That first night was a bit awkward. Hestern and Lemet brought their cart to an enclosure with other carts and animals like the one pulling it. A large building with a wide opening into the enclosure sat there with various people walking in and out with bags and barrels.

  I climbed out and found myself lugging the same from the back of the cart into the place, a store house I think they were called. While I was not very strong, the bags were not nearly as heavy as the barrels so for a while I helped carry them inside and put onto piles where shown. Words were not needed since without that translator at the gate I could not understand or be understood by those around me. At least not in words. Gestures served us just fine.

  After what felt like an hour, Hestern gestured for me to follow them out of the enclosure and onto the street. She and Lemet led me to what seemed to be their home. I had to duck under the door but the ceilings were high enough that only my ears, if at full attention, would brush them. As long as I moved slow and not in my normal bouncy movements I wouldn’t hit my head.

  I mostly ended up sleeping not long after they brought me inside. I was still exhausted from my long trek through the woods. I felt more relaxed though, not the jerky sleep that had me bouncing up at any little noise. I only woke briefly for some food. A tender flaky meat that I did not recognize but reminded me of river creatures back home.

  I think the couple knew I needed my rest so did not bother me that first night besides feeding me, pointing out where I could find water, and what I understood to be the privy. I had been doing my business outside since this ordeal began so it was more of a pleasant change than it would have been to come from my home with all modern amenities when it came to hygiene to this.

  The next few days were a new learning experience, much like the trek had been. I was taken to another building, a butchery, given a real knife and given the job to gut fresh kills, along with pluck feathers, remove scales, and skin those with hide. I learned how to do this properly without relying on new skills, but I also started learning words. Every day between the household of Hestern and Lemet, who were a race called Lizardfolk I had learned, and the butchery. Each place added new words to my very primitive vocab. But it was getting easier as I practiced, saying the names of each animal I was helping prepare. Chicken. Fish. Rabbit. I even learned actions and by the end of the week felt like a small child saying short sentences.

  After the first two days I didn’t need to be led between where I was staying and where I had been put to work. I could wander the streets, as long as I stuck close to the main path I knew, on my own. I had yet to see another of my kind, just more lizardfolk, talloni, humans, those big horned folk I found out were called minotaurs, and a few others I didn’t have names for. There were several shops I passed on my way to and from work that I was gaining names for. One was a clothier and that kept reminding me that I was wearing increasingly filthy rags.

  The job paid me at the end of each day. I had started with offering every coin to Hestern and Lemet but they always took half instead. So I wasn’t broke, but I had no idea what kind of buying power it had. I was used to the sort of money story writing paid, which wasn’t much but more than enough to contribute to household food, buy some clothing, and maybe splurge sometimes online with games and such.

  I couldn’t read any of the signs and didn’t understand much outside of butchery and some household items. But I could greet people, say ‘I do not understand’ or something to that effect and ask ‘What is this?’. Deciding it wouldn’t hurt to at least inquire about clothing I stepped inside the shop and looked around. It was a small place, a bit cramped thought I could still move around in it. I didn’t think a bulky minotaur would have had a good time though. Behind the counter was a being I hadn’t seen before, even out in the streets. It was as tall as he was with skin covered in thin scales or some kind of strange short feathers, with a head that thinned as it went backwards with skin connecting it in a flap attached to the neck.

  “Hello” I heard it say in what sounded like a musical voice along with words I hoped were about helping me. It didn’t seem to be shouting and telling me to leave after all. I pulled at what was now left of my robes, pulled the money I had from the pouch I had secured in them and said “I do not understand” before gesturing around, “Help?”.

  The clerk blinked at me, moving its head back a bit while the body stayed put. The eyes seemed to drink me in as I stood there nervously. After a moment it leaned its head forward again, put out one hand and said something I did not understand. Hoping that it was about money I offered what coins I had and gestured around again while tugging at my soiled robe.

