Настучать в бубен / Hit the tambourine: Глава 1

Chapter 1

Camrad_RIP 28.05.25 в 15:06

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Camrad_RIP 28.05.25 в 15:07

If we compare Dantmark with Morgrave, the Pearl of the Mediterranean for Dantmark would be “the city of my mother's friend's son.” Everything here was bigger and better — the enchanted wall was taller and of higher quality, the source of magic on which the tower of magicians and the ruler's castle stood was more powerful, the population was larger and richer, the market stalls were more abundant, and even the prostitutes were more beautiful. Stepan had never been to this city in person, but he had traveled here twice on a spiritual journey before meeting the demonic scum. To be honest, he liked it here more than when he was in his spiritual body. He didn't have to worry so much about the pile of specific spells that the spirit observers were tracking. The steppe was close by, as were its inhabitants, so the local population knew a thing or two about shamanism and knew how to play it safe, which meant that it wasn't really possible for the shaman who had left his body to fly unnoticed through the streets of Morgrave.

Camrad_RIP 16.06.25 в 20:00

The shaman entered through the northern gate, conscientiously waiting in line among the common people. He did not even complain that he was gifted and needed special treatment. That man, who was quite battered by a life of drunkenness but was indeed gifted, was politely asked to either pay an additional tax for entering without waiting in line, or to present his work permit, diploma, or guild mark, or to shut up and not show off. And when he tried to continue his rampage, threatening to curse the slow-witted guard, he was paralysed and stunned with a baton and taken away to the local jail. Apparently, the man was a typical village witch doctor, which is what Stepan could have mistaken him for. And even his pride was understandable. Such people traditionally need to shout, show courage before they start bargaining, but here he was in the wrong place. Alas, while he could walk into small villages and was welcomed with open arms in small towns, Morgraму had its own gifted people.

Camrad_RIP 02.07.25 в 11:36

And these gifted individuals do not need useless, uneducated, and aspiring apprentices who will draw magic from their surroundings and dump magical services of extremely low quality onto the market. This is nothing, just a sign of a very successful Free City, and not just any city. In the same Dantmark, simple, untrained gifted people without diplomas also entered the gates on equal terms, no better and no worse than craftsmen or small shopkeepers. In the glorious and mighty Neirat, they say, even a respectable adept can be stopped at the gates and asked to leave if they do not have permission to practise in the City of Wizareds. Because it is not just a city, but consider it, one continuous magical source, extremely cultured, and neutral.

Camrad_RIP 02.07.25 в 11:50

In special meditation areas, in the private workshops of noble families, in towers and in the Academy itself, the concentration of magic is literally at its maximum and ideal for practising wizards. But even within the city limits, the background is noticeably higher, better, and more intense, which is why the guards and the adepts assigned to them, who are either practising or working out their contracts, look askance at any newcomers and guests of the capital of magic. They see them as just another bunch of newcomers who will try to snatch some of the power floating in the air and take it away from the original inhabitants of Neirat. Interestingly, they are almost always completely right in their disapproving assumptions and nitpicking, which is a funny detail!

Camrad_RIP 02.07.25 в 11:52

Fortunately, Morgrave was not Neirat, so it didn't quite reach the point of paranoia, although they checked and searched him much more thoroughly than when he first entered Dantmark. The gifted commander of the gate guard not only checked him with his magical vision, but also used an amulet complex in the form of a relatively primitive diadem on his forehead and a whole bunch of amulets on a wide belt. So to speak, to switch vision modes through these amulets, which acted as filter lenses, so that he could quickly scan his target without straining his senses, especially his eyes. To be fair, that man checked him with barely a quarter of the available spectra, and his assistant, also in guard uniform, limited herself to just a couple, in addition to the standard ones. They were saving both the reserve of amulets and their brains, which could have boiled over from such meticulous scrupulousness.

Camrad_RIP 02.07.25 в 11:54

This is not a joke, but quite literally: amulets are not personal skills, such a load is always higher and heavier for the mind that does not know how to look in the same modes.

