Chapter posted: 31st May 2020
Chapter 16 - Shadows and Celebrations
The Royal Palace was a hive of activity, noble guests dotted on by an army of servants.
Hundreds of lamps from sconces to chandeliers decorate its halls and pathways. An unending deluge of food streamed from the kitchen to the main hall where most of the guests gathered. Servants dressed in finer clothes than she owned busied themselves with work. The party was lively and loud.
Nobles dressed in fine silks chatted, joked and bragged with each other as they sipped on fine wine. Most of them were clad in gorgeous songket, bright and colourful in mesmerising patterns. The prince and his bride stood out amongst the crowd of the rich and beautiful, both wearing bright gold and smiling as newlyweds do. They were stars amongst stars.
The champion of the tournament was himself a rising star. He looked no different from the NPCs surrounding him in terms of stature and colour, dressed in similar attire with a cup of wine in hand. He was known simply as 'the Kid', and was a ferocious fighter with a mastery of dual weaponries. He was retelling the tale of how he defeated his giant opponent for the umpteenth time that night.
"You know, that was a really tough fight. The big guy hits really hard with that tree of his. But you know what they say. The bigger they are, the smaller their brain."
The warrior caste nodded in agreement and the ladies were most impressed. Ser Caibre, the famous errant knight, toasted him in good health.
On one side of the hall, a bard was regalling the tale of Farris, the First Knight and companion of Aincradius. He sang of the tales of chivalry to the delight of the Granum visitors. They nodded and were pleased to hear the tale of their ancestor who ruled the kingdom with justice and mercy.
On the other side of the hall, another bard went on to sing about the Fisherman who fed and sheltered Aincradius at his lowest point after a disastrous battle. He alone ferried Aincradius' forces across the rivers from his enemies. Aincradius would return years later and bequeathed his descendants the rule of the realm and named them the Lord of Rivers. The Nadyah people would serve him as loyal sailors and soldiers.
The servants brought out the cake to a round of applause. The wedding cake was an almost faithful replica of Agra Nagara. The walls were made from wafers, the roofs shaped with cream, covered in the cement that was chocolate. The prince cut two slices. He fed his new wife his slice and the princess proceeded to smash hers into his face.
The party erupted in laughter. The princess licked bits cake off her husband's cheek which resulted in much hooting and hollering. The prince was blushing pink under all the cake.
Such displays of affection sickened her. Did they have no decency? What is this, a stupid rom-com? She hated it. She hated all of it.
"Argo-senpai, your face is red."
"What? Oh no, that's just the weather."
A senior servant barked at them for idling. Argo and Alicia went about picking plates and wiping tables. They had been at this since evening.
It had been quite a busy few weeks for the staff of the Argo Weekly. Production ramped up as the newspaper decided to expand on different things; ads, player submitted guides, QAs, and so on. It was only a matter of time before the Argo Weekly would require more players to join the staff but Yahiko was capable of holding down the fort so far. The Survival Guide was also getting more and more content, so much so that it went from a booklet into something akin to a magazine. Such work was completely beyond her. That's why she had an editor in the first place.
While Yahiko did the actual running of her business, she did what she did best: being a complete busybody.
They had done what Garbo had asked them. They took the chest he had been given back on Floor 1 to Floor 11 at a village called Jungle's Edge and gave it to the mayor. The mayor then unlocked it through arcane means (neither of them saw how he did so), only to produce a smaller chest.
They were then instructed to send this chest to various other destinations, including other villages, ruins, temples and the like. And. Every. Single. Time. It was just a smaller chest. By the fifth visit, she shoved the duty off to Alicia.
"There aren't even any enemies to fight!" she told her assistant while they were having lunch on the 8th floor, just returning from a ruin on the 7th. "You do the thing, I'll do some other stuff and get back to the guide. We're running behind schedule."
"Don't worry, Argo-senpai, I won't let you down!" she said. She took the chest and off she went.
The moment she left, some random guy offered money to sleep in a nice carriage with only the slight risk of death.
"Money for sleeping? Heck yeah!" She took the job on the spot.
When she woke up, she met the FuurinKazan of all people. Though she would never admit it, Argo was glad it was Klein and his crew. The man was reliable, professional, and competent. He had earned quite the reputation being both monster hunter and bodyguards.
She found Alicia in the residence, waiting for her. "How did you hunt me down?"
"Coincidence. I was actually finishing up my job here." She had the smallest chest by far on the coffee table before her. "The next destination is on Floor 13, and unless the Clearers have finished up business here, I'd doubt we'd be going up there anytime soon."
"Good! Now we won't have to anymonre of Garbo' dumb errands. Have you tried figuring out what's in the box?" There was only thing both of them knew about the content of the chest and that was at certain times during the night, it became very warm.
"Last time I tried it gave me a nasty shock, so no more trying thanks. Anyway, we got another mission from Garbo in the meantime. Pays really well. Wanna go to a party?"
If only Argo had known …
So here they were, working their butts off as servants, as mean people yelled and scolded at him to do work. They were supposed to be guarding the king not serving Sir Whatshisface of Whereever-the-Hell-burg another glass of wine. She'd rather fight wolves barehanded over this dumb minimum wage crap.
"You know, when you said party, I was expecting some good food, maybe some good music, not chores."
"Oh, I don't know, this is quite the unique experience! Father did say I should try everything once."
"You missed a spot," said one of the senior servants as she inspected Alicia's pile before placing it into Argo's pile.
Argo was flabbergasted. "Why can't you wash the plates clean?!" she whispered angrily.
"We had servants in our home to do it!"
"You had servants?!" Argo controlled herself. "We need to go right now before I have permanent dishwasher hands."
