Chương 28: Ominous Bullshit and—When The Fuck Did You Grab This

The woman behind Dumbledude was an elf and she had pointed ears and her hair was the color of dawn, the system had written the color of dawn somewhere in her character data, and she was wearing a uniform that was tasteful and complicated and clearly designed by someone who had decided the elf receptionist needed to be hot. Her eyes were violet, which—why wouldn't they be. The system was a hack and the hack had read forty fantasy novels with hot elves with violet eyes and the hack had decided this was the standard.

The elf bowed slightly.

"Welcome, travelers. I am Sylvael, deputy of the guild." Sylva-EL. Holy fucking dick. The elf had to get an "el" suffix. They all fucking do. Maddy stared at her. Pointed ears. Dawn hair. Hot elf uniform.

"Ben."

"Yeah."

"Ben I'm not sad anymore."

"…huh?"

"Mike was a fucking NPC."

"Oh."

"And the thieves were fucking NPCs."

"…"

"It's fine. Everything is fine. This is AI slop. Look at this elf. Look at this fucking elf, Ben." Sylvael's face did not change. Sylvael was a deputy, which meant whatever the fuck it meant here, and Sylvael had probably been a deputy for a long time and Sylvael, possibly, had had this conversation before.

"Travelers," Sylvael said.

"Perhaps you would like to come inside. We can offer refreshment."

"I fucking hate your name," Ben said. Sylvael looked at him. Her face did a little twitch. Her eyes went down.

"…sorry."

"Yeah. Fuck your name," Maddy said. She walked in. The inside of the Adventurers' Guild was the Adventurers' Guild. There was a quest board.

The quest board was on the wall on the right and the quest board had paper notices pinned to it with small daggers, because the system had decided adventurers used daggers as thumbtacks, and the paper notices had quests on them written in scrawled handwriting clearly meant to convey individual quest-poster personality but which all looked weirdly similar because the system had only generated about four handwriting styles. She could read the closest one: RATS IN MY CELLAR. PLEASE. SO MANY RATS. WILL PAY 5 SILVERS.

ADDRESS BELOW. SEE BRIAN. She stared at it.

"Rats," she said.

"I fucking hate Brian."

"Yeah. Me too. Fuck you and fuck your rats, Brian."

"But that's like, the best silver-per-effort I've ever heard of."

"Maybe he has, like—a lot of rats."

"Five silvers of rats?"

"…shut up." There was a counter at the back and Sylvael walked to the counter and Master Valdren walked to a chair beside the counter and gestured for them to sit, and there were chairs, padded, more padded than they had any right to be. Maddy sat in one because her legs were still post-wagon. Ben sat in the other. Master Valdren sat in his and looked at them. He had a speech to deliver. It was all over his face. Stolen story; please report. He cleared his throat.

"Now, travelers—""Valdren, dude I—"" —I have heard from the caravan master that you cleared the Crypt of the Forgotten Sigil of Eldarion's Folly. This is a—""Yo—"" —most impressive feat, particularly for travelers of your evident—""DUDE." He paused. Wounded.

"…yes, traveler?"

"Just. Go faster."

"I am setting context."

"Skip the fucking context dude."

"Travelers, the context is important —""STOP CALLING US FUCKING TRAVELERS. Just…just tell us the quest part."

"The—""The system probably already gave us the quest part. Just give us the version that matches the system version." Master Valdren looked at Sylvael. Sylvael's face did something very small. It was possible Sylvael also wanted Master Valdren to skip context. It was possible Sylvael had been wanting that for a long time. Master Valdren reached for his belt and produced a velvet pouch and untied it and tipped it into his hand. The amulet was in his hand. Ben's hand went to his pocket. His pocket was empty.

His face did a thing that was extremely funny that Maddy made a mental note to make fun of him for later, the face of a guy whose pocket had been picked at some point in the last thirty seconds without him noticing. Ben looked at the amulet.

"…you have my amulet."

"Yes."

"How."

"Magic! I am a Guild master, after all. However, this is a warning, as you must be careful with it. It must not fall in the wrong hands, or else…"

"…or what dude. Fucking Voldemort's gonna come eat my ass?"

