Getting back was simple. Getting there in perfect shape is not so simple. Turns out this body might be my real age but the body still has the skin of a newborn, meaning I have no callouses from my previous life so when we returned my hands and feet had enough popped blisters to make even a monster to feel pity. But I digress. The pain sucks but the coins we will get from the goblin loot has my eyes shining in obvious greed. Dragging the weapons to the blacksmith we watch as the burly man shifts through the weapons with a slight frown but in the end, he just harrumphs.
“fifteen coppers for the armor and thirty five for all the weapons.” The price seems kind of low, like really low. Just a copper piece per goblin low. Owen doesn’t look so happy with the price either.
“Make it sixty five for everything and you got a deal.” I said. Thinking this is the perfect time to bargain like in some of the fantasy books I read but Owen shoots me a glare and quickly speaks up.
“Fifty coins sounds good, we’ll take it!” Now it’s my turn to shoot Owen a glare. We are so getting underpaid for risking our lives, even if it is voluntary.
The blacksmith grabs a coin pouch from somewhere behind him and tosses it over to Owen with an ugly grin and a wink at me. I wish I could hit the guy, winking at me like that? Oh no, I will get my revenge someday…if I remember him later.
Owen just walks out of the shop and I follow. Not even fifteen steps away Owen whirls to face me.
“What the hell was that about!” I nearly shouted. Owen just sighs in his own disappointment.
“Bargaining in villages is a quick way to not make money. There is only one per a profession and the shop owner will just refuse to sell or buy from you and pass the word along to other shop owners that your cheap and some other untruthful rumors." Owen shakes his head slowly as he releases a sigh before continuing. "Large towns and cities is where we can find a halfway decent price but large towns and any halfway decent city is in places for those of D ranks and better,” Owen takes a breath in the mist of his long-winded speech, takes a gulp of his water skin and begins, once again. “We got a long way to go, no doubt about that but until were off this continent it’s going to be dog eat shit type of world or at least that is what my God says.”
Owen having finally finishes takes a few more gulps of his water skin after handing me twenty five coins as my share from yesterday. What Owen just said though is something to worry about but this is like the fiftieth time that Owen said his god told him something, when do I get conversations with my damn God!
Just when will I be able to ask how I felt refreshed halfway through the battle or how to use his domains and so on…I have so many questions on how to get powerful but my main question is what the fuck am I supposed to do! Live life like Mary Poppins? Or Little Debbie as she stuffed her face in baked sweets? Do I just live life and the gods watch it as if I’m the main actor in a movie or am I the side character that people forget? If we're the Gods’ entertainment then I guess we're all the actors and the Gods’ the audience, if what I’m thinking is true I don’t want to be stuck as some sort of side character everyone forgets two seconds after seeing them on screen. No, I want to be that guy, that guy who always looks badass even when he fails, the same guy who makes all the bold and right decisions but most of all I want to be the guy that gets the girls, or even that one guy in Shameless who gets two girls!
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
If I managed to woo two women I could die happy, hell even just one is fine but it’s still unlikely. I was the guy who didn’t stand out, except for my size. The girls always wanted my best friend, he was skinny like a twig but he the boy band pretty boy looks that girls just can’t help but like. Had I dropped eighty pounds back then I would look how I do now minus the horns and tail but I guess thinking of my previous life is pointless. I’m never going to see anyone from their again, I mean hell, I was in Tartarus for who knows how long. Probably swirling around Zeus’s papa. At least I don’t have to worry about my looks anymore, I’m skinny and I got the ruggedly handsome devil thing going for me and the best part I stayed my old skin tone. Slightly white with a good ole natural born tan. Damn, I’m sad.
Owen left me behind after giving me my share of the coins, where for the last two minutes I was looking off into the sky and thinking to myself. Realizing I’m looking like I’m mentally handicapped with drool escaping through the sides of my mouth I go to the inn where I find some paper and chalk. It’s time to put my goals on paper while I remake my goals. Let’s add women in there, take out this and that and done!
No Name’s Goals
1) Get a name
2) Learn how to use a weapon to some effectiveness
3) Find and learn how to use my abilities
4) Forget leather, it stinks to high hell, get bath looking robes. Comfortable/no stink and easy to toss over cotton clothes
5) Become strong enough for girls to fall for me instantly.
And rich, girls love money
Having finally realized I have no name and I can’t remember my old one I need to make one or find one, preferably a name that rolls right off the tongue, cool, and smooth. However, I’m an idiot, writing with blistered hands is annoying. Yup, I am an idiot. Maybe I should run a name through Owen or I can start listing names but this can be done later since I have some money and I can now finally buy things. Preferably robes, bath robe style just without the sash, comfortable and convenient along with something I can just swing around. Swords require finesse, so do spears and staffs although staffs can become quite the whacker as seen in Lord of The Rings, well at least in the movies.
Having wide shoulders, thick bones that make my arms look even larger, I need a Warhammer! Hell, my spear became a stick in my first fight in this world, I think a Warhammer can suite me quite well. I can just imagine myself now, with a sledge hammer looking hammer, just with a giant sledge on the end, like in the cartoons or the carnival strength test, I need a two-handed mallet yet light enough to keep smashing for as long as I need. Or a studded club, simillar to a bat, but won't break. First, lets get comfortable clothes.
Cross out three, check mark next to two. Done and done. Now I need a name, I’m tired of ‘HEY’. My subsitute name is 'HEY', and i'm tired of it but It just feels so wrong giving myself a name. Makes one wonder if transvestites name themselves, or is it their lover? Well, a name, a name, and for god fucking sake, I need a name!