A Suggestion for Entertainment
“Aren’t we going to mingle or socialize, Master?” asks Arlin as he watches you bite into another piece of fried fillet: tender and juicy on the inside, crunchy and crispy on the outside.
As you gulp down the meat, you waggle a large, floppy prawn at the boy. “Anyone who wants to speak to us enough will come to speak to us. It’s the easiest way of finding out who is the most interested in us. Here, eat some more if you want to grow up to be like me.” You drop the prawn on his plate. Arlin frowns, apparently not so sure that he wants to grow up to be like you after all, but he tucks in anyway.
As you turn to the countless platters of food, wondering if you should try the fanciful beaten egg dishes or the grilled boar feet, and mentally calculating the amount of food that you could smuggle out under your coat, you hear footsteps approaching your back. They were crisp and heavy. Not a girl’s footsteps, not by a long shot. With a sigh, you turn around and come face to face with a large man almost as tall as you are, hat included. His face is craggy, but what stands out more is a luxuriant moustache that is so well-groomed and pointy that it could be easily called the best moustache in the hall – and there is plenty of amazing facial hair around. He appears to be twice your age, and from his build and his scarred face, likely quite experienced in life. There is a jovial twinkle in his eye. “Might you be Trider, the man who assisted Prince Farland in Eris?” booms the man with a deep baritone.
“That would be me, yes,” you say, chewing on a boar’s toe. You give him a professional nod.
“A pleasure to meet you. I’m Alexander Mulberry, the head of the Adventurer’s Guild here in the capital.” He offers you his hand. You look down at your greasy hand and hesitate, but the man grabs it anyway and shakes it vigorously with a crushing grip. “Bah, come on! What’s some oil between men?” He laughs, though he wipes his hand on his pants all the same.
“The Adventurer’s Guild? I see.” You are quite familiar with these guilds back in your world, having been involved in a small enterprising effort where your contacts generated requests and you resolved them before anyone else could, thereby increasing your fame and fortune easily. It had ended messily later on, but that was another story. Cleaning your hands with a hand towel offered by a waiter, you say, “I have heard that the Adventurer’s Guild of Methuss is one of the more powerful branches around.” You haven’t heard that at all, but that is not going to stop you from saying it.
“Oh, we have a long history,” he shakes his head humbly though seeming to be pleased by your words, “Won a few tournaments back in the day, and completed many dangerous quests. I wouldn’t say we are that powerful, but I suppose we’re pretty well known. I mean, after all, a guild is only as good as its regular adventurers, right? And of that, I’m quite sure that my children won’t lose to anyone. Some of them would make the top ten adventuring groups even in Byarlant!” Alexander laughs his booming laugh again.
“Your children?” An image of him fathering a whole team of adventurers comes into your mind.
“Just a figure of speech, just a figure of speech. I think of them like my kids. Anyway, Trider. I’m here to ask you something.”
“Go ahead.”
“You were in Erise recently, right? Do you know of the pillar of light that appeared about two months ago, in the Forest of Ruin?”
“A pillar of light?” You scratch your chin, making a show of thinking. “What of it?”
“Hm, I just thought you’d know something about it, seeing as you were in the region and all,” says Alexander. “I believe reports say that it appeared before you bailed Prince Farland out.”
“I suppose it is a very curious phenomenon. I’ve heard of it on my way here, yes, but I haven’t had the chance to witness it myself.”
“Count yourself lucky you didn’t. It happened in the middle of the most dangerous place in Methuss. If you’d gone exploring there by yourself, even you would not have made it out unscathed, Trider.” Alexander nods sagely. “Going alone would be too risky. That’s why we’re trying to get all the information we can about the matter, you see, and mounting an expedition. The nobles’ been pressing us to get it done for weeks now.” He glances at Duke Brescia. “Damn old fart. Should send in his own soldiers if he’s so interested in it.”
“Why doesn’t he?” you ask.
“Well, because we adventurers are better equipped and more skilled at exploration. That, and the forest is ruled by the legendary Minotaur Firelord.”
You recall that bull-looking thing you had fried upon your arrival here. “Sounds like a rather scary beast,” you say. “I would definitely not want to wake up in the morning and meet anything with that name.”
“It is a legendary monster,” says Alexander. He then begins rattling off a list of its traits. “The Minotaur Firelord is as strong as any giant, wreathed in flames hot enough to melt stone, and can regenerate from any mortal wound dealt to it. Of course, we don’t plan on confronting it – that would be too risky. Perhaps if the Knight-Commander accompanied us we would chance a frontal attack, but even then it would be a tough fight.”
“Well, doesn’t it sound awfully dangerous to explore that place, then?” You point out, and wonder if it had somehow survived your attack and is slowly beginning to regenerate somewhere. You’ll have the goblins do a thorough sweep of the area when you get back, just to be sure.
“We can’t beat it in a fight, but we adventurers have our ways of getting past the beast.” He winks, then sighs. “Still, it would be undeniably risky. Which is why the kingdom is paying well to have the best adventurers on the job.”
Alexander pauses, then adds. “Really, really well.” He looks at you meaningfully.
“Ah.” You get his gist, and nod. “How well is well?”
