South Jaga City, Job Hall – Year 1344, Month 1, Day 8. Spring

Olea Munroe

The west gate of South Jaga was more a yawning maw of stone. The wall itself was nearly thirty feet in height, all smooth blue-gray stone. There was an inner portcullis suspended above, held in place by unseen mechanisms, or magic. It was probably mundane in nature as you couldn’t count on everyone to be magically inclined during an emergency.

The tunnel leading through the wall to the outer portcullis was long and lit with those blue-white orbs of mage light. Several wagons were wheeling their way inside on the left while there were only a few farmhands walking along the right side to exit the city, probably returning to the fields.

“You there,” said a gruff male voice from the right, “Name and business, if you please.”

At this point Alex took the lead, I didn’t even know our business. I’d be happy to just stare at the wall and people watch while he did the talky-talky.

The last wagon coming through the gate was being pulled by a large, blue ox. Which if you know many folk tales you could guess that my brain jumped straight to a scene from Paul Bunyan. Atop the wagon rode an old woman who was holding the reins while a small boy in blue leather coveralls listened with serious intent. Hats off to anyone who could get a kid to listen that well on a road trip.

The wagons were loaded with large and small kegs of liquid, probably the wine from the last harvest, as I could detect a slight fruitiness in the air.

“We are clear to leave.” Came a familiar voice from behind me.

It was just Alex.

“Ah. Yes.” I replied smartly.

It seemed Alex was a little more casual when not on guild premises. It made me wonder if he would further relax from being super stuffy once we made our way from the city proper. I had met people who refused to relax when they thought people who mattered were nearby and possibly judging them for some unknown lapse in etiquette.

We made our way under the wall to the outer portcullis. The arched tunnel had small windows on each side along with a wicket gate, or man-door. I followed Alex out into the sunlight ahead.

We arrived safely on the other side of the darkened maw. I was being a bit dramatic; I know. It was just my first time seeing the gates even though I’d been in the city for several days already. I had no reason to leave town yet, there were rats to vanquish! I also liked being a tourist.

I turned about while Alex walked ahead down the path to a small pergola type of structure where people were tying off animals and assembling cargo for the wagons and various carts. Yep, big wall. The guards on either side were checking papers and looking menacing. I found them to be reminiscent of mall cops, they do the job but won’t really get violent unless something serious occurs. Wearing armor out here in the heat for hours or worse the frozen wind of winter, I’d bet they received adequate compensation for the work.

That thought got my mind to wondering what normal monetary wages were in the wider world, I’d been eating street vendor food and buying new to me clothes every day or so. Was I flaunting unknown wealth? That may be why the seamstresses were so keen to get me to agree to marrying up. Thoughts for another day.

Above me I could see several more guards patrolling the upper walls, or rather I saw shadows of the patrols walking as the crenelation blocked my poorly angled view. Did they worry about assassins around here, or was it just lookout for bandits, thieves, and monsters? More to discover. Who could say what the bigger threat was when a twelve-year-old can toss magic missiles at people.

The sound of creaking wheels, stomping boots, grunting animals, and the brisk wind whistling through the gate provided a comfortable sort of backdrop to the cool day. The sun approaching its zenith above providing the area with a gentle warmth, it was quite a wonderful spring day. I was told winter ended only a week ago, but I had yet to experience the freezing rains and sudden windy thunderstorms so prevalent back home in West Virginia through the early spring months. Here’s to hoping this place is more temperate than back home.

I figured I had had enough people watching after the most recent person to walk by was a swarthy, not unattractive, but over friendly for a first encounter farmhand proposed we hitch our wagons together. Nope, time to find my chaperone. I was not interested in marriage, nope, not yet. Maybe after I had conquered the world or founded my own kingdom of lama-loving sycophants who supported my every decision. Meh, I’d settle for a small county somewhere. Better yet, I could be a sea captain charting the ocean… oceans? I had no idea what the geography was like from the vision I had seen outside of this continent. Future me fun times.

