Published: April 25th 2025, 2:01:05 pm
72 Years after Elaine became a professor at the School of Sorcery and Spellcraft
The wagon’s axle was slightly warped. I wasn’t terribly surprised, given how it had broken and we’d needed to replace it, but it made the wagon shift just a tiny bit along the forest ‘road’. Road was an extremely generous term for the root-riddled dirt path through the forest, but that’s how the [Merchant] was earning the big bucks with her caravan.
And how she could afford to pay so many [Adventurers] to beef up her usual [Caravan Guards]. The particular stretch we were going through was dangerous for the average sub-500 mortal.
I was sitting cross-legged on top of said rickety wagon, acting as the rearguard, and working on my Heal rune project. Endless stacks of notes were stashed away in [Manor], along with a very special quest we’d gotten. I was muttering curses over the part of the runes I was working on.
Biochemistry.
Decades of work, and I felt like I’d barely scratched the surface of what this rune needed. No wonder nobody else had managed to pull it off, it was a damn nightmare.
I shifted my weight and prepared to leap off the wagon as the axle flexed over a particularly gnarly root. The skills involved helped keep it together, and I kept working on my papers.
“Dawn! You need to get down from there if you want to eat!” Iona called out.
“Ugh. Do I have to?” I half-whined. Restricting myself from [Teleportation] and most of my third class goodies was such a pain at times. Mostly because I’d gotten used to being able to manipulate the entire world around me with just a thought.
“Yes!” Iona shouted back, a half-smiling as she knew exactly what I was doing, who I was needling.
Annnd the ‘spoiled young miss’ looks were back. Of course I was complaining about needing to come down because I usually had my meals brought to me. Iona and I had a good giggle about how often I pulled that particular trick on different groups, just like we laughed when Iona did her ‘blind archer aiming wildly’ shtick. Constantly pairing up with different groups let us run the prank time and time again, and it wasn’t like we were sticking in a single region and people got familiar with us. The whole point of adventuring around was to see the entire world. In Iona’s words, to hike every trail.
I hopped down and jogged over to the stew wagon, for lack of a better term. Why stop for lunch or slow down for breakfast, when it can be made mobile? The more hours we could move, the faster we got there, the larger the [Caravan Master’s] profits. Skills were wonderful things, and speaking of…
“Important Adventurer B! My favorite! What are you cooking, it smells simply divine!”
I knew exactly what he was cooking, overtuned nose and all that. But I operated on simple logic. A few happy compliments, and my favorite meals were in rotation more often than not. It had taken me long enough, but Iona had taught me well.
“I’m your favorite, am I?” He good naturedly groused. “Then how come I’m not Important Adventurer A?”
I waved off the comment.
“Important Adventurer A was a good friend of ours for a week a year ago. I wouldn’t want to taint his memory by so readily handing out his designation again.”
Important Adventurer B laughed, but some of the other [Adventurers] were giving me dirty looks. Iona was silently busting a gut. Glad I was good entertainment. Fungible Adventurer G in particular looked like he was contemplating if he could murder me in my sleep.
Silently, Iona and I both slowly turned our heads to stare at him in sync. We waited a heartbeat, and at exactly the same time, tilted our heads the same way. We smiled.
“Yes? Can we help you?” We said in sync.
Then I started laughing at the look of sheer horror on his face, and Iona joined in a moment later. I grabbed a bowl of stew, noting the slightly larger helping and a nice dosing of hot spices. There were benefits to traveling with a good [Caravan Leader] who knew how to take care of her people.
Then I put it down, half eaten, and sighed.
“Time to earn my pay.” I said.
“Backup?” Iona asked.
“Please.” I accepted without hesitation. “Gotta show the Fungibles how it’s done.”
“Ooooh, she’s talking a big game now.” Fungible Adventurer… C? I think? Said. “Going to back all that talk with something? Well, don’t come crying to us ‘Fungibles’ when you end up in deep shit.”
I bared my teeth at the man, then went entirely invisible. Iona didn’t want to use a rune of mine, instead working on her stealth skills. I wanted to say it was a skill of hers, but no, it was raw talent and practice that let her virtually melt into the woods. Over 300 lbs of armor and muscle shouldn’t be that stealthy!
I didn’t use [Teleportation], or any fancy skills. It would be too easy to beat up the bandits. Almost to the point where Iona’s ‘defend the meek’ might kick in and she might have to defend them from me. Fortunately, she took the position that anyone trying to beat other people up wasn’t ‘meek’ by definition… and it was no fun just beating up the bandits.
No, the proper way was to style on them.
Iona and I stealthed through the woods, hopping from branch to branch, from leaf to twig. We were abusing our dexterity a little, but it was going to be totally worth it. The bandits were oblivious, and I slipped arrows out of quivers, swords out of sheaths, and undid belt buckles. I didn’t store any of it, letting the challenge of carrying more and more equipment add difficulty.
