Warm Welcomes

The rest of the walk in the forest, they talked about smaller guilds in the Springfield area. The long and short of it was that solid intel was spotty, but the risks and benefits were both smaller.

The smaller benefit was largely inherent to the guilds being smaller. Their name didn’t have the intimidating gravitas of greater guilds as a first shield against attacks, and they had fewer people and resources to protect one another with when the name failed.

Similarly, they had less ability to cause trouble for him if he discovered that he had joined a morally intolerable one and wanted to leave. The Springfield Accord also banned several things that John was keen to avoid, such as trading in Soul Shards and slavery. Not that this guaranteed it didn’t happen, but most small guilds would probably not risk it easily.

Along the way, his MP had gotten full and he had dialed the Background Create up to eat his whole MP Regen.

At the moment, they were in a barrier alley getting close to an exit in Springfield’s business district. When they reached it, instead of leaving, Qhila stopped and turned towards him.

“Now, Grave Concoctions is a bit further away from the alley exit than a 30 seconds’ walk. So I’m going to do something called ‘barrier hopping’ to get there safely. Basically, after about 20 seconds I create a small barrier and immediately leave it again, gaining another 30 seconds.”

“It’s a bit too mana heavy to go long distances like that, and if you open one that overlaps a larger barrier that isn’t hardened against it by a Fateweaver, you’ll end up merging into the bigger barrier which might get the owners angry. But it’s a useful trick for avoiding mundane notice.”

They did as described. With it being after normal business hours, the street was deserted, but Qhila was still doing the barrier hopping just in case. The shop itself had an old-school wooden sign shaped like a tombstone and depicting a cauldron.

Once inside, Qhila touched his hand and pulled them into a barrier that seemed identical to the regular interior of the shop. That interior certainly carried the old-school look on, with wooden furnishing and a plethora of glass and ceramic jars and bottles all looking fit for a Victorian era pharmacist. Adding to the vintage vibe, the shop was cast in candlelit twilight instead of any electrical lighting and the air wreathed in a pleasant, if a bit heavy, scent of incense.

Despite the bell on the door having announced their entry outside the barrier, the proprietress came forth from the back to greet them. She proved a mix of meeting expectations and defying them entirely. Wearing a hooded black dress with embroidered flowers that would be perfectly at home at a Renaissance fair, her outfit certainly matched the shop.

Between the name of the shop and the old-school appearance, however, he had half expected an old crone witch along the lines of Grunty from Banjo-Kazooie. Not a cute ravenette in her twenties with striking green eyes and the kind of gracefully pale complexion to make many a goth girl green with envy.

Emily MacLean
Lvl 26 Witch
Potions Master

‘Score one more for the “all Abyssal women in my age range are attractive” theory.’ The snarky part of John’s mind then added, ‘She could still have a green grandma though.’

“[Welcome to Grave Concoctions, where all your herbal needs be met. How can I help you?]” The line had the sound of an oft repeated slogan.

“[Two bags of nobleweed flower.]” Hearing Qhila’s clipped, oddly enunciated English after getting used to talking to her in Low Draconic was a weird experience. The juxtaposition between her actual self and sounding like the Hollywood stereotype of mentally deficient was stronger than ever.

“[Coming right up.]” Emily turned her attention to John. “[What about you?]”

“[Oh, I’m just tagging along. Unless you have a Dummy’s Guide to Flowers out back.]” For some reason, Emily giggling at that was precisely the thing that made the significance of John’s CHA increases hit home. A week ago, having a girl he’d just met respond positively to a joke of his was a complete pipe dream.

Emily moved to get the nobleweed from a drawer, chatting as she went, “[Are you new in town or just in my shop?]”

“[I’m new in to the A-]” Qhila’s tail slapping against his shin reminded him that he was supposed to keep that under wraps. Snipping the sentence with a fake cough, he lamely finished with, “[Sorry. The area.]”

It didn’t sound convincing to John, but either Emily didn’t show it or Bluff patched it over well enough. “[In that case, welcome to Springfield. I’m Emily, nice to meet you.]”

“[Nice to meet you too, I’m John,]” the Gamer responded as the herbalist returned to the register. “[And while I’d love to stay and chat for a bit, I’m afraid we’re in a bit of a hurry today…]”

The witch nodded, ran up the wares and looked at Qhila. “[70 dollars.]”

