Heart of Oak

To the east was the village that Khar encountered. It was of notable size and filled with a surprisingly wide variety of civilized creatures. From the peaks of the surrounding hills, Oakengrove, Saea, and Khar spied on the village. The site was sunken well below the hills and flatlands around it, cradling it. Pathways snaked up the smoother slopes like goat trails although were seemingly unused. The village itself was made of cobblestone, wood, and thatch. Among the many houses were a handful of crafting halls and even a religious monastery, at least, one that looked like it. From afar, many of the residents of the town were dressed in plain commoner clothes and there were very few armored guards visible in the streets.

The morning sun had just crossed the horizon and it was looking to be a bright day. The wind blew through stronger on the hilltops, knocking Khar onto his side. Oakengrove gestured to one of the gravel goat trails that led into town and the group ventured down into the bowl.

The outskirts of town were a collection of shabbier-looking homes, single floors, wholly made of wooden planks. Lopsided doors hung on one set of hinges and windows were paneless holes in the walls with a supporting frame. A quick glance inside through the glassless window revealed an interior of squalor and decadence. Empty bottles, food scraps, and corpses of small mammalian kills littered the floor. Huddled in a corner was a human, wrapped in loose cloth and covered in filth and grime. A truly sorrowful and disgusting sight to behold.

”Who could live like that?” Khar stepped back from the window.

“It’s not by choice, not always at least. My guess is something bad happened and he lost hope. A loss of hope degrades further into a loss of self-worth and self-preservation and eventually, to this.” Oakengrove explained. “However, all it takes is one good deed to bring the light back to them.”

Through the gaps in the floor, a plant sprouted and grew into a very full strawberry bush. It spread its form, hiding all the refuse beneath its green canopy. The man in the corner woke up and pressed himself further into the corner, trying to escape the sudden growth. The panic subsided a few minutes later when strawberries appeared on the outermost layer of the bush. He hesitantly snagged one off and bit into it. Much like magic, the eyes of the man suddenly widened in joyful excitement.

”That is likely the first real good food that hasn’t bitten him that he’s had in a long time.” Oakengrove said, stepping away from the home.

Saea smiled. “So what’s next?”

”I’m going to find the one in charge of this city and gain an audience with them. From there, we do trade and show these people that we are their friends.” Oakengrove then strutted down the road with purpose in each step.

As they ventured further into town, they got a better understanding of who was living there. The most prevalent species were goblins and among them were hobgoblins, a larger variation subspecies that is common in enduring tribes. Among them were many beastfolk of a noticeably wide variety including bovines, fauns, avians, and other kin. Even to Oakengrove’s own surprise, there were a few half-breeds. Humans with some animal features, mostly just beastial ears and a tail.

The town was seemingly built upon itself repeatedly, showing no signs of city planning or organization. Houses and crafting yards were intermixed and the offending odors lingered in the densely packed cobblestone streets. Towards the town’s center was a larger structure, a stone tower with a small rectangle with glass windows on the backside of it. The front door was situated in the tower and was much too small for Oakengrove to fit his behemoth form through.

Oakengrove was well aware of the confused and concerned gazes he and his friends were drawing. There was not a single dryad, treant, or other sentient plant-like entity walking about the city streets. There were also no slime types either. He and Saea stuck out as if wearing bright pink robes. He pushed the concern from his mind and knocked on the wooden door.

The door pulled inwards and a very elderly turtlekin in gold-trimmed green robes stretched out his neck and squinted. “What brings weary travelers to my doorstep?” He spoke like a seasoned grandfather.

”I am looking for this city’s leadership,” Oakengrove politely said.

”The council meets on the other side of town-″ He paused to release an enduring and seemingly painful cough.

The dryad leaned in and placed a hand on the turtle’s chest, whispering a restoration spell. “Does that help?”

The turtle paused and patted his chest, which also was the underside of his shell. “My throat doesn’t feel scratchy anymore. I appreciate the aid, stranger.”

”Oakengrove,” he replied.

A soft smile appeared on the turtlekin’s face. “Father Rodgers, I’m one of the clerics for this town.”

To hear the term ‘Father’ kicked a memory into Oakengrove’s head. Then it was gone again. It was familiar to him. “Father, where in town does the council reside?”

Rodgers stretched out his neck and looked to his right and to his left. “Between you and me, traveler, if you want someone who’ll get things taken care of, talk to Poppy. She’s the chief of the town and technically the overseer of the council. Wait here, I’ll get you a map.”

Saea turned to Khar, “A cleric that couldn’t heal himself?”

Khar shrugged his shoulders. “I wonder if what afflicted him limited his magics? I don’t know, I don’t have magic to use or understand.”

Khar was dressed in casual attire with only a dagger on his belt and he felt dangerously under-equipped for what was a recon mission for him. With Saea and Oakengrove present, most of his worries were mitigated. However, if there was a disease that could inhibit one’s magical prowess, then whatever the turtle cleric had, just put both of them at risk.