  Fingers closed over the offered money and I thought I heard it sigh before it came around the counter to look me over again. I could hear a distinct tongue clucking before it turned towards the back of the store and started rummaging through the racks there. It pulled at several fabrics before looking back at me. Their eyes traveled up and down my body, seeming to frown at my legs. I’d noticed that most of the people of this city had legs much like a human, nearly straight down with knees that bent forward. Talloni were an exception to this but only that their legs bent the other way. No one here had legs like Zagarieans. Ours were much longer and bent enough to sit on if at rest. But then if I was being chased I imagined I could outrun any of them as well as jump higher.

  After a minute of examining me, holding up several fabrics and rummaging some more the clerk came back with some kind of robe that looped over a shoulder but would hang down to my knees. They nodded, pressing the bundle of cloth into my arms after folding it back up and gestured that I was to leave. “Thank You” I managed, leaving before they changed their mind. I wasn’t sure if I had somehow overpaid or was just taken pity on but at least I had clean clothing.

  —————

  With clean clothes to wear I was able to wash what was left of my yellow lounging robe. If I had been back home such a garment would have been sent to recycling as I would have had access to replacement, but here I needed it as clothing still. My old sling made from the top part of my robe had been given over to Hestern and Lemet to be used as a rag. I had kept the other one though, keeping it stashed along with the small tools and weapons I had forged near to where I slept each night. I didn’t know if I would need them but after what I’d been through I was reluctant to part with them.

  At the home on top of learning various words I had taken some of the cooking and light cleaning duties. Something small to earn my keep. It wouldn’t last since this place was much too small for me. Lizardfolk were nearly two feet smaller than my tall frame and everything in the home was their scale. But until I understood prices for things like food and lodging, and could communicate better, I decided to help out my hosts as much as I could.

  They were patient with me, speaking very simply in the common tongue while sometimes holding private conversations with each other in their own. Hestern had promised the gate guard that they would help me get on my feet so I wouldn’t be sleeping on the streets after all. As much as I felt like I might be cramping them with my size I also knew that it was a point of pride for her, for them both really, that I would not be leaving as their guest until I could support myself. The butchery was a lot of help there. Work I had learned to handle by virtue of my [Survival] and [Hunter] levels, along with my own study. But it wasn’t what I wanted to do long term. Just my entry in this city.

  While sitting by the hearth in the nest I used for sleeping, I made a mental list of my goals. One was learn more of the language. Enough to talk in more than just gestures and a few words. Then was to find some work that would pay enough to get a room of my own, and hopefully pay back even more of the lizardfolks’ generosity. After that find out if there were others of my kind, or others who had somehow appeared here, in this place. If there was a way to go home that could come after.

  Writing. That should be my next purchase as I was learning the language around here. I needed something to write on and with. I’d seen the ledger that the minotaur had at the gate so I knew such things existed. I would just need to inspect more shops. I also had to make more money. Enough to buy what I needed, provide to Hestern and Lemet for my room and board, and some to save for when I could get my own lodging. I mentally added the writing to the list, after the increased work.

  ———

  Butchery wasn’t the only thing I was doing by the second week of my stay. While it didn’t always pay in coins I sometimes helped with cart unloading at the warehouse. It was either coins or I was handed a bag of some staple. Rice, root vegetables (which were not good for me to eat but the lizardfolk enjoyed them), and sometimes flour. Each I gave to my hosts much to their joy. The warehouse also exposed me to other people. The butchery was quiet by comparison but those of us hauling bags and barrels around were fond of talking. They also seemed to recognize that I could not really understand them but it didn’t stop them from including me. They laughed sometimes, and even if it was possibly at my expense for not knowing, it didn’t seem cruel.

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Several nights into picking up a shift at the warehouse, one of the fellow workers, a stout Talloni only a bit taller than my hosts, patted my arm after work and made gestures that seemed to indicate I should follow. I did recognize a phrase that I believed to be ‘come with us’ as they started moving off with several other workers, which included a human, a minotaur, and something scaly with hard plates along both the back and torso. We had just been paid in coins that evening and I really hoped they didn’t mean me harm as I followed them to a rather noisy location close by.

