Part 1

Because I was wandering around in the woods on my parents' property, I didn't notice anything had changed in my surroundings until I tripped over a dead body. That was traumatizing enough without adding the fact that the corpse wasn't human. It was definitely humanoid, I noticed after I'd finished throwing up. It was not, as I'd originally thought, a child. I was pretty sure it was fully grown, but it was much shorter than an adult human and significantly more orange. It had pointed ears and disproportionately long arms and wore ragged trousers and something that looked like leather armor. The armor had proven ineffectual against whatever or whoever had run this creature through. There was a single puncture wound through it's chest, presumably through it's heart, though I couldn't be sure how anatomically similar this thing was to a human, which appeared to be the cause of death. A look at my nearest surroundings revealed a rusty, broken sword on the ground next to it. None of its possessions seemed to be missing or even rifled through.

It occurred to me that whatever or whoever had killed this thing might still be lurking about. I looked around, paying attention to my surroundings for the first time since I'd stumbled on the corpse. There was a muffled commotion ahead of me to my right in the direction my parents' house was. I couldn't tell what it was from the sounds nor could I make out anything through the trees. I debated whether I should get closer to see what was going on or try to get away without being noticed and find help. In the end, the need for more information won out over my desire not to get stabbed. I'd probably die soon from something else anyway.

So I made my way carefully through the trees and undergrowth, looking for the source of the noise. I located it when I found a ravine several yards away. My parents' house was no where to be seen. Someone, or rather several someones, were fighting at the bottom of the crevice. Having grown up in the twenty-first century, I'd never seen an actual sword fight where people were trying to kill one another outside of cinema. The real thing was much more frightening. I was so terrified that I froze in place, unable to move even to look away. It was partly a good thing because paralysis prevented me from vomiting again. I was pretty sure that the person down there who was busy slaughtering everyone else would notice the woman cowering in the brush if she puked all over the people he was killing. He might even kill me too.

That thought snapped me out of my stupor enough to try and make my escape. Unfortunately, the guy who was doing all the killing had apparently finished up down below and come to investigate the interloper in his afternoon's work. I hadn't gone ten feet before he materialized in front of me. I screamed a little and jumped, but managed not to pee my pants. I counted it as a win. His mouth was moving, but I was too far into a panic attack to actually hear him. I could feel my breath speeding up, and tried to slow it down before the black spots I was seeing completely clouded my vision. It wasn't working, so I just sat down before I passed out and put my head between my knees. I don't think the guy expected this reaction. He was still talking, and I was still not listening. He nudged me in the side with his foot, hard. I held up my pointer finger, still focusing on breathing slowly.

It turned out, he either wasn't familiar with the common gesture for 'wait a second' or the fact that I'd given him that instead of an answer had pissed him off. He yanked me to my feet with a surprising amount of strength for someone his size and proceeded to get all up in my face. I still couldn't quite hear him, but trying to focus on him was slowing my breathing down and causing my panic attack to subside. He shook me a little and my hearing popped back on line.

"Answer my question, you stupid cow," was the first thing I heard.

"That was uncalled for," was my reply because I apparently had a death wish, "and I didn't hear the question in the first place because you scared the bejeezus out of me. If you'd like to repeat it, I'd be happy to answer if I can."

He let go of me, and I remained standing to my surprise and relief.

"Why are you following me?" he demanded.

"I wasn't following you. I heard a noise and came to investigate. It's not my fault you were the one making it. Also, why would I follow you? I've never seen you before in my life, and you're clearly dangerous. If I was going to stalk someone, I'd pick someone benign and helpless, preferably with as few friends and relatives as possible. That way they'd have no one to sic on me for being a creeper except the police, and most people won't go to the police unless things get really scary and even then maybe not. People tend to think they're over reacting to things rather than assuming the danger is legitimate."

"Shut up."

I shut up. Fear made me ramble. Who knew?

"If you aren't following me, then what are you doing out here?"

I knew my answer was probably going to get me killed, "I got lost."

He pulled his sword and set the blade lightly on my collarbone. I slapped it away and backed up a few steps. We were both shocked at my reaction, I think, and I blanched when I realized what I'd done and that I was talking again.

"Dude!" I was saying, "Put that away. You're gonna take someone's eye out with that thing. And I am lost. I stepped on some dead thing over there that is definitely not human unless it's like, really good prosthetics, and my parent's house isn't where it's supposed to be. This is either a hallucination, a really convincing prank, or something weird and supernatural went down that I want no part in. And the whole 'killing people with a sword' thing? What even is that? Who does that anymore? I mean, other than crazy terrorists in India or whatever."

