[Celestial Arms Quest 1-5] Search for a Pebble of Philosophy

[Fletcher]

The Isle of Thule, according to some of the fishermen at the mouth of the Thames River was an island that could sometimes be seen off to the east of where the mouth of the river meets the ocean. It was difficult to get to for a couple of reasons, but the main one was the fog that covered the island, making the approach the main difficulty in actually reaching the island. There were some fishermen that had fished in those waters before, so if he wanted to head on over, it was suggested that the dwarf seek out the fishermen that fished by the rocky outcrop further down the coast. Fletcher wandered over, having trekked all the way from Londinium nonstop in order to get the Messier Sage’s request sorted sooner rather than later. To be fair, his ‘request’ was more of a command, but at least it seemed easy enough to do at the time he had agreed to himself to see it through.

Getting onto the island itself was going to be only as problematic as getting someone to agree to ferry him out there. Money was going to be the only thing he was willing to offer to any potential boatman as anything beyond that would not only be a hassle, but potentially out of scope for what he was trying to do. If it was a chain of pointless errands, then he wouldn’t be bothering continuing this quest, as if it came to that, he had better things he could be doing with his time. For the time being though, what he had in hopes for the grand finale of this chore was some kind of item to help him later on down the track, as getting quest rewards as of late had been next to non-existent.

Finding someone willing to give him a hand over to the island was easier than the fishermen up river had implied. As Fletcher got to the rocky crop where multiple lines were cast into the great blue yonder, he called up to the fishermen tending to them. ”Hey there! Any of you lot planning on heading out to Thule today?” They all looked down, but only a couple returned to their lines immediately after. There was a showing of hands before Fletcher looked among those that had said they were. ”Who’s heading out next, and can I catch a rider to the island if it’s no trouble?” The fishermen exchanged some looked and spoke in hushed tones, or at least Fletcher couldn’t hear from the distance between him and them up on the cliff. One of them clambered down and approached Fletcher; he wore a tan apron over a navy tunic, straw hat worn to keep the sun off his face. It was a gentleman, human, that was about his age or so he figured based on how wrinkled the face was.

“We could head out to the island now if you were ready. It’s been a bit of a slow day here so a change of pace might be good for me anyway.” Fletcher nodded and the fisherman wandered over to a yacht, motioning for the dwarf to follow. “I’ll get you to the island, but you’re finding your own way back, approaching the island is hard enough as it is, and having ideal conditions to do so now is rare.” It wasn’t ideal, but Fletcher could always return to Londinium through his Call to Home spell. He would hope that he was going to be able to get something to show for his effort in this trip, for if he failed, who knew when he’d be able to return do to the nature of their approach.

[Fletcher]

"So what takes an adventurer out to Thule this time?" it was clear by that question alone that Fletcher's choufeur was a Person of the Land. Not that it was hard to pick, nor was it any problem for the dwarf, but the man made little effort to try and hide meekly in the shadow of the gods. Adventurers were immortal, or rather abided by a strict system of ressurection while the People of the Land didn't get such a luxury. It was this luxury that made adventurers careless and People of the Land less inclined to stick their neck out for the random traveller coming by. "Remember, I'm only taking you one way. No offense, but I'm not quite ready to die trying the complete journey twice in one day."

Fletcher nodded, understanding. He was completely aware of the supposed danger that awaited him on the island, but he had no idea as to just how dangerous it was. The Call to Home spell was going to be his absolute last resort given the difficulty in securing a passage there in the first place. "Someone from town wanted the place checked out for some kind of research thing. Not too sure what I'm looking for but I said I'd check anyway." This time the fisherman had nodded, neither of them having introduced themselves to the other and sharing an understanding only middle aged men could.

They were sailing at a decent pace as far as Fletcher could tell. It was his first time on the ocean like this, so he was uncertain if the waves were going to disagree with him. He didn't have motion sickness when he went on his moneymoon, but that was a long time and another body ago; adventurer stats might've offset any sickness he may have gotten from the waves if he was prone to it. "Oh yeah? Few people that have been said there's a building on the island. Most go just for the fishing spots if they're working on catching the big ones. Crustaetians are also plentiful there." Did he mean like lobster and crab? Fletcher had some regret in being an Alchemist, for being a Chef right now would've let him indulge in premium seafood, although he'd need to catch it first. In order to catch it he'd need to be a Fisherman, and then in being that he couldn't make fantastic and whimsical inventions that ran on magic. He made the mental note to create some kind off magical fishingrod when he made it back to town and watched as they drew nearer to the island.