It took the tripping of some poor servant boy carrying a tray of food for a distraction. The kitchen was filled with a loud crash as Argo's tactically placed dishwashing soap made the ruckus. When the senior servants started yelling, both girls exited, stage left.
They were in the dark and far enough from the main palace compound, hiding in the bushes. They moved from cover to cover, bush to tree to boxes, as they made their way to the royal apartments. They evaded the watchful eyes of guards, making their patrols. They were high level, but couldn't spot the two girls thanks to their own high Stealth skills.
They came to a stretch of land large enough they couldn't sneak past in shadows.
They spotted a couple of guards by the bridge, a small river separating their destination from the rest of the inner compound.
"This is the only way through. We could swim, but I'm not in the mood of getting soaking wet," said Argo.
"I got this," said Alicia with an evil smile. She produced two cups from her satchel bag and a bottle of wine. She filled the cups, and from a small box she took leaves, crushing them in the palm of her hand and sprinkling them into the drink.
She walked out right in the open, much to Argo's surprise. She walked them up with swaying hips, and even from a distance, Argo could tell Alicia's voice was higher pitch than normal. The guards graciously accepted the wine and finished them in a gulp, handing back the cups.
It took only half a minute for them to pass out. Argo helped her drag the guards into the bush. "Don't worry, they'll be knocked out until tomorrow afternoon. We've plenty of time."
"Aren't those the same cups you use to make my tea?"
"Don't worry about it!"
They stripped the guards; it was an automatic thing, they didn't actually physically remove their clothes, merely opened their UI and the guards' clothes appeared on the ground neatly folded, leaving them in their small clothes. It fitted them perfectly despite the fact that both guards were men and were half a foot taller than them.
"Good ol' video game logic," said Alicia.
They crossed the bridge as casually as possible, turning their faces from the guards or going the other way. There were guards further away with lanterns, making their patrols. She was glad there weren't any dogs around.
Stealth in SAO was mostly relegated to not being seen. Camouflage, darkness, silence - the art of staying out of sight. Argo's character build relied on agility, climbing, jumping, squeezing into tight spaces. She hanged from windows and spied from treetops. Being her high school's best reporter, she was adept at sneaking into places where she wasn't supposed to be. She could never really act to get her way, so she made do with parkour.
Alicia was the opposite. She sweet talked, bribed, blackmailed people into getting her way. She recalled one time where they were taking the chest to a bandit camp, she threatened to prick one of the bandits with her needle with the same ant poison she used on Nongae. Actually, anytime things didn't go her way, that was her fallback. She couldn't complain that it didn't work.
Yahiro did say they would complement each other's abilities. She had issues talking her way into things, Alicia can't even do a single pull up. NPCs were a different beast altogether, inflexible compared to the average player.
And her tea was really good.
"The trick to blending in with disguises," said Alicia, "is to pretend that you belong there in the first place. So you know, try not to punch other servants in the face for being rude."
"He yelled at me for missing a spot when I already cleaned it in the first place!"
She sighed. "How on earth were you the school reporter?"
They stood before the personal wing of the palace. It was easily bigger than Argo's entire flat block, grand and beautiful even to someone with no appreciation to architecture such as her. The entire building stood upon poles of strong timber, the base covered with carved rock. The window covers were door sized and the bottom half were covered with railings. Warm light glowed from within.
Another two guards were at the front entrance, standing in front of carved stone stairs. Argo's HUD flashed a ? in regards to the level, but she could tell they were easily twenty something levels above her. They wore swords in their sarong.
"Alright, Argo-senpai. Now you do the thing."
"I don't think it's a good idea to practice in such a hostile situation."
"Sink or swim," she said and pushed her forward, nearly tripping her.
Argo shot a glare and whispered through her teeth. "Hold on, I don't know how to do this!" Alicia was suddenly very interested in the design of the support beams.
"State your business now, rookie." They both loosened their blades from their scabbards. At least the disguise was working.
Ah, dammit. "We've come as extra security!" she said. "Big party, you know how it is. Gotta keep watch over the old man."
"Old man?" The second guard's voice had a hard edge to it. "You dare refer to His Royal Majesty as 'old man'?"
"And I don't recognise you," said the first. "Which unit are you from?"
"Uhhhh." Shit shit. "Yes, old man! Like my grandfather. You see, the king is like a grandfather to me. And uh …"
She then spun up about some sad story about a fictional battle which killed her non-existent NPC father and the king, in his kindness, paid much to the survivors of the family, for the king was most noble that way. She went on to describe her father who died in the Battle of You Know, That One Raid at That Forest, yes! Forever thankful, she wanted to serve the king personally and even if she couldn't do so in time this was the least she could do even if it wasn't on schedule.
"And … and … I've worked really hard for this position, and the captain said it would be fine for me to do this, just for the one time!" She had tears in her eyes, which she forced herself to create by pinching herself really hard. "Do you understand?"
The guards were quiet, judging, and eyes cold. Then one of them relaxed his shoulders. "Fine. Go on ahead."
They fast walked up the stairs and into the apartment.
Alicia let out a sigh. "Whew, that was close!"
"No thanks to you!" It was like that stupid theater thing she did minus script.
"It was good amateur the bit where he bravely fought off the Goblin Raider Commander on their Bear Cavalry might be too much."
"You weren't helping."
"I already had my needles dipped in tranquiliser coating, so we were good regardless."
The aparment's living room was unsurprisingly large and lavish. It was filled with beautiful carved furniture in floral patterns and figures of heroic legends. The living room had an upper and lower level with the upper with books and musical instruments and the lower having lounge couches.
