In the time of yore, Tatankhum's realm entombed their regal departed alongside their devoted retinue and trusted aides who yearned to pursue them into the hereafter. The reward for such devotion was the excision of their servants' flesh from their revered bones. These bones were then coated in steel and subsequently treated with tin to safeguard them against the ages for their long vigil.
- The Fanciful Travels of Beron de Laney 376 AC.
Guard duty during the Weeping was very much a dull affair. There were Zajasite stones placed around the perimeter. These shards of azure, which bathed the encampment in their blue light, were sentinels in the night. Small flaps had been opened in the canvas to allow the sentries to look out at the rain, falling in almost solid sheets against the ground. Despite the deluge, there was little wind and I noticed that the canvas seemed to be deflecting the rain, as if the water could not find purchase against its surface. This must have been Ankhset’s water ward. Apart from the interesting reaction between the rain and the ward, there was really not much to see at all for the first few nights.
However, things started to grow interesting as, one night, I saw some lights in the near-distance. Other camps of traveling folk and caravans, Laes explained to me, once I brought it up with him after my shift. The Rump was, according to him, a stopping point where people would wait out the rains before crossing into the wastes.
Slowly, the number of lights grew along the tops of the hills with each passing night. However, none of us were brave enough to go out into the torrent of rain to make contact with these new people. The way I saw it, there was also little point. So heavy was the rain that I was pretty sure I would drown if I were to walk outside the protection of Ankhset’s ward.
*****
I needed to make better use of my time here stuck on the Rump. One morning, with Dumuzi’s help, I bought some sheets of wood, layering them atop each other to fashion a rough target for practice. I practiced breaking down the crossbow, and in doing so, I got a basic understanding of its mechanisms. Simple, by modern standards, of course, but in this one I had no doubt that this weapon was one of the more-advanced specimens. The crossbow also came with a small quiver filled with wooden bolts tipped with solid steel.
For the sake of completion, I used Identify on the crossbow.
Ironwood Quas Crossbow
Durability 190/190
It certainly had a fine-sounding name and looked like it would be fun to use. However, at such a high price I was beginning to wonder if the new weapon would actually be effective in my hands. With how quickly I could learn new skills in the world, there was always the option of picking up a simple bow and getting Kidu to train me in its use.
Practicing reloading and shooting the crossbow at the target for the next two hours until I could hit more than miss, gave me, as expected, a new notification.
You have learned Crossbows (lvl.1)
Breathing a sigh of relief, I let go of the last vestiges of my buyer’s remorse. I truly felt that it had been money well spent. A bit later, Elwin also decided to loose a few bolts for fun, and I was mildly annoyed when I saw that he was a much better shot than me. Even Cordelia had a go with my new weapon, and she shot almost as well as the Rogue. The only one who was worse than me was Larynda, and she had to get Cordelia to crank the lever for her, as she was too weak to do so herself. Kidu himself did not want a turn at shooting, explaining that his archery and bow were far superior to any warm-lander’s toy. In my opinion, it was indeed a toy, but a deadly one.
Swallowing my pride, I got Elwin to give me a few pointers. He told me to relax more and not to pull so strongly on the trigger. According to him, the release of the bolt should come as a ‘surprise,’ or whatever that meant. Under his guidance, I was able to increase my skill level again.
You have learned Crossbows (lvl.2)
The Rogue assured me that all I needed to do now was practice. And I did, with an almost single-minded purpose that surprised even myself. Guard duty and meals became a distraction. My time with Catalina was a necessary relief, like going to the bathroom, as the warmth I had initially felt was now growing distant. When my fingers chafed, I cast Heal on them, and with the passing of the hours, my motions became like a machine. I practiced shooting through the sights and shooting from the hip, my hands and eyes slowly learning the feel of the weapon. Crank the lever, load, aim, shoot. My grouping improved, but I felt I was missing something.
After a quick lunch, I started to shoot and reload with my gauntlets on, and the movements were no longer as fluid as they once were. At first, I was slow. Slow, far too slow, and clumsy, fumbling to reload the weapon in good time. However, I kept at it, seeking to master this skill. In time I got better, but I was nowhere near what I would consider a good speed. However, fortune would smile at me a day-and-a-half or so later.
You have gained 1 Dexterity.
You have learned Crossbows (lvl.3)
This was enough, I thought to myself. Any more of it and I would run the risk of going insane. This was my limit. I broke down my weapon and put it in its case, much to the relief of most of my companions.
