Why are you special?

Bartholomew is the first to recover, "I haven't heard those names in a long time… OK, yes, you've proven your credentials. It's your show, clearly, mademoiselle…?"

I smile, "You can call me Sunflower; I am the current champion of The Blessed Mother… but not your grandmother. Her father put her on a leave of absence, and another is filling in while she's not working.  As her grandchildren, I felt I should probably let you know."

The seemingly youngest, Chris, speaks up, "And who's filling in?"

Ah, the joys of having everyone start off Friendly or better… few doubt, but is this mind control? "She inherited all of your grandmother's titles, didn't have any prior, and I literally can't tell you a deity's real name. What would you have me say?"  When did I start thinking of myself as female? Huh.

The current nominal ruler, Amber, steps in with a sigh, "Right. And with Fredrick no longer being her champion, he's going to be useless, even if he's still alive. Of course."

Well… what's left of Fred has nearly as much defense and hits almost as often. Quite viable for most tasks, and much more pleasant to be around, "Yes, well… that leads nicely into the other thing. Your grandmother had been using Fredrick to shield this city from some of the other deities that were upset about the smoke, run-off, and strip mining… and the one filling in isn't inclined to do the same. Obviously arguing with deities isn't going to work, so I'm hoping we can clean the place up peacefully before one of them does something rash.  And of course, there’s your dungeon."

All three cringe, and the physician speaks, "Yeah… we'd been having Fred clean it out every few days, which he never liked. If he's worthless… ugh. It'll have to go but…" he shudders.

Amber picks up, "... but that means turning off the magic everyone eats. Which means food riots and famine, basically overnight."

"Correct," I confirm, "I don't exactly consider that acceptable either. Which means we need to get actual trade restarted, so merchants can bring in real food.  Which means stopping that 100% contraband habit.  How in the Abyss did that start, anyway?"

They look at each other, and after a few moments of silence, the heir apparent speaks up, "Well.. we take all the trade. So we defended our monopoly by encouraging a rather hostile stance towards other merchants."

Amber continues, "But folks weren't exactly happy about the strong arm stance, and the other houses started doing the same to our merchants…"

And now the doctor's turn, "So we started having our folks go through under a false guild flag…"

And I can put it together from there, "So then everyone started confiscation of ALL merchants' goods. And the damage was done: Nobody would come. How long ago was this?"

Chris shrugs, "I'd have to look it up… that aspect is relatively recent."

I consider a moment, "What’s relatively recent for someone who's coming up on three millennia of age?"

Amber is taken back by that, and starts to draw a breath, but Bartholomew stops her, "She doesn't mean any harm, and is trying to help untangle the problems we're facing without getting anyone killed. Let it go."

Chris, meanwhile, actually answers, "Anything within the last few centuries.  It's part of why we all keep journals: There's too much to remember."

Great. And… I should probably start doing that myself… "Right. And the strip mining?"

Amber takes a breath as she visibly calms herself, "That wasn't us. The Smiths started it, I think, then the Westhamptons copied them."

Bartholomew shakes his head, "Other way around, not that it matters. Westhamptons got the idea due to a large order of iron, Smiths copied them to get coal fast enough for the Artesians to do their thing. And then of course there was little reason to stop…."

The heir apparent nods, "And we weren't exactly in a good place to stop it at the time, much as we wanted to.  Yeah, there were riots from the nearest Druid enclave, but Fredrick put those down, very violently."

I can guess as to why… "Might you have gotten caught in the fighting if he hadn't?"

The Lady Thatcher nods slowly, "It was a very real threat at the time…."

I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding, "That would be why, then. Seems your grandmother was very keen on keeping you safe."

The doctor sighs, "And far too ruthless about how she went about it. Which… also… means…" he goes white.

I rub my temples, "Let me guess: You have enemies that were largely held off by the threat Fredrick posed."

Amber and Chris join in the pale brigade, and they both speak at once, "Yes."

