8th day of Lustertide, 1366
Ebonheim opened her eyes. The first rays of sunlight streamed in through the window, illuminating the inside of her hut. She stretched her arms over her head, arching her back, and let out a contented sigh. She rolled onto her side and propped herself on one elbow, gazing at her surroundings.
The hut had a single room with a sleeping platform by the corner. It was made from sturdy logs cut into rectangles, which formed a frame. The top part of the platform, where she slept, had a thin cushion laid atop the wood, covered by a blanket. The rest of the platform consisted of two benches, which folded up during the day. One side held her belongings, and the other held a basin and a bucket. A small fire burned in a stone hearth in the center of the room.
The hut had been built by the villagers themselves. It wasn't fancy, but it did have a certain rustic charm. The walls and roof were made from sturdy timbers, and the roof was thatched with bundles of straw. The floorboards creaked softly underfoot, adding to the cozy, rustic feel of the space. The ceiling consisted of wooden rafters, which were visible between layers of thatch. Small gaps between the thatch allowed shafts of light to filter through, giving the room a warm and inviting glow.
She got off the bed and stretched again. Her muscles ached pleasantly, and she smiled to herself. She thought back at what she had accomplished since that fateful day.
The past month had been a whirlwind of activity, leaving Ebonheim physically and mentally exhausted every night. Ebonheim spent her days exploring the village and interacting with its residents. She walked through the village trails, visiting their homes and farms. She greeted everyone she met with a smile and a kind word, asked questions about the village and its people, and listened carefully as they told her stories and shared their experiences.
She watched as children played games and sang songs, laughed along with them as they made jokes, and she wiped away their tears when they wept. She enjoyed the moments she spent with each and everyone, whether they had anything special to share or not.
It wasn't always easy, though. People sometimes didn't want to talk to her. Some kept their distance, while others actively avoided her. Some villagers went about their daily chores with little interest in engaging with her.
Still, Ebonheim persevered. She spent hours talking to people, learning about their lives, and trying to make a good impression. She hoped they would begin to trust her more and open up to her.
During that time, the Akashic System displayed information regarding the village itself rather than her own.
Village Name: Ebonheim
Population: 717
Quintessence per Month: 752
Professions:
* Farmers: 276 people
* Hunters and Gatherers: 77 people
* Miners: 32 people
* Craftsmen: 123 people
* Guards and Soldiers: 70 people
* Druids and Arcanists: 20 people
* Healers: 43 people
* Village Elders: 16 people
* Unskilled: 60 people
Age Distribution:
* Children (ages 0-14): 103 people
* Adults (ages 15-64): 552 people
* Seniors (ages 65+): 62 people
Devotion Rank Distribution:
* Unbeliever: 0 people
* Follower: 584 people
* Believer: 125 people
* Worshipper: 8 people
* Devotee: 0 people
* Faithful: 0 people
* Disciple: 0 people
* Devout: 0 people
* Zealot: 0 people
Building Types:
* Houses: 163
* Farms: 44
* Workshops: 32
* Guard Towers: 4
* Market Square: 1
Special Resources:
* Ebon Trees
* Mine: Iron, Copper
She spent her nights before bed poring through the details but always ended up dozing off and forgetting about most of what she’s learned the next morning. The amount of information presented by the system was overwhelming, with extensive details about each term, correlations between terms, hierarchies, and numeric values, all seemingly endless. There were too many things to keep track of, and her average intelligence was proving to be inefficient. Perhaps next time she should invest more points into her Intelligence stat.
The elders have done a good job managing the village and there seemed no need for Ebonheim to tackle that role–maybe not yet. She already had a lot on her plate building rapport with the villagers. Going out and interacting with her people felt more gratifying than reading through layers and layers of text.
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Ebonheim emerged from her small hut with a small wooden bucket at hand and walked outside, eager to start the day's work. She stretched out her arms, enjoying the warmth on her skin as the morning air caressed her body. She reached behind her head and unbraided her long iridescent hair. It fell in waves over her shoulders and back, gleaming like liquid mercury under the sun. She breathed deeply, savoring the smell and taste of the air.
She walked past several houses until she reached the village well. After filling her bucket, she headed back to her hut, walking past the fields where the men were working. The sound of their voices drifted across the field as they talked among themselves, sharing jokes and stories. A few glanced her way, smiling warmly, before going back to work.
Once she got back to her hut, Ebonheim set the bucket down beside the hearth and inspected the fire from the single log from the Ebon tree that Bjorn and Thorsten felled. The log still burned just as intensely as the nights before.
[Ebon Log (x1)] Resource Type: Fuel. Burns one hundred times longer than other hardwood of similar mass. +10% to cooking and brewing.
