Quent- Shadowscale stepped through the dilapidated doors of the old barn by Moray fields. It had been Harold who had arranged the exact meeting location for the battles and Ella had relayed it to Quenton in turn.
I look so badass. There were a few discrete lamps lit and placed on various barrels in the open barn room and he was pretty sure that the light reflected off his crimson mask. His footfall resonated through the rotted building as the planks beneath him sagged.
It had taken Quenton time to adjust to the entire outfit, he had almost gotten the cape dirty multiple times in spite of his skills because it kept getting snagged onto things or drag along the wet ground. His boots were equally unwieldy as the stacked soles inside them left him unsteady at first. However, all of the posture and walking practice that Mrs. Seaver had put him through had helped him manage.
The biggest issue was that it was hard to see through the holes in the mask even with the adjustments, the outfit's warmth and itchiness didn’t help matters. Hopefully, I don’t have to stay in this for too long.
Harold was seated on a stool, whittling away at a pale piece of wood. He couldn’t see what he was crafting, though he didn’t care enough to ask. Outside, Hop flew in circles awaiting their dramatic entrance.
Harold looked him over and he could swear that he heard a restrained snort. His face was casually jovial as usual, leaving Quenton unable to discern any sign of amusement. Harold rose from his seat and took a shallow bow.
“G’day mi…er, that is…g’day milord. The toffs haven’t arrived yet, but I wager I glimpsed carriage movements down the old hill road.” Harold strode over to Shadowscale and he resisted the urge to fidget at his proximity. When they were almost face to face, he leaned forward conspiratorially and whispered.
“So…how are ye gonna cheat?” Harold asked, his voice a low rasp with a hint of curiosity.
“I shan’t cheat, I’ll win or lose on my own merits.” Shadowscale proclaimed, surprised at the suggestion. A hero dosen’t cheat. He mused, not that there was a need to cheat anyway. Not when with Hop by his side.
Harold’s bushy eyebrows rose and he looked at Quenton for a long moment before nodding sharply. “Oh, yes, yes of course. You’ll do so fairly, understood, mi…lord. It oughtn’t come to it but if any of these lot decide to get ornery about losing, I’ll put em’ down hard.” Shadowscale could only blink at that last part of the statement.
“I…will try to remember that.” He eventually said before the silence could become awkward. Then he looked out to the other side of the barn to the second entrance as he heard wheels and the sound of hooves against soil coming up. Lights flowed through the cracks in the building and the door as four carriages came to a stop outside of the abandoned barn.
Shadowscale heard people talking and laughing as a group of fifteen walked in with seven small monsters trailing after them. They were dressed richley in bright colorful garments, their jewelry shining in the candle light.
All but one were men who appeared to be in their early twenties, the one woman amongst them stood out in a gleaming silver outfit with a neckline plunging far further down than was typical of this world. Some of the men were rather handsome, but that impression fled once the groups stepped into the room and they saw Shadowscale.
Laughter erupted from the assembled gamblers and noblemen as they saw him and he felt horribly small for a moment. Suddenly he was Quenton again, back in school being tormented, the butt of every joke.
The cruel laughter washed over him and he felt the same shame he had felt while meeting Aliza Warwin, his face flushed beneath the mask and he considered fleeing. No. The thought emerged like the sun through a storm. I’m not going to run away. I’m not the same know-nothing Aliza humiliated and I’m not the same nerd I was at school. Quenton had power in this world, he had a badass wyvern by his side and he had a gaming system to back him up.
He raised his head, his chin up and slowly raised his hand up into the air. For a long moment he paused and then snapped, the sound nearly lost in the clamor of the room. The laughter faded as a screech split the night. Hop dove through the air, a gray shadow and landed elegantly on the floor in front of Quenton.
It is at least bright enough here to make Hop be disadvantaged. Like I instructed. The men all looked at his gray painted bat wyvern for a moment, some looked impressed and others sneered. Harold took that opportunity to step forward and clasp his hands together.
