Toledo looked quite different from the last time I was here. It could have been the buildings, none of them over four stories and all of them made of wood or cut stone. It could have been the sprawl of it, with the winding and narrow cobbled streets. It could even have been the market with unrefrigerated meats, butchers nearby watching with naked cleavers in their hands, or the loud farmers selling vegetables out of carts, many of them small and wilted looking. Maybe the obvious open drainage was a clue, or the smells that were ranging from faintly rotten to absolutely disgusting.

It could also be the fully moated castle on the obviously man-made hill overlooking everything. It was sort of rough to tell.

We went through the gate with our escort, the esteemed Captain and his merry men. Who actually had been merry, and nice company for the trip. He waved at me with a wide grin when we split up; he had to report in and we had to find rooms for the night.

“Sheesh, finally. Thought that guy would never shut up.”

Matt did not appreciate the good Captain, or his small talk.

“At least he made things easier.”

The escort had cleared us from any further harassment by other patrols, gotten us in the gate of Toledo with ease, and had kept us from getting attacked on the road. Of course, I wasn't sure about the last part, but with thieves in my room last night, I wasn't about to deny the chance, no matter how tame this area looked. Monsters had nothing on mankind sometimes, after all, and the thief hadn't been a Kobold.

Or if he was, he was a very tall one.

The inn recommended by the Captain was called the “Sword sheath”, and was probably only recommended because the military or cops or whatever they wanted to call themselves had an eye on it already – but that suited me right down to the ground. Some of us had other ideas though.

“We shouldn't be where any organized military can watch or find us.”

Some of them wanted to give me a headache.

“Phil, if we vanish they will just look for us until they find us, and then trust us less because we vanished in the first place. We need to work within any official channels left for now, we need the information they are likely to have.”

Your average mugger or murderer isn't likely to have ideas on what happened to the world, after all. Or if they did, they were unlikely to be useful. There would be plenty of time to check whatever dark underbelly this city had (and I had no doubt at all that it had one) after we had exhausted the side of the street with actual paid spies.

The inn itself was down the main street (I didn't catch the name, road signs seemed to be missing) and near the market. It was not all that different from the road in we'd stayed the night before. Smaller, less sprawling, and without a barn for animals, it still managed to leave the impression with me – probably because it was clean and looked well cared for. I could smell food inside, meat roasting vegetables frying, and they didn't smell as if they were burning.

I missed the lack of trees around it though; even this main street felt a little claustrophobic to me.

The inside was brightly lit thanks to the use of actual skylights made of glass colored a washed out blue set into the slat roof. The place looked clean and smelled of mint – and unwashed people of course. There was a sizable crowd, mostly Men in uniforms and clad in steel; Phil's hands were already twitching, and Thomas looked a little green.

Karl and I, on the other hand, strode up to the bar as if we owned the place; after we all wiped our feet of course. I didn't even have to remind them this time. Aside from a few curious glances, mainly at Ethan, our party was ignored. The bartender was old, graying, and had long since run mostly to fat; though he was in that curious not quite overweight stage. He smiled as we approached, showing some bright shiny teeth.

“Can I help you?”

Alright, so it was polite, but it seemed a bit less so than one would expect. Karl answered while I kept my mouth shut, per our agreement.

“Yes, we'd like rooms if possible.”

“Of course sir! How many?”

“Four.” That was 2 of us per room. I wonder who Karl wanted me to room with. I wasn't sure if I should object after my last inn experience…..

“Of course sir, that will be eight gold.”

Eight gold!?! Per night? Was this place the Ritz or something? Karl handed over the money with a raised eyebrow. The bartender just shrugged and handed him four crude keys. Thinking back, eight gold was around a thousand dollars in my head; I knew what I guess were something like exchange rates. I also knew that while I could afford it easily, staying here for long would probably bankrupt my companions. We needed to find our answers quick or we'd be in back washing dishes or worse.

Karl handed me a key on the walk back to the group. “You'll be with Pastor Collins.”

That made sense – Pastor Collins wouldn't try anything, and he as ex-military, he was better in a physical fight than I was, or even than the robes he wore suggested. So if we wanted to bait a repeat performance, then squash it, he was the perfect choice. He was even a lighter sleeper than I was.

