by Drew Hayes
Thistle inhaled sharply, the air whistling through a gap in two of his teeth. Turning around quickly, he looked at Grumph, whose expression seemed solemn unless one knew him well enough to make out the worry in his eyes.
“You know what a Grand Quest is, I take it?” Elora had been paying attention to Thistle, noting his reaction to the news.
“Not firsthand, no,” Thistle admitted. “But Grumph and I traveled here not long after the last Grand Quest occurred. We saw the aftermath.”
“I assume someone is going to explain to us what a Grand Quest is,” Gabrielle said.
“A Grand Quest is one handed down directly from the king of Alcatham, one of such difficulty that only adventurers of proven skill are allowed to undertake it. And they do, because the rewards are incredible,” Thistle explained.
“Is this something we should be looking into?” Eric asked.
“No.” Grumph’s voice was strong and unbending, even from the rear of the group. “Not worth it.”
“I’m afraid I must agree with Grumph,” Thistle said. “Wonderful as the spoils might be, the dead have little use for coin. We’re better off working our way through the small quests until we’ve earned all that we need.”
“That... might not be an option.” Eric’s pace slowed. The blood drained from his face, his eyes staring up at the golden banner still too far away for Thistle to make out. “I was just able to read some of the banner’s details, including what the reward is.”
“No money is worth death,” Grumph said.
“I won’t argue with you there, but gold is only part of it,” Eric told them. “The bigger prize is a mysterious artifact that was recently uncovered. One that has, if I’m reading this right, ‘strange, unnatural properties that magic cannot explain.’ Sound like anything we know?”
It was Thistle’s turn to blanch as the realization sank in.
“The Bridge. The reward is another piece of the Bridge.”
Chapter 15
“We don’t know for sure that it’s... that.” Gabrielle stopped herself from saying the word out loud, glancing about at the other adventurers near them in the tavern.
In his time traveling with them, Timuscor had only heard the group mutter the name of the artifact a few times, and even then, it was usually by accident. He couldn’t blame them for their caution; there had been something about it, something beyond explanation. Even with it buried half a kingdom away, it always seemed possible that the Bridge could hear them and just might respond to being called. Though Timuscor wasn’t entirely convinced that that would be a bad thing. While they each had their own memories of the artifact, for Timuscor, it represented a turning point in his life.
The piercing white light from it was his first clear, genuine memory. He didn’t know what had been happening before he awoke with Eric pressing the strangely-shaped object into his chest; it was all muddy and half-formed. But that moment was crystal clear—awakening to the shining light of the Bridge all around him. It had power, and that made it dangerous. Yet to Timuscor, the light had been warm and comforting. Power wasn’t inherently bad, as far as he could tell: it only reflected how it was used.
“We don’t know for sure, that’s true, but the indications are pretty strong.” Eric pulled up the scroll they’d been given upon entrance, one filled with basic information regarding the Grand Quest, including more details about the reward. “‘Unmeasurable amounts of power’, ‘mages were not able to identify’, ‘strange effects on those nearby when in use.’ That’s either another piece or one hell of a similar artifact.”
“I find it far more disturbing that nowhere in that document is any detail of what the actual quest will be,” Thistle told them. “Only a few vague mentions of threats to the kingdom.”
“That’s actually standard procedure with Grand Quests,” Elora said. “Remember, this is one you have to prove yourself worthy to try and take on, so they can’t just tell everyone what it is, or there would be people who aren’t qualified getting themselves killed in unsanctioned attempts.” As she spoke, her eyes darted around frequently, resting on every member of the party for at least a few moments. Timuscor wasn’t sure if the others noticed how she watched them, though he had to assume that Thistle and Eric did. They were smarter than he, just as he was stronger than they. Still, sometimes he wondered it if was easier for him to track her eyes because they spent so little time on him.
“So, if we tried to do this, we’d be going in blind, fighting for a prize that might or might not be another piece of something we’re not even sure we want, in a quest that will almost certainly get us killed. Did I get everything?” Gabrielle asked.
