Chapter 30

♪ Smells Like Orc Mischief To Me ♪

“*Drip, drip* Ah, that’s much better.” I’d just finished washing all the [Guavo Fruit], sweat and blood off my body at the knight’s community bath. “I’m glad I at least made it to Shalanor. The Elbereth estate should be connected to the city.” Thankfully, I had the whole place to myself, it being the middle of the ‘afternoon’. I still can’t quite grasp the time of day with the differing number of suns rotating around the planet at completely different speeds. One minute I think it’s becoming nighttime and bam! Another sun be singing ‘I’ll be coming round the mountain when I come.’ I really need to ask someone how to track days and sleep schedules here…

While I was in there, my [Robe of the Scholar] was taken care of by Sir Faelyn’s young page with what I assume was some kind of skill. There’s no way it could have been washed and dried by normal means in the 10 minutes I’d taken in the bath, right?

But first things first, I know I saw a… Ah-ha! There it is.

‘bling’

‘You chose forgiveness rather than compensation for the guard’s disrespectful attitude.’

‘+8 is granted to intellect.

’+7 is granted to spirit.’

Always nice to receive an unexpected stat boost. Thanks, [Eternal Love]! But let’s take a look at the other notices I got when I was running for my life.

‘bling’

‘You’ve heard the [Howl] of [Beowulf].’

‘You have become afflicted with [Fear].’

‘bling’

‘You’ve heard a [Forest Wolf] use [Growl].’

‘[Fear] has been slightly increased.’

‘bling’

‘You’ve heard a [Forest Wolf] use [Growl].’

‘[Fear] has been slightly increased.’

………

It’s kind of alarming that an opponent’s skills can have such a huge impact on my mental state. I should have been more cautious when I learned that Malady fell victim to one of the slaver’s mind-control skills… But now that I’ve experienced it myself, I definitely need to ask Malady how to build up [Mental Resistance] or some similar skill. Actually, didn’t I experience it from that [Young Tarragon] in my last life too? Hmm, I’ll have to keep that in the back of my mind.

Now that I’m clean, safe, read all those notifications, and have been otherwise refreshed, I can collect myself to determine how I’ll warn Lyra and Malady about the traitor among them.

I’m sure it wouldn’t be taken well coming from a stranger if I just came out and said, ‘One of your guards is going to lead you into an ambush of Kobolds.’ While sitting in the changing area after my comfortable soak, I crossed my arms and rested my chin on my fist. ‘Hey! I know you because I am from the future and met you in another life!’ yeah right… Sure, assuming that facts from events in another life carry over to this one is a ridiculous presupposition, but I can’t help it, given my respawns. It’s hard to differentiate things that happened in that life from my current life since it all feels like one continuous series of events to me… Like, did I even actually die? A sigh of confusion escaped my lungs which helped to pull me out of the rabbit hole. I need to focus, or else my memories compared to the current reality become clear as mud.

A deluge of anxiety keeps fighting me as I ponder what to say, my face still dewy with the water from the bath rolling down it. Ugh, I never did dry my hair well enough back on earth either… Wait, that’s it! Having a seemingly unrelated thought, I connected the water from the tub with sweat dripping down my face. I get all sweaty and make it appear that I’ve just run a long way to warn them, ‘I came as quickly as I could after hearing on good authority that a band of mercenaries is after little lady Avacyn and there’s an informant in your caravan.’ That could work… but no. It’s definitely lying. There’s got to be a better way. I could just trail them at a distance. Monitor their interactions until I find Judicé… “Hmm, I’ll do that if my talks with the guard captain don’t pan out. Lying just doesn’t feel like the right way to go.”

Again, I FEEL the phrase, “Good job *thumbs up*” as though my feelings spoke a language of their own. I’m just gonna assume that’s Yahweh nudging me in the right direction. Thank you, God!

