1st June,1329.
Douglas, Scotland.
Earth.
The next day, Liam awoke as usual before the sun, untroubled by dreams or worries.
An annoyed whispering from the other beds showed Andrew and Aidan also rousing. Their ire directed to the remaining occupant of the room.
Llywelyn was still fast asleep. He turned in the cot, and as he did, the loud rumble of a passed emission resounded in the room. It was immediately followed by giggles from all three of the recently awakened pages. Fortunately the smell would be masked.
Near the door, an oil filled lantern cast a thin light to see by. It was not there as a comfort against the dark, but served a dual function for the Pages. The most obvious Liam had guessed himself; to provide any late night expeditions to the privy - or other business - the means of finding the door into the corridor.
The second he deduced after his first night of sleep. The boys had ground some lavender into the oil. Thus, the scented lantern eased the impact of their nocturnal flatulence. Liam was grateful for this, as Llywelyn's stomach seemed to have a voice of its own.
The deep, resonant snoring from Llywelyn’s bed continued unabated.
Aidan, having decided to ensure his friend was not late for the morning duties, snuck over to the unconscious form. He proceeded to extend the Welsh princeling the favor of a rude awakening for the others’ amusement.
A pillow jammed down over Llywelyn's face, muffling the final snore, and turned it into a yelp of surprise. Llywelyn’s pious curses followed as Aidan lifted the pillow off his friend’s face, revealing a boiling mad Welshman.
Liam laughed at the antics, having sat up to get a better view. Of all the boys, Aidan was the most imaginative, amusing, and bold, but also the most frustrating. He supposed it was due to him having learnt at a young age to annoy his sisters to show affection. Now he transferred this to his friends.
The other boys accepted this, however, mostly because they knew it was all meant in brotherhood. They also knew Aidan would always apologise profusely and sincerely if he went too far.
The page boys’ day would be full of work and lessons. This became more odious when they recalled the Upgrade last night would mean the weather was warming once more. Warm weather combined with snow and frost on the ground meant only one thing.
Mud.
And mud meant cleaning.
And cleaning meant that whatever work they did would have to be redone tomorrow. A cycle of muddy boot-prints, buckets and rags.
All the lads were itching for the chance to visit Duncan and Lady once more. They were sure he’d been levelling steadily on a diet of slain rats and wanted to exchange notes on progress. They hoped he’d discovered a way to use the attributes, too!
So far, no one knew how to assign them, or even if they could be!
As he wedged his boots onto his be-socked feet, Liam recalled the Priests’ avarice for coin and the stories of horror he'd spread to gain it. The look of unveiled joy on his face when the first of the townsfolk had begged for a blessing, holding out a handful of coin, sickened Liam.
Even so, it was a terrifying thought that a great Dragon would rise to rule the world as King and that great tortures were to come for those who did not bear the seal of God on their forehead. But it made little sense to Liam.
Why would God grant the gift of choice if the Bible already sealed their fates? Perhaps this was why the Tribulation System existed, he thought, it might give them a chance to fight their fate.
He determined to find out how it worked as quickly as he could.
“Anyone else have nightmares after the tales the Priest told last night?” Andrew asked, with bloodshot eyes.
Aidan shook his head. “I slept like a baby.” he lied bravely, his face haggard. “Dragons aren’t that terrifying!”
Llywelyn, still bitter after his rude awakening, snorted. “You slept like a baby? Is that why you were mewling when the hounds bayed last night?”
Liam laughed, turning it into a coughing fit when he saw the hurt expression on Andrew's face. Clearly Aidan hadn't been the one to make the noise.
“I think the Priest just wanted to make money out of telling a tale,” he said. “You should not worry too much about those stories. After all, the Bible neglected to mention the Tribulation System. If those events are to come to pass, it will be far from Scotland. There are a multitude of good Christians between us and whatever devils appear in the Holy Land!”
Llywelyn nodded, agreeing. “I, too, doubt the stories he told. Why would our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ,” All the boys crossed themselves, “have died for our sins if he knew the Devil would visit the tortures of hell upon us whatever he did?”
The other boys pondered it for a moment before nodding more assuredly at the logic. It would seem like a wasted sacrifice if only a thousand years later God should allow Devils free rein upon earth.
