The next days were spent developing my land. I was able to pass off my plans for the road towards town, aided by my core book’s map, and as such was able to truly begin pushing the path towards the edge of my territory. Expansion was about ten feet a day, and with Baum working all day and night without breaks, ground was broke quickly.

And with that, I decided to finally actually visit Livartown. I still hadn’t given back the horse Lady Caro had let me borrow, and while I had it I supposed that it would make sense to use it, so, one morning I told Arin my plan.

She agreed with the idea, but reminded me to bring what money I had, something I would have forgotten were I alone. It was nice to have help.

I wasn’t sure of proper dress or etiquette quite yet, but decided that some things were simply infallible. I wore a maroon and gray plaid, a black formal vest, dark jeans and boots. My gun belt worked with the getup, so I brought my six-gun and thirty six rounds of extra ammo. I definitely wouldn't use that many, no matter what happened, but it filled all of the slots and just looked better. Mounting the horse I felt like a true cowboy, but was unfortunately missing the hat.

I also put together a small bag with some things I could use as gifts, should the chance arrive. I threw in a small bag of ground coffee, a tin of cigars, various snacks, and a bottle of bourbon I’d gotten on a distillery tour in Kentucky. I wasn’t sure what would be appreciated, but it was hard to go wrong with alcohol.

According to what I knew, I could find the town if I followed the river northward, so that was what I did. The ride was pleasant, especially as I had a tame mount, but it was truly a beautiful day. As I went, thoughts of all the various ways the town could be filled my head. From filthy and wretched as though out of a Monty Python’s The Holy Grail, to enlightened and pleasant, I knew that no matter what Livartown was it’d be new to me.

And new it was. Coming along the river I eventually found the working party for the road, and not three miles down what they’d completed I saw the farmland begin. Rolling fields dotted with cottages, mills, and barns took the place of forests, and far in the distance, past a collection of one story homes I was able to see a high stone wall, behind which were the red tiled roofs of civilization. It was truly quite the spectacle.

I took my time riding though, waving at farmers working in their fields as I passed. Almost all of them waved back with a smile, and only a few looked at me in any way to be described as strange. I took notice of their attire as I went, the bright colors surprising me. I saw plenty of vibrant reds, yellows, and greens on the farmer’s tunics, and it made me feel like the dull one.

Before the wall began, there was a long street of unorganized, undefended housing. The central street was paved in stone, but the offshoots were just packed dirt or gravel. There wasn’t much activity save for the travel of carts in and out of the city, but guessing based off of the smokestacks coming from stone chimneys, many folk were inside cooking. It was midday and I assumed these buildings belonged to farmers, so it made sense.

After a brief wait in a line of people entering the city, I made it up to the gate. There was a spear-wielding guard to either side of it, with more armed with bows perched in the two surrounding towers and on the wall above.

“Good day, mister.” The guard to the right of the gate walked up to me, “I’ve not seen your face before. Where do you come from?”

“A house on a hill about ten miles…” I pointed back south, “that way.”

He blinked at me, before looking up and down at the way I dressed.

“Would you be the Sanctuary Master?” He asked.

“I believe so.”

He looked also at the horse I was riding, and upon seeing the brand on its hindquarters decided I was indeed who he thought.

“Forgive me, but I need you to wait here just a moment.” The guard said as he began walking back to the wall.

“Take your time.” I nodded, continuing to examine the gate and the village around it.

A minute or two later, the guard came back outside the gate with two others of his occupation.

“These two will lead you to the manor house.” He told me, “Lady Caro instructed to have you brought to her should you have chosen to come to town.”

“Sounds like a plan.” I nodded.

The two guards led me through the gate. Going inside, it was actually two gates forming a kind of airlock. Looking upwards as I rode through, I noticed holes in the top that would allow for arrows, boiling oil, and other nasties to be poured through on anyone invading. I was glad to get out of there, though I knew no one to have hostile intentions towards me.

