Zachary, The Newly Cursed (Blessed)

After the second message faded, Zachary lay there, perfectly still for as long as he could. He didn’t like this, not at all. That first message, about Evermore, his life and world had been so stable, so untroubled. Why would anyone change that? What was wrong with living his whole life as a tailor within the city walls? He had dreamed of adventure, sure, as had most everyone. But the life of a tailor was easy and challenges were scarce. He was happy enough.

He remembered the tavern he often went to after a long day in the shop. It was nice enough. That barmaid was definitely nice in all the right ways...

A few nostalgic moments later he wondered what her name was. He couldn’t recall. How long ago had he last been there? Two nights ago, right? Then what was her name? He pondered it with increasing concern. It was only two nights ago, so he should remember. He should also remember the name of the tavern, but that eluded him as well. It was as if the tavern and the barmaid were a dream, quickly fading as he awoke. Was this the work of whoever “relocated” him?

It was hardly fair of them, he thought, taking away everyone’s lives. And for what? Hardship and uncertainty? Why would anyone want that? The gods were truly inscrutable this time, for they must be gods to pull off what that message said. He pondered it for a few moments, but all he found was confusion and a slight headache.

Eventually, a couple minutes later, Zachary admitted the first defeat to his new reality. He opened his eyes and acknowledged the inputs of his senses.

The world around him was dim and grey. There was neither a sun nor a moon, only a faint line of light on one horizon. He could just barely make out the shape of hills on the lighted horizon. Everywhere else was inky black, a simple absence of light. He couldn’t even make out his own clothing. His eyes were decent, as tailoring required a good eye and steady hands, but he could see nothing more than that faint horizon.

Despite his practical blindness at the moment, he could use his other senses to deduce some of his situation. His clothes were a set he had adjusted and embroidered for himself. Simple in comparison to some of the pieces he worked on for the lowest nobility, much cheaper for sure. They were intended to demonstrate his ability more than any true function. As such, it was okay that they were likely being soiled by the grass and earth he felt beneath himself. The thought of any finer fabrics being subjected to this sort of treatment sent a momentary shudder though him.

He could discern little more without light, so he resigned himself to waiting for the Sun to rise further. Hopefully it was not just the last light of day. Considering his options, he decided to check his stats. Perhaps these gods had taken pity on him and given him something to help with this new “uncertain” Evermore.

Zachary, Level 10 Tailor
Stats:
Health - 70
Stamina - 25
Mana - 30
Nutrition - 28
Attributes:
Endurance - 7
Strength - 6
Coordination - 16
Focus - 8
Intelligence - 13
Traits:
Curse of Knowledge - Can acquire any trait, skill, or spell at will. The curse erases 2 random traits, skills, or spells when activated (excluding this curse).
Dexterous Hands - Can execute precise, minimally taxing actions unusually quickly.
Skills:
Tailoring - Create and customize cloth items.
Inspect cloth - Learn the properties of cloth items.
Trading - Trade with wares and money, and know the value of common items.
Spells:
Guidance (sustained) - Imbue a creature with your will, making it easier for them to carry out actions you designate. Strengthened by knowledge of the designated actions.

Indeed, how did he guess? He had a curse now. Thank the gods. He seriously considered ignoring it out of spite. He couldn’t though. Years of tailoring and trading had taught him one very important thing: read and listen to everything. If a client says she wants a crimson bow on her dress, don’t give her a red bow. So he read and considered the curse.

It wasn’t actually that bad, assuming he really had control over it. If the Curse of Knowledge could teach him how to defend himself or survive, he would be willing to forget all those special stitches. He would be bitter about it, but living as anything would be better than dying as a pretty good tailor.

By this time, the sun was visible above the horizon. As the land around him gained color, it became apparent he was on a grassy hilltop. Other hills surrounded his in all directions, most smaller, but a few larger. None within sight were less than 50 feet from base to top. A dragon could fit between them and remain invisible to anyone not on the surrounding slopes. The thought sent a shiver down his spine.

On the other hand, anything built on one of the taller hills would have a relatively commanding view. Funny that the first thing he thought of was building something. He hadn’t become a tailor without reason, he supposed he had wanted to make stuff and to make something of himself. There just weren’t many options in the city.

Now though, he had so many options his head was spinning. He needed something to do right now, so he decided to just look only one step ahead for the moment. He needed food and water soon, that’s what couldn’t wait.