Today’s Earth date: September 14, 1991
Teagaisg is a lovely city. I think I prefer it to the Capital. Not as many restaurants and businesses, but there are plenty, and it’s much more quiet. The people seem nicer too. The girls especially.
This has been a wonderful place to recharge.
I’m not looking forward to being back on the road, though.
I hope life on Earth is going well for everyone. That sense of smallness I wrote about before… We’re basically aliens here. No friends, no family, no roots whatsoever. All of this would be easier if we had those. And I so wish that we did.
I miss you all.
-The Journal of Laszlo the Paladin
***
“Lord Blackwell, I am pleased to introduce you to two scholars from the Royal Library. This is Mr. Fergus and this is Mr. Wayne.”
The woman doing introductions was named Sheeri, and she was the first elf Wayne had ever met in this world. The largest concentration of elves was on a smaller continent across the sea, and they kept to themselves for the most part.
Sheeri was over 300 years old, according to Fergus, which was roughly late forties or early fifties in the human lifecycle. Her ears reminded Wayne of the winged angel he once saw on the hood of an expensive car. Like those wings, Sheeri’s ears seemed almost stretched, long points extending beyond the back of her skull a full four or five inches.
She looked like any other lovely red haired woman otherwise, but not entirely. Wayne couldn’t put words to the feeling he had, but it was akin to the uncanny valley. She was here. She was real, yet his mind seemed to be telling him that her existence was impossible.
Fergus later said he never felt that way and posited that Wayne’s Earth memories were likely the source. Seeing fiction brought to life must be tough on the mind.
Lord Blackwell had long gray hair, combed shining silky straight, and had a vandyke to match. He was taller and fitter than Wayne expected. Were they meeting anywhere else but his lavish home, Wayne would have guessed Blackwell used to be a soldier.
He dipped his head slightly to Fergus and Wayne. “Gentlemen. It’s a pleasure to have two Royal Scholars visit my home. Sheeri tells me you have an interest in an item in my collection.”
“Indeed, sir,” Fergus said, returning the head bow. “We are grateful that you’ve given us so much of your time.”
“Nonsense. I relish a chance to have a lively conversation about the Chosen Heroes. Come, I had my staff pull the piece I believe you wanted.”
Blackwell led the group down a long carpeted corridor and into a hall filled with a variety of artifacts–statues, weapons, armor, paintings, jewelry. Moving through Blackwell’s collection felt like moving through a high-end museum, both in the nature of the presentation as well as the quantity of what he displayed.
Wayne recognized a few names on the placards as he passed, famous generals from his reading for the most part, but otherwise, his history of this world wasn’t deep enough for him to truly appreciate what he was looking at.
But he could appreciate the page sitting on a long table at the far side of the room. Blackwell had the Page of Power framed, so only one side was visible.
“Is this the correct document?” Blackwell asked.
Fergus nodded excitedly. “This is precisely what we’re looking for.”
“May I?” Wayne asked.
“Please,” Blackwell answered, gesturing for him to go ahead.
The page was in incredibly good condition. It had a few creases and some tears around the edges, but unlike the other Pages of Power he had seen, there were no ink spills or missing pieces.
He picked up page 15. It had “Save on winter adventure from Electronics Boutique” printed above an ink drawing of a wooden sled. This page promoted four games for the Sega Genesis: Cyberball, Super Monaco GP, After Burner II, and ESWAT: City Under Siege.
His experience with Sega titles relative to Nintendo and PC games was limited. He didn’t recognize any of those titles or know anything about how they played, but a robot game, a fighter pilot game, and what looked like a futuristic shooter were exciting prospects for potential abilities. He could take or leave the racing game, but it wasn’t scratched out or inked over, so he’d use Christmas List on it too when he could.
“May I see the back?”
“I’m afraid not,” Blackwell answered. “I am told that the paper is incredibly delicate, so I put it behind glass to keep it protected.”
“Do you recall what was on the back?”
“Like the side you can see, the back has four paintings, each with a description. The page on display was the more interesting side, by far.” Interesting that he referred to the games as paintings, but now that Blackwell mentioned it, Wayne could see how someone unfamiliar with video games would reach that conclusion.
