Posts from Ad aspera

There might have been potential for redemption, but there was certainly no desire for divine truth.
-- Twelve silver coins a week. We don't count by the day; the money is paid upfront.

Before paying, Unus asked:

- How can I prove to your colleagues that the tax has been paid?

The caravan leader's face, already somewhat ruddy, turned even redder and, in addition, took on a rather unintelligent expression.
-- A... on a mule, is it?! -- he began, but something changed in his mind again, and his next words were: -- A... who might you be, uh, good sir?

- On the cart. I'm tired of walking, - Kraight approached the caravan. - And who am I? Just someone, simply going to the city. A traveler. What's wrong with that?

He could hardly wait to finish his shift, then stop by the tavern as usual, down a couple of mugs, and head home to bed...
The dark pavement ahead soon became a gray, motionless blur. Quiet nocturnal sounds barely disturbed the silence. The serenity of the sleeping city was lulling — it seemed that even if something were happening here, it certainly wasn't happening now.
His heavy eyelids drooped...
...
...
Tongues of flame shot upward, reflecting ominous glints in the beastly yellow eyes briefly snatched from the darkness.
...

Rubbing his eyes, the first thing Ruven saw was a mug filled to the brim with fragrant, foaming beer sitting on the table before him. Looking around, he realized he was in that very tavern he liked to visit after his shift. And there was already a drink waiting... Without thinking twice, he drained the mug. Seemed like everything was in order.
But wait... He had just been at his post. 
He glanced out the window — it was deep night outside. And by the time his shift ended, dawn should have already been breaking...
Ruven scratched his beard, shook his head, pulled himself together, and left the establishment.

An unexpected encounter awaited him outside. The watch captain was looking at him with a frown.
— Aiketir? What the hell?! Why aren't you at your post?
— Well, I was, umm... Conducting a secret inspection.
Bright flashes caught his eye, blazing at the opposite end of the street. Looked like a fire somewhere.
— Conducting what?! Do you see what's happening? A crime on your shift! And you're walking out of a tavern, reeking of beer!
— I... Actually, I was on alert. I stood at my post, never left, everything was quiet. I think I dozed off for a minute, and how I ended up here — I have no idea. Some kind of sorcery! No need to worry — I'll return to my post right away.
— Are you an idiot? Can't you see it's already happened. Go help.
The captain waved his hand, directing a brigade of men armed with buckets of water toward the burning building.
— This is the last straw, Aiketir. I'm not covering for you anymore. So start thinking up excuses for the captain.

...
The captain's words refused to stick in his sleep-deprived, throbbing head, but the gist was clear: turn in your gear and get the hell out of here, you bungler, don't disgrace the guard's name.
...

Back home, Ruven took a deep breath, pulled out a bottle of wine saved for special occasions, and drained half of it in one go. His head spun again, and he awkwardly sank onto the bed, staring blankly into nothing. It would be hard without work and income. He needed to figure something out... 
Of course, there was nothing truly shocking about what had happened. Such things had occurred before. But back then, he'd at most just come to his senses in an adjacent room or on his doorstep. The scariest was probably that time in childhood... When he fell asleep at home, pretending to study reading to dodge chores, and woke up because a fallen apple bonked him on the head — he'd ended up under a tree in the neighbor's orchard. Strangely enough, no profound thoughts about the universe dawned on him; he just got a cuff on the ear for "attempting to steal what was grown by honest labor." If only he could get off with just a cuff now, but no. The future looked quite bleak...

After resting a bit and gathering his thoughts, he stood up and, staggering, opened the door to the room he usually never entered. Passing by old bookshelves, he stopped at a rack upon which rested an imposing suit of armor. His father's old armor... And beside it, a massive spear hung on the wall. These heirlooms were still in good condition. Well, maybe a bit dusty.
Ruven shifted his gaze to a painting hanging nearby. A huge Black Dragon atop a mountain peak. Its talons gripped the rocks, its raised wings churned whirlwinds of dust in the air, and from its snarling, fanged maw it seemed a pillar of fire was about to burst forth, sweeping away everything in its path. He could imagine the deafening beastly roar, the whistle of wind, the rumble of an avalanche. Even covered in dust, this image seemed to radiate incredible power.
Long ago, in pursuit of that legend, his father had headed North, like many others impressed by it. What exactly he had hoped to find remained a mystery — no one ever shared the details. He returned about six months later, looking gloomier than a storm cloud, not a coin in his pocket, with barely healed severe burns all over his body.
"Don't go after the Dragon" — that was all he told his son, refusing to say anything more.
And so Ruven didn't go. Having trained at a military academy, he'd counted on a relatively quiet life as an ordinary city guardsman. However, he'd turned a blind eye to something that had now come back to bite him... Though for a long time it hadn't really interfered with his duties, this time he'd simply outdone himself.
Fortunately, Ruven took after his father in build and skill. The armor fit well, and the spear sat comfortably in his hand. He certainly wasn't planning to go after the Dragon. Three hundred years had passed; it might be long gone. And his father could well have fallen into a fire drunk or something. Though... He still had to do something. He had no particular talents — he only knew how to fight. Not for nothing had he skipped reading and writing lessons, preferring to brawl with the neighbor boys instead!
Ruven paced around the room, getting used to the gear, and stopped, staring out the window at the night street. What would tomorrow bring?

