The Trierport branch of the Adventurer's Guild was even more slovenly than I imagined.
Within a common room intricately modelled after the finest of rundown bars, I wrinkled my nose at the sheer lack of any morals on display.
Truly, the void of work ethics was spectacular in its own right. Given my impeccably low standards of these louts, I could only begrudgingly acknowledge the ability to dip below even my non-existent expectations.
Everywhere I cast my gaze, I saw layabouts competing to see who could shame their forebears the furthest. At the nearest table, two men were using their derrières in a contest of strength. By the stewing cauldron emitting aromas of rosemary and shoe polish, a woman ignored the invention of cutlery to slurp directly from the pot. In the corner, a large group was taking it in turns to belly slide across a row of wooden kegs, somehow ushering out the last drips of alcohol from the taps.
A close competition. And yet a winner still climbed atop the rabble like the most colourfully dressed clown in a circus.
It was the long queue of commoners.
All of them were today’s winners. Without exception.
Indeed, their willingness to line from door to counter despite the accumulated gathering of the world’s supply of jesters beside them was proof of their foolishness. Despite the alarming lack of professionalism before their eyes, they still placed their crowns and their faith in these walking sponges of my kingdom’s air.
Sponges who were content to make merry while the town they plagued was at the mercy of ruffians only slightly worse than themselves.
“You. Hoodlums,” I said to the nearest pair of deadbeats. “Do you not see the queue of the naive and the desperate hoping to lure you from your lives of sordidness?”
The adventurers abruptly paused, the liquid in their steins swishing over their hands. They looked between themselves.
Then, one pointed to himself with a pinky.
“Me?”
“Whoever. Explain to me in three words or fewer why you languish while the town’s merchant class empties their purses beside you. Are you and your cohorts not aware of the pirate armada crippling the very steps of the town you drink idly in?”
The man glanced at the queue to the reception desk, his blinking eyes moving slower than the line.
And then, he gave a shrug.
“Pirates are rough,” he answered.
I peeled away slightly, regretting permitting even three words. The stench of … whatever these hoodlums drank was worse than the waft of general disappointment they emitted.
“The nature of the foe is irrelevant. If you can ignore bodily limits on alcohol consumption, then you can ignore whatever threat the pirates use to instil fear.”
The adventurer started counting his reply with his fingers, despite them also holding his stein. His other hand busily scratched his back. A troll in human form.
Eventually, he gave up. An act to symbolise his forthcoming answer.
“Hey, I’m just an F-rank adventurer. Most of us are. Nothing we can do.”
“Incorrect. If enough of you swim out to meet the pirates, then the clog of bodies buoyed by the dense mass of so much disappointment should be enough to resist any incursion onto these shores. But no matter, I expected nothing less.”
Both adventurers’ mouths opened wordlessly. Undoubtedly, the weight of so much truth spilled before them was a harsher attack than any they’d experienced over their long years of rescuing lost cats.
Fortunately, I needed no response.
Instead, I swept past the ogling pair, then cut a path through the queue to reach the wall of commissions. Disgruntled expressions and treasonous huffs met my intrusion until the merchants saw which notice I stood before.
There, amongst a litany of requests to search for childishly named tabbys, shorthairs and bobtails, was the only notice to bear a reward of crowns worthy of a smidgeon of my time.
(Updated) Piracy Concerns
Following consultation between the Trierport Maritime Commission and the Trierport Garrison, it has been agreed by Lady Teresa Malbeaux that due to safety concerns over the increasing belligerence of the pirate fleet and continuing lack of dialogue with its leadership, access to Trierport’s waters by vessels registered to the Kingdom of Tirea is prohibited until further notice. All docking fees are waived for the duration of the emergency stipulation.
All attempts are being made to reopen access as a matter of urgency. Any sightings of pirates on land is to be reported to the Trierport Garrison. A public fund is being gathered at the Trierport Adventurer’s Guild as remuneration for immediate removal of the pirate presence.
A+ rank, 127,892gc (updated 47th dawn, springtide)
I plucked the notice from the wall.
