Mr. We-

Christie was still trying to hide her heavily blushing face behind her hands and hair as they walked towards the ‘small dining room’. If the butler had any thoughts about that, he gave no indication of such, with not even his RS having moved as he led them down the hall and to the right.

The ‘small’ dining room was about the size of John’s living room and furnished with a hardwood dining table as well as paintings and a picture of a younger Christie, about 15ish in John’s estimation, on the walls. The table would easily fit a dozen people, but was set for three.

At the head of the table, Christie’s foster father was already seated. He was the most archetypal generic businessman John had ever seen, to the point where Background Businessman NPC #7 in a Spider-Man game could’ve been modeled after him. A slim frame bordering on lanky, brown hair and eyes, a light complexion and a white shirt with a dark purple tie made for what could almost have been a look at John himself in his thirties, if he had remained mundane. With one key difference.

Despite not really doing anything identifiable to showcase it, Mr. Wessel radiated a level of calm confidence and self assurance that John could never have hoped to match. He felt less like a man who was simply aware of his own worth and more like someone for whom self-doubt was a thing that happened to other people. Yet he did so without mixing in the overbearing arrogance of Frank or the disdainful haughtiness of Vanessa.

That was a very high level in a mundane class. But the title implied that he had come from poverty, so it made sense that becoming a ‘rising star’ in international commerce took either exceptional skill, exceptional luck, or both. The note about a reputation for ruthlessness was a bit concerning, as was the RS. The reason for the latter made sense though, even if it was, to the best of John’s knowledge, something very few people could actually put into practice.

Archibald had been reading an actual, physical newspaper called ‘the Beacon’ when they entered, that he folded up and handed to the butler. Without meaning to, John picked up a headline about a young empress of China thanks to his speed reading Perk. That caused a moment of puzzlement as he thought China was communist, but maybe the old royal family was just living in exile somewhere, like Taiwan?

In any case, he had more important things to worry about. Like trying to impress Christie’s father, since that came with a huge Quest reward. He wasn’t really sure how to even do that though, but being polite was probably a good first step.

“Hello, sir. I’m John Newman, nice to meet you.” John held out his hand.

Mr. Wessel stood up and gave it a brief, firm shake. “Likewise, Mr. Newman. I’m Archibald Wessel. As I understand that you’re a friend of my daughter, you may call me Archibald.”

He sat back down and John and Christie took their seats as well. It was only now that John realized that she was navigating without her white cane. That surprised him for a moment, then he realized that he was being stupid. He could navigate his own home without looking whenever he was absorbed by something on his phone, or handheld console, so of course she could learn to navigate hers by memory. It was kinda lucky that he hadn’t stood next to her usual chair by happenstance though.

“If memory serves, you are the young man who recused himself from Christie’s birthday party by way of a card?” While the tone was that of a neutral question on the surface, it was fairly clear that Archibald already knew the answer.

“Yes, I, uh, I had already agreed to have dinner with my grandparents.”

Archibald nodded, his face still in a polite but unreadable expression. His RS also remained at 0. “So the card said. Are you and your grandparents close?”

“Yes. I usually drop by for a bit about once a week…” That kinda undermined the validity of having to go to said dinner over Christie’s birthday. But he was fairly sure trying to come up with some sort of bullshit would be worse.

The conversation was stopped by the butler returning, accompanied by a maid. She was an albinistic woman in her early to mid twenties, with short, white hair and exotic crimson eyes. Her outfit was more revealing than the original maid uniform, showing a centimeter of bare thigh above her stockings and having a cutout showing her ample cleavage, but not so much so that it came off as fetish wear instead of an actual uniform.

Under normal circumstances, John would have had a hard time looking away. With Christie in the room, and wearing clothes that fit her, it was easier. Trying to imagine Christie in the maid outfit made it a lot easier. It also made it very fortunate that his lower body was currently hidden by the table.

Looking at Christie with what John could only assume was obvious carnal attraction probably wasn’t exactly a good impression to give her adoptive father. Coming in with the blind girl blushing up a storm, then ogling the maid, was definitely a worse one. He did have the presence of mind to glance at the maid’s nameplate, though.

Aclysia d’Cardin
Housekeeper Lvl 22
Diligent Perfectionist

A relative of the butler and fairly high level for a mundane of her age, but otherwise not really notable. They served dinner, beef stew with mashed potatoes, and left. Given that it was served by a butler and maid combo in what was clearly, if a bit less obviously than Brighton Manor, an upper class home, John had half expected some sort of fancy haute cuisine or whatever it was called. Then again, for all he knew the stew might be of a particular recipe with a fancy French name and all that other stuff.

“How was school?” A few mouthfuls into the meal, Archibald turned his attention to Christie. John was grateful that he could probably go for a bit without talking, because the moment the scent of the food hit his nose, he had realized that he was famished. At the moment, not wolfing it down like it was his first meal in a week was only barely doable.

“As usual…”

John had to suppress a momentary cringe. The words and the mix of evasiveness and false neutrality in the tone was intimately familiar to him. Familiar from years of not wanting to burden his mom with the details of that schoolday’s bullying and loneliness. After a moment, she followed it up with a more earnest, “Lunch was nice though,” and a slight movement of her head that would probably have come with a glance at John if she wasn’t blind.

“I heard there was an altercation.” Mr. Wessel’s tone was conversational rather than the concern one would expect of a parent saying so about their child’s school.