All people in Scotland knew from birth that Christ was their redeemer. And in heaven, Christ, The Father, and the Holy Spirit were one. The Holy Trinity.
The son of God had sacrificed his life on the cross to placate God’s wrath at the sins committed by humanity. He would one day return to Earth as a King of all the world. That day was coming soon. All the boys had to do was survive the Tribulations. On the bright side, Liam thought, if the worst they encountered was what they had so far, the Apocalypse may be far less awful than the priest let on.
Liam and the other boys shared what tales they had overheard as they served the previous night, and soon, things seemed much better. The biggest concern the townsmen had was for the cold weather. A problem that was resolved by Lord Douglas’s intervention with Tribulation Credits.
The priest had claimed it as an act of God, blessing the ground, the sky and the people every time someone stopped to watch him. He wandered the town, shouting loudly about the Lord God’s beneficence, carefully avoiding giving Lord Douglas, Lady Tatania or the Tribulation System, any credit for the thaw.
From what James had overheard of his Lord’s conversations with Lady Tatania, the priest also ignored the lack of biblical predictions of the apocalypse. Lady Tatania could read the Latin, and thus Lord Douglas’ Family Bible. From what Liam overheard, none of what was foretold in Revelations after the breaking of the Seals had come to pass.
There was nothing like a cataclysmic rain of fire. There had been no falling star or sign of a great Comet called Wormwood poisoning the waters of the earth, either. The only events that had taken place so far were the painful sound of the Horns and the appearance of the Tribulation Systems and their visions.
If the system continued to prove useful enough to change the very weather, it seemed likely to Liam that people would turn from the Church for heavenly protection and back to their Lord. He doubted the church would accept this without issue, however.
Already Father Doreen was using his station to cast doubt on the origins of the System.
Thinking of the upgrades the Lord had implemented, Liam wondered how far the Lord’s land extended. He knew it was a significant part of Lanarkshire, but it couldn’t be too great. As in the past, many neighbouring Lords had travelled less than a day’s ride to the Keep when visiting. Lord Douglas may have been a great warrior and close friend to the king, yet he did not hold great estates around Douglas. Perhaps he would ask the Lord when he asked about his own lands.
My own Land! Liam thought.
He’d never considered that he would one day be responsible for Lands. Even in his most imaginative dreaming of knighthood, he’d never stopped to consider that there was also responsibility attached to the position. He knew he’d have to redouble his efforts to gain an education. One day he may face decisions which, if he got wrong, may cause families to go hungry, or worse.
He said as much to the other boys.
“I don’t know if it’s something I’d like!” He went on.
Andrew, ever the optimist, tried to reassure him. “Don’t worry so much. My father says the serfs usually look after themselves. He simply appointed bailiffs to deal with the matter on his behalf. If they need men, they come to Father.”
“He checks in with the bailiffs from time to time, but they always do a fine job. The tradespeople and smallfolk would make a complaint to Father if they didn’t.”
Liam felt the sudden burden of responsibility. He'd have to assign Bailiffs? How would he choose them? What if he got it wrong? It pressed like a weight on his shoulders.
His worried expression caused Llywelyn to interject. “Do not worry too much, Liam. I’m sure the King has your Land, and its people well in hand.”
Liam looked at his friends gratefully. The weight lifted as he realized the King would care for those lands until he was ready to lead. Suddenly grateful, he resolved that should he meet the King he would first make a point of thanking him for caring for his people and lands.
“Anyway,” Aidan said. “Whatever happens, you’ll have us around to help you.” The other boys nodded their agreement.
“Thank you Aidan. And both of you as well!” Liam said. “It’s a lot to worry about, but good to know I can count on you.”
“We all feel the burden from time to time. Sir Keith takes us through the Lord’s lands often, so we can see how small folk live. The worst duties are the evictions. The Lord and Lady try their hardest to avoid them, but when a man is too lazy or drunk to work the land, and squanders his opportunity they must pass the land to someone who works it. In those times, I feel terrible for the wife and children.” Aidan said.
Llywelyn nodded. "There is naught to be done however, I once tried to give the wife of an evicted family some coin, only to discover that the man had cast his wife and child aside a week later. He'd discovered the coin drank himself to death. I think the wife is doing better now, she works near the monastery as a butterer. It's usually a job for men, but when the Monks heard her story, they took pity on her and employed her and her boy. As a widow, it isn't improper."
