Headed by a Snake

Tycondrius pulled Wolfrider aside. His concerns were reasonable-- even if he was terribly rude about it.

"Mister Levi, would you mind explaining what this is about?"

Wolfrider shrugged, averting his gaze, "I-I-I-I dunno, Boss. There's just... I dunno. I just don't."

Tycon grimaced, "Well, that's hardly helpful."

"I don't trust her, Boss!"

Tycon took a breath through his nostrils, "I heard you the first time."

The concept of trust was a complex one. Trust existed on different levels, depending on the situation, the relationship, and the judging individual. Tycon's favored theory split the concept into a mere three levels.

The first level of trust was enough to share a meal. Tycon would share a meal with Tarquin Wroe, under nigh any circumstances. The man provided excellent company.

The second level of trust was enough to ask a favor of, in particular, the care for a child or loved one. Tycon would not allow Wroe to watch over a smoked roast of beef, unsupervised. It wouldn't be surprising for the roast to grow tentacles and crawl away.

He wouldn't trust Lone with it, either... he would somehow find a way to ruin it, like he did Tycon's cakes and sandwiches.

Nor would he trust Lulu... The constant pheromones she exuded and the bodily fluids she naturally excreted would somehow ruin the dish. She'd probably discard the roast, slather the sauce over her body, and place herself, nude, on the serving table.

He would trust Dragan, that big-boned troublemaker. He'd trust Maximus-- but he was dead. He'd trust Aurala. Stars and stones, he'd even trust Monsieur Reynard. The man would be too terrified of making a mistake to not be trustworthy.

The third level of trust was, quite simply, not enough. The half-elf Margeaux naturally fell under this category.

Tycon didn't see the need for Wolfrider's panic. Tycon didn't trust most people. The boy shouldn't either.

"You don't have to trust her." Tycon assured, "A healthy amount of vigilance is conducive to our survival."

The maid-girl was cursed, Tycon was sure of it. It was reasonable the curse had something to do with the Tower Wizard. The woman was a Bronze-Ranker without an Arcane Class-- her strength made her prime enslavement material.

The half-elf maid had value with her status as a tower slave. If there were traps or odd protective spells within the magic tower, she would be able to warn them.

...And since they weren't being watched by the public, Tycon could utilize her as a sacrifice to ensure the survival of his subordinates. Invictus couldn't lose reputation if no one knew about their misdeeds. The young woman was more useful than she wasn't.

Ignoring Wolfrider's nasal whining, Tycon made his way back to Margeaux.

Lone looked up, "S'everything alright, Boss?"

Lone was comforting the maid-girl as she spoke to him with a tearful face and quivering lips. The two were rather close, with Margeaux holding onto one of Lone's calloused hands with both of her soft, pudgy ones.

Tycon slowly nodded his head... "Yes... I discussed circumstances with Mister Levi."

The half-elf looked up, gasping with surprise. Her full bosom trembled with her movement, "Does that mean you'll help me?"

Tycon's face remained impassive to hide his disgust, "Yes. All of Guild Invictus will assist you on your quest. We are looking to meet with the Tower Wizard and can negotiate terms of your release."

"Oh, wondrous... That is a relief." Margeaux sighed, touching a hand to her sternum. Her mouth twitched into a pout, very slightly.

"Is there an issue, young lady?" Tycon inquired.

"It's just that..." Margeaux snuggled closer to the Lone Shadowdark. The man seemed to be enjoying life with one of the woman's breasts mashed against his arm, "I haven't seen the Tower Wizard for nearly a moon..."

Lulu shrugged, "Weaklings die. Big deal."

Tycon nodded, "Not our problem. Can you get us into the tower?"

Margeaux nodded hesitantly, "Are... you guys here to rob the tower?"

"Yes, we are," Lone proudly exclaimed.

Tycon scowled, "No, we are not."

Lone frowned... "We kinda are, Boss."

"Tsss... We are here primarily for arcane materials. It would be best if we could barter or trade for them peaceably," Tycon explained.

He was not against taking the Wizard's valuables, but looters and traders were perceptibly different, with the latter looked upon more kindly.

"Oh!" The maid exclaimed, "I know where the Wizard keeps his most expensive materials! It's on the top floor."

Lone loosed an annoyed groan, "Yep. Of course."

Lulu nodded, "Makes sense."

"I expected no less," Tycon shrugged.

Traps existed on every floor of a Magic Tower. It was natural that the most protected items would be at its peak.

Sasha grimaced, bravely stepping forward, "Sssssasha..."

Everyone looked to her expectantly. Slowly, the chocolate elf retreated to behind Tycon without finishing her sentence. Tycon pat his daughter on the head.

He nodded to the half-elf maid, "Margeaux, let us enter the tower."

[Wizard Tower: Floor 1]

"There's a Magic Beast that guards the first floor," Margeaux explained. "I can open the door to allow you all inside, but once I enter, the magic spirits me away to a different floor..."

Lone was still holding onto her hand, "We'll come and rescue you, Margeaux. Just hold on."

The blushing maid released Lone's hand and politely bowed to the party, "I am in your debt, Guild Invictus."

Stepping through the open door, she faded away in a pink haze of mana.

Tycon sighed. With the woman gone, his plan to use her as an emergency sacrifice had been dashed.

Lone stepped forward bravely, "I... I'll go. This is my quest, after all."

Tycon shook his head, "No. You might die. Better me or..."

He looked over to Lulu. She was in the garden, sexually assaulting an angel statue. He wanted to scold her but... non-sentient statues didn't seem to be capable of giving or denying consent.

The well-armored, protected-by-the-power-of-nature Warden was crossing his arms, sitting by himself on the ground.

No... Levi Wolfrider had shown on several occasions that he couldn't be trusted with the most basic of tasks. Tycon took a deep breath and sighed, "Wait for me here...

"If I'm not back in half-a-bell..." Tycon glanced up at the Wizard Tower and groaned, "--wait longer."

Tycon stepped into the tower, feeling a buzz of mana trickle through him. The interior of the tower, as expected, was awash with ambient mana. His mind was clearer, his senses grew noticeably sharper, and his own internal mana coursed easier.

He stepped through the open-portal rooms, searching for the stairs... He found a lobby of sorts, some chairs, a table, and a few mundane scrolls. He noted a sleeping area with a few dozen beds and personal chests. Coming across the kitchen, however, Tycon came face-to-face with a 6-fulm tall, featherless rooster.