The warmth of the festival lingered into the next day, but not all shared the cheer. My growing reputation—and Glowbug’s healing abilities—had drawn both admiration and suspicion. As I carried a basket of fresh linens through the village from the washerwoman, I heard the low murmur of voices behind me.
“That beast came because of her,” a man sharply accused. “Mark my words—she’s a curse on the village.”
My steps faltered, my grip tightening on the basket as the hairs pricked up on the back of my neck. I turned to see a small group of villagers gathered near the well, their gazes heavy with distrust. “I didn’t bring the Ulvenworg,” I said, my voice shaking but resolute. “I killed it. If I hadn’t, who knows what it would have done?”
“And how do we know it wasn’t after you in the first place?” another villager demanded. “You came from the forest, didn’t you? Who knows what you brought with you?”
The accusation stung, but I stood my ground. “I didn’t ask to be here,” I said, my voice steadying. “But I’ve done everything I can to help. Glowbug healed your children, your families. If you want to blame me, fine. But don’t ignore what I’ve done to help this village.”
My words left a tense silence in their wake. Torrin’s voice broke it as he stepped forward, his presence commanding. “She’s right,” he said, his tone firm. “Harriet’s done more for this village in weeks than some have in years, and if any of you’ve a problem with her, you’ve a problem with me.” The villagers exchanged uncertain glances, their hostility waning in the face of Torrin’s support. My heart pounded, but I met their gazes without flinching.
As the tavern grew busier, with villagers trickling in for a late supper or a drink after a long day, I moved between tables with practiced care, my confidence growing with each tray I carried. Glowbug remained tucked close to me, its light dimmed to avoid drawing too much attention.
Larkin, one of the regulars, called out as I passed his table. “Hattie! Bring us another round, will you? And don’t let Garret water it down this time.”
Garret, overhearing, growled from behind the bar. “Or maybe you can pay your tab, you scoundrel.”
The room erupted in laughter, and I couldn’t help but smile as I delivered the drinks. Throughout the evening, I found myself lingering near Torrin’s table. The roguish adventurer sipped his drink, his sharp eyes scanning the room as though cataloging every detail. He caught my gaze and raised an eyebrow.
“Something on your mind?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No, just… thinking.”
Torrin leaned back in his chair, his expression softening. “You’ve had a rough start, no doubt about it. But you’ve got grit, Harriet. More than most.”
“Thanks,” I said, my cheeks warming as I returned to my tasks.
“Just remember,” Torrin said, “grit alone won’t keep you alive out there. Learn what you can, trust the right people, and don’t be afraid to take risks.”
I nodded, tucking his advice away for later. As the evening wound down, I returned to the kitchen to help Bertha clean up. The sounds of the tavern faded into a comfortable hum, mirrored by the contented purring of the Lumora sleeping up in the rafters.
The glow of the hearth bathed the tavern’s common room in flickering light and the last of the patrons trickled out into the cool night. The door closed with a low creak, and I exhaled a long breath, grateful for the quiet. My hands still smelled faintly of soap from scrubbing tankards, but the ache in my arms was a comfort—a reminder of work well done.
“Well, lass, you’ve been staring at the fire like it’s got answers to all your problems,” Bertha said, lowering herself into the chair across from me. She held a steaming cup of tea, her sharp eyes studying me. “Spit it out. What’s weighing on you?”
I hesitated, my fingers tightening around my own cup. The decision I’d been avoiding pressed heavy on my chest. “It’s the system,” I admitted. “I unlocked a class choice.”
Bertha’s gaze sharpened, and a knowing smile tugged at her lips. “Ah, I thought as much. Killing that Ulvenworg was bound to give you enough experience to get you to Level one.”
Torrin appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, leaning casually against the frame. I had thought all the customers had already left, but clearly I was wrong. “Class choice, huh? Big step,” he said, his tone unreadable. He walked over and pulled out a chair, sitting down beside us. “So, what’s got you stuck?”
I sighed, setting my teacup down. “I don’t know what to pick. There are so many options, what if I choose wrong? It feels like it could change everything. How do people usually pick?”