I wasn't in any hurry to dump my stuff in the rooms for obvious reasons, so I took a chair while the others went on up; not that I blamed them, they didn't have bags like mine. I passed the Key to Pastor Collins and flagged down the barmaid as they made their noisy way up the stairs.

The barmaid was less young than the last example, and less pretty, with limp stringy dirt colored hair and a disinterested attitude. Then again, getting groped all day by men with metal gloves while wearing crappy wooden shoes might have something to do with it.

“I'd like a bottle of good wine, and a pitcher of beer for my companions, please.”

“hm, We've some Sigalan red if you want.”

Sigalan red jogged another memory I didn't know I had. Sigalan was an elven kingdom, in Idaho, or what used to be Idaho. On the border of Oregon, or what used to be Oregon, they grew some surprisingly good grapes, somehow. There was some sort of trade secret there that I could almost tease out of my head… but all in all it made for a mid to high quality wine; just short of the truly expensive vintages.

“That will be perfect, thank you.”

She flounced off, literally avoiding a grabby hand by less than an inch. The guardsman the hand belonged to looked amused. Maybe this was a game the two played or something; she didn't seem all that upset either.

I had a book pulled out (my bestiary) and was taking my first sip when the guys came back down. They were pretty noisy and much more relaxed. Phil wasted no time in telling me why as they all sat down, almost fighting over the pitcher like starving dogs over a piece of meat.

“The windows have bars in them; all of them. They are pretty sturdy, too. You'd need a pry bar or hammer to take them out, and it's make a lot of noise. The locks are terrible, but no absolutely awful. Makes things a bit harder for any mystery guests.”

That combined with the military presence the place had, off duty or not, will definitely help. Still, there were other ways, especially with spells. It would be nice if the esteemed Captain had this in mind when he recommended the place, rather than the watching thing. But he could probably manage both thoughts.

“Ah, lass, you read my mind!” Ethan effused at me, blowing froth from his beard.

I managed to keep any of his froth from hitting me; why he'd sat next to me I didn't know.

“Not all that hard really, Ethan. There is only one thought on it, after all.”

He laughed so loudly everyone turned to look; I hid in my cloak hood.

“You've got the right of things there! A day of walking and a cool beer is the only thing I want. Makes the hot dusty day worth it.”

Well at least he didn't take offense and yell at me.

Karl was too busy drinking to comment though Matt was grinning. Thomas was staring into his own half full mug as if it contained something dead – which it may, I didn't actually specify any quality for the beer. An oversight caused by the fact that I wasn't drinking that swill. The others didn't seem to mind, at least.

Randolf had a different take on things. “You should drink this instead of that fruity smelling wine; it'll put hair on your chest.”

I looked down with an arched brow. He shrugged back at me.

“Drink enough, maybe the hair will replace those?”

“Surprisingly tempting, but I think I'll pass. This stuffs pretty good.”

Karl looked relieved to not have a fight on his hands. He really should have more faith, I'm not that touchy.

“So did you order food too?”

“Of course not, I didn't know what any of you wanted.”

Phil finished draining his tankard and stood up. “None for me, thanks. Got things to do.”

So he was going to prowl for information. “You sure? The meal is included in the inn price.”

For as much as the room cost, it had better be. He visibly waffled for a moment before shaking his head.

“Nah, I'll get something along the way. Got to see a man about a horse.”

Karl waved the barmaid back, and she avoided another pinch from the same guy with a grin on her face that matched his; apparently it was a joke after all.

“What can I get for you?” She didn't have a notepad or a menu, I realized. In fact, there wasn't a menu posted anywhere. She also didn't have a name tag.

“Whats' today's special?” Karl asked her.

“Roasted pork and butter beans, with summer squash, or grilled vegetable medley, which is green beans, carrots, mushrooms, grilled and then put in a salad with some tomatoes and radishes.”

So, a vegetarian option, huh?

Everyone else ordered the pork, and the barmaid just nodded as if she expected it. But I just wasn't feeling it today.

“I'll take the grilled vegetable medley.”

Of course everyone but Pastor Collins stared at me as if I had said I'd murder everyone in the room.

“What? Some day's you just feel like a salad.”

