[http://i.imgur.com/KFKcoXd.gif]
CHAPTER 12: GETTING ACQUAINTED
“……”
“……”
Hum…
“………”
“………”
This is awkward.
Back into my bedroom, I am sitting as gracefully as may be on the one unique chair in the room, while my…erm…“saviour” is sitting on the edge of the bed. Neither of us is looking in the other’s direction, nor speaking. This has been going on for a while already. Neither of us seems willing to break the silence ever since I was pulled back through the window.
Gosh…I’m so embarrassed.
My secret garden has been seen by a complete stranger.
Mother, I’m sorry. Your daughter has become a shameless woman.
I’ve been tainted.
I cannot get married anymore.
You finished?
…I think, yes.
Then do something. This is getting annoying.
Alright, alright…
I peek discreetly in direction of the bed. Yep. It’s an orc alright. Well-defined bulging muscles. Green skin. Ape-ish facies with its prominent lower jaw and large, fleshy lips. Small, sunken eyes. And an expression seeming frozen in a permanent glare. Though that last point might just be this one’s personality showing through.
And, on second thought, maybe he’s not a “full” orc.
No, definitely not. A purebred orc would be more…I’d say…Warhammer…ish? While this one looks kind of…Warcraft…y? Yes, let’s go with that.
Less of an under-bite, smaller tusks, and more human traits. Also standing straighter. A true orc’s face would be sixty percent mouth and would be so hunched that their heads would hang almost lower than their shoulders. Those creatures really look like mindless brutes. However, this guy could pass off as a very tall and muscular human if he hid his face…and the colour of his skin…
…His arms are also longer than normal for a human…
…And the proportions are not quite right…
Err…
Well, a full plate armour would do the trick.
Would be kind of a shame, though.
…
My brows scrunch up.
What am I thinking…?
I shake my head and slap my cheeks to clear my mind. That gesture and the sound that accompanies it finally get the semi-orc’s attention. He casts me a puzzled and hesitant glance. I know that look. It’s the one people get before asking me if I’m fine...mentally.
It does happen quite often.
Oh, shut up.
I cough lightly into my balled hand and pivot to fully face my “guest” while maintaining as much as possible of a dignity I totally do not possess. I half-open my mouth, still hesitating on what to say. Then in an instant of inspiration, I make a split decision.
Hehehe. This is going to be fun.
I adopt a soft—I hope womanly—tone and start speaking. “This…O goodness, this is embarrassing.” I pull a lock of hair behind my ear and look down shyly. I don’t have to force a blush. I am actually embarrassed.
And here I thought you knew no shame.
Shush you.
I smoothen an imaginary wrinkle in my dress and look back up. “Let us begin anew,” I say with forced enthusiasm as if psyching myself up. “I am Victoria Sangbleu, princess of the Erwynian Kingdom. Or at least, I was.” A little self-depreciative smile. “I know not whether this title of mine still holds any value. It has been so long…” Voice trailing off, sighing, and I look out of the window in longing.
I…am quite surprised by my own performance. That was totally improvised.
It’s actually quite baffling. But then, you’re a natural.
What’s that supposed to mean?
Not letting my surprise show, I return my attention to the still silent semi-orc. I extend a hand, palm up, inviting him to talk. “And wouldst thou be so kind as to tell me thy name, O my champion?”
“……”
My request is met with stunned silence.
Did I lay it too thick?
Thankfully, it doesn’t seem so, as my green-skinned “comrade in half-ness” eventually gets out of his daze.
“Athena. That’s my name. Err…and I’m a…err… You could say I’m a mercenary.”
He says “mercenary”, I hear “party member for hire”. That would explain why I never heard of this guy before. Always hopping from group to group with no achievement to his own name. It’s a bit sad, but, hey, to each their own. Not everyone can endure the unforgiving throes of worldwide fame.
Careful, you’re about to overdose on modesty.
I ignore my inner sarcasm and clap my hands happily. “Mercenary! Oh, this sounds most exciting!” I pause. “Pardon me if I offend thee, but methink Athena sounds very…erm…feminine?”
“It’s because I am.”
…eh?
I tilt my head and blink.
“What mayest you be?”
“A woman.”
I blink again.
“…Pardon me? I could not quite hear thee.”
“I am a woman.”
More blinking.
