Nidus I surrender all to thee.
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In this world young men dream of riches, to become divine with wealth.
Most men are born in the grave as slaves, laborers, miners, militia, and levies.
Men are not created equal and beasts are created stronger.
The dominion of men is long rotten my friends.
To rise to the test, a certainty granted by the gods.
Chronicles.
Divinity and wisdom manifest, a shard of the gods given to man.
Simple items, beyond our understanding, granting magics, strength, and prowess.
The many chosen can choose to wage war for their kingdoms or enter the Abyss and seek glory for all humanity.
Very drab eh?
A young man closes a leather-bound book, emboldened with the title "Common Era Of Marklo."
The small frail frame of the man reflects in the crackles of a smoldering fire lying inside a rickety clay-made chimney..
Common Era my arse, it's the Era of nobles.
His medium-length shaggy black hair wavers as his arm outstretches and tosses the book in the fire.
The second a peasant gets a Chronicle they think themselves a god, they don't get on their knees and thank the venerable above.
The young man stands up, the light flickers from the dying embers revealing a sudden home, a tiny cabinet barely large enough to lay across, a rusted stew pot hangs from the chimney, the only belonging around, the man has rotten half eaten up leather shoes, brown trousers that are torn to his knees, a woolen tunic of blue, barely hanging by its threads which look to be home-sewn.
I need a new pot.
His drab olive eyes glare into the darkness, leering at the cast iron cookout
The root stew goes sour when I cook in it I need a new pot, I must make some bronze so I can get a new stew pot.
He shifts open a wooden plank masquerading as a door, sunlight peers through the cabin, brightening it up considerably, the young man squints his eyes as the sudden rush of light envelops him
Time to go back to work.
The outside world is frankly the polar opposite of the man's home, verdant trees with slick thin layers of ice covering needles and shrubs. A cold wind rushes around him, his rags billow and pull up from his thinly laid skin.
He reaches his long fingers down into the back pocket of his breeches, and from within he pulls out a rusted dagger.
I need a new stabber, this one is getting dull.
The dagger is long and thin, with a backward triangle blade shape, a seax. The edge is chipped and rolled and the wrapped handle is worn almost down to a bare tang with only a few strips of leather cord remaining
He wipes the cruddy bits of the dagger off against his tunic and feels it out for a moment, giving some light thrusts and cuts to the air, his feeble arms barely swing the seax but still the edge is dangerous.
Good enough.
There is a small rocky path that leads into the forest, from it links multiple other small cabins similar to the young man's.
Quota, quota, quota.
Along the path, a patchy note is nailed onto a tree.
"Aldric, 5 teeth."
His job.
5? Greedy bastards. 5 nurk teeth
Nurks are a festering plague in the common lands of Marklo, close in relation to the common goblin, smaller dumber, and paler skin, they eat food stashes and raid livestock steal away the weak and frail women and children, for food and reproduction purposes, disgusting creatures.
And it is Aldric's job to kill 5 today.
Hmm, I heard from the others that they saw some nurk lairs on the east side of the forest, I should head that way.
He slips the note into his pocket along with his dagger.
Along the entryway to the thick forest, he picks up some large rocks.
Just in case.
Branches and thistles whack Aldric's bare skin as he traverses the forest, the cold ground quickly makes his feet get chilled to the bone.
Chipmunks and birds tweet away and scurry around.
I should check my trips first.
He suddenly takes a sharp turn left, ducking a large swinging willow branch.
Just this way, juicy juicy wabbit.
He stumbles through brush and arrives at a small barren patch, half a legs wide. A small circle of string tied off to a branch lies on the ground undisturbed.
Gods damn it!
Going hungry again the men in charge barely feed us but a few roots these days! Fuckers.
I'm going to have to hunt on an empty stomach.
Aldric's mind refocuses on hunting the nurks.
I might have to eat one of the little bastards, my stomach is rolling. I've been eating rust and rocks just to satiate myself.
He continues back on the main path east.
Aldric grows weary the closer he gets to the reported nurk area, they can drop on a man any second, 2 or 3 are enough to be a problem, he has to catch them by their lonesome and dispatch them quickly.
I did set some traps but those little bastards are too smart for that.
He creeps low through thistle and brush, keeping his breath lowered, as he gets closer to the next dry clearing he draws the simple dagger from his belt.
Now where are these little bastards?
He clenches his breath, his chest heaves heavily.
"Guk naka! Naka naka!"
Aldric's ears perk up as small squabbling echoes from within the pines. The dagger in his hand trembles.
I have killed them before, come on now steel yourself.
Aldric traces around the treeline slowly, listening to every drop of a leaf and swish of grass. By nature, the nurks are loud creatures and they will reveal themselves easily to their hunter.
"Grukka nokka tu wah!"
Their squabbling chatter grows near, their voices like chalk on a board.
