I jolted awake, my eyes snapping open to find a pair of googly eyes mere inches from my face. Plop sat perched on my chest, his gelatinous body quivering with excitement.

"Stanley! Stanley! Wake up! We're going on an adventure today!"

I groaned, pushing myself up and causing Plop to slide onto my lap. "Yeah, buddy, I remember. Just give me a sec to—"

"Adventure time! Adventure time!" Plop chanted, bouncing around the room like a sentient rubber ball.

I rubbed my eyes, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. Right. Magical inn. Quest for meteor iron. Legendary weapon forging. Just another day in Arcadia.

"Alright, alright. I'm up." I swung my legs over the side of the bed, scanning the room. "Hey, where's Effie?"

Plop paused his bouncing, his eyes swiveling comically. "Dunno. Hide and seek?"

I checked the fairy-sized hammock in the corner. Empty. "Effie?" I called out, my voice still rough with sleep. No response.

A muffled grumble caught my attention. It seemed to be coming from... the nightstand? I pulled open the drawer, revealing a tiny Effie curled up on a bed of cotton balls, her wings twitching irritably.

"Five more minutes," she mumbled, pulling a makeshift blanket (was that a washcloth?) over her head.

"Come on, Effie. We've got a quest to complete, remember? Magical iron ore? Lunarblade? Ticking clock?"

Effie poked her head out, her copper hair a tangled mess and her glasses askew. "Do you have any idea how exhausting it is to teach a complete noob the basics of Arcadia? I deserve a full eight hours, at least."

"Aw, come on. I wasn't that bad, was I?"

Effie's glare could have melted steel.

"Okay, okay. Maybe I was. But hey, I feel great this morning! Ready to take on whatever Arcadia throws at us."

Effie groaned, reluctantly fluttering out of her makeshift bed. "Of course you do. A good night's sleep restores your HP and even gives you a small boost. It's basic game mechanics 101."

I blinked, surprised. "Wait, really? That's awesome!"

"Ugh, newbies," Effie muttered, smoothing down her petal dress. "Alright, since you're so chipper, might as well check your stats. Just focus and think 'Character Menu.'"

I closed my eyes, concentrating. 'Character Menu,' I thought, feeling a bit silly.

Suddenly, a translucent blue screen materialized in front of me, filled with numbers and icons.

[Character: Stanley Oakes]

[Level: 2]

[Class: Anomaly]

[HP: 120/120 (+10 Sleep Bonus)]

[MP: 50/50]

[Strength: 12]

[Dexterity: 10]

[Constitution: 11]

[Intelligence: 14]

[Wisdom: 13]

[Charisma: 11]

[Skills:]

- [Basic Swordsmanship] (Level 1)

- [Inventory Management] (Level 1)

- [Slime Whisperer] (Level 1)

[Active Quests:]

- [Forge of Destiny: Gather Meteor Iron]

- [Elixirs of the Ancients]

"Whoa," I breathed, eyes wide as I took in the information. "This is... a lot."

Effie, now fully awake, fluttered over to perch on my shoulder. "Not bad for a beginner. Though your class is interesting. I've never seen 'Anomaly' before."

I pointed at the 'Slime Whisperer' skill. "And what's this about?"

Plop, who had been entertaining himself by morphing into various shapes, perked up at the word 'slime.' "Ooh, are we talking about me?"

Effie shrugged, her tiny shoulders rising and falling. "The system must have recognized your unique bond with Plop. It's not every day someone befriends and names a sentient slime."

I nodded, still marveling at the floating screen. "And these numbers, they seem pretty average?"

"For a starting character, yes. But don't worry, they'll improve as you gain experience and level up. Speaking of which..." Effie's eyes narrowed as she peered at my stats. "You've got some unassigned skill points. We should probably allocate those before we head out."

"Skill points?" I echoed, feeling overwhelmed again.

Effie sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Yes, skill points. You get them when you level up. You can use them to improve your attributes or unlock new abilities."

I scratched my head, looking at the numbers. "Uh, any recommendations?"

"Well, considering we're about to delve into a potentially dangerous cave for magical iron, maybe put a point or two into Strength or Constitution. Or you could boost your Intelligence if you want to be better at solving puzzles and understanding lore."

I nodded, mulling over the options. It felt just like creating a D&D character, except, uh, you know, real. Or as real as Arcadia got, anyway, which in my current situation felt pretty fucking real.

"Alright, let's go with one point in Strength and one in Constitution. That should help with the physical stuff, right?"

