Auckland, New Zealand, July 2018

Well, fuck…

I'm going to die in the Land of Ice and Fire itself. I always knew that I was going to die as a result of doing something stupid, but I always thought it would be of electrocution due to one of my friends' stupid experiments. Not in some alternate reality with no way home.

You see, my friend Jamie Ross, or Doctor Jamie Ross, PhD as he likes to be known, was always something of a tinkerer. Forever fiddling with electronics since he was able to move under his own power. He made his pocket money as a kid fixing stuff for his parents and then expanded to being the handyman for the neighbourhood by the time he was 11. He devoured books on various bits of electronics, physics, and whatever else as soon as he could read and was always trying to 'better humanity and the world' or whatever.

I was one of the few kids at school who didn't mind hanging out with him. Most because I had a laundry list of problems that already made me an outcast. A list that basically consisted of being tall for my age, skinny, and red of hair, or to use the word hurled at me most often – "NERD!"

Still, Jamie was a decent enough conversationalist, when he wasn't peppering his sentences with scientific jargon, and relatively friendly. We spent most of our time together in his workshop (aka his parents garden shed) either testing his inventions or playing video games. Mostly testing though. On me.

Don't get me wrong, it was interesting to see what he came up with but it was also painful. It didn't take long to develop a high pain tolerance and an ad hoc medical kit for the various injuries I would inevitably end up with. Also the source of my fatalism as we got older as he developed weirder and weirder shit. Star Trek got him on trying to develop a warp drive and phasers but ended up with him burning down the shed (for the fourth time); he also tried lightsabres which led to the fifth burning down six months later.

He was bright enough to acquire a PhD by the time I was finishing a degree in chemistry and history. His degree was in quantum mechanics and engineering or something to that effect, as most've what he said sent over my heads. Regardless, his experiments had apparently led to the development of what he called a 'Dimensional Incursion/Recursion Facilitator, Mark 3.25'. It looked like a miniature Stargate is what and apparently did something similar except with different dimensions instead of different worlds.

And I was to be the first interdimensional traveller. What he wanted to do was find an alternate universe, send through a probe to check it was capable of supporting human life, and then send me through to check the place out. It was to be the solution to world hunger; overpopulation and the like as he would be able to find Earth's that were unpopulated and send people there to set up colonies and the like. My original thought was 'good luck. People are just going to get greedy as hell and use this for some bullshit,' or that it'd get taken off him by the government. Turns out I was wrong.

Using some government funding, Jamie managed to get it working and viable. He had his own interdimensional Stargate and was beginning to test it. Unfortunately he forgot to take one of quantum mechanics most basic tenants into consideration as I got ready to step through the portal and explore the first of many planned travels to prove the multiverse theory – Heisenberg's uncertainty principle.

As I stepped through the portal generated there was a ripple of some kind and I could hear the sounds of alarms blearing from the other side of the portal. Then yelling and the portal started to go transparent on my side of things and then the portal collapsed and there was the sound of an unholy snapping. I was blown backwards and hit a tree (as I'd appeared in a forest clearing) and fell unconscious.

At this point, I should probably introduce myself – my name is Fredrick Josiah Hawthorne, Freddie or Fred, to my friends and acquaintances. My name was proof that parents could be incredibly cruel the world over but I'd learned to live with it over the years.

South of Braavos, 290 AC

I waited around for an hour or two to see if the problem would be corrected and I'd get a portal home, but no such luck. It would appear that I was stuck in a forest on an unknown world with the possibility of human civilisation somewhere. All I needed was to find it and pray that they understood English, or French, Latin or basic German. I'd taken a number of language papers during my time at Uni and was part of the reason that Jamie was able to finish well before me (he still would've but taking a number of extra papers extended my time).

It was nearing nightfall by the time I was able to find a road. It thankfully looked well-travelled so that was a positive. The downside being that there was no one in sight to ask for directions or some kind of tavern or inn to beg for a place to stay in exchange for some kind of service. This was mostly because all I had on me was the clothes I was wearing (military surplus boots, fatigues, shirt and jacket) and a backpack containing some MRE's, sample taking equipment, a bottle of water and a book or two, a pistol on my hip, and some sunglasses. This was all premised on the fact that I'd be spending maybe a couple of hours here and not possibly the rest of my life.

Flipping a coin and heading right down the road, I got about a kilometre or two before I found a bush to sleep under. It wasn't pretty or comfortable, but it kept me out of sight so that was good enough. I kept moving the next morning after chowing down on an MRE. I was going to need to make them last or go hunting. I had a couple of clips for the pistol but it wasn't exactly a hunting weapon and I didn't have the skills for actual hunting. The first, and consequently only, time my father took me hunting I managed to accidentally shoot him in the ass with a .202 and proved to be near useless with a rifle. I turned out to be above adequate with pistols however and for that I was thankful.

Regardless, I trudged along, humming to myself and occasionally singing to keep myself entertained. It took two whole days before I came across any sign of civilisation and found some kind of way station that sat at a fork where two roads became one and the signs of civilisation could be seen in the distance. About a day's travel if I was any judge towards society in the distance, but at least this rest stop would beat sleeping in a bush. Provided I could negotiate a stay and actually spoke their language. Along with the fact that they were hopefully human or human looking.

Thank god they were human looking at least as I stepped inside. I must've been a curious sight to the proprietor, dressed the way I was. The man behind the bar was dressed in a curious mix of medieval or renaissance style and have me a mixed look.