“Yes, uh…”

Christie seemed unsure how to put what had happened, though she seemed a bit less nervous about it than when a teacher put her on the spot in class. In any case, John decided to come to her figurative rescue, “Yeah, Dickinson Jr. jumped me because I called him out on being an ass to Christie on Tuesday. I won though.”

He should probably have given a bit more elaboration to the outcome, if for no other reason than to make it sound remotely believable. But there was still uneaten food on his plate. And Christie nodded in support of what he’d said so there was that. Besides, word was bound to get around sooner or later, if it hadn’t already. At minimum, he knew for a fact that it was already making the rounds on social media.

“Not exactly the expected outcome, that,” the Businessman commented, with an undertone that made it sound somewhat cryptic.

They ate in silence for a bit, until John had finished his plate. Whether the food had a fancy name or not, it tasted great, and between that and his uncharacteristic level of hunger, he was greatly tempted to ask for seconds. He wasn’t sure if that would be a good idea, though, unless impressing Christie’s father with his appetite was a valid way to clear the bonus objective.

Actually, it wasn’t clear if impressing him outside of the game session would even count or if it had to be while playing D&D. That line of thought made him realize that there might be something there that could distract him from his stomach and make for conversation that all three could participate in. “I was wondering, Christie said that the game was based on Oriental stuff. Is that a style and fluff thing or does it come with significant homebrew? And which edition are we playing? I’ve mostly looked at 5th and 3rd.”

Unexpectedly, this question brought Christie to an embarrassed blush again, while her father chuckled. After a moment of him finishing his mouthful and John being confused, Archibald responded, “I believe I’m responsible for a bit of confusion here. I recommended that it be referred to as ‘D&D’ to others, at least initially. There is a significantly higher chance that that would bring some level of understanding than using some permutation of ‘Tabletop Roleplaying Game’. The actual system is an unnamed one of my own creation, that could reasonably be called ‘D&D adjacent’. I trust that will not be an issue?”

’Sometimes it do be like that’. Responding to Archibald in memes probably wasn’t the greatest idea, even if the businessman apparently had something of a nerdy side to him. “Not at all, I enjoy picking up new systems. At least I very much hope I do, given that I’ve gotten to try something like a third of the ones I’ve read the rules for.”

The self-deprecating jest coaxed a giggle out of Christie, so John unabashedly chalked that one up as a win. Even if a spared glance at Archibald’s nameplate still put the RS at 0.

“It uses the familiar attribute array and foundational mechanics are largely of the ‘roll to exceed a target number’ type, but I suspect it will be easier and more effective to absorb the rules while playing, or else in writing, than through conversation.”

“True, but we can still talk about the stuff that isn’t mechanics, right? Like, the story so far or-” he turned towards Christie, “-what your character is like, in broad terms and backstory and stuff.”

Christie seemed conflicted between wanting to speak and hesitancy to do so for a moment. Then Archibald made a ‘hmm’ sound in a tone that didn’t sound like he was actually pondering something, and she went ahead, “My character is from a rural village. She was born blind, but an old man shrine keeper taught her how to navigate and live normally in spite of it. When war came to the area, it turned out that the shrine keeper was a retired ascetic warrior, and those lessons were also the foundation of his martial arts.”

The ensuing conversation lasted the rest of dinner, during which John did get a second serving without even having to ask. Afterwards, they headed to the ‘game room’ on the top floor. In addition to another hardwood table to play at, it was lined with shelves and display cases holding books and painted miniatures.

The miniatures ranged from Greek hoplites and Roman legionnaires, across plated medieval knights and lines of musketmen, to modern soldiers. It also had war machines from the various eras, a bunch of anachronistic mixes, like people in medieval plate wielding **** rifles, and fantastical stuff like pegasi cavalry, dragons, and a pair of steampunk-y mechs.

The books were mostly titled in French, which John was less than confident in his ability to read right at a glance. An assessment that his speed reading Perk substantiated by not working on them. The remainder were a mix of English, German, Russian and one or two non-Japanese Asian languages, as best he could tell. Of those, John only understood English and those titles seemed to be accounts of battles and wars, though not ones he recognized off the top of his head.

While John had taken a moment to admire the collection, Archibald and Christie had taken out the stuff for the game from drawers in the game table itself. In addition to the usual suspects of dice and character sheets and such, there was a device that John had managed to identify as a braille computer after seeing Christie bring one, possibly the same one, to French class. Presumably, its use here was to track her character resources and inventory, as well as ‘rolling’ for her.

The GM handed John an actual softcover book, albeit a fairly thin one, with the player facing and character creation rules. Between his reading Perk and some direction on what parts he needed to look at now, it didn’t take long to get to the actual character creation. That, in turn, was also fairly quick and straightforward, and less than half an hour after John opened the book, they were ready to play.

He had gone with a supportive backline caster to complement Christie’s melee combatant. More specifically, it was a mix of wizard and caster cleric-y elements that used mystic calligraphy on paper charms and scrolls to cast spells. John got the feeling that Archibald found that choice mildly amusing for some reason.

The game itself started out a little stiffly, but that fit well enough with their characters being strangers meeting under the less than ideal circumstances of a trading post being beset by undead from a nearby, months-old battlefield. The GM struck a good balance between succinct and evocative narration, though, and in short order both John and Christie were fully immersed.