God Class, page 35
Rainier grinned. “Lumaca… What drove you from your hibernation…? Never mind that, Carp. It is for the best.”
“Pardon, my lord?” Carp asked, but Rainier just waved him off and had him continue. “Now, this last one is a bit tricky, if I do say so, my lord.”
“Tricky, you say? How so?” Rainier demanded.
“Well… it is just a rumor, for now. But…” Carp said and gulped. “There are claims that three more figures were seen exiting the forest just before nightfall yesterday as well. A Goblin-”
“Of course, what else?” Rainier interjected, rolling his eyes and sighing.
Carp fought back his frustration.
Carp hated being interrupted and, somehow, he was the one person who was interrupted at every turn. It was in his nature, in his very bones. For his entire life he was cut short, spoken over, or spoken for. He couldn’t say anything, to Rainier or otherwise, but inside he went over mountains of dialogue and was ready to explode. He told himself that one day his words would be heard, one day he would be noticed. He would not be the drop in the bucket, he would be the entire storm. But Carp did as he always had done and decided to bury it down deep until it was nearly forgotten. Then, he continued.
“A Goblin,” he repeated. “A young human, and the Forest Guardian.”
Rainier’s eyes lit up even more and his sarcasm bled away. He was energized by this new information; it was a battery feeding him and restoring his drive once more. He practically cooed when he spoke.
“The Forest Guardian… how peculiar,” he whispered over a growing grin. “I can barely believe that it lived. Tougher than I anticipated, I suppose. After all of these years, these decades, perhaps it had finally come forward in search of Elric. Well, now things are certainly getting a bit more fun… And this is confirmed?”
Carp nodded. “The Guardian approached the gates just before nightfall and had spoken with the patrol guards. Scouts claimed that it, along with its two companions, had been brought inside the city walls by the guard unit themselves. Culkran was informed and sent word that he is monitoring the situation.”
“Spoken? The Guardian? Interesting…” Rainier said. He walked closer to the empty window, the morning air brushing his face and rustling his royal robes. Sunlight bloomed through and coated him, as if to set him ablaze right where he stood. “What about this human that was with them? Do we have any information?”
“None, my lord,” Carp answered and scrambled through his notes. “Nothing of note from the surrounding cities either. It was as if they had just appeared. It is possible they are an uncounted Sword Sentinel from the temple, of course. One that has been hidden long enough for records to have been removed.”
“Then perhaps I will pay another visit to the temple myself,” he nearly purred. “Letting the elder sages live may have been my folly on our first trip, but I rarely make the same mistake twice, Carp.”
“Of course, my lord,” Carp answered. With a shakier tone he asked, “And what of the band that made their way to Autumnrun? Should I prepare travel arrangements for us as well?”
Rainier was silent for a moment. It was a moment that stretched like an eternity in Carp’s mind. Then, Rainier turned to him with the sun at his back, accenting and igniting his large frame. His teeth shown in a wide grin like that of a feasting shark.
“Quintin Dallin is already there investigating rumors of rebel house interference,” Rainier said with a grin. “I am sure that he will sniff out any news from Autumnrun personally.”
The sunlight absolutely sucked.
Out of all of the foes Silas faced in this new world, the current beams of sun that shined through the inn window were the worst of them. They were fiery beams of Hell that magically intensified his already throbbing headache. And he could deal with all of that, if the room would just stop moving. Speaking of moving, his stomach was running laps like an Olympic sprinter. It was possibly the worst wake up he had ever had, and he had just woken up in the middle of a forest surrounded by things that wanted to eat him.
With more energy than he wanted to muster, he opened his eyes and sat up.
“God damn…” He said, immediately shutting his eyes and clamping his hands to his temples. “Poison…” He mumbled. “I’ve been poisoned.”
“Ha!” He heard Tulk exclaim from somewhere beyond the comforting darkness of his eyelids. “That is the cost of success, human. Perhaps next time you will not challenge me in my drinking, foolish boy. Did you believe you could truly out-drink a Goblin?”
