Chapter 1 - Turnabout (Patreon)

My legs were racing, arms pumping back and forth in an effort to make me move faster and I was hyperventilating like crazy. I sprinted along the side of the simple log cabin and slipped a little as I cleared the corner of the cabin way too fast. I could hear low growls from behind me and tried to increase my speed even further. In front of me, Lyle held onto the open gate and cheered me on as my pistoning legs worked overtime to save my life. The gate quickly drew closer, as did the growls from behind, and I dove head-first through the gate, yelling: "Shut it! Now!" while airborne.

I hit the ground badly and had the air knocked from me. From behind me came a dull thump, and Lyle grunted: "Little help please?" I looked back, and could see him struggling to shut the gate, where the head of the beast was moving back and forth in a frenzy. Saliva was flying everywhere, and Lyle was struggling to gain a foothold, as he was slowly pushed backwards. I struggled to my feet, started running and slammed my shoulder into the gate with all the force I could. The impact sent a dull pain shooting up my shoulder, but fortunately also resulted in a loud yelp, and the beast drew his head back in pain, allowing Lyle to quickly slam the gate shut.

Stumbling over to a nearby tree, I dropped to the ground. Running for my life - it really wasn't something I wanted to get used to, but it seemed to be happening often these days.

I looked over to Lyle. He was eyeing the gate nervously, clearly not satisfied that the construction could keep the brutish guard dog within the confines of the solid wooden enclosure. I couldn't really fault him for doing so - the term "dog" was a bit misleading, and I felt confident that at some point, the dog's ancestors had enjoyed intimate relations with a bull. The result was all muscles, huge teeth and a bad temper.

Resting my head against the tree, I closed my eyes, letting the sweat cool on my skin. "Hey Lyle." I called. "I'm getting the clear impression I should've asked a couple of questions a bit earlier, For instance: Exactly how much did our friendly bouncer, Kiff, tell you about any ravenous guard dogs he had standing around?"

I could hear the shuffling sound of Lyle moving closer. "Erm - it's not like...I mean to say, he didn't. He just said to get the stuff and to get the good stuff or he wouldn't pay anything. That part he actually said twice. I can go back and check with him how..."

"Relax Lyle." I interrupted him with a laugh. Now that the dog was at a safe distance, I could practically feel the tension oozing out of me. "It's my fault as much as yours. I know what Kiff's like, and this shouldn't come as a surprise, really. Correct me if I'm wrong, but he seems like the type who'd laugh his skull off if we returned empty-handed with claw marks all over."

Lyle shot off a nervous laugh at that - didn't seem like I was way off target. "Now, the question is: How do we get past the beastie? I'd prefer that we avoid hurting him - he's just doing his job, really, even if he looks like something that's part demon. Also, Kiff might just take it badly."

His laughter grew a bit less constrained at that. "Yeah, I wouldn't want to be the one to tell him - he has quite a temper. So - erm - what do we do? I mean, Darya showed me some mushrooms that can sort of knock out an animal, but I'm not really sure how to find any."

I sat up and scratched my head, pondering the possibilities. It wasn't a problem, really - if Lyle couldn't obtain Darya's help in locating something useful, Ms. Bertinga would surely have some doodad or other that'd be able to put the beast to sleep without any permanent side effects. Except, there was something that'd been rummaging around in my brain for a while that I really wanted to try out.

With a grunt, I got back up, pulled out my violin and mentally rehearsed the tune I was looking for. I nodded towards the tree I'd just vacated and said: "Why don't you take a break? I'll try and see if I can actually make this work." He gave me an inquisitive look, but obediently sat down.

I gave the guard dog an assessing look, as I walked closer - the name tag was blue, meaning the beast was about my level, and probably shouldn't resist my spells too often. I addressed the animal, which started growling again as I moved closer: "So you're trying to make a meal out of me, huh? That's pretty ill-mannered, I'd say, but I suppose I should give you some leeway for having a crappy owner. How about we let bygones be bygones and start over, huh? You and me? Best buddies?"

I raised the bow and started playing - only to lower it a moment later, disappointed to see that nothing had happened and my plan wasn’t working. I glared at the guard dog, cracked my knuckles and got to work.

