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The village of Ssarrak. I would have liked it to have a more euphonious name, but... Some barbarian was the first to reach the site of our future dwelling, spat and cursed with that word, and it's been called that ever since. The specific settlement site has shifted several times since, but each time the village continued to be called Ssarrak, as it perfectly suited the mood of the inhabitants. The barbarian himself, whose name was Yol, turned out to be a tough nut to crack. He formed a band of hunters and quickly became an informal leader, as the food supplies and lives of everyone essentially depended on his forays into the Wastelands. To be honest, he lacked the wit to handle the daily routine, and other people managed that somehow, with his permission.
Although I wasn't interested in ordinary hunting, I initially joined Yol during the most dangerous forays, and of course shared information from my reconnaissance. I suppose I was somewhat aloof in general? But that was quite understandable given my history, only Yol didn't seem to like it. I was certainly no less useful than the other villagers, but I got the feeling the barbarian wanted me to do more and be less independent. He was always loudly welcoming towards me, pointedly praising me, but then, every now and then, some threatening notes would slip through towards the ungrateful Red Fury...
Among his hunters was a young man named Date. Originally a local shepherd, but he had a keen eye, so Date turned out to be a good shot. An archer, of course — bullets for firearms became a bit specific in terms of projectile acquisition options, given our conditions.
[spoiler=Date's description was detailed enough for the reader to form a portrait]
[/spoiler]
During one of our first joint hunting forays with the villagers, Date got into a scrape, provoking a living tree (although initially we didn't know the specifics of this specimen; mutations were just starting to occur back then and weren't nearly as widespread as they later became in most central regions). At that moment, an unexpectedly powerful blow from a thick branch instantly knocked the young man unconscious. Yol wasn't with us, and the others didn't dare approach the discovered threat, fully aware of the consequences... To me, the enemy wasn't dangerous at all, since there's nothing simpler than chopping wood using the "hit-and-run" method. Even so, it was strange to realize that some of my blows weren't landing on the tree, but on myself... A strange creature with strange magic. Fortunately, there was still regeneration. In the end, Date was successfully rescued and returned to life. No terrible wounds: the tree didn't seem to be carnivorous; it just really, really valued its personal space.
The next person who left an impression on me was the herbalist Villina. Villina was never a real doctor; any serious ailments were beyond her ability, and she certainly couldn't do anything about permanent injuries. Nevertheless, there were simply no better alternatives in the village. If before, in case of a terrible illness, one could travel to K., now times were, to put it mildly, different... And diseases, on the contrary, had become disproportionately more numerous. Every day brought something new to Ssarrak, and great hopes were placed on Villina. To her credit, the girl took this responsibility with all seriousness. Now, instead of various potions for enhancing potential (I'm not sure I remembered the word correctly; I think that's what they were called), she actually began treating the wounds of the injured with disinfectant ointments, and learned to make remedies for new diseases as best she could... The injured Date, in particular, was nursed back to health by her.
[spoiler=Appearance of Villina]
[/spoiler]
Among other things, Villina began experimenting with new herbs that were starting to grow in the Lands, and unexpectedly discovered that their properties far surpassed those of the plants she was familiar with. In everything, from the concentration of active ingredients to completely new effects. She ultimately discovered both medicinal effects and poisons, as well as various stimulants, and whatnot — all for the good of her native village and her own well-being, gradually ceasing to be a "part-time witch" and becoming a full-fledged wise woman. Although such professional growth took no small amount of time... It's funny that Villina blamed me, among others, for this transformation: she constantly said that my demands forced her to jump above her head. Well, what was I supposed to do? Smithing potions, potions of precision, potions of speed — that was my standard set, though from time to time specific requests for particular monsters were mixed in as well. But yes, I do love thorough preparation...
Another reason Villina had to do so much was a peculiar competition for the title of best craftsman: I often boasted to her about my metalwork and teased the herbalist. For instance, the already mentioned shining blade "Guide" made the girl experiment considerably and create a special luminous ointment, whose light proved effective both in relieving Dark-Land depression and in scaring monsters away from resting places. I must admit, she beat me there — it was a fantastically useful invention.
