Corvayne's body felt better after Mosh and Mister I teamed up to help properly sort out his leg and burns. His mood, however, was pretty lousy even if the pain from his ill-fated scouting mission had faded. Mister I and Mosh had both spent most of his recovery, as well as the entire walk across the bridge, chattering and arguing through Corvayne.

Getting the two on the same page meant he had to listen to them both, sometimes while they talked over each other or argued at him to let the other one know they thought they were wrong. It was a small mercy that during the long walk back over the bridge Mosh's auto-translator had gotten most of the words that Mister I usually used. Mosh wasn't out of the woods yet as Mister I sometimes got it into his head that bigger words were better and would start talking about resplendent blessed fortune or transcendent mastery and he was obliged to parrot what was said word for word.

Looking behind him to not face either of the two arguing healers, Corvayne could see Grunt had also taken a pretty bad hit fending off the two undead guards. He still had a mark on the back of his fist where a huge hook had gone through his hand. Even after mended it Grunt was still flexing it. He looked angry and Corvayne felt a strain of cold fear. Maybe his stupid decision to go off on his own had raised Grunt's ire. Corvayne must have been extra nervous because the big man saw his concern as they picked their way though the soft pine needles off the trail and just emoted an open mouth dumb face then pointed to himself, then pointed at his hand's wound: I was an idiot and got hurt because of it.

Corvayne nodded, made his own stupid face, then mimed a dagger held at his throat: I also almost died because I got careless. Grunt nodded then gestured over his shoulder. He had added the same nasty hook to his pile of weapons. Corvayne showed off his own oversized cleaver. Grunt didn't need to say more, and Corvayne at this point appreciated it.

Hari had been concerned when he had staggered back to the group but once Corvayne healed she had been skittish around him. It was odd if he was checking to make sure she was ok behind them she'd often be in the middle of looking away from him.

The group was spread out over the woods with the goal being to find another treasure chest. Wick was leading them roughly zig zag across the trail and outlying quiet woods. She hadn't spoken to him since he got healed, and for once he wasn't especially looking forward to their next conversation. He wasn't a genius when it came to reading people but he knew she was angry, and no doubt it was at him. How could he blame her? He had nearly died because he had been snuck up on. He had managed to recover from being overconfident but it had nearly cost him his life. He needed someone else to help him up front. Maybe get Grunt a whistle. Or let Hari help him scout. Another pair of eyes might have spotted the guards flanking him.

The Watchers had tried to drill into all trainees not to let a victory go to their head. He had been drunk off the ease of slaughtering the ghosts and the allure of treasure. He could remember plenty of times, at least two or three, where he was certain he was going to die due to a mistake he made in the desert. Afterwards he just shrugged, fixed the problem, and never did it again. He couldn't figure out why this time he felt so bad. Perhaps because he suddenly had more to lose?

Thinking back, he definitely didn't help himself with his impressing his partner. Wick had spent most of the time he was getting patched up happily telling him to stop running into walls. She also kept explaining which end of the spear was the pointy part and how he should point it at the enemy. Him telling her what really happened just made her madder and madder until she flat out called him an idiot. He couldn't remember the last time someone made him feel so upset with just words. He had stood up after a few minutes of Wick ranting at him and told Mosh he'd just deal with the rest of his pain. It wouldn't have even bothered him but he felt like an idiot already, he didn't need her to rub it in! Every now and then she'd look back and glower at him and he kept his face neutral as best he could.

This went on for somewhere between an hour and two of wandering through the woods with the occasional encounter with slugs. Their leisurely backtracking lead them to a branch in the trail he and Wick had not explored the last time they were here. As per the plan, they followed it off into a new section of woods. The new branch of the trail dipped down, more leafy trees joining the mix with red and yellow and orange leaves. The amber color under the trees was brighter here, perhaps because of the the other colors.

Corvayne was trying to let the woods calm him down. He was distract himself by picking off small lizards for Mister I to cook when he saw an intact stone fence in the woods. It looked like it had been built long ago but repaired recently. The next high point in the trail was a rise where he could look out over a small town, bristling with people.

Hari was shocked. “We are in a dungeon, how are there people here?”

Corvayne shrugged. “I don't know, Let's go find out.”

While suspended in the strange space of the dungeon, the town they were walking downhill to looked like a moderately sized medieval settlement. Two figures wearing leather armor and spears passed them on the road and nodded but kept going down the road without further comment.

“Is it weird they didn't stop us when we have a goblin with us?” Wick asked while turning back to watch them wander away.

Corvayne shrugged. “Maybe our grouping says 'adventurers'”

Hari nodded. “It certainly does.”

Grunt put a hand over the side of his eyes and mimed walking quickly: Or they don't want us to be their problem. They saw farmers working the fields and Corvayne waved at a nearby one. “Nice weather today!”

