True love is a whisper, and deep hate is a shout. Often the two are intertwined.
- Attributed to the playwright Vlan di Panoli.
It was ironic that the agony I had endured at the hands of my captors in the slave pits gave me the tools to make the fat man, quite literally, spill his guts. With the aid of my healing magic and the judicious use of one of the potions, we had quite a margin of error to work with. Even when one of my companions got a little too enthusiastic in their cathartic questioning, we were able to bring Mr. Vanes back for another round.
According to my magic and confirmed by the man himself, his name was Amon Vanes. The man had confessed to being a priest and mage of the Church of Her Divine Radiance, Avaria Goddess of Justice.
Amon Vanes - Mage [Human lvl.18]
Health: 26/166
Stamina: 2/17
Mana: 4/18
The lump of lard had impressive magical capabilities, though I doubted he could run a full marathon with his physical attributes. Still, he was of a comparatively higher level than the local mobs. Of interest to me was the fact that he had been able to resist, at least initially, some of my magic. If he had not been so fixated on his own personal glory and had come with the full force of his Church behind him, things might have turned out a little differently. What was pleasing was that, ‘unlearned’ as I was in the Control, the use of the arcane in the local nomenclature, my maximum Mana was only a little behind a full-on Mage’s. At this stage of play, I reckoned that Control was probably something to do with my overall level of my spells.
What worried me was his ability to nullify magic. If there were others like him, who could perform similar arcane feats, then I would have to prepare accordingly. Though truth be told, I did not know where to begin.
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Another concern was that the man had known where to look for me. The organization he was part of, the Church, had been able to divine my general location, and had sent many of their agents to this land to find me. In between his screams of pain and pleadings for mercy, we were able to learn that the ecclesiarchy of the Church wanted him to bring me in at all costs, on the orders of a certain Cardinal Mauros.
Amon claimed that he had been visited by Avaria herself, and given the mission of finding her lost champion and bringing him back into the fold. Believing himself to be one of her chosen, a prophet, he employed a local guide and some hired blades and set out to search for me, the "Herald of Avaria," in the Sainba. Fortunately, for me at least, in his desire to claim all the glory of finding me in Her name, he neglected to inform his superiors of his divine visitation. That meant the other teams still had no exact idea of where I was.
Providence works in mysterious ways.
Had he succeeded, he would have climbed several rungs up the ladder of the Church hierarchy. It was no different here than in my old world, where greed, power, pride, and the desire for social status were also prevalent. These were emotions and ambitions that I was familiar with. From Amon, I concluded that there were others like him, searching for me in various parts of this continent.
I would have liked to have spent more time questioning the man, probably extending our little session for a few more hours, but my companions, now sated, convinced me that it would have been a foolish choice. We needed to leave the immediate area as soon as possible in case the others, who had escaped, returned with reinforcements.
Amon’s words were confirmation that Avaria had truly betrayed me. Was this how the deities of this world treated their chosen?
You have been judged and have not been found wanting. These had been Avaria’s own words. I understood those now to be lies—nothing more than tools of manipulation. A way to stroke my pride and make me more amenable to her terrifying will.
When we deemed it necessary to depart, I slashed the fat man's throat, leaving him to choke on his own blood, naked and helpless, like a stranded whale. This gruesome act earned me some valuable experience points and momentarily eased my disappointment.
However, as I assisted my companions in dividing the various items from the recently-slain man, I could not help but feel a sense of unease at how my perspective on the value of human life had drastically shifted in this world. The once-unthinkable act of murder had become just another necessary chore. ‘But was it really murder?’ another part of my mind countered.
During the quick skirmish, the Hunter and the Rogue had managed to slay a ‘bandit’ each, but I did not receive any experience from this. This was probably due to me not having ‘tagged’ or damaged any of the enemies with any of my abilities. Shame, I would have to remember the conditions for experience gain in future conflicts.