Sen nodding decisively, made up his mind.
Sen then went on to gather some vines, twining them together into a makeshift pouch, and fashioned a simple waterskin from a portion of the creature's tough hide. It wouldn't win any awards for craftsmanship, but it would serve its purpose well enough.
"Should've learned to sew in juvie," he muttered dryly as he secured the primitive contraptions to his hips.
Equipped with minimal provisions and a healthy dose of caution, Sen set forth on the trail of the enigmatic figures. He stayed to the shadows as best he could, blending with the alien flora to minimize detection.
Sen pressed onward through the underbrush, keeping low to the ground as he tracked the path taken by the strange humanoids. He paused periodically to scan for signs of movement, relying heavily on his heightened senses in the eerie quietness that blanketed this wild domain.
Time passed, the dual suns sinking steadily in their opposite arcs across the sky, their heat seeping through Sen’s tattered shirt as the trek continued.
As the suns dipped below the horizon, Sen found himself a suitable campsite, a small clearing surrounded by dense thickets that would provide a modicum of cover and protection.
He set to work gathering wood for a fire, his movements economical and purposeful. The flickering flames cast long shadows across the campsite as he settled in for a meager meal of jerky, a stark contrast to the succulent beast meat he had feasted upon previously.
Sen reclined against the rough bark of a towering alien tree, his eyes tracking the pinpricks of stars emerging in the purpling sky, as he pondered the odd twist fate had dealt him.
His heart thudded a bit harder in his chest as the enormity of it settled in—other sentient beings, technology, culture, society...
And he was going right to it, head on. Stupid, brave, foolish, or brilliant. Maybe all four at once.
After three days of trekking, Sen finally caught sight of what he had been tracking an encampment of tents and structures rising out of the dense vegetation in the distance.
The crude shelters and the torches blazing around them marked it as a temporary waypoint, likely serving as a base for operations beyond.
Sen narrowed his eyes, studying the scene carefully. Figures in military-like garb, bearing gleaming weapons and strange accouterments, bustled about the clearing in apparent preparation for the evening.
A campfire glowed invitingly, around which several individuals were clustered, engaged in lively discourse.
Sen quickly hunkered down behind a convenient cluster of rocks, watching the bustling activity below with keen interest. The scene unfolded before him, a complex tableau of order and activity in the midst of this savage wilderness.
He noted the disciplined movements of the armed individuals, the gleaming edges of their blades catching the fading sunlight. These were clearly a formidable group, well-armed and trained.
As his gaze fell upon the cluster around the central fire, Sen's curiosity was piqued.
Then with a deep breath, Sen steeled his nerves and began his careful approach. He moved with the precision of a stalking cat, his steps silent, his body low to the ground.
As he neared the periphery of the camp, he dropped into a crouch behind a large boulder, straining his ears to catch snippets of the conversation taking place around the central fire.
Sen's eyes widened in disbelief as he recognized the guttural cadence of the alien tongue, so eerily reminiscent of the dialect of the Yakuza gangsters he had once dealt with back on Earth.
His mind raced, trying to make sense of this impossible familiarity. How could he possibly hear a language from his own world in this alien realm?
Sen strained to make out specific words, to glean any meaning from the distant conversation. But the deep, resonant voice speaking in the foreign language remained maddeningly opaque.
Frustration gnawed at him as he realized the full extent of his linguistic handicap. Without the translator device he had relied upon in the past, he was utterly lost in this auditory sea.
Sen risked a glance around the side of the boulder, his eyes widening again in disbelief at the bizarre assortment of figures gathered around the campfire. The motley crew was unlike anything he had ever seen, a veritable United Nations of bizarre physiology.
The massive, hulking form of the humanoid lion creature dominated the scene, its mane of fur bristling as it let out a guttural laugh at something said. Beside it, the Japanese man gestured animatedly, his features sharp and angular. The reptilian lizardman lounged nonchalantly, its scaly skin shimmering in the firelight. And lastly, the human with fox ears and tails swished playfully, adding to the overall surreal spectacle.
The human fox leaned back, a mischievous glint in its eyes as it regaled the others with animated chatter.
Sen caught fragments of sentences, still mostly incomprehensible, but the fox's expressive gestures hinted at a grand scheme.
"...take over...that territory...show 'em what a kitsune can do! Hahaha!"
Its companions erupted in laughter and whooping cheers, raising tankards of a frothing, amber liquid in toasts.
"What about you, Kuma?" the lion rumbled, its deep voice cutting through the revelry. "Still brooding about that spat with the dragon?"
