Freki.
20th of Trescia, 1492.
Protectorate of Bakewia, Eldereach County. Shavew.
4:24 PM.
***
After the Cuttleship, I assumed nothing could surprise me. I was wrong. Shavew was a land of the arcane.
Streets existed not on the ground but dwelled in the skies. Not were they made of stone, for they were composed of water. On the ground were wide avenues for walkers only, lined to the horizon with food serving stalls or vendors selling various goods. Magical goods, almost exclusively.
I had been walking since my arrival in this place. We all have been, I assumed, since we left the Cuttleship with word to be back by sundown for whatever Amun had in store for us. While the sights were a pleasant way to pass the time, hours passed before I found what I was looking for.
A tavern.
How I've always wished to go to one. To eat and drink and be merry like the common man. That was true for both halves of my being. And so, I waltzed proudly through the door of the first tavern I saw.
It was a grand place of stone and wood. Not the massive tents or cold castle I was accustomed to. A great hearth spread from the center of the room to the far wall, guarded by iron rails to both protect the drunk patrons from themselves and to absorb and bleed heat out into the room.
Every table surrounding it seemed to be filled with every type of person born from the stories. The weary workers, seeking a hot meal and some ale after a day's work. The eager adventurers, looking for requests or sharing stories. The shady rogues and rangers, brooding in the corner. Even a few bards trying to bed everyone they laid eyes on.
I even spotted a ring as I made my way to an empty table but thought not of entering. Instead, I distanced myself even further and lifted my sight to the private booths and tables above, but elected to sit at a table that allowed me to watch the proceedings still.
It took a while to learn the customs of the place through observation, but I learned to tap a crystal embedded into my table and found a seasoned barmaid trotting up to me moments later, requesting a gold coin in exchange for the finest meal on the menu. A roast with seasoned vegetables and as much ale as one could drink.
I placed two coins in her hand, asking for information or advice on hiring farmhands in exchange for the second piece.
"The lone farmhouse at the southwestern end of town, son." The dwarven woman said after a moment of wide-eyed shock. "A boy by the name of Amos Towns is who yer lookin' fer. Or rather, he's been lookin' for ye. Poor boy never wanted to be a farmer and his pa kicked the wheel a few years back. Has a heart of gold, he does. Wants to sell his pa's business inta good hands an' make sure his workers is looked out fer. But no one in these parts wants a farm."
"Not until today." I nodded with a toothless smile. "A farming business is what I am looking to purchase. Naturally, I would need workers for that endeavor and am willing to pay top gold for their work."
"Aye." She nodded without delay. "Word 'round these parts is some type a' creature was grantin' wishes. He was one of 'em. Been spoutin' about how someone would come an' see him a few days now. By that an' the mark on yer chest, I say you won't be needin' negotiating. Now, is that all fer ya?"
"Yes." I bowed my head. "Thank you."
She hummed softly and turned on her heels to make a mad dash to another table. She probably forgot the conversation the moment she left, but I would remember her kindness and willingness to help for years to come.
With her gone, however, I turned my attention to my meal and found it… palatable. If unsavory. The ale, on the other hand, would simply not do.
Casting aside any notion of taste, I wolfed down my meal and split my attention between the distant fight and the lights in my vision- this… augmented reality. It took some time to get used to it, but I grew accustomed to filtering between the 'Tabs' and 'Apps' without much conscious effort.
It was the second group of tools that I mentally commanded to open. Specifically, the app titled 'GetHelp.' A simplistic name with a revolutionary purpose. Using my mind's voice, I commanded. 'Create objective. Dubbed: Operation False Shepherd.'
The device responded immediately, forming into a blank sheet of parchment that floated before my eyes like a spell tome seen only by me.
'Meat. Dairy. Ale. Herbs and Spices. Cereals. Fruits. Vegetables.' The words wrote themselves on the parchment as I thought the commands. But when there were no more commands to give, the application recognized my intent and changed the words on its own accord.
Suddenly blips and banners appeared to notify me of the changes to my 'Lessons' tab regarding educational courses centered on concepts like commercial agriculture and agribusiness. Meanwhile, the False Shepherds I declared I needed were reorganized into a list of ten professionals meant to oversee a different industry, each with subordinates specialized in a different crop.
Casting it all aside for the time being, I tagged the location on my map and followed the glowing trail it spawned while I studied the tasks and objectives I'd need to complete to bring my plan to greatness. And once that was done, I came upon a realization.
