Tristan

To say that Sophie's mood had been soured by the Tier Guard incident was putting it mildly. She barely spoke to Tristan as they made their way through the streets of Perpetua, toward an exit, Tristan assumed.

"We should hire a coach," she eventually said.

"Alright." Tristan remembered well how big the City of Endless Growth had felt when they were first heading to see the memorial to Cinderbark. "Are we hiring someone to take us all the way to Rockmoor though?"

Sophie was quiet for a while. "We could splurge and hire a portal."

It was a good idea, and one that would take weeks off their travel time, but from everything he'd ever heard, portals usually came at a substantial cost. The only portal Tristan had ever taken in his life was the free one to Perpetua offered by Sovereign's divine domain.

I know she's good for it, but we just talked about not wanting to rely on her wealth like that.

"How much would it cost?" he asked.

"Not nearly enough to be a concern," was her reply.

Tristan mulled it over for a while as Sophie proceeded to one of the larger roads where she began trying to hail a coach.

As soon as one stopped, she turned to Tristan. "Decision time. Would you rather take the scenic route, or get there faster?"

"I think this time, the scenic route will be nice. We flew over everything on the way here. I kind of want to see what we missed."

"Sure," she responded.

When the driver opened the door for them, Sophie gave him a big speech about how they needed him to at least take them out of Perpetua, but if he could take them all the way to Rockmoor, he'd get double the standard rate.

The man twirled his sculpted, pointy mustache, which also managed to show off the rings on nearly every one of his fingers. "To Rockmoor? Sovereign above, girl, that would take me nearly a month. I've got a family here to look after, and things have been getting tight. They need my income to make ends meet."

As Tristan looked at the driver, he couldn't imagine that the man or his family--if he even had one--were in any sort of dire straits. His clothes were too new, his nails too polished and colorful.

He's either not interested in taking us or trying to get more money without asking for it.

Sophie must have come to the same conclusion. "What about triple the rate," she offered, "with a full third of it up front to give to your family?" She loaded the last word with enough sass to make it plain that she doubted his story.

"Well that is a more generous offer," the man said, twisting his sculpted mustache. "But you see, while you would only be traveling there, I must go and return, which might end up being a lot of wasted time."

"I'm sure you could find fares along the return route," Sophie countered. "Travelers from Rockmoor head to Perpetua quite often."

"But what are the odds that I will encounter one? Hmmm. It could prove... unlikely."

Tristan: Does he just want us to pay more, or is he actually trying to get us to find someone else? I can't tell any more. Sophie: Oh, he's definitely trying to milk us. Time to give the line some slack and see if he'll pull at it again.

"Well, thanks for your time then," Sophie said, stepping out of the coach. "We really can't afford more than that. Would you happen to know someone who makes longer treks all the time, and maybe point us in their direction? It'll be a hefty amount of experience for a driver, and with all those weeks of travel, I'd hate for someone to miss out on it."

"Now hold on a moment," the driver insisted, gesturing for them to wait with both hands up. "Just because I'm not crazy about the idea doesn't mean I won't do it. I'm as good a driver as anyone in this city. I just don't know if I'm all that interested in such a long commitment."

"Oh, that makes sense," Sophie said, sounding sincere. "I mean, I don't know much about driver Classes, but I can only imagine the skill choices one might need to make in order for such a journey to be feasible. I'm sure we can find someone with the right specialization for the job, and maybe even with a quest for covering such a large distance..."

"I do have one for completing a really long-distance fare..." the driver acknowledged, eyes narrowing.

"And how good are the rewards?" Sophie asked.

"If it takes weeks--or even months--to achieve, it probably gives great rewards," Tristan supplied helpfully.

The driver twirled his mustache in thought for a while longer. "You're certain you want to go all the way to Rockmoor?"

Tristan decided to do something uncharacteristic and drop a name. "Unless you want to take us directly to Jamal's manor instead. That's where we're going, after all. I'm his student, as my title clearly displays."

The man's eyes widened, as he at last thought to use [Identify] on Tristan. He'd been fairly focused on Sophie so far, as she'd been the one doing most of the negotiating, so he clearly hadn't thought to truly appraise the large, bodyguard-looking man until that moment.

"Will, or rather might I, uh, possibly...?"

