Quenton summoned up his character sheet as he woke up two weeks before the annual Cliffland County Autumn Monster Pageant. Camilla had promised to help him coach Hop before that time, but he thought ultimately the only reason he had a chance was due to his special system.
Name: Briony Moray (Quenton Keller)
Class: Lady
S-Level: 12(60/130)
Attributes
Charm: 3
Poise: 2
Composure: 2
Grace: 2
Wit: 3
Cunning: 4
Endurance: 2
Talents:
Detect Faux Pas
Warded Toes
Silent Movement
Enduring Attire
Beast Kin
Know Rank
He had managed to advance his stats, which conferred five xp each time they were raised, and his recent success in the “do not embarrass yourself” quest had helped push him almost halfway through his twelfth or rather as Quenton saw it, his second level.
Quenton came to one conclusion as he oversaw his stats. I am doing this shit too slowly. He thought as he saw that while he had been able to raise Composure, Wit, Cunning, Poise, and Charm since arriving in this world. His stats seemed largely the same, and he had only leveled once in like what? A month?
If I am going to survive and become an adventurer, I need to find a way to grind this class quickly and hopefully find a way to get a cool prestige class or class specialization or whatever it is called. He had found clarity in that he wasn’t just doing this because he wanted to become an adventurer. To protect the people he had found in this world, to make sure the family he had been given and the servants he shared house with, and the friends he would make.
To do that I am going to have to level and quickly too. Which was why the Monster Pageant served as the best opportunity he had to grind. That little practice quarrel he had participated in with Julianna had shown the ultimate exploit. Having Hop battle on his behalf served meant that the conflict was technically speaking only social from his own side of things.
Ladies gain xp from social conflicts rather than fighting. Quenton had to find a way to turn that around in the future since he wanted to fight monsters after all, but for now, that was easy enough to exploit.
Especially, because one of the notable parts of monster pageants was quarrels. And as Quenton had learned from investigating such pageants, they were only for people in good standing in society. Which he presumed meant that they all would have a high s-level, or at least higher than himself. That would mean each quarrel won would be guaranteed xp for him.
And that was not the only exploit in this situation.
Okay, so I can’t sing but it still worked. Quenton had stood outside in the gardens trying to attract the sparrows to come and land at him in various ways, he tried to sing as princesses did in old movies. He had halfway expected the birds to fly down and land to be enraptured by his song and stare down at him with reverence in their eyes.
The croaking he had come with had sadly not been effective in enrapturing the birds, but they did come close to look at him as he tried to come with his best tv-princess impression. Step two, see how far I can push this. He thought as the tiny flock of sparrows assembled on the nearest branches to stare down at him with not as much reverence as naked bewilderment.
If Quenton jumped up he could probably touch one, but he would not try to jump in a dress for one, and secondly, that was rushing ahead. When conducting experiments one has to be careful, to see what works and what doesn’t. He reminded himself as he then produced a tiny pouch filled with seeds.
The seeds spilled out from the tiny pouch and onto the palm of his outstretched hand, and Quenton then spoke. “It is safe. You will not be harmed by me. Come and eat.” He tried to sound serious and imposing like a druid should, and sure enough, the sparrows flocked down to begin eating out of his hand.
He almost yelped and let the seeds spill between his fingers, but his increased Grace and Poise let him handle being made a temporary bird station with his dignity left intact. Quenton had about six sparrows all clamoring to eat out of his hand and the pouch.
It got even better when he managed to convince the sparrows to do incredibly basic tricks for food, which made him think that they didn’t understand his words as much as the basic intent behind them.
Beast Kin is so op. Quenton had thought then and it did explain certain things about Hop, which Camilla pointed out early on as she helped him prepare for the pageant.
“Dear sister either your Hop is extraordinarily well-bred or you have secretly been hiding that you are a savant with wyverns,” Camilla stated in a halfway accusatory manner on the second day of them training Candle and Hop together.
“The only reason you could have hoped to attend the pageant at all is that Hop is a wyvern. Wyverns are similar to many monsters born from eggs in that they are practically born fully mature.” Camilla lectured haughtily as she watched Candle go through a little obstacle course that Leo Henderson, the head gardener, had set up away from the rose bushes.
Quenton nodded as he had read that in the booklet, which made them only have to develop a few things that were more about habit than biology. Like learning to not swallow things into their secondary stomachs directly, so that they didn’t suddenly wake up half-formed smoke sludge.
“But, everything I have ever seen or read is that wyverns are stubborn, prideful, and hard to manage until they adjust to having a human master. It is one of the many reasons that wyverns usually aren’t in fashion.” Camilla continued as she eyed Hop flying out to collect rings with his leg talons and carry them into the air. “So, that your practically newborn wyvern has grown to accept you this quickly is practically unprecedented. I thought it would be hard to make him take-off and land on command, let alone actually competing in something that isn’t a quarrel.”
