Right at the break of dawn, in a peaceful roadside forest meadow, a tea party was beginning. Naturally, there was a table—a bit hastily put together and shaky, but a table nonetheless. Set around the table were half-a-dozen rickety wooden stools, somewhat lacking in elegance, but perfectly serviceable considering the circumstances. They were a modular design, allowing Fayette to disassemble and assemble them quick and easy.
If it were just that, it would hardly be a proper, elegant tea party at all, so Fayette had naturally done some additional prep work. She had gotten a neat blue tablecloth from Mireille, and set it on the table, giving a hint of civilization to the rustic setup. The steaming teapot was giving off a pleasant fragrance, and the rising sun was lighting up the whole setup just right.
It was an impressive effort on its own, but the most important part of a tea party wasn’t the setup or even the tea. No, every [Maid] knew that a tea party’s guests were the key. So, who had Fayette chosen as guests?
Naturally, the first choice had been the undercover [Lady], the so-called "miss Adrianne". Her newly freshened attire drew the eye, and the rest of the travelers were starting to clue in that the woman was no mere [Governess]. Naturally, nobody actually drew attention to the fact—matters of the nobility were not to be meddled in.
However, after the first guest had been chosen, Fayette had hit a bit of a dilemma. Where could she find other proper guests for an elegant [Lady]-level tea party in circumstances like this? After much internal struggling, she had finally relented and invited the hunter Martin, leader of the Salted Forks, as the second guest. Despite being a hunter, the man carried a certain dignity about him, perhaps due to his silvery hair, age and clean mustache.
He had brought his son Martino along, giving the tea party its third attendant. He was a rougher and more youthful version of his father, but still managed to politely sit at the table, displaying very proper etiquette.
Now, this grouping was still a bit lacking, so Fayette had needed a last touch to balance things out. Of course, a [Maid] couldn’t participate in the party herself, so she turned to her friends. The [Gutter Doctor] Olivia had come snooping as soon as the fragrant aroma of herbal tea had started wafting about, but Fayette had had certain reservations regarding her.
The [Doctor] was a direct and rough sort, and tended to smell slightly of drink and mold—not really someone tending towards elegance. Fayette had opted to distract her with an interesting mushroom she had found in the nearby forest.
So it came that the duty of overseeing the party and ensuring its success fell upon Mireille. A slightly tired and bedraggled Mireille. A Mireille who was silently cursing Fayette for thrusting this on her first thing in the still-very-early morning.
Take 4 different people who didn’t know each other too well, throw them into a tea party together and what do you get? Silence. Oh, there was a bit of small talk going on between the sips of tea, the [Lady] was making a decent effort at it, but it all tended to dwindle out like water from a leaky tub.
Fayette was hovering around the table, refilling cups whenever the need arose, and standing ready otherwise. Mireille felt the silent glare at her back and could almost hear Fayette’s internal screams. She rolled her eyes. Why do I have to do something about this atmosphere? I swear, Fay and her plots… Is this really for levels, or just for her amusement?
Mireille sighed and took another sip of the tea—it really was quite decent. She wondered how Fay had managed to get it. Now, normally an errant sigh would not draw too much notice, but to an undercover [Lady]? Such things were prime offerings.
“What’s taking up your mind?” The [Lady] asked as she set her cup down. “Far too early in the day for such pained sighs.”
Mireille started back to focus and met the woman’s concerned face. “Ah—Adri—, no you wanted to be called Marie, right?”
Marie gave a grateful smile. “Yes, if you would, please.”
Mireille nodded. “Right, well—I’ve had a lot on my mind recently, having a friend as troublesome as Fayette brings its headaches, but I suppose the real issue is…”
She closed her eyes, and went through her mind, looking through her troubled thoughts. A new career, a new path of life, following along as Fayette blazed forward on a new journey. She didn’t regret her choice to come along, but she did have some concerns.
She opened her eyes and quickly looked over her company—an undercover [Lady] and a pair of somewhat experienced hunters. Well, I guess a topic such as this should do well enough in company like this. If there’s one thing in this world that can always get people talking it's—
“—Levels.”
