You awaken early to a whisper laced with mischief, "Come, young one," the monk murmurs, his fingers brushing the bells on his robe. "We venture into the unknown! Wherein the potion shop, depot, and bank are."
Blinking against the dim light, the stiffness in your limbs a reminder of your rude awakening, you stretch, feeling the lingering dryness in your throat. Monk Kiatsu’s grip on your wrist is unexpectedly firm as he hauls you upright. "No time to dawdle," he urges in a brisk tone.
Out into the street you follow as the city of Carlin begins to stir. The air is cool, carrying the scent of spices and freshly baked bread. Merchants set up stalls, their voices mingling with the clatter of hooves and the distant clanging of the blacksmith’s hammer. Life pulses through the city, vibrant and overwhelming, a stark contrast to yesterday.
Despite his ag, the monk moves with surprising speed, his brown robe swishing around his ankles. Keeping pace with him is a challenge, your legs burning with effort as you navigate the labyrinth of streets.
Deeper into the city, the lively morning activity fades and the atmosphere thickens. Ahead, a group of guards stand sentinel outside a large, square building. Their faces are etched with caution as weary travelers linger nearby. "That’s the depot," Monk Kiatsu whispers, his voice lower now, almost conspiratorial. "But we shall head this way first. Keep up."
He turns sharply, leading you down a side road lined with modest houses. The walk feels endless, your feet aching from the unyielding stone beneath them. The burn fades to a dull ache by the time you reach your destination—a potion shop. Smoke curls lazily from the chimney and the windows reveal a bustling interior.
"Alas, we’ve arrived!" announces the physicker, a curious glint in his eye as he pushes open the door. The wood creaking loudly before slamming shut with a *Bang!*. The sudden noise startles the patrons inside, who quickly turn to see the source of the commotion. He grins, clearly enjoying the attention.
Looking up from behind the bar, a sandy-haired man, dressed in a loose white shirt and leather apron, grins as he yells out. "Master Mischief! What brings you here?" he asks, his tone familiar and playful as he polishes a bottle of something that glows an swamp green inside its dark glass.
image [https://i.ibb.co/jgs05J5/IMG-0692.jpg]
"Ensuring all is alive and well this morning, Master Akilliz," Monk Kiatsu chuckles, waving a hand dismissively. "I’d like you to meet someone." He gestures toward you with a sweeping motion.
Stepping out from behind the bar, wiping his hands on his apron. He studies you with mild curiosity. "Ah, a new face. Are you a servant from the temple?" he quips, though his tone suggests he already knows the answer.
Monk shakes his head, chuckling softly. “No, no. Erazon here is new in town.” He emphasizes the word with a raised eyebrow, as if sharing a private joke. “He’ll be needing some potions, though right now he’s as poor as a ghoul in a garden.”
Akilliz chuckles, his voice warm and inviting. “Well, we can’t have that,” he says, stepping closer. “Come, observe my wares!” Gesturing to a shelf behind him, you see many different colors of bottles, strange items, and two large cauldrons stirring blue liquid in a rhythmic dance. He continues in a well rehearsed tone; “I sell potions to heal, restore, or even breathe fire. We’ve got herbs an’ ale, food, scrolls and crystal too. Whatever ye’ need it’s here for you.”
He pauses, then laughs, breaking the moment. “That’s my pitch, anyway. Happy to be of service if you ever need it.” He continues, his grin broadening. “And if your soul’s in need of something stronger, I’ve got a few bottles in the back that’ll make the stars dance before your eyes.”
You can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm, feeling a little more at ease. “Thank you. Your shop is… amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it!”
"Much obliged, young Erazon. But enough about my wares," Akilliz says, his tone shifting slightly as he glances at the monk. "Tell me, how fares the road to Luminael?"
His expression grows serious for a moment, the physiker’s voice dropping to a near whisper. "The path is there, soon to be walked again."
Nodding subtly, the potion master smiles. A brief look of understanding passing between the two before his usual jovial demeanor returns.
Suddenly, one of the guards slams an empty bottle onto the table. shattering it into pieces. The remnants of a deep red liquid spill onto the ground, shards of glass scattering across the floor.
