“For all that I have seen so far, this world is much like our own. There are forests, rivers, birds, and bees. Plants and creatures exist here, different but similar in make to the ones we are familiar with. After passing the forest, I came across an unending ocean of grass and hilly plains that reminded me of the Arathi Highlands, minus the marauding troll bands and packs of hungry raptors. I later learned the people of this land call it Thedas, and the country I had stepped into as Ferelden.”

From the Journal of Eratus Riverwood.

“Knight-Lieutenant Riverwood. There is a single entity, consisting of two lifeforms, rapidly approaching our location.”

“I know,” I mouthed as the “entity”, a horse-cart full of supplies steered by a man, wheeled past us. “It is not a threat.”

“Understood. I will store such information in my memory banks for future notice.”

Judging by the number of times Del had pinged me every time something new or different popped up on the road, he was going to be storing a lot of “information” for some time. Lorekeeper of human society he certainly was not.

It only made sense that we would find other travelers along the road. That was what roads were used for after all. Travelling. Back in Azeroth you would find peddlers, merchants, soldiers, and refugees. Maybe the occasional odd gnomish contraption and, even rarer, an elven hawkstrider. Every so often you’d see the shadows of gryphons and their riders flying above, journeying from city to city to deliver parcels and mail. Occasionally dropping unpleasant white packages of shit on oblivious travelers.

However, now, there was nothing but humans. No flying griffons. No elven hawkstriders. No noisy gnomish machinery.

There was a theme to them. Clothes that looked worse for wear. Families. Carts full of things that looked less like trade goods and more like household items. The solemn, distraught faces on everyone save the children, who were probably too young to give a care.

The same faces, the same things I saw from passing refugees escaping the civil wars that ravaged the cities of Alterac and Stromgarde. I wondered what calamity had befallen the people here.

Nevertheless, it kept me on edge. I kept a hand on the hilt of my sword. Not that I had anything for people to steal, but pickpockets and thieves were common issues in such conditions. I also had Del use his “scanning” ability to get a read on a few of the folks, so I could get a judge of how great of a threat they posed. The result was: not so much.

Still, it seemed they were more scared of me than I was of them. Everyone seemed to give me a wide berth when they passed by. I could feel the glances thrown in my direction. It became obvious the moment I stopped to get water from a nearby stream and got a good look of my reflection. My eyes were bloodshot from days of labor and poor sleep. My hair was a jumbled mess. I was sporting a week’s growth of hair that was barely starting to resemble a mustache and beard. I couldn’t smell myself but given that it had been several days since my last shower, it probably wasn’t too pleasant. My clothes, which consisted of standard-issue Alliance linen pants and a shirt, were nicked and torn everywhere. I looked like a madman, an armed madman. It was no wonder they were all avoiding me.

I couldn’t blame them. I was tired. I needed a bath and not just a dip in the river. I needed new clothes, and a room to sleep in. A bed was optional, I just wanted to not wake up freezing cold every morning. I wanted real food. Light knows what the people of this world considered food but they must have some kind of warm meal. The fish and berries were good but I was tired of foraging for it every single day, and hunting was never my forte. The problem was I hadn’t the scant idea of going about finding that.

My thoughts were interrupted by cranking wheels approaching from behind, and the loud cries of an infant.

“Knight-Lieutenant Riverwood. There is a single entity, consisting of five lifeforms, rapidly approaching our location.”

“I know…”

The cart hauled by a horse pulled up, a family of five on top. Judging by their clean clothes and the piles of boxes, another set of victims of circumstance. Though the cart and animals indicated they were probably better off. Two of the children perked their heads from the side of the cart, eyeing me with curiosity. Their mother was distracted, trying to comfort a baby wrapped in her arms.

They had dirt smeared on their faces, but otherwise looked in good health. A part of me wanted to ask if I could hitch a ride. My feet chafed against the leather soles of my boots and they seemed to be heading in the same direction. As if it sensed my thoughts, a dog perked its head up by the children. The pug-nosed animal was enormous, almost as big as some of the direwolves in Northshire. It growled in my direction, warning me off.

I sighed. So much for any sort of friendly reception. At least it wasn’t raining.

