Vesper dejectedly walked towards the exit. He didn't know what to do with himself, where to go. If there were other places for a [bookworm] to find work in Lucridge, Vesper would be sprinting there now. Instead, Vesper aimlessly strolled through the city as his mind desperately scrambled for a solution.

Now was not the time to enjoy the endless stalls of spiced food, with banners so bright and vibrant, so varied in color, that even rainbows were jealous. Now was not the time to take deep breaths of the fresh air that caused the leaves to dance and shimmer. Sometimes it was easy to become complacent in a city as seductive as Lucridge. Vesper realized he'd become complacent since leaving Lorinth's farm, and now his laziness was rearing its ugly head. Lucridge may have been a beautiful city, but like anywhere else, it was still dangerous.

Starvation in the kingdom was common enough. Horror stories of young men poorly choosing their class and not having any skills to provide for themselves were whispered in hushed tones. King Renault, while fair, didn't tolerate freeloaders in his kingdom since there were only so many resources to go around. Sure, other countries were more lenient, but countries like Maldrake and Sarrin could afford to be. The kingdom of Calfor could not.

Vesper thought of himself as a Pyredrake hatchling. He didn't have the wings nor the magic fire that blackened flesh, but he did share the same fate that a weak Pyredrake hatchling faced. Abandonment, starvation, and death were looking all the more likely. While Vesper knew Lady Eldin wasn't in a position to help him, saying goodbye was the least he could do.

Vesper reluctantly headed towards the orphanage.

The sun hung low in the sky when Vesper made his way through the familiar Orphanage doors. Children scrambled around the orphanage, playing, unaware of Vesper's problems. Lady Eldridge sat at the dining room table, sipping broth from a bowl of warm soup.

"Vesper! How'd your Path day go!" Shouted Lady Eldin.

"Not well," Vesper grumbled.

"It can't be that bad. You'll grow to like whatever you picked, I'm sure," said Lady Eldin.

"My class is [Bookworm]. There isn't a single place in the godforsaken city that wants to hire a bookworm."

"[Bookworm], huh. Well… That's not good. Do you even know how to read, Vesper? What other classes did you get where that was the best pick? "Lady Eldin.

"My other classes were [vindictive farmer] and [obedient slave]. It felt like the best option at the time." Vesper did feel bad having to lie to Lady Eldin, but he held his tongue about his actual class, so he didn't actually end up as a [bookworm]."

"[Vindictive farmer] would be a better class for you, but I don't blame you for wanting to be happy, Vesper. That slave class is…" Lady Eldin choked on her words. Tears streamed down her face. "Vile." She managed to croak out. "

Lady Eldin paused to collect herself. "You never did tell anyone where you came from, Vesper. I remember just how frail you were when we found you, and those awful scars on your back broke my heart. I figured your life was rough, but I never suspected you were a slave."

"I guess I can tell you, Lady Eldin. You've been good to me. I was an orphan at Lorinth's Orphanage Farm. I always suspected Lorinth was a slave driver. My path confirmed it."

"How awful. And to think I was envious of Lorinth's orphanage. It does get high praise. His outcomes are some of the highest in the kingdom."

"Wait, really?"

"Quite a few of his children have gone on to work closely with the Monarchy."

This was troubling, so much so that Vesper forgot about his immediate predicament. Vesper realized that If Lorinth had so much power, he'd still be searching for him. Vesper had no doubt that Lorinth would murder him to silence him if Lorinth had to. Vesper figured he'd have to keep a low profile for the foreseeable future. Vesper had already changed his name once.

"You're in a tough spot, Vesper. I'm afraid I can't get you a job as a [bookworm]. But I know a [farmer] on the edge of the city who owes me. He won't be happy taking on a [bookworm], but I think I can convince him to give you a job on the farm."

Vesper nodded. It wasn't ideal, and it didn't solve any of Vesper's problems, but it would put food in his belly and fund a place to sleep for the night. Not tonight, though.

