Walking through the forest was much nicer than the desert, for a variety of reasons. The biggest was the moderate temperature, a result of the shade from the dense trees as well as a gentle sea breeze. Regardless of the climate, they would have been in a good mood simply due to how close they were to the village.
As expected, the monster density had picked up considerably as they got closer. This had been something of a self-solving problem — more monsters meant more monsters fighting each other instead of trying to eat Symon and his friends. Several times, a creature had approached, gotten a good look at them, and left. Symon was glad the creatures here weren't all suicidally homicidal and behaved more like how he'd expect living beings trying to survive would act, but it was still unnerving to be stared down by a massive wolf that was almost as tall as Safiya was.
"Nothing will attack us unless it is confident it will win quickly and without suffering serious wounds," Aslan said reassuringly. "If a hunt takes too long, other monsters will come to interrupt it. All the creatures here know this."
"So they keep each other in balance?"
"Exactly so. Just ensure you put on a strong front, and try to keep as close as you can."
Symon was in the back of the marching order. He wasn't sure if this was the best or worst place to be. If he were a monster, he'd go for the shmuck in the back. But the people at the front, in this case, Atabek and then Safiya, were typically the first to encounter any danger.
He'd just have to continue keeping an eye out, something that was thankfully easy to do as, while the forest was fairly dense, it wasn't nearly as bad as the solid wall of grass he was used to.
"Hey Keelgrave," he whispered into his mind. "Are there monsters that turn invisible?"
"Actually, I've been meaning to ask about that. How do you even see things?" he said as he looked upwards himself. He'd just remembered that trope that people never look above them for threats, but he found nothing there.
"Yeah, I probably can. Wait, how do you even see your Ledger?"
He felt the spirit in his vessel swirl around a few times. Generally, Keelgrave sat still at the bottom, but he was able to move freely within the confines of Symon's vessel. No matter what they'd tried, the walls of his vessel were completely impassable for Keelgrave.
"Nope, it just feels like a ball filled with swirling mist to me. My perception isn't good enough to see any details. Although, maybe with that Anatomy passive..."
"I guess I'll just have to level it up some more and try again," Symon said with a shrug.
Symon wanted to roll his eyes, but he kept them focused on his surroundings instead. "It changed when you died? Is anything helpful still in it?"
By employing every ounce of his Willpower, Symon kept his eyes firmly fixed on his surroundings. "I see. If we ever find someone with portal magic, we can try and teleport a tiny little boat into my vessel for you to sail around on."
The ghost chuckled slightly.
With a smile on his face at the mental image of the grouchy old ghost bobbing around on a little toy ship, Symon slowed down just in time to keep Aslan out of range of his draining. The others had all stopped, fanning out at what Symon now saw was the edge of the forest. It could only mean one thing.
Symon scrambled around them, pausing at the edge of the forest as he took in the view. Low hills covered in blessedly normal-sized grass rolled away from them before giving way to cultivated fields. He wasn't sure what most of the crops were, but he recognised an orchard of apple trees off to the side.
The others, eager to reach the village, had already set off, so Symon quickly followed behind them.
After the fields sat the village proper. It was comprised mostly of a few dozen small, single-story buildings. They were made from large, uneven stones roughly mortared together, while the roofs were thatched with a dark plant material. They were small, maybe one or two rooms by Earth standards. A few buildings stood out from the messy sprawl of small homes.
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Roughly in the centre of the unordered village was a large, box-like structure. The first two floors were made of stone, while the third was made of wood. It looked generally higher quality than the other buildings, the cleanly cut stones it was made from were closer to bricks than the random rocks the other buildings had used. Even at a distance, it looked much better than the smaller buildings. Many figures were moving in and out of that building, the distance making them seem like tiny ants walking along a trail.
There was another, similarly sized building closer to the shoreline, but this one was obviously in the early in the construction process. It was more a rough outline of waist-high stones around some scaffolding than a proper building.
The final thing to stand out was the presence of some ramshackle docks. They extended out into the water a few dozen metres, but there weren't any ships moored. There were plenty of fishing poles stuck in place, but no fishermen could be seen.
"Seems kind of empty," Symon said. "I only see people around that big building in the middle."
Aslan offered an answer as they all quickly marched towards the town, eager to find out what was going on. "It is the, hmm, the sleeping and meal-providing place, I forget the Common name for it."
"Oh, like an inn and tavern?"
