The Right Kind of Smile

“Are they always like this?” John asked Nancy, eyes on the heated debate. “I mean, I’ve played DnD, so I know things can get heated, but sheesh.”

“Pretty much,” Nancy grinned. “Dick and Wendy could get the party out of any and all situations if they could be bothered, but Dick loves to toy with people and Wednesday refuses to help in any way but through a riddle, it drives Hemet up the wall. Nobody wants to risk being indebted to Rora, so she always ends up doing her own thing, and Ina prefers to just weather whatever storms the arguments blow up.”

John looked between the skull-faced skaven and the hobo old man, who were both grinning like children as they poked and prodded ideas Hemet put forward. “How is this party even functional?”

“Well,” Nancy laughed, “I’m a pretty great DM. The Greatest in the World, in fact.”

“Says who?”

Nancy smirked. “You could say I was born to tell stories, but this particular title was given to me by the late Gary Gygax, bless his heart.”

“You played Dungeon Master for Gary Gygax?” John asked, more impressed than doubtful.

“Of course! Even I get tired of these fellas from time to time,” Nancy gestured to the party (still arguing), “and need to switch ‘em out for people more tolerable. But now is not the time to talk about the past. Let’s talk about that problem of yours while our little game is on pause.”

“Oh, sure,” John agreed.

“Now, I’ll say this first: I’m not a man who revels in direct confrontation, so if you’ve come to ask for my direct involvement, it’ll cost you. But advice? I can give that.”

“But still at cost?” John checked.

Nancy blinked and laughed. “You’d have to have quite the pair of balls to enter into a negotiation demanding free favours.”

“So what’s the price for your advice?”

Nancy hummed and placed a thumb on the butt of his chin, as if to think about it, but John got the sense the strange man had known what he wanted before he let John in the door. “How about you and I have a chat some time in the future? We’ll talk about you, like we did the first time we met.”

“Why?”

“You’re an interesting guy, my friend,” Nancy chuckled.

“And what would you do with the information?”

“Oh, nothing sinister, I promise,” Nancy smiled, showing his white teeth. “It’ll just be a learning experience.”

John was sure Nancy wasn’t being totally honest with him, but his proposal seemed relatively harmless, and John really needed every edge when it came to dealing with Vulpis. “Okay, that’s fine,” he told the spider.

Nancy clapped his hands once. “Excellent!” he said, before his casual demeanour changed to something more serious. “Now, you haven’t been keeping up on your reading, have you?”

“No,” John sighed, already knowing that with such an easy way to absorb information, he should have been consuming books as much as possible.

“It’s time to start, my friend,” Nancy told him. “But it seems you realise this. Good, good. Next question, do you have any stat points spare?”

“Yeah, seven,” John told him.

“Invest it all in Charisma,” Nancy advised.

“Why?” John asked, confused. “If I’m going to be drawn into a fight with a warg alpha, shouldn’t I get stronger first?”

“Ah, but there is strength to be found in charm,” Nancy said sagely, his lips curled into a smile. “Charm will make you friends and, more importantly, loyalty. The most devastating kind of enemy is one who inspires loyalty. Charm can also disarm your opponent, and open up opportunities brute **** simply cannot comprehend. You said you have a meeting, no? It will be wit and the right kind of smile that wins you the aid of the Order, not your physical strength or magical aptitude.”

“So you’re saying to deal with the present issue before you tackle future ones?” John summarised.

“You can’t take on a pack without one of your own,” Nancy nodded, before winking. “And a little charm goes a long way to building one.”

Nancy made a good point. He hadn’t expected to feel a difference, but as John emptied his unused stat points into Charisma, he began to feel more confident. Unconsciously, his body posture shifted and the odd blemish here and there vanished. Equally unbeknownst to John, the humble spark of his aura flared just a little brighter, taking on the same alluring scaffold that the likes of Alexander III of Macedon, King Arthur, Lincoln, Churchill, Hitler, and so many other charismatic leaders of past and present built on.

