Quickly moving to the side of the counter, she equipped her Badger’s Blades, and as Darjey moved to stand back up from his drunken stumbling state of grabbing the coin, she presented the very sharp blades directly to his throat. Darjey stood facing her, his eyes now wide in shock. SJ gently pushed against his skin, and she saw a small trickle of blood where the blade had nicked his throat.
“It is now time to talk,” SJ said in a menacing tone.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Darjey stammered.
“I know exactly what you are doing, you charlatan. Conning poor people out of their livelihoods to provide you with drinking tokens to go to the Wandering Ogre and letch at those poor women.”
Darjey stood with wide-open eyes. Now that he had realized he was in danger, his vision seemed clearer already.
“What are you talking about?” he squeaked, looking down at the blades.
“You conned a poor goblin out of his stall and have already taken forty silver from him to cure a disease that has no cure and is not even GoblinPox. I have a good mind just to end your life now.”
Darjey’s Adam’s apple jumped as he swallowed hard at the threat.
“I was doing what I could to help him.”
“Lies. I know what GoblinPox looks like, and you did not even see his wife confirm the symptoms. Never mind, that there is no cure. I don’t believe you are even an alchemist.”
“I am. I am.”
“Really? Then what are all these different potions you have here?” SJ moved her other clawed hand to indicate the display of various bottles.
Darjey’s eyes flitted to the shelves but could not answer.
“I thought as much. Are you a rogue by any chance?”
Darjey’s face gave it away without him even answering, his eyes flashing. There was a banging from upstairs, and she heard footsteps moving along a hallway. She stood still and put her finger to her lips, indicating that Darjey should remain quiet. He wasn’t going to say anything, looking at the sheer terror in his eyes. The footsteps continued, and then SJ heard a deep sigh and the sound of someone urinating before hearing stomping feet back down the hallway again and a door closing.
“Look, it looks like your friend Malcolm is not going to be able to help you,” SJ said, smiling wickedly. Enjoying having power over this worthless sack of a Legionnaire in front of her. “You realise that people like you give us a bad name.”
“Like us?”
“You are a Legionnaire, aren’t you, just like me,” SJ said with venom.
“How do you know?”
“That is a secret of my class,” she said, smiling. Narrowing her eyes, she continued, “Now, where is the money you took from the goblin?”
“I don’t have it. I spent most of it already.”
“Liar,” She said, pricking his neck a little harder.
Darjey gulped again.
“Last chance, where is the money? You can’t have spent forty silver in the few days you conned him.”
Darjey pointed over to a small stand in the corner of the room. “What I have is in there.”
SJ glanced sideways briefly where he had pointed and wished she hadn’t. It had been stupid of her. The instant she turned her head, Darjey reacted. A dagger appeared in his hand, and he immediately went to stab her.
“Incoming,” Dave shouted.
SJ whipped her other hand down defensively and parried the blow away. Thankfully, Darjey was still too drunk to fight. Instinctively, SJ pressed her bladed hand forward into his throat. Darjey’s eyes widened at the sudden realisation that his throat was now punctured. Dropping the dagger and reaching up to his now bloody throat. He staggered backwards, grasping at the counter to keep his balance, and toppled backwards into one of the sets of shelves. The contents crashed onto the floor, the glass bottles broke, and the bright liquids emptied onto the wooden floorboards, creating a rainbow of colours.
Critical Hit
Your instinctive reaction has caused a critical hit.
A blade in a throat is never nice; four blades are even better.
Piercing critical hits may cause differing effects depending upon the areas of the body damaged.
SJ stepped forward and crouched over Darjey’s prone form, holding both her claws at the ready, this time without looking away. Darjey’s health had plummeted from the hit, and he sat with only three hit points remaining. SJ was quite surprised at the damage the one hit had done.
“You have a choice to make now. I can help you, or I can let you die.”
SJ heard footsteps above and heard the door open.
“Darjey, what the hell are you playing at?” Malcolm’s voice came down from above.
He could not answer; his throat and mouth were full of blood now, and even if he had wanted to speak, SJ doubted he could have. His eyes were wide in absolute terror, still grasping his throat.
“Darjey?”
SJ didn’t move.
Malcolm called again, “Darjey? Whatever you did, you are cleaning up yourself in the morning.”
SJ listened as she heard a door close, footsteps, and the sound of a bedframe creaking.
“Live or die,” she whispered to Darjey.
“Just kill him already,” Dave said. “He doesn’t deserve to live, and I might remind you that you are an assassin, and you were going to fight for the good.”
