Chapter 12: A tale of cabbages, knives and rocks.
Meanwhile, Aaron has no clue about this crucial ability for any aspiring warrior and is soundly sleeping under a single layer on top of a wooden floor, the very picture of poverty if not for the sword sheath propped up against the wall beside him.
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Aaah, that was a good sleep. Yawning, I stretch my limbs as I get ready for the day. The lack of bedding really does hurt these old bones. I redress myself and check my coin pouch, now considerably heavier than before.
After getting back to town yesterday, I had sold the furs and boar hides I had arduously carried back to town. The furs, which had varying amounts of damage, tears and stab wounds, sold for 4 coppers apiece. With four of them, that totalled sixteen. The boar hides sold for a bit more; they could be made into a rudimentary armour, making them high in demand as cheap protective equipment. They sold for seven coppers each, leaving me with a total of thirty coppers.
I’m rich again! Hah, hardly, but it’s great having cash, you know? I count through again. I have a neat sum of thirty-three coppers and three silvers. Huh, what a coincidence. I chug a bit of water from my water skin.
Ah… How satisfying. The water here left a strange aftertaste in my mouth, and very obviously didn’t have the added chemicals that the Australian supply had to keep it free of bacteria and strengthen teeth. Talking about teeth… Now, we obviously weren’t carrying toothbrush and toothpaste with us when we transmigrated to this world.
So how aren’t all of us obsessing over how disgusting our teeth are? Well, some of us have it better than others. For instance, those with a water affinity can move a stream of water around in their mouth to collect and scum and grease. People like me…
Opening my mouth, I swirl the mass of fire inside around like some sort of hellish mouthwash. It doesn’t burn me unless I want it to, but I do want it to burn off all that fat and grease from yesterday’s meals. And so it does, leaving the unpleasant taste of ash in my mouth, but leaving my teeth considerably cleaner.
The fire quietly puffs out, leaving a thin trail of smoke drifting from my mouth in the darkened room. As for those that don’t have either of those affinities, they have to use the mundane way. Surprisingly, the people of this place are quite conscious of their dental hygiene. In one of the more useful general knowledge classes, we were taught how to make a few powders and pastes that, when put on a cloth and rubbed on the teeth, leave them cleaner and fresh-smelling.
Now for some breakfast. I need me some greens - I’m feeling a bit queasy, having eaten only meat for a few days. So, I head to the farmers’ market.
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I’d done some more exploring of the city yesterday, and this is one of the places I had found. A street lined on either side with stalls, chock full of green goodness. A few other colours of goodness as well.
When I get there, everyone is just finishing setting up their stalls and are starting to call out their wares to passers-by.
“Tomatoes, red and juicy, straight from the vine this morning!”
“The freshest and greenest of cabbages, bursting with flavour!”
“Carrots more orange than an orange! Come get some!”
So, what’s good? I don’t like tomatoes that much, maybe some peas, carrots and a nice leafy cabbage.
I head over to the carrot man and ask for a few carrots. A couple coppers each, I’m down to twenty-seven. Next are some peas. Naturally, they’re still in the pods. And he can’t exactly sell these at a price per pod. He grabs a handful and pops them in a bowl on one side of a set of scales. Slowly adding weights on the other side until the sides are balanced. Seven coppers. Twenty.
Then I walk over to the cabbage man. As I get there, someone in a cloak brushes past, kicking over the cart and seizing a cabbage as they fall, before turning and sprinting away. The spindly man behind the upturned stall lets out a despairing shriek.
“MY CABBAGES!”
Well that brings back good memories. I help the poor guy collect the cabbages rolling around on the ground. Once they were all back on the now righted displays, he thanks me.
“Thanks for the help. I don’t know what I would have done if my precious cabbages rolled around in the dust much longer!”
He looks quite distraught as he says this. They did look like nice cabbages, but now they have a bit of dust and dirt on them. He turns them over, meticulously dusting them off, one by one. I ask him how much for a cabbage.
“Yes, yes, very cheap, very delicious cabbages, only eight coppers! But because you helped me so kindly, I’ll bring it down to six coppers!”
Excellent, I’ll never reject a discount. As long as I already plan to buy it, at least. I pay the cabbage man and deposit my newly acquired leafy greens into a sack with the rest of my veggies, and put the sack into my knapsack. Next stop is the blacksmith’s.
The city looks to be sectioned into districts, with places like blacksmiths or dyers with their smoke and smells away from the more ‘civilised’ parts of town. The farmers market isn’t exactly in a higher tier part of town, but it is in a different area.
Heading over there takes a short while, but after that I find myself stepping into the shop area of a blacksmith. Not a fancy one, of course. There aren’t too many blacksmiths around in this city, so there’s only three to choose from. I’m not exactly here for a mithril lance, so I head over to one of the two without a fancy sign.
The room is warm, and I can hear the loud sound of hammering coming from the back. A burly youth welcomes me from behind the counter, the wall lined with all manner of weapons and tools. Youth? Well, from some perspectives, early twenties is young. That is around half my age, after all.
