Content Warning!
[Previous]
[Next]
Chapter 11 fork: Bookfinders' Boon
Vector says, “I’ll be talking to Sir Briansworth, you guys won’t really need-”
“But we’ll have to hear his dumb voice,” Pannych interrupts him. “I would honestly rather walk all the way back to Noob Town.”
Vector makes a sour face and says, “Fine. Can we do it tomorrow, though?”
“For sure,” Phyr says, “I am not feeling a whole other day’s walking just to get back where we started.”
“Let’s try to find an inn that doesn’t hate us,” says Pannych. “Or at least is civil to us.”
They amble through the streets, eating the last of their packed food and keeping an eye out for likely-looking establishments. Phyr says, “How about the Tilted Tankard?” As if on cue, a crash sounds from within, followed by the sounds of fighting.
“Too rowdy,” Vector says. They keep walking. Some minutes later, Vector suggests, “What about Fools Rush Inn? Looks a damn sight nicer.”
“Too pricey,” Pannych says. “Plus, I’m getting a real hard ‘mafia’ vibe from them.” They keep walking. As dusk is settling in over the city, Pannych stops and points, asking, “How about the Pangol Inn?” The hanging wooden sign out front shows a pangolin curled up into a ball.
“Looks just right to me,” Vector says. Phyr gives a casual shrug, and the three of them head in.
Inside, warm light and legato music overlay a low murmur of chatter, punctuated by the occasional clink of tableware. Stewed meat and vegetables drift to them over the air, with the scent and sound of a roaring fire underneath it all. A host, dressed in soft earth tones, greets them at the door with a nod and a smile - a welcome contrast to the reserved hostility they got on the streets. “Evening, my man,” Phyr says affably. “How much for a room?”
“Three beds,” he asks. Phyr nods. “Seventy-five dollars. Please pay at check-in, and he’ll give you your key and directions.” The host directs them with an open hand, then turns back to the door.
The adventurers pay, head up to their room, and sack out almost immediately.
They wake at dawn. Vector springs for breakfast at the inn, and Pannych and Phyr split the cost of fresh fruit and sandwiches for lunch, reasoning that they’ll be back at the Loaded Die for dinner. After checking out, they hit the road.
The morning market crowds are a bit perky for this hour, at least in the adventurers’ estimation. But some of yesterday’s open distrust seems to have abated, replaced by polite indifference. “My legs are so sore,” Vector says in a moment of relative isolation.
“Mine are, too,” Phyr says. “But don’t worry, we’ll work out the kinks as we walk, you’ll be fine soon enough.”
The guards open the gates to let them out of the city, and then the adventurers are on the road proper. They come to Vincent’s property before they know it. “Hey,” Phyr says, “Doesn’t it seem like it was shorter getting back here than getting to Leetsburg yesterday?”
“That’s because we’ve done it before,” Pannych says. “Everything seems longer the first time.”
Phyr snorts back a laugh and says, “That’s the Out-of-Context Quote of the Day.” Pannych giggles and Vector chuckles.
The afternoon Sun is still high in the sky by the time they reach Tom’s cabin. They break for a late lunch, and then continue on their way.
Back at the Loaded Die, a hostess in sharp dress greets them politely. “Welcome to the Loaded Die! We’re a bit under-staffed, so please bear with us, but I assure you we are open for business!”
“That’s them, Charlotte,” Alice says, walking over to the adventurers in a blue dress of simple cut but fine make. “Surprised to see you kids. What’s up?” A housekeeper walks a basket of sheets from the back room to the stairs behind her.
“We hit a snag,” Phyr says. “Apparently, destined heroes are on the no-fly list.”
“No-fly?”
“Figure of speech,” Phyr says, rolling his eyes. “Honestly, Pannych, I’m surprised you didn’t make a TSA joke.”
“What’s the TSA?”
Phyr looks at her mutely for a second, then says, “Right, when do you think it is?”
“Summer 2001, school just got out, that’s why we have the time to do all this. Why?”
Vector lets out a heavy sigh as Phyr shakes his head and says, “Nevermind. Look, nobody will let us on their boats, so we need to find some alternative transportation.”
