The Way Ahead

Edwin jolted awake as the shouting penetrated his unconscious state, yanking him to wakefulness. At first, he panicked, thinking he was about to be attacked or shipped back to Clan Blackstone, but as the initial scare faded and his rational mind asserted itself, he realized it sounded more like celebration than an attack or anything negative. It didn’t rule out the dwarves coming through, though, so he stayed wary as he got up, preemptively wincing as he put weight on his left arm, then relieved as the expected jolt of pain never came. The bandage on his forearm had been removed at some point, and inspecting it and his shoulder showed that the swelling was completely gone and was apparently completely healed. He had a fairly nasty scar on his shoulder from some combination of the bolt-wound and his subsequent cauterization, but it didn’t seem to impair his flexibility at all.

Edwin stretched gratefully at his newfound health, and casting his gaze around showed that he was alone in the healer’s building, but his shirt, repaired and cleaned to such an extent it looked brand-new, was lying on the tiny bed next to him. Another few seconds of searching unveiled his backpack at the foot of the bed, but his coat was nowhere to be seen. Ah well, not like it was going to do anything for him.

As Edwin got to his feet, his stomach rumbled, which made him wonder how long he must have been asleep. It had to have been at least a day, given the light coming in through the leafy roof. Interestingly, the light coming through the canopy wasn’t strongly tinted green, just the normal warm glow of sunlight, which made him suspect magical shenanigans. As though the whole trees-woven-into-houses wasn’t a giveaway on its own, anyway.

Ducking under the low doorframe, Edwin peeked outside to see the commotion. To his relief, he didn’t see a battalion of armor-clad dwarves waiting for him. Instead, he saw what looked to be a caravan of sorts, a train of covered wagons hooked together just outside the town, and a flood of intermingling halflings greeting one another and embracing as though they hadn’t seen each other in some time. Standing on the outside, milling around the caravan was a group of humans and what looked to be humanoid birdfolk, with talons in place of feet and seemingly prehensile wings in place of arms. Most of the talking was utterly unintelligible even with Polyglot, a thousand different conversations happening all over one another, but Edwin caught vague snippets of something that sounded like English. Someone with Polyglot, perhaps? He saw one of the bird-people talking to the village elder from yesterday, which seemed to be the only place a non-halfling was talking to a halfling and seemed like a decent place to start.

Edwin waded his way through the crowds of tiny people, reminding him of a sea of children. By the time he arrived at the discussion between… uh… what was her name again? Did he ever know? It was probably lost in the flood of incomprehensible halfling jibber-jabber. By the time he arrived at the discussion between the two of them, they had taken note of his approach and seemed to be waiting for him.

“Can we help you?” the bird- a Caravan Merchant Leader- asked. It was weird seeing Polyglot in action, so to speak. Edwin had never been able to see Rashin’s mouth, if he even had one, as he had spoken, but now that he was able to see the bird’s beak, it looked like a bad dubbing job in real life, as the sounds which Edwin heard didn’t correspond to the motions made while speaking in the slightest.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to intrude-” Edwin started, only to be cut off.

“Well, you are. So spit it out and get it over with, adventurer.”

Edwin’s expression soured, “I just heard speech in my native language, and-”

“It’s a skill. Polyglot. Get it yourself and stop bothering us.” The bird was clearly not in a good mood, but the halfling said something which got him to roll his eyes, “Fine. What do you want? Get on with it.”

“and as I was saying, I thought that someone with Polyglot might be able to help me understand what’s happening. You see, I-”

“Look, Ritian and I-”

Oh, Ritian. Let’s just mark that with Almanac…

“-are discussing payment, which is a private matter and of no concern to your type, so if you could just dive off, that would be appreciated.” When Edwin didn’t move, the bird flicked one of his feather-fingers at him, “Shoo.”

Ritan said something, which caused the bird to grumble in a manner which Edwin couldn’t quite catch.

“Fine. Go bother Forala, he’s got Polyglot, he can help you.”

Though he wasn’t normally inclined to listen to such a dismissal, Edwin figured he probably would be more likely to get his questions answered by someone inclined to actually listen to what he was saying. Actually, what even was he wondering? He just had a vague idea about wanting answers, but no concrete questions. He should probably figure that out. It was probably a safe assumption that the bird was talking about one of the non-halflings milling around by the caravan, so he headed that way.