The bear-like figure called Kuma, who had been quietly nursing a drink, nodded solemnly. "That damn beast nearly took off my head..."
The group erupted into laughter again, the camaraderie palpable even across the distance.
"That damn beast nearly took off my head..."
He ducked back behind the boulder, his heart pounding. The urge to reveal himself, to seek answers and potentially allies, warred with the instinct to remain hidden, to avoid unnecessary risks.
Minutes ticked by as Sen wrestled with his decision, the sounds of drunken camaraderie drifting up from the campfire.
Just as Sen continued to contemplate his eyes then caught of small shining objects beneath their garments.
Sen's gaze now locked on the strange, glinting objects hanging around the necks of the bizarre ensemble. They seemed to pulse with an inner light, almost like the glowing crystals he had encountered on this alien world.
A sudden realization struck him like a thunderbolt. Could these objects be the key to communication? Some sort of advanced translator technology?
His heart raced with the possibilities. If he could get his hands on one of those devices, it might be the answer to bridging the linguistic barrier and understanding the true nature of these peculiar beings.
But the risks were immense. Approaching them openly would mean revealing his presence, his otherworldliness. And in a world where trust was a rare commodity, it could easily backfire.
Sen's eyes darted furtively around the camp, noting the heavy security detail patrolling the perimeter. Armed guards strode in disciplined formation, their weapons glinting menacingly in the firelight.
His hopes of a clean and quiet heist deflated rapidly. The chances of snatching one of the translator necklaces without drawing immediate and lethal attention were slim to none.
Just then, a guard rounded a nearby boulder, coming dangerously close to Sen's hiding spot. He froze, hardly daring to breathe, as the soldier passed mere inches away, oblivious to the interloper's presence.
The near miss sent Sen's heart pounding, beads of cold sweat trickling down his spine.
Realizing the futility of attempting a covert theft, silently cursed his luck. The camp was simply too well-guarded for a lone wolf like him to pull off a successful heist.
With a final, lingering glance at the tantalizing translator necklaces, he melted back into the shadows, retracing his steps to the trail leading away from the encampment.
As he walked, Sen's mind raced with the possibilities. If these beings were indeed a scouting party or advance guard for a larger settlement, following their trail might lead him to a town or city—somewhere he could hopefully find answers and supplies.
—————————————
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
Path Ahead
Sen emerged from the dense forest onto a wide, open road, the first such thoroughfare he had encountered since arriving on this alien world.
The path was clearly well-traveled, the packed dirt smoothed by countless feet and wheels. Sen scanned the area, noting the subtle signs of civilization—the occasional piece of litter, the neatly trimmed brush bordering the roadside, the distant sound of hooves and wheels.
This road was a lifeline, a conduit for trade and travel between communities. And if he was lucky, it might just lead him to the nearest settlement.
After two days of brisk travel along the increasingly well-maintained road, he crested a low rise and finally caught sight of his prize: a sprawling cityscape unfurling before him, its towers and pagoda roofs hinting at a distinctly Eastern flavor.
His pace quickened as the sight filled him with renewed determination. At last, after weeks of isolation in this strange land, he would have a chance to gather information more about this world.
As he drew closer to the city gates, he noticed the bustling activity around the entrance. Carriages laden with goods rumbled in and out of the fortified walls, their drivers exchanging words with the stern-faced guards standing watch.
He paused, surveying the scene with a calculating eye. The guards were imposing figures, clad in ornate armor that hinted at their importance and status within this society. Their halberds glinted menacingly in the sun, a clear warning to any who might attempt unauthorized entry.
He knew he couldn't simply stroll in unannounced, not looking like the disheveled, half-starved vagabond he appeared to be.
His gaze swept over the caravan of wagons and carts entering the city, their drivers chatting amiably with the guards as they passed through the gates. An idea began to take shape in his mind.
He approached one of the less imposing caravans, a small, weathered wagon drawn by a single plow horse. The driver, a grizzled old man with a salt-and-pepper beard, looked up as Sen approached, eyeing him warily.
"You need a ride into the city, stranger?" the man asked gruffly, his accent thick and unfamiliar.
Sen nodded, figuring that a simple affirmative would suffice regardless of the language barrier. The old man shrugged, seemingly unconcerned.
"Hop in then. It'll cost ya a silver piece."
Sen climbed into the back of the wagon, settling himself among the burlap sacks and crates.
As the wagon trundled towards the city gates, Sen mentally prepared himself for the inevitable encounter with the guards.
