[Shrubley, the Monster Adventurer] Chapter 131 – Dawn of the First Day III (Patreon)

The mayor waxed poetically about Shrubley and Smudge’s actions. How they valiantly defended the town despite not owing any allegiances to it, and then the mayor’s own top hat was passed around for people to donate to their reward.

Shrubley found the attention surprising and a little overwhelming, but he wasn’t about to say no to rewards. With the Countess’ funds locked down, and Clocktown operating on a very different currency, his adventuring party could make great use of them.

An older man elbowed his way into the ring of space around Shrubley and handed back the boxes. “Sorry, sorry,” he said, taking off his hat and bowing to the mayor, then Shrubley and Smudge. “But this here pink hero gave me some packages to hold while he fought that fearsome monster. I just wanted to make sure they got it back all right.” He bowed and backed away, melting into the crowd.

The mayor’s eyes glittered with mirth. “Oh-ho! Doing community work for our good town as well? Golly-gee, that is impressive, ain’t it folks?”

The crowd cheered and hollered. The hat was passed back to the mayor, who added his own purse before offering the thing to Shrubley. It clinked and chimed with musical notes as clock coins moved around in the overflowing hat.

But something odd happened that Shrubley did not even notice.

When coins spilled to the ground, they were picked up and added to a second hat. Nobody tried to swipe them from the ground. Not a soul tried to steal, and nearly every person gave something.

Some people didn’t have money, so they gave trinkets, jewels, even rings.

By the time the mayor’s hat was finally passed back to him, it was joined by two other hats overflowing with coins in the shape of pointed clock hands.

“All this is yours,” the mayor told the two. “With no strings attached, I might add. However… if you would see it in your hearts to help us, we would be eternally grateful.”

Shrubley stared at the mayor, then at the townsfolk who all looked on with bated breath. He began to suspect why the jovial people of Clocktown were so enthusiastic about heroes.

Smudge opened up his little backpack and dumped half the coins into it, then nudged Shrubley. When Shrubley did not take the coins, he dumped the rest into his backpack.

“What could we do for you, mayor?” Shrubley asked, doing his best impression of a high Grade adventurer. He puffed out his round chest. The Adventurers Guild badge gleamed orange with a bronze edge.

The mayor glanced at it, but didn’t seem moved by it. Instead, he looked into Shrubley’s eyes. That seemed far more interesting to the man, which confused Shrubley.

Everybody knew of the goodness of the Adventurers Guild, and yet this man was not moved by his status within the Guild. Instead, he was more interested in Shrubley as a person.

That had rarely happened in Shrubley’s life.

It immediately made him want to help the mayor and the people of Clocktown.

“You see, Shrubley, Smudge,” he said, lacing his hands over his expansive middle. “The good people of Clocktown only appear rarely. You may have noticed that our town, despite seeming old and established, shows up on no maps.”

Shrubley took out his [Magical Map]. It was still blank. He turned it around and showed it to the mayor.

“Yes, you see, we are not originally from here.” He frowned, his gloriously waxed mustache wriggling about as he tried to think of how to explain. “There are times that… a confluence occurs within the currents of mana on this Shard. We come looking for a hero who will deliver us from the Vile Workshop’s clutches.”

“That is where the golem was from,” Shrubley said, remembering.

“Yes, indeed. The Vile Workshop has been the sandy grit in our clockwork for some time now. Every time we try to find heroes who may defeat it, they find villains to counter them. And even when we do not, they find a way to harm us. Oh, don’t look so worried, my boy! We rebuild. We strive and march on, but it would be nice to stay in one place long enough to call it home.”

Shrubley looked around at all the pleading, hopeful faces. He did not have it in him to deny their request. The people had been nothing but kind and forthcoming ever since he arrived. At least, to his knowledge. It was possible they were hiding things, but Shrubley considered it best not to assume the worst in anyone, whether they were human or monster.

Shrubley raised a forestalling hand. “Before I answer, I must ask something important, if that is all right?”

The mayor nodded.

“Why is it you cannot defeat the Vile Workshop yourselves?” Shrubley asked plainly. “With your marvelous power over time itself, it seems… an almost easy feat.”

“If only things were so simple,” the mayor said. “We are bound to Clocktown, and the Vile Workshop lurks beyond our reach. Even if it were not, our power is fixed and static. Just the same as we cannot age, we cannot advance.”

“Pyuu?!”

“I agree with Smudge. That is shocking indeed!” Shrubley said.

The shopkeeper Eiran stepped forth, clasping her hands together. “Some of us are tired, Shrubley,” she said, eyes shining with unshed tears. “Terribly tired. And we miss our loved ones dearly.”

“What… happened to your loved ones?” Shrubley asked, not grasping the implication.

She smiled sadly. “They passed on. Just as some of us should have long since. Bound to Clocktown, we are forever separated until a hero of your caliber vanquishes the Vile Workshop. We are stuck. The Vile Workshop makes sure we can never leave. Never move on.”

As a shrub, and as somebody who had a strong tie with Life essence, such a thing struck Shrubley as very wrong. Necromancy was just life in another form, but unceasing life? Especially the unasked-for kind was nothing short of cruelty made manifest.

“I am sorry this has happened to you,” Shrubley said.