The nearby patrons grimace and mutter curses under their breath. The guards, oblivious to the chaos they’ve caused, wave their tankards and demand more drinks, their loud voices grating against Akilliz’s patience. His expression sharpens, a flash of disgust crossing his face.
"Apologies, Master Motus," Akilliz says, his tone shifting to one of irritation as he glances at the guards. "They’ve been harassing me all morning. I’d better tend to them before they scare off my regulars." He reaches into his pocket and hands the monk a small package wrapped in brown cloth, which the caretaker quickly tucks away.
With a swift motion, Akilliz pulls a small red bottle from his satchel, the liquid inside glistening in the light. “Here, Erazon… This one’s on the house.” He winks at you before turning back to the guards, his expression darkening.
"Awful kind of you, old friend… Right you are," Monk Kiatsu replies, his eyes narrowing suspiciously at the rowdy bunch. "Good day then. We’ll be seeing you."
“Th-thank you. I’ll be back when I earn some coin!” you manage to blurt out, grasping the small vial and tucking it into your backpack as the monk signals it’s time to leave.
Waving his arm high in the air, the monk motions for you to follow him. "Let us venture to the depot, and then…I must return to the temple."
You follow him back down the path, your legs burning again after the brief reprieve in the shop. At the crossroads, Monk Kiatsu stops and points. "I’m afraid you walk too slow. Therein lies the depot. You can store your items for safekeeping there, and the bank is just inside as well. You’ll need gold, son. Pick up a contract at the job board for ‘Ghouls’ and take it to Captain Ferrow at the West Gate. He’ll have you help with a... little problem."
The monk starts to walk away, raising his hand in a high wave. "You’ll be just fine, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon!"
You watch him go, feeling a pang of sadness at the loss of his brief companionship. "I appreciate you, Mister Kiatsu! I will come visit you!" you call out, your voice echoing slightly in the morning air.
As he disappears into the distance, you refocus on your task. Your destination looms ahead, and you wonder to yourself "When am I going to learn how to do magic?", frustrated that you forgot to ask the him about it.
Making your way into the depot, his words echo in your mind: "Grab the Ghouls contract." You find the job board and look for one. Quickly finding it. You read the bold title, “Ghoul Hunting, 50 Gold Coins,” a task that seems far beyond your capabilities, but his confidence in you pushes you toward the impossible.
Inspecting the bank, you have no business there yet, but you see a short, stout, angry little man with a big beard and nose stationed as the clerk there. “Is that a dwarf?” you wonder to yourself. Moving on carefully, you walk toward the direction you believe is west
Stalking travelers who seem to be going the same direction, you see the towering gate ahead. As you approach, you notice a group of armored guards stationed outside, their eyes scanning the flow of travelers entering the city. They seem on edge, barking orders and demanding payment for entry—a wand, a spellbook, or gold coins. The sight fills you with unease, especially as you overhear a young couple surrender a family heirloom to gain passage.
You steel yourself and continue toward the gate, but before you can reach it, a burly guard, his face set in a permanent scowl, steps forward to block your path. “What do you want, you pathetic excuse for an elf?” he sneers, looking at your contract, then you, up and down with a snort. “Think you can handle a ghoul? You’d better turn around before you get yourself hurt.”
The words sting, and doubt creeps into your mind. “I… Monk Kiatsu sent me. He said I should speak to Captain Ferrow about “The ghoul problem”.”
The guard’s expression changes slightly at the mention of the monk, a flicker of recognition crossing his face. Without another word, he grabs you by the arm and pulls you aside, away from the commotion at the gate. “Ahh. Follow me,” he mutters.
You’re led through a side passage that runs parallel to the city walls and away from onlookers. As you walk, the man’s demeanor shifts from hostile to measured. “I’m Captain Ferrow,” he says in a low voice, his tone serious. “Monk Kiatsu’s a good man, but I doubt even he knows what kind of trouble you’re about to get into.”
A chill runs down your spine. “What trouble is that, Captain?”
He stops and turns to face you, with dark and weary eyes. “There’s a group of troublemakers in town—an odd lot who call themselves the Cabbage Cult. They’ve been causing chaos with their so-called ‘Cabbage Paloozas.’ It’s absurd, really. But let me tell you, cleaning up after their devastation is no laughing matter.” He rests his hand upon his hilt, shifting slightly.