On the other side were displays of weapons and armour locked behind glass. One side of the wall was dominated by the skeleton of some creature, long and elongated like a snake but with the jaws of a crocodile. Hanging from the ceiling was a great bird of prey. A rug of a massive direwolf splayed on the floor. It was a combination of a trophy room and living space. It had no china, no frilly curtains or vases of flowers. It was a warrior's lounge and this space was a testament to that.
The apartment itself was dark saved for a handful of light sources. Guards walked and patrolled with tekpis sheathed and servants walked about finishing their duties. It was only five minutes past ten.
The girls walked past, nodding at others, trying to fit in. That's right, she was no longer Argo the Rat, info broker and owner of the Argo Weekly. She was Argo the Guard, doing patrols, like some lame players guarding camp instead of clearing dungeons.
The apartment split into two, a large open walkway exposed to the outdoors, which was connected to the royal rooms where the king slept. The wind blew softly.
Two large doors, twice as wide as normal doors and twice as pretty, expectedly guarded. Even the sconces were different; lighting up with the same magic crystals the chandeliers had. Argo had many times tried to steal them from wealthy homes but they never seemed to work very long after being disconnected.
Two guards flanked the doors with polearms with wicked blades, one side a curved edge and the false edge numerous serrated blades like a saw. It reminded her somewhat of a short naginata. Another two were right across them, armed similarly. They saw them, but said nothing.
Both girls retreated to a side room, a servant quarters of sorts. There were servants resting, reading, doing embroidery. None paid any attention.
"What now?" asked Alicia. "Those guards will likely have higher clearance than us, and I doubt we can just waltz in." Argo had no doubt that the moment she did something wrong, those polearms were going to decapitate her in one swing.
"Let me think, there must be a way to do this," said Argo. She looked outside the window, a guard tower overlooked the side of the apartment. She looked at the servants and the textiles they have on the table.
"I have an idea."
The trip was an hour long, a far cry for the day plus travel she did on foot.
For the duration of the trip, Sinon was suddenly transported back to the real world. The feeling of being on commute hit her like a slap to the face, except it was a boat and not a subway. She ran a hand through her brown hair, the blue dye gone after a quick wash at the workshop's bathroom.
They were on a long underground river, stretching all the way back to the capital. The path was mostly straight save the odd tree roots that blocked the way. Unrecognisable fish swam below. The headlights on the boat were as bright as a car's and powered by some arcane means.
At first she thought it was a sewer of sorts, having the same sort of architecture as the sewers of the big cities where rookies cleared the underground of slimes, giant rats and the odd goblin tribe. But the river was clean, cleaner even than the rivers outside. Sewers by design were never clean.
Yet they kept their crossbows loaded for any danger, months of dungeon diving sharpened their senses to a heightened degree. They could be attacked by hostile riverlife or goblins or worse.
The boat was spartan, having more in common with modern fishing boats than the ubiquitous sampans on this level. There were oars on both inner sides but they were unnecessary.
There was something pulling the boat, a loop of chain at the bow of the boat dropping into the water, working like a front engine. It even sounded like an engine. The only control needed was a rudder which XaXa commandeered. Manis proposed it was mechanical fish of sorts, which sounded a lot more complicated than a basic engine. Then again, was it anymore complex than other mechanical animals the Forge Master made?
The stone walls were quickly replaced with dirt walls and the ceiling was dirt propped by wooden beams. The rest of the journey was quiet and uneventful.
They exited a tunnel and drove into tall grass. It was night and darkness enveloped the realm, Sinon immediately felt at ease.
The tunnel deposited them at a creek, a ways away from the main riverways. The palace itself was on an island and the river surrounding it acted as a moat. She could spot royal rivercraft anchored at a nearby dock.
The three players grabbed their kit and snuck up the hill, the compound wall imposing and swarming with guards. A few minutes of sneaking and they were in a storehouse filled with what can only be described as junk. Rusty tools and weapons were piled high in a haphazard way. It was like no one had taken a broom to it in years. XaXa beckoned them to head up the stairs.
The second floor was similarly messy but in one corner were deliberately placed rows of crates and shelves. A dirty rug hung from one. XaXa pulled it, revealing a makeshift bedroom. A hammock, a chair and a crate turned table were its furniture, it was spotless clean. There were bottles of wine around, all full. XaXa had been here for a while.
XaXa took a sackcloth out of a barrel and they all changed into their disguises.
"There, that wasn't so hard was it? Sneaky as sneaky can be," he said, his gravelly voice tinged with that awful sense of humour.
XaXa lit a single candle and that was sufficient for their sharp eyes. He took out a sheet of paper from under his pillow and stuck it to the wall with thumbtacks. It was a map of the palace grounds. There were scribbles of names, crosses, circles and arrows. A timetable fit neatly into one corner of the map. It was very detailed and had a lot of effort put into it.
Manis whistled. "Well would you look at that. Good work, XaXa."
"What can I say, I'm an artist."
Sinon glanced at the time, it was nine pm. The boat ride took an hour. Dawn came at five a.m, always.
Eight hours. They had to guard the king for a full eight hours.
"By the way, I sketched the king. Might be a little inaccurate, only saw the old man from afar." XaXa pulled out another piece of paper. It was a charcoal drawing of an old man in his eighties. He was bald with spots on his head, skin pulled tight around his skull, with a beard so long it might have well reached his chest. He looked sad and tired.
The three conceived of a plan. XaXa took the lead of the discussion considering he had been on the palace grounds for a few days already. He knew the guards, the staff and their routes. The fact he was able to keep quiet and stay under the noses of all the security was a testament to his skill, as much as Sinon was loath to admit it. Though she had never seen her comrades' sheets, she knew for a fact that XaXa probably had one of the highest «Sneak» skills of their entire group.
