1 Soul Bound
1.1 Finding her Feet
1.1.3 An Eventful Journey
1.1.3.11 Grace
Tomsk briefed the others on chat, while she brought Dino back to camp, where the two women had arrived.
The larger of the two was wearing a fine dress, suitable for a merchant’s wife. She had a surly expression on her face as she gave the name “Carley” and claimed to be just a cook. However the dress didn’t fit quite right, especially around her beefy waist, and Kafana guessed she’d been happy enough to split the spoils of the bandits’ looting.
The other woman was barefoot and wearing barely enough rags to stay decent. Certainly not enough to stave off the chill or hide the reddened marks of thick rope being left tied too long around her wrists and neck. Her chestnut hair was thick and long enough to cover one eye as it hung down, held at bay only by a loop of rag that gathered it into a rough ponytail. Kafana couldn’t tell the woman’s skin colour under all the dirt and grime; it looked like she’d not been permitted to wash for several weeks. She was a slight woman, almost a waif, but there was an uncanny delicacy to her face; she had a pointed chin, a small mouth and a wide forehead, which drew attention to eyes that were large, sorrowful and the colour of polished oak.
Dino related what had happened, in vivid detail. Of the 8 without pendants, 7 asked to be allowed to try. 1, the captive, asked that instead she be taken to the city gates, but wouldn’t speak further, even to give her name, and refused all aid except basic food and water.
Dino rehearsed them for her, and gave them pretty much the same briefing as she’d given him, except gorier and shaking with the fanaticism of a new convert. The looks they gave her as she escorted them all back down the stream, accompanied by the rest of the party were apprehensive, as though they expected her to sprout angel wings, or perhaps demonic horns, at any moment.
She checked her mana level and then started. This time she had them stand in a circle around her, facing inward to where she held the stone and pendant above her head.
Tomsk started the drumming and the song was sung. 6 survived. Barely.
One died. Kafana had watched unable to intervene as Carley’s whole chest incinerated, leaving smoking charcoal where minutes before there’d been living flesh and bone. She stood there, shocked, Tomsk holding her, while the rest of the party led the ex-bandits back to the camp.
He gave her a gentle hug. “Death is never pleasant, sweet Kafana, nor is it good to get inured to it. But this death is not on your head. That was Cov’s judgement. Deities are real in this game. There’s a real expert system that decided what should happen, and whether it made its decision upon the ‘deeds’ of that woman in game, or upon what it felt was dramatically appropriate, we’ll never know. But either way, it decided, not you. What you did was to try your best, and what you achieved was saving 7 people from the death Wellington would surely have given them. “
“I know that in my head, Tomsk. But it will take time before I also feel the truth of it in my heart.”
“Cov, thank you for the justice you granted. Please, grant a little comfort to the tool you used, my precious Kafana.”
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Nothing happened. But she felt better, anyway. She always did around Tomsk.
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When dawn came, the group set off for the city. Kafana tried speaking out aloud a greeting to her vessel, and asking some ‘get to know you’ questions, then she told System to highlight that section of the walk for her vessel’s attention.
Bungo noticed, and asked what she was doing when she’d finished.
“Sending a dream memo to Vessel Kafana from Spirit Kafana.” she grinned and tried imitating System’s voice: “Vessel’s mailbox now has two unread dream messages. Would you like to dream your first message?”
Alderney: “I’m up to 17 messages already. I want her ideas on things for me to create. What did you talk about?”
Kafana: “I tried getting to know her. I should have also told her about me, but I wasn’t sure what to say. Why am I here? What do people, I mean arlife people, get out of spending time in games? What are we, as a party, for? What is our purpose, our function in this ecosystem? What’s our motto?”
Alderney: “Make a better world, one cool item at a time.”
Wellington: “Apparently, your purpose here is to ask hard questions, Kafana.”
Tomsk: “Just because a question is hard, that doesn’t mean it isn’t worth asking. I think the struggle of coming up with answers to them, new creative answers, improves us.”
Bungo: “Perhaps we are Arabian d'jinni, here to grant impossible wishes in improbable ways.”
Bulgaria: “Forgive me for speaking. You say Spirit Bulgaria inspired you all? What was his method of teaching. Is it possible that he has given you this time together without him, specifically so that you can answer that very question about group purpose for yourself without his input?”
Kafana: “Let’s combine our answers. The purpose of our group here in Soul Bound is to improve the lives of everybody in it, by asking the hard questions that lead to cool and better ways of granting people’s wishes.”
Bungo: “Too lengthy. You can’t shout that as a battle cry. You’d remember it differently each time.”
Wellington: “The core seems to be cool ways of granting good wishes. Tomsk, you’re good with flowery words. How should that be phrased?”
Tomsk: “How does ‘Free the minds and you change the world!’ sound.”
Bulgaria: “It sounds like a purpose to me. Well done. I agree.” something about the figure’s body language and tone of voice changed.
Alderney: “Bulgaria!”
Kafana: “Damn, I should have remembered that he always was the best actor among us.”
Wellington couldn’t decide between looking impressed, and being annoyed at himself for missing the clues.
Bungo: “Did we pass?”
Bulgaria, teasing, a vivacity showing in his eyes: “Hmm, weeeeeeell…”
Alderney: “I warn you, I’ll kick you.”
Bulgaria raised his hands: “Ok, ok, yes, you all pass. And I’ll tell you what my suggested plans are….. after we’re safely settled in the city.”
Kafana swore at him, loudly.
But she hugged him anyway.