Camrad_RIP 29.05.25 в 16:49

Stepan introduced himself, or rather, no longer Stepan and not even Pann, but simply Stae, still as weak but a trained apprentice, just as eager to find a better life in the city. In the eyes of the guard, he differed from the rowdy man who had been taken away to the jail cell only in his calmer disposition, his willingness to pay the toll for the gifted man without argument, and his slightly more pleasant appearance. The commander's assistant smiled at him quite sincerely, and her emotions betrayed a slight and harmless interest. Well, what can one say, except the classic ‘plus five to self-esteem’? Inside the city, he first began to wander the streets, sat in a relatively decent tavern, had a snack of very tasty sausages, looked at the prices of several herbs at the market, and only then, after making sure that no one was following him and that no one gave a damn about him, headed where he had originally been going.

Camrad_RIP 02.07.25 в 11:56

The estate of the first assistant to the head of the de Lomer trading house, which also served as the house's representative office in Morgrave, was located in a truly noble neighbourhood, where each house was essentially a small fortress. First and foremost, from a magical point of view, but even among them, this dwelling stood out about as much as a tank standing phlegmatically in a car park among cash collection vehicles. Up close, this mansion, or rather a complex of separate buildings, looked no less impressive than it did to the spiritual traveller. Three floors, massive and strong walls, carefully calibrated architecture, a large garden and courtyard, and a protective perimeter. The rear courtyard of the house, where the family's callplase was obviously located, exuded such power that even Stepan felt a chill. Especially so close up. It was as if at any moment the wind could break loose like a hungry beast, tear apart the body, strip the flesh from the bones, squeeze out the eyes and brain, tear the lungs apart, steal the breath from the chest, or simply take you and smear you into a pancake.

Camrad_RIP 02.07.25 в 11:58

A cursory analysis of the security measures, based on available knowledge, showed that they were not exactly paranoid, but clearly a little more intense than usual. And not only had they clearly received specific orders, a whole chain of them, spirits, but also the usual, classic security measures, woven into the building almost from the moment of its construction. Guests were clearly expected here, and they had already arrived, and it was not just about the shaman. There were clearly more horses than usual in the stables, and the servants were running around. Stepan watched this commotion from above, using the spy device he had left over from his previous adventure. All this aroused some suspicion, but it didn't look like an ambush; it was too clumsy, not sufficiently concealed, if it really was an ambush. Again, even if Maega and her husband had called for help today, the oaths they had already taken would not allow them to use it normally.

Camrad_RIP 02.07.25 в 12:01

He had no doubt that even his masterfully crafted security measures could be breached and broken, but damn it, not so quickly and not without completely alerting all of his alarm nodes bound by oath! Not these guys and girls, for sure... otherwise, why would they even set up an ambush here? They would have twisted him in that clearing and wouldn't have bothered with such maneuvers. After sitting in another tavern over untouched fried chicken legs for almost two hours, he still couldn't find anything to complain about. Well, the timer for the meeting was slowly turning from a slight delay into a full-fledged tardiness, and the young man still risked venturing into the beast's lair. Yeah, and the beast was two vicious mares, damn it! Having finally eaten the drumsticks, he got up and hurried to the entrance, since he had all the necessary letters of recommendation with him.

Camrad_RIP 02.07.25 в 19:16

"Who are you?" Without aggression or insult, but also without a drop of warmth, one of the two guards guarding the servants' passage asked, quickly assessing Stepan's clothes and even aura, albeit through the amulet, not being too impressed, which resulted in zero piety. "Why did you come?"

Camrad_RIP 29.05.25 в 16:50

"Greetings, sir." He speaks respectfully and symbolically, with a slight bow of his head. "My name is Ste, my venerable grandmother put in a good word for me with her old friends. They were supposed to be warned about me, if I understand correctly. Here, they even gave me a letter to take with me."

Camrad_RIP 02.07.25 в 19:20

He did indeed have a letter with the official small seal of the trading house, even though he had forged the seal, simply because Urvag did not take the main seal, the small seal, or even the letter seal with him to the negotiations. The latter has minimal power and is simply used to mark correspondence, at the same time, to prevent it from being scanned and opened. This protection is not very reliable. By the way, he was not very happy that Stepan, as if nothing had happened, said that he would simply forge the seal, as there was no point in trying to find it in the middle of the forest now. Singha even jumped into the conversation and explained that the shaman wasn't crazy. He just didn't know how offensive that sounded to a representative of a stamped trading house, even a Trading House. It was a direct challenge, right to his face. The man, quickly realizing that Stepan, who had already revealed his identity, was completely clueless about the business etiquette of the local high society, took the situation with humor and turned it into a joke. Reluctantly, the young man acknowledged Singha's usefulness in that dialogue. If it weren't for her, they would certainly not have agreed on anything good.