"You'd like to meet Jamal?" Sophie asked, looking skeptically at Tristan.

Tristan didn't need to see her sly wink to know that she thought they'd hooked the man. "I don't know. He's a recluse for a reason. He can be pretty grumpy around new people. Maybe if I spoke on your behalf though..."

The man brightened. "You'd do that for me?"

"Assuming you took us there, and maybe at a bit less than what we were offering before? It truly is the upward limit of what we can afford."

"But with Jamal as your patron--!"

"He's my teacher, not my patron. He doesn't really pay for things like that," Tristan corrected.

The driver was obviously deep in thought now, and he began pacing back and forth, seemingly making unspoken arguments both for and against, ticking off lots of fingers.

In the end, he agreed, with stipulations. "Well, if you can at least try to allow me to meet him, I'll agree to the bargained price. I do need to do some longer journeys for that quest. Speaking of which, I'm surprised you knew about what quests another person's Class might get."

Sophie smiled. "I'd like to think that I listen when people talk, and I've been on lots of long journeys before, many of which were headed up by quite the talkative drivers. Besides, it just makes sense that you'd have quests that both define your Path and make it stronger."

The man chuckled. "Well, it's nice for me and those like me to be appreciated, beyond the customary tip. The name's Gregory, by the way--and don't call me Greg. I knew a Greg growing up, and he was a prick."

Tristan opened and closed his mouth before settling on, simply, "Understood. I'm Tristan."

"Sophie."

And Poof added, "Meep," which Tristan now knew meant Poof.

"Right, if you two would climb aboard, I'll--"

"There are three of us," Sophie interrupted, raising Poof for the man to see.

The man looked at her with a pleasant, wolfish smile. "So I should be charging you passage for three then?" When Sophie didn't immediately respond, Gregory continued with a laugh. "As I was saying, you folks hop inside, and we'll begin our journey together!

"A few ground rules as we get going: if you want to stop, let me know as soon as possible. Especially notify me before you think about opening the coach door. I have a few fun skills that protect my passengers and cargo... and make a mess of anyone who attempts to open that door without my permission. We'll also make three stops for meals daily, though again if you want more, just let me know. I've got no problem stopping for snacks, as long as you keep them outside the coach. Too many riders haven't understood how hard I work to keep the fabric clean, you know?"

"Oh, I can definitely tell," Sophie said. "You've got one of the cleanest carriages I think I've ever ridden in."

"I appreciate you saying that, and I get the feeling that you're not just being nice now that I've agreed to help you. I guess we'll see. We've got a long journey ahead of us."

"What about sleep?" Tristan asked.

"I think you'll find the coach more comfortable than most beds you'd be able to rent out," the driver said proudly. "I take great pride in my craft."

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- - - - -

As it turned out, Gregory was annoyingly chatty, which made Tristan wonder if all drivers were that way. It's not like he'd ever been in the habit of hiring them back in Woodsedge. Where was there to go? But since leaving home, he had needed a few drivers, and none of them had seemed content to just keep to themselves. They'd always tried to engage with Tristan, who honestly could have done just fine with quiet.

For that first day, it felt like Gregory kept a running conversation the whole time. At least most of it had been with Sophie, who seemed content to entertain or at least smile and nod at him. But every so often Tristan felt the need to reply, too.

After enough hours had dragged on, and they finally passed through the gates of Perpetua, Tristan decided that he needed a different distraction. What better time to get more reading done? he thought. But which book?

This time he made the difficult decision to put the novel on hold in favor of the Newbie's Guide to Astral Languages. He hadn't made much progress with it yet, but he'd also only had it a few days. Since he'd deliberately decided to do this process the slow way, he knew not to expect instant results like a scroll. Anyway, they were about to have a long journey ahead--and with Poof potentially right there to speak to--it felt like a great time to practice.

Eventually Tristan was able to focus on his studying, and the driver's words began to blend into the background, much like the sounds of the road beneath them.

The first day then passed without much more of note. Sophie switched from Poof to Sneakers and got permission from Gregory to let the bird-like astral fly outside of the coach for a while.

When evening turned to night and Tristan got tired, he took the rear row of seats, leaving Sophie to the front, and laid down across them. The coach was wide enough that he didn't have to bend his knees too much. Better still, he found that Gregory hadn't been wrong for boasting about his carriage's comforts. The cushions seemed to welcome Tristan into a soft embrace that he hadn't expected. That first night, he slept more soundly than he had since leaving home.

