Red Oak was at their backs as they travelled along the stone road heading westward. The pair were travelling with Jurot, who was currently laying inside a cart that was being pulled by a mule. He was wrapped in a number of blankets, and near his dead body was a sack filled to the brim, though Adam didn’t really know what was in it.
The pair would be travelling together for a week, a long time all things considered. In fact, if Adam recalled correctly, he had been in this world for about as long. This was his eighth day, the first day of the journey, so by the time they reached the Iyr he’d have spent half his time away from Red Oak as he had spent inside the town.
“Lovely day, isn’t it?” Paul asked as he motioned his head towards the sky. “It’ll rain in a few days so it’s best to enjoy what you see.”
Adam looked up to see that though the sky was slightly cloudy, it was quite lovely. There was a sea of blue beyond the cloud, like a melted ice cream topped with whipped cream.
“It is quite lovely,” Adam said with a nod of his head. “How do you know it’ll rain?”
“It was divined before we left, one of the few things I checked. We can spend that day within a village, it shouldn’t last too long.”
“Will it delay us too long?”
“No, we’ll manage to get to the Iyr within a few days.”
“Won’t it take a week?” Adam asked. That’s what Jurot had told him.
“It would,” Paul said, a small smiling growing across his lips, “if you followed the normal way.”
“We’re not following the normal way?” Adam asked. What did that mean? He didn’t like the way Paul had said that, and the smile had caused him some grief.
“No,” Paul said with a shake of his head. He paused for a long moment, as though waiting for Adam to ask the next question, but it seemed that the man was too impatient, though that was partly because Adam made no move to ask. “I know a much better way around.”
Adam stared up at Paul’s sparkling eyes. They were filled with something, Adam wasn’t entirely sure whether it was mischief or confidence. It could have been both.
Adam remained quiet for a long moment. “Is the next town nearby?”
“About a day’s walk,” Paul said casually. “We’ll arrive with plenty of time spare. We’ll take a short break during lunch and then we’ll continue. We should arrive a few hours before dusk.”
Adam was about to ask about the next town over when he thought perhaps it would be best not to, after all he didn’t want to seem too naive about the world. It was then he realised he had already shown his naivety in revealing he didn’t know how far the next town was, in which case he probably should go ahead and ask about the next town. It had been too long though, and now doubted if he should continue the conversation. Would it be too awkward after such a pause? Adam’s hands grew clammy at the thought, as clammy as they could for one with fey-blood running in their veins.
“S-so,” Adam stuttered, trying to catch himself, “what’s the next town like?”
“It’s a little smaller than Red Oak. It’s called Appleton, it’s the sister city to Red Oak. Whereas the trees within Red Oak could be used for weapons, the trees that grow in Appleton can grow some of the most delicious apples. They have a small guild there, as most that want work just come to Red Oak or Baneland instead.”
“Oh, is that so… how many people live in Appleton?” he asked. He took note of the name Baneland, which he assumed to be another town.
“About fifteen thousand or so?”
“What about Red Oak?”
“Can you take a guess?”
“Twenty five thousand?” Adam said, trying to do some mental math of how much bigger he thought Red Oak could be.
“You’re not far off, twenty five thousand is about right. We’re not quite twice as big, but we’re close to it. Red Oak had trees more suited for work and war, so people tended to flock to it more.”
“Ah. So there are delicious apples in Appleton? Does that mean they make great cider?”
“That they do,” Paul said with a grin. “We’ll grab some in the town.”
Adam nodded his head. That sounded rather obvious to him, that the town that could grow great apples would have decent cider. Then another thought crossed his mind.
“What about pies?” Adam asked as he looked up. He was rather hungry all of a sudden, even though he had consumed a large breakfast in the morning.
“Apple pies?” Paul said. “We’ll just have to wait and see when we arrive.” Paul laughed in the way that confirmed that there would be apple pies, though there seemed to be a mischief in those tones again. Was that just how he laughed, or was there something that Paul wasn’t telling him?
Adam was rather surprised at Paul’s behaviour. Paul didn’t seem quite so cold as he first appeared, more of a cool uncle type. Adam wondered how old Paul had been and why he had stopped adventuring.
