Bog Standard Isekai

Meredydd’s beautiful enchanted lance was still leaning against Cowl’s oversized backpack on the ground with the other weapons. Brin could only assume that whatever reason he had to leave was something about money, so why wouldn’t he take his most valuable possession?

Cid clinked his fingernails against the steel of his helmet, the sign of someone stressed who wanted to run his fingers through his hair and couldn’t. He dropped his hand and said, “Very well. I’ll go fetch him. Anwir, do you think you can track him?”

“Uh…” said Anwir.

“He can’t, not if he went to the city,” said Brin. He knew that from the [Hunters] in Hammon’s Bog. Unless you were Lurilan, [Tracking] completely failed in a busy street.

“I know my way around Fortmouth. I’m from here, too,” said Brych. “And Meredydd told me he’s from Sickside. If he went home, I can find him.”

Brin kept forgetting that most of these guys were locals here in Prinnash. He hadn’t actually asked any of them where they were from more specifically, mostly because none of the names would mean anything to him.

“What’s Sickside?” asked Cid.

“It’s the neighborhood closest to the river bordering Arcaena. Everyone gets sick there more often,” said Brych.

Cid sniffed, like he was already suffering from a runny nose in anticipation. “Very well. You and I will enter Fortmouth. The rest of you will find a suitable place to make camp.”

“Take Marksi with you. He’s good at finding people,” said Brin. Marksi had a nose much better than a human’s, but he wasn’t exactly a bloodhound. More important was the fact that he could follow them with illusions and then use Silent Voice to tell Marksi if he saw anything.

“Very well. Come along, then,” said Cid. He looked uncomfortable talking directly to the dragonling, probably wondering how much Marksi understood. He patted his thigh, the way you would to call a dog over.

Marksi chirped in happiness on getting to join the adventure and scampered over. He bobbed up and down like he wanted to jump up on Cid’s horse with him, but didn’t know if that was allowed.

“Um… I… um…” said Cid.

“Oh, hop up here!” said Brych. “I’ve always wanted to do this!”

Marksi switched targets and easily leapt up onto the back of Brych’s horse, careful to grab the leather of the saddle and not scratch Faith’s hide. He didn’t stop there, and kept climbing up until he was perched on Brych’s shoulders. He looked a little odd up there; Brych was shorter than even Brin, though he was a bit stockier, and Marksi was about like a mid-sized dog with a long tail. Honestly, Brin probably looked a little strange with Marksi on his shoulders these days as well, but with high Strength the weight wasn’t really an issue. He felt a little nostalgia for the days when Marksi had fit easily into the hood of his jacket.

Cid and Brych rode towards the city, and Brin led the rest of them back towards the stone outcropping. Surprisingly, there were no complaints. In the shadow of Meredydd’s desertion, no one else wanted to stick their heads up as being insubordinate.

They stopped, watered the horses with skins from Cowl’s backpack, but Brin didn’t order them to make camp yet, not until he had a better idea of whether or not they’d really be here all day. ȒàƝօ₿Εs

He sat down under a boulder in the shade, and then pulled his Fire Jelly Core from a pocket in his coat; one nice thing about not being entirely encased in steel was that he could still use pockets.

“I’m going to tinker with this artifact,” Brin called to the men. “If I tell you that you can all do as you wish today, so long as you do not wander too far from camp, can I trust that no one will do anything idiotic? No one else, I mean.”

“Yes, sir,” said Hedrek.

“You can, sir,” said Govannon.

Brin narrowed his eyes. “Good.”

He created a small army of directed threads running Invisible Eyes and sent them all in the direction of Fortmouth.

The Fire Jelly Core was mostly an excuse for why he’d be sitting here doing nothing for hours, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t do anything with it. It seemed to be able to suck up endless amounts of Light magic; he hadn’t found the limit. How strong would the laser attack be if he charged it for a whole day, or two days? It had quite a bit of Mana in it already from other odd times that he’d thought to charge it.

He started feeding it Mana and then focused on his Invisible Eyes. In addition to being able to pull up a screen for him to watch, his Task Manager now made audio feeds so he could listen instead of reading transcribed text.

The beginning part of Cid and Brych’s journey wasn’t very exciting. Brych asked, “So what do you think he’s doing?”

“I fear I could not hazard a guess,” said Cid.

“What will you do when you find him?”

“I’ll need to decide that when I know why he left, and not before.”

