As a general rule, Beth wasn’t a big drinker. A glass of wine here and there. The occasional beer if the mood struck her. Despite that, she had still managed to run afoul of some serious hangovers in her day. Frosh week. Kathy’s wedding. That time in high school where she drank a whole bottle of Frangelico in one night.

None of them even came close to the feeling awaiting her when she woke up.

Waves of nausea brought Beth to full consciousness and she scrambled on her hands and knees to the tall grass, just barely getting there before throwing up. At some point someone came over and held her hair out of her face, rubbing her back as she heaved. Who it was, Beth didn’t know. It could have been another goblin for all she cared.

Goblins?

Actually, maybe she did care.

Turning around, Beth squinted through the dim morning light to see Eliza smiling back at her.

“Thought we’d lost you for a while there, girl,” Eliza said.

“I’m 44—hardly a girl,” Beth croaked.

“You’re young enough to be my daughter. I can call you whatever I want.”

Beth gave her a weak thumbs-up. “Oh, god. Why do I feel so bad?”

“Eh, that’s my fault,” Eliza said, squinching her nose. “I don’t use health potions as much as in my younger years, and it looks like the one we gave you went a bit sour since I last refreshed this stash. Sorry about that. I should be able to help with that upset stomach, though.”

Laying a hand on Beth’s stomach, Beth watched in awe as a golden glow sank into her tummy, alleviating the worst of her stomach-related hangover symptoms.

“Oh my god, you are my hero,” she said. “Is that how you fixed my blisters?”

Eliza nodded. “Yes, but it only works on a very localized area. A Ranger like me has a tiny bit of healing magic available to them, but it’s a far cry from what a proper cleric can do.”

“Well, I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth,” Beth said.

Eliza cocked her head. “Someone gave you a horse?”

“What? No, yeah, uh, Earth saying. Just ignore me.” Beth looked around, only then realizing that the trees had changed. “Where are we? Last I remember, we were sneaking up on the goblins, then something hit me before Peter could— Peter!”

Panic grabbed Beth and she spun around, eyes darting everywhere before finally landing on her husband sitting a few metres away, smiling at her.

“Peter!” she shouted, sprinting away from Eliza and hurling herself at her husband, arms wrapping tightly around him as she knocked him flat on his back. “I was so worried! Are you okay? Did you get hur— ow!”

Beth winced as an intense ache shot through the right side of her back, just below the shoulder blades.

“Are you okay?” Peter said, concern evident in his voice.

“I think so,” Beth said, rotating her arm to try and work out the kink. Her back really hurt. “Geez… what did I sleep on?”

Peter shook his head. “You’re worried about my health?” He reached over and picked up a short, blood-covered stick with a sharpened stone point lashed to one end. “This was in your back. That’s why it hurts, not some rock you slept on.”

“That was in my back?” Beth said, her voice rising in pitch.

“Yeah. It was.” There was a darkness to Peter’s tone. “One of the goblins got you with their spear. We ended up having to carry you all the way across the valley to get to Eliza’s supply cache. You nearly died.”

Beth reached out and gingerly took the broken nub from her husband. They’d carried her all the way across the valley?

“I’m so sorry I caused you all that trouble,” Beth said, looking at them both. “Eliza… I don’t have the words. You’ve been absolutely incredible. I know we’re slowing you down, but please stick with us a couple more days? There must be something we can do to show our gratitude once we reach Palmyre.”

“A couple of days?” Eliza chuckled. “Girl, we’ll be in Palmyre this morning.”

“What?”

Peter nudged her in the arm. “You want to see it?”

“You’ve seen Palmyre?” she said, unable to keep the squeal of joy out of her voice.

“Not yet, but I would love to. I was waiting for you.”

“Well, show a girl the way!”

Peter pulled Beth to her feet and led her up the slope towards the pass. Beth could barely contain her excitement, but she soon noticed that while her back was sore, her legs felt fine. Peter, on the other hand, looked like he could barely walk.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“I think so,” he said. He gave her a tight-lipped smile. “I was really worried, hon. I thought we’d lost you. We got you here in time though, even if it meant running non-stop for hours.” He winced as he stepped over a fallen log. “And wow, am I paying the price. I think my legs are 95% lactic acid.”

“What about your arm?” she said. The thick bandages covering his left forearm had not gone unnoticed.

“Oh, that,” Peter said. He stared at the bandage, his eyebrows pulling together.

“Hon?” she prodded.

He forced out another smile. “Just an injury from fighting the goblin. Eliza fixed it up enough for me to avoid any long-term damage. Look, we’re almost there!”

Beth knew an attempt to change the subject when she saw one, but they would have time to unpack that mystery later.

The couple crested the hill and stood in awe. Beth reached out her hand and snaked her fingers through Peter’s, holding his hand tight.

