This is going to be the hard part. Quenton thought with trepidation as he sat in his room alone five days before the pageant. He had worked hard for a long time to get ready, but he wasn’t confident he could go into the pageant without being certain that Hop would be ready.

 

Quest: Night Quarrels 1

Description: Before the annual autumn monster pageant, you have expressed uncertainty that you will be able to win in the quarrels. Ella has told you about illegal night battles between local aristocrats, village people/farmers, and travelers interested in betting. Create a situation where you can enter or arrange “night quarrels” and grow more experienced.

Objective: Partake in one Night Quarrel and have Hop win the majority of the battles.

Reward: 60 Experience Points, Increased Armor For Hop

Accept: Yes/No?

 

After the idea had started to float around in his head, that very quest notification had appeared and similarly floated in the back of his vision, waiting for an answer. “If I do this, I have to be careful not to hurt those I care about,” Quenton promised himself, remembering the corpse of a kindly old footman whom he had never even given a passing thought to.

Our actions have consequences, the litrpg protagonists always learn that lesson late in the story. He had sadly had to learn that lesson early on, and it hurt just as much as it had been described in the stories.

With that said, I need to do this. Was the last thought he needed to steel himself, and then he reached out and pulled the string that would signal Aliss to come up. Her help is essential in this, along with Ella and Harold. He thought, mostly to absolve himself of the guilt that would come with this manipulation.

As usual, Aliss entered the room as silently as a ghost in the night, but Quenton was watching the door so he saw her slip in. She gave him that very slight and professional smile that most of the servants gave him, but with that slight twinge of sadness that he had come to notice in her particular variant.

“What can I do for you, my Lady?” Aliss asked gently as she stood at attention before Quenton. Emotions, that will be my way in through her. It can’t be anything too scandalous, but I think she cares for me or at least for Briony. He could almost literally feel his increased Cunning attribute whispering to him.

“I-” Quenton stopped and took a sip of water to remove the dry feeling from his mouth. “I can…trust you, Aliss?” He mangled the question a bit as his genuine nervousness mixed in with the emotions he was trying to convey.

Aliss furrowed her brow slightly in worry and stepped slowly forward as she replied. “Of course, your ladyship.” Quenton nodded gravely and beckoned her even closer so that he could hold her hands. “I must confess to feeling…confined and set upon. My ailment that I must keep hidden, the mistakes I have made that damaged our house…that cost us, Jonah.”

He stopped as genuine tears actually started to make themselves known and Quenton desperately tried to stop them. Don’t cry, don’t be a wimp. Just…just get through this. His thoughts raced back to the intended objective while Aliss looked at him with sympathy going out from her eyes.

“I am sorry to hear that my lady, is there anything I can do to help?” Aliss asked tenderly as they sat there holding hands. Quenton wondered for just a moment if this was not the time just to be completely honest instead of outright trickery. “And now, there is the pageant and I don’t want Hop and I to be an embarrassment to the house. We only have a few days left of training, and I don’t think what we do will be enough.”

Aliss canted her head slightly as he moved the topic, clearly wondering where he was going with this. “I need to be able to…walk in someone else's shoes as it were. Therefore, could you help me make sure that Hop and I can train at night safely and without shame falling upon the family.” Quenton tried to form the question delicately, but he saw that Aliss was already confused.

“I am not sure I understand what you need your ladyship,” Aliss asked slowly as she looked into his eyes. Quenton blinked rather than trying to stare back and he tried to explain it. “I mean I want help to go out at night with Hop and have him train when he is at his strongest, but I do not want to cause offense or draw attention. So, if I had something to wear that would…hide who I am. Then I could do it.”

Quenton stopped as his explanation was close to meandering into a long rant, and he tried to give a reassuring smile instead. Aliss looked at him for a long moment without saying a word. Her gaze was like a giant needle pinning him in place, but he managed to keep his face from betraying his emotions.

“If I may ask Lady Briony, what kind of training is it?” She finally asked after having held his gaze for what felt like an eternity. Man am I sweating. Quenton couldn’t help but focus on that detail just as he tried to formulate a good answer. That threw him off for a second and he used the glass of water as a conversational retreat by sipping from it.

“He needs to be ready for the quarrels, and I don’t think all of the practice in the daytime is enough. That has been plaguing me and I have thought of the solution, but to do so I need to be able to dress in a manner that is inconspicuous.” Quenton decided to just use the truth this time and hoped that would be a functional lever to pull.

Aliss looked at him and Quenton saw that her mind was working on the problem, trying to see if there was anything more behind this. He lightly squeezed her hand and tried to project melancholy with his face. “Trust me, please? If you can make me an outfit in three days, I think it will be worth it. Just keep it a secret between you and me.”

She hadn’t stopped looking at Quenton with her inquisitive eyes, but eventually, her neutral servant’s face faded in place of a small smile. “I will of course be of assistance to you my lady. Could you tell me more about what you desire so that I can begin the work?” Aliss had a slight note of recrimination in her voice and Quenton realized he had no idea if three days was a reasonable amount of time or not.

