Questing Sucks (Book 1) (4 page)

For the first time in a twenty-seasoned existence, Sehn wanted to cry. The elves laughed and applauded. Sehn wondered how much humiliation and torture an Elf could withstand before his heart gave out.

“Never shall the dawn come to a new day, that I shall forget what thou hath done for mine sibling,” a formal voice spoke.

Sehn turned as the crowed made way to admit yet another person.
Not Cah’lia!

“Sehn,” she began informally, “Nero told me how you said he’d be an idiot to go to that awful place. I’m sorry I blamed you.”

“Don’t be, because he lied to you. My exact words were, ‘Nero! Hey, buddy, there’s treasure in the Death Woods. Wanna go find some with me?’ Thank me not, Cah’lia. Now, be gone from my presence, or so help me Gods a fireball will be headed in your direction.”

Sehn had had enough. This had gone too far. Before anyone could react, he brushed away the hands holding him down and sat up. A sharp sensation ran through his body, one that almost seemed to register as extreme pain, but that was impossible. He pushed himself to his feet.

Hmm, it must just be a new form of pleasure. The Great Sehn feels no pain.

“
Lie back down this instant, Sehn, or we’ll tie you there,” Cah’lia said.

“Why should I? Why would the Great Sehn need rest? Be gone, woman, for no female may dare order the Great Sehn to—”

Cah’lia gently poked Sehn in the center of the bandage wrapped around his stomach with the tip of her finger. An explosion of
pai
—no, pleasure, shot through Sehn.

It is pleasure! It is! OWWWWE. It’s unbearable.

“
You dare raise a finger to the great Sehn! All of you shall die in my eternal fire! You shall all—” He coughed, unable to control his body, dropping to one knee.

“If you’re not injured then why are you wearing all those bandages?” Cah’lia asked.

Grunting from pain, (pleasure) Sehn looked at her.

“You fool! Do you know nothing of magic? The great and benevolent Sehn is merely imbuing these bandages with his healing magic, so that they may be used on other injured patients.”

Nero was so excited to hear this that he literally danced with delight, spinning in a way that made his small ears wobble around his puffy face. “See! Nothing hurts the Great Sehn, sister. Go ahead and show them, Sehn. Take off your bandages and then let’s go play.”

Sehn nodded. “You have the right of things, Nero.” He began undoing his bandages but was tackled by Cah’lia, along with the assistance of his three Human friends.

“Nero,
Shh
, silence yourself, brother. Maybe it’s best not to let you see him for a while. Calen, would you mind?”

Calen nodded and dragged Nero out of the room. The boy wailed and kicked, tears streaking down his face. When the crowd finally dispersed, a miserable Sehn was alone with just his friends—if you could really call them friends, as no living being—or even God for that matter—was worthy of his friendship.

After he’d rescued Patrick from the poisonous venom—by accident, he reminded himself—he and his two followers Rillith and Daniel had begun showing up at Sehn’s home on close to a daily basis. Never invited, of course, and Sehn had repeatedly thrown them out. After some time, however, they began bringing alcohol and games of chance. Sehn minded them less and less, provided, of course, they continued to make offerings to their God-king.

Eventually, Sehn allowed them to follow him on hunting trips. Not because Sehn needed their help or anything, but if they were going to hang around him anyway, then at the very least they could be useful. Well, at least when not falling like idiots into lava-pits.

Patrick grinned and whispered into Sehn’s ear, despite being alone in the room. “Sehn, we have word on a new treasure,” he began. “It’s worth enough to buy out all of Elvar. We think you might be interested.”

Sehn smiled. It was the first good thing he’d heard all day.

 

 

As the village burned and the cries of death filled the air, even the animals wept. The acrid smell of smoke thickened on the wind, making breathing difficult for some miles. Where once stood a town of farmers, bakers, and crafters now stood an inferno of death and destruction. Not even the children were spared its fiery onslaught.

The few that survived crawled away on shaking knees, unable to even glance behind them at the loss of everything they’d lived for. But their pain was short-lived, as the soldiers clad in black ran them through from the backs of their warhorses.

A man with a hawk-mask and burning red eyes looked upon the destruction with indifference. Lives were meaningless, but goals were not. He raised an eyebrow as a row of horse mounted soldiers pulled up in front of him. The company’s leader, a sadistic little rat of a man, grinned with satisfaction.

“So, did you find it for me, Ghell?” asked the Man with the hawk mask.

“Yes, my lord. Here it is. The object of your desire.”

The Man with the hawk mask removed a glove, revealing a shriveled and disfigured hand. He felt the object buzz between his fingers while pleasure radiated through his mind at its empowering tingle.