“Water?” Silas ignored Tulk’s bragging. “Is there water?”
The Goblin laughed again, then passed over a large tankard of water. Silas’s stomach did a backflip at the subtle smell of ale that lingered on the cup but accepted it graciously and began to frat boy chug the water. It was room temperature, but he couldn’t care less as the liquid cold sloshed over his sticky, dry tongue and headed for his stomach. It took two more cups of water before he would bother with standing at all, but eventually he got to his feet, used the crude bathroom down the hall from their room, and eventually met his allies back at the table in the main area of the inn.
As he sat down, he could not help but feel like he had just left that table. He fought the urge to vomit right there.
A near-sobering memory of his sister coming home like this ran through his mind. She had been at some party with her friends and stayed the night. Silas was still functioning but had just been diagnosed, so his mother had woken him up early for a doctor’s appointment. His sister, trying to be subtle, slid in through the front door with her hair looking like a beaver’s dam and her face as pale as a ghost. Their mother saw her and proceeded to absolutely lose her shit, meanwhile his sister could barely make it to the toilet for an overdue puking session. Silas remembered laughing until tears crept at the corners of his eyes, while his mother laid into her about consequences. Some part of him wished he could have experienced that for his first hangover, he wished his mother would have yelled at him while his sister chuckled in the hallway. At least he had a grinning Goblin to laugh at him, he supposed.
The inn was relatively empty compared to how it was the night prior. A few guests lingered at the various tables, one at the bar itself, and there was a different bar maiden than the night before as well. At the guard table where Silas sat were Tulk, Esabell and Pawlin. It seemed like the guards had warmed up a bit to the Goblin, and he and Pawlin spoke about various weapons and battles. Esabell seemed bored to tears, and she perked up when Silas arrived.
“Silas! Good morning!” She said, her bright nature grinding against the hangover headache. “How are you feeling?”
“Dying,” was all Silas could groan in return.
She laughed, covering her mouth with a scarred hand before brushing her golden hair behind an ear. Silas stared at the hand a bit longer than he should have, noting that it they were burn scars. The flesh was weaved, pink and shiny, and clung to her hand as if it had melted to the bone. Silas did not find it gross in the slightest bit, but Esabell pulled her hand back below the table as soon as she noticed his lingering eyes.
“Oh, no! No! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare,” Silas panicked and said, waving his hands. He could have slapped himself for being so insensitive, especially after how many other had stared at him over the years. “I’m so sorry.”
“It is… fine,” she answered. It was a tone that said this came up more often than not, and it pierced Silas. “Nothing to worry yourself with. Now then,” she said to change the subject as quickly as possible, which Silas was grateful for. “I had already put an order in for us, a little food will do you well.”
Silas was hungry, despite feeling like he may automatically eject any food he consumed. He thanked her graciously for it and apologized again before the two sat in awkward silence.
“Can I… ask what happened?” Silas said, gesturing to the hand.
“You can, but I will not see fit to answer.” Esabell looked to the table and sighed, her shoulders falling as she did so. A few stray hairs fell from behind her ear, but this time she did not sweep them away. “It is not you, Silas. I just prefer not to speak of such painful memories. These scars serve as a reminder of a time when I had… failed. I would prefer not to relive such moments, more than I already do.”
Pawlin had halted his conversation to slide the hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear, then he placed his hand on her shoulder. Their eyes met and he gave her a warm smile. It seemed to calm her a bit, even if just for that second. Luckily, before Silas could bury himself any further, breakfast had arrived.
Silas’s stomach roared as the heavy plates were set down before them.
