A Record of Ash & Ruin: The Grieving Lands
Book 1: Chapter 34: Blind Faith

The Guild in the frontier regions is nothing more than a collection of opportunistic bandits, thieves, and failed mercenaries. They deem themselves monster hunters, heroes all, and the shield of the common peasantry. But tell me this, what hero is he that would not render assistance unless compensated in coin?

- The Fanciful Travels by Beron de Laney 376 AC

Here, unlike the deep dark of the forest, the sun was able to filter down through the branches of the lesser trees of the glade. The call of songbirds and the annoying chirping of insects filled the morning air as the creatures of the night made good their rest. Off towards what I presumed was the west, we could just see a plume of smoke rising just above the canopy of the trees.

The Rogue and the Hunter were having a meal of Tree-Laur haunch and discussing what to do next. Their discussion, more of a debate, was animated, with even the usually even-tempered Kidu showing a little anger.

“Morning, sleepyhead. This great big lug thinks that we should spend the rest of our lives out here in the wilderness, living off the land. I, for one, have had enough of the great outdoors. I want to actually enjoy my freedom. With your magic, we are no longer slaves! We should at least go and see whatever is causing that smoke. I’ll go by myself if I have to!” the Rogue said emphatically.

“Elwin Tucker gives a plan with great risks. We are safe here, relatively so. There is sustenance in the forest if you are strong. Just a few days ago we were slaves in this land, I would not have it be so again...” replied the wildman, clearly looking to me for direction.

I thought for a moment on both of their arguments, before adding my own opinion, “Both of you make good points, though I, for one, find myself wary of further contact with the people of these lands. Still, one cannot live in the wilderness forever. We simply lack the tools and equipment to survive a winter here,” I paused for a moment, digesting my companion’s suggestions, “I say that we take the middle course and at least investigate what that smoke is together. This forest is too dangerous to traverse alone. Perhaps where there will be people nearby. Perhaps they can help us. Perhaps they can not. If there are people there then it might be possible to trade for something, or if not… we can take what we need,” I added, evenly looking them each in the eye.

They both nodded in acquiescence before they began to clear up the camp. The pair stamped out the fire, collected the glowing Zajasite stones, and packed the recently smoked meat into our wicker baskets with an economy of movement that would have been impossible for me. Gripping our weapons in hand; Elwin with his knife, Kidu his spear, and I with my trusty pickaxe, we made our way through the forest toward the direction of the smoke.

Leaving the relative safety of the glade, the deeper we moved into the forest, the darker it became. The sense of things leaping overhead and looking down at us never left our consciousness. We advanced quickly, though carefully, through the massive trees and slight undergrowth of the forest, making sure to also scan for any threats above and below.

At some point in our little expedition, Kidu suddenly held up a hand and called for us to stop. We had to wait for a herd of massive deer-like creatures, perhaps twenty or so strong, to finish crossing our path. They wended their way through a trail between the giant trees like lords and ladies of the forest. They were majestic animals, almost three meters to the shoulder, and heavily muscled and their bodies were covered with soft chocolate brown fur. Atop a long graceful neck, was a large head from which four long spiked horns grew. Their eyes were large, gentle, and brown. One of the animals stopped to look in our direction, before moving off once again with the herd, the gigantic pack leader calling out with an ululating cry.

Pausing in wonder at what I had just witnessed, I turned to the Hunter and asked, “What were those things?”

“Southern Cronir… smaller than the ones up north, with an extra pair of horns. Cronir make for good eating,” he replied in a deep hushed voice.

“To you, friend, everything makes good eating, and I would not want to tussle with the big one unless I had to… or was deep in the cups!” quipped the Rogue jovially in counterpoint, as he continued onwards. This little exchange, it seemed, was as clear a signal as any for us to continue our march through the forest.

Finally, after what seemed like an excessively long amount of time, we could start to hear the voices of real, actual people. We all swiftly crouched down, as we moved closer to the source of the smoke and sound of industry. Finding some cover, we peered through the bushes of the undergrowth and saw a small group of people undertaking a myriad of jobs around a large clearing. My eye was immediately drawn to some small mounds which had bluish smoke billowing from them. If my memories were anything to go by then the mounds could only be charcoal piles.

