Last Drink at The Stilts of Maraga

These memories were written long after they happened. I only learned how to read after, and writing doesn't to be too difficult if you know how to read and you know how to fight!
 
Roughly two years after the death of Liu Han in his fateful duel with Tsao Meng, I found myself working odd contracts as a mercenary for various troops and armies. None paid too well, and as Votar Tok frontier was closed my only option was to head east and make a living. The lands were plentiful compared to the regions between Votar Tok and Criosia, with an almost peaceful living to be found. I refused to work with bandits, but I wasn't beyond killing a few unarmed men to gain an extra coin or two. I earned a decent pouch and enjoyed travelling to new places. Still, people in Criosia were distrusting of my kind and I decided to head East to Maraga. I kept travelling for months, learnt new things a long the way and made a companion or two. I had the pleasure of meeting a wizard that paid good coin for a companion that would be doing rough work and aiding with protection. She was wise, and resilient. Our conversations were good and I learnt a lot from her. When we reached the border between Criosia and Maraga she asked why I headed in that direction. I wasn't sure what to answer, but I did not feel like a warrior in Criosia. Life was too easy.
 
I headed into Maraga, straying from the road. It was a stupid idea, but the mountains were beautiful and the woods plentiful. I spent weeks travelling alone surviving in the wilderness. Then the woods ended, and desolate mountains emerged. I stumbled upon an oddity, a town built on tall stilts on a lake. I camped for the night far off from the lakeside and appraoched it to observe. A few small merchant ships seem to travel across the lake, anchoring next to the village and using ropes to climb up to reach the buildings. A year later I found out this town was not the kind to be found in most maps, mostly the domain of smugglers. It is called Stilts of Maraga. The locals weren't particularly imaginative when it came to names. The morning after I tried to hitch a boat, I know understand why no one wished to help me, they must have thought of me a bandit or were protecting their smuggled goods. I decided to wait for darkness, and wallowed in a river until I grabbed on to a boat that was heading for the lake. I found a rope hanging to one side of the stilts and climbed it to the top. No one batted an eye at a wet half-orc walking across town looking for an inn, people kept to themselves. I did find the inn and slept the night paying a decent price.
 
The next morning I awoke and was provided with a vegetable stew that was decent, and a tankard of beer. As I sat minding my business, fortune offered me an interesting situation. A large Orc surrounded by eight other orcs was sitting in the inn, discussing in Orcish their plans to head north. This would have not been particularly interesting, except for the fact that they mentioned Tsao Meng by name. I could not believe my ears. It must have been another, I had seen him dying, to my eternal regret abandoning him to the wolves. This large Orc, who later I would find out was called Zhang Fao, instructed his small Warfa that their objective was to set up camp north, close to the Gate of Maraga. Tsao Meng's will was for them to establish a colony there and attract capable warriors that could aid his cause and increase their number in Votar Tok. None of that made sense to me, the frontier was closed, and this small group was supposed to bring together a large troupe to return? It sounded like a foolish plan. Still, there was one advantage to this, one of the lessons provided by Tsao Meng as part of his instruction was the law of Shokugeki, and if I beat Zhang Fao in a duel I could take his troops.
 
I decided to follow them to to Maraga's Gate, at a prudent distance, and did so for weeks. It was only when I arrived to that impressive citadel that I realised my weapon needed fixing, so I ventured to find a blacksmith. Or at least someone who could help me find one. I always felt particularly uncofortamble surrounded by people.