Making my way over to Alex as he discussed the weather or stock options with a large group of people near a line of carts and wagons, I let my mind wander back to the before. Life had been good there toward the end. I still wasn’t sure if I had died there in that chair, was my body discovered by the Murphys? I hoped not, they were kind people if not a bit eccentric. The thought of them coming home together or if it was Sharon returning with the kids from school or shopping or whatever they were doing. That hurt to think about. I would just have to hope for one of those portal options where the room was left a mess or miraculously unharmed as extradimensional forces ripped me from Earth.

“By the way…” I muttered.

‘I have no idea as to the how of your transposition, Olea. I was only here to join you after your trip.’

“No insider information, I guess that tracks with some things.” I mused a bit more on the mysteries of life and gods and solar storms in a black hole. Ok, that last was not a thought I would entertain, but I can pretend!

I stepped up behind the wonderfully talkative Alex as he was losing steam, the man he was speaking with was all nods and smiles. He was typical of what we could term the middle-aged working class. Well built muscles from years of work, a deep tan from constant travel, and a well-defined belly bulge that stuck out just a little too far. Dadbod. He had brown hair with deep brown eyes and probably stood near the six-foot line. His clothes were the rough spun type commonly worn by those in trades that required rough use. A few light silver scars could be seen under his collar, I’m betting this man had quite a few stories for the campfire. I decided then that I liked the guy, or at least that I could grow to like him. His demeanor screamed crazy uncle.

“As I was saying, young master. We will be following the lake along the southern border as we head west, a few stops along the way in some of the smaller villages not frequented by the barges. After we cross the river, we will head for North Jaga and make our way from there to the coast.” He paused for breath before continuing, “The whole trip takes nearly two months, barring no major delays on the road.”

“And you say we can join you for the trip until you reach Melnor, correct?” stated Alex, probably more to my benefit than the man’s.

“Right, sir.” He said nodding.

“And the price?” asked Alex. I was curious as well, I had not thought of it before, but I was not sure how the economy worked, how travelers travelled, what was expected of us lowly adventurers. None of it really. And now that I thought about it, this may have been the entire reason Doogan sent me out here. He wanted me to see a little bit about the world and how it operated insofar as the local establishments were concerned.

“Five small silvers for each of you.”

“Five, each?” asked Alex as if he had misheard.

“That’s the price for the travel, did you plan to eat with us or have you some trail rations between you and the lady there?” he said.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Alex looked at me in my dusty clothes, devoid of a money pouch. I honestly had not thought to adorn my actual gear. Granted my gear consisted of a knife, rough spun clothing, and a pair of soft leather shoes. I had at least brought my own shoes. I should have traded out of the communal clothing I had thrown on as I hurried about.

“I did not think to ask, but Olea, where are your things?” Alex asked, looking down at me as I searched for an actual pocket. I had none.

The sound of wings came from skyward as a large black raven of annoyance cawed in mockery at my preparation. How did I know he was mocking me; I did not know. It just felt like a laugh in my mind. Stupid bird, stupid Alex… Or stupid me and my stupid forgetfulness. I shall endeavor to do better next time. For now.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” said a confused Alex.

Our audience began to laugh as I stared up at him making full contact with his eyes, they were a great shade of green. In them I saw his confusion turning to sympathy as I gave him my best puppy dog eyes. My own green eyes reflected in his; I’d need a mirror again soon. I know they were blue yesterday. His sympathy and empathy seemed to slowly drain away as the chuckling continued and he became wise to the ploy.

“I will not be manipulated, demon.” Said Alex sternly, “Though I should tell you that Master Doogan gave me the payment he had intended for you before I left his company this morning. I am not paying for your expenses.”

As he finished speaking, he unstrapped a bag from his belt and, after removing the five shiny coins, handed it to me. I had completely forgotten to collect my money for the job yesterday. I had thought my wisdom and intelligence scores would affect my mind somewhat and make things easier to remember.