“Why were you so intent on your practice? And why did you stop?” inquired Cordelia, looking at me, as if searching for a deeper answer.
I decided that a quote from an ancient warrior would fit the bill perfectly, “Do not collect weapons or practice with weapons beyond what is useful,” I answered, trying to sound wise.
The beautiful woman pursed her lips in thought, a mortal gesture that reminded me that she was not . “You believe then, that further practice would be of little use?” she inquired.
“No, I am sure it would. But there should be balance in all things. If I focused solely on target practice, my skill with the sword would suffer,” I countered with a smile.
“I see, you speak the holy truth, Gilgamesh. I have been remiss and lack with my duties. Come now, it’s best that I show you more of how to use that sword at your hip,” she replied seriously, a dangerous and fanatical gleam in her eyes.
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Behind her, I could see Elwin silently mouthing a “Better you than me.” Truth be told, however, I did not mind a single bit.
*****
And so the days passed in quick succession, and I allowed myself to relax more, adopting a more balanced approach to my training.
Now, with some more time on my hands, I commissioned some simple bolts, fashioned completely from iron, from the caravan’s smith. He gave me a funny look, but a few bronze pieces later and he was more than willing to do it.
Life under the canvas had started to drive me a little stir-crazy, so I took solace with my companions a lot more. Patches’ presence was especially welcome. The simple creature was always glad to see me, and I found the uncomplicated love of an animal most comforting.
As if in jealous spite of my simple happiness and growing complacency, a dark dream came—darker than the usual torment I had grown accustomed to. I found myself trapped in suffocating darkness, stripped of all sensation. No sound, no touch, nothing. It was a different kind of horror, one that felt endless, as though I could spent centuries in its stifling grip. Every fiber of my being knew this was what Death was in this world. As in mine, Death was an absolute nothingness. A revelation.
The truth behind the nightmare cracked like a whip across my soul, jolting me awake. I gasped for air, my teeth chattering like wild castanets. For long, agonizing minutes, I was near paralyzed, hugging myself as the tremors slowly subsided. Thankfully, I had surfaced from the nightmare in the early hours of the morning, sparing me from showing my companions my weakness.
With renewed, if somewhat forced, vigor, I began asking around the caravan for tidbits of knowledge on Alchemics and potential ways to conquer Death. At first, it felt futile, for most of what I gathered were merely fanciful stories—tales of eating mystical fruits and parts of legendary creatures, or finding a well that granted wishes. Or accomplishing great deeds to earn the favor of the gods.
It was on this last point that I decided to ask Cordelia for the truth of it one late afternoon.
“Mostly true, my lord,” she replied demurely, the very picture of a maiden of virtue. “But the Goddess grants her Grace not so that we may avoid death, but so that we may serve faithfully beyond our allotted span.”
“And how does one become worthy of such a gift? Is it forever?” I asked, trying to mask the need and urgency in my voice.
Cordelia's face grew solemn, taking on regal and terrifying expression. “You must face Her judgment and not be found wanting. Yours must be a life free of sin, lived in service to others. A soul, pure and good,” she explained slowly, her words heavy with the weight of gospel. “Those under Her guidance are forged anew, made instruments of Her righteous will. That is the covenant the most holy Avaria makes with her chosen. And you, as Her Herald, are the most worthy of us all.”
An involuntary shiver ran through me at her words, but she mistook my reaction as reverence, watching me intently.
Still, despite the hauntingly familiar words, I felt a spark of hope within blossom. Perhaps, I had already been gifted with what I sought.
“And the Grace of the Goddess—how long does it last? Can one who is blessed with Her light fall from grace?” I asked, a trace of desperation creeping into my tone.
“Those chosen remain as long as they are needed in this world before the Goddess calls them back to her bosom,” the Temple Knight replied, her face a solemn mask, though a crack appeared. “Though the Goddess is perfect, her servants are not. Gilles de Forunrae, wielder of the Twice-Forged, was one such fallen,” she finished sadly.
Inwardly, I smirked at the paradox. A fresh wave of bitterness surged through me. How could a perfect being make imperfect choices? And, of course, anything given by the Divines always came with strings—strings that cut deep and bled you dry. You were only kept around for as long as you were useful.
A stay of execution in exchange for servitude and a different sort of oblivion was a poor bargain.
