Chapter Four - A Hint of Civilisation

“I’m not angry. No, no, it would take a lot more than some misinformation and society-wide idiocy to make me angry.

“I’m merely... disappointed. In you, in the world you’ve created, in everyone that followed along.”

***

Our brisk walk had me passing the first few farms in no time at all.

They weren’t very impressive farms. A few homes, little more than shacks, with thatch roofs and walls made of piled up boards. Not terribly nice to look at, and I imagined they were just as uncomfortable to live in.

These homes were dotted here and there across the hilly countryside, with emaciated barn animals grazing around them, and some fenced-off gardens filled with all sorts of plants spaced seemingly at random.

Farming was one of those things that I had never truly cared to study all that much. There was only so much playing with manure I could do for science before I would find something more lucrative to do.

The people out in those fields had wide brimmed hats made of a yellowish plant woven together, and seemed to disregard Alex and I with little more than a glance.

To be fair, we were quite a ways away from any of them, and coming from a direction with no obvious road.

I would have to see how people reacted to our undeath when we got closer.

“Look Sir Papa, a road,” Alex said as he pointed out ahead. My butler moved on ahead of me, skipping in a terribly undignified way until he landed with both feet atop a road of beaten earth. There were hints of cobbles here and there on the path, but little else.

There was a lot you could tell about a country from its roads, I found. They were the lifelines of a city, the things that allowed people to travel and thrive. Knowledge, more often than not, travelled along these paths.

To see a road so pitted and poorly made, not to mention so poorly maintained. It didn’t bode well for the intelligence of the local leaders.

I tapped my oxfords together and used a minor cantrip to clean off the muck from them and the hem of my pants. Tweed was a wonderful material, but dust did tend to cling to it rather ferociously at times.

“Let’s keep on going, Alex my boy.”

“Yes Bone Papa, Sir.”

We were just coming close enough to the town proper to make out its walls when we encountered a little group of people coming our way.

I would ordinarily have assumed them to be travellers, but their garb was strange.

Now, to be entirely fair, I wouldn’t expect something as fickle as fashion to remain the same over any prolonged period. Just in my lifetime and subsequent unlifetime there had been great shifts in the manner by which people dressed.

The lower classed folk tended to change very little with time, but the working class, the merchant families, and those who congregated in cities, tended to have styles and phases in their choice of clothes that would change quite sporadically.

The nobility were generally far more fickle, of course.

These young men wore outfits that were downright bizarre. Long coats with trailing tails made of some sort of leather, with tall collars that circled around the lower half of their faces. They all had longer hair, tied in intricate braids that fell to the small of their backs, and great billowing sleeves that they folded into each other with their arms crossed.

Most intriguing of all were the many canisters around their waists, only partially hidden by their leather coats.

Weapons? Perhaps vials used for collecting samples? Were these the scientists of the modern era? Their coats would certainly offer some rudimentary protection from some volatile chemicals, though their sleeves would be a liability in a laboratory.

I reached out a hand and pressed it to the centre of Alex’s back.

“Great Word of Lexicography: Translate.”

The burst of magic had Alex wobbling a bit with his next few steps, and he turned towards me with an open question in his glowing eyes.

“A translation spell,” I explained. “So that we can be understood, and vice-versa. There’s no greater loss than that brought by poor communication.”

“So I can talk to people? I think I might like talking to people.”

“Hmm, I’ve no doubt,” I said. “Do you know how a butler should behave before strangers?”

Alex’s back straightened and he held himself differently. Taller, more noble. Even his expression flattened to one of bored interest. “Yes,” he said. “I need to be very polite to the guests of sir Papa Bone Daddy.”

“Indeed,” I said. For all of Alex’s... excentricities, he did seem to understand the role he was created for. I could endure a bit of strangeness if he was capable of handling his duties with an appropriate level of seriousness and diligence.

I made sure I was presentable myself before continuing on towards the three young men out ahead of us.

When we were only a few dozen necrometers away the young men came to a stop. I could see eyes narrowing and postures shifting subtly as they took us in. Alex seemed to garner some attention, but not nearly as much as myself.

Ah, they could probably observe my level. Yes, I suppose that I didn’t often appear as fearsome as my level would indicate.

“Greetings,” I said.

The men looked to each other, then one of them stepped up. “A talking skeleton, huh? You have made a grave mistake coming to the empire, undead one.”

That was informative!

Three key pieces of information jumped out to me. First, they didn’t have a way to properly observe the difference in strength between us. Second, they seemed to have some sort of prejudice against the undead--not terribly uncommon, that--and third, the region was part of some sort of empire. Not a kingdom, though that wasn’t mutually exclusive.

