SJ walked through town. The streets were still busy in the early evening, and traders were just starting to pack their stalls up for the day. Many stayed open quite late with the days as long as they were. Reaching the outskirts of the town, she approached the church. The sun’s evening rays shone brightly on the multitude of flowers that decorated the graveyard’s grounds, their petals open and wide, bathing in its warmth. SJ had always found it surreal to see the clash of life and death in one place.
As she approached the door to the church, it opened. Lythonian was just leaving.
“Hi, Lythonian,” SJ said, smiling.
“Hey, SJ,” Lythonian returned the smile with his toothy grin. “How can I help you? I was just locking up for the night?”
“I have come to look at the ledgers for you if you wish. Sorry I didn’t return immediately; I have been a little busy.”
“That’s ok. Let me go and grab them.”
SJ followed Lythonian back into the church and proceeded to collect the journals. There were six in total, and they were heavy leather-bound affairs.
“These are all of the church’s financial details from the past four years. I thought it may help if I gave you some from before I started.”
“That could be useful, thank you. I will start looking through them and see if anything stands out.”
“I have always been meticulous in my record keeping, so I hope it is not an error I have made,” Lythonian said with a worried look.
SJ picked up the large books and added them to her inventory, thankfully removing the need to carry them due to their weight. Her display triggered.
Quest – Find the source
Locate the discrepancy in funds and find out what is happening.
Rewards: 200xp + reputation
Would you like to accept the quest? Yes/No
SJ accepted yes. Noticing a small icon on her display that she hadn’t seen before, she selected it. A quest log screen opened, and on the screen, she had a list of quests either in progress or completed. That would make tracking things easier, and she remembered that Dave had mentioned that displays could be altered and that she would have to investigate the interface more to see what else it had available.
“I will return the books as soon as I can.”
“I have just started a new ledger today, so I do not require those back immediately.”
“I hope I can get to the bottom of it before you are dragged away to answer charges.”
“Thank you. I was just going to get some food; would you like to join me?”
“That would be nice,” SJ hadn’t eaten today, and her stomach growled.
Lythonian locked the church, and they walked back to the rectory. The small house on the edge of town was one of the plainest SJ had seen. There was nothing ostentatious about it, and it was obvious that Lythonian didn’t live a life of luxury. He fussed in the kitchen for a while before bringing out two bowls of stew.
“What is it?” SJ asked.
“Vegetable stew. It is home-cooked, and I grow the vegetables in the garden.”
SJ picked up a wooden spoon she had been given and tasted the food. It was delicious and reminded her of the stews her mum made in wintertime. Having it on what could only be classed as a summer day was a little strange, but from Dave’s explanation, the weather here didn’t change much.
After finishing the meal and wishing Lythonian a good evening, she returned to the inn. It was still heaving and filled with the sounds of laughing and singing as she approached. It really was the hub of the town. After walking to the bar and getting a coffee, she went to her room. Removing the books from her inventory and placing them on a table, she began the laborious task of reading through them.
“I need a pencil and paper,” SJ said suddenly.
Dave had been silent the whole time she had been with Lythonian and only now spoke up.
“For what,” he said, yawning.
“Why are you yawning? You don’t sleep.”
“Do you know how boring it is watching someone read through ledgers and look at numbers for so long, randomly muttering to yourself?”
“It hasn’t been that long,” SJ replied, looking at the time on her display. She had been going through them for nearly four hours, and the light had faded outside. It reminded her of what she was like back at work, the number of times colleagues had to get her to stop for the evenings. When she got focused, she lost all track of time. “Ok. A little longer than I expected, perhaps. It’s fascinating, though, seeing how everything has been recorded. Just glancing at the difference between the years before Lythonian took over and now. His records are so thorough, I can see why he is confused at where any loss may have come from.”
“This has to be one of the most boring quests I have ever witnessed.”
“It’s not boring. Numbers are fascinating,” SJ smiled.
“For you, maybe. They are not for me.”
“Are you not an AI who talks about altering his code, which is basically just 1’s and 0’s?”
“Oh no. Coding is much more than that. Imagine a DNA string made up of multiple strands of detailed information. Now that is interesting.”
SJ had never gotten her head around coding. It had always seemed like a foreign language to her. Some of SJ’s friends had thought her passion for her work a little strange, but she had always loved numbers and working with them. If she hadn’t become a forensic accountant, she was pretty sure she would have been an accountant anyway. The economics behind the financial sector had always interested her, and listening to Setu describe the town’s way of working had enthralled her.
“I still need a pencil and paper to make notes, though.”
Just then, there was a knock at the door, and she heard an excited voice outside.
“SJ? Are you there?”
She didn’t recognise the voice straight away.
“Who is it?”
“Fhyliss.”
SJ opened the door and saw Fhyliss standing with a grinning face before her.
“Hi, Fhyliss. What’s wrong?”