It wasn’t the most dramatic of confessions, but an instant understanding and sympathy passed through the company. Who could not relate to struggles over levels?
Martin brushed a finger along his mustache and gave a knowing look. “Ah—levels. Indeed, a concern I’ve held many times in my life, though not as much these days.”
Marie nodded too. “I too have spent many restless nights over leveling anxieties. What specifically ails you?”
Mireille signaled Fayette for a refill of her cup and watched the [Maid] walk off to the fire to refill her kettle. She spoke just a bit more quietly, hoping that her friend wasn’t indulging in her [Eavesdropping] tendencies.
“It is a typical concern, I suppose. I feel like I’m lagging a bit behind the rest of my team, and it’s hard to imagine what my specialization should be.”
Indeed, here she was, again witnessing a new scheme of Fayette’s—another new way to blast through levels as if they were nothing. And here I am, still a decent few levels off 15, with no idea of what uncommon specialization I could go for.
She wasn’t too worried about her leveling pace. She was getting a decent amount for the time she put in—not as many as Fay, but then again, who could? No, what truly irked her was her lack of ideas on a specialization. For the longest time, she had been aiming to eventually become a [Fashionista] or [Tailor] of some kind, but could such specializations be of use in combat? After all, she had to think of working as a hunter too, now.
Of course, she could have aimed for something combat related instead, but that led to different issues. She didn’t want to be embroiled in combat forever—her end goal was still to eventually become an independent store owner of some type. If all her skills were aimed at battle, how would she handle life after?
And then of course, there’s the matter of making sure my specialization leads to an uncommon class… I can hardly afford to have my leveling pace curtailed fourfold by a common one.
“Ah, the big fifteen is coming up, is it?” Martin said. He leaned over and ruffled his son’s hair. “Martino’s nearing it too, and I remember how it was back in the day.”
“Dad! I told you to stop doing that.”
The aged hunter chuckled, then turned back to Mireille, a sly look on his face. “I suppose I could share some titbits on my own leveling journey. Do you want to know why our party is called the salted knives?”
“Some type of special move you use?” Marie asked, looking intrigued.
“Well, sort of. I do have my signature [Salt in the Wounds] skill, but that’s something that followed after. Truth is, I was not originally a [Rogue], but rather a [Chef].”
Mireille perked up. “You’ve done a class change?”
The man winked. “Precisely! This is sort of retirement for me. Managed to become a pretty high-level chef, but then this fool here—” He once more roughed up his son’s head, “—got some ideas about adventure in his mind. Couldn’t let him run off all on his own, now could I? Thanks to the experience boost I earned, I outpaced him in levels quite fast, hah!”
The anguish visible on the young Martino’s face spoke of many, many fruitless objections, and Mireille could sympathize. True, she had never known a family of her own, but just imagining one of the orphanage's [Caretakers] tagging along filled her with dread. She spoke a silent prayer for the boy’s future, then focused back on the conversation. Marie seemed to be interested.
“—really gave up on a high-level class like that? Doesn’t missing all those skills make you feel off?”
“Hmm, it did definitely take some getting used to, but frankly—almost 40 years of cooking was quite enough for me.” Martin answered. “Sure, the Skills are gone, but I still have the actual skill I earned during that time. That has its own satisfaction.”
Marie frowned. “I guess there is some truth in that, but all the lost convenience…”
Mireille took a sip of her tea. Has she done a class change of some kind? Strange, she definitely gives off a high-level impression…
“So, you’re saying that I shouldn’t be viewing things with too much finality?” She asked.
Martin nodded. “Right. I’m not saying you should be hasty, there are many stories of people taking on the class they need just at that moment, and regretting it afterward. However, that doesn’t mean you should try to think of what you’ll be doing in 20 years at this stage. If you think you’ll be happy with your class in 2 years, you’ll usually be fine—that’s my experience.”
