Chapter 24: Quest! Start! …What?

Room 204, Pathfinder’s Inn…

A cozy room housed two individuals, one relaxed and the other as nonchalant as possible.

The inn hosted an evening spring for all to relax and enjoy. The hot spring was separated into three different time slots: one for men, one for women, and one for cleaning. Pontiff, in a white bathrobe, casually read a book at his leisure on a seat next to a desk. He flipped through pages of a book titled, “Recovery: Mind and Body,” occasionally nodding every once in a while. Priscilla laid comfortably on the bed with a white towel wrapped around her hair, bundling it up and drying it. Her gaze fell onto the royal-blue card in her hand, smiling ever-so-slightly at the wonders of its fortune.

“With this, I should be able to pay rent for the next few weeks.” Priscilla slightly graced the card with her lips. “What to buy… what to buy? Hey, what are you going to spend on with your share of the money?”

Pontiff closed his book and looked up. “A new scalpel and medical ingredients. I don’t have to pay for lodging thanks to my relationship with the Temple of Glioca, so I’ll be using this money for practical purposes. Speaking of which, how’s your medicine holding up?”

“I still have a few usages left, so I should be good.” Priscilla assured.

“Is that so…” Pontiff questioned. “I’ll be visiting Dr. Mav soon, and I can try to create another vial with his help. Although my version won’t be as high-quality as his, but in time I’m sure I can replicate the medicine.”

“Oh, don’t waste your money on something as silly as that.” Priscilla laughed. “We don’t even know how much it cost to make it. Just spend the money on yourself; buy something good like one of those sweet tarts sold at Shiny Teeth & Me.”

“Silly?” Pontiff thought that was a strange way to describe her medication.

“Don’t worry too much about it.” Priscilla brushed the topic off. “Anyway, there sure are a lot of Guards and soldiers moving about. The bank, the roads, and even the inn had an awful amount of soldiers patrolling nearby.”

“Remember that post on the bulletin board?” Pontiff recalled. “There was a wanted poster for a person wearing a black hood and black robe. It’s a possibility that all of this is related to that person.”

“Mobilizing all these soldiers and Guards for one person?” Priscilla asked in disbelief. “What are they trying to do, take down a monster?”

“Maybe.” Pontiff shook his head. “I don’t recall seeing this much activity from the city’s militia ever since we got here.”

A strong knock came from the door, followed by a masculine voice, “Excuse me. If you’re an adventurer, please come to the lobby.”

That same voice resounded once again as the person knocked on the next door with the same message, and once more but fainter on the door after. A commotion kicked off as everyone who heard the message wondered what was going on. They left their rooms and proceeded down a level from the second floor.

“Should we check it out?” Pontiff asked.

“Let’s go.” Priscilla smiled.

A crowd gathered at the lobby of the inn, near the check-in line that stretched throughout the door.

A man stood in front of the rowdy crowd, dressed in the most protective armor seen yet. Just by looking at his stature, it was obvious that he was a cut above from the rest. Both shoulder-pads had a beautiful mermaid carved from its metal. His knee-pads had two mysterious fish that swam towards each other. A protective helmet rested on his head, resembling a temple of ocean. Last, but not least, was his sea-ocean halberd that reached 6-foot tall, up to his eyes.

Next to that man was a white-hair silent beauty. Her white hair may scream of knowledge and wisdom, but her face was that of a young woman. Strangely enough, viewing her from her side would only revealed her white hair, but if seen from the front, then strands of red hair were clearly visible. In contrast to the man next to her, she didn’t have an intimidating posture nor were there any well-crafted armor on her. All she wore was an exquisite blue nightgown.

A burly man fought his way through the crowd and finally made his way to the front. Packs of muscles popped with every fiber of his soul. His shirt screamed of helplessness, seemingly about to rip apart at a moment’s notice.

“I’ve asked for everyone on the first floor to fifth floor, my lady.” The burly man politely informed.

“Nurdock, begin.” The lady commanded, and everyone fell silent upon hearing her mysterious, unfitting voice. It was strong, yet gentle, nothing like her face which was more solemn, yet attractive.

“Yes, as you wish.” Nurdock, the man with halberd, nodded.