While the kobold paid and received two closed, brown paper bags, John pondered the cost. He couldn’t recall if he had actually seen nobleweed on the Abyss Auction, but he was pretty sure nothing in the alchemy ingredients category had gone for less than 40.

“[Please come again.]” Emily’s parting words were accompanied by a smile that felt too genuine to be mere customer service.

‘I probably will.’ Not wanting to make a promise of it, he just gestured by way of goodbye and left the barrier with Qhila, a notification that was probably his Quest completion incrementing the stack.

Qhila had been in an understandable hurry to get started on the alchemy when they got back to her nest, but she had promised to let him know the results ASAP. Jogging home via barrier alleys was a fairly quick affair, and between his recent stat improvements and Enhance Muscle, he wasn’t even winded.

That last bit had prompted another notification for his pile too, so either it or Biomancy had probably gained a Skill Level. He had considered checking the pile on his way home, but that’d slow him down and he was already running late for dinner.

Besides not wanting to give his mother more reason than necessary to look into what he was doing lately, being late also shrunk the amount of time he had for visiting Marisa after dinner. Better to leave the notifications until he went to bed.

“Welcome home, sweetie.” Despite being late, Brenda greeted him with a smile. Such wonders a little advance notice could work. Well, that and his mom thinking he might be getting a girlfriend. “Did you have a nice day?”

“Mostly, yeah. I helped Qh- Kira gather some mats, no, that’s not an euphemism, while we talked. Then the, uh, rat thing happened. It had gotten trapped and raised a racket, so I had to bash it with a bat. And, you know, get things sorted…” That was… well, it wasn’t honest as such, but he felt better about grossly misrepresenting events than just making something up wholesale.

“Good thing she had a knight in shining armor on hand then.” Following it with a giggle, Brenda was clearly joking, but it made him realize that it was a fairly apt description of the events of Monday afternoon.

Could the RP on the Achievement have been just an assessment of the effect of his actions after all? Were some rewards always just a numerical assessment, even when not labeled as such, while others were created by his power like the extra money from helping Grandpa Sam?

“Earth to John,” his mom nudged his shoulder. While he’d been spaced out on that consideration, she had brought the dinner from the stove to the otherwise already set table.

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

“You’ve been doing that more the last few days than you do when you just got a new game.” She giggled again. “I asked if you were sure she didn’t need somewhere else to stay for a bit.”

“Err, I forwarded the invitation and I can do so again if you want, but I think there might be something about losing her place if she stays away for too long.”

“I’m not sure that’s actually a legal clause to have as long as she pays rent…” Brenda frowned. “And in any case, her landlord is responsible for dealing with pests. I can’t remember the clause numbers and stuff though, but Dad will be happy to help with that.”

… Walked right into that one. John had been thinking about how his barrier Skill implied that they started to decay when he left, but of course his mom would think of rental agreements. And send him to Grandpa to sort it out.

Sam had invested for retirement by buying several houses in the area and renting them out. Which was how a single mother with nothing but a high school diploma could afford as much living space for her and John as they had: the rent that Brenda insisted on paying some form of to her father was extremely low.

“I’ll make sure to ask him when I get the chance, but the next few days might be a bit busy…” It took John a moment to think of how to justify that assessment to his mom. “Actually, about that, I’m eating dinner elsewhere tomorrow if that’s okay with you. Turns out Christie’s father is running a D&D group on Thursday evenings, and she got me invited. To play and to dinner.”

“Ohoho, meeting the parents already?” The teasing smirk on his mother’s face only contributed to the heat rising in his cheeks.

“W- n- Tha- It’s not like that! I already told you my intentions are purely friendly! And weren’t you talking about me and Qhil- Kira five minutes ago? I’m not some two-timing sleazeball!” John intentionally overplayed the indignation in that last sentence, pushing Brenda from giggles to fully laughing in the process.

“You may be all grown up, but you’re still adorable when you’re flustered.”

“Gee, thanks, Mom, just the thing every guy wants to hear.” The faux-indignation set Brenda giggling again, while John started eating. The rest of dinner passed with inconsequential topics and a bit about his mom’s day. She did most of the talking, though, because the moment he put food in his mouth, John discovered that he had worked up quite an appetite without really noticing.

