ScaleGuard 3: I Accidentally Started a Communist Revolution in Another World Page 2
“No thanks necessary, citizen!” Lyra was still speaking unnecessarily loudly.
“Hey,” Kono’s voice whispered next to my ear. “What’d I miss?”
I looked over my shoulder and raised an eyebrow. The foxgirl was crouched next me, holding up an expensive-looking necklace and grinning ear to ear.
“That was fast,” I whispered.
“I’m very good at what I do.”
“Alright, so I guess we should…”
There was a bright light from between the treeline and the manor house. I blinked in confusion as the light solidified into a sigil on the ground, and something began emerging from it.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Kono hissed. “He has a crystal defender? In this backwater!? He can afford that!?”
“He was a what?” I asked, but my question was answered as the creature completed its emergence from the magical sigil. It was massive and vaguely humanoid in shape and made of glowing blue crystals.
And it was also charging right for us.
“What the fuck!?” I heard Lord Simion shout as his what I assumed must have been a very expensive security measure suddenly manifested and started attacking the treeline. “There must be more of those deathdrakes!”
If anyone said anything else, I don’t know, because me and Kono were both running like hell at that point.
I soared through the forest, my feet barely touching the ground as I propelled myself forward with as much speed as I could muster. Somehow I managed to avoid running face first into a treetrunk, but even with how fast I was moving I could still hear that massive crystal golem tearing the woodlands apart, crashing through the trees as it pursued us.
All of sudden, I was out of the forest and standing on the edge of a river. There was a drop of about four feet in front of me, and the running water seemed to stretch out somewhere between twenty and thirty feet across. Way too far to jump.
“Any ideas, Kono?” I asked. And when she didn’t answer I realized that we’d been separated in the forest.
I turned around just in time to see the crystal defender come crashing through the treeline. Before I could react, its forearm slammed painfully into my chest and I went flying backward through the air.
My last thoughts just before I hit the water and everything went black were: “Georgian.” That’s what that architectural style is called.
II
Mebdurb
I woke up in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room.
My head ached and my chest burned and my vision kept pulsing with a misty blackness that threatened to overtake me at any moment. Whenever I moved a muscle, a wave of nausea washed over me and filled the bottom of my stomach. I really needed to stop passing out and waking up in weird places.
With a mighty effort of will, I shot myself up to sitting position. This proved to be a bad idea-- that wave of nausea crashed down on me so hard that I immediately collapsed back onto the mattress and moaned in pain. It wasn’t a total loss, however. I did manage to see a bit more of my surroundings in the half a second I was sitting up.
The room was mostly plain and made out of gray stones. There was a dresser made of some lightly colored wood against one of the walls, and a chair and side table to my left. It looked like some kind of bowl was sitting on the table, but I didn’t get a good enough look. To my right was a wall, with a window just above me.
Most importantly, however, was the dull yellowish carpet on the floor and the creature that lay on it. Riverjaw was looking up at me with what I assumed must have been the crocodilian equivalent of concern.
“Hey buddy,” I managed to croak once the nausea had faded enough for me to turn my head and look at him. “How long have I been out? How long have you been out?”
My crocodile companion didn’t reply. He just looked at me for a moment. Then, apparently satisfied that I was alright, he laid his head back down on the carpet.
“That… creature appeared out of thin air shortly after I put you to bed.”
I raised my eyes and blinked a few times until the figure in the doorway solidified. Turned out it was an older man with a patchy black beard and thin hair. He wore a white robe that was mostly pristine save for a few odd discolorations here and there.
“It didn’t seem like it wanted to let me remain near you, so I stayed back.” The man nodded to Riverjaw, who had raised his head up and was looking at the new person with an open mouth. “I am Listro, by the way, the priest here.”
“Cool,” I said. Speech was getting easier; I only felt a little bit sick when I said that. “The priest where, exactly?”
Listro shrugged. “Mebdurb,” he said. “Little village in Eastern Hyralia. I assume you’ve never heard of it.”
“You assume correct.”
The priest smiled, but didn’t move into the room. His eyes flickered to Riverjaw, who was still making threatening poses at him. “You were fished out of the river early this morning,” he said. “I would like to continue healing you but, well…”
“Riverjaw,” I said. “Heel.”
I had never, at any point, trained my crocodile to obey commands like a dog, but he got my meaning and relaxed. Listro nodded gratefully and stepped into the room, cautiously, with his eyes constantly moving to Riverjaw.
“You said this morning?” I asked, as he placed his hands over my chest. A warm glow came from them, not unlike Lyra’s Lay on Hands power. “What time is it now?”
“Nearly dusk,” Listro said. “Your… pet has not left your side for hours.”
The pain was fading away now. “Thank you,” I told him. “How much do I owe you for this?”
The priest raised an eyebrow and then shook his head. “You owe me nothing,” he said. “It is my duty to help those in need.”
“Neat. You a priest of anyone in particular?”
Again, Listro shook his head. “I am devoted to my community,” he told me. “Perhaps I will one day dedicate myself to a god who offers better things to my people, but until then I am sworn to no deity.”
“Probably wise,” I said. “I’m a Champion of Sobek myself.”