They made for lunch, eating a few of their rations as they rested. Paul reached into a small pouch he had at his side and pulled out a small cask that had been filled with water. The cask had been too big for the pouch, but Adam’s eyes sparkled as he understood what it was, or rather, what he assumed it was.
“Is that a…” Adam asked, raising his brow.
“A chill bag, that’s right.” Paul nodded his head. Adam actually hadn’t expected that, but that wasn’t far off from what he expected. “We have quite a bit of food and water, so we don’t have to worry about starving on the way to the town.” So the bag was similar, holding extra space within it, but also kept everything cool?
“That’s good,” Adam said as he started to eat some of the biscuits in his rations. His rations were mostly nuts, dried fruit, as well as some hard biscuits that seemed to last a short while considering he had them for almost a week and they didn’t have that weird taste or texture where it seemed as though the biscuit would slowly turn into clay.
Paul offered over a carrot from the chill bag and Adam gratefully accepted, biting into the hard skin as he chewed. It was chilled, the bag certainly held up to its name. Paul offered a carrot to the mule as well, who came over and then began to chew in the way mule’s did, with their mouths moving slightly aside as they chewed.
“Are you alright?” Paul asked.
“Yeah, I’ve travelled fairly long distances like this before,” Adam replied as he took another bite of the carrot.
“That’s not what I meant,” Paul said with his brows raising slightly.
Adam’s lips quivered and he nodded. “I’m fine, I guess.”
“Sounds like you aren’t fine.”
Adam looked down at the half bitten carrot and then took another bite. “I suppose you’re right.”
“Is it the first time you’ve seen someone die?”
“Like that, yes.”
“What of your parents?”
“I didn’t see them die.”
“Can I ask how they died?”
Adam looked down at the carrot. “They were torn away from me.”
“How?”
“Magic.”
“Are you sure they’re dead?”
“I’ll never see them again, that means they’re dead.”
“Sorry for asking,” Paul said.
“No, it’s alright. If I don’t want to answer, I won’t answer.”
“In this field of work, death is inevitable.”
“It is.”
“It doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to mourn though.”
“You’ve been adventuring for a long time, right?”
Paul nodded. “About twenty years I adventured.” Paul took a bite of his carrot. “I’ve seen my fair share of death.”
“What was the closest you’ve ever been?” Adam asked.
“I’ve been dead before,” Paul said with a small smile. “Not long though, just a few seconds. I was revived quickly after by the good graces of my cleric, which was quite the surprise. She didn’t really like me.”
“Why?”
“Why did she save me, or why did she not like me?”
“Yes,” Adam said with an innocent smile.
Paul raised his brows. “Well… we never get on the right foot. Our parties had been rivals for a long while. Then we had both lost half of our parties and so… we did what most people did, we combined parties. She was the leader of her party and I was the leader of mine, so you can probably guess what happened. We ended up butting heads often because we each had our vision of what to do and what was right in the situation.” Paul smiled. “The first thing she said to me when she saved me was that I was an idiot and how much she hated me.”
“Did she hold that over your head?”
“Yeah, she did.” Paul laughed as he continued to eat his carrot.
“What were you facing that you almost died? What manner of creature was it?”
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“What was it? A flamehound, I think? No, no… that was something else. Was it a… I think it was a construct, a golem.”
“A golem?” Adam asked as his brows raised in surprise. A golem. Golems were constructs, usually made up of a particular material like stone or wood, that would obey a master, usually.
“That’s right. We were in a dungeon and we were fighting all sorts of construct, but the final creature was a clay golem. It was quite the enemy.”
“I can only imagine,” Adam said. He knew from various games he played that golems were quite tough.
“Well one day you may face a clay golem, though I do hope your party is up for a fight.”
“I don’t think I’ll have a party for a while,” Adam admitted. He didn’t want to experience such a heavy loss again.
Paul nodded. “One day you might, in order to defeat the greatest of creatures.”
“Or I’ll just become so powerful that I don’t need a party.”
“Everyone needs a party,” Paul said. “A party isn’t about increasing your fire power, it’s about the bonds.”
Adam looked down at his nearly finished carrot. “I suppose you’re right.”
