There was still one full day before I headed out to the city, Glaucen was the name of the destination. While I could speak Derrian fairly well at this point in time, I was still ignorant of most of the customs of the land. Not to mention the currency of the land and what I was expected to look for.
I figured that I should limit the extent to which I just ‘winged it’.
Getting more information wouldn’t be too difficult a task, but the thing about social norms is that within a culture they are...well normal. Following social mores is superfluous in more modern societies, where one is graced with such things as a judicial system and vigilantism is frowned upon, but in these primitive times it would be best to act conservatively. At least in cases where the population is high enough to warrant a police force, and a lynch mob won’t look more like a few thugs.
Well, I was hardly the sort to worry about crossing burning bridges. Besides, for the most part it was just the cautiousness that came with danger. Double checking assumptions about the structure of the world increases one’s chances of survival, but I wasn’t very into the idea in the abstract.
I tried informing Ria that Pan would be looking after her again for the next week or so, but she only murmured on with words I didn’t recognize. Considering most sounded similar to color and possessive noun combinations, they were likely herbs of some sort. Or she was simply becoming more delirious. The latter was unlikely, even if there had been no progress on the front of her skin condition, the other problems had been eliminated by, admittedly roughshod, modern medicinal techniques. A few days without
Finishing lunch with her, I went to find Ross and Troy. The night before we arranged to go out in the afternoon. It turned out that the two didn’t spend every day out in the forest, so leaving midday wasn’t a problem for them.
When I found the two, they weren’t helping fish or tend the paltry amount of poultry by the river as expected, but leisurely sharpening two oddly shaped axes near the western edge of the cluster of homes towards the center. There could only be so many people fishing on one stream, but the village still felt too idle. Shouldn’t there be more toiling in a medieval society?
“Good afternoon Alric! All ready to go?” Ross leaned into the house behind him, placing the axe he was working on just around the corner of the threshold. In a small place like this I supposed there wasn’t a particularly high rate of theft. The city would have to be different; but then again maybe not.
“Twig! At last you’re here! Were you worried you would be crushed this time?” In contrast to Ross’ polite exuberance, Troy laughed boisterously.
“So long as you don’t trip, I think I’ll be safe.” We both laughed at each other’s jests.
“I’m sure Troy will watch his feet. Now let’s get out there, we’ve spent enough winters with biting winds making their way into our house. We might even be able to start fixing up the village.” Sliding his double headed axe into his belt, he stood quickly, looking over at Troy.
Troy grumbled a bit, looking more serious and popped inside for a few seconds to grab his own axe. Ross led the way setting a quick pace, but not one too quick for us.
I didn’t really know how or even if it was appropriate to bring up the state of the village. They, or at least Ross, seemed to feel some sort of obligation to fix the place up. Was that a personal trait, or did all people in this new world feel more piety towards their hometowns? Extrapolating from such small numbers could lead me astray, but society was made of the individuals.
I figured I might as well try and get some answers for a change.
“How long has the village been like this? The atmosphere is rather barren…” I slowly lead into the topic, keeping as neutral a tone as possible. Ross didn’t turn around as he answered, as if trying to leave his words behind even as he spoke them.
“Just a little over seven years now. Some rumors reached our village about trouble along the Meskian border. Chief, or Gunner now I suppose, was the sort who thought he could predict the weather. He thought some from the village might end up conscripted, and a merchant ended up swindling him. Gunner thought if only we could preserve a great deal of food, the village would have an easier time even with fewer hands. The thought was to help the village…”
“But he dropped his father’s fish in the river, and ran away after that to who knows where. Arthur, Mark, Philip and his wife, we couldn’t grow or catch enough food and people left.” Troy finished as his brother began trailing off “Bastards just up and left the town.”
“But if all goes well, then with your help the village will probably be on its way to recovery.”
The information settled into my brain, and I spent a little while to reflect. The conversation wasn’t rushed so there was time to think.
Apparently judging by the tale, those who remained in the village either possessed a sense of obligation to the village, or didn’t have means to leave. But given the several names that were listed, it couldn’t have been too difficult. Discerning how people felt about their hometowns, which could serve as an indicator for patriotism, would be subject to a massive bias in this instance.
All those fair-weather villagers had already taken their leave. Which brought up another important facet of this world, how easy was relocation if peasants could do such a thing? There was no doubt in my mind they could physically travel the distance, but was the world in a constant labor shortage?
Amidst my many questions, I felt sympathy towards the villagers, in particular the two woodsmen. They in particular gave off a strong feeling that they were working towards rebuilding the village. People who had a goal and worked towards it, I really liked that kind of personality. It made me a little sad that staying when the paladins came around was too great a risk.
Then I’d just have to do my best while I was still here.
“We’d best get to work and put those days behind you then!”
That afternoon was one of the rare occasions I actually worked up a sweat. Matching their enthusiasm, we rotated the axes between the three of us, after my form had been suitably critiqued. The tips were a bit necessary, given my low power output, but luckily the Stamina system within me kicked in and let me reach a suitable pace.
After the dreary discussion in the morning, Ross and Troy told me more amusing anecdotes. The Young Hag, or Melissa as she was actually named, apparently was more than a little superstitious. More than once the troublemakers(headed by Rion of course), conspired to moving about her things, and making noises in the night and whatnot. Troy promised me that during the full moon she looks exactly like a witch, staying up chanting prayers, decorating her house with crude talismans.
