《I Have Even Read the Rulebook!》


 Chapter 1: How to get whatevered correctly, Part 1

    Humanity has always been fascinated with the question of what happens to the soul after death. Reincarnation? Heaven or Hell? Valhalla? The Big Nothing? Is the soul real to begin with? If yes, what are its properties, who made it, or was it made by someone or something at all? Why was it made or created? What is its goal? Is it possible to capture, enslave, influence, or destroy a soul? How would you do it?


    All valid questions and at least the gravity of the issue made it possible, throughout the millennia, for a very large number of people who were allergic to physical labor but in need of a comfortable lifestyle to find respectable occupations. They found nice lifestyles without the need to strain their muscles. All without being born as a noble or having to rally a host in defense of King and Country or other Nobles. Or just to wage some "war" against their best friend in the next castle over to occupy the minds of the soldiers. Or just because he got bored. Or because why not.


    Of course, this is understandable. It''s much, much, MUCH easier to sit in a (for the given time) top-of-the-line apartment and theorize about what a soul is and do while getting at least three warm meals a day, than doing heavy agricultural things outside and starving. Or die fighting some random folks coming to conquer the country. Or die invading another country. No judgment here.


    The other result of this study was a huge number of Humans who, because of the physical interactions stemming from the scientific debate between opposing schools of philosophic thought, got to know the answer to The Question firsthand. Unfortunately for the general populace and fortunately for the people with work allergies, those in the know after the interaction rarely went back to their folks telling them what the deal is. From the point of view of those basing their whole existence on not doing heavy work but thinking things, this was indeed very fortunate. Who would want to lose their comfortable job because of a scientific breakthrough and retrain himself into an excrement displacer? Of course, no one would. I don''t like shoveling shit either.


    Or maybe the information did come back, but the protocols are locked behind so much concrete and steel you could build the Atlantic Wall three times over. NOT losing the comfy job? Check. NOT making waves and NOT getting burned on the stakes? Check. Moving on. When is the third Dinner ready? Yes, we absolutely need that fortress with those catacombs, your mighty Majesty, Sir! It''s essential for our research of the soul, Random Higher Authority, Sir. Of course, we need at least three warm meals a day! Brain work is hard work, your Benevolent Overlordship! No, we won''t pay for it ourselves, that''s why we have peasants!


    So the mystery of the Soul remained just as that for the Earth-Humans: a mystery. (And a comfy job for folks, but that''s beside the point.) Everyone has the right to believe what they want, has the opportunity to get killed off by folks with different beliefs, and gets the chance to kill off folks with different beliefs.


    As for our Main Character, he was never interested in the whole issue. If the time came, he would know for sure, and till then it was no use to getting stressed out for no apparent reason. You get in when you got it. Ferenc ¨C or as everyone called him, Prof ¨C lived in an absolutely average Central European country. Yes, Central European, since ¨C in contrast to Westerners ¨C everyone East of the Oder-Leitha-Line knew Eastern Europe is the Ukraine and Russia, thank you very much, and not the Balkans either. Please stop insulting the folks. Thank you.


    He lived in an average country''s absolutely average town, as a member of the (slowly dying out) absolutely average Middle Class, having an absolutely average job, hobbies, needs, and wants. He drove an absolutely average car ¨C used, imported from the wealthy West, but paid for in cash since he didn''t believe in consuming on loans ¨C and still lived with his parents in their absolutely average home despite being thirty-five.


    Of course, still living with the parents was quite average for an average Central European, getting paid shit for the same work as in the West, assuming you didn''t want your grandkids to inherit some colossal debt, but I digress. And, since his parents were retired, it was beneficial for everyone to share the bills. Ferenc, or rather Prof ¨C short for Professor, the name having something to do with someone having an accident opening a beer bottle while drunk and some hastily applied first aid (and being a wise-ass about it. Not the accident but the first aid) ¨C had an absolutely average girlfriend ¨C at least as long as she didn''t dump him for a guy driving a not so fucking average (meaning: less boring, more trendy and slightly newer) Mercedes ¨C bought on credit ¨C to relocate to Germany and making a career of washing dishes. For some strange reason, even that felt average.


    Prof didn''t have any non-average hobbies. Instead of jumping out of airplanes with only a few square meters of textile, he watched movies. Instead of being a street racer ¨C in fact, his average car was out-accelerated once by a rusty minivan ¨C he did some reading (books about history and fantasy novels). Instead of going to the shooting range (which was almost impossible to begin with, since the country he lived in didn''t allow citizens to own, use or look at guns), he met his average friends once a week to drink some beers, rant about the political situation, talk about the newest movies, music, and novels. And stuff.


    Instead of having a Black Belt in some martial arts, he played Role Playing Games with his friends. Sometimes. When they could put together a party which was able to play more than once a year. Instead of hunting deer to extinction on his way home from work or on weekends ¨C also an impossibility in his country, mostly because of the hard stance on firearms there ¨C he bought his food in the closest supermarket. To make it clear: Instead of being some highly trained Spec Ops Guy, a handyman, or an avid gamer with experience in everything else, he was the average wage slave toiling about day in and day out.


    It was probably impossible to get any more average. If you can endure an absolutely average life like that without slitting your veins or going shooting up folks, you are either named Al Bundy or live in Central Europe. Bob Hope, Mr. Johnny Cash, and Steve Jobs all left the building. At least Kevin Bacon and someone named after some kind of alcohol was still around somewhere. Go figure.


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    A whole novel could be written about his amazing days at the office, how awesomely he pushed files from one side of the desk to another, how excellently he talked to customers, and how exciting it was to commute to his working place or back home. But, most likely, no one would care, since most want to read about heroic exploits in a whole new world and not the everyday grind at the office. That one could be (and is) experienced by everyone, after all.


    The only thing that happened to Prof that wasn¡¯t absolutely average, happened on an absolutely average winter day while walking to work. No, he was not driving, since gas cost a lot and he needed to keep the car for a few more years. Ehmmm¡­ decades.


    And so the tale began. Once upon a time, there was an absolutely average raven, who after getting hold of an absolutely average ring landed on an absolutely average high-voltage line. It is somewhat questionable if a high voltage line could be called average, but most assuredly it was. It had cables and lattice poles and was located in an average country''s average countryside, without any fancy decoration, personality, or relevance. The Evil Sorcerer A.G. Bell ¨C or was it Edison, Jedlik, Tesla, Siemens, or Westinghouse? Let''s call it the Evil Cabal ¨C cast an Evil Spell of Lightning onto the line that fried the Raven, still holding the pilfered ring in its beak real good. Charcoal good.


    The carcass, missing a lot of complex cultural significance fell to the street ¨C and not killing Prof, not making Prof get killed by a speeding truck, and not making Prof get killed while saving a random bystander from said truck. Instead, the Raven''s carcass crashed into the windshield of an average retired public servant¡¯s average car. Not killing him ¨C even an average car protects its passengers from randomly falling charcoaled ravens. What killed the driver was the fright. Well, it was mostly the semi-trailer in the opposite lane he steered his car into because of the sudden fright and losing control of his vehicle.


    Contrary to expectations, the crash didn''t directly cause Prof''s death for the story to be allowed to continue. It would be convenient, but absolutely average and boring ¨C a fitting end to an average guy, but what happened was the only thing in Prof''s life, that wasn''t average.


    In the end, the crash didn''t kill Prof in any way. He was not hit by debris, he was not flattened by the trailer getting loose, and neither was he killed by the high voltage line falling onto his head because the semi flattened the pole. Which did happen ¨C flattening the pole, to be precise.


    What did kill Prof was the cat. And the ice. And some rebar laying around.


    How could a cat, some ice, and rebar cause death? How did the charcoaled raven, public servant, semi, and the high-voltage line factor into an average guy''s death? How can all these be combined to make the most non-average death possible?


    Let''s clear up the uncertainty and the questions in chronological order. The raven was fried on the other side of Prof''s town a few hours before he was booted from the club of the living, and so did the initial accident. As in any normal country, even in Central Europe, an accident that flattens the pole of a high-voltage line, the Disaster Relief (and the Electrical Company) was called into immediate action. Leaving an unsecured power line lying around in wreckage isn¡¯t safe, it is said.


    The two companies did do some prompt relieving. Though they mostly relieved the town of electricity by cutting the main electrical grid to fix the completely separate High Voltage Line. Naturally, cutting the grid also meant, the town was left without public lighting early on a Winter morning. As everyone, who doesn''t live somewhere in the Tropics would know, early mornings in Winter tend to be dark and cold ¨C the first leads to limited visibility, and the second to the formation of ice on¡­ well, basically on everything.


    That still doesn''t explain, what cat, ice, and rebar had to do with Prof''s (not-average death), though.


    No, it¡¯s not cat-flavored ice cream on rebar. That would be gross! Even Central Europe has standards! Said standards mean, that if Public Service A does some public work, it''s not their job to clear the debris after the work is done, but Public Service B''s. It is possible, however, that Public Service A just doesn''t care or work hours are over for the day. As it is commonly known, no one is willing to work for free, so, Boss, fuck you very much, the bar is open, let''s get wasted!


    The split responsibility (and don''t give a fuck-attitude) means... sometimes¡­ that the debris (let''s assume, that includes rebar for whatever reason) is left on-site for a few¡­ days¡­ weeks¡­ months¡­ years¡­ It could be called an undefined time frame between one day and eternity.


    What ice with the whole issue had, is probably self-explanatory. It was Winter, after all. It was cold. No one cleans up fallen precipitation ¨C it¡¯s on common ground, so it¡¯s the Job Of Someone Else, and it¡¯s cold outside.


    Some folks probably already have crafted an explanation, something like ¡°because some overzealous folks cut the lighting and some under-zealous folks didn¡¯t clean up after their work was done, and some carefree citizens with an over-abundance of¡­ me-time¡­ didn¡¯t clear the side-walk of ice, the Evil Overleveled Cat scared our poor Main Character into slipping and impaling himself on rebar¡±.


    However, that would be wrong. Not the part about slipping and impaling, that is the correct core of the event, like every good conspiracy has. Actually, Prof liked cats, and they are not Evil, to begin with. Mostly. Mostly they are just opportunistic and have barely domesticated their Humans. Well, and the only "overleveled" cats are called lions, tigers, and saber-tooth¡­ Teeth¡­ Smilodons. None of those live in Central Europe anymore, though.


    In reality, as Prof was walking along an un-cleared sidewalk (in the dark and cold), he noticed an Innocent Cat (kitten, more likely) mewing next to some indistinct pile and wanted to pet it. The kitten, not the pile. Two things were going through Prof''s head at this moment. The first being, that his ex-girlfriend would probably never encounter an indistinct pile on the roadside in the dark and cold while building her dish-washing career in Germany. Those folks were, for some reason, allergic to random piles on the roadside, to un-cleared sidewalks and lighting-less streets ¨C and would pester someone in time to clear it up, shovel it free, heat it up, and light it out properly. Immediately. Or at least put up warning signs. The someone doing the stuff most probably being an unrespected Central European guy.


    The other thing was rebar.


    And so Prof got to know the answer to the question plaguing Humanity for a couple of thousands of years.

 Chapter 1: How to get whatevered correctly, Part 2

    Prof expected a lot of things about the afterlife, but not an absolutely average waiting room.


    Linoleum floors of an unidentified color (you know it: it''s not grey, it''s not green, it''s not yellow or red, or any other color you can think of, but in the right lighting it could be called¡­ something. Seriously, who comes up with those colors? Isn''t being color-blind a big no-no in choosing colors for a living?), crumbling greenish yellow walls, flashing neon tube lighting, and metal framed plastic benches bolted to the floor, which would have been scrapped by any Central European hospital with some minimal standards when the Russians left the country (or a few decades after the millennium at the very latest).


    The few potted, dusty, and dying plants hinted that someone read somewhere that potted plants would improve the customer''s well-being, and make the waiting room a bit less drab. Well, that someone should have also read the part, where the care for the plants was described, such as removing the dust from the leaves once a decade, and maybe watering them once every while. The fact that the potted plants looked like imports from Tatooine and were still dying from thirst, the watering part was most likely skipped by everyone in the office.


    Is cruelty against plants a thing?


    The whole setup reminded Prof of a government office somewhere out in the boonies, where the office manager''s company car (of course he needs to change it every year to enable his family and friends to mechanize themselves cheaply) was much more important than to make the office NOT look like it was situated in the war-torn part of a Third World Country. The overall picture was not enhanced by the receptionist lady either, who looked like she entered retirement age before Franz Joseph became Emperor, and who gazed at Prof like he just interrupted her in the Very Important Task of Not Giving a Shit.


    They say you can establish how good a company is doing by checking out the receptionist: the more¡­ decorative¡­ said receptionist is, the nearer the company is to bankruptcy or at least to the intense inquiry of some government agency. To judge the afterlife after this receptionist, it was probably the best-run company in all the Multiverses with profit so high, you could touch down on Alpha Centauri. Of course, the afterlife was THE monopoly, since one hundred percent of the populace had to use its service with no competition anywhere in sight.


    How much better would a real capitalist solution be, where you could choose your service provider, make a contract and let the afterlives undercut each other in prices but promise better service? Then again, you can not choose the revenue office in your home country either¡­


    ¡°Choose and get out!" The receptionist''s voice hinted at the incredible annoyance to be forced to do her work instead of much more important things. "Hinted" as in putting up an oversized sign and letting the loudspeakers rupture your eardrums. Obviously, the afterlife hasn''t adopted customer satisfaction polls yet ¨C but why should they? Not that an unsatisfied customer could rant on the ''net, and take his business elsewhere. Monopolies have good points too, such as being able to let some annoying and impolite customers know, what you think about them.


    As it were, Prof wasn''t exactly sure where he was (the afterlife was definitely not described by any theological-philosophical school he was familiar with as a shitty government office, even if you counted "artistic license" in the matter), and was even less sure what the job of the receptionist was, which she had to do instead of the much more important other things she was doing. Prof assumed, the job had something to do with him, and probably some evaluation of his life, maybe even some consulting about his options.


    So, yes, probably a lot of hassle for an obviously overworked (since the waiting room had room for a few dozen customers and Prof was the only one currently there) elderly lady, who had a huge backlog of crossword puzzles to solve and chat with her friends. Or watch TV. Unfortunately, Prof had to suffer through the administrative block of his University (you probably had already guessed: it was an absolutely average University) and even some government offices where clerks as nice as the current lady embittered everyone who had the misfortune to enter. Prof started to have a bad feeling about the whole thing.


    ¡°Ehmm¡­ Choose what?" He managed. Not the most eloquent thing he could have said to be sure, but if you have zero knowledge, of what you are there for, you probably wouldn''t manage better either.


    ¡°You don''t even know that?!" Yes, definitely the administrative block. Prof thought for a moment, the whole thing is not worth it, and maybe he should come back later as he did back then, hoping he found a solution on the ''net or the issue resolved itself somehow, but realized this was probably not an option this time. No ''net access, no friends he could ask, and his current¡­ "situation"¡­ would not resolve itself.


    ¡°To be frank, I wasn''t planning to come here, so no, I don''t know" What could be the worst thing they would do to him? Send him back to life?


    ¡°Choose between the alternatives, you imbecile!¡± Next to the irritation to have to do the job, the receptionist lady also activated the power of Talking Down to Incompetent Morons. This started to get bad. Really bad. Prof took a deep breath ¨C not that he needed it as being dead, but habits die hard. Harder than himself, obviously.


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    ¡°What alternatives do you mean?" He started to think about letting go of the whole thing, going back to Earth, and haunting his ex-girlfriend while she washed dishes.


    ¡°Do I have to explain everything?!? Choose a mode of afterlife already, I don¡¯t have time to deal with you all day!¡±


    Dear passengers, we have arrived at the Station: Feeling Insulted in Her Perceived Importance. Please leave the train. Since the waiting room was still empty, Prof assumed, either the crossword puzzle was going to go bad or a Brazilian Soap Opera is starting soon. Or it was just time for the next half-a-day coffee break. Truly, every last of those would obviously be more important than dealing with a customer! Who was clearly an uninformed moron?


    ¡°I would choose if I knew what the alternatives were!" Maybe it wasn''t so bad to haunt in Germany after all. Could he perhaps travel, and see the sights or would he be bound to a place? Where was the ex currently working? Hope not Berlin. Maybe some nice place in the South?


    ¡°Eh, obviously The Big Nothing, Reincarnation, Heaven or Hell, depending on religion and deeds or you could continue in another dimension. Choose already!¡±


    As Impatience also made his presence known, Prof knew his time was over. If he doesn''t choose now, the receptionist will send him Somewhere Else to get a Very Important Document from Someone Else, so when he got back Sometime Later, this receptionist wouldn''t have to deal with him anymore. As everyone knows who had the misfortune to deal with official offices, there is a very big chance that Someone Else will also need some Very Important Document that can be only obtained from Someone Different, who will also need a Very Important Document.


    They can keep it up indefinitely! Be careful! Prof didn¡¯t know how many Someone Elses were working in the Government Office for Afterlife Affairs but wasn¡¯t exactly keen on finding out while getting Very Important Documents from and for them till the end of times.


    He had to make a decision based on the very limited information at hand. The Big Nothing didn¡¯t sound all that promising, with ¡°nothing¡± being in the description. Would his soul just go poof and disappear? Or would it float through the void for eternity just to be recycled by some alien race? Definitely not a way to spend eternity. Or more than five minutes. So, no, Nothing it isn¡¯t.


    Since Prof wasn¡¯t religious while alive and his deeds were rather¡­ average¡­ he didn''t feel like experimenting with Heaven and Hell. After all, every religion taught that to get into Heaven, you have to be a good follower of the correct god (theirs), and if not, you went to Hell. That was even valid for atheists. Logically, most ¨C if not all ¨C people went to Hell, and it had to deal with an enormous over-subscription. If spending eternity in a not-so-much-fun place wasn''t enough, there would be a huge crowd. Huge as in packed hundreds high. No thank you.


    Reincarnation had some charm to it, but still, there was a bit of hesitation in Prof. Sure, it would be interesting to be reincarnated into a far-off world or into a wealthy family, but realistically speaking it would almost be guaranteed that he would end up in some piss poor place trying not to starve. That is if the Bureau of Reincarnation didn''t need a quota for livestock fulfilled somewhere. Sure, if you got to be a pet in a loving and slightly well-off family, then maybe¡­ Who am I kidding? You have to do nothing but sleep, look cute and let your Humans pet and feed you. How can it get better than that? (Dear Gold Diggers, please refrain to answer the question). Being cattle was on the other hand not really¡­ a career... with many promotion opportunities. Being promoted into a lot of slices of premium meat was not something Prof looked at as real promotion.


    If he were a Main Character in some novel, he would have still tried it (reincarnation, not being promoted to tasty food). Probably. Maybe. Folks in novels always got reincarnated into nice places. As it was, the last option seemed like the best. Prof liked to travel and discussed the probability of other planets and civilizations with his friends. Oh, and of course, the movies! Driving a spaceship through space! Exploring new worlds! Doing futuristic Stuff! What could possibly go wrong?


    ¡°I think I got it¡± Prof turned to the receptionist, and tried very hard to make a friendly and innocent face. ¡°But I have one very last question. What does another dimension mean in this context exactly?¡±


    The receptionist took a large breath, and utter terror started to rise in Prof. Would he really spend eternity to get Very Important Documents from and for Someone Else? Has he to meet every Someone Else that Afterlife Inc. has to offer? Will he meet his love of life running an unending and unimportant errand? Will Juanita ever recover from the coma? Oh, sorry, wrong novel.


    ¡°A world from all the possible ones in the Multiverse that fits the knowledge and skills of the deceased. Have you chosen?¡±


    Prof wasn¡¯t surprised that the Multiverse had several worlds ¨C or even possible worlds ¨C but it was somewhat a let-down that he would be transported to a world that fits his own knowledge and skills. Since Prof was an office worker (you could even call him a bureaucrat) he was afraid that he would continue where he left off: working in an office and pushing files.


    With some luck, he would start working at HR on the Death Star not long before some passing terrorists blew it up. However, it couldn''t get much worse than it was before. The twinkle in the receptionist''s eye warned Prof not to push it further, or he would be sent on a wild goose chase for Very Important Documents. Three¡­ Two¡­


    ¡°Oh, yes! I would very much like to continue in another dimension! Thank you!¡±


    Bullet dodged.


    ¡°Then go away, I don¡¯t have more time for you!¡± The receptionist showed a strange mix of elation (that Prof finally pissed off) and regret (that she couldn¡¯t send him on a goose chase for Very Important Documents). She waved at a featureless door on the right side. Prof didn¡¯t waste another moment and fled the premises.

 Chapter 1: How to get whatevered correctly, Part 3

    The door led to a smallish office, and it was obvious at first glance that the owner of the office at least tried to make something of it.


    Instead of metal framed plastic benches being put up next to the walls, there was a shredded leather armchair next to the desk ¨C Prof had the feeling, the chair was rescued on a bulky waste day from a pile by the office worker ¨C the walls were decorated with landscapes of other worlds (based on the non-standard number and properties of stellar objects, interestingly colored botany and some really alien architecture). The desk was dominated by an unknown potted plant which looked like the owner actually cared about it. OK, unknown in this instant meant that it was not a pine or a palm, and probably also not an oak. Prof wasn''t really good with plants, their names, and looks, so the weed could be a lot of things from Earth. Like¡­ a Ficus? A Snake Plant? Begonia? Or a Baobab. Definitely a Baobab.


    They are about half a meter high, have pink leaves, orange flowers, and are purple, right? Or it could be some alien plant from another Galaxy, but that would not make any sense. Right? Right? There were also a few pictures of creatures probably being happy to get photographed. Prof could make out someone that looked like an Orc, another one who was maybe Chewbacca and there was a thing that could make him have nightmares for decades. Yeah, visit R¡¯lyeh! Sure. Next time, maybe. That was all Prof could explore of the room in the few seconds before¡­


    ¡°Heeeeelllloooo!!!!¡± Simultaneously with the shout Prof was assaulted by a hug from behind. He hadn¡¯t even had time to react, and the sneakhugger was already in front of him.


    Someone had probably explained to the petite girl in her twenties in front of him, that she should wear a smart costume for work (and the girl was smart enough not to misunderstand "costume" as something worn by cosplayers, probably to the regret of the male workforce), but didn''t mention color or patterns. There is no other way to explain a costume in a very conservative cut but with a lemon-yellow base color, with pink, orange, and red flower patterns. Actually, there are a few explanations, but I try to be polite here, OK?


    She had a wide, bright smile on her heart-shaped face, with slightly oversized green eyes and bright green, shoulder-length hair. The overall effect reminded Prof of an anime heroine. Minus the obligatory huge boobs. The change from the old hag (khmmm¡­ elderly lady) who throned in the waiting room could not have been larger. Maybe the Swedish Bikini Team would have been a bigger surprise. Or an actress in the usual costume from one of those films which of course Prof never watched. He only heard those films even existed from a friend¡¯s cousin¡¯s little brother¡¯s friend¡¯s uncle. Swear.


    ¡°Come! Take a seat!" the anime wannabe escorted the shocked Prof to the armchair and pulled her own chair (also a waste reject but in a slightly better state) next to Prof. "How are you? My name is Sandy, and my job, no my privilege, is to ascertain your new life to help you to make a well-founded choice and prepare you to change dimensions! May we begin? I was sooo looking forward to a new customer!"


    ¡°Ehmmm¡­ Yes?¡± The puzzled Prof took a seat in the armchair and gave some thoughts to the reality of haunting in Germany. Sandy¡¯s smile got even bigger and she almost gave Prof another hug.


    ¡°So cooool! Do you know how many people choose the Another Dimension option?!?¡±


    ¡°Ehmmm¡­ A lot?¡±


    ¡°Oh, no! Almost no-one! Most give a try to Heaven and Hell and a lot just reincarnate! The Big Nothing and Another Dimension went out of fashion lately! No one acknowledges the hard work we do here, and everyone bought the propaganda about the other Options! It''s like¡­"


    ¡°What is this changing dimension, to begin with?" Prof interrupted her. It seemed, the anime-princess-lookalike was enthusiastic about her work, but her attention wandered a bit.


    ¡°Oooooh! I should have guessed that no one will tell you! After your death, you get a new body and identity and we leave you in a place that is appropriate for your knowledge and skills! You can start a new life there! Isn''t it fantastic? For example, our system recommended for you either a position as a verifier for scales in a medieval salt office or in the HR department of a Galactic Empire''s Armament Office! Both are good choices with a lot of further career opportunities!"


    Prof was shocked into oblivion by his choices. Either senseless work in a (probably) piss-poor place without health insurance, safety standards, or job security, or bait for those heroic terrorists strolling by. But probably with health insurance and other benefits. Not that his previous work made much sense, but still! It should have been a new life! He had worked for some multinational company for some time, and the mention of "further career options" raised some flags. There is no further career, and no one believes the recruiter anyway (OK, maybe the folks right out of school will believe it, but no one who had at least one job previously).


    Why do they keep offering the same thing over and over, Prof could not fathom. And seriously! HR? OK, in a Galactic Empire. Spaceships! New planets! To blow up, but new planets, plural, to visit nevertheless! Maybe this whole thing wasn¡¯t a mistake after all?


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    ¡°You are lucky though, that I''m sooo dedicated to my work!" Continued Sandy and shoved the printed-out career path into the bin. "I at least read your file, and I''m also aware of the more interesting worlds of the Multiverse!" She shone with so much pride Prof had the suspicion she had a side job as a Class A star.


    Prof on the other hand started to think about the benefits of ghosting in Germany again. Much worse than indifferent workers were the enthusiastic but incompetent young Titans who thought they will change the world and How It Works in their new job. Most veterans just shake their heads at the antics and pat the youngsters on the head (and hope they will not be sued for sexual harassment for doing so), but it''s still a chore. If you are a customer, choose the indifferent over the incompetent every day. In this case, Prof''s future life depended on an enthusiastic, somewhat airheaded youngster with no fashion sense. Nice outlooks.


    ¡°I, at least, know you are interested in medieval history and economics and stuff! I do know, you like fantasy settings, and I do know you like RPGs! Aaaaaand, accidentally I do know of a pocket dimension where you can use those skills! Aaaand I accidentally do know the World Administrator there, so I can make you a special offer! He is just suuuuuch a nice guy! The last time I visited him, he took me on a ride through the largest dungeon there! It''s open-air! Almost like a Wildlife Reserve! There were Wolfs and Tigers and Bears and Dinosaurs! It was soooo coool!"


    Sandy spread her arms theatrically and grinned at Prof, obviously waiting for a reaction to the awesomeness. Prof started to get a bit annoyed by Sandy''s boundless positivity. And the constant use of exclamation signs. Yes, you can hear those. And the wandering attention. They are conducting a job interview here, not recalling a journey to a park filled with dinosaurs! At least the park Sandy was talking about advertised itself as a killing ground and not as an amusement park for kiddies. Spared no expenses? My ass. Only on security, the IT, and making the place weather-proof. But I digress again.


    ¡°Ehmmm¡­ Yeah, that¡¯s really cool. And what does that mean? How can I use those skills? What kind of job and special offer are you talking about?¡±


    ¡°I''m sooo happy you asked! Level-Ups! Adventures! Treasures! Dungeons! Ex-peeeeee! Everything works on codified rules! You see your Stats, Skills, Perks! It''s soooo coooool! You can progress and have a lot of fun! We won''t even push you into a job, you can live your new life as you like! Have adventures! Have fun! I''m sooo jealous! I even made a deal with my friend, that I can go there on Holidays and transmigrate when it''s the time! You know, last time I went there for Holidays, I got this thingy and could visit¡­"


    The sales pitch being over, Prof ignored the background noise as Sandy kept droning about how cooool it was, what she visited, and what she have did there, and gave the opportunity some serious thoughts. He has read some (ehmmm¡­ a lot) of novels with such a premise, watched a few (ehmmm¡­ a lot) of such anime, and even talked about such worlds with his friends, and what would they do there. On one hand a Galactic Empire with a boring job in HR, on the other hand, a game-like world governed by a System!


    He didn''t even include verifying scales as a true option. Spaceships or a System-enhanced horse? How many planets can you discover in one lifetime? And there was a bit of uncertainty over the Empire part. Are we talking WH40K or The Empire? Dictatorial or democratic? What does the democratic empire think about people with different beliefs?


    The main selling point for Prof was the SYSTEM! No need to get up early, no need to make the hike to the boring, average office, to spend days¡­ weeks¡­ months¡­ years there with his boring, average co-workers! No need to watch the incompetent bullshitters steal his time and no need to wait for the promotion that never comes, no matter how much and well he worked! (Of course, the guys who work well and much won¡¯t be ever promoted, someone needs to do the actual job after all. If they promote you, who do you think will do your previous job to the same standard? That bullshitting loudmouth? Heh.). Everyone got issued an objective and absolute number to his skill?


    Yeah!


    No more preferred treatment to bullshitters. Show me your Character Sheet! Oh, you are really proficient in the stuff you claimed to be? You are hired! Promoted! Let¡¯s take a look at the Sheet of a politician! Wow! That¡¯s something interesting there. And there. Don¡¯t forget that! Why did we vote for you again? Oh, because according to your sheets you are still better than the other guy?


    OK, no problem.


    It looked to Prof like he won every last lottery in Europe (not just those in the European Union, but in geographical Europe) at the same time! Goodbye kitchen ghost in Germany! Goodbye underpaid, undervalued boring job!


    Prof got taught by all those novels he read and movies he saw ¨C not to forget his own experience with RPG ¨C some really important stuff. First, in the fiction, there were mostly either far-eastern teens or western adults with anger issues, and both tumbled around the world, having no clue whatsoever how the System worked.


    Or where they were, who the real movers were, how things worked, and what the System was, to begin with. Secondly, no one made a serious effort to learn, how the System and the world worked, where they were, and what to do outside of killing monsters. Prof was always impressed that no one enslaved, exploited, or cheated the transmigrated, reincarnated, isekaied folks.


    OK, save for that one with the Slime. And the other one with the Inn. And maybe a few others.


    But still, generally no enslaving, exploiting, and cheating going on. So, Prof asked the question everyone else forgot every time:


    ¡°Can I have a Rule Book?¡±

 Chapter 1: How to get whatevered correctly, Part 4

    ¡°Of course, you can! I expected nothing less from you!" If it''s possible, Sandy''s smile grew even more radiant.


    Scratch that A-Type star, she just entered Type O territory. She took out a huge pile of printing paper from a drawer and placed it into Prof¡¯s hands. The armchair gave out some nasty groaning noises ¨C the pile was enormous. Gargantuan. The thing that is larger than gargantuan. Whole forests were killed and shredded to make the pile possible.


    ¡°You probably know, that you can make your own Character! Unfortunately, you will have to start as Level 1, but I have every confidence in you! I''m soooo sure, you will breeze through the Levels! Just tell me, when you are ready, and we can begin! You don''t have to rush, you have as much time as you need! I''m so excited to be able to help you make your Character! If you have questions, ask away! I''ve been there a few times, I''m sure I can help!"


    Yeah, been there, saw it, but don''t have a clue, how it works. Always the same. Prof wasn''t so sure about Sandy''s competence in making a valid character. And knowing stuff about a world she visited for fun. How many tourists know how a country works, they visit for a week and spend most of that time in an all-inclusive hotel complex?


    Prof flipped through the pile and was happy, that there was a table of contents right at the beginning. He knew of at least one rule book, where the publisher didn''t think it was necessary to include such a trivial thing, so finding what he was looking for there was a chore. Not in this rulebook though, there was even an index! The first hundred pages of the pile were about the basic rules, then came the Skills, Perks, and the different species.


    And a LOT about how Magic and Chi worked, the different Spells, their properties, and the costs of resources.


    ¡°Ehmmm¡­ Sandy? Can I perhaps get a pen and some paper?¡±


    ¡°Oh, of course! Here! Different colors, erasers, markers, everything you would probably need! You can even take notes in the rule book, when you are done, it will clean up itself!"


    Sandy shoved a stationery shop''s worth of writing utensils at Prof. Ball pens, pencils, crayons, everything was there. Including an old-school writing feather. Armed to the teeth with pens and pencils and the pile of Rule Book, Prof started to get to know the rules his new life would operate under.


    If he were an amateur, he would have jumped right to Character Creation ¨C and would have been surprised how his allegedly fool-proof plan blew up in his face. Or not. Prof decided to play it safe. First, get to know the rules, think about how it would work in reality, and only then make his Character. "Character" may have been the wrong word, since he was not playing a game, but living in the game, so Prof corrected himself: and only then reinvent himself.


    The System wasn''t that complicated, a lot of details felt familiar from the games he played or at least the rules he had read. He had 170 points to set his Stats, of which there were eleven: Strength, Agility, Dexterity, Endurance, Perception, Vitality, Charisma, Intelligence, Willpower, Stability, and Luck. The values could be between one and twenty as a Human (however he found some Species where the bracket was larger or smaller), but everything including and below three would mean he was seriously challenged. Challenged as in "wouldn''t be able to function without help". Of course, this was not stated directly, he had to read and understand a few charts to find it out ¨C a nice trap for a minmaxer, indeed!


    From the points he could also buy ¡°Perks¡±, but he felt the name was not well chosen ¨C in his thinking Perk was something positive, but here he could buy negative ones, and so get more points to spend. And there were thousands of Perks. From [Animal Friend] ¨C animals don¡¯t attack you, cost 1 Point ¨C to [Angel of Slaughter] ¨C every damage dealt is multiplied by five, cost 10 Points ¨C there was everything a deranged mind could come up with. Plus damage? Better results from crafting or doing stuff? Faster travel? Talent in Music? Resistances? Everything was covered.


    There were no Classes whatsoever, so no [Strong-Armed Wanker] or [Drunken Whiner] out there. Prof found the absence of Classes a bit strange, but it was still in the frame of a "System-Governed World". There were Levels and Skills and Perks, after all.


    The System was Skill-driven, not Class-driven ¨C an unusual notion. Interesting but workable. As for Skills¡­ Literally hundreds. From [Knifes] to [Cooking] from [Intimidation] to [Commerce], [Riding] to [Mathematics] there was a Skill for everything. In contrast to most games, Prof didn''t have to choose a few and forget about the others.


    No, he had every last one from the beginning! His head started to hurt remembering all the things he read there. The Skills operated on a percentage-based system: 0% (it was even possible to go below zero) meant, he never heard about the stuff, 50% was enough to function under everyday circumstances, while everything above 500% meant he was a Grandmaster in it. There was no upper limit on Skill Progression, but going above 500% was probably a hassle and didn''t offer that much of an advantage. After all, after every full hundred percent the cost in Skill Points to raise the Skill multiplied. While below 100% it was a conversion 1:1, above it was 1:2, then 1:3, then 1:4, and so on.


    Critical hits were also a thing.


    ¡°Normal" hits and damage just affected the Hit Points, which could be regenerated naturally or healed easily, but if you could land a Critical Hit, however, the effect was on a whole another level: broken bones, nausea, unconsciousness, lost body parts or limbs. Those you could not regenerate, you needed serious professional help. Or at least know how to apply First Aid¡­ correction: [First Aid] as in a Skill. "Criticals" were also in play for every other Skill, not just those the Humans had the best proficiency within millennia past (bashing skulls) ¨C there was a chance you suffer a Critical Failure, or achieve a Critical Success, no matter what you did. Burn down the kitchen while making breakfast ¨C or make a tasty meal out of scraps. That''s the difference.


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    The System assumed, any new citizen will get access to the System at sixteen, but there was a possibility to start later ¨C and get "free" Skill Points for every year spent "outside" the System. However, despite what Sandy said, he did not necessarily have to start at Level 1 ¨C he found the answer in a dropped hint and hidden within the Perks section: for five Points each, he could gain Levels!


    Some strange calculations were going on in the background ¨C the Book never explicitly stated there were some calculations, and even the hints were vague ¨C how fast one could attack and how many actions were possible in any given time, but there was no mention of the time-frame or how everything was calculated.


    Prof had the feeling, it had something to do with Agility and Dexterity, and something else, but could not figure out the how. He concluded, that the higher his two Stats were, the better. Being fast was always good. (No, don¡¯t ask your wife about that! Let¡¯s just say, sometimes a high Endurance was better)


    Curiously there was no mention of continents, countries, gods, or anything else that dealt with the world as such. Probably that was included in another volume, you had to buy separately. Or multiple volumes. The publisher needs to earn money too, after all.


    After what felt like hours (but were probably days), Prof finished with the pile ¨C OK, he just ran through the Magic and Chi part, he was not particularly interested in either. He was neither tired, not hungry nor thirsty ¨C being dead was probably the cause. Have you ever seen a zombie taking a coffee break or getting tired of shambling around? They still eat brains, but probably not for nourishment. Some of them don''t even have a tummy anymore! At this point Prof took a break and consulted his notes:


    1, Stats: Static. Absolute, objective value. Mostly self-evident, the effect is in the name. Charisma is not just beauty, but how you present yourself, Stability is how stable your emotions are, and how calm and resilient against emotional attacks you are. Range: 3-20, above 16 it gets more expensive, above 18 extremely expensive.


    2, Classes: Nope


    3, Skills: Hundreds. Have every last one. One Skill for every possible thing. Can choose four that costs half as much to raise and give a nice bonus. More with Perks?


    4, Abilities and Feats: Nope. Need Chi to use ¡°Spells¡± in Combat. Need Perk to use Chi


    5, Perks: Thousands. Both positive and negative. Can get expensive. No new Perk later?


    6, Damage: Normal and Critical. Critical is better but harder to achieve. Need professional help to heal.


    7, Actions: ??? It¡¯s probably a hidden value.


    8, Age: Starts with 16, later start possible for free Skill Points


    9, Level: Base is one, higher Level possible. <u>Expensive</u>!


    10, Minmaxing: <u>Nope!!!</u> Gets you killed fast. Too many variables!


    Minmaxing was off the table because of the huge number of Skills and Perks and the endless variation they could be combined into. And, of course, the sheer existence of Skills and Perks in this volume.


    If you are playing a game and have your party at hand, you can concentrate on fighting Skills and leave the talking, haggling, reading, and thinking to them. If you are alone ¨C which Prof most assuredly will be for the foreseeable future ¨C you will need to be able to¡­ let''s see¡­ cook, haggle at the market, have an idea what costs what, count the change, speak in more than one-word sentences, apply first aid, know where you are, survive in the wilderness and a plethora of other things. Almost like in real life!


    Oh, wait.


    If he would concentrate on any one skill set, be it commerce, fighting, non-legal stuff, science, or whatever, he would leave himself wide open for nasty surprises ¨C as you would encounter in real life. Oh, wait, again.


    This will be no game, but real life with added benefits! Diversification was the thing here. Sure, with his four Super-Skills, he could somewhat specialize, but by his counting, he would need tens or dozens of other Skills in the range of 100-200% to be able to survive on his own. Comfortably survive.


    He did some calculations, and came to the realization, that without spending Skill Points, most of his Skills would be around 50%. That would be enough for everyday activities, but having a maximum chance of 50% (probably less because of circumstances) to make an omelet out there in the wilderness was a sure way to starve. On the same logic was the rejection of "dump stats". He would need at least an average score in every last one in his Stats from the beginning ¨C since they were static, with no further points to expect ¨C that is at least a round 10. He almost felt sorry for the minmaxer with 1 in¡­ Pick a Stat¡­ or the dumb hero with a low Charisma.


    Oh, no, at least average in everything it is.


    That brought Prof to another painful truth: 170 Points may look like much, but if you want to have good Stats and a few good Perks, it''s basically nothing. Just from a cursory read-through Prof could have chosen Perks with a value of¡­ multiply 170 with any number higher than two¡­


    There were really good Perks on the list. Really good as in Cheat Power good. Those with a cost above 5, that is. Still a few hundred ones¡­ (no, we are still not talking about Chi and Magic! Even to use those two, you would need to spend 5 Points each for the associated Perk, plus further points for the resources themselves, plus further points on This and That and Whatnot. Have I mentioned that every school of Chi and Magic has its own Skill? So yeah, go, roll a Wizard from scratch).


    As much as Prof didn''t want to have glaring weaknesses, he would need to select a few negative Perks to make up the numbers. Yeah, he needed to min-max his weaknesses after all. But wait a minute: what Adventurer needs to know about [Agriculture]? Apples don''t grow on trees after all, but are found in the supermarket! Bummer.


    Not immediately, no. First, he had to clarify a few very important points.


    ¡°Say, Sandy, I do have a few questions. Can everyone on this world level? What Level of Power are we talking about here?¡±

 Chapter 1: How to get whatevered correctly, Part 5

    ¡°Very good questions! I see, you won''t just jump into your new life without thinking about it! I knew I would like you! As far as I know, and I told you, how good a friend of mine the Administrator there is, the average commoner reaches Level five to seven around the age of thirty. The Leveling slows down a bit after that, so most people don''t reach more than¡­ about Level ten to fifteen? Of course, there is nothing like Level Cap there, that would be just soooo lame!"


    That was a problem. Prof could get Skill Points by postponing his "entry to the System", but much less than living in the world would net him. After all, real-life experience is worth more than fake knowledge on a piece of paper. Not to mention, the Locals would gain Levels at the same time. Prof would be left behind by them at the same age, more and more as the age got higher.


    On the other hand, he would be always much better, with higher Skills than a sixteen-year-old beginner. The buyable Levels could solve the problem only within limits: Five Points were a lot for each Level, and he would be left behind nevertheless by the Locals ¨C the free Points would be less than a Local could get realistically within a year. Prof also didn''t miss the caveat: Sandy was speaking about commoners.


    Prof was certain that there were Adventurer-types around ¨C if everybody knows there is EXP grazing away peacefully on the meadow, and everybody knows More EXP = Higher Level and everybody knows Higher Level = More Skill Points or Power or Whatever, there will be some folks (some? A LOT of!) who will start to slaughter innocent, peaceful Dragons and smaller weasels or start stealing apples just for the added EXP. Having Adventurer-Types around just aggravated Prof¡¯s problems.


    To make it clear: with his current age (35) and Level (1 or maybe a few more) Prof would have been left behind by the Locals of his new world, and he had no inclination to start over as a bed-wetter little sixteen-year-old. Puberty was enough once.


    After doing some calculations he realized, even if he bought a Level ¨C what he was prepared to do, no matter what ¨C because of some shenanigans of the System and how it calculated stuff, the workable upper limit for his age would be twenty-five, or rather twenty-two. Diminishing returns, it''s called. The real question was if the extra money the System would give out (yeah, he found out accidentally that he got a starting capital, and that capital got larger every year he postponed his entry) was worth a later entry. If he calculated correctly (he was a child of our times, after all! Who of you could do multiplication without using a calculator? Or just use it for "convenience"?) he would get 17.000 copper at age of twenty-two and 23.000 at age of twenty-five. Assuming, he didn''t spend Points for higher social status or more money. Which he could not do because of the price of the associated Perks.


    ¡°Sandy, I¡¯m almost ready to begin., but could you help me put in the monetary system there? It''s clear I would get some Copper Coins, but how much is a Copper worth? What other denominations are there?¡±


    ¡°WOW! You really did think about things! There are a few monetary systems and exchange rates there, but for the setup, we use an average value for a Copper here! Isn''t it neat? If I recall correctly, a Copper is worth around one EUR, depending on the market and the exchange rate, but one Copper to one Euro is about right! Mostly, one hundred Iron Bits make a Copper, one hundred Copper is a Silver, one hundred Silver is a Gold and one hundred Gold is a Platinum! There are higher denominations, but those are rarely used!"


    That was less helpful than you may think. With multiple monetary systems and exchange rates between currencies, a Copper could have a value of¡­ whatever. At least for the set-up, Prof had something he could work with. He was somewhat aware of medieval prices ¨C however, the exchange rates between currencies and inflation within countries being problematic points ¨C and he had found some allegedly authentic price lists for RPG campaigns so he was relatively sure, he could outfit himself from the lower amount and would still have some pocket money. Of course, he would not have enough money for some nice high-end gear even if he would have spent a lot of Points on Status and Wealth. Which he could not.


    The next question was, in what kind of environment and style he planned to live his new life? He rejected every combination of peasant, crafter, or bureaucratic career out of hand. The last one he already tried in his last life (and there was still the option of HR on the Death Star, after all, which seemed better if he wanted to push files around. Even counting folks trying to blow up his office), and if he had the option to have his self given an objective value with the possibility to advance and progress as the System promised, he would not spend his time tilling fields or making nails.


    He also rejected the Wizard-Mage-Sorcerer line, because he never played one, and didn''t excite him now either (and was waaay too expensive in this System), and the sneaky-backstabby option was also not for his liking. First, wealth redistribution was, in contrast to games, frowned upon in the marginally civilized parts of the real world (save for politicians, but that''s another game entirely), and secondly knowing things about the medieval justice system, he wasn''t keen to experience lashing, mutilation, quartering, breaking by the wheel and all those other "fun" things folks back then invented to rehabilitate criminals. So, he had to¡­ reinvent himself¡­ as some kind of warrior.


    Prof assumed, that at least for the first part of his new life he would be adventuring alone, so the secret for survival was to deal as much damage and in as short a time as possible. Focusing on defense was well and good, but if you can not deal overwhelming damage at the same time, you will have a stalemate or you lose. That''s not a problem if you have friends to exterminate your enemy, but on your own? Sword-and-board wasn''t to his liking either: less damage output for slightly better defense. He needed damage! Lots of damage!


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    Consulting the rule book again, the possibility was there for lots of damage in a short time: two medium one-handed weapons with relatively high damage output, medium armor at most (oh, yeah, armor reduced Agility and Dexterity¡­ Why not go the fantasy way where heavy armor even gives out Agility and Dexterity?!?!), and the highest possible chance to land a Critical Hit. With some careful spending, he could make it work.


    How fast he could attack depended on Agility and Dexterity, which in turn also determined his hand-to-hand Skills. Strength also played a role, as well as the damage bonus, and how heavy a weapon he could wield. He started making calculations, flipping through the rule book. For Critical Hits he needed Luck, and for a lot of Skills ¨C and of course, Skill Point per Level ¨C Intelligence was the to-go Stat. After almost a dozen failed attempts, Prof checked his notes and calculations the last time and turned to his Customer Service Advisor.


    ¡°Sandy, I think, I got it. How do we proceed from here?¡±


    ¡°Very good! You finished earlier than I thought! You are so awesome! Concentrate on the concept of Character Sheet, and we can start the setup!"


    After trying for a short time, Prof managed to open his mental character sheet ¨C not a customary Blue Box, but what looked like the collection of parchment pages. The design was logical, it was a medieval world, and not some glittering Sci-Fi with touchscreens after all. Prof quite liked it. The sheets were currently empty, and the boxes next to Species, Gender, Age and Stats flashed a bright red, meaning they have to be filled out before proceeding.


    Prof realized that the boxes had to be filled out in a particular order, starting with species. He remembered a lot of species from the rule book, and despite some of them having interesting and nice bonuses, he didn''t feel it in himself to live the rest of his life in the skin of some not-quite-Human ¨C or in the skin of that¡­ thing¡­ on page fifteen of the list. Nightmare stuff. No thank you.


    Without much thought, he kept with the crown of creation. Human, that is. Gender was even easier. It was one thing that he played mostly with female characters in computer games (yeah, looking at a clothed female while playing was better in his opinion than watching a male), but gender swap was another.


    Besides: in medieval times as a female? Treated like breeding stock, burned at the stakes when giving lip, and generally looked down upon? No, thank you very much! Have you guessed? Yes, he kept himself as a male. Since he did the calculations beforehand, Age didn¡¯t pose a problem either: 22 years old and neither did the next task, namely to fill out his Stats. Well prepared by his previous character creation binge, Prof filled out those boxes fast:


    Strength: 14


    Agility: 18


    Dexterity: 18


    Endurance: 14


    Perception: 11


    Vitality: 14


    Charisma: 11


    Intelligence: 18


    Willpower: 12


    Stability: 12


    Luck: 16


    He needed high Agility and Dexterity for his planned fighting style and high Intelligence for Skill Points per Level. Prof thought, that in order to close the gap arising from his advanced age in relation to the local greenhorns, he needed as many Skill Points as possible ¨C he would be still under-leveled, but at least his Skills would be good. He wanted to raise his Luck to 18 too (for a better chance at Critical Hits) and felt his Charisma and Perception a bit on the lower side, but could do nothing against it. He didn''t have any more Points ¨C he didn''t want to decrease his other Stats, nor wanted to take on even more negative Perks than he already had to. That extra Level was expensive!


    After he filled out the boxes, the sheets disappeared from his view, and he was presented with a full-length mirror. And of course, he was naked ¨C at least in the mirror. Stripping in front of your Next-Life Advisor was probably frowned upon. He looked a bit¡­ better¡­ than in his past life, his developing beer muscles (that''s the politically correct name for beer belly if you didn''t know) retracted, and his whole physique got a bit more toned.


    Of course, it did not reach bodybuilder-toned, but there was a marked improvement. His face too got a bit more¡­ charismatic. And of course, there was the minor point, that he rejuvenated for thirteen years. Prof admired himself for a bit, and concluded, he never looked so good and fit in his entire life. Is that fair? Do you have to die to look better? Folks making a living out of their looks should be told that.


    Prof realized that he could change his looks in detail. Skin, hair, or eye color? Size and shape of his ears, nose, everything? It was like he made a character in one of the better games. Not that he ever managed to get the looks right there, but at least he could play around a bit.


    And playing around he did.


    Among others, he made himself to be hung like a horse ¨C guys, who amongst you wouldn''t try it, if you had the chance, just for fun and the looks? In the end, he kept his default looks. In his thirty-five years he somehow got attached to his splendid visage (and, as stated previously, he looked better than in life already), he just decreased his body hair a bit ¨C ok, a lot ¨C and finally decided to¡­ modify his¡­ best friend''s¡­ length slightly. Just a couple of centimeters. Just for¡­ Well, why not, it was free.


    No, don''t be afraid, this won''t be a Harem Novel where you can (or have to) marvel at his extreme power between the sheets! I don''t write that kind of stuff!


    Moving on.

 Chapter 1: How to get whatevered correctly, Part 6

    After Prof finished with his looks (and admiring them in the mirror) he had to choose and enter his Perks. He did choose them earlier when he contemplated his build, so this task wasn¡¯t that hard either. He chose:


    <u>Bloodbath:</u> Aren¡¯t you a little butcher? Now you can slaughter everything faster! Slightly. Gain +10 damage in Hand-to-Hand and Melee combat, no matter the weapon.


    <u>Bonus Melee Attack:</u> Slaughter more efficiently! By spending years refining your movements your melee attacks are faster.


    <u>Better Criticals:</u> Do you like to watch your enemy''s spilled intestines and splattered brain? Do you like to bathe in their blood? You are on the right path! If you achieve a Critical Hit, the damage you deal is 50% higher, and you have a 25% chance to maim a body part.


    <u>More Criticals:</u> If it''s about dismembering your enemies in the most brutal way, nothing is good enough for you! You get a +5% chance for a Critical Hit.


    <u>Ambidextrous:</u> Are you fed up with only being able to scratch your behind with only one hand? Now you can do it with both! You don¡¯t have to suffer a deduction from your Skill if you use your other hand for tasks.


    <u>EXP-sponge:</u> What doesn¡¯t kill you, gives you EXP! The more, the better! You gain +10% more EXP. Poor little weasels.


    <u>Educated:</u> You realize the connections faster, and no footnote escapes your attention. You gain +25 Skill Points per Level.


    <u>Munchkin:</u> If you abuse the System, don¡¯t go half ways! You gain one Level!


    <u>Cartographer:</u> You don''t know where the bar is? Look at the map! You will be able to read a map perfectly, can make your own maps (The Skill [Art: Drawing] will still influence the result!), and will have a sense, of what is where in relation to you.


    The first five Perks he had to get for his planned fighting style: eviscerate every enemy with two one-handed weapons in the fastest and most efficient way possible. Since the Rule Book never stated explicitly there was a calculation regarding the speed of attack and actions, Prof thought it prudent to pick a Perk that made his attacks "faster". Obviously, the people didn''t need to know about the calculation (if there was in fact one) ¨C but probably did some experimentation down on the world and figured it out nevertheless, but there are things where you can not trump Locals living under a System for probably thousands of years.


    Even if Prof didn''t know how it worked, every last bit helped to beat that monster up fast. Like having ten guaranteed extra damage for every successful hit. There were a lot of Perks that gave extra damage, but most gave either a bonus percentage or a multiplicator, and they were too expensive. The chance for a Critical Hit was half the value of Luck, so Prof could achieve one with every twelfth hit ¨C but with the Perk that moved up to every eighth. Theoretically, at least. If he achieved a Critical Hit he would deal even more damage.


    With the next three Perks, Prof tried to close the gap with the Locals. More EXP plus more Skill Points equals a smaller gap. Even so, he was probably at a disadvantage to the locals, who had six years of experience on Prof. He would have chosen the Perks multiple times (and also the Perks for fighting), but concluded that even more negative Perks were not in his interest.


    He thought most about the very last one. He decided to pick it up because he was good at reading maps in his old life (and yes, he abhorred the route planners), and he liked to know where he was without having to rely on his mobile phone. And hope there is a connection to use the mobile phone. Since he doubted, mobile phones and cell towers were a thing in a medieval world (yes, they are quite new in our world too, you youngsters will probably not believe it, but a few decades ago no one walked around with his eyes glued to his smartphone!), so he had to find his way on his own. Not just figuratively.


    Next came the negative Perks.


    <u>Bad Skill:</u> You haven''t really dealt with this Skill in your life. You suffer a -25% penalty for the Skill.


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    He picked it up five times.


    <u>Anti-Talent:</u> Not that way, man! You are absolutely unfit for this Skill. You would make everyone happy if you didn''t even try. You suffer a -30% penalty for a Skill, and it is twice as expensive to rise it.


    He picked it up three times.


    <u>Parvenu:</u> You thought, you could buy your way into high aristocracy with enough money? You are actually right, but they won¡¯t accept you. The upper classes will look down on you no matter how much money you amass.


    Although Prof started to get fixated on Skills, he had to pick the first two ¨C everything else either caused his fighting power to diminish, gave him some addiction or mental issues, a shorter lifespan, fewer resistances to the environment, or a disability. Or some other undesired effect.


    There were probably people out there who would willingly pick to be Shunned for the maximum of seven points just for the validation or for the Points, but good luck to find anyone you could talk to anywhere (OK, what would be Shunned for seven points anyway? A Kobold entering society? A black, non-Christian, openly homosexual female with leprosy and visible STDs working as a courtesan in Fourteenth Century Europe?).


    Prof wasn¡¯t one of them.


    Masochisms and political activism do have some limits ¨C and when there is no CSI in a world, the authorities didn''t care about the whereabouts of some troublemaker, and finding the corpse of a loud-mouthed idealist below the refuse pile is not in the interest of the Town Guard (who may or may not have put the corpse there in the first place). You better not rock the boat. You may fall out.


    He planned to use the three Anti-Talents on things he would never ever use, and the five Bad Skills on stuff he had no real interest in, but may have a use for later on. No one and nothing could stand in his way to get Overpowered!


    If someone or something tried, it will be overpowered into oblivion! Hahaha!


    Of course, that was for later, number one priority was still to survive till overpoweredness kicked in.


    The last one he picked was because the filthy rich and entitled looked down on everyone else already, so that made no difference at all. If Prof managed to get filthy rich and entitled himself¡­ well, those blue-blooded wankers can look down on him as long as they want. What''s the worst thing that could happen? They won''t invite him to some boring reception or fund raiser? He won''t be able to join some secret cabals? Well, that would be soooooo saaad.


    Or not.


    Whatever.


    Finally, Prof arrived at Skills! Because of his Age and Level he had almost eight hundred Points to play with! First, he picked his Super-Skills, and raised them to 150% - [Axes], [Evasion], [Looting], and [Valuation] were his picks. The first two helped to hit things reliably and not to get hit in return. The third should have been a get-to for every Grave Robber, Burglar, and Corpse Looters... Ehmmm¡­


    Sorry, I meant for every upstanding Adventurer! It made the usual¡­ options¡­ to get money or valuable thing easier: you just knew, where people¡­ ehmmm¡­ the monsters put their valuables, where it was folks¡­ ehmmm¡­ the Evil Wizard put their safes, and it almost guaranteed to find more and more valuable stuff on corpses¡­ Ehmmm¡­ on the cadavers of your vanquished foes.


    For the last one? Ever wanted to know how much that Sword cost? What its "Stats" are? You don''t have to visit the shady merchant in a back-alley any more! With this Skill, you will be able to tell the value of your pilfered Sword without problems! The System guarantees it! Pick it up now!


    Khmmm¡­ Commercial over, we switch back to our main program.


    Prof was almost certain, that most merchants would cheat him out of his honestly pilfered loot without a blink, so he thought it important to have at least a passing familiarity with what the loot really cost. Even then, someone with a high [Commerce] Skill would probably haggle him down, but at least he knew he was out-commerced. With 150% in the Skill he assumed, he could put a value to every commonly found item, and maybe even to most not-so-common ones.


    His three Anti-Talents went into [Agriculture], [Mining], and [Livestock Breeding]. He had not the slightest inclination to dig dirt or do such heavy work. He was from a city, after all! He also picked his five Bad Skills: [Geology], [Astrology], [Blacksmithing], [Masonry], and [Tanning]. Heavy or smelly work, no thanks!


    It would have been easy if he could have just dumped the Perks on Magic, which he was not interested in, but the Magic Skills were so low to begin with, that he would have slipped into negative proficiency. He had the suspicion that with any negative Skill he would be awed and intimidated by the use of said Skill.


    Not a good prospect.


    If anything, he would have to get more familiar with magical things, just to recognize the different schools, what they did, and what they could do.


    With the rest of his Skill Points, he raised [Speech] to 125% (he found it strange that he could not choose a language, but assumed it would be set when he arrived in the new world), while [Geography], [Navigation], [Commerce], [Bare-handed Combat] and [Daggers] were set to 101%. It was good to know where you were and where you were headed, after all!


    He planned to use axes for the most part, but it was never a bad idea to have some insurance: his fists and feet were attached to him, so he would never be weaponless in a pinch, and knives and daggers were basically laying around everywhere. He planned to get his other fighting Skills to this level too, but that was not a priority right now.


    The rest of his Points ¨C around 200 ¨C were distributed between [Riding], [Wilderness Survival], [Tracking], [Hunting], [Intimidation], [Convincing], and [Etiquette] ¨C none of the Skills got above 100%, but being between 50 and 80% Prof was confident he had a relatively good chance in everyday life. And besides, he planned to get those to around 100% too later.


    He checked his Sheets one more time and turned to the grinning clerk.

 Chapter 1: How to get whatevered correctly, Part 7

    ¡°Hey, Sandy, I think I''m done. Still, I do have some questions. For a lot of my culture-specific Skills, there was no country or culture to choose from. Why is that?"


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t be bothered! We place you randomly into the world, those Skills will activate and be designated when you arrive at your destination!¡±


    Prof almost had a panic attack. That rule could be abused sooooo much! Sure, you know one language, know about one culture, know about one culture''s literature, legends, laws, and history, and you got transplanted somewhere completely else. Where your Skills don''t mean shit.


    You will be a stranded fish.


    Even now, in our world, you won¡¯t get far by knowing only your own language ¨C even if it is English. Statistically, English is only the third most known language, so you better start learning Spanish and Chinese too. In medieval times? You could call yourself lucky if you found someone who spoke the language of the next country over. Prof really, really hoped, Sandy and the Administrator wouldn¡¯t be asses and gave him the cultural Skills of the country he was sent to.


    ¡°Also, you will only be able to access the knowledge of your new Skills, when you leave our humble office! Of course, your previous skills and knowledge will be locked at the same time!"


    ¡°What, do you mean, I will forget everything from my life?¡±


    ¡°Oh, no! If we did that, we would alter you! That only means, you will not be able to access and use those skills and knowledge! Do you understand the difference?¡±


    ¡°Not quite.¡±


    ¡°Sooooo¡­ Let''s use an example! You spoke multiple languages back on Earth, right? In the new world, you have only one [Speech] Skill, which is one of the new world''s languages. You can not use any of the Earth Languages there, since you don''t have a Skill for them, but you still remember those and can think about them. It''s a bit complicated, but let''s say you can think about Earth-Things but can not talk about them in detail. Was I clear?¡±


    This was the first time, Sandy wasn''t overly excited. She was somehow¡­ unsure?¡­ maybe? Or just half-remembered something that was crucial for her job.


    ¡°Not quite, no. Sorry, Sandy. Next question: What kind of gear will I get? According to the Rules, I should have a load of money ¨C can I spend it here, or just in the new world? What about my stuff?¡±


    ¡°Oh, very good questions!" Sandy was back to her usual self "Let''s tackle it from the back! Right now, you don''t have any stuff. Everything you see on yourself, clothes, watches, and money is just a memory of the real things! Everything was left behind on Earth!"


    Sandy made a motion with her hands, and Prof''s old stuff just disappeared, to give place for new things: simple Turn-shoes, undyed linen trousers and shirt, a black vest, and a hempen belt.


    Cool.


    Prof could now enter a cosplay competition for 15<sup></sup> Century''s unskilled workers for the agrarian sector and win. At least he had some accessories: He had a fifteen centimeters knife and a hatchet on his belt, a messenger bag, and a sack. Prof quickly checked the contents.


    Pocket knife, wooden cutlery, a wooden plate and cup, whetstone, a candle, flint and steel, a dozen sewing needles with some yarn, something that looked vaguely like soap, the parody of a toothbrush, two packages of ¡°gauze¡±, but more probably spare length of linen, a loaf of bread, a length of sausages, some water in a waterskin and finally in a small pouch a complete set of bone dices ¨C D2 (also known as ¡°a coin¡±), D4, four D6s, D8, two D10s, D12, D20. Yeah, the World Administrator did have a sick kind of humor.


    Why not give out an Xbox and a copy of Switcher 3 and laugh?!?!


    Save for the dice, everything played into the unskilled vagrant vibe. Prof wasn''t overwhelmed by his new gear. Back home a random hobo would have better stuff. But hey, he still had a bunch of coins to spend!


    ¡°According to the rules, you would have only received the starter pack, if you asked for it! The same goes for shopping!" Sandy''s smile got radiant again. Prof wasn''t so happy about it. If he wanted to get irradiated, he would have visited Chernobyl and would have liked some left-over metal, and not wait till death and a secret-keeping con-woman of a clerk.


    ¡°I soooo knew, you would ask! Most don¡¯t and are offended when they got tossed out into the new world in their undies! Or naked! Why? It¡¯s their own fault for not checking for free stuff! It¡¯s even written there in the book!¡±


    ¡°Ehmmm¡­ Sandy, what about shopping?" Prof never thought he would use those exact words. He wasn''t a teenage girl who found daddy''s credit card, but he ached to get down to shopping. The Afterlife was so strange.


    ¡°Oh, Yes! To go shopping, just concentrate on the concept of a Convenience Store! It should be sooo easy! I wish I could go shopping like that!"


    Prof didn''t waste any time, and while ignoring a drooling Sandy, the next moment he found himself in a trading window, known to all computer RPG players. He almost expected parchments with long lists of goods, not an interactive shopping site straight out of the ''net or a game.


    There were tabs. Tabs upon tabs, and some more tabs as a bonus.


    There were tabs for animals, means of transport (from hand-carts to ocean-going tall ships and even flying ships!), slaves, foodstuff, weapons, armor, clothing, furniture, art, mixed goods, toys, general gear, precious stones and valuables, jewelry, potions, poisons, raw materials, semi-finished products, and so on. And on.


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    Oh, there was a tab even for real estate!


    Probably every last thing ever made or was even possible to make on the new world was there. Made from every possible material, in every possible shape, color, pattern, and in every possible quality, from Trash to frelling Artefacts!!! Surely, it was the wet dream of your average girlfriend or wife who wanted to "go to the mall a bit" - at least with this interface the average boyfriend or husband wouldn''t be tortured to come along, but Prof was sick.


    Look, guys don¡¯t like shopping. They know what they want, go to the store, grab the first thing that is vaguely the correct form or product, and are done with it in five minutes. Tops. To browse an unending list, where you don¡¯t even know, what you want exactly, is just pure torture.


    Prof took a deep breath and started spending his hard-earned money.


    First, he applied a filter on the "Weapons" tab to see the One-handed Axes, but that still produced hundreds, no, thousands of options. After some fiddling, he deleted common quality and below and everything above rare, then every material worse than iron (stone, bone, and copper ¨C fun fact: bronze is actually a better alloy than iron, but iron is easier and cheaper to make), and better than steel (that would be around one-and-a-half dozen materials!).


    The list was still too long. He almost despaired, but found another function: he could apply separate filters for the size of the weapon and the head! With that, it was easy to choose two weapons. It took only about an hour¡­


    <u>One-Handed armour-piercing Axe</u>


    Material: average wood with a steel head


    Quality: Uncommon


    Properties: 80 centimeters long, one medium head, one armor-piercing spike (armor and damage 50%)


    Damage: 5-50


    <u>One-Handed Axe</u>


    Material: average wood with a steel head


    Quality: Uncommon


    Properties: 50 centimeters long, two small heads


    Damage: 5-35


    Just these two weapons took away 15 Silvers from his total of 170, if he would have selected some better wood, that would have cost him a further 5. Even that was considered cheap!


    Weapons made from better materials and of higher quality could cost 150 gold. Each. If he bought some enchantments or magical properties¡­ What was the larger denomination than Platinum again? Yeah, some people drive a Ferrari, but the really filthy rich just buy some over-the-top-of-the-line gear and smile contemptuously on those upstarts.


    For buying armor, he at least had some experience already with the interface, but it still took time, because he had to buy separate pieces for every body part. He almost cried, when 129 Silver and 50 Coppers went poof, but at least he had his new gear:


    <u>Leather Breast Plates and Pauldrons with Steel Inlays</u>


    Material: auroch hide with steel inlays


    Quality: Uncommon


    Armour Rate: 29 (on upper body and waist)


    <u>Leather Vambraces and Greaves with Steel Inlays</u>


    Material: auroch hide with steel inlays


    Quality: Uncommon


    Armour Rate: 29 (on forearms and shins)


    <u>Steel Nasal Helmet</u>


    Material: Steel with wool padding


    Quality: Uncommon


    Armour Rate: 51 (on the head)


    <u>Leather Gloves</u>


    Material: average leather


    Quality: Common


    Armour Rate: 10 (on hands)


    The whole thing decreased his Agility and Dexterity by one each, so it was not that ideal, but from the money he had, he could not buy anything better. Just for fun, he checked the really high-end stuff, and if he hadn¡¯t been dead already, he would have suffered a few heart attacks and strokes.


    Forget high-end weapons. Armour was the real measure of wealth! If you could buy an American aircraft carrier for personal use, the owner of a high-end full set of armor would still smile condescendingly at you.


    It was that expensive.


    Since Prof didn''t want to cosplay as an unskilled worker in the agrarian field, he had to invest in his wardrobe too. First of all was a nice high-quality, studded, steel-tipped pair of combat boots ¨C or at least what the medieval folks could make in the line.


    Next came two pairs of sturdy but good-looking pants and shirts ¨C one black, one dark green ¨C a vaguely Cowboy-hat looking head-wear, a cloak ¨C he even found one with woodland camo pattern! ¨C a dark green scarf, a good quality belt with attached hooks and rings for weapons and gear, a small money pouch, and some spare under-wares. Almost 13 Silver are gone again¡­


    Sure, he could have bought it cheaper, but he invested in quality. He had the chance now to get equipped, but he had no clue when he would find a nice store selling stuff in that quality range and looks.


    Then he applied his gamer knowledge to buy stuff, most folks simply forget 30 meters of strong rope, two better quality bedrolls, a large wooden-framed backpack, a few cooking utensils, pen and ink, and a small notebook (do I have to clarify? Not the tech-no-logical thingy, but the one made out of paper).


    Unfortunately, the potions were expensive: for one healing one HP the store charged five coppers! With a heavy heart, Prof bought three potions, each able to heal 20 HP ¨C dead he couldn''t spend the saved money, after all. To round his purchase out, he bought some dried meat and fruits.


    Getting to this point, he could have killed for a drink and a smoke ¨C the first part he solved by buying a half-a-liter quality beer and a tin jug. The administrator of his new world (or the shop handler) was even gracious enough to put the beer into the jug and not spray it over his gear.


    After his spending spree, Prof still had six Silver, one Copper, and somehow an Iron Bit.

 Chapter 1: How to get whatevered correctly, Part 8

    ¡°Wow! What nice shopping you did! I would sooo like to do it myself! Since your new stuff is just an image of possible things, and your old ones are only a memory, you can pack everything where you want it here!"


    That was a nice touch.


    Prof imagined spawning in the middle of a street and having to scramble to find his clothes in a messy pile. Probably there was some law regarding public decency around, and probably no one cared that a poor foreigner just spawned and hadn''t time to don his clothes. He got dressed without further prompt: Boots, green trousers, beginner shirt, armor, cloak, and scarf. The beginner knife he fastened to his back, and his two new axes found a place on his belt. He put his spare clothes, beginner hatchet, rope, and bedrolls into his backpack, the foodstuff and cutlery went into the sack and everything else into the messenger bag.


    He took a few moves to make sure, everything was comfortable and easy to reach, and started to ask Sandy a few last questions.


    ¡°Say, Sandy¡­ I''ve got a lot of things because I asked for the Rule Book and the Store, but what about those, who don''t read the rules, don''t ask about the store and such?"


    ¡°Oh, I sooo knew you will ask about that! Actually, you also asked about cultural Skills, so you will get a reward for that too! My friend believes strongly in rewarding effort and doesn''t just give out presents for free!" Sandy looked a bit uncomfortable for once.


    ¡°You know, if you haven''t asked for the Rule Book, we would have either assigned random numbers to your Stats or more likely sent you to the world with your last-life-Stats! Probably he would have given you a very nice Perk ¨C some of those more expensive than 5 ¨C because he is a sooo nice guy! And the hidden Perk [Utter Moron]. As for money and gear¡­ Well if you couldn''t figure it out and hadn''t asked about them, that would have meant that you don''t need them¡­ Ehmmm..."


    ¡°What?!? You mean, if I haven''t asked about the shopping, I would have gotten the beginner set, and set loose broke?" Prof suddenly got the chills. In a new world without money and just the cosplay costume would have netted him an early grave. Assuming, roaming monsters had the decency to put him into a grave, and not just eat him. There were probably some records sponsored by a beverage company, how fast you would die after relocating!


    ¡°Oh, no, you got it wrong!" Prof relaxed a bit. "Since you figured out the money thing, you would have still gotten your money! However, if you hadn''t asked for gear and shopping, you wouldn''t have gotten anything else!"


    ¡°No beginner set either?¡±


    ¡°No beginner set either!¡±


    ¡°And where would have I put the money? I had to buy my own pouch for the coins!¡±


    ¡°Ehmm¡­ There are places you could¡­ No, I¡¯m not talking about places!!! Lalalalala¡±


    ¡°So, to make it clear: If I hadn¡¯t figured it out and asked for it, I would have been set loose naked and broke?!?


    ¡°Yes! But you did figure it out, and have asked! Also, you asked about cultural stuff!¡±


    ¡°OK, and how would that help me? I still can''t assign any species, culture, or country to the Skills!"


    ¡°Weeeeellll¡­ I told you, that you would be placed randomly into the world, yes? If you hadn¡¯t asked for the Rule Book, you would have kept your Skills from home.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not that bad!¡±


    ¡°I clarify: you would have kept the exact Skills and Skill Levels, as you had on Earth, and they would not have converted to Skills in the new world. Despite your fiction on Earth, no one speaks English outside of Earth. Do you understand?"


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    ¡°Oh...¡± That was bad. Worst case scenario: he would have arrived in the new world butt naked, broke, could not understand anyone, and wouldn''t even have a clue how to behave properly. Do you know what those kinds of people are called? Dead. Or with a bit of Luck: Slave. At least he asked for that damned Rule Book!


    ¡°Of course, since you asked for the Book, your Skills will be converted. And since you actually asked about the cultural Skills and why you couldn''t select a country, those will be converted to the places where you arrive! Isn''t it neat?"


    No, it wasn¡¯t. Prof already figured out, how the World Administrator liked to play.


    ¡°So, if I hadn''t asked, the Skills would have been converted into random place''s ones, not necessarily where I would have arrived?"


    ¡°Oh, I knew I liked you! You are sooo smart! Yes, it means exactly that! Isn¡¯t the Administrator such a nice guy!¡±


    No, he wasn''t. Prof would have rather used the words "Asshole", "Bastard", or a few others, but no, nice guy he wouldn''t have called him. At least Prof dodged the bullet and got a new self, passable gear, and a chance to have a shot at surviving. Still, he could not make himself comfortable.


    He was still basically a noob in the endgame town ¨C where the town was the whole wide world. He seriously doubted the Administrator would be such a nice guy to make zones for certain level brackets and put up signs: "Oy, Noob, don''t go there!". There were probably some barely-inhabited patches out there, where the true monsters lived, but even in a normal environment, he had to assume, something was crawling along in the night. Something that could or would eat him if given the chance. He was too under-leveled, and he needed to catch up fast.


    ¡°Oh, yeah, he really is a nice guy¡± Prof retorted finally. There was absolutely no sarcasm in his tone. None. Really! Not, that Sandy would notice it anyway. "Those other people would after all not die in a short time."


    ¡°Oh, yes! My friend has a whole library full of novels written about them! Not counting the few absolute morons, most manage to survive, and even reach really high levels! There was this boy who became the best Mage in all the world, and that girl with awesome healing powers! And that other guy! All of them started without reading the Rule Book, or asking questions!"


    Sandy went on and on and on about this guy and that chick, how they became famous, and whatnot. Prof managed to filter out the droning again. He wasn''t exactly sure those people were real, and not just Main Characters in novels ¨C a few of the stories he was certain he read. Either Sandy confused novels for reality or there was some interdimensional copyright scam going on. Prof gave it even chances.


    Of course, publishing the same book in multiple dimensions and paying the author only for the sales in his own world would be right in the alley of big companies. Or take the manuscript, scrap it in the home world, but publish it elsewhere. Ah, of course, no company on Earth would do such a thing, siphon revenue out of a foreign subsidiary, or find tax heavens or any such a thing! Our companies are exemplary being exemplary!


    Khmmm¡­. Back to Prof and his musings.


    ¡°Hey, Sandy. You mentioned an open-air dungeon previously. I always thought that dungeons are these subterranean murder holes. Isn''t an open-air thing something other than a dungeon?"


    ¡°What else could it be? You got challenges, mazes, you got doors you can open only with the right keys, the home team is everywhere and aggroes on you if you do something bad! Like having a weapon, going where you should not, or having a bad attitude! It''s a hassle to get from the beginning to the very end! What would you call it? An Airport? Hahaha!"


    Prof should have learned already not to ask questions about how the world (any world!) worked, or at least expect a meaningful answer. He figured this time was as good as any to say his goodbyes (and finally drink that quality beer).


    ¡°So, Sandy, I think I got everything. Can I go on?¡±


    ¡°Oh, you are the very best dead person¡­ oh, sorry, I should use the phrase vitality-challenged, you know there was this cadaver who took offense at being called a dead person, so we have to use vitality-challenged individual in official communications. So, Prof, you are the very best¡­ ah, I can''t say it, it''s so ridiculous¡­ Customer in a long time!" Prof could swear, there was a teardrop in Sandy''s eye. She gave him a big hug and said cheerily "Take good care! I will enjoy watching you!"


    What da frell?!?! Watching? Is this some kind of sick reality show?!?! Prof tried to get the point clarified, but the place of the office was replaced by the Capital-lettered Nature and his new life.


    ¡°Baaaah?¡±


    ¡°I think I have arrived...¡±

 Chapter 2: Gooood Mooorning, Arkaaaadia! Part 1

    Prof and his new, four-legged companion were standing on a small hill, bordered on three sides by a deep forest, and on the fourth by a shallow valley with plowed fields, pastures, and a small village.


    Before anything else, Prof made himself comfortable beneath a large tree and drank his beer with pleasure. The view was nice (one could even describe it as picturesque ¨C if someone with any talent painted it and left it somewhere for a couple of centuries, you could have bought a house from the price), and there was no unfocused customer service chick to drone on and on about things no one was interested in and the ¨C imaginary ¨C headache Prof was building in the Afterlife Office was starting to fade.


    The only thing he missed was a smoke, but he haven''t found anything similar in the "Convenience Store". Probably the Locals lived healthily without the Tobacco Industry forcing them to smoke, just for letting themselves be sued.


    Yeah, sure.


    Prof found a few things in the store that made cigarettes look and smell like fresh mountain air, and a few that were maybe illegal everywhere that is not a shaman¡¯s hut. And a lot of stuff, that would have made any drug dealer back on Earth¡­ have a very good time on his own. Multiple times. The stuff was that good. With all that stuff floating around (yes, if someone can make and sell it, it will float around), and using only open fire, Prof had doubts about the health condition of the Locals ¨C who did not smoke.


    But whatever.


    According to the climate and the plants Prof assumed he was somewhere in the temperate zone, and if his guess based on his Central European upbringing was right, it should be around May, or the beginning of June at the latest. With around 25 degrees Celsius and not a cloud in sight it was a perfect late-spring day!


    The best day for a beer, after an exhausting shopping spree.


    After he was done with his beer, he turned his attention to a blinking red exclamation mark in his left lower peripheral view. Oh, the System had something to say? His assumption proved correct, after concentration on the mark, a few ethereal parchments appeared before his eyes.


    <u>Attention!</u>


    We welcome you to the world of Arkadia! Because of your species and choices, you have been spawned in the Kingdom of Wanderberg on the continent of Fenria! Your Cultural Skills have been accordingly set to Bergian. This includes but is not limited to [Speech], [Literature], [History], [Laws], [Heraldry], [Culture], and [Etiquette]. Have a nice life!


    <u>Attention!</u>


    By actually reading and understanding the Rule Book and also asking intelligent questions, you have lost the hidden Perk Utter Moron. Also, for showing at least a minimum of Intelligence in reinventing yourself, your EXP-Sponge Perk was upgraded to the Perk Point Harvester. You now receive not only 10% more EXP but also 10% more Skill Points among others. It''s not stealing if it''s just laying around without an owner! Go, harvest!


    <u>Attention!</u>


    Because your Skills: [Navigation] and [Geography] are higher than 100% from the start, and you possess the Cartographer Perk, you have been gifted with a Mental Map! The Map will show you the places where you have been personally in great detail. You can paste other maps into your Mental Map, these will be shown in another color. Please be aware that the correctness of these maps will be unknown till you visit the place yourself!


    <u>Attention!</u>


    Because your Skills: [Looting] and [Valuation] are higher than 100% and your Luck is higher than 15 from the start, you have been gifted with the Perk: Scavenger. From now on you will have a higher chance to find something good while rummaging through stuff! Get rich, baby!


    Prof was cracking with joy!


    The Mental Map was an incredible boon, he basically got his own interactive GPS with a satellite mapping function! He checked it out immediately ¨C according to the scale, the continent ¨C no, Fenria ¨C was about as large as geographical Europe (that is: till the Urals), with the large inland seas and bays (Baltic, North Sea, Biscay, and the Adriatic) missing. Of course, there were only the coastal outlines, a few larger islands near the coast, about a dozen major rivers, and a few mountain ranges included, without any real detail.


    In contrast, the hill he was sitting on and about a kilometer around it was nicely colored, with the nearby hills, valleys and the village indicated. His tiny, colorful patch was situated a bit to the West of Central Fenria, if you would compare the continent to Europe, around South-Eastern Germany, maybe Austria or thereabout.


    There was a mountain range indicated to the North-West and a major river flowing from there to the South-East. From the colorful patch, Prof interfered that his¡­ let''s call it Mapping Sphere had a diameter of one kilometer while standing (or in this case, sitting) on a small hill. Prof was sure that in a forest the sphere would be smaller, and he will have to climb trees quite often.


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    The Perk he got gifted was a nice addition to his Skills but took only second place on his new Map. He was almost in love with the Map.


    Map good! Map nice!


    The upgrade was also nice, plus 10% for his Skill Points meant¡­ a further ten. He may have been a bit over-zealous with his drive to close the gap to the Locals and managed to amass a whopping 99 Skill Points per Level ¨C before the new Perk. Unfortunately, it was not retroactive, but let''s not be greedy, shall we? The "among others" concerned him a bit though. What "other" Points were there to harvest?


    However, there was still one message pending:


    <u>Attention!</u>


    Because the first action you took after entering Arkadia was to start drinking, you have been gifted with the Perk: Alcoholic (Slight)! From now on, you have to drink three portions of alcohol in one sitting, or five portions on different days! Get wasted!


    ¡°Oh, you mo¡­.ing shi...d of a...¡±


    Let¡¯s just say, Prof¡¯s previous mother tongue was much more suited to swearing than English, and Prof was quite proficient in it (swearing, that is). After five minutes of imaginative genealogy and descriptions of abilities, Prof calmed down again.


    The Administrator was certainly NOT a nice guy! Prof even read that pile of Rule Book, was smart about reinventing himself, and the first thing that happens in Arkadia is to make him an alcoholic!


    ¡°Baaaaaa?¡±


    And he was still lucky. Prof couldn''t even imagine how many things one could do with a strategically placed sheep outside of everyone else''s view. And what kind of "Gift" that very nice guy Administrator would deign to allocate to any tricked individual? Obviously, there were not only achievements on Arkadia, but consequences too. Prof had to be very careful what and how he did in the future!


    It was also time to decide, what he should do, at least in the short term.


    Since there was a village already within easy walking distance, it made the most sense to start there ¨C to get familiar with the new rules, do the local "beginner" quests, learn as much from the Locals, find out where the next town, city, and dungeon was, what kind of animals and monsters would he most likely face. Prof calculated that after about a month he will set out for the next town anyway ¨C since his knowledge about Arkadia was limited, there was no need to plan further.


    What happened after that was anybody''s guess.


    Sooner or later Prof will need to get money, his leftover money would not keep up forever. Speaking of money, Prof checked his pouch, and yes, the nondescript "System Coins" were changed to the usual medieval ones. On one side of the silver pieces there were the coat-of-arms of Wanderberg ¨C thank you, [Heraldry] ¨C on the other side the (probably) idealized portrait of King Endre, Second of His Name. The copper pieces had the coat-of-arms and the four mountain peaks symbolizing the four Bergian Kingdoms ¨C actually, there were currently only three of them because of some historical mix-up of territories and those being occupied by different folks. Thank you, [History].


    For the Bergians the Four Kingdoms, or rather the old unified Bergian Kingdom was sacred, and on the political to-do list for the last couple of centuries. Thank you, [History], again, and thank you [Culture: Bergian] and [Politics]. It is amazing how many useless titbits one accumulates if the Skill Level is high enough. Prof wasn''t so sure if he was interested in the dynastical fuck-up that lead to the breaking up of the old kingdom, but he still knew it.


    Thanks, System.


    The iron bit stayed as a nondescript System Coin for some reason.


    He avoided the peacefully grazing four-legged trap and set out for the village. As soon as he reached the field, the Locals paused the¡­ agricultural stuff they were doing to watch the stranger. Prof knew theoretically ¨C despite being a city guy ¨C that fruits and vegetables weren''t grown in the supermarket and agriculture was a bit more complicated than driving out the young plants to the fields in the spring and hunting the mature specimens down in the fall, but practically he had no clue, what you had to do to grain to make it grow.


    Probably water it, or there was the thingy with manure and other agricultural actions. Yay, [Agriculture] at 13%! If he hadn''t had [Herbology] on a higher level, he wouldn''t even know, the Locals were doing something to grain.


    Oh, those picturesque medieval settlements!


    Shacks with patched walls, roads that haven''t even heard about pavement, but are in an intimate relationship with ankle-deep mud even in the middle of summer, the refuse piles at the back of each garden, and because of the absence of canalization the overwhelming, ehmmm¡­ rural¡­ smells!


    You probably saw pictures of some really nice medieval villages that are part of the world''s cultural heritage. Those are the few settlements the locals had any attachment to and weren''t big or important enough to not get burned down, shot to pieces, or carpet-bombed into ruins.


    The village Prof arrived at wasn¡¯t one of those. Rather it was of the former kind, where Locals will burn it to the ground in a few centuries'' time to restart with a clean slate. Or just move the village a few hundred meters to give Archaeologists in the future work and let them puzzle about some finds.


    Next to the village entrance there sat the welcoming committee. You know the old folks that are sitting all day in front of a house or bar, or in a park, reminiscing about The Good Old Times when they still made real cars and that didn''t look like electric shavers when politics was for gentlemen when the youngsters knew how to behave, the train was always on time, the country still had an army and a real king. Do you know the type? No? Go visit a park in good weather, there should be dozens around.


    Well, the committee ¨C let''s be nice and call them a committee and not old folks sitting around ¨C was made up of half a dozen men, sitting beneath a huge willow, watching Prof intently. Fortunately for Prof, he was aided by [Etiquette] and [Culture: Bergian], but also some common sense (no, greeting an unknown elder gentleman with "Yo, old-timer, wazzup?" is not polite), so he managed to give the proper Bergian salute (right hand on the heart, palm facing inwards, four fingers showing) and be polite.


    The last one was never wrong to be applied.


    Especially when you arrive somewhere you know nothing about. Or talk to figures of authority. Including your girlfriend''s dad who is a retired tank commander. Well, you got the point: be polite, or someone may take offense and gives you some physical tutoring.


    ¡°Greetings, Sirs. I just arrived in the surroundings, could you perhaps give me some directions?¡±

 Chapter 2: Gooood Mooorning, Arkaaaadia! Part 2

    A slightly younger old-timer stood up from one of the benches with some grunting and loud cracking of joints, pulled a spear out of the ground, and walked up to Prof. From so near Prof noticed a patch with an unknown coat-of-arms on the left sleeve.


    Oh, an Official!


    ¡°Welcome to Smallgrovewell" The official hadn''t used that name, but the Bergian word composition of Small, Grove, and Well. In Bergian it sounded better. Thank you [Speech: Bergian] for even giving the meaning of the names of places! "I''m the captain of the guard of the noble house of Jotabor, Bela. Who are you and what is your purpose here? Sir."


    ¡°My name is Hegyesi Ferenc, but everyone calls me Prof" He introduced himself. Prof doubted that the "Captain of the Guard" had more than one or two subordinates, the place didn''t look all that wealthy. He almost pitied the old soldier, but then remembered something important: everyone on Arkadia can level, and even common folks reach Level 6 around the age of thirty. Since he was obviously some kind of soldier and even more obviously old, the Captain, Sir, had to be at least Level 15, probably even more.


    Meaning, he would probably be able to mop up the muddy wallow they called the Main Street with Prof, without breaking a sweat. While asleep.


    ¡°My purpose here is to ask around if there is some work I could do, and ask for directions to nearby villages, towns, and interesting places. Captain, Sir"


    The old captain took a good look at Prof then turned to the other pensioners with some unspoken question. The most ancient finally gave a small nod. Bela turned back to Prof.


    ¡°You spoke well and haven''t even forgotten about courtesy, Kid. It''s not that common nowadays. I can''t give you any tasks, that''s in the power of the Lady. You see the manor over there? You can talk to her there."


    Prof didn¡¯t forget to thank the Captain for the pointers, said his goodbyes to the Welcoming Committee, and took his leave.


    The manor was situated on the other side of the village, on a small, low, but quite a steep outcropping ¨C it included a one-story wood-framed house, built on strong-looking stone foundations, a few wooden annexes on the yard and a low log wall, or rather a tall fence. The whole compound was in stark contrast to the village, it was clean (as far medieval standards went) without a refuse pile anywhere in sight, flower boxes in the windows, and even a flower bed at the side with a few stone benches.


    Whoever made their home there took every effort not to live out in the boonies ¨C despite living out in the boonies. Prof wandered into the manor through the open gates and was greeted immediately by a stern-looking armed woman in a well-made dark green dress. She wasn''t your classical beauty, but was not a willendorfer Venus either ¨C all in all, she was quite average but had a cute upturned nose. Prof took her for about thirty.


    ¡°Who are you, and what are you doing here?" Snapped the woman. From the clothing, the sword, and the behavior Prof pegged her as the Lady of the Manor. In contrast to Lady Jotabor, he didn''t forget his manners.


    ¡°Greetings, milady. My name is Hegyesi Ferenc, and Captain Bela told me to talk to you about quests or tasks. I also hope to find some lodgings here."


    ¡°Ah, a dressed-up hobo wants to enter into my employ! Why do you think, I have use for one of your like?"


    Prof expected a somewhat warmer welcome and not such an open contempt. He completely forgot, that he is just a parvenu ¨C it didn''t take long for the Perk to rear its head. He had no better idea, but to still try to argue politely in his favor. He even bowed.


    ¡°Milady, there are always dangerous or hard tasks to accomplish, where it would make more sense to risk a stranger and not your own people. And, of course, I would pay for the lodgings. Of course, it is in milady¡¯s purview to decide if my services are needed.¡±


    ¡°It is clear, it''s my decision since I''m the Lady here! Right, let''s see what you can do besides talking fancy! There is a Dire Wolf in the forests to the West that sometimes preys on my sheep. Bring me its head and you can stay! You have two days!"


    ¡°As you wish, milady.¡± Prof bowed and took his leave.


    The whole situation was not to his liking. First, he had to humiliate himself, and second, he just got a dangerous quest where his only reward would be that he was not thrown out. But, to be fair, he was just an armed stranger asking to be let into the house. It was only natural, that he would need to raise his acceptance! Wait a minute! He definitely remembered, that there were Perks in the Rule Book that made you be liked more!


    That hinted at a reputation system being in place ¨C and probably it even worked with¡­ Points¡­ Prof could maybe... harvest! Not so terribly bad after all.


    Since he had no clue, where in the "Western Forest" he could find that terrible animal, two days'' time wasn''t much. This wasn''t some computer game, where the stuff you needed to find was indicated by the classical X on the minimap, but hard reality. (Prof had some recollections about seeing Perks in the list that in fact did so ¨C talk cheat powers) Since he wasn''t going to get help from the System then he would do it manually! It was time for another chat with the old warrior. Luckily the captain was still sitting beneath the willow, talking to the Old Men''s Club.


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    ¡°Captain Bela, Sir! Do you have a few minutes for me?¡± After the captain motioned for Prof to come closer, he continued


    ¡°Lady Jotabor tasked me to hunt down the Dire Wolf in the Western Forest. Unfortunately, I''m new here and don''t know about either the Western Forests or the usual haunts of the wolf. Who could help me out with that?"


    ¡°Heh, so you need to kill Spots, Kid? It was time someone had the guts to do it! Not that he caused so much damage, but you can not allow an animal like that near a village! Unfortunately, there are only three of us with high enough Levels and weapon Skills to tackle it easily. That being the Lady herself, my son, and me. If adventurers would even come here, they still demand a too-high price. I would say, you should talk with Kendrik, the Lady''s ranger. He probably could help you find Spots, but if he does, it would be your responsibility the ensure his safety. Do you understand, Kid?"


    Prof thanked him for the advice and promised to look out for the ranger. He also noted, that he was exploited, real adventurers wanted money (probably a lot of it) and here he was, doing the hunting for free.


    He really hoped, there really was a reputation system, and it really operated on Points. Let¡¯s see who exploits whom! As it transpired, Kendrik lived on the edge of the village with his wife, the village¡¯s medicine woman in a log cabin, but was due only in the evening.


    At the time Prof arrived, only the wife, Hajni, was present. As for her looks, Prof could only use the word "plump". She was nice enough to let Prof wait on the porch but rejected his advances to help her. Prof spent his time reading his Character Sheet, making plans for his next level-up ¨C his discussions with the Lady made it clear to him that he needed [Etiquette] and [Convincing] above 100% as fast as possible ¨C and he thought about how to make money. Hajni was kind enough to give Prof some porridge-like food for lunch, which he reciprocated by offering up one pair of sausages. It wasn''t an even trade, but the thought was what mattered.


    They started chatting afterward, and Prof learned that Hajni was Kendrik''s second wife (the first passed away a few years before), she was thirty-five and neither she nor Kendrik was originally from here. Smallgrovewell was located at the western edge of the kingdom while the Western Forest was theoretically already part of the next country, that is the Elven Domain (but where the exact border was, was a mystery for the Locals) ¨C luckily the Bergians and the Elves got along well in the last generations (meaning the Bergians left the elves alone and the Elves kept to themselves), and the Elves were shut-ins ¨C so the life in the village was quite peaceful.


    Not counting the occasional wild animal, monster, or troublemaker, but those were mostly dealt with by the Lady (Prof found out, her name was Ilona), Captain Bela, or his son ¨C who by the way, was his only subordinate ¨C Little Bela.


    According to Hajni, the next village was Pinehill (yeah, that also sounded better in Bergian) about eight kilometers due East, and the nearest town, Gaborh''s Castle ¨C from the description it was rather a larger marketplace and not a real town ¨C about twenty kilometers in the East over of Pinehill.


    According to Hajni, there was not much to learn in the village. She herself concentrated on healing herbs; Prof probably could learn Skills in connection to hunting and the forest from her husband; Old Bela was good in weapon Skills and a few inhabitants were passable in handcrafts. If you discounted digging dirt and raising animals.


    Which Prof did, without remorse.


    Right before dusk, a man in green clothes and a bow on his back showed up, whom Prof assumed was Kendrik, the Lady''s ranger. To judge from his sharp features, lithe body, and slightly pointed ears one of his ancestors was probably an Elf. Either that or a lot of his ancestors were very closely related over multiple generations.


    Or maybe both.


    You have to remember that in medieval times the genetic pool in little villages out in the boonies was a bit shallow. Shallow as in even a mouse doesn''t need a snorkel to wade through it. Prof hurried up to meet him half ways to the porch.


