[SOLO] In Search of Knowledge

[Conor]

66th of winter, 509 AV

A day after he had met one of the most strange and kind persons he had ever seen, Conor was walking through the streets again. This time, he had a goal however, he wanted to learn all about Syliras. Guided tours, that was something they simply had to invent here, it would be so much easier for the starting adventurers to learn more about their surroundings. But now, Conor was simply strolling about, boldly asking commoners if they had a moment to spare to give him an explanation. Most of them responded rather badly, and some of them even scolded at him. One of them even ran away from him, screaming something like: “I don’t want your diseases, you beggar!” That simple sentence made the citizens form a makeshift quarantine around Conor. It was easier to move through the crowds now, but people avoided him until he was three blocks away from the place of the incident.

This wasn’t going to work, most civilians had a job to go to – and some of them were already busy with it, even though it was damn early. But what else could he do? Maybe he was trying it the wrong way, maybe he needed to be pickier in whom to ask for information. Perhaps he should’ve limited his targets to older and wiser man who would love to tell their stories. Older men who were glad that someone finally wanted to listen to their stories – stories that they had told many times before. But it was too early to meet such men, most of them were still getting out of their cozy beds, complaining about the ache in their joints or grumbling about the cold winter. Indeed, it wasn’t the best season for old folks to leave their heated homes.

But Conor wasn’t going to quit; no, if there was anything that he had learned from his father, it was that persistence led to success. “Excuse me,” he confronted a resident , “Do you have a moment to spare?” The man – a fat one with rosy cheeks and three chins – started to whine instantly, like it was his sole purpose in life. “Do I look like I have time to spare? We can’t all be lazy lay bouts like you!” Now it was Conor’s turn to become infuriated: “Yes, you seem more like the working type. You seem very fit and muscled!” The man looked like he was going to explode any time now, but instead, he just left, mumbling various obscene threats. Conor grinned and returned to his search.

[Conor]

66th of winter, 509 AV

An hour passed without any results… The citizenry of Syliras was as irritating as he had thought, but now they really were driving him mad. It did surprise him how bold they were in the face of an armed man. But perhaps it was his age that wrong footed them. He was after all merely an adult, and to most of them he just was yet another foolish young man that was squandering his life away over some stupid adventure that would get him killed. But Conor wasn’t about to give up; if he did do so, then why would he continue his journey? Persistence was every adventurer’s friend, and so Conor kept asking people for knowledge. He did realize that he looked kind of silly, but there were no libraries in Syliras – none that he knew of anyway.

“Excuse me, good man,” Conor said. An old man with a wrinkled face and watery eyes gazed upon him. His hair was unkempt and his back was a bit arched. “yes?” the man asked. He coughed a few times, clearly the winter wasn’t his favorite season. “I was wondering if you could tell me a bit more about Syliras, about its culture and history,” Conor asked politely. The man didn’t answer immediately, instead, he coughed a few times more – it was as his chest was going to collapse under all that pressure. The man started to shake a bit, but then he answered: “I would love to do so, my friend,” he said. “But… this weather is killing me.” Conor nodded, and was about to leave, when he decided to lend the man some help.

“I’ll escort you back to your house, and in exchange you could tell me some of the stories?” The man nodded gratefully, and euphoria took a hold on Conor. He lend the man his cloak, and as they were walking, the man leaned on Conor with most of his weight. “I’m sure you know of the Valterrian,” the man started. Conor nodded again, yes he knew of that event. Even in Taldera that was one of the most told tales there were. He listened carefully to what the man had to say about the history of Syliras.

[Conor]

66th of Winter, 509 AV

The man’s storytelling skills had been honed over the decennia, and as he told Conor about the Valterrian – even though Conor had already heard of that tale – he listened intently. The story started with a war between two huge empires, clawing at each other’s border. But then, a woman became involved, and the war escalated. War’s were usually fought and started by men, but woman were usually the cause. Certainly if those women were beautiful enough to drive men jealous, and even more so if their breasts functioned like glue to men’s eyes. Conor shrugged, complicated times it were. And then the story evolved into a massacre with thousands and thousands of innocents dying cruel and tormenting deaths. The whole of Mizahar had been reformed and the continent was never to be the same again. Only now was humanity – and the other races as well – recovering from the terrible wounds inflicted to society during the Valterrian.

“I have a question”, Conor suddenly asked out of the blue. “Did the gods really wander the surface of Mizahar?” The old man smiled deviously and then said: “Yes they were, and they massacred thousands.” It was clear that he enjoyed to tell such a dramatic story, and his eyes twinkled when Conor criticized the gods: “What kind of sick and twisted gods are those? They murdered most of the population of Mizahar in their holy war for what reason? One woman was valuable enough to make thousands – mark my words, even millions – die while suffering? And why didn’t they just kill the culprits, why did the rest of Mizahar had to pay as well?” The man simply shrugged and answered: “The ways of the gods are not ours to comprehend.” That response made Conor bristle with anger, but he kept his mouth shut. He didn’t want to repel the man away.

“So then the Syliran knights built this city, a city of justice, protected by fierce and loyal warriors,” the man said. He took his time to explain who had had the idea, and he mentioned that a Konti had been evolved. What was a Konti? Conor thought. But he didn’t ask his question. He wanted to end this talk, he wanted to collect all the lore in his mind and then he wanted to leave. His capability to control anger was decreasing and making a public scene wasn’t something he fancied.