With no alarm to wake him up, Zach slept a solid ten hours. When he finally awoke, the sun was just high enough to shine a bright beam of light through the room's single small window.

Wait. My window doesn't get morning sun. It's on the west side of the building.

Zach forced his eyes open and saw the room for what it was: the small room he'd rented at the Hard Fought Rest.

"Alright," he said, feeling very much not alright. "I guess I'm back in fantasy land. That's only mildly terrifying. At least I'm not naked this time."

In fact, he was wearing his stolen farmer clothes again, along with his new non-stolen socks. His pouch of gold was still in his pants pocket where he'd left it. It had seemed safest to keep that on his person, in case someone snuck in during the night.

He had showered right before bed, back in the real world. His hair still felt clean but his clothes didn't smell clean at all. They smelled like they'd been worn through a stressful day and then slept in.

Maybe the inn has a place to wash my clothes, Zach thought. He had already visited the inn's bathroom, which even had running water, but he would rather not wash his clothes in a sink if there was a better option.

I'll ask when I pay for another couple nights. As evidenced by his habit of writing out the month's rent check in advance, Zach liked to have his accommodations secured ahead of time.

He paid the grouchy innkeeper for two more nights, then asked if the inn had somewhere to wash his clothes. Paying the man before annoying him with questions proved to be a good call, because he was almost friendly as he answered.

"Yeah, we've got a washbasin and a drying line out back. It gets good sun too. But no standing in your skivvies while you wait for 'em to dry. We got complaints from the neighbors."

Zach visibly wilted at that. Oh, I hadn't considered that. I guess I need to buy a change of clothes first. He recovered his composure and said, "Thank you. Oh, and do you have anything on your menu that's good for a quick breakfast?"

The man started to gesture at the clearly marked sign over the bar, then thought better of it, since he was dealing with the same idiot who had struggled with the sign before. He sighed and said, "We've got skirlie mash and sausage. Ten Chips."

"That sounds good," Zach said, despite having no idea what 'skirlie mash' was. He paid, then sat at a table. It was surprising how much quieter the place was before the lunch rush. In fact, the calm made the wait for his food feel like forever, though it was actually under ten minutes.

A waiter that Zach hadn't seen before delivered a plate of two sausage links and a big pile of mashed potatoes. On closer inspection, the potatoes had bits of toasted oatmeal mixed throughout. Zach guessed that was the 'skirlie' part of 'skirlie mash', and he was happy to learn that it gave the potatoes a pleasant crunch. The meal was hearty and filling and he scarfed it down quickly.

Then Zach set out on foot for a day of… something. He hadn't thought that far ahead yet. He knew he needed new clothes, but that was it. He did have his mental list of objectives, but he had checked most of them off. The only goals that remained were 'find out how to earn money' and repaying his two debts. Zach had run out of leads on the money one, since he clearly didn't have the magical skills to be a Rider.

I guess I need to gather information then. That'll be my goal for the day.

With that slightly more concrete plan, Zach wandered around the walled city. He soon learned that the city was called New Albion, not to be confused with the Kingdom of New Albion, which included many miles of outlying territory. He kept an eye out for affordable clothes and money making opportunities, and tried to keep an open mind.

Eventually he noticed a covered staircase that zig-zagged up the side of the giant Gwendolyn Wall. The wooden structure was hard to miss, since it was taller than every building around and it stood out against the white marble. There was a helmeted guard standing at the bottom of the stairs, so Zach approached.

"Uh, excuse me. What's it like on top of the wall?" Zach asked. He was curious about whether there were ranged weapons up there, since that would suggest the presence of flying monsters in this fantasy world. Maybe even dragons.

"You can look for yourself," the guard replied. The voice was feminine, but Zach couldn't have known through the helmet and armor. "Just don't get in anyone's way or do something daft like fall off."

"Oh!" Zach was not expecting to be allowed on the wall. "Then I guess I will. Thanks."

The guard waved him past and he began the long ascent to the top of the wall. By the time he reached the top, he fully understood why there weren't any other civilians on the wall: getting up there was a pain in the ass. Zach estimated its height at 12 stories and climbing it was quite the workout.

Once there, he quickly learned two other things: there were indeed some impressive anti-air battlements on the wall, consisting of archery towers and stationary ballistas, and there was an entire mountain range in the distance that he'd never seen before. The mountains were on the opposite side of the city from where he'd first entered, so the massive wall had always blocked his view of them.

