LIGHTNOVELONLINE Chapter 8 - Part 1: Get Up --- Goes Around Arc
The Guild was filled by both morning people and the people that had gotten to morning by the other way around. Half a dozen drunks slumped on tables in the back while a crowd occupied the rest in keen attention. Fifteen or so grizzly men and women had formed a line in front of two overworked receptionists, one of which being Jane from yesterday.
Oh good. Jasson thought as he got in the line for Jane. I can apologize. Wow. This is gonna be awkward.
There’s nothing worse than making up after messing up, especially when the argument was with someone beautiful. But it does get easier (if more creepy) when said beautiful person isn’t able to run away. Jane couldn’t turn him away or abandon her desk while Jasson approached, only look murderously at him in the way of a coffee-less cashier. Her brown eyes glinted, ordering Jasson to ‘not push her’ with an unspoken professional politeness. It was too early in the day for a whining brat of a man, and there was a long line to get through.
On top of that, the Mountain behind the door had smiled at Jasson with tombstone teeth. A disconcerting experience for anyone smaller than a grizzly bear. The Mountain had searched Jasson’s soul with a grinning gaze, and Jasson felt that little muscle in his lower half quake in terror. Someone had told Jasson that the Mountain’s name was Grog, which fit the size but not the intelligence. How could he think of the Mountain as Grog while his soul was getting a full virus scan?
Finally, it was Jassons turn so he stepped up to Jane’s desk and said “Hey, I-”
“Do you have a quest to report completion on?” Jane said, “Or are you here to waste my time again.”
Jasson took a breath and said “I wanted to ap-”
“If you have no official business with the Guild I advise you leave until you do,” Jane said, looking past Jasson, “Next!”
No cap, was I really that rude yesterday? Jasson thought. Why is she so mad at me?
Wandering disheartened, Jasson found a mostly occupied table in the back. Sitting between a couple of passed-out drunks as he scrolled on his phone, Jasson felt overwhelmed. What was he supposed to do now? Just ignore what had happened and keep looking for quests?
The Guild was still busy, even after the thirty TikTiks Jasson had watched in line. If anything, Jasson had gotten ahead of the crowd. A rush hour full of adventurers who did not wish to be near cleanliness, never mind godliness. This meant that, despite the beautiful morning weather, the air inside had grown thick with airless heat and rank humidity. As if Jasson was in an overpacked Gym class. The windows were flung wide as humidity condensed on the cold mugs of ale nestled in the hands of rowdy men. Air crystals in the Chandeliers did their slovenly best to move the sticky mass as lightly washed men and women fanned their faces.
The Quest Board, an extra-long corkboard filled with a dozen flyers, was mildly bustling with adventurers at the moment. These adventurers perused the quests like a dad puttering in the garage, looking for something to do more than something to make money with.
No real urgency, Jasson thought, yet there’s so many people here. Why? I wish Petra were here.
Petra had explained only a couple of things. She and Clara couldn’t officially register with the guild or spend a lot of time there. It was too risky so they’d stick to using a mediary, which was common enough practice for criminals from other lands. Hopefully, the Guild wouldn’t be too suspicious and the twins could avoid discovery. So Jasson needed to go to the guild every day and grab high-value quests, hopefully getting ones that would be enough to start construction. Winter was coming after all.
Jasson decided that he’d go grab a quest after scrolling for a bit. The signal in here was fantastic, the highest he’d ever seen since the army camp. Full bars. Yet TikTik still loaded slower than Jasson thought. Jasson ran a speed test.
25 Mbps. How? Jasson had full bars of signal but the speed was no better than when he was being guarded by Clara last night. That had only been one bar!
Jasson gave up understanding his phone and dug the light gem out of his pocket. It no longer looked like a headphone jack, having transformed back once Jasson removed it. Jasson pressed it to the charging port and waited.
Doot
Jasson had been charging his phone for hours but all he had to show for it was a measly twenty-five percent battery life. This wouldn’t be a problem if the battery lasted like it did for the past two days. Unfortunately, for some reason, the phone could barely make it two hours now before getting dangerously low on power. Jasson had already drained it to fifteen percent while in the bathroom earlier and was determined to build the charge up to a nice forty percent before the day was out.
Suddenly there was a commotion as people surged to the Quest Board, standing and swamping together like a mega sale on Black Friday. Jasson looked up in shock as he saw people struggle deeper into the fray. A few people waved papers, quests Jasson realized, over their heads as they wrestled their way out. Someone tried to grab a claimed quest from another person’s hand, and the room was about to devolve into chaos when suddenly Grog was on the move.