“You left out that we would have to prove ourselves to be able to even attempt to undertake it,” Timuscor added, reaching down to scratch Mr. Peppers behind the ears. The boar grunted in what Timuscor assumed to be pleasure, though sometimes it was hard to tell.
“Ah, right, thank you, Timuscor,” Gabrielle said. “First, we’d have to clear some other deadly hurdle to even have a chance at risking our lives.”
“No one is saying the situation is ideal,” Thistle told her. “However, knowing what we know, it would be irresponsible if we didn’t at least discuss the possibility.”
“What I don’t get is why the king is letting it go.” Eric’s forehead was scrunched up as he puzzled over the situation. “King Liadon was willing to send wave after wave of adventurers to their deaths trying to get a hold of the other piece, but the king of Alcatham is using his as a quest reward.”
“Maybe he doesn’t know what he has,” Gabrielle suggested.
“Maybe different pieces have different effects,” Grumph added.
As they talked, Timuscor could see Elora sitting in silence, absorbing every piece of information they casually tossed out. He knew that Eric had told Elora about why King Liadon was hunting them, but letting her listen so closely seemed like it was giving away more than they intended to. Timuscor didn’t have a way to interject, though, not without blatantly pointing out what they were doing. He lacked the silver tongue and quiet wits of the others. Timuscor was forced to use the only tactic available to him: action.
With one last pat on Mr. Peppers’s head, Timuscor rose from his seat, his armor clanking loudly as he did. The movement drew everyone’s attention, creating a pause that he pounced on as quickly as the words would form.
“I think we should go turn in the berries,” Timuscor announced. “Maybe I’m wrong, but we don’t know anything right now. If we get our reward, then we know how much more we need to make it to Baltmur, and we can ask about how to qualify for the Grand Quest. Then we can talk about real stuff, not guesses. And get some food while we do it.”
For a moment, the table was silent; then Thistle followed Timuscor’s lead and hopped up from his seat. “Quite a good suggestion. We can argue about the theoretical all day; far better to go see exactly what paths lay before us. Perhaps the conditions to even undertake the Grand Quest are above our capabilities, in which case we’ll have been bickering over nothing. And Timuscor is right. I think we could all use a bite to eat.”
With that, the rest of the party began to rise so they could walk across the hall. Elora followed, looking a bit put out that her font of information had suddenly dried up. Those eyes examined each of Timuscor’s friends as they walked away from the table.
And, unless Timuscor was mistaken, this time Elora’s gaze lingered on him for a fair bit of time as well.
* * *
Fast as the clerks were moving, the line had still doubled since the last time the group came to the Hall of Adventurers. That was hardly surprising with the announcement of the Grand Quest, although standing around for so long did make them cast more than a few envious glances at the people who strolled up the guarded staircase. Worse was the understanding that this was just the first few pebbles of the avalanche. As word of the Grand Quest spread, there would be adventurers coming from all over Alcatham to try their hand at i
t. The next line they waited in might very well stretch outside the building.
By sheer chance, when the time finally arrived for them to approach one of the many counters, there was a familiar face waving them over. “Good Evening,” said Sylan the clerk. “Back from picking berries, I see.”
“Aye, though it was hardly just a stroll through the orchard.” Thistle motioned for Eric to hand him the canvas sack where all of the ildenberries had been gathered. After a brief discussion, they’d elected to hold back only a handful in case they proved useful on the journey. At half a gold per berry, the things were too valuable to hoard.
With a thump that was softer than Thistle would have preferred, he deposited the sack on the counter. Sylan wasted no time, pulling out a basket from under his side of the counter and quickly counting the ildenberries as he removed them from the sack. It was an unfortunately short process, and in no time, Sylan was running his hand through the bottom of the bag to be sure he hadn’t missed any before handing it back to Thistle.