My lack of understanding probably shows on my face, because he…she(?)…thinks necessary to add, “Woman, as in…of the female gender?” The last word is said on a rising note, with a raised eyebrow, as if to ask if I need any more explanation on what “gender” means. I wouldn’t mind actually. At this point, my brain could use all the assistance it can get.
Also, I can’t seem to stop blinking.
“Thou art female?” Kind of strange how I still stick to this. The mind truly works in mysterious ways.
“I am.”
…
……
………
“SAY WHAAAAAAAAAAT?!?!” …is what I almost yell. Fortunately I swallow that blunder in time, and instead, I only release a stunned “…oh.”
“If there is any issue with that—”
“What?!” His—Her voice snaps me out of my shock. “Oh, Nay! Nay. Naynaynaynaynay!” I jump up from my chair and cross over to the bed.
Standing before her—which puts us at eye level even though she’s still sitting—I take her right hand in both of mine. Damn. Is this a hand or a shovel? Her hand is huge! I bet she could snap my neck with only one of those—Ah! No. Focus, Vicky. “This is great! Fantastic even! Thou cannot comprehend how glad this makes us!” I release her hand and twirl away from the bed, uncaring what movement my twirl imparts to my one piece dress.
I think I hear something like a sharp intake of breath, but I ignore it.
“Hehehe,” I giggle. “’Tis going to be so fun!”
Stopping in front of the wardrobe, I fling the door open and pull out a large wooden trunk laying at the bottom. “Huuumphhh!!”
The trunk falls on the carpet with a soft thud. I unclasp the latch, raise the lid, and then start making trips back and forth from the bookshelf, picking one by one all the tomes written by the previous cursed hosts, as well as Victoria’s diary. I can only carry one tome at a time because those are so damn heavy!
I am at my third trip—and already out of breath—when the heavy book I’m carrying is suddenly lifted from my arms. I stumble, taken off guard by the shift in balance, but a strong hand grasps my shoulder and rights me. I look up at the semi-orc, Athena—weird name for an orc—who is towering above me.
A semi-orc is dwarfing me, although I’m a half-vampire.
I’m sure there is a pun somewhere in there.
Athena is holding the book in one hand—show off—and turning it around and observing the cover.
“Ah.” I suddenly realise…this might be bad if she looks inside. “Ah, mayhap could thou give this…back.” Ow, darn it. Too late.
She’s opened it and is already reading. I see her forehead furrow in concentration as her striking golden eyes move left and right across the page. She raises an eyebrow, then looks down at me. I maintain a poker face. Has my cover been blown? So soon? Thank gods I don’t sweat.
“You…can read this?”
“…eh?” Not the question I expected, but alright. I can roll with that.
I raise on my toes to try and take a peek at the page over her thick strapping forearm. She’s kind enough to lower the book and tilt it towards me. Why does she have to be so freakily tall? Or why am I so short? And why do I kind of enjoy being the shortest one for once?
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Many thanks,” I say graciously, staying into character effortlessly.
When my eyes land on the page, for the first time do I actually pay attention to what my interface is saying. Due to my skill [Ancient Language Mastery]—which is amongst those not affected by the curse, thank gods—any ancient language I know is automatically translated into English for me. But the game still tells me what tongue I am reading.
Edenic Soul Runes
I resist very hard the urge to facepalm. Sometimes, I really want to punch myself for overlooking stuff.
“Ah, yea, forsooth, those are runes of yore.” I leave out the Eden and Soul parts. That would raise too many questions that I’m too lazy to answer right now.
Although, even that much is enough to cause Athena’s eyebrows to shoot up. “You can read ancient runes?”
I laugh. “Well, although I may not seem like it, I am a two thousand years old vampire.” I’m not exactly lying. This body really is that of a vampire princess who lived two millennia ago. And if those runes are what I think they are, then the knowledge really does come from Victoria too. “Half of one, in sooth.”
That declaration does not cause the surprise I was expecting.
The fangs, the red eyes and the white skin must have given something away.
Still, Athena closes the book, a little roughly, and turns to me. Meeting her gaze, I gulp unintentionally. Oooooh, she’s pissed off about something. Her glare is so intense, I feel my legs weaken…from fear, of course…
“Are you the Progenitor?”
Kiwi in an egg-box. How does she know about that?
