Herald of death

"You obtained the Dungeon conqueror (E) title. Extra rewards have been granted," the voice announces. The reward window fades in, barely visible at the bright mountain top where Ethan stands. A peryton's body – a giant eagle with the antlers of a dear and the fangs of a wolf – lies dead a few meters away.

Peryton's nest (E)

Return stone

Silver coin (x8)

Peryton fang (x3)

Ability book: Poisoned natural weapons (F)

--- Extra rewards ---

Ring of protection (E)

Gold coin (x1)

Ability book: Strengthening (F)

Ethan picks up the items, stopping on a few for identification.

Ability book: Poisoned natural weapons (F)

Coats the claws, talons, fangs, and other natural slashing or piercing natural weapons of the user with poison. The user is immune to the poison he secretes.

Ability book: Strengthening (F)

Increases the Strength of the user in proportion with the Ether he consumes.

Russ runs around, trying to catch a butterfly. "Come," Ethan orders. As Russ runs to his feet, Ethan lays the Poisoned natural weapons book on the ground. "I know we only worked on this once, but I have faith in you," Ethan begins. Walking back, he orders, "Read."

Russ flips the cover with a swipe of his paw. The contents fly into his head, and the book turns to dust. "Good boy." Ethan copies him with the Strengthening Ability book.

Ethan slips on the second ring of protection. A red window appears before him.

Wearing two or more items providing the same benefits (disregarding their ranks) will cause all items to negate each other.

"Well, that’s too bad," Ethan says to Russ as he stashes the ring in his haversack along with his SCAR-H. He looks around, searching for an easy way down. Finding no path, he sighs and walks toward one of the less-sloped sides.

Ethan and Russ begin their descent down the mountain. They carefully navigate the rugged and treacherous terrain. The air grows cooler and fresher as they move away from the summit, with greenery gradually replacing the sparse mountain vegetation. As they traverse a winding path lined with small rocks, the landscape opens up to reveal a sprawling vista.

In the distance, a quaint village emerges from the fold of the valley. The settlement is a patchwork of thatched roofs and cobblestone paths. Wisps of smoke rise from chimneys. The buildings remind Ethan of medieval depictions, but with thicker walls and a sturdier construction.

Ethan pauses for a moment to take in the view. The village appears peaceful. Fields of wheat sway gently on the outskirts, and small figures can be seen moving around. 'I've got to find out if I speak their language, and if I don't, I'll simply continue to the next place,' Ethan plans.

Russ, undeterred by the scenic pause, tugs at Ethan's linen pants. "I know, it must smell as weird as it feels," Ethan mocks. He's wearing ample dark crimson linen pants along with a black linen long-sleeve shirt. Except for the Rangers he hides under his pants, he's dressed in items he bought in a medieval roleplaying shop. Ethan pats Russ' head as he resumes his walk.

Reaching the base of the mountain, the terrain evens out. Grassy plains stretch out before them, dotted with the occasional patch of trees.

As they approach the village's outskirts, they can hear children playing in the fields. Two men are talking near a well, and one of them draws water from it.

"What's the race of that dog? I've never seen one like that," one of them asks, pointing his finger at Russ.

The second looks for a few long seconds at Ethan. "His clothes look brand new," he says.

Ethan understands what they are saying but must fill in a few words that are altered compared to the Eldorian he learned. Russ looks at them as he notices the attention they give him. Ethan adjusts his pants, making sure they hide his modern boots. Villagers nod politely towards him, and he nods back, his demeanor calm and non-threatening despite his physique. Russ stays close by his side, clearly confused by his surroundings.

They enter the main thoroughfare of the village, where the stone paths are lined with small shops and homes. An elderly man sitting outside a tavern looks up from his pipe, eyeing Ethan and Russ with interest.

"Evening, traveler," the old man calls out, his voice rough but friendly. "We don't see many strangers round these parts. What brings you down here?"

Ethan stops, considering his response. He sees a bulletin board along the tavern; one of the posters bears the drawing of the peryton he killed. 'Better make me known as competent,' he thinks. He takes a few steps towards the old man and says, "I am coming back from the peryton's nest and thought your village would be a nice place to rest."

The old man freezes at Ethan's answer. He stands up, visibly hurting himself in doing so, and bows. "I'm sorry for inappropriately asking about your lordship's affairs," he begs. The display stuns the villagers; their gazes turn to Ethan.

'What did I do? Was that monster a legendary beast no one killed in hundreds of years?' Ethan asks himself. He approaches the old man. "Please don’t; I am no lord. Just a wandering … adventurer," Ethan lies, his voice as soft as possible.