“Cabbage Paloozas?” you echo, trying to grasp the seriousness of the situation.
“Exactly what it sounds like,” Ferrow replies, his voice tinged with frustration. “They cover the entire town in cabbages—every surface, every building, every street. He grits his teeth and tightens his grip on the sword. “It’s a mess, and the townsfolk are getting fed up. We need you to find out when their next stunt is happening and put a stop to it before it gets out of hand.”
He pauses, his gaze hardening as he steps closer to you. “One more thing,” he adds, his voice dropping to a near whisper, “if you think this is just a prank, you’re wrong. There’s more at stake here than you realize. Fail me, and you’ll find out the hard way.”
You nod, the weight of the task settling on your shoulders. “What do you need me to do?
“Go to the cabbage patch just outside the north gate,” Ferrow instructs. “The cult’s been working there, picking cabbages like it’s their life’s purpose. I need you to infiltrate their ranks, figure out their plans, and report back to me. If you can stop the next Palooza, there’ll be 50 gold coins in it for you. But keep this quiet—I don’t want them catching wind of our plans.”
You nod again, the gravity of the situation now fully sinking in. “Consider it done Captain!”
"Superb," Ferrow says, his eyes narrowing as he studies you. He leans in slightly, lowering his voice to a tone that sends a chill down your spine. "This isn’t a game. Get too close to them, and you’ll find out there’s more at stake than just cabbages."
With that, Captain Ferrow turns and walks away, leaving you alone to think about your mission.
The sun is beginning to dip toward the horizon as you make your way toward the cabbage patch. The city gradually gives way to open fields, the air growing fresher. When the patch finally comes into view, you notice figures moving among the rows of leafy green cabbages, their dark robes fluttering in the gentle breeze.
Crouching low behind a cluster of bushes, you observe. The robed figures work methodically. Among them, one figure you’ve seen before—that girl with light blue hair. From this distance you notice her porcelain skin glints in the fading sunlight. She moves with a grace that seems almost regal, her every motion deliberate and purposeful.
As you hesitate, unsure whether to approach or retreat, her large blue eyes meet yours, recognition flickering across her features. A welcoming smile spreads across her lips, and you freeze, caught off guard by the sudden connection.
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"Ah, it seems fate has guided you to us once more," she says softly, her voice carrying the gentle hint of elven heritage. Her words are deliberate, almost musical, and they make your heart skip a beat. "I thought you would be resting up at the temple."
Before you can respond, a deep, familiar voice rumbles from behind her. "Erazon," Godric says, stepping into view with a slight frown, his dark red eyes narrowing as they lock onto you. His silver hair cascades past his shoulders, adding to the imposing presence he carries effortlessly. "Seems you’ve wandered quite far from where we left you. Welcome to the cabbage patch, this is my sister, Elizza"
You swallow, feeling a mix of guilt and gratitude. "I—I didn’t mean to intrude," you stammer, rising from your hiding spot and brushing the dirt from your clothes. "I was just… exploring the town, trying to find my bearings."
Her smile softens. "No need to apologize," she says, stepping closer. Her presence, so close and so captivating, makes your heart race. "We are always glad to see a friendly face, especially one we have helped before."
Crossing his arms over his broad chest, the tall figure is studying you with a mixture of concern and curiosity. His muscular frame, accentuated by his leather apron and the practical, well-crafted clothing beneath it, adds weight to his words. "Exploring, eh? Funny how you ended up here, with us." His tone carries a hint of suspicion, though it’s tempered by the kindness in his gaze.
You nod, feeling the tension ease slightly. "I didn’t expect to run into you two," you admit, trying to keep your voice steady.
She laughs softly, "The world has a way of guiding us, does it not?" she says, her tone light but with an underlying seriousness. The way her words flow captivates you. "Though I am glad you are here. We could use an extra pair of hands."
Her brother grunts in agreement, though his expression remains sharp. "Aye, but be wary all the same," he says, his voice lowering slightly as he takes a step closer. "Carlin’s a town with shadows, and not everything is as it seems."
