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“When you send your messenger to Towne Fat Duck, have them take this letter to the McGizzard Tavern and give it to my Mame, Miss Ellis. I’ve written in a request for her to help your village get in contact with Sir Miono, the one that owns the dairy farm now, to begin trades for his milk.” Celine held a scroll with a simple ribbon holding it closed towards the Marc’Api Village Elder.
“Thank ye lass, Darleen has said we may fare well with getting milk from there than our passing merchants. They like to charge us too much, saying they get the milk from some far-off farm or some such hooey.” Elder Amaar smiled warmly, gratefully patting Celine’s hand as he took the scroll. “Now, off yeh go, ye not much time ‘fore the next moon to get to that competition.”
“Right you are. Thank you all for the hospitality!” Bahamut half smiled with a wave of his hand, tugging on Celine’s sleeve to turn and get back on the road.
As they lost view of the little farm village and continued on the road to Sa’Cardo, Celine remained silent with the corners of her lips dipped in a frown. Bahamut didn’t pressure her to fill the silence with words, simply watched their surroundings and kept close to her with their pack mu’ass on her other side.
That sense of being followed tickled at the back of his senses again but once again didn’t sense any impending harm to them, so he still chose to keep this fact to himself.
“I almost had them in agreement to trading my manual labor in their fields for a chance to learn the Po’cchi recipe.”
“Aye, you did, but I noticed it’d take you to inconveniencing the villagers with your trade offer and cause them to want to work you harder than themselves to make up for the loss of work.”
“Yet I didn’t ask you to summon one of your precious gems from your cavern.”
“….Are you sure my gem for the recipe is what is upsetting you, Celine?”
“Yes!... Well… I don’t know!” Celine rubbed her temple, gritting her teeth as his simple question did nudge her to dig into why she felt upset. “I was taught that if I haven’t a coin to spare then offer my skills in trade. That’s how we were always able to do well enough with our tavern, I’d offer my skills in trade with our neighbors and merchants that would pass through our village. This is the first time I found it difficult to offer my skills and when you showed off the ruby, I felt… deflated…”
“Have you ever traveled beyond your village?”
“…Am I that obvious?”
Bahamut chuckled, patting his large hand on her strong shoulder. “Welcome to Ov’Rea, Celine. Not everyone will trust you to work for them for something as simple as learning a recipe, but everyone trusts coins and gems.”
“Why is that?”
“Now that is something I can not easily answer in words, that is something you will need to learn for yourself in our journeys together.”
“Can’t you just go ahead and tell me now?”
“I could. I won’t.”
Celine pouted up at Bahamut, crossing her arms in frustration. He chuckled again and shook his head. “I won’t.” He reiterated with gentle firmness.
She snarled then reached into her satchel to get out the map and look it over. “We’ll be on the road for a week with our pace. There aren’t any other villages or towns between here and Sa’Cardo Cove.”
“Why is that?”
“There are corrupted beasts, though the one we’re taking has fewer than the other one.”
“How long is the other trail?”
“Three days but that is if we’ve had some hired guards with us.”
“You have me, remember?”
“True, you are an all-powerful Dragoon but I haven’t a weapon to properly defend myself, let alone Jack here.” She ruffled the mu’ass’ coarse short mane.
“Which reminds me, I’ve been wanting to ask you about this but felt you didn’t want to talk on it yet. Why did that quest end in that training ground?”
Celine sighed, ruffling Jack’s mane again before dropping her hand to hold his reigns. The mu’ass wasn’t going to wander off on them as he’s trained to stay by her side when she travelled, though furthest she had ever travelled before now was the fair grounds just outside Towne Fat Duck. She just kept her hand on his reigns in want to be grounded as she answered him.
“When I accepted that quest I was caught illegally using the training grounds to learn how to use a sword. I had been using the grounds for moons, now, but I was trying to learn based off some training scrolls I managed to earn from the trade fair.” She could feel her cheeks burning in embarrassment, “The training sword weighed as much as a stew cauldron, but it was longer and thinner than one. Despite the moons of my secretly training, I could still barely manage a good swing, let alone a jab.”