“One day you’ll find a party that will accept you wholeheartedly. Hopefully you’ll still be near Red Oak so I can see, but I’m sure you’ll travel around the land and see what the other guilds are like.”
“So can I head into any other guild and work there?” Adam asked. He wanted to make sure. Exploring a new city could be fun, though he’d need to reach a certain level of strength in order to hold such respect.
“As long as you have your token, yes. The guilds are all part of the same network. Some people in the cities might not take you so seriously since you’re from our branch, but don’t worry about it.”
“Why won’t they take me serious?”
“A town guild branch is different to a city guild branch. City guilds are many times bigger and the quests there usually are fought for by many different parties, which makes it a little difficult to rank up. In towns it’s usually a little easier.”
“Ah…” Adam didn’t quite understand, but the look in Paul’s eyes let him know that it was the right reaction.
“City adventurers usually look down on town adventurers, and town adventurers do the same. There are enough parties that cross and mix between the two, but that’s how it usually goes.”
It was a little past afternoon when he could see the walls of the town up ahead. Appleton was quite a bit smaller than Red Oak, and there were no towers on either side, instead the walls had a bastion that jutted out. The town also seemed to have apple trees all about, strewn between buildings, either side of the roads, as well as a small area that was walled off to the side of the city where there was a giant orchard. Off in the distance was a forest, and a river cut nearby the town, near the orchard where there were more bastions. There were about as many figures near the orchard walls as there were on the walls of the city.
Eventually a guard began to step forward to meet with the pair, about to raise their hand when Paul removed his helmet. The guard looked over, pulling up his visor to reveal a face of surprise.
“Oh, if it isn’t Paul,” the guard said. He was a young guard, probably in his mid twenties or so, with copper hair and pale skin. His eyes were a light hazel.
“How’s it going Chipper, how’s the missus?”
“Oh she’s doing mighty fine. We’re expecting.” The guard flashed a toothy grin.
“Another girl?”
Chipper shook his head and sighed. “I’ve prayed to Omir every day since I’ve found out. I don’t want a sixth girl, the other five are driving me up the walls!” The look in his eye was that of a man at his wits end.
“Is that why you’re on front duty?” Paul joked. “At least you still have all the dresses.”
“Well a girl would be cheaper,” Chipper said as he brushed his chin. “Don’t need to buy all new clothes for a boy.” Chipper chuckled. “What brings you to Appleton?”
“We’re heading our way to the Iyr,” Paul said. “We’re planning on sleeping the night and then making our way.”
The guard nodded. “What’s in the cart?”
“We’re bringing a body back to the Iyr,” Paul said.
Chipper raised his brows. “By Omir’s will,” he said. “What rank were they.”
“He was copper.”
“A man of the Iyr?” The guard asked incredulously.
“He was. He faced a herbearvore and two brown bears.”
The guard let out a sigh. “Men of the Iyr,” he said, shaking his head.
“Men of the Iyr,” Paul replied as he shared the same notion.
The guard glanced at Adam for a moment, taking a peek of the token. “Whose the iron boy?”
“This is Adam,” Paul motioned over with a hand.” He and Jurot of the Iyr, both faced the creatures together.”
The guard bowed his head. “I’m sorry about your friend.”
Adam returned with a nod, not saying anything more.
“Alright, well, I’ll leave the pair of you to your business.” The guard bid them in to the town.
The pair were welcomed by the noise of the town, which was not quite as noisy as the town of Red Oak, but it was noisy enough. People moved about with a great slowness in this town, there were many people who sat outside with tables between them, playing a game or just smoking or drinking and chatting about with one another.
Paul led the pair forward through the main street, heading straight down until they had come across an inn with a stable nearby. There was a boy working there, wearing plain clothing the same colour as mud, which matched his hair and eyes. He rushed up to Paul when the saw the man.
“Is that you, mister Paul?” the little boy asked.
“Right that is, little Jimmy,” Paul said as he removed his helmet.
“I’d recognise you anywhere, mister. Can’t get between my eyes.” The boy brought his fingers to his eyes and then flicked them at Paul with great pride, a giant cheeky grin plastered across his lips.
“Isn’t that right, isn’t that right. Where’s the boss?”
“I’ll go get him,” Jimmy said as he scampered away to the inn. Soon a short stout man sauntered out of the inn. He saw Paul and his face went from grim and sleazy to light and sleazy.