“Hey. What you buying?”
How blunt. Like his hammer. Get it? Eh, it was pretty weak I suppose.
“Got any knives?”
He smirks and pulls out a thick, folded piece of cloth. Unrolling it along the counter, a good dozen knives are lined up in little pouches along it.
“What type of knife you want? Dagger, meat cleaver, vegetable, fruit, throwing knives, we have them all.”
Hey, throwing knives do sound useful. It would take time to get used to them and I don’t have much coin, so maybe not now. And that’s not what I came for. I came for…
“Vegetable knife, please.”
His smile decreases slightly in size, but it’s still there. He slips a knife out of one of the pockets and holds it up for me to see.
“Bronze knife, single edge. Thin, blade length of ten centimetres. Comes with simple leather sheath. Twenty coppers.”
Sounds good. I’m currently on… Fourteen coppers.
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“Do you have change for a silver? I’m nearly out of coppers.”
He does, so I get a neat eighty coppers in change. I count them, one by one. I wish there were an easier way to do this. Sweeping them all into my coin pouch, I pull the drawstring tight and attach it back to my belt. Collecting my new knife, I deposit it into my knapsack. As I leave, he calls out to me.
“Come again when you need a bigger blade.”
I wave farewell as I exit the store. Aaaannd there goes all the cash I earned yesterday. Oh well. Worth it. If I don’t eat vegetables I won’t be able to get far, I need all those nutrients and minerals and sciency things.
I suppose, I’ll just have to earn the money back. So I head back out into the forest and find another clearing. As I get there, I see a peculiar sight.
A jumble of multicoloured light congregating into a single point. I wonder if this is dangerous? It sure looks dangerous.
Then the world exploded. Just kidding.
Then out of the multicoloured light stepped… A boar. Oh, hello breakfast!
It must be severely disoriented, because I just walk up to the thing and off it. Then I skin it and carve myself a slice. Looking around, I find myself a nice long stick, which I clean with a spot of magical fire and impale the hunk of meat.
Sticking that stick into the ground, I set about making a fireplace. Clearing an area of leaves, finding kindling, some thicker branches which I can still snap apart, and I have a fire set up. Then all it takes is a little flame to start the fire, and I soon have a warm blaze going. I move the stick to hang over the fire.
Then I get out the vegetables, only to realise I have no surface to prepare them on. Awkwardly placing the vegetables on top of the sack they were previously in, which is now stretched out on the ground, I start to prepare them. Cabbage is easy, it doesn’t really need anything. But I give it a quick fire treatment to get rid of a bit of whatever bacteria or bugs may be dwelling on or in the cabbage. I do the same with all the other veggies. I’m sure this isn’t the best way to do it, but it’s better than doing nothing.
I cut open all the pea pods with my new knife – yes, this is pretty much all I got it for. I check for insects in all of them, because I’m a bit paranoid about accidentally eating bugs. Then I give it another round of fire treatment. I eat some of them, and put the rest back into the sack…. That the rest of the veggies are still on.
It creates a bit of a lump near the entrance. I cut a carrot in half and cut the leafy bit off the end. Chucking one half and the other two carrots in the sack, I find myself another stick, fire treatment, impale carrot, stick over fire. While I’m at it I turn the meat.
Ripping off a few leaves of cabbage, I straight up eat them. Ah, fresh veggies, how I have missed you. The stew back at the keep wasn’t bad, but I needed something different. I chuck the cabbage back in the sack and the sack back in my knapsack. Y’know, if I’m going to stay around town, why did I even get the canvas for a tent in the first place?
Anyway, there should be some monsters coming here sometime soon because of the scent of blood and cooking meat. I suppose most people won’t cook wolf or boar meat usually. It doesn’t taste very good, after all.
…Although, that might just be my cooking. I blame it on the lack of herbs and spices! Yes, there is no salt! I am perfectly capable of cooking back on earth with a large variety of dried herbs, pre-processed meats and pre-made sauces! This does not sound like an excuse whatsoever!
Ah, here they are. There are less than yesterday, it seems, with only a few wolves peeking between the trees. I ready some of the earthen needles I used yesterday, they seemed to work quite nicely.
One of them whips through the air towards a wolf, nailing it right between the… Foot and shoulder blade. Okay, accuracy is still a bit of an issue when there’s a moving target. But I crippled it, and my second one kills it. Even better, this doesn’t damage their hides much, so I may be able to get a bit more for these.
Wolves really are quite weak, which is why their skins are so cheap. A normal person with a sword, or even a farmer with a pitchfork or hoe, could probably beat them in a one-on-one fight. Only problem is, wolves are pack animals. Or monsters. So normal people get overwhelmed by multiple enemies attacking them at once.
Which these are currently doing.
I kind of miss having a shield, being able to block or bash with it, it really was quite useful. I might get another one in the future. Or maybe not, who knows. Kicking works quite well against beasts like these, I think as my booted foot clips the furry chin of a wolf, sending it reeling backwards in pain.
