TQG 55

“What do you mean, you can’t read it?” I asked, my voice full of anguish and despair.

“I mean it might as well be written in ancient hieroglyphics,” Zimmer answered, still holding the parchment that I had spent ten minutes writing.  “I’d say Greek, but I actually know a little bit of Greek.  My grandparents are from Crete.  So that would make more sense than the language that you natives use when the system isn’t translating for you, and you know that it doesn’t translate documents like this.  I’d have to screenshot it and submit it to one of the translation indexes, but if I do that it will probably leak.  I suppose that doesn’t matter since we’re supposed to be announcing it anyway, but it would probably be faster if you just told us what to say.”

I looked down at my hand, still suffering from a [Writer’s Cramp], and thought of the two dozen copies I had made.  It had taken me an hour and a half, and I could still feel the quill biting into my fingers.  For nothing.

“I could have just sent a message in guild chat,” I lamented.

“No, I don’t think so,” Zimmer answered, seemingly oblivious to my despair.  “I didn’t actually get a quest until you handed me this paper.  I think that we need a quest item to make it official.”

That actually cheered me up slightly, but then the damn Traveler had to follow it up with “But you probably could have gotten away with just stamping a sheet of paper with your personal seal and telling us what to say.”

I facepalmed.  So much time and effort wasted.  I looked over to Tarisha.

“Why did you let me make so many copies?” I demanded.

“We don’t actually know that you didn’t need to,” she pointed out.  “A stamped sheet of paper might not have cut it for the system to consider it a proper quest item.”

Annoyed, I took my seal and stamped a blank piece of paper with it, then stepped out of Daemon’s office and handed it to the next player waiting in line.

“Go and spread the word that Hail Jeoran has no interest in becoming the next king, and that he renounces any and all claims to the throne,” I told her.

“Alright!  Quest accepted,” she said, leaving with the paper before the ink was even dry.  I facepalmed again.  Which aggravated my [Wrist Cramp], but I was too frustrated to care.

“Okay, so I didn’t think of it in time,” Tarisha admitted.  “Sorry, Hail.”

“Twenty-four copies,” I whispered.  “And I didn’t need to write any of them.  I could have just—dammit!”

“It’s not the end of the world,” Tarisha assured me.  “So you wasted some time and effort, but on the other hand, what happens if a Native asks to read your proclamation?  Sure, we can’t read it, but any native can, right?”

“Not really,” I admitted.  “Only one in five adults can actually read.  Literacy isn’t that high in Yuikon.  There’s a reason why we still use criers instead of the printing presses you Travelers helped us design.  Although I suppose it’s not a good idea to be passing around blank paper with my seal upon it; someone could use it to put words in my mouth that I never meant to say.  In fact, Tarisha, would you mind getting that back for me?  Take one of these worthless copies with you to exchange it for the blank one.”

“Of course, I’ll return directly.”

Tarisha left the room at a jog, although unless they activated their [Fast Travel], the player was unlikely to have gotten far.

“So, is it cool if I upload this to the translation indexes?” Zimmer inquired.  “I mean, I won’t do it if you say no, but I’m kind of curious what it actually--”

“Do whatever you want with it.  You were supposed to read it anyway,” I said.  “It’s not meant to be a secret.”

“Right,” he said.  “Anyway, I’m going to go.  Thanks for the quest.”

“Tell the next group to come in to get their quests as you leave,” I told him, and he did just that.  Tarisha returned moments after I had finished handing out quests, and I sighed.

“Let’s go practice,” I suggested.  “It feels like I’ve done nothing but write and hear bad news since I returned.  I want to hit something.”

