Folk, Lore

Pale, gentle giant half of a Moon looked down at them from a deep blue sky. The sun, that has already started rolling towards the edge of the world, illuminated its textured side, making it look like a dull frosted kettle. A flock of charcoal birds danced in the sky, indifferent to their magnificent neighbor. They were more interested in a gray lunar-like stone of a once-majestic crumbled tower, that stood somberly on a high sharp bank of a glorious lake. A small waterfall was falling into the waters of the lake right near the ruin. It was distorting the reflection of the gray stone, long pines that were towering over it, and swift and nimble raven silhouettes. But it was on the other side of the lake, and could not dream to touch mirroring images of Yuri, the girl and the knight, as they were looking at the gentle and pale half of a giant Moon.

“Lock Agard,” said Gaudeamus, “A fort and a wizard tower from the times of the last war.”

“What war?” asked the girl.

“How should I put it… The war. The one that broke the world, and killed the god?” said the knight, but looking into the innocent and confused eyes of the girl he continued in a softer tone, “I apologize. I forgot, for a moment, that you’ve lost your memory.”

Gaudeamus led them towards the village. They were walking on the bank of the lake, it was steep, but slowly flattening. They could see the village near the water on a gentle shore, with a narrow line of a sand beach. The knight was telling them in short the story of the war.

“What’s strange, no one can agree on when it happened. It seems like it ended not but ten years ago, but few claim that they’ve fought in it, and even they must be lying.”

Yuri was listening closely. He knew the lore of his game, of course, but he did not write Gaudeamus to info dump this particular part of the story. And he never actually settled on the details of the conflict. He was more interested in telling a story of a rebuilding world, than of whatever un-builded it.

“The legend says that our beautiful world was created by two brothers, God of Light, and God of Darkness. God of Light created skies and the earth, forests and seas. God of Darkness filled forests with shade and skies with the night,” continued Gaudeamus.

Yuri was confronted with a strong feeling that he had made the most bland and unoriginal creation myth on the face of the Earth.

“Together they filled continents with life: resilient humans, graceful elves, quick-witted nyarnae, and many more. There was peace and prosperity, until one day…”

“…the God of Darkness got jealous and turned on his brother, et cetera, et cetera,” finished the sentence Yuri with a sigh. The cliché was so predictable, that it was too painful to hear.

“That is an… interesting interpretation,” reacted the knight with sudden hesitation in his voice, “But it won’t earn you any favors among the Court. People may find it presumptuous.”

“What happened then?” asked the girl.

“God of Light in his hubris denied his brother the right over creation, and started spreading lies, saying that he was the one and only creator. God of Darkness confronted his brother, and there was a fight that engulfed the entirety of the world.”

As if to mirror the gravity of the story, the sun disappeared behind a cloud, and a chilly wind picked up from the water.

“In the end, God of Light almost destroyed his brother, not even caring if it would disrupt the balance for good. But he was betrayed by his most trusted general, and managed only to banish his brother from the world. In the process, God of Light was gravely injured. In his final moments, he looked around and saw all the destruction his pride brought. He knew, that the world would crumble with his death, and he used his last power to strengthen the most important patches, from which a new world may be born some day.”

Sunlight returned. 

“I don’t like this story,” said the girl.

“Why?”

“It doesn’t make any sense,” she said, “Why did they start fighting? What does this “right over creation” even mean?”

“Right to rule, perhaps?” said Gaudeamus, scratching the side of his helmet, “Scholars still debate over this part of the legend.”

“Why would you want to rule something you created? What could that possibly give you, that you don’t already have?”

“Reverence, maybe? Glory? Praise?”

“That’s why you start fighting, so that you could put in danger those, who are supposed to praise you,” said the girl with the most sarcastic expression on her face.

“They were blinded by anger!”

“I wonder how such stupid gods even managed to create the world before destroying it.”

“Look, we’re almost there!” exclaimed Yuri, interrupting their conversation before it got out of hand.