“Is that side in similar condition?”
“Pristine?” Blackwell said, smiling. “Absolutely.”
So that meant a total of eight games to add to Christmas List. That would cover four level-ups, far more than any of his previous pages could.
“What do you know about the piece?” Fergus asked.
“This document was one of the personal effects Laszlo the Chosen Paladin carried with him throughout his journey. That page has been to every corner of every continent and made it back here. These paintings were his favorites from his world, and this page was a way to bring that art with him, keep it close for those long, difficult nights in the wilderness.”
Resource Values.
E.B. 1990 Christmas Catalog Page (Mint), Average Value of 1007 gold coins.
The only way Wayne could afford that was if he sold a few of the Hero items he liberated from the bunker.
“I’m curious,” Blackwell said, smiling, “How does this document connect to a research project?”
Fergus stepped back to let Wayne answer. “We are retracing their journey, hoping to learn more about them and their experiences. No one has studied these pages, to our knowledge. We aren’t sure what we will find.”
“You are welcome to stay as long as you’d like and return tomorrow as well. Take all the notes you desire.”
“Would you be willing to sell it?” Wayne asked.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Blackwell looked at Sheeri, who nodded, and looked back at Wayne. “Scholars don’t usually purchase items, at least that was my understanding.”
“We do from time to time, typically in the interest of preservation, but our interest is quite unique,” Fergus said.
“How so?”
“You strike me as a well-read man, clearly enamored with the beauty of history.”
Blackwell agreed with the compliment.
“I imagine a man of your position relishes the oddities, the rare finds, the experiences that few others have had.”
That was also true, Blackwell said.
Fergus held up a hand to present Wayne. “I present to you the Zero Hero. This page is from his world.”
“The Zero Hero? In my home?” Blackwell asked, breaking into a huge smile. He reached for and shook Wayne's hand. “I have wished to meet you for some time.”
Wayne didn't know how to respond so he simply smiled back.
“I have so many questions.”
“We have time,” Fergus said.
“I, unfortunately, have an appointment,” Sheeri said politely. “I must depart, but I do look forward to hearing what all of you ultimately agree to.”
Fergus and Blackwell thanked her for help. Wayne did the same. He had been quite distracted by her, he realized when she had gone, like she had a gravitational pull of her own. And that uncanny feeling never lessened.
Blackwell asked a stream of consciousness series of questions about every aspect of life on Earth. They talked about food, art, music, economics, political structures, sports, war, entertainment, and technology.
Wayne quickly felt like he was a very unreliable Wikipedia and Blackwell was just clicking around at random. The discussion on technology was particularly grueling. Blackwell wanted to know how a television or a cellphone worked, but Wayne could only really explain what those devices did. He struggled to even articulate the basics of the technology involved.
Early in his isekai life, he tried to work backward from what he knew about CRT televisions in an attempt to build the scaffolding of technological discoveries that made a television possible.
He didn't get very far.
Fortunately, Blackwell didn't mind. The Noble was thrilled by every word. He hadn't stopped smiling, and he could hardly sit still. His questions were animated, and his investment in each answer felt like storytime reading at the library.
As Fergus had clearly hoped, spending so much time on a topic Blackwell loved softened him to the idea of selling.
“You really want to buy this?” Blackwell asked.
Wayne said he did. “I don't have the 1,000 gold pieces, but I can offer you a trade.”
“Sheeri told you how much I paid.”
“She didn't. My research led me to that conclusion.”
Blackwell raised an eyebrow, suspicious.
“It's true.” Wayne pointed across the room. “Would you mind if I inspected that knife?”
When Blackwell said that was fine, Wayne retrieved the knife and made a small show of looking closely at the blade.
Resource Values.
Gronta the Black’s Sacrificial Knife, Average Value of 4,880.
“In this condition and given the current interest in Gronta memorabilia… I’d say this dagger is worth a little less than 5,000 gold.”
“I retract my concern,” Blackwell said. “You are indeed well-read. What would you trade?”
“I have a full set of Chosen Rogue Armor from the last cycle. Perfect condition.”
Blackwell narrowed his eyes.
