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Drip-Fed – Path of Responsibility 1 – Contested Quest
🕑 Added 2024-11-13 10:02:15 +0000 UTC
Atlas and Apexus sat across each other.
They occupied the broad sides of a long table. Next to each of the party leaders sat their many members.
On Apexus’ side, Aclysia glared with all the annoyance an angel could muster. She was in full agreement with her darling’s moral stance on this issue and, further, she found the whole hassle that now cropped up around it an affront to his valuable time. Reysha was torn on the matter, between old selfishness and learned altruism, and thus sat uncharacteristically quiet. Korith, under other circumstances, could have seen herself on Atlas’ side.
As for the Warrior’s party, it was not nearly as mixed. Alabasta was the mirror of Aclysia when it came to the morality of this. Although less extreme, Flora and Rahesia both were also of the firm opinion that they were in every right to ask for a massive reward for a Quest that sent them across the entire Leaf. Months of travel would incur costs for provisions, equipment damage, and consumable items, not to mention the danger that they would put themselves through. Out there was the true wilderness. Only Kumlin had some reservations about how much they were taking from the noble.
Said noble sat on one end of the long table. He was a nervous wreck, stress-greyed hair dishevelled and leg bouncing. His sunken eyes darted around the table, searching for any certainty.
On the other end of the table sat the local guild master. The man was a former veteran adventurer. The reason for his retirement was starkly visible: a massive scar from the side of his forehead across the temple. The scar, despite its age, still looked raw in many ways, creating a fleshy trench in this hairline. It was a remnant from an expedition into the general vicinity of the influence zone of the Necro Lord’s Crypt. A single axe swing from a Death Knight had left the scar and the guild master’s reflexes had never been quite the same afterwards.
Still, he had been level 38 at his peak and such strength may diminish, but it never properly faded. A power to assert dominance, if it was ever needed.
Beyond the people at the table, the guild itself was packed. Everyone with some relation to the Atlas or Inevitable Party wanted to see this – which was almost every regular adventurer of Drowse. Atlas was the regular, Apexus the sympathetic newcomer, and the fault line that ran down that table ran through the heart of every adventurer as well. All tilted towards one way or another, but no one could deny that there was a call to do both what was right and what was personally rewarding.
“All of this is stupid,” Atlas growled.
Apexus stared across the table. The lack of response had Atlas gnash his teeth. He got ready to say more. The guild master loudly tapping his finger on the tabletop prevented any escalation. “Stupid it may be, but it’s the situation regardless,” the man declared and crossed his arms. His eyes drifted over the crowd. ‘I would have preferred to do this privately, but they made a whole deal about it from the marketplace up to this table…’
The whole situation was the logical endpoint of an argument in public. Both sides had accepted the Quest, but neither side wanted the other to have it. Apexus found it immoral to force the noble to sell his entire livelihood when the reward was, in his opinion, plenty. Atlas found it idiotic to sell his services short when the Quest was, in his opinion, too dangerous to do it for less. Had this not been a matter of principle for both of them, one could have backed down.
‘Now it has come to this,’ the guild master thought as he rubbed his forehead, then let out a heavy sigh. “We will cover our bases first. Lord Tarath, it is my knowledge that you have posted the Quest for 50 Platin, is this correct?”
“Y-yes! That is all the liquid assets I can spare at this time…” the noble answered, his voice growing quieted with every moment.
“And you can go up to 5000, you declared?”
“I-i-I can… accrue some debts…”
“How much can you do without going into debt?” Atlas asked.
“Around 3000?” the noble answered. A sum that caused rumours all around regardless. With 3000 Platin, a party could comfortably retire or get enough magical items to effectively trivialize their current Level bracket. The weapons would become useless as their Levels then increased. Until that point, it was the kind of assurance everyone wanted.
And that was only if they stayed on this Leaf, where competition for such items was high. If they moved to a world with a buyers’ market, that kind of money could make them lords of the economy for several years.
“3000 Platin, sounds reasonable to me,” Atlas stated. “Just let us do this Quest. He’ll lose his lands, but that’s just how fate plays things sometimes. His daughter will be saved and they will have each other.”
“You would take from a man his house, his pride, and all that he can offer his daughter in the process of saving her.” Apexus continued to stare stoically at his opposite. “I would eat Parasytes before I let you do that.”
Aclysia sent her man a shocked glance. The wider room gasped, murmurs breaking out between the many parties. Apexus’ true nature was somewhat of an open secret by this point. It was not necessary knowledge to know how deep of an insult had just been delivered. Atlas’ face gradually turned red with rage.
“ORDER!” The shout of the guild master blasted through the room, his voice boosted by ki concentrated in his vocal cords and neck joint. “I see no way out of this then! Since neither of you will back off, we might as well accept the inevitable. The Guild authorizes a Contested Quest!”
The adventurers returned to speaking to each other, louder this time. The only two parties in the room totally quiet were the ones at the table.
