The Renegades Page 22

  One way or another, there was a gender imbalance in Barliona which at times engendered inappropriate scenes around members of the female gender. The girls sitting at their books—a priest and a bard—simply clapped their hands over their ears in an attempt to concentrate on their reading. And despite this obvious sign that they weren’t in the mood to talk to anyone, they were periodically approached by the bored, idle players. I was not spared this sad fate either. As soon as I sat down and unfurl my scroll, an attention-starved mage named Lapushock sat down beside me.

  “Hey. What’s up?”

  I sighed to myself, regretting that Chip wasn’t beside me. His mere presence was enough to ward off any creeps. On top of this, the sight of a potential tank for one’s party typically diverted any public attention from me anyway.

  More than anything, I wanted to lock myself away somewhere near the librarian and calmly decipher the scroll, yet a promise I had made to myself long ago forbade me from sending him straight to the pircs. The thing was that most of my friendships had been with men and so I knew how difficult it was for them sometimes to collect their spirits and approach a girl they liked. And recalling the agonies of my friends in this matter, I promised myself to respond with as much friendliness as possible to such attempts in order to lower the number of insecure people in this world. A minute of conversation wouldn’t hurt me and my ‘suitor’ wouldn’t perceive the encounter as some kind of epic battle with a dragon.

  “I’m working on a class quest,” I lied amicably. Best intentions are best intentions but I’d like to complete the quest on my own. “I’ve been tasked with copying the scroll and that’s what I’m doing.”

  “Uh…” Lapushock drawled eloquently. “How’re you doin’ anyway?”

  This question stumped me harder than the scroll had.

  “Fine.” My reply was as meaningless as the question.

  “What, do you, like, play or something?” the mage asked nodding at my lute.

  “Yeah. I’m a bard.”

  “Can you play something?”

  Some other time I may have even indulged him, but I was way too interested in the riddle of the scroll and if I actually started to play in this place, all the other players would flood me with requests.

  “How about another time? The quest has a time limit. I have to finish it. I’m here every day anyway. I’ll play something another time.”

  “Sounds good, sounds good,” Lapushock agreed and to my relief moved on to jabber with some other group.

  Hardly had he stepped away when another took his place. The conversation was just as dull and devoid of substance, so when the seat next to me freed up again, I quickly waved at a hunter named Tell sitting at the neighboring desk.

  “Listen, can I sit down with you by any chance? I won’t bug you or anything. You can read in peace,” I begged in a whisper.

  “Why?” He didn’t understand.

  “So the guys don’t distract me from my quest.”

  “All right, why not,” he agreed and I quickly sat down next to him.

  “I owe you. When it’s time for you to go, let me know and I’ll give you a buff.”

  “Cool,” Tell instantly perked up.

  My new company practically eliminated any further attempts by randoms to get to know me and I finally got down to the work of decoding the scroll. The general hullabaloo in the library continued to interfere, making me sorry that the canopy of silence didn’t work in the contrary direction—blocking all the sounds from outside of it.

  My unhappy musings were interrupted by the appearance of a new character. In a lovely whirlwind, a biota with notable physical characteristics burst into the library: A perfectly-shaped face, enormous, green eyes, legs that sprouted straight out of her ears and a chest that would have made Toad kick me out of the band and take her instead. This beautiful creature had a strange name—Annastarriia—and she immediately became the star of the place. The attention of the various wandering players immediately zeroed in on her, and since the young maiden clearly welcomed such attention, everyone forgot about me and the other readers. In exchange for this, however, I had to now listen to the babble of the beautiful fairy, but this was the lesser of two evils. And when I finally figured out the principle behind the scroll’s encryption, I stopped noticing the background noise entirely. Soon enough I’ll be able to play the mysterious melody and figure out what’s concealed in it.

  My work went in starts and fits, but then suddenly it was like I’d been walloped in the head with a dusty bag. A terribly false plinking invaded my mind, accompanied by a tone-deaf singing that was closer to bleating than singing. This aural nightmare was supposed to be a serenade that one of the courters had dedicated to the biota of his dreams, who in turn was listening with evident pleasure.

  Maybe my own voice isn’t unimpeachable, but my ear is perfect! It was completely impossible to listen to this. Sparing a kind word for Coleus, I took up my lute and began to play quietly. A canopy of silence descended on the noisy revelers. Several readers whom the cacophony had distracted, broke into smiles, while a bard with the clever name ‘Brouhaha’ gave me a thumbs up. Meanwhile, the players inside the canopy’s shimmering dome began to take notice of it. While the majority stared at the mysterious phenomenon, one of the mages crossed the boundary of the canopy, assessed its effect and returning to his companions began to explain with much gesticulating what the canopy did. This gave rise to mass migrations in and out of the shimmering film, exclamations of wonder and astonishment. Someone started an argument about the purpose of such a spell and someone else began to experiment on the very edge of the canopy.

