Up to my waist in clear water, I splashed my arms and body to wash off the sweat and grime. In the nearly two hours we were on this island, I didn’t see any signs that anyone had set foot here before us. I didn’t see any ships in the distance out in the ocean either. Was this island ‘generated’ for a couple of hours for our amusement? Did these monsters and the boss exist simply so we could show up and slaughter them at will?

“Let’s do another,” I told her.

“Ya sure? I’m a bit hungry after all that.”

“Let’s eat, take a short break and get back to it.”

She grinned. “Eager to level up, are we?”

I didn’t have time to lounge around. The Dark Night would be here soon, and I needed every bit of experience I could get. Also, getting another tome, or two would be awesome. I really loved all the cool magic I could do now. At night, I was excited to craft my first wand, but for that I needed to find some ingredients.

This tropical island was a dream, and I didn’t want to leave the warm sun, the white sand, and the emerald waters. Unfortunately, the timer was running low. With seconds remaining, we walked out the portal back to the bedroom. Shortly after, the portal collapsed and vanished, leaving the room darker as it was only illuminated by the morning sun, which was still hidden by the massive cube to the east. It seemed like the position of the sun in this world was different from that in the Void.

Darya held up the [t2] dungeon orb in her hand. “Amelia is going to love this.”

Not wanting to waste time resting, I went searching for the remaining wand components. I started with the blacksmith to get copper wiring.

A short walk down the main road brought me to the smith. I heard the clang of metal striking metal, the hiss of hot metal meeting water, and the roar of the forge. The air was thick with the scent of burning coal and the acrid tang of hot metal. The warm, orange glow of the forge provided both light and a comforting heat. Karl and his apprentices were busy making horse shoes, and I watched them work for a minute. The number of hammer strikes didn’t seem to align with the actual progress on the piece he was working on. Some sort of magic was at work to speed it up.

All around the smithy, I had expected everything to be made of iron, but was surprised to find mostly steel. If [Wandcrafter] and [Cartographer] provided ‘magical’ enhancements of their craft, then maybe the [Blacksmith] profession allowed for abundance in steel from smelting?

“I could use some armor for tomorrow night,” I told him. “What can you offer?”

Karl stopped his work and the place went quiet. “Nothing for your head right now. It’d need to be custom made, and that’d take time to make.”

“How about something for the chest?”

He nodded. “Sure, let me show you what I got.”

I followed him into the armory. Inside, the walls were adorned with an array of tools, including hammers, tongs, chisels, and various molds. A sturdy workbench held smaller tools for fine detailing, such as files and punches. Leather hides, used for crafting grips and straps, hung from the walls.

Lining the walls were racks displaying an assortment of finished weapons. Swords, axes, maces, and daggers of various designs hung from sturdy pegs or rested on wooden supports. Ornate patterns adorned the handles of weapons, and the blacksmith's signature was discreetly etched onto some pieces. Shields with family crests or emblazoned with heraldic symbols leaned against the walls. Mannequins and wooden stands showcased plate armor, and helmets.

“Chainmail?” I asked him.

“I don’t do chainmail, cause I don’t have the patience for it. You’d need to go to Moulton, or a Kittrell for that.”

For 50 silver, I picked up the most basic chestplate, but the fit was somewhat off. It looked more like an oddly shaped baking tray for cookies than a piece of armor.

“I could adjust that for you by tomorrow night. I’d normally suggest a shield, but you’re using a bow, aren’t ya?”

“I’m looking to make a wand. That could be used with a shield, right?”

“Aye,” he said. “Take a look at those.”

The smallest was an iron buckler, maybe four pounds in weight. Next was a heater shield made of wood and covered in linen, with padding and leather straps on the back.

The biggest was a twelve pound kite shield that came up to my chest. It was made of thick laminated wood with a riveted cross, leather grips, and an iron boss. It looked like it had been used in combat before, as it was marred with nicks and scratches. He wanted 90 silver for it, but I told him I’d think about it. I still wanted to see how a wand worked in comparison to a bow. For that, I needed a piece of quartz, and knew where to go looking for it.

After paying for the chestplate in silver, I also bought some copper wire which wasn’t expensive. I traded one power crystal for two yards of it on a spool. I tried offering my rusty machete but he wasn’t interested in buying it.

Afterward, I walked east to the water. The lake's shore beside the village was a quaint scene with water lapping against the muddy beach. The air was filled with the mingling scents of damp earth and freshwater. Small fishing boats tethered to weathered docks, bobbed in the water. A couple of fishermen were setting out, carrying nets and buckets. I followed the shore of the lake north to where it was fed by the narrow river, looking for gravel beds.

Finding banks of pebbles didn’t take too long, they seemed to be at every bend of the river. While scanning with [Keen Eye], I decided to try my new spell, [Telekinesis.]

* [t2] Telekinesis [Duration]

* Push or pull inanimate objects with your mind

* When targeting an object used by another, their [Will] reduces the force

* Cost: 3 mana / second

* Cast time: Channeled

* Force: 8 lbf (28 lbf)

* Range: 10 yards

* Limit: 1

* Affected by [Will]

My hasty decision to pull a pebble toward me, ended painfully as it flew fast and smacked me in the lip. Magic had to be respected -- who would have thought?

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

[Telekinesis] didn’t work quite like I expected, or at least I needed more practice to get used to it. The control was basic though. Mentally pick a target in range, and apply a certain amount of force up to the maximum in a single direction. Fortunately, the force and direction could be adjusted on the fly but I only learned that after getting a fat lip.

