by Eric Ugland
Even me.
Sure, I was the relative outcast, sitting at a table full of people with room on either side of me, and no one exactly engaging me in conversation. But I was there. And I smiled at people. You know, when the old villagers were pointing me out to the new villagers as the dude their children should watch out for, as the dude who cut people in half and went around in the dark killing people. Sure, I only had killed the bad people so far, but you never knew when a slayer like that might snap.
Finally, though, Ragnar and Skeld came in, and they sat down across from me, their plates piled high with whole trout, freshly caught. They smiled, and tucked into the fish.
“Heard you were planning a trip,” Ragnar said around a mouthful of trout, butter dripping out of one corner.
“I don’t know about trip,” I said. “A little walk around the valley.”
“Taking us?”
“That’s up to you two. Originally, you had to stay here and guard the place. I still think you’d be useful here, but we have more bodies now. It should be safe.”
Ragnar looked to Skeld. Skeld speared a potato and munched it down, then he shrugged.
“You don’t have an opinion?” I asked, looking to Skeld.
“Have to admit,” he replied, “I find this, uh, lifestyle more conducive to actually living than what we were doing.”
“Skeld never was one for adventure and excitement,” Ragnar said.
Skeld opened his mouth like he was about to object, but then he closed it, and looked up at the big beams running across the ceiling.
“Not often the case, but Ragnar is sadly correct,” Skeld finally said. “I never was one for adventure. Perhaps that is why I was tapped along with Ragnar, in the hopes I would temper his unceasing desire for excitement.”
“So stay here,” I said. “There is no dishonor in being a guard. It’s a necessary job, especially in this fucked up world of ours.”
“And Ragnar?” Skeld asked.
“You know, there is an additional thorn in this next trip of mine,” I said. “See, I’m, uh, the main thing obviously is exploring the valley. But the other thing is getting Amber leveled up.”
“I’m great with Amber,” Ragnar said quickly, eyes alight at the possibility.
“Hold your damn horses, Ragnar,” I said.
“That enthusiasm, Ragnar, is why you are off the trip,” Skeld said, “At least, such would be my guess.”
Looking at Ragnar, I pointed to Skeld. “He’s kinda got it on the nose.”
Ragnar crossed his tiny furred arms, and made the very best angry face he could. And, you know, an otter’s angry face is still damn cute, but I did my best to maintain a serious expression.
“I think this is bullshit,” Ragnar said.
“Think of it as a way to work on your ability to withstand the charms of kitsune-girls,” Skeld said. “Or to increase your archery ability.”
“He’s right,” I piped up, “your bow skills are pretty lacking at present.”
“Oh?” Ragnar asked, sitting up straight and glaring at me. “Are you suddenly an archery expert?”
“My arrows didn’t just bounce off a troll.”
“One, trolls. Two, you didn’t use arrows.”
“True on a technicality,” Skeld said.
“But still true,” I added.
Ragnar snatched a potato off Skeld’s plate and winged it my way.
I barely ducked out its way in time, and I swear I could feel the butter as it whizzed by my ear.
There was a wet thwack somewhere behind me.
Skeld stood up on his seat, and looked over me, having to stand on his tiptoes to do so, then he pointed to Ragnar.
“He did it,” Skeld said.
“Look,” I said, “Ragnar, you have to sit this one out. I’m sorry, but that’s the call I have to make, okay? I promise we will have adventure and excitement galore, but, to do that, we need to get everyone in this little home of ours up to the same level.”
Ragnar nodded, serious for a moment. A moment ruined when a whole fish flew by me and smacked Ragnar in the face. It took everything I had not to scream out ‘Food Fight!’ Instead, I walked out of the cantina as the food fight started in earnest.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Something had been nagging me the past few weeks, and it wasn’t the lack of quests I’d completed. Though, that did bug me a little. What bothered me was that I was promised followers for completing my settlement quests. And yet, I had no way to know if I was getting them. Were they already here? What was the definition of follower? Could it be as lame as just a fucking squirrel who’d taken up residence in one of the big trees standing inside the walls? Thing was, I wasn’t exactly sure there was a way for me to find out unless Mister Paul decided to bless me with his presence. Still, I had to try. In that vein, I climbed up the mountain side until I got to the ledge, the site of our former meeting, and I sat there.
I watched the world do its thing below me, the various men, women, and children going about their affairs at the end of the day. The stream of dwarves into the mountain, the sudden panic Nikolai was feeling facing the hundred plus extra bodies who needed food and beds. But up on the ledge, it was quiet. Serene almost. I could see a nasty storm coming in from the west, but, for the moment, nice.
Not ever being one for prayer back on Earth, I wasn’t exactly sure how to go about it on Vuldranni. But, I remember the motions my grandmother went through. I knelt, brought my hands together, closed my eyes, and bowed my head.
“Mister Paul,” I said into the night, swallowing that feeling that I was being ridiculous, “I know you are a busy god, but I have a question—”
“Yes, yes,” Mister Paul said, stepping out of the air into existence on the ledge. “Get up off your knees. I appreciate the genuflection, the, uh, respect I suppose, but it is unnecessary. At least from you. You, Montana Coggeshall, have earned my respect, so, let us just treat this as a two-way street. Neither one of us needs to kneel. It is hell on the knees, and the pants for that matter.”
