After about an hour of walking with the four not taking a single break, they went from dirt path to cobbled road. By this time, Marc had a lot of questions, more than he could really put into words. Eventually, he decided that, if this was going to be his last day alive, he mind as well sate his curiosity.
“Hey, where did my bag go?” Marc blurted out the first question that came to mind.
Barry was the one who answered, “It’s in my pack with most of my ritual ingredients.”
“It fits?”
“Well, yeah. It’s a Vracht Pack. It can hold something like 60 gallons of water. It’d leak a bit if you filled it all the way though.”
That. . . didn’t make sense. Though he was not the most mathematically inclined, he was pretty sure that 1 gallon of water was a bit shy of 10 pounds. That meant that Barry had a pack that could carry nearly 600 pounds of water while only leaking a bit. And even then, he was pretty sure it would be massive. While Barry was wearing his loose sack-cloak, there was no way he had a bag that size.
Barry then proceeded to take a small drawstring pouch from his waist. It looked like it could hold a fist and a half worth of stuff, “This here. You’ll get your stuff back as long as you aren’t an Esoteric Demon.” Ah, perfect, a magic bag. H e should have figured.
Fray then interjected, “Demons are always Divine, specifically Profane.”
Helen called out, “He could be an Escha, they can be Esoteric.” He was familiar with the concept of Demons, but not an Eska. This was the first time he had heard a word entirely foreign to him, besides the spells which he didn’t count.
Marc decided to ask, “What is an Eska?”
It was Nico who responded from in front, though he took a few steps back to be heard better, “Escha are the enemies of Archontes. The apocalypse cult ones. He isn’t an Escha.” Nico seemed to prioritize quick answers, but apocalypse cult told Marc all he needed to know. And thankfully, Nico knew something that disqualified Marc from being one of them.
Marc thought for a moment, before deciding on his next question, “So, what is with the whole ‘Daughter of Fray’ thing? Is it religious?” If he was correct, then he was basically dealing with a zealot, and could at least somewhat understand the hostility.
Fray gained a look of pride, happy to tell the tale “At the beginning of the last age, a man named Fray rose above his cohorts to the highest of echelons. He became the War Master, a soldier without equal, a general without peer.” She looked Marc straight in the eyes, her conviction gleaming through. “He led the Sage Lands against the Skyblight Raxxivar, and upon returning home, united the 4 Clans under him in the new land of Fray. He would be alive today, but for the Winter Court.”
Her voice and eyes gained a new venom. She distrusted Marc, but she hated the Winter Court. “They deceived Fray’s youngest child, his only son. They stole the boy’s true name. With that, they had power over him. He was taken into Tirnanog, and Fray charged after him, never to return. His only surviving family were his daughters.Since that day, no child of Fray tells their true name to any.”
It was like a folk tale, but more. . . mythic in feel. Like the Iliad for Greece, this was her nation’s origin story. It may not have been religious, but Fray believed it like it was.
After getting that answer, Marc was unsure if he wanted to ask any more questions, but thought one more would be acceptable.
“Hey Nico?”
“Hmm?”
“You’re an. . .elf?”
“Cavern elf. From Trinity City. The city below, specific” He confirmed.
Barry picked up the conversation from there.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
“Me and Fray are from up here. My father is the Hierophant further north, at Mystle Academy. Fray is from Iron Mountain if I remember correctly, right?” She nodded. “Then Nico and Helen are from Trinity City, way far south.”
“Thanks Barry.”
“Sure thing!”
Marc was starting to get a mental map of this place in his head. He’d accepted that he was in some fantasy world, or Realm if you will, and that if this was all fake, he was probably in a mental hospital ranting to invisible monsters. Or it was a dream.
Whichever it was, this was his reality now. They continued in silence.
About a half hour later, as they were passing a large wooded hill, Barry asked him a question, “Hey Guy, where are you from?”
“Oh, I’m from the state of Pennsylvania, right on the border with New York.”
