You push onward, the gentle upward slope making your leg muscles work a little harder, though your enhanced Constitution means you barely feel fatigued. The path continues to wind through the woods, hugging the side of the hill. Every few minutes, you glance down at your silver watch. The hands tick steadily onward. When you first woke up, you vaguely registered it being around 7:00 AM based on the light. Checking it now, it reads 8:15 AM. You've been moving for over an hour since waking, maybe half an hour since the goblin encounter.
Your thirst is becoming a persistent, nagging dryness at the back of your throat. You swallow repeatedly, finding little relief. Your stomach rumbles occasionally, reminding you that the 'Slightly Hungry' status is now definitely 'Hungry'. You scan the edges of the path more desperately now, listening with focused intensity for any hint of moving water. The sounds of the forest remain unchanged – birds, wind, insects, the scuff of your sneakers on the dirt.
As the path crests the small hill and begins a gradual descent on the other side, a new sound faintly reaches your ears. It's subtle at first, almost masked by the other noises, but it's there – a low, constant murmur. You stop, holding your breath, straining to pinpoint the direction. It seems to be coming from somewhere ahead and slightly downhill, off to the left of the path. Hope surges. Water?
You follow the path a little further, maybe another fifty meters, and the sound grows slightly louder, resolving into the distinct, burbling rush of flowing water. Looking through a gap in the trees to your left, downhill from the path, you spot it: a small stream, perhaps two meters wide, cascading over smooth, grey stones, sunlight glinting off its surface. It looks clear and cool.
Relief washes over you, potent and immediate. Water. Finally. The stream is maybe twenty meters downhill from the path, requiring a short detour through relatively light undergrowth. The main path continues straight ahead, seemingly ignoring the nearby water source.
Time: Mid Morning (Approx 8:20 AM)
Date: 01/05/1042
Character: Keelan
Status:
- Hunger: Hungry
- Thirst: Thirsty -> Very Thirsty
- Stamina: Near Full
(Inventory Unchanged)
Relief guiding your steps, you veer off the packed earth path and push through the ferns and low bushes towards the sound of the stream. The undergrowth isn't thick here, and within moments, you're standing on the mossy bank of the small, clear brook. The water chuckles and burbles as it flows over smooth, time-worn stones, sunlight dancing on its surface. It looks wonderfully clean and inviting.
Kneeling down, you pull out your empty sports water bottle. You rinse it quickly in the cold stream, then hold it under a small cascade pouring over a rock, letting the clear water fill it to the brim. Screwing the cap on tightly, you set the bottle aside for a moment and cup your hands, dipping them into the stream and drinking deeply. The water is icy cold and tastes incredibly fresh, soothing your parched throat instantly. You drink several mouthfuls, feeling the revitalizing coolness spread through you.
With your thirst quenched for now, you sit back on the mossy bank, your full water bottle beside you. You take a moment just to breathe, listening to the peaceful sounds of the stream and the forest. This small pocket of tranquility feels welcome after the tension of the morning. You look around – the tall trees, the unfamiliar plants, the clear water flowing over ancient stones. It's beautiful, in a wild, untamed way, but also alien.
Your thoughts inevitably drift back to your situation. Transported to another world. An AI, Oracle, in your head. Monsters like goblins are real. Your old life feels impossibly distant. Find my way home? The thought surfaces, but feels futile almost immediately. Oracle called this a "new reality," not a detour. Getting back seems like a fantasy even within this fantasy world. Pushing that heavy thought aside for later – much later – you focus on the immediate. One step at a time. First goal: find civilization. A village, a town, even just an outpost. Somewhere you can get information, proper supplies, maybe some local currency, and ideally, a roof over your head that isn't foliage. The footprints on the path are still your best bet.
Feeling somewhat refreshed and centered, you take one last look at the peaceful stream, then stand up. You tuck the now-full water bottle securely back into your bum bag, check the dagger in your jacket, and make your way back up the slight incline to the path.
Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.
Rejoining the track, you continue your journey, following the footprints and the path as it leads you further downhill and deeper into the woods, your senses once again alert for any potential encounters.
You walk for another twenty minutes or so. The trees seem to thin slightly ahead, suggesting a change in the terrain or vegetation.
