Chương 39: Celebrations and Uisge

Ch. 39 - Celebrations and Uisge Proteans are a strange race, even for the world of Anwyn. They are by and large a cheerful and friendly people, slow to anger and quick to laugh. When you learn more about their history, these traits become even more extraordinary. They have an unfair reputation, I feel, in regards to intimacy. Rumours of unbounded promiscuity, whispered slurs behind their backs, accusing them of being but a step away from being whores … All unfounded.

They do not view intimacy the same way humans do, for why would they?

They aren't human. They cannot get pregnant, and they are immune to most disease. This creates a certain liberated mindset within Proteans, although they are hardly overly promiscuous. They can be very physically affectionate towards the people they like, but it often doesn't go much further than that. Proteans are a created people, a race entirely consisting of women, blessed with intelligence in order to serve more effectively.

I'm sure I do not need to expound upon why a race of beautiful women was created, nor list the indignities they were subjected to in the beginning. It is a sordid topic, and I would strongly advise against prying questions, even with a Protean that you are friendly with. They won their liberty at great cost, and even to this day they value freedom, freedom to choose, more than almost anything else. - from the writings of Steadholder Eckhart The night passed in a bit of a blur to Wyatt.

He wasn't used to drinking, and he kept at it constantly, although admittedly he switched to something a little weaker after his second glass of Uisge. Everyone stood him a round, and he returned the favour—even though he received some gentle ribbing about some of his choices. Wyatt hadn't really known what most of the drinks were from their names or descriptions, so he started ordering at random.

His favourite was some kind of dark, fortified blackberry wine—it was incredibly rich, and not something to drink quickly, but he resolved to find a few bottles before he returned to the dungeon. Kit put up with the celebrating with good grace, even though she was left out of most of the fun. Wyatt understood if she didn't want to reveal to the group the exact extent of her nature, even if he wondered how it would work when Thrais and his team were in the dungeon with them.

The hour started to grow late as the drinks flowed and people broke off into individual conversations. Wyatt listened in as his new acquaintances talked, fascinated by the casual way they spoke of adventuring. It was a far cry from Raek and his team, however guilty that made Wyatt feel. Everyone in Veiled Legacy was either Silver rank or high Iron, with the team itself considered Silver Rank collectively.

This gave them quite a bit of pull, and Wyatt noticed that the bar staff and other Adventurers in the inn gave way and deferred to the members of Lera's team. Lera had blithely told Wyatt that she had organised a room for him to stay in when he wondered if he should try and find something before he got too drunk. Celia had tried cracking a joke about it, but Lera had elbowed her in the side fast enough that the [Mage] hadn't managed to get it out. At one point Wyatt found himself sitting with Lera and Kelar.

Wyatt had just finished a glass of heavy, dark beer that the elf favoured, and he was feeling warm and genial. His mind wasn't as sharp as usual though, which perhaps explained the inane opening query he directed at the [Vanguard].

"So is being a front-liner tough?" Lera snickered next to him, leaning an arm on Wyatt's shoulder. He flushed, even though Kelar didn't seem to mind.

"Shit, sorry. That's a stupid question I guess." Kelar shook his head, laughing good-naturedly.

"Not at all. In a bad team it can be. But Veiled Legacy has two casters—Celia, and one you haven't met—which makes it a lot easier. And with Theo and Lera as backup, it's as simple as can be. I barely have to do more than hold a monster's attention these days, and then it's carved up or burnt to a crisp before I can do more than hit it a few times." Lera grinned, draping herself even more across Wyatt's shoulders.

"Don't believe him, Wyatt, he's underselling himself. Kelar is a demon with a mace and shield. It's been a long, long time since I've seen anyone get by him." Kelar grinned, the movement pulling a few scars on his face tight on his skin.

"Why thank you, lady whirlwind." Wyatt looked curiously at the [Vanguard]. He was trying hard to ignore Lera leaning against him, but it was difficult with all the alcohol he'd been drinking. Her chest was pressed up against his back.

"Whirlwind?" Lera groaned, shifting her position slightly.

"Oh, don't tell him that, Kel." Kelar shook his head, his eyes dancing.