"Did you hit your head?" The question caught me off guard. He looked perplexed and a little irritated, but not as much like he wanted to take my head off.

"No." I reached up to feel at my scalp and face for a bump or tender spot. Nothing.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, and before you ask, any blow hard enough to scramble my brains would leave a mark. There's nothing wrong with my head. I won't rule out the possibility that someone has drugged me yet, though. Not that I can think of a person I know who would want to drug me or has access to memory suppressing drugs, but you never know. This whole experience has been surreal and trippy, and I am ready for it to be over, thank you. So if you could direct me to the nearest telephone, computer, or police station, I'd be very grateful."

"What are you talking about? And what's a police or a telephone or a computer?"

I rubbed my forehead, "Are you serious? Are you being serious right now? Because if this is a prank, it has passed the point of being comedic and crossed into the realm of total douche-baggery."

"Douche-baggery?"

"Yes, douche-baggery. Dickishness. It's mean and inconsiderate. Seriously, however much they're paying you to perpetuate this nonsense, it's not worth it."

"If you aren't going to make any sense, then stop talking."

"Fine. And while I'm being quiet, maybe you can tell me what's going on."

"I was in the middle of a bounty-hunt and noticed you following me."

"I was not following you. And bounty-hunting? I thought bounty-hunting was like, catching people who skipped bail or hunting down varmints, not killing people."

"They're goblins, and they've been attacking traders and outlying farms for weeks."

"And you're what? Vigilante justice? Why isn't the government taking care of this crap? Or are you a mercenary the government is hiring to do it? What about the national guard or the sheriff's department? And why are you killing those things instead of arresting them? Wait, did you just say goblins?"

"Stop asking questions."

"But I need to know."

"Okay, here is how this is going to go," he was looking pretty pissed off, "I am taking you back to town where we will find your parents or whoever is in charge of you, and they are going to pay me a lot of money for not killing you or leaving you here to die."

"I'm an adult. I'm in charge of myself."

"Then you pay me the money."

"That's extortion."

"It's business."

"Well, then it's bad business. You're basically holding a gun, sorry, a knife to my head and telling me to fork it over. That's extortion and also illegal."

"Do you really think I care?"

"Considering the fact that you apparently kill people for money, no, but I might as well be clear about the fact that I am aware of what you're doing."

He started walking, and I followed him. I wasn't sure what, to him, had signaled the end of our conversation, but I had finally regained control of my wayward mouth, and I kept it shut. Actually, I was fine with silence. I wasn't one for small talk in general, and I suspected that prolonged conversation between us would result in my speedy death. I tried, unsuccessfully to tell what he was thinking from his face, but it was fixed in a grim expression which told me nothing.

Town, it turned out was a few miles away. I was not used to exercise of any kind. Wandering around in the outdoors didn't count since I moved as slowly as I wanted. Thankfully, I had worn hiking boots instead of the rubber boots I'd intended to wear today. Nothing like blisters to make hiking even more of a treat. Also, this guy was not slowing down for anything. For such a short guy, he sure kept up a quick pace. He was less than a head taller than me, and I was barely over five feet tall. I was struggling to keep up the entire way, but I didn't dare to ask him to slow down. All my earlier vociferousness had leaked out with the copious amounts of sweat I was producing.

The city had walls around it. Honest to goodness walls. They were made of stone, and there were men patrolling them. Men in armor. This was a lot of work to put into a prank. Maybe too much. It might not be a prank after all. Still, it could be set up to happen near some larping thing. Mr. Bounty-hunter hailed the guards, and they let us through. I looked around the streets. The buildings were old-fashioned, and everyone else was dressed just like my angry escort, except with more color. There were carts and horses and dogs running through the street. It looked like a renaissance fair except there were fewer drunk people and a lot more poor people. And of course, there wasn't an ATM or port-a-potty anywhere. It smelled like people just used the street like a port-a-potty. This was why no one actually wanted to live in medieval times. Hygiene sucked.

We arrived at the town square, and my companion turned to me. One look at my face must have told him that this wasn't familiar to me.

"You don't live here," he stated.

"No, I've never seen this place before. Where are we?"

"Nyth."

"Nyth?"

"In Thesk."

"Thesk?"

"Are you kidding?" he muttered.

