Lore/Story Scourge

Bumpy Bumpy fell down the wall

 

So how long till the next chapter?

 

You get a cookie for posting right while I was making a post.
Disclaimer: I don't have any cookies.

--------------------"A Post"--------------------
An award-winning post​

If you're looking for an actual April Fools' day post, you can find one here.

So you might be wondering: where did I vanish off to? How long will it be before I cancel the story post a new chapter? To be honest, I don't have an exact date, but I can tell you my plans at the moment (even though my plans make no sense).


The 100% most important thing going here is this cool picture very similar to a profile post from a couple weeks ago.

(It's pretty wide, you might have to open the full image to see much of anything.)

All of those are "planets" representing all of the chapters I've made, with diameter sized by word count. To compare the diameters of chapter 13 (the shortest chapter) and chapter 39 (the longest chapter) is like comparing Mercury to Jupiter. I'd say that's a lot of variation in size.


On to the actual story, I've been working on what is currently unpublished writing since January (i.e. chapters 41+). I completed chapter 41 about a month and a half ago, 42 was finished very recently (it hasn't been proofread), and I've started a little on 43. Through various reasons (mostly involving unsourced paranoia) I've decided to finish off chapter 43 before doing anything else. The catch is, the plans I've got for chapter 43 are going to mean it'll take a bit of time. I guess I'll talk more about that if I can find more to say.


Meanwhile, for that one person who views peoples' info tabs on their profiles, you'll notice I have a sort of side-project along with Scourge that I haven't mentioned elsewhere at all. This is something I've been working at for a while, and if all goes well, you'll hear more about it next month. If it does kick off however, it'll mean that for some time I might slow down work on the story, the progress of which is running somewhat steadily at the moment (I've added ~20 entries covering over 3,000 words to the progress sheet since I posted that picture a while ago).


TL;DR:

 

the snack that smiles back GOLDFISH

 

Zzzzzzzzzzzzz

 

Bumperino....... just say you quit and this will all be over

 

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Spoiler: The original post (excluding the chapter)

hi

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i like wynncraft

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Chapter XLI
Repeating the Message​

“Hey, Robin, nice to see ya! You’ve been recovering nicely, it seems!”

Jonas turned his head to see who was speaking, and muttered, “For the third time, I’m not Robin.”

They were in Nemract’s library. Even though the building was poorly insulated, and the floorboards creaked when you walked on them, that was just the way it always was. Shelves full of dusty books lined the walls, though what looked like half the library’s contents were stacked on the rickety table next to Jonas. Standing beside him was a bulky man named Alfred - head of Sailbird, the local shipment company, and a person Robin had worked with closely in the past few years.

Alfred responded, “Not Robin... Right. Robin would never have hair that messy. Usually don’t see him in the library, either.” He scratched his head. “Sorry, uh...Jonas? That’s your name, right?”

“Right,” said Jonas, setting down a copy of Magical Curses and Ailments.

Before he had left in search of the Weapons, Jonas would never leave the house except to run to the library and check out a book. After they had returned to Nemract one week ago, he could rarely be found anywhere else but the library. At least once in the past three days, he woke up one morning to find that what he thought was a pillow were actually pages of lore he had been reading the past night. He would check his pockets to ensure nothing had been stolen, and then he would continue to read as though nothing had happened. This behavior aroused the curiosity of those few people who cared - Alfred, for instance.

“Is there a reason you’re spendin’ all your time here?” said Alfred in his usual rough voice. A gap over the boarded eastern window attempted to direct a sunbeam into his eyes, so Alfred held a hand up to his face in response. Squinting, he saw that Jonas didn’t appear inclined to answer - he had already picked up another book. “A’right,” he said, “I’ll be down at the docks again. I’ll see ya later.”

Jonas was too busy staring at A Beginner’s Guide to Weapon Making to care much as Alfred trudged out the back door. There had to be something in the library about those weapons, he kept telling himself. But the ever-increasing piles of read books steadily sapped the hope of accomplishing something from his search. He had already come across books on powerful curses (though that didn’t seem quite relevant), he had pored through every book in the building on old Wynn lore and extravagant weapons, and in the meantime he learned every cover in the library by heart.

Was there someone he knew who was familiar with them? He was sure that few people at Nemract, if any, would even know what the Weapons were, much less have any useful information. Then an alternative simply popped into his head - Wedyf.

