Bog Standard Isekai

Brin stared at Baron Neves in shock. It was him; he was really here and he knew about Brin’s lawbreaking. He was screwed.

[Inspect] didn’t help much.

The Right and Honorable Lord Gualberto Neves, who by the grace and sufferance of His Excellency King Lancarote, High King of Frenaria, has been granted for his stewardship a barony in Southern Frenaria, the Neves Barony, and upon whom rests the governorship of Oud’s Bog and the surrounding townships, maintaining all rights and responsibilities therein for the good of the people under the direction of the crown, with all faithfulness to the gods.

All that really told Brin was that this man’s [Hide Status] was so advanced that [Inspect] had been completely rewritten.

Hogg wore a completely blank expression, giving nothing away. Would he just stand here if the Baron decided to drag him away to the dungeon? He might, since Brin had actually done the crime he was in trouble for.

Brin looked at the Baron and gulped. When he’d spied on him with the Invisible Eye, Brin had noticed that the Baron was somewhat portly, but he hadn’t really realized just how huge he was. He seemed to fill the entire room with a commanding presence. Even seated at the table, seemingly relaxed, Brin couldn’t imagine a possible world where he’d be a threat to this man. It was something like what he felt around Lumina or Hogg. Power. A gap in levels that couldn’t be surmounted.

Neves looked at Brin and frowned. His upper lip trembled, making his red mustache shiver. Then he took a deep breath and said, “HA!”

What followed was a hearty torrent of laughter that must’ve been audible through the entire inn. Brin actually saw picture frames on the walls tilt out of place. He smiled along uneasily until the Baron was done.

“Forgive me,” said Neves, wiping his eye with a pinky as if pushing away tears. “But the look on your face! Well, you can relax. I have no intention of clapping you in irons.”

Neves held up a hand. “No, no, I should apologize, springing myself upon you like this. I simply wished to see the one who made such a ruckus in my city. And now I see that you’re as interesting as I’d imagined. What an unusual assortment of scars! You’ll forgive me for satisfying my curiosity.”

“Naturally. What’s to forgive? I’m the one who–”

Neves held up a hand again. “Oh no, don’t apologize. Come, you’ve had a long day and I’m sure you wish for a rest. But you simply must come visit me before you leave town, I’m sure my daughter would love to meet you. For dinner perhaps? Is tomorrow too early? Or even tonight.”

“Tonight would be most acceptable, my lord,” said Hogg.

“Excellent. I’ll notify the staff to let you in. Drop by whenever you wish.”

“As you wish, my lord,” said Hogg.

“Good! Well then, I must be off.”

The Baron rose, and Hogg and Brin held a courteous half-bow until the man was out the room. He seemed to take the pressure in the room with him, and Brin let out a sigh of relief.

Hogg’s eye twitched. “He says ‘come whenever’ but he means exactly six in the afternoon.”

“I know. I was paying attention to Lumina’s lessons.” Brin sighed again and sat in the Baron’s chair. “What I don’t get is why he wasn’t speaking High Frenarian. Lumina was insistent that nobles always speak High Frenarian.”

“For your sake, I’d wager. I’ve never had any nobles trying to suck up to me, that’s for sure,” said Hogg.

“That can’t be right. Wait, hold on.” Brin used [Memories in Glass] to call up the memory of the Baron when Brin had entered the room. It didn’t take long to find since it was so recent.

He hadn’t mistaken the tense pressure he’d felt when he’d entered the room, the Baron had looked positively frosty at first glance. But then Brin noticed something he’d missed the first time around. Neves’ eyes flicked down to Brin’s ring. Not the glass ring he used to store all his memories, the one that Lumina had given him. The one that identified him as her son.

“Oh. This is about sucking up to Lumina.”

“Most likely. He came himself because since we’re staying here, he knew that we’re rich. Rich people can be squeezed. But then he changed his posture real quick when he got a glance at that ring on your finger.”

“So he’s going to try to pressure us to get some kind of favor from Lumina,” Brin said, feeling uncomfortable. If it were just him in danger, he’d bear with it, but making this into Lumina’s problem suddenly felt a step too far. Better to leave town than to let some small-town baron manipulate his new family.

“Nothing so crass. Most likely he just wants to butter you up so that you’ll remember him fondly when you’re a powerful person someday. Remember that when you’re going in there. He’ll probably act like he’s doing you a really big favor by letting you off scott free, but honestly all he’s saving you from is a few hours in the stockade, maybe a whipping. Or a fine, now that he knows you’re rich.”

“If I had gotten arrested, would they have verified my Class with an [Interrogator]?” asked Brin.

“Yeah. In that case you might’ve been in a bit of trouble. But he doesn’t know that.”

