WP] TIFU by finding North America's lost medieval city

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Day 463

Notebook,

Hey, it's me again. Just scribbling down some thoughts, trying to get my mind straight on the subject at hand while I wind down towards sleep. I apologize for the lacking entries, but I haven't felt like I've had the right perspective for this until just recently.

I'll get on with it.

Collectively, we've finally gone and told Jarl Congrad to go fuck himself, and we're now on our own."

"I guess the Southern Crusade is getting their teeth kicked in by a bunch of Orcs, so Jarl is taking our Northern Expedition down to assist. His scribe network was demanding it, something about "Holy" orders from the Highest Bishops.

That's a bunch of bullshit if you ask me.

Sola and I talked it over, and we decided to strike out on our own. Jarl agreed to let us all go, reluctantly. Considering I was the reason we completed the main objective and he was stupid enough to bet against me, Jarl owes me a large sum of Gold. In the end I don't think he really had a choice in the matter regarding our departure. We shook on it, and broke off to head home.

Frankly speaking, I wish they would all do the same. A raggedy bunch of Adventurers and Northern Doterra men like them really shouldn't be throwing their lives away for a lost cause, and I really do think that's what they're doing. The Baron and Jarl, the small Army under their command: They're all walking to their doom. A strike-force army of 300 or so won't be making a tremendous difference to the Southern Force of thousands, but I guess it's really getting down to the wire.

Whoever is in charge wants a decisive victory, and they're betting it all.

Thankful that's not my business anymore.

I've still got the car and the trailer, Sola and Lars of course; but also the new trio. Sandra, Eron and Julius. Those first two- Eron and Sandra are mages, and the last is a Janitor- or a cleaner? I'm not sure what the difference is, but they're all defectors from the Blackened Spire I guess and they've got some interesting stories. Eron and Sandra are pretty powerful, way stronger than most Mages I've met, but considering I saved them from Jarl's chopping block they've been loyal.

Sandra doesn't like me much though, so I don't think the Eastern Magic Slave Brands have really hurt my chances with them. If I was a real jerk I could make them drop and do the river-dance, all I'd have to do is command them.

Magic can be pretty fucked up sometimes.

Hopefully I can find some mage to take those off once we get back over the walls. Eron and Sandra can't touch them I guess, not even if I order them. Some sort of Slave-Loyalty Fail-safe.

We're only a few miles off now, but the roads are tricky. We'll see how we do.

-J

Day 465

Notebook,

Since breaking away from the Northern Expedition, we've making our way back towards the Eastern Border wall. Our Party is still reasonably equipped. Food, water, vehicle and fuel. Small, but decent enough shelter. I can see the wall now, giant lengthy thing, goes on North and South far as I can tell. Originally I planned on either making up some excuse or bribing the gate keepers to let us back in. Worst case I was going to have Eron and Sandra blow up the gate and make a break for it.

Thing is, I had us stop early today. In fact, I took us off the ancient highway and drove us even further North.

At first I couldn't explain why really, but there was this taste and pull to the air. A strong feeling, like I had to go in a certain direction. A "Longing" maybe, like homesickness taped to a strong magnet. First snow, then the sky... I don't know exactly, but I drove us along a trail until we found what I'd been looking for.

See, I guess a portion of my world must have slipped through "the veil" as Eron was calling it. The "Space between worlds," the "folds," the "realm of Chaos." This list goes on, and I don't really claim to understand everything, but there were streets, fences, houses. All from back home.

Well, not "home," but definitely from my world. The whole place struck me as a small chunk of some upstate neighborhood, not perfectly rural- but with houses that might have been seasonal or summer homes.

It was just like the last time I found something from my world though. Lars and Sola remembered that too: The Subway cars in the mine-shaft. Blood everywhere. There were demons all over the portion of town that came through, and I wasted way too much ammo killing them. Even after that, I know Eron and Sandra torched more than just a few themselves going through the houses looking for things we might be able to use.

Not much was left. It seemed like the town was tearing itself apart to survive.

From what they found, letters and papers- notes scribbled on crusty white boards and old papers. I found a bunch of improvised weapons, medieval style spears made with broom sticks and kitchen knives hidden in the snow banks. Chains with weights on the ends, wooden shields ripped from floor boards and nails. Only one gun, an old pump action- empty casings thrown all over the place. Those people who lived here didn't go down easy or quickly, but they did go down.

With Sola, Eron and Sandra's help, I managed to get the bodies lined up and a pyre lit. Over thirty people, young, old, men and women, a few kids... I think the town got stuck between the worlds for a bit. Theory as it stand, the people here slowly ran out of options. A few weeks under attack from man-eating creatures, no new food or water. I guess I shouldn't be surprised they all ended up dead.

It's a bitter-sweet deal.

I'm glad they didn't give up, but it makes me realize how lucky I am to still be breathing. It's not a huge strech to say I could have easily ended up like they did. I think luck saved me as much as anything else.

-J

Day 466

Notebook,

Supply inventory:

One Remington 870 12 Gauge, three Federal 00 buck shells in the tube. Seems like the old man died before he could fire the rest. Lars pointed the thing at me, clueless. I picked up a few spent casings, but I'm doubting they'll be of use.

An empty 9mm glock and a few dozen spent casings.

3 rolls of duct tape, two rolls of electrical tape

Propane Stove + Three gas cans

Another Shovel

A tool kit, and a bunch of screws

Three water jugs, empty.

Lars has a bag of odds and ends, metal and silverware he thinks we can trade or sell. In my opinion, most things here are useless or broken, but he might be right. I find it more than just frustrated the only cars that made it through were burned out.

One can of tuna, and a big box of Macaroni

Sky isn't blue anymore, and the "taste" is gone- if that makes any sense. For now though, the snow has kept up so we're sticking around another day, making camp in one of the houses that wasn't ruined. It's got a functional fireplace and a chimney, so it's better than crowding into the trailer.

I feel some guilt that the only thing I can really think about has nothing to do with the people who lived in this house we're staying in, or what happened to them. I let those concerns leave me with the flames on the pyre: up in smoke. I'm starting to wonder if all of the madness I've had to deal with has desensitized me a bit, changed the way I think about all "this." For certain, I'm not the same person who came into the world.

All day, I've been staring at the cell phone. Occasionally refreshing the small screen to show the date and time it synced with. There's no point to this, but I almost feel as though by watching it, my own observation might make those numbers and dates shift back to what I wanted them to be. Back to what they were before I got a signal here.

If I think I've changed... Well, my world has too I guess. Maybe I really shouldn't be surprised.

It's warm here. The candle light and the fireplace's dulling glow fights off the chill outside, and I see them resting. These odd people, individuals that were once total strangers who happened have blundered into my life. All of them quietly snoring with calm or happy expressions, and in one's case: drooling slightly on my lap while putting one of my legs to sleep.

Tomorrow, if the snow lets up we'll leave this place. Eron and Sandra can try to melt a path for us, and we'll get back to the road. We'll go back to the wall, and head towards the coast. Sola and I made an agreement that living on a beach and catching fish would be better than flirting with death and disaster for a living.

I feel a strange sense of personal betrayal, somehow. Like I've been focused on the wrong things.

It all makes me wonder if there was any point to that phone call.

-J