“Pyuu…”

Eiran looked hopefully at him. “Does this mean you will help us? You will face the Vile Workshop?”

Shrubley nodded. “I will do whatever I can within my power to vanquish this foul force, keeping you against your will. Should you wish to pass on, you should be able to do so.”

A few gentle sobs broke out among the people gathered.

The mayor cleared his throat. “Why don’t you come inside to my office, boys?” he said softly. “We have more to discuss.”

Eiran looked up at the mayor as he ascended the 12 steps to the clock tower’s door. “Father… please help them.”

The mayor looked over his shoulder at the young woman and nodded.

“Do not worry about the packages,” Eiran told Shrubley and Smudge. “I will see them delivered. This task is far beneath you.”

Before Shrubley could tell her that he did not mind, the mayor ushered them into the clock tower that was his seat of office and up several sets of stairs until they reached a circular room with 12 windows spaced evenly around the curved walls.

The mayor sat behind his large desk and motioned for the two monsters to sit. “I know this must be a lot to take in, boys. Trust me.” He sighed and set his empty top hat down on the tabletop.

Shrubley’s eyes tracked it with something close to avarice. It was a very fancy hat. With clocks fastened to the silk band above the rim, and a few sprockets and gears elsewhere.

It reminded him of the various shiny brass gears of all sorts of sizes adorning the inside of the clock tower. They clinked away pleasantly in the background, likely operating the tower itself.

“I need to be frank with you boys,” the mayor said softly. “I have given this quest before, and always the heroes have failed. I do not ask you lightly, and I never ask a visitor unless they show a willingness to aid us, but we are desperate. We go on because there is no other option, but not a soul wishes the torment would stop.”

“You look so happy though,” Shrubley said softly.

“Because that is our curse,” the mayor said with a sad smile. Fat tears gathered at the edges of his blue eyes and ran down into his ivory mustache. “We are bound to this place so long as the Vile Workshop stays. Once, it was our choice to come or go as we pleased, but ever since the Vile Workshop’s appearance…”

“Pyuu?”

The mayor looked curiously at Smudge.

“Please allow me to translate,” Shrubley said, troubled by this revelation. “Smudge is asking if acting jovial is your… coping mechanism?”

The mayor chuckled and wiped at his eyes with a linen handkerchief. “I suppose you could call it that, yes. I must confess, I am not sure whether it is magic that does it or if we are just doing our best to soldier on. As your insightful little friend put it, we may simply be coping because when the choices are to laugh or cry, all some of us can do is laugh.”

“When did the Vile Workshop first appear?” Shrubley asked. His leaves were tingling. Something was off about this, more than what the mayor was telling him.

Not that he disbelieved the mayor in any way, but he felt like the Vile Workshop was a new addition. Something that tormented these poor folks. It sounded a bit too much like a Dungeon, both the town and the Vile Workshop.

The Dungeon Dimension did not operate on normal time. Could this Vile Workshop be the last Dungeon? It might have been able to terrorize these people for years, despite the scant few days it has been for Shrubley.

Inwardly, Shrubley was torn, though he wished that was not the case. His Quest for the Dungeons led him here, and yet they could not find the Dungeon. He did not know whether Clocktown was occupying the same space, and the afflicted Dungeon was inaccessible as a result, or if it was something else entirely.

Magic and essences made for many, many possibilities.

“Time is hard to judge in Clocktown,” the mayor told him. “The Vile Workshop first arrived when I was but a boy. The previous mayor rallied the townsfolk well and, using our unique powers, we were able to keep the Vile Workshop at bay. However, it has us… contained, I suppose you could call it. Here, let me show you.”

The mayor got up from his seat and went to a bookshelf. He pulled on a tome and the whole shelf slid to the side to reveal a secret staircase.

Shrubley was so giddy with excitement at a hidden staircase that he nearly clapped his hands at the sight. A secret staircase! Just like I always wanted to see! I should like to have one of my own someday. He glanced at the hat. And a hat as fine as that.

“This way, please,” the mayor said, leading them up a final set of stairs that ended in a large observatory with a glass domed roof and a massive telescope that took up much of the space.

An old man in a blue robe looked over from the seat next to the telescope where he had apparently been dozing until just a few moments ago.

“Oron,” the mayor said by way of greeting. “I would like you to show our young friends the truth about Clocktown.”

The old man stroked his white beard thoughtfully. “Oh, aye?” He cackled, showing his many missing teeth. “Another pair, eh? Hope you don’t go running away like the last ones!” He cackled again at his own joke.

“Don’t mind him. Oron is quite harmless. He is our astronomer and was the first to discover our… dilemma, and that of the Vile Workshop.”

“Just look through this here view port, young masters. One at a time, one at a time!”

Smudge hopped back to leave Shrubley look first. “I… do not understand what I am seeing,” Shrubley admitted.

“Do you see that strange curvature, that shine?” the astronomer asked, his voice a barely restrained giggle.

“Yes, it looks like glass.”

“Too right! Now, I am going to make an adjustment. Keep watching…”

Shrubley watched as the image shifted as if it were pulling away. He saw the strange curvature resolve into a glassy orb, and then he saw through the orb. He gasped. “That seems highly improbable!”