The Villain of Dewhurst

We enter the home of the village chief, and I can scarcely believe anyone with an ounce of official power would willingly live in a home like this. Boss's Guild looks like Father's regal castle compared to this... this monstrosity. Broken liquor bottles strewn about, broken boards on both the floors AND the walls. The cherry on top is bunch of illustrated sex mags scattered about the place depicting humans, elves, dwarves, centaurs... name a species and the dude living here was dedicated to jacking off to it apparently.

"Chief?" The Boss calls out as he approaches a shitty, dirty desk strewn with yet more dirty magazines and what I think might have been socks once.

From the other room, a thin and elderly voice responds. It's scratchy and just imagining what it would take to make a man sound like that hurts my throat. "I din' git dem mana cryssals yet, come back later!"

I can't believe this. Looking to Boss to see if this was normal I caught him in the middle of an exasperated sigh. "I'm not one of your customers, Abner. It's me. I'm here on Guild business."

An elderly man emerges from the adjacent room. He stumbles out, almost falling over himself due to being about as shitfaced as a man could possibly be. The village chief looked like a skeleton forgot to tell its body that it was time for it to start decomposing. His eyes are sunken in deeply and his skin stretched tight over his brittle old bones, so old that it looked more like leather parchment than skin should have any right to.

The chief looks at Boss with an intense air of superiority about him, like he was looking at an insect, or... nah. More like an insect's shit. I can't fucking imagine how anyone who looked like him was able to look down on ANYONE, let alone my hot-ass Daddy. Yeah, I said it.

His hatred subsides when he looks towards me, and I swear to the gods the RAEP tattoo guy had a less creepy face than this old fuck does as he looks me up and down. "How much'n are ye wannin' for ���er?" He licks his lips in such a perverse way that my hand shoots out to the hilt of my great blade from sheer self defense instinct alone. I start remembering Boss's instructions on swinging properly, intending to do as much damage to the disgusting old man as possible, but Boss smiles and puts his hand on my shoulder.

"I'm afraid my companion is not for sale, she is mine." The way he puts so much authority into it makes me weak in the knees, and my hand drops casually from the hilt of my sword. I needed to keep quiet, Boss was right. If I say anything I'm not gonna be able to hold back. But calling me his... me, a Princess! So brazenly and publicly like that...!!

I decide to focus on how happy that made me while the Boss does what he needs to do.

"YERS, huh? Whatta waste. Well, whateva." The old man scowls as if another hunter just stole his prize. "Tha fuck ye wannin' then?"

"She's an adventurer, and will be staying with me at the Guild from now on. I came to turn in the proof of her completed quest and receive reimbursement and the handlers fee as well as inform you that the Guild will be running efficiently once more. You can spread word amongst the villagers that they don't need to hold back on submitting requests. We will work to meet the demand." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the folded up paperwork and a small envelope of my slime cores.

The last part of Boss's speech there left me with a poor taste in my mouth. I ain't exactly thrilled at the idea of running around doing shit to help the good people of Dewhurst with their problems. I can see it now...

'Delivery Quest, 50G

Behind the burning green building is five crates of 'medical supplies' for my 'poor, sick, grandmother'. Deliver them to the 'friendly' one eyed dwarf in the back alley behind The Skankiest Siren, my 'grandma's' favorite tavern. Do not open them.

Client- Drug Dealin' Pete'

Or better yet,

'Retrieval Quest, 100G

Five female employees of mine have neglected to turn in their weekly quotas. Do whatever is necessary to collect my money. I promise you they can take any punishment you can dish out. They are loitering around Hooker's Row.

Client- Sir Pimpington Farquehoes the 69th, Lord of Yoremum'

Maybe I'm being cynical here but... after the brisk walk through town I don't have much positivity left.

The old chief chuckles, "I thot ye gave uppa few yers back, kid! Wait'll er'one git a load a dis!" I'm so mad at the way he's speaking to Boss. But I... I can't do anything about it. I close my eyes tightly and remember all of the lessons on manners and etiquette befitting of a lady, trying so hard to poise myself.

"Everyone has ups and downs in their life, chief. I'm just getting now out of my greatest down and with a little work, I believe I'm riding out towards my greatest high."

Boss squeezes my hand out of view from the chief, under the desk. It makes me blush knowing exactly what he's talking about.

