Terry glared at Analina and fumed internally. This wasn’t quite the “heroism won’t pay the bills” trope, but it was definitely a kissing cousin to it. He mused to himself, is there an underfunded Guild hall trope? That assumed that this Guild hall was underfunded. The problem might be him unintentionally embodying some kind of overenthusiastic monster hunter trope. Except, he hadn’t been overenthusiastic. He’d been ambushed by pack predators. He literally couldn’t stop until he was dead, they were dead, or the pack ran away.

You were not ambushed, noted other-Terry. You were inattentive. Those are not the same things.

I don’t need that kind of negativity, snapped Terry.

Maybe not, but you absolutely needed a reality check.

Your snark has been noted and will be punished, growled Terry.

Oh, I tremble in fear, said other-Terry in a bland monotone.

Terry went back to ignoring that other voice in his head that was definitely an A.I. pretending to be something other than an A.I. Analina was shuffling in place, clearly trying to come up with something to say that would mollify Terry’s clear aggravation at this particular revelation. He sighed and softened his expression a little.

“This can be the first time something like this has happened. How does the Guild usually handle it?”

Looking deeply relieved, Analina said, “Well, it sort of depends on you. If you only want gold, I can give you some now and put it in a request with the Guild to supply the rest. The dire wolves were recorded in the Guild records, so might take a month or two, but you will get paid.”

“Okay, that sounds like there’s some other options.”

“There are. We do have some minor treasures that we can give out. Weapons, healing potions, that sort of thing. I’m not sure we have anything valuable enough to cover what we owe you completely, but it would offset some of the balance. The other option is that you take a credit with the Guild.”

Terry was familiar with concepts of credit from his old world. Still, it was dangerous to rely on that knowledge to inform any interactions involving money in this world. He narrowed his eyes at Analina.

“And just what does that entail?” he asked.

“In essence, you hold a balance with the Guild. You could use it to, for example, get some gold at another hall if you’re traveling and find yourself short of funds. It can pay for a stay at Guild hall if you take a room there. You can also use it to get treasures at other Guild halls.”

“Like potions and weapons,” said Terry.

“Like potions and weapons,” agreed Analina.

So, he thought, it’s like having a deposit with a bank that’s also a specialty shop for adventurers. All in all, it wasn’t a terrible deal. Sure, the money wasn’t earning interest, but he hadn’t seen anything like a bank. For all he knew, the concept of interest hadn’t even been invented yet in this world. For a moment, he fantasized about becoming a banking tycoon in Chinese Period Drama Hell but swiftly dismissed that idea. He was having enough trouble securing his own life. He did not feel at all confident about fending off the kind of trouble that would come if he was trying to secure other people’s money.

Terry was also not thrilled with the idea of having to store all of his money in a pouch he carried around or in his home. He once again shook a mental fist at the sky for the dearth of bags of holding and other extra-dimensional mechanisms. That would have solved his money storage problem. So, there would be advantages to taking the Guild credit, especially if he planned on leaving the area. Of course, he’d just bought land and a house. Traveling was not high on his list of priorities. It didn’t help that trouble seemed to find him whenever he traveled. Not that trouble was doing its part and avoiding him now that he wasn’t traveling either.

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Of course, if he took the credit, it also meant that he didn’t have the money. Not really. He could get it, eventually, but it wasn’t a concrete thing in his possession that he could immediately trade for a sack of potatoes or, if the gods were merciful, give to the blessed merchant who would one day show up with celery. He mentally hemmed and hawed about it as he tried to weigh the pros and cons. The real issue in front of him was the same one he’d faced since day one. His ignorance about this world forced him to rely on assumptions he’d formed in his old life about how things worked. He only had a general grasp on the value of money in his new home. That made it damned difficult to make good financial choices.

When he was constantly on the move, it had mattered less. He’d learned the hard way that he could survive in the untamed wilderness. He didn’t really need money. It was nice and made things easier when he came into a town, but he could get by without it. Plus, he usually killed something in the wilderness that was worth something. Enough to buy food or a night at an inn at the very least. While he’d never owned a home back on Earth, he’d known people who did. He’d learned vicariously from them that there was always some problem that needed to be fixed, and it always cost twice as much as they had budgeted for that kind of repair.

There was also that inconvenient army of monsters to consider. What if they burned down his house? While he gave himself decent odds of surviving an invasion or attack, he didn’t know the first thing about building a house. He had to assume it would be expensive. How expensive? Who the hell knew? After he went in mental circles about that for a while, he finally just took a piece of advice about decision-making he’d heard somewhere. In the end, making any decision was better than vacillating about the decision indefinitely. If he made the wrong call, he’d just have to learn from it and do better the next time.

“Fine,” he muttered. “I’ll take the credit.”

“I’ll make a note of it,” said Analina.

Her lack of surprise told him that this was apparently a common choice among adventurers. That made him wonder just how much money the Guild saved this way every year. Probably a lot. They might have to pay it out eventually, but hanging onto to that money even for a while was a good buffer against disaster. It made him consider again if the shortage of cash on hand was intentional. He wondered how they handled it if an adventurer died. It was a dangerous line of work. Rank five and rank four adventurers probably died pretty regularly. Did the Guild just keep the money and erase the credit from their books? Did they try to find next of kin to pay it out? As he followed Analina deeper into the Guild hall, he decided to ask.

“What happens to the credit if I die?”

“You can designate someone to receive the balance. Most adventurers pick a family member, but some will pick an organization.”

“Like what?” asked Terry.

“Some pick the Church. I know that some adventurers will do something like adopt an orphanage and support it. I even heard about one man who designated a brothel to receive his balance if he ever died,” said Analina with a disapproving roll of her eyes.

“Really?”

“He said that he’d received excellent service there. It was his money, so to each their own.”

“I guess,” said Terry.

He had a hard time imagining even going into a brothel, let alone leaving what amounted to his life savings to one. Although, he supposed he might be importing some vague Puritan biases from his old world where brothels were illegal in most places. It wasn’t the sort of business he’d have ever thought to ask about. That made their status here a little hazy, but he hadn’t gotten the impression that they were illegal. They just weren’t well thought of by others. He shrugged that thought off. Like Analina said, to each their own. It wasn’t his job to worry about brothels. Like many other things in this world, that was a problem for someone not named Terry.

He collected some money from Analina. It worked out to about a third of what they theoretically owed him. He specifically asked to get some of it in silver and bronze coins. Gold coins were pretty enough, but he doubted anyone but the Guild, the Church, or a noble could actually make change for one. That made them pretty useless for everyday needs. Which, he realized, probably also explained why this particular, rural Guild hall couldn’t afford to pay him. Keeping that much gold on hand would be pointless because no normal person could use it here. He’d have to go to a bigger city to find places that carried things that would be priced in gold.

Something he might need to do, now that he thought about it. His current weapons were adequate, but he had no illusions that they were high-end. He’d likely outgrow them if he kept getting stronger. There was also that monster army to think about. If he had to fight a hundred monsters all wearing armor and carrying heavy weapons, he’d likely destroy his swords before he was done fighting. He didn’t like the idea of going to another city. His experiences with population centers so far were less than ideal. Still, he liked the idea of not being able to adequately protect himself even less. If some church assholes or noble assholes decided to pick a fight, he’d just have to deal with it.

“So, where do I go to get some better weapons?” he asked.