“Thank you, Aliss. Truly, I meant it from the bottom of my heart.” He said while holding his hand over his heart to indicate the seriousness of his words. “Now as for that outfit-”

 

---

 

Quenton rode down to the village along with Camilla, Faercliffe village was a run-down looking place. Built close to the cliff that had named it, but also at the edge of a large forest and beyond that again a mire which stretched for miles, the village was built in the harsher portion of the county. And the village looked like the land it stood on, slightly untamed, ravaged by the elements, but still proud and with a strong foundation.

He had been lucky when it came to Camilla, unlike Aliss she did not need to be convinced to go along with the plan. She had even gone so far as to offer to cover for Quenton while he snuck out and for when he did the preparations.

Faercliffe village had several tradespeople living it, and the one that he was seeking out today was the local cobbler. Never put all your eggs in one basket, and I don’t need to have Aliss make me shoes and a new outfit in three days. He thought gravely as the two ladies rode into the village, as they stopped outside of the cobbler’s shop Quenton whistled.

As the whistle echoed through the air, the call was answered by a reptilian shriek and Hop descended towards the sisters. Quenton almost winced as Hop was seemingly close to crashing into one of the taller village houses at one point, before righting himself and landing on the ground before him.

“What a good boy you are,” Quenton said lovingly as he leaned forward to feed Hop a snack while also rubbing his head. The little wyvern cooed happily as he bit into the dried piece of jerky that Quenton had brought with him.

“I still can’t fathom how you have been so fortunate to be blessed with the first obedient newborn wyvern, that the world has ever seen,” Camilla commented dryly as Hop jumped into Quenton’s arms.

“He is my very special boy then, just like Candle is yours,” Quenton replied while hugging Hop against his chest. Camilla had no response to that beyond a sneer, and with no more words exchanged the two entered the cobbler shop.

 

---

 

“Boots milady, are you sure?” Markus the village cobbler was still clearly surprised as he for the fourth time repeated Quenton’s request. “Yes, reinforced boots with several extra soles. Not riding boots or similar, but more what one would expect from a working man.”

The middle-aged cobbler casually rubbed the top of his bare head with a calloused finger and it sounded almost like sandpaper being rubbed against skin. “And this is to be kept confidential. It is for a charity function, and well…I would prefer not to have the surprise spoiled before my sister sees it.” Quenton continued to explain and while it didn’t end the clear curiosity that the older man felt, it did seem to satisfy him.

“Hmm…that can be done milady, so you want this delivered to the manor before two days have passed?” Markus asked carefully and Quenton nodded imperiously, like he had seen Rosalind do when talking to servants. “Precisely, my sister and I would hope that this would not be an imposition for you.” Camilla supplied while Quenton nodded and she gave the cobbler the sweetest smile that he had ever seen his sister give anyone.

“It won’t be a matter at all milady, my son and me will get those boots sorted quick-like,” Markus said with some pride in his voice while stroking his beard. “Your feet just have to be measured, that’s about all that I need to get started.”

“Wonderful, I’ve brought the measurements with me,” Quenton said as he pulled a note from his yellow purse and handed it to the cobbler. When he had suggested to Camilla to have the cobbler measure his feet, she had sworn up a storm about how uncouth and vulgar that would be. So he had Aliss do it instead.

With the measurements given, there was surprisingly nothing else that was needed, Quenton thought it was strange that he didn’t have to pay or even show a credit card or something. The manor would just pay for these kinds of services, and the village accepted it as normal.

Not that I know much about paying bills, maybe that is how it is in real life as well? He wondered absently as the duo left the cobbler and began riding back to the manor. But notedly, not the same route as before.

His horse snorted with effort as Camilla and Quenton made their way through the woods surrounding the manor grounds. A habit that Quenton had noted that his horse was saddled with like it was constantly having to restrain from sneezing or something. Please tell me that is temporary, so I don’t end up with a mount named Snort instead of Shadowdash. Quenton thought with some dread as he petted the flank of the unnamed horse.

The first purpose of the trip had been to go to the cobbler, but the second was even more important. He needed to find a good route to sneak away from the manor, and there was an obvious idea for how to find one. Camilla had suggested it.

“Why don’t we find the trail that the Assassins used to sneak up to our manor? They wouldn’t bother with going through thick bushes and similar where everyone would be able to hear them. A concealed trail is what makes sense.” She had said with the confidence of a girl who is used to thinking of herself as the most sensible person in the room.

It took a good two hours of slow riding and a lot of snorting from his horse, but Quenton and Camilla managed to find a small goat track through the woods.

---

 

“Scale dye? Why, I don’t think we have that, but if you want to dye his scales I would recommend you do that after the breeding competition.” Viola said as she busily scribbled on a piece of paper while seating at a desk in the library.

“Thank you, sister. I would just like to know if we could make something like it, I have only his scale ointment-” Quenton began to explain again but Viola warded it off with a gesture. “Then it shall be simple enough, I am sure one of the maids can help you with that. Take some dye from the kitchens and mix it in with the scale ointment. You could get a proper dye, but it would be similar to one of your watercolors. So, you could just wash it off him when it was no longer needed.”