She frowned as her eyes followed the two monsters as they did their little training tasks. “It doesn’t make sense.” Quenton on his end had to flex all of his Composure to make sure that he didn’t grin widely with pride at his little Hop.
Beast Kin is op. He thought again as he practically shouted in his brain with triumph at Beast Kin, as the default kin state had made Hop accept him as one of his own kind. I should ask Aliss what Hop is like when she has to watch him. Quenton reminded himself as he watched Hop with satisfaction.
“Monster Pageants have four main competitions you understand.” Julianna nodded helpfully one day that she came to visit and drank tea with Quenton while Hop and Ariella played together in a flowery meadow.
“Beauty, breeding, skill, and quarrels.” She nodded solemnly with each category and giggled as Ariella tricked Hop into almost crashing into a branch. Quenton on his end came with a short intake of breath with worry right before Hop managed to evade the branch.
“Are you well, Lady Briony?” Julianna asked with a sudden look of alarm and Quenton gave a broad smile while rubbing the back of his head. “Oh, I apologize I was just frightened that Hop might come to actually hurt himself there. He is ever so dear to me and being a new…mother as it were would perhaps make me a bit overprotective.”
Quenton flinched internally as Julianna giggled and he could practically feel his Detect Faux Pas skill beginning to pay attention. “Oh what an unusual way to put it Lady Briony, but I would be a liar if I claimed to not understand.” She was slightly flushed as she replied, but then gestured back to the two animals.
A look of worry flashed across her face before a determined one took its place. “I may be out of order in pointing this out, and I hope you won’t take offense.” Quenton looked over at Julianna and tried to come with an encouraging nod. I wonder what she is worried about.
“It may not be my place to say so, but Hop seems…not as graceful in the air as one would expect.” Quenton saw the girl practically scrunch her face in preparation for being scolded or something similar. He on the other hand didn’t say anything as he observed Hop flapping through the air instead and compared it to how he had seen him fly at night.
Oh…derp. “Yes, I think you are correct, Lady Julianna. However, you haven’t seen him at night. Hop is a bat wyvern after all, so it would only be natural that he would perform best at night.” He nodded amiably to Julianna who immediately relaxed. “Please continue telling me about the contests.”
Julianna returned the expression and nodded excitedly. “Of course, Lady Briony. Why you see breeding is about-”
“The monster’s ability to conform to the expected standards of his breed.” Viola nodded while looking through a heavy tome that looked so dry that Quenton could practically feel his eyelids droop by just looking at it.
“I will be frank with you sister.” Viola closed the book with a loud snap and looked Quenton right in the eyes, her gaze like iron at that moment. “Hop will have no chance to do well in that part of the pageant.” Quenton felt his heart sink and anger flare up in him. “Why? Hop is a great example-”
“No.” She said it with such finality that Quenton stopped in his tracks. “Your Hop is a healthy example of his species, not a good example of any of the recognized wyvern breeds. In short, he is a mutt. His wings are too long, he lacks any recognizable color splotches along his legs. For that matter his legs are like his wings in that they are too long and muscular, dwarf bat wyverns are meant to be round and pudgy.”
Viola dispassionately listed all of the apparent faults that Hop had with such efficiency that Quenton just wanted to curl up into a ball or yell in outrage. Before he could decide which option he would go for, Viola held her hand up in a warding-off gesture.
“That is based on the standards expected for the breeds. I am not a proponent of competitive monster breeding, as most modern research implies it is incredibly damaging to their species as the breeds become more and more degenerated from inbreeding.” Viola showed far more passion for this as she clenched one of her hands into a fist with righteous anger.
“But you just listed all of Hop’s faults?” Quenton tried to both divert Viola away from ranting while also expressing his confusion at the situation. “Arbitrary flaws, based on all I can tell he seems remarkably healthy and he is even quite…adorable in his way. I prefer birds myself, but that is an unneeded digression. To make the explanation short, his actual appearance and health is unimportant. Hop is a mutt so he does not conform to the breed standards, he will therefore score low.”
Viola then shrugged and opened her book again in a way that made it clear she was finished. “But he could have a chance in the other competitions, like beauty.”
“Beauty, is more than just the physical shape of your animal companion.” Mrs. Seaver along with Rosalind and Aliss had agreed to help prepare costumes for Hop. The governess was lecturing like she was back in the impromptu study room.