The farmer nodded and waved back. “Just like everyday. King's blessings on you!”

“Anyone else get that?” He turned to the group.

“Yeah. Clear as day Boss.” Mosh walked up the fence a ways and tried the same thing. “Heya champ, great weather today!”

“Hahah, Sun King shine on you, traveller!”

Mosh went back to walking. “Maybe they don't got goblins on this floor.” He said in what sounded a lot more like Cascadian then previously.

“Yeah, wonder what this 'King's blessing' is.” Wick thought.

Mister I helped with a counter point. “Or they were telling Mosh something rude, and we are laughing at an insult.”

It was weirdly tuned to Corvayne's expectations when they finally arrived at the town proper and saw friendly townsfolk milling about and waving at them while they wandered past. Everyone looked clean (even somehow the dusty old farmer watching folks come into town), everyone wore bright colors, and everyone was about their buisness happily. The few other conversations about asking where they were or anything else gently directed them to the inn, King's Rest.

The inn was a two story building built out of wood with white stucco bridging the gap between painted brown beams. A porch in front of the double doors was finished but didn't look entirely painted yet. Inside was spotless and mostly empty tavern, lit from daylight streaming in from a large window at the far end of the bar and lanterns on the walls closer to the bar. Most of the furnishing and floors were made of a deep whiskey redwood, polished to nearly reflective shine. There were about fifteen tables about the room, and the bar itself with. The entire establishment was watched over by a stuffed fur-slug with horns attached that hung above a rack of wines. A painting of a pair of farmers drinking together hung over one wall, the other had a lady bard singing to a rowdy inn. Corvayne also spotted a slightly more risque painting on the ground under a newer still life of fruit.

A red nosed drunk man sat at a table in the far corner and as Corvayne met his eye the fellow raised his mug for the newcomers then went back to humming something. There was another adventuring group talking about fighting goblins but ignoring Mosh entirely, and the innkeeper behind the bar, looking at the group with far more wariness then anyone else had. He was large, balding, and had the first hints of gray creeping into his beard.

“Hello. I'm Corvayne. Me and my friends are travelers who've found themselves here...”

The man nodded. “King's Crossing.” He didn't offer his name.

“I had some questions and was told to come here.”

The bar tender lifted one of his hands and gestured to the bar. “Buy some stew and I'll talk while you're eating. It's pricy stew or cheap stew. 5 irons for cheap, 1 silver for a more filling soup.”

Corvayne put a silver in front of him then stopped a moment. “Each or all?”

He slipped it into his hand. “I'll let you know after we talk. I take it you're not from... here.” He turned and took a step into the kitchen to grab a large iron pot. He set it down on a table and served them a red stew in wood bowls. “Slug stew.” No complaints: it smelled delicious. Everyone else settled down onto seats, most looking around. Hari used the time to open her book and work on the potion and sun dial.

“I was saying... we are travelers. New to this land.” Corvayne prompted.

“You don't act like natives? Outsiders?” The innkeeper lowered his voice a hair as he asked, “New to the Under-Sky?”

“New to here, we call it the Tower.”

The barkeeper nodded and relaxed a little. “It's rare to see other folks who are awake, let alone outsiders. You come from a different floor?” He sounded skeptical and was looking from face to face as he spoke.

Corvayne nodded at the man. “We are trying to make heads or tails of this place. You mentioned asking if we are awake and I had a hunch talking to people along the way here: It's like how some goblins can talk and reason, and the rest just charge you?”

He heard Wick add from a few seats down, “Corvayne speaks, but can he reason?” He pretended he didn't hear it.

The man nodded. “Whatever name you go with, most of the people in town are simple. Don't mistake that for stupid now, a farmer knows farming, a guard will arrest you if you start stealing... but if you don't ask them for a detail or thought on something, they just make small talk. They have daily routines, and you can shake them up if you try but otherwise they follow them like clockwork.”

He lowered his voice to a very flat tone. “Some people think they are not... alive. I think they grow as they interact with others. Either way... if you don't treat them like people just walk away now and there won't be any... trouble.”

“They are obviously people.” Corvanye stated, not entirely understanding what prompted a threat.

“I'd stay away from anyone who doesn't think that way.” The innkeeper nodded and Corvayne could see his shoulders and arms fall a little.

Corvayne stirred his stew a little then went to the next thing he wanted to learn. “The town had made me wonder if we had reached the border of some large country or something.”

“As far as I saw? No. There might be more towns on this layer, as it's on the low side of monsters and the ones here are trivial. Was there another country on this layer?”

“We don't know either. I've only been in once, and we went to floor 5, cleared a monster guarding the exit, then left. We had come in totally on accident last time. This time was curiosity and profit.”

“Well!” The barkeeper gave a little bow that Corvayne felt had a hint of sarcasm to it. The big man continued, “Welcome to town. Don't bother the locals and we'll get along fine.”

