The road from Oreton traced a path across the marshy ground of Velen. Timothy didn't try sprinting his way to the inn. He opted to walk on the edge of the road nearest to the forest. Along the way he opened the pouch full of coins he'd looted from before. Most of the currency seemed to be dented and chipped chunks of bronze. Hardly anything could be recognized on them.

Still better than bottle caps thought Tim as he idly ran his fingers over the odd bits of currency.

Don't know why...maybe it just feels better on the sk-

"Fuck!" winced Tim as he jerked his hand away from the pouch.

He shook his free hand through the air like he had just seared it on a stove top. Looking down at it he saw that the tips of his fingers had turned cherry pie red.

It felt like something had just seared them.

Tim looked down into the bag but didn't see anything funny about it.

Is that...

Tim almost didn't want to think the word. He would feel stupid if he ever even began to consider it. Yet there it was, hanging in the back of his mind.

Magic

No...it's...it's got to be radioactive...or poisoned...somehow.

Tim flipped the bag over and dumped out the contents. A handful of the chipped coins spilled onto the ground, then a second later a larger coin, previously caught in the bag fell out as well. It fell onto the pile of bronze coins with an audible clink. Along with a light, but still resonating ring. Like the other coins it's edges were chipped, one side even seemed to have been deliberately cut off. It had a dark grey patina and the more distinct print of some monarch's head on it.

Silver...huh.

Tim looked at it for a second before tapping it with the tip of his boot. Nothing happened, he went down to pick it up. The moment his finger tips touched it he jerked them back again in pain. Tim looked at the irritated skin on his fingers then back to the coin. He desperately wanted to use the Geiger counter on his Pip Boy to examine the strange hunk of metal, especially since now he was a little weary of carrying such a thing in his possession. All the same, it wasn't a good policy to leave perfectly good money lying in the dirt. Tim brushed all the other coins into the bag before grabbing a fresh leaf off of the ground. Using it as a sort of napkin Timothy picked it up. It seemed that as long as it didn't make direct contact with his skin, he wouldn't be harmed by it.
Holding the coin a little closer to his face Tim studied it, trying to spot anything odd. In the end he didn't. There was just nothing remarkable about the coin. Nothing that he could tell at the moment anyway.
Lacking pockets Tim wrapped the coin up in the leaf before dropping it back into the bag.

Tim continued walking after that, and once again his mind began to drift.

A leaf, now that's something you don't see every day...at least back home it wasn't.

Tim stopped walking for a second, then immediately got back to it again. At that point he had officially come to terms with the idea that he wasn't anywhere near California, Nevada or anywhere else in the world-as-he-knew-it.
That was just it. He had no idea what the "it" was. No clue where he was.

Well...that isn't entirely true. Thought Tim.

I'm on my way to T'INN AT THE CROSSROADS m'lord.

"Forsooth my lord! Just travel down the road to ye olde tavern or whatever the fuck is here. Just be weary of the dragons and black knights and fuck'n indoor plumbing." said Tim aloud.

Shoulda watched out for fry faced scientists who strap you to chairs, pull nails and try to mindfuck you with some weird ass tubes stuck in your nose.

Tim shuddered at the memory of that.

I'd like to say that I'll find that bastard and kill him, but right now I'll just settle with making sure that he doesn't find me. Vilgefortz...I'll never be able to forget that name.

The sudden crack of a branch caused Tim to immediately grip his sword and turn around. His head jerked left and right while his eyes caught anything and everything that passed before them. In this case a foot sticking out from the corner of a tree around eighty feet away.

Tim focused on the foot while waiting for another noise. The foot stayed put and showed no sign of stepping back. Tim took his hand off of the sword and then cupped both of them to his mouth.

"You behind the tree, yeah you! Come out before I have to come over there and get ya!"

There was a few more seconds of silence after that. Then a skinny looking boy slowly slid into sight, both hands in the air and a terrified expression on his face. Tim recognized him on the spot.

"Hey...you're the kid from the wagon...back in Oreton?"

The "kid" opened his mouth, licked some very dry looking lips then finally managed to reply.

"I-I am sir." he said in a poor attempt at sounding nonplussed.

"You have a name?"