"Now get out of my orphanage before King Renault gets any ideas to defund my orphanage!" shouted Lady Eldin before shoving Vesper out of the orphanage. Not before handing him a written letter to farmer Olbin, who Vesper was supposed to work for. Vesper didn't particularly want to farm, nor did he want to face the wrath of the farmer once he learned Vesper was a [bookworm]. He'd do it anyway, of course.

Shivering and cold, Vesper curled up outside the orphanage doors and closed his eyes. The night seemed eternal, with little sleep and plenty of nightmares. Too much scared Vesper; he had too much on his mind to be at peace.

The sun rose. Its warmth was welcome. Dusting himself off best he could, Vesper stood up and stretched. His back was somewhat sore, but there was little he could do about it. He was tempted to open the letter Lady Eldin had given him but knew better than to pry into other people's business, even when that business involved him.

The supposed farm was far from the orphanage since it was situated in the city's southern region. The farm was located in the northern region, where few lived, and fewer guards patrolled the streets. It was the industrial portion of the city, where raw goods were processed into sellable products. Vesper had never heard of a farm located in this district. The soil in the northern region was more rock than soil, where even the most resistant weeds struggled to survive.

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Nevertheless, Vesper followed the directions that Lady Eldin had given him. The farm came into view, and it was, well, lackluster. The plot was small with scrawny plants, sporadically spread on hard soil. A small ramshackle hut sat next to the field. Vesper worried that the slightest of breezes would cause the building to collapse like a house of cards.

Vesper took in a deep breath and willed himself forward. As much as he wanted to turn back, there was nothing for him in the city.

Thud! Thud! Thud! Vesper knocked on the door.

"Stop rattling my door!" Shouted a gruff voice, presumably [farmer] Olbin.

"I have a letter for you, Mr. Olbin!" Vesper yelled.

The door swung open, revealing a dirty man who hadn't shaved in months. His biceps were large as expected of a farmer, but his gut told a different story: one filled with beer, wallowing, and despair. Certainly, very little farming recently.

"My name is just Olbin." Said Olbin as he rudely snatched the letter from Vesper's hands. He tore it open and began to read. Vesper felt shameful that a [farmer] knew how to read and a [bookworm] didn't. What Vesper failed to realize was that while Olbin could read, he couldn't read that well. His finger slowly moved to through the words as he sounded out the words with his mouth.

Some time passed before Olbin finished reading the letter. He'd sounded out enough of the words to realize what the letter was about.

"So you're going to work for me. Are you a [farmer], [gardner], or [planter]?” Olbin asked.

"I'm a [bookworm]."

"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that. You're a [bookworm]? No, this isn't going to work. I barely make enough as it is." Olbin began to panic. He looked at the letter, wishing it would disappear. Of course, it didn't.

"Dammit, Eldin. You're going to kill me." Seethed Olbin. Olbin turned to look at Vesper. "You better damn well be an asset and not a hindrance. You're lucky I owe Lady Eldin what I do. And before you ask, that's between her and me. It's best if you get to work while there's still daylight."

Olbin dug through a pile of decrepit farm tools pile outside his shack and tossed Vesper a rusty shovel. Even at Lorinth's Orphanage Farm, Vesper had better tools. Vesper noticed that Olbin wasn't joining him, slamming his small door closed behind him.

Clunk. The hard, dry soil was barely scratched as Vesper stabbed it with his shovel. Vesper cursed to himself, and for a brief moment, Vesper wished he'd picked [vengeful farmer]. He stabbed at the soil, again and again, his anger rising. It was pointless and stupid to farm this soil. Even once Vesper broke up the land, he knew nothing worth growing would grow on this hellscape.

Sweat poured down his body as Vesper worked. His skin burned under the hot sun, and he coughed on the dust as his shovel launched dirt into the air. Even after hours of digging, the progress Vesper made was minuscule. A LVL 10 [farmer] would still struggle to work in this field, and Vesper wasn't even that. Vesper frowned as he looked at the progress he'd made as he watched the sunset. He scratched at the blisters that had formed on his hands, where the shovel's rotten woods had dug into his palms.