Camrad_RIP 02.07.25 в 19:23

The guards reacted with enviable professionalism to his slow and deliberately clumsy retrieval of the letter from the inside pocket of his modest and worn caftan. Calmly, confidently, and controlling every movement of the suspicious little man, even though he did not seem suspicious at all. A quick glance at the letter, which was opened but still had its broken seal of enchanted wax, followed by a not-so-quick check of the seal with another amulet. Naturally, the check did not reveal any forgery, because the seal was so authentic that the only thing more authentic would be to steal the seal itself and affix it with his own hands. The guards, who had calmed down noticeably, looked kindly at the modestly fidgeting young man, while one of them communicated with someone via mental connection through another amulet. Incidentally, this one was not a classic amulet, but a shamanic one, looking like a small river pebble wrapped in leather strings to make a stylish bracelet.

Camrad_RIP 02.07.25 в 19:27

"Come on in, lad." The guard nodded at him in a warmer and more normal tone, pointing to a slightly out-of-breath footman or whoever he was, who would be taking the guest somewhere. "They'll show you in, just don't get lost, please."

Camrad_RIP 02.07.25 в 19:28

//“The house is such a mess that you're afraid to even breathe.” That's what the security guard thought, but he didn't say it, because his protection was simply not adapted to the presence of a brainiac of Stepan's level. As the shaman himself understood, some distant and problematic relatives had come to visit this family, and it was not possible to simply send them away, especially without attracting attention. During the negotiations, the shaman had specifically clarified that he would arrive quietly and without fanfare, since he had decided to show trust and enter the walls of a foreign stronghold rather than neutral territory. Well, yes, he decided, after all the oaths he had sworn, which he had almost bored even the highest spirit on a system contract and a bunch of lesser spirits, among whom were two elders. Moreover, he chose such oaths so that it would not be possible to use the methods known to him to invert those oaths and make him liable for everything, including chocolate eyes.

Camrad_RIP 02.07.25 в 19:35

"Yeah, hi, yes, I know, you're Stae, they told me about you, yes, steward Justas, yes." The footman was not much older than Stepan, but he was so exhausted that the young man could hardly resist reflexively hitting him with a healing spell, lest he die right there, collapsing at the feet of the dear guest. "Phew, sorry, I'm just very tired. My name is Senzhiros, but you can just call me Senz. Today, the honorable Urvaga and Maegi have guests from the steppe, so you'll have to wait there... there, in general, you have to wait."

Camrad_RIP 02.07.25 в 19:37

The boy was clearly out of place, literally. From the young man's thoughts, which were practically uncovered, except for a symbolic protective amulet, the isekai knew even without actively scanning that he was something between a floor polisher and a servant. He was meeting guests for the first time because he had never been trusted with such a task before, but today there was no one else to send. From his thoughts, Stepan learned that some of the servants had been dismissed today and that they had decided to have a small family holiday. Sometimes, rarely, the venerable Urvag and his equally venerable wife allowed themselves such a little happiness. Actually, the shaman learned this from them himself, just as he learned that in a quarter of cases, this ‘lovebirds' cooing’ was simply an excuse to hold private negotiations with someone important who did not want publicity. Perhaps there were far more than a quarter of such deceptions, but the main thing was not to overdo it; otherwise, competitors would only pay closer attention in response to such a festive atmosphere.

Camrad_RIP 09.07.25 в 19:58

This, again, is from the words of Urvag, who took upon himself the entire organization of the next meeting.

Camrad_RIP 29.05.25 в 16:51

However, neither Urvag, nor Maega, nor Stepan took into account such a chaotic factor as a visit from distant relatives. From early morning, these relatives arrived with gifts and generous offers, but, alas, without a direct invitation. And the shrewd and naturally curious Senj knew perfectly well the reason for such a sudden visit, which made Stepan almost giggle like an idiot. What was the matter? Well, since the almost completed engagement between a certain ‘haughty young gentleman’ and a mare had somewhat fallen through due to stone snot, breaches in the spirit world, and worm-eaten chthonic, someone in the Steppe and nearby decided that it was possible to try again to cast a line on the subject of marriage. In Stepan's opinion, Nertm now owed him for the rest of his life for the fact that his wedding to this trouble had not worked out, but that was his personal opinion.