For the first time, Jasson saw Grog stand. The mountain snapped his book shut like thunder from the heavens and Grog lay the book on a side table. Then, with the creak of springs, Grog folded down the foot of his recliner until it clicked into place like a loaded gun. Finally, with a groan so deep Jasson felt his shoes shake, Grog stood.
Then Grog kept going up. In his past life, Jasson had seen an animatronic version of the world’s tallest man (Robert Wadlow). Grog was like that man, but less ‘skinny as a rail’ and more ‘there’s a bit of fat on more muscle than an Olympic weight lifting competition’. Jasson expected Grog’s first step to splinter the wood of the Guild’s floor, but instead it landed softer than a chinchilla. For a giant in heavy boots that would make Mother Goose a mansion, the gentle footfall was a shock. Disturbing even. Suddenly, with two more silent steps, Grog arrived at the conflict.
By this point, only a few particularly hot-headed men were still squabbling. The rest had fallen silent and turned to watch. Some didn’t move out of the way for fear of losing their place, others lost the game of chicken and scampered aside. Which was hardly necessary.
Grog reached over the heads of the crowd, not even bothering to shoulder his way in. Grog then plucked, daintily even, one of the squabbling men and lifted him level with Grog’s eyes. The man’s shoes dangled a foot above the heads of the crowd.
“Hello there,” the mountain rumbled in a strange accent, “I can see that you are in a particularly energetic mood today Jeffery. Your enthusiasm sometimes does you credit. But not this time. This guild operates on a first-come, first-served basis. Any violation will see your privilege revoked. Oh! I see that you have a violation in your hands. Care to give it back?”
Grog moved Jeffery like a doll, positioning him in range to hand the quest back to the original owner. Jeffery did so with considerable alacrity.
Grog lifted Jeffery up again and said “Good. Additionally, as I keep telling everyone; any fracas or disorderly conduct that exceeds the statute of limitations will incur a penalty. This penalty will have you removed from the premises at the end of my boot. In that event, I will personally throw you from the premises and you may be allowed to petition the Guild once you sail back across the channel.”
Wow, Jasson thought, it’s not like I expected single-word grunts but…dang. I thought he’d be less talkative.
“Umm,” Jeffery said, “Channel? Do you mean the moat around the city? Like ‘I’ll throw you out so far that you’ll clear the moat’?”
“Did I say moat?” Grog looked around, “I do not believe that I said moat. I said channel. A channel is a length of water wider than a strait, joining two larger areas of water, especially two seas. It’s basic nautical knowledge. I was threatening to throw you all the way to Mance across the Greenish channel. That’s hundreds of miles, not the scant quarter of which it would take me to throw you past the moat. Honestly, the education system these days is shameful.”
“Uhh,” Jeffery said, “We don’t have an edyoukaychion system.”
“Oh that’s right,” Grog sighed, “I keep forgetting. Well, I trust you to get along nicely now. Go on.”
Grog lowered Jeffery to the ground, then turned his back to the rest. Order had been restored and Grog walked back to his recliner. This time his footsteps sounded against the planks like great mallets of leather. With another groan, Grog sat and put his feet up again before grabbing his book.
“You there,” Grog motioned to Jasson, “Bring me a fresh one from the bar. This morning is proving to be a headache.”
Jasson had never noticed a bar in the guild, only the people nursing drinks. This was an undesirable state as Jasson’s monkey brain was telling him to do what the Gigantopithecus said as quickly as possible. Jasson looked around, panicking slightly as he saw no signs of either bar or fresh one.
“It’s down the hall to the left,” Grog said, “That connects us to the Guild Tavern next door. They don’t advertise it with a paint job, but we have our own bar. Red and gold are work colors, not resting ones. Go on, tell them Grog sent you. They’ll charge me later.”
Giant men have a distinct advantage when it comes to giving orders to random people. Namely that the deep voice bounces between the halves of the brain, knotting the organs into an origami of compromise.
Fair enough, haha, Jasson thought, He’s got a book to read and I’ve got nothing to do. And it’s hot, so of course he needs a drink. Haha. Who am I to judge a twelve-foot-tall man who wants to drink beer in the morning?
Jasson found the hallway easily enough, and as he passed through he recognized a couple of doors.
“Ooh,” Jasson said, “this is where the bathrooms are.”
