Daniel Newwyn
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[I am a Table] Chapter 54
🕑 Added 2025-03-16 18:40:09 +0000 UTCBlorbo was unceremoniously dropped into the corner of Ducaz’s room like a mere piece of filth that needed to be shoved into the most out-of-the-way spot possible. Rob and Lena’s room had been cramped enough with just the two of them and Tabby, so of course, Anders wasn’t going to let a table take up any precious space in his own quarters.
As Blorbo sat in the dark corner, he couldn’t help but curse his existence. The golden icon, gleaming tauntingly in the corner of his vision, didn’t help. "Consume a sausage," it beckoned, practically glowing with the promise of infinite glory, or at least a good chunk of EXP, Cabbage Points, and a brand-new skill.
I’m right here! The Chamber of Sausages is right there! What do I have to do to get someone to eat it?
Yet Ducaz, the very man who seemed to eye it like a starving vulture, hadn’t made a single move.
Instead, the rogue had done the one thing rogues were not supposed to do. He had gone to sleep.
Are you kidding me?! He was wide awake, staring into the darkness, waiting for Ducaz to make some move, to scheme something stupid, to at least sit on him so Blorbo could finish the quest and maybe level up enough to become somewhat useful.
But the man refused to move. The man hadn't so much as moved from his position since crawling into bed.
Blorbo stared at the clock in the opposite corner, seething with boredom. Was this how it was going to be? Was he doomed to spend the night in this stupid corner, with nothing but the map location glowing in his vision?
If this was how it was going to be, he might as well cancel the quest. I’ll just click it, and it’ll disappear, no more stupid glowing icon!
Wait. How do I cancel a quest?
He tried clicking every part of the icon. Nothing. Then, he tried dragging it to the side, closing the icon like a window .Nothing. Maybe he could swipe it away like he was on some kind of rolling pin? Nope.
Why? Why why why?
He even clicked on the Failure option to find a failure condition. There was no such thing.
The icon wasn’t going anywhere, and there was no “cancel” button.
Blorbo froze. What if... it’s stuck here forever?
At exactly 3:00 AM, Ducaz sprang up.
What?
The man had been dead to the world just seconds ago, and now he was wide awake, rubbing his hands together like some devious mastermind about to hatch an evil plan. Blorbo could practically imagine the “muahahaha” echoing through the room.
Ducaz snuck out of bed, moved with such stealth, looked over his shoulder once. Then he was out the door.
Okay, okay, he's moving. He's up. He’s going for the sausage. Blorbo’s heart leapt with a surge of hope.
But no.
Instead of heading toward the magical sausage, Ducaz tiptoed toward the window. He threw a quick glance around, then slowly, silently, pulled open the window and slipped outside with the grace of a cat burglar.
Wait—what? Where are you going? What about the sausage? You’ve literally been eyeing it all day, and now you sneak out at 3 in the morning?
Less than an hour later, the rogue returned. The man slipped through the door with a smug, satisfying, self-gratifying grin as he carried a huge linen bag that was definitely not with him when he left. Blorbo was too eager for something to happen to think much about how Ducaz had managed to acquire it.
Ducaz made his way over to the bed, placing the bag down with care to not make a sound. Then, one by one, he began to pull out his hauls.
First, a completely intact goat skull—not the clean, pretty kind one might use for decoration. No, this one still had remnants of fur and muscle on it, like it had been pulled from the very recently deceased.
What?
Next came a small barrel of something that smelled unmistakably like wet leather. Blorbo wasn’t sure where Ducaz even found that.
Then, a vintage-looking vase, which, on closer inspection, turned out to be a garden gnome with a hollowed-out body.
Then, a full-sized cartwheel.
Is he summoning a demon?
But, the final item was the one Blorbo had been waiting for. Ducaz held up a sausage on a wooden skewer that was still steaming hot. Blorbo could feel his metaphorical taste buds tingling in anticipation.
Oh yeah! Eat it! Put it in your mouth! Eat!
Ducaz took a gigantic bite of the sausage, then chewed happily. Blorbo waited. He waited so long. Surely now, the quest would be completed.
Nothing happened.
What?
Blorbo's screen remained stubbornly empty. The diamond icon was still there. No EXP, no Cabbage Points, no new skill. Nothing.
Ducaz looked at the now sausageless skewer with a proud smirk. “Ahhh, there it is! A good sausage makes all the difference, doesn’t it?”
But why… How? Explain to me. EXPLAIN TO ME!
“Damn it taste good,” Ducaz talked to himself like a book narrator who really wanted to get a point across for no good reason. “After I saw that sausage in the chamber, I wanted one so bad. I had to go out there and buy one from a vendor. Best decision of the night.”
You BOUGHT a DIFFERENT sausage? You’re a THIEF! Why did you decide to be ethical NOW? You stole an entire cartwheel, but had to BUY a sausage?
Arrrrrrgggghhhhhh! Ducaz! You are a son of a harlot!
“But my craving is yet to be satisfied,” Ducaz muttered to himself. Then, he proceeded to reached for the goat skull, the barrel of wet leather, and the garden gnome, then set them in a straight line. With a quick glance at the bed where he had set them down, Ducaz muttered something under his breath.
What was he doing now?
He then repositioned the goat skull in the center of the room, then carefully positioned the gnome on its side, as if it were the sentinel of an altar. He opened the barrel, and the suffocating smell of something aking to wet rat skin assaulted Blorbo’s smell senses. He didn’t seem to care as he ran his hands through it, murmuring under his breath.
Ducaz was speaking in a strange tone that was too small to hear, almost like he was casting a spell, and Blorbo’s mind started to piece things together.
The name of the skill materialized over his head.
[Sacrifices to the GOATs—Rare C-Ranked Exchange Spell—Level 7]
Whoosh.
An arc of energy surged through the room, and the barrel, the gnome, and the skull all glowed. A soft, swirling vortex of cerulean energy enveloped Ducaz, curling around him like tendrils. The objects he’d gathered levitated, and for a brief moment, the rogue was completely obscured, swallowed by the blinding lights coming from the objects.
Just as suddenly, the swirl of light vanished, leaving Ducaz standing there. Partially transparent. He was invisible, but not entirely. He was like a ghost.
What just happened? Did Ducaz actually create a cloak of invisibility? Half-invisibility? What the hell? How is being HALF invisible going to help you?
Without saying another word, Ducaz quietly snuck toward the door and disappeared into the hallway, leaving Blorbo alone, still trying to process what he had just witnessed.
Ten minutes later, a notification appeared before him.
[SIDEQUEST COMPLETED—Put the Sausage Inside]
Reward: +50 EXP, + 5 CP, Skill: [Consume].
