Sins of the Forefathers: A LitRPG Fantasy Isekai

The next morning found Azarus and I walking down the path to town again, this time wearing packs. Azarus had woken me up much earlier than the usual time that we did. I had no idea what time it actually was of course, because Azarus didn’t own a clock. Apparently, they were hard to come by, with how new the Profession that made them was. All I knew is that the sun had only finished coming over the horizon when I woke up.

As Grey had told me, he’d had a pack ready for me sitting in his room. Honestly, it was smaller than I’d expected for a pack meant to last me over a week. It looked more like a small rucksack, to me. When I’d mentioned that to Grey, he’d just chuckled and told me that it had a small spatial expansion enchantment on it. Apparently, I could keep the bag after my trip.

After a quick breakfast, Azarus and I left his house after saying our goodbyes to Grey. I’d been a little worried about how a disabled man, much less a disabled slave, would survive by themselves. However, Grey had assured me that this was far from the first time that he’d been left alone to fend for himself while Azarus was in Rhoscara.

We spent the trip to town in silence, both of us too tired to carry on a conversation. Before long, we’d exited the side path alongside the manor and reached the town proper. Slouching into ‘slave mode’, I slipped behind Azarus without a word. Azarus didn’t miss a stride, used to this as well. He just straightened up as well, slipping into his more ‘noble’ bearing.

He led us through the marketplace without stopping and near the gate that led out of town. As we got closer to the gate, I could see that the guards that normally stood at either side of it were dozing on their feet as well. Azarus veered left when we got to the gate, walking alongside it. After a short walk alongside the wall, we reached one of the larger buildings that I had seen in this small town. It had multiple floors to it, and it even had a small stable off to the side. But I suspect what was out in front was what we were here for.

It was larger and had a slightly different shape to it, but at this point, I could recognize a wagon when I saw one. Actually, it was so large it reminded me of a train car, if not quite as long. Mostly made of dark wood with what appeared to be steel wheels, it had a canvas hood that stretched from one side to another. Honestly, the construction of it seemed more sophisticated than the wagon I had been transported in. Maybe in magical, pre-industrial fantasy land, wagon construction was bizarrely advanced. Hitched to the wagon were four of the largest draft horses I’d ever seen, patiently waiting to get underway. A team of dwarves were loading crates into the back of the wagon, while a different dwarf was supervising them. Azarus walked right up to the supervising dwarf, calling a greeting as he got closer.

The supervisor turned to face Azarus as we neared him. I tried to keep my head down, unsure of this dwarf’s temperament.

“There you are.” I heard an unfamiliar voice say. The voice had an aged lilt to it, with a similar accent that I had heard from every other dwarf but Azarus. “I was starting to wonder if you were coming at all, with how late you are.”

Late? I thought to myself. This was still the ass-crack of dawn, as far as I was concerned.

“Ah, sorry about that,” Azarus said to the other dwarf, running a hand down the back of his head. I was startled, personally. From my experience, Azarus was pretty standoffish with most other people. The only other person I’d seen him let his guard down with, aside from Grey and I, was Vandimar. I took it to mean that Azarus was more comfortable around this guy. I decided to risk a glance at him discreetly, still aware of the other unvetted dwarven laborers in the background.

Flicking my eyes up, I took him in. Yup, that’s an old dwarf all right. Clean-shaven with craggy cheeks, he nonetheless had long, steel gray hair done up in elaborate braids. The dwarf had a long, hawkish nose and a keen gaze, as evidenced by the fact he immediately noticed when I looked up at him. I hurriedly looked down. Azarus might know this guy, he might even trust him. I didn’t yet.

“Hmm.” I heard from the dwarf. “You said you were taking another along with you, but you didn’t mention they were a slave.” Disapproval was thick in the dwarf’s voice.

I could visibly see Azarus wince from behind him. “Look, it’s complicated, yeah? We can talk about it once we hit the road.”

The other dwarf grunted in assent. “As you say. The boys are just about done, so go ahead and put your sacks inside too. We’ll be heading out in about ten minutes.”

Azarus agreed and walked over to the back of the wagon, with me following. Passing by a few of the workers that were loading crates, he carelessly tossed his own pack inside, hitting the far wall. Conscious of the dwarves surrounding me, I instead carefully set the drawstring of my bag on one of the dull hooks embedded into the walls of the wagon. Azarus stepped away from it afterward, with me following.

Azarus walked out of hearing range of the wagon and leaned against the wall of a nearby building. I simply stood next to him, trying not to look too conspicuous.

“So, what’s his deal?” I whispered to Azarus, careful to keep my head down in order to mask my lips.

“That’s Gren,” Azarus whispered back to me out of the corner of his mouth. “Don’t worry about him, alright? He’s done good by me plenty of times. Once we’re on the road, ya can act normally. He ain’t gonna care.”

I made a small noise of assent. “And the others?”

“What? Who?” Azarus said slightly louder, nearly turning his head to me. I saw a few of the worker's heads turn slightly before getting back to work.

I let a breath out of my nose in frustration. “The other dwarves, dammit. The ones that are loading the wagon.”

Azarus snorted slightly. “Ya don’t got to worry about them. They’re just part of Gren’s crew in town. It’ll just be you, me, and Gren on the road.” He told me under his voice.

I relaxed slightly and kept quiet after that. Azarus did too. After maybe another twelve minutes of waiting while the dwarven workers loaded the wagon, they finally seemed to finish. I was trying not to stare too much, but I saw ‘Gren’ walk over to the workers and have a conversation with them. After a bit of back and forth, Gren deposited a sack of something in the hands of what must have been the lead worker. With mutual nods to each other, the workers started trundling off, some simply heading back into the building that the wagon was sitting in front of. Turning to face our direction, Gren waved Azarus and me closer.

