Chapter 25

(Dust in the wind)

Jarow's vision abruptly blacked out again as they felt a sudden sensation of force and movement envelop them, as though a colossal hand had suddenly plucked them from the alien world they had just occupied, causing their internal organs to tumble and a sense of dizziness to turn them upside backward.

Strangely, alongside this sensation, Jarow felt a comforting warmth surrounding them, as if being cradled by the mysterious force yanking them from the doll they had just occupied. Despite the abruptness of being whisked away, it felt more like an exhilarating fast speed ride than a violent abduction. In comparison to previous experiences of being transported from one place to another, Jarow found themselves actually enjoying this journey, the unusual internal discomfort aside.

The darkness didn't last long, though, because before they really understood what was going on, a new window materialized in Jarow's vision. This window matched the strange scroll-like window he had seen previously and bore the same flowing style of handwriting. The text burned into the page rather than being written in ink.

Welcome to the Cosmos. By completing the training area and having been introduced to the class based system of interfacing, you are now registered as a ______ and are being being transferred to *)%@!**^}?\/=

Jarow assumed the blank space in the middle of the sentence was left vacant in order to be filled in with their class's title, although since it was still blank, it was somewhat disconcerting. While they weren’t sure why their Catalystic Converger class wasn’t filled in, it was the last word of the sentence which had been blurred out, actually looking as though it had been scratched over, that really caught Jarow’s attention. It seemed as if whoever was writing the text on the scroll had quickly scribbled out the word it was attempting to write. However, the message didn’t stop with the first line; the scrolling handwriting continued on:

For your first assignment, you will be placed within the (&#<^@:>{[}

Once again, the script was hastily scratched out, rendering the actual word illegible. Jarow couldn't help but ponder whether the same entity that left them personal messages within their UI was also manipulating the words here. Almost as if in response to their thoughts, the entire screen underwent a transformation.

The scroll hovering in Jarow’s vision burst into flames and was quickly burned down to a small pile of ash. A small cloud of dark gray smoke was all that remained, floating where the scroll had once been. However, the gray cloud didn’t last long as it was quickly blown away by an unseen wind.

In its wake, a sapphire-blue circular screen materialized. The edges of the screen seemed raised, making the object in Jarow’s vision resemble a large coin or medallion rather than a simple holographic circle. It possessed a translucent quality akin to the holographic screens typical in Jarow’s UI, but the circular screen was dark enough to be visible yet still remained somewhat insubstantial, almost like Jarow could see through to its other side. Unlike the faint cityscape backdrop typical in their normal Cyber Techno-style windows, a distinct symbol lightly glowed in whitish relief atop the medallion, the holographic illusion looking as though the light were etched into the surface of the coin rather than being separate.

The etched-in symbol featured five sides set within the circular face, a pentagon slightly smaller than the circumference of the screen. Each of the corners of the pentagon had small extensions protruding outward which extended to touch the edge. From these small protrusions, a line was drawn inward until they conjoined at the center, like a star with the lines removed. A smaller circle was drawn around the area where the lines conjoined. The symbol was simple, yet as Jarow saw it, a sense of great power and authority washed over them.

Text appeared within this new screen, mirroring the font of Jarow's normal messages, but other than the soft white he normally saw, this new text was being drawn in a vibrant electric blue.

Great work, Jarow! I trust you're pleased with your new class; it was created specifically for you. You'll have the opportunity to level up and unlock more abilities down the line. But for now, I have an important task for you.

I need you to find and secure a highly valuable object crucial for your advancement. To ensure your success and safety, I'm placing you with a team of individuals who are also under my employ. Together, you and your team will venture to a secret and very special place in order to retrieve this object. Follow their lead, fight alongside them, and grow stronger. Once you find the object, you'll know what it is, though I am not allowed to provide any further details.

Keep this mission and our conversations secret. While your teammates are also under my supervision, I cannot interact with them as directly as I am doing with you now. They won't have any additional answers for you and won’t understand your unique circumstance.

I apologize for any unanswered questions you may have, but rest assured, I have everyone's best interests at heart.

Oh, and don't forget about your Heal ability. It may not be listed on your character sheet, but that doesn’t mean you can’t still use it. We can't afford to lose you before you really learn who you truly are now, can we?

Best of luck!

As soon as the last words appeared and Jarow read the final line, the text began to fade away. Once the text had completely vanished, the medallion and its peculiar symbol lingered for a few seconds, but then it too began to fade from Jarow’s view. With the symbol of the medallion gone, there was a moment of loss and sadness, but still being enveloped in the warm, peaceful darkness, Jarow's mind drifted off to sleep.

Initializing. . .

New body found

Beginning transfer. . .

Transfer complete

Jarow slowly opened their eyes, their mind still groggy from the nap they had apparently taken. They realized their mouth was gummy with saliva as they smacked their gums together upon waking. Their eyes were also crusty, so they wiped away the eye boogers before stretching their arms overhead.

With a yawn, Jarow began to recall what had happened before falling asleep: the training area, Shayri, the burning scroll, and the message on the coin-looking screen about the special object they were to retrieve.

Then their brain finally came fully alert, and they opened their eyes with a start to look down at their new body.

What Jarow saw caused their mouth to split open in a huge grin. They were covered in short dark gray almost black fur! Jarow moved their arms back down to where they could see their hands and began examining them. They noticed their hands had pads like a dog's paw, but the fingers were elongated with small, sharp-looking claws at the tips. There was also a thumb to the side of their hand, like a human would have, but the thumb also had a small pad on the underside of it, similar to how their clawed fingers did.

Turning their hands over, they noticed the backs of their hands had white fur rather than gray. The white fur extended up their arms to their elbow and halfway down their fingers.

Moving their gaze from their hands to their chest, Jarow noted the simple off-white tunic covering their torso, its neckline open but could be cinched by drawstrings. Beneath the tunic, their fur protruded, a contrast against the whitish cloth. Below the tunic, they sported what appeared to be cargo shorts, fashioned from a rough, thick material in a light neutral brown hue. The shorts were secured by a plain leather belt with a silver buckle, with a simple leather sheath at their waist, its top revealing the rainbow-hued wooden hilt of a familiar sword.

