A completely unfazed Morlekai dipped his head Eric’s way as Drake tossed him a dark ale caught without even shifting his gaze. The absurdly graceful man with the aura of a tiger in repose, a certain seductive savagery kept forever in check, truly did look like the lead his mother had sunk her claws into, just three films ago.

No, he looked even better, Eric was forced to concede, his half-smile giving him an air of bemusement laced over deadly menace that most actors had no hope of emulating.

“So, you ever thought of getting into the movie business?”

Morlekai blinked, looking momentarily nonplussed by the words.

Drake chuckled. “He’s right, boss. You would have been perfect for that Silverblade production. It might have actually been a blockbuster, if the lead had been worth shit.”

Eric furrowed his brow. “Randal Richards wasn’t that bad a lead. And he didn’t try to screw his too young co-star, like so many other assholes were aiming to do.”

“Another movie buff, I knew it!” Drake said. “The gossip posts were the best, weren't they? Felt like you actually knew the stars.”

Eric shrugged. “Most of that shit was exaggerated trash. They focused on the glitz and the partying and all the fuckups, but never the hours of boring rehearsal, or parents screaming at you not to embarrass them, or the bouts of anxiety that left you so sick you couldn't even eat, or feeling so trapped and alone that you just wanted to fucking escape, even if it was off a goddamned ledge. Then you'd feel so damned guilty, because of course, with all that fame and supposed money, you were living the dream, and had no right to complain. So yeah, you better believe drugs are, or were, a big problem for a lot of folk, though now I guess we all got far fucking bigger problems to deal with.”

Eric winced under their continued stares, finally putting the break on his runaway mouth, doing his best not to be phased by the intense look Morlekai was now giving him, Drake whistling and flashing his thousand megawatt smile.

“Damn, kid. Almost sounds like you were there. Did you work as a stage hand or a roadie? I used to think of doing that sometimes, in between heists. Pay might be shit, But I think I'd love it. Best of all, I’d never have to worry about ending up in the… well, none of that matters now, I guess,” Drake cleared his throat under Morlekai’s increasingly hard stare, before the man turned his attention to Eric once more.

“Louie would have been out of the picture if everyone had stayed frozen like that, and Alice would have been the perfect mark for a Romeo making his play after the death of her lover. So why the fuck did you give CPR to a man who clearly thought so little of you, with enough arcane power still in him to risk shocking yourself?”

Eric glared at Morlekai for even asking the question. “Seriously? I give you the vibes of a calculating mastermind looking for how best to play the guy’s imminent death? A man was down and needed help, and I was there, with less to worry about than most. Who the fuck cares if he was being a pissy prick? His life was on the line, so why the hell not step in?”

Drake chuckled softly in the sudden silence. “Damn, boss, looks like we got ourselves a genuine boy scout, here.”

Morlekai’s smile didn’t quite reach his cold grey eyes, but his voice had definitely mellowed. “To answer your earlier questions: No, we’re not hanging you out to dry, or setting you up to play the bait, take the fall, or take you out, once the job is done. That’s not how I do business. Not in this world, or the one we left behind. As for shares? I was going to offer a trial run, Half share upon completion, full share on any future heist we do together, if you keep your nose clean through the whole operation."

He held Eric's gaze for long seconds. “But as it stands, I think you’ve proven yourself worth an equal share, this time around.” He chuckled softly. “Besides. If everything goes according to plan, we won’t be doing shares at all.”

Eric blinked, feeling a cold shiver of excitement coursing through his soul. “Wait, how big a score are we talking about here?”

Morlekai’s smile widened. “I take it you’re in?”

“Damn right I am.”

“Federal Reserve bank. Sitting on so much gold bullion that it’s as much as you can carry.”

The blood was suddenly roaring in Eric's ears so loud he couldn't hear anything but the excited pounding of his own heart.

He took a deep, shuddering breath, not sure if he was awake or dreaming.

“It’s a lot to take in, kid, isn’t it?” a chuckling drake clapped him on the shoulder. “Fucking fortune in gold. A fucking ton! Right here in the city. Pay dirt, right when the world’s coming to an end!”

Eric stifled his desire to whoop and holler, his inner cynic immediately brought to bare. If things seemed too good to be true…

"But… shit… if that's...No," he said, shaking his head, not even daring to hope. "There's no federal reserve bank in this city! It was moved, wasn't it? My sister and I took the goddamned tour, Mother insisted. I remember that part quite clearly. My mother… I mean, there was a heist movie done about it, just two years ago, and that was the underlying theme of the whole damned production."

