Chapter Eight - A Failure of Guest Rights

“Do you know what I miss the most about the old world?

“The observation skill. It used to be that nearly everyone had it, and while your level wasn’t the most important thing about you, it did engender a certain amount of caution. A low levelled person likely needed protection, a high level one deserved some amount of respect.

“Nice and simple.”

***

I would like to think that I’m no fool. My high Int stat suggested as much, but that couldn’t be relied upon as a be-all end-all for deciding how smart someone actually was.

No matter how intelligent you are, you can be defeated by someone more observant, more patient, or perhaps someone who is simply more ruthless than you are.

It’s why taking things slowly and carefully, more often than not, is the best way to do things. It’s why I took my time as I climbed to the top of the hill where the gate of the compound waited.

“Observe.”

A Follower of the Toad Sage, Poisoner, Level 41

A Snake’s Fang, Assassin, Level 39

The two young men by the gate seemed rather cautious as we approached. Not fearful, but also not nearly as arrogant as the young men Alex and I had met so far. Their classes, Poisoner and Assassin respectively hinted at a singular purpose and fighting style.

As for their level, it was rather low. Perhaps they chose lower-ranked but mature individuals as gate guards, or maybe the importance of the job had been impressed upon otherwise normal young men.

“Greetings,” I said as I had my illusuary face smile kindly upon the men. “My name is Harold. I’m a travelling researcher. I was hoping I could speak to the sect’s librarian, or barring that, your head of research.”

The Assassin stepped forward and gave Alex and myself a shallow bow. “Honoured guest, do you have an invitation to enter the Four Venoms Sect?”

“I’m afraid not,” I said. “I’m merely here to study the local magics. If it helps any, I can afford to pay your group for the trouble.” I fished out a smaller gold bar from my pocket, on account that gold was worthless to me, especially when compared to knowledge.

For some reason, this had the young man before me bristling with indignity. “You think you can merely buy the secrets of the Four Venoms sect?”

“If I didn’t at least suspect as much, I wouldn’t have made the offer,” I said.

“Who are you to insult the Four Venoms sect?” the Poisoner asked. It seemed as if his patience was running out. We had barely even begun talking.

“I believe I’ve covered this already. I’m Harold.” I gestured past them and to the gate. It was a decent doorway, made of some old wood and reinforced with steel studs, most engraved with serpents and wyrms.

They very obviously took their image seriously here.

“Who’s he?” the Assassin asked while pointing to Alex.

“That’s my butler, Alex.”

“Hello, I’m Alex.”

“Why does he have those ears? Is he demon-blooded?” the Poisoner asked. He slid his hands into the sleeves of his coat. No doubt he was reaching for a weapon. This was all going rather poorly.

“More like he’s part leopard,” I said. “Now, is there a procedure for entering the sect? If I can’t merely pay my way in there must be some way to enter?”

“You are too old to join,” the Assassin said.

“I’m not looking to join,” I said. “I’m looking for knowledge.”

The two guards looked to each other and seemed to communicate something between themselves with a few twitches and shrugs. “I will get a senior disciple,” the Poisoner said. He bowed once more, even more shallowly, if that meant anything, then raced back into the compound by way of a small door next to the main gate.

“Well, hopefully that will resolve things,” I said. “I’ve never been fond of the ‘get the manager’ approach, but if it works it works.”

It took surprisingly little time for the Poisoner to return, now accompanied by a slightly older man, though he could hardly be past his mid-twenties. “Who are you to interrupt my afternoon meal and meditation?” he asked.

I had my illusion’s eyebrows rise up. “I’m Harold. Do forgive the disturbance. I’m merely here to visit your sect’s library.”

The senior disciple stood taller and stuck his nose into the air. “Why are you not bowing in apology?” he asked.

I had to take a moment to parse that. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You peasant, you have interrupted my meal for some menial reason, why are you not kneeling for forgiveness?”

Just to be entirely certain, I looked down upon myself, inspecting my clothes and making sure my illusion was still in place. I still looked like a middle-aged gentleman, not a twelve year old. “It seems that there is some misunderstanding here,” I said. “I merely want to visit your library.”

The man swung an open palm at me.

I had plenty of time to consider what to do as the slap came for my face.

I could have ended his life for the temerity of it. In fact, that was growing to be a rather favourable option. On the other hand, killing someone was unlikely to get me to see their library peacefully.

Alex caught the man’s wrist mid-swing and held it in place in an iron grip. “Please, do not hit Papa Bones. It would be very rude.”

“Thank you, Alex,” I said while the senior disciple struggled to free himself. “Now, as I was saying. I am ready to offer you and your sect some financial remuneration in exchange for the right to peruse your library. I won’t even take any of your texts out of the room, if that’s what you wish.” I’d instead use a spell to copy them for later reading. “I’m hardly without means, and I don’t want any ill will between us. Don’t make this more complicated than it needs to be.”