The town inside the wall was much more organized than what was out of it. The gate opened to a wide, paved road leading perfectly straight further than I could see. To either side were neat, wattle and daub buildings that ranged in height from one to three stories. Each upper floor extended slightly over the road, and in between the constructions were alleys too narrow to allow much traffic, but likely just enough to allow a hand-pulled cart through.

There was much more activity in this area as well. The noise of talking, footsteps, laughter, and carts rolling along the stone road filled my senses, as well as an odd mix of animal defecation and roasting meat. The meat came from various stalls lining the road, selling skewers, sausages, and what looked like turkey legs. Signage denoted prices, and my first clue into the economy was that a meat and veggie skewer cost six copper coins.

“This way, sir.” The guards led me forward at a decent pace. Traffic moved along similarly to how it did in America, with the right side of the road being the side one traveled on. Horses and carts rode closer to the middle, with the occasional brave pedestrian crossing the trafficked lanes. I didn't see many children in this area, rather just individuals moving carts in and around the city, as well as the merchants who fed them.

About fifty yards away from the gate, the street was bisected horizontally by another, with signage on a lamppost denoting stables and lodging to the right, and a shopping district to the left. I made a mental note of that for later. Based on just what I could see of the city so far, I’d guessed the walled area to take up a few hundred acres.

We rode along the street until we came to the opposite wall, behind which was quite the large manor house. This gate looked more sturdy than the one I’d come through on the other side, and was also closed rather than open. The guardsmen on top of the ramparts took one quick look at those who rode with me, and called orders to raise the gate. The iron cages rose slowly, likely by man power, and we entered. The guard to my left rode quickly ahead, while the other kept a slow pace at my side.

Inside this wall was a long garden, with trees and trimmed hedges to either side. Short stone walls were stacked along the road, keeping any traffic off the grass and adding a nice aesthetic feel. At the end of this road was a roundabout-like section, which led up to the stairway of the grand home. Unlike those in the city, this building was carved of ornate stone, and the highest windows I could see were four stories above the ground.

As we came upon the entrance, the doors opened and an old man in something very similar to a suit emerged. Following him was a young boy, who came up to me and offered to take my horse to the stables. I dismounted and was greeted by the older man.

“Good day, sir.” He bowed, “My name is Selbstet, the butler of this house.” His voice was aged and raspy, but clear.

Selbstet sported a well kept walrus mustache, the same dark gray as his hair. His eyes were some of the deepest blue I’d ever seen, and his pale skin was telling that he hadn’t spent much of his life in the sun.

“A pleasure.” I held out my hand, “My name’s Thomas.”

He shook my hand in a gentle fashion, and I was glad that handshakes were a custom here.

“The good Lady Caro is currently away, otherwise she would greet you. Instead, his lordship’s steward would be pleased to make your acquaintance today.”

“And I, his.” I nodded. I wasn't quite sure what was going on, but I thought meeting an official steward sounded pretty cool.

“Then if you would follow me.” Selbstet dipped his head.

I nodded toward the guards who’d led me as far as they had and entered the house.

Luxury was something I’d known. From cigar lounges to the European palaces that I’d seen on my blessed few earthly travels, it wasn’t at all foreign. But that didn't stop me from whistling when I caught a gaze of the entry hall of the manor.

It wasn’t grand in height, surely, but that didn't mar the beauty in the slightest. Red, wooden floors polished to a sheen made no creak as I walked over the finely woven carpets above them, and ornate end tables spaced tastefully foundationed for lamps that gave ambience to the hallway. Paintings of landscapes, finely dressed individuals, and histories of war were hung intermittently along the walls, and open doors to either side led into salons, parlors, and other entertaining rooms.

“It’s quite grand.” I commented to my guide as I was led forward.

“His lordship has been kind, and in that rewarded with such luxury.” Selbstet said proudly.

I nodded along. He brought me to a salon much further inside the house, where inside were plush couches, a low table covered in sweets, and two girls wearing plain black dresses standing next to a cold fireplace. Overhead was a tasteful lighting fixture, and the wall not lined with windows sported a portrait of a lady sitting under a parasol, and a long table with equipment for brewing what I assumed was tea.