A Contested Quest went against the mission statement of the Adventurer’s Guild.
The foundation of the organization laid in being the legitimately accepted arbiter between those who gave quests and those who took them. In that work, it was important that the Guild assured that parties did not overlap in what Quests they took up. This was for a variety of reasons, each of them highly important to the functioning of the ecosystem.
If Quests became an open system functioning on ‘whoever reported back first’, this would inevitably breed resentment between parties. Doing Quests would not become a matter of actually doing them, but of being the one to actually claim the credit. Charlatans may run back ahead of parties, or just take out competitors in the field, in order to gather the juicy rewards.
Then there was the issue of monopolization of adventuring forces in the hands of the wealthy. Better paid Quests already received much more attention. This was logical and inevitable, and making it so parties could compete over them would leave fewer adventurers that were willing to take work that was comparatively poorly paid.
It was paramount that Quests were taken and fulfilled in an orderly fashion because of this. The involved bureaucracy was kept as minimal as possible to avoid further inefficiency, something every outpost had to evaluate and enact (successfully or not) individually. The fact was that the Adventurer’s Guild based their existence on being the one organization to assure that adventurers had no incentives toward killing each other.
A Contested Quest, effectively, authorized this incentive.
The Guild was reluctant to do this at the best of times. Contested Quests were one thing if the Quest was delivering milk to the other end of town. Even if the incentive to screw each other over in the race existed between the factions, they would be seen the entire time. A Contested Quest that was a trek across the entire world? One party could return, the other could not, and no one would ever know if there had been shady business.
The reason that the Guildmaster did this here wasn’t because he liked it, he did it because he feared it was the only way to save face. ‘Whoever I refuse this Quest will doubtlessly set out anyway and I can’t have the Black Quest market grow…’ Out loud, he presented a more optimistic message. “The Atlas party is a long-standing pillar of the local adventuring community, and no one would doubt the dedication that Apexus and his party members have for doing things correctly. Therefore, I trust that the only danger that will come in this Quest will be that of the journey itself.” Both party leaders grimly nodded. “The conditions are simple: whoever returns with the flower, said to be found at the bottom of the Trauma dungeon, will have completed the Quest. If the Inevitable does win, they will be awarded 50 Platin. If the Atlas Party does win, they will be awarded the sum they asked for.”
“It, uhm… will take me time to… liquify my assets…” Tarath muttered. “C-could… I can… if it must be done, I can transfer the land itself on short notice instead…? I-I will assure the other nobles will take no issue with this!”
Immediately, Atlas’ expression changed from annoyance to greed. He glanced at Alabasta, who was wide-eyed. 3000 Platin was a handsome reward, no doubt about it, but being landed in the Sleeping Empire was a different matter entirely – especially when a member of the party descended from an aristocratic family of the capital.
The estate of Lord Tarath lay just outside the current city borders of Drowse. In other words, it was predestined to skyrocket in value as the city continued to grow. What was being promised now was not a one time payment, it was tens of thousands of coins over the course of years through rent, agriculture, and land sales.
None of which Apexus had any interest in.
“When do we begin?” the humanoid chimera plainly asked.
“For fairness’ sake, both of you will set out in three days from the north street,” the guild master stated. “You are now dismissed to make your preparations. Everything past this point is up to you.”
_____________________________________________________________________
“Not gonna lie, I feel like we got swept up in something here,” Reysha stated her opinion once they were in the isolation of the Mobile Estate.
“Do you believe we should back down?” Aclysia asked, incapable of holding back the disapproval in her voice.
Reysha shook her head and plopped down on their couch. “Best I try, I ain’t as moral as you, ‘Clysia, but I can at least acknowledge that this is something good that we, specifically, are best situated to do. Korith, you don’t look convinced?”
“I, uhm… not a secret I really like money,” the kobold confessed to her desires. “I wouldn’t have pushed him as far as Atlas did, but… 50 is really not a lot of money, in the grand scheme of things? We’ll be on this Quest for months.”
“And we will be rewarded for it tremendously. Light will be our hearts and strong our Sparks,” Aclysia declared.
“I’d rather my purse be heavy…?” Korith tried her hand at a joke. It worked at dispelling the tension in the room. Reysha laughed heartily at it and Aclysia gave it a little chuckle.
Only Apexus did not laugh whatsoever. He was squatting in front of the fireplace, watching the fire he had started slowly spread around the log placed among the timber.
Aclysia joined him. “What is on your mind, darling?”
“I spoke emotionally,” he admitted. “I am reflecting on it.” The eyes on him bade him to elaborate on his thoughts. He had gotten a little better at speaking without being asked to. “My teacher’s lessons made it clear that emotions are good, as long as they are understood. One ought to speak their mind. I have spoken mine. I regret that the friendship we have built suffers for it. I do not regret the path that I have put us on.”
“Hey, you’re the leader, big guy,” Reysha assured.
