The Gate Traveler

The docks were a symphony of pandemonium, a bustling nexus of activity that assaulted the senses from every angle. When I arrived, it looked like complete mayhem. People moved with purpose, though their paths seemed erratic, crisscrossing in a frantic dance of urgency. Shouts and bellows filled the air, creating a cacophony that was both disorienting and oddly rhythmic. Workers pushed hand carts laden with goods, navigating the narrow spaces with practiced ease, while others tossed crates to each other with a precision born of necessity.

The air was thick with the tang of saltwater, mingling with the earthy scent of various cargoes—spices, leather, and fresh produce, all blending into an olfactory tapestry that spoke of distant lands and exotic markets. Occasionally, a less pleasant odor would waft by—the unmistakable stench of rotting fish or refuse, adding an unwelcome note to the sensory overload.

Above the din, seagulls squawked, their cries piercing through the human noise, and the steady lapping of waves against the hulls of ships provided a constant, calming undercurrent. The docks themselves creaked and groaned under the weight of the activity, every plank and post contributing its own voice to the chaotic chorus.

Amidst this organized chaos, I noticed a man standing to the side, seemingly detached from the frenetic energy around him. He was writing on something resembling a clipboard, his focus intense despite the turmoil. His presence was an island of calm in the storm, and I made my way towards him, weaving through the crowd of workers and dodging an errant hand cart that threatened to clip my heels.

“Excuse me, sir. Can you tell me where I can inquire about a passage on a ship?”

He didn’t lift his head from his clipboard but pointed to the right and said, “That building over there.” I looked and located the building.

“Thank you.” He grunted in acknowledgment.

I went to the indicated building and looked inside. It had an open first floor with a long counter and three people working behind it. There was a long line of people, and every time one clerk finished with a customer, the next person in line approached. After the chaos outside, I also expected a mess here, but it was orderly and sedate. The air was cooler inside, carrying the scent of ink and parchment.

I waited in line until it was my turn, which took about half an hour. After I approached the counter, the clerk asked, without lifting his head from his papers, “How can I help you?”

“I’m looking to buy a passage on a ship to Talis. Do you know of any ships sailing that way?”

“We mostly know if the ships are going west or east, not specific destinations, especially not Talis, which is very far from here. You have two options: I can give you a list of ships heading west, and you can approach and ask the captains, or you can pay one silver for a dock runner that will go and ask for you.”

“I will pay.” I gave him a silver coin and added, “The passage is for me and my dog, so I need a ship on which I can take my dog with me.”

He lifted his head for the first time and said, “Some captains might have a problem with that; not all dogs can do their business in a chamber pot.”

“I assure you my dog can, and you can promise the captain.”

He wrote my information on a piece of paper and said, “Come back in two days.”

“Two days? Why so long?”

“It’s late afternoon already, and most runners will be heading home. Your runner will start working tomorrow. He needs a day for each side of the river.”

“Thank you. I’ll return in two days.” He nodded, and I left.

Now, I had to occupy myself for the next two days and maybe longer, depending on the ship. I returned to the inn, had an early dinner, and read a book in my room while scratching Stretch’s ears. The inn’s warmth and the fireplace’s quiet crackling created a cozy atmosphere. Stretch lay contentedly beside me, his soft fur warm under my fingers.

The following morning, I approached Loman, who was busy inspecting a shipment of goods. I cleared my throat to get his attention and asked, “Do you have pawn shops in the city?”

Loman looked up, his brow furrowing slightly as he considered my question. “Of course,” he replied, setting down his ledger. “What are you looking for?”

“I thought to go ask about jewelry,” I explained, shifting my weight from one foot to another.

He thought momentarily and said, “I can direct you to two pawn shops I’m familiar with, but if you’re looking for jewelry, I can pass the word between my customers. Many nobles sell their jewelry to buy new pieces.”

“Thank you,” I said, nodding appreciatively. “Please pass the word and direct me to the pawn shops.”