‘Your augmented wisdom will only show heightened results as time passes and you become more set in proper habits. Bear in mind that you still have the wisdom that is, in this world, equivalent to a child.’

“Harsh.”

“On the contrary, I believe it is most fair.” Came the answer from Alex as he handed my shiny silvers away with five of his own. The man pocketed them with a shift of his hand, I heard them tinkle into a coin bag at his hip even though I’d not seen the bag move. The power of a commiserate merchant, indeed.

“You are all paid up then. I’ll be leaving you to it for now, we can talk more later if you like.” With that our new friend headed off toward the rest of his caravan. It seemed like a caravan, or a train. Wagon trains were a thing I think, yep, pretty sure they were.

“So, what were you planning to say?” asked Alex.

“About?” I replied hesitantly.

“What excuse were you going to use for having put in no effort when it came to preparing for this trip?” he elaborated.

I wasn’t sure what he was told but I know no one said I’d be leaving town until an hour ago. I would love to blame a certain stuffy goat-like bear of a man, alas it seems that I should have asked for more information. Maybe I would have been better served had I realized it sooner, mayhap I could have gathered my few things before we left the hall. Then again, I really had nothing to my name aside from the gifted knife, a few coins, and the clothes that had not yet been raked from my back by random rats and treacherous cats.

“I don’t have one.” I would be honest.

“No excuses, really?” he lifted a skeptical brow at me.

“What excuses could I use? At best I could have gotten my knife before leaving the hall, maybe my one spare shirt and pants. That’s all I’ve got though. Even had I remembered I’d probably just have brought my knife with me even though it’s only good for rats.”

I had checked in at the armor smith for confirmation. It seemed that all the intent and focused use by the Baker with his knife had imbued within it a wild enchantment. The knife was guaranteed to score a critical hit when used on rodents of the larger variety. It had several other rat-oriented damage bonuses but if I were to use it on any other creature the damage would be cut by more than eighty percent. It was weird to think about, but I was assured that these things were common with implements that were constantly used for simple but focused tasks. Many people would seek higher quality goods to keep in the family for the purpose of attempting to acquire a wild boon of this nature though it rarely garnered the desired buff.

I was then told a story of a chef in the capital that had used his knife and only his knife for every single task in the kitchen hoping for a great boon to aid in his craft. After almost three years he had discovered that the knife had taken an enchantment. He was soon saddened to discover the knife refused to cut anything but potatoes. It was nice in the fact that you could not cut yourself while peeling but I would imagine the cook had bigger expectations.

“When you say you have nothing, you mean nothing useful for the trip, right?”

“Yes. That is what I meant, what did you expect it to mean?”

“I was concerned for a moment. That is all.” Was the reply.

“Concerned for little old me? Really?” I couldn’t help it.

“Barely. Though your wording had me for a moment believe that you were listing the extent of your worldly possessions.” He said before making to leave.

“Oh, yes. That is also what I meant.” I said to his turning form. “I have a knife and some clothes and my bag of coins from the jobs I did yesterday.” As I finished speaking, I looked down at my little bag. I think it was made of flax, is flax a thing? I have no idea really.

The coins all had the same nickel minted look, with the center occupied by either a squarish center or the larger star of silver or copper. On the nickel surface was a strange diagram or pattern of many small orbs circling in presumed orbits around the central core. Interesting detail. I wondered briefly what the meaning could be as they were each and every one slightly different than the other before I focused on the important thing, counting my loot.

I had barely finished counting out my haul of one large silver, three small silvers, and six seven shiny coppers when I saw a pair of boots step up in front of me. Naturally I looked up as I stowed the small bag of coins.

It was Alex.

“Weren’t you leaving?” I asked.