Immediately, the raucousness of the guild hall fell into a deafening silence.
The merrymaking of the yobs and the murmuring puzzlement from the merchants ceased to be as I made my way past the queue. Those lining for the reception desk provided plenty of space as I stopped before the receptionist.
Then, I slapped the notice down, ready for the gasp of shock from the staff member.
The woman glanced down, then smiled at me.
“Greetings! Welcome to the Trierport branch of the Adventurer’s Guild. I see you’ve removed a notice from the wall. That isn’t necessary. If you have any concerns over the details of a commission, then we’re able to enact changes from here.”
I scrunched up the notice ever so slightly.
“I have a significant amount of concerns, actually. The greatest of which is why the gold reward isn’t currently being prepared.”
“Excuse me?”
I raised my hand to my lips and smiled.
“Ohhohoho … rejoice, smiling purveyor of paperwork #3. The people of this town have called, and I have answered. I shall remove the pirate threat endangering Trierport’s shores!”
Silence.
Silence and stillness.
And then–
“Oooooooooooooooooooooh!!!!!!”
“It’s … It’s happening!! Someone’s come to save us!!”
“Finally! After all this time! My livelihood has almost been destroyed!”
“M-More crowns! Put down more crowns! Before she changes her mind!”
“Uuuuu … I’m going to cry … I can’t believe it … we’ll be free of those pirates at last!”
My eyes widened as an overwhelming cacophony filled my ears, rattling the cheap floorboards and reverberating throughout my very body.
In moments, what were declarations of glee became indecipherable cheers intermingled with tears of joy. A semi-circle of bodies rushed for me, hands reaching out like a mob of peasants hoping to glean a hint of the regalness from my royal stature. Faces were alight with unabashed relief. Shadows beneath eyes and wrinkled skin alike vanished like dew beneath a summer afternoon.
Only the spreading out of Coppelia’s arms prevented the peasant mob from reaching me as my diligent handmaiden threw herself in harm’s way to ensure my dignity. A serious frown dented her usually cheerful face as she made it abundantly clear no unwashed hands would pass through her stoic defence.
C-Coppelia!
I was touched!
She was … She was so loyal!
“All right, all right! Back up, all of you! Form a queue! 1 silver crown per second for the meet and greet! 10 silver crowns a handshake! Back up, all of you! Exact amounts only! No change!”
My jaw dropped as my amazement promptly vanished.
Instead … I was appalled!
10 silver crowns to touch my hand?!
That was … That was robbery! To me! A handshake with a princess couldn’t be valued in coins … and if it could, it certainly wouldn’t be for anything less than 10,000 gold crowns!
It was an insult to my status … and as soon as the applause and fervent cheers of happiness stopped ringing out, I’d thoroughly chastise her for not fleecing these commoners for more! … However long that took!
Indeed, the roaring yells simply increased! And so instead of feeling ire, I found myself stunned by the vocalness of the delight being directed at me!
This was a new experience!
Usually, commoners only quailed in fear while stuttering their apologies and their loyalty! And sometimes, they stuttered things which I never even heard, because my mother’s maids always covered my ears, having expertly read the lips before the words even came out!
For a moment, I found myself too stunned to react.
Such shouts of enthusiasm … for me … ! Nobody ever cheered in such a manner without the threat of my displeasure goading them on … !
Of course, this was merely a premonition of the future! A day in the life of Juliette Contzen, 3rd Princess of the Kingdom of Tirea, when I eventually … very eventually … opted to pursue more public duties after I’d finished my studies of common literature!
That’s why … it would be uncouth of me to react in a manner suggesting my surprise!
No, I would display the dignity of my station! I wouldn’t smile just because I was finally receiving the looks of adoration I always deserved! No, no, no, not at all. The hollering of the masses? Why, that was as common to me as the flowering of my spring petunias!
Indeed, I wouldn’t react! Not at all!
I would turn to face the receptionist and declare my intent once more, before modestly leaving the guild hall to stunned reverence at my quiet determination.
Thus, I swept around.
And then continued sweeping around, until I was faced with the crowd once more.
