《Questmaster》 Summoning - Prologue A blue light shining on the walls and the pillars ¨C the great hall was made brighter because of the magic, and so the Questmaster glanced away from the summoning circle. He stared at his feet, studied his shoes. Old boots made from old leather, and old laces holding it all together. These boots were probably as ancient as he was ¨C he couldn''t even remember when he started to wear them. ¡°Shoza, hldeu ul olmen ha!¡± said Neremniel, the archmage, as he canalised the magic in the circle with his hands raised. He looks like a bloody cretin, the Questmaster observed. He had told them, more than once. They ought to stop chanting the damn spell. They didn''t even need to chant or make funny gestures anyway. A mere thought would suffice, though apparently his excellency the archmage, Neremniel of the Darklands, also fancied himself a comedian of sorts. Perhaps that was how they learned magic in the Darklands, yet Neremniel had been here long enough to know how dumb it looked... ¡°But hey,¡± the Questmaster muttered, ¡°I''m not the one who sounds like I''m talking while having a seizure.¡± ¡°What''s that you said?¡± came a voice from behind. He didn''t need to turn around to know that the august voice belonged to a middle-aged man with lustrous brown hair, an elegant, well groomed beard, and equally elegant clothes. The Questmaster sighed. ¡°Nothing, your majesty. What will it be, this time?¡± The king shrugged. ¡°I don''t know. Come up with something nice, will you? Neremniel told me this one has a tragic past of sorts. Hit by a... truck, I believe? You know, these large carriages of steel with the-¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah, I know,¡± the Questmaster snapped. ¡°I bloody know what a truck is.¡± They had summoned about eleven or twelve of these truck-struck idiots, these past three years. Nowadays, I could ask the first drunkard I''d meet in the streets, even he would know what a truck is. ¡°Bah, don''t worry,¡± his majesty said, as if unaware that he was the root of his worries. ¡°We''ve had bandits burning fields and farms the other day. You can use that, add a little twist and all that, right? Work your usual magic.¡±This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. The Questmaster stroke his grey beard and grunted. ¡°I''ll see what I can do.¡± They turned their attention back to the summoning circle, brighter than ever now that Neremniel was about to finish his spell. A blue orb appeared, growing larger and larger. The room became white, and filled with echoing murmurs of grand deities and souls of heroes, and then, suddenly, nothing. In the middle of the circle, in place of the light, stood an average looking young fellow, slightly round perhaps, with the unmistakeable air of confusion and horror on his face ¨C that often happened when they summoned someone who recently died. Fresh memories of intense dread and whatnot. ¡°Eh... eh...¡± the young ''hero'' muttered, his legs shaking, saliva oozing from his agape mouth. ¡°This is... Am I dead?¡± Yep, the Questmaster concluded as he thought that the hero''s overall appearance granted him a certain aura of mindlessness. This one doesn''t have what it takes either. He felt the hand of the king on his shoulder, pushing him toward the circle. The Questmaster frowned, but stepped forward nonetheless. ¡°Welcome, chosen hero!¡± he began, as usual. Doing his best to sound dignified and friendly. ¡°Welcome to Pandristar! Our skilled magicians have gathered their wits and knowledge to summon you... saviour of another world, who shall free our realm from a terrible fate!¡± ¡°...F-fate? Hero?¡± The Questmaster squinted his all-knowing eyes and opened the young lad''s information screen.
