Ch. 3: Power Equals Corruption

                The cart had pulled up in front of a large, stately town house. Though it was clearly the grandest building in the city, by far, a dark chill seemed to be seeping from underneath the burnished bronze doors of the mansion. Gillian shivered as the iron gates in front of the house swung forward to allow them entrance. The cart trundled inside, the guards keeping vigil on either side of the gate shot dirty looks at all of them. Gillian sighed. He could see it for himself quite clearly, despite the fact that no one else was able to. The dark aura was emanating from these two gentlemen. On each of the twelve alternate planes of reality they had the same appearance of vicious half-eagle, half-man. Eyes glowing red, nostrils on their beaks flaring. They were daemons of the lowest order, but the power that they were emanating was still quite intimidating.
                 It was times like these that Gillian Martin loathed his abilities and his tasks. They were both a blessing and a curse at the same time. As they were rushed into the mansion by these two ghouls, Gillian saw that whoever this Mayor Quolton was, he was either a magician of terrible power, or else a daemon himself who had come to wield the abilities of a sorcerer. Either way it was not good. The sheer opulence of this particular estate sparked memories of many experiences. And Gillian's experiences were enough to tell him that more often then not, powerful individuals, unless prompted by a higher order, were prone to greed, and corruption. It was likely that the current ruler of Evansville, this Mayor Quolton, whoever he was, had followed down this path, and consequently was jeopardizing the majority of the citizens over whom he had power.
                Captain Wrigley and Gillian were soon ushered into a circular, monochromatic golden office; every surface and item shone with either white or yellow gold. Gold leaf glinted upon end tables, chair legs, and counter tops. The curtains framing the large latticed windows as well as cushions, upholstery, and lampshades were all made of cloth of gold. The effect was actually blinding. Even the stationary laying upon the gleaming, white-gold leaf covered desk was sprinkled with gold dust, the feathers of a quil pen were layered with gold. Gillian looked around the room in disgust. So this is where the wealth of the peoples in the lower Burroughs was going...
            "Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in."
            Standing in the doorway of the glittering office was a man dressed to match his opulent surroundings. He wore gracefully tailored gray suit and fedora which were entirely coated in diamonds. The one focal point that drew the eye was the magnificent ruby which served as the gentleman's tie pin.
            "Do you like it Gilly?" the gentleman asked, seeing the incredulous looks that his ensemble had inspired . "Yes, I acquired it quite recently, actually. You see-"
             "The Carmen Lucia Ruby?" spat Gillian, who felt nothing but the purest hatred for the man now standing in front of himself and the captain, smirking. "I had thought that it was on display at the national galleries. So what happened Jeffrey? You left your master to come to this hole in the wall city? You deny your true name. You deny your mandate supplied to you, and then you begin to sap the good people of this city of all that they're worth! And then, if you please, you decide to steal the world's largest ruby?! You make me sick, you miserable piece of dung." This last insult only seemed to amuse Quolton, or Jeffrey, whoever he was. Chuckling slightly, he said,
              "As always Gilly, you're as sharp as a tack." He said with a smile, "But not entirely correct. You see, all this," he gestured to the extravagance that surrounded them, "Is actually part of my mandate. But then, I suppose that your master would never seek to inform you of my mandate, simply because he doesn't know it, or at least not all of it." He paused, walking around the room to wipe a streak of dust off of the shining desk. Turning to face Martin and the Captain once more, his eyes became cold, and his voice cruel. "I suppose that he would never tell you anyway, even if he did know. But how could he? He's a deranged sociopath, who believes himself to be the avatar of Christ, the Messiah! How could a madman like that know anything at all?"
                It was like a gong had been rung inside Gillian's head. Fires blazed on every pore of his skin, rage filling him down to even the most subterranean depths. Glowing steel seeped out of the palm of his hand only to materialize into another one of his deadly missiles, which he proceeded to hurl as hard as he possibly could at the Mayor, who ducked out of the way just in time. The bolt sailed through the air leaving a trail of sparks and fire in its wake, hurtled straight through the window behind the golden desk, causing the cloth-of-gold curtains draping them to burn as fire began to consume them. Before the Jeffrey had a chance to get back on his feet, Gillian was on top of him, pinning him to the ground; a parrying dagger held against his throat. Jeffrey only laughed, or  at least he attempted to. The combined weight of both Gillian and the sheer number of diamonds, plus the ruby at his throat below the dagger, was actually crushing his chest.
                "Do you really mean to kill my, Gilly? Know that, if you do, I will only return stronger, and more powerful! My master will call me back from the other world!" Gillian proceeded to begin beat Jeffrey into a bloody pulp, if only to attempt to stop his blathering about how much his master loved him, but to no avail.
                "Hahaha! I am his most beloved servant! Haha! He revels in my service, he delights in my obedience! I will summon me all the days of his life! He will share his power with me, and then we shall dominate the world together! My master will triumph in all things with me by his side! Do you hear me?! I said, do you hear me!?" Jeffrey just laughed and giggled and continued to prattle on as Gillian, or Gilly, as he was called by the daemon, kept up a constant flow of punches to his face and body; the pommel of his dagger worked quite nicely. Eventually, the mayor fell silent.
                Throughout this whole little ordeal, Captain Gregory Wrigley had backed into a corner, lay down on the ground, rolled up into a ball, and attempted to go to his happy place as the fire from the curtains spread to the rest of the room, consuming it as the battle raged on.