Lungworth

Descending a slope overgrown with thick grass, a babbling mountain spring ran free from the depths of the dark forest. Its clear waters danced playfully in the sparkling rays of the summer sun. Now and then, a curious fish would appear at the transparent surface, sending myriad rainbow droplets into the air with a flick of its scaly tail. A fresh breeze born on the frosty peaks of the northern mountains swept gently through the blue hair of the girl who had found shelter by the forest pool, brushing her face with a pleasant chill.

—From the deep bowels of the earth our spring takes its beginning, —her father liked to say, —that spring forms a brook; the brook flows into a river; the river into the sea; and the great water washes the shores of all lands. So it is in our lives: everything is part of one whole, all is connected and united with one another. Therefore one must guard the purity of one's life source, so that your deeds and actions are always as clear as its waters.
—But what if the great water suddenly becomes polluted and spoils our spring? —young Veritta would ask, sitting on her mother's lap while the latter combed her lush blue hair, trying to heed her parent's words.
—That shall never be! —her father merely chuckled. —There is no path for the sea waters back to our source. Though they may seem mighty and dangerous, our ancestors cursed them to remain in one place for all eternity. There is no power in them, they cannot give life to a weary traveler — only the bitterness of salty poison.
Veritta, who had never seen the sea before, imagined a terrible monster of dark blue hues with ominous red pupils and arms like claws made of sunken ships.
—Brooks and rivers, those are the true veins of our planet, that is what gives life, what feeds the great water. —her father continued meanwhile. —But one should not hold a grudge against the great sea either: it turns into rain clouds and carries them across the lands of good folk, just as arteries carry warmth through our body. That is where the name of the Lady of the Sea comes from, you see?
The girl nodded knowingly at the instructive tale.
—And the hour will come when every spring becomes clean and clear, and then the great water will finally be purified as well; and eternal peace will come upon the world, harmony with all spirits.
—But when will that be? —the girl inquired.
—When the spirits will it so. For now, you just make sure that the heart of your source is not struck by corruption. —the man confidently jabbed his thumb at his chest. —For there is no life in a dirty spring, and worse: it poisons everything around it. Such a one must either be cleansed, or if there is no possibility at all, then it is better to seal it off completely, that is my opinion.

Tearing herself away from admiring the babbling spring, Veritta cupped her hands and thanked the river lords for another fine day and their protection. She had heard that in other parts of the world, angered earth spirits summoned various monsters and unclean forces to punish arrogant mortals, but their bright land fortunately remained in harmony and peace. Rising to her feet, she brushed off her long dress, picked up the basket of forest berries, and walked at a leisurely pace along the brook toward home.
Lost in thought about what to treat herself to for lunch, the girl did not immediately notice that the sturdy door of her parents' old hut was flung wide open, and a moment later an unknown man appeared in the doorway. Having hoisted a hastily tied sack of belongings onto his shoulders, the stranger glanced around furtively, but upon spotting the mistress of the house froze in his tracks. Startled, Veritta dropped her basket, staring in amazement at the man in a crumpled uniform adorned with symbols bearing a golden lion. Then the stranger muttered something unintelligible and hurried off down the hill at a brisk pace.
Not knowing what to do, the girl stood still for a few seconds, then dashed after the robber. Catching up with the man at the very foot of the slope, Veritta tried to call out to him, but the man, without slowing his pace, shoved her aside forcefully with a sharp wave of his hand. Stumbling from the unexpected blow, the girl fell to the ground, but fortunately the soft grass covering the ground cushioned her fall. Lifting her eyes to the retreating scoundrel, she noticed ornate sheaths for a two-handed sword at his belt. Meanwhile, the bristly dark-haired man took a few more steps, coughed heavily, dropped his burden, and collapsed heavily a short distance away.
—Ugh, damn it, bastard. —fragmented curses reached her. Somehow managing to sit up, the stranger wiped his bloody lips with his sleeve and glanced wearily at the girl: —Should have finished you off right there, instead of bothering with all this running.
The warrior's face bore a deathly pallor, his grey eyes had sunk deep into their sockets, blue veins bulged on his thin neck, and his hair fell like straw over a forehead etched with wrinkles. The man was clearly ill, and had been ill for a long time and seriously.