General Information
Name: Cooper Cain Class: None Level: 2 HP: 55/55
Race: Human Title: None EXP: 0/150 MP: 12/12
Vitality: 6 Dexterity: 7 Willpower: 1
Stamina: 3 Intelligence: 4 Luck: 2
Strength: 5 Faith: 8 Charisma: 2
Unique Skills
[Resistance to expired food] [One-handed browsing]
Oh, for fuck''s sake. The Questmaster cringed. You aren''t exactly blessed, my boy. He had neither need nor desire to see more, as it was enough to know that the lad wouldn''t go far, much like the majority of the fools brought here. Still, he had a job to do. ¡°Yes, hero... Cooper Cain!¡± he said, struggling not to sound too jaded. ¡°You have been chosen because of your talent, your skill, and your courage! Congratulations!¡± A Trusty Teacher - Chapter 1 ¡°Do you remember speaking to a goddess of sorts before coming here?¡± Hero Cooper seemed to think for a second. His eyes widened as he apparently recalled something, he then eventually gave a fake smile. ¡°N-no... not that I remember...¡± He remembered, of course. They all remember. The archmage''s illusion magic always worked perfectly. The summoned imbeciles would meet a beautiful goddess upon arrival. It happened in a mere second, in such a way that the heroes would feel like they just had an important conversation, but they did not immediately remember it. Then the Questmaster would ask, and the memories would come back more easily. It''s always the same stuff anyway. Oh, hello, I''m bored, here''s your new life, or, hello, please save my people, but don''t mention to anyone you spoke to me! How stupid. The gods of Pandristar couldn''t care less about their people. The Questmaster liked them, because more often than not, their petty squabbles could make for a good quest, but only paladins, priests and clerics would manage to catch their attention with prayers and whatnot. ¡°So...¡± hero Cooper began, observing his clothes. They were his own, a grey tunic with a hood and pants of blue cotton that used to be an odd sight in the kingdom a few years ago, when summonings were still a rare occurrence. ¡°Can I do hero stuff?¡± The Questmaster gave a nod and waved a tired hand. ¡°You can choose a class, that would be a good start.¡± ¡°Class? I have a class? Do I have stats too?¡± His frenzied eyes seemed to look around him, searching for something. That sometimes happened. ¡°S... Status screen!¡± he yelled. ¡°Stats! Skill list!¡± That also happened often. Seeing the disappointed look on hero Cooper''s face, the Questmaster sighed. ¡°It isn''t that simple, young hero.¡± He glanced to the side and spotted Yorm, the fencing master. ¡°Yorm here,¡± he kept on, pointing toward the bulky man in armour, ¡°will teach you all you need to know about your newfound abilities. Any question you may have, he will answer. Don''t hold back.¡± Hearing that, Yorm grimaced. The Questmaster did not feel guilty one bit. The burden had to be shared, after all. ¡°Erhm, you talked about saving something? Do I have, like, a quest or whatever?¡± ¡°Ah, yes, yes, indeed.¡± The Questmaster cleared his throat and carried on in a thunderous voice. ¡°Evil is roaming our lands! Forests are on fire, villagers are butchered, and the plunder never ends! Please, chosen hero, deliver us from the bandits attacking our farms, and, their, err...¡± he paused, and just by looking at the hero''s expression he knew the lad had been expecting something more dramatic. Oh, I knew it. Bandits don''t interest anyone anymore...Years ago, people still found it exceptional to be brought from another world, and they had no objection when the king and the Questmaster would send them to do their bidding. Dangerous missions, shameful work, tiring monster exterminations... They''d gladly do it for free and even feel thankful for it. But now...If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. They wouldn''t say it, but recently all heroes more or less expected the same thing when they were summoned ¨C going to some mage academy, building their own city, banging five princess at once... Some even asked if they could change race and become orcs, dungeon cores, or whatever. The hell is a dungeon core? And who wants to be an orc anyway? ¡°...Well, there is more,¡± the Questmaster eventually assured. ¡°Even more dangerous trials await you, but first you must prove yourself against these bandits. Think of it as a... tutorial, for instance? A simple quest, for our new champion to get accustomed to his abilities.¡± ¡°I see,¡± hero Cooper said, nodding. ¡°That makes sense.