Speaking of a sword, Jarow’s hand quickly moved down the front of their shorts to feel what awaited them underneath. To their relief, but also with some disappointment, they felt a pair of balls lying under what Jarow could only describe as a sheathed shaft. The organ was unlike the normal genitals they were used to, much more akin to the canine anatomy they now sported.

While intrigued, Jarow decided he would explore that part of himself later, when he felt more comfortable in this body. The idea of manipulating it felt awkward and slightly dirty to him for some reason.

A feeling of relief washed over Jarow as the realization finally sunk in that he wasn’t trapped in the doll-like body after all. Shayri had found the idea of him wearing that barren receptacle outside of her office amusing. Yet in that place, it had been a real fear for him, having to be sexless and featureless for the rest of his life was not something he wanted to endure. He hadn’t minded being genderless for a time, but was also immensely glad to have the ability to use his naughty bits, even if he chose not to right away.

Finally, Jarow’s gaze moved to his feet, which he could see were longer than what he would have guessed. They were bare and fur-covered, likely having pads on the bottom of them similar to the way his hands did, thus eliminating the need for shoes.

Then another realization hit Jarow; for the first time since waking in this strange new existence, he had actual clothing!

He was unable to keep the smile from his face at the thought. It was amazing how something so simple as clothing could make him feel so happy. He brought his hands up to his smiling face and felt along his elongated snout. He had a soft wet nose at the end just like Noruff had had. He lifted his small thin lips and felt his sharp teeth underneath, these teeth built for tearing through meat rather than mashing food as a human’s were. His canines were especially long and menacing as he traced their curving form and pointy tip.

From his teeth, he moved his fingers upward to explore this new face. His fingertips traced his canine features; the whiskers alongside his snout, the large eyes, and sloping forehead, until reaching his two large furry ears jutting from the sides of his scalp.

The ears there were pointed and funnel-shaped, the thin skin and cartilage kept them erect. He felt along them and noticed the faint twitching. The ears moved seemingly of their own accord, seeking the source of the distant sounds he could faintly hear.

Jarow then realized that rather than lying on the floor of one of the cells in the Liminal Divide, he was on an actual bed!

He moved his feet along the rough blanket and could feel the actual cushion of the mattress below him. This was something wonderful and new. Waking up on the cold stone-like floor each time he reincarnated was less than pleasant. While he didn’t think he needed to sleep anymore, the mere fact that he had a bed to wake up on was a big deal to him.

Jarow sprawled on the bed for a moment before taking in the rest of the room. The room was simple, with wooden walls and ceiling, the wood looked old; gray and filled with knots. He looked to his left and saw a small chair sitting beside a simple wooden dressing table, and a dresser with drawers next to that. On the dressing table sat a mirror.

A mirror! Jarow’s brain practically screamed. Jarow had never actually seen himself in a mirror, at least not as far as his fragmented memory could recall. Definitely not since he had awakened in the Liminal Divide. He knew the concept of what a mirror would show, of course, and had undoubtedly used them before, but the image staring back in his mind’s eye remained blank.

Slowly, he moved his feet off the bed and sat on the edge. This new body was tall, his muscles and joints somewhat unfamiliar. Looking down at his legs, he saw that his knees, or what he had always thought of as knees, were placed lower on his leg from what he was used to. Despite the strange joint, the basic function remained the same, and Jarow soon had his legs functioning. He stood and wobbled over to the mirror, plopped down in the chair, and took the first proper look at himself.

What caught Jarow's attention first as he looked into the mirror were his alien, animalistic eyes. There was very little white in them; instead, his eyes were dark pools of brown, with just the faintest distinction between the iris and the black pupil. Although within those dark pools, Jarow could faintly see a shifting light. The faint glow deep within his pupil looked similar to one of Xinpo's portals, spinning deep within. Muted colors vaguely shifted as he stared at his eyes.

Jarow could now also see his upper half: his shoulders were broad, his arms well-muscled, but the rest of his body appeared to be lean and sinewy. The hair covering his body was short and slick, yet soft to the touch. He also had a mane of longer hair sprouting from the back of his long neck, puffing out and running down his back for several inches before tapering off to a point. The hair of his mane was white, like the fur on the back of his hands. The white fur also tipped his ears, and Jarow had noticed it on the tops of his feet as well.

Jarow was awash in excitement and could wait no longer, he opened up his character sheet as he greeted his companion.

"Hey Xinpo!"

Jarow Holloman Catalystic Converger

Level [- 10 -]

Race [- Gnoll -]

XP [- 10,001 -]

HP [- 210 -]

MP [- 410 -]

SP [- 310 -]

Physical

Power 10

Durability 11 [- +1 -] Racial Bonus

Mobility 10

Mental

Perception 22

Willpower 21 [- +1 -] Racial Bonus

Judgment 20

Unquantifiable

Charisma 5

Luck 6

Powers

Molecular Fusion

Essence Transposition

Spatial Exchange

Temporal Inversion

“A Gnoll. That is an interesting race, suzerain. Are you into furries by chance?” Xinpo spoke into Jarow’s mind with a hint of sarcasm and a little chuckle.

Jarow’s mind conjured an image of a human wearing a costume resembling an animal. The costume was oversized and cute, with big round eyes and huge paws covering the person’s hands and feet.

“I don’t think so,” he said aloud, not fully grasping the humor behind Xinpo’s jest, hearing his voice for the first time was somewhat startling. His voice carried a roughness, almost like a slight growl. It was in some ways reminiscent of Noruff’s voice which Jarow assumed was due to his new and somewhat canine-like body. However, instead of a deep guttural growl of a predator, Jarow’s growl was more minute with a higher, yappier pitch.