Jasson kept going through the short hallway, emerging into a low-ceilinged room thick with sticky-sweet humidity. Like the quest side of the Guild, tables filled the Guild Tavern in almost every corner. Except instead of a refined and ordered counter there were a dozen barstools along a polished bar of dark wood. Behind the counter was a thickly mustached bartender who nodded to Jasson.
Jasson approached the bar and the barman said “You look a little young for drinks and too nervous for food. I take it Grog sent ya?”
Feeling like a little kid, Jasson nodded. Then, as if to reclaim his pride, Jasson said “I’m almost eighteen. I turn eighteen in September.”
“That’s fine,” The barman said, “Our legal age for drinking is half a beard and twenty-one years. No idea why it’s so old when people are considered adults at sixteen here, but that’s just the way it is from the powers that be.”
Jasson nodded and the barman reached below the counter, pulling out a five-gallon tankard. Then the barman bustled, whistling while mixing bottles and other ingredients into the massive flagon. Jasson realized that he would have to carry it with both hands and he started flexing his fingers as it kept filling. Shouldn’t the barman leave it less full? It’d slop over at this rate.
“Here,” the barman said as he latched a lid onto the top, “Just don’t take a sip of it. Grog has resistance to poisoning, so the alcohol content has to be off the charts. I’m surprised he asked for this though. Usually, he wants tea in the morning.”
“There was a…uh…fight?” Jasson said, trying to maneuver the tankard. It weighed fifty pounds at least.
“That would explain it,” the barman said, “Now I’m sad that I put such quality ingredients into this one.”
“Why?” Jasson said, lifting the tankard onto his hip.
“Because,” the barman leaned over, “He’s just trying to intimidate the adventurers, not actually get soused. His drunken rage is infamous, see? So they’ll tread lightly and he’ll heal off when they’re not looking. I keep arranging code words for him, but he never remembers to use them. Always has his head in a book. Ah well, there’s more where this came from for tonight. Off with ya.”
Jasson staggered back towards Grog, the handles biting into his fingers as he got into the hallway. Jasson set the tankard down and huffed, shaking the blood back into his hands. They needed some kind of dolly for this, or maybe a cart. Once Jasson felt ready he found a better grip and put his back into it, waddling back into the quest side of the guild. When he got in the room Grog pointed at him.
“Come on boy,” Grog said, “It’s been an age. Don’t dally.”
Irritation tends to disappear in the face of a water-bottle-sized finger, and Jasson somehow managed to carry it all the way to the foot of Grog’s table. Before Jasson could throw his back out and lift it on top of the table, Grog snatched it casually and popped the lid off with his thumb. Grog took a deep pull, then groaned and sagged back into his chair.
“That’s the stuff,” Grog eyed Jasson, “These trouble makers have a man going to the pint before the sun has made its welcome known. You’re not gonna join them are you?”
“No sir,” Jasson said, butt clenching as the giant leaned too close towards him, “I learned my lesson. Just want to apologize to Jane and keep my head down.”
Oh dang, Jasson thought, his breath smells like pure liquor.
“I see you’ve grown fractionally wiser,” Grog said, grinning with tombstone teeth, “you were close to getting in trouble yesterday. You want to apologize to Jane, right? She might be rushed right now, but she gets off at the hour. They called her in because the other attendants called out sick.”
Grog took a pull then said “Of course, everyone knows that they’re just attending a baby shower. You might lose your eyebrows if you go talk to her when she gets off, or at worse find your ears falling off. Of course, if it comes to that then we’ll heal you up. So it’s probably worth the risk since she won’t kill you instantly.”
Jasson felt that this was perhaps not the best idea.
“Is there any other way?” Jasson said.
Grog shrugged and said “She’ll probably split shift and come back in the evening. If you can finish a quest by then, you might be able to apologize when she’s not able to hurt you. You might even make up for your fracas yesterday, putting you one step closer to Pine Class.”
Jasson walked to the board, stepping on scattered fragments of paper as he perused his choices. Unfortunately, Jasson couldn’t read. He tried to use TrainSlate, but text came out of order unless he scanned and waited for every single one. Giving up, Jasson grabbed one at random. He just needed to complete a quest. Besides, he could just put it back if he didn’t want to take it, right?
Jasson had his phone read it. Basically, it was a pest extermination task for a family’s attic, with a copper coin per head and one silver on completion.
Jasson shrugged and said, “I’ll be fine. Now…how the heck do I find ‘The Harrisons by the baker on Cogswick Street’?”