“Good…Good. With this, we now have four.”

He kicked his horse, and the beast took off.

Two more. Just two more.

Chapter 4: Sehn is Better than Everyone Else

 

Two whole weeks they had kept him at that accursed infirmary. Him, the Great Sehn!

Sehn walked down the smooth Dwarven paved roads in the foreign trade district of Elvar. It was here that he usually came to get away. This was the one place in Elvar unlike any other: a melting pot of cultures.

There were the typical tree-complexes and netted treetop crossings, but also there were buildings and Dwarven-made workshops. Being that the trade district made this place a constant source of activity, people from every nation gathered here to exchange goods with the Elves.

On first glance, due to its melting pot nature, the trade district was a ridiculous place. No other place in the world would you find a Human’s cottage on top of an Elven tree, or even an Elven tree on top of a noble’s castle. In one such extremity, one Dwarf had an Elven tree leading into a Human castle and up into a Dwarven workshop. Why? If you asked Sehn, it was because regardless of race, gender, or color, people were incredibly stupid
.

Sehn loved coming to the trade district. For one, Elves around here made no attempt at Elven formality, offering to speak in plain, blunt sentences. Secondly, he could find many great deals on items of interest.

He walked aimlessly through the throngs of people. Along the Dwarven paved roads, people had booths, kiosks and shops, while criers stood on street corners crying their wares. People lined both sides of the road examining goods and haggling prices. There was so much here that Sehn desired, and yet he could afford almost none of it, but all that would change. Tonight he would meet with his Human friends, and they would discuss some new treasure.

Off to his right, Sehn eyed rubies from mountains so far away that many maps didn’t contain locations of them. To his left, his eyes watered at weapons of the finest caliber. Sehn approached the booth of one such shop.

“Greetings, my most prestigious of Elves, welcome, welcome, welcome! Do you see something you like?”

The shopkeeper was a stocky Elf, as most merchants were. Stereotypically, the Elven people were thin, muscular, and taut. But much like any civilization, only those in battle professions were much in the way of bulk.

Sehn eyed the assortment of weapons. The three fools who'd carried him out of the Death Woods hadn’t bothered to retrieve the bow he'd dropped, something they would pay for with their lives.

“How much do you charge for that one?” Sehn asked, pointing to a sturdy-looking bow.

“Oh, you have excellent eyes, my young Elf.”

Sehn nodded. Of course he did.

“This,” the shopkeeper said as he held up the weapon, “is the newest model from the Naris clan. It is an Elven longbow like no other.”

Sehn examined it and was forced to agree. It was remarkable. The longbow was dark brown, sturdy, and the drawstring was made from the silk of Rezza-Spiders, which was among the rarest and most difficult silk to obtain. Running his hand along the length of the grip, it felt nothing short of flawless.

“Currently, the going price is one thousand four hundred Elvens.”

Sehn would have this weapon, even if it bankrupted him in the process. But what a price. It only cost a mere thousand Elvens each moon cycle for his rent, making this one extravagant purchase.

“All right then, I’m buying this. I shall have you return the money to me in full when I have conquered the world and made you my slave.”

Sehn reached into his grey tunic for his money pouch.

“Hold on a minute,” the shopkeeper said. “You’re Sehn the Elf, yes? I heard what you did for the Nero boy. He lives in my district. I’ll tell ya what. I’ll give you the bow half off as thanks for your service to this community.”

Sehn flared in outrage. “You dare offer charity to the Great Sehn! I demand you charge me double price this instant, or so help me Gods, I shall slit your throat where you stand!”

As Sehn walked away with his new weapon, which had cost him three moon-cycles of rent, he realized he’d once again screwed himself. People turned to look as he shouted expletives in the middle of the street.

“Fuck my life!”

He turned and stormed away. This was nowhere near the first time this had happened to him, and he couldn’t understand why every time he went to the market he returned home with empty pockets. Life wasn’t fair.

 

 

Nero skipped along Southern Elvar, pausing every so often to hop playfully over the small stones that paved the shallow stream on which he traveled. He sung old tunes as he skipped, looking for something fun to do.

“I can’t wait till I get bigger. I’m gonna fight monsters like Sehn!”

Nero wanted so badly to be more like Sehn, because he was awesome and unstoppable. He’d even let that big green monster hurt him just to give it a fair chance.

It was a beautiful night in Elvar. All the constellations were visible, running wildly across the sky. The breeze was soothing, and Nero smiled as it washed over his wobbly ears. Nero looked up as he came to the old, beaten tree.

