Perspectives

Hunting rats in the sewers was not easy work. The things were quick and didn’t have a lot of meat on them, but as a mother beastman, I have a personal honor to uphold. My family rarely went hungry, and for a thick blanket for my children or a stipend of vegetables and fruit, I was more than willing to trade some of the little meat I could get.

My son’s teeth are bleeding horribly, and the cut he got a week ago from climbing in the rocky highland had opened up and it just wouldn’t heal. I’d heard about this curse before, it had affected my kind when they were hunters and only ate what they could catch.

It is called the curse of blood to my people, an ailment inflicted upon you when your gluttony knows only slaughter. For my son to get it due to my own hunting … I don’t think I have slept more than three hours in the last week.

My husband does his best to find jobs he can do. As a swine beastman, he had plenty of strength and would be hired quickly, even by the humans inside of the walls. Too bad the last piece of construction work he was asked to help on was over three months ago.

Truly, our neighbors called us ‘The Barons of Dekker street’. Dekker, being the name of the first inhabitant of this part of town; it was named after him. If I remember right, Dekker was eventually executed for stealing a loaf of bread from a nobleman…

And then I woke up.

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7’th month, Day 12.

3 days after the talk with Napoleon.

It was slow-going for the next few days. Charlemagne had been brought to us. After explaining his own powers and the references that the other priests and nobles gave, it was clear he was definitely in the top 10 healers of the city. Blood and guts, the reagents of healing magic… not too far away from what mom did in certain cases.

The Magic of this world, when used by non-magic races, uses something called ‘reagents,’ that evaporate in the castor's hand to cast spells. The reagent for healing magic is blood, simple enough.

By sacrificing a game animal or magic animal’s organ, Charlemagne could even heal the similar organs in other beings, unless completely shredded, he could fix nearly anything. He carried a small collection of organs, pickled in jars in his backpack, as well as a few bones and a couple of enchanted canteens of purified blood.

Animals were categorized into three different kingdoms in this world. You had the game animals, animals that the beastmen had relation to, while beastmen could eat game without it being taboo, eating an animal too close to themselves might be viewed as cannibalism.

The magical animals, beasts who’d used magic to get around or stored it in their body, could innately use magic easily. Finally, there is livestock, while no, this does not mean all the animals on the list are trained or normally on farms. These are the animals that beastmen just don’t have any relation to, the name livestock in my ears is probably them just saying the equivalent of ‘food animal.’

It didn’t long to pick him for our party. As for Grimalkin, the beastman servant I had whom Napoleon had told was ready to kill me…. He was an exceptional dagger and bow user. His being a beastman gave him more mobility, especially in trees. Some sort of mountain cat, meaning that his balance and mobility in rough terrain were not to be underestimated. He even knows small spells for distracting opponents or buffing his arrows.

Myself with Pain Vampire and the weapon I will be receiving in now only four days, I will fill the role of a tactical frontline fighter. The rest of my abilities, however, were harder to pin down. My body was fit in this world, exceptionally so. Apparently, when they summon you as a legendary hero, they give you a legendary body.

Master Napoleon, who had been training us like recruits for the last few days, could not have been happier. His abilities as ‘Frontline General’ and ‘Battlefield Promotion’, could enhance the physical powers of those in a small group, kind of like a strike unit. Meanwhile, Battlefield Promotion had a secondary effect. The more heated the battle became, the more strength we would receive. This, in Layman’s terms, meant he could work us to the bone with his training. The three of us were exhausted.

“Master Napoleon, do I really need a weapon, too? I’m a certified combat medic, I don’t need to fight if I can keep my allies healthy”, Charlemagne whined. Grasping the rapier Napoleon had handed him, he was actually pretty good at it. It’s just that his soft, plushie form was resisting the overwork, we all were.

“And what if they get captured and only you can rescue them? You need to be battle ready as well! That needle-sword thing I gave you is light enough that it shouldn’t impact that massive pack you have on your back,” Napoleon sent his sword downward so quick, every trace of blood was cleared from it. Yes, blood, you see to keep practice with Charlemagne's healing and spellcasting, he was gleefully giving us niks in training to be healed by the disgruntled priest.

Grimalkin landed deftly, the only one out of the three of us able to really keep up with the balding white haired man. “Quit your bellyaching, he’s taking it easy on you, ya know that?”