But all that was in the future. For now, Date's concussion from the tree somehow made Yol find even more grievances against me, claiming I had overlooked it... Since when did I become Yol's deputy, or whatever he considered me, that I had to be responsible for the troubles of his people? The conflict escalated to the point where Yol tried to corner me to intimidate me, making completely absurd accusations even for him. The savage told me that I was insulting someone (either the gods or himself) by wearing armor, and that I should fix it right then and there (isn't that a laugh?), that strong women shouldn't "play hard to get" with strong men, and other such nonsense. I suppose a fleeting expression of contempt must have shown on my face from this whole conversation, because the barbarian clearly hesitated, and at that very moment I slipped out of his grasp. But the point of it all remained a mystery to me.
That night, someone broke into my hut. At first I thought it was a monster, but just in case, I loudly threatened the uninvited guest with a shot to the face. Surprisingly, the intruder stopped making noise and left — from which I concluded it was Yol again, deranged by his hatred for me. And in the morning, something even stranger happened: I found Date beaten half to death in a ditch... The young man had barely recovered from the tree attack and had gotten into trouble again, this time with the elder, and it seemed the Red Fury might have been the cause of their discord: it was difficult to get this detail out of the shepherd, as he mumbled, but it seemed the archer had tried to say something in my defense and got punched for it.
I don't need hints twice, so after handing Date over to Villina, I started packing my few belongings. The Dark Lands are vast, and despite some good acquaintances (Villina, Date, and a couple of other people I could call my friends), I didn't want to cause anyone problems. Besides, I already wanted to go somewhere farther away and do some serious heroics instead of small-time forays... I packed up, went to say goodbye to everyone: Date, lying on his bed, began speaking with a slurred tongue, saying he wouldn't let me go alone and wanted to come with me. Interesting zeal from the young man... But this unexpected intention made me think — wasn't I being too cruel to him? If he had a conflict with the barbarian elder, could it happen again? Especially when I run away and Yol reacts angrily to the news? Anyway, after talking it over, I agreed to think it over a bit more.
The "bit more" stretched into a whole week, during which no one bothered me, though I can't say I was free from attention: something was clearly brewing, either a provocation or I don't know what exactly. The question of leaving the village and of Date, who had broken ribs, was still hanging in the air when a small group of four people, very, very colorful travelers, visited Ssarrak. They introduced themselves as explorers of the Dark Lands and shared a lot of the latest news with us.
For starters, only from them did I get to hear the story of what happened in K. in the final hours before the explosion. Before that, everything I'd heard about some magical device exploding seemed like empty rumors, but the explorers had all the details, complete with names that gave the story meaning. They also enlightened us about what was happening in the outside world, the current problems of I., which seemed to be living out its last months due to pressure from aggressors and the loss of a major city. They showed us a map of the lands they had visited, and much more. They were even kind enough that one of them, a light-haired long-haired mage named Stantri, healed Date's broken ribs using his constructive techniques.
I suppose the reader of these journals won't be surprised at all when I say I very quickly wanted to join their group? The leader, who introduced himself as the Hero of the Source (a pseudonym, as one might guess), told us their team had the ambitious goal of lifting the curse from K. and forever freeing the Dark Lands from their current bitter fate. In short, the more I talked to these people, the more I felt that they were who I needed to be with. My candidacy was accepted, and soon we set out. Date, taking advantage of his now-healthy state, tagged along with us, saying I'd be lost on my own (ha-ha, of all people, hearing that from you was something!). I didn't get to see Yol's reaction. To avoid irritating anyone, I left quietly and not at the same time as the Hero's group, but as if on my own. But I suspect there was much gnashing of teeth... And yes, I had to punch the guard, because according to the bad elder's new orders, he wouldn't let me out. Date left without any problems, using stealth, and no one expected such an act from him to stop him.
And so, we found ourselves in a self-proclaimed group of six saviors of the Dark Lands. The composition was as follows.
Hero of the Source, who quickly turned out to be a close relative of P. the Duke. Having no domain of his own, but possessing many talents, an insatiable thirst for adventure, and an interest in the sciences, he got into the university in K. and soon began making progress there as a diplomat. I don't know what steroids he was using, but despite his young age, he had perfectly mastered both knightly combat skills (the entire branch) and elvish skills, and in fact almost all known styles and weapon types, except perhaps samurai ones, but not excluding commander skills. Truth be told, he loved sword and shield the most. The Hero of the Source declared an astonishing thing: that at the moment of the explosion, he was in the city of K. itself, and despite that — he survived. He considered his miraculous resilience a sign from fate that it was he who was meant to finish this: to return to the source of the malicious magic and close it forever. Partly for this reason, the pseudonym. His connections in I. allowed him to create a small elite team and equip it for an expedition, despite the extremely scarce resources of the stricken country at the time. Probably, despite this, few believed the Hero would succeed, but he believed it with all his heart and managed to infect four other people with that belief. Yes, initially there were five of them who set out on the campaign.
