The tavern was much quieter this time, only a patron or two eating meals and sipping from tankards. They looked to be citizens, all dressed in normal clothes and lacking any distinctive weaponry. Even Peter’s discount armour appeared out of place in the setting. He snagged a menu from the bar and slid into a booth table with a sigh. Leaning back in the comfortable seating he popped open his inventory and extracted DB, who ran up his arm and sniffled excitedly.

“I missed you too little buddy. What a day I’ve had, let me tell you.” Peter opened the menu. “How about some eats while we discuss it?” He held the menu lower so that DB could reach it from the table top.

Sure enough, the rodent swarmed down his arm again and started to sniff at the list. After excitedly running his nose over every inch of the menu, DB pawed at the picture of the Big Breakfast, then hunched over to scratch behind his hear with a hindpaw.

“A Big Breakfast? You’re sure? Ok, but that’s going to take all the money we picked up from that last fight.” Peter shuddered as the thought of the encounter in the forest shouldered its way to the forefront of his memory. Having a big breakfast and being a big breakfast were vastly different experiences. He fished around in his inventory for the money as he stood up again. “Stay her and mind the seat buddy.”

Peter left DB on the tabletop with instructions to guard their table. He approached the bar with the menu in hand, keeping an eye out for Rosie. She was nowhere in sight, unfortunately, as Peter felt a need to talk with the NPC, even knowing she wasn’t a real person. Tending the bar was a large man in a flannel shirt, denim trousers and suspenders. Peter was fairly sure it was a man, it was unlikely anyone would have shaved a bear and stuffed it into that outfit. After a moment a familial resemblance tweaked at the back of Peter’s mind.

“Excuse me, sir? Are you related to the apprentice blacksmith?” Peter inquired as he laid the menu on the bar.

The barman guffawed. “Indeed I am, young Traveller. My name is Dave, and this is my tavern. What can I do for you on this fine morn?”

“A Big Breakfast, if I may.” Peter laid the appropriate value in copper on the bar top. “And information, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Dave flipped the cloth used for cleaning glasses over his shoulder. “One moment,” he held up a finger and lifted a speaking tube from a hangar behind the bar. He whistled into the mouthpiece, a shrill piercing noise. A muted response issued from the tube and he passed Peter’s order down the tube to wherever the kitchen may reside. “Alright Traveller, brekkie will be a bit so what can I help you with?”

“What is a geas? There was a weird notification a little while ago and it made no sense to me.”

Dave slapped his meaty palm against his thigh. “Oh-ho! The Avatars have issued a new Geas have they? We don’t get the messages from the gods like Travellers do, so I don’t know the details, but when a Geas, a Quest of Fate, is issued to a Traveller, our world is about to change. Great heroes rise to the fore, nations can fall or be created. We’re in for interesting times, even out here in the sticks. We’ll need to up the guard too, monster numbers tend to multiply when a Geas is issued.” Dave pushed the small pile of copper back to Peter. “Your food is on the house if you don’t mind running across to the Mayor’s house and letting him know right away. But, take your pet with you. Some customers are squeamish about rodents. Your food will be ready when you get back.”

Peter ducked back to his table, scooped up DB and dashed out the door. He sprinted across the square to the ornate home of the mayor that doubled as a courthouse and office. He took no time to admire it’s impressive frontage though, running up the stairs and rapping on the door. He was quite out of breath when a middle aged woman opened the door.

"Puh..pleah… sorry… please, I nuh… need to see the uhh… the Mayor,” Peter wheezed. The excitement for his first quest that offered a real and immediate reward, and no chance of dying in the process, that he had not even paused to think. “There’s a system notice… uhh. New geas from the Aaavatars.”

“Come in sonny, have a seat. My husband will be able to see you shortly.” The kindly lady gestured to a bench seat in the foyer. As Peter slumped into it, she eased herself into a much nicer swivel chair behind a massive oak desk and quickly penned a memo. Then, reaching up she clipped the piece of paper to a brass chain that ran horizontally through a recess in the wall and pulled a lever. The note was whisked through the gap into the closed office behind her to the chime of a bell.

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It didn’t take long for the double doors to the Mayoral Office to burst open and a large, red-faced but jovial man emerged. “My boy! My boy! What a day? What a DAY! A new Geas? When did the gods announce this?” his booming voice filled the office.

Thunderstruck, Peter could only whisper. “About an hour ago?”

The Mayor settled his bulk onto the bench beside Peter, making it creak alarmingly. “An hour ago? It’s brand new! This could mean a fresh stream of new Travellers! We must prepare! Maude, put out the news.” He gestured emphatically at his wife. “My boy, thank you for bringing me this news. This could mean everything to our little village. We’ve so much to do, so much to do. I’m in your debt, my boy. How can I reward you?”

