ALL NOVEL Chapter 40: My First Capital in Shimoor
On the morning of our sixth day in the wilderness, I stepped out of the tent and saw snow. It was thin on the ground, and I knew it would melt soon, but it was still snow. The air felt crisp and fresh, contrasting to the warmer days we had experienced. I didn’t feel cold, but whether it was because of the actual weather or my enhanced stats, I couldn’t tell. Deciding to pick up the pace, I thought it best to be cautious; it might get colder as we progressed. This extended “shortcut” was more about giving myself time to clear my mind and recharge my social batteries than reaching the destination quickly.
After coffee and breakfast, I packed up the camp, checked the Map to orient myself, and started walking faster toward the city. The sound of crunching snow under my boots was oddly satisfying. After about an hour, we walked between two hills and saw the river and the city about two kilometers to our left. The wide river looked deep, reminding me of the Hudson River in New York. Climbing the hill on my left, I took out my binoculars and surveyed the city. Stretch looked at me, curiosity evident in his eyes.
“I just want to see where we are headed,” I explained to him.
The city was enormous compared to the towns we had visited. It spread across both sides of the river, with two- or three-story wooden houses and larger stone mansions. The stone mansions were behind walls, but the city itself lacked walls. It suddenly occurred to me that in medieval times on Earth, almost everything was behind walls, yet here, this was the first time I saw such fortifications. I suspected the walls were more to separate the nobles from the commoners than for protection. The absence of protective measures seemed strange, considering the potential dangers. This world was peaceful, but I had still bought weapons left from the war.
On the opposite side of the river, a massive mansion or palace, probably the royal palace, stood on a hill overlooking the city, flags flying from the watchtowers. Boats and barges of various sizes moved along the river in both directions.
“Hmm, that can be an option,” I thought. “Maybe Stretch won’t mind a bigger boat?”
Bridges spanned the river, connecting both sides, and people bustled back and forth. It looked nice and peaceful. I hoped it was clean; medieval cities were often quite stinky, according to what I’d read.
Before heading into the city, I opened my Profile to review my skills, remembering my experience with the Appraisal skill. I reviewed all my skills and spells again, ensuring I had forgotten none.
|
Name: John Rue Healer Spells:
Hidden Class: Gate Traveler Level 3 Class Abilities:
Profession: Merchant Level 5 Skills:
Sub-class 2: Wizard Level 2 Wizard Abilities:
General Spells:
General Skills:
Health: 3750/3750 Strength: 27 Stat points: 0 |
My mana had risen again, and once more, I didn’t know why. I activated my Luck and sensed the same direction and “No hurry.” Answers would come soon. Whoever they were, they needed to write the book faster. I reviewed my skills and spells twice to ensure I remembered them all.
I still hadn’t used the Mana Dart—one day...
Descending the hill, we headed towards the city. Approaching a cluster of wooden buildings that looked like warehouses separated from the city, I smelled something unpleasant. I wanted to turn and make a big arc around them, but then I saw leather sheets hanging on lines between two of the buildings.
Tanners?
Tanning was notoriously smelly work in the past. I decided to brave the stink and ask. Spotting two people near one building, I approached them.
“Good day, gentlemen.” I approached them, trying to sound friendly.
They both gave me a funny look, and the older one answered, “Hello, stranger,” with a hint of curiosity in his eyes.
“Are you, by any chance, tanners?” I asked, glancing at the leather sheets hanging nearby.
“Yes...” the older one replied cautiously.
“Would you be interested in buying mukar pelts?” I inquired, hoping to spark their interest.
The older of the two headed inside, limping slightly. “Come inside, and we’ll see,” he called over his shoulder.
Noticing his limp, I asked, “Excuse me for asking, but I’m a healer. What happened to your leg?”
“A war injury from a sword. Got me home early from the fighting,” he replied with a sigh.
“I heard about the war during my travels in the area, but I’m from the islands in the south, which is very far from here. What exactly happened?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“The old king died, and both his sons wanted the throne. Both had nobles who supported them and assembled their vassals to fight. It was a bad time in our history,” he said sadly, shaking his head.