Liam perked up. "Agnes and Brian?" he asked. "I know them, Colm and I built them a pair of cots not long ago!" He said.
The others smiled. "Aye. That's them." Llywelyn said. "I felt I should find out what happened to them. Evictions are a hard business." Liam was proud that his friend had tried to help. More so that he'd followed up, ensuring the woman and her son were cared for.
“Sometimes word reaches the Keep that there are families or villains that are starving or too poor to afford warmth in winter. Lady Tatania or the Lord ride out then. They take blankets or food.” Andrew said, remembering. “Lord Douglas and the Lady are rare people, but sometimes even their efforts to protect the small folk come too late.”
The melancholy atmosphere dissolved as a faint rumble carried from outside the Keep. Rushing to tuck in his oversized clothing, Liam said, “Are those horses?” The boys had a duty to attend to any visitors’ animals. Tardiness because of the early hour would not endear them to Sir Keith.
Andrew nodded and, as the first dressed, ran out the door. The rest of the boys in pursuit, Liam grabbing the oil lamp to light their way, leaving Llywelyn half dressed. Stumbling in the dark over his unbuckled shoes and trying to cinch his belt, he followed along behind.
As they reached the Keep's doors, they saw three armed men wearing the King's colours dismounting in the pre-dawn light. Each man stood dressed in raiment of war. A golden lion surmounted white tabards which lay over thick chainmail hauberks and coifs. Lances pointed skyward and all the men wore shield and sword.
At their fore came a younger man. His raiment was much finer, and he wore his coif and padding thrown back to reveal a boyish face. He wasn’t looking at them, however; he was looking into the dimly lit dawn sky.
Liam noticed the other men also searched the sky. Worse, no guard from the keep had announced them and the gate was wide open.
He glanced up at the gatehouse and saw a smear of blood ran down from the covered crenellations. A chill ran down his spine.
“BEWARE!” One man who screamed. The other mounted men turning their mounts out as the stunned Pages looked on. Spotting the pages still inside the doors of the Keep, the boyish leader yelled, “THE KEEP IS UNDER ATTACK, GO TELL THE LORD!!”
Llywelyn, the last to arrive, darted back inside, while the other boys searched the grounds for foes.
The leader of the party, a younger man in fine clothes and holding a messenger bag, suddenly looked up once more. With wide eyes, he threw himself from the saddle as a screeching, winged monster appeared above the gatehouse. It fell towards the now riderless horse.
The beast appeared vaguely humanoid in appearance, with a distorted face and long arms, from which a membrane of skin stretched to its waist. Sharp fangs gleamed in its mouth as it shrieked its fury at the closest Man-at-Arms.
The warrior swung his shield into the body of the creature, knocking it away. It fell into a patch of still thawing snow a few meters from him, but the horse was already dying from its furious attack.
It swayed, and its legs buckled, collapsing to its side. It kicked futilely at the ground as its lifeblood sprayed the snow with red vitae.
The leader of the party was running towards the door now and seemed about to make it when another of the creatures slammed into him from above. He rolled with the fall and drew his arming sword to fend off the creature.
Liam and the other boys watched with building terror until, with a cry of disgust at his own inaction, Liam moved. The beast was only three yards away and focussed on the messenger. It's dark eyes glimmered in the light from Liam's lantern. Seeing an opportunity, Liam tossed the lantern's contents toward the creature.
Lavender scented oils spilled from the lamp’s reservoir, catching aflame as it passed the burning wick. The beast spotted him and turned, trying to take flight to avoid the onrushing conflagration, but was too late. The oil coated its face and upper torso in a layer of flame.
Stolen story; please report.
Liam ran past its flailing form towards the messenger, hoping to assist him inside the Keep. The other boys directed the Men at Arms to give them the reins to their mounts, guiding them past the burning monster to guard the doors of the Keep. Having brought the men to safety, they began pulling the unwounded beasts towards the safety of the stables.
While unarmed, Liam’s fellow Pages had mustered their courage and were doing their part to help. Seeing this, Liam felt a surge of pride for his friends.
Liam approached the messenger, attempting to help him up. Although wounded, he was regaining his feet unaided.
Deep strikes from the taloned feet of the beast had gored holes into the man despite his chainmail and gambeson. Seeing the damage, Liam knew the force of those strikes would go straight through an unarmoured man’s body.
