The rest of the dinner went swimmingly as far as Anastacia’s job was concerned. She listened to lady Helia’s ramblings for a while longer before escaping to her own seat while the representative went to find herself something to eat. There was only so much hateful and paranoid hissing she could listen to during a single meal, even if she partially agreed with it.
“You should refrain from making acquaintances among the guests.” Strawberry reminded the necromancer about her neutral position. “And can you please not encourage them to throw crustaceans at each other.”
Anastacia shrugged. “I just encouraged her to hear out what Teal has to say.”
“That is not why you are here. How can I make you understand this?” The guild official asked frustratedly.
“Look, it’s my job to make sure nothing happens here, and if one of the guests is absolutely certain that they’ll get assassinated by another for no reason, they might panic and do something that’d make it my problem.” Anastacia defended her actions, mostly with reasoning she had to come up with on the spot. “And even if it does affect the negotiations, all it’ll do is help Helia see Teal’s point of view. So it’s probably a step towards peace, which is what we want here, right?”
“It’s what Vassund wants, if Valor was to have a stance on the matter, we’d be better off with these nations going to war.” Strawberry admitted like it was somehow obvious and not that big of a deal. “War creates unrest and causes kingdoms funnel more of their personnel and funds towards their armies, making the problems within their borders more apparent and severe. Unprotected villages need someone to dispatch the highwaymen and wildlife that creep in once the opportunity arises.”
The adventurer pushed over the stack of papers Strawberry had neatly piled out of spite. “That just sounds like you brought me here to fuck all of this up…” She said and started to question whether the guild had any intention to actually help her become a better adventurer, not that getting an answer that she knew to be absolutely honest would be possible.
“You give us too much credit, there is no shortage of quests regardless of what happens here.” Said the guild official in a dismissive way that didn’t do much to dispel Anastacia’s suspicions.
Strawberry reordered his paperwork yet again and gave Anastacia some more tips on etiquette in the guests’ nations and how to appear more respectful to them, though she figured that the ship had sailed around the time she started handing out sausages. Apparently, the polite way speak to an Ouan was to declare one’s name and vocation when first speaking up, because they wouldn’t necessarily see the speaker well enough to recognize them based on voice alone. Lighting oneself was also considered polite, but some light sources were more effective than others.
People of Mon Quasai on the other hand loved to argue and haggle whenever possible, and accepting whatever they said without expressing doubt was easily regarded as a lack of passion or interest in the conversation.
Most of the other nations had rules that were far too hard to keep up with, such as always allowing the oldest person in the room speak first or the distance one was supposed to stand at when talking. Luckily they didn’t expect them to be followed by the other guests, and to a degree, probably expected an adventurer have some rough edges when it came to manners.
Suddenly Teal left the group he had talked with and headed upstairs. On the way there, he quickly said something to Lady Helia, who grasped her ‘cursed’ crab tightly before following the inquisitor soon after.
“Looks like I need to get going or I’ll miss it.” Anastacia sighed and headed for the staircase.
The situation in the great hall appeared to be under control, so it wouldn’t be much of an issue to quickly visit the library and then get back.
Just as the adventurer was about to step on the first stair, she could feel the floor underneath her feet change, almost like she was suddenly standing on water. Glancing at her feet, she could see a faint green glimmer of magic along the grains of the wooden floor, and surely, it appeared to be spreading from the high magister’s feet. Before she had the chance to pull one of her daggers, Anastacia began sliding backwards, all the way back to the mage bewitching the floor.
“Where are you sneaking off to?” Ilyu asked and stopped the adventurer’s slide with her hand, almost losing her own balance by doing so. Both the tankard in her hand and the slight red hue on her face suggested that she was already more than a bit tipsy despite it only having been a little over an hour since the dinner started. Whatever ‘Vassund’s finest’ was, it must have been potent.
Anastacia took her hand off her weapon and sighed. “Can you not cast magic inside, or while drunk? You got lucky I didn’t staple you to a wall with a spear.”
The high magister smiled and kneeled a bit to take a better look at Anastacia’s face. “I aplo… apologize, but I can hardly let such a faschinating specimen escape.” She said, clearly trying her best to not let the drunkenness affect her speech – and failing at it.
Ilyu’s sudden change from a proud and dignified high magister to a drunken nuisance caught Anastacia a bit off guard and she wasn’t sure if it should be considered a security threat. She pulled up a chair for the mage and pushed her into it to hopefully sober up a bit.
“Oh how I would love to put you in a small cage and study what you’re made of…” Mumbled the magister and almost fell from the chair, only managing to keep herself up by quickly conjuring up a small crystalline pillar she could lean on out of nowhere.
