I started with my favorite representative of the Golden Horde. To be honest, I really wasn’t looking forward to it, given my distaste for scandals and fights. But I have an even stronger distaste for putting off anything unpleasant I have to do. Once upon a time, I was more like everyone else on the planet and did my best to avoid those conversations. You know how it is, there’s a tough conversation you need to have, and you start thinking up any excuse you can to kick the can a little further down the road. Unfortunately, that just means you won’t get to pick your battlefield and, worse, you’ll have wasted a whole day trying to figure out what you want to say. After that, your karma is in the toilet, and you’ve burned through nerve cells you’ll never get back. What good does that do you? People who choose that road remind me of men trying to wade into cold water. They tiptoe in, splashing themselves with water, as if that warms them up, clenching their stomachs, doing girly little squats, and squealing when the water gets to their waist. Isn’t it simpler to just jump right in? You get the whole thing over with in one fell swoop.
“Hey, El.”
“Where were you?”
“At the dacha helping my parents. You didn’t see my text?”
“No. You wrote me?”
“Of course! As soon as I found out I had to go. I called, too, though your phone was unavailable.”
“I was worried.”
That really got me going. Maybe she was pregnant? I mean, children are great in general, but right then…
“El, do you have a Schengen[14] visa?”
“Sure.”
“And your friend works at a travel agency, right?”
“Still does.”
“Listen, what do you think about taking a trip in a few days? Just not to Turkey. Maybe to Spain or Greece? Ask her if she has any good deals going on right now.”
The phone was silent. Finally, she responded, though her voice was almost inaudible.
“Are you joking?”
“Why would I joke about that?”
“Okay, but if you tell me in a few days that you can’t do it after all, I’ll kill you for real.”
“I won’t.”
“All right, let me call you back.”
That was one more thing done and one more thing that pleasantly surprised me by how well it went. I was still worried by how strangely she was acting, but it takes a woman to understand another woman.
There was nothing unexpected on the paper forums. Battle lines were formed, and everyone for and against video games was going at it from one end to the other. I wouldn’t say my handiwork was responsible. It was just a happy coincidence that the articles had been released at the right place and the right time. Still, as I scanned the debates, I felt the same sense of satisfaction a craftsman looking at his work might have.
The gaming forums, on the other hand, had quieted down. Most players had decided that the whole epic quest idea was a myth, and they’d left for greener pastures. On the other hand, I was struck by the fact that most threads on the topic were written fairly professionally. I had the feeling that there was a PR specialist behind the scenes pulling strings to get everyone focused in the right direction. Perhaps, a clan or group of clans decided to smooth things over and get rid of potential competitors while they looked for the quest holder. If that was true, they did a good job. I silently wished them luck in their search, wondered if they’d find him, and went to sleep.
***
I stretched and heard my phone ring.
“Kif, it’s me. There’s a trip to Costa Daurada, Salou. A resort city in Spain.”
“Ah, Catalonia. Sounds great. When’s the flight?”
“The 15th, in four days. 4:15 p.m. from Sheremetyevo.”
“Perfect. And it isn’t a charter, so we won’t have to wait at the airport.”
“So should I reserve seats?”
“Go for it.”
Elvira paused before quietly muttering a goodbye.
“Okay, see you tomorrow.”
Catalonia, fruit, sangria, Port Aventura… All I had to do was write one last article and turn it in before I was on my way to a sunny piece of heaven.
I really didn’t need to log into the game, since I knew what I would write about. There wasn’t anything else to do, however, and, strange as it may sound, I was starting to miss the blue sky of Fayroll.
Once again, I found myself standing on the pier. The early morning sun was playing on the water of the Great River as seagulls flew overhead. A peaceful scene for once. To the left of the pier, some fishermen sat on the bank, occasionally jerking on their rods.
I stood there for another couple minutes, enjoying the picture of universal calm and stability, and then started toward the city. The very first thing I had to do was go talk to the instructor and get my two abilities. Knowing my luck, if I didn’t, I’d soon find myself neck-deep in some drama or other and wouldn’t have the time.
The town was small. There were about thirty buildings, and I saw the familiar sign for the instructor I needed before also noticing the town’s Tearful Goddess Order mission. I also came across the port building, which had just one floor and looked like a barracks, as well as a tavern, a hotel, and a squat little building with a sign that read “town hall.”
I paused for a second by the order mission and considered dropping by to tell the local leader hello from Master Hugo, but thought better of the idea. Who knows what kind of witcher I’d have to go catch if I did? Instead, I turned and walked straight toward the sign with the shield and sword. k'12
We’ll see what kind of hobby this instructor has, I thought. The first carved and the second made kites. Maybe this one weaves sandals or plays the balalaika[15]?
I knocked on the gate.
“Come r-r-right in!” It was a child’s voice, and it seemed to get caught on the letter “r.”
I walked in to see a girl about five years old sitting on the porch with a straw doll in her arms.
“Hi,” I said.
“Gr-r-reetings,” she responded.
“Why do you like the letter ‘r’ so much?”
