Unbound

It was a short jaunt down a fern-crowded defile and across a half mile of dense jungle before the two of them reached the road. In Archie’s opinion, it barely qualified as such; made of hard-packed dirt studded with half-sunk blocks of stone scattered at seemingly random. Deep ruts marred its surface, too, enough that Archie had to hop over them just about every other step. Beef didn’t have much issue, of course, which almost drove Archie to burn Mana on Primeval Drift.

He resisted the urge.

Blending in was the name of the game. To that end, Archie wore his simple tunic and trousers—nothing fancy, but well-made enough—while Beef was draped in what he generously called a cloak and Archie considered a circus tent. The thing was massive, but it covered Beef's horns all the way down to his hooves, though it couldn’t disguise his sheer bulk. Archie worried about that, but as they moved down the crappy road, they passed a bunch of farmland, and his fears abated. The fields teemed with people, all of them busy tending or planting seeds or whatever it was that farmers did. Among those people were quite a few folks of unusual stature. In some cases, they were equal to Beef, though none were quite as tall.

The first were giant, bipedal tortoises, complete with enormous, spiky shells and clawed hands. They used those claws, swiping at tender stalks with one hand while bundling the sheaves up with the other and tossing them into large, square backpacks. The second kind were big, bear-like, and had faces only a mother could love.

“Eugh, they look like they ran a Goblin into a wall a few dozen times,” Archie muttered.

“They’re not so bad,” Beef said. “Almost cute. Like a pug.”

The creatures also had claws, though they were more humanoid than the big turtles, despite their fur and giant, pointed ears. These people worked in the barns, moving piles of hay and crates of something or other off of various wagons.

“Ugly and really strong. They could be your twin.”

“Ha-ha. Hilarious.”

“At any rate, keep those horns hidden, and don’t let anyone get a good look at your face, and you could pass as either one of them.”

“I dunno. This cloak has a hood, but it’s not gonna hide my snout, man. What’s the harm in them seeing a Minotaur, anyway?”

“It’s a Lost Race. Anything out of the ordinary is notable. We don’t want to be notable.”

“Ah. Gotcha.” Beef reached into a bag he had strapped to his waist and pulled free a long, green cloth. With a few sure movements, he tied it up and over his mouth, effectively hiding his snout and a good portion of his neck. “There. Better?”

“Huh. Yeah. A lot better. Just don’t go into any banks.”

Beef groaned. “That’s a joke my dad would’ve made.”

“Glad you brought it up. Been meaning to tell you about your mom and me—”

“Watch it.”

Archie stopped walking. There was a growl in the kid’s voice he had never heard before, and it was accompanied by a dark vibration that was like ice on his spine. When he looked up, the Minotaur stared down at him with real anger.

“Don’t talk about my parents. Ever.”

“Uh, sorry. I—”

“Forget it.” Beef stomped ahead. “Let’s keep moving. We’ve got a ways to go.”

Archie stood silent for a while. What the hell was that about? Beef had never gotten angry like that. Not that he’d seen, anyway. It was a joke. Can’t people take a joke anymore?

He hustled to catch up, but for some reason, he felt smaller than ever.

They spotted the town of Morva from half a mile away as the road dropped from higher elevations. Though farmlands surrounded the town, the jungle could not be denied. Tropical plant life surged along every ditch and gully, spreading across fields where those big turtles were busy hacking them back. The stumps of hundreds of trees surrounded the town for at least a hundred yards, but green life swelled among them, and even the walls of the town were covered in vines and bright blue and yellow blossoms.

Decently sized, Archie observed, eyeing their approach. Gate’s kinda narrow, though. Maybe they don’t get a lotta traffic.

The road was basically empty, though Archie admitted that could have been because they were arriving in the late afternoon. Most folks heading into a town like this probably showed up in the morning. He’d seen enough villagers come to Birchstone, produce and homemade wares in hand, looking to sell their goods during the morning market.