“Okay, yeah. You’re going to your room.” The adventurer decided before Ilyu would start casting even more magic. “Can you walk?”
“Pffft… Ofcourseican. I’m a maaage.” Ilyu said and flopped up from the chair. She would have hit the floor almost immediately if the adventurer hadn’t caught her.
Seeing Anastacia almost get flattened by his friend, the forgemaster put down his tankard and rushed to aid them. He effortlessly picked up the high magister like it was something he did all the time. “I must apologize, I should have warned you, miss adventurer. Despite loving it so, Ilyu can not hold her drinks in the slightest.” He sighed. “Shall we take her to her room?”
“Nooo…” The mage protested quietly.
“Ilyu, you’re being a bother again. Let us not repeat what happened at the summit of elders – it took years to rebuild the castle.” The forgemaster said and successfully silenced the protests.
“Hold up. What happened at the summit?” Anastacia worried.
Gesturing the adventurer to follow her, Magnon started heading towards the staircase and the guests’ rooms on the second floor. On the way he recounted the events he was referencing. “I held a meeting that was much like this one, but about much less delicate matters at my home castle quite some time ago, and Ilyu was one of the guests there. After a few drinks, she figured she’d just open a gateway to her room and retire for the night… Well the thing is, drunken magic isn’t the most precise of things, and I happen to live near a volcano. It was amusing at the time, but it did take years for the serfs to chisel away all the hardened magma.”
Even though they weren’t near any volcanoes, Anastacia made a mental note to hurry the high magister into her room before her drinking got out of hands.
Watching the giant hunk of man and metal carefully carry the mage made the adventurer wonder something about the two. “You two seem awfully close, doesn’t it bother you that she’s in with the nutjobs while you’re a baby stealing enabler?” She asked and showed the way to Ilyu’s room.
“Is that really what you took away from our statements? And not really. Her dedication to gathering of knowledge is unsurpassed, and something I greatly respect. So in many ways I expect nothing less than her and Astra as a whole standing their ground on the matter – even if it leaves them in undesirable company. I have no doubt that our way of handling the situation is the correct one, but that does not mean Astra’s is necessarily in the wrong. Truth is a complicated matter and oftentimes you end up at odds with someone who is just as right as you are, and that is why we are here, to find a compromise.” The forgemaster preached as they walked down the hallway. “I can not help but to think that a lot of this would have been avoided if the Queen of Mournvalley herself hadn’t fallen ill.”
“You know Coque- the Queen of Mournvalley? Is something wrong with her?” Anastacia asked. She was surprised to hear that there was something that could actually keep the last red inquisitor down.
Magnon nodded. “Yes. I was among the few fortunate ones that could meet her, and it played a large part in Vul accepting their aid. She was a bit odd, if I were to be honest, but being in her presence was humbling to say the least. Actually, now that I think about it, your little stunt earlier made me think that you remind me of her quite a bit. It was as if we were all stepping into your world, and all that transpired would only do so because you allowed it.” He pondered and waited for Anastacia to open the door for him. “This Teal whelp is a good boy, but awfully green and a far cry from his master. Though who knows how silvery his tongue turns out to be, or maybe he’ll start throwing his weight around and try to scare the opposition into submission?”
“What about this Farcie guy? What do you think about him?” Anastacia asked. The forgemaster felt like an honest source of information, so she had decided to get as much out of him as she could.
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“Farcie the younger is many things you do not want in a diplomat: easy to manipulate, downright cowardly and as slimy as a wet slug, but he can make his case. Suppose he’s an apt counterpart for yours truly, as I would not hesitate to raze Ou and Toumarill to the ground if Astra left their little cabal or Vassund joined ours. He will no doubt at least try to find an angle to simply choke their growth without resorting to a full-scale war, which is a noble goal, I suppose.” The forgemaster admitted, it but felt like he was really looking hard to find much good to say about his ally.
Finally in the high magister’s room, Magnon could place Ilyu in her bed and hail one of the servants to bring them some cold water. “Now that we’re sharing, what did you and that frigid grasshopper talk about? That was just about the longest conversation I’ve ever seen anyone have with her.” He inquired.
“You say that, but it was mostly just her calling things heresy and blasphemy. Besides, Teal is talking with her right now, so it’s not going to be the record for long.” The adventurer shrugged and looked around the room. It was about the same as hers, but ever so slightly smaller. The servants had already hauled up the high magister’s luggage and it had been neatly placed by the end of the bed, but other than that, they appeared identical.
