[Shrubley, the Monster Adventurer] Chapter 128 – Majora-ly Strange II

Shrubley reached into the golden light spilling out of his bushy body and pulled out his [Magical Map]. So many details had been filled in during their travels, charting all the way up to this peculiar town with a very obvious specialization in clocks.

With a start, Shrubley saw that the town wasn’t on the map.

That does not seem right, Shrubley thought. But he looked up and could not deny his eyes. The town was right there. It was all around him.

Surely there was something wrong with the map.

Even Smudge, who was not tricked by illusions, didn’t voice any concerns. He giggled at the funny man with the top hat who danced and greeted them at the entrance of the town square.

That the town lacked walls didn’t seem to be a problem for Shrubley. Walls were a unique human construction–one almost all core races shared–but they were not natural.

Animals did not define their habitats with berms of mud and stone. Trees did not erect hedge rows to let people know this was their territory.

In Shrubley’s mind, there was no cause for concern over the lack of a wall in what would very obviously be a dangerous territory up in the mountains.

Nobody screamed at the monsters. They were treated like normal people, which further made Shrubley at ease while the Countess’ tension grew.

“I take it you’re looking for some lodgings, yes?” the top hat man asked.

Shrubley stepped forward. “Yes, we would like one place to stay, please.”

“Very good, very good indeed kind sir!” the man trilled. “We have three inns in glorious Clocktown. You may have your pick!”

Miranda looked him up and down. “Yes, but where are they?”

“At 9, 12, and 3 o’clock!” he chirped while managing to caper about like a fool.

Shrubley frowned. “I do not understand.”

“It’s a clock reference,” Cal said. He pointed at the tower at the center of town, a massive thing of dark stone and wood with an even larger clock near its peak. The one they could see well before they made it to the town. “I’m assuming we use the clock tower as a reference point?” Cal asked the top hat man.

“Yes, indeed!”

“Then that would mean to the left, straight, and to the right,” Cal told Shrubley. “See the hands on the clock?”

Shrubley nodded, catching on a little slow. “Why do you not use cardinal directions?” he asked. To Shrubley, those were the only directions that mattered. Nothing else came close to them.

They were natural.

“Because this is Clocktown, my lad! We specialize in clocks, not compasses.” He leaned in close, putting a hand to the side of his mouth to share a secret. “That would be Compasstown, our greatest rivals!”

Shrubley’s eyes lit up. “Comp-ass-town? Where is that?”

“Nowhere!” the man trilled. “It doesn’t exist, just like this place!”

“But… it is clearly here,” Konko said.

“That it is, my lass, that it is!”

Miranda stepped forward. “Where is your Adventurers Guild?”

“No Guild here, madam, no Guild needed, no Guild wanted!” He leaned forward, hands on his hips. The band around his top hat sparkled in the lamplight. “Do you know how much a Guild charges for residency? And did you know they often attract monsters to the town they are stationed in? No, thank you! We here in Clocktown are perfectly safe, see? No walls! No monsters–saving yourselves, of course–and no troubles!”

Miranda was getting a bad feeling, but she couldn’t figure out what was wrong other than an overall sense of weirdness. Before she could ask another question, the man in the top hat tap danced away around the arch.

When the group caught up to him, he was gone. Nowhere to be seen.

People milled about on the paved streets. There seemed to be a festival being set up in a few days by the look of things. Shrubley asked about it, but Miranda shrugged. “I haven’t heard of any festival that celebrates clocks, Shrubley.”

Konko chewed her lower lip in thought, but kept her counsel.

Smudge, however, was thoroughly enjoying the sights and smells of the new town that didn’t immediately turn on him and his friends. These people were odd, yes, but they were nice, and that made up for a lot of oddities to the small pink slime in the frilly sackcloth dress.

He experimentally twirled near a market stall being constructed. One of the laborers putting it up looked over and laughed, tossing Smudge a small strangely shaped brass coin.

“Pyuu!” Smudge said in thanks. He bounced away, looking this way and that with the rest of his party.

He had been curious at first, only minutely concerned because the Countess looked out of sorts and Shrubley felt something was off.

When nothing reared its ugly head to harm them, Smudge decided to trust what he saw. Because he was [Dumb].

[Dumb]: Lacking a brain, you’re not the brightest bulb in the sock drawer, but because of your lack of brain you cannot be ensorcelled by mind-bending magic.

It had worked out exceedingly well in the mirror realm. An illusion that had trapped countless powerful serpentii did not work on Smudge. Because of that trait, Smudge was impervious to any sort of illusions that could bend other minds.

Sose sneezed loudly, drawing the attention of a nearby crowd. He could have done it in any other way, and it still would have worked. Oppas naturally attracted people.

“What a beautiful animal!” one young woman said in colorful clothing. “Are you going to be joining the festival?”

The oppa grumbled to himself, rubbing his muzzle excessively.

“What festival?” Shrubley asked.

“Well, the Clock Festival, of course! In just a short…” She trailed off, looking at the clock tower. It began to ring a deep, haunting tone that filled the space and made it impossible to hear the distant voices of the crowds talking and moving around.

“Well, look at that!” somebody said when the ringing of the clock tower ceased. “Seems the Clock Festival is only 72 hours away!”

Sose stared at the woman, deeply troubled. His fur fluffed up in agitation. He twisted his head this way and that. “Hasn’t this…” he began quietly. “Happened in a grim fable? No, that can’t be right.”

