The Wandering Inn_Volume 1, page 427
“A blind man and a half-Troll! Hah! I suppose that’s the only person who’d put up with something like that!”
The gigantic young woman glared at the adventurer.
“Go away. If you bother Laken, I’ll protect him. I’m his—”
She got no further, because the man interrupted her with a sneer.
“Protect him? You couldn’t protect a fly! I’ve seen real combat, not like some half-monster country bumpkin.”
The half-Troll said nothing, but there was an unfriendly look in her eye, and one of her hands clenched into a fist. A big fist. Ryoka eyed it and wondered what would happen if she hit the adventurer with it. His buddies looked a bit worried, but the man in front was drunk on bravado.
“Do you know how many Trolls I’ve killed with this sword? I could etch another notch right here, and no one would care.”
The man put a hand on his sword as he stepped forwards. The half-Troll girl flinched, but then to Ryoka’s surprise the young man moved. He took a step forwards and turned his head towards the adventurer. He was clearly angry, and when his mouth opened the word he spoke echoed across the square.
“Enough.”
Ryoka felt something press at her chest and had to force herself not to react. The adventurer stumbled back as if something physical had hit him. He put his hands on his sword with a snarl and the half-Troll girl raised a threatening fist. Before the conflict could escalate into bloodshed, Ryoka heard a shout and thumping of boots.
“What’s going on here!?”
The Watch had come, and remarkably quickly too. Ryoka wondered if it had to do with the half-Troll being there—and then corrected her thought. Of course it did. She watched as the two sides explained what had happened from their point of view.
Predictably, the adventurer claimed that the half-Troll had nearly knocked him down and he had simply reacted to the provocation. The blind young man and the half-Troll claimed the opposite. The young man—he was named Laken apparently—was explaining things to the Lieutenant, who didn’t seem too inclined to listen to his side of the case.
“She did nothing wrong. Durene was guiding me through the streets when this man decided to take objection to her existing.”
“So you say, sir. But this adventurer and his friends—a Silver-rank team—claim otherwise.”
The young man’s brows drew together as he snapped.
“I may be blind, but I know what I heard. And other people saw what happened too. Why not ask them? Or better yet, use a truth spell?”
“I hardly think that this situation calls for that.”
The man in charge dismissed the idea as if it were silly. He glanced at the adventurer, who looked pretty damn confident for someone who was probably lying, in Ryoka’s opinion. The lieutenant glared up at the half-Troll, who was looking chastened as well as upset.
“I’ll let it go with a warning—for both of you. Be on your way sir, and you, Miss—”
He hesitated, made a face, and then went on.
“—Cause no problems in my city while you’re here. If I hear of any more disturbances, there will be trouble.”
The adventurer took that as his cue to go and swaggered off. Ryoka glared at his back, but the young blind man was still irate.
“You have got to be kidding me. Is this really fair, officer? You and I both know that Durene did nothing wrong. Is it because she’s a half-Troll that you’re blaming her? Or do you simply not care about justice?”
The lieutenant did not like being told off. His cheeks reddened and he put a hand on his sword until he realized the blind man couldn’t see the motion.
“I apologize if you’ve been inconvenienced sir. Now, move along.”
“Come on Laken, let’s go.”
The half-Troll pulled gently at the young man’s shoulder. He clenched his fists, and then relaxed his hands. His fury seemed to wash away in an instant and he looked resigned, rather than upset. Laken nodded and patted Durene’s hand.
“Very well, I suppose this guardsman is just doing his job. As we say in my homeland, geh zur Hölle, du Drecksau. Good day, officer.”
The blind man spoke the words directly to the lieutenant, and then smiled at him as if what he’d said had been a compliment. It clearly wasn’t, but no one knew what he’d said. The lieutenant frowned, but didn’t make an issue of it.
But standing across the street, Ryoka Griffin’s eyes suddenly went wide. She felt as if her entire body had suddenly been shocked. She knew what had been said. But more importantly, she knew in what language that had been said. That was no foreign tongue from this world. That was German!
