A low growl in the darkness tore me from fitful sleep. Scrambling to grab the handle of the axe, I threw the woolen cloak off and tried to keep the boulder to my back.

Pale moonlight shone through wispy clouds, illuminating shadowy forms that paced in the darkness.

Climbing up onto the rock, I tried to keep the forms in view as they circled, darting forward, and melding back into shadow once more. Four, maybe five of the things kept me trapped there. Once in a while one would try and clamb up the rock, and my flailing attempts with the hatchet kept its snarling snapping jaws at bay.

Dull red eyes of the wolf-like creatures peered out from the darkness, seeking weak spots in my defense. This game of cat and mouse continued back and forth atop the large boulder until my weary muscles and lack of sleep caught up to me.

Sensing an opening, two of the dire wolves, at least that's what my exhausted brain thought they were, leapt up onto the rock. Flailing with the hatchet clutched in both hands once more, I was momentarily off balance when a heavy weight slammed into my side. Knocking me to the cold, wet earth as teeth and claws began tearing at the rough canvas of my pack.

One arm trapped beneath me, I scrambled to find my hatchet in the darkness. Seizing it, I struck out blindly behind me, striking the creature in the leg.

With a yelp of pain, it jumped back and gave me a moment's breathing room to roll over before another leapt in to take its place.

With its jaws clamped tight around the hatchet handle, missing my fingers by a fraction of an inch, I fumbled for the iron knife on my belt. Little more than a shiv, but it was still better than a bare hand.

Pulling the blade from its sheath, I swung at the wolf's neck. Missing once in panic, the second blow struck home with a thud. Again and again I struck, until it slowed its thrashing and was still.

The other two having decided I was too difficult of a meal ran off, leaving their third limping companion to its fate as it chased after them.

Exhausted, I fell back on the bloody grass as the first pre dawn light began coloring the clouds in shades of orange and purple.

By the time the sun began to rise over the low hill, I had recovered enough strength to assess my situation. And upon inspecting the corpse that still lay partly on my legs, it didn't look like any wolf I remembered seeing, even in pictures. In all likelihood it was just a large feral dog, one of many that roamed the surrounding countryside and poorer quarters of the larger cities in this era.

Not even sure how to butcher the animal, or even what to do with it, I sat against the slope of the hill wondering what to do while I washed the blood off my hands as best I could with what little water was left in my canteen.

Maybe I could sell it to a butcher or something? Or maybe the guards have a bounty for them?

But how would I carry the carcass back? It looked to be at least sixty pounds. Tired and sore as I was, I wasn't even sure if I could make the trek back to town.

What was it's name again? A... Ar.. Alraald... Whatever, something like that.

Setting to the unpleasant task, I hogtied the wild dog and began slowly making my way towards where I thought the road was.

Sometimes carrying, sometimes dragging, I laboriously brought my prize with me over the rolling hills, stumbling a few times as I made my way closer to the city. All the while wondering if it was even worth it for a chance at a few copper coins.

Finally sliding down an embankment to the hard packed earthen road, I got some funny looks from a trio of elves who just shook their heads and laughed as one said something in that sing-song language of theirs.

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It was early afternoon by the time I made it to the city gate, exhausted, parched and hungry. It would definitely be worth the silver coin to stay at an inn tonight.

The guards said something to the man in front of me, before he handed over a slip of folded parchment which the guard read then handed back to the man before ushering him inside the safety of the walls.

Saying the same thing to me, I dropped my burden and began fishing around in the bag for my own documents. Finding them crumpled and with one corner blood stained, I unfolded the sheet and marveled at the now unfamiliar symbols and glyphs that now adorned the page.

Why hadn't I thought to read it earlier? What kinda magic bullshit let me understand them yesterday, or was it the day before?

Sensing the guard's impatience, I handed over the sheet, evidently upside-down as the man chuckled and said something in an equally incomprehensible tongue.

He seemed to ask a question then to which I just shrugged and mumbled something about not understanding him. And laughing once more he said a word which I think meant 'adventurer' or something similar. Then waving me past as well, the man folded up the parchment and handed it back before saying something to the other guards who chuckled in response.

I wandered through the narrow streets in search of a butcher. Eventually finding what I was looking for, I began the arduous process of negotiating with the orcish man through pointing, gestures, and the handful of words I thought I knew the meaning of.

When we reached a point where there may have been a mutual understanding, the man made it known through more pointing and gestures, as well as repeating the same word over and over that the job would be done tomorrow by mid-day.

His fee was two copper, and half the meat, while I would get the remaining half and the pelt, scraped of skin and tissue. But still uncured.

Maybe I could sell that to a leather worker or something? This 'adventure' would be a hell of a lot better if I knew the local language. I don't even know if the words I'm learning are part of the same language.

Satisfied with this arrangement, we shook hands and I left the carcass with the butcher. Stuffing the bloody rope in my damaged bag I went in search of a place to stay the night. Still confused as to how I couldn't understand anyone, nor could they understand me when there was no trouble in the processing office.

More magical bullshit, or maybe just the lack of it.

The roll of parchment, still tucked in my pack was just as incomprehensible as the identity documents I was given, and were no help at all.

Finding a smaller inn after being turned away by several others for the state of my appearance, I negotiated with the clerk for a room and no meal, but with access to the well out back and a bit of privacy to wash both myself and the bloody clothes I now wore for only seven copper coins.

My mind wandered as I scrubbed the shirt in the now reddish brown water.

I can't even think of this shitty shirt as mine. I'm not cut out for this.. I just can't do it. I can barely fight off some wild dogs trying to rip my throat out in the middle of the night, how the hell am I supposed to fight monsters?

I want my old life back, my shitty factory job doesn't seem so bad now. As long as I didn't stick my hand in the machine I was good, and even if I did get hurt there was a safety net in place.

Nothing like that here though.

I thought back to the maimed and crippled begars I passed by while looking for a tailor, the feral children being chased by an angry dwarven guard for stealing food.

That elven woman was collecting berries, maybe they were medicinal? Seems less dangerous of a profession than swinging an axe around.

Lost in thought as I hauled another bucket of water from the well, I failed to notice the stormclouds rolling in from the east.

Do they have alchemists here? Wasn't that just early chemestry with a heavy dose of mysticism thrown in?

But there's at least some magic here, haven't seen any cool wizards yet though, other than those old dudes at the processing office.

I should go back there and see if I can get any more info, it was stupid to just go out into the wilderness and expect to be raking in the gold.

Shaking my head, I washed myself with the cold water and acrid smelling lump of soap.

Fat droplets of rain started hammering down as I was drying myself with the rough cloak. Throwing it over my shoulders and head, I gathered up the still dripping bundle of clothes and rushed inside.

Thinking more about what to do next, I began organizing and laying out my meager belongings.

Yeah, as long as I don't get attacked by a bunch of wild beasts then I could totally become a herbalist or alchemist or whatever. As long as I don't have to fight goblins, or dogs.

Letting my clothes dry on the plank floor of the small room, I ate some more of the cheese and stale bread.

Tomorrow morning I'll search for a herbalist's shop, or an apothecary. Maybe then I can get some idea of what plants are useful, and which are a waste of time.

I should go to the processing center first though, then I can hopefully get some answers, and directions.

It's gonna be a long day tomorrow. I thought as I settled on the lumpy straw mattress, trying to get comfortable.