Radiant sunbeams streamed through the window, casting elongated shadows that signaled the imminent arrival of dusk. John squinted as the persistent rays attempted to dazzle his vision once more. The warm light bathed the room in a golden hue, highlighting dust motes dancing in the air and creating an almost ethereal atmosphere.
Suddenly, a pulsating exclamation mark materialized in the center of his field of view. It glowed with an otherworldly light, seeming to hover just inches from his face. After a moment of confusion, he finally registered its presence, watching as it shrank and relocated to the bottom right corner of his sight, becoming a subtle but constant reminder of some unattended notification.
In his groggy state, John instinctively tried to brush away the peculiar symbol, his hand passing through the seemingly solid icon. His sleep-addled mind slowly caught up, reminding him that this was just an element of the mysterious interface. The realization brought with it a renewed sense of disorientation and he rubbed his eyes to help snap himself out of it.
Glancing around the vacant room, John took in the details he had missed earlier when he was busy playing with his inventory. The wooden furniture, the play of light and shadow on the walls, the faint scents of the tavern below - all of it seemed both familiar and alien. He pondered whether this solitude was a result of special treatment or if others simply preferred to avoid his company. The thought brought a mix of relief and loneliness.
Unconsciously, John began to whistle a soft, meandering tune, the sound filling the empty space around him. He caught himself and stopped, the sudden silence amplifying his sense of isolation.
Regardless, he found himself appreciating the unexpected privacy. "Having the room to myself is kind of nice," John mused aloud, his voice once again sounding strange to his own ears. He paused, realizing his mistake. "I mean, it's nice for her... for me. Whatever."
With a mental command that felt both natural and bizarre, John activated the exclamation mark. At first nothing happened, but then pulsing yellow letters appeared, each phrase waiting a few seconds before being replaced by the next.
Quest Log initializing.
Quest Log Updating.
Quest Log updated.
The icon responded immediately, expanding and gracefully gliding back to the center of John's view. It then smoothly transitioned leftward, transforming in a mesmerizing display of magical technology. The mark stretched and unfurled, becoming an ornate scroll with its ends coiling in opposite directions. The transformation was beautiful and unsettling in equal measure. "Man, if this was a video game, the graphics and attention to detail would make it a bestseller," he said to nobody in particular.
Upon interacting with this mystical document, John gingerly reached out to touch it with his mind rather than his hand. He absent-mindedly whistled a quiet tune as he opened the quest log, revealing three categories: Active, Inactive, and Complete. He checked each one, finding them all empty. Part of him wondered if they would populate like the map had, but he guessed he needed to be given a quest first. Shrugging, he closed the log and began a quick inventory of his body and meager belongings.
To his surprise, all of his wounds had healed without leaving a single scar. But he was naked. He quickly checked his inventory and saw that he hadn't accidentally disrobed in the middle of the night. Getting out of bed, he scanned the room and saw that all his clothes were folded and put on the only chair in the room. He held out the clothes to see how bad they were.
They still showed damage, but that was manageable. "I wonder if magic items are real?" he mused, unconsciously scratching his head. His hand accidentally grazed the tips of his horns, and the sharp prick caused him to recoil. He stuck his poked finger in his mouth out of reflex. Looking at it to make sure he wasn't bleeding, he picked up his clothes, and through the inventory put them on.
Stretching out, he felt the tail also extend and relax. He looked over his shoulder at his tail and saw it playfully swish back and forth. Finally, his stomach unleashed a growl that rivaled a jet engine's roar. John smacked his belly, muttering, "Can you not do that? It's embarrassing!"
As he opened the door to descend, a sudden memory flashed - the girl from last night locking it. 'Wait, did she lock it?' he pondered, scratching his chin. Shaking his head and rubbing his eyes, he tightened his blouse and started down the stairs.
A peculiar clicking noise caught his attention, causing him to pause and listen. The sound persisted as he resumed walking, and to his astonishment, he realized it emanated from below. Looking down, John was shocked to see bare hooves where his feet should be. He stood there, dumbfounded for what seemed like an eternity, before remembering his shoes. "Damn," was all he said as his brain slowly caught up.
Hurrying back to the room, he realized with dismay that they were nowhere to be found. "Great," he muttered. "I can't even leave the room without forgetting something. This day is off to a wonderful start." He whistled softly, trying to calm his nerves as he contemplated his next move.
