The city of Seaside is generally concidered a peaceful town, a center of trade for the entire continent. Appearances, however, can be deceiving.
On the docks a woman in a black hat walked around, asking question to the various people there. "Hello, sir," she said to a passer-by. "May I ask you a few questions?"
Linus Fieldman, son of Jupiter/Zeus, but a convert to the Catholic Church and their One God (with caveats), has entered this seemingly peaceful town, seeking, well, a fortune and a way that he can benefit ordinary humans. Seeing the woman in the black hat, he would then ask:
"How may I help you, milady?" Wow, he thought, she's a looker.
"I was just conducting a survey for the newspaper where I work." She said to him, returning a bit of the charm he was using on her. "I'm asking people in the area their opinion on tomorrow's election. Care to tell me your thoughts on the matter, and who you plan on voting for?"
"Ah, I just came into the city; what's the election about?" Linus asked.
"Well," she said, "The first candidate is the current Mayor, who was caught using city funds to hire prostitutes, and refuses to repay the coffers, or even apoligize. The second is a man who had to flee England after being caught molesting a child, and who has been seen talking to several children in the city's factory district."
"You let people like that run for public office?!" Linus said with incredulity.
"Oh, no." she said. "It's for the sacrifice."
"Of course," a little bit of sarcasm entered Linus' voice. "Which God or Demon is it? Someone I know?" And with that, Linus betrayed the not-so-secret fact that he was a Demigod.
"Lord Abernathy." she said matter-of-fact. "He came to Seaside 107 years ago after he was exiled from Lucifer's hell for, well..." she looked around nervously. "Being too weak." she finished the sentence. "Since then he's demanded a sacrifice every winter solstice, which is tomorrow night, so that he can consume their soul at midnight. The people refused the first year, but he just took twelve people on his own instead."
"Ah," said Linus. Well, I know what's the first order of business. "Sorry to inquire further, milady, but how strong is Abernathy on this world? Also, does he have any enemies?"
"Just a point of curiosity; I'm just a tourist, after all," blantant lies.
"Um..." she said, weary of answering, "That's a bit of a dangerous question. I think we need to go somewhere where we won't be overheard. Would you like a drink?"
"Of course; I'd prefer Wine, though, but I can pay if that's too expensive," Linus smiled at Sarah, waiting for her to take the lead.
She lead him to a tavern a few hundred yards away. They entered, ordered two drinks, then sat down at one of the few empty tables in the noisy establishment. You notice that there is a Bronze crucifix hanging on the wall behind the bar.
"So," she said after they had been served, "You wanted to know if Abernathy had any enemies. In a way, though, the entire city is his enemy. The city government has created a special Victim's Fund to help those he wrongs, wheather by theft, kidnapping..." she took a sip of her whiskey, "murder, rape. Whatever."
"As for those that could actually stand against him, he's simply too powerful for us." She lowered her voice and moved closer to Linus. "Well, there are two."
A nod, and a quick prayer directed at the crucifix.
"Who are those two?" Linus said.
"Thor was spotted in a city one hundred miles from here. That has the obvious problem of being extremely expensive. The last time he took a job as a mercenary, joining England against the French to ensure that their champion, Ares, didn't interfere in the battle. They paid him one million pounds. There is no way that we could raise that."
She swallowed the last of her drink. "The only other possibility is Captain Shumacher, his son."
"You've never had a scion of Jupiter and Champion of the Catholic Church - with Caveats - on your side before," Linus made a slight boast, "but tell me about Captain Shumacher."
As the two continued their discussion, the tavern's door swung open, revealing a dark figure, draped in a long, black, hooded oilskin coat. With a notable limp, and series of grunts, the figure shambled over to a corner table, and planted himself firmly on a stool. Fixing a cautious eye on the newcomers, he awaited the arrival of a tavern wench, to fetch him drinks.
After firmly planting a long, bone-carved pipe into his mouth, the figure drew out a match, and struck it alight. Breathing the blaze into his pipe, and puffing heartily, he let down his hood.
Linus sniffed at the air, detecting the smell of cold, almost rotten flesh and dark magic somewhere. Looking at the newcomer, he said, with some worry:
"I think we have a watcher." He then went over to Bjornson (not that he knew his name) and said mildly:
"Anything the matter?"
"Good question", Bjornson grunted back. "A clean, wealthy, Italian kid walks into a rundown tavern near the docks of Seaside, with a stupid smirk on his face... and a reporter. Why don't you tell me, if anything is the matter?"
With this, the bundled, exhausted man took in a deep breath, before emitting a thick cloud of tobacco smoke toward this new inquisitor.
"Would you mind?!" Linus was indigant now, waving away the smoke. "I may be immortal, but tobacco still smells bad!" Recovering his courtesty, the Demigod would then say:
"Look, want to commit treason with me and Sarah - the reporter's name? I'm willing to pay all the expenses."