Randolf immediately barked out: “I don't.”

“Well, I do.” Philistines. It wasn't like I didn't eat meat; I'd eaten deer jerky on the trip, and rabbit. I just didn't feel like it right now. Hm, was philistines even an accurate term anymore? I was willing to bet the books we now had no longer mentioned the culture. Another thing to check on….

The barmaid skipped off again, taking a few more orders from memory before skipping off into the kitchen. It was mildly impressive, actually, even if most people probably ordered the same thing.

“So, how do we go about finding our answers, lady Muse?” Matt asked, obviously trying to needle me.

“I've got to wait on the good Captain to find time to escort me to the castle, so I can see the wizard in residence. A guy by the name of 'Stick.'” From what the Captain said, he's the one co-coordinating the 'what the hell happened' efforts here.”

“Well that sounds like a whole lot of useless waiting.”

Pastor Collins spoke up: “I believe I can help with that. There are bound to be churches here, with other men of the cloth, whatever cloth that may be now. If I get in touch with them, we might get some answers.”

It seemed unlikely it would be that easy, but it was worth a shot. Karl seemed to agree.

“Alright, but take Thomas with you. It might be dangerous alone.”

Randolf grumbled but stood up when Pastor Collins did, and followed him out the door. Of course, he still had the tankard in his hand, and it was full, but I doubted there were public drunkenness laws on the books anymore. It certainly wouldn't hurt his disposition any, so there was less chance of scaring off any clergy.

Ethan took his cue. “On that note, I'll see if I can contact any Dwarves. There should be some here, and they may know things we don't.”

He stumped out, leaving his own tankard while I looked on. Karl hadn't assigned him a buddy; he'd just waved as he left. Was it just that he was a fighter and Pastor Collins wasn't, or were there maybe some trust issues there? I mean, I didn't trust him, he was a dick. But I thought he and Karl were getting along.

Thomas stood up a mere beer later, wiping the foam from his mouth with a hand.

“Screw this. It's too annoying in here; I'm going outside.”

With a shrug I returned to my book. And then there were three; at least Karl and Matt didn't seem to want to go anywhere. They both looked pretty bored though, so I reached into my bag and pulled out my spellbook and another bestiary edition.

“Do something useful, don't just drink.”

Matt shrugged. “Well, it's better than tiddlywinks or dice.”

Karl just started flipping the pages, no doubt looking at the illustrations. I knew he could read, and I wasn't letting him off that easy. I had to admit the illustrations were very well done however; very lifelike. I didn't really want to know how the artist had gotten some of the creatures depicted in it to hold still in such poses long enough to draw or paint them… that way lay madness.

It was probably magic anyway; the games always made stopping time seem like child's play.

I was done with my wine and the section on elemental contracts when the Captain walked up to our table. The sun had to be setting outside, judging by the light.

“You're late Captain.” I don't think he ever had told me his last name; if he had, I didn't remember it, and I wasn't going to call him Captain Harry.

“Sorry, got held up when making a report to all the assorted brains trying to figure out what happened. You'll be pleased to know that they add Solace and Shrewsberry to the map of affected areas, and the grilled me for an hour on Georgetown for answers I didn't have. Then of course, they sent me to find you, because you'd have an eyewitness account and a much better understanding of what went on there, and never mind that they had delayed me from going back to get you in the first place.”

I grinned and pushed a clean tankard his way. It was going to be his anyway, I'd ordered for him too. That the boys had gone through the first pitcher didn't change that.

“Stay the extra five for a drink? You look parched.”

He sat with a clatter and a sigh. “You read my mind, Lady Muse. Though I really shouldn't here. Word might get back to my superiors regarding my prompt service or lack thereof.”

Karl gave an amused look. “Their fault for wasting time as much as yours. I doubt anyone here is going to rat you out, and if the information is that time sensitive then we should have been there already.”

He nodded but drained his beer in one gulp, so fast he almost choked, then stood up. With a shrug I stood up too. Karl and Matt both stood up a moment later, at the same time.

“If you'll follow me, Lady Muse.”

