Fates of Grenora: Return of the Night

Aldrin stared between the two as they ate breakfast on the first floor of the inn after each of them washed up and cleaned their armor. Jared and Pierre were still dressed in their mismatched leather armor, while Aldrin still kept his own leather armor. A little while later, after they were seated, Thakheam had stopped by to bid them good morning by placing a barrel full of water next to their table. Pierre was forever grateful for the gesture, then filled himself up with water. Jared had been unusually quiet since he had told Aldrin of the Servant Quest they had completed.

Finally gathering his thoughts, "So let me get this straight," Aldrin spoke, getting the attention of both.

"You guys got a Quest for helping me?" Aldrin asked slowly.

Jared nodded, "I mean, we weren't sure how you would feel about it since. . .you know. . . you hate being you," he said with raised eyebrows.

Aldrin sat back, taking what Jared said seriously, "Look, I don't hate myself-" he started.

"That's a lie," Pierre interjected, placing his water down, "We have been with you for what seems like forever but in reality it has been a week and a half give or take and during that time we have seen how you look after doing what needs to be done to survive."

"So when we got the Quest we weren't sure if we should have shared it with you or not," Jared added.

Aldrin took it all in with an open mind. "What changed?" He asked.

"Pierre believes in fate and believes that we are meant to help you do whatever it is because we had encountered you three times that night," Jared said.

"And Pierre is big on the number three, like superstitious about it and while I have gotten us out of some sticky situations with my thinking, he also had his moments of being right about certain things pertaining to three," He continued, shoveling a forkful of eggs in his mouth.

"I think after coming to terms with that Jared longer than I, we were offered the Quest," Pierre said.

Clearing his throat, "So long story short again, you have loyal minions ready to do your bidding!" Jared gave a cheeky grin.

"And you guys are ok with helping me? Knowing what I have to do to survive?" Aldrin asked cautiously.

Jared laughed at that. "Aldrin, please, you're a good person at heart, and that means you're winning at controlling your impulses, and when you can't, that's what we are here for."

"Honestly, we want to help you. Maybe it would atone for the fucked up shit we had to do on Imawas," he added the last part quietly as he pushed around the remaining eggs on his plate.

Finally, unable to contain it any longer, "What happened on Imawas?" Aldrin asked the two of them.

Jared visibly blanched as the blood drained from his face. Pierre placed a hand on his shoulder, gripping it tightly. "You know how we said when we came here we were in college?" Pierre started.

Aldrin nodded for him to continue.

"When it happened, we were in our geology class, and our professor at the time had pulled up the news as chunks of the world were disappearing throughout the week. It was supposed to be a special project for the class because no one could figure out what exactly was happening," Pierre informed.

"Then the disappearances became more frequent, and the world panicked as none of the governments stepped forward to claim responsibility or offer a solution. On the day our university was going to let us go home to our families, we were the next ones to be transported here."

"It happened really fast. One moment we were on Earth, then there was a blinding light, and next thing we knew we were waking up on one of the islands of Imawas in the middle of a battlefield," Pierre finished.

"I've heard rumors of the civil war in Imawas, but I just thought they were just rumors," Aldrin admitted.

Pierre scoffed, "Oh gods no, it's between the Fire Giants of Ovran, the volcanic continent to the North, and Ice Giants of Vlaslor, the frozen continent to the South. Both tribes had ventured from their homelands looking for new lands to settle, and those happened to be the islands of Imawas," he said.

"Apparently they think that they each have a right to the islands, but neither wants to leave it to the other, so they fight and they conscript slaves to do it for them."

"But why?" Aldrin asked.

"If the two tribes of Giants go to war, it would cause the other three tribes, the Mountain, Hill, and Sky Giants, to pick sides, and all of them are friends with both the Fire and Ice tribes. Their laws demand that all tribes uphold a truce for the good of all Giants in order to prosper." Pierre clarified.

"But the laws didn't state that they couldn't fight indirectly, which is where the slaves come from," Aldrin puzzled it together, earning a proud nod from Pierre.

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"117,637 people were left on campus getting ready to go home," Jared shared.

"101,029 passed basic training."

"99,241 went to war."

"17 lived and came home."

"5 escaped."

"2 are free," he finished, the haunting look he had at the campfire when they first talked about this showed on his face again.

Aldrin was unsure of what to say, to hear that so few people lived spoke volumes of the harsh war on Imawas.

"We didn't gain all our levels with the bandits; truthfully, we had only gained one level with them. The rest came from Imawas since it was a fight to live and live to eat," Pierre said.

"Fight to live and live to eat," Jared echoed, thumping his chest with his fist.

"That was the mantra they instilled in us every day," Pierre said, clearing the beginning confusion from Aldrin's face.