"Turn about is fair play. You'd know where the name comes from, Wyatt, if you ever see Lera fight. She likes to use a sword and long knife together, and she's all attack. It's like a whirling maelstrom of sharp edges when she gets going." Lera flapped her hand at her captain. She didn't seem to be getting quite as drunk as everyone else, but the alcohol was definitely affecting her. Wyatt wondered how rude it would be if he asked her how a Proteans body worked.

"I'm not that fast. You make me sound like a Gold Rank! Anyway, I'm off to the restroom. Everyone, I'll get the next round!" A chorus of 'thankyous' echoed around the table as Lera heaved herself to her feet. Her gait was only slightly unsteady as she tottered away. Kelar eyed his teammate appreciatively as she walked away, then he sighed. He gave Wyatt a crooked smile.

"You're a lucky lad, you know that right?" Wyatt grinned absently.

"Sorry, what for?" The grizzled elf shrugged.

"Lera doesn't take to many men. Not for ages, although we did lose track of her for a few years, so who knows. But a word of advice—don't take it for granted. I would never describe Lera as a fickle woman, but she has her priorities." Wyatt slowly flushed as Kelar's words penetrated his fogged brain.

"…uh, wait. Do you think—" Kelar stretched out a hand and clapped Wyatt on the shoulder. He looked nostalgic, and perhaps a little wistful.

"I've seen more than a few try to hold onto that one. None succeeded. So … just enjoy it while you can." Kelar clapped him on the shoulder again, nodding commiseratingly at Wyatt. Then he too staggered off, muttering about finding the restroom. Wyatt found himself sitting alone for a moment, his mouth slightly agape. Kelar's words conjured up the memory of Lera climbing into his bedroll with him the night before, but he shook his head rapidly to dispel the image.

It hadn't meant anything, and nothing had come of it. And he knew he was getting drunk and didn't want to embarrass himself. Wyatt got up and hurriedly sat next to Theo. The [Rogue] was sitting alone, drinking more steadily than the others. Theo nodded amicably at Wyatt, not seeming to have a problem with his presence. They spoke of generalities at first, before turning to a discussion of Skills. Theo was quite interested when Wyatt confessed he had his own stealth Skill.

"You do? What was your Class again?"

"[Survivalist]."

"Hmm … can't say I've heard of that one. Interesting. What does your Skill do exactly?" Wyatt shrugged, smiling deprecatingly.

"It's not like a proper stealth Skill I suppose. It's [Mask Presence]. It works well in stopping me being noticed, but it doesn't make me invisible or anything like that." If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it. Theo nodded knowledgeably.

"Ah yes, a perception skill. There are two paths towards stealth, and that's one of them. You could call it a sub-skill I suppose."

"So not as good as a straight stealth Skill? I saw someone vanish into shadows once." Theo waved a finger at Wyatt.

"It's not that it's not as good—far from it! You see, [Rogues] usually get a straight stealth Skill—like that shadow one you mentioned. But the lucky ones also get a perception Skill. They merge together, eventually."

"Really?" Theo nodded seriously.

"It's important. See, my first proper Skill was [Shadow Walk]. Most 'sneaky' classes get some variation of it. And it's useful, but it doesn't last long, and any action you take breaks it."

"That sounds like [Mask Presence]. It works, but if I try to attack something—like using it for hunting, it stops working." Theo leant back in his chair, smiling. His cheeks were slightly red from the alcohol.

"Yes, it's exactly the same. Well, no—it's the opposite actually. See, after [Shadow Walk], my next major skill was [Conceal Killing Intent]. That's similar to your [Mask Presence]."

"... oh?" Theo laughed.

"It's not as bad as it sounds, I'm no [Assassin]. But most higher level monsters will notice if you're about to attack them, even in a stealth Skill. [Conceal Killing Intent] lets me get a strike in without them sensing me first."

"I see. And they both became one Skill?"

"That's right. [Shadows Take Me] is my Skill now. Basically I'm hidden from view, and almost completely undetectable. As I levelled it improved, and now I can usually get three strikes in before the Skill breaks." Wyatt blinked, impressed.

"Damn, that sounds so powerful!" Theo smiled at him genially.

"Yes, it's certainly useful. An opening attack that no one knows is coming can settle a lot of fights very quickly. But who knows—if you take your class down that path, you might end up with something similar."

"So it really will only take you a week? Sorry, but that just seems amazing to me. You haven't even seen it yet!" Thrais smiled indulgently at Wyatt. He was pacing himself with his drinks a bit more than the Adventurers, but he'd agreed to join their celebrating readily enough.

