Topher managed to find the inn fairly quickly, despite his inability to read any writing on the signs of the village's various larger buildings; he just followed his nose to the largest building with food-and-beer scents. Entering through a thick oaken door, he squinted around, trying to get his bearings.

The common room was much larger than the inn he'd been staying in back in the city -- Strathmore, damn it, Strathmore -- but was significantly more rustic; most of the floors and furniture were bare wood rather than the carpeted and cushioned sorts he'd gotten used to. There was a desk near the entrance, a large bar further in, and a grand sweeping staircase that led up and over the bar onto a large balcony; he also thought he saw a smaller staircase tucked around the near corner, which looked significantly less flamboyant. This place must be where all the partying happens. That'll make sleeping fun. He stepped cautiously up to the counter, trying not to trip over the hem of his new robe, and found there was a person-shaped blob there waiting for him rather patiently. He ducked his head in embarrassment. "Sorry. I'm still kind of turned around."

"No problem, sir!" The voice coming from the blurry person behind the counter was young, cheerful, and female; Topher cringed internally for some reason, then wondered why he'd done that. He shook himself. "Are you looking for a meal, or for lodging?"

"Both, I guess. How much are rooms? And do you know of a place in town that can fix these?" He proffered his broken spectacles, a little sadly.

The young woman reached over and took them, looking them over, then handed them back. "The owner of the item shop might be able to fix them. I could walk you over, if you'd prefer?"

Topher chuckled. "I'm not that feeble. But let's get the room out of the way. I'd like a single, for a week to start. How much will that be?"

"One bronze a day for a single, sir!" said the girl, bowing enthusiastically. "But we can give you a discount for extended stays. Would you be able to pay five bronze for a week?"

Topher nodded, handing over a silver coin. "Let's start for two weeks, then." The young lady -- the innkeeper, maybe? -- nodded and smiled, accepting the coin in a hand that felt too warm to Topher. She placed it in a little wooden tray, then bustled around behind the counter for a few moments, eventually producing a small iron key. "You'll be in room four, sir. May I have your name, for the registry?"

"Topher Bailey." Topher was too old and tired to come up with a cool-sounding pseudonym to dodge assassins. If anybody was after him, they could just come and kill him and save him the trouble of getting any older. "Thank you." He took the key and placed it in his jeans pocket. I really need to wash these. "Where's the item shop located? And do you have a place in town to do laundry?"

"Oh, I can do laundry services for you!" The young woman sounded scandalized at the thought that he might have to do his own laundry. "Just place them in a bag outside your door, Mister Bailey. I'll take care of everything." She pointed out towards the door. "The item shop is straight across the town square from us; look for the shop with the little bag on the sign." Topher hoped he could tell a blob-shaped sign that looked like a bag from another blob-shaped sign. He nodded, thanking her, and headed out across the street.

The shopkeeper of the item shop was a tiny gnome, maybe about a foot tall; he had to climb up a ladder onto a stool just to reach counter-height to speak with Topher. But he was positively delighted at the opportunity to fix Topher's glasses; "No charge, no charge," said the gnome, already whisking out a set of tools, "it's a privilege just to work with craftsmanship like this. Be done in a squiff!" What the hell is a squiff? thought Topher, but did not object; he wasn't about to turn down anything free. He wanted to look around the shop while the little creature worked, but couldn't do so without his glasses anyway, so he just squinted and watched while the gnome used a tiny torch to heat and un-bend the frames, buff scuffs and chips out of the lenses, and re-seat the screws that operated the folding arms of the glasses. In no time at all, he was done, and he held them out to Topher cheerfully. "There you are, big fellow! Try them on for me? It may take a few attempts to get the fit proper."

Topher put on his glasses, and immediately let out a sigh of relief; the world resolved instantly into its familiar sharp delineations, and the arms and pads snugly gripped his temples and nose as if they'd been molded to his face. "Whoa. A perfect fit." He tried to give the gnome a silver coin, but the tiny little creature just pushed it away, making demurring noises.

