Chapter Five: Oh, I’m gonna say it one time: Alfie Thomason.

“Morning,” Gem whispered as I awoke. Beams of light showed through the cracks in the barn.

She kissed me on the lips. Not what I was expecting. I guess the Mercenary Guild hadn’t gotten the memo from HR about boundaries. I gasped and my stomach gave a little leap. Oh boy.

I was overwhelmed by her scent as she leaned in over me. And yes, it was a little stale from being on the road, but it was also sweet and feminine, and there was a little of that animal musk that made me blink a little when I breathed it in.

She had a little morning breath, unfortunately. I made a quick mental note to check my starter kit for a toothbrush.

“Good morning.” I smiled at her. I leaned up and stretched. My weird, tiny body popped and cracked as any would after waking. “What time is it?” I said with a yawn.

“Don’t know,” Gem sat up. “Jinx did say you rifters were obsessed with time.”

“No clocks here?”

“We don’t use them. Not much point unless you have someplace to be.”

She smiled and got up, equipping her leather armor and boots. I admired her figure in the form-fitting gear and especially enjoyed the view from behind. Her tail swayed lazily as she turned around.

I found myself doing that with her and Kev. My new eyes did enjoy the look of a nice body.

“So, what are we doing today?”

“We are heading toward Wood Cut. It’s the village a half a day into the woods.” She helped me to my feet. “We’re gonna get resupplied, pick up a couple of quests, and hopefully a bath.”

“Are we going to return that axe at some point?”

“Yeah,” Gem said. “Any Guildhall will accept it and pay out the reward, but I don’t think Wood Cut is big enough to have one.”

“Can’t we just keep it?”

“You saw what that thing’s like,” Gem said. “It’s enormously powerful; a zero-level person like you managed to kill one and a half orcs with it without breaking a sweat. It’s a family heirloom that a very rich dwarven family want back.”

“You know I would have killed that second orc without your help.”

She winked at me. “Well, we’ll never know for sure, will we?”

“I don’t suppose we could just ditch the reward and sell it?”

“Nobody would buy it. And it’s way too hot to fence. Besides, none of us are rogues anyway.”

“Um, kind of am.”

“No shit?” she said, a look of surprise.

“Level one,” I said with what I hoped was a dashing grin. I equipped my own armor and boots; unlike the others, mine were dark brown, almost black. Better stealth, I guessed. I went on to equip my belt with Sick Stick.

“It seemed like a good class to start with. It plays to my strengths.”

“You have a null space?” Gem said, her eyes were wide.

“Yeah. You do too, right?”

“No, Most of us use devices.” Gem held up her hand, displaying a gold ring on her index finger. “They’re really expensive. Most of us have to save up for a couple of years before we can afford one. You’re lucky. She rubbed her ring with her finger. “And, of course, someone can steal it.”

“It’s a rifter thing, I guess. I got a couple of random bumps to get started; I got this and a starter kit.” I really wanted the pet monkey too. I almost added out loud.

Outside, the fire had mostly burned down to embers, but it still threw off plenty of heat. Kev had a skillet perched on top, with the sizzle of meat filling the air. Nearby, five plates sat on a blanket, each loaded with eggs and a slice of bread. Kev, the picture of rugged orcness, was shirtless and barefoot, his skin catching the morning light in a way that was hard not to admire.

Heather was by the cart, leaning on her staff with one hand and holding a small book open in the other. She didn’t even glance up as we walked out, clearly locked in an epic battle of ignoring everyone within a ten-foot radius. I decided not to take it personally.

Jinx, back in his trusty blue robe, grunted as he hauled bundles off the ground and loaded them into the cart. He looked like a magical pack mule, minus the enthusiasm.

“We want to add you to our party.” He gasped after dropping the last, pillow sized bag into the cart. “That way we can share experience and rewards.”

“What exactly are we doing?”

“We’re all here to gain experience,” Gem said. “We hit the outer villages in the county and pick up quests.”

“I’s a three-week tour.” Jinx said. “I gather up crews in Ironstone, then we 'ead out to nab some gold and XP.”

“We don’t go for anything too far over our levels,” Kev said. “Jinx has the expertise to help us find the right quests that are just challenging enough to help us gain without getting us killed.”

“For a cut,” Jinx said with a smile. “Part of which I am now sacrificing to bring you on.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll be sure to pull my weight.”

“Well, you showed us you can 'andle yourself, even if ya don't 'ave any experience. You moved on two orcs yesterday. One of which, ya didn't need to. That says somethin'.”

JINX HAS SENT YOU A PARTY INVITATION

DO YOU ACCEPT?

The words appeared in my vision, read to me by The Whisperer in her usual over the top enthusiasm. I was still trying to get used to having a different voice in my head.

I mentally accepted the invitation. A small line appeared at the bottom left of my vision: Party. Each member was listed underneath, along with the word Chat.

I mentally clicked on it and wondered. Can we chat with each other?

Jinx: Yes we can, love.

His voice echoed through my mind as the words appeared. And just like that, I was getting more voices echoing around inside my brain.

Regan: What’s the range on this?

Jinx: A ‘alf mile or so.

I shrugged and smiled. Cool stuff. Hands free, voice free texting was the stuff of legends from back home.

“I’m not healing her,” Heather called out to the group, bound and determined to kill the mood.

“The Hells you aren’t!” Kev bellowed as we all turned towards her.

She stood up straight, her staff at her side as she faced the orc. “You contracted with the temple to heal three mercenaries on this trip. I’m not healing a fourth.”

“We will pay the extra fee for the extra healing.”

“Sorry,” Heather said snobbishly, returning to her book like she forgot he was there. “I’m not authorized to negotiate on behalf of the temple or church.”

“You’re a piece.” Said Gem.

“I didn’t want to come in the first place, and rifters are problematic in the eyes of the church.”

“Bullshite,” Jinx said. “Amania don't 'ave a problem with rifters or anybody else.”

Heather held up her little book to the group. “All of those born to this world will know the grace of Amania. The penitent person that loses their way will know it again.” She tilted her head to the side and smiled at them. “Rifters aren’t born of this world.” Her words were laced with loathing. She went back to reading her book, a smug look on her face. “Not healing her.” She sang quietly.

“Nice.” I said. “It’s good to see some familiar shit from home here.”