“Oho … ohoho … ohhohohohohohohohoho! That is correct! Feast your dour eyes upon my angelic light and bathe in my generosity! You stricken masses of little worth and littler hygiene, unfurl your purses and offer the tinkling serenade of your meagre wealth into my troll’s pouch, for I am the object of your gratitude!”
“Wooooooooooooo!! I don’t know what she’s saying, but she sounds so confident!!”
With the cheers crashing like waves into my ears, I flicked my hair and beautifully turned to the receptionist once more.
Properly, this time.
“I’ll require a ship,” I said simply, ignoring the very obvious levelling of the cheering at my statement. “And information. Namely, which of the pirate ships need removing first.”
The receptionist nodded, her professional smile never wavering despite the bedlam.
“Of course. May I have your guild ring?”
Ugh.
Even in the midst of my presence burning her irises with angelic light, her shadow of bureaucracy still fought to smother me.
“Thank you,” said the receptionist as I duly dropped the copper ring into her palm. “... [Identify].”
A faint glow lit up between the gaps of her fingers. A few moments later, she offered the ring back to me.
“Juliette. A D-rank adventurer. Your registered branch is Reitzlake. You’ve completed one commission with us. Welcome again to Trierport. As I note your intention to remove the pirate threat, I’m obligated to provide warning that the commission significantly exceeds your rank and will likely result in grievous harm or sudden death to your person.”
Suddenly–
The din of silence echoed around me once again.
“Oh … a D-rank? What a waste of time.”
“Tch. And I got my hopes up too …”
“Seriously, what do D-ranks think they can do on their own? If only the Golden Hogs were still around …”
A wave of backs turned to me.
In moments, all I heard were dissatisfied mumbles, and a chorus of feet as my adoring masses all shuffled away.
“Wait … Why is everyone … I am not done laughing … !”
I looked on in shock as a dismal atmosphere filled up the common room.
Suddenly, even the adventurers had sat down, no longer tussling with their derrières or belly sliding across kegs. A murmur filled the air, one of despondency and failed hopes.
Only Coppelia was in high spirits as she dealt with a semi-circle of her own.
“Nope! No refunds! You know the drill. I guaranteed nothing. If you have a problem, speak to my manager in Ouzelia.”
I pursed my lips.
O-Ohoho … ho … v-very well! So the common masses sought to cast doubt on my overwhelming natural talent! No matter!
After all, it wasn’t their yells in my ears I wished, but merely their coins! And I’d have it in full!
My head held high, I confidently faced the receptionist.
“A ship and information,” I reiterated, not at all slightly embarrassed or internally humiliated.
“I’ll provide what I have on file. Regrettably, however, the Adventurer’s Guild possesses no ships.”
“Excuse me?”
“The Adventurer’s Guild does not use or provide ships. We have no service which requires it. But we do facilitate clients who do.”
I blinked, then glanced behind me.
Some of the merchants had begun to find their places in the queue again. None of them met my eyes, despite all of them either knowing a captain or being one themselves.
However, just as I began considering my emergency plan to send Apple to eat the pirate fleet–
“... A D-rank adventurer, huh? I’d say you lot were getting pluckier, but that’d be a lie. None of your associates cared to look at that commission, much less take it down.”
I turned around as a large figure loomed over me.
A squished nose. Gaunt eyes. Black expression. A stomach which had its own shadow.
And also a plumed tricorne.
Well, now. Here was a rarity.
An ogre in the Kingdom of Tirea.
And one with the fashion sense to wear a tricorne.
Most settled with whatever they had on hand. Such as the blooded rags of their enemies. Or a tea towel. As it was, the only red was the crimson of his waistcoat, tailored from velvet and touched up with golden embroidery. I looked for a faulty seam and could not find any.
“A grave insult,” I replied to the ogre. “I do not count any of the layabouts you see around you as associates in any capacity. I barely count them as sentient.”
The ogre chuckled. Behind him, a pair of other ogres chuckled. Behind them, another pair. All of them wore the trappings of sailors, complete with the smell of the sea.