But they indeed were almost there. They left a small pathway along the lake, and stepped on a road that connected Woodcutters Camp with the village. It was a clay road, with deep grooves from where carts heavily loaded with timber went. They passed by stacks of logs, ready for sorting, some cabins and small houses, and approached a palisade that surrounded the village proper.

The light was getting softer, it was but a couple of hours before sunset. The reality started to shift into pastel colors, the lines were getting blurred. Despite his worries of being around people again, despite the tense conversation, despite the story of this world not matching the one he remembered, Yuri felt the calmness, into which he first awoke that day, return to him.

Gaudeamus stepped forward and hailed the guard at the gates.

“It is good to be Heinrich the Guard,” said the guard (presumably, Heinrich).

“Oh, I hope ##### is okay,” said Gaudeamus.

They looked at each other for one tense moment, and then the guard nodded towards Yuri and the girl.

“Are they with you?”

“Yes, those are weary travelers I saved in the forest. They need shelter.”

“He saved!” whispered Yuri to the girl.

“Well, he killed one rat,” she answered.

“That was going to flee!”

The knight and the guard talked a little more, and then Gaudeamus ushered them to come inside the walls.

When Yuri walked past Heinrich, he suddenly said: “Can’t wait to have a pint with the boys!”

Yuri recoiled, spooked by the sudden display of frankness, and hastened his step.

“Oh no, not another one,” muttered the guard under his breath.

The road leading into the village was wide, and not paved with anything. It twisted a little, and ended with a large round square that served as a main market. On either side of the road stood large, sturdy wooden houses, decorated in ornate carving.

“Welcome to Heartwood,” announced Gaudeamus, turning back towards Yuri and the girl, and spreading his hands, “the town famous for its fishing and—”

“A doggy!” exclaimed the girl, and rushed towards one of the side paths.

Yuri followed her with his gaze, and what he saw at the end of that path, made his hair curl with terror.

Something that could only be described as a big loaf of bread with fluffy ears was levitating a solid meter above the ground, and was flying towards them with an alarming speed. The moment when the collision seemed inevitable, the girl snatched the baked good, that turned out to indeed be a dog, and squeezed it. Happy tail wiggling ensued.

“Ah, flying coorgi!” — exclaimed Gaudeamus, “A royal breed. Thirteen generations of Kings and Queens of Gordorika have kept these dogs at their side.”

“Can we keep it?” asked the girl.

“It probably already has an owner,” said Yuri, still not over a fact that there were not supposed to be any dangerously flying dogs in his game.

“The dog must be from the orphanage. Young lady could ask there if they let you take it,” commented Gaudeamus.

“Orphanage?” asked Yuri.

“Oh yes. ’Tis but a modest village, but somehow orphans for centuries found their way here. A lot of them surprisingly became renovned adventurers later in life. The villagers decided to build a place, where these youths would prepare for the life of adventure.”

The girl put the dog down. Its paws connected with earth without issue, and the creature began sniffing Yuri’s injured leg.

“Why the dogs, though?” asked Yuri, petting the furry loaf.

[+1 HP]

“So that kids would learn to care for another living creature. It is also customary to take a dog with you when leaving the orphanage to have a first trusted companion”.

“I would like to have a first trusted companion,” said the girl.

“Am I not enough?” said Yuri, getting absorbed in the scratching of the dog’s large ears. The dull pain in his leg lessened.

[+1 HP]

“You’re more like a pet,” she answered nonchalantly.

Yuri shot her a skeptical look.

“Perhaps, we should hurry to show you to a physician, before he ends his practice for the day?” said Gaudeamus.

Yuri and the girl were not opposed to that idea.

Gaudeamus led them back to the main street and into the market square, that was full of people, who finished their work for the day and went out to get supplies for the next. The dog followed them, this time using its legs.

Villagers wore clothing with simple cuts, clearly (Yuri would know) inspired by early medieval fashions. But simple did not mean plain. They more than made up for it in colors, adornments, and demeanor. Greens, blues and purples, metal brooches and woven belts, loud cheerful voices. But what bothered Yuri the most, is that every villager they passed always cried out some random exclamation into the air.