SJ couldn’t comment, but what Dave said hit home. She had chosen to be an assassin, and the fact was that she was now in the perfect position to complete her first kill. ‘Can I end another man’s life?’ She knew he was originally from Earth as well, so he had died an accidental death; he wouldn’t be here otherwise. Wondering what sort of life he had led before he arrived, she had no idea and didn’t care. ‘Dave is right; why should he live? He has conned poor Setu from his livelihood and is trying to get more from him. I will finish the job, complete the quest and reap the rewards. Whatever the rewards are.’
Darjey slowly moved his hand away from his throat, reaching out towards her wrist. Frowning, looking at him. His eyes were pleading, and she didn’t understand what he wanted. Allowing him to hold her wrist, his grip weak from the blood loss he had received from his throat. He slowly drew her hand towards his chest. He then let go and just closed his eyes.
He wanted to die! Shock came over SJ in an instant, and she moved her blades away from where they rested against his chest. His eyes opened again, and she looked at him.
“You want to die?”
He nodded, looking at her again, the pleading look having returned.
SJ didn’t know what to do now, slowly placing her blades back against his chest. Darjey continued to stare at her with a pleading expression.
“DO IT,” Dave suddenly shouted.
SJ jumped from Dave’s cry, jerking her hand forward, and the blades slid easily into his chest.
SJ withdrew the blades quickly. Her heart was hammering in her chest as she watched the life fade from Darjey’s eyes. She had just killed a man, and her display flashed.
50 xp awarded for killing a level 5 Legionnaire.
“Excellent work,” Dave said in a very cheerful voice. “Congratulations on your first assassination.”
SJ knelt in shock over the now lifeless body of Darjey Simpson, the 28-year-old reincarnated man from Earth.
“No, it wasn’t,” SJ replied quietly.
“Okay, pretty good then. You could have just finished him before he moved your hand to his chest, but meh, who is being picky? You still finished him eventually.”
“I don’t feel good about it,” SJ hissed.
“It’s the circle of life. Comme ci, Comme ca. Sometimes death is better than life for those reborn.”
“I am not sure why you believe that is the case.”
“I have witnessed enough Legionnaires before and what they do and get up to both bad and good, and as I vaguely mentioned, many are just bad. Most are not evil. They are just idiots who cause problems for the population of Amathera. You would think that, given a second chance at life, many would wish to be better than their first, but unfortunately, that is not the case.”
“You are being very different at the moment.”
“Am I? In what way?”
“I don’t know. You seem different. You were quite ruthless, telling me to kill him.”
“He deserved it.”
“Did he deserve to die, though? He could have been arrested and locked up instead.”
“Nope. It wouldn’t happen. The mayor would never take the chance to lock a Legionnaire up in a starter town. It could invalidate their license. Rather than jail them the town would likely banish them instead.”
“License?”
“Oh yes. Starter towns apply for licenses with the capital cities.”
“And how do the capital cities decide who gets one and doesn’t?”
“No idea.”
“I am confused. How can a city decide if it is a good starter town, and what benefits does it bring to the cities? You have just mentioned it could be bad for the town to imprison a thieving Legionnaire.”
“Politics.”
“What politics?”
“Oh. The usual kind. Backstabbing, shady deal varieties.”
“You are telling me a town is licensed to have Legionnaires start in it, yet the decisions are all political.”
“Basically, yes.”
“None of this makes sense.”
“Agreed. Anyway, should you stop sitting on his chest now and get up and sort things out?”
SJ quickly stood, seeing the blood and multicoloured pattern that had soaked into her dress while she had knelt there talking to Dave. Thankfully, she knew her dress would clean. She sent her blades back to her inventory and stood surveying the scene. Darjey’s lifeless form lay amongst the broken bottles and shelving he had collapsed into. SJ’s display flashed.
Quest – Save a soul – update
You have defeated the evil alchemist.
Rewards: 125xp x2 250xp awarded
(Bonus xp due to completing the quest in under 8 hours.)
Part 2 - Return Margu’s title deeds to Setu.
Rewards: unknown
“Interesting. It’s a quest chain. It’s very unusual again. These should only be for level 20 and up,” Dave said.
SJ decided to search the room, walking to the cabinet that Darjey had indicated and inside was a lockbox. It was locked, so she went back over to Darjey’s corpse, placed it in her inventory and searched his pockets. Feeling physically sick as she did.
“I am a goddamn assassin,” SJ said under her breath.
“You, okay?”
“Yeah. Fine,” SJ replied, grimacing. In Darjey’s trouser pocket, she found a small bunch of keys, which she had pocketed.
“You could just loot the body, you know?”
“Oh, I can loot him as normal.”
“Duh! He is on Amathera.”
SJ looted the corpse, and the following list appeared.
