Chapter 101: Strawberry Meadows

Name Alex Guild Seven Banes Class Fighter level 8

GUILD WAR!

Rejoice ye hungry guilds looking to change the face of Esem (or The Hub, least ways). Solomon, leader of the famed Old Guard has declared that a Guild War is to commence two days hence on April 1st. That’s right! You and yours will have the first opportunity in over five years to make a play for which guild controls the central spoke of the wheel which is Esem’s areas. This will be the fifth time Solomon has announced that such a “competition” is to be held, something which has become a peculiar tradition of the Old Guard ever since their defeat of the Dark Lord. Though most of us may scratch our heads at such an “event” going on, there will be many guilds who will vie for the ownership of The Hub, and the many benefits which that may bring.

Here at the Esem Monitor, it is our advice that only the most skilled guilds even venture to the Hub for the days of April 1st-April 3rd. For three days, The Hub is likely to become a war zone not seen since the previous Guild war in SD980, which resulted in the devastation of great swatches of The Hub and required an estimated 5 million gold to restore to its former prominence. Of course, Solomon has once again published his “rules of combat”, and we believe them to be quite fair to any guild or player whilst in the Hub during this tumultuous time.

1. The Old Guard themselves are not allowed to participate until the very end. Once a guild has defeated the others in the vicinity, they may challenge the Old Guard, and only then will the lustrous guild participate.

2. Any guild wanting to participate must distinguish themselves with red armbands. Removal of these armbands to hide their intentions and thereby take the Hub through covert means is an automatic suspension and will be met by the Old Guard and their associates who will be overseeing the Guild War via flying machine, magic, and other means.

3. Though it is not recommended for non competing guilds to traverse the Hub, if they so wish to reach another area via the Gates, they should distinguish their peaceful travel with a white armband.

4. If—

“Oh crap,” muttered Alex, tossing the Esem Monitor on the table. The smell of burning eggs from the kitchen of Strawberry Meadows hung in the air. He quickly bustled his girth out of the dining room which he was preparing for breakfast and made for the stove.

“Crap, crap, crap, crap,” he muttered. He turned the heat down on the stove and removed the eggs. When he had first found the kitchen of Strawberry Meadows, the oven—some kind of magical invention from Great Nexia—had confused and perplexed him for all of five seconds. He had wondered if in his life in the Old World whether he had been a chef, as the ins and outs of cooking came quite naturally to him. Despite this, at least once a week he would burn the eggs.

“I’ll just give the burnt ones to Thomas,” Alex said under his breath. At the thought of the little boy, Alex placed the eggs on the counter and checked the door which led into the dining room. The dining room was quite massive, and had a table that could easily sit twelve people. Normally he would enjoy these quiet morning moments looking at the ancient paintings which adorned the walls, or appreciating the fine woodworking which had gone into every piece of the chairs, but the other night he had seen Thomas sneaking off to the main door and acting suspiciously.

His worry were confirmed, as when he gently propped the door open just a couple inches, and saw a bucket which had been perched at the top, ready to drench whichever unfortunate Bane came through.

Probably meant for me, Thought Alex, privately fuming. He “defused” the prank with a broom handle, expertly catching the handle of the bucket and gently lowering it to the wood paneling of the floor below. A quick inspection revealed that Thomas had halfway filled the bucket with milk.

“He’s getting lazy,” came a female voice behind Alex.

Shivers akin to an icy waterfall dousing his body traveled from the base of his spine to his skull. He slowly stood up and turned around.

“Good morning, Lady Tergara,” said Alex.

The ghost was dressed the same as the day she had died: A fashionable robe of blue silk which clung around her shoulders and hung over her curves. In life her hair had been a dark blonde, and her eyes peeked out from behind long bangs which she continuously clawed away from her eyes. She was slightly translucent and Alex could see the table and the places he had set for the guild through her body. Besides the general spooky atmosphere which she brought to Strawberry Meadows, the most off putting aspect of her appearance was the bloody wound which had killed her centuries before.

“You’re staring again,” said Tergara with a huff.

“Sorry” stammered Alex, quickly moving his eyes away from the axe which was buried in her shoulder, and the blood which had stained the silk. “Didn’t mean too.”