¡± The king stepped forward, a large smile on his handsome face. ¡°You must be tired, hero. We have prepared chambers and servants for you ¨C if you need anything, don''t hesitate. We shall talk some more this evening.¡± A group of servants led the hero toward his private apartments, and the Questmaster accompanied them. ¡°How did you know my name?¡± hero Cooper wondered, as he seemed to have calmed down at last after his death experience and his own summoning. ¡°Ah, don''t tell me... I have a status screen after all, and you can read it, right?¡± The Questmaster raised his brows in surprise, or rather, did his best impression of a surprised old man in front of a brave hero. ¡°Ah, it''s much more simpler. We summoned you, we chose you ¨C there''s little we don''t know about our precious saviour.¡± ¡°Oh, okay...¡± the lad said, almost disappointed. ¡°In any case,¡± the Questmaster said with his best smile, ¡°no one can read someone else''s information without their consent. You needn''t worry about that. I''ll teach you all there is to know about status screens, leveling, quests and guilds.¡± ¡°I look forward to that,¡± Cooper concluded with a nod. The Questmaster grinned from ear to ear, and eventually left the hero with the servants. There were three of them around him ¨C pretty girls the summoned idiots would be sure to appreciate every aspect of, and in front of which they''d certainly let their guard down. This one wouldn''t even guess what the servants were up to. The tall, busty blonde with cold eyes was one of the king''s spies. The short-haired beauty with a cheerful behaviour and an annoying merriness was working for the archmage Neremniel. Finally, the cute girl with long black hair and a timid smile was one of the Questmaster''s own spies. He smiled to himself as he saw her clinging to the hero''s arm, making great use of her charms. As he observed them, his passive skill naturally allowed him to glance over his spy''s status screen.
General Information
Name: Nemia Class: Rogue Level: 35 HP: 167/167
Race: Human Title: None EXP: 130/5250 MP: 82/82
Vitality: 8 Dexterity: 15 Willpower: 6
Stamina: 9 Intelligence: 10 Luck: 5
Strength: 6 Faith: 2 Charisma: 12
Everyone had their own reasons for spying on the newly brought heroes. The king, for instance, probably wanted to have another share of fun by hearing all sort of embarrassing tales about the people he summoned. What a sick bastard, when I think about it. Still, it was probably better than brutalising commoners and kidnapping innocent maidens. To each his own. At least, the ones being tormented here weren''t fellowmen, but people from another world. Not that it really mattered. Right, let''s get to work, the Questmaster thought, stretching his old, aching back, holding his long dark robes as he walked the castle''s corridors in a vigorous pace. I''m sure there are a few interesting prophecies gathering dust in the library that I could use. A Trusty Teacher - Chapter 2 ¡°Hmm...¡± The Questmaster grunted and scratched his beard. His fingers ran across the fading inked characters, the smelly yellow paper, the ragged leather of the cover. Then he nodded in satisfaction, and closed the thick book in a clap as someone entered the library. No footsteps, no sound at all. He already knew who it was. He turned his head and spotted Nemia walking toward him in absolute silence. ¡°My lord,¡± she greeted, without much emotion in her voice. There was none of that awful shyness she cutely displayed to hero Cooper earlier. ¡°What are you doing here? Shouldn''t you be by the hero''s side?¡± Nemia bowed in apology. ¡°His majesty invited him for dinner.¡± The Questmaster glanced at the high windows and noticed that the sun was about to set. ¡°I judged more appropriate to report to you rather than to keep following him suspiciously.¡± ¡°That is surprisingly wise of you,¡± he said flatly, catching a glimpse of the blushing on her face. The spy made her report, yet there wasn''t anything noteworthy. Hero Cooper had judiciously spent his time resting or asking about the world, though obviously he never got the answers he wanted. A good way to keep these foreign heroes under control was to limit their knowledge of the world. Keep them in the dark. If they don''t know about the culture, the fauna, the laws, they cannot act with assurance. Making every moment of their life unpredictable and turning their choices into gambles was enough to keep the new heroes on a short leash. After the report, the Questmaster opened his status screen, went through his skill list, and finally found what he was looking for.
