The mind of humans can be strange. We supposedly value logic above everything else, yet most of the time, emotions overrule logic when both come to a head. For Winter, he was done saying his goodbye to Adria and Minalan. He was, however, still very angry. He had plenty of anger towards himself. He could have directed the anger at Royal Road, for giving him this sort of quest. It was not often his emotions were swayed. But when it happened, he was beyond all reasoning.
Ultimately, he put the whole blame on the cursed bracer. If there was any shred of reasoning behind it, only Winter could put a proper logic into it. Therefore, before he quit the game for good, he thought he should get rid of the bracer properly. Winter had no idea whether this sort of quest would have any repetition. He was not letting anyone experience the sort of grief he was. He would not even think if the next idiot actually took Adria’s proposal.
Though the quest of a cursed item was not unique, Winter would never find out that his contact with Adria and Minalan was supposed to end when he obtained the quest to manage the bracer’s curse. It was his own decision that pushed everything to his current path, whether for good or bad, only Freya would ever know the future.
Winter was ready to leave town, but he had one last thing to completely sever his connection to this town.
This was the third time he visited the church. Surprisingly, the Church of Freya in Cosare was located in the Merchant Quarters. He never checked it for Harine, so he had no idea whether it was only limited to Cosare, or the same everywhere else. If it was real life, he would guess that the secret as to why the bishop of Cosare was so fat was related to the location of the Church.
“Greetings, supplicant, how may I help you?”
An acolyte stood outside the ground of the church. He looked like the pious type, with the white shift and cheerful smile.
“I wish to make a donation.”
Was it just Winter or did the acolyte’s eyes sparked for a second?
“Please, come in. The Bishop will bless you for your piety.”
’Bollocks if I believe that! After Adria, no way will/do I believe in Freya nonsense’
Still, Winter followed the acolyte to the inner part, where the bishop still remained as fat as he remembered. The corpulent man was munching on a drumstick. Somehow, he kept his priestly garb clean despite all the eating. Must be a handy skill to have.
“Do you wish to make a donation, adventurer?”
“Yes. I do.”
“Please make your donation, and I will bless you. The grace of Freya will then follow you in your adventures.”
Winter nodded. He manifested what he wished to donate.
Alveron was an NPC. He was created to be rather special. For one, he was a prodigy, and blessed with the cute look of a pious, sweet child that breathed and lived for Freya. Unknown to him (and to the annoyance of the Sisters), the nuns adored the sight of him, to the point of sinning. He was set to become one of the three candidates for Pope position. He was as pious, sincere and kind as could be, yet brilliant in his strength and intellect. Currently, he was delegated the customary duty of visiting churches of Freya around the central area. He had been doing this journey since he was ten without complaint, for he realised that it was part of his duty in the future.
Thus, Alveron set out from Rosenheim, where he was based, and visited the churches around the central cities. Other candidates were finished with their tour within half a year, but Alveron did not skimp on the smaller towns, thus taking much longer to finish. He predicted he would finish somewhere next year. This devotion of his would later make his election as the Pope a foregone conclusion. And now, Alveron was touring Cosare for two days. This was to be the last day.
“Get out of here! You blasphemer!”
’What on Freya is that? That sounded like Bishop Wallace.’
An adventurer flew out of the door soon after. Despite his looks, Wallace here was pretty strong in his holy magic. He smote Winter out the door.
’Uh.. Never expected that. For a fat man, he sure packs quite a mean punch.’
Winter was not badly injured. In fact, he received no injury. The smiting he received blew him straight through the front door. He received 20% fall damage, but that was about it. Considering what he tried to do, it might be on the milder side of things. Yet...
’Here I thought a church never rejects a donation.’
Standing up, Winter dusted himself off. He was feeling suicidal and felt he could go for a couple more rounds. The fat bishop, Wallace, was it? Somehow took the time to leave the table he ate from to make sure Winter did not reenter. His whole bulk nearly covered the whole entrance.
“Never return here!”
Relationship with Bishop Wallace is Negative
You are banned from entering Cosare’s Chapter of Freya Church
Permanent negative relationship with all Priest-type NPC in Cosare
He was about to say more, putting harsher penalty for Winter’s sacrilegious act, probably, when he noticed they were not alone anymore. Surprisingly nobody else stopped to gawk at Winter.