Forseti gave a hearty, and entirely forced, chuckle. "One moment", he proclaimed, with a wave over Linus's shoulder.
Just then, an uncommonly voluptuous wench approached the table with a large flagon. "I assumed you'd want the stout. Same as always", she giggled.
"Darlin', if you were any sweeter, you'd make my teeth hurt. Now off with you", Forseti teased, grasping the flagon in one hand, and placing it thunderously on the table.
"Alright kid, you've got my interest, and that's no easy task. What the hell are you talking about?", the wretched sailor inquired, removing his pipe in order to indulge in a mighty swig of beer. Wiping his mouth, and repositioning the pipe, his stern gaze returned to the uninvited guest.
"Well, we're trying to overthrow the local Demon Lord, Abernathy is the name. We have two options; one is to hire Thor for a Million Pounds; I only have a few thousand, though, and the other is to rely on Abernathy's son, Captain Shumancher, who is an unknown factor," Linus said.
"I hate being locked to one course, and I'd much rather select the 'get one million pounds' option because it allows for preying on the strong and powerful, but we're selecting the second thing."
"Unless of course, you know the location of the Spanish Treasure Fleet -"
"Speak of the Devil." Sarah, the reporter, said, as a gentleman in a silk suit entered and sat down, two muscle-bound Orcs sitting down with him. A waitress ran over to him, setting down a crystal goblet and a bottle of expensive wine. She then brought a pitcher of ale and two mugs for his friends.
Forseti stared at the Kid, with a look of complete incredulity. Maintaining that stare, he raised the mug to his mouth again, and took another swig.
"Tell you what, kid", Forseti bustled, attempting to finish his beer as quickly as possible. "I think the winds are shifting, as they haven't done in a long time. Now I've got to get out of here,", he paused to nod in the direction of the gentlemen who'd just entered, "but come find me tomorrow, after I've had some time to meditate on this. My house is at the end of McPherson Lane, down past the shipping docks at the edge of town."
With that, he gulped down the last of his beer, hoisted himself up, and tossed a couple coins on the table. "Tell Belany I'll be back for her another night", he said with a wink toward the waitress. Forseti then quickly strode his way through the crowd, and out of the tavern's front door, thankfully unnoticed by mister Abernathy.
Linus nodded, and thought; I'm 100 chronologically; I'm older than you, before going back to Sarah and saying:
"I think we'd better go."
"Sure," she said, "let me introduce you to my friend." She got up, leaving the money for their drinks on the table and they left for Captain Shumacher's.
On the docks a woman in a black hat walked around, asking question to the various people there. "Hello, sir," she said to a passer-by. "May I ask you a few questions?"
Linus Fieldman, son of Jupiter/Zeus, but a convert to the Catholic Church and their One God (with caveats), has entered this seemingly peaceful town, seeking, well, a fortune and a way that he can benefit ordinary humans. Seeing the woman in the black hat, he would then ask:
"How may I help you, milady?" Wow, he thought, she's a looker.
"I was just conducting a survey for the newspaper where I work." She said to him, returning a bit of the charm he was using on her. "I'm asking people in the area their opinion on tomorrow's election. Care to tell me your thoughts on the matter, and who you plan on voting for?"
"Ah, I just came into the city; what's the election about?" Linus asked.
"Well," she said, "The first candidate is the current Mayor, who was caught using city funds to hire prostitutes, and refuses to repay the coffers, or even apoligize. The second is a man who had to flee England after being caught molesting a child, and who has been seen talking to several children in the city's factory district."
"You let people like that run for public office?!" Linus said with incredulity.
"Oh, no." she said. "It's for the sacrifice."
"Of course," a little bit of sarcasm entered Linus' voice. "Which God or Demon is it? Someone I know?" And with that, Linus betrayed the not-so-secret fact that he was a Demigod.
"Lord Abernathy." she said matter-of-fact. "He came to Seaside 107 years ago after he was exiled from Lucifer's hell for, well..." she looked around nervously. "Being too weak." she finished the sentence. "Since then he's demanded a sacrifice every winter solstice, which is tomorrow night, so that he can consume their soul at midnight. The people refused the first year, but he just took twelve people on his own instead."
"Ah," said Linus. Well, I know what's the first order of business. "Sorry to inquire further, milady, but how strong is Abernathy on this world? Also, does he have any enemies?"
"Just a point of curiosity; I'm just a tourist, after all," blantant lies.
"Um..." she said, weary of answering, "That's a bit of a dangerous question. I think we need to go somewhere where we won't be overheard. Would you like a drink?"
"Of course; I'd prefer Wine, though, but I can pay if that's too expensive," Linus smiled at Sarah, waiting for her to take the lead.
She lead him to a tavern a few hundred yards away. They entered, ordered two drinks, then sat down at one of the few empty tables in the noisy establishment. You notice that there is a Bronze crucifix hanging on the wall behind the bar.
