Norman popped out of the teleporter near the ooraki village with Grobert and Noorani beside him. Eugene had elected to remain behind to defend the city if need be. Not that the other greykin likely needed defending. The gron were more than capable of defending themselves with just their basic strength which was nearly three times that of a normal human. And that was before you factored in any callings they might have.
As it turns out, the greykin retained all of their skills and memories when Norman resurrected them. He knew it worked that way when he converted living people but it wasn’t a certainty that it would work that same way on the dead.
This was all assuming their body was intact and their soul was willing, however. Norman shuddered at the memory of the failed attempts to force a soul to join with a damaged body. The gron scholar – whom Norman had repeatedly used his Glimpse from Beyond spell on – was one of Norman’s first attempts to resurrect the dead. He was one of the most knowledgeable people Norman had encountered so it made sense to utilize that knowledge.
It worked if you could consider a lobotomized greykin a success. Norman had been forced to kill the poor bastard a second time, which resulted in a vengeful spirit when he summoned the man’s ghost to explain what went wrong. Turns out the body state can transfer to the soul, or spirit before death. So when Norman summoned the spirit again, it was mindless and violent.
Norman didn’t fear for his own safety in that situation, as he had used the spell to make the undead ignore him. But the spirit had still caused quite a bit of damage to the summoning room before Norman was able to cancel the spell. It was damage that Grobert had to repair. The man had complained about the damage for weeks after the incident.
The teleporter platform the three of them used to get to the ooraki village was well hidden and nearly impossible to detect unless you knew what you were looking for. The reason for having it outside the city and not within the safe confines of a building was simple. The ooraki didn’t trust the technology. And having a random building in the middle of a field would be suspicious. Still, with this last attack, Norman might ask Grobert to build one for it anyway. It seemed like a bad idea to just leave it in the open since were no other safety procedures in place to prevent unwanted people from using the teleporter. A few guards on the other side would be a must as well.
That was a concern for later though, and hopefully never. Norman hoped this diplomatic meeting went well and they could resolve this misunderstanding in some amicable fashion.
Norman glanced over at the priestess, who looked a bit uncomfortable in her outfit. Norman suspected she had only donned the outfit in order to impress him. It certainly didn’t look like comfortable travel attire. He debated on whether or not to ask her if she wanted to change outfits since heading to their town would only delay them a few minutes, but he decided against it. It would be a good lesson for her.
He hitched up his pack and followed behind Noorani as she led the way. While Norman hoped for a positive outcome in these talks, he had come fully prepared for shit to go sideways. Religious zealots were never the most stable of people to deal with in the best of times. Hopefully, he could mollify them with some concession. If it meant closed borders or something else Norman could live with, so be it, at least then there wouldn’t be any more attacks. He wanted to say unprovoked attacks, but after hearing Noorani’s accounting, he couldn’t quite be sure if that was true or not.
The group stopped at the border for the night, seeing as the deadlands were quite a bit more hospitable than the zone they were heading into. Norman smiled at the irony as he set up his tent. Afterward, he stared at the dusty red environment that awaited them in the morning. It reminded Norman of pictures from Arizona, only there were no mountains or canyons that he could see. Only a mostly flat plain of red and cracked rocks.
Occasional gusts of wind would kick up some dust, but overall, the area just looked lifeless. Kind of like Mars, Norman realized.
Norman had no idea how anyone survived in conditions like this, but he was curious to find out.
***
“Are we there, yet?” Norman groaned.
They had been walking for eight hours. Norman regretted his decision not to use those weird snake horses. But while the undead were immune to the venom, he was not. He envied them for that. Also with the fact that they seemed to be tireless and unaffected by the heat, unlike him, whose feet were pounding and who had to cover his skin to prevent being baked like a lobster.
“We should be there soon, Life Bringer.”
“Let's stop and rest, I can’t keep this pace up.” Norman didn’t wait for a reply as he plopped his tired body down on a flat rock that rose above the dusty ground just enough to make a decent seat.
He instantly regretted it. “Ahhh!” He shot up and rubbed his ass. The rock was so hot it burned him through his jeans.
He could even smell burnt fabric from the short encounter with the hot rock. He swore in annoyance.
This was one of the worst zones Norman had been to so far, not accounting for the gron people as a whole. The zone was easily a hundred and ten degrees and Norman had been forced to wrap his head in some white cloth to keep from sweating to death. It seemed relief was close at hand though as the group continued forward. The hard red rocks and dirt gave way to purplish-tinted grass and eventually trees. If you could call the scraggly-looking things, trees. But even those stunted things gave some shade.
