Isa paused in scrubbing the massive cast iron skillet and wiped her forehead. You’d think that they’d have made a magic spell to deal with chores like this. She’d spent the morning with dishes and glasses and silverware. It seemed that Lund dirtied dishes just to have her clean them. Just when she thought she’d reached the end of the pile, more would appear. Isa didn’t want to complain - after all Lund was doing her a huge favor. The least she could do was knuckle down and get the work done.
He’d promised the afternoon free so that Isa could take care of the two quests she had in her log. When she’d checked her notebook this morning she saw that her first quest, to deliver the book to Fedru, now had a thin line through it. That was to denote (she guessed) that the quest was complete.
She ran her fingers over the surface of the skillet. She’d gotten the major clumps, and now it felt fairly clean and ready for a final scrub and oil. And once she was done with the mammoth skillet, she was free. Lifting the pan from the sink and hoisting it to the table was difficult. Lund had handled it with one hand, casually setting it on the table for her this morning.
“Is this how you gain strength stat?” she said aloud. A few days of this, and I’ll be throwing this pan around like a toy.
Half an hour later, Isa was standing in front of the tavern with her bags across her shoulders. Lund had told her that Morgan’s Tannery was south of town, down a small path in the woods. “You’ll smell it before you see it, trust me.” He gave her an encouraging smile. “It’s a well worn path. No beasties to speak of, but keep your staff handy. Oh, and,” he lowered his voice, “likely Morgan will offer to buy your piss. Up to you, but it’s worth 5 copper if you do.”
“He will buy my what? What kind of guy is this? That’s just disgusting!”
“I keep forgetting you’re a stranger. That’s how you tan leather, yeah? Nothing like piss for it. That’s why he’s outside of town. Some of the locals sell him their horse piss; some sell their own, if they have a mind. It’s no way to make a living, but if you’re there and he asks….”
“Five copper. That’s like half a silver piece, right?”
He pushed her gently toward the side of the tavern. “Off you go. Time is awasting.”
Half a silver to pee in a cup? She could use the money, gross as it sounded.
Isa had been in Varana for over 24 hours, and she’d killed a deer, washed a mountain of dishes, and now she was contemplating selling her urine to a strange man. And she’d been so busy that she hadn’t thought of home in hours. What was Marissa doing? Did she even know that Isa was missing? But then, was she missing? Maybe all of this was happening inside a split second of the real world.
The real world. This world, Isa used her staff to swat at a branch overhead, seems awfully real. She paused and took a deep breath. There were things about this world that were really lovely. The air was always fresh; the trees and plants looked healthy and vibrant. There was no trash strewn about. No crushed McDonald’s cups, no giant Starbucks’ straws, no ATM receipts. No smog, no smoke-- Oh, there was smoke ahead. A thin tendril of smoke rose into the sky. Cook fire maybe? Or was she close to Morgan’s now? Another hundred yards down the path and the eye-watering smell of hot urine hit Isa’s nostrils. She’d found Morgan’s.
With one hand on the big bag, she strode forward. Let’s hope that Fedru really is this man’s friend. Isa could use a little good luck in negotiating a price for some armor.
Armor. It felt very weird to call it that, but that was only one of many things she needed to reconcile about Varana. Think of it like motorcycle leathers, she told herself. That’s basically what it is.
Yeah, but what kind of weirdo would wear leathers and not ride a motorcycle? No one is going to judge you. And of they do, so what? Better to be alive and have people think you’re pretentious, right?
The woods thinned until it became a clearing. The tannery consisted of 3 buildings. One was set far from the others, and Isa wondered if that’s where Morgan lived. A small stream trickled by the other buildings, and Isa raised her voice in greeting. “Hello! I’m looking for Morgan. Looking to trade.”
A man stepped from between the two outbuildings, wiping his hands on a pale piece of cloth. “Always looking to trade. What have you got there, girl?” The man got closer, and Isa tried not to flinch at his smell.
“Fedru the wizard said that you might trade raw hides for armor. I have deer hides.”
He gestured at her bag. “Let’s see.”
Isa handed him the bag and watched as he pulled out the bundles, unwound them, and laid them flat. The strips were bigger than she’d remembered, but the truth was she’d purposefully avoided watching Mery skin the dead deer. The sound was bad enough without the visuals.
“Nicely done,” he said. “You’ve got a steady hand there.” He crossed his arms and stared at the hides.
Silence stretched out as the man stood over the hides. Finally Isa said, “What do you think?”
“What do I think? What do you think?” He met her eyes. “What do you want for them?”
“Hide armor?”