The messenger shook himself free of Liam’s unneeded aid. With a roar, he drove his sword into the still burning monster.
The monster, already severely burnt, died immediately. It's light body collapsing to the ground with a final thrashing of wings.
The leader of the King’s men glowed with a sudden bright golden hue, the light spilling onto the thawing ground around him and illuminating the scene in holy light.
Liam also shone, but much less so. The messenger's eyes widened in surprise at the sudden bloom of light, glancing in even more surpise as he saw that Liam, similarly, stood illuminated. The young messenger's wounds healed as he spun to face the remaining beast.
The other two King’s men had blocked it from entering the hall, and now chased after it as it sprang towards the page boys wrangling the horses.
Before it closed the distance, it heard the messenger’s approach and turned.
Seeing the death of its ally and the now healed Messenger approaching with sword ready, it let loose a horrific shriek and leapt into the sky, disappearing beyond the walls.
Lord James had reached the doors of the keep in time to see the Harpy escape, and now stood, sword and shield in hand with a gambeson thrown hurriedly over his shoulders.
Before him was a scene of organised chaos. A demonic corpse lay burning on the ground, Liam and the Kings men stood staring after the Harpy, while two of his other pages were trying to calm three steeds from the fear inducing screams of demons. Most worryingly, atop the wall, no guard stood watching, only a smear of blood upon the battlement.
He looked first to the messenger, who was distractedly prodding his healed wounds.
“Squire, I hope you bring good news to balance out these… things… you have brought to my door!” He stared at the dead beast in the early dawn light.
He leaned forward, prodding at the corpse of the winged beast with the toe of a boot. “What in the hells is that?” He asked. Since no one else had, the lord tried to loot the beast. He frowned and tried again.
“I am being informed that I cannot loot a beast if I did not take part in its death,” he said. He'd seen much the same message when he'd tried to loot the Harts his wife had killed on the Hunt.
Liam looked closely at the charred pile of dismembered flesh, and a blue screen appeared before him. It showed a gold bar around one part of the vision.
Concentrating, he made the display public.
The Lord of Douglas read the text aloud for Liam’s benefit, recalling the boy could not read himself.
Vis corpus praedatur: {Harpiae Praedo, Planum 8}?
[ITA] NULLUM
“It is asking: Would you like to loot the corpse of {Harpy Destroyer, Level 8}, [YES] NO?”
Liam’s eyes flicked to the other option and the gold box surrounding his first option moved. [NO].
“How did ye do that, lad?” Lord James asked. “I did not know we could choose to refuse the loot.”
“I just thought at it, Lord.” Liam responded.
“Then think at YES and try to think that you want to choose that.” Lord James said, grinning.
Liam did so, and the corpse of the {Harpy Destroyer, Level 8} dissolved slowly, its form crumbling to ash, much to the surprise of Lord James and horror of the watching Kingsmen.
“That dinnae happen with the boar, nor the venison!” The lord stated, surprised at the rapid dissolution of the monster.
A new message popped up, and Liam displayed it once more.
Vos suscepit 250 Tribulationis Promeritum ec 1 Harpiae Praedo Cor
Lord James once more read. “You have gained 250 Tribulation Credits and 1 Harpy Destroyer Core.”
The Lord crossed himself as he read this. “Harpies! These surely are Tribulations.” He said to himself. “Those beasts are from the Greek myths. I truly never thought to see one in this life!”
Turning to the King's men and the messenger, he said, “Take your ease, men. The Seneschal will see you fed and rested.”
“You...” He pointed to the messenger, “and you…” at Liam, “come with me. There is much to discuss. I want to see what this Core is about.”
He turned to the rest of the pages as the first of the Douglas guards began spilling out of the barracks. All armed and armoured fully.
The Lord called to the pages, “Go see to the horses, lads. Ensure to rub them down and set out some feed. Also, send to town for the stable-master to tend that horse’s wounds.” Llywelyn nodded, and jogged out the gate towards the town. Two of the guards following him to ensure he came to no harm if the monster were to return.
He turned and bellowed at his Men at Arms. “Double all watches. No man is to guard or patrol alone. And someone fetch me the Squ…”
He paused as the Squire ran up, his chainmail jingling as he tied his sword belt across his waist. “Milord,” The squire bowed. “I am here.”
