“What do the tunic colours signify?” I asked Kril as we skirted around the settlement towards his yurt. The bags weren’t heavy and the earlier exercise had helped clear away the stiffness in my muscles.

“Hmm? Some dyes are expensive. The fewer people you see wearing a colour the richer they likely are,” he replied absently. He had grown quieter and quieter on the journey home. I was beginning to worry about the cogs that were no doubt whirring in his brain. I had no intention of founding an empire or taking control of the plains folk. I had five marks to deal with and then I could go home.

However, the advantage of spending some time with a local scholar and leader who had sworn to serve me couldn’t hurt. That he also seemed to have a plan to help me rapidly gain some Souls was too good to pass up.

“So red is high caste, yellow, green and blue is low caste?” I asked.

“More or less. Brighter colours cost more too so dull colours tend to represent lower status folks within each class. If you ever see someone wearing even a dull purple they’ll be a powerful man. Or married to one.”

He hurried us through the encampment and immediately screamed for Gedrik as we reached his tent. The boy appeared from under a different wagon to his usual nest and bowed his head. He shot me a scowl as he did so.

“Refill the barrel,” Kril snapped and the boy hurried away towards the centre of town. “Come in, boy. We need to talk.”

By “talk” Kril meant interrogating me exhaustively about my magic and the system. His eyes were wide and bright when he finally felt he’d dragged everything he could out of me.

“You can buy materials in the Shop?” he asked like a giddy schoolboy.

“Sure. They’re all too expensive to be worth it though,” I replied. “I’d rather spend the points on levels or magic.”

“An immediate return on investment is the way of fools. Boy, how much do you think this is worth?” he pulled out his bronze dagger and the edge glinted in the dim light from the smoke hole above.

“What currency do you use? In my world it wouldn’t be worth much. Certainly not the-” I checked in the Shop for an equivalent, “-seventy Souls it would cost me.”

“Currency is for city-dwellers. Shit-sitters the tribes call them. Little clay tablets and metal trinkets. Here a man is valued by the size of his herd. I told you I had three bulls and a dozen heifers. That makes me rich, boy. It would take a pair of heifers, good milkers mind you, for me to sell this blade.” He slipped it back in the sheath at his belt.

“Where is your wealth? The herds are just wandering about the plains with a few kids guarding them. Don’t they get lost or eaten by vile-bears?”

“Pah, we’re good at what we do. A few are lost to predators but this is tame land. It’ll be different where we’ll be going though.” Another cackle split the air.

“What's your plan, Kril? I’d be happy enough to set some traps and gather Souls that way.”

“Idiot. You’re thinking small. First we go north and hunt the great-tusks. If we can find a vile-herd of pachyderms you’ll be able to grow so strong Hakubin and his arms men will have to give you respect. On the way the tundra and forests will provide rich pickings for your traps.” He sounded so sure of himself I found I was nodding along with his words.

“Just you and me in the wild hunting herds of giant elephants? Alone I could manage perhaps but I can’t promise to keep you safe.”

“I’m no woman, boy. I can care for myself. We wouldn’t go alone anyway. We would need a Kend and you, my God-touched friend, are in luck. It will help establish you as a man and justify your emancipation when the time comes.”

“You plan to free me? Why not just do that and I’ll head south?”

“The mob would be against it and as a result, against you, fool. We need to gradually reveal your abilities to a few chosen members of the families. Back to the fucking point boy: you can buy bronze weapons, what about the raw material?”

“It’s… a hundred and fifty Souls for an ingot of bronze shaped like a hide. I can get copper and tin ingots for seventy each.”

“For three hundred Souls you could buy half the herds of every family in Areskit! We have no smiths here, shit sitters don’t let smiths come north to trade with us directly. The Jagarn clan to the south has one, last I heard. Sulk has a strange story and he’s mad as all smiths are but he might be… You said you cannot imbue your magic in items bought from the Shop? So you must craft them yourself or find talents to do it for you.” He fixed me with a beady stare. “You need us more than you think, boy.”

“I work best on my own.” It was a simple fact. I’d never used a team for jobs back home and any support I had required was a one off and done kind of deal, only used when absolutely necessary.

“Not anymore. Do you need anything urgently? I have things to organise and Aresk hates time wasters.”

“No. Should I just stay here?” I asked, looking around the tent.

“For now. I won’t be long. You’ll have a busy evening though.” Kril rushed out the tent muttering to himself too low for me to catch all of what he was saying but I did catch the word “feast” at least twice in the seconds it took his ramblings to fade away as he ran from the tent.

