I’ve finally found a way out of Harbour Town. During the rest of my time there, I engaged in numerous dirty deeds, all of which means to the justified end that is fighting the Inquisiton.
I sold off a poor fishmonger’s stall to a gullible drunk, informed the tavern girl about her pirate father and was rewarded with his shack, convinced an Inquisition guard that I can help them find the Don’s secret stash of loot (only to retrieve it for one of the Don’s men), helped a petty criminal out of lock-up, broke up a drug deal and recovered the “product” for the Don, extorted free beer and information out of a shopkeeper, and recovered some artefacts to be smuggled out of the city.
But I’ve also done some good. I helped an overworked craftsman get some much-needed time off and offered to help a poor servant woman track down her missing sons. I also helped a mage — a supporter of the Inquisition — deliver health potions to ailing peasants and refugees.
Guys like that mage keep making me wonder if I’m doing the right thing. On one hand, the Inquisition is slowly destroying the city’s economy with their occupation. On the other, here’s this good guy who actually gives a damn. In the end, it doesn’t matter. I’ve completed enough quests for the Don that my loyalties are public.
The Commandant of the Inquisition — Carlos — invites me to meet with him. I’ve never met him but he sure seems to know me. He expresses his disappointment in my actions and tells me to bugger off.
By the way, I never solved my earlier moral dilemma. It honestly doesn’t bother me; as long as those artefacts (I probably should have cleared this up before, but this is the way the game spells this word: “artefact”) are in the hands of the workers, they aren’t in the hands of the Inquisition.
I also cashed out on a quest to track down one of the Don’s spies who has been fingered by the Inquisition, so one of the Don’s men can “silence” him permanently. Yes, I am a coward, and there are some lines I just can’t bring myself to cross. He’ll remain, hiding in the city, on his own. Whatever happens, happens.
Fortunately, my cowardice doesn’t affect my ultimate goal. I’ve proven myself to the Don’s top man in Harbour Town in other ways and I’m allowed to see him. In the back of the brothel, there’s a painting. When pressed, it opens a secret passage to a hidden warehouse, which has its own secret tunnel leading outside of the city. When I first heard rumors of this tunnel, my head was still filled with romantic ideas about the Don and his “resistance.”
Yes, I knew they were gangsters, but like the Cosa Nostra of antiquity, I just convinced myself that they’re doing what they need to do for the people, because the Inquisition and corrupt nobility refuse to do so. I don’t do harm; it’s all for the greater good; the ends justify the means; there is no right or wrong, only actions and consequences.
But there is no magic “weed only” sign — figuratively speaking — on either side of that tunnel. It’s used to smuggle things and people, good or bad, for whatever it takes to undermine the Inquisition and buff the Don’s coffers. It seems there are only evils in Risen’s world. I just hope I’ve chosen the lesser of the two. In either case, I do harm. I do harm.
I’m finally outside of Harbour Town. It’s time to return to the swamp and report my many successes to the Don. At least I have shoes now.