Tim focused on his bag while thinking words like inventory, storage, and shop. He applied any similar option that came to his mind. When nothing happened, he finally stuck his hand in the bag. Immediately, he had an awareness of a grid of inventory slots twenty by twenty. The first sixteen rows were each partially full of items, and each row had a slightly distinct color. The first four rows were varying shades of red, then the next four were varying shades of gray. The third four rows were colored in different variants of blue, while the final four rows were various shades of yellow.

Below the rows of items, which mostly looked to be various types of gear, he found half a dozen items in the seventeenth row. As he focused on each slot, he could identify the items within. The first slot was filled with ten trail rations, then there was flint and steel, presumably for making fires, in the next slot. After that, was a waterskin, a hundred feet of rope, three torches, and finally, a hunting knife.

It appeared that items of the same type could be stacked up in one slot. When he looked at the top row, the first item was a standard steel helm. Upon closer inspection, it read as:

Standard Steel Helm

Weight: 4.0

Defense: +4

Requirement: Hardiness 12

Suddenly, it dawned on him that there were sixteen rows of gear. It was just like the sixteen sides on the die that he had to roll to determine class. Since he had rolled a ten, he counted down to that row. There he found a black robe, a staff with a humanoid skull on the top, a large, curved dagger, some soft boots, and a cloak. The final slot in that row held an item simply marked as ‘Note’.

Simple Note:

No need to thank me! This is what patrons do.

Tim almost sputtered. Who would be thankful for being dumped in this land with little to no idea of what he was doing? That was to say nothing for being turned into a jello-eating senior citizen.

Still, Tim wanted to have some clothes on when the horsemen caught up to them. He was thankful that Atticus and Cecilia had been so understanding, but he couldn’t count on everyone to feel the same way.

It was truly frustrating because there was still so much he still didn’t know, but now was not the time for questions. Now was more about finding a quiet spot. He thought about the robe in the tenth row, imagined removing it from the bag, and, as simple as that, it was on his body. He might not like much else about this world, but the wardrobe function certainly was handy.

With the way his back ached, he was glad not to have to bend or stoop trying to dress. He did the same with the boots but left the cloak in the bag. It was a fairly pleasant morning, and he didn’t need any extra layers.

The staff with the human skull on it made him think twice. It wasn’t likely something that would make a good impression, so he just left it in the bag. He did, however, pull out the dagger and its sheath, attaching them to his belt. When he examined the gear, the descriptions were pretty simple.

Standard Blood Mage Robe

Wt: 3.0

Defense: 1

Requirement: Acuity 12

Magic Resistance: +4

Standard Leather Boots

Wt: 2.0

Defense: 1

Standard Blood Mage Sacrificial Dagger

Wt: 1.5

Offense: 1-4

Requirement: Acuity 12

Drain Blood: 15% chance upon attack that it may drain 2 units of blood and store them for usage.

Tim didn’t get a chance to ask any further questions or review his assigned skills. Before any of that, the horsemen came galloping up alongside them. There were four of them, and all were wearing plate armor like Tim would assume knights of old might have worn. All had tabards with the same house insignia in the shape of a sun setting behind a mountain.

Atticus nodded at the knights but otherwise kept his attention on making sure the behemoth pulling the wagon stayed under control. Cecilia notably looked away and kept her eyes averted. One knight snickered when he saw her, and Tim so felt an urge to say something, but stupid is as stupid does. Polite as she might be, he wasn’t about to upset four armored men with swords for her. Certainly not over a snicker.

Once the knights were well past them, Atticus directed the wagon back onto the road. Tim checked to make sure that they were far enough away, then said, “So, who were those jerks?”

“I didn’t see them pulling on anything,” Atticus said with a confused expression, “but if you are referring to the knights, they are from the house of Kibori. It is one of the noble houses of Terra.”

“Do they always act like that?”

“Again, I am not sure what you expected. They are knights serving a noble house, and we are simple traveling merchants, so it would not be unusual for them to look down on us.”

“What about how Cecilia had to look away from them? I guess… I mean what I’m trying to ask is about understanding how social relationships work in this world. I don’t even know the name of the capital city we are going to.”

“I get it. This is probably very disorienting for you. We only hear legends about the 1st gen sojourners. In the tales, you and people like you are the ones who make things happen. You slay dragons, save princesses, and become nobles.”

“Cecilia looked away because making eye contact with the knights might have opened her up to communication. If one of them wanted to court her, it would be near impossible for me to refuse them.”