She places a gentle hand on your arm, her touch warm and comforting, sending a shiver down your spine. "Join us" she says, "We’re just harvesting cabbages—it’s simple work, but it keeps the mind at peace.
You nod, "I’d be glad to help," you reply, forcing a small smile. "It’s the least I can do."
As the three of you begin to work side by side, the connection between the siblings is clear—his protective nature and her gentle strength complement each other, creating a bond that feels unbreakable. You notice the subtle ways her elven heritage manifests in the way she moves—the way her fingers dance lightly over the cabbages. Even the way the plants seem to respond to her touch, their leaves unfurling just a little more as if in reverence.
Godric watches you closely, his movements deliberate and strong as he pulls the cabbages from the earth with ease. "You’ve got the look of someone who’s seen their share of hardships," he says suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence. "Here, we look after our own. So long as you’re with us, you’ve got nothing to fear."
She nods in agreement, her eyes meeting yours once more. "Indeed," she adds softly, "in the company of friends, even the darkest paths become bearable."
You offer a small smile, feeling the warmth of their acceptance despite the strangeness of the situation. For the first time since your journey began, you feel a sense of belonging, however fleeting it might be.
As the sun begins to set, casting a golden glow over the cabbage patch, the three of you continue your work, the simple task of harvesting cabbages somehow transforming into something far more meaningful. Just as you begin to relax, feeling a tentative sense of camaraderie with the siblings, a new voice breaks through the quiet hum of the cabbage patch.
“Ahoy there, lad!” The voice is hearty, with a hint of mischief, and you turn to see a man striding toward you. His black hair is tousled, falling over a broad forehead, and his nose, large and prominent, gives him an almost comical appearance—if not for the sharpness in his eyes. He’s dressed in dark robes similar to the others, but there’s an air of authority about him, a confidence that marks him as someone important.
The elven girl straightens up and waves. “Blackbane!” Her voice carries a note of affection that makes you curious. Her brother grunts in acknowledgment, while you shift uncomfortably, unsure of how to respond.
He stops in front of you all, his eyes flicking over the cabbages you’ve gathered. “We’ve got about six wagons full,” he says, nodding in approval. “How are you guys doing?”
“We’re making good progress,” She replies, her tone light and cheerful, though you catch a hint of something more in her gaze—a sharpness, a readiness.
His focus shifts to you, and for a moment, you feel like he’s sizing you up. “Ah, a new recruit, eh?” He grins, showing a row of slightly crooked teeth. “Good to have you, lad. Hope you’re ready for some fun tonight.”
You manage a nervous smile, unsure how to respond. Blackbane’s presence is both welcoming and unsettling—there’s a hint of something darker beneath his friendly demeanor, something you can’t quite put your finger on.
“By the way,” He adds, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “when the fun begins, I’ve got a special target in mind—thick oaf of a banker who shorted me on change earlier. We’ll see how he likes a surprise cabbage or two.” After which, he quickly waves and starts walking away.
Elizza watches him go, a small smile playing on her lips. “That’s our leader for you. Always up to something.”
Crossing his arms over his broad chest, Godric says “And it’s usually more trouble than it’s worth. But,” he adds, glancing at you with a wry smile, “it’s a good kind of trouble.”
You chuckle nervously, still processing the encounter. The idea of targeting a banker with cabbages seems ridiculous, yet there’s a part of you that’s curious—almost excited—about what’s to come. As you continue picking cabbages, the rough, waxy leaves brushing against your fingers, you try to shake off the lingering unease.
A voice draws you back to the present, her tone as soothing as a breeze rustling through the leaves. “You’re doing great,” Elizza says encouragingly, her deep blue eyes sparkling with warmth. “It’s good to have you with us. It’s rare to meet another elf out here in Carlin.”
As she speaks, she brushes a stray lock of her light blue hair behind her pointed ear, the unusual runes on her face catching the last glimmers of sunlight. You nod, forcing a smile, but the internal battle rages on. You were sent here by Captain Ferrow to gather information, not to make friends. Yet, the warmth of their acceptance, the simple joy of their company, makes the thought of betrayal feel like a heavy stone in your chest.
