“Good morning!” exclaimed the guild
master sarcastically, slapping the disheveled, narcoleptic idiot in front of
him with his name plate that said “Ferrum, Imperium Cleptarum Guild Master.”
“Whuuu,” replied said idiot,
straightening and using his sleeve to wipe drool from the corner of his mouth.
“Don’t worry, I won’t fall asleep during a mission! I promise! It only happens
when I’m stressed.”
“Well, this is a stressful
job,” retorted Ferrum. He closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, and
sighed. “And you know what happened to the last narcoleptic rogue I
hired? He fell asleep in the middle of trying to steal a rare item and got
caught. I had to send someone to the prison to take him out before he could
talk.”
“But . . .”
“But nothing!” Ferrum barked as he
pounded his fist on the black, marble desk. He abruptly stood up and leaned
forward. “You don’t pass Go, you don’t collect 200 gold pieces,
you don’t get the job! Steve will show you out.” He contemptuously
flicked a ruby-studded lever next to his leg. A five-foot square section of the
floor fell away directly below the cowering applicant.
“Ahhhhhhhhh!” the applicant
screamed, before falling asleep once again as he plummeted into the enclosure
where Steve, the trained gelatinous cube, was waiting for his next meal.
Ferrum picked up a smooth,
rectangular stone covered in runes and a pair of whimsical googly eyes. After
tapping a short sequence of runes, he waited as the stone produced a ringing
sound. The stone rang for several seconds before a slightly irritated, baritone
voice responded, “Ted speaking.”
“Ted, would you please head to the
cube enclosure and collect any valuables that nincompoop might have had on
him?”
“Yup.” (Ted the Ooze Whisperer was
a man of few words, at least with people.)
Ferrum set the stone back on his
desk, leaned back in his chair and put up his feet. Suddenly, the stone began
vibrating and an enthusiastic, automated voice exclaimed, “You have a call from
Mayor Bill!”
Sighing and resignedly picking up
the cell stone, he pressed the “answer” rune and spoke. “Hello, this is Ferrum.
Have you solved the haunted house problem yet, Bill?”
“No! Everything has gone horribly!”
shouted Bill angrily.
“What has gone wrong now, Bill?”
the guild master sighed.
“A group of hooligans who call
themselves adventurers violently barged into my office and demanded the quest.”
he huffed. “Before they left, one of them smashed my desk, toppling oil and a
candle and burning down my office! Oh, and I suspect one of them pocketed my
prized dog figurine.” Imperiously, he added “You must send me a healer and
repair crew posthaste!”
“Need I remind you that I am the
boss here and you will speak to me as such,” warned Ferrum in a calm, dangerous
tone. “Now, describe these adventurers.”
The mayor sheepishly cleared his
throat, then recounted every detail he could remember.
“And where are they now?” Ferrum
inquired.
“They set out for the house a short
while ago, and a few minutes ago, a small group of townspeople came to my house
with reports of flashes of light and loud booms coming from inside.”
“Good. Now, use your portal pendant
to come to HQ and visit the medical wing at once.”
“Thank you, sir. I’ll do that.”
responded Bill stiffly before ending the call.
I should inform Blex of this, Ferrum thought to himself as he
stood up and placed the cellstone back on his desk. Opening a desk drawer, he
withdrew a sheet of parchment onto which he wrote a long phrase in a strange,
alien language. Turning to the bookcase behind his desk, he removed a book
titled “The Battle of Dustyville,” revealing a narrow slot in the wall into which
he then slid the parchment. A nearby section of wall soundlessly slid open,
revealing what seemed to be a pitch-black void beyond. Ferrum boldly stepped
into the darkness, knowing that in reality, it was a hallway shrouded in
magical darkness that only magical sight could penetrate. Striding confidently
into the hallway, so dark that he could not see his hand in front of his face,
Ferrum heard a click and felt the floor lower slightly below his foot as he
stepped on a pressure plate which caused the wall to close up seamlessly behind
him. But he was not the least bit afraid, for he knew this would happen.
Carefully counting his steps, the guild master avoided the myriad pressure
plates distributed throughout the hallway, that if stepped on, would trigger a barrage
of poison arrows to issue from the walls. After walking for a few minutes,
Ferrum emerged into a stone room, dimly lit by torches burning with green
flames. The floor was piled high with mountains of gold coins and trinkets. In
the center of the room lay an ornate, gold sarcophagus encrusted with precious
gems. But these things, notwithstanding the sarcophagus, were mere diversions
forged from pyrite.
Lazily picking a couple of coins up
off the floor, Ferrum waited. After a few seconds, he heard the measured, hollow
scraping of the sarcophagus lid, a sound many adventurers know all too well. Raising
his rune-carved kopesh into the air, mummy lord Malik Hatayn Alghurfatayn planted
the blade into the rim of the sarcophagus and heaved himself up onto his
rotting, bandaged feet. He boomed mightily, “WHOOOO DARES DISTURB-- . . . Oh,
hey Ferrum.”
“How’s
it goin’, Malik?” greeted Ferrum cheerily.
“Pretty good. Mittens just beat me
at another game of senet.” he sighed.
“Cats do be like that,” laughed
Ferrum. “Are you sure the priests removed his brain when they mummified him?”
