ISMUND

Chewing on a fresh toothpick I start walking south-west.

Dad said to go here. It’s not particularly relevant anymore, but it’s a place where I can reorient myself and get some food. At least I don’t have to worry about the conditions on the walk. If I did, well, I don’t think I’d last long.

Trudging around for a while, as in, maybe a day or so, with some ice frozen into my hair I can finally see the gate. It’s large, wooden, and sturdy.

I start rummaging through my pack. looking for the coin Mum had brought, I hear my stomach growl and flush.

Man, am I ever hungry. Hopefully, they have some good food, otherwise, I’ll starve before I get anything done.

Upon reaching the door I rap on it, trying to get the guard's attention.

“Who goes there?” One of them asks, grizzled face looking down. “Just a traveller. Can I come in?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.

“You look suspicious, but fine. We’ll be keeping our eyes on you.” The same guard calls out.

Creak

Looking inside, I can tell that not much has changed visually. Most houses are still made of wood and all the roads are shoveled. After a while I noticed it.

The air feels wrong. I can’t put my finger on it but it doesn’t seem right.

> [The change you are noticing is the corrupted energy. Users have been using it in every-day life and so the air is full of it.]

That’s helpful, if also intrusive.

Taking the path to where the Inn was normally last time I was there, I find it still standing with a different name.

“Brook’s Bar. Hmm, well it sounds like it’ll have food.”

I walk in greeted by the sound of a rowdy crowd, the stale smell of alcohol and BO, and the sight of a bar in the middle of the room. I walk up to the woman manning the counter and look at the menu.

Thank goodness they’re using the same currency. That would’ve made things complicated. May as well get the soup with bread, it’s not too expensive and seems filling enough.

“Hey, could I get the soup of the day with some toast?” I ask nonchalantly.

“That’ll be 5 coppers. Would you like a complimentary drink with that?” She says with a monotone nasal, slowly blinking.

Well, somebody’s bored.

“Could I have some tea?” I ask.

The woman grunts and writes it down, “Take a seat at the smallest available table please, unless you're expecting company.”

After looking around for a second I find a table with a single seat and take it for my own.

May as well find out what’s left in the backpack.

I rummage around, careful to not let any of it slip out. Don’t want to meet somebody with greedy eyes.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

I found an extra set of clothes, although they seem a bit frozen, a knife, bandages, a blanket with a wool mat (also frozen), a tent assembled for two and of course the coin from earlier.

I could look in the box, but if it’s valuable it could draw some attention. I’ll look at it after I get a room.

I sit silently for the next while waiting for my soup.

Clank!

“You’re soups here, toast fell in by accident. Enjoy.” She waddles away swishing her skirt.

Too hungry to care about the soggy toast, I quickly scarf it down, glad for a warm meal.

“Hey, you big oaf! Your tea is right here. You don’t need to act like a hog.” she grumps to my surprise.

“Just give me the tea,” I say without looking up.

“Already did! Now hand me those dishes. I Don’t have all day like some people.” I quickly hand the dishes to the shouting maiden. “Kids these days.” I hear her say under her breath as she leaves.

Well, that was interesting. Note to self: don’t scarf down the food while she’s there and be quick and efficient like you’re in the military. Don’t want to draw too much attention.

I gather myself up and chug the tea as quickly as possible, only burning myself as much as necessary.

Now that I think about it, I should probably gather some information about the dungeons in the area. And since I’m going to check out how my village is doing before I check on anything that means that I won’t be as suspicious. ‘Where’s your dungeons’ ‘oh no! Our dungeons fueling our weird magic are gone, and that guy just asked about it! There’s a traitor AHHHH!’

I snort and walk over to the counter, where I find the same woman as earlier.

Oh boy. Well, it’ll be more interesting talking to her I guess. Maybe she’ll go on a rant and give me some more information.

“If you want to give a complaint put it in that box over there” She points over to a wooden box nailed to the wall filled with pieces of paper reading, ‘Complaints’ in fancy writing.

“No, actually it was pretty good. What I’m here for is some information.” I look her right in the eye.

“Ohhh, trying to butter me up now, eh? What is it? Make it quick.”

“Do you know where some dun-”

> [WARNING, people don’t refer to dungeons as dungeons anymore. They believe it’s too brash. They instead call them ‘gateways’]

-err, gateways are?” She seems to pick up on it but doesn’t comment.

“well of course we know where they are, you can see a map over there?” she points, “There’s five not too much to keep track of, no? Well, now I know for certain that you’ve been livin’ under a rock your whole life!” She starts laughing boisterously.

Interesting. Earlier, before I woke up, there was only one that people were working on destroying.

“Anyways, since I’ve lived under a rock. Could you tell me about how often people go over?” I ask with a frown.

“This boy’s got a high shame tolerance! Sure, I’ll tell you. You’ve given me something to laugh about!” She sucks in a breath, “After a funeral people will be brought over to the gateways so that the immigrants can use them to make more energy for us so that we can stay warm and eat. Not a high price if you ask me. But in winter where it’s really bad some people might just send some of the elders or a few kids with them. But we still end up with more people than we would’ve if we didn’t send them. That’s how life goes on boy-O! The immigrants saved us from dying from our lacklustre resources!” The woman exults.

“That’s some food for thought for this country bumpkin. Could I have a room?” I look down at myself, “And a bath as well?”

“Yesssir, I’m here to take your coin, now give it over.”

Clunk

“And here’s your key. Your tub should be ready in about 20 minutes.”

I take the key reading ‘10’, presumably for the room number. After walking up the stairs I peer to the left and see what I think is the bathing room. Looking right I find room 10 and make myself at home.

“Finally, I have a bed!” I hoot to myself once I shut myself in.

Now, where to start? Sounds like they’re doing human sacrifices. Earlier they mentioned that it uses energy, life sources, and blood as its main source of energy. People have made an alliance with them for resources. This is so wrong.

Snap!

I grab another toothpick and jam it in my mouth.

It is colder than it was before, and more snowy than it should be. Heat counts as energy, right? Could they be feeding off of the natural resources and heat to make people reliant on them?!

> [Analyzing query…]

>

> [Definite answer cannot be drawn. However, since The Fives rebellion, heat and life sources have decreased in the area. This is especially prevalent in the regions close to the dungeons]

That’s dirty.

Harrumphing, I hear a feminine voice from behind my door says, “Sir, your bath is ready. Your stall is number 9. There is a towel there already”

Lifting myself, I make sure that all of my things are put together and secure before I leave. After doing a once-over, I nod.

I’ll freshen up before I do anything else. I already have a general plan. Get supplies, check out my home, come back and destroy the dungeons and then get revenge when I’m powerful enough.