The large window gave a view to the endless field of snow that had been a beautiful sight by day, but in the dark, it was not a comforting thing to be surrounded by. Every single stone or other flaw in the smooth snowbank seemed like it could be any of the dreadful creatures Anastacia had learned about on her travels as an adventurer, or some fresh horror she had yet to meet.
When the servant returned with the water, Magnon woke up the high magister and did his best to get her to drink. Since the forgemaster seemed to have the situation in control, Anastacia wished the two good night and was about to head out when Ilyu suddenly sprung up from her bed.
“Don’t trust the elf!” The high magister yelled and immediately fell back into the bed and lost consciousness. The forgemaster tried to shake her awake again a couple of times, but that didn’t seem to do anything, and the mage simply started snoring quietly.
“Okay?” Anastacia frowned and turned to the other diplomat. “Was this like a sudden bout of racism or…”
Magnon shook his head. “No… She’s not the type. She must have noticed something. I can try to get something out of her later, but you should keep an eye out as well.”
“Alright, I’ll see if Farcie is up to something, I guess.” The adventurer shrugged and headed for the great hall once more. On the way she scanned whatever was within her reach to see is she had missed out on something. Everything in the hall seemed to be in order, and the servants were now running around the lodge on whatever odd tasks they had. Farcie the Younger was speaking with Nikolai and Fang and didn’t seems to be up to anything. The vice commander and Strawberry were in their seats by the table, minding their own business and the problem children in the library seemed to be getting along without having to rely on crab throwing.
Since nothing too drastic seemed to be going on, Anastacia figured that she’d take a bit of a stroll through the second floor and pretend that she was doing some surveying before the rest of the guests would head to their rooms for the night.
Now that she didn’t need to hurry so much to keep up with Lumira, she could actually stop to appreciate some of the scenes that had been carved into the wooden walls of the corridor. Many of them depicted a group of three people hunting the various great beasts of the north, starting with a humongous deer-like creature that had three heads.
Anastacia waived at the servant that had brought water for Ilyu earlier and was now wiping dust off some of the furniture in the hallway. The maid left her equipment behind and hurried over, probably assuming something was wrong.
“What can I do for you, miss adventurer?” She asked hesitantly.
“Is there a story behind these? I was thinking they were nifty and might get my goblins to do something similar for my castle.” The necromancer said and pointed at the carvings.
Puzzled by why an adventurer, or anyone else for that matter would have goblins, it took a couple of seconds for the servant to realize that she had been asked something. “Err… Yes, miss adventurer, they tell the tale of the three great hunters of the north: Vasskir, Nekkir and Cottona. The three of them tamed the wilderness in these lands by hunting the ancient beasts of ruin – which ended up costing their lives but made the region habitable. I could walk you through the story, if you want? Cottona is a bit of a hero of mine…”
Seeing the servant’s eyes light up when she was speaking about the hunters made Anastacia want to hear the story as well, and she was able to feel what was happening in the library and the great hall just fine anyway, so there was no harm in humoring the girl’s enthusiasm. She nodded and ran her fingers along the grooves carved into the wall. The slightly charred surface had been coated with wax to further bring out the detail in the wood grain.
“Well, the three hunters consisted of two high born dark elf brothers called Vasskir and Nekkir, and their servant turned bodyguard turned companion, Cottona. Humans were, at the time, considered lesser people in their kingdom and being one, Cottona started out as a lowly servant, but time and time again proved to be a fierce and peerless fighter, and even trained the brothers despite being only barely older than them. When their kingdom was burned to ash by the great war that washed over all of north, the three decided to migrate further north in search of new land to settle. After a bit of wandering about, they ended up here, possibly in this very spot we’re in and were immediately awestruck by the untouched wilderness. This wouldn’t last too long however, as the ancient powers ruling over the land didn’t appreciate the hunters making room for their fields and huts. And so the four beasts of ruin challenged the trio over the right to rule these lands.” The servant girl happily prattled on, barely stopping to breathe in between sentences. “This here picture shows the first of the five: The Stag Lord of Decay. Needless to say, it was a long and strenuous fight, but ultimately the Stag Lord met its demise as an arrow from each of the hunters slit the veins in its three necks. One set of its antlers are actually kept here, in the lodge’s great hall.”
They moved over to the next carving, that depicted one of the night elf brothers with a knife in his hand and a massive wolf with a mane of thorns circling each other.
“The second beast surprised Vasskir as he was surveying the land on his own. The Barren Wolfmother met its match in the hunter after they had tirelessly stalked each other in the forest for a week. Vasskir used its fur to make a cape that shielded its wearer from the piercing cold winters of north better than any other.” The servant briefly explained, showing considerably less interest than before, likely because her favorite hunter didn’t have a part in the story.