Marie set her cup down and signaled Fayette for another refill. “Indeed, it is a common tale: The adventurer retires after succeeding at his quest and lives on as a successful [Innkeeper]. Retirement classes are a phenomenon of their own too. I’ve heard of rich [Merchants] tiring of their craft, then putting their money to use as [Hedonists].”
Mireille shuddered. Is that what the nobility get up to once their heirs come of age? Imagine that… Mireille felt that she could never again look at a rich old person the same way she had used to. Who knew what they were getting up to?
Martin laughed. “Now that’s a proper way of things! Well, I should be getting back to my duties. It was a pleasure sharing tea with your lot.” He turned and gestured to the side with his cup. “You too, miss [Maid]!”
Mireille noted Fayette’s distinct silence as the hunter and his son sauntered off. Guess thanks like that are against some protocol of hers… Well, this should be enough.
She stood up from her stool and gave Marie a curt nod. “Be seeing you, we should be leaving in about an hour.”
“Ah, thanks! It was a pleasure talking!”
Mireille walked off and saw Fayette stiffen for a moment, after which a hint of a smile tugged at the [Maid’s] lips. A system notification? Guess this ploy of hers did pay off…
“Fay, can you hand over my work supplies from the [Bag of Holding]?”
The [Maid] jolted back to the moment. “Ah, of course, just a moment. Thanks, by the way. You really handled that well.”
“Couldn’t you have participated with me? Wouldn’t have had to leave it in my hands then.”
“No no no, absolutely not! During a tea party, it is the guest's duty to gossip, and the [Maid’s] duty to eavesdrop—I can’t go upsetting that balance!”
You’re okay with “cleaning” through murder but this is a step too far? Mireille shook her head, took her tools from Fayette, and sat down to work.
Level 13 and no ideas on where to specialize. True, she wasn’t in any dire hurry or anything, but…
She took another look at her friend and saw that Fayette was already consulting her notebook while rushing off away from the caravan. She shrugged and got to work.
She wasn’t going to catch up by standing idle.
zechamp This was the first chapter I wrote after the hiatus. New writing began with this.
Right at the break of dawn, in a peaceful roadside forest meadow, a tea party was beginning. Naturally, there was a table—a bit hastily put together and shaky, but a table nonetheless. Set around the table were half-a-dozen rickety wooden stools, somewhat lacking in elegance, but perfectly serviceable considering the circumstances. They were a modular design, allowing Fayette to disassemble and assemble them quick and easy.
If it were just that, it would hardly be a proper, elegant tea party at all, so Fayette had naturally done some additional prep work. She had gotten a neat blue tablecloth from Mireille, and set it on the table, giving a hint of civilization to the rustic setup. The steaming teapot was giving off a pleasant fragrance, and the rising sun was lighting up the whole setup just right.
It was an impressive effort on its own, but the most important part of a tea party wasn’t the setup or even the tea. No, every [Maid] knew that a tea party’s guests were the key. So, who had Fayette chosen as guests?
Naturally, the first choice had been the undercover [Lady], the so-called "miss Adrianne". Her newly freshened attire drew the eye, and the rest of the travelers were starting to clue in that the woman was no mere [Governess]. Naturally, nobody actually drew attention to the fact—matters of the nobility were not to be meddled in.
However, after the first guest had been chosen, Fayette had hit a bit of a dilemma. Where could she find other proper guests for an elegant [Lady]-level tea party in circumstances like this? After much internal struggling, she had finally relented and invited the hunter Martin, leader of the Salted Forks, as the second guest. Despite being a hunter, the man carried a certain dignity about him, perhaps due to his silvery hair, age and clean mustache.
He had brought his son Martino along, giving the tea party its third attendant. He was a rougher and more youthful version of his father, but still managed to politely sit at the table, displaying very proper etiquette.
Now, this grouping was still a bit lacking, so Fayette had needed a last touch to balance things out. Of course, a [Maid] couldn’t participate in the party herself, so she turned to her friends. The [Gutter Doctor] Olivia had come snooping as soon as the fragrant aroma of herbal tea had started wafting about, but Fayette had had certain reservations regarding her.