Ryoka’s heart beat rapidly in her chest as she saw the group of guardsmen stride away, leaving the duo behind. That had to be just a coincidence. Or was it? There weren’t any people who spoke German in this world, were there? Well, if everyone here spoke English, why not? Another country could have adopted other languages. And yet—Ryoka’s gaze fixed on the blind young man standing next to the upset half-Troll.
“Ivolethe. Why is that guy so special?”
The faerie’s voice was tiny in Ryoka’s ear.
“I see it on him. The mark of command. The old destiny of leaders.”
That made no sense to Ryoka. But she was distracted by the Troll-girl. Durene? She was bending and whispering to the young man, although her voice was quite audible to anyone listening. Ryoka glanced around. Not many people were. They were hurrying around and away from her, rather than stopping to listen.
“What did you say, Laken?”
He turned his heads towards her and Ryoka saw him smile. She heard him clearly whisper to the half-Troll as she stepped closer.
“I’ll tell you later, Durene. Let’s just get to that Runner’s Guild first, hm? We can see about adventurers later.”
Hesitantly, the half-Troll took the young man’s hand. She cast around, and then began to set off through the street, easily clearing a path for him to walk by her. Ryoka hesitated.
She could ignore that and go to the enchanter. She couldn’t believe she’d find someone else from her world right here, just like that.
And yet—Ryoka glanced down at her belt pouch. Ivolethe had poked her head out, and she was chewing the last bit of meat. And her eyes were fixed on Laken. The Frost Faerie glanced up at Ryoka, and then away.
Coincidence? Or fate? Was she being led, or was this all some huge chance event? Ryoka didn’t know. But as the half-Troll and blind young man walked through the crowds, Ryoka slowly walked after them.
3.36
Day 49
My name is Laken Godart. I am blind. Also, I’m trapped in another world where reality seems to conform to the rules of some kind of game.
I could be a victim of some kind of elaborate prank or test, or a social experiment. I could see myself being an easy target for some kind of shady government project—if of course I’m not just crazy.
Right now, I’m not ruling out any options. The reason why I ended up in this world could be anything as simple as an alien abduction gone wrong to genuine magic. I’m leaning on the magic side, myself.
This place is just too…real. Too real, and I want to believe in it. In the short month and a half since I’ve been here, I gained sight. Of a kind, yes, but sight nevertheless. I found someone I loved, and I found something to fight for.
But I won’t forget to think about what I do. I’m no hero with a sword. I’m fairly certain I’d hurt myself just trying to pick one up. I can’t be a warrior.
But I can be smart. I can choose what I want to do and pick my battles, if there are any in the future. I have friends. I have a class.
I am an [Emperor], and I have responsibilities. That, more than anything, informs how I act. Even now, I’ve travelled to this place, this city, for the people under my protection.
“It really is a big city, isn’t it, Durene?”
I say that out loud and feel Durene laughing nervously through our connected hands. I can tell she’s next to me. I may be blind, but I have my other senses. Here is what I know. I’m holding Durene’s hand. Her palm is callused—rough. Almost like a shark’s skin? I touched one once at an aquarium—a small, non-threatening shark or so I was told. Durene’s skin is somewhat like that.
Her hand is warm. On this cold, brisk day, her hand is warm. And I can hear her every step. But I can also hear the voices.
Oh—the voices. I’ve been in huge cities before, heard cars passing by, honking, shouting, but there’s just something about a mass of people that seems large to me. Maybe it’s because I know each person has to be out there, each one an individual moving and talking and thinking on their own.
A hundred voices. A thousand, some shouting, others just talking as they pass by me and Durene. More still simply walk, and it’s that movement which really tells me that I’m in a city.
I can smell—dirt and stone. And sweat, musty odors coming off of winter clothing probably. But more strongly through the air, baked food. Hot tangy scents wafting towards me and making me hungry. Someone’s cooking food over to the left, and the wind’s blowing it towards me. Not a meat—something else?
