Memoirs 498 - Storied tellers (Patreon)

“What is that creature?” Iyana asked, studying the boss as its attention fixed on them. “If I recall, Sir Caelus fought a great bear in the tale.”

“I could not say,” Scarlett answered. “I presume this is the result of Pellin increasing the difficulty of our challenge. Once more, I wish you the best of luck.”

The knight sent her a sideways look. “It seems like you’re enjoying this.”

Scarlett tilted her head. “I suppose I am. Would you like me to apologise?”

The creature ahead moved one of its heavy legs forward. Water rolled away from it in a broad wave, and a low hiss slipped from between its jaws as its tongue flicked through the air.

Iyana took a step in front of Scarlett.

“Make sure you stay well behind me,” she said, all expression gone from her face.

“I will.”

“Good.”

The woman shot forward.

Even in full armour, Scarlett was always surprised by how quickly Iyana could move. She crossed the distance in a handful of long strides, barely seeming to lose any speed as she reached the water.

The boss charged to meet her, barreling through the lake and throwing up sheets of water around its body. It reared its head, the white skin across its cobra-like hood suddenly darkening to a deep, almost oily black.

Its mouth opened, and a jet of thick black venom shot straight towards Iyana.

Her sword flared blue, and a shell of frost formed around her just before the attack struck. The venom splashed across it and the silver flowers around her, eating shallow pits into the ground as dark fumes rose from where it landed.

A moment later, Iyana dropped the barrier.

A path of ice formed in front of her, each step appearing just before her feet touched down as she rushed to meet the boss head-on, sword raised and trailing frozen mist.

Their first clash cracked through the basin.

Scarlett watched for a little while, then let her attention wander from the fight.

She scanned the surrounding cliffs until she spotted a strange formation of stone off to one side that looked suspiciously like a table with seats arranged around it.

That seemed convenient.

With the sounds of battle continuing behind her, Scarlett walked over and sat down.

The seat was surprisingly comfortable despite being stone. She leaned back slightly with her hands in her lap and returned part of her attention to Iyana’s fight.

The woman twisted through the air to avoid another jet of venom, a small foothold of ice appearing beneath one foot just long enough for her to kick off it. Her sword cut across the boss’ shoulder, sending several white and orange scales tumbling into the water below.

The beast didn’t seem to care all that much.

This would probably take a while.

A strange clapping sound came from Scarlett’s right, a little like dry sticks being knocked together.

“Impreeeessive! Powerful! Stirring! Indeeeeed, I like this champion!”

“Dame Iyana is rather striking, is she not?” Scarlett said. “They say she is one of the most talented swordswomen the empire has seen in generations, excluding perhaps the Untamed Marchioness. It is believed she may one day become the youngest captain the Royal Guard has ever had.”

Iyana landed near the shore after slipping past the boss’ jaws as they snapped shut where she had been a moment earlier. She swung her sword in a broad arc, and ice raced across a wide section of the lake, catching both of the creature’s front legs and freezing them in place.

She rushed in immediately, carving several cuts across its side and rear flank before its tail whipped around. Iyana moved aside, and the heavy fin slammed down where she’d been, crushing through the ice with enough force to send pieces skittering across the lake and landing on the various moss-covered stone islands dotting it.

Scarlett wondered who would be stronger at this point.

Iyana, or Fynn?

It was a tough one to call. Especially since Scarlett was far from an expert on the more martial side of things.

She turned away from the fight and looked across the stone table.

Pellin was sitting opposite her, his attention fixed entirely on the battle. There was something almost childlike in the way he leaned forward, following Iyana’s movements.

“So,” Scarlett said. “Are you ready to proceed with our wager?”

Pellin continued watching the fight for a while longer, but eventually, he looked towards her. Something about his face seemed to shift when he did, taking on a little more of its aged quality.

He adjusted himself on the seat, rested both arms on the table, and interlaced his many-jointed fingers.

“Would you like to start, or should I?” Scarlett asked.

“I will staaart.”

“Then go ahead.”

Another heavy crash sounded from the fight to their side.