He peered across the city, paying little mind to the sprawling and diverse cityscape below. The majestic mountains held all of his attention. They rose quickly from the foothills and were covered with green right up to the treeline, where they became bare stone and dirt. The more Zach looked at them, the more familiar they seemed.

"Wait, is that…?" Zach blurted out as he recognized the most prominent of the peaks, which was dusted in snow despite the season. "Holy crap, I think that's Mount Evans." He sprinted up to the inside edge of the wall and grabbed onto the railing, then stared slack-jawed at the mountains on the other side of the city.

His gaze drifted to the right, following the mountains as they continued far into the distance. "I think those are the Rocky Mountains."

He turned back to the left and looked in the direction he now considered south. He saw another mountain in the distance, distinct from the rest of the mountain range. The way it sat out by itself was unmistakable: it was Pike's Peak.

With a dumbstruck look on his face, Zach said, "I think this is Colorado."

After that major discovery, there was a new entry at the top of Zach's objective list: 'find a map'. He ran down twelve flights of stairs as fast as he dared, waved to the guard, and made his way to the bustling market that was just south of the city's west gate.

Man, knowing cardinal directions again sure is nice. I really took that for granted back home.

He pestered people in the marketplace with questions until he finally found someone that knew where to buy maps. She was an old woman with dozens of beads and crystals woven into her greying hair, but she gave very detailed directions to a cartographer. Zach bought something from her stand in thanks, but he doubted he'd ever get any use out of the little quartz pendant. At only 6 Chips, he wasn't worried.

From there he walked over a mile to the cartographer's store. As he got closer to the center of the city, the other pedestrians' clothes, hairstyles, and even speech got progressively fancier. Actually, more and more of the people were riding in carriages rather than walking.

Zach was regretting not buying nicer clothes before this outing, but he wasn't sure he could even afford the kind of fancy clothing that would suit this part of town. He wasn't alone in his attire, however. Other people in plain clothes hurried from place to place, carrying supplies into fancy shops and loading packages onto carriages. It seemed that clothing quality was a clear indicator of whether a person was part of the working class or the merchant class.

Then he found the cartographer's store. It was in a cozy courtyard area, surrounded by high end clothiers and something that looked like a coffee shop mixed with a country club. A disapproving look from the elegantly dressed waiter at the door told Zach all he needed to know: the poor weren't welcome there.

Zach threw a disapproving look right back at the man, thinking, If this place is actually a magical version of Colorado, I bet coffee has to be imported and is incredibly expensive. And without modern technology, it probably isn't even very tasty.

Zach's destination didn't have any sign or label, but a wide window on the front revealed its contents: dozens and dozens of maps. Zach opened the door and stepped inside. His nose was hit by the scent of paper and ink, but not offensively so.

The shop was narrow, with ceiling-high shelves on every wall. They were deep enough to hold a stack of unfurled maps on each shelf. A skylight high on the south wall was covered by a thin curtain, presumably to allow sunlight to illuminate the room without bleaching the maps.

"Hello?" Zach called out, not too loud. It seemed wrong to disturb the comfortable peace of the shop.

"Yes, hello. I'll be right there," came a voice, soft and fast. Then its owner appeared through a door frame near the back of the shop. It was a short man with wide eyes and wispy blonde hair peeking out from under a floppy red hat.

When he saw Zach he blinked a couple times, then continued his approach. "Yes, how can I help you?" he asked in his soft voice.

Zach tried to stand up straight and proper, then said, "I'd like to buy some maps, and learn about the area. Can you help me?"

The man nodded excitedly. "Oh yes. Please come and sit with me." He gestured to a chair next to a wide square table, then took a seat on the other side. "I'm Nevin, by the way."

Zach introduced himself and sat down, then looked at the map that was already laid flat on the table. It was a very detailed depiction of a few blocks of city streets, nestled in a river bend.

"Oh yes, this is an interesting map," Nevin began unprompted. "It's of the Red River district back before it was rebuilt. This morning a man acted interested in it, right up until I told him that the sewers had been rebuilt as well. I think he wanted to burglarize some wealthy homes." Nevin shook his head. "But enough of that unpleasantness. What kind of maps are you interested in?"

Zach shifted in his seat. "I'm not really sure. I guess landscape ones, rivers and mountains."

The cartographer's eyes twinkled. "Oh yes, you're the adventuring type, I suppose. Now, I don't have many maps of the mountains for obvious reasons, but I have rivers. Oh yes, do I have rivers…"

With that odd remark, Nevin leapt to his feet and zipped over to the east wall where he plucked four maps from their shelves. He returned to the table and laid them out, slightly overlapping. A compass rose drawn on each showed that they were all north-side up from Zach's perspective.