They say that when Edison invented the light bulb, he failed in creating a working light bulb about ten thousand times. His comment to that, paraphrasing because my memory for quotes is horrible, was something like: "I did not fail. I just discovered ten thousand ways that won’t work."

An hour and a half later, I had confirmed, to my complete lack of surprise, that I’d never achieve that kind of patience. I was sweating from playing in the midday heat and fuming at my own incompetence, the stubbornness of the dog, and the world in general.

I was trying to invent a new spell, but it was completely eluding my grasp. For the life of me, I couldn’t tell what was the problem was – the songs I chose, the spell I wanted to create or the possibilities allowed by the system.

I’d started out with a desire to create some sort of "Charm Animal" spell, but nothing seemed to work. I tried a couple of those cute and cuddly songs from old cartoons where fluffy animals seemed to appear from the woodwork and befriend the singer. When that failed to give any results, I went classical - I figured Gershwin’s “walking the dog” might do the trick, but no dice. Following that, I tried to come up with a suitable solution for a similar "Sleep" spell for animals, with the same lack of results. Then, feeling that it was my playing that might be the problem, I tried going over the same songs, only played differently. Less or more intensity, changing the tone of the songs to be more soothing, more angry, faster or slower. Whatever I tried: No. Result. Whatsoever!

In order to vent a little, I went for a short walk, ignoring a befuddled Lyle who seemed to have an infuriating amount of fun at my increasing agitation.

In the past, walking had sometimes helped clear my head, and today seemed to be no different. My problem was, I decided, that I didn’t really know what the factors were for a success in learning a new spell, and was reduced to trial and error. Sure, Greck had been kind enough to teach me how the deciding factors basically could be reduced to my skill level in Sonic Spells plus my Musician skill versus the difficulty of the spell involved – but I’d failed to ask whether there was any limit to the number of spells you could learn, or what would happen if you set out to learn a spell that was marginally different from a "standard" spell. Could I, theoretically, teach myself hundreds of variations of a regular spell, for instance, or were there any inherent limits - or only very limited numbers and types of available spells? I believe he’d mentioned something about a limited number of combinations, but couldn’t recall exactly what it was. There was nothing for it at the moment, but to save all my questions for my next session with Greck. At the moment, I could either devote myself to spending the necessary time needed to stumble upon the combination I needed to learn one of the spells I was aiming for, or adjust to the fact that it’d be easier for me once I knew a bit more about learning spells in general and return to Grant’s Crossing with Lyle.

Having my difficulties spelled out for me like that was a bit of a relief. I honestly didn’t care to spend a lot of time in the forest trying my luck without knowing whether my approach was all wrong, and the quest really wasn’t that pressing. With that I decided to call it quits and make an early day of it - maybe even look into those disappearing corpses for Chertog. Heh - the gratitude might even make him cut down on the puns for a while. With that (extremely unlikely) cheery thought, I upped my pace and hiked back towards Kiff’s cabin. It really was a beautiful day. The sky was clear and blue, the weather warm and a slight breeze caressed my skin as I walked. The forest was teeming with life, and the entire scene had an idyllic air that stood as a refreshing contrast to some of the dark scenes I’d observed over the past couple of weeks. It was almost like setting foot in an old Disney cartoon, and I felt the sudden urge to start playing and see all the cute and cuddly creatures of the forest join me on my walk back to Lyle.

And just like that, a flash of inspiration struck. Turning full circle, I focused my sight on a nearby squirrel above me that was happily chatting away with its mouth full, and softly started to play.

It took a couple of false starts, because I had to get the feeling for the song - I was playing by memory, and it'd been ages since I’d last heard it, but moments later, The Pied Piper was streaming from my hands, and the babbling, warm and joyful melody was accompanied by the long-sought-after pop-up:

[Congratulations. You have learned a new spell: Entrance Animals. Sound waves spellbind and attract all nearby animals, who remain calm and happy for as long as you keep playing and maintain the spell. If the spell fails, or targets take any damage, they revert to their original state and temper. Large animals, additional animals or hostile animals will add to the difficulty of the skill check. Every skill point to Entrance Animals will increase the potential chance of the spell holding.

