"You seem rather nervous, Zane. Beelzebub commented, the demon continuing his habit of making idle chatter inside Zane's head throughout the day. Zane wasn't in the mood on this particular afternoon. "Can you stop the peanut gallery act for like, 0.37 seconds?" Zane asked with his inner voice, his hand tapping away at his knee as he sat on a park bench in the middle of Baska. His heart was beating faster than it normally was. This wasn't exactly a new thing for Zane, but it was different this time around: his heart wasn't rushing because he had fallen for some random girl he met on the street or because he had been running and jumping around. That was your usual every day Zane kinda stuff. Today was different. Very different.

Across from the park bench was a street that led to the more suburban area of Baska. It was still within the town itself, but unlike the square he was currently in there wouldn't be any sign of merchants or travelers. That was where the locals lived. That was where he lived once upon the time. And most importantly... that was where his mother lived. "Oh, it's about your mother? How unoriginal. You worry about this every time we pass through! How hard can it be to meet with your parent? Who cares if you haven't seen her for a while?" Beelzebub tried his best to console his host on the issue, though the Lord of the Flies' own experiences didn't exactly match that of a human being. "I personally only see my mother around, hmmm.... every 6000 years or so? Something along those lines." Zane let out a loud audible groan, leaning over and clutching his head in his hands. "Not gonna do it." He spoke out loud, as though he was talking to himself as opposed to Beelzebub. No matter how hard he tried Zane was never able to summon the courage needed to go and face his mother. How many times had he passed by Baska on his travels now? At least a dozen. What harm could one more do, right? Zane was lucky enough to look completely different than he did 5 years ago, so he used that fact to get back up on his feet and get to some trouble around town while he was in the area.

10 minutes later, Zane had stuffed his face full of cotton candy. It was sold to him by a local merchant at a grossly unfair price. Beelzebub had tried to get Zane to negotiate a better deal (a skill the mage most certainly possesses the talent for) yet Zane shot down his demon friend's idea, saying something along the lines of "Paying extra is part of the Baska experience!" and such. Zane stuffed the last of it all in his mouth, letting the sweet sugar dissolve along his tongue. While Zane certainly did like the food in Baska he wanted to do something more than that while he was here. But what? Despite the fact that he grew up here, Zane had only just realized that there wasn't exactly much to do. "I guess this country boy's gotten spoiled by the big cities over the years..." He noted to himself.

And then it hit him. That same feeling he had gotten earlier. It had been nudging at the back of his mind constantly, no matter how hard he tried to push it back. His mother. His poor, sweet mother. She must miss him. But he had changed so much. Zane had done horrible things. He ha- no. No, no no. Zane stopped in his tracks. There was no way in hell he was gonna have a dramatic third-person inner monologue. He needed to get his mind somewhere else. What about girls? He liked girls, right? Time to go find a girl! "This feels about as forced as the majority of your jokes..." At this point Beelzebub was used to the kind of tomfoolery Zane threw out there, but this was certainly the most desperate of it all. Zane frantically searched around for any woman in the area who seemed the least bit pretty, eventually settling on one with peach colored hair. Approaching the woman, Zane walked up in a rather stiff motion. While he wasn't the most... traditionally charming man in the world, Zane certainly had an appeal unique to him on every other day. But today? Not so much.

Zane slowly walked towards the girl, thinking of his childhood ho - thinking of how she'd fall for him instantly, how he'd introduce her to his mo - know what? Zane would just talk. He was good at talking. If thinking wasn't going so well, perhaps whatever came out of his mouth would. Zane leaned up against the building wall near the girl, placing his left hand onto it and giving her his best smile. He was admittedly rather handsome. What would this strapping young man say to the cute girl in front of him? He said what any confident man would - the first thing that came to his mind. "Hey mom."

The entire world went silent. It was as though time had froze. During that moment, that one second interval in which Zane had to process what he just said, a million thoughts raced through his mind. All of them relating to embarrassment. When that one second had finally passed, it was as though Zane had gone through a decade of mental anguish.

Zane's face instantly became redder than the tomatoes growing on the nearby farms as he cleared his throat, scrambling to try and pick up the mess he made. "I mean... ma'am!" That wasn't exactly much better. While it was a start, Zane found it hard to get much of a mental foothold here thanks to Beelzebub loudly laughing in the back of his mind. The demon was no doubt entertained to the moon and back currently. Zane once again cleared his throat, this time determined to not slip up. "You a traveler? You know, I'm actually from here. I can even show you my hou-" Zane noticed his mistake, cursing in his mind a dozen or so times within the length of half a second. "I mean, uh, my favorite bar! You'll love it. Lemme buy you a drink, mo- miss. Miss. Yeah."

