Chapter 47. Lost Pirate

Tension in the Empire’s capital was running high. Garry, an ex-pirate turned mediocre merchant, could tell that much. There was a lockdown on the shocking information. But those in the know-how were itching to get out there and profit.

The monsters were gone, and nobody knew why.

Garry stroked his straggly beard as he walked down the sidewalk of the capital’s famous shopping street. His funds, a few coppers, jingled in his pockets as he window-shopped for travel supplies. The smell of succulent meat wafted past his ruddy nose, but he ignored it as he needed to purchase the bad stuff.

Spotting an alleyway he knew across the street, he prepared to cross the gray-cobbled road. Garry tapped his foot as he impatiently waited for a gap in the traffic on the surprisingly clean beige sidewalk. Wooden carts of diverse sizes pulled by horses rolled by, loaded with various produce en route to the market square. Garry’s stomach rumbled, and he cursed the day he ditched the sea for a life on land.

As Garry thought there was an opening in traffic and stepped forward, a magitech car sped past him, almost smashing his outstretched leg. “Fuckin’ nobles!” he hollered as he retracted his leg and tried to calm down. Eshnar, his home city, was corrupt, but the Empire was in a different league. The nobles could do anything they wished, and the only ones they had to fear were themselves.

Garry put his grubby hands deep in his overcoat’s pockets and fumbled with the few coppers he had left. “Darn, food prices pullin’ me leg,” he muttered under his breath as he felt his stomach rumble again.

Then there was a break in traffic, and Garry quickly made his way across the street alongside a few other residents. Some wore suits of high quality, while others wore more casual clothes. He didn’t pay the well-off citizens of the Empire any of his attention and trudged down the alley. After window browsing for a bit, he discovered a store with dried meats hanging in the glass window on metal skewers. He pushed open the door with a ding and walked inside.

“I need two weeks of travel rations,” he declared as he eyed the butcher lazily waiting behind the countertop.

The burly butcher raised a brow at the scruffy man that walked into his shop. “Two weeks? Where the hell are you going that only takes two weeks?”

Garry waved him off. “Don’t cha worry about it, lad. Here.” He dumped all the coins he had and waited expectantly.

The butcher peered at his meager offering and sneered, “Old man, that will buy you a week at most if you only eat one meal a day.”

“Whatcha say?!” Garry couldn’t believe it. “Last time I came here, it was only a copper a jerky!”

The butcher shrugged. “Food shortage has gotten really bad, and the nobles are hoarding food. It’s three copper a jerky now. Take it or leave it; this store ain’t a charity for the homeless.”

Garry ignored the rude remark and grumbled for a while as he tried to find a way to survive in his head. He had enough copper for a week of food, including today. But it wasn’t even good food. It was borderline rotting meat that he had dried out. His stomach gurgled a third time, and he couldn’t take it anymore. “Fine. I will buy it, yer bastard.”

With a grin, the butcher grabbed and pocketed the coins before dumping a skewer with seven jerkies into a bag. He then removed the skewer and chucked it into a metal sink filled with other skewers. “There you go.” The butcher handed the bag to Garry’s waiting hands. “Now off with ya. You are stinking out the place with your filth.”

Garry ignored the man and chewed ravenously on a jerky as he vacated the shop with a bell ding. He was exhausted, but his supply didn’t allow dallying in one place too long. He needed to leave tonight.

***

Garry passed by many weary travelers as he left the city gates. The hustle and bustle always made leaving the city a drag, and the need to show paperwork to the guards made the whole process a dreadful experience all around.

But as the setting sun bathed the world in a warm orange glow, Garry was finally on the dirt path and out of the city. After arriving at the Empire from Eshnar, he sold his donkey and cart alongside everything he owned. Now all he had was a small wooden cart he could drag behind him, a backpack of questionable quality, the clothes he wore and the ones in his cart, and finally, six pieces of dried meat.

Garry may be uneducated and spent a life at sea, but he was no fool, and he knew this trip may be his last. The sun dipped, and night’s cold bite clawed at his exposed skin. He had no money for food, let alone torches. As he walked, time passed slowly as the moon climbed high in the sky. Luckily, due to his rough life at sea, Garry had invested a lot of points in his CON stat so he could walk further than most peasants. But the race against his empty stomach and old bones worried him.

