Singer Sailor Merchant Mage – Litrpg Progression – from the very beginning

“Every tall tale was rooted in truth.”

Kerri Maniscalo

 

My mana did not last the hour, but it did last long enough for me to see the town of Drangavik appear on the horizon. It was the first northern town of the Kingdom of Tramontana, which meant there would be humans. The giants had been surprisingly accommodating in accepting our arrival and departure. Namir was unsure that humans would be as welcoming of his presence so far north of Ostro. On the other hand, he felt they would be perfectly enamoured with me to the point of keeping me should we tarry too long.

 

The town was nestled on the banks of a river that cut westward through the icy wasteland. The hint of trees growing on the tundra was far in the distance beyond it. They had clearly located themselves on the banks of the river for trade, as we could see a boat working its way downstream and entering the town with a mix of human and giant structures. Nyx and I touched down just behind the ridgeline, out of sight of the town, to prepare for our arrival.

 

Since our unexpected arrival on the endless ice, she had grown dramatically in strength and size. Whether this was due to her diet of beast cores, her new immunity to the cold, or some sort of osmosis where the giant's size affected her growth, I knew not, but she was rapidly approaching her adult size. Regardless, she could now accompany me on my one-hour flight, though she struggled to keep up and was perfectly happy to hitch a ride on my back, the first-ever human rider.

 

“We’re here,” I said, opening the portal behind the ridgeline. We were out of sight but at the top of the ridge and would have a good view of where we had come from and where we were going with a short step up to the top.

 

Namir emerged, pulling out a single-man sledge piled with furs and a small selection of the trade goods I had squirrelled away. “I guess I’m expected to pull this.” He asked rhetorically as he pulled it out.

 

I had not spent all my time regaining my mana sitting still. I had also sung sledge into existence, teasing out the growth from the four trees to form a set of runners and a basic frame. “It would look pretty strange if I was the one pulling it. I thought you wanted me to keep my head down. Besides, it is downhill from the ridge, toward the town from here.” The sledge was larger than my frame could reasonably pull, although I could probably have made a decent attempt at shifting it even if I could not pull it very far.

 

“Yes, of course I am.” He nodded before adding, “But I did not want you to feel left out, so I made you your own.” Namir grinned as he produced a much smaller and less well-fashioned version of the one he was pulling. Nyx, sensing his amusement, pounced on the freshly made form of transport, circling and stretching before settling down contentedly on top of it. That was the problem with leaving Namir unattended in a spatial vault full of everything he could have possibly needed. The devil makes work for idle hands and he had to have started immediately on seeing the one I had grown for him.

 

“You shouldn’t have,” I said sardonically.

 

“Nonsense. We can’t have you miss out on the experience after all,” he continued, unashamed. Now that we had some time to think it through, our new story was that we were completing a circumnavigation for the gods. The story had the benefit of being true and neatly explained what a beastkin and human were doing so far from their home kingdoms alone and unaccompanied.

 

“Well, let's get you hitched up and start moving if we hope to reach the town before they close the gates for the night.” Namir held up the harness and rope for me.

 

Nyx, unaffected, settled in to enjoy the last leg of our journey.

 

. . .

 

An hour or two later, we were finally approaching the gates of Drangavik. Namir had slowed his pace to accommodate mine. Full of mana, I was tempted to fly, but a more accurate update on the lay of the land was a necessity before I began making any waves. Dragging the sledge behind me might help sell our story, but it was exhausting, and I couldn’t help but notice Namir’s enjoyment of my struggle when everything else usually came so quickly to me.

 

“Hail the gate,” Namir shouted the two men standing watch on the wall above the northern gate. They stood silently for a moment before one disappeared out of sight. The enormous wooden gates slowly creaked open, revealing two giants standing behind them. Hidden behind the gates, they would have surprised anyone unaware or who had failed to sense them. Unsurprised, we continued to plod onward and inward when we found our way barred.

 

“Who goes there?” The lone guard still on the wall above challenged our entrance.

 

“Two tired pilgrims on their circumnavigation,” Namir answered up for the pair of us.

 

“Pilgrims? What are your names, and where do you come from?” He continued to question.

 

“Namir, Kai and from the giant village of Thorpe,” Namir responded.

 

“And your creature?” The second questioned, having returned to the top of the wall and having noticed Nyx soundly asleep on my small sledge being dragged behind me.

 

“A dragonling,” Namir answered the last question.

 

“A dragonling? I’ve never seen one before. I didn’t think that they did too well in the cold.” The second continued, intrigued.

“She seems to have adapted well enough,” Namir casually commented, not mentioning the wealth of elixirs and cores she had devoured. Or her refusal to leave our inner clothes on our first arrival.

 

“You headed a little too far north if you ended up in the endless ice. This is the northern border of Tramontana.” The first of the guards interjected back into the conversation. While the two giants holding their gates stared down intimidatingly at us.

 

“The gods will recognise our commitment to the circumnavigation of the compass kingdoms,” Namir replied bluntly. Religious reasons were always complicated to argue against, and the guards didn’t even try.

 

“A pair of lunatics.” The first guard whispered to the second, falsely assuming we couldn’t overhear him. Before he continued louder, “You have money for your stay?”

“We have money enough for a night and goods to trade on the morrow,” Namir added seemingly oblivious to their comments. We were playing a part I reminded myself. I did not need to get attached to my answers or attempt to defend them.

