Nentai was relieved when Set nodded her assent, and the two sat down to face the mirror as a scene from the world below played out before the eyes of the Goddesses. In it, a small group of adventurers could be seen walking down a well-worn road, headed off on some unknown quest. Set immediately picked out the object of Nentai’s interest, the mark of the Deathless clearly visible under the gaze of the powerful Goddess.
“She’s quite attractive for a mortal. Please tell me this isn’t like the last time you developed a sudden ‘interest’ in one of them,” Set bemoaned with frustration.
“No, it’s not like that!” Nentai protested. “Please, you agreed to hear me out.”
Set let out an annoyed huff but did not get up to leave. Instead, she reclined back into her chair and waved her hand at Nentai, motioning her to proceed with her explanation. Nentai wasted no time in trying to persuade her impatient sister.
“I first noticed this one when she fulfilled a request for vengeance made in my name,” Nentai began. “I will not disturb you with the details, but it involved a series of particularly vile acts committed against an innocent young halfling girl.”
The implications of Nentai’s statement were not lost on her, and the expression on Set’s face changed to one of revulsion as she comprehended what was left unsaid in Nentai’s words.
“The Deathless continued to draw my attention as she proceeded to dispatch a rather large number of criminals, with great prejudice towards those who had committed abuses against women, I might add.”
Set nodded in understanding—the unchecked violence committed by the strong upon the vulnerable people of the world was a sore spot for many of the Pantheon, including the Goddess of Nature. It was why she had created the Protector specialization for her Wardens, granting them additional powers should they choose to oppose such despicable evil.
Nentai, seeing that the bait had been taken, closed the trap she had laid about her sister.
“Did you not recognize her as one of your own?” Nentai inquired. “She has chosen to follow the path of the Protector.”
Set looked into the mirror once again, more closely this time. The Goddess’ keen eyes focused in on the black-clad figure, seeing for the first time her own mark of the Protector upon the Deathless. Feeling somewhat rebuked by the revelation, Set returned her attention to Nentai.
“Tell me the rest,” Set requested, her voice far more cordial than it had been just a moment before.
“She has also discovered the Tokens and has even managed to unite two of them,” Nentai continued, the tenor of excitement clear in her voice. “I don’t think this is a mere coincidence.”
“Coincidence?” Set inquired. “What are you talking about? A few of the Tokens have been united many times over the millennia. The fact that some Deathless has also done so is no great feat.”
“But that’s just it, dear sister,” Nentai replied, her tone suddenly becoming quite still, almost reverent. “She isn’t just ‘some Deathless.’ This one is… something more.”
“Explain,” Set replied flatly.
“The Deathless now trapped here were the ones fortunate enough to pass through the magic of our Ritual at a precise moment in time,” Nentai recounted. “Those who were here before the Barrier was erected, or passed through it too early, were simply cast out of our world. And those who attempted to pass through too late were repelled by our magic, sent back to their home world.”
“Yes, yes,” Set replied impatiently. “I was there for the Ritual, just as you were.”
“I know sister, I know,” Nentai replied patiently. “We all thought that was the full extent of things, but I have discovered that this Deathless did not come here in the same manner.”
“What?” Set replied incredulously. “What do you mean? How did this one get here then if not through the Barrier?”
“Sister, please calm down and allow me to explain what I know,” Nentai assured Set. “Perhaps then you will understand her importance to me.”
“One of the invaders impacted the Barrier at the correct moment to pass through, but was too frail to withstand the process,” Nentai continued. “The demise of this potential Deathless inside the Barrier’s magic was quite… spectacular.”
“But the Barrier had already begun forming the Deathless when the invader died. I can only surmise that once the Barrier had begun the process of creation, it was either unwilling or unable to stop.”
“The Barrier finished the process, filling in the remaining gaps as best it could. Lacking the typical information and material it would use from the person transporting through, this particular Deathless was completed using whatever the Barrier had access to.”
“With whatever it had access to?” Set inquired suspiciously. “What exactly would that be?”
“I don’t know,” Nentai replied. “And that, my dear sister, is precisely why I’m watching her.”
1
The first leg of our journey northwards promised to be an uneventful one. The road we traveled served as a vital causeway between the Kingdom’s internal trading hub of Hasse and the main point of external trade, the capitol city of Orlan. Due to the critical importance of the route, it was both well-traveled and heavily patrolled.
We passed through many towns along the way, all of which were spaced roughly a day’s journey apart, allowing each to serve as a vital overnight resting place for the road’s many travelers. As vital as these small towns were, I was not surprised to find that almost all of them boasted a garrison of watchmen many times the size of the ones that I had seen in out-of-the-way hamlets like Tula.
“Aye, the King protects best that which brings him profit,” Khorim said when I inquired about the discrepancy.
“The watch is provided by the King?” I responded. I had assumed that each town provided for its own security.
