Heimurn Chronicles (No, SV, you're a young valkyrie in the middle of a bizarre and dangerous journey)

> It will be almost entirely social, with no straight risks to be murdered by some monstrosity. Although, it doesn't mean that you're completely safe from everything.
> Our girl now resides in the manor of a wealthy and (in)famous line of scholars. It is packed with facilities (from huge library and workshop to gymnasium and small observatory) as well as hirelings of many specialties.
> If your main task in the previous chapter was not to die, here your primary goal would be to manage time in order to learn about the realm, socialize, and raise your capacities. In a sense, this is our girl's prime time of almost unobstructed development.
> You will have to plan weeks or parts of weeks. The limit would be not the time points but major and minor actions quota (complex and time-consuming ventures like learning will require major actions while visiting someone for a chat or picking some book to read before sleep would take minor actions)
> If you would like to properly socialize with someone, you will have to fill a simple template by mentioning the general attitude and what would you like to talk about
> Surely, there will be events and plan-changing circumstances. Some of them will happen because of the plot reasons while others can be unlocked by interacting with others.
> Most of the characters are adjusted to specific tasks and places. Want to save time? You may ask Ulren for some practice and to have a quick chat while on it. Same goes for kitchen staff, alchemist, sorcerer, mistress, and other actors.
> This place has potential recruits to your party of raving lunatics and misfits.
> There will be outdoor and city episodes.
> From the start, Lucy's actions quota will be limited because of her overall ignorance and the necessity to teach her some basic knowledge and language. There will be ways to accelerate the learning process so you would be able to manage the entirety of your time sooner (if only you paid more attention to learning during chapter 1, you would have wasted less time learning basics in chapter 2).
> You won't be able to befriend everyone and learn or discover everything. Chose well.

The measured clicks of the Grandfather Clock, the muffled sounds of mansion dwellers hustling in the building and talking to each other, the warmth of the hearth, and the softness of the bedding. You found yourself in the ambiance of comfort sharply resonating with your injured, tired, hungry and cold self. It was so different from everything you grew accustomed to during the last two week that your frame needed some time to adapt to the change of the environment. And as you began to warm up, your wound also started to actively show itself via dull but growing pain.

Having your attention distracted by the flesh wound, your mind rushed through the events that preceded your arrival here and the dangers that you stumbled at (or, in some cases, they stumbled at you). This rewind resulted in complicated feelings growing in you. First of all, it was scary, if not outright terrifying. The damage your body sustained was nothing compared to the perspectives of being eaten by the predators, killed and then possessed by a ghastly fiend, stabbed or pierced by other people, suffered at the hand of ghouls, mauled and ripped by the giant bone monstrosity, or even heart-stopped in the dream. The recollections of all the possible ways you could have died added to the fresh memories of all the deaths you have seen in the city causing your already foul mood to deteriorate even further.

Your curious mind combed through some questions that no one of your life experience should ask: what did all those people do to deserve such a grim fate at the hands of own kin? What happened to the souls of those people? What lies on the other side of existence? Is it the boundless feeling of inner nothingness, like the one you managed to snug from the very first dram that heralded your awakening to this world? Your very senses protested against the extremely unpleasant thought of being reduced to nothing, sending a shiver down your spine and wetting your eyes.

Unstrung by the flow of negative emotions, your mind dug into something it should have never brought up for your own sake - the people who fled with you and died. There was violence and the panic caused by it. The common sense and the clear judgment were overthrown by the primitive instincts, but now, when you were safe, your conscience was questioning you whether the family of the girl that managed to flee only because of your companions would have survived should you behave differently or were plain better? What if that young woman bearing the new life under her heart would have lived another day should you not bog down everyone else? By asking these questions, you failed to register that your cheeks were already wet.

Catalyzed by the first stains of guilt and doubt on your heart and empowered by overwhelming perplexity, the storm of emotions inside you became imminent. Why is this world so cruel and dangerous? Why did you have to protect yourself and face hardships so early in life? Why the only good memory that you carried away was that innocent snowball fight? Why were you even brought to this broken world? Why you? Why?! You would have cried out loud these questions of only you knew the language, and thus, you had to resort to pouring all this disappointment and abashment with tears, sitting on your knees on the bed and covering your face with hands.