More importantly, how do I answer? Athena looks ready to punch someone. Seeing as her fists are each almost as big as my head, and knowing that the title [Sheltered Lady] gives me the physical resistance of a toddler’s sandcastle, I reeeeeally don’t want to be on the receiving end of that punch.
Should I play dumb, or tell the truth…?
Well, I don’t like to make complicated choices, so let’s try a little bit of both.
“Ara…” I tilt my head and blink cutely, index finger set pensively on my lower lip. “Well, it is true that the original Progenitor of the Night Lords is amongst my family’s forefathers…and since I do not believe any other relative of mine awakened to their vampiric heritage, it would be reasonable to assume I alone inherited the title…”
She doesn’t punch me, which I guess means I didn’t answer wrongly. Though, her eyes narrow, and her glare gets colder. My legs almost give out…from fear…of course…
There is a definite note of anger in her voice when she asks her next question.
“Does the term ‘Soulbond Servant’ means anything to you?”
That’s another weird question. I mean, it does mean something to me…kind of. I can guess the meaning. There are only so many interpretations to the words “soulbond” and “servant”, especially used together. However, I can honestly say I never heard the term before. So I have no difficulty showing my most innocent and clueless expression.
“No. What is that?”
Not answering to my own query, Athena continues to glare down straight into my eyes for a good minute, during which I try to slow down my fast-beating heart. My poor cardiac pump is apparently trying to beat itself out of my ribcage.
From fear…
Of course.
She’s intimidating, okay? She’s scary, okay?!
I’d like to see how you react to a mass of muscle almost twice your size glaring down at you as if pondering on the best way to squash you into purée. It’s scary, you know?
You keep telling yourself that.
What?
Oh, nothing. Nothing.
Eventually, the semi-orc clicks her tongue in annoyance, then sighs and makes a visible effort to calm down. Her shoulders slump a bit. She mumbles disgruntledly between her gritted…tusks, something that sounds like: “Dammit. Fuck. Now I’ll need to go to a Class Changer. Fuck. It’s going to cost a shitload. Fucking god of chaos. Gaining a fucking class is supposed to be fucking optional. This is fucking incredible. Hell…”
My slightly-pointed ears perk up at the mention of a certain divine annoyance—and also at the sheer overuse of the F-word, but mostly because of her mentioning Bob.
“The God of Chaos?” I blurt out without thinking.
….Aaaaaaand her glare is back full-throttle. Seriously, this girl has anger management issues. Stop that, it’s bad for my heart.
Well, look at the bright side, at least you’re not wearing any panties.
…What does it have to do with anything?
Oh, nothing. Nothing.
“You know something about the god of chaos?” Her voice is a low growl. Eh, he sure did something to annoy her. I’m actually a little relieved that I’m not the only one whom that Heavenly Stalker is messing with.
“Err…Not much?” Better deflect this. “Why did thee mention that being? Oh, and while we talk, could thou mayhap give me assistance in packing?”
Athena sighs with irritation and gnashes her teeth. With an angry gesture, she drops the book into the trunk. “I…” She turns towards me, about to say something, when she suddenly pauses, frowns, turns back, crouches by the trunk, and shifts the tome she just dropped to be aligned with the others.
…
I stare at her broad back with a raised eyebrow.
Sooooo, she’s a neat freak…with anger management issues? What a confusing combination. Does she wreck bedroom in anger when things don’t go her way, then go about fixing everything herself?
She’s also a semi-orc…
She’s interesting!
“I received a quest from the God of Chaos to rescue you from this tower. He teleported me in the woods a distance away. I was promised something as a reward…but it…eh, let’s just say things didn’t go quite as I expected. Don’t mind it. It’s not your fault.” As she talks, Athena is quickly transferring the content of the shelf into the trunk. She’s surprisingly efficient on this task despite her coarse warrior-like appearance.
As expected of the Angry Neat Freak!
Observing her from atop the bed where I’m currently sitting, I nod wisely. “Chaos is infamous so. What the Great Entropy promises, he giveth, but rarely is the gift to his oath-partner’s liking. Chaos is a divine that cannot be trusted.”
*ting*
Chaos the Amazing: Hey! I resent that!
Shut up, you divine ball of spoiled LSD.
