A blinding light jolts me awake as I lay on the cracked stonework floor. Still groggy, I stumble to my feet and am assaulted by a bored sounding voice.
"Through the door and turn right. Go down the hall and take a left. C'mon kid move it."
"W-what?" I answer back, still more than a little bit confused.
"Get moving, we haven't got all day." The gruff older man says and points with his gauntleted hand at the open wooden door.
*Wait, is he a knight? Just where the hell am I?!*
Nodding I followed the knight's directions, and in the next room was an elven woman seated at a large wooden table piled high with scrolls and books.
"Name, age, and realm of origin?" She said with a sigh, as if I was the hundredth person she had asked today.
"I uhhh."
With an exasperated scowl she repeated the same questions again.
"Uh, Miras Gens, age 23, and I don't know.."
Her pointed ears twitched at that last part, and with another sigh she began scribbling on a piece of parchment.
After a few more curt questions, the not-quite-interrogation portion of my fantasyland DMV visit seemed to be over.
The still unnamed elf directed me down another set of rough stonework hallways to another room with a few robed wizards or mages.
"Stand in the circle on the floor, feet shoulder width apart. Do not move, do not speak, do not do anything until you are directed otherwise." One of the mages said, sounding more like a bored carnival ride operator than a wise old sage.
*And keep all arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times.* I thought as I trudged into the center of the magical circle.
The mages all raised their glowing hands as they began to chant in some arcane language before quickly stopping.
"You have no magical potential whatsoever." The first mage said, sounding rather surprised. "Actually I don't think I've ever seen readings this low. Did the realm you came from have any magic?"
"Erm, not really. Mostly con men and old legends." I replied, a bit confused.
"Uh huh, well you won't be a mage, can you swing a sword at least?"
"Not really, I don't think I've seen one outside pictures or museums and stuff."
With a sigh, the mage handed me a slip of parchment and pointed at another doorway. Giving me directions to yet another room, I was ushered out of the magical testing chamber with a wave of his gnarled hand.
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After a gauntlet of other tests, trials and examinations, I was finally ushered into one last room by a tired looking dwarf who seemed to have his faith in whatever gods he believed in shatter, along with the abysmal attempt at a dagger he had me forge.
This somewhat more ornate room was lined with shelves containing row upon row of books and scrolls, no doubt containing records of every summoned wannabe adventurer who came through here.
“Have a seat.” The old man said.
He continued as the flimsy looking wooden chair creaked. “Son, you have no magical ability, your sword fighting skills are just about useless, you got lost in the timed labyrinth test and decided to ‘wait it out’ as you put it. You can’t read a map, and you have absolutely no business being anywhere close to a forge.”
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Leaning back in his chair, the old man took off his glasses and said. “I don’t see any way any of the guilds would take you. Now, that’s not to say you can’t make it as a lone adventurer, but it won’t be easy.”
He sighed and shook his head. “But who knows, with hard work you can build a good life for yourself here.”
“Um, sir?” I piped up hoping to get a bit of information. “Where exactly is ‘here’ anyway?”
“The city of Ardalk, but it’s all in the scroll you’ll get in just a moment.” He said, grabbing a paper cylinder from a basket on his desk and handing it over.
“Now let me make a few notes here.” He continued, scribbling on a piece of parchment and in one of the massive tomes that littered his desk.
“You’re all set.” The now cheery sounding man said, handing me the folded sheet of parchment as well as a carved wooden talasman on a rough fiber cord.
“Now don’t lose these. They’re your identity documents, and the identifier of a novice independent adventurer.” Sitting back down he continued. “Now if you’ll just go to the next room over there, you can get some basic supplies and equipment.”
*This really is the fantasyland DMV* I thought sullenly. *At least they're nice enough to give me some free stuff though…*
Stepping into the next room, the half orc behind the counter shouted at someone else in the back before looking in my direction.
“Documents” He growled with a heavy accent.
Nervously handing over the folded parchment, the orc snatched it up and began reading before looking at me flatly.
“You get bag, you get bedroll, you get food for five days, you get mini axe, I forget name.”
“Hatchet?” I offered helpfully.
“No interrupting, you get food for four days now.” The orc said gruffly before continuing. “You get iron knife, you get twenty feet rope, you get canteen, and you get four silver coin. Do not spend all in one place.”
The stolid orc laughed at his own joke while stuffing my new belongings in the bag before tossing it at me. Stumbling from the weight, I almost missed him pointing towards yet another door.
"Now go, out into big open world for fun adventure." He laughed again and headed into the back, yelling something to whoever was back there in an unfamiliar language.
Shouldering the pack I made my way out into what appeared to be a reception area of sorts, complete with a knight leaning tiredly up against the wall near the entry, and a bored looking dwarf sitting behind the counter flipping a wooden quill pen between his fingers.
I shrugged and made my way out into the bustling street, immediately trying to avoid the numerous wagons and horse drawn carriages trying to make any headway through the packed crowds of people.
Tall stone and timber buildings lined the narrow street, and I gazed absentmindedly at the shops and stalls that lined the fringes of the thoroughfare. At an intersection an elven man stood on a wooden platform loudly reading off a sheet of parchment while a bored and grumpy looking man in armor and a red sash eyed the crowd.
Stopping to listen, his gaze flicked to me and with a snort he went back to watching the multitude of humans, dwarves, elves, and other races that milled about.
"Again, due to recent goblin sightings, avoid the western foothills at the advice of the adventurers guild. Trade going to Starsport will be affected by this. All caravans are advised to take the northern route to Erinshold first before going west to avoid any encounters. However, the Iron Coin Trading Company fails to heed this warning and intends to hire mercenaries and adventurers at two and a half silver a day for swordsmen, three for archers, and four for mages and healers. Caravans leave every fortnight, with the next in three days from now. Only silver rank adventurers will be considered."
Clearing his throat he continued.
"The Duke Erinson is raising another battalion of footmen, any who wish to apply should go to the regional recruitment office near the south gate. Pay is forty silver should you survive the first campaign. Weapons and equipment beyond a pike and gambeson per recruit will not be provided, however a daily ration will be."
Growing bored of the elven herald, I started heading east as judged by the slowly sinking sun, making my way to an inn near the eastern gate.
One silver coin for a small room and a meal seemed a bit much, but I still didn't know much about this new world. I needed to learn more about the going rate for basic goods, though even knowing that wouldn't keep me from instantly being recognized as an outsider, my clothes and appearance were enough. White straight teeth, no scars or signs of injury, and well groomed and washed hair made me stick out like a sore thumb. The shitty fantasy novels my brother liked never got into the details of just how dirty everything was with no indoor plumbing or health codes.
Tomorrow I'd have to find out more, and find a way to make some money. With three coins left I was going to run out of options soon. Fighting monsters? Picking up a trade? Rescuing damsels in distress? Or maybe becoming a farmer or something.
My mind swirled with uncertainty as I drifted off to a restless sleep, still clothed on the hard bed of itchy straw and rough cloth.