Properties:
Range: 10 meter radius
Cast time: 3.0 seconds
Cooldown: 8 hours
Mana cost: 15/minute]

I kept up playing while I tried out the effect of the spell in practice. The squirrel jumped from the tree and moved closer, until it sat on its haunches right in front of me, swaying slightly to the music. If I moved backwards, the squirrel moved along with me. I started walking back towards the cabin, and a minute later, a hedgehog crept from under a nearby bush and started following me. Wow - I had to be really careful using this spell among hostile animals. I could easily picture myself running out of mana with a huge pack of wolves gazing dreamily at me or attracting enough animals that my control over the spell would shatter. Just to see what would happen, I stopped playing, and watched in amusement as the squirrel chittered angrily at me before returning to the safe haven of the tree tops. The hedgehog played possum for a while, and then slowly returned to the undergrowth.

I returned in triumph to Lyle, who had succumbed to boredom and was snoring softly seated against the tree.

As I explained my accomplishment he showed the extent of his appreciation along with his white teeth in a huge yawn: "So you're going to go inside that fence, right next to that beast, and play to keep it calm - and one little mistake or stumble will be enough for the dog to break free of the spell and attack?"

"That's not what I'm...huh, well I guess it was. All right - slight correction, where we handle it a little more cleverly. I play for the doggie on this side of the fence, move slowly to the other side while I take the dog with me, and when we're there, you're free to enter the cabin and gather everything that's necessary. Deal?"

Lyle nodded, looking considerably less disturbed by that plan, and we immediately set to work. I spent the next ten minutes on the far side of the fence, entertaining the dog who actually looked sort of cuddly with his tongue happily lolling out of his mouth. The fact that he wasn't trying to chew on my leg also helped immensely.

As Lyle approached with a frown on his face, I let the spell drop and enjoyed the momentary confusion on the dog's face before it started growling again. I approached Lyle and asked: "Why the long face? Nothing to be found? Did you break anything?"

His frown grew even more pronounced: "Thanks for the vote of confidence. No, I did find the entrance key in an urn, a still - and a vat, plenty of large bottles and stuff like that. It's only - well, look here." He held up a large bottle for me to inspect.

The bottle was nondescript, with plenty of liquid sloshing around inside, and the only thing that stood out was a hand-written label on the front. "What is this? Ginok Átil. Dresz, anok - That sounds almost..."

Lyle interrupted me: "Dwarven, I know. Also, the place was really clean - like it is at home every Sunday. If Kiff has been avoiding this place for some time now, why's it clean?"

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "So, you're telling me that this isn't Kiff's cabin? He just wanted someone else to go steal a bunch of good dwarven alcohol for him? Gods-cursed, two-timing, cheap bastard." Lyle was staring at his feet, clearly uncomfortable, and I reined it in a bit. "All right - no reason to dwell on it mate - let's talk about how we manage to receive some compensation from Kiff for wasting our time in the forest."

"What do you mean? Shouldn't we turn him in - tell the Council? Or at the very least figure out who he tried to plunder and tell him?"

"I guess we could." Damn - from time to time, I forgot that Lyle's class was actually Knight and not just your typical bash-stuff-and-get-paid warrior. "Want to get going back to the village? I could really do with something chilly to drink after these exertions."

Walking back, I gave it some thought, and in the end decided that this time around, the right way to go would be being open and forthright. It's not like I minded being a little manipulative here and there, but I could see the teamwork with Lyle working splendidly a long time from now - and for that, I'd probably better be open about my wishes. "Hey Lyle - What happens to small-time criminals in Grant’s Crossing?”

“Not that much, I think. It’s not like we have a jail, and it’d have to be a pretty nasty crime for them to send somebody off with a caravan or through a portal for sentencing. They fined lil’ Arvos for nicking some of the Harbourmaster’s son’s jewelry, but nothing apart from that. We’re all pretty civil around here.”

I scratched my neck, where a couple of bloodsuckers had gotten to me. Again, I had to marvel at the realism of the game at the same time as I cursed the Exogenics programmers for their insistence on including unnecessary annoyances. “So a slap on the wrist and a fine. Fair enough. Another thing though: Do you think that our good friend Kiff would be the type to somehow make trouble for us for telling the world what a bastard he is?”

The expelled breath from Lyle and following silence told me everything I needed to know. “All right, Lyle, I think I get the picture. Honestly, you should decide - it’s your village and people you know, after all. Before you make up your mind, however, I have an alternative that might work out even better for the village in the long run. The way I see it: Even if we tell on him, there’s no way to prove that he was planning a crime - and even if by some miracle we do prove it, it wouldn’t have any real effect on him. So - what if, instead, we make sure that he knows that we know, ensure that he won’t pull off a trick like that again, and have him do some work that’ll help the community as a whole?”