"Ah yes, exactly so," Aslan replied. He then said something to the others in Dumosi, of which Symon only picked out the word for faster. When he turned back to repeat it for Symon, he'd already moved into a light jog. With a nod, he turned back ahead as the party quickly made their way onto a path that cut between fields and started jogging down it.
It wasn't long before they made it into the village, although it was impossible to define an exact line that separated the inside from the outside, considering it had no wall or other boundary. They slowed their pace slightly as they entered the village, not wanting to alarm anyone. It would be easy for a random passer-by to get the wrong message if four armed people sprinted into their village.
Occasionally, pairs of eyes would furtively glance at him from within the glassless windows of the homes before quickly looking away. None of the stares were directed towards his friends, though Symon presumed that was simply because they recognised the adventurers from when they were in town a few weeks ago.
The streets themselves were eerily empty, and no one had been out working in the fields either. Everyone had been gathered around the central inn.
"Are they afraid of strangers? This seems a bit much for just little old me," Symon said.
Aslan shook his head. "Something else must have happened. Safiya didn't see anyone standing watch for monsters, so they wouldn't have spotted our approach."
Before long, the empty streets widened into a square plaza filled with people. Symon and his friends maintained their distance from the crowd — he didn't want to put people in danger of being drained, and no one wanted to join the crowd itself.
The mass of people was disproportionally male, physically fit, and dark-skinned like his Dumosan friends. As a whole, they wore simple and dirty clothing, although it was still an improvement over Symon's wardrobe considering all the holes and old stains in his clothes. None of them wore any armour, and they were either unarmed or had just a knife at their hips. Probably the miners, Symon guessed.
Judging by the hard gazes and shouting, the crowd wasn't happy about something. They were speaking Common, but so many of them were speaking at once that he wasn't able to pick out any one phrase. Safiya might have been able to, although she didn't speak it well enough. As it turned out, Symon didn't have to wait long to find out why the crowd had gathered.
He wasn't able to see exactly what was going on, but it was clear that the people on the opposite side of Symon were being pushed back. A few louder shouts broke out in that direction but quieted down after a few moments. A man had stepped onto a box and began peering out into the crowd. Instinctively, Symon moved behind his friends, standing in the shade of a nearby building.
The man was light-skinned and slightly chubby, with a massive bushy moustache visible even from where Symon stood. He had a sword sheathed at his hip, as well as what was clearly an expensive outfit. He was wearing dark pants reminiscent of slacks, but his vest was a garish red and gold colour. He was even wearing a small cape! As his eyes roamed over the man, he felt Keelgrave roiling at the bottom of his vessel. Before he could ask for his thoughts, the man on the box started speaking.
"My new dear friends, I greet you most sincerely!" the man proclaimed, his voice a deep, powerful tone that was at odds with his soft appearance. "I understand that this is a confusing time for you, and that there has been something of a miscommunication regarding some sort of hostile takeover. Let me put your minds at ease by assuring you that I have nothing but the noblest of intentions for Brackstead and its people." He paused for a long moment, making eye contact with a few people in the crowd. "Oh, but where are my manners, I haven't even introduced myself!" he said in a way that made Symon suspect this was still entirely on script for him. "I am the Baron Pepjin Rogier von Routland, but you may simply call me Baron Pepjin. As you may have guessed, the previous mayor has graciously abdicated his position, and as such I shall be the one to guide his humble town towards the noble heights I know it is capable of!"
A few people in the audience called out "What happened to the mayor?" or some variation thereof, but everyone quieted down when the Baron held out his hands placatingly. He said something to a person directly below him who Symon was unable to make out due to the crowd being in the way, and before long another man was picked up and bodily placed on the box alongside the Baron.
He was quite old, appearing at least in his eighties, though Symon wasn't sure how the Ledger impacted aging. He was very thin, and was supported by both a cane and the arm of the Baron around his shoulder. "Feast your eyes my new subjects, your old mayor is doing better than ever after some infusions prepared by the most skilled Alchemists of my homeland!"
"He speaks the truth, my old friends," the ancient man spoke. His voice seemed weak and thin to Symon, especially in comparison with the Baron, but it must have been an improvement to his previous health judging by the positive reactions of the audience. Symon found it a little odd how quickly the people went from almost riotous to acceptive of what seemed like an invasion, albeit a bloodless one, but he had to admit the man was a charismatic speaker. Cheers and claps of support went out from the crowd at the news of the mayor's newfound health, and once they died down the Baron continued speaking.
"So you see, my new friends, there are many benefits to being subjects of the Eternal Empire," Baron Pepjin proudly announced.