“Yes,” Venna took up the explanation. “The cost of maintaining soldiers would be prohibitive for most small towns. Even these prosperous villages could not afford to pay for the level of protection they currently enjoy.”
“The King provides the watchmen to maintain order throughout his Realm,” Stel added. “It is a far easier and cheaper way for him to head off any trouble before it can take root.”
“So, all the watchmen we’ve encountered are conscripted peasants?” I inquired.
“No, the watch is strictly voluntary,” Venna replied. “While the watch pays well, service is limited to no more than five years. That is why most of the watchmen try to advance their careers into the military.”
“The King’s Army pays its soldiers handsomely,” Stel resumed. “And prior service in the watch is looked upon favorably during recruitment.”
I thought I understood—providing watchmen for the many small towns helped maintain order inside the Kingdom. Limiting service in the watch to five years while simultaneously offering a potential military career also made perfect sense. It was actually a very ingenious method for ensuring both internal and external security.
Our journey to Orlan did in fact go well, although it was not without incident. During the entire trip, there was only one stretch of road where we were forced to camp overnight. This wasn’t due to the towns being spaced too far apart, but rather it was because Khorim had failed to space his ales far enough apart the night before. Broda harangued the poor hung-over dwarf non-stop the entire day as he repeatedly slowed our progress. Finally, as the sky began to grow dark, we were forced to set up camp by the roadside.
“Too drunk for a single-day’s march,” Broda proclaimed loudly as we erected our tents among the sparse cover of the trees. “And on human ale at that! Imagine my humiliation.”
Khorim could only sit there and suffer her abuse, shamefully holding his head in his hands and groaning the entire time.
When we finished setting up camp, I used Create Trap to arrange a perimeter of snares around us. Once I’d reached 20% proficiency with the Spell, I gained an additional triggering mechanism for the traps
I created. In addition to automatically triggering when a hostile creature entered the field, I also had the option of a manual trigger, letting me choose when to spring the trap’s entangling vines. While not an ideal choice for nighttime security, it was still a very useful option with great potential.
After laying my traps with the automatic trigger, I returned to the camp to find a fire already going and Broda, Stel, and Venna happily conversing in the glow of its warmth. Khorim was conspicuous in his absence. Sitting down next to Venna by the fire, I was overcome with an odd sense of curiosity about the God she had chosen to serve. I knew little of the Pantheon that held dominion over this world, and on an impulse, decided to see what she would be willing to tell me.
“Venna,” I said as I joined my friends next to the fire. “I just realized how little I actually know about your Goddess, or any of the Gods of this world for that matter. Would you be willing to tell me what you can about them?”
“That’s a rather tall order, Dreya,” Venna replied. “But I shall try my best. I think perhaps it would be easiest to start with some history.”
The story Venna proceeded to tell me was incredible.
The earliest histories of this Earth told of the Gods walking openly, side-by-side among the people. They each offered their help and wisdom, aiding the young civilizations in their development. A great many wonders had been created and accomplished during this time, but an even greater number of calamities were incurred.
The Gods were benevolent for the most part, but they could also be quite petty and vindictive among themselves. Their pettiness would often manifest itself when one God would become jealous of how another had done some great work in the world. The offended God often sought to undo the accomplishment of their rival, usually with disastrous consequences for the mortals caught in the crossfire. Many such conflicts occurred, and open warfare between the rival Gods was not an uncommon occurrence.
Eventually, after a particularly devastating internecine war, the Gods finally realized that while they had the best intentions, their continued direct involvement in the world’s affairs would only lead to its inevitable destruction. Together, the Gods finally vowed to end their meddling in the day-to-day affairs of the mortal world.
Unified as one, the Gods performed a great ritual, sealing themselves off from the world almost entirely. No longer could they directly influence the events that transpired on the world below them. Their influence was not completely gone, however. The Gods could still provide subtle and indirect aid to those who earned their favor, even making an occasional appearance to bestow a boon or powerful artifact on some favored champion or apostle.
The time immediately following the Gods’ departure from the world had been mostly lost to history. It was believed that the various mortal races managed to unify for a short while, although the precise duration of that peace was still hotly debated among scholars and historians. The only certainty is that the peace ended in a great war that had devastated the entire continent, leaving most of its civilizations in total ruin. The years after became known as the Forgotten Times—a period about which little was known, and during which, a great deal of knowledge was lost in the chaos. That was many millennia ago, or so it was believed.
During the period following the great war, the dark races resurfaced. With the civilized peoples in disarray, the forces of evil ran wild, and by the time the Humans, Elves, and Dwarves could broker a peace between themselves and organize a response to the threat, the dark races had already established their stronghold.
While the new alliance held back any further advancement of the dark races, they lacked the strength to drive them from the lands that had already been taken. The dark races still held those lands, launching raids against the surrounding nations while reigning supreme over a vast region that was simply known as the Dark Lands.