"Parlez-vous cotte langue, mon ami?" Blank look. "Quid igitur est?" Another blank look. 'Well, fuck. That leaves, "Sprichst du Deutsch?"

This was just making the guy behind the guy behind the counter more and more confused. "Well fuck me. You wouldn't happen to understand me now would you?" That seemed to illicit a laugh at least.

"I would, yes," was his reply once he stopped.

"Thank fucking god, 'cause I don't speak anything else," I offered with a sigh of relief. At least I wouldn't be totally fucked. Hopefully.

"It certainly helps to know Westerosi, given how many of their kin we get trading in these parts," commented the man. "Why don't you pull up a seat?"

I did so, with great thanks, slumping into a seat in front of him, a content sigh escaping my lips again as I took a load off my feet. "So, what can I get you?" Asked the man as he continued to eye me up.

"Whatever this'll get me," I replied as I dug into my pocket, pulled out my wallet and dumped about three or so dollars' worth of shrapnel onto the counter. The man whistled appreciatively as he picked up the coin and began to examine it.

"I've never seen currency like this before," he observed. "Where's it from?"

I thought for half a second and decided to be as vague as possible and went with, "down south."

"Huh. Doesn't look like anything from Norvos or Pentos. And you don't look like you're from Myr. You from Tyrosh?" I shrugged noncommittally. Pentos sounded familiar and was tweaking my memory somewhat as it sounded something pop culture related. He sighed. "This'll get you a meal and a drink," he offered as he pushed a bunch of the copper coins back, "and a room for the night if you want one?"

"Love one thanks. Been trekking on foot for a long while and I could do with a proper bed. What's the city up north?"

"Braavos, my friend," he said like I was an idiot. "The greatest of the Free Cities of Essos!"

"Good to know," was all that escaped my mouth. Well, fuck a duck and name him buck. Apparently Jamie had gone and dumped me in the world of Game of Thrones. This was going to be fun and that was no mistake. The question was, where about in the time stream I was and if I could avoid the hell out of the goings on in the show.

Braavos, Fifth Moon 290 AC

I ate my meal and drank in near silence after that. The revelation of where I was hit me hard and knocked most've the conversation out of me. Though I was happy to answer my host's questions with as much vagueality as I could manage and he eventually took the hint and left me too it. After that I was taken to a room and shown where the facilities (read: toilet) was, but I apparently didn't have enough for a bath so there was that.

The next day I successful made it to the port city of Braavos with barely a penny to my name and no fucking idea what to do next. I had no money, very few items of worth and nought but the clothes on my back and the stuff in my pack. The only means I had of defence was a gun with limited ammunition and once that ran out, I would be screwed. Especially as I didn't know how to use a sword, or the means to acquire one even if I did.

After using the last of my shrapnel (and the excuse of being from Tyrosh) to take the short trip from the end of the trade road to the city itself, I found myself wondering the streets. It was a lively place and full of people rushing to and fro as they all went about their business. I barely stood out amongst the different dressed people that called this place home.

Must've made myself out to be an easy mark but giving off tourist-y vibes, or that's the assumption as I was suddenly accosted by a small band of youths and backed by them from the close quartered street into an even more close quartered alleyway created by the haphazard placement of five or so houses and shops.

"Entregue su moneda, viajero y no se le hará daño," declared the idiot I assumed to be the group's leader. He had pulled out a sword in the process and was holding it my throat once we were out of sight.

"Listen, mi amigo, I don't want any trouble, but I don't have any money," I offered as calmly as I could. Meanwhile I was tugging at the clip of my gun holster so that I could draw my pistol if I needed to.

"Then your bag will just have to do, mi amigo," spat the leader with the emphasis displaying the contempt he apparently held me in. Which was fair enough but that just wasn't going to do. I might just have to kill this guy. Hopefully I would be able to claim self-defence or something like that if I did…

"How about no?" Was my retort as I drew my pistol. It was a modified SAC-46, an air gun designed by the OSS to neutralize opponents securely at a distance without being detected at a distance. It made half the noise of a real gun, and had been modified by Jamie to have a bit more stopping power. The dude made a move and met with a small bang and a hole in his heart.

His friends looked a little stunned as their leader stumbled sideways into one of the walls and began to slump downwards. I turned to them with the pistol (now with two bullets remaining, another modification) and a grin. "All right, mi amigos. How about you leave your coin and we call it even, yeah?"

The bang had definitely been audible, but the sound of the crowds outside had masked it for the most part. Anyone hearing it could've easily mistaken it for a dropped metallic object but I wanted out of this alleyway just in case. The teens were happy to throw down some coin pouches and vacate the local. I quickly housed my pistol and threw it into my backpack along with the four bags of coin from the teens. I grabbed the bag of coin from the dead gentleman along with his coat (might as well try and partially fit in right?) and stepped out of the alleyway into the street, jacket over my arm. With some application of my newfound wealth I found my way to an inn where I paid for a few nights stay and some good food. Now to plan…

Notes

That was a bit easier than expected to write. Please leave a review and let me know what you think…

Given that my only representation of common people from Braavos is Syrio Forel and his actor Miltos Yerolemou, I thought Spanish would be an appropriate stand in for the Braavosi tongue. If there is an actual language for the Free City let me know and I will endeavour to use it...

Language notes:

Parlez-vous cotte langue, mon ami? – Do you speak this language, friend?

Quid igitur est? – What about this one?

Sprichst du Deutsch? – Do you speak German?

Entregue su moneda, viajero y no se le hará dañ! – Hand over your coin, traveller and you will not be harmed!