Nameless Adventures

  System information:

  Location: Red

  Date and Time: Stone, 14th of Saytr, Light Red

  Red part one

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  Chapter One: Arrival

  Three adventures stood in a line from tallest to smallest as a man made of glass examined them. The adventurers took no notice of the man. Or their surroundings. Or of anything at all. Instead, they wore glassy-eyed expressions, staring off into the distance. All they seemed capable of doing was breathing, and they didn’t seem to be doing that particularly well. The tallest one had snot leaking from her nose, which resulted in her inhaling breaths to take on a heavy sniffling sound.

  The glass man frowned at this discovery. Not having any fluids in his body made him particularly disgusted by those who did, which was just about everyone. He was fine in theory with natural bodily functions, so long as they kept things like runny noses, tears, or, heavens forbid, bleeding in the privacy of their own home. Everywhere else was a place to keep one's fluids inside one's personhood. Despite his preferences, the tallest adventure was leaking.

  “What’s wrong with them?” asked the glass man. He was surrounded by guardsmen, but his question was directed at the Adventure’s minder, the head of the Adventurer’s guild. Although the group stood on the edge of a wintery forest in the middle of the night, the guild head wore what we, Fair Readers, know as a French maid’s outfit. Not that anyone present knew what the Nation of France was. To everyone, it was just an overtly frilly maid outfit. They knew what maids were. The woman’s arms were bare, and her high-heeled shoes were impractical for the snow. She gave no notice of the cold.

  Instead, she pulled down her goggles, which rested between two long, black pigtales, on her head before examining the smallest adventurer. “They’re set to twilight mode. They’re basically sleepwalking right now. It's the easiest way to get them shipped. Adventurers, especially new ones, get sidetracked easily. You would be surprised how quickly they stumble into fights or get absorbed into helping someone in a tavern in exchange for something shiny. Or cats. Adventures really seem to like cats.”

  “Well, get them out of it.” The glass man gave an annoyed ‘hrump’ sound. “I requested them weeks ago, and it does me no good if they’re broken straight off the train.”

  The guild head ignored the man, instead, she held open the eye of the middle adventure. His pupil dilated in reaction to a light crystal drawing near. The minder checked his pulse and his breathing and peeked inside his mouth before moving onto the other two.

  “They all seem to be in good shape,” the minder replied. “There are a few more things I have to check before they’re ready to be of service, but I need to go through their wake protocol first.” The adventurers each had a pack where a thick, leather-bound book rested. The minder placed each book face up in the adventurers’ hands.

  From there, the minder strolled in front of the glass man and his guards and turned her back to them. She placed her goggles on her head again and then said in a clear and concise voice, “Spines cracked.”

  The forest was filled with the sounds of the night, mice skittering through tunnels, owls on the hunt, tree branches snapping and bending under the weight of the snow, and yet… Every guardsman that night would attest to the deafening sound of three books opening simultaneously. The newly bound spines cracked open for the first time, their spines bending and shaping as their owners realized they were conscious living beings.

  The three adventurers looked around wide-eyed and panicked as their minder snapped her fingers repeatedly at them, “Hello, Adventures. I am V1.13, the head of this town’s adventuring guild. You may call me 1-13. Not one POINT thirteen, not one hundred and thirteen, and certainly not January 13th. Understand?”

  “What’s a January?” asked the tall adventurer. 1-13 smiled at this response.

  “Before I explain who you are, what you’re doing, and where you are, I need to make sure you’re calibrated correctly. I am going to ask you some questions. Please wait your turn before speaking.”

  1-13 stood in front of the smallest adventurer. She was dainty, dressed in blue, with a wide-brimmed pointy hat to match. She was a pretty little thing with long, brown hair that delicately framed her face. She stared up at 1-13 with blue eyes, wild with fright, similar to a deer caught in a trap. 1-13 ignored this emotion and asked, “If you had ten dollars in your pocket and were on your way to the movies, what kind of snacks would you buy?”

  “I…” The small adventure’s voice quivered, “I-I don’t understand what you’re asking me.”

  “Excellent, moving on,” 1-13 said, sidestepping to face the middle adventure. He was the only man in this party, and his expression was calm. He observed 1-13 with his dark eyes. Despite the chainmail around his torso, he seemed to be the quietest of the three. 1-13’s goggles indicated that the man’s heart rate was the highest. His breathing was deep and slow. Was he panicking and hiding it? Angry? Uncertain, perhaps. His eyebrows lowered slightly, challengingly. Men like that were either wonderful or terrible adventures. The worst kind of adventures were a mixture of the two.

  “Do you like pina coldas?” Asked 1-13, “And how do you feel about getting lost in the rain?”

  “I don’t know what that first thing is,” The man replied slowly, “But getting lost in the rain sounds unpleasant.”

