by Pirateaba
“Oh. Oh!”
There was a ball of fur sleeping next to her, hogging the blanket. Lyonette gathered up Mrsha in her arms and hugged the Gnoll gently, ignoring Mrsha’s sleepy protests.
“I did it! I did it! Mrsha! I leveled!”
A paw slapped Lyonette in the mouth. Mrsha sagged in Lyonette’s arms, completely limp. Gently, Lyonette put the Gnoll back in her bed and then got up and paced around the room frantically.
“I—it happened at last! At last! How? It has to be—Brunkr? But I just did that because—I thought—I never expected—no wonder Mavia leveled up then, if that’s what knighting people does! Why didn’t Mother or Father ever say…? But I leveled! And I got a Skill! [Royal Tax]. I’m sure I saw it listed in the secret book of kings father showed me…”
She paused, gulping for air and feeling dizzy. Lyonette turned around and hesitated. She saw a pile of blankets and a pillow on the other side of the room. Ryoka slept with Lyonette and Mrsha, but she’d already woken up and gone out it seemed.
“I can’t talk to her about it anyways. I could but, it’s dangerous…”
Suddenly, Lyonette drooped. The excitement in her veins faded slightly. She’d done it. She’d finally leveled as a [Princess]. But she couldn’t tell anyone that news. She had no one to talk to.
Glumly, Lyonette went downstairs and found the inn was full of visitors already. Erin greeted her as Lyonette mechanically served tables and brought drinks and food out.
“Thanks, Miss Human.”
A group of Drakes had just finished their meal. They counted up coins and tossed them onto the table. Lyonette blinked down at the silver and copper coins and called out.
“Wait! You overpaid.”
“Did we?”
The Drakes turned. One, with dusky orange scales counted up the coins with a claw.
“Nope, looks good to us.”
He and the others left. Lyonette blinked down at the coins. They had overpaid, by about three copper coins!
“Ooh, what’s this about pay?”
Erin materialized out of the kitchen, bits of fish scales on her hands. She cocked her head as Lyonette showed her the coins.
“There are three extra. I feel bad, because they paid too much—”
“Oh, that’s not overpaying, that’s a tip!”
“A tip?”
Lyonette bit her lip. Was the extra tip…? Surely not! But she owned nothing on this continent. Why wouldn’t her Skill affect her job?
“Here’s the extra—”
She tried to give it to Erin, but the [Innkeeper] pushed the coins back into her hand.
“No, it’s a tip, Lyonette, a tip! I can’t take that! You keep it and add it to your salary—which I am paying you, now.”
“Okay.”
The [Princess] went back to busing tables, noting that Ishkr got nothing like a tip. However, the next three tables all gave her tips, usually one or two copper coins at most. They didn’t blink at giving her the tip, although Lyonette pointed out the extra money. Nor did anyone comment on the extra money either. It was unconscious, the way they added up coins and gave her a tiny bit extra. A royal tax indeed.
Lyonette wished she could tell Erin. But that would put the girl in danger, wouldn’t it? All she could do was helplessly feed Apista, and then take a short break to rest her head in her hands in her room upstairs.
Mrsha was up by now, but she was busy having breakfast at a table downstairs. Lyonette sat in her room and heard a thump. She looked up and saw an Antinium Worker pause in her doorway. He was holding a very long length of wood in one hand. Above, she could hear hammering and many bodies shuffling about.
The Antinium were still working on a third floor and a new wing to the inn. Lyonette sighed and stood up as more Workers filed past her with wood, roof tiles, and buckets of copper nails.
No one knew she was a [Princess]. That secret she had kept, out of fear for what might happen and more recently, shame. No one on this continent knew Lyonette’s true identity, save for Magnolia Reinhart herself. No one knew Lyonette was royalty.
That was how it had to be. Lyonette told herself that as she went downstairs with a smile, to play with Mrsha and help Ishkr with the crowds. It was safer this way. Her identity was a danger to the people she had grown to love. So she had to keep the secret. Lyonette had told no one who she was, and no one would ever know a [Princess] worked in the Wandering Inn.