Spread out before them were kilometres of farmland, their different crops forming a patchwork mosaic that quilted the landscape. Two large rivers ran from the northeast and east respectively, slicing across the valley and nourishing the farms as they made their way westward towards the sea. The farms were all south of the upper river, with the northern shore consisting of a great green forest that rolled into the distance before climbing a range of mountains that stretched eastward from the ocean. To the west, out over the ocean, Beth saw a broken chain of islands maybe 30-40 kilometres off the coast. There was something off about those islands, as if they were in the wrong place. They gave her such a feeling of discomfort that she turned her eyes away. Fortunately, there was something else to focus on. Something she had begun to wonder if she would ever see.

There, where those two great rivers converged before arriving at the sea, stood a towering homage to civilization; its massive spires and enormous bridges declaring dominance over all of the surrounding terrain.

Palmyre.

“Is that really it?” Beth said. “Are we actually almost there?”

“I think we may be,” Peter said. He turned to his wife. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she said, giving him a kiss.

“Yeah, yeah,” Eliza said as she came up behind them. “You kids hold on for a few hours and you can follow that train of thought in your own home. You ready to go?”

“Definitely,” Beth said.

The three travellers made their way down out of the hills. Even before they reached the farms they began encountering cattle that had been set to graze in the woods, and soon they were passing farms planted with a wide variety of crops. Some of them were recognizable from Earth—lettuce, strawberries, zucchini, and others—while some were completely foreign, such as a plant with broad green leaves that was bound to the ground with a metal lattice to prevent the thick roots from climbing out of the ground and running away. The whole thing seemed rather disturbing to Beth, but Eliza assured them it was quite tasty. Like a tangy potato with mild stimulant properties, and the oh-so-appetizing name of “uggbog.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

As they got closer to the city, they began to encounter more travellers on the road. Some of whom looked… different. Either off a little or outright non-human in several cases. Regardless of species, Beth noticed a distinct trend in how they were treated by those they passed. Anytime someone looked at Eliza, they showed the woman great deference, bowing and showering her with blessings upon her health. In one instance, even stepping into ankle-deep mud rather than forcing her to vary her course in any way. For Beth and Peter, the reaction was almost the complete opposite. Outright disdain was the order of the day, with one person going so far as to spit at them. The only respite they got was if the person Inspected Eliza first, in which case it seemed her high Renown took precedence.

Out of curiosity, Beth Inspected some of the other people on the road, but was confused by what she saw.

Name: Unknown

Species: Unconfirmed (Human suspected)

Renown: Level 21 (class/profession unknown)

Base Stat Average: 20.5

Name: Unknown

Species: Unconfirmed (insufficient knowledge)

Renown: Level 18 (class/profession unknown)

Base Stat Average: 20.1

Name: Unknown

Species: Unconfirmed (Human suspected)

Renown: Level 20 (class/profession unknown)

Base Stat Average: 20.7

“Eliza, our Renown isn’t that far below these people’s,” Beth said. “Considering how fast we’ve been improving, we should be near them soon, and you don’t seem to be that far above them either. Why are they looking at us like something they need to scrape off their shoe?”

Eliza chuckled. “These people are hard workers, but they don’t have a lot of opportunities to increase their levels. Renown gets a lot harder to earn the higher you go, and you can only go so far with the daily skills of a farmer. It takes decades of hard work to become a master farmer, and cumulatively, that accomplishment represents a little shy of 30k experience. As a Ranger, I could earn that in six or seven months if I put my mind to it, but even that is a product of a lot of hard work in my younger years. They’re showing respect for my Renown because they know how hard it was to get where I am.”

“I don’t have a good grasp of the whole experience thing,” Peter said. “How much more experience would you have versus, say, that guy?” He pointed at a man in his early 20’s who glared when he spotted Peter looking in his direction.

Name: Unknown

Species: Unconfirmed (Human suspected)

Renown: Level 17 (class/profession unknown)

Base Stat Average: 19.6

“Him?” Eliza said. She held out her hand and a weathered journal appeared. The Tome was bound in deerskin with a simple flap keeping it closed, and the binding was held with thread. The pages were thick and durable, and it didn’t take long for her to flip to the location she wanted, her fingers making the journey with practiced ease. “His Renown is Level 17, so he’s got at least 70,000 XP, which means I have… a little over 800,000 more than him.”

“Holy cow!” Beth exclaimed. She called up her own Tome and found the page Eliza was referencing. It broke down all of the events that had given her experience and exactly when she’d crossed each Renown levelling threshold. “I’ve only got 6,000 XP? Okay, this is making a bit more sense now.”

“I hope so. And consider this: That man will need to more than double his lifetime experience to get to Level 22. Renown is a big deal because it shows what you’ve accomplished and how hard you’ve worked to get there. Usually. That’s why one of your first orders of business should be discovering what Skills you already have that will transfer to Arenia. From what you’ve said, you can earn some big chunks of experience that way, which will not only give you some credibility in the city, it will also help keep your secret. People are going to notice if you suddenly jump ten levels in a week.”

“But I still don’t understand why they look like they hate us,” Beth said.

“Because Renown isn’t just viewed as a number,” Eliza said. “It’s indicative of who you are—what you’ve accomplished and how hard you work. The only reason someone your age would have such low Renown is if they had no ambition whatsoever and were leeching off society.

“Simply put, they’re looking at you with disgust because your levels are disgusting. Or they would be if you weren’t you-know-whats.”