However justified it was, your little embarrassing tantrum didn't last long. Maybe you just needed to let those emotions out of the picture and away from your heart, or maybe you just plain grew bored of sobbing; regardless, you flopped down on the bed, sinking back into the atmosphere of nocturnal coziness. What if things aren't that bad, and you just had a bad start? What if this is the destination toward which Ulren was heading to and picked you up along the way? After receiving some harsh early life experience, you were mentally prepared to wake up and move out another day, but you hoped and the clues hinted that it might not be needed. You scanned the area for soul sparks, distinguishing the one you grew accustomed to and which belonged to your friend one floor below. Despite the cruelty of this realm, he helped and saved you - the totally unfamiliar person - for a few times. Maybe you should try to know his reasons for doing so and to thank him for that? Then, your mind traced back to Sephorah; why did she disappear? Would you see her again? You really hope so, considering that you still have her cloak and a lot of questions you would like to ask and things to... uh... gesture.

It appeared that this place is quite lively. Good, you thought to yourself as you grew to hate staying alone after the events of the previous two weeks. Maybe others would be kind enough to help you to get the hold on things and to help with answering the questions you tormented yourself with a couple of minutes ago. Maybe they would even be interesting and pleasant to communicate with. And the place also seemed so big from the outside, no doubt it holds a lot of facilities to offer. So much novelty and discoveries! By the time you were thinking about it, you already calmed down after the short outburst of repressed emotions, pacified by the thoughts and wishes that things may go uphill from now on.

However, something disturbed you from your musings in a rapid manner: two soul sparks swiftly flying away from the window on the outside, right after emitting a short sound of claws scratching against an iron surface. Having horrible previous experience with windows (you were assaulted through them twice in the two last weeks), you concentrated and unwrapped that knife given to you weeks ago during the encounter with wargs. Just when your mood began to normalize, something requiring your expertise happened again. You sighed grumpily and started to crouch towards the troublesome architectural detail. After making a deep breath in and mustering your bravery, you swiftly peeked through it, noticing nothing peculiar at first - just an idyllic panoramic view of a snow-covered city with rich houses, lightened clocktower, churches, and other architectural wonders. But after taking a moment to enjoy the scenery that spanned beyond the boundaries of the manor ambits, you did notice something - a striped feather of brown colors lying in the messed snow on the outerior window sill. A bird? Or was there a couple of them? Were they peeking at you? Eeh, nevermind. You sighed in relief, venturing back to the bed. Not even thinking about undressing, you slumped on it again, wrapping in the warm coverlet like in a cocoon, and falling into deep, dreamless sleep even before you had a chance to think about the comfort in which you ended up today.

Tickling. Your mind was disturbed in its uncommonly deep but perfectly justifiable slumber by a short-lived sensation. Vaguely recalling that you fell asleep in a presumably safe zone, you wriggled to shake the pesky irritation off and to win a bit more time of sweet rest. Through the veil of a dream, you managed to capture the muffled sound of someone's giggle. Yet, it failed to eject you out from a nap and you headed back to the depths of unconsciousness. However, your rest was disturbed again in a while, and this time you simply could not ignore it like you did before.

You slowly opened your eyes and witnessed a bizarre scene of a whole bunch of people standing, sitting, and kneeling over your bed. You recognized the mistress of this place from yesterday; she was busily writing something down into the notes that she was holding while her scaly pet was harassing the room's chandelier and paying you no attention. Closer to you, there was a lad dressed in robes, sitting on a chair and fumbling with cloth rags, variously shaped bottles, and a bucket of water. His routine with the inventory was not all that efficient as he was staring at you with a studying look not ridden of surprise. But the closest person to you was a hulking man kneeling over you, tying the strings of a wide medical belt for now encasing your injured abdomen and smelling with herbs.

Did... did they unwrap you from the camisole and treat your wound while you were asleep? Even though you had nothing against receiving help with your injury, getting such in a state of sleep felt a little bit awkward if not creepy, so you reflectively slid your hands down to your abdomen only to have them brushed away by the nursing giant, whose smile grew as wide as the bigger moon in the night sky, while he shook his finger at you. The whole scene of you being nursed back to health by a creature of Ulren's dimensions and of totally disarming smile felt surrealistic, but hey - you've seen stranger things already.

