The discomfort of damp sweat compelled him to cast aside the blanket wrapped around him. The accumulated stress of the day before, fused with the sunlight piercing through the small window above the bed's headboard, had roused him.
James remained motionless, mindful of the cooler air licking his body. His gaze was fixed on the ceiling above. A solitary metal chandelier cradled two candles with their forms distorted from use.
Sounds of life stirred beyond the walls, likely emanating from the alley on the other side of his modest window. Only a slice of the vibrant blue sky was visible from his angle, yet the ample sunlight hinted that morning was already well underway.
Now, with ample time at his disposal, James began to shift through the novelty of the previous night's events. His mind was a whirlpool of thoughts and questions, each demanding his attention with equal gravity.
—-
A bell tolled, followed by a second one from a distance, and soon echoed by even more further away. As he lay on the bed, memories of another time and place stirred within him. He remembered an Orthodox church near the home where he had grown up, its insistent bell tolls rousing him every Sunday morning. Did this Avi’Gale have churches too? Was that where all the talk about blessings came from?
He wasn't exactly convinced that yesterday's talk was literal no matter what he had glimpsed inside of him. Unfortunately, Ditr would have left already. He had been level-headed with his questions last night, but still, James had so many more that he wanted answers to.
Things here differed sharply from what he knew, and his curiosity nudged him to explore with caution lest he got entangled in something dangerous. He wasn't eager to find out the truth about revenants from the inside.
For starters, venturing outside and having a look around the city seemed like a good start. He felt he had blended well enough the previous night with the patrons. With pants on, no one would give him any attention. At least he hoped.
He rose, peeling the damp sheet from his skin with a grimace of disgust. James wondered if a quick shower was an option here but his immediate priority was to rummage through the closet in front of him for suitable attire—and most definitely some shoes.
The closet offered a sparse selection. If this was the extent of Ditr's wardrobe, it was severely limited. He chose the largest pair of pants he could find, black breeches that ended just below his knees. Despite the coarse fabric, he appreciated the addition over his briefs. Securing them with a leather belt he continued on his search for footwear.
He fit a pair of socks and dark brown leather boots that were regrettably a half-size too small. His big toes lodged their protest with his first tentative steps.
Opening his door cautiously, he found the second floor deserted. With the sunlight illuminating the corridor through small windows sparsely placed, he saw several other closed doors. No further ascent was possible; the building stretched no higher than the second floor, it seemed.
Scanning the corridor he discovered that there was a second privy just across his room, its door half open, and its starkness relieved only by the expected central hole. This time, however, an open window mitigated any foul odors to James' relief.
After attending to his morning needs, James was set to embark on his search. His familiarity with the area was confined to what he could see through the small windows, which offered a view of an alley opening onto a busy main street. The surrounding buildings, constructed from dark gray stone and aged wood, loomed over the alley, casting their shadows across it.
He anticipated a better perspective once outside. For now, he headed towards the kitchen, lured by the aroma of baking bread and the realization of his hunger. He longed for a hearty breakfast.
Upon entering the kitchen, he found Merek, a strong brunette woman, and an older rabbit—seemingly more aged than Martha—gathered around a table laden with food, already engaged in light conversation.
"Good morning," he offered cautiously, acutely aware of the numerous unknowns surrounding him.
Merek glanced up from his meal, a warm smile on his face. “Right on bellhalf. Join us for breakfast, James.” He gestured to an empty chair across the table. “Let me introduce you—my wife, Ann, and Fiddle, Martha’s father, whom I believe you met last night.” His mood appeared significantly lighter than last night’s. Perhaps the recent troubles with Ditr had been weighing on him.
“Pleased to meet you,” James said, taking his seat.
“Here, help yourself,” Ann offered, passing him a plate heaped with an array of foods. Boiled eggs, slices of ham, and beans were immediately recognizable, alongside vegetables that James couldn’t quite identify.
“Thank you very much,” he responded, diving into the meal with gusto.
Perhaps his enthusiastic consumption of food dissuaded others from disturbing him as he ate. They casually lingered, sipping tea and engaging in a conversation that James found himself following.
“The watch won’t trouble you,” Fiddle commented offhandedly, likely continuing on a prior point. “There’s trouble aplenty in the city as is,” he added twitching his long white ears, and directing a meaningful look at Merek.
Merek nodded in agreement, a shadow clouding his previous smile. “Tomorrow night would be suitable, I reckon.”
“Merek… I am not sure about this,” Ann voiced with hesitation. “Ditr wouldn’t approve. It might be dangerous” She paused, casting a glance at James, which prompted her to fall silent.
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“Nothing is decided yet. We’ll discuss it further,” Merek assured, sipping his tea. He then addressed James, “You'll need to be prepared for tonight, James.”
“Yes? Of course. What do you need me to do?” James inquired.
“Be by the entrance from the third bell until the fourth, then join me by the bar till closing time. Tonight might be busier.” Merek said turning to Fiddle, “Will Martha need any help?”
“The third bell?” James asked, voicing his internal confusion.
“She will be alright.” Fiddle replied, and went on to clarify, “Currently, it’s half-a-bell or bellhalf. The second bell marks lunchtime, followed shortly by the third.”
James couldn’t help but feel dumb asking obvious questions. “Where I am from, we don’t use bells for timekeeping. Are there only four bells throughout the day?”