"Always a pleasure sir, always a pleasure. Let me know if I can get you anything else!" The gnome scurried down the ladder to the base of his stool and scampered off; Topher didn't see where he went, but was shortly startled half to death by seeing the gnome pop out of the bottom of a display case and start polishing something. Oh damn. He's got little tunnels built all through the place so he can get to each display. That's clever. He wandered around for a while, looking at items, but most were things he didn't need; he ended up just buying some spare clothes, just so he'd have something to wear while his normal clothes were being laundered.

"Can I interest you in a magic bag?" the gnome popped up and smiled at Topher. "We got 'em on sale! Only twenty gold!"

Topher pondered the opportunity; How much gold do I even have left, anyway? He checked his coin pouch and discovered he was down to about thirty gold; not broke, but low enough that he would need to come up with some way of making money eventually. And definitely low enough that he couldn't afford any magic bags. He shook his head sadly at the gnome. "A little out of my league, pal. Sorry."

"Another time, another time!" The gnome scurried into a little door at the base of a cabinet and disappeared, then reappeared behind the counter again. "Can I get you anything else?"

"Not unless you have any spellbooks," Topher sighed. To his surprise, the gnome scurried down the ladder again, then popped out on the other side of the room, beckoning him over; after he'd crossed the shop, the little man pointed with an extending little rod at a series of books on a shelf inside of a locked glass cabinet. "Standard beginner spellbook; a hundred gold. Also got a scroll of neophyte prayers for fifty, but I imagine you already know those, what with bein' a Priest Class and all!"

Topher frowned, then sighed. "I wish. But I'm a little low on funds for either of those." He couldn't even imagine somehow getting another hundred and fifty gold; the deal they'd made with Oguro had been a once-in-a-lifetime thing. This is why Cailu was so desperate to swindle us, he realized grimly. A thousand-gold haul would be pretty tempting. Then the names that had run through his mind triggered other, less pleasant memories, and he shied away from those.

"No worries sir, no worries! They'll be here if you ever have good fortune." The gnome disappeared again, then reappeared behind the counter; Topher was going to get dizzy spinning around to follow his movements. He made his goodbyes and went back outside, reeling a little under the weight of the things he'd remembered. Cailu murdered; Oguro murdered. Did I find out who killed them? He shook his head, as if trying to shake the memories off. Bury the past. Gonna get a new start.

He spent the next few hours wandering around the village, familiarizing himself with its major landmarks; there weren't many. The five big stone buildings in the center of town were the inn, a garrison, the item shop, a smithy, and some kind of communal storage facility; the garrison also doubled as a town hall, although the mayor was apparently not in residence at present. So: three shops, two infrastructure buildings, two and a half farms, and maybe thirty residences; there was no fucking way this town was logistically self-sufficient. Well, guess I'll have plenty of time to investigate, thought Topher sourly. Seeing as how I'm stuck here. He made his way back to the inn and re-greeted the young lady at the counter; with his glasses, he could see that she was in her late twenties and was devastatingly adorable. He felt immensely more uncomfortable immediately. "Uh, hi, again. You said I was in room four? Where's that?"

"Oh, your glasses look very nice!" She clapped a little, smiling; Topher's discomfort increased. "I'm Elara, by the way -- Elara Gilbert. My father built this inn." She took his hand, which made his skin crawl, and tugged him gently away towards the smaller staircase between the desk and the bar. "Your room is up here on the second floor -- well, all of our rooms are on the second floor, the first floor is really only for the kitchen and the dining room and the bar -- but you're here in the back, on right side of the left-hand leg of the hallway. You might run into Mrs. Blaise once in a while -- lovely lady, lives with her cat, been here for years -- across the hall, but there's nobody next door to you, at least not for now, we might get someone later in the week." She bustled him to his door. "You might also want to keep it down a bit in the mornings on weekends, there's Mister Slaugh in room one, he's an orc and he drinks a lot on Fridays and Saturdays so he gets a little cranky the next morning. And of course there's Mister Varissian in room two, but he's an elf and he wouldn't blink if you burned the inn down around him. We get all kinds here." Plucking the key deftly from his hand as he fumbled it out, she slotted it gracefully in the door and flung it open with a practiced flick of her wrist. "Laundry in the mornings, cleanings on Sundays, warn me if you throw up or something so I can bring up the mop and bucket. There's no heated water but Mister Varissian in room two is a mage and he can heat up a bucket for you if you give him a few coppers, adds up though, always ends up being where too much of my pay goes..." she nattered on good-naturedly for a while as Topher inspected the room. It made his previous room in Strathmore look like a Hilton penthouse; pine boards under a cheap rug, with a lumpy mattress on top of a wooden frame for a bed -- no box springs, shouldn't have gotten used to that in the city -- a cheap desk and a chair, and a small bathroom with a copper washbasin and tub. No toilet, of course; maybe there were outhouses behind the building. Not that he'd need them; he hadn't needed to poop once since he'd been Summoned.

