With a loud thump and sudden pain, my head rebounded as my horns crashed into the top of the door frame.

“Mother f-” I stopped myself, there were kids around.

I’ll never get used to these damn things. I was tall, and the damn horns added yet another hand-length to that. Were these doors built for ants?

The smack on the head woke me right up. Predictably, I hadn’t slept much with all the strange sounds of birds, insects and the creaking and groaning of the building itself. I was dying for a cup of coffee, but did this world even have it?

I took the wool blanket with me, wrapped it over my shoulders like a cloak. I exited the stairwell into the nave, careful not to slam my head into the doorframe again. The kids were already out of bed and running wild, playing tag. They were dressed in shabby clothing, and most were not wearing any shoes. Three of them almost ran into me, and were startled.

I pounced forward and growled, pretending to be a monster. Perhaps I didn’t have to pretend too hard. They squealed in delight and dashed away. I lumbered forward down the nave with my hands forward, putting on a show like I was godzilla or something. I stomped my feet and roared out loud. More of the kids joined the fray, dodging and scurrying about as I moved to catch them. I rampaged down the nave and back a couple of times. They crawled under bunk beds to escape, hopping from top to top.

Suddenly, they grew quiet, and the fun stopped. I turned around to see Amelia with a confused look on her face.

I stood up straight and covered myself with my blanket. “Morning.”

“G-Good Morning. Is everything alright?” she asked.

I smirked. “I’m just trying to catch a juicy one for breakfast, got any that misbehaved?”

Amelia chuckled nervously, eyes darting from side to side. “Ahh. No, but I’ll keep that in mind.”

After a light breakfast of oatmeal at the abbey kitchen, I went out into the village. It was time to accept Amelia’s offer of the village’s generosity, though I still had a gold coin I could spend if needed. I asked her about the local exchange rate, and she told me that a crown was worth two gold, or two-hundred silver.

Safe as the abbey was, I couldn’t sit around all day doing nothing. I needed to lean into something I was good at. I wasn’t a farmer, nor planned to become one, but I knew a bit about hunting. This place had a lake, so I could go fishing, but would [Power Shot] work in the water? Hunting game animals seemed like a better choice. So, for starters, I decided to get a bow, a warm jacket, backpack, and shoes. If I could nab me a few rabbits I’d have a meal without begging for one at the inn.

My [Cartographer] map showed the layout of the village, but nothing was labeled. The closest shop down the road from the abbey happened to be the Bowyer and Fletcher, and that’s where I went.

I could smell an earthy scent of wood and glue before I even entered the shop. Inside, wooden bows adorned the walls. Shelves held neatly arranged bundles of arrows next to an assortment of quivers. A young couple about my age worked behind a workbench that bore the marks of countless projects, with tools scattered about – files, carving knives, and spools of twine. Feathers of different hues lay in careful stacks, ready to be affixed to arrow shafts. Both were clad in practical leather aprons, working their craft, which was immediately halted the moment I entered the shop.

They appeared nervous when they saw me, much like the patrons at the inn. I smiled and gave a friendly wave in an attempt to appear harmless.

“Good morning,” I said in a lively voice.

“And good morning to you as well, sir,” the man said meekly.

“I’m just looking for a bow, quiver and some arrows.”

“Y-yes, yes, of course,” he said. “Anything you like.”

They had a selection of recurves and longbows of various pulls. I didn’t need anything fancy, just something that could be shot quick and easy with the hope of relying on [Power Shot] to do most of the damage. The prices ranged from as little as 25 silver, and up to several hundred. I assumed and hoped there’d be magical, or enchanted bows, but [Keen Eye] showed nothing of the sort.

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The couple seemed more relaxed the longer I stayed, perhaps becoming used to a monster browsing their wares in the shop. So, I decided to strike up a conversation about the game in the area.

“I came across a few mermen in the swamp, are they edible?”

He shook his head in disgust. “Goodness no, they’re full of worms. Only eat ‘em if you're starving. Their scaled hides aren’t worth much either, but the leatherworker would buy them from you. For good meat, try the forest to the north and look for boar, rabbit or quail, but watch out for bears.”

