Vetra, Olaf, and Saga walked towards the inn, Olaf going through what Saga did wrong all over again, adding a little bit more info to the criticism as well as pointing out what he liked about Saga's fighting style. Saga for their part tried to take it all in and give the attention it required. In a way, Olaf was like the older brother they never had. As only children, they had only ever had their parents to lean on for advice. And then only their mom. And in the end, not even her. Olaf was like a big brother and Father figure all in one. The higher your spirit was, the slower you aged. As it was Olaf's second-highest attribute, he was a few years older than he looked. He looked to be in his early forties. But apparently, he was nearing 60. Lenara and Ingrid were even older, but Saga had an easier time coming to terms with that as Saga knew Elves and Dwarves in fiction were also long-lived.

All this did make Saga think about their own place in the world. And what was ahead of them? It nagged at the back of their head, asking Saga questions they did not have the answers for. But this kind of thinking was not new to Saga. It had been a constant companion over the years. The nagging self-doubt. The consistent, suffocating second-guessing of other people's intentions. The idea that nothing good happening could be trusted, because if they did, something awful was gonna come crashing into their life to kill that good thing off. Saga refused to let it be their life, their existence. Not here. Not after quite literally dying. That was old Saga. Instead, they'd get answers from those that had them. Saga turned to Vetra just as they got to the inn.

“I have a question.” Saga spoke and a lump of dread began to form in the back of their throat.

“Yes?” Vetra could somehow tell that Saga was dealing with something. Her tone with Saga was soft and empathic, and her hand took Sagas as the priest led Saga to sit. Saga allowed themselves to be led. Sat down at one of the tables furthest away. Olaf followed with a look of concern on his face. Gone was the stern drill sergeant.

“After you guys take me to the Hall of Gods and all that. Then what?" Saga asked. Fearing the answer, they pushed ahead before it could come. "I appreciate the training and all the help. I have been here for only a few days and you guys already feel like people I have known for much longer." Saga let the words just flow. "Back home. Before I died. I didn't have much. My parents are dead. I had a deadbeat job. I finished school but I found job interviews terrifying and I had no ambitions at all." Saga wanted the words to stop. Wanted to just shut up. They had no idea what any of this was about. Vetra and Olaf never dealt with picking up a telephone to talk to a man about a job you needed but didn't want. About giving up on dreams because life seemed to never give you a break. This world was all about seizing your destiny and walking the path you've chosen. Yes, it was brutal and dangerous. But there was an adventure. There was power anyone could grab if they wanted it enough.

"Saga," Vetra said as she put her hand over Sagas. "I do not know your world. But you are not the same person you were before your death. Or rather, the person you thought you were. Death has a way of putting things into clarity, or so the Head Priestess of Lady Death has told me."

"You already know your path," Olaf said. "I met people who were level 5 and still undecided as to what their Path was."

"But I am not really up for the kind of fights you are used to. You guys have far higher levels than me, yeah?” Saga said as they looked between the two.

“Level 23” Olaf said with a nod.

“Level 25” Vetra added, still holding Saga's hand.

Saga stared at them. "See. I am level 2. I might be level 3 by the time we reach Alebridge? Then what. I can't hang around you guys. I'd get killed."

“Lenara is only level 19. Although Ingrid is level 28 so I guess it evens out.” Olaf pondered then raised an eyebrow. "What? Do you think we just go from monster to monster and fight? Once we are in the city, we have lives to return to." He said with a chuckle.

“That's why we are bringing Sasha. She is level 5. She hasn't been in any pitched fights since getting here, so she has stagnated according to her aunt." Vetra added as Saga felt some tension run out of them. As if someone or something pushed through anxiety and disbanded all the disruptive thoughts.

{ Vetra has used "Soothing Touch. Your Mind and Sprit attributes have been temporarily fortified against mind and soul attacks. }

"The two of you also fight in a similar vein so you two can become a complete nightmare for opponents not ready for what you bring,” Olaf said, putting a giant hand on Saga's shoulder. "You are in good hands." Then he made for the bar as he saw Ingrid arrive.

“So. Are those two. You know.” Saga asked, nodding to Ingrid and Olaf.

“They think people don't know because they made sure to keep themselves in check during the trip North.” Vetra confirmed with a small laugh.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“I wonder how they’ll act once the pretending is done with.” Saga said, watching how Olaf and Ingrid leaned in very close when they spoke to one another.

“Absolutely obnoxious.” Ordans voice came from behind them. He leaned against the doorframe with that same easy grin as always. Saga appreciated the quick-witted mage a lot more in their own moments of gloom and second-guessing. Saga felt as if they could borrow some of his confidence just speaking to the man.

“You've spoken to the caravan leader then?” Vetra asked.

“Yes. They are more than thankful to have some extra muscle.” Ordans voice dropped a little as he got a dark look in his eyes. “The raiders hit another farm last night. Closer to the city.”

“That’s awfully bold. Bold is bad.” Vetra said.