“It’s fine,” said Tergara with a sigh. “I am used to my invaders disrespecting my privacy. In my day if a player had disrespected me so, however, there would have been hell to pay, but not by me, of course. My husband Maximo would have squashed the discourteous rascal in his arms.”

The Maximo who gave you that axe, thought Alex to himself.

“Anyway,” sniffed the ghost. “Do you have the time?”

“It’s just about 730,” said Alex.

“730, you say?” Perked up Tergara, a shy smile crossing her face. “Well, I suppose that is my cue.”

Alex didn’t have time to step out of the way, and so settled for covering his ears as quickly as he could. Tergara’s eyes widened like saucers and a blood curdling scream ripped from her mouth which stretched far wider than any living human could have managed.

“DEAAAAAAAAAAAAATH,” she screeched, and then flew through Alex, sending another icy chill across his body, and out the dining room where her cries filled the manor of Strawberry Meadows.

Every morning, like clockwork, Tergara began the day with this exact display. Though in the beginning it had been frightening, over time the Seven Banes had managed to calm her down enough that she had agreed to keep her screams to only the early hours of the day, which also acted as an alarm for the Banes. Of course, the evening was still her domain, and she liked to try and scare the Banes with bodiless footsteps, rearranging furniture, and even making the suits of armor which silently stood guard around the manor lunge for passerby’s usually to their fright.

Alex knew that he had precisely four minutes before the first of the Banes made it to the dining room, and so got the last of the breakfast to the table, taking a couple minutes longer on Amelie’s place setting which he had set beside his own. He carefully arranged her fork and knife, and made sure to fill her mug half with coffee and half with milk, which he knew was her favorite. He always considered placing a flower above the plate but as of yet had not mustered up the courage to do so.

“G’morning,” came a sleepy Brent from the door.

“Morning, Brent,” returned Alex, quickly moving away from Amelie’s table setting. “Sleep okay, I hope?”

“Yeah, man,” Brent yawned and eyed the table. “Eggs and steak, eh? Not bad, buddy.”

“Well, today’s a special day,” said Alex. “Have you seen Chase?”

“Dunno,” said Brent, sitting at his customary place at the table where he could still see the door. “No…wait…I think he was chasing Thomas around.”

As Brent was pouring his own coffee, Alex couldn’t help but scan his friend. Sometimes he wondered whether his powers of observation were a gift, or a curse. With just a glance he could take in information that he believed evaded the notice of more regular people, and something that he prided himself on.

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Dark bags under his eyes, didn’t sleep well last night, probably been about a month since he last cut his hair cut, calluses on his knuckles where he’s been striking the punching bag. As Alex returned to the kitchen to fetch the last of the meal, his mind would not stop its litany of Brent. He’s grown at least an inch since Birchtown, so maybe 5 foot ten inches, he’s leaner, but also more broad around the shoulders, borrowed some clothes his room in the manor and is sporting the bathrobe he found in the—

His racing catalogue was cut short by a voice in the dining room, and so he hurried back out and placed the last rasher of bacon on the table.

“Morning, Alex.”

Claire, thought Alex. Appearing more upbeat than usual, will of course sit next to Brent, she’s been growing her hair out and has it in a warriors bun, she hasn’t grown in height like Brent but has a—

“What are you staring at?” Said Claire quizzically. She took her seat next to Brent who offered her some coffee.

“Sorry,” said Alex. “Um, excited for today?”

“I mean we will see,” said Claire with a sigh. “Do you think he finally got level 8?”

“I mean, Chase said he would be today,” began Brent with a wave of his hand. “But you know—oh, speak of the devil.”

“GOOD MORNING BANES!” Came Marlon, holding the dining room doors wide. He had his arms spread out wide as though he stood before an adoring audience.

“Morning, Marlon,” Brent, Claire, and Alex said in weary unison.

“Do you have to always do that?” Said Brent irritably. “Between you and the ghost there’s hardly a moment of quiet in this place.”

Alex watched as Marlon took a seat at the head of the table, which Alex always set for Chase but which the old man always claimed for himself.

Still old, still bearded, his daily ‘good morning’ was a decibel or two quieter than usual, perhaps he hasn’t achieved level 8, yet, Alex thought.

“So?” Said Claire, eyeing Marlon. “Did you do it?”