He started. “Truly?”
“Yeah, Riverjaw there is a crocodile. It’s Sobek’s sacred animal.”
“I confess, I have never heard of Sobek,” Listro said. “But then again, new gods come to this world every day, it seems. Is he a wise god?”
“Fuck no,” I laughed. “But, uh, he did say I was supposed to spread worship of him, so pretend I didn’t say that.”
Listro chuckled. “I shall.” He took his hands away. I felt a lot better now, but also so very tired.
“My name’s Gideon, by the way,” I said. “Call me Gids.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Gids.”
“If a party of adventurers comes looking for me, send them here,” I said. “Blonde elf paladin, a human girl with short hair and a lot of dark clothes, and a red-headed foxgirl who doesn’t know how to cover her midriff.”
Listro blinked in surprise. “A foxfolk?” he asked. “I will let them know should they appear, friend. But for now, get some rest. Perhaps tomorrow you can tell me of how you ended up in that river?”
My turn to chuckle. “Trust me, padre,” I said, “you are probably better off not knowing.”
*
The next time I woke up, I felt refreshed and rejuvenated. And as an added bonus, the room I was in was no longer unfamiliar.
I expected my limbs to feel stiff when I climbed out of the bed, but instead they felt spry and great. Note to self: don’t underestimate priestly healing magic. My bare soles touched the rough carpet, and I gingerly stepped over Riverjaw, who seemed to still be in the process of waking up.
For the first time, I was able to take stock of what I was wearing: simple brown robes that were slightly itchy. I hoped like hell that my
equipment was still around. The leather armor, sure, but also the magic axes. I’d just found those when I was in the dead and decaying city of Arvalas; I didn’t want to lose them already.
Riverjaw and I walked out of the room and down the hall of what I assume was the local temple. Judging by the light from outside the windows, it was early morning.
“You must have faith in them…” drifted Listro’s voice from down the hall.
“Faith?” asked another voice as I drew closer. This one sounded like it belonged to a younger man. “I’ve seen too much to have faith, Listro. They robbed us last time taxes were short, and then Simion had Jukka beaten to a pulp, remember?”
“The situation has not grown that desperate,” Listro insisted.
“Yet,” the younger man. “It hasn’t grown that desperate yet. But it will. When the villagers are faced with the choice of robbing us or letting their families go hungry, which do you think they will choose?”
I don’t know if the pause after that question was because Listro didn’t have an answer, or if he was just gathering his thoughts, because by this point I’d made it to the door the voices were coming from, and I knocked on it.
“Listro?” I asked. “Or… Father Listro? Holy Listro? What’s the priestly honorific here?”
The door opened and Listro stood there. “Just Listro is fine, Gids,” he said. “I don’t like holding myself above people. Are you feeling well this morning?”
“Dandy,” I told him, but my eyes focused on the young man behind him. He had a gray hue to his skin, and his unruly hair was a mix of dark gray and black that ended up looking blue the way the light caught it. He also had animal ears poking out of his head and a bushy tail the same color as his hair. The foxboy was frowning and averting his gaze from me in the manner of a man who was trying to seem unobtrusive but was really pissed about it.
“Hi,” I said. “I’m Gids. Sorry, Listro, I didn’t know you had company.”
“It’s fine,” Listro said. “Young Radu here helps me around the temple. He has recently become a priest.”
“It’s a pleasure,” Radu told me, and from his tone it was obvious that it was anything but.
“Same here,” I said, forcing a smile. I turned my attention to Listro. “I was wondering if my, um, belongings washed up with me?”
“Of course,” Listro said. “Your clothing is dried out, and I have salvaged your pack as best I could.”
“And my axes?”
For a second, the priest frowned. “Axes, plural?” he asked. I damn near had a heart attack before a smile broke out on the bastard’s face. “I’m kidding. Your axes are safe. They looked like fine weapons, indeed.”
“They really are. I looted them from an undead headless orc that a ghoul king had enslaved.”
Both Listro and Radu’s expressions went blank as they tried and failed to figure out how to respond to that. Fair enough; I don’t think I would have had a good response either.
“Are you hungry?” Listro asked.
I opened my mouth to say no, but the question caused me to notice that I was, in fact, starving. My stomach growled. “Yes.”
Listro guided me to a dining area, and I began to get a feel for the layout of where I was. The temple was, according to the priest, the largest building in Mebdurb, though that didn’t mean it was exactly a cathedral or anything. Instead it consisted mostly of one common area for prayer and a sort of u-shaped back hall that connected about 5 sleeping rooms, a storeroom, a bathing area, and a kitchen and dining room. The shape of the building caused it to hug a large garden growing behind it.
“Please enjoy,” Listro said, setting down a wooden bowl filled with a salad in front of me. “I grow all the vegetables myself, including the fruits for the dressing.”
“Nice,” I said, taking a bite. The lettuce and carrots and tomatoes were soaked with a purplish dressing that had a taste I couldn’t quite place, but it was disarmingly sweet. “Fuck, this is really good.”
“Listro has a talent for cultivation,” Radu said, taking a bite of his own salad. The foxboy was sitting across the table from me.
