Head propped up on a bundle of rabbit fur, Zero gazed idly at the clouds streaking across the morning sky as he lay sprawled on the back of the cart. Old Ned set an easy pace as they travelled from the forest and onto the rough country road, the rolling landscape passing by sedately as they set out towards direction of the village. Dorin sat in the front of the cart beside the gruff-natured farmer, the wild tangle of his hair and his mix-and-match ensemble of animal fur and hunting leathers a stark contrast to the bald, bent old man in brown overalls. Zero had no intention of spending a bumpy, uncomfortable ride sitting beside the two geriatrics as they argued back and forth over a myriad of mundane topics, choosing instead to rest his tired, sore body bundled up in the back together with the pelts and smoked venison they would be selling in the village. Zero's brow knotted in irritation as another argument flared up between the two men, this time between which tavern can best satisfy their taste for brewed beverages. Ugh, just cut it already you two, Zero thought. Acting like kids at kindergarten, you should be ashamed. No that he would actually get in between the two cantankerous old drunkards.
"A full tankard of ale at The Flying Rooster costs but half a copper," pleaded Old Ned. "Betsy's grown sweet on me due ter my steady patronage. She'd let us have a cask fer ourselves fer only 5 coppers easy. That''ll get us sloshed fer the whole night Dorin!"
"Bah," the other man scoffed. "I've no patience for watered-down swill. Alvere's apple brandy is what we're drinking and nothing else, you hear?
"Kuh! I never figured ye for a wine 'con-o-sure' ye stinky old fart. Alvere doesn't sell cheap; he'll bleed us a full silver just fer a few measly cups, the sly bastard."
"What did you say you dead-tongued cheapskate?"
"The Nothing take ye, ye getting deaf as well as daft ye slimy old codger?" Old Ned shouted.
"Why you-?!"
Zero ignored the rest of the argument as he tugged a rabbit pelt over his eyes. Idiots, the both of you. He spent the time cloud watching, eyes starting to get heavy as the rhythm of the cart lulled him to slowly to sleep. He yawned loudly as he stretched among the bags of musky fur and smoked meat, the smells doing nothing to alleviate his drowsiness. The morning sun warmed his body as a gentle summer breeze sighed in a soporific whisper all around him, pulling him into a cozy embrace. Even the loud squabbling of the two old men overhead was reduced to a muted buzz, almost unheard in the background as he sank into a sweet, semi-conscious state.
This is almost nice in a way, reminds me of the time we went to a beach and just dozed off on the reclining beach chairs. Learned how to make a fire and cook my first outdoor barbecue that day too. My old man always told me those will be useful skills to learn for the future. Come to think of it, I've been here ten days and I've yet to pick up any game skills apart from Appraisal and the Leviantho language skill. Don't I get like Advanced Butchering or Basic Trapping or something? I thought crafting materials granted XP too. I should have like at least gained two or three levels from trapping and tanning animal pelts. Seriously this system is crap, give me easy OP main characters any time of the- His thoughts cut off as sleep took him.
--
"It's basic 'rithmetic ye puffed-up musclehead!" Old Ned shouted. "Cheaper drinks means more drinks to buy! I ain't wasting me hard-earned coin just fer a few sips of fancy wine. Just because ye worked fer them nobles once don't mean ye get ter learn them snobby ways too, ye numbskull."
"You're fatter than me you hardheaded fool!" Dorin pointed out. "And what's it to you how much it costs anyway? I'll be paying for our drinks you idiot!"
"Ha! You'd need a lot more than tattered rabbit and deer pelts ter get drunk on Alvere's apply brandy," retorted the other man. "Even [Merchants] from Hon Jin come there to buy whole wagonloads of it from him! If Alvere had any ambition he won't just settle fer a village mayor; He'd be a fuckin' town provost," He boasted.
"Well, well, look at you," the old [Hunter] answered. "I never would have guessed you'd have a head for politics Ned; I figured the alcohol'd already toast whatever brain you'd have inside there. Now," Dorin said quickly, forestalling Ned's reply. "I recently hunted and butchered an Obsidian Bear, so if you wanted to know where'd I'd get the money to pay for our drinks, well there you have it." He said, reaching over and opening a sack near the side of Zero's head.