An old memory told me that this was a sign that the wood inside was undergoing the change into charcoal. On a tangent, I remembered a lecture from a world away and softly mouthed “Köhlerglaube,” the word for blind faith in German which had originated from the charcoal-burner profession. In the old times, the ignorant peasants would blindly believe whatever the local priests dictated to them as they had to spend the greater part of their attention on overseeing their piles. However, unlike the medieval peasants, I had little faith in the gods, let alone their priests.

Behind the piles stood several single-story log cabins. Around the smoking mounds, men were busy adding more wood to the mounds to make fresh charcoal. I remembered from a distant lecture or seminar about medieval societies that charcoal burning was seen as a lonely profession. The creation of charcoal was dirty work that needed constant supervision to ensure the wood burnt at the correct temperature. Also, they needed to make the charcoal as close as possible to where they fell the trees, which meant that the charcoal burners often lived far from the local centers of civilization. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ N0vᴇlFire(.)nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

A few of the men carried axes and heavy staves and they chopped up branches from the large fallen trees at the edge of the clearing or poked holes into the charcoal piles to regulate the heat. It was a relief to note that only a few of their number carried sidearms, such as shortswords or long fighting daggers. The men were clothed in brown, gray, or black long-sleeved robes that were tied at the waist with wide colorful sashes. A figure clothed in blue, in stark contrast to the other workers, and who appeared to be the leader of this encampment barked orders at them before he, too, joined in the work. They all had the epicanthic folds of an Asiatic people, and the whole ensemble made me think of the old Mongolians of Earth.

Focusing on one of the nearest workers, I silently began to cast Identify on them.

Arban Bayarsaikhan - Charcoal Burner (Human lvl.7) Health 75/77 Stamina 18/28

Mana 10/10

I did this again five more times, making sure to include the leader in blue. These were all of the men who were in plain sight. I drew a breath of relief as I confirmed that they were all relatively low-level; with the highest among them being only level eight, and the lowest being level six. A ghost of a plan was beginning to form in my mind. Half wishing to confirm the strength of my companions against the workers and half simply for practice, I cast Identify on Kidu and Elwin.

Kidu Kreshin - Hunter (Human lvl.12) Health 252/252 Stamina 43/49

Mana 5/5

Elwin Tucker - Rogue (Human lvl.13) Health 152/152 Stamina 27/40

Mana 10/10

I knew it! The spell confirmed one of my sneaking suspicions that NPCs could also gain experience and level up. Kidu and Elwin had both gone up a level and their basic parameters had improved significantly.

Furthermore, it confirmed to me why some of my previous kills had given me varying amounts of experience; it had been divided up among those who had credit for the kill. I also reckoned that my group, although smaller in number, had been significantly stronger in terms of raw attributes and levels than our vanquished enemies.

It was also pleasing to note that my investments in Constitution and Strength had meant that I was getting closer to Kidu in terms of raw Health and Stamina. Yet, despite this, I noted that I had seen little change to my actual physique, which I found most strange. Nor did it seem there was any other change, like a growth of a beard or hair length. Shrugging these thoughts aside as extraneous, I simply attributed these quirks to part of the rules for me in this strange game-like world.

Snapping out of my thoughts, I hissed to my companions, gesturing for a retreat. We moved out of sight and well out of earshot of the camp.

Once we were at a safe distance, I began to tell them my plan, “We observe them for the rest of the day just to make sure there are no surprises. Once we’re sure of their numbers, we hit them at night, killing every single one of them,” I spoke in a cold voice.

“Not even going to talk to them? Just like that, kill a group of men minding their own business?” the Rogue asked, surprisingly shocked. I hadn’t expected this level of empathy from him, an NPC.

