The first thing Nate did was take stock of his cash reserves. He had already spent a good portion of his starting gear funds. He dumped out that purse and counted its contents, finding three silver coins and 10 copper. He now knew that it took 100 coppers to equal a silver. Nice and simple.

Next, he poured out the contents of the purse he had stolen from the unfriendly orc. The weight of the purse, much heavier than his own, had filled him with a thrill of anticipation since he lifted it. Still, he couldn’t help but give a small gasp at what he saw.

The first thing he noticed was that there wasn’t a single sign of rusty copper in the bunch. A quick count showed there were around twenty silvers, all identical to the three he had already examined. What drew his eye and his gasp, however, was the single, gleaming gold coin, the last to tumble out, landing on his saggy bed with a solid thunk.

Nate had no idea what a gold coin was worth. He had watched several transactions at the general store to get a sense of what things were worth, but he hadn’t seen a single glimmer of gold there. If the conversion rates were consistent, though, that meant this single gold coin was worth 100 silver. Which meant that orc he had robbed had started with over twenty times the starting capital that Nate had.

Nate glanced at the door to his little room furtively, making sure he was still alone. He did not want anyone to see him with his pilfered fortune. He was excited at the sudden windfall, sure. But he also knew this was dangerous. A handful of silver going missing could be shrugged off as bad fortune. This kind of sum, though, would be missed. Rich people had a habit of reacting badly when their stuff was taken. That was a lesson Nate had learned the hard way.

Scanning the room quickly, Nate spotted a floor board slightly raised from the others. Working carefully with his dagger, he was able to lift it just enough to reveal a dark space filled with dust between his own floor and the ceiling of the floor below. He cut a small portion of the cloth he had purchased and wrapped most of the pilfered coins, including the gold one, in the cloth before stuffing it into the space, tucking it as far to the side as he could comfortably reach. He then shoved the lifted board back into place, pressing firmly with his booted foot until it almost matched the others. The coins out of sight, he gave a small sigh of relief. It wasn’t a particularly original or secure hiding space. But it would do for now.

That done, Nate turned to his second task. The available tools were extremely limited. Nate had his cloth, a few different types of thread, and a small pouch of pins. He cursed himself for not thinking to obtain a pair of scissors. He would have to use his knife to make cuts. Also, while he did technically know how to do a stitch by hand, it had been years since he had attempted these kinds of alterations without the assistance of a machine.

Despite that, the modifications to his clothing went surprisingly well. He found that, even using the dagger, his cuts were surprisingly sharp, and even without any kind of marking tool he was quickly able to form the pieces he needed. He added an inseam pocket to one side of his pants, fully expecting the results to be a disaster. But his fingers felt nimble and strong, his stitching straight and precise. The pocket was completed so quickly and so cleanly that he was left in a mild state of shock. Then he remembered something. With a mental click, he successfully pulled up his character sheet.

{Nathan Sutton Rogue Level 1 HP: 15/15 MP: 3/3

Stats

Strength: 5

Constitution: 5 Free Points: 2

Dexterity: 10

Willpower: 5

Intelligence: 6

Charisma: 7}

He had noted the relatively high mark he had for dexterity before, but hadn’t really considered the implications until now. Nate had always been deft with his hands. His brief experiment with needle and thread, however, proved that these stats were not just for show. Somehow, those numbers represented real increases in his abilities. With curiosity, he considered the two free points listed. As he focused on it, the point value started to blink.

{You have 2 free points available. Would you like to assign them?

Yes/No}

After only a moment’s thought, Nate selected “Yes,” then added both these points to his dexterity, raising it to 12. He felt a faint rush of warmth, though it was a distant echo of the flush of heat that had rushed through him back in the dark chamber with Jean. Then it was gone.

Nate returned to his work, quickly forming and attaching two inset pockets, one hidden near the mouth of each of his sleeves. He didn’t have anything like elastic to keep the open mouth of the pocket taut, but he made the pockets as tight as he could. He also angled them so that, when his arms were extended in front of him, the open side of the pockets was pointed directly up. It wasn’t a perfect solution. But it would do for now.

Nate had some other alterations to his clothing in mind, but those could wait until later. He had no way of measuring the passage of time other than the general impression that the sun was lower in the sky than it had been when he started. Perhaps a few hours had passed, but that was just a guess. He packed up his sewing supplies, making a mental note of others he needed to acquire, before turning back to considering his coins. He tucked two silver coins into the new pocket in his left sleeve, moved his arm around a bit to see if the coins stayed secure, then added a third to the pouch just to make the fit tighter. Satisfied, he placed a few more silver and all his copper back into his original pouch before throwing it in his new pant pocket. He then took the now empty pouch he had stolen from the orc and tied it to his belt.

He had only just finished tying the simple knot when there was a groan from the door behind him.

“Right this way, right this way, young man,” the gruff voice of Tully the orc said as the door swung open.

