System Message: The Coming Horde, Horde Incoming 132:08:16:45

The duo makes their way through the town. Walking along the dirt path, the path is grooved by countless footsteps, and carts hauling materials back and forth. Small puddles of mud dot the road, the way is lined with various houses and shops. Soon the road opens wider forming a circle. Stalls with various colored awnings line the circle and people move between them. Fresh locally grown produce creates an earthy yet aromatic aroma that fills the air. Large carrots, bright orange in color, and massive green cabbages fill various stalls. Stephen finds himself drawn closer to the plants, almost salivating at their sight. It has been weeks since he had vegetables, not that he was complaining, but a change in his diet would do him wonders.

“Oh, hello there! You must be new around here! This is freshly grown from the Westly Farm. You won’t find better produce I promise you that!” An over eager young teenage man says with a smile. Almost shoving a carrot into Stephens hands. “Go on take a bite, you won’t regret it!” His smile was radiant as he watched Stephen bite into the Carrot with a crunch. The barbarian almost melted into the flavor. Elizabeth giggled behind him, as she stepped forward and paid for the carrot as well as a few more. Handing them over to Stephen.

“There that should hold you over while we get back to our duty.” She says with a slight giggle. Stephen had already devoured the first carrot starting to chew on the second. She shook her head with a smile as they continued their way. “We need to get to the Adventure Guild; we must inform them of the Horde quest.” Elizabeth cut in, taking Stephen out of carrot bliss. He simply nodded and continued to nibble as his eyes scanned the other stalls as they walked pass them. Unbeknownst to the two, a figure was following a few steps behind, whenever they stop this figure would dart into a separate group of villagers always remaining in ear shot.

Metal-worked tools gleamed in the sunlight at various stalls—mostly farming implements, though an occasional sword or dagger caught the eye. One stall even displayed a shield emblazoned with the same crest Stephen had seen on the large building in the heart of the town. He assumed it was the town’s heraldry.

As he wandered deeper into the market, he spotted a stall set apart from the others, with a dark green awning shading its wares. This one was different. It wasn’t filled with scythes or plows but an array of daggers, swords, and even a few axes, each either laid out neatly on the table or leaning against it in silent threat. Intrigued, Stephen approached and picked up a sword, testing its balance with a few tentative swings.

A woman sat behind the table, her hands busy with a well-worn cloth. She slowly straightened, eyeing Stephen from beneath thick brows. Her auburn hair was pulled back into a greasy ponytail, and her arms, like massive tree trunks, rippled with muscle. Despite being shorter than Stephen, she carried herself with the confidence and power of someone twice her size.

“Ya ain’t gonna get a proper feel fer it swingin’ it like a broomstick,” she growled, sauntering over to him, her eyes narrowing at his technique. The blacksmith wiped her hands one last time before tossing the cloth aside. “A sword’s like a woman—graceful, got a rhythm to ‘er. You rush in, flailin’ around like that, and she’ll punish ya.”

She gritted her teeth, shaking her head disapprovingly as she watched Stephen awkwardly handle the weapon. He could feel his face heat up, embarrassed by the impromptu lecture.

The woman’s gaze shifted past Stephen, her brows lifting in surprise when she spotted Elizabeth inspecting another stall. “If that's how you handle a sword, how’d ya land yerself a woman like that?” she asked, a low whistle escaping her lips as her eyes trailed up and down Elizabeth’s form.

“It’s not like that. We’re not—I mean, she’s just been helping me out,” Stephen stammered, struggling to explain. The blacksmith held up a hand, silencing him with a smirk. “I use axes. I was just looking for something for her,” Stephen muttered, nodding toward Elizabeth, trying to keep his tone casual. Elizabeth, unaware of the conversation, was busy examining a display of daggers.

