The door to the print shop stands before me. Pushing it open reveals the interior of the shop. Its filled with shelves and desks having paper stacked in bundles scattered throughout, The smell is also rather unpleasant with a strong aroma of grease. From the back of the building comes sounds of work, with the grunts of men, beating of leather against wood, and the movement of paper.

   It would be rude to just walk into their backroom unannounced, "Hello? I'm looking for a Mister Karus!"

   The rhythm of the men's labor slows down and a voice responds, "Come on back I can't hear you from out there."

   The backroom is far more open with plenty of open windows letting in light and air. There are two men in the room working a printing press. They're dressed in linen with black aprons. Ink stains are visible on some of the light parts of their clothing. The men working the machine are in sync. The first one uses two bell shaped leather tools to apply ink to metal letters that have been set on part of press. Once he's finished, the second man puts a damp paper into a holder that is hinged to the same contraption holding the inked letters. With the paper in he flips it onto the letters and secures it. Sliding the holder underneath the press, he pulls a large lever and lowers the press onto the paper. Pulling the holder back out and removing the paper he grabs a large paddle. Using it to move the damp paper onto one of the many racks hanging from the ceiling.  The racks are filled with dozens of drying pages. While the paper is being hung the first man is back to reapplying the ink.

   The second man seeing me, stops with the work, "I am Narb, and you're the dryad?"

   My hood is down, but I have the feeling he would've known who I was regardless, "Yes, I'm here looking for Karus."

   Narb uses the apron to wipe the sweat off his hands, "He's out taking care of things that require his attention, He wont return till afternoon for his lunch."

   Karus did say he had someone new working for him he had to take care of, "I'm sure its important business, but I don't have half the day to waste."

   He scratches the back of his head. "Nothing can be done about that, he's already rode out of town to the field."

   It would be a waste of time to try and find him then, "Very well, I shall return."

   The door closes behind me. This would be the time for me to take in dealing with my secondary objective, Delivering the letter to the church. Problem with this is that I haven't the clue where it is. Nor what it would resemble. I have seen the repurposed church of the Jord village, but there wasn't much on the exterior that gave it away as such. 

   Moving through the streets, there are many different trades to the sides. A butcher's shop having an assortment of fowl like and hare like animals strung up. A tailor with wood mannequins dressed in modest apparel in the front and seamstresses at work in the back. A smaller structure with racks displaying belts which assumedly houses a beltmaker. further down the street are the establishments of a cobbler, mason, tanner, carpenter, and a blacksmith. 

    Getting past the blacksmith's there is a rather unusual building. typically man-made structures have many straight lines and angles. This one however has no straight lines. The wooden beams are all bent, bowing outwards and then bowing inwards as one follows their length. The roof as well appears to be a circle. At the front above a set of rounded doors is a large stone plate engraved with two lines circling around to it's center. From inside comes the sounds of music. A strange melody composed from strings of a harp, the whistle of a flute, and the bangs of a drum. 

   I can't imagine a concert hall existing in this kind of place. The building also feels to be imbued with a symbolic presence. If this isn't the church I haven't the faintest idea as to what it is. 

   The door opens to a oval room. That stretches from one side of the building to the other. The left and right side of the room each have a door. Lines of curved pews fill the space, and at the opposite end is a raised partition. Light comes in through the ceiling from a ring of windows centered on the roofs highest point. Ten statues are space equally around the room. Each appearing to depict a different person. 

   On the raised partition sits a few minstrels¹A medieval entertainer with their instruments, and a small choir. They don wimples²A cloth wound around the head, framing the face, and drawn into folds beneath the chin, worn by women in medieval times and as part of the habit of certain orders of nuns upon their heads and on their bodies are grey colored gowns with loose fitting sleeves. 

   A middle aged man is standing at the front is dressed in a brown garb held tight at the waist by a belt. He vociferates³To utter (something) or cry out loudly and vehemently, especially in protest at the people gathered, "You All Are Performing In A Most Spirited Manner, AND That Is Terrible!" The palms of his hands are placed against his head, "This is to be performed in front of Bishop Artun." The man's mouth lets out an exasperated sigh, "THEE Bishop that is known for his incredible dedication in the principles of humility and hardship." He points to the woman playing the harp, "I see you glancing behind me. Are you nervous, because you know you're being too cheerful, playing that harp while grinning!"

   She peeks at me before quickly returning her attention back to the man, "N-No Deacon⁴A cleric ranking just below a priest Amos, there's a hooded man behind you."

   Amos turns around, "So there is." His eyes trace me up and down, "Now This Is More What I'm Looking For." Nodding his head in approval he half turns back to the group, "Look at him! He comes in here wearing poorly sewn together hides. He doesn't look like his life has been easy. This is what you need to appear as. Next practice you all are to come dressed in your worst attire, I want you all to look miserable."

   I've never been insulted and also held up as an example of what to strive for at the same time, "It seems as though I've been of help to you, could I ask of something in return?"

   He shows me little regard and waves off the people he's been instructing, "It's about time we brought this session to a close, so go back to doing your daily chores." When he's seen the last of them out of the room he addresses me, "What is it that you wished to ask?"