I gestured, and Alex let go of the man’s hand. “You... you! I will tell the upper disciples of this! You will regret it!”

I watched the man scurry off back into the compound, then turned to the two gate guards. “Are all of the senior disciples that ignorant?”

They didn’t quite seem to know what to do, so I sighed and gestured to their gate. “I’m going to enter the compound now,” I said.

“Guests must enter from the main gate only,” the Assassin said.

I had my illusion roll its eyes.

Traditions. Disgusting wastes of time and energy.

The gate was obviously reinforced with a few enchantments. Some utilitarian, to prevent rust and decay, others to make it stronger or resistant to magical tampering. It wasn’t the most impressive work I’d seen, but it was decent in an amateurish way.

The walls around the gate were completely plain. It was such a foolish mistake to make that I found myself shaking my head in disappointment.

“Enlarge.”

The walls surrounding the gate expanded a few necromillimeters in every direction, tearing apart the gate’s hinges as they remained the same size.

The entire gate thumped to the ground, then slowly, gently, tipped back to crash into the ground with a great gust of displaced air and a ground-shaking thud.

I stepped past the two gate guards who seemed somewhat uncertain as to what to do now that they had no gate to guard, and moved into the open courtyard that made up the centre of the compound.

It seemed as though the area was laid out in a rough square, with taller buildings on every corner, long, low structures along the vertices, and the far end of the compound was home to the largest building I had yet seen in the region, a four story tower with tiled roofs that stood tall and proud over the others.

Small rock gardens decorated the sides, and I noted some pads for people to kneel upon while meditating.

A large gathering of young people, both male and female, were standing off to one side in light clothes covered in sweat while an instructor was paused in the act of teaching them something. His lesson seemed to have been cut short by my entrance.

I was genuinely surprised by the number of people in the sect. I had expected a few dozen at most, but there were easily a hundred out and about, and no doubt more working within the various buildings.

“Do forgive me,” I said, pitching my voice so as to be heard. “I would like to speak with your leader, if I may.”

“Him!” the senior disciple said as he pointed quite rudely at me. He was with a gathering of other older members of the sect, all around his own age save for one who seemed quite a bit older.

I hadn’t noticed at first, but now that there were more sect members around, it was hard to miss the fact that they had a visible system of ranks. The lowest seemed to be very young, all dressed in clean but unembellished clothes, many with shawls around their shoulders.

Above them were the--I presumed--junior disciples. These had the familiar jackets with long sleeves and high collars. There was little variation in their manner of dress.

The senior disciples wore similar clothes, but often with faint enchantments woven in, and with more gilding and decorations. Also, they seemed to have more variations in their dress. From slightly different cuts, to unique weapons by their hips or on their backs.

And finally the instructors and what I presumed to be the equivalent of leaders and professors. These wore longer, fuller robes, split to allow for movement and with hoods that cast their heads in deep shadow.

Browns and blacks seemed to be the colour of choice, perhaps because of a lack of materials, or maybe because they wished to better hide in the local wilderness.

I was beginning to suspect that this sect was rather militarized in nature, more so than religious.

The older man that the seniors were gathered around stepped up and took position in the middle of the courtyard. “Kneel, and press your head to the ground. We will make your death painless if you do so. You will die with dignity, and at the hand of one of my more peaceful concoctions.”

I shook my head. “Do forgive me about the door. I can repair it in but a moment. I... may have acted rashly there.”

“I did not ask you for excuses. I asked you if you wished to die easily,” the man said.

“I truly doubt any of you could manage to kill me, so please do away with the threats, I’m just here to--”

“Seniors. This fool does not respect the Four Venoms sect!” he said. “Show him pain.”

“Sir Papa Bone Harold?” Alex asked. “Should I escort them out of the mortal coil?”

I sighed. “Only if they are so rude as to assault us, Alex.”

Five senior disciples moved up, including the rude one we had met outside. I could guess what would happen next. It was rather disappointing to see otherwise talented young men commit themselves to actions like these without thought.

The entire sect seemed to think that this was some sort of show. The younger members eagerly whispered among themselves and some juniors poked their heads out of windows.

The five arrayed before me puffed up, and one by one they called out their names and titles.

I was thousands of years old, and had literally marched armies of the undead into battles against war gods, and even I didn’t have titles as silly as these young men.

The Most Venomous Striking Fang of the Serpent and He Who Erodes the Darkness with Virility were the ones that stuck out to me the most. I suspected that they were given such ridiculous titles as a means of instilling some humility in them. It might have failed.

“Are you quite done?” I asked.

And then they decided to make the last mistake they would commit while still alive. They attacked.