A short distance past where the web ends is a stone pillar, about the height of a mailbox. It's covered foreign symbols, and characters. It emits a near imperceptible hum. Using my cybernetic hearing, I start picking up whispers in an unknown language. At the same time the hum becomes quieter to my normal hearing.

   Its an artifact. An item with twisted natural laws as a result of foreign dimensions connecting to one another. Usually they’re just items from other realms that haven't become subject to the laws of the universe they’re now in. However regardless of where they come from, artifacts are dangerous and powerful items. As their effects are impossible to know till they're used or held. I've had a few artifacts, but only two I could use without suffering many negative effects. The two ‘usable’ ones caused headaches, or bleeding from every orifice. The first when held gave a bird eyes view of the surrounding area, the other summoned forth plants not that they could be controlled. Good way to get food when the right plants grew though.

   One of the other artifacts I had but didn’t use was a dagger that would make a person deadly silent, but at the cost of their sanity as the blade would give the user increasingly worse schizophrenia as the power was used. This of course always led to creating a madman who could kill without a sound. I had to put down the woman that had been using it. She’d slaughtered an entire survivor camp under the blades influence. Dangerous and unpredictable objects,

   My worries of such dangers posed by artifacts has caused me to unconsciously back away from the stone. Glancing at it, I move further away and continue following the path.

   As my footsteps trail a long passage, the sun sets. My night vision engages, for this night is an exceptionally dark one. The moon is but the tiniest sliver. Since passing the engraved stone pillar the noises of the forest have decreased. The path reaches a bend, and the trees ahead become sparse. moving further, the way lets up into a clearing that has a simple wooden fence surrounding some cornfields. Past the fields is a simple house that looks old, not in the sense of being around for a long time, but rather in the manner it has been built.

   The condition of this corn, it indicates there are people living here. Which seems like quite a poor choice since that Red Skin hunting party passed so close to here, and the only defense I can see is the wooden fence. Unless they have anti-personnel mines. I doubt it though as minefields are a pain to live around, and everything else that is here looks low tech. However I should still keep my guard up, as it could be a ploy trick invaders.

   Carefully examining the area for traps, the flicker of a candle light catches my attention. Through one of the houses windows, which barely befits the name as lacks glass and is but a wooden grate held up by a wedge. Which a hand illuminated by the candle light reaches out and grabs onto, pulling the wedge out. Having it's support removed the grate clatters shut.

   Did they notice my presence or are they just closing it for the night?

Drawing nearer to the house and leaving the path. I Listen closely, and can hear the breathing of two people.

   A feminine voice speaks, “set reked romel.”

   To which a male voice replies, “set soo romel set reked.”

   Waiting to see if they say anything else, or start moving around. I stay in place. After a few minutes I hear nothing, but their breathing. Which maintain a soft constant rhythm.

   Judging from the sound of it they've most likely fallen asleep. While I’ve done a good deal of breaking an entering, usually its not in homes where the owner is still alive.

   Returning to the path, more houses appear. Passing one I hear some movement. The sound comes from an outhouse with its door open and a child exiting it. A girl probably around seven years old, wearing old style clothing closes the door.

   With the appearance of all the things here I’m really starting to think I ended up in what ever the European equivalent of an Amish town is.

   Lowering myself as to not be spotted. I observe her head back into the house with only a candle light to guide her.

   If I recall children are one of the ways you can acquire a translator. They used to kidnap them from native tribes and keep them around and they'd learn to speak the language of their captors. On more perhaps generous occasions they'd do the reverse with children from they're own countries abandoning them with the tribes to learn the native's language. All because kids can learn other languages far easier than adults, and probably because childten didn't have many legal protections back then. Using such methods to learn the language wouldn't be possible for me. It would only lead to trouble to attempt it at the moment. Fortunately though there is likely other means for me to acquire knowledge, as where there is children there is usually someone teaching them.

   Scouting the area I find a good deal of other houses scattered about. There are five buildings that differ from the rest. Two of them seem related to processing the corn, and one is a higher quality house that is larger in size than the surrounding ones. Its the last two are of greater interest though. One presenting itself as a church or little school from how it has multiple chairs, a podium and even a desk in the corner, and importantly a shelf containing books. The last building to great surprise is a paper workshop. With the tools for processing plant pulp into paper. There is likely more materials hidden away inside.

   Now I just need to wait and see if they really do have someone teaching the kids how to read. If I can learn the characters I would be one step closer figuring out where the hell I am.