After Ebonheim explained this property of the Ebon tree to the villagers, everyone wanted at least one in their household. She watched as the log burned slowly and steadily, without any need for additional wood or adjustments to the fire.
She filled a small iron pot with water from the bucket and placed it on the metal grate above the log. As the water began to heat, she retrieved some vegetables and herbs from a nearby shelf, chopping them into small pieces and adding them to the pot. She stirred the mixture with a large wooden spoon, inhaling the fragrant aroma of the herbs as they began to release their flavors into the soup. During the times she spent talking with the villagers, several of the womanfolk taught Ebonheim how to cook various dishes and this simple soup was one of them.
Once properly simmered, she ladled the hot soup into a bowl and ate slowly while looking at the commons through her open window.
As Ebonheim raised the spoon to her lips, she savored the aroma of the hot, steaming soup. But just as she took a sip, a sudden gruff cough erupted from the side of the window, causing her to choke on her broth. To her surprise, she jolted backward and fumbled her grasp of the bowl, spilling its contents down the front of her dress.
The scalding liquid burned as it soaked through the fabric, causing Ebonheim to yelp in both pain and surprise. She stumbled backward, flailing her arms as she tried to regain her balance, only to find herself slipping on the spilled soup and landing unceremoniously on the floor with a loud thud.
As she lay there, squirming and writhing, Ebonheim couldn't help but feel like a hapless fool. She flailed her arms and legs, trying to find some semblance of balance, but all she could manage were a series of awkward, twitching movements that only served to make her look more ridiculous.
The soup that had spilled on her chest had now seeped down into her undergarments, and she could feel the hot liquid burning against her skin in all the wrong places. She let out a pained groan, half from embarrassment and half from discomfort, as she tried to find a way to stand up without making things worse.
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The gruff cough from outside had now turned into a full-blown fit of laughter—Thorsten’s laughter.
She wobbled towards the door and opened it to see Thorsten’s towering form, hands on his belly, laughing like a walrus gasping for air.
Ebonheim’s eyes twitched as she glared at him while wrinkling her face into a forced smile. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” she asked.
“I only meant to grab your attention,” Thorsten responded. “The rest of that was your own doing, which by the way, is unbecoming of a goddess.”
“Anyone would have been startled when you did that!” She threw a flurry of playful jabs that bounced harmlessly on Thorsten’s belly, causing him to laugh even harder.
Thorsten folded his arms across his chest, his expression turning serious. "Well, I guess you should probably get changed before we meet with the other elders," he said as he waved his hand in a gesture for her to close the door.
Ebonheim grumbled and nodded, closing the door. She focused her mind on using her divine power. She ended up taking it as one of her other starting abilities.
[Divine Ability: Divine Cantrip activated]
[Essence] 190 -> 185
The air around her seemed to shimmer with energy. A soft breeze stirred the leaves of nearby trees, and the scent of freshly fallen rain filled the air. With a flick of her wrist, Ebonheim conjured a small burst of divine energy, directing it towards her soiled clothes. Instantly, the soup stains began to fade away, replaced by the clean, unblemished fabric beneath.
She repeated the process, cleaning the floor until the room once again smelled fresh and pleasant.
She headed back outside. “Alright you big lug, to the feast hall!”
Thorsten bowed in an overdramatic way towards her. “At your command, o’ goddess.”
Ebonheim stuck her tongue out at him.
The duo headed up the trail towards the feast hall.
“You’ve been busy this past month,” Thorsten said. “You’ll be off to do your usual routine after the meeting, I take it?”
Ebonheim nodded while glancing at the message displayed by the Akashic System.
[Daily Quest Complete (0/3)]
[Quest 1] Gather herbs and plants from the forest for use in medicines and food. Completion reward: 5 Quintessence
[Quest 2] Assist with farming and harvesting crops. Completion reward: 5 Quintessence
[Quest 3] Assist with tending the village’s livestock. Completion reward: 5 Quintessence
[Quest 4] Assist with building new structures within the village. Completion reward: 5 Quintessence
[Quest 5] Patrol the outskirts of the village and ensure the safety of its inhabitants from any potential threats. Completion reward: 5 Quintessence
[Quest 6] …
[Repeatable Quest] Increase a villager’s Devotion Rank by one. Completion reward: 5 Quintessence
Earlier in the month, the system provided her with a list of quests, three of which she could complete each day. The sixth quest varied each day, ranging from helping a villager with a specific task to giving advice or mediating between two or more people.
Between accumulating Quintessence passively every month and upon completion of her daily quests, getting to the next divine rank wouldn’t take too much time if she was diligent about her work.
“That’s right,” she answered. “There’s always things to do for the village. So if there's anything you need, let me know."
“I might take you up on that,” he said.
