My operation to build a reputation and reap rewards has been... underwhelming, a word I find myself using more and more frequently. People of the town accepted me much better than I had anticipated, sure, but the jobs and rewards simply suck. All my efforts these last two weeks have amounted to what - for me - is mere pocket change. A Dark Age peasant would surely consider it a small fortune, but I'm not looking to start a career as turnip farmer here.

I'm thinking of accepting only important quests with big rewards - the c-word I'm looking for is capitalism, not charity. However, this is a fairly remote town, so I may not get anything good no matter how much effort I put into this here. It's starting to look like only wizards and the richest of muggles have the magical items I value.

My musings are soon going to become null and void though, the following events are making sure of that... While the sort of friendly neighborhood succubus of I-still-can't-the-remember-name town isn't a rumour of international scale, it managed to attract attention of certain group with either some luck or a surprisingly competent spy network.

This happens one afternoon when I'm eating a supposed local delicacy. It's just a sausage with large amount of creamy filling, but for some reason men of the town are really happy to give me those. What's with that? Anyway, I had stopped bothering to hide my wings since everyone knows I'm a demon, and am currently nonchalantly stuffing the meaty snack in my mouth when a grim posse surrounds me.

I turn around with mouth full of a sausage.

"Whah ih id?"

Bite. Gulp. Let's redo. For some reason some of them blush. Just what is it? I'm just eating here.

"What is it?"

The lynch group is a bit taken aback by me. Being from Conferedation of Druidic Clans, the idea of a demon casually spending time in the middle of town is inconceivable to them. I know they are from the Conferedation, since three of the six people group carry sickles, the signature weapon of druids.

Besides the three druidy druids, the rest of this weird company seem like specialists. One of them is a reasonably heavily built man with fur clothes and a heartplate armor. The most eye-catching part of him however is all the axes hanging from straps all over him - that gives a whole new meaning to term 'ax-crazy'. Another one of them is a woman with unhealthy complexion and a slightly disturbing smirk. Besides the raggedy layered dress she wears, she has long, heavy leather gloves and a pair of wicker baskets. Whatever it is she does probably involves tossing the contents of those at me.

The last of them is an old man who looks like he should be escorting a group of dwarves to the Lonely Mountain instead of bothering a succubus minding her business here. The grey-robed geezer points his staff at me and starts ranting.

"Foul demoness Ais! For your many crimes against clan of Abernach you will pay the ultimate price!"

Just how dogmatic is your religion if you actually think you can punish a demon? Besides, that was really rude. I'm not foul at all and I never set a foot in that town by choice, and both times I was attacked and just defended myself. And this isn't the Conferedation, so what are you, the world police? I'm beginning to dislike that place more and more.

I toss away the sausage wrapper. I suppose it was nice of them to declare their intent instead of attacking without warning at least. Maybe this kind of formality that is extended even to demons is important for people of Druidic Clans? Not that I'm be that delighted about a bare minimum amount of civility coming from people obviously out to kill me.

"I'm all out of ultimate prices, but you can have this slightly bent silver fork if you must."

I toss the said fork at him. I might have 'accidentally' put bit too much oomph on the throw, and the utensil sticks sinks into the top of the geezer's - I kid you not - wide-brimmed wizardy hat.

"Now then, kindly take a hike."

The grey wizard - or is he a druid without a sickle? - gets over his wordless outrage and stomps his staff on the ground furiously.

"Do not mock us, succubus! We will have justice!"

"But what is justice but revenge sanctioned by the system. Would that mean there can't be justice against someone outside the system? Justice just is justice if all parties accept the justice as justice."

Oops, my thoughts leaked out. They all look confused, with the axeman counting his fingers for some reason.

"Don't let the temptress' words distract you! Everyone, attack! May ancestors guide our hands!"

Wannabe-Gandalf loses his patience and the battle is about to begin. But while they had been posturing, townspeople gathered to see what's going on. And since I have become something of a town mascot, they aren't too happy to see foreigners bothering me.

"Boooo!"

"Go home, filthy barbarians!"

"That's OUR succubus! Leave her be!"

Whoa. They are actually defending me by shouting from safe distance away. What is this warm fuzzy feeling? Anyway, there is only one thing I can say in this situation.

"You have no power here!"

Hahahahaah. Take that, Fakedalf.

The townspeople had interrupted their flow, but they make the motions to begin battle regardless. At the first sign I leap into air to put some distance from their melee fighters. These people are druids however, so that won't be enough. I try to use charm spell on everyone in the group, but none of them are more than momentarily distracted by it.

All three sickle wielders begin chant in unison. Whatever they are planning, it won't be good. To both the attacker's and my surprise the townspeople start throwing random items at the druids, and their combined spell fizzles out harmlessly. I'm beginning to like this town more and more.

I'll accept all the sausages you give, whatever the weird reasons behind it.