James dealing with Farmers

“You don’t have enough money sir.”

My mailed fist would have coiled in rage at that remark, if the concept was not entirely foreign to my ears.

Money.

Gold pieces.

Silverly bits of metal dug out of the ground and used as currency.

If I did not feel like tearing the farmers throat out for impeding my journey across the multiverse, I would have laughed at that remark.

Coins. An absolutely atrocious concept.

To think that humans, merely a Parsec over, would die to preserve their number, and yet, a short jump over, find more of our kind that would refuse to share their possessions due to a strange desire for shiny metal. One thing was shure. The multiverse was weird.

This sort of thing would have never happened back in Innistrad. Where our kind hid pathetically in huts away from the lycan, the vampire, and the fiery wrath of it’s once-worshiped savior. In such apocalyptic types, the only business is the business of the sword, and the currency spent is human lives, given either to the dark monsters outside, or the Blessed Sleep of nothingness. To think I once thought either was necessary for survival! Travel really does open one’s eyes.

Thats what I thought when I was born back in Kessig. My life was normal back then. I was a Parish-Blade of Avacyn. That was before she went crazy of course. And Dura and Oritar were still alive....

“Sir? The...coins?”

The farmers comments drew me out of my self pitty, as I looked over the man. And he looked back at me, with his brown eyes, and his blue trousers. He was well fed, and looked to be in perfect, or near perfect physical condition. And after my most recent Walk, I sadly, was in no condition to fight him. Not that I wished to anyway. This realm was bountiful. Light shown down from the sky. People walked about without worrying that a necro-alchemist might kidnap them, and inject them with poison, and other chemicals. The only thing missing was brightly colored ponies everywhere.

“Look buddy, 100g is 100g. I can hold this doohickey for you for now it if you need to find the coin, but I cant hold it forever.”

Money. Coins. That time it made me laugh. ‘Tis was foreign concept to my mind.

“You may do so, farmer.” I decided to respond to him.

“For I will be back shortly with the metal that you request.”

The expression on his face told me all I needed to know of his motives. I would have my device back. And I would make it off this strange, interdimeitinal pit stop. And back towards my true destination.

Golarion.