Finding no trace of the missing shoes, John spent a few seconds checking his inventory too. "What the hell? Some asshole stole them?" he muttered, scratching his head and accidentally poking himself with the horns. Again. He felt his tail swish back and forth indignantly. Frustrated, he sighed and made his way back downstairs, softly whistling a nervous tune.
At the bottom of the stairs, John was greeted by Gareth, who appeared to be in better spirits and health after the healing. "Stars Blaze your eminence. You decide to finally grace us with your presence?" he said, his tone sounding a bit mocking. He beckoned with a spatula, and John could tell he wanted him to approach.
When John got close, Gareth leaned down a bit and half-whispered in his ear, "I don't know what you did to me, but I haven't felt this good in ages. Thank you."
Taken aback a bit, John looked up and put his hand on Gareth's shoulder. He smiled and said, "You're quite welcome."
Grrrrrrrrrrrrgl
John's stomach chose that moment to unleash another monstrous growl, causing him to blush furiously. He quickly removed his hand from Gareth's shoulder, trying to maintain his dignity. The fact that his stomach growled wasn't embarrassing. But having each and every single person in the tavern turn to look at him? That was. "I guess I'm a bit hungry," he said. To cover his embarrassment, he began whistling again, hoping Gareth hadn't noticed his discomfort.
Gareth didn't speak but instead pointed to a table. "Miss, go sit down." John looked at him as Gareth put his hands on John's shoulders, turned him to face the table and moved him towards it. John did as ordered and felt his tail swish back and forth off of the bench.
Moments later a plate of food was set forth in front of him. The second it came into view, the aroma wafted through his nostrils. Smells reminiscent of bacon and beef flooded his senses. As he looked down at the plate, John wasn't quite sure what he was looking at. He saw green and purple squares of something, a pink looking broccoli vegetable, some fractal looking thing and a piece of grilled meat that the pork and cow smell came from. The drool that came from him had to be wiped away. It smelled heavenly and was probably his first real meal on the planet. He looked back at Gareth, and down at the food. Gareth gave him an expectant look as if to tell him to dig in.
Grrrrrrrrrrrrgl
Before he did though, John looked at his inventory. He had 17 copper looking coins, and no real clue as to how much a meal like this would cost. His stomach growled in frustration. He remembered back to his days playing games as his only real benchmark for the cost of goods. 'Let's see,' he thought to himself, doing some quick math. 'A meal at the inn would normally cost a silver. A silver was equal to ten copper coins. Crap, this would be half my money.' He looked back at Gareth, and was a bit worried. "Uh...I don't have much. Is 10 copper enough? I can work-"
Gareth instantly shook his hands and waived his head no. "Elena, I don't know what a copper is, but this is on the house. Consider this payment to you for what you did for me."
John felt a wave of relief wash over him, followed quickly by confusion. He realized he'd slipped up again, mentioning currency that might not exist here. "Oh, I mean... thank you. That's very kind," he said, trying to cover his mistake. He began to dig into the meal, savoring the unusual but delicious flavors. As he ate, he couldn't help but wonder about the strange world he found himself in, with its unfamiliar foods and customs. His tail swished contentedly behind him, a constant reminder of his new form.
John looked at the food and then back at Gareth. "I don't know if I could eat all this food by myself. Would you like to join me?" It was a lie, but he thought it was a polite thing to do. Plus he'd rather have someone to talk-
GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGL
John's stomach let Gareth and half the country know he had just lied. It had claimed that food and heaven or hell would be damned if it was going to share. Gareth smiled and went back to the kitchen.
Taking in the sights of the tavern, the place looked different to John's eyes now that he wasn't being choked out. The walls were made of wood and plaster, with dark wood contrasting against the bone colored plaster. The floors were a cherry-colored hardwood. The crackling fireplace provided little more than aesthetics to the ambiance, and the long bar easily had room for seven or eight people. Of the twelve tables in the room six of them had one or two patrons, and one table had a group of 5. It was about as loud as you'd expect a tavern to be at that time of day. The front of the place had several large bay windows that could easily let in plenty of natural light. In the back, a stool sat next to a device that looked like a microphone. The stairs leading up were next to the stage, and the stairs leading down were under the stairs leading up. John was seated in one of the alcoves, which was probably for more intimate or private matters.