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The pair reached the entrance of the hall and walked inside. Engin and the rest of the elders greeted them as they entered.
Ebonheim took her seat at the head of the table. The other elders sat around the table in a semicircle facing her.
Engin cleared his throat. "Good morning, everyone. I only have a few things to report today. Firstly, thanks to Ebonheim's blessings, all of our crops will be yielding twice their usual harvest this year."
Some elders applauded, and others voiced their appreciation.
Ebonheim placed her hands on her hips and smiled with pride. "It's the least I could do."
[Name] Fecundity of Creation
[Effect] This ability enhances the fertility of the soil and the growth of the crops, resulting in a doubled yield of the harvest. The plants grow stronger and healthier, with larger and more plentiful fruits, vegetables, and grains.
[Range] 1 acre of land
[Duration] Until the next harvest season. The ability continues to affect the crops until they are ready to be harvested.
[Cost] 40 Essence.
It was a good choice to pick Fecundity of Creation as one of her new abilities.
"You did more than that," Hilda replied. "You restored the faith we had lost in gods, which is no small feat."
"Aye, no small feat indeed," Engin said. "You've also been making your way around the village and your contributions have been more than welcome."
"I'm glad to be of service," Ebonheim replied. She took a moment to assess the faces of each elder, trying to get a feel for their mood. "So, what else is on your minds?"
"Well," Engin continued. "While we are very thankful for having such a kind and generous goddess..." Engin fidgeted slightly as he looked at her. "There's been some complaints—very, very small ones mind you, about you being...how do I say—"
"Weak," Bjorn finished the sentence.
Ebonheim blinked, "Eh?"
Thorsten let out another thunderous laugh.
Engin shook his head and smiled. "We're not saying you're weak," he said. "It's just that some of us can't help but feel that we've grown accustomed to deities being strong and powerful. It's hard to adjust to a goddess who is so—"
"Puny," Bjorn finished the sentence.
Thorsten stumbled out of his chair, clutching his sides from laughter. Odette, who was sitting next to him, kicked him lightly.
Ebonheim could feel her face flush in embarrassment. She tried to keep her composure as she glared down at Thorsten. Weak? She'll show him weak. She was still looking for an ability that could cause baldness…and her potential target was rapidly switching to Thorsten.
"Now, none of us here really know exactly how powerful a god is supposed to be. Ionus is the only one among us who has witnessed two gods battling each other in personal combat. I'm not suggesting that you should demonstrate your strength to ease the worries of others but—"
"You need to lift," Bjorn interjected. "Logs."
"Bjorn, please!" said Corinna, who was sitting to his left. "You're asking too much of a child."
She approached Ebonheim from behind, embraced her, and patted her head. "Do you think her slender arms and soft hands could lift logs as well as you can? Don't be so unreasonable."
"But she is a goddess though," Sven said as he sipped on his morning mead. "Shouldn't she be naturally strong despite her appearance?"
Several of the elders shrugged.
"In any case," Engin said. "You don't need to pay it much mind. I'm sure we'll witness your true power and strength in the years to come."
Ebonheim sighed, rubbing her thumbs against her temple. She recalled the starting abilities she picked so far.
[Active Abilities] Ailment Cleansing Pulse, Divine Cantrip, Element-Resisting Aura, Vines of the Bramble King, Fecundity of Creation, Pest-Repelling Prana
None of the abilities she picked were flashy or destructive. The first one healed people, the second one did minor things, the third could help her survive hostile elemental conditions, the fourth could immobilize someone but it wasn’t necessarily all that good, the fifth was to help with harvests, and the last only created barriers against pests and vermin.
She had nothing to help her in combat aside from Entangle and Hilda had a stronger version. The only way she could get stronger is to either increase her divine rank or acquire more abilities using her Quintessence.
[Quintessence] 1998/8000
She’s saved up a lot by completing all of her quests every day as well as getting her monthly Quintessence from the villagers. It would pain her to use those precious points gifted to her by her people but spending them to make herself stronger would help the village in the long run. But—
A message from the Akashic System popped into Ebonheim’s view.
[Special Quest] Convince the villagers of your great power by displaying a feat of strength. Completion reward: 100 Quintessence, a slight increase to the villagers’ Devotion Rank.
"No," Ebonheim said boldly as she stood up from her seat, a firm determination burned in her eyes. "It's my fault for appearing to be weak. People are right to be skeptical of my strength."
“Are you sure?” Engin asked.
Ebonheim nodded and excused herself from Corinna's embrace.
She approached Thorsten who was still lying on the floor, chuckling. She loomed over him, arms folded across her chest. "Thorsten."
Thorsten blinked, wiping a tear off one eye. "Huh?"
She grinned. "Get up. I challenge you to a sparring match."