Dubious Pies

"Oh, there you are, Arthur. Took you long enough," said Hennes as Arthur came clomping into the large kitchen. A dozen cooks with tall white mushroom hats waltzed around elegantly as they prepared to cook large quantities of food. The two mercenaries from earlier were standing there by the side, though, Arthur did not know why they were there, nor did he care to ask. He had asked them to join him in the carriage so he could ask about Soran, but whatever they did next he had no interest in. Next to Hennes stood two other executives who specialized in cookery, and surrounding them were a number of maids and butlers. One of them walked up and handed Arthur a menu of the banquet.

"I presume you already made sure that it is up to standard," said Arthur as he looked at the first course. It read: 'Glazed meat pie with pickled figs and elderberry jelly'.

"Good use of local resources. Good, good. There are tons of elderberries growing along the edge of the Barren Crag, after all. I'm presuming the meat is glazed with agave, and figs we have aplenty. Am I right so far?"

"Quite so. I would expect nothing less from the one and only," said Hennes in response. He then perused over to Arthur's side and led him past the large fire ovens that were empty (the pies had been made quite a while prior to their arrival as they were meant to be served quite cool) and to a separate wing of the kitchen where the pies were all lined up and ready to be served. Tok followed just by their side, and so did the two mercenaries and some butlers.

"Here you can check their delicacy in person," said Hennes as he handed Arthur a long fork. Arthur then proceeded to scrape one of the pies with the fork which made a sound as if the crust was crumbling to pieces even though it remained intact. "Well baked," he proclaimed, before digging around into the pie with his fork like a tiny shovel, looking around inside, and then finally taking a small taste.

"There are onions in here too, I see. Well seasoned. No complaints from my end," said Arthur while he slapped his tongue against the roof of his mouth in rapid succession. "What a shame that one of these pies has to be poisoned, don't you think?"

"Oh yes, real shame, real shame..." mumbled Hennes who had his eyes up in the ceiling, looking at nothing in particular.

"Could I see this particular pie of poison? I'm just curious if it looks any different," asked Arthur while stroking his bushy gray mustache.

"Of course. They're right over there," said Hennes, pointing to the corner of the room.

"They're?" stammered Arthur as he cocked an eyebrow before turning to look where Hennes was pointing. Hennes did not misspeak: 'they're' was correct. In the corner of the room were two inconspicuous pies next to each other, and though he had already noticed them before, he had assumed they were separately made for special requests or something of the like.

"Why are there two? You don't expect to hand him two pies, do you?" asked Arthur raising his voice. Something was afoot, something that he had not seen coming.

"One for the 'man'," hissed Hennes through his smirk. "One for the 'mercenary'."

"You wouldn't dare! I will not have it! This is not what we agreed upon! What rights do you think you command to decide upon this!?" cried Arthur as he marched toward Hennes with his finger waving in the air, accidentally knocking over some pots and pans on the way which made an ear-piercing cacophony of rattling metal against stone. Jeana had lied.

"My rights? I would not dare have the audacity to decide such a thing, my friend," said Hennes. "This is a direct order from higher authority. Could you believe the diamond commissioner herself ordered this double assassination personally?" he continued. The two unassuming mercenaries slowly approached from the sides, and upon seeing this, Tok proceeded to flank Arthur.

"I shan't have it! I may bend to fit many molds, but I'm not some scrupulous fiend who could bend over and take such a maneuver in the arse, not over my dead body I will!" cried Arthur at the top of his lungs. His anger was unbridled. Never did he think to be betrayed like this, but in his rage, he steadied his breathing. Soran didn't need to eat the pie as long as he informed him when he came back; after all, that is what he had decided to do. In fact, the problem wasn't the pie itself, but rather the intention behind it. The fact that there even was an order for Soran's assassination was an issue in and of itself.

It was time to get to the bottom of this. A sudden fire had enveloped his heart, something that sprung from deep within his soul after meeting with Soran. Some things are more important than one's shiny desk, and valley-folk don't abandon each other. He, Soran, and that new powerful fellow could perhaps get down to the root cause of this evil within: the diamond commissioner. Jeana. Perhaps they could put an end to her tyranny, the tyranny which Arthur Bettlebook had ignored for far too long. Unfortunately, his plans had an unknown kink in their gears.

