Eight Era, cycle 1721 – cycle of the squatting dog, season of Unkh, day 239
Name: Syeda Lara
Race: human
Genus: sapient
Affiliation: Gabija
Class: C
State: friendly
Brief description: dirty-blonde hair, woven in dreadlocks as a common hairstyle; often wears black face paint, but rarely repeats designs; birthmark hidden under clothing
Level: 6
Endowments: none
Curses: broken destiny
Attributes:
Each number in the following list is the level achieved for that attribute.
Magicka skill schools
None
Control and technique
None
Attacking attributes
Standard bow 17, strength 15, stick 12
Main defensive attributes
Arnis de Mano 17
Movement and positioning
Dexterity 20, speed 21, agility 17, sneak 7, balance 15, parkour 21
Mental traits
Insightfulness 12, cunning 8, lore 12, navigation 10, tracking 15, negotiation 23, charm 8
Miscellaneous
Foraging 12, luck 16, cooking 7
Health 300/300, stamina 600/600, magicka 300/300
First shen point has been opened.
Endowments: lost destiny
Gabija is gone; the gift received went with the lost god, and now you are cursed with a broken destiny. You lose 25% of all experience points gained.
Abilities and spells: adrenaline burst
Tattoos bestowed: none
Active quests: have a brill day 1,113, start a diary, learn better words for diary, make a new friend, make Edith Catcher eat dog turds
Syeda and Stirgar moved through the stalls looking for a likely buyer.
‘What about this guy? He’s got a strange assortment of crap,’ Stirgar suggested as they passed a stall overloaded with bric-a-brac.
‘He buys small wares; you won’t sell him anything you’re peddling,’ Syeda replied.
‘What about buying from him? What’re his prices like?’ Stirgar asked, flicking through a collection of satchels on the side of the stall. ‘Hey, I think this one is made from five-horned-buffalo leather.’
‘Is it worth much?’ Syeda enquired, interested.
‘No, it’s really thick, so it’s heavy and difficult to put a needle through, and it doesn’t hold magic well, so you’ll struggle to enchant it. It’ll be hard wearing, but not worth the hassle. Real amateur stuff.’
‘What about an orb of banishment? Would that be useful to Amaka?’
Stirgar looked at it critically and, after a moment, ate it. The stall merchant cried out, and Stirgar shook his head. ‘It’s fake; it didn’t even give me as much as gas.’
‘You can’t go around eating my wares!’ the merchant cried out, wringing his hands.
‘Have you got anything that isn’t fake?’ Stirgar asked.
The merchant gave him a horrified once over. ‘A daemon?’ he half-cried, half-questioned.
‘How old are these amulets of Azar? There’s hardly any power left in them,’ Stirgar declared holding a necklace with a strip of marked metal acting as a pendent, his hand let off gentle sizzling sounds.
‘They were forged in the citadel of Ohm.’
Stirgar nodded. ‘That would explain it; these are antiques, but little more.’
‘They are fragments of gods,’ the merchant proclaimed; his voice was rather theatrical.
‘Janson hasn’t been worshipped since my father’s day, and Mayo doesn’t even have a corporeal form any more,’ Stirgar remarked, pointing to some carved statues and then a bottle of holy water.
‘The power of the blessing remains!’ the merchant cried, opening his arms wide.
Stirgar scrubbed at his beard. ‘That’s as may be, but what are the chances of a bottle surviving for so long?’
‘What’s this spell book for?’ Syeda questioned, picking up a book absently.
New item: mysterious spell book
This book clearly contains knowledge of the mystical arts, but you lack the understanding to know the nature of the spell or to learn it. Take this item to someone knowledgeable to find out more.
‘That is a spell of intimidation,’ the merchant said with a twirl of his fingers.
‘Is it as old as the rest of the stuff?’ she queried.
‘Age is immaterial to spells!’ he replied gruffly.
‘A spell book that lasts for so long is probably a dud; it stands to reason. They crumble to dust after use,’ interjected Stirgar.
‘That is a common misconception; they lose durability but they are not always destroyed,’ elucidated the merchant.
‘But it’s a risk; that necklace hardly burned my palm, so the chances of this book being so potent are slim to none,’ Stirgar replied.
‘If my wares were first grade, I’d be selling them in Alexandria and not Avalia,’ the merchant said with a grunt.
‘So your prices are reflective of that?’ Stirgar enquired.
‘Naturally; it’s 300 gold coins for the spell,’ the merchant stated.
