Malthus savored the walk within his proud city, savored the time among his people. He kept a brave face on, a broad smile that looked down from a tall and powerful frame. If a stranger were to see his olive skin turn a faint rose at the cheek when a young woman in the simple roughspun cloth of custom approached with a swaddled infant, they would have thought he was the babe's proud young father. Such was the easy dignity of an Ongeku king. On this occasion, a trio of women, triplets of raven hair in garments of brown, black, and green, approached. Their slender faces were happy ones, pleased to see their king. At each of their ample breasts, newborns suckled in quiet contentment. "My King," they said together, "will you bless our young?" They looked up at him and added a haunting, "pleeease." In voices that had no doubt been honed to wheedle the favor of an indulgent father in their youth.

Malthus inclined his head and brought his thumb to his mouth and bit the flesh away, tearing open the thumb so that it bled. Though the pain shot through him, it was insufficient to so much as give him pause. He simply laid his royal thumb on the center of each forehead. His touch was slow and gentle and he whispered down to them, "In the name of the gods of yesterday and tomorrow, I bless you and your futures, may you keep a good house, and keep it safe, as the divines will it."

The smile had fled his face briefly for the solemn blessing, the infants of course, knew nothing of what had just happened, the breasts of their mothers were of far greater interest. But the deep brown eyes of the triplets were wet with tears of gratitude, and they bowed their heads with great humility.

Their dismissal from his presence came when he took a step forward and resumed his stroll. "Do you know, Pinar, how things got to this point?" The king asked seriously as they moved out of the gate when they finally reached the open area beyond the city. Malthus didn't look behind him, he savored the front, the land of the great living woods rose and fell, the land itself rising and falling like the chest of a man who had run a great distance and quite tired himself out.

"Sire…" Pinar scratched the back of his head, "We walked here…" He said as he looked at the back of his king's head.

Malthus hesitated, then arched back and laughed to the sky. "No my boy, no. That isn't what I mean."

He turned off the dirt road that was now under his feet and headed toward the forest. He walked in silence in front of the escorts. His feet sank slightly as he went from hard packed earth to grass, the heavy weight of his body sank him slightly farther than that of Pinar or Pinar's companion.

When they were close to the breathing lands and the ground became a carpet of thick blue and green mosses, Malthus began again. "I mean the story of how our land in the south fell into the hands of the Newcomers?"

Pinar nodded sharply. "Of course Sire. They stole it!" Pinar's grip on his weapon tightened enough that the smooth leather glove made an audible rubbing noise against the weapon in his grip.

At his side, Pinar's companion nodded along with gritted teeth.

Malthus shook his head in denial, then slowly hesitated in that gesture until he stopped. "No, well, maybe. The truth is, that when they say they bought it, they were telling the truth. When my grandfather fought against Ponei in the civil war, that area of the south was hit… hard. Very hard. If you were to travel there now, you'd never know that any Ongeku had ever lived there at all. But around that time the Newcomers were looking to establish some trade settlements. Some of our crops were of interest to them after all." He paused to let himself get used to the rhythm of the rising and falling of the soft, mossy ground and relaxed against the familiar feel of the wind that hit his back and carried him up a low rise of trees.

The king resumed with a snort. "Since Ponei had been crowned king, and the land technically belonged to the crown, my grandfather devastated it utterly, well, he did what even I must admit is a very rational thing. He sold it to the Newcomers who established small forts."

"That much land…?" Pinar asked, aghast.

"No, that was later, the war was vicious and brutal, and a lot of refugees fled the fighting, but none of the neighboring nations would take them, so guess where they went?" Malthus let the question hang until Pinar spoke up.

"South?" The young soldier guessed hesitantly.

"Yes. South, the Newcomers had some powerful escorts, and desperate people did what desperate people do, they fled to uncertainty over death. They got lucky. The Newcomers let them stay and established a neutral refuge for both sides, and turned them into a pool of manpower. My grandfather sold the newcomers some of the land he captured to protect his followers who had fled. While Ponei did the same, if the war had gone on, they might have sold off their whole country and fought to the death alone in the palace kitchens!" Malthus let out a bitter laugh at the grim joke before he settled his back against a large mossy boulder and let the rising and falling of the land beneath his feet, sooth his nerves.

Malthus folded his arms in front of himself and watched the two young men's faces for their responses. Their consternation was evident. "Sure, they may have taken advantage of both sides to get a province out of a sliver, but neither side 'had' to sell. And now… now as a result? We've got death worshippers at the border and I don't know if I can contain them if they get ambitious."

"Sir, they're already ambitious." Pinar remarked, bracing himself against a tree that rocked with the rising and falling ground. "Their priests are disrupting everything, a few merchants have already converted just to get better deals doing business with them. Those merchants leave and come back here, carrying the new religion with them. They're not waging war with swords, they're attacking our very way of life!" Pinar's braced hand formed a fist suddenly and punched the slender pale tree, the wood snapped where his heavy fist impacted, and he fell with a heavy thud to the soft mossy ground.