The Isle of Thule was a clear problem to approach if there was any cloud cover or fog; as the boat carefully approached the shore, Fletcher could see the jagged rocks and fast running currents that surrounded the ocean, making their approach path somewhat curvy and spiralled as opposed to a clean, straight run. The boat pulled up close to the shore and drifted along the coast until it came to rest alongside a very worn and worm eaten pier. "Last stop, Isle of Thule." Fletcher disembarked gingerly, testing the pier before putting his full weight upon it. "Hope you find what you're looking for."

"Thanks again for the lift." The pair exchanged salutes before the fisherman pulled away, leaving Fletcher by his lonesome on the island.

Word Count: 563

[Fletcher]

If Fletcher thought the Windsor Greatwood was overgrown, he was sorely mistaken by what was laid out before him. Taking a few carefully placed steps on the pier to reach land, he looked around. Before him stressed an untamed wilderness with everything holding a fresh dewy appearance from the amount of water in this place. Streams and waterfalls gushed into the sea from varying heights, and the ocean spray seemed to be the cause of the amount of plant growth around the place. He'd have thought the salt from the seawater was going to inhibit the growth of plans near the water's edge, but it seemed that a lot of what he saw seemed to be plants he'd seen in aquariums, under water.

That's what seemed off about this place now that he had a frame of reference in which to analyse everything. This whole place had the appearance of being under water, and from how wet he was getting already it seemed to be at least partially literal in truth. The dwarf scrambled up off the beach and into the treeline, hoping to shield himself from more ocean spray. Breaking through the rubbery leaves of a bush, he pushed through onto what looked like a long since walked path, paved in bluestone but now covered in places with very healthy looking moss. The path trailed downwards and back towards the pier and further beyond; upwards it stretched further into the island and around the corner. From where Fletcher stood, the island was home to a few ruins, with some of the more intact ones further up on the plateau above him. It made sense that being further away from the ocean meant there was less water to erode things away, but the wind would undoubtedly be stronger up there.

Fletcher took to the left and headed further into the island, the path winding up and into a cave in the side of the mountain. The sound of water flowing echoed around him as he entered the cave. It was poorly lit, but that was fixed somewhat by Fletcher pulling out his Mana Powered Flashlight, shining it around him after feeding it a Mana Fragment to get it going. The walls of the cave were also wet, and he was starting to wonder if anything in this place was dry. The path continued on, taking him further away from the ocean and deeper into the plateau he was looking up at from the outside. The light in his flashlight was fading already only after a couple of minutes and just in time to highlight the exist when it finally went out. A far way in the distance shone a light filtering in from a break in the wall large enough for passage through. Picking up the pace, even in the darkness, Fletcher pressed on and existed the cave.

What awaited Fletcher was a large clearing bored into the middle of the plateau, the elevated grounds creating a wall around the ruins sitting in its center. It was clear that this place used to be built up with structures and columns, but age and the ocean seemed to be a cruel mistress given its current state. Fletcher wandered down the path leading to the ruins, and as he approached noticed a large pool in the very center of the crater in which he was standing. It was still, and looked like a circular pane of glass that stretched for about fifty meters. The dwarf approached the pool and looked down into the depths, noticing something glinting at the very bottom of the pool. He hadn't seen any lobsters yet, which was a little bit of a downer after the fisherman spruked up the place for being a crustaecean hotspot.

"Master?" Carbuncle had appeared out of nowhere, which was a cause for concern given the dwarf hadn't called for it. Fletcher looked at the fox carefully, wondering what was going on but the fox continued, unphased at Fletcher's judging gaze as it continued fixated at the middle of the pool. "It calls to us, the Pebble of Philosophy. We remember it..." Fletcher looked at the fox and then back into the pool, peering down at the glinting stone resting at the bottom of the pool. "That is what the sage is after, Master." Carbuncle said nothing else and walked into the pool, head sinking under the water's surface. The dwarf scrambled to get the fox but found that the fox was continuing its strides along the lakebed, showing no issue of needing to breathe or showing any signs of being effected by the water. Now Fletcher knew that as a spirit, Carbuncle had different rules than he did, but even this was odd. Carbuncle turned back and motioned for Fletcher to follow, and the dwarf took a deep breathe before sticking his head under the water. As his face broke the surface of the water he gasped, and rather than inhale water, it was just air. He panicked, thinking he was drowning but found that he was perfectly fine.

