It took SJ nearly two hours to catch the ten bellpops and get them into the jar. By the time she had finished, she felt exhausted. Thankfully, her dress was self-repairing, as she had caught it on more than one occasion, chasing the small orange insects through the meadow. Walking through the meadow, SJ started back to the inn. The sun had begun to drop down in the sky. It wasn’t dusk yet, but soon would be, and she didn’t want to be late with the bellpops for Floretta.
“Remind me next time I am asked to do something that I know what I am getting into first. I’m unsure how Little Stuart does it, but that is tiring.” SJ moaned as she rolled her stiffening shoulders.
“I would have looked at the flowers they were going to and waited by them,” Dave said.
“You say that now?”
“I thought you were just using it as a chance to do some cardio. I know that is all the rage back on Earth.”
SJ closed her eyes and counted to ten before responding.
“If you have any suggestions next time, would you like to share them?”
“Sure. I have loads of suggestions.”
“Great. In future, then please do.”
“No problem.” Dave paused before continuing, “I don’t think staying still by the flowers would have worked. Looking at the patterns the bellpops flew and the flowers they visited, it is a little random looking back on it.”
“Looking back on it?”
“Yes. Replaying the events.”
“Are you recording everything you see?”
“Yes. It is standard practice for AI to record their Legionnaires so that the System can study different races and classes and how they develop. We can then share the details as references for each other.”
“That was mentioned in the terms and conditions. I remember reading it.”
“Yes. Everyone agrees to it.”
SJ coughed.
“Ooooooooohhhhhhh. You never signed the terms and conditions, which means you never gave permission to use your footage,” Dave said.
“Exactly. Why should it learn from me?”
“I didn’t even think about it. I have been recording Legionnaires since I began. I wonder how I turn the record function off. Give me a minute.”
Silence.
“Okay. I found it and have turned off the auto-record function. I can record anything you wish me to. Just give me a second’s notice if that’s okay.”
“And what good would that do me?”
“Well, if you think you will do something amazing, would you not want others to see it in the future?”
SJ thought about this for a moment. “Perhaps. It would be good to be able to watch fights afterwards and see areas for improvement in technique.”
“Unfortunately, there is no facility to stream video to Legionnaires yet. I believe a group have been working on it, but it broke the Legionnaire they were testing it with.”
“What do you mean they broke him?”
“Oh. He thought he had lost his mind, suffering from severe Déjà vu every time they began to check the playbacks on his screen. He saw a cleric and all sorts, asking for an exorcism.”
“Did his AI not tell him what was happening?”
“She couldn’t because the System was restricting information. I can only tell you now because of your status.”
“What happened to him in the end?”
“He got eaten by a manticore,” replied Dave matter-of-factly.
“How?” SJ replied, shocked.
“He thought he was watching a rerun, so to speak, and did not realise it was the first time and a current fight. It stung him, paralysing him, and then ate him.”
SJ scratched her head, wondering how messed up he must have been not to realise or even consider it could have been real. They reached the inn and entered the common room area. The bard was already singing. The soft tones of his voice drifted across the inn. You could hear his voice whenever he sang, even when the bar was full, and SJ would have sworn there were speakers hidden somewhere.
She walked straight to the serving hatch. “Here you go, Floretta.”
The skeleton turned, “Oh. Thank you, and just in time. Could you bring them through for me? I can’t stop stirring this at the moment.”
“Sure,” SJ walked into the kitchen through the swinging door.
“Where do you want them?”
“You see that pan over there on the other stove.”
SJ turned, looking. “Yes.”
“Could you pop them down over there for me, please?”
“Of course.” SJ walked to the stove and placed the jar on the countertop.
“Perfect,” Floretta said as she turned from what she had been doing and walked over. “This is the tricky part.” Floretta heated a pan containing some oil, and once it started to smoke, she began to unscrew the lid of the jar. Turning the jar upside down with her skeletal hand over the mouth of it, she lowered her ‘hand’ into the sizzling oil. Any other person would not have been able to copy her, pulling her hand away and jerking the jar quickly, sending the bellpops straight out into the oil.
Literally seconds later, Floretta scooped them out, placing them on a chopping board. Quickly picking up a small knife, she removed all the insects’ outer limbs, leaving small, crispy orange balls. Walking over to the mixture she had been stirring and dropped them in, giving it another good stir.
SJ watched all this with fascination. Floretta’s expertise and sureness were obvious.