  “Interesting. Interesting,” 1-13 replied and turned to the final adventure, the tall woman. She had wiped away the snot from her nose, glancing around her surroundings with a nervous bubbling energy. She was quick to smile, 1-13 noted. It was a nervous smile, naturally. Like the short one, her eyes were blue, though a lighter shade, and the smile on her lips wasn’t reflected in them. Gazing up at her, 1-13 instructed, “Finish this phrase ‘Welcome to Good Burger, home of the Good Burger, can I take your-’ What word or words would you use to finish off this sentence?’’

  “Um…” The tall adventure bit her lip, “Can I take your jacket for you? Is that correct?”

  “The phrases I used were nonsense. They have no meaning; any response other than confusing would indicate your brains weren’t functioning correctly.” 1-13 turned to the glass man, “Your adventuring party is calibrated. Allow me to make introductions and explain the situation to them.”

  The adventurers stirred, their muscles stiff from such a long waking slumber. The small one shivered and tried to adjust the cloak over her shoulders but dropped her book in the process. Flustered, she tried to pick it up from the snow. It slipped out of her hands twice before she could retrieve it. The tall one shuffled from foot to foot before her gaze rested on the glass man. Her eyebrows shot up, and she glanced at her companions to see if they shared in her confusion. They didn’t. The small one was smacking snow off the leather cover of her book. The man stood steady. His eyes swept over the scene, book tucked under his arm, as he waited.

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  1-13 cleared her throat, “Greetings, Adventurers. You are brand new to this life, and while things may be confusing now, soon enough, you will fall into your roles. In each of your hands is a compendium. It will automatically keep track of everything you need to know. And right now, it has everything you need to know about yourselves.” Immediately, the three opened their books, but 1-13 put a hand up, “Please do that on your own time. Right now, you’re on assignment. You three are unnamed adventurers. In time, if you do enough of a decent job, a town or city or some such will bestow upon you a name. You may even get a title if you do enough good. For right now, everyone will refer to you by your class.” She pointed to the tallest, “You are a bard.” To the man she said, “You are an unclaimed paladin,” And to the smallest adventurer she said, “And you are a mage. Today is the first day you draw breath in this world, but your compendium lists the physical age. Any questions so far?”

  Bard raised her hand and said, “My brain is hot?”

  “That’s not a question,” 1-13 informed her.

  “My brain is hot because it has too many questions.” The bard lowered her hand.

  “Maybe try putting your head in the snow to cool off till a single question occupies your mind?” suggested Mage, peering over at her companion. Bard shrugged and leaned into the snow, prompting the guards to let out a round of laughter.

  Paladin wheeled towards Bard, yanking her back out of the cold. “Stop that!” His ears colored pink as he hissed softly to Bard, “Don’t embarrass us.” Bard gave a shake of her head. Blond hair from her ponytail stuck to the side of her face, leaving red, wet marks on her skin from the snow.

  “Did it work?” Mage asked.

  “Yes. Maybe.” Bard turned to face 1-13, “It seems all of you are elves.” She glanced at the man made of glass, including him in her statement. Despite his glassy skin, his ears were pointed. “So what are we?”

  “Adventures.” 1-13 replied with a sigh, “You are adventures. All of your kind are adventures. You magically span all over the world. It is my job, and the job of other Guildheads, to send you areas where you are best suited to help. You three were chosen to be sent to this village to help the Mayor with his problem.” 1-13 gestured to the glass man, who was indeed wearing a satin sash with ‘The Mayor’ embroidered in glimmering black letters. Was it enchanted to be perceivable in the dark?

  “I am The Mayor.” The glass man was round, perfectly round, with his head and limbs sticking off at the top and sides. His body was the right shade of dark green to match an ale bottle. He had a mustache formed from clear glass and a ring of clear hair under a top hat. His eyes were a solid brown with some sort of glimmer of light behind them. And when he blinked, it was more of a glass pane sliding down over his eyes like a curtain rather than blinking.

  The small adventurer raised her hand slowly, “Is your name ‘The Mayor’ or is it your title?”

  Displeased with this interruption, The Mayor gave an annoyed scoff, “Both. Though that's neither here nor th-”

  “So you’re Mayor Mayor?” Bard frowned slightly, mulling this over, “Or are you The Mayor, the Mayor?”

  “Are you sure it's not Mayor the Mayor?” asked Mage.

  “Mayor Mayor sounds better.” Bard said, giving the mayor a polite nod of approval, “Very curt, very to the point, plus it's fun to say. Mayor Mayor.”

  The Mayor leaned over to 1-13, “You are right; they are very easily distracted. I do not enjoy conversing with them. I don’t like the way they speak. Take over from here, I shall be in my carriage.” The Mayor strolled beyond his guards to where a carriage sat. It was a rather large apple, formed of red, green, and yellow glass and set upon large, wooden wheels. The sparse street lamps gave it an otherworldly shimmering effect.