   I retrieve the envelope from my bag, "I've been sent to deliver a message from Trijen to the leader of this congregation. I ask that you bring me to him."

   He peers at the envelope I hold and the intent behind his eyes is all too clear, "There's no need to trouble Priest Mallen with that, I am just as capable of handling a request from Sir Trijen."

   Although he has no way of knowing what is written in the letter, his rapacious⁵Having or showing a strong or excessive desire to acquire money or possess things; greedy. gaze implies otherwise. I should avoid letting him have it, "I had specific instructions on who to give this too."

   For a moment there is a brief souring of his expression, "That is very well, but I can hardly let any stranger just meet with the priest as the please and especially one dressed in worse than rags." With a slight grin he continues, "So, you should kindly hand the message over to me."

   He is insistent, getting him to take me to the priest is unlikely. Though maybe not necessary, "The people in here earlier, most exited through the front door and a few through the door on the left side of the room. However, no one went through the right door."

   A frown forms on his face creating a puzzled expression, "Of course they wouldn't those are private quarters, but why are you saying this?"

   I feel a slight upwards pull on the corners of my lips, "The private quarters of who?"

   The frown changes into a scowl, "I'll have no more of your questions, Leave!"

   He's realized his mistake, but its too late as I already know where the priest is. I do as Amos asks and leave. Being outside the building I walk around the right side. There are round windows that latch from the inside, placed slightly above head level. Stretching, I peer through one. There's a small room with a simple wool stuffed bed, a wooden trunk with leather decal, and a large wood box with hinges acting as wardrobe. The room is empty of occupants.

   Through the next window is an office, with filled bookshelves, stacked cabinets, and an engraved desk. Behind the desk sits an old bald man in white vestments with a yellow mantle⁶A mantle is a type of loose garment usually worn over indoor clothing to serve the same purpose as an overcoat. Technically, the term describes a long, loose cape-like cloak worn from the 12th to the 16th century covered in blue concentric circles. He's intently focused at writing upon a sheet of parchment.

   Tapping my knuckles against the glass, he is startled by the sound and looks to the window. Spotting me, he gets up and gives a stretch that elicits pops loud enough to be heard through the glass. Opening the window he squints the light blinding him, "It's been a long time since I last had a stranger appear at my window. Most people come through the front door when they're looking for a priest. What business do you have with me?"

   I hold the envelope up to the window, "I've been asked to deliver this to you by Trijen."

   He grasps it and before even opening it he says, "I did really hate when I was told to inform Trijen that no one would be assigned to his village, but what was I to do when the command came from an Archbishop." Breaking the wax seal he reads the letter while voicing his thoughts, "Oh, this is another matter altogether. Its strange though this is the first time I've handled one of these, and it's from a small village and not this town."

   Then there's no one from this town with a mutation? I did hear Zeena has one, but her name does sound foreign. Regardless, "If that's all I'll be going."

   He dismissively replies, "Go on, this matter is for me to deal with now."

   The sun is quickly approaching its peak, signifying noon is soon to come. Returning to the print shop without interruption, I open the front door. There is no sound coming from the back of the shop this time. The workers must be having their lunch. Past the stacks of paper, and at the top of a staircase hidden by them, a door creaks open.

   From within the room the door opened to comes the voice of Karus, "The guild doesn't have enough work for you?"

   Narb must've told him I was coming, "Perhaps, what do you have?"

   He gives a chuckle, "Haha, not much better for someone who's an outsider. However I did just finish preparing the deforesting monitors."  His voice changes to sound like he's mimicking an intellectual, "Everyone knows undead don't like sunlight, but not everyone realizes how much protection is offered to from the sun with such simple things as trees, or so I was once told." The tone of his speech softened at the end of that thought, but it strengthens as he continues, "For such reasons I am given the privilege by the baron to manage the control of the forestry within the battlefield."

   Weird thing to have such strong feelings about, "What is the relevance of this?"

  "Well you can remove the trees from..." He shuffles some papers,  "Sector twelve and I'll pay you three wholes. for your information the sectors are marked with blue stones."  

   Three wholes are twelve loaves of bread if i am recalling Gilliam's words correctly, "I'll do it, but the pay seems like a lot, just how many trees do you need removed?"

   "Well for a grown man it'd take him a week at least, but I assume you'll have a much faster time of it." He says this with mirth⁷Gladness and merriment, especially when expressed by laughter..

   I could definitely do it faster, but the wood wouldn't be usable for more than kindling, "Does the condition of the lumber matter? And I just recalled I forgot last we met, but I met Mari and she said to tell you she's doing fine."

   "The remains of the trees matter little, of importance is their removal."  Exhaling he continues, "Mari, I'm glad she's doing well, but I wish things were different for her. I think she left her copy of a book you should gloss over down there..." He pauses, "It has a green spine with silver letters and is on the bookshelf near the door. It should be helpful for a first timer. I'm sure she wouldn't mind you using it."

   Looking at the bookshelf, I find Field Studies I by Karad matching the description, "Thanks I'll be back for the payment soon."

Armored99

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