Probably turn all my solid foods to mana. He rubbed his stomach uncomfortably; the thought that he was growing a Magic Stone in there made him feel sick, but if it meant he didn't have to strain over a disgusting chamber-pot or outhouse it was probably a net win. Or something. How did I know I had a Magic Stone in my stomach? He shuffled his feet, painfully aware of his own awkwardness. "Um. Thanks, Miss Gilbert. I think I'm all set."

"Oh, you can just call me Elara, everyone does, and you can bring your meals up here and eat if you don't want to eat in the common room, just tell me if you spill anything, because, again, I have to get the mop and the bucket. Oh, and there's a posting board downstairs if you're a Guild member, didn't know if you were one and didn't want to pry, but you never know who's an Adventurer, especially Priests, everybody always wants a healer even if they're old -- not that you're old, Mister Bailey! You're very handsome, date you myself if I was a little older, but I don't date customers anyway, and if I did I'd date Mister Varissian because he's an elf, and plus it might get me a discount on my hot water. Anyway I've got to run, laundry to check on, I have to make sure birds don't poop on the clothes when they're drying on the line. You just come and get me and let me know if you need anything." Like a cute whirlwind of activity, she swirled out of the room, leaving him alone in an echoing silence.

Topher sighed, then took off his robe, changed into his spare clothes, and put his old clothes into the laundry bag she'd indicated. He set it outside the door, then sat around feeling bored for as long as he could stand it, which turned out to be about fifteen minutes; then he put his robe on again and went downstairs, looking over the notice board. It had come to Topher's attention that he had a serious problem -- namely, that he needed something to do in this world, and that he wasn't going to be able to sustain himself fixing home appliances or filing forms or spinning pens. What he wanted to do was what he'd been doing in the real world before he'd been Summoned, which was watching TV and browsing the internet all day, but that wasn't an option here and he was tired of not having direction in his life. Until recently, something else had been occupying him -- what it was, he couldn't quite remember and didn't want to think about -- but now he needed something new. Maybe figuring out what this "Guild" was might be a good starting point.

There were a lot of jobs for things like gathering herbs, which sounded uncomfortable to him, and a few for slaying monsters; one for killing ten slimes (whatever those were), another for killing goblins (he had a pretty good idea what those were), and a third for killing something called a peryton which had been stealing sheep from the town outskirts (he hadn't seen any sheep -- maybe the peryton had gotten them all by now?). He didn't know if he could do any of these without being a "Guild member", though, so he figured he should get that sorted first. Maybe there were forms involved, and he could get a job filing them? That would be ideal.

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

Unfortunately, when he asked Elara, he found that the Adventurer's Guild (a sort of loose organization for doing odd jobs, mostly killing monsters) already had a representative in this village, which was Elara, and there were no forms to file anyway beyond the New Adventurer Registration Form and the board postings themselves. He dutifully filled out a form (listing his class as "Priest", which he figured probably wasn't exactly a lie since the robe functioned for him), then received an Adventurer's Guild card, which he shoved in a pocket. "Okay. So, I'm Level 2; what tasks should I start with?" He felt a little sheepish. "I've never done this before."

