South Jaga City, Trade District – Year 1344, Month 1, Day 7. Spring

Olea Munroe

As my feet hit the hard-packed, dirt floor of the basement I took in my surrounding. The area was set up very much like the basement of the Bakers’. Shelves were built between the load-bearing beams of the shop above and upon each shelf was an assortment of odds and ends. Bags of what I assumed were spices and herbs were stacked in neat little rows, each one large enough to hold a large loaf of bread like those money bags in old heist films.

Scanning the ground, I soon found my prey; in the closest corner to the right, I saw the red-black form of a familiar species of rodent. Ratticus Deadicus, or as Help-Chan calls them, a cat-sized rodent. Bingo!

I watched it for several seconds as it busied itself clawing open a large bag of something, low lighting is so very bad for even my amazing deduction skills to work. It did not seem to be in a hurry, nor did it seem to in any way be concerned about a super-sneaky, silent assassin; and so, I began my approach. I moved silently ahead, my feet touching lightly upon the packed dirt creating barely a whisper as the leather of my shoes made contact. I drew my newly acquired Ratsbane from its fancy belt sheath, careful not to cut my belt from the ill-fitting trousers. I would really need to find a tailor… Focus! I was feet from the target when a sound caught my attention, and as such the attention of the rat.

I turned slightly to see a normal-sized orange tabby. The rat also saw the cat. I really don’t know what I expected, the cat was the same size as the rat and my mind was telling me the cat would murder this rat. Seems I was mistaken. The cat hissed, the rat hissed, I failed to remain quiet as my brain shut down and laughed. It was so unreal. That’s when it got worse, both the cat and the rat turned to stare at me.

“What? I just got here.” I said to the audience.

Both cat and rat growled at me, and then at one another. This is when I noticed a few new pairs of eyes gleaming from beneath the corner shelf. Dammit. So much for the gnomes claim of no rats.

I jumped forward instead of waiting for the inevitable attack from these dirty rats, I was not looking forward to needing new clothes. Why did I not grab armor before I left the hall. I’m having some rat fur armor made after this, I wonder if there is a tanner nearby… Crap! I ducked as a rat jumped from the upper shelf, Déjà vu, eh?

It was at this moment that the cat realized it was in over its head and bolted. I could see the orange blur as it leapt the entire height of the short stairway. I surround myself with cowardly allies and opportunistic enemies. I needed an agent, or a good workforce to pull from. Mental memo added.

Another rat took my brief lack of focus as a sign of weakness and jumped for my legs. Too bad I learned that lesson already. Turning sideways against the wall, I watched as the rat lunged past me, its head turning to look at me as it passed. I took this time to swing Ratsbane up into the side of the rat catching it mid-air, as the blade entered, I relaxed my wrist while keeping the grip tight to allow the rat’s momentum to carry it off the blade before it could latch onto my hand. Again, it’s good to remember my past errors and save my sleeves.

You have killed: cat-sized rodent [Level 5] …

“Save it Help-Chan, little busy here.” I said to the air, causing the rats to pause for almost a full second as if awaiting further chit-chat.

I pushed away from the wall and lunged for another rat as he was positioning for a jump for the upper shelf. I may point out at this time that the upper shelf for a gnome is somewhat closer to the ground than ones made for a human of most heights. I was not too short to benefit from the little extra reach required to impale the oily-haired blight. My blade went easily through its flesh, parting the flesh like wet tissue. I also took a few moments to appreciate the fact that Doogie had shown me a few proper methods for stabbing with short blades, I do believe I may have lucked out surviving my first encounter with the world’s weaker monster population.

Two rats down, a few to go. I counted the three in front of me and saw no signs of others, so I began stepping sideways along the rows of shelves. I was hoping the rats would split up and come from different directions. It is not wise to be caught in a pincer move but I remembered the effect of having multiple rats all charge at once. I was able to mend the flesh in my abdomen easily, but I could just have easily picked up a not so lovely scar from the last run-in. Scars don’t break a person, but I would avoid them if I could. Dragon battle wounds, sure. Trying to impress people with scars obtained fighting rats, not so cool.

It turns out I was somewhat lucky as the rats made for a follow the leader approach, the larger one stepping up with the two others following nose to tail behind. I back up and lowered my center by bending my knees as I awaited the charge. The lead rat rushed forth along the floor as the second in line leapt in the air. I knelt with the dagger in hand and brought it down hard forcing the blade through the rat’s spinal column and into the dirt underneath. The second rat soared overhead, almost snagging in my hair, loving the short pixie cut. I moved sideways as rat number three moved to jump the shish kabobbed rat as it jerked about helplessly trying to escape its creeping death. Rat number two lunged from behind me just as I dodged rat number three and there was this moment where they met in midair, mouths open ready to bite down on me and instead showing a pucker up moment as they face planted into one another.

