After two hours, Brian was on his third loop of the Garden State soundtrack. He desperately wished he had not become so reliant on streaming apps over the last few years.
Brian was making much better time with the wonderful dirt road beneath him than through the Temu Windows hills. He still had yet to see anything resembling civilization or humanity outside of the clearly not natural road that carried him onwards. Surrounding him was more patchwork grass and dirt with shrubs and bushes speckling the landscape.
His gas gauge was no longer hovering comfortably past full. Wherever he was, that was going to be an issue at some point. A reset of the odometer cemented an internal agreement that he’d stop and do an inventory of his supplies if help wasn’t in sight after another 25 miles.
“You’re doing great, Daisy. I don’t think other RVs would be nearly as calm after developing healing powers.”
Brian had always quipped to Daisy on occasion, for no other reason than to fend off the loneliness on longer trips. The boxes giving her, possibly vicariously through him, magical powers made him lean a bit more towards giving her more praise.
At some point, he would be getting fantastically drunk to try and process what insanity he had found himself in, but there was driving to do and he wasn’t confident he could put the genie back in the bottle. There were two cases of awful beer in his rear storage that he would not be opening until he was somewhere resembling safety. The slightly nicer local stuff in the fridge was fair game.
He also found himself much more upset that he had chosen not to buy a firearm for self-protection when he had the chance. At the time it had been the right call as the risk outweighed the reward on a personal level, but he had a much more potentially external threat to worry about now.
Defense implied attack.
He hadn’t even seen any wildlife since whatever happened happened, which was weirder in itself the more he thought about it. Shouldn’t there at least be a bird or two?
Brian’s thoughts were interrupted as at the limit of his sight, something unnatural slowly came into view.
Walls. Wooden walls.
They were too far to tell how high, but who cares!
“Daisy! It’s people!”
He chose to focus on the hopeful outcome rather than addressing that it could just as easily be an abandoned fort or outpost. Manmade was manmade. Even if there weren’t people here, it meant people had to be somewhere.
The music finally went silent, he needed to focus as he picked up speed. Fifteen minutes later he was approaching the walls and he could see some moving figures patrolling it.
“DAISY! IT’S PEOPLE!”
Sadly, those people also seemed to be aware of Brian’s presence and were pointing bows and sticks at him.
His foot eased onto the brake and brought him to a slow crawl as he moved towards what he assumed was an entrance gate. He made a wide U-turn that brought the driver’s side around to the gate, looking up at the presumably guards as he rolled down his window.
“Uh, hello?” Brian shouted up, “Can you tell me where this is?”
One of the figures not aiming a weapon at him, a balding middle-aged man in a mix of renaissance fair armor shouted back tiredly, “Identify yourself! You stand at the gates of Lowstead, an outpost town under the lordship of Briar’s End in the barony of Thornhold.”
That was fair, and a lot to unpack in a situation where he felt he should respond quickly.
“Um… I’m Brian Turner? I’m a lost traveler?” He needed to stop adding inflection to everything he said.
“Are you here on behalf of a noble or other interest?” There was a bit more apprehension in his tone now.
“No. Just lost! I was in those hills for hours!”
That got a reaction from the man.
“You were traveling the Deadlands?” the guard asked surprised. “How did your vehicle navigate them without a draft beast?”
“Not intentionally! Uh, skill?”
The guard conferred with someone unseen behind him.
“You may bring your vehicle inside the gate. Do not progress further.” Even Brian could tell there was an implied threat hanging at the end of the statement.
The heavy wooden gate slowly dragged open and Brian crept Daisy inside, unsure what he was getting into. He was more sure than ever that this wasn’t New Zealand. The accent of the guard was easily understandable and at the same time completely unfamiliar. It wasn’t as out of place as the bad trees, but it had a similar flavor. He’d met enough people and seen enough online content that he felt he had heard most English-language accents.
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Once he made sure Daisy had cleared the gate, he kept her in drive but held his foot on the brake. This was weird and the guard had made references to lordships and baronies. And the armor. And the town with wooden walls.
Brian looked around now that he was inside the walls. He couldn’t help but think of the big white books in elementary school that explained about towns in the Middle Ages—or the Titanic.
Guards were beginning to circle me and Daisy, he saw the middle-aged guard approaching from a nearby staircase to the ramparts.