“We can rest in the shade,” Noorani gestured to a fallen log. “The village we traded with straddles a wide river and the plant life means we are within an hour's walk of it.”
After a short rest, Noorani proved to be true to her word. The village appeared as the trio came around a shallow hill.
“That’s it?” Norman looked at the village, which was even smaller than the greykin village.
Noorani nodded. “The people of this land live rather meager existences. From what we gathered, they are broken up along this river in small communities and barely grow enough to feed themselves.”
“Ok, then why were you here trading?”
“While they don’t have much in the way of food, they do have an abundance of metals and other minerals. We trade them our excess food, and they trade us the metal, which we in turn use to make clothing and jewelry.”
“Clothing?” Norman asked with surprise.
Noorani gestured to her dress. Norman hadn’t put much thought into the item, figuring it was just some weird shiny fabric.
“You’re saying that dress is made from metal?”
“Not all of it, but there are gold and silver strands threaded through it.”
Gold and silver… She had a dress made with real gold and silver. The garment was probably worth more than anything Norman had ever owned.
“And the headdress?”
Noorani smiled, “I’m glad you noticed, Life Bringer. Yes, the feathers are coated with gold foil as well.”
“How have you managed all this?” Norman was flabbergasted at the workmanship.
“It is a simple thing for the ooraki artisans you brought back. While not ideal for a normal tribe, we don’t require as much food or other things. It gives the men time to create beautiful masterpieces instead of mucking about in the dirt.”
Norman couldn’t argue with that.
Grobert grunted, “Yeah, suppose the workmanship is decent. A bit ostentatious though.”
Noorani glared at the gron like he physically slapped her. “That’s because you gron have no sense for art. All you have are your bland buildings and meaningless lives.”
“Ok, let’s stop there,” Norman said, stepping between the two before they could get into a fight. “We’re here for diplomacy, let’s not forget that amongst ourselves as well.”
Grobert grinned past Norman and to the taller ooraki priestess. “Aye, diplomacy. The day isn’t getting any longer, shall we?” he gestured.
Norman shook his head and sighed. He knew Grobert would get the woman back eventually. The man may have been the gron President for two hundred years, but he was also a mischief maker. Norman didn’t worry about the gron attacking her. Instead, he would likely sneak in and take something that would cause her no end of annoyance when she least expected it.
With the small disagreement out of the way, the three approached the town. Norman could see people going about their business. All were wearing some sort of head scarves to keep the hot sun off their heads. Soon some of the people spotted their group, and Norman saw one go running. He really hoped they were going to fetch the town leader.
It seemed someone had. An older-looking man greeted them at the entrance to the village.
“Welcome, strangers… and Noorani. What brings you here this day? We do not have any more metals for trade at the moment.”
“We are not here for that, Isaiah,” Noorani replied, “We wish to discuss an attack by your people.”
Isaiah glanced about nervously before replying. “Please, come to my home so we can discuss this in private.”
The three followed the man inside a sturdily built house. It looked to be built from mud bricks and coated with some sort of clay on the outside. Despite the crude craftsmanship, the home was rather spacious on the inside and blissfully cool.
Norman followed the man’s example as he unwrapped his head wrap.
“Please, sit,” Isaiah gestured to some thick pillows on the carpet-covered floor. “Can I offer any of you a drink?”
Noorani shook her head, the feathers of her headdress sending light dancing across the room.
“I’ll take some water,” Norman replied.
Grobert grunted. “You got any strong spirits?”
Norman saw Isaiah smile at the gron’s request. “I believe I have something you may like.”
After the man served drinks, he sat down opposite the three and held his glass in two hands. “To new acquaintances,” then he downed his cup in one swig.
Norman, Grobert, and even Noorani, with an empty glass, followed suit.
Grobert smacked his lips. “Hmm, not bad. You got any of this for trade?”
“Afraid not. A village down the river makes the spirit from the goba berry. They only grow in the sandy sections near them. I could offer you the last of my bottle if you would like?”
“No, I wouldn’t feel comfortable taking from you without giving something in return.”
Isaiah nodded. “Perhaps you will return and trade for it then. Now shall we get to the root of what brought you three here?”
Norman let Grobert take over from here.