The scent of cheap, bilgy booze suffocates the air as the old man glugs down some sloppy piss-looking liquid from one of the many bottles on his desk. "Ups n' downs, huh? Way I figgur is ye owe this town a lot. I'll pay ye back fer the girly's werk, but why should I gotta go an give ye a bonus on toppa it? Hanler's fee my scrote." He spits disgustingly towards Boss.

I can't fucking do this. My eyes twist into uncontrollable rage and I make to leap over the desk and start beating the everloving fuck out of this pathetic, miserable old cunt. Right as I open my mouth to speak, Boss throws his arm out in front of me, telling me to stop before I can even begin.

"You've paid the handler's fee many times before, Abner."

"For' ye gave up like th' piece a shite ye are. Least ye was try'n to make up fer killin yer granpap and sennin' Dewhurst into a downwer' spirl."

SHHHHINK.

I draw my massive great blade and hold it in front of me- tears racing down my face and my eye twitches uncontrollably. How dare he. How... fucking DARE HE?!

"SAM." The Boss's voice booms louder than any voice possibly should.

He looks towards me and takes his glasses off, revealing those glowing, pupil-less eyes of his. Pinkish white and piercing, I know they can see everything. I can't hide anything from them.

"Hold these, my dear." Before I can collect myself, Boss hands me his glasses. He turns to face Abner, the old man expending whatever trace amounts of sweat left in his wrinkled skin at a furious pace.

"But, you'll... your eyes..." No. I don't say anything more. I don't need to question what he tells me, I know he can handle this. I take his enchanted glasses and watch as he leans over the counter to grab the village chief by the collar of his shirt. I can't see Boss's face but I do see the intense fear of Abner as he's lifted across the desk to look face to face with my Boss. My Daddy. My man.

"I'm only ever going to say this once. Do you understand me?"

The old, terrified bastard meekly nods.

"SPEAK."

"YES, YES I UNNERSTAN! PLEASE JUS LEGGO!!"

Boss grips Abner's shirt now with his other hand, the exact opposite of the old man's plea.

"I'm done. You're never going to like me anyway, no one in this town ever will. You want someone to blame for everything going to shit? How about the Chief who spent year after year pouring all of the town funds into advertising to adventurers the kingdom over, hoping that you wouldn't have to invest in local businesses to make sure they would survive on their own if there wasn't a thriving Guild economy to support them? No? Yeah, you're right, it's much easier to blame a ten year old child for not living up to his grandpa's legacy. Isn't it?"

Abner is speechless, as am I. He's not sure if he's supposed to respond.

"ISN'T IT?!" Apparently, he was.

"Y-YES!"

"Good. The thing is, I'm no longer deluding myself. If you want to blame me for the accident, or hate me for having fucked up magic eyes I didn't choose to be born with, sure. Be my guest. I don't have to live up to anyone's legacy. I have a Guild- it used to be my grandpa's- but it's mine. I'm done trying to run it like he would have... never worked, never will. I'm going to do things my way from now on, and you're going to be a good little alcoholic and go and get me my money- ALL of it, as well as a 25% 'I Was a Piece of Shit Human Being Fee' on top of it. 45G. Go."

Boss drops the old man on the desk, and he hurriedly runs to the other room, tripping across porn and scattered liquor bottles. He's crying a storm and all my beating heart can muster is an overwhelming sense of pride along with a single word. 'Good.'

He returns with a swollen pack of gold, clearly heavy with far more than a measly 45 gold pieces.

"Here, please, am sorry, fer ERRYTHIN, I jus', I don... J-JUS TAKE IT!!" Abner pathetically stutters out.

Boss takes the satchel and pockets it. "You're not sorry, don't lie. Regardless, very kind of you for the bonus. Don't forget to tell everyone else in town we're accepting quests again, alright?" His voice is significantly less threatening again, but in a way that made it just as scary.

"Yes, yes anythin' ya say, boy!"

"Before I leave, let me say one final thing. Thank you, Abner, for all the years of cruelty. Without them I never would have worked out that I need to become the villain you so desperately believe me to be for you to show me any sort of respect. Have a lovely day."

Boss turns to me, his eyes throbbing and bleeding profusely. Thick, strained streams of red pooling down past his cheeks and to the edges of his chin. He holds out his hands for his glasses, and... the smile on his face is so genuine, wholesome and sweet. I didn't know it was possible for someone to look so completely full of bliss. "Shall we go, Sam?"