    ¡°Good evening, Master Kendrik¡± Prof gave the Bergian Salute before offering a hand-shake ¡°My name is Prof, and I wanted to talk to you.¡±


    ¡°First is dinner, second is talk. Come on!¡±


    The ranger had an interesting accent, much like if he tried to sing while speaking and used more diphthongs than Bergian words had. Prof couldn''t place it ¨C probably his [Speech: Bergian] wasn¡¯t high enough, or the Skill didn¡¯t include knowledge in placing accents ¨C so he just shrugged and followed the ranger into the house.


    The cozy interior was dominated by drying herbs, pelts, and parts of animals, from bones to bottled internal organs, claws to testicles (the last one Prof didn''t want to know why they were there. Probably the same reason rhino-horns were so sought after).


    Dinner was composed of the usual unidentifiable medieval porridge but this time with a stew made of some unknown wild bird (but was probably seasoned chicken) and a horrible home-brew beer. No micro-breweries back then. Before drinking individualistic stuff to set you apart from the masses got trendy, humans were just trying to put some alcohol in liquids so no one got the runs from drinking bad water. Do you remember the issue with medieval canalization? Good. Connect the dots.


    So, if you wanted a good beer, you went to the multinational companies, i.e. the monasteries.


    But, back on topic.


    That particular beer was probably made by filling up a horse with the rejects of a bad brewery and catching the run-out in a barrel. It still was, however, recognized as "beer" (i.e. alcohol) so Prof could check one portion of his mandatory weekly allotment out. Not that he enjoyed it. He probably needed to find some quality¡­ passable¡­ drinkable booze in the future.


    After dinner was done, Kendrik sat back in his roughly hewn chair and looked at our hero.


    ¡°All right, Prof. What did you want to talk about?¡±

 Chapter 2: Gooood Mooorning, Arkaaaadia! Part 3

    ¡°Lady Ilona tasked me to hunt down the Dire Wolf in the Western Forest, but unfortunately I know neither the region nor where to find the wolf. Captain Bela said, maybe you could help me out."


    ¡°Heh, the Lady finally found a dupe to do the work?" grinned Kendrik "Years ago I made a bet with Old Bela about what would happen sooner: Spots dying of old age or the Lady finding someone to hunt him down. I think, I just won that bet. Thank you for that. How much time do you have?"


    ¡°Two days, originally, but since I got the task around noon, I have only one and a half left.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm¡­ With a bit of Luck and a lot of work, it is doable. Spots live around half a day''s walk from here, so if we hurry up and don''t have to search a lot, we can do it."


    ¡°That means, you will help me, Master Kendrik?¡±


    ¡°Find him, yes, fight him, no. And not for free.¡±


    Prof already suspected that no one will follow him into danger just by asking nicely ¨C especially since the Captain told him plainly, there are not many in the village with a high enough Level of Skills


    ¡°My offer is this: I get every part of Spots, save for the head and I keep a third of everything else we find. Since you are still a stranger to the village, one-third of your loot goes to the Lady, so you can keep a third of everything else. I do warn you, I will fight only to defend myself. Deal?"


    Of course, there would be taxes! 33% at that! What happened to the oppressive, undemocratic, feudalistic tax system where you paid one-tenth to the Church and one-ninth to your overlord, making your taxes an impoverishing 21% of what you earned, or the absolutely democratic and fair and reasonable modern system, where you had to leave only around two-thirds of your earnings in some government agency''s pockets?


    Be it as it be, Prof didn''t have much of a choice: either the deal, pay his taxes like every normal hard-working person, or he had to walk away and try his Luck in the next village over. And start anew. They shook hands on the deal.


    ¡°Right! We will set out tomorrow before dawn! I suspect, you don¡¯t have lodgings yet, so you can sleep here on the ground. Tomorrow, bring only the necessary, we will have to push it a bit!¡±


    Prof thanked them for to possibility to sleep inside and not being forced to enter vagrant territory under some bushes. And he realized, he didn''t buy a tent. Before turning in, Prof reorganized his stuff: it was unnecessary to bring his spare cloth and most of his personal effects for the hunt so he stuffed them, his reserve hatchet and the rope into his sack. He planned to bring only his food, bedrolls, and his first aid kit (containing the bandages and health potions). With a bit of organization, everything could have been placed into his messenger bag, onto his belt, or back, but he decided to bring his backpack too, just in case there was more loot.


    It couldn¡¯t be said that Prof slept well, but better than he feared. Obviously sleeping on the floor or out in the wilderness gets only annoying with higher age, and Prof was only twenty-two.


    Again.


    Thinking back, he did sleep basically everywhere after a long night''s party at University, but the need to have a proper bed arose years later. Well, he also couldn''t drink that much anymore.


    Kendrik woke him well before dawn and motioned to the table, where milk and bread awaited Prof. Breakfast. No meat, no vegetables, no tea ¨C and thank all the Gods and Administrators ¨C no coffee. He abhorred that abhorrently abhorrent stuff. Well, if you are living in medieval times, do as the medieval folks do. Prof wolfed down the not-so buffet style no-so all-inclusive not-so continental breakfast quickly, washed even more quickly (who would have thought that you got only cold water in Medieval Fun-Time World?) geared up, and met Kendrik outside. Yeah, so much about not getting up early anymore¡­


    ¡°We will start with the fastest pace we can manage¡± Kendrik warned him ¡°As soon as we enter the forest, we will slow down a bit, but will keep it up till Spot''s lair. If we don¡¯t find him there, I will try to track him, and we hope for the best. On the way back we will need to run anyway to get back in time. Are you ready?¡±


    Prof just gave a nod. They ran to the forest''s edge ¨C Prof had a stance regarding running in his previous life: if someone wants to do it, don''t stand in their way. A familiar Doctor said to him, that he should only run when someone else is shooting at him, giving out stuff for free or his lover''s husband is chasing him. Since the Doctor was over eighty and in perfect health and fought on the Eastern Front, that should mean something regarding health tips. That the Doctor did the fighting as a radioman in a Tiger Tank didn''t change the core of his wisdom.


    In light of this doctor-induced stance, he was surprised at how well he could keep up (here and there he even almost overtook the ranger) ¨C probably all thanks to his new Stats. How would you translate eighteen in Agility to Earth-Standard? World-class athlete? Sure, the technique wasn¡¯t there (he remembered some Perks that made running even faster) but the raw Stat was enough. Reaching the forests they took back a bit on the speed but even so they followed the trails in a strong jog. Prof really was thankful for the ranger¡¯s help, he could''ve probably made it this far, but a lot slower ¨C assuming he knew where to go. After about two hours after setting out, Kendrik stopped beneath a huge oak.


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    ¡°Spots'' lair is about two kilometers away, from now on we should be careful. We will rest here a bit and then continue."


    Prof drank a few sips of water and started to climb the tree. As he suspected, his Mental Map''s¡­ mapping function was practically useless in the woods, only the trails got some color. Reaching the top of the tree, he took a good look around ¨C deep forest all around, some scattered hills, and in the West a mountain range. He estimated the range as being about twenty kilometers away, and about five hundred meters high for the highest peaks.


    Prof was happy that the surroundings got color on his map, and even the range appeared. At least as vague contours.


    A few minutes after they continued on their way, they reached a clearing where Kendik took his time to examine the prints. Prof tried to copy him and make sense of the prints, upturned earth, and broken or flattened plants, but realized, his Skill is too low. He mostly recognized, what he should look at, but the clues didn''t mean anything to him.


    ¡°What did you find, Master Kendrik¡± Prof asked finally.


    ¡°Spots was here one or two days ago, there a fox got a rabbit, and over there bucks visited.¡±


    Prof didn''t know how high Kendrik''s Level in the related Skills was, but he doubted they were below 200%. Prof didn''t find it necessary to have such a high level in [Tracking] or [Wilderness Survival] or [Hunting]) but realized, his current level was not enough to make it in the wilderness. He didn''t need to know where rabbits did what rabbits usually did, but tracking something edible sounded like a good thing to know.


    He decided that after completing the task he would try to get an apprenticeship with Kendrik, at least for a short time. Every bit helped, and if someone taught you a Skill, all the better. Almost free stuff was almost free stuff after all.


    In the next hour the pair slowly made their way towards the point where, according to the ranger, the Dire Wolf had its lair. Kendrik stopped often to check prints and clues, listened to rustling, or disappeared into the bushes. That last point was interesting to Prof: he knew where the ranger should be, but couldn''t see him till the ranger finished being stealthy. After that, he couldn''t tell why he couldn¡¯t see him, because he was just there. Almost like a Spec-Ops Sniper back on Earth. You see the bushes and grass and stuff and then are surprised that bushes and grass and stuff could shoot you from two kilometers in the head.


    Despite all the caution, they were surprised when entering a small glade they found themselves eye to eye with Spots.


    Obviously, the Dire Wolf wasn''t counting on a business meeting either, since he just finished marking a tree ¨C not something you do when you try to ambush someone. The wolf and Kendrik reacted at the same time, the ranger sprinted in the direction of a large tree, and the animal (or monster? Prof needed to get a definition of what was considered what yet) started to growl at and went after Prof. He had only time enough to dump his backpack and draw his axes before Spots started to circle him.


    Prof stood his ground and followed the wolf with his eyes while taking stock of his enemy. The wolf has huge, reaching to Prof''s chest, and the maw was filled with nasty-looking five to ten centimeters long fangs Prof also realized, why everyone called it "Spots": after the black spots on its reddish-brown pelt.


    The wolf got bored of the circling first and tried to overwhelm the puny Human with a huge leap.


    Prof dodged in the last second and took a swing with his left (smaller) axe ¨C neither move was conscious, the absolute and objective measurement expressed in his Skills provided the muscle memory of how and when to do things. Muscle memory he didn''t have a day ago! The System was awesome!


    Turning an average pencil pusher into a martial arts master just by assigning a few points! Of course, he wasn''t (yet) a master and hadn''t spent just a "few" points, but to receive the equivalent of multiple years of hard training so fast, was still awesome. What could really dedicated and proficient folks do? Chuck No¡­ no, if he got systemed, the System would just assign an infinite number to his Skills (all of them) without further ado and go into retirement. That¡¯s how good he was. You know: on a scale of one to ten, you can do no better than five, your boss is proficient at around eight, and the gods would be ten. He would get a round hundred.


    Sorry for the tangent.


    So, the wolf tried to pounce Prof, but he could dodge with his awesome new superpowers of Not Getting Hit and tried to counter-attack. The last one wasn''t successful. Landing next to Prof the wolf tried to sweep his legs with its front paw, but luckily for Prof, equally unsuccessfully. Prof was sure, if he got to the ground, the fight would be a very short and very bloody one ¨C the bloody part being provided with him. With his own blood. He did, what everyone with two axes and a Skill of 150% in [Axes] would have done.


    No, not running away.


    He countered, counter counter-attacked with both his weapons, feigned with his right, and did the real attack with his left. Both attacks missed, and the wolf danced away. At least Kendrik gave some encouraging words.


    ¡°Watch out! Level ten Elite!¡±

 Chapter 2: Gooood Mooorning, Arkaaaadia! Part 4

    That was less helpful than you probably think.


    First of all, Prof didn''t have a clue, what Elite meant (probably NOT being decorated with every possible medal in your own army and a few of allied ones for long service and prowess on the battlefield), secondly even if the wolf was a Level 500 raid boss, at the moment Prof didn''t have much choice but to power through or die trying. And finally, he already was "watching out" for the obvious reason that he didn''t want to end up as a chew toy for an oversized lapdog.


    Prof at least concluded, that if Level 10 Elite had any connection to how Earth RPGs measured power, he was in for a tough fight.


    What he already knew.


    The next few minutes were spent with attacks, counter-attacks, counters to counter-attacks, and basic grinding. Prof was able to hit the wolf a few times, but he also bled from a few scratches ¨C he already lost a quarter of his starting 81 HP. Luckily, none of the hits the wolf landed were critical.


    Also, if Prof hadn''t spent most of his money on his nice armor, he would have made a trip to the modern and well-kept waiting room of Afterlife Inc. to have a nice chat with the paragon of customer service there.


    Prof realized that he had to stop Spot''s jumping around, and time was against him. He was reasonably sure that a "Level 10 Elite" had a bit more HP than him, so he had to deal much more damage than receiving himself. With "normal" attacks neither could be achieved, so Prof started to fight as he planned from the beginning: through Critical Hits. He concentrated his attacks on the legs of his enemy, and "invoked" the desire to do critical damage.


    He didn''t know, how and what that did, but obviously it was a conscious process. Without the intent, you still could be lucky and deal tremendous damage, but with the intent and "invoking" the possibility, the chance grew exponentially. A minute later Prof''s HP reached the halfway mark, but finally, he could land that important hit.


    The strike almost severed the wolf''s left rear leg, only a few tendons kept it in place. Prof grinned maniacally and concentrated from now on on the other hind leg. The difference was telling, with only three legs Spots'' evasion wasn''t so good anymore and not long after Prof managed to break the other hind leg too ¨C unfortunately at the same time the Dire Wolf managed to land one of the "freak" Critical Hits too.


    It locked its jaw on Prof''s left forearm.


    The enormous fangs gritted on the metal plates and his HP hit 10% immediately. Prof started to get dizzy, his vision got blurry, and panic started to rise. He started to hit the wolf with his right (larger) axe without any plan or thought. After a sudden pull, Prof fell to the ground. He discarded his weapon and with his last strength tried to crawl backward, all the while pulling out one of his potions from the bag. With four HP remaining, a stray weasel could have killed him, not to mention a ticked-off mutant wolf.


    After downing the potion and still not having a meeting with a receptionist rejected from a crypt, he started to calm down. After his vision cleared up a bit, he took stock of the battlefield. The severed head of the Dire Wolf was a few meters from him (probably detached while he was hacking away in panic... khmm... made a tactical retreat), and not far from that quest drop lay the rest of the wolf ¨C decorated with quite a few arrows.


    Prof hoped there was no far-green activist on Arkadia that would start a campaign against his obvious actions of animal abuse and against eating meat or no forestry agency to jail him for poaching¡­


    No, in fact, the local government gave him the license to hunt a wolf, and the forestry agency directed him to this spot, so he was safe from that corner.


    Probably.


    Of course, he bribed the forestry agency for the directions, so he maybe was clear there too.


    After no activist showed up, realizing, he had the official backing of the local government (not that that meant much), and the issue being self-defense in the first place (look, it''s better to be in the clear legally if you visit a different country with strange customs), he checked himself too. His wounds started to close slowly, thanks to the potion, but his left bracer was in a bad shape, with a huge fang lodged in the leather.


    Prof poked it out and put it next to the Iron Bit-System Coin ¨C he had the idea to make a Lucky Charm out of them. No matter, if it really was lucky, the thought was what counted. Like the charms most soldiers had in the last big war: at least you had something to believe in that got you through the FLAK.


    Prof cleaned his wounds with some water and bandaged the big one on his forearm. Either his 58% in [First Aid] was enough, or he was just Lucky. And another Skill he had to rise to around 100% to be content¡­ Diversification was the thing on Arkadia. If you neglected most of the Skills ¨C being content to able to barely function ¨C it was your funeral. Literally. He was curious, about how long it would take to heal the wounds ¨C back on Earth it probably would take a few weeks.


    In the meantime, Kendrik also showed up grinning. Based on the arrows in the carcass, he took part in the battle despite his earlier warning. Prof was sure he owed his life to the ranger, without his help the wolf would have probably overwhelmed him.


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    ¡°I leveled up, my friend!" he patted Prof on his back "At my age and Level it''s not an everyday thing! I owe you a big thank you!"


    ¡°Oh, no, Master Kendrik, it¡¯s me who owes you! If you hadn¡¯t intervened, I would surely be dead!¡±


    ¡°Spots was dead anyway, the only question was if you survived. It was a very close call!"


    Kendrik collected his arrows and started to dress the defeated wolf. With practiced ease, he skinned it, cut off its claws and fangs, put the meat and internal organs into a pile, and even cleaned a few of the bones. While Prof observed him, he remembered something.


    ¡°Master Kendrik, I have a question. You warned me that Spots is a Level 10 Elite ¨C how did you know?¡±


    ¡°Hmmm? That was the Skill [Observe], if you have it at a high enough Level, you will be able to figure out the target''s Level, battle prowess, health, and maybe even the Stats and Perks. Of course, depending on your and his Level. Strange that you asked, I thought this was common knowledge!"


    Prof thought this Skill was a very important one to have but was surprised that he hadn''t picked on it earlier.


    He even read that Rule Book, after all!


    He figured out earlier that if he concentrated on a Skill on his sheet, detailed information was provided on a separate parchment, so he searched for [Observe] and concentrated. No wonder, he didn¡¯t pick up on the Skill earlier, the description was vague, and if he didn¡¯t know what it did, he would have figured, its main aim was just to provide information on things, and what they were. Prof was sure he could tell that piece of metal was a sword without the Skill¡¯s help, but if the Skill worked like Identify or Appraisal in RPG, that was a whole other business!


    He wondered, how many Skills had different or extra effects than what was written in the Rule Book or on the sheet. He was certain, the Locals figured out a lot of secrets and collected even more information on the System in the past few millennia. He absolutely had to find a library!


    ¡°That was good information, thank you! I do have another question, Master Kendrik: I understand the meat and the pelt, and maybe even a few of the organs, but why are you collecting the claws, fangs, and bones?"


    ¡°Almost everything has use in alchemy. Hajni can use a lot of these parts directly, and the rest we can sell for good money in Gaborh''s Castle."


    That was also good to know. Also another Skill, no, multiple ones to learn in the future better. [Skinning] and [Dressing], maybe a bit of [Alchemy], [Animal Lore], and [Monster Lore]. His head started to hurt.


    Soooo many Skills to learn, so few Skill Points! 110 Skill Points per Level seemed a lot in the beginning, but now Prof wasn''t so sure anymore. Of course, no normal person would come to the idea of rising a few hundred Skills to around 100%, there would be simply no need for a city-dweller to learn how to hunt or track, or for a day worker to learn about science. For most people, the starting value for Skills (that is around 30-50%) would be more than enough.


    Even for adventurers, there was simply no need to have more than maybe a dozen Skills above 100%, but Prof was so new to the whole System, he couldn''t tell objectively how high a Skill Level was and how many Skills he needed. It was clearly written in the Rule Book that around 50% was enough for everyday functions, but the deluge of information was still overwhelming and seeing a professional do things raised some inferiority in Prof.


    He stamped down the feeling, afraid of being "gifted" with a Perk again. Then he stamped down on his paranoia too. To have a boost to his ego, he checked the haul with his [Valuation] Skill, just to get a feeling for the prices on Arkadia. In the current state, the pelt was around two silvers, the meat a bit more, but for the claws and bones Prof only got a vague feeling of "more than nothing, less than ten silvers".


    While Prof was musing about Skills and prices Kendrik finished dressing the hunt, put the haul away, and started walking in the direction of the village. Prof stopped him.


    ¡°Master Kendrik, how far is the lair from here?¡±


    ¡°Around five hundred meters. Why?¡±


    ¡°We have a lot of time, and it''s not far. Maybe something is interesting there, or maybe even something we could sell. It''s worth checking out."


    ¡°Good thinking! You are right, there could be some valuables lying around. At least we would be sure, there are no other wolfs nearby. Let¡¯s go!¡±


    The lair opened in the side of a steep hill, it was obvious that there was a landslide a few years back and it opened up a small cave. The Dire Wolf then found it and made it its new home. On the clearing in front of the cave, there was only a scattering of unidentified bones, which, according to Kendrik had no use or value whatsoever.


    Prof lit his candle and started his delve into the mysterious and extremely dangerous cave of the wolf. The dirt of the short entrance gave way to stone after a couple of meters ¨C in the dim candlelight Prof didn''t realize, that the stone was not natural but hewn, so he was surprised when he found himself in a small, maybe three by three meters, chamber. The floor was covered with dirt and twigs, while on the wall he could barely make out indistinct remains of carvings.


    Prof had the impression that they told a story, but couldn¡¯t make sense of it, neither who was depicted nor what it tried to convey. While looking around, Prof had the urge to dig around in the dirt on the floor. Maybe his [Looting] Skill or Scavenger Perk tried to tell him something. As it transpired, the dirt was around thirty centimeters deep.


    Prof didn''t feel like playing archaeologist and digging through two cubic meters of dirt in the vague hope to find something valuable, so he just rummaged a bit. He only found a few bones (according to Kendrik, possibly Human ones), a handful of ancient copper coins, some rusted through unidentified pieces of iron, a beautiful bronze ring, and part of a silver chain.


    His valuation of the whole pile informed him, that he struck the jackpot and found stuff worth fifty coppers. The copper coins he found were not current denominations, so the value was exactly zero ¨C but he hoped he could find a collector and sell it that way. He expected more¡­


    It was time to return to Smallgrovewell.

 Chapter 2: Gooood Mooorning, Arkaaaadia! Part 5

    Before heading back, Prof climbed a large tree on top of the hill for geographical reasons.


    Every little detail on his mental map was welcome, the climbing rewarded him with parts of a creek and a lake on the map. Since they didn''t expect another predator and Kendrik also didn''t want to hunt on the way back, they started running. Prof again blessed his Luck that he was able to enlist the ranger''s help, and they completed the one-day journey by noon. On his own Prof wouldn''t have been able to do so, and couldn''t even have found the Dire Wolf. He had still a day left, but on his own, he probably would have been searching for the next week.


    As soon as they reached the village, he washed and cleaned his clothes as much as he could. Who would have thought, that washing clothes were governed by the Skill [Housekeeping]? Certainly not Prof.


    Have you ever had the misfortune to get your underpants pink, despite NOT washing them with anything vaguely pink or red? Prof was lucky, though, he just managed to make his clothes wet, but the dirt and blood stayed on them. Probably he needed detergent, soap, and a washing machine, to at least have a chance to wash his stuff and make it not-pink. He saw two possibilities: first, raise his [Housekeeping] to a higher level and buy washing stuff, or secondly, pay someone to do the cleaning.


    After a long deliberation of two seconds, he opted for the second. He was ready to head for Lady Jotabor when Hajni informed him that lunch was ready. Prof was the type that could be bribed with a good lunch or dinner (or here in Medievalia with any food) so he postponed his meeting with the feudal lord (Feudal Lady? Noble? Noble Lady) immediately. Lunch was the usual porridge this time with boiled vegetables.


    Prof considered how many porridges one could eat before it became boring and how long would it take for him to hate even the smell. He hoped, someone discovered at least the secret of pottage or better yet, how to roast a chicken on an open fire. Prof needed to learn how to cook (his [Cooking] Skill was at 58%) fast, or find a more civilized place where "food" had more variety than porridge. After lunch, while drinking the sub-standard piss they called beer there ¨C yes, he definitely needed to find a more civilized place! - Kendrik turned to him.


    ¡°My friend, we will hold the Leveling Up Celebration in a few days, I hope you will come! If you hadn¡¯t approached me with the hunt for Spots, it would possibly have taken years! We have to celebrate!¡±


    ¡°Leveling Up Celebration?¡± Prof had an inkling, what that was. It was in the name, after all! ¡°So, you celebrate leveling up here, Master Kendrik? Where I come from, we didn¡¯t do it.¡± Of course not, since nobody leveled up on Earth.


    ¡°That''s strange. I thought everyone on Fenria has such a celebration! We commoners don''t level up as fast as soldiers, adventurers, or nobles so each and every one is a significant event, the higher the level, the more significant! And please just call me Kendrik, I''m no one''s master!"


    They shook hands on being on a first-name basis ¨C being polite is well and good, but after a time it gets tiresome and offensive after all. Obviously, helping the ranger level up let Prof harvest enough¡­ reputation points?... to make Kendrik level up to the next¡­ reputation level? Prof was a bit annoyed, that there was no mention of the points.


    After a short after-lunch rest Prof took the wolf''s head and started his walk to the mansion. At the entrance to the village, he greeted the old people sitting there and reported his success to Captain Bela ¨C although it was not him that gave the task (and sent him into certain death), Prof felt it was always good to be on the right side of the law enforcement. That, and letting the old warrior feel important ¨C both had nothing to do with the fact, that Old Bela could beat up mortality migrants as Prof was without much effort. The Captain clapped Prof on his back and escorted him to the mansion.


    ¡°I heard, Kendrik leveled up!" Never underestimate information spread in a small village! Light speed is probably just crawling around in a parking lot looking for a parking space in comparison. "Although I lost the bet, I owe you thanks. After a while leveling up is just so rare, Kendrik almost gave up his next. It is very important in small villages as ours to have a few higher leveled individuals!"


    ¡°About that, Captain, I do have a question. I haven''t found any information about how far the next level is, how much EXP I get for this and that, and how much is awarded for completing a task or quest. No one explained it to me yet. I would have thought that defeating a higher level monster with such a low level as I am would grant me a Level."


    ¡°You have to come from a strange place, indeed¡± the old soldier scratched his neck


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    ¡°However, it is true that no one knows why, when, and how we level up. It''s a mystery. An old friend of mine had the theory that it is not important what and how many you defeat, or what and how much you do, but why and how. For example Spots. If you just hunted him down for sport, you probably wouldn''t have moved forward to your next Level, but if you would have saved someone from immediate danger, it would mean much more. But this is just a theory among many. It may be true, or it may be wrong. Others say you get EXP only for tasks and quests, but not for killing things. Or leveling up is a divine gift, no one has any influence on it just the Heavenly Game Master. There is only one thing, everyone agrees on: we don''t know how much EXP we need for the next Level on purpose."


    The first theory would have explained a few things to Prof. The Dire Wolf was disturbing to the village, but did not present an immediate danger to anyone ¨C so Prof killed it without good reason (but not for sport), but Kendrik saved a person in direct life danger, namely Prof. Of course, they went out of their way to be in mortal danger in the first place¡­


    The essence of the theory would be that farming ¨C not digging around the dirt, but massacring animals and monsters indiscriminately ¨C was out for an easy level-up, and the best way was to help people in mortal danger. If farming was the key, the Locals surely would have figured it out thousands of years ago, and there would be not even a stray cat left on Arkadia. Prof could agree with farming not being an easy way, in a lot of games he played he felt it almost be a cheat.


    Not seeing the progress to the next level was a bit harder to understand, but could be explained as the other side of the coin: if you knew how much EXP that cat gave you, you would have a validation to start farming. That, or Arkadia''s master was just an asshole.


    Arriving at the mansion it was Bela who knocked on the door and gave a crisp report to the lady. Prof let him, simply so the captain could feel important, and since that annoying parvenu-perk. It was better to deal with someone else with upper-class twats in Prof''s opinion. At least so long he wasn''t an upper-class twat himself, and have people to deal with plebeians who wanted something from him. After the report was made, Lady Jotabor turned to Prof.


    ¡°What you promised, you delivered. I gracefully allow you to remain in my village and deal with tasks here. You can rent the serf¡¯s quarters for two silvers a month, food, I assume you are proficient enough to provide for yourself.¡±


    ¡°As you wish, my lady." Prof didn''t want to thank the obnoxious woman but didn''t forget politeness either. "Master Kendrik told me, one-third of the loot is yours." Prof took the impressive loot out of his pocket. Lady Jotabor just looked at it and waved Prof away.


    ¡°I don¡¯t need trash like this, you can keep it!¡±


    ¡°As you wish, my lady." Prof had enough of the Lady. Two silvers for a serf''s quarters without food was probably exorbitant (and calling his hard-fought-for loot trash ¨C although it was trash ¨C wasn''t nice either), but as far as he found out, there wasn''t much in the way of quarters in the village. Maybe a barn or another or somewhere on the ground.


    Yay, capitalism, and monopoly!


    If you need something of a limited commodity, the sole provider could set the price ¨C take it or leave it. Prof took it.


    As it transpired, the serf''s quarters was a three by three meters shack made of boards and leaning against the wall or fence. The only furniture was a three-legged chair and a small desk, but Bela promised to get him some straw so he could make a bed for himself. Prof wondered, why there was a tavern in every last hamlet with comfortable beds in every story he read, and why he had to provide his own bed for an overcharged hole. Probably this was the way back then in medieval times ¨C if you were a stranger in a new place, you could sleep in the gutter.


    After the lodging was sorted out, Prof started to help himself level up a bit.


    ¡°Captain, Sir, could you help me out with the tasks in the village?¡±


    ¡°Let''s seeeee¡­ There isn''t much, really, mostly gathering plants and firewood from the forest, sometimes an animal gets lost and needs finding. Oh, and probably Hajni and Kendrik would be grateful for some help. And, if you want, you can help my son in his patrols, he has too large a territory to cover on his own."


    That was about what Prof feared to have in a small village out of nowhere. Basic fetch quests, and a bit of reputation-building stuff for the authorities, so nothing much to write home about. Prof already planned to take an apprenticeship with Kendrik, and would so probably spend some time in the woods, so fetching stuff from there was obvious. But patrolling seemed to take up a lot of time and time away from strolling through nice forests elsewhere. Just to be sure, he asked the head of security.


    ¡°Captain, Sir, I would like to help out with the patrols, but I planned to join Kendrik as an apprentice, and I don¡¯t think the two would go well together.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that''s no problem at all! Someone needs to check the Western Border too, there are a few farms and coal burners out there, and my son can only visit them every other week. If you can take a look around there every other day, that would be a huge help. We can''t pay much, but I can give you two coppers and dinner for each day you do patrols. What do you say?"


    The payment wasn''t much, but at least Prof had dinner checked for every other day ¨C and he was certain, he could harvest a lot of reputation points from Old Bela. Assuming, reputation points were really a thing.


    ¡°I think, I can manage that. You have a new recruit, Captain!¡±

 Chapter 2: Gooood Mooorning, Arkaaaadia! Part 6

    He received a rough map, sketched it onto a piece of parchment, and got directions, on which points he needed to visit.


    If he had to patrol the whole circuit, it would have taken around ten to twelve hours, but since he only needed to check on them every other day, he could finish in four. That was manageable. After he received his orders, he returned to the ranger¡¯s house.


    ¡°Kendrik! It''s good you are still home! The Lady didn''t want anything from the loot, so I thought I give everything to you, hopefully, you can do something with it."


    ¡°Thank you, Prof, but I already feel bad. I got everything from Spots and even leveled up, and you got nothing. Keep the stuff! Maybe you will find a girl someday and can present her with the ring. Straight out of a big bad Dire Wolf''s lair! How proud she will be! But don''t forget to make a few copies first! Hahaha!"


    ¡°Oh, Kendrik, don¡¯t be such a leech!¡± interjected Hajni ¡°Prof is not like that! He is just so polite and nice!¡±


    ¡°Yes, of course! He needs the copies only for the case he lost the original¡± Kendrik winked at Prof.


    ¡°Kendrik, there was something else I wanted to talk about." Prof steered the conversation away from his non-existent love life. "I will stay at least a month here in the village, and I realized, I''m not really proficient in [Wilderness Survival] and [Tracking]. Just to name a few. Would it be possible for me to take a brief apprenticeship with you for a month?"


    ¡°Hmmm¡­ What do you want to learn?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m interested in [Tracking] above else, and a bit of [Wilderness Survival]. [Hunting] maybe [Fishing] wouldn¡¯t be bad either, but I wager I would need to know how to use a bow, but my Skill in [Bows] is really low. Maybe a bit of [Skinning] and [Dressing]?¡±


    ¡°Killing your prey is just a part of [Hunting], knowing where and when you can kill the game is as important, as it is to know which one is edible in the first place. To skin and dress the kill is somewhat part of the [Hunting] Skill, the separate ones just give better results and can be used to, well skin and dress rarer animals and monsters. [Tracking], Wilderness Survival], and [Hunting] build on each other in some way, so I can teach you all three to about the same level. However, my [Teaching] Skill isn''t that high, so the points you will get in one month will not be that terribly high."


    Since it was about points, Prof was pretty sure, he could harvest some extra ones. Even if not, every last little bit helped, and he had nothing better to do anyway.


    ¡°It¡¯s all right, Kendrik! When do we start?¡±


    ¡°Right now? I wasn''t planning on doing anything else today. Tomorrow evening we will have the celebration, so till then I will give you some orientation, and the day after we go into the woods."


    ¡°That¡¯s fine by me! Thank you!¡±


    The next day was spent with lectures about the common animals around Smallgrovewell and in Wanderberg. Prof learned a bit about boars, stags, deers, rabbits, and weasels, but also about wolfs, bears, and large cats. He was told, what plants were edible, which ones he should steer clear of (there was even one with honey-sweet fruit that turned you into a tree), and where to find drinking water and grubs to eat.


    Prof felt like he was watching the show of a famous survivalist on TV ¨C eat this, drink that, DON''T go near that, build your fire this way, your shelter that way. There were parts he already knew thanks to his Skills, but it was nevertheless interesting to hear it from a professional. Not that Kendrik was a terribly good teacher, but he often went off tangents, repeated previous details, and jumped from topic to topic. Sometimes he just told a few stories or bantered a bit with Prof.


    All in all, it was time well spent. It transpired, that Kendrik was an easy-going and friendly fellow, who moved to Smallgrovewell at the invitation of Lady Ilona''s father. They knew each other previously because of some old story, involving a boar, a deer, a weasel, and a bar (Prof couldn''t make a rhyme of the story, though).


    On the evening of the celebration Prof dressed in his dark green pants and shirt, put his hat on his head, his cape on his back, and went to meet Kendrik. He left his armor and weapons at home ¨C that is, in his rented shack ¨C but after some deliberations took his knife with him.


    Just to be sure.


    The ranger and Hajni were both dressed in their better (or best?) clothes and they set out together to the village square. You probably imagine a cobbled square-shaped square with flower beds, benches, artfully groomed Botanics, and maybe even a fountain with an allegorical figure fountaining water out of orifices. Well, think again. We are talking about a tiny medieval village on the border of a kingdom, not a tourist trap in modern Italy!


    At least the square was almost square shaped ¨C if looked at it from a certain point, while drunk, and didn''t know what shape a square should have. There were no cobbles, just dirt (and a bit of¡­ let''s call it mud next to the ditches), no flower beds, and no groomed green stuff, just another old willow, and some bushes, strategically placed next to the ditches. Since the village didn''t have running water, there was no fountain ¨C and probably even the Lady didn''t have enough money to commission an allegorical figure with or without orifices ¨C but there were at least benches.


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    Brought out of the houses with almost matching tables.


    ¡°Matching¡± meaning in this context: made of heavy wood, and having no decorations whatsoever. It seemed like the whole village was there, dressed in their best clothes, and even the Lady making an appearance, and there was even food on the tables. Real food, not just porridge.


    Someone (probably the Lady, there were no other "wealthy" people in the village as far Prof could tell) even provided a largish pig that was roasting in the middle of the square on a spit. Prof felt like being an actor in an advertisement for a "rural" and "classical" and "original" village festival (entry fee 10,- EUR, food, drinks, and souvenirs not included), but there was real food there! He found out earlier, that the food and drinks were for free ¨C if you didn''t bring anything, you had to at least help, or make a voluntary donation to the village.


    Since Prof didn''t have any spare food and was occupied with Kendrik''s lessons, so been unable to help out, he ended up making the donation. It turned out, he was the only one doing so, so he donated half a silver. Better not to be viewed as skimpy or as a freeloader.


    After a short time mingling and everyone arriving ¨C save for Little Bela who was out patrolling or doing things a deputy does ¨C the Lady gave a short speech about honoring every level up, and how important it was for the village and the common good to strive for more levels and congratulating Uncle Kendrik for his eleventh one. Prof was taken aback. Uncle? Level eleven? He found Kendrik afterward and posted a few questions.


    ¡°I told you, I was friends with her father, no? I know Lady Ilona since she was eight, so no surprise, she calls me uncle still! Ha! As for the levels? Heh, I wasn¡¯t always a ranger in a small village! I did some adventuring in my younger days. You know, Old Bence ¨C Ilona¡¯s father ¨C brought a few interesting figures here! Old Bela was an adventurer too ¨C guess his level!¡±


    ¡°Ehmm¡­ Fifteen?¡±


    ¡°Nice try, Prof, but no. Sufficient to say, he''s the highest leveled one in the village, but there are others with interesting backgrounds and surprising levels here. Most are just happy with anonymity, so don''t pry. You have been probably told already, but be careful with unknown people, especially if you don''t have your [Observe] Skill at a high enough level. You never know who a beggar on the side of the street is or was. Even with a good [Observe], some Skills and Perks can make an observation tricky. With you being still Level 2, you should be careful!"


    Prof didn''t remember telling Kendrik about his Level, but the ranger had quite a high level in [Observe] since he could read the Dire Wolf, so didn''t think of it further. He chatted for a while with the ranger and his wife, when they were interrupted by a man in his late thirties. The interrupter was of medium height with a bit of excess fat on his ribs, and a bit better clothed than the average villager.


    ¡°Hey, Kendrik! Congratulations! And this should be our newest addition to our little village, yes? My name is Horka, I''m the cook for the Lady, and I heard you are looking for tasks to complete, yes? I do have one for you! Sorry, for that, Kendrik, my friend, but I need to diversify my sources, you understand? So, I need special ingredients to cook for the Lady and level myself. Kendrik here sometimes brings good stuff, oh, the Dire Wolf parts were good, my friend, but the more I get, the better. If more people look for good foodstuff, the better, yes? So, my deal is this: for every portion of above-average ingredient you bring me, I will pay one copper, and for every five, I throw in a good meal. What do you say?"


    ¡°I would recommend accepting the deal¡± Kendrik interjected ¡°The pay is not that good, because Horka here is a cheap bastard, but he is the best cook I have ever met. He could open a tavern everywhere in a big city, and get customers and fame in no time, but...¡±


    ¡°Slow down, Kendrik! That is none of his business. Say, one and a half coppers for each portion, and you don¡¯t ask any further questions¡±


    ¡°Deal!" One task logged, a myriad to go! Of course, you would ask, what a "portion of food" was, right? Prof would have no clue in his previous life, but with his Skills and cultural awareness, he had the answer ready: for main dishes, one portion equaled the amount a normal-sized dish could be prepared from. That is, around one-sixth of a kilogram of meat (that is a bit more than a third of a pound for you using that strange imperial measurement) or two chicken eggs or some vegetables or fruit, and so forth.


    Did you see a kitchen from the inside? You got the idea.


    For spices, it was a bit more tricky, but the small bags of spices you buy in the supermarket are around a dozen portions.


    ¡°Good! I heard, Sag, the Lady¡¯s steward has a few tasks in mind too, you should check him out! Have a nice evening, my friends!¡±


    Prof did, as was suggested, and there was an avalanche of possible tasks after that. Everyone knew someone who had some bothersome task to complete, but there were some that Prof was loath to do. Basically, everything in conjunction with agriculture, digging dirt or caring for animals. At the end of the evening, he had marked three other quests in his notebook:


    1, Get two tons of firewood for Sag, the steward. Payment: one silver


    2, Kill rats crawling in the village granaries for Sag, the steward. Payment: Five coppers and lunch for a week for thirty rats


    3, Collect one hundred kilograms of forest fruits for Aunty Nelli, operating the village distillery. Payment: Fifty coppers and ten meals.


    Neither of the tasks was interesting or really hard, but they had two very important advantages: first, he could do them while in the forest, and secondly, it solved his food issue at least partially. He planned the first month as a trial, and the main part he stayed in Smallgrovewell was the lessons Kendrik provided. Everything other was just a bonus.


    Prof set out for his new life.

 Chapter 3: Grinding for Levels. Or for food. Part 1

    In the next month, Prof formed a routine: before dawn, he met up with Kendrik, who tried to teach him the secrets of how to survive in the wilderness, how to track and how to hunt, while Prof collected firewood, forest fruits and tried to find special ingredients. The last one was the hardest, in one month he managed to find only ten portions worth of mushrooms, eggs, and plants ¨C as he found out, one good, quality meal raised his HP by 10% for eight hours.


    According to Horka, the really good high-quality food had even better effects, and the cook even heard of meals that doubled HP for a day, gave resistance to fire and gave a bonus to Agility, and gave almost complete immunity to poisons.


    Of course, the price of one such meal was astronomical ¨C provided, you found a cook with a high enough Skill and could provide the ingredients. Prof thought that with these effects luxury food at least made some sense, besides snobs with too much money on their hands being able to say, they tried it.


    In the afternoons'' Prof did his patrols (while collecting firewood and stuff), and took care of other tasks he stumbled on. As he found out, Little Bela had no time to take care of the farmers'' and coal burners'' problems, so Prof had a lucrative side business going on. Well, not really lucrative, since the payment consisted mostly of food, a few meals a few iron bits here and there, but at least some of his clients helped him collect the stuff he needed.


    Most of the quest consisted of courier work or gathering, but on one farm he was tasked with killing a calf-sized mix of a pig and a rat ¨C with the imaginative name of Pigrat. Prof could harvest only two portions of special food from it (next to twenty kilos of normal or poor quality meat) but was certain, he could have made more of it if he had better Skills. With his current Skill Levels, even the hide was mostly useless.


    In the evenings he practiced processing herbs and brewing potions. Hajni told him early on, that the potency of potions (or poisons) depended on the quality of the ingredients and the "concentration". The worse the quality of the ingredients was the harder it was to brew a more concentrated potion, but it was harder to make diluted ones from better ingredients.


    One needed a higher Skill Level for using better ingredients and brewing more concentrated potions. Or, in Prof''s reading, the Skill Level told you in absolute and impartial ways, how much of a chance you had to use the ingredients and brew the potions. If you didn''t have the skill (and so the Skill Level by extension), you had a high chance to waste the ingredients.


    That Prof learned that at his own expense. Hajni gave him a few better ingredients for experimentation, but because of his lacking knowledge, the result was a useless blob of uselessness. Prof''s Skill in [Alchemy] was just enough to make a Tasty Potion of Getting Drunk Fast by mixing booze and fruit juice (Trademarked, obviously no one in the village had the idea to mix basically good booze with basically good juice), and make some rudimentary teas that sped up the healing rate marginally, disinfect wounds (but booze could do that too, and you even could drink it) or were somewhat good against common illnesses.


    During his experimentations, Prof managed to waste a lot of bad quality ingredients and to brew around one liter of 2 HP-health potions. Since a potion was around five centiliters of liquid (that is a shot of booze) one liter was enough for¡­ a lot of low-quality, barely useful portions. He poured his creation into a water skin he received for one of the tasks and even got a small wooden cup from the village. In a fight, that solution would of course be useless, but there were no glass vials for sale.


    He was told, the nearest place he maybe could buy some was in Gaborh''s Castle, but the price was steep even there. Prof didn''t feel it necessary to travel to the marketplace just to buy overpriced vials for his sub-standard concoction, so he kept the water skin.


    The rest of his time was spent reading. As he found out ¨C mostly from Sag, the steward ¨C the printing press was invented already, but important documents were still written by hand. For some System-related rules, only handwritten documents could be validated by the mana imprint of the scribe, but not printed ones. Writings about magic or Skills kept their potency only in handwritten form. Or something like that, Prof wasn''t particularly interested.


    Also, the overwhelming majority of the populace was literate, mainly to be able to read the Status Screen (or more exactly, the Status Parchments), although allegedly there was a voiced version too. Still, even with the printing press being a thing and most being literate, there weren''t many books in the village ¨C at least ones Prof could borrow. These were:


    Who is Who in Wanderberg, Volume 5, Along-the-Forest Shire, Part 1. It was a summary of status, genealogy, and coat of arms for a part of the nobles in this corner of the Kingdom


    Brief History of Wanderberg. Unfortunately, it was in a bad shape, with about a third of the book missing or unreadable.


    Bergian-Elven Conversational Dictionary.


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    An untitled fragment of a political treatise dealing with the neighboring countries. Next to Wanderberg, there were Felseberg to the North and Spieleberg to the South, and the Halitchian Empire to the East. There were hints about a large country further to the North and countries to the South, but the fragment ended right there.


    The Famous Deeds of Gregorious the Great. That one was interesting to read. It was a story of a famous troublemaker and his killings, robberies, acts of animal abuse, and so forth. So, the average story of an adventurer, but well written and informative in many ways. Obviously, adventurers were if not accepted, at least tolerated everywhere, if they didn''t rock the boat and tried to act within the law.


    The Life of Blian, about a philosopher and the school of thought he invented. It mostly consisted of leaving me alone, and I will leave you alone. No need to get into my face.


    He also found a map of Wanderberg, two calendars, and a decade-old catalog of a trading guild. And a few books with a selection of poems. And a romance.


    From his readings, it became clear (or better to say: clearer) that Wanderberg was an unimportant little Kingdom wedged between the Elven Domain and the Halitchian Empire and its continued survival was because it made an alliance with equally unimportant Kingdoms and if they found themselves in dire straits the Elves and a few other species and countries intervened in a timely manner.


    Not openly, mind you, but suddenly some mercenary bands became available for cheap money, a disgraced prince showed up with his private army and a few mysterious deaths happened on the Halitchian side. Luckily, the Halitchians were mostly tied up with some unspecified problems further East and Southeast, but from the sparse information Prof had, it was not clear, what it was. He needed more information than was available in a small village on the border and out in the boonies.


    Those poor folks back then when the ¡®Net wasn¡¯t yet around! Waiting for some caravan to bring the newspapers (of course, carved into stone slabs, since those primitives didn¡¯t have smartphones, and paper is only made for the toilet) to find out belatedly that gravity was invented.


    From discussions with Kendrik and Old Bela, he found out, that there were indeed dungeons on Arkadia. They had the usual, well-known attributes: they had a basic theme, they repopulated after a time, had a "boss" at the end, and gave fairly consistent loot. Because of all the attributes a lot of people and organizations viewed them as a way to make money or as training grounds, and a few even gave out extremely interesting loot.


    Prof couldn''t nail the two others what this "interesting loot" was, but he got the feeling it was either valuable or rare (and so valuable). The Locals ¨C at least in Smallgrovewell ¨C agreed, that the dungeons were there to forcefully exclude the stupid, greedy, and asocial elements from the gene pool. Prof could empathize with the idea, but it was a well-known fact, that it was not the strongest dragon who reproduced the most, but the least choosy.


    According to the Captain, it was commonly accepted the dungeons did not help you level, but since no one knew how much EXP one needed for the next Level and how much EXP you got for this and that, the question generated some debate. Prof though, it would be easy to confirm: take a group and let them do only dungeon runs, and take another group and let them only do mundane task-solving, and wait for who leveled first.


    He had a suspicion, that someone ¨C or multiple someones ¨C already had this idea, and did the testing, but the results weren''t shared with no-name guard captains of a no-name village out in the boonies of a no-name little kingdom. The Locals lived with the System for tens of thousands of years, for the Administrator''s sake!


    Prof at least had the possibility to experiment. Not far from the village there was a dungeon (a crypt with undead), that, according to Old Bela was basically useless for the common folks. The undead''s level was way too high for the loot the dungeon provided ¨C including some rusty weapons and armor it didn''t even reach ten silvers after taxes ¨C and the undead was notoriously hard to fight. You needed critical hits to damage them, and most people didn''t bother with those. Prof wouldn''t have bothered fighting half-a-dozen Level 5 undead with a Level 7 Boss if his contacts didn''t point out an interesting detail, which he had forgotten since his time in the Afterlife.


    Prof created his ¡°character¡± but the populace of Arkadia was born into their Stats, Skills, and Perks. Sure, there was a possibility to adjust them when you got your System Screen at the age of sixteen, but Prof did everything from scratch supported by his RPG knowledge on Earth. He didn''t consider what the average spread of Stats should be, or what an average Stat was. With his Intelligence of 18 he was way above the average citizen (yes, the average was around ten, maybe a bit lower) and with his other Stats, he was probably the life form that had the highest average of Agility, Dexterity and Intelligence currently on Arkadia.


    Even most Adventurers would have been left in the dust. Since Skill Points per Level were tied to Intelligence (if Prof remembered correctly, Intelligence by four plus two) Prof''s 110 ¨C including his Perks ¨C were double the amount of a commoner and one and a half times that of an average adventurer. Prof also forgot that if someone lives his life in a world and doesn''t just fall from the sky with a pre-generated character, the Local will spend some Skill Points on secondary or tertiary Skills (or just Skills they fancy).


    Although Prof''s character wasn''t your run-of-the-mill asocial murderhobo born and raised in a cave and min-maxed into over-specialisation (and so being absolutely unviable) he was under-leveled for his age but overskilled for his Level ¨C if one only took a look at his fighting Skills. The Captain had the opinion if he only looked at those, Prof would be around Level 4 or 5. Kendrik seconded this view. Since the undead could only be damaged with Critical Hits, Prof''s Perks and fighting style made him perfect to perform a manual exorcism. Prof still had some doubts and postponed his dungeon run until the last moment.

 Chapter 3: Grinding for Levels. Or for food. Part 2

    With a few days left of the month, he decided he needed to give the dungeon a try. With his four Silvers and a handful of pocket change, he wouldn''t get far, and it was a mystery where else he could find some coins. Fortunately, he could leave the dungeon at any moment and the monsters couldn''t follow him outside, so he concluded he could take a look and if it wasn''t going well, he would tactically reposition himself. Meaning, he would get the hell out.


    He completed every task in the village already and was left with nothing to do for the last couple of days. He checked his Character Parchment to look over his gains. From the books he gained around twenty points for a few Skills ¨C half of them to [Heraldry] ¨C and even learned the basics of the Elven language.


    On the level of "I would like to have a beer, thank you". His training with Kendrik was more profitable, netting him 22% to [Wilderness Survival], [Tracking], and [Hunting] each, making them sit at a comfortable but still quite low 72%. Last but not least, his tinkering and brewing attempts gave him 16% to [Herbology] and [Alchemy] each, bringing them up to around 70%.


    Before setting out to the dungeon he packed his gear: a couple of torches, the rest of his potions and bandages, and after some thinking, he took his pocket knife too. He planned to leave everything else in his room. According to the Captain, the layout was nothing fancy: five consecutive rooms without traps and further embellishments, so Prof didn''t need rope. Since most of the loot consisted of cheap but bulky rusty stuff, he had to bring his sack and backpack too but planned to leave them at the entrance.


    His reasoning was to complete the run and then loot everything that wasn''t nailed down ¨C dungeons on Arkadia obviously only reset after leaving, so the drops stayed till the end. At least in the smaller dungeons, Bela and Kendrik visited. In games and books, looting seemed easy, but in real life, it was a hassle to fight with a bundle of armor pieces bound onto your back.


    Fortunately, Horka still owed him a good meal, and although plus 10% HP ¨C that is 8 Points ¨C wasn''t much, everyone in Central Europe knew that a free 10% from something was good. That didn''t mean that one picked up discarded stuff from the roadside, but Prof worked for those +10% HP for eight hours.


    The dungeon was located to the South of the village, deep in the forest ¨C finding it was easy though, for Prof explored partway already, and the directions he got from Old Bela and Kendrik were easy to follow from there on. The small, flattened hills started to grow steeper and numerous the nearer Prof got to the dungeon, and he even had to avoid deep ravines and cliffs here and there. Prof opted for the shorter route to the dungeon, he kept the longer one ¨C that was more scenic, following a creek ¨C for the way back.


    In the last month, he kept his promise to map as large a territory as possible, so he climbed a few trees on hills to take a view and add color to his map. Thanks to his high Agility he was faster strolling than his running speed back on Earth ¨C not that he ever ran there ¨C and so managed to complete the hike that would have taken half a day on Earth in less than two hours. Even while stopping to climb trees.


    The dungeon (or crypt) was located on a picturesque clearing on the side of a medium-sized hill. On one side of the clearing, an enormous willow hang its branches into a quiet little brook, with ivy-clad trees (probably oaks, maybe a few maple and chestnut, Prof wasn''t that interested in the species) on the other side, while on the upper side a small ruin artfully blended into the hill. Prof was reminded of Greco-Roman architecture somewhat, but the creeper plants covering the ruin made it hard to come to a final verdict.


    From the whole idyllic picture only well-clad gentlemen and ladies were missing, and every classicist painter from Earth would have gotten multiple¡­ wet times¡­ from the chance to paint it. Prof regretted it the first time that nobody invented the camera on Arkadia yet, and that he couldn''t even make a screenshot. Prof liked to travel back on Earth, and here he had a completely new world, where he didn''t need to put up with hordes of ill-mannered hobby migrants ¨C and he had no way to capture the sight.


    He promised himself to spend a complete Level worth of Skill Points on [Art: Drawing] or [Art: Painting] and start practicing. As soon as his other important Skills got to a workable level and he made a bit of money. So definitely soon. Soonish. Sometimes not far in the future. Hopefully. Probably.


    He sighed deeply, and climbed up to the ruin, avoiding the artfully placed ruined pieces of walls and statues ¨C now, every classicist garden architect would get a few¡­ wet times ¨C and finally entered the building. It was built like a mausoleum, with a few sculptures next to the wall and a sarcophagus at the back ¨C the last one was the entry point for the dungeon proper.


    If Prof didn''t know he was at the entrance of a dungeon and didn''t try to¡­ play archaeologist¡­ with the sarcophagus and found the stairs down, he would have assumed, he just entered a "normal" mausoleum out in the woods. Probably the Locals had the means to find new dungeons that were more sophisticated than someone getting lost, and entering a cave on chance. Assuming, new dungeons were popping up. Neither Old Bela nor Kendrik knew anything about that.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Prof lit one of his torches and descended the two stories worth of a narrow spiral staircase, to find himself in a small room, barely large enough for three people. On the opposite side of the staircase lay the real entrance to the dungeon, a stone door that took up the whole side of the room. Prof took hold of the doorknob (it was just a rusty iron ring, but doorknob sounded nicer) and pushed the door open.


    The short corridor that greeted him had the perfect atmosphere for a crypt-horror show with alcoves in the wall, rusty torch holders spiderwebs covering everything, and the, well... grave silence.


    Prof put his torch in one of the holders, deposited his bags next to the door, and took his first steps into his first dungeon. His steps echoed eerily in the empty corridor, but soon he reached the first room. It was styled like a small chapel, with rotting pews, statues next to the walls, and a small altar opposite the door. It was a bit dark for Prof''s taste, and he just turned to get his torch, when he noticed movement from the right wall. What he thought was a statue turned out to be the first undead.


    Prof backed into the corridor, drawing his weapons. The undead ¨C a skeleton in tattered cloth, that was probably a banquet for every moth on the continent, and a rusty breastplate and wielding an even more rusty longsword ¨C followed him dutifully and when they reached the middle of the corridor, Prof attacked. Since he could only damage the collection of bones with Critical Hits, he attacked its head directly.


    No need to be fancy, he "activated" the intent and started to rain attacks on the bony''s head. He was again surprised, at how well his muscles remembered things they had not heard of a month ago. His body waved left and right as Prof attacked or blocked the skeleton''s counters or just dodged them ¨C the last was harder in the narrow corridor than against the Dire Wolf or the Pigrat despite the undead having a lower Skill.


    But still easy enough to keep himself undamaged. Together with attacking a critical area (the head), he had around a 50% chance to land a Critical Hit, if the Rule Book was correct.


    The only unknown was if he could manage to hit bonehead''s head in the first place. Judging his previous record, he didn''t know what to expect: against the Dire Wolf he struggled to land a hit, with the rats in the village he haven''t even tried to land critical hits ¨C even a normal hit transformed them from animal to minced meat or a smear on the ground ¨C and the Pigrat was somewhere between the two.


    So he was surprised that after only a few seconds he crushed his enemy¡¯s skull. And its breastbone. And the ribs. The rusty breastplate was almost completely cut in two.


    Prof started to get the feeling, he overdid his Stats, Skills, and Perks. Overdid just a little bit. Maybe. And his shopping. Probably no normal Level 2 person should be able to fight with 150% in a Skill, and should not have the right to do it with such above average gear Prof had (not counting the possibility to get the equivalent of a speed bike from daddy for the sixteenth birthday. In both cases it was not longevity insurance).


    To think further, Lady Jotabor either sent him to certain death against the Dire Wolf or had a high enough [Observe] Skill to know Prof''s numbers. Knowing the Lady, both possibilities were real.


    Prof stepped over the pile of bones and rust, got his torch, and re-entered the chapel. From both sides of it, another corridor led further on, according to the information from Old Bela, both led to slightly larger rooms, with another undead resident. Prof started with the right one (always use the right side!) and planned to retrace to the left one after he dealt with the first one.


    As he found out, the second room was decorated like an ossuary, with morbid sculptures made out of bone on the walls and a bone chandelier (with molten candles, even!) hanging from the ceiling. Add the cobwebs, dark and barely heard sounds, and even Master Giger and Rob Undead would get nightmares ¨C Prof almost got a heart attack when one pile of bones just stood up.


    In contrast to the first anatomical model, this one had a sick green light glowing in its eye sockets, and in place of a breastplate, it wore a rusted full chainmail suit that even came with a nasal helmet.


    As weaponry, it had a rusty (as was obviously the theme) longsword and a barely functioning medium shield. With torch in one hand, Prof tried to re-create his previous tactic, but he realized in short order that he will have more problems with this specimen: the skeleton was faster and could deflect attacks with its shield ¨C no real surprise, shields were invented for this exact reason. After a while Prof gave up on hitting its head, because the few times he got a hit in, the helmet deflected it (do I have to spell out, why helmets were invented?) and concentrated on its weapon hand instead.


    Not much happened for a while, Prof just couldn''t land that Critical Hit. When the arm finally disintegrated, Prof already received some hits himself and started to tire. For a lack of better ideas, he threw his torch into one corner, maneuvered till he could grab the shield, and pushed the skeleton against the wall. Since the sorry excuse for Human remains couldn''t use its speed or shield, Prof could again aim against that permanently attached grin.


    It was easier now, but it looked like this undead had more HP than the last, and Prof needed two flashy hits to send it to the eternal graveyard ¨C or to whatever dungeon monsters had. Probably an eternal respawning pool.


    Prof strolled back to his pack, drank two shots from his homebrewed shitty health potion, ate a few dried fruit, took a short break, and headed for the other corridor.

 Chapter 3: Grinding for Levels. Or for food. Part 3

    This time he threw the torch in and only entered afterward with both weapons in hand. The room was a twin to the other, and so was the skeleton rising from a pile of bones. Prof learned from the previous encounter: first, he transformed the weapon hand into tiny splinters, then blocked the shield with his left axe, pushed his enemy against the wall where he pulverized the head. He finished faster and easier this time.


    After the short battle he again took a very short break ¨C that was more of the "technical" kind, and he wondered why no one took a "technical" break in novels or games ever. Maybe after a certain Level, you don''t need to sleep, eat or use the potty anymore. Potty breaks were inconvenient in dungeons, that was true, with holding a weapon in one hand and a very important body part in the other, he found. Still better than needing to change his pants. But no sleep, no food? That reality sounded more like a certain kind of camp, not something he would have enjoyed.


    He was fairly certain, bodily functions were not affected by Level ¨C both Old Bela and Kendrik needed to eat, sleep and use the potty, so at least for the next dozen or so Levels he was safe. He liked eating and sleeping, after all.


    After due deliberations (and wiping his hands onto his pants) he continued his exploration of the room before the last. That one was quite large, his torch couldn''t even light more than a part of it, and what he could see from the entrance were richly decorated sarcophagi in every size, sculptures next to the walls, and a mosaic with geometrical forms on the floor. Prof didn''t feel like searching in an unlit, dark crypt for piles of bones hiding everywhere, so he put his torch into a holder and knocked his weapons together.


    ¡°Boney, boney! Come-come!" Just to be sure he sent a verbal invitation too. That worked on Earth with cats and dogs perfectly, although he missed a fridge to emphasize his statement further. But does it matter if you are holding the food, or are it?


    Obviously not, since in short order three skeletons shambled into range. Luckily they were of the first, weaker kind, without shields and helmets. Prof started to feel confident in his Skills but was not certain he could defeat three of the stronger type alone. The three grave rejects started to surround him, so he wasted no time and aimed for the skull of the one on the right.


    As he found out, his muscle memory for [Evasion] worked only if he could see his enemies, but if someone got in the back of him ¨C as the leftmost skeleton did ¨C he had to give conscious attention to what was happening (what he was not doing). He paid for tuition this time with 10 HP and was lucky his nice and stylish armor resisted most of the damage.


    He was a bit upset. He even read that damn Rule Book, and there was no mention of how to use the Skill properly, only what it did. With such a generalized description you could have lost a lot of lawsuits in certain countries back on Earth. Don''t put your cat into the microwave! Hot coffee is, in fact, hot! Skills may work in different ways than advertised!


    To vent some of the pent-up frustration he splintered the first boney¡¯s head, and so could also keep the other two in view. He parried a slow strike with his left (he thought, he probably should spend Skill Point on [Blocking] and [Parrying] too, but dismissed the notion almost immediately. He had [Evasion], after all) and started the counter-attack with his right out of reflex ¨C he was surprised that the skeleton in the middle was removed from the Order of Battle with his first hit.


    Since the skeletons obviously didn''t pose that much of a danger to him, he played a bit with the last one. He tried different combinations for attacks and defenses, moves and tactics to finally get a conscious feel of his Skills. It was one thing to have muscle memory or to know to have muscle memory, and a whole other to know what muscle memory was capable of.


    He started to get a bit suspicious of the Rule Book too, there seemed to have been a few facts that were not included in the book, but everyone still knew them. Everyone save for Prof. First he destroyed the right and then the left arm of his target dummy, and at last one of its legs. That was enough to wither away the skeleton¡¯s HP, and it collapsed into a pile of bones.


    After the massacre of innocent entities with a vitality challenge, he went back for his pack and brought it to the sarcophagus room. He intended to start looting there after the defeat of the Boss.


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    He drank a few sips of water and downed three potions from his crappy stash. It didn''t bring him back to maximum, but he reserved the better ones for emergency situations. That was another difference between games and reality: in the former, you just had to push a button, and the potion in the bottom of your pack was magically consumed (or you had a good meal in the middle of a fight¡­).


    In reality, you had to find the potion in your pocket, uncork and drink it ¨C all the while skeletons waved their rusty swords in your face and you did a workout that would cost you your whole salary in a gym. That is, drinking the better potions was still easier than getting his water skin, filling a shot cup with the potion, and then drinking it.


    Prof was curious what the final monster, the Boss would be like. In Earth games, they were stronger than their Level would suggest and they had extra abilities. Prof already knew from the Dire Wolf and the Shield Skeletons ¨C those he suspected being Elites as well ¨C and from his Character Parchment that Arkadia worked on the RPG lines, so he suspected the Boss would be similar to an Earth-RPG Boss too.


    He only hoped it wasn''t a warrior-mage hybrid, those were the most annoying. His sources back in the village hadn''t had anything to say about the Boss, since no one bothered to advance further than the large room, or if they did, didn''t share the findings with others.


    Either because of secrecy or because dead men don¡¯t talk.


    Of course, he stumbled upon a warrior-mage hybrid when he entered the last room. The more than two meters high skeleton ¨C probably it was a skeleton judging by the theme of the dungeon ¨C wore a full plate and the sickly green light from deep inside its helmet shone more brightly when it raised its (rusty) two-handed sword and said something in a grinding and grave voice.


    Prof thought for a second how can it say anything without a voice box ¨C probably magic since without tendons and muscles and stuff you can''t move and the previous skeletons did move ¨C and he had to evade a sickly green beam of energy immediately.


    He had to continue jumping around since the Boss arrived too, and its surprisingly fast attack made sparks fly from the floor. Prof decided to find out how the Boss fought since he already had problems meditating and to end the conflict with the shield skeletons by bashing their heads, so every little thing could be important against the Boss.


    He found out, that after every third melee attack the Boss paused for a second, and cast a beam of energy. After every fifth attack, it paused again and cast an aura onto itself with the same color. Finally, after every fifteenth attack, there was a long pause where after the beam the aura was cast too. Prof waited till the third such a combination, and when the Boss paused, he attacked.


    While the head-boney finished the casting, Prof could land two hits, unfortunately only one did any damage. More important was that because of the one damaging hit the aura spell fizzled, and the energy fled with a detonation. Both of them staggered back and Prof lost 12 HP.


    He had the proof, and his plan worked, but the helmet had too high a damage mitigation for him to crack the skull. But, Prof''s right-hand axe had an attribute he haven''t used yet: the armor-piercing spike. The next time the Boss paused for a spell, Prof did make use of it. The hit was landed but it wasn''t a critical ¨C the Boss finished the Spell and Prof didn''t evade the beam.


    His reward was another 12 Points of damage received. At the third pause, he could prevent the spell ¨C the fizzle only caused sparks this time ¨C and smash the helmet of Mr. Hauptbonef¨¹hrer. Because of the law of numbers, Prof couldn''t evade before the fourth chance and was hit with the huge sword, which caused 22 HP damage despite his cool armor.


    To make it worse, he was hit by the next beam too. He started to be in trouble, with a bit of luck he could have survived another strike from the sword or two beams, so he rather let the next chance pass, and downed one of his better potions. He missed one of the staple functions of Earth games, namely the HP bar above the enemy''s head, without it he couldn''t make a guess how far he was from victory. Or defeat. He was however sure that if the fight dragged on, the untiring undead would win.


    At the next chance, he gambled and attacked the head with both of his weapons with all his might. At least one of the hits was a critical, the spell fizzled, the energy exploded and both of them staggered again. Either the other hit was a critical too, or the explosion pushed it more, but the skeleton didn''t just stagger one or two paces but fell on his butt (or rather butt-bones) with a huge crash.


    By the time Prof collected himself, the crypt-dweller started to cast again ¨C still sitting on the floor. He didn''t lose any time, he attacked the head with both of his axes like hail. No plan, no real aiming, just hitting and hitting. And hitting some more. Finally landed a Critical Hit ¨C he could never figure out afterward if the very last spell fizzled or was cast and the huge explosion was intended.


    Suffice to say, Prof was catapulted against the other wall in a heap. For a few seconds, he concentrated all his Willpower to remain conscious, and at last, unconsciousness lost the battle. Still dizzy, Prof got up and noticed, death wasn''t far ¨C again: he sat at exactly 10 HP. He next surveyed the scattered bones and pieces of the armor of the Boss.


    He had won.

 Chapter 3: Grinding for Levels. Or for food. Part 4

    With only 10 HP left, Prof had no other choice but to drink his last better potion.


    With the dizziness gone he could finally survey the room in detail: the only furniture in it was an extremely over-decorated sarcophagus with bare walls. Such an expensive resting place was common on earth for only the most renowned monarchs or for saints who made a vow of poverty during their lives. Prof crunched his neck and hands, it was time for archaeology!


    Or at least some serious looting.


    According to the Captain, most of the loot came from the weapons and armor of the skeletons, but even so, because of the rust, it was only smelted down. From the sum value of around eleven silvers for everything, collecting trash metal gave around nine ¨C Prof found this ratio suspicious, two silvers worth of stuff was too little for the high difficulty of the average adventurer. Even if the dungeon was "broken" according to Captain Bela.


    Prof had one thing ¨C besides a lot of time ¨C that wasn¡¯t common on Arkadia: 150% in [Looting]. As he accidentally found out, very few raised the Skill to such a level, even 100% was rare, and no one with such a skill level visited Smallgrovewell.


    The Skill''s description said it was used for finding important or random stuff, valuables, hidden stashes, or doors. That was exactly, what Prof was planning to do. With his Scavenger Perk, he was even more confident to find something good.


    First, he scrutinized the room down to the last square centimeter ¨C and found nothing. He started to doubt there was any loot in the room when he spotted a small, strange crack on the inside of the sarcophagus. After some examination he was confident, he found a hidden safe. This was exactly what he was searching for! With the safe found, he only needed to find the opening mechanism! How hard could that be?


    Well, he needed a whole hour to find it: he had to turn a nondescript carving on the outside. The safe opened with a quiet "click" and Prof checked the loot greedily. He was now the proud owner of a thin golden necklace, two silver rings, and a copper badge with the picture of a running¡­ Human (?) depicted on it. The necklace and the rings had a sum value of at least one and a half silver, but the real surprise came, when he tried to evaluate the badge.


    He couldn¡¯t!


    He only got the nagging feeling in the back of his head, that the item was magical, but his Skill didn''t give a return for value. He found his first magical artifact! His only problem was that as far as he could remember the rules, there were three possibilities to identify a magical item: First, a magic user cast an identify-spell on it, second, a theorist with a high magic Skill puzzled the use out, or an utter moron¡­ khmm... a well-informed and adventurous individual used it.


    Prof suspected that other ways existed that the Locals found out, but knew nothing about those. The nearest possibility for an identify he knew of was in the capital of Wanderberg, one week of travel away, and the last one was a bit risky for his taste. If he pinned the badge on himself without due thought, he could have easily contracted some curse or undesirable effect.


    Not unlike a street hooker ¨C you may have a good time for cheap but you get the whole catalog of STDs gratis. Finally, he wrapped it into a piece of moth-ridden cloth and put it into his messenger bag. Before he left the room, he stuffed the Boss'' armor into his sack and after a short deliberation took the sword too.


    Searching the large room took even more time, but it was time well spent, the haul was nice, to say it so. He found the small purse with copper coins the Captain warned him about, but also another one with ten silver, another golden necklace, a silver ring with precious stones set in it, a handful of bronze jewelry, and an above-average quality steel hunting knife.


    Not counting the scrap metal, he was already at 15 silver, and he still had two rooms to go! When he collected the gear of the three skeleton noobs, his eyes stopped on a child-sized sarcophagus, that he already checked. He eyed it for a minute, took a large breath, and checked it again. The effort was rewarded shortly, if he pushed the stone just the right way, it slid away and underneath it, he was presented with a money box made out of iron with a complicated lock. Prof shook the box and could hear stuff jingling inside. Unfortunately, his [Lock-picking] was at an abysmal 36%, so trying to pick the lock was out of the question. He wasn''t ready to smash it open, it was worth a few silvers, so hoping he found someone in the village who could open it, he bagged it unopened.


    In the two flanking rooms he collected the known loot (two silver rings and a handful of coppers) and started to scatter the piles of bones. He could pry a gold tooth out of a skull, found another handful of coppers and some copper and bronze jewelry, a magical ring made out of bone, a comb, lavishly decorated with an animal motif, a copper whistle and finally an ornate but somewhat used looking sword sheath. Baubles worth another 22 Silvers wandered into his bag.


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    In contrast, the first room gave almost nothing to further Prof''s journey to be wealthy ¨C from a hidden box next to the altar a few iron bits and coppers, and from under a collapsed pew a silver-plated bronze statue of a hooded figure. His Skills told him the last one was part of a game set, but nothing more, not even a value.


    To sum up his haul, instead of the promised 11 silver he had stuff in his bags worth around fifty, and in that he didn''t even count the two magical items, the money box, and its contents! Prof was happy. Very happy. Like finding a suitcase in a cupboard happy. A famous star ¨C and generations of archaeologists ¨C would have argued the loot, plundered from a crypt should be put into a museum, but smart grave robbers figured out thousands of years ago, that the value of valuables is that people are willing to give you money for them. If a museum does it, fine, if an oil sheik, that is fine too.


    As soon as Prof left the dungeon, a thought occurred to him: no one knew about the real wealth the dungeon provided but only him. If he told them, the dungeon was truly broken, and there was no other loot in it, just what everyone knew, he would be fine. He didn¡¯t want to stay any further, so selling the excess loot somewhere else would also be safe. The only problem was, if the Locals at least suspected more loot, or did know about more loot, but just didn¡¯t tell him.


    Prof didn''t like taxes ¨C in his opinion, it was just lawful robbery ¨C but the local 10% (as an accepted resident) was still much more agreeable than the rates at home. Not even counting the etceteras the state liked to collect. If the Locals somehow found out he evaded taxes, he would be neck-deep in problems. Four silver didn''t look worth the trouble. After some deliberation, he decided to admit the true loot, pay the taxes, and get done with it.


    Arriving at the brook he cleaned himself up first ¨C there not being much blood but crawling on the floor of an ancient crypt made his clothes collect an enormous amount of dirt. He could only remove a tiny fraction of it and decided to give them to the woman who did his washing. Her rates were good, no need to get stingy after such a haul.


    After cleaning up somewhat, he sat down below the willow and had a hearty meal of dried foodstuff. Well, not hearty, but it was still a nice picnic. With half a day''s work, he collected around five thousand Euros, if the rates Sandy told him were correct ¨C back on Earth, with his average Central European salary he would have had to work for around six months for that kind of money.


    Life was beautiful! While munching away he thought about his new life ¨C back on Earth, he wouldn''t have gotten the idea to fight Dire Wolfs, Pigrats, or Skeletons (partially, because neither existed on Earth anymore) and here, he didn''t even think twice. Did the glaze of civilization wear down so fast, did he lose a lot of "negative Perks" that held him back on Earth, or did the laws and rules of Arkadia influence him?


    Probably a bit of all three ¨C the glazing could wear down on Earth really fast too (see all those riots) and he did remember seeing a few Perks on the list that were geared towards a law-abiding Westerner. Be as it may, Prof didn''t regret choosing this option in the afterlife office. Finally, knowledge could be quantified ¨C impartially and in an absolute matter ¨C progression was visible, the government and the revenue office weren''t breathing down his neck and the whole life wasn''t so hectic anymore.


    If you wanted money, you just had to make a run in a dungeon, and if you didn''t spend everything in a night, that one run set you up for a year. OK, Arkadia did have its own problems, like the missing healthcare net ¨C not that Central Europe could boast about its well-running healthcare system ¨C there was no porn from the ''net ¨C of course, Prof didn¡¯t watch such filth ¨C and there was a larger chance for a Dire Wolf or a Skeleton accidentally strolling by and believing you are lunch.


    One could say that in advanced places like Central Africa that could happen too. Or get eaten by the botany like in Australia. Or feeding a shark while peacefully surfing. OK, Earth was probably not that safe either.


    After finishing his meal and the philosophical excursion (yes, he checked, there was a [Philosophy] Skill) he set out to return to the village ¨C as he planned, on the longer, more scenic way. The brook was picturesque farther from the clearing too, it winded its way between hills and rocks, rushed through rapids, tiny waterfalls, and past fallen trees. Above small ponds and bays, dragonflies and other colorful bugs (Prof had no idea, what they were) danced in the sunlight and the banks were full of radiant flowers of every color.


    Back home, he would have to travel hours to find such a beauty, but even then, he would have to compete with other hobby migrants and wonder about the idiots going into a park and just throwing away their garbage. Here, no one disturbed him. He pushed [Drawing] or [Painting] up a bit on his to-do list. Seeing the undisturbed beauty of the small brook, and having no means to take a picture? That could not stand!


    After about an hour ¨C and he took his time to enjoy the sight, and didn''t rush ¨C he took a break on the bank of a small lake below a cute little waterfall. It was there he had to leave the brook and continue towards the village, so he took advantage of the place to admire nature''s beauty the last time. He was about to leave the lake when he heard groaning from under some bushes.

 Chapter 3: Grinding for Levels. Or for food. Part 5

    Leaving his stuff behind, he drew his weapons ¨C just out of precaution ¨C and took a peek.


    Instead of some young Locals having a good time he found a short woman, laying on her belly, half in the water. She wore obviously quality clothes ¨C brown trousers and a green shirt ¨C but they were torn and bloody, and the left boot was missing altogether. From under her shoulder-length fiery red hair, a pointy ear peeked out ¨C Prof didn''t need his high Intelligence to figure out he found an elf. As would everyone grown up in Western Culture do.


    It¡¯s not that hard to spot pointy ears and draw a parallel to beautiful tree-huggers. What Prof couldn¡¯t figure out, what Elves on Arkadia were like. Back in the village everyone he asked covered the issue up and changed the subject. The only titbit he remembered was that they usually kept to themselves on the other side of the ¡°border¡±.


    Prof put his weapons away and checked the woman for injuries ¨C with a spinal injury the worst he could have done was move the patient. Although his [Medicine] Skill wasn''t too high with only 54% he could rule out a fracture of the spine (hopefully, he wasn''t a doctor, after all) but found a nasty head wound (probably with a concussion), a heavy fracture on the right shin (only the trousers kept it from becoming an open one) and a stab wound on the abdomen (with possible inner bleeding).


    And a lot of bruises and small cuts. The woman obviously tried to bandage the stab wound, that is what kept her alive till now. Beneath the dirt and wounds the woman ¨C or rather girl ¨C was beautiful: sharp lines, delicate nose, big golden eyes, a colorful bird tattooed above her right brow, shapely boobs, flat belly, and thin legs ¨C but still toned enough not to confuse her for a doll. Prof could never tell the age of Humans in his life and had exactly zero experience with Elves, so he tentatively put her around sixteen to eighteen.


    He didn''t waste any more time, and gave a good dose of potion to the girl and, forming a quick decision, even splashed some on the wounds. The potion wasn''t good, to begin with, but every little bit could count in an emergency, so he hoped, he at least sterilized the wound and stabilized the patient. Being done with first aid he looked around for some stick to make a splint ¨C having not much in the way of bandages, he took off his shirt, rinsed it really quick, and bandaged the head- and stab wound.


    Making the splint wasn''t successful the first time ¨C the bones poked through the skin, thanks to his expertise ¨C so he splashed his last two potions on it and tried again. The result wasn''t pretty in any way but was possibly better than leaving the fracture alone. Even with higher regeneration than back on Earth, he was sure, the girl wouldn''t survive without professional medical help ¨C and the only healer Prof knew was Hajni, back in the village. Before setting out, he hid his loot under some bushes. He doubted anyone would come to the pond, but wasn''t prepared to leave his hard-fought loot lying around in the open. Who knew?


    The problem was, in his reckoning he was at least ten to twelve kilometers from the village, so if he ran, it would take about one or one and a half hours, if he walked two to three, and if he tried to make a stretcher to drag the girl through the woods, at least for, but more likely five to six hours. Running back to the village to fetch Hajni and coming back was out for the obvious time it would take.


    Since back on Earth injured people were transported with an ambulance and not on public transport, he figured speed was more important than the seemingly higher comfort of a DIY stretcher. Fortunately, the girl was light like a feather, so Prof could lift her without issue and could still run with a good speed ¨C the problem was rather how he could carry her without one of the wounds getting worse or a body part not catching on some flora growing haphazardly and unregulated everywhere.


    The distance to Hajni''s and Kendrik''s home took ultimately around two hours, he had to bypass too many bushes, hills, scrags, and thick patches of woods. Despite his best effort, the stab wound started bleeding halfway to the healer, and when he arrived it looked really bad.


    ¡°Hajni! Emergency customer incoming!¡± He shouted from the gate. Hajni opened the door with eyes large as saucers and directed them to the bad.


    ¡°Prof, where did you find an Elf? Furthermore, a Red Elf?!? What did you do to her?!?¡±


    ¡°Me? Nothing! I found her not far from the dungeon half-dead! I gave her my last potions, but I¡¯m not good at healing to do much more! And what is a Red Elf?¡±


    ¡°This could be a problem¡­ Let me look at her! Prof, get out of my way! Come back in a few hours, then I can tell you if I can save her. And don¡¯t forget, the bill will be yours to pay!¡±


    Prof decided completely on his own that he could not help Hajni and would be in her way, so he left the building, refreshed himself a bit, got a new shirt, and ran back to retrieve his loot. If he calculated correctly, he could be back before dusk, pay his taxes and check on the girl. He was curious how she ended up in such a state, and he fancied her a bit too. She was a bit too young for his taste ¨C not that he was so much older with his brand new twenty-two years ¨C but even at home, it was legal to have a relationship with sixteen-to-eighteen years old.


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    Arkadia probably didn''t have such legal limitations. Of course, since she was an Elf, she could have been easily a hundred. Was it gerontophilia if she looked like a teen or pedophilia if she was over a hundred? OK, moving on.


    Unburdened Prof was faster on the way to his stash and without the need to look out for the wounded Elf, the way back to the village also took less time ¨C there and back he could manage in a bit over two hours. Before reporting to his landlady, he washed, and changed clothing ¨C it didn''t befit to make a visit to the local tax office sweaty and dirty.


    ¡°My Lady, I checked the dungeon in the woods, and I have good news.¡±


    ¡°What good news? That you survived? Or that you found a Red and brought her back to my demesne?¡± The Lady obviously wasn¡¯t thrilled to have to play host to an Elf.


    ¡°My Lady is right, the good news is that I survived the dungeon." Somehow Prof managed the sentence without it being sarcastic "The Elf I couldn''t let bleed out into the lake not far from the village. What I really meant with the good news is that the dungeon has more loot than anyone knew."


    ¡°More valuables? Let¡¯s see!¡± Lady Jotabor got over the issue with the Elf real fast. At least for now. Prof really started to get curious why everyone seemed to have a problem with a ¡°Red¡± Elf, and how they could tell she was a ¡°Red¡± to begin with. But, questions for later. First, Prof unloaded everything, down to the last iron bit onto the desk in two heaps.


    ¡°This heap contains everything I was told to look out for" He pointed first to one then to the other heap. "And this I found hidden. There are a few items I couldn''t evaluate, but for the rest, I estimate around fifty silvers." Prof pushed the two magic rings and the money box separate from the pile.


    ¡°Sag, get Torda, maybe he can do something with this lock" the Lady ordered his steward. "Fifty silvers is about right, the most valuable piece is that sheath for about twenty. The two rings we will not be able the identify here, and there are a lot of cautionary tales about not messing around with unknown magical items, so I won''t give them to one of my serfs. I will count them as five silvers a piece."


    Prof would have said as much himself, so he nodded to the Lady.


    ¡°My Lady, I have a proposition. My Lady is entitled to six silver for the part we can put a value to, and the sheath we both value at twenty silvers. My Lady would have a larger use of it than me, so I would propose to sell it to My Lady for thirteen pieces and my obligation would be met."


    ¡°Including the box?¡±


    ¡°Yes, My Lady, no matter what is in it.¡±


    ¡°You have a deal, adventurer!¡±


    Prof handed the sheath over and started to put the rest of the loot back into his bags. His eyes wandered over to the pile of rusty armor and weapons ¨C it would be good to get rid of them too.


    ¡°My Lady, would you be interested in procuring the iron too?¡±


    ¡°That you should discuss with Sag. Ah, and here is Torda!¡±


    Prof turned to the door, where, behind the steward a scarred man in his fifties stood, Prof knew him only in passing, having never met him personally. He knew from some passing comments made by the villagers that he moved to Smallgrovewell a few years back, and was a loner. Some said, he was an adventurer previously, others took him for a thief from a city, and others thought he was a juggler. Why he moved to the village was contested as well: retirement, escape, or tragic love.


    ¡°Torda, this adventurer found a money box in the dungeon. Can you open it?¡±


    The adventurer-thief-juggler took a measure of Prof, nodded approvingly, and examined the box. First, he turned it this way and that, then he started to poke the lock with small tools ¨C that looked like absolutely non-legal lockpicks. After ten minutes of poking, he put the box back onto the table.


    ¡°Beautiful work! Dungeons often provide interesting loot, here you got an old Bergian box outfitted with Imperial decorations and a complicated Dwarven lock. Theoretically, you could open the lock without its key, but that would destroy it most probably, and most of the box''s value is the lock itself. I think it would be better to destroy the box and not mess with the lock."


    The lock master looked expectantly at the Lady and Prof. Prof shrugged.


    ¡°I''m not attached to the box, but am interested in what is in it."


    ¡°The adventurer already paid his dues, he can do with the box as he likes.¡±


    Torda fished some other tools out of his coat ¨C those looked suspiciously like absolutely non-legal safe drills ¨C and after further ten minutes he had the bottom part of the box in his hands. The Lady and Prof took a peek into the box ¨C where three golden rings with gemstones sat. After a quick evaluation later Prof found out two cost around five silver a piece, and the third was magical with an unknown value.


    ¡°That was interesting, Master Hegyesi!" Lady Jotabor clapped him on the back and left the room. Prof was taken back a bit: this was the friendliest the Lady ever was to him (and she never called him "Master Hegyesi" either). Maybe the correct tax return had something to do with it.


    ¡°Master Hegyesi?" Obviously, Torda still wanted to talk to him "I like working with locks, and this one is an interesting piece. I would like to buy the box and the lock for two silver, if it would be possible."


    Without any thought, Prof shook on the business ¨C it was a useless box that he planned to sell for scrap. With a happy lock-enthusiast gone, he sold the scrap metal, together with the cheap jewelry to Sag, but kept everything made out of gold and silver to himself ¨C those seemed like a convenient way to store his wealth.


    Counting everything, he made forty silver and some pocket change in cash with less than a day''s work! Plus the magical items and the jewelry he kept! He felt like a CEO on Earth only by doing more work. He promised to tell Sag and a few others where he found the next day and set out to visit the patient.

 Chapter 3: Grinding for Levels. Or for food. Part 6

    In the time Prof retrieved the loot and did some business, Hajni tended to the elf¡¯s wounds, washed her, and was already cooking, when Prof arrived. Kendrik waved him to the table.


    ¡°Whatever happened to her, got her almost killed. If you hadn¡¯t arrived in time and brought her here, she would have died and we could only have provided a nice funeral.¡±


    ¡°Yes." Hajni added "Heavy concussion, multiple cracked ribs, that nasty fractured shin¡­" she glanced meaningfully at Prof at that "even the stab with inner bleeding would have been enough, but she got sepsis and I suspect the weapon she got stabbed with was poisoned. Or that poisoning came afterward. doesn''t matter. She had hours to live."


    ¡°Will she survive?¡±


    ¡°Yes, she will survive. I fed her enough potions, and antidotes, applied enough salves, and did enough other things that she should regain consciousness come tomorrow. She will have to rest for another day, but after that, she will be as good as new."


    ¡°Thank you, Hajni. What do I owe you?¡±


    ¡°Just because we are friends, seven silver. Don¡¯t try to haggle, Prof, if it wasn¡¯t you who paid for the treatment, I would ask for fifteen for a job like this!¡±


    ¡°Haggling hasn''t even crossed my mind, Hajni! Here is your money. But, why does it matter that the girl is a Red? And what is a Red¡±


    ¡°Hehe, the girl is at least thirty!" laughed Kendrik "Elves age a bit differently than Humans, and if my guess is right, she is even older than you relatively! She should have a higher Level than you, too. I''m not that good with the Red''s tattoos, but I think that bird means she is a scout for her Clan ¨C and you have to be at least Level 3 if I''m correct. I saw tattoos on her neck and arms too, so, and I say this again, I don''t know much about their ink, I would be surprised if she were below Level 4, probably Level 5."


    Prof already knew his martial Skill were fit for a Level 4 or 5, so he had some idea of what was needed to get the Elf into this state. For example a Dire Wolf or the oberbonef¨¹hrer from the dungeon. If the girl ¨C he couldn''t think about her in other terms ¨C had potions too, she was hit by someone powerful.


    ¡°As for your question about the Reds," Kendrik continued "they are crazy. They look down on anyone who is not an Elf or outright hate them. They are something like enforcers for the Domain: they hunt everyone down the Elves think offended, crossed, or annoyed them. We have a saying ¨Ca Red happened ¨C for unexplained and sudden death. There are a lot of legends about them, but no one knows anything concrete. If someone complains to one of the Princes or even the High King, they just shrug. They can''t do anything, the Reds don''t belong to either Prince just their own Clan. The complainer mostly dies afterward suddenly and in an unexplained matter. A Red happened to them, as the saying goes. The common wisdom is, don''t mess with Elves or they will kick out your teeth. Don''t mention Elves or they may hear about it, get annoyed, and kick out your teeth. And under no circumstance mess with a Red. You may wish someone kicked out your teeth."


    ¡°To get it clear: I just brought a psychopathic, speciesist mass murderer into the village?"


    ¡°Yes, that sounds about right.¡±


    ¡°Fantastic!¡±


    That was bad news. Who would have thought that bringing the cute little injured neighbor back home was a bad idea? He didn''t even know anything about Elves! If the "Reds" were so bad, why didn''t anyone warn him about not talking about and talking to Elves, and definitely not bringing them home? It was like every Local knew how dangerous they were and assumed, everyone else knew too! Oh, wait. Everyone else probably knew it, just not an Earth ex-pat who just fell from the sky, and who didn''t advertise he wasn''t from around there.


    He even read that f******* Rule Book! He had Skills! And still, every day he found out something new that was not covered by the book or his Skills! How was that fair? What would have happened, if he haven¡¯t read that f***** Rule Book?!? Maybe being an Utter Moron but having some nice cheat powers would have been better. Hmmm¡­ Probably not. Still, someone should have warned him about treehuggers and teethkickers.


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    Prof resigned himself to a long night of heavy drinking. The joy of having made a boatload of money transformed into utter terror for probably having doomed the village. His depression lasted till the garden gate: as soon as he reached it, a red exclamation mark started to blink in his peripheral view. He opened the new parchment with a thought.


    <u>Congratulation!</u>


    For working hard and diligently you have amassed enough EXP to be granted a Level Up! You have received 14 HP and 110 Skill Points that you can distribute as you wish! Only the sky is the limit!


    <u>Attention!</u>


    Because you have paid attention to courtesy and cleanliness even in situations where it could have been waived for all of your life, you have been gifted with the Perk Gentleman. From now on everyone will look upon you neutrally at the worst. Have a nice day, Sir!


    Besides the very much appreciated Level Up there were two nice surprises in the messages. First, his Point Harvester Perk was valid for HP too, if his math was any good, he should have gotten only 13. The other was the free Perk. The Rule Book was quite adamant that gaining new Perks was a chore and by no means guaranteed. There probably was a bug in a System, because Prof very much doubted, one month of being polite and clean was enough for a new Perk ¨C it probably measured his whole life (that is his twenty-two years) as it was lived on Arkadia and not his effective life on Arkadia (that is one month).


    Or he was just handed a staple isekai Cheat Power ?.


    With such an ¨¹bersupreme mega cheat there was no way he couldn''t abuse it to reach world domination! Not that he wanted it ¨C his idea for his new life was traveling, seeing sights, and earning enough money for a comfortable lifestyle without too much work. He also didn''t forget a very important rule from the Book: it was easier to lose a Perk than to gain one. So, if he wanted to keep his new one, he will have to continue being clean and polite. Not a problem, he didn''t see the gain in the effort of being rude, and he didn''t like being dirty.


    As for the Skill Points, he was happy like a little kid for the wrapping of his newest, extremely expensive toy. He had so many plans with Skill Points, so many Skills to raise to an acceptable Level, and so much to learn! He never understood certain Main Characters in novels, why they banked and saved Stats and Skill Points and whatever for the far-off possibility they would need them later to solve a problem ¨C while spending it right now could have prevented the problem in the first place.


    Leveling Up was there to spend the points as fast as possible, not to open a bank account for them. No one gave you interest in the Points sitting idle and unused! Prof did remember a few novels, where the Main Character was weak across the board but still hoarded the Points like a Dragon gold ¨C and promptly found himself in preventable situations. Prof didn''t want to get into such a situation: spend what you have gotten right now, free points will do nothing if you are dead.


    As it was, he already made plans for the distribution earlier. He raised [Axes] to 175%, and to get the edge of Parvenue his [Convincing] to 77%. To make use of the information he received from Kendrik he put 29% to [Observe], bringing it up to 40%. That still wasn¡¯t much, and probably he would still not get any useful information out of it, but at least he started on the road. Previously he hadn¡¯t decided what to do with his extra point from Point Harvester, just to spend it on something that transpired as a weakness.


    After the fuck-up with the Elf (the treatment, not bringing her to the village) he felt it prudent to put a few points into [First Aid] for the simple reason not to kill a patient while trying to save him ¨C 68% will be hopefully enough for that. For his next Level Up he planned to raise his two martial Skills to 200%, and slowly bring [Valuation] and [Looting] up to that level too, and the rest of his Points would go into [Observe], [Etiquette] and [First Aid] till all of them reached 100%.


    As a long-term plan, he still felt validated to get a few other Skills up to around 100%, [Wilderness Survival], [Hunting], [Tracking], [Art: Drawing] and [Art: Painting] amongst others. Only after having a solid base, he planned to get back to his chosen four Skills.


    He skipped the long night of heavy drinking in exchange for a good sleep. The next day the first task was to visit Kendrik, Hajni, and their new patient.

 Chapter 4: Run through the forest. Part 1

    The next morning Prof made his way to Kendrik¡¯s house first thing in the morning. The ranger was ¨C in contrast to his usual schedule ¨C still at home and was talking to his wife.


    ¡°Morning, friends!¡± Prof greeted them ¡°How is our patient?¡±


    ¡°The wounds are healing well, she is sleeping right now." Hajni led them into the house and placed a mug with tea into Prof''s hand. He recognized it from the smell, it was made of some herbs that sped up healing ¨C he still needed it after yesterday''s dungeon run. He just took a sip, when they heard a yell.


    ¡°Hol vagyok?¡±


    ¡°Biztons¨¢gban¡± replied Kendrik. Prof didn¡¯t know he spoke Elven. Elfish, Elvish. Whatever. ¡°Az az ember megtal¨¢lt az erd?ben, ¨¦s megmentett.¡±


    ¡°Egy b¨¹d?s ember?!? Egy ember hozz¨¢m ¨¦rt?!? Diszn¨®!¡±


    ¡°Az az ember megmentett!¡±


    ¡°Hihetetlen! Egy sz?r?s majom!¡±


    Prof only understood a few words from the whole dialogue, however, he was sure, the girl haven''t ordered a beer. Judging from her angry expression, she wasn''t happy to be rescued by Prof and brought to the village ¨C however, she was quite cute as she yelled with Kendrik while half naked. The blanket slipped down to her waist, leaving her shapely breast uncovered.


    Prof had a suspicion, Elves had different views on being naked than Humans back on Earth (and in Central Europe in particular) ¨C in any case, Prof fell in love immediately. Or got horny, sometimes it was hard to distinguish the two.