“They have allocated a total bounty of ten thousand gold coins for the entire expedition. Right now there are about forty adventurers participating, so the total works out to about…”
“Two hundred and fifty gold coins per adventurer,” you finish.
“Yes. Since you know the area, and since you are quite skilled yourself, I was actually wondering if you would like to join the expedition!” Alexander makes his offer at last.
“It’s tempting… but wouldn’t an extra person decrease the cut that each member gets? Would they be fine with it?”
“We’re all professionals here. The priority is to stay alive. Money is good, but only if you live to spend it. I think that having you around would make the odds much better for the team-“
“Trying to get more ruffians for your little guild, eh, Alexander?” interrupts a nasally-sounding man. From his expensive dress, he is clearly a noble, though his suit is ill-fitting, tailored for someone rather more fit than the person currently wearing it. “And this must be the hero that helped His Highness in that little bumpkin village?”
“Count Algonquin,” nods Alexander, with little respect whatsoever in his greeting. He does not appear to have any patience for this noble. “Do you have business with me?”
“No, I have business with this man.” He jabs a finger at you rudely. “Don’t you think you’ve taken up enough of his time? Scurry along now.”
Alexander does not move, folding his arms resolutely as he towers over the spindly noble. “I stand where I want, my lord Count.”
“H-Hm. Well, as you wish. I would not want to force the matter. Now…” Turning to you, he raises his head even further, as if attempting to look down on you from above his nose. Of course, your rather tall hat and wide brim makes that quite difficult for him. “I am Count Nostrus Algonquin. Trider Mu… Muhchacraken, or whatever your strange foreign name is… I heard you acquitted yourself admirably, helping out Prince Farland. Of course, it seems to have somehow been parlayed into a favour, getting yourself invited to this banquet… but anyway, I was just interested in how strong Farland’s new underling is,” he blathers.
You suddenly notice that the hall has gone quiet, focusing on both you and this Nostrus. Was it arranged beforehand? Certainly, both the Crown Prince and Duke Brescia have their eye on you at the moment. Farland is standing off to one side with his sister, frowning heavily.
“To that end, I propose a bit of traditional entertainment for our guests here,” Nostrus says, his voice rising in both volume and pitch. “Why not let Sir Trider amaze us with a demonstration of his skill in battle? I have heard that he is a wizard, so perhaps a bit of a brouhaha with a fellow caster would be a fine display of fireworks for the evening. What do you all say?”
The nobles clap in an approving manner and murmur amongst themselves excitedly. You glance at Farland, who shakes his head. It looks like he does not want you to get involved.
“Come now, Sir Trider. Surely the Hero of Erise is not too much of a coward to have a little show for our pleasure? I even have a willing volunteer, the rising star of the Royal Caster Society, Lord Elmont!” He raises his hand towards a young, good-looking man in purple robes. Flushing with embarrassment, he gives the crowd a sheepish, charming smile as they cheer for him.
“Elmont, eh? They’ve got it out for you, Trider,” mutters Alexander. “In Methuss, his skill in magic is reputed to be second only to old Argius himself, and he’s a good fifty years younger too, with more mana reserves than even what the old man has managed to accumulate. No offense, but I don’t rate your chances of victory very highly. Elmont is good.”
“You mean he’s like the Belbro of magic?” you suggest.
“Eh, something like that. Of course, it’s a pretty silly comparison to make when we have the most powerful mage in the world standing right there,” he whispers. Following his gaze, you see that he is referring to the Byarlantians’ Archmage, who is putting on an unconcerned mask of disinterest – though you suspect he is keenly following the proceedings.
“Well? What do you say?” Nostrus challenges you again.
***
If he is so keen on pressing the issue, you should strongly entertain the idea of following through with it. It might even be possible to sucker him into a wager should you play your cards right...
A. “Challenge accepted.” You are not sure how strong Elmont is – he could be stronger than you, or weaker – but this would be a good opportunity to find out. Besides, you can decide whether to throw the match later on anyway.
B. “Honestly, I’d rather have Argius instead. He’s Elmont’s boss, right?” You’d rather take on the head of the Royal Caster Society than some young upstart, regardless of his strength. It would quickly answer the question of who could be top dog in the society, if you are so inclined.
C. “Let’s make this an international performance to cater to our foreign guests, Count Nostrus. Would Archmage Julius care to be our partner instead?” You challenge the Grand Imperial Archmage of the Byarlant Empire instead, ensuring a diplomatic faux pas and also the chance for you to test the strength of the most powerful mage in this world.
D. “I’m afraid that magic is actually not my strong suit, despite the rumours. Though I know magic, my true strength lies in swordplay. Perhaps a match with Knight-Commander Belbro would be more entertaining for all of you?” Pretending to be a swordsman would definitely throw them off at this point and help disguise the true extent of your magical abilities.
E. You try to challenge someone else, although they might not accept. (Suggest an opponent)
***
1. Surprising everyone, you send Arlin out to fight instead. You'll aid him quietly with magic from the sidelines.
2. You take on the challenge yourself.
***
F. “I’m afraid that my magic cannot be used frivolously. I am sorry, but I must decline.” You refuse to fight, allowing them to tar you with the mantle of coward. That is fine: you do not care what these rabble think of you anyway.