He led the way out, to where two of his own men were waiting in the street while Karl and Matt both followed me. Somehow I rated two buddies in our system, when Pastor Collins only rated one? The Captain had probably not wanted to spook us, which explained how many men and why for him, but I had to work to stave off the anger. Mildly insulting it may be, it was also accurate that I was one of the weaker members of us, and going into what could be a lion's den.

Karl had to come anyway, as he was our expedition leader; Matt was just being a concerned friend. Nothing to set their hair on fire for.

The streets were more open in the burgeoning darkness; the merchants and stall vendors had closed up shop and most of the people out seemed to be rushing home. There were torch brackets on the walls here and there, but no torches lit, and it was probably going to get very dark very quickly.

“Not paying the torch guy?”

The Captain smirked. “Nope, city is still busy getting lumberjacks to cut the wood. There is a nice convenient forest that popped up not far from the city though, so it's not all bad.”

I thought about it; that would be an awful lot of wood. They needed to switch to natural gas… or magic. Made me wonder, though; shouldn't this city have something like that already, considering the changes everywhere else I'd seen? I could see small towns closing up at night, but cities, even bronze age cities, tended to sleep late. Something else for the book.

One of the escorts was fumbling a torch; I kept forgetting human eyes were worse than mine.

“Well I'll do my part. You all can save your own torches.”

A slight hum and light bloomed, bright and warm as the sun. The captain whistled in appreciation while the guard just shrugged. I sent the ball on ahead of us and the captain led the way. He led all the way up the hill at the edge of town, and to grounds of the castle I was admiring earlier: it was much easier to admire from this range.

The pile of stones was literal, made of local granite blocks big enough to use as a table. It was gray and shot through with bands of dirty yellow. The cobbled road led right to the moat, which was about 20 feet across, and a drawbridge to go over it. There were soldiers all over, and more than a few were carefully watching my ball as it floated up. The rest were watching us – almost as if who would be watching whom was scripted.

“The lady Muse to see the Explorer's council.”

“Of course, Captain Sark, they are expecting you. One moment.” The guy, a tough and grizzled looker who could probably give Randolf a run for his money waved at the guards behind him, and the drawbridge started lowering with a screech.

It took a moment while each group politely pretended we didn't exist to the other for the thing to finally lower. This close I could see the cracks in the treated but obviously aged wood, and the rust in the iron bands holding it together. It didn't even creak as we walked over it, but that kind of lack of maintenance probably said something about the minds of past occupants – or current ones.

The inner courtyard seemed to echo my thoughts. there were the usual outbuildings; the smithy, the stable and farrier, a covered well and a grain silo, barracks and a garden… but the smithy was ramshackle for all it's large size, the stable was unpainted and the wood slats were beginning to warp, and the garden was overgrown. Only the castle itself and the barracks looked cared for, for all that the other buildings were occupied. Cheap candles glowing through windows gave that game away.

There wasn't any sort of chapel, and I couldn't help feeling that there should be one. Didn't all castles used to have one as a standard? Maybe it was in the castle proper or something, but that didn't seem right.

We were quickly led past a truly massive banded iron gate and into the castle proper. I snuffed my light as I walked in; I did not want to cause any misunderstandings. Here things were obviously cared for, with vibrant tapestries dusted fresh flowers placed strategically for color. I suspected if I lifted up one of the corners of the rugs in the receiving hall however, there would be dirt under it. I could see staff working on cleaning, but they were listless; uninterested. The only good news was they seemed even less interested in us than they were in cleaning.

They didn't lack for delicate looking glass and tin lanterns, placed everywhere with an oil and wick burning merrily away.

We were led around the front and to the tallest tower because of course the wizards and wise men would be holed up there. Never mind that the tallest tower was easiest to shell or nuke and visible from great range than the rest of the castle.

There had been plenty of soldiers outside, but there seemed to be precious few in here. Just two in the receiving hall, and two in front of the tower door proper. They stiffened and waved us through, looking at me the entire time.

The ground floor looked like a war room, with a large round table and several people, a few in armor, and many in a multitude of civilian dress, hunched over what looked like maps and reports… most on paper, but some on parchment. Unless I missed my guess that one in the upper right corner was on badly cured sheepskin.

