Chapter 17

Berstolia

The way to Berstolia, the capital of Torgalia, was a long and uneventful one for Tyroth and Ragnir, several days passing by before they even left the great forest, and they were still not even halfway to their location.

Most of the time was filled by Ragnir sharing stories of his many adventures, which Tyroth listened to with great interest, hoping to learn as much of the world as he could through Ragnir's experiences, but the warm days and the rocking of the carriage, not to mention the inactivity, made hard for the dragon not to doze off from time to time.

But as they made camp for the third night, Tyroth decided that it was time to confront the dwarf about the inconsistencies with his story.

"Hey, Ragnir, I've been meaning to ask you something." Tyroth asked, having just lit the campfire.

"Sure thing."

"This is something that I've been thinking about for quite a while. But how did you find us?"

"Didn't I tell you?" Ragnir said, scratching his bearded chin. "I saw the smoke in the distance, and headed toward it. Pretty straight forward."

"Except for the fact that you were already close by. Something that you had no reason to be." Tyroth stated factually. "I've studied the maps you gave us, and this road is the only one that connects Mutopia to the nearby cities, with the only fork on it still days away."

"What are you getting at?"

"When you arrived, we had only been in this world for a couple of days, less than half of which were in the village. To be able to see the smoke from the village, you would have had to have been only a day away.

While that in of itself isn't very strange, it is when you take the distance to everything else into account that things doesn't add up. You told me that you knew that the village was abandoned for the last year, so what reason would you have to even head in its direction? There is nothing past it unless you travel by ship, and there hasn't been any ships in sight for the last weeks we've been there."

Ragnir sat silent, clearly deep in thought after hearing Tyroth's arguments.

"You must have been travelling towards the village for almost a week before we even arrived in this world. Why did you come to us, Ragnir? What are you hiding?"

The dwarf sat silent still, looking into the fire for a while. Then, he suddenly broke into a wide grin.

"Ha! You're a sharp one, ain't you!" he chuckled.

"We had enemies back in our world that could be very cunning, we had to be on our watch."

"Good rule of thumb. But, yeah, you're right, I was heading to Sturmcoast, or Mutopia as you now call it, before you lot even arrived in our world." Ragnir took out a metal flask and took a quick drink from it before continuing. "Tell me, do you believe in visions of the future?"

"To an extent. I think I've had at least one vision in the past." Tyroth said, remembering the almost vision like nightmare he had had when his family had been kidnapped by the Foot. The dragon shuddered at the memory.

"Oh? Did it come true?"

"No, but not because of my interference, or at least I don't think so. We might have been worse off if it had come true, but that's a story for another time."

"Fair enough." Ragnir said with a slight shrug. "Anyway, I wasn't much of a believer of visions in the past, but I've changed my mind since then. You see, there was this wizard that were part of my old party, and she had focused on Divination magic, which had granted her the ability to occasionally gain visions of the future.

Well, roughly a week before you got here, she contacted Samalor and me, telling us of a vision she had received. She told us that she witnessed visitors of unknown origin arriving in Sturmcoast, visitors that could bring great change to the kingdom."

"Good or bad?"

"She couldn't tell, not for the lack of trying. But in my experience, change is always a double-edged sword. It can be either, or both. Whatever the case, I volunteered to investigate, so I left so that I'd arrive around the same time as these visitors, and there I found you guys."

"And you being a merchant, was that just a ruse?"

"Not at all. I needed something to do after we retired as adventurers, so I took up that profession. Not that I needed the money, I'm actually pretty well off after all those years as an adventurer. It's just to keep the boredom at bay."

"Is that all that you've withheld from us, Ragnir?"

"I swear by my ancestors, I have not told you any other lies. But you do understand that I needed to be cautious. We had no way of knowing your intentions beforehand. But after staying with you all for these last days, I'm certain that you are what you claim to be; people just wanting to live their lives."

"And that's what we're trying to do."

"And all the more power to you for that, my friend. Though, I must admit, I was wondering if any of you would figure out the hole in my story."

"I've known something was wrong for a while, but I wanted to be at a safe distance from my people before confronting you."

"In case I was more dangerous than I looked?"

"Yes, and so that I wouldn't risk hurting anyone, or ruining the village, if I had to go all out."

With that, the issue that had plagued Tyroth's mind was settled, but the dragon's last sentence left Ragnir wondering just how strong the dragon actually was.