A moment later Gareth returned with a plate as large as his and sat down across from him. He quietly observed John as he looked around the place, and smiled as John's eyes fixated on various things. John noticed a few familiar faces, one of them staring back at him unabashedly. As their eyes met, John's cheeks flushed and he quickly turned back to his food. He grabbed a fork and took a bite.
Only one bite. That's all he was able to get in his mouth before his body froze up involuntarily. His eyes grew wide, and he slowly dipped his head to look down at the plate. His arm was frozen halfway between the plate and his face. And his brain only had time to process one thought. 'Oh. My. God.'
The explosion of flavors in John's mouth was unlike anything he had ever experienced. The combination of textures, spices, and aromas overwhelmed his senses, causing him to momentarily forget where he was. His tail, seemingly with a mind of its own, began to sway excitedly behind him.
Gareth watched John's reaction with amusement, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Is everything alright, Elena?" he asked, his voice tinged with a mixture of concern and humor.
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John struggled to regain his composure, swallowing the bite with difficulty. He opened his mouth to speak, but found himself at a loss for words. Instead, he began to let out a soft and appreciative moan. The food was as close to divine in nature as mortal food could get. Flavors mixed with textures in combinations John hadn't had in ages, if ever. He'd been to some fancy restaurants, and some real dive bars. Some of the best food was in some of the worst places, and this must have been the worst place he'd ever been.
Finally, he managed to stammer out, "This... this is incredible. I've never tasted anything like it."
Gareth raised an eyebrow at John's comment. He chuckled and said, "I'm glad you enjoy it. It's an old family recipe, with a few... special ingredients."
John savored each bite, his eyes closed in blissful concentration. The symphony of flavors danced across his palate, each component of the dish contributing to an extraordinary culinary experience. His tail swished contentedly behind him, reflecting his enjoyment.
As he ate, John couldn't help but wonder about the origins of these ingredients. He opened his eyes and looked at Gareth, who was watching him with a mixture of amusement and pride.
"This is... really incredible," John said between bites, only sometimes remembering to swallow before speaking. “Where do these ingredients come from?"
Gareth smiled, leaning back in his chair. "Most of it comes from local farms and forests. The meat is from a grunter. The vegetables are all native to this region."
The green and purple squares, upon tasting, revealed themselves to be some kind of exotic vegetable medley. The green ones had a crisp texture and a slightly bitter, refreshing taste reminiscent of cucumber but with a spicy afterkick. The purple squares were softer, almost melting on the tongue, with a sweet and tangy flavor profile similar to roasted beets but with a unique, almost berry-like undertone.
The pink broccoli-like vegetable turned out to be unexpectedly creamy when bitten into, with a delicate flavor that balanced between nutty and sweet. Its texture was a pleasant contrast to the crunchier elements on the plate.
The fractal-looking item was a revelation - it had a consistency somewhere between a pastry and a vegetable, with layers that separated easily. Each layer seemed to have a different flavor, ranging from herb-infused to cheese-like, creating a complex taste that evolved with each chew.
The sauce that tied everything together was rich and velvety, with a perfect balance of acidity and sweetness. It had depth from what seemed like slow-cooked aromatics, with hints of exotic spices John couldn't quite place but found utterly addictive.
Every bite was a harmonious blend of these elements, the flavors complementing each other in ways that made each mouthful a new experience. The combination of textures - from crisp to tender, from juicy to creamy - added another dimension to the meal, making it a true feast for the senses.
John's gaze slowly shifted from Gareth to the plate and back again, aware of the innkeeper's watchful eyes. Closing his eyes, he let out an involuntary moan of pleasure, unconcerned about the other patrons' attention. The flavors were divine, like tasting ambrosia itself. He knew life would pale in comparison unless he could savor every meal here. As he chewed and swallowed, the absence of the exquisite taste brought him back to reality. He found himself slouched on the bench, arms limp at his sides, the fork having fallen beside him.
Minutes later, John was shamelessly using his fingers to scoop up the last traces of sauce. Gareth had barely touched his own meal. Somehow, a second heaping plate appeared before John, which he devoured with equal enthusiasm. His distended stomach a testament to his feast, he looked up at Gareth with a contented smile. The innkeeper, nearly finished with his first serving, pointed at John and chuckled. "Do you need a moment?"
In his blissful state, John beamed back. "Oh my God Gareth, did you do this to me?" He gestured to his full belly. "Or is there someone else I need to hire as a personal chef?" The impending food coma reminded him of post-Thanksgiving drowsiness. 'Oh man, I really could go for a nap right now,' he mused.