Alice taps her chin in thought for a moment, then says, “OK, why don’t you head over to the Magic Guild? I told them it was you who killed Stewart and recovered their books when I returned them, so they owe you one.” She gives them directions and then ushers them out the door, saying, “Now skedaddle, I gotta get back to work.”
The trio follow Alice’s directions to the guildhouse, still in the Tudor style of the rest of the town, but standing out due to its sheer scale. A flagstone path leads up the middle of an expansive grounds, flanked on both sides by wings of the manor. Aside from the path itself, and a tastefully understated fountain halfway along it, the grounds are almost entirely occupied by a sprawling garden. As the adventurers traverse the flagstones, they see groundskeepers to either side, tending to various plants, collecting samples, and clearing the narrow dirt footpaths winding throughout.
“Fancy digs,” Vector says in awe as they approach the entrance. Phyr bangs the knocker - a simple brass ring, worn heavily at the bottom - against the door. Presently, a middle-aged woman opens the door to them and beckons them inside. The foyer is grand, but not opulent, and a muted din of activity can be heard from inside.
“Welcome to the Noob Town Magic Guild,” she says. “I am Felina, one of the stewards. To what do we owe this visit?”
“Good afternoon,” Pannych says. “I’m Pannych-”
Felina cuts her off with an upraised hand and a lowered glance, then says, “We know who you are, and your assistance in recovering our missing books and dispatching the rogue mage has indebted us to you. Please, please, what can we do for you?” The adventurers each gain five experience points for concluding their return of the books.
“We need to get to Salinas,” Phyr says, “But nobody will sail us there. Alice says you might be able to help with that?”
“Yes, of course,” Felina says brightly. “I’ll have a page take you where you need to go.” She gently lays a hand over one of many small polished gems set into a varnished wood panel, and says, “Anthony? Please come to the foyer.” A young, chipper voice responds in the affirmative, and soon a child of about twelve appears from inside. As he opens the door, a cacophony of sound spills out behind him, and is quieted once again when he shuts it. Felina says, “Please take Lady Pannych, Lord Phyr, and Master Vector to see Mistress Glinda, would you?” Anthony nods eagerly and beckons them to follow.
Inside, the noise resumes at full volume. There is a heated argument from one direction, a loud lecture from another, and the chaos of neophyte spellcasting resounds from all over. As Anthony leads the trio up a grand staircase, he says, “We’ve heard all about you. Is it true? Did the three of you really kill five noobs in an afternoon?”
Pannych says, “That was a mistake. But it was just Phyr and me, we hadn’t met up with Vector yet.”
“Wow! You guys really are tough! It takes our noob hunters sometimes a day or more just to find one by hisself, an’ at least eight of us to take it out safely! Did you also really fight Grayl an’ drive him off?”
Vector chuckles and says, “Kid, I ran with Grayl until these two came along.”
“Whoa, really?” Anthony, wide-eyed, stops in his tracks at the second floor landing. Vector raises an eyebrow as he flutters his Cloak of Darkness with one hand, and Anthony’s eyes go even wider as his jaw drops. He shakes off the awe, and resumes his climb. As they gain the third floor and he leads the adventurers down a hall, he asks, “Did you also really kill fifty goblins after they ambushed you in Fort Roguelike?”
“Yeah,” Phyr says, “That one’s all true. We walked right into a trap, but came out on top.”
“Wow,” Anthony says, “And now you’re making peace with the noobs and making the whole island rich?”
“Rich is a relative term,” Pannych says. Anthony looks at him in confusion. “Look, only a small amount of people can be ‘rich,’ because rich means you have more money than most people. If most people have lots of money, then you have to have even more than that to be rich. But nobody’s gonna starve or go homeless any more, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I think if everyone has a house and food, then that’s rich enough,” Anthony says. “I never had any parents, I grew up stealin’ an’ dumpster divin’. Then Master Hackard caught me tryna take his wallet one day, but instead of turnin’ me into the cops, he brought me here ‘cuz I had a high magical attitude.”
Phyr and Vector regard the child with pity, but Pannych smiles and says, “I think he might have said, ‘aptitude,’ but I bet he liked your attitude as well. You seem like a good kid.” Anthony beams up at her as they walk.