Sir Faelyn was waiting for me as soon as I opened the door to leave the public bath, “Ah, Sir Coon. I have sent a messenger to Gildor, the Avacyn’s knight commander in regard to your urgent message. His response to your request should be arriving momentarily.”

Wow, this elf is like an overqualified butler or something.

Me: “Thank you, Sir Faelyn. Would you be so kind as to show me the way?”

Sir Faelyn: “It would be a pleasure, Sir Coon. This is the way.”

I couldn’t help but think, Ha, is it just me, or does the high class on Driscoll like to hear their own names a lot? ‘Of course, Sir Coon. Yes, Sir Faelyn!’ I imagine some nobles get together just to hear their own names back and forth haha.

When we reached the [Strategy Room], he showed me to my seat and brought me a glass of water. That was when I realized, Syunir… Faelyn… Doesn’t that mean he’s also a noble? Have I been completely off in my treatment of him? Couldn’t be… He most likely would have said something. Then what, is he like, the 10th son, given no inheritance, and pushed to serve in the military? Maybe he married some peasant woman and was disowned? Na, I doubt he’d still carry the family name then…

Sir Faelyn: “Your drink, Sir Coon.”

Me: “Mm thank you. So, Sir Faelyn, I am curious about your current standing. You clearly have a surname and a well-to-do upbringing, and yet you have been acting not as my equal but as one born of the lower class.”

Sir Faelyn: “Ah, please pay it no heed. I am the lowly 8th son of Elder Faelyn, born of a mistress. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must meet Sir Gildor upon his arrival.” Well dang, that ain’t right, but I can understand why he’d want to dodge that conversation, I thought and started to pray, Lord, bless Sir Faelyn and his mother. Draw their hearts closer to you and let them rise to higher stations. Amen.

Sir Faelyn opened the door elegantly and saw Gildor to his seat before turning to me and saying, “Sir Coon, per your request, Sir Gildor has promptly arrived, prepared to speak at your leisure.”

Me: “Ah, thank you for coming, Sir Gildor.”

Gildor slightly bowed his head in silence as way of response.”

Sir Faelyn: “If either of you has need of me, please notify my page who shall be posted outside the door.” He gave a gentlemanly bow and left the room, closing the door behind him. Apparently, they aren’t worried about Gildor’s safety… or mine for that matter. *Sigh*

Me: “I’d like to skip all the unnecessary formalities, Sir Gildor. My name is Truck Coon of America, and I have on good authority that little lady Lyriath Avacyn and her maid Malady have been targeted by a band of Kobold slavers who plan to ambush you on the road back to [Kulkne], in two separate locations.”

That was the first thing I said to my good friend, Gildor.

With eyes sharp enough that he could’ve popped a balloon, he placed a gauntlet up to his mouth and took a moment to think. After a short enough moment so as to not be considered awkward silence, he mumbled to himself, “I can’t imagine any of the elves with us turnin’ traitor. Night elves are rare enough as is, the species wouldn’t survive if infightin’ broke out.”

Me: “Does the name Judicé mean anything to you?”

Gildor’s countenance changed from intense focus to bewilderment with a single raised brow, “The name doesn’t ring a bell, no. Should it?” His manner of speech gave me the impression that he saw right through my ruse of nobility. I may not be nobility on earth, despite TECHNICALLY coming from a noble bloodline that existed hundreds of years ago.

He doesn’t have a family name so, I guess he’s a commoner turned [Knight Commander]. He probably let’s out impolite speech like me when I get too focused on thinkin’. But what was that about not knowing Judicé? Have they not met yet? Is Gildor somehow in on it and gets triple-crossed later?

Me: “That is interesting… If you hear the name, do not trust the man.”

Gildor gave me a salute with his right fist under his heart, forearm parallel to the deck, and stood up straight, “Understood, Sir.” Did giving him an order change his mind about talkin’ to me respectfully? Whatever. I really shouldn’t assume I know about the intricacies of Driscoll politics just because I understand a bit of human history on earth. But I do need to get a handle on this world’s etiquette ASAP.