“Welcome, milords, gentlemen, milady.” He winked lecherously to the woman who stood with her arms hooked with one of the older gentlemen who wore a tight-fitting black suit. The crowd remained impassive as Harold continued. “Right, so, this here wyvern stands undefeated in battle and so we decided that we ought to invite the very best in the country to try and claim that title for themselves. That of undefeated monster, I mean.”
He smiled broadly before gesturing around the abandoned building and then over to Shadowscale. “This one tisn’t much for words, but he’s got gold to his name. Take the title and you take the gold, of course that goes both ways. You’ve got to put up a stake before you battle and the victor takes all.” Harold grinned and clasped his hands together. A brief murmur went through the crowd before a young man stepped out with a dog-sized lizard on a leash.
He looked over Shadowscale dismissively before handing a leather purses to Harold with a grin.
“Let us put our host to the test. I do hope your pet can put up a half decent fight.” The man was blonde with delicate pretty features, but it was marred by his contemptuous sneer.
The lizard creature hissed, it was white with sharp spinal ridges and two pulsing orbs in place of eyes.
Hop and the lizard went forward within the impromptu fighting circle while Harold gathered bets. “I hope you’ve braced for defeat.” The young man bragged and Shadowscale smiled beneath his mask, the lizard had an obvious limp in the back legs as they looked too stumpy for his size. In reply he merely nodded and when Harold turned to give them to go-ahead via a thumbs up. Shadowscale only had to snap his fingers again to send Hop into the fight.
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Well, I haven’t had to use my trump card yet. That is both a good and a bad thing. Hop had finished three fights in relatively quick succession with few issues. The lizard creature had gone down easy, while it was bigger than Hop, the legs of the monster made it unable to properly shift it’s weight. Hop had been easily able to wrestle it to the ground and batter it with talon and wing until Shadowscale called him off.
The crowd had not been happy with the bloodless fight, several attendants had booed and muttered comments about his “ladylike quarreling.” Shadowscale didn’t really mind their whining. I am here to get xp and try out a move, not maim innocent animals. He thought acidically as the booing continued throughout each fight.
Second they’d fought some kind of strange insectoid creature that could launch spike projectiles. Hop had little issue dodging them, his hearing allowing him to perceive the spikes long before they made contact. The battle had ended after Hop managed to confront the insect up close.
Shadowscale had to intervene or at least he thought he had to, because he wasn’t entirely sure that Hop wouldn’t think that he were fighting some kind of large grasshopper. It had scuttled back to its owner, abashed but relatively uninjured after the fight. The middle aged man who owned it had petulantly left, as his compatriots had ribbed him pretty relentlessly afterwards.
I guess insect monsters are even less in fashion than wyverns, huh. He thought at the time as the third opponent had readied himself. This one had been one of the younger men and he had unleashed some kind of hellhound. It had been incredibly vicious, smelled of sulfur and rotting kelp, and had horrible glowing eyes.
Hop had still won because it looked like some sort of malformed bulldog rather than a german shepherd or something similar. But it had still been frightening to see the two animals hissing, striking, and wrestling at and with one another. This third fight had to end messily because the dog simply refused to give in and the same went for the owner.
So, Hop had to batter the dog until it passed out and he could safely retreat back to Shadowscale. He knelt down and fed him a dried grasshopper from a pouch he kept on his person.
“Good job, you can do it. I know it, you aren’t inbred like these others are.” Shadowscale smiled as the next competitor sent their bird familiar out to face Hop in an aerial battle.
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“What do I think about monster breeding?” Viola responded to Quenton’s question with an arched eyebrow and barely disguised disgust. “I will tell you what I think, Briony. It is an unsafe and frankly harmful practice that has horrible consequences on the animals in question. They are forced to interbreed to the point of preposterousness.” Viola turned her back to him and began searching through the bookshelves while explaining her reasoning.