After a few hours, the well-trodden dirt road disappeared, and Garry found himself surrounded by trees. “Did I make a wrong turn?” he wondered as he looked around. Then in the distance, he heard the sound of shovels.

Totally lost, Garry decided to get a little closer. As he approached the noise, he noticed a row of blue lights stretching into the darkness. Gathering courage, the old pirate pushed forward and stumbled upon an odd scene. Hundreds of small, hunched-over men were slaving away to clear the forest and build a road.

After a while, he decided to speak up. “Excuse me…” he said, his gruff voice surprising even him; he hadn’t drunk water in hours, and his throat was dry.

“One copper to use the toll road, human,” one of the small men said. The darkness made it hard to see their features, but they sounded odd.

Since when was there a road out here? Garry thought as he tried to fish out a copper, only for his hand to pause when he realized he didn’t have any left. He smacked his head. Idiot! How did ya plan to pay the darn entry tax when ya arrived at Eshnar, yer daft cunt? The small man looked up at him as the pirate continued berating himself.

“Human, it is fine. You can sell stuff for the fee, right?”

“Yes!” A glimmer of hope ignited in Garry’s eyes. “I can sell yer a splendid outfit…but why are yer calling me human?” He calmed down. Something wasn’t right. He had definitely wandered into the cursed forest at some point, yet there was a dirt road here?

“No worries, then. Head down the road for a few days, and you’ll eventually reach Necron. Sell your wares there. Good luck!” The small man returned to his work and ignored any further questions.

“Hey! Hey! Are yer listening to meh? What the bleeding hell is a Necron? Where am I?” Garry shouted right next to the man, but he was ignored. Finally, in frustration, he gripped the man’s hood and pulled it down.

The shovel paused.

Garry stared at the white skull that gleamed under the moonlight staring at him with hollow eyes. His body went into shock; he stumbled back and screamed. He had seen many horrors on the ocean, but a talking skeleton trumped anything he had ever experienced.

“Noisy.” The skeletal goblin raised its shovel and smacked the screaming human on the head.

Garry’s world went dark.

***

“Ughhh,” Garry groaned as he nursed his head. He felt nauseous, way worse than his most drunken hangovers while out on the rough seas. Blinking several times, he tried to stop the world from spinning. Then, fumbling around, he found his waterskin and took a swig. After a few minutes, he felt somewhat better and managed to stand. “Where in the three realms is this?” he slurred as he looked up at a very tall wooden wall.

The words on the sign were blurry, and he was terrible at reading, but he slowly spelled them out. “N…E…C…R…O…N. Huh? Necron? What—” Garry suddenly felt fully awake as he backpedaled. That name rang a bell, and all of last night’s antics came rushing back. “AH! A talking skeleton! Where?” He desperately looked around, and all he could see was an empty dirt road except his cart.

“Huh?”

He was alone. Night had turned into day, and he was hungry. He looked left and right. One way led him into an ominously named ghost village. The other was a long road to goddess knew where.

“Hello,” a voice boomed behind him, and Garry spun around on his heel. A green giant emerged from behind the town’s high wooden wall. Its face was ugly, covered in rotting warts, and it had a wooden club on its shoulder. “Welcome to Necron. Enjoy your stay!” the giant monster said joyfully as it took up its post at the gate.

Garry reached for his trusty dagger but paused as he remembered he had sold it for a loaf of bread three days ago. He had no idea what he was supposed to do. So he just stood there for a while, having a staring contest with the ogre.

Eventually, a wonderful smell wafted through the gate. Garry peered past the monster and saw a wooden building. Divine-smelling steam billowed out of an open window and lazily floated through the air toward him. His stomach furiously growled at him, and he clutched it in pain.

Garry spent a while longer debating his options, but eventually, his hunger and desire to sleep won out. With a sigh, he walked back, hauled his cart behind him, and entered Necron village under the watchful gaze of a towering giant monster.

Necron’s first visitor had arrived.