As I have learned, the man who allowed me into the settlement is the mayor. He says we are far North and that his town is property of the Ctalek (Tal-Ek) Kingdom. A curious name. I can tell their culture is vastly different than any Eastern or Western culture I know of. Makes sense. As per my question about dimensional magics, "I know of a cleric that practices inter-dimensional magic that resides in a town a bit South from here. Don’t know his name though."
"Thank you for answering my questions. Is there a place I can spend the night? It’s getting dark and I’d prefer not to travel without daylight." He tells me about an inn up the road, but I realize I have no money. I should have designed some sort of Essentia duplicator. As I leave his office, I look around the town. The architecture and culture appears to be medieval. I decide to take a walk to think of my next course of action. As I walk, I see people shrink away into their homes at the sight of me. Is my mask really that scary? Maybe it’s the golem following me? I walk down to the inn. No matter. What these people think of me is of little consequence. I decide that because I lack money, now will be a good time to test another spell focus I developed. I socket the focus into my gauntlet and walk inside. "Hello, how can I—"
I cast the spell directly at him. A pink bolt of bright energy shoots out and he looks dazed for a moment. "I already paid for a room. You will give me the keys and I will sleep here until morning." His pupils dilate when I say this, then return to normal. "Here are your keys, sir, enjoy your stay!" I feel a sense of accomplishment. This spell, which I have dubbed "Cognition Scrambler" disturbs the Cognitio (Mind, Brain) of the target, making them susceptible to suggestion. I walk to my room and station the golem outside of it for protection. Since I can’t sleep, I spend the rest of the night writing research notes about what I have seen up until this point.
----------------------------------------
Before I know it, the sun has risen. I must have lost track of time recording information in my notes. When I leave my room, the golem steps aside and follows me. When I walk downstairs, the innkeeper is nowhere to be seen. Must be asleep still. I leave the room keys on the desk and approach the door, only to find it’s locked. A perfect opportunity to test another spell. I socket the focus in the gauntlet and press my hand against the door. It abruptly disappears. The golem and I walk through, and shortly after the door reappears. Good to know the Tunnel focus works. I decide it’s time to leave for the town South of here.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
----------------------------------------
As I travel down the dirt path, I wonder how the Praetors are doing on their search. Suddenly, this question spawns another one: If I find the dimension I came from, can I see my family again? The thought greatly excites me. I probably shouldn’t. I would only bring trouble. Besides, the chances of finding the right rift are astronomically low. Lost in thought, I fail to notice the several men on horses approaching me from the front. I look up at the last second. Oh, sh—
I narrowly sidestep a spear destined for my head. Not that it would have done anything to me. The rest of the men stay in front of me as my assailant loops back around to join them. "By order of the High King of Ctalek, you are under arrest for the murder of a Royal Knight!" Ooooh. Yeah.
"I’m sure you’re only doing your jobs, and I don’t want to hurt you. That crazy bitch attacked me for no reason. I was acting in self-defense."
They clearly weren’t interested. "Surrender at once!" The front man yelled. He seemed to be the leader of the group. Seems they’ve made up their minds. I place my hand around the Primal Cutter on my hip and grip it. "Do not draw your weapon or we will attack with deadly force!" I gave you ample warning. My taint physiology allows me to draw the Primal Cutter faster than any of them can react. I chuck the spear at full force through the skull of the leader before he could shout his commands. He falls limp off his horse as the spear flies back towards my hand. The other horsemen’s faces contort with fear before they whimper, scream, and then retreat. Why is everyone here so quick to act? I only then notice that one of the would-be assailants has not fled, and is instead holding his ground.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" The man stands firm, unmoving. Impressive morale. The man hesitates, seemingly rethinking his plan. Just when I think he’s about to run, he asks, "What world do you herald from?"