Several days later, the duo finally reached the capital.

It was pretty much what Tyroth had expected. A large medieval city of European design, large areas of farmland surrounding it, and tall stone walls with towers circling the core of the city. On the other side of the walls, rooftops of some of the taller buildings inside could be sighted, as well as the might castle that stood in the middle of the city. The size was almost staggering, as the entire village of Mutopia, together with all its surrounding farmland, could easily fit within the city walls, and there would still be plenty of space over. The population of Berstolia had to be in the thousands, possibly even close to ten thousand, if not more.

As they approached the gates, Tyroth noticed just how large the walls actually were, reaching a height of eight metres, with the towers continuing to almost twice the height, while they all had a thickness of five metres, and the gates were composed of three portcullises with thick wooden doors at each side of the wall.

As soon as they reached the gates, they were stopped by one of nearly a dozen guardsmen, asking so see their papers, which Ragnir provided, well, his own at least. Since Tyroth wasn't of that nation, or even that world, he had no proper papers, and just like Ragnir had said before they left Mutopia, the guards wouldn't let him in without them.

The guardsman motioned for the duo to follow him to the sides, while three more guardsmen followed as well, most likely as a precaution as Tyroth was an unknown as well as a 'half-dragon' in their eyes, one with wings and a large sword.

Ragnir did most of the talking, while Tyroth stood to the side, occasionally answering a question or two from the guardsmen, but for the most part, the dragon was left alone, giving him time to take in his surroundings, much as he had done when he was ten years old and his family had moved from Sweden to America. Back then, there was a lot of paperwork that they needed to fill out, and he felt like it took ages, so he entertained himself by looking at other travellers, thinking of where they might be going and where they came from.

Now, he was far more attentive, examining everything and everyone that he could without loosing track of the conversation between Ragnir and the guardsmen.

There were plenty of people coming and going, mostly humans but several other races too, such as Halflings, Gnomes, Dwarves, Elves and more, and as far as he could see, they all looked at him at one point or other.

A mother leaving the city ushers her children to hurry, not letting her scared eyes leave Tyroth for quite some time, while the children looked at him in awe and wonder.

A somewhat grizzled man with a scar across one eye arrived at the gates, and upon seeing Tyroth, the man smiled and gave a nod at the dragon.

Another man was leaving the city, when he spotted Tyroth, the man's eyes going wide and he held up a pendant that was around his neck, most likely a form of holy symbol.

And so many more, all the while, the remaining guardsmen keep throwing glances at the dragon, which was to be expected by a city's protectors, especially since Tyroth was carrying a very large sword. Taking a moment to examine the guardsmen, Tyroth saw that they wore similar equipment to the soldiers that had accompanied Velnak; full metal cuirass, helmets, gauntlets and boots with ringmail and blue tunics, each carrying a sword in their belts, shields on their backs, and halberds in their hands, and what guardsmen that could he could catch glimpses of on top of the walls seemed to have crossbows as well.

"And done." Ragnir says, gaining all of Tyroth's attention, only for the dragon to get a set of papers almost shoved in his hands. "That's your new permit, or, well, your application for it, but it will do for now. We'll see some officials about it before you leave, but right now, we got other things to do."

Following the dwarf as he continued through the gates, Tyroth did not fail to notice that most of the guardsmen still followed him with their eyes. This world was a strange middle-ground between Earth, where people would most likely react to his appearance with fear and anger, and Skyrim, where they mostly looked at him curiously, but as long as they didn't come at him with pitchforks and torches, he wouldn't mind them being suspicious about him, it was only natural.

Once inside the gates, Tyroth was greeted by the sight of a bustling city.

The buildings were mostly wood and stone, with some being nearly only wood. People of all kinds were walking around, doing business, going somewhere, meeting friends, everything one would think normal to a medieval city of this size.

Market stalls, both permanent and temporary ones made on top of carriages, littered the sides of the larger roads, the merchants selling all kinds of wares, ranging from tools, weapons and armour, to spices, food and clothes, and so much more.

As Tyroth and Ragnir made their way towards the castle, people gave the small group a wide berth, everyone at the very least throwing a glance at the dragon and at the most outright staring at him. But Tyroth tried to not care, hoping that they would start to relax a bit if he just didn't gave them any more reasons to fear him. Until then, they could stare as much as they wanted.

