Royal Road, the first major VR game to be developed in the world, and already it was a success. It was a vast land of adventure, intrigue, and conflict; all of which was independent of the players, instead driven by the very NPCs that they had learned to take for granted. It truly was something innovational, something new and fresh for the masses to dig their hands into.

There were opportunities for a story around almost every corner, in every NPC. Thankfully, Royal Road had a lot of corners as it sported over at least a hundred cities, towns, and villages of various sizes and shapes; each with a smorgasbord of races native to the Versailles Continent. It was a constantly changing world; a second reality in all but name. It truly was a unique and satisfying experience for everyone; that is, except a certain pink-haired noble.

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When Louise finally regained her senses, she could do naught but stand paralyzed in horror as she took in her requested change of scenery, and the even more frightful additions that came with it.

In Halkegenia, there lived a handful of races, most unfriendly to the five human kingdoms. The menacing goblins of the swamps, for instance, who raided and pillaged the odd caravan if there wasn’t a noble escort or sizable armed guard to protect it; or perhaps the barbaric orcen tribes of the deep forests, giant pig-like creatures that ate the flesh of children, raising and devouring the rare village that didn’t have a noble to watch over them.

However, to the humans of Halkegenia, no race was more feared than the elves. Mythic creatures of such might that they made all who opposed them flee in terror, or never flee again. The Founder’s Elemental magic was nothing to them; and any army of humans that sought them out would inevitably lie defeated at their feet. They were to the humans, the church, and Founder Brimir himself, the ultimate enemy.

They were also within her line of sight, bartering and talking amongst themselves, and not killing them all.

And there; A Child-Eater of Count Mott’s province was standing right there, right to her side, bartering intelligently with a human of all things; and that Elf, with long ears that practically froze her heart, sat on a stool within the middle of the market place, playing music and accepting coins being thrown at him like some common beggar!

“Where am I?!” Louise cried as she slowly backed away from the market square and unintentionally into one of the surrounding beings, sending him stumbling.

“Watch where you’re going!” a male voice spat with annoyance, his ears hairy and unusual as he turned away from her already pale face, “Damn noobs, who the hell chooses pink hair…” he muttered loudly before being swallowed by the crowd.

“What was that?!” the young Vallière quietly asked herself with horrific wonder, “What—” but her question was quickly shoved into the back of her mind as she turned her head, her ears registering the loud and abrupt sound of an inferno roaring her way; something she had intimately come to know from her past forays into magic.

“Hunting parties looking for a fire mage?!” the Infernos parted and faded, revealing a hooded man in colorful robes conjuring magical flames with his bare hands, something that was literally impossible for anyone to do save but her mother or with elven spirit magic, “Level 120 Fire Mage, looking for a hunting party!”

His words made no sense, even if she could understand them; and while her mind briefly stalled on the magical theory of just how someone not her mother could conjure flame such as he did, she noticed her outstretched arms and the brown sleeves that adorned them.

“Brown sleeves? What—“, Louise stumbled out. Where was her cloak, her academy uniform? Something cold was beginning to settle in the pit of her stomach, something scary. Just what had she agreed to?

This was too much. Louise needed to get away; she needed a place to think, if only to contemplate just what she had gotten herself involved in. The young Vallière did the only thing she could do; she turned around and ran.

Pity she hadn’t watched where she was going.

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Quite a ways away from the city marketplace, resting nondescriptly by a dark alleyway and a small adjacent house; stood a quaint – if smelly – little shop. Inside, if those with a curious sense of adventure took the time to look, hanged rows upon rows of foul smelling herbs, dried out animals, and the occasional bowl over which a small pile of burning plants could usually be found. On the shop’s uncovered – and occasionally cluttered – walls hanged the rare piece of artwork or decoration, uniform only in the fact that the owner’s sense of decorum was decidedly of foreign tastes. A little deeper into the shop, surrounded by the odd plant, pretty looking rock, or dead mysterious creature, rested a man at a counter; waiting, and contemplating.

The man – known as Qin by the locals – was old; older than any human had any right to be. Old enough that his eyesight had begun to fail him ten years prior; and yet he still managed his shop with what could have been semi-regularity. It was foolish, the old man knew; and he should have hired an assistant months ago if he ever wanted to actually make a profit, but Qin hadn’t been in it for the profit in years. Managing the shop was more of a hobby, than a job, now.

Off in the distance, near the back of his shop, Qin began to hear the loud and mechanical ringing of a bell. Was it that time already? Briefly, the old man recounted the day’s events. Yes, it was indeed that time. It seemed that once again, he would have lost track of the day if it hadn’t been for his time-keeper.

Closing the shop had become routine for Qin over the years, in spite of his old age, in fact. Turn off the fires, empty the wastes, lock the doors; Simple, easy, and not too hard to remember.