“One hundred and forty-six ildenberries will come to seventy-three gold as payment,” Sylan announced. In another context, Thistle might have done a leap for joy at the sum, but with so many expenses still looming before them, he knew how quickly that gold would vanish. All he could hope was that they’d done well enough to be shown quests with higher rewards.
“Hang on, I almost forgot.” From behind, Eric produced another bag and reached over Thistle to put it on the counter. “I got those from the orchard, too. They’re not ildenberries, but they seem similar. I thought they might be worth something.”
“As we’re only authorized to pay for quest rewards, it’s unlikely, but maybe I can point you to a merchant who would...” Sylan’s voice faded away as he opened the bag and peered inside. He glanced from Eric, to Thistle, to the bag, and back to Eric again. “Did you say that you got these from the orchard?”
“Technically,” Eric replied. “I think they were growing underground, as they got pulled up with this animated bunch of roots we had to fight.”
“Sir, these are ildenapples, a very rare, highly-prized spell component.” Sylan pulled a small rune from his pocket and pressed it with his slender thumb. Immediately, it began to glow red, and he set it carefully down on top of the counter. “Forgive the delay, please, but this is a situation in which I’ll need to consult our overseer.”
“Oh, dragonshit, it’s not illegal to pick those or something, is it?” At Gabrielle’s words, a wave of tension swept through the party, everyone suddenly wondering if they were about to have to fight or run for their freedom.
Thankfully, Sylan shut down the concern immediately with a shake of his head. “Not in the slightest. It is, however, considered exceedingly difficult. So much so that we have an entire separate quest for harvesting them.”
Before he could explain any more, a door several feet away banged open and a dark-bearded dwarf walked over to Sylan’s side, climbing an unseen object that was likely a stool akin to that which Thistle stood on so he could see over the counter. The dwarf reached over and picked up the stone, the red light vanishing at his touch. He and Sylan began to whisper rapidly, using a language that almost no one in the party could understand. The discussion was brief, ending with the dwarf eventually turning to face them.
“Evening, adventurers,” he said. “My name is Thurm, and you’ve wrapped us in a bit of a snare here. Seems you fulfilled a quest you hadn’t officially taken on. Ordinarily, we’d have to tell you to take the wares off to the market, which would be a shame, as the higher ups are always on the lookout for ildenapples. Luckily, the rules have been made a bit more lenient in order to let those who were already assigned to tasks prove themselves for the Grand Quest. So…”
Thurm rustled under Sylan’s counter and pulled out a small scroll, opening it up and making a few quick notations with a quill that seemed to have appeared from nowhere. “If one of you will sign here, you can officially accept the quest to harvest ildenapples from the enchanted orchard.”
Thistle’s glance at the scroll was quick, but it was also thorough. Beneficial or not, he knew better than to sign something put in front of him without checking the content. As far as he could tell, it was the same sort of form he’d filled out when accepting their first quest, with a few notations from Thurm citing sanctioned exceptions. Thistle had no idea what an ildenapple was worth, but if they were making this much of a deal over it, then the price would hopefully be a high one. He signed his name with a small flourish, and then handed the scroll back to Thurm.
“And since you’ve brought us three ildenapples, I officially mark your quest as complete,” Thurm said, signing his own name to the paper as well. “Sylan will pay you the proper wage; however, it is my duty as the overseer of the clerks to present you with one of these.”
The coin, too large by far to be standard currency, made a slight thud as Thurm dropped it onto the table. Emblazoned across the front was the crest of Alcatham, and with one turn, Thistle could see a pair of swords crossed on the back, just like those resting atop the Hall of Adventurers.
“By completing one of our more difficult endeavors, you have earned the right to participate in the upcoming Grand Quest. In the time between now and then, you are free to take on quests as normal, but if you wish to participate in the Grand Quest, be ready to meet outside the Hall before sunrise on the date it begins. No latecomers accepted— that’s the king’s rule, not ours.”