"Woo hoo hoo," Ned cackled in delight as he ran his hand over the dark, furry pelt. "This would fetch fer a pretty penny, it would. Beg yer forgiveness my friend, I should'na doubted ye," he flashed a gap-toothed grin at the wild-haired man.
Dorin laughed. He patted the other man's shoulders as they shared excited grins. "Ned my friend I swear to you: We'll dine on Herman's honey-roasted bear steak and Alvere's world famous apple brandy tonight. The Nothing take my eyes if we don't."
A sudden loud sob broke their laughter. Two sets of eyes looked at the sleeping figure lying on the back of the cart. The young man curled into a fetal position as his body was rocked by loud, heaving sobs, tears flowing freely from his shut eyes. Mirth evaporated into somber, awkward gazes as the boy cried with all the bitterness of a shattered soul.
Ned glanced at the old [Hunter], eyebrows raised at the sad, unsurprised expression on Dorin's face.
"How long have ye known?" The old farmer asked quietly.
None of them were strangers to grief. Both have known the sorrow of burying friends and loved ones, and they have had their share of tearful partings as well. The young man's strangled cries tugged at their heartstrings as they remembered the times they found themselves in similar situations. Which all the more piqued Ned's curiosity. How much pain and sorrow has this young man suffered, for him to cry out so?
"Since the first night I fished him out of the river," Dorin answered solemnly. "Every single night afterwards he does this in his sleep. The strangest thing though," he continued as he looked at Ned, who listened to every word with bated breath. "He wakes up with no knowledge of having cried at all. It's unnerving how he wakes up and with nary a care in the world. He doesn't even notice his wet face and tear-stained pillow."
"A peculiar thing, that." Ned agreed. "Ye reckon the kid may be bonkers? Maybe let an Imperial Magus take a gander at him, check for Domination curses or some such. He could be a spy," he suggested helpfully.
Dorin shook his head slightly. "Wouldn't be possible. His Profile was all set to Public; he's as inconspicuous as a brick thrown into a glass window. No, he's just another sad idiot that just wants to go back home," he finished with a glum expression.
Ned started to reply but cut himself short at the unhappy look in the other man's eyes.
"Yes," he agreed morosely. "I reckon yer right." A gloomy hush descended and put an end to their conversation.
After what seemed like ages the young mans shuddering ceased and the sobbing stopped as his loud snores filled the air. In both men's eyes were looks full of kindness and pity. As if in quiet agreement both men turned theirs eyes back to the road, sharing an uncomfortable silence as they lost themselves in their own thoughts and sorrows.
The old farmer was the one to break the silence. Staring into the far off distance, Ned asked Dorin in apprehension, taking care not to glance sideways at the old man.
"Why are ye helping the lad?"
"It's none of your business you nosey piss-artist."
Ned ignored the other man's abrasiveness. "The lad has a lover waiting fer him back home, dun't he?"
Dorin hesitated, taking a few long seconds before answering. "That he does."
Ned sneaked a glance at the other man's tight-jawed, thin-lipped expression. "It do make sense now, why yer so set on helping the kid this much," he said, shaking his head in wonder. "It's been forty years and yer still beating yerself over that thing?"
"Don't say it, you old fool." Dorin warned, eyes flashing in anger.
"I'll say it however many times it takes ye gormless twat," snapped the other man. "Lillian never blamed you fer everything that's happened. Loved ye with all her heart, she did, even after ye left ter fight in the war. The Blood Emperor owes his throne ter ye, and Lillian was proud as lioness everytime she heard of yer victories. First Ascended Human ter come from this shitty backwoods village; ye shoulda let them build a statue fer ye."
"No," Dorin growled. "If.. If I'd known, I'd have left everything behind and come back here as fast as I could." He bowed his head, clenched fists trembling on his knees. "Nothing is worth it to leave your wife to die alone." He locked gazes with Ned, naked pain showing in his steel-blue eyes .
To his credit, Ned didn't back down from that stare, answering with a challenging stare of his own.
