The morning was cool, and dew was thick on the grass. A chilly breeze blew from the north. However, Crease broke into a nervous sweat. He looked towards the lords' gallery, trying to catch a significant person's eye. He succeeded.
A soldier-type, mustached man sat in the center. He turned to the old man and nodded. Pete was too far away to see the stranger's facial features.
Crease turned to Pete and pleaded, "Boy, I let you into the trials at the last minute, thinking you'd fail. It was a huge mistake, and I regret it. Now I am in neck-deep trouble with the crowd and the lords. Therefore, you'll have to hit the mark again… Please find the bullseye, or the Sheriff will have both our skins!"
Pete sighed. He had been enjoying his newfound abilities, but the game was committed to throwing hurdles his way. 'Why can't they just give me the rewards right away?' he asked himself. 'Every goddamn quest has to be complicated!'
Ding!
[ Loading Quest… ]
[ Auspicious Archery ]
[ Completion Reward: 30💰, Reputation +30 ]
[ Failure Penalty: Lose index, middle, and ring fingers, -1000💰 ]
[ Failure Title: Four-fingered fraud ]
'What? I stand to lose six fingers if I fail the quest?' the boy asked himself.
"This is ridiculous!" he complained to Crease. "Isn't the 1000 gold penalty enough?"
"I'm afraid you don't have a choice." The old man looked genuinely sorry.
Pete took a deep breath. 'There should be something I should get out of this extra quest.'
[ Perfect Gene: Level 1 ]
"Okay," he said, turning to Crease. "I will do it. I will hit the bullseye and show your lords what archery truly is. But I want something in return."
"Anything!" the old man replied, eyeing the arena anxiously. The crowd had started getting more restless. A few had climbed the fences, poised to rush into the park if their demands weren't met soon. The lords' gallery was also brimming with frowns and rebukes.
Crease had been a crier of Nottingham for the last thirty years but had never faced such an odd situation before. Who was the strange kid? And how did he hit the bullseye on his first try?
The Champion trials were a farce set up by the Sheriff to appease the common folk. He never intended to honor anybody. The rules dictated that every contender had to shell out a thousand gold if they failed to complete the challenge. The penalty amount fattened the Sheriff's pockets. Crease received a one percent cut.
Therefore, the Sheriff intentionally arranged for an impossible challenge in the trials.
However, after Pete's antics completed the challenge, things went south. The Sheriff would be furious with Crease for spoiling his plan.
On the other hand, the crowd was about to riot. If the boy missed the bullseye the second time, it would be pandemonium.
"Anything," Crease assured the miraculous boy. "I'll do anything."
"Introduce me to that girl," Pete pointed to the muscular female contender. "I want to ask her out for a drink."
The old man looked puzzled for a moment. All the boy wanted was some pussy? He sighed. Young lads were always predictable. "Err.. that's it? I can do that! Speak to her on your behalf. Just don't miss the bullseye! I beg you!"
Pete smiled and patted Crease's shoulder. He turned and gave the sinewy girl another look. She eyed him curiously. 'Did she hear me negotiating with Crease?'
[ Quest Accepted ]
The boy unstrung and restrung his bow. His movements were swifter and cleaner this time. Satisfied with the preparation, he raised the weapon to his eye level.
Pete reached into the quiver and, instead of one, retrieved three arrows.
[ Courage +1 ]
Crease, who had been backing away, stopped in his tracks. "What are you doing, boy?" he demanded, visibly panicking. "Why did you draw three arrows?" He instantly regretted placing his faith in the stranger.
Pete smirked and ignored the old man. Multiple crosshairs appeared in his vision as soon as he nocked the arrows. The boy focused his eyes on three targets this time instead of one. The crosshairs locked on three bullseyes belonging to three different targets.
Pete smelled the air and gauged the blowing breeze.
[ 2.3 mph ]
And he let loose.
Zipitt! The arrows shot out together, diverging in three directions.
Plick! Plock! Thwack!
Each arrow had found its bullseye!
The audience watched the feat open-mouthed.
Crease had been holding his breath all this time. He exhaled and jumped in joy. "Magnificent!" he screamed. The crowd joined him, whistling and hooting praises.
"Fantastic!"
"Bravo!"
"Rob, the sharpshooter!"
"Cheers!"
"Our champion!"
"The next Sheriff!"
"Praise the King!"
Ding!
[ Auspicious Archery ] [ Completed! ]
[ Completion Reward- 30💰, Reputation +30 ] [ Rewarded! ]
[ Your peripheral vision has increased to 210 degrees! ]
[ New Titles: Expert Marksman, Rob the Sharpshooter ]
[ Archery: Level 3 ]
[ New Skill Unlocked: Versatile Archer Lvl 1 ]
Ding!
[ User Level Up! ]
[ Robin Hood Lvl 3 ]
[ HP 3000 ] [ MP 1500 ]
[ Dexterity has increased to 300 ]
[ Wealth: 50💰 ]
The world narrowed into an ultra-widescreen view again. 'Another game cutscene?' Pete wondered, trying to digest his sudden break of success. 'Does that mean I have crossed a particular stage in the game?'
The crowd jumped over the fences and rushed in. They came at Pete with congratulations and praises. They patted his back and tousled his hair. Young, bosomy girls kissed him all over. Strong arms picked him up and bounced him in the air.
Pete was surprised by the sudden celebration and love. He found himself grinning.
In a few minutes, the rejoicing died down, and the crowd began to leave. The Sheriff had arranged food and drinks for the commoners at the park's south end. After the unnerving trials, it was time for grubs and cups.
As the crowd retreated, Pete looked for the pretty, muscular girl. He couldn't let his potential date get away. Unfortunately, she had not stayed back to congratulate him and was already off the park.
Pete turned to go after her but felt a firm grip on his shoulder. The boy turned around and saw a heavily mustached face looking down on him.
The stranger was balding, but his body was robust and brawny, much like a seasoned soldier. "Hello, young man," he said gruffly with a mustached smile. "That was an exemplary archery display, unlike anything I have ever seen."
"Hello," Pete replied, unsure of the man's identity. "Err… Thank you, sir." Behind the stranger, Crease stood, cowering in reverence. Sir Guy of Gisbourne and his sister, Elaine, approached from the left, beaming at Pete.
[ Warning! ] [ Boss Character has arrived ]
"You must already know who I am," the stranger boomed, patting his shoulder. "I am the Sheriff of Nottingham."