The Gate Traveler

We arrived at the dock late afternoon, and I asked about the captain. One sailor went on board to fetch him. The captain approached me, his expression a mix of curiosity and amusement. “You’re early. I told you I don’t need to test your dog.”

“I finished all my business in the city, so there was no point in delaying. Is it a problem that I’m early?” I asked, trying to read his expression.

“No, it’s not a problem at all,” he replied, his face softening into a welcoming smile. “Welcome aboard.” He paused, then added, “I have a proposition for you.”

“Go on,” I said, intrigued.

“If you check all my crew and heal them as needed, you don’t have to pay for the passage.”

I thought for a moment and then nodded. “No problem, but not today. Today, I want to see my cabin and relax. Let’s do it tomorrow.”

“Of course, not today; we are busy with final preparations. Tomorrow is also not good; the first day of sailing is always hectic. How about in two days?”

“That works for me,” I agreed.

He called one sailor over and asked him to show us around. The sailor led us up the ramp on board the ship. The vessel was extra-long, wide, and mostly square except for the front, which narrowed to the ship’s bow with a raised platform. Three wooden deckhouses adorned the main deck. Pointing at them, the sailor explained, “The one in the front is the cabins. All the guest cabins, as well as the captain’s cabin, can be found there. The second one is the galley, scullery, and mess hall. The third one is crew quarters. You can sit on the main deck wherever you want, but sailors might ask you to move if you’re in the way.”

We navigated around the front deckhouse, where the sailor pointed at an open hatch with a trapdoor. “The cargo hold is below deck, and there are five hatches to access it; they are very obvious. When in port, don’t sit on or near them.”

He led us to the back of the ship, pointing at a row of enormous barrels. “Water barrels,” he said, then pointed at a big pot with a handle resembling a giant saucepan. “Use only that to fill water from the barrels.”

Returning to the first deckhouse, he showed us a long corridor with six doors on each side and a door at the end of the corridor. Pointing to the latter, he said, “Those are the captain’s quarters; please don’t go there uninvited. If you need something, ask one of the crew. All the other doors are guest cabins and look the same. Since you’re the first one here, you can choose whichever you like.”

Not wanting to hear people going back and forth in front of my cabin, I pointed to the end of the hall. “One of the cabins at the end. It doesn’t matter which.”

He led us to the one on the right and showed us inside. There was a bunk that he lifted. “You can store your things here, but don’t leave valuables in the room.” He opened a small door I hadn’t noticed before, revealing a chair with a hole in the middle and a bucket below it. “Chamber pot. Somebody will empty it twice a day, morning and evening.”

I handed him a copper and thanked him. He looked surprised to receive the money but didn’t object and left.

The room, though small, was charming. It had a bunk with storage, a table with two chairs, and a two-seater couch in front of a window. I arranged Stretch’s blankets and my bunk, and we had a late lunch.

While eating, I heard shouts outside and went to investigate. Two women, one older, argued with a crewman, insisting that he placed their luggage in their room, not below deck. The older lady didn’t care that there wasn’t enough space in the room, and no, she wouldn’t pay for another room for luggage. Upon seeing Stretch, she stopped mid-sentence and began shrieking about “filthy animals” on the ship.

“Excuse me, but what’s the problem?” I asked, stepping forward.

“This… this beast!” she screeched, pointing at Stretch. “Nobody told me there would be filthy animals on board!”

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my calm. “Don’t worry, madam; he won’t get near you.”

“Good, because if he does, I’ll—”

“For his own good,” I added under my breath. Then, I turned and walked back to my cabin, closing the door behind me, resolute to ignore everyone and everything.

I spent the next three days sitting in quiet corners on deck, enjoying the passing view, except for a few hours when I checked and treated the crew. There were no significant issues, so it was quick. The sailing speed wasn’t great, but it was faster than on foot or a bicycle. After three days, I got bored without moving, so I took out my guitar and learned new songs. Wherever I sat, the space near me became a popular hang-out area for the crew. Stretch occasionally howl-sang with my playing, and the crew thought he was a hoot. Within a day, he was their mascot, food scraps disposal unit, and petting therapy.

One evening, I was playing a tune when one of the crew members approached me. “What song is that?”

“It’s called ‘Sailing Away.’ It’s a song from my homeland,” I replied. “Would you like to learn it?”

He nodded eagerly. “Yes, please!”