"Are you? You just said we were in a city called Nyth in Thesk, and you're asking if I'm the one kidding?"

"Well, where are you from?"

"Minnesota."

"Where's Minnesota?"

"The United States."

"What?"

"Of America."

"Never heard of it."

"How is that even possible?" I was flabbergasted at this point.

"Where is that on Faerun?"

"It's on planet Earth. What's Faerun? Where's Faerun?"

"This is Faerun. It's a continent on Toril."

"Toril is a planet? I'm on a different planet? Is this a joke?"

"No!"

"And you've never heard of Earth?"

"No."

Well, shit.

"Please tell me you have toilets here," I pleaded, "And toilet paper. I can live without the internet or cell phones or showers or you know, proper medical care, but I cannot live without toilet paper. Chamber pots are not going to happen, and I am not going in the woods or the streets or whatever other unsanitary place people went in the dark ages." All the truly important things in life were flooding my mind, apparently.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I'm talking about indoor plumbing. How do you keep human waste from filling the streets and houses?"

He grabbed my arm and dragged me away down another street. We didn't stop until we had entered an inn, and I resisted when he tried to bring me upstairs. Irritated, he turned and glared at me.

"Bro, I am not going up there with you. I don't know anything about you except that you kill people for money and call it bounty-hunting, and that's not exactly a shining endorsement of your character."

"If I was going to kill you or rape you, I'd have done it when I found you in the woods where no one would hear you scream."

"Hey, I don't know. Maybe you get off on the possibility of getting caught. I'm not going up there. That would just be stupid."

"We need to talk somewhere private."

"We can talk, but I'm not going to follow a strange man into his room. Why can't we talk out there?" I pointed to the common room. He grumbled but complied. We sat at the corner table and a young woman came to our table to see if we wanted food. I doubted they took American money, so I shook my head. My companion ordered something. I had stopped paying attention and started looking around at the room, so I had no idea what he was getting. The room was surprisingly big. The ceiling was vaulted and had various decorations perched in the rafters. There were warm reds and oranges in the upholstered chairs and the wallpaper. I wasn't sure what to call the look they were going for, but it looked put together. There were round tables of various sizes scattered around the room and rectangular ones at the edges, but not enough of them to make it look like a restaurant. A few comfy-looking chairs sat in front of the unlit fireplace.

"So," the guy said, "start talking."

"That's very non-specific. Also, will you please tell me your name?"

"Artemis Entreri."

"And how would you like me to address you?"

"You may call me either Artemis or Entreri."

"Okay, Artemis then. My name is Anne. What do you want to know?"

"Where did you come from, and how did you get here?"

"I told you, I'm from Minnesota, and I don't know how I got here. I was walking around in the woods by my parents' house, and I tripped over that dead thing. I don't know when I stopped being there and started being here. The flora and fauna are similar, and except for the ravines and stuff, it looks pretty much the same."

"It was a goblin."

"Seriously?"

"You've never seen a goblin before?"

"No, of course not."

"But you've heard of them?"

"In stories, like fictional goblins, but not real ones."

"Not ever? Goblins are everywhere."

"Not on Earth. They don't exist there. They never have, at least not that we've found evidence of."

"What about elves, dwarves, orcs?"

"No, only humans. There's a medical condition called dwarfism. Genetically they're still human though."

"Only humans."

"Yeah."

"And magic?"

"Nope. I'm pretty sure there used to be, like thousands of years ago, but not anymore. I mean, there are people who call themselves magicians, but it's all smoke and mirrors and sleight of hand. I suppose you could call ESP magic or like mediums and voodoo, but that shit is creepy and also usually fake. Common opinion is that any magic people may have once done was really just unexplained scientific phenomena. Most of the things people claimed they did with magic, we can do with science and technology now, and the rest are just considered exaggerations or superstition or grasping for an explanation for something they couldn't explain, like blaming things on the gods."

"What? You don't have gods there either?"

"There are a lot of different religions people follow, each with different gods, and there are people who don't believe gods exist. I believe there's only one god."

"What is science?"

"Science is trying to explain the world and how it works through observation and experimentation."

"That tells me nothing."

"Well, it's a broad question. What do you want to know about? Physics, chemistry, biology, meteorology, psychology, sociology, geology?"

"Is that all science?"

"Yes, and it's not even all the types of science there are."

"Explain some of it."