    ¡°Excuse me, Miss¡± He greeted her with a bow. ¡°I don¡¯t know if you understand me, but I found you on a riverbank half-dead, according to Hajni you had only a few hours to live.¡±


    ¡°I understand you, majom! Do you expect a reward?" The girl spoke Bergian with a cute accent ¨C not much different than Kendrik did, but heavier ¨C the rhythm was more melodic, and she articulated a few sounds much softer, others she used as diphthongs.


    ¡°No, Miss. It was natural to save you. My name is Prof, by the way.¡±


    ¡°You majmok never do anything for free!¡±


    ¡°It is not polite to call your savior a majom.¡± Kendrik interjected ¡°And you own him a v¨¦rtartoz¨¢s. As far as I know, you Reds insist on keeping the traditions.¡±


    ¡°What does a korcs know about traditions?¡± she spat. ¡°However you are right that no one can accuse the Clans of the V¨¦rt¨¹nd¨¦k not respecting the traditions."


    With that, the girl jumped out of bed ¨C not caring that she was completely naked ¨C bowed deeply, and held her arms outstretched to the sides with the fingers in a complicated pattern.


    ¡°I, Shinead Sidhe of the blood of Fiona the Fast, a scout for the Gyors Ny¨ªlvessz? Clan acknowledge that I owe Prof the Human a V¨¦rtartoz¨¢s. As long as the debt is not considered settled by both parties, Prof the Human is my commander.¡±


    ¡°Witnessed.¡± Kendrik and Hajni said in unison. Prof only understood that he forced the Elven girl into some kind of debt ¨C and as much as he heard about Red Elves, he had to be extremely careful what he did with that kind of power. He could very much awake to the fact that he is standing in line in the afterlife.


    ¡°All right. Miss Sidhe, right? I don¡¯t want to make this debt awkward. Please sit down. Can I call you Shinead?¡±


    The Elf sat down on the bed and at least covered herself up below the waist ¨C Prof didn¡¯t know if he regretted that, but he already needed all his willpower to look into Shinead¡¯s eyes. As in looking into her eyes, and not looking at her eyes. He was a guy, after all, it was genetically coded into him to look at eyes.


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    ¡°What can you tell us? How did you get wounded?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t remember much¡± Shinead dropped her head ¡°I was making a delivery for the Clan, and I remember I¡¯m fighting on a clearing with someone, then I just remember pictures about wandering the forest. My gear! Where is my gear?¡±


    ¡°You only had your cloth on, nothing else when I found you. Hajni, what is left of the clothes?¡±


    ¡°The shirt was already torn up, and I had to cut the trousers to treat the fracture. Only one boot remained, that''s there next to the bed. There was nothing else."


    ¡°I will get you some clothing, but the quality will not be exceptional¡± Prof promised


    ¡°Clothing is not of interest, but I had important documents in my pack! I have to get them back, or I will never be allowed back to the Clan!¡±


    ¡°Right, I can help you, but Hajni said you have to rest for another day. I will try to get you some clothes and gear. Rest, and tomorrow morning we will get on the way.¡±


    The elf wasn''t thrilled about the delay, but still lay down grumbling, she turned to the wall and pulled the blanket over her head. Prof signed Kendrik and Hajni to follow him outside. He had one day to gather enough gear for an adventure of unknown length and needed some things from his friends too.


    ¡°Hajni, I don¡¯t know how long the search will last, and I don¡¯t want to set out without enough medicine. What can you get ready till tomorrow? I will need health potions, and a few antidotes, but what else could you recommend?¡±


    ¡°I can give you one 40HP, two 20HP, and four 10HP potions right now, and till morning probably two other 20HP ones, plus some other things. I can give you two antidotes too, some disinfecting salves, boost for healing some tea, and a few bandages. For you, I will charge only eleven Silvers. For another two I can make a potion that raises your evasion, damage, and resilience for a few minutes."


    ¡°All right, I''ll take everything¡± Prof was very interested in the potion mentioned last. He heard about such potions previously, but according to Hajni, they were hard to come by and mostly expensive. At least out in the countryside. Prof was lucky his friend was able to make at least one.


    ¡°Prof, I have an old training bow, it''s not as good as my regular hunting bow, but you will not find anything better here on such short notice. I could sell it, my old quiver, and a dozen arrows for one silver."


    Prof nodded. He hoped, the Elf was good with a bow ¨C after all, she was an Elf and since Tolkien, everyone knew Elves were good with bows, Dwarves with axes, and Hobbits with stabbing you in the back. Prof planned to give her his old knife, as he didn''t use it and the hunting knife from the dungeon was way better. He also needed some clothes, including two shirts for himself, a backpack, and a few basic necessities. And food.


    ¡°Kendrik¡± Prof turned back from the gate ¡°What does majom mean? She called me that a few times if I''m not mistaken."


    ¡°That''s the derogatory term the Reds ¨C and to a lesser degree, other Elves ¨C call Humans. I don''t think there is a word for that in our language, or at least I don''t know it. It''s some animal that lives in trees, is hairy, and throws its shit around. The Elves say, Humans are a sub-species of them or evolved from them and still throw shit around. It''s utter nonsense, we didn''t evolve out of anything."


    Prof had an idea, of what that particular animal could be, back on Earth some people were called exactly that by certain other people. Apparently, racism and speciesism weren''t unique to Earth-Humans, but it was shocking to be on the receiving end. Prof first visited the village''s tailor and bought two undyed linen shirts a pair of heavy-duty pants, a simple leather belt, and a pair of turn-shoes for the girl (there was no sexy underwear on sale) and two peasant shirts for himself.


    Including a blanket and a messenger bag, the shopping cost him sixty-five coppers, and the quality wasn''t even good. From here and there he got a wooden plate, wooden cutlery, a canteen, a liter of forest-fruit booze (for his alcoholism), and rations for two people for a week. When Horka, the cook heard, he would leave the village he gave him half a kilo of cookies and a piece of cheese ¨C he told Prof that although neither gave any bonuses, they were of a better quality and were enough for two days for two people.


    The rations he put into his sack, and returned to the ranger¡¯s house with the gear for the girl. The couple already prepared his purchase ¨C after some thought Prof put half of the medicine away for himself, the rest he brought over to the Elf.


    ¡°Shinead, unfortunately, there was not much I could buy here, so you have to be content with these. If there were better ones, I would have bought it for you."


    The Elven girl watched the gear with apparent disgust ¨C the disgust was understandable, the whole pile was probably worth less than her boots.


    ¡°As you wish.¡± Being thirty to forty centimeters shorter and lying in bed she managed to look down on Prof ¡°I suppose, if I go naked, you will get ideas. I warn you, if you touch me in any way, I will kill you. Slowly. I won¡¯t care about the V¨¦rtartoz¨¢s. ¨¦rted?¡±


    ¡°No problem. I don¡¯t plan to go around and touch girls. Have a good rest! See you tomorrow morning!¡±


    The Elf grumbled something that could be interpreted as acceptance ¨C or she called Prof a hairy animal again ¨C turned back to the wall and went to sleep.

 Chapter 4: Run through the forest. Part 2

    The next morning Prof cleaned himself and his room up checked over everything he had and said his goodbyes to Sag, Horka, and the Lady. Prof couldn''t tell if she was happy that the murderhobo or the specist terrorist was leaving her domain. But Prof didn''t care that much, Lady Jotabor wasn''t his favorite person in Arkadia either. To his surprise, the old Captain was waiting for him in front of Kendrik''s house.


    ¡°Good morning, Prof. Although the Lady doesn¡¯t like you for some reason, I do have to thank you for everything you did this last month. Please accept this.¡° He handed a copper plaque over with the Jotabor coat-of-arms engraved in it ¡°Show this to the Captain of any Town Guard in Wanderberg and they will know you are a trustworthy man. It will work for most of the Noble Guards too. Good luck, my friend!¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Captain. I hope, I will visit Smallgrovewell again!¡±


    ¡°My friend, I do have the feeling, we will hear about you!¡± Kendrik gave him a hug as a goodbye ¡°With your numbers, you will leave most of the famous adventurers in the dust soon! But, be careful, don¡¯t get overconfident!¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t, my friend!¡±


    Hajni hugged him too and gave him the rest of the potions. Prof turned to the Elf.


    ¡°All right, Shinead, I think we can go now. On the first leg to the lake, we will run, and then we will try to find your tracks."


    The Elf nodded and they set out. Although Prof was fast (at least in Earth terms), the Elf still could have left him standing without any effort ¡ª but only Prof knew the way, so she had to adapt to his pace. Just to prove what he was capable of, Prof dictated a serious speed, so they reached the waterfall in record time.


    "I found you here," Prof pointed out. ¡°Since you wouldn¡¯t have been able to get far with that nasty fracture, I assume you broke your leg here, falling down the cliff. Let''s look around up there!¡±


    Shinead followed Prof to the top of the waterfall without a word and watched silently as he tried to find clues. After ten minutes, Prof realized his Skill was too low to find several days-old clues on stony ground.


    "Unfortunately, I didn''t find anything," he admitted to the elf. She just hummed contemptuously (it was terribly cute when she did this).


    ¡°It was expected. This is why I''m so much better than you. Do you see that bush with the piece of fabric on it? I have had to come from that direction, stumbled upon this stone here, hit my head on that one over there, and finally, I fell into the stream there. How can you not see the tracks?¡±


    "I only have 72% in [Tracking], but I hope I''ll be as good as you are one day." Again, he could say the sentence without sarcasm. Ok, without much sarcasm. ¡°If you have the track, we can continue.¡±


    The next hours were spent walking slowly, Shinead following her own footsteps unerringly as Prof tried to spot them. No matter that he knew what to look out for, he was certain half of the time he missed something. He didn''t have as high a Skill as the Elf, let alone Kendrik. He had no plans to increase his [Tracking] Skill in the next few levels, but he hoped something would just stick to him following the Elf.


    Other than dirt or blood. The trail they followed meandered back and forth in the woods, the Elf apparently wasn¡¯t clear in her head the last time she was there. They made barely six kilometers as the crow flies till the evening, but following the footsteps, it was more than twelve ¡ª at a normal pace it would have been maybe an hour, Shinead said it took her a day and a half or maybe two wounded as she was. The elf wasn¡¯t a great conversationalist, she said practically nothing by herself, and answered Prof''s questions as briefly as possible (and sometimes in a really rude way).


    So, Prof didn''t learn that much ¨C the most important point was the borders of the Domain were not fixed, but fluid and more of a frontier than a true border. He figured that sometimes the Elves "annexed" a grove or let go of a hill, but without reason and rhyme.


    They made camp in a small clearing at dusk, for lack of a better idea, halving the guard time. Prof somehow enjoyed the camp. There was no chance of seeing the starry sky at home, even in the deepest countryside: urban light pollution (and smog) suppressed everything but the brightest stars. Here, in the middle of the forest, in a world where street lighting had not yet been invented, the sight was indescribable. Unknown constellations, including the four moons of Arkadia: the largest white, a little reddish a bit closer, and the two little yellowish twin moons farther away.


    There may have been an interesting tidal system on the planet. Prof wondered which of the stars might be the Sun, or whether he was still in the same galaxy ¡ª or dimension ¡ª at all. He woke Shinead after midnight (making sure not to touch her) and then crawled into his bedroll. He had forgotten to buy a tent. Again.


    After a half-night of not really relaxing sleep, they continued following the track. Even Shinead had a hard time finding them now. She had to turn back several times and search for a long time. At least they found the girl''s other boot under a bush, and Shinead immediately replaced her footwear out of the overpriced bargain bin.


    The Elf girl was visibly frustrated by the time they arrived at a larger clearing in the afternoon, having made just over ten kilometers (and barely four in a direct line). On one side was a small lake that continued in a stream through a waterfall ¡ª Prof thought it might be the same stream he had found the girl on the shore of a few days ago ¡ª and even Prof could trace the fight in the clearing¡¯s grass. Around a campfire lay her belongings in a huge mess ¨C Shinead immediately ran over and began to search.


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    "Most of my stuff is here," she said after a short time, despairing "Only my money and the documents are missing. And my dagger.¡±


    "Let''s look around the clearing to see if there are any clues. I will take the lake¡¯s shore, you search the edges of the clearing. There must be something!¡±


    After nearly half an hour of playing Indian, it was surprisingly Prof who found something: a few footprints in the soft ground.


    "This is my footprint," Shinead pointed to one after examining them, "and the other might have been the attacker. Interesting. I could swear Elven boots left the print.¡±


    ¡°Why is it interesting? We are in the Elven Domain, people are expected to walk around in Elven footwear.¡±


    ¡°Elves, not Humans! Don''t mix up species! Or should I compare you to a majom?! The interesting thing is that obviously, an elf was the attacker! We don¡¯t sell these boots to other races and there¡¯s little chance anyone will accidentally find one. Plus, the attacker left everything here except the scrolls, so they were specifically looking for them! It wouldn''t mean much to another species! The lack of clues also suggests that a highly trained ranger was here. That alone wouldn¡¯t rule out a few other races, but all in all, an Elf is the logical answer to everything!¡±


    Shinead hadn''t spoken that much at once before, and not even the usual arrogance and contempt radiated from her. Just the conviction, Elves were obviously the Alpha and Omega of everything ¨C but hey, Humans think that about themselves too. And probably Dwarves, Dragons, and Cats. From her argument, Prof figured that he had been mixed up with a political intrigue between the Elves. Although he did not like political games at all ¡ª especially the games of another race ¡ª he had no better things to do.


    ¡°Okay, let¡¯s say you were indeed attacked by an Elf and he was really looking for the scrolls. Who knew you were going to go this way and had an interest in getting the documents? What was in them for a start?¡± Prof tried to apply the knowledge he had learned from the crime series he had seen over the years, but he had too little information about the local cultures and customs. And only 29% in [Investigation].


    "That¡¯s not your business!" Shinead has found her usual style. "It¡¯s enough for you to know that our Clan Head sent them to the Great Lady of the erdei t¨¹nd¨¦k. Many would have had an interest in obtaining them, but few knew they would be sent. Those who knew about it were members of the Clan, but they would not have had an interest in acquiring them.¡±


    "I don''t know your language ??and culture that much, so correct me if I''m wrong, but you''re a red, if I remember correctly, you called yourself a V¨¦r, and now the recipient is an Erdei. Is that another tribe?¡±


    ¡°The V¨¦rt¨¹nd¨¦k, or in your tongue blood or red Elves and the Erdei T¨¹nd¨¦k, or in your tongues wood or green Elves are not two tribes, but two different races of elves! Only you Humans have tribes!¡±


    ¡°Ah, I see! How many races do you have?¡±


    ¡°There are also Nemes T¨¹nd¨¦k, the Yellow or High Elves, Vizi T¨¹nd¨¦k, the Blue or Sea Elves, and the S?t¨¦t T¨¹nd¨¦k, the Black or Death Elves. Then we have the J¨¦gt¨¹nd¨¦k, the White or Ice Elves, and the Holdt¨¹nd¨¦k, the White or Moon Elves. And the different Beastfolks. You Humans think the korcsok are elves too, but they are not.¡±


    "You said white twice."


    ¡°No. All right, in your tongue white and white are the same, but not in Elvish. You could say white for the first, and silver for the second, maybe.¡±


    "Okay, so there are seven or eight races. From which could have someone joined your Clan to spy on you?"


    ¡°From none of them! We would recognize it immediately simply by appearance and behavior, and if that weren¡¯t enough, we¡¯d look at the stranger¡¯s character parchment, it shows the species!¡±


    ¡°Can you take a look at the character parchment of others?!?¡±


    ¡°Where do you come from? A cave? I wouldn¡¯t be surprised¡±

 Chapter 4: Run through the forest. Part 3

    Prof didn''t feel it fair to be called a cave-dweller now (and monkey), he even read that thrice-cursed Rule Book, and there was absolutely no mention of showing others your imaginary parchment. Or that others could view it without your consent.


    ¡°Of course, you can see the parchment of others!¡± Shinead continued ¡°The vezet? of each territory, in your languages, it would ??maybe mean leader, commander or lord, can see anyone''s who enters the territory without permission. In many places, the leader''s advisers and military commanders also have the right to do so. And the judges, too. Oh, and there are Perks for it too.¡±


    ¡°OK, I get it.¡± So Lady Jotabor was able to see Prof¡¯s abilities. Probably even Captain Bela could have done so ¡°So no one could have infiltrated your clan except another red elf.¡±


    ¡°That''s right.¡±


    ¡°Since you claim no one else was aware of your mission and the documents, but only a clan member and only a Red Elf can be a clan member, what could be the reason for a Red Elf to infiltrate your clan or prevent documents from reaching the Greens? To harm the clan?¡±


    "The vast majority of my people are members of a clan; by law, we can''t harm each other, only the enemies of the elves. That is, everyone who is not an Elf.¡±


    "I see, are there any independent Reds?"


    ¡°There are no independents, only those who are not clan members. Alone a Red doesn¡¯t live long, they definitely need to join an organization.¡±


    ¡°So, either a non-clan member infiltrated your Clan, or the other Clans have decided that you are enemies of the elves.¡±


    "The latter is impossible, but the former not so much. But I see what you mean. We have little contact with the Blacks, to begin with, they would not be affected by the alliance of the Reds and the Greens, and the Blues would even be happy for it. If we dismiss an intrigue inside the court at the Greens, only the Yellows remain. They would have the opportunity, power, and interest to prevent an alliance.¡±


    Shinead let something important slip, it was about an alliance!


    ¡°You left the White and Silvers out. But I don''t understand what''s wrong with an alliance?¡±


    The elf girl looked at Prof angrily as she realized she had let information slip, but finally sighed.


    "Neither of those matters much. The Whites don''t live in the Domain and the Silvers don¡¯t concern themselves with politics. As for the alliance, you should understand the history and politics of the Elves. In short, we are being squeezed by the younger species from several angles. You Humans are to the East, mostly the Empire, North and West we have the greenskins, and more recently to the South, the lizards from the sea."


    "Fortunately, we can deal with the Northern and Western directions with the help from the Beastfolks, in the East, the Empire is occupied for the foreseeable future, but in the South we are alone. The Yellows have focused on the East, the Humans, for the last few centuries, and it has even been suggested that an ally should be sought there against the lizards. If the Greens and the Blues, together with the Reds, would support a main effort in the South, the High King would have to change his position and give up his Eastern interests and contacts."


    "That is, he would lose power. For the Yellows, the only thing worse than change is loss of power."


    ¡°Do I understand correctly: the High King would rather give up the southern front just so he doesn''t lose power in the short term? He would lose even more power in the long run!¡±


    ¡°You''re a Human, for us elves, short- and long-term means something else. Especially to the High King. The southern front, as you call it, will hold for centuries, during which time anything can happen, but if you give up Eastern interests, you will not be able to influence what happens after the fall of the Empire. People will remember that we let them down. Other powers will be able to fill the space.¡±


    ¡°After the fall of the Empire? As far as I know, the Empire is fine, thank you very much!¡±


    "That¡¯s not entirely true even now, but we''re talking about a fleeting two or three hundred years here! In such a short time I will probably not even be a mother, and the High King will certainly still sit on his throne.¡±


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    "If it¡¯s not that pressing, why is it important to turn South?"


    "We''ve waited twice, against Humans and the Greenskins with the result that the Domain shrunk to a fragment of its former glory, the Whites are holed up in the North and the Greens aren¡¯t doing well either. If together with the Blues we manage to get the Greens to focus on the South instead of the West, we can get rid of the lizard threat in its infancy. Reinforced with the Blues, we can take care of the Greenskins after that, and eventually, we can stop the Humans as well!¡±


    Prof was familiar with the setup. Half a dozen great powers (in this case species) are trying to get positions in a limited area, along tangled lines of interest and connections. All there was to wait for was some self-proclaimed world savior to protect the aliens and hug the trees. Or kill off everyone else. Or something similar. Yay, World War on Arkadia!


    ¡°What can we do?¡± Prof, in truth, couldn¡¯t be interested in the Elves¡¯ internal political moves any less, and even the future of the Local Humans wasn¡¯t very high on his agenda, but he felt an inner urge (call it love or hornyness) to help Shinead. And he had no better things to do anyway.


    "I have to warn the Clan first. If the Yellows really got a spy in and got the scrolls, they will set an example!¡±


    ¡°All right, show me the way!¡±


    ¡°There''s only one problem. A living Human has never entered the territory of the Clan, and I will not bring one in either.¡±


    "It''s okay, I''ll camp at the border and wait."


    ¡°What makes you think I''m coming back?¡±


    "First of all, you owe me a life and haven''t paid it back yet. Secondly, without me, you wouldn¡¯t have had a chance to articulate the suspicion and warn the clan. That means you owe me for that as well. Thirdly, this case is not over yet, an outsider will surely come in handy later.¡±


    Shinead thought for a moment, then nodded.


    ¡°I''ll get my stuff and we can go.¡±


    Prof set off after the elf when he noticed a glint in the water out of the corner of his eye.


    ¡°Wait a minute.¡± He waded into the lake and, after a little searching, lifted a strange dagger out of the water. Both edges of the forearm-length blade were razor sharp, and the tip curved slightly upward. Prof could not decide whether the dagger should be used primarily for stabbing or cutting, both options were given. Examining the blade up close, he noticed a fine decoration on it, but he could not determine its material. It looked like very good quality stainless steel.


    ¡°My dagger! You found my dagger! Give it to me!¡±


    "Nice weapon," Prof said, turning it around thoughtfully. [Valuation] didn¡¯t give any concrete feedback, only indicated that the weapon was worth at least a hundred silver.


    "Yes, it is. My grandmother gave it to my mother, and she gave it to me. Give.¡±


    Prof wondered for a moment what he could ask the elf girl for such a family heirloom, but in the end, he handed it over without further ado. You might feel good for ten minutes, but she would surely present the bill after that.


    Affixed to the point or the edge of a blade.


    He was surprised to see Shinead bow, spreading her hands in an intricate pattern.


    ¡°Tartozom neked! Megint! Nem fogom elfelejteni!¡±


    Shinead turned around, went back to her pack, and without any concern about showing skin changed the peasant trousers she had received at Smallgrovewell to a pair of deep-red, body-fitting, running pants (at least on Earth Prof would have called them as such). It emphasized her legs and butt nicely - Prof became more and more in love (or horny). Shinead gathered up her belongings, nodded toward Prof, and headed for the woods.


    ¡°We have to hurry, try to keep up!¡±


    Prof tried to, but he started to fall behind almost immediately - since he had eighteen Points in Agility and Shinead still let him look like standing still, the girl had to have at least twenty in the Stat. Luckily, five minutes later, Shinead slowed down to wait for Prof, it was less fortunate that she did it with a contemptuous expression.


    "I forgot you people are so slow. I will be forced to run slower! Come on!¡±


    Prof wanted to bet that Shinead hadn''t forgotten the difference between their speeds, but just wanted to make her superiority clear. Prof wasn''t sure if there was any saying in Arkadia one shouldn''t race with elves, but one would have been justified in any case. Shinead held back the pace afterward, but Prof still had to force himself.


    The Elf ran for four hours right in front of Prof, and whenever Prof pressed the pace a bit, the girl also accelerated. Prof only tried this a few times, on the one hand, he wanted to save his energy, and on the other hand, the view was much better from behind: the shapely ass and legs hidden in tight pants were not the worst sights in the world. And Prof had no idea where they were going. By the end of the fourth hour, the girl had finally slowed to a normal walking pace.


    ¡°Do you see that hill?¡± She pointed to a rocky outcrop, perhaps a mile away. "We''re going to camp there. If we can keep up the pace, we will arrive at the border of the clan territory tomorrow night. You will be camping there, and I''ll warn the others. If all goes well, I''ll get back to you in two days.¡±


    ¡°What should I do for two days in the middle of the forest?¡±

 Chapter 4: Run through the forest. Part 4

    ¡°That¡¯s none of my business. Find yourself a rodent that you can screw around with, or there¡¯s a cave over there that you can feel at home in.¡±


    "You do know that most of the Humans aren''t hormone-driven screw machines?"


    "I don''t know what ''hormones'' are, but you''re right. I do believe the average Human stud can last up to five minutes without screwing. Or without thinking about it!¡±


    The elf girl was probably right about that, if Humans hadn¡¯t been able to think of anything other than screwing for at least five minutes, they wouldn''t have invented things like clothing, alcohol, and furnishings. But it is also possible that the second was invented to take the first off the women and make them more comfortable in the third. And anyway, in addition to screwing, you could think of cars (which made it easier to remove clothing), travel (as above), and a million other things that influenced the ability to do the dirty.


    ¡°Cave? You mean, like, a dungeon is in the neighborhood or a cave like a hole on a hillside?¡± Prof changed the subject very skilfully. Of course not to prove his masculinity by clearing out a possible dungeon and getting money (from which he could buy things that could dazzle the chick. Absolutely not for some horizontal acrobatics).


    ¡°Yes, you would call it a dungeon. The Clan uses it as a training ground, we usually send five trainees in, accompanied by a more experienced hunter. If I remember correctly, the final Boss is a Level 7 bear. I don¡¯t know if you will manage it alone, but if you try it, collect as much of the mushrooms in the third room as you can. Allegedly, alchemists give good money for it. Then there is a better quality spice growing in the fourth room, which chefs usually look for.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm¡­ We''ll see. Maybe I will give it a try¡±


    "Do as you wish, it''s your life," Shinead shrugged and began to climb the last rocks. The view from the hilltop was nothing significant, the hill barely rising out of the canopy. Prof was grateful even for that little view, at least it gave a little more detail to his map. How hard it could have been to map an entire planet without satellites, GPS, and other stuff! It¡¯s a miracle that our ancestors didn¡¯t leave it all to hell and stayed in their own village - which, by the way, the vast majority still do today.


    Progress the next day was a little easier, as they left the untouched forest soon after setting out and turned to a poor-quality cart trail. Prof could not enjoy the ¡°road¡± for long, after the noon rest they left it and continued the tour on a game trail. It was already late afternoon when Shinead suddenly stopped in front of a few trees. Prof didn¡¯t see anything out of ordinary in them, they looked like the other trees in the forest.


    "This is where the Clan''s territory begins, I hope I can make it in two days. Until then, you can either camp here or see the cave. If you choose the latter, this path will lead you to it: as soon as you arrive at the hazelnut grove, there will be a hill on the left, with the entrance on the North side. If you''re not here when I get back, I''ll find you there. If I¡¯m not back in a week, it means I won''t be back at all. Then go back to the cart trail, head East to Wanderberg, and head West to the Yellows capital.¡±


    The elf girl disappeared into the trees without any further goodbyes, leaving the stunned Prof behind. Prof thought that he had never been dumped like this before but then rationalized that the girl still owed him, and floated the possibility of return. She just couldn¡¯t leave him permanently in the middle of the woods! Prof shrugged and decided to take a look at the dungeon and at worst, get some valuables, and return to Wanderberg.


    Since he still had a few more hours until sunset, he set off at a comfortable pace toward the hazelnut grove. After running for the past few days, the little forest walk was especially good for Prof¡¯s peace of mind, although the wild forest wasn¡¯t exactly a suburban park, it was calming to walk among the rustling trees with birds chirping along. Here and there small clearings opened from the trail, in other places he had to cross small brooks meandering between rocks or crawl under a huge, fallen tree.


    Prof finally reached the hazelnut grove far before sunset, and after some deliberation, he also looked at the entrance to the dungeon. He had no desire to start smashing unknown monsters while he was tired at the beginning of dusk, but it didn''t hurt to know what to expect the next day. The entrance opened from a clearing where various bones and incomplete skeletons were placed at strategic points - and, in truth, everywhere else.


    Among the trampled, yellowing grass, however, there was a prepared campsite too with a fire pit, prepared firewood, and dredged-together decorative bones. Prof calculated that the training group mentioned by Shinead would fit comfortably at the campsite. The entrance to the dungeon itself was not particularly impressive: a roughly circular hole in a rock wall.


    Prof even climbed to the top of the hill to get details for his map - hills rose out of the contiguous forest in some places, but no settlements or anything significant was visible. Since the local Elves were so kind and prepared the campground, Prof saw no reason not to use it for the next few days, and water was provided by a small spring seen in the hazelnut grove.


    The next day, after breakfast, Prof set out to clear the dungeon. Although they had not met anyone since leaving Smallgrovewell, he did not want to risk someone accidentally democratizing his belongings, so he was forced to take everything with him ¨C he planned to leave his bags right after the entrance to the dungeon as before. Prof was a little excited as Shinead didn''t say anything about what to expect in the dungeon, and back in the village, he knew pretty much everything.


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    The crevice where the entrance was turned sharply after a few steps and ended abruptly in a thick wooden door. Prof was puzzled at this at first, then remembered that he had to enter through a physical door to reach his previous dungeon too. In none of the places was it probable for the locals to have installed the doors, so he considered it probable that they belonged to the dungeon, perhaps as a security function, as if someone had put up a sign: ¡°Watch out, dude, dungeon!¡±


    After putting his belongings on the other side of the door, he set out to explore the dungeon with an axe in one hand and a torch in the other - and decided to get a headlamp, or something like that, as soon as possible so that both hands were free. Prof barely took a few steps in the initial tunnel when the floor collapsed under his feet.


    Thanks to his Olympic level Agility and Dexterity, Prof was able to jump at the last minute and land on the other side of the revealed pit. He didn''t expect traps. He also took a quick look at his character parchment, but the number 29% next to his [Traps] Skill didn¡¯t fill him with much confidence. For now, and for the next few levels, he could only hope that his reflexes were fast enough to avoid the effects of the traps, or at worst survive the trap. Or find someone with a fairly high level of Skill later.


    Barely ten meters later, he reached the first room - without setting another trap off. The room, or rather a chamber, was maybe five meters in diameter and more or less circular, with some drying-out ferns on the ground. The latter was written off by Prof as dungeon logic, after all, the life expectancy of plants in a closed cave converged strongly toward zero. Except for the ferns, the room looked empty, but as soon as Prof took a step inward, half a dozen rabbit-like little creatures sprung from among the ferns or from behind rocks and charged.


    Rabbit-like, except for bone spikes growing out of their foreheads. Prof was sure he had never heard of such a creature, yet he still knew they were called Stick-in-rabbits, and a good enough alchemist could extract a potent aphrodisiac from the bone spike. Where did he know that from, he had no idea, probably one of his Skills was in play ¨C [Monsterology] perhaps?


    He threw his torch at one for the beginning (of course he missed, he had only 64% in [Throwing]), and then he started dismembering the innocent little bunnies with his two axes. Because they were lightning fast and, as the example of the village rats had shown, a normal hit was enough for rodents of this size, he didn¡¯t even attempt to go for critical hits. Fortunately, after the first surprise attack, which would have caused painful problems for a less agile person, the rabbits did not cause any serious problems afterward.


    Prof''s armor was good enough to ward off damage from the few successful hits. The rabbits were nimble, but one hit was almost always enough to kill them, so Prof finished the last one after only a few minutes. After thinking a bit, he only cut off the bone spikes, leaving the meat and fur, largely because he wasn¡¯t sure if the rabbits were edible or when he would get to a place where he could do something with the furs. Eventually, he went back to the entrance and took his empty sack ¨C it took up little space empty, and there were probably no heavy things to haul around in the dungeon. Finally, he didn''t feel like crawling through the dungeon again just to pick up the loot. Since there was nothing interesting left in the room, he went down the only possible corridor.


    The next room was slightly larger than the first, and this time the ground was covered with a significant amount of fern and moss, mushrooms settled here and there on the walls, and in the center of the room a huge, dog-sized rat rested on a block of rock. Prof did not hesitate, leaving the torch at the entrance, and immediately launched an attack: he took a few long steps to the rat and slammed down with both axes.


    That was the plan.


    In reality, there was another pit between the ferns, and though Prof managed to not fall into it or break his leg, he rolled through the vegetation with a desperate jump and even lost his left-handed axe. As he got up, he began to feel dizzy as if had a long night of drinking massively. The giant rat, of course, disappeared from the rock. Prof tried to concentrate and slowly turned around, looking for the rat. He almost vomited from that move.


    The search ended with the rat biting into his right leg from behind. Prof spun around and struck back, holding back the vomit. Unfortunately, the rat was located half a meter away from where Prof thought it was. Prof chased him while swaying wildly, but the pest escaped the hits again and again. In the end, Prof could no longer hold back, and without caring about the nimble little bastard, he vacated his breakfast from his stomach.


    The rat, of course, wasn¡¯t a gentleman, and in place of holding his hair back, it began to munch on Prof''s legs. Prof thought about what a ridiculous death awaited him: while he puked out his soul, a dog-sized rat devoured him from his ankle. At least he survived the rabbits, they would have laughed at him for centuries in the Office of the Afterlife. Eventually, he managed to gather himself together so much that he was able to launch another attack on the rat who was having a breakfast of his leg.


    He himself was surprised when he hit. Not only a hit but with one blow he cut off the rat''s right front leg! The now three-legged rat did not wait for an invitation, it wanted to fall on him again, and Prof preferred to stay on his knees. He used his left vambrace instead of dodging, and the rat dutifully bit down on it. Prof grinned as he smashed his nemesis into a pulp, and after standing up, he even kicked the remains thoroughly. After another period on his knees, he searched for his other axe and randomly staggered out of one of the tunnels opening from the room. It was out of the question to spend another second in the Hall of Poisonous Moss.

 Chapter 4: Run through the forest. Part 5

    Falling against the wall, Prof washed his hands and face, rinsed his mouth, and swallowed the remaining water. He was very hopeful that the symptoms would go away quickly.


    It was around two hours before he felt strong enough to continue the run. He was forced to down one of his 20 HP potions, then looked back into the rat¡¯s room and found he had staggered out from the right-hand corridor. There were two more exits, plus the tunnel he initially came from. If he was already there, he set out to explore the corridor he was in. Contrary to his previous experience, the corridor began to meander and reached an intersection after roughly twenty meters.


    Using the ancient wisdom of the maze-goers he chose the path on the right after carving an arrow into the wall. After a while, he discovered another intersection, where he chose the tunnel on the right again. He spent the next three or four hours wandering through a lovely little maze, sometimes hunched over, on all fours or crawling and climbing. On a section that could only be crawled along, rats attacked him, and he had to use his hunting knife because there was not enough room to swing his axes.


    As he wandered, he stumbled into two smaller chambers, in the first he was able to wash and replenish his water supply from an underground stream, and in the second he found some beautiful crystals, valued at a total of thirty silvers.


    He had not yet explored all the tributaries when he discovered another larger room. There were no ferns or moss in the room this time, but roots were hanging from the ceiling, limiting the observable area. Based on the previous rooms, Prof was sure that the tendrils acted as some kind of trap so that the currently invisible enemy could more easily defeat the intruders.


    For a start, he threw the torch into the middle of the room and entered, keeping his weapons ready. Although he tried to move so as not to touch the tendrils (maybe there was live current in them or they were toxic), he was largely unable to avoid contact. There was no problem at first, but the deeper he got into the room, the more and more he felt that the tendrils were groping after him, their touch lasting longer than it should, and there is more of them anyway. Near the middle of the room, he couldn¡¯t move without touching at least a few tendrils, and by then they were sticking to him, he couldn''t shake them off.


    To get some room to move, he started threshing the tendrils and found that his smaller, left-handed axe was more efficient, unable to swing the longer one normally. Driven by a sudden idea, he picked up his torch from the ground and tried to give the aggressive houseplant another target - unfortunately without success. Obviously, the roots were too moist to ignite and came to life even more from the fire.


    Prof finally gave up the fight and headed for the exit. After only a step, however, he realized that he would not be able to leave the room while the vegetation was present: there were too many that were too clingy, and they were trying to grab his limbs. He dropped the torch again and took the hunting knife looted in his previous dungeon into his left hand ¨C he could wield it even better in the tight space than his shorter axe.


    He took a deep breath and started weeding. Although the tendrils could hardly have had any HP, and it wasn''t too hard to hit them, in return they swung out from the hits, slipped off the blade, and other roots tried to wrap around his neck and arm, swinging in the way when he tried to attack. A hedge trimmer would have been ideal.


    Or at least pruning shears.


    Prof finally realized that if he wrapped the roots around his axe and stretched it, he could easily cut it with the knife. This made gardening easier, but not faster. A few times, Prof also had to cut off the roots wrapped around his limbs. After more than half an hour of cutting, the tendrils finally ran out, and Prof was filled from head to toe with the sticky sap of the plant, and where he was not covered by his clothes, with traces of the tiny hooks of the tendrils.


    Looking around the room, Prof found a chamber with an artistically placed, withered corpse with a severed root on its neck ¡ª at least the dungeons clung to their theme, and they also had some artistic veins. Prof quickly searched the corpse: five silver and a handful of pocket change, a well-made spiked knuckles, an ornate silver-plated belt buckle, and a half-dozen special, armor-piercing arrowheads were his loot. Next to the corpse, he also found four small clay pots with stoppers.


    After finishing the looting, he walked through the exit, wondering what a ridiculous near-death experience awaited him in the next room. Weasels? Kittens? As it turned out, the new hallway led him back to the mossy room. After some deliberation, he carefully filled two pots with the intoxicating moss, taking care not to touch it with his skin or even inhale anything by accident.


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    Another hallway opened from the hall, which he had not tried before, and since he had not yet met the Boss or the mushrooms and herbs mentioned by Shinead, he assumed the end of the dungeon was over there.


    The next room was indeed full of mushrooms, Prof could differentiate between four or five different varieties at first glance. The mushrooms covered everything: the floor, the walls, the ceiling, and even the wild boar in the middle of the room. Prof hoped that he would finally have a normal fight ahead of him, and he would not have to deal with traps, poisonous plants, aggressive tentacles, and whatnot. Just an adult, mushroom-covered, ticked wild boar. For some strange reason, the situation reminded him of something. Why was he thinking about the Greek Alphabet, and what came after Gamma?


    He propped his torch at the entrance and entered the room. The boar immediately turned to him, shaking himself - causing the air to fill with flying spores - and charged. Prof had already learned in this dungeon that pollen and spores were bad and equal to danger, but he could not do too much against it: even if he took a deep breath before reaching the spore cloud, it was hopeless to hold it back until he defeated the pig. He successfully avoided the first attack of the raw material for stew, but after a successful counterattack, another cloud of spores was released ¨C it was as if all his skin had been scalded with hot water, and his eyes were also in tears.


    He concluded that he had to end the boar as fast as possible, with as few hits as possible, if he didn¡¯t want to look like a scalded chicken. Knowing the rules, the obvious solution seemed to be critical hits against the eyes, those did the most damage but were the hardest to achieve. He hoped that in this way he would be able to get rid of the boar with two, or three hits at most.


    The problem was that the boar didn''t stay in melee, but charged Prof, ran to the other side of the room, and started a new attack - Prof either had to run after the boar (and couldn¡¯t attack the eyes from behind) or wait standing still, but then he could only attack once per charge. He chose the latter option.


    In the second charge Prof couldn¡¯t land a hit, in the third he managed to get the boar''s right eye, but he almost choked on the escaping spore cloud.


    In the fourth, he didn''t even try to attack because he tried to get some air into his lungs.


    At the fifth charge, he cleverly held his breath and managed to achieve a normal hit.


    The sixth charge was the last, with Prof holding his breath, he successfully smashed the boar''s head and basically cut it in half. He was prepared for the cloud of spores, but not for the whole boar to explode, spewing spores everywhere! He lost fifteen HP from the blast - and the flying pieces of pig - and was just under fifty, including his other adventures in the dungeon up to now. He drank his 40 HP potions with a heavy heart and looked at himself.


    The several layers of dirt that covered him he might be able to scrub away with hard work, but his pants were too far gone: his knees were torn from crawling around, his legs were chewed out by the giant rat, and it could almost stand on its own. Luckily, he had a spare pair of pants, plus his peasant ones if everything went south. Prof was determined to go to his next dungeon in clothes that were cheap enough, it was unnecessary to ruin his good stuff. Interestingly, most games don¡¯t take into account that expensive ball gowns weren¡¯t designed to be torn apart in random caves¡­


    Although Shinead warned that a particular mushroom was growing in the room that could be sold for good money, it turned out that there were six different kinds, and Prof''s Skills weren¡¯t high enough to figure out which might be the right one. For one he was sure it was just plain food, another he suspected that poison could be made from it, but for the other four, he had no idea what they could be used for. Eventually, he collected a larger quantity of the two knowns and a few pieces of the others. Even in the worst case, he could take them to someone competent to find out the uses and values.


    Since there was nothing else of value in the room, Prof continued on the only possible path. The hallway meandered a little, and finally, Prof saw the last room with the promised bear.


    ¡°Seriously?!? What kind of moronic idiot put together this fucking place?!?! A fucking raccoon is the Boss?!?!¡±


    Frustration erupted from Prof. At the far end of the room, next to a tiny stone tub, a cute raccoon was cleaning something, the rest of the room was grassy, with some ferns and some weeds here and there, which could have been the herb mentioned by Shinead. Prof put his torch down as usual and entered the room with a deep sigh.

 Chapter 4: Run through the forest. Part 6

    Prof was promised a bear as the Boss, but he found a raccoon ¨C his frustration wasn''t due to some miss-translation, since in Bergian and his own language from Earth a raccoon was called a "Washing Bear", but the fact that a cute little raccoon was the Boss. You simply don''t put raccoons as final Bosses into a dungeon. Some rare undead? Sure! A murder-tree? No problem. A manticore? Please. Something strong, threatening, and blood-thirsty? That''s the definition! A raccoon was neither.


    The raccoon stopped cleaning and watched Prof¡¯s approach with interest. Prof walked carefully, testing the ground at each step, his gaze dropping here and there, looking for mushrooms, tendrils, pitfalls, and whatnot. He was only a meter or two away from the laundry service bear and was already beginning to believe that a simple fight was finally ahead of him as the furry little bugger jumped up, ran between Prof''s legs, spun, and jumped onto his back. Prof reflexively wanted to strike back with his longer axe, but he realized in time that he would have a good chance of hitting himself and held back his attack.


    Meanwhile, the raccoon climbed on his helmet and tried to scratch Prof''s face with its two front paws. Yelling, Prof let his weapons fall and tried to catch or at least shake off the furry predator. When he finally managed to catch it, the little bastard bit his left hand and didn''t let go. Prof tried to shake him off or hit the ground with it. In the upper arch of one of these attempts, the raccoon let go of his hand, performed a beautiful somersault, and clung to Prof''s back again.


    Prof now didn¡¯t allow it to climb back on his head, but immediately threw himself on the ground and turned himself on his back. The raccoon deftly avoided the press and tried to reach the head again, running up on Prof''s belly. Prof learned from a classic film and shielding his face with his left hand, searched for his knife with the right. The hairy little face-hugger somehow clung to Prof''s armor with its hind legs, and with his front paws, he rained a storm of attacks on the defending arm and Prof''s neck.


    It took Prof some time to fish out the knife as he lay on it, but in the end, he managed to move so that he could pull it out. He grinned as he tried to stab his opponent, but after the first hit, the raccoon jumped off and ran to the room''s wall. Watching the fur ball, Prof scrambled to his feet and accidentally found his right-handed axe. He walked slowly toward the raccoon, ready to strike if the nimble little animal wanted to sprint again.


    And indeed, as Prof arrived a meter or two away from it, the teddy bear wannabe tried its previous trick and tried to run through between Prof''s legs. Prof smashed down, and as a result of the hit, the raccoon interrupted the attack and ran to one of the room¡¯s walls. Prof followed slowly, and the former situation repeated itself: as soon as Prof was a meter or two away, the raccoon rushed over and tried to run between Prof''s legs.


    This time it did succeed, but Prof was prepared for the teddy bear to play face-hugger again, spun around, and hit his opponent while jumping.


    The dance continued for another quarter of an hour, Prof approached the raccoon, it tried to run between his legs to jump on his back, and if it failed, it ran to the opposite wall and it all started all over again. Although Prof could almost always prevent the teddy bear from jumping on his back - the only time he failed to do so he tried to hit his opponent hanging on his helmet with a knife, which ran again after the first hit - he could barely make a hit on his own.


    Prof began to get tired when, in one of the charges, he was not only able to prevent the running and bouncing around but was finally able to achieve a spectacular critical hit: the raccoon flew back against the wall and was visibly stunned for a few moments. Prof didn''t hesitate, he jumped in and released a flood of attacks on the fur-ball. He cut off its head with his last blow, and so the Boss of the dungeon ended his career - at least against Prof.


    Although Prof planned to skin the raccoon and let someone make a fashionable collar for himself, he had to realize that the fur was ruined during the fight. It was a pity. After a short rest, Prof set out to search the room. The weed that he saw in the grass turned out to be the herb he was looking for, and on closer inspection Prof recognized it ¡ª he didn''t remember what its name was and what it was used for, but he knew for sure that he had previously an encounter with it.


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    Unfortunately, he could only collect four portions in the whole room, but according to his calculations, this also meant a value of at least about ten silver. Apparently, there was no other value in the room, so Prof set out to look around the previously undiscovered passages of the maze when, in the absence of a better word, his Scavenger Perk began tingling.


    Searching near the stone tub, he found the object that the raccoon had initially cleaned, fallen into a small fissure: a five-centimeter, silver-plated bronze statue of a proud, fully-armored warrior. Prof immediately recognized that this figure also belonged to the same set of game pieces as the one found in the previous dungeon. As he put it away, he wondered why there were such figures in the dungeons, exactly what game they belonged to, and how many additional figures the set consisted of. The thought didn''t even end when the red exclamation mark began to flash:


    Attention!


    During your adventures, you found some figures belonging to a mysterious and priceless game. Collect the entire set, the game board, and the description of the rules of the game! Game on!


    Discovered so far: 2/48 figure, 0/4 board, 0/2 rule


    That was interesting. A System-generated Quest ¨C he haven¡¯t even heard of such, there was no quest log anywhere on his Parchment, and he had to write down every little task in his notebook. As far as he could tell, there was no Quest System implemented on Arkadia, and he still got a quest. Directly from the System for dungeon-loot?


    The other thing was, that he hadn''t heard about a "mysterious and priceless game" either that was somehow connected to the System and dungeons. Smallgrovewell wasn''t the center of the multiverse, but he had some suspicions, that if a System-generated Quest and "mysterious and priceless" loot existed, even the folks in the village would have heard about it. And finally: why did he receive the Quest after finding the second figurine, and not after the first one?


    Interesting wasn¡¯t the correct word, strange was better. Prof decided to keep his eyes open for further pieces, but he wasn¡¯t planning to go out of his way to collect them. Maybe he would ask around somewhere that was not the middle of an endless forest or a small village out in the great nowhere.


    Done with the deliberations he set out to map the rest of the dungeon. As it turned out, the undiscovered part was quite easy: a few corridors leading to the known parts and a couple of dead ends. Prof was grateful for this, as he didn''t have to deal with some ridiculous - but deadly - pet again, but was somewhat disappointed that he didn''t manage to find further loot. Even so, he still got pretty nice loot for his effort, even though he didn¡¯t recognize the mushrooms and didn¡¯t collect the different skins.


    Not as good as the first dungeon, but still. Probably with the skins, meat, and mushrooms the end sum would be even higher, but for that, he had to get intel from somewhere else.


    After leaving the dungeon tired and filthy, his first target was the spring. For the rest of the day, he scrubbed away the dirt, blood, and spores and who knows what that had accumulated during the dungeon from himself, his armor, and his clothes.


    At least he tried.


    As he suspected earlier, his pants were probably a total loss, most likely not even someone with a highly dedicated [Washing] Skill ¨C yes, such existed ¨C could get rid of all the filth. Why was it that in novels and games only durability degraded, but no one got dirty despite wading through knee-deep filth, blood, and guts? This was like reality. Oh, wait¡­


    Reality was cruel.


    If this continued, he would have to invest a lot of money into his wardrobe. For that to happen, he would need money, but money didn¡¯t grow on trees, so he would have to ruin his clothing to earn money to buy clothing because his previous ones got ruined because he had to crawl through dungeons to earn money to buy new stuff.


    A vicious, unending cycle.


    He also rubbed disinfectant ointment into his skin to get rid of any remaining pollen, spores, or whatnot. Since Arkadia was real, it was probably not a good idea to leave dirt and unknown stuff near an open wound. That would be the best way to contact¡­ things that made you sick and die horribly. No, thank you, Prof planned to live his new life a bit longer than a month or so. OK, dying because a skeleton bashed in his head or a Dire Something ate him was one thing, but microscopic, genocidal thingies another.


    It was getting dark by the time he could spread his stuff out to dry so he could finally have dinner by the campfire. He had at least one more day before Shinead returned, planning to spend that time doing nothing and lazing around. Who knows when he''ll have a chance again?

 Chapter 5: Meeting folks. And Bears Part 1

    Against his plans, Prof decided the next day to collect firewood ¡ª the amount the elves had prepared was running out, and Prof thought it would have been rude to leave the stock gone if somehow Shinead returned early and they needed to leave urgently.


    Being rude to folks who were known to kick out the teeth of everyone who was not an elf was a good way to provide dentists with a steady income. Not that he heard about dentists on Arkadia yet. After a brief deliberation, he put on his armor and took his weapons too. After all, he was alone in a completely unknown, deep forest. True, when they ran through the forest with Shinead, they did not encounter any dangerous wildlife - in fact, no wildlife at all - but that meant nothing: every living thing that evolved through natural selection heard them from afar and pissed off.


    As it turned out, he made the right decision. He had barely begun collecting firewood when he heard a huge roar from the other end of the hazelnut grove - he was never good with animal sounds (and now his Skills reflected that low skill), but it sounded like a big cat or a bear. Maybe a shark. The roar was followed by a few shouts, then a series of crackles, as if something big was wading through botany.


    Prof sighed: so much for the rest. He dropped the collected firewood and set off at full speed in the direction of the sounds, hoping the monster would be manageable.


    On the other side of the hazelnut grove, a breathtaking sight unfolded before his eyes: a woman dressed in fur jumped, bounced, somersaulted around, over, and next to a huge bear, trying to abuse her opponent with her ¨C not easily recognizable ¨C blades. Calling the bear ¡°huge¡± was even downplaying the size: even when standing on four legs, it was a good head taller than Prof, who wasn¡¯t a short man himself, and when it stood up it could have been at least twice as high. Prof didn''t even dare to guess its weight, but he wouldn''t have been surprised if a grown-up lower-middle-class car would have been lighter.


    One blow or bite, and the bouncing woman would have been done for. Taking a closer look, Prof realized that the woman was not dressed in fur (there was specifically little textile on her), but was wearing her own fur ¨C that is, she was not even approximately Human. This impression was reinforced by her tail, strange legs, and animal features.


    Prof did not hesitate, he threw himself into the fight. Maybe the woman (assuming she was one, Prof became less and less sure of that) wasn''t nearly human, but at least she was an intelligent creature which couldn''t be said about the ¨¹ber-bear? Besides, it was at least a real bear, not a cute face-hugger raccoon¡­


    Getting nearer, he somehow knew, he met a Dire Bear ¨C probably one of his not-so-high Skills informed him. From his own Earth knowledge, he would have guessed a Cave Bear and was curious if Dire Bears and Earth-Cave Bears were the same or two different species here on Arkadia. He had already met a Dire Wolf and probably a Dire Rat in the dungeon and now a Dire Bear, and was wondering when he would have to deal with a Dire Rabbit or a Dire Weasel.


    Were Dire Wyverns a thing?


    Done with scientific deliberations, he assaulted the bear with a loud shout. The moment Prof caught the bear''s attention, the other fighter jumped back a few meters, began to murmur something in some unfamiliar language, made intricate hand gestures, and finally tossed a withered piece of root toward the moving bedspread. Prof assumed he saw a spell, not an average driver from South and/or East of the Alps, and hoped something useful or even awesome would happen.


    Well, nothing happened.


    The mage shouted something in a foreign language, which could have been interpreted as a curse, and began to murmur and gesture again. This time, the spell was probably successful as tendrils burst out of the ground and entangled the bear¡¯s legs. Prof had already learned that it was much easier to beat the heads of stationary opponents, but his smile quickly faded as the bear tore the roots without too much effort.


    In the absence of any other option, he set out to attack the bear''s eyes - a blind opponent was probably as easy to insult as an immobile one. Although he managed to take out the bear''s left eye relatively fast, it managed to get a hit in too, causing Prof to fly in a ballistic arc into the hazel bushes. Prof wasn''t at full HP, to begin with, and he lost another sixty right away from that one hit! With the remaining twenty HP it would have been suicide to experiment further, so he had to sacrifice one of his potions. Which, as he realized, remained in the camp, along with most of his other stuff.


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    As he staggered back to the battlefield, he noticed the woman jumping around the bear again. Prof tried something:


    "I need some potions to continue!" He shouted at her.


    ¡°Among the bushes! Bag!¡± She shouted back, not interrupting the circus attraction. Based on the voice, she could really have been a woman, and at least she spoke Bergian. On the other hand, given that they were in a forest and on the edge of a grove of hazelnut bushes, the place where the bag could be found was somewhat generously defined.


    Prof quickly looked around some of the bushes and could almost imagine the rolling of dice in the background ¡ª and with great luck, he just sensed the sharp yellow messenger bag and a few other packs under one of the bushes. Opening the pack he found a lot of vials and potions, but most of them didn''t have the classic red color of Health Potions. Prof took two thirty and one ten HP potions, downed the first two, pocketed the third, and threw himself back into the fight again.


    The woman backed out of the melee again and tried to cast a spell again - the result was a hail of thorns. Prof doubted the thorns would deal too much damage through the bear''s thick fur, but each HP counted against something that had the word "Dire" in its species description.


    Unfortunately, there were indications that the bear''s skull was, if not armored, at least protected by thick bone, at least a good portion of Prof''s blows simply bounced off. Prof tried to stay in the dead spot on the left side of the Dire Bear, so he couldn''t attack its right eye. The bear, of course, tried to keep an eye on Prof, so the result was that the fighters rotated around each other, while the woman tried to deal damage with totally ineffective spells, roughly half of which were not even cast properly and did nothing.


    How incredible help is the HP bar above your enemy''s head in games! With it, you just know how far you have to go! In contrast, in reality, no one has an idea how much longer you have to pummel an angry bear for it to leave for the eternal hunting grounds!


    ¡°Fifty more HP!¡± She shouted. Ok, not a health bar, but it was helpful if someone had the [Observe] Skill on a high enough level. Did everyone train it up?! With the information, Prof could at least roughly estimate how long he still had to thresh the overgrown teddy bear''s head. The info, on the other hand, did not save Prof from flying into the botany again.


    Prof lost fifty-five HP this time. He drank his last potion, and with his pathetic thirty-five HP, he threw himself into the fight again. The woman, too, stopped her useless quackery and returned to manual bear slicing.


    ¡°I''ll take the front!¡± Cried Prof, and began raining hits on the bear''s head like a whirlwind. Despite all his efforts, he couldn''t avoid the bear''s third hit, luckily the damage wasn''t too high, he only lost twenty HP, yet he staggered back. If the bear would have thrown itself on him at that moment, Prof''s adventures would have surely ended - but the hairy mountain of muscles didn''t move after him, but turned against the woman chopping at its hind legs.


    This gave Prof just enough time to find his balance put everything on one card and storm the Dire Bear¡¯s head. The simultaneous blow of the two axes was enough for the bear to finally collapse.


    From the other side of the mountain of hair, muscle, and flesh, the woman watched Prof in combat readiness, apparently not knowing if the fight was over or just the first act finished. Prof finally had the opportunity to take a close look: the woman was one head lower than Prof - but still taller than Shinead ¨C with the pointed ears of an Elf, hairless face, but pointed jaws, with surprisingly small canines in them.


    The whole face looked like a wolf, but it still had something decidedly human- (or elf) like. Prof already had problems guessing an Elf''s age, now, with a part-wolf, he was totally lost, but had a distinct feeling, the woman was of middle age. What Prof thought first as fur, was in reality only party that, and partly a pelt, the woman''s upper body was covered with a short-sleeved, body-fitting wolf-hair sweater, wearing similar shorts on her legs.


    Her forearms and lower legs, however, were really covered in fur. The few pieces of textile he had previously thought of as her only clothing (a chest wrap and a token loincloth) were actually just trimmings on the sweater and shorts. She wore no footwear, instead walking on her toes like a dog or cat. Her hair, or rather her mane, reached the middle of her back. As gear, there were a few leather bags attached to the belt holding the loincloth, and she carried interesting weapons: three roughly fifteen-centimeter long, razor-sharp, curved blades attached to her wrists and hands.


    ¡°Ma''am, my name is Ferenc Hegyesi, but everyone calls me Prof. Who you may be?¡± Prof bowed, sliding his axes back into their holders.


    ¡°My name is Foxy Delahaye, an adept at the High King''s Academy. Thank you for the help, I owe you." Foxy bowed, too. Like Shinead, she spoke Bergian with a strong accent, but unlike the elf''s melodious one, she was almost barking. Prof was half expecting complicated hand gestures and the long sentences in Elvish but was spared both. Foxy began to take the blades off her hands and headed for her bags.


    ¡°I''m surprised to meet a Human here in Red Territory, and you''re not even trying to hide, but even helped a stranger in trouble!¡±


    ¡°Of course, I will help all sapient beings in trouble!" "Prof didn''t really understand why he wouldn''t have helped.


    ¡°I see, and what about compensation?¡±


    ¡°What do you mean? I took three potions from you, if you want I can give you three in exchange at the camp. True, they only cure forty HP in total. The loot, we split in the middle, I think.¡±


    ¡°I mean, how much do I have to pay you for the help!¡± the wolf creature apparently did not have the same conversation as Prof.

 Chapter 5: Meeting folks. And Bears Part 2

    Prof looked puzzled for a moment.


    ¡°Oh! Thank you, but I''m not asking for payment for this. The loot we halve¡­¡±


    ¡°I understand. How do we halve? Weight, value, volume, necessity?¡±


    ¡°Doesn''t it work as we halve in value and what no one needs or wants, will be sold in the first settlement and the money split?"


    ¡°Young man, where have you lived so far? I''m surprised your Guild has not yet explained the various loot contracts! What negligence!" Foxy, meanwhile, gathered her belongings and put on a half-coat leather jacket, and put a straw hat over her head. The overall impression she gave fully clothed became interesting and somewhat disturbing.


    ¡°Ma''am, I''m not, and I''ve never been, in a guild. My loot experience so far is somewhat limited, but I think the loot halved in value works well for everyone.¡±


    ¡°Strange, strange. Very high combat skills while being low-level. Agility ??and Dexterity at seventeen or eighteen, educated speech, and nothing to do with Guilds. Strange, strange. In addition, limited loot experience. One would expect the Guilds to line up to let you join them, young Human!¡±


    All the TV detectives of the past fifteen to twenty years could have hidden behind Foxy''s talent. Based on a short few minutes of fighting, and the few sentences spoken, she determined Prof''s values ??quite accurately and realized some interesting contradictions.


    ¡°I have two theories!¡± Foxy continued. "Either you grew up in a cave but I think this is less likely based on your education, or you are a Traveller! Young Human, which is true, I await your reply!¡±


    ¡°Honestly, I have no idea who or what Travellers are, but I''m sure I didn''t grow up in a cave, no matter how much an acquaintance of mine thinks so!¡±


    ¡°Are you saying you weren''t born in another world and came to Arkadia because of some sort of "choice"? Let me hear the answer!" ¨C that was fast. At Smallgrovewell, no one asked the question for a month, although Prof told it to Kendrik and assumed that both the Lady and Captain Bela had guessed where he came from. And the wolf creature figured it out on her own in a few minutes and confronted him about it. Not bad.


    ¡°You''re right, I wasn''t born in this world, I''ve been here for about a month."


    ¡°I knew it! What a research opportunity! Young Human, I will give up my share of the loot for this, if I can come with you! Such an opportunity is so rare! We know so little about other worlds, about the choices, about everything! Tell me!¡±


    Prof couldn''t decide if it was a good thing to be uprated from a hobo suspected of being a highwayman to a bacillus, or a rare animal that needs to be studied. Hopefully, the research didn''t involve live autopsy or anal probes.


    ¡°All right, but then I have some requests too. First of all, everyone calls me a Prof, not a young Human, and I don¡¯t think there is too much age difference between us. Secondly, I would be happy to hear all the basic knowledge about Arkadia that I probably missed in the last month. Shinead is not the best talking partner and most of the time she just insults me. Third, if you come with me, everyone has to do an equal share of the work. Is this acceptable?¡±


    ¡°All right, Prof. The age difference is an interesting thing, I''m thirty-five years old, which is seen as a good age for my people. How old are you exactly?¡±


    ¡°Twenty-two here on Arkadia, and I was thirty-five back home.¡±


    ¡°Strange, strange. Two worlds of different ages! Tell me more!"


    "Okay, but let''s process this bear first. Too bad most of it will be wasted!¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°The previous monster I overcame was practically completely processed by my comrade at the time, and we were close to a village where they could preserve or further process everything. Here, in the middle of the forest, it will be difficult, especially since my Skills are not very high either.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm¡­ Let''s see. I hazard no one ever showed you how to share your character parchment? As I guessed. It¡¯s just a little mental exercise: focus on your character parchment and the person you want to show it to. Like I did now.¡±


    Suddenly, the character parchment of the Level 5 half wolf-half Yellow Elf appeared before Prof¡¯s mental eyes.


    At least Prof found out why the woman was so bad with combat spells: her [Floramancy] Skill sat at only 60%. After a few tries, Prof sent his own character parchment and compared their respective Skills in Dire Bear harvesting. Prof was better in [Hunting], Foxy in [Cooking], and [Repair: Leather]. Unfortunately, all of their Skills that had anything to do with butchering an animal were all well below 100%.


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    Prof wasn''t sure how the "everyday use knowledge" of a Skill of around 50% translated to the real-life difficulty of dressing and skinning a Dire Bear. After all, that was not "everyday knowledge". He feared they would waste a lot of expensive parts (or get only lower quality) and at worst fail to get the really valuable parts at all.


    Not that any of the two really knew what part of the bear could be sold to an Alchemist¡­ Preserving the loot until they reached the next settlement to sell it was another problem. They had nothing to preserve the meat with, and Prof wasn''t confident they could build a smoking shack on the fly either. With a deep sigh, Prof pulled out his hunting knife and set out to dress the corpse.


    About two hours later, they were dripping in blood as they surveyed their haul (in Foxy¡¯s case somewhat impatiently): Contrary to Prof''s expectation, they managed to save the entire fur, which was accompanied by nearly a hundred portions of meat and enough cuttings for a few meals, all of the bear''s claws and the complete skull.


    Prof bet most of the bones could have been used for some potions, but neither he nor Foxy was sure which bone could be used and how much it could be sold for. Having already problems transporting and preserving the skin and the meat, Prof eventually took only the hind femurs, planning to take them if they could make room for them. They should have buried the dismantled corpse, but they realized, neither one of them had a spade. Prof eventually pulled the carcass into a shallow hole and threw some stones, branches, and shrubs on it.


    They were sure that if they didn''t preserve the meat somehow, the whole thing would rot, but they didn''t have enough salt or were skilled enough to make a smoking shack. Eventually, they agreed that Foxy would try to pre-fry the meat, and hoped it would be good for a few days at least. While preparing, Prof accidentally noticed that the half-blood had a very useful object, the possession of which she had not advertised so far:


    ¡°Foxy, you have a Bottomless Bag?!¡± He poked at the belly-bag-like container.


    ¡°Unfortunately, it''s not bottomless, and it¡¯s called a Bag of Holding.¡± Foxy was obviously not happy that Prof spotted the bag ¡°It only can store a finite amount. Are there bottomless bags in your world?¡±


    ¡°No, there is no magic there. Bags of Holding, flying carpets, and other stuff only exist in fairy tales and legends. How do the bags work here?"


    ¡°They are bigger inside than outside and reduce the weight of things. Mine is about four times the size on the inside and a quarter the weight of the stuff I put in. The volume difference of real masterpieces is twenty, or even thirty-three, while the weight is cut to a tenth or a fifteenth, but they are inherently expensive. Why, do you want to take it?"


    ¡°No, of course not! Can you use it for preservation?¡±


    ¡°If you ask if the bear meat will spoil in there, the answer is no. There is no time inside the bag.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm¡­ If the bag is this big and a portion of meat is this size, I''d say it fits about six portions. What do you think?¡±


    ¡°You''re not good at arithmetic, Prof. Or you can''t pack. It can hold twelve portions.¡±


    After some discussion, they agreed to put the most valuable pieces of meat into the bag and pre-fry only the rest.


    The results of a cooking spree, stretching into the late afternoon proved that 72% in [Cooking] was far from enough to pre-fry a Dire Bear. Two-thirds of their attempts resulted in burned, half-burned, over-fried, under-fried, and otherwise unusable pieces of meat. Eventually, they were glad to have successfully made twenty-five portions of pre-fried meat left, which they hoped to have a shelf-life of a week.


    Prof took the scrap back to the remains of the bear and dredged some of the loose earth over it. Back on Earth the Food Safety Agency and the Forestry Service (and a couple of environmental activists) would be on his back in no time, here he had to deal only with Red Elves. He couldn''t decide, which was worse.


    As for the price, he estimated that at around forty-fifty copper list price per portion, they could get half of that from a trader for the pre-fried meat ¨C if it didn''t spoil completely till then ¨C, a little more for the "frozen" part, meaning the whole pile could be sold for somewhere between eight and nine silvers. Processing the skin ran into similar problems as preserving the meat: they didn''t have enough salt to finish it. And didn''t know how to start to begin with. Finally, they washed and scraped the excess material away somewhat and hung the skin up on a tree to dry.


    Foxy, of course, had been impatiently asking Prof all day about how he got to Arkadia, what Earth was like, his life there, and all sorts of other things. As it turned out, although Prof remembered a lot of things, he couldn''t formulate the answers to many things (maybe because he didn''t know how certain things worked, his corresponding Skills were too low or there were simply no words for them in Bergian). He couldn''t draw them (because of his low drawing Skills) or show them off.


    He already hated Activity back at home, but even the last minimal entertainment factor disappeared, as soon as the other party didn''t know most of the words and concepts, and the drawing-pointing party had mental barriers for explaining them ¨C even if he knew the concepts back on Earth. Surprisingly, not many people on Earth do know how steam engines, solar panels, electricity, airplanes, or nukes worked. They heard about stuff, even used it, but had not the faintest idea how it worked.


    As someone once said: I only ride ''em, I don''t know what makes ''em work. Interestingly, Foxy wasn''t upset about the lack of answers, but on the contrary, by not being able to give an answer, Prof seemed to prove a theory. Toward the end of the day, Foxy changed how she asked the questions, instead of asking for an essay, she asked yes-or-no-questions. The situation was getting better but in no way perfect: Prof could answer with yes or no, but Foxy lacked Earth knowledge to know what to ask about in detail.


    By the evening, Foxy ran out of questions - or got tired of the questioning - and retired to sleep. Prof tidied up the place before going to wash and going to bed.

 Chapter 5: Meeting folks. And Bears Part 3

    The next morning, during breakfast (roasted Dire Bear) Prof remembered that he had some unknown magical items.


    ¡°Foxy, I found some magical items in my first dungeon. Common sense and a lot of folks told me not to equip unknown stuff, and if I¡¯m correct, a mage can identify them. Could you please take a look at them?¡±


    ¡°All right, show me! It¡¯s not a complicated thing, it¡¯s the very first thing we had to learn in school. For months, we had to identify all sorts of things over and over until we could do it in our sleep. For some reason, I loved it¡­ Let''s see!¡±


    Foxy murmured over the three objects for a few seconds, then handed them back and willed three mental parchments to appear before Prof, who immediately applied [Valuation] to the items.


    <u>Runner¡¯s Medal</u>


    The speed of the wearer is calculated as one higher than the speed resulting from the Stat.


    Value: 10 silver


    <u>Necromancer¡¯s Bone Ring</u>


    The wearer of the ring can cast all Necromancy spells with slightly higher strength for the same cost.


    Value: 15 silver


    <u>Anti-Poisoning Ring</u>


    The health of the wearer is considered to be five times higher against all forms of poisoning.


    Value: 20 silver.


    Prof equipped the first and last immediately, a little extra speed and poison resistance didn''t hurt anyone yet. The necromancer ring could not be used by any of his teammates, but he did not want to sell it yet. It didn¡¯t take up much space.


    Eventually, he also showed Foxy the mushrooms he found in the dungeon. It turned out that one was really food, the other from which he collected a lot could be used to extract a weak poison from, but neither was really valuable. One of the four unknowns was a drug, and it was illegal in the Elven Domain, another might have been what Shinead had drawn his attention to, and could be used in a variety of potions. The third could produce ink, but it didn''t last long after harvested, so it was virtually worthless to Prof, and the fourth didn''t have any special features at all.


    Prof couldn¡¯t really decide if it made sense to go back into the dungeon for another looting tour ¨C they couldn¡¯t preserve the rabbit skins, the mushrooms only made sense in larger quantities (and it was questionable whether they could withstand transport), only the rabbit horns and crystals represented non-perishable value. Prof, however, was reluctant to fight through the mossy hall, narrow corridors, and the like again.


    Finally, he asked Foxy for her opinion. The half-blood mage was also not thrilled with the idea, so after convincing themselves they didn¡¯t want to go into the dungeon, they spent the day lazing around and talking. This time, for the most part, Foxy answered Prof''s questions.


    ¡°No, we don''t see our Character Parchments from birth. Everyone gets it at the end of their teens, with Humans this is the sixteenth birthday, if I recall correctly, with other species, initiation is linked to another birthday, of course. For example, I got access to my Parchment on my sixteenth birthday."


    ¡°The experience gained before the initiation is only reflected in the Skills and Perks, and only from the initiation are you counted as Level 1. There are very few who start their adult lives as Level 2, Level 3 beginners exist almost exclusively in legends, I don''t think there has ever been an example of a Level 4 beginner. The general theory is that younger people would not be able to make responsible decisions. Personally, I''m not sure a sixteen or even thirty-six-year-old can definitely make a responsible decision, but well, I didn''t invent the rules."


    ¡°At the initiation, the Character Parchment makes suggestions for the Highlighted Skills and Stats, based on the new initiate''s life so far, two of the former can be changed freely, and in the latter, each value can be reduced or increased by one point ¨C but the end-score can not be higher. It also informs about the collected Perks so far ¨C mostly three to five, but more are rare. In addition, everyone will receive three more points as a gift, which they are free to use for Stats or Perks, or even to remove negative Perks."


    "Everyone can buy new Perks, be they positive or negative without limit, provided their values are equal or they have to pay for the difference with free points or possibly with lower Stats. Most of the people I''ve met so far haven''t done this, however, mostly just buy a few positive Perks. Most just get rid of their negative ones, without spending extra Points for new positive ones ¨C at that point, they would have to pay with lowered Stats. I am a rare exception, I bought all my Chi-talent this way."


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    ¡°It is customary for a child to be sent to someone who can look at their pseudo-parchment at least half a year before initiation, who will explain to them what to expect, help them decide what they are suitable for, and give suggestions on what will need to be changed to achieve their purpose in life.¡±


    ¡°Leveling is a huge secret, indeed. The elves did some experiments in the past, I read some studies about it. According to their theory, the population can be grouped into three categories: commoners, adventurers, and heroes. All three groups apply the concept called "Experience Points" differently, and for different reasons. If they collect enough, the leveling will take place. The whole theory is unproven since it is not possible to tell which group they belong to! It''s just a conjecture based on how fast one levels in his chosen occupation."


    ¡°One theory says, it is decided at birth, another claim that a person''s own decisions or lifestyle determine the category. It is a fact that Adventurers - the occupation, not the category! ¨C reach a higher level in most cases than, say, bakers. It is unknown, of course, if they will be higher Level because they are constantly killing every creature that gets in their way, they will become Adventurers because they fall in the higher categories, or they will fall into higher categories because they are Adventurers. The experiments only suggest that we have the categories, everything else is just theory."


    ¡°I know Humans have quite a few theories about this too, as do Dwarves and the Undead. Some of these, I think, are utter nonsense, especially those that link Leveling to the Heavenly Game Master or other abstract concepts. Even the Ork''s belief, that overcoming as many higher leveled creatures as possible is the fastest way to level is more rational. After all the elves came to comparable results with their experiments, at least in terms of higher categories."


    ¡°I rule out that any sensible person would believe in supernatural beings, why would he? Why should an abstract concept, a natural phenomenon, be personified? What sense would make to bring sacrifices for him if his help was questionable at best? The same could be given to someone who can prove with their Character Parchment that they are fit to perform the task and is willing to do it. The problem will thus more likely be accomplished than if time and valuables ??were wasted waiting for some non-existent entity to have mercy on you.¡±


    ¡°No one expects the legendary heroes of ancient times to come out of the grave and solve problems. They are just role models for later generations and are decorative elements on ostentatious buildings. Yes, like Gheorgious the Great, Fiona the Fast, and others. If you want to believe in something, there''s the local Lord, magister, clan leader, they really solve the problems, that''s why they are there."


    ¡°The only exception is the Heavenly Game Master. He is certainly more than a simple mortal, and his existence can be proven by the existence of Character Parchments. Except for a few lunatics, I don''t think anyone would expect intervention or help from him. According to all philosophical schools, if the Heavenly Game Master wanted to intervene in the events of Arkadia through some "Chosen One", he would be able to prove it with his Character Parchment. Be it a Perk or a hitherto unknown Skill."


    "Those who had tried to establish themselves as ¡°Chosen Ones¡± so far did not have one of those, but they did have things like Severe Mental Illness, Bluff Master, Impudent, Liar and their [Con] or [Convincing] Skill was high too.¡±


    Shinead hasn''t returned that day or the next. Prof wasn''t too worried yet, after all, she had warned him in advance that it could take up to a week for her to return. On the fifth day, however, he found himself watching the path through the hazelnut grove, and Foxy became more and more impatient, even if they had no other urgent matter to attend to.


    But, at least Prof learned a lot about Arkadia, the things folks figured out about the rules in thousands of years, which, annoyingly were not included in the Rule Book he read and the Elves in particular. According to Foxy, Elves were not the original inhabitants of Arkadia, not even the second, but probably around the sixth. Humans, on the other hand, weren''t the latest addition (at least as far as could be determined), the Greenskins came millennia later, and lately the Lizardfolk in the south.


    Elves were not a monolithic species either (Shinead told him so already), but a conglomerate of different races with the ability to cross-breed ¨C interestingly, Humans and Elves could cross-breed in certain cases, but the practice was frowned upon by both sides, and Elves could not cross-breed with other species. Humans could do it with almost everything. Prof was informed, there were Centaurs on Arkadia, but shut down that discussion immediately.


    Besides the seven "true" Elven races (Red, Yellow, Green, Blue, White, Silver, and Black) there were the three Beastkin races (Foxes, Wolves, and Cats) that were called Brown Elves (the word for each one in Elvish was different, but could not be translated into Bergian), Pixies (the best appropriation was "Glitter Elves") and Sirens (also called Blue, but with another meaning). Prof wondered if the whole conglomerate should be called Fae, but Foxy informed him, that those were a completely different race, mostly extinct, called the Grey or Shadow Elves.


    The inner political landscape of the Domain was so chaotic and incomprehensible for Prof, that Foxy gave up on teaching him. Obviously, there were Princes and Clans and Lords of certain territories, but their structure was horizontal and not vertical like in Human lands. Only the High King could, theoretically, command everyone, except for¡­


    This was the point, Prof got a splitting headache. But at least he got a few Points in [Culture: Elven], [Politics: Elven], and a few other Skills.


    On the sixth day, however, Prof began to worry seriously ¨C after all, it was the day before the last, and Shinead set the lower limit for her return at two days. In the afternoon he took a short walk down the path but found nothing. On the afternoon of the seventh day, Shinead still hadn''t returned, so Prof realized with a heavy heart that he probably wouldn''t even see her again. He decided with Foxy that they would head for the cart trail the next morning and then spent several hours deciding where to go afterward.

 Chapter 5: Meeting folks. And Bears Part 4

    Neither of them had anything important to do, Prof did what he wanted (as long he found enough money in some murder hole), he had no obligations or connections, and Foxy was practically sent on "extended research leave" from the Academy. The circumstances were not entirely clear to Prof, but the gist was that there were some deaths and no one would have shed a tear if Foxy never returned.


    Because the Academy was located in the yellow capital, the west wasn¡¯t exactly a good option for Foxy, and from there further to the West lay the territory of the Greens, who weren¡¯t overly friendly to stray tourists in their woods (but that was common to most other Elves), then came some dangerous territory and finally Greenskins.


    The eastern direction did not interest Prof too much, he spent his whole life in Human society, so if he had arrived in such a magical place, he wanted to see unknown species and their cities. Eventually, they decided to head West anyway, look for the market town or marketplace that should be somewhere in the area, and then see what opportunities they had in the North and South. In addition, Prof needed some money ¨C the bear meat inevitably spoiled ¨C for some purchases.


    For a longer trip, it wouldn¡¯t have hurt to have a horse (or rather two: one for riding, one for the pack), a few spare pieces of clothing (that were not leftovers from a peasant-cosplay-con), a complete set of camping gear, food, and drinks, and, as the previous example showed, he needed to raise one or two of his Skills.


    Doing some quick calculations, he realized, he would need at least sixty-five silver, not counting Health Potions and training. If he had managed to sell his loot from the last dungeon and the "refrigerated" bear meat for good money, and counting all his cash he might be able to scratch enough together. And would be broke. Even if he included the various jewelry he kept, he would not have much money left for Potions. And for accommodation. And training. And spending money for the near future.


    Since he wasn¡¯t planning on selling his last liquid assets, he was forced to go into his dungeon again ¨C this time he didn¡¯t plan for a full clear, only the rabbit horns and the crystals in one of the rooms in the maze interested him. He didn¡¯t even plan to kill the ¨¹ber-rat in the mossy room. Leaving most of his belongings behind, he started his quick raid before dark, reassuring Foxy that he would return in an hour or two.


    Since he was already familiar with the dungeon''s tricks, he was not surprised by the traps, the rabbit''s charge, the intoxicating evaporation of the mossy room, or the dead ends of the maze. What was disappointing, however, was that the crystals were much smaller than in his first run. Prof could not decide if that was because they could not yet be replaced to their previous size, or after the first run, there were fewer rewards for enterprising Adventurers. Even so, he managed to collect loot worth roughly twenty pieces of silver, and that was enough to cover much of the cost of potions.


    The next unpleasant surprise greeted Prof in the mossy rat room: this time the giant rat watched him attentively as he walked carefully over the moss blanket and the moment he headed for the exit, threw itself after him with a deafening scream. From the cave leading to the third room, the instant wild boar stew (with mushrooms!) came out, followed by that little bastard of a face-hugger raccoon. Obviously, the dungeon didn''t like someone just jumping in for a quick loot and leaving without saying goodbye.


    Prof knew he could have smashed any of the three animals on their own without much problem ¨C as he had done before ¨C but he didn''t give himself much of a chance against the three at once. Not to mention that there were normal-sized rats deep in the dungeon, that could show up anytime, anywhere. Prof hoped very strongly that the man-eating botany could not leave its room.


    It took a moment to make a decision: Prof executed a flexible disengagement and a tactical re-positioning ¨C that is, he started running towards the exit with full force. No matter how high his Agility was, ultimately two things saved him from having the cave-dwelling animals feast on him (preferably his corpse, being eaten alive wasn''t something you can build a successful spa on): his magical badge and the fact that he had the advantage of a few meters head-start.


    He still stumbled on the pitfall in front of the door, but instead of trying to catch himself, he put everything into the last jump. Tumble, is more likely. With his not-really Olympic-winner move, he cleared the door to the dungeon head first and rolled a couple of times before the entrance wall stopped him. The door to the bunker slammed angrily behind him as he got up.


    ¡°Foxy, I think the dungeon is a little upset that I didn''t go through all the rooms, I just made a run for a few things. Is this normal?¡± Prof asked as he left the cave.


    ¡°Upset how?¡±


    ¡°It sent all the monsters alive at me at once.¡±


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    ¡°It isn''t normal for something like this to happen, however, the vast majority of Adventurers wouldn''t have left the dungeon alive and told the tale. The accepted theories say dungeons have some intelligence, many say they feed on the energy emitted by Adventurers ¨C the longer they stay inside and the more they fight, the more energy the dungeon gets. If there is any truth in the theory, then by barely fighting, but taking the valuables away quickly, the dungeon will receive less energy than it spends creating treasures and monsters. Like all theories, this has its weaknesses, but it still makes more sense than to see the Heavenly Game Master''s plan in them."


    It sounded good as a theory, there were plenty of novels on Earth dealing with the inner life of the dungeons, and similar explanations were given there. Prof decided to avoid fast looting runs as much as possible in the future. At least in dungeons where man-eating plants, exploding pigs, and intoxicating mossy carpets were also present. Or anything like that. So, probably, in most of the dungeons.


    Prof was about to go back to the camp after cleaning himself when he noticed Shinead on the trail. Even from a distance, the girl was visibly covered with a layer of soot and dirt, and as she got closer, the tears in her clothes became visible too. Although she was carrying a huge backpack on her back and a sack in each of her hands, the empty-eyed staggering she did as a parody of walking was probably not caused by the load.


    ¡°Shinead! What happened? Are you okay? Give me the stuff! Come! You can wash in the spring here!"


    She didn''t even respond to Prof, though it wasn''t the previous arrogant disregard, but rather a broken indifference. Nor was she able to protest when Prof picked up the packs and led her to the spring. Prof wondered for a moment if he would survive the next few minutes if he helped Shinead wash, but when he saw the girl just staring at the water with an empty look, he decided to take the risk. He washed her face and hands at first but realized that there was dirt even under the torn peasant shirt.


    ¡°Shinead¡­ I remember you promised I would die slowly if I touched you, but you are dirty. Your clothes are also largely trash. You have two options: you can wash and change yourself, or I will undress and wash you myself. For that, I need to touch you. What should it be?"


    The girl was instantly pulled out of her total apathy, stared into Prof¡¯s eyes for a few moments, then took the soap out of his hand, dug out some clean clothes from her pack, and began to undress. Prof took this as a hint that she could handle the cleaning herself, and not a call to do the horizontal tango, so he picked up the packs and headed back to the camp.


    ¡°My friend just arrived!¡± he informed Foxy ¡°She is still cleaning by the spring, I will get some food ready. I think she will need to rest tomorrow, so we can head to the town the day after tomorrow. If you have no other plans."


    ¡°What kind of important plan can one have here in the middle of the woods? What kind of rest? We may not have any specific plans as of now, but we should be able to find something more meaningful when camping in the middle of the forest!¡±


    ¡°My friend came back from the clan territory, and she¡¯s pretty much exhausted...¡±


    ?From a clan territory?!? Do you know who has clan territories around here?!? And what are they famous for?!? Who managed to fuck you over like that?¡±


    Prof then realized he hadn''t told her anything about Shinead the whole time, Foxy didn''t even know they were waiting for a red elf.


    ¡°Accidentally, I can answer that. The Red Elves have territories in the area and are famous for kicking out the teeth of those who annoy them by existing. After that, they suffer an unexplained, fatal accident. Anyway, I am here because my friend is a Red Elf too, and managed to save her life and escorted her home."


    ¡°Your. Friend. Is. A. Red. Elf" Foxy spoke in the tone reserved for parents whose little dumbshit kid came home from the "special" school with the news, he got the Nobel Prize "Whose life you saved. Please tell me you didn''t give her a weapon!"


    ¡°Actually twice. First in the village a knife and a bow, and second I found her lost family dagger. Was that a bad idea?¡±


    ¡°Depends. If the Red in question takes it as an insult that he owes a majom, ??and that more than once¡­ No, you wouldn''t be alive in that case. On the other hand, there is a chance that the clan will consider it an insult that one of the members owes a majom. It all depends on how binding the clan feels the traditions are when it comes to a majom.¡±


    ¡°A Kl¨¢nom tiszteli a hagyom¨¢nyokat! ¨¦s elismeri a V¨¦rtartoz¨¢st!¡± The elf girl approached the camp unnoticed, with an intense stare, as if it was an insult to breathe the air with some lifeform even lower than Prof.


    ¡°Mivel ¨¦letben van, igazat mondasz. Bemutatkozhatok? Foxy Delahay a nevem. Benned kit tisztelhetek, Kishugom? ¡±


    Foxy straightened herself, head held high, fingers curved into claws.


    ¡°The Rabid?¡± at least the girls have returned to speak Bergian.

 Chapter 5: Meeting folks. And Bears, Part 5

    Shinead''s behavior changed, she was able to collect herself for a short time, but now she began to fall back into apathy.


    ¡°Some people know me by that name, yes.¡±


    Shinead immediately bowed with spread arms and fingers locked in the strange positions Prof have already seen.


    ¡°My name is Shinead Sidhe, of the blood of Fiona the Fast, a scout for the Gyors Ny¨ªlvessz? Clan¡­ At least I was, the clan no longer exists.¡±


    ¡°What? We were late?¡±


    ¡°It seems, we were late even when we left the village. If I understood the traces correctly, the attack started around the time when you found me on the bank of the lake. In other words, everything was ready when I was attacked in the forest.¡±


    ¡°Someone destroyed a complete clan?¡± Foxy interrupted. ¡°That¡¯s unprecedented!¡±


    ¡°Not unprecedented, but very rare.¡±


    ¡°Let''s start from the beginning! Tell me everything!¡±


    "I agree with Foxy, her [Investigation] is way higher than ours, and I''m sure she''ll find connections that escaped our attention.¡±


    Shinead was either no longer interested in anything or somehow acknowledged Foxy (or even possibly Prof) as her superior, as without further ado she told her everything they had learned since Smallgrovewell.


    As it turned out, the clan''s settlement had been destroyed by surprise by a highly trained mercenary company, or an army unit, which did not fit their earlier theory of the Yellows being behind the attack. And according to both girls, it was impossible that Elves attacked Elves. To Prof''s suggestion that maybe Humans disguised themselves as Elves, he was laughed at. They told him, that camping habits, movement, fighting, damage, and general behavior are so different that neither species could credibly imitate the other against a more or less knowledgeable tracker.


    Moreover, since they apparently did not expect to leave survivors who could later examine the traces, there would have been no reason to disguise themselves - and if there had been a survivor during the attack, it would have been pointless to leave false clues behind.


    Shinead spent most of her time burying the dead and saving usable valuables. Although most of the clan''s treasures were taken away by the attackers, several hidden places, known only to few, remained, and by chance, the girl even found most of the clan''s regalia. By the end of the narration, Foxy was already walking up and down, deep in thought. Eventually, she started asking questions about the battlefield, the hiding places, and the regalia.


    ¡°Your conclusions were probably false," she said at last. ¡°The existence of a spy is unproven, and for now I don¡¯t find it probable. If there had been such a spy, most of the hidden treasures would have been taken away by the attackers, and they would not have left without the seemingly not very valuable but important clan regalia."


    "In my opinion, you can also learn a lot with magic, and all indications point that at least two, but rather three or four Mages have collaborated with the attackers. I do not see it impossible that the Yellows knew about the attack or covertly supported it, but it is very unlikely that it was commissioned by the ruling circles. It is not customary to involve outsiders in Elven internal affairs, especially not to exterminate a Red Elf clan. Moreover, only disgraced, deported Elves would renounce the law of not attacking other Elves, and no one would talk to such filth anyway."


    ¡°If someone would have contacted and contracted outsiders or filth and it came to light, and I doubt it could be kept a secret, those in charge, their families, and their Clans could say goodbye to power forever. Even if they would be allowed to stay in the Domain. According to your theories, it would have been the goal of the Yellows to retain power, and ordering people to exterminate a Red Clan would be an even greater risk to them than the Red-Green-Blue Alliance to intervene in the South. Yellows are not as inflexible as you think.¡±


    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    ¡°What you are thinking is that Shinead was probably attacked by a more skilled elf, and that mage would have had to be on-site to open the transportation gate, as you can only open a gate safely to places you know personally. This can only be said about an elf. It is theoretically possible to open a gate to a place known only by description, but it requires a person who knows the place very well, knows the exact geographical location of the place, and also needs a highly trained mage."


    "I think it is likely that the elf who attacked Shinead knew the place and the mage opened the gate by description, and from not too far away. It is less likely, but possible, that the attacker and the mage are the same person. And the attack would not have been aimed at preventing a possible alliance, but at making money and/or simple revenge."


    ¡°The attack on Shinead in this case could easily have been motivated by revenge, either against Shinead personally, or against the Clan, or even the Reds or the entire Elven Domain. So we are looking for a person who has already been in the clan territory and had reason to exterminate the entire clan but was not interested in the clan regalia, that is, the survival of the clan. Do you know such a person, little sister?"


    "What do you mean by surviving of the Clan? Everyone is dead!¡± Shinead snapped.


    ¡°Everyone, except you. If I¡¯m not mistaken, there is no law or tradition against a single person carrying on a Clan as long as the regalia are there, or even for a single person to start a new one. In theory, you are now the head of the Clan.¡±


    ¡°With only one person, no one will take the clan seriously, no one will give us contracts, and it will be almost hopeless to hire new members! I wouldn¡¯t even be able to contract allies, no one would work for a ridiculous clan! Without contracts, a Clan is not a Clan!¡±


    ¡°Shinead, is there a custom for how much to pay for a contract, or how much does it cost to hire an ally?¡± Prof got an interesting little idea.


    ¡°No, there is no such custom. It is a matter of negotiations.¡±


    ¡°Then I''d like to make a contract with you: I''ll give you a silver for the head of the person who planned the attack. And I¡¯m willing to sign up to you as an ally for a year for a copper.¡±


    ¡°Wait!¡± Foxy interrupted. ¡°The whole loot would go to the Clan! Ask for an equal share!¡±


    ¡°All right, one copper and an equal share of the loot. Do you accept the terms and conditions?¡±


    ¡°Let me clarify: You would pay a silver for something I would do anyway, and you would ask for a copper and an equal share for what you would do anyway, all that while I¡¯m chained to you anyway because I owe it to you?¡±


    ¡°Yes, by and large. So you have a contract and an ally, so your clan is already in a better position.¡±


    ¡°Ezennel elfogadom a kontraktust a v¨¦rd¨ªjra a megbesz¨¦lt ?sszeeg¨¦rt! Ezennel elfogadom a csatl¨®si meg¨¢llapod¨¢st a megadott ?sszeg¨¦rt!¡±


    Shinead sealed their contract with some complicated hand gestures. Or sworn vengeance against Prof. Or commented on the weather. Prof was determined to learn some Elven or Elvish as a matter of urgency, he was sure he would miss some very important information otherwise.


    ¡°So touching.¡± Foxy rubbed her nose theatrically. ¡°Now that we are done with this, can we continue to find out who was responsible for the attack? Shinead, do you know of anyone who has been in the clan¡¯s territory and had reason to exterminate the entire clan, but was not interested in the clan¡¯s regalia, that is, the possible survival of the clan?¡±


    ¡°I found most of the clan members, the others were young hunters or scouts, and members of the service staff who wouldn¡¯t be able to defeat me alone. I don¡¯t know if any outsider had a reason to exterminate the clan.¡±


    The conversation then died down pretty slowly as they dozed off one after another.

 Interlude 1: Dungeoneering!, Part 1

    Zoli actually had quite a good life. True, that life was spent on a not-so-important planet in a hidden, not-too-significant solar system, the kind of planet that at the start of five-part trilogies is destroyed to make room for a space highway. He was a citizen of a not-very-important country on the planet, belonging to a not-very-important but mostly harmless species.


    Although Homo Sapiens Sapiens - the former species of Zoli - was found in many places in all the multiverses, their significance did not even make it into the Top 100. Truth be told, they were in the bottom third of the list (just above Goblins, Kobolds, Ratlings, and Lawyers), no matter how much people everywhere believed they were the crowns of creation.


    Despite his disability of coming from a boring little country in the ass-end of the multiverses, he did manage to have a comfortable and well-off life. Many called him evil, opportunistic, and prone to bullshitting his way through life, but these were the prerequisites for making a career ¨C in his case becoming the HR manager for the local branch of a multinational company at an age of 35.


    He worked hard: had to take a lot of coffee breaks, networking, attend meetings to discuss the next meeting''s topics, make his lowly wage slaves make colorful charts, and collect discriminating data on the other wage slaves of the company, so if some of his managed-buddies wanted to fire someone (just to make room for their current bed-warmer or one of their idiotic relatives) the company was on the safe side and could prove how bad a slave it was.


    He even had to attend "trainings" (i.e. drinking sessions with other managers) in high-class hotels with all expenses covered! He didn''t understand, why others had such a negative opinion of him and looked down on him. He even gave money to a charity and helped out in a foundation of one of his buddies once a year! Of course, not in the fieldwork, but in directing other volunteers.


    Everything counted, he had a nice and good life.


    That is until he died.


    No, he was not killed by a truck trying to save some random passerby. He wasn''t stabbed, shot, or exploded in some attacks. No airplane crashed onto his head, there was no train wreck and he didn''t even drown in a yachting accident. Nothing so pedestrian. His death was a bit more embarrassing: he suffered a heart attack while getting head from his secretary in the manager''s toilet, and while falling down, he cracked his skull on the porcelain throne.


    His last memory of Earth was his secretary, who tried to clean her dress frantically of the previous activities'' remains. Oh yeah, she was married¡­


    He didn''t know, what to expect from the afterlife, but a nice executive office with large windows showing a planet wasn''t in his expectations. Neither was an alien in a Hawaii shirt and slacks sitting behind a huge desk. It was vaguely Human-looking, with cream-colored skin, short, green hair, pointy ears, and small, sharp teeth.


    ¡°Ah, welcome, welcome! Dear Human, take a seat!" He (it?) waved a hand towards a small table and comfortable-looking leather armchairs. "Let me introduce myself, my name is Xdconfdsgnasdg, I''m the Administrator of this world, and I have a proposition for you. You could say, it''s a job offer."