“Heartwood wood is the best wood in the kingdom!”

“Wolves are getting out of hand lately.”

“When I grow up, I’ll become a knight!”

Gaudeamus would answer these bits of inner monologue with some thoughts of his own, which would have nothing to do with what they just heard. It felt like everyone was playing a secret game, but Yuri was the only one who didn’t know the rules.

To distract himself, he looked at the stalls. A lot of fish, as one would expect. Gifts of the forest: herbs and berries, furs and woodwork. Surprising amount of leather boots. Like, a lot. Most of them seemed to be used. A whole stall of clay pots of various shapes and sizes, a great number of which were sealed.

One of the pots has somehow already found its way into the girl’s hands.

“A nice lady gave it too me!” she explained.

“What’s inside?” asked Yuri.

The girl shook the pot in front of her ear.

“Hm-m… It seems empty.”

“Then why is it sealed?”

She shrugged. Then she gave it to the dog to sniff. It immediately started gnawing at the pot.

“Hey, you’re making it wet!” exclaimed the girl with laughter in her voice, and smiled towards Yuri, “Well, whatever it is, the doggy likes it.”

Yuri smiled back. This town was full of small oddities, and Yuri could not wrap his head around them, but this one seemed harmless enough.

At this moment, he noticed that the energy of the place has slightly shifted. It was still bustling and loud, but it started to concentrate in one point. And this point was very familiar to Yuri. He had to redraw it thirteen times, before deciding that it would be good enough.

“What’s that?” asked the girl, following Yuri’s gaze.

“Oh, that?” responded Gaudeamus, “That’s the main shop of the village. It also handles the relationship with outside world. So that’s why its owner would be the Elder.”

“Elder? Such a strange name.”

“It’s not a name. It’s a position. He is a head of this village, an Elder. To say the truth, I’m not sure if I remember his actual name. Everyone just calls him Elder.”

The girl looked at Yuri with triumph in her eyes.

“See, not everyone needs a name to be called!”

Yuri thought to himself, that if he tried to think of a name for every NPC, he would’ve hanged himself sooner. Sooner?

“I thought you wanted me to come up with a name for you,” he said instead.

“And I want to! But not because I need one, as you see. I just want you to do it, since you’ve made a fuss about it.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

There was one more reason to not make a name for the Elder. He was supposed to be the main character’s father. And Yuri wanted the player to not be constrained by the existing surname. He could also imagine how all the McFarty Souslands would look on a character screen.

And this store, which also had no name for the same reason, would be a home base for the protagonist in a starting area. That’s why it had to look absolutely right. And it did, when looking it from inside the game world. Big, three floors high, with a front covered in moss and intricate carvings, it dominated the view of the market, and instantly attracted attention.

On the wide stairs of the porch, a small crowd gathered. A big man in an ankle-long loose red coat stood at the top of the stairs, holding a staff. He had warm eyes, bulbous nose and a black bushy beard with some gray in it. In the middle of the stairs, children nested, like a bunch of hungry birds. A smaller group of grown-ups stood around the bottom of the stairs.

The big man at the top addressed his audience.

“Children, children. Give this old man a moment. I was just trying to get a breath of fresh air,” he said, and sighed so sincerely, that you could feel, that despite his build, he was but a tired old man.

“C’mon, Elder! A story! A short one! Please!” shouted children.

The man shook his head with a stern expression, and waited for a couple of moments, and as the children were not intending on quieting down, he put his hand up and smiled quietly.

“Okay, okay. But only a short one,” the crowd cheered as he spoke those words. “But before, I should tell you all something important. Ada, could you come here, please?”

A teen girl, looking mature enough that one would find it hard to call her a child anymore, rose and ran up the stairs.

She had straight long black hair, and wore a black tunic that almost looked like an elegant dress from this distance.

