Sometime between the second slice of pot roast and a third helping of carrots, Milo began to relax and eat slower. Somewhere inside of him, a little foreman read a dial that showed nutrient flow was back to almost normal and sent a message to the arms to quit shoveling things into the mouth. This was amended when dessert showed up, and the arms once again engaged to acquire this new and colorful fuel. Milo had eaten jelled food before. All the varieties of Food Cubes were some sort of jelled nutrient paste.

This was different. It was red and tasted like cherries. Everyone agreed it was better than Food Cubes.

Finally, with most of his mind shut down and rested, Milo focused on the people at the table and slowly woke up. The adults were sipping tea and listening to the younger people talk excitedly, and as the words finally came into focus, Milo realized they were talking about the game. He tried to remember the conversation, but too much of his thoughts were on the food.

"...and then Butch nailed the second ogre in his bad leg, knocking him down, and I got to do a Leaping Thrust right through his heart for the kill." Min was acting out the event.

"And while you were doing that victory dance, the other ogre clocked you in the skull." Butch smacked a fist into his palm for emphasis.

"Victory dances have to be done for first kills! I accept the consequences. Besides, Belinda is there to patch us up. Right, Big Sister Empress?"

Belinda said, "Yep, that's me, the local band-aid station. Just remember, I can't heal you until after the fight, or you lose experience when the system adds me to the party."

Milo spoke up. "I feel bad that I missed your first big adventure."

Butch patted him on the shoulder. "Play when you can, but when work calls, you go to work. Mama says you've got some important stuff going on that puts food on the table and money in our bank accounts. We all understand. We'll keep a spot for you in the group, even if we pass you up."

"Yeah, you can be our torch bearer when we're rich and famous.

Belinda smiled at Milo. "And based on their first adventures, I'm sure that won't take long." She winked. "There's a few details I notice haven't been brought up yet."

Minn looked stricken. "Um, we can skip those. Really! Milo would be bored." The rest of the group seemed to share her attitude.

Belinda smiled evilly. "I'm sorry. As the person who generously granted you those special Classes, Milo deserves to hear about your first adventure."

Mama looked around the table at their stricken faces while Milo waited, curious. "I'd like to hear this too. I'm sure all of us will benefit from a retelling. Go ahead, dear."

----------------------------------------

"Follow the yellow brick road?" Kendrick the Tree-Shaper pointed his crude staff in the direction of the stone-paved road. Like any Wolf Blood, he had turned his nose up at the pile of metal armor and weapons offered by Tallsqueak. He would wear the hides of the creatures he slew and craft his own staff with the help of the tree spirits.

Burgram of the Stone Clan stooped to touch it, the type and quality of rock instantly apparent to his gnomish senses. "Crappy sandstone, not good rock at all. I'm not sure we should go this way. The other two are solid granite paving stones and crushed andesite gravel."

"Well, we have three choices and a helpful signpost." Veth pointed at the sign, their long-fingered hands running along the common runes that made up the three names. Brad was slowly getting used to his character. His sense of touch and smell was much greater than in the real world. He could almost see a pair of strong hands moving the word chisel along the boards, the carver taking his time and making even this common sign a work of art.

"Tulgey Wood, The Hungry Acre Woods, and The Which Woods. Those all sound a little weird." Mindak didn't like the look of any of the paths that headed into the dark forests. "Can you scout from the air?"

Yan looked at the dense woods. "I don't think flying overhead will do anything but tire me out and get me stuck in a tree. Sorry, Wind Sisters have a reputation to uphold. Those trees are just too close together."

The Orc Spear Master looked at the three choices, each leading to a dense section of forest. So, which way do we go?"

The gnome started walking down the granite path. "Excellent choice, sister. The Which Way leads to the Which Woods. Thanks for choosing the way I wanted to go."

Minn twirled her spear. "I'm still going to blame you if I get eaten by something gross."

The party moved along the granite pathway and into the Which Woods, followed by their chaperone, Empress Belinda. "Keep in mind if you call me in, I get half the treasure and first pick. And your experience will be crap."