“If it ain’t ol’ Paul, what’cha here for?” the man said, coughing a moment later.
“For your good and right services, of course,” Paul said as he turned to Adam and winked. “Just here to see if you’d let me stable up for the night and if you’d look after my package.”
“What’s this, another dead body?” The short man said as he waddled over and threw a look at the cart. “I was only jokin’, but seems to be the case. Who is the unfortunate bastard?”
“A man of the Iyr.”
The short man whistled. “Shit. That’s some shit. I don’t want to know, I don’t need that unluck in my life. It’ll be a gold for the night, I’ll have Billy looking after it in the night and I’ll be sure to throw in some oats and vegetables.”
“Sounds like a fair price to me. I’ll pay you in the morning, after I see what kind of sack you bring.”
The short man raised his brows but nodded. “Sounds fair to me,” he said as he shook Paul’s hand and then waddled towards the small building, which was more of a small room, that was beside the stable.
Paul left the cart and mule in Jimmy’s hands as he led Adam inside into the inn. It was full of people, a group of adventurers were off to one side, but there were a great many common folks in smocks, light clothing, and some that were all but nude, save for their shorts and boots.
“Oi oi, it’s old man Paul,” a young woman said. “What brings you about?” She was leaning over the counter, resting her forearm against the counter, her other arm holding her side. She was in her teens or so, with short red hair and a tattoo of a snake that went down the side of her neck.
“I’m not that old, kid,” Paul said. “Looking to stay the night. I need a hot bath, a hot meal, and a room.”
“Whose the metal man?” the teen asked, her gaze flicking all about Adam’s form.
“This is Adam,” Paul said as Adam took off his helmet and placed it down on the counter.
The teen whistled. “An elf!” she exclaimed.
The patrons all hushed down at the word and turned to leer towards Adam, who grew suddenly flush and frightened. This was not what he had expected, partly because he had half forgotten what he was.
“Only half,” Adam said as a joke, trying to deflect any prying eyes.
“Don’t see much of your kind around,” the red-haired teen said.
“Just passing by on some business,” Adam said.
“He’s a promising new recruit, I do hope none of you bully him too much.”
“An iron rank, huh? What’s the worst you’ve ever faced?” the teen asked.
“A herbearvore,” Adam replied, thinking she was asking about beasts.
“A herbearvore?” the girl’s mouth dropped. “Really?” Her eyes snapped to Paul, who nodded and smiled. “Wow! A herbearvore! How did you manage that?”
“Myself and Jurot, we dealt with it.”
“Jurot, huh? The two of you did it together?”
“We did.”
“That’s amazing. I can’t believe you two managed to defeat a herbearvore by yourselves. Do they build iron ranks different in Red Oak?” she said as her eyes fell to Paul.
Paul just smiled. “Jurot was a man of the Iyr,” he said.
The teen frowned. “Oh. Is that the case? No wonder you beat a herbearvore then.” She deflated.
“Ya see?!” a drunken voice called from the edge of the inn. “Ah told you that the half-blood’s no good! He probably paid the Iyrman a good sum to get him up to iron, bet he’ll do it all the way to bronze. The pockets of an elf are as deep as their bullshit.” The man who spoke was a labourer of some kind, the same kind of person who wore no shirt in an inn as he drank away his sorrows. He had dark hair and dark eyes, his body was that of a man that had worked in labour his entire life, quite well built.
“Don’t mind him,” Paul said.
“I don’t take my wisdom from drunkards,” Adam replied, feeling rather proud of himself for such a quip.
“What did that half-breed say?” the drunkard stood up, dropping his mug and wiping his wet lips with the back of his powerful arm.
“I said,” Adam began, “I don’t take my wisdom from drunkards.”
“You watch your mouth, knife-fucker!” the man pointed at Adam, his dark eyes hazy from the drink. “I’ll fuck’n kill you!”
Adam pulled back. His eyes flashed to Paul, who shook his head, as though telling the half-elf to not take the drunkard too serious. Adam returned with a nod, understanding the sentiment.
“Look at him hide! A pathetic, fucking half-breed, who doesn’t know his place. You don’t belong here!” The man stumbled forward.