Peter leaned away from the man, whose personal space seemed to extend to fill the whole room. “Sir, Dave from the tavern has already paid me to come over here. I’m getting a free breakfast.”

A hefty clap on the back nearly sent Peter sprawling. “So honest too! You, my boy, will go far. Well, if Dave has already looked after you then all I will add is my endorsement. Maude, spread the word, this Traveller has my gratitude.”

Maude stopped writing briefly to make a quick note and added it to a brass spike. Clearly this development was a very big deal. Peter was stunned, if this was the response in a small country town what would it be like in a city? What did it mean for him? Should he tell anyone it was HIS Geas? In the end, he kept mum on the subject.

Peter stood up. “Sir, may I be excused? My breakfast at the tavern will be getting cold.”

“Of course, my boy. Go, enjoy your meal, you’ve earned it.” The mayor stood as well, and held the front door open for Peter to leave.

Peter stumbled into the tavern shortly after in a daze. He followed Dave’s pointed finger to the booth where a steaming plate of food waited for him. Thoughts running around and around in his head like a demented merry-go-round left him so distracted that he didn’t realise he had company until she stole a sausage from his plate. Peter looked up sharply.

“You!”

“Me!” she responded. “Sausage!” she waved the half eaten piece of meat at him. “I’ma pinch your egg too, if you keep staring at it instead of eating it.” Sitting on the other side of the table was the girl Peter met in Jacob’s workshop. She was happily chowing down on his breakfast, stabbing at the choicest parts with a wicked looking dagger and stuffing them in her mouth.

“What are you doing here?” Peter inquired. “Apart from eating my breakfast, that is.” He took a moment to extract DB and place him on the table. Easing into the booth seat, Peter snagged a bacon rind and gave it to DB to keep him occupied.

“Mmph, buh dish tasht shooo goog.” She swallowed. “Dave’s got an Ork chef, like, super rare, who makes THE BEST sausages and bacon. I try to get back here at least once a month just for these.”

Peter took up the cutlery and tried a mouthful. She was right, this was incredible. Better than anything his parents had ever made. Food this good shouldn’t exist in a game. Or, maybe it should, with no constraints on reality they can make it taste like anything. “Ok, the food is good” he admitted. “But why are you here, at my table, eating my food? You’re way more powerful than I am, probably richer, and definitely more experienced. Shouldn’t you be off having the kind of adventures that they put tapestries in the temples about?”

The girl quirked an eyebrow. “Oh, but I am. You saw the notification, didn’t you? Every Traveller in the world would have. There’s something big going down and I know it’s going down here. Someone in this town triggered a Geas.” She leaned across the table and whispered in his ear, “and I know that someone is you.” As she rocked back into her seat she snagged another sausage. “I said I’d be watching.”

Peter took another forkful and chewed thoughtfully. “The scythe,” he said eventually. “You put some sort of scrying spell on it, didn’t you?”

“Well, kinda. It was my Dad’s favourite weapon, but he doesn’t play anymore. When he decided to leave he gave me a bunch of his stuff and said I’d know when I met who they were meant to be for. I thought it was a secret quest he was passing on and I would get a pop-up when I met the NPC I should give them to. Imagine my surprise when it turned out it was you that I was supposed to give the scythe to. So, I stuck a mind stone attuned to me in the haft. It gives me an idea what’s going on around it. I can’t do proper magic, you need to go to one of the universities in the capital for like, years, and buy a bunch of boring books and stuff. I’m more of a “stick ‘em with a poisoned dagger” type. Especially if it’s contagious.” She waved the dagger covered in bacon grease suggestively. “I once stuck a single goblin with this, took out the whole warband. They were all bleh,” she mimicked a dead body, “and I walked in, saved the prisoners and took home a chest full of gold. Easy peasy.”

“And yet, you’re taking my food.” Peter felt rather hard done by. He had never had a breakfast so good in the real world, and probably never will. His mum didn’t do bacon and eggs anymore and his dad’s cooking could only be described as woeful at best. He was also feeling exhausted. It’d been a long play session and playing through the nights meant he wasn’t really getting the sleep he needed. He pushed the plate across the table. “You know what? You can finish it. I have to go do... stuff.”

Peter scooped up DB and left the tavern. He still needed to think about this epic quest, and it looked like he wasn’t going to get any peace anytime soon. He ducked into an alley and logged off. Waking briefly into the warm darkness of his own bedroom, Peter glanced at the clock on his bedside table which showed 01:56. He tried to do the mental arithmetic, figure out how much sleep he could get before he had to roll out of bed but soon fell into a dreamless void.