Cecilia turned in the wagon to look back at him and smiled. “Thank you for your concern, but it is nothing we are not accustomed to. The closer we get to New Rome, the more of it we have to look out for.”

“New Rome? That the name of the capital of this nation? Terra, right?”

Atticus said, “Yes, that is right. From the look on your face, you find something funny about that?”

“It’s nothing. Just that there is a famous city in my homeworld called Rome.”

“That really isn’t that odd because some sojourners in the past probably came from your homeworld.”

“Okay, I guess that makes sense. So, if what I was told is correct, there are four nations in this world. What can you tell me about New Rome and how to interact with people? I don’t even know where I am going to stay or what I can do for a living or anything like that.”

“Yes, there are four nations, but there is too much to tell at one time. Now, I will say we are near the center of the Terra, and it is one of those four nations. As mentioned, the capital city, which you can probably see in the distance, is called New Rome, and the nation is ruled by a king who goes by the title of caesar. Caesar Febrius is the current ruler. The noble families are praetors who administer various parts of the kingdom, others are senators who serve in the senate. It is a body that advises the caesar and creates most of the laws.”

“Okay, and where do sojourners fit into all of this?”

“Think of it like this. Caesar is the first tier, then the nobles, then the merchants and craftsmen, and finally, the slaves. The sojourners are outside of that system. They are often adventurers, but there is no law that says they must be. Some sojourners have become nobles, but even then, they are their own thing.”

“The fact is sojourners who are past the first couple of generations are fairly well integrated into Iocusinte’s society. The only thing that is unique to sojourners is that bag you are wearing. No one else has replicated those, and every sojourner—even down to at least the fortieth generation—receives one when they reach adulthood. It is some special event called their soul day, but we normal people don’t know that much about it.”

Cecilia interrupted her father at that point. “There is more to it than that—at least, if the stories are to be believed.”

Atticus replied, “I am trying to tell him only what I know to be true. We don’t want him running off and trying to become an adventurer in his state. It would be better if we can find a place for him to work in one of the local merchant shops.”

She then looked at Tim again and said, “Bah, the tales also say that sojourners can level up much higher than normal people.”

“You know about levels then? Do you have character sheets too?” Tim asked.

“Every adult has a level, although it is almost always level 1, and a class, even if it defaults to laborer,” Atticus answered.

“Laborer? That doesn’t sound like much of class, and why would your world have game terms for actual people?”

“Game terms?” Cecilia asked.

“Shhh, we are almost at the gate. If you want, Tim, I will tell them you work for me. We will say this is your first time in the town. They may ask you for a tax to enter. I doubt you have any money yet, so I will pay the fee for you. Then you can work a short time for me to pay it back, so our story will be true. Once we are in the town, we can check your class. It may be possible to get you assigned as a merchant. That is unless you already have a class.”

Before Tim could respond, Atticus shushed him again as the wagon rolled up to the gate. The walls were fully sixty feet high and made of what appeared to be vast limestone blocks stacked upon one another with a mortar between them. The gates were equally massive but swung open, guarded by some twenty guards.

Two of them came up next to the wagon, questioning what their business was in the city, how long they would be staying, and their merchandise. It was all very formal and Tim couldn’t help but mutter under his breath, “These are not the droids you are looking for.”

The guard in leather armor over a long tunic said, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Atticus started to cover for Tim. He couldn’t help but wonder why the man was taking this risk for a complete stranger, yet he didn’t want these two to suffer for him. “I’m sorry. All this is new to me. I only just got here today.”

The guard who wasn’t speaking signaled, and several other guards came trotting over, their short swords, similar to old Roman gladiuses, drawn. The first guard asked, “What is that supposed to mean? I warn you I will not be lied to.”

“Atticus, just tell them the truth. It is not worth you and Cecilia getting in trouble for me.”

“I don’t think you know what you are getting yourself into, but there isn’t much choice at this point.” Atticus then turned toward the guards. “He is a newly arrived sojourner. I simply wanted to get him into the city so that he could learn something of Iocusinte before he presented himself.”

“If he is newly arrived, then how long have you known him for?”

“Only for the past hour, but is it not kind to offer compassion to those who are helpless?”

“Perhaps, but why conceal his nature once you knew it?” the guard asked.

“What my father is not wanting to tell you is that we are Patronites,” Cecilia said.

The guards all began laughing at that point. “Oh, if that’s all it is… Well, you know that we still have to take him to the hall to be tested. Then if he is what you say, he will have to be presented to Caesar.”