“Wow! I don't know what either of those are. Other planes must be interesting.” Barry’s response had basically confirmed his thought from before. If he hadn't already seen magic, he’d assume these people were just high-effort LARPers.
Nico decided to join in, “Outside Planes are hard to live in. For us,” the last part directed at Marc.
“Pennsylvania is pretty similar to this all things considered. No monsters, at least nothing like that spider though.”
“Any Elves there?” Nico asked.
“I’ve never met an elf before you.”
Nico nodded, looking somewhat disappointed.
“So, what does being a. . . Sapper? What does that mean?”
“Its a second echelon class, comes from alchemist and rogue. I started as an alchemist, and Fray bought me a rogue Historia when she hired me. I can use earth magic to make tunnels. I can also take down structures a lot easier if I need it.”
“What’s a Historia? And Echelon?”
Barry looked back at him with incredulity for a moment but stumbled a bit and looked forward again. He was still dragging Marc’s wheelbarrow behind him. Fray sighed. Marc hoped that meant she realized he wasn’t what she thought, but it probably meant she thought he was a bad actor.
“Um. I haven’t had to describe this before. They’re the crystal you used to get your class.”
“I just woke up with it. The Wanderer class.”
“I don’t think I've ever heard of someone getting a historia in their sleep, but maybe if one manifested on you? Echelon is a measure of progress. Each Echelon upgrades your class from before, based on how you used it and what Historia you’ve invested in. You must have been from a very isolated plane to not know this stuff.”
Nico turned to Barry, “Or Outside Planes have different words for them. Most Outsiders have some translation skill on any plane except their home.”
Marc shrugged, cringing at the pain it caused. Whatever the answer was, he didn’t know it.
----------------------------------------
They continued moving for a few hours. Barry was reliably pulling Marc along, but didn’t seem to realize that the wheelbarrow bouncing up and down made Marc feel far worse. Helen notified everyone that it was just past noon, and they pulled off the road to a small flat area, where they sat down.
Barry used the knife Marc had seen before and another tool, now clearly some kind of flint wand, to create a bonfire. Here, Barry told Marc that he was the one that healed him from his near death, and tried to cast his healing spell again. Nico took out a number of herbs and began chopping them up on a table Helen had magically grown from the ground, while the hunter herself had pulled out a seemingly fresh Jackalope.
Yes, apparently Jackalopes were real here, and were commonly used for food. It helped that they seemed to come up to waist height, with their antlers easily being chest level with Marc.
Throughout this, Fray was off to the other side of the road, seemingly practicing. At the start, she had drawn her knife across the lower part of her palm, before using some kind of magic to summon the armor Marc had seen her using before. With it came two one-handed axes, and a larger two-hander. The title of Blood Knight made a lot of sense very quickly.
Marc apologized that he couldn't do much, but Barry and Helen had assured him that he was fine. The former told him that his health was critical and he was wounded, while the latter said that he was their prisoner and she’d rather not risk him poisoning their food. When he tried to assure her that he wouldn’t, she said that it wasn’t the attempt to kill her that bothered her, it would be the fact it made the meal taste worse.
The Jackalope Roast tasted like a mix of venison and, oddly, cod. It was surprisingly well made, and if it was on the menu at a restaurant Marc would definitely order it again. The fact that Marc was even given a portion was somewhat surprising to him.
After their lunch, the group of 4 and their prisoner continued. Marc learned that Grand Vale was the largest city within the forest. It was atop Orchard Hill, and in the valley of a mountain range called the Waold by the Dryads. The Dryads of the area were actually friendly, apparently a rarity, and the city’s monarch was an Elder Dryad.
When the rest of the three chimed out in excitement, Marc wished he could turn around. Another thing caught his eyes though, as a tablet appeared in front of him.
YOU HAVE TRAVELED FAR AND WIDE. YOU GAIN 1 INSTANCE OF {SIGHTSEEKER}
Marc was grinning as they walked through the gates of Grand Vale, once more in society.