“I sound like a damn Chihuahua!” Jarow growled at his reflection. He tried his best to look menacing, but now noticed his slightly bulbous eyes and the tufts of hair jutting out from his ears. Then with a loud and abrupt laugh, Jarow lost it.

Unable to contain himself any longer, he burst into laughter. The high-pitched yapping sound of him laughing only intensified his amusement. Before he knew it, Jarow was rolling on the floor, struggling to catch his breath and to stop his mind from imagining the small bulging eyed dogs which kept yipping and barking in his mind.

It took several minutes before Jarow could compose himself once more, finally recovering from his fit of laughter. He knew he would have to limit his speaking for a while to avoid laughing at his own voice again. Small chuckles still fighting their way free as he fought to maintain his decorum.

He picked himself up and sat down once again at the dressing table. Sitting itself was an unusual process. Not only did he have to contend with his long, bushy tail, which was completely new to him, but his hips and knees functioned differently as well. It was as if the lower half of his body was more canine than the upper half, with his hips and knees feeling unfamiliar compared to his usual more humanoid form.

The gnoll body Jarow occupied was still bipedal, but he could tell it was capable of walking and moving on its hands and feet if he so desired. His hip joints had a greater range of motion than he was used to, and his knees, bending the way they did, would allow for a transition to a four-legged stance, enabling him to utilize his hands and elongated arms to move in a quadrupedal position. The muscles, particularly in his thighs and calves, felt more robust and sinewy, giving him the added strength indicative of his legs' dual purpose for both bipedal and quadrupedal motion.

Additionally, his feet seemed to have an additional joint within them that would allow them to bend close to the midfoot, and thus extend his heel to more resemble an ankle joint. This would help to minimize the area touching the ground in a quadrupedal position and further mimic a canine-like paw. So, rather than walking on flat feet as he was doing now, he could run on the small pads underneath his toes.

The unique joints and muscles of his legs were not as different and difficult to understand and use as his Naga tail had been, but still required some added training. Apparently not enough to merit a download of information, including basic muscle control, as had happened in his Naga body, but still was taking Jarow some time to learn to master.

A knock at the door of the room brought Jarow’s attention back from exploring his new body's capabilities.

"Hey, are you about ready in there? We leave in twenty minutes," a voice outside the door yelled. "You should really come meet the rest of the group before we leave."

Jarow had forgotten about being part of a group, and had become distracted by the novelty of seeing himself in a mirror for what felt like the first time to his broken memory. It was nice to finally be able to see what he looked like rather than having to feel along his face in order to draw a mental picture of his own face.

He quickly recalled the windows flashing into view while he was in the warm, comforting darkness as he was transported from the strange alien world where he had met Shayri. They had told him of this team and an object which he was to locate with their help.

He briefly wondered how joining a team would work. 'Would these people already be a team? Would they like him? Did they also go through the trial as he had? Did they remember who they used to be?'

The questions bombarded his brain and caused a bout of anxiety to form a knot in his stomach. “Twenty minutes? I wonder what happens in twenty minutes; are we really setting off so soon?” Jarow thought to himself, the questions continually mounting and causing his stomach to lurch.

Xinpo caught the anxiety held within the unrelenting questions and replied, hoping to not further the growing anxiety, 'I would imagine you'll be sent to the 'very special place' mentioned in the messages you received, suzerain.'

"Wait, you saw those messages too?" Jarow asked in astonishment. The fact that Xinpo had seen the same personalized messages and what that implied snapped Jarow out of the anxiety-riddled path his brain was taking. He had wanted to copy and paste more of the altered messages to verify if they were truly only meant for him but hadn’t had the wherewithal amongst the strangeness of the screens and the unusual circumstance he had been involved in.

"Indeed, suzerain," Xinpo said. "They were unusually personal. Do you often receive such strange messages?"

"Not quite that strange usually, but yeah," Jarow confirmed. "Whoever is guiding us on this journey likes to personalize the screens I see."

"I see," Xinpo said, pausing a moment before continuing. "So, as your companion, it appears I am now also subject to this being's authority by extension."

Xinpo paused before continuing, “I am rather eager to discover what our adventures will hold from here on out." The last part of Xinpo’s words rang out with a sense of excitement.

Jarow shook his head in a lowered way, symbolizing his disbelief at Xinpo’s enthusiasm. "The last thing I need is an over-enthusiastic vampiric sword," he said as he moved towards the door. "I think it’s time that I, or better yet, ‘we’ meet our new teammates before we all go off on an adventure together, you know, group bonding and stuff like that," Jarow said as he grasped the brass doorknob and opened the door to the room.

Although Jarow was trying to play this off as something normal or mundane, for some reason, he found the thought of having a team, meeting new people, and going on an adventure with them exhilarating. His emotions were different from Xinpo’s, though. He felt more anxious, with some fear of having to socialize and possibly being rejected by these people, rather than Xinpo’s eagerness to explore in order to slurp up more bodily fluids. He could practically feel his hands shake as he smoothed his tunic and stood to his full height before finally exiting the room.

"I am not vampiric," Xinpo said. "I merely absorb bodily fluids and other such substances to gain strength." The itching behind Jarow’s head began, feeling as though a wasp had lodged itself there and was wiggling in an attempt to drive its stinger in deeper. The feeling was obviously Xinpo’s thought process working as he mentally scrambled to debate the claim to be a vampiric weapon.

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Several moments later, “Okay, fine, maybe 'vampiric' is a somewhat accurate term." He slowed his words until Jarow could tell he had finally accepted the term, and the itching abated. Jarow smiled, chuckled, and continued walking to the end of the hall.

Jarow found himself in an old-timey inn. The walls were all grayed, well-worn wood, as were the floors and ceiling. The room he had occupied was on the second floor, and as he made his way down the creaky wooden staircase, he entered what could only be described as a medieval tavern occupying the first floor of the inn.

Wooden tables and chairs were scattered haphazardly throughout the room, with a large fireplace on one side where a small fire still flickered. On the opposite side was a bar, where a large, bearded human man wiped at a large mug. Behind him, a visible kitchen displayed large pots filled with bubbling fluids sitting over open flames, along with what Jarow believed to be an open faced oven built into a wall where he could see and smell short loaves of round bread being baked.

