Sins of the Forefathers: A LitRPG Fantasy Isekai

From one moment to the next, I was somewhere else. There was no in-between frame, no flash of light, or expository dialogue to explain my change in circumstance. I didn’t get a reason for the complete ruination of my life.

No, I got to fall on my ass in the middle of a forest clearing in-between eye blinks.

At the very least, I wasn’t naked at the time, being out and about and wearing regular worn clothes and worn shoes. I couldn’t even imagine how much more confused I would have been if I had been transported in the middle of the night or in the dead of sleep, instead.

I like to consider myself a fairly level-headed person most of the time, but this went beyond the norm. Bearing my new, extraordinary circumstances in mind, however, I’m willing to forgive myself for being stunned enough to not realize I wasn’t alone. To be fair, I don’t think they had noticed me yet either.

Maybe fifteen feet away from where I was sitting, there was a scene out of a historical period piece happening. What appeared to be a train of perhaps thirty wagons with covered roofs had created a circle around a bonfire. Inside that circle, I could see a mass of people in rough-spun clothing going about their day, setting up a camp, and doing chores. On the outskirts of the camp, however, the most visible people would have to be what could only be guards. They didn’t look to be very attentive, as it appeared that the guards of this camp were the restless teenagers given a spear and busy work.

At the same time that I noticed the nearest ‘guard’, he noticed me. With a shout, the nearest one attracted the attention of the others and started towards me. Scrambling to my feet, I tried to make myself look non-threatening to the pissed-off-looking teen by raising my hands and speaking calmly.

“Hey, uh, I don’t really know what’s going on, but I’m not looking for any troub-” I started. Before I could finish my sentence, the teenager had gotten close enough to me that he could ready his spear, point it at me, and start shouting.

The problem was, I didn’t understand a word of what he was saying. Frankly, I couldn’t even identify the language that he was speaking.

That did not have great implications.

The shouting of the guard had not only drawn the attention of the other guards, which were starting to stream over to me, but it appeared to have drawn attention from the camp itself. Appearing at the edge of the camp was an older man in more functional-looking armor than the leather gambesons over simple woolen clothing that the teenagers had. This guy was wearing actual chainmail, a steel helmet, leather vambraces, and carrying a sheathed sword at his waist and a shield over his back.

Making his way over to us, the older man barked a command at the other guards and made a dismissive motion at them. As they started to return to their posts, what I could only conclude was their overseer had reached the guard still pointing a spear at me.

Taking his eyes off me to speak to the older man, the teenager started jabbering away at the older man excitedly. As he started to speak, the overseer turned a suspicious glance my way based on whatever the guard was telling him. However, whatever he was being told was clearly not making him very happy. Before the teenager was even finished speaking, the older man snapped something at him that made him fall quiet.

Taking a closer look at me, the older man suddenly began to frown harder than he had been. For some reason, he just kept awkwardly looking at me, as if something would change if he stared long enough. Several minutes passed in this way before the man turned and spoke to the teenager again, suspiciously keeping one eye on me. Suddenly, the teenager was staring intently at me as well, but whatever they were trying to do was clearly not working. The teenager squinted suspiciously before he turned to the older man and said something to him.

The older man was quiet for a few seconds before glancing at me again. Suddenly, in a startlingly fast movement, the overseer grabbed a wooden truncheon he’d hidden in his belt behind his sword and swung at my head with blinding speed.

I was only able to recognize what was happening as the club neared my temple. Before I could react, from one moment to the next, I was unconscious.

……………………………………...

I couldn’t tell how long I'd been out of it. For all I knew, I had been out for days.

As I slowly started to come to, I was barely cognizant of my surroundings. Frankly, I felt like total shit. I had a massive, pounding headache and a ringing in my ears like I had never experienced in my life. I hadn’t even opened my eyes yet and wasn’t even sure I was able to considering how groggy I was feeling. I barely retained enough presence of mind to wonder if this was what a concussion felt like.

What had actually awoken me, however, was the feeling of a wet rag being gently dabbed on my face.

Slowly cracking one eye open, I tried to look at whoever was touching me. I couldn’t manage it, however, as my eye wasn’t able to focus properly. All I was able to see was a vaguely human shape gently wiping my face with a rag.

And then I passed out again.

……………………………………...

When I woke up for a second time, I felt fine. Which, frankly, startled me awake very easily once I realized that fact.

Jerking my head up from where it had been resting on my chest and opening my eyes, I was actually able to take in my surroundings this time.

It was nighttime when I woke up and I must have been in the back of one of those wagons I had noticed earlier. I was sitting in the back of one of them with my arms tied behind my back to a post built into the wall of the wagon. Furthermore, I had a rag tied around my mouth in order to prevent me from speaking. Glancing around, I guessed this must have been one of the supply wagons considering the number of food products I could see sitting in crates around me.

At the back of the wagon, the opening had been left uncovered to a view of the outside. This didn’t help me very much however, the way the wagon was situated meant that all I had was a view of the forest not very far away. Looking at the forest, I could guess that this caravan had moved from the place I had arrived in, however. From what little I could see; it looked like a much smaller clearing.

It must have been very late when I woke up because I didn’t hear any activity from the camp where I was. I could see a faint amount of firelight from what remained of the bonfire, but other than the faraway crackling of logs and the call of faraway insects, that was all I could hear.

