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A great many delusions have been swept away by this war. One was, that the Negro would not work; he has proved his ability to work. Another was, that the Negro would not fight; that he possessed only the most sheepish attributes of humanity; was a perfect lamb, or an “Uncle Tom;” disposed to take off his coat whenever required, fold his hands, and be whipped by anybody who wanted to whip him. But the war has proved that there is a great deal of human nature in the Negro.
- Frederick Douglass, What the Black Man Wants (1865)
53rd Summer, 5859
Azdavay, County of Casamonu
Things were quite tense around in ye olde Adventurer’s Guild. Understandably so: they had lots of unexpected guests in the town. Unfortunately, the adventurers hadn’t had any times to prepare any meals for their guests due to the unexpected nature of their visit. Quite rude of them not to have anything ready for their guests, but I digress from the main point of the John Brown Isekai which is the Johning and Browning.
Moving on from the impromptu etiquette class, the guild itself was quite packed with people. So packed in fact that everyone was standing shoulder-to-shoulder. Most of this crowd weren’t adventurers despite the name of the building clearly suggesting it should be full of adventurers; the common folk of the town had made a run for the building with the biggest concentration of armed people in the local area. There were a few priests distributing food while a pair of babies were crying in some far away corner of the room. Some poor old git had been relegated to a corner due to having forgotten to put on their clothes during their panicked escape, while in another corner someone was trying to quickly sell their house on the cheap before the fugitives would surely burn it down. An odor, a waft of sweat mixed with a pinch of fear and soiled underpants, permeated throughout the room. Not the most pleasant environment to be in, but it seemed a whole lot more pleasant than having to deal with the “horde of savages” outside.
One person of relative import was Shakira, the former adventuring comrade of Shinasi, who had found herself stuck on a table. Her position was quite rough: the table was quite the long one, and everybody who needed to rest their precious legs had occupied the space around her. She had put her head on the table. The cacophony in the room was quite unignorable, so she hadn’t managed to travel into the realm of sleep despite desperately wanting to book a ticket there. There was one especially loud git in the room, possibly half-drunk or fully-drunk, who was standing on a table while preaching. His garb seemed to suggest he was some sort of preacher, with a humble robe and a white cap taking him one or two centimeters close to some sort of divine power.
“Hear ye, hear ye!” The preacher stomped his foot on the table to grab attention. His stomping noise dissolved like a droplet of water in a tsunami amongst the crowd of people. Still, he managed to get the attention of a few people including that of Shakira. “This is a sign, people! Have you not seen the moral degeneration of Gemeinplatz? Our lords are corrupt, our men lazy and our youth corrupt! With how far we have fallen from the days of the old empire, it is not a wonder that the Divine has sent these demons to punish us! The rise of the Demon King is near!”
One of the priests in a white robe shouted from nearby the preacher “I’d say that it is more likely that our punishment is for how we’ve treated the darkskins and forced them to be here in the first place!” This overtly humanistic comment caused many heads to turn around towards the man shouting such odd things. “Harmony shall only be achieved once we send all races back to where they belong: lightskins in Gemeinplatz and the darkskins back north to Ginye!” Having fulfilled his racism quota, the priest intended to go back to his job only to be interrupted by a new challenger arriving with new hot takes.
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“So, you’re saying that we should send Lord-knows how many people to a foreign land just to pretend that we rid ourselves of our sins? Aren’t we all meant to be all equal under the gaze of the Divine?” This take came from someone who had no robes, but he had the glorious beard of a priest that made him eligible to take part in this discussion. “Why don’t you ship yourself out to Ginye and let the darkskins stay in Gemeinplatz instead?”
The desktop preacher raised a point that seemed poignant to him and the others in the room “First off, it’s debatable if the darkskins are even human-”
“They are human, but undeveloped. Like children.” replied the priest.
“Alright, setting aside the potential humanity of the darkskins, Gemeinplatz belongs to us lightskins! The Divine put us here, rightfully so as our race is the only one mature enough to diligently enjoy the many bounties of this land, and you expect me to leave this place to the barren deserts of Ginye?” He looked at the audience for approval, which he got loads of heads nodding upon his gaze. By now the entirety of the Adventurer’s Guild had tuned into the debate.
Amongst those who nodded in approval was the priest. “Yes, and that is why our races must be separate to prevent conflict and further oppression. We should send the darkskins back to their natural environment where they belong, lest we see more disasters akin to the one we have experienced today!” He had the crowd’s approval as well, and the only one left without any approval was the plain-clothed man who was now served the angry gaze of the crowd. He was about to defend himself, only for his voice to be drowned out by a flurry of disapproving grunts and mild insults that gradually turned more violent.
The desktop preacher called out to the man with his booming voice “You, I wonder if you’ll be able to spout that nonsense when these savages forcibly deflower our women, murder the men and burn the city to the ground! They know not of civilization, of faith and of love!”
Despite the crowd’s booing and grumbling, the plain-clothed man managed to shout out his line “Don’t we force the darkskins to serve our vices, don’t we murder those who escape and don’t we burn their cities to the ground in order to capture them? Tell me, in which way are we different from savages?”
The priest, standing somewhere in the center of the two, rebutted with the classic “Hard labor builds character for the darkskins which they naturally lack!” As the tensions in the crowd got hotter and a few angry folks began making their way towards the plain-clothed man, the priest slowly retreated towards the desktop preacher to distance himself. “We must send them back so that-” By now, discussion had broken down as a bolder member of the crowd grabbed the collar of the plain-clothed man. The savages were about to beat the poor man to death when they saw something even more concerning outside the window.
“The darkskins! They’re here!”
“Hide the children!”
“Screw the children, hide yourselves!”
Some drew their weapons, some began praying, all were in a state of panic. A platoon of soldiers had surrounded the guild building from all sides. None in the building were brave enough to charge out there.
On the contrary to those inside, somebody on the outside was brave enough to enter. It was a semi-familiar figure to many, an unremarkable young man who had been a foreigner to Azdavay. Only Shakira could remember that his name was Shinasi. He had his hands raised up, and no arms were to be found on his body other than the ones which were made of flesh. “Goodness, this place is quite crowded…” The room was so quiet that one could hear a microscopic pin drop on a pillow. All eyes were on the man once thought to be unremarkable. “So, uhm, we’ve got a quest for you?” He took out a sack full of coins, shaking it around to let the room hear how full it was. “Ten libra! Ten libra for any literate people who are willing to help the… mayor.” Having seen the crowd of people had disheartened Shinasi quite a bit. They’d probably have to do something about this, but he wasn’t the ideas man except for ideas about wine-related infiltration tactics.
“Ten?” The desktop preacher’s eyes opened up like an open wallet.
“Ten?” The priest’s eyes too opened up like an open wallet.
The other man was unable to open his eyes in reaction to this information as he had escaped from the scene with his bones intact. The two that had been left behind slowly made their way through the crowd of people to meet with Shinasi. “So, what’s with the darkskins outside?” asked the desktop preacher.
“Oh, them? Don’t worry, they’re friendly folk.” Shinasi waved towards the back, and some of the soldiers waved back at him.
Taking a look at how well-armed the men outside looked, the desktop preacher and his comrade-in-debate decided not to question further. They were probably some slave soldiers or something recruited by some lord and, considering how the town hadn’t burned down, it seemed that Azdavay was going to be spared.
“Let’s go then.” With that, Shinasi and co. were off to introduce these men of the cloth to the new sheriff in town.