You let your 'doctors' do their job without interruptions while feeling that whatever medication methods they applied has already made you feel much better, soothing the irritating pain impulses under the corset-like belt. While finishing fixating the belt, the bulky man turned his attention to the younger lad, giving him brief instructions, and then telling something to the mistress. Being unable to do anything else at the moment, you scanned the surroundings with your supernatural senses. The retrieved feedback was intriguing: both the bulky healer and his apprentice were infused with a certain aspect; an aspect that made you hear their heartbeats, sense vibes of vigor in their metaphorical auras, and overall perceive them as brimming with good health. You could also feel this vigor in yourself, as well as, for some strange reason, the feeling of heightened hunger.

Among other observations was the impression that there was a whole bunch of people standing behind the room's door and peeking at you through the gap. As you slowly shifted your head in that direction, the timely shut door confirmed your suspicion. Why would anyone be afraid of you? And it is not like it was happening for the first time either. Your musings of others reaction on you were cut short as the gentle giant finished his work, allowing the mistress to approach and talk to you.

At first, she was talking to you in a questioning but also emotionless manner, which made you wonder what did she want from you. The lack of her mimics also puzzled you greatly, making it virtually impossible to grasp the context. Seeing you not being able to understand her inquiry, she tried to repeat it on a couple more languages. When that attempt predictably failed, she showed you a piece of her notes containing a few differently shaped lines of text. Yet, the only answer you mustered was but a confused shrug with shoulders and wings alike.

Clearly perplexed by the absence of any answer, the mistress spent about three seconds staring into nothingness and then nodding to no one in particular. Meanwhile, the smaller male clumsily pretended to not stare at you while packing up the inventory and the huge man was still giving the jowly grin of someone who witnessed a living fairytale. Regardless, this awkward stare game was interrupted by the lady, who cried out a command to those jostling behind the door. In a couple of seconds, a noise of minor commotion reached your ears and a young maid in the uniform was shoved into the room (most likely by her co-workers). While her mistress was speaking in command tone, she watched you in a way children would have looked at a fairytale happening before their eyes. And then, while nodding in acknowledgment of instructions received, her grin grew similar to the one the hulking man was giving you. For some reason, there seemed to be only two persons in this house who were not visually shocked by the fact of your existence - the posh lady with the strict vibes and the man who brought you here. Odd, if not alarming.

When everyone except the maidservant left the room, she attempted to talk to you, if that is how one would call a situation where one person talks to another one while blatantly ignoring the fact that the latter can't understand a thing. But at least you managed to deduce from her very lively gesturing that she wants you to follow her. That would be nice, considering that you know almost nothing of what lies behind the room where you spent the night and who else inhabits this place.

In a matter of minutes, she was already dragging you by hand through the ornate corridors of the vast manor, startling occasional maidservants that happened to be on your way and ruining the guards' attempts at napping on a job. Both the windows and the ceilings were high, and judging by the view through the glass, you were on the third floor above the ground level. The interiors were decorated with sturdy furniture and curiosities (like intricate vases, statues, and a bit scary fetishes), the floors were carpeted, and the walls were adorned with the paintings mostly depicting landscapes, plants, and animals you have never encountered before. By the moment you began to struggle to digest the thought that a place like this can exist in the harsh and cruel world to which you woke up two weeks ago, your new guide led you to the room full of humming contraptions, large brass capacities for liquids, and plentiful vapor in the air. That's right - she led you to a bathroom with the intention to help you to wash up a little without touching the elastic belt around your wound, to show how the odd machinery works, and to acquaint with something absolutely mesmerizing - the warm water. While you were busy getting accustomed to the benefits of civilization hands-on, she brought you a white robe-ish dress with the two hastily made cuts on the back to meet the peculiarities of your physique. It also proved to be above your size, with the sleeves hanging down. But hey, it was a nice change to the rags that were your first set of clothes not so long ago.

