[Shrubley, the Monster Adventurer] Chapter 97 – Existential Dread

Count Haalften stared out into the bleak night. Rain lashed the windowpanes as he put a hand gently onto the glass, splaying his fingertips. He looked forlornly for his love.

Thunder rumbled, then crackled in the distance.

“My precious wife,” he whispered miserably. “That monster hero has stolen you away from me. But I will get you back.”

The rain began to slacken, the somber mood spoiled as the rain gave way to a beautifully clear night sky.

“Igor!” he shouted. “More rain! I must have my dramatic atmosphere!”

“Yeth, Maaarthter!” Igor called back from somewhere in the attic.

“Nothing ever seems to work right when she’s not here,” the Count muttered darkly to himself. “Even the weather machine goes on the fritz.”

A vampyr belonged in one’s lair. It was unnatural to go against the ways of tradition, never mind that those traditions allowed those serpentii in. The Count came up with any number of feverish reasons for why his woes were justified. It fueled his cold determination to set things right.

“As you say, Maaarthter,” Igor replied directly behind him. “The Counteth ith sorely mithed! Even the manor feels it.”

The Count pulled his hand away and sighed. The moment was gone. The mood ruined. “Thank you for trying to cheer me up all the same, Igor. And must I say, your lump is looking especially rumpled today.”

“Thank you, Marthter! Tho kind of you to thay!” Igor had missed the old Count. He was a proper vampyr. He hated that he had not seen through the Snake Lord’s disguise sooner.

Since when would the real Count Haalften try to cure his vampyrism? Impossible. Who in their right mind would give up that dark immortality? Certainly not a vampyr.

The Count took another forlorn look through the window. “Pack my things, Igor. I wish to take a trip.”

Igor bowed appropriately. “Thall I fetch your–”

“No need, Igor, no need. I will require your personal attendance on this little trip.” He turned back to the window now that the rain was furiously drumming against the windows again. Lightning stabbed at the darkened sky. “Ah, this is a proper sendoff. You’ve outdone yourself, Igor.”

The six-fingered man wrung his hands with pleasure.

The Count placed his hand against the glass again, looking sad and gloomy. “I will have you back, my Countess. Just you see. They’ll all see.”

There was a pregnant pause, where the Count clearly expected an appropriate lighting strike and roll of thunder to punctuate his declaration.

Igor fidgeted a little. “Thall I…?” This obsession was starting to make the servant uncomfortable, but Igor hastily brushed it aside in favor of just being pleased to have his old master back.

“Yes, yes! Damn this weather machine. No sense of timing!” He twirled around, unsurprised to see Igor already gone. The servant would be about his business already making ready the coach and the spectral steeds.

***

“Get off him, you foul cur!” one of the guards screamed.

“Don’t you dare raise a hand against him! Look at what he’s doing!” Cal tried to tell the guards who were looking for any excuse to skewer the lot of them. Not many were particularly willing to listen to an undead skeleton, even if he was dressed in wizardly robes and was an especially short creature.

“Sure doesn’t look good, Mistress,” Sose whispered to Miranda.

“Pyuu…?” Smudge asked.

“Is healing!” Slyrox said. “Shrubley is healing!”

The koblin, jumping up and down, managed to finally get people’s attention long enough for them to actually look at the healing pulse of Light mana surrounding Shrubley’s Copper aura.

You could fake a lot of things with magic, but the color of an essence was nigh impossible. Everybody could see the White bloom of Light mana around Shrubley and the downed Captain.

Shrubley drained his mana to bring the man back from the brink of death.

Slowly but surely, the Captain improved. The waxen, listless look was wiped away, replaced by a clear and sharp gaze.

Just as the Captain regained consciousness, several of the guards began to collapse or sag. People gasped and drew back, afraid something more was happening. The bandits were stunned into silence.

Shrubley looked up with alarm.

“They are poisoned!” Shrubley said. “Something is doing this to them!”

“Need muchly mana?” Slyrox asked with alacrity. She rummaged around in her backpack, then quickly offered him a couple [Spiritgems] collected from Smudge during the course of their travels. Much like [Mana Potions], [Spiritgems] rapidly recovered a large sum of MP.

“As much as you can spare, please.”

Shrubley whisked about, his Copper aura fueling his healing powers to fight the sudden malady going around. The Captain muttered something but was too weak to do much else as Shrubley went from person to person, using [Recovery] to heal their wounds.

[Recovery (Light)]

Cost: Moderate Mana

Cooldown: 10 seconds

Duration: 60 seconds

All things strive.

Imprint: Once you touch a wounded creature, you are able to tell the severity of their wounds and apply a non-stacking instance of healing magic that will gradually restore all damage equally.

He had no idea what was causing the problem, but a few were much worse off, like the Captain. Those, he added [Enlightenment] to the mix to bolster their resolve.

[Enlightenment (Sage Knight)]

Cost: Low mana

Cooldown: 30 seconds

Elevate your mind.

Imprint: Optimize the efficacy of any spell or ability to its maximum.

By the time it was all over, Shrubley’s mana was bone dry, and the bandits were trying to whip the crowd into a frenzy.

“See, he poisoned them all! Look at what happened as soon as he got here. They’re demons, one and all! You have to believe us!”

Unfortunately for them, the sudden illness of a dozen guards had attracted the attention of the Adventurers Guild, who came out to see what was going on.

