Bog Standard Isekai

Book 3. Chapter 38

Before they could completely leave the marketplace, a man started shouting. His voice cut through the air like a knife, making it clear that Skills were at work. This was a professional. Looking around for the source of the disturbance, Brin saw him up above.

A neat little platform on top of a staircase rose above the market on the far side, and the shouting man looked very official. He wore a blue uniform with bits of stylized armor, a shining silver breastplate, greaves and shinguards, and a winged helmet. [Inspect] called him a [Herald].

Most people in the square turned to watch him, though a few determined people kept to their haggling. The quality of his voice itched against Brin’s Mental Resistance and made it difficult to concentrate on anything else.

Just to be stubborn, he pretended to ignore the [Herald] and asked, “Who’s that? Is [Herald] different from a [Crier]?”

“Way different,” said Davi. “[Criers] work for the city, but they’ll mostly say whatever anyone pays them to say. You can even hire them to run advertisements. [Heralds], though, only work for the king. That man up there is the same rank as a [Knight].”

So it sounded like this was the equivalent of a national news outlet rather than a local one. Or maybe more like a propaganda bulletin.

“And he just gets to shout at us all and we have to take it?”

Davi shrugged. “You don’t have to. You can ignore him if you can ignore him.”

“Hush, I’m trying to listen!” said Zilly.

“--completely safe. In fact, a caravan arrived in town only yesterday, which completed a successful circuit of the entirety of the boglands without a single death or injury. Even solo travelers have been seen entering the city! Monster sightings have become extremely scarce, and the crown is pleased to announce that all bandits in the area have been killed or captured. There has never been a better time for trade and commerce!”

Davi snorted in amusement, and Sion actually laughed.

“Whoa. What’s this guy on?” asked Brin.

Zilly snickered. “No injury? Wow, awesome to learn I didn’t get any injuries. Someone tell all these scabs to close up, because apparently they don’t exist.”

“Technically you weren’t part of the caravan,” said Brin.

“Yeah, but lots of other people in the caravan got injured. Plus, what’s this garbage about solo travelers?”

“Technically you were a solo traveler,” said Brin.

Zilly shook her head. “It’s a bunch of rot is what it is.”

The [Herald] continued. “His excellency King Lancarote, High King of Frenaria, is pleased to announce victory over the Queendom of Arcaena. Their army in the Boglands was found and destroyed in its totality by a group of brave heroes, led by the [Archmage] Lumina! Arcaena’s total surrender is currently being negotiated by our allies in Olland, but the crown expects nothing less than a world finally free of [Witches]!”

These lies were a little less easy to snark away. He looked at Zilly, but she just shook her head in disgust.

That was the story they were going with? Because that undead army was still out there. They’d destroyed a significant amount of undead in Hammon’s Bog, but that was only a fraction of what Arcaena could bring to bear since they’d found a Burrow Kingdom. And he knew the King knew about that; he’d told Lumina and she’d sent messengers back to the capitol immediately. Why were they acting like it was all over? The fact that they had no idea where the bulk of Arcaena’s army was should have everyone scurrying around looking for a trace. Instead they’d chosen to hide their heads in the sand.

And why was the [Herald] not mentioning Hammon’s Bog? He was saying the undead weren’t an issue, but Brin’s hometown had fought an entire war against them. There was no way Frenaria had swept it under the rug. In fact, Brin knew they hadn’t, because word of their war with the undead is what had convinced all those recent immigrants to join them. Most had been from other smaller Bog towns, but a few had been from here in Oud’s Bog.

The [Herald] did eventually speak about Hammon’s Bog, but then Brin wished he hadn’t.

“Never to say that we can lower our vigilance. We must never let our total victory against the undead lead us to complacency, as a small town called Harmon’s Bog recently learned. Their casualness and relaxitude led to a small outbreak of undead that left more than a dozen dead, and was only brought to a close by swift action by kingdom officials!”

The words passed over the group like a dark cloud. Brin felt himself go cold, while Zilly grimaced in anger, her eyes wild. Davi clenched his hand around the neck of his Oud so tightly that Brin worried he would break it.

Only Sion was unaffected, although he noticed the effect on the group. “What–?”

“Not here,” said Davi, and turned, marching away.

Brin followed, and they marched up the road, angrily stomping away from the kingdom’s lies. A few people saw the expression on Davi’s face and his quick pace and moved out of the way.

“I take it there were quite a few more casualties than twelve?” asked Sion.

“Add a zero to that number there, chief. And then double it,” said Brin.

