CLA.S.S NEUTRAL: Stranger Is Coming

Unusual interlocutor. Difficult quest. Buns.

I went to the village, feeling light-hearted. Now I needed to learn how to use the sword at the master-level, and then everything would be fine. I decided not to identify it.

I was afraid that it would be, for example, of the fiftieth level, and then I couldn't use it at all, being at the tenth level, so I let it be as it was. There was also a strange sign on its handle, which I couldn't explore further.

The blacksmith was already working—blows of his hammer were heard even on the outskirts of the village. It was eight o'clock in the morning. The peasants were working in the field, and Narylna was sleeping. She had probably been collecting herbs at night. Damn, I'd forgotten to ask about the squealer and the Bony Something.

"Oh, here you are!" I heard the chief's voice as I passed by the tavern. "It's good! I would like you to talk to our guest, if, of course, you don't mind. If I were you, I would come quickly."

"No problem, Gromvald. What's the problem?"

"Well, a man has arrived and… You'd better talk to him. It's difficult to describe him. Do come in."

I didn't understand what the chief meant, but when I went inside, I got confused. Someone hardly resembling a man, dressed in a lush, colorful suit with a white collar—I'd seen the same in the old paintings in the museum—absorbed food greedily.

The chief and I sat down at another table and waited for this freak to finish his breakfast. We didn't have to wait long. He finished eating and turned to us. The man had a hooked nose, large front teeth, slightly peeking out from under the upper lip, and small eyes, staring at us with a haughty look. His red curly hair was combed in three directions, as if a bomb had exploded on his head. The last association nearly made me laugh, but I restrained myself as I didn't want to offend a person and judge him by his appearance only.

"I've been waiting for you, I hope," a rasping voice sounded. "I haven't found anyone in this village who wants to go to King Ragan and help him. I have been traveling around the country and independent lands for several months now. And all in vain."

"Allone helped our village, but I don't know if he'll want to help your king," said the chief. "Could you introduce yourself?"

"Haven't you told him about me yet? Well, it seems that I can't rely on anyone. However, it doesn't matter. I'm Kurbacht, a royal gatekeeper. My request is to help my king," his voice was so loud that I grimaced and barely restrained myself from plugging my ears.

"Could you speak much more quietly, otherwise I'm afraid, in ten minutes, I won't be able to hear anything at all?" I asked, making the man wince. Apparently, he considered it rude.

"As you wish," the gatekeeper said more or less normally. "So, if you are interested in working for a king, and you have intentions to visit the city of Kavarnak, as well as get housing and some privileges there, I ask you to go with me."

I thought for a while. Did I really need it? However, this was a chance to visit a big city, to meet a king, and to pump myself up a little.

"Well, I imagine that nothing bad will happen if I help you." I regretted I hadn't asked what I had to do, but it was too late now.

"Great! Finally!" the royal jester was delighted... I meant, the gatekeeper, and then he spoke in his squeaky, awful voice again, but then he changed it quickly.

What a strange NPC! In my opinion, he was too racy. The designers had overdone it. They had tried really hard, but his voice would discourage anyone from his quest.

"I'll go and tell my people to get my carriage harnessed. Glory to the gods. Finally, someone has agreed as even immortals have refused my request."

It was very strange, and goosebumps ran down my back, but my greediness was looking forward to making money and getting rewards, so I'd rely on it.

Well, hmm... I think I've got a little crazy and started talking to my inner voice. It seemed that I'd surely be in a madhouse before too long. Or maybe not.

The gatekeeper left, and I stayed alone with the chief. The innkeeper served me lunch and smiled, encouraging me to eat first, and only then to think.

"Be careful, Allone, there are various rumors about King Ragan, and they aren't good." The chief sighed. "Sorry I didn't mention it before, but this guy has hearing that any detective from the secret office would be envious of. Just remember, we'll always be happy to have you back in Oblivion."

"Thank you, Gromvald." I shook hands with the chief and shrank a little from such wording, as if I had heard something similar. "I'll visit you again. I won't forget about the quest, so don't worry."

"Thank you."

"Why are you still sitting there? We'll have breakfast in the carriage," Kurbakht said as he entered the tavern. What a strange name! "Let's go. The king has already been waiting for a month."

"I'm sure he could wait another couple of minutes." I smirked, making the man grimace, and the chief and the innkeeper smiled. Something didn't fit in this picture: he had said he had been going around for several months. It was strange.

"I'll be back soon. Take care of yourself. Death is always following me." I sighed. "And every time I feel her steps and turn around, she hides from me, preferring to take people dear to me instead."

My phrases seemed to frighten the villagers, but the fear quickly disappeared from their faces, and they smiled again. I shouldn't get attached to anyone, because my words aren't meaningless or just a pretentious phrase.

"We've looked into her eyes already, and we'll look again if needed. Do you agree, Gromvald?" the innkeeper grinned, rubbing the plate with a white rag.

"Of course, Morm," the chief stretched his neck and grinned. "I'd love to meet her. Her eyes are amazing, and her figure… is divine."

Saying goodbye to these pretentious warriors, I went out into the yard. The carriage was already waiting for us. It wasn't the best one I'd seen, but still, it wasn't a village cart. The wood carving depicting battles had been added superbly, but time had taken its toll. In some places, the thread turned into dust or was shredded.

The gatekeeper waved his hand toward me, and I climbed inside. The upholstered chairs were very comfortable, and, despite the rather simple design, they could easily be called luxurious.

Between the chairs there was a table with hot buns in a large bowl, so I hadn't been mistaken. Now I had time to relax. The carriage left, and we drove to Kavarnak.