Chương 23: Frog Subjugation Quest

The walk back to Millhaven took the better part of the day, mostly because I insisted on stopping when I saw a puddle, a bug, or both at once. Norman said "no" most of the time. Somewhere along the way, my rock slipped sideways and nearly rolled off my head. Norman caught it before it hit the ground, handed it back without a word, and kept walking like it hadn't happened at all. I decided this counted as one of his better qualities.

By the time Millhaven's gate came into view, the sun had already started sliding toward the horizon. It threw our shadows long and thin across the road ahead of us. Neither of us had said much for the last stretch. There wasn't much left to say, after the well, the feast, and whatever Norman had spent the walk clearly still turning over in his head. We finally reached the Adventurer's Guild. Norman had just raised a hand to push the door open when a scream cut through it from the other side.

We looked at each other, nodded once, and pushed the door anyway. Inside, adventurers had formed a loose circle around Eris's counter, all facing the same direction, mugs and quest papers forgotten in their hands. Nobody was eating. Nobody was arguing about rewards. The whole hall had the particular quality of a room holding its breath. A tall, bald man stood at the center of it.

In front of him, a man in light leather armor was crouched on the floor, both hands gripping fistfuls of the bald man's trousers like they were the only solid thing left in the world.

"Guild Master! There are frogs!" the crouching man yelled. Then, his voice dropped. Almost like a whisper.

"And Armored Beetles are gathering on the first floor." Then, rising again, louder than before: "But the frogs are more important! Handle those first!" Someone in the crowd murmured, "Frogs?" to the human beside them, who just shrugged. The bald man, the Guild Master, apparently, gripped the crouching man's shoulders with both hands.

"Calm down, Glen. Tell me exactly what happened. And why the hell are frogs more urgent than a forming swarm of Armored Beetles?" Glen started crying.

"Hilda… she was with me. Then a frog." His voice cracked.

"A fucking frog landed on her shoulder. We tried to get it off, but it kept switching, shoulder to shoulder, too fast to grab. So we ignored it. Thought it was just a frog." His voice climbed again, cracking further, hands tightening on the fabric of the Guild Master's trousers.

"Then it started croaking! Nonstop! We saw the beetles coming. We saw them! A lot of them! But we didn't care anymore! And the beetles didn't care about us either! They avoided us the second they saw the frog! Then more of them showed up! A whole procession, hopping in formation, like they'd rehearsed it! Then she started screaming at me!" He sobbed, dragging in a ragged breath. Beside me, I felt Norman go very still.

"She said it was my fault. My fault for taking the damn quest in the first place. I pulled her by the arm the whole way to the exit while she cursed me out over the croaking, verse after verse, like it had a rhythm to it. Like they were taking turns." He pressed his face into the floor.

"When we finally got outside, I was relieved. The frogs didn't follow us out. But Hilda… she… she started pulling out her hair!" His own hand drifted up to his scalp as he said it, fingers curling into his own hair, tugging, as though demonstrating. The crowd's murmuring picked up, low and unsettled. Someone near the door said, "I heard the same thing happened to a merchant last week," and someone else shushed them.

"Priests!" The Guild Master's head snapped around, scanning the hall.

"Someone use Dispel Curse on him! Now!" A man seated in the corner stood, unhurried, raised his mug, and drained it in one long pull.

"Phwa. Right. Coming." He crossed the room at an unsteady sway, weaving around two chairs. Closer up, I recognized him. He was the same priest who'd married Zebron and Aria.

"Faster, Pastrian! Do you have any idea how hard it is to be bald?!" The Guild Master jerked his head sideways, as if that explained everything, which, somehow, it did. Pastrian finally crossed the distance and laid a hand over Glen's bowed head.

"Dispel Curse." Glen kept pulling his hair while banging his head on the floor.

"Well, fuck me." Pastrian lowered his hand, frowning.

"Looks like that's psychological, not a curse. Sorry. Not my department." The Guild Master ground his teeth so hard I heard it from where I stood.

"Eris. Draft an A-rank quest. Frog subjugation. Now."

"On it." Eris dipped her pen, then paused.

"By the way, we only have two A-rank parties, and both are away."

"Fuck." The Guild Master dragged a hand down his face.

"How messed up can one day get." He exhaled through his nose.

"Fine. Downgrade it to B-rank."

"On it." Eris crossed out a line and started over.

"Can I go back to drinking now? We are currently celebrating our new party member." Pastrian rubbed the back of his neck, already angling his body toward his abandoned mug. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

"We have Bartt's party," Eris said, before he could take a step. The Guild Master's hand closed on Pastrian's shoulder.

"Your party's taking it."

"Aw, come on—" Pastrian started. The Guild Master ignored him and turned toward Eris.

"Any other B-rank parties available?" Eris scanned her notes, flipping pages quickly.