The man ducked his head, and Isa thought she saw a flash of a smile. “Are you askin’ or tellin’?”
“Telling.” She tried to sound brusk. “Pants and a jacket. Do you have black? Dark brown would be OK too.” Dark colors to hide dirt.
“Hundred silver for hide armor.” Morgan thrust his chin at the hides on the ground. “Seem a fair trade to you, then?”
Isa bit her lip. “I have no idea. I’ve never--” She stopped herself. Be strong. “I don’t usually buy my gear this way. I’m from the city.”
“I’ll bet you are.”
She needed the armor and who knew how long it would take her to save up 100 silver coins. “I could, ah, come pee for you every day.” She blurted out the offer before she changed her mind. It sounded much worse out loud than she’d expected.
Morgan’s head shot up. “What did you just say?” He took a step toward her, and Isa took a step back instinctively. “I said that I could come um, give you my urine every day for a few weeks. To help offset the cost of the armor.”
“Your urine. I thought that’s what you said.”
“It was just an idea.” Isa took another step back. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“And who told you that I’d want such a thing, hmm?”
Isa’s face scrunched up as if she expected Morgan to try to hit her. “Lund.” She felt a pang of guilt for naming Lund, but this man seemed to be on the edge of violence, and he needed to know that she hadn’t meant to offend.
“The orc?”
“He was just trying to help me out. I’m new here, and….”
Isa stopped talking because Morgan had begun to laugh. He held his sides, slapped his leg, and downright guffawed. “That miserable, moth-eaten, vinegar-swilling, green son of a bitch! He got me.” He wiped his eyes. “Oh, he got me this time. Where is he? He’s got to be hiding somewhere. He wouldn’t miss this, oh no.”
“I really don’t understand. He told me that you’d ask. He said--”
Just then Lund burst from the trees and tackled Morgan. The two men rolled in the dirt wrestling for a few seconds before Morgan emerged on top. “You sneaky bastard! Send a pretty girl. Morgan will fall for it. And I did!” He stood up and offered a hand to Lund. “I should have recognized my own handiwork on the bracers, but I thought she was a crazy girl come from Hanchen way or something. I was about to whack her on the head, but then I knew. I saw the greasy hand of a second-rate barkeep who sells third-rate beer to the flea-bitten citizens of Bilgewater.”
“It’s Bywater, as you well know. And you deserved everything you got and more!” He turned to Isa. “Do you know this man paid, paid! a gnome to play act as a wizard who was cursing my beer. I was shaking in my boots, wondering how I’d manage when the little bastard dropped his wand, lost his hat, and nearly passed out on the floor, he was so drunk.”
The delight in the two men’s faces was too much for Isa. All the fear, confusion, and indignation at being an unwitting part of Lund’s prank melted away, and she took a bow. “I am honored to have been a part of history.”
Lund thumped Morgan on the back. “Morgan Mason, this is Isa Chamberlin. The lass does need decent armor. What can you do for her?”
“The hides are good, but….”
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The rest of Morgan’s thoughts were lost to Isa because Lund turned him around and bent to say something in Morgan’s ear. After a moment the man nodded and turned back to Isa. “You said black, is that right? Give me a moment.” With that he jogged to the main building, the one set apart from the others.
“What did you say to him?” Isa asked Lund. “He wasn’t going to trade with me. What did you say?”
Lund shrugged. “I told him that you are a stranger here, that you’re just starting out, that you’ll be a good friend to have.”
A few minutes later Morgan was back with a pile of leather armor in his arms. He dumped it on the ground. “This is used armor, mind. But it’s sturdy, and it will do until you can afford to give me 100 silver pieces for a new set made up just for you.” He held up a jacket, and Isa saw spatters of dark red all along the right side.
“You couldn’t clean off the blood?” Lund leaned down and rummaged through the pile. “These pants look about your size.” He held up a pair of black leather trousers. They were simple pants with long reinforced patches along the tops of the thighs.
“There was a nasty gash on one leg, so I added the patches,” said Morgan.
Isa set her staff on the grass and took the pants and held them to her waist. They seemed about right, and the length wasn’t bad. A little short probably, but it was a start.
Morgan held up a tunic that laced on the side. It had half sleeves that ended at the elbows. The shoulders had extra pads like a football player’s uniform. The front part showed that it had been designed for a woman, a woman with a more generous chest than Isa, but again, she couldn’t expect too much for second-hand. Below the breast, the tunic had 3 Vs where strips of leather were sewn together to create a stiff middle section. Overall the top looked heavy, but well made.
“Try them on,” Morgan said and pointed to the main building. “First door on your left is a changing room. Don’t mind the cats.”
