I didn’t try to insert myself into that conversation, even though I was the one that had created the chips. Instead, I sidled around the crowd and found a quiet corner to sit and wait for things to die down. The sounds of crunching chip-eaters filled the room, everyone having forgotten their real food. I even had to sweep aside a crushed coke can before seating myself. I didn’t bother looking for a place to throw it away, knowing it would dissolve before too long. Once seated, I pulled out my laptop and tried to see what I could do on it without the internet. I had a folder with just a few songs I’d downloaded. Streaming being what it was, it was rare for me to download a music file. I launched a favorite indie rock song. The opening guitar riff played the same as usual, but when the singing started, the words were… off. The beat was right, but lyrics kept flitting out when it got to a section I didn’t remember as well and were replaced with humming and wordless yammers. I muted the volume so I wouldn’t embarrass myself. That ridiculous interpretation of music wasn’t going to impress anyone.

That seemed to imply quite a few limitations to my new ability right off the bat. It wouldn’t allow me to just create books with knowledge I didn’t possess myself. So, no creating an ebook reader with the entire Library of Congress on it. Even books I knew seemed like they’d be suspect if I hadn’t memorized them before arriving in Earris. I reached down to that smashed coke can and read the ingredient list on the back. It had “water” and “high fructose corn syrup” listed, but most of the rest were just random groupings of letters.

That tall rissian with the mohawk was seated at a table with his group of friends sharing a bowl of doritos. He narrowed his eyes at my laptop. I realized maybe sitting around and fiddling with a strange device that nobody had seen before might garner some unwanted attention, so since there didn’t seem to be a ton I could do with it at the moment, I tucked my laptop back in my bag to let it keep charging my phone.

When I turned back around from doing that, the mohawked man had sat down on the bench across from me. I recognized the hairstyle as the same one those muggers that jumped me wore, but I tried not to hold it against him. It was probably just a popular style. He wore a vest of pursuer beast leather and had a prominent dimple on his chin.

“Hey there,” the man said. “Name’s Grant. We actually met yesterday. Do you remember?” He held up both hands and turned them so I could see both sides. The gesture had the kind of lazy speed that made me think it might be some kind of ritual, but he didn’t explain himself. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

I tried to remember where he and I might have met the night before. He kind of looked like the guy that had been waiting to talk to Dealla when I’d been paying my registration fees. A quiet part of my mind remembered it playing out differently—he’d already been talking to Dealla when I walked in. But that was another time and space, and had no bearing on the version of events playing out now. I wasn’t great at remembering the names of people I’d—

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“I think I remember you,” I told the guy while I clicked on my pop-up. It quickly informed me his name was, in fact, Grant. “What do you want?”

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“Just to say hi,” Grant said. He flashed a smile that was all teeth. He was blessed with a mouth that would bring tears of joy to the eyes of an orthodontist and seemed to know it, though he didn’t appear to be aware of the orange nacho powder currently staining them. “I’ve been watching you,” Grant said. “Vince, right?” I nodded. “You made quite the impression. Those crunchy things you made… chips, you called them? They’re fantastic. Never tasted anything like it.”

“You’re welcome,” I said, even though he hadn’t quite been thanking me for them.

“Right, so, I figure someone of your… resources could be a valuable asset for my party,” Grant continued. The way he said that seemed to imply he thought I was rich. The rumors had to be running rampant. I hoped that didn’t mean more muggings would happen when I didn’t even have cash on me.

“That the party you’re referring to?” I asked, nodding my head to the table behind him with four strangers seated at it.

“It is,” Grant confirmed. “We’re all certified wood tier, and we’re trying to rank up to stone.”

That piqued my interest. “Oh? Me too.”

“That’s great! We formed this new party so we could clear a stone contract together, but the dice didn’t go our way this morning. This is our third day holding the contract, so if we can’t get approved to go by the end of the day, we’ll have to give it back. You understand?”

“You, uh, are holding a contract you want to complete? And they won’t let you take it?”

“That’s right,” Grant said. “We can’t quite get enough weals, no matter what we change. I tried to convince the others to cut one of our less useful members from the roster, but they won’t have it. They’d rather we find someone new to add instead. I thought you might tip the balance, but the reward money on that contract is already pretty tight to be split five ways. Do you think you’d be willing to join us for… a half share?”

“Well, I came here to rank up,” I said, “but you’ll have to explain what the thing about the weal is that won’t let you take this contract. I’d be willing to take a pay cut; I just want to know why you want me.”

The other man nodded, like that was expected. “We need to average two weals before we can head out,” he said. “Some of us traded out equipment last night, but this morning the dice didn’t change. We’re close. Real close.”

I shook my head. “No, you don’t understand. I’m completely new here. I don’t even know why you’re talking about dice.”

“Oh, that sheltered?”

“Not sheltered, just… foreign.”

“I see. Well, at the Adventurer’s Guild, when you reserve a contract, you have to roll Fortune Dice before they let you take it. The dice tell you how likely you are to die trying to complete the contract. They don’t like to send people out on missions that are just gonna get killed. So if the dice say you’re most likely going to die, you can’t go. We snagged this contract when it popped up, but like I said, if we can’t get a good roll today, we’ll have to let it go back up on the board.”

“So this contract you want to do keeps saying you’re going to die?” I guessed. “And you think if I went with you, your chances would improve?”

“Exactly!” Grant said. “See? It’s not a hard system to understand. You don’t have to commit to anything. Just come with me to do a roll and if you don’t change our odds, we can try to find someone else. What do you think?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I’d want to look over the contract options first. I don’t want to do this contract with you if there’s a different job I could do in half the time. I’m kind of in a hurry to rank up.”

“So are we,” Grant insisted. “Do you even know how the ranking system works?”

“Not even slightly. I just know I have to reach Steel to get what I want.”