Carbuncle, seeing that Fletcher was good to go on, continued towards the pebble at the bottom of the pool with its Summoner close behind. The pebble sat at the bottom of the lake on a small mound of other rocks looking similar, but none of which glinting in the same way. Carbuncle stopped short and looked up to Fletcher, saying nothing. "What did you say this was? The Pebble of-" Before the dwarf could speak that last word, he had grabbed the stone, the words catching in his throat as a sudden rush of memories washed over him.

Word Count 945

[Fletcher]

As soon as Fletcher picked up the pebble, his mind no longer felt his own. Memories and visions flashed past his consciousness in a blur. He could see through his own eyes beasts that he had never seen before referring to him as master, meeting with people he had already met and they greeted him with reverence. But there was something off about it. How could he have these memories if he had only been trapped within the Unfounded Kingdom since its launch? From the looks of these memories, and how some of the places looked in his mind's eye, these would've had to have been from a millenia ago to make any sense. Granted, making sense at all would help as Fletcher fell to his knees, clutching the pebble tightly as his breath started to grow heavy. "Master...?"

Fletcher remembered. He wasn't sure how, or why, but he remembered things that he knew he had never learnt. He remembered the pacts he had made with creatures with whom he had yet to meet on his journey. The dwarf straightened up and flexed his fingers, power coursing through his fingertips as an embodiment of what the summoning arts could accomplish. Newfound power coming with responsibility was apparently more akin to being confused as all hell and being rocketed to level ninety. While Fletcher confirmed this and found he had in fact gained over fifty levels in one fell swoop, a low rumbling could be heard nearby,

Carbuncle seemed to panic and made for the surface of the lake while Fletcher looked around some more. The mound of pebbles in which he plucked the Pebble of Philosophy from shook violently before bursting apart, rocky debris slowly falling due to the water in which they were submerged. From where the mound was, was instead a clawed appendage. Talons he'd seen, claws he'd seen, but this kind of claw was that of a crab. A crab that was going to be at least double his size if Fletcher remembered anything about the seafood he'd eaten once upon a time. "Give..." Another claw burst out from the lakebed nearby, bracing on the ground to anchor something else being pulled up from underneath. "Give back...!" Another shower of dirt and rubble as before him stood a crab-like colossus, arms flailing wildly as it woke up fully, and eyed off the person that had taken the pebble from its resting place. "Give back the Pebble of Philosophy!" It spoke in a rattled voice, raspy and distorted from the water.

[Fletcher]

Fletcher looked upon the beast that had pulled itself from the depths of the lake and met its violet gaze. There was a brief silence as the water around them hung in silence, Fletcher’s heart still pounding from the sudden onset of memories and then the appearance of what could be only described as a monster. The monster looked to the stone in Fletcher’s hand and bellowed, sending ripples through the water and causing Fletcher to lose his balance. The crab monster was labelled as M1: Brachyura, but that’s all Fletcher was able to notice before he noticed the claw coming for him in a large sweeping arc. He wouldn’t be able to move fast enough, the water and his size just wouldn’t allow it. The dwarf braced for impact but it never came, instead was the sensation of being thrust backwards.

”Master. Fall back, we’ll take it from here.” It was a woman, or rather a feminine voice speaking to him. He opened his eyes and saw what he could only describe as a mermaid, clutching a trident, hair and clothing flowing like the finest silk woven with water. He had the claw parried with her weapon, struggling against the attack despite how calmly she had relayed what she intended to do. While the term ‘we’ implied more than just the one, but he couldn’t see any other Followers. Undine parried the attack back and thrust Fletcher back with a torrent of water. The next attack came in and knocked Undine aside, Brachyura making a mad dash for Fletcher. Realising his impending danger, Fletcher made a break for the water’s surface and broke through, stepping through and only just noticing the rate at which his MP was draining.

