“What are levels?” Trifinn finally asked. This question had been burning on his mind for a while now. He had already told Olivar about the mysterious master character the goblins had been talking about and the man had promised to inform the village head.
“Hmm… I supposed you would have gotten one after that encounter. Thing is, nobody really knows all that much about it. Most people never get any if they lead completely normal lives. They stay on the 0th level, innocent. People who experienced battle don’t always have them either but it’s pretty common on the battlefield, suppose it has something to do with fighting monsters.”
“Is it a bad thing then?”
“Oh nonono. It’s great actually. Makes you just a little bit stronger, smarter and faster than before. Nothing huge but every advantage counts, right? If you could lift 10 kilos before then you can probably lift 12 now. Something like that anyway. I have a few levels myself actually. I’m a proud level 3 Soldier.” He explained, beaming with self-respect.
“Awesome!” Trifinn replied with stars in his eyes. “And why am I a survivor and you a soldier?”
“That’s got something to do with the way you obtain it I think. Most of the guys I knew from various battlefields were soldiers as well but sometimes we also saw a few survivors pop up after villages were sacked by the enemy, or huntsmen when people got attacked by monsters while looking for food. Don’t really know if the name makes a difference though.” Olivar explained, stroking a nonexistent goatee.
“Okay…so how do I get a higher level?”
The middle aged mercenary closed his eyes and became pensive at that question. “I don’t think you’re old enough to be thinking about stuff like that for now Trifinn… your leg is healing well so how about you go outside to play for now. Go visit your friend. I bet he’s been worried sick. Oh, and don’t forget to tell your mom when you do.”
“But…”
“No buts. I’ll tell you when you’re a little older.”
“Oh fine.” The boy finally answered with a dejected look in his face. He’d find out eventually he thought, smirking inwardly. And then he would finally become an adventurer.
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After about a week of being bed ridden and taken care of, Trifinn was eventually allowed to leave the house. That is, of course, after his mother had thorougly instructed him on where he was allowed to go to in the first place. Never beyond the treeline. ‘Apparently the monster situation hasn’t improved.’ Trifinn concluded, or maybe his mother was just very worried for him, either explanation was plausible and he decided not to test her patience on the matter. He was promptly handed his lunch, a quarter loaf of white bread, two red apples and a waterskin. All packed in a small cloth bundle that was just big enough so that if you made a knot it could be attached to the tip of his toy sword and comfortably carried on one’s shoulder.
As soon as he was out the door he took in a deep breath. ‘Freedom at last’ he thought. His home was by no means uncomfortable but being stuck in it for a whole week took a lot out of a boy who loved to roam around and had the most fun when he was with his friends…or friend rather, as there were very few children around his age in the small village. All in all there was him, three brothers aged 14,15 and 17 respectively that he could never get along with, two twin girls at the age of 5 who Trifinn had no problems with, but were just too young to seriously play with and finally Trifinn’s best friend Alvar aged 10, same as Trifinn.
The village was relatively small and travelers were somewhat rare. Once the guild was established here that might change depending on their success though, at least that is what he overheard his mom and Olivar talk about. Enterprising merchants who hope to profit by lightening adventurers of their loot or young adults trying their hand at hunting monsters might make their way to the small backroads village and start an industry of considerable size.
Right now though, none of that was visible. There were twelve houses in total. Out of those one was the general store, another the herbalist’s workshop, a storehouse for the winter and a cattle farm where the family’s oxen were being kept when Olivar had no need of them. The remaining houses were rather simple wooden homes.
Trifinn made his way down the main road, which was only labeled as such because it was essentially the only road of the village. It saw somewhat more traffic and was cobbled only a few years ago when harvest had been lucrative. All other paths leading to the various cottages were unpaved.
Most buildings were placed around the large forest clearing surrounding the village rather haphazardly, but in more recent times most were built situated around the main road to make expansion easier and keep all shops and communal constructions more centralized.
Wooden stakes with brass sconces were placed roughly 10 meters apart from each other to be lit at night, keeping animals away from the village. An assortment of flowers had been planted at the roadside to the villagers delight as well.
As Trifinn walked, he felt a somewhat annoying itch in his right leg. It was merely a remnant of the problems it had made him before and now only served as a slight bother. The wound did leave scarring, especially around the teeth marks, but the boy felt rather comfortable with the thought as he liked the idea of his body showing the wealth of hardships he had braved.
The road was empty right now. ‘No wonder.’ Triffin thought. It had already been midday, and when no traders arrived and everybody was at work it was usually rare to see anybody. The street was most “bustling”, if you could even call it that, in the early morning hours when everybody was getting groceries at the general store as well as from the cattle farm, and in the late afternoon when people were meeting up in the small town square to discuss happenings and where to drink once the children were sent to bed.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
The herbalist’s workshop had always been the most unique building of the village. It was standing directly opposite of the general store and had a small terrace at its front where a variety of plants were hung to dry, these included all kinds of bulbous roots, long vines, tree barks, mushrooms and flowers. Tufts of smoke seemed to billow out of the stone chimney nearly the whole day and the area surrounding it always had an odd smell to it, sometimes pleasant like tea and other times sharp and irritating to the nose like strong spices. Today the smell was tangy and sweet, like biting into a mandarin skin and all, an olfactory marvel really.
The door had been exchanged for a thin veil of a green sort of fabric that Trifinn could not identify, presumably so the building would not get too humid as the plants lost moisture. For that same reason the shop also had more windows than was usual with two on each side of the house, or as much as the villages meagre pooled knowledge about construction allowed them to make before the ceiling would come crashing down.