Adam looked to Paul, who shook his head again. Paul stepped up and then stood between the pair, raising a hand for the drunkard to stop.
“What are you doing, Paul? Looking after that elf bitch…”
“Sit down,” Paul said with a low voice, “before I make you.”
The drunkard stared up at Paul and then looked to Adam. “Coward,” he said as he spat at Adam, striking him across the cheek. It seemed the man was quite practised at such a thing, or just very lucky.
Adam cringed at the spit visibly, his fists clenching together. He wanted to slap the man so badly, his British sensibilities were failing him. He knew what it would look like if he did though, a half-elf punching a human? Even if he was in the right, he doubted the humans that heard the story would see it that way.
“Who the fuck is spitting at my customers?” called a harsh voice from behind. Coming out of the kitchen was a heavy set man who was almost as tall as the ceiling. He had short red hair and a tattoo going down the side of his neck, the same tattoo that the teen had. His dark eyes snapped to the drunkard who was stumbling away. He bounded forward and grabbed the drunkard by his collar, causing the man to yelp in surprise, and then in three steps the large man was at the door tossing the drunkard out.
“I don’t care if you don’t like elves, but don’t go starting fights in my inn. Anyone losing me coin is welcome to spend their’s elsewhere, because I know how much elves tip and it’s more than you cheap fuckers,” he snarled as he nodded to Adam. “The half-elf’s with you, aye Paul?”
“He is.”
“Sorry about that,” the man said, “don’t take it personally. I’m sure you’re used to it.”
“I’m afraid so,” Adam replied.
“I’ll get you a wet rag to clean up,” the man said as he returned back to the kitchen and then brought out a wet rag as he had said. He passed it to Adam.
Adam cleaned up the side of his face. “Thank you,” he said. He didn’t like people spitting at others, but it was something that he had seen quite often when he’d take the bus into town.
“This the half-elf that beat the Captain’s boy?” the man asked Paul.
“He’s the one,” Paul said, puffing up his chest.
Adam raised his brows in surprise. How did the people in this town know about that? It hadn’t really happened that long ago, and he certainly didn’t expect it to travel so quickly.
Oh right, this was an inn. Inns, as most people know, are dens of information. If the innkeeper didn’t know, then this was no decent inn at all. That made sense to Adam, who was glad he was quite smart in this world.
“Well shit, and he’s only iron?”
“Politics,” Paul replied.
The innkeeper raised his brows. He turned to Adam and extended a hand. “Charles.”
“Adam,” Adam said as he shook the man’s hand.
“I’m Elly,” the teen said with a smile. “So you’re the one that beat that Alten boy?”
“That’s right,” he said.
“Was this before or after the herbearvore?”
“Before,” Adam said. “The herbearvore was only yesterday.”
“Yesterday?” the girl said with her brows up in alarm. “So why are you here and not celebrating?”
Adam looked to Paul who cleared his throat. Adam found it a little awkward to say, and he wasn’t sure if he should be the one telling the others what happened.
“We’re on business.”
“You Red Oak boys work too hard,” Elly said, “don’t know how to party.” She stuck out her tongue at Paul. Charles whipped her with the wet rag as she ducked, though was still struck in her hair. She swiped up her hair and pulled it back as she glared at her father. “It means you got coin though,” she said with a wide grin.
“We’ll get you a decent room as an apology,” Charles said.
“I’ll be sure to leave an elf sized tip,” Paul said, dropping down an obsidian disc.
Charles whistled and accepted it. “I’ll see what I can do. Might have to kick some guys out of the good rooms.”
The doors behind swung open. “Away with you, you drunken fiend!” exclaimed a familiar voice.
Adam sat up. The voice was very familiar. He was sure he had heard it before. No, no. He definitely knew that voice. He turned to see a villain in a heavy cloak of imperial purple, a shiny breastplate that was only recently marked by a blade, with a sabre at his side.
“Alten,” Adam whispered, but the silence of the inn had allowed it to carry forward as though on a breeze.
“Who calls my na-” Alten said before his eyes caught sight of Adam, quickly filling with alarm and fear.
“Well, if Omir doesn’t come on the weekend,” Paul said. “Isn’t this a delight.”