”Master!” It was Sylph, although different from when he had called upon her last. She seemed stronger, more elegant, and her clothes were closer to Titania’s in elaborateness and quality. She fluttered over and picked up the dwarf from the water’s edge, bringing him as far as she could before Brachyura broke through and emerged onto land. ”The Pebble of Philosophy is all that matters, we need to keep you safe from Brachyura!” Brachyura chittered and continued its relentless charge towards the pair. Sylph gave a grave look to her summoner and put herself between the two, starting to fire bolts of wind element magic at the beast to cover Fletcher’s escape. The dwarf made to run, wondering what was so important about a geode.

He heard Sylph cry out in pain, and Fletcher’s MP drain at stopped. What Followers he did have out were now gone, although what had summoned them in the first place was a mystery. He could hear Brachyura coming up behind him, the ground shaking and causing the walls of the crater to fall. As the rocks fell down from above, the exit into the cave became blocked off, forcing Fletcher to confront the beast after the crystal. He turned, hand already moving of its own accord and words falling from his mouth in a confused and worried tone, watching the impending impact coming for him. ”Fires born of a promise unbroken, unbridled even in death: Summon Follower – Phoenix!” Crimson flames erupted from the space around Fletcher and a cry echoed from the heavens. From upon high a bird with radiant feathers swooped down and swept Fletcher away from Brachyura’s attack, dropping him down back near the water’s edge.

It possibly wasn’t the wisest thing to do given this thing was more than likely strong against any form of fire elemental magic, but Fletcher’s choice in summon came from a flinch reaction given by the Pebble of Philosophy. There was another pause as Brachyura turned to face where the stone now was and let out a frustrated cry. If Fletcher could not be rid of this thing until either one of them were dead, then he was going to make sure that he would put up a fight.

Word Count: 662

[Fletcher]

With another rattled roar, Brachyura bellowed into the sky, magic contorting in the space around it as it cast a spell. The water behind the dwarf and his blazing bird shifted from being a sheet of glass in appearance to that of a pot of water boiling over. Bubbles popped and reformed on the surface before rising up in a torrent and crashing down on the summoner and follower duo. Of the two of them, it seemed that Phoenix had taken more damage, although that was hardly a surprise given that it was more than likely weak to water based attacks. Immediately following, Brachyura charged down towards them, all four claws outstretched and poised to do some serious damage.

After recovering from the torrent, Phoenix looked to its Summoner and took to the skies once more before swooping down into Brachyura to intercept. Fletcher was baffled at why these creatures not only knew him, but how they sprang into action without any need to give direct commands. It had to be the Pebble of Philosophy doing this, although he wasn’t sure what role it played in the grand scheme of things. This all started out as some elaborate errand for a sage in town, now he found himself at level ninety with an army of beasts that seemed to share a consciousness with him. It was a nice feeling although it felt cheap, artificial, lacking in the satisfaction of having needed to work for such strength. Something was prodding in the back of his mind as Phoenix crashed into the giant crab. His hand twitched and he snapped his fingers, another lick of flame coming from the point of ignition. ”Brilliance that is a kiln’s child: Summon Follower- Salamander!” From the ether sprang forth a winged reptile, big enough for Fletcher to ride on if he absolutely needed to. The reason that it wasn’t the first and foremost thing he thought of were the flames seemingly radiating from its body.

”Master! I’m glad you called. Let’s put this thing back in the ground!” Another vision flashed past Fletcher’s eyes as he stared up at the dragon wide eyed. He’d met Salamander on the frontier of Sarum, far from home and looking for a new master to serve. Or did he? He hadn’t been to that part of the frontier, nor had he come across this dragon before. He could probably find that spot again if he tried hard enough, although that would need to wait until they were done here. As Salamander charged in, tagging out for Phoenix to recover, Fletcher held his arms out and forward, cupping the space before him with his hands. Every time either Salamander spat fire out at the crab, or Phoenix dazzled its feathers and rained down healing embers on itself and its draconic ally, small baubles of fire energy gathered around his hands.