Charlemagne’s face went to a simmering rage, a smile crossing his lips, his normally cute form got an icy aura around it. “What did you say to me, soulless?”

There’s that anger again, it turns out many of the humans in this world were quite biased, to the point of racism. Charlemagne, the normally adorable muffin-lizard, had quite the nasty side to show any of the other races.

You see, the teaching of the church dating back to the founding of this kingdom was that races, other than humans, did not have the same soul that humans did. I’d tried to keep them separate but Grimalkin insisted that he stay, saying it would keep him sharp.

Charlemagne put everything into his rapier as he charged, giving jab after jab. Grimalkin with a leather-gloved hand, smacked the sides of the rapier during each one, sending vibrations up it hitting his arms. Charlemagne dropped his rapier after not too many of those, the vibrations making it too hard to hold onto the handle.

Napoleon looked down at Charlemagne, lifting his chin up as the beaten priests’ knees had buckled from the shock of being so deftly beaten by what he considered his inferior. Telling Charles, “that is why you need practice. Free yourself of your prejudices or die on the battlefield.”

The small priest then put his hood over his head, resembling a plush lizard again, he left the training hall in shame to contemplate.

Napoleon was having me train with a very basic three section staff while the blacksmith worked on our combined creation. Using no knowledge I had gathered from my own world, I drew from fantasy when designing my weapon …. A spear, a staff and so much more; charged with elemental magic, tipped a blade that can come out of one end that can channel the thunder magic further.

Napoleon struck me hard as I was daydreaming, slamming me into one of the walls in the barracks training room. I coughed and blood dribbled out of my mouth as dust cleared from the small crater I had been forced to create.

“Suck it up; I know that isn’t enough to make a Paladin collapse.” Napoleon mocked.

It was true; it really did feel like nothing. I know it happened but it just felt like a minor inconvenience due to my skill ‘Pain Nullification’.

I look at Grimalkin and Napoleon, both casually waiting for me to stroll back to the center of the room so an old man could give me a whoopin’. He cleaned up well. It seems I’d inherited the armor from him so he was wearing an exceptionally gallant armor set with massive pauldrons.

Grimalkin wore the armor he always did, apparently having multiple sets of the same kind from his employ under Leere. The Blacksmith, working on my weapon, was also working on some new armor for grimalkin, using one of the spare armor plates from the Dread Emperor and some leather patches to make something akin to a more traditional suit from early 1900’s America. Napoleon had a field day imaging an armored suit.

Walking slowly, I let out an exhausted sigh. Then I sent my pole flying forward, holding on to the last end, using the first two rods as a mid-range attack. My poke gets deflected by Napoleon. But I’d planned on it, my other hand coming for the displaced end, wrapping the three poles around my back; I spin around, sending it back at him again.

This kind of fighting continued on for another half an hour as Grimalkin watched us. I got was a bit shaky at first but I was learning quickly, eliminating needless steps and excess torque. Eventually, if my initial feint was enough to make the man blink, I could actually score a hit on his back with my follow-up.

In a short amount of time the three of us had begun to function as a team if I can keep those two from getting too close.

After the training I decided to track down Charlemagne in his room, crying his eyes out… Upon seeing this, I turn around and walk the other direction. All things considered, this looked like a ploy.

Vansen has also played an inordinate amount of visits after Charlemagne was brought here. What’s more, he had been brought without my request, simply shooing away my concern by mentioning the scripture. Combined with the information I had gotten from Napoleon about the last Holy Paladin not overseeing the founding of the new country, I was beginning to doubt the purpose of my summoning.

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I looked down at the silvers in my hands, a full thousand, roughly the same as ten gold pieces. This was enough to outfit an entire legion in some of the best gear that soldiers could buy. This was the money that the Lord-Governor had given me to prepare for my quest to reclaim the town of Thebes beset by Mountain-Crasher Darrell.

One thousand was just way too much. Sure, buying reagents and equipment was needed. But many of those things were already taken care of. My own weapon coming in a mere four days, cutting it close to the time we are to leave. Thinking back to what Napoleon said, I can’t help but think about the dream I had one night ago, as a beastman woman.