  It seemed to be a restaurant of some kind as I could detect overwhelming food smells coming from within. There were also a lot of people in there, and noise which sent both my tall ears and that of the Talloni spinning this way and that. They took me over to a table which thankfully had padded backless benches on one side where both myself, the Talloni, and the scaly one sat while the human and minotaur settled up against a padded wall.

  I had never really gone to as restaurant that often. The last time was a month before I got to this world after I’d sold my story collection and my family took me out to celebrate. My folks and my siblings. For a moment my heart ached wondering how they were. Were they scared for me? Had something happened to them? There was the chance I sometimes thought of that this whole place was some form of ‘next life’. Some cultures called it the ‘after life’ but I doubted it would be so much like the life I had known. Besides, I’d just been getting up from a desk. Unless something vaporised the building I lived in I doubt I would have died in a second for no reason.

  I snapped out of my sad thoughts as the human slapped the table, gently, but enough to get my attention. He gestured at me, then flicked a hand back to himself. “Ryan” he said. The Talloni went next, tapping their chest with “Tyrech” then pointed at me as well. I got it quickly and tapped my on chest “Ramjack”.

  The others already knew each other by name. The scaled one next to me was “Omril” and the minotaur was called “Drevan”. They went about talking to each other with me sitting there unable to really participate since I couldn’t understand them. They only stopped when a server came by and started asking questions as well.

  Ryan seemed to make some sort of declaration, slapped the table and gestured around with the others nodding. I decided to join in at which point the server left the table and headed off, leaving behind a sheet of paper with several printed drawings on it, as well as scribbling I couldn’t understand.

  The drawings were simple enough, one showed fish, another chicken, rabbit, some kind of rib meat, a leg of something. There were even drawings of leaves and roots, but there were several others I didn’t know at all. At least there were pictures. I could point when the time came.

  Soon the server came back with glasses of some kind of amber liquid and placed one in front of each of us. It did not smell good to me but the others were picking it up ands taking big swigs. I felt I had to join in bit went with a small sip instead. Bitter to my pallet but not as bad as I had feared.

  My companions were cordial. They helped me learn a few words and quickly understood when I was trying to ask what something was. I would point at an object and flick my finger a few times, or tap the side of something I was holding. Words I knew already I would use. While my hosts were nice and had taught me this way as well, for some reason with this group I learned even faster. Maybe it was because of the foundation already laid out for me but by the time we had shared the meal, and the drinks which left me feeling a bit light headed, I felt I had doubled my vocab.

  The food was good, and as it turned out didn’t take all the money I had, just most of what I had earned that day. It was worth it for the bonding alone. This wasn’t something that had been on my list but should have been. I didn’t have friends outside of old classmates and gaming buddies back home. I’d spent too much time at my desk working on stories so I didn’t know how much fun a social hour could be. Even one where I didn’t understand what was being said.

  By the time I returned back to my hosts I found them more like worried parents than land lords. They seemed relieved that I had returned unharmed and I felt a little warm at that, both happy and a bit ashamed. They were not my family but they had pledged to keep me safe.

  “Ate.. Warehouse.. Drinks.” I didn’t have enough words yet but after giving what money I had left for my share around here I think they understood. Hestern even patted my arm, nodding her head vigorously even as her husband said something to her in their own tongue.

  “Good.” She told me, “Work, money, drink, people.” She had other words mixed in there but she spoke and clear and those were the ones I understood. I hoped she was saying that it was good that I was working, making money and going out to drink with the people there.

  ———

  And that was how my next two weeks went, at least by my time keeping. I would eat breakfast with my hosts then go to work at the butchery for a few hours. I would walk a bit in the city to learn my way around and spend the rest of the day at the warehouse. Every few days before the warehouse was closed for a day, we went for drinks and a meal at The Clattering Crossroads. I was learning things fast, enough to string together a better sentence and to understood half of what was said around me, as long as it was slow enough. Both Omril and Tyrech spoke slow enough for me to follow them but Ryan was often so fast with his words it was lucky I could figure out anything he said.