“This isn’t over,” Kev said. “The church will hear about this.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “These purity types are usually the ones who get knocked up in tenth grade by some asshole that looks just like their daddy.”

“You can fuckin’ walk then,” Jinx growled, shoving the last bag into the cart with a scowl.

The meat was ready after a couple of moments, and Kev dished the plates. He and Gem handed them around. Heather took hers without looking up or acknowledging.

The meat was salty and tender, I mixed it with egg yolk and ate heartily. Then, I sopped the remaining juices with the bread and was soon full again. I pulled a cask of water from my inventory to rinse it down. Yuk! It tasted like a shoe. The others finished breakfast quickly and quietly since things were tense thanks to the Priestess of Purity.

Kev took the dishes, and they disappeared into his storage. Everyone started moving to gather up what was left, and Jinx cast a spell that quashed what was left of the fire.

“It’s too bad,” Kev said, pulling the barn door open. “This looked like a nice place.” He gazed at the field beyond.

“Apart from the orcs,” I said.

“Prairie Orcs don’t build huts and barns. They don’t keep animals.”

The realization hit me. “Oh...Oh shit.”

He looked down at me and smiled. “And before you ask, yes, I really am an orc. I’m from Uston, It’s way north of here. I’m the youngest son of a shipbuilder. Rather than go into the family business, I was given my inheritance and sent off to make my way.”

“You’re okay with that.?”

“I have two older brothers. They can fight over the business if they want.” He looked out, over the field and sighed. “I just wanted to see the world. I worked my way down to Ironstone, and met up with Jinx at the Guild, and here we are.”

“See much of it yet?”

“Some,” he smiled at me. “Enough to want more.”

The party climbed into the wagon after Jinx hitched it to the horses. In the back, the sacks he tossed in, and a pile of straw, made it dusty, but comfortable. The wagon had once been painted white, though most of that had long since chipped away. Kev took the reins, with Gem seated beside him on the bench. I hopped in next to Jinx, settling in. Heather walked behind, using her staff as a walking stick, and I noticed for the first time that she was barefoot.

“She’s really going to walk then?” I asked Jinx after we started rolling toward the road.

“She sures as 'ell is,” Jinx said. “It’s not in the bleedin' contract that we provide transportation, only that we feed and protect 'er. She’s not about to throw a fuss about it since she’s bein' a right cunt about it.”

We reached the road and turned left, away from the direction I was running in during my escape the day before.

“Tell me about the tour then.”

“We left Ironstone a week ago,” Jinx said, pulling a map out and unrolling it in front of me.

MAP ADDED:

GRAY ANVIL COUNTY

The notification appeared as I looked at the map, and the tiny map in the corner of my vision instantly updated with the information. Very fucking cool.

“We took the Imperial Highway southeast.” He pointed at the winding road south of the marked city. “Here's Gray Anvil Keep, where we picked up the quest for the axe. That was a day’s travel, since then, we’ve been followin' the highway, stoppin' by each ‘o the villages to look for quests or bounties.” He pointed at a part of the map, about halfway down. “Here’s where we are now, outside Wood Cut about 'alf a day or so. We’ll look for some work there, and then start 'eadin' west at the crossroads.”

“Imperial Highway?”

“We are in the Rawen Kingdom.” Jinx said “It’s a Dwarf kingdom, that’s why it 'as all these bleedin' weird names. Dwarfs like makin' stuff, so all the names sound like craftin' materials or tools.” He gestured at the road as we turned onto it. “This 'ere's one of the highways built by The Sovell Empire.”

“How big is the Sovell Empire?”

“We’re in what would be Europe back on Earth, love.” Jinx Said. “The Sovell Empire, it runs from Poland down to Albania or so. We're somewhere in Western Hungary. It's proper sizable, got about twenty kingdoms and nations.”

“So, what level are you?”

“Hmm,” Jinx said. “I'm level twenty, right? My Mage class, that's level ten. Got a Fire Wizard Job sitting at level six, and a Lightning Wizard job at level nine. Plus, I got an Alchemy Job.”

“I’m a rogue, level one.”

Jinx chuckled. “You won't be able to join the Mercenary Guild as a rogue, love. But that's alright. When we get to Ironstone, I'll steer you over to my mate. 'E'll help you train up proper.”

“Why don’t they allow rogues?”

“Most of the work the Guild does is straight forward,” He rolled up the map and put it away. “They’re also a bit old fashioned, and don’t go for the tactics that rogues use to get the job done.”

“I hope I didn’t pick wrong.”

“You didn't. We bring loads of rogues on quests; they just can't get one from the Guild is all. The Union’ll be givin' you jobs, and that's who we turn to add a one to our crew.”

“The Union?”

“Tha’s wat they call ‘emselves.”

As we rode on, Jinx talked about London in the nineties, and growing up in a rough neighborhood. He had an absentee father and alcoholic mother and was a school dropout before being pulled away at the age of nineteen. Now, he was a something called a Moon Elf.

“Yeah,” he said mournfully, running his hand over his bald head. “Used to play in a grunge band, back in the day. Had the most amazin’ mane o’ ’air, I did. But still, since I came here,” his mood picked up instantly. “I've made a bleedin' good life for meself, love. I put together crews and go out explorin' the countryside, earnin' a pile o’ gold in the process. Got a place in Ironstone, but I'll eventually move south, by the shore, and find a quiet village to settle down.”

“I’m not really coming from someplace, bad, or interesting.” I said. “Twenty-six years in, and zero sum.”

“Watcha mean?”

“I’m gone from Earth, and about all I left behind was a pile of laundry.”

“Copy tha’.” Jinx said bitterly. “I came this way thinkin' I was bleedin' dead, like I was struck by lightning or somethin'. But I didn't start livin' till I came to Nya.”

“It does feel like something like an afterlife.”

“Somthin’ like that.” Jinx’s face turned a little dark. “Nya’s ain’t no paradise though.”

“I suppose not, neither was Earth.”

“Yeah, but all the bleedin' crazy make-believe shite that you made up on Earth, 'ere it's real. There're monsters, demons, devils, and all kinds of nasties.” He looked at me, with intensity in his eyes. “There's all the war and genocide and all the rotten stuff Earth 'as too.”

“So why is this place so great?”