Me: “I would also like to request an audience with the young lady at her leisure. I understand she is here merrymaking with little lady Elbereth, so I shan’t interrupt, however, please see me prior to leaving Shalanor. In case you have need of me aforehand, I’ll be staying here at the [Knight’s Station].

Gildor gave me a scowl full of doubt for an instant before saying, “I shall inform young lady Avacyn that you request an audience. May I see your family crest?” Shoot... Maybe I shouldn’t have been so forward. Meh, being wary of me should be his reaction in the first place… But what do I have? Maybe this’ll work for a family insignia? I haven’t even looked at it yet… But that would be a lie, no? I need to at the very least follow Yahweh’s teachings and not lie for somethin’ as small as protectin’ my cover.

[Ring of Space] : Contents

…

[name: Mana Potion Ingredients]

<{ [name: Abascan College's Wright of Passage] }>

X50 [name: Trught Berry]

…

No, this is taking too long. I thought to myself before saying, “I don’t seem to have one on me. Were you told of my circumstance upon arriving in Shalanor?”

Gildor: “Yes. I was told by Syunir. Very well. I will request an audience for you. However, I can’t promise she’ll agree to meet with no guarantee of your station.”

*Sigh* I internally sighed without letting it show on my face before saying, “That will do. If nothing else, just be sure to warn her and her maid of Judicé.”

Gildor simply grunted in response, “Mmph,” and turned towards the door. Maybe I should just keep my mouth shut more often… Did I really need to ask for an audience? Or did I just subconsciously want to see Malady again that badly? The horror I witnessed with [Legion] flashed in my mind, overriding the wonderful smiling image of Malady with the image of her beautiful lilac skin being melted as she screamed for help. No. I need to protect her this time, no matter the cost.

With that business out of the way, Sir Faelyn came back into the room followed by Eefyr. I began to speak before Sir Faelyn had a chance, “Ah, Eefyr. I was terribly rude to you before. My rush to help the knights was… no excuse to turn down a double-double. Might I accept one now?”

Eefyr’s eyes appeared to sparkle, if only for an instant, before declaring loudly, “Right away, friend!” and rushing out of the room. I guess I’m about to hear a story here pretty soon.

Sure enough, Eefyr came back full of energy and a whole pot of what looked like piping hot coffee. We sat and he basically told me about the greatness of Timmy’s Finest, a coffee shop in Shalanor. He also mentioned how his village had been invaded during the Supreme War, a war between elves and humans over which race was superior to the other. In my mind, I thought, they probably just wanted each other’s land. The [Abascan Forest] wound up being the borders, several hundred years ago that is. Anyway, his family’s house back on the Bosbron Meadows was raided and when his father offered their enemies a brew as a peace offering, they turned it down and slaughtered his entire family except for him. Ever since then, he can only trust someone who would accept a brew from him.

The world’s a big place, I guess. Never know what kinda people you’re gonna run into.

After my conversation with Eefyr, I grabbed Masada and we left to explore the city. Being at a much higher point, I could see much of the city’s layout. Wanting to get a better view, I made use of my [Agility: 379 +472] and climbed up one of the nearby houses. “Hey, buddy, would you mind floating down here while I get on the house?” Masada predictably replied in the affirmative, “Kuru,” and hovered above the paved road with the green gem on his staff side. Just three jumps later and I had an excellent view of most of the city with the third sun starting to set behind it. Widely spaced in the sky on the opposite side of the city, a fourth sun peaked over the horizon as well.

Sunset and sunrise at the same time… “I’m… overwhelmed… lost for words… to describe your creation, Yahweh. Thank you. Aah, Such a gorgeous view…” The brighter burning fourth sun received a red shadow from the setting third sun. A mixture of red and yellow and white and blue swirled in the sky above a vibrant forest of green. The city buildings themselves weren’t like their [Night Elf] neighbors in Kulkne. They were built from some kind of petrified wood, all smooth and brownish grey, more closely resembling stone. But almost like Shalanor wanted to ruin the mood set by such scenery, the noise around me started to creep into my attention. “The city life is a bit noisier, but it’s hard to beat the tranquil outcropping where I woke up in my new life. Meh, at least there’s food other than [Guavo Fruit].” And with that thought, my stomach grumbled.