And if the thought that there are more comfortable ways to satisfy the hygiene and natural needs that do not involve chilling your rear over a snow-drift behind bushes was not cathartic enough, your newfound chestnut-haired friend led you to the vast mess hall at the ground level, filled with saliva-squeezing scene emerging from the kitchen in the half-basement and with a couple of scullions serving dishes full of hearty meal. You saw unarmored Ulren sitting at the table with the smiley giant who tended to your wound earlier, having a lively chat over a juicy steak with bakery, just like old friends would do. After seeing you enter the hall, Ulren smirked lopsidedly and raised his hand in a greeting, while his interlocutor gave you his characteristic grin. The mistress was also sitting at another table, cornered by two more persons: a likely blond clad in a high-collared trenchcoat, and a decadently-looking male with the burn around his left eye. The latter two engaged in an intense debate between themselves after their three (?) eyes studied you up and down. The mistress, however, paid it little attention, preferring to focus on watching your every step with the notes at the hand. Not even her winged reptile pet - the one who was now chomping something under the table with its scaly rear and tail peeking from under the long tablecloth - succeeded in stealing the focus of its master.

Perhaps you would have spent the rest of the day peeking at other people should the scullions not serve you food. During the last two weeks, you grew accustomed to all kinds of foul surprises, but today was different. Minus the feeling of being studied by others like an odd living anomaly and the sharp change of pace, you could feel the careful enjoyment. Even more so when you sunk your teeth into...

[] fried dough envelopes with spicy meat. You hope no one heard your cat-like growls over these delicious proteins.
[] a juicy fruit. If only you weren't busy being so herbivorous, you would have probably wondered where did they get this one in wintertime.
[] a sweet fritter with chocolate. You never suspected what a sweet tooth you have.

After finishing the meal, you contentedly leaned against the chair, relaxedly lowering your wings. So many better things in one day that you might grow spoiled. Lazily, your gaze drifted back towards other attendants of the mess hall. All of them, including the maidservant who brought you here, were listening to Ulren, who was telling a lengthy, elaboratory monologue aimed at others. Now thinking of it, there was one question that occurred to you during the way and which seemed to be well-timed for the occasion. As you slowly walk to him from the side, he interrupted his tale and everyone else except the little reptile that curled on the table near his master focused on you instead.

You knew the question that tortured you, but just as before, its delivery was limited to gestures exclusively. In light of that, you pointed at him with the left hand, then at yourself, and then made a circling motion with the right hand that ended with the index finger pointed at the floor. You could hear a few people whispering to each other and Ulren hesitating for a moment. Then, he nodded at you after giving the mistress lady a short but tense glance. Just to be extra sure, you repeated the inquiry via gesturing and yet again received the affirmative answer along with a pat. It can only mean that against the odds, you have finally reached the destination.

Upon receiving the confirmation that you are here to stay for an indefinite amount of time, you
[] (Write-in the reaction and/or action)

It didn't take you long to decide to come down and ask Amalia - the maidservant girl assigned to aid you - to show you around the place, so you may know where to find all the new people and get an idea on what are they doing in here. Speaking of the new faces, you think you have caused a minor shock by pulling out that names exchange trick that you previously used in the haunted fort. Perhaps, the mistress had to digest the evidence that you are aware of the basic concepts of sociability, but after what seemed like an awkward pause and a brief explanation by Ulren (to which she did not answer, however), the lady introduced herself and those surrounding you. If you memorized all of their names correctly, then the mistresses name is supposed to be Rosaline Dalgaard, the uniformed blonde's name is Erika Holt, the burned man bears the name of Karl Norskov, the bulky healer was simply introduced to you as Claudius. The handmaiden to which you were now coming down introduced herself back then - when lady Rosaline apparently forgot about her existence, she squeezed into the conversation and spoke out her name anyways, which is Amalia, Amalia Brant.

It wasn't long until you caught Brant readying to leave her room. When she saw you, she gave you a faint smile and froze in her place wondering what brought you so early after being left to own devices. In high spirits, you attempted to gesture her that you want her to show you around. But that only caused Amalia to raise one of her brows questioningly and to ask you something. For the second time, when you pointed at yourself, at her, placed her hand on your wrist, and then pointed around you, she managed to grasp your request. Dragging you by the hand and chirping lively (even though realizing that you can not understand her), she was indeed an eccentric change compared to your very first guide. But it was amusing in a way, and you willingly followed.