“Do you know how this place sorts people who come in from different worlds? If you form a group then get through the floors and leave.”

He gestured to the stew, which everyone else was still eating as they listened to him talk. “A silver for your friends seconds. Cheap given the quality.”

Corvayne tossed another coin out. Why not? “It's exactly what we need.”

“Ok. It should work that it splits up any temporary parties. That's what awakened adventurers said back when I ran with them. But... that assumes you haven't wandered too many doors away from where they live.”

“The only doors I've seen are the entrance and exit doors from a more 'real' world. Unless it's some turn of phrase...”

The innkeeper shook his head. “There are no entrances to this yellow-sky stack without a lot of back and forth through doors. I've lived here a while and checked. The arches are all empty.” He had a very pointed look at Corvayne.

“The arch we came in was not far from here but was sealed by a door. It barred us from exiting the way we came in but described a path up out. We entered on the floor with cubes, not far from here. Maybe three, four hours at a brisk walk, most of that on this floor.”

“I explored that floor almost ten years ago. Went sixteen cubes down, up, left, and right. All the arches are empty. No door, no portals, nothing.”

Wick had been listening between tapping buttons on a gray plastic device with a green readout. She looked up and asked, “Is that how big the floor is?”

The big man thought about it. “As far as I know the floors are infinite. Or at least long enough you can walk across a floor for a year and see no location twice. There are different densities to floors, that's usually what people think of as big or small. Some places you won't see a stair up or down for a week.”

Corvayne nodded. “It sounds like you are very well traveled.”

That elicited a shrug from their host. “I'm on a break from exploring.”

Corvayne looked around the inn. “A long one?”

“A few years.” The innkeeper nodded.

Wick asked a question that Corvayne wished he had thought of himself. “So you've never had anyone from Cascadia come in here?”

“No, where's that?” The bartender started polishing a mug as he spoke. The name didn't seem super interesting to the man.

Wick frowned a little. “It's the place the entrance is at. A large park. A group of furry monsters chased us in the first time.” Wick gave Corvayne a look. At least she wasn't throwing barbs at him right now.

Hari had been listening and seemed to understand the man. “So what about Nal' Fer'al? Is there a way to get there?”

“I've heard of it. So that world's probably not too far. Maybe search for a door that looks right for the world and see if you can find an exit arch.”

Corvayne sensed some terminology differences. “You mentioned doors again, are you referring to the arches we came in with?”

“No no... doors go sideways... you really are adamant you came in and went straight up aren't you?”

“We did last time we were on this floor. This run of it we went up and down looking to figure out how it worked. Going up different stairs takes you different places.” Corvayne kept smell the aroma of stew as he spoke and finally tried a spoonful in while the innkeeper was looking at him. It tasted extremely good. “Sorry, it looked really good! I just was happy to talk to someone who's better informed then we are.”

The innkeeper sighed and ignored the compliments to continue the discussion. “When you're walking around the floors, look for out of place things. Like, you go into a place that everything is gray stone, and you find a door made of red wood with bright white limestone: it's going to lead you to another world's associated Under-Sky. In theory when you exit the bottom floor, it always takes you to that world that the layers are normally imitating. You can sort of move sideways by going up and down through different floors, but doors are the direct way to move 'over' between different Under-Skies.”

A younger woman came out from the kitchen of the inn, wearing a simple barmaid's outfit. “Dearest, do you need any help?”

In the moment the barkeep heard those words, Corvayne saw the mans face morph from brooding to pleased and his tone was about a hundred degrees warmer. He even laughed a little. “No honey. I'm just chatting with some explorers here who are off to fight goblins. Don't want to see any in town, right guys?”

The other group raised their mugs. Were they even drinking from them? Not one had got up to get more.

Mosh muttered “Rude as hell.”

The woman nodded and smiled at them. “Stay safe. King's blessing on you.”

When she was gone, the innkeeper went back to glowering. Corvayne looked at him. “Is there a polite way to ask if someone is 'Awakened'?”

“If you ask them in any way and they get mad, they are awakened.”

“Your wife wouldn't.” Corvayne stated.

“She might in a few years.” The man looked defeated. “What do you want with me?”

Mister I lifted his bowl. “The recipe!”

Mosh folded his arms. “Everyone to stop shit-talking goblins.”

Wick called out “A potion that raises someone's caution. The innkeeper looks like he's had a few.”

“Coming into my Inn for trouble miss?”

“Paranoid knows it's own.” Wick shrugged but didn't turn away from the man.

Corvayne waved at them to stop. “Hey! Sorry sir. We are not going to harm anyone here. Perhaps another day we'll come back and order more stew and have a less hostile conversation.”

He got up to leave, then stopped. He had paid for information. It was time to cash in. “Actually I want to know before we go, what are you really worried about?”