“Y-yeah! I mean… I would love the money but… I’ll follow you on this,” Korith gave her agreement.
“We would have stopped you if we believed this path was unwise,” Aclysia whispered intently. “We follow the steps of virtue. If we must suffer for it, the suffering will be a lesson learned.”
Apexus nodded abruptly, then backed away from the fire. The conversation shifted to the couch. “This was not as we intended. However, it is time we return to growing in power rather than wealth anyhow,” the leader of the Inevitable party said and unfurled a map of Alarshus on the table. “Let us consider our route,” he said. “Aclysia, what paths are open to us?”
Aclysia grabbed a magical map marker and put three routes on the enchanted paper. Two kinds of magic worked together to create lines that would fade on their own in due time.
“I believe these are the three routes that are realistic for us. To begin my explanations.” She tapped on the water between Drowse and Altuan, where no route was going through. “Taking the sea route will be faster and safer for this first stretch, which I would usually embrace. However…”
“…our destination, the dungeon of trauma, is level 35 to 40,” Reysha finished the thought.
“The average of the Atlas Party is 31. Ours is 29,” Apexus added.
“Precisely. Our growth rate is higher than theirs so far. Yet, whether we can rely on that fact to stay consistent is irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. Us being stronger than them will not matter. I believe in their character. What we must concern ourselves with are the 6 levels between us and the dungeon of Trauma. Thus, the red route.”
Aclysia’s finger wandered to the Worldstem, where they were currently located, then followed the red path northwards.
“Venturing off the common path in Chimerion will provide us with untapped Incursions that will be appropriately challenging. We will then continue into the Vaults of Lightning Influence Zone, training as we travel. If necessary, we will stop at the easternmost of the three Vaults and clear the dungeon. Optimally, this will also provide Apexus with a new Growth.”
Korith raised a hand. “Question… two questions, actually. How will we know our level out there?”
“…We will not,” Aclysia admitted. “None of us are Scribes. We will have to intuit.”
“Okay… second question, how would we make it across the ocean there?” She gestured at the sizable divide between the Vaults of Lightning and the unknown Influence Zone east of it. “That’s a bit more than we can be carried across.”
“The winter will be our aid there. By the time we arrive there, that segment of the ocean should be largely frozen over. It will be unpleasant, but we can walk across,” Aclysia reported.
“Fuck, I forgot it’s going to turn winter while we’re out there,” Reysha groaned.
“We have plenty of equipment and, much as we moan about it, monsters are also affected by the season,” Aclysia said. “Furthermore, I may have a solution to cold-related predicaments. I cannot promise anything right now. What I can provide is further explanations on our routes.”
“Please,” Apexus requested and gestured at the map.
“The unknown Influence Zone should be fairly eventless. Despite the confusion on its dungeons, or lack thereof, it has been travelled repeatedly. In the Verdant Goliath area, we must avoid the free-roaming boss monster. I will stop in Respite for a moment and explain the blue route first.
“This second route is the simplest in terms of advancement. It is the commonly treaded path. Besides the major civilized areas, there will be minor frontier settlements on the route. This makes it quickest and safest – and thus against our interests. I do not recommend this route, but feel it prudent to mention it.
“Returning to Respite, we can follow either of the two routes from there. Continuing the common route will take us through the Influence Zone of the Temples of Temptations. It is considered an area with very few monsters. If we desire additional training, this route allows us another visit to a dungeon. If we do not, we can take the red route. It should be faster, although intel is somewhat scarce.”
“So far, sounds like we should go red until Respite and then switch to blue,” Reysha commented. “What about yellow?”
“Risky, for several reasons. First, we will need to secure a ship. I believe we have the necessary sway with the nobles of the Sleeping Empire to allow us this favour, but such an investment is costly. After that, we have to travel the Lanaan Hives. Our only training option here is entering Dungeons considerably above our current Level. If we pass this gauntlet, however, we will emerge with the certainty that we are strong enough to face the Trauma Dungeon.”
“Such a foreboding name…” Korith mumbled.
“It is especially prudent to mention that we will find ourselves on the south side of the Impossible Strait.” Aclysia tapped on that area on the map. “It is named such for many reasons. The current and airflow is horrid, and the sky teems with flying drones. A harsh winter would be to our advantage here. The insects would be staying in their hives.”
“Why not go south around the lake?” Apexus asked.
Aclysia hesitated for a moment. “It has been suggested that individual monsters from the Necro Lord’s Crypt are sometimes seen there during the winter.”
Even Reysha, the most brazen member of the party, understood that it made the area a no-go zone. A Level 15 gap was suicidal for a small party at most times. This, however, was more than just that gap. Level 50 was when adventurers unlocked their Common Art. Monsters on and past that level were created with this spike in power in mind.
It was safer to face a potential swarm to the north, than just one stray monster to the south.
“Your choice, darling?” Aclysia asked.