The mercenaries who had steadily approached had now revealed their weaponry and lunged towards Arthur, and Hennes managed to say something along the lines of: "make sure you don't kill him now, riff-raff," as they lept in, but in the blink of an eye, Tok had circled around and stomped one of the mercenaries out cold and tussled with the other, eventually throwing him far across the kitchen, wherein he slammed back-first into a water basin, tipping it over and its contents. The cooks, despite all of the turbulence, kept waltzing around the kitchen undisturbed except mayhaps for a few passing glances.

Tok pulled a hammer from his side used for hitting nails and such and brandished it like a dagger. The mercenaries were effectively out of commission, but before Tok could move to strike again or escort Arthur out of there, half a dozen butlers and maids quickly lined up and cracked forth previously concealed individual flintlock pistols, aiming them at their targets. Tok seized his movement and locked in place.

"It seems your buffoonery ends here, executive," snarked Hennes as he applauded his team of loyal butlers and maids. "Surrender yourselves and we will not need to dispose of you. Resist, and, well, you know what happens."

Tok was ready to put his life on the line to get Arthur out of there, but Arthur put his hand on Tok's broad shoulders, before shaking his head in defeat.

"I concede. You win. Take me, then, wherever you shall," said Arthur lowering his head. His hat that he always wore for festive activities promptly fell off and hit the ground like a feather. Tok widened his eyes at Arthur, who made three discreet hand signs behind his back. Tok's face became steeled suddenly, and with that, Arthur sprung forth like a spring as he tried to make an escape, but before the butlers and maids could pull their trigger and before Arthur moved any further distance, Tok grabbed him by his neck and tossed him to the floor, restraining his arms behind his back, causing Arthur to violently heave.

Hennes could only laugh, and he did. He laughed a rough laugh that crackled as it came out of his gaping mouth. Even the butlers and the maids lowered their pistols in surprise.

"Are you serious now, Arthur? So much for the so-called 'dog tamer': it seems that they are not as loyal as you once thought. What was your name again, bodyguard? Tok, was it? What's your deal?" asked Hennes through unrestrained fits of cackling.

"I was tasked to make sure he stayed in place. That's all you need to know," said Tok as he glanced at Hennes with cold eyes, who in turn stopped cackling.

"Well, I guess we can never have too many allies." Hennes looked down at Arthur who groveled on the ground. "I never did think that you were fit to be a part of the Federation, my dear Arthur. You were always too affiliated with the slums and their rats."

"You know nothing of honor or pride, Hennes. You're just another imposter among us, pretending to want the best for River Valley. But I see past your deception. The truth lies in that despicable and complacent smirk you carry around when you think that things are going your way, but trust me on this, son, you will face judgment day in due time. That, I promise you," hissed Arthur through gritted teeth.

"Yes, yes. How heroic. Take him away."

Tok dragged Arthur along the ground as he pulled him upright, and along with some butlers they marched through the kitchen, past some corridors, and down into dark underground cellars. As they descended the stairs, Tok could feel two cold points pressing against his back as they walked down, and without any time to react, one of the butlers behind him spoke: "don't try anything now, Mr. Tok. If you truly are working for us, then you shall understand that this protocol is necessary." Arthur's eyes widened before he closed them in prayer: "oh, the fair lady, on all that is just, please...".

Meanwhile—

Monkey's chanties had already been quieted down by Soran, and replacing those merry tunes was a new set of music played by a band of wandering bards off by a small stage in the large hall. Eloquent chattering echoed throughout the chambers, and Soran was waiting for Arthur's return, but his patience was drawing thin. Monkey tugged at him occasionally and would say something irrelevant, before turning back around and conversing with the aristocratic guests.

"This here is my newfound friend and ally, Soran! The monarch finder! He has seen the world from the inside out, I guarantee it! He is only my guide, so please forgive him if he's not so talkative," cheered Monkey, stumbling over his words. It was a wonder that he even managed to form sentences at this point; Soran hadn't taken him for someone with weak alcohol tolerance, but be it as it is, everyone had their weaknesses. The small crowd of people that had been forced into communicating with Monkey always repeated the same responses of "yes indeed", "is that so", and "how nice", before awkwardly chuckling with forced smiles and averting their gazes.

