He stumbled to find the right words. No. Were there even words that fit his situation?

Richard wasn't in America, he wasn't even in his own world anymore. He was somewhere else, in a body that wasn't his own. Great! Just fantastic. It's always what he wanted and dreamed of.

"You okay?" The man asked as he saw the confusion on Richard's face.

Glancing up at him, Richard nodded once. He was not okay, but he'd be a fool to panic. What was the point? Richard also secretly hoped that this was a dream that he'd eventually wake up from. But he was not holding out too much hope for that.

"Yeah... just thinking is all." Richard told the man.

He felt a bit antsy, nervous, and afraid. Richard pointed at the unconscious man. "What's the deal with him?" Richard asked.

"Nothing just drank too much. I don't know the kid's name, but he came into the tavern and challenged Big Oar. They drank until the first one passed out, and the kid lost. They agreed that the loser had to pay for the drinks. The taverns closed and the kid didn't leave, so the boss told me to toss him out back." The man's eyes flashed with a look of greed for a moment.

"Aye, mind helping me out?" He asked.

"With?" Richard was curious. What could he possibly do to help this man? He wasn't even sure how he planned on helping himself.

"Can you reach into his pockets and grab that pouch? It has the rest of his money, I'll split it with you. How about it?" The man asked as he gave Richard a grin.

Richard looked at him and then at the unconscious body. In a normal situation, he would never do something like this. But this wasn't a normal situation, and Richard was piss-broke as far as he knew. His pants had no pockets, meaning it was unlikely he had any money. He also did not know if he had a home to go back to, so he couldn't give up an opportunity like this. But, there was something off here.

Pointing at the man, Richard looked at the slave man. "Why can't you do it?"

"You ask some strange questions..." The man told him. The reason was pretty obvious, and Richard should have known that. At least that is how the man saw it. Still, Richard was his only way to gain a bit of easy cash.

"You know we slaves can't go against our master's words. I was told to put his pouch back and dump here out here, nothing more. So, I'm not able to steal from him. Same can't be said about you, right?"

He is not allowed to go against his master's words? Sure, it sounded fair but was that how things worked? In history, slaves did a lot of stuff that went against what their owners wanted. So, couldn't that be applied here? Or was there something else at play here?

While Richard wanted to think about it more, he couldn't be bothered. His head wasn't in the right place at the moment.

Bending down, Richard reached into the unconscious man's pockets and found a small pouch. It was made of leather from the texture. There were two black strings tied around the pouch, and Richard undid them. He looked inside and found some coins. There had to have been more than fifty or sixty present.

"Madam just gave him forty bronze tales, and together with what has has..." The man started to count on his finger but shook his head. "I think I'll have enough to buy my freedom." He said happily.

"And how much does that cost?" Richard asked.

"I need five silver tales, and I have been saving up for a long time. So, this should be enough."

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"There's fifty-six coins inside," Richard said after he counted them quickly.

The man was surprised by this. It's only been a few seconds but Richard managed to count all the tales. It would take him a long time, but he'd never come up with fifty-six. Counting was hard, and knowing how to split the coins between them was even harder.

"So, that's twenty-five each of us, then three each, twenty-eight coins split between us. Sound good?" Richard asked as he began separating the coins into a pile.

Once more the man was surprised. Richard was able to do math too! Even faster than his owner could. And Roxanne was very good at math.

"Are you sure?" He asked with a little bit of skepticism.

"Yeah, want to count?" Richard asked him.

The man shook his head.

"No, I'm fine."

Richard took the pile of coins he moved out of the pouch and handed it to the man. He took it and put it in his own pocket, while Richard tied to pouch close and held on to it.

"Thanks! I should finish closing up now, I'll see you around." The man said as he opened the door to the tavern and walked back inside.

Richard didn't have a chance to say anything more, as the door quickly closed shut. He didn't even get the man's name. But maybe that was for the better.

With another glance at the man lying unconscious on the ground, Richard gave it a quick thought before he decided. He stripped the young man of his shirt so he could wear it himself.

He's already committed a crime, so he might as well commit another one.

After that, he began walking. He didn't know where he was headed, but he walked.

Where was he? Why was he here? Was there a way back home? Whose body was he in?

He never got to ship that sword or finish that book. He'd just chalk this up to some crazy dream if he had a few drinks in his system, but he didn't. He's been clean of that stuff for the better part of six years now.

There was no explanation as to why he was here. None at all. At least none that he could think of.

He didn't know how long he walked, but he was in a different area now. That was for sure.

Bang!!

His ears twitched.

Bang!

There was a sound coming from somewhere nearby.

Bang!

Richard knew that sound, he knew it all too well.

Following the sound of metal hitting metal Richard stumbled upon a short man wielding a giant blacksmiths hammer. The forge he was using was ancient-looking, and out in the open. There weren't many tools around, but Richard spotted a few he knew of.

Without knowing it, he began walking closer to the blacksmith working. His nerves calmed down a bit, and he was not concerned with anything. To him, this reminded him of home. Of the time and effort he put into his craft.

......

"Mr. Scott? Mr. Scott, are you home?" Anitta knocked on the door three times as she always did. There was no reply.

She checked the time, it was already eight in the morning. He should be up by now, drinking coffee as he always did.

Checking her pockets she found the spare key he lent her and opened the door. He did not like it when people randomly entered his home unannounced, but he'd get over it. Mr. Scott was a lonely man that just needed some company. That's why she visited him every weekend when she had time.

She did not have to, but he was like a grandfather to her. He used to help her grandmother out all the time and even babysat her mother. So although he wasn't actually family, they treated him like one.

Her grandmother passed away seven years ago, and her mother wasn't in the best health lately. So, here she was. Anitta wanted to make sure that Mr. Scott was taken care of, and she wanted his advice.

Peter just proposed to her last night, and she was excited about it. But, Peter was also the asshole that cheated on her two years ago. She should be coming to her mother with this, but Mr. Scott was always blunt with how he gave advice, so he'd tell it to her like it was. Besides, she was kind of talking to someone else on the side. Nothing serious, they were just friends and went out for one drink. But, she felt a connection there.

Was she wrong for this?

Gosh, she was already twenty-seven and still couldn't figure out life. What was she going to do with herself?

"Mr. Scott, I brought groceries. I know you were out of bacon, eggs, and oh, I got that herbal tea you like." Anitta shouted out as she walked to the kitchen where she figured he would be.

It was empty, the coffee maker wasn't even on. She found it odd, so she checked his bedroom.

As she was making her way there she found him asleep on the couch.

"Mr. Scott, I've been calling you. Why are you asleep here?" She asked as she approached him.

He wasn't covered up, and there was a book on the coffee table. It was the book she gave him last year for Christmas, she figured he wasn't going to read it. But it seems like he did and was. She tapped him on the shoulder.

"Mr. Scott, wake up." She said.

No reply.

"Mr. Scott?" Anitta shook him this time.

No response.

"Mr. Scott...?" Anitta checked to see if he was breathing.

He was not.