They spent the next hour finding the right clothes. For some reason, Hogg got to keep his normal black leathers, claiming “It’s my brand” but still insisted on finding something else for Brin to wear. Apparently, what counted as fine clothing in Hammon’s Bog just looked like a folk costume here and Brin needed something a bit more subtle.

Luckily, they found a high-leveled [Tailor] in the neighborhood who could whip something up in a rush. He dressed Brin in a maroon silk shirt, with an elegant jacket and loose slacks that tucked into tight stockings at the middle of his shins, and delicate slippers that looked like they’d fall apart if he stepped onto a rough stone. Solia help him, it was designed to show off his calves.

He also forced Brin to wear a hat, but vastly reduced the size of the feather when he complained. When the [Tailor] overheard Brin mention how he wished he’d brought Marksi’s top hat, he’d insisted on whipping up a nice velvet cap and a matching vest for the dragonling.

Marksi coudn’t be torn away from the [Tailor’s] mirror, so Brin summoned him a little Marksi-sized mirror, and the dragonling spent the rest of the outing admiring himself.

“Are we bringing Marksi?” Brin asked.

“Have you ever met a single person that doesn’t like Marksi? Of course he’s coming,” Hogg answered.

Appropriately dressed, Hogg summoned a carriage and they were off. Brin wasn’t sure why they needed a carriage; it wasn’t like he couldn’t walk just as quickly since the carriage barely moved faster than the pace of traffic so as not to run anyone over.

He appreciated the air conditioning, though. Even though he had enough resistance that the muggy heat couldn’t really make him uncomfortable, it was still nice to bask in a convenience that he remembered from home.

A footman opened the door and reached out a hand to help Brin out of the wagon, which Brin accepted because he knew it was expected, but he couldn’t help feeling it strange to be treated like an invalid.

Another glance at the footman revealed that this was actually a [Steward], and level 45, though [Inspect] didn’t give his name for some reason. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, despite the fact that [Stewards] were the highest ranking servants in a household, he had an almost casual air. He shrugged off Brin’s stare with an easy smile.

“Wow, six o’clock exactly. Somebody got the memo,” said the [Steward], and Brin chuckled despite himself. “Hey, you’re the kukubaru guy, right?”

“Uh, do I want to be the kukubaru guy?”

“It could be worse! They could be calling you… um… ok, maybe it couldn’t be worse.”

Brin laughed out loud at that, some of the nervousness from the upcoming meeting bleeding away.

The [Steward] leaned over and lowered his voice conspiratorially. “So listen, just relax, alright? Baron Neves thinks this whole thing is more funny than anything. And don’t worry too much about putting a toe out of line or using the wrong fork or whatever. We don’t stand too much on formality around here.”

“Thanks,” said Brin.

“No problem. And… oh wow! Who’s this?” The [Steward’s] face lit up in delight when Marksi scampered out of the carriage in his fine vest and matching hat. Marksi quickly decided that he was good people and immediately hopped up into the [Steward’s] arms to receive a stick of jerky that he’d just happened to have on hand.

This guy was good.

Still gushing about Marksi, the [Steward] turned and walked towards the house, and Brin followed with Hogg by his side.

This [Steward] was the exact polar opposite of the strict, demanding butlers that Brin had imagined. He seemed like the kind of guy you could get a beer with, and that if Brin pointed out that this was possibly the second most powerful man in the city he’d shrug and say it was just a job.

The entire effect might be artificial. This attitude might be entirely designed to put him at ease. Even knowing that, it was working.

The mansion was exactly as he remembered with the fine gardens and the stately white exterior, although now that Brin didn't have to concentrate so hard on keeping up an Invisible Eye, he had the presence of mind to look around and [Inspect] everything. A flower bush showed him "Grown and maintained by the [Gardener] Vasilon. I also do weddings and parties! Inquire at the Guild of Commerce and Industry to check for availability."

The mansion itself similarly advertised the architect. He was getting the feeling a lot of high level crafters had signature Skills similar to what he'd just gotten with [Celebrated]. He didn't know if he liked it. He wanted information on the product itself, not just an advertisement for its creator.

When he [Inspected] the metal fence around the property, it shrugged off his Skill completely.

Inside, the [Steward] ushered them straight past the receiving room where Zerif had met with the Baron, into a lounge that looked much more lived-in. It was full of large, Bavarian-style furniture that had obviously been built to the scale of the master of the house.

Neves waited for them there, reclining on a sofa with his feet on a coffee table, a mug in his hand. He rose. "Excellent! I'm told dinner is very nearly ready. If you'll follow me... oh, but first you should meet Iola. Iola! Come here, sweetheart!"

A girl maybe a year or two older than Brin swept into the room. She had the usual Frenarian brown curls and wore a green dress that Value Sense told Brin was more expensive than anything he'd ever seen even [Weaver] Tawna wear. It was plain and almost simple, but suited her perfectly.

