The wooden hall was a blur of noise and warmth, with villagers laughing, arguing, and clinking clay mugs. Jade's crew sat huddled at their corner table, picking at their stew and whispering about their next move. The ale helped, but not enough to dull the surreal weight of Yuzon's claim an hour ago.
The hall's door creaked open, and a tiny, hunched woman shuffled in, her face wrinkled like a walnut. She wore a patched shawl and clutched a gnarled cane, which she waved like a conductor's baton as she scanned the room. Her gaze locked onto Mataranas, who was mid-slurp, stew dribbling down his chin.
"Matty!" she squawked, her voice cutting through the hall's din like a knife. She hobbled over at a speed that defied her age. "My boy, you're alive! Oh, gods be praised, you're not skewered!"
Mataranas froze, his spoon hovering. "Uh… hi?" he managed, as the old woman reached him and started patting his arms, face, and chest like he was a lost puppy. Her hands moved with frantic energy, checking for wounds.
"No cuts? No bruises? Those filthy bandits didn't get you, did they?" she said, her voice a mix of worry and scolding. She grabbed his face, squishing his cheeks. "You big ox, running off to fight like that! What would I do if my Matty got hurt?"
Jade and the others stared, jaws slack. Numerius snorted, barely containing a laugh. "Matty?" he whispered, nudging Nathaniel. "This is gold."
"Is that… your grandma?" Nathaniel asked, his eyes wide. "She's intense."
Mataranas, still pinned by the old woman's hands, looked like a deer caught in headlights. "I… guess?" he mumbled, his massive frame slumping under her fussing. "Ma'am, I'm fine, really."
"Fine, he says!" she huffed, finally stepping back but keeping one hand on his arm. "You're coming home, Matty. No more brawling tonight. You need rest, and I've got soup on the fire. Better than this slop." She shot a glare at the stew bowls, like they'd personally offended her.
"Home?" Mataranas echoed in confusion. He glanced at Jade, who gave a helpless shrug.
"Go with her, Mat," Jade said, keeping his voice low. "We'll catch up later. Might be a chance to learn something."
The old woman, Mat's supposed grandma, didn't wait for agreement. She tugged Mataranas's arm with surprising strength, dragging him toward the door. For a guy built like a linebacker, Mataranas didn't resist, stumbling after her like a kid caught sneaking cookies. "Don't stay out late, you lot!" she called back, pointing her cane at the group. "And keep my Matty out of trouble!" The door slammed shut behind them.
The table was quiet for a moment, the hall's chatter filling the void. Numerius broke the silence with a low whistle. "Matty's got a grandma. That's… wild. You think we've got families here too?"
Nathaniel's eyes widened, his spoon clattering into his bowl. "Oh, man. What if I've got, like, a mom here? Or a dad who's gonna whack me with a stick like Jade's?" He shuddered. "I'm not ready to be grounded in medieval times."
Yuzon leaned back, his sharp eyes narrowing. "If Mat has a grandma, it makes sense we'd have families too. The game's NPCs have backstories, right? If we're part of this world, we've probably got roles baked in, parents, siblings, maybe even jobs."
"Jobs?" Nathaniel groaned, slumping in his seat. "I'm not cut out for peasant life. I should be negotiating trade deals, not… harvesting wheat or fighting bandits with a stick."
"You were pretty good with that sickle," Numerius said, grinning. "Tripping that bandit was peak chaos. You're basically a rogue now."
Nathaniel glared.
Jade rubbed his temples, the weight of the day settling in. "Yuzon's right. If we've got families, that's a clue. We need to figure out who we are here first, what our characters are. Maybe it'll point us to a way out."
"Or we're stuck as NPCs forever," Nathaniel muttered, poking his stew. "Great. I'm gonna be the guy who dies in a tutorial quest."
Numerius glanced at the door where Mataranas had been dragged off. "You think my family is gonna be as intense as Mat's grandma? I'm picturing a clan of loudmouths like me."
Yuzon smirked, a rare crack in his serious face. "That tracks. I'm more worried about what my family expects. If I'm a peasant, fine, but what if I'm, like, a scholar? I'd rather not get stuck copying scrolls all day."
The group finished their meal in uneasy silence, the reality of their situation sinking in. The villagers around them seemed oblivious, chatting about crops and bandit raids like it was just another day. Jade paid for their meal with a few denars he found in his pocket, another weirdly real detail and they stepped out into the cool night air. The village was quiet now, lit by flickering torches and the soft glow of candlelit windows.
"Alright," Jade said, his breath visible in the chilly air. "Let's split up, find our homes, and meet back here at dawn. Ask questions, look for anything weird. If this is Bannerlord, there's gotta be a quest or something to move us forward."
"Or a game-breaking bug," Nathaniel said, half-joking. "Maybe we clip through a wall and wake up in 2035."
"Dream big," Numerius said, clapping Nathaniel's back. "I'm off to find my castle. Or, y'know, a shack."
They parted ways, each heading down different dirt paths, guided by vague instincts and the occasional villager's nod, like they all knew where the group belonged. Jade's "home" was a small stone house with a thatched roof, tucked behind the village well. He pushed open the creaky door, half-expecting Angry Dad to jump out with his stick. The house was empty, though, just a single room with a straw bed, a wobbly table, and a cold hearth. A few pots and a worn cloak hung on the wall, and Jade's rusty dagger seemed to fit right in.
He collapsed onto the bed, the straw crunching under him. His body ached from the fight and the fieldwork, and his mind was a mess of questions. Were they really in Calradia? Was this a dream? A glitch? He stared at the ceiling, its wooden beams cracked and weathered, and let out a long sigh. "This is nuts," he muttered.
As his eyes drifted shut, a faint hum filled the air, like static from a bad TV. He blinked, sitting up, and nearly fell off the bed. A glowing screen hovered in front of him, floating like something out of a sci-fi flick. Blue and translucent, it pulsed with a soft light, and words flashed across it: Synchronization Complete.
"What the—" Jade scrambled back, his heart pounding. The screen shifted, morphing into a familiar layout: the Bannerlord UI. His eyes widened as he saw his name at the top.
[Jade, Level 1 Peasant]
next to a stats window. Strength, Agility, Intelligence, all laid out like in the game. A skill tree branched off to the side, with points in One-Handed Weapons and Leadership faintly glowing, probably from his dagger flailing and keeping the group together. A quest log blinked in the corner, labeled Survive the Village Raid, marked as completed. Below it, a new quest: Seek the Village Elder.
Jade stared, his mouth dry. "No way," he whispered. He waved his hand through the screen, expecting it to vanish like a hologram, but it stayed solid, the text sharp and vivid. A small bar at the bottom showed Experience: 50/100 and a few denars in his inventory. It was the full Bannerlord interface, but floating in his face, not on a monitor.
"Okay, okay," he said, trying to calm his racing heart. "This is… a clue. Or a breakdown." He glanced around the empty room, half-expecting a villager to barge in and call him crazy. The screen stayed, unblinking, like it was waiting for him to make a move.