“Oh. Nothing is wrong. I just came to say thank you.”
“Thank you for what?”
“Mayor Maxwell told us that if it wasn’t for you, we might have ended up in lockdown again.”
“Oh, he did?” SJ was surprised that he had easily admitted his shortcomings, and she felt a new level of respect for him.
“Mum says that you can stay with us next week for free. That is if you were planning on staying here longer?”
“That would be amazing, and yes, I plan on staying. I don’t suppose you know where I can get a pencil and paper, do you?”
“Sure. I can get you some; follow me.”
SJ left the room, locked the door, and followed Fhyliss further down the hallway. She had never even walked to the end of the hall, only ever stopping at her door. The hall turned a corner and came to another door. Taking a key from her pocket, Fhyliss opened the door and let SJ inside.
“Is this where you live?”
“Yes. This is home,” Fhyliss replied.
The area must have taken up nearly half the floor space of the inn below, and there was a large open living room and then bedrooms off the main room. There was no kitchen area, which made sense with the kitchen downstairs. Fhyliss walked to one of the doors and opened it. When SJ expected to be a bedroom, she was wrong and completely taken aback by what she saw. The inside of the small room was an artist’s paradise. Pictures and paintings were everywhere, from creatures to landscapes to people.
“Wow. Are these yours?” SJ asked in amazement.
“Yes. I paint and draw in my spare time,” Fhyliss walked over to a small table and rifled through a drawer before removing a notebook and then picking up a pencil from a pot on her desk. “Here you go, this should do you.” She said, handing them to SJ.
SJ took them, “Thank you. I will get them back to you when I am finished.”
“No, keep them. I have loads of spares, and just let me know if you need any more.”
“You should put your artwork on display in the inn.”
“Do you think so?”
“Yes. It’s amazing.”
“I may speak to Mum and see what she thinks.”
“I bet you could sell some of those quite easily.”
“I have never thought about selling any of them. I just paint and draw because I enjoy it.”
SJ went back to her room, wishing Fhyliss a good night. It was coming close to midnight, but by the sounds of the bar, things were still in full swing, and Fhyliss had to get back to help. SJ’s display triggered.
Congratulations! Your reputation with Fhyliss was raised to Friendly.
SJ went back into her room and continued looking through the ledgers.
“SJ,” Dave shouted.
SJ woke, realising she had fallen asleep while still working through the ledgers. She sat upright, stretching and standing from the desk.
“Morning. I can’t believe I fell asleep at the desk.”
“You were snoring well,” Dave chuckled.
SJ looked at the time. It was 08:05. She had no idea when she fell asleep. She did have some suspicions over what may have happened to the money and needed to go and start investigating. It felt just like being back on Earth, her passion for getting to the truth burning inside her. She had written down a list of individuals from the ledger accounts she wanted to speak to.
“Exercises, breakfast, and then off to work,” SJ said cheerily.
“You sound happy this morning.”
“I have things to do and people to see.”
Having a quick wash in the cold water from the pump, she freshened herself up and left the inn, heading to the meadow. The early morning sun shone brightly on the picturesque scene, and she got straight into her training regime. Returning to the inn shortly after she felt much better this morning.
“Please remind me to do my wing exercises later,” she told Dave as she ate breakfast. She had gone for a bowl of porridge with sweet honey this morning, and SJ had no idea how Floretta made porridge taste so amazing. Drinking the last of the coffee she had, she went up to the room, gathered the notebook and pencil, and then left to begin her rounds of speaking to people.
It was later in the afternoon before SJ returned to the inn, having spoken to half a dozen town members about various things related to the church. She had not said what she was doing but had gotten snippets of information from the people she spoke to. Due to this she had started to draw suspicions about two of them. One was a female elf named Lorian, and the other was a male dwarf named Cet. There were minor anomalies in the journals about the charity donations that had been recorded and transferred to town members. Reading the journals had brought to light that the town’s economy was not as affluent as it seemed and that several had to survive through donations.
The elf and dwarf oversaw the church’s foodbank. It was funded through charitable donations, but when SJ investigated the income and expenditure, very small anomalies showed that payments had been made without reference to goods received. She had realised that it was not just Lythonian who completed the ledgers; several church congregation members helped complete them.
“The town is not as well off as it seems. I had my suspicions when we went to the jail, but they are even more apparent now,” SJ said.
“I must agree. On the surface, the town seems like everything is working well, and everyone is happy, but I think there is a darker side to it,” Dave replied.
“I am going to go and visit some of the areas of town where these foodbank donations are stated as being delivered.”
SJ was only aware of the one area of town that led towards the barracks, where the buildings had seemed poorer, but when reviewing the journal, there were several. She asked for directions to one of the named streets, and a kind old kobold told her where to go.