The boy who entered, for he couldn’t have been more than 16 or 17 years old, had wide, owl-like eyes, narrow shoulders, and a weak chin. His sandy brown hair was long and disheveled, giving him the look of someone who had just rolled out of bed. He wore loose, billowing robes that looked like they had been stolen from a father or older brother, so comically large did they hang on the young man’s frame. The boy started, skittish as a mouse, when he saw Nate standing there, watching him.

{Name: Christophe Class: Mage Level 1 Race: Human}

The information popped into view above the boy’s head a moment later, though it didn’t tell Nate much that he couldn’t have guessed. Still, he tried to give a warm smile.

“Here we are, nice and cozy,” Tully said, smiling wide enough to display his missing teeth. “You two will be roommates for a while, so get along and don’t cause any trouble. I’d say you should get to know each other, but there will be time for that later. The celebration in the central plaza will be starting soon, and you don’t want to miss that. If you need anything, you just find old Tully and I’ll do my best to take care of you.” The old orc gave another wheezing laugh, as though this was a great joke. Then he nodded to the both of them and left, closing the door behind him.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Nate the newcomer just stared at each other for a long moment. Nate was the first to break the silence.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Nate.” Nate extended his hand, but the boy just stared at it, his eyes wide with fright. Nate drew his hand back. Maybe shaking hands was an earth thing.

“Oh. Yes. Sorry. Nate, you said? I thought your name was Nathan Sutton,” the boy finally forced out, the words tumbling over themselves in a rush.

“Well, that’s my whole name. But people just call me Nate.” Nate said.

“I see,” the boy said, though his tone said that he was still confused. As he spoke, the boy’s eyes flickered around the room, taking in the shabby beds and shuttered window. He did not look overly impressed.

“And you must be Christophe,” Nate said, taking another swing at provoking a conversation with his new roommate.

“What? Oh, yes. Well, no. Not really. That’s just the name I chose for Farandway. You know, like in the stories. But I guess it’s my name now. So yes, you can call me Christophe.”

Nate, of course, had no idea what stories Christophe was referring to. But he continued to smile and nod, trying to put the young man at ease. He was searching for something to say when Christophe’s eyes fell on Nate’s sewing kit sitting on one of the beds.

“Oh, is that your bed then? That’s fine. I’ll take this one. I don’t really care. I must say, I was really hoping that the Traveler’s Retreat would be a bit, well, nicer, I guess. Not really a surprise, though. After all, it is set up for the unaffiliated and the factionless. I bet you don’t have a faction, either. How much money did you get to start with from the character creation?” Christophe looked at Nate with wide, expectant eyes.

Nate blinked, trying to process the word vomit the young man had just spewed all over him as he cursed internally. This was his roommate? Jean had told him that he his bizarre attribute meant that he was going to be very lucky. It didn’t seem to be working.

Still, Nate kept his smile plastered on as he thought about what to say. Again, he was struck by the fact that everyone he met seemed to have access to a pool of knowledge about what was going on in this strange place that Nate didn’t share. It seemed best, for now, to keep his ignorance to himself. He decided to try diverting Christophe into a new topic.

“I see that you are a Mage,” Nate said, completely ignoring the boy’s question. He gave a silent sigh of relief when his new roommate’s eyes lit up with excitement.

“Oh, yes! Yes, I was very happy when I saw that Mage was available. I thought it would be, but you never know. Stats are hard to predict, after all. But when I saw Mage, I just knew I had to take it. A lot of people don’t want to be a Mage, of course, because they start so weak. But just wait until I start leveling up!” Christophe was bouncing with excitement by the end of his little spiel.

“So, can you actually do magic, then?” Nate asked, and this time he was genuinely curious. He had accepted the idea that magic was a thing in this world in an abstract sort of way. But he was still having a hard time wrapping his brain around it.

“Of course! Nothing too impressive yet, of course. I only have my one starter spell. But it’s a good one. Watch!” Christophe stood a little straighter, letting Nate see for the first time that the boy was actually surprisingly tall, perhaps around six foot. The boy puffed out his chest, squinted his eyes in concentration, and began moving the fingers of his right hand in some kind of intricate pattern

There was a sudden stillness to the air in their confined room. Nate tensed, unsure of what to expect.

Then, with a shimmer, the dark space was lit up. A small globe of pure, pale light around the size of an orange was suddenly hovering just over Christophe’s outstretched hand. The boy stared at it with obvious awe.

Nate watched the light float there for a few seconds. Then, with a very faint pop, it vanished, plunging the room back into gloom.

It was…well, it wasn’t what he had expected, if Nate was honest. Sure, it was kind of cool. But looking at the chipper, talkative young man in his thin robes and with no weapon in sight, he couldn’t imagine how a floating lightbulb was going to be all that useful if he found himself in a jam. He had expected magic to be a little more wonderous. Still, the kid was looking at him expectantly. Nate decided to humor him.