The cartographer pointed at a small circle near the bottom left corner of the top left map. "Well, here we are in New Albion. This map was made after the wall went up, so it's got the whole thing to scale. Very nice."

Before Zach could try to estimate the mentioned scale and how big the walled city actually was, Nevin directed his attention to a river that flowed into the city from the south-east. "This is the Red River, though nothing about it is particularly red and it isn't quite a river. It's not deep enough for boats, but it does look lovely, especially in the spring when the bitter-cherries are in bloom."

Oh, I think that's Cherry Creek back in my world. That should be easy enough to remember: cherry equals red, Zach thought.

Then the map seller pointed far to the south, near the center of the lower map. "This city is called Grotto. It's a bit too close to the mountains for most people's tastes, but it sits along Lone Mountain Creek, which is our nearest access to the majestic Lyria River. She can carry you east through the whole southern half of the kingdom."

As Nevin spoke, his finger followed a meandering line from Grotto out to the rightmost edge of the lower right map. Along the way, the Lyria River was joined by literally hundreds of smaller rivers and creeks, each drawn with remarkable detail.

"Oh, okay," Zach said, feeling a little overwhelmed. Geography was never his strong suit. But he was pretty sure that Lone Mountain was actually Pike's Peak, so maybe Grotto was this world's equivalent to Colorado Springs.

"But the real king of rivers, at least inside our kingdom, is the Righ River." Nevin pointed at a label that said 'Righ' but he pronounced it 'Ree'. Then he continued, "He runs just outside New Albion's western wall and connects all of our northern territory." Like he had done with the Lyria River, he guided Zach's attention along the massive Righ River system that extended all the way out to the east edge of the second map.

Zach raised a finger to pause the lesson. "Um, why are the rivers so much more detailed than the mountains?" Zach was used to topographical maps with elevations and other details, but these maps hardly gave any specifics about the mountains. The Rocky Mountains were barely more than a jagged line running up the west side of the map.

Nevin tilted his head questioningly. "Well, that's because rivers are critical to the kingdom, for crops and trade and bridges. And the mountains are dangerous. Too many monsters, and they're Kobold territory anyway."

"Oh, okay," Zach said. But he didn't fully understand, and he was hung up on the way Nevin had specifically mentioned bridges. These maps don't even have any roads or bridges marked…

Then Zach said, "I don't think I'll need the two eastern maps just yet, but I'm interested in the other two. And a map of the city, if you have one."

Nevin smiled proudly. "Oh yes. Not only do I have one, it was one of the maps I drew myself! Well, I drew the original. A Conjuror creates copies for me." As he spoke, he was already retrieving the city map from a shelf.

He placed a rather detailed map on the table. At a glance, Zach could see labeled roads and landmarks, and there was a key with the map's scale. It didn't have anything so convenient as business names, but it would definitely prove useful.

"Uh, so how much do I owe you for those three maps?" Zach was a little worried that they might be expensive, though Nevin's mention of making copies soothed that concern a bit. The fact that magic had been used to make the copies threw a bit of doubt back into the mix.

"Three Harts each for the river maps, and one for the city." Something in his voice suggested that he thought Zach might not be able to afford them.

Zach's pleasant surprise was plain on his face. He gladly pulled out seven Harts and handed them to man.

Once Nevin had the money, he said, "Oh! Do you have a good way to carry them? I sell carrying cases." He reached under the table and brought out a two-foot-long leather tube with a cap on each end. It had a simple leather strap connected to both ends for easy transport.

"You'll have to roll the maps up, but it's better than folding them or letting them get damaged by the elements. One Hart for the case. My young nephew makes them and he's always so happy when one sells."

Zach smiled at the heartstring-tugging upsell technique. For such a strange and soft-spoken man, this Nevin was a skilled businessman. "Sure. I'll take the case too."

He handed over another Hart and stood up. "I've got to get going, but I'll visit again."

Nevin gently rolled up Zach's maps, put them in the case, and held it out. "Thank you for your business."

After one of those odd wrist-shakes, Zach slung his purchases over his shoulder and left the shop. Behind him, Nevin watched him leave with a slightly puzzled expression on his face, not sure what to make of the unusual, poorly-dressed, casual spending, geographically clueless man.

Outside the shop, a blonde woman in plain clothes eyed Zach with a similar expression. She stepped away from the cartographer's window where she'd been watching, then vanished into an alleyway.