“Our village was attacked by a group of men wearing this,” Grobert pulled the tabard from his pouch and held it out for Isaiah, who refused to take it.
“P- please put that away.”
Grobert nodded and put the item back in his pouch.
Isaiah sighed in relief when the garment was hidden again. “I’m sorry for the attack. They are called the Radiant Brotherhood or the Radiant Followers as they prefer to be called. We don’t condone their violence or actions, but ever since our world cracked apart, they have been slowly growing in influence.” Isaiah sighed and rubbed his face. “We put up with their dogma because we do not have the resources or manpower to chase them off. I fear they may already know you are here thanks to their spies. They have corrupted many of the minds of our younger generation with their fanaticism and promises of a better life.”
“Any chance of convincing them to stop attacking us?”
The man gave a tired shrug. “I can’t begin to understand them, let alone tell you how they might react. As much as this pains me to say, it might be best if our people sever ties. Perhaps then they will soon forget about you.”
“Will they retaliate against you for hosting us?”
“Doubtful. They may be annoyed by it, but so long as we don’t contend their “god” they have no reason to. They need us to be compliant and the younger folks to have willing ears for their message.”
“So you don’t believe?” Norman asked.
Isaiah gave a smirk, “have you ever met a god? I have. It wasn’t very convincing. That is all I will say about it. Unfortunately, I cannot be a proper host for you on this day. It would be best if you all left before their men have time to gather and confront you. A lot of them are local men and boys raised in this village and we would not wish to see them harmed.” With that, Isaiah stood and bowed. “Please enjoy the comforts of my home but heed my warning.”
With that, Isaiah wrapped his head back up and left.
“Well, that wasn’t ominous,” Norman muttered.
Grobert rubbed his chin in thought. “Ey, I’m not too worried about them confronting us. This whole god thing is troubling though. Someone acting like a god is never a good sign.”
“Let their pathetic god come, we have our own.” Norman groaned at Noorani’s words.
“I’ve told you before, Noorani, I am not a god.”
“But you have the power over life and death. If not a god, then a favored messenger of one.”
Norman decided not to argue the point with the ooraki priestess, it always ended the same way and never seemed to get her to change her mind anyway. It was one of the reasons he was glad when her people decided to set out and make their own village.
Norman popped out of the teleporter near the ooraki village with Grobert and Noorani beside him. Eugene had elected to remain behind to defend the city if need be. Not that the other greykin likely needed defending. The gron were more than capable of defending themselves with just their basic strength which was nearly three times that of a normal human. And that was before you factored in any callings they might have.
As it turns out, the greykin retained all of their skills and memories when Norman resurrected them. He knew it worked that way when he converted living people but it wasn’t a certainty that it would work that same way on the dead.
This was all assuming their body was intact and their soul was willing, however. Norman shuddered at the memory of the failed attempts to force a soul to join with a damaged body. The gron scholar – whom Norman had repeatedly used his Glimpse from Beyond spell on – was one of Norman’s first attempts to resurrect the dead. He was one of the most knowledgeable people Norman had encountered so it made sense to utilize that knowledge.
It worked if you could consider a lobotomized greykin a success. Norman had been forced to kill the poor bastard a second time, which resulted in a vengeful spirit when he summoned the man’s ghost to explain what went wrong. Turns out the body state can transfer to the soul, or spirit before death. So when Norman summoned the spirit again, it was mindless and violent.
Norman didn’t fear for his own safety in that situation, as he had used the spell to make the undead ignore him. But the spirit had still caused quite a bit of damage to the summoning room before Norman was able to cancel the spell. It was damage that Grobert had to repair. The man had complained about the damage for weeks after the incident.
The teleporter platform the three of them used to get to the ooraki village was well hidden and nearly impossible to detect unless you knew what you were looking for. The reason for having it outside the city and not within the safe confines of a building was simple. The ooraki didn’t trust the technology. And having a random building in the middle of a field would be suspicious. Still, with this last attack, Norman might ask Grobert to build one for it anyway. It seemed like a bad idea to just leave it in the open since were no other safety procedures in place to prevent unwanted people from using the teleporter. A few guards on the other side would be a must as well.
That was a concern for later though, and hopefully never. Norman hoped this diplomatic meeting went well and they could resolve this misunderstanding in some amicable fashion.