“I just lear-r-rned how to say it, and I like showing it off!”
“Got it. What’s your name?”
“Adele.”
“And where’s your grandfather, Adele? I came to see him.”
“Gr-r-randpa is fishing. As soon as he catches something, he’ll r-r-return home and br-r-ring me a lollipop. Do you have a lollipop?”
“Nope, I don’t.” I held up my hands.
“That’s a shame.” She sighed.
“It is,” I agreed. “Where does your grandfather usually go fishing?”
“By the pier-r-r. R-r-right on the other side. He’s the only one there with a bear-r-rd.”
“What’s his name?”
“Gr-r-randpa!” The little girl looked at me in bewilderment, as if to ask what else she was supposed to call him.
“Of course, but what do the neighbors call him?”
“Dar-r-rn old Gr-r-rod.” She lowered her voice and stomped her foot.
“Got it. Well, I’ll bring you a lollipop. And your ‘r’ sounds great!”
“R-r-really? You’ll br-r-ring me a lollipop?” She beamed at me.
I nodded. “Of course I will!”
On the way back to the pier, I stopped by the tavern and found only three people there, all of whom were NPCs. The tavern keeper sold me a lollipop, though the surprised look on his face told me that players usually just bought beer. Apparently, I was the first to ask for a lollipop. But what was wrong with buying one for Adele? I’d promised I would, after all, and I could have her grandfather give it to her. Grandparents are always tickled when people like their grandchildren. Of course, I’d give it to him before the conversation turned to my abilities.
After Fladridge, its restless residents, and the crowds of players rushing up and down the streets, Mettan seemed calm and peaceful. I only saw two players on the road, and it looked like they were focused on fi
nishing quests.
I finally arrived at the pier and was happy to find that only one of the people fishing there had a beard.
“Master Grod?”
He turned and motioned for me to be quieter.
“I need to talk with you.”
“I’ll be fishing for another two hours, so stop by the house later. Do you know where I live?” the stocky old man asked softly.
I nodded.
Grod nodded in reply and waved his hand as if to send me on my way.
Well, there was nothing for it. I had two hours to kill, so I decided I might as well walk around the city and head over to the port to see what the twisted quest was about. The ships were anything but reassuring, but it sailing poorly was still better than walk in comfort.
I stopped at the port building and knocked on the door like any decent person might.
A gruff voice answered from behind it. “Come in, whoever you are! Just wipe your feet.”
I made sure my feet were clean and pushed open the door.
Chapter Twenty
On the Shores of the Great River (Part One)
The port master was pleasantly reminiscent of Mammoth. I mean, outside of their height and how hairy they were, they didn’t resemble each other much on the surface. One big difference was that this salty, wind-driven sailor was one-eyed, one-legged, and incredibly grizzled. His face was marked by a permanently spiteful grimace, and there was a cigar stub jutting out of the corner of his mouth. Still, there was something about his eyes and the way he carried himself that reminded me of Mammoth. His name was Neils Holgerrson.
“What the hell do you need?” Mr. Holgerrson’s greeting was more an interrogation.
Ah-ha, one more thing he and Mammoth had in common. I recognized him by his amiability and cordiality, and my heart warmed.
“I’d like a seat on the boat,” I informed the sea dog.
“Oh, is that all? Belay and ballast! Well, if you’re a rich little kiddie and your mommy gave you a sack of gold to go along with your Rosa-Mimosa perfume, hand over 10,000 coins a day and the spot is yours! I’ll take you straight to the Kraken if you want.”
“Where am I supposed to get that much money?”
“Then take a hike. I’d rather drop a hundred thousand squids down my pants than make an exception for you.”
I imagined the squid, saw where they’d be going, and shuddered…
“Maybe there’s something else we could figure out?” I winked at Holgerrson.
“Get the hell out of here!” The old sailor roared at me like a wounded hippo. “They said you landlubbers are all turning into women, but I didn’t believe them. Yeah, right, we’ll figure something out! You know what I do to people like you—”
I doubled over with laughter when I realized what the devil thought I meant.
“Oh, calm down,” I told him. He had already unstrapped his wooden leg and was whirling it around his head, taking aim at me as he did.
“That’s not what I meant!”
“No?” Holgerrson puffed on his cigar butt, which had somehow stayed in his mouth even while he was bellowing at me. “Then what did you mean? I thought you were one of those…rear-wheel drivers… And you’re like a girl with that earring…”
That did it. I had to see which ear normal guys pierce. And which one they stay away from.
The sailor snuffled and grunted as he started strapping his leg back on. The cigar didn’t move a millimeter.
“I meant that maybe I could help with something. I could help you, and you could give me a good deal on that ticket. Sure, you can’t give it to me for free, but you could take fifty or seventy percent off the price.”
“Oh, yes? Well, there is this one thing. It’s very odd, though.”
“What do you mean?”
“The captain of a tub called the Firefly runs between cities here in the lower reaches of the Crisna. That’s the one you’re trying to get on, but it’s gone.”
“What do you mean, it’s gone?”