Perhaps sensing that Cid wasn’t in the mood to talk, Brych turned his attention to Marksi. “You know, Brin talks to you like you understand him, but I’m not so sure,” said Brych.

Marksi didn’t respond.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Marksi shook his head.

Brin snorted a laugh. Marksi understood, he just thought that talking was a waste of time so he’d prefer to go without. You didn’t need speech to hunt forest creatures, lie in sunbeams coming through the window, or snatch the best bite of meat off someone's plate. So what good really was it? Marksi could communicate when he was in need of scritches perfectly well without it.

“Does… does that mean he does understand me?” Brych asked, looking at Cid.

Cid said, “I doubt it. I’ve heard that only very ancient dragons understand human speech.”

Marksi nodded in agreement.

“But see? See what he did there?” asked Brych.

“It’s like the horses at the carnivals. You know when [Beast Masters] bring them out and claim they have human intelligence? The horses are really only good at picking up on their master’s emotions, so they know to nod or shake their head when their master wants them to.”

“The smart horses are fake, too?” Brych asked, appalled. “Is everything a lie?”

Marksi patted him on the shoulder, consolingly.

“Hey, what is that thing?” Cowl asked Brin, bringing Brin’s focus back to his body.

If it was anyone else, Brin would ignore them, but Cowl was cool. Also it was rare for the [Porter] to take the initiative to start a conversation with someone, so Brin should probably encourage this.

“Want to see?” Brin put the core inside the laser frame, opening and sealing it with glass magic.

He noticed the other men in the Lance crowding around, and sensed that they might have put Cowl up to this in the first place. Well, too late.

“I need a target,” said Brin.

Cowl’s eyebrows rose. “That’s a weapon?”

They looked around for something worth shooting, but the empty plains didn’t offer much in the way of shootables. Anwir found a good-sized tumbleweed and they decided that would be good enough.@@novelbin@@

Brin moved ten feet away from it, close enough that he was sure he’d be able to hit it on the first try.

He lifted his weapon like a phaser from Star Trek, pointed, and just to give it that extra bit of oomph, said, “.”

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He shot one quick pulse, then stopped it again. The laser was nearly silent, just a soft puff sound and a beam of red light, none too bright in the daylight. A bit of smoke rose from the tumbleweed was the only sign it had been impacted.

“Whoa,” said Hedrek.

“What happened?” asked Cowl.

“Look,” said Anwir.

They stepped up to the tumbleweed, and on closer inspection could see that a golf ball sized hole had burned straight through the brush.

“That’s a fire beam wand?” Cowl asked.

“Close enough,” Brin said with a grin. He couldn’t help adding, “My own invention. I can charge it with magic, then let it all out at once.”

“Then that’s how much power you get for charging it for a half hour?” asked Hedrek. “Then how strong would it be if you charged it all day?” asked Hedrek.

“That’s what I want to know. I’m thinking, if I have to sit around all day waiting anyway…”

That was enough to convince the men that what Brin was doing was very important and shouldn’t be disturbed.

Soon, Cid and Brych reached the city. There was a long line leading to the city gates, and Brych mentioned that it was only like that because of the war. Usually the gates were wide open, but now only one door large enough to get a cart through was open and guards questioned everyone who came through.

Brych moved to get in line, but Cid simply rode to the front and they were let through without question.

“Should we find a place for our horses?” suggested Brych.

“Let us travel to Sickside first, and then find something,” said Cid.

“Sickside isn’t really a great place for horses,” said Brych.

Cid raised an eyebrow, and Brych waved with his hands. “No, it’s not as bad as all that, it’s only… animals can get sick, too.”

Cid nodded. “Then we’ll stable them here.”

They found a reputable-looking inn who took the horses into their stable and promised that for [Knights] it was free of charge. Then the two of them made their way across the city.

Brin’s Invisible Eyes cast a wide net around the two knights, and he eventually noticed something strange. There were five men that always seemed to be somewhere nearby. They didn’t have unusual Classes for this country, a [Fist-fighting Baker], a [Spear-wielding Fisherman] and the like, but their casual walk through the city always seemed to match where Cid and Brych were going.

“You’re being followed,” Brin told Marksi. “To your right.”

Marksi leapt off Brych’s shoulders.

“Hey wait!”

Marksi ignored Brych’s shouts and darted down the street. Brin pointed out three of the five men to him, and when he was sure Marksi knew their faces, let Marksi return to the knights.