I had a severe disdain for large cities. Especially ones with such weird magic. Exiting the gates felt like the world was lifted from my shoulders. And in a way, it had. No longer was I gawked at by the never-thinning crowd. But here, among the hills of swaying grains, I felt free enough to almost sprint to the farmhouse near the woodline.
I received many stares here as well. But curiosity, intrigue, and, much to my amusement, hope fueled their gazes rather than awe or fear. It took not long after that for the one in question to approach me. Amos was perhaps around eighteen. A head or three shorter than I but stacked with the muscle that came from working the fields for years.
Not wanting to unsettle him, I made myself as placating as possible and spoke loud enough for the eavesdroppers to hear clearly. "My name is Freki. I have come because I was told you have hopes to sell this farm. Assuming, at least, you are Amos?"
Blue eyes widened as he caught sight of my teeth. He quickly looked around to the onlookers and turned back with a look of confusion. "Y- yeah. I'm Amos but… who sent you?"
"I was sent by no one. A woman at the tavern pointed me here after I made my purpose known. If you were expecting someone else, I did not mean to offend." I said low, bowing.
"N- no. It's fine." He stammered, stepping forward but shaking his head once more. "Whatever. You wanna buy the farm?"
"In truth, it is not the farm I seek. But the farmers. Purchasing men is something my morals allow not for, you see. So I will purchase your farm on the condition that those who work on it continue to do so."
My words seemed to ease him, as he stepped back to look me over. "You work for Amun, right? You wear his mark."
"You know of him?" I smiled.
"Of course I know of him!" Amos spat in disbelief. "Everyone in Bakewia knows of him and Sir Edward! I mean, come on!"
I had to shrug in defeat upon following his finger to the floating domiciles littering the sky. And it was then that I noticed a new ribbon of light floating in my vision. "Yes, I work for him." I smiled gratuitously.
"Name your price." He said sternly and with a face of stone.
I did my best to mirror it. "I offer you one hundred thousand gold for your farm and its workers. They will be lodged, protected, and employed with a salary of two thousand six hundred gold per year and bonuses in the form of magical items and travel."
Any man would have recoiled upon hearing such a number. But Amos held firm for several long seconds until his face broke up into a smile. "You got any room for an artist?"
"I do not." I shook my head and nearly laughed at the color draining from his face. "However," I said, inflating his hopes once more. "Amun has expressed interest in hiring an artist as a vassal, if not a Legionary. If you would come with me, you can ask him yourself."
***
Geri.
Shavew Outlands.
6:02 PM.
***
While the floating rivers, bustling alleys, and populous streets were impressive, there was nothing more soothing than the quiet peace of the wilds. That said, I managed to fulfill one of my lifelong dreams by going shopping in a magical town.
Never before had I the chance to spend money, let alone own money, so I spent hundreds of gold at restaurants and booths throughout the city before I scaled the walls and spent more on the shop within NoxNet.
Even more profitable was the knowledge gained in the process. Knowledge of my innate weaknesses. The first came when I purchased a small trinket and received the difference in silver coins. The burns they left in my palm couldn't have come from any fire. It was like my soul screamed out in pain. But my only reaction was to drop the coins and play it off as if I wanted the merchant to keep it.
After I moved beyond the walls, I received another hard lesson. A mere glance at cattle brought on a state of bloodlust that demanded I wrestle it to submission, for it was not just aimed at the cattle, but the people as well.
I succeeded only by fleeing further into the woods, wherein I despaired at the prospect of my brother falling victim to his bloodlust upon remembering our conversation days ago.
In being distracted, I was ambushed by a bear and subsequently came upon my third lesson.
Enraged and hungry, I allowed the primal urges to consume me and sought to temper them far too late, resulting in my eye and the eye of the beast remaining open in tandem.
In the form of a half-beast, I slayed the bear and sated my hunger. And upon storing the remnants, I sought to lull the human side of me to sleep and returned to the den as a wolf, trailed by others of my kind.
Amun showed a beaming smile at the wolves, direwolves, and wild dogs trailing behind me while I curled up at his feet to listen to Freki growl at Amun while he gestured at the dozens of humans crowded behind him in awed fear.
"I intend to have them oversee my world," Freki said, then squinted in hesitation. "I remember having one above."
"Eotrom is for vacations, refits, and the afterlife, Freki," Amun said calmly. "Only those who moved there when it was created can remain there. It had to be populated somehow, after all."