“That’s amazing!” Nate said, doing his best to sound impressed. Christophe beamed and nodded enthusiastically.

“I know, right! I’ve already thought of dozens of uses for it. It’s only a Level 1 spell, of course, but if I can advance it, I think I could do some really impressive things. I was planning on heading straight over to the welcome celebration. Want to walk together?”

Nate blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change of topic. His smile faltered just a bit as he tried and failed to come up with a reason why he could not, in fact, walk with Christophe. The idea of spending the next twenty minutes listening to the kid blather made his teeth itch. But he didn’t want to alienate his roommate on his first night in Farandway. So, with a resigned set of his shoulders, Nate nodded. With one last glance to make sure his special floorboard was good and settled, he followed Christophe out of the room. The boy was already talking.

Nate paused briefly as they passed the rundown practice yard, searching over the grounds for a bit until he found a handful of rocks he liked the look of. They weren’t ideal, but he could look for a better alternative later. He tucked a half dozen of the rocks, all roughly the size of a walnut, into the empty purse on his waist, then secreted a last rock in the pocket sewn into his right sleeve. Christophe watched him curiously the whole time, but didn’t ask what he was doing.

With that done, they resumed their walk through the spiraling streets towards the city center, the massive obelisk always visible as a guide.

The light in the sky was fading as the sun set, painting the scene splashes of crimson, gold, and deepening shadows. The previously empty streets that Nate had passed through on his way to the Traveler’s Retreat were now filled with a wide variety of people, all moving towards the city center. Christophe spent most of the walk giving a long, rambling description of the many ideas he had for using his light spell.

“Oh, and let’s say I was out exploring a dungeon. Only the floor collapses, and I suddenly find myself deep underground, without any of my party around to help. And what if that part of the dungeon is a maze, and I’m trapped until I can find my way out? Well, most people would be lost forever. But me?” Christophe gave a little smug flourish of his hand, as though he were again holding the floating orb of light. “No problem.”

The boy talked and talked, though most of his scenarios involved him unexpectedly finding himself somewhere dark, only to be miraculously rescued by his conjured light. Nate spoke little, getting by with nods and the occasional grunts of agreement. His eyes wandered constantly, studying all the buildings and side streets as he formed a mental map of the city.

After what seemed an eternity, they arrived at their destination. The central square was a massive, circular space of cobbled stones surrounded on all sides by multi-story buildings, each of which had a large balcony packed with people. There were the now familiar figures of Nate’s fellow travelers, most clad in armor or some kind of robes, scattered everywhere in clumps, and the din of conversations and laughter filled the air. Street vendors called out to passersby, each claiming that they had the finest goods at the best prices. Near the center of the square, massive tables, each at least twenty feet long, had been laid out end to end. Each was laden with mountains of food, though much of it looked quite strange to Nate’s eyes. People milled around the tables, helping themselves to morsels and talking. The scene reminded him of Time’s Square on New Year’s Eve.

Towering above the scene was the strange obelisk. The structure, which had seemed supernaturally tall even from a distance, was truly jaw-dropping close up. It looked to be made of the same white stone as the rest of the structures in the city. It was perfectly round, and the base had to be as wide as an entire city block. But it was perfectly smooth, with a flaw or blemish, and it rose from the center of the square until it seemed to disappear into the sky above. Despite the deep shadows being cast across the square by the falling sun, the tower itself cast no shadow. In fact, Nate realized with a start that the entire structure was glowing slightly. It was a subtle thing, almost imperceptible in the light of day. As the sun sank lower, though, and the darkness in the surrounding city deepened, it became more obvious that the surreal light the tower was somehow casting would ensure that the city center was constantly bathed in a mild twilight. Just looking at it made Nate feel slightly dizzy, his mind refusing to accept the impossibility of it.

Nate and Christophe both stood there, stunned, for a full minute. It was the longest the boy had gone without talking in quite a while. Then, almost in unison, they both seemed to break out of their trance and looked to each other. Nate smiled.

“Hungry?”

They wandered toward the heavily laden tables, drawing closer and closer to the tower at the heart of Dawn City. While it cast no shadow, there was an oppressive sense of weight to being so close. Most of the crowd seemed to pay it no mind, however. Nate tried his best to put the odd tableau out of his mind. He was hungry, and tonight’s festivities were funded by the city’s lord. He wasn’t going to let some creepy magical tower ruin his chance at a free meal.

He had barely reached the end of the nearest table, however, before all thoughts of food went out the window.

“You! Human!” came a deep, snarling bark from behind him. Nate felt his heart drop into his stomach. With a cold sense of dread, he turned.

Only a few feet away stood a massive orc. A familiar orc.

Grundar’s beady eyes narrowed, his lips curling back from his glistening, yellow tusks.

As Nate watched the great brute, he wondered again when this supposed luck that Jean had promised was supposed to kick in.