Book 3 - Chapter 23 (Patreon)

Brin woke up the next morning with barely a trace of any headache at all. That was a nice change. Even in his old life, four glasses of wine would’ve been enough to give him the beginning of a hangover, but he really felt nothing other than the feeling that dawn was too early and he’d rather sleep another four hours.

He’d already packed the night before, but really there hadn’t been much to pack. Just his clothes, some glass things that he’d made, a few odds and ends that he’d collected. All that went into an ordinary backpack. He’d carry his wooden spear and use it as a walking staff.

The most important things he owned he already wore on his body all the time. The enchanted armband of invisibility, and the ring of storage. Inside the ring, he put his glass spear, mostly because there wasn’t much else he needed it for. He’d also put his last potion of no-sleep. Calisto hadn’t been able to give him any other cool potions, but only because he’d been so busy making things for Hogg. Brin had managed to beg an exploding potion off of Hogg, which also went in the ring. Alchemical potions were deceptively small, so he still had a pound and a half out of his five pounds. He decided to put in a bottle of water in for now and call it good. If he somehow got separated from everyone and had to survive in the wilderness, clean drinking water would be more valuable than anything else. At least, that’s what he would tell himself until he thought of something cooler to put in there.

They left the house without ceremony. Marksi climbed up on his shoulders and Hogg walked next to him, not carrying anything. Brin knew that Hogg loved to keep an entire armory in an enchanted backpack whenever possible, which meant that he’d probably already left his bags with the caravan.

It was a nice morning. The sky was clear, and a cool breeze moved through the air with no sign of the intense muggy heat that came along with the later day. He wondered if he should feel a bit nostalgic. This was the last time he would make this trek for a good long time. Instead, he was impatient. He'd seen these same boring trees and this same bumpy dirt road so many times that he was thoroughly sick of it. He wanted nothing more than to see something else, to go somewhere new. That was exactly how he should feel at the start of a journey.

"Oh, right." Brin remembered something. "I promised Zilly I would talk to you. She's banned from coming with the caravan, but I get the feeling that was on Kevim's insistence and not because the caravan has any problem with her. Do you think we could get them to change their mind?"

"Sure," said Hogg. "But why should I? The fact that she thinks she can do whatever she wants whenever she wants and expects the rest of us to do nothing but bend over backwards is starting to wear. She's got [Survival], don't she? Let her sleep on the ground with the bugs climbing all over her for a week or two. Maybe that'll build some character. Nothing else has worked."

"Ok, but..."

Hogg rolled his eyes. "I'll keep an eye on her.”

"Thanks," said Brin.

After they got through the forest, they didn't bother to walk through town. They just walked across the clear area where the walls would soon be built towards the north gate where the caravan was waiting. A few odd stones had already been set in place for the wall's foundations, but in other places the ground had been dug down a little. It looked like they'd started building, but then one of the new arrivals who actually knew what they were doing had convinced them to stop and make a foundation first. The trench wasn't any deeper than five feet anywhere, and even with the rare obstacles it was still easier than trying to cut through town. If they did that they'd have to say hello and talk about the weather to a dozen different people. Maybe he should take the opportunity to enjoy one last morning talking to people in town, but honestly he was just ready to be going.

He'd promised himself that he'd travel in this new shot at life he'd gotten; that he'd see the world. He'd delayed on that promise long enough. It was finally time to travel.

The caravan appeared as they walked around the bend. The wagons weren't huddled around in a circle any more; they were all in a single file that stretched down the road. Most of them were hitched to horses or oxen, but one of the wagons attached to a giant boar. [Inspect] called him "Big Ron", and he was level 37. The animals had all been grazing with the livestock of Hammon's Bog, so Brin hadn't seen them before except from a distance.

The lead wagon wasn't hitched up to any animals at all.

"What's going on with the wagon in front?" he asked.

"That's the caravan leader's wagon. I'll save you the trouble of [Inspecting] him. He's a level 56 [Caravan Master] named Zarif. He's got the Skill to make the wagon move on its own. [Guide Wagon] is a base Skill of the [Caravaneer] Class, mostly for avoiding potholes or helping give a little nudge when it's stuck in the mud but he's evolved it a bunch of times and he's got the mana pool to keep it moving all day."

"That's awesome! How many Classes are there that can move vehicles? If I got a small lightweight car, could I get a Class that would push it for me? How fast can it go?" If there was one thing Brin missed most of all from his old world, it was cars. Well, no, it was pizza and then computer games, but cars came in as a solid third place.

"Stop getting distracted. The thing you need to know about the leader of a caravan is that he's equivalent to a captain at sea. His word is law. Do what he says during the travel, or you risk being hanged on the spot for rebellion."

Brin snorted. "I'd like to see him try that with you."