He climbed the ladder to the second tier of homes in the old town of Serpent-Wood. With his hands on the ladder, he was unable to pinch his nose shut—the place was a dump and it stunk like one. It didn’t matter, though. One day, he and Sehn would get rich and famous together. Sehn had even promised Nero that when he destroyed the world, he’d make sure not to call fire down on Nero’s home. As his greatest disciple, Nero expected nothing less than to be spared from what Sehn referred to as ‘the day of judgment’.

Arriving at Sehn’s home, Nero peeked through the window. Sehn wasn’t alone. There were Humans in there with him.

Hmm, Sehn’s got friends over
.
He doesn’t like me around when he’s talking business. Oh boy, now I wanna know what they’re talking about. After all, I, the great Nero, am his best disciple. I've gotta know everything he does if I wanna be the best disciple I can be.

Nero stifled a giggle with his arm and then leaped quietly onto the side of the house overlooking the city. He grabbed onto the ledge and hung from the bottom of a window frame, his legs dangling in the air. Pulling himself just high enough to see and hear, but to not have the same done in return, Nero glanced inside.

Sehn was sitting on his ragged cotton couch, which was torn and looked to be on the verge of collapse. The three Humans from earlier were seated at a table behind him. They were in the middle of a conversation.

“No disrespect was intended,” one of the Humans said.

“You dare tell Sehn not to drink! I expect a four-hundred word or more apology this instant, or I shall kill you before you can utter a four-hundred-and-
oneth
!”

“Sehn,” Rillith began, “every time we drink with you, no business gets done, lad. This treasure I’m talking about, it’s…it’s not like the others. Aye, Patrick and I have been discussing this every day for the two weeks you've been in the infirmary. If we grab this treasure, you can have that back-scratching servant you’ve always wanted.”

Sehn put down the bottle of Human Whiskey moments before a stream of the dark liquid entered his mouth. Cautiously, he glanced at Patrick, narrowing his eyes in scrutiny.

“And the grape-feeders?” he asked.

Patrick laughed. “Sehn, you can own every grape in the world if you want. After we get this treasure, that is.”

Sehn stood up from his chair and placed the alcohol back in his wine-cabinet. The entire home was only one room, with a table, couch, a few storage compartments, a chest, and a sleeping pallet. Sehn should’ve been able to afford a better place. Nero knew for a fact that Sehn made quite a bit of money, but he didn’t understand what Sehn kept spending all of it on. As his disciple, perhaps Nero would have to look into managing Sehn’s finances better, so he didn’t have to live in such dirt.

Part of it, Nero knew, was Sehn’s clumsiness. The heroic Elf always seemed to trip and fall when walking past the poor district, spilling money all over the place. He would never heed Nero’s suggestions of buying a tighter fitting tunic. Nero had seen him lose several coin purses this way, and once the starving Elven children got their fingers on the money, there was no way of getting it back.

“All right, Patrick, tell me about it.”

Nero didn’t know much about the Humans, but he did know that Patrick seemed to be the leader of the three. Whenever they hung out with Sehn, the two always obeyed everything Patrick said. It was kind of weird, but Nero didn’t give it too much thought.

Patrick stood from the table and walked over to Sehn. Of the three Humans, he wore the finest clothing. Perhaps even the finest clothes Nero had seen any Human wear. He was clearly a man that could hold onto money. Poor Sehn; if only he didn’t waste it all.

On this warm night, Patrick wore a red Rezza-Spider silk vest with matching trousers. On each hand, he wore ornate, golden jewelry from different parts of the world. Nero’s eyes watered at the diamond bracelet on his left wrist, which gleamed in the light of the small lanterns.

Patrick handed him a map, and Sehn ripped it out of the man’s fingers. His two companions winced at the gesture, and Patrick shot them a cautionary look.

That was odd,
Nero thought.

Sehn only took a single glance at the map and then growled at the three men. “Are you lot nuts? This treasure is located on the other end of the world. It’s even past Shinsar!”

There was definitely something off-putting about Patrick’s two companions. A look of worry crossed their faces, and Patrick shot them yet another glance. Nero didn’t understand why they were taking this treasure so seriously.

Oh, I know! I’m such a smart Elf
.
They’re worried because they know if Sehn the Almighty doesn’t go, they don’t have any chance of retrieving it without him.

Rillith looked at Patrick, who offered a nod. He then stepped forward and approached Sehn. “Look, lad, this is your chance to make all your dreams come true. I don’t understand why you’re so reluctant to go. Don’t you want to be rich? Aye, the thought sounds good, does it not?”