Two females wearing short bottoms, white crop tops, and black aprons; one a dwarf and the other a human, were serving drinks and food to the few patrons in the establishment. The waitresses were curvy and knew how to use their curves to garner the best tips, pressing up over the table or bumping the men with a firm hip.

At a centrally placed table, a unique group of four people sat. They all had empty plates before them, obviously finished with their breakfast. Three cups of steaming brown liquid sat in front of them, but the largest one had a large strain instead, the foamy liquid staining the wood of the table from the sloshing around the large man was giving it. There was an extra chair in between them, symbolizing they were expecting someone else to arrive, and Jarow had a very keen suspicion that it was he they were waiting for, since they all looked up at him as he took in the sight and began to descend the stairs.

Jarow's mouth parted in what he meant as a smile as he caught the adventurer’s gaze, but he realized that with his large teeth, the expression probably looked more like an intimidating snarl than a friendly smile, so he quickly closed his mouth and began descending the stairs.

Despite the smoke in the tavern stinging his eyes and the overpowering smell of stale ale and body odor assaulting his canine nose, Jarow couldn't help but love the ambiance of this place.

“This is how an adventure should start!” Jarow told Xinpo, his mental tone tinged with excitement. Although he wasn’t totally sure why he felt so nostalgic and overjoyed by being here, his entire demeanor radiated his enjoyment. This felt like the beginning of something great, something familiar yet not strictly tangible. All of Jarow’s cares instantly disappeared as he stepped down, and probably for the first time, welcomed his new existence.

In fact Jarow practically bounced down the staircase. It felt like his entire life he had been waiting for this opportunity. It even felt like even the life he couldn't remember had looked forward to a circumstance like this. His very soul felt as though it were beaming with happiness in being able to be here, in this place, meeting a party of adventurers to set off on an adventure of his own.

Belatedly breaking through Jarow’s overjoyed revelry, he heard, “Watch out for that last step!”

The dwarven server’s voice penetrated Jarow’s brain a moment too late, and he set his paw down on the bottom rung, unable to avoid the pitfall the woman was attempting to warn him of.

His paw landed flat on the slat of the stair, but rather than supporting his weight, the wooden step decided to rotate. It spun like it was on a rotisserie spit, and Jarow’s paw went right around with it and onto the floor below.

As his foot went through the last step, his body's weight continued forward. With flailing arms and an uncharacteristic yelp — a sound Jarow didn’t know he could even produce — his head met the floor with a loud thump.

Upon seeing the Gnoll’s mishap, especially since Gnolls didn’t have the greatest reputation here, the room exploded with raucous laughter. The patrons had all been somewhat wary upon seeing one of the usually vicious dog-men coming down the stairs, but now, seeing him on the floor whimpering, set their fears to rest and caused a humorous uproar among the patrons.

It took a few moments before Jarow really gathered his wits about him once more. The initial strike of his head on wood was enough to cause a temporary blackout. Once he was once again coherent, he could hear the laughter surrounding him. Accompanying the laughter were cups knocking against tables, bellies being slapped, and multiple voices guffawing from across the room.

Jarow just groaned, not only from the embarrassing entrance but from the pain. Having a snout had consequences, it seemed. His nose had hit the floor first and much harder than the rest of his face. He heard a crunch as it made contact, and as he lifted his head from the floor, he could see that his long gray snout with its typical black wet nose at the end was now severely misshapen, leaving a rather ominous puddle of blood on the floor, which was still expanding.

Jarow could also feel his foot, which had gone through the wooden step. The joints and their structure had kept his shin from breaking by pivoting and causing his leg to bend in a way which wouldn’t have been possible had he been human. Still, the joints were sore from striking against the wood and being forced into the peculiar angles.

Before Jarow could attend to himself and use his healing spell, a soft pair of long-fingered, feminine hands gently cradled his broken face. Before he could realize who or what was attached to them, silvery liquid light poured out from the fingers and into his broken nose.

At first, Jarow was astonished at the sight, but then his mind caught up with his circumstances, and he recognized the healing spell being used on him. With a click and a familiar tickle, his nose straightened out and once more looked whole. It took only a few seconds under the power of this spell before he felt good as new; even his foot was able to slip out from the broken stair and felt as though nothing had happened to it.

With a sense of wonder and the hopes of thanking whoever had just healed him, Jarow pressed his arms to the ground and pushed his face and torso up to see who had healed him. What he saw as he turned to sit upon the floor were two silvery eyes unlike anything he had seen before. Behind them was empathy and kindness, the depths of which he didn’t know were even possible.

"There you go, I think you will be fine," the woman said as she extended her hand once more. "Here, let me help you up."

The voice accompanying the silvery-eyed woman sounded like a song whispering through leaves, holding within it birdsong and the coolness of a shade tree on a summer day. Jarow instantly knew this melodic way of speaking well; he had once had a very similar voice. The woman helping him up was an elf.

She had supple, velvety skin, the color of willow bark, and silken hair as white as cotton yet as delicate as cornsilk. Her delicate features were subtly emphasized by slightly darker, more earthy shades of brown which tinted her skin in just the right places, shading her eyes, whispering gently on her cheeks, and curving around and over her lips.

She was stunning, and Jarow’s heart skipped a beat as he quickly took in her shapely form, trying not to allow his eyes to linger too long on her body.

She wore robes of jade green with silver threads running through in embroidered patterns of small flowers which bloomed along thin winding stems. The flowering vines held small leaves interspersed between the blooming buds and ran along each side of the hem of the garment. The robe clung to her upper body, revealing her curves by leaving a deep neckline where her small neck bones peeked through over her small but perky breasts held together by a bodice of white.

Then, the robe narrowed and cinched at the waist and was held together by a green woven belt resembling ivy-like vines which wound around her several times. An abundance of velvety green pouches hung from the belt, secured by looping their ties through the tangle of vines holding her robe together.

