Extra long chapter for you guys, I might have missed some typos.

Book 1: Ch 10

We waited for an hour but our two guests didn’t loop around and ambushed us. Man, this paranoia might be keeping us alive so far but it's really costing us some effort.

I briefed Nick as to where I’m going to go and then made my preparations. I then shed my clothes and changed to the local equivalent, a knee length tunic, a pair of long trousers, and a crudely build pair shoes made of leather. The tunic didn’t have pockets sewn in it, same with the trousers and this forced me to use pouches that hung on my leather belt. Wearing it is unfamiliar as hell and very awkward as it keeps flopping around every time I move.

I tried moving some more and the pouch jingled. It was filled with United States junk silver coins along with ‘repurposed’ coins we just happened to pick up in a recently attacked bandit camp. Between the four of us, our junk coins collectively weigh around five pounds as it is a given between us to always carry hard currency as a backup. You know, just in case of emergencies, like this one in particular.

I then gathered all my gear and laid them on an uncluttered corner of the house and reached for one of the rifles we captured and is ‘repurposed’ for the betterment of everybody. It was and old Mosin-Nagant, same model with Sydell and had the age-old two point sling still installed on it.

The wood finish on it still looked pretty good and I could see some rust spots in places on the barrel along with the receiver. The barrel and the mechanisms inside are still good when we checked it which is the reason we took it with us.

At least taking this instead of my usual rifle wouldn’t attract too much attention to me.

“You look really good in that peasant garb.” Ron grumbled in a sleepy voice.

“You're dreaming Ron, go back to sleep.” I said as I stepped over his lying figure and I could feel blood rushing to my ears as I got out.

Stepping out, I spotted Nick sitting on a bench by the fire. He had a steaming bowl held up to his mouth and he looked to be enjoying it. “Hey Nick!, Were setting out.” I yelled before turning down the trail leading away from the hut carrying a bag filled with provisions as we walked to our destination.

Around four hours later, we came upon a fenced property resembling the features of a farm. It didn’t look anything like the farms I’m used to but that’s just me. We then followed the fence until we got to a dirt road leading inside and went in. fields of vegetables and crops dominated the area with the farmhouse in the center of all of it. A barn was next to the house and inside, I could see some sheep, cows, along with some sturdy horses lazing around through the partially open barn door.

A stout old man peeked out the farmhouse and looked at us with suspicion, he had the half of his body shown as he slowly got out. He then smiled and yelled some cheerful sounding words as he recognized Sydell. I’m sure the guns hanging off our shoulders have contributed a lot on his suspicions but I guess the mere sight of someone he knew was enough to dispel all of it.

He then cheerfully waved us in and we followed, stamping our mud covered boots outside and hanging our rifles by the door. The old man seemed to appreciate the gesture as he smiled and had us sat down by the central fire and called to someone on the other room, probably to get us some beer or at least the local equivalent.

Sydell and the old man were talking in their language which left me with nothing to do but look around and admire the interior design of the house. A clean looking sword hung above the main door, a longbow and a quiver lay behind it, cloves of garlic hung on strings along with some vegetables and herbs and meat was hung to dry above the firepit and a pot is placed above the fire. Wooden mugs and pitchers were laid above the table on the other side of the room, along with wooden spoons and wooden plates.

My gaze then wandered to the door to which the old man shouted to and then a person holding a tray filled with cups and a pitcher came in. I was startled and recoiled, my hand instinctively shot for my pistol in its holster, concealed under the tunic I wore. The person, if I even could call it that, had long pointed ears along with long pointed noses, tusk protruded from his lower jaw and shined under the firelight. It was fucking ugly and the last time I’ve seen someone that could be comparable, I shot him. Three of them actually.

Catching myself and my reaction to my host, I gave a guilty smile and bowed while saying “Sorry”.

“What are you sorry for, son?” he asked in a weird British accent. I was surprised at first, then I remembered that meeting this person was the reason we were here in the first place.

“I am sorry about reacting to your assistant in a disgraceful manner.” I said, being polite.

The old man sent a glance to the one in question and chuckled. “Oh, don’t worry. New guests usually react the same way you did. However, aren’t you sorry that you are about to draw a weapon in my house?” he asked with squinted eyes.