He scrambled back to his feet as fast as he could, sputtering blue moss and blushing in embarrassment that his King and comrade were kind enough not to comment upon. "Sorry… sire. I didn't mean to lose my temper." He said as he braced himself against another tree.

Malthus rubbed his chin and went so deep into thought that he almost lost his place against the rock with a particularly hard rocking motion of the ground he stood on. "No, not at all Pinar. You make a very good point… and that is something I can address. Thank you soldiers, for escorting me. Now come, let's go back to the palace, I've got a religion to outlaw."

xxxxxxx

The excitement was palpable, hands came out impulsively and clasped together. "My friends… my friends… if this is a dream, I don't want to wake up." Changati's broad face lit up like the sun, his elven face was bracketed by his happily twitching ears, "I can barely believe it…"

Mina's eyes brimmed with tears, "I can hardly believe it, really." She felt the warmth of Raolius's hands in her right and Mendoki's in her left. "I know it's bad ethics in Yggdrasil to talk about the real world… but as we're in the real world, can I ask a little about who you 'really' are?"

Changati dropped his grip and bowed in an exaggerated fashion, "I'm from Britain, rich kid. Twenty-three, and I'm single." He winked at Mina, who rolled her eyes.

"My eyes are up here." She pointed up away from her breasts and crossed her arms.

"Yes, but if they were on your breasts we'd be making eye contact." Changati rubbed the back of his head and laughed at the lame joke.

Mina huffed, "Idiot. I'm from America, twenty-five, single… and don't even think it, Changati, you're the opposite of my type."

He made an exaggeratedly crestfallen face, dropping his arms down and slumping as if to mock his own disappointment.

Mendoki giggled a bit and her green hair bounced lightly, "I'm from Ireland, twenty-five, a widow, and don't even think about it Changati, or I'll sing a tune that'll lower your stamina so much you won't even be able to jerk off!" Her green eyes sparkled with delectable menace when he straightened up, stuck out his arms and wildly shook both them and his head.

"No no no no no no no, I'll be good!" He declared rapidly until the laughter stopped.

Raolius finished the mild chuckle they gave to him, "I'm from Russia, single, twenty years old. Kind of strange none of us are from Japan, I admit, I thought most of you would be Japanese. Yggdrasil wasn't big elsewhere. Wait… state your reason in two words on three. One…. two… three!"

"Dream Builds!" They said in unison.

"Figures." Raolius, shrugged and scratched the tiefling horns on his head. "My 'secret agent' build wouldn't have fit in most of the newer sci-fi games. For the life of me I never understood the appeal, I always loved those spy movies and whatnot."

Mendok bobbed her head in rapid nodding motions of agreement. "Same, but since I'm a bard, well where can I be in sci-fi? Not much use there, in Yggdrasil, I could sing my enemies to death, or something like it anyway. Besides, I never liked those games where everybody was all about becoming the next dictator or corporate overlord. No thanks, Yggdrasil was the only game that let me be truly 'free' to explore."

"So… we're in agreement I think." Changati brought his hand up to stroke his chin, "I guess I shouldn't be surprised that none of us were too happy with the overlords of home… but…" His face became very grave and swept theirs one by one, his blue eyes held theirs one by one. "Does anyone have family to get home to? If anyone does, I say we make 'that' the focus. Me, I have nobody, parents are dead, one on the job and one from sickness, no siblings… honestly I don't want to go back."

Heads turned one to another as they sought answers in concerned faces, Mina spat into the dirt in disgust. "No, no one. My mother and father are still alive, but I hate them. Rich folks of the worst kind. I never want to go back. If I did, it would be parties and preparing to take over a company I'd rather burn to the ground."

"OK, so nobody, none of us want to go back home. We still don't know how we compare to others of this place, for all we know, one hundred might be weak, so let's see where we stand." Changati proposed, and inclined his head towards the city entrance.

"Yes!" Mina said and thrust her finger toward the open gate with such vigorous energy that it caused her breasts to bounce. "Once more into the breach, dear friends, or close up the hole with our English dead!"

Palms met faces from her companions and she blushed, sheepishly lowering her arm. "What, I'm a theater brat, of course I know my Shakespeare."

"Timing, dingbat." Changati said and turned to wave frantically at some concerned looks other passers by were giving them, his face red with embarrassment.

They cast some second and third glances at the little group, and moved on. He turned back to Mina who looked mildly embarrassed herself as she shuffled her feet and looked at the ground while he scolded her. "You can't go throwing lines about dead people from a country nobody here knows of. They might take it as threatening. Cut the lines off sooner. What the hell am I going to do with you?"

She smirked up at him, "Not the stuff you want to, pervert boy."

