"Knowledge lead me home," he said, placing the coin back into the pouch with the other objects he was satisfied that its choice was as unbiased as he would get for now, though he hoped that when Zee came back online he could identify the planet he was on and with any luck find a nearby Combine consulate who would speed him on his way home.
Walking on the paved road proved only slightly easier than the forest path, as the spiked toes of his climbing boots forced him to set each foot down flat before him or risk the spikes catching in the asphalt and sending him flailing forward. With a grace and ease built up by dozens of years of training as well as personal experience Amadeus walked forward at a steady clip, and was surprised to find that he saw not one car or vehicle making its way down the road, though he felt that he should have as the road seemed very well used.
"Maybe it's some kind of holiday," he observed, thinking of reasons for traffic to stop. If it was indeed a holiday than he would have to be on his toes when he found a local, as holidays on most worlds tended to make any insult ten times worse than it usually was, causing the person insulted to tackle the insulter even if the insulter had no idea what he'd just said.
With that charming thought in mind Amadeus began to look around the highway for any light or other sign of the civilization which had built the roadway. Finding only darkness and woods he was feeling more and more that he should have taken the other path when he suddenly saw something that made him do a double take.
One of the trees suddenly blossomed with light out of what looked like a window. Not believing his eyes he rubbed them and then looked again. This time the tree was dark, and he could no longer make out a window of any kind. Believing that he might be seeing thing he began to walk on when two light came on, this time clearly outlining bipedal humanoid forms in their glow, which was soft like the light shed by a fire.
"Candles?" he asked himself questioningly, not knowing why a culture that had roads would be using candles for a light source at night. Shaking off his feelings of unease he decided it was best not to question fortune's grace, and ran across the highway towards the tree which he now knew was a home to some form of intelligent life. Looking at the tree from the road he was surprised to find that no way lead to it, but as he moved off the road he realized that the tree had to be quite large, and thus was much farther away than it had appeared at first.
No stranger to work he closed the distance quite fast considering his footwear was designed for climbing mountains, and seemed to catch on every root or loose rock that stood between him and the tree. Still his headlong flight did not slow, as his goal was so close and he wanted to make contact with the locals as soon as possible. Coming up on the house's driveway he saw a sight that filled him with a sense of hope, a mailbox marked with strange letters.
Just as he slowed his run to a brisk walk and began going up the drive something clicked in his mind. The strange letters on the side of the mailbox, he could read them. For a moment he stood frozen to the spot, not sure what he was seeing, but turning back and running his fingers over the letters he recognized them as the old English alphabet, specifically spelling out the name Dewclaw.
"What the neutron?" he swore, making sure that he wasn't seeing things by raising his helmet and rubbing his eyes. Despite this the letters stayed the same, and he was forced to admit that he was looking at a language he knew, which should have been impossible. Shaking his head against the thoughts that threatened to overwhelm him he decided that for now making contact was important. He'd figure out the mailbox later.
Banishing the mailbox from his mind he fingered the collar around his neck, making sure that it felt warm and was active. The device felt pleasingly warm to his touch, showing that it was still functional and would translate any speech sent his way into something he could understand, while at the same time translating his speech into something the other person would be able to comprehend. Even if the letters of this world were in an old human language that didn't mean spoken speech was. Sighing he walked up the rest of the drive to the door of the house.
"Try not to seem like an outsider," he told himself, looking for a doorbell. Finding none he decided to knock with his mailed fist, which made a very nice boom as he struck the wooden door. Hoping that knocking really was a universal thing like his old xenopsyc teacher had told him he waited for a moment before the door opened up to reveal...
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