—So, do you have any family? —the mercenary inquired, taking a sip of warm tea.
—The river spirits took my father and mother when I was twelve. —the Anemon girl replied after a short pause.
—Now it's clear why you're so foolish. —her interlocutor chuckled, pulling a piece of stale bread from his tattered knapsack. —Who in their right mind in this day and age would let a strange man through their door? And one who just tried to rob you, no less.
—But... you couldn't even stand on your feet back then. —Veritta ignored (or simply failed to notice) the caustic remark. —And our nights can be very cold...
—Well, I'd have died and that would have been that, is it any of your business? —the stranger snapped, soaking the hard bread crust in his tea. —Less suffering. Or are you expecting gratitude?
—Not at all, sir...
—...Helping every scum, ugh.
—Sir Scam, —the Anemon girl corrected herself, —but you could have simply asked for help instead of soiling your soul with theft...
—Yeah, and if some weirdo blazing with dark energy and a crazy grin across half his face comes at you, you'd probably offer help too?
—Of course, who knows, maybe that person is simply lost and looking for the way. —the girl shrugged.
Scam said nothing and shook his head sympathetically.
—...But I'm glad you're feeling better. —Veritta decided to support the weary traveler.
—Ha-ha, I feel f***ing great! —the mercenary replied with some incomprehensible irony. —Pretty sure I've coughed up both my lungs already. They say I caught this crap from those Royenthal scumbags. They've developed, like, immunity from living in filth for years. But our lads drop like flies the moment they hit the road, ugh.
Veritta didn't understand some of the words in her guest's vocabulary, but out of politeness decided not to ask what they meant.
—Ha-ha, don't worry, it's not contagious anymore... too late for that. But that's not the main thing. —having finished chewing the dry bread, Scam tried to get to his feet, but after a couple of failed attempts waved his hand at the endeavor. —The main thing is what that crazy woman of ours has started. You won't believe it! —the man's eyes gleamed with a mad light. —She's building a road of death, right around the entire continent! Yes, yes! And wherever the path goes, darkness and death are born there! Diabolical spawn steal people's souls to conduct their cursed rituals later. You need to run, understand? Run, save yourself! But where can you find shelter? —the mercenary's lips trembled, tears welled up in his eyes.
—Sir Scam, I think you'd better rest. —Veritta cut him off kindly. —Please, come with me, I'll take you to my parents' room.
—Ah, what? Who? —the man looked around in fright, until his exhausted gaze settled on the girl. —You're foolish. For someone like me, it's a blade and a twist...

Making another lunge, the blue-haired girl swung the heavy blade above her head with much more confidence. The wide blade whistled through the thick air, scattering early fallen leaves across the forest clearing.
—Not bad. —Scam nodded approvingly, perched on a massive tree stump, having tossed aside a makeshift walking stick. —Did your father teach you those anime tricks of yours?
—Anemon. —Veritta nodded, continuing her training.
—The skill, truth be told, is completely nonexistent, but knowing your "culture," that's something that can be developed... The main thing is, now you'll at least be ready... for the end of the world. —he whispered in a somewhat detached tone.
—Thank you for teaching me.
The warrior merely waved his hand. —I took a liking to you, you know? At least some comfort at the end.
—W-what do you mean? —Veritta flushed and nearly dropped the heavy sword from her hands. —F-forgive me, Sir Scam, b-but I already have a fiancé...
—Is that so? —the mercenary smiled with the corners of his withered lips. —Then why haven't I seen him? Or did he catch you with another man in the house and take off running?
—N-no, he went traveling to the east... —the embarrassed girl murmured.
—And how long ago?
—Ever since we were seventeen...
A loud burst of laughter, which turned into a ringing cough, made her turn to her mentor in astonishment.
—That blue-haired fiancé of yours has been dead for ages. —Scam tried to catch his breath. —Or he found himself a more accommodating woman, hehe. I've known such types, all cultured and principled at first, until the first doe...
—Who? —the girl didn't understand.
—Ah, forget it. Charming creatures, they bled me dry of all my money on "treatment."
From that point on, the list of dangerous individuals, alongside the iron woman with enormous melons (possibly a gardener?), was joined by long-eared animals capable of draining money from weak-willed people.