When they reached the entrance, the guard snapped a question at the old driver.
"Who's your passenger, Taro? Isn't he a bit rough-looking to be heading to the capital?"
Taro spat to the side and replied, "New blood, fresh from the villages. Probably looking for work and adventure."
Sen met the guard's suspicious glare head-on, his expression stoic and unyielding. He knew the man's words were beyond his comprehension, but sensed the underlying suspicion.
The guard scrutinized Sen closely, his eyes lingering on the strange attire and rough appearance. After a tense moment, he stepped aside.
"Very well, pass through," the guard grunted, waving them onward.
The wagon rolled through the arched gateway, and the sprawling city lay before them.
As the wagon rolled deeper into the city, Sen's eyes widened at the astonishing array of creatures and races mingling about the cobblestone streets. The sheer diversity and integration of fantastical beings was overwhelming to behold.
Hoofed lions, their muscular forms clad in simple tunics and aprons, hauled goods and worked the forges, their powerful hands wielding hammers and tongs. Their bestial nature was evident, yet tempered by an aura of honest labor and dedication.
Kitsune vendors, with their distinctive fox ears and tails, called out in melodic voices, hawking everything from glistening fruits to finely crafted trinkets.
In the marketplace, a dazzling array of creatures bargained and bantered, their conversations creating a symphony of strange tongues and accents. He watched as a human merchant gesticulated animatedly, apparently haggling with a towering, feathered humanoid whose wings were folded neatly at his back.
Sen observed the heated negotiation unfolding before him, noticing the eagle-faced humanoid shaking its head vehemently at the human's latest offer.
"Nyet, nyet!"the griffon exclaimed, its tone gruff and impatient."Not acceptable price, my friend! You try to rob old Zolgrath!"
Though the language was incomprehensible, Sen picked up on the clear body language and tone that indicated disagreement and dissatisfaction with the offered price.
The human merchant, undeterred, pressed on, pointing to various items spread out on the stall and gesturing to their quality. In response, Zolgrath crossed his muscular arms, his feathers ruffling in clear annoyance.
Zolgrath's piercing gaze flicked past the merchant, landing on the bedraggled newcomer in the back of the wagon. His brows furrowed, and he tilted his head slightly as if trying to place what sort of creature Sen was. Then, just as quickly, his attention snapped back to the haggling merchant, the negotiation continuing with the same fervor as before.
As the wagon rolled to a halt beside a grand, multi-level building with an ornate signboard reading "Crescent Moon Inn, Rooms Available" in kanji and runes etched into polished wood, the old man hopped out and turned to address his sole passenger.
"Here we be. Best stop for folk lookin' for shelter," said Taro with a conspiratorial wink. He beckoned to Sen with a bony finger."But a silver's a silver. Pay up and you're in."
Sen, while clueless to the specifics, grasped the general premise of their deal. He then extended his waterskin towards Taro.
Taro eyed the offering skeptically, wrinkling his nose at the weathered and stained hide.
"What in the nine realms be ye offerin', boyo? That thing looks older than me own boots!"
He circled the strange waterskin slowly, probing it with gnarled fingers as he inspected Sen with an equally appraising gaze."Tell yer what... you fetch me a coin, proper payment, then you got yersel' a room fer the night."
Sen shrugged and handed the odd waterskin to Taro, trusting the old timer's judgment. Taro grabbed it and shuffled towards the griffon merchant, Zolgrath, who was still haggling with the human merchant.
"Oi, Zolgrath!" Taro called out, holding up the peculiar container."Take a gander at this here trinket, eh? Might be sumfin' you'd fancy addin' to yer wares!"
Zolgrath turned, fixing his piercing gaze upon Taro and the waterskin. He snatched the item from Taro's hand, turning it over with a critical eye.
His expression remained inscrutable as he examined the craftsmanship, though one eyebrow arched slightly at some perceived imperfection. Turning back to Taro and Sen, he grunted, "What you asking?"
Taro, emboldened, piped up eagerly,
"I'm thinkin' about 5 gold coins'd do it justice, ye tall bird brain!" he declared with a gap-toothed grin.
Sen watched intently, barely comprehending the exchange yet picking up on the negotiation undertones.
Zolgrath let out a bark of laughter, loud enough that a few patrons nearby glanced over.
"Five gold coins?" he guffawed."You cannot be serious! Look at this..." He pointed at the battered and worn exterior.
"...tattered scrap you call a waterskin? Hardly worth the copper lining a pig's rectum!"