“Just like a sophisticated Lady requires charm, grace, and poise to truly wield their beauty like how she would wield her needle while embroidering. So does her companion need to reflect these intrinsic virtues or else be a source of shame for her Lady. A properly reared monster can be brought as a fitting companion as easily to a royal ball as one would bring it to a hunt.” She gestured to Hop who was busily munching down a plate full of grasshoppers while Aliss tried to take measurements.
Rosalind and Quenton were embroidering while Mrs. Seaver lectured and Aliss took the measurements. “Sister, there are many ways we can express the beauty of your wyvern. I am not sure your particular style of embroidery will be the most…germane to use for his costumes.” Rosalind inclined her head towards the really badass battle-ax pattern that Quenton was busily embroidering with silver thread.
Quenton frowned for a moment before shaking his head defiantly. “I trust your counsel sister, but Hop should reflect our bond and these are the only patterns that truly inspire me.” He said as a little flush rose in his cheeks as he met Rosalind’s eyes.
I am not wasting that badass mecha design I made for his chest piece. He thought with some fondness back on the design he had finished earlier that day, while Rosalind sighed patiently. “Well, one supposes that it is better to work within these constraints rather than fight against them. Show me what you are creating and how you are thinking, so I can best help you.” Rosalind leaned forwards until she was practically pressed against Quenton and looked down at his work.
“And of course, there is the matter of the display of grace. We must choreograph a number that will make Hop’s…nobler qualities shine through his unfortunate breeding. I already have some ideas if her ladyship would like to hear them.” Mrs. Seaver had been busily ranting while the two sisters spoke, but that particular part demanded Quenton’s attention.
Julianna had explained that each competition had several branching ones within. Quarrels had the elimination tournament battle, the round-robin tournament, and the free-for-all. While beauty had outfits, presentations, and the display of grace. Which seems to be almost like a choreographed dance number based on what Julianna told me. He thought while looking down at Aliss who was struggling to properly measure one of the wings.
She can’t present anything unless directly spoken to. Quenton realized and thought that might help from having to listen to Mrs. Seaver for hours. “Actually, I would be delighted to hear about your suggestions. Maybe Aliss could help you with relaying these ideas to me, so you would not have to be burdened with having to explain that in addition to other topics of import.”
I think that one worked. Quenton crossed his fingers underneath the embroidery as the governess thought for a long moment before nodding with a thoughtful smile. “That would be proper, after all your ladies’ maid would have to work closely with you on this as she is the caretaker of the little one. So, it would be best that the two of us handle it together.”
Quenton thought almost that he saw a slight hint of a glare from Aliss from where she sat and struggled with the little wyvern, but when she replied she did so as a consummate professional. “I would be glad to do so my lady.”
“I am not a man for pageants and all that stuff, but I understand the idea with the whole skills section thing milady,” Henderson said as he placed out a large box filled with various balls, rings, and other toys and tools. “Ultimately, I imagine that wyverns are not that much different from hounds and horses. I helped ride in all the horses here, so I can try and help you discipline your Hop.”
Aliss was holding a very reluctant Hop in her arms and Quenton saw that she clearly had something to say and nodded to her. “The skill competitions are meant to be a show of control, my lady. How well can it perform tasks, listen to orders, and how good is at adapting and performing tricks.” She spoke respectfully but with a clear strain in her voice as Hop squirmed in her grip.
“Training a beast is all about the carrot en' the stick milady. Err…not the literal stick your ladyship.” Henderson rubbed his head awkwardly as he saw the horrified expression on Quenton’s face at the mention of the stick.
“When it does what it is supposed to do, then you reward it. If it fails to do what you ask then you are patient, and if it disobeys you actively then you scold it. A good and steady hand is all ya need milady.” The gardener nodded grandly as he gestured to Aliss and indicated that she let Hop go.
Hop sprung out of her arms and flapped his wings to rise into the air with a majestic shriek. “Now, milady, we will just have to teach him some commands and get him to pick up toys and dodge obstacles.” Henderson twirled his mustache as he watched the wyvern inelegantly move through the sky.
Quenton pulled out a bag containing dried grasshoppers that had been specifically prepared by Ella for that purpose. Hop immediately turned in the air and started to descend down towards him and Henderson. Time to flex Beast Kin. The thought filled his head and made Quenton want to do a mental equivalent of cracking his knuckles.
At least this part should go well. Quenton thought as he sat up in the night and stroked Hop while thinking about quarrels. Ella sat down by the hearth and did her usual nightly duty of setting the fire as she thought.
“I think I have it.” He said resolutely after picturing the scenario some more in his head. Ella looked up from the hearth and canted her head, clearly burning with curiosity and Quenton waved with his hand to show she could ask. “What have you come up with milady?” She asked carefully while still having her hands move within the hearth.