Burgram took a few practice swings of his hammer. "We got this, B. And if we don't? Well, put us back together." With that, he headed down the path and into the woods, followed by his companions. They'd only gone a hundred steps when they came to a clearing, with the road traveling through it and into the woods again. To one side was a small roadside stand with a sign that read 'Questions: 1 copper.' Seated on a stool, reading from a large, red book, was an old woman dressed in a black robe with a pointed black hat. Leaning against her stand was an old broom.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Burgram held up his hand for the others to stop. The old woman looked at them, waved, and went back to her book. Min stepped ahead of her brother and looked down at him. "What's the hold-up? It's an old lady."

"She looks like a guide of some sort. How about I talk to her, and you can hang up back here for a rescue?" Yan began walking forward, and the Half-Orc Spear Master joined her.

The woman looked up and marked her place. "Hello, dearies. It is always nice to meet new travelers." Then she thought about it: "No, usually nice? Sometimes? Always is such a definitive statement. I don't want to go that far. Let's say that I hope it is nice to meet you."

Yan was a little puzzled by the statement. "Does it matter? Isn't saying 'Always nice to meet new people.' just a pleasant sort of greeting?"

The woman opened her book and began writing. "Oh, I don't have those two yet, certainly not with that exact wording and inflection. Thank you deary." She put two copper on the counter and pushed them towards Yan.

"What is the money for?"

"Oh, I have that one. Several times, actually. But I'll play by my rules." She added a third copper.

Minn started laughing. "She's not answering questions; she's buying them."

The old woman smiled and nodded. "Good of you to notice. I'm collecting them for my book. So often, people don't know which question to ask or even which question to answer, let alone which questions they shouldn't be asking. My book should help some of them, some of the time, maybe."

The others joined the two women. Burgram tried to look at the book, but he wasn't tall enough. "So, you sit here all day and write down questions people ask?"

Another copper was put on the counter. Another notation was made in the book. She smiled. "Thank you. Now, it's possible that you all have some questions you'd just love to ask."

Burgram scowled, "But you aren't answering questions; you are just collecting them. Why should we waste time with that?"

Minn laughed at her brother. "You are so grumpy since you got short. And look, you earned a copper. At this rate, you'll be rich in a few hundred years."

Yan looked at the broom and the old woman's hat. "You aren't a witch."

"No, dearie, not usually, but I do love dressing this way. These are my great-grandmother's favorite clothes. She wore them until the day they burned her at the stake. It took a long time since this outfit was fireproof. She was known as the Wicked Which of the West. She has such great questions. She'd look at an invading army and say, 'Which one of you wants to die first?' or 'Which of your daughters do I give to the dragon, and Which has to marry the pig farmer?' I'm afraid I'll never live up to her, but I'm trying. Sometimes, maybe not. I have trouble making strong statements, and I'm worse at decisions. It's the curse of my family. Either you're a great Which, or you get caught up in wondering which side of the bed to get up on or which food to have for breakfast. Boiled groats or pickled eggs?"

She sighed. "You see, children, decisions lead to actions, and actions lead to consequences. And since I don't know which consequence I least want to suffer, I have trouble making decisions."

Burgram was getting tired of the talk. This was the part in video games where he usually hit the 'skip' button. "You should tell us what to expect in this wood, and then we'll come back with some good questions for you as a reward."

She looked at him and narrowed her eyes. "I should? But if something bad happens, you'll blame me for sending you that way, and if you triumph, the terrible creatures here will be upset with me for warning you. No matter which thing happens, I may be a very unhappy Which. Better to make no decision and live in happy ignorance of the consequences."

The gnome decided he'd had enough. "You're useless."

"And you like pie too much. Good day to you, children. May you avoid making the wrong decision at the right time or the right decision at the wrong time. And remember to keep asking questions." At this point she took the small sign on her stand and flipped it from open to close and ignored anything they said. The rest of the group caught up with Burgram, who hadn't gotten too far, his legs being quite short. Watching him trying to keep up with the half-orc amused everyone. Min took one step for every four Butch took.

The path led around a long curve and into another clearing dotted with small berry bushes only a foot or two high. On a small table in the middle of the path was a pie, freshly hot from the oven. Next to it was a small sign, "Free pie for hungry travelers."

Everyone looked at Burgram, whose stomach began to rumble at that point. He eyed the pie suspiciously but was obviously tempted. "It's been a long time since breakfast," he said.

Mindak looked down at him. "Race you."