Chapter 159: Faith Feeds Friendship
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Angelus

"Grrrahhh!" Windy seethes at the sudden exit of Silver, "I don't know why I was feeling so antsy about him coming back!"

Sinking into my chair, I let out a sigh as I deflate like an old sofa. I completely understand Windy's exasperation at Silver's attitude just now, and to be honest, I don't feel any less annoyed than her. The only reason I didn't speak out with her when she did was how incredibly...tired he seems to be. Not that it excuses him, but I find it hard to believe that anything I might have said would have penetrated his malaise in that state.

"We should count our blessings Jade wasn't here," I grumble, pressing my palm into my face and rubbing it around, feeling the stress dislodge from the underlying musculature, "There would have been a murder."

"Pff, no fucking kidding," Windy throws her hands up, "You know what really pisses me off, though? That he thinks it was the money alone I cared about."

Jericho folds his arms, "It is rather a lot."

"I mean, yeah, but..." she gesticulates haphazardly, the frustration trying to form itself into words but failing, "Ahhhhh!"

"Take a deep breath," Morn advises quietly, "Still your mind."

"Don't wanna," Windy pouts childishly, "Too angry."

Since she isn't being too helpful, I try using my own feelings as a basis of reference, "I don't think it's quite the same, but it's how rude he was that bothered me. Am I right in saying that it's close?"

"Kinda?" Windy errs, "Maybe? Ugh, fine..."

She breathes deeply, following Morn's advice reluctantly, and exhales with force, "It's like...I worried and worked for nothing. Like, what was I afraid of? That Alex would come back and say I - we - didn't do a good enough job, and broke the trust he put in us? Nah! We work ourselves to the bone, trying to hold on to what little we have for dear life, for nigh-on two fucking weeks! Two fucking weeks! With barely any sleep, and hours upon hours of fighting tooth and nail."

She gets increasingly heated as she rants, punctuating each sentence with the slam of a fist on the table's surface, and leaving a notable dent. When she stops for breath, it's the barest intakes of breath before she continues, face contorted with shame and betrayal, teeth grit hard.

"Nope! He doesn't even acknowledge it, and then, as if we don't even fucking matter; like we didn't go through all of that on his behalf, Alex shuts down and throws out what would be a huge fucking break for us," Windy pauses to lick her lips, panting and shaking, "So here I am, thinking to myself, what fucking trust? Huh? Wouldn't even listen on top of that..."

It almost wouldn't be out of place for her to burst into tears, in the midst of all that. Evidently, this apparent apathy from Silver hurt her a lot, and put the way it has been, my own blood has risen a few degrees as well. Silver has made it abundantly clear, on several occasions, that he's not very accustomed to being a leader, and I have some idea of how much stress he puts himself through on a daily basis, but even in accepting that, his behaviour is hard to forgive.

Morn coughs, "While I can understand your point, I do still agree with his decision to reject Dawn Waker's offer at this stage. Mr Nosster could certainly have handled it with more grace, and incorporated our advice, but I still find it hard to understand her motive."

"Indeed," Jericho nods slowly, "I don't get the impression that what she wanted was simply shares at all."

"That isn't the point," Windy huffs, standing up and pacing around, "Would it have killed him to bring us in on it? He's said it himself, over and over like a mantra that he can't do it all alone, and yet, here we are!"

"You're going in circles, Miss Fields," Morn sighs, standing up as well, "Literally, and figuratively. I recommend that we all take this opportunity to locate our rooms, log off, and revisit this subject with all members present after a night's rest, so we can tackle it with clear heads."

"Stop saying things that make sense," Windy complains, hunching over, arms limp.

"Come to think of it," Jericho takes the space in the conversation as an opportunity to change the subject, "What exactly are the rules on who gets a room here? It just occurred to me that I never thought to ask Silver about it."