    Let me guess, Zoli thought, a young and dynamic team, diverse and creative work, competitive salary, a pleasant atmosphere, and non-salary benefits. Dude, I¡¯m working for HR! No one believes that stuff anyway!


    However, he didn¡¯t say it out loud, just nodded.


    ¡°You see, I have a bit of a problem. I want to have the biggest and grandest dungeon in all the multiverses, so I asked the daughter of a friend to help me out. See, little Sandy is working for the Afterlife Administration Bureau, and although she is very enthusiastic, her competence is¡­ let¡¯s say, not on the same level.¡±


    Zoli didn''t really understand, why someone wanted the biggest and grandest prison in existence, but hey, every CEO had his hobbies. Collecting cars, having a large yacht, or other, not-so-legal stuff. Having a really big prison when you have a whole planet was just run-of-the-mill.


    ¡°See, I had this idea about an open-air dungeon in its own pocket dimension, so I asked her for the soul of an environmental engineer. The little shit I received was an engineer, yes ¨C a communication engineer, that is ¨C but an environmental activist.¡±


    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    Zoli was a bit confused. An open-air prison was another name for a prison camp, and why would someone need an environmental engineer for it, and not, say construction or a security one? But yes, getting an activist was never good. You had to dig deep and collect a lot of evidence to fire one, they gave bad press when fired.


    ¡°I spared no expenses! Gave her cheat powers, unlimited access to all of my monster species, even resurrected some extinct ones, bought a few others, and what did she do with all those?¡±


    Zoli still didn''t understand. And even less. Why would a prison camp need monsters? As guards, maybe? But if the camp was in its own dimension, why need guards in the first place? Something was fishy, or the honored CEO was batshit crazy. However, as long the job was well paid, the honored CEO was not crazy, but eccentric.


    ¡°SHE MADE MY DUNGEON INTO A WILDLIFE PRESERVE!!!" The honored planet-CEO was shouting at this point.


    Yes, that was bad. Delivering a wildlife preserve instead of a prison camp was really bad, Zoli wouldn''t need to make his underlings dig anymore, such a flagrant breach of contract would warrant immediate termination. That''s why you never hire activists, Zoli nodded.


    ¡°See? Even you agree! She even made a visitors center with slogans about protecting the environment, educational boards for the different species, and an endless propaganda speech from the loudspeaker telling how bad is to kill animals and plants!"


    ¡°With THAT I would have no real problem, disinformation in a dungeon is a good thing. The guided tours were questionable but maybe could have worked. BUT! The bitch made every monster unkillable, and even if one picked a pretty flower, the whole dungeon, including the guides, descended onto the perpetrator with extreme prejudice. No loot, certain death, and complete unfairness is not a way, how a dungeon works!"


    Zoli started to realize, the alien wasn''t talking about a prison. Obviously, it wasn''t a problem that the chick built a park, but that it wasn''t fair and killed folks too fast? If Zoli had even a little bit of RPG- or gaming experience, he would have realized it earlier: the dungeon in question was not the variety with small cells and an over-abundance of chains and torture, but the getting rich fast in exchange for mortal danger one.


    But Zoli had no such experience.


    ¡°She refused to open it to the general public! What good is a dungeon, even her shitty, worthless one, if it''s not open! She talked about the rights of animals and trees and pretty flowers! Refused to work according to the rules! Talked about how cruel and unsafe it would be! Refused to at least give out loot! Said, it would encourage animal abuse! That was the point, I created a Hell for my world, and put her into it as sole occupant!¡±


    ¡°So, I have now a not-working dungeon I have spared no expenses to create and no one to run said dungeon. This is where you come in, dear mortal Human.¡±


    Alarm bells were going off inside Zoli''s head. Would he be hired to recondition a wildlife preserve-prison camp into a fair killing ground and then run it?


    ¡°I posted a new application to Sandy and the AAB for someone with the ruthlessness and knowledge to run my dungeon, and make it into the biggest and grandest dungeon in all the multiverses! You were the first applicant I got. According to your file, you made the life of a lot of people a living hell, terminated a lot of others yourself, and been a committed, medium-ranked slave-driver for your overlords! That''s perfect!"


    Zoli would have used more politically correct terms, but the file was obviously correct. He was a medium-ranked manager in the company, and kept the interests of said company as his priority, even if the wage slaves couldn''t see the big picture and just complained. And yes, he has fired a lot of people for not working diligently enough and making mistakes that cost the company money, that could have been spent on further benefits for managers and the CEO.


    ¡°See this offer as a potential for a very long lasting, but easy and fulfilling job. You could meet a lot of people, albeit briefly, and could fulfill all your talents from your last life! By long term I mean as long you don''t retire or are fired ¨C potentially HUNDREDS of years! THOUSANDS! That is what I call job security! Wouldn''t you agree?"


    ¡°Or fired¡± was a flag for someone, who made a living of firing people. He needed to see the contract before he agreed to anything. And find out, what the job would include. But, if the pay was good, he could probably bullshit his way through, as he did previously.


    ¡°Sir, could you please elaborate on the contract, the job description, and the benefits?"

 Interlude 1: Dungeoneering!, Part 2

    ¡°Oh, aren¡¯t you a savvy one?¡± the alien giggled ¡°Your job would be to get my dungeon in order and be its manager for the future. And, of course, make it the biggest and grandest dungeon in all the multiverses! I haven¡¯t spared any expenses previously, and I won¡¯t do it in the future! I want that dungeon, and time isn¡¯t a concern either. It flows a bit differently for us Administrators, after all. However, if I deem you didn¡¯t make sufficient progression, you will be fired and get a private hell for yourself.¡±


    ¡°So, I will make regular audits to gauge the progression ¨C let''s say once every hundred years and a day. If your work is deemed acceptable, and you wish to retire, you will be able to do so after the first hundred years and a day, and depending on your performance, I will give you very nice benefits. Do you want to have Skills, Perks, Points, or money? You will get as much as you like!"


    Zoli thought a bit about the offer. So, he will be a glorified construction worker and a prison warden? He could do that, probably. He was certain, he could do better than an environmental activist any day, so the ¡°acceptable progression¡± would be taken care of, without needing to fear a private hell.


    If the job was not for his liking or too hard, he could retire after a hundred years and reap the benefits. Money as much as he wanted, was a very good thing indeed. Perks, like a company car, a nice beach house, a boat, and travel expenses were welcome too. Skills were a bit more questionable.


    What would it entail? Excel, SAP, Best Practice, Six Sigma, Black Belt? Never mind, if he had money and perks, why should he need skills? In one of the companies he had worked for, there was a system for Contribution Points set up, the more one collected, the more benefits ¨C better pay, extra free days ¨C one got. He assumed the alien had something similar setup, so more points were good too.


    The only thing that was a bit problematic was the hundred-years-contract he was to sign. But again, he was dead currently.


    ¡°Sir, do you have a New Hire Orientation program, where I can learn about the job''s details? I would be able to decide if I''m comfortable with the tasks."


    Zoli hedged his bet. The job offer sounded good, probably a bit too good, so he wanted to know exactly, what he had to do.


    ¡°New Hire what? Oh, you want to know about the rules beforehand? Good man!¡± The alien went to a bookshelf and after a bit of searching pulled out an ornately bound thumb-thick book ¡°Ah, this is the right Rulebook for the job. How to Operate Your Dungeon, first edition. Here, read this. There is a buffet set up in the next room, when you are done, let me know, what you decided!¡±


    Zoli was ushered to the next room ¨C an executive-style conference room with extremely comfortable-looking boss chairs and an opulent buffet set up on the huge wooden table.


    Before starting to read, he set his priorities straight: sampling the free food. He half expected to not be able to eat and drink as a ghost or spirit, but that was not the case. Caviar, cheese, small bits of different smoked, marinated, pickled, cooked, fried, baked, and aged ham and other meats, vegetables, and fruits in every conceivable form, color, makeup, and style. At least, it looked like caviar and ham, so he assumed, it was caviar and ham.


    Vegetables and fruits he had more problems identifying, some he had no idea about. And good champagne, nice wine, and fresh juices. The whole thing reminded him of the one time when he was at the company headquarters for an executive-level meeting. Not the half-dried-out pieces of cheap crap they fed to the underlings at home, to be short. He heaped some food on a tray, poured himself another glass of expensive-looking champagne, took a seat in one of the boss chairs, looked out of the window at the planet beneath, and started reading.


    He could barely make heads or tails of the book¡¯s content.


    From what he understood, a dungeon was something like a training ground for mercenaries (special forces grunts?) ¨C probably the meaning was muddled up in translation. That could happen, like the one time, the translator managed to mistranslate a manual into meaning some really sexist things. Zoli was able to terminate the contract of said translator and his team leader within 24 hours! A record!


    So, the manager of the training grounds was tasked to provide the mercenaries with targets and rewards and to set up a challenging environment for them. There was a system set up so the manager could assign new targets or monsters after the previous one was slain. Probably the Recruiting Team handled that part.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    If this kind of training was tried on Earth, the press backslash would be horrendous. All the activists, no matter the political side would organize rallies till the responsible were quartered! Farcebook and the other media would overflow with protests! But, in this world, it was possible and even endorsed by the highest authority!


    How and what the mercenaries paid for the possibility of such a training opportunity, Zoli couldn''t figure out (and wasn''t really interested in the matter), that was what the Accounting, Billing, and Finances Departments were for, after all!


    How to acquire materials for the rewards, Zoli also didn¡¯t understand in detail. There were tables and rates and whatnot he couldn¡¯t get a clear answer from, so he needed an Acquisition Department, and probably some Manufacturing Department too. Not a problem, he would be promoted to CEO, no need to understand what the company did at all!


    It looked like a VERY cushy job the more he read (and the more champagne he drank). Yeah, clean up the mess from the activist, make it look like acceptable progression, retire after a hundred years, and enjoy all the perks and stuff he collected! That was a good plan!


    He returned to the office of the Administrator. There was only one question to be answered though.


    ¡°Sir, I think this will be an amazing opportunity for me to envision front-end experience, seize interactive schemes and grow one-to-one synergies.¡± A bit of corporate bullshit never hurt anyone yet ¡°Though I would like to ask about the monetary benefits.¡±


    The alien seemed to gauge Zoli for a moment, then smiled, showing his needle-sharp teeth.


    ¡°Oh, you won¡¯t have to deal with that. You won¡¯t have to worry about personal needs as long as the contract is valid!¡±


    That was amazing! Full expenses coverage! That was better than the Branch Director got back on Earth. He got only housing, the bills for electricity, water and stuff, transportation, and food covered by the company, but still had to pay for personal stuff. Zoli was to live as a king! No, as an emperor! No, as a CEO of the biggest companies! His future was set! He felt a slight buzzing in his head and attributed it to the excitement for such a glorious opportunity.


    And not three bottles of expensive and fine and fermented grapes.


    ¡°Where can I sign?¡±


    The alien put a comparatively short contract on his desk. Despite being four pages long, Zoli only checked a few important points: benefits, clauses of resignment, and termination. Everything was like they discussed, so he signed without further delay.


    ¡°Before I transport you to the dungeon, I will give you some advice. The dungeon has animals and monsters and plants as its main specialty, but as a minor one, it has some barely intelligent species too. That cretin of a predecessor of you did a good job in creating the scenery and the inhabitants, I would recommend not starting from scratch. You won''t have enough time for that, and I like the basic idea for the dungeon. Remember, you only have a hundred years and a day to make progress. If you are not able to open a grand dungeon till that time, prepare for hell."


    ¡°As for Perks, you will have to run with those that the bitch chooses. They are hard-coded to the dungeon, and even I can not change them easily. That is, you will get an Avatar, a comfortable home ¨C yes, you can modify it as you like ¨C a huge bonus for environmental modifications and creation, getting and modifying animals, monsters, and plants, and the cost for respawning them is also significantly lower. You will also get a Monster Dictionary with every animal, monster, and plant I have ever created or at least imported. Before you ask, THAT would give you basically endless possibilities! Unfortunately, loot will be more expensive for you to create, but with such a huge dungeon the bitch already created and a bit of ingenuity, I''m sure, you will manage."


    Zoli tried to translate the ramblings into corporate terms he could understand. First, an Avatar was probably a face he could show before others so they didn¡¯t bother him overly much, so a secretary. That was no surprise, every CEO needed a few of them, the prettier the better.


    Company-sponsored housing was also a very good perk to have, and here it was made clear, the company would pay for restructuring and furnishing. Oh, and he will get a bonus for making his underlings modify and creating the playing field of the training grounds! A HUGE Bonus!


    He started to scheme immediately. Would it be enough to dig a ditch to get the bonus, or would he need to do more? Clear a forest and re-plant the trees? Aaand, it will be easier to hire new underlings and would be able to cut the monthly wages. Probably. That''s why the big corporations did the outsourcing to poor countries, after all.


    The Monster Dictionary was a bit unknown. Maybe it''s some kind of hiring platform? But, it gave endless possibilities, so it had to be a good thing. He didn''t care much about more expensive "loot" (probably the extra benefits for the workforce or the vending machines for the mercenaries. In either case, he could cut back on these, order some low-grade substitution and make them more expensive himself), after all, the Administrator was confident in Zoli''s potential to manage a huge company in this regard.


    ¡°If you need some other Perk, you can contact me, and if it is important for the dungeon, I will provide you with it. Now, BEGONE!¡±

 Interlude 1: Dungeoneering!, Part 3

    Zoli floated above a beautiful landscape. On one side rolling hills or low mountains, covered in a lush forest lay before (beneath?) him, on another side there was a largish lake with a few small islands, in the middle a high mountain chain separated the forest and the lake from grasslands. The landscape was large, but nevertheless, Zoli was able to see everything all at once.


    The only exception was a clearly defined border around the landscape he could not see or sense behind, a black, smoky wall ¨C no, a dome, covering the fake sky too. No, it was an irregular sphere, reaching beneath the ground.


    And then he KNEW.


    Cold sweat started running down Zoli''s back. Or at least, if he had a back and glands for sweat still remaining, cold sweat would run down his back. This was all a huge misunderstanding! He was not a Human anymore, but a sentient and sapient LANDSCAPE?!? What he saw beneath him, was not a landscape at all, it was HIM!


    He UNDERSTOOD.


    This wasn¡¯t the corporate world anymore, this was Arkadia! He was kicked into a deep well, not understanding, how the place worked, and he had made assumptions with his corporate knowledge clouding his judgment. He wanted to go home!


    With a blink, he found himself in a nice wooden bungalow on one of the lake''s little islands. He was corporeal now ¨C in the body of a thirty-something woman. In the companies he worked for, there were very strict rules against sexism, homophobia and Integrity was held very high (good rules, he had fired a few people while pointing at some nebulous interpretations of them), but he himself was not too keen on crossdressing and gender change. He had to be a sentient landscape for a hundred years and a day, killing ¨C and NOT terminating ¨C folks while being stuck in the body of a woman¡­ He curled up in a corner and started crying.


    Two days later he was still wallowing in self-pity, still curled up in the corner. He felt no hunger or thirst, and he found out, he couldn''t even cry, just going through the motions. Then something broke inside of him. He was seen as a loyal slave driver of his masters. So be it! He would be the best little slave-driving minion!


    He was seen as an evil shit, ruining the lives of dozens of people? Good! He will bring ruin and death if that was what it took! If he had no problems in firing ¨C no, terminating ¨C people, then he would gladly terminate every idiot he could. Permanently!


    Zoli descended into a hysterical and evil laughing fit. He will become a dungeon, a training ground, a killing field! The best he ever could be!


    And when he retired, he will reap all the promised endless perks the Administrator promised, and give him the middle finger! HAHAHAHAHAHA!


    He smashed the furniture up, to release the anger.


    Two days later he finally collected himself enough to calm down and start thinking. He already figured out, an Avatar wasn''t another word for a secretary, but the ability to have a corporal form inside his dungeon. Inside himself. Whatever. If the Avatar was a projection of himself, could he modify it? Himself, that is.


    As it transpired, it wasn''t even hard. A 3D model of his body appeared in his mind, and he just knew, he could modify it and how he could do it. He wasn''t interested in giving the female form huge boobs and such, he wanted to get his own body back! The desire was enough, in the blink of an eye, he was back to his Earth self. Clothing included. He decided to go with business casual: brown leather slippers, a dark green pair of trousers, a striped light green shirt, and a brownish-green jacket. That should be enough.


    He left the bungalow and looked around in the garden. Or on the island, it was the same. He had to give it to the activist, she chose a nice spot. On one side he was able to see the wooded hills and low mountains, in the other direction the snow-capped peaks of the mountain chain. He somehow knew the first was to the North, the other to the West. However, the bungalow he didn¡¯t like, and was quite sure, when ¨C not if ¨C he opened up the dungeon, a home in this place would be in danger to be raided by those pesky, death-seeking mercenaries.


    He needed to get a better house at a better place. His eyes wandered over to the mountains. One of the peaks? Why not? Would be impossible to reach, and his domain would be literally lying before his feet! A grandiose home and view for the biggest and grandest dungeon manager of all times and all the multiverses! HAHAHA!


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    He toured the peaks, looking for the best one with the most gorgeous view. He ruled out all but three.


    The first had the best view in three directions but faced the smoky border on the fourth, the second overlooked a very scenic mountain valley but otherwise, the view was the worst of all, and the third lay in the exact middle of the chain, but was a bit low and offered a somewhat restricted view. He preferred the last one, simply because it was in the center, but wasn¡¯t exactly pleased with the view.


    Had he to settle for anything but the best? He debated a bit if he should build his house ¨C no! Mansion! ¨C in a less-than-ideal place, when he realized who and what he was now. He was the dungeon and could modify it! Thanks to his¡­ what was it called? Perks! Modifying was even cheap! He giggled.


    ¡°Let''s see¡­ I can change my point of view, so let''s fly up! Hehehe¡­ All right, at this elevation, I can see everything, so I need to increase the height up to here¡­ That''s another 218 meters. Hmmm¡­ Make it 220. Good. The walls should be unclimbable, so let''s make it steep. Steeper! An overhang here. And there. Make it out of ice! And coat the rest with ice too! HAH! This is fun! Oh, look, I can make boulders fall down randomly! HAHAHA! Have fun climbing this mountain, idiots!"


    Zoli may have lost it.


    ¡°Next my mansion! No pedestrian little home, but a mansion fit for the biggest and grandest CEO of all the multiverses! HAHAHA! I do need an open-air swimming pool, with enough room around it to have a party. And a sundeck for lazing around! I mean, to work in Home Office! HAHAHA! I will put the pool there¡­ the sundeck right next to it, with a nice stone parapet around it! Good! Now the house! Of course, glass walls, so I can always see my land! The bedroom goes on the top, with a terrace around it. Below goes the office, and the living room. And a kitchen! WAIT! I need toilets and bathrooms! Hmmm¡­ Do I need them? Sniff, sniff¡­ I don''t think, I need them, but I can have them! So I will have them! Let¡¯s add a library and a smoking room on the ground floor too! And a wine cellar in the basement! Hmmm¡­ Now I have a lot of room for the upstairs terrace. I will add a jacuzzi here. But why stop?!? A Jacuzzi in all cardinal directions! HAHAHA!


    Zoli probably lost it.


    ¡°Furniture! A double bed for the bedroom¡­ No! Make it a double-double bed! An ¨¹berboss-chair for the office! A huge office table! Oak! No!!!! Mahogany! Leather couches! This! That! HAHAHA! This is the way of living!!! HAHAHA!!! Oh, look, the pool has frozen over! Too cold? Can I change the climate? Of course, I can! Climate Change: tropical! Huh, no make it so, that only the mountaintop has it¡­ Ah¡­ And DONE! Let''s shall fly around a bit and see how grandiose it is! No, this won''t do! Now every plebeian will see my gorgeous mansion from everywhere! That can not stand! No plebeian should lay eyes on the glorious CEO''S adobe! Can I hide it? Hmmm¡­ Ah, One Way Illusion Field. Good! Hmmm¡­ It looks like it consumes some energy, but who cares! My comfort is worth it!"


    Zoli almost certainly lost it.


    He was shouting his inner discussion with an insane grin on his face. He probably should have paid more attention and not started a spending spree without knowing how things worked and how much stuff cost. He managed to blow his daily income in Mana for useless luxuries in a few hours.


    What he hasn''t figured out yet, is that although modifying the environment (like enlarging a mountain or putting another climate on top) was cheap ¨C but not for free ¨C conjuring up high-class materials just for his own pleasure out of thin air was definitely not. If he made it as loot, it would have been marginally cheaper, but the way he did it, it bankrupted him for the rest of the day. And it wasn''t even noon.


    ¡°WHAT THE HELL?!?! Why can''t I make the parapet out of marble too?!?! Normal stone clashes with my pool and sundeck and party space!!! I can''t even stock my wine cellar! Hmmm? Out of Mana? What the hell is Mana? Oh¡­"


    He got it.


    He dejectedly returned to his office, sat down in his (extremely expensive and overdone) executive chair, and started thinking. But only after raging for a few hours.


    He may have read the Rulebook, but paid little attention to the contents, mostly because he had no gaming or RPG background and so could not understand most of the terms and mechanics. Even the most basic thing, opening his Dungeon Management System was out of his reach ¨C he stumbled upon it only by accident, late in the night.


    He wanted to find out how much his income in that Mana-thing was, how much the luxury items he wanted cost, and how he could increase the revenue. He needed a secretary fast! And then, the DMS just popped up. Tabs and charts in an endless row.


    Yes, he needed a secretary immediately! Or at least a display to show the different charts and graphs! At the very least he figured out his daily passive income. Not counting the upkeep cost for his Monster Order of Battle (he decided to shorten it to MOB, upkeep was something like salary? Why not pay it only each month like every normal company?) the few fields and special rules he had, he could work with only a thousand Mana Points.


    The building of his mansion cost him more than a week¡¯s stockpiled Mana! He needed more income!

 Interlude 1: Dungeoneering!, Part 4

    ¡°No, I won¡¯t give you Higher Passive Absorption just yet!" The Administrator''s voice rang in his head. "I don''t see any progress so far, you just built a house for yourself! Ask again, when I see some effort done! I don''t give out free stuff! Until then, don''t call me!"


    That was unfair. How could he build an awesome dungeon and run a company with the revenue of a small start-up working out of a basement?!? His total daily income was around 1.400 Mana, give or take a few, and four hundred of that was tied up for upkeep. Since he needed his MOB, he could not shave off costs there ¨C he probably even needed to expand the MOB, the grasslands on the other side of the mountains looked a bit unfinished and with almost no critters.


    He had, however, three rules that looked like the issues the Administrator told him about Unkillable, Unlootable, and a Dungeon Rampage. The last one was the trigger for when guests tried to pick pretty flowers to send every last entry in the MOB against them. The daily cost for those three rules was a staggering 100 Mana per day. They needed to go immediately!


    Zoli laid back in his chair. Doing things in his mind was counter-intuitive for him. Working at a computer for more than a decade, looking at spreadsheets and flowcharts, and presentations, he was not prepared to be creative. He missed his computer screens and charts. Having Mana again, he created two large desk displays and an even larger one for the wall. And a keyboard. He immediately felt better, almost like back in the office! Only if he could project the charts and stuff on them!


    Actually, he could. He was the dungeon, and the displays were part of the dungeon, so part of himself. He could do everything with them, he didn''t even need them, and he could have projected the data on everything. He just needed to want it and figure out how to do it. In barely six hours he figured out a way ¨C no, not the easiest way of willing it done in real-time, but some roundabout way of "implementing IT solutions", "running macros", "collating data" and "making reports".


    Actually, his solution wasn''t real-time anymore, but had a lag of a few minutes and cost him a Mana per day¡­


    The first thing he did after implementing the new process was to find out, where his Mana was coming from and where it went. The first one was relatively easy: he got a base of 100 Mana, and one for every square kilometer of finished dungeon terrain. Yes, he had almost 1.300 square kilometers! Plus a bit over 500 of unfinished grasslands!


    The expenditure was a bit trickier to collate. His territory was divided into 131 "Zones" (whatever those were), numbered continuously, and he had to pay a daily salary to the MOB residing in said zone. As for his MOB¡­ He got a looong list. There were different classifications for them: Monster, Animal, and Critter, but in another column, every last one had the designation "Normal" with the annotation "Level 1".


    He didn''t understand the classification at first, but after observing different ones (i.e. projecting them on his display like National Geographic), he started to get a feeling. "Animals" were, well, animals he would be able to see on Earth. At least at one time or another, he got a distinct feeling, he saw a few extinct ones, and a few he could not place, and had a clear alien origin. Not that he was that good in paleozoology¡­


    ¡°Monsters" in contrast were animals with some extra abilities, like able to shoot strong water jets, having uncanny camouflage skills, or changing shapes. Since he had only those three (an ugly fish, a lynx-like cat, and a walking chest), his sample size was limited.


    ¡°Critters" on the other hand, were small animals ¨C cats, rats, wasps, snakes, frogs, bugs, and such. Interestingly, some cats and snakes and stuff were classified as "Animals" not as "Critters", Zoli had to dig a bit to realize the difference: "Critters" were bought in bulk and the individual threat wasn''t high, but he had to buy "Animals" who were of individual threat. Like the difference between interns and real employees.


    Each entry in his MOB had an upkeep cost ¨C minuscule on the individual scale, but it still added up to almost 300 mpd (Zoli decided to shorten Mana per Day to that. Efficiency was key to business success, after all!). However, he did not realize the point yet that every last one of his dungeon monsters was just normal Level 1s.


    Every entry on the MOB was assigned to a specific Zone for statistical purposes (Zoli assumed) but was able to wander as like liked. Zoli accidentally found a Rule with which he could limit the monsters wandering or bind them to a specific Zone, but left that alone for now. It made no difference at the present, and he knew that many animals liked to wander. Maybe later he would play with it.


    The most interesting thing he found was a band of high-cost entries in Zone 1: little green bipedal fellows with large ears, eyes, and noses residing in something he would have dubbed the "Visitor Center" the Administrator was talking about. They looked marginally intelligent, wearing uniform shorts and shirts, and just milling around at the present.


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    ¡°Hehehe! Real employees!¡± Zoli giggled ¡°They don¡¯t look highly intelligent but probably are not dumber than all those drones I had to work with previously! Let¡¯s pay them a visit! My new managers are waiting to be promoted! HAHAHA!¡±


    He left his office to arrive at the Visitor Center, in a room that looked like a conference hall. The walls were decorated with posters of a few of the animals, with slogans printed across them. Save the planet, trees have rights, be nice to animals, and such. Zoli surveyed the room and just knew, there were some Rules still running: Unlootable and Indestructible being such.


    Obviously, he just removed those rules from the MOB, not from buildings. He removed those rules (about a dozen free mpd gained!) and made a note to check his displays again in case other unnecessary Rules were floating around. He decided to get rid of the Visitor Center as soon as he knew what to do with the little green fellows.


    While he was messing around with the Rules, the door to the hall opened, and his new possible employees and managers filed inside.


    ¡°Yo, Man! You the new Bossman?" one of them asked when they were inside.


    ¡°Yes, yes, I''m the new CEO of this amazing company. Nice to meet all of you dedicated employees! You can call me Honored CEO. I have been appointed to this position because the stockholders felt the company was facing challenges in the portfolio and had to enhance client-focused initiatives in delivering alternative and competitive core competencies. We now have to proactively actualize cross-functional leadership skills to streamline compelling content."


    Zoli was proud of his presentational skills, he had attended a few workshops for manager positions. It was essential to communicate accurate information to the wage slaves in a time-proven and business-like way. Unfortunately, the little green fellows stared at him exactly like those underlings on Earth.


    Why couldn''t they understand? He spoke with other managers for hours in this way, and everyone nodded with understanding, all just made sense! Oh, wait! That was why every company had Team Leaders and such, so they, as future manager candidates could tell the slackers what to do with the information they were given by the managers! He had two choices now: train some low-level managers to tell the others what to do, or demean himself to their level and speak Pedestrian.


    It was obvious, what he would choose: train up the low-level slave drivers!


    That he didn''t even need managers and team leaders and his whole intelligent workforce consisted of only those twelve before him, hasn''t even crossed his mind.


    ¡°All right, I will promote some of you, so you can lead your teams and deliver the expertise to your co-workers. Let¡¯s see¡­ You there! ¡°Zoli pointed to the lest-ugly looking probably female ¡°I promote you to my secretary. What¡¯s your name?¡±


    His secretary just shook her head.


    ¡°All right, I will call you Janine.¡±


    ¡°You there, Peter, will be the head of Production and Manufacturing.¡±


    ¡°Egon, you will be Research and Development.¡±


    ¡°Raymond, yes, you there, Finances.¡±


    ¡°Winston, Engineering.¡±


    ¡°Harold, IT¡±


    ¡°And Dana, you will be HR!¡±


    He still needed someone for Marketing, Customer Service, Supply, Procurement, Quality Management, Operations, and Administration. And a few others. However, he had only five of the little green fellows remaining ¨C but saying little green fellow was probably insensitive, so he thought about what to call them instead. Then he knew: Goblins!


    ¡°Jenette, Marketing and Customer Service.¡±


    ¡°Cynthia, Supply and Procurement.¡±


    ¡°Colette, Operations and Administration.¡±


    ¡°Ellen, Quality Management¡±


    ¡°That leaves us with James, you will be Corporate Security. As for the other departments, I don''t think I need them at the moment. Probably I will assign other departments to you all as it is needed."


    What Zoli did not understand was that he promoted his employees to be heads of departments, or as the System translated his words and intentions: he evolved a dozen monsters into Bosses and raised their Levels. What previously were dumb Goblins of the "normal" designation and Level 1, became Level 30 Bosses. And every last one could now speak and understand Corporate fluently.


    They gained Skills and Perks befitting of their departments, at a level, that would be around 400% out in the world ¨C a level very few people reached because of the cost and time invested.


    The mpd-cost for them also multiplied, from a minuscule size (even together, they only cost 2 mpd previously) to 20 each. Zoli was in for a big surprise.


    He only needed a Corporate Headquarters now!

 Interlude 1: Dungeoneering!, Part 5

    Zoli ended up building his Corporate HQ below his mansion inside the mountain.


    First, he had the conviction that a CEO should not be forced to travel for long on the few days he did not work from Home Office on his boat or in his beach house in the Caribbean. Secondly, building the HQ in easy-to-reach places would be in danger of being raided by the mercenaries.


    He built an "Executive Floor" with its own office for all his managers, a few lavish meeting rooms, and networking areas. Every office got a few screens with the respective data shown, and he placed a few in the meeting rooms and networking areas too. Then he added a station for the future secretary of each manager next to the offices.


    Every manager needed secretaries, after all! They can¡¯t and should not be forced to do administrative work! Of course, there were no secretaries currently, but it was anticipation for the future. He even created corporate-approved formal wear for his managers, there was no way they would be allowed to attend work in shorts and shirts, only the CEO had that right, after all.


    Another investment was the floor below, where the workforce would be seated at a later date. Of course, it was an open office space, since it was the easiest to restructure and repurpose if need be. And the cheapest to build. He had no workforce either but wanted to wait with recruiting until he had figured out, how many workers each department needed.


    After two days of constructing and bankrupting himself again, he called the first executive meeting. The multiple-hours discussion, held in Corporate can be summarized as follows:


    ¡°We need more mpd" Raymond stated "As soon as we have a larger MOB with higher Levels and thus higher daily upkeep, the current income will not be sustainable. Constructing terrain, respawning the MOB, and providing loot will be almost impossible."


    ¡°We need a larger MOB¡± Dana continued ¡°The previous CEO bought a good selection, but the quantity is too low for the size of the dungeon. The density per Zone is insufficient.¡±


    ¡°Also, we have at this point only normal Level 1s in the MOB.¡± Colette interjected


    ¡°Yes, although some are good, normal Level 1s can¡¯t be counted on defending the dungeon and providing the service the dungeon is here for.¡± James seconded her.


    ¡°Our production capacity is non-existent¡± Peter warned.


    ¡°Even if we had that capacity, we can not procure materials for manufacturing" Cynthia added "The previous CEO did not invest in mines and ores, and just creating material is inefficient. We need mines and ores."


    ¡°Even if we had mines and ores, and production capacity, we lack research capabilities to do anything with them¡± Egon cautioned


    ¡°To build any of it, we lack in the engineering department. The Honoured CEO can create things at will, but we should not burden him with such trivialities if we can direct it downwards to the workforce" Winston brown-nosed.


    ¡°I would not recommend opening the dungeon yet¡± Jenette added ¡°We could increase our mpd by opening, but with our current Level of service, with no loot and a non-challenging MOB we would lose customers and the cost of respawning would be higher than the increase in income. In the long term, certainly.¡±


    Harold and Ellen just sat there, with their fingers in their noses. Basically. They did talk a lot, but for the meeting their contribution was redundant.


    They finally agreed on the course of action. i.e. Zoli told them what they will do, the managers nodded and Zoli was in the clear: if something went wrong, it was the managers who agreed, so it was their fault. The managers realized this and pushed for having Team Leaders to put the blame on, and since Zoli needed to expand the staff, agreed and created two Elite Level 20 Team Leaders and an Elite Level 22 secretary for each manager.


    Even Janine got two of those undersecretaries. But then, he needed to create three Normal Level 15 workers for each Team Leader so they could push the blame further down. With these 101 new workers, the company started to take shape. The cost of 406 mpd for the upkeep and four day''s worth (actually, it was around a week, since all of the new workers needed corporate attire, and the more workers he summoned, the less Mana he got) of income for summoning them was a well-spent investment.


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    The idea was to close off everything but the Forest Biome, recycle the MOB in the other Biomes to free up mpd and get the mess in the Forest in order first. As soon as the Forest could provide a good enough service, they would open up the dungeon to get Mana from the mercenaries and start renovating the Lake Biome next. After that was opened up, the Mountain Biome was next, all the while funneling a bit of Mana into the Grassland Biome, to complete it and receive mpd from there too.


    The terrain itself was beautifully constructed, with hills of different heights, with the lowest part set as zero elevation, between thirty and a bit above three hundred meters, with ditches, ravines, and valleys interspersed, everything covered in dense deciduous forest. Here and there, there were small creeks and streams and a few small pools and wet places that didn''t reach the level to be called a swamp.


    There were a few horsts too, covered in short grass and moss sporting steep sides, and a couple of clearings and glades, but most of the vegetation still consisted of woods. That is, a temperate forest mostly with oaks, but heavily interspersed with beech, chestnut, sycamore, walnut, wild service tree, and some willows near the streams and pools, and a few copses of fruit trees. And a lot of bushes and shrubs.


    Of course, Zoli wasn''t able to differentiate between them or name them. He could point out the difference between redwood and palm, but nothing more. He had no idea, what the shrubbery in his past office was called and what to do with it, but thankfully the Dungeon Operating System ¨C with the added intervention of Egon, Cynthia, and Ellen ¨C was able to inform him about their names and for what they were used.


    For some strange reason, every species had the added designation ¡°Dungeon¡± in it. Egon informed him, that these were ¡°magical¡± variations of the ¡°outside¡± species, with certain ¡°mystical¡± properties. For dummies: valuable for the outside world and for some strange reason cheaper to plant than the ¡°outside¡± variations. Zoli didn¡¯t care about most of the information, but the last one was important.


    The terrain and the greenery were done ¨C and Zoli had to acknowledge ¨C well done by the previous dungeon manager, all that was left was the MOB. The Forest Biome was around 350 square kilometers, divided into 45 Zones, but as Dana pointed out in the meeting, the MOB density was low:


    - two Dungeon Brown Bears and one Dungeon Dire Bear


    - four sounders of boars (one dominant sow, two other sows, four sounders, three juveniles, and four squeakers each) and six unattached males (one Dungeon Dire Boar, and five normal ones),


    - one Dungeon Dread Wild Cat


    - a murder of crows (one Dread, three Dire, and ten normal ones)


    - one pack of Dungeon Wild Dogs (one Dungeon Dire Wild Dog, and six normal ones. For some strange reason the dire version was a Bolognese)


    - one pair of Dungeon Imperial Eagle


    - one Dungeon Dread Saker Falcon (that one he recognized, it was a cultural thing. He needed to provide it with a crown and a sword)


    - twelve families of red foxes (two adults and four juveniles each, three families were of the dire variation)


    - ten packs of Dungeon Golden Jackals (two adults and five juveniles each, one of the packs was Dire Dungeon Golden Jackals ¨C a ridiculous name)


    - three lynxes, one of them the camouflage-capable monster


    - an unkindness of ravens (one Dread, three Dire, and a dozen normal ones)


    - two tigers


    - six vipers (one each of the Dread and Dire versions)


    - two lonely Dungeon Dread Wolves


    - four wolfpacks of one Dungeon Dire Wolf and nine normal Dungeon Wolves (four of them young ones) a piece,


    - some does, bucks, rabbits, cats, rats, badgers, and a shitload of critters.


    The Zones were continuously numbered, but their placement was haphazard, to say the least.


    Zone 45 was bordering Zones 1 and 13, while Zone 44 was placed on the far side of the Biome. The numbering made no sense whatsoever. It was like the previous CEO did make one Zone, jumped to the next, tucked another next to the existing ones, and after a time remembered the old Zones and tucked another next to the first.


    Zoli had no idea, what the numbering of the Zones meant, he vaguely remembered reading something about it in the New Hire Orientation Package, and was not interested in Harold''s, Colette''s, and Ellen''s explanation, but felt it was a mess, and needed to be corrected. He decided to re-number the whole Biome, leaving Zone 1, near the Southern edge of the Biome, as a starting point. Zone 2 went due South then in a clockwise fashion Zones 2-5, then starting again at the Southern edge of Zones 6-10, and so forth. Next to the Mountain Biome, he ended up with Zones 42-45, simply because the Lake Biome and the border were in the way.


    Fortunately, renumbering did occur with only a minuscule cost.


    What next?


    Of course! It¡¯s time for some promotions!

 Interlude 1: Dungeoneering!, Part 6

    Zoli wanted a Zone Leader for each of the Zones and one Biome Leader ¨C for the last, he already decided on the huge Falcon, and placed it on top of a horst in Zone 45, in the extreme Northwest corner of the Biome. Not counting the vipers, those he didn''t see as leadership material, he had 45 possible Zone Leaders for 45 Zones, perfect! (Of course, the previous dungeon manager had to do it this way to have a Boss for each Zone, but Zoli didn''t understand, again)


    His managers told him, that it was inherent in dungeon construction to put the weakest monsters first, and then gradually build up the threat. It made sense: in the corporate world, the lowest level interns were pushed forward to take the blame or were relocated, repurposed, or restructured first. The CEO was only reached when every other person fell before him.


    So, which of those animals was the weakest? Probably the cat or the foxes. They were the smallest of the whole bunch, except for the Dire Bolognese Dog. But dogs were used to hunt foxes and cats, no? Cat or fox it is.


    Fortunately, before he could make (another) mistake, his managers explained to him, that despite being only a cat, the Dread Wildcat could probably eat a Lynx and a lot of other animals in the MOB for breakfast. While all being the same Normal Level 1. The meeting then degenerated into guesswork about the needed Levels and classifications, so Zoli simply told them to prepare a business plan of MOB density, Level, classification, and allocation.


    Before he retired to his mansion, Raymond and Harold intercepted him. They figured out another part of the Dungeon Operating System and found another resource: Currency.


    The dungeon was allocated a certain amount of currency daily, he could buy materials, items, MOB, and Perks from that pool, or allocate currency as loot. His current income was 141 System Silver Coins a day, which is a base of ten SSC plus one for each Zone, with a balance in his account of 2.923 SSC, 12 System Copper Coins, and 1 System Iron Bit. Zoli didn''t even think about giving out currency as loot, he planned to have only harvestable loot or a few items, to begin with.


    Why should he provide the mercenaries with cash? THEY should pay HIM! The other stuff, he could buy was more interesting for him. His managers had prepared bullet points, about what the dungeon needed, including more mpd, materials, production, and R&D capabilities. Harold explained to him, how he could access the marketplace and how it was structured and made some recommendations on what to look out for.


    Zoli started browsing. It was like one of the internet shopping sites he was familiar with, and after only a few hours he had the hang of how to find and mark stuff.


    First, he checked metals and ores, and found something interesting: the metals he was familiar with ¨C iron, copper, tin, zinc, titanium, mercury, gold and silver, and others he only heard of ¨C were expensive. REALLY expensive. On the other hand, there were almost twenty metals and ores he haven''t even heard about, and was almost certain were not on the periodic table.


    These were cheap. Cheaper. Even the most expensive one was still cheaper than the cheapest known material. Zoli was dumbfounded. What was Mithrill? Orichalcum? Adamantium? Star Iron? Lunir? Abbitium? And all the others? Why were they so cheap? But with even being "cheap" even the cheapest (Black Iron) was 600 SSC for one vein, containing twelve pieces of ore, or 65 SSC for one piece of ore.


    Sure, he could buy four such veins, but not knowing, what they were and what to do with them, he left metals and ores alone for now.


    Next were items. And Blueprints. Items were cheaper ¨C and there was an unending list of size, quality, and material for every last piece ¨C but were one-offs, meaning, if they were lost or looted, they were gone.


    Blueprints on the other hand were more expensive but enabled the dungeon to make as many of the items, as it wanted.


    Khmm¡­ enabled him to let the workforce produce them in quantity. Again, Zoli was confused. He did create his whole mansion and the Corporate HQ, without having any of these Blueprints, or even the necessary materials. Why should he spend good money on stuff he could build just with some time and Mana? Oh, wait, that way he could delegate the manufacturing to his underlings!


    There was a small detail he didn¡¯t get: he had the Perk for a Home that he could modify as he liked, while the Blueprints were for loot. Zoli did mark a few items for later purchase, but the whole browsing through limitless stuff with only marginal differences was boring. He sent Cynthia a memo to let her Team Leaders look through the lists and select some needed stuff. That was Procurement and Supply for! Delegation at its finest!


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    New MOB wasn''t on the priority list, the previous manager did make a splendid shopping spree there, they had a lot of different monsters, animals, and critters that weren''t even deployed, and there was room for growth there without spending a cent. He skipped that part of the Dungeon-Bay.


    The really useful part was the Perks. The list was, again, endless. From one-time power-ups for monsters, and Mana-for-Currency exchanges, to bonuses for this and that, extra damage, cheaper this and that and whatnot, exceptions, and a lot more.


    He looked at the memo his managers provided for desired, needed, and wanted Perks and stuff, and started to search. The first was Higher Passive Absorption. He found a few, from one that gave him +10% to one that gave him three times his normal rate. Of course, he wanted the best, but that was priced at 1.000 System Gold Coins, and he only had 29 with some pocket money.


    With his current income, he needed to wait for¡­ a very long time. Double Absorption was still 500 SGC, +50% was sold for 250, +25% for 125, and +10% for 50. He couldn¡¯t even buy the cheapest ones right now! He needed to wait for another two weeks without buying anything to be able to afford it.


    He looked at higher base income after that. Those were cheaper, another 150 mpd base income was sold for 100 SGC, and +50 for 30. Almost there! Zoli started to do mathematics: 140 mpd for 50 SGC was 2,8 mpd/Gold, while 50 for 30 was only 1,6, and the formed got better and better the more new Zones he finished. No, he wouldn¡¯t buy the bargain-bin crap, but wait for at least the +10% or even better the +25% Perk. He still had¡­ almost a year till the first audit.


    But he still needed to get more income or decrease the expenditure. The two most usual methods for that ¨C laying off the workforce or outsourcing to some piss poor country ¨C was not possible for him now. His only idea was to cut the salaries, but couldn''t do that either, because the cost was not fixed by him but by the government. Ehmm¡­ the Administrator.


    Was there a Perk for lower wages? Let¡¯s see¡­


    Of course, there were. Multiple ones. There was an Upkeep Reduction for Normal, Elite, and Boss classifications, everything from making them free to just a 10% reduction. For different Level brackets, like "below Level 5", "between 6 and 10", "below Level so and so" and so forth, or for all of them. The bracketed versions were cheaper, and the ultimate Perk, no upkeep for all of the MOB, not so much. There were a lot of zeroes after the initial number.


    With his current budget (or with waiting a few days) he could buy a few of them. The entries for Critters he dismissed immediately ¨C the upkeep cost was so minuscule, that he didn''t even bother to get rid of them in the other two Biomes, buying a reduction was simply not worth the money. The few monsters he had (those three, he kept all of them too, only one was allocated to the Forest Biome, to begin with) also didn''t warrant buying anything, so he marked the rest that he could buy in a reasonable time frame for animals, Normal, Elite or Boss, and sent the list over the Finance, HR, O&A and IT departments for perusing.


    They were preparing the Business Plan anyhow.


    After a day of hard work, he retreated to his pool for some recreation. Floating in the water, he thought about some important future challenges. He had his smoking room with a pool table, and his swimming pool but those alone weren''t enough for the long run. He needed something else to occupy himself with, either a boat for some sailing on his Lake Biome, a golf course, or a nice skiing resort. Why not all three? The Grasslands were ideal for a golf course, and he was sure, the Mountains had a good slope somewhere.


    Two days later his managers finished the Business Plan and set up a meeting.


    Boring and long as it was, at least the distribution and Leveling Plan for the MOB was adopted, the necessary steps to take were outlined, leadership was envisioned, values were conceptualized, schemas redefined, processes integrated and services scaled.


    That is, IT came up with a scheme, on how to distribute the MOB, and how high the aggregate Level for each Zone should be, O&A selected the MOB most suitable for the scheme, while HR filled and created the positions according to it. All the while Finance whined about the occurring cost and told Zoli what to buy (Upkeep Reduction: Normal Animals below Level 50, -100% for 30 SGC, followed by Upkeep Reduction: Animal Bosses below Level 35, -50% for another 40 SGC, and finally to save up for Higher Passive Absorption, +50%). The first one he bought immediately, for the second he needed to save up for about a Month, and the last one¡­ Another half a year.


    As for the scheme, Zoli rearranged the MOB accordingly and started to promote them from entry-level Level 1 interns to their respective rosters. Since none of them went over Level 50, their respective upkeep stayed at zero, so including the MOB of the other two Biomes, the Critters everywhere and the three monsters, and a few rules and fields that were still up, the daily upkeep fell down to less than twenty. Of course, his corporate team cost him 646 mpd, but that was a not negotiable expense.


    It turned out, Goblins were not Animals, so he still had to pay for their upkeep¡­


    ¡°Let''s hire new employees and promote the Zone Leaders!" Zoli was finally on the way to making something he was hired to do.

 Chapter 6: Teambuilding, Part 1

    The journey to the market town was shorter than Prof had expected, they already arrived the next evening at the settlement with an unutterable and unrememberable name. According to Foxy and Shinead, translated to Bergian meant something like the Clan-Neutral Commercial Place Under the Blooming Willows Along the Eastern Road, although due to the nuances of meaning and emphasis in the Elven language, it could be translated in half a dozen other ways.


    After Prof tried to fabricate some memorable name out of it for half the journey, Shinead graciously revealed that the Bergians simply called the town Willowflower. Based on medieval examples for marketplaces, Prof expected a village grown large, possibly with some more serious buildings, or according to fantasy novels and movies a tree-hugger settlement built on trees, into trees, or against trees.


    Both of his expectations were wrong as it turned out, the collection of houses, built on the shores of a lake had a more Scandinavian feel: scattered wooden houses painted in yellow, red, blue, green, brown, and white, amongst small groves and flower gardens. The town was quite large in area, but with a low population density. Shinead said it had a population of perhaps a thousand or a thousand and two hundred and lived largely to serve the surrounding farms and as a way-stop for travelers.


    After Shinead discussed something with the archer guarding the ¡°border¡± of the village, she purposefully led them to one of the few multi-story buildings. The building, painted red, turned out to be one of the guest houses in the village, which happened to be run by the red elves and was reserved for their travelers and Clan members. Shinead briefly explained that the Blues and Yellows also had their own guest houses in the town, and the Humans in transit had their own combined campground-guest house on the ¡°edge¡± of the settlement.


    Foxy added that the other Elven races were lodged in one of the guest houses, depending on whose "guest" they were and that the colors of the houses referred to the race of the inhabitants, the white color belonged to the non-Elves and the non-pure-blooded Elves. Prof didn''t understand, why white was for non-Elves, because there were two Elven races that translated to white too, but Foxy explained that the three colors were only translated into Bergian as "white" but in Elvish, they were three completely different colors, and houses of the two Elven races were painted in a different white.


    Unfortunately, there were no White or Silver Elves in Willowflower, and neither Foxy nor Shinead could describe the colors in a way that made sense to Prof. Not that Shinead made a serious effort.


    Although the ¡°red¡± guest house had a first floor and an attic, it could not be called large. On the ground floor, there was a small dining room with a table for four, a kitchen, and another room, and on the first floor and in the attic there were two small rooms for four people. The guest house looked rather like a family boarding house and was run by a woman who, while didn''t even come close to Shinead in beauty, could still have expected a fruitful modeling career on Earth.


    On her left cheek, there was a tattoo of a house, and on her left some stylized things, Prof could make no rhyme of. Shinead talked to her for a few minutes, pointing several times at Foxy and Prof, then led the little company into the right-hand room of the attic.


    ¡°The room is yours for a month, but I''m leaving for the Grand Master of the Clans tomorrow morning to be legally acknowledged as the leader of the Clan. I will surely be able to complete the journey and the trials in that time. In the meantime, try to get information and earn some money here. I arranged with the h¨¢zvezet?n? to keep an eye on you for the time and give you directions in the city if needed. Prof, you will have language lessons with her in the evenings, raise your [Speech: Elvish] to at least 60% before the end of the month. If I¡¯m not mistaken, we¡¯ll be staying in the Elven Domain for a time and I don¡¯t feel like interpreting all the time. So far no survivors have appeared here, but should it happen the h¨¢zvezet?n? will take care of them.¡±


    After dinner, they all went to the bathhouse next door, where Prof felt a little bit uncomfortable: the elven baths were mixed-gender, and the elves really had no problem with nudity. Even Foxy undressed without further ado and did not try to cover her more important body parts awkwardly. It was interesting to note, however, that although the Elves had no problem with nudity, they paid close attention to avoiding physical contact ¨C even among visibly close acquaintances.


    The fact that Prof had washed Shinead''s face and hands the day before could easily have been hair-raising sexual harassment for the Elves. Prof began to fear that he could be taken by the morality police at any time; or taken to task in the press as a predator.


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    Prof really enjoyed the bathing itself, the last time he had the opportunity to soak himself thoroughly in warm water was on Earth, Smallgrovewell lacked the infrastructure, and the forest spring, where they camped for a week, was only good for pretense. The situation of bathing with the naked elves he enjoyed not so much. After all, being surrounded by well-looking and very naked supermodels without knowing a common language and without the social acceptance of touching is a bit frustrating, you would think.


    The next morning ¨C rather late as it was ¨C when Prof woke up after spending a night in a real bed (and not on a blanket spread over hay or the ground!), Shinead was nowhere to be found, and Foxy was talking to the manager of the boarding house down in the common room. As it turned out, the manager was called Caoilfhoinn and was under the common direction or protection of the Red clans.


    Compared to Shinead, she was amicable and accepting, using majom and korcs (the latter turned out to be the derogatory term used for non-pureblood Elves and meant something like mongrel or degenerate) only rarely, and served Prof and Foxy almost politely. After a breakfast of fruits and vegetables, they gathered the things they were planning to sell and left for the city.


    Caoilfhoinn did not accompany them, but she explained where they would find what they were looking for: the money-changer, furrier, tanner, tailor, horse-seller, blacksmith, jeweler, alchemist, and the office of the village chief (at least Prof decided to call him village chief since he still could not make sense of the Elven political landscape), where they could find tasks to solve.


    The tour began at the money-changer in the Yellow''s guest house. Foxy undertook a quick crash course on the Elven financial system on the way over. As was to be expected, it was overly complicated: the smallest denomination were wooden tokens, called "Leaves", 66 Leaves made a ceramic coin called "Fishes", and 66 Fishes were equal to "Bear", which is a paper note. To make the names more complicated, each of the coins and notes came in different values, and each could have also its own name ¨C mostly a different one in each of the Elven dialects.


    After Prof started to despair, Foxy reassured him, that no Elf would expect a foreigner to understand the system and the exchange rates, so Humans would mostly deposit their money at a moneychanger or office and receive a letter of deposit with the equivalent number of Leaves, Fishes and Bears and a "check-book" for payments. The vendors would then check the Letter of Deposit, mark the value of purchase on it and receive a check.


    Only low-amount purchases were done in actual currency. Foxy warned him, that the changing rate would be bad for non-elves and they would most likely be overcharged everywhere. The advice he got was to open an "account" with some money where his earnings could be deposited, get some pocket change, and keep most of his valuables as they were.


    At the Yellow''s guest house the exchanger turned out to be a very high ¨C that is, nearly two meters high ¨C elf male with a golden-yellow skin tone, golden-blonde shoulder-length hair, violet eyes, and somewhat avian features. Prof estimated him to be in his forties, which meant, he was about¡­ who knows how old. He seemed friendly ¨C Prof was immediately cautious, a friendly money-lender is never a good sign ¨C and was even willing to speak Bergian.


    Although with a heavy accent, and in what Prof assumed was a slightly out-of-date version of the language.


    Prof decided to change half of his Bergian money into Elven ones and kept the rest. The Yellow Elf was nice enough to help Prof to make a table in his notebook with the approximate values of Leaves, Fishes, Bears, and Bergian currency ¨C so he did not have to make mental acrobatics at each transaction. After leaving the guest house, Foxy informed him, that the rates were not that bad but he was still fleeced and made some corrections to the table.


    Prof wasn¡¯t thrilled by the bad rates, but he got used to such practices back on Earth. After all, each time he left his country, he had to change money into the currency of the other country he visited.


    The alchemist was a Yellow too, a bit shorter than the previous, but still higher than Prof himself, with pale blonde hair and golden-yellow eyes. Although he had only a limited sample size, he started to get the feeling about the differences between Reds and Yellows. Yellows were higher (they were called High Elf, after all), with hair tending to the blonder side ¨C in contrast to the Red''s brownish or reddish ¨C and skin a golden color not the almost creole of the Red''s.


    Foxy previously told him that only the Reds (and to a smaller extent the ¡°Silver¡± ones) used tattoos, so the absence was no surprise for him. At the Alchemist Prof was able to sell the remaining mushrooms and the rabbit horns for around ten silver. However, it turned out, the two jars of intoxicating moss were basically worthless, since Prof had not harvested the important parts, and the complete batch had become unusable for the time spent since the harvest anyway.


    The Dire Bear¡¯s femurs went for fifteen silver, and he was informed if they had been able to get some other organs and bones, they could have earned at least fifty more silver for them. Fortunately, the alchemist had already heard of that particular dungeon and had promised Prof the equivalent of forty silvers for ten portions of Drunken Moss, two kilograms of Rainbow and Ink Mushrooms each, the tail and heart of the Giant Rat, and five meters of Choking Vines.

 Chapter 6: Teambuilding, Part 2

    Continuing with commerce, they visited the jeweler next.


    She was a Blue Elf of average height with medium blue hair and violet eyes and a darker shade of creole as her skin color. She looked somewhat uncanny, Prof got the feeling that her arms and legs were a bit longer than they should have been, her eyes a bit larger than normal, and something wasn''t "right" with her face too. Alien would be probably the right term. She also paid a little less than the "list price" Prof got as a return from his Skill for the crystals, that is, only the equivalent of forty silver.


    Prof guessed that for the full shopping spree he had planned, he would have to go back to the dungeon and even so needed to make money from somewhere else on top of that.


    The visit to the local blacksmith (another Yellow) was a short one: he just shook his head at the sight of the Dire Bear''s skull. In his opinion, a better armor smith could make a durable helmet out of it, but he was just a simple, general blacksmith, so Prof would have to look around a larger settlement.


    In exchange, the furrier and tanner ¨C korcs, or as Foxy referred to them ¡°Grey Elf¡± brothers ¨C discussed the bearskin for a long time. In the end, Prof had to decide if he wanted a nice suba from his home on Earth - an awesome sheepskin overcoat, originally worn by shepherds - , or leather armor (which could be developed into an armor similar to what Prof already had by a better blacksmith). After giving some thought, Prof opted for the suba, as he already had armor and the suba could be put over it and provide additional protection.


    In this way, he would have had his winter clothes with only one purchase. After the decision was made, the furrier escorted them to the tailor (who, by the way, was his cousin), where after another meeting Prof received a quote, from which he almost fainted. Preparing the fur, the lining, and the tailor¡¯s charge came to a whopping total of eighty silvers! In return, his new suba would give an Armor Rate of six plus a 15% bonus to [Intimidation], as well as full air conditioning between minus thirty and plus thirty degrees, all without any deductions for Agility and Dexterity.


    Prof immediately applied [Commerce] and began to haggle with the two craftsmen. In the end, it was agreed that Prof would pay seventy-five silver for the finished work, which the masters would distribute among themselves at their discretion, and they would also bear the risk: if they could not deliver, they would receive nothing. His new piece of clothing, on the other hand, seriously set Prof back financially.


    Finally, as he was already with the tailor anyway, he ordered two similar trousers as he had previously as a replacement, which reduced his fortune by five more silvers. Leaving the horse seller for the time, they finally visited the chief''s office.


    According to the steward, there were not many public tasks currently available, so Prof could choose from only two:


    Bring at least above-average quality food to the chief''s kitchen, payment was five silvers for ten portions.


    Destroy a pack of Gyors Rabl¨® in the Southern Forest. The payment was hundred and fifty silvers, plus fifteen silvers for each pair of claws.


    Prof was able to complete the first task at once, they handed over the Dire Bear¡¯s remaining meat from Foxy¡¯s Belly-bag of Holding, and Prof also surrendered the herbs he had acquired in the dungeon. Thus, only four more portions were missing to solve the task a second time, which, in Prof¡¯s opinion, could be collected without much of a problem. He had to go back to the dungeon anyway, the spice collected there, for example, would have been just enough.


    Regarding the second task, Prof had no idea what a Gyors Rabl¨® might even be, and Foxy wasn¡¯t sure either with her too-low Skills in that regard. If she remembered correctly, it was probably a two-legged, lizard-like beast that was either waist-high or taller than a human, and much more intelligent compared to a normal animal. She wasn¡¯t even sure if it had feathers or smooth greenish-brown skin, and the steward refused to give more information than where the nest was around approximately.


    In his opinion, whoever accepts the task knows what he is undertaking. As the easiest way, Prof wanted to go to the local hunter, forester, or ranger first, but according to Foxy, there were zoological books and one of them would be of greater use in the future. Because Prof intended to look around the local book market in the first place, they asked around a bit and were directed to a convenience store-like institution that also sold books.


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    Although no zoological books were to be found, Prof obtained a not-too-thick collection of alchemical recipes and a cookbook for Elven specialties, both written in Bergian for just one silver. Every other book (half a dozen) was in a language Prof did not understand. The owner of the convenience store was at least able to direct them to a local hunter who might be able to help them find out what kind of monster they had to hunt.


    The hunter ¨C a green elf of average height with blonde hair with greenish streaks and green eyes ¨C was fortunately easy to find and was willing to help after Prof politely outlined the situation.


    ¡°Ah, the old problem!¡± He said as Foxy translated for Prof and they shared the information at their disposal. ¡°The whole issue goes back to Master Chwarae Mynydd and his damned book. He mixed up Gyors Rabl¨® with Rettent? Karom. Although they are related, they have completely different habits and abilities. The waist-high, feathered lizards are called Gyors Rabl¨®, and although very intelligent, are not overly dangerous because no more than two or three individuals tend to be in one place and very rarely attack Elves. The Rettent? Karom is much more dangerous, hunts in packs of at least six to eight, and is also very intelligent. Of the two species mentioned, they are tall and featherless.¡±


    ¡°Thank you for the information!¡± nodded Prof ¡°Which of the two is causing the problems in the forests? The task is to hunt down the former, but according to the descriptions, I suspect it is the latter.¡±


    ¡°Exactly! However, I must warn you that the two of you will not be enough for the task! The alpha animal is a Level eight or nine elite, with at least six other adults in the herd, all at least Level five. I would think under a full party of five, the task is suicidal at your Level. I don¡¯t know if there are other adventurers or mercenaries in town, maybe you should ask around the guesthouses. Be careful though, if you see a Rettent? Karom, the others will have surrounded you already!¡±


    Prof thanked him for the help again (despite being sure, Foxy ¡°forgot¡± to translate some of the speciesist comments) and then discussed the information with Foxy on their way back to their own guest house. The high reward became understandable, and it was clear that the two of them alone had no chance against the pack.


    Another question was how much chance an unfamiliar party would have against relatively high-level, intelligent monsters, even if they found someone who was willing to team up. Eventually, they decided to inform the guest houses that they are looking for party members, and if someone was interested, they should contact them. If they managed to put together a capable seeming party, they would try to kill off the pack.


    Unlike Earth and earth games, counter-selection didn¡¯t work much on Arkadia ¨C anyone, who was unviable, a big-mouthed, arrogant nobody, or just an annoying little twerp, could be identified from his Character Parchment and without potential party members disappeared from the global gene pool really fast. According to Caoilfhoinn, no adventurers would come to a Red guest house, and they could forget the Greens and the Blues too, so far from their core area there was almost no traffic, that left the Yellow guest house, and the two institutions frequented by non-elves.


    One was frequented by the Grey, the other by everyone else.


    Before they set out, Prof asked about the different Elven races.


    ¡°Foxy, I now have met a few of the races. Can I hazard the observation that they are named after their hair color? Are there any other differences besides hair and eyes?"


    ¡°No, you are wrong, assigned color and hair color have just an accidental connection, there is a mystical meaning to the colors, but I think, it''s hard or impossible to understand for non-Elves. Even a lot of Elves don''t know the true meaning ¨C it has to do with the natural order and the cycle of being. I''m also not exactly familiar with the mysticism behind it all, if you are interested in a detailed explanation, you should bring a few of your Skills to around 150% and find a scholar of the matter."


    ¡°As for your other question, I heard that Humans are blind to Elven physiognomy, and obviously it¡¯s true. For example, look at my ears, they are typical Yellow ears, and are obviously of a completely different form than those of Caoilfhoinn, who has typical Red ears, or the Green ears of the Hunter. Do you see the difference?¡±


    Prof did not. They were pointy ears of a slightly different color with more or less fur or hair on it.


    ¡°Look, you probably don¡¯t see it now with how few Elves you met so far, but there are very obvious differences in how the different races look. You will get a hang for it.¡±


    Thinking a bit, Prof realized, the slightly avian features of the Yellows and the uncanny look of the Blues may constitute such differences.


    ¡°Of course, the difference is not just skin deep. While Elves can procreate between the races, it is proven, that we are related but different races. Cousins or sisters, maybe? For example, the Green''s skin can provide camouflage, the Blues can breathe and see underwater, the Yellows have a higher magic affinity, and so forth. That is somewhat tied to their mystical color. Elves can recognize each other''s race just by looking at them, even if we discount hair, eye, or skin color. Was that not something that was common in your world?"


    In fact, it was. Europeans could with a high rate of success recognize other nations but were helpless with far-easterner. Or anyone non-European. On the flip side, it was said a far-eastern not only could not differentiate between European nations but not even between European persons. Probably something like that was at play here too.

 Chapter 6: Teambuilding, Part 3

    After getting directions from Caoilfhoinn to the other guest houses, Foxy and Prof set out to visit them. First was the ¡°white¡± one, a two-story house on the edge of town. Just as they entered, they caught the end of a joke:


    ¡°I''m sorry, he said, I''m retiring! I got an arrow in my knee!¡±


    The loud laughter that followed the joke lasted for minutes, almost shaking the building. Prof was interested at some level in what this huge joke might have been that made half a dozen people laugh so hard but decided, he probably could not get the cultural reference anyways.


    Looking around the common room, he took stock of the audience: at the table next to the door, three men, looking like bandits laughed so hard they were spewing spittle. A craftsman was sitting in one corner giggling, behind him a heavily armed man in chainmail was standing, with profound boredom on his face. On closer inspection, however, Prof noticed that his eyes were shining vigilantly and he was watching the table company next to the door with one eye.


    In another corner, a woman spread out herself on the chair and grinned happily. Of all the audience, this woman was the most interesting: she was wearing high-heeled bright green ankle boots, pink knee-length socks, a camouflaged ¡°skirt¡± in Princess Leia style (that is, two strips of fabric reaching her ankles but split up to her hips), an open-belly carbon black t-shirt, and a red veil covering her eyes. She had countless different earrings and was wearing half a dozen rings on her fingers, and the veil was kept in place by an ornate silver tiara.


    Prof couldn''t decide if the woman was of the commercial affection, or if women on Arcadia were in fact allergic to normal, everyday clothing. But hey, even on Earth no man could really understand female fashion, and nothing was wrong with wearing boots with shorts and a shirt in "clashing colors". Foxy led Prof to the last empty table and gestured to the young bartender.


    ¡°I''d like some juice and bring him a beer!¡±


    As soon as the drinks were in front of them, Foxy began to whisper conspiratorially.


    ¡°Forget those three at the door. They are Level 6 and 7, but they are not looking exactly reassuring.¡°


    Foxy¡¯s Character Parchment told him in clear terms that she was paranoid, but in this case, Prof agreed wholeheartedly. He wouldn¡¯t have been surprised if they were really criminals and improved their income from burglary and robbery with some occasional mugging, and general banditry. Probably with added animal abuse. So maybe just regular Adventurers, but Prof still didn¡¯t like the look they had.


    ¡°If I¡¯m not mistaken, the couple in the corner is a merchant with his bodyguard, so you don¡¯t have to deal with them either. The woman is Level 6, but I have very bad feelings about her. Something is not right with her. And I''m not talking about her clothes!¡±


    Prof was always amazed at what he could have learned with high [Observe]. He tried to take a closer look at the strangely clothed woman, but he didn¡¯t notice too many new things on her ¨C the veil covered her hair and most of her face as well. In return, the woman also noticed his interest and smiled and began to wave.


    Prof hoped she wasn¡¯t an independent entrepreneur of a certain profession who had just found a new customer. Prof looked questioningly at Foxy, who just shrugged her shoulder: she told him her opinion, and the decision was Prof¡¯s. After some thought, he finished sipping his beer and with Foxy following him made his way to the other table.


    ¡°Ma¡¯am, my name is Prof, my friend¡¯s name is Foxy. May we take a seat?¡±


    ¡°Sit, sit, guys, tell me what you need!¡± She answered in a cheerful voice. From this point of view, Prof noticed a heavy leather jacket set on one of the chairs and a sword against the wall. ¡°Call me Mini!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s about a well-paying job in town, but according to our information, at least a full party of five is needed to solve it. We are looking for people who are trustworthy and are willing to come.¡±


    ¡°Oooh! Is it a massacre or a good little orgy?¡± Mini licked her lips. For a moment, Prof could have sworn he saw needle-sharp canines, but when he tried to take a closer look at them, they seemed normal again.


    ¡°Sorry to bother you, it was a misunderstanding," Foxy said suddenly. Prof looked at her incomprehensibly, and the woman leaned forward grimly.


    ¡° But why? I am gorgeous, in all modesty, I¡¯m a genius, I have unprecedented fighting skills, you should be happy to let me join you!¡±


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    ¡°I don''t trust vampires.¡± Was Foxy''s brief reply.


    ¡°That¡¯s speciesist, little wolf! You''re just jealous of my greatness!¡±


    ¡°I''m more afraid that the moment I don¡¯t pay attention, you¡¯ll suck my blood out!"


    ¡°Oh, little wolf, if I were to eat you, I would be very careful and you would enjoy every minute!" Mini stuck her tongue out, and though Prof still couldn¡¯t see her eyes, it didn¡¯t look like she was looking into Foxy¡¯s eyes or neck, but a hand span lower. He was pretty sure it wasn¡¯t about drinking blood anymore either - Foxy might have come to a similar conclusion because she turned to Prof, trembling.


    ¡°Prof, it¡¯s time to go. You can¡¯t trust a vampire, they¡¯re all completely insane and unmanageable! Come! Let¡¯s go!¡±


    ¡°Wait a minute, Foxy! Let¡¯s look at her character parchment first and decide based on it.¡±


    Foxy was apparently not thrilled with the idea, but after a short time, she nodded.


    ¡°All right, it doesn¡¯t hurt to get you used to other people¡¯s Character Parchment anyway and see what people with different Levels are capable of.¡±


    ¡°Oh, now do you want to see my most secret parts? I think I like you, Prof. You are so direct and demanding! Come on, I''ll show them to you! I hope you have time!¡±


    ¡°We didn''t mean that, bloodsucker!¡±


    ¡°All right, little wolf, if you want, you can come too!¡±


    ¡°We are curious about your Character Parchment, damn it!¡±


    ¡°Oh, you just want to watch? As you like, you don''t know what you''re missing!¡±


    ¡°Mini, can we see your Character Parchment?¡± Prof interrupted. He wasn''t sure if the Vampire did the teasing as a joke or was a serious and true pervert. Nevertheless, he started to get a headache, and if the girls had continued like this, it would have ended in bloodshed sooner or later. Or an orgy.


    Mini sent her Parchment over with a grin. As it turned out, her full name was Minerva Pannonii and she was Level 6, a Vampire (Human). Prof got his answer to his previous question.


    Mini couldn''t have been called gorgeous with only 11 in Charisma ¨C her whole being rather screamed vulgarly ¨C and with an Intelligence of 16, she wasn''t a genius either, but was still smarter than most. Her best martial Skill was a bit higher than Prof''s, and she got fourteen extra points of damage through her Perks, and the more damage she took, the harder an enemy she became.


    Not bad.


    However, her negative Perks were more problematic (not counting Nymphomaniac (2), which could be interesting), and Foxy was right: she was batshit crazy and probably unmanageable. She was Irresponsible, Cruel, Unscrupulous, Bloodthirsty, Narcissistic, and Sociopathic.


    ¡°It¡¯s my turn now! Show me your most secret parts!¡± Mini interrupted Prof''s deliberations with a grin. After Prof (and probably Foxy) sent their Character Parchments over, she licked her lips and started grinning even more ¡°Thanks, but I didn''t mean those!¡±


    ¡°If you want to see the most secret parts, go to the bathhouse!" Foxy rolled her eyes.


    ¡°You can only watch there, and that will get boring after a while and they always ban me from entering. I don''t understand why.¡±


    ¡°Prof, do we really want to continue this conversation?¡± Foxy apparently wanted to be somewhere else. Prof scratched his head.


    ¡°I have a suggestion: we''ll have to visit the dungeon anyway, Mini could come too. If she works out as a party member, she can tag along for the big task too. What do you say?¡±


    ¡°When are we going to hold the orgy?¡±


    ¡°What orgy? No orgy was mentioned!¡±


    ¡°All right, I see, you want to surprise me! Even more exciting!¡±


    ¡°Prof, seriously?¡± Foxy switched to a begging tone. ¡°Are you sure?¡±


    ¡°Yes, it''s worth a try.¡±


    ¡°All right, but I warned you!¡±


    ¡°Ye-Hay! We are going on an adventure and to an orgy!¡±


    Mini jumped out of her chair, shouting loudly. The other guests of the inn stared at them with a grin, incomprehensibly, or utter disgust. Mini apparently enjoyed the attention, and Prof was almost certain she was about to ask who wanted to watch or join. Even after reviewing her Character Parchment, Prof wasn¡¯t sure how much of the play was insanity and a running joke to upset others.


    Calling out her bluff could mean, he would realize it wasn''t a bluff at all or would lead to a very awkward situation. Prof decided to shelve the problem for a later date when he knew Mini better.


    ¡°We will check the two other guest houses too, and set out to the dungeon in the morning¡±


    He prevented the expected appeal, just to be on the safe side. Foxy quickly arranged with the bartender to let them know if there was a new guest who might look to be usable, and then they left for the other guest houses with Mini in tow.

 Chapter 6: Teambuilding, Part 4

    Leaving the guest house, Prof was surprised that Mini didn¡¯t burst out in fire, and she wasn¡¯t sparkling either, although there was enough bare skin to justify both.


    ¡°Mini, doesn¡¯t the sun bother you?¡± Prof didn''t know about vampires on Arkadia, but according to most of Earth literature, she should have been allergic to the Sun. The rest said she should sparkle or shouldn¡¯t be able to move during the day.


    ¡°Have you lived in a cave so far?¡± The vampire replied in amazement. ¡°Why would the sun bother me?"


    ¡°Well, I heard¡­¡±


    ¡°Hehehe, did you believe such nonsense? What else have you heard? Precious metals? Stinky plants? Hehe. Imagine someone may be spreading the word that we don¡¯t show up in mirrors or we can¡¯t cross water! Or sparkle! Hahaha! You are so funny! I¡¯m technically dead, not challenged in weird ways or allergic!¡±


    Prof didn¡¯t say anything further, not wanting to become even more of a laughingstock. He needed to get a crash course on Arkadian species from Foxy as soon as possible. And check, if there was a Skill for species profiling, probably mislabelled or with some other name since he did not remember seeing such in the rule book. Since there was a Skill for literary everything, he doubted, there was no such at all.


    Unfortunately, in the other guest houses, no guest would qualify as a party member, so they left a message behind for those interested to look for them and returned to their own quarters. Mini set off for shopping after the Yellow guest house and promised to wait for them in front of the Reds¡¯ guest house before sunrise the next morning.


    Prof¡¯s designated language teacher was already waiting for them, and he sat down at one of the tables without any further explanation, where some books and a chalkboard were already waiting for him.


    ¡°First of all, you have to learn to read and write, we will only start learning the language after that. Here¡¯s the Elven alphabet, with the Bergian equivalents. Start practicing!¡±


    The elf letters - 42 pieces, plus fourteen numbers! - somewhat resembled far-eastern pictograms, and Prof was at least grateful that the Elves did not use morphemes, syllables, whole words, or such as the base for spelling, he felt absolutely no desire to learn such a thing. Even learning new letters for a new language was enough for him.


    For the rest of the day, Prof played good schoolboy, practicing the whole alphabet over and over again. Caoilfhoinn looked at the chalkboard from time to time, corrected the writing here and there, and gave advice on the order in which to draw the lines to make the writing more legible. It was a fact, that her new teacher was much more decorative than his first one on Earth ¨C and even all his other teachers ¨C and she was kinder to him even when calling him a caveman and majom from time to time.


    Last but not least, Caoilfhoinn promised that if she didn¡¯t see enough progress, she would throw him out of the guest house and practice archery on him. Prof wasn''t entirely sure she was bluffing, after all, people in the vicinity of Reds tended to suffer lethal accidents. Or so people said. All in all, Prof was more motivated than in kiddy school.


    By the end of the day, Prof''s hand began to spasm. Before going to bed, he copied the entire alphabet as accurately as possible into his little notebook so he could practice a little on the way.


    The next morning, Mini was already waiting for them in the guest house¡¯s common room - and she immediately threw herself around Prof¡¯s neck as soon as she saw him. Her ¡°travel outfit¡± was even less practical than her previous day¡¯s get-up: to a deep blue evening gown ¨C which, of course, was split up to her thighs and was backless ¨C she wore knee-high infantry boots and a little pink hat with colored feathers.


    Her raven-black, shoulder-length hair, which had a buzz cut on the left, and a girly braid on the right became visible without the veil. The braid even had a pink bow. To round out the well-thought-out hiking setup, she put on a waist-length studded black leather jacket and held a white umbrella in her hand. She didn''t bother to hide her needle-sharp canines and red eyes this time, which made her race clear. For someone, who knew what to look for, at least.


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    As far as Prof knew, she could have belonged to another Elven race, if not for knowing the species from the day before. In front of the guest house, Mini''s mount was waiting for them, chewing on something with sleepy eyes. The food probably had sometimes in the past sleepy eyes too.


    ¡°A scorpionlizard?!¡± Foxy exclaimed in disbelief seeing the two-meter-tall, dark green lizard. It had two brutal-looking horns and a tail at least two meters long, ending in a wicked bone spike, with long, sharp teeth in its mouth, and a large suitcase and three backpacks strapped to the comfortable-looking saddle.


    ¡°Sure, what else? I don''t like horses.¡± Mini shrugged and climbed up into the saddle ¡°Forwards, Binky! Adventure and orgies are waiting!¡±


    This time, neither Prof nor Foxy reacted to the teasing, a half-seen smirk on Mini confirmed to Prof, that the vampire is just seeking attention.


    On the way to the dungeon, Prof interrogated the girls about the surrounding countries, the vampires, and the species he might encounter.


    As it turned out, Forestdeep, from where Mini came, lay north of the Bergian kingdoms ¨C Felseberg, Wanderberg, and Spieleberg from North to South - and the Halitchian Empire, and East of the Dwarven mountains. It was not a country in a strict sense, but rather a conglomerate of independent estates, species, and groups.


    Black and Gray Elves (as in both Fae and half-blood elves), Humans, and various undead found their place there in the same way as the last representatives of dying out species, whole lesser species, or persons who had fled or drifted there. Once someone got there and was able to fit in, they were greeted with open arms, regardless of gender, race, or specialization. Survival was not guaranteed due to the chaotic conditions of the place, so in return, the average level of the population was much higher than elsewhere, and a lucky and tenacious person could carve out their own estate in the area.


    There were no fixed external borders, it varied on the season in which estate considered itself part of Forestdeep or whether outside countries regarded a place as part of the greater "forest". Based on Mini¡¯s narrative and Foxy¡¯s comments, Prof simplified the local laws and politics in such a way that everything was lawful for which one had enough power to get away with it.


    The locals left the rest of the world alone and were somewhat friendly to Bergians, Elfs, and Dwarves (the latter were sometimes regarded as part of Forestdeep, despite everybody denying it), but the Empire repeatedly tried to invade them. The latent power of Forestdeep was made clear as all attempts at invasion had turned into a bloody fiasco. The locals called them dejectedly ¡°Gifts of Blood¡±.


    Mini originated from one of the Westernmost duchies where the nobility consisted of vampires. She didn''t tell much about her previous life, but from the comments she dropped, Prof had the feeling that she might have been a trusted vassal. Two years earlier, Mini had the opportunity to go through a Ritual and join the nobility. Her new race provided plenty of advantages, but in return, Mini lost twenty Levels and hundreds of Skill Points.


    Prof considered the exchange a bad deal at first, but after the women explained that vampires don¡¯t grow old and wouldn¡¯t die from natural causes, he realized the business wasn¡¯t so bad after all. After the Ritual, Mini was given the opportunity to explore the world and was basically told not to return until she reached Level 10 again.


    Since then she toured Felseberg, Wanderberg, and part of the Elven Domain. She had no further plans and was thinking about cutting through the rest of the Domain, looking at a place called the Valley of Torments in the West, and/or visiting the Greenskins. She even heard of Human territories West of the Domain with beautiful beaches and delicious food (Prof suspected, she wasn¡¯t talking about food).


    The Valley of the Torments was the place West of the Green¡¯s area that Foxy had previously warned Prof about. It was a river valley of ¡°country size¡±, although neither of them could give exact dimensions. Prof tried to fix it on his mental map based on what was said, but unfortunately, there were no common points of reference. Prof calculated that its North-South extent might have been at least four to five hundred kilometers, and East to West one hundred and fifty to two hundred.


    It used to belong to the Domain, but after the appearance of the Greenskins, it became a battlefield. Due to an unknown cataclysm or some high-level magic, both sides practically gave up on it, and since then a kind of no-mans-land (or probably no-elves or no-greenskins-land) spread between the two factions. According to some accounts, it was possible to cross the valley, but it was no life insurance to do so. Therefore, if one wanted to travel in an East-West direction, it had to be done in the North, through the Dwarves¡¯ mountains, or in the South over the sea.


    Since Dwarves were mentioned so often, Prof asked about them, expecting the standard Tolkien-ones with long beards, continuously drunk and waving around axes and war hammers. Unfortunately, he vocalized his expectations and earned echoing laughter.

 Chapter 6: Teambuilding, Part 5

    ¡°The Dwarves are really funny, where you come from.¡± Foxy said after she finally managed to catch a lungful of air ¡°Or you have read some really weird books. I don¡¯t even know, where to start!¡±


    ¡°The alcoholism!" Mini interjected, still with tears in her eyes after all that laughing "They are totally incapable of holding their booze. I once saw a twelve-year-old drink a whole company of Surface Infantry under the table. One after another. Drinking some low-grade piss that was sold as light beer." She started laughing again.


    ¡°Yes, and beards¡­" Foxy took over "Not only do they have no beards, but they also have no hair whatsoever!"


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t forget the deviants!¡± Mini could keep the laughing under control for a few seconds.


    ¡°Yes, thank, you. There are a few deviants, who got kicked out from under the mountains, and for some reason, they get false beards and horned helmets, and start calling themselves funny names.¡±


    ¡°Hehehe, I once met one with the name Blondie Wallsmelter-Stonesmith. Had a beard long enough that it stepped on it every other step. Tried to drink too, but the bartender just gave it juice. It still got drunk, because the juice was old and started to ferment. It was hilarious!¡±


    ¡°It? Isn¡¯t that a bit insensitive?¡± Prof could finally get a few words in.


    ¡°No. You see, Dwarves have no gender at all. As far as I know, they are grown in cauldrons. Big cauldrons! The current theory is, that they were made by one of the precursor races as a cheap working force, and got left behind when their masters died out."


    ¡°Yeah, my Duke once sent me over there to secure a shipping order, and wanted to see the vats myself, but no, those little buggers are very tight-lipped when it comes to their breeding and history. Even the deviants. They are no fun at all!¡±


    ¡°As for names, they probably heard about having one as a good thing and started to implement it in the past. However, they missed the point, so normal Dwarves have a name consisting of their occupation and some letters and numbers."


    ¡°Ok, I got it, but please tell me, their warriors use hammers and axes!" Prof was pleading at this point. His whole childhood and ideals about true Dwarves were crushed excessively cruelly.


    ¡°Why would they?¡± Both women answered at the same time. Foxy deferred to Mini in the regard


    ¡°Surface Infantry is exclusively heavy troops with long pikes. They almost never break, have seen them a few times. Farming Militia mostly uses farming implements, and Internal Security the classic sword-and-board.¡±


    ¡°What about smithing? Are they at least legendary smiths and stuff?¡±


    ¡°Not really. They are good with stone and have techniques for the more rare metals, but on average, they are no better than other species. If you want to buy really good stuff, stay with Elven-made."


    ¡°Actually¡­" Mini interjected "There are a few smiths in Forestdeep, that are even better than Elves. Most are undead, of course, and have been that for a long time. And I heard, the Greenskins have good smiths too. But Dwarves? Not particularly."


    During the conversation, they progressed a little slower than before with Shinead, but they still had time for a run in the dungeon. During setting camp ¨C which, in truth, consisted only of dumping their belongings in a pile and preparing the firewood ¨C Mini changed clothes. Her new outfit consisted of thigh-high fiery red boots, green shorts (or rather hot pants), and a light, lemon-yellow shirt (which was translucent, to begin with, and Mini only buttoned the middle three buttons) on which she put her leather jacket.


    All this was accompanied by fine leather gloves and a knitted bonnet with a tassel on top. Foxy just shook her head, and Prof worked hard not to stare at the sight. The final effect, with a sword (or rather a saber), dagger, and a quiver for crossbow bolts at her hips was interesting, and as soon as Mini noticed that Prof was looking, she took her double-grooved crossbow in hand and began to take on sexy poses with a wink. Foxy snorted.


    After Prof quickly summed up once more what to expect, they left their stuff with Mini''s mount and entered the dungeon. They thwarted the rabbits¡¯ charge without any problems, Foxy skewered them with her strange blades, and Mini didn''t even bother with the crossbow but kicked her victim against the wall, and then began to jump on the stunned rabbit.


    It wouldn¡¯t have been the most effective method of killing critters. If she had to face multiple opponents, it probably wouldn¡¯t have worked, but the result was as expected: they got flattened, trampled vaguely rabbit-shaped carcass.


    In the second room, the giant rat was not resting on the rock this time but was hiding next to one of the walls, but as soon as it moved, Mini¡¯s two crossbow bolts were already flying toward it. Foxy started collecting the drunken moss right after the rat died, and Prof started processing the rat. What else could have Mini done but pull off her gloves and grab into the moss before anyone could warn her. After a few grabs, she stood up in frustration.


    ¡°What a pity, the poison isn¡¯t high enough in level, I barely feel anything.¡± her eyes shone a bit more, but based on how fast Prof got stiff drunk, Mini¡¯s higher Health and Poison Resistance was a huge boon. Probably liquid panty remover did not have any effect on her either. Not like anyone needed that with a nymphomaniac. Ignoring the little fact that Mini didn''t wear panties¡­


    The third room was a little harder with the vines because only Prof could stretch and cut them with ease. The women had to get hold of them with their hands, causing Foxy¡¯s fur to stick together and her movement to slow down.


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    ¡°It has a paralyzing effect!¡± Prof warned the others again.


    Mini just shrugged, this poison didn''t affect her either. After a long time gardening, finally, the last vine fell to their feet. The division of labor still worked: Foxy gathered the usable, longer vines, Prof searched the scenic corpse along the wall and Mini¡­ Did poses.


    The loot this time was four and a half silver, an ornate copper belt buckle, one simple knuckles, and three armor-piercing arrowheads, far less than Prof had found in the first run. Prof assumed the loot handed out by the dungeon was related to the level of the party. It was interesting too, that the dungeon dropped Bergian coins, not Elven ones. Asking the women, they just shrugged: The behavior of dungeons was a similar mystery as Leveling.


    After a short break, they entered the mushroom room. Mini let her arrows fly into the mushroomed pig, and Foxy tried to cast a vine trap ¨C but the spell fizzled. Prof caught the first charge of the pig, and in the second one Foxy''s spell finally worked, so Prof could easily execute the piggy. With the looting done, they decided to defeat the raccoon too, the difficulty of the dungeon with three people was not too great.


    The tactics used against the boar were used again: Mini fired, Foxy tried to cast a spell (and again, it didn''t work), and Prof went into melee.


    ¡°Prof! Let it climb onto your head!¡± Foxy shouted. ¡°I can hit it more easily there!¡±


    Prof waited for the next attack and let the teddy bear run up his back. Foxy was right there and cut off the bear''s head with a lightning-fast combination!


    ¡°What was that?¡± wondered Prof.


    ¡°Battle Chi¡± Mini replied instead of Foxy. ¡°Niiiiiceee! I want the fur!¡± She added after a short thought.


    Prof hoped, he was able to skin it. In the first room, he only got two of the five rabbit pelts in a useable condition. While Foxy collected the herbs and Mini did poses, Prof skinned the raccoon carefully, concentrating especially hard ¨C and he was surprised that he succeeded. He searched the room once more, but instead of the statue, he only found a silver ring with jewels.


    On the way back, they made a detour to the crystal cavern but again found only small ones. Prof was pretty much happy with the run: they finished with few problems and very quickly, even if the loot itself wasn¡¯t huge. Counting the task the alchemist gave them and the things he collected above it, they gained fifteen to twenty silver per person - averaging about a thousand seven hundred Euros, while investing only two days!


    On the other hand, his new and shiny bearskin-suba cost almost twice as much, even if he took the fur off the Dire Bear with his own hands. He remembered the prices of magical items made of higher quality material, a simple run in a dungeon wouldn¡¯t even cover the monthly installment.


    After dinner, Prof practiced the elf letters a bit and hoped he could start learning the language in earnest in a day or two. He was about to schedule the watch when Mini told him that the lizard was perfectly suited as a guard, there was little that could approach them unnoticed, and it had pretty good combat values ??anyway. Prof looked at Foxy questioningly, who nodded.


    ¡°A scorpionlizard is enough protection. If it doesn¡¯t notice something or doesn¡¯t scare it away, we won¡¯t be able either. Besides, Mini¡¯s mount is a Level 20 Elite, I doubt it would lose if we three all attacked it¡­¡±


    Prof tried to settle comfortably on his bedroll, wondering if there were any instant luxury campgrounds in Arkadia that he had read about in several novels. There, you just had to pull out a stone from your pocket, and you got a holiday resort. He needed to get at least a tent. He was almost asleep when Mini snuggled under the blanket next to him.


    ¡°Hi! There were no chains and sexy parts in this dungeon! In other words, you have to perform now! Feel honored! Ohhhh¡­ How big!¡±


    Mini reached into Prof''s pants with practiced hands, her surprise being the size he modified during character creation. Prof fled the bedroll almost in a panic.


    ¡°Here? Now? So?¡± Because of his movement, his pants dropped down, which Mini considered an invitation.


    ¡°Yes! Yes! Yes! Unpacked it¡¯s even bigger!!! Prof, I feel like we''re going to be really good friends!¡± Despite Prof''s best efforts, Mini was starting to take off his underpants.


    ¡°Calm down, you two! If you want to mate, take a room!¡± Foxy snapped from across the fire. ¡°It has been a long day, I want to sleep!¡±


    Mini finally retired indignantly, winking at Prof for the last time. Prof really hoped Mini only wanted some casual entertainment and wasn¡¯t moved by some twisted ideas. Somehow he didn¡¯t want to move in with the vampire.


    The next day the run back to the town was faster, Prof pushed the pace to give Mini as few opportunities as possible to ¡°flirt¡±. This time, the vampire wore virtually only underwear ¨C and her usual leather jacket ¨C and gave Prof seductive glances, sometimes adjusting her breasts with theatrical movements.


    Prof began to regret not listening to Foxy, but was willing to bet he wouldn''t be able to get rid of the vampire anymore. He, on the other hand, had to admit that despite all her craziness, she was a good warrior ¨C more than useful in any fight.

 Chapter 6: Teambuilding, Part 6

    After they handed the ordered and excess materials over to the alchemist, and the herbs to the steward, Prof became richer by the equivalent of twenty-two silver, even after paying taxes.


    Mini negotiated with the furrier and the tailor to make her a fur hat from the raccoon fur, and Prof sold the two rabbit pelts for another five silver. At their guesthouse, Caoilfhoinn told Prof that he would not be allowed to eat until he had acceptably solved a prepared exercise. As at school, Prof had to write down the Elven alphabet for a while, then write his, Foxy¡¯s, Shinead¡¯s, and Caoilfhoinn¡¯s names in Elven script, and finally write a one-page report about the run in Elven letters but thankfully in Bergian.


    There was no problem with his own and Foxy''s names, but it transpired, he wrote the other Elven names by hearing, but officially they should have been written with completely different letters. So, Prof had to practice the two names, and for good measure, a few other common Elven names too. With the reports, Caoilfhoinn had no real problems, she corrected some spelling errors, and let Prof re-write the whole page. For his second try, she simply nodded appreciatively.


    Before going to bed, Foxy turned to Prof with a serious expression.


    ¡°Prof, we need to talk about something. According to one theory, Travellers attract beings of different races like magnets, and they then become loyal companions. According to some records, they formed complete harems for themselves. I haven¡¯t believed in this theory much so far, but now I¡¯m starting to suspect it has a basis in reality. You¡¯ve been here for just over a month, and you¡¯ve already befriended a Red Elf, a half-blood, and a vampire. The latter does not seem to have any problem with belonging to a harem at all. Isn¡¯t it suspicious that all three of your new companions are females? Do you intend to build a harem?¡±


    ¡°Honestly, it didn''t even cross my mind. I saved Shinead and you, let''s say, accidentally, I didn''t plan on forming a party. We recruited Mini against the what¡¯s-their-name lizards, and that was also not planned.¡±


    ¡°I doubt that the multi-species parties the theories and records speak of, or even harems, were planned and yet they happened. My question remains: do you want to build a harem for yourself?¡±


    ¡°Foxy, if things got together, I wouldn¡¯t say no, but on the one hand, I would never force someone to participate. On the other hand, I wouldn¡¯t be actively working for a harem. It looks like too much work and effort for the added trouble.¡±


    ¡°And the vampire?¡±


    ¡°Mini is for my taste¡­ too direct? Too slutty? Why?¡±


    ¡°Wouldn''t it bother you if she slept with someone else?¡±


    ¡°Why would it bother me? She doesn¡¯t owe me an explanation, we don¡¯t even know each other so much that I would have a say in what she does with or to whom. Anyway, she probably found someone to have fun for the night with by now.¡±


    ¡°Wouldn''t it bother you if I slept with someone else?¡±


    ¡°My answer is the same, we''re not grown together and you are a grown girl.¡± And Foxy wasn¡¯t really his type. Too much hair and fur. He was smart enough not to say it to her face, though.


    ¡°I see¡­¡±


    Intrigued by the sudden interest in his preferences for women, Prof went to sleep.


    The next week and a half passed peacefully, Prof learned the elf language ¨C he was coming along nicely, the letters gave him no problems anymore, and he could understand the gist of a conversation, if the others kept to easy words and spoke slowly ¨C, the party did some easy tasks in and around the city, and gathered in the evenings at either the Reds or Mini¡¯s ¡°white¡± guest house for a little chat.


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    During the gatherings, it turned out that despite all her mental problems, Mini was a great companion and radiated general good humor even when she became offended for some reason. Foxy and Mini became ironically quite close, and Mini kept trying to get into Prof¡¯s pants.


    Foxy made a few attempts to gain information about Earth through Dream Magic, but she had to realize that her current Skill and Mana Points were not enough. She would have to successfully perform several powerful spells in a row to have a chance at success. She hoped two or three Levels would be enough to succeed.


    The food in the guesthouse turned out as fruit and vegetables for breakfast and porridge with nuts and fruits for dinner. That was the ¡°free¡± option, they had to pay for anything else. Caoilfhoinn wasn¡¯t an overly good cook, so Prof and Foxy declined the chance to pay for any extra food, and mostly ate their lunch at Mini¡¯s ¨C it was cheaper and better.


    Unfortunately, there was no new applicant to hunt the lizards in the forest.