Still, tallish wall or not, those vines make it super easy to climb. Are they not worried about that? The fact that Morva had walls meant it was worried about monsters, but the farms were fairly wide open. Could be this place is safer than I thought.

Ahead, a pair of guards lazed against the walls, their simple pikes set to the side. One of them even had their helmet off, revealing a very sweaty middle-aged man. A few folks moved in and out of the gate, unhindered. If that was the extent of it, he’d have marched in without worry—as it stood, his steps slowed as he took in the ornaments above the gate. A half-dozen cages hung from thick chains, each one filled with the slaughtered remains of monsters.

"That's disgusting," Beef whispered. "Why would they do that?"

“A warning, maybe.” Archie licked his lips.

“To visitors or monsters?”

“Yes.”

When the two of them reached the gate, they passed through without issue. Just two travelers making their way across the jungle. Inside the town, it was as overgrown and run down as the road and farms outside. Vines crawled over everything, and knotted trees hung over the streets, wide fronds shading them from the blazing sun. The streets were crowded with people, though most clung to the front of the tavern just inside the gates. It was loud, rowdy, and smelled like stale booze.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Low-Tier stone and wood buildings all around, too. Easy to phase through. Archie smiled to himself. My kinda town.

“Keep your eyes open. Tell me if you see anything unusual.”

Beef’s hood turned this way and that, tracking the crowds that moved around them. “Like what, exactly?”

Archie opened his mouth, ready to snap at the kid, but bit back the words. “Trust your judgment. You’ll know it when you see it.”

“Oh.” Beef frowned and nodded to himself. “Alright. On it.”

They pressed through the thin crowd, and Archie kept his Perception flared as best he could. Though the tavern near the gate was the largest, a number of other inns and bars filled the main street as they pushed farther inward. Many of them looked to be freshly painted, too, as if someone had decided to spruce up the whole area. The smell of sawdust and mortar mingled with the acrid scent of those large yellow blossoms, which were strung across rooftops like decorations.

It was clear that Morva had been a much simpler town until recently. New construction was everywhere, growing as they walked only a half mile from the town’s edge. In the distance, the framework for several large buildings were already erected, with a number of shirtless laborers busy at work. Signs for the new buildings were everywhere, too, posted on street corners and notice boards between storefronts. They were guild halls, at least four of them, though Archie didn’t recognize their names.

Must be local factions. From down south, maybe.

People talked about them constantly, pointing at the scaffolding and muttering in hushed tones. Groups of people garbed in dark jackets strutted around, all of them in a hurry on some task, though not so rushed that they couldn’t flash the badges pinned to their chests. Every group he saw was the same: they talked only among themselves and pushed through the crowds without slowing their stride. They resounded with pride and a bitter contempt, while a wake of fear and resentment rippled among the crowds behind them.

Archie flexed his hands. Self-important and high on their own reputation, they were the kind of people he would have once loved to humble with a quick pickpocket.

Tempting…but a dumb idea. He relaxed his hands. They’re probably only Apprentice Tier. Can’t imagine they’ve anything good on them.

"Do you ever feel like an alien?" Beef asked.

Archie almost tripped before he stared up at the big bull. "What? Where’s this coming from?"

"Just a thing I think about sometimes. I mean, technically we are aliens. We're walking around on a different planet, man."

"So, you're asking if I feel out of place on the giant fantasy world of magic and monsters? Really?"

"No, not… I'm just thinking about some shows I used to watch. About aliens. You know, when I was a little kid and stuff." Beef cleared his throat. "It just made it seem easy for them. Like they just came down to the planet and were like, 'take me to your leader,' and bam, things start moving. Now we gotta skulk around here, looking for clues."

Archie tapped his lips with a finger. "You know, you make a great point. Why not ask?"

"Wait, what?"

Archie walked up to a merchant he’d spotted from farther down the street. She was a Hobgoblin with red skin and bright golden eyes, wearing a dress that was dyed in a gradient between ivory and purple. He caught her eye and made a point of studying the vials and jars set across her table. "Hello there! I saw your stall from across the road, and I just had to come see them. They smell wonderful."

