Stumbling Up: A Loser's Guide to Progression - Chapter 71: Aftermath

Our exit from the Ceaparean Drift was uneventful. No bandits bothered us on the first leg of the caravan.

Tandy and I mourned the breakup of our trio. For all my resolve that my version of an [Adventurer] was right, it still hurt that Leo had turned right when I went left at the fork in the road.

We headed back east. Maybe not to Woodsten, not without Leo. How could we have explained his absence?

We were moving slowly, stopping at the small towns that peppered the western expanse.

Every time we entered a town, Tandy would pick up minor quests at the Adventurer’s Guild.

Tandy would wake up early and hit the quest board. Meredeath and I weren’t naturally early risers, and Ash didn’t seem to care.

I don’t think anyone would have trusted me to pick up the quests anyway. I sure didn’t.

Tandy had changed. Instead of late nights, she tortured herself by getting up at the crack of dawn. She’d go into the courtyard, or step away from camp, and practice. Over and over.

I’d been cursed with a lethargy that sucked any will to practice. I barely got up for breakfast unless I was in charge of the meal. Ironic that the thing I enjoyed the most was cooking.

Today, however, we'd found a cheap inn that included a basic breakfast for all. I was going to skip it, but the window in our room sent a shaft of light right onto my pillow.

So I was up and being served watery eggs by the time Tandy'd returned. I thanked the server, trying not to let my expression give away my opinion of the soggy food. Even the potato hash looked burned. I absentmindedly pushed both around on my plate, trying to work up the courage to eat either.

Meredeath would be down in a bit—or wouldn't. She really wasn't a fan of mornings.

Ash slid into the booth. "Where's Richard?"

I glanced up, wincing as I put a forkful in my mouth. At least it wasn’t cold. I swallowed, like the eggs were a shot of shitty vodka. "He's finding his own breakfast."

I wasn't really embarrassed that Richard dumpster dived for breakfast, but every time I'd admitted the fact to someone new, they always gave him the poor Richard routine as though I didn’t feed him proper food. The slug preferred compost and trash.

Ash signaled that he wanted his own plate of underachieving eggs and looked at me with the eyes of a man with a thousand questions. I didn't regret inviting Ash onto our team. I really didn't. His skills had saved us a dozen times already. Nothing about him was particularly objectionable. He just wouldn't stop talking.

"How did you sleep?" Ash asked, and without waiting for a reply, continued. "I thought those beds were hard. However, I've found most beds to be hard since I've been here. I need to figure out an improvement, maybe a magical camping mat that repels bugs? I hate it when we're out on the trail and I wake up with bugs in my bedroll. How're the eggs?"

I opened my mouth to reply, but he overrode me again. "They look good, like they've got real herbs in them."

I forked some more into my mouth, swallowing quickly. They were getting cold. If these were good to Ash, I shudder to think how bad the food in his world had been. "I miss orange juice. You all don't seem to have it."

"What's orange juice?" I asked, taking a mouthful of the cool minty tea they'd served with the eggs.

"Oh, uh. It's juice made from oranges."

"The color?" I took another bite. I loved doing this to the guy. There seemed to be a lot about his world that he'd never really thought about. He was so earnest, too. He never caught on that I was ribbing him.

Kind of like Leo.

Ugh.

Leo was walking his own path. Death and glory, shiny armor and riches. Every once in a while, we’d hear some rumor of Leo Patch the [Paladin of the Hunt]. He was making a name for himself. The Beast Slayer, they called him.

I poked at the eggs on my plate, moving them around.

We’d found a couple lost children, defended a caravan from bandits, and escorted a herdsman to their summer pastures. They weren’t big jobs, but they were important.

I’d rather be an Andrew Ashborn, [Wayfinder] for the Lost, than Leo Patch, The Beast Slayer.

I still couldn’t shake the sense that Leo was lost. That we’d find him. Fix this.

"No, it's a fruit called an orange because it's well, orange. It's a citrus fruit, like lemons but much sweeter. It was common for us to have fresh orange juice as part of our breakfast." The server delivered Ash's plate. His eggs were a little overcooked, looking almost rubbery.

"So, you have orange trees in your yard, and you make fresh orange juice every morning?" I knew it was unlikely. From all the things Meredeath had told me, they lived in cities where no one farmed their own food.

It'd always sounded a little odd to me, but there was much about their world I couldn't imagine.