The evening deepens, the three of you finish gathering the last of the cabbages, their weight solid and cool in your hands. With the last basket filled, you make your way back toward the heart of Carlin. The streets are quiet, the cobblestones cool underfoot, with most of the townsfolk retired for the night. There’s a sense of anticipation in the air, as if something is about to happen.
The duo lead you to a small square where several of the robed figures from earlier are gathered. There’s a jovial atmosphere among them, their voices low and filled with laughter as they prepare for what's to come. Elizza hands you a cabbage, her smile bright even in the dim light, the arcane symbols on her face glowing faintly.
“Here you go,” She says, her voice carrying a note of playful mischief. “This is where the real fun begins.”
The towering figure, standing beside you with his arms crossed, gives a slight nod of approval, his dark red eyes reflecting the light of the nearby lanterns. “Just remember,” he says in his deep, steady voice, “it’s all in good fun. Don’t take it too seriously, or you’ll miss the point.”
You take the cabbage from her, feeling its cool, firm texture in your hands, the absurdity of the situation only adding to the excitement bubbling within you. The scent of fresh greenery mixes with the night air, and for a moment, the weight of your mission fades into the background, replaced by the simple, spontaneous joy of the moment.
Godric claps you on the back, nearly knocking the breath out of you with his solid hand. “Welcome to the Cabbage Palooza,” he says with a grin.
You feel the cabbage, a strange mix of anticipation and amusement surging within you. “So, what exactly are we doing with these?”
The captivating elf sparkled with mischief. She said “It’s a little tradition we have. We spread a bit of chaos—throwing cabbages into windows, onto rooftops, anywhere we can. It’s a way to remind the people here that life doesn’t have to be so serious all the time.”
The stoic man nodded in agreement. “And if it causes a bit of a mess? Well, that’s just part of the fun.”
You can’t help but smile. There’s something infectious about the lightheartedness of it all, a welcome reprieve from the weight of your hidden agenda. The three of you, along with the other robed figures, begin to move through the town, hurling cabbages with reckless abandon. The sound of greenery thudding against walls and splattering on windows echoes through the quiet streets, punctuated by bursts of laughter.
In this moment all that matters is the shared laughter and the friendship that’s quickly building between you.
At one point, you catch sight of her arranging a pyramid of cabbages in the middle of the street, her expression one of pure delight. There’s something enchanting about the way she moves. You’re drawn to her, finding yourself wanting to know more about this mysterious looking girl who has so ensnared your attention.
Her brother is less overt in his enjoyment. You sneak a glimpse of his mouth stretching into a grin as he lobs a large one onto a nearby shop. He catches your eye and gives a small nod, as if to say, “See? This is what life’s about.”
For the first time since you woke up, you feel like you belong.
The reality of the situation crashes down on you, the joy of the moment suddenly tinged with fear. Your keen elven ears have picked up the sound of clattering armor in the distance—guards.
You quickly turn to the siblings, your voice urgent. “Guards are coming! We need to get out of here!”
Narrowing his eyes as he listens, Godric tries to catch the sound you’ve already heard. “I don’t hear anything,” he says slowly, “I trust your ears. We should go.”
Moving quickly, their playful demeanor replaced by a calm, practiced urgency. Elizza grabs your hand, pulling you along as the three of you make your way through the deserted streets.
As you reach the edge of the square, you remember something important—Blackbane, is likely still near the depot. He doesn’t have the ears you do, and if you don’t warn him, he’ll be caught.
You glance between them, the weight of their concern pressing heavily on your heart, but the thought of him being captured gnaws at your conscience. Shaking your head, you steel yourself. “I have to go warn Blackbane,” you insist, your voice firm despite the fear swirling within you. “I’ll be quick!”
Elizza, standing beside you, squeezes your hand, her fingers trembling ever so slightly against your skin. “Please, do not go back. We cannot bear to lose another to the guards.”
Godric studies you for a long moment, his jaw clenching as he wrestles with the decision. Finally, with a heavy sigh, he nods. “Be careful,” he mutters, his voice rough like sea salt. “We’ll meet you by the north gate if you make it.”