"Private messaging is disabled, the game considers the palace grounds a dungeon. So we'll need to improvise ways to talk amongst ourselves both nearby and long range," said XaXa. "Any ideas?"
Manis snapped his fingers. "I got ideas."
The sign language Manis cooked up was pretty simple. Some basic one handed gestures, Morse code via coughs, taps of the foot, and the like. The real difficulty was trying to memorise it in such a short amount of time but Sinon prided herself as a quick learner. It took ten minutes but Sinon and XaXa were sure they had gotten the basics down.
Manis brought a fist to his lips and blew slightly. It made a sound like a bird. "If we hear that, we come rushing as quickly as possible. One whistle, everything's fine. Two whistles, come and check it out. Third, we're under attack."
"The bodyguards might come and investigate it themselves," said Sinon. Sinon had done burglaries and break-ins before; the average militiaman can be as dumb as a bag of rocks and these royal guards weren't.
"Use it sparingly then. Oh, and take these." Manis took out something from his pocket: a couple of stones. They were covered in something like crystal.
"What's this then?" XaXa picked one up. "Oh, it's warm."
Manis smiled. "They're called brightstones. All you gotta do is rub em' like this …" Manis palmed it with his hand, squeezing it, "... and ta-da!" The brightstone shone, like a little LED light.
"Pretty cool," said XaXa. "We use em' like signals."
"Bingo. They're not torch bright by any means, and they only last a few seconds, but use this with a hand mirror, and you got yourself a nifty little signal."
"What about you, ice girl? Brought anything to the table?"
Sinon pondered on this. She didn't have XaXa's map nor Manis' communication skills. But she did have one thing. Reaching for her sack, she pulled out her crossbow.
XaXa raised an eyebrow. "Nice. Don't recognise it though. What quest did you get this from?"
"It's the second place tournament prize in the crossbow category. It's small and light enough any of us could use it," she said.
"Yeah, but is it quiet?"
Sinon spanned it by hand, the bowstring light and almost elastic-like. Even a child could span it. She dry-fired. The sound the bow made was the equivalent of someone clapping their hands. A far cry from Vanator which sounded like someone dropping garbage bins from a height eveytime she shot it.
"Brought a few tranq bolts too, just shoot them in the limb. Anyone want it?"
"No need, my «Unarmed» is good enough I can knock people out reliably," said Manis.
"Alright. Dibs it is. Seeing as I'm most familiar with the patrols, I'll do that."
XaXa took the crossbow from her and she had to force the uncomfortable feeling down when it was taken away. "Don't worry, ice girl. I'll take real good care of it. And I'll be non-lethal, I swears it."
She focussed on the map. "I'll get up the tower somehow. I'm the best shot in this group. I'll bring Vanator up with me."
Everyone had their crossbows disassembled and wrapped in linen; to lug around a fully assembled crossbow would be too conspicuous, even in the dark. Sinon began to assemble hers.
"Not good enough to be number one in the tournament though," he smirked.
Manis grabbed her by the shoulder before she could do something regrettable. "Alright, alright. You do the patrols, XaXa. I'll help Sinon here get up the tower."
"See ya later. Try not to die."
Some people thought pumping points into «Athletics: Climbing» was useless outside of scouting builds, that city based players don't actually need to be all that agile. Some people also thought they never need to put points into «Athletics: Swimming» because they're not gonna go fighting near a body of water either.
Some people were a bunch of dumbasses. Look who's laughing now!
"Argo-senpai, are you laughing?"
"Shush, Alicia. This is my method of focusing."
"Of course, senpai. Try not to be too loud."
They had taken as much fabric as they could from the place without being obvious. Bed sheets, tablecloths, towels, servants' clothes, all of which they had ripped wholesale and turned into makeshift rope. The roof had little in the way of holds so they improvised with some more: a grappling hook made from a bunch of chair legs that Argo broke and wrapped together with cord. It was an effort to assemble it quickly and quietly in an abandoned bedroom.
With a practiced throw the grapple hooked onto something sturdy and solid wincing at the audible thunk it made. It looked like no one heard it. A few tugs and both of them were up and climbing.
Argo found herself up first. The location they climbed was at a blindspot where the nearest tower couldn't see them and far enough that the further tower would have trouble seeing. Even then they had to wait for the night to darken just a bit more, enough for the moon to be obscured by clouds.
The game recognised that she was in stealth, and a little bar appeared in her HUD, one end black and one end white, the middle a spectrum of gray. She could see the guards below her, their alert status set into the [PATROL] routine. If she messed up it would go into [ALERT], and then the [SEARCHING] would begin.
Alica was up and they brought the rope up as quickly as possible. The guards' alert status didn't even change a bit.
They clambered up the roof, the acute angle of the roof meant they had to tiptoe and craw across the tiles. Going any faster would attract attention. They were at the edge of the roof where the apartment split into two buildings.
They had to cross the beams to reach the bedroom. Argo was sure to go quickly, hoping that no one looked up. So they walked like acrobats on a tightrope, the challenge of not losing balance and not being seen was a huge stress on them.
Clearers get their thrill of going into battle, she got hers from sneaking into places like this. Unlike Clearers, if she was caught, there'd be no backup of any kind to pull her and Alicia out of the fire. Clearers required 'protocol' and 'rules' to work effectively, Argo was more of a lone wolf herself.
The Rat cleared the beam and was the first to get onto the adjacent roof. Alicia was a couple steps away.
She slipped. Alicia's eyes went wide, visible in the dark of night.
Argo's hand shot out and grabbed her by the wrist. "Got ya!" She pulled her onto the roof and they went prone.