I sat down with my back resting against the wooden lattice that made up the internal supports for the yurt and rested an elbow on the chest next to me. Kril seemed like a godsend, quite literally, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I didn’t want to play the Game as the gods thought I should. If I could find the others it would be a simple enough matter to assassinate them. The only one I was genuinely concerned about was Gallagher. Unless I caught him completely unawares it would be tough to kill him. Then the worries set in.

What if the others were already stronger than me? I’d wasted so many days since I arrived, either injured or unconscious or now as a sort-of-slave… Maybe I needed Kril’s help more than I was willing to admit? I wasn’t happy at the thought of going north but I was last to arrive in this world. Aresk had as good as told me the others were south of here. Then again… the vile-bear had been worth sixteen Souls and I began to speculate how much I would get for killing what sounded like woolly mammoths.

“Master?” I was lost in thought so I ignored Gedrik’s soft voice.

The tent flap to my left lifted slowly and cautiously. The boy crept in and went directly to the far wall where one of Kril’s chests was placed. He lifted the lid cautiously and snuck a hand in, pulling out a small pouch. He tipped some of the contents into his palm and turned to leave. He jumped as he spotted me and thrust both hands behind his back.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“What are you doing, slave?” he snapped, but he wasn’t able to keep a quaver out of his tone. “The master has told me to get you to refill the barrel! Outside now!” His high pitched voice had firmed up. I rose to my feet, head brushing the roof of the tent as I was near the edge.

“What was that?” I asked, pointing towards the chest.

“Master asked me to fetch something for him. It’s none of your concern, slave. Come along!” He marched out of the tent. I sat back down and waited.

“Slave! One cry from me and a dozen warriors will be here to slay you!” Gedrik snarled as he burst back into the tent. Whatever he had stolen he must have hidden away somewhere nearby as both hands were animated now as he blustered back into the tent.

“Gedrik, what did you steal?” I asked calmly.

“Slaves don’t interrogate freemen.”

“You’re a boy!” I scoffed. He bristled in response.

“Still higher than a slave! I’ll tell you what, how about I fill the water barrel as a token of goodwill and in return you don’t mention what you saw?” he asked, going from angry to wheedling as the realisation sank in that no matter how loud he screamed he wouldn’t escape if I chose to attack. My blue eyes glared up at him to drive home the point.

“What was it?” I asked.

“Nothing a godless foreigner would need to know about. It’s for my training to replace Master Hakukril.” He was trying to sidle back to the tent flap without being obvious about it.

“Boy! What the hell are you doing in my tent?” Kril demanded from behind him. The boy looked like was about to wet himself.

“Just checking that your slave was recovering well, master. I was offering to prepare some herbs for him should he need them!” Gedrik squeaked. He turned pleading eyes on me.

“I don’t think that will be necessary, boy. I notice the barrel isn’t refilled?” Kril’s voice was cold. The boy squeaked and fled the tent.

“Useless brat,” Kril muttered fondly after the boy had fled. “I have a job for you tonight.” The word job stirred up old habits. Was the target a criminal? Would my code let me take the money?

“Who’s the mark?” I asked automatically.

“The mark?” Kril looked confused as he sat down on his furs.

“The target,” I said flatly.

“Oh she’s a right bitch. A great big lump of evil and mean.” Kril smirked. I hadn’t seen anyone in the encampment who matched that description. One thing these steppe people didn't have a problem with was obesity.

“The queen?” I guessed in a suspicious voice and Kril broke into cackling laughter.

“An aurox you fucking idiot. We’re throwing a bit of a celebration and I decided to make it a night to remember.”

A few hours later I was clean and freshly shaved. Kril had insisted on cutting my hair. The fringe had been sliced short and the sides of my head were shorn down to the skin. A fresh tunic, pure white this time, had been provided and I felt very strange.

“Why the white? No one wears white,” I asked as Kril fussed around in his chest looking for something.

“It’s part of the ritual. Look, all you have to do is say ‘for Aresk’ as you slit the heifers throat. It’s not that hard. Ah found it!” He brought out a slim package wrapped in leather. He unwrapped it and revealed a bone dagger almost as long as my forearm. The polish on it gleamed in the firelight.

“This is what you’ll use. I’ll carry it for now. If you get seen with a weapon you’ll get swarmed." He turned and looked me over. "Excellent, you look just like a Crathan peasant! That means a slave to us, boy!” he chuckled. “I’ve made arrangements with the Hatrik family. They're a powerful faction that's opposed to our dear monarch. If any of them choose to speak to you this evening, be very polite. Their people will be joining me on our little expedition. In fact if anyone chooses to speak to you tonight be very polite.” he added as an afterthought.