Lastly, a pompous wooden sign hung directly above the entranceway stating: “Ahab’s Herbs and Stimulants”
Triffin stepped inside.
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"Heeey, trif is that you? Whats up little Dude?" a voice slurred out from beyond the vapor. " Heard bout' that accident you had with your leg and all. Sorry about dat."
" Oh, no worries Mr.Ahab I'm all healed up now. *cough*" Trifinn responded, nearly choking on the thick smoke.
"Ahh that's good to hear mate. Don't get why you didn't come to get some good herbs from me for the pain tho, your guy Oli said it wouldn't be good for your head or somthin' but that's crap. We gotta be feelin good as much as we can. Yeah. I'll stoke the fire to that."
Trifinn hardly believed it but the smoke got even thicker. The Windows tried their best to get it out but they never stood a Chance against ahab's quality goods. 'From outside it has to look like the whole place is burning down' Trifinn thought.
"*Cough* Sir. *Cough* is Alvar around?" he barely managed to say.
" Hmm. The kid is going to the river for me to fetch some reeds and water. Tell you what. You lookin mighty brave with that sword in your hand so why dontcha escort him back for me. I'm making it a special quest for you, rewards n all." Ahab joked, "gotta practice for when the adventurers arrive after all."
Wondering how Ahab could even have seen the sword through all the smoke, Trifinn answered: " Thank you Sir! I promise I won't disappoint your expectations!" and promptly darted outside to carry out his objective.
"Funny kid." Ahab mentioned to no one in particular. Then he went back to his work in earnest. 'If I want to get done with that woman’s ridiculously huge order then I need to pick up the pace a little.’
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Trifinn made his way down one of the side paths next to the road, falling into a slow run. After less than 200 meters he arrived at the gravelly shoreline of the sluggish Lahavet river, the only source of fresh water for the village in a radius spanning multiple kilometers.
The river was of considerable length going from the mountains up north, where it formed amidst the glacial region, all the way down to the continents capital Mara and then feeding into the verdant ocean. Unfortunately most stretches of Lahavet were impassable for boats, making it useless for trading purposes.
As always the river had a lot of debris floating along as a result of it leading directly through the thicket. One of the children’s favorite pastimes involved fishing out whatever they could find and competing in who could amass the biggest amount of treasures. Trifinn could see a lot of interesting branches, some fruits and other curios flowing past but unfortunately there was no time to play. ‘I have duties to fulfill after all.’ he reflected.
“Pst! Trif! What are you staring at?! Come over here and hide yourself!” a familiar voice whispered.
“Wha?! Alvar it’s you! Long time no see!” Triffin cried out cheerfully. “What are you doing behind that rock?”
“Shut up you oaf! I’m hiding. There’s something in the river. Crouch down next to me.”
Trifinn quickly hid himself behind the conveniently child-sized boulder next to Alvar. ‘I did it again.’ He chastised himself. ‘I have to be more aware of my surroundings!’ He swore to himself not to be caught off guard again and turned to Alvar.
The serious boy named Alvar currently had his gaze firmly locked on the river. He was a little taller than Trifinn but skinnier and a little weaker when it came to bare strength. He had black hair that was long enough to reach his shoulders and a scholarly face that looked relatively unremarkable except for his vibrant green eyes and a pair of angled eyebrows that seemed to give him a permanent frown. That frown reflected his generally serious attitude relatively well though.
Trifinn peeked over his cover. “What do you think it was?”
“I heard some kind of scream like a wounded animal, maybe a deer that feel into the river. Could be one of those goblin things that attacked you as well…that’s what I’m worried about to be honest. Maybe one of them fell in and got carried up till here. If that’s the case it could be really bad. No way from here to the forest except through the village, so it might attack someone.”
“If that’s the case then I’m gonna be there to stop it.” Trifinn mused heroically, brandishing his sword.
“No…that’s most definitely a bad idea. Dad told me to tell an adult immediately if I find something weird on my gathering trips.”
“Well he told me that I am to escort you back safely.”
“Pfff, as if I need YOU as an escort. I can take care of mys- wait what is THAT?!”
Trifinn focused his gaze on the riverbank and there was indeed something coming out of the water. He steeled himself for another encounter with his nemesis….but he could feel something was off.
Suddenly the calm waters rippled around the shoreline. Then, with a splash, a reddish thin and long limb shot out of the water and held on to the riverbank.
The odd tendril slowly dragged the rest of its body out of the water. You could hear a sloshing sound as the thing dragged its mass out of the now murky waters. It was about the volume of a large dog, though it was hardly as tall, rather it seemed like the thing was slowly spilling forward. The weird display enthralled Trifinn. He felt as though he heard faint whispers in the wind.
Without a warning the thing started to moan in agonized intonation and the boy finally saw something that made his whole body break out in a cold sweat. This was not just some oversized mollusk or a living ooze like he heard in stories. This thing had a human face, a hideous face contorted into an eternal shriek unleashing an unceasing cacophony on the human mind.
The writhing mass of inchoate red flesh was slowly making its way forwards, dragging itself with its horrifying meat tendril. A thing that should not exist. A living nightmare straight from the depths of the abyss and it was here. Right here on his doorstep.
‘I could have dismissed it as a fever dream. I could have tried to forget what I saw that day. I chose not to.’ (The Ascendant, 1.5)