[Shrubley, the Monster Adventurer] Chapter 132 – Dawn of the First Day IV

“Where are Shrubley and Smudge!?” Miranda roared, lifting the innkeeper by the collar and shaking his entire body. “What have you creepy townspeople done with my students?”

She glared into his terrified face.

“W-what do you mean, my fair lady?” he asked, clutching her arm. He was lifted so high his hair brushed the rafters.

“Don’t you ‘fair lady’ me!” she snapped. “I sleep a little too long and suddenly he’s nowhere to be seen.”

“Have you looked… outside?” One of the maids asked Miranda sheepishly.

“YES!”

Miranda’s furious voice was effectively a physical force to these people. The maid tumbled backwards like she was hit by a shockwave. Her fellow cowering servants dragged her back into the small group huddling around a couch and some strange exotic plants.

It was beyond her why they were all so weak, and yet clearly, they were hiding something.

“We would never do anything to harm Clocktown’s hero!” the innkeeper cried. “Please, my fair lady, don’t eat me!”

That gave Miranda pause. She narrowed her ruby eyes sharply at him. “Eat… you?”

“Yes, aren’t you a giant?”

Miranda’s eye twitched. “You have got to be kidding-”

“Believe it or not, sir,” Sose scampered across Miranda’s long arm to put his twitching nose in the innkeeper’s face. “My mistress is far, far more terrible than any ordinary giant! Unlike a dumb giant, she will come back for seconds.”

“Sose!”

The innkeeper’s eyes went wide with terror.

The oppa snickered. “Leave just enough blood in a person, and they bounce back after a few days! So, tell us where that shrub and slime are, or else I’ll bust out the blood straws, ya?”

“The blood straws? Really?” Cal whispered from around Miranda’s legs.

“Shush,” she told him.

“Last I saw, they were with the mayor in the clock tower!” the innkeeper said, sounding as if he was pleading for his life.

“Oh, ya?” Sose said. “And he’s boring them with trashy romance stories? You people are sick!”

“What? No! Our mayor would never! He has excellent taste in fiction!” One of the maids cried, then fearfully clutched one of her fellow servants when Miranda’s attention fell on her.

“Wait, did he say… romance stories?” The fellow servant whispered.

Miranda began to wonder if she was being a bit too harsh. She was used to people of all kinds targeting the little monster adventurers, so when Shrubley and Smudge disappeared from the inn and then the very town itself, she had logically presumed something sinister happened to them.

It was the first time she truly let them out of her sight since they departed Taamra.

Either she or Sose were always keeping an eye on them, even when they didn’t know it.

While she found the people of Clocktown to be on the creepy side, they also gave off a general sense of helplessness. They reminded her vaguely of Taamra, and why she bothered to ever protect the stupid humans at all.

“We shall see if you’re telling the truth,” Miranda said, lowering the man to the ground. “If you’re not,” she added while dusting and straightening his clothing, “there’s nowhere you can hide from me. Trust me, I’ll find you.”

She flashed her fangs at the innkeeper and left for the clock tower.

***

“Improbable or not, young master, it is real,” the astronomer told Shrubley. “What you are looking at is–”

“Myself,” Shrubley said with awe.

Through the telescope he could see the very clock tower he was within, and the very same telescope pointed at himself. He could just imagine himself visible through the massive lens, but of course, that was ridiculous. He couldn’t see through the telescope backwards, but he somehow knew it was true.

Shrubley backed away, deep in thought.

Smudge rolled up to it with the astronomer, who was busy making adjustments to give the slime the same treatment.

“Pyuu…? Pyuu! Pyuuuuu!” Smudge cried out. He jumped and bounced hastily away from the telescope, then grew legs and arms just to sit off to the side, grabbing his knees to his chest and rocking back and forth.

“What did he say?” the mayor asked, morbidly curious.

Shrubley frowned at his best friend. “He said, ‘Throughout this cosmic dance of bursting decadence and caged desires, we twirl through the vasty deeps of space, forever accelerating both toward and away from our very selves. But if our fates are to be sealed to our past, and true courage can win the day–and it can–then we shall still be here tomorrow to take ourselves on a date with Fate herself. I am too young for this.’”

“What… does that mean?” the mayor asked. Even the astronomer stared shocked and surprised at Smudge and Shrubley.

Shrubley shrugged.

They all looked at Smudge, still rocking back and forth. He muttered a soft, disconsolate, “Pyuu…” every so often.

Smudge had seen too much.

He peeped into the very heart of the cosmos and, for the briefest moment in time, was a receptacle for something else. Somewhere else, perhaps. A place not too different from Almora, and yet utterly alien at the same time. Where candied people roamed, untold horrors lurked beneath the saccharine surface, and monsters like Shrubley would be crowned princes.

However, Smudge didn’t know how to express any of this properly. So, he built himself some arms and knees out of gelatin and rocked back and forth until the imagery of what he had seen faded and he once more returned to the gentle embrace of blissful ignorance.

“How is that possible?” Shrubley asked, turning to the current matters. He put an arm around Smudge, who squealed with fright for a moment before he realized who was touching him and calmed down.

“We do not know,” the astronomer said. “This just happened one day. Some believe that the Vile Workshop made us somehow, and has kept us trapped. Sending monsters and the like as a child would to their own toy town. Playing god, if you will.”

“Nonsense,” the mayor told him. “There is no way it is that strong. I–and many of our fine people–believe that the Vile Workshop has erected a barrier around us, warping time and space so that when you look out, you are truly looking in.”