Pierre sighed heavily, like the weight of the world was still on his shoulders. "We were murderers before we could even experience this world," he added.

"Who did you fight for?" Aldrin asked.

"Well, the Giants found us and agreed to split us 50/50 after basic training and we got shuffled in with the Ice Giants," Pierre said.

"It still haunts us, we rarely get any sleep without us taking shifts to keep watch because not only did we have to watch for our classmates that got roped in with the Fire Giants but also the monsters and beasts that roamed whatever island we were shipped on," Jared answered that one.

"So, helping you get yourself fixed might help alleviate some of the guilt I feel," Jared admitted.

Aldrin looked between the two of them, the raw hurt and memories dancing at the forefront. "Thank you both for sharing it with me," he said, looking them both in the eye.

"What are the options for Servant then?" He asked.

Clearing his throat to keep himself from getting choked up, "Well, we can take it as a Class, Profession, or Title each with their own effects but one constant with all three of them," Pierre said.

"Undead would consider us friendly no matter what," Jared stated.

Aldrin's eyebrows rose in shock. "That's a big boon! Speaking of which, I had a relation section show up when I Inspected Saloth. It was neutral nevertheless, and to say that this Quest offers a friendly relation with Undead is a lot."

Aldrin leaned forward and folded his hands on the table. "So what does each offer then?" He asked, excited to learn ‌new things regarding the system.

"Here, see for yourself!" Jared shared the Quest.

Aldrin read over them a few times, trying to at least gleam what each is capable of. "The Class seems to be more combat focused."

Jared nodded in agreement, "And the Profession I am guessing is more like a supporting role?"

"Leaving the Title as just that, a title," Pierre clarified.

"I mean, all of them have a strength and weakness to them, but honestly I don't know what's going to happen when I'm cured," Aldrin stated.

Jared shared a look with Pierre. "And if you can't?" Jared asked.

"Can't what?" Aldin asked.

Jared took a deep breath. "Can't be cured? Like what if this is permanent? I mean, have you ever encountered something like this before? Something that changes your very being?"

Stumped, Aldrin didn't like to think about the possibility that this was permanent and he could never return to the life he had, but it was there in the back of his mind. He knew he wouldn't be able to see his sister and grandfather or the friends he had made back in the capital city of Dawnmar. Images of his dad threatened to surface as well, which he promptly beat back, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

"I thought about it and honestly, I don't know what I'm going to do if I can't be cured."

"I got it!" Pierre slapped his hand on the table.

"We go to the Progenitor Continent if we can't find a cure here!" He said.

Jared and Aldrin stared at Pierre, who looked like he had announced the greatest plan. "No more drinking for you! You warned me, and I didn't believe you, and that's on me," Jared flippantly said.

"I mean, it's not a bad idea," Aldrin supported Pierre

Jared whipped his head around so fast it looked like he almost broke it. "ARE YOU INSANE?!"

"I'M SUPPOSED TO BE THE INSANE ONE! NOT ANY OF YOU!" He screamed, pointing at both of them with his face turning red at the very thought of going.

Pierre rubbed the back of his neck and looked away at Jared's sudden outburst. "Technically, we don't know what's there since it's the Forbidden Continent."

"Yeah! Fucking exactly! The Forbidden Continent! Nobody comes back from exploration over there! No one worth talking to, at least, because they are all crazy!" Jared continued his outburst.

Standing up, "THAKHEAM! I NEED A DRINK!" Jared stomped over to the bar.

"That could have gone better," Aldrin said, watching Jared down a shot of whatever Thakheam poured.

"It's the only place that might have a cure, or at least something that could help. No one has been over there to fully explore, and if they do, they don't come back the same. This could be the chance you need," Pierre explained.

"I'm on board with the idea, don't get me wrong, but we need to be at a higher level first before we even gear up for the trip."

Pierre looked over at Jared again, who downed another shot. "I'll try to convince him, but back to the matter we were originally talking about, I'll take the Title of Servant,"

After Pierre selected his choice, a wispy white light shot from him into Aldrin.

"Oh whoa, that's a weird feeling," Pierre said, patting the spot on his chest where the light shot from.

Frowning and looking down at the spot the light went into, "What was that?" Aldrin asked.

"Guess we'll find out when we need to," Pierre shrugged.

Jared came back a few moments later, placing his empty shot glass on the table. "IF we have to go to the Progenitor Continent, then we head to Folos first before we head to Ebira to take a ship across the water."

"Does that mean you are in with Plan B?" Pierre asked hopefully.

Jared's tensed shoulders dropped. "Yes, I am," he sighed in defeat.

"Alright then, we start here in Lor-Vold, ask around about any shops that specialize in fighting the Undead, and meet back here around midnight?" Pierre suggested. They agreed to the plan and made their way down to the Production District of the city, where they first entered.