“If you would kindly wait, master Beneber should arrive shortly.”

I nodded and took a seat in one of the couches, and found it very comfortable. Not three seconds after I had, one of the ladies I assumed to be a maid was at my side with a box of tea tins.

“Would the good sir have a preference?” She asked politely.

“No ma’am.” I smiled, “I’d love whatever you think best.”

She blushed and grinned, before going to prepare some tea. I was curious as to what it’d be like in this world.

I sat on the couch quietly for a few minutes, admiring the room. Outside the window was a view of the grounds, which probably extended for three hundred yards before being stopped by the defensive wall. Eventually, a small teacup was placed in front of me and the maid expertly poured it from at least a foot above.

“Thank you much.” I smiled and took the cup. I let it cool for a minute, but sipped it while it was still warm. It reminded me of the sweet rooibos tea I’d had prepared for me by a friend’s family in my youth. Even without any added sweetener it was much more rich than most drinks, and I savored it as I waited.

Another few minutes passed, and a middle aged man with long, tied back, dark hair entered the room. He stood very tall, with a lanky frame that reminded me of my own. His eyes were light, and his face was clean shaven. I stood when he entered.

“Sir Cutter.” He greeted me, “I’m Tarron Beneber, the steward of these lands.”

“A pleasure.” I was growing tired of greetings, but formality had a charm to it nonetheless.

“Lady Caro wished to be here, but alas.” He gestured for me to sit back down. “We’re glad you decided to make your way to this city, we weren’t sure when you would. I heard that the orcish raid was quite dreadful. Lady Caro and the captain are out looking for the party’s camp even still.”

They had mentioned something about how the raiding party was only a portion of an orcish tribe. Beyond the bull orcs, as they were called, were their woman, elderly, and children. I wanted nothing to do with that part of the defense.

“What ended up happening with the refugees?” I asked, not wanting to think about the orcs.

“They’ve been situated in a small camp to the north side of town.” He explained, “They’re doing alright, but very distraught over the missing.”

“I can only imagine.” My vision went unfocused as I looked out the window.

“But the town can support them.” He said on a lighter note, “And hopefully, your lands may as well.”

“My lands?”

“Oh yes.” Beneber stroked his chin, “Once word got around that there was a Sanctuary near here, requests flooded the banks for loans to develop there.”

“I see…” I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

“Naturally your permission is required, but if possible, do expect inquiries regarding such matters to find you soon.”

“If I must.” I nodded, “Though I do need to ask, would any settlement on my land be subject to local law and taxation?”

“I have a legal text that’ll give you any technical information on that you may need, but the short answer is no.” He told me, before turning to the maids, “Lia, kindly go get the book titled Land Policy and Law Regarding Magical Situations from my office. It should be on the bottom right of the shelf. With a green cover.”

The maid who’d made my tea gave a courteous affirmative, and left the room.

“Legally, that land is still technically property of the valley nymph who lives there.” He said.

“Lived, I think. Who you’re talking about actually lives on my land now.”

“Oh, dear me, they did mention something like that.” He laughed, “Well, now it’s wilderness then, beyond our city ordinance. But since you're there, as a Sanctuary Master your land is your own by divine right.”

“And that’s not a government problem?” I asked.

“Well, if you simply existed it would be, but your job is extraordinarily important. Your territory is all that can hold back the dungeon.”

I nodded. My guess would have been that the government wouldn’t particularly like their land leaving them, but I suppose with religious reasons anything could be accepted.

“And it’s not as though it's particularly important land, no offense.” He said, “It borders the mountains and is much too hilly to farm to large degrees.”

I chuckled, “Well it’s mighty beautiful.”