Out of the corner of her eye, the guards' status briefly went to [ALERT]. She could hear footsteps, the guard walking around looking up. Another guard's status also went up. It took a minute before both of them resumed their original routine.
They scrambled to the back of the roof and there was a glass dome latch and all. She looked down and could see it led to a living room. Alicia made quick work of the latch with her lockpicks and scanned the room with a hand mirror. The coast clear, both of them descended onto the beams of the bedroom.
The room though dark was spacious, with an upper floor with stairs acting as the bedroom proper and a lounge with a fireplace. The room smelled of medicinal alcohol, sweat and piss, not the things she expected of a noble king. There was a tray of herbs and medicine on a dresser, a small table like the one used in bed on another. The lounge connected to a veranda and the doors were open. A gust of wind blew the curtains inward. A long shadow casted itself into the room.
The girls looked at each other. Alicia was giving her a 'now what?' look. Argo held up a hand, thinking. All she had to do was guard the king until dawn and fight anyone off. If she had to knock out the king to complete the quest, then that's what she would do. He was old and likely weak.
"If you're going to attack, best do it now. I am bored of doing nothing all night."
Her heart jumped up her throat. At the end of the wall where the beams connected, there was a shadow in the dark. Something flashed and it was coming right at her. Argo moved her head and heard a thud as the knife sank into the wood.
Alicia was not so lucky. She heard the barest grunt of pain as she fell to the floor.
The shadow came at her, dual blades glinting under the moonlight.
There was a knock at the door.
"Coming! Damn it all, it ain't even locked!"
The guard opened the door, glaring at the servant before him. "What do you want?"
"Sweets from the prince and his new bride. A celebration for the decade!" said Manis. On the tray were pudding, mooncakes, and other sugary sweets.
The guard said a thank you before taking the tray away. They waited.
After a couple of minutes, Manis opened the door ajar and looked in, all three guards were dozing off, little zzzs floating above their heads. The sedatives Sinon used were for far more dangerous and bigger beasts, but seeing as the guards were easily thirty levels above them, she didn't feel too bad about it. Even had to use the whole bottle, that's how strong the NPC's «RES» stats were.
Sinon quickly tied the guards up and gagged their mouths. Manis guarded her, his crossbow in hand.
They walked up the stairs, easily a whole six storeys worth. There was a single stairway left. If XaXa's intel was correct, there were four sharp eyed archers there and a single bell.
"Ready?" he asked. He wore a bandana over his face and so did she.
"Ready."
They checked their crossbows one last time and ran up to the stairway, Manis was played pointman.
The guard, to his credit, was not at all surprised, and simply notched his arrow as quickly as he could and tried to shoot from the hip.
But he was not as fast as Bhadra.
Bhadra was a one and a half meter long crossbow. It was similar in power to Sinon's own Vanator with the biggest difference being that it was bulkier, shorter, and had two small bows instead of a singular large bow, criss-crossed like an X. While their crossbows were faster and stronger than most similarly levelled crossbows, they were designed for different roles; Sinon for long range sniping, Manis' for medium to close range combat.
Both of them had opted for blunt bolts, the standard bolt head replaced with an iron ball. Perfect for small game like birds and other situations' requiring massive blunt force trauma.
Manis pulled the trigger, the double strings cracking like whip. The first shot slammed right into the guard's cheek, and Sinon heard the tell-tale sound of a broken jaw as he fell to the floor. He was out. Another guard had already notched an arrow to his cheek and loose a shot. It would have hit Sinon in the temple had she not taken a step back, soaring and burying itself into the wall a quarter way in.
Manis cranked his crossbow, expanding his use of «Fast Reload» to reload it in under a second. The bolt hit him between the eyes.
The last one didn't bother to shoot at all. He went for the bell hanging off one of the pillars.
Sinon didn't panic, didn't hesitate - cold as ice. She brought Vanator up to eye level, shot him in the knee, throwing him off balance and breaking bone. The guard tripped and slammed his head at the railing.
The entire encounter lasted four seconds.
They tied them as they did the guards before. Sinon dismantled the bell and threw it into the jungle.
Manis wiped off non-existent dust off Bhadra. "That's a good gal, never fails me. Gonna give ya' some new strings back at base, don't you worry."
Sinon said nothing; it's not like she wasn't guilty in doing the same thing with Vanator at times.
Both of them could spy a figure at the veranda. He was lounging on a seat. Sinon set up Vanator and attached a scope. The scope itself was long, thin and made of brass. She looked through the scope and could see an old man. He looked ancient, almost a century old. He had a long beard and spots on his head but that was all she could see. The scope wasn't as high powered as she had hoped.
"I'm gonna head down and patrol the area with XaXa. You gonna be cool up here?"
"It's fine. Be careful. We've no idea when and where the assassin will show up." Manis left. Now she was alone by herself.
So Sinon waited, and waited. She was good at waiting. She wondered what her team was up to, not her current team, but Spiegel, Kirito, Asuna and Heathcliff. She hadn't gotten a PM from them in a while and she hoped they didn't hate her for not being around.
She blinked and wiped her eyes. This was not the time to contemplate. Long assignments like these she had a habit of contemplating on the past instead of the mission. She viewed it as an unnecessary distraction and she's not going to stop now.
Instead, she started her breathing exercise which she learned as a child. Air in through the nose, filling her diaphragm, and release. It helped when she was stressed and was relaxing in its own right. Sinon focussed on nothing but her breathing and the target in front her.
There was a flash on the eastern side of the apartment. She looked through her scope and could vaguely see a figure waving at her. The brighstone flashed in Morse: C-L-E-A-R?