With my knife still embedded in the ground, stupid move. I continued my sideways jump-fall hitting the wooden shelf hard. Pain blossomed in my elbow and shoulder reminding me again that I needed some form of armor. The last of the rats were still collecting their wits as I got to my feet, had to get my knife back, or find a new weapon. I scanned the area, my weapon was still embedded in rat number one, too close to the tangle of rat flesh that was orienting toward me.

There!

I moved quickly past the struggling shish-ka-rat and grabbed the first thing I had noticed, a wooden mallet. I was hoping the storekeeper would sanitize this mess when I finished up, that also led me to think about whether the jobs hall sent people down to clean these things up or if it was left up to the building occupants. Meh, next time I would ask.

I hefted the mallet, a sizable tool the shaft was nearly two foot in length and two inches in diameter with the top being more of a drum the size of large metal coffee can. It felt like a hammer you would find at an arcade, just a huge whack-a-mole stick.

I turned after firming my grip on the shaft, calm thoughts. The rats were moving slowly and steadily, maybe they did not like being so friendly and were trying to avoid further embarrassment. Rats, right?

I was at a loss as to how to make use of my mallet, the smooth wood felt good in my hands, but I did not quite know how to employ its mass in a way that would be useful. Slamming it down was obvious but Id be very close to the rats if I missed, thinking about sports in general I swapped my grip to a more baseball bat appropriate style before moving my right hand up a bit for balance. The rats charged forth; I say charged but the distance was still only a few feet. A few rat lengths?

As they got within striking distance I swung, not sideways but back and down in a circular motion before turning making a very amateur attempt at a hole in two, I had never golfed before and right then it became obvious that I should never attempt to do so on this world or any other. The mallet did most of the work on the downward swing gaining momentum as it dropped while my grip made it swing pendulum like, almost clipping my own ankles as it ponderously moved through the air. The rats did not see the incoming danger as the mallets’ rounded smooth head contacted their heads, twenty pounds of wooden, splatter power brought fully to bare.

Two things happened after that. First the mallet flew from my hands after contacting the attackers, rolling end over end after depositing them in the dirt. Secondly the momentum of the spin carried me onward, now off balanced from losing the weight of the hammer I did a little pinwheel before falling on my bum, to a wet crunching sound.

Another smaller rodent had been sneaking up behind me when I fell ending its miserable life of stalking. The rats in front of me were a mixed bag, the first Ratty to contact the mallet was a mess, its head smashed in oddly as it breathed ragged breathes from a blood-red, froth covered nose. Ratty two was currently moving in a daze with a broken leg attempting to scurry away from the fight. Nope. Not letting my little bag of experience escape.

I stood up, trying not to pay much attention to the wet and warm sensation from my pants. I was unhappy after managing to stay somewhat clean through this ordeal only to be soiled in a very undignified manner. I moved toward the dazed rat stopping to free Ratsbane from its dying sheath on the floor. It came free with a gurgling SLURK. Satisfying. I cleanly severed the neck of the dazed runner, its token resistance laughable if not for my wardrobe crisis occupying the emotional parts of my mind. I finished off the barely breathing rat soon after, making sure no other rodents lived in the basement.

One site down, a few to go.

I spent the next three hours climbing down into murky basements or scouting refuse pits, scouring this section of the district clean of the rodent scourge. I found several more nests like the first I had encountered though none had so many issues. I met several nice people and several not so happy people. A demi-dwarf tried hiring me out as a cleaning boy at one point as he clearly mistook me for both a vagrant and a boy, not difficult when covered in foul muck, dirt, and crusted blood. Sicily was correct in the need of a good soak after my fun.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

I had very little need for my healing ability aside from the injury obtained falling on a rake. Occupational hazards, I guess. As the afternoon progressed, I even learned a few new things about my Sneak skill. I had noticed the small nudges quickly and even the feel of my surroundings when actively employing the skill with a channeled thought of the Stealth abilities. It seemed to also dampen sound that originated with me. A falling pebble would clatter about, making small sharp sounds with each contact with a hard surface. However, when I knocked a pebble loose on a flight of stairs or scraped a corner roughly the sound was muted, causing the sounds to echo strangely in my ears as if it were passing through a dampening field. The pebble did not even cause the critters in one basement to notice until the third bounce, leading me to believe that the magic at work was only in use some of the time.

