Reaching to the brush at his shins, he pulls up a tuft of herbaceous weed and cracks a thin woody limb off of a nearby shrub. Raising them to chest height, he shows them to the party, gesturing with each in turn.
VARANT: This one, the woody one, is our best bet for firewood with the least smoke. This one here, with the leaves that are pale on top but silky dark underneath, bring me one handful each. Now each of you pick a direction and take ten or twenty paces, see what you can get us.
In a couple minutes, Varant has a jumble of small kindling beside a pile of his requested herb.
VARANT: You're a good bunch. Now help me clear this hilltop, we can't have the fire going anywhere we don't want it. No shrubs anywhere within ten paces of this spot. And grab me some loose stones if you see 'em.
Another couple minutes pass, and Varant has a small firepit dug. But you notice it's not large enough to be practical for much, and you don't have much food worth heating up anyways. Which reminds you…
[GUILDMASTER]: Varant, do we have enough food for this trip of yours?
VARANT: Mostly, I bought some light provisions from the village while you were busy with the chiefs.
Suddenly you remember that you'd sold your extra sacks to Miss Nadi…
[GUILDMASTER]: Uhhh… Did we have the baggage to store it in?
He smirks ever so slightly, knowing what you're worried about. You're glad he doesn't judge you for making that decision on your own.
VARANT: Bought 'em and the sacks they came in both. But it's not just provisions we have to worry about when extending a trip like this—
He pulls out his flint and steel, only for Maya to step up and point a finger at his little pile of kindling and ignite the whole thing at once. Varant hastens to top it with a layer of the herbs, and immediately a thick smoke starts to drift from their blackening leaves, accompanied by a distinctly sour odor.
VARANT: Phew, forgot what it's like to travel with a mage.
MAYA: Something like that is so basic, I wonder why everyone doesn't learn it.
Varant's head tilts to the side and he seems to be genuinely considering it, despite the difficulties.
EVYLIE: Is that possible…?
MAYA: I think so. Right?
VARANT: It's tricky…
[GUILDMASTER]: Non-magicians use unaspected mana to create and use enchantments, as well as power techniques in the case of adventurers. Most mages though draw upon elemental mana, which is far more efficient for elemental magics. The two aren't really compatible, so you can only hold one or the other. As a fighter class, you'll be stuck trying to use unaspected mana to do any mage tricks—er, elemental magic specifically. Even a cantrip like this will cost you a lot, especially at our grade. And that's assuming you can learn how to conduct that particular element in the first place…
Maya nods.
MAYA: Yeah, it varies a lot per person. I have a much easier time with fire magic than anything else. I guess if someone was really bad at conducting fire mana, then…
She shrugs. Evylie gives the information some thought. Varant shrugs as well, and sets about wrapping up the remaining half of the leaves, which he stows in one of the supply pouches alongside the flint and steel. Then he gestures towards his little fire.
VARANT: Well. You've noticed the smell for sure, but that's not what this is for. It's the smoke.
He points straight at the sky, without even turning his head up himself. Looking at the column of smoke, you realize it has a distinct greenish hue. In fact it seems to grow greener by the second…
VARANT: Now this trick won't work outside the Rise. Both the smoke, because you won't find this silkwort near anywhere else, and because you won't get the result either.
He looks around, hoping somebody will ask the question.
But none of you oblige. So he moves on to his other secret.
VARANT: So, you've had time enough to think it out. Where do you think we'll be going from here, and why?
You don't say anything, hoping Varant will just explain it without calling on you to figure it out.
VARANT: Well, let's put it this way. Guildmaster, if you were party leader, which direction would you head from here?
Praise the Seventh…
[GUILDMASTER]:
—
—<1> You're a right dirty bastard, picking on me like this.
VARANT: No news there. Try again.
—<2> East, back to the land of rest and cheese.
VARANT: If only I weren't such a staunch old adventurer instructor, your dreams wouldn't be in vain. Ah, well. We're headed north, you poor, poor sprouts.
