You know, of everyone in the land, you could be forgiven for thinking the Queen has the easiest job. All she really seems to have to do is sit and wave at folks, cut the odd ribbon, and wear an assortment of hats while doing so - but if you think the Queen has an easy life, you'd be wrong. There's a lot more to being royalty than there seems. Only last week, we found ourselves waking up with a bump, talking to a dragon and being told we're the royalty her dragonship was expecting. One colossal case of mistaken identity later, and we'd been crowned the royal princess of the land in the real royal's stead - and these royal chores won't do themselves.
Now, a good royal knows that they need to see to their denizens welfare from time to time. Apparently, in Selphia, anyone who wants a princessly hand with their day to day problems can post a request in the appropriately named 'Request Box' outside the castle doors. From there, we can pick and choose which of the tasks are most befitting a monarch - which, purely coincidentally, are usually the ones that offer the best rewards. Even if said rewards are usually turnips.
Now, much like my lovable subjects, there's something a little bit strange about the request box. It talks. And it's name is Eliza. And no-one else can hear it speak. It seems that bump to my head was bigger than I thought...
Anywho, when they're not busy sending dubious glances my way when I mention talking to the post box, the talk of the town this week has been butterflies. Apparently, people are being brought back to the village clinic, injured and delirious, talking about... butterflies. And now the village seems to be in a state of insect-induced panic, begging their monarch to do something about the winged terrors that are supposedly stopping them visiting the nearby forest. Of course, none of them are brave enough to go and investigate themselves. Wusses.
So, short sword in hand, we head for the forest, bracing ourselves for a run in with the badass butterfly(or flies) that's got everyone so terrified... only to find a harmless herd of butterflies in every colour of the rainbow, fluttering around peacefully. A bit disappointed - both in the lack of killer butterflies, and in our villagers for clearly being delirious, we decide to trudge on - if only for want of something better to do, seeing as it rained this morning, so we were able to shirk our turnip-watering duties. Idly beating up a couple of goblins and the funny apple-like Pomme enemies along the way, we set a path for the cave at the end of the forest - because, if The Lion King taught us anything, it's that bad guys like to hide in caves. That, and two words of Swahili, anyway.
With the butterfly kaleidoscope (the official collective terminology, no less!) seemingly having taken over ever inch of the forest, we soon found ourselves hitting the cave, where, lo and behold, a giant caterpillar was resting on a flower. And when we say giant, we mean it - this thing was about five times the size of us - oh how we wished we had our royal Doc Martens on. Still - it was too late to back out now, as the caterpillar let out a scream and launched itself at us. Barely giving us time to leap out the way, we turn round and pelt it from a distance, with a magic spell we happened to pick up earlier - never have the words 'KILL IT WITH FIRE' seeemed more apt. A short burst of flames, a bit of a poke with the sword for good measure, and the caterpillar collapsed, defeated. That was easy, we though - a bit too easy, perhaps. No sooner had we punched the air in celebration than the caterpillar gets back up. Only now it isn't a caterpillar any more - instead, it's a butterfly woman, who proceeds to go mental, charging at us with such speed and force that after two hits we find ourselves flat on our back, out of health. Oops.
Fortunately, our loyal subjects must have sensed something was amiss, and we wake to find ourselves in the Selphia clinic, presumably brought back to safety by a brave search party, distraught at the thought of losing their beautiful, generous, amazingly awesome (and modest) princess. Having been beaten by a mere butterfly, we skulk away, embarrassed, and decide to do something safer for the rest of the evening. Like make some Rice Balls.
On the way back to the royal bedchamber, we run into a familiar red haired maiden - Raven, from Rune Factory 3, who's apparently visiting to flog her ores and rare materials. We bounded over and say hi, only to be greeted by a blunt '...What?'. She doesn't remember us. Maybe it's the fact it's been a good few years since we last met, or maybe it's the fact we're now a woman (as in Rune Factory 3, we had to be a man), but we took her icy gaze as a hint, and solemnly strolled away. We would have said more, but we were overcome with a rush of guilt, as we have a bit of a secret. We didn't marry her in the last game. It wasn't her, it was us - it's just Pia seemed that bit more... exotic. Friendly. Outgoing. Fishy.
I mean... what red-blooded (imitation) male hasn't fancied a mermaid before? Can we still be friends? Pretty please? With a moondrop on top?
Will Sarah keep offending wannabe lovers from her recent past? Will she learn to cook more than some rice balls? Find out what harmless creature manages to top her next time in the next thrilling episode of the Rune Factory Diaries - make sure you follow us on Facebook and Twitter to be notified as soon as they go live!
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