Unique Skill: [Questgiving]
The many parameters of this ability wouldn''t allow him to simply think and use it the way sorcerers and knights would with their own skills. He had to define a task, a reward, even conditions and a time limit if he wanted... It could get incredibly detailed, and keeping track of all these parameters was bothersome.
Nemia received 130 EXP.
¡°Thank you, my lord.¡± The spy bowed yet again, but as she was about to leave, something on the table caught her attention. ¡°Tales and legends from the Darklands,¡± she read out loud. ¡°Unusual choice of literature, even for you.¡± ¡°Just going through the lore, looking for inspiration and ideas.¡± The Questmaster rubbed his chin and stared at Nemia. ¡°You''re also from the Darklands, if I''m not mistaken.¡± ¡°That would be right,¡± she said with a nod. ¡°Though... I may have been born in those lands, but unlike his excellency the archmage who was raised there, I left when I was still very young. I remember nothing about that place, except for the never-ending twilight.¡± This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. The Questmaster shrugged. ¡°Hm, that''s a shame.¡± It was nothing new ¨C had Nemia stayed longer under that dusky sky, with sorcerers, warlocks and the likes, she would be a mage today, not a mere spy. Still, her origins meant she should have some affinity with magic. He stared at her once more and studied her info. ¡°Something wrong?¡± She had been a rogue for some time now. Not taking advantage of her magical affinities would be a waste. It would require a bit of training, but the Questmaster was confident he could teach her and turn her into a high-level assassin or a shadowstalker, given enough time. ¡°No,¡± he eventually said. ¡°You''re dismissed.¡± Nemia bowed and left the library. Her long dark hair swaying with each of her agile, light steps, and those weren''t making the faintest noise, as usual. The Questmaster turned his attention back on the book. Whether these legends were true or not, they were interesting, and that was all that mattered. I need to find an empty dungeon... Shouldn''t be too hard. Veteran heroes often cleaned up these abandoned fortress and forgotten temples that somehow came out of nowhere ¨C at least that was how it seemed from the perspective of unknowledgeable people. Once they had killed every goblin and lich, unravelled every trap and riddle, plundered every treasure and loot, they never bothered to go back. These groups, sometime organised as raids, would make the Questmaster''s life even harder by getting rid of the smallest threats, like goblins encampments or rogue wizards, small challenges that could be perfect for freshly summoned heroes. If only the veterans would ignore it. But no, they just slash and burn everything, these bloodthirsty, mindless cretins, even things that are way below their level, meaning more work for me. Needless to say, he had no love for these veterans. Hence his decision to involve them in a fairly dangerous adventure this time. Hopefully, this would manage to reduce the ever-increasing population of heroes in Pandristar, by appealing to both veterans and newcomers. He couldn''t exactly wipe them out, as they were now part of the realm''s economy, so he had to resort to these complicated tactics. Get rid of some, but not all of them. I''ll need something spacious... Land, workers, money... Nothing his good friends at the Adventurer''s Guild, at the Paladin Order, or at the Royal Academy, couldn''t help with. They owed him quite a bit, after all. Their quests required his approval, and there wasn''t a single prophecy, magical event, or large scale hunt that didn''t involve him. As long as Neremniel and the king didn''t do anything dumb, everything should go well. Speaking of which, I should check on them. The Questmaster got to his feet and left the library, making the ragged book disappear under his dark robes. Nobody needs to know of this book. As he walked the empty corridors, he caught his reflection on a glass window. It took less than a second for him to switch his stern, cold expression with a warm smile, and to hide his vigorous, intimidating demeanour behind the appearance of old age, his back sightly arched. It did very little to fool the king, the archmage, the lords, or their many spies ¨C not that it was the Questmaster''s intention