Norman glanced over at the priestess, who looked a bit uncomfortable in her outfit. Norman suspected she had only donned the outfit in order to impress him. It certainly didn’t look like comfortable travel attire. He debated on whether or not to ask her if she wanted to change outfits since heading to their town would only delay them a few minutes, but he decided against it. It would be a good lesson for her.
He hitched up his pack and followed behind Noorani as she led the way. While Norman hoped for a positive outcome in these talks, he had come fully prepared for shit to go sideways. Religious zealots were never the most stable of people to deal with in the best of times. Hopefully, he could mollify them with some concession. If it meant closed borders or something else Norman could live with, so be it, at least then there wouldn’t be any more attacks. He wanted to say unprovoked attacks, but after hearing Noorani’s accounting, he couldn’t quite be sure if that was true or not.
The group stopped at the border for the night, seeing as the deadlands were quite a bit more hospitable than the zone they were heading into. Norman smiled at the irony as he set up his tent. Afterward, he stared at the dusty red environment that awaited them in the morning. It reminded Norman of pictures from Arizona, only there were no mountains or canyons that he could see. Only a mostly flat plain of red and cracked rocks.
Occasional gusts of wind would kick up some dust, but overall, the area just looked lifeless. Kind of like Mars, Norman realized.
Norman had no idea how anyone survived in conditions like this, but he was curious to find out.
***
“Are we there, yet?” Norman groaned.
They had been walking for eight hours. Norman regretted his decision not to use those weird snake horses. But while the undead were immune to the venom, he was not. He envied them for that. Also with the fact that they seemed to be tireless and unaffected by the heat, unlike him, whose feet were pounding and who had to cover his skin to prevent being baked like a lobster.
“We should be there soon, Life Bringer.”
“Let's stop and rest, I can’t keep this pace up.” Norman didn’t wait for a reply as he plopped his tired body down on a flat rock that rose above the dusty ground just enough to make a decent seat.
He instantly regretted it. “Ahhh!” He shot up and rubbed his ass. The rock was so hot it burned him through his jeans.
He could even smell burnt fabric from the short encounter with the hot rock. He swore in annoyance.
This was one of the worst zones Norman had been to so far, not accounting for the gron people as a whole. The zone was easily a hundred and ten degrees and Norman had been forced to wrap his head in some white cloth to keep from sweating to death. It seemed relief was close at hand though as the group continued forward. The hard red rocks and dirt gave way to purplish-tinted grass and eventually trees. If you could call the scraggly-looking things, trees. But even those stunted things gave some shade.
“We can rest in the shade,” Noorani gestured to a fallen log. “The village we traded with straddles a wide river and the plant life means we are within an hour's walk of it.”
After a short rest, Noorani proved to be true to her word. The village appeared as the trio came around a shallow hill.
“That’s it?” Norman looked at the village, which was even smaller than the greykin village.
Noorani nodded. “The people of this land live rather meager existences. From what we gathered, they are broken up along this river in small communities and barely grow enough to feed themselves.”
“Ok, then why were you here trading?”
“While they don’t have much in the way of food, they do have an abundance of metals and other minerals. We trade them our excess food, and they trade us the metal, which we in turn use to make clothing and jewelry.”
“Clothing?” Norman asked with surprise.
Noorani gestured to her dress. Norman hadn’t put much thought into the item, figuring it was just some weird shiny fabric.
“You’re saying that dress is made from metal?”
“Not all of it, but there are gold and silver strands threaded through it.”
Gold and silver… She had a dress made with real gold and silver. The garment was probably worth more than anything Norman had ever owned.
“And the headdress?”
Noorani smiled, “I’m glad you noticed, Life Bringer. Yes, the feathers are coated with gold foil as well.”
“How have you managed all this?” Norman was flabbergasted at the workmanship.
“It is a simple thing for the ooraki artisans you brought back. While not ideal for a normal tribe, we don’t require as much food or other things. It gives the men time to create beautiful masterpieces instead of mucking about in the dirt.”
Norman couldn’t argue with that.
Grobert grunted, “Yeah, suppose the workmanship is decent. A bit ostentatious though.”
Noorani glared at the gron like he physically slapped her. “That’s because you gron have no sense for art. All you have are your bland buildings and meaningless lives.”
“Ok, let’s stop there,” Norman said, stepping between the two before they could get into a fight. “We’re here for diplomacy, let’s not forget that amongst ourselves as well.”
Grobert grinned past Norman and to the taller ooraki priestess. “Aye, diplomacy. The day isn’t getting any longer, shall we?” he gestured.
