“Greetings stranger!” The pudgy man called in a jovial voice. “You look like you’ve run into a bit of a rough patch.” He was nearly round but his movements were quick and his blue eyes twinkled with kindness and humor. 

“Evening, and you're right” I replied “I’m afraid I’m a bit lost. Do you know which way the nearest town is?” I asked trying to be polite. I still wasn’t sure how to approach this man. I had no idea what was going on. Things were more screwed up than I initially imagined and I needed information if I was going to puzzel anything out. 

The stranger smiled, and nodded sagely “S’bout three leagues west ‘long the road, Headin’ there myself, but this damn mule’s too slow, and now we ain't gonna make it till tomorrow. I don’t fancy tryin’ the road at night. There’s wolves in these woods ya know?” His accent was unrecognizable to me but held a hint of a southern-drawl.

I nearly snorted at that.

Ya don’t say? I thought darkly.

“Well you're welcome to camp with me tonight, You can even have the other fish if you let me ride in your cart tomorrow.”

The man didn’t even think it over for a second. He stretched out his pudgy hand and we shook.“Ya got yourself a deal! Name’s Willard by the way. I’m a peddler headed to Shadesgrove to pick up some goods.”

Blip

I’d never heard of a Shadesgrove but I hesitated to ask something like ‘What country is that in?’. I had a feeling I wouldn’t get an intelligible answer anyway. “Is that the next town?, I’m afraid I’m new to these parts.”

He chuckled as he took the bigger fish off the fire. “I can tell. You’ve the look of a wildman, and no, the next towns a small one called Valor’s Crossing, Shadesgrove’s another week's travel to the east, but this road runs all the way there,so it’s not too bad a journey. By the way what’s your name stranger?”

I froze. I’d expected the question but I still hadn’t prepared an answer. “Uhhhhhhh…. John” I replied lamely. 

Willard raised a skeptical eye before shrugging his shoulders. “It’s alright, there’s plenty o’people who’d rather not give out their name.”

We ate while Willard chatted on about his mule and his business. He’d sold his goods in a town in the east called Wild’s Reach and was heading to Shadesgrove to buy more goods, before heading south. 

“Isn’t it dangerous traveling on the road with no escort? Aren't you worried about getting robbed?” I asked, curious. 

He just laughed heartily. “What good’s it do to rob a peddler with an empty wagon? I suppose you could take old Milly but she wouldn’t sell for a wood ram, and who’d risk the noose for horse thievin’ for the likes of her?”

I raised an eyebrow  “But if you’ve sold your goods  and are headed somewhere to buy, doesn’t that mean you're carrying a bunch of money? Seems like the best time to rob someone.” 

Williard paused for a moment then looked at me askance. “You aint a bandit are ya?”

I burst out laughing, God it felt good to laugh, and although my abs protested it seemed like It been a year since I’d been light hearted rather than two days.  “I’d be a pretty poor bandit if I couldn’t even steal myself a shirt.”

Willard continued to look at me for a few seconds, then joined in the laughter. “You do look a mess, and you seem a decent sort, offern’ me a fish, when you aint even got a pair a shoes.”

The atmosphere relaxed again and I took the time to gather more firewood. I piled it up pretty high, as I didn’t want a repeat of last night. Then I settled down for bed. 

We set off the next morning, and after a full night's rest my abs were almost completely healed, although the soreness of the torn muscles persisted, and my back was still tender. This really was surreal. A wound like that should've landed me in the hospital for two weeks at least. Christ, I shouldn’t even have been able to stand up afterwards, but I’d been able to walk a few miles hours after it happened with only minor pain. Hopefully when we reached town I’d be able to find some answers, or at least be able to figure out where I was. I was beginning to suspect we weren't in Kansas anymore. 

It was nearly noon when the inevitable happened. A scraggly looking man, with a long knife walked out in front of the wagon, while a taller and broader man with a big cudgel approached from the side.

“Give us your coin, and you can be on your way.” the smaller one said in a reedy voice. 

I looked over at Willard and raised an eyebrow with the best ‘I told you so’ expression I could muster. He didn’t even blink at my look, and a look of terror suddenly materialized on his face. 

“P-P-Please sir, don’t be violent now, I’m just a humble puddler, just take the coin and be lemme go.”

The tone of his voice was so different than before. I was confused for a moment before I realized it was an act. He reached for his belt, and took off the coin purse he had hanging there before tossing it weakly into the road. 

The skinny man went for the purse as the larger brute covered us with his cudgel. I just watched puzzled trying to figure out Willard’s game. The thief took the coin purse then opened up his prize. 

“Aint nothin’ in here but copper, and a couple bits o silver. This all you got fatty?” He asked angrily.