—<3> North, to the woodlands where I'd actually expect to find aberrats, instead of this rocky almost-waste.
Varant nods.
VARANT: I'm hoping you're sniffing the same tracks I am. So to speak.
—<4> West, to the land of shrubs, sand, and more shrubs and sand. And presumably more villages with potential aberrat problems, from what you're implying?
VARANT: Nah, probably just chasing shadows at that point. Kani, are there even any more villages over there?
KANI: …Probably? Once we hit Dursia at least…
VARANT: Yeh, nah. I'm taking us north, on a hunch… well, more than.
VARANT: Alright, now—extra cheese to the person who tells me how many aberrats have been seen in the Rise within… well, within memory.
RUVI: That's not fair!! I don't know anything about this place!
KANI: Well—
TARRIAN: Judging by the way you phrased that, virtually none.
KANI: Wh—not fair!
RUVI: SO not fair!!
VARANT: And the Faithspeaker gets the cheese! So we've got aberrats where we don't expect 'em. Next—Marlond, don't answer this one—
MARLOND: That's not fair. Where's my cheese?
The whole group is dumbfounded at his sudden self-assertion.
VARANT: …Just for speaking up, you get cheese for all the work you put in today.
MARLOND: I accept.
KANI: Yes Marlond!
[GUILDMASTER]:
—
—<1> Always nice to see someone getting what they deserve.
Marlond's bashfulness makes an immediate and full return.
—<2> Guys, for real… what's with the cheese?
Kani gasps. Ruvi glares at you. Evylie has her hands on her hips and even Marlond is squinting at you.
KANI: Guildmaster… do you not like cheese?!
RUVI: Cheese is divine!
TARRIAN: Cheese is a blessing from the Virtues, Guildmaster. How many types of cheese existed before the age of Grace? Not enough. I need say no more.
EVYLIE: Guildmaster, you don't understand because you can just add extra cheese to your meals anytime you want. For the rest of us? It's a taste of luxury!
[GUILDMASTER]: I could, but I don't. Your point is made, however.
MAYA: Guildmaster, just go with it. It's fun! And it's food! It's the best reward I can think of for little things like this!
[GUILDMASTER]: Fine, fine. But you realize you just added another competitor for your cheese bonus, right?
MAYA: WHAT
RUVI: NO
KANI: GUILDMASTER NOOOOOOO
[ Available if the Guildmaster chose option <1> in the previous chapter regarding what to target when opening Miss Nadi's hatch: ]
—<3> Speaking of, did any of you see how he killed that aberrat in Miss Nadi's house?
[GUILDMASTER]: One arrow, right into the eye socket. But it still had a chance—even dead, the thing's body was flying straight at him, tusks-first. But then, quicker than a flash…
You mimic a sidestep.
[GUILDMASTER]: …The graceful dodge!
Kani and Maya clap, turning their applause toward Marlond himself.
TARRIAN: Deserved his chance to shine, I say.
EVYLIE: Wish I'd been there to see it…
RUVI: Damn it… I'll never get my cheese bonus at this rate!
Marlond tries his best to not look embarrassed. He seems to be getting better at it quickly.
VARANT: Alright, alright! So. Aberrats where we don't expect 'em. Now what are some reasons we might be seeing 'em anyways?
Nobody speaks up. Marlond straight sits down, causing the girls to glare at him, knowing he has the answer.
As for you, it's the same kind of question your father might have grilled you with, if only you could remember…
[GUILDMASTER]:
—
—<1> Something caused them to leave their original habitat, I'd bet. Directly or otherwise…
VARANT: Yeh. You're implying a large monster I think, but it could be wildfire, territorial disputes among themselves or with other small monsters, any kind of unfavorable change to their habitat—caused by other monsters or by natural means, or humans in the area. You know what, damn you for picking a blanket answer…
—<2> Wildfire?
Then you second-guess yourself.
[GUILDMASTER]: …But then wouldn't we have seen sign of it from here? Hmm…
Varant shrugs.
