Not even moving his arms, Jarrod tried burrowing his head down into the ground, trying to make sure his breath couldn’t be heard. Remembering his early year hunting lessons, if he had his eyes open it would be the most easily seen – the whites of human’s eyes were the most easily spotted, moonlight reflected off them brilliantly. Other than that, quick movements would be seen, followed by hearing in a dark quiet night. Sure, there was the occasional animal noise, but definitely not enough to cover human-made noises.

In the dark, with no support around him, cold but for his cloak, Jarrod started to question his most recent life choices. He regretted nothing about taking on the dungeon solo, or immediately after levelling. He did question why he only got access to The Other to be his divine patron, but he had never heard of anyone else at his level who had access to any of the items he had earned. Especially if they weren’t gifted to them as often the scions of noble families were. At least that’s what the rumours he had heard tale of.

What he did question, most definitely however was the decision to leave home. Leave home without support, striking out on his own, with what was in hindsight a very half-formed plan. He left without a clear idea of where Stonemaul was, he could’ve worked in Woodend for a few more months and waited for a caravan. Now here he was with some other people out looking for him. Surely though, other humans, they wouldn’t attack him, would they? Not when there were so many different things out there that would attack and kill humans.

Just as he prepared to raise his head and call out, trying to summon his courage which when facing goblins was there front and centre, had deserted him in the dark when he was alone. As he laid there the two looking for him had walked beyond the range of his hearing, the soft murmur of conversation falling by the wayside. Gently sighing to himself, he remembers a story told during his childhood. He had disregarded it as he had gotten older and seen more of the outside world himself, or at least the outside world that visited Woodend.

It was a story in which normal humans, a mercenary group known as The Free Company had become dissatisfied with their own lot, they looked at their contemporaries, how much further they progressed faster than The Free Company. The dungeons their contemporaries delved garnered them faster levels, more resources, better magic items. The Free Company started to fall further behind the other mercenary companies they stopped winning the good contracts, they had turned from holding and fighting back against the forces of Chaos, the one job ALL mercenary companies fought for, to holding the line against more basic monsters which any base tier humans could manage to do. The Free Company grew increasingly desperate, their numbers dwindling, their prestige fading, no longer able to rely on glories of past conquest. In their desperation they turned to the forces of darkness. In the night, out of sight, they turned to a Chaos Lady in return for enhancing their members personal power massively there was a simple cost. All she asked of the Free Company, was the Free Company let their guard down on the final Chaos Rift they guarded. The one that had been guarded since the inception of the Free Company, over fifteen thousand years earlier. The Rift that stood as the entrance to the 5th shard of the Human Imperium. In the chasing of power to bring themselves back to where they believed they deserved to be The Free Company had condemned over three million humans to death at the hands of the Chaos forces, as well as depriving the Imperium of their primary source of Mithril ore. The Empress herself descended as a force of holy fury, driving back the Chaos forces but it was already too late. The shard had been fully ravaged and there was nothing left to save. She hunted down the three top echelons of The Free Company and made an example of them. All remaining members were forever banished from the Imperium, with a kill on sight order issued and a bounty available per member.

Now Jarrod found himself questioning whether those he had come across last night was a part of these remnants. The more he thought about it, the more he remembered what was wrong. They weren’t just unkempt, but they were dirty. Their clothes in poor repair, their equipment in terrible condition. Whilst it wasn’t unheard of, even in the back of beyond that Woodend was to have humans attack other humans for personal gain, it was exceedingly rare. The humans were simply outnumbered by so many other forces that it just wasn’t worth attacking other humans.

These thoughts roiling through Jarrod’s mind lulled him back to sleep, drool pooling below him as he rested on his arms, never more thankful that he wasn’t a snorer as he awoke. The reason for his wakening was quickly discovered, the bright sun showing it was clearly late morning as it shone directly in his eyes clearly the rude awakening last night along with his continued walking had left him more tired than he thought. Slowly shuffling his way free from beneath the heavy shrubbery that had been his bedroom, he shook his head trying to clear the cobwebs and took stock of his situation. Food levels, poor, ankle state, worrying, water levels; shouldn’t be an issue as long as he followed the river.

Leaving his impromptu bedroom Jarrod continued following the river Westwards, whilst keeping an active eye out for any more unkempt men. After three or four hours of walking Jarrod came to another split in the river. The main passage continued Westwards, whilst a minor tributary seemed to have been flowing from the North meeting the main river here. Also, the very first sign he had seen since leaving Woodend “Callie’s Stagecoach Inn and Tavern, half a day West”. Clearly a sign that had been left in case there were merchant caravans that had started considering setting up for the night and instead would be able to push on, increasing the take for Callie, whomever they were.