It said something about the overwhelming aura of disappointment the adventurers in this common room displayed that their slovenly antics overshadowed the presence of a crew of ogres, all of whom doubled the waist size of the largest man here.
“An understandable notion. I’ve met finer adventurers in my time. But I’ve also met worse.”
“Then you must have truly travelled to the worst alleyways of the world.”
“The worst alleyways. The worst bars. The worst cellars. For a wanderer of the sea, I seem to find myself in all the lowliest places on the land.”
The ogre dipped his head, partially raising his tricorne in the process.
“Captain Talrik of the Bloodskull Tribe. I believe I heard the saviour of Trierport required a ship?”
“You heard correctly.” I placed my hand atop my chest. “Juliette. And the one refusing all refunds is Coppelia, my future handmaiden.”
“A pleasure, ma’am. Might I inquire if you’re being quite serious about removing the pirate threat that’s causing a red blot on my bottom line?”
“Rest assured, captain, I’m always serious.”
The ogre nodded, his dark eyes examining me like a countryside baron on his first visit to the Royal Villa, wondering if our forks truly were inlaid with solid emeralds.
They were.
“Is that so? … And how do you, a D-rank adventurer with only one other by your side, intend to make true on your words?”
“Through whatever means possible.”
The ogres behind the captain started to chuckle. They quickly stopped when their leader didn’t.
Instead, the captain continued studying me, his dark eyes bearing into me as much as an anchor into the sandbed.
“There are more captains than rats in Trierport these days, but even if their feet are restless, you’ll find few are willing to move against the fleet upon the horizon. It is more than death which mariners fear. To lose one’s ship is to lose one’s soul. You shall see captains manning the bars of their favourite haunts before you’ll see them offering you a seat into a storm. And make no mistake, that is what you seek.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Then you’re mistaken. I do not head into the storm, captain, for I am its eye. And I intend to wash away the grime which pollutes the golden shores of this kingdom.”
The ogre nodded, but betrayed no expression.
“Fine words. But of those, I hear enough from my crew. And they know what I make of them. Are you willing to prove your worth before I entertain the, frankly, ludicrous notion of taking a D-rank human girl into the midst of certain peril?”
“That depends. Will it involve bringing duchies or sword saints to heel? Because I’ve just finished that, and I dread needing to write another lengthy letter so soon.”
The captain chuckled, apparently taking my very serious stipulation as a jest. His crew waited a moment before deciding it was safe to join in.
“Nothing quite so spectacular, I’m afraid. My first mate is missing, scoundrel that he is. If you can help me in finding his whereabouts, then I might consider a more detailed conversation.”
I frowned. That was hardly the guarantee I demanded.
But more than that, searching for a missing person sounded like a very … adventurer thing to do. And that was decidedly not me.
“My apologies, captain, but you’ll have to explain to me why any help is required. Surely, it cannot be difficult to locate an ogre in this predominantly human town?”
“I imagine so–if my first mate was an ogre, which he isn’t.”
“I see. A human, then?”
“No. Not a human.”
Suddenly, I became aware of all the notices on the wall behind me, and what a sizable portion of them entailed.
“A troll?” I asked hopefully.
“No.”
I pursed my lips.
“Captain Talrik of the Bloodskull Tribe … is your first mate a cat?”
The ogre before me nodded enthusiastically, before pointing at one of the notices I wasn’t going to read.
Ughhhhhhhhhh.
I felt my soul cry out in horror. But that was the extent of it.
After all, there was simply no way I was going to help look for a lost cat. That was ridiculous. I was a princess of the kingdom. Not some … some F-rank adventurer! I was above that grade now, in any case!
No. I wasn’t going to do it. I refused.
There was no scenario in which I would agree to this humiliation. I’d find another way. Another captain. Trierport was teeming with them. I simply had to make the right offer. The right demand. Doing so would be easy. More than easy, in fact.
Because what was I, if not a paragon of charm and diplomacy?
Indeed, I had no doubt in my mind!
I, Juliette Contzen, 3rd Princess to the Kingdom of Tirea, would absolutely not resort to searching for lost cats! …….