“Why is it illegal for you to train? I thought you said you’re this Permitted Human?” Bahamut still found the entire sociocultural changes between the century he flew free with his family to present day as bizarre.
“I am a Permitted Human, aye, but I am in the NPC class. It’s viewed as illegal for me to wield a weapon or even use any of my tools as weapons, since it would just rob the PCs of any work. Which I call moo’vine manure on that. The PCs are more than capable of finding work through the guilds or kingdoms, or even create their own quests, they don’t need work from individual NPCs. To them, I’m just another person to pull highway robbery on because they can charge whatever fee they see fit.”
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
“So, you wanted to defend yourself when you left to go start your own tavern.”
“Aye. Devnar caught me and you know the rest of the story from there.”
“So, NPCs can make quests but can also accept them?”
“Mm, I think the one Devnar gave me was a bit of an exception since it was a quest to change my class. Due to my class of NPC, there isn’t much I can do in way of accepting quests that are designed for PCs.”
“Hm, I suppose that makes sense in accordance with Atlia’s system. Do you still want to learn how to fight?”
Celine canted her head in thought then looked up to him, remembering that moment when she was helplessly bound up and he found her. “Yes, if only so I can prevent any further chances of harm should you not be nearby.”
Bahamut nodded then slowed his step so he could walk behind Celine, gazing his purple sights from head to toe, then doing it again as he dashed in front of her and walked backwards. “The sword was the incorrect weapon for you.”
“Excuse me?” Celine’s face contorted into confused offense as his jumping behind then in front threw her off to what he was doing.
“You’ve a good build for working in a kitchen and doing manual labor in fields but it doesn’t suit the use of a long blade. I’d say you’re better suited in using daggers, perhaps even a frying pan as those do pack a wallop when whacked just right. Even Kick Boxing would do you good in a fight.”
“Ooookaaay…” Celine squinted dubiously at him, “And how should I go about training for all of that?”
“I can teach you as we travel. You say we may encounter some corrupted beasts?”
“Aye.”
“And more if we take the other trail?”
“Well, aye?”
“Then let’s take that other trail. We can train against those beasts and reach the Cove in the same amount of time but with you better able to fight.”
Celine had to admit that his suggestion does make better sense than if they went the slower trail with little to fight, and it could give her better confidence in her self-defense when chance arises. The world held so many mysteries for her and at this moment she knew she had little to rely on to go against it all. With a heavy sigh, she nodded in concession to the plan.
When they reached the fork in the road, she guided them toward the path that led to more corrupted beasts hidden within a dense forest. The other path would have been more wooded passage, much what they have been walking amidst the foothills of Mount Fat Duck.
Bahamut summoned a sheathed dagger that weighed similarly to a butcher knife but with a slenderer blade and held the hilt towards Celine. She attached it to her corset belt, as instructed by him for easier release and use of the blade. Then he outfitted a place for a frying pan to be easy to grab off the mu’ass’ yoke, should she lose her dagger. However, he told her he would teach her how to fight with her fists and feet before they moved on to learning the dagger.
Thankfully the corrupt beasts they faced off with most were oin’coons, lone canines and curl-tailed rodents of unusual sizes. All the while he could sense the one that was tailing them remaining close to them, even as he was impressed with how unbothered Jack was during their fights. The mu’ass would just stay in one place while they dealt with the beasts then returned to walking with them along the trail.
As the forest started showing signs of night, they decided to set up camp just off the trail. Celine felt her muscles ached from doing as Bahamut instructed her to do in fighting, feeling a tinge of guilt that he did most of the slaying while she barely managed any kind of damage on the beasts. At least they were able to obtain a variety of materials and ingredients that were left behind after the slain beasts turned to dust in the wind.
“You’ve done well, Celine. I’ll show you some stretches to do after we eat so your muscles won’t be strained come morning.”
“Haaah thanks, though I am a tad too tired to do much in way of cooking. I’ll just warm up some of those po’cchi’s and rodent meat they gave us.”