VARANT: Not if their original territory really was the northern woodlands. And think back on the ones we got last week—Could've been a while ago. So I'd say wildfire is plausible, for sure.
[GUILDMASTER]: Would somebody have recorded or otherwise noted one?
VARANT: The northern woodlands are unpopulated, at least the parts of it in Karsis. It's known for being a fairly tame area, but in part because this guild has historically kept it that way. So no, I'd not bet on anyone making note of a forest fire. Your answer's fair game.
—<3> Overpopulation in their original territory?
VARANT: It happens, for sure. Back at the eastern border a few years back we had a practical invasion of unigorns from Tavar, without there being adventurers to hunt 'em over there. King Eshram had a hell of a time convincing that dullard Kathok to send soldiers to clear out their side of the Rudmoor. Overpopulation is a good pick I'd say.
RUVI: My cheeeeeese…
VARANT: So yeah. Lots of possibilities. Large monster, human activity, wildfire, overpopulation… now, some of these we can't deal with. That's fine, our immediate mission isn't necessarily to deal with it. It's to find out what it is, and figure out how it'll affect things going forward. But later on that—now, for the results of our signal fire…
Seemingly springing from the shrubs themselves, two hobgoblins approach the hilltop as Varant puts out the fire. Judging by their reactions, it's all too plain that neither Maya nor Tarrian have encountered the little guys before. At first you think Maya is actually scared, her hand over her mouth—but then you realize you're mistaken. She turns to Lightmaster Tarrian and soundlessly declares, "It's so cuuuute!"
Hobgoblins are one of those things that you categorize as "so ugly it's cute". Their big, crooked, toothy grins are hard to hate, it's very true. Their big pointy ears, broad pointy nose, and thick pointy eyebrows are all finer and cleaner than those of their more diminutive and considerably smellier cousins. And their faces, along with their stature, are more humanoid and easier to relate to. And, it's true, some of them are well groomed even, flaunting hair and beards and ear-hair of all earthy colors, sometimes at once. But these ones aren't, and the ugly-to-cute balance has shifted so much that you don't understand what Maya sees.
Varant stands and faces them, making it clear that he's the one to talk to.
VARANT: Very quick, you were. Here's a dekker each for showing up.
They eagerly scuttle up and he carefully, deliberately places a ten-copper piece in the opened palm of each.
VARANT: Now, do either of you know the way to the adventurer's guild in the city of Mayika?
They both shake their heads, but one of them speaks up.
KNOWLEDGEABLE HOBGOBLIN: I've been to Mayika good s-sir? Sir! I know the way! I know the way to the juice-mixers! The fancy ones! Very fancy…
VARANT: That's perfect, mister. What should I call you?
KNOWLEDGEABLE HOBGOBLIN: Gargovan!! I'm Gargovan.
VARANT: Well, Mister—
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
MISTER GARGOVAN: Yes! Mister Gargovan!
VARANT: Mister Gargovan, I'll pay you a silver now if you'll deliver a message for me, and like always, you get another silver from the person you give it to—if you give it to the right one. Will you do that for me?
The chosen hobgoblin nods excitedly, and the other one scampers off, happy just to have shown up.
Varant gives the hobgoblin both a verbal message and a written one (scrawled on the back of the quest report with some charcoal), directed to the attendant at the Tellingsworth Guild. The message asks him to uphold the tradition of paying the messenger the promised silver, and relay the news to Annessa at the Mayika adventurer guild that the adventurers will be a couple days late while they investigate the woodlands north of the western Rise. Annessa, of course, will repay the silver.
Once Varant is satisfied that the little mister can remember the message, he gives him the okay to leave, and the party watches appreciatively as the hobgoblin shoots off toward the east, straight in the direction of Mayika.
RUVI: A whole silver… Two silver, for a delivery! No wonder they show up!
[GUILDMASTER]: Well, that's one way to do it… Back in Arkavis, the only way I heard of was to train a deirval to fly your messages around.
