315 215 – God of Eel Lake
Plotline: Main
Type: Social Conflict
Please let me state here a few things I would soon learn.
Spotted Eel Lake is, as one might suspect, named after the spotted eels that eat the paltry fish there. The eels taste terrible, especially for the nutrition they provide. They are eaten by the Elder Spotted Eels, the adult form of that species. Those, in turn, were eaten by the River God, whom I’m about to get to, just not next.
The entire lake was artificial, and existed only because of the Eel river dam, which powered not one, but two massive mills, one for grain and the other for lumber. (And if you want to throw your logistical brain into revolt, that timber came in by land, and finished lumber out by boat. Because structural rating and other properties, not just because humans were being... anyway, there were reasons for this apparent madness.
In the middle of the lake lived the River God. Part frog, part eel, part fish, and all hungry, she predated the lake, and had been a continual source of fatalities for those who wanted to fish the lake’s depths, where most of the eels lived.
Residents of the lake, imaginatively named NorthWestern Spotted Eel Lake and SouthEastern Spotted Eel Lake, generally hated and feared her.
So, naturally, they assumed that the scaled horror that came from inland could only be her spawn, or worse, her mate.
Remember how much I hated that my highest ranked subskill was Shield Block? It was life’s little reminder that maybe I should appreciate shields more.
.....
Fishing spears aren’t truly made for combat, and especially aren’t meant to be thrown at targets roughly at stomach high. Didn’t stop them from trying, I can say that much for their fishermen.
It took me over a dozen curse words to convince them that I was actually able to talk.
“You can talk?” one of them asked. “Release Mr. Ming immediately!”
I looked at the young man I was holding underwater by standing on him. “Is this Mr. Ming?”
“It is. Release him immediately, or we shall kill you.”
“Which differs from your plans now in what manner?” I asked, but let him stand and gulp in air noisily.
“Hey, he wears the black band! We should be able to kill him without resistance.” a woman shouted.
Wait, they were just recognizing this now? Just how sun-addled had their brains become? As soon as that thought crossed my mind, I realized I didn’t want to know.
“I’ll get him, mother!” another young man screamed, promptly throwing a spear far off to my left, in a move that tripped him over the side of the boat.
“Uwug.” I said, letting my posture slump. “Look, I only need enough of your river to pass, and only long enough to stop and deliver a message. If you can refrain from killing me that long, I’ll gladly be on my way downriver.”
“Ah-ah! It is the cursed one who seeks the downfall of saintly Lord Xaodong! Kill him now!”
“I don’t seek...” But the spears were in the air again, and for a time, that was the limit of our conversation.
Then I began throwing the spears back. It was my first miss at their ringleader that began the conversation again.
“Village elder!” called one.
“Mother!” called another.
“You don’t get to call me that, not until you can make a throw capable of hitting that thing!” she replied.
I had missed, of course, passing over her shoulder just under the mid-point of her ear. I didn’t see what the big fuss was about, but that didn’t stop me from whirling to meet a teenage woman charging me from behind.
I caught her spear on my shield, and kept turning, hoping to spin her off balance. Instead, she released her spear, turning her charge into a tackle. We both went sprawling into the shallows, her hands seeking my windpipe.
Well, I wasn’t about to just be held there while other spearfolk charged in. I activated Titanic Swimming, and kicked off into deeper waters.
Remember when Zinzelle taught me that if you can’t breathe, you can’t fight? That bitch tried to prove her wrong, clawing for my throat and eyes.
Tried.
In the end, I was a class bearing Pankratios, which meant everything up close and personal.
I dragged her unconscious form to the surface with me, towed her into the path of one of the boats, and then made haste back to my previous position.
Not that it was a good position, you understand. But there were over two dozen spears in the area. Spears I really couldn’t afford to let them throw repeatedly. Check any skill often enough, and it will fail.
“Fall back!” the Mother Elder called out, and they did.
It gave me time to count spears; twenty seven, only six of them with dents where I had deflected them with my shield.
I bound them together, and made my way to the docks. Turns out that even buoyed by water, a load like that will slow you down.
“I have your spears, if we are done with the needless skirmish.” I called out from what I hoped was beyond bow range.
“Leave, cursed snake! He whose voice rings out beneath the deep earth, and whose will devours villages.”
I sighed. If they could confirm they’d heard the elemental message, then perhaps I could just skip over this village.
I was spending too much time paying attention to the village; the River God nearly took me by surprise. I say nearly, because one of my toes ended up in her nostril, and my instinctive flailing kept me from falling whole into its fanged mouth. Nice, conical teeth, I observed, not a single one flat, for the grinding of plant matter.
My original impression was that of a catfish, but grown to the size of an orca. I slid past a slitted yellow-green eye as I came loose of its front.
Holy... Gods... It was huge, larger than the lake should sustain. I grabbed on and clung to it as though my life depended on it. Hungry as it was, it probably would have eaten me.
[You have succeeded at a Might/Athletics/Riding/Ride Streamlined Aquatic.]
Great. Great. Thanks, System...
I flashed my telepathy into it.
she said.
I sent her a party invite, surprised when she accepted. I flashed out my Detect Beasts power, one of my few Hunter abilities. And, for a time, lived without fear.
For a time.
, she said again.
Well, history records words far more elegant than mine, and makes it sound like the River God just tore the dam asunder to get to her home in the ocean.
In reality, I convinced her to swim me close enough to the dam to break into the toolshed of one of the mills, and demolish enough of the dam after nightfall that the river did the rest. The effect was the same; it took them just over two weeks to restore the lake, with a diminished population of eels.
Legend also gets wrong that I rode the Sea God all the way to the sea; I spent a day backtracking, and going around the troops that had responded to Spotted Eel Lake’s emergency.
Most prospective holy people are deterred upon realizing the ritual to consecrate a properly attuned Node to your deity takes a year and a day to take effect. The Water Node I’d noticed earlier was right at the lip of the Sea God’s lair.
Unclaimed.
So I started the same ritual I had outside of Neo Esteban, and trusted the locals to just not interfere.
And I chased my thoughts round and round and round about the new complications, and how the heck was I even going to circulate and deliver the elemental’s message. Of course, the solution was obvious. I just didn’t like it.
It was Ping who joined the rebuilding efforts at the dam, who “rapidly learned” the arts of woodscraft and construction. And who, upon learning that someone else was cooking and imbuing the food, had to suppress the urge to dance in sheer happiness.
And, with the lumberjacks, the carpenters, and the millers (whose name is Huan, which is important because of Monk Huan) each believing they fed Ping all his meals, I managed to get enough nutrition to survive.
I should have just ridden the dang River God down to the sea.
“Hey, Ping.” said sergeant Gu Han, “Come over here and talk to an old man for a bit.”
“Uhm, okay.” I said. The soldiers generally let us do what we needed to, but when they spoke, people listened. “How may I help the effort, honored elder?”
“The effort is pretty much done, Ping. And that means the free food is going away, too.”
I nodded. “I have managed to manufacture a set of tools, and a pair of spears. I should be able to feed myself.”
“That’s the thing, Ping. I don’t want you to have to feed yourself. What if I told you that your skills could earn you enough to feed a small family?”
“I would ask why there are so few fat lumberjacks, honored sergeant.”
Zinzelle was a centaur, and would have been proud of Ginshin La’s efforts to kill me. That said, they were of different personalities, coloration, and species. Yay me, bringing together people from different walks of life.
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