Tim got nervous as this seemed to be escalating rapidly. “So, what are Patronites anyway?”

The guards laughed even louder when he asked that question. The one doing the questioning asked, “What, you risked yourselves to save him? Didn’t you even tell him about his grand destiny or your role in it?” His tone was obviously mocking, but the father and daughter didn’t seem to be offended—perhaps because they were accustomed to it.

“Let me tell you, boy, Patronites are a cult who believe in mythical beings in the sky which send the sojourners here. They think those deities control our lives and that your 1st gen are practically demi-gods. Heck, if sojourners are to be worshipped then why aren’t you showing me more respect?” the guard said mockingly.

One guard in the back yelled out, “Tesserarius, you must be too much of a mutt for them! What are you, 40th gen?”

The guard behind the speaker looked back at the guard who yelled out. “I’ll have you know that our guard commander is no less than 38th gen. I saw it on one of his reports.”

The speaker ignored them both and continued speaking to Atticus. “So, I will send a couple of guards to escort you to the hall, but I will let you take him there as I know that is important to your faith.”

“It isn’t a faith, it is a way of understanding the world,” Cecilia said.

“Whatever it is, Atticus, you have always been a peaceful trader, so I will extend this courtesy to you. Will you give your word to take him directly to the hall as required by law?”

Father and daughter looked at each other briefly, and then Atticus replied, “Yes, we will, upon my word of honor. It is not as though we have much choice.”

“Fine then. The gate tax is waived for a new arrival, but if he should turn out not to be a new arrival, then I am doubling the tax… and you will be responsible for it.” The guard commander then signaled for two of his men to escort the wagon. They both took up positions on either side of the cart, being sure to stay well behind the behemoth pulling it.

As the cart moved through the gate, Tim got his first look at the city. It was much larger than he had expected, sprawling out as far as the eye could see. The space inside the gate and all around the wall was free of any permanent structures for a good fifty feet. There were, however, tent vendors set up not far from the gate.

The smell of cooking meat and freshly baked bread hit Tim’s nose, and he suddenly realized just how hungry he was. He supposed that being flung from one planet to another was strenuous. That and being shoved into a new, or at least new to him, body was likely to work up an appetite. “Would it be possible for me to get something to eat on the way to wherever we are going?”

One of the guards trotting alongside the cart said, “The law requires that we take you directly to the hall.”

Cecilia said, “Nothing says that he can’t eat on the way.”

“Fine, but this cart is not to stop until it is in front of the hall.”

“As you say,” Cecilia said before looking at Atticus, “Father, do you have some coins for me to buy Tim a meal from the vendors?”

Tim interrupted. “So, not to be stupid, but what do you all use for money here. I can’t let you pay for food for me. If I can’t get down and choose the food for myself, I will have to trust you to pick me out something good. I’d like to pay for it at least.”

One of the guards laughed. “Now, I know you’re a 1st gen. I tell you what. If you’ve got any gold coins in that fancy soul pouch of yours, hand me a couple of them. I’ll make sure you get some breakfast.”

Tim was instantly on guard. He wanted to kick himself. If the 1900 gold coins he had were a lot of money, then he’d be opening himself up to being taken advantage of. They might not be able to steal anything directly out of his pouch, but that was hardly the only way he could lose in that scenario. If on the other hand it was not much money, then he would end up destitute in this crypt-keeper body.

Atticus glared at the guard, then he looked at Tim. “A silver coin represents the wages of a laborer for a day’s work. There are 10 coppers in a silver, 10 bits in a copper.”

Tim smiled. “It looks like I was given a handful of coins, but they are all gold.” He reached into his soul pouch and pulled out a pair of them. “Are these what you are talking about?”

Atticus replied, “Gah, that is far too much. A few copper bits or at the most a copper crown will buy a very satisfying meal from the vendors. You could buy dinner for a table of senators with that much money.”

The guards’ mouths hung open when he said that, and one said, “He can buy breakfast for all of us then. He has the money to spare. Take one coin and go pick up something but nothing shady. Buy the good stuff.”

Atticus fished into a coin pouch on his belt and pulled out 10 silver coins. “Here, give me one gold and then take a silver coin out of the ten for Cecilia to buy you a late breakfast.”

Tim exchanged the coins and said, “I take it 1 gold equals 10 silvers.”

Tim nodded, and as he did so, Cecilia jumped off and ran to one of the nearby tents. Atticus reminded her that he would try to slow the cart as much as he could but that he wouldn’t be allowed to stop it.