Taking stock of myself, I felt surprisingly fine. Despite being hit in the head extremely hard, by my standards at least, I don’t think I even had a scratch to show for it. The only aches I could complain about were the ache in my arms from being tied, and the ache in my ass from sitting on wood in one place for who knows how long.

Relaxing now that I didn’t seem to be in immediate danger, I let my head fall back against the wagon wall with a thunk.

What the fuck was happening to me, I thought to myself. I had to wonder if anything that was happening to me was even real. Was this all a dream? Did I get hit by a car, and this was a coma? Recollecting the series of events that had brought me to this point, I stifled a hysterical laugh from exploding out of me. First, I get teleported somewhere else completely out of the blue instantaneously. Second, I get threatened with a spear by a skinny teenager. Third, I get knocked the hell out by some medieval LARPer and then tied up in the back of an honest-to-God wagon.

I couldn’t comprehend how this was happening, and I didn’t want to.

I must have spent the next hour staring blankly at the other side of the wagon before something knocked me out of it. Raising my head, I was able to put my finger on what had unsettled me. The insects had stopped, and the forest had gone silent.

Something must have caught my eye in my peripheral vision because I looked out to my right at the forest through the wagon's back.

There was movement in the trees.

Freezing up in immediate terror like a mouse before a cat, I tried to look more closely at what was happening at the tree line. As I watched, several indistinct man-like forms started to slink out of the darkness and into the clearing. It was hard to focus on them, however, as the forms of these creatures were blurred somehow. It reminded me deeply of a movie I had seen as a child about an alien stalking an army platoon.

Whoever or whatever was getting closer to the caravan was extremely cautious, even with their ability to become semi-translucent. Squinting, I was able to make out over a dozen forms slowly crawling along the ground, making their way towards the caravan.

For a moment I considered trying to call out to try and wake the caravan or even alert any potential guards that had missed the coming danger. But, for whatever reason these paranoid idiots had put a gag on me. Beyond that, I didn’t even have much room to thrash about to try and make some noise, being bound to the wall the way I was.

That decision seemed like it would come back to bite them in the ass shortly.

Before long, the forms that were creeping across the clearing had passed beyond the limited sight allowed by the portal of the wagon. I tensed up, dreading what was surely going to happen soon. These people, this caravan was undoubtedly in real danger right now. Nobody that had any kind of pure intentions would be trying to approach a camp so stealthily. I made the decision to try and hunker down closer to the wagon floor and behind the crate of vegetables I had been looking over the top of.

For long minutes, I didn’t hear anything but the stifled sound of my own breathing. Then, a stifled scream, as if it had been cut short somehow.

After that, the camp erupted in a riot of noise, too difficult to parse all at once.

The sound of banging and shouting, as if someone was pounding on a metal object.

The high-pitched scream of a woman, stifled.

The cry of the horses, frightened by the noise.

The cacophony of steel upon steel.

Considering everything that was no doubt happening in the camp, the attack didn’t take overly long. Ten, perhaps fifteen minutes after the ambush had occurred, the furor died down. Outside the wagon, I could hear a harsh, guttural voice in that same language I didn’t understand earlier. There was an intonation to one of these voices, louder than the others that I couldn’t place, as if every word they spoke had an undertone.

It didn’t in any way sound human.

They were yelling and screaming at other people, hitting them as well from the fleshy noises I could hear. I couldn’t really tell what they were doing, but most of the voices seemed to be congregating near the bonfire.

After a few moments, one of the harsh voices yelled loudly, causing most of the moans and crying to quiet down, if not stop. Then, what seemed to be a long explanation from the same voice that had yelled.

This seemed to spark something in the humans, as one masculine voice spoke up, angry and frightened. This caused the harsher voices to erupt in even harsher laughter.

Then, a slicing noise. And two separate thuds.

More screams and cries from the gathered humans, before harsh yelling and screaming caused them to cease.

After that, things moved quickly. I heard struggling as the surviving humans were separated out and moved around the camp. I heard people rummaging about through the items left around the camp. I heard the wagons and horses being readied to move out.

I heard the heavy sound of boots moving to the back of the wagon I was trapped in.

With a growling laugh, the figure at the wagon opening tossed something into the wagon that landed in front of me.

It was a woman. Hogtied.

Our eyes met.

She was younger than me perhaps, but only by a few years. Brown hair, brown eyes, tanned skin, and the build of a woman that worked for a living. She could have been anyone back home, the veritable Jane Everywoman.

Right now, she was covered in mud, blood, and tears.

After a moment, the woman seemed to dismiss me. Turning on her side away from me as best as she could, I could hear her start to sob silently into the gag that they had fitted her with. Much like my own.

As the wagon started to move out, no doubt being directed by one of the raiders, the end oriented itself towards the bonfire I had seen and heard. I risked a quick peek over the top of the crate I was cowering behind.

Fading in the distance, I could see a vision of horror. The raiders had callously tossed over a dozen human bodies on top of the bonfire. Men, women, those teenage guards, and even a few children were visible.

Burning.

Crackling.

An indescribable smell of burning human meat reached me, even at this distance.

Slumping back down to hide behind the crate once more, I helplessly stared at the wall over top of the still sobbing woman.

Captured twice since I’d gotten here, wherever here was.

What the hell was going to happen to me now?