“It’s pronounced ‘Innish,’ lad. And from my mother’s teat!” The [Merchant] chuckled. “Why, where did you learn it?”

The two men were walking southward, a donkey laden with supplies behind them. The green hills rolled all about them, and the sun beat down in a warm but not unpleasant day.

Charley broke out in a light sweat. Evade. In this conversation lies danger. He thought quickly, “Oh, same place as you. Your mother was a busy woman!”

Anders frowned for a moment. Finally, He broke out in a full belly laugh.

“You’re alright, Charley. You’re alright.”

Close one. Be careful asking to many questions, too quickly. The desire was there to strip this man for everything he knew. He resolved to wait until he could spread out his questions to multiple resources, over time, and reminded himself of the absolute danger that could be waiting for him if anyone knew.

If anyone discovered what he knew about electricity he was pretty sure it would be game over. Let alone cold fusion. No. Don’t even think about it.

Think about how absolutely filthy fucking comfy he could be living if he could reinvent the airplane. Or the microwave.

Mmmmm microwaves.

He tabled thoughts of living comfortably. And even the idea of how mathematically improbable that the place he landed had English as a known language, even if the local accent was abysmal.

Or you know, maybe this particular speaker just had throat cancer and a lisp.

You never know.

Charley asked the thing that had been bothering him since the start of their journey. “So, do you think you could point me somewhere once we get to...where are we going, again?”

Still chuckling, Anders responded “Chimera. Lovely city, I get down here on the regular. It’s a bit cold in the winters, but it doesn’t smell nearly as foul as cities south of here.”

Goodbye flush plumbing, he thought. You were always good to me.

“I’ll get you set up inside the city with my cousin. He’s a good lad. Little money blind, but i’ll set him right.” The merchant tapped his check, “You might be good for each other, actually. His mom has been on me for ages.” He mumbled something darkly to himself.

Anders searched in his pack, and came back with an extra shirt. Charley nodded gratefully, immediately pulling it over his head. It was rough, overlarge, but by damn was it warm.

He felt gratitude rolling through the core of his being for his man. And the immense realization that he was truly lucky the goblins hadn’t found him first.

After a while, Charley finally had to given in and ask.

“Why would your cousin help me?”

“Oh, it’s simple.” The merchant threw a dismissive gesture. “Because he’s broke.”

Charley smiled owlishly. He finally lifted his hand to his head in a mock salute.

“Here’s to capitalism!”

Anders blinked. “What?”

“Here’s to good investments!” Charley didn’t even miss a beat.

“Oh, aye. A blind man would invest in an enchanter. Even a broke, bad one.”

Ouch.

Don’t build a brother up too much, Charley thought to himself. The cringe must have been showing on his face.

Anders patted his back affectionately. “Everyone starts somewhere.”

The mud squelched under his feet.

He recalled that he had landed on an unknown world, and this single fact was the luckiest, craziest, and most interesting thing that had ever happened to him. He was lucky to even be alive. And he got to touch a wormhole, with his hands! Or whatever the exposed violet lines of the universe were.

He immediately started feeling better.

“Bring it on,” he swore under his breath.

--

“Okay, it’s alright to back it off a little bit.” Charley spoke to the sky.

Three days of walking.

Three.

This whole walking around thing, camping without a fire to avoid hostile bands of monsters or worse. Why would anyone do this? He honestly tried to imagine the motivations of someone, for a moment.

Money, obviously.

People who don’t like crowds. Who enjoy clean air. Challenges of nature. Charley quietly shuddered to himself. It wasn’t even worth thinking about how much it wasn’t worth the mud, alone.

He was bruised. And cold in some places and hot in others. He had several blisters on his feet that had popped. Maybe one that was infected. His pants were filthy.

He had been going to the bathroom without soap. And using leaves for cleanup.

It was like his worst memory of summer camp, along with the dawning horror one feels using a porta-potty and realizing it hasn’t been stocked.

And he hadn’t had *any* time to study this new Class, or his shiny hatchet! It was almost criminal, how tired he was after almost twelve hours of walking. He didn’t even remember stopping to break camp the night before.