"Physics is the study of physical systems and energy and how they behave and interact. Biology is the study of life forms. Meteorology is the study of weather. Psychology is the study of the human mind and how it works."

"You said dwarves on your planet are genetically human. What does that mean?"

"So, all living things are made of tiny parts called cells, and inside each cell is something called Chromosomes. Chromosome pairs have all of the information your body uses to tell how to make itself in the form of genes. They hold information in the form of DNA which determines everything from the color of your hair and eyes to whether or not you are vulnerable to certain sicknesses. There are special cells for reproduction which have half as many chromosomes. When people have sex, the cells combine, the chromosomes pair up and together determine how the new person will look. A person's genetic make-up is half from their mother and half from their father. Each animal and plant has a different number of chromosome pairs in their cells. Humans have 23 pairs. Someone with dwarfism has human genes. They're human, just like their parents."

"How in the world do you know that?"

"Smarter people than me have found ways to study DNA and taught the rest of us about it."

"What happens if different animals mate?"

"Sometimes they produce viable offspring, like a donkey and a horse produce a mule, but mules are sterile; they can't reproduce. The more the number of chromosome pairs they have differs and the more different their genetic make-up, the more unlikely it is for different species be able to cross-breed."

"Different races cross-breed here."

"Like humans and dwarves?"

"Sure, humans, elves, dwarves, orcs, ogres, and they can all have children which can reproduce as well."

"Maybe it's like cross-breeding dogs. You know, they're all canis familiaris, but different subspecies, so you end up with things like labradoodles. Maybe all the different races here are just different subspecies of homo sapiens or humans are a subspecies of something else. Or it could be like breeding lions and tigers. Panthera Leo and Panthera Tigris. Not the same species, but the same genus, and their female offspring can reproduce I think. Sometimes anyway. The guys are sterile, though. Are any of the hybrid... peoples... sterile?"

"I get the cross-breeding dogs thing, but none of the rest of that meant anything to me, and don't try to explain. You sound like a crazy person, and it's giving me a headache."

"Hey, it was a valid question. And I would say I'm not crazy, but recent events or delusions or whatever is going on have made me seriously doubt my sanity, so until further notice, I'm not going to try and refute that."

"Tell me about the place where you live."

"The city, the state, or the country?"

"I don't care. All three."

"Do you have something I can draw on? This would be easier with visual aides."

"You know what? Never mind. We can do this later."

His food and drink arrived, and I sat back and looked around while he ate. More people had arrived, presumably for a noontime meal, and I watched them interact curiously. The nearest group was five men, all armed and armored. I guessed they may also have been bounty-hunting. Although I couldn't distinguish their words, I could tell from their body language that they were well-acquainted and competitive with one another. It sounded like they were bragging and engaging in typical male posturing and machismo. Everything was a giant pissing contest for men. Their table manners were atrocious.

"You should stop staring at them," Artemis said.

I jumped and turned back to him, "Sorry, it's hard to look away from the train wreck that is their table manners, and good grief, have they never heard of inside voices?"

"They're trying to impress people."

"By being loud and annoying and telling outrageous lies in an attempt to one-up each other? They sound like idiots and not even charming idiots. Some people can pull off stupidity with a certain amount of grace. They sound like the kind of idiots you want to punch in the face every time they open their mouths."

"I never said they were succeeding."

"Fair point. They certainly seem to think they are."

"If you stare at them, they'll think you think so too."

"Then thank you for stopping me."

"I didn't do it for you. I did it so they wouldn't come over here. They annoy me enough from a distance."

"I don't care why you did it. I'm just grateful that you did."

"Are you hungry?" he asked suddenly, "here, eat." he shoved the rest of his food toward me.

"I don't have any money to pay you back."

"I'm not going to eat it anyway."

I shrugged and started eating. No point in being too proud to take castoffs. I'd rather have food in my stomach.

"Your parents were wealthy," Artemis said. It wasn't a question.

"Not really. I have a lot of siblings, so all the money kind of went towards keeping us fed and clothed."

"But you clearly got an education."

"Well, yeah, public school."

"Public school?"

"Yeah, the government provides free education since, by law, all children must attend school of some sort."

"There's a law about that?" He looked skeptical.

"Yeah, they have certain things you have to learn to be considered properly educated, and whatever schooling you get has to fulfill the requirements. Some people pay to send their kids to private schools. Some people teach their kids at home. But the government can't require you to educate your kid and then make you pay for it, so they provide a free education for everyone which you can opt out of as long as you get them an alternative education that meets the standards."