The wagon passed by and so did some more time. I was too tired to think of anything else when I heard something approach from behind. Boots landing beneath mud, horses whinnying, and the clanks of metal against metal.

“Knight-Lieutenant Riverwood. Multiple entities rapidly approaching our location.”

“I know… Look you don’t have to bother me unless they are a threat.”

“Make way for the Bann!” a voice boomed.

“Understood.”

I turned around to see a procession of armored men on horseback, pushing everyone else off the road. I stepped to the side.

Two men atop gray stallions brushed past me, each carrying a green flag with a golden bird inscribed upon it. They wore plate armor around their entire body, with the exception of a small slit across the head for their eyes. Judging by the sheen, or lack thereof really, the armor was of ordinary steel. My eyes drifted to the weak spots around the armpits, noting the soldiers wore chain-linked mail below the plate.

The men took no notice of me and were followed by a carriage led by twin horses. I couldn’t see who was in the wagon but judging by the ornate golden decorations inscribed onto the carriage, they had to be well off. Even in this world there were the haves and have-nots. Perhaps some form of aristocrat.

Once the procession passed by, I stepped back onto the road. I slowed my pace, just a tiny bit. The further I was from any kind of nobility and their attitudes, the better. I assumed I wouldn’t find much differences in this new world from mine.

Time passed and more people appeared on the roads. Some of them were talking to each other. Farmers or artisans, talking about the quality of their goods, when the next rain season would be, or about their wives or children or cousins or neighbors. I even overheard a few grumbles about taxes. Some things were just universal. Most of it was mundane and I would have normally filtered it out as background noise. Instead, while my eyes drifted along the road, I listened closely. Singlepipe, among the best at getting the lay of the land and how people worked, said the best way to gather intelligence was to keep your ears to the ground and listen to the common folks. There were gems if one paid attention.

“Have you seen the number of people on the roads lately?” said an old woman. “It looks like the famine is hitting harder than ever.”

“Indeed,” said a younger one. “The Orlesians salted my sister’s farm near Redcliffe during the war. Nobody has been able to plant a full harvest for nearly twenty years, and the draught only made things worse.”

Famine. That was a word I didn’t’ hear too often back home. Well, that explained the gaunt look on everyone’s faces.

The older woman shook her head. “It is worse at Denerim. I hear even the Chantry there is packed to the brim with starving mouths.”

“Those poor souls,” the younger one replied. “I feel blessed by the Maker that my family is doing well enough. I should make a prayer at the rock of Andraste.”

The Maker. Flemeth mentioned him in her riddle. I made a mental note of him and this Andraste they were talking about. The woman’s conversation devolved into familial gossip after that.

Then something between two men perked my interest. I slowed my pace down to theirs to listen.

“Why’d you quit being a guard anyway?”

“Cause there was nothing to do and lousy pay. Lothering doesn’t pay enough to deal with all them problems they have down there.”

“Eh, fair enough. I hear the Bann there has always been snippy with coin.”

“Yea, that’s why I’m headed to Denerim. Word is the Blackstone Irregulars be looking for new joiners.”

“The sellswords? Don’t they go about doing all the dangerous work? What’s so different about what they do and the guard?”

“Pay is better. I knew one who joined up near Redcliffe. We did the same shit, but he lives large and I live small. Figures, I should be livin’ large too. You should join in.”

“Nah, I’m not feelin’ being a sellsword. I got a family to take care of and my wife would fry me knockers off if I did that.”

“Eh, suit yourself, anyway what about…”

Mercenary work. Seemed like an easy way to earn some coin.

And yet I resisted the thought. Fighting for coin just rubbed me the wrong way and the profession just seemed to attract a bad crowd. The Alliance used them, even called them “adventurers” to make the work sound less cut-throat and a bit more noble, not that it fooled anyone.

Still, I was going to have to find a way home, but I wasn’t planning on doing it while living in the wilderness. I wanted a solid roof over my head, food to eat, something other than pond water to drink, and a few other comforts. For that I needed money.

The rest of the trip involved listening in on familial gossip and the latest misfortunes of envious neighbors. Finally, after crossing a hill, Denerim came into view.

A part of me was expecting to see something completely off the cuff. It didn’t expect this world to mirror my own. Humans might live in something along the lines of the wooden forts used by orcs, or maybe a large temple in the manner of the forest trolls.