“Ah.”

"He didn't even get our name right. He called us Harmon's Bog," Zilly fumed.

"There must be another town called Harmon's Bog. Because that didn't sound like us at all," Brin said.

The walked in furious silence for another block until Sion asked, "What really happened?"

Davi spoke. “They cut us off, a silent embargo hiding in the forest. They never announced themselves, we just knew that anyone who went into the forest wouldn’t come back. It went on for months like that. When they finally came, they were ten thousand strong. Armored undead soldiers, archers, even giants. They hacked at our gates from the outside while their [Witch] infiltrators undermined our defenses from the inside. When Lumina arrived, our walls had fallen, our best fighters were cursed or dead, and we were huddled up together in the town square for one last stand. We thought the few we could fit in the temple for sanctuary were the only ones who would survive.”

“Whoa. You’ve been practicing that,” said Brin.

Davi snorted in amusement, though still clearly angry at the [Herald’s] fake news. “A little.”

“I’m sorry,” said Sion. “I had no idea it was that bad.”

“It’s fine. Part of this is our fault,” said Davi.

“How so?”

“Well, there’s a reason that Jeffrey hasn’t finished the epic of Hammon’s Bog, and it’s not writer’s block or searching for a muse or any nonsense like that. He says he’s waiting until the time is right.”

“What? That’s stupid,” said Zilly.

“I know!” Davi ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. Then he thought better of it and tried to smooth his hair out again.

Brin quickly summoned a cheap card-sized hand mirror and handed it to him, which he used to slightly better success.

“What? Give me one!” said Zilly.

“You can have this one,” said Davi, and handed it over.

Zilly peered at it. “Oh gross. I look like crap. They didn’t have mirrors in the inn I stayed at.”

They both laughed, which served to diffuse some of the bad air, though Brin couldn’t quite get over it completely. He kept thinking back to how he’d stood alone, facing Siphani by himself to save the town trapped in her Wyrd array. That had meant something, hadn’t it? He hadn’t expected to be a celebrity or anything, but he’d thought people would have at least heard of that battle.

“I still don’t get why the King is so set on hushing all this up. The bandits and monsters, too,” Brin complained.

Sion shrugged, and neither Davi nor Zilly had an answer either.

They walked across the city, with the brick walkways and bridges, and the stately homes and businesses. The city was organized and in its place, and if you lived here, it would probably be hard to believe the madness and danger that waited in the forest only a few miles away.

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When they got to the [Bards’] Terrace, Brin’s first impression was a huge garden the size of a football field. It was in a natural style, with little ponds and streams, as well as little hillocks and mounds. Stone walkways traced their way up and down the garden, traveling through several gondolas and pavilions and over the streams in happy little arch bridges.

Music was everywhere, gliding through the trees and around the bushes, played from a dozen different [Bards] spread out through the area. Crowds of hundreds moved from [Bard] to [Bard] while others just strolled through the park. People had no compunction against traveling off the paths or setting up blankets for picnics, which made Brin sure that some high level [Gardener], or maybe a team of [Gardeners] was tending the place. The grass was lush and green everywhere, and showed no signs that the crowds traveling around were thinning it out or stressing it at all.

“So I was thinking we could wander around a bit to see what our competition is like, and then I could set up and get started,” said Davi.

No one had any problems with that, other than Marksi. He clearly didn't see the point in wandering around looking at humans making human sounds. Instead, he found himself a nice flat rock in the sun and curled up for a nap.

The rest of them made a round. The first group they traveled to was a pair of [Bards], both of them strumming ouds. They sang a song that sounded like what Brin would call medieval in his old world. It was only a step up from gregorian chant because of the ouds they both played, and from the fact that their two parts seemed to have very little to do with each other. The man sang, “Sancta Solia whose goodness flows as a stream” while the woman sang, “Nedramus illustratus, supports as the banks of a river.” Each syllable rose and fell through so many notes that by the time they wandered past the two of them were still working on those first two sentences.

The next group was slightly more modern, in that it sounded like it came from three hundred years ago instead of five. Three [Bards], all with ouds, sang together in baroque polyphony. Their voices wandered up and down, more intent on showing off their technical skill than actually conveying a tune.

After traveling a little further, he found that most of the [Bards] were like that last group. Brin could appreciate it on a technical level, but after three or four groups like that, it started to wear on him. Zilly was noticeably tiring as well.

“All this music is giving me a headache,” she said.