So he caught that. “I’m, sorry. I usually had it hidden so well that even I forget that it was there. Even though I always carry it with me.” I said, reaching back into my tunic and slowly drawing my pistol. This is his place and he at least deserves to know this much in his home. I then pulled it out of my tunic but it then snagged on the cloth itself and forcing me to use both hands just to take it out.

That was bad. If I was in a real dangerous situation, I might have fucked the drawing part and died. Still, I guess this is another thing to be thankful for, having a chance to test out my set up and find the bugs.

I then held it up for everyone to see and laid it on my lap. “This weapon had already saved my life once, and I am very thankful I had it the moment I needed it.” the matte black color of the glock-17 seemed to absorb all the firelight coming at it. Even sitting at my lap, it looked deadly.

The old man looked at the gun for a while and smiled, “No worries, for I usually keep one for myself too.” he said. His right hand then reached inside his left sleeve and came out with a thin bladed knife. The blade glinted in the firelight in contrast to my own and he too, placed it on his lap.

“This one have saved my life three times back when I was still young and roaming the land. Now living as a farmer, I don’t have a need for it anymore but I still always keep it there as a habit and as a reminder of how I’ve lived my life.” the old man said as he leaned forward. “Sydell, here says that you’ve come from a land far away and wishes to learn our language for the three of you to live among the people. Is this correct?”

“Yes.”

The old man grunted. “I too came from a place far away from here, I’ve traveled far distances and seen many lands. Having the ability to live on a land depends most in the ability to speak the local language. Having experienced it a lot, I understand your problems. So I accept in exchange of having to live in here as a farm hand. You see, I’m not as strong as I used to anymore.” he said.

I smiled and gave a mental fist-pump. Having to work in a farm wouldn’t be bad, besides, having to be surrounded by people speaking the language by being taught would accelerate your learning as you would be using whatever you’ve learned 24/7.

“However,” the old man continued I would like to know the place you’ve came from, as this language we are talking in, are only spoken by the Goblin tribes in their homeland, far away.” he said as he leaned back, crossed his arms and looked at me like a predator.

I gulped as I met his gaze, doing my best as to not flash a glance to my pistol. This old man is dangerous, and I could tell that just by his presence. He gives off a domineering aura and his eyes show a person who has live his life in violence. All that and the fact that I’ve never expected to be asked a question like this forced me no other choice but to tell the truth.

“We came from a county called The United states, on a planet called Earth. We have no idea of how we got here, and we don’t know of a way of coming back.” I answered.

“You're from another world. That explains this.” he said pointing at my Glock. The old man then declared. “Now that truth have all been laid bare, it is my turn to introduce myself. My name is Hues, and call me old man Hues. I used to be a thief, a bandit, and soldier. I’ve gained and lost friends throughout my life and I am now a farmer living the rest of his life in peace as my spirit now tire of violence.” he then winked at me urging me to do the same.

I scratched my cheek, thinking of what to say. Shit, when in Rome. “My name is Adrian, I used to live back in Earth as an engineer” I paused thinking of the proper word, “A craftsman, a tinker. I prepared myself to be very proficient at delivering violence but I hated it. I hated violence. Now in this new world I found myself in with no way of going back, and I am forced to do the thing I hate but also one of the things I am good at. I hate it, but I will not hesitate when the time comes that need it.” I said.

Everyone in the room was silent, there was no sound heard save for the crackling of the fire and the breathing of everyone inside. Sydell had his head bowed, while the old man was nodding, and the ugly one in the corner stood still where he is. “Well said.” old man hues grunted, “Well said, know that this place is a safe one and you, along with your group, are welcome to stay. I agree with your sentiment, It is not wrong to hate violence, but it is a sin to deny it.”

“Thanks, old man.” I said.

“Enough of that!” the old man declared with a clap “One of the ways I’ve learned to cope up with the problems like yours is to drown them with a waves of strong drinks.” he said as his helpers put a table in front of us and placed cups and pitchers.

“Sorry old man, but I can’t afford to get drunk today as I still have to get back and tell the others.” I said with an apologetic smile.

The old man’s cheerfulness swiftly deflated as i said that and he muttered, “I see, shame.” then brightened up again. “Well do tell your friends that I’d like to meet them too. The words the more the merrier is especially true when drinking with friends.” he said.

I smiled and took one of the filled cups and raised it. “I’ll make sure to do that. Cheers.”

“Cheers”

After that, we left the provisions we brought to the old man as a visiting gift as it is more of a true expression of gratitude than mere custom.

