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PW Chapter 33: Saying Goodbyes
🕑 Added 2025-06-09 05:08:09 +0000 UTCA/N: so I lied, haha. Had an impromptu grandparent meeting that cut into writing time. No regrets. Just delays. No more promises until I can be more consistent though haha
Astrid woke in her bed, still wearing the clothes she’d worn to the celebration and her head pounding. The last time she’d gotten even remotely drunk like this, she hadn’t had the benefit of a long sleep with Quick Recovery working off the worst of the hangover. Even before she tried to open her eyes or sit up, she activated her Skill and gloried in the slight recovery that washed through her. Still, as she opened her eyes, the sun’s light burned, and she squinted through the window.
It was almost lunchtime. She groaned and rolled out of bed, untying her braid so she could just pull the entirety of her hair into a messy tail. Then, after changing her clothing as quickly as she could manage without making herself dizzy, she walked down the stairs into the inn’s main room. There, Stark stood behind the bar as always, his face largely impassive. He pulled two tankards out from under the counter as she walked up and Astrid felt her face go pale, or as pale as it could.
“No, I’m good without that.” She waved a hand.
“It’s water. Drink. It’ll help.” Stark held them up and Astrid nodded in thanks as she nursed the first water.
“Anything from last night I should remember specifically?” She asked, almost too nervous to ask at all.
“Just that you promised you’d kill every monster that ever threatened your friends who were here. ‘Everyone except for that prig and the weak-willed woman’. You emphasized that several times.”
“Considering that’s just saying what I already said,” Astrid mused, “I’ll consider that to be a victory. Less polite than I’d want, but…”
As Astrid trailed off, Stark shrugged as well before gesturing with a nod at Grom’s office. Astrid nodded, knowing that the last conversation she’d have with him as a delver under his management was coming before the end.
“Have something ready for me?” She asked with a quirk of a smile.
“Of course.” Stark smiled. He said nothing more, and Astrid strode up to Grom’s door. Knocking twice, he called out, “Come in, Astrid.”
When she entered, Grom sat behind his desk, three different papers placed before him. Astrid stepped forward, and though she made to sit down, Grom spoke.
“First, grab these three papers. They’re the best options available to you right now for your next destination.”
Astrid grabbed the three papers as Grom settled into his chair to present the options. She thumbed through the sheets of paper as Grom explained.
“That paper on top is for Stommur and their Dungeon entrance is just a Dungeon offshoot, like here. Four days’ travel to get there, almost straight south. No access to the Dungeon as a whole, and has 7 floors. There’s three monster varieties there, ranging from level 4 to 12, being goblins, wargs, and orcs. You can think of it as a continuation of this offshoot, just more difficult. The wargs serve as skirmishers, the goblins in support and ranged damage, and the orcs as frontliners and finishers. They don’t work too well together, but it is a good opportunity for parties to learn how to better compose their own ranks. There’s actually three separate entrances to this offshoot, and the Guild’s got good infrastructure there with a full town almost as big as your hometown there.
“Next is just known as the green caves, two days travel almost due east. All goblins in there, cramped in caves where the beasts fall in all around you until every single one of them is dead. They range from level 6 to 10, including the Boss on the fifth level. The main danger there is that they use a lot of afflictions. Minor poisons, plenty of irritants, and they’re sneaky bastards. There’s no two ways around it. Everyone hates dealing with them, and that’s the eventual appeal. They absolutely are the worst to deal with, but their bodies and materials are genuinely valuable as alchemical reagents. Delvers looking to make money faster go there, and they usually do. It’s pretty dangerous, though, and the work is… thankless, to say the least.
“Last option is to push north, go to Kznietch. They’ve got gnolls. They’re—”
“The Dungeon entrance I’d planned on going to with my party after this entrance.” Astrid chuckled. “I know about them. Two varieties of lesser gnolls, rangers and brawlers. Deeper levels have shamans. Level 6-11, five floors, and has a minor entrance to the Dungeon proper. Two entrances, so it’s got broad floors. A middle ground of the other two, with variety and not as frustrating as the green caves, but more profitable than the Stommur entrance, since it’s so full of so many delvers. It’s probably also the best option for me, because so many forgotten or partyless delvers end up there.”
“Yes.” Grom chuckled. “I suspected that you might have known about Kznitetch. And, this time, I agree with your choice. It’s a good place for you, only a couple days’ journey from here, and there’s good support there. I know their reps, one’s newer, but seems solid while the other… I know her well. She’s a bit of a tough bird, but she’s good. I’ll send a letter of recommendation forward for you, if you’d like.”
Astrid agreed, but she had to ask. “Is it ok if you say that I’ll get there a day later than would be possible?”
“I figured you’d want to visit home.” Grom smiled. “Of course I can ensure that they’re not expecting you so early you’ll have to choose between having a meal with your parents and being where I said you would.”