This reminded me that I would need a knife to skin or clean them in the field. I pulled a few bows to get the feel for them, and settled on a simple, but sturdy recurve bow with a decent pull. I also picked out a hip quiver, as I intended to wear a backpack. For arrows, I had a bad feeling that I wouldn’t be able to recover any of the arrows if I used [Power Shot], as they would shatter on impact just like the rocks. So, I grabbed twenty of the cheapest hunting tipped ones.

In total, it was 75 silver for the lot, but when I tried to pay for it with my gold coin, the man wouldn’t take it. I felt like I was robbing them, but I wasn’t going to say no.

It was the same deal at the shoemaker. The old cobbler was eager to help, but nothing would fit my feet as they were too wide at the front with the clawed toes. He took a few measurements of my monstrous stompers before I left.

I tried to smile and nod to the passing villagers, but it did little to disarm them. A few gave me odd looks, but maybe because I was walking around barefoot while covered with a wool blanket.

At the seamstress, nothing fit me either, and certainly none of the pants because of the tail. She offered to adjust my wool blanket, and in a matter of minutes she had transformed it into a poncho by cutting out a big hole in the middle for my bulky head. She also stitched around the edges to keep it from fraying. I thanked her, and then followed the sound of a hammer to find the blacksmith.

The smithy was a robust workshop filled with clanging of metal against metal. The air was thick with the scent of heated iron and radiated warmth of the forge. Tools of the trade adorned the walls. At the center of the smithy stood a burly man, working at the anvil marked by years of use and surrounded by various molds, tongs, and hammers.

For a change, he wasn’t fazed by my appearance as the other villagers. He introduced himself as Karl, and asked me what I needed.

“A knife and a hatchet,” I told him.

“You’re going hunting?”

I nodded. “And to look around the area. I'm new here, is there anything I should know about?”

He shrugged. “You should ask Darya. She knows these woods better than anyone else. She’s our best hunter and dungeon runner.”

“I don’t believe I met her,” I said.

He smiled. “You will.”

Karl was the only one who took my money, and gave me a change of 175 silver. Though, I had a feeling that the price he charged me was just the cost of the materials.

Before leaving, the last item I picked up was a backpack from the leatherworker. The villagers had expectations that I would help at the Dark Night, and for that I needed to get up to speed and fast. I appreciated their generosity and didn’t want to disappoint them.

***

From a tall, arched window in the abbey, Darya and Amelia stood side by side, their gazes fixed on Kevin as he moved through the village below, heading for the gate.

Darya sighed. “He took my room, grabbed my favorite blanket, and cut a damn hole in it for his stupid head. What the hell?! Who wears a blanket like it's a cloak?”

Amelia pursed her lips. “It must be another Drakon tradition. You should be glad, he’s wearing it like a trophy.”

Darya pointed out the window. “See that? He's gone. Alright? He just up and walked out the gate.”

“I’m sure that he’s only going to look around the area, and will return shortly.”

“Will he though? What does he need us for anyway? He swings by to eat our food, grab our stuff, and then skips off. He never meant to stick around and lend a hand. I bet he won't be back, I know their kind.”

Amelia raised an eyebrow. “Do you propose a wager?”

“Yeah, fine. If he doesn't show by nightfall, you can call me 'big sister' for a week.”

“And if he does, then you’ll act as his guide for a week. He seems a bit … confused?”

Darya extended her hand to Amelia. “Deal.”

The two continued looking out the window. Down in the village, life moved on as if in two days there wouldn’t be another Dark Night. They had grown numb to the senseless danger of it. But where could they go? Outside the walls, death and starvation was all around them.

“You know we need his help, right?” Amelia said. “Our children are counting on us.”

“Yeah, what do you want me to do about it?”

“I-I..” Amelia sighed. “I don’t know.”

Darya frowned, turned and started to leave.

“Where are you going?” Amelia called after her.

“Nowhere.”