Quoted By:
It must have been afternoon when you left, as the sun dips towards the horizon as your journey progresses. Your trek through the wilderness takes at least an hour or two – the perfect opportunity for you to needle Jurvaz for more information about the Earth and what became of it.
He's too primitive to know what the present year is, his recollection of time is based entirely on seasons, generations and human lifetimes. He is able to tell you the name of this land however: Franka. It's a fractured land where the disparate factions of mankind unite against the enemy. Soulless, he calls them, heartless devils who turn men into slaves with their mere presence and can conjure clouds of wasps from thin air. You can't help but feel a little reminded of your own memetic techniques – could these Soulless be other survivors who use their memes for ill?
Next, you inquire about these factions he spoke of. Unfortunately, Jurvaz doesn't know much, only what the rare traveller passing through Voss territory was willing to share. He compares the Protectorate to a village of villages in the distant north, a collective of tribes working together to serve the biggest village of all: Justitian. As for the Resistance, it's devoted to fighting the Soulless, to avenging the loved ones that were stolen from them. No one's better at battling the enemy than them, or so the savage insists. Finally, there are the Africans. Jurvaz has never met one but apparently they're ruthless merchants who will buy and sell anything, with no regard for morality. He's even been told that their skin is as black as their souls, but he dismisses that as a rumour.
You eventually arrive at your destination, the village of the Voss. It's rather charming – dozens of wattle and daub huts nestled in a clearing beside the river, built on a high bank in an effort to avoid flooding. Children play and carry baskets full of nuts and berries to their mothers, who seem to be busy mending clothes or preparing meals. As for the men, they're at work skinning the beasts they've hunted or making primitive tools out of wood, stone and sinew. As Jurvaz parades you through the village, almost everyone stops to gawk at you.
“Voss!” Your companion calls out to his people, a triumphant grin on his face. “Voss! I bring you the god who slumbered 'neath the mountain!” By this point, a crowd is starting to gather. Dirty faces stare up at you in awe while Jurvaz orates. “His name is Three Hundred, and he shall save us from the Soulless!” He then turns to you, expectantly.
>Dial it back. You are just a man from another time. You will try to help them but you're not divine and they shouldn't treat you as such.
>Play the part. You will be their saviour and against your might, the enemy won't stand a chance. This should make Jurvaz happy.
>Exploit this. You will take the Voss under your wing and protect them from any threat but in return, they must learn to serve you.