I smiled and taught him the lyrics and melody. Since the song was originally in English, I took the time to translate it into Shimoorian first:

“Waiting at the water’s edge,
Watching all the ships as they are heading for the harbor wall…”

Soon, more crew members gathered around, listening and joining in. Some asked me to teach them, and I heard them singing or humming it for the rest of the voyage.

I added twelve new songs to my repertoire and finished three books. I reached the last book in a series I was reading, but the series didn’t conclude.

Should I return to Earth to get the following books?

I laughed at the absurdity of the thought and told myself not to be an idiot.

Deciding to be social, I met the other passengers, except the shrieking ladies. All the other passengers were merchants. We talked about trade and travel, and I sold much of my glassware to them. The craftsmanship amazed them, and they gushed about it. I also offered them some of my office supplies, primarily notebooks and pens, which were a hit for personal use. I bought two belts with pouches, a knife sheath without the knife, beautifully carved bowls, and a comfortable pair of boots. While trading all the supplies, I immensely enjoyed the laid-back atmosphere and fun haggling.

At some point during the voyage, the wind changed, and the crew switched to oars. The captain informed us the voyage would take longer because of that, to the ladies’ displeasure. The rest didn’t mind so much.

One afternoon, I sat with a group of merchants to discuss our travels. “So, where are you headed after Mormet?” one of them asked me.

“Not sure yet,” I replied. “I might stay with the ship for a while longer. What about you?”

“Probably back to the city. Got some new goods to trade,” he said, patting the crates beside him.

We continued sharing stories, laughing, and trading goods. After eighteen days, we reached Mormet, and the captain approached me.

“You’re the only one continuing with us, so you can stay on the ship or take a room in an inn. I won’t charge you extra for staying on board.”

“I’ll take a room in an inn,” I decided.

“Come find me in six days, and I’ll tell you when we leave,” he said.

“See you then.”

I found a lovely inn, sold the innkeeper’s wife the rest of my linen, found the baths, and toured the city for two days. After two days, I began discreetly trading, choosing specific shops based on my Storage. I still had an extensive stock of glassware and clothes and looked for places to sell them. The glassware was easy, but the clothes were more problematic. But I persisted and sold over three baskets. Again, I toured the blacksmiths and the leather area, buying more weapons and arrows. I realized that after the attack, I had forgotten my promise to the bowyers to return for more arrows. I hoped they wouldn’t be stuck with excess inventory because of me.

After six days, I paid a visit to the captain, and he informed me we would depart in five days. Since it hadn’t snowed in the last couple of days, I checked out of the inn, and we left the city. The city was on both sides of the river; one side in a valley between two mountains, the other in open plains. I headed to investigate the other side of the mountains.

After two hours, we reached the other side, but there were just more mountains with small valleys between them. I needed to move, so I ran to the next valley, pushing myself to my speed limit.

My speed was impressive!

As a kid and an adult, I was always fast, but my current speed was incomparable to the past. My speed created some serious wind resistance; it was a total rush, and Stretch had a blast, too. We ran for hours, enjoying the valleys between the mountains rather than the high mountain passes.

In the afternoon, we reached a big open valley with some streams and a herd of mukar/bison.

Yay!

I needed to replenish the meat supply.

After lunch, I went hunting. Too excited, I missed the eye and hit a cheekbone. Surprised, I momentarily froze, and the mukar started running away. Not wanting it to escape injured, I chased it. Once I brought it down, opened its belly, and hung it, I reminded myself, “Slow is smooth, and smooth is fast.”

I saturated it with mana, working on an idea I had. Instead of flooding it with mana and then controlling and directing it, I created a mesh of mana where I wanted the cuts. It looked like a detailed diagram of how to butcher a cow. Adding a thin layer of mana between the skin and the meat, I “pushed” with my intention. The whole thing collapsed inward. When I lifted the pelt and examined the cuts, they were better than before. The sun had moved a little, maybe half an hour. I checked my mana: 6820/7200.

Woo Hoo! It was faster and used less mana.

A red light started blinking in front of my eyes. When I tapped it:

 

You have perfected a technique to harvest bovine game. +1 to Perception. Advance the technique and formalize a spell to get more benefits.

 

The notification was strange. I didn’t expect a level, and the hint about my next step was nice, but still strange. The increase in Perception seemed out of left field. I struggled to understand the connection between this specific attribute and my potential loot spell. Scratching my head, I looked at it again and added it to the pile of things I didn’t understand.