The form of government they had would need some further speculation, but it was hardly the time for that.

“I beg your pardon,” I said quite politely. “My butler Alex here and I are merely passing through. We’re on the lookout for a library. Perhaps a store from which I could purchase some reading material. I assure you I mean no harm.”

“Senior brother Yan, we should take its head. The sect master would reward us, I think,” one of the young men said.

The other tilted his head to the side. “Would our poisons work on it?”

The one in the lead, the so-called Yan, nodded. “The poisons of the Four Venoms Sect go beyond just the material. Remember your dao, junior brothers.”

Were they ignoring me? That was rather rude.

Alex cleared his throat. “Please forgive us, new friends, but you seem to be under the impression that we wish you ill. That is not the case. Magic Bone Papa said so.”

I observed one of the gentlemen to the side of the group pulling his arm out of his sleeve before flicking it forwards. Two needles flew out of his grasp and moved with decent speed across the space between us, both, surprisingly, aimed towards Alex.

I carefully plucked one out of the air to better observe it, and let the other plunge into my butler. It would allow me to verify the claim that their poisons truly did work on the undead.

The needle had an interesting tip with something of a divot in it. The poison seemed to be oil-based, at least judging by its viscosity.

Oil of the Scrubpion, Enhanced Injury Poison. DC-6. 1d6+2/hour. Duration based on Con save.

Interesting. Weak, and possibly debilitating, but not overly so. And not something that I would expect to work on any kind of undead. There was more to it though, an ability that the young man had used when throwing his needles that made them more effective. Some sort of rogue ability?

“Are you well, Alex?”

My butler fished the needle out of his clothes. It had failed to pierce his skin, unfortunately, so I would be unable to see its effects on his constitution.

Oh well.

“You are trespassing on the land of the sect,” Yan shouted. It was quite unnecessary, we were hardly that far apart. “Prepare to die, undead scum!”

“For the emperor!” his chums screamed as they darted about.

Judging by the rapidity of their motions and the way they handled their weapons--mostly needles and one whip--they were quite obviously little more than children.

“Word of Power: Sleep.”

Three bodies hit the ground.

I sighed to myself. What a pointless waste of time. “Come along Alex, we should move on.”

“Should we tuck them in to sleep?” Alex asked.

I paused. There was no point in wasting any more time with these three rude young men than I had. They would awaken eventually and be little the worse for it. Perhaps they would even learn a lesson.

This region didn’t seem all that dangerous either. So close to a populated town, the likelihood of them being brutalized by a predatory animal was slight, and I couldn’t imagine there being that many bandits in such a small place.

On the other hand, I could learn much by going through their possessions.

In the end, it was common decency and the nearness to the town that decided things for me. “Let’s just keep going, Alex.”

“Okay,” Alex agreed easily.

Our random encounter completed--and no real adventure was complete without one--we continued on our way to the town, though as we approached I found that calling it a town might be something of a misnomer.

The walls, about three necrometers high around, were of mortared stone, with a small tiled roof running above them. There were a few buildings along the exterior, but most of the village... or perhaps a small city, was contained within these walls. A portion of it was atop a hill to one side, mostly a compound of sorts that had the airs of a very strange castle, with pagodas and greater walls around it.

The residence of the local nobility, perhaps?

A lake sat across from the town, and I could make out a few little boats with triangular sails skimming along the surface, some trailing nets behind them.

So, the local diet was no doubt supplemented by fish as well as what was grown in the meager farms, and perhaps some food was imported from elsewhere.

The gate we approached was guarded by two men in plain brown clothes, each holding a spear by their side. They straightened at our approach, then looked somewhat taken aback when they examined Alex and I.

“Greetings,” I said. “Do you fine gentlemen perhaps know the location of the local bookstore?”

One of them lowered his spear at me. “G-go tell the elder!” he said.

“This is all quite unnecessary,” I said. I had the impression that my words were not being received.

The younger guard dropped his weapon and scampered off in a hurry while the elder of the two lunged at me with his spear.

Alex, being a dutiful butler, caught the weapon by the haft and stopped it, and the guard, mid-lunge. “Thank you Alex. Could you please set the fine gentleman aside for now? I suspect there will be no negotiating our entry peacefully otherwise.”

“Okay,” Alex said. He cleared his throat and regarded the guard. “We are terribly sorry to intrude, good sir, but Bone Papa Harold and I need to enter your fine city for matters of business.” Alex grabbed the man by the breastplate, lifted him up, and set him next to the road. “Please don’t interfere.”

I nodded at the job well done and stepped past. At last, I was within the city proper.

Now, to find a proper disguise to avoid further complications, and to find a reliable source of knowledge, if there was one to be found.

I was beginning to have doubts.

***