Walking out into the street in my still damp clothes, I searched the streets, row by row, trying to see some pattern to the way the shops were arranged.

Why didn't I pay more attention where I was going last night. I thought as I trudged through the dirty streets in a direction I hoped was towards the center of Ardalk.

Soon I began to recognize some landmarks, growing more and more confident that I was heading in the right direction.

Isn't that the square where that elf was reading off the news or something? Yeah, so that means I have to go down that way...

I scanned the buildings around me, looking for the somewhat ornate structure that held the adventurer's guild offices.

Soon finding it, I showed my carved medallion to the pair of bored guards in worn and scratched plate armor who just motioned for me to head inside with barely a second glance.

A human man sat at a desk in the nearly empty lobby, rough benches lined one wall, and another guard was by a door leading into the back. He seemed more intent on picking at some gunk stuck to a bracer than looking out for any trouble.

Making my way over to the counter, I cleared my throat.

Let's hope he can understand me. Please, please, please.

"I'm not sure if you can help me, but I need some information. I was summoned here, or teleported, or whatever a few days ago. I almost got killed by a dog yesterday, and I don't really want to fight anything. So I guess my question is what else can I do? Maybe something that doesn't involve fighting to the death, like gathering herbs or medicinal plants and such."

"Sorry if I'm rambling, I just don't really know what to do and you're the first person who might be able to help, that old guy that gave me this medallion and said I was an adventurer seemed nice. Is he still here? Or do I need to wait?"

The man just looked at me blankly for a moment before holding up his hand, he said something I didn't understand before rifling through one of the cabinets under the counter.

Shit. He didn't understand a word of that. Are they gonna throw me out?

Coming back with a device of some kind, he slotted a glowing crystal into the top of the device and turned a ring inscribed with complex runes a few clicks before sitting down.

"Ok. What was that?" He said with an exasperated expression as he picked up his quill and a fresh sheet of parchment.

"Um. I'm a new adventurer, I was summoned or teleported here or whatever. I really really don't want to make a living by killing monsters and such. I don't really know how things work here..." I trailed off.

"Well'" the man said with a sigh, "you don't have to fight to the death if you don't want to. Go and pick up a trade or something. You seem reasonably fit and healthy, everyone is looking for laborers, just don't end up a vagrant and the Guard won't have any problems with you."

He cleared his throat before continuing. "You 'adventurers' seem to think you'll be some great hero like in legends and myths, but that's not how the world works. I have absolutely no idea why you're here, and frankly I don't care. Now do you actually have something I can help you with? If not then quit wasting my time."

Leaving the 'adventurers' guild, I was more determined than ever to find some way of surviving here that didn't involve fighting monsters, now that I knew I wasn't more or less gangpressed into service as a monster hunter.

My aimless search took me past some market stalls where cooks were busy prepping and frying some spiced meat over charcoal braziers, the smell alone made my stomach grumble and stopped me dead in my tracks.

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No, no. You can't afford any of that, not yet anyway. I reminded myself glumly. But maybe...?

Screw it, I really need a pick-me-up after the shit storm of the past two days.

After spending two copper coins on a fried meat skewer of some sort, I resumed wandering the packed streets of Ardalk.

Sure enough, despite the largely haphazardness of the layout, there was some sense of order. More blacksmiths and armorers in one section, tradesmen in another, a market where farmers from the outlying villages brought their goods for sale and purchased what they couldn't craft or grow themselves themselves. Despite the rough appearance of the city it seemed to be a regional trade hub of sorts.

But why is everything so run down and broken looking? I thought, gazing idly at a hastily repaired section of the cobblestone street, neat ordered rows of hewn stone bricks were interrupted by patches of what looked like rubble and mud.

Is this just par for the course in this world? I mean, I can kind of see why most fantasy books wouldn't cover the more boring stuff like that.

