by M J Sweeney
/ Increase Status with Elven Armourers Guild to Gain Journeyman Work / Completed
/ Increase Status with Elven Armourers Guild to Gain Master Work / Accept Y/N
/ Increase Status with Elven Armourers Guild to Gain Grandmaster Work / Accept Y/N
/ Become a Named Adventurer / Accept Y/N (Name can only be granted by someone of Elite status or greater)
/ Craft Your Own Armour, Journeyman Work / Accept Y/N
/ Craft Your Own Armour, Master Work / Accept Y/N
/ Craft Your Own Armour, Grandmaster Work / Accept Y/N
/ Mastersmith Alhain Can Claim Your Abandoned Gear If You Don’t Return Within 1 Week /
I found it odd I had completed that first quest without trying. I guessed because I was an elf, that qualified me for some freebies. After accepting the first three quests, I declined the three crafting options. After all, I didn’t want to spend hours and hours crafting to make better gear to survive. I wanted to be out in the wilderness, adventuring and surviving. And if I could increase my status with an NPC guild to get a similar standard armour anyway, all the better.
I was feeling some urgency, maybe even some kind of inner guidance, prompting me to find out more about the various gods and goddesses. I didn’t want to stay without a patron forever. Plus I wasn’t foolish enough to think that remaining as an unaligned priest was smart, or arrogant enough to think I could do everything alone.
Despite the fact that I found it hard to trust most people, a benign deity somehow, for me, was much easier to accept. Why? I didn’t really know. Although I’d never been a particularly religious person back on Earth, I also wanted my life here to have more meaning. It wasn’t just about hitting things or killing things, or levelling up to get stronger. I wanted purpose and honour to be my new guide. A patron god would be great, I hoped, and maybe even a source of support. Going from past mistakes, I knew my own judgment wasn’t always perfect; I knew how fallible I could be. I actually felt excited to see what this would bring. Perhaps that was my answer right there. Curiosity, change, and hope.
Chapter 3
When I got near the top of the hill, but still below the mansion and off to one side, there was a large clearing with a sizeable elm in the middle. Spaced evenly around the tree, I noticed four white marble statues, all elvish, the trees’ branches shadowing them all. They were quite detailed—two were male and two female. One male had an eye patch and a bow and was in a classic shooter’s stance. The other male was standing on a stone boulder, one arm out, the other holding a staff, looking like he was singing to the sky. The first elven female was sitting on some kind of wooden throne, her face veiled, and she had three stars carved into one corner of her forehead. The last was an elven girl-child kneeling in the grass, holding a bunch of flowers. At each statue was a bowl for offerings or donations. There was no lock box, so clearly thieves were deterred somehow.
As I passed by the little girl statue, I saw an elven fellow coming down the path. When he saw me, he changed directions off the main road and headed directly toward me. I waited while he approached. He was dressed in simple brown cotton pants and a faded yellow shirt, with trim leather shoes.
“Greetings of the day,” he said.
“Greetings,” I replied.
“Come to make an offering?” he asked.
“Yes,” I answered, realising it was true. “Only…”
“Yes?”
“I am not sure to whom.”
“Oh… do you not follow one of the divines?”
“Not as such, no.” We both paused and turned to look at the statues. “Are you the priest?” I asked.
“No, master dryad, I am not. I am the caretaker and gardener for high hill.” He gestured around him at the top of the hill with its landscaped lawns and garden. “I also assist Priestess I’Daon’Escow on occasion with her duties. So when I saw you here, I thought I would come down.”
“Thank you. Um… is it possible to meet with the priestess?”
“Certainly. She will be up top in the chapel at the moment. She should be finished before mid-meal.”
“Oh, great… and is it appropriate or inoffensive if I give each of the gods a donation? I don’t wish to cause any jealousy.”
He smiled wanly at my small joke. “No, master dryad, that’s fine.”
“And is coin appropriate, or something more personal?”