Origin:
Fenderin: damage spread halved (lower bound raised), good-quality equipment at start. +1 to strength, +1 to endurance, +2 to agility, +2 to intellect, access to champion skill

Conviction:
Black Dragon: all attribute checks tripled, +10% CHC

Attributes:
Strength: 20
Endurance: 20 
Agility: 18 
Perception: 17
Intellect: 12
Willpower: 10                    

Skills:

Polearm Weapon

I. +1 to strength, +1 to endurance, +30 to accuracy and evasion [3]
II. +1 to attack range  [3]
III. +1 to agility, +1 to endurance, +2 to accuracy per point of perception and agility [4]
IV. +2 to evasion per point of perception and agility [4]

Piercing Strikes [3]
+10% CHC

Preemptive Strike  [5]
Attacks each enemy that enters attack range, agility/5 times per round. An enemy that fails a strength+endurance check against the character's strength check will interrupt its attack

Specialization: two-handed spear
I. +3 to agility, +1 to attack radius [2]

Armored Combat

Equipment: heavy armor, two-handed spear, money, provisions, a collection of dragon legends.

The eastern district of the city is not the most welcoming place, but it is relatively peaceful, especially considering that all the merchants traveling from the northern kingdoms pass through the eastern gate. However, this is not a district for merchants or travelers, but for guards. They are everywhere: patrols are changing, a guard is on duty at the gate, crossbowmen leisurely patrol the city walls, occasionally glancing around furtively, stopping to rest their legs at one of the towers. Knull doesn't seem to interest them; only one of them looked at him with disapproval, as people look at beggars or stray dogs, snorted, and continued on his guard duties.
The first somewhat remarkable place that Dunkaniël encountered was a wayfarer's inn: a stable and an inn in one place. Merchants arrive here, and one can leave a horse, livestock, and non-living goods here, and stay overnight without amenities, but at a low price. Judging by the size of the stables, one can also buy or rent a means of transportation. In the morning, there don't seem to be too many people; the merchants will start arriving around noon.

Seeing what he needed, Knull walked straight to the inn and looked for an attendant.

haha, I reread my quest and noticed Ruven reading a book, and further down in the text, there's a line about his illiteracy. Fixed it.

Maybe he was just pretending to read.

For the foreign woman, the inquisitive faces of the guards and their attire were as strange as she was to them, but the woman did not react and, with an indifferent expression, stepped down the steps to the ground.
— Good day to you, defenders of this land, — she said, bowing politely to the guards, — I am Kotori from the Shinomiya clan, and I have come from the distant western islands. — After a short pause, she continued. — Unfortunately, I am not familiar with the local customs, but I would not want to cause any trouble for the local people, so if you would be so kind, could you tell me about my rights and obligations during my stay here?

Kotori was surrounded by three guards at once...
— Oh, Lady Kotori, I will gladly tell you everything and even show you... — the first one tried to make a gallant gesture, but after receiving an elbow in the ribs from his comrade, he sighed and stepped back.
— Calm down, young man, — the second, outwardly the very embodiment of the ideal guard: tall, well-built, and with a terrible mustache covering half his face, pushed his comrade aside and began to speak. — So, rights. Or rather, not rights, but prohibitions. They are probably the same as everywhere else. Don't steal, don't argue with the guards. Obey the nobility. The nobility is not quite the same as everywhere else. Everywhere there are feudal lords, seigneurs. We have not only that. We have a free people. We have a city council. Laws. Here...
He speaks so solemnly, so convincingly, and so meaninglessly that his speech is like thick tar, viscous, murky, and completely uninviting. Attention is drawn to the third guard, who skillfully stands between the second and Shinomiya, and now bombards her with meaningless and more personal questions than the situation requires.
— So, you are from that very shogunate? And why did such a beautiful lady decide to leave her homeland? And why is the lady traveling alone, isn't that dangerous? And does the lady have a husband?...

