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[EOE] (150) 3.15. The Shrine of Rebirth
🕑 Added 2025-05-05 16:00:14 +0000 UTCAs Waltz began leading them toward town, crossbows drawn and eyes flicking every which way as he kept watch for any sign of the Red Dawn, Vin stepped closer to Shia and lowered his voice.
“Why didn’t you guys ever tell me you could give up your class and pick a new one just by praying to the Gods?” He asked, focusing on speaking the Sacred Forest tongue to be doubly sure the Scout wouldn’t understand them. Seeing as Waltz was treating this subject as if it were religious, he didn’t want to accidentally offend the man and have him draw those crossbows on them once more.
“I never mentioned it to you because as far as I know, it wasn’t,” Shia whispered back, shaking her head. “Not once did my Master ever mention anything like that being an option with the old System. According to him, if you ended up picking a class you didn’t like, your only hope was to painstakingly level your way up to your first prestige and pray you were offered something more favorable.”
“Seriously? The Gods didn’t have any sort of reset or anything like that?” Vin asked, his brow raised. He’d never really thought about it before, but that seemed like something he would have built into the System. After all, it was largely similar to a huge issue people faced on his own world. He’d never gone on to college himself, but he was well aware that tons of people ended up going into college with a certain degree in mind, before getting a taste for it and deciding to switch to a completely different field.
What if some poor kid thought they wanted to be a warrior, only to discover they hated the sight of blood the moment they killed their first monster?
“A reset did actually exist, on my world at least,” Scule admitted, scratching his head as he thought. “I don’t know the details, but I heard it was an expensive process that involved a rather complex ritual and a good handful of divine class holders to perform. It definitely wasn’t as simple as just praying to the Gods.”
“Maybe in coming up with a way to switch everyone over to their new System, the Gods ended up discovering a simpler method of resetting a person’s class?” Shia offered, looking curious. “If Waltz is telling the truth, this is pretty huge. Especially so for your people Vin.”
“No kidding. Half our problems are because we have such a high concentration of combat classes compared to crafters. Spur is gonna have a field day if this pans out to be true.”
“Hey Waltz!” Scule called out before Shia or Vin could stop him. “Are there any drawbacks to this whole ‘rebirth’ thing?”
Despite his ear flicking back indicating he heard the petian, Waltz didn’t turn around. Keeping his focus on the surrounding terrain, he called back to them. “The God of Rebirth doesn’t have any sort of hard time limit before you can pray to him, but you have to truly regret your choices and want to go through the Rebirth process, and you need a shrine to pray at of course. If I held a knife to your throat and tried to force you to change your class for example, nothing would happen, regardless of how hard you prayed.”
“I’m assuming you’ll lose all your levels and everything as well? Just like with the Great Reset?” Shia asked.
“Yes. To be reborn is to begin anew,” the beastkin nodded. “Even so, it was something we all welcomed. To be allowed to roam free as a Scout rather than be trapped within the prison as a…”
Clearing his throat, he shook his head. “Never mind. If a person’s gone through the Rebirth process, you’d best leave their past in the past. This world has given us all a chance to live new lives, and most of us are happy to do so.”
Vin blinked as Waltz’ words practically echoed Curash’s own. The leader of the Red Dawn himself had said something eerily similar, come to think of it.
But why would he bother if he was just planning to turn them over to his marauders and kill them? It just didn’t seem very fitting for the ruthless killer he’d revealed himself to be.
“We are here,” Waltz said, cresting a small hill and motioning them forward.
If there was one word that Vin thought described the town of former prisoners above all else, it would be shabby. Unlike all the other settlements they’d run into across Edregon, this one had clearly not been standing before the fragment had been whisked away. The entire town consisted of little more than a few dozen buildings, each constructed from a mixture of tanned hides and shoddily formed planks. And based on the scattering of tents a healthy distance from the town itself, it seemed not all the former prisoners were quite so comfortable being close to others.
There were a few fields of crops set up off to the side, but even from this distance Vin could tell that they weren’t looking too hot. The rows weren’t dug straight, and the plants themselves looked to be in poor condition.
“Don’t bring up anyone’s past if you don’t want to start a fight, and keep your wits about you,” Waltz instructed them, leading them down the hill and into the town proper. “Like I said, it’s a lot less dangerous now that the real nasty ones left to form the Red Dawn, but that doesn’t mean you won’t find people willing to stab you because you did something to piss them off.”
Doing his best to look like someone that shouldn’t be messed with, Vin followed along behind Waltz as they made their way into town. New faces must not have been a very common sight, as their group drew quite a good bit of attention almost immediately.
Vin tried to shrug off the heavy stares of the former prisoners as Waltz led them in between buildings. There were dirt covered dwarves hefting picks with stained red tips. Large, muscular orcs chewing away at some sort of roast bird that seemed to be carrying on an entire conversation just by grunting. He even recognized plenty of regular old humans wandering about, carrying materials here and there or lounging about with the other races, quietly chatting and watching him and his group all the while.
Despite still being outside, Vin couldn’t shake the feeling that they’d walked into one of those old-timey saloons shown in just about every western movie he’d ever seen. Every eye seemed to be tracking them, and conversations grew hushed as they wandered past.
“The town feels… a little bit guarded,” Vin muttered, nervously smiling at an elf that had stopped sewing what looked like a poorly made blanket just to stare at him.