"Officers and the other founding...-ish...members get a room to themselves," I explain, letting the turnover in topics happen if only to calm down my ownself, "Now that we have so many regular members set to join us, I don't know if we have enough spare bedrooms to accommodate everybody. Maybe if a few people share, but most of the rooms are pretty cramped as is..."

"Is that going to be an issue, Mr Fathom?" Morn asks politely out of concern.

"I think we'll be good for a couple of days yet with our inn rooms, but that's probably going to be an unnecessary expense," Jericho rubs his scalp, "And if Truthseekers intends to continue growing, accommodations are going to be a real issue sooner or later. I don't think it's a problem to give out a few Silvers a night to a handful of people, but what about a hundred? Or long-term?"

"Or both," Morn nods along, "Yes, I can see the problem."

"Silver will probably have something in mind already," Windy grumbles sarcastically, "God, I'm starting to understand Jade all of a sudden. Next, I'm gonna pick up smoking and drink half my body weight in tequila every Saturday."

"Sounds extreme," I chuckle, "Also, rather rude to her as well, don't you think?"

"Eh, she knows what she's about," Windy shrugs it off, "Not like I didn't join in, so no judging from me. Except for the smoking part - she always goes for the 'organic' shit that fucks up your lungs instead of the cancer-free GM stuff. According to her, 'It just tastes off, Win'."

"I wouldn't know," Jericho replies, "Cigarette smoke and flowers don't mix well. Anyway, I should probably go meet up with my people, let them know what's going on."

"Mm," Windy stretches out, her armour clinking, "Good to have you all join us, man. Circumstances aside, that is, 'cus...yeah."

"Yeah," he mutters, slowly rising to his feet and pushing his chair back in before approaching the door, "I guess I'll be seeing you guys in the morning?"

"Have a good evening," I wave goodbye to him, "Be sure to bring everyone who wants to join up with you so we can make it official and do a tour of the place."

"Will do, will do," he tries to force out a smile but it doesn't really look natural on his features, "Good night."

Exiting the room, I take it as my cue to follow suit, "Tomorrow is going to be a busy day. Come on, let's see whether or not our bedrooms have been moved around."


 

Alex's Room, Le Chevalier, Tortue Village

Despite saying I'd answer for my actions offline, the chatroom has been remarkably silent, save for a brief round of greetings when Mr Fathom entered while I was asleep. Shifting in my bed, raw and sweaty patches of skin on my back feel like daggers digging into my flesh, particularly around the shoulders.

My room here was, I recall, never well-ventilated, so it gets stuffy rather quickly, particularly when the weather takes a turn for the humid and clammy. I lament the loss of the climate regulation system my house had installed, which kept the interior at a pleasantly cool temperature and humidity all year round.

I didn't sleep well, or for very long last night, and falling asleep to begin with took longer than normal on top of that. Glancing at my Pane, the time is 4:46am, which means that I've probably only had about four hours of sleep if that. The reason it was troubled to begin with isn't hard to figure out, as having something like Count Hiolh rummaging through your brain and contorting your mind has never been a pleasant experience once the manipulation wears off.

It was the same after the Usurpation, the confrontation with Arevas, and several dozen incidents before in my old life. It doesn't get easier to overcome, but it is easier to ignore the pain and pretend it didn't happen. Not that I can suppress it perfectly, by any means. Especially recently, I get...testy, when subjected to that level of stress. Used to be I just felt like shit for a few days and drank a little more alcohol than normal.

What I did not do, was fall into a berserker rage, or take it out on those close to me. In hindsight, Morn had the right of it when she said that making decisions in haste are poorly considered. I still don't think it was a good idea to prevaricate or accept Miss Dawn Waker's offer, but I shouldn't have agreed to see anyone at all in that state of mind.

Just, put it off until my head was clear and my emotions back under control. If not for the poor first impression Miss Dawn Waker and Miss Creed gave with their argument, my poor attitude throughout would have been out of place, reflecting badly on me and Truthseekers instead. With their faux pas, I at least have a plausible excuse, and Mr Fathom's mood was hardly an improvement on my own, so I doubt he's holding it against me.