"Ye damned fool," he scoffed. "After all this time ye still can't forgive yerself? Too much pride and not much sense, is what Lillian'd say. Sometimes she'd tell that she may have hit ye too many times on the head with a pan, thought she turned yer brain into mush."
"As if she'd stopped doing that even if I begged on my knees," Dorin replied, finally cracking into a smile. "She was a tough, no-nonsense woman."
"Aye, that she is," Ned agreed. "Had ter be tough as nails, what with ye being her husband and all. So," he began. "Haven't changed yer mind about helping the young lad?"
"No," Dorin said, shaking his head, continuing in a more serious tone. "I've been observing him the past few days. Even if I trained him for 3 years straight he'd still be liable to die alone out there. I mean to take him with me on a ferry downriver to Three Bridges, the temple of Sagina there should have a [Mage] capable of long-distance Teleportation. If not we'd probably travel all the way to Lunayyed and request for a Transfer via one of the Blue Gates."
Ned whistled through his teeth. "Would take a lot of gold ter fund that trip. Sagina's [Mage]s are a prickly and arrogant bunch; their service won't come cheap. And it takes a royal command ter use the Blue Gates." His eyes narrowed at Dorin. "D'ye mean ter come out of retirement? Will Hamarodorin, the Blue-eyed Steel Griffin, come back ter life once again? Well color me excited."
"None of that now," Dorin snapped. "That man is dead. I am Dorin, just an old [Hunter] from the high plains. If anything," he said, touching the sword at his side. "This old antique may just be enough to fund our trip altogether, if someone at Three Bridges is willing to buy this useless relic. I also have a few debts owed me that I can... collect along the way." He admitted reluctantly.
Ned snorted. "That 'sword' costs more than the whole of Three Bridges and ye know that. Let's hope some rich fool takes that thing off yer hands before they discover its real worth or ye'd either have an angry mob stringing ye up fer stealing from the 'Reaper of Esta Clavo' or worse: a pile of worshippers throwing themselves on the feet of the Steel Griffin, Savior of the Empire." He snickered.
"They can try," laughed the wild-haired man in return. "I'm old, not decrepit. Let's not talk about that for now. I'm more concerned about the different ways old Herman can cook this tasty bastard." he said, patting the bulging sack on the back of the cart.
"The sooner we can get ter Edegarten village the sooner we can get ourselves properly bashed and plastered." Ned concurred with glee. He whipped his reigns and the dappled nag trotted faster along the beaten road. "Forward ye lazy horse! Daylight's wasting for dear Ned and Dorin here!"
--
Zero opened his eyes and stretched lazily on top of the scattered bags with a happy expression on his face. What a power nap, he thought in sweet satisfaction. He sat up and discovered the reason for his waking up. The cart had stopped in front of a large wooden gate surrounded by a palisade made of matching logs of wood. The sweet scent of apples filled the air, and Zero saw that apples trees dotted the landscape from both sides of the road. The river now meandered in the distance and had grown into a montrosity almost eighty meters across at its widest point. Opposite the river on the other side of the road stretched orchards and various huts and houses on wide fields of grain. Looking at the road, Zero saw the diminished yet still-imposing peaks of the Alekhandres in the distance. He quickly made his calculations. A three-hour journey by cart, possibly five to six hours on foot. Let's hope it doesn't come to that. Already he had formed an attachment to the secluded and dangerous mountain and its surroundings. NO! What the fuck stop wimping out on me. Don't be a pussy, you can do this! Zero thought determinedly. Noticing his movement, Ned greeted him from the front of the cart.
"Good morning lad! Did ye sleep well on the trip?"
Zero narrowed his eyes at the old man in suspiciously. Something's up, this Ned is unusually too cheerful for comfort. The sideways glances Ned was making at Dorin made him more leery of the man.
"Good morning to you too Ned," he replied politely. "What can I do for you?"
"Oh, nothing much," the old man answerely sheepishly. "Just making sure yer up and about is all."
"Stop playing with him Ned," barked Dorin suddenly, taking a quick look at Zero. "We're here. Welcome to Edegarten."
Zero ignored the two old men as a string of notifications rang in his head.
