The last few weeks had been a series of unlikely opportunities for Shin, each less likely than the last. Gaining his first level. Beating a Player, Wearing clothes. Every single day brought some new and increasingly implausible achievement. But he’d been relatively certain that no Unexpected First would ever be less likely than the pack’s stunning takeover of the zone they called home.
But now here was Momo, asking if Shin wanted to help create a God. Woof.
“We get to make our God?” Gero asked, understandably incredulous. “Doesn’t that seem backwards?”
“Well~, maybe a little?” Momo tapped a finger thoughtfully to her chin. “Apparently almost all new Tribes already have a deity that’s closely associated with them. Like, there are already a bunch of Gods set up for any new dwarf Tribes or whatever. But my Divinity Screen spent a long time searching and didn’t find one for us.”
There is a Divinity Screen and Shin didn’t get to fiddle with it. That was so absurdly unfair that he almost missed the highly relevant information in Momo’s response. “So that means there really must not be any other kobold Tribes out there.”
Momo shrugged. “Probably not. At least, there aren’t any with clerics. Oh!” A thought struck her. “Um, the Divinity Screen offered to fold us in with the Beastfolk God? But I said no. They worship Grabgnashgulp the God of Meat, and he’s super gross.”
“The God of Meat?” Gero seemed intrigued. “I mean, I like meat.”
“No no, it’s like this whole thing.” Momo explained, trying to decide how best to put it. “It’s sort of like how we used to be all about being Big, and how anything Big was Good? The Meat God says anything that’s weaker than you is Meat, and if something is Meat you have to try and eat it..”
“Oh.” Gero seemed less intrigued. “Right, probably a good call then.”
“Besides, making our own is more fun, right?” Momo clapped her hands together, her big eyes sparkling. “Basically no one gets to do that anymore; the Divinity Screen almost seemed surprised it was being accessed.”
Again: Shin was still incredibly jealous. But this was becoming too fascinating to sulk. “The Screen seemed surprised? Was it just a feeling you got? Or what do you mean?”
“Like, the actual words on the Screen were all like ‘Whoa, I’m super rusty at this!’” Momo wobbled her arms in what was apparently an impression of the System Prompt. “Usually everything is done in a sorta professional tone, but not this time.”
That sounded a lot like Shin’s snarky Description entry. He’d always seen the System that governed the world as just another foundational aspect of existence, like the weather or dying or dreaming. But it seemed increasingly likely that the forces Shin thought of as the ‘System’ were significantly less impartial than the other primordial laws governing his world.
Pondering imponderables could wait, however. It was God Making Time. “So how do we start?”
“Oh, well we can’t do it here.” Momo began to turn away. “We gotta go to the shrine first.”
“Right the shrine, that makes sense.” Shin moved to follow, then balked. “Wait, what shrine?”
“You mean you didn’t notice?” Momo tilted her head. “The zone finished patching!”
Oh shit it had?! Shin and Gero had been so distracted by pig feeding and not getting stabbed by Higen that they’d completely missed what was going on all around them. So did that mean that–?
Shin spun towards the exit and, sure enough, the river that had previously vanished coquettishly on the other side of the barrier now rushed into their little ol’ zone. It pushed mightily onward, cutting through what was one boring scrub forest and now seemed to be cultivated farmland as the river raced towards…
Hm.
“Hey, Momo?
“Yeah?”
“Is the Maybe Blob still there?”
The little cleric shook her head. “No, it’s a big lake now.”
“Right. Hrm.” Shin considered this news for a moment. “Right. Well, we might need to make a quick side trip, then.”
“Why?”
“Because I think we probably drowned Ceril.”
“Oh. Whoops?”
————————————————————————————————————
It took the original kobold trio longer than expected to reach the far eastern side of the zone, in no small part because it was actually larger now. Where previously one could casually stroll from the start of the single path all the way to the outpost in twenty, twenty five minutes tops, the same trip would now take easily three times as long.