“Thanks, Grom.” Astrid stood, smiling around the pit of anxiety that bubbled inside her belly now. She’d expected that discomfort, but still it threatened to sap away her excitement. He stepped around the desk and extended a hand for a shake.
“I’ll take a hug, if you’ve got any.” Astrid forced a smile.
“For Tobias? Never. For you? Sure!” Grom extended his arms and took her into a tight hug. After patting her back twice, he chuckled and pulled back.
“I’m looking forward to hearing all you do, Astrid Warrior. What a privilege it’s been to help you out in this first step of the road. Just know… We’ll be listening!”
“Thanks.” Astrid felt a tear prick at her eye. Despite everything, Grom was a friend and a mentor, and she was grateful for him. As she walked out, Grom called out.
“Now that you’ve got all those fancy levels, I bet you could run all the way to Stalstadt in just a couple hours. Have an early lunch and say your goodbyes and still get all the way to your parents for dinner. If you want to.”
Suddenly, there was little that Astrid wanted more than to go home and see her mom and dad. She smiled, and rushed out of the tavern.
***
Grom
He heard the girl run out of the tavern, her steps pounding down the street towards the town proper. Long before the sound of her boots crunching on the ground faded, Stark slipped into his office.
“She decided on Kznietch.” Grom said as he pulled a smaller flask of his good stuff from the drawer. What they gave to Astrid last night had been laced with just a touch of one of these Iron tier alcohols, just enough to ensure she’d be able to get buzzed before her stomach stuck out a full meter. She hadn’t taken the time to realize that her Fortitude was so much higher than she’d ever expected, and she’d enjoyed the ale during Lariche’s party’s celebration. Stark took the whiskey and threw back a shot while Grom followed. Real smooth, but it was still enough to get a physically focused delver a little buzzed with a sip. They’d have to tell her that, the next time she wanted some easy liquid courage, the cost would be measured in silvers instead of coppers.
“I said she would.” Stark said as he flopped theatrically into a chair.
“And I agreed.” Grom replied as he wrote out the glowing recommendation letter for her. “I don’t know why you’re taking some measure of pride in this.”
“Because I was right first.”
Grom waved one hand at his old friend as he continued writing his letter. The delvers around here never saw this side of Stark, the petty, the vindictive. The side that’d slipped laxatives into Tobias’s food for the past year. The side that’d wept over the ash of the pyres they’d burned for every fallen delver. They just saw a man happy to prepare food and offer a listening ear whenever they wanted it. And Stark was all that, happy to be that.
“Sure. You gonna do your usual to keep an eye out over there after she leaves?”
“Yeah. Duchess only knows how she’ll manage to muck up her future if she runs in there doing that same sorry excuse for kissing up and making nice again.” Stark shook his head.
“And we know why that’s a problem because?” Grom asked, summoning his shield into existence to protect him from the pebble that flew at him as he snarked at his friend.
“Yes, I have experience.” Stark said as Grom lowered the shield. According to their rules, Grom’d won this fight, and they were on truce for 24 hours. The grape that followed the pebble was unfair, but Grom had expected something like it, as he flared his Shield’s Edge Skill and made the purple light keep the grape from exploding on his head.
“And because I have experience,” Stark continued as if nothing had happened, “I know what pitfalls to look out for. I’ll leave and be back here in a week. Make sure she gets at least two people worth their Classes to delve with.”
“Yes yes.” Grom agreed, waving his hand. “I trust your judgment.”
“Alright. I trust you have plans for someone to make dinner?”
Stark glared. “I can make stew. It’s fine.”
“And you call me an Assassin.”
***
Though teary, Astrid’s goodbyes with her friends here in the Schteld were short. They’d known it was coming, that her time here was limited.
“Thank you. For being here. For helping.” Guinevere said as she hugged the much taller woman. “I hope to see you again.”
“I’ll be relatively close.” Astrid nodded. “I’m… gonna keep busy, but I can make sure that I see you sometimes.”
“Sure.” Moira drawled. “If you wanna keep lining my pockets, come on back. I’ve enjoyed the experience you’ve given me.”
“Course, Moira. Who else wil pretend she’s bleeding me dry while giving me massive discounts?”
“Probably nobody.” The corner of Moira’s mouth quirked in a smile as she gave a firm hug to Astrid. “So make sure you come show off whatever fancy things you end up finding. I’ll be looking forward to the stories.”
“Sure.” Astrid said as she stepped back. “Thank you both, again. You make me survive through this all alone. I’ll be seeing you.”
They all waved as she went to collect her things and Astrid couldn’t help but think that it’d been almost five months since she’d seen her parents. How long could it be before she had any opportunity to come back here and speak with them? Could she even prioritize them?
The reality of the live that she’d chosen for herself, that she’d hoped for for most of her live, settled into her. Constantly moving, sorting out problems, and never settling anywhere long enough to have lasting relationships with anyone outside of the party. Could she survive this way in the long term?