[spoiler=Hero of the Source according to text description]
[/spoiler]
Meshera — an elven scholar, unwilling to let a single mystery in the world around her slip by. A brilliant analyst and appraiser, a master of the long spear (her favorite weapon is about three meters long, but Meshera twirled it as if it were a reed). The brain of the group, maintaining silent modesty most of the time, standing there, analyzing something, adjusting her spectacles... But ask her about something — literally anything — and you could easily earn a long lecture lasting many, many hours, initiating you into the subject in all its multifaceted nature.
[spoiler=Meshera]
[/spoiler]
The light-haired long-haired mage Stantri, specializing in creation, but also skilled in energy manipulation, plus "new" magic. The idea of the latter was to create special magical items that accumulate mana and then release it in the form of spells "free" for the wizard. A concept that greatly occupied my mind, and later I tried to understand the structure of these items, especially since the various flows of mana themselves were something we all saw and heard, literally around us in these strange Lands.
[spoiler=Stantri]
[/spoiler]
The water-and-electricity mage Swegos. Unlike Stantri, much more old-fashioned, if one could put it that way. Theoretically, he possessed extremely high utility due to his teleportation ability, water shield, offensive magic, ability to effectively fight enemy spellcasters by burning their mana, ability to create a cloud of fog to conceal allies... In general, that's how it turned out. As a person, he was somewhat gloomy, like those thunderous fogs of his.
[spoiler=Swegos]
[/spoiler]
There was also a dark elven mercenary Jifa, with thieving skills. She was taken on as a trap specialist, but before meeting me, this "bandit" supposedly did not survive. I was told the story with her was this: she saw a small beautiful cup on the roadside, thought someone had dropped it. Examined everything carefully, saw nothing suspicious, picked it up — and vanished along with the cup. Just like that, there was an elf and then there wasn't. Where she went, no one knows; by the time Stantri, stunned by what he had seen, decided to check for magical traces in that spot, those traces were already gone.
And finally, there were Date and I, two optimistic recruits in the Hero of the Source's detachment. Although it was mostly me who was optimistic; Date's mood was more often expressed by his exclamations: "What an idiot I am, why did I ever get involved in this?!" Ha-haaa... This story lasted maybe not as long as I would have liked, but it left me with many pleasant memories, and the details will be set down by me later.
37 entries if adding one for the picture (considering how much text there should be in those pictures, probably adequate...)
Although I wasn't interested in ordinary hunting, I initially joined Yol during the most dangerous forays, and of course shared information from my reconnaissance. I suppose I was somewhat aloof in general? But that was quite understandable given my history, only Yol didn't seem to like it. I was certainly no less useful than the other villagers, but I got the feeling the barbarian wanted me to do more and be less independent. He was always loudly welcoming towards me, pointedly praising me, but then, every now and then, some threatening notes would slip through towards the ungrateful Red Fury...
Among his hunters was a young man named Date. Originally a local shepherd, but he had a keen eye, so Date turned out to be a good shot. An archer, of course — bullets for firearms became a bit specific in terms of projectile acquisition options, given our conditions.
[spoiler=Date's description was detailed enough for the reader to form a portrait]
During one of our first joint hunting forays with the villagers, Date got into a scrape, provoking a living tree (although initially we didn't know the specifics of this specimen; mutations were just starting to occur back then and weren't nearly as widespread as they later became in most central regions). At that moment, an unexpectedly powerful blow from a thick branch instantly knocked the young man unconscious. Yol wasn't with us, and the others didn't dare approach the discovered threat, fully aware of the consequences... To me, the enemy wasn't dangerous at all, since there's nothing simpler than chopping wood using the "hit-and-run" method. Even so, it was strange to realize that some of my blows weren't landing on the tree, but on myself... A strange creature with strange magic. Fortunately, there was still regeneration. In the end, Date was successfully rescued and returned to life. No terrible wounds: the tree didn't seem to be carnivorous; it just really, really valued its personal space.