Character: Keelan
Status:
- Thirst: Very Thirsty -> Hydrated
- Stamina: Near Full -> Full
(Inventory: Empty sports water bottle -> Full sports water bottle)
(Currency, Clothing, Worn Accessories, Other Bum Bag contents, Weapons remain unchanged)
You settle into a steady rhythm, walking along the winding dirt path. The memory of the goblin fight keeps you alert, your eyes constantly scanning the trees and shadows, your hand never far from the dagger in your jacket. The forest remains your constant companion, though the character of the woods subtly changes over the next hour. The trees seem slightly less dense in places, allowing more sunlight to reach the forest floor, illuminating patches of vibrant green moss and clusters of unfamiliar, broad-leafed plants. The path itself shows more definite signs of use – the dirt is more compacted, and you occasionally spot older, faded footprints alongside the fresher ones you've been following. You check your watch: 9:45 AM.
Another hour passes under the canopy. The sun climbs higher, its rays filtering down more vertically. You continue the steady pace, your athletic build and enhanced Constitution making the trek feel less strenuous than it should. Still, the persistent gnawing in your stomach grows stronger, and you consciously sip from your water bottle to keep thirst at bay, mindful that your supply is finite. The path widens slightly more, enough that two people could comfortably walk side-by-side. You notice what might be faint, parallel depressions running alongside the walking path – possibly the tracks of a narrow cart? Your watch reads 10:50 AM.
As midday approaches, the forest sounds change subtly. The birdsong seems less energetic, replaced by a louder buzzing of insects in the warmer air. The shadows shrink as the sun reaches its zenith. Your hunger is now a constant, demanding presence. You take another swig of water, rationing it slightly now. The path continues its winding descent, and the feeling that you must be getting closer to something grows stronger. Checking your watch again: 11:55 AM.
You round a bend where the path dips sharply for a few meters. Just ahead, perhaps thirty meters off the path to the right, lies an unexpected sight: a small, wooden handcart, overturned onto its side. One of its two wheels is broken, snapped clean off the axle. Scattered nearby are a few burlap sacks, one of which is ripped open, spilling what looks like dried beans onto the forest floor. There are signs of a struggle in the disturbed dirt around the cart – deep scuffs, churned earth – but no bodies, no bloodstains you can readily see, and most importantly, no people. It looks like it happened recently, perhaps within the last day.
You instinctively slow your pace, scanning the trees around the cart. Did whoever did this leave anything behind? Are they still nearby? The scene speaks of trouble – likely bandits or perhaps aggressive wildlife. This path isn't as safe as it might have seemed. You could ignore it and hurry on, or take a closer look – maybe there's something useful left behind, or clues about the danger.
You decide caution is warranted, but the potential for supplies, even discarded ones, is tempting. You approach the cart slowly, listening intently, dagger handle now firmly in your grip within your pocket. The air is still; no immediate sound suggests anyone is lurking. You quickly circle the cart. The scattered beans seem to be the only spilled cargo. The other sacks look intact but perhaps hastily rifled through. A quick peek inside one reveals roughspun cloth; another seems to contain root vegetables, similar to the 'Common Root' Oracle identified earlier. Nothing immediately valuable jumps out, but the vegetables are food. There's no sign of the owner, or whatever attacked them. It seems whoever caused this took anything of obvious value and left quickly.
Deciding not to linger, you grab a handful of the root vegetables from the intact sack – maybe five or six fist-sized tubers – and stuff them into your jacket's other inner pocket. They're heavy, but food is food, even if you need fire to cook it. You give the area one last wary scan, then retreat back to the path, moving away from the abandoned cart at a quickened pace.
You continue walking for perhaps another fifteen minutes, the image of the overturned cart keeping you on high alert. Then, you smell it. Faint, but distinct – the smell of woodsmoke drifting on the breeze. Your pace quickens further. A few minutes later, the trees begin to thin noticeably ahead, replaced by rough pastureland. You hear a new sound, distant but unmistakable: the rhythmic chopping of wood.
Looking through the final fringe of trees, you see it. Nestled in a shallow valley below is a small village. Maybe twenty or thirty simple buildings with thatched or wooden roofs clustered around a wider dirt track. Thin plumes of smoke rise from several chimneys. You can see cleared fields stretching out around the settlement, some dotted with figures working. A wooden palisade, looking sturdy but basic, encircles the core cluster of buildings. You've found it. Civilization. Or at least, a pocket of it.
Time: Early Afternoon (Approx 12:40 PM)
Date: 01/05/1042
Inventory:
- (No change to Currency, Clothing, Worn Accessories, Bum Bag contents, Weapons)
New Item: Common Roots x6 (Stored in jacket pocket)