They’re not the only ones. There are more food vendors all about. Smell, hearing—I’m being overwhelmed on both fronts by the sheer input.
However, I am used to it. I know better than to panic, and it’s hardly like I’m incapable of moving about. I let Durene lead me through the city at a good pace. I just wish—
I wish I could see all of this. Sound and smell only get me so far. But from what Durene tells me, this city is like nothing in my past world.
“Lizard people? Really, Durene?”
“They’re called Drakes, I think. I’ve never seen one before. Um, I think they live far to the south of here.”
“Amazing. Drakes. Draco. Are they related to Dragons, by any chance?”
“I don’t know? They um, have scales. And long tails. Some of them have green scales, others have red or blue or—that one’s yellow.”
Durene moves as if to point and stops herself. I nod to myself as we walk on. I’m trying to imagine what these creatures—these people might be like. But I don’t think in terms of sight, naturally. I have a rough image in my head, but I would love to talk to one of these Drakes, shake their…hand?
“Do they have hands?”
“Something like that. It uh, it’s more like claws. They look sharp.”
Claw hands. I try to fit that in and reconsider shaking hands. But if I could touch one—
And how would I do that? I’m assuming these other species have the same taboos and social norms—at least broadly—that Humans do. Durene didn’t think it was too strange for a city to have Drakes in it, for all she’s never seen one.
Maybe if I got to know one. Naturally I can’t just stop someone on the street—well, I could, but I have more pressing matters.
I am in this city for a reason. I speak to Durene, feeling her guiding me left to avoid something or someone.
“Would you say we’re close to that plaza you saw now?”
“I think so!”
She sounds excited and worried by turns. Excited, and overwhelmed by her first glimpse of a city, as I suppose anyone would be. I have to remember Durene’s never even left her village. This must be overwhelming for her. I have to keep the cool head.
And yet, I can’t help but feel like Durene’s the one who’ll be most useful in a pinch. She proved that when she stood up to those adventurers. All I could do was raise my voice and be useless.
Those adventurers…I sigh as I walk with Durene towards the plaza.
Bastards. Ditto for that lieutenant. But the insight into this city was helpful. There’s corruption here, or at least, casual racism against one type of species. Ironic, that. I guess in a city with countless races joining hands—or claws—there has to be some group that gets pushed out.
I have to understand the world around me to interact with it. That’s why Durene and I have been walking through the city this last hour, taking it in, finding the measure of it. Better that than rush off and make mistakes. And it was a very pleasant walk too—Durene described so many odd sights for me. And yet, I guess you step in dog shit at least once on the best of strolls.
“Ah, I can hear the adventurers shouting now.”
Yes, in my ears I can now pick out a different set of shouts, this one growing louder as Durene and I walk forwards. Adventurers.
“…the Storm Raiders will sell our axes to anyone in need of a strong arm! Make us an offer!”
“—the best, the mightiest! Our shields will block spell and fang alike! The Ironshield Vanguard!”
“We’re a group of [Soldiers] who fought in the Yelten-Grimmor conflict! We’ve over fifty kills between us! You want protection, turn to us!”
Ah, adventurers. Durene leads me forwards, and I can just tell she’s stopping to stare around.
“Do you see Gamel around?”
“No.”
Durene sounds worried, although she shouldn’t be. I can feel her shift—is she standing on her tiptoes? I imagine she would be able to see practically everyone in the plaza. Even these ‘Gnolls’ don’t sound as tall as she is.
“I don’t see him, Laken. Should I call out, do you think? Or—”
I squeeze her hand gently, reassuring her.
“Don’t worry, Durene. It was just a thought. I imagine he’s off in some other square. We did say we’d meet at midday. Correct me if I’m wrong, but we’ve a little bit of time before them.”
“Yeah. You did say—okay.”
“Let’s take a seat—if one’s available. I could use a few seconds to rest, and I’d like to listen to what all these people are shouting. You can describe them for me.”