From there, the robe flared out and flowed freely over her long, slender legs which were covered only by tight-fitting snow-white leg coverings and a small pair of tan leather shorts.

Her feet were covered in boots of jade green that matched her robe perfectly. The material of them was different from her robe, but still unknown to Jarow, but they fit snug against her feet and ankles and reached up to cover her calves before being topped off with more of the vine-like material which ran around her waist.

Jarow could feel his mouth open wide, perhaps even drooling at the sight of this woman. His eyes roamed from the top of her pointed ears to the tip of her boots before moving back up to meet her gaze once more. He quickly closed his mouth as he noticed the side of her mouth curl slightly upward, his jaws coming together with a loud snap. The sound brought the other side of her mouth into a curl to match the first.

He took her proffered hand gently, and with the woman’s assistance, Jarow pushed himself up from the floor and brought himself to his fully erect posture once again. However, he found that he couldn’t take his eyes off of the elven enchantress helping him up, and felt a very interesting stirring coming from below his belt.

“How does your foot feel? Is anything broken?” the beautiful woman asked.

“I... I think I’m okay. Thank you,” Jarow muttered, his voice cracking and higher pitched than he would have preferred.

He noticed a round pendant on her neck: in the center was a pentagon with five lines running from the center to each point, and a smaller circle inscribed into the middle of it all. It was blue, and the lines were white, the image triggered Jarow’s recall.

He had seen this medallion; this symbol, before. It was the image his patron used to deliver the direct message he had received before arriving here. Jarow immediately made the connection between the symbol and this woman, and knew that she had to be one of the party members he was here to meet.

Jarow’s other senses began registering once more, and the sounds of the patrons' diminished laughter, as well as the odors of stale beer, baking bread, smoke, and sweat, all assaulted him. Those senses had all but blanked out while his eyes and mind had gotten lost within this woman’s presence.

He had never felt this kind of attraction to anyone before. “I mean, really, there hasn’t been anyone to even consider up until now,” he thought to himself, but he felt that even in his original life, he hadn’t found anyone like this. Jarow felt as though he were staring at his soulmate, at the person he was predestined to be with.

Finally withdrawing his gaze, knowing he had been looking into her eyes far too long, Jarow felt the heat of his blood pooling in his cheeks, as well as one other particular place. Glancing around the room, he noticed everyone else in the tavern was still lightly laughing or retelling the incident to their friends. Some still looked his way, but the majority of the people in the room had returned to their own business.

There were three other adventurers still sitting around the central table where he had seen them earlier. They were all still focused on him and the woman, taking in the new member and his first interaction with their known party member. The two males were slapping the table and pointing at him, although there was a glint in the human’s eye of something more than just jocularity. The third member, a woman, openly glared in his direction.

Jarow looked away quickly from her gaze, the embarrassment of tripping before even meeting his new team causing him to avert his eyes, as much to escape her icy stare as to hide his own discomfort. Instead, he looked down at his hands, which still rested in the palms of this unbelievable woman who had helped him.

The embarrassment and confusion slightly melted away as he traced her arm with his eyes, up to where he once again met her gaze. She smiled lightly, the smile flowing all the way up to her eyes now. There was no humor at his expense there, only true joy at being able to assist him. Her eyes sparkled with kindness.

"Suzerain, I believe your entrance was a good way to break the ice with your new associates. Well done," Xinpo said in Jarow's mind, finally breaking the spell he was caught in. Xinpo thought this was all an act to introduce himself to the party apparently; which would have been a brilliant idea, but not one he could claim he had thought up.

"Come, meet the crew," the elven woman said, her melodic voice desperately seeking to lure Jarow’s mind into a trance once more. This time he willed himself to disengage his eyes from hers and turned away shyly. The embarrassment of falling was nothing compared to what he felt now, after lingering in her eyes for so long.

She kept hold of his hand as she guided him over to the table. Jarow followed along dutifully, like a puppy being led on a leash.

“My name is Isilandra,” she began as they arrived. “This is Grolluk,” she said next, pointing to the man to her immediate right. “He’s our tank.”

Grolluk was huge. He occupied a single chair, but spilled out over the sides. He was fat, but Jarow could see there was muscle underneath, hidden from direct view, but there nonetheless. His stomach bulged from drinking too much, and the capillaries in his nose told the same story.

His skin had a greenish tint to it, and his face had a strange yet somehow familiar flatness. His large red-hued bulbous nose and prominent, if shallow, forehead led to a slicked-back ponytail of muddy brown, greasy hair.

He wore a suit of armor made from a metal Jarow didn’t recognize. It seemed to have the color of wood, but the texture and sheen of polished metal. It was dark brown, almost black, and stacked together like scales. Jarow recalled his own scales from his Naga body and was less than impressed at the color and fit of the armor worn by this beast.

"Have a good trip?" Grolluk asked aloud, accompanied by a reverberating chuckle. His voice was like gravel being washed in mud, and the distinct way he spoke led Jarow to believe this person was more brawn than brain. Jarow immediately labeled him as an Orc.

He had been an Orc once, but female. He had loved the power and finesse that body had displayed, but looking at Grolluk, he couldn't help but wonder if he had come off the same way in that body, as being more brawn than brain.

Jarow was now glad he hadn’t been a male Orc. He wasn’t sure if he would have had the same distinct aroma, but wasn’t sure he could have dealt with it if he had. He wondered now if that was perhaps why Noruff had been slow to befriend her, because she stunk. The Quigza had come around, but as Jarow thought about it, Noruff had been much more open and friendly once Jarow had returned as a dwarf.

Grolluk’s large tusks stuck out from his lower gums and were huge and brownish. They curved forward like two bone fish hooks, stained from years of pulling in the daily catch. The sight made Jarow wonder how this disgusting Orc was even able to talk around the monstrous protrusions deforming his lower lip.