Camrad_RIP 09.07.25 в 19:59

But the family of the Steppe aristocracy, which had once been rejected, sensed a second chance and tried again to revive the old conversation. Incidentally, like de Lomer, the family had access to trade between the Confederation, represented by Morgraf and Westmark, and the Steppe, only now on behalf of the Steppe rather than the Confederation. It was a kind of trading house, only steppe-based rather than confederate. Different specifics, different traditions, and everything else too, but still similar phenomena. It is not surprising that they are so eager to become related. Consider that it will be possible to tap into trade, primarily in steel and magical reagents, which currently goes through de Lomer and one of the steppe khans, whose sphere of influence includes the family of two mares. Well, or maybe Maega and Singha, because he needs to get used to talking about them more politely, they are partners after all.

Camrad_RIP 09.07.25 в 20:25

To be honest, Stepan couldn't shake the feeling that he was in some kind of fucking circus. Apparently, neither Urvag nor Maega had been informed about him, and he had been seated in the waiting room, not in the main hall, but in another, smaller one for lesser visitors. To be fair, he didn't mind at all and certainly didn't feel humiliated; rather, he felt sorry for the man, Justas, who had sent Senja to meet him instead of coming himself. And he felt even more sorry for Senja, who had obviously forgotten to tell Justas that this young man had arrived and was now waiting. The tension in the atmosphere was palpable, but it was not the kind of tension where, once it reaches its climax, people start pulling out knives. It was a different kind of tension, the tension of a tedious scandal brewing between relatives, when you can't wait to leave, but politeness and tradition prevent you from saying so directly.

Camrad_RIP 09.07.25 в 20:26

"Oh, you're here, Stae?" Senj, who had returned to him, had successfully managed to shed what remained of his polish, looking exhausted, miserable, and dead tired. "That's it, the storm seems to have passed... I mean, they'll accept you very soon. Damn, I shouldn't have said that. You didn't hear anything, okay?"

Camrad_RIP 13.07.25 в 07:53

"Didn't hear what?" Stepan asks with a look of complete indifference, suppressing the urge to yawn. "You just came in, said they'd accept me soon, and now you're silent."

Camrad_RIP 13.07.25 в 07:54

"Ha-ha! There you go! I'm sure we'll be friends! If they don't kick me out of the master's house after today..." Waving his hand at the guest to follow him, the guy began to ask Stepan about his life, not too insistently, but without hiding his interest. "So you have a gift? I envy you. I can't even use amulets properly. But if you have a gift, and someone vouched for you, don't worry — they'll take you, I can bet my beret on it. Mr. Urvag welcomes the gifted almost always, as long as they're not completely stupid. And he asks almost all of them a few questions personally, instead of just passing them on to his assistants. If not in the manor house, then you'll definitely find a job in one of the trading courtyards, and they'll help you with training and give you a decent loan, unlike those bloodsuckers at the banks. If I were you, I'd really aim for the market. It's for me like honey and jam here, serving respectable masters, but if you're gifted, it's better to stay away from the respectable ones..."

Camrad_RIP 13.07.25 в 08:00

The guy didn't need anyone to talk to, but he had a loose tongue. It seemed like he had only recently started working there and hadn't yet realised how dangerous it was to blab about such things concerning those very respectable gentlemen. Then, however, Stepan switched on his brain and discreetly scanned his escort. He tried not to remove his disguise — his modified and reinforced shroud, enhanced with several properties, was quite effective in deceiving the estate's security, allowing him to hide himself almost completely and pass himself off as an ordinary student. But using his gift in this mode was not only fraught with the risk of exposing his disguise, but also dangerous. The guardian spirits, suddenly seeing not a student but a senior shaman, might strike reflexively. And the fact that the strongest spirits had also been ‘warned’ of his visit would not stop them. Nothing will happen to him; he is keeping the threshold from being revealed, and he has also prepared several heavier spells, but it's a pity about the interior. It is clear that it was chosen with love and knowledge.