"Oh, and you must be Brin the Mistaken. I thought that must be a pseudonym, but [Inspect] is saying that's your real name! How interesting. It suits you." Her eyes flicked briefly to the scars on his face and hands, lingering for a moment on the ring-lines around the fingers that had been severed and reattached. [Scarred, but Healing] counted scars that had been reduced to thin white lines as "healed", and they didn't seem to fade any more after that, a fact which Brin honestly loved.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

He grinned, "That's me. And you must be Iola? A pleasure, and thank you for welcoming us into your home, especially given the circumstances."

"Oh, no, what circumstances could those be? After you made such a splash in our little town, I dearly wished to meet you, for real." She seemed sincere, but there was also something strange about the way she spoke that he couldn't quite put a finger on.

"I'm no one special. This is Hogg, by the way," said Brin.

"A man of few words, I know the type. Don't worry, I'm not one to pry," said Neves.

"Pry into what? I'm only a simple [Warrior], my lord," said Hogg.

"Of course."

Brin looked around for Marksi to introduce him, but noticed he wasn't around. The [Steward] had carried him away when he'd left.

"You're probably all famished. Come, taken mete with us." Iola blushed. "I mean, supper is ready."

Oh, so that was it. Brin should've realized this, but the fact that they were speaking common Frenarian with him wasn't because they knew they could let their guard down and act casual since he was a Commoner. They had deliberately chosen to talk and act this way to put him at ease and get on his good side.

Lumina had told him this, but it hadn't really sunken in until now: High Frenarian was the nobility's first language. It's what they grew up speaking, and it was what they were most comfortable with. They only learned regular Frenarian so that they could understand their lessers.

Should he switch to High Frenarian? No, that would only draw attention to Iola's lapse and embarrass her. Best to play along.

He let her guide him and Hogg into a large dining room, and to his relief there was a minimal amount of plates and silverware on the table. No food had been set down yet, which must mean the servants would bring it in after they'd sat.

They'd spoken to Brin first, which meant he was the primary guest, so he crossed the room to pull out the chair for Iola and see her seated before crossing back to his side. Iola seemed pleased that he'd understood that portion of etiquette, and seemed to relax a little now that she could see he wasn't an absolute barbarian.

A row of footmen and maids entered from the other room, holding platters of food and drink. A footman carved a steak from his tray and placed it on Brin's plate, while a maid on the other side set down a portion of vegetables, all while yet another servant filled his cup. Somehow, none of them pressed into him or felt like they were in the way at all; he had the uncanny feeling that if he stood up suddenly or swung his arms around he wouldn't touch anyone at all.

Iola promptly invited them to eat and took the first bite, and Brin dug in.

The steak was fantastic, easily the best thing he'd ever tasted in this world. He even [Inspected] it just to make sure, but it was really cow meat. That left him wondering about what combination of high level [Rancher] or [Cattle Farmer] combined with [Chef] had come together to create something like this. A masterpiece.

He was so intent on the meal that it wasn't until the steak was gone and the vegetables were half finished that he realized he'd been vacuuming up his dinner and he'd completely forgotten the time and place. Thinking back, he didn't think he'd abandoned his manners, but he'd completely forgotten about his hosts. Or actually not? It was Neves' responsibility to start a conversation. Brin wouldn't be seen as rude for being silent while Neves was the same.

Still, Brin decided to get things moving. "This is delicious. Almost a shame to eat it, it's so good. I wish I could put a frame around it and hang it in a museum."

"Awesome to hear it pleases you," said Iola. "Our man does his best."

"He's an artist," said Brin.

"He's as good as can be found in a backwater like this," said Neves. "Try the beer, though, I'll call that good no matter where I go."

Brin did, and found it so dark and bitter that it probably should've been teaching Potions at Hogwarts.

Hogg was already into his third cup. "I didn't think you could get something this good outside of Olland. How did you tempt a [Brygger] to come all the way down here?"

Neves raised his cup. "A man of culture, I see. I don't know if I can take full credit; I just snapped up an opportunity."

Hogg raised his cup in toast.

"And what do you think of it, Iola?" asked Neves.

Iola looked at her cup cautiously. "It's grand, I'm sure."

"Well, you haven't taken so much as a sip! You won't want to offend our guests!"

Brin started "I'm not--"

"Nonsense!" the Baron cut in. "Go on, give it a try."

Iola slowly brought the cup to her lips, and visibly restrained a wince at the strong flavor. Neves burst out in hearty laughter.

"I apologize. It's too fun to tease her!" he said, not looking sorry at all.

Brin had to admit though, the way she pouted was at least a little bit cute. She had a smooth, almost supernatural elegance to her that was either the result of a Skill or from high Dexterity matched with a lifetime of training. It made him want to see what he could do to make her lose her perfect poise.

