Savanto

Five

PART 2

To deal with the already strict rules and mechanics of fighting monsters in the open is one thing, but the horror of fighting bandits, NPCs with abilities and strategic thinking, was another. I remember dying with my first character to an ambush of the weakest of that scum, they beat me to a pulp and let me die wounded in the depths of the forest. It didn't take long for the beasts of the wilderness to come and finish me off.

—Troy Tomlin "donjuan18", on the Savanto Community Forums.

Santiago and Zamani rode across the desert at a slower pace with the Mosaran patrol than what they had traversed in a single day. The Mosaran riders traveled in a line, with the captain in the middle and the actual guide at the very front. The Shial Warrior-Servant and his loyal Elekron were at the back, "guarding the rear" as the captain put it. The sun scorched the men and tempted them to eat and drink—but they resisted as Santiago observed how they economized their supplies. 

They had only stopped one time to feed and rest, each one of them made sure that their mount ate and drank a ration of water, the realism by which these NPCs abode impressed Santiago as he merely watched them during these breaks—more importantly, he considered his own hunger and thirst stats only to find that they were somehow de-activated. No food from the Mosaran riders came to him, they did not even bother to offer him.

Must be something to do with my race, he thought, but his racial information did not give anything else besides the fact that he could heal himself during the night and under a stary sky and that he was made of a strange material from the mountains called "Hardskin", giving him bonus stats in defense. Hmm, perhaps a Mosaran could not survive a few strikes from the Mangallu... wait, now that I think about it, neither could I.

He analyzed his nearly empty map constantly, seeing how his journey across the desert had already traced a route. Still, there was no tracker for his mission, and as much as he had been immersed in the game, his eyes diverted from the log off button at the same time he checked his user interface.

No rider would speak to him, each one welcoming his attempts to communicate with a cold glare before returning their eyes to the road. Every time he had tried to align his Elekron to one of the riders, the Mosarans would rant aggressive, agitated, and unintelligible words that prompted Santiago to reclusion a the end of the formation. At some point, as they traversed the dunes, he was incredibly bored.

"Master," said Zamani, "I can feel a sense of anxiety from you, is everything ok?"

"Well, nothing is ok, my friend, I have followed these guys for hours and we have marched across the desert for about half a day, the sun is already set at its highest point and I can tell night is coming in a few hours..." He vented out as he stared at the horizon, still yellow, still full of sand, "Is there no end to this accursed desert? How much must we ride until finding our target?"

The patrol suddenly halted, and so Zamani followed abruptly, Santiago almost fell from the move, his spear almost falling from his hand.

"We've stopped, master," Zamani noted.

"You don't say, i***t, next time let me know before you stop like that," Santiago said.

The captain of the riders raised its hand and made a circled yet exaggerated gesture without spouting a word. The riders descended and took out their bottles, their rations. 

"Great... another break," Santiago said, feeling already annoyed. 

"I can tell that this is your first time in the desert master..." Zamani noted, a tone of annoyance at its summoner, "I urge you to be patient, I'm sure we will get to your destination soon."

"We better be, well, let's take out the cloth, I need to lay on something."

"Master, can I go and roam a little bit? I'm hungry."

"Uh... sure thing."

The Elekron grunted in contempt, it proceeded to claw its way into the sand, soon creating a small heap in the sand that moved below it. Given the nature of the terrain, whatever hole Zamani had dug was immediately covered, so Santiago's only companion disappeared without a trace within minutes.

"s**t, I thought he was going to do it on land!" he cursed, as he kicked the sand, "he took my stuff too!"

"He..." a voice said behind him.

"Hmm?" he responded, turning around.

The guide in the patrol was standing in front of him, their face covered by the same cloth the others had, "the Elekron, you referred to it as him."

"Ah... yes," Santiago responded, looking back at the desert—with no sign of Zamani, "I don't put too much thought into the matter."

"You gave him a pronoun that implies it is your equal—it's an animal."

The young, masked man scratched his head, not knowing what to make of those cold comments.

"As I said, I don't put too much thought into it."

"You should, considering your position here," the guide said. 

Santiago felt as if he should feel offended or denigrated by that remark, yet he also wanted to dig deeper into the fact that he was a slave.

"Enlighten me, if you may."

"Such daring words, you are a very strange Warrior-Servant, but I guess I can fancy you for a bit."

The guide's voice was soft, yet distorted for having a cloth cover their words, their figure was slender and small, and differently from the other riders—who wore shield, spear, and sword—the guide only wore a small scimitar, a curved sword that could be easily mistaken as a secondary knife to finish off its felled victims. Their hands moved towards the veil covering their face—a woman of golden eyes, no whites (like the captain), and an opaque orange for skin, revealed herself to Santiago, who stood there speechless.