“Anything that you consider of value is acceptable.” He watched while I walked up to the first statue. I resisted the urge to turn around and tell him to go away. I felt strangely exposed and embarrassed, like I was going to confession or something.
Approaching the one with the staff first, I decided I wasn’t going onto my knees. Take me as I am or not at all, I thought. There was no nameplate, so I didn’t know who he was. He was looking up, so I called him “Star-gazer.” I dropped two small silver in the bowl. It wasn’t much, but it was probably more than I could afford right now.
“Enjoy the gift, Stargazer. I’m not asking for anything, other than if you like me, I can become your… um… helper. Or something like that. Thanks. Bye.” Feeling a bit stupid, I continued on.
The next was the one with the bow, looking like the god of archers; I dropped in two more silvers into the bowl. “Okay, Sir Archer, I’m not sure if I’m suitable for you, but maybe I’m different enough that I can help you in ways your normal ranger followers cannot. Okay, thanks, bye.”
The elven woman looked mysterious in her veil, but otherwise fine. She was attractive in the typical elf way; two silvers went in. “All right, your majesty; you’re beautiful, and, uh, majestic. So maybe you’ll be a good patron. I’d be happy to help if you need me. Thanks.”
The last little girl just looked, well, sweet. “Hi, miss. I don’t know what kind of help I can give you. You’re a child and probably innocent. But you look nice and kind, and pretty. Let me know if I can help. Thanks. Safe travels.” Two more silver offered.
Still feeling a bit stupid, I walked back to the gardener.
“Your name, good elf?” I asked.
“Cuffad Danzelion,” he replied. “And you?”
“Cordaen of-the-Forest.”
“Well met. Shall we seek out Priestess I’Daon?”
“Yes, please. Lead the way.”
***
We waited for the priestess to finish her prayers. She was tall for a high elf, taller than me, and it showed, as she kept her spine perfectly upright. She had that classic high cheekbone look, arched brows, and pointy ears. Her hair was black, almost a deep blue, with piercing blue eyes to match. I tried not to stare at her face too long, as she was quite beautiful. She was wearing a holy symbol around her neck with three stars carved into the metal surface, hanging between her breasts. I had to shift my gaze, admonishing myself slightly. Snap out of it.
A few other elves were there too, sitting on wooden benches. The “chapel” was actually between the exposed roots of another large elm, an area cleared out between the natural wooden walls of the trunk, with a large but simple canvas overhang attached above in case of rain. There wasn’t any sermon or browbeating—just people praying or meditating. I couldn’t really tell the difference, plus I hoped it would not be required of me. I had tried it a few times with one of my martial arts teachers, a guy who was into Zen, but it never took.
After Cuffad Danzelion introduced us and explained my interest, she looked me over a moment, causing me to blush slightly. Shit. Imagine being stared at by Galadriel. When someone in power, and beautiful to boot, really looks at you… let’s just say it’s hard to stay still under such scrutiny.
“How can I help you, Cordaen?”
“I… have recently come to a decision, of sorts. A decision to make a decision,” I waffled.
“Yes…?” Her eyebrows arched.
“You see, I am a priest of sorts, only I never completed my training.” Struggling to find the right words, I felt bad about the white lie—I’d never had any training, but I was a priest.
I could see it on my interface: Level 2 Warrior-Priest. And the interface didn’t lie! (I hoped.) “I never took an oath of service, and I want to… only…” I trailed off.
“Only?”
“I don’t know who I should give it to.”
“Oh, I see. Have any of the Divines shown any interest in you?”
“No. Not that I’m aware of.”
“Cuffad said you made some offerings?”
“Yes. Just some silver.”
She waved off my explanation. “I’m not interested in what you offered, but what you felt.”
“Oh… nothing much, really. Actually, I felt a bit silly, to be honest.”
“Yes, it’s good to be honest,” she replied a little archly. She looked me over again for a moment. “Perhaps you would join me for lunch? I can have the cook bring something here, and we can talk without hurry or bother, yes?”