Loman reached into his pocket and pulled out a small notebook. “Do you have paper and charcoal?” he asked, glancing around as if expecting to find some nearby.

I pulled a folded sheet of paper and a pen from my Storage and handed them to him. He took the pen, turning it over in his hand with a look of suspicion. “How do you use that?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Smiling, I gently took the pen back and demonstrated, drawing a quick line on the paper. His eyes widened slightly in surprise as he watched.

“Just write with it like with charcoal.” Now I understand why Rob, the bath owner, looked at me with such interest.

Loman drew a simple map and explained how to find the shops. I asked Stretch if he wanted to come with me and got a yawn in response. Message received, buddy. Message received.

The first pawn shop was everything I imagined when I looked for pawn shops on Earth. It was dark and dusty, with various unrelated stuff on the shelves—precisely what a pawn shop should look like. The air was musty, carrying the scent of aged wood and metal, a hint of decay that spoke of forgotten treasures and long-lost memories.

The owner saw me as I stepped into the shop, his eyes lighting up with a welcoming smile. “Hello, good sir, how can I help you today?” he greeted, his voice warm and inviting.

“I’m looking to buy jewelry,” I replied, glancing around at the various displays.

“Right away, good sir,” he said, nodding eagerly.

He went to the back to get the jewelry, and I looked at one shelf. It was a strange assortment of stuff. On the same shelf were three spoons and a knife that looked like they belonged to the same set made of silver. A pretty doll of cloth and wood made with fantastic craftsmanship. The doll’s face seemed almost lifelike. A tool that looked like a big scraper with raised edges; I was unsure of its purpose. A box with an empty ink well and three feather pens; one of them looked broken. A ring made of iron and an ugly glass bowl shaped like a clawing hand—weird stuff.

He returned carrying a small wooden box and said, “That is all I have right now.”

The box contained three rings with gems, hoop earrings, a medal with a relief of crossed swords and a bird, a delicate tiara with diamonds, and three brooches with gems. The jewelry was all made of gold. I appraised it, and the total was 317 gold.

“How much?” I asked him.

“250 gold if you take everything. Individual pieces will cost more.”

“I’ll take it.” Not even trying to haggle.

I also purchased some pieces at the other pawn shop. When I inquired about additional pawn shops at the second store, I received directions to another one. The proprietor said there were only three in the city.

I didn’t like the look and feel of the third shop; the owner felt wrong and a criminal. I didn’t know if it was my Sense Honesty, Perception, or Luck, but I didn’t want to have anything to do with him.

“Sorry, wrong shop,” I said and left.

When I returned to the inn, Loman told me some people would come to see me later. The smell of roasted meat and freshly baked bread filled the air, making my stomach growl in anticipation. I spent a few hours in front of the fire with Stretch and witnessed firsthand how many pets and treats he was getting from the staff and the customers. He exuded smugness like body heat when I told him they were spoiling him rotten.

In the late afternoon, Loman approached me and said that the first seller was here but would prefer to meet with me in my room; I agreed and went up. In two minutes, there was a knock on my door, and when I opened it, I saw a pretty young woman.

“Hello, madam. Please come inside,” I said, stepping aside to allow her entrance.

She entered, eyes scanning the room before asking, “I heard you are buying jewelry. Is this true?”

“Yes.”

“Can you guarantee that no one will know about it?” she inquired, her voice dropping to a whisper.

“Yes,” I reassured her. “I’m a traveling merchant and don’t know anybody in the city. I’m also leaving in the next few days.”

She relaxed visibly, her shoulders lowering as she produced a cloth pouch from her cloak. Carefully, she opened it and spilled its contents onto the table, revealing several lovely gold pieces. “Will you be interested in those?” she asked, her eyes searching my face for a reaction.

“Depends on how much you want for them,” I replied, picking up a piece and inspecting it.

“250 gold,” she stated, her voice firm.