"So then…"
"They can create agricultural worlds when we go to Eotrom to train. They will work on those worlds from the Mortal Plane, however. Those you kill or those allied to you who die will be reincarnated on those worlds as residents. But your crops will be tended to by machines and undead. Sometimes both. They, on the other hand, will dwell on the Cuttleship with us."
"They are managers then," Freki concluded with a childish nod. "That is their job while they join me as companions?"
"If they wish to join the Legions, yes, they will be your companions. If not, they'll be like vassals, remaining on the Cuttleship, providing you with food and ale in exchange for land, safety, and freedom. Like Amos to me." Amun smiled at a well-built human standing off to the side, then looked back to Freki. "Are you going to pass on your gift to them?"
Freki's brows furrowed. "How do I do that?"
"A bite infused with your power."
Our faces, mine, Freki's, and those who came with him, paled and widened in fear. The implications of that shocked me to my core and at that instant, I resolved to only kill people with my claws.
"I would recommend telling them all there is to know first," Amun suggested with a curious face.
Freki only looked to him pleadingly.
Amun sighed in frustration. "He can transform into a wolf or a wolf-man with the power of summer and autumn. And, through means of a single bite, he can pass that power unto you. Not the celestial part, but the wolf with seasonal powers part."
Laughing inside, I transformed into my half-form and couldn't contain it when they fell on their asses, gasping. Freki included. Then completed the transformation to human form before they could get too unsettled, giving them a friendly wave before I leaned against the throne wall. "I'm Geri. Winter Wolf. And Spring, I guess."
"W- um… God, Sir, w- will we be able to come back?" One of Freki's asked. "Here, I mean. After we're… changed."
"Of course." Amun snorted. "But there will come a time when we leave for good. If you're worried about leaving your families behind, they can come too."
That seemed to seal the deal for the lot of them- 52 of them. One by one, they bared their right shoulder to declare fealty to Freki and winced as he bit them hard enough to draw blood, leaving a scorched bite mark that seemed to mimic the open maw of his pauldron. A maw, I just realized, that had been stuffed with an orb of contained fire.
"Now, with that done, you all gather your things and return here. And don't dally. Your first transformation is tonight." Amun ordered the group before we were led towards a pile of collapsed stone.
It formed into a doorway as he approached, creating a portal that led to a large hut of wood and stone. Inside, was some kind of workshop or laboratory that we passed through to enter a private office, wherein Amun activated an enchantment to spill the room with light that formed and morphed into solid shapes.
"This is the first city I helped." Amun nodded towards that strangely shaped mountain. "They have since allied to me and I've since been working to make it the capital of magic, science, and industry."
"Maru?" Freki asked, and the word spawned memories of death. The sweet taste of bandit blood. A vibrant forest. A towering mountain. A dead tree.
"Silas!"
I recoiled into my frame as quickly as the shout left my mouth. Everyone was staring at me, bemused, amused, or anything in between. Except Amun.
"Yes!" He nodded proudly. "I have a meeting with him. You all are to listen."
With a flick, another device activated. This time, it showed a slim man with a prominent widow's peak standing next to a scholastic brute in fine armor with some two dozen arranged behind them.
"Silas, Rodin, honored members of the Council." Amun bowed in a greeting. "I introduce you to Iris Cole, Blude, Sam, Redd, Etan Za'Darmondiel, Geri, and Freki. A little more than half of companions."
"Well met." The slim man- Silas bowed in turn while the brute… Rodin gave a nod while focusing hard on Etan. "I speak for all of us when I state how amazed I am with these devices. Although the learning curve was quite high, we have all adapted. They have improved life on all counts. But…"
"Many of us are still struggling to adapt to the Rise." Rodin picked up for Silas. "And, our increasing real estate makes it difficult for the guard to keep up. We need an evolved force, Amun. Without one, I fear we cannot begin the ascent."
"Not to worry." Amun soothed him with a nod and a gesture to us. "My Troupe will be evolving in a tendays time. With that, the Legion's training facility shall be formed and by the midyear, the instructors will have been trained. Thus I propose your forces join the first class of Legionaries. Like them, you all will graduate as officers, with you as their commander, Rodin.
"As for the rise." Amun sighed an apology. "I cannot do much until my clerics and priestesses complete their tasks." But, he turned his emotions around with a charming smile. "I can see them coming close to completing them." Amun toppled to lean forward until his waist was parallel to the ground and extended his hands to face his palms upward. "I ask for a little more time."
"Please stop doing that." Silas groaned. "One as great as you should not bow to others so easily."
Amun countered with a soft smile. "Nor should I cast aside humility, for any reason."