Lyle looked at me like I’d been drinking: “And how in the pits would you arrange all that?

I laughed out loud, “That’s the brilliant part of it: I’d threaten him - with a song!”

He scoffed at me. “Fine, be that way. But all right - if you can somehow manage to talk him into all those things, I’d agree it’s probably a better solution.”

We walked in silence for quite some time, and I experienced something that’d been virtually impossible over the last few days - a period of peace and quiet, and I enjoyed taking the time to gather my thoughts a little. After I’d accepted the position as the official bard of Grant’s Crossing it seemed everything in the village had been postponed until all possible problems and considerations had been talked to death and an official stand had been taken. Basically, this meant that everybody involved had had to spent the last three days repeating whatever they knew over and over again in order to quell whatever new rumor had appeared. Yes, I was certain that Othell had been the demonologist - he’d admitted as much and more to my face. Yes, the Gardarsson brothers had admitted to being part of it as well. Yes, Darya was the one who’d finally forced him to flee. In the end, I’d been unable to do anything useful with my time apart from playing in the tavern each night - the only windfall was that my Diplomacy skill had gained a full three levels from the constant discussions. Oh, and in the post-battle celebrations, they’d been pretty loose with the tips.

I hadn’t really taken the time to contemplate my situation lately, and it felt like it was way overdue. Ingame, I was doing well - no discussion. The Chronicler class seemed to be the choice for someone like me who loved riddles, lore and puzzles. So far, I hadn’t even been forced to spend my time poring over some boring old tome, which I initially feared. Tinkering was fun and promised to become a truly versatile weapon in the future, and I looked forward to going monster hunting and gaining some more ingredients. Finally, the Bard class - I loved it. Whoever chose it simply in order to play a melee/sorcery hybrid didn’t know what they were missing out on. I also felt very appreciated in the village, and it didn’t seem like I’d run out of things to entertain myself with in the near future. Basically, I wasn’t going anywhere. Outside the game - heh, that one was a little tougher. I had come to the conclusion that my landing in Grant’s Crossing was a godsend. Given that there was a risk that the mobsters had become aware that I’d entered World of Chains, running around in the larger cities, spending money frivolously suddenly didn’t seem that appealing to me - it’d be way too easy to connect the dots and find me. No, for now, laying low and enjoying myself sounded like the perfect plan - apart from that I’d just focus on the original idea: Wait until the heat dies down. Sure, it was a major pain, knowing that I had all that cash readily available, with only a minor technicality barring the way - but it wasn’t enough for me to risk my life, trying to get access. A couple of years from now, it’d still be right there.

We finished our hike without any incidents, and before we knew it, Grant’s Crossing slowly became visible through the greenery. Nothing much seemed to have changed from the first time I approached the village, just two weeks back, yet something had changed. The buildings were still the same, heavyset timber houses with little to no adornments, and the surrounding forest was unchanged as well, though everything did look a lot kinder in the bright sunlight. The mood had changed, though. As we neared the city gate, we spotted a young couple who were returning from the woods, flushed from the sun and clearly in love. A female orc, back bent with age, left for the forest, carrying a large basket and a bandolier of knives and other tools. She nodded politely to us and rolled her eyes at the sight of the couple with a small smile on her face, as she passed us by.

Inside the gates, Lyle excused himself and took off, and I steeled myself for the coming confrontation with Kiff. I didn't expect it to turn ugly, but then again, I hadn't expected him to set us up like this either.

When I entered The Warlock’s End, I was momentarily taken aback by how much the place had come to feel like home to me. The moment I set foot on the creaking planks of the tavern floor and inhaled the savory scents coming from the kitchen, it felt like somebody had taken a load off my shoulders.

Part of that weight returned, when I spotted Kiff slouching against the wall in his regular spot near the bar, but I ignored it. His dark clothes and muscular frame made me think of a panther at rest, and I set my shoulders and charged in before I became too anxious.

"Hey Kiff. Got a moment? I've got something for you."

He lit up with a predatory smile and gestured expansively with his arm in front of him: "Splendid. Lead the way, fiddle boy."

