"The previous Noushead is finished," an NPC named Palora's Apprentice said, not looking up from a book. "You may enter the magister's chamber." Next to him was a city guard with a stern expression on his face.

  The magister's chambers served as the entry point to the Captain's Interrogation Room where the English speaking zombie was being held, and it was not at all what Mindt expected.

  It wasn't his permanent chambers, it seemed. Just a large empty room with a few chairs. In one of the ornate chairs sat Magister Palora, a dignified-yet-disheveled figure in a pristine magister's robe, and nothing else but a diaper. Pale thin legs jutted from his diaper.

  His long silver hair stuck out in wild tufts. His beard was neatly trimmed into a point, contrasting with his wild hair. He looked withered and frail, like he might keel over at any moment, but his bright blue eyes twinkled with both wisdom and mild dementia. To his right rested a cane made of polished white wood. To his left, a door to the Captain's Interrogation Room.

  Speaking to him was a lone human male Noushead who seemingly did not have anyone else in his party.

  The magister adjusted his diaper with a distinguished pride and said, "Ohohoho. No more guesses. Now you must leave."

  The Noushead erupted in fury. "You fucking," he started to say before changing his mind. "How about this, you cow obsessed old cunt. You guess MY four digit number and if—."

  "Three," said the magister quickly. "My favorite."

  "Three?!" the Noushead stammered. "I'm going to shove three cows up your diaper covered ass!"

  "Oohooo," the magister giggled. "Then I change my guess to 9999. That might just clear up my overworking bowels."

  Dumbfounded, the Noushead stuttered, "You! You!" As if that would teach the old man a thing or two.

  Then, the Noushead deflated, all the energy gone out, and he sagged his head. He turned around to find Mindt and Retro waiting in the room, and without another word, the Noushead sulked out.

  The magister, seeming to notice Mindt and Retro for the first time, said in a wobbly voice, "Listen here, whippersnappers! Back in my day, we didn't have fancy lockpicks or skeleton keys - NO SIREE! We had to guess numbers like REAL adventurers!" He grabbed his cane and thrust it down his diaper, giving himself a good scratch.

  He continued, "You stand before this magical door. See?" He wiggled his fingers dramatically at the locked door next to him. "Magical. It's even got glowing numbers. Four of 'em. They say there's an actual key to the door, but between you and me —" He leaned in dangerously close to Retro's face, then to Mindt's, breath smelling like prunes. "The key was eaten by a cow! BAHAHA!" He wheezed as he leaned back in his chair.

  "Oh, one moment. Time for my medication." He pulled a banana out of his diaper and took a bite directly from the middle of it without peeling it. The fruit of the banana oozed through the broken peel. "Now where was I," he said chewing the peel in a loud smacking noise. "Ah yes. You youngsters have it easy with your fancy quest logs and minimaps. In MY day, we had to walk uphill BOTH WAYS just to find this magical door. And by George, the dial-up speeds back then made loading times a true test in patience." He spit out the banana on the ground. "Now, who's ready to play Cows and Bulls?"

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  Mindt: Uhh, Aida. Any advice to get by this lunatic?

  Aida: You know I can't give advice on how to complete quests. The only advice I can give is to look for the clues.

  Clues, Mindt thought. The old man mentioned a cow eating the key to the door. If they could find that cow somehow.

  She decided to examine the magister to search for any further clues.

  Wiki: Magister Palora. Level 50.

  Magister Bumbershoot Palora didn't start out wearing diapers - that came after an unfortunate incident involving a time-loop spell and his own bowel (he still insists he was "revolutionizing bathroom break efficiency").

  Once the youngest professor at the Equinox Arcane University, he gained fame for his brilliant work on mathematical riddles that could be used to strengthen magical barriers. Although his genius propelled his reputation, it left him lonely and without an equal, as such is the curse of all geniuses. His descent into eccentric behavior accelerated after an experiment with memory enhancement went sideways, leaving him with perfect recall of numbers but a complete inability to remember where he put his pants.

  Some say he's actually perfectly sane and just enjoys messing with people.

  Where to begin, Mindt thought.

  Mindt: We need to be careful with this and look for the clues. We know that a cow ate the key. We know he's a genius, but alone. He's wearing a diaper for some reason.

  Without answering her, Retro produced a pouch from his inventory. He popped a date in his mouth.

  "Date?" Retro asked, holding the pouch out to the old man. "Good for digestion."

  "Ohohoho," magister Palora said as he reached for a date.

  Retro: He seems to like fruits. Let's just treat him like a person and not a quest.

  His eyes bulged with childlike wonder, cheeks puffing out like a gleeful hamster. Mindt recalled that Retro made that same face earlier. Two of a kind. The old man's face scrunched up into a thousand happy wrinkles, each one telling its own story of pure ecstasy.

  "Ohoho, this reminds me of —" He froze mid sentence, eyes opening even wider. A distant thunder rumbled, and his diaper expanded like a pastry rising in an oven. A foul smell immediately suffocated the room. "I believe we've just applied a scientific theorem about pressure and volume displacement."

  Mindt: Did he just shit himself?

  Retro: I believe he did.

  She began to gag at the smell and her eyes watered. She wanted to run from the room. She never wanted anything more.

  The old man just sat there in his own filth. "I'm too old to handle this predicament myself. Fetch my apprentice. Then we play Cows and Bulls."

  Mindt started for the door, but Retro grabbed her arm. "Don't get the apprentice, but you can wait by the door."

  "What are you doing?" she asked.

  Retro: Bulgaria is a poor country. As such, many people can't afford luxuries like high powered cleaner drones, and the UBR issued drones can't physically lift the elderly. So, we take care of our elders. In my family, my son and my daughter witness me treat their grandparents with the highest respect. And I hope that one day they will show me that same respect when I'm old and frail. We may be a poor country, but we are rich in values.

  Mindt: What are you getting at? You're going to change his diaper?

  Retro: I've changed thousands of diapers before, for both the young and the old. What's a little shit compared to someone's dignity?

  Retro turned to the old man, "No need for the apprentice. I can help you. Do you have a spare in your inventory?"

  Magister Palora became unusually quiet, his thus far maniacal energy fading into something vulnerable. His wild eyes softened, and the mask of madness slipped.

  "Oh…" he said, voice slightly cracking. "You'd… You'd do that?"

  "It's nothing," Retro said. "True genius, my friend, isn't found in what we can do alone, but in accepting help when we need it. Let's get you cleaned up."

  Mindt waited by the door for 10 minutes while Retro cleaned the frail magister up. She would have never even considered doing such a thing, not even with her own mother. Her father, who had been her favorite parent, had long since died, but even with him she had a difficult time imagining herself wiping his shit-covered ass.

  Compared to Retro's close-knit family, hers felt like more like acquaintances. She was speechless with Retro's actions. He spoke of a wealth that no currency can measure, passed down not through inheritance, but through actions witnessed and lessons lived.

  A tear unexpectedly rolled down her cheek. What a beautiful world, she thought.

  Through the door, the magister said, "Don't forget to powder the scrotum. Sometimes I get a rash."