Magic Murder Cube Marine

After the flames died down, an alert from System told Francis there was a reward waiting for him at the Adventure Guild. I should probably go collect those, he thought.

Not long after Tiffany expired, the cottage began to decay. Iced vanilla lattes curdled in their glasses and rust ate away at the pink enamel of the oven. The hag herself adopted a much less human form as the layers of magic and makeup rotted away.

The only thing that didn't seem affected was an old acoustic guitar tucked in a corner. The Marine grabbed it on his way out the door after he checked the basement. He didn't know who the guitar originally belonged to, but it didn't deserve to get left behind in the ruined cottage. Besides, guitars were cool.

What he found waiting for him outside on the porch were two dozen dire wolves, and a very plump opossum. Mason continued to run laps around the cottage, smacking into the same tree branch each time.

The black and white opossum was the size of a cat. It rocked back and forth in one of the chairs while it plucked at a tiny banjo with its paws. The sound coming from the instrument was full sized and melodic.

“Well, howdy.” The opossum said in a voice that made Francis think of wood cabins, moonshine, and well loved cast iron cookware. “I'm Evandrel. I represent the Dark Forest. Why don't you pull up a seat and sit with me for a spell?”

Francis did as he was told and sat down. The creature didn't look threatening. But judging by the two dozen dire wolves the opossum had under its control, he figured it was probably pretty powerful.

“My name is Francis, and I am pleased to make your acquaintance. That's a mighty fine instrument you got there.” The Marine felt his voice fall into a more rural accent as the weight of familiarity settled down over him. “Damn, that thing reminds me of home. It makes me think of two dollar beers and barbecue. All I need now is some dip.”

The opossum tossed a leather pouch his way. “Well, grab a pinch and relax. The witch is gone, and the wolves are settled.” It plucked out a tune. “So, I figure it's time we have ourselves a little chat. I get to know you, you get to know me. We see if there is a way towards harmony.”

Francis packed a lip full and picked up his guitar. “Sure, I've been known to strum a chord.” He began to tune the instrument, picking up the creature’s way of rhyming as it spoke. “But I haven't played this stage before.”

“Oh don't worry none, music shared is much more fun.” The opossum grinned. “I've seen you work and fighting ways, but the measure of a man is how he plays.”

What followed was a musical game of tennis. The opossum would pick out a tune on its five string banjo and Francis would play it back on his guitar. The song changed subtly as it danced from instrument to instrument.

Finally, they hit a good place to stop and Francis was rewarded with an alert from System that his Entertain skill had leveled up twice. “Hot damn! You sure can play.”

“Thank you kindly.” The opossum nodded. “I can already tell I like you a lot more than the old neighbors. Zed wasn't much for music.”

“No, I can't imagine he was.” Francis set his guitar aside. “What was it you wanted to talk about?”

“Well, necromancers and druids don't always get along. So I was sent to act as a sort of intermediary. You know, keep things civil.”

The opossum set its instrument aside and the dire wolves booked it for the tree line as the spell holding them ended. “The long and the short of it is, I'm curious what your plans are for Brexis. I'm also curious how you intend to accommodate the displaced people coming to knock on your door.”

“Ah, that is a good question.” Francis leaned back in his chair. He decided to play it straight with the critter and see what it said. “Truth be told, I'm mostly playing it by ear. I’ve got some things working, and good people backing me up. But it’s one of those things where all I can do is eat the elephant one bite at a time. And Brexis is one big fuckin’ elephant.”

“That it is.” The opossum rocked back and forth in its chair. “Well, on the bright side you didn’t profess a desire for world domination. You sound more like the original residents, Clarissa and her lot. They were overwhelmed too. But it turned out pretty alright, until it didn’t.” The creature spit into a flower pot, wilting the plant inside.

“Tell me about them. I honestly don’t know much about the city before Zed took over.” Francis wasn’t sure if he could trust the creature. But information was always good to have. He could fact check it later.

“Well, Clarissa was a necromancer. She wanted to find a place where her people could live in peace and really explore what was possible. Dragon Fall Mountain was land that nobody wanted, so she set up shop there. Eventually that mountain became the city of Brexis, and the rest is history.”