I count out one hundred silver, tossing it in a bag to Napoleon, him just snatching it out of thin air like I’d put it on a shelf. “Hey, while we see the applicants today, I want you to have Charlemagne go to the market in the central city and buy up every different kind of citrus fruit he can find. I could really go for some lemonade and even though we’re in another world, it’s not like many of them came naturally to our world either.”

Citrus trees, in particular oranges and a few others, were crossbreeds, for the most part, at least most of the popular citrus fruit were. Every time I close my eyes I saw myself as that woman, hunting in the sewers for rats, hoping to get enough that I might be able to trade them for a single fruit to a vendor… It was high time I learned if these dreams were memories from real people I had somehow ‘Vampired’ or what.

“Sure, he’s not a fan of being in the clay city so it should get him out of our hair for a while,” Napoleon, who similar to me, had just about had enough of Charlemagne's antics, was just happy to get him out of the barracks.

“Yeah, Vansen has to make such looooong trips to come out here a good, oh, four times a day, totally normal.” I laughed, Napoleon laughed, Grimalkin laughed, it was a good time. Grimalkin laughed? Yes, my faithful, ready to stab me in a drunken haze servant had just walked through the door.

“He reminds me of the jade walls a lot, mysterious, overly green, and kind of pure in a way. Still; getting rid of him while we pick a person we’re willing to fight alongside seems like a good idea.” Grimalkin sat at the table beside the two of us in the summoning chamber. The multiple round glowing lights behind us, the door to the chamber in front, the rounded rectangle of the room gave these try-outs an air of importance.

Charlemagne soon shows up, ready to take the fourth seat when Napoleon looks at him with the biggest smile. “Young apprentice, I know that you find it hard dealing with the action, why don’t you let us handle the try outs. The Paladin has requested a reminder of home; would you go on a quest for citrus fruits in the main market for us?”

Charlemagne stood at attention and saluted… with the wrong hand. Eager for the chance to get out of here and into the walled city. Considering the Lord-Governor’s response to anything ‘Legendary Quest’-y this comes across like fulfilling a childhood wish… I would feel bad for him if he wasn’t a giant pain in my rear, you really can’t blame him for his indoctrination and lack of cleverness.

He saluted again once he figured out why Grimalkin was giggling in the corner, a blush crossing his face. Still, he hit his head so hard with his hand that his hood flopped over, as he struggled to lift it back up it looked like yet again he was escaping being eaten by some sort of plush serpent.

With him rushing off on his own little quest, I rang the handbell signaling the beginning of the trials.

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The Scripture of Charlemagne V, Scribe and Priest of the Green Church.

Month 7, Day 12, in the Year of our country 427.

1.) The Paladin has given me my first true order. The scriptures have prepared me for this moment; in order to support our hero to the best of our ability, sometimes a reminder of home can be necessary.

2.) The Paladin had sent me, with a sack full of one hundred silver, to the grand market inside of the jade walls. I have been told that the Paladin misses his home, so to give him a reminder; I was to buy all of the citrus fruit I could.

3.) Vansen, however had other plans. The Speaker of the Deity met me in the market, having heard of my visit back to the walled city. We spoke at length about the trial process, having admitted my blunder of losing my cool at Grimalkin; I was given an odd piece of advice by my old mentor.

4.) Vansen said that no matter my own feelings, or the churches, that I should judge people of their own merit. That the scripture had many tellings of soulless teaming up with the Paladin to defeat great evils as well as many Demon Lords. Informing me that it was I that was making the rest of my party uncomfortable, he laid his only hand tenderly on my shoulder and then left.

5.) If the Speaker says it, then clearly it must be true… With that realization; the Paladin’s reactions to how I talked to Grimalkin filled my memory. It was true, every time I directed my emotions toward him, Master Napoleon and Sir Paladin would scold me. They were the Paladins, I was a mere priest, and who was I to go against them?

6.) And so, on my own, for the next few hours I wondered the Jade Market, buying up all of the citrus fruit I could find. Soon, I had a small wagon sent over from one of the guard posts to use for hauling.

7.) Even with that full wagon, with over thirty different kinds of fruit, I still had a full seventy silver after, and decided to treat myself. Buying a vem skewer from a local vendor, I glutinously devoured it before leaving.

8.) I pulled the donkey driven wagon back to the Barracks. It was a long walk, and many of the kobolds and beastmen look at me with hungry eyes when I walked past them. Yet none of them come close, rubbing their bellies as if freshly stuffed.