The few solo [Bards] mostly played sonnets. Music where the music was only out of necessity, and all the focus was on the words. “A thousand thousand years ago, a man discovered the first flower and Oh! He adored it. Oh! For love!”

Drivel.

The overall atmosphere was nice though. When they were in between any specific groups the music sort of blended into each other and it was easier to notice the beautiful garden and the mild weather. It was a fairly pleasant day, after all.

One thing Brin was sure about: this wasn’t what he’d expected at all.

When they completed their circuit and regrouped under the shade of a willow tree, Brin said, “Man, Davi, you’re going to wipe the floor with these jokers. Why are they all playing the same thing? To me, a [Bard] means epic ballads, or tragedies, or love songs, or even dance music. None of these [Bards] grabbed me at all. You’re going to play rings around these guys.”

“Well, no, that’s the problem. I’m not,” said Davi. “Did you notice how nobody was really using their [Bard] magic to make you feel anything?”

“That’s because their music sucks,” said Zilly.

“No, it’s because it’s illegal. In big cities, [Bards] have restrictions about how much of their power they can pull out. If you want to hear music like we play when we’re home, you have to book an indoor, private show.”

“Oh,” said Brin. That was actually a relief, to be honest. He’d always wondered why everyone was so blasé about the kind of mental manipulation a [Bard] could do. Turns out, they weren’t at all. There were laws against screwing with someone’s emotion too much, it’s just that those laws didn’t extend to the boonies where Brin was from.

“How do they measure it?”

“That’s what’s stupid. They can’t. How can you tell how much of what you’re feeling when you listen to music comes from the [Bard] and how much is from you? It’s impossible. That’s why in a public venue like this, [Bards] will try not to toe the line at all. If people start getting too invested in your music, someone will call the Watch.”

“So what’s next?” asked Brin.

Davi looked at them. “Are you guys sure you want to stick around? You’re looking a bit down, Zilly.”

She slapped her cheeks. “I’m fine. I want to help! What can we do? I bet I could snap a few oud strings without anyone noticing.”

Davi laughed. “No, please don’t do that. I really just need a seed audience. If you guys are here listening, it’ll make other people feel less awkward coming up.”

Zilly saluted. “Perfect! Let’s do this.”

While most of the [Bards] found patches of shade to play in, Davi found a small hill to stand on top of, where he could be seen while also letting his audience stand in the shade. The day wasn’t that hot, but even if it was, he doubted a little sunshine would’ve deterred the son of a [Farmer].

Sensing that something was going on, Marksi wandered over, but when he realized it was just more music, he curled up on a stone bench for another nap.

Davi’s first song was a sonnet exactly like all the others that they’d heard. Brin hated it. It felt wrong coming from Davi. This was the type of music for dainty little nobles in white carriages led by ponies, not for the rough and rugged people of Hammon’s Bog. People like Davi. It felt like a lie. Still, he was here to support his friend. Brin tuned out the words and focused on keeping an interested smile on his face while they listened.

At the end, they applauded too loudly, and Davi told them to keep it to short muffled claps. No one came by on the first song, but a few people stopped to listen to his second, although they seemed more interested in watching Marksi sleep than the music. Then no one came by for the third song.

Sensing the absolute lack of interest that his audience of three had for hearing another sonnet, Davi switched to a folk song from Hammon’s Bog, and let just a bit of his power into the music to clear up their weariness and the overstimulated feeling from having to hear so much complicated music in one day.

This song drew a crowd of ten, and when he played another, the crowd grew by another ten. He played a few more, until more than a hundred people stood around Davi.

After that, he switched back to a sonnet, and most of the group shuffled away.

“Why’d you do that? They really liked you!” said Zilly.

“Maybe too much,” said Davi. “I don’t want to get in trouble with the watch. But this was good for a first day!”

Looking in the donation bin that Davi had set out, he saw a good pile of copper and even a few silvers.

“Of course I mean to split that with you guys. You shouldn’t underestimate how important a seed audience is,” said Davi.

Brin wanted to argue with that, but one glance at Zilly told him that she probably actually needed it. And Davi probably didn’t any more than Brin did.

They sat in the same spot for a while as Davi took a break, listening to the music on the wind. It was kind of nice to faintly hear the music on the wind, and a refreshing breeze kicked up bringing the scent of trees and flowers.

One [Bard] was just barely close enough to hear the words of his song. “Oh how sweet these days of safety. The roads are clean and the forests are empty.”

The beginnings of Brin’s good mood evaporated immediately. “Even here? They’re even spreading that lie here?”