VARANT: Well, you won't be seeing cerise deirval in Karsis outside of Mayika's Royal Quarter, for sure.
[GUILDMASTER]: Another item on my list of things to buy when we get rich…
VARANT: I'm dreaming with you, Guildmaster. Right there with you.
?
Most of your inner complaining about a conceivably two-day long march is minimized when Tarrian re-casts his marching spells on your 8-person-and-1-lotch group. You're not yet experienced enough to know what he cast or what the auras placed on you do exactly, but you know one thing: you want to move.
The party takes on a brisk walking pace, and even then you seem to be moving faster than you should be. At this rate you estimate you could cover sixty, hopefully seventy kilometers in a full day, accounting for breaks, without unduly pushing yourself or your lotch. Though you have less than half of one left today. Suddenly the idea of making it to the northern woodlands seems far more achievable.
MAYA: Sooo… Guildmaster… I still don't know…
You've been headed north for half an hour when Maya stomps up beside you with an extra serious look on her face.
MAYA: About Miss Nadi…
[GUILDMASTER]: Consider what you do know, though. She prefers to go by 'Miss', despite having been married. She interacts a lot with travelers, with them often staying overnight in her residence. Somehow, she steadily makes money well beyond the amount she's entitled to as a widow. And the way she does so is conventionally considered immoral enough for her to feel guilty about it, but doesn't cause harm to anyone in her eyes.
MAYA: O—oh…
Her face turns red.
[GUILDMASTER]:
—
—<1> You get the gist of it, I see.
She nods, her face still red. You wonder what her life as a mage was like for her to seem so sheltered.
—<2> Ah. Well. Sorry if it's an uncomfortable topic.
She doesn't say anything, her face frozen in an apple-red hue. Time to shove this embarrassing topic onto someone else…
[ Available if the Guildmaster picked option <3> in the previous chapter regarding how to deal with Miss Nadi: ]
—<3> And interestingly, she's been doing it for a reason…
[GUILDMASTER]: It seems as if, whether it's due to her former husband or current obligations, she feels her situation is or was bad enough that she keeps doing what she's doing to make money not for herself, but for other people who might have to go through what she did. Likely the former, though I don't want to assume.
Now Maya's face is downcast, and she's not alone. Evylie is probably the only person visibly unaffected.
[GUILDMASTER]: As for the matter of morality, I'm not the one qualified to provide a conclusion. Tarrian, what do the Recitals have to say about all this?
You're grateful to have somebody to dump the problem on. But when he doesn't say anything, you look back at him to find his unfocused gaze lowered in thought. You give him time, seeing it's a subject he needs to think about before talking about.
But he keeps thinking, and you've given up on him doing the talking, which suits you just as well. Until ten minutes of wordless marching pass, and suddenly he speaks with clarity and confidence.
TARRIAN: In the tenth Promulgation of the third Herald, the Virtue of Dedication advises us not to "take in the essence of the unclean into yourself," unless it's "within the boundaries of sanctification". And in the twelfth of the same he says not to "soil yourselves by undertaking pursuits that run against the grain of the true heart" or even "against the needs of the world around you."
RUVI: Well, that does seem pretty clear…
TARRIAN: Sure, that's what most people would say, even a lot of Faithspeakers. Except that the first quote was in the context of treating the ill, and the second in the context of finding a path for yourself in the world.
RUVI: Huh…
EVYLIE: Hmm…
KANI: You referred to it… him… as 'he'? But wait, you also said "advise"…
TARRIAN: I should also say that I can recall several passages that speak to many of the sordid matters that typically surround the issue—speak against, of course. But as for the act itself, in every way that it has been formally defined, my academic answer should be: I am unaware of any passage that directly addresses it.