"Why would the government require you to go to school?"

"So you can get a job and be a productive member of society."

"You have to be educated to get a job?"

"Yeah, how are you going to know what's in a contract or how to read the news and instructions and stuff if you can't read and write? Or keep track of your finances if you can't do math? How would society advance if no one knew anything? It'd be like herding cats, only belligerent, disease-ridden cats with no common understanding of the world in general."

"I think you're mixing metaphors."

"Well, I'm mixing something, that's for sure."

"So you can read, write, and cypher, and you know a lot of… stuff that may or may not apply to this world as well as your own. Do you have a trade?"

"No, I work in a factory, but I don't plan to make a career out of it. I plan to go to school again for engineering."

"What's a factory?"

"A place where one manufactures products for selling."

"What kind of products?"

"All kinds of products. It depends on what the company wants to manufacture. Maybe they make shoes or clothes, books, furniture, farming implements. If it can be sold, someone manufactures it, and if the industry is big enough, it's done at a factory. Even food is processed at a factory. Unless it's sold at like, a farmer's market. And of course, there are specialty items and hand-crafts and stuff that aren't mass-produced which aren't made by a manufacturer."

"How did you get the job?"

"I work for my uncle."

"Is it difficult work?"

"No, it's pretty easy. As long as you memorize the process, you can totally space out while you do it and just work on autopilot. As long as you do everything in the same order every time and pay just enough attention not to mess things up, you just cruise through."

"But you don't want to work there forever?"

"Ideally, I'd like to get married and have children, stay home and raise them. I plan to go to school for engineering as a back up plan. I just need to make some money and build a financial buffer so I can work part-time and go to school without getting an ulcer worrying about paying the bills."

We lapsed into silence again. He was considering me with a blank look on his face. I stared back and paid attention to his appearance for the first time. I'd noticed he was short earlier, but not much else. He was very handsome, with good bone structure and a square jaw. It looked like he either hadn't shaved or had a five-o-clock shadow to go with his goatee. Short black hair, it was parted on one side. His eyes were sharp and gray, and his skin tone was darker than mine, maybe middle-eastern, and had a grayish caste to it. I couldn't tell if it was a trick of the light or if he was actually gray. I almost asked, but decided to wait. Usually, such information came to light with a little patience and no questions required.

"For someone who talks a lot, you certainly have a gift for extended silence," he observed.

"I like silence, more time for thinking. And I only talk a lot when I have something to say."

"Most people who talk a lot can't stand silence."

"You think I'm lying."

He said nothing.

"I know many people who can't abide silence. The sister I live with is one of them. I'm not."

We didn't talk while I finished eating. I could tell he was waiting to see if I'd crack, and I retaliated by doing what I did best, tuning out. I looked around again, examining each occupied table.

I skimmed over the five guys burgers and fries, and settled on the next group. This one was obviously a couple and their children. They looked to be middle-class, but I had no real frame of reference for comparison. The mother was feeding her baby girl mashed up potatoes and overcooked carrots and trying to keep her twin sons from feeding the food they didn't want to their dog. The father was talking to the waitress about something. Their oldest, a girl of about six or seven was doing her best to help her mother in between forcing herself to eat the meal even though she clearly didn't like it. I silently applauded her fortitude. I certainly wouldn't have done as well at her age.

Two old men and their equally old wives sat together in the sunlight coming through the glassless window. I guessed they were here for food but not lodging. It was kind of sweet to see old people out on a date in the middle of the day even in this weird time period. I wondered if they were just good friends or if some of them were related.

A man in rough traveling clothes was eating a hasty meal at the bar. He appeared to be alternating between stuffing his face and harassing the wait-staff. I hoped that someone spit in his food. Something had him in a rush, but not in danger. He didn't look over his shoulder or around the room even once. I tried to make out a weapon, but either it was small and concealed, or he was a lefty. I watched his hands to see which. He was a lefty. Unusual. I tried to remember if Artemis was left or right-handed, but came up blank. I'd have to pay more attention in the future.

Across the room, two women and a man sat at one of the round tables. The man and one of the women were lightly armored and carried an assortment of weapons, but the other woman wore robes and had no visible armament. Closer inspection revealed that all three were actually elves. I guessed that the robed elf was a magic-user, and wondered if the color of her robes signified anything about the type of magic she did. Again, I nearly asked, but changed my mind. Answers came to those who waited, watched, and listened.