"Unfortunately, only Bartt's party is available at the moment."

"Fuck." The Guild Master pressed two fingers to the bridge of his nose, then turned to Nill instead.

"Get Glen to the temple. Maybe the clergy can do something for him."

"R-right away." Nill scrambled over, put a hand on Glen's shoulder, and started coaxing him gently toward the exit. He went, still tugging at his own hair the whole way, mumbling something about croaking that nobody bothered to make out. Norman whispered beside me.

"They're yours, aren't they?" I didn't answer. The frogs… I remembered them. The first time I had used the magic in the dungeon. I had not given significant thought to where they had gone afterward. It appeared they had stayed. The problem is not the frogs themselves, the human brain assessed, already moving into crisis-committee mode. The problem is that frogs in a dungeon behaving like this is a pattern. Patterns get investigated. Investigations produce information.

Information, in the hands of the right person, produces connections. We need to dispatch the frogs before anyone makes the connection. We need to silence the frogs before they say anything to anyone, I contributed helpfully. … Frogs don't talk. Better sure than sorry. [Frogs can talk when they've learned Translation Common.] Why would a frog learn a skill?! [It's possible. Given they interacted with the scouts to the point of breaking their sanity, one might have learned it.] See? I knew it could happen.

What the— I started walking before the human brain finished its indignation and stopped in front of the Guild Master.

"I want to take the quest too." He looked down at me, taking in the rock, the general size of me.

"Your rank?"

"F." A long, flat silence passed between us. Somewhere behind him, Eris had stopped writing.

"Did you not just see what happened?! It's a B-rank quest! Were you even listening?!" The Guild Master's face distorted.

"But—" I started. Then the door creaked. I turned. It was Xyno. She crossed the room and stopped beside me.

"This sounds interesting. Fill me in." The Guild Master clicked his tongue. Eris averted her gaze.

"So that's how it's going to play." Xyno moved behind and hugged me.

"Ms. Archer-mage, can you fill me in? We're friends, right?" I nodded.

"There are frogs in the dungeon. But we can't accept the quest, because we need a B-rank." She leaned closer and whispered, "Are those frogs yours?"

"I-I…" I stopped myself. Lying is bad. Please, do lie! the human brain shouted. No. But silence was also a kind of answer. I closed my mouth and pressed my lips together. Xyno laughed.

"Okay, let's take the quest." She looked at the Guild Master.

"They're my party members. We'll take it."

"No. You're also F-rank." The Guild Master crossed his thick arms.

"Can't you make an exception?" She reached into her pocket and produced a vial.

"I mean, you know I'm technically more than B-rank."

"Guild Master, no," Eris cut in.

"Don't worry, I don't even know what it is," the Guild Master said, entirely unmoved.

"Mad Alchemist, there are consequences for your actions, and—""It can grow hair." Xyno smiled. The Guild Master stopped.

"No." Eris glared at the Guild Master, sharp enough that he actually flinched. He put a hand under his chin.

"Technically… she could take the quest."

"Guild Master!" Eris's voice climbed an octave. Xyno reached out, took one of his hands, shook it once, and left the vial in it.

"We accept, then." Eris put a hand over her face and sighed. The Guild Master turned to face the crowd.

"This quest will be taken by Bartt's party and the Mad Alchemist's! I want it finished as soon as possible, before we get any more casualties!" A man, taller than the Guild Master, stood up from his seat.

"Drunkard priest. I told you not to stick your nose into it." He crossed the room toward us.

"Come on, Bartt, don't you feel sorry for the guy?" Pastrian laughed.

"Don't you feel sorry for me, having to stop drinking?"

"No."

"Fuck you." Bartt stopped in front of us. I looked up. He was nearly double my height. Behind him trailed a masked figure in a cloak, wearing a laughing silver mask. I recognized him. I think he called himself—"Hello! I'm Not Gerald!" He waved, then turned toward me.

"Oh, Ruina. We meet again!" I nodded. That's our body's killer! the human brain shouted.

"Someone you know?" Xyno waved back at him. I nodded again.

"Not Gerald."

"I know. He just introduced himself that way. Interesting name, right?"

"Obviously it's an alias," Norman said.

"Come on, Mr. Swordsman. You know I'll just end up calling him Mr. Assassin anyway." Xyno started walking toward him, both hands raised. Not Gerald clapped them against hers.

"Yay!" They were getting along a little too well. The Guild Master looked up at the ceiling.

"Is this party actually going to be all right?" The ceiling, as usual, offered no comment. I was starting to notice that ceilings never did. [By the way. You also have the frogs from the Bafun fight to deal with.] What the fuck?! I let the human brain finish it because I felt the same. I sighed. I looked at Eris for emotional support.

"You'll explain everything when we get home, young lady." She smiled. The other kind. I sighed again.