It was a few minutes before Rodgers came back to the door, which he’d just left wide open. In his shaky wrinkled hands was a rolled-up parchment with a strip of leather binding it closed. “It’s a small map, but it should make getting through this town a little easier.”

Oakengrove bowed his head. “I appreciate it, Father.” He then turned his attention to the parchment map.

Khar stepped up to the doorway and clasped his winged talons together. “I have a question.”

Father Rodgers smiled, seemingly happy to share whatever knowledge he had. “What knowledge can I share with you?”

”I was wondering, you mentioned you were a cleric, of what deity?”

Rodgers’ smile grew even wider, “Come in, I’ll show you.”

Khar followed the turtlekin into what he now realized was a place of worship. Inside were murals dedicated to someone he recognized. Small decorative trees were on every table, potted plants beneath windowsills, and on one big tapestry was a depiction of Oakengrove himself. “You’re a Grove Tender?”

The turtle lifted a finger to his lips, “I know that you travel with him. I lived a life a thousand years long just to see him with my own two eyes.”

Khar was taken aback by the whole display. This Father Rodgers really did remain faithful to the Florist faith, even after Oakengrove’s disappearance. “I’m impressed by all this. Do you hold regular gatherings?”

The turtlekin shook his head slowly. “Most nowadays follow the pantheon or one of the dozens of lesser deities. Just down the road from here, westward if I’m right, is a small shrine to Enderia.”

”The queen of the night? I thought all of her followers were dark elves?” Khar asked inquisitively.

”There are some who aren’t. This town is mostly of beastfolk and green skins. There are a handful of humans and elvish folk here but they keep to themselves mostly. You know how racial tensions get sometimes,” Rodgers sorrowfully explained. “Since humanity made its own dedicated kingdom on the continent north of here, human supremacy has been running rampant and it drove even the elves and dwarves out of town. Those who stayed are the few I try to help, however, I haven’t been able to make my monthly walk to the outskirts where the shacks are.”

”Is one of them a thin white male with blonde hair?”

”You met Samson on the way in then?”

”He’s been taken care of already. Oakengrove saw to it.”

Father Rodgers’ eyes sparkled in joy. “I spent years, many of my younger years constantly wondering if I was following the one good deity. When I heard he was gone, I almost gave up being a Grove Tender.” He let out a large sigh of relief. “I’m glad I picked the good one. So many of my old worries have been quenched.”

”Does it really matter that much to you?”

”When one dedicates their whole life to understanding gods and lesser deities, to the study of what they teach, what they do, you compare everything that you are to everything they were, and everything they are to what you want to be. I’ve put so much faith into him and his return, that I simply can no longer just walk away from being a Grove Tender. This faith of mine in Him is everything that keeps this elderly turtle heart of mine beating. One day, you may understand what faith is like.”

”I’m not a holy person. I’m just an owl getting from one day to the next.”

”I disagree. This isn’t your first life, Khar.”

Khar took a step back in shock. “How do you know my name?”

”I knew you when you were young. I knew your parents too when this town was just a tiny village of twenty or so families. A brown hawk and a beautiful speckled snow owl, Herrir was your father, and Fiia, your mother. I was a young cleric then, maybe two hundred years by then?”

Khar had a look of disbelief on his face. “Surely I’m not that old.”

”A second life, dear friend. I do know not the details of how things happened, nor is it my place to tell that story. I simply don’t have the time anymore.”

”Too busy?”

”No such thing as too busy. I just know that I’ve fulfilled my lifelong dream of meeting the creator of nature itself and soon it’ll be my time to return to the soil.”

Khar nodded his head, “I’ll leave you to finish your final preparations then, Father.”

”Have faith, young one, without it, this world, this era, it will consume you.”

Khar stepped out and closed the door behind him. Oakengrove was still staring at the map, trying to orientate the rough scribblings with the nearest landmark, this stone structure. Saea was trying to help, pointing at random objects in the distance.

”ah-ha!” Oakengrove exclaimed, now having figured out the map’s design. “This blob here is this building. Remember that stone wall that fenced in a few buildings? That’s this gray blob over here to the northeast. Which means the council’s chambers are dead north in this star-shaped structure.”

Saea stared at the map, glanced up at the city, then back at the map. “Are you sure? If you rotate it left…” she continued, thoroughly questioning Oakengrove’s ability to read maps.

”I can fly up and get a better view,” Khar chimed in.

Both of them stopped and turned towards the snow owl. “Very well, Khar. Fly up and scout around.”

With a few heavy flaps of his wings, he lifted off the ground and flew high up into the sky.

“I just realized something,” Saea spoke up.

”What would that be?” Oakengrove raised a leafy brow.

”Rodgers never told us what species Poppy is or what she looks like or even where to find her.”

Oakengrove released a heavy sigh of defeat. “Damnit. Well, when Khar gets back and confirms which way to the council hall, we can ask them for an audience.”

The council hall was very active on that very day. The discussion floor was open and debates on both policy and state of affairs were happening. Currently on the floor was a Raton, also known as a rat-kin or rodent-kin. She spoke passionately about the city’s growing trash problem, holding up baskets of food waste for all to see. “…If we cannot convince people to bury their food waste, then we need to start a collection service to make sure that it doesn’t pile in our streets. We will have disease and unwanted infestations if this is not taken care of.”