“You would be too if you lived every day knowing the Red Dawn might attack any moment,” Waltz said, nodding toward a few other beastkin hanging around outside what Vin could only assume was some sort of tavern. The building looked like little more than a rundown shack, but he could smell the alcohol without even going inside. “Despite most of us having been Reborn, that doesn’t mean we’ve forgotten how to fight. You’ve got Bakers that might have once been a Brawler, or Farmers that used to be Thugs. Most of us hope for better futures, but our pasts have left scars that run deep.”
“Where are you taking us anyway?” Shia asked, staring defiantly back at an elf that seemed particularly confused about her sharp teeth.
“Nowhere in particular really,” Waltz shrugged. “You asked to see the town, so that’s what I’m showing you. Nobody’s stepped up to lead in Golrim’s absence, which means there’s nobody here to really speak for the town as a whole. Is there anything in particular you’d like to see?”
“How about that shrine of rebirth?” Vin offered, still curious about how the whole thing worked. “Is that nearby?”
“It’s not far,” Waltz nodded, adjusting their course slightly and leading them right back out of the small town. “We set up shop close by because of the shrine, but it’s in a dangerous location filled with bad memories. You’ll see what I mean in a few minutes.”
Just as Waltz promised, the shrine ended up being barely half a mile outside of town. It wasn’t hard to spot either, seeing as it was attached to the very prison these people had spent years of their lives trapped within.
Little more than a giant stone box descending down into the ground, the building Waltz led them to had next to no distinguishing features. If Vin hadn’t known the history of this fragment he wouldn’t have even known it was a prison.
There were no windows, no markings, nothing to identify the truth behind the building’s purpose.
Nothing besides a single statue of what he could only assume was a God, situated directly above the entrance.
Vin looked in horror upon the giant compound as they approached, his eyes fixed on the shrine Waltz had spoken so highly of. The shrine was clearly that of a man, his torso sticking out of the wall as he gazed down at those that walked beneath him. His hands were clasped tightly in prayer, and he had tears streaming down his face as if weeping for each poor soul unfortunate enough to cross beyond his threshold and enter the prison he was bound to. Vin couldn’t tell if it was just the knowledge of what had transpired within the building, or if it was some sort of lingering piece of the divine, but he could have sworn that there was some strange, subtle power that seemed to emanate from the crying statue.
It was almost… familiar, in a way.
“The God of Rebirth,” Waltz said, gazing upon the statue with watery eyes. “This very statue was the last thing any of us saw of the outside world before being led into the dark depths of the prison. Like most of those you’ll find within this fragment, I prayed for the Gods to take me away. To take me anywhere other than that dark hole in the ground the guards were dragging me toward. Who would have thought my prayers would eventually be answered?”
In the silence that followed Waltz’ explanation, the beastkin carefully dropped to his knees, bowing his head toward the weeping statue. All it took was a single glance into the gaping maw of the now empty prison to understand why these people all but revered this statue. For them, suddenly finding themselves free of their shackles after spending years trapped underground and subjected to what sounded like various forms of torture must have seemed like their prayers had truly been answered. If anything, Vin supposed it was lucky that it sounded as if the vast majority of prisoners had in fact decided to turn over a new leaf with their second chance, rather than join up with the Red Dawn and return to their old ways.
“I won’t lie,” Waltz finally said, shattering the somber silence as he got to his feet and wiped the tears from his eyes. “While we don’t like to talk about the past, most of us had done terrible, terrible things that were well worth being thrown into that prison for. All we can do now is try our best to be better.”
“From what we’ve seen so far, it looks like the members of your town are trying their hardest to do just that,” Shia said, offering Waltz a small smile. “...but Golrim is right. Intending to do something doesn’t matter very much if you don’t know how to go about doing it. That quick walk through town was enough to see that your people need help. Your crafters can barely build suitable shelters, and your Farmers don’t have time to learn through trial and error. A student needs a Master, and Vin’s people have the proper know-how to help your people learn.”
“Granted, we haven’t even cleared this with Spur yet, or the council for that matter,” Vin admitted, his eyes still locked on that of the crying God. “Though after seeing all this, I think I’m willing to try and convince them. It’s been four months for your people at this point since escaping. The fact that so many of you are still trying after all this time shows you guys really are doing your best to start new lives for yourselves.”
Finally tearing his eyes from the statue, Vin turned to look at the beastkin. His eyes were more cat-like than human, but they were still eyes filled with hope for the future. “Assuming I even get the go ahead for all this, would you be willing to go around and see just how many people would be interested in potentially packing up and joining our camp?”
“Like I said, I don’t know how many would be willing to go… But perhaps leaving would be for the best,” Waltz sighed, gazing once more upon the statue. “The Red Dawn would no doubt think twice about attacking us if we had more people, and we certainly could use some assistance.”
“In that case, all we need to do now is figure out a way past those marauding monsters and make it back to your camp in one piece,” Scule said, looking at the prison with more fear than anything. Vin supposed it made sense that the lone Rogue in their party would have a healthy dislike of prisons. “Ideas?”
“I do have one,” Vin nodded, taking a step forward and casting one of his newer spells. “Sense Dimensions.”
As he’d suspected, his spell brought back a rather interesting reading. Most of the area surrounding him felt normal, but the closer his spell got toward the prison, the more the feedback from the spell changed, the dimensions feeling more fluid and flimsy.
It was a sensation he was remarkably familiar with by now.
Stepping forward to confirm this theory, Vin couldn’t help but grin as he received an expected notification.
New dungeon discovered! 5,000 exp gained.
