The rhythmic sound of hooves against dirt faded into the distance, as the two armour-clad men on horseback trotted by.
It turns out, if the group of six had hidden any later, they would have been caught, because not even thirty seconds after Morgan had taken up lookout behind a tree, the two men – who he assumed worked for the Baron – had ridden into view.
His eyesight wasn't nearly as good as his sense of smell, so he wasn't able to make out the insignia branded onto their chest plates as they rode by, but he highly doubted anyone else would have their men patrolling the Baron's land.
Morgan breathed a sigh of relief as they left earshot and flopped to the ground. His head still ached, slightly less than ten minutes ago, but still enough that any complex thought was difficult. Checking his mana reserves, he saw he was back up to ten percent from the previous two.
It seemed unusual for mana to regenerate so quickly, but he hadn't even known of it a week ago, so he couldn't really say.
His tongue flickered out slowly, sampling the air as the sound of footsteps drew closer. He recognised Wren by the familiar taste he left in the air, but he couldn't be bothered opening his eyes as he rested his head in his palms, wincing as he put weight on his injured right hand.
"So. I think it's time you talked. Why are you hiding from Baron Greve's men? Does it have anything to do with why you were walking around the woods looking like an oversized goblin?"
Morgan groaned and rubbed his temple with his left hand. At first, he thought it would be difficult to explain. But the truth was, it wasn't that complicated.
"The Baron kidnapped me when I crashed and tried to sssell me to some Marquis. I stole the keysss to my cell off his incompetent guard, and escaped. Oh, and I also released sssome bug/human thing he had locked up in the basement, not sure what happened to it…"
Wren was pretty understanding of his story, even glancing briefly at the key ring tucked into the bandages on his chest in realisation. That was however, until Morgan mentioned the bug lady. Whatever he knew about her caused him to almost instantly spiral into a panic attack.
The air was flooded with the taste of panic, fear, and uncertainty as the red-head looked at him, his features contorted into a mask of conflict.
Morgan felt his curiosity increase, until it slowly overpowered his headache. This was his chance, he could finally learn more about that strange creature, maybe there was more of them?
"Do you know sssomething about the bug lady? I would love to know. Hopefully I didn't release a sssuper evil alien."
"No… she isn't an alien. At least I don't think she is, the records get a bit vague about that. In truth, no-one is quite sure what she is, just that she's dangerous. What I do know, is she was imprisoned because people feared her power, and colluded together to bring her down.
But aside from that fact, I know nothing. The king of that time sought to scrub every mention of her from history, even going so far as to wage war with neighbouring countries to cover up his actions.
That though, was well over a century ago. I thought it was just a myth."
"Oh…"
He fell silent as the implications of what he'd done settled on him. He may have doomed hundreds of innocent people to the wrath of a woman who was unjustly wronged, if what Wren was saying was true.
Still, he despised the idea of unjustly imprisoning someone, and he would release her again even knowing what he did now. The thought of being trapped for well over a century, strung up by his arms and unable to even scratch an itch, was a horrid one.
"Well… the past is in the past I guessss. She might not have even made it out, last I saw she wasss fighting some guard captain."
"At least that explains why you were so quick to hide. Now, do you think you can walk, you're still super pale."
Morgan nodded as he stood up, and immediately regretted it. His hand shot out, grabbing the tree for support as the world spun around him and his stomach heaved. Spinning on the spot, he hurled into the bushes behind him.
Surprisingly enough, that seemed to do the trick. He straightened up, his stomach suddenly feeling a lot better and nodded again, this time more confidently.
Wren didn't seem to fully share his confidence, but seemed happy enough that Morgan was back on his feet, and didn't pry.
The trek back to the road was far slower this time, and far less painful as they walked along the path he'd flattened during his hasty sprint. Small cuts littered his legs from where he'd run through thorns and branches alike, but they were quickly scabbing over.
He was far more wary this time, constantly sampling the air in an increasingly familiar motion. He'd cut it far too close last time, and with his mana depleted, he had no choice but to take in the sights.
They walked through the afternoon and into the evening. Around them, the trees thinned and the ground grew increasingly dry. Up ahead, the silhouette of a village could be seen against the orange rays of the setting sun.
The woods gave way to sprawling fields that stretched for nearly as far as the eye could see, through the evening twilight, he could faintly make out the tops of the colossal trees forming a ring around the village.
Curious what crops might be grown in this world, Morgan stepped off the side of the road and approached the nearest paddock. The plants in it, were some type of root vegetable, possibly a radish, and they weren't in good condition.