I checked my profile, and the ability Harvest Game still had [In Progress] beside it.

Oh well, you can’t have everything handed to you on a platter.

After cleaning everything and burying the bones, it was getting dark. I lit a fire and set up camp.

The next day, after breakfast, I moved some things and emptied and cleaned another cooler. I had fourteen coolers to fill. I didn’t think I would fill them all, but I had three days and learned to use much less mana. For the next two days, I hunted and harvested nine mukar and filled eight coolers. I didn’t want more of this specific meat, so I saturated it with mana.

The next day, it started snowing again, so I headed back. It took longer since I didn’t want to run too fast with the snow falling, but we still made it back late at night. I took a room near the docks for a night and boarded the ship the following afternoon.

It snowed nonstop, so I spent most of my time in the cabin, finished the meat saturation, and switched to restoring weapons. When my mana reached 250/7200, I stopped to regenerate. Now I had a problem: to read, I needed light, and the light ball needed mana. Since I was trying to regenerate mana, it was counterproductive.

Understanding the bored Travelers who spent time in the Archive, I opened it and checked my comment about buying the Mend spell. There was a whole discussion about which was better: Mend or Restore. The Restore detractors didn’t like it because it required two ability points and was a channeled spell, i.e., more expensive mana-wise, unlike the Mend detractors, who disapproved of it because it can only mend breakage or tears, not deterioration or wear. The discussion was normal; nobody sounded like a frat boy, and there was no name-calling. It even surprised me a bit.

I decided to post my lasagna recipe. Remembering the recipe I read, in which I recognized nothing but the salt, I tried to suggest alternatives.

 

Tr. JR John’s Amazing Campfire Lasagna That Can Wake Even the Dead The amounts depend on the size of the pan Equipment: 4 metal baking pans: 1 high-edge metal baking pan for the lasagna 1 metal baking pan slightly larger to fit over the main pan and cover it completely 2 larger metal baking pans 2 pots Grater Frying pan Metal wire Tongs Gloves Ingredients: 4-6 tomatoes – or any other vegetable from other worlds that is red, squishy, and has a sweet, acidic taste; or if you’re a smart Traveler that bought tomato sauce, use that 2-3 onions – or another root vegetable that has layers, can be fried and is tasty A medium bowl of minced meat 10-20 lasagna noodles – or any other dough you can cook in water Hard cheese – grated Garlic – if you don’t know what it is, I have no idea how to help you Salt Sugar Assorted vegetables that can be grated Herb seasoning Preparation: Grate the tomatoes. Put the tomatoes in a pot over the fire, let them boil, and move to the side of the campfire where the heat is lower. Add sugar and taste. There should be no acidity. Add salt, garlic, and herbal seasoning to taste. Cook until the amount reduces to 2/3. Set aside. Boil water in a pot and add the pasta. Cook until soft. Heat the oil in a frying pan and fry the onions until golden. Add the meat and continue frying until brown. Add the grated vegetables, mix well, and cook while stirring until the vegetables are ready. Add salt and seasoning to taste. Layer the pan first with pasta, cover with meat, pour the tomato sauce on top, and sprinkle with grated cheese. Repeat 2-3 times depending on the pan. Put the lasagna pan in a larger pan, cover with the slightly larger pan, and cover with the other larger pan. Wrap the wire around the whole thing to keep it together. Move the coals and burning wood aside until you create a cradle. Put the lasagna in the middle and cover it with coals on top and all around. Wait until you smell something delicious. Move the coals aside and drag the pan out using tongs. Put on gloves, unwrap the wire, and open the pans. Enjoy

 

Writing in the Archive was an interesting experience. There was no keyboard; you had to “intend” to write, and an empty line appeared. Then, you had to “think” the text you wanted to write. When I posted comments in the past, they were short and quick. Now, writing a recipe, I discovered it had similarities to “speech to text”—a few times, I had to delete and re-think the correct text into the Archive.

The entire process was an interesting mental exercise. I thought about the pompous ass who wrote the article about awakened beasts and couldn’t understand why, with the difficulty of writing long text in the Archive, he padded the whole thing with so much flowery fluff.

Scrolling to the post where I said I got the Luck stat, I saw 162 people calling me a liar. Based on the mature discussion I saw earlier, I concluded that calling people liars in those circumstances was a game, not an indication of the Travelers’ intellect level. I felt relieved. There was also a recent addition; somebody wrote that they got the Bard Class and received the Creativity trait. Already, 21 people called them a liar. It’s a trait I would love to receive.

