[Corwen, you’re going to need to show my quest screen, unless you’ve found a way around that,] I think.
I will have an hour or so to see what I would have received before I get the class popup. The locals see the aether cores as essentially gods and consider it to be unlucky to refuse to do a quest. As someone who never actually completed the main quest of more than one open-world RPG, I don’t have that problem. I am, however, curious.
I raise an eyebrow. So I no longer have a quest to kill “Grabrat”, and don’t have a quest to kill Milo Grubwick. I never got a message saying my party defeated him, but it still counted anyway. Technicalities. That’s probably why the reward was forfeit. I wonder what the reward would have been? There’s another tab in the journal for completed quests.
I don’t think my eyebrows could get any higher at this point. I suppose it’s just as well that I don’t want to be a [Heroic Child], whatever that might do. It’s not one mentioned in Corwen’s library and I didn’t even realize there could be a 17th child class. I guess some skills and classes are only unlocked due to quests or special circumstances.
I think neither Corwen nor Grubwick wanted Milo and I to fight. Tempest did. Suddenly this game they were playing makes sense. They wanted to avoid manipulation from other cores. Doing so would shut off their own ability to manipulate us, but both of us have the Rebellious trait and we refuse quests we don’t like anyway, so they’d be better off just letting us do whatever we want anyway. Griza’s interference was likely due to a quest she’d received from Tempest.
Would I have been more or less likely to do it if I’d seen “Defeat Grabrat Grubwick” the moment I laid eyes on Milo?
I open up the first quest.
I open up the quest “Investigate the Eldritch infestatiion”.
Um. Right, that’s probably something I need to know about. However, although I would hope to be Legendary rank in 63 years if I’m still alive, I can’t be the sole person who will save all of Tempest. Surely there’s more Legendaries here than just the ones who left. We’ve got a fair number of Epics, don’t we? And I’m sure as the timer ticks down, more and more people will be getting this quest, unless that random infestation was the only advance warning.
In any case, it’s not something I immediately need to worry about or do anything different than I’m already doing. It’s not like I wasn’t going to look up ‘Eldritch’ in Crux Academy’s library once I got there. Although it may have slipped my mind to ask Liz when she visited because I hadn’t been staring at my quest log for years, itching to clear it off. Whatever, it’s probably not urgent. And if it’s urgent, there’s no way a Basic-rank almost-7-year-old is the best one for the job.
I would imagine that I’ll be getting a lot more quests once I’m older and travel more.
I wish I could see what the actual bonuses were, but I can’t even see what my exact experience is. In any case, assuming they’re all the same bonus, [Creative Child] is obviously inferior to the other two. If the bonus is only in effect when crafting or designing an item, that means it’s limited in how often it’s active.
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Even [Tranquil Child] would actually be a better option if I didn’t have [Psychic Child] available, since I’m pretty sure I could stay calm most of the time. (Maybe I’m overestimating how calm I might be in a tense situation.)
I decide to go with Liz’s idea and choose [Psychic Child]. I know I can keep [Aura Sight] up at all times. And despite still wanting to do crafting, I don’t want to only do crafting. Somehow it just feels right.
I quickly look at the description while the quest journal is still accessible.
The quest log disappears again.
[Corwen, why do the Heavens do things this way?] I wonder. [Why three choices? Why give choices at all?]
The longer I stay down here, the more psychic energy me and Corwen exchange. The closer we bond, I think. Apple and Ash were forced to live in the core room early on due to lack of shelter, and so were willing to die in defense of it. I don’t imagine people who spent a lot of time away from the Hearth would get as much exposure in either direction. I affect Corwen and it affects me.
I want its experiment to succeed. I want to prove free will is valid. A little more chaos to stir things up and maybe cause something new to happen.
Before I can acquire some skill named Discipline (Navel-Gazing), I thank Corwen and return to my room. Burdock and Griffin have not gone to bed yet and are still awake waiting for me.
“What did you pick? What did you pick?” Griffin asks, bouncing around.
“You’re not s’posed to just ask people that,” Burdock says.
“It’s fine,” I say, chuckling as I come in to sit down on my bed. “I’m now a [Psychic Child].”