I appraised them quickly, estimating their actual value at 207 gold, and sensed something fishy about the transaction. “Sorry, madam,” I said, shaking my head slightly. “But the price is higher than their worth, and it’s definitely not the price for second-hand jewelry bought in secret.”

She deflated, her face falling as she muttered, “I told my father my face won’t help get a good price. How much are you willing to pay?”

Sensing that if I bought them for a low price, she might get in trouble with her father, I took a different approach. “You, nothing,” I said firmly. “If your father comes, I will negotiate with him.”

She looked relieved, her tension melting away as she got up. “Thank you,” she said softly, before turning to leave.

After she left, I went downstairs, but Loman told me to go back up and stay in my room. I had more nobles coming, and they didn’t like to be seen selling their stuff. So, I went back up and waited.

Shortly, a gentleman arrived and sold me his late mother’s jewelry. I sensed nothing was wrong, and we negotiated a price we were happy with. After him, another lady arrived. She was selling the jewelry her late husband gave her. We negotiated a reasonable price, and after I promised her not to tell her new husband, she left. The third was again a man selling women’s jewelry. I still sensed nothing fishy, so we negotiated a price, and he wanted a promise I wouldn’t tell his wife. It continued like this until late in the evening. I saw eleven different people, not including the first lady, and only two didn’t ask for a promise not to tell this person or another. I concluded nobles were a special breed.

The next day, I returned to the docks and met with the clerk. He gave me the name of a ship sailing to Talis in five days and where to find the captain.

I found the ship quickly based on its description. It was long and wide, with a relatively flat bottom, at least the part I could see, two big square sails, and upright oars resembling two lines of sentries. I approached the people near the ship docking and asked about the captain. The sea breeze carried the scent of brine and tar, mingling with the constant din of the bustling docks.

After somebody shouted for him so hard that my ears rang, an older gentleman approached me on the dock and asked, “You’re the one asking about going to Talis with a dog?”

“Yes.”

He looked unhappy about the idea and said, “I don’t like dogs on my ship. They do their business everywhere.” He crossed his arms, a deep frown creasing his forehead. “The dock runner promised me I won’t have a problem like this, but I’m unsure if I believe him.”

I thought momentarily, my gaze drifting to the bustling docks before returning to him. “I understand your care for your ship; it is commendable,” I said, trying to sound reassuring. “But my dog is very smart and well-trained as a merchant guard. He can travel on anything with no problems. He does his business in a container. And besides, I am a healer, not only a merchant, and I have a cleaning spell. If he has an accident, I can clean after him.”

I noticed a flicker of interest in his eyes, so I pressed on. “I have an idea: I heard you leave in five days. How about my dog and I board the ship in four days and stay the last day on the ship? This way, you can see for yourself, and if there is a problem, you can kick us off before sailing.”

He smiled then; the tension easing from his face, and held out his hand for a handshake. “If you are a healer, I have no problem even if your dog has an accident.”

I shook his hand firmly, meeting his gaze. “My name is John. It’s nice to meet you. What time do you want us to come in four days?”

“Captain Natan,” he introduced himself with a nod. “Come in the evening. We sail at first light, and I don’t need to test your dog.”

“How much will it cost, and how long is the passage?” I asked, curious about the details.

He considered for a moment, scratching his chin. “Do you want me to feed you both, or do you have your food and water?”

“We have our own,” I replied quickly, not wanting to burden him further.

“Three gold for the two of you,” he stated, his tone matter-of-fact.

“And how long is the trip?” I inquired, wanting to be sure of our plans.

“It will take about two weeks to reach Mormet without stopping, depending on the wind,” he explained. “In Mormet, we stop for at least a week or maybe ten days to unload and load new cargo. After that, it will take eight to ten days to Talis without stopping.”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you in four days,” I said, nodding with satisfaction.

“See you then, lad,” he replied, a twinkle in his eye. It still sounded strange to me that people called me lad. I knew I looked young, but I didn’t feel young.

I returned to the inn and asked Loman. “Do I have more nobles coming?”

“I think a few more, but only tomorrow.”