“Oh. Candidate Alveron. I expected you to return later.”
Wallace was suddenly very respectful, even looked a little guilty.
“I finished my tour faster than I thought, Bishop Wallace. May I inquire what happened here?”
“It is a trivial matter, Candidate Alveron, please pay it no mind.”
Alveron thought otherwise. He felt called to finish up early in his tour. Though he felt bad, the call was stronger than what little guilt he had. He believed it was related to this adventurer. Alveron felt he was carrying something... an object full of sadness.
“Please, Bishop Wallace, I do not mind. Freya helps everyone in need. How may I help you, Sir adventurer? Is it related to the object you carry with you?”
’How does this sweet-cheeked kid know something like that?’ Thought Winter.
He instantly gathered, that for some odd reason, this child, who was not much older than Adria (12), had more authority than the fat Bishop. He was ready to give up after the bishop smote him, but he thought there was no harm in another try, right?
“I wish to make a donation. Bishop Wallace here, respectfully declined me.
Winter made the word bite. The fat bishop scowled, but did not say a word.
“I see. If you wish, I can receive it in the stead of Bishop Wallace.”
“No! Candidate Alveron! This heretic here tried to donate a cursed object! A very bad one too!”
Yes. Winter, who wished to part with Asric’s bracer, thought the church should just hold on to it. He tried junking it, but it would not disappear. Apparently, he also could not trade or drop it on the ground. It would respawn in his inventory. He never tested for those things before. Now the bracer really acted like a proper cursed item. When he wanted it to be gone the most, it latched onto him. Well, it had latched onto him the first time, even when he did not want it anyway.
“Please... show me the object, Sir adventurer.”
Alveron was not alone. A middle-aged, tough-looking Paladin of Freya, complete with a mace, shield, and the rest of the regalia, all in white and green, stood behind Alveron like a large looming tower. Alveron himself was oblivious to the pressure Winter felt.
’If they send this fresh-faced kid when the church wants a donation, I will definitely donate.. no question about it.’
Winter thought Alveron had the most sincere-looking gaze he had ever seen. He had never met the real Pope yet in real life, but he imagined it would be someone like this child, but aged at least five times. Winter obliged Alveron.
Murmuring his thanks, Alveron cupped the bracer in his hand. A black swirl began appearing on its surface.
’Huh. It has never done that before.’
The swirl was getting stronger and stronger. Alveron looked as relaxed as he could be, despite the Paladin and Wallace there looking very uncomfortable. The swirling became a small vortex, that whipped Alveron’s green and white cloak and his short dark brown hair. The effect somehow got stronger when he closed his eyes. Winter had seen this sort of thing before. When a Priest begins chanting spells, their body is enveloped in white aura. Alveron’s was impressively bright. Winter stood there with his dumb expression, mouth open. After a while, the white aura disappeared. Alveron opened his eyes. The swirling was no more.
’Did this kid just.... cleanse it? It cannot be that easy, right?’
Alveron tottered a little.
“Alveron!”
That was the first time the Paladin made a sound. He braced the healthy, but still too young boy from falling. He looked a little paler than Winter remembered. The change was not obvious, as the flaring white aura masked it completely.
“I am okay, Belman. The curse was stronger than I thought. Much stronger.”
Straightening himself, Alveron beckoned Winter closer. Winter,who was pulled by Alveron’s pace, stepped forward.
“I am sorry, Sir adventurer, I cannot accept this donation. I now understand why Bishop Wallace rejected the donation too.”
Winter gave Alveron a questioning look that begged to be answered.
“What do you know about our church, Sir adventurer?”
“Aside from providing blessings, quests and receiving donations, nothing.”
Alveron nodded at Winter’s answer. Winter saw an understanding face instead of the disappointed frown he expected.
“Every donated item we receives must be cleansed of its sin. We cleanse it by taking the sin into our own body, Sir adventurer.”
Winter got the idea pretty quick. What Alveron said next confirmed it. He now felt a twinge of guilt for donating the bracer, just a tiny twinge. He wanted it to be rid from him badly.