I studied her for a moment, then reconsidered.  “Actually, maybe I should get a practice partner more on my level.  I’m still getting used to my new body, and you’ll just wipe the floor with me.”

~~~~~~~~

My opponent was a level thirty-two swordsman.  His name was Corinth, and he had joined the guild while I was away.  He had logged in just a few minutes too late to be one of the criers, but he had jumped at the chance to be my opponent and was thrilled to have finally met me.

He was actually very skilled; he had only recently quit playing Blade’s Edge to come to this world.  He’d never made it to ‘endgame’ in that other reality, but he’d gotten quite skilled with a sword.  More importantly, he used a form which I had never seen before, making it that much more of a challenge to fight him.

Because we were nearly equal in levels, we were both using training swords, and I was avoiding my magic in order to truly practice my swordsmanship.  I could have used magic without killing him accidentally, as the practice sword would limit my damage while it was equipped whether I actually used it to inflict damage, or if I used my magical abilities instead.  My magic, however, had not been impacted by my growth spurt, and I still felt confident in those abilities.

Back and forth we fenced, me using a rapier, him a bastard sword, each giving as good as we got.  We were sweating and grinning and having a great time when he announced “Oh hey, I just got [Mark of Karma]!” and I took the opportunity to decapitate him.  Or, at least the blow would have inflicted that critical wound were it not a training sword.  Instead it simply passed through his neck and did one damage.

“Congratulations.  You’re dead,” I teased him.

“Yeah yeah.  Seriously though, thanks.  Do all of your training partners get the mark?” he inquired.

“I’m not certain,” I admitted.  “Maybe?  I think it goes off of reputation; once you reach a certain point you earn the mark.  You got a quest to be my training partner, right?  You have probably been earning reputation over time and just passed the threshold.  Or maybe I’m completely wrong and the system that governs this world just does it randomly.”
“Well, either way, thanks.  The experience boost is nothing to sneeze at, it will make the rest of my game time much smoother.  Now come on, let’s keep going,” he said, and he picked up his guard stance.  I grinned, and took up a stance of my own.

As we fought, I began to forget that I had grown almost a foot.  I stopped thinking about what had been done to my grandfather and my uncles.  I stopped worrying about my mother and my unborn brother over in Eolstree.  I didn’t worry about the intrigue or the succession.  I focused on the fight.  On blocking Corinth’s strikes while inflicting my own.  On the exercise, and the thrill of sparring.  The little mosquito bites of minus one health blows came in droves, but I gave as good as I got.

We had been fighting for perhaps an hour when Malkios, Tarisha, and Daemon came rushing down to the basement, their faces grim.  Corinth and I both saw them, and mutually ended the combat.

“What is it now?” I asked, sighing.

“Lord Hail,” Tarisha said, “Your messengers, and the criers, they’re being arrested en mass.  The ones who resist are being killed.”

“What?!  Tell them not to resist!” I cried, then I quickly pulled up guildchat.

(sorry if this part is a little wonky due to Patreon not supporting tables)

Hail

Guys, do not die over the quest I gave you, it’s not worth it!

Wesle

They’re demanding our papers, Hail.  Should we hand them over?

Hail

Oh.  Um, if you have the crier quest, then yes.  Hand it over.  If you’re a messenger, then keep it in your inventory.  Tell them that it’s diplomatic communication and that you’re not authorized to release it to anyone but the intended recipient an inquisitor appointed by the king himself.

Subtleghost

Um, but there isn’t a king at the moment.

Weaselfire

They haven’t been killing us unless we try to escape.  They really want our papers, and they know that they can’t get them from us if they just kill us.

Hail

I know about the king situation, Subtleghost, but it will hopefully stop them from killing you until I figure out what’s going on.  I’m really sorry everyone who got arrested for the messenger quest.  I’ll try to figure out how to get you out of jail as soon as I can, okay?

Birdie

Don’t feel too bad Hail.  The quest actually updates after you get arrested.  Messengers don’t fail the quest unless they turn over the time, and according to the update, we get increased rewards for doing time in the clink.  It hints that there might be some sort of other role play options as a prisoner.  This is another opportunity guys!  Let’s go to jail!

Hail

I – um, okay.  Just don’t get killed okay?

Nerfme

Momma always said I’d wind up in prison one of these days.

Hail

Um, who had the quest to go to my uncle again?  Did you complete it already?

Kikrock

That was me.  I was waiting in the servant’s quarters when the guards broke in and arrested me.  I still have the letter.

I shook my head as I closed the chat window.  “One of my uncles must be behind this.  It’s probably Storm, but I don’t know for certain.  And since my letter to him was intercepted, I have the perfect excuse to go find out.  Would you like to come with me?”

“Quest accepted!” Corinth said eagerly.  I glanced at him in surprise, since I hadn’t been expecting him to receive the quest, but I didn’t object.

“Of course, Lord Hail,” Tarisha agreed.

“Me as well,” Daemon said.

“Let me fetch Lady Gwen and Lord Tom,” Malkios said, jogging out of the room.  “We shall meet you at your Uncle’s estate in thirty minutes!”

I ground my teeth in frustration, debating what to do now.  “I will go and freshen myself.  My Uncle will be insulted if I appear looking and smelling like this.  Give me twenty minutes.  After that, I shall have to Fast Travel to the eastern districts in order to arrive in time.”

“Corinth, run ahead of us and hire a carriage.  The grandest one you can find.” Tarisha suggested.  “I’ll arrange for a guard from <Peasant’s Revenge> to meet us at the nexus point.  We shall march alongside the carriage as your honor guard, Lord Hail.”

“Um, I actually only have like three gold at the moment,” Corinth admitted.  “I mean, I don’t know what a carriage costs and I’m happy to--”

“Here,” I said, tossing him twenty gold.  “As Tarisha said, the grandest you can find.  If they ask for more than that, tell him that his mother was a goblin and his father’s breath smells of turpentine, because that’s ten times what he deserves.”

“Oh, um, thanks.  The quest just updated, and it’s got a tight timer, so I’m going to go now,” Corinth said, and he vanished into motes of blue light.

“You should hurry too, Lord Hail,” Tarisha said, her eyes staring off into space at a private screen as she tapped the air on her holographic keyboard.  “I’ll meet you there after I coordinate with my guild.”

“Right,” I agreed, and I jogged up to the office which had been converted into my bedroom to quickly wash with a basin of soapy water – the same that I had used to mostly remove the ink from my face – and to change out of my adventurer’s garb and into something suitable for court.  I actually used the system to equip it simply due to time constraints.  I even applied a light dose of cologne, as I had noticed that I had developed body odor.  Another frustrating aspect of instantaneous puberty.

After a moment’s debate, I decided to leave my [Gemos Longsword] proudly equipped at my side rather than stashing it in my inventory.  It would take about the same time to draw it as to pull it out of [Storage], but as an Earl, it suited my rank to wear it almost everywhere except in the presence of a foreign monarch.

Dressed in blue, silver and black, I examined myself in the mirror for a moment.  My hair was still damp from sweat, but I brushed it into place as best I could.  Deciding that it was the best that I could do alone and with the time constraints I was under, I Fast Traveled to my destination.