Chapter 106: Take Me To Church
As is typical when doing something that might be considered inadvisable, a faint, nagging doubt arose as soon as the deed was done. I had no regret inconveniencing the shop that so rudely rejected me, but why was I so quick to take retaliatory action in the face of a fairly benign refusal in the grand scheme of things? While I wouldn’t have batted at eye at such behaviour in the later stages of my career, I was a bit more cautious in my youth. Wasn’t I?
[Will Swindell
Class (True): Level 4 Soldier of Fortune
Class (Public): Level 1 Merchant
Title: [Empty]
Experience: 631/750
Traits
* Money is Power: All attributes scale with accumulated wealth.
* Money in the Pocket: A private storage space for your personal belongings.
* Masquerade: Your Class is invisible, and you appear Classless by default. Alternatively, you may choose to display a public identity. You may choose the Level of your displayed Class, up to your true Level. Available identities: Soldier, Merchant.
* Death and Taxes: As a Soldier, wounds you inflict cause rapid decay. As a Merchant, curses you inflict last twice as long.
* Near and Far: Proficiency (Hand to Hand) and Proficiency (Throwing Weapons)
* Let It Go: Resistance (Fire), Recognition (The Dark Below)
Titles
* Murderer: You are recognised by certain dark powers. It would be unwise to wear this in public.
Covenants
* Self-Made Man: Class will be lost if you ever resort to taking a loan.
* Thief in Law: Class will be lost if you ever accept legitimate employment.
* Silvertongue: Class will be lost if you knowingly tell a direct lie.
Advancement
* Gain property
* Gain subordinates
* Gain influence
* More, always more!
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Contacts
* Amelia Dawn - Level 30 Necromancer
* Harvey Miller - Level 10 Thief of Souls
* Kyle Erwing - Level 11 Sharpshooter
* Pumpkin - Level 4 Cat
Equipped
* Mask of Felis: Grants Language (Cat) when worn.
Inventory
* 27 Gilt
* 4.5” Knife (Smooth/Serrated)
* Blackened Bracelet: Hides your Name and Class when worn.
* Silent Night: The wearer’s actions are silent when they are not under observation.
* 6 Throwing Knives
* 18 Loaf of bread
* 23 Salt Pork
* 181 Apples
* 180 Pears
* 200 Plums
* 340 oz Water
* 50 oz Butter
* 1000 Valkyrie Dust
* Changeling Skeleton]
The question lingered in my mind long enough for me to take a quick look through my status page, but it was much as I remembered it, with nothing to suggest a heightened emotional response, or being quicker to anger specifically. In the absence of further evidence, I could only conclude that I’d either settled into a general sense of impunity after a decades in the C-suite, or this was the lingering remnants of the previous Will lashing out; as befitted a Kingdom stuck somewhere between the Dark Ages and the Renaissance, disputes were settled physically a lot of the time, so that might have rubbed off on me as well. Still, my instincts had yet to steer me wrong in either lifetime, so I could only trust them and let the dominoes fall where they may.
Heading further into the service district, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of nostalgia for the sheer number of food outlets, with the majority of the real estate on the ground floor being dedicated to them. It was often joked that a Londoner was never more than ten feet from a rat, nor more than fifty from a Pret, something that seemed to hold similar even here. If anything, the proportion of outlets was skewed even further than in London, since there were no skyscrapers in this district, nor any buildings taller than perhaps five or six floors plus the rooftop. Far from the modern cityscape, it was much more in keeping with the university towns I’d visited; Oxford and Cambridge both came to mind, with their draconian building codes ensuring that all structures conformed to the old red brick aesthetic.
I continued to ignore them however, and eventually my persistence paid off, as I emerged from the winding roads into a vast rotunda; an immense pressure built in the air, and the familiar city crowds parted like the waves before me, leaving me in no doubt as to where I was. Statues were the name of the game, here in the religious heart of Heaven’s Reach; towering marble statues depicting the paragons of Frontier society, whose power and presence had shaped humanity in the darkest of ages, giving them succour and strength to endure. Or so I’d been told; these days, I got the sense that the old pantheon wasn’t quite as prominent any more, not when everyone relied upon the System for their everyday needs. Indeed, the Church of the System took pride of place in the middle of the circle, a simple bungalow surrounded by a moat that encircled it on all sides; a literal blue box as it were.
None of the temples were that impressive, a concession to the lack of space inherent in city life, but the System had the smallest of them all, and also the busiest, with a large crowd on every side of the river, heads down and hands clasped in prayer. I decided to leave that for last, as I didn’t fancy my chances of forcing my way through without being torn to pieces by an enraged mob. Hopefully, by the time I’d visited all the others, the crowd would have thinned. Heading leisurely clockwise, I first reached the temple of Ea, God of Life and Death. I’d have expected a crowd here as well, given the powerful portfolios involved, but I found only a single caretaker, dutifully sweeping the floor, and a handful of robed worshippers on the benches inside.
[Access denied.
Required Class: Priest, Paladin, Acolyte]
I was rather put out to find that the same restrictions applied here, though unlike the abode of Vermina, I at least got an explanation as to what was lacking, rather than the useless ‘Wrong Class’. At least Pumpkin wasn’t able to get inside either, so we could at least suffer together.