Fiddle opened his mouth to reply, but Ann beat him to it, “There are five bells in total. The first bell signals sunrise, followed by half-a-bell which is now, then the second bell for lunchtime. The third comes right after, with the fourth at sunset,” She said warmly.
Despite her strong features and heavy build, a female copy of Merek's, James decided that Ann was the most easygoing of the group.
“Thanks. My shift starts at the third bell, understood.” James repeated to himself. “Would there be any issue if I explored the city before then?” He asked to gauge their reactions.
“Not at all, until then the time is your own. But hold on one moment before you head out,” Merek pulled out a small pouch which he handed to him. “Inside are 20 Verithian coppers, I took out the cost of food and lodging. It is your pay for tonight’s work—in advance. I’ve learned a bit about your unique situation from Ditr.”
“Appreciate it,” James responded, taking the pouch. The gesture might be a sign of trust, or perhaps the sum was so minor it held little importance. Either way, he would discover the truth as he navigated the city streets and had a talk with a few locals.
—-
James straightened his black T-shirt over his black breeches. He would have borrowed a spare from Ditr, but they were uncomfortably tight across his chest.
A new top was high on his to-buy list if he could afford it. However, a sharp knife was the priority, right at the top of the list—since food was no longer a concern, thanks to Ann promising to feed him before his shift started. Ensuring his safety among so many armed individuals was his next concern.
Stepping outside, he was immediately enveloped by the magical and potentially perilous new world. If he had ever doubted his new reality, the sight outside grounded him once more. He was not on Earth any longer.
Beyond the Twin Claw's Tavern, positioned at an intersection bustling with pedestrian traffic, he saw the different inhabitants of this city. Despite the sunshine, a light breeze caressed him, its chill a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the sun.
He inhaled deeply without a second thought.
“ACHOOOOOOO!” James's sneeze erupted violently, leaving his chest burning and eyes watering.
What the hell? How can I be in a place so magical and still have allergies? he wondered in irritation.
"Spring’s the worst, no matter where you are," he muttered to himself, feeling the immediate itch in his ears, the roof of his mouth, and his eyes. All of which he resisted the urge to scratch.
Next to the tavern, set up on the building’s stony wall a fountain adorned with a lion's head spewed water into a small bowl, which then overflowed into a drainage system. Without hesitation, James washed his face and drank deep gulps of cold water, hoping to soothe his symptoms.
Under his boots, the streets were paved with cobblestones of white and black, smoothed over by the foot traffic over time. The Twin Claw’s Tavern’s location was well thought out. The surrounding streets were lined with diverse shops, each building two stories high—shops on the ground floor with living quarters above, a practical arrangement, James noted.
Choosing a direction at random, he merged with the crowd. It was a rich tapestry of races, many of which he'd encountered the night before. Humans predominated, interspersed with dwarves and the occasional giant towering over everyone, called Ombraks, with their pig-like snouts and tusks, most clad in animal hides and armed with longswords or axes. They were fierce and terrifying warriors in James' eyes.
Suddenly, he found himself nearly face-to-face with an unfamiliar being. Its pig-like snout bore a resemblance to the Ombrak giants, yet instead of tusks, a wide toothy mouth decorated its lips. Not to be outdone in repulsiveness it was entirely hairless as well. It passed next to him without so much as a glance his way, oblivious to James' wide stare of surprise.
A smaller version of the big guys perhaps?
He resolved to inquire about each race back at the Tavern. Working in security meant he had to familiarize himself with the various patrons—including knowing a bit about the diverse races that frequented the place. Just a few more questions on the already big pile.
James moved at a leisurely pace, his attention easily diverted by the myriad sights around him. He split his focus between the people passing by, whom he tried to observe with discreet curiosity, and the captivating displays in the shop windows. It didn't take long for him to notice that each neighborhood had its theme, with shops of similar trades often clustered together on the same street.
An inviting alley branched off from the main thoroughfare, and James veered in to explore it. The shop windows along this narrower path were a vibrant showcase of yarns, fabrics, and ready-made garments of every description. The array of colorful outerwear, leather goods, footwear, fabric bags, and satchels seemed endless, interrupted only by a small eatery offering quick meals to the bustling clientele. To James, this place had all the hallmarks of a bazaar, with a mix of new and second-hand items for sale.
Completing a loop around the block, he found himself back on the main street, cautious not to stray too far and risk getting lost. At the corner of the building, an iron sign caught his eye:
Terling Highstreet
That was where he was. He recorded the exotic yet oddly recognizable letters into his memory.
Alright, not getting lost today.
With renewed confidence, careful not to breathe in deeply and unleash another sneezing inferno, it was time for him to veer deeper into the city in search of a respectable sharp knife.
—
Alas, it was time to settle for a poorly made, secondhand knife, that he had haggled down to 20 Verithian coppers. All the coins he could afford.
The shopkeeper extended her hand swiftly, and James, grudgingly, followed up, solidifying their agreement. With a pained expression, he flipped his small pouch, allowing the copper coins to spill out into his palm before sliding them across.
He secured the knife in a leather knot on his belt, with the blade hanging loosely on his side.
Merely two hours into his exploration of the city, his pockets were empty and his toes ached from the contact with the boots. In the background, bells chimed once again, marking lunchtime. "The second bell," he mused. Despite all his wandering, he still hadn't encountered a single church.