"don't make deals with a Devil, unless that Devil is me,
Better the devil you know, than the devil you don't,
'coz NOTHING is ever truly free, ALL Devils have a fee!"
-- 'Ancient' Terran Aussie Saying -- Adam in Darwin
[AN: Ah yes, the ancient Aussie sage of wisdom, Kylie Minogue]
It's difficult to trust a Tiefling at the best of times, and why not? They look exactly like they stepped out of a woodcut from The Temptation of Everyman. It's not their fault. Those who decide to fight the natural assumptions frequently complain that they pay the price for sins that aren't theirs. Even the ones who roll in the everyday assumptions claim that they're only catching up to the sins that made them that way.
It's only natural that the honest and dishonest alike become rogues, vagabonds, shysters and... adventurers. This one is almost a joke Tiefling. One that looked the very image of Asmodeus. Blazing red skin, eyes like fire in the night, a mouth full of shark-like teeth. Even the horns pointed upwards, telling all who saw him that this was, indeed, a Tiefling. One didn't even have to look for the tail and hooves, though they were there all the same. The claws on his fingertips were black and gleaming. Wicked and sharp. Further, he seemed to have a finely-tuned horseshit detector. So sensitive that it would go off at the slightest whiff.
"You want to pay us in gratitude? I want to know how much gratitude is worth to you. I can't speak for the rest of this group, but if you're willing to go out of your way to get gratitude, I'm willing to give up on my share of the ten percent. That's twenty thousand gold you don't have to surrender to a random asshole who'll likely blow it on ale and whores." The sharp grin was humourless. "I understand my gratitude is worth less than an empty sack... but how about the gratitude of a Duke? Would you bargain for that?"
That was the bait... Lord Wythemather had to wonder what the switch was. "What do you want in exchange?"
"A little trinket. Nothing too hard for someone of your resources to acquire. Just an amulet of health."
Lord Wythemather was almost incensed. "That would cost almost as much as the gold value you claim to forsake."
"Almost," agreed the Tiefling. "You could probably hire a different band to get you one if you don't have some artisan seeking your gratitude..." another sharp grin seeking the unwary in the uncharted depths. "And you would have a Duke's gratitude. All those further business deals down the timeline. I'm sure you'll get your worth out of it."
"Who's the Duke? I'm not going to throw away half a fortune on the gratitude of a Duke from Eastern Kraplaquistan."
"Smarter than the average highborn... Well. He's not the Duke yet, but if he gets the amulet, he will be. I speak of the future Duke of Merrimine. He's of age to inherit the crown and the throne... and he would be truly grateful for the amulet."
Merrimine... even the heir to Merrimine was a worthy ally. The old duke sat on his hoard of gemstones like a dragon, and only ever spoke ill of his heirs. If there was any bitter son of a bitch who was overdue for a regime change, it was that man. However, this deal also implied that the future Duke of Merrimine was allied with this snake-tongued devil. Did the apple fall far from the tree? Or was it nestled near the very roots of bitter spite like his father? "How do you know the Viceroy of Merrimine?"
"Oh we go way back. You have to understand that I have my lord's continued well-being in my best interests. Our fates are linked. If he dies... I die." This time, the grin was aiming at Lord Wythemather's throat. "His gratitude is worth more than anything else in the world to me."
That was a glimmer of desperation in the Tiefling's fire-touched eyes. That was what made the decision. "If you survive to get the treasure, the amulet will be waiting for you."
For gratitude, a Tiefling gave up on a rather extensive amount of gold. For gratitude, a Lord acquired a magical charm guaranteed to bolster the owner's constitution. For hope and in desperation, a band of adventurers went through a living hell to gain back what Lord Wythemather had initially lost.
Finally, in honour, the magical charm was exchange for a token of gratitude, replete with an engraved copy of the seal of Merrimine. Authentic in every essential detail.
In suspicion, a spy was sent to follow the Tiefling. Through the streets and byways, into the barely-restored mansion that the adventurers were using as a base of operations. Up and up, into the least-accessible room in the building... where a Tiefling gently loops a chain around the neck...
...of his twin brother, the Viceroy of Merrimine.
"You should shake it off, now," whispered the Tiefling.
"Tomorrow," breathed the Viceroy. "That'll teach me not to steal your desserts."
Things were more convoluted than the Lord Wythemather had originally thought.
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / Tenzen]
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