Of all the wacky shit Zane had found himself in, this was by far his most awkward.

The caravan wheels creaked under pressure as they rolled over the rocky path, blending in with the rhythmic steps of the two horses that drew them forth. As the small crowd of travelling merchants chattered brightly, a stranger to the land sat quietly at the edge of the caravan, taking in the everchanging surroundings while she moved further from home. Eventually, they came to a halt.

A cozy, crowded cacophony of brick houses surrounded by bright green plains and with an expansive mountain range as a backdrop- the destination was nothing short of picturesque. Ophelia wavered lightly as her feet reached the ground again after so long, partly overloaded by the influx of new stimuli. Compared to her quiet, isolated hometown, Baska’s bustling city centre was certainly a change of pace, to say the least.

“Welcome to Baska.” The older merchant - in all his scruffy glory - uttered as they came to the back of the caravan, swiftly turning their attention to the wares that she had sat beside.

“Baska?” She repeated thoughtfully, a Val’Elvarin accent subtly warping her rendition.

“Something like that.” The man chuckled after a brief pause, likely taking in the unorthodox pronunciation. “Plenty of food and shelter ‘round these parts. Just be careful of the prices, yeah? The locals like to be greedy.”

The peachy blonde would merely nod and smile, hiding the minor predicament that dawned on her at the hands of the merchant’s wisdom: she was completely and utterly broke.

Well, every plan needs a few oversights, right? Right?

Left to her own devices, Ophelia trailed off into the market-place, taking in the various stands like a child in a candy store. From odd-looking fruits and vegetables to rustic tools and trinkets, it felt like the world was opening up. It was taunting in a way, how everything was in range yet she couldn’t grasp it. All thanks to that stupid currency. But she too could play this game.

Finishing her wishful stroll, the half-elven sorceress had taken a moment of rest on a nearby bench. The small leather rucksack that carried most of her belongings received a proper shaking as her hands rustled through, attempting to latch onto anything that may be of value. During her search however, a big question mark popped up. Oversight two was on his way, and he wore a suspicious smile.

Putting on a polite smile of her own, Ophelia’s eyes glistened with a cautious curiosity as they trailed along the silhouette of the stranger. Instinctively, her hands reached for her hair, reassuring herself that her ears were well hidden behind the long strands that ran past her face. Perhaps it wasn’t necessary to hide anymore, but what risk was there in playing it safe.

Now, whatever could it be that motivated this human to reach out to her?

“Hey mom.”

Her kind expression struggled for a brief second: the ends of her mouth jolted down, her eyebrows arched up, and the glimmer in her eyes seemed to shift into confusion. She watched as the ginger-haired individual lost his composure, pressing out an awkward giggle in response to his correction. Crisis seemingly averted: he didn’t actually mistake her for his mother.

Ophelia tested her patience as she listened further to the inquiry, internally debating what on earth was going on. The earlier warning of the merchant man rang through her head as the stranger shakily admitted to being from Baska. Was this just an innocent request, or perhaps a ploy to sell her something? Given how often he tripped over his own words, her thoughts weren’t exactly positive.

Truth be told, Ophelia was ready to turn the weird enigma down and get back to her business, but then he uttered 5 magical words.

“Lemme buy you a drink”

Just like that, the faux-polite smile seemed to shift ever so slightly, a brightness returning to her eyes despite the chaos of this conversation. It may be superficial, but Ophelia wasn’t going to deny a free drink. Who knows, maybe there was even more to gain? This oddity seemed intriguing, after all.

“Hmm, favourite bar, you say? That does sound interesting.” She chimed, doing her utmost best to sound as Fiorian as she could (and likely failing). Ophelia would pull her backpack over her shoulder again and stand up, happily looking up at the stranger as if he hadn’t just called her mom.

“How about two drinks?” The half elf finished with a chuckle, attempting to mask her greedy request behind a flair of innocent teasing.