“Do what, my lady?” Said Marlon innocently, ignoring the coffee he went straight for the steak and bacon, helping himself to a hefty amount that Alex knew he would not finish.

“You know what,” said Brent, taking a sip of the coffee. He made a face and looked into his coffee mug. “I’m sorry Alex, I know the others like your coffee, but I don’t think I ever will. It’s not you—just coffee in general.”

“How about some milk?” Said Claire quickly.

“I guess.”

Marlon was just opening his mouth to speak when a great commotion came from out side.

“How many times have I told you?”

“Told me what? You’re not the boss of me!”

“I am literally the boss of you, Tommy. I am the guild leader!”

“What’s wrong? It was just some water!”

“I don’t care! Back in the old days I would have been strung up by my thumbs for what you just did.”

“The old days the old days,” came a mocking voice. “Geez, I stole that tobacco for you, you would think you would be more—.”

“Hush about that,” came a stern yet slightly fervent voice. “If Amelie know she’d—.”

The doors once again burst open and in came Chase and Thomas. Chase had Thomas by the shoulder, roughly directing him to the dining room table. Alex’s mind charged like a locomotive.

Chase is annoyed, Thomas is annoying, Chase is in his warrior leathers but doesn’t have his bow in sight, Thomas is still dressed in his night gown for some reason, Thomas comes up to Chase’s elbow now, guess he grew as well, thought Alex.

“Sit,” said Chase, pointing at the chair next to Marlon.

The little boy huffed but did as he was told.

“Good morning, guys,” said Chase. He took his seat opposite of Thomas, still eyeing the boy reproachfully.

“Morning,” intoned the table.

“GOOD—,”

Chase raised his hand.

“Not now, Marlon,” he said. “I haven’t even had my coffee, yet. Wait—.”

The guild leader was about to take a sip from his mug when he seemed to suddenly remember something.

“Did you get it, Marlon?”

“Geph Wgha?” Said Marlon through a mouth full of bacon.

“You know what,” said Chase, but he didn’t seem irritated, only excited. “Can we finally leave Avalon? We’ve been waiting on your last level for over a week.”

“Oh,” said Marlon. He swallowed his mouthful. “I haven’t checked.”

There were groans at the table, but none were less aggravated than Thomas.

“Well check your journal, Marlon!” Said Thomas. “I swear I should have pranked you a lot more these last six months.”

“I didn’t realize one prank a week from you was low,” said Marlon dryly.

“Only one?” Said Alex incredulously.

“You shouldn’t be pranking anyone, Thomas,” said Brent. “It’s immature, and you’re gonna turn ten this year. I think it’s about time you focus on other things.”

“Gotta keep my sneaking skills sharp, you know,” said Thomas cheekily. “Won’t be a Thief much longer.”

“Very true,” said Chase, rubbing his hands together. “Fine, Marlon. Keep it to yourself for now. Where is our mage?”

“I hear her chatting to Tergara in the hallway,” said Claire, pointing at the door with her fork.

“Amelie!” Called Chase, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Get in here!”

“Sorry!” Returned Amelie’s sweet voice. “Sorry, Gara, I have to go.”

As Amelie came in Claire shook her head. Alex knew that she didn’t approve of Amelie’s friendship with the ghost. Alex might have glanced at the reactions of the others, but suddenly his focus was totally captivated.

Auburn hair down to her shoulders, her green eyes appear both sheepish and lovely as she enters the dining room. She quickly finds the place that I set all for her beside me and—. His thoughts were cut off.

“Oh, Alex,” said Amelie, admiring the breakfast. “This all looks so wonderful! Thank you so much.”

The fact that Amelie was the only one who thanked him for all his hard work every morning was the only encouragement he needed to continuing doing so for the rest of his life. A feeling of lightness and air coursed though his body.

“You’re welcome, Amelie,” said Alex. “I hope your steak is alright, I cooked it a bit longer just as you like it.”

Alex could feel at least Thomas rolling his eyes from across the table, but Amelie had such an effect on him that very little could bring him down when he was near her.

“Why thank you,” said Amelie brightly.

“Amelie,” said Claire. “Why do you talk to that ghost all the time?”

“Tergara?” Said Amelie, blinking. “Well, why not? She was Esem’s only Duel Mage when she was living. She’s very interesting, actually.”

“Once you get past all the screaming,” muttered Brent.

