Prince Alexander

Leia and I spend the night in a sort of one-sided intellectual sparring match; where I ask the dumb questions, she admonishes me for not knowing, and I creep ever closer to understanding the dynamics of this dumpster-fire I’ve been dragged into.

The birds’ eye overview of which is this: A powerful royal family has ruled this city for about 500 years; a human family with exceptional magic talent. Their progenitor king massacred the previous government with some sort of instant-kill magic. Even the postmen were killed, due to an argument in the palace where this king felt slighted. Having defeated dragons, demons and plagues, he felt nothing should stand in his way. Recognizing his power, a group of elves came out of hiding and allied themselves to the king, bringing even more magic ability to bear and carrying out reforms that transformed the capital from a downtrodden backwater to a decently clean major city.

Unfortunately for them, 500 years of attempting to carry on their legacy resulted in nothing but issues. Every human child born to them was completely inept in magical ability. Half-breeds with elves, dwarves, demi-humans, even magically-incubated clones failed to recreate the sheer power of The First King. Once this became public knowledge, opposing factions rallied and plunged the nation of Laios into civil war. Various heroes swept away rebelling armies, gaining vassalships and power, before getting ideas of their own and attempting to rebel themselves. The remnants of these elevated vassal families wreaked havoc in recent times, but were all defeated by a coalition of Slimes, backed by a seemingly limitless amount of funding and influence. And of course, to further add to the confusion, the Slimes renamed the nation to Laios, after the capitol, but sympathizers refer to it as Lamara in private. That's not my problem, thankfully.

These Slimes then engaged in total war with eachother, leaving three Lords among them. One of which I saw today, Uragas, who owns the entire city quarter surrounding us. These slimes have completely abdicated their responsibility of benevolent leadership, extracting every possible profit from local businesses under threat of death, and mercilessly kill their opposition when discovered.

The Slimes are differentiated by their aptitude for certain kinds of magic. Uragas is an ice slime, which is extremely unusual because they are believed to have an inherent handicap in terms of magical power.

Then, there’s Volcan, as the name would suggest, a fire slime. Volcan spends his time voluntarily held within a magical barrier, if it were released, it would destroy the city. He is rumored to be the most sympathetic to “flesh bags”. Unfortunately, communication with him is nearly impossible, as his barrier and essence consumes anything carbon-based.

Finally, there is “Ios”, the most financially powerful and secretive of the Slime Lords. She had risen to power by poisoning the other Slimes and bending them to her will; her magical ability is personally constrained by a department of the College of Magic in the center of the city by formal agreement. No one has ever seen her. As a hobby, she sends out microscopic tendrils of herself which pierce her protective barrier, touching innocent civilians which corrupts them spiritually, then physically, giving the other Slimes “things to do”. A thoroughly nasty being.

Having been brought up to speed on the Slime Problem, I slumped back in my chair in disbelief. At this point, I think I’m the most depressed I’ve ever been. There’s truly no way out of this quagmire.

“BUT!” Leia interjects, “There is someone who can help you. The Second Prince, Alexander. He’s been fully briefed by the Elven council, the College, and is very interested in meeting you.”

My eyes crack open. The second prince? What about the first one? I shouldn’t ask.

“I’ve scheduled us to meet with him at his palace first thing in the morning. He’s already witnessed your character today, he’s excited to meet you.”

Witnessed my character? I won’t put anything past these elves; I assume I’ve been watched since the moment I arrived here. Very well. Time to meet some royalty.

A maid knocks on the door. She’s delivering tea for us. We graciously accept, and I begin to see rays of sunlight peeking through the veiled window of our hotel suite. Once we finish, Leia stops me as I stand up.

“Stand still.”

Huh?

A white light envelopes my body.

“What are you doing?”

“Cleaning your clothes, stand still.”, she answers acerbically.

AHA! I thought something like this was happening. I’ve been in these same clothes for almost three days, yet they’ve been spotless, even my underwear didn’t smell. She must have been doing this while I was asleep.

The white light fades. “There. Don’t say anything.”

I raise an eyebrow, but decide not to inquire further. For all the cultural faux-pas the elves have shown me, this is one I’ll let slide. It’s better than dry cleaning. There must be some kind of stigma associated with this.

We saunter down the stairs to find another, decidedly less luxurious carriage awaiting our journey to Alexander’s palace. A different butler, and much less fanfare this time. We climb into the cloth seats of the carriage and set off promptly. It rattles and hops over bumps, shaking us around quite violently.

“What kind of guy is this Alexander?”, I ask.

“He’s nice. You’ll like him. Just don’t be rude, that’s all I ask.”, Leia responds, with that typical elven distrust.

After a rather raucous ride, we arrive in front of a walled gate within the city. The butler beckons us to disembark, and we’re met with a crude, vine-covered villa in an obvious state of disrepair. The gate swings open by itself. We walk down the weed-covered entrance path to see a grimy, sandstone-like two-story structure enroached by vines, severely neglected. The oaken front door swings open, and two elven maids greet us.

“You must be John!”, one of them chirps, “Please, come inside.”

The initial impression is breathtaking. The front door steps down immediately to a staircase, the initial floor being at least 10 feet below what one expects. Strewn in black and white octagonal large tiling, the floor is spotless and shiny. A grand staircase dominates the middle of the front entrance, rising up to a lofty second floor balcony with golden fixtures and railings.

There’s an eerie quiet pervading the room. I hear footsteps, firm footsteps. At the top of the balcony arrives a small, sickly figure, dressed in black with a hooded robe obscuring his face. An elegant, yet strained voice rings down to us.

“Please, make yourselves at home. The guests’ lounge is to your right, I will be with you shortly.”

We made our way to the lounge. It’s neatly arranged with a small standing bar, some couches, a table, and a central fireplace. The musty smell of old hardwood and dust is pervasive. One of the maids had ran up the stairs to tend to the lord of the house, and the other settled us in for our wait.

A few minutes later, a knock on the door brought our host to us. With some new candles lit, I finally got a look at Prince Alexander. His silverish-white hair gleams in the candle-light. Grey eyes, a gaunt face, and a decidedly thin build. He’s young, but gives off an indelible impression of frailty. He proceeds delicately to the singular chair at the head of the couches, and settles down for our discussion. His elven maids are closely monitoring him.

“You must be our new Chief...” he says, weakly.

“Yes sir, that seems to be the case.”

“I’m sure Leia has filled you in on the basics here. You have a great burden ahead of you.”

No kidding.

“You must save this city from the grips of evil. Outside factors have corrupted the very character of our nation. A revolution can only begin with a reform starting from a steadfast, just application of law and order.”

A revolution?

“There is a poison in this city, one that pervades even the souls of those afflicted. You must defeat it at any cost. You have been blessed with an ability to see this through, though you may not yet know it.”

He coughs, violently, causing one of the maids to rush to his side. She wipes his mouth with a handkerchief, revealing a bloody stain, which she tries to hide.

“I have arranged, to the best of my ability, staff to assist you in your journey. They will support you as best they can. Please, rely on them, especially Leia.”

Leia seems embarrassed by being called out directly like this. The concern on the maid’s face grows increasingly more severe.

“Please, help us. You may not have magical ability, but your expertise is something this nation needs. I hope to be here when you’ve finished.”

Alexander broke into a horrible coughing fit and we were ushered out of the room. A new maid comes to us with a written request.

We are to head to the Laios Provincial Police Headquarters and gain a full understanding of the department before my assuming office as Chief. Finally. It can’t be that bad, right?