The woods ended about a mile or so from the town. I suspected that they had cleared it long ago: it was too even, at least as far as I could see, to be natural, but there weren’t a bunch of stumps or anything. It was almost like the town was in the middle of a big meadow. But who knew what they could do with magic?

It didn’t take long to walk to the gate. The gravel road wasn’t anything like as precise as you might see on Earth, but someone obviously maintained it. It would let carts like the one I had seen move and not get bogged down in mud when it was wet outside. My shoes did okay on the gravel, but it still wasn’t fun to walk on, so I walked alongside it. The ground was dry and even. I could have pretended I was hiking on Earth except for the walled town I was approaching.

As I got closer, I could see there was a man standing next to the gate watching me approach. He was wearing what looked like a chainmail shirt of some kind and a metal helmet, and he had a spear leaning against the gate next to him. Attached to the wall was a large bell, presumably so he could call for help if something threatened him. I had no intention of getting my bell rung.

“Hello,” I said, stopping well back and keeping my hands visible. I didn’t want to make him suspicious. Town guards were like cops who were actively encouraged to beat people who pissed them off in a lot of RPG. I was prepared to kiss his somewhat scruffy butt to stay out of the dungeon. If they had a dungeon. Who knew?

“Hello,” he said, giving me the once-over. “You all alone?” He sounded a little confused by this idea. He was speaking the same language I was, which I still knew wasn’t English but which I understood as if it were.

“Yes,” I replied. “I’m a little lost, to be honest. What town is this?”

“It’s Parisi,” he said, looking even more confused. “How did you get through the forest by yourself without even a sword? And how could you not know where you were going?”

Hmm. Apparently the woods were dangerous. And he had me there. People didn’t just wander through dangerous forests for fun. At least, not noobs like me, apparently.

“I got lost,” I said. “I don’t know for sure what happened. All I know is that I woke up in the woods over there and walked to the town to get help.”

“Are you all right?” he asked. At least he didn’t seem concerned that I was a spy or a demon in disguise or anything. He still just sounded a little confused, not actively suspicious.

“I’m okay. And whatever happened, I didn’t get robbed. I have a little money in my pocket. Is there an inn or something where I could get something to eat?” I took out the lone silver coin I’d stuffed in my pocket and showed it to him. Hopefully, he wouldn’t demand it as a bribe. I figured if he did at least I was only out the one coin. And I didn’t want to look like a vagrant.

“Yes,” he said. “Three inns in Parisi, plenty of room. It’s where we have the western assizes as well as the county Song Fair.” He sounded a little proud of this part. I had no idea what an ‘assize’ was but ‘Song Fair’ sounded promising. And he didn’t ask for a bribe, so that was encouraging.

“Sounds like a very nice little town,” I said politely.

“Little?” he said with surprise. “Nearly four hundred people live here! It may not be the County Seat, but this isn’t just some crossroads village, you know.”

“My apologies,” I said quickly. “No offense meant.”

“Where are you from, the capital or something?” he asked. “Chagny may be the County Seat but it’s not that much bigger than Parisi.” He sounded faintly offended now, despite my apology.

“Long way away,” I said. “I travel a lot. See a lot of different places. I probably just didn’t realize how big your town was, what with being lost and all. If they have the Song Fair here it must be a good town.”

This seemed to calm him down. “It is. And all the inns are clean. We don’t put up with trouble.”

“Just what I’m looking for,” I said with a smile. “Last thing I want is any trouble. Just dinner and a bed and to try to figure out how I ended up here.”

“We have a doctor here,” he said with some pride. “A real doctor, from the Academy. Maybe you hit your head or something and he could help you out. If you follow the main street through the town, you’ll come to a square. All the shops and the inns and the town hall are on the square. The doctor has an office in the town hall.”

I noticed that about fifty feet from the gate, the gravel road became cobblestones. At least, they were flat rocks that fit together neatly. Was that cobblestones? Or did that mean something specific? Oh, well. Not important right now.

“That’s very helpful, thank you,” I said gratefully. “I can just go in, then?”

“Sure,” he said, confused again. “Why wouldn’t you?”