"Oh, no worries there Mister Bailey, every time is somebody's first time, as they say, I wouldn't know exactly what to do myself since I'm not an adventurer -- I'm only Level 1 myself, Level 2 is quite a lot to me -- but I have seen a couple of other beginner adventurers come through here, like little Finian, he was a Warrior Class, so adorable, got all the way to Level 8 before those goblins chopped him up, quite sad really, his mother was so upset -- but most of them started off killing the Jelly Slimes we have around here. There's a little spot outside of town where they like to sun themselves, very harmless most of the time, but if we leave them alone they get to spawning and then after there's about four dozen or so they get up to things like smashing up the fences or eating the chickens, very disruptive. So the Guild occasionally posts a job to cut their numbers down -- I believe it's ten or so -- and then you can get a few silver for your trouble from the Guild, although I think the money actually comes from the town council, they just pay the Guild so they don't have to repair all the fences and replace all the chickens, you know."

"Uh huh." Topher was getting a headache from listening to the girl's rapid-fire chattering. "And what sort of weapon does one use to kill slimes?"

"Oh, you definitely want some kind of slashing or piercing weapon, Mister Bailey, they don't mind at all getting squished by clubs or maces, they're quite cute really -- almost harmless, but not quite, don't get yourself killed by slimes, that'd be embarrassing. I don't know what weapons Priests use, maybe try a sword if you can, the item shop's got a few. Oh, and sometimes you can find Magic Stones when you kill them, Jerp in the item shop will buy those if you get any -- you might not though, not all slimes have them -- just pace yourself, you know, Mister Bailey, and don't be afraid to come back if the slimes give you too much trouble. Better part of valor, and all that, you're no good to anybody if you just get eaten by slimes on your first day. Maybe wait to join a party, pick some medicinal herbs for a few weeks -- it won't increase your Level, but you could earn a few coppers that way."

"Oh?" Topher perked up. "So the medicinal herb picking tasks are safe?"

"Yes, of course!" Elara perked up, then suddenly tapped her cheek with her forefinger thoughtfully, "Well, you know, I say that, but there was that one time Mister Slaugh was picking herbs and got attacked by another orc -- I mean, he was also an orc, but the other orc was the monster type, you know, they're not friendly like Mister Slaugh -- not that he's that friendly -- so I guess either way it's a little dangerous? And it's not like we need a lot of medicinal herbs anyway, Mister Slaugh picks them every Tuesday anyhow and we really haven't had anyone to take care of the slimes since what happened to poor little Finian. So if you wanted to do that, Mister Bailey, that'd sure be swell, and I know the Guild would appreciate it, if you're up to it. But if you're not, that's okay, you can just have a seat and relax yourself... oh, you're going? Oh, well then good luck, Mister Bailey! Try not to get killed by a slime!" Topher resisted the urge to put his hands over his ears as he exited the inn.

Back in the item shop, he greeted the gnome again (who he guessed was Jerp) and asked about a good weapon for killing slimes. The gnome perked up, seemingly happy to discuss the prospect. "Well, for slimes, you generally want a good edged weapon; most folks go for a longsword or an axe. But if you want to keep your distance a bit more, sir, which I imagine you do as a Priest, then a spear might be a good bet. I've got a nice starter spear here for ten gold; good craft, with a brass-reinforced haft that won't snap on you if something strong rushes you." The gnome indicated a spear inside a case, which Topher did quite like the look of; it was about seven feet long, with a thick, pointed blade on the end that looked like it could stab a slime fairly effectively. "Not enchanted or anything, but no point buying a magic spear if you aren't even sure you'll like spears. And you can always use it for a walking stick or staff in a pinch."

"Thanks, Jerp. Sounds like good advice to me." Topher winced a little as he handed over the ten gold coins -- that was an appreciable chunk of his remaining funds, and sinking it into equipment for doing something as suicidally stupid as monster hunting seemed like double foolishness. But the fact was that he essentially didn't have any other options; the only other job he could probably get around here was farm work, and he knew perfectly well that that wasn't happening. With any luck, he could kill a few slimes, buy the scroll or spellbook (or maybe eventually both) and hopefully never have to deal with melee combat again. That was a motivating thought if anything was.

