The very next day Constance, Matthew, and Isaac all had horrible food poisoning.
They had gone to another inn, the Morning Lark, and had finished off the evening with a richer meal. Then their deserts had gone to war with their stomachs, and these deserts had won.
“Do the healing, healer,” Pern said. “Isn’t that in your title?”
“Magic’s not coming out of my fingers right now,” Constance said. “It’s coming through… other places. Sorry.”
This was a problem.
Pern was a lady knight and an S-Rank Warrior, one of only ten in the world. She had earned her reputation when she uncovered a conspiracy leading straight to the Guildmaster himself. His aides had transported slaves and sold them to unscrupulous heroes who used them in their parties, and after his involvement was exposed to the public, he had no choice but to resign.
“I congratulate you on your success,” King Galon had said to her back then. “To think that you were courageous enough to take on one of my closest lieutenants and emerge in a great victory.”
“Thank you, your Grace.”
“You’ve been promoted to S-Rank, and that has certain responsibilities. I see you’ve had a 100% success rate thus far, so maintaining the quest clear requirement will be easy. But you’ll also need to finish them at a certain speed.
“I’m sending you to Mazevale; consider it a vacation while you adjust to your new role. Three easy quests, two weeks to complete them. And my retainers will personally escort you.”
Mazevale? That faraway town in the woods?
“—I won’t take objections,” Galon had continued. “You deserve repose.”
So here Pern was, at a luxurious inn in a state of pure panic. Her long hair was frizzed, and her fingers twisted themselves in an anxious web.
Any given quest could take up to five days to clear. She had to be perfect! And because of her “ill-constitutioned” companions she was already behind.
She ran to the Adventurers’ Guild all alone, and scanned its Quest Board.
“Huff… killing one hundred elmens, huff… I’ll take that one as my first quest, please.”
“You need a party to take on quests Rank C and above,” the receptionist said politely. She wore a professional smile and a name tag that dubbed her Estelle. “As an S-Rank Adventurer, you must surely know that’s an important safety rule.”
Pern dug out her Adventure Badge, and which summoned a magical floating box:
Pern, S-Rank Adventurer
Level 90 Warrior
Skills
[Swordmaster S]
[Thunder S]
[Quick Step B]
[Rapid Regeneration C]
[Enhanced Inventory]
“I am a party!” Pern replied, pointing at each one in turn.
[Swordmaster S] ← Warrior skill
[Thunder S] ← Mage skill
[Quick Step B] ← Rogue skill
[Rapid Regeneration C] ← Healer skill
“But you’re a person, not a party,” said Estelle.
“Eh?”
“If you bake your own birthday cake, light your own candles, give a gift to yourself, and sing ‘happy birthday’ through your own tears, can you really call that a ‘party’?” Estelle said very politely.
“That’s not— I don’t— how did you—”
“That’s the kind of energy you give off when you claim that your Adventuring Party’s full. But if you’re in need of friends, we’re hosting a “Lonely Adventurer” meet and greet at the end of the week!’
To tell the truth, Pern did need friends. But more than that, she needed a quest!
“Actually, it was called a “Lone Adventurer” meet. My mistake.”
“If you know who all the solo Adventurers are, that means you must have a list of freelancers somewhere, right? Gimme it now! I mean… gimme the list of lone Adventurers, please.”
Estelle sighed, slid open a drawer, and presented a long flat sheet.
“If you are in immediate need of a party member, you can probably find one in that place. But if you’re in need of friends, please just wait for the meet and greet instead.’
Pern snatched the sheet, hesitated, then took a smiley-faced meetup brochure before she stormed out.
***
The Morning Lark on the town’s west side was an upscale hotel popular amongst A, B, and C-Rank Adventurers. Unfortunately, that place also had a large outbreak of food poisoning that spared none bar Pern.
The other inn that was popular amongst Adventurers was, of course, the Four-Leaf Inn. It was just before noon, but already there were a half-dozen men and women carousing in the bar.
On one barstool was a burly D-Rank with an eyepatch—his name was Righteous Tim, because he always favored the right side of his vision when he attacked monsters.
Then there was an E-Rank named Five Finger Sue. The number of fingers on her hands were unremarkable, but how she managed to get five-finger discounts from every merchant in town was the stuff of legends (and a suspended ten-year prison sentence from crown prosecutors).
Yet no recitation of regulars would be complete without mentioning Rick, who had his own nickname.
The Failure Adventurer.