“I’m just a p-poor peddler sir, I managed to sell a’bit in the last town, but my wagon axle broke, after gettin it fixed that’s all I got.” He looked truly pitiful, I had to admit his acting skills were grade-A. 

The bandit looked skeptical. “Search ‘em hoss” The large man lumbered over and pulled Willard out of the wagon. I went along without prodding. The large man patted us down, He found my knife, but merely sneered at it and gave it back. Willard wasn’t carrying anything else, so the brute searched the cart but found nothing. 

“Notin’ boss” The large man replied thickly. The skinny man sneered, but waved us back into the cart. 

“Get outta here then, you lot are worse off than we are.”  He said as they ran back off the road. Willard and I climbed back into the cart, and with a tap of Willards stick, Milly started to plod west again. 

We were a mile or so down the road when I asked the question. “So where's the rest of your coin?” 

Willard looked at me for a moment then answered with a grin. “One a’the boards in back is hollow. I aint tellin ya which one though.”

I just laughed. “I figured you were lying last night when you asked who would rob a merchant with an empty wagon. I have to admit though your acting skills are pretty good.”

He grinned without an ounce of shame. “The trade business is actin’. Even honest dealin’ requires a bit a posturnin’ on both sides What gave me away?”

“You weren't upset enough when they robbed you.” I replied honestly. “You looked scared, but you didn’t look devastated. A trader's money is his life, with no money and no cargo your back to nothing. Those two were idiots but a smarter thief might have been able to sniff you out. Although, I suppose he’d have had a hell of a time finding the coin, if it really is in a hollow board.”

Willard snorted. “Those half-wit whoresons, They’re a ram’a dozen, I’ve been robbed three times since I left. The trick is  keepin’ just enough coin in the pouch to be believable. Then they won't go lookin’ too hard.”

I just nodded at his words and leaned back against the wooden slats in the cart. It had been a long couple of days, and I was still injured. I closed my eyes while listening to the birds, the rattle of the cart,  along with Willard's constant chatter. It was honestly a rather pleasant feeling. It was the first time I’d felt at ease in three days. It was nice to just relax and let the world slowly roll by. 

We reached Valor’s Crossing just before evening. As I’d suspected when I’d run into Willard it looked nothing like a modern city. Village would be a better term, or even hamet. The buildings were all rough wood dwellings and only a couple were two stories, the rest all appeared to be functional single room affairs. I could smell wood smoke and cooking meat as we approached. 

I was baffled. It really looked like some quaint European town had it been 400 years earlier. The facts kept adding up, but I honestly had no idea what the answer to all this strangeness was. I hopped off the back of the wagon and stretched. The wagon wasn’t terribly comfortable and the day’s log ride had stiffened up my joints. However, I was still in a good mood. I’d survived in the woods for two days on my own. It was a pretty good accomplishment for someone who’d spent his whole life in one city or another. Aside for the almost being killed by a crazed wolf It wasn’t a bad go. With this scenery it’d have even been a great place to go hiking.

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The state of the town confirmed my suspicion that it was likely I wasn’t on earth anymore. I guess it could be some elaborate hoax with paid actors, but my memories, the setting, and the sheer strangeness of it all made me think it was unlikely. Which in itself is a terrifying thought. How does “I’ve been transported to some other place or time, by some unknown method” become the most logical explanation of one's surroundings? 

The question then became where the hell was I, and how did I get here to begin with? I’d gone over the facts again while drowsing in the wagon. I had memories of going to work three days ago. I had memories of coming home, then the Fog came in. After that the first thing I remember was waking up in the cave. Was I kidnapped? Was I Dreaming? Did I somehow slide dimensions like that old sci-fi show? I needed more clues and the only way that was going to happen was to talk to people and explore. 

Willard spoke up as I was thinking. “Well, I’m gonna go find the general store, maybe there’s somethin’ decent to buy round here. After that it’s a room at the tavern before setting off tomorrow” He flipped a silver coin to me and I caught it. “Use that to buy yourself a meal, you’ll likely have to sleep on the floor, but I’ve been through here a time or two, and the Innkeep is a decent sort. It’s been a pleasure.” He finished speaking then tapped his mule with his pole and headed farther into town. 

I looked around for a moment before headed into the inn. If you called it ‘generic fantasy inn’ you’d be pretty close to the mark. A wooden sign that read Froliking Foal hung above the door. The smell of roasting meat and the sound of voices spilled out from the inside.

I pushed open the door to reveal a large common room filled with tables and chairs. A large stone hearth sat in the center of the room, and a large pot of stew bubbled over the fire. There were quite a few people inside drinking out of wooden goblets while eating stew and dark bread. There were all dressed in coarse earth-tone fabrics and the simple styles you’d expect from the peasants in some fantasy movie. I walked up to the barkeep and laid my silver on the counter. 