“You’re far wiser than I am, lad. Armor first, then to the fight.” Lord James smiled, buckling his gambeson self consciously. “Take twenty men and search the village for more of these beasties. Pass out bows and spears from the armory and organise the townsmen to defend themselves as best they can.”
"And let all know a curfew is in effect by my order."
The Squire nodded, replying, “Aye, Lord.” Lord James continued, “None are to leave their homes at night. A patrol will check each door at dusk to ensure everyone has a weapon and stands secure in their dwelling.”
With his orders now clear, the squire gathered the men and left towards the town, following the now distant form of Llywelyn and his escort.
As Lord James turned looking for his Seneschal, he noted the older man coming out the Keep doors, still wrapping a sword around his waist. “Sir Keith, would you be so kind as to safeguard the remains of our fallen martyrs to the church? Spend some coin to make the Priest say some words.”
He gestured at the gatehouse, where the smears of blood stood in stark contrast to the rapidly thawing snow and grey stone.
Sir Keith’s eyes widened at the blood, then even further as he saw the remains of the Harpy, its taloned feet and face still visible before they too crumbled to ash and disappeared.
The Squire bowed and left to his duties. While the Seneschal began ordering a few Men at Arms to collect the dead from the walls.
As the people of the Keep ran to complete their tasks, Liam and the Messenger finally followed Lord James into the Great hall.
****************************
Lord James took his seat in the middle of the High table and gestured for the Messenger to take his ease where he saw fit.
Liam was still badly shaken from the appearance of the Harpies. Those were real monsters. REAL.
He didn't think that even in the Apocalypse he'd see beings from fairy tales and long gone sagas. Now he knew they existed. It didn't seem right to him though. Everything about the beast had been unnatural, as though its presence was anathema to the world and everything in it. He shuddered, remembering the look of purest hate upon it's demonic face.
Lord James seemed to have accepted the being far more readily than Liam, but that may have only been because he'd only seen it when dead. The movements of its form had been...different.
As the messenger sat on a bench below the high table, the Lord addressed Liam. “You have developed a habit of being useful, lad…. and of flaring with light. Tell me. Did you receive those items from the monster?”
Liam was about to shake his head in the negative. He had never looted before, and was unsure of how to access the items.
In the granary, it had been the other boys who looted the rats, as Liam had slain none of them. While at the Hunt, the Squire had looted the Boar, while the guards looted the deer.
All had received instruction from the pages, but Liam had been serving the Lord and Lady with food and wine as the other boys gave their explanations.
It was only now that Liam realised he had not asked the other boys how they'd actually done it. All he knew is that by looting, somehow the items appeared.
It was then he noticed something. In the bottom left corner of his vision, a small bag slowly flashed into existence and faded just as quickly. It returned, pulsing with his heartbeat. He hadn’t noticed it after all the excitement of the aftermath of the Harpy attack.
“There is something, Milord,” Liam said hesitantly. Unsure of how to open the bag. Then he remembered all the other interactions with the system simply required a direction of intent.
Given how things seem to work with the system so far, it's worth a go!
He thought AT the bag “Open.”
It did.
He displayed what he saw, or tried to.
Nothing happened.
Liam tried to describe it instead.
“Milord, there is a small bag in the lower corner of my vision. When I thought about opening it, it did something strange.” The bag remained in the corner of his vision, but it's contents were also displayed.
Lord James sat forward, beckoning the messenger to be patient. “Aye lad, from what my men told me, that happens when you loot using the system. Go on and display it.” He ordered.
Liam shook his head. “It seemingly will not allow me to, Lord.” He said. “There is some writing on the top of the new vision, but my reading isn’t good enough yet to describe it.”
Liam struggled to explain the vision. “The vision itself shows a dark space with thin white markings forming a grid of small squares. Only two of them seem to contain objects.” He said helpfully.
The lord shook his head, smiling. “It wasn’t what I meant. Bring the items before me!”
He thought towards one object and a small, perfectly round sphere the size of an acorn fell to the ground in front of Liam, rolling slowly into a crack upon the floor. It hummed with a low tone and then let loose a shriek like that of the Harpy, startling the Messenger and his men.
“Is that the core?” Lord Douglas asked, over the sound of the object.