We left the farm with a cheerful old man waving behind us. He looked to be really happy about our visit, and he reminded me of my own grandpa whenever I came to visit back when I was a kid. I smiled and waved back, then noticed his midget helper peeking beside the door.

“That small one, he’s not a human isn’t he?” I asked Sydell who is walking beside me. We have now left the farm and went off the dirt road leading in and back the way we came.

“No. Goblin.” he replied. “They live place far away. I want like old man, travel far.”

I nodded, “Is that why you try to learn different languages?”

“Yes”

“Why?”

“I want see the world. Make name myself. Get known. Get rich. Get land. For me and brother.” he said, his eyes glinted as if looking at a place far away. “I make me strong, be part of new village. Maybe lead it. Now, I follow you and Ron and Nick.”

We were now travelling in one of the many thick parts of the forest, forcing us to bend over branches, step over fallen logs and travel through the thick vegetation. The last part of what Sydell said, still kept itself on the back of my mind and I keep flashing a glance towards him, along with the rifle hanging on his back.

Follow us, huh. I guess that rifle explains itself well. In one of the documentaries I’ve seen about the Middle East, the concept of a warlord flashed in my mind. A person giving another able bodied man a weapon would mean that the person given would serve as a fighter under the giver. The giver would handle the supply while the fighter does what his name states. It's a part of their culture dating back from the middle ages. Europeans have their own form too, and it evolved through time to be called knighthood. Hell, I could be wrong, I am just a civilian after all.

Looking at the rifle hanging off on his shoulder, I guess it resembles enough to be called it that. I'd have to ask Ron about what he was thinking when he gave it to him when we get back.

The sun had already set but its rays from behind the horizon still gives enough diffusion to see the path home. The fire under the pot is still burning slowly and I could see Cyril walking around the camp with the aid of a pair of crutches. He shouted his greeting and waves as he saw us and Sydell ran up to him to assist him on getting inside.

It had just been a day but Cyril is already on his feet. What a tough kid. Kids his age back at ours would be screaming for opioids to take away the pain.

Just as the two went inside the hut, Ron came out of the corner and stopped on his tracks “Holy shit! Look at you!” he called out then pulled out his phone to snap a picture. He was grinning as he looked at the screen and even after he put it away. “Man, you look so weird wearing that. It’s almost as ugly as you look.” he said.

“Haven’t you been keeping up on the latest fashion? It’s all the rage now.” I replied, holding up my hands and giving a twirl. “You better get used to it fast because soon you will be trading your clothes for these duds.”

“I bet. And when that day comes, it will be the day I mourn the days of me dressing smart, it’s not like you would.” Ron said. “Come on, let’s go take and early dinner so we could sleep early. Every hour we get makes us ever more beautiful, and you look like you need every minute you could get.”

I rolled my eyes “Whatever man, just lead the way.” I said and followed.

We got to the fire and found Nick already seated there. He then looked up “Sup.” he greeted and offered a fistbump. I returned it and sat with them by the fire. “God, all this walking between two points just makes me miss driving. My feet hurts and I’m all tired, doing all this just to come home to see you motherfuckers doesn’t make it feel all worth it.”

“You're lying bro. I bet you enjoyed every second of your walk with your boyfriend.” Nick retorted and the three of us chuckled.

“How’s the trip, Nick said you went to visit some farmer, and I assume he did some plowing?” Ron grinning as he filled a bowl with stew from the pot and handed it to me.

“Yup, and he offered to teach us the local language in exchange with working on his farm. Before going, I might want to warn you that there’s an ugly midget living with him called a Goblin. Looked a lot like the three who welcomed us here except smaller.” I answered as I took the bowl. “How about you bro. I’d want to ask about the rifle you happen to give to Sydell. He almost talks like we own him now.”

Ron grinned at that. “We do. We saved his life along with his brother, we also gave him months’ worth of food and a powerful weapon for himself. Yes, we do own him, along with his brother.” he then held up his hand to stop me from talking, “Our cultures are different bro, and we cannot use our own as a measuring stick against theirs. This might seem like an extremely evil thing to do in our society, but in theirs, owing your life to somebody is the greatest form of burden to have. They are very grateful to us and is very willing to serve under us as payment, seeing as we needed the added manpower so badly, it was an offer I couldn't refuse.”

“Dude. You were here the same time as I am. Why the fuck should I believe you?”