—Keep my sword for yourself. —the mercenary whispered, breathing heavily in his death throes. —I have no need for it there .
—But...
—You know what they say... something or other... A weapon, like a man, has its allotted time, let it earn its keep...
A heavy, stiffened palm barely lifted from the bed and grasped the girl's thin wrist. Startled, Veritta yanked her hand back, freeing herself from the man's grip.
—Ah... sorry. Wanted to at least... —Scam gasped. —I'd have taken you with me, shown you Serberia... You remind me of someone, met her at the front... Same eyes... A nasty story happened with them, but that's for another time... —emitting a wheezing groan, he tried to raise himself on the bed: —Run! To the east, save yourself... The Queen is coming, and behind her, Him... the prophecy... The Artery, preserve... —the mercenary's eyes rolled back, his lips continued muttering something in incoherent delirium.
Her parents had taught her that one must not grieve long for the departed: by doing so we disturb their souls, distract them from uniting with the spirits of nature. Their bodies should be given to the earth, far from dwellings. For many years they will be purified by the soil, until they reach the underground groundwater, thus reuniting with the great natural cycle. All that remained was to offer prayers to the river spirits, that they might take another soul into their ever-flowing embrace, cleanse it of committed misdeeds with their bright waters, and allow it to return to its ancestors in the ancestral hall.

The sharp bow of the vessel confidently cut through the calm sea surface, carving a path eastward through the foaming waters. Veritta stood leaning on the wooden railing of the deck, admiring the vast blue mirror before her. As her father had said, the great water inspired righteous awe and exuded immeasurable power, but there was also something familiar in it, something mesmerizing. Now the girl understood why many of her compatriots worshipped the Lady of the Sea. Instead of listening to each of the voices of the nature spirits individually, they wished to address the entire universe at once, to enjoy the whole picture without delving into details and minor particulars.
But there was a fatal error in this as well: no one has the power to tame the entire life cycle. Many hundreds of spirits coexist in harmony, maintaining the fragile balance in their ordained functions, and the mortals living under their protection must do the same. Each must answer only for their own spiritual source, instead of all together stirring the bottomless sea waters, turning their calm currents into a chaotic whirlpool.
After her encounter with Scam, the girl realized that in this world she would have to face many unpleasant and dirty things. But she must overcome this trial with dignity as well, to learn of the fateful events of recent winters, and of the wicked watermelon queen, of the winged all-seeing woman, of the mysterious does, and of much else...


Inventory
—Scam's two-handed sword
—Water spirit figurine
—Medallion in memory of the homeland
—Travel cloak
—Provisions for the journey
—Savings

Anemon (12.05.755)


Patronage of the water spirit


Attributes
Strength: 6 | Endurance: 10
Agility: 7 | Perception: 9
Speed: 10 | Intellect: 5
Spirit: 7 | Faith: 1
Charisma: 8 | Beauty: 8

Mastery - two-handed sword


Landsknecht

Vitality [2000]
+5 to health for each point of endurance and strength.

Sword of Dawn

Sword of Justice [3000]
The chosen enemy receives 500% damage; if it is an enemy the character perceives as evil, the damage converts to solar provided their resistance to it is lower than to metal; if the enemy is a demon, undead, etc., the damage converts to stellar. Accuracy for this attack is twice as high. Requires two points of valor.