The fact that their transformed zone was absolutely fascinating didn’t help either.
With most of the woods cleared away, the fate of the former outpost could be clearly seen even from a distance. What had once been a fortified camp had been replaced by a single structure, rather like a multistoried watchtower writ large built from reinforced concrete. From that vantage point, a single guard could nearly keep a complete watch over the entire zone.
A small village square had been built within the comforting shadow of the watchtower, though without getting a closer inspection Shin couldn’t hazard a guess as to their purpose. It did seem like quite a lot of village for just twelve kobolds, though. Especially considering the dedicated farmland that stretched out beyond the village proper. Multiple small farms dotted the landscape, with immaculately tended fields.
More than anything else, it was the farms that tested Shin’s resolve. Some cunning kobold had cut trenches out from the river to actually flood a field of crops, lush bunches of rice growing straight out of the water. And fish were swimming around in them. There were fish in the crops and Shin had to know why there were fish in the crops.
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He needed to know only slightly less than he was interested in saving someone from drowning.
By the time they reached the lake, massive and crystal blue, it seemed that some helpful kobolds had already plucked the incredibly fortunate Ceril out of its waters. The Oaken Elf sputtered on the shore, his arms still bound to his side but still very much alive and breathing.
Blah. So Shin could have stopped to ask questions about fish. He had so many questions about fish. Friggin’ elves.
Shita perked up as she noticed the approaching trio, snatching off her straw hat to wave them over. “Oh hey! Gosh, I guess we forgot about, uh…” She trailed off, glancing down at the soaked elf. “Who were you again?”
The waterlogged ranger coughed out a bit more water, managing a weak reply. “Ceril…”
“Oh right!” Shita shrugged. “Yeah, he was just lucky that Koda and I were passing by. We fished him right out!”
The large kobold who’d been kneeling beside Ceril rose at that, brushing the dust from his thick apron. “He’s a good swimmer,” Koda offered in a deep bass, folding his muscle-bound arms across his barrel chest, “But being tied up makes it difficult. Either way, he’s alright now.”
Shin nodded absently at that, glancing over Koda. “Right, good. Say, maybe this is a weird question? But,”—He gestured towards the powerful villager—”Who are you?”
Shita and Koda shared a look, and then the woman offered Shin a bemused look. “Really?” She wrapped an arm around his sturdy waist. “He’s my husband?”
Gero tilted her head, completely baffled. “Uh? Since when?”
“Years?” Koda paused, clearly making a decision to expound. “Well, and also around five minutes. I just popped. But we’ve also been married for years. We grew up in this village.”
Shita cut in. “Even though we totally didn’t.”
“Yes, even though we totally didn’t.” Somehow, Koda’s rumblingly low voice made even the most absurd statement seem completely sincere. “It’s very confusing. But that’s fine.”
Okay, this shit was wild. Because Shin realized that yes, he did know who this was. Koda was Old Waru’s apprentice, and Shita was the blacksmith’s daughter. They’d run his old smithy for years now. That made no sense, right? Forget the fact that Koda had only really been around for five minutes; Shin hadn’t even been around for a single year, let alone years. But now he not only had a complete memory of and relationship with a five-minute old kobold, he also had totally functional memories of a dead villager who had never and would never exist.
Shin glanced helplessly back over his shoulder at Gero and Momo, but the former only offered a helpless shrug and the latter was growing increasingly impatient to keep moving. So what else could he say? “Alright, um. Cool?” He offered the Koda his hand. “Nice to meet slash continue to have known you for my whole life?”
“Likewise.” The burly blacksmith gripped Shin’s hand, then jerked his head towards Ceril. “What should we do with him?”
“Well don’t let him loose yet. Take him to…” Shin started to tilt his head, then shook his head. “Whatever, my place? I have a place, probably?” When Koda nodded, Shin let out a breath of relief. “Okay right. Good. Take him to my place. And then, um, come find me and tell me where my place is.”