Slowly my wandering took me towards the smaller and cheaper shops and stalls nearer to the walls. The buildings here were far more rough and ramshakle than those closer to the center, and they got even more so the farther I strayed from the main road linking the east gate to the central plaza and guild halls.

I think I might finally be getting a hang of how things are laid out here. I thought, turning down an alleyway and almost running into a pair of orks roughing up a human adventurer.

One held the man up against the wooden wall while the other rifled through the man's pack.

Shit this isn't good.

Quickly turning around I began to make my back towards a less dangerous area, hoping they don't decide to rob me as well.

My panicked footfalls echoed through the dirty cobblestone streets in the chill morning air, my breath making little puffs of steam as I ran.

The orks didn't seem to be following, opting for the easier prey they were already well into robbing blind.

Poor bastard. I thought as I ran past a outdoor tavern, paying no mind to the odd looks I got from one of the dwarven bartenders as stopped cleaning the mess from the night prior.

Eventually making it out to one of the smaller main streets, I stopped to catch my breath, looking around I realized I once again had no idea where I was. The three and four story wooden buildings

I peeked into a few shops and tried to ask for directions, but was mostly shooed out after the shopkeepers realized I wasn't here to buy anything, nor could I really speak the local language.

After several attempts, I ducked into a small squat building with a cracked and faded sign depicting a mortar and pestle, along with some leaves and berries of various types.

The old elven woman smiled warmly as I came in, through calm and careful explanation I made it known that I wanted to sell herbs and the like, to which she seemed enthusiastic about, but upon realizing I had nothing to sell her demeanor changed. Unlike the other shopkeepers however, I was not banished from the premises. But instead she motioned for me to sit in a creaking wooden chair while she busied herself with gathering varous bundles and jars from the sparse shelves.

Soon she joined me at the table and began to methodically show me each item. Carefully and slowly trying to explain the uses and properties of each, most of which I didn't understand.

But having gotten a good enough look at the stuff I was reasonably confident I could find the right stuff.

Her explanation of how much each item would cost was a bit more straightforward thanks to my previous conversations with both the butcher and tailor.

After the older elven woman thought I understood well enough, she want and pulled a pouch of rough hand spun cloth out from a box somewhere. And despite my feeble protests she refused payment for it, telling me it wasn't worth even a copper coin, and that I was more than making up for any loss on her part by helping to gather some of the apparently much needed supplies.

That finished, she ushered me towards the door while saying something incomprehensible, that I holed was some variation on 'be safe', or 'take care'. But that could just as easily have been wishful thinking on my part, just clinging to any hope that I wasn't truly set adrift in this new world.

These somewhat depressing thoughts swirled in my head as I made my way back to the butcher from yesterday, he had upheld his end of the bargain as much as seemed fair. I had expected more meat, but once smoked or cooked it would still stretch my rations an extra few days, but only if I kept eating sparingly.

The pelt was mostly intact, holes in the neck seeming to be the only damage, it was rolled and secured with a length of twine. I'm still not sure what I'll do with it yet, but it seems a waste to discard something when I already have so little to my name. At least it didn't smell, I didn't want to attract any more feral dogs.

*Shit, does this world have rabies?* I thought, remembering how close I came to being bitten. *If that doesn't do me in, then a nasty infection probably would. No good antibiotics here.*

Mulling over what the basic level of medical care here was, I busied myself with securing the rolled up pelt to the outside of my pack by threading the twine through two of the smaller holes, the raw meat was wrapped in wax paper and went in with the rest of my rations. Giving the man his fee, he smiled and waved me off as I made my way once more towards the eastern gate, hoping things would turn out better with this foray.

At least now I had some semblance of a plan, however tenuous it was. I wasn't in danger of starving just yet, I had a way to make at least a little bit of money, enough to hopefully cover basic expenses and maybe set some aside should I do well.

As for long term plans, I was at a total loss. I couldn't keep sleeping in random inns and out in the woods forever, not if I truly hoped to make the best of my situation and build a life here.