The crowd found the revelation that the small animal could talk to be even more entertaining.

Shrubley took out his hand and began counting.

“That’s 3 days,” the Countess said. “Why not just say 3 days?”

“Oh, that’s because we don’t count days here, silly!” the woman said with a playful smile.

Another young man, also wearing very colorful clothes, stepped up. “Ah, travelers, eh? Don’t worry Ethel, I’ll take care of this.” He cleared his throat. “Like you fine folk, I used to be a dayliever too.”

“A what?” Cal asked.

“A believer in days, weeks, that sort of nonsense. Slicing up the calendar into larger and larger chunks, it just doesn’t work! Everything works if you simply put it to the clock. Two days? Why 2? Why not 48 hours? You don’t need time any larger than an hour, you can’t keep track of days. You have to sleep at some point, don’t you?”

Nobody seemed to quite know what to say to that, and the young man marched on ahead, clearly assuming they agreed with him. “That’s why we have our own way of life here in Clocktown. A better way. You see any evil monsters lurking about?”

Shrubley shook his leafy head.

“Exactly! No walls either, you’ll notice. No need! Time is all we need to keep the monsters at bay, and that’s why we celebrate it. So, take a load off, come visit the Milk Bar–”

“THE WHAT?!” Cal shrieked.

“You have got to be kidding,” the Countess muttered.

The young man was slightly taken aback. “The… Milk Bar. It’s a bar. We serve milk there. You look like you’d know a lot about milk. Maybe you’d like to sample some of our special reserve? I work there as a sommelier. I can get you a table at the milk tasting tomorrow night if you like?”

“S-s-special reserve?” Cal stammered out. “Milk tasting? I would love nothing more!”

“Say no more, my young skele!” He reached into his vest pocket, a riot of reds and golds, and pulled a silvery ticket. “Here you are, one seating for the milk tasting tomorrow night. The Milk Bar is located just 3:45 from here! Can’t miss it.”

“Methinks carpet-shark is not feeling well,” Slyrox whispered to Shrubley and Smudge. Sose was scurrying down the inside of the Countess’ sleeve, hiding. Every time Miranda tried to catch him, he appeared somewhere else in her clothing.

Cal looked at the ticket as if it was the most precious thing in the world. “Thank you, mister…?”

“Just call me Horace!” He took a bow, jumped and clicked his heels, then scampered off into the crowds.

A young woman smiled after him. She looked back at the group. “You look tired, long day?”

Slyrox nodded. “Muchly.”

“Why don’t you head on over to the Time’s End, then? It’s a very cozy little inn, 12 o’clock. Tell them Aurora sent you and they’ll help you out.” She leaned in conspiratorially, which seemed to be a thing with these people. “The owner is my sister. She owes me a favor, so you don’t need to worry about paying for the first night!”

That got Slyrox’s attention, who was very attached to her money and was not a fan of sleeping in the [Autotent]. In fact, nobody was eager to sleep in the tent again, but after what the Countess said about her finances, they didn’t have much hope they could afford an inn.

Not for all of them, in any case.

“We should go to this Time’s End inn,” Shrubley said. “We would save money.”

Slyrox nodded enthusiastically. “What does the potion say?”

Konko pulled out the potion bottle and stared at it. The swirls were dancing madly all around like they were being spun up in a hurricane. She shrugged.

“That doesn’t seem good,” Cal said.

Konko shook her head and put it away. “The Countess did say that once we entered the Outer Ring, we might need to remake the potion. This was calibrated for the borderlands. The very edges of the Empire where the mana density is weakest. It’s much stronger here. It probably gets confused.”

“We will remake it tomorrow,” Miranda said, her ruby red gaze flickering back and forth looking for… something. She didn’t know what it was, but she would know it when she saw it.

“We’re really staying here?” Sose asked from somewhere around Miranda’s left pant leg. “This is actually happening?”

The Countess made another grab for him. “Why are you being so difficult, Sose!?”

The oppa squealed, seeming to instantly disappear and reappear right inside her boot. “This place… it makes me sneeze!”

“You are taking this disreputable thing too far,” Miranda hissed.

True to his word, he sneezed loudly inside her boot.

The Countess stared at the boot, which seemed to expand comically for a moment before making a series of… inelegant noises as the air leaked from the leather.

“Hee hee, poots!” Smudge said, mimicking the noise.

Even Shrubley laughed while Slyrox giggled.

Miranda’s eyebrow twitched. “You want to stay in my boot, Sose? Fine. Stay. We, meanwhile, will be staying in Clocktown. Maybe we’ll even stay for some time. Maybe we’ll stay for the whole 72 hours.”

Sose squealed at that. “Oh yeah? Well, it is nicer in here, mistress! Cool. A little damp. Considerably damper now, though. You should probably do something about that.”

Grumbling the whole way, Miranda marched off down the wide town square, circled around the massive clock tower, and made her way through the pleasantly straight streets until she reached the inn.

True to Aurora’s word, mentioning her name to the innkeeper, Chrona, awarded them a free suite for the night. With the key in hand, Miranda led them up to the room, which consisted of the entire top floor of the surprisingly spacious 5-story establishment.

Once inside, they found comfortable lodgings and plenty of room to bed down wherever they chose. The windows provided an excellent view of the town, which seemed to bustle deep into the night.

It didn’t seem right to the Countess, but she was tired and drained from the day’s travels and without another potion, or Dungeonley showing up to tell Shrubley where to look, they might as well get some rest.