She took out her own and flashed back a quick Y-E-S. It was good to know she remembered the quick lesson.
Sinon glanced at the time. It was seven hours until dawn.
Alicia, to her credit, executed a perfect drop roll. She used the momentum of her fall and used it to direct the energy of gravity away. She came out of her roll, clutching her wounded bicep and hiding behind a couch.
Argo, to her non-credit, got kicked in the face.
This would have broken her nose but she was a firm believer in the «Steel Snout» perk, saving her from difficulty of breathing. It still hurt like hell though.
She almost lost balance and righted herself up and by instinct alone she blocked and swiped away the punch that came after. Another punch came and she pushed that way too, her body going into self defense mode that came with years of practicing karate.
The assailant switched tactics and went for another front kick. This time she caught it. What she didn't expect was the other kick that came at her as they jumped and twisted their body mid-jump. She blocked with a forearm but the impact was too much for her. Argo fell to the ground below.
She expected a concussion or a hurt back, only to find herself landing on something soft. It was the king's bed, fortunately sturdy enough to hold up the weight of the drop.
A couple of flashes and two distinct 'whoosh' sounds appeared from above, the indicator of approaching missiles courtesy of the «Missile Rader» perk. She rolled off the bed, vaguely aware of the smell that came from the sheets. Feathers sprouted like water from a fountain as the knives dug into the mattress.
She leapt under a table. Splinters of wood fell on her back as blades dug into the tabletop. There were no more knives - for now.
Argo focussed, took in her surroundings. The attacker was clearly a guard of sorts, if not, why did not go after the king? She needed to neutralise the threat and continue her mission. But then again, this guard was tough, and in the event they were defeated, wouldn't that make the assassin's job easier? Whole thing was messed up. The situation was FUBAR. If she met Garbo again she was gonna shove that box right up his -
The table flipped over. The attacker had a blade in hand. It came down like a hammer.
Argo rolled over and stood back up, a stinging pain in her left shoulder. She glanced at her HUD to confirm; a good 5% off her max HP. Had it been an accurate hit she would have easily had a blade stuck into her shoulder. Her guard uniform's padded vest did little to absorb the hit.
She took a step back and immediately felt woozy. Her breaths became short as she tried to focus on the enemy before her. There was something dripping from her mouth, a long trail of saliva.
Another bar appeared in her HUD, purple in colour: [POISONED!]
"Are you frigging kidding me?!"
"Whoever dares to attack His Majesty the King is an enemy of the kingdom." The guard readied their blade and came at her at full speed. Argo's knees were weak and wobbling, as if she had an extra ten kilograms on her person.
The guard stopped and leapt to the side. Alicia swung a sword around with practiced proficiency, slowed only by the wound in her bicep currently tied with a bandage. It was two against one.
Somehow, the guards outside had yet to barge in to end them right then. Nor was the guard actually calling for backup.
Alicia threw another sword to Argo, and she caught it. It was a masterfully made gegunting. This thing alone could pay a small guild's worth of wages. The nobility just had this thing hanging off their wall when they could be given to anyone else.
No time for introspection of wealth inequality. She had an enemy to defeat.
The Rat adjusted her grip, the tip heavy blade an unfamiliar feeling. Shoulda really taken up those fencing classes always going on at Black Iron Castle. Truth be told, she would rather fight the enemy with her bare hands, which goes literally against a decade of self defense training she was taught.
But then she would need to throw away her sword, and people already made fun of her for not knowing how to use a sword, in a game, where 'sword' was literally in the title.
"Two against one. Bad odds, for you that is," said the assailant.
"We'll stab them at the same time," said Alicia. Argo nodded.
They were about to attack when a voice intruded, old and commanding. "Stop this, immediately."
Sinon had kept watch for over fifteen minutes. Nothing was happening and she hoped it remained that way.
She flexed her shooting hand, the night was unusually cold. A tropical climate meant that even the nights were hot.
There was a single torch at one of the pillars, above where the bell was. It was far enough that the other guards in the towers couldn't have seen her face. Far enough they didn't notice the two missing silhouettes. Sinon stayed a fair distance away from it.
She inhaled, her nose was suddenly cold. She heard a sound, only to realise it was the chattering of her teeth. She exhaled and was surprised to see her breath was visible even in the dark of night.
The temperature dropped further. The torch went out.
She turned to the palace, formerly lively and bright and how it suddenly went dark. She could hear the surprise and chaos from where she was.
She returned her sight to the king - there was no one on the veranda.
From two directions came two bird whistles. She cursed and packed Vanator away, running down the stairs.
Ridwan covered his mouth as he yawned. Funny how he could stay awake for a day in a dungeon but could barely do so in civilisation. The night was still young.
"You know, Thinker. Maybe you should be captured by nobles more often. The food here is amazing."
"Sarcasm does not suit you, captain." Yulier adjusted the collar of her new uniform, as if she was born to wear it. Of all of the ALF officers, only she can be said of that.
Ridwan shouldn't have been surprised at the sudden summon by Thinker, he hadn't seen him since the incident back at Floor 11. The other captains that were on the floor were here too: Leeroy, Tametomo and Suen Xùnsù. The ones that were at the siege were sent back to Floor 1, resting and recuperating still. They were ready to move out soon he heard.
"Yeah, but you know what suits you, Yulier-chan? That uniform." Leeroy did what Ridwan can only assume was flirting (if you called vigorously wiggling your eyebrows a form of flirting). Yulier ignored him, which was how most women react to his advances.
Not that he couldn't disagree, Yulier was a handsome woman. The uniform, which he supposed was vaguely modern and military-like. It consisted of a jacket, shirt and slacks, all made of cotton, all deep green. It was supposed to make him look professional. To others maybe, his own lieutenants laughed at him. At least one of them looked good wearing it.
