We’ve met Boss Virrad before. He was written as basically a Goblin version of The Godfather, mostly so I would have him utter the words “On this, the day of my daughter’s wedding” a lot.
The joke I’m going for today is that he can’t quite figure out how to turn off his crime boss persona (though, as I recall, I’ve established that he’s the leader of a mercenary company rather than a crime syndicate), even when his intentions are entirely honourable and above-board.
Copyright J.B. Norman
“You come to me,” Boss Virrad says, starting gravely across his desk, “on this, the Friday after the Sunday which was the day of my daughter’s wedding.”
“Uh, yeah,” Kat says, looking down at the old Goblin. “I saw your note on the board at the Guild Authority building.”
“And so you come to me,” Boss Virrad says.
“S-should I go? You don’t sound happy,” Kat nods.
“I apologise, my young friend,” Boss Virrad says. “I’m told I come across as aloof and stern. I am in fact quite my request has come to the notice of one of this city’s young adventurers.”
“Well, yeah. That’s what the notice board is for,” Kat mutters.
“And so it is,” Boss Virrad says, reaching for the bottle on his desk and pouring himself a glass of something.
“The notice said something about a shipment?” Kat asks.
“Ah, yes. My shipment of certain antiquities, scheduled to arrive in the harbour next Sunday, the week after my daughter’s wedding,” Boss Virrad says. “Which were acquired by me at great expense and effort through means that were entirely legitimate and legal?”
“Now,” Kat offers cautiously. “When you say entirely legitimate and legal, do you actually mean that? Or is this one of those things where I’m suppose to clue in that you mean the opposite of what you’re saying so if you get, like, arrested, you can say that we never talked about anything illegal?”
Boss Virrad blinks in surprise.
“I have documentation from all the relevant authorities that this delivery and all associated transactions were conducted with the utmost care and diligence on behalf of the Civic Museum of Porthaven,” Boss Virrad says. “Anyone who would suggest otherwise is slandering me.”
Kat stares at him.
The old Goblin frowns.
“It seems I am doing it again,” he mutters, taking a deep drink from his glass.
He sets down his glass.
“Now, while my intentions in this affair are intended only to benefit our Civic Museum, I do have certain competing, shall we say… business rivals who are quite interested in obtaining these certain antiquities for themselves,” Boss Virrad continues.
“Let me guess,” Kat says. “You need me to make sure all that stuff gets to the museum safely?”
“That would be the crux of matter at hand, yes,” Boss Virrad says and Kat has no reason to doubt his sincerity this time.
“Right, I can do that,” Kat says.
“Very good,” Boss Virrad says. “You shall have the assistance of the finest and most capable of my men: Face-Puncher Pete, Jimmy the Person-Stomper, Eye-Poker Phil.”
“No offence,” Kat says, “but if you didn’t want people to keep thinking you guys are evil, maybe you shouldn’t go around calling yourselves things like Eye-Poker Phil.”
“The very thought has occurred to me,” the old Goblin says. “But, alas, Phil he is, you see, quite find of poking eyeballs.”
“Uh huh…”
“Also,” Boss Virrad says. “Please inform your sister and her young friends that I would be very much interested in purchasing another shipment of cookies. On this, the Friday after the Sunday which was the day of my daughter’s wedding.”
Somewhere far away in Pelayo, even on her honeymoon, Boss Virrad’s daughter feels a sudden urge to scream.
All in all, Boss Virrad sort of ended up as the reverse Gingham Gregory Rackman-Kowalski, in that he’s a non-villain (at least today) who can’t stop coming across as obviously evil despite his best efforts.
Granted, since he’s inspired by the most famous fictional mafioso of all time, I’m still uncertain of how he’d fit into an actual story. But, again, I think because he’s technically a mercenary captain than a gangster, I have a bit of leeway.
I think I’ve mentioned before that the Realmgard calendar has different month names (at least theoretically; I don’t think I’ve ever had anybody use them yet), but keeps the days of the week the same, partly so the words still make sense to my readers (I don’t have to explain what “Friday is”) and partly because most fantasy day-names I’ve encountered aren’t great.
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