In the morning, Max woke up to sunlight on his face. At first Max was confused by the brightness streaming in through the arched window, as he’d grown used to waking up to darkness. His closet-sized room in Rilliard’s had no windows at all, and though his Pod in the real world had responsive ambient light, it was artificial and dim—nothing like these warm beams of Alethian morning sun.

  Was this how those in the Heavens—the rich of the real world, their residences occupying the uppermost floors of Grey City’s high-rise buildings—got to wake up every day, above the smog and dark streets thousands of feet below? No wonder they called it that. These golden rays of sun were undeniably energizing, almost divine.

  After getting ready, Max followed the smell of coffee downstairs and the others already in the common room. At one table, Kell sat alone, scribbling into a small book with a quill. He looked up, smiled, then returned to his writing. Entrails and Nesto were sitting together at another table, looking very serious. Though they had been talking in low voices when Max descended the stairs, now they fell silent.

  “Morning Max,” said Entrails.

  “Careful friend,” said Nesto, “It’s Pariah now...”

  Entrails raised his eyebrows.

  “That's right,” said Max. “That means you can’t call me a slave any more.”

  “Good." Entrails took a sip of coffee from a steaming mug. "I never wanted to in the first place.”

  “Remember to only give your true name to those you trust the most. Your innermost circle. You know, people like me and Entrails,” said Nesto.

  Entrails nodded. “No limit to what others might do to take you out. Including assassination in the real world. Happens more often than you’d like to know.” 

  “After what I've seen so far, I believe you. Pariah it is.”

  “Then since you’re up, Pariah… would you mind refilling my mug?”

  Max blinked. “So the day I stop being a slave is the day you start treating me like one?”

  “Slaves and servants Max, big difference. Oops. I meant Pariah.” Entrails yawned. “Sorry, I’m still half-asleep. If you want me to remember your new identity it might take a second cup of coffee…”

  Max refilled Entrails’ mug and poured the rest of the coffee pot into his own. At some hearty insistence from Nesto, he also helped himself to a plate of eggs and bacon sitting on the counter. “We still do things the old way here at the Magnificent Dog. All-inclusive!” the innkeep had said. Well, Max wasn’t one to complain; before today, breakfast was the meal he most often skipped to save coin. He would’ve been happy if Nesto had offered him bread and butter!

  After he’d finished, leaving the pewter plate empty and shining with bacon grease, Max announced that he wanted to explore the city. Which was true—but what he didn’t say right then was that he really wanted to find an Evaluator. That would've invited questions he wasn't sure how to answer, even to himself. He asked if Nesto had any local maps of the city.

  “Maps? How magnificent could this inn really be without maps? Of course we have some! Kell!” Nesto barked, startling the brown-haired boy sitting at the other table. “Why don’t you show him?”

  “Why not,” Kell sighed. “Not like I was making any progress with all the noise in here, anyway.” The barhand, not yet wearing his apron, rose and waved Max over. “Come on then...”

  “What are you working on?” Max asked, after he and Kell had stepped out of the common room.

  “Oh, that. Well, I’m writing a book… of sorts. It’s supposed to be a book of poetry, really, but right now it’s little more than a few pages with poems on them… I seem to have hit a block.” Kell laughed uncomfortably. “I’ve been trying to wake early to write before the day begins, before my mind is all cluttered with mundane events… but so far it hasn’t much helped.”

  Max followed Kell to the reading room, where the barhand sifted through a drawer filled with rolled-up scrolls of different sizes. Around each was a bit of twine or ribbon with a small tag attached. When Kell found the one he was looking for, he untied and splayed it out on top of the drafting table. It was a map of the entire city, hand-drawn in black ink.

  “Anyway, here’s where we are…” said Kell, pointing to a spot just on the border between the Merchants and Docks district. The barhand went on to indicate and name all the other important districts, as well as the nearby points of interest. Thankfully, the most useful shops and vendors seemed to be close by, but Max made sure to note the Artisans District for future reference—that would be the first place he’d look for apprenticing work. After Kell had finished his quick brief of the city, Max checked his own map and found all the details marked there as well, so he could follow them easily.

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  When Max was leaving, he had to get out of the way as a butcher and his assistant carried in a giant slab of meat through the inn’s front door and around the corner into the kitchen. More supplies for the party, apparently. Who knew what other treats Nesto might have planned for the evening?

  Outside, the city streets were already wide awake. Max checked his map and found the Evaluator’s was less than two blocks away, so he began walking. In contrast to the Shingles, he found it far easier navigating the Merchant’s District, however. Its streets were wide, clean, straight and well-kept. Where the Shingles had dirt and gravel, here the roads were made cobblestones for the heavy wagons and mounts ferrying supplies and crafts all across the city. On the sides were paved walkways as well, though it soon became apparent only a small number of pedestrians actually used them, instead preferring to clutter the streets.