Again, she was reminded of how important it was for her to get her party together as she moved forward. This next destination, she’d have two goals beyond merely getting experience and some money.
First she’d need to gain at least one long-term party member. There was no telling what of the other four positions it would be, who they would be, or anything. But she needed to build up this base of people who would work with her. She couldn’t be guaranteed to find someone willing to delve with her, but she’d do her damndest to try. If she couldn’t find someone who would stick with her in the long term… well, maybe that would just be a testament to their inability to see her potential? Because, her second goal went further than that.
Second: no violence. You know, not towards other people. If someone called her a Barbarian, she’d keep her cool, not let her adrenaline get to her. His general being a priggishness aside, Tobias shouldn’t have been able to drive her to snap the way that she did. Astrid knew she’d always had an angry streak, but it’s never been as ugly as she’d seen it here. If she’d just brought her issues up to Grom after they left the Dungeon, she would have gotten out of that scot free. So, don’t be stupid!
She found herself repeating the two goals to herself as she suited herself up in her armor. Before long, her shield was strapped to her back, her hammer fastened into its place on her hip, and her staff, long since forgotten in her room, was in hand. Astrid walked slowly through the room, looking at each corner of the room that she’d largely never paid attention to. There wasn’t anything to see, if she was honest, but she still took in the sight. Then, taking a deep breath, she turned and walked down the stairs.
The inn she’d started to take for granted, the forest that surrounded it, the chairs and tables with heavy signs of wear… all of it had been her home as she’d begun this journey. She was happy and excited to leave it behind her, but… she’d miss parts of it. And that was something she didn’t mind.
“You ready?” Stark asked, holding a thick pair of sandwiches out for her as she paused at the bottom of the stairs.
“Yeah.” She smiled as she pulled a couple coppers out of her pocket and tossed them to Stark. He chuckled, then, for the first time since the surge, he showed some of his strength as he blurred in place, the coins disappeared, and he was standing in front of her.
“Good luck. Have a good time with your family.” He smiled and extended a hand. Astrid took it and shook it firmly before a question occurred to her.
“You don’t mind hugging a woman in armor?”
He laughed aloud and just hugged her in response. “Happy to see you so excited and ready for the next step. Glad you got through that forsaken surge. You’re gonna be great.”
Then, he blurred again and was back behind the counter, where he winked once and gestured for her to go on her way. She did, her steps sounding particularly loud in her ears as she pushed through the doors and walked out into the sun.
***
An hour into her journey, Astrid stopped stepping as if she expected to be ambushed every dozen feet or so. Maybe that was a holdover from so much time in the Dungeon, maybe it was something else entirely. Maybe it was because the last time she made this journey, she’d been left to die by a certain bastard named Mariusz. Who could say for sure.
Whatever the case was, though, as she jogged easily on the road, her backpack cinched tightly to her hips to take the worst of the load off, the kilometers were eaten up surprisingly quickly. For the first time, she could truly appreciate Steady Load, for the Alacrity it granted, and for the extra bonus she got for carrying the backpack. 7.5 Alacrity added, nearly three level’s worth of growth, though she had no idea how the Great One calculated halves that way, since it didn’t appear on her Status.
She ate her sandwich, the pounding of her feet on the packed earth making a mind-numbing chorus with her heavy breathing. Even so, she didn’t find herself minding the constant movement, the clarity it brought her. Each movement brought her closer to home, to the reunion with her parents she was so desperately hoping for. A dozen questions required answering, and only they could give them. More than that, though, Astrid needed to tell her stories, to hear her mother’s advice, her father’s comforting words, and the sweet love that existed in the family.
Then, she could speak with Ahna, now that enough time had passed for her to get some clarity of mind, for her to speak openly with her oldest friend and honestly speak about how she hoped for Ahna’s enjoyment of the life that came for her. Then there was Jan, who’d need a talking to if he wasn’t treating Ahna right. He would be, of course, but it was an old joke that needed to be rehashed frequently enough for the involved parties to always remember.
The others… there wasn’t anyone that needed to be visited. Liesl and Borus were off, and Astrid didn’t want to talk to them anyways. Instead, she could continue on her way, past this wagon—
That was strange. It was too early for harvests to be brought into town, but this was heavily laden with mostly ripe wheat, from what she could see. As Astrid poked her head around the front, she vaguely recognized the man in front of her. As she couldn’t immediately place the familiarity, though, she simply asked, “Why’s there a harvest happening right now? Isn’t it early?”
“You haven’t been around, have you?” He replied with a surprised tone. “It’s the southern border. There’s some movement there, and there’s talk about drafting old soldiers. The Viscount has asked that harvest be brought in early for some tax benefits. Need to feed the soldiers as they drill back into top shape, you know?’
Astrid’s heart dropped. There was a soldier she knew and loved that would be called back to the southern border after decades of rest.
Her mother.
Astrid started sprinting.