"If not quicker. We've built entire houses bigger than what you're describing in less time. In truth, I'm only saying a week because we have to cut and process the timber as well."

"It's still amazing." Thrais laughed.

"Well we are only building the second floor by the sounds of it. And it will be a shell — a lovely shell, but only a shell of a building. If we have time we can add a rudimentary kitchen area, but you won't have an oven. You'll have to source that later. Is there a fireplace or chimney?"

"The ruins of one." Thrais shrugged.

"We'll build around it as best we can."

"Thrais, I really appreciate this. Listening to you … I would have messed it up trying to do it by myself." Thrais smiled easily.

"Well I do owe Lera a favour. And besides your gold and the sheer novelty of someone mad enough to try living in the dungeon, I'd be tempted to take this job for the levels alone."

"How do you mean? Are you that sure you'll level?" Thrais nodded.

"Building something new and different is usually worth a level. Or at least worth far more experience than constructing a house in the city."

"Really? I thought it just had to do with doing something difficult or hard."

"That can be true sometimes, at least at the beginning. But as you get higher levelled, novelty is key. I'm an elf, so I've been around for quite a while. Trust me, no matter how hard something is, doing it over and over again decreases the return." Wyatt thought about that. It echoed something David had said to him once, back when they were first trying to figure out how to get more levels.

"So grinding isn't worth it then?" Thrais laughed in surprise, grinning.

"That's a good term! Yes, 'grinding' isn't worth it. But heading into the dungeon, rebuilding an old building that has stood there for who knows how long … I'd be shocked if that doesn't level me."

"So Lera tells me that you bought a magic tome. Are you looking to become a [Mage], Wyatt?" Celia smiled brightly at him. She was sitting close, pressed up against Wyatt's side, a distractingly soft presence. She'd just bought Wyatt another glass of Uisge, even though he didn't feel up to doing anything more than sip at it. Wyatt shook his head ruefully.

"No, it's not for me. I think I could learn it, but it didn't quite click. I just don't have the patience for magic. But reading that tome, I'm doubly impressed by anyone that can!" Wyatt wasn't sure what the exact time was, but it was late. He'd had so many drinks at this point that his head was swimming. He felt good though. Celia laughed gently, taking hold of his arm.

"I could give you some private tutoring if you like? I've been told I'm a good teacher …" Celia's hand wandered, her fingers trailing playfully across Wyatt's chest. She smiled, her face getting closer. Wyatt grinned tipsily.

"I'm sure you are, but I don't think it would do much good. I just—" Celia kissed him lightly on the cheek, still smiling. She'd done it many times already of course, but this time she was closer to his mouth, her lips grazing his. Wyatt stared, feeling himself react to her. Celia's smile widened.

"Private lessons don't have to be about magic, of course. I mean, we could always …" Celia slid herself half into Wyatt's lap, one arm snaking around his neck. Her face was close, and Wyatt felt like he was getting lost in her green eyes. His gaze darted down to her lips, the darker shade of green captivating him. Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips, and— Kit bit Wyatt on the ankle, hard enough to make him jolt, and causing him to dump Celia off his lap.

He clutched at his leg, giving the silver fox an aggrieved look.

"Kit, what are you—damn, you broke the skin!" Kit sniffed pointedly at Wyatt, looking to one side. Meanwhile, Lera had hauled Celia up onto her feet.

"Alright, no more, Celia. You know humans don't handle alcohol as well as we do. He's had enough for the night." Celia snickered, nodding at Wyatt.

"Trust me, he really hasn't." Lera glanced down at Wyatt's condition, and her lips twitched. But then she raised her hand and flicked Celia on the forehead for the second time that night.

"I meant Uisge, and you know it. Settle down." Celia pouted.

"Lera, if you aren't going to show him the proper thanks, then I will! On everyone's behalf!"

"It's not about 'thanks'." Celia paused, blinking. Then a slow smile spread across her face.

"Whats this? Are you saying you actually—argh! Dammit, Lera! Stop flicking my head, it's killing me!" Celia danced backwards, covering her forehead. But then she grinned, giving Lera a wink.

"Fine, he's all yours, sister." Lera rolled her eyes, but didn't reply. She gently took hold of Wyatt's arm and got him to his feet. Once standing, he realised how drunk he actually was. The world tilted, and he found it hard to walk straight. Lera winced at seeing his ankle.