  1-13 gave the adventuring party a roll of her deep brown eyes, “For future reference, it is best to wait before speaking. Do not anger the people paying you.” The soldiers marched to the front of the carriage. Horses began to trot forward, the wheels of the giant apple rolled, the guards marched, and the adventurers and their guild leader began to walk through the snow. 1-13 continued to speak, “You will arrive at you’re temporary residency soon. I suggest you give your compendiums a thorough read. You have a lot of questions. Oh, and check your forearms.” She gestured forward, ushering them forward, lingering a distance behind.

  When 1-13 was a small figure in the distance, Bard broke the silence of the night, “So…” Her eyes flickered to the carriage, to the dark woods on either side of them, then back at 1-13, who seemed to be following them from a distance, “What do you think is on our forearms?” She slid her backpack off and shoved her book inside. The slow pace allowed her to pause and look at her companions’ books as well. They were different colors. Bard narrowed here eyes, deciding what line of question to follow: the forearms mystery or the book differences. The forearm mystery seemed more pressing.

  With a slight stumble, Bard managed to slide her backpack back on and maneuver her cloak open. Cool air hit her exposed skin, despite her oatmeal colored sweater. Two more lines of thought crossed her mind. The first was that she liked oatmeal. The second one was: if she was spawned in existence today, how did she know she liked oatmeal?

  She took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing thoughts. She pulled up the sleeve of her right arm up to her elbow. Three pink, crystal hearts sat gleaming back at her. She tapped one, it was hard and cold and a part of her body.

  “Huh,” she said to herself, “I feel like this is new.” Her fingers twitched with questions, but she was distracted by Paladin.

  “Can you put my compendium in my pack?” He asked Mage. He wanted to know if he also had a set of pink hearts on his arm. There was a weight behind him. Paladin knew what it was without looking. His claymore. His lifeline. The reason his pack was hard to get off.

  “Oh,” Mage squeaked in reply, her voice soft and unsure, “Let me just put mine away first.” Paladin watched her secure her own compendium before he handed over his. A black bracer covered his left wrist, which he unbuckled. He could feel the eyes of his companions as his hearts were exposed. They were a deep burgundy and shaped like a crystalline version of the heart he knew was inside his chest. The valves of the heart were part of the gumental gray setting. His hearts also numbered five.

  Mage checked her forearms last. Like the other two adventurers, she had what seemed like a piece of jewelry growing out of her arm. Two smooth, blue hearts sat on her right forearm. They were a lovely light blue color, with a pearlesent sheen to it.

  “What do you make of them?” Mage asked, rolling down the sleeve of her dress and bundling up under her cloak.

  “I’m sure the compendium will tell us.” Paladin said with a kind nod, “1-13 seems to be confident that would handle all over questions.”

  “I’m not sure it will,” Bard said. It was intended more to herself than to her companions. Her mind was filled with questions. How could a man be made of glass? Who was she? Where was she? Why were their books different colors? Did she really just suddenly spring into life? What was a Good Burger or a January?

  The remark, however, caused Paladin to glare at her. “Of course it will! We were told to read our compediums to get our answers! Everything we need to know should be in there!”

  Bard glared back, “How can you be so sure? Explain oatmeal to me then!”

  Wha-? Paladin furrowed his brow, disliking whatever was happening. He could obviously explain oatmeal. It was oats and… hot water, right? Maybe something else, but even if there was something else, why would he need to know what it was because oatmeal was irrelevant!

  “Why are you bringing up breakfast foods?!” Paladin hissed at her. He could feel his face getting heated, and the last thing he wanted to be was embarrassed by her in front of the guards again.

  “Please be quiet!” Mage whispered-shouted, her heart- her real heart- pounded desperately in her chest. Their bickering was sure to bring attention to them. Neither Bard nor Paladin seemed to be aware of the situation here. They were three nobodies in the middle of winter with no food, no shelter, and dependent on the whims of The Mayor. And he seemed to dislike them already. Plus, there was 1-13. Mage glances over her shoulder toward the figure in the distance. The guildhead was following them. That was obvious. And Mage sensed that she was listening. The best course of action for everyone was for the three adventurers to keep their heads down and go unnoticed.

  Paladin put his arm down in front of Mage, and the small woman nearly stumbled into it. She was too busy keeping her head down to notice that the carriage had stopped rolling. Paladin’s arm was the only thing that kept her from smacking her face on glass.

  A guard appeared around the side of the carriage; the corner of his lip twitched up, eyes glittered with amusement, “Frost slimes ahead. The Mayor wants to see how you handle a fight.”

  Mage swallowed nervously. It was time to get noticed.