Norman shook his head and sighed. He knew Grobert would get the woman back eventually. The man may have been the gron President for two hundred years, but he was also a mischief maker. Norman didn’t worry about the gron attacking her. Instead, he would likely sneak in and take something that would cause her no end of annoyance when she least expected it.
With the small disagreement out of the way, the three approached the town. Norman could see people going about their business. All were wearing some sort of head scarves to keep the hot sun off their heads. Soon some of the people spotted their group, and Norman saw one go running. He really hoped they were going to fetch the town leader.
It seemed someone had. An older-looking man greeted them at the entrance to the village.
“Welcome, strangers… and Noorani. What brings you here this day? We do not have any more metals for trade at the moment.”
“We are not here for that, Isaiah,” Noorani replied, “We wish to discuss an attack by your people.”
Isaiah glanced about nervously before replying. “Please, come to my home so we can discuss this in private.”
The three followed the man inside a sturdily built house. It looked to be built from mud bricks and coated with some sort of clay on the outside. Despite the crude craftsmanship, the home was rather spacious on the inside and blissfully cool.
Norman followed the man’s example as he unwrapped his head wrap.
“Please, sit,” Isaiah gestured to some thick pillows on the carpet-covered floor. “Can I offer any of you a drink?”
Noorani shook her head, the feathers of her headdress sending light dancing across the room.
“I’ll take some water,” Norman replied.
Grobert grunted. “You got any strong spirits?”
Norman saw Isaiah smile at the gron’s request. “I believe I have something you may like.”
After the man served drinks, he sat down opposite the three and held his glass in two hands. “To new acquaintances,” then he downed his cup in one swig.
Norman, Grobert, and even Noorani, with an empty glass, followed suit.
Grobert smacked his lips. “Hmm, not bad. You got any of this for trade?”
“Afraid not. A village down the river makes the spirit from the goba berry. They only grow in the sandy sections near them. I could offer you the last of my bottle if you would like?”
“No, I wouldn’t feel comfortable taking from you without giving something in return.”
Isaiah nodded. “Perhaps you will return and trade for it then. Now shall we get to the root of what brought you three here?”
Norman let Grobert take over from here.
“Our village was attacked by a group of men wearing this,” Grobert pulled the tabard from his pouch and held it out for Isaiah, who refused to take it.
“P- please put that away.”
Grobert nodded and put the item back in his pouch.
Isaiah sighed in relief when the garment was hidden again. “I’m sorry for the attack. They are called the Radiant Brotherhood or the Radiant Followers as they prefer to be called. We don’t condone their violence or actions, but ever since our world cracked apart, they have been slowly growing in influence.” Isaiah sighed and rubbed his face. “We put up with their dogma because we do not have the resources or manpower to chase them off. I fear they may already know you are here thanks to their spies. They have corrupted many of the minds of our younger generation with their fanaticism and promises of a better life.”
“Any chance of convincing them to stop attacking us?”
The man gave a tired shrug. “I can’t begin to understand them, let alone tell you how they might react. As much as this pains me to say, it might be best if our people sever ties. Perhaps then they will soon forget about you.”
“Will they retaliate against you for hosting us?”
“Doubtful. They may be annoyed by it, but so long as we don’t contend their “god” they have no reason to. They need us to be compliant and the younger folks to have willing ears for their message.”
“So you don’t believe?” Norman asked.
Isaiah gave a smirk, “have you ever met a god? I have. It wasn’t very convincing. That is all I will say about it. Unfortunately, I cannot be a proper host for you on this day. It would be best if you all left before their men have time to gather and confront you. A lot of them are local men and boys raised in this village and we would not wish to see them harmed.” With that, Isaiah stood and bowed. “Please enjoy the comforts of my home but heed my warning.”
With that, Isaiah wrapped his head back up and left.
“Well, that wasn’t ominous,” Norman muttered.
Grobert rubbed his chin in thought. “Ey, I’m not too worried about them confronting us. This whole god thing is troubling though. Someone acting like a god is never a good sign.”
“Let their pathetic god come, we have our own.” Norman groaned at Noorani’s words.
“I’ve told you before, Noorani, I am not a god.”
“But you have the power over life and death. If not a god, then a favored messenger of one.”
Norman decided not to argue the point with the ooraki priestess, it always ended the same way and never seemed to get her to change her mind anyway. It was one of the reasons he was glad when her people decided to set out and make their own village.
