028 - Starting To Go Native

Steven found it strange to travel by foot through an agrarian nation. It seamed that all the land was either being used as farmland, or range land, or was older growth forest. He asked once about getting some kind of mount to ride, as they passed another herd on the nearby hills. Caspian responded that none of the local horses were for sale, particularly as spring and its chores came into full.

They soon passed into the area governed by Tonif. The range lands gave way to plowed fields with rock walls on their edges. A few of the walls show older split rail fences on or in them. Steven later estimated Tonif itself to be about four square miles, being arranged to a square. The road they traveled followed a river that ran through a culvert through the timber and earth-works walls.

Steven again felt very conspicuous for his size and his costuming. On the other hand he realized that he felt quite comfortable in this town. The market here was larger than in the previous hamlets they had passed. Here Steven was able to get a large enough shirt with sleeves long enough. He also got some local thread. Caspian noticed that Steven felt more comfortable in the market than he had in any time since Caspian had first met him.

Steven left behind both of his t-shirts from home with a fabric merchant, one was already wearing out. He also traded out the blanket he had been using as a poncho for a larger one as long as his coat. Steven looked over the leather merchant stall, and some other market stalls. Last he went to the weapons dealer.

In the weapons stall, Steven inspected and chose a crossbow, with a packet of bolts. This was not a large crossbow; to Steven it seamed almost toy size. But it was large enough. Steven could pull on a metal handle where the bolt of a rifle would be, and with a good yank pull the bowstring to its locks. Then slide the handle forward and seat a bolt. The grip was just a little small for his hand, but the furniture was nearly identical in general form to any submachine gun he had ever handled. Steven would have preferred a longer stock between the grip and shoulder butt, but it was the best available. Steven was surprised by the quality, until he realized that these people had to live by their craft, and so they made the best they could. Caspian dismissed the workmanship on the crossbow, unimpressed. With a shoulder strap attached this took up position over Steven’s shoulder, with the bag of bolts at his right hip.

Steven also inspected the swords. He did not know any specific weapon-smithing, but was surprised at how well he could discern the quality of the workmanship. He sorted through and chose a sword blade without any furniture. The smith was right there with a small forge, anvil, and several tools, and finishing tools. Within an hour this skilled artisan had a proper crossbar, hand grip and pommel attached and secured that fit Steven’s hand. During this time, Steven went to a leather stand and got a leather piece for a sheath for the sword, some fur, and some leather thong and leather straps. While looking over the leather, Steven realized why he felt comfortable, and the setting familiar.

After leaving Tonif, Steven began talking about his realization. “When I was younger, still in high school, my older brother got into a group called the Society for Creative Anachronism. He got me to go along with him several times, to what they called a Renaissance Fair. This last town felt like a fair.”

Steven stopped talking, clearly choked up. Caspian checked his magic senses, and saw Steven’s aura in flux. He let the subject go, despite his curiosity. Eventually he noticed Steven handling and practicing the sword a bit, doing what appeared to be correct, so far as Caspian knew sword play. Caspian picked up the thread of conversation at dinner, by the campfire.

“You appear to respect your sword.”

Steven held it a moment, then put it aside to work on the scabbard.

“I mentioned my older brother, and the SCA. While with them, I learned a bit of basic sword fighting and care. My brother though he could fight. He got involved in a brawl, and tried to use his ‘skills.’ He got knifed and bled out. I never went back to the SCA, and went into the Marines instead. They taught me how to truly fight, and kill.”

Steven had a seam started in the leather, and folded the leather around the sword blade and began sewing it up. For the next while he sewed the seam up the length of the weapon, pulling the seam tight. At the top he attached the small piece of fur, carefully sewing it so that when right side in it would wipe against both sides of the sword blade. When he finished with the fur, he slid the sheath off the sword, and using the open end turned the sheath right-side in. He then proceeded to assemble the leather straps, and cut the whole to length. The next morning Steven attached the straps to his belt, next to his ka-bar knife on his left hip. Lastly, with the sword stuck in his belt as he walked after Caspian, he closed the bottom. It was not high quality work, but it would do.

Journal of Steven Caplan: Day 9

Caspian calls these mountains. They are just big foothills.

Steven and Caspian were a few more days along, had crossed another short mountain range, following a river valley, and had entered a lower altitude forest, and were approaching a village. This forest was in the young leafy-tree stage, instead of the older pine stage. The leaves mostly past bud, showing it to be mid-spring. The loam on the ground soft under foot. The trees stood mostly in clusters, being young enough that the weaker ones had not yet begun to die off. The few pine trees were very tall, thick, and showing fire scarring on their bark, with no limbs in reach from the ground. Here and there were dead and dying falls, large balls of root forming small hills against the larger foothills they were trekking through.

Caspian had made a big deal about a marker they had passed coming out of the mountains into these highland hills. They had entered territory actively claimed by a kingdom. In itself this was not a worry, but many kingdoms charged entrance fees. They still had three days travel to the closest village, most of it range land. Steven had the crossbow out and loaded about half the time, partly in response to the idea of the infantryman’s teddy bear; partly for opportunity to practice against any critter they did not scare off from the sound of their movement.

Steven could sense that Caspian was a bit uneasy, but he kept going along the muddy foot path. Caspian had explained that he preferred game paths to roads, as a bandit was less able to find them away from the roads. But that was not what was making Caspian uneasy. His general unease was getting Steven’s senses on edge.

Aside from the sympathetic unease from Caspian, Steven was feeling frustrated and only his dependence on Caspian kept him from charging off. Steven was feeling alone, with all that gave his life meaning having been striped away or left behind. Partly Steven was in circumstances that he found unbelievable and was unable to cope. Steven was still having trouble with mana and magic. Up to this point he was still not fully accepting of even the idea of mana affecting him, as Caspian warned him occasionally. As Steven dwelt on the negative, it was energizing the negativity in him in a growing spiral. As soon a Caspian realized that Steven was struggling, he realized what he had to do to best help Steven. So Caspian cast a quick spell, and cut Steven off from the mana that surrounded him. This staggered Steven, and left him feeling like he had a cold, all of a sudden.

“What did you just do? What happened?” Steven leaned against a tree to regain his equilibrium.

“I placed a shell around you that has cut you off from the mana around you.”

“What?”

“Why should it matter to you? You don’t think mana is real.”

“Feels like I have a cold. Fine, so this mana is real. Now undo it.”

Caspian shook his head. “The shell will dissipate on its own in a few hours. In that time, you will learn of mana by its absence.”

Caspian noticed Steven stagger a bit as they went on. “You don’t feel well, do you? That is because you aren’t able to draw on the mana around you. You will feel better in the morning.”

Steven continued his mumbling and grumbling, but realized that he was only hearing his own inner voice now, and that earlier he had heard the world echoing whatever he thought. This led him to begin focusing on the positive. The first week of traveling he held himself aloof, but Caspian chided him on this. Steven now readjusted and was solidly on his way to figuring things for himself. As he sat by the fire, he almost sensed the magic shell around him dissipate, but more so it seamed that the colors of the world became more saturated and vivid again. He started to see himself as he really was, in this world, and to act as such.