We talked some more, and he showed me a few sections in the book that he asked the maid to retrieve that outlined the boring legal implications of my being a sanctuary core. There were other sections in the book regarding the territories of things like nymphs, dragons, deities, and other magical beings, so it seemed that surrendering land to mystical entities wasn’t all that rare, if there was policy around it. Beneber ended up allowing me to keep the book.

Before I left the manor, the steward also gave me some official looking documents that outlined my position as Sanctuary Master, a wax seal stamp, and a small leather bag.

“The bag is a personal gift from Lady Caro.” He said, “It’s enchanted spatially.”

I took the bag and opened it. Though it was only the size of a satchel, inside was about the size of a large suitcase.

“That’s incredible!” I exclaimed, I’d read stories that featured bags of holding and the like before, but seeing one was a different matter entirely.

“I’ll be sure to tell her you liked it.” Beneber smiled, “It’ll never weigh more than five pounds, no matter how you fill it.”

“I’ll be sure to put it to good use.” I nodded. I quickly laid the book, papers, and wax seal inside, and they hardly took up a fraction of the available space.

With that, I left the manor house. Though I expected to walk, the stableboy from before brought me my horse.

“Oh he isn’t mine,” I said, “He belongs to the town.”

“Mister Selbstet said you could keep ‘em.” He said with a slight accent I couldn’t place.

“Well forward on my thanks, then.” I smiled and mounted the beast. If he was mine, I’d need to name the buckskin, but I could do that later.

“Will do, sir.” The stableboy nodded.

And with that, I went back into the town.

My first destination was the market. If I wanted an idea of the technological development, economy, and general disposition of the people, that would be my best bet. I was not a very experienced horseman, but what little I had made navigating the wide streets possible. The smell of the city wasn’t particularly pleasant, but nor was it the filth-ridden hellhole that often dominated depictions of days gone by.

The market district was a street lined with stalls, behind which were proper roofed shops and businesses. Signs had both words and pictures, which likely meant that enough people here could read that they’d bother. I saw booths for everything from tool sharpening to produce, and buildings were all based on a physical good to be sold. The first shop I entered was one that specialized in spices and seasonings.

“Hello!” A plump middle aged woman greeted me as I walked inside.

“Good day.” I mimicked the greeting I’d heard many others give in this place. It wasn’t foreign per say, but was definitely less common on Earth than here.

“I just got a shipment of spices from way out in Ryule if you’d care to give them a try.” She smiled and gestured to a small display next to the front counter.

The shop smelt very strongly of spice, naturally, and reminded me of the Indian spice shops back home. There were jars all along the collection of shelves with powders of various colors inside them.

“I’m just having a look.” I said. My own spices wouldn't last forever, so seeing what I could get in this world would prove useful in the future. I spent about ten minutes smelling what I could to see if I found anything familiar, and ended up purchasing a local herb that reminded me of basil so as not to waste the shopkeeper's time. The vial cost three silver coins, which I took from the goblin’s bag. After I left the spice shop I could no longer smell the street’s innate stench, which was quite the boon. From there I continued on to a general store.

This place was much more mellow, with a disinterested looking youth waiting behind the counter. He didn’t greet me as I entered, so I just browsed without a word. The shelves here were lined with about what one would expect, simple tools, grains, flour, salt, a small section of clothing, and a few other knick knacks. Nothing I really needed yet, but just knowing where it was served all the purpose I needed it to.

I quickly remembered that shopping wasn’t my thing. Still I visited other stores, but found nothing interesting save for a necklace I decided to get for Arin. It had a silver chain and a small green gemstone as a pendant, and I hope she’d appreciate how it matched her eyes. Purchasing the necklace I realized that Arin had no clothing except for her robe, and I thought that I’d wait to ask her if she’d like me to buy her more.

After I’d drained my social battery shopping, I fancied a drink. At the corner between the market district and the main road was a building with a sign reading The Greenbear Tavern with a picture of a paw print underneath. It looked rather modern truthfully.