“We normally never refuse a donation. But when we fail to cleanse a donated object, we have to decline the donation, such as in this case.”
“I get it. My apology, Bishop Wallace. I had no idea.”
Somehow, he had a better impression of the fat bishop now. Though the fat bishop still scowled, he nodded his forgiveness. Winter was still banned, though.
“I read somewhere that if all of Church Freya works together, it is possible to cleanse that bracer’s curse.”
“Then this must be the fabled Bracer of Asric. It indeed lives up to its tale.”
Belman the Paladin, and Wallace, looked at Winter with questioning looks on their faces now. He wondered what the questioning looks were for.
“Unfortunately, that tale is not true, Sir adventurer. The act of Cleansing is a singular act, a communion between one to our Goddess, a test of strength of our faith in Freya. As much as I wish to help your cause, I doubt even the Pope can cleanse this curse.”
Winter would be shocked in the future when he found out that Alveron’s strength was greater than that of the Pope by order of magnitude, and he had still failed. He was silent, taking in the implication.
“I can keep this object for safekeeping, if you wish.”
“Alveron! No!”
“Candidate Alveron! Please do not do that!”
Winter was a little puzzled, looking at the two adults fussing over the young Pope candidate, unknown to him, of course.
“I would like that, thank you very much.”
“NO! You have no idea what you are asking him to do, adventurer, take your word back!”
The Paladin was really angry at Winter. Angry enough for him to draw his hammer out from his belt. Winter suddenly wasn’t sure his choice was the right one, when a large hammer might grind against his head soon.
“Belman, please....”
“But!”
“This is all the will of Freya, Belman, you should not be fighting against this. I can feel that this is the right path for me.”
Perplexed, Winter had to ask why. He probably should not, for he immediately knew he had made the wrong choice.
“What is the problem with having the bracer in the safekeeping?”
Bishop Wallace, who had moved from the entrance, provided the answer as concisely as he could.
“Because it is still cursed, fool. It will slowly eat whoever is keeping it.”
’Seriously? There is such thing here? This sounds like one of those old ghost movies I saw when I was a kid.’
“Bishop Belman....”
“No, Alveron. I will not be silent over this. Reprimand me if you will! But I will not let you do this.”
This was the first time Wallace spoke out without honorifics. It would be hard to imagine that this fat bishop was the one that found Alveron abandoned as a baby and raised him, but that was the truth, at least for the curious players that had an interest in Versailles’s history. Winter noticed the honorific that was missing, though he had no idea what was going on.
“I recant my word, Candidate Alveron. May I receive the object back?”
“Of course, Sir adventurer. Here.”
Both Belman and Wallace breathed a sigh of relief, as the bracer plunked back onto his hand. Seemed like Winter had to find another way to dispose of it. He thought that quitting with the item remaining in his inventory would be the best way to do it. He should have thought of it earlier.
“I thank you for your time, everyone. Have a good day. My apology for wasting your time, Candidate Alveron, Bishop Wallace.”
Giving all three a gracious bow, Winter was turning to leave, when Alveron spoke out,
“Sir adventurer... do you know of the object’s history?”
Looking over his shoulder, Winter replied,
“I do.”
What Alveron spoke next, Winter did not know.
“The strongest curse is not borne out of malice, Sir adventurer. It is borne out of sadness, a sadness so deep that it feels like the world never existed beyond the blackness of it.”
“I believe you are the person that is destined to release the sadness that kept the curse together all this years.”
“What! No! I just want to get rid of it. Period.”
Winter had fully turned his body back. He was ready to argue himself out of this. Was it not enough that this bracer reminded him so much of Adria and how much hurt he had caused her?
“Then I shall be the caretaker of it for now. One night and a day. If you change your mind, I shall return it to you. If you still wish to be parted from it, I will spend the rest of my life trying to cleanse it.”
“That’s.....”
Quest Updated
Cursed Bracer of Asric
Upon meeting Pope Candidate Alveron, you are now given the choice between leaving it with Alveron forever, or coming back to him, the latest a day from the acceptance of the quest. If you choose to cleanse it, Minalan recommends you to visit Arcanum. Alveron’s future hinges upon your answer. The bracer will be parted from you forever.