The Trierport branch of the Adventurer's Guild was even more slovenly than I imagined.
Within a common room intricately modelled after the finest of rundown bars, I wrinkled my nose at the sheer lack of any morals on display.
Truly, the void of work ethics was spectacular in its own right. Given my impeccably low standards of these louts, I could only begrudgingly acknowledge the ability to dip below even my non-existent expectations.
Everywhere I cast my gaze, I saw layabouts competing to see who could shame their forebears the furthest. At the nearest table, two men were using their derrières in a contest of strength. By the stewing cauldron emitting aromas of rosemary and shoe polish, a woman ignored the invention of cutlery to slurp directly from the pot. In the corner, a large group was taking it in turns to belly slide across a row of wooden kegs, somehow ushering out the last drips of alcohol from the taps.
A close competition. And yet a winner still climbed atop the rabble like the most colourfully dressed clown in a circus.
It was the long queue of commoners.
All of them were today’s winners. Without exception.
Indeed, their willingness to line from door to counter despite the accumulated gathering of the world’s supply of jesters beside them was proof of their foolishness. Despite the alarming lack of professionalism before their eyes, they still placed their crowns and their faith in these walking sponges of my kingdom’s air.
Sponges who were content to make merry while the town they plagued was at the mercy of ruffians only slightly worse than themselves.
“You. Hoodlums,” I said to the nearest pair of deadbeats. “Do you not see the queue of the naive and the desperate hoping to lure you from your lives of sordidness?”
The adventurers abruptly paused, the liquid in their steins swishing over their hands. They looked between themselves.
Then, one pointed to himself with a pinky.
“Me?”
“Whoever. Explain to me in three words or fewer why you languish while the town’s merchant class empties their purses beside you. Are you and your cohorts not aware of the pirate armada crippling the very steps of the town you drink idly in?”
The man glanced at the queue to the reception desk, his blinking eyes moving slower than the line.
And then, he gave a shrug.
“Pirates are rough,” he answered.
I peeled away slightly, regretting permitting even three words. The stench of … whatever these hoodlums drank was worse than the waft of general disappointment they emitted.
“The nature of the foe is irrelevant. If you can ignore bodily limits on alcohol consumption, then you can ignore whatever threat the pirates use to instil fear.”
The adventurer started counting his reply with his fingers, despite them also holding his stein. His other hand busily scratched his back. A troll in human form.
Eventually, he gave up. An act to symbolise his forthcoming answer.
“Hey, I’m just an F-rank adventurer. Most of us are. Nothing we can do.”
“Incorrect. If enough of you swim out to meet the pirates, then the clog of bodies buoyed by the dense mass of so much disappointment should be enough to resist any incursion onto these shores. But no matter, I expected nothing less.”
Both adventurers’ mouths opened wordlessly. Undoubtedly, the weight of so much truth spilled before them was a harsher attack than any they’d experienced over their long years of rescuing lost cats.
Fortunately, I needed no response.
Instead, I swept past the ogling pair, then cut a path through the queue to reach the wall of commissions. Disgruntled expressions and treasonous huffs met my intrusion until the merchants saw which notice I stood before.
There, amongst a litany of requests to search for childishly named tabbys, shorthairs and bobtails, was the only notice to bear a reward of crowns worthy of a smidgeon of my time.
(Updated) Piracy Concerns
Following consultation between the Trierport Maritime Commission and the Trierport Garrison, it has been agreed by Lady Teresa Malbeaux that due to safety concerns over the increasing belligerence of the pirate fleet and continuing lack of dialogue with its leadership, access to Trierport’s waters by vessels registered to the Kingdom of Tirea is prohibited until further notice. All docking fees are waived for the duration of the emergency stipulation.
All attempts are being made to reopen access as a matter of urgency. Any sightings of pirates on land is to be reported to the Trierport Garrison. A public fund is being gathered at the Trierport Adventurer’s Guild as remuneration for immediate removal of the pirate presence.
A+ rank, 127,892gc (updated 47th dawn, springtide)
I plucked the notice from the wall.