There was a second table, just under the open window, full of food and drink of all kinds. It took full advantage of the breeze and flies, but those grazing on it didn't seem to mind too much. I resolved not to touch anything; I'd eat my ration mix before I touched that mess.

The first person to look up and notice us had to be the mage Sticks. Mainly because, well, he was a collection of sticks. I could see his arm bones, his cheek bones, and if not for the none too clean white robe made of cheap cotton, I would probably be able to count ribs. Worse, he had a large mustache that looked like a caterpillar bristling on his hatchet face; it almost seemed alive. I guess it was making up for the fact that it was the only hair he could grow anymore.

“Lady Muse, thank you for your timely report on the villages and sights you've seen. We've been expecting you, and have a few questions…?”

“Why yes, I am Lady Muse. And you are, sir? Who are your companions?”

He flushed.

“Ah, I apologize. I've not slept in a very long time. I am of course Sticks.' he glared at the Captain as he gave the moniker, there had to be a story there, 'and I'll go around the table for you.”

He started pointing. “From the left, we have Salamander, Pile, and Crone, and Sir Finley Surrat, Sir Dennis Barrington, and Captain Howell, our captain of the guard.”

The first three were obviously magic users: Salamander was a small handsome man with orange hair dressed in oranges and reds; all his clothes had a sort of flame pattern, and he was smoking. More of a dead giveaway could not be given. Pile was the groups Pigpen, in a dirty black robe made of burlap; he even had smudges on his crude featured face. The Crone was a rather ugly looking middle aged human woman, all bony planes and edges, but far from looking witch-like. Almost like a female sticks; She was still glaring at sticks.

“Katerine is my given name. Please call me by it, and don't be like these other assholes.”

Sir Finley Surrat coughed.

“I'm Muse, and I'm pleased to meet you. These are my friends, Matt, and Karl.”

“Pleased to meet you all.' Captain Howell drawled back at us – was he southern, and if so how did that translate so well? 'Now, if you'll come over here, we will try to answer your questions so that you may take the answers back to your patch of the world.

They led us to the table, where a map rested. The map was new and showed the castle we were in. A significant portion of the map around Toledo was covered in a faded pink color. I recognized it as having come from a type of pigment from crushed rocks, and rubbed into the parchment. Shrewsberry was newly colored.

“The colored region is the one we know for sure is like the surrounding area. We were going to mark suspected areas too, but Cro – err Katerine correctly mentioned that it would hamper later marking efforts on a now very expensive map, so we decided not to.”

Katerine elbowed him. “They didn't need to know that, you dolt.”

I focused on the map while they argued.

The area colored in was large in square miles, but there were very few areas marked out from farther out than Shrewsberry – which I'd sort of expect, given the state of travel now. What was less than reassuring were the two small areas marked with a skull and crossbones. I doubted Johnny Depp had found some friends and set up shop, which meant they were marking danger. A third sported the same symbol, but I knew all about it – Georgetown.

“What about these spots?” Karl had noticed, and didn't hesitate; his finger was tapping the skull closest to him.

“Well, that one is the old quarry. It used to be an old coal mine but reconverted itself when everything else did. The only reason we know that is because of old maps; to date, only one scout sent into the area has returned, and he said he some really large people there… giants.

The other spot is the town of Normal, which isn't anymore.' he grinned, but the rest of us failed to laugh, so he stopped. 'A day after whatever happened, happened, the town was taken over by rioting orcs, who have been there ever since. Talks are currently ongoing to resolve the issue peacefully, but that's all I really know. We've been a little busy looking for the root cause, rather than dealing with symptoms.”

“Find anything interesting?” I'm an idiot; I shouldn't have interrupted. Sticks didn't seem to mind though, or even notice. His eyes were bright as he replied.

“No, although your own report does lead us into some interesting territory in that regard.”

Matt did it this time. “How so?”

“Well, Georgetown wasn't a ghost town in any sense of the word. Now it is. But it's more than that – according to the report that captain Sark gave us, you stated that time worked differently there, and at different locations within the town?”

“From what I observed, yes. It seemed too risky to stay and observe the process, but that is what I – what we all saw.”

“Right, well it's more than we had to go on. With that sort of phenomenon happening, it's not that big a stretch to say that whatever happened was dimensionally related.