One of the guards noticed me standing on the rooftops, possibly from my stomach’s loud complaints of emptiness, and started to yell. I took it as my signal to bounce. Jumping down from the house just as the guard ran over to me, I ran off into one of the nearby alleyways with Masada in tow. Ha, standing on buildings is a no-no. Turning a couple of corners, I slipped under my hood in the darkness absorbing me into the alleyway’s shadow. After I was satisfied with how far I’d gone It was easy to go back to a more normal pace to blend in with the passing crowd on the street. “Shall we go on a stroll to see what’s out there, partner?”

Masada: “Kuru!♪”

“Huh, there’re more guards around than there were on our way to the [Knight’s Station].”

“Kuru!♪”

We turned into one of the stores nearby that looked a bit nicely decorated. Just a bit that is. “Whadder yup to, adventurer? This here’s ma’ shop, [Bard’s Racket].” An elf that didn’t look too much older than me said from behind a counter. But you know that means he’s gotta be a hundred years older than me. With age must come insanity because this guy looks the part. Frizzy hair seemed like it was being magnetized by the ceiling as it tried to stand in every direction other than neatly atop his head. Bard’s Racket? So, what, a music shop? Or is his name Bard? Or is this Bard’s, music shop?

Me: “Good evening sir. My name is Truck Coon, I take it your name is Bard,” I decided to go with.

His eyes went wide open accompanied by an open, perfectly circular mouth. After a moment just long enough to be considered awkward from anyone’s standing, he looked back and forth in a panic, almost like he was looking for someone. But when he let out a sigh, he adopted a completely different persona, starting with his hair. He used some perfume from under the counter to lather up on his hands and rub into his hair, which quickly became tame. Once his hair looked immaculate as a royal butler’s hair might look on his best day, he buttoned the top button of his shirt and flattened his collar. Even his voice changed so drastically that I wasn’t actually sure I was speaking to the same person. Needless to say, his Canadian accent was nowhere to be heard.

“Yes, sir. Tis’ an honor to make acquaintance with a man of such renown. I am called Bard, Bard IV, as a matter of fact, the owner of this humble establishment.”

“Ah yes, likewise. And it does appear to be a respectable establishment. What sort of wares do you vend?”

Bard IV looked like a person who’d just heard a term they’d never heard before and said, “By vend, a assume you mean sell?”

Me: “That’s correct.”

“In that case, yes. I am the eldest resident of Shalanor to have the [Bard] class type. As such, the musical instruments which I sell are of only the highest regard.”

Out of genuine fascination, I’d been impressed enough to ask, “I’m intrigued. What would you recommend to an aspiring [Bard],” while thinking to myself, Not that I have any money for an instrument, yet. But I need to learn about my future profession.

Bard IV showed me around his shop, promoting his best [Lute], [Lyre], and [Tambourine]. I’ve never actually had any kind of musical talent, so the [Tambourine] caught my eye as the simplest to learn. Conflict still arose in my mind because, well, everyone knows the staple instrument of any [Bard] is the [Lute].

On a whim, I asked about something I doubt exists on Driscoll, “Beautiful works of art. You’ll have to pass my compliments to the craftsman. You wouldn’t happen to have any guitars would you?”

The shop owner pondered for a moment before confirming my doubts, “Forgive me, sir, but I’ve not yet to hear of such an instrument.”

Me: “Pay it no mind then. I am interested in the [Tambourine], however, I’m exploring the city today. It will have to wait until a later date.”

Bard IV saw me to the door and said, “Understood. I bid you adieu,” while slightly bowing with his hand over his heart.

That was… different. From a classic Albert Einstein look to an impeccable Alfred Pennyworth demeanor.