Immediately, the raucousness of the guild hall fell into a deafening silence.
The merrymaking of the yobs and the murmuring puzzlement from the merchants ceased to be as I made my way past the queue. Those lining for the reception desk provided plenty of space as I stopped before the receptionist.
Then, I slapped the notice down, ready for the gasp of shock from the staff member.
The woman glanced down, then smiled at me.
“Greetings! Welcome to the Trierport branch of the Adventurer’s Guild. I see you’ve removed a notice from the wall. That isn’t necessary. If you have any concerns over the details of a commission, then we’re able to enact changes from here.”
I scrunched up the notice ever so slightly.
“I have a significant amount of concerns, actually. The greatest of which is why the gold reward isn’t currently being prepared.”
“Excuse me?”
I raised my hand to my lips and smiled.
“Ohhohoho … rejoice, smiling purveyor of paperwork #3. The people of this town have called, and I have answered. I shall remove the pirate threat endangering Trierport’s shores!”
Silence.
Silence and stillness.
And then–
“Oooooooooooooooooooooh!!!!!!”
“It’s … It’s happening!! Someone’s come to save us!!”
“Finally! After all this time! My livelihood has almost been destroyed!”
“M-More crowns! Put down more crowns! Before she changes her mind!”
“Uuuuu … I’m going to cry … I can’t believe it … we’ll be free of those pirates at last!”
My eyes widened as an overwhelming cacophony filled my ears, rattling the cheap floorboards and reverberating throughout my very body.
In moments, what were declarations of glee became indecipherable cheers intermingled with tears of joy. A semi-circle of bodies rushed for me, hands reaching out like a mob of peasants hoping to glean a hint of the regalness from my royal stature. Faces were alight with unabashed relief. Shadows beneath eyes and wrinkled skin alike vanished like dew beneath a summer afternoon.
Only the spreading out of Coppelia’s arms prevented the peasant mob from reaching me as my diligent handmaiden threw herself in harm’s way to ensure my dignity. A serious frown dented her usually cheerful face as she made it abundantly clear no unwashed hands would pass through her stoic defence.
C-Coppelia!
I was touched!
She was … She was so loyal!
“All right, all right! Back up, all of you! Form a queue! 1 silver crown per second for the meet and greet! 10 silver crowns a handshake! Back up, all of you! Exact amounts only! No change!”
My jaw dropped as my amazement promptly vanished.
Instead … I was appalled!
10 silver crowns to touch my hand?!
That was … That was robbery! To me! A handshake with a princess couldn’t be valued in coins … and if it could, it certainly wouldn’t be for anything less than 10,000 gold crowns!
It was an insult to my status … and as soon as the applause and fervent cheers of happiness stopped ringing out, I’d thoroughly chastise her for not fleecing these commoners for more! … However long that took!
Indeed, the roaring yells simply increased! And so instead of feeling ire, I found myself stunned by the vocalness of the delight being directed at me!
This was a new experience!
Usually, commoners only quailed in fear while stuttering their apologies and their loyalty! And sometimes, they stuttered things which I never even heard, because my mother’s maids always covered my ears, having expertly read the lips before the words even came out!
For a moment, I found myself too stunned to react.
Such shouts of enthusiasm … for me … ! Nobody ever cheered in such a manner without the threat of my displeasure goading them on … !
Of course, this was merely a premonition of the future! A day in the life of Juliette Contzen, 3rd Princess of the Kingdom of Tirea, when I eventually … very eventually … opted to pursue more public duties after I’d finished my studies of common literature!
That’s why … it would be uncouth of me to react in a manner suggesting my surprise!
No, I would display the dignity of my station! I wouldn’t smile just because I was finally receiving the looks of adoration I always deserved! No, no, no, not at all. The hollering of the masses? Why, that was as common to me as the flowering of my spring petunias!
Indeed, I wouldn’t react! Not at all!
I would turn to face the receptionist and declare my intent once more, before modestly leaving the guild hall to stunned reverence at my quiet determination.
Thus, I swept around.
And then continued sweeping around, until I was faced with the crowd once more.