anyway. It was just one more layer. Freshly arrived heroes, however, had a much easier time trusting a kind old man who could act as a mentor. They only started to distrust him when they realised that there were many other heroes from their world, far too many, and that it was seriously fishy that they needed that many heroes to save their kingdom... The Questmaster entered the great hall, which had been redecorated for the occasion. Banners and candlesticks hanging from the balconies and columns, rows of tables covered with white sheets, bards and musicians playing in a corner, for the sole pleasure of the aristocracy, or their displeasure whenever the king found it amusing to employ low-level bards. Which seemed to be the case tonight. The lords and ladies gathered here didn''t mind the king''s shenanigans, though. In the end, when the king was in the mood for pranks and jests, he would have Neremniel summon a random guy, and hold a feast to celebrate the arrival of the ''saviour''. Feasts during which all manner of dealings, contracts and arranged marriages were eagerly discussed ¨C so nobody really minded the awful music or the out of tune singing. Yes, nobody minded. Especially not the Questmaster, whose many spies disguised as servants would of course overhear all these interesting conversations. The inhabitants of the castle could try to guess who was a spy and who wasn''t, they could try as hard as they wanted. In the end, only the Questmaster could know with certitude if people really were who they pretended to be. Knowing that the rest of the guests were being taken care of, he could concentrate fully on the king''s new toy, hero Cooper Cain. A Trusty Teacher - Chapter 3 As he neared the king''s table, his eyes wandering on the cups of wine, the silver plates filled with beef, deer and boar, the trays containing figs, apples and grapes, the Questmaster heard a familiar conversation. ¡°...you have to raise your arm and say, open status!¡± the king explained with clarity and assurance. ¡°We raise our arm as a way to reach the gods, who were kind enough to grant us this powerful magic. Only the most experienced can do it without the gesture. I wouldn''t recommend it to you yet.¡± ¡°I see,¡± hero Cooper said naively, scratching his brown hair. ¡°I was doing it wrong.¡± He paused, raised his arm, and bellowed, ¡°Open status!¡± It earned him a few glances and snickers, but he didn''t seem to notice, too distracted by the screen that must have appeared in front of him. ¡°Wow!¡± he exclaimed, as if his pitiful stats were something to be gaping at. ¡°Magnificent,¡± said the smiling king as he slowly clapped his hands. ¡°You truly are talented, young hero.¡± This, again. Hero Cooper gave a shy and stupid grin, like many others before him. This is why, today, half the heroes in Pandristar are still yelling stupid commands to check their own information... Bad habits lingered, even after they learned the truth. The Questmaster let out a long, bored breath through clenched teeth. ¡°Your majesty, I implore you, do not concern yourself with these matters. It is the duty of people such as I, to teach the young hero.¡± ¡°Aw,¡± the king said wryly, stroking his fine beard. ¡°but I enjoy it so much...¡± I know you do. That''s why. ¡°Still, if you insist,¡± he carried on, ¡°I''ll let you have all the fun.¡± ¡°What''s fun?¡± Cooper Cain wondered nonchalantly. ¡°Why, teaching, of course!¡± The Questmaster said with a warm smile. ¡°Teaching is so much fun, wouldn''t you agree? Seeing bright students such as yourself accomplishing a difficult task in less time that it takes to explain it, it''s peerless fun, trust me.¡± ¡°Hmm...¡± The hero rubbed his chin with a satisfied expression and observed the people in the hall. ¡°I don''t think I''ve ever seen anyone here opening their status...¡± Neremniel, who had been silent until now, pitched in. ¡°Most people don''t even feel the need to check their status, unlike heroes whose power and skills are constantly evolving. In truth, some of us here have never been able to open a single information screen.¡± ¡°Not everyone can consult his status screen with so little practise,¡± the king added, displaying an expression of pride and wisdom, which everybody, save for the hero, knew to be fake. ¡°You may be gifted, hero Cooper. It''s a blessing from the gods ¨C it must be.