  It was the end of the week once again, my time between the butchering work which I had gotten quiet good at, and my time in the warehouse. I had a little money saved beyond what I gave to Hestern, and the money I was keeping for tonight. And that is when, as luck would have it, I found the shop I had been looking for. Outside was a feather on a sign. I had seen it before but had assumed it was a fletcher or something. But this time I bothered to step inside to get better acquainted with things around me.

  Imagine my surprise when instead of bows and arrows, or possibly dead fowl on the wall, I found small pots and what I recognized to be books! There were also feathers, long ones, not the kind you would want on an arrow. Next to those were charcoal wrapped tightly with strips of leather so only a tip could be seen. And more that I now could identify as writing implements.

  “Welcome to the Inky Quill.” A musical voice called. I turned to see a large bird behind the counter of the shop. Not as tall as me but with a flat face covered in beige and brown feathers. A hint of white trimmed their black beak and black eyes as they watched me. I actually took a step back, having not seen any people that were also birds before. The only birds I’d known were the ones I’d killed or butchered.

  “Hi.” I managed nervously. “Buy writing, book?” My speech was in much more of a stutter than normal which seemed to confuse the clerk. Their head tilted completely to the side for a moment, further than I’d even seen on a being whose head wasn’t connected by a long neck.

  “We… lots…” and gestured, making me wish I knew more words “you… money…”

  I slowly approached the counter and dug in the carry pouch I had made from what was left of that first sling. I pulled out some coins then gestured at the books. “What is this?”

  “A book?” The clerk seemed confused too, tilting their head to the opposite shoulder.

  “What is this?” I picked one of the quills.

  “A pen.” The head righted itself before the clerk came from behind the counter. “… You… speak? Understand?”

  I put the pen down and put my hands together, slowly pulling them apart. “A little.” Then held up the coins. “How much?” And gestured again at the items close by.

  They spoke a few more words at me in a questioning way but I couldn’t make it out. I just said “I do not understand” In the same way I had been taught and they seemed to sigh. They put a clawed hand out and gestured at the coins. Hoping they wouldn’t just take money I offered a few coins before taking out more.

  The big eyes of the bird blinked and they studied me for another moment before turning to the racks around us. They plucked up one of the books with a rough cloth cover. I could see a fibrous material inside layered in sheets. Paper, if I recalled correctly from my writing history class. A common material made in the development of many worlds. It handed me the book then picked up one of the pots, hesitated a moment, and put it back in favor of one of the charcoal bits covered in leather.

  “Book… Charcoal Pen. You buy.” It shook the money it had already taken from me then gestured at the door.”

  “Thank you” I managed, putting away the pouch and taking my purchases. At last, I had something to write on and with.

  --——

  While it might seem rude of me to take a book to a social outing, when we got to the Clattering Crossroads that night I pulled it from my pouch and laid it on the table with the charcoal. My companions looked at me curiously.

  “You… write?” Ryan asked me, sounding a bit surprised.

  “Yes, no.” And began to write my name on the page. My words looked nothing like what I had seen on signs and on the menu here. Probably gibberish swirls to them. I then wrote down each of their names down one at a time in a column. “You write, read?” I asked them.

  Ryan and Tyrech both said yes so I handed the book over to them, pointing out to each where I had written their name and asked, “Write name?”

  The charcoal was a bit smudgy on the paper but both did as I asked, even as Ryan shook his head doing so. When it came to Tyrech’s turn she gestured at the other two lines and then out at Omril and Drevan. When I pointed out each she wrote down their names next to the lines too. At least, I hoped that is what had been done. Getting the book back I smiled earnestly. Understanding what I could hear around me was all well and good but now that I was getting words… well, that would open up so much more.

  Hestern and Lemet couldn’t read, which was something I had learned quickly. Reading wasn’t for everyone. Even back home most people couldn’t write, just type or dictate. I wasn’t even sure everyone I knew could read, they might just use auto readers as well to translate anything they needed. But I was always fond of words that were not spoken.

  “Thank you.” I told them. I even copied down the menu as much as I could alongside my own words of what I could see of the associated pictures. But I put the book away once the drinks were served. My excitement over finally getting to write again would have to take a back seat to valuable social time.

  ———

  [Chronicler] Level 2 [Translate Writing] gained!