“Okay.”
We make it a few more steps into the plaza, and then I feel Durene slow. She bends towards me and whispers something in my ear.
“Laken, I think that girl is still following us!”
I pause for only a microsecond, but then move forwards. Durene is stopped.
“I see. Keep walking, Durene. Don’t look back at her—or if you do, just glance past her, as if you haven’t seen her.”
“Okay, Laken. But what does she want?”
“You’re sure she’s following us and not going somewhere else?”
“I’m sure! We practically walked in a circle, and I keep seeing her!”
“Describe her for me again.”
Durene pauses. I can hear the nervousness in her voice when she speaks again.
“Um. Tall. Taller than you, Laken. A few inches taller? She’s…got black hair, darkish skin—I’ve never seen someone who looks like that. Is she a foreigner? Uh—she’s uh—beautiful.”
“Beautiful?”
It’s an alien word to me. Beautiful is a word I associate with a voice, not with faces or appearance. But Durene’s voice is filled with a longing that tells me all I need to know.
“She’s beautiful. Sort of scary-looking, but beautiful. And—she looks like a Runner.”
“Hm.”
Durene spotted the girl following us a few blocks back. She pointed her out to me—well, described her to me—as one of the oddities of the city. A foreigner, someone not native to this continent.
It’s a…hard thing for me to think of. I know there are ethnicities in my world, of course. Nationality, race, gender…that’s easy to understand. But skin color? I don’t know what the color blue is supposed to look like.
Apparently, the folk of Riverfarm and this continent look predominantly like the people of my home continent, Europe. That is to say, mostly fair-skinned. This girl isn’t. She could be black or Asian or Latino—Durene’s descriptions don’t help me think of her in that way. She’s just clearly a foreigner, and one who stands out in this multi-species environment. No—more so because she stands out among her own kind, Humans.
And she’s following us. What does that mean? I frown as Durene worries next to me.
“Let’s get to a seat, and you can tell me if she stays in the area. If she doesn’t—well, we’ll know then.”
“Got it.”
Durene’s palm is slightly sweaty in my hand. Or is it mine? Because I hate to imagine it, but this could be an issue.
Why would someone follow us? A thousand reasons come to mind. They might be a prejudiced asshole like the adventurers. Or they might be interested in Durene. Or maybe it’s something to do with me?
I’m in a gaming world. Is this just a random event? Is this a scripted NPC? I’m sure this isn’t that kind of game, but why else would someone follow us? Is she aware of Riverfarm’s plight? Is she simply curious about an interspecies couple?
I don’t know. But I think. That’s what I can do in this world. Think. Think, and try to understand. Who is this young woman? What does she want?
And what should I do about it?
—-
Ryoka Griffin gritted her teeth as she saw the half-Troll’s head turn. She slowed, but the tall girl’s head found her.
“She can’t have spotted me. She can’t.”
Ryoka muttered under her breath as the girl named Durene seemed to glance at her, and then hurriedly look past. It was the third time she’d done so in as many minutes. It made Ryoka worried.
And annoyed, because Ryoka really didn’t want to think she’d been spotted by a Troll. Half-Troll. Whatever. That would be embarrassing, and yet—
“She saw me. Damn, damn, damn…”
In writing, it sounded easy. Follow a blind guy being led around by a half-Troll. How hard could that be? It was probably wrong to think, but Ryoka had the impression that the half-Troll girl wasn’t exactly the fastest brick on the block. She seemed simple, somewhat timid, and gentle. A giant, in short, easy to follow without being seen while Ryoka listened to what the two were doing.
But the Troll—Durene was her name, wasn’t it?—kept looking around. Ryoka felt the half-Troll girl’s eyes pause on her again and tried to meld with a group of laughing Drakes. But the problem was that becoming one with the crowd only worked if the crowd was the same species as you were. And for all her varied interests over the years, Ryoka had never tried espionage. To be more accurate, she’d never tried following someone who kept pausing every few minutes to stare about.