I reached the article “Opportunities and Dangers in Worlds Undergoing Integration,” which I had started to read before, and decided to finish it. I had already read the stages and the dangers, so I had to read only the benefits. After completing the article, I sat thinking. It explained how it was so easy to “farm” ability points on Earth and why I didn't gain any here, but it didn’t explain why it was so easy. That bugged me; I always needed to understand things. Finally, I added this question to the pile of stuff I didn’t understand. That pile was multiplying.

This time, I continued scrolling through the Archive but was smarter about it. I didn’t stop to read everything. I searched only for articles and checked the titles to see if I wanted to read them. This method worked wonders, and for once, I didn’t want to murder the Traveler population, AND I found some cool articles.

I read an interesting article explaining the difference between the “planets, planes of existence, and parallel universes” mentioned in the Gate Traveler Class description. It was fascinating, and I definitely wanted to visit the Dragon plane/realm, but much later, when I would be stronger. Otherwise, I would never reach a dragon. Something would eat me on the way.

I also found an article explaining the classifications of low-mana, medium-mana, etc., and the difference between worlds in each classification. After reading this article, I decided my next world would be a medium-mana world in the 30-50 mana level range. I hoped there was a Gate in Shimoor, maybe even the Gate I was heading to. Initially, I thought the direction I felt and was heading was to someone writing a book and needing time to finish it.

But maybe I was heading to a Gate that leads to a world with higher mana that would have more information?

The only thing that made little sense with this theory was the feeling of “Take your time.”

Maybe they are writing the book in another world?

I told myself to stop tormenting myself with speculations and continued looking for cool articles.

I read a few articles with theories about why mana and tech couldn’t exist in the same world after integration. The theories varied, and some of them sounded utterly wild. One author postulated mana disrupted the electromagnetic fields necessary for technology to function, rendering everything from simple circuits to complex machinery useless. Another theory posited that mana acted like a corrosive force on metallic components, causing rapid degradation and failure of technological devices. A particularly far-fetched idea claimed that mana had a sentient aspect that actively rejected and dismantled technology to maintain the world’s magical purity. One nut job forcefully asserted that mana was the soul of the cosmic beings, and technology was a false soul disrupting the correct flow of the cosmos. It was also apparent that these were merely theories by the authors with no substantial proof. They often referenced anecdotal evidence or drew parallels from obscure historical texts, but none of the articles provided concrete experiments or data to back up their claims.

The only thing all those articles agreed on was that Magitech was the solution. Theoretically, I could imagine what Magitech was, but I looked for articles with more information. It took me a long time to find each article. God, I had to search through so much crap in the Archive, but I didn’t give up until I found some articles, and they were fascinating. I understood why the dungeon cores mentioned in the “Opportunities and Dangers” article were so valuable. Dungeon cores served as Magitech’s fuel or operating system.

I basically did some Traveler education, and it was interesting and enlightening.

Finally, the snow stopped, and I spent the last three days on the deck enjoying the view. Shimoor was breathtakingly beautiful, a place where 90% of the landscape was untouched, with pristine nature. It was exactly what I needed when I arrived, grieving and broken. The serene surroundings had given me the peace and solitude necessary to heal. When I first set foot in Shimoor, my heart was heavy with loss, and my spirit felt shattered. The vast expanses of wilderness and the quiet whispers of the forests offered a balm to my wounded soul, helping me find my balance again.

But as much as I appreciated the tranquil beauty of Shimoor, I could feel myself growing restless. The stillness that once brought comfort now felt like a gentle nudge urging me to move forward. I needed this place, this beauty, this nature to heal, but I was no longer the same person who had arrived here. Now, I felt much stronger in mind and body, and it wasn’t just because of my stats. The time spent in Shimoor had fortified me in ways that numbers could never quantify.

The raw grief that once clouded my thoughts had lifted, replaced by a renewed sense of purpose. My body, too, felt rejuvenated; the physical activities and the pure air have done wonders for my stamina and health. I realized it was time to move on to something more diverse, challenging, and engaging. Shimoor had served its purpose; it had been my sanctuary, my place of recovery. Now, I felt ready to face the world again, eager to embrace fresh adventures and challenges with a heart that was whole and a spirit that was no longer weighed down by sorrow.

We reached Talis, and I bade all the crew and the captain goodbye. Stretch received so much love at departure, like a family member leaving. Then we headed into the city.