This gave Tim more time to look at the town. The buildings that they came across first were mostly two stories tall, square structures and were rather utilitarian, with little variety or flare. All were made of the same tan stone with similarly placed windows. They had flat roofs, and everywhere he could see people not only moving about in the streets but also on the roofs of the buildings. Many of them appeared to be businesses on the first floor and then housing above.

Something caught his ear then as he heard the sound of chains rattling. Looking over to the left, he saw three men shuffling along. Their clothing was torn and of extremely poor quality. They were shackled not only at the wrists but also at the ankles. Their bindings didn’t allow them to take full steps. A single soldier was using the blunt end of a spear to push them along. Each wore a look of absolute despair on their faces, and Tim couldn’t help but ask about them.

He was told that they were slaves—likely runaways as most slaves were free to move about as long as they did their assigned tasks.

“What will their fate be?”

One soldier answered, “They are headed for the mines, most likely. That is where most runaways are sent. Don’t worry; you are a sojourner. Your kind rarely ever ends up in such dire straits.” Tim heard the animosity in his voice but decided not to ask any more questions as they only seemed to antagonize the man.

So, thinking, he decided to find out what he could learn about his class and skills while waiting for Cecilia to get back with breakfast. Anything was better than worrying about what was to become of him. That and seeing the slaves had spoiled his interest in the surrounding city. No matter how new it was to him, it couldn’t be that interesting if it were a society that supported slavery.

He had to remind himself that he was an alien in another world and that their ways may not be his. It somehow seemed unlikely that this Cal-Dakota, if he were a god of mischief, sent Tim here to free the slaves.

It took some time to figure it out, but after a couple minutes of effort, Tim was able to open the blue screen in his vision. With that, he could see his character screen. He skipped over the first part with the stats as he had seen those before—although he did notice he had an offense stat now. In fact, two of them—one for a spell and one for the dagger. What he focused on were the skills and spells that had been chosen for him.

Equipped Class Skills/Spells:

1) Life Tap

2) Greater Stat Hex

3) Wilting Drain

4) Greater Animate Minion

5) Whirling Bone Wall

6) Mass Paralyzing Blood

7) Advanced Dagger

The fact they were equipped seemed to imply that his class had more skills or spells, but he could only have a certain number equipped for now.

“Atticus, how many skills or spells can a person have equipped at one time?”

“Everyone can have a wide variety of skills, but only four can be active at any time. There are rumors sojourners can have more as they gain levels. Supposedly, the last arena champion was level 9 and had 5 skills. Don’t worry; they will explain this all to you at the hall. I had always intended to bring you there. I had only hoped to introduce you to some friends first and perhaps help ease you in.”

“What is this hall that everyone keeps talking about?”

“It is the Sojourner’s Guildhall—or what some people call the Adventurer’s Guild since that is how most people see the sojourners.”

Tim wanted to ask more questions, but Cecilia came running up with a cloth wrap under her arm. One guard helped her up onto the front of the moving cart, which seemed nice at first until Tim noticed that the guard patted her backside on the way up. She stiffened but didn’t even mutter a complaint.

She then unwrapped the cloth and presented Tim with what looked like a pita stuffed with eggs, sausage, and roasted onions. There were half a dozen of them, and she handed one to each of the guards and then to her father before taking one herself. The people here might be primitive by the standards of modern-day Earth, but Tim had to admit that they made an excellent breakfast. He ate it and savored every bite.

While eating, he took time to explore his skills but didn’t find any specific descriptions on what he was thinking of as his character sheet. All that was there were the names of the skills or spells. Heck, he didn’t even know the difference. Without having more information, he was afraid to try any of them out unless it became absolutely necessary.

It didn’t matter, for, by the time he had finished eating, the cart came to a stop in front of another wall. The farther they had gone into the city, the more the homes became their own separate buildings rather than being stacked up next to one another. Many of the larger buildings even had their own stone walls around them, although most were only six to eight feet high.

This building was rather fancy. It was done in white marble with columns and was a full four stories high. The gate was made of spiraled metal, and he could see inside that there was a fountain and gardens. The cobblestone of the road even continued up inside the gate and led to a large circular portion in front of the main building.

He noted that within the enclosed walls were several smaller buildings. Just by eyeballing it, he guessed that the main building was easily as big as his college dorm, and that had housed over five hundred students. This was truly the largest building he had come across in the city so far. Beyond that, it had an ageless, regal sense that the smaller shops and homes just didn’t possess.