“So I kill the aurox, get some Souls and then fade into the background?” I asked hopefully.

“Only if you’re lucky. Our noble ruler will be in attendance and some of his arms men might single you out. Don’t kill any of them! You know how to take a beating, I trust?” Kril asked as he ran the dagger over a rough stone to refresh the fragile bone edge. I nodded as he glanced up.

“Better to just take it tonight than fight back. We’ll be gone by noon tomorrow.”

As I was led through the tents it felt like I was going to be on the receiving end of the sacrificial knife. Whatever word Kril had spread it had gone round the close knit group quickly and everyone was making their way towards the clearing at the heart of the encampment.

Walking behind Kril I kept my eyes low, as I’d been instructed. A long fire pit had been dug and it was already filled with glowing coals, a pile of dried wood had been built to one side to keep it stoked. The largest tent in the camp loomed off to one side. A pair of men, wearing the leather aprons that passed for armour here, stood outside the entrance fingering their stone maces and glaring at everyone who got near them.

I was taken aback by the numbers that had gathered. A few hundred people would be nothing back on Earth but even at home I’d rarely attended large gatherings outside of work. And when I was working I tended not to stick around after the job was done for obvious reasons. Kril had me stand to, at something like attention, with Gedrik slouched next to me as he made a speech.

“Noble brothers! Ladies of the tribe! I have been blessed with a true-dream! In celebration I have called for a feast!” He called out, pacing back and forth like a cockerel and using his wheezing high pitched voice again. “Aresk has demanded I travel north and acquire three sets of great-tusks! House Hatrik has offered to assist me in this endeavour! Aresk see’s their bravery!”

A relatively tall man, still short by my standards, stepped forward and bowed to Kril. His tunic was a bruised red colour, not as bright as Hakubin’s but the closest shade to it that I’d seen. His entire family wore the same from what I could see as they mimicked the bow after the patriarch had straightened. They were short and stocky like all the Areskyn but there was a single exception.

A woman caught my eye. The tallest of her family's heads barely reached her chin. She had high cheekbones and a strong jawline that might have been described as handsome, at best, back on Earth. As her head rose from the bow her almond shaped eyes locked with my own and her full lips quirked into a faint smile. The eyes changed my mind: she was undoubtedly a beauty. Her hair was hidden by a dull red shawl but I fancied it was something other than the ruddy brown or black of the rest of the tribe.

Kril prattled on for a while about the holy quest Aresk had decided to demand of him, the greatness of the tribe, the manliness of their warriors… I would have been at risk of falling asleep on my feet except for those almond eyes that I kept noticing glance in my direction

“Enough Hakukril! Make the sacrifice and let us start cooking your generous offering,” Hakubin snapped. A large wooden chair had been brought out like it was a throne and set up next to the fire pit. It was the first proper furniture I’d seen since being in the camp. He had sat on it and spent his time splitting his glares between myself and his uncle. I'd carefully avoided meeting his eyes.

“Bring out the offering!” Kril called. Gedrik shot away, stumbling over his own feet towards the palisade and the penned animals that lived just inside it. A minute later he returned, leading an aurox that snorted and tugged at the rope tied around her neck. On either side walked a pair of goats, their leads held in Gedrik’s free hand. They looked terrified of the massive bovine between them. Scared bleating echoed out continuously.

I killed the goats first, calling out “For Aresk!” each time. The smell of blood had spooked the aurox and she shied away, refusing the pressure from the halter as Gedrik tried to bring her into position. I moved over, bloody bone dagger held behind me, and grabbed a horn to drag her into position. As soon as I had hold of her Gedrik bolted back to hide at the edge of the throng. So many eyes watching me, so many eyes marking my appearance. It made my back itch. I was meant to be a grey man, forgettable and unremarkable yet here I was conducting an animal sacrifice with an entire town of savages staring at me.

The aurox still wasn’t happy but when she tried to toss her head and found that my grip yanked her back into position without difficulty she became more obedient. My feet left deep impressions in the earth as I pulled her into position against her will.

“Sorry girl,” I whispered. The knife flashed and my legs were coated in crimson as I called out “For Aresk!” at the top of my lungs. I felt a brief sense of being in a shield wall as the blood soaked my feet.

“Get him out of my sight!” barked Hakubin, waving a hand at me.

“Of course, mighty King,” Kril said loudly with a faint hint of a smirk in his voice. He hurried over to me and handed me a basket covered with a cloth lid. “Keep that steady. I’ve put a little of the good stuff in there for you. Get on back to my tent,” he said with a wink.

Normalis Caprae slain x2.

Six Souls gathered.

Normalis Aurox slain.

Six Souls gathered.