I stood up and brushed my knees off.
“Do be a dear and hurry, though,” he said, his voice rapid fire. “Far too much to do, and far too little time to do it. I dare say I have stretched myself thin trying to talk to all the, well, everyone who wishes to speak with me at the moment. Which, by the by, is all your fault. I have never had so many gods who have tied themselves to me, and now, look at all the social butterflying about I have to do. I am practically exhausted just standing here, and that is not a good look for anyone. So what is it?”
Quickly, before he could start talking again, I said, “I don’t want to be too much of a bother, just, you know, for your quests, the settlement ones, it said I was going to get a follower, and I was just wondering if there was a way to, like, tell who that follower is? Just to, you know, I guess, know that the quest reward was given.”
“Oh shit.”
“I don’t want to, uh, I guess, seem like I don’t appreciate all you’ve done for me, but—”
“No, this one is on me, I fear.” He reached into the air and plucked a notebook out. Flipping through, he tut-tutted and tapped his fingers on entries occasionally. “Shit. All I can say is, well, shit. It was my fault. Normally, I set this stuff up and I knock it down, but there a, well, recent events have transpired in such a way where I am not sure, just—- Look. I could make excuses, but the truth is, I have been busy and I forgot. I apologize.”
“Dude, it’s fine. I was just—”
“It is not fine — it is a breach of trust. I have broken the compact of this world. How should I go about even trying to fix this terrible mess?”
“Mister Paul, it’s fine.”
“Montana of Coggeshall, please stop saying that. It is most definitely not fine. This world, this universe is all built upon laws. Rules that are in place for a reason. And one of those rules is that quests exist and the rewards for quests exist, and if the rewards are not given for quests, there
are dire consequences.”
“Okay, well, we won’t tell anyone.”
He looked at me like I had taken a shit on his leg.
“I’m guessing that won’t work.”
“It is more that something as simple as that, I thought was a given conclusion. Of course we cannot tell anyone about this. But reparations must be made, because clearly there are those who will know this happened. And I will face penalties, which means you might face penalties. Granted, let me tell you I will fight quite strenuously to only punish myself, because clearly this was not your fault. It is on me 125%. Or more. Okay?”
He pushed me out of the way — towards the mountain and not off it at least — and then he started pacing and muttering to himself.
“Clearly you must have followers. That was what the reward said. But why did I offer that as a reward? What was I thinking giving something so nebulous?”
“I don’t know, maybe that this settlement was heading to the toilet because there weren’t enough residents?”
“Well, I mean, that is obvious. Normally I eschew the obvious and try to rise above it. Giving a follower though? How would you know who the follower was unless I specifically poofed them down in front of you with a glittering sign?”
“I’d probably notice that.”
“Gods only hope. You still have left your valley unexplored, and none of your real enemies have arrived.”
“That slaver guy—”
“A real treat. I believe his visit might have been arranged by a potential rival of ours.”
“Oh? Who’s the rival?”
“On that, I must seal my lips. A warning though: I fear there may be reprisals. Titus was quite the favorite.”
“Titus was quite the dick.”
“Not an uncommon opinion, and yet it doesn’t solve the issue at hand.”
“Which is?”
“The lack of rewards to you. A follower, how could I have been so daft?” He punched the mountain next to him, and his fist turned the wall into sparkling dust. He pulled out a pocket watch on a very long chain, and took a look at it. “Shit. How is this time already?”
“Time moves inexorably forward?”
“You are more right than you realize. So. Rewards. Followers. I cannot believe I have done this.” He tapped his perfect teeth, then stuck a finger up into the air. “Ah. Yes. First, this,” he plucked a glass ampoule out of the air, and held it up like a bonbon.
“Uh,” I started.
“Allow me to explain,” he said. “This little beauty is a custom concoction of yours truly. Made just now. For you.”
“I, uh, you made that just now?”
“Yes. Efficiency is paramount. It is a one-time use item wherein anything you smash it upon will form a very close bond with you.”
“Uh, like, a pet?”
“More than a pet. You will have a true bond with the creature, and it will be with you for life.”
“And this is for any creature?”
“Yes, well, I think. As far as I know, any creature. Just, well, I would caution you not to use it on sentient beings — it would likely be seen as slavery, and there are several gods, myself included, who would view that quite dimly.”
“Got it. Super Pet Pod.”
“Although, perhaps there is something I could give you for a sentient being. Perhaps…” he reached out into the air and grabbed another glass orb, and held it up. “Love potion.”
“No thank you.”
“I insist.”
“I’m sure that’s more trouble than it is worth—”
“And yet an incredible rarity on this planet. Worth plenty.”
He tossed it at me, and I had to grab it. What if it broke on me? I’d be stuck being in love with Mister Paul forever. That’d just be inconvenient. Among other things. I slipped both orbs into my Unfillable Knapsack.