“Where are we, Elwin? Think! We are slaves, on the run, wearing slave garments in a land whose culture is propped up by the institution of slavery. What do you honestly think would happen if we opened a line of dialogue with these savages? That they would welcome us with open arms and send us off on our way? Besides, we would lose the element of surprise,” I replied vehemently, before continuing with my tirade, “Are you stupid, Elwin? These are the people who enslaved me, enslaved you. Enslaved us. They don’t see us as people. Are you so eager to face the kiss of the whip again? And, you Kidu. I thought the Three Bears were an honorable clan. Did you not promise vengeance on ALL of the Tides!?” I finished, my voice rising towards the end as I looked squarely at Kidu.

Elwin held up two hands placatingly as Kidu rose to my provocation and added almost too eagerly, “I promised vengeance on the honor of my ancestors and my friends, and it is vengeance I will have. I will never again feel the crack of the slaver's whip against my back, nor the iron collar about my throat. If you wish to stand in the way of that...” growled the massive wildman at Elwin.

“But they outnumber us! And those weapons are real sharp-looking...” murmured the Rogue, uncertainty in his eyes.

“We have magic and we are all proven fighters, much stronger than just some forest workers,” I responded confidently.

“How do you know?” he hissed.

I looked him carefully and evenly in the eye, “I know. Trust me, I just know. The gods have told me thus.”

Kidu seemed to accept the explanation categorically, but I could see the concern still etched in the Rogue’s features.

“We’re about to kill all of these people… for what!?” sputtered Elwin.

“Because we have to! Because I say so! I will kill these savages and many more if that is what it takes to stay free. Again, Elwin, these are the people who enslaved us, Elwin!” I repeated, which drew a rumble of approval from the Hunter. “As I said, we have little choice in the matter if we want to return to civilization. It's either this small crime of survival now or a life forever on the run! Worst yet to be a meal for some monstrous creature in these gods-forsaken lands. Better to be a bandit, thief, and criminal than a slave! Rest assured, Elwin, we will do this with or without you…”

Something in my last words must have struck deep within Elwin, for he was silent then. It was a stab at his past, and all the crueler for it. As I continued explaining the finer points of the plan, there were no further arguments from Elwin Tucker the Rogue.

I sent Elwin to scout out the rest of the encampment, and during that time, after a light snack with Kidu of stringy dry meat, I rested to regain my Mana. Kidu had made a pair of crude weapons from the scythe-blade arms that he had ripped from the Soldier Echo-Stalker in the tunnels. The handles were made of Laur's bone, and attached to it was strong sinew to keep the ever so slightly curved blade in place. A link from one of the chains formed a simple guard just above the hilt on both daggers to stop the hand from slipping when thrusting with the weapons. They were vicious and crude-looking tools of violence, measuring about forty or fifty centimeters from their handles to deadly tips.

Kidu had also fashioned a simple hide sheath for each of them. I tested the edge of the natural blade with a finger, drawing blood and causing a single point of damage to my Health. Overall, it was impressive craftsmanship for the time given, and I wondered how this world would categorize these paired weapons in terms of Skill proficiency.

Just as I had finished examining my newly made weapons and replacing my trusty pickaxe, I felt a tap on my left shoulder. Knowing this to be some sort of trick, I turned to my right and there was Elwin, freshly returned from his reconnoiter just as the sun was beginning to set.

He gave us an unhappy grimace before delivering his report, “Eight men in total, I think split between a day shift and a night shift. These are all free men, no slaves for some reason. No slave brands from what I saw. Though come to think of it, it would be difficult to train slaves for this kind of finicky work...” the Rogue began to meander before we both looked at him, “...Overall though, they all seem to be lightly armed. Axes, daggers, and one shortsword notwithstanding.”

We waited then, settling in behind the cover of some thick bushes a good distance from the clearing as we waited for the night’s darkness to deepen. Each of us tried to ease a measure of calm into nerves fraught with tension. I gripped my twin weapons tight in my hands, as my mind struggled with all sorts of variables and potential scenarios. This was to be different from all of my fights thus far, where I had simply reacted according to circumstance. Up until now, it had always been fate that had forced my hand. This time would be premeditated and cold and I found the sensation both sickening and strangely thrilling.

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