“Adrian,” Ron said in a low voice, “I could talk in five different languages, I own a fucking business involving with a lot of people. Talking in a language isn’t the only form of communication, and I consider myself informed in reading along with projecting nonverbal comms. Of all the multitude of people I’ve met, I could confirm that it’s universal. You know, like this.” he said and raised me a finger while raising his eyebrows with a face full of contempt.

He sighed, “You’ve confirmed it yourself. Sydell has already sworn his loyalty to me, and soon he’ll do the same to both of you. I bet his brother will follow as soon as he gets well. I want you to look at it this way; if we refuse, they will have to find another way of repaying us. And looking at what they have, they’ll have a lot of trouble paying us back. This way is a lot easier and beneficial for both parties; we get more manpower under us, while they get a reliable benefactor. We won’t be treating them as slaves, more like our comrades. Think on that Adrian, please.”

I kept my head down as I mulled over what Ron said. “What about you Nick? You okay with all this?” I asked.

“Were the new kids in the block man, we can’t do anything else but go with the flow, else well get swept away by the current and lose all control.”

“So you agree?”

“I understand our situation and I know that it’s the step in the right direction. Yes, I do. I wouldn’t want my sentiment to count if it would get us all fucking killed.”

“Shit” I muttered. It’s one of those situations; damn if you do, damn if you don’t. “I know it’s not going to count much but I just want to get it out; I don’t like this one bit, if I wanted to have people’s lives in my hands I would have gone to the military. These two trusted their lives into our hands so we better fucking take care of them.”

“Roger that.”

“No problem there.”

“Moving on.” I said, “Two huge dudes happened to give us a visit, they saw me and they said they wanted to buy a rifle between the two of them. I couldn’t make a decision then and there so I said that I’ll be thinking about it.”

“Nick told me about them. I say we take them in too.” Ron replied. “Make them swear allegiance to us. We have the guns and we need the hands to hold them.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Why what?” Ron replied.

“Why are you doing this? What’s your endgame here? We should be doing our best to avoid increasing the chances of us getting killed, but you seem to be doing just the opposite of that.” I looked at Nick, “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

Nick kept his silence as he looked deep into the fire. He leaned his head on his clasped hands, his elbows planted on his knees as rocked back and forth on his seat. He then shook his head, refusing to answer.

“Nick, how’s your shoulder? Good thing we had Adrian to patch that up huh? Good thing that bullet missed your head, or your neck, otherwise you’d be dead.” Ron then looked at me. “How about you? Good thing you wore that armor that night of the raid, right? Otherwise you’d be dead too.”

“Where are you getting at?” I asked.

“I’m saying….” Ron grumbled, “I’m saying that if we just had more manpower at our disposal, Nick wouldn’t have went down that road, you wouldn’t have went down that camp. If we just had manpower to spare, we wouldn’t have to risk our lives doing dangerous things.”

“So we risk other people’s lives.”

Ron looked at me and huffed, “That’s right. We risk another person’s life, we put him in danger. Isn’t that what soldiers do? Isn’t that what bodyguards do? They know what they’re getting into, they know what they will do when the cards are down. I would like you to know that it was Sydell that came up with the offer to me, and I would also offer the two. They could accept or refuse, it’s their choice to make. Calling my intentions evil will not stop me from wanting to protect you.” He pointed at me. “And you.” Then at Nick.

I looked down, not wanting to meet his gaze. The silence after that was so thick you could feel it and no one dared to break it. My food was cold now, and it didn’t look as appetizing as the minute before so I set it down. “I understand, and I’m sorry. You do what you have to do.” I said and left.

I walked away from the fire, went behind the hut and into a path leading into the woods. My thoughts were a jumble as I recalled our arguments. I thought of the perfect counter arguments for every specific moment, I could’ve won. But would that even matter? It won’t get us back home, rather it would just make a rift between us right when we needed each other the most.

I looked up, the night sky brought its multitude of stars. They were pretty, but they weren’t something I recognized. We aren’t in Earth, we aren’t in our land protected by the might of Uncle Sam, we are now out here in god knows where with only ourselves to depend on.

“Fuck this place.”

AN: So that concludes the introductory arc, the MCs are settled in and their daddy issues solved. The plot will move on in the next arc.

Don't forget to share your thoughts, insights, criticisms and suggestions on the comments below. Any feedback is welcome and inspires me to write more.