*****
Though it drew a few frowns from Cordelia, I took up one of my old pastimes, gambling. I explained to her that it was less about the money, and really more about whiling away the time. Gambling was simply a means to an end to ‘train’ my Luck attribute. That’s what I was telling myself, anyway. In truth, I believe I fell into it as a way to forget recent revelations.
The evening story sessions continued, eliciting numerous smiles and creating a sense of anticipation among the caravan's inhabitants. As I entertained them, I couldn't help but think to myself, "I should start charging for this." As my audience expanded, so did my confidence, and I began incorporating narrative techniques to capture their attention.
Occasionally, I would also impart some scientific knowledge when the locals asked me simple questions about the world, such as "Why is the sky blue?" posed by Dumuzi. In response, I explained about the Rayleigh scattering effect. However, as I delved further into the subject of air molecules, which in turn meant that I had to explain what molecules actually were, I sensed that I had completely lost him at this point. On the other hand, Larynda appeared deep in thought, pondering the explanation.
With this particular evening’s story now completely forgotten about, Larynda asked me another insightful question.
“So like. What is a molecule then, Gil?” her tongue hesitant and unsure, as she stumbled over the alien word.
“Ah, a molecule is the smallest amount of a substance that can exist, while having the properties of that same substance. They themselves are composed of even smaller things that determine their properties, but that is a discussion for another day. They are all everywhere, making up nearly everything around us,” I smiled proudly. Science did not have the answer for everything, but what answers it had were good ones.
“Then what is Mana?” she followed up, her face a picture of concentration.
I could have answered with a simple quote from the primer, but I felt that would be doing her a disservice. “That, I do not truly know,” I stated simply, uncaring for any potential loss of face, for science did not have all the answers. What answers it did have were, however, good ones, and I took pride in being able to admit a lack of knowledge.
For a child, she seemed to take all of this well, and I explained that I was not, in fact, hiding any divine revelation or esoteric knowledge from her. Cordelia seemed to be absorbing everything that I uttered, like a sponge, muttering to herself at times, as if she was trying to inscribe my words to memory.
At times, I felt like a preacher spreading the gospel to the unwashed masses. My words bore fruit, and thanks to this little exchange, I earned another point towards my least-important attribute, Charisma.
You have gained 1 Charisma.
As if science was just another aspect of religious dogma, the woman knight took off into another tale of Avaria and her judgment of the city called Dezones, in the land of somewhere-I-forgot. Despite her skillful rhetoric, my mind wandered off to engage with different thoughts.
I realized that there was a spark of resentment in me, a spark that I needed to snuff out. The woman had only spoken the truth of Avaria, reaffirming beliefs I had held for a long time.
Shaking my head, I pushed becoming a better person to the side for the moment. I needed to think on something else.
At least my Charisma was a nice and even number now. I still had no idea how the attribute worked in the slightest. Was it like a compelling effect that forced other characters to be friendlier towards me? Could high Charisma be used on me, forcing me down a path I would not have taken otherwise? It opened up the consideration of what exactly ‘free will’ meant in this world, but without any evidence or empirical data, my thoughts could only run around in circles, never stopping at a satisfying conclusion.
There was really nothing for it, so I shelved my musings on the Charisma attribute. I needed to improve what I could, and I had a new idea on how I could improve my most recently-acquired skill.
*****
The following day, I was able to commission some padded blunt bolts from one of the craftsmen, in exchange for the medallion that I had looted off Amon Vanes. Then I got Dumuzi to wear some of the old pieces of my armor and to carry the thick wooden target board. I told him that I needed a moving target and that I would be shooting at him with blunted bolts. The boy was understandably reluctant at first, but the promise of payment made him amenable to my demands.
Hitting a moving target at running speed was considerably more difficult than a stationary target. Nonetheless, with some practice, I learned to lead the target, compensating for the speed of both the bolt and Dumuzi. This continued until the boy could run no longer, and I paid him a whole bronze piece for his troubles. As expected, he had not been hurt and had found the whole thing to be like a game. This had been especially true when I had encouraged him to try dodging the incoming bolts. The young lad took it as a challenge, and did his best to run in zigzag patterns to throw off my aim.
Worried, his mother came the next day. I could see that she was biting her lip for a long while, but even she could see that it was relatively easy work for decent money. She was a little cold that evening, but eventually, she gave in to my forceful demands, and I was able to find some release. As I left her place, I assured her that Dumuzi would not be hurt. After all, even if he did get hurt, all I needed to do was use Heal.
No harm, no foul.