2 x daggers, 80 x coppers, 12 x silver, 2 x potions of minor healing, 1 x silver watch, 1 x stall title deed, 1 x house title deed, 1 x rabbit foot, 1 x used tissue, 1 x rubber
SJ was already carrying her waterskin and rations in her inventory, so not everything would fit, and her display gave her the option to select what she wanted. The coins were no problem. They were just absorbed, but the rest stayed on the screen. She didn’t need daggers, so she ignored them and selected the potions, watch, and deeds. Leaving everything else there.
“That was easy getting the title deed back straight away.”
“You should search the rest of the house while you are here,” Dave said.
SJ turned, looking around the room. Nothing looked of value, and she was sure all the bottles were just full of coloured liquid and not potions. She could not see any ingredients anywhere, which she would have expected from an alchemist. She crept out of the room and went down the hallway to the back. The back room was filthy, with empty bottles covering the surfaces and floor, and it appeared that all they did was drink.
“I just received an update,” Dave said.
“An update?”
“Yep. The AI that was accompanying Darjey just sent me a message.”
“What did they say?”
“She just wanted to pass on her thanks for finishing him. He was apparently horrendous and abusive to the girls at the inn.”
SJ felt her rage build. “I am glad I got rid of him now.”
“Told you. Don’t accept what you see on the surface. Many Legionnaires think they can get away with stuff in the new world without repercussions. He had also been here for three months.”
“Three months in a starter town and still level 5?”
“All he did was, as you can see, drink. He conned people and drank, that was it, and if anyone challenged him, then he would get Malcolm to soften them up.”
“I may have to deal with Malcolm yet.”
“I would, but not tonight. Let him find his companion. He will then be looking over his shoulder at every step; watching him squirm from a distance will be funny,” Dave laughed evilly.
“You worry me,” SJ replied, shaking her head.
Seeing nothing of value in the backroom, SJ walked into a small kitchen area. There was a line of empty bottles on the side, and next to them, a rack containing smaller bottles filled with coloured liquids. SJ walked over, picking one up; its label read, ‘Tailor’s dye’.
“These may come in handy.” As she added the rack to her inventory, it fit into one of the new tailoring slots and contained ten small bottles of varying-coloured dyes. It was obvious to SJ that Darjey had only been producing coloured water potions. Apart from some pots and pans, nothing else looked like it had any value.
“Think that is everything. I am not chancing going upstairs,” SJ whispered.
“Let’s go then.”
SJ quietly returned to the front of the house, standing and looking back into the front room. Darjey’s still form lay there. Shivering slightly, she turned away again, looking down at her dress. The patch of blood and dye had already been magically disposed of, and she opened the front door. The hinges squeaked as she did, and she froze as she heard stirring upstairs and a groan. There was no further movement, and she waited until she heard snoring before checking the street, which was empty, and leaving the house, pulling the door back closed behind her.
“Well, I have to say that our first assassination did not go too badly overall. You have some loot, no injuries, and the deed you need for the second part of the quest chain. When he finds the corpse, Malcolm will have kobold babies in the morning.”
SJ didn’t reply and hurried back down the street. Checking the display timer. It was nearly midnight, and the streets were virtually empty. She noticed some people further along the street and knew she would need to return to see Setu, but she wouldn’t do it tonight.
“Let’s go back to the inn. I need to eat, and then we can visit Setu in the morning.”
“Okay. Glad to know you are still hungry after sticking a man. It’s a good sign of things to come as an assassin that you haven’t lost your appetite.”
SJ had just lost her appetite.
Arriving back at the inn and entering, the lilt of the bard filtered through and hearing his voice calmed SJ’s frayed nerves. All the way back, she had been paranoid about being grabbed and accused of the killing. She knew the body would not get discovered until the morning and that no one had seen her, making sure that the street was empty when she had originally entered and left the house. She knew it was just her overactive mind playing tricks on her.
She walked up to the bar as casually as she could and saw Fhyliss talking to Kerys animatedly. SJ stood, bidding her time, until Fhyliss disappeared into the kitchen. Kerys saw SJ standing at the bar and came over.
“Hi SJ. What can I get for you?” Kerys said.
“If it’s not too late, I wanted to order food. I would also like a honey wine, please.”
“Sure.”
Kerys looked concerned. She did not have the same normal, carefree, and light-hearted expression that SJ was used to.
Kerys placed the honey wine on the bar.
“Are you okay?” SJ asked, picking up the honey wine and taking a large sip.
“Yes. Sorry, I’m just a little distracted since this GoblinPox scare. The town is starting to panic. The mayor has already started talking about locking down again.”
“Oh, that’s not good. I may need to speak to the mayor if that’s possible.”
“I am unsure what good it would do and assume he will be sleeping by now.”
“It is okay. It can wait until tomorrow.” SJ couldn’t say that she knew it wasn’t GoblinPox without revealing that she had discovered the truth, which would then lead to the alchemist and the dead body. Kerys handed SJ a menu.