Ethan's correction does little to dispel the awe in the villagers' eyes. They murmur among themselves, their expressions a mixture of respect, fear, and curiosity. The old man straightens slowly, his face creased with apology and reverence. He nods and waves him towards the tavern. "Of course, of course. My inn should have a room for you if you want to rest. Or we could find someone who would lend his house," he offers.

"I will settle for the inn; there is no need to evict someone from their home," Ethan says, utterly confused by the man's behavior. He enters the inn, eager to get a meal after the long hours of hiking.

The few patrons take no heed of Ethan, giving him only a glance or two. He spots a man paying for a plate of meat stew with two copper coins. He sits on a stool as Russ lies down alongside him. "Could I have the same thing he's having?" Ethan asks the waitress as he slides two copper coins.

The entire tavern freezes, turning their gazes towards Ethan in unison. Russ springs to his feet, ready to jump anyone who'd try to attack them. 'I asked for a meal!' Ethan yells in his head.

The waitress places a plate in front of Ethan without taking his coins. He asks her, "Why is everyone taking me for some kind of lord the moment I speak?"

The waitress, a young woman with a kind but wary look, hesitates before responding. Her voice low, so only Ethan can hear, she answers, "It's how you speak; … the only people we ever hear speak like that are lords and priests." She gives him a sympathetic smile and backs away to attend to other patrons.

Ethan gets up, walking back to the inn's entrance with his meal in hand. He leaves the coins on the counter. Russ switches his gaze from one patron to the other, not knowing why they stare at Ethan. He sits with the old man on his bench.

"Apologies for the commotion," Ethan begins. "What can you tell me about this village? I gather it's usually quiet."

The old man nods, pulling on his pipe thoughtfully. "Quiet most times, yes. We're mostly miners and farmers, with one craftsman. Elmswood is old, the only reason being that the bright steel we mine is useful to the capital."

"Tell me about the capital," Ethan says between two bites. 'That may be a bit much; he might expect me to already know those things,' Ethan thinks.

The old man's eyes light up with a hint of pride. "Ah, the city of Opal, a magnificent place edging the sea. It shelters one of the greatest armies on the continent and its most imposing naval force. And the current regent is attracting more and more great minds from our neighbors." He puffs on his pipe, sending swirls of smoke into the air. "The city thrives with artists and scholars, and traders land there from all over the world."

'Probably the best place to find a world map,' Ethan thinks. He hesitates to ask his next question but speaks anyway, "And in which direction should I go? Should I want to visit Opal."

The old man removes his pipe from his mouth, looking at Ethan with a perplexed look. "You would go west," the old man says, pointing his pipe at the setting sun.

'Good, at least we share directions,' Ethan jokes to himself. Finishing his meal, he notices a band of men dressed in makeshift armor roughing up a young man. "They don't look like farmers or miners," Ethan says.

"They deserted the army after their unit was slaughtered by a troll. They force us to pay for protection in food, lodging, and coins. Nobody likes them, but they do kill the occasional goblin and deter other bandits," the old man explains.

One of them notices Ethan and joins them. Russ growls at his approach but stops as Ethan thinks, 'Leave it.'

The deserter, a rugged man with a scar cutting across his face, sizes up Ethan. He spits on the ground near his boots and sneers. "Who do we have here? A wanderer who thinks he can stroll through these parts without paying dues?" His question is voiced as a threat.

Ethan meets the deserter's gaze firmly, showing no sign of backing down. "I'm just passing through, looking for some rest. I don't intend to start any fight," he replies, his tone calm but assertive.

The deserter chuckles darkly, stepping closer. The smell of stale sweat is tough, like strong pepper. "Everyone pays, mate. Especially rich fuckers like you. We keep the village safe, so how about you contribute to our efforts? A bit of coin, perhaps?"

Russ growls lowly beside Ethan. Placing his empty plate on the bench, Ethan stands up, his head rising slightly higher than the deserter's. "I won't be staying long enough to benefit from your … protection."

The man's smirk quickly vanishes, replaced by a scowl. His hand drifts toward the sword at his belt. The three other deserters approach, attracted by the confrontation. "Don't play the fool. We can make your stay very uncomfortable, or worse."

The air thickens with tension. The old man stands up, his voice stern as he intervenes. "Enough, Garrett. Back off and leave him be."

Garrett's hand drops his sword's handle, hurling his fist to backhand the old man. Ethan grabs him at the wrist, stopping it instantly. Ethan swipes his legs and throws him into the street. 'Heel,' he mentally orders as he exits the tavern's porch to face the deserters.

"Insight," Ethan says. A window appears before him.

Garrett Symons

Lv.8/20 (Warrior) Human

Strength: 18 Charisma: 8

Dexterity: 13 Perception: 10

Constitution: 13 Willpower: 9

Intelligence: 8

Abilities

Endurance (F)

Strengthening (F)