Mountains of fluffy eggs billowed steam before his eyes. They were flecked with some type of pepper, and there were two loafs of a dark bread on either side of the plate. The bar maiden had also dropped off mugs of piping hot coffee, and its aroma was stronger than any he had remembered. It was a nostalgic smell, one that had lingered in his home every morning and reminded him of family breakfasts. Smokey, nutty, and bold, the coffee sent Silas to a better place, and he graciously thanked their server, possibly more than was normal. She had barely turned around by the time Silas began to excavate the eggs into his mouth, accenting every few bites with a chunk of the bread then washing it down with the liquid black gold of the coffee. He followed that rhythm in a meditative silence as the others conversed around him.
One more coffee and he was finally feeling like himself again.
Silas learned that the lady who helped them the night before was Melra, and the one this morning was Tiffy. They were the owners and operators of the Odd Elm. They were beautifully strange women, maybe ten or so years Silas’s senior by his best guess, and he learned they had just been married a few years ago after inheriting the inn from Melra’s parents. The two were honored among the people of Autumnrun, and so this became the only inn, tavern, pub, or eatery that had virtually no issues with brawls or theft; it seemed that none would dare risk getting kicked out of this place. The pair were hospitable to the guards, caring to the less fortunate, and kind to the children.
Melra had a more athletic build from Silas’s memory, and he had learned that she briefly served in a scout regiment during the last war before taking a leg injury. Apparently, she had a limp she desperately attempted to hide, and she had done a good job at it since Silas could not remember it at all, despite the woman hustling around the place last night. Tiffy was leaner and paler, having been a server at the inn for most of her adulthood which is where they had met. Once the morning had calmed down, Tiffy has joined them at the table, and shortly after Melra had woken up she did as well.
It was the kind of quiet moment that Silas needed. Sitting at a table, surrounded by people who did not want to murder him, as far as he could tell at least. They joked and shared stories, even Tulk chimed in and was sort of accepted throughout.
Argor had not been around, nor could Silas remember them leaving last night. He worried about the Guardian, something that almost felt stupid to do since it was a tree monster with the powers of a literal demi-god now. But Silas couldn’t shake his concern. After barely escaping the Charred Bone clan and losing Rae somewhere along the way, it was difficult not to be concerned about what few allies he had.
“Tree said it had business,” Tulk said after Silas voiced his worry. “Watched over us while we slept, which Tulk did not like, then when I got up it said it would be back. Said to stay put too.”
“And Burbles? Where did the crab go?” Silas asked, knowing he could check his interface thing and get an idea of its location but not wanting to test it in front of the people around him. For all he knew some corporeal arrow would appear in front of him or a shimmering line would connect from him to the crab. That may not be a bigger deal when he fully understood this world and his new powers, but right now he would rather not take his chances Shadow Jabbing the guards if they decided to take him to that emperor guy. He also liked the guards and feared what they would think of him if they found too much out this soon.
“Burbles!” She shouted, then peered out of Tulk’s hood and stared across the table.
She crawled down the Goblin’s shoulder, chittering and clacking across the table before climbing up Silas’s arm and onto his shoulder. It was incredibly uncomfortable, seeing as how Tulk had the benefit of armor, leather and cloth, instead of squishy flesh, but Silas still felt an odd connection to the shelled creature. She was bonded to him, but in a way that was different from how Argor was due to the Gift. It was sort of like it was him, which he knew sounded a bit crazy since it was a bubbling, gargling, crustacean that also happened to be partially fungal and toxic. Silas grabbed a scoot of egg bits in his hand and raised it so that the crab could have some.
The rest of the group laughed at the sight, and it seemed that even though they didn’t know what to make of their hodgepodge team they at least found it entertaining.
“So, what do you have planned for this day?” Pawlin said, leaning over the table and flicking his gaze from Tulk to Silas.
Tulk shrugged him off, so Silas took the lead to answer.
“Honestly, don’t know,” was the best he could come up with. “We don’t know the town, might be a good chance to check it out. We also probably need to figure out a way to make some money,” Silas said and chuckled sheepishly. “We can’t rely on your generosity forever, and we have no idea when Argor will get back. Any ideas?”
