“And then I slew Aldiun, thus saving the world from certain ruin!” Olaf Nordsson finished recounting, before finishing off the ale in his hand and slamming the tankard on the table.
“Was it necessary to listen to that whole tale?” Xin Erwa asked Jin cooly while sipping her drink. Some sort of fiery concoction glowing a hot red.
“It’s a fascinating story, what can I say, whoever spun it first must have been a bit of a genius,” Jin said simply, looking the wayward Dragonborn up and down.
The man was in the late stages of foundation establishment, but considering his dress he’d already sold off his chances of advancement by building a shoddy foundation.
No respectable cultivator would wear such soiled clothes.
A dirty combat skirt alongside a leather gambeson that had more stains than material. The only somewhat high quality piece of equipment was the horned helmet on the man’s head and maybe the sword at his hip.
“Friend, first of all, thank you for saving the world. Your contribution is greatly appreciated,” Jin started. “It was a great chance to meet you, perhaps you can advise us with your great experience. You see, we have our own dragon to slay, just that well, it’s not a dragon. It’s more of a flaming… chicken.”
Olaf, who had up until now been swaying dangerously to the left and right suddenly stilled, sitting straight up in his chair and narrowing his eyes. It seemed that the drunken state had, to a certain extent, been part of the character.
“There’s a lot of creatures in these plains when you know how to look,” Olaf said evasively, blue eyes flicking to the left and right, as if checking that nobody had overheard.
“Do share,” Jin replied calmly.
Olaf slapped a hand on the table, palm up.
“Information first,” Xin Erwa said in a bored voice as she crossed her arms and looked at the ceiling, exhuding pure boredom.
“I never seen either of you, you ain’t got no cred,” Olaf snorted, spitting to the side, furthering besmirching the tavern floor.
“It's because you don’t know us that we’re more trustworthy,” Jin said coldly. “You don’t look like you’re regularly surrounded by people of particularly notable character.” He slipped a hand inside his robe and gently laid a small spirit stone on the table. His finger remained on the stone, while Olaf’s eyes tracked it.
“You think the Dragonborn cares for a mere spirit stone?” he blustered.
Xin Erwa interrupted, putting a hand on the table, palm up. A small flame erupted above her hand. No bigger than a fingernail, but absolutely white and hot enough to immediately raise the temperature of the booth to unbearable levels. The table started smoking, at which point she extinguished it.
“I listened to your bullshit with some amount of curiosity as to when you would realise how retarded you sound taking your shitty story from an equally shitty but somehow widely distributed Illusion Room,” Xin Erwa said. “I’m not a patient woman, so I suggest you take the stone fast before we find other ways to motivate you.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” Olaf said solemnly while Jin raised a pained hand to his heart in the background. “This territory belongs to Big Boss. You mess around here and you’ll have much bigger issues than some flaming chicken.”
“I see we’re getting somewhere,” Xin Erwa said, sounding pleasant. “How about you take us to this big boss? He’s probably better informed than you anyway.”
“Can’t,” Olaf grunted, standing up and kicking aside the chair he’d been sitting on.
The tavern quieted as people started to take notice of the conflict.
“And why is that?” Xin Erwa asked in a dangerous tone of voice while Jin sighed and put aside his Spirit Stone.
“Cuz you’re standing in front of him,” Olaf growled, looking like, for all intents and purposes, like someone who didn’t see mount Tai even as it sat calmly in front of him.
Or well, not that calmly anymore. Xin Erwa snapped and the moment she did, so did Olaf’s head.
Perhaps only the helmet saved the man from immediate head explosion as his neck cracked back and he was flung away like a ragdoll to crash against a table, drinks spilling onto him.
The two burly men who’d been sharing a romantic evening glanced at each other and stood up to crack their fists.
Xin Erwa stopped hiding her cultivation. Or rather, revealed the part of it she wanted to reveal. Mid-stage core formation.
The two burly men shared a glance, nodded at each other, before interlocking their hands and walking out awkwardly alongside most other patrons.
Olaf grunted on top of the broken table, before slowly getting up.
“You should have listened to her man, she’s a psycho,” Jin told the unfortunate soul with a sigh.
The Dragonborn cracked his neck once and spat out a tooth as he swayed from right to left. He wiped at his mouth, hand coming away bloody. “Haven’t gotten hit that hard since that giant camp,” the man muttered quietly.
Jin turned towards Xin Erwa. “Just don’t burn down the village. Someone here must know something useful.”
Xin Erwa took slow steps towards Olaf, power rolling off of her like a waterfall.
Olaf for his part didn’t look too worried, which was the first sign things weren’t as simple as they seemed. Then he opened his mouth.
“Fus Ro Dah!” he shouted loudly, a visible wave of force exploding out of his mouth and rushing towards Xin Erwa like an air avalanche alongside two pairs of broken chairs and four mugs of ale.
For the woman’s part. She blinked. That was about it.
A moment later she was standing in front of Olaf, seemingly having teleported straight through the shout which Jin confusedly waved away with some of his qi.
Her fist blurred forward again, this time looking like it was going to go through the head instead of just against it.
Only, at the last moment, a glowing green shield suddenly appeared in front of the Dragonborn and a cloyingly powerful presence announced itself with an explosion of qi as its owner manifested into the room.
An old man with a white beard reaching to his feet and a green and red robe. There was a deep and wise look in his eyes as he held up a hand, easily counteracting Xin Erwa’s punch.