Okay, Pawn knew. And Ryoka. And…yes, Magnolia Reinhart and whomever she’d told. But that was hardly anyone! Besides that, no one knew.
No one at all.
—-
“Yeah, she’s definitely a princess. I’m one hundred percent sure. Two hundred percent.”
Ryoka picked at the sliced raw meat Krshia had offered her in a bowl and wondered if it was full of E.coli or some other native bacteria to this world. She wondered if there were some tactful way to refuse eating it. She sighed, pushed the bowl back, and sat back on her side of the couch.
Krshia blinked at her. She and Brunkr were sitting in the Gnoll [Shopkeeper]’s apartment. Their ears were twitching, a sure sign of agitation. Ryoka scowled at them.
“What? Don’t tell me you didn’t figure it out? It was obvious! I’d expect Erin not to pick up on the clues, but you two? Lyonette talks and acts like she’s been raised in a rich household! She thinks you need a separate fork for salad!”
The Gnolls shifted. Brunkr looked at Krshia, and his aunt shrugged helplessly.
“We did not speak to Lyonette so much as witness her actions, Ryoka Griffin. They were that of a thief, and her speech and etiquette were not displayed to us. However, what Brunkr heard and his new class—”
“A [Knight]. I am a [Knight].”
Brunkr stared in shock at his paws. Ryoka sighed.
“You woke up and got the class. But you knew you’d get it, because you heard Lyonette knighting you, right?”
The male Gnoll nodded.
“Ishkr did too. But I could not believe—a [Princess]? Truly?”
Maybe it was part of the culture in this world. Ryoka watched as the Gnolls exchanged wide-eyed looks. In her world, on earth, meeting royalty was still a big deal for a lot of people, but it wasn’t unheard of. People with royal blood were people too; a lot of the mystique around them had vanished over the years. Whereas in this world princesses were, well, [Princesses].
“It doesn’t change much.”
Krshia frowned.
“But it does. Her actions change when viewed as that of a [Princess]. Harming her would be a grave mistake, yes? As for her importance…”
“She can make people into [Knights]. And she can serve beer. I don’t see what else makes her special.”
Ryoka sighed. She could tell this might lead to something in the future and she was already not enjoying the thought of it. She shifted in her seat.
“Okay, Lyonette’s royalty. It’s big. Don’t tell anyone, although I bet all the Gnolls know about it already. But isn’t there a more important person in Liscor right now? Who’s this Regrika Blackpaw?”
The name made both Krshia and Brunkr sit up proudly. The female Gnoll smiled at Ryoka.
“She is a hero. A legend. I know not why she has come to Liscor if that is what you are asking. She is not of our tribe and we have not had the opportunity to speak with her. But it is enough that she is here, and her motives are her own, yes?”
“You seem excited to meet her. She’s a big deal?”
“A Named Adventurer is famous. A legend. How can we not look up to someone who has accomplished so much? We Gnolls crave such figures as all people do. It is an honor to meet her.”
Ryoka nodded. She could understand that. Regrika Blackpaw was like a sports star, a celebrity, a national hero. She saw Brunkr stand up and flex his arms and then pace around both couches, unable to sit still. He no longer wore a bandage on his right arm; it had completely healed. Now the Gnoll seemed to vibrate with energy and excitement.
“It i
s times like this that makes me glad I was born, yes? My dream is in me. I have my arm, and debts to pay. I will be a [Knight] worthy of my class! And strong. It is good honored Blackpaw came here. It tells me to look up to the sky and dream of what I could be.”
He turned to Ryoka, eyes shining. She saw a smile on his face—a somewhat scary sight given the sharp canine teeth Gnolls had. But she had to smile back. Ryoka glanced around, eyed the bowl of raw meat, and then nodded to the door.
“Yeah. What we can be. I’d love to stay Krshia, Brunkr, but I have a date with the wind and snow. I’ll uh, see you around.”
She had intended to make this a quick visit, but Krshia’s paw shot out and pushed Ryoka back into her seat. The Gnoll [Shopkeeper] looked shocked as she shook her head.
“You have not touched your food yet. We could not let you go without hospitality, especially not to one who is a friend to our clan.”