Ash had turned pink at my question. "Um, no, the fresh orange juice comes from a carton." I frowned. What was a carton? Sensing this, he rushed his explanation. "It's like a box that you keep liquid in, but it's small. We can buy them at the store. They're made of, um, like magically bound wood chips. But instead of magic, it's glue."

My eyebrows raised, and I tried imagining a rectangular wine barrel full of fruit juice with floating woodchips. They must really enjoy orange juice.

"We used to put the images of missing kids on milk cartons," Ash continued.

I tried imagining a wine cask with the image of a lost child, but I failed. What a strange memorial for a child.

"How's breakfast?" Tandy interrupted my thoughts, scooting onto the bench across from me.

I moved over for a trailing Meredeath. Tandy always dragged Meredeath out of bed before giving us the mission details. Meredeath poured herself a cup of tea, holding the cup between her fingers as though it were the only thing keeping her alive.

Tandy scanned the table, grimacing as she examined the quality of our 'free' breakfast.

“Maybe we shouldn't prioritize the 'breakfast included' inns,” Meredeath said, looking at our meals. “The last three have been really terrible.”

I nodded heartily in agreement.

"Yeah, we can look into it, but it has saved us a lot of money," Tandy countered.

My eyes swung over to Tandy, frowning. I hated when she was right.

Then I saw it.

A ghostly smudge of powdered sugar at the corner of her mouth. She'd gotten a pastry for breakfast. This, our penny-pinching leader, had skipped the crappy eggs and spent our hard-earned money on a pastry.

I eyed her. "That's easy for you to claim. Since you don't eat breakfast, right?" That'd been her excuse for months. She wasn't a “fan” of breakfast food.

With a smile, I reached across the table and dabbed at the corner of her mouth with my napkin. Ash looked confused, but Meredeath read the room.

"You've been sneaking out to buy pastries?" Tandy was unwilling to meet any of our eyes until Meredeath let her off the hook. "Without me? I'd get out of bed for a good donut hole."

"That’s what he said," Ash trailed off as we looked at him.

His goofy grin was infectious. We all burst out laughing. It felt good to laugh.

Tandy was going to have a lot more company in the mornings when the inn’s food was suspect.

"Alright, back to business, everyone. We've got a quest. There's a missing kid, and we've got to find him." Tandy's words brought us all back to reality. "The kid's friends admitted to daring him to go into what the locals call the Slime Cavern. Our job is either to pull him out or confirm his fate."

I cringed at the euphemism. We all knew what confirm his fate meant, and it wasn't anything good. Ash's face turned green. He really wasn't cut out for the [Adventurer's] life, the kid had such a weak constitution for the reality of death.

"If he's passed, maybe we can have Ash paint him onto a wine barrel." Everyone stared at me as if I'd grown horns. Even Ash. I waved at Ash. "Like your milk carton graves, Ash. It'd be nice."

Ash stared at me for once at a loss for words. He mouthed the words milk carton graves.

"You said your people put images of missing kids on milk cartons, right? We don't have these milk boxes, but we've got wine casks."

He gave a long, “Ohhhhh.” Meredeath clutched her stomach as she laughed. Tandy and I just sat, missing the joke.

Tears streaming down his face, Ash just choked out, "No, I think we're okay. We'll let the family handle the grave."

“What am I missing?” I asked, confused by these off-worlders.

“The kids on the cartons are presumed missing, not dead,” Ash explained. “They’re not graves. They’re made with the assumption that it’ll work out and they’ll find their way home. It’s possible the kid’s just run away and needs a reminder that they’re missed.”

Huh. How optimistic.

“More likely they’re kidnapped. Or dead.” Typical Meredeath commentary.

Ash’s interpretation sat with me. This idea that a kid could run away and just needed a reminder they were missed. Maybe we should put Leo on a wine cask or two.

“Enough of milk cartons, let me share the quest,” Tandy cut in.

[Local Quest: Slime Cavern Rescue

The populace at Hunt's Rest has issued an Adventurer Quest to search the Slime Cavern for Raif Leais, a 10-year-old child of the village. If found alive, recover the child and return him to the parents. If dead, return with news of Raif's death and any belongings recovered. Reward: 5 gold, potential other rewards depending on quest criteria fulfillment.]

There it was. The duty of an [Adventurer]. I’d thought about going home a lot these last couple of months, but if I did, who was going to save this kid?

It sure wasn’t going to be Leo.

Not today, anyway.

I set down my fork.

“You all ready?” I asked. A twinge of excitement threaded through my chest. It was time to save a kid.

A slime cavern? Did you guys pick this quest just for me?