"Whatever, whatever, I suggest that you all wait here a bit, let me go check the place out, just have a seat at the slope off to one side." Raolius looked around, while many were coming and going, there were also plenty who seemed to have made a point of idling outside the gate, some were drinking, others talking. A few had set up very small, humble stalls that were really just barrels with crude signs on them with pictures of what he thought might be fruits. Copper coins were passed to them, and people walked away munching on fruits that looked similar to the ones of home. Bright red and with audible crunches that made his mouth salivate just to watch and listen to the way they ate.

Changati nodded slowly, "That's a good idea. We have currency from Yggdrassil, it looks like they take copper here at least. Go on, check the place out." He turned to Mendoki, "Why don't you earn us some money… no, not that way! I mean, you're a bard, sing for a bit, it wouldn't be a bad idea to have some local currency too."

"Right!" Mendoki needed no prompting and when her friends moved out of the way, she began to sing an old ballad from her home world, her crystal voice silenced everybody speaking who could hear her, their ears turned towards her and then their faces followed. Without thought or hesitation, people abandoned their journey to or from the gate and came to stand or sit in front of her.

While she did so, Raolius walked away from the main entrance and pressed himself up to the side of the wall, and started to hum the theme to an old spy movie while his heart pounded in excitement. [Ephemeral] He cast the spell, and walked through the wall. [Carelessness] He cast the eight tier spell and started walking around. The walls he'd left behind were high and clearly meant for defense, they weren't for show. Inside the city, he found the main street had cobbled stone, while the side streets and alleyways were unpaved. Similarly, the ground beneath the buildings was unpaved, built on top of grass and dirt. Too there seemed to be no true division of districts. The blacksmith pounded next to what seemed to be a home. The houses were made of wood with straw thatching laid over top, and seemed to be mostly square shaped at the base. The wood, to his surprise, was painted over, but the color was always the same. The same amber shade over and over. 'This merits investigation.' He thought and withdrew a notepad and quickly wrote down his question.

The smiths mostly seemed to be working iron and steel, but he saw a number of other metals that he didn't recognize. The street was wide enough for ten to walk abreast shoulder to shoulder but there seemed to be no division of lanes. People walked the streets beside carts, and carts only seemed to decide which side to be on based on which side of the street their destination was. The people were clad in roughspun cloth that looked crude, and not a few wore just straight up furs. 'The concept of 'finery' has never touched this place, that much I am sure of.' He thought, though they did have some jewelry, it was crude silver earrings and a few necklaces without ornate designs.

'Middle age technology at a glance, but magic clearly works, so they're probably more advanced with that.' He pondered as he moved deeper within the city. Nobody seemed to be paying any attention to him despite his excellent dress and equipment, and that revealed another point. 'So, nobody around here has greater magic than I, or at least greater detection skills, that's a plus. But the most important question is 'How powerful are we when we have to actually fight?' He scratched his head as he tried to find a way to answer the question without likely getting killed.

As he walked, deftly avoiding the people who didn't pay any mind to his presence, he sketched out a crude map of the area, and he continued doing this until he heard the sound of shouting, not angry, but rather, cheers. He knew what it was immediately and felt a savage smile come over his face.

He went straight toward the sound, and found one very familiar scene. A large number of people were standing around a circle while an eight foot tall behemoth of an elf stood in the center. At his feet, a six and a half foot tall human lay bleeding and unconscious. The enormous elf held aloft his bloody, bare fist, and an arrogant smile was painted on his face.

"Does no one else want the blood of Pryde!" The elf laughed, "Is it that nobody will gamble when my victory is inevitable?! Come on! Bring two, or three, or five! Pryde Kingson cannot be beaten!"

Raolius grimaced, 'I'm not much for gambling, but I'll just bet that last name is more than just a 'last name'. Well, you wanted a test, I can't think of a better one.' Raolius took off his fancy clothing and threw it into his dimensional storage, then drew out an old level one set of crude clothing and put it on. He cancelled his spell while two elven women dragged the unconscious unfortunate away, not even bothering to heft him, he was dragged face down through the mud of defeat, battered by the cheering crowd.

"I'll do it!" Raolius shouted as he made his way to the center. "I'll fight you!" He pushed his way through at first, but as his words penetrated the ears of those around him, people made a small path, and silence fell, including from the behemoth of an elf.

The elf looked cockily down at Raolius, extended his big, meaty hand that was easily large enough to palm a human head. His deep, booming voice was half mocking and half hungry. "Come on then." He said, and curled his fingers on.

The crowd called it. "Fight!" They shouted together, and the massive elf moved faster than something his size had any right to. His head sized fist slammed into Raolius's chest with force like the lightning that would shatter ancient trees, and the sound of the blow rang out like the thunder which followed.

'So… this is the strength of this world? Is he… normal, or not?' Raolius wondered, as the next blow sailed with the smoothness and swiftness of an arrow from a bow, directly towards his face.