He made a note to himself: fuck with the fabric of reality at soonest. Thanks, self.

But he was alive, and the wilderness was behind him. Literally. May it stay out there and rot.

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Adventuring was for suckers. Clearly.

The city gates of Chimera were just barely visible ahead. He let out a little “whoop!”

Anders just laughed at him. That was fine. Let him laugh; he was probably having a much better experience. That asshole that closed toed shoes. And a shirt.

Both of them unconsciously increased their pace, getting a shot of energy. They raced a setting sun to their destination.

Hello, civilization. He had missed her.

--

The gates stood a full ten feet, which didn’t seem like much until you took into account that the moat was a river, flowing around the entirety of the city on all sides. Someone had clearly spent a lot of quality time with shovels and a powerful need to divert a major terrain feature for some added security. Charley was visibly impressed with the forethinking displayed with it. The water looked like it had a good current to it, to the point that it would perhaps stay liquid through the winters.

Anders caught him looking. “Aye, that’s the Yuto river, flows out to the ocean in four days by barge, and then to Karkin. You can take a boat from there to anywhere in the world.”

My, Anders was positively chaty. Although he supposed maybe he didn’t like the mud nearly so much, either.

“Appeal to ignorance.” Anders glanced at him, blankly. “A logical..” hmm. “..a bad way to argue. Ignorance isn’t proof of anything, except that sailors are braggarts.”

Anders took that in. And chewed on it. When Charley could see his mind digging at the statement for holes, he smiled. Finally Anders sighed. “You know what, mate. You’re very odd.” A beat later, “You’re right,”

“Hah!” Charley yelled, joyous.

“..but very odd.” Anders finished. Charley conceded the point, but kept the smile.

They got close enough to the gate, that they could make out two men in chainmail, with some strange symbolry bannered on the surcoats.

“Hey Anders. Is that..a goat and a lion facing away from each other, with a snake beneath them?”

“Oh, aye. Good description. The city colors. Personally, I think it's ugly as hell. But they didn’t ask me before they chose them.”

Charley thought about it. “That’s a chimera. Why did they choose a chimera?” And how did they even know about them, he added to himself.

Anders looked at him oddly again. “Because that’s the name of the city. On account to that’s what adventurer’s hunt around these parts.” Anders pointed at the small crenelated towers over the gate.

Charley let out a curse. “Ballista?”

Anders looked irrationally happy, “They still lose one or two a month to a rogue flyer, but it keeps the bugs away, Yeah. They have to winch the bowstring back, bolt the thing into the ground, and most of the frame is plated in iron. Heavy, slow, expensive. But it throws a bolt the size of a man five hundred paces!”

Charley suddenly got much more interested in the subject. Clearly safety was an illusion. What he needed was one of these puppies. And some type of load-feeder.

The two flowed into the city and onto a stone walkway, while Charley dreamed of ways to murder flying monstrosities from a healthy distance away.

People were everywhere. Carrying loads, leading beasts of burden. Horses, a donkey.

The sun was set, and the light was hanging in the sky behind them, an orange glow.

The heat radiated off the cobblestone, and Charley again appreciated how sturdy a road really was. And how much mud so very deeply sucked.

Sure, walking a mile in mud was alright. Walking three days in it with open toed boots was indescribable.

--

They stopped in a district that looked more quiet, the bustle muted from the hour and away from the main drag. The buildings were mostly wood, most of them sporting a second floor. The people in this section of town looked more steady. Movement seemed directed, less lackadaisical.

They were stopped outside a shop that looked like it had seen better days. A weathered sign had three rings in chipped yellow paint above the door.

Anders clapped him on the back reassuringly. “Give me a second here, lad. I’ll go in and set you right with my cousin. Goes by Brand, thinks he’s too good for what his mom named him. Don’t call him Brandon, though. He’s a pure [Trader], through and through. Um. He doesn’t handle change well.” Anders gave him a final pat and strode in the heavy oak door, his information dump complete.

“That was not very reassuring.” Charley spoke to no-one.

A few minutes later, Charley heard yelling. Then threats. Definitely sounded like threats.