The blacksmith gave a dismissive grunt and snatched the sword from Stephen’s hand with surprising ease. Her calloused hands, rough from hours spent at the forge, seemed to barely notice the weight. “A woman like that don’t need this,” she said, putting the sword back on the table. “She needs somethin’ refined, elegant.” She gave a thoughtful hum.

“Say no more, lad.” She chuckled softly. “None o’ these wares are good enough for her. I’ll make ya somethin’ special, proper like.”Stephen cocked his head, surprised by her offer. She grabbed a sheet of paper, scribbling something down. “Don’t worry ’bout payment until the job’s done,” she said, handing him the paper. “Come to this address in about two weeks, and ole Tabitha’ll have ya sorted.”

She flashed a toothy grin, sticking out a hand. “That’s me, by the way. Tabitha. So, we got ourselves a deal?”

Stephen, still a little taken aback, nodded and smiled. As he shook her hand, he felt the strength behind her grip—it was like a vice, rough from countless hours spent hammering at her anvil.

“Good glad we got ourselves a deal then.” She gave him a strong shake, and looks somewhat amused at the strength in Stephens arms. “I can see why she sticks around.” She laughed as Stephen opened his mouth to protest, but she was already walking away.

“I told you we aren’t a couple!” He blurted out towards Tabitha, as she dismissed him with a wave of her hand. Elizabeth came up alongside him beaming. Completely unaware of the deal that had just been struck.

“The deals here are very good! Did you find something you like?” She smiled as she looked at all the weapons, her eyes gong to the sword that Stephen had just been handling.

“Oh I would say he found something he likes.” Tabitha blurted out with a snickering laugh. Stephen rolled his eyes and shook his head. Elizabeth looked between the two with a raised eyebrow, but before she could pry further Stephen was already moving along to another stall.

The cloaked figure continued to follow closely behind them. Amber eyes glinting in the sun from under their dark hood.

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Stephen and Elizabeth continued along the road until they reached the massive structure at the heart of the town. The entire town seemed to have been built around this imposing building, and its grandeur was undeniable. Now that they were closer, Stephen could see the expansive courtyard, lined with straw dummies bearing various slash and puncture marks. Some even seemed darkened, as though they had recently been set ablaze. The building itself was at least four stories tall, with a wide porch stretching across its front, supported by thick wooden pillars. An overhang provided shade to the entrance, where double doors stood in the center. Large windows adorned the building, some with potted plants trailing vines down the wooden façade.

"We’re here—the adventuring guild," Elizabeth announced, flashing a pendant to the two guards at the gate. The guards smiled and pushed open the iron gates, welcoming them into the courtyard. "This is the Silver Lion Guild," she added proudly, her excitement evident as she walked slightly ahead of Stephen. "It's my guild. I’m sure you’ll love it!" Her voice bubbled with enthusiasm. "When I wasn’t in the Abbey, I’d take quests here."

She turned to face Stephen and spun on her heels. "If you were part of a guild before, they’d know. Once they status-check you." She grabbed Stephen’s hand and eagerly tugged him toward the entrance.

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"Status check?" Stephen wondered aloud. What did that mean? Would they see his stats, his titles? As far as he knew, everything seemed normal, but something nagged at the back of his mind. Elizabeth was right, though—this status check might give him answers, maybe even help him find Abigail and Luke.

“Do you think it could help me find my wife and son?” Stephen asked as they stepped through the double doors.

The interior was a mix between a lively tavern and a bustling hotel. Men and women laughed and shared drinks while others discussed urgent matters in hushed tones over plates of steaming food. A group clustered near a massive wall covered in papers, tearing some down before heading toward the front desk. Stephen's eyes darted around, absorbing the lively atmosphere, when he noticed something unusual. Among the adventurers, some had long, pointed ears. Their faces were more angular, their bodies more lithe than the humans around them.

Elves? Stephen thought, momentarily stunned. He felt Elizabeth’s hand slip from his as she continued walking to the front desk. Distracted by his surroundings, Stephen barely noticed the approaching figure until it was too late. He collided with something solid, falling backward onto the ground.