I wonder what would possibly pose such a scary threat to these three? They're all high level spellcasters. "Right… well, I can't fix everything for you, and this place is such a tangled knot I may be stuck with arranging an expedited evacuation to keep the general populace alive. I might suggest starting suitable peace negotiations before whoever it is figures out Fredrick's finished… but that might be a bit, as I have it on good authority that divinations into the matter are confusing at best."

Amber considers, "Do you know what happened?"

I smile bitterly, partly because I know his side of the story better than my own if I want, "Your grandmother had been controlling him with threats and deception for a very long time, and getting him to act in ways that made everyone hate him. And he came to expect betrayal, to the point where he simply engaged in it himself preemptively as a matter of course.  I shined the light of truth on his situation with your grandmother, and he broke ranks with her. He was accustomed to being invulnerable and betrayed, and he turned on me shortly after he broke up with his patron. I defended myself, and… well, there's always more details, but suffice it to say: I'm here and he's not.  And it would take extreme effort to bring him back."

Bartholomew nods, "Good riddance. He was a monster that needed to be put down long ago."

Chris steps in, "Yes, but a USEFUL monster. We'll likely need to deal with our foes the OTHER way."

My ears perk up at that, and I press with the Diplomacy skill, "Oh? Do tell. It would be good to know what pieces are on the table when planning how to get everybody out of this mess."

Amber seems hesitant, but Bartholomew barges on in with the answer, "Well, you already know we're quarter deities… but dad had a diabolic contract, too. Between the two…"

Chris sighs, "... we can access our own 'ambrosia'" Interestingly, I'm getting that translation from my Divine side, not Tongues, "and use it to do things that simply aren't possible any other way."

I smile knowingly - I'm glad I set Wanda digging, "But not often. You'll go years between uses."

Again, this makes them nervous, and Bartholomew answers, "Yes… that's right. We can do nearly anything… once.  Then we're out for a while and need to rest up.  It's not pleasant."

So each one gets a higher end Wish… "How bad is it?"

The doctor takes this one, "Depends on how much we use, but… bed rest for a week, avoid anything emotionally strenuous for a month."

"Definitely emergency use only, then." Still quite tangled… "One thing I didn't find while seeking information: What’s the limit?"

The Lady Thatcher takes this one, "It varies, and depends on how long it has been since the last time. I built this…" she opens her hand and sweeps it around the room, "After a decade of 'rest' that way.  Magic traps and all."

The heir apparent picks up, "And the several thousand food making items feeding this city were done similarly. That was… about three decades?"

And the physician smiles, "And I haven't used mine yet this life."

So a capital 'W' Wish, basically. Nice. Not sure how to spend them, though, "That's good… why do you keep dying?"

All three of them laugh, and Amber answers, "Because if we were obviously straight up immortal, people would want to steal the secret. This way? We grow old, everyone sees, we introduce the next ruler in turn as our 'child back from time with tutors', we look a little different but close enough to be family, and everyone thinks it's just business as usual."

I nod, I'll need to figure out something similar if I want to settle down in one place… "And who's the spouse?"

Bartholomew sheepishly chuckles, "Me, in a dress or suit as appropriate, plus makeup and an Infuse Self spell. Nice big public ceremony, I can keep that particular spell up for hours, and we set it up a good thirty years before we're scheduled to kick it.  As the physician, of course, I get a lot less attention, and can simply be hired after the old me dies."

OK. I'll need to process this… but I have what I came for, "Thank you. So… I'm thinking of claiming a noble title myself… I figure having my own gate might lure some trade in, which will be strictly needed once the dungeon is killed, at least until the next is ready… and we'll need to remove the dependence on magic food creation if we don't want it to simply happen again."

The three chuckle, and Bartholomew says it best, "You have the blessing of The Blessed Mother. You have our support."

I smile, say my thanks, and take my leave, picking up Alfred on the way out.

Not quite how I expected that to go….