— Hey, you fools, — the fourth one, who had been talking to the ship's owner, interrupted, his coat had a different patch than the others — a sign of a guard officer. — Stop bothering the lady, don't embarrass yourselves and the city. I should have come up to you right away... I apologize for my subordinates, lady... Kotori Shinomiya, right? Welcome to Tirren. Lieutenant of the Guard, Fabris Allegro. First, please tell me the purpose of your arrival and your profession, and I will tell you about the laws and rules for foreigners.

Before handing over the money, Unus asked

— How do I prove to your colleagues that the tax has been paid?

The captain sighed heavily.
— You will show my receipt to the guard, if they ask, — he waved the paper on which he had been writing all this time. — It has a permit for preaching, my seal, and my signature. Even my illiterate fools will recognize them. By the way. The city guard could use some new... that is, volunteers. Especially those who are capable of fighting. So you know what to do if your purse is empty. Any more questions?

- On the cart. I'm tired of walking, - Krait approached the caravan. - And who am I? Just someone going to the city. A traveler. What's wrong with that?

-- Nothing... -- the caravan leader flinched slightly as Krait approached. -- There's room on the cart, even if it's a bit uncomfortable.
When Krait settled on the cart with some degree of comfort, the leader finally added:
-- We... we mistook you for a bandit, don't take it to heart. You just look intimidating.


Added 28 minutes later

Having seen what he needed, Knud walked to the inn without hesitation and looked for an attendant.

The attendant, a short-haired man of middle age with a dry, gaunt face, on which large, round eyes strangely contrasted with a low forehead, sat at a large table opposite the entrance. An entire squad could fit at such a table, and the man seemed to enjoy the fact that all this space, whose cleanliness was only disturbed by an inkwell, a small stack of papers, and a box, belonged only to him, as he sat at the table with the bearing of not an official, but a lord.
-- Good morning. How can I help you?

Added 2 minutes later
Completely forgot about the spread. Recalculated the stats.
Frag, are you going to start from Tyrren? Or like everyone else? The second option would be better; otherwise, I'll have to check the stats too often.
Tomorrow is almost a free day, so it should be faster. And on Sunday, it's the opposite. I'll warn you when the activity drops significantly.

- I hear that a lot. People aren't used to beards, - Krait tugged at his bushy beard and let out a short chuckle, the sound echoing like a boulder tumbling into a mountain gorge. - And even if I were a bandit and attacked your caravan alone, I still wouldn't be able to carry much loot on my back, - he added knowingly.
Relaxing, he glanced towards the city:
- It doesn't seem far now. If any scoundrels show up, they'll think twice before messing with me.

The captain sighed heavily.
-- Show my note to the guards if they ask, -- he waved a piece of paper, on which he had been writing all this time. -- It contains permission to preach, my seal, and my signature. Even my illiterate fools will recognize them. By the way. The city guard could use some new... that is, volunteers. Especially capable ones. So you know what to do if your purse is empty. Any more questions?

- Thank you for the offer, Roberto, - said Unus, paying the captain. - Usually, I earn money by preaching or teaching literacy and writing, but hm, he said that I can't do that, I need a teacher skill it's always good to try something new. May the All-Mighty be with you, Captain!

After paying, taking the permission, and saying goodbye to the guard, Unus headed to the Church of the All-Mighty.

Added 2 minutes later

And on Sunday -- it's exactly the opposite.

Are you going to church with righteous Christian women?

The verbal barrage from the Haven guardians almost caught Kotori off guard, but fortunately, the lieutenant resolved the situation before she had to fend off a legion of unexpected questions. "Correct," Kotori confirmed, acknowledging the accuracy of the name Fabrice had mentioned, and bowed again. "I am looking for my husband, Keichi Shinomiya. He was supposed to arrive in your city three years ago..."

- I hear that a lot. People aren't used to the beard, - Krait tugged at his bushy beard and chuckled, the sound echoing like a boulder tumbling into a mountain gorge. - And even if I were a bandit and attacked your caravan alone, I still wouldn't be able to carry much loot on my back, - he added knowingly.
Relaxing, he glanced towards the city:
- It doesn't seem far now. If any scoundrels show up, they'll think twice before messing with me.

-- Heh. N-yeah. It was even quieter in winter; all this rabble hid in their burrows. Now they're crawling out...
One of the riders slowed down, deftly maneuvering, and pulled a wineskin from the cart and took a swig.
- Martin, not again, or I'll make you eat it! Put the wineskin down.
- What's the big deal, boss? We're almost there, - he took another swig. - Now we have a mighty Knight of the Cart with us; what could possibly go wrong?
The man called Martin offered the wineskin to Krait.
- Have you ever been to Tirr?