Camrad_RIP 09.07.25 в 20:27

In general, only now did Stepan look at the boy, noticing that he was a classic ‘chatterbox.’ A mixture of witchcraft and primitive shamanism, where the summoned spirit does not perform the task, but fuels the effect of the spell of talkativeness, reducing critical thinking and cognitive abilities. So that the victim would chatter away, not paying much attention to what was being said, not realising that they were talking out of turn, and not thinking too much about what was happening. Ideally, by evening, they would have forgotten most of the day, hiding their forgetfulness behind fatigue and exhaustion, saying that the day had been too exhausting to remember. Right. This is no longer fun. Slightly shifting his aura, the young man more carefully assesses the effect — clearly not too strong, but done with skill and precision, already almost broken under the pressure of Senja's aura. Not masterful work, but this crap must have been done by a solid adept, no less.

Camrad_RIP 09.07.25 в 20:29

And what really excited the shaman was that this junk was definitely not created by Maega or Singha, whereas the effect itself, despite its apparent primitiveness... was tailored to protect the estate. It was as if it was originally intended to be used here. So, if he came here just as the next series of Game of Thrones was starting, it wouldn't be funny at all. After reconfiguring the aura nodes under the shroud, Stepan sent a subtle signal-call to the spirits he had prepared in advance, just in case. Senj, who was even more confused, rubbing his face with his palms because of his floating head, meanwhile, led him to Urvag's office. Well, Stepan logically assumed this based on the opulence and expense of the furnishings, the overall security of this office, and the large coat of arms of the de Lomer trading house on the door, because no one but Urvag would hang such a thing on the door.

Camrad_RIP 09.07.25 в 20:30

“Who are you?” Stepan stared in bewilderment at the young, arrogant man who had come out of the office. Outwardly calm, he was inwardly seething with suppressed anger, which was breaking through his very respectable defenses, including his aura-spiritual reading. “Answer me, khanur!”

Camrad_RIP 03.07.25 в 05:28

The guy was older than Stepan or, say, Senj, but not by much, and his character definitely needed some correction, perhaps with a few kicks to the face. Through the door that quickly closed on its own, blocked by sound and several other barriers, the shaman caught the emanations of a serious argument coming from there. There were no shouts or accusations, but one side was clearly in a bad mood, and so was the other. It seemed that the young and arrogant one had been asked to get some fresh air in the reception room while the grown-ups, Maega's aura was not really contained by the barriers, she did not hide herself, but almost pressed with force, had their important conversation. And then this gentleman comes out and sees Stepan — unassuming and modestly dressed, clearly out of place even next to the smartly dressed Senj, let alone this fucking rude horse.

Camrad_RIP 13.07.25 в 08:07

Horse, not because he was a centaur, but a steppe dweller. Tall, almost a head taller than Stepan, strongly built and sinewy, he looked like a natural Mongolian warrior. His face was not mixed-race like Singha's, but that of a purebred steppe dweller, with elegant clothing, a set of amulets for protection, a richly decorated dagger, and a combat whip rolled into a tight stick on his belt. The whip, by the way, was magical, a strange mixture of a staff and a whip, where the handle served as the base of the staff and a conduit of power, and the whip allowed one to cast amplifying magic on oneself. Stepan had never seen such a thing before, except in a system store, but in the steppes, many people use this type of weapon, where the whip is considered to be on a par with the sabre. First of all, it is more versatile. It can be used to herd livestock, drive away wolves, attack in mounted combat, and, as malicious tongues say, bring living and intelligent creatures to submission. And this clearly distinguished steppe man attacked poor Ste for some reason, becoming even more enraged. He called him a khanur again. That's what Singha called him during their first and second encounters. It's something like an offensive ‘foreigner’ with a touch of classic racism.

Camrad_RIP 13.07.25 в 12:31

"Me? I am Stae, honourable sir." He answered honestly, suppressing his aggression and bowing his head in a polite, though not obsequious, bow, for it was much easier to tolerate this pipidastr than Singh during her visit to the Trabius courtyard. "I'm supposed to work for the honourable Urvag, if everything is..."

Camrad_RIP 13.07.25 в 12:33

"Gifted?" He interrupted Stepan again, but Stepan just smiled a little more broadly, flashing his best modest autistic smile, which worked on many strict teachers, except for Rodislav Gastoldovich Yanin, but nothing worked on him anyway. "A shaman?"