“How did it end?”
“The older prince was killed in the fighting, so the younger ascended the throne,” he explained, his face reflecting the sad memories.
“Sounds unpleasant,” I said, grimacing.
He winced and said, “Very.”
“Would you like me to examine your leg to see if I can help?” I offered, trying to sound reassuring.
He looked at me suspiciously and said, “I saw a healer once. He charged me a silver for the consultation and said he couldn’t help.”
“I won’t charge you for checking. If I can help, I’ll tell you the price in advance,” I assured him, meeting his gaze steadily.
“Let’s see those pelts first, and I’ll think about it,” he said, nodding towards the door.
I took out all eight pelts I had collected and showed him. He examined them all and pointed at the first two pelts I collected by “exploding” the bison. “You didn’t do an excellent job there,” he said, pointing at the other six. “Much better.”
“I was learning. Thanks for complimenting the rest,” I replied with a smile.
“I’ll give you three silvers for the bad ones and six for the good ones, totaling four gold and two silvers. Is that acceptable?” he offered, looking up from the pelts.
“Yes, thank you,” I said, nodding. “Do you want me to check your leg?”
He hesitated momentarily and said, “Go ahead, but I’m not promising I’ll pay for the healing.”
“No promise needed,” I said, taking a step closer.
Upon diagnosing him, I discovered that he had severed muscles. I knew how to fix that after treating Stretch when we met.
“I can heal your leg, but it’s more complicated than just casting a healing spell. I’ll need to put you to sleep so you won’t feel anything, cut your leg open, regrow parts of your muscles to reconnect them, remove scar tissue, and heal the leg. It will take a while, and you will be starving and tired after the healing. If you eat and rest more than usual before I treat your leg, the hunger and tiredness will be less severe. The healing will cost you one gold,” I explained, watching his reaction.
He thought for a minute and asked, “Can my wife be present when you heal the leg?”
“Of course,” I replied, nodding.
“I need to think about it and talk to my wife. Where are you staying?” he asked, scratching his chin.
“I don’t know yet; I just arrived. Do you have a recommendation?” I asked, hoping for a good suggestion.
He thought momentarily and said, “Cross the second bridge from here, head straight, and turn left on the third street; look for the Peaceful Nights Inn.”
“Thank you. I hope I’ll see you again,” I said, giving him a nod of appreciation.
It occurred to me that while I had learned to speak the language, I couldn’t read it. I needed to buy the ability to learn written Shimoorian and spend the mana.
Bye-bye, another Ability Point.
Following his directions, I quietly sang “Bye Bye Miss American Pie” by Don McLean under my breath.
“A long, long time ago,
I can still remember...”
Stretch occasionally howled quietly as a background singer; he was adorable. I told him that, and he responded with paws on my shoulders and a lick from chin to forehead.
The city surprised me in a pleasant way as I entered. I didn’t know what to expect, but it still surprised me, perhaps because I had expected something from Earth’s history. The city was spacious and spread out. The streets had cobbled stone and were very wide. There were no sidewalks, but short spikes along the road marked a clear distinction between the cart lanes and the pedestrian paths. Four carts could drive side by side on the street, and the pedestrian section had occasional merchant stalls selling food or trinkets that didn’t impede traffic at all; there was enough room for many people to pass. All the houses stood on plots of land with front and back yards, and there was enough space between houses to fit another house. It made sense. I had traveled in the wilderness for weeks without seeing towns or cities; they had a lot of space.
From what I could see, there was no separation by area between the rich and the poor. The variety of homes stood in stark contrast to each other, emphasizing the city’s unique blend of wealth and poverty. I walked by two tiny wooden houses, maybe one bedroom each, their exteriors weathered and faded by the elements, with chipped paint and sagging roofs. Overgrown weeds filled the small front yards, and the windows lacked glass, instead having shutters hanging loosely on their hinges. Beside these humble dwellings stood a beautiful three-story house of wood and stone. The house exuded elegance, boasting freshly painted walls, ornate carvings on the wooden sections, and stonework that seemed meticulously crafted. The large windows gleamed, and the front yard was well-maintained, adorned with blooming flowers and neatly trimmed hedges.