“Depends on their situation.” Bertha shrugged. “Some don’t even have a choice until they get to Level five. You know, folks who inherited a Class from a parent. That’s a double-edged sword, they get the benefits of a Class before anyone usually would, but then they don’t get to make a choice for themselves right away. As for your decision, well, first of all, there’s no such thing as a ‘wrong’ choice. Classes are tools, Hattie. It’s about picking the one that suits your needs right now. What are your options?”
“Apprentice, Explorer, Novice Fighter, Novice Healer, and Survivor,” I listed, trying to keep the shakiness out of my voice.
Torrin nodded thoughtfully. “Solid lineup. Let’s break it down.”
Bertha leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “Alright, here’s the gist. Fighters are for combat. Good if you’re planning to protect yourself or others. You’ve already got the guts for it, considering how you took on that Ulvenworg. But if the thought of swinging a weapon every day makes you shudder, maybe it’s not your path.”
I nodded, the memory of the fight flashing through my mind. “I only picked up that axe because I had to. It didn’t feel… like me.”
“Fair enough,” Torrin said. “What about Healer? Fits with your pet’s abilities. You’ve already used it to help people here.”
“That’s part of the problem,” I admitted. “If I become a Healer, people will expect me to fix everything. What if I can’t? What if I make a mistake?”
Bertha’s gaze softened. “There’s always a risk with responsibility. But the good you can do often outweighs the fear. Still, it’s not a decision to rush.”
Torrin leaned back, crossing his arms. “Explorer, then? You might have a taste for adventure. Seeing what’s beyond Eldston, discovering the world?”
I hesitated. “It’s tempting, but I don’t even know where to start. My map only updates where I’ve been, and the rest is just… black fog.”
“That’s the point,” Torrin said with a faint smile. “Explorers fill in the fog. But it’s not for everyone. A lot of wandering, not much stability.”
Bertha chimed in. “Then there’s Survivor. Practical. Keeps you alive. It’s about self-reliance, adapting to tough situations. You’ve been surviving since you got here, so it’s already familiar territory.”
“I’ve considered it,” I admitted. “It does seem like a practical choice, considering the things I’ve already been through. But I’m not sure it’s the right choice for me right now.”
“Which leaves Apprentice,” Bertha said, her eyes twinkling. “It doesn’t give you much right away, but it’s flexible. Makes it easier to learn new Talents, pick up professions, and even unlock additional Classes later. It’s for people who want to grow and aren’t afraid of a slow start.”
Torrin nodded. “She’s right. Apprentice is about long-term potential. If you’re patient, it can lead to just about anything.”
I glanced at him, curious. “Do you have Apprentice?”
He shook his head. “No, but I’ve got Survivor. Picked it up a long time ago. It’s simple but effective. It unlocks Basic Survival Instincts, Basic Tracking, or Basic Sneak. If you already have one of those, it upgrades to Intermediate. Saved my skin more times than I can count.”
“Which did you pick?” I asked.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“Sneak,” Torrin said with a grin. “Needed to move unseen, and it worked like a charm. Still does.”
Bertha chuckled. “And I’ve got Apprentice. Took it when I was young, scrappy, and full of ambition. It let me learn all sorts of Talents quicker than I would have without the Class—swordplay, archery, crafting, field medicine. Adventuring parties loved having me around because I could do a bit of everything.”
I stared at her, surprised. “You were an adventurer?”
Bertha grinned. “Not many guess it now, but aye. Spent years on the road, chasing glory and coin. The Adventurer’s Company handled contracts and kept us from getting cheated. It was a good life… most of the time.” Her gaze turned wistful. “But I gave it up when I met Garret. He’s the reason I’m here instead of out there.”
Torrin cleared his throat, drawing my attention back to the present. “So, about leveling,” he said. “You’ll need to know how it works if you’re going to make the most of your Class.”
Bertha nodded. “Your experience tracker updates every time you Level. It’s one hundred experience from Level 0 to Level 1, a hundred again from Level 1 to 2, then two hundred for Level 3, three hundred for Level 4, and so on. The experience needed each time after the second Level is the amount you needed for the two previous levels added together, so progress slows down the higher you go.”
“And additional Classes?” I asked.
“After Level one, you can choose to either unlock additional Classes or improve your current Class at Levels that end in five or zero,” Bertha explained. “You’ll need open slots on your Status sheet and to meet the prerequisites for the Class you want. Most people stick to improving their first Class for a while before branching out. Keeps things manageable.”