Camrad_RIP 13.07.25 в 12:35

"Well, I'm a skilled spellcaster, but if need be, I can also perform shamanic rituals." His answer didn't please him, so much so that he was on the verge of rage, even though it didn't show on his face. What's more, it wasn't about some cultural or social nonsense, but about the answer itself. "I know a little bit about talking to spirits. Just a little."

Camrad_RIP 13.07.25 в 12:50

At the last word, he even showed with his fingers that little bit. He decided to himself that if he were to be struck now, he would not do anything, but something bad would happen to this idiot, similar to what happened to the late Boiled Valdis. Fortunately, for all parties, the muddy boy did not do anything rash or uncivilised, but only glanced at Senj, who was pale with tension, and discreetly activated one of his amulets, thereby finally unravelling the barely holding knots of the imposed ‘chatterbox’. The trinket was originally designed to uninstall these spells and then try to wipe them out. Stepan just as discreetly wedged a little of his will into this message, slowing down the disintegration, but leaving no analogue of his ‘fingerprints’ in a magical manner.

Camrad_RIP 13.07.25 в 13:03

"Esharsam-lah nut." He muttered through his teeth in a haughty, immature manner, rudely pushing Stepan aside, even though he wasn't blocking the way; the corridor was wide. Then he walked out, striding purposefully and keeping his back straight as an arrow. "Ungalash!"

Camrad_RIP 13.07.25 в 12:36

These were not exactly swear words, but rather offensive epithets, something between uneducated, unworthy, a kid from another neighbourhood, and barefoot rabble. This scene was witnessed by the guests leaving the office, who were not particularly pleased, and the hosts, who saw them off with forced smiles. Urvag saw and heard both the push and the remark at once. He was an excellent merchant and diplomat because even in his spiritual perception, his subtle body was only slightly clouded, and his face did not change at all; only his smile became somewhat stiff. And he confidently smoothed over the conflict, casually saying that Stepan had been brought here by mistake and should have been taken to the second office, where job interviews were usually conducted. Poor Senj seemed ready to die on the spot, but nodded silently and dragged Stepan away with him.

Camrad_RIP 09.07.25 в 20:36

Finding himself back in the same reception room where he had been before, the increasingly cheerful shaman saw Justas staring at him with wide eyes. Justas also reprimanded Senj for his stupidity, quickly introduced himself to the shaman, and told him to sit and wait. As he walked down the corridor, he continued to berate Senja for exposing him, Master Justas, in front of Lord Urvag himself. The noise subsided, followed by five minutes of silence, before the hall was enveloped in a mixture of high magic and shamanism, cutting off sound and attention. Then, from a secret passage that opened inside an inconspicuous room, Urvag emerged, clearly out of his element. still smiling tensely, was obviously going to apologise, although Stepan was not particularly offended. Certainly not at him and his family. They clearly did not come up with all this.

Camrad_RIP 09.07.25 в 20:38

"Is Maega taking that shit off the boy now?" He asks first, not allowing the planned dialogue to begin. "I slowed it down a little, on purpose, so it would stand out."

Camrad_RIP 02.07.25 в 20:03

"What? Oh, yes, thank you very much for that, Pann. Or is it Stae?" Slightly taken aback by the unexpected question, he regained his composure as usual; otherwise, he would have been a poor salesman. "However, first of all, I must apologise. No one expected such a visit..."

Camrad_RIP 09.07.25 в 20:39

"Sudden relatives are worse than Horde warriors, as they used to say in my home. The shaman said melancholically, shrugging his shoulders. “Call me whatever you like, even Stepan, I don't mind. And believe me, I am well aware that you are not to blame for what happened. I insisted on complete secrecy, I came in disguise and dressed simply.”

Camrad_RIP 02.07.25 в 20:02

"Oh, damn it, it's just some kind of clownish dance, not a day." Urvag, relaxed not only outwardly but also inwardly, whose wife should have dealt with that spell long ago and was now, no doubt, protecting her husband from his, Stepan's, possible anger. "Believe me, this boy may be unbearable, but his father did a lot for me in his time. I certainly wouldn't dare to give orders, and I won't ask for the life of a fool, but I will ask that you at least leave his family alone. And, if possible, express your dissatisfaction at least a decade or two later, so that they are already far away from my House."