“Well, this is Mistress Glinda’s office,” Anthony says, stopping at a door with a nameplate that reads GLINDA SHINAULT, HEAD OF SPACETIME MAGICS, CO-CHAIR OF INFORMATION STUDIES. He knocks on the door, and a friendly voice directs him to enter. He holds the door open for them to reveal an elderly black woman, with white dreadlocks tied back in a loose tail, wearing an elegant blue robe of office with gold embroidery.
Phyr and Vector enter, but Pannych takes a ten dollar bill out of her wallet and hands it to Anthony, taking a knee in front of him. “Oh, we’re not supposed to take tips,” he says.
“This isn’t a tip,” Pannych says. “It’s a gift. Thanks for talking with us while we walked.”
Anthony eyes her skeptically, but eventually decides she’s trustworthy for some reason, and returns her smile as he pockets the bill. She gives him a firm handshake, then claps him on the shoulder before he scampers off down the hall.
“You shouldn’t tip the pages,” Glinda says as Pannych joins them. “We provide room, board, and a generous stipend to them.”
Pannych rolls her eyes and says, “It wasn’t a tip, it was a gift. Sounds like he’s had a rough go of it. Wait, how generous is this stipend?”
Glinda regards her coolly for a moment, then says, “I’ll look the other way this time, in consideration of… the circumstances. What can the Noob Town Magic Guild do for you three?” Pannych sneers at the redirection, but then decides to ignore it.
“We need to get to Hope’s End,” Phyr says. “We’re heading there by way of Salinas.”
Glinda nods and says, “Yes, Salinas is the closest we could get you to Hope’s End. We could teleport you to their Magic Guild. As you took Stewart out of action and recovered the books he had stolen, we could do it as a favor and would not charge a fee - but after that, we would consider it even. Is that all agreeable to you?”
The adventurers look at each other briefly with approving glances, and Phyr then says, “Yeah, sounds good.”
“Very well,” Glinda says, rising from her desk. “Please, follow me.” She leads them back down the grand staircase and out back of the manor, where there is an array of glowing crystals resting on pedestals surrounding a polished marble platform. Nearby, a short elf in a technician’s jumpsuit leans back in a swivel chair with his feet propped up on a console. A dozen guards are stationed around the courtyard, and half as many mages are at various stations under an awning encircling the perimeter, engaged in various tasks. “Gerald,” Glinda says to the technician with some impatience - he snaps alert and sits upright in his chair, turning to face her. “Our guests are traveling to Salinas. Ready the teleporter.”
“Yes, Mistress Glinda, right away.” As Glinda leads them to the center platform, Gerald manipulates the console and occasionally speaks inaudibly, presumably communicating with the guild in Salinas. The pedestal crystals start to glow and float, and soon Gerald says, “All set, Mistress Glinda.” She steps away from the platform and nods to Gerald, who pushes one final button.
There is a blinding flash and a thunderous hum, both dissipating as soon as they’ve registered, and then the adventurers are standing on an identical marble pedestal surrounded by pale brown mudbrick buildings standing upon dusty earth. The air temperature has easily risen 25 degrees Fahrenheit, and they feel like they’ve stepped into a sauna not recently used: hot, dry air blows back and forth with a moist, cool breeze, and the sounds of the ocean can be heard in the distance. Plots of multicolored pea gravel decorate the courtyard, and a thin man with tan skin and a robe just like Glinda’s approaches them.
“Welcome to Salinas,” he says, drawing back his hood to reveal sandy blond hair. “My name is Clint, head of spacetime magics at this chapterhouse.” He extends a hand to them.
“Good afternoon,” Pannych says, taking his hand and shaking heartily. “I am Pannych, lesser goddess of fear and anxiety.”
“And I am Phyr, lord of destruction and chaos, whose wrath makes the very heavens tremble with reverence to my otherworldly might.” He shakes hands with Clint firmly.
“I am Vector, a humble mortal who travels with these demigods as their ambassador and facilitator.” They also shake, and the adventurers each get 10 XP for arriving in Salinas.
To CONTINUE READING, click here.
[Next]
No comments:
Post a Comment