Pellin began tapping his interlaced fingers together, the little golden caps at their ends clicking softly against the knuckles of his hands. “Faaaair lady, have you heard tell of The Fisherman and the Blackfin Kiiiing?”

The scent of salt suddenly drifted through the air.

A breeze brushed past Scarlett, carrying with it the smells of brine, seaweed, and wet stone. Somewhere overhead came the distant cries of gulls, followed by the muted sound of waves breaking against cliffs.

Her eyebrows rose slightly.

That was an interesting touch.

“I have not heard that tale, no,” she said.

Pellin straightened. “Then let me reeegale you!”

The Idol went on to tell her the story of a poor fisherman who lived on the coast of a small island and had never known much beyond its shores and fishing villages. He lived a simple life, keeping to the same familiar waters and never sailing beyond a line of black rocks offshore, where the Blackfin King was said to rule the deeper sea.

However, one year, the fishing turned bad. Out of desperation, the Fisherman sailed past the rocks alone.

On his first cast, he hooked an enormous black fish. Or at least he thought he had.

What he had actually caught was one of the Blackfin King’s whiskers.

The King rose from the sea and informed the fisherman that since he had ‘tried to take from the king’s body’, he now owed a debt. He was given a choice. Be eaten, or bring the King the one thing from the shore that the sea could never possess.

Naturally, the Fisherman chose the second option.

From there, the story followed him as he desperately tried to figure out what might satisfy the King, stumbling through one strange attempt after another. He brought fire, which the sea extinguished. Sand, which the sea swallowed. A bird, which drowned. A bell, whose sound carried just as easily over water as land. There were several more attempts after that, and the criteria behind each seemed to follow a similarly odd or unreasonable pattern.

By the end of it, Scarlett had reached the conclusion that the Fisherman might just not be particularly bright.

Eventually, having run out of ideas, the man returned to the Blackfin King empty-handed. Only when the King demanded to know what he had brought did the Fisherman apparently realise that he had forgotten to bring anything at all. He panicked and spread his arms wide, declaring that he had brought the King the shore’s absence of the sea. Dryness itself.

The King mocked him at first and demanded to see it, but the Fisherman argued that the moment the sea takes possession of dryness, it destroys the very thing it was meant to possess. Apparently, the King found that answer amusing enough to consider the debt paid and let him go.

When Pellin finally spoke the last words of his tale, the smell of salt and distant cries of seabirds faded with them. Soon, the only sounds left were the heavy crashes and splashes coming from Iyana’s fight across the basin.

The Idol watched Scarlett expectantly.

Scarlett considered the story for a few seconds before eventually nodding. “That was interesting.”

Despite his peculiar way of speaking, Pellin was actually a very good storyteller. She would give him that much. It did help that he could apparently also alter the surroundings to pull the listener further into whatever story he was telling.

“Now,” Scarlett said, “shall I go next?”

Pellin bobbed his head eagerly. “Yeees! Please!”

“I wonder what I should begin with?”

There had been this small part of the quest in the game where, if the player told Pellin a story, he would give them an extra reward. It had only been a minor detail, but it had been enough to establish that the Idol was almost absurdly fond of stories in all their forms.

That was what had given Scarlett the idea to offer him this wager.

A contest of stories.

She didn’t doubt that, given his age and nature, Pellin knew far more tales and legends than she ever would. He was likely better at telling them, and ordinarily, Scarlett wouldn’t stand a chance. In that sense, challenging an Idol literally known as the Teller at the Crossroads to a storytelling contest was probably more than a little arrogant.

But Scarlett had one advantage.

She knew that what Pellin valued most in a story was actually novelty. New stories mattered far more to him than old ones.

That had been enough to convince her that she stood a decent chance.

“Tell me,” she said after a while, meeting his dark eyes, “have you ever heard the story of the haunted bard with the self-deceiving smile?”

Pellin leaned forward over the table. “Nooo.”

“Then allow me to tell you.”

At the edges of Scarlett’s vision, shadows slowly crept in, as if to set the mood. Faint whispers slipped through them, indistinct enough that she couldn’t make out any words, yet they caused a chill to run down her spine.