Esabell and Pawlin shared sly grins towards one another, which caused the inn owners to scowl.
“Do not even think about it you two!” Melra exclaimed, eyes hardening on the guards. “I can see it in your damned smug faces!”
“We could use that kind of attention like we could use an earthquake,” Tiffy added. She shook her head and crossed her arms, punctuating her disdain with a classic eye roll. “If he gets word of this Autumnrun will be crawling in military bastards, making a bloody mess, drinking and eating their fill, it would be chaos!”
“Woah, woah!” Pawlin said, raising his palms as if to ward them back. “Easy now! Nothing that upfront, so relax. Perhaps they can work a parameter outpost, patrol the edge of the forest, leave at first dawn and return at nightfall. Culkran would not know the difference if two more were added to his guard pay out, he may even welcome it-”
“Guard Commander Culkran would have your heads mounted at the gate if you brought the emperor down on us!” Melra interjected, smacking a calloused hand on the table. Tiffy placed a hand on her back but seemed to nod in agreement. With a sigh, Melra added, “He has most likely sent word of such… unique guests just to get ahead of our town being reported!
“Hey,” Silas chimed in, turning their heads as if they were automated. “Listen, I don’t want to make anything hard. Neither of us do. And the last thing we would do is bring any unwanted attention here. If we need to, we could even stay outside of the walls…”
Silas really did not want that. He liked having food, and drinks, and a bed, and people. Sleeping on straw in a cavern system with only a crazy homeless man as company was not something he would soon repeat. But these people were kind to them and seemed to want to help, and he could not risk them or their town for his own selfish gain. Tulk wouldn’t care one way or another, that much was obvious, and Burbles seemed to be fine as long as she had one of them around.
“No, absolutely not,” Esabell joined in with a shake of her head. “We will not see that happen. You are guests, you brought us the fortune of the Forest Guardian and a Sword Sentinel. We may not sure how you fit in to the painting yet, Silas, but if you travel with them you have to be of value. Now then,” she said, then turned with a scowl towards the innkeepers. “As the lieutenant of guard, I retain the ability to add whomever I choose to our regiment in any capacity I wish. If it seems like we are drawing unwanted attention, I will ask for their leave myself. Or do you wish to further insult my decisions?”
Tiffy shook her head, staring down at the table.
Melra sucked at the back of her teeth for a moment before answering. “Doom us all, you will. But, fine. So be it. Might be good to have some real talent among your lot.”
Pawlin placed a hand to his chest in mock offense. “Strike me right after a meal, Melra? And here I thought we were such good friends.”
“Oh, shove off, Pawlin.” Melra rose from her seat, an almost imperceptible smirk tugging at the corner of her lips as she turned to Silas and nodded her goodbye.
Tiffy stood to follow her. “We really should be tending to the inn, I suppose. It was good to see you two,” she said to the guards. She turned to Silas and Tulk then added, “And very nice to meet you both. Come back for supper tonight. Melra makes the most tender venison stew in all of Galleon.”
Silas and Tulk said their goodbyes to her, then watched as the two innkeepers went about their day per usual.
“So, are you boys in?” Pawlin asked with a devilish grin. “She was not kidding, you know. We could really use the talent. A bit of sparring would do the new lads good.”
[You have unlocked a quest, Guard Duty: One. The job of guarding a town isn’t for everyone, especially one that borders a hostile forest. Guard lieutenant Esabell, along with guard Pawlin, have invited you to join the Autumnrun Guards. Find and equip an Autumnrun Guard uniform to progress. Reward: 3,000 experience, 1,000 experience multiplied by 3x for Universal Understanding. Item]
Silas laughed and ran his hand over his bald head, feeling the tiny sprout of hair growing in over its surface. “Well, uh, I’m not sure how much help I’ll be.”
“Oh, nonsense!” Esabell perked up. “I’m sure you are quite adept with the blade!”
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