“Still,” said Claire. “It seems…unnatural is all.”

Amelie shrugged and set about to her breakfast.

“Alright, Guild,” said Chase suddenly. He glanced at Marlon who was noisily slurping the last of his coffee. “We’ve been here for over six months, and are almost at the end of our first contracts. Ghelion will be coming any day to sign us for our second classes. Let’s go around the table. Thomas.”

“Rogue,” said Thomas.

“Warrior,” said Brent.

“Also Warrior,” said Claire.

“Good, Amelie?” Said Chase when she seemed to not notice it was her turn.

“Hmm?”

Chase sighed.

“We are going over which classes were are signing for.”

“Oh, right,” said Amelie.

“So?”

“So? Oh…” said Amelie. She placed her fork on her plate gently and effected a look of curiosity. “Well, I still haven’t’ really decided.”

“Come on,” said Chase playfully. “Water or Air?”

“Choose Air, Amelie,” said Thomas impishly. “Just like that one mage who made Chase lose all his clothes when they were fighting.”

The table laughed, and even Chase smiled as he shook his head.

“Old grudges mean nothing to the Banes, okay guys? Amelie can choose whichever one she wants. Considering the progress she made through Mage 2 I can’t wait to see what she can do when she has Elemental magic.”

Alex noticed that Amelie did not share in the laughter, and so decided to save her.

“I decided I’ll sign for Mercenary.”

For the first time Brent seemed to fully wake up.

“Mercenary?” Said Brent, eyebrows raised. “Not Warrior?”

Alex shrugged.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while.”

“I mean, I know you mentioned it at Lazerpail,” said Brent. “But you’re gonna lose out on the Warrior abilities, aren’t you?”

“True, but at least we will finally have some money coming in,” said Alex.

“Mercenary is good, I think,” said Chase slowly. “I approve.”

“Your turn, boss,” said Thomas. “What class will the glorious leader of the Seven Banes choose for his second contract?”

“You already know, Thomas. I’ll be signing for the Archer class.”

“A good plan,” said Marlon. “Back to your roots!”

“Right,” said Chase. He looked at Marlon patiently. “Now, are you gonna show us your journal or make us wait until summer?”

An expectant hush fell across the table, and all eyes turned to the oldest member of the Seven Banes. Marlon, as Alex predicted, reveled in the sudden attention and made a great show opening his hands. His journal POP’ed into existence in the palm of his hand.

“Here we go,” said Marlon, relishing the attention. He slowly opened up to a page in the journal near the middle. “Before I go to my stats page I would first like to share a few lines I wrote the other night whilst stewing a potion of—Hey!”

Thomas snatched the journal, and then ran around to the other side of the table in front of the dining room door. He held the journal up triumphantly.

“No bad poetry for me today, old man,” said Thomas.

“You little scamp!” Fumed Marlon. “Give me that thing back it contains my private thoughts!”

“Better give it back, Thomas,” said Brent with a chuckle. “None of us what to hear any of Marlon’s ‘private thoughts.’”

Just as Chase was getting out of his chair to free the journal from Thomas’ grasp, the little boy’s face lit up.

“Ah HA! Marlon is level 8! We can all sign new contracts!”

“Finally!” Said Claire, her face lighting up.

“Yes,” said Brent. “We’re gonna be Warriors! Chase how soon can Ghelion get here?”

“First of all,” said Chase raising a hand for silence. The chattering disappeared as they listened to their leader. “Thomas, don’t ever steal someone’s notebook. I’ve seen players killed for that.”

“Oh I don’t want to kill him,” said Marlon with a sigh. “Perhaps you would allow me to use him as a test subject sometime?”

“Um, no, Marlon,” said Amelie. “I told you no more using Thomas as a…what was it?”

“Guinea pig,” said Alex, trying to sound helpful.

Thomas dutifully walked back around the table and handed Marlon the notebook. He muttered a small apology and then took his seat back at the table.

“As for Ghelion, well,” said Chase. He sat back looking pleased with himself. “I sent for him last night, anticipating the last batch of potions Marlon made got him over the edge for level eight. He should be here tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow, you say?” Said Marlon, raising his eyebrows. “Then who is that that has been knocking on our front door?”

“DEAAAAAAAAAAAAATH,” screamed Targara from the foyer.