It was only a few hours of walking before there was a fork in the main road that they were on. Earlier in the morning they had already loaded Lance up with supplies. Even Marcus was generous with him, giving him a handful of silver that he’d had squirreled away.

Michael embraced him, briefly squeezing tightly enough that their armor started to groan a bit in protestation.

“Be safe Lance. I hope to see you again someday.”

Lance nodded, the certainty from the previous night still clear on his face. Michael remembered what he’d looked like when they’d first met. Clear eyed, focused, not a mark on him, as full of sureness as he was of uncertainty. Now his face had scars, his eyes were sunken, but his expression was more true. There was less bluster to him now, even though he was weaker without the Titles he’d inherited.

When he began to walk away, Michael felt dread. It was similar to when he’d watched his own kids walk up to their dorms when they’d moved out, though this time he wasn’t crying his eyes out. Michael held up his hand toward him.

“Seras, Nykas, and all the rest of the divine, please look over and protect Lance. Let him reach his destination safely and find what it is that he’s seeking.”

He heard their whispers in his mind as he lowered his hand, and felt as if he'd done something, given something from himself to Lance.

~protection~laughter~guidance~granted~

Michael nodded and turned around to follow the others as they headed East. Marcus was fairly certain that they were within less than a week of Swandia. They’d started to encounter other travellers. Some were merchants, wary of unruly looking men like them until Michal healed their donkey’s hurting shoulder or their wife’s hurt foot. They passed a few groups of mercs as well, but when it was clear that they were deserters, they were ignored. There were also some Svict soldiers on horseback here and there, but they mostly seemed to be messengers. The roads were certainly less patrolled than those of Stent had been.

At the end of the day they were starting to look for places to camp when a town came into view. Not a village full of sheep, but an actual town with buildings taller than Ollie, paved streets, and windows lit by candlelight and magic.

They opted to continue travelling in the hopes that they’d be able to find a place to sleep and eat. As they got closer it became clear that the town wasn’t of Svict. The buildings appeared to mostly be made of brick rather than the wattle and daub or dugouts they’d seen up until this point, and Marcus pointed out that the map he’d looked at had no major Svict towns or cities along the road that they’d been travelling on.

“That means that’s a Swandian city,” said Ollie.

Marcus smiled. “We fucking made it.”

They had a lot more pep in their step as they made it to the town, realizing that there were a handful of guards watching the road in and stopping people as they made their way inside.

“Let me do the talking,” said Marcus as they got closer.

Pyotr laughed. “Would you even give the rest of us a chance to try?”

The guards stopped them immediately on noticing that they were wearing armor and had weapons belted at their waists.

“Welcome to the town of Stad, the gateway to Swandia. State your business.”

“We are here to look for mercenary work,” said Marcus.

The guard chuckled. “I could have guessed.” He squinted and looked them over. “Deserters? From Stent?”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Marcus nodded.

“Well, you might have trouble finding a mercenary company that’s not headed to Tusinia to fight your former countrymen, but with that army in the northeast and the new rifts to the south, I’m sure you can find something.”

The guard looked at another of his number standing behind him and they exchanged a quick nod. “Don’t start trouble, and don’t be a fool. It’ll cost one silver for each of you to enter.”

Marcus clenched his jaw, but pulled a silver out for himself and then looked at the others.

Michael pulled out a silver of his own, but Francesca shook her head at both of them.

“I’ve got it,” she said, somehow pulling a small cloth sack from somewhere and drawing six silver from it. “You all got me here safely, it’s the least I could do.” She handed them to the guard who frowned.

“I forgot that Tusinian silver are a bit lighter than ours here, I think it’ll take another… two to make up for it.”

Francesca frowned at him. “Tusinian silver coins are more pure than Swandian. You cut yours by almost half. You’ll take six and let us inside.”

Marcus sighed and pulled out two silver coins. “That’s not how this is going to work,” he handed them to the guard who smiled at him. “Enjoy your drinks on us.”

“I will,” said the guard, stepping aside along with the others to let them through.

When they were a few yards into the town Francesca shook her head. “I definitely could have haggled them down to only taking one more,” she said. “I knew they were shaking us down, it’s not as if I didn’t encounter my fair share of that both here and on Earth.”

“It may be shocking to the rest of you, but sleeping in an actual bed is my priority at the moment, not haggling,” responded Marcus.

They began walking down the street which was lit by a kind of magical lantern. It had been a long time since Michael had been in a town. He basically hadn’t seen one since he’d been taken to the Academy in Stent. Those brief glimpses had told him a lot about this world, and more specifically Stent. The streets of this town were very different. They were mostly cobblestone, and the groups of people were much more diverse than Stent, where everyone had been human and dressed in fashions clearly inspired by military garb. Here Michael saw humans as well, but also small groups of dwarves, aelves, and even a pair of people with the heads of birds who were clacking their beaks together in what he guessed was a sign of affection. They were all dressed far more diversely as well, though there was a strong foundation of brown wool garments that must’ve been sourced from Svict traders.

There were

a few men in military garb, a very simple orange surcoat holding halberds as they walked, a few with what looked like crossbows. There were also some men in armor or openly wearing blades at their waists that seemed to be mercenaries or sellswords, though for all Michael knew it was simply the fashion of the city to go about armed. There was one small group of them being arrested by guards next to a suspicious stain on a nearby wall that indicated they hadn’t wanted to find an actual bathroom.

Marcus stopped in front of a building with a sign that showed a moon and stars as well as a bed in simple pictograph. It looked a little dingier than the other inns they’d passed, but Marcus had a good idea of their finances, so Michael didn’t question it, and the others were too tired after pushing themselves to march further to bring it up.

He moved up to the counter where an older man was dozing, but shook his head and stood as Marcus arrived. He looked a little distastefully at him.

“Can I help you?” he asked, forcing a bit of geniality into his voice as he corrected his expression.

“We’re looking for rooms.”

“We have four available. Five copper a night.”

“We’ll take three for three copper a night, and we’ll pay ahead for the week.”

The man narrowed his eyes, “Four copper a night.”

“Deal,” responded Marcus, reaching into his pockets and sorting the payments.

The innkeep raised an eyebrow at the Stent coinage, but said nothing.

“Head up the stairs, all three rooms are on the right side in a row,” he reached under the desk and took out three keys.”

“Any chance you have a bath?” asked Michael. He had managed to ignore it for some time, but he wasn’t exactly feeling fresh.

“My boys went home for the night, but when they’re here in the morning they’ll haul up a basin of hot water and some clean towels for a copper.”

“Thanks,” said Michael with a smile.

“I thought you said you were too tired to haggle,” said Francesca with a smirk.

“Too tired to haggle with pigs doesn’t mean too tired to haggle with that guy,” replied Marcus.

Davi frowned at him.

“And by pigs I mean fine upstanding guards that forced us to bribe them.”

They all went upstairs. Michael and Ollie went to the first room, Marcus and Pyotr the second, and Davi and Francesca to the third. There wasn’t really any question as to that last one.

Michael was expecting to look over his equipment, take stock of things, and maybe look out the window into the town for a little while, but the second he took off his armor and took a moment to lie down on an actual bed, he was out.