Hefting the pot off the counter, I'm momentarily surprised by the weight. It feels like it's rather full, in fact, and that alone near doubles the weight. I look to Jomsy in confusion, "What's in it?"
"A pipin' hot batch of pork and haleic seed stew. Chef wanted to thank Maybell for lettin' him borrow it. Speaking of, she lives just across the road, in the house with all the saddles on the fence. Mind you don't drop it now!"
Rolling my eyes, my waist follows a similar motion, turning around and heading for the door, keeping a firm grip on the integral handles. Though not scorching, the longer I maintain contact with the pot, the more the heat of it's contents become apparent. Part of me is infinitely tempted to just take the pot to one side, eat it contents then present the stewpot's owner with a cleaned pot.
Tempting to be sure, but I'm almost certain that Jomsy is going to be paying attention to how long it takes me to get the job done, and I definitely don't have the time to pull off such a scheme. Besides, it would only come back to bite me in the ass later, so why bother making life difficult for myself?
Thankfully, the doors are still open so I'm spared some awkward manoeuvring to get back onto the street, however, my reflexes being what they are and further hampered by the heavy load in my arms, I crash sidelong into someone and stumble back. The pot is secure in my grip, but the jostle causes a small dribble of its delicious savoury contents to roll down the side after escaping the lid's protection.
Incensed, I growl at the idiot, "Oi! Watch where yer fuckin' walkin'! I almost dropped this all over us!"
Taking a closer look, I note that it's that space-case from earlier. Pretty young thing with...admirable assets and a thousand-yard stare that betrays no emotion. It's like she's not even looking at me.
"HEY! Are you sleep-walking or what?!"
If my hands were free I'd try clicking my fingers in front of her face to see if she'd react. But after a good few seconds of glaring, the woman mumbles a truncated apology and keeps walking. As if completely disregarding my existence, the cheeky bitch.
Though my blood is simmering with anger, I decide to stay on task. Still got a job to do, and given how little seems to be going on upstairs in that girl's head, I doubt shouting at her is going to help any. Still, I've seen people who were dead to the world before, both in reality and in the aftermath of the Monster Flood.
Something about her condition just seems ever so subtly off. Somehow. I can't put a finger on why; Just call it a gut feeling.
Displeasure forms a frown on my face. Do I really want to pry into this? I don't want to contradict myself and poke my nose into her business for no good reason.
Taking a few steps, I stop in the middle of the dirt road, groaning. Ok, fine! I can already tell this is going to be really fucking stupid, but when an obvious quest is going out of it's way to give me a second chance to start on it, I guess it behooves me to find out what the fuck the problem is.
Quest Accepted! There's Something About Iffmy... Urgent Local Quest Difficulty: Modest/Extremely Hard
One of the residents of Gilmy Village, a Tender named Iffmy, is acting strangely.
Discover the reason why.
Objective/s:
Investigate the cause of Iffmy's reticence 0/1
???
???
???
Rewards:
???
Failure:
???
As this is your first Urgent Quest an explanation will be given.
You have an extremely limited amount of time to complete an Urgent Quest before it automatically resolves itself.
Though many quests will have time limits associated with certain objectives, the time limit tends to be longer and more susceptible to external influences. In time, these quests too will gain the Urgent Quest classification.
Failing to resolve Urgent Quests in the time limit will force a Quest Failure, and may have drastic consequences.
Good luck!
That's ominous as hell. Can't help but note that it doesn't actually tell me what this 'extremely limited amount of time' is exactly. But I guess having a concrete time limit would detract from the inherent urgency.
Having said that, I don't know if I have minutes or days to do it, so as soon as I'm done delivering this pot I guess I should try asking around. Talking to Iffmy herself seems like an exercise in frustration. Talking to a wall would be more productive than her wall-eyed ass.