“Just that. Two days ago, it left the city with a full crew, and nobody has any idea why, bosons and bluster. Since then we haven’t seen hide nor hair of them—gone!”
“How big is the crew?” I pictured a squadron of sailors bedecked in ribbons and vests, their dashing captain in front, marching three by three to the tune of a merry shanty and disappearing into a forest.
“Have you seen their bathtub? Where would they fit a big crew? Three mates and Gul, that’s it.”
“Oh, so the captain’s name is Gul.”
“Right. So, want to go looking for them? They were supposed to set sail yesterday, buccaneers and bootleggers. Everyone’s worried something will happen to them. What do you say?”
You have a new quest offer: Find the Captain.
Task: Find Captain Gul.
Reward:
700 experience
Significantly discounted passage on the Firefly
Accept?
“Why not? Let’s go find us a captain.”
“Excellent. As soon as you find the old octopus, send him this way. I’ll do my best to get him to knock something off the price, brandy and brigands. Oh, and stop by town hall. That dried squid went there yesterday to ask about something. Maybe Mayor Glopkins knows what’s going on, that landlubbing rat.”
Their town hall was just a few steps away from the port. I peered cautiously through the doorway to the mayor’s office, knowing as I did what those local politicians are capable of. This one, however, did not appear to be anything out of the ordinary. He was long and bony like some kind of dried fish. His long nose was knobby, and his eyes were sad. In short, he looked nothing like a Glopkins. I knocked on the door as I took a step inside.
“Hi, there,” I said in greeting.
“Hello!” he answered cordially.
“I have some questions for you. Do you have a minute?”
“Yes, of course.” The mayor stretched his face into a smile. “My job is to make sure that everyone visiting or coming through our city has a comfortable stay while they’re here.”
“Wow!” I said. “I’m not here about that, though. I was just talking with Mr. Holgerrson…”
“Ah, that old drunk. ‘Brandy and booze’…straight down the hatch!” The mayor had apparently had his fill of the port master. “And?”
“Well, he hired me to find Captain Gul. He said Gul apparently came to talk to you before he went missing.”
“Yes, he was here. He asked me for directions on how to get to Marion the herbalist. His rheumatism was acting up, and you know how hard rheumatism can be on sailors. I told him where he could find her.”
“Could you tell me, too? I need to get Captain Gul back here so the ship can set sail.”
“That’s a good deed you’re doing, young man. I’ll tell you how to find her and even write her a note. Otherwise, she won’t talk to you. She can be petty, that one, though her mother was no better. She was a rat, rest her soul. But both of them—the deceased mother and now Marion—are first-rate herbalists.
“Thank you, Comrade Mayor!”
“What did you call me?”
“Oh, that was just a habit. In my parts, it’s what we call respected officials.”
“Got it. It’s a good word, we’ll have to start using it.”
The mayor sniffed as he jotted a few lines down on parchment with a red quill pen, sprinkled some sand over his work, shook it, and handed the parchment to me.
“Give this to Marion, and she’ll be happy to answer all your questions. Good luck!”
“But where should I go to find her?”
“That’s easy. As soon as you leave the city, turn left. You’ll walk through a grove of trees, then a clearing, and finally you’ll see a field with an enormous elm tree. Her house is right next to it.”
“Thanks!”
I turned toward the door.
“Wait a second, young man…”
“Hagen. You can call me Laird Hagen.”
“Well, a little,” I said modestly.
“Come on! Just look at your sword and shield. And your eyes, too…there’s war in them. It’s hard to tell what you’re thinking—maybe you’re cracking a joke, or maybe you’re about to crack someone’s skull. In August, we celebrate Royal Guard Day, and our local veterans have the same look. They pull on their chainmail and helmets, drink too much wine, and go to town. Sometimes, they’ll turn over the Sindhi traders’ fruit stands, others, they’ll chop clay housing tiles in half with their bare hands. Then, when night falls, they jump into the river shouting ‘for the Guard!’ We’re never sure if they’re cooling off or going crazy. Oh, and they break empty pitchers over their heads.”
“Soldiers are insane… Not all of them, of course, but still…”
“Soldiers, yes. But you’re different.”
“So what do you need?”
“We have a problem; our water monster is missing. Someone stole it…” The mayor sadly scrunched up his large nose.
“What water monster? An animal?”
“No, it’s a statue. Our city was founded by three large and illustrious families: the Diamonds, the Garfunkels, and the Flanders. Once upon a time, they landed here, and the fathers of the three families all remarked on how good a place it was for a settlement. So they started building the first houses.”
The mayor sat down again behind his desk and motioned for me to follow suit.
“Anyway, they were sanding logs and building foundations when the Water Monster crawled ashore. It was terrifying, with fins and eyes like two torches, and it glowed! There it was, ready to destroy and eat them all.”
“All three families at once?” I was having a hard time believing the story.
“Those water monsters…o-o-oh!” The mayor shook his fist in the air and continued. “Then Josly Flanders grabbed an axe and started hacking away. Everyone else followed his lead and jumped in to help.”
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