Pontiff and Priscilla scooched off to the side, avoiding the shoulder-to-shoulder crowd as much as possible. Their view wasn’t great; the scene from the second floor would be better than trying to peek through the tall adventurers around them. There was a slit path off to the side, barely enough to show the burly man, the white-hair woman, and the halberd-wielder. But being this close allowed their ears to do most of the work.

“Wow. She’s beautiful.” Priscilla commented.

“Do you know them?” Pontiff asked.

“Not a clue, but the guy next to her looks really strong.” Priscilla said.

“Adventurers, mercenaries, whatever you may be.” Nurdock addressed. “We are from one of the Greater Guild, Atlantis, here to issue a new quest for everyone here.”

The silent crowd exploded into a burst of commotion. The thought of a new quest to accomplish was riveting, but what really grabbed their attention was the speaker’s background. The Greater Guilds all had their home base stationed far away from Mileth City, so seeing one in person was a complete shock. Stories of the Greater Guilds piled up, and they all waited in anticipation to see if those stories were true.

“Quiet.” Nurdock tapped the floor with his halberd.

And on command, the crowd diminished into silence.

“I’m sure many of you have seen the post on the bulletin board concerning a criminal.” The burly man presented Nurdock a piece of paper, and Nurdock held it high for all to see. “Our quest is simple: find the whereabouts of the criminal and immediately report it to us. The reward: 1000 gold coins to the person who first find them.”

Priscilla looked at Pontiff, mouth agape with wonder.

“1000 gold coins!” Priscilla squealed with delight. “I can buy a house with that much money!”

“Not just a house, but a Mileth house.” Pontiff commented. “I believe that they’re being sold for 500 gold coins minimum.”

“1000 gold coins for information?” A seasoned mercenary scoffed. “I’d pay you 1000 gold coins to not waste my time.”

“Same here.” Another veteran commented. “And here I thought the reward would be something big, especially when the request came from a Greater Guild.”

Their unsatisfied mouths sparked an uproar from the spectators. People began shouting and shooing them away. ‘If you don’t want the rewards, then leave,’ was their main argument. But the opposing party argued back that it wasn’t worth anyone’s time. Spending an entire day of hunting could net more profit than spending an entire day of searching for a particular person. The rowdy crowd made the inn manager nervous, thinking that somehow these barbaric hunters could suddenly start a brawl.

“One-thousand gold coins to the one who first finds them.” Nurdock repeated in an overbearing voice. “Fifty-thousand gold coins to the one who brings us their dead body.”

The crowd grew silent once more. Their ears perked upon hearing 50,000 gold coins coming from Nurdock’s mouth. The thought of the reward multiplying by 50 took them all by surprise. A few more thousands would’ve been enough to satisfy the veterans. But that wasn’t the end. They all had their heart strings tugged when they saw Nurdock opened his mouth again. Staring at his mouth and watching it open signaled their greed to advance to a new level.

“One-hundred-thousand gold coins to the one who brings us the Priestess of Sgrios, alive.” Nurdock spoke the words that no one expected, yet everyone wanted to hear.

100,000 gold coins! The crowd roared and cheered, unable to contain themselves. They expected nothing, and out of nowhere came a reward that none of them could ignore. Priscilla took deep breaths, inhaling and exhaling slowly to calm her thoughts. But screw it, she couldn’t do it. Just the mere thought of one-hundred-thousand gold coins made her shout with joy, joining the other random adventurers in a celebration of a new quest.

“Hey, you got to give us more details than ‘black hood and black robe.’” Priscilla shouted with utmost energy.

“Yeah! What the cutie said!” An adventurer reinforced her position.

“More details! More details!” The crowd began to chant in unison, filling the entire inn with a roaring voice.

The residents of the inn grew annoyed by the sudden uproar. They hauled their complaints at the manager, and he grew nervous. The manager gestured towards the lady, urging her to somehow quell their voices. His pleading eyes were a sad sight to see, like he was losing money as the seconds ran by.

“I believe we’ve told you.” The lady closed her eyes and smiled. “Look for a Priestess of Sgrios wearing a black hood and black robe. This is Mileth City, the hometown of the worshippers of Glioca, yes? I’d imagine that finding a priestess with the brand of Sgrios wouldn’t be hard.”