 

At least two pilgrims on their circumnavigation made more sense than two sailors shipwrecked north of the sea of storms. The first option was far more plausible than the other. It also explained our small party. If we had money to stay the night and goods to trade, the soldiers saw little reason to stop us from entering.

 

“Enter and keep the peace in the compass.” The first guard finally allowed us to enter.

 

“Where is the town tavern?” Namir asked as we entered Drangavik's gates the giants stepping aside to let us in.

 

“Straight down the road, the town centre, you can’t miss it.” One of the giants replied from above in a deep voice, felt as much as heard as he closed his gate with a thump.

 

“You passed through Thorpe?” the other asked in a loud attempt to be quiet, pushing his gate closed with another thud. “Any news? I have family living there.”

 

I looked at Namir. We had plenty of news about Thorpe. The question was how much we wanted to share: our arrival, the exodus, the flight, the fight, and the Ice Giants' death.

 

“They have had a busy month,” Namir calmly commented.

 

“Zatnar,” his voice boomed above our heads. “Watch the gate and wait for relief. I’ll walk them into the Ice’s End.” He turned to accompany us as we made our way down the central road. Our sledges dragged behind us on the snow, which was quickly turning to slush and mud as we entered the town.

 

“Fine, but you’ll owe me a pint, Zadrog.” The other giant’s voice boomed back.

 

“Here, let me help you with that,” Zadrog said. He reached down to pick up my sledge with one hand, leaving me to hastily untie the harness before being hauled up into the sky. Namir’s sledge, being a little larger, he pulled it along with his other hand after Namir handed him the harness. “So what’s the news?”

 

. . .

 

“Thorpe felled an Ice Giant,” Zadrog whispered in amazement. However, his whisper still reverberated through Ice’s End—the conversation in the tavern hushed briefly before resuming with an undercurrent of worry. The Tavern had a strange mixture of giant and human-sized furniture, with raised human seats so that we could sit alongside giants or at least be closer in height. It was predominantly filled with humans, but each giant there had to consume five humans or more worth of food and ale. After introducing us to our host, Ulf, and helping us get our rooms, he bought us drinks, though mine was more water than ale, and sat down with us.

 

“Yes.” Namir had been vague on our part in the process. Telling the tale as if heard third, not seen first hand or actively participated in.

 

“Incredible.” Zadrog downed his barrel of a beer. It was physically impossible to outdrink a giant, so there was no thought of a competition. “Worrying that one wandered so far south but wonderful that they managed to stop it before it could endanger Drangavik. How long do you plan on staying?” He moved on from the topic.

 

“We just plan on selling some of our hunting and procuring a few more supplies for our journey south, so it will take no more than a day or two.” Namir thought it through out loud.

 

Amazingly, I kept my head down and let the adults talk it through without me. Listening to their conversation, I enjoyed looking around at the mix of people around us. Mainly humans and giants I had spotted an actual dwarf and was attempting to decipher the runes carved into his metal armour subtly.

 

It helped that I could look without using my eyes.

 

I had already catalogued the stone glyphs carved throughout the tavern but they had not added anything new to the knowledge Volur had gifted me during our time in the Thorpe. The Dwarf though had armour I was itching to look at closer. No waves, I wouldn’t pry but it kept my attention as Namir and Zadrog continued to discuss the best route south.

 

“There is always the river. If you want to make the best speed,” Zadrog advised. “It will take you to the coast, then a boat could take you further south around the range of mountains that form the southern border of Tramontana.”

 

“I’d rather not catch another boat if possible,” Namir replied.

 

“If you are not going to the coast, you would have to travel east to the centre of Tramontana before taking the pass south, but that would add months to your journey. Pilgrims generally pass down the river, then along the coast.”

 

“I might run along it, but I'm trying to avoid travelling by water unless I absolutely have to.” Namir was not quite ready to get back in a boat just yet.

 

“I’d take the boat if I could, but I’d sink most vessels. You and your ward would at least float well enough. He’s young to be making the trip.”

 

“He was inspired by a visit to our town from a Bishop aspiring to be a Cardinal,” Namir added a little bit more truth to our history.

 

“Kai, what do you think of travelling by boat?” Zadrog asked.

 

“I’m happy with whatever Namir chooses.” I shrugged. We planned on flying once we were out of sight of Drangavik; it wouldn’t matter much in the end.

 

“Your sledges will be of little use much further south.” He claimed. “This may no longer truly be Ice’s End,” He said, referring both to the Tavern’s name and the end of the Endless Ice, “The ice stretches over the southern horizon but not much further than that.”

 

“Did it used to end here?” I asked interested.

 

“When it was built?” He paused, thinking back, “Yes, sure, the river used to mark the end of the ice. Actual trees used to reach the river, but time and the effort to keep warm have pushed the trees back a little further south each year, and the ice seems to be following them south.”

 

I wondered about global freezing, but no one else seemed to be worried about the slowly encroaching ice.

 

“So we should follow the river,” Namir asked resignedly.

 

“Well, that is what most pilgrims do. Why not check in with the Church of the Lodestar before or after you visit the market tomorrow?” Zadrog seemed happy with finally convincing Namir to consider the easier route.

 

. . .

 

As we sat there contemplating our future journey, I was not the only one keeping a surreptitious eye out on others. Nyx, too, had her share of admirers.