The morning sun penetrated through the dirty window of my tavern room, spreading long, harsh shadows across the bare stone walls. I rose from the uncomfortable mattress, my muscles throbbing from the previous day's efforts. The happenings at the Temple of the Blood God still tormented me, a clear reminder of my arrogance and ignorance. But mistakes are just lessons on how not to make them again. So it's not a biggie at all, I tell myself.
I made my way downstairs to the common area, where the tavern's owner was diligently wiping the grime-encrusted tables. "Morning," I greeted her, my voice hoarse from sleep. "I'd like a bath and a change of clothes, if you have them."
The woman watched me with a mixture of amusement and mistrust. "For a blood mage, you're awfully particular about your hygiene," she said, a sardonic smile tugging at her lips.
Why does it look like everyone knows what I am? I glanced at my ever present undead companion. Nevermind, this is a pretty big sign for anyone with eyes. Have I been too friendly though, why would she be this calm in the presence of one such as myself? Still, it doesn't hurt to have a few friends.
"A clean body makes for a clear mind," I said, dropping a few coins onto the counter. "And I have much to think about."
She nodded, her gaze softening slightly. "Very well," she said. "The bathhouse is out back. And I might have some clothes that'll fit you, assuming you don't mind them being a bit worn."
I spent the next hour soaking in the steaming water, cleaning away the muck and blood of the preceding few days. As I donned the clean, albeit threadbare, clothes the woman had donated, I felt a fresh sense of purpose. I was no longer the pompous idiot who had thought he could brute force his way into the Temple of the Blood God. I am me, Ash Blackwood, and I am also Ash Blackwood, the blood mage. And I would do well to avoid making such rookie mistakes.
Dressed in a fresh set of clothes and looking very different from the bloodsoaked fellow that came to this town earlier, I stepped out into the new day. Good thing that the internet or any photocapturing media doesn't appear to exist in this world, I wouldn't want to be instantly recognizable. Not that they know Ash.
And so, with a renewed clarity of mind, I set out into the bustling marketplace, my senses attuned to the sights, sounds, and smells of the town. The air was dense with the smells of spices, roasting meats, and exotic perfumes. Merchants clamoured to sell their wares from colorful kiosks, their voices a cacophony of haggling and bartering.
I made my way through the swarm of people, my eyes scouring the crowd for any hint of chance. It wasn't long until I observed a bunch of merchants preparing to go. Their wagons were packed with stuff, their horses snorting and stamping anxiously.
I approached the leader of the group, a hefty man with a bushy beard and a cunning twinkle in his eye. "Greetings," I said, with a modest bow. "I am a traveler seeking passage to the next town. I am strong and capable, and I am eager to work for my keep."
The merchant examined me with a mixture of distrust and fascination. "What skills do you possess, young man?" he inquired, his voice rough and businesslike.
"I am a skilled laborer," I said. "I can load and unload freight, look to the horses, and maintain watch at night. I am also a quick learner and willing to satisfy."
The merchant rubbed his beard thoughtfully. "Very well," he said at last. "You may travel with us. But don't believe for a moment that I'll tolerate any sloth or insubordination. You will earn your keep, or you will be left behind."
I nodded, a smile growing across my face. "You have my word," I said. "I will not disappoint you."
As I joined the caravan, I couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement. This was a new beginning, a chance to explore this unusual world and discover more about the skills I possessed. I was resolved to make the most of it. I thought of my thrall and my decision to forsake it.
Where is my ever present servant you might ask? Well, earlier this morning, when I left the tavern, I left with my hooded up thrall. The corpse was now devoid of even the smallest spark of unlife I had endowed it with, collapsed in the alleyway like an abandoned puppet. I had reclaimed the borrowed life energy, severing the final tie to the blood mage whose legacy I now bore.
It was a small seemingly inconsequential move, a show of defiance against the shadow of my predecessor. I decided needed a fresh start of sort. You can't start running when you haven't learned to crawl yet. And I certainly could not do much discreetly with such a creature shadowing me. It needed to go. Once done, I had worked out from the alley, and the morning sun glinted off the specially crafted dagger on my hip. The dagger I found myself with when I first opened my eyes to this world.
Now this dagger certainly isn't going anywhere. Not until I can extract what secret it possesses. The fact that It was useful to this world's Ash is a strong indicator for its beneficial nature.
I got shocked back to the present with a tap on my should from one of the other vendors. It appeared i had spaced out for a moment. The merchants were pointing to the blade in my hands. They eyed it with a mixture of dread and wonder. "Just a tool," I told them with a dismissive shrug. "These are dark times, and a man needs to be able to defend himself."
They seemed happy with my answer, their attention shifting to the task at hand. "Alright, lad," the leader growled, gesturing towards a robust, wooden cart attached to a team of oxen. "Let's see what you're made of. Start placing those containers into the back."
I started to work, hoisting the big crates with unexpected ease. The memories of this body's might were still fresh, a latent power hiding beneath the surface. I was careful not to overdo it, disguising my genuine ability with a show of effort. At least I was stronger than I was on while still on Earth. than magic. Magic was unsurprisingly still something I hadn't really gotten the hang of. That was excellent to know. I understood physical strength much better. The merchants observed me attentively as I worked, their eyes narrowing in appraisal.
After what seemed like an age, the wagon was fully loaded, its contents secured with ropes and tarpaulins. The merchants packed their stuff, mounted their horses, and prepared to depart. I hopped onto the back of the wagon, finding a comfy seat amongst the containers.
As the caravan lumbered out of town, I couldn't help but feel a sense of expectancy. The broad road spread before me, a ribbon of possibilities flowing into the heart of this weird new universe. I was anxious to discover its secrets, to uncover the mysteries of my own strength, and to make my own destiny. The journey had begun.