At least this explains why she can be a woman, and also why she is off-schedule. All the previous contestants to challenge “my” dungeon were male and coming at fixed intervals. Somehow that annoying god threw in an unexpected challenger into the fray. Not that I complain, but what is that piece of randomium planning? Assuming, of course, the God of Chaos can even plan ahead.
However, I can’t shake the feeling there is something going on.
Probably…it’s that, right? It has to be.
Mentally, I call up the window for my imposed quest pompously called [The Plot]. Looking at the [Objectives] section, I read the message obviously left by Chaos himself.
Stop the bad guys before they destroy the world, by any means necessary—and I do mean any. (I tried to keep it simple for you. No, no, don’t thank me.)
Yeah. Definitely fishy. The Big Loony Guy can try to pass it off as a joke all he wants, I’m sure the “destroy the world” part isn’t just for spit and giggles. This whole ancient-power-finding race is something that even makes the gods feel some urgency, uh?
Well…that’s none of my business.
I’ve got better, more important things to focus on. Like this one semi-orc busy packing my stuff with diligence while paradoxically letting out a torrent of curses that would make a dwarf blush. This world can blow up right now for all I care. I’ll save it another day.
With that thought, I banish the window, and then return to what I’m sure is going to become my new favourite past-time for the next few days: observing Athena in action.
When the tall woman finishes putting the last book inside the trunk, I walk back to the wardrobe and start pulling dresses off the rack and filling what little space is left. I would be a shame to leave behind such an amount of enchanted cloth. “I really should have done this sooner,” I mumble. But I always leave preparations to the last minute.
Behind me, I hear the semi-orc moving about the room. “Thou may take for thyself whatever aught strikes thine fancy,” I throw over my shoulder. “I shan’t come back to this damnable place in any case.”
I add a few more dresses to the box, then—with some effort—close it. Contemplating the large wooden box, I ponder on how to transport in. Normally, this would be just small enough to fit inside an inventory slot, but I’d rather not use it in front of my new companion. I’d like to maintain this joke a little longer. It’s too entertaining.
I suppose I’ll just have to convince her to take it.
I turn around…and am greeted by the sight of a tall semi-orc attempting in vain to pull one of the rubies off the magical crystal chandelier.
She went straight for the gemstones, uh?
Greedy, aren’t we, my little tall orc?
I’m liking this girl more and more!
Me too.
Me three!
That’s not how this works.
“I am afraid those won’t come off.”
“…I’ve noticed.” With only those mumbled words, she releases the ceiling light, which sways silently.
“……”
“……”
We really have a lot of those awkward standoffs, don’t we?
This time, it’s her who breaks the silence first. She awkwardly scratches the back of her head, where her bright red hair is tied into a dense braid. “Err…I wanted to…apologize, for earlier. I should have tried to grab your arm instead.”
Oh, right. That happened. Oh well…
I shrug. “I do not really care all that much.”
“But I saw—” she tries to insist.
“Nay, let us not suffer such details.”
“Details?!”
“’Tis all in the past now, Thena.”
“Thena…?”
“’Tis thine new moniker. ‘Tis cute, so it suits thee.”
“C-C-Cute?!”
Ara? Is this big, bad, muscle goddess weak to compliments? Hehehehe. I’m going to have fun teasing her. But later. Right now, I can’t wait to get out of this tower.
“Forsooth. And thou shall call me Vicky, as my friends do.” …not.
“…Okay?”
Ah, yes, that face. That’s the face my friends often do. That means we are on the right track to becoming great friends!
You mean how she looks lost and confused about what the hell to do with you?
Yep. That face!
You are unbelievable.
W-W-Well, at least, she doesn’t look angry anymore. That’s something.
…I guess.
“So…Thena…could I shamelessly request some assistance hither?” I pat the heavy trunk to further explain what exactly I need assistance with.
“…Sure.” She steps up to me, bends down and puts a hand on the trunk, which disappears—into her inventory, of course.
But I need to keep up my play. “Ooooh. Is this some Space Magic?”
“What? No, it’s…ahhh…You could say that. It helps me transport things.”
“I see, I see…The outside world is fascinating, isn’t it?”
So, another piece of information on sweet Thena: she isn’t used to places without a high player density.