    After a week and a half, as they returned from one of the local assignments four Red Elves were waiting for them at the guest house. Prof haven¡¯t learned enough of the language during that time to understand what they had to say outside of a few words and phrases, and the elves couldn¡¯t or wouldn¡¯t speak Bergian, so Foxy had to translate again. After a short discussion, it became clear what was going on.


    ¡°Prof, good news, at least for Shinead. These four are survivors of the Clan and were hiding in the woods so far, a patrol told them that a representative of the Clan was here in town. They¡¯re not overly happy that a Human is a direct ally of the interim Clan Leader, but as the highest-ranking person in the Clan present, you can order them until Shinead returns. I would be very cautious, though.¡±


    ¡°All right. ¡°¨¹dv?z?llek benneteket, Kl¨¢nt¨¢rsak.¡° Prof summoned up a polite greeting. The grimaces of the elves said his pronunciation (and possibly grammar) was not up to the level of an artistic performance of classic Elven poetry. Probably not even for everyday survival. "Foxy, ask them, please, what their Levels and specializations are.¡±


    ¡°Prof, since you are a direct ally of the Clan Leader, in the current state of the Clan you are probably second in rank. If I¡¯m not mistaken, you can view the character parchment of clan members even without their permission.¡±


    ¡°I might have the right to it in theory, but in practice, I¡¯d rather wait for Shinead to actually permit me to do so. I don''t want to suffer an accident."


    Foxy shrugged, though it seemed that she wanted to slap Prof for wasting time. The elves listened to Foxy''s request, and after a short deliberation, sent Prof their character parchments. That''s not exactly what he asked them to do, but it still worked.


    Based on the three parchments received, one of them, a young man, was a Level 1 stealthy-climby archer, one woman was Level 7 and specialized in cooking, to the extent that she no longer used the general [Cooking] Skill but increased the [Chef] and [Butcher] Professions. By the way, she was also a pretty good alchemist. The other woman, who had surprisingly low Stats, had chosen Skills in [Agriculture], [Livestock Breeding], [Taming], and [Hunting], and was Level 6. The fourth elf was maybe eight years old (at least Prof pegged him to be a pre-teen in Human years), so he didn''t have a character parchment yet.


    Prof wondered what he should do with them. With the exception of the archer, none of them could be taken on an adventure, and even he was too low Level compared to the rest of the party. First, he asked Caoilfhoinn to give them a room and take care of their food. Their host obeyed without further problems. Either Prof had some power, after all, Shinead left some instructions behind, or it was customary for wandering clan members to receive accommodation and food without asking and extra command.


    Prof eventually discussed with Foxy and Mini what the newcomers could occupy themselves with. He immediately discarded some of Mini''s ideas about having a good time. After some deliberations and asking Caoilfhoinn, Ainmire, the archer, was sent to the public archery range (which was more like a standard commando training ground), Either, the chef, was entrusted with helping out in the guest house, but Prof didn''t really know what to do with Maoliosa, the farmer-animal woman and the little guy. Eventually, they were told to look for something to do for themselves.

 Chapter 7: Kickin’ Teeth ‘n’ Huggin’ Trees, Part 1

    Two days after the elves appeared, Caoilfhoinn greeted them with the message that the ¡°Town Chief¡± wanted to see the team as soon as possible. Since Prof figured, it wasn¡¯t a good idea to let important folks wait when they were summoned urgently, they left immediately.


    ¡°I welcome the representative of the Gyors Ny¨ªllvessz? Clan,¡± greeted the chief, who looked young even from an elf''s point of view. Prof felt no contempt in him, assuming that the courtesy was for his position in the Clan, not for him personally.


    Or he needed help fast. Even if someone is hated and looked down upon if it depends on their good mood whether the applicant gets some trainloads of modern weapons or a pair of armored divisions to protect their asses, a smile and common courtesy should not be underrated. Prof saw no point in taking advantage of the situation, and even though he was in a good position now, that could change very quickly.


    He greeted the elf politely.


    ¡°I want to offer a contract to the Clan. The road to Wanderberg is generally safe, but at least two merchants have disappeared in the last two weeks. Since the Gyors Ny¨ªlvessz? Clan used to oversee this border section, I suspect bandits have set themselves up in the woods. My offer is this: the Clan will find the bandits and destroy them. In exchange, I give you two Waterfalls in return.¡±


    Foxy poked Prof in the side, who immediately understood what the half-blood wanted.


    ¡°Sir, I''d like to take a few minutes to discuss the matter with my advisors.¡±


    The chief nodded and the team left the room.


    ¡°Quietly, they''re probably listening!¡± Foxy warned them. ¡°You are fortunate that the chief is so young, an older, more experienced nobleman would not have reminded you so harshly that the clan was virtually extinct, and to some degree, it is the clan¡¯s fault that bandits are raiding traffic on the road. The offered two Waterfalls are also quite a low pay for such a task, so it is an indication that the respect of the clan is low.¡±


    Prof consulted his notebook for the name of the denomination, exchange rate, and value of the proposed amount, and concluded, a Waterfall was the name for a hundred Bears, and it was a bit less than one gold in Bergian currency.


    ¡°Should I refuse the contract?¡±


    ¡°Don''t even think about refusing! If you refuse, you admit that the clan is unable to complete the task, thereby tarnishing the clan''s reputation. As soon as your little elf girlfriend finds out, you would be dead.¡±


    ¡°Then should I accept the contract without any bargaining? A gold is still a nice amount, even if divided into four.¡±


    ¡°No, you''re wrong, the pay goes to the clan you will get nothing, you have only the right for half of the other loot. Which will be, according to our contract, divided into three equal parts. I wouldn¡¯t recommend bargaining right now, but rather set it all up as an insignificant trifle.¡±


    Prof thought about the situation, then nodded. It wasn''t ideal: he would see nothing of the payment, the other loot would be taxed and from the net amount he would get only one-sixth¡­ He hoped the missing merchants were at least rich. They returned to the Chief''s office.


    ¡°Sir, on behalf of the Gyors Ny¨ªlvessz? Clan, I accept the contract. We got bored anyway, and a little practice wouldn¡¯t hurt our young hunter either.¡±


    The chief nodded and provided them with a written contract ¨C naturally in Elven ¨C so Prof had Foxy check the legalese. When Prof signed the contract, he caught the chief smirking, so he probably did it wrong. Probably he needed a seal or something, but since no objections were raised, he assumed the contract was valid even so. As soon as they left the office, Mini took his arm.


    ¡°Finally! A little adventure and a bloodbath! Treasures! Slaves! Can we keep a pair for the next orgy?¡±


    ¡°I didn''t even know that slavery was legal here.¡± Prof turned to Foxy.


    ¡°No, in the Elven Domain it is not, but it is in Forestdeep and the Empire. Rather, except in some countries, the sale and purchase of intelligent beings are illegal, but the possession of beings purchased elsewhere is legal.¡±


    ¡°Mini, unfortunately, you can''t keep them as slaves." Prof turned to the vampire in fake sadness.


    ¡°No problem, we''ll have the orgy on site and then bleed the survivors out. I''m thirsty anyway.¡±


    Prof didn''t say anything about that. He knew very well that vampires were closely related to mosquitoes, ticks, leeches, and lawyers, meaning they suck the blood of others ¨C if they killed their enemies anyway, at least they could improve their party member¡¯s food situation. The bigger problem was that there were still only three of them, four even if counting Ainmire. Plus Mini¡¯s Scorpionlizard, Binky. A little few to smoke out a bandit''s nest of unknown power.


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    Prof had two ideas on how to solve the task: get a cart, disguise themselves as innocent passers-byes, trap the bandits, or send the more stealthy members forward to capture and interrogate one of the freelance tax collectors and then hunt down the rest one by one.


    The first option, unfortunately, had a serious setback in that Arkadia did not have cart rentals and Prof did not have the money to buy one. The others were spectacularly unwilling to participate in the increase of the party''s road mobility, leaving only a second chance. However, there were also problems with that option: Prof, as the best melee, was completely unsuitable for stealth, and although Mini was good enough for melee and stealth, the Irresponsible Perk made her less suitable for solitary and unnoticed hostage taking, and Foxy was outside of combat chi not the best in melee.


    Eventually, they decided that Foxy and Ainmire were going to look for an unwilling informant together, and if they got into trouble, they would retreat to the hiding place of Prof and Mini. If they managed to catch a bandit, they would bring him back and Mini would start interrogating him. It all depended on what they learned. Prof and Foxy were forced to reluctantly invest in Health Potions ¨C on Mini, being technically dead, unfortunately, they had no effect.


    Early the next morning, they set off on the road to Wanderberg, watching closely for any clues to the missing merchants. Their elf archer was of great help to them, with [Tracking] a little over 100%. It was already late afternoon when Ainmire pointed to a half-overgrown path.


    ¡°He says he thinks a wagon passed through the path not so long ago, and someone tried to disguise this afterward. It would be worth looking around there.¡± Foxy translated. Prof nodded and together with the Elf he began to search the area.


    As it turned out, the path was camouflaged for only about ten meters, then transformed into a simply neglected cart trail. A few dozen meters from the main road, in a dip between the trees, they found the missing merchants: they lay beneath a thin layer of dirt, carelessly tossed down and completely plundered. After a brief discussion, Prof and Mini settled into the branches of a larger fallen tree, and Foxy and the elf hunter set out in search of a lone bandit.


    Mini, of course, took advantage of the tight space, snugged close to Prof, and her usual light outfit didn¡¯t stop Prof from taking a closer look at the vampire¡¯s more interesting body parts.


    ¡°Hey, Mini, I noticed this earlier. You have a lot of clothes, you change them all the time, but you always keep your leather jacket on. Why is that?¡± Prof tried to find a neutral subject.


    ¡°I simply love the jacket. It looks so good. And, by the way, it¡¯s worth more than all my other garms combined. Tyrant lizard skin with pretty strong enchantments. But I see, it bothers you that it''s on me, I''ll take it off right away!¡±


    Prof should have guessed that stripping and making advances would be the end of the story anyway.


    ¡°What is a tyrant lizard?¡± Prof wondered if it might have some connection to the iconic carnivore he knew from certain movies.


    ¡°A two-legged Boss-category fucker, more than ten meters long, two people tall, brutal teeth. It could swallow Foxy with one bite. Powerful hind legs but shrunken hands. Unfortunately, it''s quite rare, you can make great things out of it! Its blood can feed an entire family for half a year, for example.¡±


    Based on the description, Prof was pretty sure that parallel evolution may have been quite widespread in the multiverse. Or Arkadia¡¯s main boss has been collecting interesting species for millions of years. Because of the train of thought, a suspicion awoke in him.


    ¡°Mini, how would you translate the names of the lizards we have to hunt?¡±


    ¡°Hmm¡­ Fast Thief or Fast Robber. Possibly Fast Predator. It depends.¡±


    That didn''t help Prof out much. He was never interested in ancient lizards to memorize the meaning of Latin and or ancient Greek names ¨C assuming a similar name was given to the same beast on Arkadia. He was sure, however, that the name of the other iconic bastard had something to do with speed. But why did a different name appear in the job description than what they actually had to hunt down?


    Foxy and the elf did not return until sunset, so Prof and Mini set up for the night, leaving the guard to Mini''s mount. Mini positioned herself until she could maneuver herself into Prof''s arms, hugging Prof''s waist with one leg - the whole position and pose reminded him of a cat. With the proviso that a cat didn¡¯t want to mate with its pillow.


    Despite all the discomfort, Prof slept especially well, but in the morning he woke up to Mini rubbing herself against his waist and trying to untie Prof''s belt.


    ¡°Mini, seriously?¡± Prof asked half asleep.


    ¡°Yes, I have to, now! You''ve been exciting me with your proximity all night, now you don''t want to! What an evil man you are! Come!¡±


    Prof was saved by the fact that Foxy burst out laughing behind the fallen tree.


    ¡°I would have bet it would come to this! Don''t let me disturb you!¡±


    ¡°Oh, Foxy, come on! And bring our little elf friend too! It''s time for an orgy!¡±


    "Not now, Mini, we found a bandit and we brought him for you!"


    ¡°You''re the best girlfriend in the world! Excitement, play, and food in one!¡±

 Chapter 7: Kickin’ Teeth ‘n’ Huggin’ Trees, Part 2

    Prof was not entirely sure that, normally, the definition of a prisoner ever included any of the above words, but from the point of view of a mentally disturbed bloodsucker, it probably fits.


    The bandit lay somewhat beaten up and tied up like a ham under a nearby tree. To Prof he looked somehow familiar until he realized that weeks ago, he was one of the bad guys in the ¡°white¡± guest house.


    ¡°Wake up, Breakfast!¡± Mini kicked the bad guy in the side. It was unclear whether Mini called the bandit breakfast or tried to wake him up with the promise of breakfast. After a bit of slapping and kicking and still no reaction, Prof poured a glass of water into his face, which finally brought the desired result.


    ¡°You''re going to die!¡± was the bandit''s first reaction ¡°I¡¯ll fuck your corpses!¡±


    ¡°Hehehe, I''m officially dead, so we can start right away!¡± Mini glowed. She immediately began to unbuckle the bandit''s belt as she muttered something about someone finally appreciating her greatness.


    ¡°Ehem, Mini. Could the play and food wait? We should interrogate him while he is still useful.¡± Foxy held her back.


    ¡°Do you see what envious peoples I''m surrounded with? You finally appreciate me and promise to have an orgy, they won''t allow it! Well good, then first the excitement, the secrets!¡±


    The bandit''s eyes had been starting to fall out at this time. It was understandable, it was not every day that a guy was kidnapped by a two-legged werewolf and then almost got raped by a lightly dressed crazy woman. And the best part was yet to come. Mini practically leaned into the prisoner''s face, looked into his eyes without any species-specific illusions, and began to speak in a voice dripping with hatred, contempt, and general evil.


    ¡°Little maggot. You¡¯ll answer my questions, and if you¡¯re a good little maggot, maybe you wouldn¡¯t suffer for too long. I hope you won''t be a good little maggot.¡±


    ¡°This is the [Intimidation] Skill at Work, and in addition, Stern Look¡± Foxy poked Prof in the side ¡°If I''m not mistaken, she also uses her blood magic to temporarily increase the effect of the Skill. Ewwww, that''s disgusting!¡±


    The latter was meant for the bandit, who was now really seriously intimidated going after the puddle that began to spread between his legs, and from the smell, a muscle in the back also let go. The bandit, trembling, pale, and in tears, begged Mini not to hurt him.


    The interrogation went along quickly under these circumstances: the bandit gave an exhaustive answer to all their questions. Their gang consisted of five people, one Level 7, one Level 6, and three Level 4 were in the camp; the camp itself was about half an hour away from the point where Foxy caught him, in a ravine between two smaller hills. The prisoner was heading to the border town in Wanderberg to find out if there would be a more interesting merchant from there in the near future.


    The gang broke away from a larger group about three weeks ago - hearing the latter information, Foxy raised her brows and quickly found out that it was that gang that had destroyed Shinead''s clan. Although the prisoner did not know the exact purpose of the attack or the client, he repeatedly saw a half-blood elf in the camp talking to a wizard. In his opinion, the half-blood could have been the boss, but he did not know if he was the contractor or just the contractor''s agent.


    Foxy jotted the half-elf¡¯s description down, so she could talk to Shinead. At the end of the interrogation, Mini turned away from the bandit in disgust.


    ¡°It got dirty, so I don''t want it anymore. Foxy, will you get me a new one? Or you, Prof? You won¡¯t regret it!¡± She winked at them with a clear hint. She looked back at the prisoner briefly, then shrugged, ¡°However I''ll have breakfast. Hehe.¡±


    Prof suddenly had very important things to do in their camp, somehow he wasn¡¯t overly curious about Mini¡¯s eating habits. He also vowed never to infuriate the vampire enough to get applied this kind of intimidation to him. He was soon joined by the grimacing Foxy.


    ¡°She''s overdoing it a bit. It could have been done less spectacularly.¡±


    ¡°Anyway, how does this blood magic thing work? I didn''t see a Skill for it on her character parchment.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not a Skill, but a racial knowledge or trait, just like the limited illusion that covers her teeth and eyes. As long as she has a blood supply, she will be able to apply the knowledge in every case. For them, it''s like walking or rather digestion. There¡¯s no special Skill for them either, and yet they work. Not everything is regulated by Skills here, don''t forget it! There are Perks and racial traits too!¡±


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    Mini finished the bandit a few minutes later and began searching him. Being careful not to touch his pants.


    ¡°Foxy, he has nothing! I''m unpacking and there''s nothing in it! Where is the game part of the surprise?¡±


    ¡°On the one hand, you were the only one waiting for a toy, and on the other hand, you just wanted to play with him as a toy¡­¡±


    ¡°Yes, but it got dirty! I deserve a clean one!¡±


    ¡°Actually, when we caught him, we searched him to be on the safe side and took everything away. He didn''t have much, roughly a silver worth of pocket change, a small knife, and a mace.¡± Foxy handed the loot to Prof with a grin. ¡°I think his other belongings are at the camp.¡±


    After everyone else had breakfast too, they set off for the bandit base. Prof had an idea or two of how they could attack the camp, but he wanted to make the final decision based on accurate knowledge of the location.


    After a few hours of comfortable walking, they reached the hills described by the eaten bandit. The party carefully crawled closer, and Prof was able to inspect the camp and its surroundings. The hill opposite them, and one end of the valley ¨C or rather just a larger ravine ¨C was quite steep, though it wasn¡¯t quite unclimbable, anyone who wanted to go there could face some serious difficulties.


    The hill they were on at the moment was much more gentle, but in return, it was densely overgrown with some prickly bush. The top of the hills and the other end of the valley were covered with dense forest. At the bottom of the valley, the bandits had cleared the bush in a token effort, leaving enough room for half a dozen tents, a campfire, and some covered piles that Prof assumed were the looted goods.


    Below one of the more rocky parts of the hillside opposite, some tethered animals were visible, a mixture of horses, mules, and donkeys. Only three bandits could be seen in the camp, two sitting around the campfire snacking, the third chopping wood a little further away. After Prof surveyed the place, they retreated cautiously.


    ¡°My idea is this¡± Prof began after settling in the trees, ¡°Mini and Ainmire will start shooting at the camp from the opposite hillside, while Foxy and I wait on this side. If the bandits seem to want to flee or prepare to counterattack, we will attack them in the back. No need to overcomplicate things.¡±


    The others just nodded, there was no objection ¨C either they had no better idea or they trusted Prof''s plan. Mini, her scorpionlizard, and the elf archer immediately set off for their ambush, while Prof and Foxy crawled back to the top of the hill. After a short wait, they carefully descended halfway. Prof didn''t want to risk going any closer because of his low [Stealth] and [Climbing] Skills, and he was almost certain that the Heavenly Game Master was already preparing the dice in his hand, waiting for Prof to do something that would justify rolling them.


    Fortunately, Prof did not need to climb down a cliff, the situation would have been much more embarrassing there. About a quarter of an hour after they reached their chosen point, the bandit cutting the tree collapsed, with an arrow in his throat and two crossbow bolts protruding from his chest. The other two bandits sitting by the fire didn''t even notice at first that the number of criminals present had dropped by twenty percent ¨C and then they didn''t have time to react.


    One was shot by Mini and the other by Ainmire. The victim of the elf archer did not die immediately, he still had time to cry out painfully and throw himself behind a prepared pile of logs. He wasn''t completely covered, his legs were sticking out from behind the pile, which Ainmire took advantage of: after several unsuccessful shots, one finally nailed one of the bandit''s legs to the ground.


    The first shout had alarmed the two remaining bandits who rushed out of their tents in underwear with weapons in hand. They had enough common sense to jump behind cover almost immediately, so the arrows and bolts coming toward them soon enough could not hurt them. To resolve the stalemate, Prof gestured to Foxy and they began to approach the camp carefully.


    ¡°Can you tell me from here what level they are?¡± Prof asked in a whisper


    ¡°No, I haven¡¯t seen them for long enough. We need to get closer.¡±


    ¡°All right. I will take the one with a higher level, please indicate which one you are attacking.¡±


    Foxy just nodded. They were already on the edge of the camp when the half-blood was finally able to take a close look at the two cowering bandits. Foxy pointed to the left one, then inched toward him. Prof waited for a few moments, then started in the direction of the other bandit, sneaking to the best of his ability.


    36% [Sneaking] was enough to approach Butch Cassidy¡¯s local (not very talented) apprentice to about four meters. The bandit looked at Prof with widening eyes for a moment, but immediately jumped up and assaulted Prof, waving his two short swords. Unfortunately, this prevented the archers from shooting him bravely in the back. Prof immediately saw that he would not be able to handle his opponent alone ¨C he was too good (or too high Level).


    On the other hand, the bandit did not have too many options either: if he were to defeat Prof or try to escape, the two archers would have shot him dead in short order. Prof did not even try to attack, but only defended to buy time. A few minutes later, Foxy finished the other bandit ¨C her spell accidentally did not fizzle this time and vines burst from the ground, fixing Prof''s opponent in place. The highwayman (Prof would have rather called him a bywayman at this point) immediately realized he had lost.


    Throwing his swords far, he raised his hands.


    ¡°I surrender! Take the loot, just let me go!¡±

 Chapter 7: Kickin’ Teeth ‘n’ Huggin’ Trees, Part 3

    ¡°Not so fast, we still have a few questions¡± Foxy replied, then searched the prisoner with trained hands and finally tied his arms back. ¡°You had business with the Reds'' base. Start talking before the others get here. Our vampire practices a slightly bloodier version of interrogation than we do.¡±


    The prisoner in waiting turned pale as he looked from one of them to another and decided to take it seriously. The Brothers Grimm did not tell stories as coherently and deeply as he did: The gang he was the boss of, like a few others, was hired specifically for the attack by a Grey Elf who introduced himself as Guillermo.


    He did not know what the reason for the attack was, but it was strange that most of the loot did not interest him, he only took a few books and worthless little baubles with him. Most of the gangs followed him somewhere after the attack, this smaller party hadn¡¯t managed to loot anything overly valuable, so they decided to supplement their earnings with some local robbery.


    The fairytale afternoon was just over by the time Mini and the elf archer arrived ¨C the latter looking to Prof for help as he tried to straighten his hair.


    ¡°Foxy, what should we do with our dear friend? What is the punishment for banditry and murder in the Domain?¡±


    ¡°In this case, the Reds would have the precedence to judge. Willowflower or the local prince could only decide on reparation afterward. Given that the Reds tend to impose quick and final penalties, especially on non-elves¡­¡±


    ¡°OK, I get it. I have no desire to pass judgment, so we will keep our friend for Shinead.¡±


    ¡°Can I play with him?¡±


    "If Shinead says yes then yes. In the meantime, don''t touch him, Mini.¡±


    The vampire went over to the wounded bandit pouting and then dragged him back to the campfire.


    ¡°Hehe, you didn''t say anything about this specimen! It''s time for lunch!¡±


    The capitulated bandit didn¡¯t know what scared him more: the prospect that the Reds will judge him, or Mini¡¯s presence and eating habits. Maybe it was Binky, who walked lazily to him, licked his face, and lay down across his feet. With the prisoner¡¯s guard thus solved, the party embarked on every creature''s favorite post-battle preoccupation: looting!


    After the camp was turned upside down, they found about two gold worth in cash (Bergian and Elven currency both) ¨C half of which belonged to the Clan, that is, what remained was divided by three for thirty-three silver per head.


    Examining the covered goods, it was found that at least one cloth, one fur, one spice merchant, and one jeweler may have fallen victim to the gang. The good news was that the goods were legally theirs, although they had to register them in the nearest town and put them on market there ¨C of course at a discounted price.


    That wasn''t too much of a problem, Prof didn''t intend to open a general store chain. In the case of the animals, the situation was somewhat more complicated: the previous owner had two weeks to apply, and only then could the finder get them. The most surprising thing about the whole loot was a creature sitting in an iron cage set into a small hollow: it looked like a love child of a wolf and a two-legged lizard. Its hands and feet were reminiscent of a lizard, its legs, arms, and head were more like a wolf, while its body and tail were somewhere in between.


    ¡°A Kobold? Here?¡± Foxy wondered.


    ¡°Missssy no hurt Sssssharpclaw!¡± The perhaps waist-high creature immediately begged Foxy in a high, hissing voice. Its tongue also looked like it belonged to a lizard. It spoke Bergian, but with a catastrophic heavy accent.


    ¡°What do we do with it?¡± Prof scratched his head helplessly


    ¡°If you let it go, it won''t have much of a life expectancy. Elves shoot Kobolds without asking questions later here in the Domains. They aren''t well-liked among Humans either.¡±


    ¡°Sssssharpclaw ssssserve missssster!¡± The Kobold nodded in Prof''s direction.¡± Sssssharpclaw faithful! Misssster give Sssssharpclaw nyam-nyam, Sssssharpclaw sssssmellssss trap! Sssssharclaw good Trapsssssniff!¡±


    ¡°That''s actually not a bad idea. None of us are good in [Traps]. Show me your character parchment, I''ll be able to decide based on that.¡±


    The Kobold nodded, and within moments Prof was able to verify the numbers of Sharpclaw Shackelton, a twelve-year-old, Level 2 female Kobold.


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    Her Perk¡¯s result was that she was hard to hit in melee, could sneak around perfectly, and if she managed to land a surprise hit, the victim had little chance of survival (the damage increased sixfold!). However, due to her low Stats and negative Perks, she was completely useless in anything relating to science.


    The fact that she talked big and couldn¡¯t stand the cold was almost irrelevant.


    ¡°Foxy, why are her Stats so low? And that Red Elf also had surprisingly low ones.¡±


    ¡°Probably there are no such differences where you came from. Each creature falls into one of three categories: Normal, Elite, and Boss. Of course, every race has a different chance of being born into one of the categories, as far as I know, almost 50-50% of Humans fall into the Normal or Elite category, and maybe 10% into Bosses. Elves have a two-thirds chance for the Elite category, smaller greenskins, and lizards, so goblins and kobolds, for example, have a two-thirds chance of being in the Normal category. As far as I know. For certain monsters, the newborn will almost certainly be an Elite or Boss. The higher a category someone is born into, the better their Stats, the more points they get.¡±


    ¡°Am I right with the supposition that the lower categories don¡¯t have a chance to get in a better position then?¡±


    ¡°Not necessarily. It all depends on whether your Stats, positive and negative Perks, and Skills are sufficient to fill the position. At the Academy, for example, one of the most respected researchers was in the Normal category, while the cleaning lady was a Boss. To the best of my knowledge, Humans and other species have similar attitudes.¡±


    ¡°At home, the higher categories start with an advantage,¡± Mini added to the conversation. ¡°For that, the expectations are higher too. If you are intelligent enough, you will give way to the more competent ones. The dumb ones usually get themselves killed.¡±


    ¡°Natural selection?¡± Asked Prof


    ¡°Something like that.¡±


    ¡°I understand. Sharpclaw, how did you manage to get here?¡±


    ¡°Trader buy Sssssssharpclaw bad Humanssss, wantsssss sssssell Sssssharpclaw other bad Humanssss. Bad Humanssss kill traderssss. Lock Sssssharpclaw. Give no nyam-nyam!¡±


    ¡°All right, Sharpclaw. You can come with me, you get to eat, and you help us in return. All right?¡±


    ¡°Sssssharpclaw all right! Misssster give Sssssharpclaw nyam-nyam?¡±


    Prof dug up some food from his backpack and pressed it into the kobold''s hand.


    ¡°When you''re done, come, help to pack up.¡±


    Taking stock of the liberated loot lasted until late in the afternoon. Based on the spice merchant''s merchandise, he was perhaps closer to a dealer, although there were fifty portions of good spices in the pile (list price roughly 200 silver), most of his wares consisted of thirty kilograms of fine tobacco and thirty kilograms of pot ¨C both being completely legal everywhere. These two items alone were worth nearly six hundred silver.


    More problematic was an additional ten kilograms of other recreational material, of which, according to Foxy, at least half was illegal in the Domain. Prof had no problem at all throwing the smuggler at the authorities. More money and points in the reputation system.


    Another pile revealed cloth: next to better-quality wool, there was velvet, silk, and some high-end spider silk. And five beautiful rugs. Prof had to guess but the list price of the textiles should have been somewhere around 950-1000 silver!


    The last pile hid the fur trader''s goods: in addition to a large amount of rabbit, beaver, and raccoon pelts, it also contained fox, marten, ermine, lynx furs, and even a leopard fur! Another at least eight hundred silver!


    The real jackpot was in the head bandit¡¯s tent in a locked chest, namely polished and raw gemstones, silver and gold jewelry, a handful of magical copper, bronze, and silver rings, plus three real treasures. The first one was an ornate, magical headband made of platinum, the second was a pair of magical white gold earrings adorned with various blue gemstones, and finally, for lack of a better word, a large silver Asclepius wand with a gold snake on it with emerald eyes. All three being magical.


    Foxy immediately started identifying the haul, while the others continued looting. They also collected a bag of used clothing (20-30 silver), half of them bloody, a couple of completely average weapons, (swords, knives, axes), a ball-and-chain flail (30 silver in total), and some ordinary light leather armor (30 silver). A total of two pieces stood out from the entire pile of combat gear, an above-average quality blue steel short sword (fifty silver alone) from the commander and an above-average quality matte black wooden one-handed crossbow (Prof could not figure a price for that, but it was worth at least a hundred silver).


    In addition, they gathered enough food for a few weeks, some not-so-good alcohol, and two crates of quality liquor: ten bottles of almost black wine, and ten bottles of clear booze with some glittering stuff swimming in them.


    ¡°Blood Wine from Forestdeep and Elven Glitter Brandy¡± Mini enlightened Prof. ¡°You can sell a bottle for two or three silver almost everywhere. Not bad! Can we keep it?¡±


    ¡°I see no reason why not.¡± replied Prof ¡°There are some things I think would be a shame to sell.¡±


    ¡°I''d be interested in the spider silk and leopard pelt,¡± Mini nodded. I have a few ideas about what kind of garbs I can order to make of them. You would like it too!¡± She winked unequivocally. Prof had a suspicion of what kind of ¡°clothes¡± the vampire was thinking of.

 Chapter 7: Kickin’ Teeth ‘n’ Huggin’ Trees, Part 4

    The rest of the loot was not overly interesting, with mixed personal items, a total of three complete camping gear, and six tents. Prof was especially pleased with the latter, at least they didn''t have to spend money on them anymore.


    The three horses and two mules and donkeys each came in handy as the bandits recycled the wagons and carts to firewood. Prof hoped the owner would not apply for at least some of the animals ¨C keeping them would mean a huge saving or not lugging around stuff.


    Not counting the jewelry that Prof definitely wanted to keep as an easy-to-manage investment, they could expect a good fifteen gold income, even at discounted prices, so around 250 silver per head! Twenty-five Grand in Earth currency! A real fortune for a two-day job! Prof''s capitalist drooling was disturbed by Foxy, who finished identifying the magical items.


    ¡°Prof, the rings aren''t overly interesting, half of them give only some bonuses for [Commerce]. This one is the best, giving a full twenty percent.¡± She showed a well-worn bronze ring. Prof wasn''t really concerned about it giving ¡°only¡± twenty percent, he immediately put it on his finger


    ¡°Then there are two that increase Luck if the base is below 12, meaning neither of us can use it. This one will increase your HP by five, and this will detect if you have alcohol in your hand. I don''t really understand why that is important and how it makes sense.¡±


    While Prof threw the ring that gave HP to Sharpclaw (she had the least HP and every little bit helped), Foxy also democratized the alcohol-detecting ring and one of the [Commerce] ones. Prof wasn¡¯t bothered, he planned to distribute everything available to the party after all.


    ¡°These three are more interesting ones. You better check yourself, it''s harder to tell.¡±


    <u>The Explorer¡¯s Headband</u>


    As long as the headband is equipped, the wearer has the Perks: Explorer, Sense of Direction, and Pioneer.


    Value: 125 silver


    <u>Earrings of the Martial Artist </u>


    The wearer of the earrings gets 10 extra Chi Points every ten hours and every Battle Chi spell costs only half for 10 minutes every ten hours.


    Value: 120 silver


    <u>Healer¡¯s Wand</u>


    The wearer can once a day ¨C if healing is successful ¨C heal every ailment of one person and heal him back to full HP.


    Value: 150 silver


    There was no question that the earrings would go to Foxy, and Prof kept the headband for himself since it supplemented his [Navigation] Skill and his Perks nicely. They couldn''t do anything with the wand at the moment, there was simply no one who had a high enough Skill to use it ¨C but that didn''t mean they would sell it.


    Since it was clear that there was no chance of getting back to Willowflower that day, they decided to spend the night in a bandit camp. The corpses were dragged to the entrance of the valley, and the chief bandit was imprisoned in the cage Sharpclaw vacated. Mini was apparently massively overcharged with energy from the two bandits, and she also apparently wanted to do something with that energy.


    Prof skillfully excused himself, their elf archer simply disappeared to patrol, so the noble task of entertaining a vampire noble fell to Foxy. A few hours later, when the girls deployed the bandit leader too, Prof was fed up with the sound effects and moved to the top of the steeper hill. The show presented down in the ravine was a whole new dimension for people with niche interests in certain movies. To Prof¡¯s surprise, Sharpclaw was already waiting at the top of the hill.


    ¡°Misssssterssss femalesssss loud!¡± she complained ¡°Bad to hide! Enemy hearsssss! Enemy sssssurprisssse femalessss! Missssster be angry! Sssssharpclaw guard!¡±


    ¡°Thank you Sharpclaw. I hope they stop soon.¡±


    They didn''t stop for a long time.


    The next morning, it was quite surprisingly difficult to get started. Those who tried to sleep or did the guarding on top of the hill were as tired as those who had a good time down in the camp. Only Mini was still full of energy.


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    The way back took all day, they arrived late at night, and had to drag the bandit leader on the ground, he was so squeezed out. By the time the loot was unloaded, and the animals and the bandit leader put away in the Reds'' stable, it was long after midnight.


    The next morning, around noon, they checked in with the village chief, leaving the loot and the animals behind. Prof only took the illegal stuff (and a bottle of the good booze each) with him, he wanted to finish their task, and maybe get some extra for informing about the local drug dealer. He brought the drinks as a gift ¨C it never hurt to be on the good side of the local boss.


    There was a lot of preparation done in the square in front of the building, a tall pine tree was decorated with all kinds of colored ribbons, and next to it something like a stage was built, and stalls were erected in several places in the square. Being summer, Prof assumed no Christmas market was being built, no matter how similar the thing was. Although, the whole show started earlier each year so it actually was an early start for the Christmas rush after all.


    ¡°They''re getting ready for the Midyear celebration" Foxy answered his unspoken question, then added, seeing Prof''s slightly incomprehensible expression, ¡°On that day the Sun will be in the sky for the longest time. The other three major holidays are Blooming, Leavesfall, and Year¡¯s End.¡±


    ¡°Let me guess! They are celebrated at the spring and autumn equinoxes, and the shortest day?¡±


    ¡°Exactly! Each species and culture considers different holidays to be the most important, with the Blooming Festival being the most important among elves in general.¡±


    ¡°In Forestdeep, we consider the Feast of Bones to be the most important thing,¡± Mini added. ¡°We bring sacrifices for the dead so they could rest in peace till they are needed again. I remember a few years ago there was an insane Bone Knight who preached how exclusionary, racist, speciesist, and hateful the whole holiday was and we urgently needed to make it much more inclusive.¡±


    ¡°Have you changed your habits?¡±


    ¡°No way! We remembered an even older sacred tradition: we scattered its bones among the estates and put its skull on a spear at the largest place for holding the Feast. Its ghost can enjoy the view for a few hundred years. Since then, we hold an extra ceremony there every year, and everyone can laugh at the Bone Knight swearing. It¡¯s really funny.¡±


    Prof shrugged. It was not too polite to badmouth the centuries-old traditions of others, especially if those traditions are practiced in one¡¯s home country. If you go to Rome, speak Roman! Or at least Latin.


    Luckily, they didn¡¯t have to wait long for the chief, and the transaction was fast too. Prof recounted how the bandits were defeated, what they captured, and what they experienced ¨C specifically the Grey Elf army and their involvement in the siege of the Clan. The chief was not overly delighted that the bandit chief would be judged by the Clan, and the presence of the Kobold made him especially outraged.


    At least the discovery of the drug smuggler, and especially the two bottles of luxury booze more than offset this. Regardless, Prof was warned not to let ¡°it¡± roam freely, because ¡°it¡± could easily run into an arrow by accident. The chief¡¯s adviser promised that the revenue officers together with merchants and craftsmen would visit them within an hour to count and appraise the loot. As they left the building, Foxy hugged Mini and Prof with a face glowing in happiness.


    ¡°I Leveled up! I have been waiting for this for some time! We''re going to celebrate tomorrow! Let''s see¡­ I do need [Magic: Dream], I should put some in [Magic: Floramancy] too, and in [Observe]. For the rest¡­ Hehehe, Mini, you''ll enjoy this!¡±


    ¡°Ooooh! A present! I deserve it, I''m the best! I have to get gifts!¡±


    Prof just shook his head. Since the night in the ravine, Foxy basically clung to Mini, and the vampire didn¡¯t harass Prof that much. Maybe, this situation could keep up for a time.


    They had previously decided what they wanted to keep for themselves ¨C jewelry, magic items, the two better quality weapons, the luxury alcohol, camping gear, three bolts of spider silk and silk each, the leopard skin, and of course the non-illegal recreational things for Mini ¨C so it didn¡¯t take long to put these items in separate piles.


    By the time the valuation team arrived, including the steward, the local tailor, the tanner, the alchemist, the blacksmith, and a few people Prof had no clue about ¨C everything was ready. Like in an Arabian Bazar, the bargaining, estimating, and dividing began. As it transpired, some of the looted stuff had owners, who could prove their ownership, so they could not keep those and only got a small ¡°Finder¡¯s Fee¡±.


    Every last piece of loot was inspected, evaluated, and sold at a heavy discount to the present merchants and craftsmen. Prof was beginning to regret not throwing all the stuff in a pile and setting it on fire. It would have meant less hassle. At the end of the haggling, they still had to pay taxes (at a few different rates), tolls, duties, levies, and a few other things, so in the end, each of them got about 150 silver worth of currency, though, they kept the food, the remaining alcohol, and a few other small things (including a dagger for Sharpclaw).


    Prof was devastated. Almost a full gold per head was stolen from them because of the discounted prices, previous owners making an appeal, and the evil practice of paying taxes and imaginary other contributions.


    ¡°I feel cheated¡­¡± he cried.

 Chapter 7: Kickin’ Teeth ‘n’ Huggin’ Trees, Part 5

    ¡°That''s probably because you were." Foxy patted his back "Fully legally, though. You were still lucky, that the prince is a Yellow, with a Blue you would probably have gotten nothing at all, still fully legally. As you probably have realized by now, Elves don''t really like other species, and parvenus even less so, so we have a lot of laws that make you pay through your nose, and there are a lot of taxes and contributions that are normally only optional, but against a non-Elf, they would be applied. I know of a few that the prince could have applied here but did not. Be grateful."


    Prof was grateful. Very grateful. He only hoped that the owners would not report for the looted animals, so they at least would have cargo carriers. He wasn¡¯t planning to open a logistics company, but with, say, three out of the seven captured equines they would have enough transportation.


    As they planned, the party visited the festival the next day - Mini was, of course, wearing some provocative pieces of fabric that could be called a garment only with great reservations. Prof would have defined the holiday as a typical village day: the local song and dance ensembles performed on the stage, artisans, and vendors nestled in the stalls, and there were lines in front of the street food and sweets stands.


    There were even games: the patrons could throw and shoot stuff for a couple of Leaves and win prizes. Foxy told him, that in bigger cities they use Goblins or Kobolds as targets, not the painted boards like in Willowflower, and in the capital, they sometimes even have some of the larger Greenskin or Lizard species.


    Mini supplied, that using undead was more convenient, they could be reused next year, and if they weren¡¯t hit by Critical Hits, the damage wouldn¡¯t even be large. Perhaps the biggest difference (not counting the live-fire exercises against other lifeforms) to a Central-European village day was the costumes. Almost everyone put on at least a mask, and many dressed entirely in costumes.


    ¡°The costumes and masks symbolize family ancestors or legendary characters, as well as fairy tale figures associated with summer.¡± Foxy explained to Prof. ¡°See that girl over there for example.¡± She pointed to an elf dressed only in underwear and a red cloak, with two wooden daggers attached to her waist, and her mask forming a smiling face with big eyes.


    ¡°She¡¯s dressed up like Fiona the Fast. I don¡¯t exactly know why these are her symbols, it¡¯s something like she had dealt with the enemies with the two daggers in. At least that was what she was known for. Then there¡¯s that fox-masked man with a foxtail tied to his belt. The Summer Fox, a popular fairytale hero, is always in trouble, but also manages to get out of it with cunning. As far as I can see, the prince is dressed as the Spirit of the Trees. He symbolizes the eternity of the forest, the power of the wilderness. An interesting choice from a Yellow, the character would have fit a Green better.¡±


    Around noon the competitions started: short-distance running, hurdles, long jump, mixed gymnastics, and archery. The main attraction was a chase, a girl dressed as a rabbit had to be caught and taken back to the stage. Prof didn''t really understand the rules, a mage sometimes painted random areas in different colors, depending on the color, either the "rabbit¡± or the ¡°hunters¡± were not allowed to enter or leave the area, and the audience could even block the ¡°hunters¡±.


    Pretty much the whole town was having an excellent time. Prof could have bet in the beginning that the dozen of ¡°hunters¡± would win easily, but surprisingly, the ¡°rabbit¡± won in the end. When she received her prize after general congratulations, it turned out that Caoilfhoinn, their host, was the ¡°rabbit¡± and she had won the contest for the tenth year in a row.


    Even after the hunt was over, her opponents were genuinely happy with the rabbit¡¯s victory, carrying her around on their shoulders with great laughter.


    Before the big concert in the evening, Prof and others sat down under a tree to talk. Prof was already curious about a thing or two that he had never had the opportunity to ask before.


    ¡°Say, Mini, why do you always call Foxy Little Wolf?¡±


    ¡°What do you mean? That¡¯s her name.¡±


    ¡°How does Foxy Delahaye mean little wolf? I¡¯m quite sure it doesn¡¯t have that meaning in any combination in Elvish. That much I have already learned.¡±


    ¡°Because it¡¯s not in Elvish! In my tongue, Fokssi de la Haye means Little Wolf from Haye. Sure, the two alphabets are completely different, and the pronunciation is a little different, but Foxy is close enough to Fokssi to make Little Wolf the result!¡±


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    Prof was sincerely amazed at this profound linguistic accomplishment, it was amazing to have some meaning in one language for a word in another! Even if it was spelled and pronounced differently. ¡°Truth be told, my name is in the Wolf-Brown dialect of Elvish. Foxy there means Rabid Person. My foster parent came from Forestdeep, and had the last name Delaheye, though.¡±


    ¡°Is that why Shinead called you the Rabid right away?¡±


    ¡°No. That¡¯s a nickname that stuck with me since I was a child and has nothing to do with my name. Among the Elves, I''m usually called Farkas Hayeb?l. Due to the peculiarities of the Elf language, it also has a lot of extra meanings, some not really flattering.¡±


    ¡°Where did the nickname come from?¡±


    ¡°Ehmmm¡­ Let¡¯s say, short temper.¡±


    That was strange. Foxy did have the Impatient negative Perk, but being impatient was different from having a short temper. Since obviously, Foxy did not want to talk about it, Prof didn''t dig further.


    The conversation then turned to Foxy¡¯s and Mini¡¯s past adventures, their future plans, and so on to local conditions in general. They both indicated that they would definitely follow Prof for a while, neither of whom had a specific plan. This was also true for Prof.


    It was assumed that Shinead would start hunting down the clan¡¯s attackers anyway, which was as good for spending time as anything else. It was suggested that after the attackers were hunted down, take a look at the Valley of Torments as well as the small kingdoms to the West of it.


    As it turned out, the northern third of the continent was mostly uninhabited and vastly unknown, so Prof did not dismiss the idea to organize an expedition there in the footsteps of famous Earth explorers. Prof hoped that, unlike a significant number of Earth explorers, they would not disappear without a trace, and the natives, petting their full bellies would deny that they had ever been there.


    First of all, they had to wait for Shinead to return or hunt down the two-named beasts.


    The evening concert was given by a group of musicians who were said to be famous in the Domain, and the ¡°lighting¡± was provided by some magic users. Prof would have pinned the style close to folk rock, which was a pretty big change from violin-harp-flute folk music during the day. Despite not using pyrotechnics and electronics, the show wasn¡¯t bad either, they solved a lot of things with magic that wasn¡¯t possible on Earth. The illusions of winged thingies flying over the audience, for example, looked particularly good.


    Mini tried to get them to dance shortly after the show started, but unfortunately, none of them excelled in either [Dancing] or [Party], (in fact, Mini didn''t either, but she wasn''t prepared to be held back by such little things), and they didn''t want to mingle too much, so the vampire threw herself into a crowd of a few hundred alone. Prof was almost certain she would have a good time - or would be arrested for sexual harassment.


    A welcome surprise of the evening was, that a Wolf-Brown (Prof decided to stick with that addition, so he could refer to the right Elven race, next to Fox-Brown and Cat-Brown) mage reported to them. He heard about the task to hunt the beasts and was willing to join the party for the hunt.


    In contrast to Earth-idea about cute cat- and dogeared girls, the Beastkin-Elves (or at least the Wolves, Prof haven''t met Cats and Foxes yet) on Arkadia looked like beasts walking on two legs and having opposable thumbs. The mage was wearing only a loincloth, not unlike the fake one Foxy wore. Prof was already aware that Elves only wore clothing for convenience and had nothing against being naked, obviously, the Wolves did not even make that minimal effort.


    They had fur, so why wear clothes? The Wolf, named Oisin, agreed to wait a week for Shinead to return, but could not wait much longer. Prof really hoped, the Red Elf would return in that time frame, so they could have a full party for the hunt. If she returned later and the Wolf left, they had to find a fifth member again ¨C and given that they didn''t have much luck finding adventurers for their party in the last weeks, Prof didn''t put much hope in replacing Oisin on short notice.


    The week after the holiday was spent in quiet again, Prof progressed well with learning Elvish, and since the party had solved virtually every minor task around town, the days were largely idle. On the evening of the seventh day, Prof decided that they would go hunting the next day even without the elf girl when finally Shinead arrived late in the night. She was visibly exhausted and fell into her bed without any further conversation, so the report was left for the morning.


    Foxy, Mini, and Prof had already finished breakfast ¨C they sent the mage back to his guest house since it was clear, they wouldn''t be able to go on the hunt that day - when Shinead joined them. She had more tattoos than before (a broken cross on her left cheek, bloody tears beneath her eyes, crossed daggers below a crown on her right temple), and the bird above her eyebrows also received more additions and color.


    She also put some piercings into her nostrils and left eyebrows.


    It started to get a bit overboard with how many decorations she got ¨C and there were probably a few more elsewhere, Foxy told Prof a bit about how the Reds inked a lot of body parts with their achievements.

 Chapter 7: Kickin’ Teeth ‘n’ Huggin’ Trees, Part 6

    ¡°How is the language learning coming along?¡± She asked right away, in Elvish.


    ¡°I¡¯m making good progress! Seven five wait¡­ seventy-five¡­ how do you say percent? Oh yeah, percent,¡± Prof. replied. He was certain, he had a heavier accent than a bodybuilder from the mountains who moonlights as an actor, but hoped it was enough for Shinead. ¡°We have news about the¡­ attack too. We caught a¡­ bad person? Who was involved. He says he was hired by a¡­ grey, no, the other grey elf. He called himself Guillermo.¡±


    ¡°Where is this bandit? And what is a bloodsucker doing here?¡±


    ¡°Prof hired me, baby. And I speak Elvish.¡± Mini interrupted


    ¡°Fantastic. Every time I leave you alone, you pick up a woman.¡±


    ¡°Honey, you shouldn''t leave your stallion alone! Or don''t be jealous afterward!¡±


    ¡°Girls, can we go back to the original topic?¡± Prof interrupted quickly. ¡°The prisoner was placed in the barn. Sharpclaw is guarding him.¡±


    ¡°Sharpclaw? Did you pick up another woman?¡±


    ¡°Oooh! Our man is so wonderful that everyone just throws herself around his neck! Even a Kobold! Regardless, he only wants you! And I¡¯ve tried everything!¡±


    ¡°You brought a Kobold to town?!¡± Shinead ignored everything else Mini said. She left for the barn immediately, with the others in her wake. Sharpclaw, as ordered, watched the bandit leader tied up in a commercial for hard-core bondage with her dagger in her hand.


    Luckily, the Kobolds were a patient species, Mini said a restless Goblin would have gone crazy with the inactivity in half an hour. If the interrogation would have depended on Shinead, they would have learned nothing, but Mini stood behind the Elf unobtrusively and winked and waved at the bandit.


    They did not learn any new information, the leader told the same story as back in the camp. Shinead only thought some after hearing the Grey Elf''s description. After the interrogation, they returned to the inn, and Shinead asked the host to get the survivors of the clan.


    ¡°Did you learn anything useful?¡± Asked Prof.


    ¡°Yes and no. I do not remember the name Guillermo, though it is unique enough that I should not forget. Based on the description of the person, I do have an idea about who it might be, but that person is dead. I saw with my own eyes that his throat had been cut.¡±


    ¡°Who was he?¡±


    ¡°He lived in a village in the Clan¡¯s territory for a while, and he absolutely wanted to join the Clan. As much as we explained that as a cur, this would never happen, even if his mother was a Red Elf, he did everything so we would let him join. His existence was simply an insult to the clan, what did he think?¡±


    ¡°How did he die?¡±


    ¡°After not learning from the educational beatings and getting on the nerves of a veteran hunter, he had an accident.¡±


    ¡°A cut throat is an accident to you?¡±


    ¡°Of course! If someone intentionally walks into a bared knife multiple times with hands tied back, what else could it be called? Suicide?¡±


    ¡°You''re absolutely right.¡± - replied Prof. Accident it was. If shooting yourself in the back several times with your hands tied, then cutting off your head and throwing it through the window of your house two kilometers away, and this is considered a clear suicide by the local police and court, why not have an accident in the described way?


    ¡°I assume it was a thorough accident and he didn''t survive? Or would the bandit have recognized if it was an undead?¡±


    ¡°It was a very thorough accident. The severed head somehow ended up on a spike.¡±


    ¡°After such an accident, it is impossible for him to turn into an undead.¡± Mini added, ¡°At least not into one that could be mistaken for a living person by anyone with more than three points in Perceptions and Intelligence.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm¡­ If the description is correct and he is quite similar to the person who suffered the khmmm¡­ accident, they were most likely close relatives¡± Foxy concluded. ¡°What do you know about relatives?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not interested in a cur¡¯s relatives, and the whole thing happened a few years ago. There were no relatives in the village, if I remember correctly, which of course means nothing.¡±


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    ¡°Do you have any way to investigate the past and present whereabouts of this Guillermo?¡±


    ¡°The past is harder, at most I can ask around if he has ever shown up. The location would be perhaps simpler: if he traveled with a lot of Humans in the Domain, it would have been conspicuous. If he had visited a larger settlement, even alone, he would have had to register himself. All this assuming Guillermo is his real name, not just an alias he introduced himself as to the bandits. I doubt any of them looked at his Character Parchments. If, on the other hand, they have left the Domain¡­¡±


    ¡°Leaving the Domain reminds me of¡­¡± Prof interjected ¡°We have accepted a task, we have to kill off some critters around here. We found another party member we¡¯d hopefully be enough with, we were just waiting to see if you arrived and wanted to come with us. Would a departure tomorrow be OK for you?¡±


    ¡°What kind of critters?¡±


    ¡°What was the translation? Shy¡­ no, scare, scary nails?¡±


    ¡°Terrible Claw¡± Foxy helped out.


    ¡°Ah, those bastards. Five will probably be enough, but I would bring my surviving archer too.¡±


    ¡°Plus Sharpclaw and Mini¡¯s mount¡± added Prof


    ¡°What should we do with a horse? The lizards would eat it for breakfast!¡±


    ¡°Hey! Binky is not a stupid horse! He¡¯s a Scorpionlizard from the Bloodystone breeding grounds! He¡¯s a Level 20 elite!¡¯


    ¡°Why did I think you were picking up ordinary people, Prof¡­¡± Shinead shrugged resignedly. ¡°Anyway, I ran into a little problem with the Grand Master. As it turned out, there is a requirement for a minimum number of clans, namely three. I was forced to nominate you and Foxy as a clanmate. I stirred up a big scandal with this, but at least it turned out there was no law for other species for clan members so far, everyone was convinced that the custom was based on a rule. In any case, it was quickly announced that a new clan could only be formed with Reds from now on, and if there were not enough Red Elves in a clan after a period of grace, it would be considered extinct. Fortunately, the Clan had survivors, so our future is secure. So, Prof, congratulations, you are the deputy Clan Leader and Foxy is the Clan''s chief mage.¡±


    ¡°Shinead, I know you''re not fond of other species, and since you have enough survivors, I¡¯d like to resign from my position¡± Prof suggested. He wasn¡¯t sure it was a good idea to lead a racist-specieist organization as a member of the race-species the organization was created against, even if it was just a legal trick. In the end, he would be forced to really lead the gang.


    ¡°There¡¯s a small problem with that: the appointment lasts for the rest of your life, or the Clan Leader doesn¡¯t dismiss you. In the latter case, it is mandatory to start a hunt, which leads to the first condition. In other words, if you don¡¯t want me to cut your throat, you''ll remain the deputy.¡±


    ¡°All right, but I''m not thrilled.¡±


    ¡°Look it this way: you don¡¯t have a lot of work to do right now, and in the future, we''ll come up with some rules for you to keep the title, but don''t have tasks, responsibilities, and rights behind it. Believe me, I''ve thought it over! Anyway, you Humans have such a short lifespan, the Clan will be able to tolerate you for a few decades.¡±


    ¡°WOW, Prof became an important person!¡± Mini began to applaud. ¡°Can I join the clan too? Say, as the chief torturer, or as the official concubine of the deputy Clan Leader and Chief Mage?¡±


    ¡°NO!¡± Shinead snapped immediately. ¡°I don¡¯t want to get more non-Elves, I will only hire allies from now on!¡±


    Mini was apparently disappointed but eventually began to grin. Prof was sure she figured out something sweet that had to do with orgies so she could do what she wanted. Perhaps it was better than a sociopath was not recruited into a speciesist organization dealing in strange accidents.


    Meanwhile, the survivors of the clan also arrived, so Shinead quickly briefed them on what positions Prof and Foxy would occupy in the clan from now on. Although the survivors were visibly surprised (and a bit disgusted), there was no disagreement ¨C whether it was because they had already accepted Prof and Foxy, or the Reds had a habit of not questioning the Clan Leader''s decisions, it was not clear.


    After the introduction, Shinead conducted the bandit¡¯s trial ¨C Prof acknowledged the efficiency. On Earth, it was possible to prolong even the most trivial of trials for years and years, here the verdict was ready after five minutes. It helped a lot that the victim, the investigator, the accuser, and the judge were the same person, the accused confessed voluntarily and without any torture or threat, and no one involved a lawyer who would have saved the accused from the laws.


    At the end of the quick trial, the verdict was not at all surprisingly harsh and bloody: a slow death. If Prof understood the conditions right, the bandit would face a full day and an hour of suffering, which Shinead entrusted to the four survivors. After the four Elves left the inn with an evil grin, Shinead also excused herself, wanting to investigate Guillermo''s past and present.


    She estimated they would receive some news in about a week ¨C about the same time the authorities'' lock on the animals would expire, so with little luck they would not have to spend money on mounts.


    The next morning they were finally able to set off on the lizard hunt. Since they have already localized the territory the pack considered its own hunting ground, no special tracking and searching was needed. It took more time to actually find the pack in the hunting area, and the search wasn''t helped much by the fact that only Shinead had good [Tracking], Prof and the Elf hunter were far behind, and the others were virtually unusable.


    In the end, the whole tracking and searching were for nothing, the prey found them faster.


    ¡°Oh, fuck, seriously?¡±

 Chapter 8: Lukewarm Pursuit, Part 1

    ¡°Oh, fuck, seriously?¡± Prof was swearing.


    The day started so well, a nice hike in the woods to kill off some critters for money, and what came out of it? Ambushed by said critters! The first sign of trouble was when a very typical ¡°krrrk-kek-kek¡± sound sounded from behind a fallen tree.


    The overgrown chicken that peaked over it, sent Prof into another swearing fit. He knew that lizard, or should he call it Dinosaur from back on Earth. A whole franchise was built on the back of those buggers! Obviously, the Administrator collected monsters for a long time. In this case, it was a smart idea: if the movies were right, the Raptors were the very best hunters in all of history. And since movies always told the truth and nothing but the truth¡­


    The party was in for a tough fight.


    ¡°Gather around!" Prof commanded, "They are probably already around us!"


    As they decided previously, Prof took the front with Binky on his right, Shinead on his left, and Foxy in the back. Mini, with her double-grooved crossbow in hand, was behind her mount, Ainmire, the archer from the Clan on the other side, while Oisin stood behind Foxy. Sharpclaw, as the weak link in the party, was left in the center, and should only participate in the fight cautiously.


    Weapons in hand and ready for carnage, they waited for the inevitable bloody fight to start.


    And waited.


    ¡°Do they know that we were ambushed and now they should start attacking?¡± Foxy asked after five minutes. Mini nodded.


    ¡°Probably they are waiting for us to introduce ourselves. It¡¯s the polite thing to do.¡±


    ¡°Maybe we should start running in panic.¡± Foxy hazarded


    ¡°Or split up the party. That always went well.¡± Prof was not sarcastic at all ¡°Or send out someone on his own. Also a proven method.¡±


    The two new members, Oisin in particular, were so impressed by such profound tactical wisdom they held their faces with their hands.


    ¡°Idea good!" Sharpclaw agreed "Koboldssss alwaysss sssend trapsssniff and fodder in firsssst. Trapsss no working after!" She maybe didn''t realize, she was the only trapsniff or fodder currently on the team. Or realized it and expected it to be sent in.


    ¡°Where did that first one go?¡± Shinead asked ¡°I have the highest [Tracking], I will take a look. I will probably be able to follow the trail¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s all get over together.¡± Prof cautioned.


    Shinead shot him a strange look but agreed for the others to come too. The trail was more than clear, even Mini with her abysmal Skill could have followed it ¨C assuming she cared. Which she did not. The prints led to a glade with man-high grass. Prof stopped the others.


    ¡°There is no way, we should go there. It¡¯s a trap! Foxy, can you do something with the grass? Make it reveal the lizards or something else?¡±


    ¡°I will try.¡± Either the spell was easier or the few points she put into the Skill made the difference, but it didn¡¯t fizzle this time. ¡°The spell is telling me there are at least six creatures in the grass, probably a seventh too, but that was visible for only a short time.¡±


    ¡°Good. Burn it down. It¡¯s the only way to be sure! Oisin, you are on.¡± Prof commanded.


    The Wolfkin was better in casting than Foxy was (not much of a surprise, [Floramancy] was a secondary Skill for Foxy, but [Fire Magic] was a primary for Oisin), and not one of his spells fizzled as he flattened the clearing with fireballs and firecarpets.


    The lizards shrieked and gathered for a full head-on assault.


    ¡°Level 5 and 6 Normals!" Foxy informed them before leaping into the air and kicking one of the trademarked monsters in the teeth. [Battle Chi] ruled, and Prof was envious. He read the Rulebook, and haven''t even realized how big a cheat [Battle Chi] was. Or he realized it, but didn''t care about the necessary extra Perks to be able to use it, he wasn''t sure.


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    To get over his envy, he transformed the head of another Terrible Claw into mush with two well-aimed Critical Hits. Mini shot her lizard in the kidneys twice, Binky lazily ate his with one bite and Shinead gutted the one before last. Only their mage and archer had any problems with the last one, neither having good melee Skills or powerful single-target Spells (or Mana).


    Their Kobold simply faded away.


    Everyone turned on the last remaining enemy, but before they could finish it, they were jumped by three further, uninjured ones, a big one sporting bright green scales on its otherwise greenish-brown hide. Reinforcement has arrived.


    Prof was able to intercept the most dangerous looking one ¨C the big one ¨C Foxy kicked one of the smaller ones away, but the others were well out of position. The last uninjured lizard jumped on Ainmire, who could dodge it only by the skin of his teeth and rolled away, losing his bow in the process.


    The last lizard of the initial batch meanwhile landed a heavy hit on Oisin, knocking him out of the fight. Just before the mage was gutted by the wicked claw on the foot of the Terrible Claw, Sharpclaw appeared behind him and performed a perfect assassination.


    Despite being a low-level normal and armed with a shitty weapon, she was very good at utilizing her Skills and Perks. Or she was so good at it because she was a low-level normal. Be as it may, the lizard was almost bisected by the other lizard. Another enemy down.


    The unengaged lizard from the reinforcement wasn''t unengaged for long. Or alive. Binky''s tail spike drilled into its stomach, and the lizard was pulled into the mouth of the other lizard. There were too many lizards around to keep count¡­


    Foxy squeezed her lizard¡­


    No, not going there.


    Foxy punched her enemy hard, her chi-enhanced hits finally breaking probably every last of its bones. That left only one Terrible Claw, the pack leader, which was held back by Prof. The Elite lizard was a harder enemy than the Dire Wolf or the Dire Bear he had fought previously, the extra Levels were telling.


    That, and the completely different fighting style. The Wolf just lunged and tried to bite, and the Bear swiped at him, but the raptor tried to jump and gut him with its wicked claws, tried to bite him, tried to shoulder-check him so it could gut him, and even swiped its tail at him.


    Again, Prof could barely do more than defend himself. He managed to land a few hits, but the damage was slight. That was until Foxy arrived with a chi-powered hammer kick, Mini shot her crossbow at the lizard and Shinead tried to flank it. Dazed by the kick, the trophy aspirant could not defend against Prof''s coordinated strikes with both his axes.


    Its head fell to the forest floor.


    ¡°That was easier than I thought¡± Mini observed


    ¡°Yeah, never underestimate overwhelming firepower.¡± Prof agreed.


    And it was helpful that he saw that documentary franchise too. Never enter man-high grass when dangerous animals are around. Never split the party. Never send out someone on his own. OK, you can do that, but only if you want to get rid of him.


    ¡°What do you think, can I have something nice made out of this leather?¡± Mini asked. Prof was undecided.


    ¡°Probably. If you spend enough money, you can have nice stuff made out of even trash.¡±


    After bandaging their mage and giving him a Health Potion, it was time for looting again. Since Binky ate most of the two copyrighted dinosaurs, they were left with seven carcasses.


    Only Prof and Shinead were barely proficient in Skills useable for processing dead animals, so they had the honor to get themselves bloody. The claws were easy, they could even save those of the eaten ones, next were some teeth, bones (that were not pulverized by Foxy or Prof), hearts and livers, and a lot of meat.


    Unfortunately, from the seven possible hides, they could save only four, plus some tattered rags.


    After burying most of the remains, they discussed finding the pack''s nest. It was technically not part of the task, but they hoped to find eggs or juveniles for some extra money. Shinead managed to find the possibly right tracks after a few hours of walking in circles, discarding false clues, and running into a few dead ends.


    Barely an hour of walking after that, the tracks lead to a field, largely covered by ferns with a few patches of man-high grass. Even the ferns were high enough to make observation difficult and could have hidden quite a few monsters and animals. Foxy tried to flood the field with her detecting-through-plants spells, but it was slow going because every other spell just fizzled. She was visibly annoyed after a time, without even finding something interesting.


    They finally gave up on detecting with spells and searched the rest of the field the conventional way. They did find a nest, but it contained only a couple of hatched eggs, and although they found tracks of juveniles, the next generation of Terrible Claws was not found.


    They were almost ready to leave the field when Prof''s Scavenger Perk started tingling. Poking around a bit, he found the scattered bones of a previous explorer. No valuables were found, only a bronze locket with the enamel painting of a flower inside. According to the others, the explorer was most probably an Elf, and the correct thing to do was to bring back the skull to the village to forward it to the relatives.


    Returning to Willowflower they visited the chief first and were immediately greeted by him.


    ¡°Well done on the task. Before we finalize our deal, would you please present your Hunting Licenses?¡±

 Chapter 8: Lukewarm Pursuit, Part 2

    ¡°My what?¡± Prof had a very bad feeling.


    They were on an official mission, directly from the village chief, surely such a thing as a hunting license was not needed. It was not needed back in Wanderberg! If it was so imperative, surely Foxy, Shinead, or someone else would have mentioned the need for one! Right? Right? Right?


    Of course, a hunting license was needed for forest activities in the Elven Domains. It was such basic knowledge, that not even Foxy, who was "employed" by Prof to tell him common knowledge, thought that Prof would walk around the Domain without a license.


    Shinead assumed, Prof had gotten one in the last month, so haven¡¯t asked about it, and Mini¡­ didn¡¯t care and also assumed, Prof had one. As it transpired, everyone had a license. But Prof did not have one. As with every civilized place, the Elves had rules and laws against doing something without licenses ¨C and how many rules and laws they had!


    And fines! And costs, taxes, and an unending number of things he had to pay.


    Since he hunted without a license, he lost all his loot and payment for the job, while still paying taxes for them, he had to retroactively pay a contribution for being in the Domain without a license, pay a fine for hunting without a license, pay for issuing a license, pay for administration and pay for¡­ he didn''t understand the last few items.


    After paying through his nose, he lost almost 50 silver or about a third of his share from the bandit raid. He started to feel fed up with the Domain. He was warned about Elves having an inclination for kicking teeth, but this was way worse.


    This was about money! He was cheated again.


    ¡°Damn. I think I was cheated again. Girls, are there any more rules I have to know not to be cheated again?"


    ¡°It was your own fault hunting without a license¡± Shinead informed him.


    ¡°At least partly. You were cheated, however. Still, he could have implemented some other taxes and fines, so be grateful." Foxy added "As for other things¡­ There are a few. But, as a foreigner and a Human, you will be cheated, taxed, fined, and fleeced either way. Only the amount would be different."


    ¡°You Elves don¡¯t like outsiders, don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°No, not particularly. The basic sentiment is that you Humans came, took a large part of our country, so it¡¯s only fair if we kick out your teeth and let you pay for the damage on our boots.¡± Shinead explained. ¡°A few thousand years is a couple of generations for us, so the memory is still alive.¡±


    ¡°Long living race, eh? All right, Foxy, hit me what I need to minimize the robbing."


    ¡°Let''s see¡­ You need a passport, traveling permit, camping permit, permit to practice magic, permit to practice chi, permit to practice species-specific magical traits, license to bear arms, license to use arms, animal driving license, cart driving license, animal riding license, adventurer''s license, commercial license, permit to have pets, permit to own a dangerous pet ¨C those are important, since you have a Kobold now ¨C permit to perform crafts, and since you are underage according to Elven Law, a permit from your legal guardian to drink alcohol, have sex and running around on your own."


    ¡°WHAT?!?! Are you serious?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Those are the more important ones I can think of right now. A good enough prince or steward could probably come up with others too.¡±


    ¡°Why do I need a magic license?!? I don¡¯t even know anything about magic! Or the species-specific stuff¡±


    ¡°That is not the point.¡± Shinead shook her head ¡°It is not about the question of being able to cast spells, it¡¯s about having the license to be allowed to. If you can not prove, you are allowed to cast magic, you can and will be fined.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I remembered another one! You will need a permit for owning and using magical items too!" Mini added her two leaves to the discussion. Prof was almost crying. He was so happy to get rid of the over-regulated, over-administered Earthen standards, and here he was back again.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°See it this way: at least your Clan Head, that Shinead, can issue a lot of those permits and licenses, you only need to register them at the prince''s office. That would be much cheaper." Foxy reassured him.


    ¡°Can I be his legal guardian?" Mini asked, "I will give him permission to drink as much as he likes, and have sex with me!"


    ¡°Wait, wait, wait! If you are my legal guardian, I could not have sex with you¡­ On second thought, please be my legal guardian.¡±


    ¡°Actually, according to Elven Law, you can have sex with your legal guardian, as long as both of you are above the age to have a Character Parchment. And not directly blood-related." Foxy clarified.


    They returned to the guest house and Shinead started to fill out forms for the different permits and licenses she was able to provide. Meanwhile, Prof drank himself silly ¨C all those losses he suffered made him depressed.


    At least the two kinds of quality booze they got from the bywaymen were really good stuff, a sommelier from Earth would have spewed about rich texture and flowery smell and nutty aftertaste and such, but he was more interested in the alcohol content. The others joined him for a glass but left him to wallow in misery.


    The next day he returned to the chief''s office with the completed documentation, paid for the administration, paid for the next pile of documents to be prepared, paid for them to be issued, and paid for them to be administered. He paid for something else but he wasn''t really sure what that was, and further around fifty silvers were gone. If this continued, he would have left with less money than he arrived with ¨C but this wasn''t Las Vegas or a famous tourist trap but just a small trading town on the borderland. If he got fleeced this much in an unimportant place, what should he expect from the larger towns and cities?


    He hoped the track for the Clan''s attacker would lead them somewhere else.


    It was somehow expected, that mysteriously the "owner" of every last animal they captured turned up, and they were left without one. At least they received a token "finder''s fee". With the captured animals out of the picture, Prof needed to spend money on beasts of burden too ¨C fortunately, a few new animals wound up at the horse seller almost immediately after Prof''s prizes were gone.


    Strangely in the same numbers, composition, and looks. No one would accuse the Elves to buy animals for a token finder''s fee and sell it immediately for a huge profit. Mostly because some teeth-kicking would be involved as a reply to the accusation. The party inspected the animals for sale.


    ¡°I¡¯m quite sure, thirty silvers are a bit too much for these half-dead horses.¡± Prof surmised


    ¡°Actually, you got the exchange rate wrong. It¡¯s a bit less than forty silvers.¡± Foxy corrected him ¡°Not counting the registration fee and taxes.¡± she added a few seconds later in a whisper.


    ¡°The donkeys for fifteen aren¡¯t much better. But we need some beasts of burden to move all that stuff we kept after the raid. Ehmmm¡­ Esteemed trader of used equines, would you part your ass for twenty silvers?¡±


    Before his teeth were kicked for the butchered grammar, Foxy intervened and corrected him.


    ¡°He means, would you part <u>with</u> your <u>donkeys</u> for twenty Bears?¡±


    After a bit of fierce haggling, Prof was the new proud owner of two slightly used donkeys for the price of twenty-five silvers, taxes and fees not included. And without saddles, reins, and other extras. That cost another ten silver in total. And looked exactly like those they liberated from the bandits.


    Shinead''s inquiry provided some clues too. Although no one heard of a Grey Elf named Guillermo previously, the band of Humans marching through the Domain was quite obvious. As far as it could be determined, it was an amalgam of companies and bands from the Bergian lands, Forestdeep, and even the Empire and other lands.


    A few smaller bands split from the main column, but those were quickly dealt with by local troops, but the main column (still a hundred strong) had valid traveling papers and left the Domain sometime earlier in the direction of the Valley of Torment after re-provisioning in the Greens'' area. At this point, a Grey Elf, named Guillermo led the company, and at least a few other Greys were with him.


    ¡°Another expedition to the Valley?" Foxy was surprised "They tend to have huge losses. At least those that haven''t disappeared without a trace."


    ¡°But how does the attack on the Clan tie into an expedition into the Valley? It looks like a huge risk to raid a Red Clan on one side of the Domain and then travel to the other side for an expedition.¡±


    ¡°I would say, it was either revenge, a training exercise, or a private venture of one of the leaders. A raid for money is also possible. Possibly a bit from everything, getting money, weed out the undesirables, and exact revenge."


    ¡°We talked about the Valley a few times before, but why would someone send an expedition there?¡± Prof asked. The answer didn¡¯t surprise him, however, it was the exact reason, Earth-Humans sent expeditions everywhere.


    ¡°Some were sent to discover a new trading route, but most were searching for treasure, I think." of course, it was Foxy, who answered "Remember, the Valley was previously settled, and when the cataclysm happened, most couldn''t leave. There were cities there, armies, and high-level people with powerful equipment. And probably all is still there."


    ¡°So, you could become rich.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but mostly just dead.¡±

 Chapter 8: Lukewarm Pursuit, Part 3

    With more than a month''s head start, it was almost impossible for them to catch up to the mercenaries, especially with their lacking means of road mobility.


    If they left basically everything back, Shinead, Foxy, and Prof could have moved fast, but Mini and Sharpclaw were much slower, and leaving everything back would mean more frequent stops for provisioning. That also meant more expenses, at a time when Prof was almost broke again. Without carts their donkeys and themselves had only a limited cargo capacity, so they were forced to be selective with what they brought with them.


    First to be discarded were the tents ¨C it was summer, the weather was nice and they occupied too much space. Next went most of the other camping gear, they only kept a cauldron, a few eating utensils, and a short spade. Mini was able to store her part of the loot in one of her saddle bags and could even accommodate some of the luxury booze. The rest of the capacity was taken up by the essentials: food, booze, water, potions, and medicine.


    Even packing everyone to capacity, they had to leave a lot of food and booze behind. In place of selling them, Prof gave them to the Clan for the remaining member''s catering. All four survivors were left behind, Shinead gave them orders to stay in Willowflower for the time being, train, and be useful to the local authorities.


    The day after buying the donkeys, they finished packing and left the town early in the morning. The road was still just a better cart trail, but the quality got still somewhat better. It was obvious, that West of Willowflower the traffic was larger than East of the town, every other hour they met another traveler.


    With a south-westerly heading, they were traveling in the direction of the mountains Prof noticed on his first days on Arkadia ¨C the low-lying hills gradually gave way to larger hills and hills people in Central Europe tended to call mountains, and finally to something people from countries that had real mountains may have considered small mountains.


    The forest didn''t change that much. A lot of trees with shrubs and bushes mixed in, here and there a glade or field, and every couple of kilometers a farm or lone house could be seen a bit away from the road. About fifteen kilometers from Willowflower there was a prepared camping ground ¨C that is a field with fireplaces, and a shack that functioned as the toilet.


    There was a well too, and a pile of firewood. According to Foxy, there was such a camping ground every fifteen kilometers or so on every road, mostly overseen by a family of hunters. Using the grounds was free, but it was expected to replenish the used-up firewood, leave the place clean, and if the hunters were present, give them some gifts ¨C money, food, clothes, booze, or services.


    On the other hand, the hunters had absolute jurisdiction in their territory, post bounties, check papers, or issue fines. That Prof found out on his own: every last piece of his papers was checked, and he was issued a fine for not keeping his dangerous pet on a leash. Strangely Mini did not get fined, because Binky obviously didn''t count as a pet but as a mount, and technically he was leashed.


    Prof debated the idea to put a leash on Sharpclaw but decided against it. Not because of personal freedom rights and such, but because he already lead the donkeys on a leash, and couldn''t be bothered with another leash.


    He was stuck with the donkeys because they were afraid of Foxy and Mini''s mount, and Shinead excused herself by stating, they were his donkeys, he should take care of them on his own, and a Clan Leader should not be burdened by leading pack animals around. That was a slight problem, Prof''s [Animal Husbandry] was 30% - so he only knew food (probably plant matter) went into the front part. He suspected, donkeys needed grooming and water and maybe they got sick, but nothing more.


    He hoped, they will find a stable on their way and could pay someone to perform maintenance on them. On that note, Prof needed money. Again. However, they were moving slower than Shinead wanted them to already, another distraction and diversion for hunting and gathering (not that Prof was overly proficient in Skills connected to gathering valuable plants) was not possible. Foxy even warned him, that he did not have a license for gathering large amounts of plants, to begin with, his camping permit was only good for gathering for immediate personal use. Even then, he could have earned himself a fine, if he gathered valuable stuff.


    That left only one possibility: hoping for the renowned Random Encounter. Surely, there was a huge chance in a deep forest for some animals or monsters attacking a peaceful caravan of heavily armed people! Or even better, bandits! Bandits have valuables lying around without the need of harvesting a carcass. There may be even a bounty on their heads or a reward! His last random encounter was with the Dire Bear more than a month ago, it was time for another one!


    For some strange reason, no bandits attacked and no monster showed itself till they arrived at the third camping ground in the evening. They had pushed hard and managed to walk forty-five kilometers ¨C they could have pushed further, but the next camp was another fifteen kilometers away.


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    At night, the anticipated Random Encounter still didn''t deign to show itself. Prof was frustrated ¨C how can it be, that no one attacked him in a medieval country? On Earth, he could have gone to certain parts of certain cities and would have been attacked and robbed with almost certainty, and the news was always full of some people being robbed at a highway rest stop, but nooooo, Arkadia was so much safer!


    Maybe if they stowed their weapons and flaunted jewelry?


    The next day they entered the mountain chain and Prof''s hope flared even more. What better place to spring an ambush than in a narrow pass or a cramped valley? Around noon, he realized, even the last of the civilizational lacquer from Earth has worn off, he was back to the old school humanity: fight for your food and kick that Cave Bear out of your new home cave.


    Or at least having not had much of a problem killing off critters for benefits. He vowed to hang on to at least some of the rules he grew up with, descending into full-on murder-hobo territory would just open a huge can of worms. If he started on that road, there was no coming back.


    Shortly after noon, they passed a hilltop earth-and-logs fort and the accompanying small village, where Shinead managed to get further details about the band of Humans they were after. Prof also managed to get an overview of the local security situation: the road was mostly secure, no dangerous animals and monsters were spotted near it for at least a year and banditry was light.


    He was pointed at a few trees with mutilated corpses (probably Human) on display. Those were the last bandits for a dozen of kilometers around the fort. So no need to kill off Humans but also no chance to earn money.


    He accepted a small task to bring a backpack full of stuff to the next town, another day of travel away for some pocket change, but that was all he could do as work. If this kept up, he would be forced to part with the jewelry he kept as the last investment ¨C and resupplying before the Valley of Torment would be expensive.


    The party arrived at the mentioned town before noon the next day. The architecture was the same as Willowflower, colorful houses built out of logs, the only difference was a glittering cluster of small doll houses. As he looked at them, the colors slightly changed depending on the angle and illumination.


    ¡°Those are the homes of Glitter Elves," Foxy informed him.


    ¡°Pixies?¡±


    ¡°Yes, but don''t call them that to their faces. They don''t like that name. Best keep away from them, they look playful, but are sneaky, and vicious and have no regard for other species'' personal space. And put your valuables safely away. Mini, you know them, and would be safe regardless."


    ¡°Why would she be safe?¡± Prof was confused


    ¡°They are afraid of any kind of undead. They won¡¯t come near Mini.¡±


    As soon as they finished their discussion, the menace he was warned about arrived in the form of two twenty centimetre high flying female miniature Elves. Prof expected Pixies to have see-through butterfly wings but was disappointed that they had bird wings ¨C may be that of a Kingfisher or Finch. Some small, colorful flying thing like an ostrich or a dolphin. His [Zoology] was still low.


    Prof already knew, Elves had a really liberal view of clothes and the need to cover themselves with textiles, but was still surprised that the two Pixies were completely naked. The view was disturbing, to say the least.


    ¡°Yo, monkey! Watcha looking at?¡± The pink-haired Pixie greeted him. The accent she spoke was markedly different from the Red dialect he was taught, but he still could understand it.


    ¡°Good Day to you too, honored Glitter Elves.¡± he didn''t forget to be polite. He had Gentleman, and with that, it was even more important and easier to get strangers on his side. He added the polite how-do-you-do question for the Elves "Are the ancestors happy today?¡±


    ¡°Ha! The monkey speaks the tongue!¡± The neon-green-haired Pixie exclaimed


    ¡°Wait! It is speaking in Red! And is traveling with a curious company! Look! A Red, a part-Wolf Brown! Gross! A Lizard and a walking dead!¡±


    ¡°Quick! Let us find the Bolyvezet?!¡±


    Without saying anything further, they sped back to the cluster of glittering houses.


    ¡°What was that about?¡± Prof turned to Foxy ¡°Who are they going to find? I didn¡¯t understand that word.¡±


    ¡°Bolyvezet? is the leader of the cluster, something like a lesser noble with the Humans, but you know how the Elven political structure works. He could be of lesser, equal, or higher standing than the prince of the town. As for what this was about. Probably trouble."


    ¡°Why would it be trouble, we are just normal¡­ OK, not really remarkable¡­ OK, a curious party of adventurers¡­ Clan people!"


    ¡°Because we are curious. Glitters are drawn to curious.¡±


    ¡°But what could those midgets do?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t ask and hope you won¡¯t find out.¡±

 Not-a-Chapter: Character Parchments and System-y stuff

    First of, our Main Character:


    <table border="1">


    <tbody>


    <tr></tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Name: Ferenc "Prof" Hegyesi</td>


    <td>Age: 22 (on Arkadia)</td>


    <td>Level: 3</td>


    <td>Species: Human (pure strain)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Strenght: 14?</td>


    <td>HP/Level: 14</td>


    <td>Positive Perks</td>


    <td>Negative Perks</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Agility: 18</td>


    <td>HP: 95</td>


    <td>Bloodbath (+10 damage in HtH and Melee)</td>


    <td>Bad Skill (x5) (-25% for a Skill)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Dexterity: 18</td>


    <td>Critical Chance: 13%</td>


    <td>Bonus Melee Attack (faster HtH and Melee attacks)</td>


    <td>Anti-Talent (x3) (-30% to a Skill, twice as hard to rise)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Endurance: 14</td>


    <td>Skill Points/Level: 110</td>


    <td>Better Criticals (+50% damage to Critical Hits, 25% to maim)</td>


    <td>Parvenu (higher classes look down on you)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Vitality: 14</td>


    <td> </td>


    <td>More Criticals (+5% Critical Chance)</td>


    <td>Slight Alcoholism (needs to drink a slight amount each week)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Charisma: 11</td>


    <td> </td>


    <td>Ambidexterous (no deduction for using the off-hand)</td>


    <td> </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Perception: 11</td>


    <td> </td>


    <td>Educated (+25 Skill Points/Level)</td>


    <td> </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Intelligence: 18</td>


    <td> </td>


    <td>Munchkin (+1 Level)</td>


    <td> </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Willpower: 12</td>


    <td> </td>


    <td>Cartographer (can read and draw maps)</td>


    <td> </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Stability: 12</td>


    <td> </td>


    <td>Point Harvester (+10% for every point gained)</td>


    <td> </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Luck: 16</td>


    <td> </td>


    <td>Gentleman (better reactions from others)</td>


    <td> </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td> </td>


    <td> </td>


    <td>Scavenger (finds loot more easily)</td>


    <td> </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td> </td>


    <td> </td>


    <td>Mental Map</td>


    <td> </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Skills (only those above 100% shown)</td>


    <td>Evasion (tagged): 175%</td>


    <td>Axes (tagged): 175%</td>


    <td>Looting (tagged): 150%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td> </td>


    <td>Valuation (tagged): 150%</td>


    <td>Hand-to-Hand Combat: 101%</td>


    <td>Knives: 101%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td> </td>


    <td>Navigation: 101%</td>


    <td>Commerce: 103%</td>


    <td>Speech (Bergian): 125%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td> </td>


    <td>Geography (Fenria): 103%</td>


    <td> </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Not much to explain, I put the brief destription into the table.


    Next is Foxy Delaheye (she Leveled Up after the bywaymen-incident):


    <table border="1">


    <tbody>


    <tr></tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Name: Foxy Delaheye</td>


    <td>Age: 35</td>


    <td>Level: 6</td>


    <td>Species: Elf (Yellow-Wolfbrown mix)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Strength: 12</td>


    <td>HP/Level: 12</td>


    <td>Positive Perks</td>


    <td>Negative Perks</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Agility: 18</td>


    <td>HP: 120</td>


    <td>Good Nose (species)</td>


    <td>Predator (species)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Dexterity: 15</td>


    <td>Critical Chance: 6%</td>


    <td>Bonus MP (species)</td>


    <td>Shunned (2) (race)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Endurance: 14</td>


    <td>Skill Points/Level: 66</td>


    <td>Long Runner (species)</td>


    <td>Shunned (2) (sexuality)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Vitality: 19</td>


    <td>MP/Level: 8</td>


    <td>Flexible Sleeper (species)</td>


    <td>Impatient</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Charisma: 9</td>


    <td>MP: 56</td>


    <td>Mana Affinity??</td>


    <td>Anti-Alcoholic (2x)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Perception: 19</td>


    <td>Chi/Level: 8</td>


    <td>Chi Affinity</td>


    <td>Short Lifespan</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Intelligence: 16</td>


    <td>Chi: 83</td>


    <td>More MP</td>


    <td>Paranoia (2)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Willpower: 15</td>


    <td> </td>


    <td>More Chi</td>


    <td> </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Stablity: 12</td>


    <td> </td>


    <td> </td>


    <td> </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Luck: 13</td>


    <td> </td>


    <td> </td>


    <td> </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Skills (only those above 100% noticed)</td>


    <td>Herbology (tag): 160%</td>


    <td>Observe (tag): 170%)</td>


    <td>Chi (battle) (tag: 160%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td> </td>


    <td>Magic (Dream) (tag): 200%</td>


    <td>Acrobatics: 130%</td>


    <td>Investigation: 150%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td> </td>


    <td>Hand-to-Hand combat: 125%??</td>


    <td>Evasion: 125%</td>


    <td>Mathematics: 120%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td> </td>


    <td>Climbing: 100%</td>


    <td>First Aid: 100%</td>


    <td>Stealth: 100%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td> </td>


    <td>Etiquette (Elven): 100%</td>


    <td>Speech (Elven): 100%??</td>


    <td>Speech (Forestean): 100%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td> </td>


    <td>Geography (Fenria): 100%</td>


    <td>Dead Language (ancient Elven): 100%</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Good Nose: her sense of smell is better than the raw Stat Perception would imply, that Stat is considered two points higher when smell is concerned, for an effective Perception of 21


    Long Runner: when it comes to running, her Stat Endurance is higher than the raw Stat would imply. The Stat is considered two points higher for the purpose, how long she can run, for an effective Stat of 16. That means, she can do an all-out sprint for around 16 minutes, run for 80 minutes, or jog for 360 minutes without pause.


    Flexible Sleeper: she can fall asleep whenever and wherever she wants, even for a few minutes. Normally, you would need 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep to feel refreshed, but she can partition up the time as she likes and would be still refreshed, if she slept a total of 8 hours a day.


    Mana Affinity: simply, she has access to Mana and can cast mana spells


    Chi Affinity: simply, she has access to Chi and can cast chi-"spells"


    Bonus MP and More MP: with the former, her base MP is higher, with the latter, she gets more MP per Level


    More Chi: she gets more Chi Points per Level


    Predator: animals are weary of her, prey animals are even afraid of her, and if the level difference is high enough, will try to flee.


    Shunned: The Elves are high on purity of blood and being straight, so her being mixed race and liking girls means that other (pure-blood, hetero) Elves look down on her. Charisma is considered lower.


    Impatient: as the name says, she can''t tolerate wasting time. In game terms, she would need to roll a Stability-check if someone is dallying, and if she fails, she would get irritated more and more.


    Anti-Alcoholic: she can''t hold her booze. With her Endurance, she would be able to drink normally around seven (European, 4,5%) beers without getting tippsy, but with the Perk, her limit would be three. To drink herself into a coma, she would need 12 beers, instead of... 28 or so.


    Short Lifespan: simply put, she won''t live as long as others from her species. Since Elves can live for around two thousand years, her lifespan is only... two hundred years.


    Paranoia: it isn''t paranoia, if you know, they are out there to get you! More on mental health issues later!


    Next is Minerva Pannonii:


    <table border="1">


    <tbody>


    <tr></tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Name: Minerva "Mini" Pannonii?</td>


    <td>Age: 35??</td>


    <td>Level: 6</td>


    <td>Species: Vampire (Human strain)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Strenght: 12</td>


    <td>HP/Level: 18</td>


    <td>Positive Perks??</td>


    <td>Negative Perks</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Agility: 15</td>


    <td>HP: 174</td>


    <td>Die Hard (species)</td>


    <td>Shunned (3) (species)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Dexterity: 15</td>


    <td>Critical Chance: 8%</td>


    <td>Adrenaline Rush (species)</td>


    <td>Bloodthirsty (species)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Endurance: 18</td>


    <td>Skill Point/Level: 66</td>


    <td>Tireless (species)</td>


    <td>Special Dietary Needs (species)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Vitality: 20</td>


    <td> </td>


    <td>Poison Resistance (species)</td>


    <td>Sociopath (4) (species)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Charisma: 11</td>


    <td> </td>


    <td>Slow Metabolism (species)</td>


    <td>Nymphomanic (2)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Perception: 15</td>


    <td> </td>


    <td>Hard Bones (species)</td>


    <td>Narcistic (2)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Intelligence: 16</td>


    <td> </td>


    <td>Blood Magic (species)</td>


    <td>Irresponsible</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Willpower: 16</td>


    <td> </td>


    <td>Bonus Ranged Damage (2x)</td>


    <td>Cruel</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Stability: 12</td>


    <td> </td>


    <td>Stern Look</td>


    <td>Unscrupulous</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Luck: 16</td>


    <td> </td>


    <td>Happy Person</td>


    <td> </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td> </td>


    <td> </td>


    <td>Queen of the Night</td>


    <td> </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td> </td>


    <td> </td>


    <td>Cheeky</td>


    <td> </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td> </td>


    <td> </td>


    <td>Flexible Sleeper</td>


    <td> </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td> </td>


    <td> </td>


    <td>Bloodbath</td>


    <td> </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Skills (only those above 100% noticed)</td>


    <td>Sex (tag): 190%</td>


    <td>Crossbow (tag): 180%</td>


    <td>Etiquette (Forestean) (tag): 150%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td> </td>


    <td>Intimidation (tag): 150%</td>


    <td>Hand-to-Hand Combat: 125%</td>


    <td>Evade: 125%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td> </td>


    <td>Riding: 125%</td>


    <td>Speech (Forestean): 120%</td>


    <td>Speech (Bergian): 100%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td> </td>


    <td>Sword: 110%</td>


    <td>Climbing: 100%</td>


    <td>Stealth: 101%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td> </td>


    <td>Commerce: 100%</td>


    <td> </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    Die Hard: she gets 5 Armour Rating, if her Health Point drop below 20%. (she is an undead, so only Critical Hits damage her to begin with)


    Adrenaline Rush: Her Stat Strenght rises by one point, if her Health Points drop below 50%


    Tireless: her Stat Endurance is considered two points higher when it comes to tiring activities, for an effective Stat of 20. Including but not limited to fighting, running, swimming, riding, shopping, having sex.


    Poison Resistance: she is more resistant to poison and venom. Coupled with her being undead this translates to near immunity.


    Slow Metabolism: she needs half as much food to stay alive and healthy than normally. Again, she is undead, so eating and drinking is done for fun, but this Perk also influences how much blood she needs.


    Blood Magic: she has access to an innate, species-specific version of [Magic: Blood]. In contrast to Skills, it doesn''t work on Skill Points, but rather Level. On the other hand, she can influence only her Skills and Stats, and can not influence others directly.


    Hard Bones: she has a 50% chance to avoid breaking her bones when otherwise a Critical Hit or falling would imply such.


    Bonus Ranged Damage: for each rank, she gets two extra points of damage dealt with ranged weapons.


    Stern Look: she can intimidate just by looking into other people''s eyes. Imagine this like a teacher, everyone was afraid of in school or Dwayne Johnson in a random movie


    Happy Person: she simply can not be dragged down by unfortunate circumstances, and can make everyone happy. Good humor, a sunshine on rainy days.


    Queen of the Night: when partying, she will be the center of the crowd, plus, alcohol and drugs influence her far less (the latter is quite redundant, see Poison Resistance)


    Cheeky: she is brazen, impudent, shameless and can get away with it. She can overwhelm others with such conduct, and can make them do what she wants. For a single action.


    Shunned: she''s a vampire. Folks don''t like vampires.


    Bloodthirsty: she tries to solve problems in a bloody and final way.


    Special Dietary Needs: she''s a vampire. Vampires need blood to survive


    Irresponsible: as the name says, she doesn''t hang herself up on consequences


    Cruel: she makes others suffer for mistakes. Or for fun.


    Unscurpulous: simply, she doesn''t have a conscience or regrets.


    And the last entry, Sharpclaw:


    <table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 100%" border="1">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Name: Sharpclaw Shackleton?</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Age: 12</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Level: 2 (Trapsniff)</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Species: Kobold</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Strenght: 9</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">HP/Level: 10</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Positive Perks</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Negative Perks</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Agility: 11</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">HP: 57</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Tunnel Rat (species)</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Shunned (4) (species)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Dexterity: 14</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Critical Chance: 7%</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Quiet Death (species)</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Cold Blood (species)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Endurance: 9</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Skill Points/Level: 38</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Dodger (species)</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Slow Runner (species)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Vitality: 12</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Better Initiative (species)</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Uneducated</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Charisma: 6</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Light Sleeper (species)</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Big Talker</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Perception: 14</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Light Steps (species)</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%"> </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Intelligence: 9</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Flexible (species)</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%"> </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Willpower: 8</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Ghost (species)</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%"> </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Stability: 8</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Bonus Melee Attack (2x)</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%"> </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Luck: 14</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Bonus Melee Damage (2x)</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%"> </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Dodger (2x)</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%"> </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Explorer</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%"> </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Treasure Hunter</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%"> </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Assassin</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%"> </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Fast Learner</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%"> </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Quite Running</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%"> </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Blessed Life</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%"> </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Headhunter</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%"> </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Skills (only those above 100% noticed)</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Swimming (species tag): 200%</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Traps (tagged): 115%</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Stealth (tagged): 101%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Lockpick (tagged): 101%</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Looting (tagged): 101%</td>


    <td style="width: 22.6366%">Knives: 100%</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Tunnel Rat: she can crawl faster than her Agility would imply


    Quiet Death: if the first attack was from behind while in stealth, damage dealt is twice as high


    Dodger: she''s just harder to hit, can dodge attacks better. In game terms, the attacker has a deduction of 5% (static) for every "Skill Check" for attacks. (it is not a mistake, she has it at Rank 3)


    Better Initiative: she just attacks a little bit earlier than Agility and Dexterity would imply.


