1. The Apostate

In a land where the Church of Order, Light and Truth competed, Mercurius was a simple Church of Truth member. Shaved head, green eyes and a moderate height, skin tanned in the sun amongst the urban sprawl of what once was a great city, the city of ‘Byz'. There amongst the ruins of what was once an empire, in the market stalls, an old man sold a small stone statue, it depicted a man on a chariot.

“The old gods live in this one,” the old man said simply.

“Quiet old man, you can be arrested for saying such things,” Mercurius said, acidly, and with paranoia, turning around to look if anyone was listening.

“Hoh, but it’s true, you’ll see.”

“How much?” Mercurius asked.

“For this one, nothing,” the old man said, “pray to it, and tell me what it tells you.”

“But that is blasphemy!” Mercurius said.

“Pft… choose to believe me or not, that is your problem.”

“Is it now…” Mercurius thought.

Other passers by looked at the strange old man, and the young man who was looking at the statue.

“Hide it quickly, they will destroy it,” the old man whispered, “it’s a wonderful piece of art is it not?”

He stared at Mercurius to agree. He leaned over, his eyes staring at the young man, waiting for an affirmative.

“Sure, I guess.”

He looked with confusion at the old man, wandering back to his little home, an apartment in the centre of the city of Byz. There was not much else there but dust, Mercurius worked in the docks, but he had been fired recently. Dust clouded up. The markets were mostly empty, the Church bells of the Church of Truth rang, economic activity was slow, and a decaying Empire was now just a mere rump. Some lunatic preacher began shouting.

“The Church of Light are liars, their ways, Emperor Basil pays them tribute. Tribute to Uruq god damn them. And Balna has converted to them, they make the unfaithful pay extra taxes. They even make us share a quarter with their filth!” The preacher shouted down at the bedraggled masses.

Mercurius was medium height of some 1.78 metres not that much shorter than the preacher, who stared at him and then walked on ahead. Purple flags of Byz flew over the battlements. The city down below looked precarious and poor.

What the hell did that old man give me?

He hid it in his jacket before putting it on a dusty table top. A stone statue to a strange deity.

“Is that the god of trade?” Mercurius whispered, “this old man wants me to believe in fairytales.”

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He knew of the god of trade from books, some of the old Gods that were once worshipped across the continent, now usurped by the three monotheistic faiths that dominated. He stared at the statue a little longer, hearing the ravings of Church of Truth priests.

“Well they can do earth magic, The Church of Light can do fire magic, and the Church of Order can supposedly cast down lightning bolts. Ah whatever,” he paused and took a deep breath, “I believe in the god of trade and wish to be a follower of him or whatever.”

“That will do,” a voice said in his head, “simply put, worship me, and you will get god powers. Trade points I will call them. You need 100 of them to teleport. That statue creates roughly 1 a second. But first you have to claim it.”

Mercurius tapped the statue and it began feeding into his power, before meditating to it, 2 trade points instead of 1 flooded into him. He teleported to the local pottery manufactory, realising what he had done he gasped. He waited 50 seconds and teleported into what was Balna. The nation north of Byz that had recently converted to the Church of Light; the state had converted, the people were still in the process of abandoning the Church of Truth, the religious taxes making the job easier.

“Lets try not get burnt alive by those savages,” Mercurius muttered.

As it turned out, he wondered into a local Balnan village near a forest. The village was productive, it seemed to produce wood and food, mostly game.

“We will convert to the church of light and pay less taxes, enough of this nonsense,” a man said.

Mercurius wandered in, local peasants immediately stared at him.

“Welcome to Marston, what can I do for you?” A local notable said, clearly not very friendly.

“I am a merchant,” Mercurius nodded, trying to convince himself.

“Are you now?” The man said, “from where?”

“Byz?”

“Ah that shithole huh, well if you deign us with your presence, at least show us some coin?”

“Ah, right…” Mercurius said, I don’t have any.

The village notable immediately began laughing like he heard the funniest thing in the world. Other villagers quickly joined in.

“Can I borrow some coin?” Mercurius asked.

“You have nothing to offer as collateral… hang on, you do,” the notable said.

“I do?”

“Sure, slavery is legal in Balna, so how much do you want to borrow, I reckon, given you are a young man, what age are you sir?”

“24?”

“50 Balnan silver, that’s what you are worth, I give you a week to pay it back. After a week, give me 60 silver back, that clear?” The man said. Well he can help plough the fields or something.

Two bags with 25 Balnan silver coins were given. They had the distinct image of the regal king of Balna on one side wearing a crown, and on the other Balna was represented by a ‘B.’ For fifteen minutes Mercurius meditated, then he went to the library where he stared at a map of the world. There he saw the illustration and description mention the Raja states, and Xong to the east, Moru to the south, Peria a well known church of Order state. He then went to buy wood, mulling over the various choices he could do. Uruq, Hitara or the Church of Light states were possible, but not too enticing.

I need a place where a pagan will not stand out too much. But I suppose Balna is a Church of Light country, so they should be willing to do business with their co-religionists’ coins… probably.

He did business in Moru first, selling the wood there and returning with 120 Moru silver coins. They had a significant wood deficit, so any wood was very welcome in their markets. He returned back to Marston and gave the notable his capital back, albeit Moru coins were in fact more valuable than Balna coins, but he nonetheless didn’t begrudge taking 60. The figure stared at Mercurius with awe, examining the trader who now resided in the village. Mercurius owned nothing in Byz. Now he had a future. The local notable inviting him in, robbed of a reason to refuse him.

“I for sure, thought I would have a slave…” the notable whispered, “well this works too.”

What about that old man? I still don’t know how this works, I need his help. If I can find him, perhaps I can work this out. I need more statues, if I teleport too much, I will use up the god power. Enough trade points, and maybe I can reverse the situation. But to think I would become a pagan. Worshipping some lost god from long ago. I need to thank that old man.

He teleported into Byz and began looking.