The soil was dry and cracked in places, while the plants wilted, their leaves discoloured by a lack of essential minerals in the soil. He even spotted a few that looked to be suffering from blight.
These weren't the signs of a healthy, functioning civilisation, and it worried him. Surely, they at least knew to fertilise their fields with ash and manure.
Returning to the road, he was confused. In a world where magic existed, how were the common people made to suffer? Didn't the nobles know that if the peasants starved, they would have no one left to tax, or tend the fields?
"Why are the fieldsss like this?"
Wren sighed and glanced at him as they walked.
"They weren't always like this. These lands used to be one of the most prosperous kingdoms, but after the coup ten years ago, they've rapidly declined."
Morgan stared at the endless fields of wilted and dying crops, his mind abuzz with ideas and solutions. It was hard to believe they could degrade so far in only ten years. The fields weren't beyond saving though, they just needed the right care.
Yet, for all his ideas, he couldn't solve the water problem. Whether it was drought, failed irrigation, or both, it was beyond his expertise.
He sighed, and mentally dropped the topic as they approached the gate. A large wooden palisade, at least four metres in height, surrounded the entire town, the logs clearly sourced from the nearby woods.
"Halt! Show some identification or pay the fee."
Two guards were stationed at the gate, the first and the one who spoke, was a taller man with greying hair, a chipped sword, and dented armour. Based on the way he carried himself with confidence, Morgan assumed he was likely a retired soldier.
The younger guard couldn't have been older than sixteen. He wore worn leather armour and fidgeted with a rusty spear that wobbled in his grip. The kid was likely a farmer's son, who wanted a better job.
Still, he couldn't focus on the guards forever as he finally hit a snag in his plan. Originally, he intended to enter a town, find a pawn shop of some kind, and sell the golden pin for some quick money. But without money, he couldn't enter the town, so he was in a bit of a predicament.
He could only hope his friend had some cash on hand.
"Can you cover me Wren? I must have dropped my money in the goblin fight."
"Goblins!? Where, how many!"
What he wasn't expecting, was for the older guard to take such an interest in the goblins. He stepped forward, eyes steely as he looked over their group.
Morgan glanced to the side at Wren and got a small nod. They'd agreed ahead of time that Iskandar wouldn't move or say anything, and if they were asked about them, Morgan would just lie and say he was delivering their corpse home to their village.
"I think there was about thirty goblins, they'd made camp about half a day back that way by a shallow brook. They're not there anymore though, I set their camp on fire. That's where we found these three."
He finished his sentence by gesturing at the three people trailing behind them. He hadn't noticed till now, but they were all a lot more active for some reason, and looked around with some clarity to their eyes.
"Janice no! Oh, how could I let this happen to you… and Trish, and Drog!"
The older guard's voice cracked as he rushed up to the three, not quite running, but not quite walking either. His hand hovered over Janice's shoulder, as if he wanted to shake her out of her fugue but knew better.
Each of them turned to him in order as he called out their names, a flash of recognition showing briefly in their eyes before they turned glassy once more.
His head bowed as his eyes looked away and his shoulders shook. Morgan had to fight the urge to sample the air.
Collecting himself after a few seconds of silence, the older guard straightened up and returned to his post by the gate with a shaky breath.
"Thank you for saving them, I only wish you could have gotten to them sooner. Cursed goblins! They should recover in time now that they're home, but they'll never quite be the same. Now, did you kill all the vermin who did this to them?"
"I believe so. I encircled the camp in fire, and I didn't see any new tracks after the fact. I can't be certain though, as I was caught up in a fight with a strange one at the time.
The guard let out a shuddering breath, then looked to the dimming sky in consideration.
"We- I owe you one. You can enter for free this time. But please, take my sister and her family to the town hall if possible, I'm unable to leave my post to do it myself."
He said no more, and stepped to the side. The younger guard was a bit slower, but quickly caught on and made way.
Stepping through the gates, Morgan let out a sigh of relief. He'd been really worried the Baron would have all guards on lookout for him, and he was prepared to run at any moment. There was also the matter of needing to mask his slight lisp, as he'd been told it sounded inhuman.
However, his concerns were without merit, and he proceeded deeper in the darkening town.
They'd need to drop the three off, and then find an inn for the night. Looking around, he noticed a building a bit further up the street, that had a sign with a picture of a bed on it.
"Wren, are you able to take these three to the town hall? I'm worried the Baron may have put a wanted poster out on me, and the most likely place for that, would be there. While you do that, I could get usss some rooms at that inn."
"Sure, take this. It should be enough for a single night."
Wren nodded and handed him a few coins before continuing down the long, straight main road that cut through the entire town. Staring at the different sized and coloured coins, Morgan was stumped. How was he supposed to know their worth?
