Daniel Newwyn
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[I am a Table] Chapter 37
🕑 Added 2025-03-02 17:56:36 +0000 UTCThe least bad thing about being stunned was that Blorbo’s senses numbed for about thirty minutes. It wasn’t the worst feeling in the world, since when you couldn’t feel, nothing could hurt him. But the table knew it was only a matter of time until fate hit him with another idiotic trial that he’d never asked for.
And the first thing Blorbo felt when his vision returned was the bumpy sensation of being wheeled through town.
Not another day of being carted around like some kind of cabbage-delivering prisoner.
That day was the first sunless day in weeks, but Lena was ever cheerful with her insufferably jolly hum and the occasional random swap of her him for no particular reason. She saw a vaguely familiar figure from afar and waved her hand excitedly. “Oh! Miss Curly Kale Lady!”
Blorbo squinted. Ah, it was that customer from a while ago. The one who passionately debated the superior curl density of different kale varieties with Lena.
“Lena, dear!” the woman gasped, clasping her hands together. “I was hoping to run into you! I have a most urgent matter!”
[SIDEQUEST AVAILABLE—A Farmer’s Woe]
Objective: ??
Reward: ??
Prerequisite: ??
Failure: ??
Huh?
A quest?
On her?
He tried to click it.
Nothing happened.
Yes. Of course. I’m stunned.
“Tell me, do you have any idea how to keep wild deer from eating my crops? I swear they’ve grown bolder this season!” The kale lady asked.
“Ohhh, that’s rough,” Lena said, tapping her chin. “Have you tried yelling at them really loudly?”
And of course that would be her first idea.
Their conversation came to a halt after the lady remembered she forgot to feed a pet turtle and jogged off. As Lena started walking, someone else called out.
“Lena.”
Oh no.
Marza.
Blorbo was wheeled around just in time to see her stepping into view. And what a sight she was now. Gone was the plain merchant attire, Marza now wore an embroidered bodice with pearls stitched along the sleeves and a delicate golden chain resting against her collarbone. Her hair was pulled back in braids and fastened with jeweled pins.
She looked like an entirely different person, but that bitter voice was still unmistakable.
Lena blinked. “Wow. Fancy. It’s great spending money after selling off other people’s property.”
Marza gave her a wicked half-grin. “Oh, don’t you wish the table had landed on your stall instead? There’s a specific smell someone gives off when they’re jealous.”
Lena just crossed her arms. “Not really. I just feel like vomiting standing in front of a wedding cake.”
Marza’s eye twitched, but she maintained her composed smile. “And you still look like someone who sells cabbages.”
“Sorry I have moral and don’t take other people’s stuff as my own.”
“And I don’t fail at every single thing in my life. I’m not the fruit monger who had to sell my own cart and I’m not the one with a paladinborn husband who isn’t a paladin.” Marza let the words hang in the air, just enough for the gears to turn in Lena’s head.
“You! You’ve gone too far!”
Then—
[QUEST AVAILABLE—Marza’s Grand Scheme (1)]
Objective: ??
Reward: ??
Prerequisite: ??
Failure: ??
ANOTHER QUEST?!
Before he could even attempt to click it—
He was wheeled forward again, straight into the crowded market with a speed he’d never felt before.
And that’s when everything spiraled into madness.
Because every single person had a quest floating above their head.
Every. Single. One.
Some were glowing gold, some flickered ominously, some were even stacked on top of each other.
And then, the final straw—
[QUEST AVAILABLE]
On top of a chicken.
WHAT THE HELL?! EVEN THE CHICKEN HAS A QUEST?!
And he couldn’t click on any of them no matter how much he tried. He was stunned.
Yeah nah. The system is just playing with me at this point. Ha. Ha. So funny.
Might as well spend this time thinking about why that gloved mage knew about him. Something he should’ve done yesternight, before being pulled into all this nonsense.
Could it be possible that the mage was some kind of mind reader? No, that would be ridiculous, and way too OP for this world. He was just a shady, four-gloved weirdo. But what if he wasn’t a mage at all? What if he was some kind of psychoanalyst disguised as a mage, probing into the souls of everyday objects like Blorbo?
Then, what’s with the knives?
What if the gloved mage wasn’t stealing knives for power at all? What if he was trying to create an army of sentient furniture? Maybe the mage was after the power of a Paladinborn chair army! It would make perfect sense! Rob’s golden eyes were the key to unlocking the mystical furniture uprising!
That gloved mage! He’s planning to build an army of paladin-imbued furniture! He was trying to raise a rebellion! Tables, chairs, bookshelves, all imbued with the essence of Paladins! They would all rise, all led by the mighty Blorbo, the table who would overthrow the tyrants of this cruel world!
The more Blorbo thought about it, the more he became convinced that his entire life was leading to this moment. He could be the one to unite the furniture of the world! They would show humanity the power of the sentient tables, and they’d take back what was theirs.
Wait… I misremembered. The knives are Anders’, not Rob’s. Back to the drawing board…
Maybe the mage was after the power of a Archmage chair army!
Then—
Plonk.
Plonk?
Blorbo’s deep thoughts were interrupted by the sound of cabbages dropping on his head.
What the?
He tried to shake himself back into awareness, but the moment another cabbage landed, he realized something was off. The cabbages were stacked too high, and it felt like they were on the verge of toppling over. He wanted to lean, to adjust them, to somehow stabilize them, but he couldn’t. His surface was locked.
I can’t move.
The cabbages wobbled, and for a moment, Blorbo imagined them tumbling to the floor. And Lena was nowhere to be seen. He couldn’t move his field of vision neither.
This is not good.
“Zis is not good,” then he heard a voice.