Torrin leaned forward. “But here’s the catch: You only gain experience from battle. Triumphs in combat. If you’re not planning to fight regularly, you won’t Level quickly, and additional Classes won’t matter as much.”
I absorbed their words, my mind spinning. “So, it’s about balance. Picking a Class that fits where I am now, but also thinking about where I want to go.”
“Exactly,” Bertha said with a smile. “And remember, Hattie, you’re not alone in this. You’ve got friends to back you up, whatever you decide.”
The fire crackled, its warmth a comfort against the weight of the decision. Glowbug hummed softly on my shoulder, its light flickering like a heartbeat. Finally, I exhaled and looked up at them. “Apprentice,” I said firmly. “That’s my choice. It feels right.”
Bertha’s smile widened. “Good choice! You’ll do well, and I can give you some tips too.”
Torrin raised his mug in a silent toast. “To new beginnings.”
Class Accepted: Apprentice
Talent prerequisites moderately reduced.
Class and Profession prerequisites slightly reduced.
“Thank you, Torrin, Bertha,” I said sincerely. “You really helped me out.”
“Anytime,” Torrin replied. “I still owe you for what you did. Anything I can ever do for you, you just go ahead and ask.”
Bertha said with a sly smile. “You chose well. Apprentice suits you, and for all that it’s humble, it’s actually a very useful Class.”
Garret, calling through the kitchen door, said with a chuckle, “Don’t let her flatter you too much, girl. She’s only saying that because she’s got that Class herself!”
“Don’t listen to him,” Bertha said, swatting in his general direction with a dish towel. “He’d rather eat his own boots than give a compliment.”
I laughed, the tension in my chest easing a little. “Thanks, Bertha. I’ll do my best to live up to your example.”
“That’s all anyone can ask,” Bertha said with a twinkle in her eye.
Days turned to weeks, and I felt more and more that Eldston had become something like a home for me. The people here were friendly, and many of them were thrilled to hear that I had picked up the Apprentice Class, some even offering to teach me some of the Talents that they specialised in. The extra work kept me busy, stopped me from thinking about how and why I had been brought to this strange place, and gave me practical things to aim for instead.
Bertha was a wealth of information with me taking my first steps as an Apprentice. She had me cooking, cleaning, mending clothes, and trying anything that might unlock a Talent for me. She encouraged me to ask everyone and anyone to help me to make use of my new Class.
Within the weeks that followed getting the Apprentice Class, I had gained Basic Cooking, Basic Housekeeping, and Basic Mending from practicing under Bertha’s tutelage, and Basic Archery and Basic Sneak from Torrin. Old Garret had offered to teach me Basic Brewing but said that he wouldn’t be brewing anything until after the next harvest came in, which would be about a month off, and I ended up filling the slot with something else.
My hands were deep in a bucket of sudsy water, scrubbing a set of plates from the dinner rush, my knuckles raw from the repetitive motion. Bertha sat nearby, her needle and thread working deftly to patch an old apron. She glanced up at me now and then, her sharp eyes both warm and watchful.
“You’re getting the hang of it,” she said, nodding at the stack of clean plates. “Not bad for someone who’s clearly had a rough start.”
I bit back a wry smile. “Guess I’m learning as I go. Better than sitting around and thinking about… everything else.”
Bertha’s fingers stilled for a moment on the apron, her gaze flicking to the fire. She didn’t press, which I appreciated. Instead, she leaned back in her chair, her needlework resting on her lap, and let out a long sigh. “Funny, isn’t it? The way life turns out.”
I tilted my head, rinsing another plate. “How do you mean?”
She chuckled softly, a sound like gravel rolling under a cart. “Most people in this village think I’ve always been Bertha from the Worn Hearth. They see me bustling around here, barking orders at Garret, cooking stew, and think that’s all there is to me. But now you know that I wasn’t always tied to this place.”
Setting the last plate on the drying rack, I wiped my hands on my apron and sat on the edge of the nearest chair. I nodded, setting the last plate on the drying rack. “You were an adventurer. I… didn’t expect that. Not that you couldn’t be, but… it’s hard to imagine you anywhere but here.”