Difficulty level: C
Reward: Unknown
This shall affect the balance of power around Versailles as Alveron will be very important in the future
Winter hated to be cornered the most. And he was truly cornered this time. It was a corner so narrow he had no hope of escaping. This child had effectively guilt trip-ed him, and obligated him at the same time. He wondered if this was part of the quest progression. After hurting Adria, he could not bear to hurt another child. And Alveron, despite treatment from the two powerful adults, was still one in Winter’s eyes.
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
”Fine. I will do it myself.”
Winter had no other answer. The two adults were so shocked by the development that they did not even object to Alveron’s initiative.
Quest Accepted
He was frustrated, but could see no other way out of it. At least not anything that would end without anyone getting hurt. He now wished he had stepped out of town and logged out permanently, never attempting to donate the cursed item to the church. Yet, Ronald had never been one to beat himself up after he made a decision, no matter the consequences. He would beat himself up eventually in quiet times, but for now, he had to think about what to do.
“I thank you, Sir adventurer. I believe you have made the right decision. May Freya’s blessing be upon you.”
A glow from Alveron’s hand entered Winter’s avatar. It seemed to do nothing he could see. No system message appeared. Bowing to him, Alveron entered the church gate with Bishop Wallace slamming it closed, loudly, for Winter’s benefit.
’In the end, the option comes down to cleansing it myself. Figures.’
Muttering the unfairness of the world, Winter left for Cosare’s gate. He almost forgot to say goodbye to one more person. Since he was in the area, he thought he might as well do it.
xXx
While walking to Sella’s business place, Winter thought of any reason to stay. He could have quit right then forever. He had an attachment to this game as little as to his broken television set, at that moment. Yet somehow, he felt compelled to continue. His list of excuses to stay was pretty thin.
’What am I going to do if I do not play Royal Road? Sew something like an old lady? Go to a chess park and play with strangers? I hate playing chess. Social club? It makes me feel old, and I am young enough to still like fine ladies...’
His excuses to quit were pretty compelling, on the other hand. The hurt he caused Adria. He had no idea whether it just happened, or was part of a quest. If so, that made this game very cruel in its progress. After spending time with the small number of NPCs, he was most intimate with Minalan and Adria,and close enough with Sella. He did not forget Baran, too, the training instructor. He could not see them as simple NPCs anymore. Everything in this world, except from knowing the fact that it was a game, felt real.
In his youth, Winter had read a lot of fantasy literature. Some touched upon the subject of players playing games in the virtual world. There were also Japanese comics he read regarding a player who was trapped inside a game world. He wondered if they ever experienced this sort of thing.
In the end, though it was clutching at straws, it was Alveron’s word that made him stay.
The curse was borne out of sadness.
It felt like a pinhole path to self-redemption. It was not a logical leap, no matter how you would want to connect it. Dispersing the cursed bracer given by Adria, in order to make himself feel good about himself. It was sophistry, hypocrisy. Yet he felt it was the right thing to do, and so he would do it.
Even the bright side of his took a flimsy stance on what was the good point about the whole situation.
’At least when I step out of the game, the problem does not exist in real life.’
’Her again?’
Turning the corner, Winter spotted Zaya standing with Sella outside the restaurant. They shook hand and continued talking. Suddenly, a troop of waiters burst out from the kitchen door carrying crates.
“I am sorry, Zaya, I believe your offer is no good. Maybe you can come back later when you have a better offer.”
Zaya was unhappy with their current conclusion of the deal, but knew when she should back off. She had already made a decent amount of gold, but like all merchants, she wanted more. She had set her sights on the Golden Apple Wine. The whole case of it, with a 15% discount rake. Her failure to convince Sella was due to her capital not coming close to paying the amount in full. She was short by half.
Zaya nodded her understanding, thanking Sella, when Sella suddenly perked up,
“Oh. Winter. It is rare to see you so early.”
Zaya turned around and saw Winter walking closer.
“Hi, Sella. Good to see you too.”
Both of them hugged. Despite being taller with long arms, Winter’s encircling hug failed to touch his other hand. Both parted after a couple seconds.
“Sorry about that. I would love to dine again, but I cannot.”