It was a long time coming. A set uniform for officers and grunts was derided by officers and Specialists but it had its own fair share of defenders. It sat there in bureaucratic limbo until the Kraton invited Thinker and his officers to the party and production ramped up considerably. Ashley, the ALF's senior Specialist in tailoring, took on this difficult mission. Many poor recruits were conscripted into Ashley's workshop and they worked non-stop for three days. Even then, it was only for Thinker, Yulier, and the captains.
They wore some fancy schmancy stuff to impress the rich in addition to the uniforms. Thinker had a heavy gold necklace, Leeroy had an expensive chaperon on his head, Tametomo had rings upon rings, Xùnsù wore jade earrings and Yulier had those shoulder pad things with the braids that military officers wore (which he would later learn were called epaulettes), matching nicely with her square-tiled gold belt.
Ridwan felt underdressed for wearing his nicest keffiyeh, a checkered yellow/green pattern. Everyone else was too polite to mention it but he knew.
"Thinker, you know what I think the uniform really needs?"
"I don't really care but I'm sure you'll tell me, Leeroy."
"Miniskirts! The shortest skirts, for all the girls. Think about it, it's good for PR ~ ow!"
"Anyway," Xùnsù said, cracking her knuckles. "Is there anything else we should be doing? Place is nice and all but I have quests to run with my boys in the morning."
"There were some … negotiations, after the siege between the big Clearer guilds and the Kraton. Suffice to say, it's nothing that you don't already know."
Ridwan could only imagine what the Gokuen Gun thought of that, seeing as that they were the closest thing the ALF had to 'rivals'.
"I don't like it either, but it's preferable to being outlawed. Folks here don't like mercs, apparently," said Thinker, taking his first sip of wine.
Tametomo asked, "Why would SAO have an entire kingdom where people dislike adventurers?"
"That's what I expect to find out soon enough."
Tametomo nodded. "This must be the whole Main Quest thing I've been hearing about. It's so strange, after what? Five months in-game, suddenly we're having a Main Quest? You sent me that message and literally the Main Quest updated in my Quest log. The thing is, it was only available for ALF as far I could tell."
"Has it really been five months? It feels like this has been going on for seven years. God, I need another drink." Leeroy called for a servant.
The officers split up, going around the hall and making social niceties. "Come on, guys. Mingle. The more contracts we get, the better," said Thinker.
Well, at least his degree wasn't going to waste, Ridwan thought.
He found himself engaging a group of merchants, old and bedecked in silks and jewelry.
"So, you are a knight?" asked an older Nadyah lady. She was short and squat, her black hair lined with grey. "From what village do you hail from?"
"I'm from a faraway land called Brooklyn. Come to this beautiful land to make wealth and a name for myself." Any attempts in explaining he was from the 'real world' was usually met with confusion, the NPCs seemed to just unable to understand the fact they were video game characters.
When asked why this was, the official Argus explanation was, "You should roleplay being cool people from cool places on cool quests. Don't be a bummer and tell you from rural Ohsaka or something!" Ridwan could agree with that.
He would think that, at the mention of money would be music to a merchant's ears but they grimaced at the mention and half of them suddenly found the walls very interesting. The old lady smiled at his answer but it was a forced smile.
"Hmm, yes. Ah, excuse me, a friend of mine is calling me." The group left Ridwan to himself and he kicked himself for wording his response that way.
He found himself speaking to Ser Caibre, the famous errant knight. He wore European style clothes, but Ridwan couldn't tell what time period they were other than it vaguely looked like what the nobles in his medieval-fantasy shows. He was a jolly man, red faced from all the drinking, with a glorious moustache that made him self-conscious over the fact he can never grow a proper beard.
"Ah, you are one of the lads from the uh, what do you call yourself again? Cleaners?"
"Clearers."
"Ah yes, Clearers! I was there on the 8th Surface, hunting down those dastardly Centaurs with your Sir Elan and that Khan fellow. It was a glorious battle, a battle of chivalry and grit! You should have been there."
"I was there. I was on the ridge shooting down on the horde." It was the easiest level up he had gotten, he almost felt bad for the Centaurs.
Caibre made a sound that was something like a burp and a laugh. "Spot on, lad! So here I was there, swinging my blade, Singing Death, a relic of my great-great-great-great aunt, who herself was a veteran of the Dragon Wars! Ah I've quite the illustrious family, as you know. My armour is easily three hundred years old, crafted in the forges of the Mountain I tell you …"
"That's very interesting, Ser Caibre …"
"Of course I was on my mighty steed, Neck Snapper. This was my fourth one, see. The others have met horrible ends. Don't think me a bad master, good sir! No, I love all my horses! I've hosted many costly funerals for my steeds! Of course, as I come from a noble family and an excellent tournament fighter, money is no issue you see …"
He went on and on and Ridwan knew he stepped into a trap. He waited until some other poor saps were baited in before making a tactical retreat.
He was searching for something non-alcoholic to drink before bumping into someone. "Apologies."
The man, a portly fellow with a balding head dressed in simple, but well made linen, adjusted brass-rimmed spectacles. "No worries. I see you've met the famous knight."
"Yes, he is quite the … character."
As if reading his mind, he grabbed a glass from a tray and handed it to him. It was simply a glass of iced water. "Thank you."
"You've never come to these sort of things have you, Outsider?" How the hell does every NPC know he was a player character? Must be something in their coding.
The portly man, who looked more servant than guest, introduced himself as Mister Bondar. He was the epitome of plain, with the exception of a fat gold ring with a big ruby. Ridwan had him pegged as a scribe or a merchant. They chatted about market prices, food and the price of barrels of all things.
