Chapter 4: Chapter 4.0 – The First Village and the First Religion

             Orion Dandillon, Grade 2, Lvl. 1/10

Exp (0/500)

Intelligence	Resistance	Endurance	Strength	Agility	Perception	Charisma	Mana
32 (+2)	22 (+2)	38 (+4)	27 (+2)	30 (+3)	32 (+3)	41 (+3)	166 (+58)

 

New skills:

Lightning mage:

• Quick hands
• Mana manipulation

When I saw my stats points jump up, I almost fell over. Well, that could also be attributed to my near dehydrated state. But still, the grade increase in this world had a huge impact. Not only that, but I had also gained the most essential ability available to mages, mana manipulation. Although it wouldn’t be useful to me right now. Later it would let me create and control spells.

Since I also now had two job points, I decided to allocate one point to increase my assassination job level.

Assassin Lvl 2/5:

• Muffled steps --> Silent steps (Your steps do not produce sounds) (Passive)
• Muffled blade --> Silent blade (Your weapons do not make a sound when swung, or on your person) (Passive)
• Perception of the perceived (when activated the areas that a specified individual is currently seeing becomes bright)

Now satisfied at my personal progress I needed to find a human settlement. Being stuck in this glorified desert wasn’t any fun and it didn’t seem to be teeming with treasures and lost relics. As I made my way to the sea, I once again picked dates, berries, nuts, and sometimes on birds to eat. The larger animals were sparsely seen and would take too long to prepare.

Two days later I found a stream which I followed, four days later that stream became a river, and finally on the tenth day that river led me to a small village. Here, the houses were made of compressed earth and on the walls were engraved complex repeating designs, which gave a sense of grandness and wealth to the small village.

Irrigation streams diverted water from the river to olive fields, date farms, and the few hectares of wheat fields. On the opposite hills from where I stood sheep with green wool grazed the land, and chicken could be seen at the base of that hill.

Before running down the hill and asking my hundred and one questions, I sat down and analyzed the village. There were about fifty houses. If there were six to eight people per house, it would make this a village of about three hundred souls. A decent size for a medieval world. With all these crops and the bustle in the town market this place should be rather prosperous. I could play the role of a wandering guard from beyond the desert since scrublands were often locked between seas and deserts.

Although this assumption would be a gamble, I could run if they found me too suspicious. Since the feel of a merchant people was strong here, I might be able to rope them into exploring the desert in search for my supposed kingdom. Well, if there was a desert. When they ran out food and water, I could rob them blind and be on my way. With that I could hire mercenaries, or adventurers to help me power level. However, that was for another time. I should first learn more their customs. I could change my melatonin level later to blend in with the people.

Next, I searched for a place of worship. Religion was the biggest actor besides the lords in most medieval societies, so they should also be on my radar, and that’s ignoring the immense impact religion had on culture.

Soon I found a very long rectangular building which wasn’t much taller than a person’s height. The sides of its walls were engraved with pictograms of fish, rivers, and a woman merged with water. These gravures were painted blue, green, and orange. It was also placed next to the river and seemed to have a small stream diverting inside it. They probably worshiped a water god, spirit, or Fae.

I decided to head into town. When I neared an arch made of yellow bricks two guards armed with halberds and leather armour approached me.

They didn’t seem alerted, just curious. “State your name and business.”

“My name is Bonaventure.” I stated the name I used in the previous world. “I come from the other side of the scrublands.”

The pair of guards looked at each other and then back to me. “You came from the other side of the desert?”

I nodded. It seems my bet paid off.

“Do people really live there?” asked the first guard. He wore thin leather armour, without a helmet or cap. In all he wasn’t suited for combat in the least.

But before I could answer the second guard spoke, “Look at him, have you ever seen a man with that skin colour?”

“Well, the people to the east are darker.”

“But not that dark.” The second guard turned back to me. “Do the people from where you hail, have chiefdoms and trade?”

With this I learned of their political system and confirmed their merchant mentality. “Yes, the land is lush, and there are many chiefdoms of great strength and amplitude. Our alters are made of gold, and various fruits, meats, spices, and apparel is traded in large quantities.”

The guard’s jaw dropped. He was still unable to believe something existed on the other side of that desert. However, before he got too excited, the second guard interrupted. “How come you speak our language if you come from a land we’ve ever seen?”

“It is a skill from a job I possess. If you wish I can show you my status screen.”

They didn’t move. “I’ll announce this news to the chief. Lead him to the guard house.”

I followed the young man to a small house about the same dimension as that of the goblin’s huts. Inside there was a small bench pressed against the earth wall and a table which came up to my knees. I took a seat. The man who came with me and was currently whipping the sweat off his face was about five-foot-six to five-seven. Although they were short, their appliance seemed excessively small. Perhaps this resulted from the scarcity of trees in the area.