According to my watch it was four o’clock, but I reckoned that after a day like mine it could do well to have an early drink. I wasn’t much for booze, but certainly appreciated a fine bourbon every now and then, and really hoped there would be similar beverages here. I truly felt like a cowboy, dismounting a horse and entering a bar with the big iron on my hip, but tried to shrug off the urge to say something stupid with the feeling.

“Have a seat wherever!” A young woman holding a tray called when I entered. She had a deep brown head of hair and an unblemished face, and was bringing drinks to a table of four older men.

The tavern was as taverns should be. Wooden tables spaced evenly around the room, a small raised section to the side of the great stone fireplace on the far wall- likely a stage, and a wall-long bar well stocked with bottles and barrels. Something I noticed about this place compared to earth was the lack of standardized packaging, and I appreciated something about the lack of adornment on every product. It was refreshing.

I took a seat away from the other patrons at a corner table, and waited patiently for the girl to get around to me. The tavern wasn’t busy, but she was the only one I could see working the floor. Behind the bar was an old man, but he seemed to be writing in a ledger of sorts.

“Thanks for waiting for me.” She came around with a thin wooden board with the names of a few food items carved into its surface. “Something to drink?”

“No problem.” I smiled. “It’s my first time here and my lips are a tad parched, anything you’d recommend?” I asked.

She thought for a moment.

“There’s a local ale that’s always popular.”

“Any whiskey?” I asked.

“Whiskey?”

“Nevermind.” I sighed, “I’ll try that ale.”

“Have it out soon.” She smiled and walked off.

A few minutes later the waitress set down a wooden mug filled to the brim with a deep, brown ale. There was a slight ring of bubbles, but it was far off from the bubbly beers of home. I thanked her and took a sip.

Just like it looked, the ale was quite flat. It wasn’t near as bitter as some of the beers I’d had back on earth, but wasn’t truly anything special either, save for the slightly sweet aftertaste. I sighed, but nursed the beverage as I began to miss home. I was definitely a whiskey man, with a particular soft spot for a good bourbon. Drinking wasn’t one of my main pastimes, but there were occasions where I’d dabble. And dabble was well and truly all I did, in fact, despite having a brief stint as a bartender when I turned eighteen, I’d never even actually been drunk.

I looked over the wooden menu she’d given me, and thought I’d have myself a plate of smoked meat and cheese for lunch. It was the most expensive option on the menu, but at eight coppers I’d still have plenty of coin to spare. I flagged down the girl and asked for the dish, and received it about five minutes later on a wooden plate.

I wasn’t a hundred percent sure what the meats were, but the thinly sliced pieces were well seasoned and did well with the ale. The cheese wasn't the best, but for my first meal not prepared with my own ingredients, I was quite satisfied by it.

According to the menu my total was ten coppers. Rather than embarrassing myself by asking someone how basic money worked I came up with a plan. I’d pass the waitress a silver and ask for change, and calculate how much one was worth. Satisfied with my brilliance, I waved her over and asked.

“If you don't mind my asking,” She didn't yet take the money, “You’re the Sanctuary Master, right?”

“Why does everyone know that?” I sighed. Fantasy worlds were likely much more fun if folk didn't know who you were.

“Probably the way you dress.” She commented, “And that weird thing on your leg.” She pointed to my gun. “We don’t get too many strangers around here.”

“Yeah, fair enough.” I tapped the holster. “What’s your name, anyway?”

“I’m Renee Altiin. My dad owns this tavern.” She gestured back towards the bar, where the man behind it made no indication to look our way, “What’s your name?”

“Tom.” I told her, “Tom Cutter.”

“Well Tom,” She started, “don’t worry about the bill today. It’s on me.”

I tilted my head slightly.

“Well, dear, I’d be much obliged. But I’m more than happy to pay.”

She waved her hands for me not to worry, but it still didn't sit right with me. I was never fond of handouts based on job or reputation, and because I had no reputation here that I was aware of, this meal was likely the former. And I also really wanted to figure out money.

I sighed and let her cover it, but still left my silver coin on the table when I left. It’d have to be a tip if anything.