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

Effie nodded approvingly. "Good choice. Now, focus on those attributes and think about applying the points."

I did as she instructed, watching in amazement as the numbers for Strength and Constitution ticked up to 13 and 12 respectively.

[Attribute Increased: Strength]

[Attribute Increased: Constitution]

[HP increased by 5]

"Cool," I murmured, flexing my arms. I didn't feel any different, but knowing my stats had improved was oddly satisfying.

"Great, you're marginally less likely to die horribly now," Effie said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Can we get moving? Lunarblade's not going to wait forever."

Plop, who had been unusually quiet, suddenly piped up. "Ooh, ooh! Do I have stats too? Can I see my character menu?"

Effie and I exchanged glances. "Uh, I'm not sure—" I began.

Plop's body suddenly shimmered, a miniature version of my character menu appearing within his translucent form. The text was garbled and glitchy, but I could make out a few details:

[Character: Plop]

[Level: ???]

[Class: Anomaly (Subclass: Moonbloom Slime)]

[HP: ∞/∞]

[MP: ∞/∞]

[Skills: UNDEFINED]

"Huh," I said, eloquently.

Effie's jaw dropped. "That's... not normal."

Plop, oblivious to our shock, bounced happily. "Yay! I have numbers too! What do they mean?"

I shook my head, filing this new mystery away for later. "We'll figure it out, buddy. For now, let's focus on our quest. You ready for an adventure?"

"Adventure!" Plop cheered, morphing into a tiny knight complete with a gelatinous sword and shield.

I couldn't help but laugh, the weight of my new stats and Plop's mysterious menu fading in the face of his enthusiasm. "Alright then. Let's go find us some meteor iron."

As we gathered our gear and prepared to leave the inn, I caught Effie giving me an appraising look.

"What?" I asked, suddenly self-conscious.

She shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "Nothing. Just... you're taking to this better than I expected. Maybe there's hope for you yet, noob."

I grinned, shouldering my pack. "Thanks. I think."

With Plop bouncing ahead and Effie fluttering beside me, we stepped out of the Moonlit Dreamer and into the early morning light of Millhaven. The Lunar Forge awaited, and with it, the promise of our first real adventure in Arcadia.

We'd barely taken three steps out of the Moonlit Dreamer when Effie stopped dead in the air. I plowed right into her, nearly sending the tiny fairy into an uncontrolled spiral.

"Hey! Watch it, you big oaf!" Effie sputtered, righting herself with an indignant flutter of wings.

"Sorry, I didn't—"

But Effie wasn't listening. She spun around, her emerald eyes scanning me from head to toe. Her expression morphed from annoyance to disbelief.

"What am I thinking? You can't go adventuring dressed like that!"

I glanced down at myself, confused. "What's wrong with—oh."

I was still wearing my Zap's Electronics uniform. The neon green polo shirt clung to me like a radioactive second skin, its garish hue clashing spectacularly with the muted tones of Millhaven's medieval architecture. My khaki pants, while practical for organizing shelves, looked woefully out of place among the leather and cloth attire of passing NPCs. To top it all off, my plastic name tag still hung crookedly from my chest, proclaiming "Hi, I'm Stanley!" to all of Arcadia.

"I look like a lost golf caddy," I said.

Effie nodded vigorously. "Exactly! And in case you've forgotten, we're about to venture into a world teeming with monsters. That shirt might as well be a flashing 'eat me' sign."

Plop, who had been contentedly oozing along beside us, suddenly perked up. "Ooh, eat? Is Stanley food?"

"No, Plop," I said quickly. "It's just an expression."

"We need to get you proper adventuring gear. Something sturdy, preferably in earth tones. And for the love of all that's holy, lose the name tag."

I yanked off the offending piece of plastic, shoving it into my pocket. "Okay, I get it. But there's one small problem." I patted my pockets, coming up empty. "I don't exactly have any money for new clothes."

Effie's face fell. "Oh. Right. I forgot you're a complete newbie with no resources."

"Hey! I'll have you know I have..." I trailed off, realizing I had no idea what my inventory actually contained. I closed my eyes, focusing on pulling up the menu. A translucent screen shimmered into existence.

[Inventory:]

- Health Potion (2)

- Mana Potion (1)

- Zap's Employee Handbook (1)

"Great," I sighed. "Unless I can barter with corporate policies, we're out of luck."

Effie opened her mouth to retort, but a gruff voice cut her off.

"Couldn't help but overhear your predicament, strangers."

