Six nonhuman souls.

  For Ullool, that meant half a percent of the population. Obviously not many, but it was also far from statistically insignificant. Nor was it noticeably above the rate of other villages in Medean’s territory— I had simply done an excellent job avoiding them.

  Running into them would essentially be Tagalong Girl’s first ‘exam’. While I already existed beyond the veil of life and death, Archmortus Supreme(although retired(mostly)), her future would be less underground. When she grasped the nature of their plight, she would take immediate action.

  While I remained present, the phrase ‘fatal mistake’ would be a misnomer, but if she tried anything soon it was certainly not an endeavor that would be met with any success.

  So to keep her from becoming jaded before even reaching adulthood, I would put a moratorium on elvish encounters.

  But I’m the one in charge, I can interrogate as many wood warping worms as I please in the interim!

  Obviously none were to be found in the same district as the esteemed Dressen. Ullool also couldn’t support slums. The lowest class of people here were farmers and occasional porters. Neither of which were particularly unfortunate, at worst their houses made use of wooden hinges and window shutters.

  There were three aberrant domiciles on the village outskirts however. Made with minimal timber for support, grass covered muddy domes(one would not dare slander hobbit holes by comparing the two) rose up from the earth like boils.

  Passing by empty homes whose occupants were actually working, I arrived at the smallest hovel. I could just barely see over the makeshift hill, other than a lush layer of grass and some small shrubberies trying to take root. Numerous saplings encircled the dome, their tiny arms shaking slightly at each breeze.

  Since these were all planted intentionally by an elf, it looked almost… unnatural. After all, from one sapling to the next was only about three feet. For the moment they may have had room but only for the moment. In just a decade or two, they’d be fighting for the light.

  It didn’t feel particularly elvish, but I was operating entirely on knowledge of a completely unrelated collective of mythologies. That also contributed to the necessity of this task.

  Skipping every step, I lightly touched down onto one of several flagstones in the sunken courtyard. I don’t want to give the impression this was some sort of paved architectural choice. They were merely a pragmatic decision to slightly reduce how muddy you were going to get when entering the home on a rainy day.

  Two beds of herbs flanking the door were the only ‘aesthetic’ choice in this mud pit— and by herbs of course I mean some variety of moss(granted, with blue and purple buds it could have been nice if not contained by more scrappy pieces of stone).

  The startling dearth of wood and earthen replacements made me think more of a Gutter Dwarf than an elf. However the logical line to their origins was still rather simple. A firm aversion to ‘misusing’ parts of a tree. Without being able to cultivate a relationship with the woods properly, as was the case in this human controlled settlement, they would need to forgo using it in most cases.

  A few timbers did still make up a frame for a door. Three layers of animal hides and fur made up the portal itself, stretched taut between the corners. No good for knocking, hopefully I wouldn’t crash the place by smacking the frame instead.

  “Introduce yourself.” With two solid thuds, my announcement could have been heard through the hole house(about 200 square feet at best). Previously sitting in a meditative posture, he quickly rose to his feet before hesitating.

  Only hesitating, he still came to open his door rather quickly.

  Not that it’s saying much, but he was only a little shy of six foot, which meant he had to lean down to get out of his own door— something he needed to do to look up at my face.

  “How… can I help you? Sir?” I caught a lilting accent in his voice as he struggled to find a proper form of address. Carefully evaluating my own appearance, he cast a glance back into his dank home towards a shortsword.

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  Was I not threatening enough? Do you dare think you can take me?

  “I am this village’s potter now, and will establish some ground rules.”

  After the time needed for him to register the word potter, his eyes narrowed coldly. Now he properly began sizing me up, eyes pausing on my belt where I kept my only visible weapon, a long knife, which only looked punier on my waist.

  “You are permitted to make requests, but payment is necessary upfront. You are not to speak to my apprentice, or her sister. You are not to get within 100 paces of my workshop—“

  “Do you think obeying the Church gives you any authority?” Thankfully his simmering discontent was ignited. Only three demands in and they were already starting to lack impact. And thinking of impact…

  There was the patter of dirt falling through the ceiling supports behind him, and something ornamental clattering to the ground with a wooden clack as I slapped a hand onto the roof.

  “Pay more attention to the scriptures. They are a guide to gathering true authority, not just a way to get hollow titles from the Church. Clean up and spend more time around Petal Floor”

  “Only the woods are worthy of my respect! Just a new potter in town and you think you can make demands like this?”

  “Woods? What woods? You call these saplings atop your hovel the woods? Are the trees suffocating between building the woods? What an awe-inspiring sight they are!” Straying from my cool-headed personality for a moment, learning more about his culture was the priority here(after frustrating him to the point of never visiting me).