"He won't have to. I listen to the advice of experts in their domain, and out here that's him. We're not in Hogg Town anymore."

They approached the lead wagon, and a merchant wearing colorful robes stepped off the front to greet them. Zerif was a short man, barely taller than Brin. He had darkly tanned skin and a short goatee. He spread his arms wide as he approached. "Welcome! Welcome!"

Hogg stopped. "Permission to join the caravan, sir."

"Of course! I welcome you. Truly, sir, it is an honor. I am completely at your disposal. Please do not hesitate to tell me anything that I or my people might do to serve you better." The [Caravan Master's] obsequious behavior was completely at odds with what Hogg had led Brin to expect, to the point that Brin couldn't help but wonder if this was the wrong person.

Hogg nudged Brin with his elbow.

"Permission to join the caravan, sir," said Brin.

"Yes, and the young master. Welcome!" Zerif grasped Brin's hand with both of his. "Anything I can do to make your trip more comfortable? You must sleep in my wagon. Yes, only that will do. I will take Pio's wagon and he can sleep with the--"

"That won't be necessary," said Hogg.

"If you're sure? Well, you must store your things with me at least. Only my wagon is safe enough."

"He can keep his things in the open cart where the laborers and guards put their stuff," said Hogg.

"Only if you're sure?" Zerif stretched out the word, and when Hogg didn't change his mind, he nodded. "Very well. We'll depart shortly. Brin, I'll have Pio show you where you can store your things. Pio!"

Pio appeared like the wind. He wore the same short goatee as Zerif, but other than that they couldn't have been more different. He was huge and his muscles were on full display as he wore nothing but a pair of colorful striped pants; he didn't even have shoes. Where Zerif wringed his hands and nodded his head with a smile, Pio stood domineering with his hands clenched at his sides.

He fixed Brin with a wide-eyed stare. He looked at Marksi on Brin’s shoulders with a more complicated expression, then firmed his eyes and stared back at Brin. He tilted his head to the side to indicate he should follow. Brin looked to Zerif who gave him a deferential smile, and Hogg who looked quite pleased. Brin gulped and followed Pio.

Pio turned and walked quickly. Looking at his back, Brin took the opportunity to do a quick [Inspect].

Name: Pio Melo

Age: 34

Level: 41

Class: Beast Master

Brin had never seen that old Beastmaster movie, but he'd seen the poster enough to know that Pio at least dressed the part. The only thing he was missing was the two leather straps crossing his chest and the wavy golden hair–Pio's hair was typical Frenarian light brown, cut short.

"Keep up!" barked Pio. Brin ran up to walk next to him.

"Life in the caravan is not so easy as you are used to. You will work. If we are stopped, you are working. If you are ever not working, then find work. There are no passengers or guests; there is only the caravan.” Pio had a bit of a Prinnashian accent, even though his name was definitely Frenarian.

He paused, waiting for a response. Maybe he was waiting for Brin to object to the part where he'd said that his life was easy. Brin didn't give him the satisfaction. "Yes, sir."

Pio nodded. "When we are moving, you move. A break, how nice for you! But your eyes are never on break. Always scan the treeline. Keep your eyes moving. They never stop." He demonstrated eye movement, making a show of scanning back and forth, moving his head to make sure he got the full length of the road. "If you see something, tap wood."

He knocked on the side of a wagon. "Do not call out loud unless it's human. Some beasts are more likely to attack if they know they are seen, some are less likely. Don't yell, just tap. We will hear the tap. If we don't see what you see, someone will come and ask."

Brin nodded. "Yes sir."

Pio abruptly stopped walking. He veered to the side and approached an ox. He adjusted the harness on the animal, and then patted its next, murmuring smoothly to the beast. The ox snorted back as if they were really in a conversation and batted its eyes. When Pio left, it looked a lot calmer and happier than it had before.

He continued his lecture as if nothing had happened. "Do not leave the road without permission. You are not home. You are part of a caravan. You need permission to pee and you need permission to eat."

"Yes, sir."

Pio peered at him. "You will do well here. Not like that girl from your town."

"You're definitely talking about Zilly, right? Ha! I knew it. You have to tell me some stories. She had to have done something embarrassing, right?"

"Put your pack here," said Pio. There was a smallish wagon heaped with backpacks. The sides were open above a short rail to keep things from sliding off, and only a thin tarp up above to keep off the rain. Brin slung his backpack onto the cart, but kept his spear in his hand.

"You can walk where you wish, but remember, keep your eyes moving."

“Great. Anything else?”

Pio stared off into the distance. His eyes flicked to Marksi, then he looked away again.

Brin smiled. “He can understand you.”

Pio stared at Marksi in surprise. “You speak?”

Marksi shook his head. 

“He can understand speech, though,” said Brin.