“Because unlike Earth, 'ere, people like you and me can rise. Little Regan Moon, the 'alf elf Rogue from Denver, and Jinx the Moon Elf Wizard from Hackney. No one’s gonna tell us what we can ‘r can’t do.” He gestured around us. “Every person 'ere 'as the potential for greatness. Most people born 'ere don't understand, but those of us who got pulled into this world get it.”

“I thought you wanted to settle down, someplace quiet by the sea.”

“Someday, love.” Jinx said, looking at the road in front of us. “I 'ave a lot more places to see first.”

The Imperial Highway shifted from rocky hills to the dense forest I’d thought about escaping into just the day before. By mid-afternoon, the banners of Wood Cut finally came into view. The wagon rattled its way over the White River via a rickety covered bridge that sounded one splinter away from disaster, before rolling to a stop in front of the gates.

Wood Cut was surrounded by a solid wooden wall, twelve to fifteen feet high and all business. The guardhouse outside was packed with dwarven men—stout, hairy, and built like walls themselves. They wore heavy plate armor, carried spears, and stern looks. Beneath their helmets and thick beards, their faces were broad and surprisingly expressive, as if someone had hit the “amplify emotions” button.

I realized they were about my height. give or take, but twice as wide, all muscle and raw physicality. And that’s when I felt… something. Their rugged strength, the thick arms, the unshakeable presence it was, well, appealing. Which was confusing. I wasn’t used to finding hairy, boulder-shaped dudes attractive. Yet, there was something about the way they carried themselves, all solid and grounded, that gently tugged down there. Like it was wanting to say something.

I wasn’t entirely sure how to voice it in my head. Was it admiration? Attraction? Intrigue? My thoughts kept swirling in awkward circles, unable to land on an answer. All I knew was that the sight of these dwarves stirred something in me I couldn’t quite pin down. That’s new. I thought.

“Oy there,” one of them said. “State yer business at Wood Cut, or be on yer way!” It was an accent that was maybe sort of Scottish. Not really sure, since I wasn’t much of an expert, but it was fun to listen to.

“Guild Mercenaries looking for trade, quests, and accommodations,” said Kev.

“There's no Guildhall here, mercenary. There is a board though in the inn if ye are lookin' for work, so I reckon you'll find some of wha’ ya need at the Iron Hammer. If you want tradin’, mind Kettlebottom’s he’ll rob ya blind. I’d go down ta Graybrow’s. Hetmat Graybrow, e’ll treat ya fair.”

“Iron Hammer it is then,” said Kev. He ushered the horses on with the click and snap of the reins. The guards stepped aside and waved him through. Heather the priestess followed the wagon with a sour look on her face. At least it seemed like a sour look. I wasn’t sure at this point or not if she didn’t look that way all the time.

Just inside the wooden walls of the town, the local stable was set up, with hands ready to take the reins from any visitor. A younger male dwarf, a teenager probably. Helped Gem the front bench as the party got out of the wagon. Another ran up and started unhitching the horses.

“Steady on,” Jinx said. Tossing what looked like a silver coin to the second teenager. “Feed ‘m and make sure our gear is looked after.”

“Aye,” the teenager said, catching the coin. “Will you be needing them the rest of the day?”

“’haps not.” Jinx said. “Point us to the Iron ‘ammer.”

“Up the stree’” the teen said. “ta the left.”

The party fell in line, Jinx and Kev leading the way, then Gem and myself, followed by Heather. The town was neat and tidy. Tall houses made of wood and steep shingle roofs with shutters lined the gravel street as we made our way up. Once we were past the gate and guards, I saw that the town was made up of more than dwarves. Elves were here, along with humans and other smaller races. I was dealing with a huge knowledge gap as to who was who.

It reminded me of an old German town with pretty trim and fancy bits around the windows and eaves. In the distance, beyond the streets was a large mill, smoke rising from a chimney about three stories high.

“Let me guess,” I said to Gem with a nod ahead. “Sawmill?”

“The town is called Wood Cut.” Gem replied softly. “And they’re dwarves, so yeah.”

“Not to creative with the names, are they?”

Gem giggled quietly. “Dwarves are some of the most industrious people in the Empire. But they don’t waste much energy naming things.”

The dimensions of the town were disorienting. The buildings were proportional to what I was used to, but as I got closer, I realized the doors and windows were lower, not by too much. The Dwarves were just a hair shorter than I was on average, but since they were the architects of the town, it was built to fit the comfort of its primary inhabitants, which suited me just fine. But if he wasn’t careful, Kev would be getting headaches.

“Here,” Gem said, pressing a small pouch into my hand.

“I don’t need any money.” I tried handing it back. I was already feeling somewhat indebted at this point, and didn’t like the idea of money getting involved.

“It’s about two GP worth of silver and copper. Use it to buy cheap stuff.”

“Oh,” I hooked it on my belt. “All I have is gold. I’ll pay you back later.”

We reached the Iron Hammer. The sign was, of course, literally a large iron hammer hanging over the door. Heather found a bench out front and sat down with her book. The rest of the party filed in, but I held back.

It was a busy street, but many of the passersby took notice of the priestess.

“Hey,” I said to Heather.

“What do you want?” She said, not looking up.

“Nothing, really. I just wanted to see if you’re all right.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you just walked half a day behind stinky horses and breathing in road dust. Come inside and have a drink.”

“If I wanted a drink, I would get one.”

“Bless your heart,” I said with a bitter smile and entered the Inn.

The Iron Hammer was everything I imagined a fantasy world inn would be. The dining room was dominated by four long communal tables in the center, flanked by smaller, party-sized tables scattered around the edges. Along the far wall stretched a long bar, with a doorway disappearing off to the left. Three tenders manned the bar while several dwarven waitresses, or were they called wenches here? bustled between tables, expertly navigating the midday crowd. The room looked to be around eighty percent capacity. At least, that was my best guess.

What hit me hardest, though, was the smell. It was a chaotic blend of stale beer, vinegar, cooking meat, and smoky firewood, all blended into an almost overwhelming aroma. A haze of smoke was up in the rafters, fed by the patrons' pipes. Spherical lanterns dangled from the cross beams on thin chains, casting the room in a soft golden light.

