Day 17
Captain Graystone had arranged a private room in the back of The Poor Man’s Dream. He had arrived at the gates a few minutes after I had passed back into the city. He took one look at me, caught the scent of me, and agreed to let me clean up first.
I quickly moved back to my room and ordered an emergency bath. But first I had to clean my armour, which was a very prolonged and unpleasant experience. Once it arrived, I dived into the hot water and scrubbed myself thoroughly.
Even though I was in extremely hot water, I hardly felt it; I was shivering. The grave chill was weighing heavily on me, and I was looking at 72 hours before I could shake it off. Adding in the bonus of my first dose of eldritch corruption, I was looking at quite an unpleasant few days ahead of me. Thankfully, the number was so low I hadn’t noticed its effect on me yet.
It just wasn’t affecting my body; it was affecting my mind. Everything seemed duller to my eyes, and I felt a great way to my mind. I didn’t want to do anything but roll up into a ball under my sheets in my bed and ignore the world. I was forcing myself to do even the most minor things. Cleaning my armour seemed like a great chore that had drained me. I really didn’t want to go downstairs and deal with Captain Graystone.
By the time he had arrived, I had cleaned up and was ready for it, I could be. One of the servers from downstairs came up, said he had arrived, and led me to the room where he was waiting. He was not alone, for a small, timid little man was sitting next to him. He was not introduced, and I didn't ask. As soon as I sat down across the room, he started straight away, and the unnamed man started scribbling down what we were saying on several pieces of paper before him.
“Well then, best report on what you saw out there.”
I had been mentally preparing for this conversation and began walking through everything I had done. I took it slowly and explained to him about the fog and the inability to see anything. When I reached the part about my first encounter, he perked up instantly. When I told them I used [Identify] on the undead, he interrupted the flow of my story.
“Can you confirm your ability to identify it as an Undead Shambler?” He said, leaning forward slightly, as soon as I, with his arms crossed.
“A Rotting Undead Shambler was the information I received.” I clarified.
“Thank you for that clarification. Please continue.” Grayson didn’t lean back.
I continue to tell my story of how navigating the fog grew increasingly complex as it grew denser. I told him I hadn't left the path due to this and how far I believe I'd travelled into the graveyard while engaging various undead along the way. I confirm that every single one engaged was a Rotting Undead Shambler. I reached the point where I took out the last to bring my kill total to five, and as I had no clue where I was in the greater layout of the graveyard, I decided to double back.
Once I reached the point of returning to the gates, you leaned back and seemed satisfied with what I had said. This was confirmed by the System message I received.
It appears I have done enough to satisfy the quest's needs. I was quietly thankful that I would not have to go back into the cemetery any time soon and would need to purge the debuff I was now suffering from.
“Destroying five undead was above the requirements of the question; you will be rewarded appropriately,” Graystone said, looking at me. “I suspect it will take quite some time off to recover from the grave chill affecting you.”
I was a bit shocked that he managed to gather that I was being affected by it. He looked at my expression and laughed.
“I am a veteran of cemetery clearances myself and know what happens in there. Grave chill is one of the lesser effects you could suffer from.” He took a deep breath after finishing that and then stood up. I quickly followed him, as did the scribe.
“The city thanks you for your service, Adventurer Hector. Your actions have balanced the ones you have taken against the Watch. We consider the matter now closed.” He nodded to me and left the room with the scribe quickly following behind him.
I watched them go, leaving the door open behind them. As soon as I was sure that they were gone, I let out a deep breath. One less problem I had to worry about.
I walked out, closing the door behind me, heading down a small corridor into the common room. The place was starting to fill up with the regulars now, as it was later in the evening, and my stomach told me I had been ignoring it for far too long.
I took a seat at one of the empty tables, and the wait staff acknowledged my presence. One of the waitresses told me that my evening meal would be delivered shortly. I lead back, thinking about my trip into the cemetery and how I didn’t want to do it again, hopefully ever.