Isilandra continued the introductions, “This is Mediv,”

Mediv sat between the two other party members, but much closer to the remaining party member than to the odorific Orc, leaving a chair in between the two of them. Grolluk’s musk couldn’t be avoided, but it looked as though Mediv was smart enough to stay as far away as possible.

"Jarow, thanks for the entertainment this morning," Mediv said. "It's always good to start an adventure with a good laugh."

Jarow instantly recognized the voice. It had been him who had knocked on Jarow’s room door earlier. Mediv was human, but his voice had an usually carefree cadence to it, and a very unfamiliar accent. Although, since Jarow had no memory of hearing accents other than his own and Noruff’s, he had no idea where or what the accent might be called, but it brought to mind images of large sailing ships and men swinging from ropes with curved swords at their hips.

In fact, the man's wardrobe could easily have been made for just such activities. He wore a loose-fitting tunic with the neck untied, revealing a smooth chiseled chest below it. Above the shirt, Mediv wore a red leather vest with diamond-shaped padding and silver studs at each intersection. The vest looked tough yet flexible.

Mediv sported a small, well-trimmed beard that ran down his cheeks and across his jawline. His hair was short and dark, contrasting against his tan skin. The hair just under his bottom lip was longer though, and he had it braided to extend down past the end of his chin. There he had a golden ring woven into it.

Additionally, Mediv wore two earrings in each ear. The bottom rings were golden and circular matching the one he had dangling below his chin, yet these also sported a large jewel at the bottom of each. His top piercings were both large diamond studs which sparkled in the firelight.

Unlike Grolluk, Mediv's hair was loose and neatly trimmed, hovering just above his shoulders. It was dark black, almost blue, and it waved as if in an invisible wind.

"Finally, there's Suhry," Isilandra introduced the last person at the table. Rather than pointing, though, she laid her hand on the woman's shoulder. Suhry sat to the elven woman’s left, and with that simple touch, Jarow understood why the woman had glared at him earlier. There was something between Suhry and the beautiful elf.

Jarow felt his heart sink.

Suhry wasn't an elf, but Jarow could tell she wasn’t human either. Her skin was dark, charcoal-like, in stark contrast to Isilandra's fairer complexion. While her features resembled those of an elf with large almond shaped eyes and pointed ears, there was an extra sharpness to her facial structure. Her cheeks were more angular, and her eyebrows seemed to protrude just a little too far from her brow.

Suhry wore dark blue robes, reminiscent of the deep icy depths of a lonely sea. They were similar in shape and cut to Isilandra's own robes but adorned with many more accessories, pockets, and intricate patterns woven into the fabric, but the thread used to create the embroidered designs was gold, and instead of flowers and vines, her robe was accentuated in what Jarow took as magical runes and symbols.

Jarow couldn't help but stare at Suhry and her imposing visage, she was unlike anyone he had ever seen before. She was both beautiful and intimidating. Jarow could see how her features could be seen as intriguing, yet also sharp and mysterious.

Then Suhry pulled back her hood and looked more directly at Jarow and said, “You are lucky my wife was here to heal you. You should be more careful.”

There was a lot to unpack in her words. Jarow could tell there were layers of meaning hidden within the tone of Suhry’s voice. It was not a melodic elven voice like Isilandra’s, but it wasn’t gruff and deep like Mediv’s either. Her voice was smooth and feminine, but also dangerous. By telling him to ‘be more careful’ he knew she spoke not of his accident, but of the danger of showing such affection towards Isilandra as he had.

Suhry’s words weren’t the only thing revealed with the removal of her hood though, and Jarow’s jaw dropped upon seeing more clearly Suhry’s face and head. Sitting atop her beautifully bald head were two horns that spiraled back from her forehead, over her scalp, and reached almost to the back of her neck. They were black, even darker than Suhry’s skin, but streaks of icy blue swirled along the ridges of the horns.

While it was difficult to tear his gaze away from her horns, Jarow found himself ensnared by the chilling aura emanating from Suhry's very being. Her ears, pointed and angular, pierced the air like daggers, angling backwards in tandem with her horns, further enhancing her sinister visage.

Descending to meet her eyes, Jarow felt himself drawn into the icy depths that consumed them entirely, leaving no room for the white of sclera. The swirling icy blue hues mirrored the twisted ridges of her horns, creating an otherworldly harmony that sent shivers down his spine. Yet, it was the abyssal darkness of her unnaturally large pupils that truly unnerved him, as they seemed to swallow any hint of warmth in their icy embrace.

In the presence of Suhry, Jarow felt like a moth drawn to a flame, irresistibly drawn yet acutely aware of the danger that lurked within her gaze. She was not merely beautiful; she was a being of immense power, her piercing eyes felt capable of delving into the darkest recesses of his soul and wrenching it free from its fleshy confines with a mere thought.

Jarow unknowingly stepped back and stammered, wrenching his gaze from Suhry’s and looking instead at Mediv, then turning his head to Grolluk. “Uhh… Hello? I’m Jarow. Although I’m sure you guys all knew that already. Uhh… Nice to meet you?”

As if he were completely unaffected by Suhry’s icy glare, Mediv spoke, “Welcome again, Jarow! Sit! Drink! We leave shortly. Tell us about your class and abilities.” Mediv pointed to the chair to his left, which he kept between himself and Grolluk.

Jarow walked around the table, avoiding Suhry’s gaze and wrinkling his nose as he sat down in the offered chair. “You want ale?” Grolluk asked as Jarow sat.

"No, I think I'm okay. Thanks for asking, though," Jarow replied, unsure if his need to eat and drink had changed since leaving the trail area, but he wasn’t hungry or thirsty, so he guessed it was still unnecessary.

“I’ll drink yours then,” Grolluk said, raising his large arm to summon one of the serving girls. “Two more,” he bellowed out and slammed a couple of copper coins onto the table with his free hand.

The thought of having to buy drinks, to buy anything, made Jarow question what had happened to all the treasure he had accumulated and had been wearing before being transported here. Jarow thought the word, “Inventory,” to his UI and the familiar blue screen popped into his view. However, before he could review his belongings, another smaller window blocked the inventory window.