It felt like he’d hit a wall. Looking up, he saw a stocky man with a massive beard towering over him, his face flushed from drink.

"Watch where yer goin', boy! Almost made me spill me ale!" The man’s voice boomed with a deep, hearty laugh. He was short and stout, everything about him thick and heavy. His hands were enormous, and his large, bulbous nose sat beneath a pair of sharp grey eyes that twinkled with amusement.

“Well, ya gonna apologize or what?” the man grumbled, though his tone was more playful than angry. He extended one of those massive hands, helping Stephen to his feet with surprising strength. The man barely came up to Stephen’s chest, but he seemed larger than life.

"Oi! Never seen a dwarf before, have ya?" he asked with a grin, taking a swig from a tankard. Frothy beer clung to his mustache.

“N-no, sir. I haven’t,” Stephen stammered, still processing the encounter. Before he could gather himself, he felt the comforting presence of Elizabeth beside him.

“Fulgeer, leave him alone,” Elizabeth interrupted, smiling at the dwarf. “I found him in the Whispering Woods and I’ve been helping him.”

The dwarf’s face lit up when he recognized her. "Eli! Lass! Good to see ya! That armor I made still holding up, is it?"

Elizabeth chuckled and nodded, engaging in a lively exchange with the dwarf while Stephen stood off to the side, feeling like an outsider. The conversation flowed effortlessly between them, as if they were old friends.

“Now, Fulgeer,” Elizabeth eventually said, steering the conversation back to the task at hand. “I need to find the Guild Master. Do you know where he is?”

Fulgeer rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his grey eyes flicking back to Stephen. "Upstairs, lad," he barked, snapping Stephen from his thoughts. "The Guild Master’s upstairs."

Stephen nodded, still trying to make sense of everything. Humans, elves, dwarves—his mind whirred with questions. How did all of this fit together? He had come to terms with humans being dropped here without their memories, but dwarves? Elves? How did that work?

"Oi! You listening, boy?" Fulgeer’s voice cut through Stephen’s thoughts, bringing him back to the present. Elizabeth smiled at Stephen as she slipped her hand back into his walking him towards the stairs.

“I know your memories are gone, but some things you say still shock me. Never seen a dwarf? Really?” Elizabeth spoke over her shoulder as the two ascended the stairs. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make you feel bad about your situation. Hopefully, this will set us on a path to make it right.” She continued as they approached a set of large doors, the heraldry of the guild carved deeply into the wood.

“Of course we can assist with that! With a reward like that, my folks will be champing at the bit to get in on that action!” A booming male voice echoed from behind the door before it even opened. The voice was deep and gravelly, resonating through the hallway.

“Oh, good, he seems to be in a good mood,” Elizabeth remarked, knocking lightly before pushing the door open without waiting for a reply. The room inside was grand, with bookshelves lining the walls, portraits of valiant warriors battling mythical creatures adorning the space between them. A maroon rug, trimmed with gold thread, covered the floor, leading up to a large, dark oak desk near the back wall. The desk was cluttered with papers, a crystal ball sitting prominently in the center.

Behind the desk sat a man with wild black hair, his eyes locked on the papers before him. Even from across the room, Stephen could sense the weight of the man’s presence.

“Eli?” The man’s voice, deep and rough, cut through the air as he looked up. He rose quickly, revealing his full stature—he was easily a head taller than Stephen. His arms were thick, chiseled like granite, and streaks of gray ran through his hair, giving him the look of someone in his forties. He moved with surprising agility, stepping around his desk.

System Message: Corin - Level 35 Barbarian

Stephen was taken aback. Level thirty-five? He thought job levels capped out at seven, but clearly, he was wrong. Corin grinned widely as he embraced Elizabeth in a bear hug.