I definitely owe Windy and the rest an apology either way.

Closing my eyes, I push my fingers over my eyelids and rub them roughly around, the dry ring crumbling as sebum dislodges from the corners. With another brush over to wipe it all out, I fall back onto my pillow and stare at the hazy ceiling, willing myself to sleep for another two hours at the very minimum, but it doesn't come as the minutes roll by.

I am, my body has decided without my consent, properly awake for the day. Which means, I get to just lay here and feel sorry for myself until the sun comes up.

"Fffaaantastic..." I mumble, sticking an arm behind my back to rub at the sore spots. Since I don't really have anything better to do, and I don't want to wake up my landlord half an hour early - he usually wakes up especially early anyway to bake the café's pastries - I decide to take stock of where things stand in Astral Reckoning, now that we're so close to the turning point of the game's fortunes.

Let's leave Meteo Town aside, for now. Coherent information is hard to come by, and I'll be needing to work through it when I log in later anyway. Where to start? How about the general state of affairs?

Player numbers have reached rock bottom, with several dozen articles over the last few days speculating as to whether or not Astral Reckoning can sustain itself on an estimated 40,000 active players worldwide. I don't know if I quite trust those numbers, since there doesn't appear to be any sources cited and, well, Hectic Works has been completely silent since launch, but it's certainly true that most people have moved on by now. Those left that are still diligently raising their Vessels are, effectively, all the future elite of Astral Reckoning with a few exceptions that joined during the resurgence and got extremely lucky, or relied on connections to people that stuck around to catch up quickly.

I wasn't particularly fortunate, and it took me years before I could get anywhere substantial with a chance connection to my former employer...

Average player Level should be, by my guess, somewhere between Level 12 and 19, depending on the starter zone. Meteo is by far the weakest, even below Nostraza Town, at this point if we consider Level alone, while the elites that started in Town of Forgiveness are the strongest numerically and in terms of raw talent. I might be overestimating them, but the gap between their best and me, even after exploiting so much, is likely negligible.

My progression for the next while is going to be forced to stagnate, is the main issue - if it can be considered an issue. Much as I'd like to keep this pace up and continue Levelling, there's not a whole lot of benefit to doing so even if I could spare the time investment.

I may have lurched straight to the mid-twenties, but I can't gain any meaningful Experience in Fander Field anymore, outside of maybe a Quest or two. On top of that, I'll be bogged down in administration and smithing with Henna to stay on top of our new responsibilities until Meteo stabilises and I have people I can delegate the day-to-day operations to. So, while that happens, those future Saints will close the gap and surpass me as I take the time to digest our gains and losses.

The saving grace being, I suppose, the sharp incline that occurs during the last ten levels before a Class and Race evolution at Level 40.

There's a reason that the bulk of any given army's fodder is comprised of people between Level 15-35, after all. Raising someone past that point is an investment countries reserve for the better talents and there are few opportunities for people to grind all those Levels and resources out independently. Doing so is liable to piss off your betters for threatening the hierarchy, in point of fact.

It also must be pointed out that Level isn't a sure-fire indicator of how threatening an existence is, though a certain baseline can be inferred by nature. After all, Geronil Uvstine, the penultimate antagonist for Meteo starting out was only Level 15 or so. If he hadn't spread his forces out and was allowed to take full advantage of his minions and skills as a Magic Trapper, he'd easily qualify as a Level 30+ encounter.

I digress.

Speaking of the Town of Forgiveness playerbase, the starter town has been functionally vacated by them for greener pastures on which to grow themselves. Details aren't readily available as to who is getting up to what, and the region's storyline quest chain is still ongoing. The forerunners in that regard, an Infamous group called 'Payday' appear to have been marked for death by the Triumphate government after they broke into a local organisation's Keepsake and made off with the contents.