All seemed lost. The cute girl in front of Zane was just about ready to high-tail it out of there. Even Zane's insanely egotistical ass could tell he probably wasn't gonna go far in this particular scenario. Who could blame her, really? With the way Zane was presenting himself it seemed as though this would be a date with some kind of serial killer. "I disagree. A serial killer is far more charismatic than you could ever be." Beelzebub chimed in, his figurative little fly legs kicking Zane whilst he was down. A somewhat worried expression even came to light on his face. This wasn't like him. Maybe he'd have to just lay down and accept the loss. Maybe he wouldn't be doing anything with this gi-

Then it all changed. At the drop of the hat the woman suddenly seemed much, much more interested. There was the manner of her obviously forced Fiorian accent, but... hey, who cares right? Zane had donned an Icebergian accent in the past in an attempt to get a lady or two. "A failed attempt, if I remember correctly." Zane's comedy partner was very chatty today. "You don't have to comment on EVERYTHING." Zane ignored the little demon inside his head for a second to look clearly at the woman - from time to time his chats with Beelzebub could influence his facial expressions and make him look crazy. Best to avoid that for now.

Zane wasn't exactly a stranger to ruining his wallet (and life) thanks to women, but this was the first time he had met a girl who was so upfront about wanting more from the get go. Zane usually would think twice about something that blunt... but not today. He wanted to get control of his thoughts. He wanted to feel like he was in charge again, even for just a moment. So if getting there meant buying this greedy-ass woman two drinks instead of one... so be it! Zane flashed a charming smile at the woman, his confidence quickly returning. "Only two? You're worth a lot more than that, you know." Zane was quickly going down a slippery slope that he probably would regret hopping onto later in the day.

"Let's be on our way. It's a short walk from here." Everything in Baska was a short walk from here when you really got down to it. Zane seemed more than a bit hasty to get to the bar though, further illustrating his need to feel in control at the moment. He even went so far as to hold out his hand to see if this girl he had met would take it - she was almost certainly not going to, but it was worth a shot. He'd end up leading her to the pub either way, moving at a rather brisk walking pace as opposed to a leisurely one that people would expect in this kinda situation. Zane faced forward as he led the way to the pub, talking to the girl at his side (or perhaps to his rear) while he marched onwards.

"So, what's your name? And what's the deal with that fake Fiorian accent?" Zane asked, feeling 99% sure that the woman was just making it up. Didn't exactly take Sherlock Holmes to come to that conclusion.  "I'm willing to bet your voice is a lot more lovely without it - unless you're working for some role in a play, maybe? You're certainly pretty enough to be in one of those. I actually had to do a little accent for a play once, believe it or not." Bad memories came flooding in of a play Zane had to do while he was a kid here in Baska. "My Encan accent definitely didn't age well." He noted. Things truly were different back then.

While Zane let the girl answer, Beelzebub had a few concerns to bring up. "Did you see that girl's eyes, Zane?" Beelzebub asked, Zane blinking a couple times in confusion. "Yes, they're rather pretty. What about em?"

"They're greedy, Zane. Very greedy." Beelzebub was the demon who represented the sin of greed so it was safe to say that this was true. "Greedier than you, even. This woman WILL suck us dry, Zane." Zane raised an eyebrow at the fly's statement. "... but I want her to suck me dr-" A much harsher tone than usual interrupted Zane. "Shut up! Do not ignore my warnings, you absolute buffoon! I understand why you are doing this, but do not give up what WE have worked for to try and mess around with this random girl!"

"Sheesh, alright alright... just two drinks. I promise."

"Are you positive?" A hint of doubt still rested in Beelzebub's voice. "I'm sure. I promise." A heavy sigh left the little fly lips of the demon. It seemed as though he really did believe Zane. "Promise accepted."

Beelzebub had failed to notice one very important detail... Zane's fingers had been crossed that entire time.

All of a sudden Zane got hit by a realization. An epiphany that came from deep, deep, deep inside his soul. What was he doing here? Was he really going to just throw his money away for the sake of a woman he just met? For the sake of a woman who wasn't even as good at fake accents as him? No. He was better than this. He could still fix himself. He didn't have to stay on this path forever. He could use his money in better ways, like, NFTs or something! Zane could feel Beelzebub immediately chime in but tuned the demon out - a fly like him could never truly understand modern finances like Zane could. Zane was a genius. He had read half a book on economics once, you know. It was safe to say that he was more knowledgeable about the subject than 99.9% of the world's population. "I truly must apologize." Zane turned to the girl and said, faking the accent of some rich monopoly man who would most likely be seen with a top hat. "But the free market needs me. Farewell!" And with that Zane ran, chasing the mountains of money that most certainly awaited him somewhere or another.

EXIT