Where None Dare Venture: Chapter 1
"Yet another day passed by," said Mikri, mostly to herself. Her round eyes gazed upon the patrons of the inn, lazily swaying from a corner of the main room to the next. Shouting and laughter filled the thick air, blending with the smells of rain, sweat and cheap booze. The room hadn't seen so many travelers in a while; there were but a handful of people on the Meridian daring enough to reach the End of the World, the last stop before the wilderness that stretched for hundreds of darhii1 beyond the border. Mikri took a sip from her almost-empty mug, letting the spicy beverage slowly burn her stress down. "Tsch. Could've used more alcohol." She downed the remaining liquid, turning towards the giant of a man that was the innkeeper.
"Better get ye' bum back to work, Mik." The innkeeper's coarse voice cracked, his left eye staring at the woman. "Remeber the deal. Either pay the room ye'r using, or help in the kitchen. And Caretaker2 bless ye', 'cause me eyes haven't seen ye'r coin in a damn long time," he continued, taking the empty mug from Mikri's hand and placing it among the other dirty dishes in one smooth move. Mikri scoffed, taking a quick glance at the tower of plates, guarded by various cups, mugs and glasses, almost none resembling the others, a true party of misfits that mirrored the drunkards who'd used them. "The day is not over, Halias. I'll find myself a rich worm to take on a tour, you'll see." She let a small laugh escape. "I'll give you enough coin to shut you up for months!" The man just rolled his eyes as he moved towards the kegs. "Ye say that ev'day, lass. If ye don't wanna help with the guests, at least go out and clean the plates." He stopped for a moment, then turned to Mikri: "After the storm passes, 'course."
As the large man made his way towards some thirsty patrons, Mikri took a last look around the inn. A cloaked figure, hidden away from the others, sitting alone at a table... a traveler? "Certainly a new face," the girl thought, squinting her little eyes, trying to catch the face of the unknown person. "Well, why not," she shrugged to herself, "it's either this weird guy or washing the dishes." She slowly approached the veiled person, preparing her introduction in mind. "Afternoon, kind traveler!" she started, taking a seat in front of the mysterious man. Their face was hidden behind some sort of mask, or perhaps a piece of marble cut in the shape of a face, however devoid of any semblance of human, elf, kirfolk or anything. The traveler slowly raised their palm. "Warm greetings, stranger. One humbly accepts the hospitality." Mikri frowned for a moment, before raising her palm in response: "One is welcome in a stranger's home." She remembered the old greeting taught by the Old Religion; finding a believer was far from uncommon, but a worshipper of the Stranger...
She dispelled the thought for now. A potential customer is a potential customer, and the coin shined the same, no matter the hand holding it. "Can a stranger offer her services to one who may want to... explore these dangerous lands?" she questioned, trying to get a feel for what kind of person she was dealing with. The hooded figure nodded gently: "One is blessed to hear such a proposition, for one is but a stranger in a stranger's world." She exhaled slowly... there was money to be made here. Finally, someone who looked interested in venturing deep inside the Other Side of the World. Mikri opened her arms, both palms up. "A stranger has ventured the wilderness not a few times," she spoke slowly. "A stranger has reached the outskirts of the Rift... and lived to tell the tale. Not many humble people can say the same, be they strangers or not. For a honest price in coin, a stranger will journey with one, from the stranger's home and back." She looked at the mask, but there was no tell to what the veiled person was thinking.
They both stood in silence for a while; Mikri kept her composure, yet small droplets of sweat were forming slowly on her back and neck, her body betraying her nervousness. "Either this shady-looking guy trusts me with their life, or I remain on kitchen duty for who-knows-how-long..." she thought, biting her lip unconsciously. The traveler's head suddenly jerked, as if they had been asleep until just then, startling the girl as well. "One would gladly accept such offer. Ten pieces of gold coin now, the rest upon our return. One wishes to explore what a stranger calls "the Rift." One will pay for each day of exploring. Does the stranger agree?" A gloved hand appeared from under the veil, a man's hand, Mikri judged from the size. "Merchant bare witness. A stranger accepts one's proposal", the girl said as she shook the adventurer's hand. The deal was done, the Old God of Trade a witness. "Splendind! One shall be waiting for a stranger here, when the sun breaks the skies in the morning." His voice sounded surprisingly light-hearted. "Travelbound we shall be, starting tomorrow. One can be called "Alh'igri"... and a stranger...?" "A stranger may be known as "Mikri" by her fellow travelbound", the girl answered, smiling. "May our travel be prosperous", the voice came as a response.
The coins clinked on the innkeeper's table. Halias raised his eyebrows, taking the money in his hand, biting one of the coins, as if the gold might be a trick of his mind. Mikri grinned. "What was that about doing the dishes...?" she said. "What was that about not seeing a coin from me...?" The man frowned, shaking his head. "Where did ye' get this coin from, lass? Me eyes caught ye' talking to that freak early." He gently put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm no sure he means good business. Best to stay far from trouble." The woman pushed his hand down. "I'm not a child, Halias! And I can't let an opportunity like this pass me. Who knows when I'll get another new face willing to pay for guidance around these parts! You should be happy for me-" She stopped, catching the old man looking at her, his brown irises filled with something Mikri couldn't explain right away, a feeling she had never seen on his wrinkled face, not once since she was little. He was worried for her.
"Look, Halias, I'll be fine. I have traveled to the Rift and back many times, you know that well. I promise I will be okay." She tilted her head slowly while rubbing her neck. "I also promised to take the job, with the Merchant as my witness. You know I can't just walk away now." The inkeeper sighed. "No need to promise me nun'. I'll make ye' something for the road. Just make sure ye' don't lose yer' head, and keep yer' eyes peeled on that masked freak. I've seen him praying to the Stranger when he entered. Ain't no good thing coming from people like him," he growled. "Nothing but coin," she said with a little smile, an attempt to lighten the mood. "And coin shines bright no matter the hand, right?" "Yeah, yeah... Stay out of trouble, ye' hear? Yer' life's worth more than your bum made of gold." The innkeeper walked away slowly, letting out a coarse laugh. "And, Caretaker bless me, that would be more gold than I've seen my whole damned life!"
11 darhum is roughly equal to 2.1 km.
It is a unit of distance dating back to the age of the Old Empire.
Nowadays, the darhum is considered the standard unit of distance across the Meridian.
2The pantheon of the Old Religion is made of seven deities, each of them overlooking and helping the tribes and races of believers across the Meridian.
The Old Gods are known as: the Architect, the Oracle, the Ironsmith, the Caretaker, the Merchant, the Huntress and the Stranger.
Each believer may pray to any of the Old Gods, depending on their daily needs; however, they may devote their spiritual life to only one of them.
Congratulations on completing the first chapter of "The longest journey". As promised, here is a little memento to remember your travels - I hope to see you in chapter 2!
Unfortunately, there was a slight mixup with the article link for chapter 2. Here is the correct link for Chapter 2. Hope to see you there!