Koda nodded, leaning over to effortless hoist Ceril over his shoulder like a vaguely-elf shaped sack of flour. As he started off towards the village center, Shita hissed to Gero in a stage whisper. “Isn’t he great?”
The woman was too dazed to give anything besides an honest answer. “Too many muscles.”
Shita offered a teasing roll of her eyes in response. “Tsk, I should have known better than to ask. You're only into pretty boys.”
Gero flushed red at that, mumbling something aggressively inaudible. But whatever it was would never be known, because Momo had resolved to physically pushing her companions towards their destination. Come hell or high water, she was going to make certain this God was made.
————————————————————————————————————
The shrine to the as-of-yet Unidentified God was off a winding pass beyond the village proper, perched near the crystal waters of the Maybe Lake and nestled within a significantly more idyllic woods than had previously existed in the zone. Momo bound gleefully through the shrine’s simple gate, excitedly beckoning her friends onward. “Come on, come one! I’ve been waiting for so long!”
Gero craned her head as she took in the simple beauty of the shrine, still struggling to grasp the enormity of the changes their home had gone through. “This is…yeah, this is nice.” She offered Shin a curious glance, her ears tilted questioningly. “If Momo got a shrine, do you think I got someplace, too?”
Shin nodded absently, watching the cleric pull several long sticks of incense out of a centrally placed urn. “Absolutely. A barracks? Some sort of order hall?”
“Yeah, maybe.” Gero’s mouth quirked as she cocked an eyebrow at Shin. “And you probably got, what? A room filled with tiny men you can move around on a board?”
“First off,” Shin raised a finger, “You know I’d love that.”
Gero’s grin widened. “Duh.”
“But second, I sort of hope not?” Gero’s honey-colored eyes urged further elaboration, so he complied. “I mean, I’m sure I’ve got a room somewhere, or whatever. But Momo’s the religious center of the village, and you’re its guardian. Day-to-day, Shinki Itten Village doesn’t need someone Scheming.”
Gero’s smile softened. “Aw, Shin, that’s not–”
He waved her off. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not sad about that. Isn’t it actually exciting?” Shin threw his arms out, his face alight as he gestured back towards the village. “There are so many things I could do, and I want to do all of them. I could go help Koda and Shita! Do we have a scribe? I want to know everything that person does! Maybe I could go and help work the fields, too!”
Gero scoffed, but her smile remained light and airy. “What you mean is that you’re immediately going to go and ask those poor farmers a thousand questions about fish.”
“I have so many questions about fish, you wouldn’t even–”
“Oh my Still Unnamed God, will you two please get over here?!’ Momo huffed in supreme annoyance from her spot at the shrine’s entrance, the urn already aglow with a half dozen sticks of lit incense. “I’m seriously this close to having you both dumped in the lake.”
Well, how could they argue with that? The two kobolds moved to join the cleric, stepping into a rich haze of incense to stand at her side. The powerfully woody-floral scent filled Shin’s lungs, a faint buzz pulling at the corner of his mind as he felt his awareness of the world being gently realigned and adjusted.
Momo spread her arms wide, the little kobold appearing for all the world like the religious icon she very much was as she spoke in her sweetly powerful voice. “This is a sacred ritual, one that will be witnessed only by a chosen few and then never again.” She reached out, her fingers lightly tracing down Shin and Gero’s cheeks. “Few ever truly sense the Divine. Fewer still ever glimpse It. And almost none have ever grasped It in their very hands, birthing the shape It will and always has held.” She tilted her head, her mahogany eyes intense with power. “Are you prepared to join their ranks?”
The two kobolds could only manage a dazed nod, and so Momo gave a serene smile and bowed her head. “Then let us begin.”
Immediately, a brightly peppy tune began to play:
“When you need to place your fealty,
But you just can’t rely on spontaneity,
Don’t settle for homogeneity!
Trust the Best: Just use Design-a-Deity(™)
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