“Gothwald is out there. I hope he is ok.” Saga said, concern rearing its ugly head.

“Gothwald is likely fine. He knows how to keep hidden and stay at a distance.” Ordan said before ordering them all a drink. He all but shoved the tankard of mead under Saga's chin as soon as it arrived. Ordan was a wine drinker, and most of the others preferred ale. Saga as it turned out, was absolutely hooked on mead.

“Anyways. I brought our berserker something. “ Ordan said as he fished out a pair of bracers in red and black leather. Runes were carved down the front. They looked relatively unremarkable, but Saga could feel that tingle they understood was magic at work. Slipping them on, a message popped up.

{ [Bracers of the Bear: Light armor] Provides a flat +2 to might. }

“Oh damn. Thanks, Ordan.” Saga threw their arms about his neck in a hug. Ordan let out a soft laugh as he shrugged and gently peeled them off when the hug threatened his breathing.

“You really need to get used to being a Brawn-focused person. Your hugs are gonna be deadly otherwise.” He said with a grin. As they took a seat at one of the vacant tables and ordered something to eat. In this case, it was some sort of massive chicken, that they shared between themselves. Ingrid and Olaf eat something at the bar while talking to Karn. Ordan told them Lenara was off somewhere else and would not be back until the day of their departure, which left only the three to talk. Ordan pointed to bracers again.

“With those, your brawn is currently on the level of nonphysical paths several levels above you. 16 brawn at level 2 is quite crazy. It should give you an ace up your sleeve, provided you can catch your opponent off guard.” Ordan said, clearly excited at the prospect of getting to watch Saga use said brawn on some unsuspecting foe.

“This wasn't too expensive, was it? I always feel bad when people spend money on me.” Saga asked, still staring at the bracers themselves.

“Relax, I can afford it. It’s a low-level trinket. Besides, once we are back in the city, you will have to handle things more on your own. We all have duties outside of vision quests, you know.”

"So Olaf already told me," Saga said with a soft sigh.

“He is right. As I told you before. That is part of why Sasha is coming along.” Vetra added.

“You’ll be fine. It’s a two weeks journey to Alebridge. It should be enough to get you to at least another level. Have you learned about the level plateaus yet?” Ordan said as he sipped on his little goblet of wine.

“Yeah. Every fifth level right? Olaf told me.” Saga confirmed, a bit curious as to what it meant for them more specifically.

“That’s right. It's why Sasha is stuck. Generally speaking, people don't start leveling past their first level until they are about twenty. As you need to figure out your path before you dedicate your time to leveling. And even then you generally just practice and gain levels slowly to make sure your proficiencies are right. By the time you hit 5 you are likely already in the mid-’20s unless you rushed and somehow managed not to get killed on the way.” Ordan spoke as he took a swig of wine.

“How old is Sasha?” Saga asked, an idea forming in the back of their head.

“About your age, I’d guess. You are what, somewhere around late 20’s” Vetra said as she tried to figure out saga's age just by looking at them.

“28. Yes.” Saga confirmed, not feeling their age. Here they felt younger because the aging was strange and not at all at the baseline of their old home.

“Then you are the same age,” Vetra said with a smile.

“But you said you generally hit level five in your early twenties. What kept her back?” Saga said as they remembered that was something Olga had said to. "Is the level plateau that brutal a switch?"

“She trained her fundamentals religiously under her aunt. But there is little in the way of challenge up here she can go face alone. You don't just level by beating things. You do it by pushing what you can, and following what your path pushes you to do.” Vetra said.

“Going out and trying to deal with a pack of wolves on her own would kill her. But a wolf on its own would barely count.”

“Then. If it's about following your own path, what about me? My path is that of the Berserker.”

“Yes.” Vetra gave an apologetic look. “Your path to advancement is pretty straightforward.”

Saga looked from one to another. The realization that was dawning on them wasn't much of a shock. But they needed the clarification. “My path is to fight, Isn't' it? More so than any of you. ”

“Not just fight. Your path is to stand in the thick of hordes of enemies.” Ordan said. “You need to be pushed to your limit. To properly test out your new inhuman endurance in combat.”

“That is fine.” Saga said in a clipped tone that made Ordan and Vetra exchange concerned glances. Saga's hands trembled in their lap as they remembered the dream. The entity had said they’d know war sooner or later. Where else would you be in the thick of it if not on an open battlefield? Saga had never been particularly violent. Just with a poor temperament. But here and now. In this place? They had felt so alive sparring with Sasha. They had survived an attack from an undead bear with nothing but panic and discarded spears. They were made for this. The old Saga was dead. The new Saga had a road to walk, a path set.

“Your road is very dangerous.” Ordan cautioned. “That’s why want to make sure you are as ready as possible.”

“And for that, I am incredibly thankful. I will take what help I can get.” Saga assured them. By now, their conversation had caught Olaf's attention and his voice boomed as he spoke for all to hear.

“Good! Then get ready for the worst three days of your life. Starting tomorrow, we’ll up the tempo.”