Skye looked around nervously. “I'm sorry, but is there some kind of problem?”
“Not if you boys leave right now,” Francis said, summoning Relativity, “I saw what your kind did to Austin and I won't have it happen to Brexis. So take your tofu burgers and get the fuck out.”
Jack was obviously confused, but he was already moving to back his boss’ play. “I think you should do as he says, before things get nasty.”
Indigo grunted. “And if we don't want to go?”
He froze as something sharp poked at the base of his skull. The Paladin turned around to see a particularly vicious unicorn staring him down. The pointy headed murder pony’s pink eyes held no sympathy.
Chuck let out a laugh as Indigo started reaching for his sword. “Oh, please give me a reason to turn you into a kebab. I've been stuck doing paperwork all month and I would love an excuse to kill something.”
Skye went for his weapon, but it was gone. Mac cackled from its perch on the roof. “Missing something?” the demonic cat taunted as it rubbed its chin on the stolen mace, “Well, it's mine now.”
“Just quit while you're behind,” Francis said as he leaned back in his chair, “We like Brexis the way it is. So if you could kindly fuck off, that would be much appreciated.”
The smaller Paladin stood up. “This isn't over. We'll be back.”
“Yeah,” said Indigo as he joined his friend, “You haven't seen the last of us.”
Francis watched them retrieve their horses and leave. Once they were gone Jack cocked an eyebrow at him. “What was that all about?”
The Marine shook his head. “Let's just say that we dodged a bullet and leave it at that.”
“The Holy Order of the Avocado was founded by Paladins that were kicked out of the other orders,” System explained, “They're an expansionist group that is slowly making their way across the continent and taking over towns as they go. The gods don't interfere because they're not religious, but they're definitely zealots. I'm honestly surprised that you recognized them, Francis.”
“Yes, that is exactly why I tossed them out,” the Marine said, “I am very up to date on current events.”
Jack cocked his head to the side at the obvious lie but decided not to push. “So, what do we do now? About System's issue, I mean.”
There was a tinkling of broken glass as Mac pushed the stolen mace off the roof into a table. “I believe I may have a solution,” the demon said.
***
Indigo and Skye weren't happy about being kicked out of Brexis. Their information on Francis said that he was a young god, naive in the ways of Vahnis. Yet, what they had found was a decisive leader who hadn't hesitated to eject them from the city.
“Do you think he knows what we're up to?” Skye asked as they traveled down the road, “I thought we would be able to blend in with the other Paladins.”
Indigo shook his head. “Don't talk about it here. The trees in the Dark Forest have eyes, and ears.”
Skye looked at a gnarled oak by the side of the road. “They probably have teeth too. Just look at that thing!”
Off in the distance they could hear the faint twang of an instrument being tuned. “We should pick up the pace,” Indigo said, “I think I hear banjos.”
***
Mac grinned as it watched everyone argue. One of the best (and worst) things about being a demon was that nobody trusted you. (The phenomenon was called “Quantum Betrayal”. Until you saw the knife in your back, it was impossible to tell if you were being screwed. Sometimes Mac didn't even know.)
The demonic feline stretched out and yawned, exhaling a lick of flame that threatened to light the table on fire. “Come on, you know I'm right.”
Jack let out a low growl. “You'll understand if I'm not overly eager to trust a demon.”
“Oh, don't be like that!” Mac rotated in the air, batting at an imaginary ball of string as it talked. “I would never lead you astray.”
System glared at the demon. “I hate to say it, but I think Mac is right. That is a possible solution. However, it could go horribly wrong.”
He considered his options. Even if Mac was screwing with him, System could still ask Entity to fix things if push came to shove. “I think we should try it.”
“Alright,” Francis said, “Here goes nothing.”
***
The clerk looked at Francis with an expression of disbelief. “You want to modify a quest?”
“Yep. I understand that sometimes you folks need to make changes. So it's possible.”
“But only in an emergency,” the clerk said, “We can't just go around making changes because some god tells us to.”
Francis leaned across the counter. “Do you know what a Cataclysmic Age is?”
“Yes?”
“Well, unless you want to be responsible for the next one I'd suggest you fix this for me.”
The clerk shook his head. “No, there's no way I can change an active quest, much less a high ranking one!”
“What if the adventurer assigned to it gave you permission?”
“That's not the problem,” explained the clerk, “There is a system of checks and balances. We can't change high level quests because otherwise someone could game the rankings.”
“Bullshit. Who has the authority to make those kinds of changes?” Francis asked.
“Only the guild leader can, and she's in the capital. I'm sorry, but I can't help you.” The clerk gave a helpless shrug. “It's above my pay grade.”
Mac appeared in a puff of brimstone. The demonic cat grinned at the frightened clerk. “Francis, I know that our deal prevents me from harming or threatening people. But I really want to.”
The Marine took a second to think. “I take it you know something that I don't.”
“Oh, so many things!” Mac purred, “I know just what to say to make this paper pusher do exactly what you want.”
Letting Mac of its leash was a last resort, an act of desperation reserved for the most dire of situations. Francis decided to try something else first. “I'll bet you a bottle of fae whiskey that if you give me a good clue I'll figure it out on my own.”
“Francis!” tisked the demon, “Don't you know better than to make deals with my kind?”
“Apparently not, but where's the fun in playing it safe?”
Mac considered the wording of the bet, looking for any hidden traps. “Fine. I accept. But I won't make it easy. The quest is the answer to the question.”
Francis reached into his inventory and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. He handed the booze over to Mac. It was safer to accept defeat and pay up, rather than risk violating the rules of the bet.
“Interesting,” the Marine said as he tried to puzzle out the meaning behind Mac’s words, “Very interesting.”