Though, he’d have to make a special effort not to forget the fires, this time around. That last time had been embarrassing; and had almost given him a heart attack for his troubles. Hmm, perhaps he should try and make the effort find himself an assistant like his more frequent customers had been asking; it certainly wouldn’t hurt for him to have someone to talk too.

Unfortunately, few people came out his way anymore; and his place had become something of a novelty over the years. The current generation seemed to be more interested in buying bulk, something he was far less than capable of now; and always seemed to complain about his prices. However, such was understandable, even Qin knew his prices were a tad on the expensive side; but, again, he wasn’t in it for the money anymore.

However, it was about time he stopped being so reminisce; his shop wouldn’t close itself, after all.

A brief amount of time passed; during which the occasional aching joint or stiff back could be heard popping, and then Qin got started. Heading to the back of his workshop, the old man began to snuff out the few flames that he had had on since morning; and then proceeded onto the second item of his agenda, mainly, emptying the workshop wastes. Which, in all respects, wasn’t that time consuming; in fact, he’d only need to make a brief trip to the wagon in the alley by his shop. Because, although wastes could usually be converted into something more useful – like a few core chemicals and such – the practice was typically quite involved; and for those who lacked the time, it was more productive to simply store them somewhere out of the way, and then haul that to a place interested in purchasing such things.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

Grabbing his cane – more of a stick, really – the old man made his way over to the alley door with a bucket of waste. Opened the door, and then proceeded to have the living daylights startled out of him by the force of a heavy impact as it slammed into the wood of his door.

Consequently, the contents of Qin’s bucket ended up spraying itself across most of the alleyway street.

To say that Qin was surprised…would, be an understatement.

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-60 Health

Afflicted with: Staggered!

Afflicted with: Contamination!

Painfully clutching her head while trying to both ignore the sudden window covered in alien scribbles that had appeared before her eyes as well as the smell of whatever she had just run into, Louise curls herself up into a ball and moans.

“Oh dear; and that was a day’s worth, too.” An elderly voice comments, worry filling their tone.

Blearily, as she gathers her breath, Louise weakly looks towards the speaker. There, she sees and old and elderly man dressed in what reminded her vaguely of her teachers at the academy, holding a cane to his side. The man’s face was not at all like what she was used too; his eyes blank and somewhat slanted while his mouth and chin sported a vaguely familiar facial style, reminding her somewhat of Headmaster Osmond, though with obvious differences here and there.

With difficulty, Louise props herself up amidst whatever foul smelling concoction the elderly man had been carrying, and attempts to apologize, albeit with a fearful stutter, “I-I’m sorry—“

“Of course you’re sorry, you ran into a rather thick and well-made door, and then got splashed with chemicals; I’d be sorry too.” He interrupts seriously, “Now stand and follow. You need to get yourself clean; that is, unless you actually want your skin to start sloughing off.”

You received a quest!

Perfect Timing

An old alchemist by the name of Qin runs quaint little shop north of the city marketplace. He may come off as a tad abrasive, but he’s truthfully a very kind man.

Difficulty: Secret

Quest Requirements: Run into ‘Old Qin’, while he’s in the middle of closing shop.

Quest Penalty: ???

“What?!” the young Vallière screams as she fearfully tries to stand while making a point to ignore another glowing window of text that appeared before her.

“Well, perhaps not your skin.” The old man retracts as he begins to shepherd an unsteady Louise towards the sturdy looking building he had just come out of with his cane, “My batch for today was rather tame compared to the others; but accidental chemicals in your eyes, mouth, or on your skin will never be good for you.”

“B-but I can’t—”

“Are you a boyish girl, or a girlish boy?” the old man interrupts with a demanding, but not unkind tone.

“What kind of question is that?!” Louise bursts out, resisting against the old man’s shepherding as outrage and embarrassment begins to win over against fearful panic.

The old man a raised eyebrow at her general direction, “Because I am wondering whether or not you wish to keep your hair.”

Louise…didn’t quite know how to respond to that.

“I…I…fine” The young noble gives in, albeit with apprehension.

You accepted the quest!

“Good. Now head over to the workshop” he emphasizes with his cane, “strip, and stand over the drain when you wash; I’ll leave buckets of water near the door, but don’t put those clothes back on.”

“I…but, why?” Louise asks brokenly. Everything was going just too fast; and with her mind addled as it was with both her arrival and the crash, she didn’t rightfully know what was going on; or why the old man was being so considerate when she had been the one at fault.

“Later.” The old man sighs out, “I will see if I can find you something to wear.” pausing for a moment, the man taps his cane against the floor in thought, before shaking his head and leaving Louise.

A while later, the old man returns and sets out a few buckets of fresh water near the workshop door, as well as what looks like a clean set of small bluish clothes. “My name is Qin” the man says as he turns away from the workshop and outside Louise’s view, “You will tell me your name when you finish and have dressed. Then we will discuss how you will pay back those chemicals you spilled everywhere.”