His words died off into a suddenly uncomfortable silence.

“Kid?”

“Yeah, Morlekai?”

“Are you fucking stupid?”

Eric flushed, forcing a smile. “Maybe I am. So, what am I missing?”

The mastermind sitting on his throne of a chair smirked. “Think it through, kid. You know all the shit we’ve all been through, this past decade. You think the former government’s really going to share all it’s secrets? Tell everyone where it really keeps its wealth hidden? Hell no. Ignorance is bliss and has always been, is our nation’s motto.”

Eric blinked, staring at Morlekai for long moments as his cynical glare slowly turned to a shit-eating grin. “You’re serious? There’s a gold repository right here, in the city?”

This earned a slow nod. “Best of all, since it’s off all but a few very exclusive books, security isn’t anywhere near as tight as it would otherwise be. Not that it's a cakewalk, hell no. But once we have all the pieces to the puzzle that we need, it's just a matter of connecting the dots, avoiding a few hundred orcs, and claiming a fucking fortune in gold bullion."

Eric gazed at the pair of obvious career criminals for long tense moments… before whooping with delight. “Fucking Awesome! So, what’s our next step?”

“Right on! That’s the fire I want to see!” said Drake, bumping Eric’s fist. "Next step is boss man takes care of a few loose ends while me and Louie get our armor tweaked. Then we're just one step away from primary objective time!"

Eric nodded. “Okay. So loose ends to tie, training, and what the hell’s this one last step?”

"The Mayor and I are in the middle of a rather… delicate negotiation," Morlekai said with a cold smile. "I've been reminding him of how important a role he plays in the wellbeing of this town, and how many hundreds of hardworking, loyal, oathbound mortals my sister brought under his wing are now vital to this town's prosperity. Certainly, his System-reinforced oaths as an administrator, however minuscule his actual territory, supersedes archaic oaths that hold no spiritual weight at all."

Eric gazed at him for long moments, the cogs whirling inside his head, then it all suddenly clicked.

Insight check made!

“Alice. She does more than zap baddies with her wands. She was able to oathbind me and the merchant, when we shook hands together...” He gazed at Morlekai for long moments. “But, shit, I can understand one oathbinding, sure. But fifty? When we know her limit is 5 lightning bolts max per encounter?”

Morlekai quirked an eyebrow. “Figured that out already, have you?”

Eric shrugged. “We had each other’s back, crossbow and wand versus lizards and classless assholes. Of course I want a sense of what my partner can and can’t do. But that’s hardly the point. There were fifty people...”

“Who my sister had quite literally saved from certain death, helping them escape through one of the city’s hidden tunnels, escorting them past potentially lethal terrain. Miles’ worth of underground caverns only partially connected to the world we call home. You don’t think there’s a boon to be had there?”

Eric gazed at Morlekai for long moments before letting loose a low chuckle. "So that's what she got out of it! Fifty souls who owe her their lives, all that experience or potency or karma, channeled into fueling a spell of oathbinding. She saved their lives, gave them a fresh start, and now you have hundreds of loyal workers to leverage the mayor into finally spilling whatever secrets he holds?"

Drake whistled. “Damn, this cat’s pretty sharp, Morlekai.”

Morlekai shrugged. “All the pieces were there, for anyone with the brains to put it together.”

Eric smirked. “I don’t even know if I deserve that much credit,” he admitted, mostly having remembered Alice’s guilty wince when he called her a hero, and now he could understand why. Besides, didn’t Tim imply that she was the one paying him and his cronies to help with the escort? Charity that actually cost Alice money didn’t seem like her thing. But charity that helped her gain a fortune? He could certainly see her going for that kind of double win. Either way, she had played a vital role in rescuing hundreds of people. So why the hell shouldn’t she enjoy the same wealth as all the loan sharks and day traders who made a fortune without doing a lick of good for the world?

“So, we just need to get Mr. Mayor to crack, or should I say… do the right thing, and then it's easy street?"

Morlekai slowly shook his head. “We’re not breaking him. That’s not how we operate. Not here, not now.”

Eric winced, suddenly feeling a bit ashamed. So ready to embrace the Grand Theft route that he had almost treated this like a game. There were real people with their own hopes and dreams on the other side of this equation. No matter how brilliantly the pot before him sparkled, he didn't have to lose his soul to get there.

If even Morlekai, who Eric sensed was the farthest thing from a saint, was reluctant to cross that line in the sand, than who the hell was he to suggest otherwise? Even if he had been half-assed jesting.