The location was towards the east of town, and she had not been there before. The streets were much closer, the thatches almost touching, and as she walked down the street, she started to get looked at by several of the occupants. Starting to feel a little uncomfortable at the staring, she looked for the address she had noted down and went straight to it. Two large gnolls were standing down the street, and it looked like they were drinking. Several small groups were on the streets, and it reminded SJ of film scenes of the streets in some cities. People stood or sat outside calling and shouting to each other. She expected to see a car suddenly drive down the road and a shooting start.
Knocking on the door, she waited a few moments before the door was pulled open by a very old, shabbily dressed, and emaciated-looking dwarf. All dwarves she had seen were what she would describe as typical dwarf, large barrel-chested, strong arms and chests. This dwarf was anything but.
“Can I help you?” he said, coughing.
“Hi. I just want to check that your deliveries have been getting to you ok.”
“Deliveries?”
“From the foodbank,” SJ said quietly, not wishing to be overheard by anyone nearby.
“I get something once a fortnight. It’s not much, but better than nothing, and since I can’t work anymore, it helps.”
“Once a fortnight? Is that all?” SJ said, a little surprised.
The dwarf coughed again, covering his mouth. “Sorry. This damn illness.”
“What do you suffer with, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“LitRPG”
“What is that?”
“Lithium Respiratory Poisoning Gasteyli”
“That sounds serious.”
“It is incurable. Once you catch the bug, you can’t get rid of it. I worked in the Mithril mines of Horhtuji for years, and no one knew that there was a Lithium vein until years after we had been mining there.”
“You poor thing.”
“I am lucky compared to many who worked there. Several have lost their lives since. I moved away and came here initially as my sister lived here, but I have been by myself since she passed away.”
“You have no family?”
“No. I have always been chasing the mithril dream. Mining was everything to me, and now I am too old and frail to do anything beneficial for the town.”
SJ felt sorry for the old dwarf, her heartstrings being pulled by his tale.
“LitRPG is one of only a few incurable illnesses on Amathera,” Dave said.
SJ knew he was listed as getting deliveries three times per week, yet he had said he only received fortnightly supplies. Each transaction had been recorded in the journals, and this was where things didn’t add up. The expenditure for the food that was being purchased did not match what was listed. Everything seemed to have been overpriced. She had spent the morning walking around the market traders and checking the food prices and knew that all these coppers would soon add up. At least fifty individuals or families received support through the church.
“Can I help you with anything while I am here?” SJ asked.
“No. I have what I need: a bed, a roof over my head, and food when it comes.”
“Thanks for your time then,” SJ said, smiling at the old dwarf.
“It was nice to get a visit, especially by such a pretty face.” He replied, smiling back before another bout of coughing hit him.
Walking away, SJ whispered to Dave. “I think I know what they have been doing. I need to check with another few families before I can confirm.”
“It sounds like you have a plan.”
“I am not sure what to do about it yet, but if I can get enough evidence, I should be able to challenge those I believe are responsible.”
“You think it’s the elf or dwarf?”
“I think both. I don’t think that one could be doing it without the other. One shows the food banks’ income, and the other shows the outgoings. If I have reviewed the logs properly, they are skimming a significant amount of funds weekly. They have also run food drives, which seem to have not been directed to those who need it.”
“You enjoy this sort of work, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
She spent the rest of the afternoon visiting other families and individuals listed in the ledgers. Two of which she was alarmed to find out no longer even lived in the town, finding others in their properties. Everyone she had visited had told her the same: they received fortnightly deliveries, although everyone had several weekly deliveries listed. It was soon adding up by looking at the differences in funding to outlay and then considering what was being taken in total.
There were 124 people named across all the entries, considering family members. One family made up a significant number of the list. That was Little Stuart’s. Seeing his family listed, she had called in to visit, finding the small three-room property overrun with ratkin. She wondered how they managed to survive and now understood how hard it must be for Little Stuart and why his bellpop capturing was so important.
SJ returned to the inn and ordered food, immediately feeling guilty when it arrived and was placed in front of her. It tasted divine, like her other meals, but she only picked at it half-heartedly. Unable to finish the food, she grabbed a coffee and headed back upstairs.
Dave reminded her to do her exercises, and she sat on the sofa, completing her fourth set for the day. The burning started to lessen each time she did, and she could feel small improvements in her wing movements.
After running herself a bath and climbing in, she started to make mental calculations about the potential money being siphoned from the church.
‘One hundred twenty-four people miss five deliveries a fortnight, say on average of 5 coppers per meal, which equates to 3,100 coppers. Then, over two years, multiplying by a further 52 for the fortnightly consideration, it comes to 161,200 coppers, which translates to 16 gold and 12 silver. If the church said it was 12 gold short in funding, this 16 gold would easily cover the shortfall.’
The difference was in the way the transactions were recorded for overpriced goods. She had seen a similar practice back on Earth, where people buy cheap and sell high or buy high and sell cheap, depending on the fund movement between parties.
She knew she had gathered enough evidence, but what to do with it?