"Franz" replied Franz in a voice that Tim guessed had only just passed puberty.

"Alright Franz. What are you...like 14 years ol-"

"Sixteen" cut in Franz with a bit more strength and enthusiasm.

"Ah...Franz the sixteen year old cart driver who ferries soldiers into villages and stalks strangers through the woods."

Franz bit his lip at the sound of that.

"I'm not stalking ya...and t'wasnt my fault, I didn't ask to take them back home. T-they made me." Franz choked while shuddering a little.

Tim stared at shuddering Franz and decided to not bother tormenting the boy any longer.

"Alright, I was just messing with you. You don't need to cry..."

"I'm not goddamned crying!" shouted back Franz. Desperately blinking back tears forming up in the corner of his eyes.

"I'll take your word on that." mumbled Tim before he called back to Franz. "Come over here for fuck's sake. I'm not gonna kill you."

Franz didn't move at all. He just continued to stare Tim down with an uncertain gaze.

Tim stared back for a second before turning around. He continued walking as he had been before, but over his shoulder he called back to Franz.

"If you want to follow from back there, then go ahead. I'll even pretend I don't see you. How's about that?"

Franz stood still for a second. His face turned a little red, and in a flash he took off after Timothy.

"Wait a second! Hey, I'm coming!"

Tim slowed down a bit and waited for the flustered Franz to catch up with him.

When Franz caught up Tim was finally able to get a good look at him. The kid had a shock of blonde hair and a pair of blue eyes set on a bruised and bloodied face.

"What the hell happened to you? You get your ass beat before catching up with me?" queried Tim.

"Yeah, the whole village got a piece of me. Would've lynched me to if they could've."

"But they didn't."

"Nuh, managed to run off before that." said Franz with a bit of pride behind the words.

"You seem fairly fine despite all of that." commented Tim.

"I'm used to it at this point." said Franz.

"They tossed me to the boys over at Crow's Perch. I didn't volunteer for that job. Nonuvus did. But I was...available. And no one else wanted to volunteer their sons for work around those cutthroats. Funny though, the cutthroats come back to slaughter them and who do they immediately blame? Me, the kid they volunteered for the bloody job."

Tim and Franz started walking again after that. For a moment they didn't speak, then Tim opened the conversation back up.

"You always this...matter of fact?"

"I just kinda picked it up this past year."

"Because of the cutthroats?"

"Because of bloody everything."

"Fair."

"And what about you, with your fancy sword moves. Where'd you pick them up...Witcher School?" Franz asked matter of factly.

"What school?"

"Sorry, did I say it wrong? Witchmen...Witch...hunters?"

"I don't follow."

"Monster hunters! Whatever you are, do they teach ya that stuff in your guild?" Franz asked with a little impatience showing from his voice.

"Are there...monsters out here?" asked Tim half skeptic and half interested.

"As of late...yeah. The war's brought'em out." replied Franz.

"No shit?" quipped Tim.

The two walked on in silence for a bit longer before Franz popped another question.

"So...you're not one of them...not a Witcher?"

"I don't even know what that is." replied Tim.

"I'm a courier." continued Tim in a slightly amused voice.

Franz stared at his new companion with an expression of annoyance. "You said you were done playing games." he half growled.

"I am done, and I am serious." replied Tim.

"I am officially a courier for the Mojave express. Granted I haven't delivered any mail for the past nine and a half years, but no one really got around to firing me...so I'm still a courier."

Franz gave Timothy a look of confusion and annoyance. He just wanted a straight answer, and as usual he was getting the run around instead.

Timothy caught the look and decided to try and change tactics.

"I think that it's getting kinda late...I can make a fire or something. Would you happen to know if anything is edible around here?"

Alright, I'll be the first one to admit it...I took a long time to update this...and this isn't even a long chapter. I really did think that I was going to have a good worth ethic. That I was going to update once per month and write no less than 4,000 words per update. Naturally that plan has gone to shit...but at least I can come clean about it.
Anyway I am certainly going to try and pump out a decent chapter by July. It'll be longer than this and not cut off. I have a few ideas for how it's going to go down, but I'm open to suggestion. If anyone wants to PM me some story beats or character ideas then I'm all for it. Trust me I can use all the help I can get.