“Maybe what will guarantee my victory in the quarrels, but I wish I could properly test the idea outside of the needed training.” The statement caused Quenton to rub his chin as he furrowed his brow in concentration.
“Ehem, well, I may have an idea milady, but I am pretty sure it ain’t proper” Ella rubbed her foot against the floor and looked sheepish with a slight blush on her cheeks. Quenton looked up and he could practically feel his Cunning stat look up with him. “Tell me more.”
Candle dodged Hop’s lunge at him and rolled along the grass. The two were practice quarreling with each respective owner shouting encouragements to their respective monster. Quenton had done this several times by now and while it was useful it had one drawback, apparently quarrels meant for training did not count as social conflicts, so they had no xp reward.
I think there needs to be stakes or at least no altruistic intent behind the quarrel for it to work. So he couldn’t use the sparring practice to farm xp. But there was experience in doing it, and that was valuable as well.
At first, Hop had just done what he willed. Fighting with instinct and naught but that. Which was less helpful against someone like Candle who was both naturally devious, and who received advice from his even more devilish owner.
“Hop, blow dust at him!” Quenton shouted out as the two quarreling monsters reached a part of the meticulously kept lawn that touched the sand and dirt of the path. Hop used his superior strength and weight to throw Candle over the road and then flapped his wings to send sand and dirt right into his face.
“That is most unbecoming of you sister!” Camilla exclaimed in anger and shook her little fist with fury as the two monsters continued their struggles. “I would remind you that I learned that trick from someone,” Quenton replied with a grin as he remembered back to those early sparring rounds where Candle had been fond of that particular tactic.
Candle was also very fond of feigning weakness before striking at a confident opponent who underestimated him. A tactic that Quenton hoped to copy in the upcoming pageant as well, both in the quarrels and outside of them.
Beast Kin had been helpful in securing that the training for the various competitions stuck with Hop and that he picked it up quickly. In quarrels especially it seemed as Hop reacted practically instantly to his commands now, and he could pick up more complex tactics than one would expect from such a freshly trained wyvern.
Quenton and Hop had been practicing on a trump card move ever since the obvious flaw that Hop had to contend with surfaced. Hop had excellent hearing, but his eyes did not handle light well at all and he was almost practically blind in the daylight.
“Too bad I don’t think we can use it in the skill competitions, but I want to actually test the move properly before the tournament.” Quenton lamented to himself for what must have been the twelfth time as Hop and Candle finished their sparring.
It was little use to practice it with Candle as kobolds apparently were just as nocturnal as bat wyverns, if a bit less blind in areas with strong lighting.
Julianna had limited opportunities to come to visit with Ariella as the marriage inspections grew both more frequent and more in-depth. Her most recent letter to him had been written with a false over positivity in his mind.
Quenton had started to think more seriously about that aspect of life in this new world. First, he had only viewed it as a leveling opportunity to consider in the future. But the more he had seen with Julianna the more he had begun to worry.
That could be me next. Was the realization he still struggled with, if his family was pushed further down on the social totem pole. Then he would have no problem with believing that Ivy and Tomas would throw any of the sisters to some old man to protect the family.
So, Quenton needed to get stronger. To get stronger he needed xp, but opportunities for xp weren’t exactly coming in as frequently as he would have liked. At this point, in the stories, the main character is usually at least past level 5. He thought bitterly. Those assholes never had to wear a corset or deal with fork rules and bullion spoons.
Ella had come up with a suggestion for how he could test the trump card last night, but it would require finesse and cunning if he was going to be able to arrange it.
“I am not the sort that does such things milady, but I hear things and I know most people in the village and around Faercliffe. Some of them aren’t always the proper sorts that a maid should know. Like Harold.” Ella spoke hesitantly that evening as she looked up at Quenton.
He on his end merely circulated his hand to make her continue and so she continued a bit more firmly. “Harold told me once that he knew some of the farming lads and the toffs er, I mean young lords.” She clasped her hands in front of her mouth but when Ella saw that Quenton did not react to the slip up she explained. “They like to bet on private quarrels, not the sort that the companions of ladies put on. But the sort in barns or hidden cellars where farm dogs fight monsters.”
“Interesting.” Quenton knew about dogfighting from back home and the prospect of risking Hop like that galled him. The only reason he could stand watching Hop fight at all was that quarrels were equal parts play and combat. Bloodless and mostly safe. Nor did he want to see Hop hurt innocent farm dogs.
The monsters of those young noblemen on the other hand. Now that, I think I could sleep well with. Quenton then asked the question he needed to ask before beginning a plan like that. “Do you think that we could…send a word out to these people?” He asked that night as in the back of his head a plan started to form.
That can only end well.