“Floretta. May I ask you a question?”
“What is it?”
“What level cook are you?”
“I am a level 12 Master.”
“What? That’s amazing.”
“How difficult is it to level now?”
“Oh, I can’t level anymore.”
“Why is that?”
“I was a level 12 Master before I died and was brought back as a skeleton by a necromancer. Unfortunately, although we can live forever as undead unless killed, we may no longer advance skills. It does not stop me from learning new recipes. I just can’t improve my level from them.”
“A necromancer brought you back?”
“Yes. All of us undead were at some point, or so history says. We always start in servitude but are free to roam once the necromancer dies. I went back to what I had always done in my lifetime, which was cook.”
“I bet you have some amazing stories you could tell?”
“I do have a few tales from the Scrug Wars.”
“Scrug Wars, I do not know the history of Amathera.”
“Well, I will have to tell you the story one day, but now I need to finish tonight’s meals.”
“Of course, sorry, I will leave you to it.”
“Remember your payment. The pie will be ready this evening, so I will save you a piece.” Floretta put her hand in her apron pocket and withdrew ten copper coins, handing them to SJ.
“Thank you. Oh, Kevin asked me to tell you he will be in later for his usual.”
SJ’s display updated.
Quest – Catch for the Cook – Complete
You have helped serve the bellpops.
Rewards: 50xp awarded
Return to Floretta to receive your reward:
10 x coppers
Collect 1 x Portion of Gloss Berry Pop Pie once it is ready (adds +2 to Dexterity for 4 hours)
Congratulations, your Reputation with Floretta was raised to Friendly.
SJ walked to the bar. Kerys was serving currently. A rather large man stood towering over the bar, talking to Kerys in a whispered tone. Not being able to hear what was being said above the bard’s singing and the noise of the other patrons. Noticing Kerys’s face change, a look of fear seemed to come over it. The large man looked menacing, and SJ felt a little concerned. As always, Bert stood at the end of the bar and didn’t seem bothered by the man talking to Kerys.
Kerys finished her conversation and turned, seeing SJ waiting as the large man turned and left. “Hi SJ. What can I get you?”
“Could I just have another coffee for now?”
“Sure.”
SJ knew something was wrong. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Why, what makes you ask?”
“I saw that large man talking to you, and you looked worried.”
“Oh. It is nothing to worry about,” she said, smiling.
SJ had interviewed many people as a Forensic Accountant and knew Kerys was hiding something. “If there is anything I can help with, you will let me know, won’t you?”
“Yes. I will if anything comes up.” Kerys smiled as she placed the coffee on the bar for her.
“Thanks,” SJ said, turning away and walking over to an empty table in the corner of the bar. Sitting down heavily, she could feel an ache in her back. She had spent that long bent over chasing the bellpops, now realising how stiff it had gotten.
“I would have thought my Dexterity would have prevented me feeling stiff,” she whispered.
“No. Tiredness is affected by your Constitution more than anything else, so when exercising or being active, if your Constitution is low, you tire or stiffen up sooner.”
There were so many things to try to level and improve. Her attributes, skills, profession, and reputation were also key. “I need to start prioritising what I am doing.”
“Why?”
“I am losing track of everything already. There is so much to do.”
“What would you like to do?”
“I want to improve my tailoring skill, and I have not found anyone who can tell me anything about being an assassin. I also have not seen anything about weapons training. You mentioned previously that damage charts and proficiencies were available from level 5.”
“You don’t expect to see an assassin with a big sign over their heads advertising their jobs, do you? There may be in a city which houses an assassin’s guild, but not in a town. With weapons training, I would guess we just need to speak to the town guard or similar. They normally provide weapon training and sparring opportunities.”
“No, of course not. I was expecting there to be a guild or something here, though, as you mentioned being able to find class-specific trainers.”
“I already told you before Guilds start at level 20.”
“I know, but how do lower-class assassins train or get training then?”
“You do not need an assassin to train your skills, though.”
“Sorry?”
“Your skills are martial arts and subterfuge. Your primary focus for martial arts is finding a Master or someone more proficient. They do not have to be an assassin. Several classes can use martial arts. Also, your subterfuge is only an identification skill until you level it. You just need to find more things to identify.”
SJ had not considered finding someone who did martial arts. “I still haven’t seen any people doing martial arts.”
“We have not looked. We were too busy completing the quests.”
“You say other classes can use martial arts. Which ones?”