"Good afternoon, gentlemen." The merchant smiled at them and clapped her hands, rattling the many bracelets and bangles around her wrists. "Yes, my incense is second to none! Do you have a personal scent?"

"Can't say that I do."

"You should. A signature scent is a must for any respectable gentleman or lady."

"Intriguing. I noticed quite a few interesting scents on the way in, almost enough to ignore the monster guts hanging from the gates."

"Ah, yes. The work of the guilds." The woman clucked her tongue and picked up two glass bottles, full of what looked like sand. "They sprang up like weeds in the past few months, each eagerly grasping for a piece of Morva's riches."

"Riches?"

She paused in mixing some of the sands together and raised an eyebrow. "For the resources. From the Poison Fields?"

"Sorry, we're new to the area—”

“Poison Fields? Sounds like a cool place," Beef added lamely. Archie shot him a glare.

The merchant clenched her jaw. "They certainly aren't. They burn with invisible fire. To walk the fields is to breathe in certain death."

Archie grimaced. "Sounds dangerous, then. What's worth walking into that?"

"Riches beyond measure.” She lowered her voice. "Materials to make Essence Draughts. Epic rarity Essence Draughts."

Archie whistled. "Those sell for a ton, even when they're Common. No wonder there's so many guilds slobbering after it."

Beef frowned. "Wait, if the Fields are on fire, how are the guilds gathering resources?"

The merchant's expression soured even further, yet before she could answer, the crowd around them rippled. Archie turned, following the flow of people as the crowd bowed, several people dropping to their knees. When the merchant prostrated herself, Archie jabbed Beef in the thigh.

"Get down," he said, before doing the same.

Through the space in the center of the thoroughfare, Archie heard them before he saw anything. A slithering of metal against stone was punctuated by sharp, heavy breaths and the snap of a tongue tasting the air. His eyes widened as giant, wedge-shaped heads rose above the crowd, and two enormous serpents slithered down the thoroughfare. Their scales were like large, flat diamonds gleaming in the jungle sun, and they were easily as big as Pit, but far more colorful.

Knights rode on their back, sat atop custom armored saddles made from what looked like mithril and set with blue gemstones. They, too, were armored in mithril, the silver-green seeming almost plain compared to their mounts—a plainness more than made up for by the ornate design of the lances at their side. They were twenty feet long, though the similarities between them stopped there. One was covered in jagged shapes as if it were fashioned from a spray of ice crystals, while the other was rippling and flowy like flame itself worked out of a dark gray metal.

The armored knights kept going, and the quiet they'd brought went with them. Life and sound returned in their wake.

"Adamants," the merchant spat after they'd passed. "Twinslaves."

"What's their deal?" Archie asked, standing back up.

The merchant started packing up her stuff, vials clinking. "Don't ask, they're more dangerous than the Poison Fields by far. Here, take this." She handed him a small flask of those pungent sands. “A souvenir. Get out of Morva and don't look back. This place is unkind to strangers."

Without another word, the woman left, packs in hand.

"What the heck," Beef said, rubbing at his knees. "This place sucks."

"Tell me about it. We were talking to that lady for at least ten minutes, and zero cutpurses showed up," Archie dusted his hands off. "There’s some low-caliber criminals around here."

"What? Is that why you talked to her? I thought you were looking for information."

"I was.”

“Were you also trying to get pickpocketed?"

Archie tapped the side of his nose. "Second fastest way to the seedy underbelly is to set some bait and see what comes crawling out."

"What's the fastest way then?"

"To walk in head-first. Problem is, we don’t know where to go yet. Here," Archie reached over and adjusted Beef’s belt, hanging his coin purse a bit more obviously on his hip. “Hard to tell with your giant blanket of a cloak, but that’s still a tempting target.”

“I’m not sure I love your plan—”

“The plan is perfect. We just need a better opportunity.” He motioned for Beef to follow him. "C’mon. Thieves get more active in big crowds."

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