For some reason, knocking on Marisa’s door felt awkward. Despite being invited and having already checked by text that she was indeed available. And despite having literally seen her naked. Actually, that last bit might be the cause…

After a 5 minute long eternity of hesitation, John managed to quell his nerves enough to knock.

[Marisa]: Door’s open. I’m in the living room ;)

… Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained. He stepped inside and was immediately struck by the normalcy of the interior. The layout mirroring that of his own house was expected but for some reason he had expected something exceptional out of the decor.

He wasn’t really sure where the expectation had come from. After all, what he had seen of her bedroom through the window had all been mundane enough to give him no clue at all that Marisa was an Abyssal even after he knew about the Abyss. Though, now that he thought about it, he really should have paid at least a moment of attention to her nameplate back then…

Perhaps the real reason was that the only other Abyssal home he had seen was Qhila’s nest, which was unusual by way of being a barrier-copy of a pump room. In any case, he wasn’t sure exactly what he had expected. Blades hung on the walls and an ice castle vibe maybe? Or gilt surfaces and rose motifs since Marisa was with the Order of the Golden Rose?

In any case, it looked entirely normal and generic. In fact, if he had to put a finger on something at all, it might be a bit too generic. But only to a degree that wasn’t noticeable unless you were specifically looking for something unusual.

That train of thought came to a sudden stop when he entered the living room. Marisa was in there wearing yoga pants. And only yoga pants. That is to say, she was in the process of putting on a black shirt that was currently wrapped around her arms and head, thus giving John a mouth-watering side view of her firm, full breasts.

While John stood there and was deeply appreciative that Climax Control kept him from going to more than half mast, and that the anime trope of arousal induced nosebleed had no basis in reality, Marisa finished getting dressed. With a wide smirk, she nodded towards the couch. “Hey, Johnny, make yourself at home. I expected you to linger at least half a minute longer in the hallway, considering how long you were standing around outside the door.”

Pulling himself out of his best deer-in-headlights impression, John made his way to the couch. He was pretty sure he’d been on his way to an embarrassed blush before she poked fun at his hesitation, but pretending that the jest was the reason seemed like a great plan at the moment.

A plan that wasn’t exactly helped along by Marisa’s shirt hiding too little to keep his mind’s eye from reliving all the instances of him seeing more. It was cropped very short, leaving a full view of her lightly toned midriff and teasing a sliver of underboob. Between that and a generous cleavage, John was pretty sure more than half the fabric was in the sleeves. As icing on the cake, there was either a peculiarity in the weave of the cloth that couldn’t be accidentally placed or her nipples were creating slight but visible bumps.

Before John could gather his thoughts enough to ask anything, Marisa scrambled his efforts again by bending over by a bunch of boxes of canned drinks by the wall. Her butt was pointed pretty much straight at him, and while the yoga pants technically did cover more than her shirt, they hugged the curves of her heart shaped posterior so tightly it almost might as well not have been covered at all. As if that wasn’t enough, her stance gave him a narrow view of underboob cleavage framed by her thighs.

“Want anything to drink? I’ve got ice tea, beer and some sodas.” Conveniently, the stack of various kinds of soda was the only one she wasn’t in the way of him seeing. Though it did take some effort to tear his eyes off her in order to actually take a look.

“Uh, I, err, sprite please,” was all John managed to put together in his distraction. ‘Note to self. Charisma is useless when you’re too distracted to think.’ As she returned, Marisa used her powers to coat the cans in a thin layer of rime, presumably chilling the contents at the same time. She slid the soda to John and took a swig of her beer.

“So, we’ve got about an hour and a half before I’ve gotta go, but if you stay any later, your mom’s gonna get interesting ideas about what we’re doing anyway.” Well, that certainly didn’t help John get rid of the burning sensation in his cheeks. “You had questions about the Goldies, the Order of the Golden Rose, that is, and about general Abyss stuff, right? Fire away, dude.”

Okay. Game face time. This was important, and he was gonna get derailed and miss or forget shit if his mind was full of glorious breasts and gropeable butt. Plus, the opener had the potential to turn the whole thing sour fast. Best to show he was taking things seriously.