Masada and I continued to explore the city, finding food stands, an art store, and even a live band playing in the town square. By the end of their performance, a certain familiar ringing resounded throughout the town. Huh, the burning hour. The streets were cleared of all life. Even the food vendors covered their stalls with magical barriers that, I assume, protect their merch from the whole burning-on-the-spot thing. We’d found ourselves without a place to go and the bells were almost finished sounding. A kind old lady invited us into her home to escape the sun’s burning wrath. She shared tea and crackers to accompany our small talk before we left in the direction we came from.

On our way back to the [Knight’s Station] we saw a,

[name: Slave Trader [H]. Buys and sells other sentient beings.]

He was advertising a man who honestly had the look of a criminal, not that a person should be judged based on appearance alone, “Human debris! Strong, human debris for sale!” I raised an eyebrow, putting two and two together. Human debris is what they call slaves here?

I couldn’t help but ask, “Why call him human debris if you’re trying to sell him?”

Slave Trader: “Ah, I see ya aren’t from around here, eh?

Me: “No, I’m from a long way off. But wouldn’t calling him debris reduce his perceived value?”

Slave Trader: “Well, human debris is the designation given to those who were sentenced to life as a slave as a result of murdering someone. Oftentimes, a family who lost a worker will keep the one who killed their family member as a slave to make up for the lost manpower necessary to provide for themselves. Even more so often, the family will sell the murderer. They may need to pay off the debt incurred by their late family member and the added financial boon can accomplish that. Of course, I take a 10-20% cut depending on the financial need of the seller. In other murder cases, the family can always press for the death penalty, which is the typical choice of men who’ve lost their wives or daughters.”

I get it… so slavery is used quite a bit in this world’s justice system. There’s no way a small city-state like Shalanor could afford to keep criminals alive in jail cells. And it makes a lot of sense to have them work to pay for their crimes… The slaver’s mind control skills will keep the family safe too. But what about the slaves from my last life? Most of them were probably not killers… I should probably learn about ‘ethics’ in Driscoll. That’ll make it easier to convert them to Yahweh’s ethics later on.

Me: “I see. Thank you for the information. Then what slaves aren’t considered debris?”

Slave Trader: “Ya must’ve been living in the boonies, eh? There are other ways that people end up as slaves. Probably the most common is people turned into slaves after their country loses a war. The winner decides the fate of the loser.”

Me: “Hmm. Why not just make use of the manpower from the already established communities?”

Slave Trader: “Ay now, I’m just a [Slave Trader [H]]. Don’t ask me about war and politics.”

Me: “Ha, fair point. Sorry about that. What about other slaves like people being sold to pay a debt?

Slave Trader: “Aye that is common enough, however, both parties need to bring proof of debt. Slaves sold as collateral in an illegal loan are illegal slaves. If they’re caught, they need to pay a hefty fine for it, though the profit from selling a slave is higher than the fine. Leaders are only concerned with their own fortunes, after all. But you didn't hear that from me.”

Me: “The slave doesn’t get their freedom from the person who illegally enslaved them?!”

Slave Trader: “That’s right. Forming a slave contract is easy and cheap. Even a [Slave Trader Apprentice Tr 2] can set the enchantment. Freeing a slave bound by such a contract is another story. Extremely high-level disenchanters need to be available, which just isn’t possible anywhere but the capital."

"That's terrible..."

"I agree. Since the profession’s so rare, they charge an arm and a leg for it too. When you hear about a slave buying their freedom, they're basically just paying to have their collar disenchanted.”

My heart was stricken with sorrow for those who’ve fallen victim to this world’s unjust culture and inconveniences, “I… see.”

Slave Trader: “’Tis certainly not a pleasant profession… But at the very least, as a [Slave Trader [H]], I do my best to keep such slaves away from rotten owners. Not that I can ever be completely certain… that's why I'm leveling my [White Mage] class. Eventually I'll get the [Cleanse] skill to free them myself.”