“Frankly I am glad that your Hop was a mutt because I would not countenance that practice being rewarded in our home, if you came with me to the village you could learn more about this in the charity I run.” Viola was far into her rant and had pulled out several books before she realized that Quenton had disappeared from the library.
He walked away with a smug smile across his face as his plans began to form.
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Even with the bright lights Hop managed to tear through the various monsters with relative ease. Shadowscale had gone from worried to prideful and then over to being annoyed. I was supposed to test out my trump card, and get xp from this. So far I am just getting the xp without any real chance to test it out.
He stopped himself after having that thought as Shadowscale realized it was quite ridiculous to complain about receiving easy xp. The prompts were waiting in the back of his mind, he could feel them practically vibrating as each fight ended with Hop winning.
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The woman in the sparkly dressed whispered in the ear of the last remaining competitor and he stepped forward with a smirk. “My companion here wants me to offer you a chance to withdraw your…beast instead of fighting me.” His speech was slurred by what Shadowscale guessed was drink, but he stood steady and he smirked. Quenton sensed that he was the highest ranking man in the room, it was more notable than any of the people he had met so far.. There was no visible monster near him, which made Shadowscale wonder while Harold looked over to him to see if he reacted.
Shadowscale made his decision quickly and shook his head once. Harold turned and said, “My patron here thinks that his wyvern can still hold his own. The man smirked and pushed the sorry remains of his brown hair back before turning to his compatriots. “Gentlemen, let me now show you how things are truly done in my circles.” He winked at his companion before pulling an ugly, black ring out of his blazer’s pocket.
It was a strange thing which seemed to be formed out of some sort of coral or dried wood at a glance, with a sickly orange gem placed on it. He pointed the ring down at the floor and spoke a word that made Shadowscale’s head hurt.
The first thing he noticed once the brief headache passed was the scent of salt in the air, followed by an overpowering sensation of wet slime across his skin despite the fact that nothing touched him. Out of the ring, a creature crawled out and with a wet sucking sound, hit the floor before it began to unfold itself.
Cobwebs and kelp spread out to form strange limbs, some like tentacles and others more solid and akin to a crab. Multiple eyes could be spotted through the folds of the creature’s layered “skin” as it rose up and stood about at the same size as a small dog, if one didn’t count the many retractable limbs.
“Stygianspawn.” One of the older noblemen squeaked out as he looked scandalized and held a gloved hand up before his mouth. The summoner turned and gave a court nod to the man. “Quite right Ernest, that is indeed what this is. We play with higher stakes where I mingle and I thought a demonstration by one of your betters would be…appropriate after the display you all have given me tonight.”
Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. That is some kind of eldritch horror monster, not an inbred show animal. I need to get Hop out of here. Shadowscale thought rapidly as he saw the middle aged man turn to him and grin. “If your little companion here can beat my guest, then I am going to have to double the price. Don’t you agree?”
Quest: Stygianspawn
Description: You are facing an unexpected obstacle as the Night Quarrels comes to an end and a far darker duel is forced upon you. Your opponent has summoned a Stygianspawn which you assume is most likely more than a match for your companion. As you have already accepted the duel you cannot withdraw from it without significant social consequences. Hop is willing to fight, are you willing to risk it all?
Objective: Ensure that Hop survives the duel, additional hidden objectives can be achieved.
XP: 20
Accept: N/A
Shadowscale blinked away the quest prompt as it forced itself into his vision. The shock of seeing the horrible creature that was summoned had almost jolted him out of his persona, but he held on as he took a deep breath and surveyed the room. All the gathered noblemen looked to range from various expressions of horror to scandalized and with a good dose of terror mixed in as well, the monsters were trembling in fear behind their masters. Hop trembled himself, but he stood his ground nonetheless. And Harold, well Harold was just smoking a cigar while having a hand in his pocket.