Shrugging, Malik descended back
into his sarcophagus. As he pulled the lid back into place, Ferrum could just
make out a muffled request: “Mittens, let me have a look under those bandages.”
Ferrum chuckled and shook his head,
then casually slipped one of the pyrite coins into his pocket and flipped the
other one into the green flame of a nearby torch. A stream of verdant embers
reached out of the torchlight and engulfed him where he stood.
He was instantly transported to a
small, black, marble room with a single green torch burning on one wall and a
solid gold door towering in front of him. To the right of the door stood an
ornate suit of platemail armor gripping an iron sword in its gleaming
gauntlets. From the armor emitted a faint buzzing sound. After a moment, the
helmet swiveled in Ferrum’s direction and nodded once in recognition. The suit
then raised an arm and lightly rapped on the door.
“Enter!” an imperious voice
commanded from the other side as the door soundlessly swung open to reveal a
larger black, marble room. In its center sat a ring-shaped counter strewn with
maps, books, and contracts. Four chairs were pulled up to the counter, three of
them unoccupied. In the remaining chair sat Mabel, the guild’s chief enforcer.
A squat woman of advanced age with a friendly face and neat, white curls in her
hair, Mabel was dressed in her signature pastel, blue pantsuit with
pressed-lace collar and matching house slippers. She pushed a plate of cookies
across the counter with one hand as she sipped coffee from her mug made from a
human skull and etched with the phrase “#1 Grandma”.
“Don’t’ mind if I do!” Blex, the
true guild master, exclaimed eagerly as he fixed his large, golden, central eye
with the curious keyhole-shaped pupil on the mound of confections before him. A
moment later, one smooth, opalescent, red eye stalk reached out and fired a
levitating ray, which carried one of Mabel’s famous, gooey, chocolate chip cookies directly to his wide, terrifying mouth. He lazily reclined in his purple,
lambskin beanbag chair and savored every bite.
Another eye stalk lazily swiveled
in his lieutenant’s direction. “Ferrum, what brings you here?” A broad, welcoming
grin spread across his face, exposing two rows of massive, pointed teeth. They
were currently flecked with smears of chocolate and cookie crumbs, a fact that
Ferrum was absolutely not going to mention.
“Bill just contacted me about the
haunted house situation.”
“Ah! Has that fool finally sorted
things out?” Blex absentmindedly adjusted the tilt of his black fedora with one
of his ten eye stalks. The exquisite fedora had a red hat band fastened on one
side by a small, mithril disk embossed and painted with the Imperium Cleptarum
emblem: a crimson book with a golden dagger lying diagonally across it.
Ferrum gave an affectionate nod to
Mabel, pulled out one of the chairs by the counter, sat down, and with a deep
sigh, recounted the events of his conversation with Bill.
“Remind me again why I should not
have Bill executed and replaced with someone more competent?” seethed Blex. His
central eye glinted dangerously.
Mabel took one cookie off the pile
and shot the plate down the counter toward Ferrum.
“It can be quite challenging to
replace a mayor, Sir. Especially one with his connections,” Ferrum pointed out.
“Once I have assumed my rightful
position as king, I will have that pathetic town taken over by force and
appoint my own mayor, no questions asked!” boomed Blex, the jeweled
rings adorning his eye stalks glinting like a crown in the light of the huge,
crystal chandelier overhead. “But until then, he’ll have to stay,” the guild
master affirmed, lowering his voice.
“About those adventurers –” Ferrum
started.
“I’ll keep an eye or two on them
from my study,” quipped Blex as he levitated another cookie toward his mouth.
“Very well. I’ll be in my office if
you need me.” Ferrum stood up, grabbed a cookie off the plate, and took one
bite as he ambled toward the door. “Mmm, mmm, mmm!” he gushed. “Mabel, you have
truly outdone yourself!” Then, with a gleam in his eye, asked, “How about
sharing that recipe?”
Mabel slowly scooted her chair away
from the counter, sauntered up to Ferrum, and with a grandmotherly smile and
gentle pat on his cheek, warned, “I’d tell you, dear, but you’re too young to
die.”
Ferrum chuckled and turned to see
Blex drifting up from his comfy beanbag chair and floating toward his study.
One eyestalk reached back to summon his jewel-encrusted, golden mug of infinite
tea to follow him.
As Ferrum crossed through the
threshold into the foyer, a voice cheerfully announced in his ear, “Hi,
Ferrum!” Leaping back in surprise, he registered a grinning skeleton leaning
against the wall. It was wearing a camo suit, night vision goggles, and a
camo-patterned t-shirt with the words “Hide and Seek Champion” embroidered on
it. It had seemingly materialized from thin air.
Ferrum shook his head. “Smitty, one
of these days . . .”
Smitty burst out laughing. This
never got old. When he finally regained his composure, the skeleton remarked,
“If you need any of those pesky adventurers taken out, you know where to find
me!”
“No. No I do not. Nobody
does.” Ferrum retorted in exasperation.
“I guess you’ll have to figure that
out then,” Smitty teased, pointing a friendly finger-gun in the lieutenant’s
direction.
Muttering under his breath, Ferrum pulled the pyrite coin from his pocket and tossed it through the doorway into the green torch mounted on the foyer wall. He disappeared in a cloud of embers.
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