I didn’t think off that. He thought bemused for a second before exclaiming with happiness. “Thank you so much Viola! You always look out for me.” Quenton almost went in for a hug but stopped himself. Viola finally looked up from her work and gave him an enigmatic little smile. “Your compliment is appreciated, sister.”

---

“I think we have all the steps ready, Camilla,” Quenton said after having practically pulled her into his room and walked over to where he had written down ideas. A small brown notebook had been where he had scribbled down the various incoherent ideas that eventually became his plan.

“We have secured all that I need for my attire, falconry gloves, the disguise, and the boots. The route to get out is ready, and I’ve gotten Ella to mix a proper scale dye for Hop.” Quenton proclaimed excitedly as he gestured down to his little checklist.

Camilla looked up at him and her expression conveyed that she was less than impressed. “I did ride with you and visited the cobbler too. There is no need to repeat such events when I already know of them.” He ignored her complaint and continued to gesticulate excitedly.

“You and Aliss can cover for me after the dinner tonight, I will sneak out with Hop and take the trail down to the main road. Harold will chaperone me and we’ll head to the barn.” Camilla frowned a bit as this part of the plan was repeated and she held up a hand to make him stop.

“Harold has worked for our family for many years to be sure, but he has a dark reputation, and for good reason. Do you truly think it wise to entrust yourself to him?” Her voice was actually genuinely worried which touched Quenton, but this was not the time to doubt the plan.

“Who better among our staff? For a task like this, a man of ill-repute is exactly what we need. He and Ella have put the word out and while it has apparently spread like a wildfire through the county.” Quenton said while trying to project his confidence to Camilla.

“Who crafted the mask?” Camilla seemed to have decided to change the topic rather than continue the debate. He stopped for a moment and spoke more plainly since extreme confidence was no longer needed. “I had Mr. Henderson make me one out of polished wood. He is a deft hand in such matters and I painted it. The falconry gloves are a discarded pair our father used once.”

Quenton had decided that falconry gloves would be a better choice than trying to use the assortment of gloves he already owned. Ladies had to wear gloves while outside and such gloves were too…distinctive. And the falconry gloves will add to the mystery. He thought smugly before he continued.

“So, how are we going to explain it during dinner?” Quenton asked his sister who now was the one to smile confidently. “Oh, sister, I believe I will be more than capable of solving that particular problem.” More than that she refused to say.

 

---

 

It turned out that Camilla’s plan was simple, but very effective and rather uncomfortable for Quenton. While the family was having dinner and enjoying an expertly prepared fish, Camilla came to have her glass spilled over her “new” dress. This she blamed on Quenton and then proceeded to throw a histrionic tantrum where she at one point had pelted him with food.

And yet! Tomas sent Quenton to bed rather than Camilla. The young girl winked at him as he was forced to leave the dining room in shame, but with stainless clothes despite the rigorous attempt from Camilla to dirty them up.

The moment he was out of sight from the dining room, Quenton practically sprinted up the stairs and to his bedroom where Aliss was obligingly waiting for him. “Off with the dress now, we have little time.” He said hurriedly.

Aliss undressed him with practiced ease and left him ready to put on the disguise. Quenton was probably giddier about the outfit than any other aspect of the plan. I get to have a masked alter ego, maybe that could be my adventuring identity. Lady by day and adventurer by night? He thought through the barrage of emotion that filled him up as he pulled out the outfit.

It was a set of robes really, it had been made with a dark gray and black fabric that would cover his skin and conceal his body shape from top to toe. Quenton had instructed Aliss to lay in hooks in the cowl of the robes so he could hook his mask onto those, rather than have it strapped directly onto his face.

Once Aliss had helped him into the thick robes and adjusted the mask so he actually could see through the eyeholes cut into it. He then put on his shoes and the too-large gloves that Aliss obligingly bound with rope to make them look like they fit naturally.

“Tonight, people can think of me as…Shadowscale.” Quenton said as he appreciated the gravitas of the moment as he looked at his reflection in the mirror. Standing there was a taller if still a short man, dressed in dark wizard-like robes.

He had an embroidery of a wyvern on his cape and an embroidered slitted eye serving as a coat of arms on his chest as far as decorations went. The wooden mask was lacquered and painted red with narrow slits for eyeholes. Made to hard to see through from the outside while still making it easy for the wearer to look out through them.

In contrast to the richness of his general attire and the mysterious quality of his mask, the gloves he wore were the thick and leathery sort used for falconry. His boots were light brown and looked as heavy as they were.

It is going to be hard to run in these, but at least I don’t look like I am just five feet tall now. Quenton tried to step with the boots before looking at Aliss. Aliss was staring at him for a long moment before she ehemed and said. “That was an…interesting pseudonym Briony, it is…impressive.” He nodded in agreement and was glad that she could not see his smile past the mask.

Maybe this was how Batman would have felt when he first used his costume. Was his final thought as he slipped out of the room. And so Shadowscale left Faercliffe manor and stepped into the woods with a gray-colored bat-wyvern flying through the night sky above him.