“You don't shit in your own back yard," Drake concurred with a nod, before smirking and jerking his chin at the lake-shore gardens. "Not unless you actually lucked out enough to find a couple of greenmages who know how to turn it all into germ-free loam, so your shit's literally smelling like roses. Then it's a different story. But no, buddy. Love your enthusiasm, but we're going for the lovable rogues everyone cheers at the pub, and no one fucks with, this time around. Especially in our own neighborhood. That means you donate and pay it forward. You splash some of that cash, pitching in at the local charities and fundraisers, so even the politicians are nodding your way. Any criminal enterprise worth its salt knows the value of the local blues seeing you as one of the good ones. So, no need for us to rough up the mayor. Right, boss?"

Morlekai nodded. “Correct. Mayor Dibbs and I will finish our little conversation, I will accept the quest he will no doubt offer, we will clear the nearby fissure of low tier abominations, you will all learn to work, fight, and kill together as a team and then, after receiving our delve awards for the dungeon clear, we will head back to town, steeped in the power of the delve, and be all the more ready to claim our ultimate prize, and as the town’s beloved heroes, no less.”

Drake grinned, pulling Eric into an unexpected high five. “That’s what I’m talking about, Eric! My boy Morlekai is always three steps ahead! Mayor Dibbs thinks he’s wearing us down to do his dirty work, when really we’re setting him up for bonus completion awards, because we were planning on clearing that dungeon anyway!”

Eric blinked. “So wait, we get bonus rewards with dungeon clears?”

“Hell yes! Any type of rift or incursion.” Drake enthused, before coughing slightly. “Not that we’ve done any, but that’s the word in Freetown. Right, boss?”

Morlekai rose to his full height, cracked his neck and stretched, flexing like a panther as he proceeded toward the door. “Talk to the smith. Make sure he has your armor ready in three day's time. Bring Louie's as well." He turned to peer thoughtfully at the pair of them, before giving a thoughtful nod.

"And take Eric here with you. See what he needs. If it's within reason… we'll get it as well." He patted the hilt of his saber with a 3 bar hilt much like Eric's own. "It will be nice to see if you actually know how to use the blade at your hip kid." He smirked at a grinning Drake. "The boys enjoy their bardiches, but I find they lack the grace of the true art."

“But now that we both boosted our Strength to a goddamned gold Olympian's 19, we can swing them like no one's business, boss!" Drake enthused, before laughing at Eric's expression, kissing his own bicep. "That's right, kid. Look at these guns! Two points to Strength each level, for the last 3 levels! Sure, I'm fucking famished and eating for two days straight, right after level-up, and now I gotta get my armor refitted again, but damn does it feel sweet to see my bardiche dancing through the air even quicker than I could swing a baseball bat, this time last year! And believe you me, Old Slugger took out any number of..." He cleared his throat, grinning sheepishly at a hard-eyed Morlekai. "Sure, boss. I'll take good care of our boy scout til you get back."

But Eric, thinking fast, thought he saw an opportunity to both make a real difference, and maybe earn some points with Morlekai as well. And a far more calculating part of him couldn’t help but appreciate the merits of negotiating while looking like a saint. It would make it far harder to hate on him later. Or so he hoped. “Actually, Morlekai? I was hoping, well...” he flushed, only then realizing how out of line it might seem for him to be toeing the line when he just got hired by an outfit that does not fuck around. But he’d already dipped his toe in the water, so might as well dive right in. “Um… mind if I come along?” He winced, realizing how stupid that sounded.

Curiously enough, Morlekai just quirked a far-too handsome brow. Damn it, Drake was right, Eric thought. This bastard really should have played Elonia’s other half in Silverblade II. His talent was wasted as a brooding badass kingpin. "Why?"

Just one word. Simple, to the point, cutting through all the bullshit. “I think… maybe? Maybe I might be able to help.”

Morlekai just stared. “Really.”

Eric felt his cheeks redden, not that anyone could tell, through the scars. So he settled for nodding.

Morlekai quirked a smile, leaning against the door. “Alright, I’ll bite. What do you bring to this party?”

Eric took a deep, shuddering breath. “What he needs most.”

“And that would be?”

Eric bit his lip as the man stared him down. “Food.”

Morlekai stared him down for long moments, Eric wincing under the sudden tension, before the man cracked a sudden smile.

“Everything okay, Boss? Kid’s a rookie, don’t forget. I’ll straighten him out, you just say the word...” said a suddenly concerned Drake.

“You have an Extradimensional Storage Space, don’t you.”

Eric blinked, swallowed, then slowly nodded. “So, you’ve heard of them?”

