Magic Murder Cube Marine

Francis and Jack decided to settle down for some breakfast beers while they mulled over the situation. The Marine knew that it wasn't the smartest idea to make fun of a being that stood above the gods. But he couldn't help poking fun at System's misfortune.

“So, how exactly are you planning to proceed, oh great dragon slayer of legend?”

System glared at the Marine. “It's not funny. I can't get back to work until the quest is finished.”

Jack was less amused than his patron deity. The hound could see how System being away from the helm might end in disaster. “Can't you just decline the quest?”

“Unfortunately, no. I can't initiate system commands while I've got an active or failed quest. It's part of the criteria.” System rubbed his temples. He had a potential solution, but he wasn't sure if it was any better than trying to take on a dragon.

Entity could remove the quest, but his meadow was on the other side of the world. He was also impossible to contact via message. Entity had long since decided that if anyone had something critical enough to bother him with, they could damn well come to see him in person. And if they didn't know where he was, then how important could they be?

“What's the worst case scenario if you get locked out?” Jack asked.

“Well, nothing will happen immediately,” System admitted, “I won't be able to invite new champions or guide them through character creation. Some decisions that require my direct attention will end up being decided by the framework instead. Which could end up eventually snowballing into an avalanche that destroys all life on Vahnis.”

Francis focused his complete attention on System. “Say again?”

System shook his head. “Ah, now I have your attention. I'm not just here for show, you know. My job is actually important. Without me gradually correcting and guiding things Vahnis will inevitably enter another Cataclysmic Age, which I can safely say would be something neither of you would want.”

The Marine wasn't sure what a Cataclysmic Age was, but he didn't like the sound of it. He also had a burning question tugging at the back of his mind. “Ok, so what happens if you die before the quest is finished? What if the dragon kills you?”

“Thankfully, not much. I'll respawn after a few days and get to try again,” System said smugly, “Current situation aside, I'm not an idiot. Actually, the framework is pretty robust. If I was locked out for too long it would eventually replace me with a backup.”

Jack's ears perked up. “And how long would that take?”

“About a thousand years, long enough for everything to go to shit but not long enough for the framework itself to be threatened.”

The hound let out a sigh. “You know, I was hoping that there would be an easier solution. But we might have to help System with his little problem.”

The Marine looked at the Adventure Guild then back at System. His gut told him that System was either lying, or withholding information. But the fact that outside forces had acted to create the situation made Francis wonder if there might be something bigger going on behind the scenes.

Bobby Tables had gotten System drunk, then tricked him into accepting a quest. Either it was pure dumb luck, or someone who knew the ins and outs of the framework had put her up to it.

Francis went over his options. He could walk away and let System sort things out on his own. In theory, that would be the simplest solution. If System could re-spawn he would eventually be able to kill the dragon and get back to work.

On the other hand, there was no way of guaranteeing that whoever was screwing with System wouldn't interfere. Francis scratched at his beard as he thought.

One of his Captains used to be big into philosophy and science fiction. They had told Francis that immortality wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Even if your body was indestructible, as time went on your chances of being entombed or permanently stuck got higher and higher.

If someone knew that taking a quest would prevent System from doing his job, it was more than likely that they would have the means and knowledge to prevent him from completing his quest.

Heck, someone could kill the dragon before System did and technically that might count as a failure. Francis would have to ask the AG for sure, but he could see a few ways for things to go wrong.

His train of thought was derailed as a pair of men in full plate armor approached their table. They had the vague good looks and perfect hair that screamed Paladin. “Are you Francis?” asked the shorter one.

“Maybe, who might you be?” The Marine replied as his eyes scanned the nearby rooftops. He was confident that he could take on the pair of Paladins, but it paid to be cautious. The last time someone tried to ambush him they had used a mix of melee and ranged attackers.

“We are Paladins of a great and noble order. Perhaps you have heard of us?” The short man gestured to his shield. It was adorned with a painting of a green oval with a brown circle in the center. Golden rays of light were drawn across the background.

“I can't say that I have.”

“Oh, you must be new.” The short one looked to his companion, who was almost as big as Francis. “We represent the Holy Order of the Avocado. I am Skye, and my partner here is Indigo.”

Francis wasn't particularly impressed or worried. He had run into his share of Paladins since Brexis reopened. “Let me guess, you're worried about all the undead walking around?”

Skye shook his head. “No, of course not. Recycling is important, I think we can all agree on that. Do you mind if we join you? There are some things that we wish to bring to your attention.”

After Francis gave them permission to sit down Skye ordered a round of beers for the table. It was a bit hoppier than what the Marine was used to, but free beer was always welcome. Jack was less gracious.

The hound made a face and pushed his mug away. “No, thanks. I'll stick with the brown ale.”

Skye tried to not look offended. “There's no accounting for taste. But we aren't here to talk about beer.”

Indigo nodded seriously. “There is a problem with one of your temples. A very serious problem.” He leaned in to whisper the next part to Francis. “It has to do with the food.”

The Marine wasn't sure what to make of that. Had someone contaminated the barbecue? “Tell me more.”

The big paladin looked around as if he were afraid to say the words out loud. “There is a distinct lack of vegetarian options.”

Francis frowned, a distant memory tugging at his mind. “We do grilled veggies.”

Skye shook his head. “Yes, but you cook them on the same grill. Some people don't eat meat.”

The Marine felt something click in his head, but he needed to make sure before he acted. “How do you boys feel about surfing?”

The Paladins shared a look of confusion. Skye cocked his head to the side. “We love it, why do you ask?”

Francis gritted his teeth. He should have known it the second he saw the avocado painted on their shields. Life as a deity had made him sloppy, dulled his instincts. As a native Texan, the Marine should have recognized his old enemy.

A love of avocados, IPAs, surfing, and telling other

people what to do could only mean one thing. The Californians had arrived.