I knew a Hero once. Strong as hell, fast as lightning, fought like a real son of a bitch. Took down the best heavy-armor like it weren't nothing. Kicked shields so hard, they broke. Just the sight of him out there... Gods as my witness: I respected the hell out of that man. Sorry thing that we had to shoot him to death with arrows. -Unknown Mercenary

.....

Knocking is a formality.

As far as I am concerned, a person should knock, then announce themselves, then wait.

This is the proper way, I feel. One of the many rules, scribbled into the contract of society. Knocking, and waiting for a response, is the right way of doing things.

But maybe this world is different, I thought to myself, as the door swung open.

Knocking, not announcing, and then coming inside without bothering to wait for a response. Maybe that's just how they do things here.

If I can describe what happened after this, as anything, I will simply call awkward.

A very awkward few seconds.

Peace Keeper

Guard

?????

They were both the same, so far as [Identify] was concerned. Both Peace Keeper in title, and Guard in Class. They were, though, different outside of these two similarities. One man, one woman, both dressed in leather armor. From the metal chest plate and mace, on the man, to the sword and dagger combination, on the woman's belt. I noted that their helmets were matching, plain and domed steel, with their full face visible. From the strap over their shoulder, to the padded cloth beneath their armguards.

Compared to my worn-in armor, my dagger, and Gregory's knife, I knew that my chances of surviving combat were as close to zero as possible. Unless, of course, both of these Guards happened to have perfectly timed brain-aneurysms, or two very well aimed meteorites just happened to fall from the sky.

Statistically unlikely, but so was getting plucked from one reality and thrown into this another. So statistics, as I once understood them, were potentially a thing of the past.

I had to wonder if they were thinking something similar. With a set of surprised expressions, they stared at me, just as I stared back at them. I saw their eyes glance to my belt, then to my armor, then the woman's hands reach for her sword.

With nothing to lose at that point, I decided to take the diplomatic first move.

"Hello." I said. "Care for some boiled fish?"

Shame, that didn't stop the man from tackling me.

....

In more ways than one, as unpleasant as it is to be thrown to the floor or to have a sword at my throat, I felt quite justified.

My abundance of caution, up until this point, had made me question if I was being a tad ridiculous. On several occasions, I wondered if I was just making my life more difficult. Intrusive thoughts like "What harm could truly come to me, if I went to town and introduced myself" or "Maybe the Summoned Hero title isn't all that big a deal, now that I'm no longer in the Empire."

"HOW MANY MORE OF YOU ARE THERE?" The large Guard shouted, as I was slammed down against the floor. "ANSWER ME!"

Ah, how nice it was to finally be right about something.

"I've got his weapons." The woman said, crouching for a moment to pull my most prized possessions away, and kick them across the room.

"ANSWER ME, YOU IMPERIAL DOG!"

"It's just me! There isn't anyone else-" He slammed me to the ground, mid-response.

It was bad enough to have spots in my vision. Whatever his strength was, I just knew it was a lot more than mine. A fact, repeatedly proven, as he yanked my arms behind my back and began to bind them with cloth.

Diplomacy had utterly failed me, it seemed. I remember thinking it was a shame that there wasn't an Attribute in this world for Charisma.

"He's got Empire-style armor." The woman noted, as the man hoisted me to my knees. "Looks old, though. Junk."

"Bastard's got no Class." The man growled. "What kind of Hero doesn't have a Class?"

"I don't suppose we-"

Opening my mouth again was a mistake, as the man shoved cloth into it.

"Should we kill him?"

Wow, I really didn't like where this was going.

"No." Thankfully, the woman interceded on my behalf, returning her sword to the sheath on her belt. "Not yet."

That little bit at the end there had me a bit less thankful, but I had a few moments of peace as she continued to check about the shack. Carefully, she searched the place, rummaging through what little she could find.

"Just some herbs... some food. No other weapons, unless you count this stick." She sneered at my walking staff. "This supposed to be a spear?"

"Townfolk said he was with the fisherman."

"Shipwreck survivor, maybe?"

"Maybe."

The woman frowned at me.

"Not sure what you think you're doing here, Hero, but people around these parts don't take kindly to Empire soldiers." She said.

"Mrrrf, mrrrfrrr." I replied.

"Shut it." Yanking me to my feet, the man shoved me forward, stumbling out the door of the shack to fall in the dirt. "Try and run, I'll bash your skull in." He stated, walking out after me. "Now, get up and start walking. The Baron is going to want a word with you."

He kicked me once, as I struggled to get up, before the woman dragged me to my feet again.

"Get a move on." She said, pushing me towards the direction of the trail.

I complied.

Ah yes, I thought to myself. This was off to a wonderful start.