- Nah, - the Knight took the container and took a sip of the drink. - What's up? Or, more precisely, where can a fighter make some money?

A middle-aged man with short-cropped hair, a lean, angular face, and large, round eyes that strangely contrasted with his low forehead, sat behind a large table opposite the entrance. An entire squad could fit behind such a table, and the man seemed to enjoy the fact that all this space, disturbed only by an inkwell, a small stack of papers, and a box, belonged solely to him, as he sat at the table with the bearing not of an official, but of a lord.
-- Good morning. How may I help you?

-- Good morning, -- said Knuth, as if stating a fact. -- I would like to rent a room.

"Thank you for the offer, Roberto," Unus said, paying the captain. "Usually, I earn a living through alms for preaching or by teaching literacy and writing, but the GM said I can't do that; I need the Teacher skill. It's always good to try something new. May the All-Holder keep you, captain!"

Having paid, taken the permit, and bid farewell to the guardsman, Unus headed toward the church of the All-Holder.

-- Don't do anything stupid.

Leaving the city walls and crossing the bridge over the Mortlah, Unus finds himself on the right bank. The suburb of the right bank resembles a village more than anything: shacks are built without any planning, small livestock graze right in the streets, everything is uneven and disorderly, though not exactly filthy. Most of the men have gone to work, some in the city, some in the fields; only women argue lazily, and boys run about on errands understood only to them. The church, the only notable place, stands some distance from the settlement — whether people shun it, or the priest himself demanded it.
The abode of the All-Holder looks very unimpressive compared to the Ardor temples, especially against the backdrop of the majestic Tirren — a small stone building from which the plaster has long since peeled away, and the wind blows through the gap of a crooked door. The priest stands outside, gazing thoughtfully at the high walls of Tirren. Seeing Unus, he first smiles reservedly at a fellow believer, but a second later his face takes on a stern and almost distrustful expression.
-- The All-Holder bless you. An inspection?


Added after 27 minutes

Planning to go to church with some righteous Christian women?

Even worse. The guys and I will take long, hard objects and hit and poke first at rubber, then each other. Morning and evening. For over two hours. In special suits...

The verbal offensive of the law enforcement officers almost caught Kotori off guard, but fortunately, the lieutenant resolved the situation before she had to fend off a legion of unexpected questions.
— Correct. — Confirming the correctness of the name mentioned by Fabris, Kotori bowed again. — I am searching for my husband, Keichi Shinomiya; he was supposed to arrive in your city three years ago...

-- Three years, hm? -- the lieutenant suppressed a smile. -- If he acquired housing here, the town hall should have information. If he knows a trade, you can ask the guild master... All this provided that he stayed in the city, of course. Very well. In that case, you need to know the following about our regulations: most laws are the same for locals and newcomers and should be obvious given that every citizen, except for a slave, is considered a free person and any harm caused to them is punished accordingly. A private individual is not subject to any taxes by default. As for restrictions — the nobility quarter and the Stronghold are closed to you except by personal guarantee. You cannot independently appear in court, own real estate, or organize your own enterprise of any type. As for basic principles, I believe that's all... Do you have any remaining questions?
Marked:
City Center, town hall
East Quarter, guard post
Nobility Quarter
Stronghold
Artisans Quarter

Added after 15 minutes

- Nope, - the Knight took the container and took a sip of the drink. - So what's the deal? Or rather — where can a fighter make some coin?

The wine in the skin is not too tart, but strong, spicy and slightly dries the throat. Invigorating.
-- The herald sometimes announces a job at noon where people capable of holding a sword are needed, whether it's a request from a merchant, some village elder, or even a big shot. But that depends on luck. If you want something more reliable — every time I arrive, they call me into the guard, but I know what kind of rot that is. Still, it'll do for extra cash, better than being a bouncer in a brothel. Also, in the Stronghold, Knights sometimes hold competitions and may even invite a foreigner, but you understand those people — words, honors, vague prospects, but the purse is empty... And finally, there are various competitions for civilians, but they are rare. On the other hand, they aren't stingy with the winner's reward and there's no shortage of girls afterward. But Tirren is just that kind of place for a warrior — earnings depend on luck, but expenses — please, as many as you wish...
Marked:
City Center, square
East Quarter, guard post
Stronghold

Added after 3 minutes

-- Morning, -- said Knud, as if stating a fact. -- I'd like to rent a room.

-- Easy. One silver per day. Or five coppers in the common room.
10 copper -- 1 silver
10 silver -- 1 gold