The next morning, after a late night at Pat’s house. The group awoke to the smell of hot food. Without disturbing them, Pat had prepared a breakfast of eggs, pancakes, red beans, and coffee. Beans seemed like an odd combo with the rest of the options, but nobody complained.
After breakfast, they helped clean dishes again. Then Pat made an announcement.
“There will be a funeral this afternoon for the fallen,” she said. “I’d recommend going to Spin and Rinse to get cleaned up. No offense, but the smell of you three is potent.” She winked at Peregrine.
She wasn’t wrong, they were all very ripe. Peregrine was also sluggish. His muscles felt weaker, his body lighter, and his mind less thoughtful. He checked his stats and remembered that the mushroom stew perks had a time limit, and that time had expired.
“I would love a hot shower,” Wendell said, folding his blanket and stacking his pillow on top. “Where is it?”
“It’s on the far side of the road that runs through town. You won’t miss it. You physically can’t if you stay on the road.”
Outside, the sun was bright. The werewolf and human bodies had been removed, making it almost seem like a battle hadn’t happened hours earlier. If it wasn’t for the pools of blood on the ground, and the splatterings on the walls, it would’ve been believable. The villagers seemed to be going about their daily routines as best they could.
They started down the main road and came upon the broken root cellar doors. A single person was hard at work, ripping out the broken boards and replacing them with new ones. He shoved a handful of nails in his mouth, pulling them out one at a time and hammering them to secure the boards in place.
[Tony]
[Carpenter Level 4]
Every strike of his hammer is filled with sadness. The resulting metallic thuds fill you with guilt.
Don’t be an asshole, System, Peregrine thought. I feel shitty enough as it is. Then, he did have a dark epiphany that he wished he hadn’t. When he saw the broken doors, he realized he should’ve rummaged the dead. Not necessarily the townspeople, but the werewolves at least. A missed opportunity, it seemed. He’d be wise to take advantage of those situations, no matter how morally questionable it seemed.
A few minutes later, they arrived at Spin and Rinse. Just as Pat had said, it was impossible to miss. Because it was smack dab in the middle of the road, forcing people to walk around the building to get back on the path. It was also the only building with vinyl siding.
The inside was dazzling, spotless from top to bottom. The floor was shiny enough to make Peregrine squint when he looked directly at it. Another thing of note was the full length mirrors hanging on the sparkling walls. It was the first mirror he’d encountered since arriving in the Irenic Realm, and the first time he’d caught a glimpse of himself. He wasn’t too pleased.
His hair was matted with blood. Thankfully, his locks were dark enough to hide the red, which wasn’t the same story for the rest of him. His face was caked in dried blood, and dirt, as was his suit. Fucking gross. That was the simplest phrase to describe how he looked and felt. A consolation prize was that he wasn’t the only one—the other two had it just as bad as him.
Two tall, slender men swooped in wearing gold and silver pinstriped suits.
[Theodore]
[Launderer Level 80]
He’ll make your clothes look like a million bucks and smell like the living. NOT A MONEY LAUNDERER!
[Duncan]
[Washer Level 80]
He’ll scrub your nuts. Simple as that.
The System had been really chatty post massacre.
“Welcome. Welcome. Welcome.” Theodore bowed.
“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.” Duncan shook his head. “I do declare an emergency. We’ll need to clear some time on the books.”
Theodore slid behind Alissa. “Girl, this hair is atrocious. When’s the last time you washed it?”
She threw an elbow at his stomach, but it didn’t seem to phase him. “Bite me. I haven’t had a chance to shower.”
Duncan pulled out a measuring tape and held it next to Wendell, letting one end touch the floor and stretching the other end to match his height. “Big brute, you’re going to be a tight fit.”
Both men moved around the room with exaggerated motions, gathering bottles and supplies. Theodore held a large glass jar full of a blue liquid next to Peregrine’s suit jacket. He snorted and said, “As if.” Then he twirled away, continuing to browse the selections on the shelves.
Wendell leaned over and whispered, “These guys are really cocky.”
Peregrine shrugged. “I think they’re just flamboyant.”
“The cockiest,” Duncan said, holding a brush.
“The flamboyantist,” Theodore said, holding a lint roller. “Let’s get you three cleaned up.”
Peregrine held out his hands to stop them. “Hey, guys. We don’t really have any money. We don’t even know where to find any.”
Theodore laughed. “Money? In the Irenic Realm? On our old planets, sure. But not here. We provide these services because we love to!”
“Because it’s our class,” Duncan added. “We should only choose classes we love. Isn’t that right, T?”
“That’s right, D.”
Theodore and Duncan each dragged a table in front of them, spreading their array of bottles and equipment across the top.
Three sets of panels rose out of the floor, exactly where the three party members stood, surrounding each individually. The panels topped out around their shoulders, so only their necks and heads showed.
“What gives?” Alissa asked.
“For your privacy,” Theodore answered.
