Cain leaves town after his late lunch, wishing Greta good business, and turning down the East road. 

This led him through the most haunted looking swamp that he had ever seen in his life, and that was saying something, as he had been though an undead dungeon set in a Plague swamp. 

He didn’t even get that creepy, “something is going to jump out at me” feeling, it was more like everything was already dead. Cain did consider that Greta could have just been messing with him, and sending him off course, but the road was reasonably solid and continued on through the swamp without any downed trees or overgrowth, so it might be fairly well traveled. 

He reached dry land and healthy looking trees again sometime between midnight and dawn, so Cain decided to pull out a hammock and take a little nap. The Summons merged with him never sleep, so he asked them to keep an eye out, since he couldn’t just release them into the wild right now. The system restrictions placed during the quest wouldn’t allow it. 

Having his eyes closed limits the Dragons a little, but they can still hear as well as ever, and high level transfers are sensitive to danger in a way that doesn’t fit with any of the five senses. It’s not necessary tonight though, and Cain wakes up with the sun, ready to begin his jog again. 

He passes another village, but it looks pretty sketchy, so Cain adjusts his path to travel through the woods to avoid it and others like it, following the road where he can until he gets to a new city just before dark. 

“Fifteen minutes to gates closed.” The guards on duty call out to any incoming travelers who might be nearby. 

“I’m nearly there. Don’t lock up yet.” Cain shouts back, moving to a more human pace as he comes closer to their line of sight. 

“What’s your name and business here in Abeyance?” The guard asks. 

“The name is Cain, and I’m on a mission to find the lost city of Hygar. Don’t suppose you gentlemen know any local rumors about it?”

“Oh, we know rumors alright. Hundreds of them, and they all point deep into the mountains, but so far nobody has come back with any riches, so don’t hold your breath.”

“Deep into the mountains it is then. Do you have an inn and tavern? I could use a drink before I go looking for the dwarves. I’m told they might know a bit more, since they’re living in the mountains and all.”

“It is another day or two until you reach the first stronghold of the Iron Empire, but you might want to circle around. They aren’t really known for their fondness of humans.” The guard laughs, closing the gates and leading Cain towards a two story building with a donkey and a beer mug on the sign. 

“There you are. The Drunken Arse, or the Galloping Pint, as the barkeep insists.”

Cain flips the man a copper for his trouble, and the guard follows him in, placing the coin on the counter and receiving a watery looking Lager in return. 

He chats with the innkeeper for a moment, before the old man brings Cain a drink. “One silver a night, includes breakfast and all you can drink before I close up. The ale is made in house, but for a little extra I’ve got some fine cherry wine.”

Cain looks over at the flat and warm beverage the Guard is drinking and leaves a silver and five copper on the counter. “Let’s have a go at that cherry wine. A little change of pace.”

Neither man knows much about lost cities, ruins or Ancients but they’ve got a lot of knowledge about the Dwarves. As expected, there are border skirmishes fairly often, which increase the tension between nations, but according to the innkeeper once you get past the military forts at the front lines, things get a lot more relaxed and the dwarves are almost tolerable to get along with. 

For a grumpy old man, that’s high praise, and Cain is looking forward to higher quality liquor. He has a small supply with him, but he really doesn’t want to finish it this early in to his journey. Plus, the cherry wine is better than average. 

Breakfast in the morning is heavy on the roasted potatoes and vegetables, with a side of eggs, and Cain is soothed by the familiar tasting food. He believes this is likely the past of the same world, so the similarities and differences are quite intriguing to him. 

The tavern here has a crude map on the wall as well, and Cain finally knows where he is. In modern times, this would be the steppes north of Skyview in the Central Continent. 

In his time, there are no forests here, only open grasslands. How and why they changed, he doesn’t know, but with the devastation of the great war, many regions had not only their plant life but their landmarks and even climate changed. 

If he makes it far enough northeast, he might even get to see Muzz before it was abandoned, and before it was under a desert.

That might be a long shot, and he is hoping to have his quest done before that, but if he has the chance, Cain is totally going to find one of the mopeds in good working order and study it. Maybe even learn a repair manual. 

Setting out again, Cain isn’t expecting trouble, but it finds him anyhow. “Halt for the banner of the King. All able bodied men have been drafted into the service of the crown for the War effort against the Iron Empire.”

The voice comes from a pimple faced young lordling with a few dozen guards behind him. Cain considers eliminating them, but they should have an army nearby if they’re forcibly recruiting. 

“I am Duke Cain of Skyview, not one of your local peasants. Watch your tone with me young man.” Cain demands and the guards immediately draw their swords. 

Perhaps he should have inquired about foreign relations other than with the dwarves last night at the tavern.