The next person who left an impression on me was the herbalist Villina. Villina was never a real doctor; any serious ailments were beyond her ability, and she certainly couldn't do anything about permanent injuries. Nevertheless, there were simply no better alternatives in the village. If before, in case of a terrible illness, one could travel to K., now times were, to put it mildly, different... And diseases, on the contrary, had become disproportionately more numerous. Every day brought something new to Ssarrak, and great hopes were placed on Villina. To her credit, the girl took this responsibility with all seriousness. Now, instead of various potions for enhancing potential (I'm not sure I remembered the word correctly; I think that's what they were called), she actually began treating the wounds of the injured with disinfectant ointments, and learned to make remedies for new diseases as best she could... The injured Date, in particular, was nursed back to health by her.
[spoiler=Appearance of Villina]
Among other things, Villina began experimenting with new herbs that were starting to grow in the Lands, and unexpectedly discovered that their properties far surpassed those of the plants she was familiar with. In everything, from the concentration of active ingredients to completely new effects. She ultimately discovered both medicinal effects and poisons, as well as various stimulants, and whatnot — all for the good of her native village and her own well-being, gradually ceasing to be a "part-time witch" and becoming a full-fledged wise woman. Although such professional growth took no small amount of time... It's funny that Villina blamed me, among others, for this transformation: she constantly said that my demands forced her to jump above her head. Well, what was I supposed to do? Smithing potions, potions of precision, potions of speed — that was my standard set, though from time to time specific requests for particular monsters were mixed in as well. But yes, I do love thorough preparation...
Another reason Villina had to do so much was a peculiar competition for the title of best craftsman: I often boasted to her about my metalwork and teased the herbalist. For instance, the already mentioned shining blade "Guide" made the girl experiment considerably and create a special luminous ointment, whose light proved effective both in relieving Dark-Land depression and in scaring monsters away from resting places. I must admit, she beat me there — it was a fantastically useful invention.
But all that was in the future. For now, Date's concussion from the tree somehow made Yol find even more grievances against me, claiming I had overlooked it... Since when did I become Yol's deputy, or whatever he considered me, that I had to be responsible for the troubles of his people? The conflict escalated to the point where Yol tried to corner me to intimidate me, making completely absurd accusations even for him. The savage told me that I was insulting someone (either the gods or himself) by wearing armor, and that I should fix it right then and there (isn't that a laugh?), that strong women shouldn't "play hard to get" with strong men, and other such nonsense. I suppose a fleeting expression of contempt must have shown on my face from this whole conversation, because the barbarian clearly hesitated, and at that very moment I slipped out of his grasp. But the point of it all remained a mystery to me.
That night, someone broke into my hut. At first I thought it was a monster, but just in case, I loudly threatened the uninvited guest with a shot to the face. Surprisingly, the intruder stopped making noise and left — from which I concluded it was Yol again, deranged by his hatred for me. And in the morning, something even stranger happened: I found Date beaten half to death in a ditch... The young man had barely recovered from the tree attack and had gotten into trouble again, this time with the elder, and it seemed the Red Fury might have been the cause of their discord: it was difficult to get this detail out of the shepherd, as he mumbled, but it seemed the archer had tried to say something in my defense and got punched for it.
I don't need hints twice, so after handing Date over to Villina, I started packing my few belongings. The Dark Lands are vast, and despite some good acquaintances (Villina, Date, and a couple of other people I could call my friends), I didn't want to cause anyone problems. Besides, I already wanted to go somewhere farther away and do some serious heroics instead of small-time forays... I packed up, went to say goodbye to everyone: Date, lying on his bed, began speaking with a slurred tongue, saying he wouldn't let me go alone and wanted to come with me. Interesting zeal from the young man... But this unexpected intention made me think — wasn't I being too cruel to him? If he had a conflict with the barbarian elder, could it happen again? Especially when I run away and Yol reacts angrily to the news? Anyway, after talking it over, I agreed to think it over a bit more.
The "bit more" stretched into a whole week, during which no one bothered me, though I can't say I was free from attention: something was clearly brewing, either a provocation or I don't know what exactly. The question of leaving the village and of Date, who had broken ribs, was still hanging in the air when a small group of four people, very, very colorful travelers, visited Ssarrak. They introduced themselves as explorers of the Dark Lands and shared a lot of the latest news with us.
For starters, only from them did I get to hear the story of what happened in K. in the final hours before the explosion. Before that, everything I'd heard about some magical device exploding seemed like empty rumors, but the explorers had all the details, complete with names that gave the story meaning. They also enlightened us about what was happening in the outside world, the current problems of I., which seemed to be living out its last months due to pressure from aggressors and the loss of a major city. They showed us a map of the lands they had visited, and much more. They were even kind enough that one of them, a light-haired long-haired mage named Stantri, healed Date's broken ribs using his constructive techniques.