“We didn’t assume you’d enjoy watching each other scrub,” Duncan said. “Unless you three are into that sort of thing. Then we could …”
“We’re not,” Wendell said, filling the pause. “Please keep the privacy panels up.”
“As you wish,” Theodore said. He came out from behind his table and stood in front of the group, holding his arms out shoulder level, palms up.
Peregrine felt his tie loosen and float away. In Memoriam and Quill of Beginnings unclasped and followed the tie. When the weight of his weapon left his arm, he felt the slightest bit of worry, like he’d just lost something important. His suit jacket and dress shirt unbuttoned on their own and drifted away. A few seconds later, he stood completely naked. He was relieved the privacy panels stayed up.
The other two had the same thing happen to them, and soon their sets of clothing all zipped to Theodore’s table. However, they had tucked their weapons away in their inventory already.
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“Fucking creepy, dude,” Alissa said, her face twisting with disgust.
Theodore’s face twisted in response, but it appeared it was from the sight and smell of their attire. He dumped a bottle of purple liquid on all three sets, and bubbles started forming on them, starting from the top down. The bubbles twirled around the clothes, occasionally switching directions and looking like liquid tornadoes. SWISH. SWISH. It sounded like multiple brushes scrubbing at the fabric.
While Theodore supervised the bubbles, Duncan summoned three balls of water. They weren’t kickball sized, though. They were as tall as a door and as long as a bathtub. He grabbed a thimble and poured a drop of liquid into each ball. The balls turned a shade of purple and Duncan pushed his arms ahead, sending the water into each of the trio’s privacy panels.
Peregrine recoiled, but found the water to be the perfect amount of warm. It swirled around him slowly like the gears on a long-dead machine firing up. There was a split second of worry when the water covered his face, but he found he was able to breathe like normal. He saw the dirt and blood lifting off his skin. This was unlike any bath he’d ever had, but it felt like a soft hug. He closed his eyes.
“This is like a full-body massage,” Wendell said. “My muscles have never been this relaxed.”
Alissa scoffed. “It’s alright, I guess. I had better ambiance in my shower back home.”
Duncan spoke while continuing to manipulate the bath water for all three. “When you reach as high a level as us, sweetie, you become a master of your craft and you can make magic happen.”
Peregrine looked over at Alissa and saw the light around her dim to almost complete darkness, while the rest of the room remained normal. Four small candles appeared on the corners of her privacy panels, providing a warm, flickering glow. She didn’t say another word, but it was obvious she enjoyed the addition, because she leaned back against her panel and closed her eyes.
Finding himself a little jealous, Peregrine glanced at Duncan and, a moment later, his panel was dimmed and exchanged with candles. Wendell followed suit and most of the room became bathed in candlelight.
Rather than close his eyes, Peregrine decided to talk with the bath givers. “How did you two get so high-leveled? Everyone else here is so low. Did you do something special to survive this long?”
“Because we are special,” Theodore said.
“Correct, as always,” Duncan crooned.
“Do you think we’re silly enough to stay here during the full moon?” Theodore cackled.
Duncan took over. “We don’t. We close up shop before the full moon comes and go to another, much safer location. When the ruthlessness has subsided, we return, put on the lights, and open the doors. It’s good for business. We make a killing off the killing.”
“The people of Fiddler’s Green are like cattle,” Theodore said. “Following the leader like a good, little herd. They won’t leave unless their leader does. And she stays. Those who are more self-preserving, like us, eventually smarten up and move to greener pastures. The rest are served up on a platter to The Fool. She fattens them up first with her home-cooked meals, of course.”
Are they insinuating Sandra is the leader of Fiddler’s Green? Peregrine wondered. They hadn’t met many in town, but the way she acted and took care of the people with her power-up cooking, it made sense. Not to mention how high of a level she was compared to the rest. “Tell me what you know about The Fool.” He had committed himself to seeing through the rescuing of these cattle, and some inside knowledge would certainly be beneficial seeing as how green he was. And he wasn’t sure if his party members would join him on the endeavor.
Duncan laughed. “The Morrigan’s first pet. We’ve never tussled with him.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Theodore added. “We’re not combat based.”
Duncan increased the temperature of the bath water, which felt amazing. “The Fool lives in the abandoned castle you see outside of Fiddler’s Green. Been a long while since he moved in. He stays close to The Morrigan’s graveyard. Could be out of fear, or command. We don’t know. He appears to be quite powerful, around level 6 the last I caught a glimpse. From what I’ve heard, he’s never once stepped foot inside these walls. He sends his werewolf minions to do his dirty work, even though he is a minion himself. The Fool, he doesn’t see the possible dangers in front of him.”
“You’ve squeezed all the intel we have on The Fool,” Theodore said, slowing his scrubbing bubbles down and inspecting the clothing.
Peregrine saw Wendell and Alissa relaxing. He thought he should maybe take a few minutes to do the same, so he shut his eyes, listening to Theodore and Duncan gab at each other.
The two business owners mentioned a rumor about a nearby group of vampires guarding an eternal liquid flame at the edge of the Always Forest. Peregrine made a mental note to remember it, as it sounded like some sort of magic that he might be able to use.