It was shortly before midday when they finally passed through the city's gates and saw the vast, open fields beyond. They ate lunch on the second day at a mid-sized, roadside inn that still displayed some of the trappings he'd come to recognize as 'Perpetuan' in nature. Tristan figured it was so close to the huge city that it was only natural to be so heavily influenced.

The food was a bit salty for his tastes, but at least the people were pleasant.

The next day might have been totally unremarkable if not for one incident that nearly gave Tristan a heart attack. Midway through the afternoon, a sudden puff of black smoke began to rise from his [Endless Bag of Secure Holding]. Tristan had no idea what had happened and had assumed the worst, but checking within, he quickly understood: the written instructions that Egg had given him on how to upgrade his bag had disintegrated, just as the avian had warned him they would. In their place, he now had a [Pile of Ashes].

When he explained it all to Sophie, she thought it was hilarious. Both she and Sneakers laughed so long and hard that Tristan made a big show of getting back into his book.

The days flew by, with Tristan only really able to track progress by the blur of the countryside and the stops they made for meals. It seemed like Gregory must have been this way before, or perhaps he had a skill for it, because he kept finding great places to take breaks and eat. A few were off the main roads, or in little towns like Woodsedge where presumably only the locals would have known what was really good. Perhaps Gregory is local to one of these places, Tristan considered. Everyone's bound to be from somewhere.

That line of thought made him wonder about where his other traveling companion was from, though. Other than a few notable exceptions, Sophie had remained tight-lipped about her family and past. Tristan wondered where she was from, and what it must be like there to give rise to a family as rich as the Adrielles. As their shared storage now seemed to prove, they seemed at least an order of magnitude wealthier than the Longblooms, and Tristan remembered how he'd childishly imagined they had more money than the gods themselves. It had always felt like more money than he or his family would ever need.

How would having that much wealth change whatever town or city they were from? What kind of influence would a family like that have? In Woodsedge, there had been lots of people who treated the Longblooms differently--usually better--than everyone else. He wondered if Sophie had encountered that, too.

The days continued to pass with Tristan mostly just reading and studying the Newbie's Guide. Occasionally he wove in a few attempts to carry on a conversation with Poof or Sneakers--whichever was out at the time--without Sophie translating what they were saying, but Tristan still just couldn't grasp all the nuance in their speech.

Clearly, the astrals had no issue understanding the common tongue. Why was it so much more difficult for him to make out theirs?

With Poof, he was starting to at least pick up the power of tone and inflection, but Sneakers was a lot harder to comprehend. He also didn't seem nearly as interested in Tristan's attempts as Poof, and he spoke far too quickly for Tristan to make any serious progress, at least yet.

One time in particular, when he needed a break, he pulled out the pamphlet he'd taken about the Tier 3 Tournament in Camille. It was actually really informative, and he spent a lot of time soaking in the details of the tournament structure as well as reading and rereading the "What you should expect" section. The fact that there would be gods there was kind of exciting, especially since the overseeing judge for the last hundred or so Tournaments had been The Arbiter. Tristan had heard a lot about her and her extreme fairness from the Brightshield. Apparently one of the blessings the goddess also brought with her was the guarantee that no one fighting in the Tournament could die on the grounds.

When it came to the Tournament itself, though, he was a bit worried when he read that the opening or "seeding" rounds were done in what they called "pod format." They wouldn't be one-on-one battles but rather eight big melees, with only "the last pair standing" advancing from each. Then those top 16 would be paired off and fight in a bracket format.

It all felt very exciting, and Tristan couldn't help but imagine himself fighting his way through swarms of imagined enemies... which always somehow seemed to include Aaric Longbloom.

The only way he won't attend is if he somehow misses the cutoff for Tier 3, Tristan thought. But if I can make it, then there's no doubt he'd get there, too.

After about a week, Tristan was having a hard time staying so still for so long. He'd been doing his morning exercises during their breakfast stop, but clearly that was no longer sufficient. He started asking Gregory to stop a few extra times per day, just so he could get out of the coach and stretch his legs. Sophie, for her part, didn't seem to have any issue at all with enduring the long, seemingly-interminable stretches of riding through nothing but blank countryside.