Hadn’t he mentioned the Weapons shortly after they met? He didn’t know the wizard very well, but that seemed to be his best lead after having cleared most of Nemract’s library. Despite being sorely tempted to simply tear a page out of a book to write a letter with, he stood up and was back at the desk a minute later with a fresh piece of parchment and a quill from the desk. He had asked for the librarian’s pen - the only pen in the entire town, as nobody else could afford one - but the librarian declined. It didn’t matter much, anyway. Jonas was soon enough ferociously scribbling words down on paper, filling the library with a light scratching noise for several minutes. Soon after, he set the letter down on the table and read it:


Wedyf,

After we left your house, we made it to the Quake, but two people came out of the blue and confronted us with the Inferno and the Falcon. Needless to say, we lost the fight badly. Through some miracle, we made it back to Nemract, but my brother Robin’s in the hospital and Julie’s had to take over for the past week. I’ve spent a bit of my time in the library since returning, although I’ve found nothing in my attempts to find information on the Weapons. This is why I’m sending this letter to you.

You mentioned them on the day we met, though you claimed that wizards don’t like to talk about them. Why is that? What is it about the Weapons that makes them such undesirable objects to study? Also, if I remember correctly, you said that effects were taking place as a result of our attempt to get the Quake - and you never quite explained what the effects are. One of the two people who defeated us with the Quake was the same one who attacked us before we showed up in Bremminglar, and I swear I’ve seen the other person somewhere. I need you to explain what you claimed was happening, because I think it may still be in effect. I saw someone in the library the other day who felt eerily familiar to me, but I never saw the person’s face. Could you explain that?

I’m sorry I couldn’t have had more time to stay with you, but Robin and Julie were finding clues faster than I was, and there was no way I would stay behind on such an important journey, even if it ultimately failed.

I hope we can meet again soon.

-Jonas W.


Satisfied enough with his message, he rolled it up and hurried out the door, but not before calling out to the desk, “Hey, Fletcher! Save my seat, I’m heading to the post office for a moment!”

“Yes, I will,” the librarian said automatically from behind his desk, without even looking away from what he was writing. Jonas glanced back at the pile of books on the back table before leaving.

His walk to the post office took under a minute; in no time at all, he pushed open the door to a narrow building plastered with posters of all sorts - travel brochures, lost posters, wanted posters, advertisements from across the province - everything. Sitting at the far end of the main room was the nameless postman, slowly filing through papers amid a swarm of letters on the desk, looking particularly grey in contrast to the blue sky shining through the open window behind him. Jonas strolled over to the desk and set the letter down on the only part of the table that remained visible, along with two emeralds he had fished out of his pocket. The postman slowly directed his gaze up at Jonas.

So Jonas said, “Address this to Wedyf in Bremminglar, the fastest delivery you can.” The postman proceeded to stare silently at the letter, and then at the two emeralds on the desk. Both of them knew that two emeralds alone would never even get that letter out of town. However, Jonas’s rough history with the post office was something that the postman remembered only too well. He took the emeralds and the letter, then shooed Jonas out the door before he could rope him into something else.

Jonas’s return to the library was twice as fast as his walk to the post office; indeed, he nearly trampled one of the city’s bankers as he ran for the large building some way down the street. Throwing the doors open, he was one step in the direction of his reserved table when he stopped.

“Alfred, what’re you doing here again?”

Sitting right where Jonas had been, Alfred held a bottle in one hand, and a piece of paper in the other. Jonas seated himself next to him. Passing over the note, Alfred took a swig of the pale green liquid in his bottle.

“I was heading back down to the docks,” said Alfred, “when your sister told me to give you this slip of paper. Eh, if it’s what I gotta do to make you act normal again, spendin’ all your time in the library... You still never told me why you left town for...what, a week?” He took another draught, and belched loudly, giving Jonas a moment to contemplate before Alfred lifted himself groggily off the chair. “Anyway, I’ll be going now. Business is hurtin’ you know, with that new-fangled Seasail Enterprises tryin’ to take over our cargo jobs. Isn’t transporting people across the ocean enough for them?” When Jonas turned to look at Alfred, he had already gone. He glanced down at the note.


Robin’s doing better now, he can finally say how many fingers I’m holding up without choking. You should visit him soon, I can’t believe you’re still spending all your time in the library.


Jonas repressed a strange urge to go straight to the weapons shop down the road and lecture Julie about his hobbies. “I do not spend all my time in the library,” he instead muttered to himself.

“Are you sure?” someone replied. Jonas’ heart skipped a beat as he whirled around in his chair and saw a tall person dressed in black with a grey coat - Laryn.

“W-what- are you doing in Nemract?” sputtered Jonas, releasing his grasp on the note in his hand. It fell to the floor without notice.

Laryn ignored his question, grabbed the book on top of Jonas’ pile on the table, and observed the cover. “The Stone Empire: A History of Ancient Wynn,” she read monotonously. She gazed at the pile again. “Fantastic Artifacts Throughout the World. That’s a boring read. Animancy, Volume II...already read that, boring. Weapon Mastery; horrendously outdated.” She looked at Jonas. “What are you trying to accomplish with this?”