Meanwhile, the last wolf is getting treated to my professional acupuncture techniques. Or maybe not so professional. Turns out, ‘right between the eyes’, there’s bone. Eyes are better targets, all soft… tissue?
It looks like it has a little brown horn. The amazing, unique, uniwolf! Yeah, doesn’t have quite the same ring to it.
A moment later it is a biwolf, as my last needle punctures through one of its eyes and into the brain. Not much of the needle is above the surface - it looks gruesome.
I’m about to clean my sword on the grass when I realised that I hadn’t used it. So much for being a warrior. I should really only use magic if I have to.
Sheathing the sword, I walk back to the fire, turn the meat around and grab the stick the carrot is on. The carrot is on fire.
Great… I blow it out, but it is now burnt a crispy black. At least the meat is fine.
Waiting a few moments for it cool down, I bite into it. The surface is charcoal, but inside is nice soft carroty goodness.
Delicious. Apart from the charcoal.
I set out to skin the wolves, while making sure I keep an eye on the cooking meat. Three wolf skins and a boar hide. That should be at least nineteen coppers, enough for another couple days of rent with some left over. If I can get at least this much every day, it should be sustainable – no need for a part-time job after all.
Now I need to find some place to train. It’s not enough just running back and forth between the city, that’ll only strengthen my legs, heart, maybe lungs a bit… I need a place where I can do weightlifting, swing my sword, maybe some sprinting. And all without being bothered much by monsters. Which is a bit of a tall order.
After all, this isn’t modern day civilisation, where you can buy yourself a treadmill, a set of weights and an exercise bike to be all set for getting fit. You want to lift something? Find yourself a big rock, or a rotting log. You want to go running? What are you waiting for? There’s a whole field out there for you to run around. Cycling? What’s that?
That might be something to think about, actually. Could bicycles be introduced here? The bicycle chains and gears would be hard to reproduce, though, wouldn’t they? The only processing method for metals here is hammer and tongs, and that won’t exactly cut it for gears, will it?
Eh, that’s all irrelevant to me anyway. If I can find a secluded place with some big rocks or logs that would be good. So, I have a bit of a wander around the forest, head towards the mountains in the north a bit…
After a few hours of looking around, I find a nice little place… Not really. It’s a cave. But! But, it’s not one of those big, dark, deep, dank caves with long tunnels that inevitably lead to dangerous monsters surrounded by deadly traps, not one bit like that at all! Small cave, dry, a few boulders and rocks, dust, insects, that sort of thing.
One entrance, a bit of space, everything a guy could want. Kind of.
Not much light, is there? Don’t s’pose there’s any convenient torch brackets lining the walls? No? Oh well. I’ll be back in a minute.
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Arms wrapped around a large bundle of sticks of various shapes and sizes, I step into the entrance of the cave. I then proceed to dump the bundle with a clatter, the sound echoing in the large, vacant, and still quite dark space. Fumbling around in the near perfect darkness, I pick up a big stick and set one end – the one I’m not holding – on fire with a miniscule exertion of magic.
Placing it on the floor in the middle of the cave, I return to the bundle of sticks, pick up as many as I’m able to with a single arm, and begin to lay them down. I place them end to end on top of the burning stick, until there is a long, twisting coil of sticks in the middle of the cave.
I don’t have the spare cloth and or oil to make a proper, long burning torch, so a trail of sticks should prolong it sufficiently, right?
My brilliant and innovative idea will undoubtedly provide me with light for however long I decide to stay in here. Now, to get down to business lifting excessively large pebbles. How should I describe this while staying entertaining? Hm.
I’ve got it!
I won’t.
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Noticing the sunlight from the entrance growing dim, I stop my sweat-inducing heavy lifting of compacted earthy substances for extended periods of time. Wiping the sweat induced from said sweat-inducing activity off my brow, I remove the next stick in line to be a light source; No point in wasting the effort used to bring them here.
The light the sticks provided was, admittedly, quite dim. This grows quite apparent when my eyes instinctively shut upon reaching the cave entrance. Squinting against the comparatively bright light streaming down from the heavens, I forge my way forwards with one arm thrown overhead, shielding me from the heavy blows the sun is raining down upon me.
After approximately seven hours (I may, may be exaggerating here), my eyes adjust to the laser-intensity light boring holes into the earth, and I have made my way to the river. I can’t go back to town like this, can I? Covered in sweat, smelling like a wild animal, clothes quite sopping with sweat and stained with no small amount of blood.
I would clean my clothes, but I don’t have another set. It would be quite strange to walk into town sopping wet, wouldn’t it? So, it’ll have to wait until I’ve saved up enough for some more clothing. Which means that in the meantime, people will be giving me a wide berth in town. Could be worse, I suppose. People could be crowding around me.
Now, why do I have this nagging feeling that I’m missing out on something important?
Oh well, I’m sure that it will resolve itself conveniently at some point in the near future.