Camrad_RIP 13.07.25 в 12:37

In response to such directness, Stepan just silently lamented the morality of this world. He seemed like a perfectly normal man, albeit a stereotypical haggler at heart, but it never even occurred to him that Stepan would leave that idiot alive. That's just not how things are done in this world; even the slightest insult from the weak to the strong is not left unpunished, because it is a blow to honour. But from the strong, they will tolerate almost anything, yeah. And from the point of view of local morality, Urvag literally shows the nobility of the hundredth level, protecting, if not his most beloved, then his allies and partners from the anger of a dangerous and extremely destructive ally, who also must not cross over to the enemy's side. It is not surprising that he came to talk, and not Maega; he must have dissuaded her, because his wife is clearly not used to asking and diplomatically resolving situations.

Camrad_RIP 13.07.25 в 12:46

"Come on, I'm not going to kill him." And in response to the skepticism that penetrated even through all the acting, he explained in a little more detail. "He didn't do anything bad to me, he didn't try to hit me, I didn't see any auras under his disguise, and I don't kill anyone just for being a jerk, otherwise I'd have a trail of corpses behind me. What kind of conspiracy is that? I'll give him a week of digestive problems so he can't get off his high horse, add something else offensive on top of that, and let him ride his horse across the endless steppe. I remembered his aura, I have his image, and I learned his defense too."

Camrad_RIP 07.07.25 в 17:21

"Singha was right after all — you're strange, Pann. I wouldn't forgive him. Well, it's not that easy. They would pay the full ransom for him, just as they would have paid. But it's your business, I certainly won't object, it's easier for me that way." Urvag quickly switched to an informal address during their first meeting, when Stepan directly said that he didn't like to bother with all these etiquette pirouettes. "Then, I suppose we can go have a drink, wet our throats, and satisfy our hunger; otherwise, I feel like a scoundrel for not even inviting our dear guest to the table. Maega will join us very soon."

Camrad_RIP 07.07.25 в 17:19

They proceeded, and Stepan casually inquired why Urvag persistently referred to him as either Stea or Pann, rather than by his actual name. After a moment's hesitation and a request not to be offended, Urvag explained that his name in the language of the Northern Theocracy, which is quite popular in this world, sounds like something between “stubborn” and “unreasonable man.” It's not exactly Stepan, but something like “staypan,” but the man, who was fluent in many languages, twitched his eyebrow every time. And the worst thing was that this offensive expression had been gradually creeping into everyday use for about twenty years, even in the dialect of the Confederation, including Morgraf: the theocrats had spent a lot of effort to spread their writings to the masses, coming together with native speakers, free prayer schools, and all that. In general, they would be nice people if they weren't fanatical cultists in the worst (and best, for that matter) sense of the word.

Camrad_RIP 07.07.25 в 17:24

So, during their conversation, they moved to a small dining room, where a table covered with appetizers was already waiting for them. While Stepan tasted the magnificent cheese plate without feeling its flavor, washing it down with cranberry juice instead of wine, also without feeling its taste, Urvag shared the latest news and thoughts. He did not forget to thank him for his understanding regarding today's incident. Stepan, who, due to three different spirits inhabiting his body and a spell cast on his teeth, could not taste anything and was physically incapable of poisoning himself or tasting anything except the dish itself and a limited list of seasonings, mostly nodded. His agent skills were sufficient to pretend to enjoy the food while checking it and not breaking the Shroud. There was no need to break it. All the spirits had been planted in advance in the shaman's tongue, larynx, and, oddly enough, spine and all three were small and only worked in tandem. However, the effect of their sensors and protection was such that not every senior poison specialist could replicate it.

Camrad_RIP 07.07.25 в 17:26

"Senj isn't really that stupid, I... well, what can I say, I kept him on the second payroll as my personal assistant for small tasks, but at the same time, he was running around doing odd jobs for the junior staff. He's smart, attentive beyond his years, and as tenacious as a predatory fish." Stepan began to suspect something when he noticed the “chatterbox” in the boy, because even with a hostile spell, he behaved like “just” a talkative young man, when he should have been blabbing everything he knew without pause or thought. "Someone from Sakhai Bey's people noticed this detail and decided to use him to check, so to speak, the weather under the roof of my house. Rudeness. Right at that level, after which I will tell them with a clear conscience that it would be better for them not to invite themselves over for a couple of winters. The old weasel will apologize, of course, but the residue, you understand, will not go away."

Camrad_RIP 07.07.25 в 17:31