Open Your Quest Log

The dwarf Mapra sat on the shoulders of the ogre, staring blankly at the sky above his head.

No, there's no sky there, just a sullen gray, like peppered buffalo milk--it looks a little weird, and it tastes even worse, like this forest.

Yes, this forest is even weirder. Mapra saw an unremarkable vine that sucked a dog-sized rabbit into jerky; saw a pair of pointed shoes lying like garbage on a tree root, occasionally moving , as if something was still wearing it; a bird with a skeleton face on its wings was even seen following them all the way, in the depths of the mist, not far or near.

When they go, the birds fly; when they stop, the birds also drop their wings. Until a pair of withered claws hidden among the dense leaves dragged the bird that followed them for some unknown reason into the shade of the tree. After a messy flutter, it was as quiet as death...

According to what Mapra knew about the other people in the team, several other people in the "dirty novel" should have no idea what happened in the depths of the fog.

Yes, they didn't notice. These people are all excellent adventurers, each with their own good and outstanding abilities, but perception is obviously not one of them.

But the dwarf believed that the Nord, who was very good at telling stories, must have noticed the many things that happened around them but were hidden by the fog, just like him.

Originally, Mapra thought that although the Nord's perception was not bad, it might still be a small distance away from what he thought. But through further contact in the past two days, he found that the Nord's perception is actually not worse than his own, and may even be slightly stronger than himself in some aspects.

Whenever something happened in the depths of the fog, the Nord would stop and look around carefully before moving on. But the Nords didn't say anything about these things. It should be inferred that there would be no danger, so they would be too lazy to talk about it.

Mapra speculated according to her own thoughts.

"More and more hoarfrost remains in the traces." A soft and angular voice reached the dwarf's ears, it was Estelle's unique voice, "It seems that we are getting closer and closer to it. Yes." The half-elf said with a smile.

When ordinary people hear Estelle's voice, they will only feel that the handsome guy's voice is very pleasant, but Mapra can hear something special hidden in it. Yes, the voice was really nice, but it gave Mapra the feeling that it was like a nightingale singing in the noon sun, full of all kinds of split contradictions, just like Estelle's blood - a half-breed, To humans, he looks like an elf; to an elves, he looks like a human.

If you want to choose the most normal person from the 'dirty novel' team, Mapra thinks that person is undoubtedly himself. (Here, 'human' and 'human' are not the same word in common language, the former is more used to refer to intelligent creatures in general)

Yes, it is me.

Mapra knows that other people may not agree with this judgment, but that's only because these people don't know them well.

Estelle is easygoing and eccentric; Moglock is a temperless ogre trained by a mage, and never cares about anything other than food; and Mage Will, please, he is a mage, and mage does not normal people!

And Mapra, he thought he was just an ordinary dwarf assassin who couldn't be more ordinary, that's all. As for not like to talk, not like to talk, this is completely due to the occupation! Which assassin have you seen who likes to chatter? Hmm, that's not right. It should be said, which normal assassin have you seen who likes to rhetoric?

Assassins are supposed to be cold-hearted. They should always wear a stern face and keep strangers away. At least that's what Mapra's master told him.

"You're born to be an assassin!" Mapra still remembers his master telling him so often, "because your mother gave you a bitter face. You always look like you're hated and weathered. , allows you to win the respect and fear of the people around you easily through the profession of assassin!"

At first, Mapra didn't quite understand the hidden meaning of his master's words. But when he learned something and started to go out alone, he gradually realized the true meaning of it.

Dark and outdated leather armor, with a dark dagger with a matte finish on his waist, there is always a look of indifference and vicissitudes on his face, which made Mapra when he was just a fledgling and didn't understand anything. No one dared to provoke.

Even though he was a small dwarf, when he raised his head and looked at the tall men with his deadly eyes, they were all scared. These big men within the range of his gaze will involuntarily lower their heads and dodge their eyes, as if his eyes are like the 'gazing' of petrified lizards, with very powerful power.

Very few people dare to look at him, very few!

Not only that, no one dared to take the task that Mapra wanted to take on, and the remuneration was often 20% higher than the agreed upon. Even those city sheriffs who are invincible in the city, have a good background, and often oppress other adventurers, only whispered to him, try not to cause trouble...

But none of this was done deliberately by Mapra. Yes, he was born with the honor of such bitterness and hatred, no strangers to enter. He doesn't want to, but what can he do?

His mother gave him seven brothers, and Mapra is the youngest. Each of his older brothers was enthusiastic and cheerful, curious and impulsive, typical of the dwarf race.

His brothers sometimes fight to take care of him, and sometimes they fight to avoid taking care of him. Whenever they huddled together, Mapra's mother looked on with a look of relief, sometimes softly cheering for her sons.

Perhaps in her opinion, sparring is more energetic.

But Mapra is different from his brothers. He's always been taciturn, and doesn't like this particular way of brooding to promote brotherhood.

Because he is the youngest, he can't beat anyone. Eating, sleeping, playing Doudou, no one cares what 'Doudou' thinks, so 'Doudou' must not be in a good mood every day...

But apart from that, Mapra thinks that he is normal - a relatively normal family (probably), a fairly normal occupation (probably), and a fairly normal personality (probably~www. readwn.com~ Doesn't that mean anything?

"Hey, what is that?" the dwarf heard his 'mount' ask in a urn-like voice.

Moglock should still have a few words to say, Mapra thought to himself. The whole sentence should be 'Hey, what is that, can I eat it? ’

Eating is the eternal theme in the ogre's mind, and Mapra knows his big partner very well.

The gnome looked in the direction of the ogre's finger and found a bush with red fruits. Those dark red berries are shaped a bit like gooseberries, but Mapra knows that gooseberries are summer berries, which should be the season before they bear fruit.

Outside the underground cave city where he used to live, there are large fields of gooseberries, and his mother would pick a lot of them in summer to make cakes, jams, and fruit wine. His brothers would fight each other after drinking too much fruit wine, beat him by the way...

"Adventurers in the Bay of Pigs call this berry 'ruby'," the Nord guide explained. "In the Misty Forest, it's actually quite easy to judge whether wild berries are edible. Blue and black berries are basically the same. All are edible, they are generally succulent and tasty; while the white or yellow berries are almost always poisonous, of all kinds, most of them deadly."

"Is the red one a good fruit?" The ogre is more concerned with the one in front of him.

"As for the red berries." The Nord smiled, with a hint of malice on his face, "Half of the species can be eaten directly, while the other half will kill you!"

Half and half? That's an interesting answer, the dwarf Mapra thought to himself as he glanced at the half-elf.

......