The next day, I was lifted and taken to the outside world for the first time by a hefty and also flatulent guard. We were in an ornate courtyard, with a beautiful garden and a central pond with a golden horse acting as a fountain. It was easily the most beautiful place I had ever seen, which wasn’t surprising when I realized I’d never really left my hometown. Heck, even in my hometown I had only really seen a few places—my schools, gas stations, my crappy job, and comic bookstores. It was another reminder of all the things I missed during my first life. Sure, this place was great—but how many had I missed out on when I had been a person, walking with my own legs, as opposed to a trashcan, being carted by a guard who kept farting when he thought no one could hear?
At the edge of the courtyard was a narrow gate, and beneath it were Vivi, Athella, Malbella, Odval, and Stelheim. They bowed as I arrived, Stelheim going out of his way to get as low as possible to really sell it. It was annoying how obviously crooked this guy was, even if I didn’t know about the demonic horde thing. Oh well, that would have to be a problem for another day, assuming I made it another day.
The guard placed me on a small cart driven by a donkey. Mug clambered onto the cart, holding onto the shoddy reins. It seemed like I wasn’t really getting much special treatment even though I was the assumed Lugenheld. I guess this was also a test of my character. Would I complain and ask for more, or would I be able to make do with the bare minimum? Well, I had been a sort of involuntary minimalist in my first life, so this lack of luxury barely registered. Stelheim stepped forward and spoke, his melodious voice dripping barely concealed sarcasm.
“Oh great Lugenheld! We offer you this humble steed and rider to act as your guide towards the southern mines! The king, in his infinite wisdom, knows that you will be able to complete your divine mandate even if you are given next to nothing! As I have a little knowledge of the grand tradition of the Lugenheld, he has asked me to say a few words. And they are as follows: good luck! Make us proud! Bring glory to the Nation of Aeternia! Or do not return! I do not care about the goblin! Also, on the way back, bring me a scone from Daisy’s Bakery! It’s on the edge of town, you’ll pass right by it, can’t miss it! Good hunting!”
I didn’t answer with a note, hoping for an air of mystery or nobility. I don’t think I quite hit the mark, but it would speed things up. As Mug pulled the reins to get the donkey to move, I saw Vivi mouth a silent ‘good luck’. Well, at least I had one person pulling for me.
Then, we were off. The trip through the city was like nothing I had ever experienced before. In a lot of ways, it seemed like a standard fantasy town; millers, bakers, candlestick makers, soldiers, peasants, and all sorts of other workers toiling and laughing and crawling and eating and speaking in a chaotic symphony. No one seemed particularly unhappy, save for one man in a stockade we passed who was being pelted with tomatoes, but the sign next to him proclaimed him a goat thief and peeping tom, so it was really his fault. Other than that though, people seemed happy, healthy, and busy.
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Until we got to the edge of town. Suddenly, the tidy brick buildings became dilapidated and crumbly, and the voices less cheerful and more suspicious, angry, and sad. Once we passed out of the city walls, it became even more dreary. Here, there were lepers and beggars and cripples, as well as non-human humanoids such as orcs, gnolls, and even a few destitute looking elves. It painted an ugly picture; the productive or well-connected citizens living a life of comfort and stability, while the less fortunate languished in squalor just beyond the hills. I knew Odval was a bad king, but I hadn’t seen the effect it had on his people until now. Sure, I had seen a few unjust beheadings, but what ruler didn’t go for the old reliable occasionally?
I had an idea as we travelled. I hadn’t really tested my Appraisal 3, besides looking at my stats and mana costs in the internal menu. I wanted to see what it could tell me about other things though. I reached out to Mug’s earring with my mind.
‘Hey Mug! Get inside me, I wanna try something!’ Mug cowered at the request.
“So, this is how it ends for poor Mug, eh? Eaten by the Master Lugenheld in order to free weight? Well, just kill me fast, I beg of thee, to end my pitiful suffering quickly.” I sighed in my mind.
‘No one is killing anyone. Listen, just get in, will you? I want to, eh, perform a heavenly diagnostic on you.’ He seemed unconvinced but dutifully removed my lid and crawled inside. I felt my Appraisal skill activate inside my mind’s eye as Void spoke to me.
APPRAISAL 3: CREATURE IDENTIFIED AS ‘MUG’. SPECIES: ORC. LEVEL 3. HIGHEST STAT IS STRENGTH AT 7. SPECIAL ABILITY DETECTED: MIND BODY CONNECTION. THIS CREATURE’S GROWTH INTRINSICALLY TIED TO SELF IMAGE. SPECIAL ABILITY DETECTED: DENSE TENDONS. THIS CREATURE’S STRENGTH STAT NOT CAPPED BY CONVENTIONAL FORCES OR STANDARD GROWTH TABLES.
‘Void, are you sure? This guy, an orc? Aren’t orcs like, big and muscly and scary warrior types? Cause I wouldn’t bet on this guy in a fight with a large rat.'
APPRAISAL 3. CREATURE IDENTIFIED AS ‘MUG’. SPECIES: ORC.
Guess that answered that. I asked Mug if he was a goblin or an orc, and the tiny guy almost fell out of me laughing.
“Master Lugenheld is a jokester! Of course Mug is a goblin! No one has ever seen an orc with such small muscles or fangs! Sure, Mug is stronger than average goblin, but this is because of Master Edvald’s training! Mug can outrun his dogs and outswim his alligators and even unbury myself from three feet underground! But still, I am no orc!”
Man, Edvald was awful. I decided to let it rest for now but felt unsatisfied. Void seemed certain, and Void didn’t seem prone to making mistakes.
Well, it was a mystery for later. Up ahead in the distance, I could see a mountain and hear the distant swinging of pickaxes striking hard surfaces. We were almost at the cursed mine.