You have arrived at Edegarten Village safe zone. SP regen +.001 SP/sec
Exploration bonus: +100 xp
You have recovered from Fatigue:low
Well, Zero thought. That was unexpected. Still that's one hundred less rabbits to kill so yay for me, wooo. He mentally closed the notifications and focused on the sight in front of him. The wooden palisade stretched and curved almost three hundred meters from both sides of the open gate, standing up to fifteen meters to its sharpened peaks. I may be wrong but that wall is around one-and-a half basketball rings high, and based on the dimensions, may cover enough ground as the RMS Titanic. So around ten to eleven city blocks big huh? The gate itself was no different from the walls except that it was bound by two thick sheets of iron on each side. Six guards clad in leather jerkins, bracers and studded caps protected the entrance, carrying various polearms from the simple pike to the more complex glaive or guisarme, standing in front of a line of carts, wagons, horses, and disheveled travellers walking on foot, barring them entrance into the gates. Two of them accompanied a scowling man wearing a green cape and feathered hat, possibly a bureaucrat, evident by the haughty stare and impatient expression on his face as he accosted the persons on the line and waving them in as he wrote their details in a ledger tucked under his arm, tearing a piece of paper from it and handing it to the people as they passed by. The line progressed quickly and with no incident, despite green cape's overbearing demeanor.
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"The Nothing take my eyes it's Pyotir," grumbled old Ned as they moved forward. "Piling up them lines again. Ye'd think he was guarding the inner sanctum ter Eyoma's temple, the way he fuzzes about 'background checks' and Profile Appraisals.
"Just a little bit of zeal," replied Dorin patiently. "You can't fault the lad for taking his job seriously. As for you," he turned and glowered at Zero. "You keep your head down, keep your answers short, and don't ask too many questions. Understood?"
"I'm all for keeping my head down," Zero replied tersely. "But you need to cut me some slack here. There's so many things I need to understand about this place and you barely give me any answers at all. How am I to get back home if I don't bother to learn anything?"
"The kid has a point," agreed Ned.
Dorin huffed irritably. "I'll give you a chance to cut loose later; I know someone who'd be happy to answer all your questions. For now just leave the talking to us and if anyone talks to you keep your answers short and simple."
"Understood." Zero acquiesced. Not like I have any choice in the matter.
They waited for a tense few minutes for their turn as green cape obsessively inspected each and every person, cart, and horse on the line.
"Boy," Dorin called out. "He's gonna use Appraisal on us. Set your Profile from Private to Social. Do it fast."
"Fine." Profile set to Social, profile set to Social, profile set to Social.
Profile set from Private to Social. Information available upon Appraisal is: Name Level Class Age Sex Race
Ned pushed the cart forward. Green cape aka Pyotir, turned a baleful eye on all of them, sniffing in distaste.
"Yo Pyotir me boy," Ned greeted. "Come say hello ter yer uncles Ned and Dorin."
Pyotir's back stiffened and his pointed chin rose. In a haughty voice he reprimanded them. "You will address me as Sir Deputy Imperial Magistrate Pyotir al Rabban, and you will be silent while I perform my imperial functions or prepare to be punished to the full extent of the law!" He finished shrilly, face red in fury.
Zero struggled to keep a straight face. Oh God this is precious! He thought, trying hard to stifle his laughter. Between Pyotir's rail thin body, short stature, his large beak of a nose, the feathered cap and green cape, Zero was reminded very much of an angry, squeaking... parrot. The imagery pushed him into further convulsions as he tried to restrain his mirth.
"You there!" the angry bureaucrat visited his ire on Zero. Uh oh. He suddenly found himself staring closely at the man's furious grey eyes. "Do you find this funny, boy? You dare insult an Imperial functionary? I should have you whipped and put in stocks as a warning to those who spit on the Blood Emperor's God-given authority!" He hissed so hard bits of spittle hit Zero's face, as the two guards behind him shifted their grip on their weapons. The hooked guisarmes gleamed viciously in the sun.
Okay, this is getting out of hand. Before Zero was able to utter a single word two sets of strong hands grabbed him and covered his mouth.