The [Doctor] was a direct and rough sort, and tended to smell slightly of drink and mold—not really someone tending towards elegance. Fayette had opted to distract her with an interesting mushroom she had found in the nearby forest.
So it came that the duty of overseeing the party and ensuring its success fell upon Mireille. A slightly tired and bedraggled Mireille. A Mireille who was silently cursing Fayette for thrusting this on her first thing in the still-very-early morning.
Take 4 different people who didn’t know each other too well, throw them into a tea party together and what do you get? Silence. Oh, there was a bit of small talk going on between the sips of tea, the [Lady] was making a decent effort at it, but it all tended to dwindle out like water from a leaky tub.
Fayette was hovering around the table, refilling cups whenever the need arose, and standing ready otherwise. Mireille felt the silent glare at her back and could almost hear Fayette’s internal screams. She rolled her eyes. Why do I have to do something about this atmosphere? I swear, Fay and her plots… Is this really for levels, or just for her amusement?
Mireille sighed and took another sip of the tea—it really was quite decent. She wondered how Fay had managed to get it. Now, normally an errant sigh would not draw too much notice, but to an undercover [Lady]? Such things were prime offerings.
“What’s taking up your mind?” The [Lady] asked as she set her cup down. “Far too early in the day for such pained sighs.”
Mireille started back to focus and met the woman’s concerned face. “Ah—Adri—, no you wanted to be called Marie, right?”
Marie gave a grateful smile. “Yes, if you would, please.”
Mireille nodded. “Right, well—I’ve had a lot on my mind recently, having a friend as troublesome as Fayette brings its headaches, but I suppose the real issue is…”
She closed her eyes, and went through her mind, looking through her troubled thoughts. A new career, a new path of life, following along as Fayette blazed forward on a new journey. She didn’t regret her choice to come along, but she did have some concerns.
She opened her eyes and quickly looked over her company—an undercover [Lady] and a pair of somewhat experienced hunters. Well, I guess a topic such as this should do well enough in company like this. If there’s one thing in this world that can always get people talking it's—
“—Levels.”
It wasn’t the most dramatic of confessions, but an instant understanding and sympathy passed through the company. Who could not relate to struggles over levels?
Martin brushed a finger along his mustache and gave a knowing look. “Ah—levels. Indeed, a concern I’ve held many times in my life, though not as much these days.”
Marie nodded too. “I too have spent many restless nights over leveling anxieties. What specifically ails you?”
Mireille signaled Fayette for a refill of her cup and watched the [Maid] walk off to the fire to refill her kettle. She spoke just a bit more quietly, hoping that her friend wasn’t indulging in her [Eavesdropping] tendencies.
“It is a typical concern, I suppose. I feel like I’m lagging a bit behind the rest of my team, and it’s hard to imagine what my specialization should be.”
Indeed, here she was, again witnessing a new scheme of Fayette’s—another new way to blast through levels as if they were nothing. And here I am, still a decent few levels off 15, with no idea of what uncommon specialization I could go for.
She wasn’t too worried about her leveling pace. She was getting a decent amount for the time she put in—not as many as Fay, but then again, who could? No, what truly irked her was her lack of ideas on a specialization. For the longest time, she had been aiming to eventually become a [Fashionista] or [Tailor] of some kind, but could such specializations be of use in combat? After all, she had to think of working as a hunter too, now.
Of course, she could have aimed for something combat related instead, but that led to different issues. She didn’t want to be embroiled in combat forever—her end goal was still to eventually become an independent store owner of some type. If all her skills were aimed at battle, how would she handle life after?
And then of course, there’s the matter of making sure my specialization leads to an uncommon class… I can hardly afford to have my leveling pace curtailed fourfold by a common one.
“Ah, the big fifteen is coming up, is it?” Martin said. He leaned over and ruffled his son’s hair. “Martino’s nearing it too, and I remember how it was back in the day.”
“Dad! I told you to stop doing that.”