KANI: Okay, but about the "advise" part…
TARRIAN: I don't know why this isn't more commonly known. But the Recitals are not laws, merely advice and exhortations. It's the House that made them into rules, starting around the two hundred twenty-first Year of Grace, and that was influenced largely by the leadership of the nations of the time. So yes, Guildmaster, if you asked me what the House specifically said about carnal relations in exchange for coin, it'd be immoral. But that's not what you asked me.
VARANT: Heh heh. Well, I'm glad it wasn't, because that was a much more interesting answer than I expected. Never thought I'd be glad to bring a Faithspeaker along for a long hike.
TARRIAN: Oh, I haven't even gotten started! Want me to get into the Virtues and their assumed genders and what all of that has to do with our interpretations of the Recitals?
VARANT: …Uh.
[GUILDMASTER]: …I don't think I'm quite ready for that one, thanks.
…
Maya has been thoughtfully silent for some time, but soon speaks up.
MAYA: …Okay. But Guildmaster, what do you think about it all?
[GUILDMASTER]:
—
—<1> …Uh. I'll excuse myself from this one.
MAYA: Oh…
—<2> Really? You're asking me?
MAYA: Well, yeah… You're our guild master, and you're the one who figured it out…
[GUILDMASTER]:
—
—<2-A> No thanks…
…Uh. I'll excuse myself from this one.>
—<2-B> Dammit. Fine.
Well, you asked.>
—<3> Well, you asked.
[GUILDMASTER]:
—
—<3-A> Frankly, it's none of my business. If the Virtues have nothing to say against it, then neither do I.
EVYLIE: Just because the Virtues have nothing to say against it doesn't make it right… Right?
TARRIAN: I'd agree with that, but you'd still need a solid line of reasoning for why it's wrong. Rather than just a break from tradition or conventional mores.
[GUILDMASTER]:
—
—And I haven't thought of any so far. Simple as that.
—Still doesn't make it my business.
—I'm content to rely on what the Virtues say. Or don't say. I'm no expert on morality.
—<3-B> I was thinking… It might well be an unhealthy way to live your life, sure. But I can't see an argument for why it's morally wrong as long as she isn't hurting anyone.
TARRIAN: You're saying that as long as there are no victims, you have no problem with it.
[GUILDMASTER]: Pretty much, I guess.
MAYA: But what if the victim is herself?
[GUILDMASTER]: That might very well be the case, but I'm not in a position to know or assume that, much less to judge. Like I said, it might be unhealthy. Doesn't make it wrong. And it certainly doesn't make it my business.
—<3-C> In the end, I'd have to say that it's wrong.
[GUILDMASTER]:
—
—Really, it devalues both the person and the act itself.
TARRIAN: Well, I can't imagine anyone I know arguing against that much. But is devaluing something, even something so special, wrongdoing?
[GUILDMASTER]: Maybe it's just a matter of values and principles. It seems pretty wrong to me.
—Everyone should have a certain respect for both themselves and others, and that's… not what this is.
MAYA: You mean…
[GUILDMASTER]: Treating your own body like an object, or treating other people like a means to an end… Both are morally wrong, to my view.
—The reality is—that line of work is a form of exploitation. Economically, socially, personally… There are too many stories of abuse…
TARRIAN: Does that make the line of work wrong? Like I said, the Virtues speak much on those points already.
[GUILDMASTER]: The relationship it engenders is inherently wrong. Perhaps willfully engaging in the act is a form of wrongdoing.
—
The girls are all thoughtful and not necessarily content with this line of thinking. Marlond is clearly uncomfortable, while Tarrian's usual contented countenance is suspiciously frozen in place. You notice that Kani in particular is eager to let the subject go.
MAYA: All right… Sorry, I just really don't know anything about this stuff, and I once met someone who… Anyways. Thanks I guess.
?
You encounter few monsters for the remainder of the day, or at least few reckless enough to approach a party of eight. And you make better time than you even expected without a proper trail, with Varant estimating you've crossed over thirty kilometers, with hourly stops to rest and refresh your traveling auras.