    Light Sleeper: she notices noises even while sleeping, can not be surprise-attacked while asleep


    Light Steps: her chance to activate traps is significantly lower


    Flexible: it takes her less time and energy to change stances and she is better able to wiggle herself through tight places.


    Ghost: if it is dark, she gets +20% to [Stealth]


    Explorer: she is able to find interesting places easier


    Treasure Hunter: she is able to find a little bit more money and valuables.


    Assassin: if her first attack was a surprise, the damage dealt is three times as high


    Quiet Running: she can run while in Stealth


    Blessed Life: she has a 50% chance to survive any one damage or attack


    Headhunter: the higher her Level, the earlier can she attack (see Better Initiative above)


    Shunned: she''s a lizard/reptile, folks don''t like them


    Cold Blood: she''s a lizard/reptile, cold affects her more


    Slow Runner: she can''t run as fast as her Agility would imply, her Agility is considered two points lower for determining movement speed


    Uneducated: every last one of her "scientific" Skills is 10% lower


    Big Talker: she colours her every story into unbelivable territory


    There is NO mistake made, I did not forget Shinead. Simply put, Prof never took a look at her Character Parchment!


    ****


    As for Mental Health Issues.


    The higher the Rank, the more impact the Perk will have on the person (surprise!). But what does the ranking mean?


    Rank 1: on Earth we collect Mental Health Issues like it''s free. You probably have some, I probably have some. As long it''s Rank 1, it''s not more than a quirk or life experiance.


    Rank 2: On Earth, one would probably visit a shrink every other week, but one can function without much of a problem. If the issue is tied into your job, it is maybe even beneficial. For example Paranoia 2 is very good for a cop or secret agent.


    Rank 3: On Earth, this would be the point, where a shrink would have to be contacted, and light medication would be recommended. Or you go into politics, corporate or crime. You would make a name for yourself


    Rank 4: if you are a normal citizen, you would be most likely put into a padded room, and/or heavily medicated. Otherwise, you are a president, CEO or famous serial killer


    Rank 5: No matter what, you are living in a padded room, get medicated heavily and are under constant surveilance


    Rank 6: all the above, but there is talk about euthanasia


    Rank 7: a true raving madman. If outside of the padded room, the police will put you down.


    So, in case of Mini, she is clinically insane. One issue at 4 and two others at 2, she would be put into a closed institution in fast order. But since she is nobility in a (fantasy) medieval world...

 Chapter 8: Lukewarm Pursuit, Part 4

    Dear Readers on EastTale and any other site that is NOT Royal Road, please be aware, you are reading an unlicensed pirate copy of the original on Royal Road. While I don''t make money out of this story, there are other folks who do (it still don''t cost you anything). If you like my story, please come over here to Royal Road! It has better formating, and the other sites doesn''t copy edits, if nothing else :)


    Not waiting for trouble to arrive, Prof delivered the package, received the pocket change, and they were away within a quarter of an hour. That was about a quarter of an hour longer than they should have wasted in town ¨C the flight of naked mini-Elves descended on them before they managed to slink out of town. Gender spread was as usual: about fifty-fifty males and females.


    Yes, that meant, about half of the hundred Glitters were male. Small, flying, and naked males. That view was really disturbing.


    ¡°Yo, monkey! Wanna play?¡±


    ¡°Yo, monkey! No throwing shit around!¡±


    ¡°Yo, monkey! Watcha doing?¡±


    ¡°Yo, monkey! Where ya going?¡±


    ¡°Yo, monkey! Those ya girls?¡±


    ¡°Yo, monkey! Ya do Lizards?!?¡±


    And so forth. Every last one of the hundred-strong flock started to pester Prof but kept their space to Mini and Sharpclaw. So much about being a Gentleman.


    ¡°Prof, under no circumstances can you attack or injure them!¡± Foxy warned ¡°Sharpclaw, that is true for you too! Absolutely no attacking or injuring!¡±


    Prof tried to ignore the flying nakedness, and he was barely able to ignore two males who decided his head was a perfect place for sitting and pestering. At least he had his hat on, two naked males sitting on his head would have been just¡­ sooo¡­ disturbing. What he was not able to ignore was when one of them clambered down to hang on the rim directly in front of his face.


    ¡°WAAAAH!!! I¡¯M BLIND!!!! Go away! No one told you that waving your dick in the face of someone was sexual harassment? I¡¯m sexually harassed by Pixies! HELP!!!¡±


    Probably neither of the flight spoke any Bergian, or they just found Prof hilarious, because they started to laugh uncontrollably and flitted around even more. Prof had enough. He slid over to Mini, took her arm, and started to walk out of the town.


    ¡°Oh, now you want me. You are such a bad boy!" Mini grinned and wiggled until Prof''s hand rested on her behind, and hers on his waist.


    She probably wanted to grab his ass too, but the backpack and an assortment of weapons were in the way. Prof''s idea for escaping the flying skin show worked. Kind of. They kept a few meters distance, but the verbal assault continued and they even started to pelt him with pebbles, acorns, and berries.


    ¡°Yo, monkey! You are no fun!¡±


    ¡°Yo, folks! Monkey have donkeys!¡±


    Half of the flock... murder... unkindness (what is a multitude of naked, xenophobic Pixies called?) descended on the poor donkeys. They pulled their ears and tails, poked them, and started to rummage through the baggage. When one of them found the Glitter Brandy, all hell broke loose ¨C drinking the expensive booze made the Pixies literary vibrate, glow, and even more active.


    ¡°You little shits! That¡¯s robbery! Piss off!¡± Prof could not do anything but curse, even bitchslapping the little buggers would probably kill or seriously injure them, what he was warned about.


    ¡°Actually, that is a good idea!¡± Foxy told him ¡°Leave a few bottles of that here, if they drink it, they will fall asleep soon, and we can escape.¡±


    Grimly Prof retrieved two other bottles from Mini''s mount, put them on the ground, and shouted.


    ¡°Yo, Glitters! Free booze!¡±


    With the Pixies now engaged in heavy drinking, they could leave the town without further problems.


    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°That was robbery! Extortion! Sexual harassment!" Prof puffed as they continued their journey.


    ¡°No, that''s called Cultural Differences. One of the most revered ancestors of the Glitters invented that and argued that no one should or could be punished because he is living according to their cultural values. The Glitters adapted this philosophy really fast and living according to it ever since. It''s the Elven way not to tell other Elves what they should do." Foxy said


    ¡°So robbing, extorting, and harassing folks is OK?"


    ¡°Of course not. Doing that to other Elves is one of the greatest taboos in Elven society, and will earn you banishment from the Domain.¡± Shinead clarified


    ¡°But they did it to me!¡±


    ¡°Are you an Elf?¡±


    ¡°No, but¡­¡±


    ¡°See, you answered it yourself.¡±


    ¡°But, but, but, that is speciesism!¡±


    ¡°Yes, and? If you don¡¯t like our laws, you can leave the Domain.¡±


    ¡°Actually, that was what we were going to do. Go deeper into the Domain to leave on the other side. Oh, and since you owe me a blood debt, you will have to follow me, whenever I leave. What will you do, when you don¡¯t like the Human laws?¡±


    ¡°There are accidents waiting to happen.¡±


    The mood was shot dead and tossed into a ditch for the rest of the day.


    Prof realized that he didn''t like Elves. Not these violent, speciesist, xenophobic, arrogant Elves. Even Foxy, who could be described as a liberal because of her upbringing by someone from Forestdeep (as ironic that was, that someone from a might-makes-right country was regarded as a liberal in the Domain) had some deeply ingrained beliefs in Elven supremacy. Arkadia had a very strange take on the fantasy races: Dwarves had no beards, couldn''t drink alcohol, and weren''t the best smiths, and Elves didn''t live on trees and weren''t noble souls but speciesist assholes.


    Undead had flourishing estates in Forestdeep and could rule Humans without eating their brains or drinking them empty. What about the Greenskins? Orcs and Goblins, probably. Were they the cultured nobles with an even temper? He needed to ask Foxy about them, but first, he sulked a bit about the indignity of being a lesser species.


    The next day he finally approached Foxy for another lesson on Arkadian species.


    ¡°I don''t know that much about them, Greenskins were never my specialty. As far as I know, they are a collection of races. I heard some theories, according to some individuals can evolve from one into the other or that the differences are only age-related stages, so who knows? From smallest to largest, there are Gremlins, Goblins, Hobgoblins, Orcs, and Ogres. I''m not sure but think either the Gobs or the Hobs are the leaders, the Gremlins are fodder, and the other two are stupid brutes. There are some elites in every race, called Redcaps, they say, if you see a Redcap, kill it fast or run away faster."


    ¡°Do you remember the Battle of Stonebreak Gulch?¡± Mini asked, and when the other nodded, continued ¡°That was a battle when I was little, between an Elven-Forestean-Dwarven coalition and the Greenskins up in the North. A Redcap Ogre was spotted there, one of the only four known sightings. Well, he broke a Dwarven Surface Infantry Legion, scattered a Gnoll Cavalry Detachment ¨C that is the heaviest and best cavalry known on Arkadia, by the way ¨C flattened a Pale Company ¨C those are undead ¨C and was only forced to retreat when my Duke and Duchess entered the battle. That is how dangerous Redcaps are."


    ¡°Yeah, that was the most serious defeat in the last two hundred years.¡±


    ¡°Hehe, that Ogre had an accident afterward¡± Shinead informed them ¡°A lot of Reds died bringing that accident about. I met a squad leader a few years ago..¡±


    They continued to describe how Greenskins looked, and Prof was satisfied, that they looked like Earth-fantasy told it. The differences lay elsewhere.


    ¡°Obviously, I''m so smart, I know more about Greenskins than you all!" Mini interrupted proudly "You know, one of our neighboring Estates was run by Greenskins, I learned some things from them! You see, there is no hereditary nobility with them, the smartest and best one is leading each community and trade. Mostly a Redcap, but not always."


    ¡°Being a Redcap shows up on your Character Parchment, to disguise yourself as a Redcap without being one, is the most serious crime with them. Every community has three leaders, the¡­ let''s call him the chief, who is delegated by the High Chief, but the local military leader, the general and the local civilian leader, the president are his advisors. At least two have to agree to make something happen."


    ¡°There are castes¡­ trades¡­ guilds¡­ sects¡­ I don''t know the exact word, something along those lines, with differing prestige and influence. I was told that Gobs tend to be the leader in the civilian fields, while Hobs lead the military. No wonder, those two are the smartest, the Gobs are always thinking, tinkering, planning, and scheming. Our neighbor''s town was clean and ordered, every building a small fort on its own. I don''t know if they do it that way in the West, but the architecture was definitely unique, so I think they brought it with them."


    ¡°Thank you, that was interesting.¡±


    Prof was cheated again on Arkadian species. From what he was told, he surmised that the Greenskins here were not the stupid and aggressive primitive savages, living in the dirt as Earth literature made them be, but some cultured race on the level of Humans. In all Earth fantasy, there were a few races Humans could look down on, but here?


    Humans were just one of many, without the possibility to be special ¨C and could look down on Dwarves only, and even that because of the height difference. But maybe the Lizards were beneath Humans? Or other species on the other continents? He didn''t know anything about those, just that Sfingia was to the South and Chimeria somewhere in the East. He needed to know more.


    And more money to live an easy life without working hard.

 Chapter 8: Lukewarm Pursuit, Part 5

    Their pursuit of the attackers of the Clan went on for another three weeks.


    After the first mountain chain they had to cross a few others, each one a bit higher and broader than the other. The final one before the border was more than one thousand meters in height but hadn''t shown up on Prof''s first map back on the hill overlooking Smallgrovewell. On Earth, this kind of mountain chain would have been large (or high) enough to warrant a mention, but on Arkadia, it was obviously just small fry.


    Mini wasn''t aware, of how high the chain further to the North was, but could only say, that it was larger.


    The forest they were traversing through ¨C and which covered most of the Domain ¨C changed slowly as they reached higher elevations after each mountain chain. The oaks near the Bergian border gradually gave way to beech, with conifers showing up on higher peaks. The mountain at the Western border was mostly covered by them ¨C not counting the peaks themselves, being barren and rocky.


    After the debacle with the Pixies, everyone agreed not to let Prof into another town, and even with villages, they were cautious. Mostly only Shinead went in, asking about the band of Humans they were after, sometimes buying supplies, but mostly they kept up the speed, walking from dawn till dusk.


    A few times they got lucky with random encounters and easy prey, so they could stretch their own supply and even earn some money, selling the fur, claws, teeth, bones, or organs. Their biggest windfall was a band of very stupid ¨C or very desperate ¨C highwaymen, earning them almost a gold each from the loot and the bounty. They could even replace the one donkey they lost in an accident with a mule.


    This time, they didn''t wait for them to be fleeced, but sold everything to a village at a huge discount ¨C they probably, even so, lost less than with the official appraisal and taxes.


    Traveling for three weeks without much fighting hadn''t helped with leveling up (Mini and Sharpclaw managed nonetheless), but Prof was able to practice some of his utility Skills, earning a few percentages here and there. His [Speech: Elven] reached 90%, [Wilderness Survival] 80%, [Observe] 50%, [Animal Husbandry] a whopping 40% as the ones being the most important.


    [Etiquette: Elven], [Culture: Elven], [Laws: Elven] reached a level, where he was barely able to function in Elven society, and he picked up a little bit of [Literature: Elven], [Legends: Elven], [History: Elven] and [Heraldry: Elven]. Finally, even a little bit of the Forestean version of those Skills stuck to him.


    He also learned, why a lot of Foxy''s magic spells fizzled, but not the chi ones, despite both being about the same level. First, a few of the chi spells fizzled too, but that was not as obvious as the magic spells. Secondly, casting magic was harder, since the caster had to influence outside energies while using chi used the caster''s own, inner energy.


    Or something like that, Foxy held a few hours long lecture, but Prof was not really interested in the deepest nuances of mana and chi, so listened only with half an ear.


    The border town they entered, was the largest Elven town he had seen up to that point. According to Foxy, the population was around five to six thousand, and that put it as a smaller city in the Domain, the three largest being Counciltree, the capital with fifty thousand inhabitants, Wave''s Peace the most important harbor with fifty-four thousand, and Washedbeach a fortress city in the extreme Southwest with twenty-five.


    The names sounded much better in Elvish, but these were the most accepted translations, so Prof decided to stick with them, not wanting to contemplate all the nuances in meaning the Elves loved to put into every word.


    The town they were about to enter, named Deadbranch (again, the accepted translation), was situated on a low plateau on the direct way to a pass over the mountain range. The other side of the mountains was already in the Valley of Torment proper. The city was enclosed by an earth-and-logs wall, with a wooden tower every hundred meters or so.


    ¡°Isn''t it dangerous to build walls out of wood?" Prof asked, "Wouldn''t it burn easily?"


    ¡°Not really.¡± Foxy answered ¡°Logs and other materials for the walls are heavily modified and enchanted. Stone would burn earlier than those logs.¡±


    Entering the city was a long process, the security check for Shinead and Foxy was fast ¨C the guard only took a cursory look at their papers ¨C but for Prof and Mini, it was grievous. Every last permit, license, and clearance was meticulously checked and double-checked, and after the guard was finished, they were directed to an officer, who interviewed them for another hour.


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    When the officer was satisfied, they had to pay an entry fee and were handed entry tickets that were valid for only three days. They were warned, if they left the city, the ticket would lose its validity and they would have to go through the whole process again.


    The city inside the walls was nothing like a cramped medieval town, it looked rather like Suburbia ¨C space between houses, a lot of trees and shrubs and flowers, and no undesirables (meaning in this case: non-Elves). The population density wasn''t high in the Domain, to begin with, with the settlement structure leaning heavily towards lone farms and small hamlets, and the city mirrored this habit of leaving space.


    Prof estimated that true medieval Humans would pack at least four times as many people into the space where only five to six thousand Elves lived. Most of the houses were painted green or brown, with only a few blue, red or yellow ones, and almost no white or grey. Translated into the racial distribution that meant that the overwhelming majority was composed of Green Elves and Beastkin.


    This was the first time Prof saw Cat and Fox Beastkin.


    Both were small, a bit less than one and a half meters in height, and had nothing to do with the cute fantasy in Earth culture ¨C they looked like large animals walking on hind legs with a few Human (or Elven) traits, and not Humans with a few (cute) animal features. The Cats were predominantly tabbies, with very few reds or blacks, the other common cat colors were completely absent.


    Also, Prof noticed the gender balance leaning to the female side ¨C it looked like there were twice as many females as males. Coloration and the gender imbalance may have local causes, and with only around a hundred Catkin present, he could not make an informed guess. The cats behaved as cats did everywhere: lounging on carpets, sleeping, or lazily observing the world.


    Prof wouldn¡¯t have been surprised if every last one of them had high levels in [Philosophy] ¨C doing nothing but observing the world tended to produce philosophers, after all. Living under a bridge and being perpetually drunk probably helped too¡­


    On the other hand, the Foxkin were full of energy ¨C scurrying around, always in a band of at least three and chittering in a heavy dialect, Prof almost couldn''t understand. They were particularly interested in Prof''s party. In a few minutes, there were about a dozen of them following them, mostly younger ones. All of the Foxkin sported a uniform reddish-brown fur, but what had Prof surprised was the different number of tails.


    Most had only one (including all of the kits), but there were kin with three, five, or seven tails, and Prof thought, he spotted one with even nine ¨C there were only odd numbers of tails for some reason. The more tails one had, the less in number such individuals were.


    ¡°More tails mean higher Levels." Foxy clued him in "Sionnach the Cunning, a mystical ancestor is said to have ninety-nine."


    Having so many tails was impractical, Prof thought.


    This was the first time Prof saw a female Beastkin of any race too. They were a bit shorter and much more slender than the males and had six (small) tits.


    After a brief orientation, Shinead dumped them in the city''s only guest house for non-Elves, told them to rest and meet up in the morning, and was gone the next minute. The guest house was located in the bad part of the city ¨C the bad part meaning in this case a very short alley with four houses in total, one of them being the guest house.


    One other was inhabited by a Grey Elf ¨C or cur, as Shinead called them ¨C another by a family of Foxkin, and the last a mix of barn, stables, and warehouse, with ¨C curiously ¨C an old Human as the caretaker.


    After settling in, Prof visited the Human next door, wanting to know how a Human ended up on the border of the Domain.


    ¡°Good Day, esteemed caretaker of warehouses!¡± He greeted in Elvish, not knowing where the other Human came from.


    A common tongue would have been nice to have, but not even Earth managed to implement one universally (with Chinese being nearest to a common tongue, if one went with "having the most speakers"), and Arkadia was way back in this terms. He found out, most people didn''t care to learn another language, even if, it was from one of the neighboring countries. Foxy and Mini were outliers, knowing six and five languages respectively, although Foxy''s Greenskinian, Dwarven, and Halitchian were very bad.


    ¡°Good Day to you, too, esteemed neighbor. How are the ancestors today?¡± The caretaker answered in fluent Elvish, with no apparent accent. Prof stayed in the Domain long enough to recognize a few dialects, but this wasn''t Red, Green, Yellow, Wolf-Brown, or Fox-Brown. That still left a couple of dialects, assuming it wasn''t an accent, to begin with ¨C he only had a passing familiarity with how the Bergian accent worked for Elvish, not the other Human languages.


    ¡°My name is Prof, esteemed caretaker, and I¡¯m new in this city. Would you care for a chat?¡±


    ¡°I''m Aodhan of the Windchaser. Nice to meet you. What news is there from the seas?"


    Prof fished his last bottle of Blood Wine from his pack and they started talking.

 Chapter 8: Lukewarm Pursuit, Part 6

    Dear Readers on Easttale and every other site that is NOT RoyalRoad, please note that you are reading an unlicensed pirate-copy of the original posted on RoyalRoad. If you like the story, please visit RoyalRoad!


    The formating is better, and there are sometimes updates/corrections other sites don''t follow


    As it transpired, Aodhan was adopted as a little boy by the crew of a merchant slash pirate slash official warship as a wee boy after he was found drifting on the high sea alone in a wrecked boat.


    The Blue Elves (both Surface and Subsurface Blues) of the ship accepted him for some reason ¨C mostly such foundlings were either left to drift or sold as¡­ not-slaves, the wording was strange ¨C and he was raised in the proper Elven ways. It was a testimony of the¡­ strange¡­ Elven legal system, that because of this, he was legally considered an Elf, a Grey Elf, to be more precise, but at the same time was legally considered a non-Elf too.


    After spending decades trading, raiding, and battling the Lizards on the high seas, Aodhan, now an old man, decided to retire. One of the Blues ¨C the word Aodhan used was either "uncle", "shipmate" or "adopted brother", Prof wasn''t exactly sure, which was the correct interpretation ¨C had contacts to a Blue trading house (or such) and the old Human got a job as the security detail or caretaker of this depot.


    Only when Prof waved the old seaman goodbye did he realize something important: spending decades fighting meant that the old man was probably high Level. Asking some passing acquaintance for their Level was considered somewhat rude on Arkadia, and spending so much time with only his party made him forget, how Arkadia worked. Everyone got Levels here and there, and being old meant most of the time a high Level, even if he did only mundane things.


    Old Bela from Smallgrovewell came to his mind. How high Level would one be, if heavy fighting was involved? Level 20? 30? Mini told him that she was Level 25 or so when she underwent the ritual to become a Vampire, and she was still young ¨C or younger than the old pirate¡­ He needed to ask more questions...


    The guest house they were dumped into wasn''t a high-quality hotel, but at least it was clean¡­ cleanish, and the food was almost good. After a long time on the road with a party where no one was a really good cook ¨C everyone had [Cooking] below 70% - and only having access to the liberated dry goods and the occasional wild animal, Prof appreciated the fresh porridge-with-berries with some meat they were served.


    There were even spices, flavoring and taste included!


    Leaving their dirty clothes for the cleaning service (courtesy of the Foxkin family on the other side of the alley ¨C they were assured, the matron had a high enough Skill in [Housekeeping] and [Washing] not to ruin their stuff) they visited the bathhouse in their quarter.


    Cleaning on the road was iffy at best, with only the occasional stream or pond, at least the girls were allowed into villages and towns, so they were able to be in presentable condition. Prof, on the other hand, looked, despite his best efforts, like a hobo when they entered the city.


    Previously, he haven''t had the (mis)fortune to have a bath with Beastkin ¨C in Willowflower there weren''t many Beastkin, to begin with ¨C but here in Deadbranch, he got the full experience. Wet Beastkin looked like, well, wet cats, dogs, and foxes. Prof couldn''t fathom, why they were so dead set on the Elven Way of bathing at least twice a day when there was so much fur in the way.


    Seeing a huge (huge for Catkin, anyway) tomcat leaving a pool, trying to dry himself up with a towel, just for the fur transforming into a puffed-up mess of fluff broke something in him. And was obviously just enough for a red exclamation mark to appear in his peripheral view.


    <u>Congratulation!</u>


    For working hard and diligently you have amassed enough EXP to be granted a Level Up! You have received 14 HP and 110 Skill Points that you can distribute as you wish! Only the sky is the limit!


    No new Perk this time. Bummer.


    There was not much of a question, about where he would put his Skill Point, he had already planned it out a long time ago. 18% went into [Observe], 15% each into [Valuation] and [Looting], and 26% each into [Evasion] and [Axes]. If everything went according to plan, he would be able to get his last two tagged Skills to 200% with his next Level Up, and after that, he would be free to spread his Skills out.


    There were still a lot just waiting to be raised! Maybe he found a trainer or some books to beef up his massive amount of Skill Points per Level ¨C but for that, he needed more money. Since it was unlikely to find any trainers or books in the Valley of Torment, he needed to find them in Deadbranch, and for that, he needed to get more money in the city. Maybe there was a dungeon nearby? He got the answer to that from Aodhan the next morning.


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    ¡°There is one a few hours out, to the South. It has two floors, but it¡¯s a shitty one, a whole lot of trees, with not much in the way of loot. Still, there is some you can sell. Let¡¯s see¡­ for about¡­ maybe¡­ that many¡± He wrote a number in Elvish currency on the ground.


    Prof consulted his notebook. If a Waterfall was that many and a Bear were so much, a Leaf has the value of that many coppers¡­ That would mean¡­ A bit more than half a Gold? Why couldn''t Elves use the normal base-100 currency system?!


    ¡°Of course, that is before taxes. For a foreigner, that would be 20%. Ah, do you have a valid Dungeon Exploring Permit?¡±


    Prof did not have one of those yet, but an hour later and after spending five silver he was the proud owner of a one-time permit for that specific dungeon, permit included to leave and re-enter the city.


    As it turned out, Shinead had no time for a quick dive, while Foxy and Mini weren''t in the mood to do one. Prof could have dragged Sharpclaw with him, but she would have needed a permit on her own (strangely, she was NOT considered a dangerous pet, when it came to issuing permits¡­) so he was left alone.


    What could possibly go wrong?


    At worst, he would pick up another party member, as he did after each of his dungeon runs so far.


    Shinead had news about the attackers, they left only two weeks ago in a hurry, but she still needed to investigate some leads and wait for the requested information.


    In a rare case of agreement with Prof, she told Foxy and Mini to get their food and potion supply in order and pay it with their own money. So far Prof was paying for most of the things, with a bit of contribution on the Clan''s part, and Prof was fed up with the leeches. He agreed to buy a few mules but refused to pay for other necessities anymore.


    The mules fell to him because neither Foxy nor Mini was good with equines (they were afraid of Foxy and Mini considered them only as food for Binky) and Shinead could not be bothered with buying them. With the division of responsibility established, Prof was on the way to finally having net gains on the monetary front. Probably.


    But first, he needed that dungeon run.


    For the rest of the day, he got to know the city of Deadbranch and make some small purchases. The city was laid out in a roughly oval form, conforming to the plateau it was situated on, with a fortified mansion on the Northern side. It was too small and un-fortified that it did not warrant the name of the castle, and the Elves did not like to build "normal" castles in the medieval European way as far as he could determine to begin with.


    They were content with hilltop ring fortresses, housing part or all of a village or ¨C as Deadbranch ¨C city walls. There were no dedicated quarters for commerce, crafting, nobles, and such, and even the different Elven races were thrown together haphazardly. There was probably a system in place, but Prof still struggled to understand the convoluted, multi-tiered, and chaotic Elven political system.


    Probably a native could make sense of why a wealthy Green lived next door to a poor Fox-Brown family of manual workers and a Blue tanner, and across a Red guest house, while the plot in the back was taken up by a Cat-Brown convenience store. For him, it looked like someone just assigned plots randomly and forbade the inhabitants to change them up.


    He was finally able to locate an armor smith that could do something with the Dire Bear skull he looted back when he first met Foxy. After discussing a few possible designs, Prof decided he did not have the time to wait a week, did not want to go all-out tribal with his head protection and lug the skull around further (and pay almost half a gold for the work), so he ended up selling it for the equivalent of six silvers and bit of change. He was well aware that he was grossly underpaid, it was worth at least ten, possibly even twelve silvers, but this was probably the last place to sell it for a long time.


    Probably the smith was aware of this fact too.


    Thanks to Aodhan''s advice, he managed to secure a few buyers for the probable dungeon loot too, and get information on what he should expect. He was told, the dungeon worked exclusively with plants and plant-based monsters, and the loot consisted mostly of parts of said plants: fruit, vegetable, spices, plant fiber and oil, bark, and, surprisingly, a few wooden weapons and parts of weapons. Seeing his confusion, about why wooden weapons were good, he was told that the ones the dungeon gave out were almost as durable as low-grade steel and could be much easier to enchant and work with.


    It was not a very lucrative dungeon, all told, no currency was to loot, and most items were available outside without the need for heavy fighting. The city army, guard, or militia ¨C Prof was confused again, the Elves did not make a clear distinction between the three, at least he could not detect it ¨C did a few training sessions there time and again, and so did the small local Red clan. Which may or may not be part of the city''s armed forces. Otherwise, the dungeon was mostly left alone, no one cared enough for the nebulous possibility that leveling in a dungeon was maybe faster.


    Elves had time aplenty.


    Stocking up with a few potions ¨C a few antidotes included, it was said some of the plants were poisonous ¨C he returned to their guest house to have a good night¡¯s sleep before the dungeon run.


    Before going to sleep, he was forced to attend an impromptu fashion show, hosted by Mini. She blew a lot of money on new clothes ¨C one more impractical and gaudy than the next, a few really skimpy ones included. Prof was amazed at how it was possible to find such clothes in a medieval setting, a few of them would be even borderline back on Earth.


    He already learned that Mini owned not one but two backpacks of holding, so the question of where she put her unending selection of clothing was an easy one to answer. Having no need to eat conventional food was a big point in saving funds for one''s hobby.

 Chapter 8: Lukewarm Pursuit, Part 7

    Leaving early in the morning, Prof led his donkey along the path to the dungeon.


    He decided to bring the beast of burden with him, since transporting the loot was easier that way (he still remembered the small junkyard he had to haul back to Smallgrovewell), and according to every information he was able to gather, the entrance grounds of dungeons were reasonably secure from predators and stealing other people¡¯s donkeys was frowned upon in Elven society. Even if he himself was not an Elf and was thus somewhat outside the law, they came upon a solution a week ago: their animals were decorated with the insignia of the Swift Arrow Clan, marking them as Clan Property, and so as Elven Property. No one in his right mind would steal from a Red Clan, after all.


    That was the best way to suffer an accident or get kicked out of the Domain.


    The dungeon was located a few hours out of Deadbranch, on the side of one of the mountains overlooking the city. The trail up there wasn''t really maintained but was easy to follow nonetheless ¨C with a wonderful view of the valley between mountain chains, and even a couple of designated lookout points where the view was even more marvelous.


    Back on Earth, such points were often visited by couples in their cars to¡­khmmm¡­ enjoy the view. Based on the prepared firepits and tent sites ¨C and at least one couple coming down the trail ¨C enjoying the view was not exclusive to Earth Humans.


    The entrance grounds for this dungeon were a park. As in a mix of an English, French, and Japanese pleasure garden, with artfully placed trees, shrubs, bushes, and flowers, with winding paths of white gravel between them. Prof already learned that the entrance grounds gave hints of the dungeon''s theme. He was told that there were dungeons with a miniature volcano, a lake, a battle site, ruins, and graveyards as entrance grounds, almost all of them artistically styled and kept in pristine condition.


    Like advertising: look at the picture of our plump, juicy, three inches thick burger and buy our sorry, miserable, squashed product. However, burgers didn¡¯t try to kill him.


    In the short term, at least.


    Prof tied his donkey to a tree, next to a patch of grass so the animal could have dinner without wandering away and entered the dungeon through a white picket gate. After a short, moss- and ivy-covered corridor he was greeted by the first room ¨C a round affair with a tree in the center and some shrubs next to the wall. According to his information, the tree would try to hit him with its whip-like branches, and if he came close, it released some kind of paralyzing gas. The shrubs on the other hand would try to ensnare him with tendrils and shoot poisoned thorns at him.


    Prof was lucky, however: he had the natural predator of trees and shrubs in his possession. Axes.


    He decided to start with the shrubs, with his armor and Dire Bear overcoat he was confident that the thorns would not reach his skin and he felt better limbering up with small fry than the big tree. As it transpired, the shrubs weren''t a threat, the thorns couldn''t even penetrate his suba, the vines weren¡¯t strong enough to bind him, and only managed to trip him once.


    Massacring the greenery wasn''t hard at all, one or two attacks and the shrubs were done for. The big tree wasn''t much harder either. The whip branches weren''t overly effective, being slow and weak, and with his Vitality of 14 ¨C and corresponding high poison resistance, plus his Anti-poison jewelry ¨C he could shrug the weak gas off too. He got slower while doing the job of a lumberjack, but the different poisons in the other Elven dungeon were much, much, much stronger.


    After felling the big tree, he was a bit stiff but still felt better than anytime back on Earth.


    While he waited for the gas to be flushed out of his system, he perused his loot. The shrubs had a few poisonous berries and a handful of thorns left and there were one or two patches of spices scattered around. The big tree had about a dozen apple-sized fruits, containing the paralyzing gas, and the whip branches could be harvested for good fiber.


    Having no Skills that had anything to do with woodworking, there was no chance he could extract the fiber, so he just cut off the branches. He would get less for the raw material than for the semi-finished product, but it was still better than trying to extract the fibers and ruin the whole batch. The final piece of loot was a patch of distinctly colored bark.


    The next room contained something he already was familiar with: Choking Vines. There were patches of some ferns on the ground too, and Prof was warned that their leaves were razor sharp. They would cause nasty cuts on unarmoured skin, but Prof¡¯s gear was good enough not to have anything to fear.


    The vines didn''t prove any more challenging after he figured out how to handle them in the previous dungeon, so he was able to finish the room fast. He was careful to cut the vines into as long pieces as possible, so he was able to save almost six meters worth of longer pieces. He collected a bunch of the razor ferns too, he was told, they were somewhat useful as reagents in weapon oils.


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    The third room wasn''t much harder either: giant flytraps, interspersed with bladed ferns and thorn-shooting shrubs.


    Well, it wasn''t that hard until Prof accidentally stepped into a flytrap and the petals closed on his leg and he fell down face-first onto a bladed fern. The flytrap started to chew his leg immediately ¨C and ruined another one of his trousers. Luckily it was just a cheap piece, Prof had learned his lessons in the previous dungeons. A few well-placed strikes with his weapons later he was able to free his leg. The whole accident cost him twenty HP, more than all the other rooms combined.


    After that finishing the room was fast. His loot this time were a few berries, razor ferns, and some "teeth" and juice from the flytraps. The former was a delicacy, the latter could be used as a potion for adults with¡­ performance issues.


    In the fourth room, he had to navigate a maze of thorny hedges ¨C he had to be careful, he was warned that the hooked thorns were poisonous and hard to remove. Interspersed with the hedges were thorn-shooting shrubs, and to make it harder, there were pitfalls with flytraps in the bottom, and here and there a few Choking Vines hanging from the ceiling.


    The room wasn''t really hard or dangerous, but extremely annoying. He first tried to hack his way through the hedges but realized that it would take more time than to navigate the maze and despite his best efforts, he still got a few thorns lodged into his hands. He had to cut them out and got seriously sick from the poison. The pitfalls were quite easy to spot, they had slightly different kinds of mosses covering them, and probably everyone with a Perception higher than four or a [Traps] Skill above 25% could have spotted them without any problem.


    At least if one paid attention, meaning only people who didn''t know anything about the dungeon would have been caught by the traps.


    The loot in this room wasn''t worth his time, the already known stuff was only present in small quantities, and the only piece worth anything was a piece of wood, that was good for handles and which was hidden in a patch of the hedge. Even with his Scavenger Perk he probably would have missed it, if he wasn¡¯t warned to look out for it.


    The fifth room was the last one on the first floor, the corridor leading to the second floor was covered by a hedge and protected by the Floor Boss, absolutely surprisingly a giant plant. It had a large head, consisting solely of a huge mouth with rows of sharp teeth. The head was attached to the roots by a waist-thick, flexible, and thorn-covered trunk. Being bound in place, the plant would not pose any danger to ranged combatants, save for one tiny gimmick it boosted: its roots.


    The whole boss room was covered with roots, and they tried to snatch everyone not giving sufficient attention, and dragged the victim back to the plant so the head could munch on them. As an added mechanism the plant released spores after each hit that made everyone that inhaled them dizzy, giving the roots a chance to snag a distracted adventurer.


    Preparing for the fight, Prof covered his face with a piece of wet cloth, hoping for it to be enough against the spores, and entered the room. For a moment he thought about the whole situation. He was going to slice vegetables, which was almost like making a salad, so why did he need fighting Skills for that, and not [Cooking]? Or if the vegetable in question was considered a weed, [Gardening]? But where was the border between weed, plant, and plant-monster drawn?


    Arkadia was still a bit confusing, even the Locals have not been able to figure out some inconsistencies, despite knowing a truckload more about the System than Prof, who has read the official Rulebook, written directly by the Administrator.


    Who was, probably, an idiot or an asshole.


    But it was not the time to use [Philosophy] but to make a salad out of the Floor Boss. Prof rushed into the room, jumping, rolling, and launching over, under, and next to the roots, his aim to reach the plant''s head for a few well-placed Critical Hits. It had a head, so it was probably possible to land a Critical Hit there. Right?


    But then again, could you backstab a book? It has a spine after all, and is most probably prone¡­


    In this case, the plant''s head and the trunk were bound in place, so it couldn''t dodge, evade or ¨C in the absence of arms and weapons ¨C block Prof''s charge. The two axes met the head ¨C you can''t attach only a mouth to a trunk, so the stuff around the mouth probably was the head ¨C and split it into two. Vertically, since the mouth, it was split into two horizontally already. However, a plant has no brain, so slitting its head did nothing but remove the head from the equation.


    Or more correctly, removed half of the head from the equation. The trunk and the roots weren''t influenced whatsoever. Moreover, Prof received a nice dose of dizzy-making spores right in the face and despite the wet cloth enough got through. His vision started to swim, his balance was shot almost immediately, and standing straight was becoming harder and harder. Almost like being drunk but without the nice accompanying buzz.


    He liked the Drunken Moss more.


    Now attacking the trunk, he inhaled more and more spores, and after a time, the roots finally found purchase. Before passing out and ending his second life in a not really dignified way, Prof remembered the antidotes he had bought in Deadbranch just for such a situation and managed to down one of them.


    The dizziness wasn¡¯t completely gone, but at least he regained enough control to keep going. Hit after hit he landed on the trunk, dose after dose of spores he inhaled. Finally, he needed to down the second antidote, but the Boss wasn¡¯t felled yet. The head was entirely gone by this time, the trunk reduced to a stump, but the roots still continued their attack; from the waist down, Prof was completely encased in them, and they started to squeeze very hard. Right before Prof had to drink his third antidote, the Boss was finally defeated.


    It was looting time!

 Chapter 8: Lukewarm Pursuit, Part 8

    The main piece of loot from the Boss was its ¡°heart¡±, a fist-sized piece of plant matter hidden deep beneath the roots.


    According to his buyer, a potent insecticide could be made from it, or when mushed a good fertilizer for rare plants. The rest of the loot consisted of a jar of sap from the roots and a few teeth from the remains of the head. If not for him going all out on the trunk, he would have been able to harvest a bit of fiber from it. Throwing the loot into his bag, Prof concluded, the dungeon was indeed a shitty one.


    The loot was underwhelming, the challenge ¨C not counting the Boss ¨C laughable, and the layout unimaginative. What the city militia was training here, Prof could not fathom. Maybe the "training exercise" was like the team buildings were back on Earth: everyone got drunk and had a free evening away from home.


    Prof shrugged and walked over to the hedge-covered exit. Wasn''t it customary that the door to the next floor opened after defeating the Boss? Probably only in Earth fiction, obviously on Arkadia one had to work for the possibility of advancing further. At least the hedge was an inferior version of the greenery in the fourth room, so Prof was able to hack his way through easily.


    Only one thorn lodged into his forearm.


    The second floor was reachable through a short curving corridor, and according to his information was a step up in difficulty. The first room was occupied by half a dozen meter-high, twig-like creatures, hiding between chest-high bladed ferns and thorn-shooting bushes. The latter was more dangerous than it was on the first floor, the thorns almost able to penetrate clothing and armor.


    The twig creatures were individually not much of a threat, their weak limbs doing basically no damage to Prof, but they swarmed him and tried to drag him into the bladed ferns. They also didn''t have much in the way of HP, and since their main bodies consisted of most of the loot (it could be made into hafts and handles), Prof decided to be cautious with swinging his axes. As it turned out, kicking on twiggy hard was enough to defeat them ¨C with 101% in [Hand-to-Hand Combat] Prof was just proficient enough to land a kick once out of three times.


    He lost ten HP in the room, almost exclusively from the bladed ferns, and ended up dispatching two of the six walking bundles of kindling after all. Two others were kicked hard enough to crack the main body, so Prof was left with only two hafts as loot, plus some berries and ferns.


    In contrast to the first floor, where the corridors and rooms led to the boss room in a straight line, the second floor at least implemented sideways corridors. The one leading to the second room was located on the left side, deep behind the ferns and shrubs. Another four HP were sacrificed to reach the exit.


    The second room was a maze again, this time with random twiggies jumping out of the hedges. The pitfalls were a bit better camouflaged too, but after falling into the very first one, Prof noticed the tell-tales and avoided the rest. The most dangerous part was the twiggies, a few times they almost succeeded to push him into the hedges or the pitfalls, but with Agility and Dexterity of 18 (and vastly higher body mass), Prof was always able to remain standing. A slower or lighter person would have been probably pushed into the hedges.


    He managed to harvest six main twigs, another few berries and flytrap "teeth", but the loot was still lackluster. No coins, no metal, no baubles, just plant parts. In his time in the Domain, he hadn''t seen any Elves hugging trees, and he knew they liked money (specifically his money), and it was said they were the best smiths on Arkadia, so they probably liked metals too. Not being much of a plant-lover, Prof couldn''t understand, what such a dungeon could give them.


    Then again, Prof was explicitly told, that the dungeon was shitty and not many Elves visited it.


    To reach the third room, he had to exit the room on the left side again. Navigating the maze took time and was as annoying as the maze on the first floor.


    The third room was inhabited by midget treants; two meter-high walking trees, waving clubs around. The three tree-people advanced in a line abreast, not giving Prof a chance to single one out easily. Fortunately, they were slow, cumbersome, and had very low Skill in swinging their weapon around. Prof tested them for a few minutes, learning that there was no teamwork between the three, they could easily get in each other''s way, stopping in confusion.


    Launching his offensive, Prof kited two mini-treants into the third, and when they ran into each other, he attacked the third one. A chainsaw would have been better to fell the pocket trees, but Humans have used axes for the same purpose for thousands of years ¨C and so did Prof now. With a few hits, he crippled the left leg of his target, retreated, and launched another feint. One of the remaining woodmen even fell over its crippled companion.


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Prof took advantage and attacked the last treant left standing. Again, a few hits were enough to cripple that one too, but the tripped would-be firewood was back on its feet already. Prof retreated a bit so the two treants, crawling after him could not reach him, and crippled the last one too.


    This was finally proper training! Having put 26% into [Axes] he could feel the difference. His movements became more flowing, the strikes just a bit more precise, a bit stronger. If he had this level of Skill back when he fought the Dire Wolf, things would have been much easier. Now, against the slow and ponderous trees, he reigned supreme.


    Killing the crawling treants was easy afterward. Just hacking firewood in the backyard. As loot Prof got the three clubs (raw material for carpentry), and a collection of different parts of the treants themselves.


    Continuing, Prof took a right turn. The fourth room held three grown-up, four-meter tall treants, wielding wooden maces. The weapons even had spikes! Or large thorns¡­


    These walking trees were a bit better at teamwork, but they could still lead into blocking each other, and they weren''t much faster and more dexterous than their midget variants. And definitely not much more intelligent either.


    What they were better at was durability.


    Their thicker bark gave them some armor that made Prof''s attacks less damaging, even with Critical Hits. His tactic remained the same from the previous room; goading two treants to block each other and trying to cripple the third one. Because of the bark armor, it took twice as long to cripple each leg, and even if he managed to cripple, the treant did not crawl after him but used its mace as a crutch. Prof had to destroy both of their legs (or one leg and a mace) to send them crawling, so even more work for him.


    After all three trees were felled and looted, Prof took a break. Fighting through the dungeon without much of a pause took its toll, Prof started to get tired ¨C and he still had the boss to defeat.


    The loot so far wasn''t outstanding, and he could use basically nothing from the whole haul. Even the loot from the large treants was only good for selling. One of the maces survived, and he got a treant heart (looking like an actual heart, just made out of plant matter) from each of them. As far as he knew, the hearts were the base ingredient for a potion that gave some armor rating for skin ¨C it was a useful potion, but it was reserved for Army Use Only, so Prof could only dream about having a few of them.


    He had to dissect the treants to get to the last part of the loot: "bones". They were no bones as found in animals, but denser, stronger wood. Next to some alchemical properties, the larger pieces were good for hafts. Prof was told, it was better than the average wood his weapon''s hafts were made of, so he reserved two humeri for his own use. The leg bones he had crushed, but that still left him with a lot of bones to work with.


    Dissecting a tree was disturbing. There was no blood, but green sap (he collected about a liter worth) and he could identify only a few organs. His [Medicine] Skill was abysmal, but he nonetheless was sure, a Human had more than four internal organs. There were no lungs, for example. Well, trees breathed through their leaves, so they had not had much use for their lungs.


    Rested up, he set out for the last room, the Boss Room for the second floor. The Boss was an even larger Treant, almost six meters tall, wielding a wooden sword. Prof tried to use [Observe] on it, having forgotten to use it on the other dungeon monsters so far. The information he received wasn¡¯t much, the Skill only informed him, that it was a Boss and below Level 6.


    That was somewhat strange.


    Even the raccoon was at a higher Level, despite being only the Boss on the first floor. Then again, the fights in this dungeon were strangely easy, maybe the monsters were really low Level? He hasn''t asked about the Level in the city. Prof shrugged. Don''t look an easy fight in the mouth, or however, the saying went.


    At first, Prof tested the Giant Treant and concluded that it still was rather slow and ponderous. The only thing that went in favor of it was the thick bark covering most of the creature, providing enough armor that Prof''s axes were almost useless. Almost but not entirely and the armor-piercing spike on one of his axes proved its worth especially. Prof could evade the Treant''s swings easily, felling the legs however was a long slog.


    Damaging one leg took three times as long as with the normal treants in the previous room. By the time the Giant Treant finally fell to the ground, Prof was starting to get tired, and he still had to finish the fight. That took even more time, the bark on its back was even thicker than on the legs, but thankfully Prof didn¡¯t have to evade while hacking away.


    And finally, the Giant Treant transformed from an enemy needing killing to a pile of dead plant matter needing to be looted. The harvest was around the same as the medium-sized treants provided: a two-handed wooden sword, a treant heart, and a lot of "bones". He mentally assigned the humerus to himself, so he could sell the medium ones. According to his source, the Giant Treant''s bones were even better than those of the medium ones.


    Making a last sweep of the boss room, his Scavenger Perk started tingling. Beneath a small bush, he found another little statue, this time of a gold-plated bronze official. Maybe a high noble or a high priest, he wasn''t sure how either dressed on Arkadia.


    Prof debated for a bit if there was any sense of doing a second run, but decided against it. The dungeon was too annoying to be bothered with again, and although the loot was passably valuable, it was cumbersome to carry and disgusting to harvest. He waved goodbye to the nice park at the entrance and set out to sell his gains.

 Chapter 9: Into the Valley of Death, Part 1

    ¡°Torment, not Death! It¡¯s called Valley of Torment!¡± Foxy told him for the third time


    ¡°But, if you say both in Elvish, they are almost the same. If you put the accent at the beginning it¡¯s Torment, if you put it on the second syllable, it¡¯s Death. See?¡±


    ¡°But they are different words!¡±


    ¡°Yes, and if you put another letter in mom, and change three others, you get beer.¡± Mini stopped the argument ¡°The whole thing is stupid and boring!¡±


    It was two days after Prof left the dungeon, and the party just approached the border post on the pass.


    After returning to Deadbranch Prof managed to sell the loot for only thirty-five silver after taxes. Changing the hafts of his axes cost him another one, and he was lucky because the carpenter doing it gave him a discount for bringing him a lot of raw material from the dungeon. Prof was absolutely certain that he was swindled again, his [Valuation] Skill told him that even paying taxes the cost for the whole haul should have been around forty-five silvers.


    But at least he was done with the Domain, he wasn''t planning on returning for a long time. The two new mules he bought cost him a total of twenty-five silver, another few silver was spent on necessities and a few books. The book on Elven Etiquette was a purchase long overdue and probably redundant at this point, the cookbook, another on medicine and first aid, and a third on traps were more useful.


    Shinead also managed to find some information about Guillermo and the band of Humans he was traveling with. Not much was gleaned about his past, but it looked like he was born to a Blue Elf father and a Garuli woman, and he probably grew up in the Gerulian Federation.


    That was the collection of city-states South of the Bergian Kingdoms.


    Why he left the Federation and how he managed to get a sponsorship from a Shadowgrey Elf was unknown. According to some unreliable information he was after an ancient relic that was left behind when the Valley of Torment came into existence. If he was paid by the Shadowgrey to retrieve it or if he wanted it for himself, was not known.


    The patrol on the border post just waved them through ¨C it was easier to leave the Domain than to enter it. On the other side of the pass, the geography changed abruptly. In contrast to the widely spaced mountain chains East of the last range, there were no other mountains to the West, the ground lowered itself gradually down into the valley.


    Normally, one would expect a wide horizon from so high up, but the air was quite humid in a somewhat yellowish, sick way. All that was seen from the pass was the uniform deep green coverage in the valley, shifting to grey in the distance before not even large shapes could be discerned. The old road, leading down into the valley was nothing more than a trail, the passing of the Human band a few weeks back already almost grown over.


    ¡°Remember, stay close together." Foxy warned them "As I warned you, distance and space are relative and weak here. You could walk a few meters in a direction and never find the road again. It is said, that the Valley is around five times as large on the inside as it looks from the outside. We will be lucky if we are able to find this Guillermo."


    ¡°I have brought a magical compass, it should point us in the right way," Shinead said.


    ¡°Yes, but it only indicates direction, not distance, nor does it indicate the shortest way to the mark," Foxy warned. Prof got it. The shortest way from A to C was not necessarily through B but by working your way up the alphabet from the other direction.


    ¡°No need to chance to get lost. I will hold on to you and Prof!" Mini volunteered. She was in one of her "adventurer''s" garbs again, sandals, red yoga pants, and a black button-up shirt three sizes too large. She didn''t bother with buttoning up the shirt ¨C obviously, she was hanging out with Elves for too long.


    The little caravan started to descend into the valley. Shinead, as the best tracker they had with the magical compass in the front, followed by Foxy, then Sharpclaw, leading the donkey and one of the mules, and Prof with the other two mules. The rear was bought up by Mini, riding Binky. A few hundred meters down from the pass ¨C in distance it was more than a dozen kilometers ¨C the road left the scattered pines and entered the forest proper.


    From one step to another, the thick forest blocked the view of the mountain, and when Prof walked back to the place, where previously he could see the range, he was greeted only with thick forest as far as he could see. Distance and space were really finicky in the valley. From what he could guess, they were already days away from the pass ¨C or just a few steps if they made the steps in the right direction.


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    In the early afternoon, they found an abandoned campground, with some detritus scattered about and two graves on one side. Behind the graves, a cairn was built from field stones.


    ¡°Usually, expeditions leave these behind for the later investigators.¡± Foxy clarified ¡°There is probably a logbook placed inside.¡±


    ¡°Should we search the graves?¡± Prof asked


    ¡°And what if someone is at home?¡± Mini was horrified ¡°You don¡¯t just dig up someone¡¯s home and make it off with his stuff! Even if you re-kill him, his family and estate would be probably furious!¡±


    ¡°Oh, undead¡­ Sorry to bring it up. That was insensitive of me."


    ¡°Hey, I was just joking! If no one was at home or you are able to re-kill or rob him, that would be the right of the stronger. No one would have much of a problem with it. Only the guy you rekilled or robbed. Always make sure you properly re-kill someone!"


    Prof¡¯s impulse to do archeology already went out of the window, Mini joking about robbing some innocent undead who just wanted to have a nap destroyed his last inclination. It was on some level disturbing, that folks in Forestdeep considered graves as resting places ¨C as in homes ¨C and found it all right to rob and re-kill the owners. If only the robber was strong enough.


    Sharpclaw, on the other hand, was not interested in philosophy or the difference between archeology and grave robbing and enthusiastically started digging.


    Foxy and Shinead meanwhile inspected the cairn. It indeed contained a logbook from the expedition, unfortunately, it was mostly coded. Only one page was written in plain Elvish. According to the note, it took the band a whole week to reach the campground, and they have already lost half of their man; either killed by monsters or gone missing. Foxy pocketed the logbook but put the accompanying letter back into the cairn after making a note in it that it took less than a day for them for the same distance.


    Sharpclaw''s excavation was successful; she found two decaying corpses, but without much in the way of grave goods. Both were Humans as far as the party could guess, one obviously suffered a violent death, losing one''s head wasn''t possible in a peaceful way, but they couldn''t determine the cause of death for the other. The few things in the grave were not worth much ¨C probably this is why they were buried with the owners and not looted ¨C so they left them with the dead and closed the graves.


    Visiting the campground and resting for a short while was enough to lose the trail they were following. Where previously there was a faint trail, now only forest waited for them. Thankfully they bought their animals with them, so at least they didn¡¯t lose their equipment.


    ¡°Wait!¡± Foxy stopped them ¡°Let¡¯s get back to the campground, but follow our footsteps there! Sooo¡­ We entered the grounds from there but tried to leave that way. We should try to retrace our steps from where we entered.¡±


    They did so, but neither arrived in the deep forest nor found the trail. Instead, they arrived at a grassy field, with some overgrown ruins in the middle of it. If the ruin was once a tower, a castle, a mansion, or something entirely different, they could not say from the few stumps of masonry sticking out of bushes and debris. The party approached to have a closer look.


    ¡°Definitely not Elvish¡± Foxy concluded ¡°Too much stone for that.¡±


    ¡°But I have seen stone structures previously¡± Prof interjected ¡°And it¡¯s old, maybe the old Elves built differently! Who else could have built this?¡±


    ¡°How high is your [Architecture]? If I remember correctly, below 50%, no? Did you notice all those wooden supports and base structures? If Elves build from stone, the supporting structure is still wood. Heavily enchanted wood. The stone would wither away faster than the wood."


    ¡°Old Elves?¡± Shinead snorted ¡°The Valley came into being barely two generations ago, not much changed in that time for Elvenkind!¡±


    ¡°So, if it was not Elves, who else could have built this? The Greenskins or the Lizards? Humans?¡±


    ¡°No lizzzardssss. No usssse sssssso lot sssstone¡± Sharpclaw informed him


    ¡°I don''t know much of the architecture of the Greenskins, but it doesn''t really fit either. And it''s probably not Human-made, I think. See those regular blocks? Bergians definitely don''t use such, and as far as I know, other people do neither. But¡­ hmmm¡­ this reminds me of something¡­"


    While Foxy thought hard, the others poked around a bit. What remained from the structure was built entirely out of uniform square blocks of stone, and despite the destruction still looked sturdy. Details were, however, washed away by time.


    Back on Earth Prof visited a few archeological sites, and he got the impression that the ruins were made by a high culture that mastered building stuff a long time ago. Even the Colosseum in Rome did not give the feeling of such skill, maybe the indestructible might of the Great Pyramids came close. Something wasn''t right.


    ¡°We should leave. I haven''t gotten this feeling since I visited Kaa''Raa''Taak" Mini was unusually subdued.


    ¡°Kaa¡¯Raa¡¯Taak? OF COURSE! Move your asses! We shouldn¡¯t be here!¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the matter?¡±


    ¡°Precursor ruins, that¡¯s the matter! MOVE!¡±

 Chapter 9: Into the Valley of Death, Part 2

    ¡°See, Kaa''Raa''Taak is probably the most important estate in Forestdeep." Mini clarified as soon as they retreated from the field in a hurry "It was built on top or out of ancient ruins. It is said, the old keep even predates Elves, and the Great Kaa''Raa, the ruler of the estate was a member of the species that built it. He is now a Greater Lich, though."


    ¡°Yes, the species is called Dragonkin in the scientific community." Foxy added, "They fought a long war against us when we came to Fenria."


    ¡°So, the ruins belong to a long-extinct species. I don¡¯t see where the problem is.¡±


    ¡°The problem is, that they are not fully extinct, there are some remnants in Forestdeep, and probably further East and North. For some reason, not even the Forestians encroach on those places. Not counting the remnants, all the ruins I heard of being haunted. Against ghosts, phantoms, specters, wights, and all those other ethereal things you need magical weapons. We don¡¯t have any of those.¡±


    ¡°Actually, my saber is magical. Every noble in my estate has a magical weapon."


    ¡°Although my family dagger isn¡¯t magical in itself, it is made of magical metal.¡±


    ¡°Fine, we have two magical weapons. Still not enough, if we were to be jumped. Better safe than sorry. Shinead, could you please check the compass? Which direction do we need to go?"


    ¡°That way. Looks like South-West, no?¡±


    It was closer to the West, not that it mattered.


    The direct route the compass indicated was along a small stream, right through the dense forest. Having no trail to follow, just the narrow strip of tree-less bank made the progress slower than in the morning. The leading ropes for the animals continuously got stuck on some branches, and there were even a few rocky places, where they had to detour through the stream, or, in the case of rapids, through the forest.


    When night-time fell, Prof realized, they forgot to buy something this time too: tents. The party found a small clearing for their camp, and under Foxy''s direction roped it off. She told them in no uncertain terms that they should under no circumstances leave the roped-off area; however, it was probably unnecessary, since everyone noticed the inconsistent spatial properties of the Valley already. Going to take a piss and finding themselves probably hundreds of kilometers away wasn''t something anyone wanted.


    Prof volunteered for the first shift guarding their camp, followed by Shinead and Mini. It was agreed to give Foxy a shift the next day, and the two Elves didn''t think it was a good idea to let Sharpclaw take a shift on her own. Since she didn''t need so much sleep as the others, she nonetheless stayed with Prof.


    The night went away in a strange peace. There was constant rustling outside of the roped-off camp, both small critters, and a few larger things. The larger things probably hunted the smaller critters ¨C or each other ¨C there were a few instances where predator and prey had a meeting to discuss the viability of the food chain. Strangely no animal tried to invade the campground.


    Prof was curious. Space and distance were quite random in the Valley, as they learned themselves, how could animals have fixed territories when rounding a tree in the wrong direction would land it probably hundreds of kilometers away? Or could the local animals navigate the strange space? A few thousand years would be enough to let evolution kick in, after all.


    The next day the compass indicated Guillermo to be in the North, and not in the West anymore. Also, the stream they were following the previous day was gone, although they camped only a few meters away.


    The way North was at first through an untamed forest, but an hour into the hike they found a trail that went almost in the right direction. Their speed picked up after that somewhat, but they still weren''t as fast as on the road in the Domain. Strangely, they still haven''t met or seen any animals or monsters, only heard the noise of something running away.


    A few hours before night fell they found another abandoned campground, this time it was littered with discarded, surplus equipment, another cairn, and another grave. The Elves went to investigate the cairn, while Sharpclaw started to dig up the grave. Prof and Mini poked around the discarded trash.


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Not much was learned. The camp was one of the very first Guillermo''s band had stopped by after leaving the Domain, the accompanying letter was brief in the description, of what happened. Foxy filled in some comments on the accompanying letter and pocketed the journal itself.


    The grave was occupied by another Human, this time heavily shredded by (probably) an animal or monster, and had again no grave goods to speak of. The assorted clutter that was abandoned was just that: assorted clutter no one would lug around even with the best-prepared expedition. No valuables, they cared to save and encumber themselves with.


    They decided to stay for the night, nightfall wasn¡¯t that far away anyways.


    The next morning, after another night of critters doing critter stuff, they embarked on continuing the chase. Checking the compass before leaving the campsite it still pointed to the North, but when they left it ¨C the previous trail vanished and they were greeted by a different, broader one ¨C it swung back to the South. The trail conveniently led almost in the right direction again so they followed.


    After only a few hours of southward travel, they entered a grassy field with some withered ruins in the middle.


    ¡°Definitely not Elvish¡± Foxy concluded ¡°Too much stone for that.¡±


    ¡°Yes, we know¡± Prof butted in ¡°They are the same ruins we visited two days ago.¡±


    ¡°Strange, we keep losing the trail we follow but found the very same ruin twice already."


    ¡°Yeah, the trail is gone again, by the way. What direction is Guillermo this time?¡±


    ¡°East. That is that way, across the field.¡±


    ¡°We should make haste. Don¡¯t approach the ruins!¡±


    On the other side of the field, they had to traverse a patch of wood with a width of a few kilometers. Behind the patch, they were greeted by a wide river.


    ¡°That should be the Rolling Water, the main river of the Valley¡± Foxy informed them. ¡°Probably. No other such large river should exist here.¡±


    ¡°Actually, I wanted to ask about that.¡± Prof turned to Foxy, who was the most knowledgeable of the whole party ¡°You said, the Valley was a few times larger on the inside, and the pieces of territory constantly shift around, we have already learned that. I would assume, the last mapping was done before the Valley came into existence. How could we be sure what is where and what the geography of the Valley really looks like?¡±


    ¡°You are partially correct. However, I suspect the terrain not shifting around but only us. Look it this way: the Valley is this scarf, now I crumple it and stretch it just like so. There are places where the scarf is taut, and places where it is slack or folded. On the taut places you go straight, but when you arrive at a slack or folded place, you can deviate from one fold to another. At least someone explained it to me like this a few years ago.¡±


    ¡°So, if we could find only the taut places or stabilize the slack ones, we could traverse the Valley without problems?"


    ¡°Yes and no. You would need a way to measure the tautness of space and as far as I understand, the folding of space here is not static, but dynamic. What today is taut, could be slack tomorrow."


    ¡°Right. Shinead, where is our mark? Do we need to cross the river? That should be hard.¡±


    Yeah, as the old joke went, there was neither a bridge, a boat, or a convenient fairy to grant three wishes...


    ¡°No need to cross the river. That cur is currently¡­ To the West! Seriously?!?¡±


    Prof suspected, there was no need ¨C or sense ¨C to follow the compass. If they set out in a random direction, they would probably have the same chance to happen on Guillermo and his band. Telling that to Shinead with her magic compass would probably not make any difference to what they already did. Following the compass was almost as good as setting out in a random direction.


    As it was expected, the forest they entered continued on, not leading them back to the field with the Dragonkin ruins. Following the compass meant they wandered here and there, one time to the West then back up North, making a detour to the East, going South a bit, or any combination of the above. Every other day, they arrived back at the ruins.


    Prof started to suspect that the ruins had some significance and not just for historical and archeological reasons. Inspecting or even starting to excavate them was out of the question, only Prof and Sharpclaw had a minimal inclining to get even close to them, and the others refused categorically. They weren''t going to risk awakening some ghost or the like with only two magical weapons at their disposal. Mini even added another dimension to the threat, by informing them that to wound or defeat an ethereal enemy, magical weapons were only the very first pre-requisite, they needed to land Critical Hits.


    Of course, only Prof was focused on dealing with those, and he lacked a magical weapon. He realized, that since his [One-Handed Swords] were too low, he would be left with only one choice, Shinead''s prized family dagger.


    Prof shut up after that realization.

 Chapter 9: Into the Valley of Death, Part 3

    After almost three weeks of wandering, they returned for the umpteenth time to the ruins. They were short on food, were filthy, and lost half their animals.


    One of the new mules just wandered off in the middle of the night during the first week. Sharpclaw noticed it too late and wanted to go after it, but fortunately, Prof was able to reach her before she went beyond the rope. Losing a beast of burden was less of a problem than losing one of the party members. With how strange a way the Valley worked, Prof was sure, they would never see the mule or the Kobold again.


    The other was killed by a strange cat monster with green fur, excellent camouflage capabilities, and larger than the mule itself a few days later. In one moment they were hiking through a quiet forest, the next there was an enormous cat on top of a dead mule, preparing to pounce on the next in line, Foxy.


    Both jumped at the same time, Foxy sailing above the cat, while the latter landed not far from Prof. He had only enough time to un-sheath his axes and evade the next pounce, leaving the next in line, Mini, to face the cat. She already had her crossbow in hand, preparing to let loose, but Binky had other ideas and lurched forward. Flinging the vampire to the ground.


    Following the cat, Prof tried to Observe it, but in return, he only got the impression, it was above Level 10 and at least an Elite. Not much information¡­


    Wanting to help the Scorpionlizard, he dived into the fight. As it transpired, that was not his best idea ever. Have you ever tried to separate two dogs fighting each other earnestly? Imagine the two dogs being each upward of three hundred kilos and two meters in height, with an overabundance of sharp claws and teeth. Prof was not bitten (he probably wouldn''t have survived the experience) but only kicked in the chest by a hind leg.


    The leg in question was green, but both monsters being green did not help him to discern the attacker. It probably had fur and not scales.


    Fortunately, his traditional overcoat and expensive armor mitigated most of the damage, but he was still left hurting and short on breath. And out of the fight for a short time to collect his bearing.


    Foxy was smarter, throwing small root fragments at the two, casting her root trap spell on rapid fire. Not that it helped much, half of the spells fizzled, the other half slowing down the combatants for only fractions of seconds.


    ¡°Binky! Disengage! Come here, buddy! Binky!" Mini tried hard to separate the two verbally, all the while trying to get a clean shot. After one or two minutes, her mount finally heeded her call and disengaged. Both animals were bleeding profoundly, and Prof couldn''t decide which one was in worse shape. Remembering that Binky was a Level 20 Elite, he gulped. That was probably not good.


    As soon as Binky was clear, Mini let loose. As did Shinead. Either she had worse equipment or her Skill was not up to the task, but her arrow just bounced off the cat¡¯s fur. Mini¡¯s two bolts not so much, the cat¡¯s pained grunt told about some serious damage received. Probably. Hopefully.


    With Foxy''s spells doing nothing noteworthy, and Shinead''s arrows being useless, they had only one choice, going close and personal. Seeing the state Binky was in, they were justifiably reluctant. Only Prof and Mini had any armor that deserved the name.


    ¡°I will try to occupy it!" Prof decided. He had the heaviest armor of everyone present, he would have to tank the cat. Or play bait. "Mini, shoot at will, the others, try to flank it!"


    The dance has begun.


    Prof had to pull all stops just to defend against the overgrown pussycat, but even his 201% in [Evasion] wasn''t truly enough. He managed to evade all direct, full-powered hits, but even the glancing attacks did the damage. Despite his armor! In short order, he was down to just 20 HP. A few other glancing hits, and he was back in the Afterlife Office, reading another Rulebook. Hopefully, that also included every last rule and wasn''t just a guide.


    He was saved by Binky, who pushed him aside and re-engaged the cat. Fortunately, this time he just occupied its attention and did not attack all out. Prof downed a few potions and prepared for the second turn.


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    In the meantime, the others were busy too. Foxy equipped her strange hand-claws, Shinead attacked with her dagger, and even Sharpclaw was able to make a successful sneak attack. The cat was, however, still fine.


    ¡°Hundred fifty HP more¡± Foxy called out. 150 HP?!?! That was fifty percent more than Prof had in total! What kind of over-leveled monstrosity they happened on?!?!


    With Binky as a tank, Prof joined in attacking the cat ¨C and disengaged almost immediately to feed a potion to Sharpclaw who got hit by a swing of the cat¡¯s tail.


    ¡°Protect the animals, try not to die," He told her, and joined the attack once more.


    They managed to defeat the cat after what felt like hours with maximum effort, but except Mini, everyone suffered injuries in return.


    ¡°Phew¡­ That was a Level 15 Boss...¡± Foxy informed them, panting hard and holding her left hand. The deep gash on it was already healing. ¡°Let¡¯s not do something like this again.¡±


    Prof surveyed their kill. The pelt was ruined by all that shooting, biting, scratching, cutting, smashing, and other versions of animal cruelty. A pity, that would have fetched a good amount of money ¨C assuming they could have prepared it sufficiently. With how low their Skills were in that regard and the absence of stuff to prepare the pelt with¡­ Yeah, rest in peace, good amount of money.


    From the rest, Prof was able to save the heart, (so far hearts of powerful animals were sought after), the claws, and the fangs. Prof saved a claw for his lucky charm ¨C he still needed someone to make it, though. The heart went into Foxy''s belly bag of holding, the rest into their packs.


    After redistributing the packs to their still-living beasts of burden, they continued chasing Guillermo.


    The camo-cat was their most dangerous encounter, but not the only one. Lesser cats, a few wolves, a giant spider, a nest of meter-long ants, snakes (one of them was a five-meter-long constrictor), and even a giant bird. And so on. They encountered a whole zoo in their travels. Prof was almost crying, they had to leave most of the usable loot behind, Foxy''s bag wasn''t infinite, after all, and Mini refused to let him use her clothes-only backpacks.


    Injuries mounted, and so their stock in Potions dwindled. And finally, it ran dry.


    Prof was also down to his last but one pair of pants and shirts. The two Elves, having no problem with nudity stowed their clothes before the end of the first week, and ran around naked, much to the amusement of Mini. Mini, on the other hand¡­ Followed their example, only leaving her leather jacket on.


    Sharpclaw didn''t mind either, as Prof figured out clothing in Lizard society was something only the higher castes did, and even then only for decoration. A whole world full of an exhibitionist! A wet dream! For someone else, Prof was already sanitized.


    Feeding Mini was another issue. Her need for blood for everyday existence was practically non-existent, but even that minuscule amount added up. As soon as she used her Traits, the consumption skyrocketed. Feeding her animal blood was not a viable option, low-Level critters gave her almost no blood at all, and the few higher leveled ones they would have needed to keep subdued long enough to let Mini feed. In order to not let her starve, first Foxy, then Prof and Sharpclaw, and finally Shinead volunteered to provide a bit of blood every other day or so.


    Getting Shinead to agree wasn¡¯t easy and involved a shouting match.


    They found a few other abandoned campsites too, some with a cairn, some without, and some had the cairns scattered. Some (probably the earlier ones) had graves, but later on, no one cared enough to bury the dead. To judge by the scattered remains that were left after the local animals had a banquette.


    They could piece together, that Guillermo¡¯s band shrank to a couple of Grey Elves and a few accompanying Humans. The others went missing, were killed by the flora and fauna and a few were even executed or killed by their fellow members of the expedition. Foxy pocketed every last journal and edited the letter left behind.


    Arriving at the field with the ruins again, Mini threw herself to the ground.


    ¡°This is sooooo boooooring! Gimme something fun to do! Or do some funny things to me! Or WITH me! That would be much better! I¡¯m not going any further!¡±


    Except for Shinead, everyone had enough of the Valley and just wanted their chase to end already. Having nothing important and pressing to do didn''t mean they enjoyed the wild fool''s chase in the constantly shifting forest. Only Shinead was prepared to wander as long as it took to have her revenge.


    ¡°Agreed. Not with the funny stuff, but the wandering about!¡± Prof replied to Mini ¡°We keep returning here, no matter where we go. Let¡¯s rest for a few days, and wait for Guillermo here!¡±


    ¡°Wait for me, why exactly?¡±

 Chapter 9: Into the Valley of Death, Part 4

    ¡°For your crimes against the Swift Arrow Clan, I sentence you to death!¡± Screamed Shinead.


    Prof managed to tackle her before she could engage Guillermo''s band of ten on her own. He recognized Guillermo from the description, a fellow in good gear. He had a long dagger and an axe in his belt and a bow on his back.


    The rest of his band consisted of four other Grey Elves and five Humans. At least Prof assumed that they were Grey Elves and Humans, he wasn''t exactly sure how to differentiate between pure-blooded Elves and Grey ones. Or at what point a person stopped being a Grey Elf and became a Human?


    From the four other Grey Elves two were clearly female, one clearly a male, but he would have given even chances for the last one. One of the females was a hunter, ranger, or something in that direction, sporting clothes in brown and green and a very nice-looking bow. The other was probably a close combat specialist, or possibly a duellist. She was dressed in colorful, body-hugging pants and a flaring shirt, with a richly decorated rapier and a dagger hanging from her ornate belt.


    The male, on the other hand, was dressed much more poorly, Prof would have thought of him as some hobo, were it not for some rings on his fingers and his basically clean skin. Prof could not find any weapon on him.


    The last person wore mismatched clothing, male and female like she went through a collection for some charity and picked the first things she found, disregarding size, gender, and color. Most particular was the skin color: a very deep brown, almost black. Prof hadn''t seen ¨C or even heard of ¨C such coloration on Arkadia yet. Maybe a Black Elf? The person had a huge collection of different weapons on itself, from small throwing daggers to a used-looking zweih?nder.


    The Humans (one female and four males) were in contrast almost uniform in their gear. They wore chainmail shirts, studded leather greaves, sturdy boots, and simple kettle hat helmets. Three of the males had spears, swords, and mid-sized shields, the fourth, largest male had a two-handed axe, and the female only had a sword and a small shield.


    The two groups were standing apart from each other, but still at an easy supporting distance.


    ¡°Swift Arrow Clan?¡± Guillermo asked ¡°Oh, that would be those morons in the East. Sorry, they just suffered an accident, see? Are you some remnant or such?¡±


    ¡°An accident?!?! Red Elves never suffer accidents! They are the accidents that happen to monkeys, you cur!¡± Shinead screamed from below Prof. She was trying hard to get free, but Prof''s greater weight (and probably his higher [Hand-to-Hand Combat] was enough to keep her pinned. Barely. While still naked. That would lead to some serious problems down the line, for now, Shinead was too angry to realize the close contact.


    ¡°Ah, are we calling others names? No matter, I''m on official business, so stand down, little bitch." Answered the Grey Elf, this time in Bergian. That was probably for all the non-Elves'' benefit. Maybe to drive a wedge between Shinead, Foxy, and the three others. The problem with the idea was, that Prof was inclined to stand at Shinead''s side (and or follow Foxy''s lead) whatever happened, and the other two simply didn''t care, who was an official. Or claimed to be.


    ¡°NEVER! You attacked my Clan, and that proves, you are not on official business! No Elf can harm another! You are dead, nonetheless!¡±


    Guillermo did not answer, just flashed a badge.


    ¡°Shinead, stand down!¡± Foxy got involved in the shouting match ¡°That¡¯s an order!¡±


    ¡°Sleep with a monkey, Little Sister! You can not order me around!¡±


    That was interesting. Why would Foxy try to order a Red Elf around and expect the order to be followed? In all the time they traveled together, Foxy mostly just observed or tried to pry information out of Prof. She never tried to order anyone around.


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    ¡°You know that I can. Stand down or face the consequences!¡±


    Prof was really confused now. Being adept at the High King''s Academy gave you extra rights? So much, that you could try to order Red Elves around. Why was Foxy suddenly on the side of Guillermo?


    ¡°You don''t have jurisdiction over Red Elves, and you know it! You have no jurisdiction outside of the Domain! The Clan Laws are clear: every one that attacks a Clan will die. Slowly! Revenge is our right! Got out of my way! Prof, get off of me!¡±


    Foxy gesticulated a bit, and threw a bit of powder into the air ¨C Prof haven''t seen this spell in all the time he spent with her. Mostly she just used plants. Oh, Wait! That was Floramancy, now she was probably using Dream Magic, her primary school. His suspicion was proven right when Shinead fell asleep in short order. Even Prof was caught in the spell''s wake, he had to yawn and work very hard not to fall asleep too.


    ¡°So, the hothead out of the way, it¡¯s your turn, Guillermo. Even if you were on official business, attacking the Swift Arrow Clan, was a crime and for that, you will be judged filth."


    And now Foxy acted like she was a traveling Sheriff or Marshall or something along that line. Prof got off Shinead and retreated to Mini and Sharpclaw. He covertly signed to them to be ready when the situation got out of hand. Not that it was necessary, Mini already had her crossbow in her hand, and the Kobold was hiding behind their last mule. Probably getting ready to stealth away and assassinate someone.


    ¡°Actually, no, Little Sister." Guillermo grinned "First, I myself did not harm anyone in that Clan, that was all done by the Humans. In fact, the Clan broke the law by harming one of my subordinates when he tried to deliver a missive and ask for an artifact. That was a refusal of an official order and an attack on another Elf."


    ¡°But¡­ The Law¡­¡±


    ¡°Look, actually I have 311% in [Law: Elven], you can trust me.¡±


    Fantastic, they had to pursue a lawyer. Just for that, Prof considered helping Shinead; lawyers were evil after all. If he were allowed to talk, Prof was sure he would be able to wiggle out of the situation.


    ¡°Even IF we assume, you were within your rights, that leaves us with the need for you to prove, you are under official orders. That badge is a good start, but I need to investigate further. What are you doing here, to begin with?"


    ¡°We are, of course, working for the Greater Good of all Elvenkind, as it is proper!" said Guillermo, grinning. "You see, we are boxed in by the Monkeys, the Greenskins, and the Lizards. Fighting on three fronts can''t be sustained in the long run! We need to act!"


    Prof was not sure, if the Grey Elf thought he and Mini couldn¡¯t hear them or if he just didn¡¯t care. Prof started to have a very bad feeling about the whole situation.


    Just as the dialogue was getting interesting, Guillermo took Foxy to the side and they started to whisper. Prof couldn''t hear them anymore, but judging by Mini''s attentive stance, she probably employed a bit of her blood reserves to enhance her hearing. A few minutes later, she swore quietly and started to dress quickly.


    In the meanwhile, Prof observed the other party closely. The Grey Elves were obviously confident and were talking to each other in hushed voices. The Humans, on the other hand, were clearly nervous, Prof could have sworn they were warier of their Elven bosses, than of Prof''s friends. They huddled together, weapons in hand and at the ready.


    What was going on?


    When Mini got back from dressing she actually managed to accidentally get practical clothes on, consisting of purple leather trousers and a stitched blouse with flower motifs. If Prof remembered correctly, that blouse was one of Mini¡¯s better pieces with quite a few enchantments. As Mini dressed, the enemy Elves also started to get ready, discarding the few packs they had on their person and putting their hands on their weapons.


    ¡°Prof, get ready. This will go to shit, fast" Prof hasn''t seen Mini so serious all their time together "Sharpclaw, you too. Get the black one."


    ¡°Yesssss, Missssusss. Elf will bleed!¡± With that, the Kobold faded into the background. Prof was a little bit nervous: they were only three of them (five, counting Binky and Foxy) against ten probably much higher Level enemies. One of them almost killed Shinead not too long ago!


    Thinking about it, the whole chase was a colossally bad idea from the very beginning. A party of five low-Level individuals chasing a band of a hundred or so into one of the most dangerous territories of Arkadia?! What was he thinking?


    Too late to run away¡­


    ¡°KILL THE ELVES! FOR HUMANITY!!!" Mini shouted, took aim, and fired both bolts.

 Interlude 2: A Little Wolf from Heye, Part 1

    In the year 36.757 of the Elven Unity, a little half-blood was born in a small village in the Wolfbrown territories.


    Her mother was a Yellow Elf adventurer, and her father was a local Wolfbrown hunter. How and why such a strange couple came together, the newly born Elf of course did not know at the time and for long years later. Such an alliance between two Elven Races was not common but not unheard of either ¨C Elves were very keen on keeping their bloodlines clean. Being a half-blood Elf was better than being a cur, or Grey Elf ¨C a mix of an Elf and some lower species ¨C but not by much.


    This the little wolf learned early on.


    Her acceptance wasn''t helped by the fact either, that her mother left as soon as she was able to, leaving some money for her father to "give her an education". Her father, not a wealthy person himself, did have the grace not to spend the money (that would have been technically illegal since the money was the little half-blood''s, not his) and took care of her to the best of his abilities.


    For around a year.


    Not much after her first birthday, her father found a new mate and she became superfluous. At least her father cared enough to find her a foster parent, as it happened, an old White Elf, who just relocated from the Estate of Haye in Forestdeep to enjoy his retirement. Or was forced out by his replacement, the little wolf was never able to find out. Not that she investigated hard. There are a few things you should leave buried, or else they will bite you like a rabid ghoul.


    Her foster parent taught her how to be a proper Elf. And, because he was from Forestdeep, a lot of other things too. How to fight, to survive, why it was important to be proud and always stand up for her rights, how to lay low and attack, when there are no witnesses, how to have loyalty to only the Estate (or in her case, the Domain) but not to others, how to look out for Number One (that is, herself) and when to discard ideology and loyalty (whenever it was convenient or brought more problems than benefits).


    Being a shunned half-blood in an almost pure Wolfbrown community and with her foster parent being who he was, it was no wonder, that she got herself into fights as soon as she could walk. Having been taught how to fight early on, she actually managed to win more fights than she lost. If and when she lost a fight, she refused to let go or back down ¨C at least for long. Revenge was sometimes tastier if served cold, or so her foster parent taught her.


    For reacting to the slightest provocation and biting even when beaten down, she earned the nickname ¡°The Foxy¡± (in Bergian: the rabid person) as soon as she turned ten. Her foster parent found it hilarious since he called her Fokssi (in Bergian: Little Wolf) for years already.


    As the years went by, she calmed down somewhat, but with puberty on the way, she had to face another issue. She realized that she liked girls. That in itself wasn''t an insurmountable problem in Elven society, as long as the bloodline continued, everyone turned a blind eye to what other people did discreetly behind closed doors.


    The real problem was twofold. First, as a half-blood, continuing her tainted bloodline was not encouraged, and secondly, because of her upbringing, she was basically incapable of doing things discreetly. Her foster parent just shrugged. In Forestdeep you could do everything with and to everybody and everything if you were strong enough. Of course, she could have left the Domain, but she was a proud Elf, no matter what, and it was her right to be who she was.


    More fights followed.


    More lessons followed. It was hammered home, that her period of grace would end soon with receiving her Character Parchment and being considered an adult, she would not be able to get away with harming other Elves. Being a rabid troublemaker was well and good, but would earn her a banishment in short order. Or an unmarked grave.


    She had to reign in her impulses and learn how to disguise her feelings and intentions.


    In this regard, she was not all that successful, so much so that when she finally received her Character Parchment, it stated her Emotional Stability was a mere 6. Thankfully, her foster parent was a scholar in the field of how the System worked and was able to provide her with a few secrets. Technically, each Stat could have been raised or lowered by one point only, save for the three free points. This little tidbit was mostly known in most places, but there was another way to get around the system.


    Of course, her foster parent shared the secrets with her, but made sure, she did not remember, HOW her Character Parchment was finalized ¨C being a Level 35 and having more than 400% in [Magic: Mental] helped him in that regard. After all, no sane person would entrust important secrets to sixteen-year-old brats.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    In order to get rid of some of her more serious flaws ¨C for example being Rabid, or having multiple Mental Issues on a high level ¨C she had to accept a few other flaws, she regarded as lesser problems. She never tried alcohol and wasn''t planning on drinking anytime (she was told a few stories where high-Level people got killed because they weren''t cautious and got drunk at the wrong time), so selecting Antialcoholic twice wasn¡¯t a problem.


    Even so, she could only lower Rabid to Impatient and she still was Paranoid. That she didn''t mind much, it was not paranoia if there actually were folks after her. In that case, it was only prudence.


    Most of her Chi-powers she had to buy with having Low Life Expectancy. That she also didn''t mind much, even so, she would live for two hundred years or so. One of her foster parent''s favorite sayings was "Live fast, not long!"


    He was past six hundred, so was probably right.


    As for her Skills, the System recommended [Herbology], [Housekeeping], [Observe], and [Intimidation]. She was surprised that [Hand-to-Hand Combat] or other such Skill were not recommended, she was after all fighting more than keeping their house in order or picking herbs. They have planned for her future career already, so changing [Housekeeping] and [Intimidation] to [Chi: Battle] and [Magic: Dream] was done in quick order.


    The last thing she did was to discard her former name. No one called her by her birth name, to begin with, and keeping her old family''s name was out of the question. They did nothing for her all her life, so why cling to some useless collection of sounds?


    And so Foxy Delahaye was born.


    Luckily for her, her foster parent had some friends in certain places who still owed him some favors, so he arranged a job interview for her even before she got her Character Parchment. His reasoning was that with her Skill-set, behavior, attitude, and approach, working for a government agency was probably for the best. Maybe she could make herself useful.


    The office in question was the All-Elven Investigation Bureau for Internal Insurances'' Office for Extra-Arkadian Infiltrations, Intrusions, Influences, Incidents, and Inklings. Of course, the Elven name had the usual secondary and tertiary meanings that a translation could never capture. In day-to-day operations, everyone called the Office and the Agents Little Sisters anyway.


    For the next four years, she was trained and taught for her time as a solo agent.


    She learned, that the Heavenly Game Master allowed Extra-Arkadians to come to his world, but for what purpose, no one knew exactly. The Travellers, as they were called, came in four categories: Crafters, Heroes, and Utter Morons. And there was "Other" for those that could not be put into any of the others. It was also speculated that a few arrived as Dungeons, but with no possibility to converse with the murder holes, the theory was unproven.


    The first category was actually welcomed, they were very eager to pursue their chosen craft and were delighted by all the possibilities. They brought new ideas and techniques with them and were dedicated to bettering themselves and their products. In fact, they were so much welcomed, that every country worth it''s salt tried to find them early on and bind them to themselves. Sometimes literally. On the other hand, capturing or dispatching Crafter Travellers of your enemy was high on the priority list.


    After all, no one wanted to risk that someone invented that famous mythical magical weapon the Travellers always talked about. ¡°Newk¡± they called it. ¡°Newk¡± this, ¡°newk¡± that, ¡°newk¡± the site from orbit.


    A ¡°newk¡± in the wrong hands (Greenskins, Lizard, Humans, so technically everyone save the Elves) would be bad, no?


    The Heroes were a mixed lot, but useful in some cases, most having interesting Perks ¨C called Cheat Powers for some reason by the Travellers ¨C that made them formidable warriors. However, most had a compulsion to ¡°save the world¡± or bring dangerous new ideas to Arkadia. Well, and not a few had collected negative Perks like Ideological Crusader, Delusion, Bombastic, Pompous, Irresponsible, Loudmouth, Idealist just to list a few.


    Having not the faintest idea how Arkadia worked, most managed to get killed in short order (some with certain help from organizations like the Little Sisters) but those who survived became famous warlords, founders of countries or organizations, and such.


    The policy was to observe them closely, and if they were deemed dangerous, dispatch them with utmost prejudice.


    The last category was reserved for the truly useless. They knew nothing about Arkadia, the languages, the customs, the laws, or anything, really. They behaved themselves like they were in some sick game, where it was all right to steal, plunder, ignore the Locals and create as much bloodshed as possible. Most were even found wandering around naked! (Foxy was taught, that being naked in Human society was for some reason frowned upon. Probably because they were ugly, hairy, and threw shit around).


    There was a kill-on-sight policy in effect for those.


    Not that organizations needed to do much, most got themselves killed in the first days because of¡­ utter stupidity.

 Interlude 2: A Little Wolf from Heye, Part 2

    In the next four years, Foxy was taught about the homeworld of the Travellers ¨C a marvelous world with the flat and unimaginative name of Dirt, Soil, Turf, Loam, Ground, Land, or Earth, the translation was inconclusive, in Elvish, it was called Flatsoundingworld ¨C as far as the Office was able to gather information. What was known pointed to a highly evolved world that was decadent and lazy. No one walked there anymore but used magical carriages for even the shortest distances flew in metal airships to the other side of the world in only a few hours and worshiped a magical "net" or "web" (the translation was inconclusive) where one could do everything without leaving the house.


    The Travellers were even proud that everyone had a cell on their own!


    Truly decadent, lazy, stupid, and oppressive. No wonder, everyone wanted to come to Arkadia!


    She was also taught about behaviors to look out for or how she could spot inconsistencies in Character Parchments and stories.


    It was actually quite easy: the more someone behaved like he grew up in a cave without contact with other people, the more likely he was a Traveller.


    She was provided with a historical account of incidents ¨C and learned her own mother was a Traveller. Officially she was classified as a Hero, but Foxy was certain, she belonged to the Utter Morons in truth. Reading her Character Parchment and her exploits, Foxy got sick. Her mother was a Pervert, there was no question about it!


    She fornicated with everyone and everything she could seduce, the furrier or exotic, the better. One time she even tried to make a harem for herself, but the whole thing blew up in her face. Her end was fitting: a few years after leaving Foxy she died while trying out an Ogre.


    Foxy was glad, she changed her name and had nothing to do anymore with that creature.


    Her lessons also included a heavy emphasis on [Investigation], [Interrogation], and [Acting]. Combined with her [Observe] she learned how to look for clues or get out the truth of suspects ¨C while not being obvious that she worked for the Office or the Bureau.


    Her [Magic: Dream] also helped with the investigation. Maybe [Magic: Mental] would have been more fitting, but dream magic was less conspicuous and actually worked better in the field Foxy had to use it. If there was something the mark physically could not speak about or describe, no mental magic was going to make him do it.


    Of course, both the Office and the Bureau had agents with [Magic: Mental] ¨C someone had to keep the captured Travellers in line.


    Combined with the lessons from her foster parent, the education she received made her quite proficient in around a dozen scientific Skills. They needed to be able to ask the right questions and know what to look out for.


    The rest of her time was spent on becoming even more proficient in fighting. Travelers (and criminals, which he would have to deal with too as an Internal Insurances Agent) were or could be extremely dangerous, after all!


    Four years later she reached Level 6 and was assigned as a trainee to an experienced agent. Their first few missions were to trace smugglers and such. Even in these early missions, Foxy displayed a knack for following through no matter what ¨C for her tenacity, she earned the nickname "The Rabid" before she was twenty-two. Her name had the meaning "Rabid Person" the nickname was something like an inside joke in the Office.


    She was soon assigned to solo missions ¨C easy ones at first, like checking on the Crafters under Elven control, tracking and auditing a few known Heroes, or some work for the Bureau.


    At the age of twenty-five and at Level 13, she was an accomplished solo agent with a good name. Her nickname struck and was widely known in the official channels. The origins of the nickname weren''t known for most but gained life on their own. Foxy was known to complete the mission no matter what, even disregarding inconveniences for local Princes or damage to property. It was understood that it was easier to help her than risk her biting the hand that withholds help. The Domain came first for her in every case.


    At the age of thirty, reaching Level 17, she took a short sabbatical and enlisted in the High King''s Academy for Magical and Scientific Studies. Her goal was to broaden her magical horizons, the main focus being [Magic: Floramancy], but also auxiliary studies in [Magic: Mental], [Magic: Illusion], and [Magic: Space and Time]. She also enlisted in a workgroup for Chi-exercises, to rise her [Chi: Mind], [Chi: Modification], and [Chi: Kinesis].


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    While at the Academy, she met her first girlfriend after long years of being alone. Actually, the Silver Elf was who picked her up in a lecture about [Dead Tongue: Old Elven]. Why Foxy even selected that lecture, she wasn''t exactly sure, probably to be able to read and understand old magical and mundane texts. Maybe.


    Being picked up, Foxy regarded as absolutely brazen and shocking. True, her new girlfriend was a Silver Elf, and since the whole race consisted of only females, the rules and customs were more forgiving in their regard. Gealach, as she was named, came from a town in the Silver territories, her family running a famous still for Moon Whiskey, and was studying [Alchemy] and [Herbology] in the Academy.


    For the next two years, they were living together in a small apartment with the understanding that they would move together back to the Silver territories after their studies were completed. However, Foxy was further along in her studies and had to go back to the Office hunting criminals and Travellers, but they promised each other to stay in contact, and when Gealach finished, they would move in together again.


    At thirty-four, at Level 20, as Foxy did one of her infrequent visits to the Academy ¨C she did visit as much as she could, but her work meant that sometimes there were several months between visits ¨C she found her girlfriend dead. Technically, it was regarded as an accident ¨C the vice-chancellor''s son was horse-racing in the park next to the Academy, and while overtaking a wagon he forced the driver to swerve to the side.


    Where a little girl was picking flowers.


    Gealach, in an act of sacrificial impulse, was able to push the little girl out of the way but was run over by the wagon in turn.


    It was regarded as an accident since clearly, no one was responsible, the vice-chancellor''s son the least, and no one was taken to account.


    Foxy was furious. Her girlfriend was clearly killed because of the irresponsibility of an entitled twat, and no one was going to do anything about it?!


    Well, Foxy was a solo agent for Internal Insurances, and as such had a few helpful rights. Like starting an investigation even if the local prince, militia, or vice-chancellor did not find it necessary. Or persecute criminals on her own. And she did. Investigate and persecute, that is.


    It wasn''t much of an investigation, everyone knew the vice-chancellor''s son drank and did barely legal (and illegal) drugs. So she was able to find evidence within a day that the criminal filth in question was so high on stuff that he was basically flying and so drunk that it was a wonder he was able to lay straight. While horse-racing in a public park.


    Both were against the Law and Customs so that filth had caused the accident.


    Being a good agent, Foxy informed the relevant authorities about her findings and verdict and set out to dispense justice. Justice, not revenge! Persecuting criminal filth was justice, after all.


    Causing another Elf¡¯s death came with two possible punishments: either the culprit left the Domain and brought shame to his family. Or death. The shivering filth of a coward chose¡­ Neither.


    Instead, he tried to bribe Foxy, and when that was not successful, he threatened Foxy with his father''s power. The little idiot even admitted that the accident was swept under the rug by his father. When Foxy flashed her government-issued recording crystal, he finally chose his punishment by attacking her. Levels, Skills, and Perks weren''t necessarily everything on Arkadia, but still, a Level 4 nobody with primary Skills in [Party], [Sex], [Riding], and [Convincing] was no serious threat for a Level 20 solo agent of Internal Insurances.


    Leaving the cadaver to be collected by the cleaning lady, she marched up to the vice-chancellor and confronted him about his crimes. Hiding a crime and abiding filth was also a crime in the Domain, punishable with a hefty fine (and ruined reputation) or banishment. The filth that was the ex-vice-chancellor chose neither, tried to bribe or cow her into submission, and when that angle didn''t work, he let his bodyguard attack her. They both forgot, that Foxy was not only an accomplished hand-to-hand fighter, but she was also a master in [Magic: Dream], however.