“Hi again! I’m sorry for being a bother. Thank you for letting me in.” Brian fell back to one of his mainstay strategies of apologetic deference. He reached his hand out offering a handshake. That provoked the guards to move their hands closer to their weapons. The older man continued his approach, stopping out of range, and stared at my hand with narrowed eyes.
“What are you doing? Is this a threat, Brian Turner?” the guard asked, confused.
“H-handshake. Shake hands and introduce ourselves, show that we don’t have any weapons?”
“A ‘handshake’ you say?” He sounded tired and skeptical. “We don’t have such customs here, and many skills work fine with or without deliberate action. If you come in peace, lower your hand and keep it visible.”
Brian did as he was told as he rested his hands on the window edge and the tension bled away from most of the guards, though most were still eyeing Daisy with either wonder or concern.
The older man slowly took in details of both Brian and Dazy, trying to figure out some puzzle. Eventually, he had seen enough as his brow furrowed and he spoke again.
“I’m Day Captain Fletcher, Brian Turner. That’s no ordinary carriage you’re riding and I’d like to know what trouble you’re bringing to our outpost. Powerful figures have very few reasons to visit us here. Curiously, my threat assessment skill is rating you very low despite what I assume are several significant and synergetic combinations attached to your anchor despite you being at foundation.”
Fletcher’s eyes had not left Brian’s during that spiel and they continued to bore into him as he processed a number of questions that stemmed from the man’s statement.
“Uh, I’m not exactly sure how to answer that, sir. Daisy,” Brian patted her door, “has a few modifications but nothing extreme. I don’t think I’m bringing any trouble as you’re the first signs of civilization I’ve seen all day. I don’t think I’m powerful and I think I only have one skill. Also, what do you mean by anchor and foundation?”
The day captain’s gaze took on a more confused tint as he listened to Brian.
“You use unspecific language quite frequently, Brian Turner. Are you using specific language or any sort of deception skill to avoid telling me the truth? Respond with ‘yes’ or ‘no’ only.”
“N-No, sir!” Brian quickly stammered out
The captain’s shoulders slumped as he realized that his day just got much more complicated.
“Is there room in your carriage for us to speak privately?”
…
After a brief tour, Brian found himself across the kitchenette table from Day Captain Fletcher—two average beers and a poor charcuterie of Triscuits and pre-sliced cheddar.
“Brian Turner.” Fletcher sighed. “The gaps in your education, noble or not, are stunning to the point of nonsense.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Even in those two words, you display your ignorance of information that all but the smallest of villages would teach.”
The captain took a long drink from his beer, seeming unused to drinking from a can.
“That leaves me with two possible educations, each stupid and unlikely. That you are some sort of spoiled noble that was sent off into the world unaccompanied with an artificed carriage unlike any I’ve seen or heard of before.”
He paused, looking at Brian for any sort of response or clue. Brian took a swig from his own drink.
“Or that you are not. from. here.”
Brian flinched at that and Fletcher seemed relieved. The captain then made eye contact with one of the guards outside of Daisy and used a series of hand signs that Brian didn’t understand. A few moments later there was a knock on the door. The captain rose to open it and retrieved a small book that he returned to the table with.
“One moment, please.”
Brian obliged and finished his can quickly, along with some crackers and cheese.
As he stress ate, the captain put down the book.
“Based on your actions so far, I’m going to operate under the assumption that my statement was true in a way that you understand. I have a lie detection skill and I need you to respond to my next statements with ‘yes’ or ‘no.’”
Brian nodded anxiously, desperately unsure how much danger he was in at the moment.
“You feel that you are in a circumstance that is confusing and unfamiliar.”
“Yes.”
“You have seen things that you have not seen before.”
“Yes.”
“You are unable to recall how you came to be here.”
“Yes.”
“Abyss take me.” Fletcher rubbed his brow. “You just caused so much more paperwork. You’re going to owe me more of these.” He shook his can at Brian.
Brian felt like he had made a massive mistake and wanted nothing more than to fade into the background.
You have unlocked your [Crown] node. (5/7 nodes remaining)
You have imprinted the concept of [Ordinary] in your crown node.
You have gained the ability: [Don’t Mind Me] - Decreases the likelihood for Daisy and her inhabitants to be noticed or seen as a threat.
Suddenly, a series of shrill whistles could be heard from outside and Fletcher had an arrow inches from Brian’s face before he had seen the man move, the captain’s beer can hit the table a moment later, spilling out onto the tabletop.