Ten minutes later, Anders stepped back out with ruddy cheeks. “Alright. That’s squared then. Don’t let him kick you out or take more than forty percent. I have to remind my wife I exist or most likely I’ll be sleeping here with you two tonight.” He chuckled to himself.

Charley nodded easily. “You’re a good man, Anders. Thanks for not letting me die in the wilderness.”

Anders clapped him on the back again. “Wouldn’t have left yea.” Anders unhooked his pack, and fished out Hope, that beautiful hatchet. He passed it to Charley. “I’ll swing by and check on you in a spell.”

Charley felt another flush of appreciation. He nodded. And then cut the moment with a laugh, “Alright, don’t waste any more time on an urchin. Tell your mom I say hi, and thanks for the Innish lessons.”

With a hearty laugh, Anders stepped away, flashing a sign that was perhaps universal across worlds for ‘go fuck yourself.’ It was good to know some things persisted.

--

“You’re not an [Enchanter].” Brand stared at him suspiciously. He was short, black haired, and looked absolutely nothing like his cousin. He was a younger man, with sharp features. And looked like he knew his way around a negotiating table.

“Nope.” Charley, focused completely on the man in front of him, despite being in a new room half filled with dry goods, odds and ends, and crates. He was aware of how much this mattered.

The merchant fingered the etching on the hatchet in front of him. He had been staring at it for the last five minutes, finally shaking himself out of his stupor. Charley had just let him do it.

You don’t rush from a position of weakness.

“This isn’t even technically an enchantment. It doesn’t do anything.” The [Trader]’s stare turned accusing.

“Absolutely nothing.” Charley agreed with a nod and a smile.

The [Trader] faltered for a moment. “..you’re really bad at negotiating, aren’t you?”

“My whole life.” He wasn’t sure what Anders had said to his cousin, but he was betting that overselling anything wouldn’t play. So he didn’t.

“....Ah.” The [Trader] quieted, still fingering the enchanted object in front of him.

“I notice you haven’t put down the hatchet. This entire time. I’m guessing that enchanting is pretty rare. And expensive.” Even though his face never changed, The [Trader]’s eyes flashed. Charley smiled, and the [Trader] acknowledged the point.

Charley dropped his carrot first. “You get half of everything we sell. And if I need anything I go to you first. If you don’t have it, or if you can’t give me a good deal, then I go to someone else.”

The [Trader] frowned at him, no doubt offended at the absolutely lack of negotiation in the other party. He cleared his throat, “So I need to front you. And I’m guessing feed you.”

Charley nodded happily, “That’s not even the worst of it. I’m also completely new. Level one.”

The [Trader] audibly moaned at this last piece of information, slumping down onto the counter he leaned against. “And why do I need you, exactly? My cousin was a little vague on the details.”

Charley took a moment and took in the front of the shop, turning a full three sixty.

And he saw it.

All the boxes and most of the crated goods had the same stamp on them.

Charley dropped the stick. “You’re broke. Or you’re about to be. And having problems with your largest supplier.” A wince told him he was on track. ”And I’m guessing you have an open room, or your cousin wouldn’t have brought me here.”

Charley let that one sink in and made eye contact. Neither broke it. Charley dropped his last nail, “How many other [Enchanter]’s in the city?”

The [Trader] gnashed his teeth. “Two.”

Charley nodded. “Room and board, get me fronted and rolling. And then we make each other rich. What do you say?” Charley offered his hand.

The [Trader] cracked his first real smile, dropping his hard exterior in a moment. “Brand. Welcome to the Yellow Wall.”

It was the kind of handshake you could build a future on.

“Charley Peace. My friends call me Peace.” He smiled right back, suddenly exhausted and mentally drained from the day’s labors.

Brand noticed. “Let’s get you upstairs, then. We’ll figure out everything else in the morning.”

Charley didn’t even remember walking up the stairs.

Name: Charley Peace

Class: [Natural inscriptionist].

level: 1

Skillset:

[Runic Enchantment]

  [Corvus Enca]. Level: 1. Permanent. Limited to lesser effects.

[Passive: Nimble hands]