“What if we bring you someone that matches the descriptions but isn’t the one you’re looking for?” Priscilla asked.

Everyone was worried, too. The thought of working hard all day and not being rewarded was a scary thought for all of them.

“That’s fine.” The lady yawned. “Bring me all of the Priestess of Sgrios that you can find. It doesn’t matter whether they are the one we’re looking for; the person to bring me any Priestess of Sgrios will be compensated.”

The adventurers happily lined up and received a white mark of the Atlantis guild, signifying their temporary relationship. The adventurers at the front of the line were eager and ready to go. The ones at the back were envious of the ones at the front. In a competitive race, the ones who goes first would be at an advantage.

Pontiff quickly pulled Priscilla out of the line. “Wait. I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Right?” Priscilla smiled. “It’s a great idea!”

“This sounds too good to be true.” Pontiff said. “Maybe there’s something we’re not being told.”

“Shh!” Priscilla hushed. “Don’t think; feel! My guts are telling me to do this. We do this, and we’re on a fast track to being rich!”

“Aren’t you concern that something bad will happen during this search?” Pontiff persistently asked.

“For someone who doesn’t show any emotions, you’re awfully worried about this.” Priscilla commented. “Besides, I’m more worried that you’ll stop me if anything. Even if there is danger, so what? If we walk away now, then we’ll be sleeping tonight knowing that we could’ve potentially earned 100,000 gold coins. Can you live life like that? Can you live with yourself, knowing that you just threw 100,000 gold coins away? Can you?”

“Sure I can. But fine.” Pontiff gave up. “Have it your way.”

“I knew you would understand.” Priscilla smiled and got back in line.

***

8th Floor of Mileth Crypt…

Morr walked first, followed by Gratt. The distance between them subtly grew bigger and bigger as Gratt became uncomfortable with the environment. Eyes darted back and forth at the cold, stone walls that surrounded him. It was quiet and empty. There was someone else down here with him, Morr, but he much preferred that he was alone. The more steps taken deeper into the 8th floor, the more anxious he became.

The T-shape corridor that they were in continuously branched off into multiple paths. Darkness was more present than before with the scarcity of torches on this floor. Staring at Morr’s back was like looking at a disembodied head. The black cape hid his body so well within the darkness that sometimes it was hard to keep track of him.

Every single time Morr took a turn at a corner Gratt felt his heart skipped a beat. The moment when Morr left his eyes was the moment that he was scared the most. Not because of the dangers lurking within the 8th floor, but because he didn’t have vision of this young man he shortly grown to be fearful of.

Gratt turned a corner and there he was… Morr was smiling at him, one foot in front of his face.

“Agh!” Gratt screamed and jumped back. “W-what is it?”

“You were lagging behind, so I thought something was wrong.” Morr examined Gratt’s body.

“N-no… I’m fine.” Gratt hesitantly assured.

“Oh. I see.” Morr nodded. “Good.”

They continued onwards with Morr leading the way. The corridors they’ve walked through had all been empty. Even the open rooms were empty; not a single monster had been caught in sight. This floor in particular had its temperature noticeably dropped in comparison to the 7th floor. Morr observed that, as they descended every floor, the monsters and temperature would worsen. But this floor was as if they’ve jumped from the 1st floor to the 5th floor in terms of temperature. Oddly enough, no monsters were seen thus far.

As they walked into another open room, Gratt quickly examined it in hopes to find his missing sword. However, this was the fourth open room they’ve searched and not a single trace of his sword was found. His hopes slowly became tainted with the color of despair. Deep down in his heart, he really hoped that this would be his final trip in search of his sword. But the more rooms they’ve searched, the less hopeful he became.

“Would anyone miss you if you were gone?” Morr suddenly asked.

“Of course. My brother, Roen, would definitely--“

Just then, Gratt snapped his head to a disembodied voice. Something was missing… or rather someone was missing. Morr wasn’t in this room, but only a few seconds had passed since he last saw him. He took his eyes off of him to search the room, and just like that, the creeping horror clutched his soul. With his hand on the hilt of his claidhmore, he took small steps out of the room.

“Hey… where did you go?” Gratt shouted, hoping for a response.

Silence answered back, complimented by a chilly breeze.