As Isa walked toward the building she heard Morgan say, “You sick bastard! Now I need to think long and hard how to repay you, you know that, don’t you?”
Despite Morgan’s warning, Isa didn’t see any cats. She found the changing room and dropped the leathers on the bench just inside the door. Isa sat down beside them and unlaced her sneakers. She would need better shoes. Somehow she didn’t think that her teal and magenta Brooks really went with black leather trousers. So, one more thing to buy. Add it to the list. Shoes, a sword, a healing potion (she should ask Lund about those), water flask, a change of clothes, what else? What else do people have here? Maybe if she saw Mery again, she could get some advice.
With a sigh Isa unbuttoned her jeans and slid them down. Oh yeah, and regular baths. She needed to know how that worked. Lund mentioned a hot water ration, but he didn’t go into detail. And underwear. She needed underwear.
If she’d known she was going to slip into another world, she would have packed an overnight bag, right?
The leather pants went on easily. They had a lace-up front instead of buttons or a zipper. The length was good. She squatted. They had a little give, which was nice - she’d be able to turn, bend, run if she needed to. “Let’s hope you don’t need to.”
Next Isa slipped off her jacket and picked up the leather tunic. She was wearing a soft v-neck long sleeve t-shirt, and it seemed right to leave that on as an undershirt to the tunic. She put her arm through the left sleeve and pulled the tunic over and snug to her body. She saw a small strap with a hole at the end that should secure the right shoulder pad to the tunic. She pulled it down and fitted it over a small metal stud. The right hand laces on the side were more challenging but Isa managed to pull them tight enough and double knotted the strings.
With a tug on the tunic she turned to look at herself in the small mirror on the wall. Her head and neck looked fine, and that was all she could see. She moved her arms back and forth and swung her torso left to right. The top didn’t have the supple give of the pants. There would be chafing; she was sure of it. Maybe a bandana at her neck to help with the collar. She could probably get that from that Anne lady.
She stood on tiptoe to try to get a look at her chest. It felt OK, but she had to wonder if she looked ridiculous. Maybe she could stand on the bench…. It seemed sturdy, so Isa stepped up and turned to look in the mirror. Now she was looking at her waist and hips. The laces actually made her stomach look pretty flat. Something to remember when she got back home: lace-up pants are flattering. She bent to look at her chest. The breast area didn’t jut out like she feared. It was much more of a rounded look to the chest piece, and the 3 v-shaped strips actually helped make it all look natural.
She flexed her shoulders again and pantomimed whacking someone with her staff. Yeah, the tunic moved with her. It was stiff, but it seemed to give in the right spots. “If I have my staff in my left hand, then I wear the dagger on my right.” She made to take an imaginary dagger from an imaginary sheath. “That’s awkward. I should wear it on my left. Reach across my belly and, hah! Take that!” She mimed jabbing a dagger.
And then the absurdity of it all came crashing through. Isa Chamberlin, Junior Miss Clover 2001, Gamma Phi Beta, soon to be Masters student, was standing on a bench, wearing leather armor, playacting at fighting.
“You’re not a fighter. You don’t want to be a fighter. You want to go home.” Ever since she’d arrived people - be honest, it’s Joth Windbane - had been trying to mold her into a role. What could she possibly have that he needed?
Only way to find is to ask. Isa hopped off the bench. Not much jiggle, that was good. Of course she was wearing a sports bra. Bras. She’d need those too, damn it.
Isa stepped to the mirror and peered at her face. “You need to work because you need money to live, just like at home. Doesn’t mean you have to do anything dangerous or stupid, right?” She pointed a finger at her reflection. “You are in charge.”
A scratching at the door interrupted her pep talk. “Merr? Mah. Mauw?”
Isa opened the door and saw a small gray striped cat standing there. The cat walked to her, put its front paws on Isa’s leg and stretched. Then it hopped on the bench and sat down. She sat down beside it to put her shoes on. “Hey cat,” said Isa. And then she stopped. Do cats talk here? Maybe it’s not a cat but a little demon or a shapeshifter or something.
But the cat ignored Isa and began to lick one paw.
OK, normal cat then. And a normal size, too. Considering the spiders Isa had seen, housecats might have been the size of panthers.
“Can I pick you up, at least?” Isa scooped up the cat and walked out of the building. The cat said, “Ma-rah!” and squirmed just a bit, but it allowed Isa to carry it all the way to where Morgan and Lund stood.
“You’ve met the devil, I see.” Morgan reached out and stroked the cat’s head. “Mee-ehhh,” said the cat.