Pushing off the wall, we walked closer. When we were in earshot, the aged dwarf addressed us. “Az, you hop up on the bench with me. You,” He said, pointing to me. “Hop in the back. Got a cot you can sit on near the front.” Before either Azarus or I could say or do anything in return, Gren walked over to the horses and began to inspect them. Since we were standing side by side, I looked over at Azarus and raised an eyebrow slightly. He just shrugged at me and followed the dwarf’s directions, hopping up into the passenger seat on the driver’s bench. I rolled my eyes and walked around to the back of the wagon and hauled myself in.

Despite the number of crates I had seen piled into this wagon, it didn’t seem too cramped inside. With the way that the wagon was built, there was a small gap between the front wall and the driver’s seat where you could see out the front. There was still plenty of room inside to maneuver, with even more room up near the front. Noticing the cot that Gren had mentioned sitting in the left-hand far corner, I shuffled my way over to it and sat down, facing the back of the wagon and resting my back on the front. After a few minutes, I heard Gren climb up into the driver’s seat with a grunt.

“All good?” I heard him say to Azarus. Azarus grunted in agreement. “What about you in there?” Gren asked from the driver’s seat above me and outside the wagon. I started in surprise. “All good?”

I cleared my throat. “Uh, yeah! I’m fine!” I hurriedly answered him.

“All right then.” I heard Gren say. A moment later, I heard what must be a crack from the reins of the wagon. With a few whinnies from the horses, the wagon started moving under their combined might. The wagon was only moving for a few minutes before it stopped again. From the sound of the voices outside, we must have been at the gate. One of the guards began speaking to Gren, and after a short conversation, I heard the guard give an order to someone else. I heard a groan as the large wooden gate began opening. Shortly thereafter, the wagon began moving once more.

Away from the slave town.

……………………………………...

We must have been traveling down the road for maybe fifteen minutes before Gren broke the silence we had been traveling in.

“All right, we’re far enough away. Now, what’s going on Azarus? You know the trouble we could face for bringing a slave to Rhoscara.” I heard Gren to Azarus.

Azarus sighed. “Alright, alright. I get it. But there’s something he needs from there, I figured I’d bring him along for my regular trip.”

“What is it then? He sick? You sick, boy?” Gren said to me.

I sat up from where I had been listening to them speak. “No, uh, I’m not sick. It’s more complicated than that.”

Gren growled in frustration. “You two keep saying that! Well, uncomplicate it for me. Look, Azarus, I’ve known you for years and I like you; I truly do. But I’m going to need a more compelling reason than ‘it’s complicated’ to risk my business like this.”

“Ah…” Azarus hesitated.

I piped in. “It’s because before about a week ago I’d never even heard of the System. I was Unawakened.”

There was a shocked silence outside the wagon for a moment.

“Truly?” I heard Gren say, baffled. “How can you have never heard of the System? What kind of hole have you been living in?”

“He’s from beyond the northern mountains.” Azarus butted in. “Got caught up in an elf raid, and was shipped here. I found him and realized what he was before Magnus,” I heard him spit off to the side. “Could have him executed for being a ‘waste of money’. I took him in and have been trying to do right by him since.”

“Huh,” Gren said thoughtfully. “Alright then, but why does he need to go to Rhoscara? I’m not without sympathy, mind.” He said in my direction. “It’s just that the Florens don’t take too kindly to slaves in their walls. They may not be able to do anything about it, since slavery is legal, but they’ll make life damn difficult for us while we’re there. You know this, Azarus.”

“Yeah, I do,” Azarus said somberly. “But I know people there. Not just, you know, the obvious. They’ll kick up a stink at the gate, and I can ask to talk to someone I know. I’ll try and explain things, and hopefully, we won’t have a problem.”

“Hopefully,” Gren said doubtfully.

Azarus sighed. “Yeah.”

Gren was silent for a moment. “So, I ask again.” He said skeptically. “What’s in Rhoscara that you need so desperately, boy? Can’t be trying to send a message, nobody really has contact with the northern tribes. No messenger worth their salt would risk it.”

“He-” Azarus began.

“I need a second Profession, and we can’t get it back in…” I interrupted him again. I paused a moment in confusion. “You know, I just realized I never asked what the town we just left is called?”

Gren made a sound of amusement. “It’s named Addersfield. Go on then, you were saying something about Professions?”

I coughed into my fist briefly. “Right. Like I was saying, I learned Alchemy from another slave for my first Profession once I was Awakened, but we checked and there was nobody that I could ask to teach me the second one I wanted.” I paused. “Well, at least nobody that wouldn’t kill me for asking.”

Gren hummed. “All right, but, and I don’t mean to be rude boy, you’re a slave now. I understand wanting the Professions you desire the most, but…” He trailed off.

“You see-” Azarus started awkwardly.

I cut him off again. “My mother might not have been Awakened to have the actual Profession, but she was an artist by trade among my, ah, ‘people’.” I wasn’t even lying this time. “I want to be an Artist like her, and Azarus said he knew an Artist in Rhoscara. I asked if I could come with him, and he said yes.”

Gren was quiet for a moment, digesting what I’d said. “I see.” He said quietly. “She was an artist?”

“Yeah,” I replied, just as quietly.

“My condolences, then.”

I shook my head, even though he couldn’t see it. “D-don’t worry about it.” I took a breath. “It was a long time ago.”

“I see,” Gren answered simply.

Azarus remained quiet.

After a moment, Gren sighed. “All right.” He said. “We’ll give it a shot. It might be Rhoscara, but people are unlikely to kick up too big of a stink over this. People haven’t forgotten your own mother, Azarus.”

Azarus just grunted.

All three of us sat in silence for a moment.

“Well,” Gren said, breaking it. “Nothing for it but to go continue, then.”