Those hours with Ross and Troy taught me a great deal more than I expected, shedding light onto the world beyond, even if they never had gone further than Glaucen in their life. They cursed at those who abandoned their homes because so long as they were fit, work could be found. People who settled did not find great fortune, but they were depended upon. The Church of Derriad preached prosperity for Life, but it seemed the ends justified the means; sacrifices would be made without hesitation.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Two enthusiastic workers told me their tales, the perspective of how they saw the world around them. Built around a road, they would occasionally see powerful people passing through, and travellers would tell stories as they drank from the stream. A blade of grass in the current of time, they were hardly affected by the world and did next to nothing in return. The small village spectated, living a life too small to be noticed by those outside.
“I can’t say anything, I’m under a magical compulsion to keep my business secret.”
I could return nothing to the two brothers though, there were no stories for me to tell. That village so small as to be nameless, was my new birthplace, and I’d not even become a part of it yet.
Their faces fell a little, but mostly shrugged it off, seeming to remember that I was not a mere traveller but a magic user. Conversation fell off to trading quips with Troy and then to working ourselves breathless.
14 trees were stored away, and by the judgement of the brothers, about half dozen would be suitable for construction work after being cured for several years. In the past, with the difficulty of moving timber, they would have to carefully select trees to fell, and sometimes the wood would go bad in the middle of curing. This many logs guaranteed at least some would be suitable for construction.
The sky was beginning to change red as I dumped out the final tree from my Inventory. An impressive haul from the combination of magic and honest backbreaking work. As someone who abhors the idea of doing work, it had been a surprisingly fun task. I guess it really isn’t work if you love swinging lethal implements around.
“We’ll be busy for quite a while yet. Sad that you won’t be here to help us.” Ross shoved some of the logs apart and snapped off a protruding limb. More had to be done before it was ready to be dried out. “But by the time you get back, we should be ready to head out again.”
“Again?” Letting out a tired laugh I shook my head in disbelief. Sure tilling soil may have been backbreaking work, but the woodcutters of the village took giving their all to a whole different level. “We’re going to bury everyone at this rate.”
“There need to be a lot of extras when you teach a novice how to raise a house. I don’t doubt you’ll manage to turn have the timber into firewood in the process.”
I was at a loss when Troy said that. Wasn’t that a bit much? Someone who just stops by and helps out for a couple of days doesn’t usually warrant that sort of treatment.
“I, em, well why don’t you make sure you have enough to properly fix up your own place? I’m sure Hannah doesn’t want to sleep in the same shack as Troy.” Yeah, how can romance progress when the walls are so thin? I ended up throwing the name of Ross’ love interest out there in my babbling.
“She can put up with it if there’s another good man to help around the village. Besides, it would be better to let our children drink milk than eat meat ourselves.”
“With you around, there’s no reason both can’t be done! You’re more help than you realize Twig.”
“I’ll definitely be around to help a while longer,” Taking half a second to reason out the foreign idiom, there had to be a way to let their hopes down gently. “But I am a wizard, and can not stay forever. I must follow *Mana* in the end, but will delay my journey as long as I can.”
“I can’t really tell you to not be a wizard, can I?”
“I’m afraid not.” There is a certain finality to things beyond one’s ken. What can you do about that which you know nothing about? The usage of the word Mana kept them from pressing the matter further, although they clearly felt a bit of regret over it. Troy pulled at his bushy brown beard.
“Someone as stubborn as you won’t have any trouble making it back if you really wanted though. Even if you couldn’t do it, you’d still make it eventually.” Troy phrased his question as a statement. Sorry, but you’ve misevaluated me; I just didn’t get bored while we were working. I give up on things all the time.
“I will not be saying a final goodbye to this place anytime soon.”
“Good, because we’ll need you to carry a lot more stuff yet.”
“Why don’t you go take care of the Ria before this little girl starts tearing up.” Ross punched his brother’s shoulder. I was glad for the opportunity to leave the awkward conversation and headed over to get Ria her evening meal.
“*Skin looks fine, startlingly so actually.*” I tried a more in depth check up, since I would be leaving for around half a month. Ria’s condition stabilized over the past two weeks, with her skin now a uniform and slightly glossy red. With all the nonmagical ailments taken care of, I really did just have to hope the town had a solution. “Wake up, it’s time to eat.”
“Doc’or, wha’re the things?” As she was being fed, she changed up routine and asked about ‘things’. So incredibly descriptive, but whatever they were, she hadn’t spoken of them before.
Did I not need to go to town now? Personally, I really did want to go to town, as a matter completely unrelated to Ria. But I didn’t have the greatest feeling about just leaving her behind at a critical moment so I could have some fun. My quest as a healer was something I wanted to take seriously. On the other hand it could have been nothing. I decided to slow down the process of feeding her and asked some questions.
“What things? Can you describe them?”
“Faaaar away.” Bobbling her head forward, she ended up getting most of the gruel on the spoon in her mouth. And that was it.
I felt like I would die of old age before figuring out how to cure her.
Ria returned to unintelligible mumbles for the rest of the meal, and I learned nothing more. Really, was there anything I could actually do?
Since I’d gotten to this little village, I felt like I hadn’t accomplished much. At least, nothing worthy of a narrative. Just a bit of help with odd jobs. Taking care of Ria for the time being, a
I did like the place and the people I was beginning to get to know. I wished them the best, and I would stand by my promise to make Ria well. For me though, the elements that could distract me were running thin. The reason Underworld of Armok appealed to me was its virtually infinite scope. Dead ends were being reached within the village, and I needed to get out of it soon.
Restlessly I tried to fall asleep that night, hoping that the journey to Glaucen would open up more events in the village. If it didn’t, I doubted my patience would last until fall.