I nodded quick acceptance. We arranged ourselves at the far end of the garden and sat on one of the wooden benches, the branches of the large elm still shading us. It didn’t take long for one of the cooks from the Gan’Escow mansion to bring our meals—bowls of rice, salad and small pickles that tasted unfamiliar, but good. The gardener had wandered off on some errand or other.
“You were saying…” she began again. “You made some offerings?”
I nodded, feeling shy about it.
“Did you say anything? Did you ask for anything?” she asked.
“Yes. I offered each one my service and asked if they could let me know if I could be of any help.”
She laughed at that—a high sweet sound, like music. “Direct and honest.” She smiled kindly, revealing perfectly straight white teeth.
“Was that okay?” I was totally out of my depth here, but thought it better to plough on through.
“Definitely; it was well done. For someone of little experience, it was good. Offering your help rather than asking for it is the best way to get attention. You also asked for a sign, so one way or another, something will be heard. Did you say anything else?”
“Not really…” I thought a moment. “Actually, I complemented the girl-child and said she looked pretty.”
The priestess smiled again. “She’ll like that.”
“Will that make a difference?”
“Impossible to say. But if I noticed, then so might they.” She smiled benignly at me. The expression felt a bit condescending—but she was an elf, so maybe that was normal.
“Hmm.”
“Can I offer a suggestion?” Her blue eyes glittered, as if amused, and maybe pleased.
“Yes, please, go ahead.”
“You will be staying in town for a while?”
“I plan to. See if I can find more work, sort out some better gear”—I gestured at my clothes—“that kind of thing.”
“While you are here in Ell’Escow, keep visiting the shrines. No need to offer coins each time if you can’t afford it. Seti likes flowers, Cylvai likes cakes, or any food, really, Anthul prefers a song or a book, or even just a story, and Lindane likes a leaf, or animal hair. Got all that?”
I shook my head. “So, which is which?” I asked, feeling a little stupid.
She smiled kindly at my ignorance. “Seti is the girl-child and traveller, Cylvai is the queen of stars, Anthul is the singer and poet, and Lindane is the archer and warmaster.”
I hoped to remember all that.
“Come and visit me again in a few days and we can discuss it further. If none of the local Divines take an interest, then you will have to go further afield to Geras Anandiel or maybe a human city, and sooner or later you will have your answer. Just be patient in the meanwhile, yes?”
“Thank you. Thanks a lot, you’ve actually been a big help. Lunch was really nice too,” I added.
She smiled and nodded at me regally. I gave a half-bow after I clambered up, then started my way back down the hill. Wow. What a day, and not even half done.
The only tavern in town was called the Titus Andronicus—a hotel and pub kind-of-deal. Its human-inspired name (Latin sounding, a language also called olde common), was odd in an elven town. It had a big smelly front room and dining area, with more buildings out the back door with mixed accommodation, apartments mostly, plus a common dormitory for the brave above the main pub.
The human barkeep told me the rates for the rooms, but I blanched at the cost. One jeb a night, and extra for food. There was no way I could afford that. I also asked about work, jobs, or errands, and he directed me to a job board, right next to the dart board down the back.
This end of the room was smoky and smelled of rank sweat, offending my dryad sensibilities. There were a number of people inside, mostly high elves, but with a smattering of humans and sprites. So far, I had seen no players (from Earth), but I wasn’t even sure if there were any identifying tags for such things. The people I met were just, well, people. No tags or status bars or levels or such. I think I preferred it this way. Made everyone more real—a hell of a lot more unknown, but more fun too. Fortunately, there was no one playing darts right now, so I didn’t have to dodge any bullets, so to speak.
The job board had a couple of “Moving House” notices asking for help; another “Guard Family and Wagon” looked like it came from one of the same families. That one might be all right, but I didn’t really want to go to the capital yet. There were a few other jobs for labouring and tasks. The last two notices interested me, and looked like they had been there for some time. “Exterminate Infestation of Armadillos—Contact Nazzarian ‘Maximus’ Pho at Maximus General Goods, reward 2 zorb 20 dran on completion.” The last one was a simple note to contact Priestess I’Daon’Escow for undisclosed work of a divine nature. Elven priests or divine warriors need only apply.