Third of the carvings showed the other brother leaping at some kind of a sabretooth bear with an axe in his hand.
Again, the maid rolled her eyes and recited the story with an overwhelming amount of indifference in her voice. “This is a depiction of Nekkir taking down the Ancestral Bear. They fought and the hunter won. Think they made a helmet or something out of the bear’s skull.” She mumbled and almost pushed Anastacia to the fourth carving.
The next scene was of the third hunter, who had been surrounded by a gargantuan snake and brandished a spear in her had.
“Unlike the brothers, who got into a scrap with some pesky beasts, Cottona had to face the Blight Serpent. A hundred meters long and large enough to swallow an ogre whole, the serpent spread death and decay all around it. Its breath was enough to shrivel the plants and rot the trees from as far as the eye could see, and its fangs could piece a castle wall. This didn’t stop Cottona from bravely accepting the beast’s challenge however. Showing her complete mastery in combat, she took off her armor as it would have weighed her down, and tossed aside her bow, since the arrows had no chance of piercing the serpent’s scales. With her sliver hair flowing in the wind, she bravely charged into the fight and spend days dodging and parrying the attacks of the vile creature without it ever so much as scratching her supple and agile form. Eventually, after an incredible display of stamina, skill and strength, she had chipped away enough of the stone scales so that she could land a final killing blow directly to its heart. In honor of this great victory, the fangs of the serpent were taken and are now a part of the throne of Vassund.” The servant excitedly described the story in far greater detail than any of the fights before, to a point where Anastacia found it mildly creepy. “Wasn’t she great?”
“I mean, sure.” Anastacia nodded to be polite and kept to herself the fact that going to a place and then killing the biggest piece of wildlife they could find was exactly what adventurers did for a job.
The final carving depicted the three hunters together once more, this time they were standing before a hideous skeletal woman who appeared to be mostly put together from rotting pieces of animals and was armed with more claws, fangs and rusty weapons than a full squad of particularly well-armed beastfolk.
“With her four beasts of ruin defeated, the master of the forest appeared in front of the hunters. The hag of north, the spirit of discord and strife, made her presence known. The ensuing fight was far more strenuous and harrowing than anything a sane person could even imagine, as for every piece cut off from the hag, a new one grew in its place and further deformed the already disgusting monster. Only through seamless teamwork and a bit of luck, the trio were able to rip off the hag’s necklace, that gave her her immortality. As the iron beads hit the ground, the hag turned into dust and fog, leaving the hunters victorious. Yet this was not the end, for the noxious words and curses of the hag had sown the seeds of discord among the hunters, and within days, all three were found dead, killed by each other’s hands. Some say that the mocking laughter of the hag can still be heard in the fields, for she finds what she did particularly humorous – even in death.” The servant ended the story with tears in her eyes.
“Well that took a turn…” Anastacia said and awkwardly tapped the servant on the shoulder. “Uh… are you okay?”
The servant wiped her eyes and sniffled. “Yes, yes, it just still gets to me no matter how many times I go through it, you know? There was so much more she could have done.”
Awkwardly looking around for any reason to escape the situation, Anastacia made her exit. “Oh, I need to go and do a report on the whole drunk mage situation! Soooo… see you later.” She said and headed for the great hall at a brisk pace.
On the way, she ran into Nikolai who was heading to his study for the day with the aid of his vice commander. The host of the event briefly congratulated the adventurer on a peaceful first evening before they parted ways.
Strawberry was somehow still doing paperwork when Anastacia returned to her seat. Correctly assuming that the adventurer was going to push the stack of papers over yet again, he quickly picked them up before she got the chance and avoided having to pick them up again.
Everything else seemed to be in order, only Fang and Farcie were still in the hall, and didn’t seem to be in any hurry to interact with each other. The orc appeared to be praying as far as Anastacia could tell, and the elf was swirling the last drop of wine in his glass.
When Farcie noticed that Anastacia was staring at him, the adventurer mouthed the words ‘I’m on to you’, just in case the high magister had been correct, and even if she wasn’t, it was fun to bother the elf.
“How did it go?” Strawberry asked and pulled out a fresh sheet of paper.
“She just can’t handle alcohol. I’ll make sure she doesn’t cast anything too drastic if this repeats tomorrow. She also told me to not trust the elf, whatever that means. It’s not like I trust him anyway.” The adventurer shrugged and waited for the guild official to begin writing before pushing over his papers again.
Strawberry tiredly glanced at the necromancer and continued writing without saying a word.
“Anyway, keep an eye on him. Now that I’ve reported back, I’ll go check up on the problem children and then probably head to my room.” Anastacia smirked and flicked one more paper off the table.