It's just 2, it should be easy. Just kill one then kill the other.
Aldric raises his hand to his mouth, cupping his dried lips.
"Whoo whoo."
The nurks turn with their teeth raised, the thin hair on their blue skin standing, one lifts a simple stone axe and begins looking around frantically.
"Nokka Nokka!"
Damnable freaks, come a little closer now. I need only to kill one for the amount of teeth I need.
Aldric makes the first move, dashing through his remaining cover and charging the closest nurk, its eyes widen in surprise, its body unable to move at the sight of the human coming at him rapidly.
"Die!"
He rips the dagger into the nurks throat and a geyser of blue blood sprays all over its companion. The remaining nurk screams in disbelief, raising its stone axe in rage.
"ZUGGA!"
Aldric removes his knife from the nurks throat and stumbles back.
"You freak creature, come on then, run away."
He waves his knife at the nurk dismissively, the little enraged creature does not heed his opponent's advice and instead charges in, waving its axe wildly.
"Ok, I gave you a chance."
Alrdic quickly reaches down and grabs a clump of dirt, he casually tosses it at the nurk causing it to shake its head and begin to rub its eyes.
"Fucking idiot."
He surges forward with his knife and quickly dispatches the nurk the same way he killed the first.
Now for what I came for.
Aldric squats down, and using his knife he curls up the lip of one of the nurks, from there he steadily reaches his fingers in and wiggles some rotten teeth from the creature's black and blue gums.
5 should do it, any more and they will think I can actually fight. The lord will take anyone who can fight, I am fine where I am now, a lowly thrall. I should turn tail now, there are surely more nearby and I've done all the fighting I would like to do today. There are vargs in this territory as well, and those terrible bitter creatures would tear me to quarters.
Aldric pockets the teeth and quickly swipes his seax in the dirt, crudely cleaning off the nurk viscera.
He pockets the knife and begins his long trudge back to his tiny ramshackle abode. The journey back goes mostly uncontested, and the small line of rotting cabins comes clearly back into his view after an hour or so of walking.
As Aldric crosses onto the pathway to his shed a distant voice calls out,
"Oi! Still alive are yah?" - "Im surprised, the skin and bones you are."
Aldric rolls his eyes, a large old woman stands a few cabins down, her torn up apron fluttering in the gusting wind from the nearby highlands.
"Olga, you stale old barrel of a woman, I'm surprised your still alive!"
Olgas face grows red with anger - "You bastard son of a cow, I hope the baron takes you away from here, you damnable skeleton of a man."
She harumphs and enters her cabin. slamming the shoddy door behind her large frame.
The baron, he will be coming soon to collect everyone's dues, since I am a thrall of the wilds I will have to give up all that I earned in today's hunt.
Aldric lays out the nurk teeth in a neat line on his remaining stool. The stools legs have been patchworked together with hide glue and home made fiber wrappings.
He watches the remaining embers in his fire pit smolder for some time as he uses some wet soil to rub the blood off his ragged clothing.
They will be here soon. 3 years of servitude I have been subjected too, just because my lowborn bastard of a father decided to develop some bad habits regarding coin and drink. The robber baron is not a man to trifle with, he has 100s of mercenaries under his employ, and thousands of slaves just like me to generate a massive heap of wealth for him. I have 2 more haggard years left in this place before I am free.
Horses huff in the distance, the clopping of their feet growing closer, distant mumbling makes itself more clear as footsteps draw near the door.
They are here even sooner than I expected.
"Number 42, turn in your assignment immediately."
Aldric sits up promptly, grabbing the nurk teeth after watching them carefully for hours.
"Yes my lords, coming now."
My lords.. A damn steward and some strong arms with spears. Lets get this over with.
He lodges his door open just to have the grand sight of a sneering man, he is what some would call heavyset with short blond hair, he wears simple clothing minus his feathered hat, 3 mercenary spearmen stand behind him, they wear simple padded gambesons and nasalhelms.
"Here are the requested teeth."
Aldric holds the teeth out. The steward stands on his tippy toes to investigate them closely, his eyes darting to each individual specimen carefully.
"Yes." The steward greedily grabs them. "Fine work little thrall, how about 2 bowls of bone broth for you today. Guard."
He claps his hands and one of the guards throws down a small sack.
Powdered broth. Fuckers arent even cooking the slop anymore. Now I have to go find water, goddamn beautiful. The creek is a 15 minutes walk, and I have to go past all the nay-do-wellers.
Aldric retrieves the sack of powdered bone marrow and closes his door.
Maybe I should step it up just a tad, not enough to get the barons attention, but enough to be given some bread. If I recall bread is awarded for completing your task almost half over, so if I got 8 teeth I would have gotten some, those teeth were within my grasp just this afternoon aswell.
Damn it all.