  The reaction of the quarantined bard and the biota babe, however, was far from enthusiastic. The bard stopped strumming his instrument and said something with a hurt look; however, due to the canopy, we could only assume that this was something along the lines of ‘don’t shoot the pianist if he doesn’t know how to play.’ The vibrant beauty, in turn, was clearly offended. Leaving the canopy that I had cast over the bard, she set upon me:

  “Who do you think you are? You think you’re smart or something? Why don’t you just admit that you’re jealous? You didn’t get any songs and now you’re salty!”

  To be honest, I’ve never known what to say in this situation. To argue with a dummy, you have to descend to her level. And how am I so confident she was a dummy? Well, intelligent people wouldn’t start pointless arguments. I had to resort to a tried and tested way of yanking the rug from under my assailant’s feet. Agree with her.

  “Yes, I’m envious,” I replied with all the sincerity I could muster. “No one has dedicated any songs to me and I’m very hurt. You shouldn’t flaunt your success in front of others. Find yourself an out of the way place and coo and caw there to your hearts’ content.”

  The girl, who had been ready to challenge any word I spoke, momentarily lost her gift of speech. There was nothing to argue with after all. Still, the fire of outrage continued to roil in her ample chest and she managed to find another issue to take offense at.

  “You’ve got a guitar yourself, but you have no respect for others! The boy was playing and you interrupted him! How about you wait your turn?”

  I have a lot of patience for all kinds of things, but when a vain bimbo orders me around… well…I find that vexing.

  “Got it,” I acquiesced. “Is it my turn now? I want to sing you a song too.”

  This sudden turn knocked the feet from under Annastarriia, but gathering her thoughts, she nodded magnanimously.

  “All right—let’s hear it.”

  I began to pluck the strings of my lute with a very serious look on my face, recalling a bit of Scottish-American alt rock:

  You pretend you're high

  Pretend you're bored

  Pretend you're anything

  Just to be adored

  And what you need

  Is what you get…

  Quiet snickering sounded around us and grew steadily to uproari
ous laughter as Annastarriia’s face paled with rage.

  Attention! You have unlocked a new ability: ‘Taunt.’

  Your performance can anger an enemy, goading her to act carelessly. The number of targets you may Taunt at once is equal to your Charisma. Enemies affected by Taunt, rush in your direction, wishing to crush their offender. Targets suffer +10% incoming damage, -20% to defense and -50% chance to identify traps. Your Attractiveness is decreased with the target by a variable amount.

  Effect duration: (Fame) seconds. Casting time: Variable. Cost of performance: None. Range: Variable. The target must be able to hear your performance.

  Ah! New abilities! It’s too bad this one’s fairly useless—I won’t ever be a tank in my wildest dreams so drawing aggro isn’t something I’ll need to do. But it’s nice all the same. Now I can acquire new abilities from thin air, as they say. I wonder how many hidden abilities there are to unlock and how much time unlocking them will take…

  Meanwhile, Annastarriia did not share my elation. An odd mixture of outrage, anger and hurt appeared on her face.

  “You…! Why you…!” her voice broke off, her eyes glinted suspiciously, and she exited the game without having properly unburdened her chest.

  I guess I’m a bad person to make a girl cry and rage quit. But I’ve always suffered from bad manners, what can you do?

  “And why did you do that?” Brouhaha inquired sourly from the neighboring table. “She was like a lightning rod, a real life-saver.”

  “My bad. I simply found her much too irresistible,” I confessed. “I confess my guilt: its breadth, depth and degree. And I humbly request that you send me to fight in the nearest war. And if there’s no war on hand, I’ll accept anything else: exile, a chain gang, incarceration! But please in the summer months and preferably somewhere that gets a lot of sun and has nice beaches.”

  Brouhaha burst into contagious laughter and waved her hand:

  “All right, all right. Your crime wasn’t that great. By the way, where’d you get that spell? I’m a bard too, but I haven’t encountered anything like that yet.”

  I looked her over with interest. She was Level 11 but I hadn’t noticed an instrument on her.

  “I persuaded my instructor to teach me—Coleus.”

  “Ah…I should give that a shot. I’m not studying with him.”

  “Hmm…Isn’t he the instructor for all the bards?”

  “I’m studying to be a circus dancer, so I have a different NPC as my instructor.”

  “Circus dancer? And what do you do?”

  “Whatever. Dances, tricks, a little gymnastics. I studied in circus school several years when I was a child, so I decided to give it another go now. It’s a lot of fun!”

  I tried to imagine the specialization of circus dancers and, honestly, found myself at a loss.

  “Listen, can I look at your training sometime?” I asked, holding my breath.

  “Why not? I’ll ask Daisy whether it’s okay with her. She’s already retired, but I convinced her to take me on, so our lessons are held in her home. As you can imagine, I can’t just invite someone without asking permission first. I’ll finish my reading here and go ask her. Then I’ll send you a letter.”

  “Can I bring friends too?” I asked. “No more than three. We’ll bring something—just tell me what Daisy likes.”

  “Not even a question. I’ll find out for you. But you owe me a demonstration of your own in return.”

  “Deal!”