I ignored the moniker and led him to my room, where I seated myself at the other side of my table, ignored his self-satisfied smile and took a shot at him: "So, Kiff. Too proud to engage in our own petty theft, are we?"

That sure wiped the smile off his face. He grew red in the face, and placed both hands on the table, growling down at me: “What the hell are you on about? If you couldn’t..”

“Cut the crap, Kiff.” I interrupted with a condescending smile on my face. Under the table, my hands were gripping my legs tightly. Damn, was that man ever intimidating. “We both know what you did and didn’t do. Now sit down. We need to talk consequences.”

“Screw you.” He spat, and that annoying smile found its way back. “I don’t have to do jack. It’s not like you have any evidence. Dreben curse you for not bringing any bottles back with you though. Now, if there’s nothing else?” He moved for the door.

That attitude of his was really getting to me. I let a bit of my annoyance bleed through my voice: “Walk out that door, and things are going to turn ugly.”

His hand froze on the door handle, and his voice turned cold: “Are you threatening me?”

“Not at all. It’s a fact though. Right now, I’m trying to solve this in as fair a manner as possible, but if you leave, you won’t even know what you could’ve avoided. Feel free to stand there looming while I break it down for you. First of all: You could’ve done your own dirty work yourself. Lyle’s a sanctimonious sort, and might have done something if he’d learned about it, but me? There wouldn’t be any reason for me to intervene - pits, I might’ve even bought a bottle from you. You just had to get some dupe to do the dirty work for you, and take the fall if things went south - and that makes it personal for me. Second: While you’re undoubtedly both stronger and faster than me, and might be able to tear me limb from limb, I’d be Reborn a short while later. And allow me to let you in on a little secret. I recently learned a spell that can make you obey my every command for ten minutes, even while you’re inside your own head, screaming.” While that was only partially true - the Charm Person spell didn’t work exactly like that - I still allowed Kiff a little time for his subconscious to really get rolling, and only continued when I thought I spotted a slight reaction on his stoneface. “My third and final comment is this: I wouldn’t attack you. I’d just - sing.”

I shot him a smile and waited for a moment to really allow the confusion to set in before I continued. “It isn’t even going to be a song about you. Just someone who happens to look and act like you. And I will tell you, the Chronicle of the Contagious Courtesan will draw a lot of laughter - just maybe not from you.” I watched his face go slowly from confusion over realization to stunned shock, and while I knew that it was an extremely childish reaction, I just had to use my Photographic Memory ability right there, in order to treasure the look on his face later.

Finally, he settled into anger - for him, a familiar expression - and pointed an accusing finger straight at me. “If you do something like that, I’ll…”

Again, I interrupted him: “You’ll do what exactly? I have no intentions of repeating myself here, so here are your options: You can either take your chances to become the laughing stock of Grant’s Crossing, you can throw the first punch, or you can sit down and we figure out a fair repayment. I promise, it’ll be fairer than you setting us up in the first place.

Kiff fairly trembled with anger, and I had to fight not to flinch - a vein in his forehead was throbbing so hard, I thought it was going to burst. After what seemed like an eternity, he spat and said: “I have no damn money, so forget about it.”

I waved away his concerns and indicated the chair in front of him: “That’s not what I wanted from you anyway. See, Lyle is a decent hand with a mace, but there are a few places where he could definitely improve with some practice…”

Two minutes later, I closed the door behind Kiff and stumbled over to open the window and just stood there, taking deep gulps of air and letting the sweat cool on my skin. A weak laugh erupted from my lips - in the end, he’d agreed to everything I asked of him. Twice a week for the next three months, he’d act as a personal trainer to Lyle, allowing him to toughen up and improve his combat skills without any risk of real damage. He’d arrange for everything - a good selection of weapons, armor and whatever was needed, and Lyle just had to show up. As an added bonus, my Blackmail skill had increased. The quest to win the approval of Lyle’s father still stubbornly refused to update though - in the end, I’d probably have to arrange for Lyle to save his father from a horde of monsters in order to complete that one - seemed like nothing else would do.

Ah, well - I grinned to myself - today definitely hadn’t been a complete waste, and there was still plenty of sunlight left - I’d go for a well-earned beer break, and then we’d see about taking on the rest of the world.