Thankfully, Monkey, in his drunken stupor, had not mentioned anything regarding what Soran had said before they entered the foyer. In this, Soran took comfort. He still had a chance to save Gragas were he to be in trouble. Best case scenario: Gragas had nothing to do with this whole debacle and they would dine in comfort and leave without trouble, but Soran sincerely doubted that this would be the case.

Finally hearing commotion from the door where Arthur had entered, Soran looked back to see butlers and maids come out with wooden trolly carts full of food and drink.

"Finally!" said Monkey as he stood up and gave applause, and in turn, for some reason, the whole gathering began applauding. Monkey's exuberant demeanor seemed to have somehow spread among the aristocratic folk; a rarity to say the least.

Soran planted his forehead into his palm. You might think that he felt partly ashamed of Monkey's behavior, but this was not the case. Nay, he pondered on the question of where Arthur had gone, for the fact of the matter was that a group of executive-looking individuals had exited from the kitchen area, but Arthur was nowhere to be seen. He lifted his forehead just slightly and began darting his eyes around the hall, scanning anything he could. He had to find something, some lead, anything that could point him to what was going on. He looked at the tables, the silverware, the large potted plants in between the long tables, the candelabras, the butlers and maids, the food and drink. He crafted a hundred and more theories on what could be happening and what could happen, but nothing was certain.

The pies were being served quickly and effectively along with apéritif. Monkey's and Soran's pies were served by separate butlers, and the captivating smell restarted Soran's growling stomach. He had completely forgotten about the original reason to why he came here in the first place.

Monkey started digging in without hesitation—his knife and fork moving at high speeds to and from the plate and into his mouth—until he almost had finished half of it. Soran was about to dig in as well, but he noticed something that made him stop in his tracks and reconsider. The dining hall's chattering had suddenly toned down halfway, and that change occurred as soon as Monkey had started eating. It was as if the very hall itself had just taken a deep breath, and at that point, Soran looked over to Monkey who halted his eating frenzy. Monkey had closed his eyes, and compared to his previous drunken swaying, he now seemed very still, calm, and collected, like a meditating monk upon a tranquil mountain. Though, unlike the monk, Monkey's brows suddenly furrowed, and his veins began glowing golden, at which point he opened his eyes—eyes that too shone of gold.

Monkey suddenly twisted his dexterous body—his drunken stupor was no more—and threw his knife at Soran's pie with incredible force, piercing it and sticking to the table like an arrow to its target. The hall turned silent except for a few murmurs, but the butlers and maids all froze stiff with eyes upon the dynamic duo.

"Monkey, what's going on!?" called Soran, who in truth already had an idea of what was happening.

Monkey walked up and yanked the knife from the pie with a twang before flicking its juices at a nearby plant. At first, nothing seemed to happen, and the hall held its breath bated, but within seconds the plant went from green to brown to gray to purple before turning to a half-sludge half-crumble as it withered in front of them.

"I don't know what kind of poison this is, but I'm certain they were not just trying to give us tummy aches, now were they," said Monkey as he lifted and slammed his foot down on the table with a great rumble before pointing his knife at the gathering. "I quite enjoyed my time with you lot, but if you don't mind, would the culprit of this facade stand up and take responsibility? You nearly killed my guide."

"Putrescence liquor. Despicable," scoffed Soran. "You could kill a hundred men and then some with this poison, and it doesn't come cheap. Looks like neither you nor I alone were the culprit, Monkey, as it seems we both carried that title."

Monkey's chest throbbed like a drum as he let out a hearty laugh.

The reverberation of footsteps springing into action suddenly boomed across the dining hall when about half of the company of butlers and maids charged at Monkey and Soran with weapons of different varieties previously concealed. The rest of them cracked forth pistols. The aristocrats cried and squealed as they fled for cover.

"Looks like we have to fight our way out of here!" cried Soran, readying his stance.

"How exciting!" howled Monkey as he cracked his neck like clockwork.