The skill description said that [Will] affected it, and the larger number for the force in parentheses appeared to be that result. I assumed ‘lbf’ stood for something like pounds of force. I tried lifting various rocks with [Telekinesis], increasing in size as I went until I found one that I couldn’t. It was almost the size of my head, and weighed about thirty pounds.

It didn’t take long for me to find a decent gravel bed, but it was mostly filled with granite, basalt, schist and shale. After digging around, I was happy to find a few pieces of clear quartz. I picked out the best ones and stored them in my backpack.

To get the last component, I cut across the farmland to the west, straight to the forest. As before, the scent of oatmeal raisin cookies drifted on the easterly wind, and from the same direction came a feeling of being watched. I turned toward the Stygian Cube and the uncanny feeling vanished. What could it mean?

I was certain that I fell out from that mega-structure on my first day in this world. Was there a way to get inside? Maybe I’d find some clues about my origins in this world.

The scent of cookies remained, but the feeling of being watched didn’t return even as I turned back to the forest to look for an oak tree. Most of the trees had only started sprouting leaves, but with [Keen Eye] I was able to ferret out the one I needed at the edge of the forest. Using a hatchet, I collected a few thick branches, and with that, I was ready to make my Oak Wands.

All the walking had made me hungry, so I headed back to get some grub. On the way, I smiled and waved to the passing villagers, but I could tell that they were still cautious of me. Before entering the inn, I noticed three horses were hitched at the post. They had bulging saddlebags and wrapped blankets as if the owners spent days out in the wild.

Visitors?

As soon as I stepped inside, I could tell that something was off. The normally boisterous atmosphere was subdued, and it wasn’t because of me. The only noise and laughter came from the chief’s table occupied by a trio of well armored men.

Their sloppy eating had created a mess on their table. Empty tankards laid on the floor in shallow puddles of beer. This created a strong scent of yeasty fragrance that barely masked the stench of sweat and unwashed bodies.

I hadn’t seen them in the village before. Were they trouble, or did they come to aid the village during Dark Night tomorrow? [Keen eye] marked them as ‘gray’, and the size of their horns were similar to Darya’s.

One of them noticed me and his joyous face lost all its glee in an instant. He nudged the others and they stopped drinking. Their postures changed, they pulled in their legs and hunkered down to the table, as if to look smaller.

I walked up to the bar where Frank was pouring ale out of a barrel. This time, he felt a bit more relaxed around me than before.

I motioned to the trio with my head, spoke in a low voice, “Who are they?”

“Adventurers,” he whispered back.

“Trouble?”

He shook his head.

“Do they know that they’re sitting at the wrong table? Then again, I had made the same mistake myself, so maybe I shouldn’t be the one to talk.”

Frank placed three tankards on the bar. “It’s alright.”

I gestured to the tankards. “Theirs?”

He nodded.

I took the three tankards and walked over to their table. The closer I got, the more still they became. Heads bowed, eyes looking down, they acted like children who got caught misbehaving.

I pushed scraps aside to make room for the three tankards on the cluttered table, then took the time to look them over. They wore padded vests with chainmail, greaves and leather boots. Helm and gauntlets laid on the table to the side. Swords and daggers at their waists. My silence seemed to weigh down on them with every passing second and I could smell fear in the air.

“Welcome to Moorhaven,” I finally said. “Will you be staying a while?”

It took a moment for the bravest of the three to speak up. “Just passing through, m’lord.”

“Don’t forget to tip your innkeeper,” I said and wondered if they even had a tipping culture in this world and village.

I walked back to the bar and took a chair where I could keep an eye on them the entire time. Frank brought out a bowl of bear meat stew, bread, cheese and poured me a tankard of ale. It didn’t take long for them to gulp down their drinks. Before leaving, they picked up the tankards off the floor, and cleaned up the scraps.

“Thanks,” Frank said. “That oughta keep 'em on their toes while they’re here.”

***

“How was it?” Amelia asked Darya eagerly.

Darya grinned, slapped down nine crystals and a [t2] dungeon orb on the cooking table. “Pretty darn impressive, and maybe he's not here to murder innocent villagers after all.”

Amelia closed her eyes, shook her head in disbelief. “Really now?”

“Come on, I'm pretty sure I wasn't the only one having that thought, alright?”

“Is there a plan to conduct another run? We’d need more than just the nine that you have brought to light the night.”

Darya nodded, beamed gleefully. “Not only that, but he’s eager to go again.”

“He is? That’s rather strange. What would he need in such a low tier dungeon?”

“I don't know if you'd buy it, but he used an Orb of Renewal.”

“Huh? That is .. odd. Did he say why?”

“Nah, he doesn't spill much about himself, but I figure he's doing it for the challenge, you know?”

Amelia tapped on one of the horns. “He doesn’t look like he used one.”

“That's what I figured too, but he's got this insane racial trait that hands him unreal attributes,” Darya said excitedly.

Amelia raised an eyebrow. “Why are you so excited about him all of a sudden? I thought you didn’t trust him one bit?”

“Do you grasp what this means?”

“What?”

“He's gonna be itching to level up, meaning he'll keep tackling dungeons, inching his way up in tiers until he hits five. Now you see?”

Amelia gasped. “Oh! You’re right.”

“I just hope he sticks around here long enough for that.”