“Like a very large and distorted mirror,” Shrubley guessed.

“Just so, my boy, just so!”

“Then we are trapped,” Shrubley said. “You should have warned us.”

“No, you are not trapped. If you leave by the time the festival begins, you will not be trapped here. Only us. You may leave at any time you choose, young sir, but we beg of you to help us in our hour of need!”

Shrubley thought about that. “There are still 60-odd hours left, yes?”

“63 hours,” the mayor confirmed after checking his gold pocket watch. “Here, have mine. It will chime on the hour every hour, and let you know when the final day approaches. I hope you will help us, Shrubley. We need you more than you could ever know.”

Shrubley accepted the gold pocket watch and tucked it into his bushy body, clipping it to one of his many inner branches. “Thank you, mayor. I will do my best but… how can I help? If you are trapped, how can we even get to the Vile Workshop?”

Oron stared at the mayor. “You did not tell him?”

The mayor puffed up defensively. “I wanted to show the boys what they were getting into. Nobody should do this without having to see what they are dealing with, Oron. It would not be right.” He cleared his throat and turned to Shrubley, removing something from his silken vest.

Shrubley looked at the oblong wooden box.

The astronomer tapped the side of his crooked nose. “You’re in for a treat, sonny.”

“Only the greatest heroes among heroes have held this item in their hands,” the mayor told Shrubley. “And we would be honored if you would follow in their footsteps. It is said that the greatest hero of our town once wielded this to keep Clocktown safe. It is both a key and a weapon. The least of 3.”

Within the box was a long, glittering polished piece of brass with intricately carved scrollwork. It looked like a cross between a key and an enormous clock hand.

How did it fit inside that small box? Shrubley wondered. While smaller than the swords he had used, it was perfectly sized for his frame. In his hands, it would look like a proper sword instead of a kid playing with their father’s old weapon.

“This is the key to the first of Clocktown’s 3 trials,” the mayor said. “Only the most trusted heroes are allowed to wield it.”

“What does it do?” Shrubley asked, reaching out gently for the item.

He had to admit, he was entranced by the golden sheen of the brass craftsmanship. It was a beautiful work of art that he would feel very sorry to have to wield, if it was as the mayor said.

As soon as Shrubley’s hand grasped the warm metal at the base, he understood a fraction of the item’s power. Secundus, the item’s name, appeared in his mind, was just as the mayor had told him. It was a key, but it was a weapon, too.

A very dangerous one.

Most interestingly of all, was that it lacked Shardscript. There was no description, no information given about the item. It might as well not exist, except that Shrubley could feel it in his wooden grasp.

The thrum of golden power it carried threatened to whisk him away. The lack of any sort of Shardscript bothered him, suggesting it was something that did not belong. Much like Clocktown itself.

Shrubley stared at the delicate scrollwork and curving lines of Secundus. “This is the least of the 3? With this, you could easily destroy the Vile Workshop. You could destroy any foe that threatened you!”

“Yes, my boy. There are 3 relics, only the least of which we were able to hold and keep safe. But as you can see, the Vile Workshop wants even the least of them for its own ends. We have done all we can to keep this artifact safe. Without a hero to wield it, we dare not expose it to capture. We are not as strong as you, Shrubley. And our powers–including that of [Secundus] are greatly diminished outside of Clocktown. We have only ever used it in the most dire defenses of our lives and home.”

Smudge stopped rocking and had instead grown an extra thumb for him to suck on as he held onto Shrubley like a frightened child.

“It will be okay, Smudge,” Shrubley promised, giving him a tight side squeeze. “We will save this place, and the Vile Workshop will trouble them no longer. You have my word as an adventurer,” Shrubley said, directing that last bit at the mayor.

“Excuse me for saying so, Shrubley, but we do not take much stock with the Adventurers Guild. We do, however, see that you have the heart of a hero. And we trust you, Shrubley. We trust you to do the right thing.”

The astronomer cackled to himself and sat down in his chair. “Another hero joins the fray!” His beetle-black eyes focused on Shrubley. “Are you going to rush off like those other fools, to strike true at the heart of evil itself?”

“Oron!” the mayor snapped. “Enough.”

Shrubley shook his bushy head. “I am no fool, Mister Oron. I am nothing without my friends. Together, we will find a way to stop the Vile Workshop before the festival.”

“You only have 63 hours to do it!” the astronomer cackled. “Are you sure that’s enough time to complete the trials, discover the secret to using that do-hickey you have in your hand, and confront the Vile Workshop in a deadly battle of wits and skill?”

Shrubley looked from Secundus to the astronomer. “Yes.”

New Quest: Out of Time

Having learned the truth behind Clocktown, its citizens have beseeched you for help in their dire hour of need. Defeat the Vile Workshop and free Clocktown from its temporal lock to finally grant its people their overdue rest.

Objectives:

Complete the trials 0/3

Recover Clocktown’s relics 1/3

Defeat the Vile Workshop 0/1

Rewards:

Class Experience (Epic)

Party Experience (Epic)

[Essence Gem (Variable Grade)]

1 [Clock Gem]

Monster Accolades (Epic)

For a wonder, the astronomer stared back at him and nodded sagely. There was no hint of mirth or dark glee in his expression. “Oh. Well. Then go in peace, young hero. And may the gods guide your path.”

Shrubley gave a gentle tug on Smudge. “Come along, Smudge. We need to talk to the others.”