“You do as well, Radu,” Listro said with a chuckle. “Any Level 2 Priest can cast Grow Food.”
I paused, a fork speared with greens halfway to my mouth. “Wait, seriously?” I asked. “That’s a thing?”
Listro nodded, smiling. “It’s a simple spell, learned at the second level. Cast it over an area and specify which crops you desire, and they will grow there over the course of the next week, no matter the climate.”
It reminded me of my own Survivalism Ability, granted by the Beastmaster class. Part of it was that whenever I scavenged for food in the wilderness, I was guaranteed to find something edible. Even if it didn’t make sense. The first time I ever used it, I reached into a bush and somehow pulled out a goddamn banana. It sounded like Grow Food produced way more food over a longer timeframe. Plus, someone could probably make use of the seeds too, even without the spell.
“Man, farmers must really like that,” I said.
Both Listro and Radu stared at me like I had grown a second head. “Why would farmers care?” Radu asked. “It’s a Priest spell.”
“Oh.” I blinked. “Is it hard to become a priest?”
“You just need to be blessed by someone who already has the class,” Listro explained. “Then it unlocks.”
I nodded. “So it must be difficult to get to level 2 as one?”
“Not at all,” Listro told me. “Priests earn experience by helping their community. If you start at Level 1, it usually takes about a month or so to get to Level 2. Of course many people who switch to the class are already Level 3 or 4 from whatever class they were previously.”
“But you keep all your Class Abilities when you switch over, don’t you?”
“Most of them, yes,” Listro said. “So long as you’ve earned at least one level while in the class. And there are some that don’t switch over.”
“Like Priest spells?”
“No, I believe those switch over,” he said. “Or rather, you keep half the ones you know.”
I wasn’t getting it. “So, why don’t farmers just earn a level as a Priest, then switch over to Farmer and keep the Grow Food spell? I feel like that would cut down on a lot of work.”
They both stared at me.
“Because…” Radu began, then trailed off, frowning. “It’s not done that way.”
“Why not?”
He kept frowning while staring into the middle distance. He didn’t reply.
“That’s certainly an interesting idea…” Listro said. He also seemed to be staring into the middle distance. “It seems so obvious now that you say it. I’m not sure why we don’t do that.”
I shrugged. “I guess farmers don’t want to be pledged to a god?”
Listro shook his head. “You don’t need to pledge to a god to be a Priest,” he said. “Pledging gets you access to extra spells and a unique boon, but I’m not pledged to anyone. I just minister to my community.”
I tried to think of another reason why this wasn’t done. “Economics?” I asked. “Like it would drive down the price of food because it’s so abundant?”
Radu shook his head. “Who cares about that?” he asked. “Any farmer would be able to feed his family with ease. No one in the village would have to choose between starvation and tax dodging, which means they wouldn’t steal from us…”
“The villagers steal from you?”
“From the foxfolk,” Radu said. “Our village is a bit deeper into the woods, but we trade with the humans here. Every time the lord collects on his taxes, the people of Mebdurb start robbing our merchants to pay it. Then we end up with the choice to either pay and starve, or feed ourselves and be punished by Simion’s men.”
“Shit,” I said.
“Radu here is the young priest of the Foxfolk village,” Listro explained. “We meet weekly to discuss things.”
“We meet weekly so that Listro
can listen to my complaints about his people and then do nothing,” Radu grumbled.
“I have spoken to them about their behavior…”
“And yet nothing has changed!”
“So this dressing is really great, huh?” I asked, shoveling food into my face.
"Er, yes, thank you." Listro cleared his throat. "It's made from raspberries and apples."
"Delicious," I said.
"It is delicious," Radu muttered begrudgingly.
"So what's the deal with Lord Simion?" I asked. "He's in charge of the village?"
"He's in charge of this village, and the next one to the North, and the one to the South as well," Listro explained. "Lord Simion is a scion of the Welbrig family, which owns much of Western Hyralia."
"The family owns the village?"
"Indeed." Listro nodded. "It was granted to them by the Royal Family, the Harvenals. The people work the land for the nobility, who then use it to pay back the Harvenals for their land."
"Feudalism, got it." I took a bite of salad. "Sucks that the villagers don't own their own village."
"The foxfolk were here first," Radu explained, "before the humans moved in. We have been pushed to the fringes and made to play by their rules ever since."
"That was just over two centuries ago," Listro explained. "When the Harvenal family founded Hyralia."
"We are forced to live separately, in the forests, but are still expected to give payment to the local lords," Radu growled.
"Grumbling will not change things, Radu," Listro pointed out.
I held my tongue. Hyralia's sociopolitical situation seemed both equal parts simple and complicated, and I wasn't about to stick my nose in it.
"Any word on my companions?" I asked.
Listro shook his head. "Thus far I have heard nothing of any adventurers like the ones you described."
"You're an adventurer?" Radu asked. "What were you doing in the river?"
"I got knocked into it by a big monster."
"Where'd the monster come from?"
After a few seconds' hesitation, I figured that telling them I was in Hyralia to rob their lord was probably not the wisest of moves. "Places."
Radu narrowed his eyes at me. “Fascinating,” he deadpanned.