“Two beers,” Eliza said. “And two new lines on your tab. I’m going to start charging you for the ink I waste writing this, and also, where’d you storm off last night?”
“Firewatch.”
He stuffed his mouth with bread.
“Four-Leaf Inn made of wood,” Rick said. “Matthew a fire mage. A real hothead. Recipe for disaster if mad.”
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Is that so?” said Eliza. “I heard that the Morning Lark had a disastrous recipe yesterday; that their gelato had all been poisoned. Did you have something to do with that?”
“No,” said Rick. “Only an Adventurer would punish a group for the acts of a single person. Slaying 100 goblins just cause one of them’s a raider or a thief.”
The only explicit requirement to become an Adventurer was to have at least one special skill, like Matthew’s Fire A or Pern’s Thunder S. Adventurers could either have these skills innately or acquire them from quest rewards from the guild.
But an implicit requirement was a willingness to accept whatever request the Guild gave you. If the Guild ordered you to bring home twenty goblin carcasses, then one brought a score of skeins home. If the Guild told you to collect chicken eggs and gave you a wet sock as a reward, one didn’t question it. This obedience was one aspect among many at which Rick was a failure.
“Most Adventurers are crazy. Wouldn’t pay them any thought,” Rick continued, and Pern burst through both doors. “Ah, there’s that hot lady knight from yesterday.”
Eliza’s plain clothes fell nicely on her lithe figure. Pern, meanwhile, was ensconced in armor, but parts of her practically spilled out.
“Hear, hear!” Pern shouted. “I, S-Rank legend, have come to offer everyone a grand opportunity! Lady Pern Arienette is recruiting members for a temporary party.”
The murmuring Adventurers turned their attention towards this pretty little upstart. An S-Rank! At Mazevale, at the Four Leaf Inn? They eyed her as though she were a condor who had flown into a city park. .
“Our work will be simple but honest,” said Pern. “Mob cleaning—killing one hundred elmens before sundown. Whose sword will join me?”
“What’s in it for us?” Sue asked. “You won’t have our weapons free ‘o charge.”
Pern thought for a little bit. Her forehead wrinkled, then smoothed: “We’ll split the spoils based on the the monsters each person slays”
Looking around the tavern, none of them were healers, and their enemies would be mostly fodder anyway. So Pern might have thought that deal was fair.
But in reality she had made a grave mistake. She had spent many years grinding monsters to achieve an S-Rank status and had forgotten the skill gap between her and the others. The biggest “bosses” most of these Adventurers had faced were extended fetch quests, and while they could handle slimes and goblins, if they hunted them with Pern they’d have killed only one by the time she finished the other ninety-nine.
The young woman sensed the awkward silence that followed, even if she didn’t understand its cause.
“N-not only that, by fighting alongside an S-Rank, you’ll get plenty of renown too!”
“Paid in exposure? I’ll pass…” said Five Finger Sue, and the other Adventurers murmured their agreement.
Pern had taken charge of the Four-Leaf Inn through sheer pluck, but when her novelty faded, so too did the Adventurers’ attentions. Different conversations layered over one another til a rumbled echo filled the space.
And none of those conversations included her.
“But I…” Pern slumped at the bar. “I guess I really do have trouble making friends. But when it comes to questing that shouldn’t matter.”
She had a one hundred percent success rate for every task she accepted. That required not just a relentless work ethic but also a willingness to settle with whatever team was best for the job, so she had bounced from party to party her whole life. She had known Matthew, Constance, and Isaac for just one month, about the time it took to travel from the capital to Mazevale.
She hated to admit it, but the “person” she was closest to was Mr. Buns, a fluffed toy she secretly kept in her travel bag. Even her parents were long since dead and it had been years since she had been given a love-filled meal.
“Warm onion soup and a drink for you Ma’am.”
“...oh.”
The soup had bread crumbs melted fondue; though it was called ‘onion soup’ its scent was light. The beverage was orange juice, fresh and revitalizing.
“It’s courtesy of the man in the back.” Rick gave a smile and a meandering wave, and Pern’s eyes lit up.
“He’s trying to pick you up.” Eliza continued, and Pern flung her plate against the wall.
“More debt,” Rick muttered in the background, and Pern bit back.
“An adventurer, is he? Then I suppose I’ll pick him up first.”
She sauntered over, ignoring ominous words muttered by the onlookers. Words like “E-Rank” and “useless” and “failure.”