A half-hour later, toting his new (and surprisingly heavy) spear, he found himself approaching the area Elara had indicated; sure enough, he could see five or six little blobs lazing about or occasionally hopping back and forth through the low grass of a clearing. They were definitely just about the most harmless sort of creature he could imagine; they looked like little kickballs made of jelly that squished and bounced charmingly. He almost hated to attack them; but he knew if he wasn't careful here, he might end up the next cautionary tale Elara told to travelers -- oh, and then there was that Mister Bailey, he got killed by slimes, very embarrassing, really shouldn't have been Adventuring at his age -- and while Topher was occasionally depressed enough to wish for death, he definitely wasn't nearly masochistic enough to wish to be made fun of, even posthumously. He circled the patch of slimes for a little while until he found one farther out on the fringes than most -- he didn't want to fight more than one if he could help it -- and cautiously took up his spear in both hands. Stepping forward on shaky legs, he poked the spear experimentally out at the little blob.

What happened next shocked him with its suddenness; as soon as he attacked, the little slime leapt up with a speed and force totally at odds with the sort of movement the slimes had all displayed up until now. It crashed into his chest with enough force to knock him over backwards; he rolled down the little hill and scrambled away, yelling for help every step of the way. It wasn't until he was halfway back to town that he noticed the slime wasn't even chasing him; indeed, probably hadn't chased him further than the edge of the hill. Coughing, he rubbed his chest; it was bruised, but it didn't feel like he'd broken anything. Probably did more damage to myself falling down the hill. Guess they can sort of thump you a little, but that's all; still, probably enough to kill you if they knock you down and jump on you long enough. Gripping his spear and hoping nobody had seen his first performance, he edged back up to the hill and decided to try again; this time, he had a Mage Shield spell ready to go in the event of another attack.

Sure enough, as soon as he moved to attack, the slime leapt for him with the speed of a striking snake; but this time, Topher was ready, and the little creature crashed into the fizzing gray globe of force which sprang up and bounced off. It shook itself a little, almost appearing stunned, but recovered before Topher could capitalize on his advantage; the two of them circled each other for a while. Then, abruptly, Topher had an idea; he backed cautiously away, back down the hill, and was relieved when the slime didn't pursue him farther than a few yards. They must defend this area specifically. Almost like they're not allowed to leave it? He puzzled over it, but couldn't figure out any reason why that might be so; nevertheless, it meant he had a lot more freedom to experiment. Picking up his spear again, he set to his work.

After about ten attempts, something finally went differently -- he found out the hard way that he couldn't cast Mage Shield indefinitely when his incantation produced nothing other than a fizzling feeling in his guts. This time, however, he was ready, and had his spear gripped higher up on the haft so that he could direct the point more accurately; as the creature leapt up onto him, he simply held up the point of his spear such that the creature leapt into it, and it punctured itself obligingly on the blade. He scrambled out from under it, but it was clearly dead; it seemed a single good solid hit was all that was required to kill them. The body dissolved into a watery substance which then evaporated with downright unseemly haste, which puzzled Topher; how are they going to know that I killed ten if there's no proof for me to bring back? How are they going to know I killed one? Could I have just gone right back to the inn and declared victory? But a moment's diligence showed him he needn't have worried; the job posting he'd taken from the inn had a glowing "1/" in front of the "10 slimes" of the posting. Huh. Well, that's handy. Guess I'd better kill nine more.

After that, it was pretty simple; all the slimes attacked in the exact same way, leaping up towards him, and with a little practice he found that he could skewer them right through the center almost every time. By the time the sun was going down, he'd killed about thirty of them, even though the little job posting had stopped tracking kills after the tenth; it was almost soothing, especially since he'd gotten a half-dozen tiny magic stones out of it. Guess that's enough for today. As he left, he looked back and noted something that gave him a chill he couldn't explain; the number of slimes sunning and hopping about had seemed to be about five or six when he'd started, and seemed to be just about that many now, despite the fact that he'd killed nearly five times that number. What the fuck? He scratched his head in confusion. Well, Elara did say they "spawned", whatever that means -- maybe they breed really quickly. If so, that might be good for me; I could come back here to kill more tomorrow.

