The funeral arrangements are quick, as they’ve all decided to just bury this stranger without much hassle. He wasn’t anyone special, and for all that Scarlett mourns him, she doesn’t plan to hold vigil for long, if at all. The same day he dies, they intend hold a simple funeral.
With the events and preparations of the day, Marcheline has yet to sit down and properly read her stats and shiny new skills. Unlike heroes, a player character has a lot of skills to choose from, unlockable by leveling up or fulfilling certain requirements. The only catch is that she can only choose two for instant casting, and choosing different skills have a cooldown of twenty four hours. She can level up the skills with black diamonds, and these levels are non-transferable between skills.
She will read it more thoroughly during the boring parts of the sermon.
The Church is nice enough to accommodate Old Sam in one of the small chapels. The enormous cathedral three minutes’ walk away is apparently for much grander things, understandably. They’re even nice enough to hold the service, seeing as the camp isn’t really religious, but they’d much rather defer to the Church, their hosts’, er… practices.
Basically, the camp doesn’t want to offend the Church with any pagan practices, and the Church priests are too baffled to say no, even if they’re really busy. Besides, who even knows what Old Sam’s religion was?
In any case, about two dozen people are attending the service, most of them just there out of curiosity. It’s one of the smallest buildings on the Church’s land, but still the nicest interiors most of them have ever seen. The walls and floor are covered in small, glazed tiles. Some areas have religious symbols and events on the pattern of the tiles.
The room is lit by candles, as well as the natural light from the amber-colored glass of the clerestory. There are paintings with bronze frames, complementing the bronze candle holders. The simple benches are made of dyed hardwood, but have plush red paddings.
It’s enough to inspire solemnity in anyone. Marcheline is still a bit twitchy about the long-lasting plague she’s dispelled that morning, and paranoid about disease transmissions within such an enclosed space. At least the nature of diseases here could have something to do with magic. Or magic could affect bacteria and viruses, who knows. What happens if she doesn’t take a bath?
While contemplating:
Level15/???
Phys ATK 130 > 280
Magic ATK 130 > 280
mHP 900 > 2083
Phys DEF 50 > 100
Magic DEF 50 > 100
SPD 100
CRIT 12%
No change in SPD, CRIT, and maximum MP. She needs to figure out how to obtain souls to change that.
Marcheline is at the front row along with Nick and Scarlett, behind them are the various refugees who say they’ve interacted with the deceased once or twice. The sermon proceeds.
It would be inappropriate to say that a funeral service is a funny affair, but nobody’s sure of what they’re doing. Even the nice priest is ill equipped to handle a congregation that is unfamiliar with the entire process. They have to call some sort of apprentice to cue the attendees on what to do.
The Church of Issandor is the most dominant religion in the Kingdom, although the Kingdom itself doesn’t have a state religion, most people are part of this Church. There is a very, very slight discrimination against nonbelievers, but not enough to force heathens to convert immediately.
The camp is filled with such heathens, including Marcheline’s group.
Now, one shouldn’t say that the camp participated in the funeral service with enthusiasm. So they’ll say it’s mere curiosity and respect towards a different culture. But what’s to be expected? Old Sam didn’t have enough friends in the camp, and now the attendees are just filling up the seats of the small chapel. They all hold back their oohs and aahs everytime the apprentice priest would tell them to stand up or sit down, or when the priest brings out incense and wine.
Marcheline has just reached level 15, and instead of verifying her skills and stats, she’s very entertained with watching the interactions around her. The awkwardness when the officiant cues them to reply to a verse, and there’s only confused silence.
It’s like holding a wedding without a rehearsal. Nobody wants to make fun of the proceedings, but they make honest mistakes anyway.
The part to give offerings arrives, and they’ve gathered various foodstuffs for it. They’re later told they should have placed them just on the steps of the altar. One of the older men goes straight to the solemn priest, the latter has his eyes closed and presumably praying, then man nudges the priest with a basket, and hands it over. He also gives the priest a cheerful thumbs up.
Marcheline is currently on the third page of her status window, reading logs from when she was asleep-
Level up…
Level up…
[Skill Acquired! Barrier lvl1]
[Barrier forms…
Her eyes are drawn away from her status window, opting to look at the priest’s shock instead. His hands that are clasped in prayer are currently balancing a fruit basket. The apprentice priest has his back turned, and cannot unburden the guy.
He doesn’t call out, any raised voices would echo within this room, and now the nice priest doesn’t know what protocol to do. The moment stretches, everybody looks to the apprentice, expecting the young man to tell them to sit down.
The priest flounders as Marcheline looks at her two unlocked skills. She’s forgotten all about these early levels, taking for granted that she’s always had access to all of them.
[Barrier creates a large protection circle to prevent the enemy from injuring party members. Fails after a minute, or if it has absorbed damage equal to 10% of the character’s HP. 18sec cooldown]
Level up…
Level up…
…
…
[Skill Acquired! Mana Bolts lvl1]
[Mana Bolts releases a bolt of magical energy to a target, then another to a random enemy. Each bolt deals damage equal to 100% of the character's mATK.]
Oh, so she unlocks them every seven levels? Good to be reminded. She can’t remember what happens when she Upgrades on levels 20 and every five levels after that. She feels dread on how expensive it’s gonna be— exponentially so.
“If the bereaved would like to say a few words…” the officiant says behind his basket.
Everyone turns to Scarlett, Scarlett turns to her. Already reliant and dependent. Compared to her future financial troubles, this one seems easy. Marcheline nods to herself and proceeds to the podium.
“I’ll be speaking on behalf of his young ward. Friends,” Romans, Countrymen - Marcheline begins to quote but realizes she’s drawing a blank on Shakespeare. With her experience as Vice Chieftain, she confidently bullshits with Star Trek.
“We are assembled here today to pay final respects to our” omitting the ‘honored’, “dead. And yet it should be noted that in the midst of our sorrow,” there’s literally no one crying. Even Scarlett is distracted with the venue and the novelty of the rituals, “this death takes place in the shadow of a new life.”
Marcheline is really looking forward to setting up their new village, which she’s inwardly dubbed as their new stronghold. Back at lunchtime, Bodil expressed that she’s getting tired of the envious comments directed at their rations, preserves, poultry and livestock, as well as their simple machines. The worst so far was the talk of dowry and if their village’s girls would like to marry to someone’s son or whatever.
“The sunrise of a new world, a word that our comrade spent his life looking for, and dreaming of.” She edits in nasty humor. “He did not feel this journey vain or empty, and we will not debate the profound wisdom at these proceedings. Of our comrade, I can only say this—“
Now Marcheline does feel solemn for Spock but, “of all souls that we have met in this life, his was truly…” she remembers the disgust, the repulsion she felt— “human.”