Interesting. So the ambience worked for her as well?

“The story begins with the birth of a girl under the ill auspices of the Six Blazes and of the Vile once known as Anguish…”

Scarlett probably couldn’t match Rosa when it came to making a story entertaining, but judging by Pellin’s reaction, she didn’t do too badly recounting hers.

The Idol looked practically glued to the table as Scarlett went through the circumstances Rosa suffered, the events that had eventually brought the bard into Scarlett’s service, and the various incidents they had stumbled through together before finally ending up at Anguish’s Citadel.

When Scarlett finished, Pellin simply stared at her.

For almost a full minute, he didn’t say anything.

At one point, Scarlett actually began to wonder whether she had misread his interest.

Then the Idol suddenly clapped his hands together louder than Scarlett had ever heard someone clap.

“Greeeat story! Sad story, yet happy end! Poor bard, but indeed very fortunate. I will reeeemember this.”

Scarlett relaxed, inwardly thanking Rosa for the material and apologising for using it without asking. Though she doubted the woman would mind. If anything, Rosa would just be miffed about missing the opportunity to tell the story herself with her own flair and flourishes.

Pellin spent some time considering what his next story should be before eventually settling on one about a prince who tried to bargain away his shadow and then spent years trying to convince it to come back.

When he finished, it was Scarlett’s turn again.

After some thought, she decided to tell him about Arlene.

Not everything, of course, but enough of the woman’s life, the things she had endured, and the choices that had eventually left her remembered by history as the Red Witch of Destruction to hold Pellin’s attention. That included what role she had played as Scarlett’s teacher.

And so they continued, back and forth, trading stories.

Scarlett’s strongest stories had come early, but she still thought she managed to keep hers interesting. And the fact that all of hers were things she had actually witnessed or heard about firsthand probably helped.

Eventually, after finishing a somewhat abbreviated retelling of what her party had gone through in Beld Thylelion, Scarlett waited for Pellin’s response.

This time, there was no clapping or excited words. Instead, the Idol remained silent.

“Is something wrong?” Scarlett asked.

Pellin raised one hand, motioning for her to be quiet.

Scarlett arched a brow, but waited.

While he sat there thinking, she turned her attention back towards Iyana’s fight to see how things were going.

The lake was almost half frozen by now, with broad sheets of broken ice floating across the sections that weren’t. One of the boss’ front legs dragged whenever it moved, while another had several deep cuts running along its side, and its tail was hanging almost limp in the water.

It was still putting up a fight, though.

Running across steps of ice, Iyana ducked beneath another snap of its jaws, drove her sword into the side of its neck, and kicked away before the creature could crush her beneath its weight. The boss twisted after her as she landed on one of the small islands, venom spraying from its mouth, only for a wall of frost to rise in front of the attack.

It actually looked a bit more one-sided than Scarlett had expected.

Just as she thought that, rather suddenly, the fight was over.

The boss lunged, its body surging towards Iyana and crashing through the wall of frost.

This time, the knight didn’t dodge.

Instead, she sheathed her sword in a move that reminded Scarlett of Arnaud.

A cold blue glow gathered around the weapon as the boss bore down on her, and just before its jaws could reach her, Iyana drew. A line of ice flashed across the creature’s throat, following a series of cuts Scarlett only now realised Iyana had been working at throughout the fight.

A violent crack followed, and frost burst through the weakened wound.

The boss staggered. Its legs gave out beneath it, and its entire body crashed down across the little island where Iyana had been standing.

Water and broken ice exploded outward across the lake.

Scarlett blinked.

Was Iyana fine?

A few seconds passed. Then the boss’ head shifted slightly, and Iyana forced her way out from beneath its neck, climbing free before rising to her feet and looking back at the body.

The lower half of her armour was streaked with red, though Scarlett assumed most of it belonged to the creature.

“Fiiiine,” Pellin suddenly said beside her.

Scarlett turned back towards him.

“You wiiiin.”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

“Nooo, no.” Pellin waved both hands. “I thank you. Great stories! Wonderful stories!”