I thought about going to my room to relax, but then I got an idea. “Do you know where I can rent a big warehouse for two or three days?”

He thought momentarily and said, “Go past the docks to the west, and you will reach the warehouses. Ask around there; I’m sure you can find something.”

In the warehouse area, I found a warehouse available for rent for three days. I removed everything except food from my Storage and organized things. The vast space of the warehouse echoed with the sounds of my movements, the occasional clink of metal, or the soft thud of the fabric against the wood. During the last month, I sold about fifty percent of my inventory. I had empty boxes and crates, and the shelves were half empty. I sold about sixty percent when I added everything I sold on the road and in towns.

I sold almost all my fabric, yarn, knitting, and sewing supplies, ninety percent of the metal cookware, most of the toys, all the towels, a sizeable chunk of the linen and blankets, and about twenty percent of the glassware.

I refilled the empty boxes and crates by category, inventoried all the cloth products I had left except clothes, and collected all the glassware on twelve shelving units instead of nineteen.

The only products that didn’t sell well were the clothes and the office supplies, which I didn’t offer. I tried to think about how to sell the clothes and had an idea. In the clothes shops where I sold my fabric, I saw they had something similar to hangers. They looked like an F made of wood with an additional bottom horizontal line extending to both sides. I’ve decided to buy some clothes hangers and then hang the clothes. Displaying them individually and not in baskets might help me sell them better.

It was already dark outside, so I headed back to the inn. After I passed the dock area, I walked through an alley to get to the main road and suddenly felt an intense pain in my shoulder, and my back slammed against the wall. The pain was so intense that my mind blanked for a few moments. I was in shock. When my mind cleared, I looked and saw a crossbow bolt sticking out of my shoulder and a group of people approaching me. They slowly surrounded me, and I saw nine people, three with crossbows, and one of them was the pawnshop owner I didn’t like.

He spoke first. “We saw you run around the city selling. Nobody sells in my city without paying a toll. Hand over half of your gold, and you’ll live and get to leave with the rest of it.”

I got terrified for a moment, but then my adrenaline kicked in, and my mind cleared. With my strength and magical abilities, I had no reason to be afraid. I split my mind and, with one side, grabbed my blood so I wouldn’t bleed out, and with the other, cast a mana shield on myself, straightened, and lifted my left hand. Unfortunately, I couldn’t use my staff because I couldn’t move my right arm.

I looked at him and said, “Leave, and you might live.”

They all laughed at me, and the leader said, “Your guard dog is not here, and we outnumber you. For your audacity, you owe me all of your gold now.” He turned to the crossbowmen and said, “Shoot him; we’ll take his inventory.”

The three of them shot me, and the bolts bounced off my shield, but the shield also shattered. There was an intense backlash in my mind from the shield breaking, but I kept my wits. Once again, I cast a shield on myself, aimed my hand at the leader, and fired a mana dart. I wasn’t sure if I was shaking too much or if I needed to train for accuracy, but my aim was way off. My aim was for center mass, but he grabbed his crotch and started screaming.

Oops!

I winced and felt a sympathetic twinge of pain as his scream pierced the air, high-pitched and agonized. The sound was gut-wrenching, enough to make anyone’s stomach turn. The rest of the robbers froze, their faces paling as they stared at him in shock. One of them dropped his weapon, his hands trembling uncontrollably. Another took a step back, his eyes wide with horror, unable to tear his gaze away from their writhing leader. The severity of the injury was evident in the leader’s contorted expression and the way he collapsed to the ground, clutching himself and curling into a fetal position, his screams echoing through the surrounding area.

Two of the crossbowmen shot me again. My shield held but was on its last leg. I cast it again and hit one crossbowman. This time, I aimed higher, just in case, and my aim was “better”; I shot him in the neck. He grabbed it and made choking sounds.

Oops again?

Still better than the crotch. I noticed I wasn’t scared anymore, not even a little bit. It felt like I was the predator, and they were the prey. For the first time, I understood the OP concept I read in the forums. I was OP compared to them. It boosted my confidence even higher.