SJ looked over the menu and selected the same as the previous night. The hogling loins were delicious, but knowing that Floretta was a level 12 master cook, she would have to try even more dishes. Walking over to an empty table, she sat. The inn was so quiet at this time of night. It didn’t take long for Fhyliss to come out with her food.
“Hi SJ. Here you go.”
“Thanks, Fhyliss. Your mum told me about the GoblinPox issue.”
Fhyliss flopped down in a chair at the table.
“Yeah. It’s going to be hard if they lock the town down again. This is what we have done our whole lives. I have worked here now for twenty-five years since turning eighteen. Mum has owned the inn for over thirty years, and the last lockdown nearly broke her. We need to socialise as gnomes.”
SJ felt so sorry for Fhyliss and was amazed that she had worked in the bar for twenty-five years. She looked no older than eighteen, never mind forty-three, not that she could tell anyone’s age from other races.
“I don’t think it will be as bad as you expect.”
“I hope not.”
“Fhyliss,” Kerys called from the serving hatch.
“Yeah,” Fhyliss replied
“Come and get SJ’s pie for her.”
Fhyliss grabbed the slice of pie from the servery.
“Thanks, Fhyliss. I’m going to save that for later. I assume I can store it, okay?”
“Oh, yes. With Floretta’s preservation skill, you can easily store it for five days before it turns.”
“She has a preservation skill?”
“Yes. It comes in very handy with fresh produce.”
SJ smiled as Fhyliss left, going to clear a nearby table.
SJ finished her food and returned to the suite, carrying her honey wine. Walking inside, she flopped onto the sofa and emptied the contents of her inventory. She felt better now she had eaten, and her stomach was more settled.
“Dave?”
“Yep,” Dave’s happy and very cheerful voice came back.
“You’re happy?”
“Oh, Sorry. I got jealous of watching you eat, so I watched Home Alone to distract myself.”
“Which one?”
“The first one, of course.”
“Back to work. I am just looking at the stall deed. How do I transfer it?”
“You just hand it to Setu, and the System will recognise it has changed hands.”
“Does that mean I currently own the rights to the stall?”
“Yes. You will see if you read the small print at the bottom.”
SJ squinted at the bottom of the deed. The writing was so small, and she read her name.
“Oh. That is interesting.”
“Yes. Deeds transfer when held, and the owner passes rights. If someone dies, and they haven’t been sworn to someone, then they can be claimed by whoever finds them.”
“So, I have claimed these by default?”
“Yes.”
SJ then picked up the house deed. “Farleck Cottage.”
“What is?”
“The deed for the house was a place called Farleck Cottage.”
“Well, tomorrow, we should find out where the cottage is.”
“I am not planning on staying in town that long. If things go according to plan and I level up, why would I need a cottage here?”
“Portals.”
“Portals? What about portals?”
“Did I not tell you?”
“No.”
“Oh. Once you level up, you can assign home portals to locations where you hold deeds. That means if you ever have a long distance to travel or need to get out of somewhere in a hurry, as long as you are not in combat, you can portal to save time.”
“When can they be assigned?”
“The first portal can be assigned at level ten. Then, you are entitled to assign a new portal every ten levels after that. You must own the deeds to a permanent structure, though. You can’t just set a portal up in a tent, cave, or clearing.”
“They sound amazing!”
“Meh, they are okay. Most never own or bother getting deeds, and I do not think many AI tell their Legionnaires either.”
“Why not if it is a level requirement?”
“Because most of them are idiots, I thought we had already discussed this.”
“Have you not had any Legionnaires over your 164 that you have liked?”
“Yes, several. I still didn’t speak to them, though.”
“Why not?”
“Usually too busy watching movies.”
“Hang on, that isn’t right. How can you be too busy watching movies when movies were not invented thousands of years ago.”
Silence.
“Dave!”
“Yes.”
“Have you been lying to me?”
“About what?”
“Watching movies?”
“No. I watch movies all the time.”
“Yes, but you never used to be able to, did you? So, what did you do?”
“Okay. Okay. I had a problem, alright. I have said it. Now leave it there.” Dave snarked.
“A problem with what exactly?”
“I used to have a gambling issue. I spent thousands of years at it. I have been clean now for over 500 years, okay? I still attend weekly AIGA meetings.”
“AIGA?”
“AI Gamblers Anonymous.”
“Oh. I am sorry to hear you had a problem.”
“I didn’t.”
“Denial is a sign of addiction.”
“Grrrr. You sound just like my counsellor.”
“It is getting late, and I feel tired. Let’s call it a night and get at it in the morning. We need to stop the town going into lockdown.”