Gareth's laughter brought him back to the present. "That'd be my wife. And we assumed you'd be hungry after sleeping for three days."
John, who had been only half-listening, snapped to attention. "I'm sorry, I think I misheard you. Did you say three days?"
"I hope you don't mind, but Agatha went into the drunk tank and changed your clothes," Gareth explained, sipping from his cup. John discreetly sniffed himself, surprised to find no offensive odors.
Gareth noticed and chuckled. "Don't worry. Even though you've been up there for three days without showering, eating, or moving much, you don't smell. Anyways, my wife took off your shoes, washed your clothes, and set your boots in a proper room for you once you woke up. We tried to put you in a proper bed, but you're quite heavy for your size. I was going to get Sven to move you, but Agatha shot that down." He indicated a man who had been staring at John throughout the meal.
"Uh, thanks." John looked back at Sven and saw a mournful smile on his lips. It was a bit creepy. He felt an involuntary shudder down his spine and his tail twitched and hit the bench. It stung. A few strands of hair were annoyingly in his eyes and he tucked them behind his ears.
"So this might sound odd, but what is this place?" John asked. Gareth looked confused, so he clarified. "I mean like the city. The country. The world. Gareth, I'm not really sure where I am, who I am, or how I got here. I know next to nothing." He rubbed his right temple knowing he'd probably be getting a headache.
Gareth leaned forward, his elbows on the table and he moved his head from side to side. He seemed to look a bit worried. "I don't see a head wound. Did a Rex get to you?"
John leaned back a bit frustrated and half threw up his arms. "I don't even know what a Rex is. Gareth, I'm not from around here."
Gareth leaned back and looked at John, his brow furrowed in thought. "Well, this is the Kingdom of Aerolith. Also known as the Kingdom of the Skyborne Spires. The capital is Skyhaven. We're in Zephyr's Reach, the 4th largest city in the kingdom near the southern borders. Uh..." He looked a bit confused as to what to say next. John realized he had basically asked the equivalent of someone asking him to "Tell me everything about America".
"Thanks for the info. That's more than I had 5 minutes ago." John put his hand on Gareth's and smiled. "I meant it when I said I know nothing. You could tell me the sky is purple and I wouldn't be able to say you're wrong."
Gareth chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "Well, I can assure you the sky isn't purple. But I'm curious, how much do you remember? Do you know about the different races, the country you’re from, or even basic geography?"
John's tail swished nervously as he considered his response. "Honestly? Not much at all. It's like I woke up here with a blank slate."
"Stars above," Gareth muttered. "Well, in Aerolith there are several races. You've got your humans, of course," Gareth began, taking a sip of his drink. "Like Agatha and me. Pretty versatile, can be found in just about any corner of the world."
John nodded, absorbing the information.
“You’ve got Dwarves, Elves, Orcs, Got a few Luminari around. There are other smaller enclaves of races too. Your Sylvari’s, Valkyrs Undras. And then there are... well, people like you."
John's ears perked up. "People like me?"
Gareth hesitated, seeming to choose his words carefully. "Well, you know. Demonborn."
“I know about Dwarves and Elves and Orcs. What are the Luminari?
Gareth leaned back in his chair, his gaze thoughtful as he began to describe the Luminari. "The Luminari are a sight to behold," he said, his voice filled with admiration. "They carry the unmistakable mark of their celestial heritage. Their skin often has a faint, almost ethereal glow, especially in dim light. It's like they're lit from within by a divine light."
John listened intently, picturing the beings in his mind.
"Their eyes are particularly striking," Gareth continued. "They can be any color, but they're always bright and seem to shimmer, like they're reflecting the stars themselves. When a Luminari is experiencing strong emotions, their eyes can even glow more intensely. I saw one that once had Pink eyes."
John found himself fascinated by the description, eager to learn more.
"Their hair is usually long and lustrous, often in shades of silver, gold, or pure white," Gareth added. "But there's something unique about it—Luminari hair changes color with their emotions. When they’re happy or calm, it retains its usual color. When they're angry, it turns a fiery red or orange. When they're sad, it shifts to deep blues or purples. And when they're fearful or anxious, it can become a stark, shimmering white."
Gareth's eyes twinkled with amusement as he continued, "Ah, and when a Luminari experiences love or lust, their hair takes on a rich, vibrant pink or a deep, passionate crimson. It's quite a sight to see—impossible to miss and beautifully captivating. The color shift is so intense that you can almost feel the emotion radiating from them."