"You might need a touch of potion on that. But we should get you to bed in any case. It's a big day tomorrow for all of us. Coming, Inari?" Wyatt didn't really remember much about getting to his room or into bed. He was aware of Lera and Kit talking to each other, maybe discussing him, but it was just too hard to concentrate. Wyatt shucked out of most of his clothes, and crawled into the bed, losing himself in the soft mattress. The room was spinning around him in an unpleasant fashion.

It was better when the lights were turned off, and Wyatt sighed in relief. He heard movement in the room, the rustle of clothing, and then the mattress shifted as a new weight was added. The covers lifted, and he felt a cool body slide in next to him. Arms went around Wyatt, and he was embraced against someone soft. He couldn't manage to stay awake though, and sleep soon claimed him. Wyatt levelled up during the night, even if he was too inebriated to register it at the time.

When he had sobered up the next day enough to analyse it, he would realise that it was because of the profit he had made in selling the dungeon fruit to Isaek. [Harvester level 11!] [Skill — My Produce Demands a Fair Price] The next morning Wyatt woke up with a splitting headache. The shutters on the windows were still closed, but enough light from outside was making it in to illuminate the room. Wyatt's eyes felt like they were compacted with sand, and he blinked blearily.

Even that movement was enough to make his head throb anew, and he sat up with a groan. Wyatt froze though when he realised he wasn't alone in bed. He stared down in shock at Lera laying in bed next to him. She was on her side facing him, with a sheet drawn up under her chin. She was awake, and she was looking up at him with a small smile on her face.

"Morning." Wyatt felt his face go red, and he stammered, trying to reply. Lera chuckled at him, then sat up in bed, lifting her arms into the air in a languid stretch. This caused the sheet around her to slide down, and Wyatt's eyes bulged, before he hurriedly averted his gaze. She didn't appear to be wearing anything. Lera laughed softly.

"So shy, and after last night." Wyatt's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment.

"Last night—you're not saying that—" Lera laughed louder, the sound cutting through Wyatt's surprise and causing his headache to take precedence. The Protean winced in sympathy, speaking softer.

"Whoops, sorry about that. And no, after that much Uisge, there was no chance of any fun. You slept like the dead." Lera stretched again, and slid completely out of the bed. She unashamedly walked over to a dresser where her clothes were stored. Wyatt couldn't help himself as he watched her. Lera was flawless, otherworldly so. Her skin was a uniform blue colour all over, and the matte sheen it had was —' Wyatt!' Kit's voice shocked Wyatt out of staring, and he turned a guilty look on the fox.

She was sitting primly on a nearby armchair, silently judging him. Wyatt suddenly realised he was almost naked himself, and he hurriedly scrambled for his discarded clothing. In his haste, he slid out of the bed, landing on the wooden floorboards with an audible thud. Lera turned to look at him, her lips quirking at seeing his predicament. She stepped closer, clad only in a long shirt that barely covered her. She helped him up, patting him on the arm. Utterly at ease and unembarrassed.

"Relax, Wyatt." She kissed him chastely on the forehead, then finished getting dressed. Wyatt just stood there, watching her. On her way out the door, Lera smiled at him.

"There's a bathhouse attached if you want to freshen up. But there will be breakfast and hangover cures on the table if you care to join us." Lera winked, and then was gone. Wyatt slowly turned to face Kit.

"How the hell did that happen?" Kit sniffed.

'I didn't hear you complaining last night.'

"What are you talking about, you were here as well! And you were both in a better state than I was. You could have looked out for me better." Kit wrapped her tail around herself.' Who said I didn't. You'll notice you're not waking up in bed with Celia.' Wyatt hesitated, as vague memories of the night before surfaced. Kit got to her feet, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

'You — you're actually disappointed, aren't you!' Wyatt shook his head rapidly, wincing at the pain that shot through him as he did.

"No, not at all!" Kit growled under her breath, and Wyatt made the decision that staying in this conversation wasn't a good idea. He quickly pulled on the rest of his clothes, hurrying towards the door.

"Hey, breakfast sounds good, doesn't it! I think I promised Thrais that I would hash out the last few details this morning as well. Come on, let's not hold anyone up!" Wyatt practically ran out the door.