It was a relief then when I actually saw the familiar sight of a city, a large one at that.

All the tell-tale signs of a human city too. Stone walls that surrounded the entire settlement. A massive square that had to have been a marketplace of some kind. There was even a section of large, ornate buildings of an obscure architecture that had to have been where the wealthy and powerful lived. Contrasted by a slurry of more modest homes surrounding them.

Besides that, there were also tents outside the walls, entire hosts of them. There was a massive keep that jutted out in the southwest by the mountainside, towering over everything else and would have rivaled some of the mage towers I saw in Dalaran. The sea covered the city’s eastern border, ships with large sails, drifting in an out of several dockyards.

It caught my eye because of all the glaring weaknesses. The way the city was built flew against everything I had learned about siege warfare. Even from the distance I could tell from the collage of brown that most of the buildings were made of wood. It was one of the reasons why Stormwind, Stromgarde, Lordearon, Gilneas, all human cities I knew were built from stone. Otherwise, one magical firestorm or a few infernals and everything would turn into kindle. No layered walled defenses either; one breach to the outer wall with cannons or a siege weapon and the entire city was open to be taken. No ballistae or nets around the walls either to keep gryphons from assaulting from above.

I snapped out of the mental wargaming and followed the road to the gates. As I got closer, I got a clearer picture of the tents camped outside. What I thought was some military encampment turned out to be a hodgepodge of desperate people.

The air reeked of horrible hygiene. It must be bad if I, who hadn’t cleaned in well over a week, could smell it. Downtrodden faces on everyone but the children, who were probably too innocent and naïve to care more. I was reminded of the dire situation described by the two women from earlier. If it was this bad outside the city, I wondered how much worse it was within.

“Knight-Lieutenant Riverwood. My sensors have detected the profile of lifeforms that have indicated hostile behavior in the past.”

“What? Where?” I mouthed.

“To your right.”

I looked and, in the distance, I noticed a crowd of men, women, and children. In the center, were several figures in familiar suits of armor, emblazoned with a flaming sword on their breastplates. Templars. They held their hands back, pushing the crowd back as women dressed in red and white gowns passed out bread from a cart.

My stomach grumbled; however, I had no intention of drawing their attention toward me for the time being. I passed by them.

It got louder and more crowded as we got closer to the gate. Up ahead, men wearing green and yellow sashes were inspecting people and their cargo by the entrance.

I wondered if I was carrying anything that would draw someone’s attention. Everything I had could be easily explained. Well, except the vials full of blue liquid. Actually, that might have been a bit suspicious. It didn’t matter though. At this point, best just to pretend like everything was normal.

I finally reached the gate and was about to try and slip through when someone raised their hand in front of me.

“Hold it,” the guard said. He was a skinny weasel-like man who stood a head higher than me. He smirked. He seemed the type to get a kick out of telling people what to do.

“You look a bit rough around the edges,” he said. “What brings you to the city?”

“Work,” I said honestly.

“Work? What type?”

“Mercenary. Sellsword.” That sounded reasonable.

The man took a closer look at me, almost as if I was worth the trouble of searching. His nose twitched. I guess I smelled far worse than I thought.

“Carry on then, though stay out of trouble.” He waved me off. I passed by him and the gates.

I arrived at an intersection. There was a noticeable and palpable difference in atmosphere here than outside the walls. Donkeys and horses hauling carts full of wares. People bustling from place to place. Hundreds of conversations that devolved into noise, yet carried with it a sense of excitement and optimism. Standing there, among the shifting crowds I felt the same way when I arrived at Stormwind City years ago as nothing but another country bumpkin. The possibilities here were endless, to the point of being nauseating.

That was me years ago though, a lot had changed since then. I had my priorities. Get some money, find shelter, sleep, then figure everything out from there. That meant mercenary work, and if the men from earlier were right, I had to go to the marketplace.

The road ahead split into four ways, with no clear sign as to where the marketplace was. With no real direction I picked a road then began walking. I had patrolled the winding roads of Alterac City without issue. It couldn’t be too hard to navigate my way here.

It was impossible to navigate this city.

“Knight-Lieutenant Riverwood. We appear to have reached another impasse.”