Tristan envied her a little for that.

But he wouldn't have to worry about that for much longer, as suddenly, and without any warning at all, everything changed.

It started with the routine notification telling him that they'd entered the domain of The Embrace... but ended with so much more.

[Path Quest updated: Avenge the Brightshield]

"Holy shit," Tristan whispered, sitting stark upright as he read the notification again. His hand unconsciously went to the scar in the center of his chest. As he read the notification again, the familiar compass-arrow appeared in his vision as well. It was the third time he'd seen it, and he knew what that small little arrow meant.

A third target.

He promptly expanded the related quest to see which {Legendslayer} it was pointing him toward this time.

Remaining targets:

Curse Red Blade Shadow Timetwister -- in Surdenholm Venom

"Tristan?" Sophie asked, clearly noticing his sudden shift in position.

"I, uh, my Path Quest updated," he replied quietly. His eyes followed where the little arrow was pointing, out there across the arid-looking scrubland. He wondered just how far away this Timetwister was.

"Out of curiosity, where's Surdenholm?" he asked.

It was Gregory who responded, "That's pretty far to the South, actually. It's still in The Embrace's domain, but only barely. It's way down in the central scrublands, almost all the way to the Great Sand Sea."

Sophie seemed excited to hear that. "I've always wanted to go to see the Great Sand Sea. I remember reading stories about the ships there that glide through the sand as easily as though it was water, or like the Crafting Ark does in the sky."

"I haven't seen any of those myself," Gregory responded, "but I have also heard the stories. They all sound miserably hot."

Tristan stored that information away for later. "Don't worry, Gregory, we won't be asking you to take us there or anything. We're still going to Jamal's"

"That's music to my ears," the driver replied.

"But how long do you think that journey would take, from Rockmoor to Surdenholm?" Tristan asked.

"I don't love where those kinds of questions end up leading," the driver said, not quite answering. "I do want to head back to Perpetua once this is over, you know. What I said to you wasn't just a bargaining chip."

Sophie laughed. "I knew it had to be some part of a negotiation tactic."

"And I honestly don't have any desire to go that far south."

Tristan tried to reassure him. "Like I said before, I'm not going to ask that of you, but if I were to head that direction, about how long would it take me?"

"A couple days, I'd guess. Depends on your driver. It's a shame I won't be available."

Sophie rolled her eyes.

Tristan leaned back in his seat and closed his book just as Sophie shifted over to sit beside him. Sneakers remained back next to her seat, clearly asleep in the middle of a blanket-turned-nest.

"So, Surdenholm?" she whispered. "Who's there?"

"Timetwister," Tristan answered, barely breathing the name. It was another name he'd stared at so often, tracing every letter in his mind, but he still didn't know practically anything about them. That had to change.

"And what are your plans...?" Sophie prompted.

Tristan sighed. "I'm not sure. We're still a ways away from Rockmoor."

"And then?"

"And then, I don't know, Sophie. I just... We can talk to Jamal, obviously. Then maybe I'll start digging into who this Timetwister person is."

"We will start digging," she corrected.

Tristan smiled slightly. "Of course I'd appreciate the help."

"Hey, we're in a Permanent Party now, mister. You think I'm going to let you just run off to die like you nearly did with Shadow? Hah! Not on my watch!"

"We did better against Venom," Tristan conceded.

"We did, didn't we?" Sophie said with a smirk. "It just goes to show you how much a little bit of reconnaissance can help! We only really gathered what we could while on the trail last time. Imagine what more we might have known if we'd had the opportunity to make actual preparations."

Tristan nodded. "With Timetwister, I'd wager that will be pretty important, too. Look, you don't have to convince me. I learned my lesson with Shadow. I won't ever just run off after another {Legendslayer}. Never again."

"Good," Sophie replied, and after a pause where she was clearly waiting for him to say more, she moved back to her seat where she took to gently scratching Sneakers' belly.

Tristan didn't pay much attention to that, though, just like he didn't immediately pick up his book again. He had much too much to think about. Too much to prepare for.

Timetwister, he thought, mulling over the only detail he had to go on. With a name like 'Timetwister,' I wonder what kind of opponent they'll be. Probably some sort of time mage...

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