Now that Edwin was outside of the crowd, it was a lot easier moving around, and as he approached the small group, he drew a few curious gazes but most simply didn’t appear to care. One person, a bird with brownish-bronze plumage similar to the merchant leader’s and leaning with his eyes closed against the side of the wagon, spoke up, “No, yican’t climb on ta wagons.” Unlike his previous experiences with Polyglot, there was a distinct accent associated with the newcomer, but Edwin could still tell it was the Skill at work.

“Forala?” Edwin guessed. At his words, Forala jerked into attention, standing up straight and looking at Edwin with a sharp gaze.

“Whatdya want? Who sentya?”

“Your, your uh.” Edwin gestured vaguely in the direction he had come from, “Your leader sent me?”

“Mum? What for, ten?”

“Well, she didn’t want to be bothered and I had some questions.”

Forala- Edwin made sure to tag the Junior Caravanner with his name- looked to the sky and muttered something Polyglot didn’t translate, “Fine. Just get it over wit, wouldya?”

“What’s going on? Who are you guys and where are you from? Where are you going, and can I come along?” Edwin inquired.

“We’re traders, yaknow. We give rides at times ta those witout a Build ta defend temselves, and so we took allta loggers back ta home.” He yawned, or at least did the avian equivalent of a yawn, before continuing, “We came from Port Torveil, and are on our trade route. Drop off ta loggers, pick up some wood fer inland, caryon as always. Wishah could be in ta wagon, but mum always says, ‘nah, Forala! Yagotta make sure te kids don’t climb on ta outside. Wouldn’t want tem to break! Not tat tey could anyway. Wha wasyer oter question?”

Edwin wasn’t sure if Forala’s accent was somehow getting worse as time went on or if he was just saying more words affected by it, but he was getting harder and harder to understand despite Polyglot presumably leveling. Edwin was able to manage, but it wasn’t easy.

“If I could come along? I wound up around here through what I can only assume is some kind of powerful magic shenanigans and I’m kind of interested in not spending the rest of my life-”

“In ta middle o nowhere? Ahgetya. Ya can talk ta mum about it, but we don’t do charity. It’d never be allowed, yaknow? What’syer Build, anyway?” Forala cocked an eye open, looking at Edwin, “Pah. Adventurers. Well, good luck wityer try, not sure whya tink anywhere else’ll be better forya.”

“What do you mean by that? Why am I an adventurer and why does it seem like that’s a bad thing?”

Forala gave him a side glance, “Ya aren’t from around here, areya?”

Edwin shook his head, “That’s what I said.”

“Well it’s easy ta tell tat you’re an adventurer, what kinda Class is ‘Foreign Alchemist,’ anyway? It sure as hells ain’t a proper alchemist Build, too unfocused, anta Foreign part is a dead giveaway, yaknow? But who would ever wantan Adventurer ta work for tem anyway? Cripplin’ their Build just cause tey don’t wanta play by da rules. Really, tey should be punished way harder if yeask my mum, but eh. If ye want ta wreck yer life, I ain’t gonna stop ye, yeknow?”

Edwin blinked, trying to process that influx of information, “So… an adventurer is someone with an unusual… Build? Like class? And that’s bad because… they aren’t effective?”

“Are ya daft? Yeah. What even gotya ta do such a stupid build anyway?”

Edwin shrugged, “Getting dropped in the middle of a forest. Needed every bit of help I could get. Took Skills and Paths which seemed like they’d help.”

“Eh, yer funeral. Looks like mum is near done wit her trade, ye can asker what ye can do ta get passage once she comes over.”

With that, Forala returned to his relaxed lean against the wagon, leaving Edwin to awkwardly stand around while he waited for whatever was next. He needed to get away from here, but all the attention his conversation had drawn from the other members of the caravan made Edwin want to shrink away and run off from the caravan, nevermind that it would be needed to actually leave. He Identified the closest members, finding there to be three Hired Guards (two birds, one human) and two Quarry Couriers (both birds). The rest of the… twenty-one members were out of his 4ish meter range so he couldn’t tell what they were, but the birds did outnumber the humans, with only eight featherless members.

Level Up!

Identify Level 28→29

Polyglot Level 5→6

After what seemed like ages, but was probably only about five minutes, Forala’s ‘mum’ returned to the caravan, fluttering down from the sky, “Okay, you lazy lot! Lumber’s by the river, go earn your keep!” the small crowd dispersed quickly, the bird-folk doing an odd sort of skipping jump or flying instead of walking. She turned to Edwin, “What are you doing hanging around, adventurer? Get.”

“I was hoping I could tag along as you headed to a bigger city. I got stranded out here and I-”

“Don’t need your kind helping. I got my guards already, and I’m not risking my license for you. You want a position as a guard, find someone with bluer feathers. I don’t want you.”