Jin stilled.
A nascent soul cultivator. Here?
He readied himself for a quick evacuation as he wondered if he and Xin Erwa stood a chance by working together. Probably yes, but, this wasn’t worth the fight.
The old man looked at the scene in front of him with an unfathomable look in his eyes and opened his mouth as if about to say something profound.
The effect was promptly ruined as Jin’s brain deciphered the message.
“What do you think you’re doing to Big Boss!” the old man exclaimed in an angry but squeaky voice. “You think he saved the world from Alduin and got banished to the foundation establishment stage just to get bullied by a bunch of meanies!?”
Jin froze.
There was only one answer he could give to that.
“Huh?”
-/-
A few minutes of an incredibly confusing conversation later the now quartet was sitting at a table together while the irate but happy tavern owner counted the spirit stones Jin had handed over to keep the man quiet.
He had too many of those anyway. Whatever.
“Big Bro, I can’t believe I finally get to meet you!” Olaf exclaimed very happily, showing off his gap-toothed smile as he slapped Jin on the back. “Skyrim is my favourite thing in the world. It even helped me develop some spells when I had no other guidance!”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Jin muttered awkwardly before shaking his head. “But let’s get to the situation at hand.” He pointed at the nascent soul stage grandpa who was happily drinking an orange juice while drawing a chicken on the table. “Let me get this straight. Your teacher, the venerable senior Zhìhuì Huàshēn, broke through the nascent cultivation stage but lost his memories in the process.”
“Yup!” Olaf exclaimed. “I had to raise him all the way from an infant. You would not believe the tantrums I’ve had to deal with!”
“I’m a good boy!” Zhihui exclaimed while drawing his chicken, tongue sticking out of his mouth. An incredible contrast with the grey beard. The presence of the nascent soul cultivator continued crushing the tavern’s atmosphere, although the effect was mildened by the ridiculousness of the situation.
“And so you actually came here in search of the phoenix as well,” Jin continued.
Olaf scratched his head. “Well, Master wasn’t really available to teach me lots of stuff after his, uh, regression. I kinda had to figure things out myself. Heard phoenix tears could heal many ailments so here I am!” he paused and hung his head. “It’s been three years now,” he complained quietly. “If I didn’t get that Illusion Room from the weirdo muttering about the revolution or whatever I would have nothing to work on either. At least that gave me some direction.”
Jin’s world spun. “It’s not really a cultivation manual,” he said with a dry mouth.
“Didn’t have much of a choice, did I?” Olaf said somewhat sarcastically. “Not all of us have sect libraries full of cultivation methods to try.”
“Fair,” Jin said.
“It won’t work,” Xin Erwa interrupted with a bored voice.
“What?” Olaf replied angrily, still having beef with the girl.
“The phoenix tears. They can heal physical wounds to a miraculous degree, sure, but it has nothing to do with the mind,” Xin Erwa said. “If anything you need some water from the River Styx and combine it with the Qi Essence of the Yata Mirror of Great Reversal.”
“You think that reversing the memory-cleansing effect of the water would have memory restorative properties?” Jin asked curiously.
“Yes.”
“Where do I find this river!?” Olaf exclaimed, jumping up and banging his fist on the table.
A small smile hushed across Xin Erwa’s face. “Go to hell,” she told the boy.
The qi thickened as the venerable Elder looked up angrily.
“It’s in the underworld,” Jin quickly interrupted. “Probably you can get some of the water in an auction house though. I know it's an ingredient required by some yin cultivators.”
“And the mirror?” Olaf asked dubiously. “Reflection Mirror Yata Great Flow?”
“Last I heard it’s been bound as a dharmic treasure by the Great Demon Zgzueibrwierzergdjlkshch. He took it off the corpse of the Sect Leader of the Heavenly Sword Sect three generations ago. Hasn’t been seen since though, probably recovering in the Demon Dimension,” Xin Erwa said helpfully. “So, I guess, also go to hell?”
Olaf hung his head.
“Although, I guess if you want a simpler solution, this guy’s sect focuses on Mind Cultivation and memory storage. Maybe they’ll have a solution,” Xin Erwa suddenly said dismissively.
Jin paused. Memory restoration. “I mean, maybe. After all, memories probably don’t just disappear? Right? They’re in there somewhere?”
“What will it take?” Olaf asked seriously. “Master took me in at my lowest, right after my cultivation was destroyed by my previous sect when I beat the sect master’s descendant in a spar. I would do anything to restore his faculties.”
“Help us find the phoenix,” Jin said decisively. “I don’t mind taking you back to my sect and trying to figure out a solution.” He looked at the venerable Elder. “At least he has time, the ageing process at that cultivation stage… It shouldn’t be too problematic.”
“I know where it is,” Olaf muttered. “It’s just bloody impossible to get that thing without getting grudged.”
“Leave that to me,” Jin said. “Where is it?”
Olaf rolled his eyes. “Where else?” he asked rhetorically. “It’s in the bloody volcano of course, alongside the rest of the most dangerous monsters in this region.”
Jin sighed.
Information, at last.
“We can make a plan tomorrow,” Xin Erwa suddenly interrupted, standing up. “I have some sleep to catch up on.”
Jin nodded along.
As a mind cultivator he could find rest without sleeping. The night could instead be spent working on Monster Hunter.
Another day, another step.