Iona was doing much the same work, with the added twist of carefully putting their hats on backwards.
Lucky woman, she managed to encounter the two bandits with actual shoelaces. She tied them together.
We managed to sneak back to the caravan with the bandits none the wiser, and I shimmered back into visibility right behind the [Caravan Master].
“Presents for you!” I cheerfully told the woman as I dropped a small armory at her feet. She flinched a bit at our sudden appearance, but otherwise kept her cool.
“We’re paying for ourselves at this rate.” Iona joked as she added her own haul to the pile. I eyed them and groaned.
“You win this time.” I said. Iona flashed me a grin.
“Where did all this come from?” The [Caravan Master] asked.
I held up a finger.
Nothing happened. Iona rolled her blindfolded eyes.
“Dawn, you forget how fast we are. Dramatic timing doesn’t work like that.” She said, then started explaining. “Bandits up ahead. We’ve disarmed them. I’m not sure they noticed. It should be entertaining.”
Entertaining didn’t cover half of it. When the first bandit jumped out and his pants fell down, we all just sort of stared for a moment. Two more tripping added to the comedy, as a full quarter of the bandits were stupid enough to charge, one hand holding up their pants, waving the weapons they’d been holding.
The rest of them were smart enough to notice they’d been robbed blind and screwed over before the ambush, and melted back into the woods. The dumber ones were funnier, and we spent a few seconds laughing at them before Iona took charge of the situation, and kicked them back into the woods.
“Why’d you do that?” The merchant leader asked Iona as we got back on the trail. The Valkyrie nodded towards me.
“The situation was too far tilted for my wife, and it would’ve gotten ugly if we tried to kill them then and there.”
The merchant gave Iona a speculative look, and hefted one of the many little purses she always had around her belt.
“Would there be an objection to hiring you for an extra bandit extermination mission?”
Iona glanced at me, and I didn’t shake my head, knowing I was possibly condemning men to die. Men who had chosen violence as their trade.
I did a good amount of thinking that evening, first nestled up to Iona, then alone, as she slipped into the woods with bared steel.
I knew she’d give them a chance. I knew she’d do a bit of investigation and legwork, to try and determine the root cause of the problem, and see if she could turn them from their current course of action. It wasn’t quite the same as bandits who’d taken over a village and started to build fortifications, the potential start of government. Bandits who came from the trees and melted back into them tended to have a vicious taste for the trade.
Still, Iona would try diplomacy before she’d resort to the blade.
After all these years, it was still difficult to accept the necessity. At the same time, I comforted myself with the sharp agony of the decision. The day I casually dismissed any life, the day I was ready to easily murder, would be the day I’d gone too far.
I slept both fitfully, and with a clear conscience.
========
“Winterhold!” Iona pointed, and my mind flashed to the very special quest we had.
“Should we get right to it?” I proposed. Iona was shaking her head before I was done.
“Nope!” She said. “We are at the end of a quest. I want a good night’s sleep in [Manor], in our bed, with hot food and a warm bath. None of these ratty taverns with breakable beds and watered down beer. Tonight, we luxuriate in style!”
I snorted at the memory. Iona and I hadn’t been stressing the bed at all.
Iona hadn’t even gotten close to the bed.
I sat on it, and the rotten thing had fallen apart, nearly taking me with it. Honestly, it was some sort of miracle that had kept it in one piece so long. Or a rival [Innkeeper] used a Decay skill to sabotage the competition.
Private Weyevern Fenrir had gotten on the case, and unraveled a vast conspiracy from the [Mayor] all the way down to a gang of plucky singing orphans… and not one string on the vast corkboard had tied in any way back to how our bed had gotten so horribly rotten.
Focus.
We went past the gates with the rest of the caravan, paying our individual taxes. Because we were proving that it was possible to be an adventurer, and still obey the law. Unlike most of them. The guards at the gate were all wearing gloves… actually, almost everyone here was wearing gloves. Interesting little cultural quirk, one that I hadn’t seen in any of my books.
I happily opened up [Manor] against a wall, we slipped inside, and ten hours of eating, bathing, games, reading, and cuddling later, we were ready to start discussing our next quest.
Right as night was falling, of course. We were sitting among the devastated remains of a four course meal, sipping our drinks. By Ciriel, it was good to be home.
I unfurled the quest scroll, smiling at the client’s name.
“She had to have known we were doing this, right?” I asked Iona.
“Oh yeah. I’m going to flick her ears so hard when I next see Nina. Passing off a quest and not saying hi? That’s as bad as Arachne leaving us a letter!” She complained.
“Terrible operational security to use her real name as well.” I commented. Iona rolled her eyes.
“Please. Like she ever uses her real name, how are they going to tie anything back to her?”