“Grab us a table.” Jinx said. He marched through the room towards the bar. The rest of us shuffled along the outskirts of the room before finding an empty table along the right-hand wall. I sat beside Gem while Kev claimed a seat facing the door.

The crowd was a mix of the same three races I saw outside, grouped in clusters or sitting alone. On the wall adjacent to the bar hung an enormous bulletin board, easily ten feet long, covered in paper notices.

As I sat, my phone instinctively slipped from storage into my right hand, hidden under the table. It took me a second to realize how pointless it was. Back home, my phone had been an extension of me, always within reach, always in use. I slept with it next to my bed, took it into the bathroom, and pulled it out automatically every time I sat down. But here? There was no one to text or call. TikTok was not around, nor was Instagram or anything else I used to keep my mind occupied. It was nothing more than a dead weight. An artifact.

I sighed, thinking back to the wagon ride earlier. I’d spent hours chatting with an elf from London, staring at the lazy sway of trees as the horses pulled us along. I’d felt the sun and shade shift across my skin, heard the wheels crunching against the dirt road, the rhythmic clopping of hooves. And not once had I thought to pull out my phone.

Back on Earth, everything was a blur of digital distractions. Phones connected us, sure, but they also built walls, isolating us in the middle of crowded rooms. They were like blinders, blocking the real world out while we stared at tiny screens. I sighed again, slipping the phone back into my inventory. I didn’t need it anymore.

My face burned as I glanced around. Nobody saw me with the strange device in my hand. I didn’t think it would be a good thing to try to explain to a room of otherworldly people.

“I’m not used to the pace here.” I said to no one in particular.

Gem raised her eyebrows at me. “What do you mean?”

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“Back home, we just rush everywhere. I was going on a six-hundred-mile trip, and it would have only taken me ninety minutes or so.”

“Wow. It must be nice.”

“Depends,” I sighed. “If you actually want to go to the place you're headed.”

“I suppose.”

“How safe is it to travel around here? I mean, the orcs were pretty terrifying, but we haven’t seen anything since then.”

“The highway is a safe place to journey,” Kev said. “The legion regularly patrols it, and the Mercenary Guild helps keep the monsters back.”

“You get off the Imperial Highway however,” Gem started. “It can get pretty dangerous. There’s bandits and raiders, and the wildlife can be a problem.”

“Good to know.”

“We’re sticking to the highway.” Kev said. “We don’t have a strong enough party to rough it.”

“Good day, dearies,” the waitress said as she approached our table, her voice warm and lilting. “Will ye be havin' drinks and lunch today?”

I froze for a second, caught completely off guard. I’d never seen a dwarven woman before, and she was… something else. Like the men, she was stout, sure, but where they were all broad muscle and bristling beards, she was… buxom. Very buxom. She wore a low-cut cotton dress with a red corset that cinched her waist and, uh, emphasized her cleavage in a way that was both impossible to miss and frankly a delight to admire. Her curly brown hair was pulled back under a red kerchief, framing her large, soft features that somehow managed to be both maternal and ridiculously sexy.

I had a serious problem looking away. My brain felt like it had been thrown into a blender. This wasn’t my type, right? Definitely not my type. And yet… something about her confidence, her curves, the earthy strength she radiated…Oh yeah, it was doing things to me. Confusing things. I mean, was I... kind of getting turned on by dwarves? Apparently, I was. This is a thing. I thought, as I tore my gaze away from her body.

“Absolutely.” Said Kev, his voice rising over the noise of the crowded room. It pushed me out of my twisty train of thought. The world, it seems, just keeps racing on, even as my stupid little brain keeps pumping the brakes.

He dropped a small handful of copper coins on the table. “What’s for lunch?”

“Goat stew with potatoes and leeks.” She said swiping up the coins. “Wine, mead or ale?”

“Ale for me,” Kev said. “And also, for our friend.” He pointed up a Jinx.

“Mead for us,” Gem said, pointing at me. I was about to protest, craving a big glass of wine.

“’K dearies,” the waitress said with a smile and moved on to the next table.

“Don’t ever order wine at one of these small village places,” Gem whispered. “Piss tastes better.”

“Hey,” I whispered to her, watching the hypnotic back end of the waitress as she walked away. “Do they call them waitresses or wenches here?”

“People that serve the tables are called wenches if they’re girls,” she whispered back, her eyes now on the spot I was watching. “or swains for boys.”

“Wenches and swains. Got it.”

“Oy there,” Jinx said. He arrived at the table right after the bowls of stew, a platter of bread, and drinks. He was gripping a couple of pieces of parchment. “Not much on the boards 'ere, mates, but I got a couple of promisin' lookin' quests that we can take.”

“What do you have?” Kev asked, sipping his ale. The drinks were in pint-sized wooden mugs, and the stew was in matching wooden bowls.

“We 'ave a cluster of chagkraaws that are bitin' into the local farmer’s crop to the west. Not much in the way of gold, but it'll 'elp with some monster experience, ya know.” He dropped the parchment piece down. “It’s Guild sponsored, so we'll get an instant payout too, mates.” He held up the other one. “This next one is a bit trickier. We need to 'ead over to Longhorn Castle. The notice says quest is comin' from Duke Yarnaen Longhorn 'imself. I’m sure it’s a bounty, so the pay should be good.”

“We were going to stay in the county,” Gem said. “What’s the difficulty?”

“Don’t say,” Jinx said. “But we’re four strong now. So, I reckon we can see what 'e 'as to offer and decide if we can risk it.”

“I like it,” Gem said.

“I’m in,” said Kev.

The group turned to me. I had a bite of goat meat in my mouth, and I was chewing on it. “What?” It was not ladylike, to say the least.

“You in or out, love?” Jinx said. “You’re in the party now, you got a say.”

“Well,” I said. I chewed aggressively and swallowed it a little too fast, leading to even more undignified hacking as I swallowed a mouthful of ale to rinse it down. “I have no idea what a chagkraaw is, or who Duke Yarnaen Longhorn is, so I’m gonna have to defer to the rest of you on these.”

“That’ll do,” Jinx said. He pulled a ring from his storage and pressed it to each parchment paper on the table. And they glowed in turn.

The Whisperer read the summary to me:

PARTY QUEST

CHAGKRAAW HUNT

Chagkraaws are venturing into the fields of Grey Anvil and eating the crops. Eliminate the creatures and their brood mother to rid the farmers of the pestilence.