“Do you not check the status screen of visitors?” I asked.

The man took off his helmet and wiped off the flood of sweat from his forehead. Although he had a turban under the helmet, it could only help so much. “Your kingdom must have been extraordinarily rich if a village of this size could afford a seeing stone.”

I scratched my chine. “Perhaps, how much does one cost in gold here?” Although gold varied in worth from kingdom to kingdom, and from world to world, it was still the most consistent, well other than bread, and rice; however, I doubt this guard knew how to count the cost of magical items in bread loafs.

“I can’t even imagine. Probably one hundred thousand gold coins. Although that might be affordable for a high chieftain, a village like ours couldn’t dream of such wealth.”

“How many seeing stones are there in your kingdom then?”

The young man started to undo the turban which had stuck inside his helmet. “I don’t know, maybe four, or five?”

I nodded. “We had at least one hundred in my kingdom.” I wanted to sell this make-believe kingdom, and at a high price at that. Since I was the only one with the directions, they would need to rely on me to get there. Obviously, they wouldn’t take the bite right away; however, I still needed to plant the seeds.

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Twenty minutes later a middle-aged man came into the room accompanied by the guard who said he would get the chief.

I stood up and unsure of the local custom, I bowed slightly. Since bowing was rarely seen as offensive in the many cultures, I experienced it made for a good introduction even if improper. The other party would still understand its meaning.

“Hello, my name is Mizenir, chief of Sizzar.” He spoke with authority, but his words flowed smoothly and put one at ease.

When the chief stopped talking, I introduced myself. “Hello, my name is Bonaventure, an exiled swordsman.” With the use of my lightning mage skills, I could easily pass as a swordsman.

Since this village was rather prosperous, taking advantage of it wouldn’t be the easiest thing to do. Learning about the country and the world while gaining strength would be the safest bet in such a case. Especially when I don’t have a partner to assist me.

“Apparently, you come from the other side of the desert?”

I gave a slight bow, “yes, from a Chiefdom named Dakota.”

“How long did it take you to cross the desert?” Asked Mizenir. Although he stood at around five-foot-five, his broad shoulders, and the animal fur he wore made him more intimidating. Especially when you considered the fact, he wore fur in this scorching heat. He probably had a high resistance stat.

I pondered for a second before saying, “Around two months if not more.”

Mizenir looked me up and down. “You have travelled the desert for two months and still are in such good shape. What did you drink and eat?”

“I had a large water skin and travelled from oasis to the oasis. Unfortunately, I lost it alongside my other items when my camp got attacked by beasts.” I didn’t have any way of justifying how I made it out of a desert. Hopefully, he would let it go.

“Hmm, and you say you’re a warrior.” His eyes bore down on me giving me a good look of his eyes. The white of which had become a dark yellow due to the sand and sun.

I nodded.

“What rank if I may ask?”

“Four,” I said. I didn’t know what the exact strength of rank four warriors were in this world. However, if it resembled the previous two type-M/22 worlds he visited the spells to increase his speed should make up for his lack of strength.

“How come you understand our tongue. If you are a warrior, I cannot see how such a skill would be granted to you regardless of your initial class.”

Of course, this question would come again. “Yes, I have a job which is only available to the people of my country. It is a sort of hybrid warrior and priest,” I said. Normally priest would have high magic or charisma, noble jobs also gained a fair bit of charisma, so it wasn’t too shocking a statement. Especially since I had to explain why I had such high charisma. The reaction of the guards was probably a mix extended prosperity and my high charisma. The chief would probably notice it soon as well. Just as one could see the muscles on an individual, or the speed at which someone ran. One could see the charisma of a person by the reaction of others to his words.

“Then I’ll have you spare with Krinnir.” He gestured towards the guard who had stayed with me inside the guard house to come over. “He is at the third rank. If you can beat him, I will give you work.”

“Thank you.” It seems he would at least disregard it. I turned to Krinnir. “Let’s do it right now.” I didn’t have time to waste. Ten years passed by quickly, especially when it could take a month to traverse a few hundred kilometres.

The young guard gave me a crooked smile. He didn’t want to fight, nor did he take a fight for a serious ordeal. This village seemed more prosperous than many cities in the last dimension I visited. The guards probably lacked experience and real battle experience. A one rank difference, especially when I had a heroic class was nothing.

We headed towards the entrance of the village. I drew my sword; however, the other guard quickly intervened. “Wait,” he said. “Take these.” He handed me a wooden sword.

Krinnir also received one and took a fighting stance. I did the same.

“Fight.” Yelled Mizenir.