As I sat there gathering wool in my head, I didn’t notice the waitress walking up to me until she deposited the bowl and tankard before me.
“Thank you,” I told her, expecting her to move away with a nod of thanks, but she hesitated.
“Adventurer Hector, is it true that you went into the old cemetery today?” She asked. I could tell she was nervous about asking me, whether because she thought it was impolite or for some other reason I did not know.
“Unfortunately, I did. A quest raised by the city I was required to honour. Thankfully, it was a short one, and I was able to get in and out quickly.” I don’t want to dwell on what happened today or brag about my deeds. I decided to play it off as not much.
“It must have been a fearful thing to do!” She exclaimed. She gripped the tray she brought my food to the table tightly against her chest.
Her reaction seemed even in my present mental condition, too dramatic. She must have sensed my gaze shifting to one of calculation, trying to figure out what her game was.
“Sorry for asking. I must be about my business.” She turned and hurried away.
“Well, that was odd,” I muttered to myself. I started eating the food, but unfortunately, the grave chill robbed it of any real flavour.
Something about the waitress's interaction with me still felt off. She was one of the less regular wait staff who knew me in the tavern. I appeared to eat, ignoring everything else, but I was watching her to the best of my ability without being noticed. I kept glancing to find out where she was and who she was talking to.
The common room was nearly full by now as the evening shifts had ended and the hungry came seeking food. Many would stay on drinking until late. They would all be kicked out by midnight. It was Sisterday, and the middle of the workweek.
I lost sight of her often as she worked the crowd and the tables. But as soon as I started noticing a pattern. There was a booth off to the side, near the doors, and directly out of my line of sight. She was regularly going to and from it far more than the job required. She would spend a few minutes air each time, conversing with whoever was sitting there, and then move on.
I was in no mood to deal with this crap. My head was heavy, my body was tired, but at least my belly was now full. I was still cold, but this wasn't the kind that came from outside; I was chill, coming from deep inside me. I got up and walked to the bar. As I did so, I was able to glance into the booth as I passed through the room. I only got a brief glimpse of who was sitting in it.
A young man in his mid-20s, dressed rather flamboyantly, sat with several sheets of paper before him, writing on them absentmindedly. I noticed a musical instrument similar to a guitar. It could be a lute, I wasn’t sure.
I pushed through to the bar and was quickly greeted by one of the barmen.
“Evening, Hector, what can I do for you?”
“Evening, Nicholas. Can you tell me who is sitting in the booth near the door?” I indicated with my head in the direction.
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He looked over my shoulder through the crowd. “That’s the Bard Songwing. He likes to slum it in Low Town looking for stories and songs to entertain the people with.”
“Songwing?” I asked, not believing the name I was hearing. “Is that his real name?”
Nicholas shrugged his broad shoulders. He was a big, burly man who took no crap from anyone, and he was one of the bouncers, along with helping out at the bar here at The Poor Man’s Dream.
“That’s the name he goes by and what everyone calls him.”
“Thanks for that.” I turned and headed upstairs to my room after pushing through the crowd.
This, after locking the door behind me and lighting the single lamp in the room, I was still thinking. Why was a Bard asking about me?
I could be wrong. The waitress could have been really interested in what I had recently done. But her reaction and overacting at it had triggered my internal alarm. That led me to the Bard.
Publicity was something I did not want.
I kicked off my shoes and prepared for bed. It was looking mighty attractive to me, and I was soon going to be in its warm embrace. I was going to have a restless night no matter what. I snorted to myself. Let’s be honest and have three bad nights if I am lucky. Tomorrow I will go to the Adventurer’s Guild and wrap up my business with this quest from the City’s Watch.
I crawled into bed after extinguishing the lamp and tried to sleep.
Hylore – Seahold (Noreland Capital) Spring 2344 AS
Day 18
Dawn had arrived, and I glared at the weak sunlight coming through the shutters on my window.