It was the first time he had witnessed a female NPC in Savanto. Back in the city where he was held, the young man had been beaten so to learn a "lesson" he never truly remembered about authority and was kept in some barracks, where he had been seldom trained in his role as a Warrior-Servant. It was evident now that little did he pay attention to those lessons, as he was concerned about his precarious and seemingly bugged situation, given how he had spawned as a servant and all. Still, the more he played the game that had defeated even the most daring players, the more he felt compelled to explore it. Perhaps this was the magic of Savanto.

The woman gestured Santiago to be seated near the beginning of a dune's slope, albeit she remained several inches away from him. She took out several pomes from her bag and began eating all the while sipping from her canteen so as to help her swallow with a bitter throat.

The realism, man, he thought, still amazed at the detail.

"What are those?" he asked.

"You've never seen dates before? Interesting... what kind of thing do the Shial grow in the Southern Mountains?"

"Eh..."

"Of course you don't know... you guys drink and feed on the night sky, you would never pay attention to the abundance of food in your surroundings."

"I drink from the night sky?" repeated Santiago, looking at his bare, tattooed arms.

The woman munched at another date, looking at the masked man before her with a confused face.

"You are a weird Shial..."

"I thought I was weird for a Warrior-Servant."

"Oh, you are..." She said as she put away the dates she did not want to eat, "The captain is no traveler, and the desert can trick even its most experienced sailor, but even he could tell that you had been aimlessly wandering through the desert for some time."

"Really, how so?"

"Well, you were badly hit by the Managllu, and... well everything, your location was off for a servant with an errand, they normally stick to the caravans, they know their business around these sands, but you... an Elekron rider, alone and nearly dying because of an ambush by the local predators..."

"All right, you got me, I have no idea how to travel this desert! Happy now?"

"Hey, slave!" said a rider, "Next time you speak so boldly in front of her, I'll cut your tongue behind that filthy mask."

The woman looked back towards the rest of the riders. They had set their own drapes and rags in the ground and used the shadows cast by their camels and horses as a safe haven from the sun's watchful eye. 

"That's why I am here, really," she said, ignoring the rider's threat.

"What?"

"I will teach to navigate the sands, at least what I know."

"Really? Would you do that?"

"I've been ordered to do it."

"Oh, I see."

"Don't take it personally, servant, the captain knows that a guy like you, with the weapon and skills your type, could potentially attract ill-intended roamers in the desert, so he wants to dispatch you as soon as we get you closer to Zalm."

"Is my weapon that valuable?"

The guide stared at Santiago, this time in disbelief.

"You can't be serious," she mumbled, "you couldn't possibly ignore that..."

Santiago decided to keep quiet regarding his ignorance of the game, "Forget I said that, please teach me what you can."

"F-fine..." she said, still alarmed.

I get it, this game won't take my hand and walk me through its mechanics, he thought.

The guide took out a scroll from her bag, it was covered by a thick leather, and upon opening it, Santiago noticed it was a map similar to his.

"Let's compare our navigation maps," she said.

The young man pulled his own, although this time he took it out from his inventory rather than opening it up on his interface. The woman looked at both maps and immediately stared at Santiago.

"How long have you been in the desert?"

"This would be my second day."

"I see, Elekrons sure are fascinating creatures," she remarked, "to cover such a long distance without pause... plus a Shial is riding it, I'm impressed."

"Thank you I guess," Santiago said. So it's not all so messy as I tho—

"Although you have been going a bit in circles and you deviated considerably from your destination, servant."

Ah, of course, I did, so it was messy after all.

The woman stretched her hand to reach out for the map, taking it away from Santiago without warning.

"Hey!"

"What?"

"My map!"

"What about it?"

Santiago saw that she had not noticed her rudeness in the act, and so he crossed his arms and joined his knees.

"Nothing, I was just startled."

"Oh, did it bother you that I ripped it off from you? Please don't cry, servant. You are a slave, I don't need to ask permission from you."

"Ugh" he shrugged.

Why a servant, stupid game, why?

"Don't get comfortable, please get closer to me so I can show you what I'll do."

"Ah, um, right!" he said, as he moved his hips closer to see.

The guide stopped him.

"I said stand."

For crying out loud.

She shook her head, annoyed, as she took out a small yet thick graphite stick, and she began scribbling.

"Now, it seems your map has not even placed the most navigational concepts. Please pay attention, as I will not repeat myself."

"Yes."

"As you know, the desert is just a massive land in which the Mosaran Empire rests, extending to miles and miles without end. It would impossible for us to go from one location to another, except for a few cues Mosaran ancestors found about the Mosara.