Bertha’s laugh was soft but genuine. “I hear that a lot. I suppose I’ve put down roots so deep they’ve tangled around my boots. But it wasn’t always like this. I was restless back then, always chasing contracts and coin. Never thought I’d stop running, let alone settle down.”
Her grin widened. “As you know, my first class was Apprentice. Useful enough to any party in need of a jack-of-all-trades, but I didn’t stay in that role for long. There’s only so much hauling supplies and patching tents a person can do before they start picking up real skills.”
Her hands mimed the actions of shooting a bow, wielding a sword, and crafting something delicate, the movements fluid despite her age. “Adventuring parties liked having me around. I learned quick—basic swordplay, bowmanship, field medicine, lockpicking. You name it, I probably had a Talent for it.”
“Sounds like you’d be in high demand,” I said, leaning forward.
“Oh, I was,” she replied, her tone carrying a hint of pride. “It was a good life… most of the time. Plenty of danger, sure, but also plenty of coin. The Adventurer’s Company made sure of that. Ever heard of them?”
I shook my head. “No, but it sounds important.”
“It is,” Bertha said, her voice taking on a teacherly tone. “The Company’s an organization that handles the administrative mess that comes with adventuring—contracts, bounties, equipment requisitions. They’re also the ones who ensure we don’t get cheated by unscrupulous clients. Adventurers focus on the work and getting stronger, while the Company handles the rest. Saved me plenty of headaches.”
I nodded, imagining the logistics of such a system. It made sense. “So why did you stop?”
Bertha’s smile softened, and she leaned back, her eyes misting over. “Garret.”
“Your husband?”
She nodded, her fingers resuming their work on the apron. “Met him on a quest. My party had taken a contract to hunt a Shadow Ghast in the cursed forest—a nasty piece of work—glowing red eyes that saw right through you, and too many limbs to make sense of.”
I shuddered, knowing all too well what a Shadow Ghast was like, and felt all the more thankful that I had managed to evade the thing.
“It moved fast, all claws and snapping teeth. One wrong step, and it’d tear you apart. It’s the kind of creature that’ll get you if you’re not careful, and I wasn’t careful enough. It got me in the leg, tore me up good. My party dragged me back to Eldston, half-dead and delirious. That’s where I met Garret.”
Her smile grew wistful, her needle pausing mid-stitch. “We weren’t much older than you back then. He was broad-shouldered, quick with a joke, and annoyingly persistent. He kept showing up at the healer’s hut, bringing me soup, telling me stories about the village. Before I knew it, I was in love.”
I tried to picture Bertha as a younger woman, fierce and adventurous, falling for the affable Garret. It wasn’t as hard as I’d expected. “So you decided to stay?”
“Took me a while to admit it,” she admitted, her laughter soft. “Retiring wasn’t easy. I’d spent years on the road, chasing glory and coin. But Garret was worth it. He grounded me, gave me a reason to stop running. We built this place together, brick by brick, and I’ve never regretted it.”
The tavern door creaked open, and Garret himself appeared, wiping his hands on a rag. “You telling her about the time you got yourself half-eaten by a Shadow Ghast?” he asked, his grin mischievous.
“Don’t make it sound worse than it was,” Bertha shot back, though her eyes sparkled. “Or I’ll tell her the part where you fainted when you saw the stitches.”
“Fainted? Never happened,” Garret said, winking at me. “But I suppose I’ll admit that she’s where our boy got all his strength. My wonderful warrior wife.”
Bertha smirked. “And his good looks? That’s me, too.”
Garret shrugged. “Fine, fine. I’ll take credit for his sense of humor.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, the sound mingling with the pop and hiss of the fire. Bertha reached for her needle and thread again, while Garret, still grinning, leaned against the counter. Plates clinked softly in the kitchen as someone moved about, and the steady hum of the tavern wrapped around us like a well-worn quilt.
Name: Harriet Price
Age: 24
Type: Human (Level 1)
Titles(0/1): None
Classes(1/1): Apprentice
Professions(0/1): None
Talents(10/10): Basic Archery, Basic Crafting, Basic Cooking, Basic Endurance, Basic Housekeeping,
Basic Identify, Basic Mending, Basic Survival Instincts, Basic Sneak, Sense Magic
Condition: Normal
Attributes:
Vitality: 58/58
Physical: 15
Mental: 16
Social: 10
Luck: 10
Experience: 60/100