‘Wow, 300 gold for a spell book of dubious potency? It can’t be worth more than fifty gold,’ Stirgar replied.
‘Any spell tome is worth considerably more; I could easily sell it for 500 gold the next time I’m in a big city,’ proclaimed the merchant.
‘And when will that be? There are not many cities round here,’ Syeda cut in. ‘And I doubt anyone here has as much as one gold, let alone forty.’
‘Thirty gold, here and now,’ Stirgar offered.
‘Out of the question,’ scoffed the merchant.
‘What about a gold flyweight?’ countered Stirgar.
‘Flyweight? Not since the Empress was assassinated. Sixty gold and keep your archaic forms,’ the merchant answered.
‘Only if you throw in the buckled bag,’ Syeda said.
New item: large buckled bag
This bag is gorgeous and would really suit you; also you could use it to hold belongings in so you can totally justify it to Amaka.
This bag is made from something leathery, possibly the faint cow; it can carry up to 30 kg in weight, has a durability of 20/20, is lightweight at 0.4 kg and of average quality, but don’t let that put you off!
‘And the holy water,’ Stirgar added.
‘Deal,’ the merchant capitulated with a bow. ‘But I want a half-moon for the orb you ate.’
‘A what?’ Stirgar asked.
‘He means those silver bits; it’s a colloquialism, argot or slang,’ Syeda explained.
‘It’s criminal,’ Stirgar said with bad grace.
‘Did we get a good deal on the book?’ Syeda asked as they walked away.
‘It’s hard to put a price on spell books; just cos you read it, doesn’t mean you learn it,’ Stirgar replied.
‘So Amaka might not be able to use it? Oh dear.’
‘I don’t think we’ll be able to sell the armour and weapons,’ Stirgar concluded as they walked around the stalls.
‘There are a few people who might want them,’ Syeda declared, pointing out a few likely merchants.
‘They won’t be able to see how much gold they don’t have to be able to afford them.’
‘What?’
‘Look at these people; I doubt there’s a single gold between them. I’ve got twelve daggers and a couple of swords all of high-quality steel, and lots of odd scraps of armour. Fortunately, the caroks are humanoid so their stuff will fit us without too many alterations. Who’s got the money?’
After they completed a few laps of the market, Stirgar had singled out the most likely looking stall, and they strode up to a large smith with grubby hair and a stomach large enough to overhang his belt.
‘Aye, given up on her already?’ the man asked, eyeing Syeda up and down.
‘See this: simple, basic, common iron,’ Stirgar declared, picking up a sword and slapping it against the anvil.
Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.
‘Hey! What are you doing?’ Jorden cried.
‘Showing my friend why she’s wrong.’
‘Wrong? Wrong about what?’
‘She thinks that we could sell our goods to just anyone, but I told her that nobody here would have use for them.’
‘How’s that?’ Jorden asked.
‘The people round here, they don’t want improvements; what they want is cheap and quick.’
‘Cheap? Yes, I have the most competitive prices,’ Jorden replied hooking his thumbs into his belt.
‘Not cheap prices, but cheap materials – basic.’
‘I’m the best smith around, Jorden Greene; you ask anyone, and they’ll say Jorden’s your man. You might find better in Tannersville, but that’s over two weeks’ travel,’ Jorden stated, annoyed.
‘Look at this; it’s pig iron. Durability five, but if you have blades, smiting or lore above level 10, you’ll see it says unrepairable on it. This smith isn’t able to use the metals we have,’ Stirgar explained, handing a polearm to Syeda, who studied it until the unrepairable icon appeared and Syeda received two level boosts to her lore.
Skill increase: lore level 14
‘Hang on, I do the best I can with the metals on offer; most pig iron has a durability of two or three. I can work it higher than any smith around; I can work with higher metals if I ever had any.’
‘That’s why I chose you. You could be doing better, but you’re stuck with simple or poor-quality iron.’ Stirgar schmoozed, pulling one of the daggers from his swag bag and showing it to the smith.
‘This is enhanced steel; you melt this down, you’ll get better weapons and your smith level will increase from working on better metals. You can sell them for four or five times what you get for the basic iron ones and throw away the pig iron.’
Jorden the smith rubbed his chin. ‘That’s a lot of work for a couple of swords; we have the garrisoned troops here, but they repair their items they don’t tend to buy new.’
‘How much is an increase to your smith level worth? You could make a lot of hoes, butchers’ knives, arrow heads, scissors or needles. It doesn’t all have to be weapons,’ Syeda suggested.