“Oho … ohoho … ohhohohohohohohohoho! That is correct! Feast your dour eyes upon my angelic light and bathe in my generosity! You stricken masses of little worth and littler hygiene, unfurl your purses and offer the tinkling serenade of your meagre wealth into my troll’s pouch, for I am the object of your gratitude!”
“Wooooooooooooo!! I don’t know what she’s saying, but she sounds so confident!!”
With the cheers crashing like waves into my ears, I flicked my hair and beautifully turned to the receptionist once more.
Properly, this time.
“I’ll require a ship,” I said simply, ignoring the very obvious levelling of the cheering at my statement. “And information. Namely, which of the pirate ships need removing first.”
The receptionist nodded, her professional smile never wavering despite the bedlam.
“Of course. May I have your guild ring?”
Ugh.
Even in the midst of my presence burning her irises with angelic light, her shadow of bureaucracy still fought to smother me.
“Thank you,” said the receptionist as I duly dropped the copper ring into her palm. “... [Identify].”
A faint glow lit up between the gaps of her fingers. A few moments later, she offered the ring back to me.
“Juliette. A D-rank adventurer. Your registered branch is Reitzlake. You’ve completed one commission with us. Welcome again to Trierport. As I note your intention to remove the pirate threat, I’m obligated to provide warning that the commission significantly exceeds your rank and will likely result in grievous harm or sudden death to your person.”
Suddenly–
The din of silence echoed around me once again.
“Oh … a D-rank? What a waste of time.”
“Tch. And I got my hopes up too …”
“Seriously, what do D-ranks think they can do on their own? If only the Golden Hogs were still around …”
A wave of backs turned to me.
In moments, all I heard were dissatisfied mumbles, and a chorus of feet as my adoring masses all shuffled away.
“Wait … Why is everyone … I am not done laughing … !”
I looked on in shock as a dismal atmosphere filled up the common room.
Suddenly, even the adventurers had sat down, no longer tussling with their derrières or belly sliding across kegs. A murmur filled the air, one of despondency and failed hopes.
Only Coppelia was in high spirits as she dealt with a semi-circle of her own.
“Nope! No refunds! You know the drill. I guaranteed nothing. If you have a problem, speak to my manager in Ouzelia.”
I pursed my lips.
O-Ohoho … ho … v-very well! So the common masses sought to cast doubt on my overwhelming natural talent! No matter!
After all, it wasn’t their yells in my ears I wished, but merely their coins! And I’d have it in full!
My head held high, I confidently faced the receptionist.
“A ship and information,” I reiterated, not at all slightly embarrassed or internally humiliated.
“I’ll provide what I have on file. Regrettably, however, the Adventurer’s Guild possesses no ships.”
“Excuse me?”
“The Adventurer’s Guild does not use or provide ships. We have no service which requires it. But we do facilitate clients who do.”
I blinked, then glanced behind me.
Some of the merchants had begun to find their places in the queue again. None of them met my eyes, despite all of them either knowing a captain or being one themselves.
However, just as I began considering my emergency plan to send Apple to eat the pirate fleet–
“... A D-rank adventurer, huh? I’d say you lot were getting pluckier, but that’d be a lie. None of your associates cared to look at that commission, much less take it down.”
I turned around as a large figure loomed over me.
A squished nose. Gaunt eyes. Black expression. A stomach which had its own shadow.
And also a plumed tricorne.
Well, now. Here was a rarity.
An ogre in the Kingdom of Tirea.
And one with the fashion sense to wear a tricorne.
Most settled with whatever they had on hand. Such as the blooded rags of their enemies. Or a tea towel. As it was, the only red was the crimson of his waistcoat, tailored from velvet and touched up with golden embroidery. I looked for a faulty seam and could not find any.
“A grave insult,” I replied to the ogre. “I do not count any of the layabouts you see around you as associates in any capacity. I barely count them as sentient.”
The ogre chuckled. Behind him, a pair of other ogres chuckled. Behind them, another pair. All of them wore the trappings of sailors, complete with the smell of the sea.