"There are physical laws that bind this desert, and my ancestors did well in taking note," she drew lightly marked lines resembling wind, "the sand storms that you probably already felt go in a single, concave direction from East to West points. We determine the cardinal points in the desert by using two major changes in the desert's terrain. Further North, the land turns into a yellow grassland—the savannah—while the desert's end on the South is drastically marked by the Southern Mountains—your home, I guess."

This woman... no, this game! he thought, amazed at the intricacies of the desert's navigation.

"Never, ever, use the sand dunes as a point of reference. Their peaks change in size and shape and they serve for no other thing but to confuse travelers," she continued, "Now, the town you came from, according to your map, is the city of Ekur. We come from the capital, Mosrahabbad, which is right here," the guide drew a crude representation of a house and a bigger dwelling resembling a palace to represent both respectively, Both the capital and Ekur were not close to one another, so the patrol had to be there for another purpose other than a routinary job—at least that was what Santiago suspected.

"If my calculations are correct," the woman continued, "Zalm is located southeast from where we are, around this area," she traced the town to a remote location from Ekur, finally revealing the harsh truth of Santiago's quest, for he was way off course.

"I'm an i***t," he uttered.

"You said it, servant," the woman said, as she finished taking notes, "this should help you get right on track, however."

"Use the winds as guidance, I got this."

The guide left the map on the ground, not even bothering to give it back to Santiago as she stood up and walked a few steps towards the rest of the riders.

"Wait!" Santiago said.

The woman stopped, "You are a very unusual Warrior-Servant... a Shial who orders a Mosaran around? Technically, calling out someone who is not a slave, and a potential master to you, is punishable by death. If you did not wear those marks on the mask and arms, showing off that you belong to the Lord of Ekur, I could behead you right here..."

"Regardless, I wanted to thank you, and..." Santiago shrugged, knowing the potential answer, "your name, if I may... ma'am."

The woman slightly turned her head to glimpse at the masked man of Santiago's avatar, then she turned again towards the riders.

One of the riders approached them at the sound of Santiago's call. The woman quickly covered her face before the warrior, who went past her.

"If you won't do it, woman, I'll do it," he said.

"He's the property of the Lord of Ekur, and he was on a mission of his own-"

Her face was slapped by the man, "You sure took a liking for this useless turd, didn't you? Enough to talk back to the Sha's soldiers, hmm? Know your f*****g place little girl, or I'll have my way with you."

That...that asshole! Santiago thought, even stumbling with his own mental words at the scene he was observing.

The woman did not look back at him. 

The rider got closer to Santiago, his spear in hand and grabbing his sword, sheathed in his waist, "The way I see this, this sorry-looking Shial committed an offense to us, and we paid in kind according to the Mosaran Codex. What could he do? He's nothing," he leaned over to meet Santiago's one visible blue eye, "You are nothing, you hear?" 

The young man remained silent, defying the vulgar man, even if it meant his death.

It clearly angered the rider more.

"What could you possibly do, slave? You got saved by your Elekron this morning, and he's nowhere to be seen now. I sympathize with him, you know? The fact of being summoned by the likes of you sickens my stomach, no wonder he had to leave in such a hurry."

Santiago gripped the handle of his spear. He thought of how he could end that sorry excuse of an NPC... but something stopped him—it was all a game, this was not real. Yet, why would he feel like this?

"That's enough." a new voice ordered, the same deep-toned one from the captain, "the Guide is right, he is property of one of the most prominent lords in the empire. Do you really want to take your chances, Sunso? Look at his rod, look at his stats, he's marked by the Lord of Ekur himself, which means people back in that city will notice the moment he dies."

The rider—named Sunso—gritted his teeth at the facts presented to him.

"Everyone, we are covering a few more miles, we ride towards Zalm, drop this slave in the right track, and set to clean the route on the way back!" He ordered.

The riders stood up from their resting places and began setting everything up. Sunso glared at Santiago one last time before leaving for his horse.

"Slave, call that Elekron of yours back to formation," the captain said, then he leaned closer to him, "and please, do not cause any more trouble to the guide."

"Yes, sir."

"Good."

Santiago looked at the woman, the one that refused to give her name, and paid an embarrassing moment due to the young man's 'insolence'.

This is all messed up.

He then lifted his polearm skyward and thrust it to the sand, sending the shockwave he had done at the beginning of his journey to summon Zamani.

"I can't wait to finish this quest," he remarked.

The sun was beginning to turn red, dusk was coming, and then it would arrive; Santiago's worst nightmare so far—the night, with all its horrors and surprises.