‘My dad always complains that he can’t get a good wood axe any more.’
Jorden nodded and shrugged. ‘True, there’s use for it. How many have you got?’
Stirgar cleared a place on the table and set out his chosen weapons, going through them in turn to show the quality to the smith.
‘How much do you want for all of them?’ Jorden asked.
‘Well, you’re looking at enhanced steel; if you were buying them as weapons, you’d be looking at fifteen silver for the daggers and twenty-five for the swords. Seeing as your best use of the metal is reforging it, I’ll drop the price to five silver each for the daggers and fifteen for the swords. That’s 195 silver all in. A saving of 110 silver, which is not to be sniffed at,’ offered Stirgar.
‘No, I can’t do that. The best I can do is 100 silver for what’ll be three days’ worth of work.’
‘A hundred? That’s a cheap price for the daggers alone, but then we’ll be throwing the swords away! We can do ninety for the daggers or you can buy the swords for fifty, but you can’t have both for 100.’
‘And where are you going to sell the rest? It’ll be three days of work until I get a single bit of profit. You look for someone else who’s looking for three days’ work.’ Jorden said.
Stirgar appraised the man anew, taking the time to check over his clothes and then his rings; his eyes lingered on Jorden left index finger on which he wore an old ring.
‘It’s still 110 silver,’ Stirgar reiterated.
Jorden huffed.
‘We used to call the ten a hangman; you wouldn’t begrudge me the hangman’s price would you?’ Stirgar asked.
‘Fine.’
‘What was that about?’ Syeda asked as they walked away.
‘The man’s a level 40 at smithing; that’s why I chose him. I knew he could work the metal, and his negotiation’s level 15. But then I noticed his cursed ring, which adds 40 levels to negotiations, but he doesn’t earn experience for his negotiation skill. We were never going to win that trade,’ explained Stirgar.
‘A cursed ring?’
‘Sure. Nasty things, curses, but his one seems one of the milder ones. You can get curses through many means: a purposeful curse by a powerfully magical creature, an indirect curse through a badly performed ritual, a mistake in the enchanting process or a flaw in the magical smithing process.’
‘I never knew any of this,’ Syeda replied amazed.
‘Many creatures are capable of performing death curses; that doesn’t need much magic, but it does require powerful magicka to curse something out of spite. But, most commonly, curses are caused by the mistakes of the enchanter; the higher the arcane energies involved, the more likely the chance for a curse. Whereas imbuing an object with magicka whilst smithing creates a more powerfully receptive item, and curses are rarer, but that is offset by the metal simply becoming unusable if a mistake is made in the smithing process. You can’t resmelt it; you can only ditch it.’
‘Interesting. You and Amaka are so free with knowledge!’ Syeda said beaming, and then she turned to look at a commotion on the lowest level. ‘What’s going on over there?’
Stirgar muttered something as he looked over. ‘Looks like a golden-haired bear attack. You don’t tend to see them on plains; they tend to prefer deep forests.’
‘Should we help?’ Syeda asked biting her lip.
‘Well, you should,’ Stirgar responded casually.
‘What do you mean?’ Syeda queried, confused.
‘That’s your parents down there,’ Stirgar confirmed, pointing.
‘What!’ Syeda cried, looking around wildly.
‘Here, take this,’ Stirgar said, holding out a staff to Syeda.
Syeda took it and bolted off, jumping on top of stalls without breaking stride and knocking goods to the floor as she ran from stall to stall. Soon, the stalls were replaced by a large wagon, and Syeda staggered in her stride and then kicked off the stall, tucking her knees up, and jumped over the wagon with her feet just scraping it. As she landed, she rolled and sprang to her feet, all without missing a beat, and then leaped over the next stall like a diver, stretching out and arching over it.
She vaulted over a wall and slid down from the third floor to the second; the drop wasn’t vertical but a steep slope, and Syeda landed like a surfer, and slid down with her legs wide apart and one hand scraping the floor to steady herself. Before she reached the bottom, her front foot hit a rock, and she tumbled down the last 10 feet. She touched down heavily and rolled, but was able to push off the floor, and then she kicked away to drop the 10 feet straight down. Syeda crouched as she landed, to take the momentum out of her ankles, and sank so low that her butt scraped the floor and her knees scraped her chin.