“Can I get something to eat?” I asked the middle aged man at the bar. He was a plump man with a balding head and huge forearms. His eyes were sympathetic as he took in my appearance and the coin on the counter.

“Sure son, just sit there and we’ll fix you up.” He rummaged behind the counter then walked to the pot in the middle of the room. Soon there was a loaf of the dark break, a bowl of stew, and a tankard of ale next to me. “You look like you’ve had a rough go of it.”

I slid onto a bar stool and started shoveling in the food. “That’s one way of putting It” I replied around my mouthful of bread. It was coarse rye, nothing like what I was used to but after nothing but fish for three days it was so good it made we want to weep. The stew was even better and soon I’d eaten it all it and took a big gulp of my ale to wash it down. I nearly choked on it. I’d always heard that the mass produced stuff we drink now was nothing to what they used to drink. They had to keep the alcohol content high to keep it from spoiling. I found there to be truth in those words as I forced myself to keep from spitting it up all over the bar. It tasted like I’d just put a handful of spoiled hops in my mouth and poured two shots of whisky on top of it.I coughed as I swallowed and looked up at the bar-keep with watering eyes. 

He just smiled happily and slapped me on the back. “That there’s the house stout lad, You looked like you could use a bit of a pick-me-up.” 

“That seems a bit more of a knock-me-down than a pick-me-up.” I wheezed. If I drank the rest of that I was going to end up passed out in a cave again.

“Nonsense, It’ll put some hair on your chest.” He refilled the mugs of a couple other patrons before returning to me. “You just got into town right?”

I slowly took another small sip of my ale. “Yeah, Been lost in the forest for a couple days Had a run-in with a wolf, but other than that it wasn’t too bad, the fishings pretty good around here.” The good food and the booze was lifting my mood. So I bragged a bit, “Was a close call though.” I said smiling.

His eyes went wide. “You killed a wolf with your bare hands, maybe you don’t need more hair on you chest after all.” He rummaged around under the bar again and sat a cup of water next to my ale. 

“My liver thanks you” I replied before taking a big gulp of the water.

He then leaned forward with a serious expression on his face. “Say, If you could handle a wolf, would you mind takin care of something for me? There’s a buncha rats that’ve taken up in the cellar, we don’t go down there much, but I need to bring up a new keg soon, and I don’t wanna deal with em. They’re right big bastards, and I ain't as fast as I used to be. You mind clearnin’ em out for me? I think there’s ten or so down there.”

Blurp

I just stared at him blankly for a good five seconds. 

You cannot be serious. I thought, stunned. 

“You want me to kill…. ten rats.” I replied in a flat voice. The truth hit me like a ton of bricks. It all fit. The cave, the too-pretty landscape, the electronic sound effects, the wolf disappearing, all of it. It was so obvious I wanted to cry. It was the answer I’d been looking for and it had been in front of me the whole time. Like most good answers, it brought up a bunch of other questions though. 

“Yeah, if you would It’d be a great help.” The bar-keep continued oblivious to my inner turmoil. 

I shook my head in disbelief before bursting out in half-hysterical laughter that made my abs and back hurt terribly, the pain made me laugh even harder. I laughed like a mad-man, I couldn’t stop and the strange and concerned looks from the other patrons made me laugh harder. I don’t know how long I laughed, but the tears were rolling down my cheeks, and all the muscles in my body ached when I finally calmed down. 

The barkeep was staring at me with a worried expression but I smiled, I waved my hand as if to pacify him. “Sorry about that It’s been a long couple of days. I’ll take care of the rats for you tomorrow.” 

Ba-Ding

I stood up from my stool, and walked outside into the cool evening air. I wandered through the small town until I found a place without anyone else around. Then I enunciated in a clear voice “Open Character Sheet.” A bright blue window projected onto the air in front of me. The window was transparent but the clear black letters made it easy to read.

Name:Enter NameLevel: 1Race:SelectClass:SelectAttributesStatusUBStr: 13LBStr: 11(-1) 10HP: 15/15Mana: 0/0End: 9(-1) 8Con: 14Stam: 9/9Panic: 3/10Agi:8(-2) 6Cord: 11Hunger: 99/100Thirst: 92/100Int:12Wis:11WoundsRes: 10Faith: 10Torso: (Moderate) Torn Abdominals(-25% agi)

Torso: (Moderate) Strained Back(-10% Lbs and End)SocialGuild: N/ATitles: N/AFame: 0Friend List: 0/0LinksInventorySkillsSpell BookLog