The Guild in the frontier regions is nothing more than a collection of opportunistic bandits, thieves, and failed mercenaries. They deem themselves monster hunters, heroes all, and the shield of the common peasantry. But tell me this, what hero is he that would not render assistance unless compensated in coin?
- The Fanciful Travels by Beron de Laney 376 AC.
Here, unlike the deep dark of the forest, the sun was able to filter down through the branches of the lesser trees of the glade. The call of songbirds and the annoying chirping of insects filled the morning air as the creatures of the night made good their rest. Off towards what I presumed was the west, we could just see a plume of smoke rising just above the canopy of the trees.
The Rogue and the Hunter were having a meal of Tree-Laur haunch and discussing what to do next. Their discussion, more of a debate, was animated, with even the usually even-tempered Kidu showing a little anger.
“Morning, sleepyhead. This great big lug thinks that we should spend the rest of our lives out here in the wilderness, living off the land. I, for one, have had enough of the great outdoors. I want to actually enjoy my freedom. With your magic, we are no longer slaves! We should at least go and see whatever is causing that smoke. I’ll go by myself if I have to!” the Rogue said emphatically.
“Elwin Tucker gives a plan with great risks. We are safe here, relatively so. There is sustenance in the forest if you are strong. Just a few days ago we were slaves in this land, I would not have it be so again...” replied the wildman, clearly looking to me for direction.
I thought for a moment on both of their arguments, before adding my own opinion, “Both of you make good points, though I, for one, find myself wary of further contact with the people of these lands. Still, one cannot live in the wilderness forever. We simply lack the tools and equipment to survive a winter here,” I paused for a moment, digesting my companion’s suggestions, “I say that we take the middle course and at least investigate what that smoke is together. This forest is too dangerous to traverse alone. Perhaps there will be people nearby. Perhaps they can help us. Perhaps they can not. If there are people there then it might be possible to trade for something, or if not… we can take what we need,” I added, evenly looking them each in the eye.
They both nodded in acquiescence before they began to clear up the camp. The pair stamped out the fire, collected the glowing Zajasite stones, and packed the recently smoked meat into our wicker baskets with an economy of movement that would have been impossible for me. Gripping our weapons in hand - Elwin with his knife, Kidu his spear, and I with my trusty pickaxe - we made our way through the forest toward the direction of the smoke.
We left the relative safety of the glade and moved deeper into the forest. Our surroundings became steadily darker as we pushed on. The sense of things leaping overhead and looking down at us never left our consciousness. We advanced quickly, though carefully, through the massive trees and slight undergrowth of the forest, making sure to also scan for any threats from above or below.
At some point in our little expedition, Kidu suddenly held up a hand and called for us to stop. We had to wait for a herd of massive deer-like creatures, perhaps twenty or so strong, to finish crossing our path. They wended their way through a trail between the giant trees like lords and ladies of the forest.
They were majestic animals, almost three meters to the shoulder, heavily muscled, and their bodies were covered with soft chocolate brown fur. Atop their long graceful necks, were large heads from which four long spiked horns grew. Their eyes were large, gentle, and brown. One of the animals stopped to look in our direction, before moving off once again with the herd when the gigantic herd leader called out with an ululating cry.
Pausing in wonder at what I had just witnessed, I turned to the Hunter and asked, “What were those things?”
“Southern Cronir… smaller than the ones up north, with an extra pair of horns. Cronir make for good eating,” he replied in a deep hushed voice.
“To you, friend, everything makes good eating, and I would not want to tussle with the big one unless I had to… or was deep in the cups!” quipped the Rogue jovially in counterpoint, as he continued onwards. This little exchange, it seemed, was as clear a signal as any for us to continue our march through the forest.
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Finally, after what seemed like an excessively long amount of time, we could start to hear the voices of real, actual people. We all swiftly crouched down, as we moved closer to the source of the smoke and sound of industry. Finding some cover, we peered through the bushes of the undergrowth and saw a small group of people undertaking a myriad of jobs in a large clearing. My eye was immediately drawn to some small mounds which had bluish smoke billowing from them. If my memories were anything to go by, the mounds could only be charcoal piles.
An old memory told me that this was a sign that the wood inside was undergoing the change into charcoal. On a tangent, I remembered a lecture from a world away and softly mouthed “Köhlerglaube,” the word for blind faith in German, which had originated from the charcoal-burner profession.
In the old times, the ignorant peasants would blindly believe whatever the local priests dictated to them as they had to spend the greater part of their attention on overseeing their piles. However, unlike the medieval peasants, I had little faith in the gods, let alone their priests.
I also remembered, from a distant lecture or seminar about medieval societies, that charcoal burning was seen as a lonely profession. The creation of charcoal was dirty work that needed constant supervision to ensure the wood burnt at the correct temperature. Also, they needed to make the charcoal as close as possible to where they fell the trees, which meant that the charcoal burners often lived far from the local centers of civilization.
Behind the piles stood several single-story log cabins. Around the smoking mounds, men were busy adding more wood to the mounds to make more charcoal.
A few of the men carried axes and heavy staves. They used these to chop up branches from the large fallen trees at the edge of the clearing or to poke holes into the charcoal piles to regulate the heat. It was a relief to note that only a few of their number carried sidearms, such as short swords or long fighting daggers.
The men were clothed in brown, gray, or black long-sleeved robes that were tied at the waist with wide colorful sashes. A figure clothed in blue, in stark contrast to the other workers, and who appeared to be the leader of this encampment, barked orders at them before he, too, joined in the work. They all had the epicanthic folds of an Asiatic people, and the whole ensemble made me think of the old Mongolians of Earth.
Focusing on one of the nearest workers, I silently began to cast Identify on him.
Arban Bayarsaikhan - Charcoal Burner (Human lvl.7)
Health: 75/77
Stamina: 18/28
Mana: 10 / 10
I did this again five more times, making sure to include the leader in blue. These were all the men who were in plain sight. I drew a breath of relief as I confirmed that they were all relatively low-level; with the highest among them being only level eight, and the lowest being level six. A ghost of a plan was beginning to form in my mind. Half wishing to confirm the strength of my companions against the workers and half simply for practice, I cast Identify on Kidu and Elwin.
Kidu Kreshin - Hunter - (Human lvl.12)
Health: 252/252
Stamina: 43/49
Mana: 5/5
Elwin Tucker - Rogue (Human lvl.13)
Health: 152/152
Stamina: 27/40
Mana: 10/10