However, after a short walk, it was Tyroth's turn to stare, in a mix of shock, disbelief and disgust.

Standing on a wooden platform off to the side were several people, most of which were dressed in rags and had iron manacles around their wrists and ankles, as well as iron collars linked together with chains, all while they were guarded by a pair of armed men in dark clothes, and fat woman in expensive looking clothes bellowed about how well trained the shackled people were.

'Slaves?! They're selling slaves?!' were Tyroth's first thoughts as he recovered from the shock, and his rage stared boiling violently. But before he could do anything, he felt Ragnir pulling on his arm, rather strongly too.

"Not here." the dwarf whispered and hurried on, pulling the dragon along.

Tyroth wasn't sure what was actually going on, but he did like the dwarf told him, after all, he didn't want to cause a scene, especially not one that could get people to see him as a threat. Despite that, however, he just couldn't shake what he had seen. Slavery wasn't really a rare thing back in the time of medieval Earth, but that was almost a thousand years ago. To see it in person like that, hurt Tyroth to the core, as he was a firm believer of justice, and slavery had no trace of justice.

A part of him wanted nothing more than to attack the people selling the slaves, and free those poor souls from their imprisonment, but he couldn't. He had to force himself to remember that the laws in this world were most likely very different from what they were used to.

Some twenty minutes later, Tyroth and Ragnir arrive at the castle, an impressive building that easily towers over all other structures in the city. One could probably see a great distance from any of its five tall towers or the even taller, central keep.

Approaching the large doors, a couple of guardsmen instantly barred their way with their halberds, but once they saw Ragnir, they withdrew their weapons and apologised, allowing both the dwarf and the dragon to enter the castle, thought they still kept a close eye on Tyroth.

'They clearly know him from before.' Tyroth thought to himself. 'Further evidence that he truly knows the king.'

Being led through the castle's various areas, Tyroth, having never been in a proper castle before, was amazed with how big it actually was, even though they only walked through a select few parts of it. All of the Mutopians could fit inside and probably be so spread out that they would never see another.

Despite that, there were few areas where the two were alone for long. Servants of all kinds were running errands, and guardsmen were on patrol, though a lot of them greeted or nodded at Ragnir when they passed him.

A short while later, they arrived at a door, which Ragnir gave a few quick knocks before entering, not even waiting for a confirmation from inside.

It was a large, square room without windows, fairly well decorated with tapestries, banners, paintings and more. A large table with several chairs stood in the middle, and a queen size bed on one side of the room, as well as an open fire place on the opposite side, just as there was a desk flanked by a pair of bookshelves on the opposite side of the door.

Standing by the desk was an elder man, bald with a long, white beard and dressed in grey robes, holding several books and scrolls against his chest while he talked with another man, this one sitting at the desk.

Both of them turned their heads to the door when they heard the knocking, and the sitting man smiled when he saw who it was.

"Ah, it would seem that I have visitors." he said and turned to the old man. "We'll continue this later."

"Of course, your highness." the old man say as he bows and leaves, while also giving a small bow to Ragnir as he pass by. "Master Ragnir."

As soon as the door closed behind them, the man rose to his feet, letting Tyroth get a good look at him. He was of average height and build, with blue eyes, short brown hair and beard, and wearing loose fitting clothes in blue silk with gold embroidery, a red cape and a gold crown with a diamond in the centre.

The smile quickly broadened into more of a grin, and Ragnir was already grinning as he hurried over and the two met in a big hug.

"Welcome back, Ragnir! It's been far too quiet without you here."

"Glad to be back, Sammy." Ragnir said as they broke the hug.

"And this must be the… half-dragon I've heard about." Samalor said as his eyes landed on Tyroth.

"That's right." said Ragnir, clearing his throat. "King Samalor, allow me to introduce Tyroth, Jarl of Mutopia."

"Jarl you say? Well then, it seems that we have quite a lot to discuss then."

"That we have, and I have gotten even more questions since arriving." said Tyroth.

How did this get so long?! I had my notes, composed of seven key points that I wanted to add, and I only managed two!?
Some times, things just runs amuck I guess.
Here's hoping the remaining five points don't give the same result.

Regarding the 'vision' Tyroth mentioned that he had had, it was the nightmare about his sister being forced into telling the Foot about Mutopia in my story 'A Sister's Plight'.