Marksi jumped up and tapped Brych’s shoulders, pointing towards the followers with his tail.

“I know! Shush!” Brych whispered back.

Well, if Brych knew they were being followed, it was probably fine, right? Brin had a hard time believing that, but he couldn’t keep going around suspecting all of his Lancemates as traitors, could he? No, just the [Rogue]. And he didn’t have to be a traitor to be up to no good.

“Tell Cid,” Brin said to Marksi.

Marksi tried the same with Cid, tapping his leg and pointing towards the side-street with his tail.

“Hm? What’s he doing?”

“I think he saw something that spooked him in that direction. We should probably avoid it,” said Brych.

“Let’s go check it out,” said Cid.

They did, but of course, the men following them left before they got there. Marksi tried pointing them in the direction they’d gone, urging them to run this time. “He’s leading us in circles,” Brych complained.

Cid sighed. “You’re right. Lead on towards Sickside.”

Brin growled in frustration. Should he head over there? Then what would he tell the Lance? For now he’d wait and see. If Brych really was leading Cid into some kind of trap, well, Cid wasn’t exactly a weakling. And if all else failed, Brin could reveal his illusions and turn Cid invisible to get him out of there.

Eventually, they reached Sickside. It wasn’t what Brin expected, and yet he knew it immediately when he saw it. The area wasn’t richer or poorer than the neighborhoods around it. Prinnashian’s liked to build with stone, and that was the case here as well.

The difference was how clean everything was. The streets and even the gutters were pristine, as if they’d been swept five times a day. Doorknobs, windows, walls, he couldn’t see a speck of grime on anything. Even the people looked cleaner. Normal people in this world washed themselves with a cloth and basin once a week, and did laundry once a month, but there was a freshness to the look of the people on the streets that made Brin think their hygiene habits were more like what he was used to from Earth.

Cid had the same observation, and Brych explained. “They’re afraid of getting sick. The [Physicians], [Herbalists], [Nurses], and such all say that disease comes from uncleanliness, so they’re really strict about it.”

“I often hear that the worst diseases spring up from the water,” said Cid.

“They’re real strict with their wells and fountains here, sir. They sanitize them once a day, and then boil the water again whenever they can. Lots of soup and tea here in Sickside,” said Brych.

Brin sent his Invisible Eyes scouring the neighborhood in every direction, though neighborhood was the wrong word for it. This district alone was larger than Hammon’s Bog, both in population and size. He could add more Invisible Eyes, but it might still take him days to find Meredydd in this mess.

“Wait. I think I hear his voice!” said Brych. “I do!”

The [Rogue] dashed ahead, with Cid and Marksi trailing him. He turned a corner and kept running, scanning the names of the businesses with his eyes. That was suspicious. Why was he searching so closely if he was following his ears.

Brych stopped in front of a building with a large embellished sign reading, “Botts Foundry and Craft.”

“I think he’s in here,” said Brych. “Botts Foundry and Craft… come to think of it, Meredydd mentioned this place. I think his family works for these guys?”

Brin was certain that Brych had known this was their destination the whole time, and wanted to make it look like he found it by accident. He was beginning to think that Meredydd had told him where he was going in case he didn’t return. After all, how could an [Armsman] really sneak away from anyplace that was being guarded by a [Rogue]?

Cid nodded. “Then let us enter.”

Brin sent an Invisible Eye ahead into the building. Inside, there were only seven men, and one of them was Meredydd. Their [Armsman] was stripped of his armor and tied to a chair. Two [Warriors] stood next to him, guarding him, but the rest of the men were [Merchants]. A well-fed [Merchant] in fine robes seemed to be the leader, and [Inspected] as Cenydd Botts.

The door banged open and Cid entered. The men reeled in shock, and Brin let out a mental sigh of relief; this wasn’t an ambush. The [Merchants] hadn’t been expecting him.

“What is the meaning of this?” Cid shouted.

“Ein! Mab!” Botts shouted the name of the two [Warriors], but neither of them seemed keen on confronting the threat.

Marksi darted forward and immediately began cutting away Meredydd’s restraints with his claws. One of the [Warriors] tried to grab him, but the dragonling evaded his grasping hands so easily it was as if he barely noticed the attempt.

“Brych, mind the door. See that no one leaves,” said Cid.

Botts stepped back and then tripped onto his bottom. “W-w-wait! This isn’t our whole company! Even without those of us here, this man’s family…”

Cid folded his arms. “Continue.”