The leader is...Joshua Frieks, huh? That's a name I recognise; he's a Titled Saint-level player, known as 'Freewalker', who could cross battlefields completely unhindered by the opposing forces, shrugging off fatal wounds and crowd control like he was taking a pleasant stroll.

I don't recognise his group's name, but it's the same guy alright, looking at their activities so far. Joshua has the unique gift to piss off basically everyone he meets and come out the other end richer than he started. His bad attitude is so legendary, in fact, that he's said to have escalated a fistfight with a minor noble's bodyguard into a regicide in a single afternoon.

Looking around, I see more famous names I recognise with feats no less impressive, from 'Forest of Blood' Ontario Bates and Old Seven 'Bonesplinter', who passed through multiple CIG guilds collecting exorbitant sign-on fees like they were football players, to one of the top 5 Magic Trappers, 'Earthfort' Ayama Etigocha. So long as it was on the ground or beneath it, she could raise incredible fortifications practically anywhere she went, turning ambushes into advantageous sieges instantly.

Next to the slow emergence of these celebrities from the chaff, the other starter zones are far less interesting to me. At the very least, from the talked about events online, my memory and knowledge is insufficient to draw any meaningful analysis; But the common trend is that players have begun to leave the nest en masse in search of new hunting grounds. The only exceptions being Meteo, for obvious reasons, and Taladi's Waystation, because they neither need to, nor can they penetrate much further into unclaimed territory until they progress along their local storyline, which is largely time-gated by it's dependence on Panopla's government.

Losing myself in research does a lot to help my mood, but the pinging noise that originates from my chatroom app brings me back immediately, and a cursory glance at the pop-up scrolling across the top of my Pane's screen clues me in as to who it is and what they want.


 

Truthseekers Chat Group #1 (Officers)

[Wins] (05:18): Alex, we need to talk about yesterday.

[Wins] (05:19): Drop a msg when ur awake and well start a group call.

[Wins] (05:19): *we'll

[Wins] (05:19): tired :x

[CountofPollen] (05:19): What time is it where you are?

[Wins] (05:20): Just after 11. Feels later. My sleep sched is whack rn.

[Olrica</3] (05:20): god why is my phone buzzing

[Olrica</3] (05:20): thought I put it on silent b4 I went to sleep......

[Silver] (05:21): I'm awake right now actually. Didn't sleep very well.

[Wins] (05:21): um I don't think everyone is around rn so

[Silver] (05:22): Didn't think they would be. Sun isn't even up yet here. We'll talk in-game, after I get rid of the soldier hanging around the headquarters.

[Olrica</3] (05:22): what soldier?

[Wins] (05:22): soldier??

[Silver] (05:22): Long story short, the Empire of Stone's council has taken offence to my existence, so the new mayor has probably ordered one of his men to watch me. I'll be heading over to Town Hall again to sign some documents, so I'll try and convince them to give me some privacy.

[Silver] (05:23): I don't want to have to reserve all important business and personal matters for real-world communications when I already have to spend most of the day logged on just to prevent them from spying on me.

[Olrica</3] (05:24): look at Mr popular over here

[Wins] (05:24): I don't even

[Wins] (05:24): ugh fine

[Wins] (05:24): See you later then, I'm going to sleep.

[Silver] (05:24): Pleasant dreams. I'll explain the whole thing then.

[Wins] (05:25): You run away again and imma hunt your ass down boss

[Olrica</3] (05:25): hot

[Wins] (05:25): stfu

[CountofPollen] (05:25): (´∀`)b

[Wins] (05:25): u2 jericho (ง •̀_•́)ง

[UltimatePower] (05:25): ? What's going on?

[Silver] (05:26): Don't worry about it Jupiter

[UltimatePower] (05:26): k. I'll be on a little late. NN!

[Silver] (05:26): Alright. Just for the record though, I am sorry about my behaviour last night.

[UltimatePower] (05:26): ?????

[Wins] (08:31): (¬、¬)

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