Beth and Peter shared a look. If what Eliza was saying was true—and they had no reason not to believe her—they needed to get their levels raised as soon as humanly possible.

The rest of the walk continued mostly in silence. Occasionally Eliza would comment on a crop they passed or mention some little tidbit of life on Arenia, but it was mostly benign and of little impact to their future lives in Palmyre. Before long, they found themselves nearing the massive city walls of Palmyre, and Beth couldn’t help but be impressed. At least 20 metres tall, the behemoths were a sight to behold. Oddly, Beth even found them comforting. After all, if someone saw a need to put up massive defensive fortifications, wasn’t it better to have your home inside them rather than out?

There was a long line of carts waiting to get into the town, as well as a separate line where people passed under the huge iron portcullis on foot. It was into that line that the small party stepped, but when they got to the gates, the guard held out a hand and stopped them before they could enter. Beth Inspected him reflexively.

Name: Unknown

Species: Unconfirmed (Human suspected)

Renown: Level 27 Guardsman (class unknown)

Base Stat Average: 21.1

It was interesting that the man’s class wasn’t listed as “unknown” this time. Apparently the fact that he was doing a job that required that class meant that Beth could fill in the blanks without being directly told his class.

“Come on, Eliza. You know the rules,” the guard said.

“What rules?” Peter asked. The guard gave him a withering look in return but still answered.

“You’re a singl’d,” he said. “We don’t let freeloaders into the city. Go find some honest work and come back when you’ve shown you can be of some use.”

“Just hang on a second,” Eliza said. “This lady here owns property. That gives her the right to enter.”

The man’s eyebrows raised. “She’s a property owner? I find that hard to believe.”

A jolt of panic shot through Beth. She had no idea how to explain her ownership of property, nor any means of proving the fact.

Fortunately, Eliza came to her rescue.

“It was a transfer award after that expedition disappeared in the Bookspine Mountains,” she said. “Go ahead, girl. Don’t look so daft. Just show him the Holdings page in your Tome so he knows you’re telling the truth.”

“Oh! Right, of course,” Beth said, hoping she wasn’t going red. Even still, her hands were sweaty as she called up her Tome and flipped to a section labelled “Holdings.”

HOLDINGS

Palmyre:

327 Cirque du Chânce

Four-bedroom attached residential home located within the Chance District.

“See, right here,” Beth said, turning her Tome to face the guard. “327 Cirque du Chânce, in the Chance district.”

As soon as words left Beth’s lips, the guard burst into laughter. Beth looked to Eliza for some understanding, only to discover that the woman was also barely keeping it together.

“You’re in the… on the…” The guard couldn’t even get the words out. “Oh. Oh boy, I needed that.”

“Why are we laughing?” Peter said, his face a mass of confusion.

“Don’t they know?” the guard said to Eliza.

Eliza shook his head, now laughing as well. “No. Why don’t we let them find out on their own?”

“Oh, yeah. I like that idea,” the guard said. “Or at least I would if I could let them in, but I can’t.”

Eliza immediately stopped laughing. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t do it, Eliza,” the guard said. “The rules allow for a singl’d to enter if they’re living with family who owns land, but that presupposes that the owner has at least reached adolescence so they can provide for the singl’d. These two are only Level 6. I can hardly let a couple of children into the city without their parents.”

“Pardon me?” Peter said. He started to step forward, but Beth stopped him with a hand on his forearm.

“No,” Eliza said, glaring at Peter. “I understand. You’re just doing your job. I don’t want to get you in trouble with the Families.”

He nodded to her in appreciation, then gestured to a milling crowd of people off to the side. They were a sorry bunch, sporting all manner of ailments. A quick Inspection showed that every one of them was a singl’d. “Why don’t you head over to the beggar’s bay and see if you can pick up some work. Maybe in a few months, you’ll earn enough experience to come inside.”

“In a couple of—” Peter’s exclamation was cut off by Eliza, who yanked him away from the guard with a strength far beyond what her lanky body suggested. She practically dragged them away from the gate and into the space he’d termed the “beggar’s bay” before rounding on Peter.

“You need to watch your mouth,” Eliza hissed. “I happen to know that guard and he’s a good man, but you sass the wrong person as a singl’d and you’re liable to have your tongue cut out without a soul raising a finger to stop it.”

Well, that was a fun fact to learn about their new home.

“What do we do now?” Beth whispered. “We can’t wait out here for weeks.”

Eliza shook her head. “You may have to. Even if you unlock new Skills that get your Renown high enough, you run the risk of raising suspicion if you do it faster than would be reasonable.

“There’s got to be a way,” Peter said, but Eliza simply shrugged.

“At this point, there are only two ways you’re getting into Palmyre. Either you work outside the walls until you earn entry on your own merit, or you pray to Ádhmór that someone in your family shows up having made Level 10 already.”

“Is that something that could actually happen?” Beth asked. From what they’d experienced, it seemed an unlikely possibility.

“Honestly?” Eliza said. “What a person would have to go through to get ten levels of Renown in less than a week isn’t something I’d wish on anyone.”