Word Count: 480

[Fletcher]

The two beasts of fire assaulted the crab with blasts of fire, claws, and talons alike. As each attack came in, another bauble of fire energy gathered around him as he concentrated on the pretend chalice he was holding onto. It was getting warmer, not just the imaginary object but air around him. Tendrils of steam started rising from the wet ground. He was getting used to holding this power, almost as if it were second nature. It was just as likely that he was being used by a puppeteer, but so far he was living and not being mauled by a mutant crab. He couldn’t shake the familiarity of these beasts he was calling on, if only he could remember more. If only he could remember what each of them were like so he could at least consciously go through his actions rather than react based on instinct. Phoenix was a nice Follower to have, as it had already proven to be a swift escape route if the situation required it. Salamander seemed like a go-getter, and from what he could remember of their meeting had a lingering sadness and thankfulness to him for saving it from something.

But it still felt odd. It felt artificial rather than a legitimate pact that he had made. They all called him ‘master’ as well, as opposed to anything else. So far Carbuncle had called him that ever since gaining the ability to talk to beasts, but Sylph hadn’t dignified him with any such moniker as of yet. They got off on the wrong foot, so why was she obedient now? Was it his level ninety stature? The thought made his stomach churn a little bit, making the beasts he was using more like slaves rather than partners if they became subjugated just from their Summoner’s level alone. ”Master! We can’t hold him off much longer! You need to summon something else!” The dragon was badly injured and its tone was shaken with distress. Phoenix said nothing and remained stoic, although the damage done to its plumage spoke volumes as to its current condition.

As Salamander cried out, Fletcher found himself enter a fever pitch, his magical prowess hitting a climax with the elemental forces brewed up by his compatriots. Moving his arms away from the spot they had rested in for the past few seconds, drawing back his hand and calling back Phoenix and Salamander, dismissing them from the battlefield. Brachyura let down its guard only briefly, but that was all he needed. With a thunderous cry he let the magic torrent out in a wave of crimson fury, flames swathing the ground as his spell became magnified from the efforts of his Summons. ”Elemental Bolt!” The normal bolt of energy he was used to was more like a large comet homing in on Brachyura, colliding and exploding with tremendous force. Embers rained down from the sky after the impact had cleared, a visible crack forming in the carapace of the crab before him. It was getting weaker, but it was not looking like it was going to make any effort to slow down any time soon.

”Master.” That voice. He knew that voice and he knew it well. It was different though, composed, reserved, and gentle. The sense of naivety he was used to hearing was gone from the tone completely, and turned to see Carbuncle next to him. While this would normally be welcomed, Carbuncle was no longer the cute, small-sized fox that he was used to. Instead, Carbuncle was much larger, seemed a lot older, and had streaks of red tinged fur running down its back in a similar way that Amaterasu had tips in its own fur. Carbuncle looked down to the dwarf, blank expression and spoke again. ”You should be more careful. Allow me to ease your suffering.” A light washed over Fletcher and his MP was brought back up along with his HP. It was a lot more potent than he remembered, but Phantasmal Heal was always useful in a pinch when it came to depleting MP reserves. Brachyura was doing something else though. While Fletcher was awaiting another charge, the boss monster had something else in mind.

Word Count: 703

[Fletcher]

A low rumble shook the very ground that they were standing on. Carbuncle’s fur stood on edge, hears perked right up listening for something with a frown. It had heard this sound before and was trying to place it, half unsure and half unwilling to face the reality of what was happening again many years again. Looking at the summoner, it was clear the dwarf had no idea what was going on, but was managing to stay upright, so at least that much was taken care of. Brachyura by this stage was hunched over, shaking as the atmosphere around it seemed to pulse with energy, magic coursing underneath its carapace making it glow ominously against an otherwise bleak battlefield. It then hit Carbuncle, knowing exactly what was going to happen next. It spoke quietly in oddspeak, Fletcher managing to catch what it had uttered but only just. ”Crab Nebula…”