REWARD:

500GP, VARIOUS XP

PARTY QUEST

YARNAEN LONGHORN MISSION

Journey to Castle Longhorn and speak to its master to earn a quest.

REWARD:

NEW QUEST

“So. The Longhorn quest is not a Guild quest?”

“No, Love,” Jinx said, sitting down.

“He probably wants to keep the details of the quest private.” Said Gem.

“So, the Guild’s a public entity then?”

“It’s private. But quests are publicly posted and must be sanctioned by the local government, so it’s all public knowledge.”

“Is taking a private quest like this a great idea?”

“Like I said, love,” Jinx sipped his ale. “The pay’s good, and secrets always come at a premium price.”

“As long as the secret isn’t worth more than four mercenaries,” I said gloomily. The whole thing seemed a bit suspicious to me. But being new to Murder World, I had to trust the group. None of them seemed concerned.

“Whoa,” Kev said. “You sure you just arrived from another world? You sound like you’ve been at this game for a long time.” He chuckled and started in on his soup.

“Strike out tomorrow morning, then?” Jinx asked, holding up his mug.

“Aye,” Kev and Gem said, clacking their mugs to his.

“Aye,” I echoed, joining them. We all took a sip and resumed lunch. Chatting quietly for the next hour or so.

After lunch, we each handed Jinx two SP to pay for rooms. I left the inn with Gem and Kev. Heather was still sitting on her bench when we emerged. She had somehow gotten her hands on a cup of ale and an apple. The remains of which were on the bench next to her.

“We’re going to the shops for some supplies,” I said. “You want to join us?”

“I have everything I need,” she said. “The church supplies it.”

“Well,” I said, smiling. “I thought you might like some company.”

“I definitely don’t need any of that.”

“Why even bother with her?” Gem asked as we headed up the street.

“Part of its entertainment value,” I smiled back at the priestess. “It’s also not the kind of energy I want to be matching, so yeah.”

Kettlebottom’s was only two doors down from the inn. I paused by the door. The others took two more steps before they realized I had stopped.

“You’re going in there?” asked Kev. “Why?”

“The guard.”

“Yeah,” Gem said. “He said Kettlebottom’s would rob us blind.”

“And you believe some random asshole? Graybrow’s probably pays him a commission. He’ll first ask how you found out about his shop.” I stepped up to them, smiling, my hand out to shake. “I’ll put a silver on it.”

The door to Kettlebottom’s closed behind me with a soft chime from the bell overhead. The shop was larger than I expected, about fifteen feet across and twelve deep, and packed with all the essentials of a fantasy world, or so I assumed. Sealed crates and barrels were stacked neatly along the walls, along with saddles, sacks of grain, bolts of fabric, and other odds and ends I couldn’t begin to identify.

The sales counter stretched across three-quarters of the back wall, with a closed door behind it. Shelves above and beside the counter were crammed with smaller items: pots, pans, ropes, lanterns, torches, and weapons in all shapes and sizes. Rows of tiny, bottled potions, each about the size of a tube of lipstick, lined the shelves like a miniature apothecary. The outside noise was muffled here, leaving the room comfortably quiet.

“Good afternoon,” came a crisp voice from behind the counter. The speaker was a tiny man standing in front of an open book. He was bald, with a silver beard but no mustache, and he wore a green tunic with a broad yellow collar that draped over his shoulders. The tunic was embroidered with bright, curly patterns that danced across his chest.

I’d seen others like him outside; he was about the size of a ten-year-old but taller than the rest of his kind. Not that I had any room to judge; at my height, I wasn’t exactly towering over anyone. His voice was high-pitched and clipped, probably thanks to his skinny, sharp nose, which gave him a perpetually inquisitive look. Perched at the end of that nose was a pair of half-moon spectacles, completing the picture of a fantasy world shopkeeper who probably knew exactly what you needed before you even walked through the door.

“I’ll be happy to answer any questions you have?”

“Mr. Kettlebottom, I presume?” I asked as I walked up to the counter.

“Not to a debt or tax collector.” He said with a kind smile. He slipped a leather bookmark in the pages and flipped the book shut. Upon reaching the counter, I realized a raised platform was behind it that elevated him above my eye level. “But to a beautiful girl such as yourself, guilty as charged.”

“The village guard didn’t recommend your shop very highly.”

“If I flipped him more coppers than my friend Hetmat does, he would be singing my praises just as much,” Kettlebottom said dryly. “But it doesn’t take long for wise people to see my shop has the best selection and deals in Wood Cut.”

“I was wondering,” I asked, “Where are you from?”

“Monjist,” Kettlebottom replied.

“Where’s that?”

“You sure you’re not a tax collector?” he said with a chuckle.

“No,” I raised my shoulder and smiled at him. “It’s just that I’m pretty new here.”

“That’s obvious. Monjist is across the Tirus Sea. I immigrated to the Empire fifty years ago and settled here twenty-three years ago.”

“Is it nice here?”

“Yes,” Kettlebottom replied with a smile. “Dwarves aren’t like many of the other enlightened races. Begging your pardon, but Elves, Humans, and even my own kind often look down their noses at others. Dwarves don’t. Oh, they can be greedy, grumpy, and just as dishonest as anyone else when it suits them, but they judge folk by what they do, not by what they are. So, I’ve found a nice home here.”

“And you’re a?”

“Gnome. Monjist is a Gnomish kingdom, but it’s very troubled. I prefer a quiet life where I can read my books and sell my wares.”

“Sounds nice.”

“I won’t pry too much,” said Kettlebottom. “But I wager a copper you’re a rifter.”

“You’d be a copper richer.”

“You’re lucky you landed where you did. Like I said, dwarves are very accepting, and so is the Empire for the most part, but your kind aren’t welcome everywhere.”

“I already got an earful from someone.”

“It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out, but try to keep that information to yourself when traveling, even around here. The local Imperial Magistrate will need to get you registered, but the information is kept confidential. As time goes by, you’ll be a little less green and will blend in better.”

“Um, I have to register? With the Empire?”

“Of course you do,” he said. “If you want to travel and work, you must have residency established. The Empire is civil enough to allow that.”

“I hadn’t really thought about that. Thanks for the advice.”