Then he pointed towards Iyana, who had moved to retrieve her sword from beneath the fallen boss. “And champion toooo! Great fight! Very exciting!”

Pellin flicked his fingers.

The boss’ body dissolved into dark mist.

Iyana paused, looking perplexed, then bent down and picked up her sword.

Pellin hopped off his seat and grabbed his walking stick, which had been standing on its own beside the stone table.

“Come! Come! Award tiiiime!”

He hurried towards the lake.

Iyana met them at the shore after crossing over what remained of the ice. When Pellin tapped the end of his stick against the ground, all of that ice vanished, leaving the lake perfectly clear again.

He tapped the stick a second time.

A round patch on the water’s surface rippled strangely, then stilled in that state. Another appeared a short distance beyond it, followed by another, forming a trail across the lake.

Pellin stepped onto the first one and simply continued walking.

Iyana looked from him to Scarlett.

“How did it go?” she asked.

“About as well as for you,” Scarlett answered, glancing down at the blood streaking the knight’s armour. “Or better, perhaps.”

“Good.” Iyana looked back towards Pellin. “Are we supposed to follow him?”

“I believe so, yes.”

A faint frown crossed the woman’s brow. She studied the strange ripple footholds on the lake, then carefully tested one with the toe of her boot.

Her foot went straight through.

She turned back to Scarlett.

Scarlett shook her head.

“Normally, this would not be much of an issue for me,” she said. “At present, however, I am afraid I will have to leave the solution to you.”

Iyana drew her sword again and sent a thin layer of ice spreading across the water, linking one of Pellin’s strange footholds to the next until a narrow path stretched across the lake.

Scarlett followed after the woman.

Very carefully.

She had no idea how Iyana made walking across ice look so easy.

Thankfully, the knight slowed down and stayed close enough to catch Scarlett if she slipped, though that did make their progress noticeably slower than Pellin’s. By the time they reached the other side, he was already waiting beside the upward-falling waterfall. He gave them one glance before walking straight through it.

Scarlett stopped in front of the rushing water, watching it for a moment as she imagined what it’d do to her hair and clothes.

She really missed her hydrokinesis.

With a small scowl, she stepped through along with Iyana. Cold water immediately soaked her from head to toe.

Wonderful.

The space beyond opened into a broader cavern.

Scarlett had barely taken two steps before something moved above them. Looking up, she froze as she met the slitted pupils of the boss that Iyana had just killed. Its enormous head hung over a ledge just beneath the ceiling, dark tongue flicking as it stared down at them.

Iyana moved in front of Scarlett.

Pellin simply waved.

The creature stared for another moment before disappearing behind the ledge.

Pellin continued deeper into the cavern, where a tunnel connected.

Scarlett stood there for another couple of seconds before forcing her heartbeat back under control and following after him with Iyana. They passed through the tunnel before the passage opened ahead.

Beyond it waited a small clearing covered in grass so bright it almost seemed to glow. Dense walls of colourful greenery rose along the edges, branches and leaves growing together so thickly that they looked almost woven, while small motes of blue light drifted lazily through the air.

At the far end lay a clear pool surrounded by smooth stone and clusters of flowers.

Scarlett smiled.

There it was.

[Quest completed: Wayfarer’s Challenge]{Skill points awarded: 35}

[Side-quest completed: The Teller’s Wager]{Skill points awarded: 30}

Scarlett glanced at the system windows that appeared before her.

It had been a while since she’d last gotten to see a quest completion notice. She had been saving her skill points for some time now, and this should finally put her above one of the thresholds she had been keeping an eye on.

A nice extra benefit of coming here.

Close to the pool stood a small hut, though it wasn’t much more than a crooked wooden frame with woven walls and a sloping roof. Pellin hurried straight towards it, stopping at the entrance to prop his walking stick against the wall before looking back at them.

“Faaaair ladies! I will fetch prizes and bountiiiies. Payments and profits! Will be gone for some timeee. Feeel free to bathe!”

With that, he disappeared inside.

Iyana glanced at Scarlett. “What now?”

“Now,” Scarlett said, looking towards the pool, “we collect our reward. After that, I imagine we will want to find our way home again.”