“Two down,” Mister Paul said. “Though I wonder if they will both count as followers… Let us call the love potion an accessory gift to make up for forgetting the rewards, shall we? Thinking cap back on, Mister Paul. Too much to do, too little time.”
He had his little book out again and flipped through the pages quickly, found what he was looking for, and smacked his forehead.
“Eight? Eight followers? What was I thinking?”
“It’s fine, there’s more than eight down there, and—”
“It is not fine, Mister Coggeshall. Lord Coggeshall. It is a breach of the very rules that govern this world, and puts more than you could possibly know at peril. Due diligence and attempting to bring it back in line is all I can do. That, and hide that it ever happened in the first place. But invariably, secrets such as this are sussed out. Seven more rewards. Dear me. What is it you need?”
“Need? I don’t know. And, I mean, like, what are you going to do? Make a person out of thin air?”
“There are a few things I might be able to do in this situation, some of which are less, well, ethical than others. I could intercede in situations where there are people who are about to die. Bring them here—”
“Like from Earth?”
“No. Natives from Vuldranni. Or other places. Pulling in a new player to the game is, well, I am not in a position to do that. I could also attempt to influence individuals who might come here.”
“Dude, I don’t think you should do either of those things. Maybe you can, uh, can you turn, like, help me help people who are already here?”
He spun and looked at me. “Now that is an interesting interpretation of the reward. Turn a lesser follower into a greater follower. I like it. Provided, of course, it is something you agree to.”
“Yes. Definitely.”
He smiled, then starting pulling books out of the air. He tossed them at me one at a time, until I had a stack of seven of them. Then he switched to pulling out little vials of liquid, again tossing them at me. I bobbled one of them, and just barely managed to get my hand around it before it fell the 100-plus feet to the ground. I now had seven vials as well.
“Seven skill books. Each will grant an upgrade of fifty skill levels in any one skill of your choice—”
“My choice?”
“Yes. You must choose what skill will be elevated.”
“Oh, why—”
“Because these are supposed to be your followers. And, there are also seven vials for bonus attribute points. Each vial holds twenty one points, and, unlike some of the other vials I have offered you, they will last in perpetuity. As will the books.”
“Got it. Very cool.”
“And our little secret.”
“Yes.”
“Lovely,” Mister Paul said. He took a single step and then turned around. “I am going to amend this current quest of yours, and likely all the other quests in this chain, so the award is a tad different. Provided you have no problems with that.”
“Not at all. No problems.”
“Thank you for being so understanding, Lord Coggeshall. It is always a pleasure.”
He stepped off the ledge, fell for a second, and then disappeared.
I stood there, flabbergasted, trying to come to grips with everything that he’d said. Which, you know, had been a ton. Rules had been set, and broken. He was meeting with other gods. For the first time he had social obligations, all because of me. Because of the other gods I’d been interacting with. It was all a ton to deal with, and I really wasn’t sure how to parse it all out.
Instead, I climbed down the mountain, and I found a quiet tree to lay my bedroll down and go to sleep.
Chapter Thirty-Four
I woke up covered in prinkies. This time, I just stayed there, enjoying the warmth. The morning was particularly cold. Dark clouds hung low on the ground, blocking off much of the mountains. Even most of the tree tops were lost in the clouds. That storm I’d seen was definitely coming. But for the moment, I was warm, reasonably comfortable, and I didn’t have to make any difficult decisions. It was really tempting to just remain there, but I knew that it co
uldn’t last, that I had to get up and do things. The desire to laze in bed all day every day was definitely a holdover from my Earth life. Not that I did it much on Earth, but the desire was there. And, realizing that I was close to wallowing in inertia one more time, I forced myself up. I jumped to my feet, maybe squishing a prinky or two, and threw the rest of them to the side. I strode forth towards the cantina, trying to ignore the sparkly gore on my boots.
It was still early, so the cantina was mostly empty. Just a single man sitting alone amongst the sea of tables.
Nikolai.
Eating gruel.
Was there a better illustration of who Nikolai was? Getting up early to eat gruel?
I got my own bowl of the stuff and sat down across from my chancellor.
The prinkies gathered around me, a living rainbow carpet, and watched me eat.
“Morning,” I said.
“That it is,” Nikolai replied.
“I had an interesting night.”
“Congratulations.”
“You’re hung over,” I said, watching as he winced at every word I said.
His only reply was a grunt.
“I got some quest rewards I want to talk to you about.”
“Can this wait?”
“Typically when I wait on something like this, I forget about it, and then when I finally remember, I rush to take action and that’s how I wound up having strength over a hundred and—”
“Little to no intelligence.”
“It’s not that low.”
“Fine. Tell me about your quest rewards.”
“I’ve got some, well, things that will help make our followers better.”
“Weapons? Armor? A barrel of endless food?”
“Seven skill books that will boost any skill by 50 levels and seven vials of bonus attribute points.”
He looked at me, eyes searching my face for some indication I was joking. So I pulled one of the books out and set it on the table in front of him. He ran his fingers over the cover, then looked at the spine, careful to touch it as little as possible, and certainly making no moves to open the book.
