To be honest, calling it a village might be a stretch. It was more a hamlet than anything else. Only twelve houses made up the entire place. Plenty of drying racks were installed close to the houses, each filled with drying fish. The source of the smell he had smelt before he had seen the houses.
Like with the cabins, Edvard first made sure the hamlet was safe to approach. Taking out his coat and throwing it over his shoulders to hide his sword. He decided to approach by the well-trodden path. Hoping that doing so would show that he intended no harm.
There were no guards, nor watchmen. Only men and women tending the fields with some children helping and others playing in the grass fields.
Upon seeing him, everyone stopped what they were doing. The men taking their farming tools in hand and warily approaching Edvard. The women, instead, taking the children and gathering them in the center of the town.
'Why is everyone so on guard?' Edvard wondered; he did not look out of place with his clothing. Not after he cleaned himself. His clothes were now stained similar to that of the people here.
"Who are you?" A man with slight gray in his beard asked. He was by far the oldest in the crowd, and also the de facto leader. No one here had clean clothes, nor did it look like anyone took hygiene seriously.
"I'm Edvard, and I mean you no harm," Edvard replied while showing them his empty hands. Making sure to not lift them too far and keep his shortsword hidden behind his cloak.
"We don't get many travelers here. What's your business?" The same man asked, no one letting their farming equipment down.
"A few friends and I had thought of going into the forest for gold. I fear I am the only one to come out of it." Edvard explained, not at all bothered by the men's tools. While the men were all clearly stronger than the current him from years of hard fieldwork. Edvard knew that they had no idea how to use them as weapons.
Edvard had plenty of experience using anything to kill beasts, humans couldn't compare to what he had fought. While his mind thought of this, he felt it wrong, he did not wish to kill them. He would much rather talk it out.
A strange feeling after years of slaughter, that now felt more like a distant dream than something he truly lived through. However, the trauma would forever follow him.
"Watcha mean, and why's your accent so weird?" One of the other, younger men asked. His farming tool shaking in his hand, seemingly terrified at the prospect of fighting.
"I am not from here, like I said, we got attacked in the forest and I became lost. If not for the river I would have died, but... Where am I now?" Edvard replied, seeing him continuing to obey everyone gradually calmed down. Though they kept their 'weapons' pointed at Edvard.
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"Where are you from originally then?" The man with a foul-smelling breath asked.
"That isn't really important, I doubt I will ever be able to return. What kingdom is this?" Edvard replied, his voice containing true grief as this was a half-truth. Seeing the state of this hamlet, he felt his chances of returning to Earth becoming less and less.
Hearing his grief and sympathizing with it, everyone calmed down much more, finally, they all lowered their farming tools. "You're in Eskrat. They call it a holy kingdom, but we work our asses off and if beasts or monsters come, we are dead. Holy my ass! We are just a kingdom of slaves." The rough-looking elder spat as he said this.
"Uncle! You can't say that, if a noble or knight heard you they would behead you on the spot." One of the younger men quickly chastised the old man.
"And they can't do that already? Who would fight for my head? Bloody nobles just use us as slaves. It's why I moved here, our hamlet is too far and too small for them to care much about." The elder countered, causing the young ones in the crowd to want to argue.
They did not, as they could see all the elders' saddened looks upon this having been mentioned.
"Has this happened before?" Edvard asked as softly as he could.
"Every few years they would come and spread their 'glory'!" The elder spat, "They brainwash our young and then make up claims to lay with our daughters. They're no better than animals!"
Hearing this many of the younger ones wanted to jump into the defense of the great nobles. Who had shown them their exquisite skills with the sword and promised to take them in should they prove to be talented.
Again, they did not, because all of them had but been promised and not actually given a chance, yet.
These teenagers still dreamt of grasping that chance for glory.
"I am sorry to hear that, my I know your name?" Edvard replied, realizing that this world was most certainly not kind. He had hoped that human civilization would at least be past the barbaric medieval times. Yet, it seemed that this was likely similar to the dark ages.
His fear for Yawen grew, yet he knew he could not rush into things. He had to take his time to learn about this world and its civilization. All he could do was pray that she was safe and somehow able to survive.
"I'm Davor." The elder replied, with Edvard sharing his name in return again. Certain that most had likely forgotten it due to their concern and fear.
"So, what's your plan, Edvard?" The elder asked after a few seconds of silence.
"I don't know. I probably need to figure out what the situation is in Eskrat. Would you mind if I stayed in the village for a few weeks?"
"No problem at all. But we don't have free beds, and we won't feed you for nothing." Davor replied.
"That's fine, if you can give me a bow I'll manage," Edvard replied as Davor started showing him around. Their hamlet was basically a family living together. At first, it had been just one or two houses. But as the children grew old and found their partners, the place had grown.
As such, most everyone was closely related even though they would mostly marry with other nearby villages or hunting families.
Davor also went on to explain how they had yet to be drafted into a war, and that it was his biggest worry. Normally they were seen as too small, with just over forty people living here now. This was the largest their hamlet (Zaselak) had ever been and if it kept growing it was certain to enter the sight of the local lords.
"If you hate your kingdom so much, why don't you just leave?" Edvard asked after a while of conversing with Davor.
"Where would we go? Where are we commoners not treated as mere expendables? On top of that, this world isn't kind. When I first moved here the monsters would attack often. Back then death was normal, the young ones have grown soft…"