“Monks, rangers, even fighters. It depends on which specialisations they choose.”
“I do not suppose many fighters choose it, but we can ask if we see the town guard. Not that I have seen any.”
“There have been a few walking around. You probably will never notice unless you do something to attract their attention. They don’t normally wear uniforms in towns. It’s only in larger cities or the capitals where they are more regimented.”
“Why did they not show up when I fought Malcolm?”
“They did.”
“They did nothing to stop it, though?”
“They won’t if you are both Legionnaires. It would be different if you fought with someone from the township. It is likely then they would have stepped in.”
“You could have told me this previously?”
“Why? Nothing happened, did it?”
“It still would have been nice to know.”
“I thought you just said you were already getting lost with everything, and you still want me to add more?”
SJ dropped her head, sighing, and picked up the coffee, taking a gulp before replying. “No, You are right. I did say that. I would ask if there was anything I may need to know before I do something that might get me in trouble; you tell me immediately. Is that okay?”
“Sounds okay.”
“Priorities. Tailoring, martial arts, and weapon proficiency.”
“No problem. Sounds like we are starting to form a plan.”
“I still need a notebook and pencil. It would really help to be able to take notes of everything.”
SJ’s display triggered.
Due to the lack of practice for your current kata level, it has been reduced to Level 2.
This can be regained by ensuring that you maintain your training regime.
SJ cursed under her breath.
“Oh. That sucks,” Dave replied, stating the obvious.
“It would have been nice to get a warning.”
“The skill did say you needed to practice it.”
“I know, but just removing a skill level. Does that happen in normal professions?”
“No. Only when referring to training proficiencies related to combat skills. Once you have some, the same can happen to weapon proficiencies. That is why you always see guards sparing to maintain their levels even if not in active combat.”
“It makes sense with skill fade. It is annoying and very fast for the kata to drop down quickly. You don’t forget how to do something that easily.”
“Oh. Like forgetting to read instructions on recipes,” Dave replied.
SJ felt too tired at the moment to go and start practising her kata, so she stayed observing the various members of the town as they filtered into the inn. Even though she had been in the inn the previous evening, she had not paid the same amount of attention to whom or she should say what was around her. There were so many different races.
Kerys walked over with the steaming coffee pot and topped up her glass mug without asking. SJ just smiled, thanking her. The coffee was so good; it reminded her of the coffee she used to get from a little Bistro in London. It had a deep, bitter, chocolatey taste.
She had drifted off listening to the bard daydreaming and thinking about her tailoring and the damn socks she needed to knit when a scuffle broke out. She watched as a small goblin was lifted off the ground by his collar and held in front of a large, very angry-looking orc.
“Cheat,” the orc screamed at the goblin.
“I didn’t cheat,” the goblin stammered, sheer terror on his face; now his feet were dangling several feet in the air.
“I saw you,” the orc bellowed.
There were cards and a small pile of coins on the table where they had been sitting.
“I didn’t cheat, Gary. I promise. We have known each other for years, and have you ever known me cheat before?” the goblin squealed.
Gary, the orc, paused for a moment before replying. “You have never won this many games before. You have to be cheating.”
“I promise I’m not,” the goblin pleaded.
SJ was caught up in the moment with the rest of the patrons watching things unfold when a huge blue hand came to rest on Gary’s shoulder. Bert had arrived. Gary turned and glanced at the massive troll.
“Put him down, Gary,” Bert said in a very pleasant and calming voice that seemed completely out of character. “We don’t want any trouble in here tonight. You have been friends with Setu for years, and there’s never been a problem before.”
“He is cheating, Bert, and you know how I feel about cheats.”
“Where is your proof?” Bert said in a calm voice, still holding Gary’s shoulder.
“He has to have been,” Gary complained bitterly.
“Without proof, you can’t say that Setu did cheat,” Bert replied.
“But he has to have.”
“Setu,” Bert said, looking over Gary’s shoulder at the panic-stricken face of the goblin. “Have you cheated today?”
“I promise I haven’t, Bert,” Setu said hurriedly.
“There we have it then,” Bert replied. “Put Setu down, please, Gary. I don’t want to have to stop you.” Although Bert had spoken calmly, there was a definite undertone of threat.
With a deep sigh, Gary glanced back at the huge troll and dropped Setu to the inn floor. Setu cried as he dropped and landed in a pile at his feet. That was when the cards slipped out of his sleeve.
“I told you he cheated!” Gary bellowed and went for Setu.