  “You butchers of the earth are blind. Before your ancestors, the bounty of the woods filled the whole world! Everything was provided for us, and spirits of the woods would grant us indescribable powers! Raising rivers as snakes, quelling fires at a glance, bringing stars down from the sky! In ancient legend, Lloffihane merged with the Great Tree Asatyss, ascending to an immortal spirit. The strength your Church prides itself on is no match for the grandeur of the woods!”

  I’m so lucky I ran into an easily provoked elf first. The only downside being he wasn’t the most educated.

  “Where did the woods go if the Church is no match?” Along with thinking the forest covered the entire world, he was retelling a fairytale. Or considering the various fantastical elements it was simply misunderstanding his people’s history.

  It implied a pact, now lost, with spirits of the woods. Being conferred Druidic and elementalist powers at that scale definitely piqued my interest, especially when it came to harnessing the stars. Literal or metaphorical, even if it was exaggerated magic related to heavenly bodies was always impressive.

  He however seemed to think merging with a ‘Great Tree’ was more impressive. Did Lloffihane(rhymes with Akane) truly ascend? Were we dealing not only with an absurdly large world, but multiple higher realms as well? Great Trees were also named characters, so was it a sapient tree, or more along the lines of a treant?

  Ultimately, a lot of unconfirmed rumors that he was taking too seriously.

  “It’s because human nature is inherently deceitful!” The elf was losing ground, doubt clouding er his eyes. Insults remained able to be thrown aimlessly “But you’re trapped by rules now. You come in here making demands, but you won’t go against the grain. No matter how much you puff up your chest, you won’t take any action, even if I…”

  Burning a third of my mana, I reached through the ceiling of the dome. Just a layer of sod, mixed with large pottery shards for a slight structural significance, with a final layer of a fibrous mesh, kept place with a wooden grid.

  The elf paused as I loomed directly over him, slowly removing my arm letting particles of soil fall directly on him. He retreated back into his domicile, looking through the new skylight.

  “I follow the scriptures. Our original edicts have never encouraged obedience to a group. Even if all others are content, I will take action if necessary.”

  I stared down at his green eyes, and he finally seemed to take my threats seriously. Incoherently muttering in what must be elvish, he closed his front door before admitting defeat.

  “I believe you brute. I’ll stay out of your way.”

  He made a quick patch with clay, no longer letting me peer directly onto his home. Then he retreated to his bed in the back corner and entered a meditative stance after grabbing a short sword to lay beside him.

  His breathing slowed down as much as possible, and just barely perceptible were his long ears tilting forward ever so slightly straining to wait for the footsteps of departure. I came on too strongly, but he was far too weak as well. He held an ignorantly firm belief in his reverence to plants, but now cowered with a blade in hand, trying to avoid further confrontation.

  Which meant no more wheedling info of dubious quality out of him. In fact, since introducing yourself first was a sign of respect and there were certainly no signs of respect between the two of us, the elf’s name was yet unknown to me.

  Oh well, there were five others. It’s not like this one would be of any importance. If any were to be elevated to that position, it would be to teach Tagalong Girl the intricacies of their history. Someone in love with the illusion of a past they never experienced would never fit that role.

  Gently stepping out of the mudpit, I didn’t want to hunt down the elves with unerring accuracy. Warning one because I ran into him was fine, but doing any more before I’d properly bought a house would be destabilizing. Even if they were elves, constantly threatening others so soon did not look good.

  Instead, aiming back towards the center of Ullool, I stopped by each workshop and storefront. To leatherworkers and weavers to discuss the purchase of supplies, introducing myself to farmers who needed to preserve food, quickly greeting the guard that stood near the village warehouse.

  To avoid a repeat of what just occurred, I kept my questions light. Open ended questions, centered around the town leadership.

  Gustave was raised as the son of a Disciple, he was the best choice to stay orthodox. Balduin truly loved Ullool, with two general complaints from the people— he ignored its faults(elves and mages) and had the arrogance to think he could improve upon it. Only those truly elderly folks above 60 mentioned Dressen when asked about town leadership.

  While wandering back in the direction Balduin would allegedly be mediating near today, I saw a group of children in their first teen years running around with sticks. It looked to me as if they were heading to the big tree(Reginald— named after someone who died falling off one of its limbs). Had Tagalong been waiting all this time for a crew, or had she already integrated with a group and the two were about to play fight?

  I chuckled at that image. She might hold back from actually injuring them, but they would still be laid out one-sidedly.’I beat them easily for you, why aren’t you having fun’ she would wonder.

  Eager to get her to tell me about her day, I did my best to get time to pass while continuing to progress.