Chapter 34: Your Identity Is What You Make It On The Road
“Why is there a camp here?” Brat looked surprised, “They don’t plan to settle here, do they? They ran pretty fast.”
This camp doesn’t look like it was just set up, which means these people fled the City District right after something happened in Baldur’s Gate.
Anse looked at the pattern on the tent and vaguely felt it looked familiar.
He waved his hand: “Let’s go around, don’t cause a misunderstanding.”
“Okay…”
At this time, the people in the camp also spotted them, and several tough young men holding weapons on patrol hurried over, blocking in front of the camp.
Anse was just about to speak when his peripheral vision caught Brat staring blankly at the crowd, his expression surprised.
“Emon—” Brat gripped his longsword and waved it vigorously overhead, his expression excited.
A tough man walked out from the camp, wearing half plate armor, carrying a black battle axe on his back. He looked at Brat on the slope in disbelief: “Brat?!”
“It’s me, it’s me!” Brat was beaming with joy. He turned to Anse, “His name is Emon, he was the captain of my old adventure team, now he’s in the Stonemason Guild, reliable.”
Anse suddenly understood; no wonder the mark on the wind lantern looked so familiar—it was the stone face pattern of the Stonemason Guild.
“Let’s go over.”
They walked down the grassy slope. Brat jogged a few steps and hugged the approaching man tightly, slapping each other’s backs with loud thuds.
“I thought you were dead.” Emon’s eyes reddened slightly, his deep voice a bit hoarse, “The entire Lingang Hospital is gone, just a big pit left…”
“I was lucky and didn’t die; the captain saved me.” Brat grinned nonstop.
“Captain? Didn’t we agree no more adventuring?” Emon’s expression changed slightly.
“Strictly speaking, it’s not adventuring, it’s escaping for our lives.” Brat said self-mockingly, “Don’t you know what’s happening in Baldur’s Gate? Monsters everywhere.”
“Mm.” Emon’s eyes dimmed; how could he not know.
Anse watched the man beside Brat and secretly admired: ‘He’s really tough!’
This man named Emon was fully two meters tall, with arms thicker than his thighs, but he walked lightly and didn’t seem cumbersome.
At this moment, the dice popped up the man’s information:
【Emon, human, level 4 barbarian（berserker）】
‘Not bad strength.’
Anse looked at his size and figured his talent must be good too.
After all, big is strong!
Brat pulled Emon in front of Anse and smiled as he introduced them: “Anse, this is my old captain Emon…”
“Hello, Emon.” Anse’s lips curved into a strange smile.
A berserker as captain—he seemed to have heard that somewhere?
Emon saw the handsome Nolnos and looked surprised, then looked at Anse and immediately thought the man and horse matched well; this kind of person should ride this kind of horse.
“Haha, hello current captain, I’m the former captain Emon…” He took a liking to Anse and unconsciously made a little joke.
After a simple introduction, Emon introduced Anse and the others to his companions.
Everyone had come out of Baldur’s Gate and knew someone in common, so the atmosphere was harmonious.
It was just that Nolnos kept standing beside Anse, so everyone was a bit afraid to get close to him.
Emon was the head here; it was clear the others respected him a lot.
He invited everyone to the camp’s “living room,” which was actually just a bunch of outdoor wooden stumps with a rough wooden board; the tents were too small and only enough for living in.
“What’s the situation in the city now?” Emon asked eagerly.
“Sigh, not good, a lot of people died…” Brat glanced at Anse and began recounting recent events one by one.
He had a real talent for storytelling; he told it with ups and downs, gripping, drawing constant gasps from those around.
In his telling, Anse became the story’s protagonist, appearing at key moments every time, slaying countless enemies, becoming the hero who turned the tide.
He successfully garnered a crowd of admiring looks; even Emon’s expression changed.
Sure enough, your identity outside is what you make it!
What was clearly an escape or desperate act became an epic of a brave hero who risked his life to save humanity.
Anse kept a blank expression pretending to be an expert, but he was actually cringing hard inside and kept signaling Brat with his eyes; Brat thought he wasn’t being “detailed” enough and got even more enthusiastic.
Might as well do without this “spokesman.”
He simply used going to the toilet as an excuse to leave the outdoor living room and secretly observe the surroundings.
This camp’s location was well chosen: high ground, solid ground, no snakes or insects, easy access to water, forest on the opposite shore not far away, so wild beasts generally wouldn’t blunder in.
The surroundings were fertile soil with signs of cultivation; withered rice or vegetables mixed in the weeds.
The camp had about forty people, half the old and weak women and children, families in tow; it wasn’t easy for Emon to bring them out safely.
When he sauntered back, everyone was waiting for him and stood up as he approached.
“Emon, do you plan to settle here?” Anse asked.
“Temporary stop; we came here following the map. This village is called Giant Red Deer Village; it was abandoned for some reason. We’re afraid of eating through our supplies, and the season is right, so we’re planting some vegetables…” Emon’s voice was deep and his speech organized.
Giant red deer is a large celestial creature, rarely seen in Faerun.
“Mm, why aren’t you staying in the village? Do you know the people in the village?” Anse pressed.
“Many houses in the village are unsafe and can’t withstand wind and rain; the well is dry too, inconvenient for water. I don’t know the group you’re talking about, but they were already in the village before we arrived yesterday.” Emon’s expression was serious.
Anse’s gaze dropped slightly; there must be some evil alignment among those Amn people. He worried they had bad intentions, but they’d been there so long it couldn’t be to block them specifically.
Because even he didn’t know he’d come here today.
“Does the number match the footprints?” Anse looked at Finn.
Finn shook his head: “Hard to say; many traces were destroyed by the heavy rain.”
“Could they be smugglers?” Brat guessed.
Smuggling was rampant in Cloak Forest and the nearby Skaarn Rock inlet to the sea, going on for who knows how many years, almost an open secret.
“Possible.” Emon’s face was grave, “If they don’t bother us, we pretend we don’t see them.”
He had to be responsible for his Stonemason Guild brothers and didn’t want trouble.
Anse smiled, disagreeing inwardly but not saying more.
The Faerun continent was never peaceful: divine power, faith, politics, magic, race, survival, planes, desires, money… contradictions and oppositions were intensely fierce.
Harmony was temporary; conflict was the main theme.
The Goddess of Magic was both “obedient” and “homebody,” yet which disaster or plot ever spared her!
If you don’t cause trouble, others will cause it for you; even just looking wrong can get you hacked with a knife, let alone unknowingly getting in someone’s way.
——
It was getting late and everyone was tired, so Anse and the others decided to stay and rest for the night.
They chose an open spot on the west side of the camp to set up their tent, and Emon sent people to help.
By the time they finished, the camp had two campfires lit; one had a large iron pot simmering rice soup, though it looked a bit bland.
The other campfire had over a dozen foot-long strange fish roasting side by side, with some long stick bread piled around.
Emon invited them to the crude wooden table, looking a bit embarrassed: “No one has wilderness survival experience, so we only caught a few fish.”
Anse glanced at the holes in the fish and secretly laughed.
These were clearly skewered on; the air force guys cared about face.
Thanks to all reader lords for your support and suggestions!