    Casting a Sleep spell on the bodyguard was a matter of seconds, and gutting the other filth didn''t take long either. Unfortunately for her, the bodyguard filth was higher Level and had a few good Perks for different magic resistances ¨C and probably a few magical trinkets too. The ensuing sharp fight left two dead filth and a dying agent of Internal Insurances in its wake.


    The Rabid has struck again. For the Domain!


    Foxy was content even dying ¨C there was nothing left for her in the Domain but the Domain itself.


    The dying agent was found by the relevant authorities, who tried to save or at least stabilize her, but it was already too late.


    And so Foxy Delahaye died.

 Interlude 2: A Little Wolf from Heye, Part 3

    Being a high-Level agent with good standing meant that the Bureau and the Office were not prepared to lose an important asset.


    Reviving fallen was possible on Arkadia, but the cost was heavy for the one doing the casting and for the revived person both. On one side was an investment of expensive components for the spell, on the other side, losing Levels ¨C for the ritual the Elves practiced it was fifteen Levels. Allegedly there were rituals with fewer or more lost Levels, but fifteen was the number the Elves had to work with.


    And so Foxy Delahaye was revived.


    Not that she was overly grateful for it.


    Around sixteen years of working, training and leveling went out of the window. A few thousand Skill Point gone in an instant ¨C for her at least, the ritual took a few days to complete ¨C her balanced Skills messed up into a chaotic pile. [Herbology], which she hadn''t raised for a long time because it was mostly useless for her, stayed at 160%, but the more important [Acting] went down from 243% to a mere 90%. [Investigation] from almost 300% to 150%, [Interrogation] from 207% to 80%. And so forth.


    From a highly skilled solo agent, she was back to a mere trainee, no, actually an apprentice. Skill-wise, at least, officially she was still regarded as a solo agent.


    But, with so low Skills, how could she do fieldwork on her own?


    She was promised further training and a longer break to get her bearings in order again. The Academy decided that although she acted within her rights as an Internal Insurances agent, and the vice-chancellor was indeed filth, she was asked not to enlist ever again. Her title as an adept was not revoked, but in the roster, she was considered to be on "extended research leave". She actually didn''t care that much, if she needed academic challenges, there were still two universities in the Domain, although of lesser standing.


    Since she didn¡¯t drink, a lot of academic challenges were wasted on her anyways.


    The next few months she spent getting used to her lower Skills, less Mana and less Chi. Most problematic was her magic. Previously, her fighting style depended in parts on [Magic: Floramancy]: bind her enemy with roots, use the greenery as an early warning system, and let the botany hide her. With only 60% instead of almost 200% in the Skill, two-thirds of her Spells fizzled. She had to retrain herself to not only use silent verbal short-form but the normal loud full chanting, gestures, and material components too.


    Again.


    She was over that phase ten Levels ago, or so.


    If the Skill was high enough, one could do with only silent verbal short-form, but it was much, much harder.


    Even so, around half of her spells fizzled.


    Her training regime was cut short, however. The Oracle from Dragon''s Womb, who worked with the Little Sisters, sent an alert that a new Traveller arrived to the East, right at the borders of the Domain. With no other solo agents available for immediate deployment, Foxy was asked to take on the mission. She was an experienced agent after all, although of a ridiculously low Level.


    Packing up her gear was fast, she had enough experience with immediate deployments in the last decade and a half, but even making haste, reaching the borderlands took more than two weeks. Finding a person in more than twenty thousand square kilometers ¨C that was the closest the Oracle could manage ¨C looked impossible at first glance, but Foxy had two things working for her. First, her experience of a long time in spotting Travellers and filth.


    And secondly, a magical compass.


    It wasn''t the most precise when searching for an unknown person, but at least it gave a rough direction. More or less. If the person she was searching for was not farther away than a hundred kilometers or nearer than about a dozen. Because of the weakness of the compass, a searching plan was implemented a long time ago: head to the center of the indicated region and proceed in a spiral outward till the compass gave a return. Head into the indicated direction, and as soon as the minimal distance was reached, try to triangulate the narrower area. Enter the area and use your training to find the right person.


    As it turned out, the new Traveller arrived on Arkadia near the very limit of the region around where her search pattern led Foxy the latest. It took her almost two weeks to get a rough fix and she still needed to double back. Following the compass for a few days, she realized that her mark was on the move, luckily in her direction. Broadly speaking.


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    Not far away from the Domain¡¯s border, she lost the return from the compass, meaning, she was near. With the territory of a Red Clan to her left (if the Traveller entered there, Foxy¡¯s job was done), she continued to the right ¨C or West ¨C to complete the next phase of the search pattern.


    Having lost Skill Points in a few crucial Skill, she was only saved from blindly wandering into a Dire Bear by her high Perception and Good Nose ¨C and even so it was a close call. She had only time enough to throw her packs on the ground and instantly she had to defend herself. Her Sleep spell was mostly resisted by the Bear, only slowing it down a bit, but that was enough for Foxy to at least survive.


    The victory was, however not in the cards, she knew. It took all her Skill in [Acrobatics] to avoid the bear ¨C everyone knew, [Acrobatics] was actually better than [Evade], [Parry], or [Block], since it didn''t have such a narrow focus and was useable outside of combat too. It was so obvious, you didn''t need to read a Rulebook! The floramantic spells she managed to cast did nothing to reign in her opponent.


    She was saved by a Monkey, of all things. He burst out of the bushes and started to hack away at the bear with wild abandon. He was a quite good fighter, Foxy estimated him to be around Level 4 or 5, maybe even Level 6, but she couldn''t spare the time to observe him more closely. In short order, he blinded one of the bear''s eyes but was hit himself by a strong swipe.


    So much for the help, Foxy thought. Even a Level 6 would probably not survive such a hit.


    However, she was surprised, as the Monkey¡­ no, she decided to call him Human, staggered back into the clearing. He must have survived by the hair of his teeth and drunk a potion already.


    ¡°I need some potions to continue!¡± He shouted in Bergian. Probably some adventurer or mercenary, then.


    Fortunately Foxy had quite a collection of potions, it was part of her field kit, supplied by the Office. The better ones she kept in her office-issued Bag of Holding (but she was not prepared to flaunt it to a stranger), so she directed the Human to her bags, left in the bushes.


    A short time later the Human was back in the fight and kept pummelling the bear''s head. It was a strange way to fight, concentrating only on the most protected part of the bear while disregarding obvious openings for other parts. Strange it was, but not unheard of. She knew of a few individuals who always went for the head, hoping for a deliberating Critical Hit, but if the Perks were not there to bolster that kind of fighting, it was not worth the effort.


    The Human and the Bear started to rotate around each other, while Foxy frantically tried to cast Spell after Spell. Most fizzled. It was despairing. Less than a year ago she would have defeated the bear without much problem on her own ¨C she could name around a dozen ways to do it ¨C and now she needed the help of a Human to even survive!


    She checked the bear to know how far victory still was.


    ¡°Fifty more HP!" she exclaimed. It was starting to look good ¨C fifty HP she probably could deal with on her own, and with the Human warrior to occupy the bear, it was almost easy.


    The Human went flying again. And came back! What tenacity!


    Finally, they were able to kill the beast.


    Foxy finally had the time to check on her savior. The young Human wore a good set of leather armor ¨C probably this is why he survived ¨C and rich clothes. Both were of an unfamiliar style, definitely not Elven or Bergian. Probably not Garulian or Halitchian either. Maybe Forestian, they had so many styles and traditions. Strange nevertheless. She observed the Human to get a feel for his Stats and Level. She was immediately surprised: the Human was only Level 3, with quite an interesting spread of Stats!


    An unnatural spread to say the least.


    As an agent for the Office, she had the right and the means to check other people¡¯s Character Parchment, as long it was done inside the Domain, or she suspected a Traveller. Well, they were inside the Domain, and Foxy did have a suspicion.


    Taking a look, she was almost certain, she met her mark. Very high fighting Skills for the Level, with a good selection of Perks, and a few good utility Skills ([Speech: Bergian] and [Etiquette: Bergian] included), but an utter disregard for Skill probably everyone on Arkadia had in the range of 60-100%. Maybe he had just grown up sheltered ¨C or in a cave ¨C but that was still a flag raised in her experience. He definitely wasn''t an Utter Moron, and with those Skills no Crafter either. For a Hero he missed the overpowered "Cheat Powers" and the other Perks most Heroes had. And looked too intelligent.


    ¡°Ma''am, my name is Ferenc Hegyesi, but everyone calls me Prof. Who you may be?" At least he was polite, so definitely not an Utter Moron. The name sounded a bit like a Bergian one but combined with his strange clothing that meant nothing.


    It was time to start the investigation in earnest.

 Interlude 2: A Little Wolf from Heye, Part 4

    First thing first, Foxy introduced herself. And laid some traps.


    Introducing herself as an Adept at the High King¡¯s Academy was technically true, she was considered as such, and let him know, she felt she owed him thanks. Of course, every last Human would be horrified by that, owing a favor from an Elf was considered equal to a slow and painful death.


    The Human didn¡¯t react in the slightest, so he was most probably not a local.


    Probably not an Utter Moron either, they always tried to "Finish the Quest" or "Get to Follow-Up Quest" and demanded payment or EXP. Well, there was no Quest System on Arkadia, and no one could hand out EXP.


    The Human dodged that arrow too. He even thought to pay Foxy for the potions he drank! Foxy stuck to the script and asked again to confirm. Sometimes the Utter Morons were just slow. Or the Heroes were greedy. Only the most stupid Humans on Arkadia would demand payment from an Elf ¨C and those never left children behind to propagate stupidity. The Travellers even had a term for that, named after a famous sage. Dear Friend, or such, the translation was unconfirmed.


    The next question established that the Human had no idea about loot contracts, one of the most basic things every last adventurer or mercenary knew by heart from the very first day. She was almost completely sure she stumbled on her mark, but to confirm, she asked directly. The Human played stupid for a bit but finally relented.


    Yes, indeed, he was the Traveller she was looking for!


    It was a bad idea to let the Traveller know, she was an agent for the Office ¨C there were ¡°incidents¡± early when the Office was established ¨C so she stuck with her researcher persona. Every agent had one, most using a researcher too. Most Travellers were fascinated by science, and it was proven, they were more ready to help in scientific research. Other agents used an ¡°oblivious bimbo¡± persona. [Acting] was a very useful Skill to have.


    Foxy, in order to gauge his reactions, showed him how to exchange Character Parchments ¨C and learned a lot from doing so. As with most Travellers, he was overwhelmed by the long list of Skills and didn''t realize, what certain Skills she had on certain levels meant. He wasn''t able to connect the dots. Why would an adept on the Academy have so high investigating Skills, that were more appropriate for an investigator?


    He clearly didn¡¯t know, how Arkadia worked.


    He was still much better than a lot of others, spreading his Skill Points with at least minimal thought. It could have been worse. There were records of an utter moron, who managed to pump his [Blunt Weapons] to almost 300% on Level 1, collect or select a lot of Perks that made him smash his opponents with utmost force. But his other Skills were below 10% - some even going into negative, which was almost unheard of ¨C and with an Intelligence and Charisma of 1, he was just an ugly imbecile. The only word he could utter was SMASH!


    That was the only thing he was useful for: his handler pointed him at enemies who were in need to be SMASHed. What a waste.


    This Traveller was much more intelligent and viable. He even started to dress the Dire Bear instead of stomping around shouting "Autoloot!" at top of his lungs. Foxy has previously met such a Traveller ¨C and dispatched him shortly later.


    Foxy was curious, about how the Human planned to preserve the meat for later selling, and he came up with pre-frying it. Smoking or salting it would have been a better idea, but here it became obvious to the Traveller that he didn''t have a high enough Skill to build a smoking shack, and haven''t brought enough salt. Or any.


    More problematic was, that the Traveller spotted her Office-issued Bag of Holding. Foxy was already aware that there was no magic in the boring-named world, where most of the Travellers came from, so she wasn''t exactly hiding her stuff. That her mark spotted it so easily meant that he really wasn''t a complete idiot. Of course, Foxy wasn''t one either, so didn''t confess to the real properties of the bag. Most of her tools were kept there and taking them out was too dangerous in front of an observant mark.


    The bag still had enough room to pack twelve portions of premium meat into it. She was a bit surprised that even after a month on Arkadia it was not clear to the Traveller, how large a portion of meat was. As far as she knew, it was a standard measure everywhere on Arkadia.


    Their cooking spree went as it was expected: most of the meat was ruined, and what was not, lost quite in quality. No one started cooking up a Dire Bear with only 72% in [Cooking] ¨C around 150% was the least if one wanted to preserve the quality, more if extra effects were desired. In a well-equipped kitchen, out in the woods, one needed an even higher Skill.


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    But hey, he at least tried.


    Foxy got the feeling, the new Traveller had gotten some information about how Arkadia worked, but it was probably only a summary, without clear examples and descriptions. It was often discussed in the Office that maybe they should provide the Travellers with a Rulebook, written by the best authority in the System. Actually, such Rulebooks did exist but were mostly kept by researchers. Everyone else had only shorter, less exhaustive versions, but combined with what everyone knew it was probably still better than what the Traveller had access to.


    For the rest of the day, Foxy went through the list of questions every Little Sister knew by heart. It was standardized a long time ago to get a baseline of the Traveller in question, what he remembered from his previous home, who he was and how far he was willing to cooperate. First, she asked for an essay to determine the Traveller''s ability to recreate or describe things from Turf (or Dirt, or whatever his world was called in their native tongue), and next, she asked pointed yes-or-no questions.


    She already ruled out Utter Moron and Crafter, so the only question was if the Traveller fell into Hero or the broad category of "Other". That was the hardest category to pinpoint and needed the most investigation. Tourists were mostly harmless, Entrepreneurs needed constant surveillance (once such a Traveller successfully upset the markets in the whole of Fenria), and Anti-Heroes and Villains on the other hand required quick dispatching.


    No one needed a crazy person trying to conquer the world. Arkadia had enough of them on its own.


    The last part of the initial investigation was to apply some dream magic. It was proven that dreams were more honest, and if the spells were applied shortly after a thorough questioning, some answers still lingered in the subconscious. Unfortunately, her Skill was quite low after losing so many Levels, so she could do only a cursory check while her mark slept.


    Finishing the check and reviewing the interrogation, she was almost certain, the Traveller was no Hero. There was no evidence that he had any designs on "Saving the World" or "Free the Oppressed" or any other common idiocy heroes had (and he was missing the tell-tale Perks too), and he was most certainly no Anti-Hero or Villain either. He was too helpful for that.


    He was obsessed with money and easy life and did want to see as many sights as possible, so he was either a Tourist or an Entrepreneur. Or maybe a Pervert. Foxy did hate those. Or a few other possibilities in ¡°Other¡±. She needed to investigate further.


    The next morning the Traveller asked her to identify a few magical items he found. Good. She did like identifying items, it was one of her favorite pastimes while in training. Not equipping unknown magical thingies did rid her of any last remaining suspicions the Traveller was an Utter Moron. Who would do that? What if that shiny warhammer was a cursed object from eons past?


    The three trinkets weren¡¯t much, only base-level stuff one could find in most larger cities with a little bit of searching. But, they were magical items, and useful nonetheless.


    The next few days went by with further investigation.


    The best way was to tell him about Arkadia and its System and gauge his reactions. A lot could be learned from questions and reflexive interjections. He was obviously fascinated by how the System worked, about all the races and species on Arkadia, and some sights Foxy recommended. He was not really interested in how the Fenrian (or Elven) economy worked, he even told her, he had no intention whatsoever to enter into commerce ¨C only to sell his loot.


    When Foxy talked about how Humans could procreate with other species, he wasn¡¯t that much interested either ¨C and got visibly sick when Centaurs were mentioned. Not that Foxy ever saw one herself, they lived on Sfingia in the South, across the sea.


    She was already quite sure, the Human was just a tourist, but something still bugged her about the whole situation. He was waiting for a female friend, who had some business to attend to somewhere in the area. However, no Human would be so stupid as to "attend to some business" right next to a Red Clan Territory. That either pointed to criminal activities or another Traveller. In both cases, it was Foxy''s duty to investigate.


    Of course, if her current mark was caught up in criminal activities or other Travellers, he was no simple Tourist after all! The worst that could happen was another Hero¡¯s Party! The last one was a couple of centuries ago, but the carnage that party brought could be felt for decades. If another Hero¡¯s Party was in the making, Foxy had to act fast and decidedly.


    One day the Human came back from another run in the dungeon and informed her, that his ladyfriend was back.


    From the Clan Territory.


    Damn. Travelers were sooooo stupid!

 Interlude 2: A Little Wolf from Heye, Part 5

    ?From a clan territory?!? Do you know who has clan territories around here?!? And what are they famous for?!? Who managed to fuck you over like that?¡±


    Foxy didn¡¯t need to use [Acting] to act shocked. Well, probably her Skill was too low to mitigate the shock. Maybe.


    At least she would know if there was a criminal undercurrent at play or a Hero''s Party in the making. But, no, it transpired, that his friend was a Red Elf. As in a member of the race that hated Humans the most and mostly didn¡¯t degrade themselves to even talk to a Human. At least more than a few sentences before an accident happened.


    If he befriended a Red Elf, that raised a few flags. Could he be a Pervert after all, out to build a harem? Foxy started a quick interrogation, but it was cut short by the arrival of the Red in question.


    ¡°Foxy Delahay a nevem. Benned kit tisztelhetek, Kishugom? ¡±


    Foxy introduced herself and let the other Elf know, she was a Little Sister. She already established that the Traveller did not speak Elven, and did not know the Elven hand-signs either. Holding her head and hands in a specific pattern, she informed the Red that she was there in an official capacity, and her counterpart should observe caution and discretion.


    ¡°The Rabid?" The Red Elf answered, signaling with some gestures that she would obey. Foxy was satisfied that the young Red was already familiar with her and what she represented. Red Elves were notoriously independent, but even they acknowledged the rights of the Bureau and the Office.


    The Bureau and the Reds were both working for the Greater Good of all Elvenkind, after all.


    As it transpired, the Clan was attacked and wiped out sometime earlier. That was concerning, to say the least. No one was stupid enough to attack a Red Clan, and to be able to wipe it out, it needed overwhelming force. And possibly surprise and a healthy dose of luck.


    Be that as it may, it was Foxy¡¯s duty to investigate everything that could possibly endanger the Domain.


    First, she listened to the theory-crafting of the two. It went as was expected from a Traveller, who knew basically nothing of Arkadia (and exactly nothing about the Domain ¨C his Skills proved it, Foxy checked) and a young, inexperienced grunt (she was only Level 5, after all. Foxy checked).


    Badly, that is.


    They came up with some convoluted conspiracy theory, where some shady Yellow Elf tried to sabotage an alliance between the Reds, Greens, and Blues. Just because of¡­ reasons. Foxy had to stifle a laugh. The little bumpkin from the borderlands obviously had no idea, how higher politics in the Domain worked. Open attacks on other Elves ¨C not to speak about a whole Clan! - was unthinkable, if there was disagreement or open sabotage, it was done with political maneuvering, posturing, and trading of favors.


    Foxy was only an agent for the Bureau and the Office but had seen, what the people in power did. Openly attacking others was not how it was done. Contracting outsiders, filth, or Grey Elves for doing the dirty work was not unheard of, but exceedingly rare and done only in the most extreme cases. No one would do such a thing to sabotage a little alliance.


    It was more probable, that some filth or scorned Grey Elf executed a revenge plan. However, that still left the question open, how they were able to wipe out a Red Clan. The Swift Arrow Clan was small and unassuming, but they still could have fielded a sizeable force. That the attackers were able to surprise the Clan on its own turf, meant that the Clan was¡­ not of the highest quality.


    Of course, Foxy hasn''t told that to the Red Elf.


    She did tell her, that she probably could save her little Clan. Having only one clan member wouldn''t make it a larger joke than it already was. But, maybe, with a Clan that owes him a blood debt, Foxy could pawn off the Traveller to her. She wasn''t sure exactly, in what category the Human fell yet, but it was a good idea to have a Red Elf at the ready if the Traveller started to make waves.


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    Accidents happen all the time, after all.


    And then, the Traveller even lent her a helping hand! Giving the Clan a "contract" and binding himself to it as a henchman. Travelers were really stupid! Oh, oh, wait! Those puppy eyes! No, it was not possible, even for a Traveller! Was he in love with Shinead? Just horny? What was he expecting?


    Crap. Maybe he is indeed a Pervert, out to build a harem?


    Sure, Shinead was quite a beauty (Charisma:16, Foxy checked), but Foxy was sure, if anyone other than another Red Elf made advances, she would kill him. Blood Debt or no. Good.


    If he was a Pervert, the situation would resolve itself in short order.


    To be sure, Foxy signaled to Shinead, that she should be cautious around the Human, and Foxy would keep her eyes on them. The Red acknowledged and thanked her. They could have talked in Elvish, but using the gestures was more secure ¨C no Elf in his right mind would teach non-Elves the gestures and their meaning. Not even filth would do such a thing. There were few things more sacred for Elvenkind than the gestures.


    Sure, there were individuals, who were suspected to sell the gestures to outsiders. However, those never left the Domain, to begin with, or suffered an accident shortly after.


    It was all for the Greater Good of all Elvenkind.


    The next day they set out for a marketplace not far away.


    At least the Traveller tried to remember the town''s name, or butcher it into a form he could remember. Not that he was successful in his epic endeavor. Finally, Shinead took pity and told him what other Humans called the town. Or maybe she just couldn''t take it anymore. Foxy at least tried very hard not to shout at him after the first few hours.


    It was obvious, Prof ¨C Foxy needed to refer to him by his name, not as a Human or a Traveller ¨C expected something else from the town, not just a typical Elven one. If she remembered correctly, Flatsoundingworld-Humans had the idea that Elves lived on trees or inside ones. That was extremely offensive, Elves were the noblest and most advanced species on Arkadia, not some savages or monsters! Flatsoundingworld was strange.


    Shinead quickly informed the town guard about their situation, and told him the Human was under their protection ¨C Foxy identified herself as a Little Sister by a few unobtrusive gestures. After informing Prof about the significance of the house''s colors and what to look out for ¨C not that he understood the differences, and blanked out just like when Foxy tried to teach him about the Elven political situation ¨C they made their way to the Red Guest House. Settling into their room and having dinner took only a short time, so they made it over to the bathing house. Prof stunk. Shinead was¡­ not clean, and even Foxy had a¡­ certain¡­ fragrance.


    Of course, bringing a Human to an Elven bathing house presented some further problems. Humans were extremely shy when it came to being naked, the Travellers even more so. Prof tried to hide his man parts but still ogled the females in the bath. When he looked at Shinead, he tried to hide his¡­ interest¡­ even more¡­ hard.


    Disgusting.


    He needed to learn [Etiquette: Elven] and [Culture: Elven]. And some common decency. Looking at others in such a way was offensive, insulting, and demeaning ¨C if Foxy and Shinead hadn''t warned everybody and apologized, Prof would have been dragged outside for a sanctioned duel already. Or get thrown out of the bathing house, the town, or the Domain.


    The next morning ¨C Prof was still sleeping ¨C Foxy made it over to the prince''s mansion before doing anything else. She had to check in with the prince, warn him about the investigation and submit a report to her superiors. The prince was quite young for his position but luckily deferred to Foxy in regards to the Traveller. She had a reputation, after all, he saw no need to cross a veteran agent. He promised Foxy to inform the other inhabitants not to fleece him too much and refrain to kill, maim, or attack him.


    If there were complaints, they should be directed to either Foxy or the prince (who would re-direct them to Foxy). The Human was her responsibility after all.


    Her report was exhaustive, every last bit of findings, suspicions, and recommendations was included ¨C Foxy had enough experience to make a proper report. That, and getting her [Bureaucracy] Skill to a high enough level was one of the first things they taught her in training. Filling out forms properly and correctly was very important in the Domain. She always wondered, how the Humans could do without having a proper parchment trail for everything. How would they know, if someone was allowed to do this and that without official permits, licenses and identification?


    The Elves learned the proper way tens of millennia ago, ironically from one of the very first Travellers they made contact with after the United Domain was established. He was some kind of government official back on Flatsoundingworld and introduced proper bureaucracy to the Elves.


    They were so lucky!


    Finishing with the prince, Foxy had just enough time to talk to Caoilfhoinn, the keeper of the guest house, before Prof got up and they had to go to the shops. Their first stop was at the money-changer to get him Elven currency ¨C in a border town, it was not truly necessary, most shops would take Bergian money too (with an awful changing rate), but it was part of the investigation and to introduce him to Arkadian customs.


    For some reason, he called the Bergian coins gold, silver, and copper and not their proper names ¨C if he refused to use Elven money or use their proper names, it meant problems. A lot of Travellers were not willing (or able) to make a difference between currencies and treat them as one universal money. If he played along, a few not-so-good categories could have been dismissed.


    Well, he tried to play along.

 Interlude 2: A Little Wolf from Heye, Part 6

    Obviously, Prof was utterly incapable of understanding the Elven monetary system. Or the Elven political system.


    But he tried.


    He wasn¡¯t exactly stupid (with an Intelligence of 18, you could not be stupid, after all ¨C being a moron transcends the Stats), but the systems were alien to him. That he tried to understand how everything worked meant he probably viewed Arkadia as his new home and not some sick game. Although, a few Travellers did try to understand everything, but only to find some loophole to cheat the System or the Arkadians.


    Well, those never lived long.


    Mostly they just messed up their ¡°Build¡±, as they called it, and found an early grave. Those that had more luck with their ¡°Build¡± were hunted down even faster. Or bound to be used as shock troops.


    Despite his problems with understanding the monetary system, Prof managed just fine. Of course, the prince''s warning helped too, but the Traveller spotted the more obvious attempt to be fleeced and dodged those arrows. It would be interesting to see, how his [Commerce] held up in a live situation.


    He was good enough, though, to order some kind of overcoat made from the Dire Bear fur from the furrier and tanner, and haggled the cost down to an almost acceptable amount. The overcoat was quite an interesting piece, it kept the wearer cold in the Summer and hot in the Winter ¨C even as a concept, not even counting the finished product. Foxy had to note the design, maybe the Office could do something with it.


    At the town office, the prince excused himself ¨C not surprisingly, that was what they discussed ¨C and let the steward handle the Traveller. Prof was presented with a task to exterminate a pack of lizards. Foxy already knew about the task and what kind of lizard needed to be hunted, she was primarily interested in if Prof would jump into action without knowing anything. She even signed to the steward not to give any more details. She gave Prof some pointers but wanted to know what he will do.


    Well, he visited the local hunter ¨C not a bad idea. Since Prof could not understand Elvish, Foxy was able to talk with the hunter in peace and translate to Prof what she wanted. Actually, he even believed that the Elves were not able to distinguish between two very different kinds of lizards. He was quite trusting, maybe even a bit na?ve¡­ Well, it was good they could put the blame on an old author, who mixed up the two species in his novel. Foxy made it look like the author was a Master and wrote a book on [Monsterology].


    Again, he proved not to be stupid and wanted to collect a party to hunt the lizards. For some reason, he did not go to the village office but visited the other guest houses. Why he wouldn''t check the place where all adventurers and such registered themselves, but to a bar, Foxy couldn''t understand. You could find only questionable characters in bars¡­


    ¡°I''m sorry, he said, I''m retiring! I got an arrow in my knee!¡± the punchline of an old joke about an adventurer greeted them when they entered the White guest house. The joke was old but still good, and something like a running gag in the adventurer''s circles.


    Foxy quickly observed the patrons: three low-lives, a merchant with his bodyguard, and an¡­ that was interesting! The provocatively clad woman was a Vampire! Probably a noble from Forestdeep. What was she doing in the Domain? She quickly took a look at her Character Parchment. It was mostly what she expected: she was crazy but had an interesting spread of Skills. What gave Foxy pause were [Stealth] at 101%, [Camouflage], [Disguise], and [Acting] at 99% each, and [Con] at 90%. With [Camouflage] and [Disguise] one could obfuscate Skills and Perks, everyone knew that. Probably not Prof, though. Everything pointed rather to a spy, an infiltrator, or¡­ an agent. The clothing may have been the costume of an "oblivious bimbo" persona. She had a very bad feeling about her.


    Of course, the Traveller did not heed her warning, and started to chat her up, and wasn¡¯t interested in her warning at all. That was why ¡°oblivious bimbo¡± was such a well-liked method to ensnare Travellers. The Vampire overplayed it a bit, that went in the direction of ¡°perverted slut¡±. Yes, that was a common persona too, but not in the Domain, though.


    He learned enough to ask for the Vampire¡¯s Character Parchment, but still did not know what to look for. He was interested only in Skills for fighting, and probably [Sex] but wasn¡¯t able to spot the Skill that gave Foxy pause. Or, if he spotted them, could not understand the meaning.


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    It was really like Travellers grew up in a cave!


    He even invited her to join the party and go back to the dungeon together!


    At least his reactions when the Vampire was standing in the Sun were funny. Obviously, he expected her to burst out in flames or sparkle or something like that. Everyone on Arkadia knew Vampires were just dead people, and being dead gave nobody an allergy to sunshine ¨C imagine a battle site bursting out in flames! Without alchemists and mages doing anything, that is. Sure, there were people with Allergy: Sunshine, or some Extreme Disease, but that you would find on their Character Parchments.


    What next? Goblins being dumb, lazy arrow-fodder? Dwarves with beards? Zombies being contagious?


    Well, they were, but they spread only diseases. If they weren¡¯t interested in personal hygiene.


    She promised herself to give him lessons on Arkadian species, otherwise, he would make an ass out of himself ¨C he was lucky no one heard his theories about Elves. Even Foxy, who had to work with moronic Travellers for a long time, was close to hitting him.


    First, he had to learn Elvish ¨C so Foxy left him in the care of Caoilfhoinn and went to investigate the Vampire. If she was another agent from Forestdeep and was after her mark, it would be problematic, to say the least. She wasn''t aware if Forestdeep or one or more of the Estates had an organization like the Little Sisters, but secret organizations usually don''t advertise their existence. There was no gathering of Traveller-hunting organizations in nice taverns to discuss specific technics either.


    At least Foxy wasn¡¯t aware of such.


    So, if the Vampire was another agent and was after her mark, she would probably have to fight her. If she was a spy or infiltrator, working against the Domain, she would definitely have to fight her. There were a few possibilities, where they would have to fight each other ¨C and her Skills and Perks for fighting were higher than Foxy¡¯s. In the worst case, she would have to fight without preparation and maybe even get surprised.


    Foxy disguised the interrogation as an interview for the new party member, she wasn''t prepared to identify herself as an agent just yet. It became clear early on, that the Vampire was only acting and presenting a perverted, easy face to Prof, Foxy she presented a funny but sharp one. Foxy wasn''t sure if the second face was acted too, but it didn''t feel like so. However, the Vampire had too many mental issues to pin her down on. When the interrogation ended, Foxy was quite sure the Vampire wasn''t an agent, but a freshly turned trusted vassal who was sent abroad for Leveling.


    She was provided with quite a few magical trinkets ¨C not that she confirmed having them, but Foxy spotted them nonetheless. About half her rings were magical, providing some bonus for this or that. Her clothes were not magical, but high quality, giving some effect or another. That was not really surprising, Vampires were vain and rich, and liked to flaunt their wealth. A poorly-clothed Vampire was a disgrace to their family and Estate. Her taste in style wasn''t that extravagant either, but maybe a bit too on the other side of still accepted.


    In the outside world, at least. The Elven view on clothing was rather liberal, if one didn¡¯t wear any, no one saw any problem with it.


    Still, she planned to use dream magic later to take a look into her subconscious. Next night they will have to camp together anyway, hopefully, it was not too late by then.


    The next morning, Foxy was surprised by the mount the Vampire had with her. Not, that it was a Scorpionlizard, a notorious mount in Forestdeep, that she already knew, but it''s Level. A Level 20 Elite was a force to be taken seriously. Even before her "accident" Foxy wasn''t sure she could have defeated the mount on her own. Now? Even if all three of them cooperated well, they would be dead in a short time.


    Of course, it was named Binky, the mythical mount of an ancient Forestean hero. Well, ancient as in he lived and died a few millennia ago, but was still around as an undead. A skeleton or bone knight, if Foxy remembered correctly.


    The journey to the dungeon started well enough, Foxy used the time to teach Prof a few things about Arkadia, even the Vampire joined in from time to time. Of course, that dumb Traveller had to make an ass out of himself: he asked about Dwarves and told them what he "knew" about them.


    Yeah. Bearded Dwarves, constantly drunk, waving warhammers around, being the best smiths everywhere, talking in a strange accent¡­ Ridiculous!


    At least he got the accent right, Dwarves spoke in a shrill, high-pitched voice, completely unable to pronounce the sounds b, d, g, p, t, and k correctly, and having massive problems with l.


    The only saving grace was hearing Mini laugh. She did have a really cute one, a light, rolling one, with a little hint of hysterics.


    Maybe¡­?

 Interlude 2: A Little Wolf from Heye, Part 7

    Having a good laugh on Prof¡¯s expenses made the mood lighter, and Foxy started to chat up Mini.


    As long as she wasn''t acting like a full-out crazy person, she was actually fun to be around. That was even included in her Character Parchment: Happy Person. The chatting even turned into light flirting. Mini still did the heavy flirting (or offering up) with Prof but reserved some energy for Foxy.


    The dungeon run was a fast one ¨C it proved to everyone that Mini was a competent fighter and razor-sharp. When it was convenient or important to her, at least. Mostly, oblivious bimbos or incompetents were not turned into Vampires, the result would be an insult to their new families, after all. Mini was a trusted vassal previously, and even with the loss of a lot of Levels, she was still deadly. Foxy was quite sure, in her best days, she was most assuredly a very valuable asset to her Estate.


    When night fell, Foxy tried her dream magic on the two again. It was not the most favorable situation, instead of having a questioning in their minds, the last event before bed was slight petting, but Foxy was positive to get something out of them regardless. In regards to Prof, she already established a baseline, so he was not hard to read at all. Knowing what to look out for, she swept through his subconscious and dreams. The result was a reinforcement of what Foxy already found out: he didn''t care about heroic stuff that much, and dungeon diving was a means to an end for him. Get rich without working hard, seeing sights, wandering the world, and not bothering others. Or bothered by others. He probably was a Tourist after all. Something still bugged Foxy, though.


    As for Mini¡­ She was batshit crazy. As much as Foxy tried, her dreams included only sex, bloodshed, and orgies. Foxy was even included in a few scenes. This was why she hated reading the dreams of Vampires (or crazy people), they were notoriously hard to read, layers after layers of craziness and disillusions had to be removed, shifted through, and interpreted right.


    She gave up and went to sleep herself. She dreamed about Mini.


    The next day, back in the Red guest house, she confronted Prof for a few reasons.


    ¡°Do you intend to build a harem?¡± she was almost certain that he did not, but she had to ask nonetheless. She scheduled the questioning before going to bed, so she could double-check later. The answers themselves were not important, double-checking with dream magic and those answers were.


    ¡°And the vampire?¡±


    ¡°Mini is for my taste¡­ too direct? Too slutty? Why?¡±


    ¡°Wouldn''t it bother you if she slept with someone else?¡±


    ¡°Why would it bother me?¡±


    That line of questioning was for her own purposes. Mini was direct, but Foxy wouldn¡¯t have called her slutty. As far as she could determine, she haven¡¯t slept with anyone as long as she was in the town. Prof assumed, wrongly, that she did. At least, the situation was cleared up, Prof did not care if Mini slept around. Or Foxy. He never asked her what her Shunned (sexuality) (2) Perk was about, either. Or about any of her other negative Perks.


    As far as she knew, pointing out, asking about, or noticing negative Perks was a huge taboo on Flatsoundingworld. She wasn''t exactly sure why they were so dead-set to still do it on Arkadia, they were openly displayed for everyone to see on the Character Parchments, after all.


    For the next week and a half, Foxy concentrated on the surveillance of Prof¡¯s dreams. She asked for permission ¨C of course for ¡°research purposes¡± ¨C since with a willing participant it was easier to rummage in someone¡¯s head or dreams. She told him that she was largely unsuccessful, but that was only partially true. She did fail to dig deep to learn more about Flatsoundingworld and his past, but that was to be expected. She was a dream, and not a mental magic user, after all.


    She did fail to modify his dreams or plant new ones too. Mostly.


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    For both, she would have needed a much higher Skill Level, but her primary task was surveillance and determining if Prof was a threat to the Domain. Or the rest of Arkadia. In that, she succeeded splendidly.


    Oh, and she got quite close to Mini.


    A day after some Red Elves arrived in the guest house ¨C Prof was able to handle that without much fuss ¨C Foxy finally got an answer to her reports. Her superiors congratulated her for a job well done and mostly agreed with her analysis. It was, however, suspected that Prof was not a mere Tourist, but belonged to another category. It was suspicious, how he found trouble and befriended even Red Elves, how he found riches without doing much and looked like he was at the center of things without wanting to do so. And survives almost everything.


    It was strongly suspected, he was a Protagonist.


    She got her orders: observe if he gets into situations, gets rich, killed, or famous.


    Just as she was leaving the prince¡¯s office ¨C for some reason, Prof insisted on calling him a town chief ¨C she was contacted by the steward. The prince wanted to talk to her.


    ¡°Agent Delahaye, may I trouble you with an issue?¡± the prince said. Foxy motioned for him to continue ¡°I have gotten news that a bandit group set itself up on the road to the monkeys, and have already waylaid a few merchants. Would it be possible for you and your ward to take them on?¡±


    Protagonist, yeah¡­ It was almost like someone just invented situations for him to solve, or ones to passively stumble upon¡­ Would he just conveniently find himself on a legendary quest to find a long-lost magical relic? No way!


    Exterminating bandits was what the Bureau did, and involving Prof played into her orders, so there was no problem in helping the prince. However, Foxy thought it more convenient to go through the Fast Arrow Clan, in order not to give up her cover. And not to give Prof overmuch money. She hashed out the details with the prince in short order.


    The next day everyone was surprised that the prince wanted to speak with the representative of the Clan. Foxy left Prof to his own devices and again, he proved he wasn''t a complete moron. Since he still knew nothing about Elven etiquette, he at least used Bergian and blundered only a few times. Thankfully, Foxy and the prince already discussed everything, so he was not offended by the blunders.


    All Foxy had to do was pretend she was afraid of the prince listening in to their "secret" discussion and push Prof in the right direction. Actually, there would be no repercussions if Prof decided, he wanted no part in hunting bandits ¨C the contract was fake. Even if the contract was legit, Prof still would have no need to take it on. Since he was only an ally, not a true representative of the Clan ¨C that would be Ainmire, the archer ¨C technically he was not even in the position the legally accept a contract in the Clan''s name.


    Playing Travellers were so easy.


    As it turned out, Prof wasn''t exactly bad at planning, although a party of agents would have employed a different tactic. With their compasses, it would have been much easier to locate the bandit camp, and they would have specialized scouts anyway. With the constraints they faced, Prof''s plan wasn''t bad and had at least some chance for success. If he indeed was a Protagonist, probably even the most moronic plan would work, if he was something else¡­ well, Foxy was sure she would be able to reposition in time.


    Finding a lone bandit was harder ¨C they had to search for a few hours ¨C than overwhelming him; Foxy just hit him with a sleep spell. She wasn''t planning on telling Prof, she could cast such a Spell, and was sure, he wouldn''t ask about it. Travelers were strange, they never asked about what Spells one knew, only assumed the best Spell would be cast at an opportune moment. There was more than one way to skin a Dire Bear, and it was good to have a secret weapon when one dealt with Travellers.


    On the way back to the others, they accidentally dropped the bound bandit a few times. Neither Foxy nor Ainmire was strong ¨C their Strength was 12 and 11 respectively ¨C and the bandit had a bad grip. Well, even banged up, he was like new. Almost undamaged.


    During the interrogation, interesting things came to light. This gang broke away from a larger force not long ago, and that force was responsible for the destruction of Shinead''s Clan. Foxy was already aware of the larger force ¨C the movement of foreigners was monitored by the Domain, and every agent checked the lists as a matter of habit whenever they entered a new town. And at least once every week.


    However, that Human group had permission to cross the Domain, and it looked like it had the backing of someone powerful or respected. Plus a few Grey Elves as leaders or contractors. Why would such a force attack a no-name little Clan?


    She had to make a report and investigate further.


    While she contemplated the issue and implications, Mini finished the interrogation and started to have breakfast. She was a messy eater ¨C or was acting again ¨C there was blood everywhere, but at least she compelled the bandit to be silent. Even so, it was a gruesome sight. She joined Prof in short order and had to answer some questions. Again.

 Interlude 2: A Little Wolf from Heye, Part 8

    Exterminating the bandits wasn''t overly hard, and Prof even came up with a plan that was not utterly bad. In fact, the Little Sisters would have employed something similar. Archers take out as many enemies as possible in a surprise attack, and then the melee fighters would have been sent in to mop up any remaining resistance.


    Of course, the Little Sisters would use overwhelming force ¨C in numbers and Levels ¨C and not just a ragtag band of low Level ¡°adventurers¡±.


    Foxy was hoping that some of the bandits survived or surrendered, but in the heat of battle, no one would ¨C or should ¨C pull punches. It was kill or be killed. She needed an informant, nonetheless. Surprisingly, they were even able to take a prisoner or two. The head bandit even surrendered, obviously hoping to survive the ordeal ¨C not that he had any chance to do so. In view of his crimes, Foxy could have executed him on the spot, and handed him over to the Reds¡­ With a Human in the party, he probably hoped for a bit of corruption or intra-species loyalty. Or something.


    However, with his willingness to cooperate, he just dug his grave even deeper.


    Bad luck.


    The information was interesting, the bandits were specifically hired by a Grey Elf for the attack. That was concerning, to say the least ¨C an officially backed Human detachment exterminating a Red Clan, and being allowed to cross the Domain without further investigation and punishment? She definitely needed to make a report, and fast. But first was the time-proven ritual of looting the enemies.


    Foxy was aware that one cloth, one fur, and one spice merchant went missing, so it was no surprise that they found their merchandise covered by tarps. However, there was no mention of a jeweler missing or even one that was leaving Willowflower or was expected there! Truly, even a Protagonist wouldn''t be so lucky that an unexpected wealthy merchant just pops up at a convenient time.


    Even, if Prof and Mini both had a Luck of 16.


    Foxy already warned Prof that he would have to put the loot on the market at a discounted price ¨C that was actually only part of the truth, there was legalese to bypass the rule ¨C but now she had to come up with something that left less money in the hand of the Traveller. Extra-Arkadians with an overabundance of liquid assets were universally regarded as dangerous as Hero''s Parties. They would wreak havoc on the economy! Actually, Foxy already got some ideas.


    Of course, the Protagonist found an enslaved Kobold included in the loot. A female Kobold! He was planning on keeping it! Her¡­ That was very close, dangerously close, to the Harem-Pervert category. The fourth female in a bit more than a month and three of them were saved by the Traveller! Another point for her report, and another thing she had to look out for.


    They also found smuggled, illegal drugs with the spice merchant¡¯s merchandise, but Foxy was glad that Prof was willing to throw the dealer and his clients under the wagon. Of course, Foxy would take care of them on her own, it was her duty after all, but Prof proved that he was willing to follow the law. Not every Traveller was.


    Finally, the jeweler''s box revealed not one, not two, but THREE magical trinkets. They weren''t overly good, but still useful ¨C and two were almost custom-made for Prof and Foxy. Was the Heavenly Game Master throwing bones to the Traveller and trying to bribe Foxy? No, a pair of fancy earrings wasn''t enough by far to let her forget her duty! She would take them and continue with her investigation. If Prof was considered a threat, she would take care of him, earring or not.


    The rest of the merchant''s personal trinkets were nothing really good or valuable, she wouldn''t have considered most, but Prof was happy nonetheless ¨C and gave an HP-ring to the Kobold! As far as Foxy remembered, Travellers had a mating ritual that included giving rings to each other. Was Prof asking a Kobold to be his wife?!?! After only a few minutes? No, probably he was just handing over the most useful trinket to the party member that could make use of it the most.


    If that was how it went, Foxy wouldn¡¯t have to pocket the alcohol-detecting ring ¨C despite what she said, it was a very useful one for every Dwarf or for anyone with low alcohol tolerance. Like Foxy, for example. She also pocketed the most pretty-looking [Commerce] ring and planned to give it to Mini. She deserved some pretty things, after all!


    She was very grateful for the ring. Her Endurance of 18 was telling after a few hours, Foxy was spent, but Mini even voluntold the bandit for a second round.


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    The morning after they got back to Willowflower, Foxy snuck out before Prof woke up. She had to compile a report for her superiors and talk to the prince, about how they could decrease Prof''s reward. There were laws and traditions they could employ ¨C some were rarely if ever, used, others were there to fleece Humans and the occasional Greenskin or Lizard trader, and some were just normal.


    In the end, the steward was, who came up with the solution. It was an almost forgotten rule that enabled craftsmen to claim ownership of certain looted things if the merchant in question had an outstanding debt or the town''s prince (or an equivalent) authorized them for the Greater Good of all Elvenkind.


    The survey and taxation of the loot went reasonably well. The steward was able to legalese the amount to be kept by the Traveller down to almost half of what Prof hoped to get.


    ¡°I feel cheated¡­¡± Prof cried. He was observant enough to figure it out.


    ¡°That''s probably because you were." Foxy patted his back and suppressed a smile. Everything was technically fully legal, and they even discarded some ideas that would have put the whole haul under governmental control, without any compensation whatsoever. They discarded it because they would have to reveal Foxy as an agent, and that would jeopardize her further investigation of Prof. She didn''t want to bankrupt him in one go, just prune the monetary income. If he truly was a Protagonist, he would find money laying around somewhere.


    The next day they visited the Midyear celebration. Despite Willowflower being a little border town, the celebration was done very well. The costumes were splendidly done, even in the capital they wouldn''t have been out of place. Rabbit-and-Hunter was the best match she have ever seen ¨C the referee-mage was very skilled in painting traps, but still fair and both the Rabbit and the Hunters were exceptional in their respective tasks. The team would have been easily placed in the top three in the Elven League.


    Unfortunately, all the cultural significance was lost on Prof. He couldn''t even grasp the rules for Rabbit-and-Hunter!


    At least they found another party member to hunt the annoying lizards, who was even willing to wait a week or so to get the party moving. Surprisingly, it was not another female.


    A few days later she received orders regarding the Human band and the attack on the Red Clan: keep observing but don¡¯t act. She had the feeling, her superiors already knew about the attack and the motives, if they didn¡¯t order immediate action, probably the Greater Good of all Elvenkind was in play. Even with politics involved, such an attack was unthinkable. The only reason, this could have happened was the survival of Elvenkind, and even so, the one who ordered the attack would be punished.


    Sacrifices were to be made for such an order.


    When Shinead returned a few days later, she had new achievements on her skin ¨C last survivor, lost Clan, Clan Leader, and First Hunter. The piercings on her nostril and eyebrow told about the significance of the Clan. Foxy even gleaned a peek at the tattoos for blood debt, sworn revenge, and a few others. Shinead started to collect a proper number of tattoos for a Red Elf.


    The hunt for the lizards was depressingly easy, to say the least. It looked like Prof recognized the animals and got very careful from one moment to the other. After cracking some jokes ¨C even Prof added a few sarcastic remarks ¨C they found the lizards in a meadow with high grass. Prof did the right thing, and let their mage blanket the area in fire. Obviously, he wasn''t stupid, Foxy knew a few Travellers (and a few locals) who would enter the meadow without a thought and die horribly.


    Mopping up the last resistance was just an afterthought after burning down the meadow.


    Since they planned to chase the attackers of Shinead¡¯s Clan, Foxy decided that Prof didn¡¯t need further funds. Only the amount to buy a few beasts of burden and some necessities was enough. It was time to apply Elven Law. Theoretically, Prof didn¡¯t need many papers, since he was an ally and deputy Clan Leader for Shinead and a ¡°ward¡± of an agent for Extra-Arkadian affairs, so he was covered from two sides. Well, as long as Shinead or Foxy were around.


    However, Elven Law technically required a proper parchment trail and for foreigners to have certain permits, licenses, and identification papers. It was a good excuse to liberate surplus money from Prof and teach him about how Arkadia worked. Maybe he could get away with having no identification in Human lands outside of the Domain ¨C what Foxy knew about those lands, it was unlikely ¨C but in other countries, no identification and proper permits was a good way to be exploited or enslaved. Or fined and killed.


    Having cleared the plan with the prince previously, it was easy to set up a fine and list for "needed" permits, licenses, and identifications that set Prof back sufficiently but haven''t bankrupted him totally. Mini unwittingly helped her and she told Shinead to play along with a few unobtrusively.


    Buying a pair of the donkeys they rescued from the bandits ¨C overprized, but just so that Prof could still buy them ¨C set them up for the hot pursuit of the Human band.


    Well, lukewarm pursuit, at best.

 Interlude 2: A Little Wolf from Heye, Part 9

    The journey went well for the first day or two, no dangerous animals, monsters, or bandits showed themselves.


    Well, that was to be expected, the Domain was probably the most secure place on Arkadia, and definitely on Fenria. What self-respecting country would let dangerous critters roam around anyway? That was why the Army, the Militia, adventurers, and the campground guards were there, to begin with. And the Red Elf Clans. What else would they do instead of hunting stuff that would endanger the Domain and its inhabitants?


    Sit around in the barracks or a bar?


    All went well till they entered the next town. What went wrong was the presence of Glitter Elves. They were mischievous at best, outright cruel at other times ¨C and they hated Humans with a passion, that overshadowed even the Reds. Prof¡¯s Gentleman Perk would probably save him from an outright attack or some nasty pranks, but he would be shaken down for some booze or good food anyway.


    That is if the Glitters didn''t regard him as a curiosity. Then all bets were off.


    They needed to leave the town as fast as possible, if the Glitter¡¯s curiosity was awoken, not even Foxy¡¯s status would calm them down.


    Of course, the Glitters spotted them almost immediately. No wonder. They were employed as scouts and spies by the Domain, after all. Of course, they found Prof and the party interesting enough to get the Cluster Leader and every last Glitter in town. Luckily Foxy was able to warn Prof against attacking them, no matter what happened. If that happened, even Foxy wouldn¡¯t able to save him ¨C actually, she would have to put him down for attacking an Elf.


    Thankfully, Prof could reign in his anger and did not attack the Glitters ¨C not even when they ¡°sexually harassed¡± him. Foxy wasn¡¯t exactly sure, why he felt that way, she did not see anything that she would consider sexual harassment. There was absolutely no touching only completely normal nakedness. Why the people from Flatsoundingworld were so against being naked, Foxy couldn¡¯t understand. Why they had to complain and whine constantly?


    When the Glitters found the Glitter Brandy, the crisis was over. With the Glitters at least. The complaining and whining only started after they left the town. Prof obviously hasn''t learned yet that in the Domain Elves came first, second, and third, other species only after them, how the Domain''s Laws and Traditions worked, and that the Glitters were completely in their right to demand their due.


    When Shinead pointed out exactly that, Prof acted offended. Foxy already noticed that he wasn''t so in love (more likely horny) anymore, but this little interaction cured him of the last lingering feelings. Good for him, trying to bed a Red wasn''t the best idea, to begin with.


    For the rest of the day, he sulked like he was insulted. What a child.


    In the next three weeks, they continued the pursuit, getting up early in the morning, walking forty-five kilometers a day, just to reach the next camping ground with the last light. They stopped only rarely, mostly just for Shinead going into a town to get information on the Human band. Foxy sometimes accompanied her to submit her next report, or get new orders.


    Her superiors were fairly certain by this point, that Prof was indeed a Protagonist ¨C although some doubts still remained. Foxy''s orders were to monitor him till otherwise ordered, even outside the Domain. She was free to terminate him if he went against the Domain''s interests. As for the Human attackers and their Grey Elf contractors¡­ She was to hold still and observe.


    The border town they arrived at ¨C instead of the very poetic and expressive Elven name they had to use Deadbranch ¨C finally provided a bathhouse, where she could soak in peace for a time. After they were dumped in a low-class guest house by Shinead, Prof left to chat up an Adopted-Blue next door, so Foxy went for a good soak with Mini in tow. Just as they came back to the guest house, Prof was also finished chatting with the caretaker, and since he was¡­ dirty and stinky¡­ the girls decided, he needed some serious cleaning.


    Well, they had to dump a few buckets of water on him before he was allowed into the bath.


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    Small sacrifice for not having to smell him any longer.


    During their preparation for the expedition into the Valley of Torment, Prof finally found his spine and refused to pay for everything on his own. Foxy relented only because they faced an expedition of unknown length without the possibility to resupply, and Prof''s financial situation wasn''t so good that he needed further pruning. With Foxy on an official assignment, she could bill the costs on the Office, so it cost her nothing. She even took Mini''s purchases over.


    It cost her nothing to be gallant.


    The saved money Mini blew on new clothing. Prof often complained about the style females clothed themselves on Arkadia, but he failed to notice that only the richer classes could afford the extravagant pieces. Or adventurers. Actually, that style, while not really convenient in most instances, was around for millennia, and it was virtually impossible to get rid of it. Adventurers and richer people always re-discovered it in short order. One of the most useless get-ups was a two-piece set for females, made out of chainmail. Mini had three of those.


    It was speculated for a long time that either the Heavenly Game Master himself was behind the constant re-discovery, widespread use, and popularity of the style. Or Travellers.


    The next day Prof left for a quick run in a dungeon not far away. Everyone, Foxy especially, was curious, if he found another female in distress to add to his collection. Foxy thought about following him secretly but finally decided against it. He would be away for only a day, and even as a Traveller and a suspected Protagonist, he wouldn''t be able to find trouble in that time. What could possibly go wrong?


    The rest of the party ¨C the Kobold excluded, she was confined to the guest house ¨C took advantage of the free time for further purchases, gathering information, or just lounging in a street-side tavern. Foxy submitted her last report with her intentions including, restocking some consumables (the ones Prof should not know about) and joining Mini in the tavern. After the last month of constant travel, it was good to have a few hours of easy time.


    The tavern even served her favorite dessert, sweet cottage cheese coated in syrup, quick-fried, and cooled down. It was a pity, that it was mostly sold in the Brown territories, the capital, for example, had only one pastry cook who made it, and in the East, it was almost unknown. She quickly stocked up a couple of servings ¨C her Bag of Holding would keep it fresh indefinitely. It was a misuse of Office-provided gear, but she was going on an expedition of unknown length, so she was able to justify it for herself.


    A few days later, they entered to Valley of Torment ¨C surprisingly without Prof collecting another party member.


    It was like the reports described it: the structure of space was weak, chaotic, and unpredictable. What was there one moment, was gone the next, Foxy suspected they traveled from one side of the Valley to the other with just a few steps and ended up somewhere completely else the next hour. Shinead''s compass was basically useless ¨C even if Guillermo''s band stood still, the party still had to travel, and as soon as they didn''t pay attention, they ended up on the wrong side of everything.


    It was a nightmare.


    The same nature of the Valley made it absolutely impossible to send an army of meaningful size through it, and even small raiding parties mostly just disappeared. The Domain¡¯s Western border was thus secure.


    It was speculated, that there were inhabitants in the Valley, remnants of the previous population and survivors of expeditions, and the occasional army that was sent into it in the few years after the Cataclysm. There were sightings and traces but no definite proof.


    At least no one survived an encounter to tell the tale.


    The most perplexing, recurring sighting was of a fur-clad, huge Human, that often lurked in the woods next to campsites at the night. Since the sightings went back at least three centuries, it was impossible for it to be a Human, despite the matching descriptions. It was called the Large-Footed Hairy Human, but Foxy thought it to be a hoax or a hallucination.


    Until she saw it one night while on guard duty. One moment it was just there, watching her, the next it was gone again. She started to regret her choice to have entered the Valley. It was not a sane place.


    She absolutely regretted her choice when they returned to the old Dragonkin ruins time and again. First, such ruins were extremely dangerous, with vengeful ghosts and spirits lurking near and in them ¨C they lacked enough magical weapons, they had only Mini''s saber, Shinead''s dagger, and Foxy''s wrist claws, neither of them really powerful. Secondly, and more importantly, the ruins had no right to be there, even ruined as they were. The war against the Dragonkin was forty millennia ago, what remained of the architecture in the Domain, was gone when the Elven Unity came into being.


    The Elves took care of that.


    The only silver lining in the whole ordeal of the expedition was the logbooks left behind by Guillermo''s band. Foxy''s [Cryptography] was basically non-existent, but the Office had a few very good code-breakers, so she pocketed every last of them. If someone took the effort of leaving coded logbooks behind in a place like the Valley, the organization responsible for defending the Domain from threats had to have them.

 Interlude 2: A Little Wolf from Heye, Part 10

    After slogging aimlessly through the Valley for a long time, the chase came to an abrupt end when they arrived at those cursed ruins for the¡­ umpteenth time.


    They already lost two of their beasts of burdens, potions ran low ¨C Foxy still had a few for contingencies, and she suspected the others had a few hidden away too ¨C food and booze almost completely gone. The last one was important with Prof''s addiction, if he didn''t drink a few times a week, he would go into withdrawal, and that included some debilitating deductions to a lot of Skills and Stats.


    Not something one wanted to happen during a dangerous expedition.


    Mini and Prof were visibly fed up with the aimless wandering in the Valley, and flat-out told Shinead, they should wait for Guillermo and his band right there. Foxy herself didn''t care, either way, she went where Prof went, he was her primary objective.


    If not Prof, she would follow Mini ¨C it was time for a vacation.


    With technically three against one ¨C no one cared to ask the Kobold ¨C it was decided, they would settle down at a respectful distance from the ruins and wait.


    As it transpired, the wait wasn¡¯t overly long, as soon as they finished the discussion, the group they were trying to catch for a long time just walked in on them.


    Even without introducing himself, it was obvious from the description, which one Guillermo was, the Green-Grey female was probably Csenge, a sniper from Felseberg, the other female, a Blue-Grey was almost certainly Francesca, a well-known duellist from the Gerulian Federation. The other two Foxy couldn¡¯t name or place. One was a Shadowgrey-Grey, observing him Foxy learned he was some kind of thief or assassin. The last one was a true rarity: a Black-Grey.


    She never heard that they procreated with Humans, or even with other Elves. In fact, they mostly kept to themselves in their sects and only interacted with the Domain when someone needed serious killing. In that regard, they were even more notorious than the Reds, the Domain was very careful to point them only in the direction of something no one would miss. Cities could be rebuilt, right?


    Those battle maniacs and berserkers.


    And one of them made a Grey¡­ Why would a hermaphrodite Black Elf want to procreate with a Human? Oh, the times, the customs!


    The Humans weren¡¯t that interesting, a run-of-the-mill small band of mercenaries, looking at their gear, probably from Gerulia.


    Of course, the little Red charged without giving any thought to survival. Probably she expected the others to follow in the same manner, but Prof was marginally intelligent, Mini and Foxy didn''t care that much ¨C and no one asked the Kobold. Who most likely wasn''t prepared to die for a Red anyways?


    Prof was intelligent enough to tackle Shinead and precluded an immediate battle. Not intelligent enough, though, to realize that after this, he will wake up with a dagger in his gut, blood debt be damned. You don''t stand between a Red and her revenge ¨C or stand between a Red and anything else, for that matter.


    Shinead cared little for being pinned beneath the Human and kept throwing insults and threats at the Grey. He, in turn, wasn''t intimidated (Mini could do that without fail, Foxy thought), and did something Foxy never expected.


    ¡°I''m on official business, so stand down, little bitch." he told the assembled crowd and flashed a badge. One that identified himself as a member of the All-Elven Central Department for Military Defence, Protection, Intelligence, and Security Services. It actually looked legit ¨C not that anyone could forge a false one, that stood up to inspection. Even if it proved to be a forgery, they could not attack him and his until it was established. That Foxy was told by her superiors to stand still, the badge and the claim were most likely legitimate.


    ¡°Shinead, stand down! That''s an order!" She needed to find out the truth before committing violence.


    ¡°Sleep with a monkey, Little Sister! You can not order me around!¡± Well, that was rude. Telling an Elf to have intercourse with a Human was an insult on the same level as calling them a cur, questioning their purity. That called for blood. That she seriously thought, Foxy couldn¡¯t order her around, gave just injury to a wound.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have jurisdiction over Red Elves, and you know it! You have no jurisdiction outside of the Domain!¡° was she that stupid? No, an Intelligence of 14 would be enough not to think such stupid things. Her [Law: Elven] was low, though, but still, an agent of the Bureau and the Office had jurisdiction over everything that had to do with threats to the Domain and Travellers. The Laws and Customs were clear.


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    Not to waste any more time, she hit Shinead with a sleep spell. Let the grown-ups settle the issue between themselves.


    ¡°Actually, no, Little Sister." Guillermo grinned. He at least acknowledged her standing and right to question him "First, I myself did not harm anyone in that Clan, that was all done by the Humans. In fact, the Clan broke the law by harming one of my subordinates when he tried to deliver a missive and ask for an artifact. That was a refusal of an official order and an attack on another Elf."


    ¡°Look, I have 311% in [Law: Elven], you can trust me.¡±


    Actually, Foxy could trust him to justify anything he did to her. Everything would be within the Law and Customs ¨C to ascertain the claim, she would have to cart him back to the Domain, and hand him over to investigators proficient in [Magic: Mind] and [Laws: Elven]. Here, in the field, she would have to hear him out and decide after that.


    Leaving the others back, the two of them withdraw a short distance. Foxy was sure, they were far enough so Prof and Mini couldn''t hear them, so she wouldn''t give out secrets to foreigners.


    Guillermo handed a stack of papers to Foxy, who read through them attentively. Identifications, permits, licenses, and orders. Everything looked good, and Foxy even took a look at the badge. It was valid, too.


    ¡°They look genuine, and as such prove you are acting in an official capacity.¡± Foxy switched to Elven when they were alone ¡°That leaves only two points if we assume what you said about the Red clan is true. The attack on Shinead Sidhe of the Swift Arrow Clan and the question of the Humans and their attack on the Swift Arrow Clan. Care to explain?"


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to concern yourself with the Humans for much longer. As for the Red bitch¡­ Well, the person who attacked her will be available for trial after we accomplish our mission, that I promise.¡±


    So, the Humans would be dead shortly, not much of a loss. How Guillermo would ensure the guilty person would be available later was a more important question. There was, however, a way to bind Guillermo to his promise. Foxy fished some Office-issued materials out of her bag.


    ¡°You know what this is. Swear that the filth responsible for the attack will stand trial and you and yours will do everything to make it happen.¡±


    Guillermo blanched but swore nonetheless. Good. If he went against his word, people will know and he would have to flee beyond Chimeria to lose the pursuers.


    ¡°Now, what are this whole expedition and attack about?"


    ¡°The old ones had the right idea! Make a death zone so no one can reach the Domain! Elvenkind would be safe in such an impenetrable fortress, no matter what the other species do! We should not concern ourselves with them! If they want to kill each other off, they can be my guests! We would have time and resources to deploy old magic to kill off all the others! Those who survive will know their place as pets for their Elven Masters! As it should be!"


    ¡°How would you accomplish that? No one knows, how the Valley was formed. Who gave you this mission? Does the High King know about this?¡±


    Foxy was not appealed by the prospect of mass genocide, it was only about other species after all, and if the hierarchy was OK with it¡­ It was for the Greater Good of All Elvenkind.


    ¡°HA! You know nothing! The old ones did all this!¡± he spread his hands, probably indicating the Valley. Or the whole world ¡°They found some artifacts from the Dragonkin Wars, and wanted to build the impenetrable fortress millennia ago! If not for an accident, they would have succeeded! That accident was the Reds and they STOLE one of the key parts that made the ritual work!"


    ¡°How do you know that? No one survived the forming of the Valley!¡±


    ¡°You are wrong, again! A lot of folks survived it, some are even now living here! We have even met a few! As for the mages responsible for the ritual? Most of them survived! The ritual went wrong, at least but they were hunted down by these filthy Reds afterward! Only my master managed to survive!"


    ¡°Ah, that mysterious Shadowgrey Elf, who sponsored this expedition. This is why you attacked the Swift Arrow Clan too?¡±


    ¡°Yes! They were a splinter Clan from an older one, and they were entrusted with the stolen part. They refused to hand it over for the Greater Good of All Elvenkind!¡±


    ¡°I assume, you have the stolen part. What next?¡±


    ¡°Next? I will contact my Master, and he will complete the ritual he began millennia ago! The Domain will be safe behind the wall so we will be able to concentrate on eradicating all those upstarts! For those that survive, the ritual will kill a lot of them on its own. For the Domain!"


    That wasn''t the worst plan Foxy ever heard, and it had merit. The Domain was struggling against all those enemies coming from all directions. A few centuries or millennia of peace would be enough to regain the lost strength ¨C mainly if the outside menace was culled at the same time.


    ¡°All right, what do we do now with¡­¡±


    Foxy couldn¡¯t finish the sentence. Two powerful crossbow bolts sticking out of her lungs made sure of that. While she collapsed, she still could hear a scream in a well-known voice:


    ¡°KILL THE ELVES! FOR HUMANITY!!!¡±


    That was cruel, so cruel, so, so cruel. Bloodthirsty and unscrupulous. Maybe Irresponsible.


    And so Foxy Delahaye died for real.

 Interlude 3: A red happened to ME?! Part 1

    Shinead Sidhe had a bad day. To be frank, she had a couple of bad days lately, around a week and a half worth of them. If those days were scattered around in different months, it wouldn''t have been much of a problem, but they were concentrated one after the other.


    Being sent on an important mission to deliver documents wasn¡¯t bad in itself, Shinead actually liked running around the Domain on her own, and she just loved to do important things for the Greater Elven Good. Every last Elf should have dedicated themselves fully to the betterment of the Domain and as such making Fenria perfect.


    It wasn''t bad that she was intercepted and defeated either. The Domain needed martyrs to serve as role models for later generations after all! Being defeated while doing an important delivery wasn''t much of a role one should aspire to follow, but fighting and dying in the line of duty was. It would have been better if she survived and completed the delivery, but she was only Level 5, so she was content to die a heroic death for the Clan and the Domain.


    She could have lived with just surviving the encounter even if she lost the delivery. She would have been a failure and would have to work hard to make the failure be forgotten (maybe she could have died a heroic death for Clan and Domain later). But, she wouldn''t have been a disgrace.


    Thanks to a wandering monkey, she survived. She was ashamed to owe a blood debt to a creature, she vowed to get rid of or at least force them to their place below their Elven Masters. The monkey even touched her! And ogled her, when she was forced to give him the traditional ritual vow of blood debt. Ogled her so hard, his eyes almost fell out of their sockets! Lust was written all over him! That dirty monkey! If this happened in the Domain, the pig would have been castrated, but only after Shinead had extracted reparation from him. Probably by poking out his eyes.


    But obviously, this was not the Domain, but Monkeylands.


    If only she didn''t owe him a blood debt! As the monkeys used to say, a Red would happen to him, even here, outside of the Domain. She knew she was attractive ¨C no vanity there, her Character Parchment said her Charisma was 16 ¨C but such ogling and openly displayed lust was just offensive and against the law.


    To make things even worse, he provided her with clothing and weapons! Was this monkey retarded or grew up in a cave?!?


    Not that the clothes and weapons were any good, but if an Elf ever saw her in that getup, she would be the laughingstock of the whole Domain for the next couple of centuries! She would have rather gone naked ¨C she did not have any problem with nakedness, as it was proper for any good Elf ¨C if not for the obvious lust and horniness of her "savior". Running around naked with such a creature would surely lead to him getting ideas ¨C she assumed, it was still a real possibility.


    That he found her family dagger and gave it back without much haggling just gave insult to injury.


    If all this came out back in the Clan Headquarters, she would be destroyed. Even if her superiors didn''t just execute her for the shameless failure she was, she would have been kicked out in short order (what mostly amounted just to a slower death). She sent the monkey to a dungeon cave to hopefully die or at least fornicate as much as he liked. Everyone knew after all, that Humans (as they demanded to be called) could procreate with basically everything. Shinead couldn''t even start to comprehend, how lawyers came into existence. She left for the Clan''s Headquarters to be destroyed.


    She shouldn''t have worried about being destroyed ¨C the Clan Headquarters was destroyed. As were the Barracks, the Archer Turrets, the Supply Depot, the Training Grounds, the Supporting Village, the Crafter Quarters, the Research Lab, the Spider Mine¡­ Everything was destroyed.


    Everyone was dead.


    Save for her, the disgraced, shameless failure.


    What could have done this?!? There were high Leveled Elves in the Clan, were they mass-rushed by some slimy creatures with a hive mind? Who was stupid enough to destroy a Red Elf Clan this utterly? Looking around, it was done fast and from within. No one would be able to sneak inside, the Spider Mine would have made it impossible, and no one would betray the Clan this way! Not even with mind control or parasites. There were countermeasures in place just for such possibilities.


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    Shinead walked around in the destroyed base. That burned-out husk was the infirmary, that pile of rubble was the barracks, those broken walls belonged to the headquarters, that flattened stretch of land was previously the training grounds¡­ Well, technically it still was the training grounds, only the targets were burned, as you would need heavy magic to de-flatten a piece of land. Or that thingy the peasants used. Plow, plough, or whatever it''s called.


    From the tracks and clues, it was obvious that the Clan was able to rally some defenders after the first shock, and tried to get the few non-combatants to safety. As it was proper! The fighters would mount a glorious last stand in the face of overwhelming opposition and die standing. Their names would go down into history, there would be novels and poems and paintings of the last stand, and they will be role models for later generations! The surviving auxiliaries would make sure, revenge would be extracted from the depraved perpetrators!


    This is why the Clans made sure, there were no survivors or they knew, having a stiff upper lip just invited unfortunate accidents.


    Obviously, the attackers had the same idea: the auxiliaries ran into an ambush and were killed even before the last stand came to a conclusion. How badly the soldiers were burned and mutilated, Shinead was unable to name them, she just figured, no High-Leveled leader was included. Those she found in the secure bunker below the headquarters. Dead and looted all the same.


    That was a problem. Without knowing the names of the participants, how could she make role models out of them? How could she immortalize them? Without eyewitnesses, how could she know the details to commission an epic poem or painting? She would be forced to be satisfied with a generic Last Stand of the Swift Arrow. Personal touches would elevate the value and the impact of role models.


    First, she had to pay respect to all her fallen kameraden. Fortunately for her, Elves didn¡¯t subscribe to the barbaric custom of putting dead bodies into the ground or the equally horrible habit of burning them. Burying a few hundred corpses would have been more than she was able to accomplish, with Strength and Endurance both only at 12, it would have taken her a very long time. Not to comment on any of her Skills that had a least a rudimentary connection to digging a hole into the ground¡­


    No, she did the funeral the Proper Elven Way: lining up the bodies on the training ground, beginning with the highest Leveled and ranked down to the youngest auxiliary. Putting a funeral coin ¨C gold for the higher leaders, silver for the officers, copper for common hunters, and iron bits for the young and auxiliaries ¨C on their right eye, covering the faces with red cloth and planting a small flower next to their heads.


    At least, she tried to do it the Proper Elven Way. First, she did not know the correct range for so many people, then she had problems identifying the dead to put them into their proper places in the row, and finally, she had no money or cloth at hand. Searching through the ruins ¨C it was neither scavenging nor looting, it was her home, after all ¨C turned up only a handful of funeral coins and not much more in way of foreign currency. Together it was barely enough for half the fallen. With cloth, she was equally unlucky. Cloth burned more easily compared to metals, so not much was left in a usable form. Stripping the dead for funeral veils was out of the question, and, of course, blue cloth was out of the question too, that was the color of marriage. She had to do what was left.


    Cutting the funeral coins and currency into half she managed to get enough for everyone, and settling for just a strip of cloth (in whatever color it was available) instead of a full veil, she put together a marginally acceptable funeral row. Everyone with [Last Rites] at a high enough level would have flown into a fit, but this was the most Shinead could put together.


    Searching through the rubble and ruins for the clan regalia and for anything of value took her at least as long as to pay her respect. Of course, being a low-level hunter for the Clan, she was not privy to a lot of hidden treasures, armories, and caches, but the most important ones she knew. Accidentally, the most important ones were the easiest to find, and all were mostly looted. Strangely, the Clan regalia were not looted, just thrown in a corner and used as a toilet by the attackers. The gall! Just for that, every last Red would torture the perpetrators to death! A very, very slow death. If this ever came out, of course. Having the regalia desecrated in such a way would mean, the Swift Arrow Clan would be destroyed not just physically but in spirit.


    No epic poems or paintings, no material for role models, but just a cautionary tale of a nameless Clan (or rather a clan, since they wouldn''t even warrant the capital letter) which stooped so low, that the regalia was used as a toilet and no one was able the avenge the slight.


    Shinead spent a whole day cleaning the regalia the most thoroughly they were ever cleaned. She vowed to never, ever talk about this to anyone EVER, and kill every last one of the attackers, shit down their throats, find a necromancer, rise them again, and nail their still-thinking corpses up at the ruins of the Clan village. And kill them again every year for eternity.


    Even if she had to lead a monkey around his nose.


    Before leaving the ruins, she went back to the Inkmaster''s office. Of course, the more valuable (or at least valuable-looking) implements were looted, and most of the rest were destroyed, but the catalog of approved tattoos, markings, and signs carved into the walls was still intact. She searched for and found the most severe of vows and promises there was known to the Clan, and carved it into her left breast, directly over her heart ¨C as it was the approved place for such. Everyone who saw it, even non-Reds, would know she was out for revenge and would not rest until the promise was fulfilled. Not even death would stand in her way!

 Interlude 3: A red happened to ME?! Part 2

    Shinead still had a bad day.


    Just as she arrived at the dungeon where the Human was waiting for her, what was the first thing he tried to do? Touching her! Obviously, he was so horny, that he wanted to touch and have his way with her even dirty as she was. That pig!


    She was able to fend him off and send him back to the campground with the rescued items, before cleaning herself up in the spring. If she had to lead around the monkey to secure his help, at least she would be clean!


    Of course, her determination left her as soon as she arrived at the camp. That monkey found another female in the deep forest, and said female was questioning her dedication to the traditions! As every full-ranked scout, she had the permission and means to check the Character Parchments of everyone in the Domain and even outside of it, if she was on a mission. She haven''t bothered to check the monkey''s, he was so below her, but the Elven woman with Prof¡­ She was shocked. A mixed-race pervert? Of course, one disgusting creature would be drawn to another! However, she expected more of an Elf, even if she was just a perverted cur. Sleeping with a monkey just for the fun of it?!?


    Instead of covering in shame as it would be proper in front of a true, pure-blooded Elf, the new female stood up to her!


    It took Shinead a few seconds to get the meaning of what the cur was saying and signing. And who she was.


    A Little Sister from the All-Elven Investigation Bureau for Internal Insurances'' Office for Extra-Arkadian Infiltrations, Intrusions, Influences, Incidents, and Inklings and she was here on official business! Damn it to the Heavenly Game Master! She even ordered Shinead not to lay hand on the Human. Damn it again! And she was the thrice-damned Rabid! Even Shinead heard about her exploits, including her executing some upper-echelon leaders of the High Kings Academy. That bitch was hard-core!


    Waaaaait¡­


    If the Office and the Bureau were involved, sent The Rabid of all the possible Little Sisters, and she was basically told to piss off, that could mean only one thing¡­


    The human was a Traveller!


    Everyone knew, what kind of depraved perverts they were (even the so-called heroes), trying to build up a harem and rule over their braindead bed-warmers in perverted depravity! Or even worse, was he trying to build up the next Hero''s Party? Everyone heard the cautionary tales of the last one, the carnage they wrought, the people they killed, the burial grounds they plundered! But no, he probably wasn''t building a Hero''s Party, the Little Sister would have ended him already. Probably. Hopefully. Even so, Shinead dodged an arrow with the Little Sister showing up on time. No, she dodged a whole volley of arrows!


    If the stories were right ¨C and why shouldn¡¯t they be right? ¨C she needed to get away, fast. Probably even the perverter Little Sister was in danger of being seduced by the Traveller, and would warm his bed before long. What else could happen? Would he find an undead or a reptile for the collection? A donkey, maybe?


    At least, the Little Sister gave her an out by informing her, that technically she could continue the Clan even on her own. She only had to register the claim with and present the regalia to the final arbiter of any Clan-related issue, the Kl¨¢n¨¹gyi ¨¦s Garanci¨¢lis Bizotts¨¢g, which would mean a month-long journey and conferences. Probably also trials. However, it was worth it, if she could continue the Clan on her own, she would be able to exact revenge in an official manner and secure the epic poems and paintings for the fallen. If she did well enough, probably even statues weren''t out of question.


    It would be a legendary epic: the last surviving member of a destroyed Clan exacted revenge in the official, Proper Elven Way! She would be a role model, not a failure!


    The best of it, she wouldn¡¯t need the help of a monkey. Or sleep with one. Or get into the harem of one. The Little Sister was welcome to him.


    To give any advances to join his harem less possibility (yes, she was aware, of how aroused the little pig was when they visited the bathing house in the nearest town), she left at the earliest possible time. The town that housed the Bureau wasn''t anywhere near, so she had to leg it. Revenge waited for no one, after all. The sooner she re-registered the Clan, the sooner she could start recruiting and finding out, who the attackers were.


    The sooner she got her target, the sooner she could start slicing and dicing. All those filthy animals would know their places soon enough!


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    It wasn''t revenge fantasy, if you had the means and will to inflict every last piece of pain on your target, your target''s family, and your target''s dog you dreamed and planned on, after all. It wasn''t psychopathy or any other mental issue either. She checked on her Character Parchment ¨C if they were, it would show up there. She was totally fine!


    Getting to the KGB head office in Princely Administrative Clan-Neutral Town of Red Elves¡¯ Directorial Committee took her five days, even when she pushed her Endurance to the limit. Getting into the office and finding the correct administrator was in comparison hard. Naturally, she had to provide her identification papers to the guards in front of the compound, then again to the front desk clerk. There she had to explain, why she was there and what she wanted.


    Finally, the clerk handed her a number and told her to wait in the adjacent hall, where she would called up by the right administrator. The hall had the proper yellowish-beige paint over the wooden walls, with a brownish-beige color on the floor, and uncomfortable white wooden benches. The decoration consisted of a few potted plants and heroic epic paintings of the great deeds of Red Elves. There was even a banner reminding her to be a good Red Elf and dispose of the enemies of Elvenkind. Everything was exactly how a proper official Elven office had to be. Shinead approved. As it was proper, she had to wait.


    So she waited.


    And waited.


    She was the only one in the hall, but it still took half a day to be called up.


    ¡°I understand, you want to apply for the leadership of an almost destroyed Clan, right?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I''m the last survivor, and want to continue with the Clan to exact revenge on those un-Elven criminals who disrespected the Domain in such a distasteful way."


    The administrator nodded proudly. She obviously approved Shinead¡¯s zeal to be a proper Red Elf.


    ¡°All right, in order to register you as the official leader, I will need a confirmation that you are the only ranking survivor, your signed passing exams for the courses on Leadership, Organisation, Accident Prevention, and Causing, Elven Laws, Clan Laws, Bureaucracy, Controlling, In-, Ex- and Crossfiltration, Party Organisation, and Composition, as well as¡­"


    The administrator listed a total of twenty-five courses she would have to pass. Fortunately, she had completed a few of them previously but had to authenticate her certificates at a different administrator. Unfortunately, she had lost those certificates with most of her stuff, so had to apply to another administrator for a copy, so she could go to the second administrator for an authentication.


    As it was proper.


    The first administrator also listed about a dozen other confirmations, authentications, permits, and certifications she had to collect.


    It was good to live in the Domain! Shinead couldn''t imagine, how the other species would handle such important things. Without proper parchment trails to follow, what would they do? Simply walk into an office and declare themselves the leaders of their respective organizations. Were they even literate?


    At least in the Domain one did not simply walk into an office!


    As it was proper.


    The courses were not held directly by the KGB Head Office, but by the separate Nevel¨¦si, K¨¦pz¨¦si ¨¦s Vezet¨¦si Divizi¨® in the building next door. There she had to register as a student ¨C for that, she had to go back to the Head Office to get a confirmation, the study is for her appliance for Clan Leadership ¨C and also register for the different courses. Filling out the proper parchment work only took a few hours.


    All in all, it took her only two days to wait for the different administrators to fill out the proper parchments. It was amazing, how well-organized and effective Proper Elven Administration was! In only two days Shinead was well on her way to getting started to become the next Clan Leader!


    Shinead was proud to be an Elf and live in the best possible country of all the multiverses, the Domain.


    Surprisingly, there were only two other students currently enrolled, a middle-aged man, preparing to be the Deputy Clan Leader of a Clan in the South and a KGB administrator for advanced studies. Elves, with their long lifespan and low fertility rates, did not subscribe to mass education, and medium to top level Leaders tended to stay in position for decades or centuries. Not much need for accelerated replacement training.


    So, no school arc for you.


    Normally, completing a course would take about half a year, with a lesson of one and a half hours each week, but Shinead joined in the middle of the summer semester and was pressed for time. She allocated only a few weeks at most for completing all twenty or so courses to herself! With an Intelligence of 14 it should be doable, right? Right!? Right?! Failure was not an option!


    She collected the textbooks and collected information about the expectations. Actually, she only had to pass the exams, not be the best in the class, so even if she just barely passed, she would get the certificates. It still wouldn''t look good on her resume, but she would be able to retake the exams at a later date for better notes. After she dealt with the attackers and got her revenge, she would have time for that, but now she just needed to pass.

 Interlude 3: A red happened to ME?! Part 3

    Shinead, the student, did not have a good time.


    She heard stories about being on the Academy, or in other institutions of higher education, and obviously, it should be about partying, drinking, fooling around, going to a month-long tournament, and generally having a good time. She was stuck with studying a plethora of different subjects, sleeping only a few hours each day, and living on stamina and mental clarity potions.


    It was still barely enough.


    There were a few courses, she was able to complete in short order, every proper Elf knew Elven Laws and Bureaucracy, and every proper Red Elf was at least marginally proficient in Clan Laws and causing accidents. What she had problems with, was Leadership and a few other comparable things. She was, after all, only a junior scout, not a Leader, not even a low-level one ¨C to get promoted to a party or squad leader, she would have to complete a few contracts already and reach Level 10 or so. To become a mission or other mid-level leader, she would have to prove herself by leading multiple successful small-scale accidents and reach an even higher Level.


    She was completely out of her depth.


    There was a ¡°marked deficit¡± in her Skills, as one of the teachers put it. No fast-track course could bridge it.


    But again, she didn''t need to excel but barely pass the exams.


    When the two weeks, Shinead allocated to herself for the studies drew to a close, she was summoned to the NKVD¡¯s dean.


    ¡°I understand, you are pressed for time, but if you push harder, you will fail. Especially in the Leadership and Organisation courses, you look like failing.¡± The dean started.


    ¡°In a few other courses you did remarkably well, but on average, your ratings are abysmal. It''s a disgrace to have a Clan Leader with such superficial knowledge. While it is not unprecedented to have such a young and inexperienced Leader, even those have stayed here for a few years. We checked."


    ¡°What you are doing now, is just prolonging your Clan''s agony. We acknowledge the extraordinary circumstances, but you should know, this was not a unique one. There are precedents for such, and because of them, rules and regulations are in place. We have discussed the issue with the KGB, and have decided on the possibilities.¡±


    ¡°Your first choice, which I would recommend, is to dissolve the Clan and go after the attackers as a private person. The KGB will acknowledge you as an independent hunter, so you would keep at least some benefits of a Clan. If you are successful, we will recommend you to another Clan.¡±


    ¡°The second one is the harder. The Swift Arrow Clan will be listed as a provisional one, and you as the temporary Clan Leader. We will give you a year and a day to make inroads with your revenge, and when you don¡¯t make any meaningful progress, the Clan will be dissolved as the disgracing failure it is and you will be hunted down. If you are successful, you will be obliged to come back to the NKVD and complete the necessary courses to a satisfactory degree. Not just barely pass, mind you. Although there are no rules preventing a single-person Clan ¨C the KGB will rectify this oversight shortly ¨C we both feel letting you lose as a Clan Leader without supervision or help would be a mistake.¡±


    ¡°However, temporary supervision and help is a tricky issue. As you know, leadership positions are for life or till promotion ¨C and having outside influences in your Clan after the probation period is neither allowed, tolerated, nor recommended. You would need supervisors and help that can have unfortunate accidents when they are no longer needed."


    ¡°Another point is, that you have already taken the vows of the Last Survivor and the Eternal Avenger, we would have to make it officially recognized by the System, to get them transformed into Perks. You know what it entails."


    ¡°What if I complete the courses?" Shinead was grasping at straws. The choices weren''t that good. Only getting Perks for the two vows was a huge thing ¨C she wouldn''t be able to rest until the deed was done, and would need to chase the attackers until death and beyond. It was a huge opportunity! An awesome chance! Just because of the two Perks she would be willing to go with the second choice.


    ¡°That is impossible. At least not in the short run. I''m confident, you would be able to complete them, given a year or two, but the grace period for failing Clans would be over till then. Now? You are in very real danger to fail three courses at least, and the failure at the Leadership course is all but official. You have only those two choices, I''ve listed."


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Shinead wasn¡¯t happy with that overly candid opinion. An Intelligence of 14 should be worth more, no? Completing twenty or so courses within two weeks should be possible, after all!


    But, the KGB and the NKVD were right this time. No wonder, it was their job to administrate the Red Clans, and being incompetent and stupid wasn''t included in their job description. Shinead had basically the same papers and found no mention in them allowing for incompetence and stupidity. Dedication to the Domain and the Elven species was included, as was the expectation and obligation to do the job well. Shinead''s job was causing accidents to enemies of Elvenkind, not administrating the Clans, but the difference was only in scale. The job descriptions were standardized after all.


    As it was proper.


    That meant, she had only two choices: getting good on her own and begging for a new Clan, or getting good with the remnants of the Clan, securing the epic poems and painting for the fallen, while tossing some idiots under a chariot after she didn''t need them anymore. It wasn''t much of a question.


    The only problem was, that she knew basically no one outside of the Clan. Save for a Traveller monkey and his perverted cur of a minder. Oh, wait¡­ Perfect!


    ¡°I will choose the second option," she told the dean "I do have two helpers in mind, one of them is the Rabid, the other a Traveller, her current assignment."


    ¡°That¡¯s an¡­ unusual proposal. The monkey I understand, it will be easy to get rid of it, most likely the Little Sisters would take care of him instead of you. But why the Rabid? I would like to hear your reasoning.¡±


    Shinead thought a bit about the reasons but went with her gut feeling.


    ¡°Because she is a perverted cur.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm¡­ I see¡­ Valid reason. Getting rid of a Little Sister wouldn¡¯t be easy, however. How do you plan on it?¡±


    ¡°Accidents happen. Especially when one fights against people who destroyed a Clan.¡±


    ¡°Good answer. Be careful not to be accused of killing another Elf. If possible, fabricate a situation, where she will be seen as a traitor to the Greater Elven Good, so you can dispose of her openly and legally. However, don''t intervene with her investigations yet. We will let the Little Sisters know, she should refrain from disposing of the Traveller for the time being. Also, she should not interfere with your quest."


    After filling out a stack of forms ¨C as it was proper ¨C Shinead was directed to the local Inkmaster to get the prescribed and proper tattoos for her new position. The tears for a lost Clan went below her eye, the broken cross for being the last survivor onto her left cheek, the daggers and crown for being the Clan Leader to her temple, and the Clanbird got color accents befitting the First Hunter.


    Not so visible were the shackles for a confirmed Blood Debt on her wrists, the symbol for Eternal Revenge over her heart, the unstrung bow for her provisional status to her neck, the Flames of Destruction for her commitment to providing the fallen with epic poems and paintings to her right forearm.


    The copper ring on her left eyebrow made it clear, her Clan was of the lowest Rank, and the other copper ring on her right brow was a temporary Rank. The copper pin with a tiny zircon informed everybody in the know about her temporary position in a temporary Clan, albeit with backing from the KGB.


    The two Perks she was promised didn''t materialize as soon as the tattoos were done, but she was informed by the Inkmaster and the Dean that if she was committed, they will arrive after a good night''s sleep. It was fortunate, that Shinead was an Elf, and could build onto the accumulated knowledge of a whole species'' almost fifty thousand years of history, knowledge and experience! Of course, Elves found out around twenty thousand years ago that one could force the System to give out certain Perks ¨C not all and every last one, not even most, but a few. For example, Last Survivor and Eternal Avenger were the ones that were possible to get.


    It wasn¡¯t easy, but it could be done.


    All those other idiotic species just waited and hoped to get one or two passable Perks, with their ¨C probably? Were the other species even literate? - oral tradition and their custom of killing off each other.


    Well, the Elves had some fingers in the last one, it was always a good idea to keep the enemies down.


    No one becomes a continental superpower if he plays nice. Staying a major player ¨C as the Elves were ¨C wasn¡¯t possible either. Well, the Elves were only one of the major players on Fenria, not to say the other continents, but don¡¯t tell that to an Elf. They may kick your teeth out and wear your skin as a jacket.


    Not playing nice is a Species-al Trait or such for Elves.


    Be as it may, Shinead was told how to get two very good Perks, and voil¨¢, the next morning she set out to reconnect with her ¡°Clan Members¡± as the proud owner of said Perks.


    Actually three, but she chose to ignore Backstaber.

 Interlude 3: A red happened to ME?! Part 4

    Shinead Sidhe, provisional Clan Head of the temporary Swift Arrow Clan wasn¡¯t having a good time.


    That perverted extra-Arkadian was indeed building up his harem! Of course, he found a Vampire and a Kobold within the borders of the Domain! Shinead couldn¡¯t even remember when a reptile was last spotted in the East, and that Traveller just happened upon one within a month of arriving! A female reptile, mind you! Probably the only female Vampire ¨C or Vampire of any gender ¨C was now warming his bed!


    Most likely.


    Probably.


    Maybe.


    That other pervert ¨C the Little Sister, that is, it was hard to differentiate between so many depraved perverts around ¨C seemed quite clingy with the Vampire, however.


    They were obviously waiting for a few horses, mules and donkeys to be delivered! That was¡­ sooo¡­ what was the word that went beyond perverted?


    Shinead just shuddered to imagine all those perverted depraved depravities those four were doing all along. All those fangs and long tongues! The tangled limbs and genitals!


    Shinead felt dirty just thinking about all the exercises they were doing without her. Very dirty.


    She needed a bath.


    But she had to settle with the next best thing, interrogation, and light torture. The captured criminal was already tied up excitingly¡­ ehmm¡­ securely, so she should start with a bit of light flogging to show him, who his mistress was. There was probably a candle somewhere too¡­


    She had so many ideas to have some fun with the submissive one¡­ ehmmm¡­ extract information from the captured criminal, but that damned Vampire just had to ¡°help¡± her! The criminal just spilled the beans, lentils, peas, carrots, onions, and every other vegetable there was in a well-stocked farmers market.


    Damn.


    She still needed that bath¡­


    At least she was promised an outlet for the next day: hunting and exterminating! She wasn¡¯t quite sure, how and why that bunch of idiots couldn¡¯t determine what kind of monster they were supposed to hunt. She knew! Not just because she was more or less local, but knew the difference between the two kinds of lizards, where each one lived, and what kind of threat they were. At least the local prince or hunter should have provided that kind of information!


    She was about to complain to the perverts when the Little Sister signaled her to remain silent.


    How DARE she?!?!


    Oh, wait¡­


    Was this some kind of setup for that annoying Traveller? A test? Does he even have a Hunting Licence? Proper identification parchments? Probably not. Shinead somehow forgot to tell him to get the parchmentwork in order.


    Hehehehe.


    This will be so much fun!


    Fun it was, indeed, despite the perverted cur of Little Sister signaling her to let the Traveller take the lead. Shinead tried nonetheless to goad him into some common mistakes (she was prepared to throw his pet reptile under the cart the first chance she got), but he somehow proved to be marginally competent. Almost as if he knew all the cliches of how parties usually fell into traps.


    Burning the field was a nice touch, Shinead approved. One of her superiors did exactly that kind of accident to the fields of one of the Empire¡¯s nobles. It was glorious! There was even a poem ¨C short as it was ¨C and a small painting about that accident! He was immensely proud of the tattoo he got ¨C Flames of Destruction for causing an accident with at least one hundred fatalities with only fire. He was the only one with that tattoo in the whole Clan, and one of only three Shinead knew of elsewhere.


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Even better was the Traveller''s face when he was confronted with the absence and need for proper identification, authorization, and permissions! Well done, perverted Little Sister! If she wasn''t a cur of other races but a proper Red Elf, she would have received a tattoo for that accident!


    While the Traveller was trying to become the drunken pig he already was, and his hangers-on went to do unspeakable and indescribable depraved, perverted things with each other (was the drunken pig planning to join them at a later time or just watch?) without involving her, Shinead retired to her room too. She had some ideas about how to get rid of the Traveller, the Little Sister, and that vulgar bloodsucker already. It involved ropes, whips, and a few other funny¡­ ehmmm¡­ painful implements.


    For now, however, she had a meeting with Mr. Woody. What an irreplaceable and ingenious piece of magical engineering!


    Not long after they started the pursuit of the monkeys that killed her Clan, the very first problem surfaced. Their Traveller failed for some reason to put a leash on his reptile ¨C Shinead could not understand why he kept it around, to begin with, probably because he was a pervert ¨C and was fined in short order. Of course, he started whining and complaining.