I suppose the reader of these journals won't be surprised at all when I say I very quickly wanted to join their group? The leader, who introduced himself as the Hero of the Source (a pseudonym, as one might guess), told us their team had the ambitious goal of lifting the curse from K. and forever freeing the Dark Lands from their current bitter fate. In short, the more I talked to these people, the more I felt that they were who I needed to be with. My candidacy was accepted, and soon we set out. Date, taking advantage of his now-healthy state, tagged along with us, saying I'd be lost on my own (ha-ha, of all people, hearing that from you was something!). I didn't get to see Yol's reaction. To avoid irritating anyone, I left quietly and not at the same time as the Hero's group, but as if on my own. But I suspect there was much gnashing of teeth... And yes, I had to punch the guard, because according to the bad elder's new orders, he wouldn't let me out. Date left without any problems, using stealth, and no one expected such an act from him to stop him.
And so, we found ourselves in a self-proclaimed group of six saviors of the Dark Lands. The composition was as follows.
Hero of the Source, who quickly turned out to be a close relative of P. the Duke. Having no domain of his own, but possessing many talents, an insatiable thirst for adventure, and an interest in the sciences, he got into the university in K. and soon began making progress there as a diplomat. I don't know what steroids he was using, but despite his young age, he had perfectly mastered both knightly combat skills (the entire branch) and elvish skills, and in fact almost all known styles and weapon types, except perhaps samurai ones, but not excluding commander skills. Truth be told, he loved sword and shield the most. The Hero of the Source declared an astonishing thing: that at the moment of the explosion, he was in the city of K. itself, and despite that — he survived. He considered his miraculous resilience a sign from fate that it was he who was meant to finish this: to return to the source of the malicious magic and close it forever. Partly for this reason, the pseudonym. His connections in I. allowed him to create a small elite team and equip it for an expedition, despite the extremely scarce resources of the stricken country at the time. Probably, despite this, few believed the Hero would succeed, but he believed it with all his heart and managed to infect four other people with that belief. Yes, initially there were five of them who set out on the campaign.
[spoiler=Hero of the Source according to text description]
Meshera — an elven scholar, unwilling to let a single mystery in the world around her slip by. A brilliant analyst and appraiser, a master of the long spear (her favorite weapon is about three meters long, but Meshera twirled it as if it were a reed). The brain of the group, maintaining silent modesty most of the time, standing there, analyzing something, adjusting her spectacles... But ask her about something — literally anything — and you could easily earn a long lecture lasting many, many hours, initiating you into the subject in all its multifaceted nature.
[spoiler=Meshera]
The light-haired long-haired mage Stantri, specializing in creation, but also skilled in energy manipulation, plus "new" magic. The idea of the latter was to create special magical items that accumulate mana and then release it in the form of spells "free" for the wizard. A concept that greatly occupied my mind, and later I tried to understand the structure of these items, especially since the various flows of mana themselves were something we all saw and heard, literally around us in these strange Lands.
[spoiler=Stantri]
The water-and-electricity mage Swegos. Unlike Stantri, much more old-fashioned, if one could put it that way. Theoretically, he possessed extremely high utility due to his teleportation ability, water shield, offensive magic, ability to effectively fight enemy spellcasters by burning their mana, ability to create a cloud of fog to conceal allies... In general, that's how it turned out. As a person, he was somewhat gloomy, like those thunderous fogs of his.
[spoiler=Swegos]
There was also a dark elven mercenary Jifa, with thieving skills. She was taken on as a trap specialist, but before meeting me, this "bandit" supposedly did not survive. I was told the story with her was this: she saw a small beautiful cup on the roadside, thought someone had dropped it. Examined everything carefully, saw nothing suspicious, picked it up — and vanished along with the cup. Just like that, there was an elf and then there wasn't. Where she went, no one knows; by the time Stantri, stunned by what he had seen, decided to check for magical traces in that spot, those traces were already gone.
And finally, there were Date and I, two optimistic recruits in the Hero of the Source's detachment. Although it was mostly me who was optimistic; Date's mood was more often expressed by his exclamations: "What an idiot I am, why did I ever get involved in this?!" Ha-haaa... This story lasted maybe not as long as I would have liked, but it left me with many pleasant memories, and the details will be set down by me later.
37 entries if adding one for the picture (considering how much text there should be in those pictures, probably adequate...)