“If it helps, I don’t think that anyone truly believes this. They would not go through so much effort to try to convince the masses if everyone was already convinced,” said Sion.

It did help, actually, but not enough. Brin wanted to stand up on that hill and shout at them, that they were all wrong, that the army was still out there.

Actually, why not do just that? The beginnings of a plan began to form in his mind. He probably shouldn’t. But… he’d spent his entire last life always being normal and playing it safe. Why not do something different now?N/nêw n0vel chap/ers are published o/n n0v/e/(lb)i(n.)co/m

“Hey, Davi. Can I borrow your oud?”

“No. But I brought you half-lute.” Davi swung the instrument case around from his back. He’d thought it was for Davi’s oud, but it wasn’t empty. He’d been carrying Brin’s half-lute around the entire time, just in case Brin had volunteered to play with him. Damn, he really should have.

Brin picked it up, and strummed it a couple times. C, G, A minor, F. Pretty much every pop song used that progression, so it was a good place to start and not have to reinvent the wheel.

The lyrics sprang to his mind as if by inspiration. The first verse like this… ok, then the chorus… perfect. He grinned.

“I don’t like this,” said Davi. “What are you planning?”

“Nothing! Just thought I’d try my hand at some music. There’s nothing that says only [Bards] can play, right?”

“Other than common sense?” asked Zilly.

Brin marched up to the top of the hillock and stood facing the rest of the terrace. He made a few practicing strums, and then his nerves nearly made him move back down. No. He was doing this.

He pulled out a glass sphere and set it on the ground in front of him. “Sound amplification,” he explained. Which wasn’t a lie, that really was what he’d be using it for; he just wanted them to assume it was enchanted instead of using his own magic.

“No! That’s super illegal! Stop!” said Davi, but it was too late.

He pushed sound magic through the orb, and then began.

“They call me kukubaru,” Brin sang. It came out halting and questioningly, like he wasn’t sure if he actually was an undead poop-eater.

The sound of his voice thundered through the terrace, and left silence in its wake.

Brin played. Everyone else today had plucked their strings, playing precisely while making sure not to make too much noise. Brin strummed, filling the entire arena with sound.

“OOOOOOH! They call me kukubaru ‘cuz I eat the [Herald’s] words.

I’ll even grab a paper if I’m ready for desert!

I know it’s all disgusting, and it’s really quite absurd,

But they call me kukubaru ‘cuz I eat the [Herald’s] words! Hey!”

Zilly, Davi, and Sion stared at him white-faced and appalled. Every other [Bard] in the terrace had stopped playing, and everyone turned to face him. He smiled.

“Now they say the forests empty and the monsters are all through,

They say the that you can travel so I’d try if I were you,

I will go myself maybe today or might tomorroooooooooo,

I eat all that stuff up, that’s why they call me kukubaru!”

Zilly’s hands were a half-inch away from Brin’s lute, but she’d paused. Not sure if she really should do it. At the same time, it seemed to be dawning on her exactly what he was saying and her dumbfounded expression began to morph to a grin. Davi just looked sick.

“The [Herald] says we’re safe now and I think he must be right,

And you can’t take his words away from me unless you want a fight,

I eat all of what’s foulest and you can’t take it awoooooooooo!

I eat the [Herald’s] words, that’s why they call me kukubaru!

Now lies, you know they taste like dung and smell about the same,

And when they’re going down you know you’ll feel a lot of pain,

But to me they’re sweet and fragrant so that’s why you know it’s true!

I eat the [Herald’s] words (right up!) just like a kukubaru!”

Zilly had started to laugh, and Sion as well. Looking out, many of the people who’d come here for good music were smiling and laughing, having finally found what they were looking for. Others were red-faced and upset, marching towards him with violence in their eyes. Philistines.

He strummed out a blazing solo, and then repeated the first verse.

“I SAID THEY… WHAT? I said they call me kukubaru ‘cuz I eat the [Herald’s] words! Hey!

I’ll even grab a paper if I’m ready for dessert!

I know it’s all disgusting, and it’s really quite absurd,

But they call me kukubaru ‘cuz I eat the [Herald’s] words!”

He wasn’t sure how he was going to end the song, but he was spared that decision when Zilly grabbed his arm and yanked him off the hill.

Brin noticed a whistle for the first time.

“That’s the Watch! We gotta cheese it!”

By now, Davi and Sion had begun to laugh as well, though Davi still looked like he was in shock.

Laughing, the four of them plus Marksi dashed out of the [Bards’] Terrace and down the street.

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