You don't stop until the sun is almost set, but you'd been looking for a suitable camp spot for an hour—finding relatively flat space without deeply embedded stones proved to be a challenge. The group has already passed the road from Mayika to Jarana, but Varant didn't want to camp anywhere near—for reasons that he was vague about. You can only suspect he's had run-ins with bandits before and doesn't want to invite unnecessary conflict.
The scenery changed quite a bit once you neared the road, changing from rocky shrubland slopes to… more rocky shrubland slopes. But here you find the vibrant sands the Heartlands are known for. And you have to admit—in the spring sunset, the plentiful blooming flora is quite beautiful.
— Mayika Environs —
Karsis's central province, facing west. Springtime.
Having chosen a site, your group sets about making their first camp as a party. You're glad Varant insisted on bringing tents and bedrolls even for what they intended to be an intraday excursion. "Got the space for it anyways," he'd said, motioning toward their lotch. Healthy ones can carry a veritable tower of supplies at a decent pace, and you'd barely filled its side packs when you'd left the guild this morning. "Always play it safe. Make it a habit. Never know when you'll get stuck somewhere you don't want to be."
The night is quiet… more quiet than you were used to in Arkavis, be it the city or the forests your father would take you to. And it's bright, too—even with scattered clouds and a partly full moon, the air seems to you to only magnify the white moonlight drifting down upon the Rise, even casting shadows under every patch of foliage.
MARLOND: I'm here, Guildmaster.
[GUILDMASTER]: Hey, Marlond. A bit early for your watch, isn't it?
MARLOND: Sorry if my timing was imprecise.
[GUILDMASTER]: Hardly. I'm just surprised that… well, I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you can wake up on time yourself. Thanks. I'll stay up with you a bit if you'd like.
MARLOND: I don't see a need.
[GUILDMASTER]: Neither do I, but it wasn't a need that I asked about. Speaking of—You've noticed how unused we all are to someone of your circumstances. So as Guildmaster, I just want to say… thanks for being here, and for trying to get used to us.
MARLOND: …
[GUILDMASTER]: Hope your watch is clear and quick, Marlond. Thanks again for getting up.
MARLOND: Of course, Guildmaster.
Varant had proposed four two-hour watches and a total of a ten hour rest break, allowing time for food and equipment maintenance and a full rest for the watchers. He says the group, including the lotch, can travel like this or faster for two to three days before requiring rest. With Tarrian's spells of refreshment and vigor, the party maintains good cheer—thinking about it, you'd hate to see what it would take to have a gloomy Tarrian and Maya. And while you've seen those same divine blessings in action before—they're the ones used in every caravan across the known world—it gives you a different perspective, feeling them yourself. With a new sense of understanding you ponder just how different travel and communication would be without the Divine Arts. Just how much the world owes to the House and to the Virtues. And now the true supremacy of the House as an international organization dawns on you—with exclusive access to blessings like these, its economic and cultural grip is unchallengeable. And you wonder just how much worse the world could be if the House were made up of people less benevolent than now.
Soon you turn your attention to the present. Accompanying the adventurers on this extended trip has been the perfect opportunity to see how they interact together and how their bonds will develop, and you're glad to see that there has been little to no friction between them so far. Sure, there are tons of little conflicts and contradictions as they try to get used to working as a team, even just in simple things like picking up camp and stowing supplies. But nobody lets anything get to them as they learn to work with and around each other, and even Evylie—who you've noticed is far more defensive than the others—doesn't let criticism from others keep her from interacting fairly with them.
EVYLIE: Marlond, how did you get so good at what you do? The tracking, the camping, and the shooting and dodging—well, the dexterity in general. I mean, is it just natural talent, or is it just because you've lived that way for so long? Did you have any training?
MARLOND: …
EVYLIE: …Is it okay that I asked…?
MARLOND: …You seem sincere, like the rest of them.
EVYLIE: Thanks…
MARLOND: I don't know. Whether it's talent or not. Never had the chance to compare.
EVYLIE: Oh… doesn't that seem… sad?