He tossed it back at Taro. "Two gold coins...and that's being far too generous for such rubbish!"
Taro caught the waterskin deftly, holding it up and inspecting it again with exaggerated care.
"Well now, I reckon a strapping lad like meself could fashion somethin' finer with what's left of 'is hide,"he proclaimed loudly, so that passersby could hear."Mebbe a fine pouch to hold yer coinpurse, eh?"
Then he leaned in closer to Zolgrath, lowering his voice."Tell ya what, Mr. Griffon...three coins, and I throw in a mighty fine leather pouch to boot!"
Zolgrath narrowed his eyes, considering the counteroffer. He circled the waterskin again, examining every inch of the weathered hide. Finally, he spoke, his voice a low rumble:
"Three and a half gold coins. Not a copper more. Take it or leave it, old man."
He extended a clawed hand expectantly, awaiting Taro's response and keeping a wary eye on the enigmatic stranger he assumed was the waterskin's true owner.
Taro grinned widely, displaying a mix of missing teeth and stained remnants. He turned to Sen with a wink.
"It's a deal then!"He then promptly held out a bony hand to Zolgrath."Coin first, goods after!"
Zolgrath regarded Taro suspiciously for a moment before reaching into a pouch at his belt. Coins clinked together as he counted out the agreed amount - three and a half gleaming gold pieces. Zolgrath reached out with a clawed hand, pressing the agreed upon gold coins into Taro's palm.
"Pleasure doing business, old timer,"the griffon merchant said dryly, tucking the waterskin under the counter.
Turning back to Sen, Zolgrath tilted his head quizzically."I presume this young whipper-snapper was the one who crafted... or rather, cobbled together this sorry excuse for a waterskin, aye?"
Before waiting for Sen to reply, the eagle-faced humanoid looked down at him intensely with his piercing amber eyes.
"No matter. Keep close and stay out of trouble,"Zolgrath advised, assuming Taro was his travelling companion.
"Capital cities attract all manner of rabble. Dangerous times in the empire. And the denizens are more unsociable than the beasts lurking beyond the mountain pass to the west."
Taro laughed, giving the money in his hand an admiring glance before shoving the coins into the pocket of his breeches. Then he jerked a thumb over his shoulder to Sen.
"This 'ere be our first stop afore the boy seeks out any real work or a bed, I reckon," he said, beckoning for Sen to follow."
As Taro the way into the dimly lit tavern, Sen's senses were assaulted by the cacophony of raucous laughter, clanking tankards, and sizzling meats. Taro bellied up to the bar, slapping a single gold coin down.
"Barmaid!" he bellowed over the din. "Two mugs o' yer finest ale and a pair o' mutton pies fer me and me... friend."
He jerked his thumb towards Sen, flashing the bartender a lewd grin. The woman, a comely kitsune with a tray piled high with frothy tankards, returned the grin with a coy smirk before hurrying off to fulfill his order.
Taro handed two shining gold coins across to Sen on the roughly hewn wooden table. He tucked the remaining gold coin and half coin securely into his breeches.
"There be yer share, laddie."
"Not bad fer a day's work, eh?" Taro remarked, downing half his mug of foamy ale in one hearty gulp.
"Them coins'll get you a decent room upstairs, a hot meal, and maybe even a warm bedmate if'n you know what I mean."He winked salaciously.
Sen stared blankly at the gold coins, then at Taro, not fully grasping the implications of his crude remarks. His gaze drifted around the noisy tavern, taking in the bizarre assortment of patrons.
Suddenly, Taro's eyes widened as he noticed something amiss. Or rather, something missing.
"Oy, lad... where's yer Echolume necklace?" he asked, leaning in closer.
"Every sensible traveler worth their salt wears one. Can't have ye wand'rin' about, lost and alone without a way to make yerself understood."
Taro's eyes flicked down to the Echolume pendant resting against his chest, then back up to meet Sen's stare. He considered a proposal, stroking his scraggly beard contemplatively. Leaning in conspiratorially, Taro pulled out a well-worn leather cord from under his tunic, revealing his own inscribed medallion glinting softly in the candlelight.
"How about THIS in trade, eh? Fair warning though..."Taro tapped the necklace significantly with one calloused finger."...yer best not to let this one outta yer sight, or ye may find yerself tongue-tied and penniless faster than a maid in a room fulla lusty sailors! Heh!"
His jovial laughter boomed through the tavern's general clamor as the tavern wench plunked down two brimming tankards and twin hearty meat pies with nary a word.