However, despite your expectations or, perhaps, hopes, she dragged you in the opposite direction from the kitchen. Through the carpeted floors and decorate corridors adorned with curiosities and heavy curtains, you found yourself in a parlor filled with soft furniture, equipped the decoratively enriched hearth, a few conveniently-situated showcase cabinets filled with books and curiosities, an oddly-shaped object with a row of ivory keys in front, and with the uncommonly acute scent hanging in the air. The place oozed with comfort and serenity, but it was not hard to imagine group gatherings taking place here, where attendants can enjoy the company in a cozy atmosphere. Past the showcase with an intricately painted vase and a couple of large portraits on the wall, you approached the odd object that captivated your attention. Carefully, you pressed one of the keys, immediately recoiling as the wooden box reacted to your poking with a single high-pitched ring, seconded by the muffled giggles of Amalia. Trying not to laugh at you (much), she took you by hand and led further into the estate's wing.

She dragged you onwards through a corridor with most of the doors closed along the way and but a few residents tending to their chores behind them. You threw a quick glance through a doorway gap along the way, capturing the scene of two maidservants clad in the same uniform as Amalia fiddling with laundry and metal contraptions over a conversation in a room full of lockers, chests, tubes, and clothes drying on ropes. You also attempted to peek into the room that followed next, but, judging by the pulling force of your guide, she considered it unworthy of your attention. Same happened by the time you reached the corner staircase leading upwards and to the basement, but this time she let you take a peek into the hall had marked the corner. Inside, you saw a spacious yet deprived of masterful furniture gymnasium, featuring segments with polished stone floorings, racks with uncarefully nested weapons, practice dummies akin to those you saw in the haunted fort (although in much better condition), a few wooden benches, and a rack with maintenance tools piled on it. You also spotted a poorly-hidden empty bottle peeking at you from under one of the benches. Apparently, neatness is not the main virtue of those who manage this hall.

The stairway brought you up to the second floor, and in a minute the two of you were standing behind the heavy wooden doors in a hall mightily distinct from those you have just seen: rather big, with a lot of bookcases, with workstations bearing the devices made of metal or glass, with schematics and maps pinned to the walls and the panels separating the workstations, with heavy chests and tall lockers concealing stones, bottles, dried herbs, and other materials. Although there were even more peculiarities to this room, as your gaze hovered over a stand with faintly glowing crystal, a mechanical model depicting eight differently-shaped wooden spheres simultaneously moving on their orbits and making faint tickling sounds, a heavy cabinet hosting many jars filled with liquid and some amorphous bits, a big wall tapestry depicting a tree-like scheme, and a...

You shrieked and recoiled away from where you saw a huge, non-human skull staring at you with its eyeless gaps and gaping maw with saber-like teeth. Your shriek startled your guide and the trajectory of your fall caused a couple of bottles to slid down from the table that absorbed your impact and to shatter against the floor. What was even more sudden, was the fact that Amalia's face filled with poorly suppressed giggles instead of the terror of the skeletal fiend which, unlike the one that assaulted you in the ruined fort, remained absolutely motionless. Seeing your confusion, she helped you up and then approached the damned skull, playing with its lower jaw and parodying something in a silly manner with her face. Even if relieving, it was not very funny, not after you saw a thing like that almost dispatch you and your companions. Thank goodness this one was just a pile of powerless bones wired to each other with a copper thread and left hanging as an exhibit.

You regained your breath, but not for long - the sound of shattering glass attracted someone from nearby to inspect the source of the noise, signaling their approach with the sounds of footsteps echoing from the corridor. Instantaneously, Amalia's face curved into a half-guilty and half-mischievous grimace. She gestured you to keep quiet for the time she fiddled with the lock on the side door leading to this hall. Once the lock surrendered, she grabbed you by the hand and swiftly dragged after herself in the depths of the adjusted room, hiding from the "crime scene". Both of you quickly snuck out through a compact hall with a cathedra and a lot of benches to the second-floor corridor, pretending that you have just arrived here and had nothing to do with the mess in the workshop.

The next stop of your tour was also on the second floor. Once you have passed artfully carved wooden doors, your eyes grew almost as large as the chocolate bagel you have had earlier, for now, you were standing in a huge two-leveled hall that was filled with bookcases and speckled with work desks. Books. So many books that it almost made you forget about the one Ulren never tried to read for you. To think how much knowledge is encrypted in all this print... someone's going to have a hard time turning down your requests to read, ha!