“Moving on, let’s talk about how you present your case and what you actually want from the Order,” Nancy continued. “Like any group that tries to behave in a ‘lawfully good’ manner, they’re a pain in the arse to deal with. It’s important to remember that they’re not the good guys -- they’re an organisation of individuals with an agenda, like any other -- but they want to think that they are. Play to that. Best case scenario is they support you in an offensive, but I can’t see them doing that without some extraordinary benefit, more likely is they agree to provide protection, but no more.”

“Say I aimed for the former, what would I need to do?”

Nancy drummed the fingers of his right hand against the table while scratching his chin with the other. “They won’t help you for you, but they may if it improves their own image. You’d need two things: proof and publicity. Your lovely girlfriend will go a long way to convincing the Order, but you’d need hard evidence.”

John thought for a moment, then Photo Mode sprang to mind. “I took pictures of a dungeon where Vulpis **** and abused three women. It was done with one of the features of my power,” he explained. “They’re stored in my head, I think, but I was told I can transfer them onto any hard drive.”

“Good, good,” Nancy grinned. “You have a phone, I take it?”

“Yeah,” John said, taking it out of his pocket. He opened his stats window and changed over to Photo Mode. There was a gallery icon, and inside were the two pictures he’d taken of the dungeon. John shuddered as he remembered his brief time down there, the pervasive smell of blood, sex, and burnt flesh. He found that Photo Mode allowed him to edit the photos as you would in a program like Photoshop. It was a neat feature, but for now all he changed was the brightness so that the murky dungeon could be seen more clearly. Once finished, he selected both the images, and an option to download them onto his phone appeared, so with no more hassle than the click of a button, they were saved as a high resolution .png on his phone.

“Ah, you even have Perrault in the shot, lovely,” Nancy said after being shown the photos. “Now for the problematic factor: publicity. The unfortunate truth is that you’re nobody in the Abyss. Your powers make you special, yes, but you have no influence, and nothing the Order might want but your service. On that note: I wouldn’t recommend you tell them about your powers; they may not receive you as well as you might expect. More than likely they’d try to rope you into a contract of service and exploit you for everything you’re worth -- and they wouldn’t be as gentle about it as as I am,” Nancy joked. Or maybe he wasn’t joking, John couldn’t tell.

“Right,” he said, brow furrowed. “So keep the Gaia thing under lock, and asking for help in attacking Vulpis won’t work. Got it. Any tips for getting them to provide protection, then?”

Nancy gestured to John’s phone. “The photos will help either way. You’ve also got that adorable little Daughter of the Rose smitten with you. Her support will go a long way to getting you what you need, and it’s a relationship worth grooming for the future. Just tread lightly with the religious ones, especially Wardens, they can be… well let’s just say they get a bit antsy when it comes to the topic of sex,” Nancy said, chittering as he gave John a wink.

Moira was totally fuckable, sure, but somehow, John didn’t think daddy Brighton would approve. He had already fucked one rich girl which, in hindsight, might not have been the best choice to make. He didn’t plan on making that list any longer than the one person on it. So, for now at least, John planned to resist his boners and simply keep Moira as a valued friend.

“Lastly, and we touched on this briefly, be careful with any contracts they may offer. Magic contracts are infinitely more tricky than the kind you might be familiar with. Break one and suddenly you’ll smell worse than a stink bomb on a hot day, and it won’t be as simple as a scrub in the shower to wash it off,” the spider finished.

“That’s all?” John frowned, not exactly feeling any more confident. He’d expected the enigmatic man’s advice to be a little more… spectacular. Granted, what he’d said wasn’t something John had thought of on his own, but it just seemed so grounded and sensible it was almost disappointing coming from the strange god that was Nancy.

“Well, what did you expect?” he laughed. “The only other bit of advice that might help you is to go read a book on negotiations or something. I’m sure I could find you one, but that’d cost you extra, and you won’t really need it. You’re a clever boy, my friend. I’m sure you’ll keep your head on during the meeting and do just fine. Afterwards? Who am to say what’ll happen?” the sly god laughed.