“Advice is free; my wares are not.” He straightened up. “Are you here to buy or sell?”

“Bit of both.”

I pulled out the dagger I received in the starter kit and set it on the counter. “I have a bunch of iron-tipped arrows; I wanted to get some other kinds that might be a bit better.”

“Hmm,” Kettlebottm picked up the dagger and inspected it. “It’s nothing remarkable, but it’s good quality and looks brand new. You don’t see many newly forged small arms around here, even in a dwarven village.”

He paused for a moment to think. “I have a dozen steel arrows and a dozen obsidian arrows. Obsidian is more effective against magical creatures and items if that is what you are after.”

He placed the dagger down on the counter. “I would pay four SP for the dagger, steel arrows are three SP a dozen, and the obsidians are six SP per dozen.”

“I’ll trade you the dagger plus four SP for them,” I said firmly, puffing up my chest.

“Sounds acceptable.” Kettlebottom produced two bundles of arrows and set them on the counter. “Is there anything else you would like?”

I tucked all my new items into storage, taking a moment to organize my inventory. The arrows went in first, followed by three potions of minor healing and one major healing potion, one hundred, twenty GP well spent. Given that I couldn’t count on Heather to patch me up if I got hurt, extra healing supplies felt like a necessity.

I also splurged on an enchanted ring that added plus one to Strength. When I mentioned having a personal null space, the gnome strongly suggested an enchanted decoy ring to thwart would-be thieves.

“If you find yourself at the mercy of criminals, it would be best to make them believe you have your items in a storage device. Best to lose the ring then have them extract your belongings through more…brutal means.”

I shuddered at his advice but took it.

“Storage items have protections,” he explained, “Most ruffians on the road won’t have a ritualist on hand to crack them and likely won’t know what kind of ring it is.”

The last extravagant purchase was a mage lamp. Unlike my lantern, I could use a control rod, basically a metallic magic wand, to channel EP into the thing, and the stone would glow like a lightbulb. He suggested it because even with elven vision, I would be blind in total darkness.

I managed to negotiate him down by 20 GP on the deal, promising to send new customers his way. Not bad for a shopping trip.

The Whisperer was right on it.

NEW QUEST

CUSTOMER REFERRAL

You have been given a quest from Kettlebottom to bring in new customers.

Rewards:

1. 15 XP

2. Good Customer Discount at Kettlebottom’s. The more customers, the higher the discount.

ACCEPT QUEST?

The bell rang just as I accepted the quest and turned from the counter. Kev and Gem walked in. Both looked annoyed. I paused, turned, and faced Kettlebottom, giving him a slight bow and a wink.

QUEST COMPLETE

CUSTOMER REFERRAL

You have brought new customers into Kettlebottom’s

Rewards:

1. 15 XP

2. Good Customer Discount at Kettlebottom’s.

“As good as my word.”

He returned the smile and nodded before straightening up behind the counter, ready for his two new customers.

I skipped over to Gem and Kev, holding out my hand. “Silver,” I sang sweetly to them.

I returned to the Iron Hammer, finding Jinx at the bar, chatting with another traveler. He was arguing with the guy about politics or crime. I wasn’t up on stuff happening on Earth, much less around here. It finally ended when I tapped him lightly on the shoulder. His face was red from a bit too much ale.

I filled him in on what Kettlebottom had told me, and the barkeeper confirmed it before spitting on the floor. Not a fan of the local magistrate, I guessed.

Jinx grumpily agreed to go to the village hall with me to meet with him. He then bombarded me with advice, criticisms of the empire, and authority in general. I think he might have thrown in something about the commercialization of Rock and Roll music.

“Alcohol definitely greases the vocal cords,” I said quietly.

“Wa was that?” he barked, verbally stumbling out of his rant.

“Nothing.”

“Imperial fucking Magistrate.” He mumbled as we walked toward the center of Wood Cut. “I 'ad no idea they were gonna make ya register. I landed in the south, so I crossed over the border after already gettin' established.”

“It’s no big deal,” I said, skipping to keep up with his pace. My little legs were not used to working so hard to walk as fast as the average dude.

“Maybe it ain’t. Maybe it is.” He skidded to a stop when we reached the central square in front of the building. “Do what I told ya earlier. Play it close to the vest. Don’t tell 'em anythin' ya don’t 'ave to, and don’t tell 'em you 'ave anythin' from Earth on ya.”

“Why?”

“Cuz that shite’s bloody valuable, is why.” He whispered to me.

The village hall was an imposing two-story structure, easily the grandest building in town. The first story was tall and wide, with intricately carved wooden columns supporting a porch that stretched the entire length of the front. An extended entryway jutted out, large enough to shelter a wagon beneath it.

The second story was octagonal, about half the width of the first, with large windows lining each of its eight walls. Above it, a sharply pitched roof gleamed with copper sheets, weathered to a rich green patina. The whole thing gave off an air of importance, standing in stark contrast to the more modest buildings around it.

A dwarven guard stood watch by the main door, hand resting casually on the hilt of his sword. He was clad in the same heavy armor as the gate guards, his stern expression suggesting he wasn’t there to give directions.

“State yer business.” He said flatly, not even bothering to make eye contact.

Jinx sighed. “Imperial business wiv the Magistrate.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“Imperial business,” Jinx repeated. “Not yer business.”

The guard lazily swung his gaze up at Jinx. “Far be it from me to interfere in Imperial affairs.” He grumbled and gestured for us to enter.

Surprisingly, Jinx and I were the only ones in the lobby. The building was stunning, crafted from native wood with intricate floral patterns inlaid along the walls and floors. Every surface gleamed, polished to such a high shine that I was relieved I wasn’t wearing a dress. I hadn’t even realized wood could look like that.

A brass directory stood nearby, pointing to the left toward the office of the Imperial Magistrate. We followed the vast hall until it ended at a large, imposing door.

Two human guards flanked it, looking just as relaxed, borderline lazy, as the one stationed outside, just a lot less grumpy. Their armor was different, however. Instead of heavy plates, they wore scaled armor with overlapping pieces that extended into a plated skirt reaching their knees. Their swords, while similar in design, were made of a different polished metal that gleamed faintly in the light. Both men had short, cropped hair, one a fiery red, the other a deep chestnut brown. Their expressions? Somewhere between “bored” and “dare me to stop you.”

