“Time I was heading home,” said Jethro.

I didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t thought this far ahead. I didn’t want to inconvenience Jethro. If I wanted to keep levelling quickly then I needed to stay in his good books. On the other hand I had no idea how cold it was going to get once the sun went down. I had the skills to build a simple improvised shelter. I could see the plan clearly in my mind. It didn’t look very comfortable or safe and I didn’t know what kind of beasts might wander at night in these woods.

“Do you have somewhere to go?” said Jethro, breaking into my thoughts.

“No,” I said, trying not to sound like I was hoping for an invitation.

“If you come back with me I’m sure we’ll find someone to put you up. Especially if you can collect more of those mushrooms on the way. You’ve got a forager’s eye alright.”

“I’d love to,” I said, handing him his hatchet back and grabbing my bag.

“You might even be able to trade for a knife so you can whittle some better tools for yourself,” said Jethro.

“I can work for it, if there’s any work to be done,” I said. “I’m happy to.” I knew from experience that sometimes the best thing you can offer to a group is enthusiasm and the promise that you’re not going to be a dick about everything.

“Can you cook?” said Jethro.

“I don’t have any pans or anything…” I said.

“We’ve got all you need,” said Jethro.

“I’ve only got one level of camp fire cooking but I certainly used to be a pretty good cook,” I said.

Jethro gave me a serious dose of side-eye, “Don’t talk like that in front of the others. Just for your own safety.”

“Like what?” I said.

“Just don’t talk about anything outside of the System. And if anyone asks why you don’t have any gear and you’re in your underwear just say that you don’t want to talk about it.”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Jethro refused to talk about anything further until we got to the camp. It was in a wide clearing on the edge of a rutted path that was clearly a commonly travelled route. There was a huge campfire with a heavy A-frame raised over it and a mismatched assortment of pots and pans stacked on a stump next to it. There were nearly a dozen tents and small wagons in a rough semi-circle around the central fire.

There were people of all kinds in rough clothing similar to Jethro milling around. They wandered in and out of the tents and wagons, sat on rough log benches around the fire or worked on, no doubt important, tasks that I did not recognise.

There was a black iron cauldron suspended from the A-frame over the fire. Simmering inside was some kind of stew and it smelled magnificent. Once again my body responded to the smell by trying to drool. I swallowed quickly. Maybe drooling wasn’t a faux pas for a beast-kin but I was not having it.

Once I’d managed to drag my attention away from the stew I realised that there was a large fat woman stirring the stew. She was dressed like a witch. Pointy hat and everything. She even had a wand hanging from her belt. From her size, her ears, her tusk-like teeth and the size of her under-bite she had to be at least part Orc.

“Jethro!” said the Orc witch, “You been collecting waifs and strays?”

“Just the one,” said Jethro. “Everyone, this is Petra. She’s a Scavenger and she’s got a bag full of mushrooms. Oh, and she can cook.”

“Great,” said the Orc witch. “You’re in charge of the stew, Petra. Let me check over those mushrooms.”

I handed her the bag of mushrooms and took over the long-handled spoon she was using to stir the stew.

The Orc witch sat down on one of the log benches. I watched as she pulled each mushroom out of the bag, one by one, and inspected them closely. Most of them went into one pile on the bench next to her but there were several skinny pale mushrooms with pointed caps that she held onto. She bundled the assorted pile of mushrooms back into the bag and joined me at the fire.

“Right, these” she waved the bunch of pale mushrooms at me, “Are medicinal so I’m taking them. And by medicinal I mean that they make you super high if prepared correctly. And I know how to prepare them correctly. I’m betting that you don’t.”

“Absolutely no clue,” I said. I wasn’t actually sure that I didn’t know how. It might be part of one of my skills but making people feel smarter than you rarely hurts your relationship with them.

“You want to cook up your mushrooms?” she said. “I think everyone is getting a bit bored of stew. Could make you popular.”

I nodded.

“What do you need to make something out of them?” she said.

I looked around the campfire. There was a heavy cast iron skillet on the stump next to the fire. “That pan,” I said, pointing. “A bit of fat or oil if there’s any. And some bread. Stale bread’s fine if that’s all there is.”

The Orc witch smiled. “I think we can manage that,” she said.