The man put his hand on the girl's shoulder, and turned her to face other kids. She had refined features, with what one would call a sculpted severity to them. She had a small birthmark under the corner of her left eye, which almost looked like a single black tear frozen in time. It was a mostly monochrome appearance, standing out in the brightness of the village in its own right. There was one bright spot, however. A bracelet on her left wrist. It had a warm orange hue to it. At this point, looking at her from the bottom of the stairs, Yuri thought that he went a little overboard with her design. He could almost imagine a pointed hat on top of her head, turning her into a full-blown little witch — not an image he was trying to evoke.

“Ada, you have been noticed playing outside of village again,” said the Elder, “Am I right?”

The girl cast her eyes down, but more in a playful way, not because she was truly embarrassed.

“Yes.”

“And what do we always tell you about playing outside?”

“It’s dangerous.”

“Would you please look at everyone here, and tell them why?” said the Elder, and gestured towards the crowd.

“There are monsters in the forest. Woodrats, Swamp Turtles, Trihedrions, False Shimmers, Sabregrass Toothoppers.”

“And?”

“Wolves. Many, many wolves with sharp long fangs and hungry eyes, that come, and take, and tear, and howl.”

“That was… oddly specific. But no, there are many dangerous creatures in the wilds — don’t get me started on Grisly Beavers — and yet, there is no scarier monster than being lost and alone,” the Elder spoke louder and clearer. As he seemed to be getting to the point of his small lecture, he made sure that everyone heard him.

“Did he say Grizzly Beavers?” whispered the girl to Yuri.

“No, he did not,” answered Gaudeamus, with the expression the most grim. Yuri could only mirror this expression, though for his own reasons.

“And for the love of everything ever good,” continued the Elder, “Remember one thing. Never, and I mean never get lost. You can get stuck wandering between patches for months. You can come out to the other side of the world, where sand is alive, and no one speaks your tongue. You can come home in a day, and find out that a hundred years have passed.”

“But what if I have a Sunshard!” cried out one of the smaller children.

“Yeah!” shouted another.

As the attention seemed to have shifted from Ada, and as the Elder made the point of his lesson clear, he gently pushed her to get down from the top of the porch.

“I hope you understand what I’m saying. Don’t make your grandparents worry,” he said quietly.

“I do. I won’t,” she said, and disappeared in a crowd.

“As for Sunshards!” exclaimed the Elder to the rest of the children, “Also Lanterns, and Cloudberries! It is true, that they make our journeys through the wild possible. But not easy! You’re less likely to lose your companions, your destination and yourself, yes. Yet, you still don’t know if the turn of the road will bring a familiar path. Landmarks have no meaning, roads connect and intertwine as they please, and getting to your goal requires luck and sheer will.”

The children have quieted down, some whispered among themselves. The Elder paused for a dramatic effect, looking away above the houses, into the distance.

“And now for your story!” he suddenly announced, hitting the wood of his porch with a staff, “Some say that there is a way to find your way in the unknown. They speak of a mysterious stone left from the ancient times. They call it a Trailstone, as it lets you create paths through the world, that would stay as they are, no matter how many times you walk them. I’ve heard a rumor that one of those stones is hidden deep into the catacombs of Lock Agard on the other side of the lake. But I would advise you against trying to retrieve it. For it is guarded by a multiheaded beast, that have bested many brave heroes.”

Suddenly, Yuri felt someone’s presence behind his right shoulder. He slowly turned his head, and saw… He would find it very hard to describe what he saw. It was a man, wearing a blacksmith apron and gloves, alchemist goggles and one of those silly felt hats that come to a long point at a front. Like the one you’d expect to see on a Robin Hood, but this one was audaciously orange in color. He was adorned with a mismatch of all sorts of other trinkets and garments, while himself being a head taller than Yuri, with shoulders broader than those of Gaudeamus. At the same time, he had the most plain and unremarkable face in the world, with short light-brown hair in what could most accuratly be described as: the haircut.

The man looked at the Elder with a brightened expression on his face.

“I must go there!”