Scowling, Alaric's foot sank into a pile of animal feces with a sickening squelch. Farmers were flicking feces across the fields of crops before them. Some were openly doing their business with their tunics hiked up, or by a tree with a pile of leaves to use. A passerby couldn't tell if the smudges on these farmers were manure or dirt.
The smell was putrid. Horrendous for the Beastkin, whose nostrils contracted. Several fastened cloths to their snouts, but it did little to stop the smell. Like humans, they also tried to change the way they breathed and held their noses, but still to no avail.
It was a subtle form of torture. Yet, if the Beastkin wanted clothes, herbs, medicines, and other valuables, they had to endure it.
Geri paid no heed to their struggles, nor to the anger festering in Alaric as he scraped the poop off his boot. He was busy instructing soldiers with orders on which houses to visit, what to say to the grieving, and what to finish up on.
"We could at least pile it up or make a shit house," Alaric grumbled, fitting his shoe back on.
"The shit helps the plants," Geri responded idly as he finished with the soldiers. "What good is a shit house if we're just going to fling it back across the fields?"
"It would keep clear paths through the town so this doesn't happen. And it would help with the Beastkin's noses."
Gesturing toward the town, Geri motioned at the chickens, pigs, and people all living in coexistence while the fields were fenced. "Pigs, chickens, people- you can't avoid shit if you want to grow food."
"I'm sorry it doesn't meet your pristine expectations," Geri said, glancing at Alaric's wrinkling nose. "You grew up here all your life? You're an odd one."
"I just think we can do things a little more cleanly," Alaric snapped again, motioning at some outlying fencing in certain places. "Put them behind fencing like we use to keep wolves out and crops safe."
"We won't have to walk across town picking up stray shit. We've seen livestock get sick from sticking their noses in piles, or needing parasites removed."
"It's nature." Geri shook his head. "Convincing each resident to gather wood and fence their homes just to keep shit off the streets? Good luck with that."
"Why don't you use your position?" Alaric scoffed. "You're the town leader."
Raising an eyebrow, Geri replied, "That's the Southerner's way. Try interfering with a Northerner's land or family, and you'll be dead. I'll be dead."
When Alaric's gaze shifted downward, Geri clapped him on the back. "If you feel that strongly, try convincing people. Nothing's stopping you."
"Most people have the same opinion as you..."
"Aw," Geri rolled his eyes and kept walking. "Best keep trying then."
"I'm just saying, it would be a lot easier if you did something."
"Stop trying to use me to win your battles. Win your own," Geri called back. "I already did your family a favor keeping you as second-in-command. At least act like a leader."
Alaric's mouth fell open in disbelief. 'The whole point of your position is to better the people. Maybe people need to be forced to change...'
Further in the town, with houses made of timber or wattle and daub with thatch roofs or grass, Alaric eyed some of the animals moving sluggishly and called out to them. Their reactions were delayed, swaying in place before tilting their heads toward him.
'Just nature... Because 'Just nature' can't kill us.'
----------------
-Settlement-
- 20% of livestock contain parasites
-Disease is beginning to spread amongst the livestock. 2% of Northern families have been infected. Lethality: 30%
----------------
"Well, shit," Atlas said flatly. "Alaric might be spoiled with some good connections, but he's right. Just no one will believe him."
Mulling over the numbers, he noted that back in Year 478, the human population was roughly 5,000, with Northerners holding the majority. Now, it was around 5,200 but it looked like another plague-type event was about to set them back again, unless something was done.
"Geri's mind is focused elsewhere, and only the-" Atlas sighed. "Alaric does seem to be catching on that shit everywhere may be a problem. But for this time period? And with what just happened with dead, mutilated corpses? To focus on shit?"
Glancing through the records, it appeared there was some basic knowledge of drinking fresh water and parasites being dangerous, but nothing more.
"The Northern humans will be set back immensely if the disease runs through their town," Wisp commented. "But you only have 122 Divinity remaining. Curing the town isn't feasible."
"That's still plenty for four lightning strikes…" Atlas mused. "Minor Heal isn't an area-of-effect skill. That would cost more. The goblins aren't an issue right now either."
Sighing, Atlas tapped his fingers against the console while staring at Alaric, who was heading toward a house. The homes in the north resembled your typical mix of medieval stone, twigs, thatch or straw piled on top, or the more viking-styled home appearance. Timber walls, thatch roof, support beams inside.
When the roof turned transparent, it revealed a beautiful young blonde woman tending to a sick, more mature woman and father hovering worriedly.
"Well, Alaric, looks like today's your lucky day, again. Or perhaps…" Atlas's gaze shifted to the young woman. "Stereotypical, but she could work as an oracle. 'Chosen by God' is too expensive right now."
"Alaric, savior of Shit City," Atlas declared in a mock-triumphant voice for his own amusement. "Or- this lady! Saintess of the Swimming Turds!"
He snorted as he caught, in the corner of the screen, someone dumping a small bucket of feces into the river.
"Huh. I guess you can't use it all. Or maybe... some people are listening to Alaric. Maybe she- yeah, she is."
Youthfulness on full display, Alaric stepped out from behind a tree, muttering to himself as he tried to hype up his courage. Rehearsing lines, taking deep breaths, shifting his weight from foot to foot, eyes darting nervously toward the house.
Atlas and Wisp watched in amused silence.
"How adorable," Wisp chirped at last.
Atlas raised an eyebrow.
"So you do have a soul."