Further up the street, I passed a few average two-story wooden homes. These were modest but well-kept, with clean paint and simple but functional designs. The front gardens, though not lavish, showed signs of care, with neatly planted rows of vegetables and a few flowerbeds adding a splash of color. Then, a big walled mansion came into view, dominating the street. The high stone walls surrounded a grand estate, and a guard stood at the gate, his uniform crisp and imposing. The mansion itself was a massive structure of stone and timber, with tall, arched windows and a sprawling front lawn that boasted a fountain and manicured bushes shaped into various forms.
The contrast continued all the way to the second bridge and on the other side of the river. Dilapidated tiny homes with peeling paint and rickety fences stood next to nice two-story or three-story wooden houses that were clearly better maintained, with fresh paint, sturdy fences, and thriving gardens. Big stone houses that on Earth would occupy half a block appeared intermittently, each with large, ornate doors and intricately designed facades. And then there were the giant walled mansions, each a fortress in its own right, with guards, extensive grounds, and opulent designs that spoke of immense wealth. All these different homes, mixed together, gave the impression that the city had spread outward organically, with people building whatever they could afford, creating a patchwork of prosperity and modesty.
While I walked, I looked at all the signs. Initially, I could recognize only some letters, but with each sign, my reading improved. The language abilities were fantastic.
I quickly found the Peaceful Nights Inn, following the tanner’s instructions. It was much larger than the other inns I had stayed in and made of stone, not wood. The common room was long and wide, with three lit fireplaces, one in the back and two on the right-side wall, and over thirty tables, some occupied by people eating an early dinner. Three servers moved between the tables. On the right side was a long wooden bar with two people behind it; one was polishing glasses, and the other was shouting something through a window behind the bar. I assumed it was the kitchen. The right side also had a small stage between the fireplaces.
“It looks fancy. I hope they won’t have a problem with you staying with me in the room,” I told Stretch. He gave the equivalent of a shrug. I shrugged, too; it was the correct response.
Approaching the bar, the shouting man turned to us and said, “Welcome to the Peaceful Nights; sit down, and a server will see to you.”
“If my dog can stay with me, I want to rent a room.”
He looked surprised and said, “Of course it can. It’s a dog, not a horse. Do you want a regular room or one with a sitting room?”
I thought about it and answered, “With a sitting room.” If I’d see patients, that would be convenient.
“One silver a night with dinner and breakfast. Food for the dog is extra.”
I gave him a pouch with 50 copper coins from Earth and said, “Here’s for five nights; I’ll pay more if I stay longer. You can keep the pouch as a gift.”
He examined the coins but didn’t ask about them. It was likely that he saw unfamiliar currency in a capital city with substantial river traffic.
“Third floor on the right, room 34,” he said as he gave me a key. “Dinner is served for another three hours. Welcome and enjoy your stay.”
“I would also like a hot bath in my room.”
Now, he gave me a funny look and said, “Why? Go to the bathhouse; it’s much nicer and right around the corner.”
I thanked him, and we went up to the room. It was very nice. The sitting room had a fireplace with five armchairs in front of it. A small dining table on the right side had two chairs and an enormous window overlooking the street. The bedroom was smaller, with a twin bed, a large chest at the foot of the bed with the key sticking out of the lock, a small table with a bowl, cup, and pitcher of water, and a door leading to the toilet. Unfortunately, there was still no plumbing; it was just a seat over a bucket that had to be carried out.
Maybe I should ‘invent’ plumbing and sell the idea.
The thought made me snicker.
I decided to visit the bathhouse tomorrow; I just wanted to relax, sleep in a nice bed, and explore the city the next day.
We had dinner in the room from our stock; I spread Stretch’s blankets for him, petted and scratched him a bit, and we went to sleep.
Tomorrow, we would see what the city had to offer us.