"My nephew did not mean any disrespect, magistrate," Dorin said placatingly, holding Zero in a tight headlock. "A bit slow in the head, and ignorant in the ways of the world. My younger sister sent him to me so I could teach him my craft. If you could but Appraise him you would know the weakness in him, a poor bout with sickness in his earlier years. You are the first Imperial Officer that my nephew has met; what better way to show him the mercy and magnanimity of his Majesty's anointed officials." He finished with a sincere and respectful bow, followed shortly by Ned and Zero on his signal.
"Well, it is true that his majesty's officers are selected from among the empire's finest, most upstanding individuals," Pyotir agreed, mollified by Dorin's flattery. He looked again at Zero, and manage a lecture that only came off as slightly less arrogant. "Young man, would do well to learn your uncle's manners. Boorish brute he might appear to be, but I've known him for quite some time and I pride myself on being able to identify his majesty's most loyal and law-abiding citizens regardless of their appearance. Do not waste this second opportunity to develop yourself into a productive member of the empire."
I think I'm going to puke, Zero thought. I should be more careful of accidentally insulting another bureaucrat again. Bears are safer in comparison to these prickly bastards. The guards, sensing an end to hostilities, relaxed again into their usual bored expressions.
"My gracious thanks, magistrate." Dorin said in undisguised relief.
"All is forgiven, my kind sir," Pyotir replied, fully engrossed in acting the part of the merciful lord. "Let's proceed with the inspection. Please sit straight and do not resist my Appraisal."
A crawling sensation came over Zero, as if his body was being slowly dipped into a pool of wriggling worms. He stiffened and instinctively tried to fight the revolting feeling, until he felt a painful rap on his head.
"Don't fight it," came Dorin's angry whisper. "It will be over quickly if you let it do its work." It took a great deal of effort on his part to relax and accept the invasive feeling. In the blink of an eye the sensation vanished, leaving him bug-eyed and gasping for breath.
Oh Gods, I think I really am going to puke.
The magistrate wrote quickly in his ledger, reciting the details of the inspection without paying the slightest heed to Zero's expression. "One level 4 Human named Zero," he began, shaking his head in distaste. "No job class. You're not wrong old man you're nephew is weak and useless; Let's pray that Aa Nuld smile on your endeavor and give you a strong, well-trained nephew." He said with a smug look at Zero. Without skipping a beat he continued his recitation. "Nedson Tark, level 32 Human with 17 levels in [Soldier] and 9 levels in [Farmer]. Uncle Ned you could have gone far in his majesty's royal military, but you decided to retire and become a drunk farmer instead. A tragic waste, that," He grimaced in disappointment.
Zero and Ned shared a look. Ned just shrugged and put his palms up. What can I do? He seemed to say. They looked again at the magistrate, who was now staring at Dorin, eyebrows knitted in concentration while the old man kept a blank expression, facing straight forward in his seat. After a while the magistrate sighed and gave up, hand slowly writing his third entry.
"That's odd," he began, frowning in confusion. "I could have sworn that..." He shook himself and resumed writing again.
"Dorin, level 64 Human... 53 levels in [Hunter]..." He stared at the last line for a few more minutes before making a decision. He looked up from his ledger and scowled at Dorin in suspicion. "I'd have thought that by raising my Appraisal to level 5 I would have a bit more luck in reading your profile, old man Dorin. It would seem I was wrong."
"I'm an old man hunting small game and eating wild herbs on a mountainside Pyotir," Dorin answered nonchalantly. "I'd like to think the empire need not fear any danger from me."
"The empire has bigger things to worry about than a dying old man in the woods," The deputy magistrate answered in a pompous tone. He tore the piece of paper from his ledger and handed it to Ned.
"You can all pass; your information has been linked to the save point in the village hall. That piece of paper is attuned to your mana signatures so don't lose it or you'd pay a hefty fine as well confinement while we investigate any crimes committed in the village. If proven guilty for those crimes their punishments will be added to the fine as well. Please present that to the mayor or his assistant in order to get your exit passes. Losing that will earn you twenty lashes, and the same penalties as losing your entry pass. Next!" He ignored their moving cart as he turned his attention to the next group, a family of seven huddled closely in a rickety wagon.
