You would keep staring at your name, only the girl won't let you.

After giving you your truly... unique name, she leans toward you, her hands brandishing a bat she seems to have conjured out of thin air. Is it a bat? Or is it--is that a rolling pin?

Your mouth drops open as Malia points the rolling pin threateningly at you. "You stole our cabbages," she accuses. "I want them back."

It's so ludicrous that you sputter with indignation. "I would not take a single one of your god-awful cabbages if you paid me in gold!" you tell her.

This does not calm her. On the contrary, her face starts to turn red under the streaks of dirt. "Give me my cabbages, you mutton-headed miscreant, or I SWEAR I will beat them out of you!" she bellows in a voice much too loud for her small frame and your pounding head.

Nevertheless, you roar back, "And where do you think I'm hiding a hundred cabbages, genius?" You thrust your empty hands towards her.

She stares at you like you're an idiot. And just then, you realize you are an idiot. With your System eyes, you glance at your inventory, and sure enough--next to your Soul Compass, there's a [Cabbage] on a grey background, and [128] printed in the bottom right corner. You snap your mouth shut. Malia is staring daggers (or rolling pins) at you. And then, the door to the next room creaks open. An old man sticks his head through.

"Not now, Pa," says Malia, eyes never leaving yours.

The door opens further, and the man steps inside. He has whitish-grey hair and a smiling, wrinkly face. You can't tell if he looks ancient for being forty years old or very young for eighty. He's carrying a bowl and a cup made of wood, and walks up to the cot without paying Malia any mind. He stops in front of you, wearing a kindly smile.

"I'm Simon," he says. His voice is gentle. "This is my daughter, Malia. What's your name?"

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You don't intend to answer, but the words come out anyway. "I'm Thiefbandit," you say involuntarily. "No, that's not right. I'm Thiefbandit. Thiefbandit." You stare at Simon, horrified. That is not your name! That is not even a name! "My name is not Thiefbandit. It's Thi--" You cut yourself off before it can slip out again.

Simon and Malia exchange a look. "I... see," Simon finally says, his voice still gentle. He looks at you for what seems like eternity but is in reality only a moment. Then he holds out the bowl and the cup and says, "You look like you could use something to eat. We don't have much, but we are happy to share."

You should be ashamed of how quickly you grab at the bowl and start gulping down the broth. Simon hands you a hard piece of bread besides, and you likewise devour it, hardly bothering to soak it in the liquid to soften it up. The cup contains milk, as it turns out, and though it tastes nothing like any milk you've drunk before, you gobble it down as if it were nectar. Only once you've licked the bowl and shaken the last drop of milk from the cup do you hand them back to Simon, who only smiles mildly. Simon leaves the room without another word, taking the dishes with him.

Malia frowns at you. It's the third expression you've seen on her; rage, contentedness, and now irritation.

"Who are you?" she asks.

"I'm--" you cut yourself off, "I already told you."

"Do you have another name?"

Against your will, you answer, "Scoundrelrogue."

Her frown deepens. "Where are you from?"

"I'm," you start cautiously, waiting to see if the System will force any words on you. Nothing happens. "... from far away," you finish lamely.

"And where are you going?" she asks.

"No," idea, is what you almost said, but you change your mind and add, "rth. North."

Something flashes in her eyes, but it's gone quickly. "Why?"

You shoot her a grin that resembles a grimace and say, "For business. Which is none of yours."

She narrows her eyes at you. "Let me get this straight," she finally says. "You stole an entire patch of our cabbages, haven't eaten anything in days, are named Thiefbandit Scoundrelrogue, come from far away, and are telling me you're traveling north but won't say why."

You feel like it's probably a bad idea to answer at this point, so you remain silent.

She regards you for a moment longer, then she seems to come to a decision. She squares her shoulders, lifts her chin and crosses her arms in front of her chest, which is quite the feat with the rolling pin still clutched in one hand. "Here's my offer: First, you give back our cabbages. Then you work for Pa and me. We need help tending and harvesting the crops. In exchange, you'll get a roof over your head and two meals per day. We can't pay you, but you get to keep the Mana you harvest, obviously. What do you say?"

For lack of any better ideas, you say, "Okay."