“Well, I-”

“Let me give you some starting advice,” she said. “If you’re going to be searching for the Weapons, then don’t make it so obvious.” Jonas froze. “Plenty of people have suffered injury from carelessness or straight-up arrogance when it comes down to even the bare mention of those things. You’d best put the subject to rest.”

“But-”

“Listen,” Laryn snapped. “A couple years ago, a mercenary made the decision to abandon his best friend and go out in search of the Weapons.” After an ominous pause, Jonas made to open his mouth, but Laryn spoke first. “He died.”

“B- From what?” asked Jonas.

“No-one knows for sure, and all I’ve been given to analyze is a short newspaper clipping. I’ve narrowed it down to either a bad night in the pub, or murder. The bottom line is, stop now before it’s too late.”

“Uh, listen,” Jonas finally had the chance to say, “I don’t know why you came all the way here to lecture me on something you wouldn’t care much about. Can I continue reading in peace?”

Laryn sighed. “I came here for information, although your pile of abandoned books tells me that there’s not much to find here.” Jonas realized just then that the library was nearly twice as full as it had been an hour ago, but he kept listening regardless of eavesdroppers. “As a teacher, I’m responsible for knowing as much about the subject as I can, but now that the topic’s gone to those Weapons...I myself have been trying to learn as much about them as possible. Naturally, the search went dry before it had started.” She stopped for a moment to collect her thoughts. Jonas wanted to ask Laryn every single question he had packed into his mind, but his mouth simply refused to speak.

“There are four of those weapons, that much I definitely know,” she stated, “and their names are the Inferno, the Falcon, the Quake, and the Tide - a dagger, bow, spear, and wand, respectively. Each possesses mastery over one of the elements, of fire, air, earth, and water. They were created by an unknown person a thousand years ago, and to this day no trace of the creator’s whereabouts have been found. The current King of Ragni has been surprisingly resistant to divulge any information in his castle libraries. That’s all I know, if you could help.”

Jonas sat completely still for a moment. “But didn’t you say-”

Laryn coughed loudly, silencing him. “I believe that teaching my students everything they need to know takes higher priority than my well-being, as much as I care about it. I’m willing to take a chance. Besides, I’m only trying to learn about them, I’m not stupid enough to actually look for them.”

“That sounds like-” Jonas began, but after looking back at the icy stare of the person sitting next to him, he changed his tone of voice. “Fine,” he said, attempting to remember what he knew. “Well… I don’t know much about them. All I know is that the Quake, the Falcon, and the Inferno are all in the possession of the same people. I have no idea where the Tide is. That’s all I have. Can you go away now?”

“I’d like to ask - who are these people you say have three of the Weapons?” said Laryn.

“I dunno,” replied Jonas irritably, “some messed-up guy wearing blue, and a tall guy in a top hat with a really weird personality.”

“Hm,” Laryn muttered. “Those descriptions are vague, but I get the feeling I’ve heard of at least one of those people before. The Troms Academy, was it?”

“The Troms Academy?”

“The same,” replied Laryn. “It was a couple weeks ago, a complete massacre. After the incident, the King of Troms shut down nearly every program he had been running - though admittedly, that includes all the regular schools of Troms.” She brushed a stray piece of hair off her face. “Thank goodness I teach at Ragni.”

Jonas still looked puzzled. “But the killer-”

“-was a man wearing blue robes. They say he had enrolled in the school shortly before the massacre.”

There was an awkward moment of silence as Jonas realized - he had met the killer on two occasions now. “Listen,” he said. Laryn concluded her idle stare into the ceiling. “I know who the killer is. His name’s Tollak, I think. He has the Falcon. I still don’t know who the other person is.”

Laryn nodded, and a moment later, stood up. “I think I may have a lead on the second person,” she said. “Meanwhile, I’ll send a pointer to the local sheriff about this so-called Tollak. As for my lesson, I should be fine now - I’m no genius, but I’ve already learned quite a lot about the Weapons from my brief travels. And given your miles-high stack of read books, I’d imagine there’s not a lot to be found here. I’ll be leaving now. If you want to contact me, write a letter, the mailman knows where I am.”

“But-” Jonas said, “what do you mean, ‘the mailman-’”

The library door had already swung shut, and now he felt as though he had more questions than when they had started talking. The couple dozen or so people in the library were too busy minding their own business to care as Jonas nearly collapsed his table trying to reach the book on top of the pile. Afterwards, he wasted a minute staring at the door before doing anything else - expecting Laryn to return and answer all his questions. The door remained motionless.

“I guess she’s not coming back,” he muttered shortly after, propping open the library’s copy of The Archives of Wynn, Volume Three. “Oh well.”

 

Dammit you're killing me right now

 

15 bumps means 1 bump for you