“Sounds a good plan, and better you to warm it up as I may well just burn it.” He laughed at his self-joke.
“How is it that you’re as ancient as you are and yet you cannot cook?” Celine busied herself with getting the food items dumped into the crockpot along with some broth and asparagus then set it on the edge of the fire.
Bahamut shrugged, “Can’t be good at everything, that would be a tad boring on my end. I’ve many a skill, Little Flint, but when it comes to the skill of cooking I have managed to burn even water. Perhaps tis Elio trying to keep me humbled.” He laughed as a memory tickled his thoughts. “Elio would often find ways for his fires to cause me inconveniences, quite the prankster he was.”
They suddenly stood up as they heard leaves rustling and sounds of skittering. “Is that…?” They peered at the edge of the darkness outside the light of the fire and saw a pair of eery orbs shining in the darkness. They drew closer and soon they saw the heart shaped snout of an oin’coon sniffing in their direction. The creature stepped into the light with it’s masked eyes connecting with Celine’s grey gaze, turning pleadful to her as it stood on it’s hoofed hunches and clasped it’s little clawed hands together, making an odd whining oink to them.
“Huh, would you look at that. An albino oin’coon.” Bahamut remarked as he noticed the masked eyes and ringed tail were inverted compared to the usual black and grey, it’s floppy ears even trembling in show of meekness to them.
“I think it’s hungry?” Celine turned and used the hook tool to pull the crockpot off the fire. “The food should be warmed enough now” Using her apron and skit to pull the handle of the top off and fill the air with the aroma of meat and asparagus. The oin’coon whined harder as it now raised and lowered on it’s hind hoofs. She scooped a portion into a bowl then turned to offer it only to yelp in surprise as suddenly the creature screamed and jumped at the bowl to desperately grab for the food.
Bahamut grabbed the oin’coon by it’s scruff just before it’s little claws touched the bowl that Celine was now instinctively protecting like it were a child with one arm raised to block off the critter. It now wriggling and screeched in protest to Bahamut holding it by the scruff at the end of his extended arm. Soon it deflated and hung limply in defeat, looking to them with it’s brown eyes begging again.
They peered at each other in question of what to do about this.
“It could make for good meat.” It squeaked in response.
“No, we’re not killing it, Bahamut!” It sighed in relief.
“I’m not letting it go, it could try to attack you again. Let’s just kill it.” It squeaked sharply in fear now.
Celine smacked him upside the head with the dribbled spoon. “Absolutely not!” She looked at it as it sighed in relief again, tilting her head. “Do you understand us?” It nodded emphatically, clearly desperate to not be killed and eaten. “Hm, not often we meet an albino oin’coon and even rarer do we meet one that understands what we’re saying.”
“Probably an abandoned pet.” It nodded again, pointing enthusiastically at him. He squinted at the critter now, frowning in thought. “Were you following us since we left Towne Fat Duck?” It looked away in guilt then slowly nodded. “I take it you ate the scraps that night she tossed them?” It nodded slowly again, covering it’s eyes in shame and curling it’s tail between it’s legs.
That melted Celine’s heart, seeing it so meek in shame. “Well, if it’s mind enough to understand us and even respond like this, I say…” She held the bowl to the oin’coon, “In exchange of keeping you fed, will you help me find rare ingredients in our journey?”
“Oin’coon’s are good at sniffing out rare ingredients, but can you offer a quest to a critter like this?”
Just then they saw the opaque box appear in front of it. It nodded, reaching towards Celine in grabbing motions to the bowl and the box dinged in acceptance of the quest she gave it.
“As an NPC, I can give quests to anything that has a good level of intelligence. One of the few things that I can do, and I do mean to use this to my own advantage. Now, what is your name?” She gave the bowl to the creature and Bahamut set it down so it could happily devour the meal. She fixed up a couple more bowls for herself and him.
An opaque box appeared before the pair.
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Bahamut leaned back as he took a bite of his meal. “This is an interesting turn in our journey.”