Once more, Syeda sprinted off and jumped onto another stall, but came down on her thigh. So she slid over the stall and took off in a flat run, flipping over a haphazard pile of goods. She then sprang and grabbed a pole to help steer herself around a tight angle without having to slow or break stride. She ran on top of the wall that was protecting people from the 20-foot drop to the floor below, and caught sight of a wagon piled with straw.
Syeda bounded from the wall and stretched out in the shape a capital “L”, disappearing into the straw as she landed. Her hand shot out, she vaulted the side of the wagon and ran at the golden-haired bears, turning to the side and skidding to a halt in a cloud of dust, the staff extended threateningly and her sweat-stained face gleaming in the sun.
Stirgar, having witnessed Syeda’s descent with a jealous eye, decided to sit this fight out. Instead, he used the distraction to rob a few stalls and pick a few pockets as he made his slow way down. The thought of how expensive golden-haired-bear pelts were had made him rather excited, until he realised that they were likely to be in rather poor condition after the struggle.
Syeda could do little more than dance out of reach and whack the golden-haired bears on the head. The golden-haired bears were rather short for bears, at around 5 foot tall when standing on their hind legs. They stood on their hind legs a lot, clawing out with large front legs and paws, that were more like clawed flippers than arms; they only seemed to go on all fours when they overbalanced.
As the golden-haired bear swiped a vicious paw at her, Syeda took a step back; the paw struck a wagon and smashed through the wooden wheel, causing the cart jerk violently. This distracted the bear, which seemed to view the cart as a threat and it attacked the cart, soon snapping the cart’s axle. As the cart dropped to the floor, it pinned the bear to the ground. The pots and items Syeda’s parents had spent the year making smashed to the ground; all their profits and any hope of breaking even for the year were gone.
An arrow whistled by Syeda, and went into the bear’s head; the bear roared in agony before three more arrows struck and put the beast out of its misery. People rushed from the crowd – humans, dwarfs and goblins – joining the fray, after a mere slip of a girl had started the fight alone in the face of dozens of bears.
Syeda struck at a bear’s head as a dwarf swiped at its knees. The bear roared out as the dwarf’s hammer smashed its shinbone into splinters, and Syeda and the dwarf shared a pleased looked as the bear collapsed. In a move as sudden as thunder, it slashed a paw out, and, for a moment, nothing seemed to have happened, and then a stream of arterial blood sprayed from the dwarf’s throat, only slowing once the dwarf’s heart ceased to beat.
Next, Syeda brought her staff down on the bear’s head with all her might; it made little impact, and the bear clawed at her. Syeda brought her staff around and down again, and something felt different this time. The staff buzzed as it flew down, and the bear shot back as the staff connected, with jets of blue lightning arcing off into other bears. Syeda looked around and noticed a robed person nod at her before casting a protective shield around another fighter.
New skill: blunt weapons
Skill increased: blunt weapons level 2
Skill increased: blunt weapons level 3
You have received a buff: electric blue
Your attacks have been enhanced with the electric-blue spell, this grants your attacks 30 impact-damage points and 15 electric-damage points, with 3 damage points for 4 seconds and a 1% chance of causing burn damage; anyone within 1 yard of the target will receive 8 electric-damage points as the current arcs to them.
This buff has 43 seconds remaining.
A bear charged at Syeda; she backed away and stumbled over a dead fighter. The jaws of the bear frothed as it closed the gap, and Syeda held the staff with a feeling of impending death overcoming her. Before the bear jumped for her, a figure with an outstretched arm appeared before Syeda, and the bear roared in pain as claws cut into its neck. The bear swiped at the newcomer, who danced around, with the sharp claws of the bear opening only small wounds on the figure’s arms.
As the bear charged again, the figure moved in the blink of an eye to appear behind the bear and slash at its back. The bear roared and caught the figure before it could dance away; a line appeared across the woman’s gut, and blood oozed out, but the wound wasn’t fatal. The figure struck back, cutting the bear’s face. A hail of arrows pattered down like deadly rain and ended the bear finally.
The figure vanished and appeared far off, blocking a bear’s attack with an arm and striking the bear’s gut with her other hand. Every so often, the figure would disappear and reappear elsewhere, sometimes blocking attacks and sometimes appearing in a whirlwind of movement, taking out the bears with its talons. The momentum of the attack was shifted, and the bears lost nearly half their number before running off into the woods.