MARLOND: I'm alive. And I'm me. Can't say the same for most others I've met.
EVYLIE: Um…
MARLOND: I'm surprised that you would call it sad.
EVYLIE: Well… I don't know why you… But I don't—I mean, even I want people to talk to, or at least listen to… Living alone seems rather hard.
MARLOND: Perhaps… Never had the chance to compare.
EVYLIE: Oh…
You realize that the fact that Marlond is willing to speak so freely—by his standards—is a sign that he feels comfortable with everyone in the camp. I mean, if you can hear it… though to be fair, your hearing has always been better than most people's, and you suspect it's only rivalled by Marlond's. But surely he would only assume that his conversation could be overheard by anyone. The thought that he's increasingly willing to talk means a lot…
After breaking camp, it takes another half day of travel before you reach the unnamed woodlands on the northern edge of Karsis. The change in climate had been gradual but noticeable all morning as the elevation lowered, but as soon as the sparse tree line came into sight it became dramatic. The ground became darker and softer and large rocks became fewer, the air took on a tinge of moisture and carried a hint of the earthy lands ahead, and even the sky seemed to take on a new aspect—sunnier, but with less dramatic blues and whites.
— Karsian Northern Woodlands —
the border of the northwestern woodlands of Karsis as seen in the spring, facing north.
Locale properties: Karsis, Northern Province, woodlands region - Spring - Favorable
Mana draw: 100%
Mana composition: 0.3 elemental / 0.4 unaspected / 0.3 Divine
Elemental distribution: 20% Fire, 25% Earth, 30% Ice, 25% Lightning
- Conditions: normal
Maya finishes the locale reading in a flash, and likewise you close up the wood-bound guild notebook you've been using for record-keeping. A job that usually belongs to the party leader, according to Varant. It's too soon to for you to be picking out leaders when you only have a single party, so you figure you might as well get the experience yourself.
VARANT: Let's keep an eye out, and the other one open. Marlond, I hope you like cheese—because this is your area of mastery and we're going to want your mastery. Even if you don't have a baseline for what this habitat is supposed to be like… just look for anything abnormal that might cause an aberrat to try to live somewhere it has a hard time burrowing or finding food… outside of a village's meat-cellar, that is.
Marlond looks around, his head tilted upwards as if trying to take in every scent.
MARLOND: No rats in my forest. What do aberrats eat?
VARANT: Damn near anything, if there's enough of it. Virtue's truth. So it depends on their competition—is it easier to get to the roots and bulbs, or the critters eating the roots and bulbs?
MARLOND: …There's life enough here.
Varant nods appreciatively. So it's not lack of food that's kept them out, and whatever it is hasn't affected too many other species either—at least not in this area…
VARANT: Let's see what we find further in.
? Scena 15: A Quick Trek will be posted Friday, 2025-APR-04 at 1300 EST / 1700 UTC.
REGARDING HELMETS:
I've been trying to make this a relatively grounded fantasy universe, and in my mind that would certainly include helmets. Wearing your damn helmet is the single easiest way to reduce fatalities in a dangerous environment. But writing about people wearing helmets is not nearly as exciting as I'd hoped. So, I've decided… sure, everybody's wearing their helmet when appropriate.
But their "Show Helmet" option is toggled off.
Problem solved!
———————————— DEFINITIONS:
? hobgoblin?/?h??b.g??b.l?n/?"HOBB-gobb-lin"
Goblins that formed a sort of symbiotic relationship with human societies. Usually larger and visually distinct than other goblins, they are considered a proper subspecies. Sometimes called "hoblins" or "hobbins" for short.
? deirval?/?d??r.v?l/?"DEAR-vuhl"
An intelligent black-feathered bird, omnivorous and cathemeral, that can be found naturally in the Northern Empires. The black-and-red species called 'cerise deirval' is well-suited to long-distance flight can be trained to deliver messages to known targets over a considerable area.
———————————— CHANGELOG:
2025-03-30 ? Tiny formatting fixes.