Despite the mundanity of the subject, he spoke in a way that had much passion and love for it. He spoke of the increasing price of grains, the increasing difficulty of transporting seafood, and the construction of fishing boats.
This probably wasn't the sort of mingling Thinker expected but it was better than the rest of the guests.
"Ah, the delegates are arriving with their gifts."
A group of servants brought forth a large box in front of the royal couple. It was almost coffin size, and when it opened, cold air came out and Ridwan as if it was an icebox.
A tall wizened man, clad in expertly tailored fur coat and not showing any sign of heat exhaustion, presented it to the newlyweds. He carried a staff topped by an orb. He looked like Granum's wizards, saved that he wore far more bone than the average court mage. The bones themselves were covered in tiny script, delicate verses written in a language foreign to him.
From the box the servants scooped up something in a cup. The princess especially seemed to delight at the taste, clapping her hands.
It was ice cream.
The servants went about, providing cups of ice cream from trays. He, of course, took chocolate with chocolate chips. His new acquaintance had strawberry.
"If I can get myself one of those, imagine the practical uses of it. We can stock up on fish, meats, and all sorts of food. But the Mountain Clans guard their knowledge jealously. Only they have the means to make such long lasting ice," said Bondar.
"You dislike their monopoly?"
Bondar chuckled. "Each realm has their monopoly, a product that only they specialise in. Granum can breed warhorses at a fast rate, their crops are far more resistant and their runes are known throughout the Castle. Nadyah has their warp-wood, elephants and secret alchemy. The Mountain Clans have mastery of both ice and fire, their scrimshaw makes even the most brittle bone as mighty as steel."
"You didn't really answer my question."
"I'm a businessman, captain. Of course I dislike monopolies, unless they're mine of course." He gave a wry smile, his spectacles twinkled under the light of the chandelier.
More delegations came through the night. Minor lords of Nadyah, the vassals of the King, and even the peasants brought their prince gifts, whether it be cooked fish or a mail shirt by the village smith. The prince accepted these gifts humbly. A lady merchant came with bolts of silk, "The best in business, your majesty!" she claimed.
A couple particular visitors were completely covered, head to toe, in robes, and wore silver masks. Their bodies moved almost mechanically, and the NPC visitors were perturbed at their presence. They brought forth a metal box the size of a shoebox.
The entire party held their breath as the box opened. From Ridwan's vantage, he could see the princess had a hand on her sword from under the table. Guards took a ready stance.
The visitor produced the item: it was a clock.
The prince breathed a sigh of relief. He thanked the visitors, and if the visitors showed any sign of being offended, they didn't show it. They left and returned to their own group.
One particular delegation was, how can he put this - Flamboyant? Garish? More gold than sense?
"Peacocks," said Bondar.
Half a dozen men and women, wearing brightly colored clothing with the puffy-sleeves, huge hats with a dozen feathers, long pointed shoes, came up with chests of gold. An obscene amount of gold, in fact. They spilled on the floor in a trail. Even the chest looked like it would cost him a couple months of wages by itself.
The lead delegate was dressed in gold thread clothes, and his guards had … coin armour? On closer inspection, the vest consisted of all kinds of coins, many of which he didn't recognise. An entire set made out of currency. It must have been stupid heavy, but a part of Ridwan could appreciate the bravado of it all.
"A gift from the Warden of the Castle", said the delegate. He and his bodyguards bowed slightly, their armour rattling like sacks of money.
The prince was not impressed. From a glance, the Nadyah people had a mixture of apathy or disdain for the delegates, whispering things like 'upstarts', 'peasants' and 'bandits'. The delegate spoke of the great Vicegerent of the Sundered Realm and how they would be so happy to be good friends with the Kraton. Despite this, he took the money to Ridwan's surprise and gave them a polite thank you.
"They don't seem to be popular folk."
"Of course not, royalty tend to not like upstarts."
"But they're a kingdom aren't they?"
"Calling the Sundered Realm a kingdom is like calling a donkey a warhorse." He snorted. "That's a story for another time perhaps."
The delegations proceeded to give everyone in the room a fat gold coin, smiling sweetly. Some of the guests declined, some of them thanked the delegation, and many took the coin as if picking up a dead rat.
Ridwan inspected the coin: it had a throne on one side, and a skull with criss-crossed daggers under it on the other.
He recognised it instantly, it was the currency of the Bank of the Castle. He had a little pouch of the coins, inside the company's treasury at camp. Of course, he had an account with the bank too. Every player did.
As he examined it, Bondar began speaking about the coin and its relation with the Kanaka, Nadyah's own gold coin, Ridwan could see his breath. A sudden coldness descended onto the hall.
The warm light extinguished, the hall plunged into darkness. The hall filled with gasps and curses.
The light returned and was replaced with blue fire. The large doors of the hall were ripped open by a great force, shadows entered.
Every armed person in the hall pulled out their weapons, the guards surrounded the opening. Ridwan gripped the handle of his dagger.
A sack was thrown to the floor, heads spilled out. The heads were missing eyes. Some guests fainted.
The prince approached, unarmed, the princess by his side with his sword. "Who dares?" he demanded.
The lead figure stretched his hands outward, fangs shining under the harsh light. Its voice was harsh and grating, filling him with a sense of dread and hopelessness.
"We are the Doom of Nadyah."
You thought it would take me another six months to update, well you're wrong.
It's the return of our favourite Rat and sharpshooter. Also the captain guy, but no one cares about him.
Hope you enjoyed that and please leave a review! Almost hit that 300 mark!