Vesper dragged himself to Olbins hut and knocked on the door. The door swung open.

"What do you want? Oh, it's you." Olbin looked past me at the field. A scowl formed on his face. "I guess you're here for payment. He shoved five measly bronze coins into Vesper's palm. Vesper winced as the coins came into contact with his blisters.

Vesper hated farming, and because he was currently farming, he hated his life. And for only five measly bronze too. As the sun fell below the earth, Vesper sluggishly searched for the cheapest inn he could find. Even the most run-down and derelict places he could find had a minimum charge of 4 bronze coins a night.

Vesper dubiously eyed the Slum Pickens Inn. The place's sign hung haphazardly, and the constant creaking of the ceilings plus the cobwebs more frequent than people didn't bode well for the place. It did, however, look like it was cheap, possibly even three bronze cheap, doubling the free-spending coin that Vesper had.

Vesper timidly walked up to the counter and was greeted by a goblin. His instincts told him to turn around and look elsewhere. There were good reasons why goblins were stereotyped as thugs; at least, that was what Vesper thought. Of course, this was the first goblin he'd met. The kingdom of Calfor was mainly made up of humans. It was infrequent to find other races outside of the capital.

"How much for a room?" Vesper asked.

"Good. Good. Give three brown ones. Me, Grunkor." The goblin did a little happy dance and greedily rubbed his hands together.

“Nice to meet you, Uhm Grunkor.” Vesper said. He pulled out three coins, which Grunkor snatched from his palms.

"Deals a deal. Follow. I'll show you the room." The tiny goblin scurried from his stool and ran through the halls of his broken inn. He was shorter than Vesper imagined goblins to be, only coming up to his knee. Vesper figured he could punt the small goblin a good 20 feet if he had to. Only in self-defense, of course.

"Hey, wait up!" Vesper pleaded as the tiny goblin zigzagged through the inn's narrow hallways.

"Here is room!" Grunkor shouted as he jumped about. "You are the first customer in a month. I give a bath, hot water, free grubs!" To say Grunkor was excited was an understatement. Vesper already realized that very few people stayed at goblin inns and that while Grunkor got by snacking on the unfortunate bugs who inhabited his inn, he didn't do much business. Any business was a rare occasion to celebrate. Repeat customers were like unicorns; they didn't exist.

"I don't need grubs. I'm good." Vesper protested.

"You not eat? Grubs are very yummy."

"Uh, yes, I don't eat."

Grunkor shrugged. As a goblin, he thought it was foolish to turn down food. Food was something humans took for granted. Grunkor had known many tribe brethren who had starved from lack of food. As crunchy as a rock is, rock is not food. Those were the words of Umfa the Wise Shaman and words Grunkor lived by.

Grunkor loved living in human lands. It was paradise for a goblin from the deserted plains, where goblins were Borbib food. The grubs just tasted better here: far plumper and had a nice wiggle on the way down. Sure, he missed his fellow tribesmen after his banishment, but life was much more luxurious. He felt silly worrying about instant and gruesome death after being forced into human lands. Not that silly, though, since goblins thought about death constantly.

The room was dusty, with holes through the wall. The bed looked unused, although Grunkor had attempted to dust off the room. He managed to clean most of the room but missed the cobwebs on the ceiling and the dust on the top of an old dresser. Other than the small hole punctured into the wall, everything about this place was a bargain.

"Thank you, Grunkor. This place is perfect."

Vesper watched Grunkor waddle out of the room and wrestle the door shut behind him. Vesper unpacked the few belongings that he had. Vesper didn't dare eat anything Grunkor cooked, instead opting for some street food across the street. With only one bronze to his name, Vesper curled up in his bed, ready to escape his nightmare of a life.