“It is Lord” It had materialized at eye height, just where it had been in his vision. He felt sure that he could catch the object if he tried it again. It let loose another terrible shriek.
“Try to put it back!” Lord Douglas ordered, curious to know if the feature could store the looted item once more. He also hoped to silence the thing.
Liam picked it up from the ground and tried to put it back into the grid, but nothing happened. Liam shook his head. “I don’t think I can, Lord.” he said.
“Hmm, well, perhaps it’s simply a way for the Tribulation to grant rewards for slaying beasts rather than some kind of mystical storage.” Lord Douglas mused. “If you’re under attack, you cannot very well be crawling around looking for tiny beads upon the ground now, can ye? Truly God sent this to aid us!”
Unsure if his Lord wanted an answer, Liam merely nodded. It was a reasonable inference, but then, to Liam, very little in this new world of visions seemed reasonable now.
“Very well then.” The lord mused, rubbing his chin in thought. “Now, what is this thing?”
Lord James leant forward, peering at the ball and ignoring its shrieking..
It was a green orb and glowed faintly with a soft, dark light. Liam picked it up, and as he did so, another notification vision sprang up. He displayed it immediately for his Lord to read for him.
Vis essentia trahant {Harpiae Praedo, Planum 8} {Monstrum Cor}?
[ITA] NULLUM
“It says: Would you like to absorb the essence of this {Harpy Ravager, Level 8} [Monster Core] for its experience? [YES] NO?” Lord James read. “Well lad, I suppose it is yours. I will not force you to do anything with it you do not wish to.”
Liam thought about it for a moment. The core had shrieked louder when he picked it up, as though it feared absorption.
Liam closed his eyes, whispered a quick prayer and then thought [YES] while looking at that description. The core gave a last shriek of terror and then cracked open. A golden light poured out of it and into Liam, and he stumbled back in surprise.
The glow faded quickly and Lord James looked Liam over for signs of harm, or of devil’s horns. Liam felt different, but not too much.
Lord James looked at him. “So, monster cores must give additional experience directly.” He mused, seeing Liam’s glowing form indicate he increased a level.
“Well done Liam, now all we need to work out is how attributes and skills affect us. Given all we have faced so far, I think we shall need them to survive in this new world.” He sighed.
The Lord looked over at the Messenger. He was sitting at the high table, where Liam had sat after swearing Fealty. He was being served with food and wine by one of Lady Tatania’s elderly chambermaids.
Lord Douglas waited until he’d finished his first few bites. After a moment, the young man noticed the silence in the hall, and turned to see the Lord looking at him. He quickly swallowed his food, rose, and bowed to the Lord of Douglas.
“The Messenger of King Robert is most welcome at my home.” Lord James said formally. “Are you rested?” He asked.
The messenger bowed as he presented a bag full of documents across the high table to Lord James. “I am, Lord. Thank you.”
He waited for Lord Douglas to place the bag on the table before continuing. “My name is Squire Glengarry." he introduced himself. "My lord, the King wishes you well and asks that you make haste to his side. He begs you to forgive him for requiring your return, but he is lying ill and abed at the Palace of Cadross.” The squire paused, his face twisting with contained emotions. "He is gravely ill, Lord."
Lord Douglas was about to speak when he saw the messenger had merely paused. He seemed to be overcome with emotion. “He also sends his friendship and love in case...” The messenger choked up as he saw Lord Douglas’ face turn sheet white.
“God bless you, Lord Douglas, and God Save the Bruce. It is not good tidings I bring ye, and worse for Scotland.”
Lord James’s eyes teared up and his voice grew hoarse.. “Rob…” He caught himself. “King Robert is dying? He said it was only a small cough, nothing to worry about!” He protested.
Turning away, he cuffed at his face, saying in a choked voice. “Aye, we shall leave on the morrow. I must tell Tatania.”
He stood and was leaving the hall before he remembered himself. “Liam, go see that the Pages have cared for the horses and then keep trying to figure things out with those Attribute Points.” He then turned to look at the messenger.
“Rest here as you will. The Seneschal will bring your men to the hall shortly for rest and food. And Thank you.” He turned abruptly and left the room.
Liam watched after him, wondering whether one day he would feel the same depths of emotion were he to hear of Andrew, Llywelyn, Aidan, or Duncan's failing health.
He knew, deep down, that he would.