“So, my girl, who do we have here?” he asked, sizing Stephen up with a sharp gaze. His brows furrowed. “Level 2 Barbarian? At your age, you should’ve picked your dedicated path by now.” Corin stepped closer to Stephen, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized him.

“I found him in the Whispering Woods,” Elizabeth chimed in, cutting through the tension. “It seems he’s been afflicted with something that erased his memories.” Corin’s gaze shifted to her as she continued. “I noticed his low level too. I think it might be connected to this affliction, but I’ve never heard of something that can take both memories and levels.” She turned, looking at both men. “He also remembers having a family, but he’s separated from them.”

Corin nodded, though his dark eyes never left Stephen’s. They were like two endless pools of black, drawing Stephen in and filling his stomach with a knot of anxiety. He felt like he couldn’t even blink, afraid this towering man would devour him if he let his guard down.

“I see. So, you came here to…?” Corin asked, his scrutiny finally breaking as he glanced at Elizabeth. Stephen exhaled sharply, realizing he had been holding his breath.

“Give him a status check,” Elizabeth answered. “I thought it might reveal what guild he’s associated with, and that could give us clues about his family.” She offered Stephen a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

“Makes sense,” Corin agreed, motioning for them to follow him as he returned to his desk. “Stephen, right? Place your hand on this crystal ball here.” He gestured to the clear sphere resting on the desk.

Stephen hesitated but then placed his hand on the orb. It was cold to the touch, almost icy. Corin muttered a few words and closed his eyes, placing his own hand over Stephen’s. The room seemed to darken, though the sunlight still streamed through the windows. Papers fluttered with an unfelt breeze as the crystal ball began to glow, swirling with shimmering light. Motes of light flickered inside the orb, like stars scattered across a midnight ocean.

But then, something changed. The swirling mist hardened, jagged spikes forming and pulsing within the ball. The light inside turned from soft white to an ominous red, then black. It was as if something inside the orb wanted to break free, smashing against its sides like a caged beast.

Corin’s eyes snapped open, and with a sudden burst of strength, he shoved Stephen away from the sphere, sending him sprawling across the room. The strange energy dissipated as quickly as it had appeared, and the room returned to normal.

“I’ve never seen a reaction like that,” Corin said quietly, his voice now calm and measured. “You have no trace of essence at all.”

“Essence?” Stephen asked, confused by the term. Corin fixed his hair, walking around the desk to stand over Stephen, who remained on the floor. Elizabeth looked between the two, her own confusion clear.

“That explains the memory loss,” Corin continued after a tense silence. “It would also explain the low levels. But what I don’t understand is the sphere’s reaction—it lashed out, almost like it was trying to eliminate you.” Corin’s gaze softened slightly as he noticed the worry etched on Stephen’s face. “If Eli here trusts you, then this guild will do all it can to help.” He extended a hand to Stephen, pulling him to his feet. “You have the support of the Silver Lion Guild.”

Elizabeth, still shaken, stepped forward and nodded. “Should we register him?”

“I think that’s for the best,” Corin agreed. “It might help jog his memories, and it’ll definitely open doors for him. With a guild registration, he can travel more freely across the land.” Corin quickly filled out a form, handing it to Stephen. “Present this at the front desk, and they’ll give you a pendant.”

He smiled, giving Stephen a firm pat on the shoulder. “We’ll get—”

The door suddenly burst open, interrupting him.

A woman stood in the doorway, panting as if she had run the entire way. She wore a revealing black robe with a wide, pointed hat—a witch’s hat, Stephen thought. Her fiery red curls framed a pale face, her emerald eyes wild as they locked onto him.

“Found you!” she exclaimed breathlessly, a triumphant smile spreading across her lips.

Stephen, bewildered, glanced at Elizabeth and Corin, then pointed at himself. “Me?”

“I’ve been tracking some strange magical energy,” the woman continued, rushing over and invading Stephen’s personal space. She pressed close, staring into his eyes as if searching for something hidden deep within. “And I finally found it. I found a Glitched.”