Tragically Tragedy after Tragedy

Charlie's house was a nice one-story building in the outer part of the town. I had thought that they were peasants, judging by how they dressed and their living, but I don't think a peasant would own such property.

They were more likely middle-class people that got hit by misfortune and fell from grace.

It was my first time, entering a medieval home and I was impressed. Even without modern heating, the interior was cozy and warm. There was a big fireplace in the main living room that provided both heat and light.

Charlie's sister was a decent cook. The stew she made, out of some meat and beans, was delicious but had the imperfections of home cooking, which for me, made it only better. It reminded me of my mother.

The siblings talked warmly at the table. They seemed very close, and just being near them, made me feel at home. They talked about each other's day and then talked about mine.

But there was one thing that was made clear to me. Ashley was sick. She conversed with much energy, smiled as widely as she could, and laughed at times even. But under the dim light of the fireplace, she clearly was pale, there was darkening around her eyes and she lacked meat in her bones.

Charlie also mentioned it, when he was crapping his pants in front of the goblins.

After the hearty dinner, we proceeded to the bedrooms, to finally rest. Ashley was alone in hers, and me sleeping with Charlie in his room.

His bed was enough for both of us and heaven compared to the previous night's arrangement. The cushion was thick and it was complete with warm blankets and soft pillows. Which got me wondering how Charlie could endure the hay.

Tired to the bone, it should have been enough to send me straight to sleep, but it did not. My curiosity was plaguing me.

"Your sister... " I said staring at the wooden bars that supported the ceiling.

"Yes, what about her? You in love?" he chuckled. As I had expected, he was not asleep.

"What sickness does she have?" I asked, unsure whether I should be asking about it.

"Oh." he turned on his back, and we stared at the ceiling together. There was silence for a few moments, and I thought he was not going to answer me.

"It is a generational curse that eats at the heart." he answered, in a low voice. He swallowed after the first sentence. "It is the same one that killed my mother, and my grandmother, and my great grandmother and all those before them for several generations now."

I tilted my head at him. I had half-expected it to be a terrible joke, one of his outlandish stories, but what he only had was a blank stare and a sad smile.

"I am sorry." I blurted out. "I should not have asked."

"I took no offense." he replied "My mom's been dead for three years now. And it is just a dull ache."

"And.. your father?" I launched another question.

"He is a sergeant that served Lord Wesley, lord of the city of Greystone. My mother said he died during a minor squabble among the nobles." he said. "And don't worry, I was too young when he died, I only vaguely remember him."

So he was an orphan. Just like me. Very cliche and very sad.

I heaved a sigh. Guild gnawed at me, remembering all the times I wanted to punch him for just existing. I just did not know how someone so goofy could hide such tragic a story. Even still...

"Does it have a cure?"

"No." was the quick reply. "But, she takes a daily concoction that might slow the curse. It was the same one my mother took and she lived to..." he swallowed "she lived to thirty."

I took a glance at him again and I saw a tear dropped, and noticing me, he quickly turned to his side, facing the wall.

"Is there anything I could help?"

"Thank you. But it's not your problem." he replied, and I heard no hate from it.

---

"No caravan run today, I am afraid. But... " Osman lifted a finger and his lips broke into a smile. "...but there is a bigger offer for us. We are talking about 200 scales."

Gasps were heard throughout the little crowd. 200 scales was a large sum. That was double the usual offer of the merchants. With that, we could have 30 scales for each of us, and maybe I could afford a proper gambeson.

"And we don't have to escort carts. We only have one client who wishes to have our protection, from here to the city of Dunfur."

Our client was behind Osman. One quick look and we knew he needed guarding. He had glittering accessories, in the form of golden earrings, a silver necklace, and a jeweled ring. He also had a bright purple robe on and elegant leather boots.

The members of the company readily agreed. Charlie said it was easy money. Dunfur was east of Pinecreek, and they frequent the route there.

They had a contract like this one before but with a price that was 50 scales lower. He said only reputable mercenaries get those kind of contract.

[Quest: Nobleman Escort

Difficulty: Medium

Description: Safeguard the life of the client, until you reach the city of Dunfur. Injuries incurred by the client will cause a significant deduction to the wages, and death would fail the quest.

Rewards: 150 Experience]

The blue screen, however, disagreed with the 'easy money' description. The fishermen escort, in which I encountered goblins was rated as easy. But this one, which Charlie said was through a safe route was 'medium' difficulty.

Something was not right. An incident will surely come. Most likely a goblin or a bandit ambush. And to my surprise, I looked forward to it.

I opened the profile screen. My stats had ballooned over the course of just two days. If I could deal with goblins with ease, before the 25 stat point increase, how would they fare against me now?

My only worry was Charlie. After the grim discovery last night, I now unwillingly care whether he lived or die. Something that comes with befriending someone. A most inconvenient thing, it is.

"If something happens just stay behind me." I said to Charlie.

"What are you- " he laughed. "Sure, goblin slayer, even if you don't ask me to, I'd stick to you like a leech."

"Unfortunately, I don't think there will be a chance to display your skills, this time around."

How wrong he was.

---

Rich people. I had never been fond of them, but I did not hate them as much as during that day.

Damnably, the escort contract did not only involve some walking and some watching. The nobleman did not want to walk and brought with him a cart for us to pull while he leisurely sits.

Or more accurately for "me" to pull. As the greenhorn of the company, I was relegated to the task.

They did not know of my goblin slaying feat, as I had instructed Charlie to keep his mouth shut about it, and as impossible as it may sound, he kept the promise. And I regretted it with all my heart.

"Are you tired?" asked Charlie who stood close to me, like he always does. "Do you want me to switch with you?"

I was not tired. It had been nearly an hour, but the increased strength stat had greatly improved both my physical power and my endurance. I was sweating but just like those farmers in the first chapter of this story, I had still something left in my tank. Even still, I don't think I'd be able to do it the whole way.

"No, not yet." I replied. "Maybe thirty minutes more."

"Barely a sweat. You are a beast.... and by beast I mean, very... strong." he clarified. Charlie was trying to console me of my predicament, perhaps guilty that someone as skilled as me was doing the dirty job.

"Yes, I do know what you mean. But please don't talk to me, I don't want to waste my breath."

"Actually, my talking to you does not do any wasting of your breath. It is your talking back to me, that does." he quipped. "So, you could just listen."

"On second thought, I think I am tired. Let us switch."

"What? No, thank you. On second look, you look fresh as a daisy."

"Bandits ahead!" Osman warned, interrupting out bickering.

In front and on horseback, the band leader had the wider and farther vision. We turned our attention to the road ahead, then our eyes suddenly went back to Osman.

It happened so suddenly and yet so matter-of-factly. This was not how stories should go.

Because the next second, Osman had an arrow piercing his throat and fell off his horse making ugly gurgling sounds.

[Osman had been killed]

Our leader was dead, the most experienced among us. Panic was further expounded when arrows went our way and within seconds everyone was falling left and right. Only a few of us brought shields, and ironically they were the first to fall.

[Mando had been killed]

[Jason had been killed]

[Dorfin had been killed]

From out of the bushes, men emerged. They weren't mere thugs. One could know even at first glance. They wore gambeson, and they wielded swords and spears. And there were level twos and level threes, in equal number.

Unsurprisingly, the surviving members of the band began to flee.

"Protect me, you cowardly buffoons. Protect-"

I heard an arrow hissed by me, and soon after heard the thump of a fallen body.

[Quest: Client Escort Failed]

[You lost 10 reputation]

[You lost 5 Strength]

[You lost 5 Agility]