I wonder if I had aura sensing powers or something like that, if I could feel something radiate off that thing. He wondered was the slimy creature that reeked of decay and the sea crawled forward. Shadowscale clapped once as he had practiced with Hop, and he took to the air immediately flapping up.
The Stygianspawn sent his tentacles up to try and pull Hop from the air and he barely managed to avoid the corrupted appendage, and Shadowscale barely managed to hold back a concerned yell. The tentacle had visibly stretched and expanded out from the creature. Does it have extra mass? He wondered as the wildly flailing tentacles forced Hop to land before he could be pulled in to a grapple.
While Shadowscale was busy pondering the Stygianspawn was growing more tentacles out and they almost practically formed a miniature roof above the battlefield now, but the core body of the creature was unchanged.
The summoner smirked as he mockingly snapped his fingers just like Shadowscale had. Nothing happened as the two monsters circled one another, or rather Hop attempted to circle while the Stygianspawn stood still. But then the tentacle tips pointed gently down to the ground before they began to slam into the floor.
Right before Hop could be hit Shadowscale stomped with his right foot, which was a signal to make him roll. And roll he did, Hop rolled with all of his speed as the tentacles almost shattered the wooden floor in their quest to smash him into pulp.
Oh my god, he is going to die. He is so fucked. Panicked surged as Hop barely flung himself out of the way, narrowly dodging the creatures’ strikes for almost an entire minute until another fingersnap resounded throughout the abandoned building. “I came here for a proper quarrel and not an athletic display stranger. While I am sure my pet could keep this match going until he captures your little wyvern, that would hardly be properly sporting would it?” The summoner rubbed his bearded chin thoughtfully as he smirked at Shadowscale. “Why don’t we make this more…entertaining.” He spoke another command in the foreign tongue and the tentacles on the beast retracted themselves fully into its body.
The Stygianspawn did not noticeably change as it now only had the strange imitations of crab limbs to move with. It didn’t even have the tentacles it used for walking, which made Shadowscale wonder where the extra mass went. He is trying to bait me into making Hop try to grapple with that thing. He realized as he looked back at the smirking man.
Something told him that the creature would still win even without any visible grappling limbs at the ready. Thankfully, we now have the air back to work with even if I doubt that Hop noticed that. The wyvern was visibly tired as he panted almost like a dog while getting back up from laying on his back.
It is now or never I suppose. Shadowscale thought before he rapidly clapped three times, the trump card signal. Hop took to the air immediately and began unleashing his breath attack down on the ground. It took only moments to cover the entire floor in smoke. “What are you-,” the summoner never finished his sentence before Hop dove into the smoke and attacked the horrific beast.
Hop had fought the entire battle without being able to see due to the bright light emitted from the various candles and lights that Shadowscale had made Harold place here. Snarls, hissing, and various eldritch mutterings that made the world grow colder emitted from out of the smoke as the two fought.
I knew all my time watching Pokemon would be worth it. Shadowscale thought smugly as he saw the strategy he had copied from memory play out. But he didn’t think that it would be enough against that thing. It probably had all sorts of tricks that could compensate for smoke obscuring its vision.
More smoke flooded out into the room to the loud complaints and yells of the assembled noblemen. His eyes watered beneath the mask as the smoke rose further and further up. Then from the smoke came a horrible agonized screech and the acrid smell of burning flesh.
Did I…did we set it on fire? Quenton thought panickedly as the frenzied screeching continued.
Hop was suddenly by his feet and he could see him nipping at his boots, he reached a soothing hand to Hop and stared at the ring until the smoke slowly cleared.
A candle lay near the abomination, probably fallen from the shelves lining the wall. It shrieked as multiple mouths opened up and it desperately tried to shake the flames off itself.
“No! Return! I mean…” The summoner shouted in surprise and despair while pointing the ring at the creature, a red light flickered and died. The summoner cursed, uttering a strange foreign word and with a red flash, the creature disappeared.