I turned to find a burly NPC leaning against a nearby building. He was built like a barrel, with arms thick as tree trunks and a beard that could house a family of squirrels. His clothes were simple but well-worn, the kind of practical attire I desperately needed.

"Name's Gorm," he said, pushing off the wall. "I might have a proposition for you, if you're interested in some quick gold."

Effie's wings buzzed with suspicion. "What kind of proposition?"

Gorm jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "I run the Drunken Direwolf tavern just down the way. Been having some issues in the cellar.

I raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "Issues in the cellar? What kind of issues?"

Gorm's face scrunched up, his bushy eyebrows knitting together. "Rats. Big ones. Mean ones. They've taken over my storage area, and I can't get to my best ale."

"Rats?" I echoed, disappointment creeping into my voice. After battling chromasquirrels and sentient Slimes, I'd hoped for something a bit more fantastical.

Effie, however, perked up. "Cellar rats can be quite dangerous in Arcadia. They're not your average rodents."

Gorm nodded vigorously. "Aye, the fairy speaks true. These ain't no ordinary vermin. They've got red eyes that glow in the dark, and teeth sharp enough to gnaw through steel barrels."

"Steel barrels? You're joking, right?"

"Do I look like I'm joking, lad?" Gorm's expression was dead serious.

Plop, who had been quietly absorbing the conversation, suddenly piped up. "Ooh, can I eat the rats?"

Gorm's eyes widened as he finally seemed to notice the sentient slime. "By the gods, what manner of creature is that?"

"That's Plop," I said, as if introducing a sentient slime was the most normal thing in the world. "He's uh, with us."

"Right," Gorm said, shaking his head. "Anyway, clear out the rats, and I'll pay you handsomely. Enough for a decent set of adventuring gear, at least."

I glanced at Effie, who gave a small nod. "Alright, Gorm. We'll take care of your rat problem."

"Excellent!" Gorm clapped his meaty hands together. "Follow me, and I'll show you to the cellar."

As we trailed behind Gorm through Millhaven's winding streets, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were being watched. The early morning light cast long shadows, and more than once I thought I saw something scurry just out of sight.

The Drunken Direwolf loomed before us, a sturdy two-story building with a thatched roof and a sign depicting a snarling wolf clutching a mug of ale. Gorm led us around back to a heavy wooden door set into the ground.

"Here we are," he said, pulling out a ring of keys. "The cellar entrance."

As Gorm fumbled with the lock, I heard a distinct scratching sound from beyond the door. My hand instinctively went to the rusty sword at my hip. I patted my hip, a jolt of panic shooting through me. "Uh, guys? We might have a problem. I don't have my sword."

Effie's eyes widened. "What? How could you forget your weapon?"

"I didn't forget it," I hissed. "It broke because you didn't tell me weapons had durability stats!"

"That's because good ones don't! I'm not used to dealing with rusty weapons!"

Gorm grunted, eyeing me skeptically. "No sword? What kind of adventurer are you?"

"Look, I'm new at this, okay? There's gotta be something we can use."

Effie zipped around, her tiny form darting from shadow to shadow as she scanned our surroundings. "We need to improvise. Quick, Stanley, look around. Anything can be a weapon if you're creative enough."

I scanned the area frantically, my mind racing. The tavern's back alley was littered with discarded crates and barrels. A rusty shovel leaned against the wall, its handle worn but sturdy.

"How about this?" I grabbed the shovel, testing its weight. It was heavier than my sword, but it had reach.

Gorm nodded approvingly. "Aye, that'll do in a pinch. Smash those rats good."

Effie looked less convinced. "It's functional. But keep your eyes open for something better once we're inside."

Plop, ever helpful, morphed one of his appendages into a crude sword shape. "I can be a weapon too!"

"Thanks, buddy. Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

As we approached the cellar door again, I noticed a pile of empty bottles near a trash heap. An idea struck me.

"Hey Gorm, mind if I borrow a couple of these?" I asked, scooping up two sturdy-looking bottles.

The tavern keeper shrugged. "Be my guest. Planning to get the rats drunk?"

"Not exactly. But if things get hairy down there, a broken bottle can make a nasty surprise."

Effie nodded, a glimmer of approval in her eyes. "Now you're thinking like an adventurer. Adapt and overcome."

With my makeshift arsenal assembled – shovel in hand, bottles tucked into my belt – I faced the cellar entrance once more. It still looked ominous as hell, but at least now I didn't feel completely defenseless.

"Alright," I said, tightening my grip on the shovel. "Take two. Let's go exterminate some rats."