Member
Gerrik Far-Teacher
Prophet of Teknall, Apprentice of Stone Chipper
Level 5 Hain Hero
13 Khookies
Across hills and forests hiked Gerrik Far-Teacher, hopping over logs and across rocks with almost supernatural elegance. His locally omniscient Perception and unparalleled mental coordination made all but the roughest terrain seem trivially easy to navigate, and stamina which rivalled every Hain alive helped him maintain a consistent pace.
After he had faced the Horde, Gerrik had departed for distant lands. He had taken up this off-road marathon running method of getting from place to place mostly because it demanded his focus and kept his mind occupied during a time normally given over to idle thought; thoughts which would have undoubtedly been consumed by nightmarish recollections of that battle.
As was his custom and his duty, Gerrik stopped by every Hain village he found and shared what knowledge he had while staying there for several days. In recent times there was less and less new things which new Hain villages didn't know, thanks to the Chippers movement. As such, most new things Gerrik taught were associated with what he had learned from Wind Striker: new weapons and shields, better arrows, and combat techniques. Perhaps with this knowledge they would be able to defend against any future hordes themselves, and thus mitigate the loss of life and villages. Such knowledge might also lead to larger battles between villages, but Gerrik hoped that the tales of the Horde, combined with the fact that all the neighbouring villages would also be similarly equipped to defend themselves, and the natural aversion of Hain to needless murder, would minimise such risks. And, of course, while he was in the villages he also learned what he could, of any technologies or skills they had developed and any stories they had.
This pattern continued, with Gerrik trekking across the countryside, finding a village, teaching that village what he knew, learning what he could, then moving on. Thanks to the Phantasmagoria, many new technologies and skills were present, and Gerrik learned each one he found and carried on that knowledge to others. There were numerous strange things he saw and heard about on this journey. Hain whose bodies had died yet were still moving and thinking. Rumours of a strange lady who healed the needy and a vicious man who slaughtered the haughty. Crystalline trees which the Urtelem cultivated and ate. Stories of a wandering cat with three tails. Sightings of the Life Deer, who now, according to the stories, looked like a tree. Legends of a winged bringer of justice. Tales of a friendly giant who had travelled a great distance. Lakes which were footprints of a massive beast. All these strange new things had flooded into the world, and word of their existence had reached the wandering journeyman's ears.
Yet these tales, while interesting, did not direct Gerrik's path. He remembered his visions during the Phantasmagoria, before he had been forced to deal with the Horde, and along with those visions had come the all-important information of locations. As such, his travels were far from random, but instead taking him to the nearest of these destinations, one which he was convinced had a fairly significant breakthrough. Why else would he have received a vision of it?
So he soon entered the territory of Grinder, and there he discovered a new food- bread. It was quite nourishing, and it would travel well, making it an excellent food for a traveller like himself. However, despite this, no one knew how to make the bread. Instead, they traded their own food for the bread from Grinder.
"Who is Grinder?" Gerrik asked.
"He makes the bread, and sells it to us," one villager answered. "He keeps us fed during the winter, but demands at least twice as much food in return once spring comes."
On hearing this, Gerrik wasn't sure whether to be angry at the extortion or impressed at the intelligent business model.
"Isn't it unfair for him to keep such knowledge secret?" Gerrik inquired.
The villager shrugged. "I guess. There's not much we can do about it, though."
Gerrik stayed in the village for a few days longer, teaching as normal, although tacitly omitting the knowledge of warfare, before moving to Grinder's village. There he made himself known as normal, and soon he received an invitation from Grinder to visit him personally.
Grinder's house was a long triangular prism shaped hut, with a wooden frame covered in hides. It was the largest in the village, and smoke constantly rose from within. As Gerrik entered, there was a wooden table with wooden chairs around it, with Grinder sitting upon a large chair with ornaments of tusk and bone. Upon this table was a feast, an amount of food of a scale Gerrik had only ever seen for the feeding of a whole village. A curtain divided this house into two, behind the curtain being Grinder's personal space and including his bread-making oven and equipment. And sitting behind the feast was Grinder himself, the fattest hain Gerrik had ever seen.
"Gerrik Far-Teacher, heir of Stone Chipper, come in! Sit down," Grinder greeted with a bellowing laugh.
Gerrik curtly nodded before taking a seat. "Thank you for your hospitality, Grinder."
Grinder picked up a handful of berries and shoved them in his mouth, dark juice running down his beak. He gestured to the food in front of them both. "Please, eat. Anything for the chief of the Chippers."
Gerrik picked up a roasted birb, but hesitated. In the villages around here they struggled to have enough food to eat, and even within the range of his Perception there were families who were sitting down to only a meagre meal, yet here he was, in front of enough food to feed a single hain for weeks. It just seemed so unfair. It was only reluctantly that Gerrik bit into his meal.
"You mention the Chippers," Gerrik commented. "I take it that you yourself are a Chipper?"
"Indeed. I support the Chippers. I am quite fond of the new knowledge they always bring, although personally travel has never appealed to me," Grinder answered.
"That is fine. The life of a nomad is a tough one, and not for everyone," Gerrik replied, "although it has its perks." As they ate, Gerrik told Grinder tales he had learned on his travels, and Grinder was deeply impressed.
Grinder wiped some fat from his chin and said, "These stories you tell are quite incredible. I'm afraid I have no such stories to tell in return."
Gerrik tore off a piece of bread. "Well, there is one thing."
"What is it?" Grinder asked.
"How do you make bread?" Gerrik asked.
Silence.
"Is there a problem?" Gerrik probed.
Grinder was silent a little longer before answering, "You see, the thing is, the secret of bread making is that, a secret. It would be no good if everyone were to know it."
"No good for you, you mean," Gerrik jabbed.
Grinder's mouth edged open into a snarl. "And what of it? Got to look out for myself."
"And you call yourself a Chipper?" Gerrik retorted. "Chippers share knowledge. You can not simply take and take and give nothing in return."
"I give them bread made by my own hands when there is no other food, and in return they give me food when there is excess," Grinder replied.
"Yet you don't do this out of generosity, but greed," Gerrik argued. "You keep the ways of bread making secret so you can hold your fellow hain under your heel."
Grinder's fist slammed down onto the table, a bowl of water splashing over. "Enough!" he shouted. Gerrik's countenance was unmoved.
Grinder withdrew his clenched fist and took a deep breath. "Let us forget about the whole thing," Grinder suggested. "There is still food to eat."
Gerrik pushed his chair back and stood up. "Actually, I think I am done here." He turned to exit through the curtain which led outside. "By the way, you are no Chipper." Then Gerrik left the hut, having spoke in defiance of the local tyrant. He collected his belongings and left the village that same hour. He had been there long enough to observe Grinder's bread making methods with his Perception, and he would take this knowledge to every village beyond Grinder's reach.
Perched atop a rocky outcrop, Gerrik surveyed the golden savanna cast in the orange light of sunset while he chewed on a loaf of dense bread. His quest was far from over, for other places had been revealed to him on that night of phantoms. His gaze looked southwards, to lands inhabited in part by those strange people known as fiberheads. Strange new lands awaited.