“What? Aw, no. I’m really—”
“I insist. Eat. And then we must celebrate Brunkr’s new class, yes? We shall feast, and invite Erin. Or perhaps have our celebration at her inn! You will come as an honored guest.”
There was no getting out of it. Ryoka found the bowl of chopped meat pressed into her hands. She grinned weakly and cursed herself for not jumping out the window when she had a chance. Oh well.
At least Ivolethe would like the food.
—-
“Gnolls.”
Someone said the word. The four members of the Horns of Hammerad looked up to see who said it, and then down. No one in their party had said it—it was a group of Humans sitting a few tables away.
Other adventurers. They looked as dispirited as the Horns of Hammerad. As any other adventurer in the room, really. They were sitting in the Adventurer’s Guild. And today, no one was feeling too energetic. No one except the Gnolls, that was.
They were out in force today, taking requests, chatting, tails wagging, standing tall. The other adventurers, Drakes, Humans, and the other races like half-Elves, sat and didn’t meet anyone’s eyes. The reason was simple: they’d gotten a glimpse of Regrika Blackpaw and been crushed.
Not physically. The Gnoll wasn’t walking around smacking people with her paws or her greatsword, although if she was, who could stop her? No, it was a mental attack. The Named Adventurer probably hadn’t even realized she was doing it. But she’d effectively crushed the spirits of all the adventurers in the city just by walking down the street.
Ceria Springwalker sat at a table and felt like one of the little beetles coming out from a rotting floorboard at the table. She felt like one of them, especially when Ksmvr surreptitiously bent down and crunched one between his mandibles. She felt like a little beetle after seeing a Named Adventurer in the flesh.
Again.
The half-Elf could remember when she’d met Gazi the Omniscient. The feeling was similar. It wasn’t just the presence such people exuded, it was knowing all the things they’d accomplished and then measuring yourself against them.
It made you feel small.
As she sat, Ceria fingered the wand that Ryoka had brought back from Invrisil for her. A wand, some magic robes, and a burned spellbook…what else did she have? Nothing. Her magic was a tiny snowflake in the wind compared to real adventurers.
“They look happy.”
This time someone at their table spoke. Ceria didn’t look up; she could hear Pisces’ voice. She nodded, staring at another beetle.
“The Gnolls? Why shouldn’t they be? She’s their hero. A Named Adventurer from your species walks in, and of course you’re happy.”
“Right.”
Someone else spoke. Yvlon.
“What’s her title? I mean, her nickname. Don’t all Named Adventurers get one?”
“Regrika the Fortress. I think.”
A pause.
“Not very original.”
“Try saying that to her face. I—oh, wait, that’s not it. I got it mixed up. She’s nicknamed ‘Fortress Blackpaw’. Because no one can lay a scratch on her.”
Ceria sighed and looked up as a pair of Antinium fingers picked up another beetle. She saw Ksmvr freeze as he lifted the squirming insect up. Of all the adventurers, he looked the least concerned.
“Pardon me Captain Ceria. Is eating bugs off the floor not permitted? Should I pay for my consumption?”
“I think they’ll pay you if you eat enough, Ksmvr. Aren’t you…bothered by seeing a Named Adventurer?”
The Antinium considered the question.
“I am not sure. What emotions should her visage produce in me?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Hopelessness, despair. A sensation that you’ll never reach that level no matter how hard you try and that your entire life has been wasted because you can’t imagine yourself ever becoming that famous or successful?”
Ceria slumped over the table and saw Pisces and Yvlon wince. Ksmvr paused.
“No, I do not believe so. I will inform you if such emotions cross my mind. Are they to be desired?”
Hollow laughter was his response. The Horns of Hammerad sat. They did feel small. Small and unworthy. They only looked up when someone called their name.
“Hey! You lot! Come over and stop moping about!”
A female Drake with light green scales was waving at them from the receptionist’s desk. The Horns got up and slowly trudged over to Selys. She regarded them critically.
“You look terrible. What, is just seeing a Named Adventurer enough to make you all act like invalids?”
Pisces raised a hand.
“I am, in fact, nursing a hangover as well, Miss Selys. So if you could lower your voice?”