Me: “*Sigh* do your best to watch over the weak and oppressed. For Yahweh will deliver you in times of trouble.” Yahweh, please… give me the strength to protect the afflicted.

After that heartrending conversation, with the last sun setting, we soon arrived back at the [Knight’s Station]. Despite the woeful state of my thoughts, I tried to press forward, I guess now we wait for Gildor to inform us of a meeting. But Sir Faelyn would answer that quandary immediately after we walked through the gate, “Sir Coon, I do hope your experience of Shalanor was to your liking. But before that, I’ve news from Sir Gildor. Little lady Avacyn agreed to meet with you on the ‘morrow.”

“Thank you for the positive news, Sir Faelyn.” At least that arrangement is going in the right direction.

From the perspective of Luke:

During the strategy meeting for the S-ranked request, Orc Settlement Extermination, I had to explain the basic workings of my abilities. Being classless, I’ve acquired general skills that I deemed important for survival and trained them with enough repetition to not need a class specialization. Thanks to that, I achieved the hidden class of [Jobless], although I didn’t mention that part, and they obviously can’t see it.

'bling'

[Name: Lucerne]

[Title: Stance Master]

[Class 1 N/A]

[Hidden Class 1 Jobless x2: Your level of Jobless increases the rate of [General Skill] experience gained by [x2].]

[Class Type: N/A]

On the day we established a plan for subjugating the Orc’s, the burnin’ hour passed by before evening. The strategy was set and most of the preparations had been made for each of the adventurer and monster hunter teams by the next morning. Since I go solo, Guy, the guild leader, assigned me to act as a guard for [Oath of Fortune]. I don’t understand why, but apparently, the strongest team needs to be stronger because they have some ‘special’ luggage.

Kraft: “Ah, hey Lucerne. What can I do ya for today?”

Me: “Call me Luke. Guy told me to act with [Oath of Fortune] as one of your guards until we’re closer to the settlement. Something about ‘protect the gear.’ But he wouldn’t say what I needed to help protect.”

“That’s ‘cause it’s an item we don’t want others knowin’ bout. Since my wife is scared to death of you and insists that we are at your mercy, we’ll show ya though.”

Kraft rose his left hand and made his ring finger more conspicuous. He leaned in and whispered so quietly I barely heard him, “This here’s a storage item.” Then he started speaking at a normal level, “Not sure if you’d noticed, but there ain’t no wagons or supplies ‘round here, even though we’re going on a couple day journey with ‘bout a hundred in combat forces.”

I looked around and realized he was right, “Huh. No, I didn’t notice until you said something.”

Whinry held Kraft’s hand and said, “We’re taking care of it all right here.”

Kraft added on, “Exactly. Now you understand why havin’ the extra protection’s so important?”

With a nod of the head, I answered him, “Mhmm.”

Our conversation basically ended there, and we sat around in silence until their son, Caiden, arrived and complained while motioning to me, “Huuh?! What’s HE doing here? Don’t tell me I’ve got to watch this kid during the quest…” He had his face hardened as if seeing something he couldn’t believe.

Kraft answered for me, probably to protect his son from the wrath of his wife, “He’s been assigned as our bodyguard ‘til we’ve made a base near the settlement. The whole mission’d go up in smoke if somethin’ happened to the gear we’re haulin’.”

Caiden stuttered, “D-don’t j-joke around! You’re a G rank and don’t even have a class! You’d just get in our way…” the last part he said trailed off as though he realized he’d made a mistake with his choice of words. Ha! I didn’t even have to do anything.

*PONG GUONG BONG*

Whinry beat the respect right into Caiden’s head with the gem at the end of her staff. Caiden’s tone changed, and I didn’t even need to lift a finger, “A-a-ah, I s-see. G-glad to have you with us then.”

Not long after that, Guy sounded the march, and our caravan left along the edge of the [Abascan Forest]. We continued to walk until dusk when we made camp for the first night of the quest.