The thought of an inn, somewhere he could get a warm meal, restock his supplied and potentially even a hot bath filled Jarrod’s head as he set off in that direction. Casting a single quick flitting glance North, he saw nothing of interest even if the view had been less than a second. His head filled with the idea of hot flaky pastry, warm sausage, eggs, gravy all served with a nice dark beer Jarrod took a quick breath and carried on West. He didn’t push his speed, going at a pace that would leave his ankle intact.

As the sun was slowly easing towards the horizon that evening, the thoughts of food had become all consuming. His sack of provisions had become completely empty, subsisting entirely on water since lunchtime Jarrod had a gnawing in his stomach. Then, on the wind he smelt smoke, the good kind of smoke from a hearth or a kitchen. As he crested a small hillock, he saw nestled in the valley on the other side against the flank of the river a very homely looking inn. Made from sawn planks, weathered a deep brown stood a two-story building. The upper floor from the outside had a number of smaller looking rooms with shutters drawn whilst the lower floor from the outside had three large windows, all with the shutters open. It was still too light for any candles, but the triple chimney stack had smoke from hearths and cooking ranges pouring forth from it. Off to one side stood a large stable with room for a number of beasts, as well as a covered area for carriages in the back yard.

It had three large fields around, two held grain crops whilst the third held a mixed flock of cattle and sheep. There was a fantastic looking small vegetable garden and herb garden up against the edge of the inn.

His heart and stomach sang out as one, whilst the inn looked to have a few customers with a pair of wagons in the back yard it definitely wasn’t filled to bursting. Walking in the front door, conversations that were being held on a number of round circular tables stopped as all eyes turned and regarded the newcomer. There was sat around three tables around a dozen folk who looked like either caravaners or the guards who would join them. Whilst situated behind a long bar of polished wood stood the largest woman Jarrod had even seen. She must have been nearly 7 feet tall, and it wouldn’t have been too much of an exaggeration to say that she was nearly that wide in the shoulders. He had a feeling that this must be Callie and if he messed up here, she could quite easily end him.

As the door swung close, the rest of the patrons realising he was the only person entering returned to their conversations and their cups. A few empty plates of food say before them. In turn the woman behind the bar gave a big matronly smile towards him.

“Welcome my lad welcome! Are your parents going to be joining as well? Do you have any horses that we need to get the stable hands to take a look at?”

“N-n-n-no. S’, just me” He stuttered in response to the full impact of her gaze. “I’m eighteen, had my awakening a few days, maybe a week ago now, travelling to Stonemaul”

“Stonemaul aye? Well then, you’d best let Callie get you fed up! Put some meat on those bones, you look like scraps of flesh hanging on bones. What will it be m’lad? We have a great beef stew on tonight”

“I’d like a bowl of stew, as well as a nice dark beer if you have one. How much would a room be for the night as well please?”

“Right-o lad, no problem. I’ll get Gus to get you one of the stews now, room and food and drink will set you back two silvers for the lot”

Handing over the cash he took a seat at an unoccupied table whilst Callie poured him a beer straight into a stone tankard from one of the many kegs standing behind the bar. Placing it on his table she gave him a smile and walked through a swinging door clearly leading to the kitchen.

As he settled in with a big sigh taking the weight off his feet and feeling properly secure for the first time since leaving Woodend, one of the caravan guards left their table to join Jarrod at his.

“Well met lad, me names Cliff. Just wondering which way you’d come from and if you’ve seen owt we need to keep an eye out for? We’re due to head North afore long, help set up the new town.”

“North? No Sir, I came from the far East, small village called Woodend, pretty sure that’s as far as civilisation goes in this shard. What’s North? A new town? That must be a pretty expensive undertaking, right? Only thing I’ve seen was last night some rough looking types – didn’t rob me or nothing but definitely mad me uneasy.”

“Hmm, thanks for the warning, best we keep an eye out, but if they let you get away, a young lad on his own, shouldn’t be too much to worry about. As for the new town? Couldn’t rightly say how much – but the why? Well haven’t you heard? There’s been a new dungeon found. No one’s sure yet if it’s a wooden tier one, or it might even be tin!”

With that he gave a nod and left Jarrod to his thoughts. If it was indeed a wooden tier dungeon, he could complete that potentially and then Stonemaul as well and his quest would be over. Forget it taking a full cycle like The Other had granted him, imagine if he was done within a few months. He would have so much time to himself!

As these thoughts chased themselves around his head, a small stocky man with a very big beard came out and handed him a bowl of stew with a thick hunk of bread with lashings of fresh butter.

“Here y’ar lad, enjoy. If you like there’s plenty more to come.”