The aged hunter chuckled, then turned back to Mireille, a sly look on his face. “I suppose I could share some titbits on my own leveling journey. Do you want to know why our party is called the salted knives?”
“Some type of special move you use?” Marie asked, looking intrigued.
“Well, sort of. I do have my signature [Salt in the Wounds] skill, but that’s something that followed after. Truth is, I was not originally a [Rogue], but rather a [Chef].”
Mireille perked up. “You’ve done a class change?”
The man winked. “Precisely! This is sort of retirement for me. Managed to become a pretty high-level chef, but then this fool here—” He once more roughed up his son’s head, “—got some ideas about adventure in his mind. Couldn’t let him run off all on his own, now could I? Thanks to the experience boost I earned, I outpaced him in levels quite fast, hah!”
The anguish visible on the young Martino’s face spoke of many, many fruitless objections, and Mireille could sympathize. True, she had never known a family of her own, but just imagining one of the orphanage's [Caretakers] tagging along filled her with dread. She spoke a silent prayer for the boy’s future, then focused back on the conversation. Marie seemed to be interested.
“—really gave up on a high-level class like that? Doesn’t missing all those skills make you feel off?”
“Hmm, it did definitely take some getting used to, but frankly—almost 40 years of cooking was quite enough for me.” Martin answered. “Sure, the Skills are gone, but I still have the actual skill I earned during that time. That has its own satisfaction.”
Marie frowned. “I guess there is some truth in that, but all the lost convenience…”
Mireille took a sip of her tea. Has she done a class change of some kind? Strange, she definitely gives off a high-level impression…
“So, you’re saying that I shouldn’t be viewing things with too much finality?” She asked.
Martin nodded. “Right. I’m not saying you should be hasty, there are many stories of people taking on the class they need just at that moment, and regretting it afterward. However, that doesn’t mean you should try to think of what you’ll be doing in 20 years at this stage. If you think you’ll be happy with your class in 2 years, you’ll usually be fine—that’s my experience.”
Marie set her cup down and signaled Fayette for another refill. “Indeed, it is a common tale: The adventurer retires after succeeding at his quest and lives on as a successful [Innkeeper]. Retirement classes are a phenomenon of their own too. I’ve heard of rich [Merchants] tiring of their craft, then putting their money to use as [Hedonists].”
Mireille shuddered. Is that what the nobility get up to once their heirs come of age? Imagine that… Mireille felt that she could never again look at a rich old person the same way she had used to. Who knew what they were getting up to?
Martin laughed. “Now that’s a proper way of things! Well, I should be getting back to my duties. It was a pleasure sharing tea with your lot.” He turned and gestured to the side with his cup. “You too, miss [Maid]!”
Mireille noted Fayette’s distinct silence as the hunter and his son sauntered off. Guess thanks like that are against some protocol of hers… Well, this should be enough.
She stood up from her stool and gave Marie a curt nod. “Be seeing you, we should be leaving in about an hour.”
“Ah, thanks! It was a pleasure talking!”
Mireille walked off and saw Fayette stiffen for a moment, after which a hint of a smile tugged at the [Maid’s] lips. A system notification? Guess this ploy of hers did pay off…
“Fay, can you hand over my work supplies from the [Bag of Holding]?”
The [Maid] jolted back to the moment. “Ah, of course, just a moment. Thanks, by the way. You really handled that well.”
“Couldn’t you have participated with me? Wouldn’t have had to leave it in my hands then.”
“No no no, absolutely not! During a tea party, it is the guest's duty to gossip, and the [Maid’s] duty to eavesdrop—I can’t go upsetting that balance!”
You’re okay with “cleaning” through murder but this is a step too far? Mireille shook her head, took her tools from Fayette, and sat down to work.
Level 13 and no ideas on where to specialize. True, she wasn’t in any dire hurry or anything, but…
She took another look at her friend and saw that Fayette was already consulting her notebook while rushing off away from the caravan. She shrugged and got to work.
She wasn’t going to catch up by standing idle.
zechamp This was the first chapter I wrote after the hiatus. New writing began with this.