Botts opened his mouth, but no words came out, pinned in place by Cid’s glare.

“Go on, please. You were about to threaten the family of one of my knights-at-arms, correct? While he is out protecting your realm, you were talking about how you were going to misuse and abuse his family, is this not so?”

“No! Not at all! I–”

“Is a [Knight] of the Order of the Long Sleep to be addressed in such a way?” asked Cid.

“Of course not, sir. My apologies, sir. I only thought to say that if you were to resort to violence, then–”

“Have I been violent? I am here to speak as a man among men, regarding my subordinate knight’s current situation. Is this not my right?”

“Then, he truly is a knight,” said Botts. The other [Merchants] were pale-faced, and the two [Warriors] looked like they were going to be sick.

“I told you that!” said Meredydd, then hushed at a glare from Cid.

“That was our mistake, sir, and I apologize, but he wears plain steel. That’s not the armor of a knight–”

“Yes, I see. While you [Merchants] horde your wealth, the true men who defend you are left to work with subpar equipment. Please, tell me more. After you’re done threatening my man’s family, I’d like to hear more about that.”

Botts licked his lips. “We can work this out peacefully.”

“That’s what I was trying to do! Cid, sir, please understand I thought I’d be back before morning. I had enough to pay my family’s debt, but when I got here they said it wasn’t enough any more and took my sword and armor.”

“Let me see the contract,” said Cid.

“The contract is between me and the head of the household,” said Botts.

“If you can hold Meredydd in your custody for a debt, then he has a right to see the contract,” Cid said.

Botts pretended to moan and groan as he went over to his desk to find the contract, but Brin thought he looked like he was gaining confidence. Now that it didn’t look like there was going to be a fight he probably thought he had the upper hand.

He laid it on a table in front of Cid, and said, “Now, sir, as you can see, we clearly have the right to–”

Cid raised a finger to silence him and stared at the contract. After a moment he said, “This contract is unfair and probably illegal. I’ll have you strike this section, and this one here. Yes, I think that would be best.”

Botts licked his lips. “I assure you that this was approved with city hall and looked over by the finest solicitors. If I were to remove the restitution clause–”

Cid slapped the table. “Master [Merchant], please understand. I am being reasonable, but I have no intention on negotiating with you, and I find you repugnant and your presence is detestable. You will make the alterations and sign immediately. If this is to be a drawn out process, if I am required to involve solicitors and city hall, then I assure you that you will end up with terms that are much more unfavorable.”

Sion had warned Brin that [Knights] and [Warriors] could just bowl straight through [Merchants] here in Prinnash, but for once he was happy to see it happen. The contract was signed, and Cid extracted promises that Meredydd’s family would be extremely well treated going forward. He offered silver to pay off any debt the family owed, but the [Merchant] assured him that no such debt remained.

Meredydd donned his armor and took back his sword, and walked sheepishly out of the building, a free man.

Cid sent Brych ahead, ostensibly to prepare the horses, but really because he wanted to speak to Meredydd alone.

“I’m so, so sorry, sir,” said Meredydd.

“Save it,” Cid snapped.

“You didn’t have to do that for me. You shouldn’t have had to,” said Meredydd.

“Incorrect. It’s my responsibility as Prime to look after my men.”

“It’s not really your job to fix our personal problems,” said Meredydd.

“It’s not my job? That’s the excuse of a [Merchant], it’s not the philosophy of a [Knight]. When I took this command, I took up the call to do all I can in every respect. I do not seek out ways to avoid my duty, I seek means to accomplish it more fully.”

“I’ll sharpen everyone’s weapons,” said Meredydd. “Every day.”

“Oh you will, will you? How generous!” Cid said. Then he sighed. “Well, thank you for the offer, but no thank you. That’s not what I want.”

“It’s not? But I’m an [Armsman],” said Meredydd.

“Each member of the Lance should be capable of maintaining his own equipment, I see no issue in having them stay in practice. No, what I want is more than that. I want someone to take responsibility for our arms, to–”

Unfortunately, Brin didn’t get to hear the rest of the speech. He was interrupted, very rudely, by his Death Sense.

Unless he found a way to avoid it, something was going to kill him. He looked down with his regular eyes to the Fire Jelly core in his hands. It was pulsing an ominous red. He’d overfilled it.

“Crap.”

He flung the core away and was instantly deafened and blinded by the explosion. His consciousness fled only a moment later.