“Even now, my people squabble endlessly with their neighbors, both human and dwarf,” Venna lamented when she’d finished telling her tale. “All while orcs, goblins, trolls, and even worse abominations continue to attack us from the Dark Lands.”
“Aye,” Broda added, “Were it up to my people, we’d be smashing skulls in the Dark Lands rather than skirmishing with those who should be our allies. Instead, we have fools for leaders, wasting our efforts on petty grudges.”
It all seemed like such a waste—if they would just put aside their pointless feuding, the divided people of this land could sweep away the menace from the Dark Lands. But as always, pride, envy, and jealousy conspired to weaken and divide those who should be united.
“Venna,” I said after a while. “The ritual the Gods used to seal themselves off from this world sounds a lot like the one that trapped me here.”
“Yes,” she replied. “There had been some doubt about the veracity of the legend concerning that ritual. It was always part of our teachings, but with so much knowledge lost to time, nothing was certain. I think it’s safe to say that, in this case at least, the legend has proven to be true.”
“So, they probably modified the ritual that they used before to create this one?” I asked.
“That would seem very likely,” Venna agreed.
We sat in silence for a while, the soft sounds of Khorim groaning in his sleep providing the only interruption. We tried to resume our earlier conversation, but the happy mood was lost in the wake of Venna’s somber retelling of the world’s brutal history. After a while, we gave up and retired for the night. We set no watch, confident in the security of the well-protected road and the placement of my traps.
2
The remaining days on the road to the capitol passed unremarkably. Khorim, overwhelmed with embarrassment, barely managed to consume a half-dozen ales for the entire remainder of the journey. Broda’s relentless teasing contributed to this sudden abstention almost as much as the poor dwarf’s humiliation.
As we drew closer to the capitol, we began to encounter more and more fellow travelers. The road became busy with merchants, soldiers, citizens, and even a few fellow adventurers like ourselves. I took advantage of the opportunity to practice Identify Person on all the unfamiliar faces. The progression of that Skill seemed to closely mirror Identify Enemy, and now that my proficiency was over 20%, I could see health bars above each individual as I examined them closely.
Although my friends had told me what to expect, when Orlan itself finally came into view, I was unprepared for just how impressive the massive city truly was. Orlan’s location had originally served as the main defensive barrier between the people of Lorida and the many dangerous threats roaming the wilds of the continent. As such, it had been constructed primarily as a powerful walled fortress, and tall walls of sheer stone dominated the outer areas of the city. Dotted with fortifications, the impressive structures provided a daunting barrier for any approaching threat. While it served an important role in shielding the citizens of the Kingdom from danger, the city itself was not the Realm’s main line of defense—that responsibility lay with the massive fortifications that had been erected alongside the city.
Orlan lay at the southern end of a narrow isthmus connecting Lorida to the rest of the mainland. Most of the crossing was dominated by high, nearly impassible mountains. Along its eastern shore, however, lay a thin strip of land that provided the only overland approach to the Kingdom. It was across the narrowest point of this thin strip that Lorida had built its impenetrable wall.
Stretching from the city’s own outer wall and ending a few hundred yards away at the water’s edge, the great fortification fairly bristled with towers and siege weapons of all description. The fields beyond the wall were littered with traps and obstacles designed to slow an enemy’s approach, and the single road through the wall’s lone gate was heavily guarded.
The Kingdom’s commitment to protecting its citizens from the terrors of the mainland was impressive. Even more so, knowing that Orlan was now the secondary line of defense, as a new fortification called The Citadel had since been erected at
the northern end of the isthmus.
Once we finally passed through the gates of the great city, Stel took the lead, as he always did when we entered a larger city. His height and uncanny recall of the streets made him the logical choice as a guide. Stel’s job was made even easier by the well-ordered grid pattern that the city’s architects had imposed.
Looking about, I was struck by how Orlan was both similar and yet very different from Hasse. I soon realized that the differences were due to the fact that Hasse served as the internal hub of commerce for the Kingdom, while Orlan was its primary source for external trade.
Just as in Hasse, the streets fairly teemed with merchants and crafters of all races and professions. Once again, dwarves, elves, and halflings were present in sizable numbers alongside the Kingdom’s native human population. Remarkably, a rather large portion of the residents were of mixed orcish heritage as well. Recalling a scene from the streets of Hasse, I observed a young green-skinned woman posing seductively outside a tavern while a hawker conjured up enticing images of even more exotic pleasures to be had within. The scene stirred up an old memory from the dead man, something about a Captain named Kirk… Unfortunately, the memory faded away before I could grasp its meaning.
We had only made a few quick turns before Stel brought us safely to our destination, an inn known as The King’s Rest. Stepping inside, I found the interior to be completely underwhelming. While the inn was perfectly fine, I had been expecting something more now that we were in the capitol. Instead, the sight I was greeted with was nearly identical to the inside of almost every inn we had stayed at while traveling around the small hamlets of Lorida.
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