Before Krinnir could take a step forward, I used my quick step to close the distance and swing down my sword. He blocked it without too much effort put into holding up the sword. However, he had just barely intercepted my hit. He was too slow. I took a step back, and with the use of the quick hands skill I tried to stab him in the chest. He managed to turn and deflect the hit a few milliseconds before it connected. Without relenting I sound down onto his head once again but put all my strength in the strike this time.

Krinnir’s sword which had just blocked my swing was still up high. He had probably put a lot of strength to block the last blow and had locked his joints.

I swung my sword horizontally towards his liver. Since his arms were locked and wouldn’t make it in time, he reflexively lowered his elbow to block the strike. Although it didn’t seem to hurt, a real sword would have cut his arm or at least broken a few bones had he worn armour.

“That’s enough.” Yelled Mizenir. “You are strong. I will find you a room for the night. Tomorrow, I will introduce you to my son who is leading a trade caravan to the local market town. Krinnir bring him to the guard post for now.”

Still sweaty Krinnir bowed and Mizenir left before I could thank him.

Half an hour later a woman in her late twenties came by. “Are you Mr. Bonaventure?”

“Yes,” I got up, “are you in service of Chief Mizenir?”

“Yes, I am Cassira, one of his maids. I’m here to lead you to your residence for the night.”

“Thank you very much.” I followed her. She had long black hair dyed blue and green at their tips. The city was bustling with life. Merchants sold their goods under stalls covered by wool tarps or small huts. They mainly sold fruits, clothes, and some meat.

The people wore beige, and white togs, which sometimes covered their heads no doubt to protect against the sun and heat.

Going back to the maid's dyed hair, it seemed that about one in ten people had dyed the tips of their hair in the colours of the sea.

“Is the painted building your place of worship?” I asked.

She nodded and gave a large smile. “Isn’t it beautiful? That’s where we go to speak with the spirits of the water. The river that nourishes this village comes directly from the mountain covered in snow and descends all the way to the ocean.”

 She seemed rather eager to speak of her religion, so I continued to ask questions. “Are the people who dye their air followers of the water goddess.”

“Oh! You must not know. Tell me do you follow the god of fertility.”

“No,” I didn’t really know how to answer so I stayed quiet for a second. To go for an empty answer. Making guesses when it came to religion was a dangerous affair. “Well, where I come from we don’t have any strong beliefs, so I’m interested in what you can teach me.”

“That’s good then. Well, back on topic. Each time our month of birth comes by we dye the tips of our hair in the colours of water to show our love and devotion Selanni, the goddess of water, for she gave us life and bountiful harvests.”

“That sounds wonderful.” I said in an over-enthusiastic voice. She seemed like quite the zealot. “Does every village in the area follow the water goddess?”

“Well,” she looked down. Her hair covered her face which had long started to wrinkle due to its constant exposure to the sun. “Everyone in the Kingdom does, unfortunately one of our neighbours is under the influence of a false god. All I can hope for is that when they die by our blades their souls may be guided by Selanni.”

Oh, well perhaps getting in the good graces of their god should be on my priority list. “Although we didn’t have Selanni where I came from, we did worship the rivers, so I believe it is the same goddess but with different names.” Although I made a complete 180 in my statement, it should work out since she was so engrossed in her proselytizing.

She turned around with an even larger smile than before. “That must be the case. It wouldn’t make sense any other way. After all, water is free flowing so her name must be ever-changing.” However, after this outburst of enthusiasm the fervour in her eyes dulled. “I wish I could have shown you the temple; however, they have not been true to the teachings.” She turned around and took my hand. “Be careful to whom you speak. They don’t understand the sins of the new head Slar¹. He is not true to Selanni, and as someone receptive to her teachings you should be careful. She looked into my eyes; do you want to visit the river with me sometimes? There I can tell you about Selanni’s words.

It seems I had stumbled into either a cult or a breakaway sect. But no matter, this lady seemed rather desperate to form a bond so she should be rather easy to take advantage of. “Absolutely,” I said. “We should go to the river tonight and discuss the teachings of Selanni.”

“That’s wonderful.” She had a large smile and seemed genuinely happy.

We continued walking for a few minutes while she talked about the local cuisine and games before we reached a two-story building about fifty metres long.

“This is our local inn.” She entered the building and walked up the stairs paying no heed to the receptionist. “You can get comfortable here. I’ll go buy you some food.” She waved me goodbye.

I went to the corner of the room. There was a small bucket of water, piece of cloth, and new clothes. I took off my dirty, bloody, and crusted brown tunic, and started to wash myself off with the wet cloth. When I was finished, the water had become a muddy brown and the cloth wouldn’t be reusable.

The new clothes felt great. They weren’t restrictive, protected the skin from the sun, and let the heat radiate out. I tied my scabbard around my waist and sat on the little wooden seat in the room and waited for the maid to come back.