¡± The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. It''s fucking silly, that''s what it is, the Questmaster complained in his mind as he grabbed a wooden chair and sat down next to the hero. Even uneducated beggars and dimwits could open their status with a mere thought. It was amongst the first things people would learn to do. Screaming, crawling, status opening. ¡°HP... MP...¡± Cooper muttered as he looked at his screen. ¡°What happens when my HP fall to zero? Do I respawn?¡± The Questmaster raised a brow. ¡°You die,¡± he said flatly. Perhaps you should experience it yourself. Anyone stupid enough not to know that, deserves to learn it the hard way. He cleared his throat and grabbed an apple from a clay plate. ¡°HP loss can be induced in more than one way,¡± he explained. ¡°Getting bullied to death by goblins is one way ¨C suffering from great hunger is another.¡± He handed out the apple to the hero, who accepted it with uneasy hands. ¡°Eat apples, young hero. They may save your life.¡± Cooper nodded, his determined eyes filled with gratitude. Little did he know that for each of these small advices that should have been obvious even for otherworldly travellers, he''d be kept in the dark about very important things that could actually save his life. ¡°So, are there ways to regain HP?¡± ¡°But of course,¡± the Questmaster said cheerfully. ¡°The prayers of a cleric, or the spells of a druid, for instance, can achieve that. Some consumables can also restore various amounts of health, and unless you have an untreated injury, your HP should be gradually regained over time. Sleep can also quicken this phenomenon.¡± The newcomers often seemed to be aware of the basics, and had the tendency of convincing themselves that they already knew all there was to know about the world of Pandristel. Over the years, the Questmaster found it wise to gain their trust by willingly explaining the fundamental laws of the world, the ones that didn''t come as a surprise, while at the same time keeping silent about whatever the heroes were unfamiliar with. The official guideline for dealing with heroes that was given to the inhabitants of Pandristel was simple. If they don''t ask about it, don''t speak about it. If they do ask, give them information they already know, or could easily guess. If it is something important, claim that you don''t know. The Questmaster, as the original creator of this precept, was fairly proud of it. ¡°Cleric, eh?¡± Cooper fell deep in thought, which contrasted with his unintelligent appearance, therefore making quite the sight. Like an idiot caught in a paralysis spell, blank eyes and unmoving body. ¡°I have 8 points in faith,¡± he eventually said, ¡°does that mean I could be a cleric? What about a paladin? When do I get to choose a class, by the way?¡± ¡°Tomorrow,¡± the Questmaster said, calming the hero with a gesture of his hand as if he was an overexcited dog. ¡°This is an important decision. You should take the night to think about it.¡± ¡°Wait... I can''t change my class once I''ve decided?¡± ¡°No.¡± The Questmaster beamed a large smile, and so did the king. ¡°Weight your options carefully, but don''t lose any sleep over the matter, eh?¡± And they all laughed, knowing perfectly that Cooper Cain would anxiously think about his choice of class tonight, worrying about what he should pick when they wouldn''t even tell him all the possibilities. As far as he was concerned, he would have access to the usual set of vocations. Knight, wizard, cleric, rogue, and whatnot. Most of the new heroes were already accustomed with these, so the Questmaster didn''t mind talking about those. When the hero would be faced with a bunch of unexpected classes the next day though, he would panic, and most likely make a hurried, unthoughtful choice. With the lack of sleep, and the officials in the know that would glare at the hero for dragging on the Ceremony of Choosing, it worked every time. ¡°I''ve already told him about the purposes of each starting class,¡± the king said with a blank face, a slight hint of a smile hidden in the corner of his mouth. The Questmaster knew not what his majesty had been telling the hero, but in all likelihood, his explanations of the classes weren''t remotely trustworthy. ¡°Good,¡± the Questmaster concluded with a nod. ¡°Then I gather you''re all set for tomorrow, hero Cooper.¡±