“Cool!” Griffin exclaims. “Now you can know everything about everything and point us to fun things to do!”
“I… could probably actually do that,” I say thoughtfully. “But I have a lot of skill grinding ahead of me and there’s no books on it here so I’m just guessing and thinking a lot, and digging up some memories. And I know way more than I’m comfortable knowing ‘cuz I’ve lived a bajillion lives.”
Come morning, there’s a few people I need to talk to and some questions I need to ask. Meadow, Anise, Daisy, Lily and baby Raven are conveniently gathered at the same table over breakfast so I don’t have to hunt them down one by one. I grab a bowl of some bland porridge that thankfully contains no bat meat and sit down next to them.
“And here’s the nameday boy now,” Anise says. “Are you going to share, or keep your new class under wraps?”
“[Psychic Child],” I say.
I give everyone a chance to congratulate me before breaking to them why I really approached their table.
“Did any of you do any research into the eldritch?” I ask.
“A bit, but I didn’t find much,” Meadow says. “Rumors of things that can cause Sanity damage just from looking at them.”
“Sorry, the only books I’ve read that mention it are physically implausible adult fiction,” Anise says.
“I am seven years old and not even slightly thinking about that,” I say firmly, turning to look at Daisy and Lily.
“It’s not something I ever specifically researched,” Lily says. “Why?”
“We ran into an eldritch infestation in the Wisteria Grove a couple years ago,” I explain. “Was I the only one given a quest for it?”
“I thought you didn’t get quests,” Lily says.
“Apparently I do, just not from Corwen, and I can’t see my quest journal,” I say. “Except it needed to be unblocked in order for me to pick a class, so I was able to see my quests for the first time.”
“I didn’t get one,” Anise says, and Meadow also shakes her head. “It probably only went to the party leader. You, namely.”
“The pertinent bit is that there will be an eldritch invasion in the year 800.”
“Oh yeah,” Daisy says. “In accordance with ancient scheduling, a disaster of some sort happens at the end of every century.”
“Well, we’ve made it through seven others,” Anise says. “I’m sure we’ll make it through this one, especially since we know what to prepare for. Assuming any of us are even still alive in 800.”
“What was the last one?” I ask. “I suppose I’ll need to ask someone older than us for that.”
“Go ask Uncle Falcon to tell the story again,” Anise says. “He’s told it before, you know. You probably just weren’t paying attention. You spend an awful lot of time in your own little world, making stuff and running all over the place.”
“I won’t dispute that.”
Uncle Falcon is sitting by the hearth fire and sipping a cup of tea when I approach. Tea, and not booze? He’s been a bit subdued since his mother, my aunt Myrtle, left. “Good morning, Drake. What can I do for you on your naming day?”
“Can you tell me about what happened in 700?” I ask. “I heard there was some sort of disaster but uh, I wasn’t paying attention if you mentioned it before.”
Uncle Falcon laughs. “At least you’re honest. Ah, I was 20 and Elite at the time, so I fear my only contribution was in thinning the minions. That was when Aunt Heather and Aunt Laurel attained their Legendary rank. The monster swarms in 799 did not retreat as they typically do when the dark season ended, and only increased throughout 800. In that year’s dark season, a Legendary boss emerged from the Underside, bringing with it an army. A mighty elder storm dragon! And it came leading a host of lesser dragons and dragonkin. Our Epics and those of several other Hearths banded together to bring it down while the rest of us fended off seemingly endless numbers of kobolds.”
I tell him about the quest I received from the Wisteria Garden. (And have to repeat the whole explanation about my quest journal again.)
“Ah, good on that sweet dungeon for giving a warning of what’s to come,” Uncle Falcon says. “I doubt I will make Epic before I die, so it will likely be up to your generation to deal with it. Hopefully you’ll have made at least Epic by then. Let me tell you something, youngun. Don’t get old. Bad idea all around. Now I’m seeing elderhood loom ahead of me and I fear I failed to achieve enough.”
“Well, whatever happens, I don’t intend to die of old age,” I say.
“Good lad. Better to get yourself eaten by a monster than get a single gray hair or wrinkle.” He chuckles heartily.