Unlike the guards, they were aware of Shrubley’s Grade and status within the Guild. They instantly knew that his badge was real, and as adventurers they understood the telltale signs of the rare White mana that often accompanied healing magicks.

“Clear the area!” one of the Iron Rankers said. He heaved a large shield off his back and set the thing onto the ground, cracking a few cobbles in the process. “Guild business!”

A few younger adventurers made their way in once the space was cleared. They took away the bandits, still protesting, and then returned to help with the wounded guardsmen and the Captain.

“My oh my, Sel did tell me you were one to attract attention, but never would I have thought that you would do so in my sleepy little town,” said a handsome middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair.

He wore the symbols of office that Shrubley recognized from Sel.

This must be the Guild Leader of Talvar!

“I apologize for not rising to greet you, Guild Leader,” Shrubley told the man. The combined use of his Sage Knight abilities, his Copper aura, and extended healing drained him thoroughly.

The effort had been well worth it. With his intervention, not a single person died. Shrubley didn’t know what was going on in the town, but these people had indeed been poisoned.

How or why, he didn’t know.

“Don’t trouble yourself, son.” He came forward and dropped into a low squat beside Shrubley. “My name is Hammar. You’re a lot faster than most newly inducted members. Most don’t recognize these knots,” he said, carelessly flicking the golden knots of rank on his shoulders. “Now that we’ve got our introductions out of the way: E-Grade Shrubley, mind telling me what’s going on here?”

“I… do not know sir,” Shrubley admitted. “The Captain was agitated, but he seemed otherwise fine. I am not a very talented healer, but I was able to ascertain that something was wrong. My father taught me some of the healing arts and how to recognize potentially life-threatening symptoms in humans. He was showing signs of what I believe to be a fatal stroke, sir.”

Hammar looked over to the recumbent form of the Captain. “He is up there in years, but he is as spry as the day I joined the Guild. I would be quite surprised to hear that ordinarily, only…”

“Only what?” Cal asked, his bashfulness forgotten momentarily.

Hammar’s steely gray eyes settled on the skeleton, and Cal felt compelled to add, “Sir!” onto the end.

“This is not the first unexplained death or illness in Talvar.” He stood up, straightened his silver-gray coat, and motioned to a few adventurers. “See to it that the guards are taken to the infirmary. Keep a watch on them. Erlin, Randil, Lessi, take positions up by the gates for the night.”

A few adventurers groaned at the new assignments, but nobody complained beyond that. They did what they were told, while the Guild Leader personally took the body of the Captain back to the Adventurers Guild with Shrubley’s party in tow.

It wasn’t exactly an order, but it was phrased so closely to one that Shrubley assumed Hammar was being polite for their sakes. If they had refused, he could have commanded them.

No matter what, it was better to be invited by the Guild than escorted away by the Watch.

A familiar alchemist lingered at the edge of the crowd, a cauldron on her back and a cowl hiding her face. Her eyes went wide at what she saw, and she slunk away into the alley, muttering to herself.

“No, no, no, not again! Why does he always show up wherever I go? I just want to get away. What’s wrong with that?”

Konko didn’t intend to ever see Shrubley and his little ragtag group again, and yet it happened all the same. Heart hammering with a surge of panic, she wondered just how far she’d have to go to escape her existential torments.

With her luck, Shrubley would remember that she was an alchemist and a rather nasty one at that by his reckoning. She might be blamed for the poisoning, but if she tried to leave the town now…

She shook her head. It would look so much worse. So, she resolved to shadow the group, using the alleys and back ways. She would approach Lord Hammar herself to explain and hopefully head off any potential problems.

I thought it was safe here!

Konko could barely disguise her terror when the noble vampyr’s ruby gaze fell upon her. Worse, that dark furred ferret poked his head out of the large woman’s hood to stare at Konko too.

Hello stealth proficiency, do your friggin’ job!

It was too much when the ferret-like creature pointed a paw at his eyes, and then at her, as if to directly state, “I’m watching you, criminal scum!”

Freaked out, Konko ducked into a darker alley, pressed her back to the battered wooden wall and waited. Her body was covered in scratches and bites from monsters she had tried to reason with instead of fighting out of hand.

While her power had gone up considerably after the battle of Taamra, she was still far away from a Copper. All she wanted was a safe place to practice her Alchemy.

I’ll need to find somewhere else, she realized dejectedly. Which meant another week of traveling through dangerous places and monsters that she could not look in the eye without making absolutely sure they were feral first.

After counting to 30, Konko decided it was safe and began to creep back up toward the hill where the Guild headquarters was stationed. She didn’t see the vampyr or Shrubley again, and for that she was glad.

Once upon a time Talvar was a small lord’s holding with a manor on a hill and fields surrounding it. Over the years, as the Empire continued its expansion, it grew to become something more.

But, as the old Talvar saying went, all roads lead to the manor, and no matter which path Konko took, she knew she would eventually reach the manor and its much larger neighbor, the Adventurers Guild.

Unlike most lords, the ruler of Talvar did not seem to mind how the Guild’s base of operations towered over his ancient estates. It must not hurt that Lord Hammar of Talvar was also the Guild Leader of this branch, but Konko reminded herself that she would need to carefully watch her words.

A noble was unlikely to take the side of a monster, but Shrubley vastly outranked her, and even if the Guild Leader did not like it, Shrubley’s words would weigh heavier than Konko’s.

Or I could just go, she thought to herself as she opened the grand double doors to the Guild’s =ound floor.