“What is happening, Winter?”
Winter had no idea whether NPCs could pick up emotional things, but it seemed they could.
“I am leaving town, Sella. It is time to move on to another adventure.”
Winter said it with as straight a face as he could, but he was not sure how much he was fooling anyone. Zaya gave him a sideways look that spoke volumes about how his face looked.
“Pity. Please do share more ingredients whenever you are around.”
“I will, Sella, I will.”
Winter had no plan to fulfill it.
“Now. I will grab for you a couple things to eat on the way. Please wait for a moment.”
Not waiting for any answer, Sella walked back to the kitchen side.
“By the way, Zaya, if you are interested in the wine, contact me again when you pass by. I am sure we can work something out,” said Sella, with only her head poking out from the door. It disappeared soon after.
“A wine?”
Winter asked in question.
“Yeah. The one you drank.”
“Oh.”
He nodded in understanding.
“She isn’t selling?”
Zaya looked a little uncomfortable when Winter asked. She did not get the chance to reply as Sella came back with a packed lunch. Zaya looked a little disappointed when she saw how small the item was. Winter took it gratefully.
You received Sella’s Lunch Box
Open to enjoy delicacies specially prepared by Sella the Inn cook
Sella’s Lunch Box (Durability: 1/1)
Specially prepared by Sella for Winter. Though it is filled with quickly prepared food, it is also done to her best of her abilities. It is unknown what is inside the box, yet if one holds the box to the nose, salivating smells come from it.
Can be stored indefinitely as long as the package is not opened
Winter thanked Sella for her generosity and hugged her again. Zaya was about to turn and walk away, when Winter’s hand shot out and grabbed it. Something just occurred to him that he had not thought for a while. Doing a good deed.
“Say, Sella. Think you can sell me some of those wines you have?”
“Which one, Winter?”
“I think it is called Golden Apple Wine.”
“Oh, that. You can have it for free if you want.”
‘What are you doing. Let go of my hand.’
Zaya did a quick targeted whisper, as she did not want to make a scene. Sella herself was oblivious to Zaya, who was trying to pull away from Winter, who ignored the personal message.
“Now, now. Sella. I know I am eating for a lifetime in your place, but I think the wine is a little expensive to be given away for free.”
“Nonsense. Anything for you, Winter.”
“Sella, please. I will feel guilty if I receive such an expensive gift for free.”
Winter was not exactly pleading. He had a good idea how this would turn out. Sella propped her hands together, her large wobbly chin cocked sideways in thought.
“How about this. Half price. No. I will not accept anything higher,” was what she said when Winter was about to object.
Zaya’s eyes bulged out. She had never heard of a discount lower than 25% for a product. This was a slightly better reaction than the outright disbelief she showed when Sella was about to give it away for free.
“That is generous of you, Sella. How many do you have in stock, by the way.”
“64 bottles.”
Zaya’s mouth dropped open again. A case of the fabled wine was rarely seen around anywhere, yet such a small town had four cases of it in stock. She suddenly felt resentment.
’Does he want to gloat as revenge for last time?’
Something small inside Zaya thought she deserved it. Her mercantile sense was unhappy. 50% discount from standard price would net over 30000G when sold in full. For a serious connoisseur, it could fetch premium up to twice its normal price of 1000G a bottle. She felt even more resentment when she thought Winter could do it as he recently obtained some money in the form of the bet he had made with Campbell. Was there that much money in the bet?
Winter grimaced something sour.
“Ah... Sella, that is more than I thought. I think I should consult my friend here a moment. Think you can give us a little privacy?”
“Sure. I will leave you to it.”
Winter quickly spun Zaya around with his other hand around her shoulder.
“What are you doing? I get it. You win. You have your revenge. Happy?”
Zaya expected a sneer or smug smile. She received a wan one instead.
“How much gold do you have on hand right now?”
“Why is it any of your business?”
“Just tell me.”
After hesitating for a second, Zaya saw no harm in telling Winter. So she answered. She did not need to check her inventory. A good merchant always remembers how much money they have.
“35,213 gold.”
Winter nodded and spun them back around.
“Thank you for waiting, Sella.”