A good place to start will be with whoever this pot belongs to. So with that said, I close the distance with the door of the neighbour's house. Just as he said, the side fence is covered in saddles in various states of completion, and a sharp varnish like scent hangs in the air, cutting through the smell of the stewpot's innards.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Hm. Rather a macabre simile.
Lacking free hands and unwilling to remove the cargo from my embrace, I kick the door a couple of times in lieu of knocking. Not too hard though - since I'm not trying to break it down.
"Who's that kickin' my door?" Yells a woman's voice.
"Deliverin' a stewpot Jomsy from across the road borrowed. Hands're full and I didn't wanna shout," I call back calmly. Ok, a little irritated still. Hopefully she doesn't pick up on that though.
"Oh!" The door opens to reveal another young woman similar in age to Iffmy, but a lot stockier in build and braided black hair that goes down to her shoulders, "Why didn't you say so?"
If the area around the house made my nose crinkle, being in the woman's presence only amplifies it, as she positively reeks of whatever chemical solution is responsible for the smell. Likely some sort of leather glue or something. I don't know, I'm not a Seamsmith.
The woman beams, "Ah, something smells good! Come in, come in!"
She turns around and waves for me to follow, "My name's Maybell, by the way. You don't look like anyone I recognise, you come looking for work on the ranches?"
"No, just a traveller passing through from Klennock Village on the way to Mhin."
We walk along a corridor past an even more acrid smelling room into a heavily perfumed kitchen, courtesy of several sprigs of pungent herbs and a bowl of flowers. Maybell looks at me in mild surprise, "Really? Didn't think folks really left Klennock."
I grunt. True, most of the villagers tend to stay put. I mean, when you're that far away from the capital and the nearest town is about a week's travel away, leaving home is a fairly daunting prospect for most. We don't get a lot of new blood in, but the village has been around for a really long time, so apparently, it gets enough to avoid going full hillbilly.
"Oh, didn't mean to pry..." Maybell smiles nervously, wringing her hands, "Just leave it on the stovetop, would you?"
Complying, I respond evenly, "I don't particularly mind. Doing a separate favour for the village Alder- I mean, the village Mayor."
"That a fact? Sounds like a real adventure, going all the way to Mhin."
Shrugging, I dust off my hands and stretch my fingers, "Suppose it does. Job's done then."
Quest Complete! Our Daily Bread Personal Quest Difficulty: Simple
Fulfilling your promise to the Innkeep, you completed the mundane task of delivering a stewpot to the rightful owner.
Rewards:
Marginally Increased Fame in Gilmy Village
Improved relationship with Jomsy, the Innkeeper
Speak to Jomsy to receive your promised reward of 1x Bread Roll
Folding her arms across her apron, Maybell gives a throaty chuckle, "So it is. Anything I can do for you in return?"
"I'm already getting a free bread roll from Jomsy, so I'd feel awkward accepting anything else," I hedge.
"Free food from that miser? He must like you," Maybell exclaims.
"Really?" Offering a bread roll for a small errand means he likes me? Weird.
"Oh, yeah. He makes a living off of scalping passing merchants and clueless nobles. If he's giving you the local treatment he's either gone and lost his senses or something about you struck a chord with him," She asserts, "But don't take my word for it, Mister. You sure I can't get you anything?"
"Well, there might be something, actually," I begin, remembering the other quest, "You know anything about a girl called Iffmy?"
At the mention of the name, Maybell's eyebrows shoot up, "He-hey...You admiring the local flowers are ya? Looking to lay down roots of your own maybe?"
She snickers knowingly, "Well, she's got no betrothed if that's what you're worried about..."
I wince. Gods, no. Not what I'm interested in at all. Got to head this line of conversation off immediately before it gets any further.
"No..I'm asking because she doesn't seem all there in the head. No offence meant o' course. I damn near dropped the pot when she walked into me just a minute ago, and it was like she was sleepwalking. Didn't seem like she even realised where she was."
The lewd smile drops from Maybell's face, "Oh."