The people then turned to the new apparition; the crowd were disquieted as the stories spread. How had her hands rent the flesh, and how had her skin deflected claws? Syeda, being in a prime position to see the woman in action, frowned at the stories. There was no doubt her claws had cut the bears, but they hadn’t rent anything, and the woman clearly had weeping wounds from the bear claws, so what was all this “deflecting” rubbish?
A susurration was emanating from the back of the crowd; a name was on the wind and Syeda caught a whisper of it: “Wiflebeast”.
The woman also seemed to have heard it, and her skin rippled, her right arm shrank and became a well-healed stump, and her skin changed hue and texture until Syeda recognised Amaka standing before them bleeding from many cuts and panting from the fight.
‘Stop calling me that; it sounds ridiculous. My name is Amaka,’ she declared.
Syeda reviewed her prompts.
Raid event ended
The local golden-haired bears or “blemmys” were riled up and raided the village of Avila; you stood strong and helped defend it. Receive 10,000 experience points.
Broken future takes 25% of experience.
Level up! Level 8
(1,230 experience points until next level. Brilliant!)
At that point, a multitude of voices broke out.
‘It’s a monster; it summoned those blemmys!’
‘Kill it; kill it!’
‘No! They’ve attacked before; that was their third attack in nearly as many weeks.’
‘We can’t trust it; it’s one of them!’
‘She fought with us!’
‘Look at her, she’s an elf! Kill her with salt!’
‘This place isn’t safe; the guard have been attacked many times on patrol, and they can’t keep us safe any more!’
‘Where are the guard? Only three groups stayed to help!’
‘We need somewhere safer!’
‘Where?’
‘We’re seeking a new home; this brave lass fought her way out of a carok den, killed the queen, led us here and has now seen off the attack from the golden-haired bears. She is going to go off and search for a home for us, come with us and start a new life somewhere safer, where we will look out for each other and not be hassled by cowardly guards,’ Gorzark called to the group.
‘I’m a guard, and my friend died defending you in that last attack,’ declared one of the “cowardly” guards.
‘We all fought for each other; your friend sounds like one of the few brave ones. Come with us!’ Gorzark replied thumping his chest.
Quest received: getting to know the neighbours 1
You have received this quest due to your association with Amaka.
Quest completed for 250 experience points
Quest update: getting to know the neighbours 2
You have visited the small town and learned it is indeed Avalia; moreover, they are being attacked by a contingent of golden-haired bears, and no one feels safe any more. Help find somewhere safe, not only for those you freed from the caroks but also for the traders and travellers who no longer feel safe in the hamlet.
‘I guess we’re doing this now,’ Amaka muttered. ‘We need mounts.’
‘You can take Darin’s and Mitch’s rides; I think they’d understand,’ a voice from the crowd said to muttered agreement.
‘Why aren’t the guards doing anything?’ Amaka asked.
‘They tried, but they lost a few of their number and since then have retreated to the barracks during attacks as the local baron isn’t interested. They said if we wanted to be defended, we’d need to join their ranks. Arnican did that and it left the blemmys free to rampage. I had a shed there and lost my entire stock of salted fish; it was the last of my stock from the summer!’ the same voice continued.
‘We’ve been told not to leave the barracks, as we’ve lost too many of our number,’ the guard who’d lost his friend added.
‘The Baron don’t give a toss about us!’ cried another.
‘Well, I can’t promise anything, but we can look for somewhere safer; see you in a week or two,’ Amaka said.
They were taken to a paddock, and someone took out an object and blew on it; it didn’t make a sound, yet Stirgar shifted uncomfortably. After a second blow and then a third, the sound of padding feet and the grunts of a running animal could be heard, and two large creatures came quickly into view, approaching at speed.
‘Knoxes!’ Syeda cried excitedly, jumping up and down. ‘May we keep them?’
‘Sure, Darin and Mitch are no longer around, and it wouldn’t be right to keep them here,’ the same voice as before offered.
The knox was a large dog, standing as tall as or perhaps a shade taller than Amaka, with thick, white fur around its face and tail, and shorter, rusty-red fur over its body. Their faces were similar to terriers, and their large tongues panted after their long run.
‘I’m going to call mine Growler!’ Syeda said hugging one.
‘I think they already have names,’ Amaka declared testily.
‘You need to give yours a name, else it won’t bond to you,’ someone explained.
Amaka chewed her lip. ‘Is this really okay?’
‘Sure, they need exercise and that, we can’t keep them here,’ said the guard who had offered them.
Amaka sighed. ‘Fine, I’ll call mine… Minion.’