I noticed his feet shuffle a little as he seemed to be thinking, it’s difficult to discern people’s moods when you don’t pay attention to them. He didn’t quite rank yet for people I would count as worth the brain space. I’m not being mean, I just know I forget enough in life without adding the names, behaviors, likes, and dislikes of six-hundred strangers to the list.

“Are you ok?”

“Okay, I think I am. Yes.” I was starting to get weird sympathy vibes. Argh. Feelings.

“I don’t know if I should be asking this, but I must. Why do you have so little? Are you, or were you an orphan?” He kept looking at me with that weird, I found an injured puppy look.

“Oh, yeah. Orphan. I was for a while yes.” I said, quickly adding, “Though that’s not why I don’t have anything worthy of note.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I’m new to town, the continent really.” I continued, “Mana storms a little while ago, sent me here. I’m stuck here now, didn’t quite get a chance to pack my things.”

“Oh.” His look of sympathy went up a few notches. As if it had become even more sad as I filled in that small gap.

I was told mana storms frequently invoked strange magics and it was not uncommon to have people who were struck in the storm to be altered or transported elsewhere. The storms themselves were limited to only occurring once or twice a year at most. There were even times when the storms would be absent for a year or more. They were normally easy to predict as a purple haze would spread across the horizon days in advance allowing the people to prepare. The beast-folk of the world were actually just normal folks who were caught in a storm and somehow altered to include aspects of animal they were near. In my case it was a bit more extreme. Doogan had told me to mention the mana storms as an out for difficult questions as people would understand it and their own minds would produce a story to fit the line of questioning.

“No big deal.” I said mildly. It really was not a big deal, other than the thoughts of my method of travel I had no problems being popped from earth and delivered here. Isekai is popular for a reason, many people would love a fresh start in life.

“That could explain why you are so low in level. I’d heard some people could be reduced to level one in the rarer cases of teleportation in a storm, but I had never thought to see such a sad case myself.” His explanation of the story in his head made me feel like I should be sad for myself.

“It’s fine, I’m alive and well. Now I am here and still well.” I said attempting to change the topic. “What are we doing anyway?”

I knew we were making some sort of trip and we would be stopping in a place called Melnor before we headed back. I also could kind of extrapolate that the Jaga Lake was not small. The town we were headed for was supposed to be nearly eighty miles west. Sure, that’s two hours at a sedate highway speed drive back home but I was thinking that these loaded wagons would move a bit more slowly down the hard packed road. It would probably take two days more if the trip was somehow delayed on the road.

“I was told you needed a trip to see the sights and learn some of the local geography, it makes more sense now that I know you aren’t from Talindrone. That’s the name we have for this continent by the way.” He took another breath, “Really though, starting at level one again must be rough. I would hate to lose my twenty levels merely because I had the misfortune of being caught in a mana storm.” He visibly shuddered as he finished speaking.

It made sense why he had such sympathy for me now, and out of nowhere with it. If he thought I had lost a life worth of adventuring experience and all that invested time, several years’ worth of levels and skills. Yeah, that would be a drag.

“I think we should make with the line there, Alex. I think our ride is getting ready to leave.” I said pointing behind the ever-talkative mister Ambridge.

“What?” he said following my gaze behind him. He was clever.

As he finished his turn he started. The wagon train was just beginning to line up on the road. Animals harnessed, ropes creaking as they were pulled taut, tarps tied down, really all manner of cart like business had happened while we were talking about nothing but me. Some part of me was happy to have someone so focused on me and somewhat sympathetic but I also had a small nagging unease creep in as I remembered that most of what he felt sympathy for was a lie. The mana storm was true, but the details and the attached baggage were so much heavier than a planetary relocation. Emotions suck sometimes.

During my rumination of mere seconds, I failed to follow directly behind Alex as he headed off, intent on us not being left behind. It was going to be swell travelling for days with these strangers, and the somewhat not-a-stranger, Alex.

And so, I followed the leader toward the train of carts, wagons, and people. West-bound for the next town.