“I’m Pern, an S-Rank Adventurer in the Warrior Class. You’re not on the Guild list, but if Matthew knows you, you must be an Adventurer too.”
She touched his hand, and his Adventurer Info popped up.
Rick, E-Rank Adventurer
Level 1 Man
“What’s with your weird title?” Pern said.
“Are you doubting that I’m a man?” Rick retorted. “In fact, that title itself means I’m manly by definition.”
“And those skills…”
Information Resistance S [active]
Hidden
Hidden
Hidden
Hidden
Hidden
Hidden
“What kind of useless anti-social skill is that!?”
“S-Rank,” called out Righteous Tim, from across the bar. “I wouldn’t pick Rick if I were you. He’s failed every single quest he’s been on. Your chance of winning is zero, even if you’re just fighting slimes.”
“So, he’s worse than useless. I get it now.”
Pern looked around the bar, and the other Adventurers avoided eye contact. It was as if she had turned into a gorgon.
“Done already?” Rick said.
She bowed.
“I’m sorry. Please join my party.”
“Hell no.”
“But, you liked me, didn’t you?”
“You wasted my food.”
“This guy…!” Pern grimaced, then muttered to herself. “But, I can handle him. He calls himself a man, but he looks and acts more like a teenager—nowhere near a real nineteen year old adult like me. So I guess I’ll use a nice tactical trick.”
“Hey, hey.” Pern smirked. “Let’s make a deal.”
“”I’m listening,” Rick said, and Eliza swept in to refill their drinks. He would consider payment, but only because he was swamped in debt. Whatever coins Pern gave him would likely go straight to the bar owner.
“’I’ll give you two cups.” Pern said.
“...Of beer?”
“Of boobs.”
“Boobs!?”
Pern was still kneeling, looking up. ”And you seriously call yourself a man? I all ask is one little itty bitty quest, and then these great, big—”
“—up,” challenged Rick. Then: “Payment. Up front. ”
“Up front?!” It was Pern’s turn to be shocked.
“Someone might say, do this or that and I’ll let you touch my boobs. But it’s too easy for them to get away with giving you nothing. If you’re serious about this, it has to be up front.”
“Y-you’re saying you don’t trust me?” Pern said. “The word of I, Pern, S-Rank Adventurer?”
“You’d muttered something very suspicious about that tactical trick. Half up front, half later,” Rick negotiated. “Starting with the one on the right.”
Pern had in her inventory a set of large seagull monster corpses colloquially known as “boobies,” which she was going to give to Rick at the quest’s end. Of course Pern was never going to just let him touch her! She wasn’t that kind of person! Right? Right? Right
Despite everything, the simple honesty in Rick’s voice refreshed her; and when she had brought up his skill box she had felt something of a spark. Pern glanced at her broken plate.
“...I-I accept.”
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, you know.”
“I gave you my word! So…” Pern said, closing her eyes as Rick’s own eyes went wide. The people in the bar went about their business: drinking, eating, talking, laughing, ignoring the tense S and E-Rank pair.
Someone’s hands slid over her chest, and Pern flushed as they touched her. Even though the hands were above her iron armor, her breathing became short and rough.
She half opened her eyes in a haze—that immediately cleared away.
“Why is it the innkeeper that’s touching me!?”
“Rick owes one thousand copper marks! All his possessions are mine!!” Eliza said, continuing to grasp.
“Wait!! That’s the full payment!! Stop!!! Stop!!!”
It was over by the time Rick finished his beer.
“Ha…”
Pern was both relieved and disappointed that things had stopped where they did. She had almost started to feel things.
“So it’s done,” she said, as she folded her arms, wishing the feeling would go away. “I mean, Eliza did it… but if you’re not happy… it’s possible… later… or in a different place…?”
“I was teasing you,” Rick said. “I can’t take advantage of someone as desperate as that, even if you are kinda cute.”
“Then why did I grope her in the first place?” Eliza gazed at her twitching fingers with a thousand-yard stare.
Pern looked surprised. “You’re an unmarried hundred fifty year old elf with no kids. I thought you were…?”
“I’m not old and… I’m… not… gay!!!”
Afterwards, Eliza had a minor revelation regarding the nuances of comedy, anxiety, and her own sexuality. If she had the thoughtfulness and eloquence to pen this idea into a memoir, it would have very likely won the Regnum Kingdom’s literary prize.
But alas, the tale of the ‘Failure Adventurer’ is not that kind of story, so please be satisfied with the chaos in the bar.