”Penny,” spoke one of the council members, a Tasaki of black fur. “This council’s budget is already strapped for this year with our efforts of maintaining the roads and houses that these people live in. I agree, it’s a problem, but it’s simply not one we can just throw coins at and hope it works.”

”Michaelis, you must listen to me. The outskirts of town are already in shambles and the refuse there is piling up. People are sleeping in filth.” Penny protested.

”Only humans and undesirables live in the outskirts. They had their chance. Between Huma, Rykensvik, Solador, and the hundreds of other human tribes that have raided us in the past, they’ve burned the bridge that would’ve supported them,” Michaelis dismissed her claim. “Councilman Yu-ti, do you have any words of wisdom for us?”

Yu-ti was a lizard-kin, a former adventurer turned assassin, before becoming a council member. He spoke up with a raspy lisp as old battle wounds hampered his speech. “I’m inclined to agree with Michaelis. The outskirts will disappear on their own when the human trash leaves. The inner city, however, could benefit from such a service however.” He turned to look at a third member of the council, a black and white bovine female. “Poppy, I believe Penny’s proposal has some merit. It will be harder to maintain the structural integrity of the older homes if they are suffering from wild creature infestations and its residents are sickly.”

Poppy had been quietly watching the whole day go down the drain. Every policy brought to the floor was heckled and tormented, picked apart by vultures who were buying time before the next election. After all, what good is policy if it doesn’t get you re-elected? She despised this rampant anti-humanism that was taking root in the city. Twelve thousand people and so few of them even knew what a human was or that even some were not evil at their core.

Hearing her name, she snapped out of her brief state of mindless wandering. She passed a partially confused glance towards Yu-ti before it clicked about what he said. “I, uhm,” she paused to recollect her thoughts. “A garbage collection service, if done right, could be very helpful, especially in the market when harvest comes around. We all remember how last year’s harvest went. The outbreak of roaches was most concerning.”

A smile formed on Penny’s face. Any sort of approval from the Chief meant that her idea at least had a chance at implementation.

Poppy stood up, “The council will discuss your proposal, Penny. You’ll receive a letter in the next few days regarding it.”

Penny nodded. “Thank you for your time,” she said and turned about, heading out the double doors.

Poppy sat back down on her high-back wooden chair. “Xander, tell me. Do we still need to worry about another raid?”

Xander was an insect-kin of the pill-bug variety. His gray carapace was dull in the lantern-lit hall. His antennae flicked about and with a click of his mandibles, spoke. “Not this year. Rumor from the traveling merchants has it that Huma is focusing on internal strife, and Rykensvik is preparing for another naval war with Solador. Apparently, Solador’s Inquisitors sparked some nasty tensions in Anvil. Killed some Basar immigrants. With Rykensvik and Basaran being as close-knit as they are, Solador will be busy for a while.”

Poppy took a deep breath. “Michaelis, do you have to be so hostile to every plan that comes through here?”

The tasaki gave a toothy grin, “I’m making sure that we don’t overspend our budget. Myself and a few others are concerned that this council and its servants are spending too many taxes on futile services.”

“Futile services?” Poppy sounded a little irritated at the assumption, “By all means, tell me what you and your posse believe to be ‘futile services’.”

”First, you instituted the wake-up callers. Most of the city’s market activity doesn’t really start going until after daylight, so waking people up at the crack of dawn does nothing but upset my constituents. Second, you continue to provide incentives for non-beastmen to move into the city despite the city’s sentiment against humans and their subtypes-“

”First off, Huma’s supremacist ideology is not a valid excuse to simply kick out human minorities. Second, the wake-up callers target houses that have requested the usage of the service.” Poppy crossed her arms in frustration.

There were more members of the city council but they remained silent. There were twenty council members total, and four of them were aligned with Michaelis. Michaelis had formed the city’s first political party with him at its head. Known to most as the Michaelis Group, he personally called it the “Civic League” and Poppy hated him for it. It created unnecessary division and friction, but there were enough supporters in the city to keep him on the council.

Then in walked a very odd group of three. Crouching through the doorway was a massive treant with a vibrant green leafy beard. At his sides were a blue-green slime creature in humanoid form and a snow owlkin. Only the owl-kin wore clothes and his clothes were generic leather armor padding.

The bovine-kin raised her right arm and stood up from her seat. “Who are you?”

The giant treant cracked a grizzled grin. “I am Oakengrove and these are my companions, Saea,” he gestured to the blue-green slime. “And this is Khar,” he then motioned towards the snow owl.

Poppy sat back down in her seat, relieved to know that the giant tree was both sentient and civil. She then spoke with much intrigue as she leaned forward, head resting on the backs of her intertwined fingers. “Pray tell, what brings you three to the council?”

”My companion here was flying around and found your city. I decided it was worthwhile to visit. I come to speak of friendship and a need for supplies.”