Morlekai nodded. “Extra storage equal to your mass, or so the rumor goes.” He chuckled softly, eyes twinkling. “You’re thinking that would put away an awful lot of gold. Aren’t you, Eric?”

Eric forced himself to nod. “That it would.”

“And you’re coming clean. Before we hit the vault.”

Eric shrugged. “I guess I am.”

Morlekai studied him for long moments, before finally nodding. “Good. If I had any questions about your character, I have absolutely none now. Because you really have no idea, do you?”

Eric blinked. “I’m sorry?”

This earned a soft chuckle. “Well, the good news is that, as precious as gold was in the world we left behind, at near, what, just over $2,000 an ounce with that last unexpected spike?”

“I guess?”

“That’s only a fraction of what gold is worth now.”

Morlekai’s smile grew, clearly delighting in the look of awe on Eric’s face. “That’s right, kid. Even as hyped up as gold was, compared to everyone else living in this brave new reality where it’s considered a pristine element for alchemical and arcane manufacture, we were treating it like primitives who don’t even know how precious the gold nuggets they adorn themselves with truly are.”

Eric whistled. “No shit.”

"None whatsoever, boy scout. It's the equivalent of rare earth metals. Priceless. According to our master, all other things being equal, if you can even make a comparison considering how much the world's gone topsy-turvy, it's worth at least tenfold what it was before the world ended.

Eric swallowed. “So a pound of gold, that before might be worth close to thirty thousand, when the market was spiking...”

“Would now be worth around three hundred thousand,” Morlekai solemnly nodded. “And perhaps a hell of a lot more, anywhere but here, a virgin resource-rich world, ripe for conquest. Elsewhere? God knows how many credits we could get for selling it.”

Eric blinked. “Credits?”

Morlekai nodded. “There’s actually a galactic standard credit system in the cities and towns, unlike the pathetic excuse for credits Stibbs pushes here. Silver also has its place, and you’ll find silver and bronze coins everywhere, copper pennies as well, though not the junk the mint used to put out. But far and away, Gold is the prize alchemists and arcane artificers desire, save for the absurdly powerful elites we're thankfully free of… for now."

He flashed a fierce grin as Eric blinked in awe. “Now for the bad news. As far as our mentor could determine, its very pristine nature makes it impossible to store in any ES device.”

Eric winced. “Shit.”

“That’s right. We’re taking only what we can carry. So build up your Strength while you can. It will literally pay for itself in gold.” Morlekai then toasted their alliance with the drinks Drake handed them both. “If everything goes according to plan, we treat you as an equal member until we all cash out. We will continue to keep each other’s secrets, and we swear to do each other no deliberate harm, save in self-defense. This holds for you, me, Drake, Louise, and my sister. Sound fair?”

Eric nodded, feeling surprisingly relieved, glad to see that honor among thieves really was a thing. Because who the hell else would they ever have at their backs, if not each other?

“More than fair,” Eric said, not knowing whether to feel relieved or alarmed at the tingle flooding his soul when they clasped wrists and shook.

Party ally has attempted Soul Branding.

Soul branding has been resisted!

You have elected NOT to interpret this as a hostile act!

“Good.” Morlekai said with a nod, smiling with satisfaction, no doubt knowing exactly what that tingle met. He turned to meet Drake’s gaze. “He’s one of us, now. No fucking him over, under any circumstances. Let the others know.”

“Oh, I’m sure they know already, boss,” Drake said, wincing and rubbing what looked to be a brilliantly inked tattoo on his chest.

“That’s a pretty sweet raven tattoo,” Eric said, admiring the artwork before Drake re-buttoned his shirt.

“It’s a crow, but yeah. Definitely a winner,” Drake said, flashing Morlekai a weak smile.

“Come on, kid, let’s go,” said Morlekai. And for all that Eric had some definite reservations, he couldn’t help but admit that Morlekai, putting on a tricorn hat much like his own, pulled it off with a level of badassery he’d never be able to pull it off. And the way the tail of his frock coat blew in an unseen breeze was almost as sweet as the pair of crimson ravens, or was it crows? That landed on his shoulders, one instantly turning its head 180 degrees and cawing Eric’s way.

“Yeah, I’m coming, I’m coming!” he muttered, trying to ignore the open-mouthed stares and considering gazes of pretty much every eligible aged refugee going about their business along the main thoroughfare. Which was easy enough to tune out. His mother and sister had gotten those looks from both sexes, since as far back as he could remember.

What surprised Eric, however, was how obstinate the mayor ended up being, even with a pair of badass birds glaring at him with beady blood-red eyes.