As he trudged up the narrow tunnel towards the surface, he studiously ignored the detritus squelching beneath him.

Some time later, he approached the Taran city gates, happy to see that the same two guards were there. He drew near, and opened his arms wide in challenge.

“Well, so I couldn’t do it then? Those goblins were weak,” he said, noting the expressions of shock and concealed anger on the guards’ faces. Sighing, they opened the gates behind them, letting him into the city. As the rusted iron gates creaked outwards, the city was slowly revealed, not that it could be really called a city. The ground was covered in trash, and the air was pervaded with the scent of rot. This was a town that had seen better days, although those days had probably still been dismal. The few denizens of the town looked up at him suspiciously before returning to their own paths, ignoring him.

He walked into the city, and kept his eyes out for what he was looking for, food, water, and equipment. Now that he had some money, those things were within his reach. It was about ten blocks by five, and the houses were squat and low to the ground, with none of them taller than the wall. In the center of the town was a two story building, but even that was not any taller than the dark stone fortifications around the city. There was probably a reason for that.

A nearby building seemed to have many more patrons than the rest, and Jonathan walked cautiously up to it, hearing the noises of muffled carousing coming from within. Even those noises seemed deadened and dreary however, and the pervasive atmosphere of gloom that suffused this town was present even here. Jonathan walked into the tavern, and drew the eyes of everyone in there. The reasons were twofold. One, he was a newcomer to this town, presumably a rarity in these parts. Nobody in their right minds would leave the safety of a town, not even to come to another. Secondly, he was covered in blood and viscera, and his shirt was missing. However, compared to some of the people here, he seemed comparatively well off. Quite a few men and women, of all sorts of exotic races, sported large masses of scar tissue, and their clothes were hardly in any better shape than his own. Ignoring the stares, he walked up the bar, making sure to skirt the patches of sticky liquid on the ground. Those were most likely from beer, but they could be worse. When he reached the bar, a greasy looking man with a thin mustachio sidled up, raising one eyebrow at Jonathan.

“A newcomer, I see. I’m surprised that the guards let you by. Those two hardasses barely let anything fun happen around here.” The man shot his eyes over to the side, and Jonathan followed, laying eyes on a pair of scantily clad reptile women, both of whom were eyeing him up with hunger on their faces. He shook his head and looked back at the bartender, who seemed a little bit disappointed.

“I'm not here for cheap thrills,” Jonathan said, letting an edge into his voice. “I want supplies for my journey. Food, water, and some sort of proper clothing.”

“Huh. I can supply the first two, but for the latter, you’ll need to talk with Tom. Just a friendly warning, he can be a bit grumpy at this time of the day.” The man pointed at a swarthy fellow down in his cups at the end of the bar. As Jonathan studied him, he realized that Tom was a dwarf, or at least something similar to that.

Jonathan walked slowly down by the bar, avoiding the careening drunks that lined it. One of them tried to reach for his pockets, but Jonathan slapped her hand out of the way, not sparing her a second glance. The woman blinked once, and then went back to her drink. Jonathan shook his head, and made it to his target without any further incident. Clearing his throat when Tom remained recalcitrantly buried in his drink, he prompted the man to look at him with an evil expression.

“What the hell do you want, boy? I’m a busy man here. Leave me alone.”

Stolen story; please report.

“Yeah, busy drinking your life away?” Jonathan had dealt with people like this in the past, and the best way to break through to them was by flaring their emotions. Tom snarled and rose unsteadily to his feet, almost falling over. Jonathan calmly put out his hand, steadying the man. All he got for his efforts was an angry punch that came nowhere near hitting him.

“Are you quite done? I was told that you're the man to talk to for general supplies,” Jonathan continued. The dwarf looked up at him with a crafty expression in his face, one that was not marred by his inebriated state.

“Eh? What’s that to you? You got money to spend?” Tom asked, smiling creepily. Jonathan nodded at the dwarf, who lit up suddenly with a radiant smile. “Well, why didn't you say that before? Come with me,” he said a moment later, his voice cheerful. The dwarf stumbled towards the door, and Jonathan haplessly followed him, noting that everyone else in the tavern seemed to be laughing at him. He had no idea of the various social dichotomies here, and hoped that he had not gotten himself into a bad situation. As soon as they left the tavern, he was suddenly beset by a band of dwarves, each wielding a small ax. The day was rapidly turning to night, and their features were hidden from Jonathan.

“What’s the meaning of this?” He spluttered, watching as Tom turned to face him.

“The only supplies that you’ll be getting out of here is your life, and that's if you're lucky. Hand over all your money, or these streets will run red with your blood,” Toim said, the cheerful note in his voice gone, with the drunkenness having disappeared.

Jonathan sighed.

“This was all a ruse, wasn't it? The bartender points me to you, and then as soon as we get out of the bar, then you rob me and give him a cut? At least you weren't like the last would be criminal I had to deal with. He didn't wait until we were out of the bar…”

Before the dwarves could respond to that statement, Jonathan was already upon the nearest one, darting past a hasty swipe of the man’s ax and burying his fist into his face. The small man went tumbling backwards, blood spurting up from his ruined nose. Jonathan danced backwards as two axes whistled through the space he had just occupied, and he began to send mana to his hands. The two balls of concentrated energy popped into existence on the ends of his fists, and he began swinging at the dwarves, driving them back in fear of his power.

As he did this, he quickly analyzed all of them, finding that out of them, only Tom was even over level 15. The rest of them were lower level than him, and with his bonuses, that meant that they were far weaker than him, far weaker than their levels indicated. Fighting with them was like swimming through a placid lake, as opposed to the shark infested waters of the monster elites that he had dealt with before. It was almost enjoyable. He made sure not to kill any of them, not wanting to stir up any animus in the town. He was confident against this small band, but if the entire town got together, he was dead. Sidestepping a punch, Jonathan grabbed onto the offending arm and wrenched it past its effective range of motion, pulling it out of its socket. The dwarf in front of him grunted in pain and Jonathan quickly sent him packing with a devastating haymaker that took him out of the fight. At this point, only Tom was left, and the dwarf seemed a lot less cocky than he had before. Jonathan raised one eyebrow at him, and began to advance.

“H-hey. Wait, there's no need to be so hasty. How about I give you some things, free of charge, and you let me walk away from here?” Tom said, his voice quivering. Jonathan paused, and pretended that he was mulling over it, although his decision had already been made. He would go along with the dwarf, but first, it was time for a little payback. As he nodded his assent, he stepped forwards and punched the man as hard as he could in the stomach, lifting him off his feet and slamming him into a wall. The dwarf grunted as the air was forced out of his body, and Jonathan withdrew his hands to let him fall, gasping, to the filthy ground.

“I’ll take you up on that offer, but I would advise more caution in the future from you, Tom,” he replied, spitting out the dwarf’s name. “The next traveler might not be as lenient as me.”

Tom got to his feet, spitting out blood, and nodded in fear, meekly skirting around Jonathan.

“Alright then. Come with me,” he said, once his voice was back.