Gareth leaned forward, his expression serious. "But it's not just their appearance that's remarkable. The Luminari have an aura of calm and peace about them. Being near one can feel like basking in warm sunlight, which can be very comforting or inspiring to those around them."
John nodded, absorbing the details. He could almost see a Luminari standing before him, their celestial light casting gentle shadows in the room. "They sound incredible," he said quietly.
"They are," Gareth agreed. “It’s where we get the saying ‘You’re showing your true colors’ from.”
Gareth seemed to look at John as if pondering something and then finally spoke up. "Look, I know of a few adventurers that come through here from time to time. One of them is good friends with my wife. I'll ask her to see if they can help you out. Worst comes to worst we can put out a message through the telegraphs or even the order. Someone will be able to help you."
"Gareth, can I ask you something?" John said. Gareth nodded. "Yesterday...I mean the other day you seemed ready to throw me out or finish me off. Today, we're having breakfast like, well, friends. Which I appreciate. And I hope you believe me when I say I could really use some friends since I don't have any here. But…what changed?"
After a confusing moment of silence, Gareth finally spoke. "It's been three days?" he said. Realizing that his words didn't provide enough explanation, he continued, "Sorry, that usually explains it. We realize that you're just an initiate, so the longest abilities typically last for a day or maybe two. But you were asleep for three days. And not just asleep. If we hadn't checked up on you, we might have thought you were dead. So after the third day when I still felt like this, we knew you had actually healed me. You said you wanted to help me, and you did. You didn't ask for anything in return, just if you could help, and you did."
A woman came up to the table and sat a drink in front of John. He looked up at her to thank her, and noticed she was considerably different than the rest of the women here. A bit older, maybe in her thirties, she wore a full kitchen apron instead of a blouse that was tastefully open at the top. She had sweat on her forehead and her hair was kept back in a tight bun. She didn't have makeup on, or anything to make her stand out, but she looked at John and then took a seat next to Gareth.
She held out a hand for John and he shook it. She gave the motion an odd look like she didn't know what he was doing. She spoke slowly at first but over the sentence her words resumed a normal speed. "Uhhh. It's a pleasure to meet you when you're awake. I'm Gareth's wife Agatha."
"Hi Agatha, I'm Jo- Elena," John said, remembering to use that name a bit too late. He moved on before she asked too many questions. "Before I say anything else I need to tell you something. If you're the chef, I need some important information. Firstly, how does Gareth stay so thin if you constantly cook like that? Second, how do I get you to cook for me for the rest of my life and third, what was it that you cooked?"
Agatha blushed a bit before smiling. "I take it you liked it?" John nodded immediately. Agatha continued. "Well, I'm sure that we can get some more." She started to get up from the table, but John held up his hand. He was overly stuffed at this point.
"No no," he said but hurried to correct himself. "I mean yes. I'd love some more. But I'm really full right now. I'll probably want more later though. Please, sit!" She sat back down and looked at John. Gareth spoke up next. "Honey, when are your friends coming back again?"
"You mean Lele and Lilly?" Agatha asked. "Yeah, of any of them really," he replied.
"I think they'll be here in a couple of days. Why? Does Elena need them?" She asked while glancing at John.
"Probably. I think she was attacked by a Rex," he said.
"What's a Rex? Is it like a Tyrannosaurus Rex?" John asked, truly confused. They both looked at him as confused as he was.
"See what I mean?" Gareth asked. Agatha grabbed John's chin and moved his head. John's tail came up and helped her turn his head to the side. John smacked his tail which stung surprisingly intensely. His tail flicked his hand back, which also stung.
Agatha traced her hand against John's jawline and checked his neck and the back of his head, roughly shoving his head down towards the table. She seemed quite insistent to make sure he had nothing on his head.
"Are you sure?" She moved John's head the other direction and vigorously inspected his other side. John felt his tail move back and forth like a cat's. "I don't see any punctures." Agatha had gotten up and sat down next to John at this point and was inspecting everything closely.
Gareth oh so helpfully added "Remember, she heals super quickly. She probably healed it without realizing it." Agatha looked at John and gently caressed his cheek. "Oh you poor thing! Of course I'll tell Lele about you. Don't you worry. They'll get you fixed right up."
John sighed.