The night was as bad as I feared. I slept fitfully when I was lucky. The grave chill kept me awake most of the night, and when I did sleep, I kept waking from dreams I could not remember, though they seemed to border on nightmares.
I was exhausted, and the cold still lingered. My head was heavier than the night before from lack of sleep, and whatever depression -like effects were sitting on it. I checked my character sheet and groaned at the number still next to the debuff. I had well over two more days to enjoy.
I am bed for another half hour, unable to move due to lack of will and mental energy. My body was still tired from the day before. There was a faint rumble from my stomach, half-hearted at best. Even my appetite was suppressed by the strange debuff and its effects.
Eventually, I pulled myself from bed, not because of an incredible drive to get to the Adventurer’s Guild, but because my bladder was now making sure I knew that it needed to be paid attention to. I got dressed and got on with my day.
Breakfast was as tasteless as the thick, meaty soup from last night. I was walking through the city streets, and soon after, heading into the merchant district. As I walked, I went over everything I needed to do in the next few days.
In two days, I will need to pay my rent. My gear was fully repaired, and what few items I needed to replace were already done. I was going to need more lantern oil. I picked that up today. I had a total of 39 silver coins to my name. I was not rich by any measure, and today’s quest payment would help immensely. I could have had far more, but my regular donations to the Temple of the Mother had drained all the bronze coins I had accumulated.
The trip to the Adventurer’s Guild was becoming muscle memory for me now. I didn’t pay as much attention to the route I was taking as I once did. Hardy looked at my internal map, even though it was set to the Adventurer’s Guild.
I was soon before the door, and I stepped in.
It was early in the day, and the room was empty apart from Irene at the desk at the back. I walked straight to her.
“Good day, Adventurer Hector.”
“Good day, receptionist Irene. I’m here to turn in the quest I took yesterday.”
“Excellent. Please place your hand on your when it lights up.” She began working on the device's keys before her, and a pale white light lit all.
I took a deep breath and placed my right hand upon it. There was a slight warm sensation to the touch as the orb suddenly turned a pale blue. A piece of paper shot from the device, and Irene scooped it up.
“All done, Adventurer Hector. Congratulations on another successful quest. Your awards are awaiting you in the system shop.”
“Thank you.” I turned and walked over to the silver cylinder.
It opened as I approached, and I stepped in. As soon as the door closed behind me, I placed my hand on the orb.
Reward is being calculated. Experience is being calculated.
Additional reward earned for killing above the required number of undead threats.
Reward: thirty gold coins.
Attention! System debt completion. System debt will reactivate in 8 days.
Attention! Level up detected.
Do you wish to accept these rewards?>
“Yes.”
I gained thirty gold and another level. The thirty gold, I was happy with, but the level I was not. This meant my system debt would increase, forcing me to take either more dangerous or lower-level quests. Lisa had a day's grace before I had to worry about that.
I opened my character sheet and fiddled with the settings. I removed the debuff so I could see the numbers cleanly. I assigned the point I earned from my level-up to my strength. I felt a surge of energy through my body when I signed the point. I didn’t feel any stronger, but I knew that the debuff was in play as well.
Character Sheet
Name: Hector
Avatars Age: 30
Level: 4
Titles: Summoned Crusader.
Eldritch Corruption: 0%
Health: 110/110
Stamina: 110/110
Mana: 100/100
Free Stat Points: 0
Stats
Dexterity: 10
Strength: 11(+)
Vitality: 11
Endurance: 11
Intelligence: 10
Wisdom: 10
Luck: 10
Spells
None
Skills
Weapons Skills
Pistols: 10%
Clubs: 25%
Crafting Skills
None
Magic Skills
None
General Skills
Identify: 13%
Brawling: 10%
Resistance (Black Rat Fever): 10%
Title Details
Summoned Crusader – An individual summoned to this world by the Gods to oppose the Void. Allows resurrection at temples, but at a cost. But know this, the People and Gods of Hylore are watching to see who you are.