Three of them turned around and ran away, but the other four that were still standing took out knives and attacked me. I reacted on instinct and Krav Maga training. One of them tried to stab me, so I grabbed his arm and, with all my strength, threw him sideways. He flew across the alley, hit the wall hard, fell, and no longer moved. Two of his friends stabbed me simultaneously, and the knives bounced off my shield. I grabbed one of them by the neck and slammed his head into his friend’s head. Both of them fell to the ground, unconscious. The last one turned tail and ran away.

I walked out of the alley, took a deep breath, and shouted at the top of my lungs, “Guards! Guards!”

I waited for a moment, straining my ears, and heard running footsteps approaching rapidly. It took a few moments, and then two guards appeared, their expressions shifting from alertness to concern as they saw me.

One looked at the bolt embedded in my shoulder and asked, “Do you need a healer? What happened?” His eyes widened slightly at the sight.

“I’m a healer; I don’t need one. But I need help removing the bolt; I can’t do it one-handed,” I replied, gritting my teeth against the pain.

The other guard, a younger man with a stern face, asked, “What happened?”

“I’m a healer and a merchant and sold many things in the city. I was accosted by nine robbers who demanded I hand over half my gold as a toll. They shot me, and I defended myself. Four ran away, and the rest are in that alley,” I explained, nodding toward the shadowy alleyway.

The first guard’s eyes widened in surprise. “You defeated nine robbers by yourself?”

“I was well trained before starting as a traveling merchant and have some basic spells for protection,” I said, trying to maintain a calm demeanor despite the throbbing in my shoulder.

They looked at me with astonishment, and one of them asked, “You’re a mage too?”

“No. I was taught two protection spells.”

“Without being a mage? How?” the younger guard asked, clearly intrigued.

“A mage taught me. Can you please help me remove the bolt? It hurts,” I said, my voice strained.

The first guard approached me, examining the bolt closely. “I’ll need to push it out. It will hurt,” he warned, meeting my eyes with a serious expression.

In the meantime, the other guard went into the alley to check on the robbers. As he moved away, I could hear his footsteps echoing.

With determination, I readied myself, stored my shirt and jacket, and produced a stick I had for fire to bite on. I positioned it between my teeth and said, “Do it.”

The guard nodded and placed a firm hand on my shoulder to steady me. With a swift, practiced motion, he pushed the bolt through. A white-hot flare of pain shot through me, and I bit down hard on the stick, my vision swimming momentarily.

Oww, oww, oww. The pain was like nothing I felt in my life. It hurt!

When the bolt was out, I cast two Healing Touch on myself until the wound closed, cast Clean and Purify, took out clean clothes, and dressed.

The other guard called his partner, and I joined them in the alley. Those five I fought were still in the alley. The one I accidentally shot in the crotch was lying on his side, bleeding and whimpering quietly. All the others were unconscious. The guards looked around, picked up some bolts, examined them, and checked the hands of the people on the ground.

One of them said, “Criminal underground. Please describe to me what happened exactly.”

I walked them through the events as they happened, and one guard asked, “So this one was their leader?”

“Yes.”

“Can you stop his bleeding so he won’t bleed out before we have a chance to question him?”

I approached the ringleader and diagnosed him. His crotch was a mess. I decided I would not heal it, only stop the bleeding. I felt it was better to prevent the procreation of criminal elements. After I healed him, I examined the rest. The one I accidentally shot in the neck was dead; I cut and cauterized his airways with the mana dart when I hit him. The two I banged heads were alive but had a severe concussion, and the one I threw at the wall was dead with a broken neck and spine. The attack left me shaken up, especially after killing two people, although not as much as the first time I took a man’s life.

I spent another three hours with the guards while they called for help to remove the criminals and called for a mage with a Truth spell. I told him the story again, and he confirmed it. He was also shocked that I was a Healer and a Merchant and had spells.