Katerine snorted. “Says you. I think it's a large stretch, especially considering that we only have one incident to go on, and that only on the word of some people we don't know – no offense, dear.”

Dear, huh? “None taken.”

Sticks almost slapped her with a waving arm.

“But it's not just one incident! There are other reports, dozens, all stating the same kinds of things!”

“All even less substantiated than this one, and on a much smaller scale! We haven't proven anything with this!” Katerine fired back.

Clearly this was an argument they had argued before.

“But this is a fully substantiated report, witnessed and signed by several people, and investigated by our own troops!”

Katerine huffed and crossed her arms. “It's a start, is what it is. And that's all it is.”

Sir Surrat coughed again.

“So, Lady Muse. Do you have anything to add to your observations as reported to us?”

The implications of the event being some sort of time effect we all suffered were staggering; if these people had other reports, no matter how unsubstantiated they were, it didn't look good.

“Just that I'm not sure those ghosts there were ghosts, after all. At least now. If time was affecting them differently they probably died, but if it was another sort of dimensional interaction, then they might just be – trapped. And unable to do anything.”

Something which in my opinion was far more horrifying. Sticks broke that train of thought as it was leaving the station.

“You mean like the town and everything in it was out of phase, or similar?”

“That's exactly what I mean, but I don't see how it would work. It seems pinned to a locale, but if it's fixed then why doesn't it stay put when the Earth moves, or even move to another location? Having it fixed in one place, on one town, seems suspicious.”

Katerine shook her finger at us both. “It's all unfounded speculation, and that's enough of that.' She put a hand in Stick's face, forestalling his retort. 'I'm not saying you're wrong, I'm saying we don't have enough information to know, and it may be detrimental to pursue one avenue of thought when there might be others we never consider as a result.”

I actually agreed. “Another thing to consider is that what happened in Georgetown and other places, may be a symptom of something else related to the cause we're looking for but not related to the cause itself. It's not likely, but it's something we can't ignore.”

They both stared at me, mouths open. Salamander face-palmed in the background, muttering something I heard clearly: “Not another one.”

Sticks recovered first. “True, it wouldn't do to get ahead of ourselves. More expeditions will need to be sent, and our current ones informed of the possibility of more Georgetowns. Captain Sark, please send more runners.”

Salamander face palmed again, while Captain Howell paled.

“We cannot send any more runners; the last group we sent haven't returned yet. We simply don't have anyone to spare.”

That was a lie, I was sure of it. There were plenty of people around if you weren't paranoid. What did the guy in charge, this Duke Oher, think was going to happen? Was it Duke Oher? I was pretty sure Captain Sark had told me it was, at one point. At any rate, the man seemed a little too fixated on security.

I was pretty sure Captain Howell knew what I was thinking; he didn't call me on it though. Captain Sark went the table and snagged a drink; he was a very brave man, there were probably flies in it or something.

“So, Lady Muse, your report says you've seen dinosaurs and kobolds in your travels?”

I nodded. “Yes. The dinosaur actually attacked Solace. I don't mean to sound arrogant, but it was only quick spell-work that saved lives. In fact, if there are other towns that are not covered the way Solace was, troops should be dispatched to serve there.”

I wouldn't say Solace 'is' covered since I'm not there and I didn't trust the magical backup they had in my stead.

Sir Surrat coughed. “We do in fact have troops on their way, even to the borders of the kingdom, in order to protect the populace. Those that need the help, that is.”

And also to secure the borders against invasion no doubt. The lord here was definitely on the paranoid side. Whatever, it worked for us. The more people flooding areas, the more information we got. I wasn't even sure it was a bad thing.

“So, since we shared, mind if you return the favor, so we can do our due diligence?”

Katerine looked at me sourly, while Sticks just shook his head.

“The cribs notes version is we are just as lost as you are. No idea what happened or why, though it's beginning to look like it had something to do with time or other dimensions, somehow.”

“Well then, can I read your reports and dispatches? Would you mind?”

Captain Howell gestured expansively. “Not all all; be our guest.”

I took a seat and a stack of parchment… and then the Captain slapped down a much larger stack next to me with a grin. “I'd take it as a favor if you'd organize them by region, according to the map there.”

It was going to be a long night.