She doesn't look too eager to spill the beans, squirming a little. Eventually, after an internal struggle I'm not privy to, she sighs, "Alright. Just so you don't go bothering the poor thing. She don't need no reminders about what happened, she blames herself enough as is."
Maybell licks her lips and launches into a short tale from about a month ago...
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Iffmy is the only daughter of the village's Master Farrier (Not an actual indicator of Blacksmithing skill as much as it is a title Maybell explained). She went out to the stables one day with one of the farriers under her father's tutelage, a young man named Lester. He was to replace a shoe on a horse, and she was to help the Tenders muck out the stalls.
Like many of the young men in the village, he admired Iffmy's good looks. And this was apparently his downfall, as he became distracted by her beauty and agitated the horse he was shoeing.
The result was a hoof-shaped inward dent in his ribcage. One of the stablehands saw the whole thing, and the horse responsible was put down.
Not long after, Iffmy started to act more withdrawn, barely acknowledging the people and world around her.
Of course, nobody in the village blamed her for what happened, but it was obvious to them that she didn't feel the same way about the incident.
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When Maybell finishes, I remain silent. Trauma from the nearby death of a colleague, huh? I suppose that could explain it. But something still seems off. The look on the Cooper's face as he cradled the mutilated body of his wife, the empty stare before his knife had to be wrestled away from him? That fits the bill.
Iffmy doesn't feel the same way. Moreover, it seems like she's been getting steadily worse when she barely ever spoke to the guy. It might be that she's just sensitive, but again, I have my doubts.
It's been a month. Nobody grieves for a mere acquaintance this fervently.
The more I think about it, the less natural I find it. And I'll be damned if I can explain why.
"Now," Maybell interrupts my train of thought, "Off you go back to Jomsy. He's probably waiting for you, don't want to keep him waiting, now!"
It's obvious she's trying to get rid of me, but whether it's because the topic bothers her or I've overstayed my welcome I can't begin to imagine. Either way, I'm not going to get anything more out of her for the time being, so I should head back to The Knight's Solace, and see if anyone there can give me something more concrete to work with. Jomsy himself might be a good place to start, thanks to the quest reward and his position in the community.
Knowing the incident that kicked it all off is definitely a great start, but It doesn't really tell me much by itself. There's more to it than what Maybell's told me, I'm sure of it.
Thanking her for her hospitality, I leave the acrid smelling house and return to the Inn for round two of my investigation.
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It's not been more than 10 minutes since I left, so the common area is in much the same state as when I left it. Maybe with one or two people missing from before, but I wasn't paying that much attention so I can't be sure.
"Ho there!" Jomsy greets me boisterously as I approach, "Didja give her the pot like I asked."
I nod, "Yeah. Said it smelled nice. Not sure how she can smell much of anything living in that house of hers though. Feels like my nostrils are gonna pickle."
The Innkeep guffaws, "Aye, that's Maybell alright. Got a nose made of cast iron does that girl. Don't know how Renth can stomach it, but I suppose love doesn't have a sense of smell!"
He reaches below the counter and drops a loaf-sized roll of bread atop it. I'll admit it's a lot more than I was expecting, so maybe there was something to Maybell's suspicions after all. No way I'm eating all that in one sitting.
"Big roll," I comment lamely.
Jomsy shrugs, patting the loaf/roll, "Chef baked one extra, but they never came to pick it up like they were supposed to, so it's yours now I figure."
I nod appreciatively, "Thanks."
"Don't mention it, lad," He snorts, "Now, can I interest you in a bowl of fresh hot soup to go with it?"
Staring at his politely smiling face, I can't help but break out in laughter, "So it were a merchant's scheme to get me to buy more food the whole time?"
He grins fearlessly back, "Aye! I hafta make a living as well y'know! Can't be giving out charity on a whim!"
I shake my head in disbelief, laughing quietly, taking a seat at the bar, "Alright, fine. I'll take a bowl if you can help me with some information..."