“Wouldn't be something worth lying about if I wanted this deal to work out.”
“Fair. Then surely you know that the trade is not equivalent.”
Wayne smiled. “Yeah, you can sweeten the deal.”
“Ha! What do you have in mind?”
“I'm guessing you know other collectors who have pages. That information would be very valuable, so much so that I don't need to cover the full 130k the armor is worth. Anything else you think I'd want? If it helps, I've started doing fieldwork.”
Blackwell pinched the soul patch portion of his vandyke and stroked it.
He stood and moved with purpose through his collection and bent over to open a low drawer. He returned with a silver necklace with an emerald pendent the size of a gold piece.
“Are you familiar with this item?”
With Blackwell's permission, he picked up the pendant to evaluate it with his skill.
Ezra’s Mana Well, Average Value of 47800 gold coins.
“Supposedly that necklace halves the mana costs for spells,” Blackwell said. “I cannot cast spells, so I've not been able to verify it. I'd offer that and 20,000 gold pieces. As well as the contacts you wanted.”
“How many contacts?”
“Seven collectors and two other dealers.”
“25,000 and we’re square.”
Blackwell shook Wayne's hand. A few hours later, Wayne and Fergus left with the Page of Power, leads on where to find more, a magic necklace, and a writ of credit signed by Blackwell to be shown at his bank of choice.
Wanting to enjoy the moment, they opted to walk the city, ideally finding food roughly half way between Blackwell's and the Grand Pegasus.
“What are you going to do with all that gold?” Fergus asked.
“Give Sheeri her fee and put the rest into our travel fund.”
“You don't have to do that.”
“Doing my part. You’ve been spending your money, so it’s only fair I pitch in.”
Fergus thought for a moment. “Let's get a carriage, actually. I know where we are eating tonight.”
***
With the ratman battle pushing him to level 5, Wayne could add two more games to Christmas List, and he had a brand new Page of Power to do it.
Fergus sat on one of the penthouse couches with yet another glass of wine. Wayne didn't bother counting how many the scholar had by now. Fergus was basically a professional.
Wayne disassembled the frame and went to remove the page. It stuck to the matte backing.
The ink on one of the back corners pulled away from the paper and stayed stuck to the matte. Wayne’s shrill of alarm was high pitched and unflattering.
There wasn't any sort of glue that Wayne could see. This looked more like moisture damage. Not a lot, likely above average humidity, but it was enough. Enough that he worried the entire paper might get damaged, or ruined.
Oh god.
“I'm going to do the front page first. Just in case.”
Fergus raised a glass.
So now Wayne had to pick.
Football playing robots had to be fast and tough, so Cyberball seemed worthwhile. He had low hopes for Super Monaco. Between a fighter pilot game and a science fiction police game, fighter pilot was an easy choice.
The catalog described Cyberball with the following blurb:
It’s the football of the future with no rules, only brute force! Massive robots grapple for yardage on a playing field without penalties and only leave the field when their heads blow off!
And for After Burner II:
Enemy aircraft are closing at Mach 5 and more are dead ahead. Enemy positions change with frightening speed. Fire missiles. Dive and do a 360 degree roll. The terrifying speed of battle never lets up!
After a deep breath, Wayne dipped his quill and circled Cyberball and After Burner II.
He felt those wonderful vibrations. He had two new skills:
Blitz – Rush the quarterback.
Skycat F-14XX – Widely regarded as the baddest bird ever to darken the skies!
“Holy shit. Did I just unlock a fighter jet?”
Both skills were clickable but... A fighter jet wouldn’t fit in here, and Blitz sounded like a charging attack of some kind. Yet, they were oh so tempting.
Fergus was unsure what was impressive about a fighter jet because he had no idea what one was. Wayne explained it as being a sort of dragon golem controlled by a person, capable of amazing feats of speed and destruction. The old scholar agreed that it would be unwise to bring a dragon into their suite.
Wayne got up and hugged Fergus, who nearly spilled some red on purple velvet cushions. In no universe would Wayne have found that Page of Power on his own. Fergus had come through for him yet again.
“Thank you,” he said.
“You have to let me watch. I don’t care if goblins kidnap me.”