There were a few small breaks. During dinner she kept putting her fork down as if to switch to another one, only to realize they’d only set her place with one fork and pick the same one up again.

"Brin, how did you come to learn to play the half-lute, if my asking doesn't bug you too much? It's not a common pastime for a [Glasser]," Iola asked.

Level up! Hide Status 14 -> 15

"It's not, but the story isn't a long one. I like music, so I asked the town's [Bard] to teach me and he did."

"It occurs to me that may have been super generous of him," said Iola.

"It was. Back then I was just a weird, scary orphan, but he didn't mind at all."

"Back then? So you aren't a weird, scary orphan now?" she said with a cheeky grin.

"Now I'm a weird, scary, rich orphan. Totally different," said Brin, which got him a chuckle. "And I suppose I have some amount of legitimacy through adoption, but it's really nothing to brag about."

Was that too on the nose? He figured the number one question they had, and the biggest reason they'd invited him, was to figure out his relationship to Lumina. He had no reason not to tell them. No, I'm not a bastard. Yes, I'm officially adopted.

"I see. I dabble a bit myself. In music," said Iola.

[Inspect] called her a [Rider], level 40, which was impressive for her age. So she really was like him, playing music on the side. "Oh, what do you play?"

"This and that. I tenden to–I mean, I like the harpsichord."

Brin pretended to choke on his beer. "What?"

Her smile froze, "What's wrong with the harpsichord?"

"Nothing!" he assured her. "Nothing. It's just an odd choice is all, when the piano forte exists. If your family can't afford one I'll have someone send one over later; it'll completely change your world."

Iola gave a soft smile that said she realized she was being teased and was game for it. "We might have one. I think I must've heard a servant plinking away with one, down in the dungeon perhaps."

"You have a dungeon? The acoustics there must be amazing," said Brin.

"I wouldn't know."

"The harpsichord. I heard someone describe the sound it makes as two skeletons fornicating on a tin roof. But I can say for a fact that it's not true," said Brin.

Hogg and Neves barked out in laughter, while Iola said, "How so?"

"Well, you know, we had the undead crawling up and down our town in Hammon's Bog.” He decided to shift the tone away from the comical for the moment and steal Davi’s description of the undead. After all, this was one of the main things he wanted from this meeting, to let them know that the battle for Hammon's Bog was much worse than their [Criers] were saying. He paused, and then lowered his voice before continuing. “They cut us off, a silent embargo hiding in the forest. They never announced themselves, we just knew that anyone who went into the forest wouldn’t come back. It went on for months like that. When they finally came, they were ten thousand strong. Armored undead soldiers, archers, even giants. They hacked at our gates from the outside while their [Witch] infiltrators undermined our defenses from the inside. When Lumina arrived, our walls had fallen, our best fighters were cursed or dead, and we were huddled up together in the town square for one last stand. We thought the few we could fit in the temple for sanctuary were the only ones who would survive."

Neves said, "I must be careful how I phrase this. On the local scale, it would break my heart to tell someone that they are safe, when they are in fact in some amount of danger. The King has other priorities. On the national scale, projecting strength to ward off any chance of invasion is vital to our nation's very existence. In all matters, I must defer to the judgment of the King."

"I figured it was something like that," said Brin. It was good to have confirmation, and it had neatly finished setting up his joke. "So anyways, the undead were everywhere. Inside the walls. The skeletons made a clatter as they stepped across cobblestones, around fences, over tin rooftops..."

Brin waited dramatically, building up the tension.

"He's going to say that the skeletons on the tin roofs sound better than a harpsichord," said Hogg.

At the same time, Brin said, "Compared with a harpsichord, the skeletons actually sounded– dammit Hogg!"

Iola let out a hearty guffaw and then clapped her hands over her mouth at the outburst, which just set the rest of the table to laughing. Iola eventually joined in with a more restrained, practiced laugh, and he even heard some hushed giggling from the servants clearing away their plates.

"You completely murdered my punchline," Brin complained.

"It wasn't going to land. You spent way too long on the setup," Hogg said.

"It was going to be hilarious."

"I was about to fall asleep," Hogg replied, deadpan.

Brin pointed at him. "That doesn't mean anything. You literally slept through a zombie invasion!"

Iola watched the back and forth with delight, and said, "It was a swell joke, Brin."

"You're just saying that." He sighed. "There's nothing wrong with the harpsichord. It's nice you have something you're passionate about."

"Shaltow– that is, you should come play with me. It would be a delight to play with another hobbyist. I get so anxious practicing with [Bards]."

"Right?" Brin agreed. "They act like they have a monopoly on music."

"Perhaps... and mind me I am most reluctant to cut in here, but perhaps there's another matter we should discuss first," said Neves.

Brin leaned back in his chair and put his hands in his lap, then remembered that wasn't allowed and held them together on the table. "Right."

It was time to discuss his punishment.

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