"Travelers, this amulet—" He held it up. His face went into the face of a man about to deliver a speech he had been waiting his whole career to deliver.

"This amulet is a relic of the Pale Years." Ben's eyes started rolling. She could see them from the side, a slow steady roll, the eyes attempting to escape the front of Ben's face entirely. His head followed the eyes about an inch back against the chair.

"It has been many years since I have seen such a relic. The Pale Years were a time of great suffering. In that time, many men of power were lost, and many treasures with them. This—""DING," Maddy said quietly to herself. Her panel chimed. [New Quest!] [The Trail of Eldarion!] [Investigate the relics of the lost lord Eldarion. Discover the source of the Pale Years.] [Reward:???] [Yay Maddy! Adventure!] She muted the panel." —Eldarion was a great man. A great and terrible man.

He fell to the corruption of the same artifact you now carry, and his descent was—" She tuned out. She tuned out and looked at Sylvael, who was standing behind the counter, and she made eye contact with Sylvael, and she pointed at the panel in front of her face that Sylvael could not see and made a tiny can you believe this guy gesture with her hand. Sylvael's mouth did not move. Her eyes did the small smile. It was the small smile.

The same small smile Maddy had given seven hundred Discord mods in her life when some customer started yapping in chat about something irrelevant. Frankly, they couldn't see her face, but she still did it: that tight little smile meant to contain her anger, along with the whole string of swears she could have yeeted at their tiny dicks. It was an Earth smile. The smile of a service worker recognizing another service worker. Maddy filed Sylvael. She filed Sylvael under person, probably.

Top ten worst names of all time, but probably person. Elf person that would probably make a massive bag on OnlyFans on Earth." —Eldarion left more clues along his—uh—peripth—peripa—pilgrimage to strength. Places far more dangerous than Eldarion himself. Frankly, I do not know how Eldarion survived any of this, even with how gruesome he became. He went… deep."

"Fuck no, dude. Don't give me a fucking quest."

"We already got one, Ben," Maddy said.

"I don't want a second dude. Don't jynx it."

"…I have not yet given you a quest, traveler."

"You're about to. I can feel it. Don't."

"Travelers—""Don't."

"The realm of Valoria would be much served if—""DON'T."

"…travelers, you may consider this offer. There is a network of these places, each holding a fragment of Eldarion's path. To recover them would be a service to the realm, and the rewards—""Already got the ding. System gave us the quest. Skip ahead."

"…ah. Then I will only add my counsel, travelers. You have shown great strength to clear the Crypt. But the trials ahead are not for two alone. Even the strongest adventurers do not enter the deeper relics of the Pale Years with less than four companions. I urge you to seek others. The guild can help you find suitable —""Yeah. Yeah okay. Four people. Got it."

"Three at the minimum. With careful balance of class."

"Got it."

"There are records I can—""Got it."" —share, if you are interest—""Got it, Valdren. Thanks." Master Valdren closed his mouth. He looked, briefly, at Sylvael, and Sylvael's face did the same diplomatic nothing it had done before, and Master Valdren cleared his throat and put the amulet back in the velvet pouch and held the pouch out toward Ben.

"Your relic."

"…thanks." Ben took it. Pouch went back in pocket. Master Valdren stood up. Robes swept. He bowed.

"Travelers. I shall leave you in the capable hands of Sylvael. Should you wish further counsel—""Thanks Valdren. And I also hate your name." He left through a side door that presumably led to the parts of the guild where the actual work got done, and the door closed, and Master Valdren was gone, and Maddy slumped in her chair.

"Oh my god."

"Yeah."

"He talked for so long."

"He's the guildmaster. That's his whole thing."

"His whole thing is bad."

"I know." She looked at Sylvael. Sylvael was looking at them with her hands clasped on the counter and her violet eyes very polite and Maddy realized, with a tiny oh, that Sylvael was waiting. Sylvael was the deputy and the deputy was a service role and the deputy did not initiate transactions, the deputy responded to transactions, and Maddy had been raising service-role NPCs since she was twelve playing Skyrim.

"Hey Sylvael."

"Yes, traveler."

"Where can we get appraised?"