“She seems like an angel. What’s her name?”
“That is Paka. Do not be fooled.”
“Let’s see you,” said Lund.
Isa put the cat on the grass and turned around. “What do you think?”
Lund nodded. “Looks pretty good. Not a bad fit, Morgan.”
“Yeah,” the man looked Isa up and down. “This will get you through for a few weeks. Lund says you’re a fighter.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Isa felt her cheeks get hot.
“Nothing to be embarrassed about!” said Morgan. “Fightin’ is honorable work. Not flashy or complicated - though some people make it so. Good, honest work being a fighter.” He raised an eyebrow. “Good coin, too, if you have the connections. Caravan guard, watchman, security. Low risk, steady pay.”
Isa smiled. “Sounds like you know a thing or two about being a fighter.”
“I have a few moves.” Morgan pumped his arms a few times. “I’d be happy to share a few pointers with you sometime.”
Oh no, was he flirting with her? All the men in Isa’s life - in her other life - knew she was gay so she rarely had to traverse these waters. She bent to pick up her staff. “Thanks for the offer.” Of course he had just given her a great deal on armor. She smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind.” To Lund she said, “Thanks for the help. I need to get to that temple.”
“Isa’s going to the wizard temple,” Lund to Morgan. “She wants to talk books to them.”
“You’re a noble, then?” Morgan picked up Paka and scratched her ears.
“Ah, no. More of a scholar, I guess. I don’t know.”
He nodded. “If you follow the stream up, you can loop around Bywater to the east. Save you some time.”
The trail that followed the stream was narrow but easy to follow. Obviously people and animals used it often. Which probably meant that it was a spider-free zone.
In the real world - she needed to stop saying that. This was a real world too, whether she liked it or not. Back home then. Back home, Isa didn’t really think about spiders. She wasn’t frightened of them or fond of them. They rarely had a starring role in her day. But here, she felt like she was developing a downright phobia about them. She really should ask Lund about how to fight them.
She gripped the staff that Lund had given her. He’d sawed off 6 inches so that the staff stood just a little taller than Isa’s 5 feet, 6 inch height. “That will help with control and weight,” he’d said when he handed it to her. “But you lose a little reach. For now, it can’t be helped, though. Once you’re stronger, you can buy a decent 6 footer. Spruce maybe. Or one of the elven woods, if you can afford it.” Each end was tipped with a metal cap, and Lund had wrapped a thin band of leather around the middle.
After breakfast they had taken 30 minutes to practice in the kitchen garden. Lund had taken her through some basic moves with the staff as a two handed weapon. “Get used to using it both one and two-handed, eh? That way, if you need to, you can.”
She could see what he’d meant about it being like dancing. If fighting could ever be like dancing, of course.
“Practice every day,” he said. “Even by yourself, practice.”
With that in mind she brought the staff up and swatted at a clump of water reeds growing by the stream. They parted to reveal a dog-like creature squatting beside the water. Isa and the creature made eye contact, and before Isa could do anything, the creature leapt toward her. It was wearing armor and stood on two legs. If anything, it reminded Isa of a down and out Wile E. Coyote.
Any question of intent quickly drained away as a growl ripped from the creature’s throat, and it lunged at her with a sharpened stick. Isa was too shocked to do anything to block the attack and the spear grazed her left side, tearing at her new armor.
“Hey!” The word left Isa’s mouth without thought. She brought the staff around in a sweeping motion, like Lund had taught her. She connected with his legs and the creature crumpled to the ground. He bounced up in a flash though and crouched low. With a low growl he jumped at her, his mouth open.
Isa was able to dodge aside and keep her feet. As the creature moved past her she tried to swipe it with her staff but missed.
Quicker than she expected, her enemy wheeled around and bit her left arm. She felt teeth punch through the leather bracers, and she screamed in pain. Without thought she used her free right hand to punch it in the nose. The creature yelped and retreated.
Isa took that moment to take off running up the path. With any luck she could outrun the creature. Maybe she wouldn’t trade in her Brooks just yet. After a few seconds she chanced a glance behind her. She didn’t see anything, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still behind her.
A few more seconds and Isa realized that she could feel blood running down her side. Her left side, and her left arm, felt like fire, but Isa kept running as fast as she could. Tears streamed down her face. She’d been attacked by a-- by what exactly? Some sort of dog-man? More man than dog since he wore armor and used a spear.
She vowed to not leave the safety of Lund’s again until she had a better understanding of this world and its denizens. If random creatures were going to brutally attack her, she needed to know how to fight back. And not just fight back, Isa needed to know how to win.