After assuring the locals of the recent purge, I made my way back to the Jobs Hall. The sun had marched further along than I had anticipated, a hazy orange-purple stripe shown as a bar across the horizon. Nearly nightfall, fantastic. Up the street I marched, getting an entirely different sort of look from the meandering people on the streets. Where before I had seen looks of concern or disgust as people noticed my bloodied clothes, now marred as I was with various discolored stains, I could still sense some gazes hiding a covetous or more sinister intent. It was then that I remembered Keen and Lenn hinting at the fact that girls are rarely seen on the streets near dark and tended to vanish in the night. Was I worried? Not so much at this moment with so many eyes on me, but I did imagine that very soon I would start to invest in a healthy dose of paranoia.

I entered the Hall from the side door, greeting the guards as they played at a table. They must have recognized me from the earlier shenanigans as I heard a few whispers of Ratsbane and some soft chuckling. It felt good to be recognized. I did not mind in the slightest, let my legend start small and humble. Some day I would claim the title of Dragons Bane and drown in adoration.

I soon found the hallway leading to the bathing rooms. A small cabinet with towels of varying colors, mostly grays and off-white, sat against the wall. A small pile of slim soap bars and an assortment of brushes lay on a table beside it.

I grabbed a thick-bristled brush, two bars of soap, and two towels before heading into the second unoccupied room I found. I skipped the first as the room adjacent to it was emitting a strong scent of something other. I did not want to be so close to that smell for long, as I am sure no one would want to be near me now.

Upon entering the room, I found a medium sized pool of clear water in the center with several grates installed in the floor under what looked like a shower but turned out to be more like a water sluice. Small benches were arranged neatly in several places throughout the room for sitting and scrubbing before the bath. It almost seemed like I was at an Asian style bath house.

I disrobed, lamenting the ruin I found my new clothes in. After pulling the release in the ceiling I felt the cold-water flow down on my nude form. Frigid! After a few mouth chattering moments of numbness, I took to a bench and scrubbed, and scrubbed, and scrubbed. The soap was very thick, leaving a film on the skin that I really had to work on to remove. The bristles of the thick horse brush I grabbed proved very good in removing the caked-on grime though I would have given my pinky toe for a good comb. My hair was a mess, dirt, dust, grease, and a little more stuff I did not truly know the names for were steadily removed with the water as I lathered the rough soap in. Another point for the short hair. After I was good and free of detritus, I pulled the sluice open and gritted my teeth against the cold water flowing down to wash away my filth.

I stood then and made my way to the water to soak away my day, this seemed almost sinful after my life so far in this world. A warm soak in a pool of clean water after a long day’s work. Yep, definitely sinful.

I took notice of the large mirror on the far wall and decided I would have a look at myself, what I saw gave me pause. In the mirror my reflection screamed pixie-punk. I judged my height somewhere near five foot even, slender waist with toned muscles and skin of an almost olive color fitting my given name. My bust was underwhelming after so much exposure to buxom supermodels and the celebrities of now we were all forced to see everywhere on earth. Everywhere except in a real-world situation. I sat firmly in low b-cup status. My stomach was not washboard perfect, but I could not see any evidence of overeating, I’d need to be careful of the free guildhall food. My hair was strange, I had thought it dark, but it was a mix of bright, vivid purple and black so dark it appeared to be liquid under the candlelight. I would say that my hair was the color of a raven’s feathers, complete with shifting glitter-like strands of blue green. It was currently just long enough to almost cover my slightly tapered ears. As for my face I could not say, if I had to put it into words, I would say I was average. Completely average. My nose was small without being small. Not quite a button. My eyes were evenly centered, no sloping forehead, no jutting chin. It was perfectly average with only a small indication of a point to my chin with slightly elevated cheekbones. Though those eyes, they were truly blue, a cobalt bordering on cyan and glowing in the flickering light.

“Wow,” I muttered. “Sicily didn’t have a chance.”

I shrugged away my musings and dropped into the water, luxuriating only for a few moments as I focused on my day of gains.

“Let’s see the footage.” I spoke.

…

…

…

“Help-Chan, are you there?” I ask.

“I am here.”

“Could I see the information from earlier now, please.”

“As you wish.” Came the reply, I detected a small amount of impishness creeping into the voice.

You have killed: cat-sized rodent 9[Level 2], 5[Level 3], 2[level 4], 5[Level 5], 1[Level 6], 3[Level 8]. Experience Earned: Level multiplied by base of 50, bonus for each level above current level +10%.

Total Experience Gained: 6680, Experience Till Next Level 5260.

You have advanced to level 3:

Minor regeneration bonus applied, three free attribute points gained, six free skill points gained. You now have access to increased system information.

Your soul has undergone a level of strengthening:

Removing Seals on your Triumvirate Soul: Abilities Unlocked.