Since you had so much stuff dangling off of your body when you left, your inventory has been upgraded. Oh, and not everybody has an inventory, so don’t go showing it off.

You're welcome.

The message was strange, obviously not a system window, but lacking the flair of the more personalized messages he often received. Jarow shrugged and assumed the message didn’t warrant much in the way of being creative, so the being manipulating his windows must have just put in the minimum amount of work for this one. He dismissed the smaller window before looking at his inventory screen. Rather than the five by five grid it was before, Jarow now had a ten by ten grid to work with. He did some quick math and realized his inventory had quadrupled.

“Wow, that’s a huge upgrade,” he thought as he looked over his belongings. “I guess the effort went into the larger inventory rather than the message.”

Held within the grids were all of the jewelry he had stored, as well as the items he had been wearing, not to mention the possessions Noruff had on his body which Jarow hadn’t been able to store at the time. That wasn’t all though; there was a huge mass of other items taking up his inventory slots as well. These items were vaguely familiar, but Jarow knew he couldn’t just pull items out right here in front of people.

He stared closer at the new items. Each grid square was smaller in size than they had appeared before, so Jarow had to look closely to figure out what each item was. As he focused on one item in particular, a uniquely designed dagger and sheath, his mind put the pieces of the puzzle together: these weren’t just things he and Noruff had worn out of the Liminal Divide, they were the rest of the things he and Noruff had left there. This was the complete treasure Boklo had dropped.

Jarow inhaled deeply. Seeing these things brought back a flood of memories, the things he had accomplished and times he had spent with Noruff. The wound of losing his friend, and the memory of his last moments played through his mind in quick succession. Those memories were still raw, even though it felt like that entire series of events was lived in his past life; it still was too soon for Jarow to look back on them without the pain in his heart returning.

He took a brief moment to feel the loss, but then he remembered the determination and fire that had sustained him through the dungeon of the Thu’kri, which he had drawn from the tragedy. Those were the feelings he needed to focus on. Jarow moved the inventory window to the side and glanced up to remind himself of where he was now.

He couldn’t help but be satisfied with how his life was progressing. He was dealing with a lot of new things and people at the moment, but he was inclined to hope for a positive outcome. He was here in this tavern with a new party, and hopefully the people sitting at this table, he could one day call friends, even though Suhry still glowered at him menacingly.

He didn’t want to bring up his sadness here; there was nothing good that could come from him appearing like a crying weakling before setting off to who knows where to do who knows what. He already felt like a bumbling fool from his fall earlier; adding crybaby to these people’s impression of him was the last thing he wanted.

Jarow closed the screen without withdrawing anything, thus keeping the power secret. Like the message said, this was not something everyone had access to, and seeing the large tear in reality here may cause more problems than he wanted right now.

Even after the added items, he still had plenty of room for new stuff at least. Which was a good thing, because he had really gotten tired of wearing that gaudy and noisy jewelry around all the time.

He briefly wondered if these adventurers knew what he was supposed to be looking for, but since the message hadn’t told him what it was, Jarow doubted it would be any clearer to the rest of them.

Isilandra began talking again, breaking the silence that was on the borderline of feeling awkward and stopping Jarow from asking his own questions in order to keep conversation moving.

“Jarow, you are the unknown here. Grolluk takes the hits, Mediv deals the damage, Suhry controls the crowds, and I provide the healing. What is it you bring to this party?” she paused for a moment before asking the real question on their minds, “Also, why? Why you? Why us? Why are we going to this place, and where is it exactly?”

Jarow didn’t have those answers. He looked around the table and saw the curiosity in each of their eyes. “I was kind of just about to ask you the same questions,” he replied meekly.

Jarow could practically feel the disappointment radiating from all of them at his response. He wished he did know the answers, but his messages were vague at best.

“I… I’m sorry. I wish I knew. I was kind of hoping one of you might know, but that’s obviously not the case,” he stammered, then looked down at the table.

“To answer your other question though, I think I bring versatility?” Jarow said more as a question than a statement. “I can do some cool things like change places with someone or make two people swap bodies. Also, Xinpo has a bunch of abilities like dispel and telepathy.”

Suhry’s face somehow darkened further, but her eyebrow also raised in curiosity. “Who is Xinpo?” she asked in her icy voice.

Jarow mentally spoke to his companion, "Uhh.. Xinpo. I think it’s time to introduce yourself."

"Greetings, fellow adventurers. I am Xinpo, companion and weapon of Jarow Holloman," Xinpo's resonant mental voice reverberated throughout the minds of everyone in the tavern. The adventurers jumped in surprise, while the rest of the patrons were caught even less prepared for the startling mental greeting intruding into their breakfast.

From the corner of his eye, Jarow watched a serving girl inadvertently toss her tray in the air, sending the mugs crashing to the floor. Nearby, someone's breakfast erupted from their mouth as they choked in shock.

Gasps and coughs echoed behind him, mingling with a chorus of murmurs from the patrons, who questioned, "What was that?" and "What was that voice?"

There was also a clattering of pots from the kitchen and the large owner of the establishment yelling out a rather colorful epitaph only moments after a large thud could be heard as his mass collided with the floor.

“Maybe not quite so loud,” Jarow admonished.

“Sorry,” Xinpo replied, his voice now much softer, so that only Jarow could hear, but then Xinpo’s voice raised once more, “Sorry everyone, I am still learning the limits of my telepathy ability.”

The occupants at the table all looked at Jarow, except for Grolluk, who was staring at the floor where his two mugs of ale had landed.

Jarow shook his head in resignation and pointed down at his waist. “My sword. His name is Xinpo, as you all know now.”

“You have a sentient weapon?” Mediv asked, surprise evident in his voice. The man craned his neck to see around you in an attempt to see the mysterious sword.

At the same time, Isilandra inquired, “Your companion chose to accompany you?”

