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Jungles are the bane of Owens existence, no sunlight equals no visibility, the plants and shrubbery are all poisonous, and, fun fact, if you piss in the river there are parasites that follow the stream up, all in all, this is the last place Owen wanted to be, not that that was saying much, because the only other place is a cliff, but not in that way. Owen wasn’t suicidal, end of story, but after walking through the densest jungle on God’s green earth, then fighting through a hoard of monsters, both mythical, and common, Owen was getting the itch.

However, thoughts caught up to him, and he made his choice then and there, in a large alcove, that was more a sinkhole than anything else, and on account of the absurdly tall trees, with no sunlight streaming down onto his face, to do something about it.

It was the new year, 1218, and Owen at 16 years of age became an adventurer. Two years passed like a breeze, exploring, honing his skills, making new friends, even more enemies, saving a town once or twice. It was like a dream, Owen thought it would be forever. Unfortunately, maybe another two years later, the number of enemies he had, reached a critical mass, leading to his friends, and party members stabbing him in the back; yet, he had to keep working, to keep his sickly mother in the land of the living. Both he and his mother made peace with it in the spring of 23’. 7 years had passed since his mother died, he kept working as an adventurer, but developed an addiction to alcohol.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Now he lays in this hole, breathless and injured, thinking of his past, thinking of the younger men that now populate the hall, thinking of where, and what to do next, when it all cumulates into one simple sentence.

“I quit.”

Several days had past since Owen had gotten out of the jungle, and the first thing he did that week was, getting his pay then promptly checking into his room, to stew formulate his thoughts, only stopping for food, the other five days he wandered around town, but for the last day, Owen went to the cliff that had made him want to become an adventurer.

It was sunset, the reds were mixing with the oranges and pinks, with a dash of purple in the corners, the landscape he was fascinated by even as an adult, Owen looked out onto the crater ridden plains below the cliff. Some think it’s because of a battle from an empire long since past, and others say a meteor shower fell onto the vast plains and it never returned to normal; Owen, just liked the view.

It was on the eighth day that Owen returned to the, Adventurer’s Hall, it was a medium sized home that the owners, at the start of the adventurers craze, renovated to accommodate more people, now after some 15 years, they had renovated once again making the whole thing bigger, to be able to hold up to around a hundred to two-hundred people. Owen had cared little about the place in his younger years, when they had first remodeled, and still doesn’t.