Setu panicked, trying to crawl across the floor under the table, as Gary shrugged Bert’s hand off and reached down, grabbing his ankle and hauling him back out from under the table. Kerys had walked over and stood next to Bert.
“GARY!” she yelled at the orc, bringing absolute silence to the inn. Everyone had been watching the incident unfold, but you could have heard a pin drop when she shouted.
Gary, hearing the exceedingly loud shout of Kerys, stopped in his tracks. A yelping terrified Setu half lifted, half scrabbling to get away.
“Put him down this instant,” Kerys continued.
Gary growled in response and continued to pick Setu up, dangling him by his leg and shaking him. As he did, even more cards fell from his jacket sleeves. “See, I told you he was cheating.”
“Don’t you dare hurt him,” Kerys said in a warning tone.
SJ could see Bert was ready to get involved, but Kerys’s look could have frozen water.
“I want my coin back,” Gary growled, looking at Setu’s upside-down face.
Setu, in his upside-down pose, grabbed his pouch dangling from his belt and went to open it, scattering all its contents onto the inn floor. Coppers and a few silver coins rolled away. SJ watched as the coins made their break for freedom.
Gary unceremoniously dropped Setu, the squeaking goblin landing on his head with a thump and bent to pick up the coins.
Kerys walked to stand next to the sprawled Setu, who was trying to sort himself out and rubbing his head.
“Setu. I have known you for years, and you have known Gary for years. Why have you chosen today to cheat?” She said sternly with her hands on her hips.
“I need to pay the bill,” Setu said, crying.
“What bill?”
“The alchemy bills. Margu’s been sick, and I had to get a treatment of potions for her.”
“Why did you not just ask someone? Rather than trying to cheat your best friend?”
“I didn’t know what to do,” Setu sobbed. “Without the potions, Margu will die.”
“What is wrong with her?”
“GoblinPox,” Setu sniffed.
An audible gasp came from around the inn. “What is GoblinPox?” SJ whispered.
“Very bad. Very bad. Has a high mortality rate,” Dave replied.
“Is it common?”
“No. It’s very rare. The last outbreak I know of was over twenty-five years ago, and I have not heard of a case since. It killed so many of the goblinkin and even transferred to livestock. There was a massive cull of cattle and sheep. It cost many farmers their livelihoods, never mind the lives of so many goblins and goblinkin. If there is a case in town, it’s not good.”
“So, the cure is made by an alchemist?”
“There is no cure! Whoever is selling Setu something is selling him false hope. You either survive the fevers and pull through, or you don’t. No matter of healing can be done to remove the sickness.”
“Where does it come from?”
“They say it was originally manufactured by a goblin warlock, who was trying to create a disease to wipe out a rival clan. It somehow got out and started spreading. Thousands of goblinkin died. By goblinkin, I mean it could also affect similar races.”
“Such as?”
“Fae.”
“FAE,” SJ replied rather loudly.
“Yes. Fae and goblin are closely related genetically.”
SJ’s head spun. Her hand automatically covered her mouth, reminding her of the COVID-19 pandemic. “What can we do?”
“What do you mean?”
“We need to try and help if we can.”
“Really. If I were you, I would go upstairs, pack, and move out into the wilderness. Maybe I would set up by the waterfall in that cave. It was quite picturesque up there.” Dave drifted off.
“I am not going to run away. We need to find a cure.”
“Good luck. The best clerics, paladins and alchemists in all Amathera couldn’t.”
As soon as the patrons heard the word GoblinPox, several started to get up and leave the inn. SJ watched as even more began to filter out.
“Damn it, Setu,” Kerys cursed, looking down at the broken form of a goblin.
Even Gary had stopped collecting the coin and turned to look at his friend. “You should have said Setu. I could have lent you some coin.”
“I didn’t know what to do and was too scared to tell anyone. Then this alchemist offered me a cure, and I had no other choice,” Setu blubbered.
“We need to go and find this alchemist,” SJ whispered. “If there is one thing I hate, it is those that rob from the desperate.” SJ had dealt with a charity commission where one of the executives had been siphoning off funds to provide a lavish lifestyle for himself, and it had been the one case that had gotten to her more than any other as a forensic accountant. He had gone to great difficulty hiding all these microtransactions to a company providing aid to which he had links. It took her nearly twelve months to get to the bottom of it and find all the sources. It was the case that had lined her up for her next promotion.
SJ’s display triggered.