Sen considered Taro's offer briefly, not quite grasping the full significance but sensing opportunity. With a shrug of indifference, he slid a single gold coin across the rough-hewn tabletop towards Taro.
"That works."
Taro snatched the coin greedily, stuffing it into his pouch with a self-satisfied grunt. He draped his worn leather necklace around Sen's neck, letting the medallion rest against the other's collarbone.
"And here ye go, boyo!"the old timer announced, patting the newly gifted amulet into place.
Sen felt the unfamiliar weight of the charm settle over his shoulders as Taro raised his freshly refilled flagon in a mock salute.
"A toast then!"declared the grizzled elder,"To new beginnings and fortune untold, aye!"
Taro slammed the contents of his tankard within seconds, then promptly called out for another round as Sen nibbled at the still steaming pie on the table. The wolfsbane brew swiftly got the better of Taro's faculties, as indicated by his increasingly flushed visage and rambunctious merriment.
Through bloodshot eyes, he turned his attention to Sen as they sat, attempting a sober expression. Sen couldn't be certain if the glitch in Taro's face resulted from too much mead or not enough food. Nonetheless, his slurred words carried a measure of genuine concern.
"Ya'll want to pace yourself on th-that stuff," he stammered, stabbing a finger at Sen's beverage, "Build up tolerance like..."
Taro slumped drunkenly sideways across the table, snatching half of Sen's meat pie greedily mid-sentence as proof of his point before drifting into inebriated blathering.
With the last crumbs of the mutton pie vanished and the final dregs of ale drained, Sen hauled the heavily intoxicated Taro onto his shoulders.
Steering the inebriated navigator towards the stairs, Sen managed to convey a sense of urgency tinged with mild irritation."Let's get you to your room before you pass out entirely in the common room,"he remarked, more to himself than expecting an intelligible response.
With Taro now semi-conscious and slouched heavily on his shoulders, his arms wrapped around the old timer's back, Sen led them towards the bar. The kitsune bartender regarded them with an amused smirk, shaking her head slightly.
"The room is paid for, but the two of you should get some rest. That one looks like he won't last much longer."
She nodded towards Taro, whose eyes struggled to focus. Sen, however, understood her meaning perfectly now thanks to the traded necklace.
Leaning Taro heavily against the bar to keep the intoxicated man upright, Sen turned to the fox-haired bartender and inquired bluntly:
"Listen, love, you must've seen all sorts around here. Do you happen to know who this chap is?" He jerked his thumb at Taro, who swayed unsteadily on the spot.
The kitsune arched one brow, her pierced ears flicking as she considered the query. Her golden eyes appraised Taro's disheveled state before she replied dryly.
"Heh... well, he is not from around here. Least not originally."
Pausing a moment to grab a rag and wipe down the sticky bar top, she leaned in conspiratorially."Rumor has it the old coot was some kinda soldier. Mercenary maybe."
"Name's Taro Swiftfoot. Word is, he knows the backroads between kingdoms like the back of his wrinkled hand."
Shrugging nonchalantly, she glanced up at Sen."Though truth be told, I am not sure if his name or reputation means squat anymore, in his current condition."
The tavern wench shook her head, tossing her russet tresses.
Sen absorbed the information, filing it away in his mind. He eyed Taro warily, assessing his value and potential usefulness. Shifting the intoxicated man's weight on his shoulders, Sen thanked the barkeep curtly.
"Much obliged for the intel,"he muttered, steering Taro towards the staircase leading to the rooms above.
Sen roughly dumped the drunken Taro onto the bed in their assigned room, allowing the older man to collapse face-down amidst the blankets. Without bothering to remove his boots, Taro began to snore loudly almost immediately.
Sen stepped back and surveyed the dingy lodgings, taking note of the single window overlooking the cobblestone alleyway. He turned to lock the door, securing their temporary sanctuary.
Settling himself gingerly on the room's sole chair, Sen pondered the information gained from today's event.
As the night deepened, the muffled sounds of revelry from the tavern below gradually faded. Sen, exhausted from the day's events, found himself drifting into a restless slumber seated uncomfortably in the room's solitary chair.
Hazy visions of the strange cityscape and its denizens swam before his mind's eye as sleep claimed him. The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows on the walls, mirroring the chaos of his thoughts.
Even in sleep, his body remained coiled tight, ready to spring into action at the slightest provocation. Years of hard living and harder fighting had honed instincts that did not easily abandon him, even in unconsciousness.