  Compared to yesterday, there seemed to be an increase in what looked to be adventurers walking the streets, in a variety of outfits and weapons. The shopkeeps and vendors were busy hanging banners and decorations, trying to make their storefronts as attractive as possible for the festivities, knowing the streets would be packed all week.

  It didn’t take more than several minutes to find the Evaluator’s, which was a two-story building nestled between a potions store and a herb dealer. However, even though it was easily mid-morning, the door was locked. Max knocked, but no answer. He peeked through the windows to see if there was anyone inside, but it was too dark. He tried the door again.

  Suddenly, a creak sounded overhead and someone called down.

  “What are you DOING, you fool?!” Max looked up to find a mousy-looking man leaned out the second-story window and yelling at him. “Are you from the Taskers?”

  “Um, no. Sorry, I’m just looking for the Evaluator…?” Max had no idea what the man was asking him. What were the Taskers?

  “There will be NO EVALUATING! You hear? None at all! I’m not stepping a FOOT downstairs until it’s safe!”

  Max looked into the darkened window again, but couldn’t see any sign of danger. None at all, in fact. “Safe… from what?” he asked.

  “Spiders, of course! What the hell else?” The man rolled his eyes, as if the answer was obvious. “They appeared this morning, so I contacted the Taskers, but THOSE bums always take their time! As if I’m not important as the other vendors just because I only offer one service! So until they arrive and take care of the problem, you’re just going to have to wait. HMPF!” The irritable man took old of the window shutters and slammed them shut.

  Max blinked. He considered leaving right then and there to go explore more of the city, but at the same time… he was kind of curious to see how this situation played out. Was this some kind of random event? He figured it wouldn’t hurt to wait around a little longer, and besides, he could people watch in the meantime.

  However, he wasn’t waiting long before a figure in mismatched gear approached the storefront. They wore an assortment of basic leather and hide armor, worn out and ill-fitting. As the figure neared, Max saw it was a woman, perhaps several years older than himself. She wore no headgear, her black hair pulled back behind her head in a messy bun. The expression she wore was disinterested, almost bored.

  “‘Scuse me,” she said, nearing the door and motioning for Max to move aside. “I’m from the Tasker’s Guild. Got a job to do.”

  “Taskers? What’s is that?”

  The woman pulled out a keyring and began flipping through the assortment. “Taskers? It’s like a... a beginners guild, you know? Easy tasks, low risk. Been in it for a few months now. Why, you wanna join or something?”

  “Um, I'm not sure. This is kind of the first I’ve heard of it.”

  “Yeah, you look new. Well, it might be the only guild always looking for new members. The tasks never end in this city, you know? Old Tids place, for example—” the Tasker jerked her head towards the Evaluator’s, “gets spiders like four times a week. This is already the second time we’ve had to clear them out. Say…” She looked Max up and down. “Alls you got to join the guild is a recommendation from someone already in it. I could give you one.”

  “Just like that?" Max laughed. "I feel like there’s a catch coming up.”

  “Heh, okay, you’re not wrong. See, I hate this task. If you help me with it, I’d happily give you a rec. Twice the people, twice as fast, plus we could keep the spiders off each other’s backs. Got a weapon?”

  Max pulled out the dagger he’d pillaged from the dead villager in the hamlet near Brix, and presented it sheepishly. “This is all I’m carrying right now… and I haven’t really done any combat yet.”

  “All good, I’m still pretty low level too. Don’t worry, this is an easy task and you can’t die. I did it when I was level one. But you still get exp, so it’s something.” The woman found the key she was looking for and got ready to open the door. “Either way I’ve got to clear this place out, so I got to know—you in or not?”

  Max hadn’t planned on doing any combat, today or really at any time in the near future. Thinking about it made him nervous, even if he couldn’t die. And spiders? He would’ve much rather faced rats or something for a first encounter… Still, it wouldn’t hurt to begin making connections. Even though this Taskers Guild didn’t seem like the cream of the crop, metaphorically-speaking, a guild was still a guild. He tightened his grip on his dagger and steeled himself. “Alright, let’s get it over with,” he said.

  The Tasker grinned and unsheathed the chipped short sword hanging at her belt. “One thing I learned? Nothing wrong with hackin' and slashin' at these early levels. Just try not to get bit by any of the creepy crawlies inside… it’ll itch for hours, not even kidding.”

  “Oh, now you tell me!” Max said, preparing himself for the worst.