker, Retired Serial Killer, and Ring Leader of the Alpha Cult, Level 16. 39 experience points awarded. System quest 3/4.

Zhoey had just given him a light chop on the neck as he prepared to close up the store for the night. Now his limp form hung over her shoulder. While still under the concealment effect of shroud she dove into the store and snatched a certain statue. Moments later her figure disappeared into the evening dusk – an overlooked lone green hat resting in the snow the only witness.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

As the corpse sunk into a lake outside of the city, she stood with a man sized flat boulder hoisted high casting a long shadow over the burlesque statue on the ground. It fell with a loud crack and a deep thud. She moved and spun it in circular motions for a few minutes.

You have destroyed a blasphemous statue. You have ground it to dust. System quest 4/4.

Suddenly a familiar spoke spoke out of the surrounding forest.

"Good.", it wheezed, "The ring... is yours."

Zhoey spun around but cold not see the white snake, despite her now keen senses.

"See you later, Zhoeygator....", it chuckled weirdly, its voice fading into nothingness.

––o––

Not far outside of the city of Breccon an old temple monastery crowned a solitary forested hill. The lone monk struggling up the last worn steps, he reached the temple grounds just as the sun set. One rheumatic hand clutched a gnarly walking stick – the other dug into a piece of soft bread he had secured for the toothless one. But she hadn't showed up yesterday or today. Perhaps she had finally died from sickness. He wasn't too far from death himself, despite being only 55.

Upon entering his simple quarters he immediately noticed that something was off. On his table sat three new things: A stack of silver coins; a red potion; and the most delicious looking loaf of bread he had ever laid his still working eye upon.

There was a note underneath.

"Ailment for an old Monk who showed me kindness when no one else would. – Zhoey"

––o––

Satan-72 took a hell gate and strode into her fourth realm. She didn't know if she had an actual errand though, like, a proper administration level errand. Inspection was tomorrow, so she just, well, took in the sights and sounds.

It was nice. Soothing wails came from he chambers of the bankcrypt. The pools of gold were almost hypnotic. She remained a while watching the slow and methodical dipping movements of the six hundred and sixty six thousand chains, each with a flaming wriggling shape on its end. They were like golden candles being born. Beautiful. The sinusoidal periods sometimes synchronised into pattens, then fell back into discordant chaos. Both were equally entrancing.

Eventually in her meandering between sections she came across Lord Plutarch – a small, nine-eyed toad-like demon – standing atop his overseer plateau. Seemingly engrossed, he nodded in appreciation at the ocean of human shapes toiling in the roiling hell swamp below. The main attraction was the gargantuan silver wheels, thirteen hundred of them, each with more than a thousand men trudging inside, driving the wheel round and round ever so slowly.

"The friction is just perfect, isn't it?", he croaked rhetorically without turning to face his mistress, instead pointing outwards, "Ah! There's the new guy! Oh- What a doofus – a slithersquito got him. That's gonna itch for centuries."

Suddenly realising that he was perhaps making unnecessary chit-chat with his boss, he spun and looked up at Satan-72 with an air of formality.

"Anyways, I'm happy to report that we've charged three new system rings today in this section alone. Moving some swamp up here from Fifth was the right idea, mistress."

Satan-72 remained silent for a while as if she hadn't heard him, then she finally spoke.

"Say Plutarch, do you have any ideas for quests?"