A short time later, the candles blew out, the lights turned on, and the water disappeared into the floor. Theodore ushered the clothes back to their owners and slid them on just as easily as they’d been removed. The privacy panels sank out of sight.
Theodore and Duncan sat on their tables and folded their arms.
“Our best work, yet,” Duncan said, kissing his fingers and sending it toward the group.
“Exquisite,” Theodore added. “You three will be the talk of the afternoon funeral.”
The group admired their crisp, clean clothes. Peregrine had to admit that he, indeed, did feel like a million bucks. He smelled like it, too. The sweat stains on his leather bracer had come out. Even crotchety Alissa was smoothing her shirtwaist dress and jeans, checking herself out in the mirror. Wendell had a big grin on his face, running his hand through his thick hair.
“Off you go, children,” Duncan said, standing and shooing the group toward the door. “Many a customer to see today.”
Wendell and Alissa went outside, but Peregrine paused at the doorway.
“Hey. Do you guys know where I can find more Holy Ink? I only have one jar and no idea where to get more.”
Theodore raised an eyebrow. “Choosing to cross paths with The Fool, are you?”
Peregrine nodded.
“Very well, The Morrigan’s hero.” Duncan handed two jars of Holy Ink to Peregrine, who shoved them in his inventory. “These should tide you over for your upcoming battle. To create more Holy Ink, you need to find a Blesser class. Only those high and mighty can perform the proper ritual to give the yellow ink its power.” He took a bow. “I bid you farewell, hero. And good luck.”
“Thanks,” Peregrine responded, his hands trembling. “I’ll do my best.”
“Be weary, wanderer.” Theodore stepped forward, a grave look across his face. “I found while making you crisp and new that two of your souls are tainted. What this means for you, I have no further knowledge. Keep it in your thoughts.” He, too, gave a bow.
Peregrine didn’t know what to make of that. Should he be alarmed? Was it just otherworldly mumbo jumbo? He didn’t question Theodore, and left to join his party outside.
***
Later that afternoon, the twenty villagers killed in the werewolf battle were laid to rest. The funeral was short, but powerful. It was held in the town center, in front of the bandstand. Inside of the semi-circular structure, a group of people played a solemn tune on hurdy-gurdies. A level 8 Pastor class stood in front of them with his head bowed.
The bodies of the twenty were already in caskets placed upon four large wagons and positioned directly in front of the bandstand.
It was likely that the whole of Fiddler’s Green was in attendance, because the area was packed tight and spilling into neighboring streets. The three party members were able to secure a spot near the wagons.
Just as Theodore had said, they definitely stole some of the attention from the funeral. Many folks, still battle-worn, gave them more than a once-over with envious looks. As far as Peregrine knew, the Spin and Rinse was free. Maybe there hadn’t been time for all of them to book a spot. Maybe he was to blame for that.
Peregrine was too deep in his own head to hear the whole of the pastor’s speech. He was busy thinking about dying and finding out there was an afterlife. The Morrigan. The video game-like aspects of his new existence. Of the dangers that awaited him if he chose to be a hero for the realm. If Wendell and Alissa would join him. If he could trust them. But the ending of the pastor’s eulogy caught his attention.
“ … that they were people who lived once … who were loved.” The pastor raised his head as the hurdy-gurdies resumed their play. He stepped out of the bandstand and led the procession of the four wagons being pulled by villagers, who consisted mainly of trolls and other large creatures, Pat being one of them.
The procession stopped just outside of town, but still within the palisade. There was a wide-open field filled with a countless number of mounds.
“Are those all graves?” Wendell asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Yeah,” Alissa answered. “Looks that way.” She stuffed her hands in her pant pockets.
The caskets were unloaded from the wagons and lowered into open graves.
Another crew shoveled dirt back in. Once finished, the pastor said his closing words. Dozens and dozens of flowers were set on the graves as the crowd filed out. It was mortifying to think about how many people had lost their lives every month to this horrific event, and how it had happened so many times that the funeral services operated with well rehearsed precision.
The trio remained until it was just them … and Sandra. They kept their distance and looked on as she sat beside her daughter’s grave, scooping dirt and letting it fall back to the ground through her hand.
“I want to save these people and put an end to this. If I go through with it, will you guys join me?” Peregrine looked to Alissa first.
For the first time since meeting her the previous night, she didn’t have much to say. What she did say could’ve been considered snarky, but Peregrine could tell there wasn’t any ill intent behind her words. “I’m with you, Yankee Doodle. You won’t get far without my sword.”
“I don’t think I’m strong enough.”
Peregrine patted Wendell on the back. “You will be. We’ve got time. We’ll train. We’ll grind. We’ll level up. Whatever you want to call it, we’ll do it until we are strong enough. We’ll kill those werewolves, and The Fool, so these people can sleep at night without looking over their shoulders at their calendars.”
Alissa clapped her hands. “Let’s get to it then.”