“Yes?” Jarow replied, his voice rising at the end, making it sound more like a question than a statement. With the curiosity apparent in his fellow adventurers eyes, Jarow pulled his blade from his waist and brought Xinpo to the table.

The next few minutes passed with the party getting to know Xinpo, and Jarow too, to a lesser extent. Jarow was hesitant to share the extent of his powers; he felt that there were some things that should be kept secret, just in case. Xinpo was barraged with questions and answered as best he could, though he was sorely unaware of anything the party didn’t already know.

In this way, the remaining minutes before departure went quickly. Jarow was happy to have Xinpo able to be heard and interact with these people. However, he felt a slight tightness in his chest at being surrounded by them. He wasn’t sure what it was, but had a difficult time focusing and interacting.

Suhry was perhaps the most enigmatic of the group, interacting even less with the others than Jarow did. He couldn't be certain, but he assumed it was part of her persona, or perhaps the facade she chose to maintain around others. She embodied the archetype of the strong, silent, and intimidating woman. When she did speak, her words were meaningful and poignant. Jarow couldn't shake off the anxiety and fear he felt whenever she was near.

So, when Suhry's voice cut through the chatter with authority, it instantly commanded everyone’s attention. "It's time to go," she declared, her tone brooking no argument.

The jovial atmosphere dissipated as the party members rose to their feet, including Jarow, who had no clue about their destination. The camaraderie they had just shared vanished, replaced by a sense of purpose and determination. Jarow felt a surge of uncertainty, but he followed their lead, not wanting to make any missteps as the newcomer.

"Let's go, kid," Mediv urged, gesturing toward the door with a nod of his head. "Looks like the fun and games are over."

Isilandra rose from the table with her usual grace, her expression shifting from a gentle smile to one of determination. She smoothed her robes and made a subtle gesture with her right hand. A flash of light emanated from her fingers, and a long white staff materialized in her grasp. It tapped against the floor as she made her way around the table.

Grolluk stood, a large gray chain falling from his lap. A vicious-looking spiked ball, the size of a large melon, pounded against the floorboards as he rose. He pulled out a long handle, apparently tucked under his stomach, and hoisted the huge morningstar over his shoulder, the end of the weapon striking against his back as he strode toward the door.

Suhry folded her arms within the sleeves of her robe and seemed to glide as she moved toward the exit. The rest of the party followed, their movements observed by the patrons still seated at their tables, expressions ranging from interest to awe.

Jarow felt a push from behind as Mediv brought up the rear. "You're about to witness some truly amazing magic," he whispered to Jarow as he guided him forward. Jarow watched as the man flipped a silver piece to the proprietor and gave a large wink to the waitress before leading Jarow to the exit.

Stepping outside, Jarow observed Suhry, who had positioned herself in the middle of the street. With her arms raised, she began chanting. The words she uttered were unfamiliar to him, some sounding almost like singing, while others snapped and hissed.

A small circle of darkness materialized at the height of Suhry's head, its ominous presence commanding attention. Slowly, it began to expand, revealing within its depths dark clouds swirling with intensity. Streaks of lightning illuminated the turbulent sky held within the portal, accompanied by distant booms of thunder, felt more than heard. As the portal grew, a cold wind surged forth, causing Jarow's fur to ripple in its icy embrace. Around him, the other party members, as well as passersby, braced themselves against the damp, cold breeze.

Suhry continued her chant, her voice rising in volume to be heard over the ever-intensifying wind. The portal grew larger and larger, towering almost as tall as the surrounding buildings and wide enough for three people to walk through simultaneously. A cold wind howled out of the portal, and the lightning within flashed brighter, causing the ground to tremble with the intensity of the thunder emanating from deep within.

Where the portal touched the ground, it spread out, flattening against the earth, while its top soared over their heads, surpassing even the tallest buildings lining the street. Jarow wondered if this was a common occurrence in the small town, but the gaping looks on the citizens' faces suggested otherwise.

Then, a second circle appeared within the first. This smaller circle glowed as if illuminated by the lightning streaking through the tumultuous sky behind it. As it stabilized and grew, it slowly began to push back the storm clouds. Where it expanded, it transformed the dark, stormy gray of the maelstrom into white, fluffy clouds, altering the very nature of the sky.

In less than a minute, the entire circular gateway transformed from a dark and stormy tempest to resemble a beam of sunlight pouring through clouds of brilliant white. The metamorphosis was astounding, and the ground around them rapidly warmed from the chilly atmosphere that had enveloped the area just moments before.

Jarow surveyed his surroundings. The small village now glowed as if bathed in the radiance of a bright dawn. Above, the sky mirrored the scene within the portal, yet the light streaming through it cast a unique hue upon the surroundings.

A pang of loss washed over him as he realized he would likely never return to this village. It had only been half an hour since he arrived, yet now he was preparing to step through the portal to an unknown destination. He would depart without even learning the name of this place, let alone the planet on which he stood.

Mediv gently nudged him forward, and Jarow watched as first Grolluk, then Isilandra, stepped through the portal. Jarow found himself next in line, with Suhry's hand beckoning him forward, her other still outstretched towards the portal as if holding it open.

"Is this thing safe?" he quickly asked Xinpo.

"I cannot say for certain, suzerain," Xinpo replied. "It feels much like my own Passe-partout, but with slight differences. However, since the others are willing to enter, I believe it should be fine."

Jarow grew weary of being whisked away or walking into portals with unknown destinations, but there was no turning back now. With Mediv nudging him forward and Suhry glaring at him to move, he had little choice. Everything was happening so fast. His patron had mentioned he was going somewhere special, so with a sigh of resignation, he stepped inside the fluffy portal and ventured towards whatever lay on the other side.

A peculiar sensation washed over him. It felt as though he were being pulled in two directions simultaneously—the pull of the portal conflicting with the gravity anchoring him to the ground beneath his feet. For a moment, he feared he might be torn apart. Then, as the last part of his foot crossed the threshold, the sensation ceased. Immersed within the portal, he was propelled towards the other side, his body sliding through the vibrant kaleidoscope passage.