With that, Thurm descended until only the shiny top of his bald head was visible over the counter, and then made his way through the door, closing it behind him. Sylan, visibly flustered, still managed to keep his smile in place as he took the three ildenapples and set them in a different basket.
“Let’s see, three ildenapples at the quest reward rate of one thousand gold pieces—”
Grumph let out something like a choked snort, and Eric’s eyes looked like someone had hit him with a stunning spell. It was Gabrielle, though, who cut Sylan off, leaning forward and fiercely whispering, “Did you say those things are worth a thousand gold?”
“No, ma’am. They’re worth a thousand gold per ildenapple. The total reward for these will come to three thousand gold. We can pay it to you directly, or provide you with proof of funds to use around the capital instead of having to haul so much gold around. The Hall acts as a storage center for funds as a peacekeeping measure. Having so much coin on the street always drastically increases the amount of crime, for obvious reasons.”
Thistle was almost certain he, and perhaps Elora, were the only ones to absorb everything Sylan said; the others were still reeling from the idea of suddenly coming into three thousand gold pieces. In just one quest, they’d easily procured enough gold to repair or replace every piece of battered equipment they owned, as well as buy enough supplies to make the Baltmur trek several times over. They could be back on the road in a few days, leaving Alcatham—and the bounty on their heads—behind in the process. Of course, they also might be abandoning a piece of the Bridge, and while Thistle wasn’t certain it was really their problem, he did know the matter at least demanded consideration. Especially since they’d already earned entrance into the Grand Quest.
“We’ll take the proof of funds, please. Oh, and if possible, apply some of that to booking our rooms again. Something tells me the inn will be filling up quickly,” Thistle said.
“A wise decision,” Sylan replied. “Would you like to see any new quests as well?”
“Not for the moment. I think we need to discuss how we want to proceed from here.” Thistle looked back at the others. “Any suggestions for what to buy first?”
“Oooh! I have an idea,” Elora said. “I think you should pay me one thousand pieces of it.”
“Look, I’ll concede you helped some, but that doesn’t entitle you to a third of the damn spoils,” Gabrielle spat.
Elora shook her head. “No, I don’t want it as my cut. I want it as payment.”
“Payment f
or what?” Thistle asked, curiosity pushing him forward even as he wondered if perhaps he shouldn’t shut this line of discussion down.
“Tuition.” Elora reached out and clapped Eric on the shoulder, yanking him over to her side. “For the low price of only one thousand gold, I’ll teach your friend here how to be a proper rogue.”
Chapter 16
“The rest of the travelers give you a wide berth as you draw closer to town, and more than one guard rests their hand on a weapon when they see you approach.” Jamie tossed a few dice behind her screen. “None of them choose to stop you, however.”
“Yeah, they know that only death awaits those who try to step to us,” Glenn said.
“That, or they see the giant, dead wolf carcass on Mitnan’s horse and realize it’s probably wolf blood that you’re all covered in,” Jamie replied. “Either way, they won’t bother you if you don’t give them cause.”
“But they’re obviously scared, and I bet we could get some good money for the guard equipment.” Terry checked the map, wondering how they would fare against bigger numbers if they used the forest as cover.
“Both of you keep your shit together,” Mitch ordered. “We went to all the trouble of killing this fucking pack leader; I’m not going to let some dumb fight with a couple guards mess up the corpse before we can get paid. Mitnan could use some fancy new armor, and we’ve got a whole sack of tongues to pay for it.”
The sack in question was draped over the back of Glezidel’s mount, leaving a trail of blood droplets as it bounced along. Killing the wolves had been easy once they released the poisoned goats— the only one of the pack still able to put up a fight was their leader, and fight he had. If not for a stock of healing potions and some lucky rolls, they might have lost a party member in the battle. Of course, that wasn’t the worst thing, since it meant looting their gear and gold. Once a new character was rolled in, it could easily be a net gain, but they’d managed to bring down the beast before it was able to tear any of them from the mortal plane.