Sella was all smiles, nodding patiently.
“Now, I wish to purchase the wine, but I still have one last goodbye to say. So, I will leave my companion here, to take care of the details.”
Zaya had no idea what was going on. She was still thinking what the mature mage was trying to pull. Quickly, he was done with his goodbye and moved on. Sella was a little wistful with her goodbye wave, which Winter reciprocated, before he turned the corner.
Zaya was still in a daze. She had leveled six times, with obscene reputation bonus and future profit expected. It would be the largest one she had ever made. She had no clear idea on what went on, but the business deal concluded very quickly. Sella sold to Zaya the whole four cases of the wine, which she paid for happily. At 50% discount.
It annoyed Zaya a little that Sella thought Winter was Zaya’s boss or something. She was all smiles and nodding when the transfer was made, anyway.
Zaya spent until morning, walking around trying to find the meddling mage. She could not leave until morning anyway, as nighttime was not the best travel time for a merchant wagon. She browsed around for riskier investments, since she could afford to splurge now. The deal she made with Sella guaranteed her profit to double, at least. She found a neat array of decent magical items, surprisingly in the magic district, though no mage guild was around in the whole town. She totally adored the black-haired, green-eyed, hardworking little girl, who was the store’s attendant. She also thought the store could use a better decoration, though it was why she visited the place. She could see the weird hand from the edge of the district.
Talking about magic, it reminded Zaya again of the mage. Winter. She spoke to herself. The mature-looking player was a puzzle. She thought the man was a petty bastard, until money and goods were exchanged with Sella. Her effort in looking for him was for naught, anyway. The chance to find a random person in a small town was pretty good, but still nearly impossible.
Come morning, Zaya rolled her wagon out the city, though she took no protector this time. As long as she traveled during daytime and stuck to the road, she would have no monsters troubling her. The road to Central was pretty safe. Normally, she would not chance it, but after her recent experience, Zaya wanted nothing to do with mercenaries for a while.
What Zaya had, though, was problem of being indebted to someone else, yet this time she could not repay the person back, since the aforementioned person was not around to receive it. Best she could do was to help out someone else, though it was against her policy. Until she felt her debt to the stranger repaid.
When Zaya exited the city, Winter had already left the city for twelve hours. He said his goodbye to Baran, though he dallied around the gate, reluctant to leave it permanently. He finally decided to be firm with himself, and stepped forward without looking back.
Wolves and bears were not a problem for him, though it took him longer than if using his sword to take them down. His tactic was to hit the monsters with as much magic as possible, and make as much distance as possible with <
What he could gather from Baran, was that Arcanum was located very close to the center of the continent. Arcanum. The city of magic. Baran knew nothing else about the place, except that it was in Central. Sword and muscles were his department, not sticks and magic.
Vaguely, Winter heard a rolling wagon behind him. He had encountered a few passing behind him and the opposite direction since the dawn broke. Instead of passing him quickly, the wagon slowed down parallel to him. Winter kept his head down, but the wagon was not moving on.
“Need a ride?”
Winter looked up upon hearing the familiar voice, his footsteps stopping. The rolling wagon halted seconds after. It was Zaya. Twisting her body, she waved at Winter to get on. Winter did not think much about it. Shrugging, he climbed onto the seat beside the female merchant. She wore a red cloak this time.
“Fancy seeing you here. Heading to the North?”
Winter nodded in reply.
“By the way, how do you want to be paid back? I do not have enough money with me at the moment. But I will write you a promissory note. How about that?”
Winter waved his hand away.
“That is okay, forget about it.” Zaya did not see the sad smile underneath Winter’s hood.
“But.... no! I always pay my debt back. I will stick around with you until I pay you back! How would you like that?”
Winter groaned inside. He had no idea why he was attracting this sort, recently. First Campbell, then her. He prayed to whatever above not to stick the third one onto him. Disaster came in threes was the old saying. He remembered that he had no idea where the city he should head to was.
“Any idea where Arcanum is?”
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Author's Note:
1. Thanks to -The Slacker- for the ever diligent PR
2. Got to credit myself again this time.
3. Let me know if you spot inconsistencies or typo error, or any mistakes.
4. Enjoy, folks.