I snorted.
“Or they just asked directly what her name was, and didn’t accept her usual cloak and dagger answer of ‘some call me Jane’, and you know her curse.”
Iona barked a laugh and took a swing of her mug.
“That’s also true! I can just imagine a receptionist with absolutely no sense of humor not letting Nina get away with anything.”
I chuckled at the image.
S-Ranked Quest
Retrieve Lord Sylas to face justice
Client: Nina
Reward: 8,000 arcs
Main Objective: Lord Sylas is wanted by Count Cunningway to face trial. Please bring Lord Sylas to Cunningford with all due haste.
Bonus Objective: Secure additional documents proving Lord Sylas’s crimes.
“The reward though… bleh.” I pulled a face.
“Eh, we’re not doing it for the reward.” Iona said. “Plus, it’s not like it’s a sketchy quest like ‘kidnap this girl.’ Nina’s vetted it, we know it’s good.”
I shuddered at the memory.
“Why did you have to remind me of that?” I complained, taking a dainty sip. A thousand and twenty four blessings on the genius who made mango wine. “Now I just feel awful.”
“Better now than mid mission.” Iona pointed out. “We can still bail, we’ve got no real dog in this fight.”
I shook my head.
“No, you’re right. Nina’s vetted it. Either we do it peacefully, or his poor lady wife is going to wake up one day with a decapitated body next to her.”
Iona took another big drink, wiping her mouth with the back of her sleeve.
“If she does, you know she’ll deserve it.” She pointed out.
“True. Alright, how are we handling this?” I asked. “Plus, what skills are we using, what are our restrictions? I’m thinking of skipping on all my Spatial skills and [The World Around Me], along with the Radiance skills. Keep it a challenge.”
“I’m not going to use my [Tracking] skill.” Iona said. “And… well, frankly, almost everything. Just [Silver Tongue].”
That was practically the same thing as cheating, but could also be entertaining, and that was the real goal.
“Well, first we need to check out the place. Good intelligence and all that. Then…”
==========
[Guardsman] Kevin was likeable in some ways, but had a gambling problem.
“Why is it always a gambling problem?” I’d asked when trying to plan the mission out. “For once, can it be a drinking problem, or brothels, or some other vice?”
Iona’s contribution of waggled eyebrows hadn’t helped with the mission planning at all.
It did make our entrance to the castle much easier. Iona whispered with the guard for 44 seconds, passed over a pouch, and just like that, we were in. Dressed like servants, nobody gave us a second look as we walked through the castle, each of us holding a large laundry basket. Of course, we had to go into most rooms to pick up anything that had been dropped, and the one time we were confronted, Iona neatly talked us out of trouble.
I wasn’t sure if it was her infamous silver tongue or pure intimidation, but it worked. I peeked into a room, and my eyes widened.
“The solar.” I whispered. “Documents should be here.”
We entered the room and didn’t bother reading through things, simply grabbing files and stuffing them into the bottom of the laundry basket.
Naturally, that’s when Lord Sylas himself burst into the room.
“Thieves!” He shouted. “Guards! Get them!”
Iona and I traded a quick look, and sprang into action. Plan ‘Diced Mangos’ it was!
Iona grabbed a frilly dress from the top of the hamper and quickly tied Lord Sylas up, stuffing the frilly arms into his mouth as a gag. At the same time, I lit the nicest piece of clothing I could find - it was some noble’s, a servant’s ratty clothes might be the only thing they owned - on fire and laid it across the window, being super careful that there was nothing else flammable nearby. We wanted a stalling distraction, we didn’t want to burn the place down!
Iona hoisted a protesting Sylas over one shoulder, ran across the room, and jumped through the burning window feet-first.
And down five stories.
I followed a moment later, and the two of us sprinted across the courtyard, just barely making it through the actual portcullis a moment before the alarm was raised. Having successfully secured the lord, I opened up my [Manor] and we all entered.
“Hi! Sylas!” Iona cheerfully told the man, who was starting to pale. He recognized the telltale signs of a pocket dimension, and had some idea of just how much power and what kind of levels we had to have to pull it off. “I’m Iona! You’re a wanted man. Now, the easy way is you stay right here. We’ve got a nice suite with all the amenities. Bed, bathroom, living room. Books in various languages, prepared meals, snacks, a lovely bed, the works! You promise to behave, you get carted around in the seat of luxury.”
“And if I say no?” He asked.
“Oh, then I sling you over one shoulder and we run all the way to our destination. Very bumpy, very uncomfortable, gag in your mouth the entire way, I don’t recommend it.” Iona’s positive glee over the idea broke Sylas’s resistance, and his shoulders slumped in defeat.
We left the [Manor] a minute later, dressed in our adventurer outfits, and strolled right out of town, making sure to pay our exit fee.
Because I was a law abiding [Adventurer].