Pio held out a hand. “May I… May I?”

Marksi nodded. Pio reached out to gently scratch Marksi behind the jaw, and the little dragon collapsed onto Brin’s shoulders in a fit of purring. No fair! [Beast Master] gave this guy cheat-power scritches!

“Would you like to come meet my friend?” Pio asked Marksi. “Big Ron is a great beast! Great friend! Would you?”

Marksi hopped over into Pio’s arms as if the muscular man was a great friend that he’d known all his life.

With that, Pio stomped away, in a way that made Brin think he wasn't supposed to follow.

"I guess I’ll catch up later," he said to himself. Well, Marksi would be fine. The little guy was a pretty good judge of character.

A whistle blew, and all at once, the wagons started moving. Brin smiled. They were finally doing it.

Not sure where he should be, he walked up and down the length of the caravan, and eventually found Davi, walking alongside a wagon. Myra was sitting on the wagon, so of course that's where Davi would be. He wasn't sure why Myra got to sit, but she was sharing the driver's seat with a [Merchant] lady, who guided a tough-looking black horse.

"Hey, so don't get too excited, but I don't think Pio likes Zilly very much. To hear her tell it, she was a bigshot hero to these people."

Davi frowned. "Levels don't lie. She must have done something to shoot up that fast."

"She was a great help against those bandits," the [Merchant] said. [Inpsect] called her Duelna. "And you mustn't mind Pio. He doesn't like anyone that walks on two legs."

"But she must've done something right? Zilly's always up to something crazy?" Myra said.

After a little more prodding, Duelna got the picture that they wanted to hear funny stories about their friend, and was happy to comply. 

Apparently, Zilly had a habit of wandering away no matter how many times she was told not to leave the road. One time, she disappeared for half the entire day, only to reappear with a Cherry Bear hot on her heels. It had been Kevim who took the beast down, and he and Pio had been burning mad about it the rest of the trip.

"Wait, what's a Cherry Bear?"

"It's a bear that ate too many cherries," said Davi, with the quirk of his mouth that meant he was trying to be funny.

Myra shook her head. "It's a bear with metamorphosing rabies. They get these weird red growths all over that look like cherries. Don't get bit by one or you'll go insane and die."

"She's right," said Duelna the [Merchant]. "You won't get the antidote in time unless it happens right inside the [Chemist] wagon."

That gave Brin another good idea for something to put in his ring of storage. He couldn't afford another healing potion, but maybe he could find some anti-venoms for some of the most common nasties out here? Actually what kind of things should he be worried about?

"You know, I'm worried about the bugs. There's a town Skill to keep mosquitos and ticks and venomous spiders out of Hammon's Bog, but we don't have that out here."

"Anti-bug [Skills] are pretty normal for [Caravaneers] and [Hunters]," said Duelna.

Brin sighed in relief.

They walked along at a good pace. It would've felt very quick for any group on Earth, but it wasn't overbearing to anyone from here. It was refreshing, honestly, just enough to feel some movement in his body but not even strenuous enough to work up a sweat. He still did sweat, though, because the sun climbed in the sky and poured down muggy heat on them.

They didn't stop for lunch. A [Caravaneer] walked up and down the line, passing out small loaves of bread and sausages, one each. The sausage was great, but the bread was hard and dense and took forever to eat, which gave him something to do while he walked.

Four hours after noon, he heard a whistle from the head of the caravan. No one stopped, so Brin asked Duelna what it was about.

"Anyone who hasn't finished their lunch needs to put it away."

"That's not a problem, I finished mine hours ago. But why?" asked Brin.

"To keep the smell from attracting things. I think it was about here. Yes, it must be. Notice how the forest is louder now?"

Now that she pointed it out, Brin did notice. More birds sang in the trees, frogs called from the ponds, and the thrumming rhythm of cicadas, or their Boggworld equivalent, hummed in the trees.

"Yeah, I can hear it, but why?"

"The undead stayed near your town, and pushed all the other wildlife out. Animals seem to be able to sense undeath and stay away. There will be more wildlife out there now, and more monsters. Did anyone tell you about how to keep your eyes moving?"

Brin met Davi's eyes, and the slight guilt he saw there meant that Davi had also been told and that he'd also completely forgotten.

They kept their heads on a swivel after that, tracing the forest left to right, right to left, never stopping.

He missed the knocking at first. Tap, tap, tap. Then again. By the third time, he heard it. Guards ahead of him in line had stopped looking back and forth. A [Merchant] and a [Caravaneer], though the two of them both looked like they knew how to use their spears. Their eyes were fixed at a spot in the forest, and they were tapping the wood of the wagons.

Brin looked to where they were looking, but didn't see anything.

There was a crash in the forest, and the spear-wielding [Merchant] yelled. “We’re under attack!”