The wanderer woke up lying on the dirt.
He tried to remember the night before. "Uh! Ouch!" He felt around, 'not hurt, so why?'
The river tinkled, just a slight bit louder this time. The wanderer responded, "yes, yes, I'll go! Uh!" A memory to be remembered slipped under the stream of his jumbled thoughts.
He was lying right next to the stream he found yesterday. He just followed it downstream.
"Huh, huh." He took a couple of breaths. "I still won't do that. Nope, not going to boil the river." The wanderer steeling himself with his own prejudice on the decree.
The wanderer dragged himself forward, to come face to face with his reflection in the stream.
And he washed away the grime. 'Did I collapse on the bank last night?' he quipped to himself.
He felt he hadn't collapsed from exhaustion—not quite. He just wanted to sleep.
The morning's first ray hadn't touched him or the sky. But he didn't have to look up to know he has woken up yet again before the morning began.
The wanderer straightened up, rising from the grassy ground. After a few stretching exercises he knew, he began once again his walk along the stream.
The wanderer picked up the pack of swimbeast heads he had made.
"Huh, didn't die today as well. Good for me!" The wanderer nodded at his achievement.
He looked both ways along the stream. Indecision plaguing him suddenly, 'should I continue following the stream? Or go back to the dirt road?'
He shook this off, and just walked along as he had been.
A couple hours went by.
A marvel of steel towered all over the outlands, as a wanderer stared back at it.
The wanderer had a brown dirty overcoat, a pack that smelled of swimbeasts and 4 colored rings on his right hand.
The wanderer prayed within, 'just tell me this is Cleaving. Just.' His eyes were a bit hollow. The marvel reignited his curiosity once more.
He was looking at the marvel from afar, some 'leagues' away he believed. He was questioning his decision of abandoning the stream before finding such a marvel of steel.
But more importantly, it was so noisy. The noise made by tons and tons of people. All safe behind a steel wall. Truly a marvel.
'Just..just why? Why make one?' The wanderer inquired himself but no answer.
He walked over to it. His first city in the kingdom of Riga.
The wanderer wasn't questioned at the gate, even when there were two weapon wielding men on both sides of it. Most importantly, the gate was like a gap rather than a hole in the wall.
He didn't look more than what already was in his vision.
But he took little peeks at the steel wall's girth. "It truly is a spectacle! A steel-acle, won't you say?" surprised a voice.
The wanderer reacted, a hesitation in his reaction. But the one who spoke wasn't done, "Hello, I am Cheal-"
The wanderer, after taking a better look at the wall, walked away from Cheal. Leaving him mid speech.
Cheal wasn't disappointed. A small laugh escaped from his lips but he abruptly killed it. And began shouting out, "Here are some posters, who want posters! Posters, people, posters!" As he was scouting the insides of his long jacket, trying to find those alleged posters.
The wanderer walking away didn't look back. His mind somehow was thinking about 'that's a big steel wall, about four or six times my own height. And that just for the breath!'
He wondered now more about how it was made than the why he had in his mind.
"Adiho, adiho! Welcome, welcome!"
"Peas! Peas!"
Noise of the city, was now becoming more and more distinguishable as well as intermixing. Everyone finding where they could squeeze in their own words.
He walked along the road. The road gaining semblance of construction, rather being just a dirt road.
His mind suddenly hummed into himself, 'but what is a poster?'
A few bricks here and there. Some distance away rocks well placed together evenly, instead of bricks. The road had patches of these fighting for their place to replace the dirt road.
He saw a few papers stuck to walls detailing a few things. Looking at it in a glance another time his mind questioned, 'what is a poster?' The wanderer didn't want to turn back, not back to Cheal.
He re-attempted to divert his dark inhibitions on Cheal away and onto the patchwork of road construction.
The victims of these constructions were not only humans, but the tamed animals, beasts and rugged carts.
The wanderer tried avoiding becoming one of those victims. Protecting his pack of swimbeast heads with both of his arms.
Morning's light washing over him every few houses in a while. He looked up after he covered two or so leagues. And what he saw baffled him.
Another massive wall, towering over all the houses, none of them being over a storey.
But the wall. The wall was larger. Larger than the steel wall and also further away. A goliath.
His mind steeling itself against the possible conversation he may have on that wall. But one statement kept banging around his mind, 'what is a poster?' He had seen wagons, paper stuck to the walls, hanging from the rooftops, carried by people, nothing gave him a meaning to the word since Cheal had used that word.
"Keep it in, keep it in." The wanderer whispered under a breath.
The steel wall may have been a marvel. This wall, made entirely of stone and mud, was a goliath. It didn't baffle the wanderer that he couldn't see it before entering the city.
But had he truly entered the city? There was another wall in front of him, its rim unbroken. Unlike its brethren steel wall, this wall had guards at its top rim.
The wanderer baffled tripped and fell to the ground. He twisted mid fall. Looking straight up at the sky, pure blue sky with clouds in it.
A normal view for him, except he was in a bit of pain. The view's value or its eeriness was only known in the old scriptures he had read in the last town as well as that lost city-state.
He stood up, dusted his overcoat a bit. And walked along while he checked on his pack.
He just wanted to find someplace that resembled close enough to the last town's 'town guild'. The wanderer knew the only place that could help him was also just something like that.
A few more leagues, and then he was questioned for the first time.
The wanderer was now in front of a gate, akin to a hole or door in a wall. The gate was massive, and so was the Earthen wall.
That was the name of that wall.
'A giant wall, huh.' He thought to himself, a voice humbled his thoughts back—'Willfall'. It was his own.
He jarred himself awake mid walk. That word carried many rumours that the wanderer only had a few inklings of. Yet, he wished not of it, but of the city-state he remembered time to time.
A few moments ago just when he was a few steps away from the gate, a voice called out to the wanderer with a brown overcoat and a pack. "Wait! Traveler, where is your business to?" called out a guard who appeared right in the track of the wanderer.
The guard had his messer drawn pointing downwards. He was a lithe man, covered with leather armour. His eyes a mix of green and black, but his hair it looked earthly.
The wanderer, rather than looking at the sword, responded with, "town hall."
The guard nodded, "alright." He sheathed his sword. And pointed at an alcove made in the wall, "come with me. I'll register you and give you a scroll of the city. Don't lose it."
The wanderer now wondered 'should he have first explored the deceived outskirts of the city he just walked through?' He nodded at the guard.