“I just want a ride, I’ll work doing whatever if I can get some or offer what I have in trade, but it’s not much. Look, I just want to get out of here, and fast. I’m not good in a fight anyway, so no worries there.”

She assessed him with an appraising eye, “You aren’t to quarrel with any of my crew. You do, you’re gone. Don’t care if we’re on a bridge over the Rhothos, you’re out. Can you set up a camp, start a fire? Cure a wound? Fix a broken wheel? Make a Cure? What do you have to offer?”

“Understood,” Edwin shrugged, “I can set a fire with the snap of my fingers, have a Skill for wound tending, but I’m a bit of a miserable alchemist unless you want to know how to make a Black-” As soon as the last words left his mouth, Edwin instantly clamped down on his tongue, glaring at the bird. What the heck was that? He wasn’t about to say anything about that, not after last time, “Are you using a Skill on me?” he asked accusingly.

Birds couldn’t smile, but she certainly seemed to give a predatory grin, “Just a bit of Honest Negotiation. Leads you to being open with what you have to offer and keeps you from lying. You must have your head in the clouds to cut off where you did.” She stroked the top of her beak with a feather, “I don’t suppose you were about to say you know how to make Blackstone, do you? Ha! No wonder you’re in such a hurry to get away from here. Those dwarves refuse to give anyone even a hint of the stuff.” She clicked her talons against the ground, an action which surprised Edwin. He didn’t know you could make that sound against dirt and grass, “Tell you what. You give me the formula for Blackstone and help around the caravan as we travel, setting up the fire at night and so on, and we’ll give you a ride to Vinstead, next big city over, couple weeks away and give you food and such on the trip. If you want to go further than that, we can renegotiate then, deal?”

Edwin cast a wary gaze on the merchant. He couldn’t help but feel like he was being taken advantage of, but he didn’t really have any other options at hand, “I don’t know how to make Blackstone.”

“What do you know how to make, then? It’s gotta be something good if you want to keep it so secret.”

Edwin warily eyed her, sizing up how much he trusted her. He didn’t have much of a choice, but that was how he ended up in the last fiasco, and he was not letting something like that happen again, “It’s a sort of liquid stone. Once it dries, it’s as hard as rock.”

Her posture instantly shifted, “I’m interested. Tell me how to make it and you’ve got a deal.”

“I’ll tell you how to make it after we arrive, not before. And if you so much as try to pull any sort of trick to keep me from leaving, deal’s off entirely and I’ll… I’ll see if I can get your licence revoked. Hiring an adventurer, or something, you said?”

She shrugged, “We have a deal. If you behave, I’ll even see about getting you some practice for your Polyglot skill.”

Edwin was taken aback, “How could you tell?”

“Once you get good enough at the skill, you can tell when you’re talking to someone with it as well. Hells, you’re speaking a language I’ve never even heard of yet I could understand you better than Ritian herself. That’s a sure sign that you’ve got some translation Skill, and your reaction told me the rest of the story. It can be a lot easier to level when speaking with someone else with the skill themselves. Forala could use the practice, anyway. He’s gotten a bit brown-clawed as of late.” She started fiddling around with something invisible, presumably something System-related.

Edwin scowled, then was taken aback as an unexpected notification popped up.

A Contract has been extended!

Aerfa Tallfjaer offers: passage to Vinstead, and accompanying amenities

Edwin Maxlin offers: Aid setting up nightly camp, instructions for the creation of liquid stone, not to cause any trouble

Accept Contract? Y/N

“What’s this?”

“You’ve never seen a Contract before? Where are you even from?”

“What does it-“

“Just accept it.”

“Tell me what it does, first.”

Aerfa looked to the sky, “Heavens help me,” she looked at Edwin, who had just been proven wrong about birds being capable of looking exasperated, “All it does is let the other know if the terms have been breached. It’s not an Unbreakable or Punitive, don’t worry. Just accept it so I can go yell at my IDIOT SON, who DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO CARRY A LOG!”

Edwin winced at the volume, and tentatively accepted. It was a bit of a risk, but he figured the System probably wouldn’t lie to him. Aerfa nodded and jumped into the air, soaring over Edwin’s head, displaying a capability for flight which… shouldn’t have worked with the length of her wings. What was going on there? Probably magic, Edwin grumbled to himself. She reached where the caravan crew was returning, carrying comically massive stacks of lumber on one shoulder from around the village and started yelling at how incompetent they all were, focusing specifically on a few key individuals.

Edwin sighed. Great, loud people. Just what he wanted. Still, at least now he had a ride.