Gratt took a step outside of the open room and look to his left, where they came from. Nothing but an empty corridor was all he saw.

“Hey! Answer me!” Gratt shouted with urgency.

“Yes?” A soft voice came from behind.

Gratt immediately drew his sword and turned around. Smiling, again, was all Morr wore. Why, exactly, was he smiling in this situation? Gratt, frankly, thought that he was beyond weird. Startled would be a euphemism to describe his mentality. He was terrified and sick of being in an environment in which he didn’t feel safe. His voice dialed towards rage, trying to mask the horror within his voice.

“STOP IT!” Gratt angrily shouted.

“Sorry.” Morr apologized with a smile.

However, the more Gratt stared at that smile, the less sincere it was and the creepier it became.

“You know what, forget about my sword.” Gratt forcefully sheathed his sword. “I don’t want it anymore. Let’s just get out of here.”

“Wait.” Morr said. “I saw a sword in the room up ahead. I came back to get you because I don’t know if that’s the one you’ve been searching for.”

“What?! Really?! There is a god after all!” Gratt rejoiced. “What did it look like?”

“Hm… I can’t remember.” Morr pondered. “It was hidden within the dark, but part of it was shown by a torch on the wall.”

God had answered his plead, and granted him mercy. The last strand of hope within him is now upon him. If this really was his sword, then all the months of searching for it will finally bore fruit. He wanted to see this through, even if it meant spending five more minutes inside this place.

Only a few more minutes… just five more minutes…

“Take me there.” Gratt forced the courage within him to move his stiffed feet.

Morr led them deeper into the 8th floor, taking a turn at the upcoming open room. Gratt stuck close behind, not letting Morr out of his sight for a second longer. Entering the open room proved Morr’s statement to be true. There was a single torch on the wall that barely covered anything, and beneath it was a hilt sticking out of the darkness. He wasn’t certain that it really was his sword, but he believed that this was a good sign if anything.

Gratt rushed ahead to the hilt, bent down, and picked it up close to his body so he could examine it. To his dismay, the length of the blade was a fourth of what he was expecting. It wasn’t a sword… it was a dagger. The third strike finally struck; all of his hope flew off the roof and he finally gave up. At the very least, he comforted himself knowing that he tried his best.

“Too bad that’s a dagger.” Morr sighed from behind.

“Disappointingly, yes. This isn’t my sword. It sucks but I’ll have to tell Roen that--” A sudden thought struck his mind, catching his tongue in place. Gratt was holding the dagger up close to him, and judging from Morr’s point-of-view he shouldn’t be able to see whether it was a sword or a dagger. So how did Morr knew it was a dagger if he couldn’t see it? Unless…

Thud!

Gratt crashed to the ground by an unexpected powerful force from behind. The dagger ejected from his hand and slid near the torch. His heavy armor pinned him to the ground, making it incredibly difficult to stand up. It wasn’t just that, but turning his head, he saw Morr on top of him.

“Tell him… what?” Morr inquired in a mischievous tone. “I’ll pass it along if I see him. It’s the least I can do.”

“N-no!” Gratt begged with a sad mix of hopelessness, anger, and fear. “Why are you doing this?! I didn’t do anything to you!”

“Shh… Shh…” Morr hushed, placing his index finger onto his smiling lips. “Listen… do you hear that?”

Gratt couldn’t hear anything but his chattering teeth.

“N-no… I-I don’t hear anything.” Gratt hesitantly answered.

“That’s right.” Morr laughed. “There’s nothing now… but soon there will be.”

Morr’s hand inched closer to the back of Gratt’s head. His hand slid against Gratt’s armor, creating a soft vibration that rubbed against Gratt’s body. A soft vibration… that spelled his demise. Gratt recalled the fates of those adventurers on the 7th floor. They may have had died differently, but death was a common factor. He tried his best to avoid this situation by trying to minimized himself as much as possible, but in the end it didn’t even matter.

“NO! PLEASE!” Gratt cried and begged. “WHAT DO YOU WANT?! I’LL MAKE SURE YOU GET IT!”

“Shh…” Morr hushed and leaned closer to Gratt’s ears. “I doubt you can give me what I want… but I know you can help me get there.”