"So," she said after they had been served, "You wanted to know if Abernathy had any enemies. In a way, though, the entire city is his enemy. The city government has created a special Victim's Fund to help those he wrongs, wheather by theft, kidnapping..." she took a sip of her whiskey, "murder, rape. Whatever."
"As for those that could actually stand against him, he's simply too powerful for us." She lowered her voice and moved closer to Linus. "Well, there are two."
A nod, and a quick prayer directed at the crucifix.
"Who are those two?" Linus said.
"Thor was spotted in a city one hundred miles from here. That has the obvious problem of being extremely expensive. The last time he took a job as a mercenary, joining England against the French to ensure that their champion, Ares, didn't interfere in the battle. They paid him one million pounds. There is no way that we could raise that."
She swallowed the last of her drink. "The only other possibility is Captain Shumacher, his son."
"You've never had a scion of Jupiter and Champion of the Catholic Church - with Caveats - on your side before," Linus made a slight boast, "but tell me about Captain Shumacher."
As the two continued their discussion, the tavern's door swung open, revealing a dark figure, draped in a long, black, hooded oilskin coat. With a notable limp, and series of grunts, the figure shambled over to a corner table, and planted himself firmly on a stool. Fixing a cautious eye on the newcomers, he awaited the arrival of a tavern wench, to fetch him drinks.
After firmly planting a long, bone-carved pipe into his mouth, the figure drew out a match, and struck it alight. Breathing the blaze into his pipe, and puffing heartily, he let down his hood.
Linus sniffed at the air, detecting the smell of cold, almost rotten flesh and dark magic somewhere. Looking at the newcomer, he said, with some worry:
"I think we have a watcher." He then went over to Bjornson (not that he knew his name) and said mildly:
"Anything the matter?"
"Good question", Bjornson grunted back. "A clean, wealthy, Italian kid walks into a rundown tavern near the docks of Seaside, with a stupid smirk on his face... and a reporter. Why don't you tell me, if anything is the matter?"
With this, the bundled, exhausted man took in a deep breath, before emitting a thick cloud of tobacco smoke toward this new inquisitor.
"Would you mind?!" Linus was indigant now, waving away the smoke. "I may be immortal, but tobacco still smells bad!" Recovering his courtesty, the Demigod would then say:
"Look, want to commit treason with me and Sarah - the reporter's name? I'm willing to pay all the expenses."
Forseti gave a hearty, and entirely forced, chuckle. "One moment", he proclaimed, with a wave over Linus's shoulder.
Just then, an uncommonly voluptuous wench approached the table with a large flagon. "I assumed you'd want the stout. Same as always", she giggled.
"Darlin', if you were any sweeter, you'd make my teeth hurt. Now off with you", Forseti teased, grasping the flagon in one hand, and placing it thunderously on the table.
"Alright kid, you've got my interest, and that's no easy task. What the hell are you talking about?", the wretched sailor inquired, removing his pipe in order to indulge in a mighty swig of beer. Wiping his mouth, and repositioning the pipe, his stern gaze returned to the uninvited guest.
"Well, we're trying to overthrow the local Demon Lord, Abernathy is the name. We have two options; one is to hire Thor for a Million Pounds; I only have a few thousand, though, and the other is to rely on Abernathy's son, Captain Shumancher, who is an unknown factor," Linus said.
"I hate being locked to one course, and I'd much rather select the 'get one million pounds' option because it allows for preying on the strong and powerful, but we're selecting the second thing."
"Unless of course, you know the location of the Spanish Treasure Fleet -"
"Speak of the Devil." Sarah, the reporter, said, as a gentleman in a silk suit entered and sat down, two muscle-bound Orcs sitting down with him. A waitress ran over to him, setting down a crystal goblet and a bottle of expensive wine. She then brought a pitcher of ale and two mugs for his friends.
Forseti stared at the Kid, with a look of complete incredulity. Maintaining that stare, he raised the mug to his mouth again, and took another swig.
"Tell you what, kid", Forseti bustled, attempting to finish his beer as quickly as possible. "I think the winds are shifting, as they haven't done in a long time. Now I've got to get out of here,", he paused to nod in the direction of the gentlemen who'd just entered, "but come find me tomorrow, after I've had some time to meditate on this. My house is at the end of McPherson Lane, down past the shipping docks at the edge of town."
With that, he gulped down the last of his beer, hoisted himself up, and tossed a couple coins on the table. "Tell Belany I'll be back for her another night", he said with a wink toward the waitress. Forseti then quickly strode his way through the crowd, and out of the tavern's front door, thankfully unnoticed by mister Abernathy.
Linus nodded, and thought; I'm 100 chronologically; I'm older than you, before going back to Sarah and saying:
"I think we'd better go."
"Sure," she said, "let me introduce you to my friend." She got up, leaving the money for their drinks on the table and they left for Captain Shumacher's.