While you were distracted by plotting, a pinky lizard tail drew your attention by disappearing between shelves. Seems like the mistresses' pet, and judging by the voices reaching you from another side of the hall, lady Rosaline and madam Holt were also here, browsing for whatever book they deemed needed. Not thinking long, Amalia brought you to them, engaging in conversation with the two ladies who seemed properly surprised by your presence. Probably you would have enjoyed talking to them, but the most you could do was to read their expressions during their exchange. Eventually, their collective focus of attention shifted to you, as they caught you staring at the book with a leathery maroon cover. Seeing that, Rosaline handed it to you and stood up to watch what would you do with it. The fact that you opened it, skimmed through the pages with unfamiliar text, and then stumbled watching at the hand-drawn illustration of the multitude of men shooting arrows from the coastal tower at the ship made her hesitantly write down a note in her papers before taking the book from you. You could tell that she wasn't expecting that. Regardless, after talking to the others a bit more, Amalia continued your little excursion, leaving the ladies to whatever brought them to the library in the first place.

The next stop was on the third floor, by the ornate closed doors. After making sure that she has your attention, Amalia gathered her hair to make an improvised tail and put on a mockingly smug grimace. Seems like she was trying to tell you that behind her were the quarters of the mistress. She didn't lead you there, though, just made sure you know for whatever reason she deemed necessary. Instead of violating others privacy, she led you to the large balcony facing the inner yard and a part of the city. By that time, the sun almost hid behind the crimson horizon, and both moons were already visible in the winter skies. Your glance drifted from the lights inside the inner yard glasshouse (that effectively occupied 2/3 of the whole inner yard space) to the black city roofs, from gothic spires to the illuminated city watchtower. The scenery was indeed picturesque. Perhaps, you even enjoyed it aesthetically. Both of you stood there until the city lights began to lit up, speckling otherwise dark urban silhouette. But then, Amalia made an awkward facepalming gesture and began to pull you back into the manor. It seemed like she remembered something and was now in haste because of that.

You figured out where she was leading you on the half way to the destination - seems like you were about to hit the mess hall (yay!). By the time of your arrival, a couple of scullions and a served deep dish with soup were waiting for you. Even the cook - the rather tall, lathy man clad in funny hat and apron - was looking at you from the entrance to the basement kitchen. Curious, you inspected the content of the bowl: spiced soup with dough-coated dumplings. Despite the unfamiliar look, the hearty dish tasted splendid. After devouring it, you mellowed on the chair. You were in the risk zone to grow spoiled by the local food. Perhaps, you even realized that, but it did not prevent you from trying to inquire via gesturing about that sweet fritter you tried out earlier. Regrettably, the only answer you got from the slightly amazed cook was a negative headshake. Bummer? Bummer.

But again, that mischievous spark glimmered in Amalia's eyes as she definitely came up with an idea. Unsurprisingly, that idea involved the softened and relaxed you following her to the doorway leading the inner yard. It took her a couple of minutes to find a lamp in one of the adjusted rooms, and with it lit she led you on the fresh air. Not for long, though, as she opened the door to the glasshouse and swiftly squeezed you and herself in. The purpose of this structure became known to you when she lifted up the lamp towards the leafy branches of the trees inside. You were now in an orangery. A big, glassy house full of vegetation that did not go dormant due to the controlled climate inside. You had a small cathartic moment after seeing the green of the trees, bushes, and potted plants. You can say that even the smell inside was different - sappy and rich. You took some time wandering among the rows of the labeled and carefully administered plants, brushing your fingers against the leaves. You really need to see this place in daylight. However, it became apparent that Amalia brought you here not just to gaze around when she carefully plucked a fruit and handed it to you. A round, reddish fruit with a firm peel.

That was the most picturesque and also the last place of interest you saw that day as your newfound friend led you back to your designated chamber, peeled the fruit for you, and left you in peace after the short time of silly attempts to "conversate". Content, satiated, and warm you flopped on the bed. Good things also happen, as it seems. So far, it was probably the best day you've had so far. Ulren also seemed rather relieved today, which meant that things were looking up for him as well. Once you thought about that, your glimpse slid to the window and the world beyond it; how was Sephorah doing, you wondered. And why did she left both of you shortly after passing the city walls? You could only hope to find the answers. But enough with all these thoughts. As you decided on taking the more proactive approach from tomorrow on, since you gain some degree of awareness from today, you dug yourself under the blanket and dozed off with a content grin.