As you turn away, the moonlight catches Elizza’s face, casting her in a lunar light that takes your breath away. For a fleeting moment, you are captivated by the sight—her hair shimmering like spun silver, her perfect skin glowing softly, and her eyes reflecting the night sky.
“She is an angel,” you think to yourself, your heart aching with both longing and resolve.
Her grip on your hand tightens, her nails pressing into your skin as if trying to hold onto you for just a moment longer. Her eyes, filled with worry and unspoken words, lock onto yours, silently begging you to stay. But as you gently pull your hand away, she releases you, “May Aurelia guide your steps, Erazon,” she whispers.
Turning and sprinting back toward the depot, the sounds of the guards grow louder with each step. Your heart races, not just from the fear of being caught, but from the need to warn him in time.
You reach the depot just as he is finishing up his mischief, stuffing a final cabbage into a banker’s drawer. “Hey!” you hiss, trying to keep your voice low but urgent. “The guards are coming! You need to get out of here now!”
His eyes widen, and he immediately drops what he’s doing, moving with surprising speed for a man of his build. “Thanks, lad. You’re a good one,” he says, clapping you on the shoulder as he dashes toward the nearest alleyway.
You start to follow, but before you can take more than a few steps, the heavy clang of armor surrounds you. The guards have arrived. Captain Ferrow is at the front, his presence commanding and dangerous.
Your heart sinks as you see the look in his eyes—betrayal mixed with a simmering fury. “I… I can explain,” you stammer, but the words die in your throat.
“What’s the meaning of this nonsense, RAT?” Captain Ferrow’s voice booms, each word laced with anger. His fists are clenched so tightly that the leather of his gauntlets creaks under the strain. “I was expecting news from you before dusk. You mean to tell me you stand amidst a field of cabbages, yet couldn’t come to the west gate as promised!? I gave you a chance at a quest, and you failed me. LOOK AT THIS BLASTED MESS. GUARDS! BIND HIM!
Your pulse quickens as the guards move in, their hands gripping the hilts of their swords, ready to strike if you make any sudden moves. One of them draws his blade with a sharp, menacing sound, the steel glinting in the dim light.
You glance around, desperately searching for an escape route, but there are none. The crowd of onlookers has grown, and from the corner of your eye, you catch sight of a figure pointing in your direction.
“He was with them! He was throwing cabbages all over town!” The accusation pierces through the air, sealing your fate.
In that split second, a thousand thoughts race through your mind. You could try to run, but the guards are too close, and you doubt you’d make it more than a few steps before being sliced down. You could plead for mercy, but the fury in Ferrow’s eyes tells you that mercy is the last thing on his mind.
You decide to face the consequences of your actions. The memory of his threat echoes in your mind, “You’ll find there’s more at stake than just cabbages,” and you know you’re about to pay the price.
One of the guards grabs your arm, yanking it behind your back with a force that makes you wince.
The Captain steps closer, his face twisted with anger. “You’ve made a fool of me, elf,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous.
“Take him to the cells,” Ferrow orders, his voice cold. “We’ll decide his fate in the morning.”
The guards tighten their grip on you, the cold iron of the manacles biting into your wrists as they drag you away. You catch a glimpse of Blackbane disappearing into the shadows, already making his escape. At least he’s safe, you think, trying to find some solace in that.
When you reach the cells, the guards roughly shove you inside, the door slamming shut with a loud clang. The sound echoes in the small, dimly lit space, the only light coming from a small barred window high up on the wall. The air is damp and cold, the stone floor hard beneath you as you sink to your knees, exhaustion and despair washing over you.
You close your eyes, trying to shut out the world, but the events of the night play over and over in your mind—the joy of the Cabbage Palooza, the laughter with your new friends, the terror of being caught, and now this… this cold, lonely cell
You might have saved someone, but what good is that if you’ve lost everything else?
Doubts and choices you’ve made so far invade your mind like a parasite. You didn’t learn any magic, earn any coin, and now find yourself in a prison cell. What punishment would be coming in the morning? Would you ever find out why you can’t remember anything? You become so frustrated you silently cry, your chest heaving as the sound of despair echoes off the empty walls.
Then, the nightmare returns.