“I know!”

We were standing in front of another building, another dead end. I thought there would be at least some kind of main road, so I just followed the flow of people and carts. However, the roads winded off into different directions without rhyme or reason and so did the traffic. It was well into the afternoon and we still hadn’t reached the first energy source Del had found.

The cobblestone roads were wearing away at my boots and feet. Sweat trickled down my chin. How did people even manage to find their way through this twisting maze?

“Please ser, spare some coin?” an elf said, lifting his hands and eyes in my direction from the roadside.

“Sorry,” I said, going on my way and the fifth time I had turned down an elven beggar. I had just come to terms with the concept of a city elf. Elves living like forest nomads were one thing. Them living like paupers? Alamere would have had a fit of epic proportions if he had witnessed such a sight.

There was something more tangibly nauseating than the air of excitement in this city and that was the air itself. There was garbage and litter everywhere. More often than one I saw people throw their junk into the streetside. Stormwind was bad but this was so much worse.

I stopped at another intersection. Did I turn left here before? The buildings here were all variations of white and brown. Like the last three intersections.

“Knight-Lieutenant Riverwood. We have attempted this path before.”

“Which ones?”

“All of them.”

“Damn it, I swear…”

Someone shrieked. The other folks on the road didn’t mind it, but it sounded like a cry for help. For better or for worse, or maybe I was just tired of wandering around lost, I decided to investigate. I followed the direction of the sound; it came from behind one of the buildings. As I got closer, I began to hear voices.

“Get your hands off me!”

“Come on… we just want some fun!”

I turned the corner to witness the sight of three burly-looking men cornering a red-headed woman against a wall. She had a knife out, more a kitchen utensil than a dagger. Below her was a basket, tipped onto the side with several multi-colored fruits that had been spilled onto the ground.

A man picked one up and took a bite. “Mhm… ,” he said while chewing. “That’s pretty sweet.”

“Hey! Back off, shem!” she lunged forward with the knife. The man backed away, and the lunge went wide. “O-ho,” one of the other men said. “Looks like we have a spicy one here.”

“I wonder if she’ll taste as sweet as that apple,” the third man said.

“You touch me, I gut you,” she said, trying to sweep the remaining fruits beneath her skirt. The men began to close in. I knew what was going to happen next and I wasn’t about to abide by it.

“A-hem,” I said.

The men turned their attention toward me.

“What do you want?” one asked.

“Me? Nothing,” I said. “But it looks like the girl over there wants you lot to leave her be. I suggest you do so.”

“Or else what?”

“Hostile intent detected from three lifeforms….”

“Else I’ll have to resort to force.” I gripped the pommel of my sword. “And it won’t be pleasant.”

“Boss,” one of the men said. “He’s armed.”

The lead man, the one I assumed to be the boss eyed the weapon then pursed his lips.

“Fine,” he said. “Have the donkey-ear if you want. Come on lads.”

The three of them stepped away then disappeared into one of the alleyways.

I sighed. Everything went better than expected.

“Knight-Lieutenant Riverwood. It appears that you have willingly chosen to instigate hostilities with these lifeforms. I am unable to determine how such actions would bring us closer to our goals.”

Apparently, empathy was a concept completely foreign to Del as well.

“Look it’s… complicated,” I mouthed. “I’ll explain later.”

“Understood… I have stored this conversation in my memory banks for future notice.”

Another problem for another time. I looked toward the woman. The thug’s comment drew me to take a closer look at her ears, and I realized she was an elf.

She had her knife towards me now, with a noticeable shake. The same defiant look she gave to the thugs was still there, but now with a slight hint of fear. Then I realized she was staring at the sword. I still had my hand on the pommel.

I released the grip; it was meant to scare off the thugs, not her.

“I mean you no harm,” I said.

No response.

“I simply didn’t want to watch you get hurt. I will be on my way now.” I bowed my head and turned.

“Wait!” she said.

I stopped and looked back.

“T-Thank you,” she said, lowering her knife.

“No problem.” I looked again at the empty basket and the fruits spread across the ground. “You need help with picking those up?”

“Um… sure,” she said.

“No worries,” I said and took a step closer. I saw her turn head away and her nose twitch.

“Sorry,” I said, apologizing for the odor.