I was starting to develop the good and bad. I found it funny that my resistance to Black Rat Fever was considered a skill, even though it was a passive one. I took a few moments to collect myself before stepping out again. The quest had promised me 25 gold coins, and I gained an extra five from killing the additional undead in the cemetery. Ultimately, it had been a very profitable trip for me, but I was dealing with its aftermath.
I had money now. Thankfully, my age had taught me not to spend recklessly and save whatever I could. This is still a policy I subscribe to. I nodded to Irene and left the Adventurer’s Guild.
I needed to buy some lantern oil. I also needed to pay my rent in advance. Three silver per day, and I had two days left fully paid. Fifteen gold coins were the equivalent of one hundred and 50 silver coins. That will cover the next 50 days of rent. Part of me was unhappy about separating myself from that much financial wealth, but I knew it was the best thing to do right now.
Time to go and make my landlady’s day.
“How did he look?” McGriff asked as Irene handed him the sheet of paper the machine had produced when Hector touched the orb.
“Pale and tired.” She answered.
“Completely understandable. Grave chill is a nasty side effect of fighting the undead you have to deal with.” He opened a folder on his desk and placed the sheet of paper on a small pile inside.
“Thank you, Irene.” She nodded her head and left the room, knowing she was dismissed.
As she closed the door, he began to read in earnest what the paper before him listed. Another completed quest with an additional reward bonus. He knew that was coming from Greystone, already informing him. Another level gained and confirmation of the status effect of grave chill. The one listed in Eldritch corruption was a mild concern, but as this was his first exposure to it, he should be able to put it quite quickly after a week of rest.
Adventurer Hector was now level 4. Not a meteoric rise for a new adventurer but a steady climb. The last quest has pushed him closer to level 5 after going well over four. McGriff leaned back in his chair. Yes, Hector was climbing the ranks at a steady pace.
The growing stack of completed quests before him was another indicator. Only one failed one was in the pile, but that had been amended because he had discovered an undead within the city limits and had eliminated it.
Gods! McGriff wished he had another ten like him.
He had run into the mad Alchemist Greyscale, who had thanked him for sending Hector to fulfil his quest so quickly. He was making great strides, he claimed, in finding a cure for Black Rat Fever. If the insane man confined to a cure for the disease, then it would be a great boon to the city. If you can find a way to mass-produce it cheaply, everyone would benefit.
McGriff went through the pile of papers again, but he already knew the answer to the question he was asking himself—nothing outside of Low Town.
McGriff snorted out the irony of one of the most prolific adventurers in the city, at the moment, only operating in the city slums. It wouldn’t be long before the higher-ups in the Cities Watch and nobility took notice of him. Greystone was running as much interference as he could, but there was only so much he could do.
McGriff was curious about his new adventurer and had done some digging. No record of him entering the city or being born here. That was not unusual. No record of any training or military service either. That was strange. Most adventurers had gone through some training or military service before taking up the profession.
He had found out that Hector often donated to the Temple of the Mother in Low Town. Charity was a noble virtue which he thoroughly approved of. Hector never donated large amounts; it seemed only bronze coins, but every little bit helped when it came to the orphans of the city.
He knew House Mother Hendricks. It had been a few years since you last saw her, so he decided to pop in as a visitor yesterday when Hector was in the cemetery. He trusted in the new adventurer to survive the quest he was on. He needed to know more about the man he was dealing with.
It was here that things took a twist that he did not foresee. She had seen him, of course, due to their long history together. After a few moments of polite conversation and tea, he asked the question he wanted about Adventurer Hector.
Her reaction was not what he expected. She had gone silent and guarded and said a bizarre thing to him, which he couldn’t get out of his head.
“When it comes to Adventurer Hector. The Mother sees his generosity and hard work. All you need to know is that he is exactly where he needs to be.”
What did she mean by that?
McGriff leaned back in his chair, thinking. There was something he was missing here, something important. But by all the gods, he did not know what it was, and that irked him.