Soul Link, Vessel of Souls, Dowsing.

Advance further to empower yourself and unlock more abilities.

“That’s a lot for one level. And almost one hundred levels worth of monster killed to finish one level.” I was starting to understand the seemingly low level of the everyday citizen with each passing moment.

I had gained enough to learn up to six new skills, bringing my total to nine. The addition of three attribute points was also a welcome influx in my ability to survive though I would still need to decide where to use them. It may have been easier in video games where you could always reset your statistics or reload a save file when you went the wrong way with character development but having one shot to get it all right made me feel slightly pressured. From the way it looked I would see a great increase in points allotted to me every few levels, milestones rewards maybe. I had noticed the whole obsession with threes in this world.

“What is the deal with the soul stuff?” I asked.

…

…

“That was a question for you, Help-chan.”

“Right.”

“An answer would be?” I asked for clarity.

“As one of three unique entities in this world you are blessed with a unique power. This power encompasses the whole of your soul. It was only able to be applied to you as you transitioned from your world to this one. You and your fellows will all gain abilities relating to the power of your soul as you advance, as this power is new to the world my own understanding of it is limited to your own ability to investigate. As the skills become available, I will be able to discern the truth of them, but as to the nature of future skill I am nearly as lost as you.”

“Okay then. More stuff for later.” Nothing to do but wait and see. I sat there in a near vegetative state for nearly an hour. I say nearly an hour as I totally lost track of time, I may even have been beginning to doze off when my musings were interrupted by a knock at the door.

“You alive in there?” came a curious voice from outside.

“I think so!” I yelled back as I climbed from the water, lightly draping a towel over myself.

“You think so miss?” came the now confused voice from the other side.

“Yes, I think so! Thank you for your concern.” I answered back. Sicily told me the baths were respectably private, we would have words.

“If you are sure then…” came the reluctant reply.

“Quite sure.” I said to the door. By now I had already wrapped my hair in a towel and dried it off. More or less. The clothing was not going back on. Ever. It was then that I realized I had left my change of clothes elsewhere. Dammit.

I walked to the door, aware that I was not modestly attired and threw it open as the ever-concerned teenager was turning to leave. He was a slightly taller lad, muscular if not gangly, post-teen stubble without the full covering that develops in most men before the age of twenty-five. He had brown hair with steel-grey eyes. Eyes that were growing larger as he took in my state of undress.

“Goddess…” he stammered.

“Right, right. Jacket.” I said as I looked at him. He had a slightly oversized leather jacket on. With a button down front and a high collar it could really help me keep the looks or at least the glimpses of myself by others at a minimum.

“Jacket?” He asked, I think I broke another one.

“Yep. Jacket. Your jacket, could I borrow it for a while?” I was hoping this could be over quickly. It’s hard to look calm and collected when you are not close to being calm and collected. I cannot believe I forgot my clothes! ARGH!

“Oh.” He said smartly. I saw his eyes go up and down my body, barely changing from the large grey saucer shape they had taken on. “OH! Yes, yes. Here take it!”

There was a bit of a time delay and then some fumbling as he hurriedly took his jacket off. Lots of fumbling with the two buttons that had been in use as well as several not-so-hidden glances at me from under his arms as he unwrapped it from his body. I could not bring myself to blame the guy, I was being somewhere rude and quite demanding of a total stranger.

After he handed off the jacket he stood there. I stood there, we stood there. I continued glaring at him for a few moments before I wrapped the jacket around myself and secured every button, most were missing which explains his lack of use on that front. I wiggled the towel down my body to cover my lack of modesty and finally caught the guy as his brain turned back on.

He glanced at me, the towel, his jacket, and then at the floor as he turned about.

“Thanks for the jacket…” I drew out the end of my statement.

“You’re welcome, miss.” He said to the opposite side of the hallway. Ugh. I’m and ass.

“You can turn around now,” I said after making sure everything was settled in. “Do you have a name?”

“Henry, miss.” Was the formal reply. He was blushing, quite a bit too.

“Not miss, my name is Olea.” I said, extending a hand to greet him.

“Olea, yah. Okay.” He extended his own hand as we shook, causing the towel to fall. Being small sucks! No holder uppers at all.

His face reddened yet again as I said, “Nice to meet you Henry, I’ll be leaving now.”

“Right, okay.” Was all I heard as I made my way past the guy and through the door. I made it up the stairs and into the girls’ section of the dorms before shrugging out of the rough jacket. I grabbed a pair of breeches and a simple shirt to wear from the large closet and found an empty cot for the night. I really need to start investing in a tailor. And armor. And maybe another new hat. These mundane thoughts circled my mind as I drifted off to sleep.