As they approached the city, the forest starting just past the River Lea grew larger and older with each stride. The trees themselves grew taller and taller until seeing the top was a pointless exercise in neck strain.
Entrance into Elgelica proper was far less eventful. A simple gate fee of 12 coppers and they were in without so much as a glance. Not riding giant brick-shitting horses helped, Jon supposed.
The specific coinage was also a non-issue, by the time they had approached the city, Jon had sample coins from the looted goblins, orcs and an elven village. Scanning, production and delivery of perfect forgeries even with flaws and variations was a standard service in demand by all Divers. The cost came out of his own pocket—and mostly back into it too—and the metals were authentic, though not necessarily from the same universe.
A presumed Earth mage at the gate checked all money passing hands. He saw the woman close her eyes with coppers and silvers in her cupped hands and nod when she was satisfied. Fake metal or hollowed forgeries were pointless anyway. Post-industrial worlds and up had stupid amounts of buying power compared to here. Such frauds also left trails, the precise opposite reason why they bothered in the first place.
The interior of Elgelica was a majestic sight, and Jon knew exactly how he wished to experience it: slightly buzzed, high if possible, and listening to music. He got Kay to don her bone-conducting headphones, and he queued his favourite chill playlist.
His earphones were subcutaneous, but hers could pass as some quaint wooden looking jewellery. He started bobbing lightly to the beats as he took in the sights.
“Jon!” She gave a sidelong whispered reprimand “Is this entirely necessary?!”
He shrugged. “We’re in, either we’ve thrown up the right flags already, or it doesn’t matter anymore. Now we enjoy life; we get busy living.” Smiling back. “Feel the tune, and drink in the sights. This is one of the best pastimes from my world. Come experience it with me!”
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He looked about at the way the houses and buildings were intertwined with profuse greenery and trunks. And not small trees either, behemoth things the size of Red Woods rose into the sky. Wooden struts and stonework were fused to them as if they had been patiently laid as they grew, maybe they had. Terraces bloomed with bounteous spices, fruits, and vegetables. He was basically staring at the elven equivalent of high-rise architecture. With elves naturally more adept at climbing and deft footwork, living at higher elevations and building further up as the trees availed new real estate appeared to be a natural conclusion. Even now, he saw inhabitants busily traipsing about as high as six stories up. Gantries, rope bridges and wooden girders spanned every which way between buildings and jutting tree houses.
A musical chorus kicked in, and they meandered towards the tavern Virion recommended.
“Is it wise to go where he offered? I felt rather interrogated at the keep.”
“Of course you were, did you see the size of the horses we were on!? And we definitely wanna be where he can find us, no cell phone, no post, no telegram, hell not even those cans with the string tied between them. Someone had to run just to tell him we were there!”
“I will have to search some of those terms later, but I will assume you intended for us to stand out. Why then go to the trouble of obscuring names, your station, and your true power?”
“People never want the whole truth outright. I mean you can try, but you’ll likely get extreme scepticism and wholesale rejection on first blush. If you want someone to really listen to what you say, it’s best to start with honest self-serving lies and tactful evasion.”
“You realise, you used ‘honest’ to describe ‘lies’ just then?”
He ignored her and continued. “Then they get the self-satisfaction of working for the truth and feeling good about their smarts. All the while you have to say less, and they think they’ve got the better of you.”
“That is extremely twisted and conniving. Worse still, it makes sense.”
“Honestly, I’m just being contrarian for shits and giggles. All you need to remember is that people only value what they pay for. Look at your life, and you will understand.”
Kay stopped in her tracks for a moment, and Jon turned back inspecting her. She had that deeply thoughtful expression that meant she was taking what he said far too seriously.
“I will think on it Mas- I mean Jon.”
“Please don’t. I’m hoping to be sloshed before sundown, and you’re slowing the pace.”
A new upbeat Irish jig type remix began to play, and it thankfully snapped her out of contemplation.
“As you wish Jon. Let us make for the tavern and ‘live a little’ as your legends say.”