“Was she a portal jumper like me?” Francis asked. “I’ve seen some stuff there that reminds me of home.”

“No, I don’t think she was. Clarissa hit the hard cap at level twenty, just like I did.” The old opossum wrinkled its nose. “Rumor has it that she found a way to make the undead think, do math and stuff like that.”

The Marine had a pretty good idea of what Evandrel was talking about. A long time ago, one of the younger Marines had shown Francis a video of something called Minecraft. In that video it showed a fully functional mechanical computer that someone had built inside the game. He figured that if someone was smart enough, it wouldn't be too much of a stretch for them to do something similar here. Though, the why of it all eluded him.

The familiar forms of Jack and Cassi emerged from the tree line. Francis waved to them from the porch. “I’m glad you boys could make it!”

Mac, the demonic cat, appeared in the Marine’s lap and curled up. “Less talking, more petting.”

Francis shook his head as he gave the cat some ear scritches. “You see what I have to put up with?”

Evandrel laughed when he recognized the demon. “Well, don’t that beat all? Lucipur Meowingstar, the feline fiend, curled up in a god’s lap.”

Mac cracked an eye open. “I never liked that name, don’t use it.”

“Fair enough.” The opossum introduced itself to Jack and Cassi when they arrived and got back to business. “As I was just telling your friend here, I like him a lot more than the old neighbors.”

Cassi threw himself into a chair. “That lich was bad news.”

Jack found a chair of his own and joined in on the Zed bashing. “I never met the guy. But he seemed like the kind of person who wouldn’t see me as a person. So, fuck him.”

“Indeed.” Francis petted his new lap cat. “Look, Evandrel. I’m a live and let live kind of guy. I don’t want to piss off the Dark Forest if I don’t have to. So, maybe instead of asking me what my plans are, tell me what I should avoid doing if I want to stay on your good side.”

“Well, for starters, don’t go logging trees we don’t mark. If we feel a tree needs to be cut down, we’ll mark it for you with yellow paint around the trunk.” The opossum rocked in his chair as he spoke. “Next up, hunting is fine. Killing monsters that threaten the towns and villages is fine. But anything that speaks, that isn’t trying to harm people, leave it be.”

“Ah, I am happy to say that we actually extend full legal rights to uplifts and other intelligent creatures.” Francis looked at the young man, who was still running laps. “I figure if someone like Mason is considered a person, why not a talking horse?”

“Well that’s good to hear.” The Opossum nodded. “You just might find yourself with a few new citizens, once word spreads. That brings me to the former occupants of Olympia. What are you going to do about them? The last thing the Dark Forest wants is a bunch of starving humans hunting everything that moves and starting up bandit camps.”

Cassi raised his hand. “What was that about refugees from Olympia?”

They caught him up to speed on Amanda’s rampage through the city and the horde of displaced people a day or less away. “Well, my suggestion would be to send some of them back to rebuild Olympia. Unless, of course, you want a bunch of bandits to start sending boats down the Silver River.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” Francis admitted. “A lot of them will probably want to go back home anyway.”

“Not once they see what good stuff Brexis has to offer.” Jack countered. “You’ve got plenty of housing, running water, a chance to find their fortunes, and big fuck off walls. I think you will be surprised how many want to stay, once they get used to the skellies.”

“Didn’t you say something about them having undead servants where you come from?” Francis asked.

The hound shifted awkwardly. “I mean, technically we do. Or at least, we did. But they weren’t mindless like the ones here.”

The Marine decided to put a pin in that particular grenade for now. He imagined Jack’s world as being some futuristic sci-fi place with nano-machines and all the other random stuff DARPA was constantly threatening to inject him with. Francis wasn’t sure where undead came into the picture. “So, Evandrel. I was wondering if you might have some ideas about how to help the people who are coming.”

“I may have a few.” The opossum admitted. “Let me talk to my people and I’ll see what they would be willing to do. At the very least I can tell them you aren’t a complete asshole like Zed. I’ll reach out sometime tomorrow. But I need to ask a favor.”

“Oh?” Francis raised an eyebrow. He had been waiting for Evandrel to ask him for something since he first sat down. “What can I do for you?”

The opossum pointed at Mason. “Please, take him with you.”