The caravan formed up. Sixteen people were on cart-pulling duty, and twelve hunters were present. The journey, however, proves to be insanely boring. Marching at an incredibly slow pace, looking at surroundings with little to nothing in them, only bare fields of grass as much of this world seems to be covered in. The food served is some of the preserved stuff. I indulge in it in order to not raise suspicion, but the only thing served is incredibly chewy and salty meat. Some people soak it in their water ration, but I at least want my water to be nice and refreshing. I end up stealthily putting it away in my own backpack, instead of digesting it.

Idle chatter seems fine for dispersing the boredom at first, but not three days have passed before you start hearing the same topics again and again, mostly what the latest rumors were at the time of departure. Being with merchants, it is mostly related to the price of goods.

Apparently, the magical academy has recently shown promise in developing new talismans to preserve food. If this is true, depending on the difficulty of manufacture, salt prices will heavily drop. Transporting salt from the few places rich in it to the rest of the world seems to have been thought as the one constant in a merchant’s life, so many seem scared of it.

Then, there are mention of a new berry, previously having been thought useless due to its horrid taste, was developed by an alchemist for a potion where one can go days without sleep, but if one relies on it too much, they will die.

Another of how the capital has once again expanded their quotas for food import, as an incredible number of people have moved there and they are increasingly having trouble feeding everyone. I wonder what all these people do in the capital, if they can’t hunt in the dungeon for food, but upon asking, the answers are pretty nebulous. Many young people apparently seek fortune and fame in the capital, hoping to work under the leader of humanity, or the hero, getting recognized and getting access to all the riches they dreamt of.

Apparently, most of them end up as beggars or day-laborers. Sounds crushing.

Such stories continue, many of them on a loop every few days. On account of my boredom, I offered to pull a carriage, but I was told to do my job, and they will do their own.

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I found myself hoping for some bandit attack soon, but all that cross our paths are some small monsters that bother us, probably from all the abandoned dungeons around here.

The most interesting thing is when another caravan crosses our path, and we share rumors and information, injecting a few fresh ones into the cycle of boredom and hearing people’s take on it.

Each day passes with me feeling more and more frustrated at the lack of things to do. I vehemently regret ever taking this job. The only caveat is that the temperature is getting better and better, ending up around the comfortable level I am used to.

And such dissatisfaction grows ever stronger, until, one day the capital appears in our sights.

Part of me is disappointed, I invested all this time and boredom, ending up with nothing to really show for it. I didn’t get to help people, and my salary is a measly 5 asti, on account of part of the cost being considered the food and water for making the long trip to the capital.

I gaze upon the new city, as we approach it.

It has a unique feature I haven’t seen from any city so far. There are tall walls, as with any other large city, but in addition, there are a myriad of shoddy houses outside those walls. I see a lot of very thin, unkempt people among them, many sitting still and only the children running around. Everyone is poorly clothed.

The houses often look crooked, with thin walls, as if the slightest gust of wind could knock them down, not there is any weather in this world. Many have a single piece of cloth acting as a door and I see no windows.

As our caravan approaches the gates, dozens of them start swarming around us. The other hunters move to turn them back with kicks, shoves and threats, acting as if this is some kind of normal procedure, but some beg, telling sad stories for their misfortune. Others, especially kids, seem to aim for the carts, trying to steal something. Most of the hunters and merchants don’t hide that they are absolutely disgusted by this lot.

I personally take pity, but do not act. I have the notion that most people in such unfortunate conditions are not there by choice, but rather circumstance, but on the other hand, they are clearly bothering strangers and some even trying to steal from them. I grab a kid trying to sneak at a cart and put him down further away, but as I do, he immediately bolts for the cart again.

I guess I can’t fault the guards too much for being so rough with them, since I feel like I did nothing. I cannot, however find it in myself to take part in the rough treatment.

Eventually we reach guards at the gate, where the poor do not dare approach. Maybe they have experienced something horrible in the past for them to act so scared of coming closer to here.

The guards swiftly inspect goods and identifications, before letting us pass through to the capital. Finally.