“Some places have paperwork,” I said. “Want you to give your name or something.”

He laughed. “I don’t think one man who doesn’t even have any real weapons is going to cause any trouble. What are you, a Song Mage in disguise?”

I tried not to look too freaked out by this question. I don’t know if I succeeded, because it freaked me out, a lot. What, are Song Mages not allowed? Do I need some kind of magic license? Are they going to burn me at the stake if they find out?

“Why, would that be a problem?” I said. I tried to act casual, but I probably sucked at it. I was an Engineering major, not a Drama major, dammit!

“Well, no,” he laughed. “Though I’d guess you probably weren’t a very good one, dressed like that and without even a horse to your name.”

“That’s me.” I laughed as well, not very convincingly. “Worst Song Mage in the world. You got me.”

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This made him laugh harder. “You’re a funny fellow,” he said. “And if you are a Song Mage, that’s a good disguise.”

“Thanks,” I said, pretending to go along with the gag. “I don’t like to brag, try to keep a low profile. You know. Keeps the groupies off.”

“Groupies?” he said, still chuckling. “What’s that?”

“Oh, nothing,” I replied. “Just being funny. It’s my hobby.”

“Well, go on in, Mister Song Mage In Disguise,” he said. “Please don’t destroy our town because I didn’t kiss your backside.”

“It’s a deal,” I said cheerfully. “And the name’s Chris.”

“I’m John, though I guess you should call me ‘Guardsman’ while I’m wearing this.” He rapped his knuckles on his chainmail shirt.

“Thank you, Guardsman John,” I said with a smile. “I appreciate the help and I promise not to wipe out your town with my awesome powers.”

“Thank you kindly,” he said, still chuckling. “Run along now. I see a caravan coming out of the woods and I’ll have to make sure they aren’t smuggling dragons or anything.”

I turned to look behind me and sure enough, some wagons were emerging from the forest. I didn’t ask if he was serious about the dragons. That seemed like it could go wrong in several different ways. With a last wave of thanks, I walked down the stone street and into the town of Parisi.

From what I could see, the place looked like your basic Generic Fantasy Town, although it was surprisingly clean. Along the stone street were various small houses and other buildings, with decent separation. No crazy crammed-together buildings. As I passed through the gate, I’d noticed that there was also a good separation between the wall and the nearest buildings. No jumping off rooftops to get outside the town without being seen. There was a small building just inside the gate which I assumed was some kind of guardhouse. The door was shut but it just looked sort of official. Once past that, it was houses and whatnot, with the occasional tree. There were holes covered with metal grates every so often on the sides of the street, so they must have some kind of drainage system, too.

It was only a few minutes walk to the promised town square. To one side was a big stone building - most of the houses had been painted wood - with a sign over the door that said “Town Hall” in whatever language I was reading. It was quite large. In front of it were some stone benches that faced the square. Some ways around the square were a butcher shop, a small bakery and a general store, all with signs identifying them. Interspersed with them were a few other un-labeled buildings and the inns.

The inns all looked fairly similar, though one was notably larger and had a somewhat fancier style. I walked over to the bigger of the other two on the theory that it was the “middle” inn, hopefully not too pricey but not too cheap, either. It had a sign that said “The Merchant’s Rest.” The biggest one, which was closest to the town hall, said “The Duke’s Arms,” and the smallest was called “Parisi Pub.” All of them had a hanging sign that looked like a tankard as well as the written sign.

I don’t know what the drinking age is here, I thought to myself, But I hope they don’t ask for ID since I might be underage and also I have no ID. I walked through the door like I knew what I was doing. It was harder than you’d think. Not only was I in a new and alien world, I’d never been in a bar before even in my own world.

The ‘Generic Fantasy Town’ theme carried along to a ‘Generic Fantasy Tavern” theme inside the Merchant’s Rest. There was a large fireplace, currently without a fire. (It was what I’d consider a fairly warm summer day, did I mention that?) Some windows, with real if not super-transparent glass, let in the sunlight and it was easy to see. Several tables were spread around a large common room, with a bar along one wall and a small stage on the other side. One table had two men in nondescript clothes eating a late lunch or an early dinner, but otherwise the place was empty aside from the bartender, who was behind the bar polishing tankards. At least I think they were tankards. I’m not much of a drinker.