9.) I made it safely back to the barracks, cargo in tow, just as dusk was beginning to hit the city.

10.) The Paladin came out to greet me, telling me how the trials had gone, and informing me they had picked our fourth while I was gone… Truthfully I was not surprised; after Vansen’s words clarity had hit me. In the priesthood where it was only humans and a few kobolds I could get away with this attitude.

11.) The Paladin took a look at the wagon and smiled, assuming I had spent all of the silver given to me. When I returned a nearly full coin-pouch it turned into a frown. At first, I thought I had displeased the Paladin, but after further prodding he had informed me that I had not.

12.) Looking into the distance, the Paladin spoke to me plainly. “If you could fill this wagon so full, and buy out all the vendors in the main market of their fruit for only thirty silver… then how poor must one be to starve”?

13.) As he said that, there was an emptiness in his eyes, a cold loneliness as he took the reins from my hand.

14.) We walked in silence, only the Paladin and I for what felt to be a long time, nearing an eternity. There was so much I wanted to say, and so much to ask. If Vansen shared some of the views of this hero, then surely he could teach me the true teachings of the Deity.

15.) The Paladin had pulled the cart into an intersection; nothing was here save a few destroyed houses. Vansen had told us of the storms that come in the rainy season, and how those outside the walls don’t defend themselves properly so their homes get destroyed.

16.) That is when everything changed. The Paladin, without holding back, had cupped his hands around his lips and was yelling at the top of his lungs for the denizens to come out.

17.) At first, only adults checking what the noise was, or curious children were visible to me. A woman, strong and confident comes up to the Paladin, asking him why he has come.

18.) With a pained look in his eye he smiled at her, but not one of joy… truly a smile has never been as sad as the one he shared with this wolf-type beastman. After a pause, he said that the doctors in his own world could not cure his curse, he could not stand idly by as curses that were removable ran rampant around him.

19.) He looked at me, that same smile in his face; it is seared into my memory for the rest of my existence.

20.) “This is your punishment,” he said, looking at the wagon. “You are to feed these people, care for these people, the ones you refer to as soulless,” after he said the word he spat.

21.) “As long as we remain in this city, you shall use the money I have given you to care after the people in this block of the city. I’ve chosen to keep you in the party purely from Grimalkin’s own request.”

22.) Then, with a fire in his eyes that I had never seen before, “If I am not satisfied by the time we leave, then I will go without you. Napoleon has plenty of books on healing magic, I’m sure I can learn the basics on the road.”

23.) And there it was. My hero, the one I had been looking forward to meeting so much. Informing me that as I am, I am not fit to stand at his side.

24.) Before he left me to distribute the food on my own, he gave me one more gift. “See yourself in others, and no one else will be able to tell you who to be.”

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The Holy Scripture of Speaker Amadeus Vansen

Month 07 Day 12 Holy Year of Supremacy 427

Transcribed by Delpheous IV, Edited by Amadeus Vansen for accuracy.

Vansen sipped his juice slowly from his goblet, reclined in a large plush chair with his feet propped up on some old tomes. Massive paintings with frames of gold and jade lined the walls of the ancient room, filled with wonders lost to history. “Charlemagne was too easy, even if the priest went rogue eventually, he really was of no consequence,” he said to no one in the room, empty and dark. The Speaker was alone in his private study.

Glad he needn’t travel past the gate, the Speaker of the Deity was pleased he had ran into the mole he had planted in a place guaranteed not to have any prying eyes. Charlemagne would report back to him during this excursion to Thebes, keeping him informed of how long the Paladin and his troupe would be staying in the city dealing with ‘Darrell.’

Even Lord-Governor Leere was all wrapped up around the Paladin, the old legends spurring their sense of romance and adventure. “What easily swayed fools,” Vansen grew up on the old legends, nothing was hokier. When the young Speaker was old enough, he first met the Paladin Napoleon the swift. Only to see a broken old man, regretting his greatest achievement.

“What a letdown Paladins were,” Vansen had expected a grand hero, with a massive sword and hair flowing in the wind. Not these unusable warriors with bleeding hearts. Still, informing one of his own priests to stray from the church's teaching on the soulless, if that was found out by the Cardinals he would be deposed for such blasphemy. Human supremacy was the writ of the scripture, and to even talk about considering an alternative would mean a peasants head.