"Issy, can you tell me how much money thisss is? I've got 4 small copper coinsss, 2 large copper, and 3 small sssilver."
"…I forget, you're not from… around here. A copper coin… is the smallest currency, ten… small copper makes a large copper… ten large copper make a small… silver, silver becomes… gold and so on… all the way till platinum pieces… which are worth… a million… copper…"
"Thanksss."
If there was one thing he could appreciate, it was well thought out currency systems. He would've hated it, if the coins were in uneven denominations.
Without any further dawdling, he pushed open the door and entered the inn. The inside was silent, save for the quiet chatter of some regulars sitting by the bar. A few tables were set up around the room, and there was a staircase leading up a level.
Morgan made his way across the room, the wooden floorboards creaking under foot as he stopped in front of the counter. Within seconds, the bartender made her way over.
She was a larger woman, standing a head taller than his own height of one hundred and seventy centimetres. She had prominent muscles that bulged beneath her apron, but at the same time her hands trembled ever so slightly, and her skin looked chalky.
"Aye, whatcha want?"
"Is this an inn?"
"Ya daft? Course it is."
"I would like three beds please."
The woman shot him a squinted glare before slapping a single key onto the counter.
"One room, three beds. That'll be 2 large coppers."
Fumbling with the coins, a hand shot out from across the counter and snatched the correct change from his hands, leaving him baffled. He'd barely seen her move, one moment she was there, the next his coins were gone and she hadn't moved a millimetre.
The only reason he knew it was her that took the money, was because she made a show of flashing the coins before dropping them into a pocket on the front of her outfit.
"Ya rooms up da stairs. Now git."
With that, she turned and walked away to address her other customers. Taking the offered key, he glanced at the script carved into the wooden tag, but couldn't make out what it said. At some point he'd need to learn the language of this world.
A cool breeze washed over him as he stepped outside and leant against the wall. He was still on the main road, and he could see the town hall from here, so it wouldn't be long till Wren returned.
Twenty minutes passed. Then thirty. Morgan slumped against the inn's outer wall, watching the empty street.
After forty-five minutes, he was beginning to wonder if Wren had somehow gotten lost between the town hall and the main road—which should've been impossible—when a familiar shock of red hair emerged from an alley.
The wrong alley. One that wasn't even close to where he should have been, and was actually closer to the gate than the hall.
"Don't…" Wren said, catching Morgan's expression.
"Just... don't."
"I wasn't going to sssay anything."
"You were thinking it."
"How did you even get over there? The town hall is that way."
"I took a shortcut."
"Through someone's kitchen?"
Wren stormed past him, his silence answer enough. Chuckling aloud, Morgan followed him into the inn. Absently, a thought occurred to him. Most – if not all – of the people he'd seen so far in this world, had hair some shade of brown, except for Wren.
His was more vibrant, than any natural hair colour he'd ever seen, old world included.
Thoughts for another time, he didn't care to pry into their life.
"I've got us a room, come on."
His eyelids were growing heavier by the moment, and after depleting his mana earlier in the day, he was ready to hit the hay. But his stomach had other plans.
A loud growl echoed from his stomach as he stepped onto the stairs, loud enough for both his friends to take notice.
"Huh, I figured you would've grabbed some food Morgan. Come along then."
Sleep would have to wait, as he was dragged back over to the bar and forced onto a stool. Passing the change from earlier back to his friend, he tuned out the world around him and tried not to nod off.
The smell of cooked food caused him to snap to attention an unknown amount of time later, he hadn't meant to doze off, but being inside for the first time in days, combined with his exhaustion from walking all day, and he was powerless to resist.
He glanced down at the food in front of him, it was a basic if minimalist stew with a few vegetables and some small pieces of meat. To the side sat a hard loaf of bread that he tucked away for Iskandar. The stew didn't taste too bad, but nowhere near what he was used to on earth.
Scarfing it down, he said his thanks for the food and retreated to his room for the night. Not caring the slightest that it wasn't very clean, just that there was a proper bed.
Taking Iskandar off his back, he carefully undid the ropes and made sure they hadn't torn their skin, before laying them on the bed by the wall. Tearing up the hard bread into small chunks, that were small enough for them to safely eat, he fed them till they were satiated.
They would need some clothes soon, he'd wrapped part of his old shirt around them a while back, but the more they healed, the more their dignity would matter.
But those were future problems. Without any further delays, he fell onto the middle bed, already asleep before his head hit the pillow.
Unaware that below him, shadowy figures began to stir, their eyes glued to a poster previously hidden behind the crowd of regulars.