“It-It’s okay.”

We spent some time putting the fruits back into the basket.

“Thank you again,” she said, with a smile this time.

“Again, no worries. Just be careful out here. I have a feeling there are more where those men came from.”

“I know. It’s just… this path is usually empty. Fastest way back to the alienage back from the marketplace.”

So she knew where the marketplace was. She got up, holding the basket by her hip.

“Well, it is rare to find a human willing to give a copper about an elf. I best get home though. What about you?”

“The marketplace actually. I could use some help with a bit of directions if you don’t mind.”

“Oh, that won’t be a trouble at all. Though… it isn’t so easy to just point out the direction. But I still have some time, so I could show you the way. Least I can do after you helped my with those louts.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

My nerves were on edge, and partially regretting my decision to have the elf lead me. The roads here were too narrow, and the buildings were too close together. Everything here reminded me of my patrols at Alterac City. We were ripe for an ambush.

I was surprised someone as seemingly… defenseless as her would wander these corridors without a trace of fear. My hands gripped the handle on my sword and I was hyper aware of every little sound. My eyes scanned the roofs above and I felt my stomach tense every time we turned a corner.

“So where are you from and what brings you to this shithole?” she asked.

“An… accident.”

“An accident?”

“Yes. I was… traveling. It’s a… long story. Got stranded near the city. Just trying to get home now.”

“Really? That sounds terrible! Even worse, given that you are stuck here of all places.”

“Well...” The thought dredged up memories. Funneling through orc hideouts in the mountains, fighting the brutes in freezing blizzards. Forests where behind every tree there was a troll that was happy to gut you up from head to toe. Or being caged by a pack of nomadic elves then be sold off like chattel.

“It could always be worse.” We turned another corner, my stomach tensed as we passed.

“That’s because you’re a human. Still, I suppose there is plenty here. More and more elves arrive from the freeholds every day. From what I hear it is getting bad out there.”

I thought back to all the tents assembled outside the city.

“Why are elves treated so poorly?” I asked.

She laughed. “That is the first time a human ever asked that.”

“Sorry.”

“No… you don’t have to be. Honestly, I thought the same too when my uncle brought me here. Took me a while to get used to it but despite everything, it isn’t all doom and gloom.”

“It is different where I come from.”

“How so?”

What was the best way to describe it? In Stormwind, the elves had their own quarters in the city’s most expensive and lofty district, by the mage’s district and royal park. Even in the Badlands, Alamere had his own quarters, a luxury reserved only for ranking officers or the privileged. The rich and powerful had high demands for their services which was sometimes their mere presence. They were universally respected in any of the major human settlements and kingdoms.

“They are treated just like everyone else.”

“Truly?”

“Yes.”

There was a momentary pause as we exited the narrow passageways and onto a wider street with the familiar human traffic and moving goods. I breathed a little easier and relaxed enough to take the grip off my sword.

“It sounds like a lovely place to be,” she said. “What is it called?”

“I doubt you heard of it. It is Azeroth.”

“Azeroth. You’re right I never heard of it. It rolls off the tongue easy though. Azeroth… And the elves there, do they like it there?”

I thought about the first time I saw Silvermoon City. The vast smooth architecture that seemed to shine in the sunlight. Elves striding by in brilliant yet comfortable-looking clothes, seemingly indifferent to all the pain and horrors from the rest of the world.

“They do, though they prefer the company of their own.”

“That does sound like us,” she said. “Although for me, I would only include my uncle, aunt, and two cousins. Few would admit it but even we have some bad turnips among the batch.”

“Bad turnip?”

“Oh, I just meant not all of us are good.”

We stopped as the road opened up into a bustling space. People and cargo moved between rows and rows of stalls and stores, filled with folk selling their goods. Some were simple wooden stands and enormous tents the size of houses.

“And here we are!” she said. “I need to get home, Auntie Adaia is probably worried since I haven’t returned, but it was fun talking! Speaking of which, I never got your name.”

I hesitated.

“Eratus,” I finally said.

“Eratus? I’m bad with names but I’ll remember that. I’m Shianni, by the way.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Stay safe on the roads, don’t take any shortcuts.”

She laughed. “Will do, have a safe journey!” She turned, skipping down the road.