  I didn’t get a chance to return to my study of the scroll. Stripped of the lovely Annastarriia, the would-be courters surrounded me. Some of them wanted to know about the canopy, some of them wanted me to ‘play something,’ and on the whole I wasn’t able to concentrate on my deciphering of the musical mystery. To be perfectly honest, I was even considering simply running away when an interesting idea occurred to me. Grabbing the scroll, I quickly dashed behind some shelves and as the curious gaggle was coming up behind me, activated my natural camouflage. It worked! I suppose the system considers the Tree and all its buildings a natural environment.

  “Hey, so what’s the deal with that spell?” A particularly prying mage asked one more time, entering my little hiding hole.

  “What the hell? Where’d she go?” asked a priest following on his heels.

  “Looks like she exited the game. I guess it’s too much to ask her to answer a couple simple questions…” the mage said bitterly, and the two friends returned to the rest of their ilk, bemoaning cold human nature.

  Once they were gone, I stole my way to the quietest corner I could find among the various stacks and tomes, unfurled my scroll and continued my painstaking investigation.

  After three more hours, I froze in anticipation. All that was left was to inscribe one last note on the parchment and then who knew what Barliona would open for me? The most powerful spell in the world? A unique quest? The ability to read the Tenth’s notes? I’m about to find out! The note took its rightful place and…Nothing happened.

  I frowned, trying to understand what the matter was. I thought I’d done everything right. The melody was clear in my mind, even if it sounded a little incomplete. Maybe that was the problem? The melody is unfinished and I have to come up with the coda? I peered into the scroll and noticed that its bottom edge wasn’t even—as if someone had cut off a piece of it there in a confident but not entirely accurate motion of a knife. It looks like I only have a part of the composition in my hands.

  I didn’t have anything left to do in the library, so I returned the scroll to its place and quietly slunk in the direction of the exit. There were a lot less players doing nothing now, but there were still plenty. In the city, the guards I came across followed me with suspicious gazes. No wonder. A citizen who is hiding (even if poorly) from strangers’ eyes, evokes suspicions about her motives. All the same, they didn’t bother stopping me and asking questions. I suppose, my friendly status and lack of a criminal record played their parts. Then again, it’s possible that creeping around like this wasn’t even an issue and this was merely the product of my fevered imagination.

  As promised, the pirc was laboring with a plane in his hands, fashioning the display cases for Orchidea’s shop.

  “Something tells me that carpentry is viewed a little suspiciously around these parts,” I remarked.

  The pirc jerked up his mug, turned it in the direction of the voice, squinted and bared his fangs in a friendly smile:

  “Ah! Our secret geek has returned.”

  “Why secret? Why geek?” I asked, baffled.

  “Because you were in the library geeking out and because you’re in stealth mode,” the pirc snickered with pleasure.

  “There’s something to that,” I was forced to admit, leaving my natural camouflage.

  “Well? Any luck?” Chip asked, returning to his work.

  “Hmm, how can I put it…It’s like I solved the riddle but now I don’t know what to do with the solution.”

  “Let me hear it. I’d love to hear it! Get that journal out too while you’re at it. Maybe we’ll see some change.”

  “That’s why I came here,” I nodded, taking out the score and arranging it on the display case. It’s no music stand, but it’ll do. I placed Cypro’s notes beside it, opened to a random page. What if the text begins to appear as I play?

  The lute’s strings sounded, arranging a pretty melody out of separate sounds. Unhurried and soft, it was better suited for a harp but sounded good all the same. Chip had even begun to hum to the tune—when suddenly the melody stopped, leaving behind only the sensation of something unfinished.

  “And that’s it?” the pirc asked with surprise, but I wasn’t listening. A system notification had appeared before my eyes:

  You have found the first fragment of Cypro’s Songbook.

  Quest available: Restore the Songbook. Description: Once upon a time, Cypro, the Tenth member of the Council, decided to share one of his songbooks with all the bards who liked solving myste
ries. An avid reader of myths and legends, Cypro enciphered a song and hid it amid the library’s thousands of histories. Only the most well-read bards, whose tenacious minds could decipher the script, would receive Cypro’s gift. Alas, it was not to be. A fragment of the scroll was lost and no one knows who could have snatched Cypro’s inheritance. Find a way to recover the lost melody or locate the villain who dared violate Cypro’s will—and restore the complete scroll. Quest type: Class-based unique. Restrictions: This quest may not be shared with another player. To recover a song from Cypro’s songbook, the player must possess a musical instrument that is at least rare. Quest type: Class Chain. Reward: Cypro’s songbook. +500 Reputation with the Biota, +40 Attractiveness with the Tree Librarian, +10 to Fame, +300 gold.

  “Oh come on,” Chip remarked to my prolonged silence. “Don’t lose hope. It’ll be interesting all the same. It’s too bad all your work didn’t help.”

  “I got a new quest!” I bragged. “I need to find the missing scroll fragment and recover the complete melody.”

  “Oh! The corncobs are on the case?” The pirc giggled. “You, uh…If some cabbage gives you attitude—let me know and I’ll help!”

  He brandished the plane in his hands:

  “I’ll peel it in a blink.”

  “If my charisma doesn’t bear fruits, we’ll try your way,” I promised, putting the notes back in my bag. “What do you say? Shall we take a break in meatspace and get back to our sacrifices tomorrow?”