Oh, that was cool. I knew both of the people requesting aid. Coincidence? Fate? Or some kind of hidden game mechanics? In the end, I didn’t care. It was tempting to tear off the notices so no one else would apply, but I decided that would be rude. I was also tempted to stop for a couple of beers, as it was now heading into late afternoon, but the smell in there was just too much. I really couldn’t stand unwashed bodies anymore; it was repellent.
I meandered back out and headed up the street, back to the merchant store. The door tinkled as I entered. Once again, the little fellow seemed to pop out from behind his counter, as if by magic. “Oh, you again. Come to trade?” he asked hopefully.
“Nazzarian Pho?” I asked.
“That’s me. Call me Maximus, if you like. And you?”
“Cordaen of-the-Forest,” I replied. “I wanted to ask you about the job you have posted. Extermination of some pests.”
“Oh, that old thing. Yes, sort of. I had kind of given up on it.” His pert little green face looked equal parts hopeful and forlorn.
“Tell me; maybe I can help,” I urged, trying to sound proper and important.
He eyed me off a moment and then nodded slowly. “All right, it’s like this. I… acquired a property a couple of years back when a client reneged on a deal. It was a great opportunity for me ‘n the first wife to retreat to a country estate, if only on the weekends. Have a bit of private time, without all the eyes and ears that peer in hereabouts.” He gestured around him at the town. “Anyways, long story short, the place was… is a lemon. It’s infested with poisonous armadillos, and they’re impossible to get rid of. It used to be a great vegetable farm—grew anything; fertile soil, y’know—up until the oversized rats moved in. Now it’s a disaster, and I can’t sell it.”
“What’s been tried?” I asked; I was fully curious now.
“Firstly, killing them is real hard. They’re tough, and they have a poisonous bite. Coz of the poison, you can’t kill too many onsite, or they’ll wreck the soil. If you poison the grounds to drive them out, you end up wrecking the area, so same result. And they just scare off the dogs, the rodent catchers, and suchlike. Lastly, they breed like rats. If you kill a few or even a bunch, they’re all back within a few weeks, more
than ever.” He looked up at me, obviously without much hope.
“Do you mind if I give it a try?” Don’t say no! I was trying to look big and imposing and competent, and trying to let none of that show on my face.
“Not at all. I don’t fancy your chances, so if you succeed, I’ll be shocked.” He rubbed his pointy nose. “I’m prepared to double the posted reward, and I’d be in your debt.”
Yeah! I grinned. “Great, that’s a deal.” My interface dinged. “I’ll keep you updated. Oh, can you draw me a map?”
“All right.” He went behind his counter and got up on his stool so his head came over the top of the bench. He pulled out a hand-drawn map that showed Ell’Escow and its surroundings, mostly the forest called Randain Baum. He got out a chiselled charcoal pencil and marked the map. “Here, between the stream, bridge, and the north-west road.”
“All right, good. I’ll make my way over there tomorrow and investigate.”
“Luck of Isserad,” he replied. “You’ll need it.”
With that little success under my belt, I decided not to go and ask I’Daon about her quest. If she had wanted me to know, she would probably have told me already. She had asked if I was staying in town, so perhaps that was some kind of test.
Walking back to the markets, I found Drognad bargaining with an elf-mother with an infant on her hip. They both seemed to be enjoying the negotiating game, and eventually a price was agreed and a bunch of dried herbs and some kind of salve changed hands.
I approached the gnome. “How’s your day?”
“Good so far. You?” His beetle eyebrows were climbing up his face again.
“I got most of what I needed done, but I wanted to ask another favour.” I gestured at his small campsite.
“All right.” He folded his arms, expression serious.