They all breathed a collective sigh of relief as they passed by the remaining guards and entered the village proper. Zero had no time to appreciate the view however, as Dorin's angry face loomed into his vision.
"What were you thinking you stupid boy, laughing at him like that?" He growled, cold blue eyes boring into him like spears of ice. "You trying to get us all killed?"
"I'm sorry he just looked really funny to me is all," Zero explained nervously. "I didn't know he'd react like that. I mean it's not like trashtalked him to his face right?"
The two older men just looked at each other in disbelief.
"Listen lad," Ned explained patiently. "Sometimes, the lower yer position is, the more ye take pride in it. Pyotir's head is too big fer his britches, true, but even a deputy magistrate can have ye flogged fer insubordination. And a direct assault on any of his majesty's appointed officials is just grounds fer a quick beheading if yer lucky. If not it's... err usually something slower and more painful." Ned didn't bother with more details.
"Well that's just horrible policy!" Zero burst out.
"It's the law, and you will follow it," Dorin said sternly. "Survival of the fittest: the strong rule over the weak. If you have a problem with that then all you need to do is become strong. And if you're lucky, you can be strong enough to challenge the Blood Emperor for his throne, make your own stupid laws yourself."
Zero just glowered silently at the old man. Dorin ignored him and signalled Ned to move the cart forward.
"Remember boy: head down, don't even look at anyone, keep your mouth shut and just follow my lead."
I'm not an idiot, and I'm not a dog you can keep on a leash you stupid old man, Zero thought angrily.
Zero's mood didn't improve as they trudged along the muddy main road. He stared at the packed assortment of dirty huts, dusty hovels, and poorly built houses tottering on the verge of collapsing. The air reeked of unwashed human, animal, rotting things, sour piss and excrement. It's so...banal. Zero thought. What happened to the quiet peaceful village settlement, where the smell of pies, stews, and meat roast permeate every corner, where plump housewifes and pretty maidens hang white sheets along the street, where children laugh as they chase and play with each other all day long? This is simply depressing. He stopped looking altogether and just huddled in the back of the cart, hiding under a deer pelt.
--
"Ye were a wee bit rough on the boy," Ned spoke as he glanced at the silent young man, hugging his knees to his chest. "It weren't all his fault ye know. I've known Pyotir since he were a tyke and I admit, it rankled te have him treat me like that."
"The sooner he can learn from his mistakes, the better. I'm not about to wrap him in swaddling clothes and coddle him like a mewling babe." Dorin responded gruffly.
"I reckon we could have handled that situation a little better," Ned said finally. The other snorted in answer, ending the conversation.
--
The Blooming Orchard inn has had an impressive and well-known history in the twenty years since it was built. Established by an ageing mercenary who, upon saving the kidnapped heir of the al Zarani house from assassins, found himself rewarded handsomely for his troubles. It stood at an impressive three-stories high, its foundation, posts, and beams made from polished Iron Cedar, known for its toughness and structural stability. An enterprising [Mage] enchanted the wine cellar and basement with complex fire and water spells to maintain a cool and dry temperature all year long, to ensure that food and other materials placed within are properly preserved. A rodent-repelling ward made it all the more secure from vermin infestations. A stable that can house fifty horses and other assorted mounts promised supreme comfort for the travel companions of the inn's clients and an outdoor kitchen with an oven lined with Salamander scales promised optimum heat conductivity at all times. It was an architectural masterpiece, stamped with the Imperial Seal of Approval mere days after its opening.
In a stroke of bad luck, the inn burned down in its first year, killing all but the owner and his family. Villagers gossiped endlessly about the cause of the disastrous fire which turned everything to ash, except for the original Iron Cedar foundation and posts. The dumbstruck innkeeper managed to recover some of his gold, which melted into a pile of slag on the inn's floor. With the help of a huge loans from various banks, the owner managed to rebuild the Blooming Orchard to its former glory, swearing to recover his fortune and reclaim his honor. However, even after countless pleadings, the village mayor adamantly refused to rebrand the inn with the Imperial Seal, stating indignantly that the inn burning down was an insult to the empire itself.