The room was left silent and before Shadowscale could process the fact that Hop had managed to somehow win, the summoner barreled toward him. “You wretched cheat! How dare you use such barbaric tactics in a quarrel!?” He reached out, his hand drawing back to strike. Quenton flinched, stumbling back before halting as the nobleman collapsed.
Above him, Harold stood with what looked like some kind of small wood club, as the nobleman groaned on the filthy floor. “You ought to know ow’ these things work, aye? Smoke an’ such are as fair as fangs an’ claws. Tis no cause for anger here, friend.” Harold said with an easy smile. “So pay the man his due, t’aint like you can’t spare it.”
His voice was calm and casual but his body was tense as he gently tapped his hand with the club. He was prepared to kill this man, Quenton was suddenly certain. A vague sickness rose in his stomach and he moved toward the nobleman, ready to inteceed if Harold tried to strike.
Shadowscale saw the summoner stare up with fury and pain in his eyes at Harold, but after a long moment he got to his feet and brushed himself off. “I see you play by a more…ill-bred set of rules. But I shall do as provincials do I suppose.” He pushed a pouch with money into Harolds waiting hand and with a scoff he stormed out with his companion.
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The night ended rather awkwardly with Harold grinning as he gathered the betting gains and sent everyone off, Shadowscale watched until everyone had left and Harold turned to him. “I ought to see you home, my lady, we don’t want any fools to suppose you’re an easy mark.”
Shadowscale nodded and the two began to wander back. I can’t wait to get out of this outfit. Quenton thought as he let the persona slip from his mind while wandering out into the night air. A rush of emotions were still going through him: joy, excitement, fear, pride, and more besides as he tried to process the events of the night.
“Twas a deft trick you pulled with the smoke,” Harold murmured, running a hand through his hair. “With the mist n’all I managed to glance the bugger with the candle.” Quenton blinked. He hit him with the candle?
“Pardon?” He stuttered, turning his gaze to Harold. “S’right, creature like that would tear through your Hop like a bayonet through a baguette. Figured I ought to give a hand.” Harold shrugged good naturedly, seemingly unbothered by Quenton’s distress.
“I was attempting to win fair and square.” He responded tautly though Harold only shook his head in return. “Ain’t no such thing as fair, my lady, fair is a sweet lie they sell to marks.” That did stop Quenton in his tracks as the straightforward certainty that had buffeted him suddenly faltered like a leaf in the wind.
Quest Completed: Night Quarrels 1
Hop managed to defeat every opponent in the Night Quarrels, which in turn has rendered your persona of Shadowscale more well known. This notoriety will make it easier to organize similar events, but extra eyes on him might make it harder to be Briony Moray…
Reward: 60EXP, Extra Armor for Hop, 1 point of Composure
Quest Completed: Stygianspawn
Hop not only survived but also caused the death of a lesser stygian, a feat that normally would be impossible for a juvenile wyvern. Having caused the death of such a creature has marked him and by extension yourself.
Additional Objective: Cause the Stygianspawn to be slain
Reward: 20 EXP, you and creatures bonded with you will have an increased resistance to Stygian taint and magics.
Note: You have won seven minor social conflicts, as they were all part of a series the rewards have been calculated collectively rather than separately, and have been awarded 81 exp.
Level Up: You have reached Social Level 13(101/140 Exp)
You have gained 1 free Attribute Point to spend
Talent: Detect Weakness, has been added to your talent list
As Quenton walked through the dark woods back to his home the wave of pleasure of all the experience points that he had earned hit him like a miniature typhoon. He could sense tingling in his eyes as the new talent burned itself into his soul, and he could even dimly sense the physical changes as whatever power gave him his class and quests warped him and Hop.
Yet, Quenton managed to keep up his posture and walk in a dignified manner as his sudden increase in Composure did not let him show the sudden turmoil of emotions and physical sensations going through his body. All in all I have to say it was a successful outing. Quenton thought one final time as he got back to the manor.