He rubbed at his haggard face as both Yvlon and Ceria glared at him. Selys sighed.
“I don’t know why Erin puts up with you, I really don’t. Okay, time to do my job. I’ve talked with my grandm—the Guildmaster. I’m sorry, but you’re not certified Gold-rank adventurers yet. You’ll have to take on a few requests and prove you can handle yourselves before you get the new rank.”
She looked sympathetic as all the Horns of Hammerad groaned. Ceria felt a weight settle on her back. She knew it was unlikely, but she’d hoped they could become Gold-rank adventurers. But new armor and weapons did not a Gold-rank adventurer make.
“Told you we should have tried it at the guild in Celum.”
Pisces grumbled. Yvlon shook her head.
“That would be…awkward. At least we know where we stand. Is that all, Selys?”
“No. Actually, I’ve got more bad news for you. Or rather, Pisces.”
Selys sighed as she leaned over the counter. Pisces frowned.
“What about? Ah. Don’t tell me. My class has once again stigmatized me in the eyes of your Guild.”
“Don’t be so dramatic! It’s not like that—”
Pisces crossed his arms, frowning. Selys hesitated.
“Okay, maybe it’s because you’re a [Necromancer]. Word’s spread and people like my grandmother, the Guildmaster, are a bit…unhappy.”
That was surprising and unwelcome news. Pisces scowled. Suddenly concerned, Ceria put her hands on the desk.
“Hold on, I thought no one had an issue with Pisces being a [Necromancer]. He wasn’t when we reformed the Horns of Hammerad.”
“Yeah, well, he wasn’t an adventurer until recently. And with all this news about the Goblin Lord and his undead army…”
“I should have known. It seems my magic is unwelcome wherever I go.”
Already Pisces was withdrawing, growing more hostile by the moment. Ceria turned to him and held up a hand. He subsided briefly, looking angry. She remembered that look from Wistram and turned desperately to Selys.
“I know Pisces’ magic is a touchy subject around here, what with the Necromancer, but he hasn’t done anything wr—okay, he hasn’t done much wrong.”
“I know, I know!”
Selys looked frustrated. She tapped a claw on the counter.
“Look, we’re not kicking him
out. And we’re not saying he can’t practice necromancy. He just can’t animate, uh, people.”
“What? But that’s—”
“It’s the rules. I’m sorry. If we see him raising dead bodies—no matter what the reason—he’ll be arrested. Or worse.”
“So I am prevented from my craft. How wonderfully tolerant.”
Pisces sneered. Selys gave him a look.
“I’m just relaying orders, Mister Necromancer. While you’re in Liscor or around the city, you can’t use the corpses of people.”
“Of any species?”
“Funny you should mention that. I have a list. Let’s see…no using Drake corpses, Drake bones, Gnoll corpses or bones, the remains of Humans, Minotaurs, Centaurs, half-Elves, Dwarves, Drowned Women—or Men—the parts of Stitch People, any aspect of a Dullahan…not sure if they have bones, so that’s why the wording’s so…anyways, no Gazer bodies either…”
Selys ran down a very long list of what was probably every major known species in the world. She had to take a few deep breaths when she’d finished. Pisces was looking even more irate now, but Ceria had noticed an omission in the Drake’s list of undeadables.
“You didn’t have Lizardfolk on that list. Is that a mistake?”
“Oh, no. The city’s fine with using their bodies, if you find them.”
“How lenient.”
Pisces was clearly agitated. Ceria traded glances with Yvlon. On one hand she understood the city’s desire for undead to be kept off the streets. On the other hand, a blanket ban against all undead was…reasonable. But Pisces was part of their group. She hesitated, unsure of what to say.
Other adventurers were staring at their group, and most were eying Pisces with no small deal of hostility. The [Necromancer]’s shoulders were hunched. He was clearly aware of the staring and he seemed ready to snap. Ceria opened her mouth, unsure if she could defend him, when someone else leaned on the table.
Ksmvr. He cleared his throat and gently snapped his mandibles together.
“Miss Shivertail, may I state my objections to your restrictions on my fellow teammate?”
Selys blinked at the Antinium and eyed him for a moment.