Before Fletcher could even ask, he noticed it. Around the rim of the crater in which tey had been fighting was the ocean itself, rising. Brachyura had its attention focused on making this happen that if Fletcher really wanted to, he could possibly get a few good hits in, but that looming wall of water made him go closer to panicking instead. There was nowhere to run, and with the rate that the water was rising, there was no way that Phoenix could lift him out of harm’s way in time. He looked to Carbuncle to ask what to do but saw the fox struggling with what to do, traumatised with an event long past but still etched fresh in its mind. Fletcher stuck out a hand and touched the flank of the fox standing next to him, rousing it back to attention. It looked down at Fletcher with a grave expression before snarling at Brachyura, lowering its front and its fur once again standing on edge, the red tips glinting. ”Vile creature, go back whence you came! You shall not harm Lord Syllabus any longer!” As Carbuncle said this, Fletcher had a snap vision where all the Followers he had called out thus far had said in succession the words ‘Lord Syllabus’ while looking right at him.

That’s when Carbuncle grabbed Fletcher by the collar with its teeth and threw him back into the pool of Ultima Thule, the rising tide lingering for moments more above the surface of the water before it all came crashing down. The water impacted on the surface of the pool, and presumably everything else in the crater, the impact causing a shockwave that rattled the dwarf and sent him further underwater. Carbuncle however did not show again and the MP drain disappearing meant only one thing for whether or not the fox survived the attack. As the current drifted him back he couldn’t help but wonder what had happened in those moments. Who was this Syllabus guy? He was, and always had been known as Fletcher. He came to a stop just shy of the spot where he had picked up the Pebble of Philosophy, the crystal still clutched in his hand. Brachyura hissed again, having dived back into the pool to reclaim what was his and Fletcher could only bring himself to respond in one way.

Word Count: 543

[Fletcher]

Brachyura snapped its claws at Fletcher, now alone with no Followers to aid him. He had a whip, but that wasn’t going to be so good underwater. In addition to this, his raw damage output both physical and magical was castrated without a Follower to help him, but it seemed he was lacking options. Undine had fallen protecting Fletcher from the first assault and seeing him to safety. Sylph had also assisted in this, but fell covering his eventual unsuccessful escape from the bowl in which this whole thing was happening. He could call upon Phoenix and Salamander again, although fighting underwater was a death sentence for either of them. And then Carbuncle. What had happened just moments before broke his heart, knowing that it was willing to put him first and foremost for survival. But that in itself was what spurred Fletcher to take action, what gave him the motivation to fight. He was not going to lay down and die like he had done years ago in the real world. Here it came down to what a man could do, and what a man couldn’t do; he was sure as hell going to do what needed to be done.

”Even in death, thy blade still reigns: Summon Follower – Dullahan!” Fletcher clutched the crystal in his hand tight as he called out to the spirits, to anyone that was listening, hoping for just one last hand to reach out to him and lend him aid. Brachyura started to close in, claws and jowls gnashing as it got ever closer to striking the final decisive blow against the dwarf. Then there it was, the clash of steel against bone, a pained shriek, and the low groan of a breathless voice coming to the rescue. Fletcher opened his eyes and saw what he knew to be the headless horseman, steel drawn and astride a ghastly mount. Being headless, the requirement to breathe was not even a consideration, unfazed by the ‘water’ in which this showdown was taking place. Dullahan reared up and delivered another strike to a crack forming in the crab’s chitin armour, making said crack larger and evoking another shriek of pain from the crab. Fletcher saw his chance, knowing that he had to push hard to get the most out of his remaining MP reserves. Drawing back his hand he readied a spell as Dullahan poised another strike.

‘Surrender… The Pebble!” Brachyura yelled in defiance, coming in with all four claws and striking Dullahan quickly and firmly, taking a large chunk out of the horseman’s HP. Fletcher used its diverted attention to fire off an Elemental Bolt at the same weak spot Dullahan had been attacking, compounding the damage. The water they were in was offsetting some of the damage, as it turned out Brachyura was made to fight underwater, but they were gaining the advantage. One exchange after another and Brachyura slid back, dazed and a now gaping hole was exposed in its armour. Dullahan charged and leapt off its steed, lunging and driving its blade deep within the gash, a vicious and gorey squelch being all that signalled the end of the battle. There was nothing left in Fletcher’s MP, so Dullahan faded. Brachyura had no HP left but it stood there, motionless and caught frozen in time the moment it had died, statuesque. With one final rasp it died, falling to the ground with Fletcher close behind, unconscious from exhaustion.

Word Count: 575