“Magistrate,” Jinx said, nodding at the door. Not a question. The closer man looked us both over and nodded.

The building's opulence ended inside the Magistrate's office. Gone were the polished wood and intricate carvings. Instead, dark-paneled walls loomed, lit by scattered lamps that gave the space a dim, almost brooding atmosphere. Four humans, one man, and three women, sat at desks around an elevated central one, working quietly.

The man at the center desk looked up as we entered, his bored expression flickering with faint interest. He wore silken robes and wore a golden eagle pin over his heart. An untouched steaming cup of tea sat on his desk.

Middle-aged, with collar-length brown hair streaked liberally with gray, he had sharp gray eyes that suggested he wasn’t as indifferent as his posture let on. Judging by the paperwork strewn across his desk, he seemed more than ready for a distraction.

“Good day,” he said pleasantly, his voice warm and cultured, like a British schoolteacher straight out of a movie.

“This is Regan Moon,” Jinx said, gesturing toward me. “Newly arrived rifter.”

The Man’s eyes lit up with genuine curiosity. “A rifter, really?” he said, sitting up straighter. “That’s the most interesting thing that’s happened here in quite a while.”

“Yup,” I said with a smile, trying to match his enthusiasm. “Just popped in yesterday.”

“Remarkable.” He stood halfway, leaning over the desk to offer his hand. “Magistrate Gnaeus Vibennis.”

I shook his hand gingerly. “Um, Hi, I’m Regan”

“Let me be the first to welcome you to the Sovell Empire,” he said, releasing my hand and settling back into his chair. He seemed genuinely polite, though I couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or just putting on a show out of sheer boredom. I figured it was probably the latter. It is a small village with not much to do.

“Empress Claudia Fidelis welcomes all who enter her realm from other worlds,” he continued, sounding like he was reading off a script. “She understands you didn’t come here by choice and that you only wish to make a life for yourself.” His tone was smooth but practiced, and it was definitely a rehearsed spiel. “With a citizen sponsor, you’ll be granted full legal protections as a resident of the Empire, along with an opportunity to gain citizenship, should you desire it.”

It all sounded a little too polished, but hey, at least he was making an effort.

“She ‘as a sponsor,” Jinx said. He pulled a large gold coin from his storage and placed it on the table. It was larger and thicker than a standard gold coin, about the size of a half dollar, but twice as thick.

“Excellent,” Vibennis said. He lifted the coin and examined it. “Let’s see,” he squinted at the coin. “This is the token for Alfie Thomason.”

Jinx spun around, facing me. He poked his finger up, trembling slightly. A slight crackle of energy danced around his fingernail. “Not a bleedin’ word,” he growled, glaring at me. I already had my mouth open, but his tone made me hesitate—just barely.

“It’s Jinx,” he said, voice low and firm like he dared me to test him. “’As been since I got ’ere, understand?”

“Yeah,” I said, smiling sweetly. Then, before he could react, I blurted out as fast as I could, “Oh, I’m gonna say it one time: Alfie Thomason.”

The look he gave me could have melted steel. Worth it.

“You done?”

“I’m done.”

Vibeninis cleared his throat. “Are you both done?”

“Yeah,” Jinx said.

“Sorry.” I was fighting back the giggles; I felt like a school kid sent to the principal’s office for doing something stupid.

The Magistrate then pulled a small form out of his desk and began filling it out with a feather quill. “The rules for residency are simple enough.” He said, scribbling quickly on the parchment. “You will be given all protections of a full citizen so long as you pay your taxes and follow Imperial law. You will be allowed to travel throughout all the Empire's nations, cities, and colonies. You will not, however, have the right to vote, hold property larger than a single dwelling, or serve directly in the Imperial government or military.”

“Okay.”

“The only exception is at time of war, when you may be conscripted into service.”

“Again, okay.”

“Imperial citizenship is allowed after three years of residency. During that time, you are not allowed to leave the borders of the Empire for longer than one calendar year.” He shuffled the paper aside and grabbed another.

He dipped his feather and began furiously writing again. “Exceeding one year outside our borders will negate the contract, and you must reapply.”

“And, Okay, again.”

“You recognize Empress Claudia Fidelis as the divine ruler of this Empire and all of its nations?”

“Um, Sure?”

“Lastly,” he said. “You must submit to an Imperial scribe's appraisal.”

“What’s an appraisal?”

“An examination of your Character Sheet,” Vibeninis said. “Verification of your identity.” He pulled a third paper out and started filling in the blanks.

I glanced over at Jinx. He shrugged and nodded.

“Okay, Let’s do it.”

It was early evening by the time we reentered the Iron Hammer. I now had copies of the three forms from the Magistrate and a silver token in my inventory. Kev and Gem were at one of the tables close to the bar. They were both nursing mugs. A partially picked-over plate of cheese, meats, and dried fruit sat between them. They were dressed in casual clothes, a tunic and pants for Kev, and Gem wore the same dress she had the previous night.

“Everything squared away?” She asked when we sat.

“Yeah,” I said, popping a piece of cheese. It was white, with little black spots on it. It tasted sharp and earthy, like goat cheese. Seriously yummy.

Jinx helped himself to the platter. “Bloody waste.” He said bitterly. “She had to pony up two GP to process the paperwork.”

“It’s better than being here illegally,” Kev said. “You know they can press illegals, right?”

“That’s right,” said Gem. “At least everyone’s protected.

“You mean pressed,” I asked through a mouth full of cheese, “As in slavery?” That ain’t good, Regan. I thought.

“Yeah.”

“But she weren't 'ere illegally.,” Jinx said. “Just not registered. Now they 'ave all 'er stats and info so that they can keep tabs on 'er.”

“The Empire has that on everybody,” Kev said. “You just have issues with authority.”

“Not all authority,” Jinx muttered. “Just that, that ain’t mine.”

“Oy,” the barkeep barked out to the room. “Number twenty-four, yer up!”

“That’s you,” Gem said.

“Me? What?” I asked her.

“The bathhouse is clear for the next hour,” Gem said, standing up and handing me a small, numbered slip. “You should partake. Just take it up to the bar.”