“Afternoon,” he said pleasantly. “Get you a drink?”

I walked up and sat at the bar, trying not to look nervous. “Hi there,” I said. “A drink. Sure. Nothing too strong, I’ve been walking a long time and I’m tired.” I wasn’t really but I didn’t want anything that would make me drunk.

He looked at me dubiously. Apparently I didn’t look all that travel-weary. “Small beer?”

“Sure,” I said. That sounded harmless. Mostly. “And something to eat?”

“Stew on now,” he said. “Bread fresh this morning. If you want something else, I’ll have to get the cook to put it on. She won’t have dinner ready for another hour or so.”

“Sounds great,” I said. “Stew and bread it is.”

He smiled. “Five iron for the beer. A copper for the stew.”

I reached in my pocket and worked out two coppers. I’d put ten or so of both the iron and the copper, as well as a silver, in my pocket before stowing the rest at the bottom of my belt pouch. The bartender smiled a little wider when I slid them onto the bar without commenting on the price.

“Five iron back,” he said. “Hang on a second.” He turned and opened a metal box attached to the bar shelf behind him. Dropping the coppers in, he pawed around for change.

Aha, I thought. Ten iron to the copper. So far, so good.

“Keep it,” I said hastily. “Maybe you can tell me a little about the town if you’re not busy. Never been here before.”

This got me the broadest smile yet. “Let me get your stew first,” he said. He walked to the end of the bar and to a door which led back into what must be the kitchen. Sticking his head through, he said, “Meg! Stew and bread,” in a not-quite-shout. Then he walked back and drew me a tankard of ‘small beer,’ whatever that was, from a keg behind the bar. Setting it in front of me, he asked, “What do you want to know?”

I looked at the beer casually. At least I hoped it was casual. I didn’t want to insult him. It looked clean and the beer smelled like… beer. (I don’t drink but I wasn’t raised in a convent. I know what beer smells like.) It didn’t smell all that strong, so I raised it to my lips and took a sip.

Not awful, I thought. It was warm, and didn’t really taste like much of anything other than a watered-down version of what beer smells like. Not very pleasant, but not disgusting. I took a larger drink and tried to look happy. “Thanks. And just… the basics, I guess. Anything I should know to stay out of trouble? Anybody might need some help? I have a little money but I’ll probably need some work.”

“Don’t start any trouble, won’t be any trouble,” said the bartender. “Mayor Raoul doesn’t put up with nonsense. Cause any problems and he’ll throw you in a cell until the assizes unless you can pay the fine.”

There’s that word again, I thought. I have no idea what it is. But it must have something to do with laws or courts or something.

“That sounds reasonable enough,” I said, taking another small drink of the beer. At that point a woman walked out of the kitchen carrying a tray with my stew and bread.

Well, I call her a woman, but she was more like a girl. A cute girl. She was maybe a year or two younger than me, with big blue eyes, blonde hair in a braid down her back, and a dress which while not fancy was clean, neat, and showed off a very interesting figure. She smiled at me, showing even white teeth and two adorable dimples.

“Hi there,” I said, once again trying not to sound nervous, although at least “nervous about a cute girl smiling at me” was a very familiar kind of nervous as opposed to “nervous I’ll say the wrong thing and a dude will beat me with a spear” nervous.

“Hello,” she said, “Here’s your food.” She put a bowl with a spoon in it on the bar in front of me, then set a plate with a healthy piece of bread next to it. The stew smelled very good and I realized with surprise that I was quite hungry. My stomach gurgled and she let out a small giggle. It was also adorable.

“Thanks,” I said, but before I could say anything more, the bartender said, “Go and help Miranda with dinner, Meg.” She looked at him with a little surprise and then walked back to the kitchen without saying anything else.

Turning to me, the bartender said, “Remember what I said about not starting trouble?”

Oh boy, I thought. I see where this is going.