The walk back to town wasn't nearly as pleasant as the walk out had been; with the sun setting, Frostford went from "a little chilly" to "frigid with gusts of freezing", and even the enchantment on his robe didn't fully protect him (not to mention that he was sore, achy, and tired from doing real physical labor for the first time in half a decade). He sold the Magic Stones to Jerp for a gold and two silver, which he felt was pretty good for a day's work, then turned the posting in to Elara. The smile which lit up her face warmed him, even as he prepared for the inevitable verbal torrent.

"Oh, good job Mister Bailey! I knew you wouldn't be taken out by any slimes, big tough Adventurer like you. Anyway, here's your reward, three silver, don't spend it all in one place, unless that place is here with me, of course, gotta feed my hot water habit." She tinkled three silver coins into his hand, which made Topher chuckle a little at its relative penury compared to the profit he'd made selling Magic Stones to Jerp. "Anyway, you just go rest your bones over by the fire and I'll get you a meal, on the house since it's your first day as an Adventurer and you did so well. Did you level up?"

"Hmm. I suppose that's a good question." Topher opened his Status to check.

Name:

Christopher Bailey

Level:

3

Class:

Otherworlder

HP:

7/9

MP:

0/12

SP:

3/3

Strength:

Rank F

Dexterity:

Rank F

Constitution:

Rank F [+1: Rank F]

Intelligence:

Rank D

Wisdom:

Rank D [+1: Rank D]

Charisma:

Rank F

Skills:

Literacy (Rank D)

Mathematics (Rank D)

Cooking (Rank F)

Customer Service (Rank D)

Data Entry and Filing (Rank B)

Packaging and Shipping (Rank D)

Home Appliance Repair (Rank F)

Pen Spinning (Rank A)

[Cold Resistance (Rank F)]

[Heat Resistance (Rank F)]

Special Skills:

Disrupt Illusion

Mage Shield (Rank F)

Mage Light (Rank F)

Improved Status

Unique Skill:

Attract Object

Topher blinked. "Looks like it. Level 3, now." And with Improved Status to boot, somehow. How did I unlock that? I didn't start with it like Hotaka did. He obediently drifted over to a chair and sat down; he felt abruptly very tired. Hotaka. Jesus. That's right. The kids.

He didn't remember much of the rest of the evening -- Elara brought him over some kind of food, which he ate without noticing -- and he might have just sat there oblivious the entire evening if it weren't for the mysterious and blessed appearance of a large tankard of beer in front of him at some point. He gazed up at it, blinking, then raised his focus to the large, broad-shouldered man behind it.

"Bailey, right? My daughter told me about you." The man sat down at Topher's table, thick arms crossing in front of him as he lowered his chin to Topher's level. "I'm Gropp Gilbert, the owner. Though I do a little bartending on the side." He winked.

Topher tried to shake himself out of his stupor, and lifted the beer in a salute; the tankard was wooden and surprisingly light. "Thanks. I'll drink to that." He poured the beer almost straight down his throat without even bothering to taste it.

Gropp raised an eyebrow. "Well, I was hoping you'd be celebrating your first day as an Adventurer, Mister Bailey, but if you don't mind me saying so, that is not the way a man who is celebrating drinks; that is the way a man who is trying to forget something drinks."

Topher winced, but couldn't deny it. "Not to pour out my life story or anything, but I went through something bad recently. Maybe not the healthiest of coping mechanisms, but..." he gestured helplessly.

Gropp nodded. "Well, despite the damage to my profit margins, I can't say I recommend using my wares as a way to get through that, Mister Bailey. But I'll be around if you'd rather talk. It's your choice." He got up and left; Topher stared at his beer tankard. Not much of a choice from where I'm sitting. He managed to hold out for nearly another five minutes before ordering another. Bury the past. Get a new start.

The next morning, Elara had to bring up the mop and bucket.