In Untold Tales, NPCs are not naturally oblivious to players’ peculiarity—like inventories, logging in and out, or functional immortality via respawn. The only thing that never seems to register in their virtual mind is the fact their reality is just a game to us. So, if an NPC is surprised about seeing you use your inventory, you can be sure players rare in that region. Or that the NPC has the mental age of a five-year-old.
As a solo player who specialises in “exploration”, I encountered many of such player-less areas.
Thena made no comment about my rhetorical question and simply swept through the room, picking up everything she can which has any value, including the damned enchanted blood cup. On that note, I want to breach the topic of “feeding” with her—I can’t wait to taste real blood!—but I’m not sure how she’ll react. She has already proven to be quite moody, limit unstable, so I’d rather avoid angering her.
I’m also curious about this “Soulbond Servant” thing she mentioned. I’m sure this is linked to why the curse only broke halfway. I actually have a hypothesis on that. Victoria’s curse only targets men and jumps from one host to another by means of a kiss. When Thena kissed me, it must have bugged, transferring only part of the soul…or something. Seems like kind of a big loophole. But then, that silly princess cast it unconsciously in the first place, so it’s bound to be imperfect.
However, again, asking Thena seems to be the shortest way to a punch. So I’ll abstain, for now.
The current objective is getting out of here.
Let’s stay focused on that.
…Let’s try to stay focused on that.
“Do you know how to get out of this place?”
The question snaps me back out of my musings. Thena has stopped ransacking…packing and is standing in front of me. I have to crank my neck up to face her. This might get a bit annoying.
“I beg thy pardon? Out of the castle?”
“I’m supposed to escort you to a village named Kansas. Do you know where it is?”
“Well…I do know where the exit of the valley is located.”
“It’ll have to do, I suppose…” She looks around the room. “Anything else you want to bring with?”
I glance at the bedroom, now lacking a few ornaments. I quickly make a decision. Waltzing to the bed, I pick up one of the largest and fluffiest pillows, then walk back to Thena with the pillow clutched against my chest.
“This,” I say decisively.
“…...” Thena stares at me for several seconds with an unreadable expression, then raises her gaze to the ceiling while massaging the bridge of her nose. I think I hear her say something like “…dangerous…too dangerous…” but I don’t pay it any mind.
Seeing as she isn’t moving, and I want to leave fast, I step closer and pull at the hem of her shirt to get her attention. She looks down.
“Can we go now?” I ask with a pout. I’ve had enough of this tower. I want to go out, dammit!
But instead of answering, she immediately goes back to staring up, rubbing her nose, and mumbling nonsense.
“3.1415926535897932384626433832795028841971693993…”
What is wrong with her?!
Pfffft-HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!
What?!
Hahahaha—oooooh. Nick, you’re killing me. Wahahaha!!
What? What did I do?
Oh, gods! You’re such a natural. Hahahahaha!
Will someone explain this to me??
Hahahaha…hahaha…You’ll understand when you’re older.
Ha! Fine! Whatever. Have it your way. I don’t care!
Stomping my way to the stairs, I leave the tall weirdo behind. She can keep talking to the ceiling if she wants. I’ll find the exit by myself. Anyway, I’m not staying another second in this room!
I shove the veil aside and take my first step down.
And…I trip.
But before I can even swear silently, a strong grip catches me. Once righted on my feet, I look at the large green hand on my shoulder, then cork my neck, following with my eyes up the brawny arm to a fearsome frowning face and two intense golden eyes.
“Careful. Those stairs are in bad shape. It’s dangerous. I’ll go first so I can catch you if you fall, okay?”
It seems my neurones aren’t responding for some reason, so I can only manage a nod. Athena responds with a nod of her own, releases my shoulder, and walks past me and down the stairs.
I don’t follow immediately, staring at her back with my mind still struggling to form coherent thoughts.
“You comin’, Princess?”
The low husky voice of the semi-orc snaps me out of my daze.
“Ah! Yea…yea. Yea!” With a bright smile and a small giggle, I jump down the stairs after my new source of entertainment friend. “Hehehe…” This is going to be so much fuuuuuuun!!!
“Wha-Wha-Why are you hugging me?! Let go. I can’t walk that way!”
“Hihihihi. Nay. I’m not letting go. Never.”
“Bloody hell, you’re tiring!”
“Hehehehe.”
I never let go of my fun.
Never.
Never.
* * * * *