As I returned to the inn, Stretch immediately approached me, filling my mind with worry and a question. I patted him and said, “Don’t worry, buddy, I’m fine. I’ll tell you later what happened.”

Loman noticed Stretch’s reaction and approached me, asking, “What happened?”

After I explained what happened, he looked worried and said, “I’m sorry, but I must ask you to leave. The criminal underground in the city is larger than nine men. I can’t afford for them to attack the inn in retaliation. Maybe you can stay on the ship earlier?”

After thinking about it, I said, “I get where you’re coming from, and I’m not mad. I will find a solution.”

Extending my hand for a handshake, I thanked him for everything as he shook mine. “I had a great stay at your inn. No hard feelings.” He looked puzzled, but said nothing. I gave him two gold coins and said, “This is for all the help with the nobles selling jewelry.”

“Thank you, lad, and I’m sorry again.”

Since there was nothing in my room, we simply left. I walked back to my rented warehouse and set up blankets for Stretch, a mattress, and a sleeping bag for myself. It was warm enough in the warehouse, so we had dinner and slept. The warehouse, though sparsely furnished, felt safe and quiet. Stretch curled up beside me, his steady breathing soothing my frayed nerves.

The following morning, I cast a shield on myself and told Stretch I’d return in a few hours. He wanted to go with me, and I felt a powerful surge of protectiveness from him. I tried to cast the mana shield on him, but nothing happened.

I tried to convince him to stay, but he wasn’t having it. We returned to the city, and I was hyper-aware of my surroundings. On a couple of occasions, I felt people watching us, but nothing happened. I found a shop selling furniture and bought a feather mattress. I was berating myself for not doing it on Earth; the quality here wasn’t great—another oversight. I sighed deeply and continued on.

We toured the food stalls, and I stocked food for our ship voyage. I found one of the city wells—at least it had a pump and not a bucket—and took out two water tanks I emptied, filled them and cast Clean and Purify on the water.

We left the city to the east, past the tanners’ area. While walking past it, I thought about checking again with the tanner but decided against it. It was his choice to pass the chance I gave him.

After about a kilometer, we stopped, and I started a fire. I cooked until I filled all my takeaway containers and had ready food in all my personal cooking pots and pans. I even made two pans of lasagna. The savory aroma of cooked meat and herbs filled the air, mingling with the earthy scent of the forest. We stayed out all night, and it was dawn already. I was still not tired, so I used one tank to fill all my empty water bottles and rearranged the coolers to see how much meat I had left. After organizing everything, I had three coolers of meat, two coolers of fish, and cooked food for two months for both of us, not including the cooked food I bought.

Additionally, I had an excessive quantity of alcohol that I neither used nor offered for sale. That gave me an idea, and I returned to the inn.

When Loman saw me, he looked worried for a minute, but I told him, “Don’t worry, I’m not here to ask for a room again. I forgot to show you something interesting to buy.”

I took out three crates of bourbon, took out one bottle, and said, “This one is a gift. Open it to taste the product.”

He tasted it, and his eyes widened. “What is that? It’s amazing.”

“A drink produced in my homeland. It will cost you five silver a bottle, and as a gesture of appreciation, I won’t offer it to any other inn.”

I don’t think he ever agreed so fast to anything.

After that, we returned to the warehouse, slept for a few hours, and went out again to refill the emptied water tank.

The next day, I talked with Stretch, “Listen, buddy. On the ship, there is no convenient bush or backyard to pee or poop. So, you will have to do it in a container.” I took out a big plastic bowl and showed him. “After you do your thing, I’ll throw it overboard and clean the bowl. It’s not a big deal if you have an accident, but tell me so I can clean it. But please try to do it in the bowl.”

He didn’t look pleased about the idea, but agreed.

I really love my dog.

I did a last check of everything in my Storage and a final warehouse sweep, and we left for the ship. The air was crisp, and the sky clear as we made our way to the docks, ready for the next leg of our journey.