It said something about the overwhelming aura of disappointment the adventurers in this common room displayed that their slovenly antics overshadowed the presence of a crew of ogres, all of whom doubled the waist size of the largest man here.
“An understandable notion. I’ve met finer adventurers in my time. But I’ve also met worse.”
“Then you must have truly travelled to the worst alleyways of the world.”
“The worst alleyways. The worst bars. The worst cellars. For a wanderer of the sea, I seem to find myself in all the lowliest places on the land.”
The ogre dipped his head, partially raising his tricorne in the process.
“Captain Talrik of the Bloodskull Tribe. I believe I heard the saviour of Trierport required a ship?”
“You heard correctly.” I placed my hand atop my chest. “Juliette. And the one refusing all refunds is Coppelia, my future handmaiden.”
“A pleasure, ma’am. Might I inquire if you’re being quite serious about removing the pirate threat that’s causing a red blot on my bottom line?”
“Rest assured, captain, I’m always serious.”
The ogre nodded, his dark eyes examining me like a countryside baron on his first visit to the Royal Villa, wondering if our forks truly were inlaid with solid emeralds.
They were.
“Is that so? … And how do you, a D-rank adventurer with only one other by your side, intend to make true on your words?”
“Through whatever means possible.”
The ogres behind the captain started to chuckle. They quickly stopped when their leader didn’t.
Instead, the captain continued studying me, his dark eyes bearing into me as much as an anchor into the sandbed.
“There are more captains than rats in Trierport these days, but even if their feet are restless, you’ll find few are willing to move against the fleet upon the horizon. It is more than death which mariners fear. To lose one’s ship is to lose one’s soul. You shall see captains manning the bars of their favourite haunts before you’ll see them offering you a seat into a storm. And make no mistake, that is what you seek.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Then you’re mistaken. I do not head into the storm, captain, for I am its eye. And I intend to wash away the grime which pollutes the golden shores of this kingdom.”
The ogre nodded, but betrayed no expression.
“Fine words. But of those, I hear enough from my crew. And they know what I make of them. Are you willing to prove your worth before I entertain the, frankly, ludicrous notion of taking a D-rank human girl into the midst of certain peril?”
“That depends. Will it involve bringing duchies or sword saints to heel? Because I’ve just finished that, and I dread needing to write another lengthy letter so soon.”
The captain chuckled, apparently taking my very serious stipulation as a jest. His crew waited a moment before deciding it was safe to join in.
“Nothing quite so spectacular, I’m afraid. My first mate is missing, scoundrel that he is. If you can help me in finding his whereabouts, then I might consider a more detailed conversation.”
I frowned. That was hardly the guarantee I demanded.
But more than that, searching for a missing person sounded like a very … adventurer thing to do. And that was decidedly not me.
“My apologies, captain, but you’ll have to explain to me why any help is required. Surely, it cannot be difficult to locate an ogre in this predominantly human town?”
“I imagine so–if my first mate was an ogre, which he isn’t.”
“I see. A human, then?”
“No. Not a human.”
Suddenly, I became aware of all the notices on the wall behind me, and what a sizable portion of them entailed.
“A troll?” I asked hopefully.
“No.”
I pursed my lips.
“Captain Talrik of the Bloodskull Tribe … is your first mate a cat?”
The ogre before me nodded enthusiastically, before pointing at one of the notices I wasn’t going to read.
Ughhhhhhhhhh.
I felt my soul cry out in horror. But that was the extent of it.
After all, there was simply no way I was going to help look for a lost cat. That was ridiculous. I was a princess of the kingdom. Not some … some F-rank adventurer! I was above that grade now, in any case!
No. I wasn’t going to do it. I refused.
There was no scenario in which I would agree to this humiliation. I’d find another way. Another captain. Trierport was teeming with them. I simply had to make the right offer. The right demand. Doing so would be easy. More than easy, in fact.
Because what was I, if not a paragon of charm and diplomacy?
Indeed, I had no doubt in my mind!
I, Juliette Contzen, 3rd Princess to the Kingdom of Tirea, would absolutely not resort to searching for lost cats! …….