I did as I was instructed, handing the bartender a copper coin and the slip. He gave me a grin, sliding a key across the bar. “Don’t be makin’ a mess in there, lass,” he grumbled, jerking his thumb toward the door behind him.

The bathhouse was tucked in the inn's basement, right across from the storage room. The space inside was bathed in soft green and blue light, making it feel like it was in another world. In the center of the room sat a recessed copper tub, steaming like it had been waiting just for me. The sharp, clean scent of eucalyptus hung in the air, thick enough to taste.

I locked the door behind me and shifted my armor into my inventory, a trick I still wasn’t used to. Before sinking into the tub, a mirror by the door caught my eye. I froze, staring at the half-elf in the reflection. Crazy pink hair. Petite but muscular body with an hourglass figure. High cheekbones, pouty lips, and big elf eyes. It wasn’t me, not really. The woman in the mirror looked like a fantasy-inspired pinup model shrunk to fit in a fun-sized wrapper.

When I walked around town or sat on a wagon, my brain pictured my old body doing those things. Not this... elf. The image was alien. It looked wrong. My hands drifted over it—over me—feeling the curves, the smoothness of the skin, the unfamiliar planes. My shoulders. My face. My breasts. Between my legs. I shivered at my new body’s...um...sensitivity.

A wave of dread hit like a bucket of ice water. My legs buckled, and I nearly went down. My palms slapped the wet stone floor as my heart jackhammered in my chest. It’s not me. I’m not this. My thoughts spun out of control, ping-ponging between two worlds. Colorado. Nya. Megan. My parents. The group interview in the beige conference room last week. Gem and Kev. Jinx. Kettlebottom. My old, flawed, human body. This weird, perfect elf one.

I bit my lip hard enough to break the skin, but it grounded me, keeping me from crying. My breath came in short gasps until the feeling ebbed as quickly as it came. My heart slowed, my hands steadied, and I crawled into the steaming water. It swallowed me like an embrace, the perfumed heat chasing away the worst of the panic. I sunk under the surface. My hair resisted, but little me could sink far enough to pull the disobedient strands down with me.

Even as my body relaxed, my mind wouldn’t. It felt... displaced, like it hadn’t settled into this new world or body. Whenever I was alone, my brain rebelled, scrambling to shove together pieces that didn’t fit. Alone used to be my comfort zone. I didn’t need people. Hell, I actively avoided them. But now? I couldn’t stand solitude. My mind needed the noise, the distraction.

It had only been a day and a half since I’d arrived, and I prayed this adjustment period wouldn’t last forever. Freaking out every time a door closed behind me wasn’t a sustainable lifestyle.

Determined to pull myself together, I scrubbed—every inch. Hair, nails, skin—nothing was safe from the cloth. My stupid, vibrant hair resisted, but I fought it into submission. The washing turned into something else, though. It became an exploration.

Everything felt different. My skin was taut, stretched like a drumhead. My arms and legs were hard, muscled in a way they never had been before. My fingers traced the contours of my new body, the circles of my fuller breasts, my overly sensitive nipples, and the curve of my waist.

This wasn’t the body I knew. But for better or worse, it was mine now.

I reached down, hesitantly exploring between my legs, and sucked in a sharp breath. That was... different. Softer. More delicate. It wasn’t unsettling this time. Thankfully, today’s quota for existential panic had already been met. As I rubbed, my thoughts wandered, and with them came faces.

Gem’s face. Her figure. The memory of her lying next to me the night before, her body pressed against mine. My pulse quickened at the thought of it. Then there was Kev, shirtless, his green skin gleaming. The image of him moved through my mind, his strength, his hands, the weight of him pressing me into a mattress, maybe? Actually, it was the bed of straw in the back of the wagon; I imagined the way he would feel inside me.

And, because apparently, my brain couldn’t help itself, the damn dwarven guard came marching in, their armor pieces bouncing and clanging on the floor as they pulled them off. It wasn’t long before a full-blown orgy was raging in my head, pulling me in every direction. Gem, Kev, the guard, it was almost too much. I wanted all of them, any of them, every single one who bounced into my thoughts.

My body shuddered, the sensation building until it broke in a messy, uncontrollable ripple that rolled through me. A groan escaped my lips as the release spread from between my legs to the rest of me, leaving me trembling, breathless, and thoroughly overwhelmed.

“Oh…” I moaned out to the universe. “Holy Shit.” God, I hope there weren’t any peepholes in this room.

Fifty minutes later, I walked out, somehow feeling dirtier than when I had gone in. I looked around the area by the bar. I was pretty sure if one of these asshats had been watching me, there would be no way they could hide it.

“Feel better?” Gem asked as I joined her back at the table. Kev and Jinx were gone, and there was no sign of Heather.

I just rubbed one out in the bath. I almost wanted to say. My face was still blushing, and I felt a little weak in the knees. I just nodded with a dumb smile on my face.

“Where’re the boys,” I asked, sitting across from her.

“Off to the brothel, I expect.”

“Oh,” I wrinkled my nose at the thought. “Gross.”

“You’re a prude.”

“I’m not a prude.” I glared at her. “They don’t really have brothels where I come from.” I gestured to the wench for a drink. “Just something else I need to get used to.”

“The men there must be insufferable.”

“Not really. I didn’t do much in that department, and I don’t really go out that much, so I don’t have much experience, good or bad.” The wench dropped a mug down.

“Why?” Gem asked.

“I don’t know.” I sipped my drink. The mead was sweet. I liked it. “I don’t feel much of a drive to do anything. At least…”

“At least what?” Gem looked at me coyly.

“Well, it’s a little different here.” I took a deep breath. “I am... definitely, a little more...” No words were coming out.

“Arousable?”

“It usually takes a lot for me to get excited, like I need to be watching or reading something, but now...I don’t get it.” I could feel my face blushing even more at the conversation. Gem just smiled at me kindly and sipped her drink. She also didn’t break eye contact. I'm not sure; she may not have even been blinking.

“You know what my solution is?’

“I couldn’t imagine.”

Gem stood up and offered her hand to me. I looked back and forth between Gem’s hand and face.

“Seriously?” I asked. Instantly, my body and mind were at odds again. Adrenaline surged, and I felt butterflies in my stomach.

“Oh yeah.” With her other hand, Gem tossed two copper coins on the tabletop.