The owner, his wife, and his sons toiled for ten long years in order to pay off their massive debts, barely even managing to pay the increasingly compounding interest of the crippling loans. In the twelfth year of its operation, the inn met with another tragedy: the sudden death of its owner. His two sons fought viciously over the ownership of the inn, for their father neglected to write a last will and testament for his heirs. Loud arguments came to blows, culminating in a very public duel which resulted in the elder son brutally murdering the younger, trading sword blows then proceeding to grab his brother by the hair and stabbing him over and over with his blade until the streets literally flowed with blood. However, the younger brother was sly rather than brawny, and knowing full well that his older, more stronger brother would eventually overwhelm him, opted to use more insidious solutions. And so mere moments after declaring himself the winner of the bloody duel, the elder son collapsed on the ground as he clawed at his face, turning purple as he foamed at the mouth, dying of a fast-acting, incurable poison. The mother, in her grief, hanged herself from the inn rafters the following day.
No one wanted to buy the inn, even at the grossly deflated price that the village mayor offered. For two years it lay in disrepair, a den where only the truly godless or the truly desperate dared seek shelter, for rumors spread among the villagers of the curse attached to its very walls. Some claimed that the Iron Cedar used in its construction was actually the stolen doors from a temple of Ruk, the God of Invention and Industry, and that his curse lay thick on its walls. Which did not bother one Herman Kastel, who bought the inn one late spring, paying no heed to the anxious warnings from the villagers, instead completely rebuilding and renovating the inn, starting with its foundations. The Iron Cedar was later consecrated and offered to a temple of Ruk together with various other offerings, and a hefty bag of gold coins to the temple priest, in return for his pious prayers in behalf of the new innkeeper.
Herman made a name for himself with his incredible and mouth-watering cooking technique, possessing an impossible 46 levels in the [Chef] class, the Salamander scale ovens churning out one deletacble cuisine after another. Hungry customers came from far and wide, packs laden with various exotic ingredients to be granted Herman's expert attention. After six years the Blooming Orchard's owner toiled in relative peace and comfort as he cooked with no reservations, to the delight of his neighbors and repeat patrons.
It was at the front of its door that a tired nag stopped pulling an old wooden cart. An old man in a tangled mane of silver hair, wrapped in animal fur and hunting leathers stepped down from the cart, followed closely by another old man, red-cheeked and bald as an egg, clad in dirty overalls. They carried two bulging sacks of strangely fragrant meat as they walked towards the carved doors of the Blooming Orchard, the greybeard barking a few short orders to the huddled figure wrapped in animals furs at the back of the cart.
In the darkness of the alley, a shadow stepped out and padded silently towards the cart, clambering up into the driver's seat, staring at the young man muttering incomprehensible words from his hiding place.
--
"Hey! Hey mister!" called out a young, high-pitched voice.
Zero looked up from under his furs and saw a young girl, with deep-red hair and a freckled face grinning widely at him. Without warning his Appraisal skill suddenly kicked in.
Basic Information Name Rina Level 3 Class none Age 7 Sex Female Race Human
"Kiyaa!" the girl cried out in surprise, arms flailing as she tried to regain her balance, the horse snorting as it stamped its hooves in near panic.
Zero's arm shot out and grab the girl's hands before she fell, pulling her into his arms as they fell into the back of the cart.
"Are you okay?" He asked, heart throbbing wildy from the adrenaline rush.
"I'm just fine mister," the little girl - Rina, answered happily, as she lay with eyes closed in Zero's arms. The little girl opened her eyes, and Zero found himself staring into eyes of emerald green, flecked with gold around the irises. Zero shivered as he felt like being dipped into a pool of cold water, the feeling strange yet slightly familiar. Did she just Appraise me? He thought in wonder as he stared at the girl.
"Tee hee," the girl giggled. "I like your name Mister Zero."
Something hard hit the back of Zero's head before he can answer, the deja vu continuing as notifications rang in his head.
Clean Hit! -30 HP. Sneak Attack bonus! -10 HP
You have been Stunned. 20 second duration
Not this again, were Zero's last thoughts before darkness took him.