    The campground guard was right nonetheless. Dangerous animals should be put on a leash! Or put down, not to endanger innocent residents of the Domain! To be frank, even the Traveller himself should have been put on a leash, gagged, and shackled. So Shinead¡­ ehmm¡­ the Little Sister could parade him around like the good dog he was.


    No constant whining, complaining, voicing his stupidity, and doing only perverted and depraved things when his mistress allowed it. How the Little Sister could tolerate such extra-Arkadians, Shinead could not understand. Their Traveller was supposed to be marginally intelligent ¨C even with the harem, he was obviously building, his constant whining and complaining ¨C what kind of insane dumbasses the other would be?!? Shinead was sure, she would kill them off in short order (maybe after some binding up and whipping and other¡­ stuff), and wouldn''t even make an effort to make it look like an accident.


    Oh, wait, that was exactly what the Little Sisters were normally doing.


    Saving innocent Elves from perverted extra-Arkadians doing idiotic and depraved things.


    Maybe she needed another meeting with Mr. Woody.


    After visiting the next town, she was certain, she needed that meeting.


    The Traveller was ambushed by Glitter Elves! It was¡­ funny! Hilarious! So satisfying! It wasn¡¯t anything special though, the Glitters were just as playful as they usually were, but the Traveller was scandalized for some strange reason. He was whining and complaining about completely normal nakedness, completely normal playfulness, and completely normal toll-paying. He was offended even by the simple fact that Elves had and should have more rights than other species! Why shouldn¡¯t they? They were the oldest species on Arkadia, the most advanced, the most intelligent, the most¡­ everything, basically!


    No monkey, greeny, or reptile could even come close to the greatness of the Domain!


    It even had bureaucracy!


    Aqueducts, sanitation, roads, medicine, education, public baths, safety, order, and peace, the Domain had everything! What did the other species have?


    They were living in dirty hovels without proper roads, no baths (well, they didn''t have a need for personal cleanness, so the absence of baths was understandable), and no real medicine, or education! That village the Traveller bought her to was a good example of the difference! They didn''t even have canalization!


    Elves were just superior.


    That night the perverts ¨C that is the Little Sister and the Vampire ¨C retreated into the bushes to be perverts, leaving the other perverts ¨C that is the Traveller and the reptile ¨C behind to let them be perverts and also leaving Shinead behind. Probably for the Traveller to have his ways with her.


    No chance!


    Shinead volunteered for a patrol to get out of the clutches of all those perverts. She could not wait to finally rid Arkadia of those four. how the times and morals had fallen that the Domain allowed extra-Arkadians to roam its forests freely, curs to work for the Office and Bureau, insane Vampires to enter, and reptiles to exist! It was clear, that the Red Elves had to ramp up the occurrence of an accident.


    That she was forced to work with such undesirables was an affront. What next? Adventurers? Those purchasable mercenaries without any loyalties but to themselves? In the Domain, they were a part of the Agency for Infiltration, Counter-Infiltration, Problem-Solving, Monster-Control, and Active Archeology, and as such, officials, but even so, they had a bad reputation. Shinead heard, that in other states they were just glorified grave robbers, bandits, murderers, and burglars. Why someone would trust such criminals, Shinead simply could not understand. No epic poems, novels, paintings, or statues were ever created about adventurers!


    Working with them? No way. She would rather ask a random Elf standing around in a guest house. Her current underlings weren''t ideal as it were. Ainmire had to be left behind to represent the Clan and ensure at least a minimum for the Clan''s ultimate survival or memory if she failed. The others were¡­ expendables. As soon as their value dropped below the cost of being tolerated, they were as good as dead.


    Shinead only needed to find that cur to have her revenge and the epic art for the fallen.

 Interlude 3: A red happened to ME?! Part 5

    Shinead Sidhe, currently in hot¡­ lukewarm¡­ marginally not-cold pursuit of the filth that killed her Clan, wasn¡¯t having a good time.


    Although they managed to travel around 40-45 kilometers a day, it was still slow going. Without the animals ¨C that included a monkey and a reptile in her definition ¨C she would be able to sustain a much higher tempo.


    Of course, she would be able to, she was an Elf!


    All right, the tempo wasn¡¯t that bad, but the company was. One of the only satisfaction she got out of the trip was that the Traveller was even more uncomfortable than herself. He wasn''t allowed to go into any further settlement, so he would not traumatize innocent Elves. Or so that he doesn''t face reality and start whining and complaining again.


    The other was to abuse the reptile verbally, and when the Traveller wasn''t paying attention a little bit physically. The Traveller still refused to put it on a leash, even after multiple days and a few warnings from the campground guards. Hopefully, it would wander off, and catch an arrow with the face. Well, the Little Sister still refused to put the Traveller on a leash too¡­


    While taking a quick soak in one of the towns, Shinead wondered about why Humans ¨C and Travellers especially ¨C were so obnoxious, perverted, and stupid. Sure, Arkadian Humans were mostly uncultivated peasants, living in mud hovels, dug into the ground, barely intelligent enough to be called sapient creatures. At least they had the decorum to know not to bother their betters (the Elves, that is), and at least they knew the rules, Arkadia was working on.


    The Travellers were just¡­ idiots? Perverts? They were supposed to be from a highly advanced planet full of wonders ¨C so not much different from the Domain ¨C and still, they obviously thought everybody should have Elven Rights (Prof once called it Human Rights, but that just didn''t make sense), even other species! Why would a reptile or a greeny have rights? They did not know any rules, customs, or laws, they just whined and complained non-stop. They just wanted to get into the panties of every female they met (mostly Shinead''s, despite him having a whole harem already) and were open about their desires. They obviously got the wrong ideas about completely normal nakedness.


    Of course, Shinead only knew one Traveller, but there were stories. Most of the stories told about perverts who tried to fornicate with everything, and most of the stories included Travellers, who gave not a damn about the rules and customs of Arkadia and the Domain. All stories warned about Travellers, and how dangerous and stupid they were.


    Although Shinead only knew one Traveller, all the stories were validated.


    Most concerning was his habit of collecting females ¨C and his open ogling of Shinead. That was offensive harassment! No Elf would display his arousal openly, courtship or casual fun had very clear rules to follow and neither drooling nor eyes falling out of one''s head was an accepted form to do it.


    What was the Traveller thinking? Just because he saved her, she would not jump into his bed with all the other females and tangled limbs in a pile of naked flesh, doing depraved, perverted things to and with each other!


    Oh, no!


    Not that Shinead ever saw the Traveller do perverted and depraved fornication with any of the other females, but she was absolutely sure, such fornication was done. He was a male Traveller (everyone knew, what they did), he collected females like trophies, and he was clearly aroused by the proximity of her. Logically, fornication was done in secret, without inviting her to the party! How dare they! Leaving her out! Ehmmm¡­ Those perverts trying to get her too!


    Shinead shuddered in¡­ disgust. Yeah, disgust!


    It was time to continue the chase, and plan some accidents for the underlings forced upon her.


    Getting information from the different Clans, Princes and governmental offices on the way wasn¡¯t hard. She just needed to walk in and ask for an update. Getting useful information was way harder. Sure, she got a headcount on the Humans, including their Levels and some details about their Skills and Perks, but for the curs, details were much scarcer. She got names, and a few tidbits, but nothing like on the Humans. What their ultimate goal was, or who was backing them? Nothing.


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    It was almost like they had an influential backer, who pulled strings and covered the relevant information up. That wasn¡¯t like the Domain worked! Or even supposed to work! No one would protect criminals to this extent, especially, when said criminals were curs!


    No matter what the Little Sister said, it had to be a conspiracy! Someone was working against the Domain to topple the millennia-old legitimate order of things! Who were they? Some lizard people, a secret cabal of magnates, extra-Arkadians? Shinead was determined to find out, uncover the truth and avenge her Clan! It will be glorious! Shinead Sidhe of a small Clan saving the Domain from evil-doers!


    Forget epic poems and paintings! She would get a mythical statue in every town! Legendary legends telling her deeds for generations to come, to educate the little ones in proper Elfdom!


    Luckily, she was able to make inroads in her epic ¨C or was it legendary or even mythical? ¨C quest of getting revenge on the way to the border city, the main band of curs and Humans left the Domain from! A small gang of Humans have split from the main band and thought it was a good idea the find a niche in providing service by turning to banditry. However, it was not an accident, that no one occupied that particular niche ¨C the Domain cracked down on criminals in a swift, and final way. As it should be, the Domain was not some chaotic and lawless place like the Human lands!


    She had to admit, her underlings were at least somewhat competent, even the Traveller and that disgusting reptile. The Traveller had the most problems, for some inexplicable reason he was fixated on [Evade] without raising his [Parry] and [Blocking]. He wasted a lot of energy by evading attacks ¨C without using [Acrobatics]! ¨C if he would have parried or blocked, he would have defeated his enemy much faster. But hey, Humans were stupid, to begin with, and obviously, Travellers only thought about fornicating and building a harem, so what did she expect?


    If he was so fixated on fornicating, maybe he should put a few points into [Sex], no?


    But no, he had these misconceptions of his grandeur, with females to fan his ego, while not even able to kill a bandit. He only knocked his enemy unconscious, leaving the killing to others! What a hypocrite!


    Shinead was surprised, no one told the Traveller yet, how to build a viable Skill-set. Of course, she wouldn¡¯t dispense hard-earned Elven wisdom to a Human, and neither would the Little Sister. But he had a Vampire and a reptile in his harem, and supposedly he spent some time in the Human Lands previously. Someone ought to have had a discussion with him already! Or was he just fornicating the whole time?!?


    After arriving in Deadbranch ¨C even after learning Elven, the Human was not willing to use the proper Elven name, the Vampire didn¡¯t care and the reptile¡­ was still alive ¨C Shinead simply dropped the ¡°party¡± in the worst guest house there was in the city and went to gather information and inform the KGB about her suspicions. They probably already knew, but it was the only way to be sure.


    Strangely, the Traveller found some spine in a gutter and started demanding, that his Elven Masters share to costs for the upcoming expedition. Obviously, the Little Sister was a bad teacher, and failed to make it clear, that the lesser species were there to serve their betters ¨C why should a proper Elf pay for anything, when a Human was there to pay instead of them? The Traveller wasn''t even from Arkadia! What a brazen idea, that some extra-Arkadian was equal to an Arkadian-born a raised Elf! What next? Should Humans get some representation or voting rights in the Domain?!?!


    They should be happy that the Elves allowed them to have their own country, they could more or less govern themselves! Of course, self-governance was only valid until they did something (like questioning their Elven Masters¡¯ right to decide on the policies) that was contrary to Domain¡¯s wishes, the Clans were sent to make the Domain¡¯s position clear on such a matter. If even that wasn¡¯t enough, a team of Black Elves was sent. THAT was mostly enough to get the message through.


    After all, if your ¡°royal¡± family dies to the last handmaiden and your capital is in ruins, even the most thick-headed Human brute will start thinking about fornicating and not pissing their real masters off.


    As it should be.


    That an extra-Arkadian Human demanded shared costs while in the Domain, was simply not done. He should be happy and content to be allowed to walk around without a leash and bask in the presence of superior beings. That is Elves. That obnoxious Traveller should lick her boots, call her Mistress and beg for some playful lashing, not ask for shared costs!


    And then came that perverted cur of Little Sister and agreed! How far the morals have fallen! It was clear, she was seduced by the Traveller¡¯s perverted ways and was trying to lick her way up the harem¡¯s pecking order! Shinead made sure to inform the KGB of the Little Sister being compromised ¨C that way she could later argue about the Little Sister being a traitor to Elvenkind, and making her death legal.


    Her usefulness was nearing the end, as soon as her Clan¡¯s attackers were destroyed, the whole perverted coterie would disappear too!


    Accidents don''t wait for anybody, after all!

 Interlude 3: A red happened to ME?! Part 6

    Shinead Sidhe, the protagonist of future epic poems and paintings, the role model in potential legendary legends wasn''t having a good time.


    The time, when she had a good time (that is, making accidents happen to Humans and curs) should have long arrived, but she was still in the presence of that depraved band of perverts, and haven''t even seen a glimpse of Guillermo''s followers. She wondered, what they were doing. With so many Humans in one place, there was probably a lot of constant fornicating going on! The whole band in a chaotic tangle of limbs¡­? Were the curs participating? Of course, they were! They were part Human, after all!


    Her own band of perverts was surprisingly restrained. Before entering the Valley, Shinead always left them to their own devices for the night, just to be sure, she wasn''t drawn into their unspeakable and very easily imaginable doings. In the Valley, it wasn''t possible anymore, Shinead had to prepare herself for watching the perverts being depraved or even being drawn into the orgy.


    But nothing much happened. The Little Sister and the Vampire were clingy, with the Vampire sometimes looking at her and winking, but the Traveller and the reptile were suspiciously low-key! But they couldn''t fool the provisional Clan Leader of a temporary, but still proper Red Elf Clan! It was just done to make her unprepared for the time, the perversion really started. It was a well-planned plot! A conspiracy!


    Luckily, Shinead was a highly trained operative, and was able the see through the plan easily!


    Were they thinking she was stupid, a Pervert, Na?ve or Oblivious? One look at her Character Parchment, and they would know, she had an Intelligence of 14 and no such Perk! She checked, just to be sure. Or did they believe that hoax about the reputation system?! Even if there was such a system ¨C which there wasn¡¯t, only conspiracy theorists believed in it, it was like Arkadia being flat, there being gods, magic just being highly evolved technology or the sea levels were rising ¨C surely Shinead would have noticed, she was more friendly towards those perverts. Which she definitely wasn¡¯t.


    She had to be vigilant all the time!


    The magical compass she was able to get her hands on was a tricky piece of equipment. It was not ¨C as she made the others believe ¨C tracking Guillermo, but his (or was it hers? She didn''t really understand) ultimate goal in the Valley. In order to track that cur, she would have needed blood or other bodily fluids, but obviously, she could not secure a sample ¨C if she had his blood, he would already be dead, and there would be no need to track him. As for other fluids¡­ If she would be able to get into his bed, he would beg for being bound and lashed, and he would be dead after Shinead had her fun with him¡­ ehmmm¡­ after she tortured him appropriately.


    The ultimate goal was easier to accomplish with the application of the appropriate magic. What that magic was, she didn''t understand, she was a scout and accident-causing specialist, after all, not some magic user.


    She found out, that the cur''s band knew a spell that allowed them to fix the fabric of chaotic space in the Valley, but that meant, they had to travel in real space. Her compass informed her what direction they needed to go to reach the ultimate goal the fastest, by taking advantage precisely of the said chaotic space. Choosing the correct path to reach the goal in the fastest possible way was what the trinket did.


    Nonetheless, it took time to reach the goal. Actually, it was quite quick, but Shinead failed to understand, the precursor ruins were the goal, and she, with a bunch of perverts in tow, wasted a lot of time and precious resources to arrive at the ruins again and again.


    The worst was that she was forced to feed the Vampire blood. Even the idea, that priceless pure Elven blood was going to such a vile creature was repulsive. It was probably a scheme to bring her into the harem too. What were they thinking?! A proud, proper Elf feeding some common leech? The Vampire should have just gone scavenging for rats and drunk them instead, it was the best she deserved! She had similar blood bags with a Human, a cur, and a reptile, why should she get pure Elven blood?!?


    Of course, they tried with obvious lies, like they needed the Vampire¡¯s battle prowess, and they could not leave her to wither away and she was their ¡°friend¡± and ¡°ally¡±.


    Shinead naturally objected.


    The Vampire''s battle prowess they did not need, they needed that of the over-leveled scorpionlizard. The Vampire in herself was just another room-temperature body to throw at their enemies to soak up damage, the real heavy hitter was her mount. Since they did not need her overly much, of course, they could leave her to wither away. If the others thought, they needed her that much, they could feed it themselves, or find some rats to drink. She wasn''t an Elf, after all.


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    She had to simply laugh at the notion, that the Vampire was her "friend". Even the Little Sister was stupid (or brainwashed) enough to forget one of the meanings for "friend": a dupe you can take advantage of by feigning emotional attachment and discarding them when convenient. The Little Sister was supposed to have a Forestean upbringing, and she still forgot the most basic tenet?!? "Ally" was just a synonym for "friend", so dupes ready to be discarded. And again, she was just a Vampire, not an Elf, so Shinead felt no compulsion to help her out.


    Despite her logical and sensible argumentation, the perverts could not understand her reasoning. Well, they weren''t pure-blooded proper Elves, so what did she expect?


    Finally, they managed to press-gang her into being a walking blood bag for the disgusting creature. She was given the choice of participating in the feeding or the others would leave her to her own devices. Of course, those spineless cowards weren''t brave enough to say it out loud, but the meaning was clear: if the Vampire doesn''t get enough blood to have a chance to fight effectively, the perverts would be forced to abort the mission and try to get back out of the Valley.


    Those idiots!


    Getting out of the Valley would mean further fighting and they would die either way!


    However, if they aborted the mission, Shinead would be on her own, and lose the only chance to avenge her Clan! And uncover the conspiracy against Elvenkind! No epic poems and paintings, no exquisite statues, no legendary legends! She would be just a nameless failure.


    So she relented.


    But revenge would be hers! She would take her time in punishing those insolent perverts! They will watch each other die slowly and painfully!


    When she finally realized, the precursor ruins were their final destination (and the useless hanger-ons had enough of aimlessly wandering the Valley), they were basically out of potions and similar items. Shinead hid a few, and suspected, the others had some left too, but those were the absolute emergency reserve. No one would admit, they had any left, or would ask others for their non-existent stuff.


    Save for that idiotic Traveller.


    Obviously, he used every last potion he had, even on the reptile, and was now expecting the others to share their emergency reserve. Of course, no one admitted to having any left.


    Shinead suspected they haven''t prepared correctly for a long expedition. It was the fault of the stingy Traveller, though. He still had money, he could have equipped the expedition better. But nooooo, he was just complaining and whining. Again.


    Interestingly, just when they decided to stay at the ruins, Guillermo''s band also arrived. It was timed like in a bad novel, convenient enough so the protagonist didn''t need to sit idle for an undetermined time. But it was reality, not bad fiction, dreamed up by some bored office worker in another universe. That would be just ridiculous! Sometimes, the reality was just convenient.


    Not that it was important, but Guillermo lost a good part of his band too; what was left was only double the number of Shinead''s "party". More enemies meant more glory and a higher chance that the undesirables were removed from the rosters. Without Shinead doing anything. It was perfect! Revenge, glory, and epic poems, all in one!


    That is until that insufferable Little Sister ruined everything.


    Instead of being a good little cop and dispatching criminals, no matter what ¨C exactly what she was known for! ¨C or a good little minion and killing criminals ¨C what she agreed to do for the Clan, more or less ¨C she took the side of said criminals! Of course, no surprise there, Guillermo was a cur, and so were his minions. Curs stuck together; they were like the Humans they descended from, conspiring against their betters.


    She even tried to invoke her rights as a Little Sister to roll over Shinead! She only forgot, that outside of the Domain, an active revenge plot of a Clan trumped the jurisdiction of the Little Sisters! Ha! Shinead was in the right, and could now make an accident happen to her legally, even if she survived the upcoming battle! There was a silver lining in everything!


    That is until the disgusting Traveller showed his true colors and jumped her in the middle of the discussion! Obviously, he wanted to do some pre-battle fornication! That was low even for a Human! Shinead hasn''t heard about Arkadian Humans doing such a thing. All the warnings against Travellers were fully justified!


    She would apply all those techniques, she was fantasying about¡­ ehmm¡­ planning for the last few months, and even more! As far as Shinead was concerned, the blood debt expired long ago, since she saved him from accidents every other minute since they left Willowflower. The argumentation was valid ¨C she checked with the KGB and NKVD previously ¨C even if those accidents would have been caused by herself.


    Her indignation and fantasies were cut short by that traitor of Little Sister putting her to sleep.


    *An undetermined time later.*


    Shinead Sidhe, Eternal Avenger was finally having a good time. NOW she had the means for an act of exhaustive revenge. She would kill every last participant in the attack on her Clan or in the conspiracy that lead her into the Valley, everyone who belittled her or gave her offense. Accidents were going to happen!


    And she will start with that perverted Traveller and his harem of miscreants.

 Chapter 10: Showdown at the OK Ruins, Part 1

    Well, the situation went to shit even faster than Prof feared.


    Mini probably had a reason for shooting Foxy in the back twice, same as Foxy probably had a reason to start a discussion with the one Elf they were chasing for how long? Not that any of those mattered, they were thrust into a battle against a stronger foe. Prof just hoped, the other Humans would side with them and not their former masters.


    At the same time Mini shot Foxy, Sharpclaw also made her presence known. Since her first attack was from stealth and the back, the damage was five times higher ¨C if Prof remembered the math correctly than normally. She made absolutely sure and triple-tapped her enemy. Maybe even the first attack would have been enough, but with the two further stabs, the Grey Elf left for eternal hunting grounds. Or forest or boot camp or wherever Elves went.


    Not that Prof had time to contemplate metaphysical questions of Elven spiritual transcendence, he had to engage with the duellist female. More likely defend against her, it was all he could do. Again. It was getting boring. He was a DPS warrior, not a Tank! Then again, the most versatile spell in all gaming history, Autosave, was not enabled on Arkadia, if he died, it was the end of the game for him.


    If he survived the whole ordeal in the Valley, he would have to do something against being continuously outclassed by nearly everyone. Well, Levels would certainly help. And a few Perks, and Skills. Maybe some better gear.


    While Prof occupied the duellist, Mini exchanged bolts and arrows with the bow-wielding female, Binky was chasing the shifty-looking Grey Elf and Guillermo started slaughtering his Humans. Sharpclaw was nowhere to be seen.


    Not that Prof had time to survey the battlefield in detail or have a nice meal while fighting.


    No matter how good he evaded, the duellist still managed to land a few hits, while Prof only managed but one. Even that was just a slap on the wrist. This time it was Sharpclaw who saved him ¨C with a well-placed backstab. The duellist didn¡¯t die, but the surprise attack gave Prof an opening to knock her unconscious.


    Looking around, Prof took stock of the battlefield. The Grey Elf archer was dead, with a crossbow bolt sticking out of her head ¨C headshot! Mini, on the other hand, was decorated with a few arrows too. Being technically dead had its good parts ¨C for example not being allergic to an arrow sticking out of one¡¯s lung. And tight. Probably she will need some feeding later, though.


    Binky was peacefully munching on something that was probably not too long ago a shifty-looking Grey Elf.


    From the Human mercenaries only the large fellow was still standing, everyone else was lying in heaps, dead or dying. Guillermo was a dangerous enemy, maybe more deadly than the other Grey Elves combined. Prof tried to observe him, but the return gave nothing concrete. Probably higher Level than 10, maybe even higher than 15. He could be even above Level 20. How would they defeat such a foe?


    Oh, Binky.


    Nothing better than to sic the overpowered pet of your friend on the stalker in the neighborhood. Prof tried just that. Tried was the keyword.


    ¡°Binky, bite!¡± ¡°Binky, attack!¡±, ¡°Hello, nice boy! Eat that Elf!¡±, ¡°Stupid dinosaur! Fetch!¡±


    Nothing worked. Either Prof''s [Taming] was too low, or Binky didn''t understand Bergian. Or didn''t give a shit. Most probably the last, most dogs were the same: you gave them something to munch on, and the burglar could enter the house without a care in the world. Well, Binky was almost like a dog. He had four legs, a tail, and a head with sharp teeth ¨C enough of a similarity, no?


    Next idea. Someone had to occupy Guillermo till Sharpclaw did another assassination or Mini headshot him. Prof looked around for a volunteer. Yeah, right, they were fresh out of those.


    What else?


    ¡°Prof, what are you waiting for? Get there! I will send Binky too.¡± Mini finished pulling out the arrows and took command. Fantastic, Prof was now the volunteer¡­ Yeah, send the transmigrated Central European guy to die gloriously for his masters! Go, wash my dishes, bitch! Almost like at home.


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    Prof steeled his resolve and entered the fray. More precisely, he evaded Guillermo¡¯s attacks, without even trying to attack ¨C it was not about survival of the fittest, but that of the guy with the most friends still standing. Including an overleveled Scorpionlizard. Prof just needed to stay alive till Binky ate the Grey Elf.


    The last mercenary obviously wasn''t so versed in the intricacies of pseudo-Darwinian survival. He removed himself from the gene pool in short order by attacking Guillermo without holding back all that much. He still managed to evade, parry or block a lot of attacks, so he was probably a high Level himself, but in the end, he joined his party members on the ground. Dead. Missing a head usually guarantees a quick and assured death.


    Maybe not with the undead, though. Prof needed to ask Mini about that.


    With the large fellow dead, Guillermo''s attention shifted fully to Prof. Despite his high [Evade] the first attack connected and shaved thirty HP off, going through his armor like butter. With the previous battle, Prof was already well below 50%. One or two such hits and he would be dead! No surprise, that the mercenaries were defeated so quickly if even Prof with his high Skill and expensive gear was so outclassed.


    Sharpclaw tried an assassination but was noticed ¨C how Guillermo managed that, Prof couldn''t fathom ¨C and was summarily kicked away. But, where was the relief force, consisting of Mini and Binky, the world wondered. Well, the world didn''t wonder, probably no one knew what was going on, or gave a damn about a turkey trotting the water, but Prof did. It was about survival!


    Guillermo landed the next hit, no matter what Prof did. Another thirty-two HP was gone. With all of his, and everyone else''s potions gone, he had no way to replenish his health. It was do or die now.


    ¡°Yeeeee-Haaaa!¡± the cavalry had arrived.


    Literally.


    Mini was riding Binky with her saber held horizontally and grinning like crazy. Well, she was crazy, even her Character Parchment told everyone so. It was still a sight, seeing a chick riding into battle on a huge lizard! Prof hoped, he remembered the sight till he managed to get [Art: Drawing] and [Art: Painting] to a high enough level. This was the only thing he missed from Earth: being able to take pictures whenever he wanted.


    Obviously, he could not take pictures while being in mortal danger, but the thought was what counted.


    Guillermo was able to dodge the barrelling lizard, but that put him in the direct trajectory of a vampire. Still, he was able to parry her saber. Even that wasn''t enough not to get his face full of angry ¨C and possibly hungry ¨C vampire. Mini let go of her weapon and attached herself to the Grey Elf''s neck, fangs first. Guillermo let a little girly scream fly and tried to stab Mini in the back with his dagger. He let go of his axe to try to pry her loose too.


    Prof couldn''t really attack the Elf with Mini in the way, but he at least could prevent any stabbing from happening. Obviously, not stabbing with fangs in the neck, but with a dagger in the back. At least that happening to Mini. He very much hoped, there would be stabbing in the back happening by Sharpclaw soon.


    His very first tries to divert the dagger weren¡¯t all that successful, he almost hit Mini instead, so he settled on dropping his weapons and grabbing the arm.


    Who would have guessed, that his [Hand-to-Hand Combat] didn''t cover grabbing, grappling, and wrestling? Well, there was a Skill for that too, named [Wrestling], in which Prof had exactly 32%...


    He realized his mistake ¨C but not the reason for being unable to grab the arm ¨C relatively fast, and altered his plans. Now, instead of trying to grab the arm and wrestle with the Grey Elf, he resorted to punching and kicking. He didn''t do much damage this way, but at least disturbed Guillermo enough that he couldn''t concentrate on stabbing. Much.


    While Mini and Prof piled on the Grey Elf, Binky slowed down, tuned, and finally munched down on the Elf''s left leg. It was most likely a Critical Hit since the leg came loose from the hip downward. Guillermo fell down, pinning Mini beneath him, and that allowed Prof to start kicking him in the head.


    Sharpclaw limped back too and unceremoniously stabbed the Elf in the back.


    The battle was won.


    ¡°Hey, Prof, next time don¡¯t kick the guy in the head I¡¯m feeding on! I think, one of my teeth came loose! And see, my mouth got bruised!¡±


    Yeah, next time when they are fighting a pitched battle, Prof promised to let Mini have a nice meal in peace. Maybe he should provide a blanket too, to have the real picnic feel? Because why not ¨C in games you could eat a whole five-course dinner while fighting dragons. If it worked in games, why not in reality?


    Oh, wait, reality is not a game¡­


    Looking around the battlefield, only three others were still alive: Shinead, the duellist, and the only female in the mercenary band. Prof mentally deleted the duellist from the list, she wouldn''t survive much longer. Either someone ate, or just killed her. The female mercenary was questionable, Shinead would kill her most likely, but she fought for them in the end.


    Surprisingly it was Mini who decided on the matter; she found a potion somewhere and fed it to the mercenary. Sharpclaw also took matters into her claws, and while Prof checked on the mercenary, she executed the Red Elf before Prof could do anything.


    ¡°Why have you done that?!?!¡±

 Chapter 10: Showdown at the OK Ruins, Part 2

    ¡°Elf missssusss bad! Led missster into trap! Bad trapssssnifff!¡±


    ¡°She is right, though." Mini interjected while eyeing the duellist "Your little Elf meant trouble in the long run. Or even in the short term. You do realize, that she hated your guts? As soon as the Blood Debt was paid, she would have killed you and would have made a jacket out of your skin. Not necessarily in this order. With Foxy dead, no one would keep her in check."


    ¡°What has Foxy to do with this? What was all this about anyways?¡± Prof was perplexed


    ¡°Oh, she didn¡¯t tell you, I forgot. Well, she was working for the Bureau of Extra-Arkadian Affairs, or whatever the Elves call it. Her job was to keep an eye on you, test and observe you, and if you were deemed a threat to the Domain or Arkadia ¨C for the Elves it¡¯s the same ¨C make sure, you get a shallow grave. She kept Shinead quiet since you met.¡±


    ¡°As for this farce, Guillermo and his little friends were hired by someone in the Domain to recreate a ritual that made the Valley. They wanted to surround the Domain with it, no matter how many Humans, Greenskins, or Foresteans died in the attempt. Which would be many, if I heard right. As soon as it was about the Greater Elven Good, Foxy was on board, she was a proper Elf, despite everything. So, be a good boy, and start looting, corpses don''t rob themselves, only others. Shoo. I will have dessert now, she looks quite sweet."


    They needed to talk further after calming down. Oh, and the exclamation mark started blinking too ¨C time for the next Level Up! It was time. But first, it was time for the most basic activity in any fantasy setting: plundering your vanquished foes!


    Prof decided to start the looting with the Elves, leaving the mercenaries for later, when the female was conscious again. Foxy and Shinead he wanted to leave out of robbing, despite feeling betrayed, he considered them friends. Kind of. Sharpclaw obviously didn¡¯t feel that attachment, and happily started to rummage through their things.


    What was adventuring all about? Killing things, robbing graves, and plundering every fallen foe or friend. In that regard, Prof could be considered a true Adventurer at this point. However, it was the first time he had to liberate stuff from friends and allies.


    It was disgusting.


    Of course, when you were in the middle of nowhere, without any reliable means to resupply, the stuff your enemies, allies, and friends provided, could mean the difference between life and death. He could rationalize, that neither Foxy nor Shinead needed their stuff anymore, and would be happy to provide them to the rest of the party to give them a chance to survive. Probably. Maybe. Possibly.


    Anyways¡­


    He started with the archer. The bow he valued at around twenty silver, more than his two axes combined! It was a very nice piece of gear indeed, a composite reflex bow, covered in buckskin (it was probably buckskin), with the nocks spotting intricate carvings of some birds. He tried it a few times, and it was surprisingly easy to draw. He did try archery a few times back on Earth, and he could tell from that experience alone, that this one was indeed a very high-end one. Even if it was a bit short for him. Unfortunately, no one could use it, with how low everyone''s Skill in [Bows] was.


    The surviving arrows were of good make too, with barbed tips made of high-quality steel and good-quality wood. The quiver for holding them was made of high-quality leather, with complex hunting and battle scenes etched into it. That piece of gear cost around two silver in itself, not counting the arrows.


    Besides a few low-grade HP potions, a bit of cash, and the usual knick-knacks one hauled around the only interesting thing on her was a silver medal. A magical medal. Which they had no chance to identify now, with Foxy passing away¡­


    The dark-colored Elf had a large collection of weapons, unfortunately, most of them of middling quality, with even a few bad ones mixed in. Discounting those, the whole armory was valued at less than twenty silver, probably as low as fifteen. The boots, however, were good ones, and luckily the same size Prof had. Since his own boots started to show signs of use and were on the brink of starting to fall apart, he decided to keep the new ones. After using a disinfectant on them.


    The Elf did not have anything else valuable on him. Her. Whatever. The corpse was indeed a hermaphrodite.


    The shifty-looking one was badly chewed on, with most of his torso already gone. Including everything he kept there. Binky was however a well-trained chewing machine and left the hands intact. Or hadn''t had time to eat those too.


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    Of the four rings, two were normal ones, one gold, the other some other shiny metal, with a combined value of around two silver, and the other two were magical. As was an intricately decorated dagger he found near the corpse. Again, no one around to identify them¡­


    Prof didn''t really want to shift through the detritus that not so long ago was an Elf, so he just poked around a bit. His Scavenger Perk luckily activated, and he found a purse beneath a bush next to Shifty Elf. It contained a mix of different currencies, the Bergian and Elven ones he could recognize, but there were at least four or five other kinds too. The known pieces added up to almost ten silver, for the rest he would need professional help ¨C to tell him which country they belonged to, and what the current exchange rates were.


    That left Guillermo and the duellist ¨C but with Mini contently sitting next to the corpse while examining the loot told Prof that he should continue with the leader.


    That was where the jackpot was hidden.


    The bow and corresponding gear weren''t as good as the archer''s but still added up to twelve silver, including the arrows. However, both of his melee weapons were magical! As was a pendant, two rings, and his belt. He had a messenger bag of holding too, which Prof could not access; there was some kind of magical lock on it. Prof suspected every interesting (and valuable) thing was kept in the bag since he did not find anything else on his person. Guillermo''s armor was thoroughly ruined ¨C it was a pity. It was high quality and most likely magical. Once upon a time, before something ripped off a leg and someone went stabby on the back. Not anymore, though.


    Bad people! Don''t they realize, how expensive good armor was?!?!


    Being finished with redistributing wealth from the dead to living people, Prof regrouped with Mini and Sharpclaw next to the dead and thoroughly looted duellist.


    ¡°Look, what I found!¡± the vampire greeted them. Arrayed before were the possessions of the duellist. Prof dumped the other loot next to Mini and started to rummage through the stuff.


    Neither the rapier nor the dagger was magical, but high quality and valuable. The dagger alone cost around fifteen silver, the parrying dagger five or six. There were magical and two mundane golden rings, a golden necklace with sapphires, and a silver hair clip too, the four combined cost ten silver or so total. The ornate belt Prof noticed earlier was, of course magical. A purse held around twelve silver worth of Bergian and Elven currency, plus an unknown amount of an unidentified kind.


    ¡°Those are Gerulian coins." Mini informed him "I see, you found some too. Let''s see¡­ If I remember the rates correctly, those could be exchanged for around eight or so Bergian silver in total. The Foresteans here would go for only two, but for the Imperial ones and the Lizards¡­ I don''t know."


    ¡°Lizzzzard coinssss enough to buy ten mealsssss.¡± Sharpclaw informed them. Ok, but what quality? Where? What meal? Depending on the exact meal and place, the coins could have a value of anything between ten to a hundred copper. Didn¡¯t matter much, they were nowhere near Lizard territory.


    Sharpclaw also presented her findings on Foxy and Shinead. Prof still had qualms about repossessing stuff from their previous companions, but Mini obviously didn''t care that much. First, she handed Foxy''s wrist claws over ¨C much to Prof''s surprise, they were magical. Hasn''t she said, she had no magical weapons?


    From the belly bag of holding, he was presented with the loot from the track through the Valley, but also half-a-dozen potions (again, haven''t they used up all theirs previously?), an official-looking badge, and Foxy''s identification papers. Prof read them, and indeed, Foxy was an internal security officer of some sort, with an open order for everyone to cooperate with her. There was also a palm-sized picture of a slightly pale-looking girl.


    The money, a bit more than one gold worth of Elven currency he could recognize, as the collected logs from Guillermo¡¯s expedition, but the around a dozen different magical thingies¡­ He had absolutely no idea what they were for.


    All in all, the bag was less, than half full ¨C instead of being bursting full as Foxy claimed.


    ¡°Probably tracking, communication, surveillance, and verifying gear." Mini took a look too. "They are valuable, so we could sell them! However, we can''t use them right now, and they could lead to questions, neither of us would want to answer. But again, think about the money!"


    Yeah, totally going to happen. Walking around with¡­ "found" government stuff and trying to sell it was obviously never a good idea, no matter if on Earth, or Arkadia. Governments tended to ask questions along the line of where exactly did you find the stuff and what happened to the previous owner. "Just found them lying around" was not an answer most agencies accepted at face value. The stuff was got to be left behind. Buried.


    The earrings and rings Foxy got as part of her loot previously, were at least known items.


    Prof turned to Shinead¡¯s stuff. He was still unable to put a value to the family dagger, and her archery gear was nothing to write home about ¨C less than eight silver for everything. The piercings and earrings weren¡¯t magical, but normal metal, but Mini warned him, that those were Clan insignia, and he should be careful selling them. Prof decided to leave them with Shinead. The magical compass went into the left-behind pile too, it was more or less Clan property, so probably trackable. Without identifying it first, it was useless to them and it was too dangerous to carry around Clan or government property.


    Of course, most of her gear ¨C and Foxy¡¯s too ¨C was still packed up on their last beast of burden.


    To be sure, Mini sent Sharpclaw to fetch it. Shouldn¡¯t Guillermo¡¯s band have some too, Prof thought?

 Chapter 10: Showdown at the OK Ruins, Part 3

    ¡°Good, the chick looks like she¡¯s conscious again¡± Mini observed before they could go through their fallen friend¡¯s remaining stuff ¡°Let¡¯s have a talk.¡±


    Calling the female mercenary a "chick" was a bit of a stretch. Prof pegged her as only a few years younger than Mini ¨C and was of a high enough Level to survive an expedition through the Valley (so far) and a battle against Guillermo. Or lucky enough.


    The mercenary in question was sitting in the middle of her previous companion''s corpses, looking a bit lost. Being lost wasn''t really surprising, though. She was currently somewhere in the Valley of Torment, which was the very definition of getting lost, she was basically alone, and the only other people around were complete strangers.


    ¡°Hello, my name is Prof, she is Mini and the Kobold over there is Sharpclaw¡± Prof introduced themselves. It was never a bad idea to be polite.


    ¡°Talpas Bianca Valdezze from Camporosso, at your service¡± she made a motion with her right hand that could be understood as a half-hearted salute. ¡°What was this all about? What should we do now?¡±


    At least she spoke Bergian, although with a very heavy accent that made her very hard to understand. She had shoulder-length brown hair, brown eyes, and tan skin. She had a fit body ¨C yeah, being a mercenary probably does that to you ¨C and Prof was somehow reminded of a mix between a Warrior Princess and a War Trucker.


    Except for wearing more clothes and having two hands.


    ¡°Well, the short version is that the Elves wanted to kill everyone else, honey, but you probably had it figured out too¡± Mini clarified


    ¡°Yes, we had that distinct impression. As long as we were still in Elff?lde, the leader at least tried to present a face, but after entering the Valley¡­ Well, a good part of our losses were due to the Elves, they retaliated to every perceived slight violently.¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t try to rebel?¡±


    ¡°Some tried, and there was a battle. The Elves won¡­ You have seen, what the leader was capable of, and that dark-skinned one was even worse. We had no choice. Even if we deserted, where would we go? We are in the Valley.¡±


    Prof and Mini interrogated her in the next hour, but with both of them having a low [Interrogation] and [Investigation], they weren''t very successful. Bianca showed them her Character Parchment and told them what she knew. She was a Level 10 "Normal", geared towards fighting Skills and with quite a few good, albeit cheap Perks.


    She was hard to knock down, got a bit of an armor rating, especially when she was near death, and wearing heavy armor didn''t hinder her in any way. With her high Skill in [Shield] and [Blocking], she was the perfect meat shield¡­ ehmm¡­ tank to protect the others. Prof was wasted as a defensive fighter.


    On the other hand¡­ Ice Queen, yeah, she probably would get a few cats for her old age. Another negative Perk made sure, she would never open locks, probably not even with the correct key ¨C her [Lockpicking] sat at -6%...


    She was from Camporosso (Bianca told him, the meaning was Redcamp, there was a Bluecamp, a Yellowcamp, a Greencamp, and a few other Colourcamps too. Why was everyone so hung up on color-coding everything?!), a Gerulian state, and was contracted indirectly through a mercenary broker to secure an expedition into the Valley of Torment. The first indication that something was fishy was the attack on the Red Elf Clan, but they were assured that it was legal and sanctioned. Even so, people started to desert.


    When the rest of the company reached the Valley and it was too late to play morning mist and disappear, it started to become clear, the Elves were planning something big. Something big that not necessarily meant the survival of the Human mercenaries.


    First, there was just grumbling, but after a few days and some losses due to animals and disappearances, the most vocal mercenary captains confronted the Elves about the whole issue.


    Their corpses were presented to the rest of the mercenary band, and they were told in no uncertain terms that they should shut up and listen to their Elven masters. It worked for another few days, but after a pitched battle against a large pack of what Prof identified as certain dinosaurs with characteristic claws, the discontent finally boiled over into open revolt.


    The outcome was as expected: the Elves held themselves back previously, sending the mercenaries to the front, tiring themselves out. From around eighty mercenaries only twenty or so survived, even if they managed to kill a dozen Elves. The survivors were cowed into submission.


    Worse, about half their beast of burden fell or ran away during the fight, taking all their tents and camping gear with them. Half of the food went missing too, but with so few survivors, there was still enough left.


    A few days later the remains of the expedition found a settlement, inhabited by Elves, Humans, and Greenskins. Only Guillermo and the duellist were allowed near the walls; Bianca had no idea, what was discussed. Less than an hour later they left in a hurry.


    During the time till they arrived at the clearing with the ruins, they lost everybody else, leaving just five Humans and Elves each, plus six mules ¨C those were parked next to the clearing.


    ¡°But, if they are next to the clearing and not on the clearing, they could be anywhere in the Valley!¡±


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    ¡°The Elves had cast a spell, I don¡¯t know the details, but obviously it fixed the space or something. It should be good for another few hours or so.¡±


    ¡°Sharpclaw, please retrieve them!¡± Prof directed the Kobold


    ¡°WAIT!¡± Bianca shouted ¡°You don¡¯t have the spell cast on you, you will go missing! Wait here, I will bring them here.¡±


    That was a good save, he almost caused Sharpclaw to go missing. Of course, they just sent a complete stranger to retrieve the mules and the associated gear. Well, hopefully, she had enough sense not to try her luck alone in the Valley.


    Meanwhile, Prof and Mini took a look at their stowed inheritance.


    The remaining clothing wasn¡¯t much, both in quality and quantity. The only better piece was a magical polka-dotted bandana (the classical white on red) from Foxy¡¯s stash. Despite not knowing what it did, Mini appropriated it. A shirt from Shinead went to Sharplaw ¨C because of the height difference, it went down to her hip.


    A leather folder held the personal papers of Shinead ¨C permits, licenses, identification papers ¨C shifting through all of them, Prof failed to learn much, only that she was only twenty years of age. Prof realized, in all the time together he never looked at Shinead''s Character Parchment. The folder, decorated with the Clan''s coat of arms, went into the pile he wanted to leave behind.


    Two pouches held the rest of the girl''s money, four gold worth of assorted money, mostly Elven ones, but also some Bergian coins. The rest consisted of some personal effects, including a magical¡­ well¡­ dildo. Prof was shocked. It was one thing that Earth had smart vibrators (did they count the number of thrusts or what?! Prof didn''t really want to know) but for a fantasy world to have something like that¡­ On the other hand, if there was a need, there probably was a provider. Why not for recreational stuff?


    ¡°Oh, I know what that does! Give!¡± Of course, Mini was wide-eyed, her hands slightly trembling. Prof handed the epic magical device over without further questions, only hoping, the vampire wouldn¡¯t use it right there and then.


    He wasn¡¯t that lucky¡­


    With the fabric of reality in the Valley¡­ not doing as it should, Prof had only a limited space to relocate.


    When Bianca came back with the mules, she just stared at the Vampire with wide eyes, blushing as if her life depended on it. Finally, she averted her eyes, and reported to Prof, staring at the ground, trying very hard not to hear the noises. Oh yeah, she was a Prude. Was Mini doing stuff just to scandalize?


    ¡°These three have the Elves'' stuff, these two have the remaining food and the last one was for us Humans." she clarified the cargo.


    ¡°Thank you. We didn¡¯t touch your comrades, you can do what you want with them. Also, the mule with the mercenary stuff is yours too.¡± Prof didn¡¯t know how to give her freedom in looting her erstwhile buddies and what the usual rules were. Since neither Mini nor Sharpclaw had any problems with inheriting from Shinead and Foxy, there were no real problems with it. Probably. Maybe. Mini was after all¡­ challenged¡­ and Sharpclaw obviously hated both.


    Pushing the philosophical-economical questions of robbing the corpses of your friends back, Prof turned to the three mules carrying the Elves¡¯ stuff, waiting to be plundered. According to Bianca, at least a dozen Elves died during the expedition, and most of their stuff was kept ¨C that translated into Good Loot!


    Well, if Prof expected a shopping mall worth of stuff, including a well-stocked fantasy weapon shop, he was sorely disappointed. Obviously, three mules could not transport a few semi-trailers worth of goods, and the surviving Elves only took the more expensive ¨C or expensive-looking ¨C items. The fifteen bags ¨C each with a name tag ¨C nevertheless contained a nice selection of jewelry, weapons, armor, and clothing, plus some personal effects, some of them Prof pegged as important for the deceased''s family since they had minimal retail value. There were some¡­ cosmetics included too, Prof was prepared to throw them away, but Mini stopped him.


    ¡°That is expensive stuff, I know some of the manufacturer¡¯s names! Give!¡±


    Fine, obviously Arkadia had a cosmetics industry and the party happened on Channel Nr. 5 and¡­ well, Prof didn''t know any other big-name cosmetics. Why was someone lugging cosmetics around, to begin with?!


    About one item per bag was magical, either a piece of clothing, a weapon, or jewelry ¨C unfortunately, no one was able to identify them, so they went into a pile with the other currently useless, potentially game-changing magical knick-knacks. No one was stupid enough to equip or play with unknown magical items.


    The non-magical pieces of clothing were summarily discarded, for some strange reason clothing on Arkadia did not resize for the new owner, probably because of a conspiracy of the world''s tailors who wanted to keep their business. There were only a few pieces Prof was willing and able to wear, and even Mini found nothing interesting. Prof saw no reason to drag the whole collection of used clothing back to civilization but was willing to offer Bianca a chance to go through the pile herself.


    The collection of armor was a mixed bunch, of durable cloth, leather, and only a few pieces of metal, obviously, the Elves were not really fond of metal armor ¨C or at least the dead Elves were not fond of such. Maybe it was a kind of Darwinian Selection: you were not fond of heavy armor so you died with a higher probability. Of course, Prof also only wore leather and managed to survive a couple of months even so¡­


    Prof used [Valuation] on everything, and selected about half the pieces as worth the effort to bring them along, the rest went into the left-behind pile.


    In contrast, the weapons all looked expensive enough to transport to the nearest armament dealer in order to do some commerce. There was a selection of knives and swords, with a few bows and crossbows interspersed, and even a tricky mace that had small vents that could spray the enemy with some concoction. Get maced, right?


    The jewelry was judged as worthy of further transportation without much ado. Prof already kept a smallish collection of non-monetary assets, the new plunder set him on the road to open a shop anytime he wanted. Even if he owned only a third of the new items.


    All in all, Prof estimated the value of everything on the mules they wanted to keep as about twenty gold ¨C or two-hundred thousand Euro or Dollars! Not even counting the magical stuff!


    Interestingly, there was no loose change in the bag, only a note on the name tag, about how much money the former owner possessed. Added together it should have been another eight gold or so, depending on how correctly Prof managed to apply the exchange rates.


    Prof was happy. He managed to plunder the equivalent of one year''s salary on Earth while doing nothing much (just surviving mortal danger). Arkadia was fantastic!


    He just needed to get back to civilization to enjoy the wealth.

 Chapter 10: Showdown at the OK Ruins, Part 4

    Before Prof had his talk with Mini ¨C well, she had to finish with her new magical toy anyways ¨C he decided to distribute his free Skill Points. He didn¡¯t expect to get a new Perk, they were an exception on Arkadia, not the rule. However, there was one waiting for him.


    <u>Attention!</u>


    Because you have reached Level 5 while constantly battling sapients, animals, and dungeons without killing any sapient creature, you have been gifted with the Perk Captor. From now on sapient enemies will have a higher chance to surrender and will not fight to their last breath!


    Prof needed a few minutes to come to the realization, that indeed, he did not kill any sapient creature in any of the fights he participated in. Every last casualty was due to his party members ¨C although he captured a few people and those died horribly not much later, the deed was always done by someone else.


    It''s nice to have someone to do the dirty work so one could enjoy the perks ¨C like back on Earth, countries outsourced dirty industry to other countries just so they could tell everybody how green they were. Well, Prof outsourced murder ¨C did that make his party members Central Europeans too?


    As for his Skill Points, Prof did plan out his advance a long time ago, so he finished in a short time. 25% each went into [Valuation] and [Looting], and 30% into [Commerce]. As long as he was in the Domain, he planned to put the rest into some social Skills, but he was done with the Elves for the foreseeable future, so he had a bit to spare. He decided to put everything else into [Observe], to be done with it.


    His Skills started to look a bit more rounded, it was time to invest in some hobby now ¨C [Art: Drawing] and [Art: Painting] would probably finally get the attention they deserved. A few Levels, even if he spread some Skill Points around, would be enough to start making memorabilia.


    Prof still had to wait for Mini to finish ¨C an Endurance of 18 was good for a lot of things, obviously ¨C so he directed Bianca to the discarded piles with the implication, she could keep what she liked.


    ¡°So, Prof, what did you want to talk about?¡± Mini asked after a time that felt definitely too long.


    ¡°Well, Shinead and Foxy. And why they had to die. I do think you two overreacted a bit with that. And what about this about Foxy being some secret agent? Why did no one tell me previously?"


    ¡°Stop whining, Prof. First of all, Arkadia tends to have a marked influx of people from the larger Multiverse, and with all the problems they are causing, most species, civilizations, and cultures have some kind of organization to watch out for you Travellers. The Elves are not even the most diligent and strict in this sense, as far as I know. Of course, a large part of the Travellers get themselves killed in short order, obviously, they are either utter morons, think, Arkadia is just some game with unlimited life, or have some delusions of being some kind of summoned hero."


    ¡°You seem to know a lot of this. Are you a secret agent too?¡±


    ¡°Me? No. At least not the kind Foxy was. I¡¯m technically nobility at home, so I have to look out for dangers to my Estate. That could include Travellers, but they tend to have an even shorter lifespan in Forestdeep. If they can make a home for themselves, they are welcome, the same as everyone else.¡±


    ¡°So, you are not watching me?¡±


    ¡°No. I don¡¯t care either way.¡±


    ¡°Ok, back to Foxy. What was she trying to accomplish, and why keep it a secret?¡±


    ¡°You probably realized already, Elves don''t like other species and people. If said person is not even from Arkadia, they get really paranoid. They find and survey Travellers, and dispatch those they deem dangerous or disrupting for the Domain. Foxy was your case handler or minder."


    Arkadia obviously had a Green Card system with Immigration Offices all around. Did the agents refer to each other with initials? Prof should have claimed refugee status early on ¨C being dead otherwise would have probably given him a good chance. Or claimed citizenship in Wanderberg, he came into existence there, after all. Probably it did not work that way, however ¨C even on Earth countries were stingy with such. Especially when it came to Central Europeans.


    ¡°How do you know all this?¡±


    ¡°Foxy told me. Pillow talk. For someone being Paranoid, she was somewhat na?ve.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


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    ¡°Shunned. You don''t know how that works, do you?" Prof shook his head. He remembered reading something about it in the Afterlife Bureau but only remembered, it was bad "So, every point you have in Shunned, be it whatever, your Charisma counts as one point less. Foxy had four points in Shunned, so her effective Charisma was five. Do you follow?¡±


    ¡°I think so, five is really low. But if I remember correctly, you have Shunned for three points too, and that would give you an effective Charisma of what? Eight or so? You don¡¯t seem so ugly to me.¡±


    ¡°Why, thank you! Flatterer! So yes, five is extremely low, with three you wouldn''t be able to function without help. So Foxy grew up and lived her life while everyone looked at her and saw dirt¡­"


    ¡°But everyone was courteous and polite to her!¡± Prof interrupted


    ¡°Not to her in person, but to her position. No one wants to mess with the Bureau she is working for. It is internal security, after all. And Foxy had a reputation, even I have heard about the Rabid. So, back on topic, my effective Charisma would be eight, indeed, when and if the other person cares about me being a Vampire. You don¡¯t, so the Perk doesn¡¯t mean anything to you. In my Estate being a Vampire is even considered a positive Perk, so my Charisma at home is fourteen.¡±


    ¡°So, Shunned is relative? But Foxy hasn''t liked you in the beginning, and you still ended up together."


    ¡°See, it is here that the innate Blood Magic comes into play. I can enhance every Stat, Perk, and Skill I have with it. I simply boosted my Charisma to the nominal value, everything else was done by my happy and irresistible self. She saw my gorgeous self and with me not treating her like dirt ended up in my pillows. With that, she lost the game."


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Prof, you should pay attention to Skills and what they do! Why is it that no one teaches Travellers how Arkadia works?!?!"


    That was unfair ¨C Prof has even read the most official Rulebook there probably was!


    ¡°I have 190% in [Sex], Prof. Do you have any idea, what that means?¡±


    It probably meant that Mini could have made a career of being vaguely horizontal or on her knees. Everybody wanted a secretary just like that! Or two.


    ¡°You are good at it?¡± Prof hazarded the question.


    ¡°Yes, I''m good at it. Being good at it enables me to emotionally influence my partners and extract information from them because they are in love. Or are horny. Or whatever."


    Prof was quite sure, this tidbit was not included in the Rulebook. Neither were others, he learned since he arrived on Arkadia. What else was there?


    ¡°So, if Foxy was my assigned minder, why didn¡¯t she teach me all about the Skills and how Arkadia works?¡±


    ¡°Simply because that''s not their job. Most countries only care about crafters and easy-to-influence slaves. You are obviously neither. Foxy and her superiors probably hadn''t decided yet when to dispatch you. Plus, this whole Valley expedition came up, you were most likely a good pawn or free help. I wouldn''t have bet on your long-time survival. Why teach somebody important stuff, when you will most likely kill him off in short order?"


    It was Central Europe again. The masters only cared about cheap and quality workforce or cannon fodder (maybe free money), and let everybody else rot.


    ¡°Surely, you would have helped me?¡± Prof tried to see the light at the end of the tunnel.


    ¡°Not necessarily. I don¡¯t care either way¡± Oh, that light was just the headlight of a speeding semi with a caffeine-addicted overworked, underpaid Central European driver. Or worse, an Eastern European one¡­


    ¡°Look, Prof. I do like you, but even I wouldn¡¯t go out of my way to save you from stupidity or the Elven Internal Security or whatever they call it. It¡¯s the Forestean way: you fend for yourself and either you fall or become strong. If you get strong, you can fight stronger enemies for higher stakes. Don¡¯t base your survival on other people¡¯s help ¨C they will stab you in the back as soon as it is in their interest.¡±


    ¡°So killing Foxy was in your interest, I get it. Mass genocide is bad.¡±


    ¡°Mass genocide, as you put it, is bad as soon as it reaches my home. Or Forestdeep as it is. No one cares about other countries or species. If they wanted to kill off the Bergian lands, and only them, leaving Forestdeep out of it, I wouldn''t have cared. Probably no one in Forestdeep would have. But again, some old surviving monster maybe would have. But it is a moot point, they wanted to kill off parts of Forerstdeep, and that could not stand."


    ¡°Interesting point of view¡± actually, Earth worked quite like that too ¡°What about Shinead? She was asleep and was even against the whole plan! Why let her be killed?!¡±


    ¡°Oh, Prof, you still don''t understand. Shinead was a proper Elf, a Red Elf even. If it wasn''t Guillermo here, but someone else, she would have dragged you to a block happily, if it was for the Greater Elven Good. And, as I said, she hated your guts, only Foxy''s presence kept her from leaving you in a ditch, dead. I expect that she would have fabricated a situation, where she saved your life and so paid back the blood debt already, where it not for Foxy. Without the blood debt, you would be dead within an hour. As for Sharpclaw killing her? Well, she had the motive, the means, and the chance and successfully completed the task. No one in Forestdeep would condemn her."


    Prof was certain, he never wanted to visit Forestdeep after this revelation. It wasn''t a place that guaranteed continued survival. At least not in a way where he could enjoy an easy life.


    Maybe later, when he was really high level. Surely, they had some awesome sights to see.

 Chapter 10: Showdown at the OK Ruins, Part 5

    ¡°How could Foxy even figure out I¡¯m a Traveller within minutes?¡± after all the new revelations, Prof started to have suspicions.


    ¡°First of all, she was actively looking for you, there should be a compass or such in her stuff, pointing at you. Secondly, you don''t look like a local. I doubt, an Elf would be able to tell the differences, but you definitely don''t look like a Bergian, Gerulian, or Halitchian. That would be a clue in and itself, but your original clothes, armor, and weapons all screamed not-a-local too. I don''t even know, which style they are, and I know my clothes! All that, and she must have been almost certain you were a Traveller when she found you in the vague area she was looking for a Traveller. Looking at your Character Parchment¡­ Well, you either grew up in a cave or were a Traveller."


    ¡°What is the problem with my Skills, that everyone assumes, I grew up in a cave?!" Prof was frustrated. He has read that crap pile of Rulebook and gave a lot of tough about his Skills! Even so, almost everyone ridiculed him!


    ¡°It is obvious, you don¡¯t have a clue. Foxy told me, that you weren¡¯t aware of the most basic things, but look at your Character Parchment! Your Stats are suspiciously good! Three Stats at eighteen? No normal Elite has that many, while every other Stat is at least an eleven. Look at my Stats! Here. I have two high Stats, and both Endurance and Vitality got a rise after I became a Vampire! Foxy had three, but as an Elf, she got a bonus to Agility and Perception. If I¡¯m not mistaken, she somehow even cheated the System in her youth.¡±


    ¡°Look at your Perks. True, having a lot of well-thought-out positive Perks without really hard negative ones isn''t impossible to accomplish, but it is extremely rare. Munchkin especially is a Perk very few people would choose or get for free in the beginning. It is too expensive for just one Level. Ah, and Levels¡­ You are too old for your Level. With your Skills, you should be much higher Level already, or you would be some pampered snob, which you are definitely not."


    ¡°Your Skills? Even now at Level 5, with that absurd quantity of Skill Points, a lot of Skills, everyone would have at a decent level are so low, you would be hard-pressed to function in everyday life. It is obvious, that you haven''t spent Skill Points on them, and neither have you trained them. A twenty-two years old guy can be expected to have had some training or lessons in a lot of Skills. Even pampered snobs. It''s called life experience!"


    ¡°You are obviously a melee-type. Or you try to be. Look at those melee Skills! Your [Axes] are fantastic, but that is it. A little bit of [Knives] and [Hand-to-Hand Combat] but [Blunt Weapons], [Swords], [Polearms], [Shields], and all the others are all at the base value. They are relatively high for a base value, but it is obvious, you haven''t put Skill Points into them, nor have you had training in them. No one does that. Look at my Character Parchment! I''m not a melee type, but use a crossbow primarily, and I have put more effort into my secondary melee-Skills than you! Before the ritual and me losing a lot of progress, all of my melee-Skills were well over 100%!"


    ¡°[Evade]?! Who put you up with that?!? In and itself it isn''t even a bad choice, but it is always combined with [Acrobatics], you can get much more out of it that way. Even then, focusing exclusively on only one of the defending Skills is a very bad idea. The common wisdom is to have the other two, in your case [Parry] and [Block], at least at half the value of the best one. What did you do instead? Ignored both completely!"


    ¡°[Evade] is somewhat useful against monsters and animals, but as soon as you have to fight in narrow space, you are dead. If you fight against people, having only [Evade] makes you dead. I saw you fighting, you squander a lot of energy to evade, losing out chances to counter-attack. With [Parry] and [Block] at any useful Level you would be much better. You have two weapons, for the System¡¯s sake! On your own, you would be dead within the week!¡±


    Well, that was cruel. Prof was torn down in every way possible. He prided himself on being smart for taking so much time and thought to build his new self, read that piece of Rulebook from cover to cover, made notes, and did calculations, and still. The first person to give him an honest (and Cruel) evaluation practically told him, he was an utter moron (or maybe an Utter Moron?) and despite his study had not the faintest idea how Arkadia¡¯s System worked.


    Worse, he just spent all his Skill Points in a pre-planned way, and now he had to wait till the next Level to remedy his mistakes. Getting training while slogging through the Valley was probably out of the question.


    Prof did some calculations. Both [Parry] and [Block] were at 24%, in order to get them to around 100%, he would need 76 Skill Points each, so one and a half Levels just for those two. For the other melee-Skill, he would need two Levels, at least. Plus a Level or two for ¡°utility¡± Skills. Bye-bye [Art: Drawing] and [Art: Painting]!


    Stolen novel; please report.


    Prof didn''t believe in minmaxing, to begin with (although it could be said, he kind of did it when he reinvented himself, but hard, smelly work? No thank you), and the reality of Arkadia didn''t lend itself for that time-proven practice at large. Some kind of generalizing was a must, there were simply too many Skills one would need to survive. Prof already had problems with butchering the Dire Bear back when he met Foxy, he had serious problems preparing a meal on the road, he wouldn''t even know a trap if it hit him in the face, science, culture, and all the little things one takes as granted¡­ Everything worked with Skills, and obviously, it was recommended to have most "utility" Skills above 80%.


    Of course, he could make himself a true, specialized melee fighter with the corresponding Skills at 300-400%, but only by neglecting almost everything else. And finding a mender or servants to do everything else.


    Was Prof an idiot?


    Maybe.


    However, he was not prepared to live his life while everyone considered him a country bumpkin, who grew up in a cave or have to pay a small army of servants to tie his boots.


    Mostly, he did not want to pay others to do things he probably could do himself.


    Partially, he did not want to look like a country bumpkin.


    He also came from a country where every last person was an expert in finances, sports, repairing stuff, driving, laws, cooking, and everything else. Among others.


    Getting back on track.


    ¡°So, what now?" Prof asked "Should we relocate to the forest? Foxy seemed quite frightened because of the dragonkin ghost and whatnot. We still don''t have much in the way of magical weapons we can use!"


    ¡°It shouldn¡¯t be a problem. If there are dragonkin ghosts about, they usually attack only Elves, and those are dead already. If nothing else, I can talk to them. We should be safe.¡±


    Well, what could possibly go wrong, when someone with Irresponsible thinks it will be all right?


    ¡°You speak Dragonkin? I didn¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°Of course, I can''t speak Dragonkin! That''s a dead language, there are probably only a handful of people who can speak and understand it. I speak the dead language Deadian. Before you ask, that''s the language of the dead. Every undead speaks it! If nothing else, we feed the new chick to them as an offering."


    Fortunately, the "new chick" was currently going through the other mercenary''s stuff and was unaware of Mini''s plans. She probably would have been slightly offended for being suggested as an offering or sacrifice. But hey, with Ice Queen and Prude (and the medieval custom of not sleeping around before marriage), she was probably still a virgin ¨C every legend said, virgins were more valuable as sacrifices.


    But wait! Technically Prof was, at least on Arkadia, a virgin too! He definitely didn''t get lucky while arriving in the new world. Did Earth count?


    Probably not¡­


    Well, at least Mini was on the safe side. She spoke Deadian, wasn¡¯t an Elf, had two probably-virgin sacrifices and a Kobold in reserve.


    Prof was almost certain, leaving the meadow as soon as possible was a good idea.


    ¡°Mini, I think, we should leave before dark nevertheless.¡± he even articulated his opinion


    ¡°Don¡¯t you have confidence in my perfect brilliance?!?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sure, you would be just fine! I¡¯m concerned about the mules and the hornless goats!¡±


    ¡°Fiiiiine¡­ Pack up, we move to just outside the meadow for now. We finally can have that orgy you promised me!¡± Mini was shouting the last part, making sure, Bianca heard it too.


    Prof already had experience with how Mini worked, so he had a distinct suspicion, she did this kind of stuff just to scandalize people. Maybe to get attention? Or because she thought it funny? But who knows, she had a lot of mental issues, and back on Earth, she would have been put into a nice room with very soft walls a long time ago. Or made a career in politics or the corporate world.


    But again, she was kind of nobility, and rich people everywhere were eccentric at worst, and never crazy.


    Here, on Arkadia, crazy was just another entry on the Character Parchment, like Alcoholic, Ice Queen, Lazy, or Idealist. Did anyone care?


    Probably not, if you had an angry-looking, high-level Scorpionlizard munching on the remains of the last complainer next to you. Being an irresponsible, Sociopath was probably in the job description for any Adventurer.


    Prof needed to get an overleveled carnivorous mount for himself too. Just to be sure.


    Our main character started to stow the spoils into the saddlebags of the salvaged mules, and observed Bianca, doing the same. He wondered, why had he found only female companions ¨C was he somehow the protagonist of a harem story?


    No, he wasn¡¯t. I don¡¯t write harem.

 Chapter 10: Showdown at the OK Ruins, Part 6

    After collecting everything, they planned to take with them, the party relocated to the new campsite. Which was less, than ten meters from where the loot collection was taking place, just outside of the meadow proper.


    Prof felt much better and secure already.


    ¡°Say, Mini. I have heard the Human opinion and theories about Experience Points and Leveling, and Foxy told me the Elven version. What¡¯s the Forestean take on the issue?¡±


    ¡°Other people just hold you back. The more people help you kill stuff or do something, the slower the Leveling. Probably the Greenskins are right in their belief, that challenging and defeating higher Leveled beings helps you level faster. Or makes you dead faster. The latter isn''t much of a problem in Forestdeep, we always need cold bodies for this or that, the worst that could happen to you is losing Levels, Skills, and Stats, but hey, you still can try again from scratch."


    ¡°The belief in Forestdeep is that you shouldn''t rely on others too much to carry you forward, Levels will come naturally. And foremost, be nice to your resident necromancer or mage, they can re-animate your corpse, so you can try again from zero. If you weren''t much of an asshole or were connected enough, they maybe don''t even enslave you or use your corpse for their own purposes."


    ¡°Think about it, Prof, how many things have you killed on your own since coming to Arkadia?"


    ¡°Hmmm¡­ Outside of dungeons, a single Molerat and a couple of rats back in Smallgrovewell, I think.¡±


    ¡°Pfffffff¡­ HAHAHAHAHA!¡± Mini was rolling on the ground. ¡°I¡¯ve killed more stuff alone before I turned ten! Seriously, Prof?!¡±


    ¡°Yeah? I was on Arkadia for less than a month, trump that!¡± Prof snorted. ¡°For ah, don¡¯t rely on others much, you still have Binky, who does most of your killing! What about that?!?¡±


    ¡°First, I''ve got Binky after the ritual as a gift, secondly, I reached Level 25 mostly on my own previously, and thirdly, I''m undead. Do you understand, what that means? I don''t age. I don''t get sick. I won''t die because of boredom. Elves can have a long life, but I''m practically immortal! I have all the time I want to become the highest Leveled entity, Arkadia ever had! A few months or years of fooling around with you makes no difference to me! Oh, since fooling around came up, how about we fool around a bit?¡±


    ¡°No, thank you.¡±


    Prof started to miss Foxy. Maybe she kept Shinead peaceful, but also occupied Mini¡¯s attention. She was dead for how long, an hour or so? Mini already started to get restless. Prof was afraid, he was the only eligible person in the party, and it would be him to take one for the team, as the saying went.


    He needed to find another new party member to occupy Mini. Fast.


    Or find stuff for Mini to kill. She was Bloodthistry, after all.


    ¡°So, what now? Do you still want to visit the Human lands to the West?¡± Prof asked. Absolutely not to change the subject.


    ¡°Yeah, I wouldn''t recommend going back to the Domain for a certain, and very long time. Or, in your case, probably ever. The main issue is, however, how to leave the Valley. With the fragile fabric of space here, we would probably just walk in circles. I doubt, we could replicate the spell the Elves were using."


    ¡°About that," Bianca interjected somewhat demurely. "I overheard a discussion, the Elves were almost certain, the river and probably the creeks too, are more or less fixed in place. If we reach the river, we could follow it to the sea. From there it shouldn''t be hard to reach the Seven Kingdoms."


    ¡°The Seven Kingdoms? That''s what they are called? What do you know about them?" Prof''s interest was piqued. It was a huge problem of the Rulebook that there was nothing about geography, political division, cultures, and races/species included. On the other hand, Arkadia was Medieval Fun Land, and very few knew about faraway countries.


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°Faraway¡± as in farther than a day¡¯s journey.


    Or so Prof though, at least. Actually, most people knew their neighborhood ¨C say, 150 kilometers diameter circle or so ¨C fairly well, and the problems started with the next country. Well, surprisingly, very few people leave the 250 kilometers mark even today. And have basically no idea what happens a few countries over. But I digress.


    ¡°Not much, I just heard some rumors from fellow mercenaries and traders. There are Gerulian and Bergian states, and it is said, even some Greenskins are part of the coalition. There are other people there too, I knew a guy, who visited the Kingdoms, he said, you can find every known people there. I think, Julia is the largest kingdom, but I''m not sure. There should be countries even further West, the names the Western Marches, West''s End, Western Frontier, Wild West, and the Old Fallerian Kingdom came up. I don''t know, which is the correct name, or even if there is one."


    ¡°Definitely not the Fallerian Kingdom." Mini said "That kingdom fell a thousand years ago, or so. Hmmm¡­ Yeah, I heard, there are estates as far as the Western Ocean, but I didn''t know, they make a distinction between this Seven Kingdom and the rest. I will probably go West as far as possible. What about you, Prof?"


    ¡°Yeah, probably. I don''t have any plans. And know nothing about Arkadia, as you pointed out. That reminds me¡­ Sharpclaw, do you know anything about the Human lands to the West?"


    ¡°No, Missster, no know. Sssssharpclaw from Eassssstern ssssseassss.¡±


    No help from there either. It wasn¡¯t a large surprise, however, since Sharpclaw didn¡¯t know much about the lizard states either ¨C or wouldn¡¯t talk about them much.


    ¡°All right, we will head out West, and either exit the Valley the normal way or find the river and follow it to the sea. We could even make a boat!"


    ¡°Ehmm¡­ Prof, how high is your [Repair: Wood] or [Carpenter] or any other Skill that deals with woodworking?¡±


    What did Prof expect? Arkadia literally worked on Skills, with a Skill for every last little thing! There was even [Breath Control]!


    What was that about? Diving or some BDSM practices? Probably the latter, since there was a [Diving] Skill on its own.


    ¡°Oh¡­ A float maybe?¡±


    ¡°Not, if you expect to last it for any length of time. Oh, and where would you get the ropes for it? [Rope Making]?¡±


    ¡°Cut a few trees and ride them? No, there is probably a Skill [Woodcutting], and we would have to leave the donkeys back.¡±


    ¡°Yes, there is such a Skill, but if you just want to make the tree horizontal, it doesn¡¯t really matter, how high your Skill is.¡±


    ¡°Damn¡­ Hey, maybe we stumble upon the folks Bianca was talking about, and they can sell us a boat or float?¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t count on it.¡± Bianca destroyed his hopes ¡°They didn¡¯t look overly friendly, and they were nowhere near the river. As far as I could tell, at least.¡°


    ¡°So, we are left with walking next to the river or swimming. Before you ask, my [Swimming] is at 50%.¡±


    ¡°Sorry to disappoint, but that isn''t enough to bring your gear too," Mini said


    ¡°And mine is only 24%¡± interjected Bianca


    ¡°All right, walking it is¡­¡±


    Why was everything so hard on Arkadia? Back on Earth you just hopped into the water or built a boat!


    Oh, wait.


    Back on Earth you just rented or bought a boat. Probably not somewhere out in the barely inhabited parts, or anywhere that was not a tourist trap, but still¡­


    Frustrated, Prof started to rearrange their stuff.


    The jewelry went into Foxy''s belly bag of holding, together with most of the unidentified magical thingies ¨C a few simply didn''t fit into the opening. The perishable loot ¨C hearts, and organs of defeated animals and monsters ¨C he left in it. He planned to stuff it with further such loot, so for easy access, he equipped it.


    His money went into the purse and was deposited deep into his backpack. While in the Valley, he didn''t expect to need money, and deep inside the backpack was probably the safest place. He thought about putting the money together with the jewelry but finally decided to keep his valuables in two different places. If losing one, he would still have the other.


    Everything else was distributed evenly on the mules ¨C if one of them disappeared, only a set part of their stuff would be lost, not a high percentage of a given category. Of course, the Elves didn''t have tents with them, probably lost during the expedition. What needed to happen for Prof and the party finally get tents? Buy one?!?!


    Nevertheless, the joke was starting to get old.


    After a long night, where there were no ghostly and ethereal attacks from precursor spirits, it was time for the Grand Escape! Not from Alcatraz, New York, or Los Angeles this time, but the Valley of Death¡­ Torment¡­ Whatever!

 Chapter 11: Granite and Mythrill, Part 1

    Getting out of the Valley was easier said than done. You just needed to walk due West, and sooner or later you either found the river or the border of the Valley, yes?


    Wrong.


    Walking due West wasn¡¯t the problem itself, even without Prof¡¯s high [Navigation]. Most people could walk in the vaguely right direction even in unfamiliar places.


    Most.


    Some searched for a "You are here" dot on a flyer, but those folks got lost even in a shopping mall¡­


    The problem was the constantly shifting fabric of space in the Valley. Prof''s Mental Map was utterly useless in this regard, obviously, he had to have a connection to already known places for the map to display his position. Or the spatial shenanigans of the Valley itself made the map display only a grayscale blob of nothingness.


    That being said, they had not the faintest idea, of where they were at any given time, how far the river or the border was. At times they could have been just around the corner (that is, around some bushes), or right next to the Eastern borders. Or not far from the sea¡­


    To use the time they had at hand, Prof came up with an idea for training their language [Skills]. He knew Bergian and Elven, Mini Forestean and Bergian, while Sharpclaw was good in Reptile and Bianca in Gerulian. They could teach each other! The language workshop consisted mostly of a few common phrases and pointing at stuff and learning the name of it in a different language. Forestean was actually quite easy for Prof, there were a lot of Bergian and Elven words and phrases in that language, although both in a somewhat archaic version. Mini told him, that it was only true for the Western Forestean dialect, the Northern, Eastern, and Classical dialects had other influences, but the dialects were mostly understandable for everyone.


    Gerulian was a bit harder, while Reptile ¨C or Seaspeach, as Sharpclaw called it ¨C was mostly unpronounceable for the Humans. Their tongues simply weren¡¯t made for it. A further problem was Sharpclaw¡¯s low [Speech: Bergian], she simply did not know a lot of words and was unable to give the equivalent for them in Seaspeach.


    After a few days of slogging through the seemingly endless forest, and traversing a couple of creeks and brooks, Prof had an idea.


    ¡°You said, the main river is somehow locked in space. What about creeks and brooks? ¡°


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Maybe? Creeks usually flow into rivers, so¡­¡±


    ¡°Worth a try. Next time we find flowing water, we follow the flow. At least, if the water is going due West or South.¡±


    ¡°Why only West or South?¡± Mini asked. ¡°With us not knowing where we are in respect to the river, East would be also a good choice.¡±


    ¡°Simply. Neither of us knows the exact hydrography of the Valley, or that of the Eastern borders of it, so heading back East could land us back in the Domain as easily as finding the river. I don''t want to risk it. I''m fed up with Elves."


    Of course, it took them another few days to finally stumble on a creek, heading more or less West. It was actually a wonder, they found one so fast ¨C looking for something going West while you head due West is not easy. Creeks usually don''t overtake pedestrians¡­


    Whatever monster repellent they had previously, was now gone, and they had to fight quite a few more inhabitants in the week they finally found the creek. More of the same, they already encountered: wolves, and some medium-sized cats (they looked like a mix between a lynx and a puma. They probably had a name, but no one in the party had a high enough [Zoology] or [Monsterology] to know it, and [Observe] also returned only "Valley of Torment Feline" and Level, so they went with just Valley Cat), snakes and a small herd of those wrongly named dinosaurs. Luckily, no true monster was encountered.


    The fighting itself was both easier and harder. They finally had a true defender ¨C and Bianca was really good at it ¨C but also one party member less. They also much more mules to look after ¨C that particular problem solved itself in the fangs of the attacking wildlife, in one week they lost four mules to attacks, and one to poisoning.


    Or sickness, or whatever. Everyone was bad at [Animal Husbandry]¡­


    Finding the creek was well and good, but unfortunately, it wasn''t a nicely maintained ornamental decoration for a park, and neither was it a regulated canal. Instead, it was a wild and untamed piece of water, you would expect far from Human influence. Like a place as, say, the Valley of Torment. That meant, that instead of nicely cropped grass with a few strategically placed willows, the party had to contend with fully overgrown banks. After Mini joked about Man-Eating Weed, they had even less inclination to try their hands at walking on the banks.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    Since, hopefully, the creek was spatially fixed too, they had to walk near it, in order to not lose it. Or, as it were, in it.


    It may or may not look like fun to wade through ankle to knee-deep water, for multiple days, but Prof definitely did not have fun. The mud wasn''t fun either.


    The minimal touristic value of the picturesque brook and untamed wilderness ¨C and not much remained of those after having already spent days, weeks, months, years (or so he felt) in the Valley ¨C went out the proverbial window two hours after entering the brook. Prof''s boots and pants were sodden, and because he managed at least one faceplant, all his remaining clothing was dripping wet too. At least it wasn''t raining.


    Till the second day.


    They spent the night at a small clearing, directly next to the brook, hoping, they will find it the next morning where they left it. The morning greeted them with an overcast sky, with the sun barely peeking out from behind the clouds. The rain started an hour later ¨C at first with only a light drizzle, increasing to a deluge around noon.


    Actually, this was the first instance for Prof to experience precipitation on Arkadia. It was the same as on Earth: it made him wet and miserable.


    Since they were already wet from the drizzle and wading, they elected to continue on and not seek some minimal shelter. Not that there was anything that would have qualified as shelter: the forest was thick, but not thick enough to catch much of the rain. Leaving the brook also had the danger to lose it.


    They trudged on and on and on.


    Late in the afternoon ¨C the deluge was still falling ¨C they encountered their most dangerous monster thus far. Obviously, they rolled a 21 with D20 on the random encounter table, at least the hunchbacked, bone-thin, greenskinned older lady with a crooked nose and needle-sharp teeth looked truly terrifying. Partly, because she wore no clothes save for some dirty rags as loincloths. Prof would have called her a hag but was unsure if that was offensive to the elderly.


    The brook-dwelling senior felt offended nevertheless, throwing a handful of rotting moss at the party with her clawed hands. Prof did not take notice of what it was meant to do, he launched a counter-offensive immediately, as they had practiced previously: Bianca, holding her shield high advanced more slowly, albeit directly on their enemy, while Mini and Binky circled to the right. With the deluge still going on, Mini was unable to make use of her crossbow and had to rely on her saber instead. Sharpclaw was left behind to take care of the mules.


    Or so the plan was.


    The rotting moss probably landed between the mules and caused some unfortunate effect ¨C judging by the pained neighs coming from behind. Prof couldn¡¯t check, what was happening, because, well, he was charging forwards.


    The situation devolved from crappy to shit immediately afterward.


    From one step to another, Mini disappeared, followed by the faithful scorpionlizard. That was how a shortcut through the weak fabric of space looked from the outside. Prof was somehow disappointed, for some reason he expected cool CGI effects with unrealistic colors and psychedelic swirling forms. But no, reality had to be boring and colorless. How should the poor programmers make a living without all that unnecessary CGI?


    All those thoughts and questions flashed through his mind in a second or two, and he already made contact with the¡­ let¡¯s use an offensive and intolerant name, Brook Hag.


    He shouldn¡¯t have.


    Even before he was able to engage his Trademarked Bash its Head in With Co-ordinated Double Axe Swing technique by swinging both his axes in the direction of the Hag¡¯s head to bash it in while evoking the Heaven-rendering Critical Hit sub-technique (yes, he was a bit bored in the last couple of days and came up with a few names. No, he wasn¡¯t good at it), he was hit in the face by a clump on rotting moss.


    That, in itself, wouldn''t have been a problem, even when swallowing part of it, if it had been normal rotting moss.


    Who would have thought, that magical rotting moss would be poisonous? Who would have thought, that swallowing magical, poisonous rotting moss wasn¡¯t the best idea in all the multiverses?


    Well, Prof had a vague idea, that probably it wasn¡¯t a brilliant idea, and maybe rotting moss wasn¡¯t healthy, but when running into battle and a clump of said botany suddenly appears in one¡¯s face, it is hard not to get some into the digestive system.


    Despite Prof¡¯s relatively high poison resistance ¨C and his magical anti-poison trinkets ¨C he started to feel sick almost immediately. Dizziness followed right after. After only a few steps he found himself on his knees and hands, with the world spinning. It was worse than being stiff drunk ¨C first, getting drunk meant that he had a good time before and secondly, it would not be in the middle of a cursed valley, fighting some kind of evil old lady.


    The last thing he saw was a stretch of muddy ground before unconsciousness claimed him.

 Chapter 11: Granite and Mythrill, Part 2

    Prof came to with a splitting headache and a roiling stomach. It took him hours and days ¨C he felt like it was so long, but was probably only a couple of minutes ¨C to be able to collect himself enough to survey the place he found himself in.


    His first realization was that he was completely naked.


    The second was that he was the occupant of a wooden cage.


    The third, that said cage was located in some kind of ruins. The architecture ¨C that was visible beneath the foliage, debris, and refuse ¨C was completely unfamiliar to him. Not that he has seen much of Arkadia''s architecture since he arrived. If was not a variance of peasant romantics, and neither was it Elven. For some reason, he was reminded of concrete emplacements from the last world war.


    The fourth was that he wasn''t alone. To his left, Bianca was crumpled in a heap (completely naked), and still out. In front of him, there were about half a dozen other cages, some with dead or dying animals, and to his right a completely naked and unknown guy, both Bianca and the guy in their own cage.


    Waaaait¡­


    A guy and not a female? How could that even be possible? Prof was for some strange reason used to find only girls laying around in mortal danger, not guys. Were guys even able to get into mortal danger so Prof could rescue them?


    But waaaait!


    If Prof was able to rescue the guy and he joined the party, Mini would have someone else to pester to have a good time, and would leave Prof alone! Yes! It was imperative to rescue the guy!


    But back to said guy.


    He was quite burly, and although he was sitting in his cage, Prof guessed, he was large too, probably somewhere around two meters. With green skin, jutting tusks, and a bald head he was the stereotypical fantasy orc. What did the girls tell him about Greenskins? Something about having a fetish for order and cleanness? Challenging higher Level foes?


    The guy looked at Prof expectantly, so he decided to be a Gentleman and introduce himself.


    ¡°Good day, fellow prisoner. I¡¯m called Prof, whom do I have the pleasure of speaking with?¡±


    ¡°Day you too. Name Wolfgang Spielmeisterlieb Klavierspieler. Playing music in family. Family famous.¡±


    Oh yeah, there was no common tongue on Arkadia. Wolfgang''s Bergian was even worse than Sharpclaw''s, heavily accented and almost incomprehensible. However, it was still a wonder, that someone from the other side of the Domain and the Valley could even speak a little bit Bergian. Maybe he spoke Elvish too?


    ¡°Would be talking in Elvish be better?¡± it was worth a try.


    ¡°Me better in talk of master species. Me not like talk. Treesqueezer uninviting. Of track, you want to lie in talk of master species, me see spy to spy.¡±


    What?! That was even worse! The new guy was oversimplifying the nuances into misunderstandings. So let''s see¡­ "Master Species" is one of the meanings for "Elf", others being "Old Species", "Important People" or "True Masters". "Treesquezer" was slang for non-Elves who were attracted to Elves. "Lie" was almost the same as "speak", and "spy" was another meaning for "eye". So probably the Orc was better in Elvish but did not like to speak in it, because he did not like folks, who were attracted to Elves. If Prof wanted to speak in Elvish, he would agree, however.


    Not happening.


    Prof did not want to analyze every last sentence for hidden, misunderstood, or mispronounced meaning, so they had to stay with Bergian. Crap, Foxy was the one who could speak Greenskinnian¡­


    ¡°Where are we and who captured us? The hag? Why are we here to begin with?¡±


    ¡°This the ruins of old Greenskin city of Dunkelwald. You right, evil old ladies prisoned me and you for food and breeding. Me searched old family relic. Why you here?¡±


    Oh, look, the standard hook of ancient ruins ¨C probably full of valuable stuff ¨C and another side quest for helping out someone doing something important! Prof was only alarmed by the "for food and breeding" part. Especially the breeding. The Brook Hag didn''t look like something he was comfortable breeding with. He haven''t seen Sharpclaw or Mini around, so they were surely free, and would arrive any moment to save Prof. Right? Right? It was after all their turn to save him! Right?


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    ¡°My party and me were chasing a band of Grey Elves into the Valley for revenge. We have finished with that and were planning to leave here, when we were ambushed by a Hag. Some of my party were able to evade capture, so I¡¯m sure, they will try to get me and Bianca there out. Do you have friends to attempt the same?¡±


    ¡°No, my band dead. Some dead because of Valley, rest eaten and breeded. Me last.¡±


    ¡°Look, Mister Klavierspieler, when my party comes, we can release you too. If you want, you can join us, and we can escape the Valley together. We are short of good fighters at the moment.¡±


    ¡°No! Me can not leave Dunkelwald until me find family relic! Important for all Greenskins! Me comes here to become Redcap! No relic, me rather dead!¡±


    ¡°Maybe we can help you with that too. What exactly are you looking for?¡±


    ¡°Book. Ancestor of me family invented Greenskin music, in book original music, lost musics, lost versions of musics! Me bring back book, Greenskin music will reborn! Me will become Redcap!¡±


    ¡°So, a collection of ancient songs? Why is that so important? Truly, after a millennium or two, your music would have changed."


    ¡°Changed, yes. Not tru anymore. Not music the old heroes did, went soft! In book original music, Greenskins go back to tru music!¡±


    ¡°Old heroes sung?¡±


    ¡°Yes! ???????????? ??????????, ???????? ????????????????, ???????????????? ??????????????????????, ?????????????????? ??????????????, ???????????? ??????????????, ????????????????, ???????????? ??????????????, ?????????????????? ???? ????????????, ?????????????????? and all the others!¡±


    That was less helpful than Prof thought. He could name a few old Bergian heroes ¨C even his low [Legends: Bergian] was enough for that ¨C but he was completely clueless when it came to Elven or in this case Greenskinnian important dead people. All right, he at least hear of Fiona the Fast, but only because both Foxy and Shinead talked about her a lot. Long-dead Greenskins? Not a chance.


    ¡°All right, but that doesn¡¯t mean anything to me. I don¡¯t even know, what kind of music you folks play!¡±


    ¡°Bestest music on all Arkadia! It¡¯s called¡­ how you say? Grey, hard stone? Hardest?¡±


    ¡°Basalt? Granite? Diamonds?¡±


    ¡°Yes! Granite! Music called Granite!¡±


    ¡°What? How do you play on stone?!?¡±


    ¡°Not on stone! Greenskins bestest, hardest species, Granite hardest stone, fits for name! Not can call it Clay, yes? Clay not hard, not fit hardest species!¡±


    Well, that was true. But why not call it something even harder?


    To be sure, Prof asked it.


    ¡°The Old Heroes and family ancestor called it Stone, why look for something else? It¡¯s Stone, but hardest Stone!¡±


    Yeah, never ask about the logic behind naming conventions. Someone might answer and you get a headache. Prof also didn''t get closer to the answer to the most important questions in all the multiverses: what kind of music were the Greenskins playing and why was the book so important? Of course, a millennia-old book would mean quite a cultural significance and would belong in a museum, that was clear. But where one legendary relic was, there should be others, and Prof was currently broke.


    That realization hit him like a brick. No, more likely a whole yard full of building material. All the stuff he plundered honestly and lawfully, gone! He even paid taxes! Why can''t a poor Central European have his riches? Why would some evil monster come and take away his property he worked hard for about four months?!? He was sweating blood! Well, not exactly sweating, but blood was flowing, some of it his.


    Maybe the Hag took his stuff too, and he would be able to re-liberate everything! He only needed to get out of the cage, defeat the Hag or Hags, and the very best thing of fantasy worlds ¨C looting ¨C would be in spitting distance!


    Mini and Sharpclaw would be coming soon, and he would be rich again!


    Surely, it would not take long.


    Any minute now.


    As it were, Bianca became conscious not long after. She was immediately conscious of her missing wardrobe too. Yes, she was a Prude, so waking up to a serious case of undress while having two involuntarily disrobed males in sight led naturally to distress, shouting, blushing, and dressing down said males.


    It was not Prof''s fault, that they were incarcerated in some cages in the middle of nowhere! Why was Bianca acting like he was some sexual predator? He wasn''t even ogling! He was sanitized by hanging around the Domain long enough, and the Elven chicks were ¨C to be frank ¨C a little bit¡­ khmmm¡­ more decorative. Even Mini was¡­ khmmm¡­ had a higher Charisma than Bianca. And she was a pushy, vulgar bloodsucker with serious mental issues. Well, when she wasn''t horny or trying to scandalize someone, she was actually fun to be around. Those few minutes per day¡­


    If anything, Bianca was the one ogling the boy toys next to her!


    But, to not aggravate the situation anymore, Prof and Wolfgang agreed to turn their backs to her. She did so in kind.


    That agreement unfortunately meant, that Prof now stared at Wolfgang''s naked back. He wanted to have those nice Elven ladies back. Or the cadavers in the other row of cages. Something! Anything! But please, no naked male Orc backside!

 Chapter 11: Granite and Mythrill, Part 3

    ¡°So, Wolfgang, what about when my friends rescue us, we help you to escape too, and we try to find the relic you were looking for? Do you want to join our party? When we leave the Valley, we can go our separate ways, if you like.¡± Prof steered the conversation back from finding out what exactly Greenskin music was and Bianca''s demands.


    ¡°Yes! Finding relic, making tru music for Greenskins! Me accept! Here, see parchment!¡±


    And with that, Prof conveniently found himself on a legendary quest to find a long-lost magical relic. Just his luck, sitting in a cage in the middle of the Valley of Torment, minding his own business, and poof! Incredible!


    With a flick of the wrist, Wolfgang sent his Character Parchment over. Prof did so after a few seconds too ¨C he still wasn¡¯t used to the motions. Trying to remember, what Mini told him to give attention to, he perused the Orc¡¯s values. Mini told him to notice not only the Skills above 100%, but every last one, that was above the ¡°base value¡±, and very low ones too. Skills below 100% but above around 50% or so were ones the other guy was more or less proficient with, and could lead to nasty surprises. Low Levels in Skills would mean weaknesses, one could exploit.


    Wolfgang was thirty-five years old, but ¡°only¡± Level 10. What did Mini say about Levels and age? Prof couldn¡¯t really remember the rule of thumb, but Level 10 seemed a bit low for someone in the business of bashing heads. Bianca was seven years younger and was the same Level, while Mini was the same age but was Level 25 or so before becoming a Vampire.


    However, Bianca was a mercenary, and Mini some kind of enforcer, while Wolfgang looked like a musician. Or a fantasy bard. Three of his tagged Skills were [Art: Guitar], [Art: Singing], and [Magic: Music], while having Talent: Guitar, 5 and Talent: Singing, 4. Plus his Skill in [Composing] was at 150%, [Magic: Sound] at 120%, and [Art: Drums] at 100%. To judge from these, he was probably a legendary-level composer slash musician. On the other hand, his last tagged Skill was [Two-Handed Axes] at 200%, and he had five other fighting Skills at 100% each, and [Evade], [Parry], and [Block] each at 100% too. Strangely, he had [Astronomy] at 150% too¡­ Hmmm¡­ It was probably a good idea for a musician to have a day job too, but Prof thought being a dentist was more profitable. But who was he to judge others?


    So, what else was there to pay attention to? [Camouflage], [Disguise], and [Con]. Nope, Wolfgang had all three at a base value. Moving to Skills some Traveller-Hunter would have, [Investigate], [Observe], and [Interrogation]. Not really. The last one was at base value, and the other two were 80% and 75% respectively. So, nothing really dangerous.


    What else was there? [Philosophy] at 95%, and a few survival-Skills with a bit of effort expended.


    The Perks? Two Talents, Charismatic, King of the Night, and Favourite Weapon. Charismatic meant that everyone had a better opinion of him, while Favourite Weapon gave some bonuses when wielding that particular weapon. Probably a two-handed axe. He had Mana Affinity and More Mana too. As negative ones Wiseass, Showman (shouldn¡¯t it be Showorc?), and a two-point Enemy. The first one meant that Wolfgang gave his two iron bits to every last topic, while the second described his compulsion to do everything in an overblown, showy way, efficiency be damned. The last one¡­ There was someone out there, who hated his guts.


    Despite his best efforts, Prof didn''t find anything inconsistent or dangerous. Probably Mini would point out some hidden feature of a Skill, that was not included in that thrice-damned piece of scam of Rulebook. Say, [Magic: Music] was good for getting money for nothing and chicks for free. Or would that be [Art: Guitar] with a corresponding serious Talent?


    Hey, if Prof and Wolfgang became brothers in arms, Prof could pour some water of love around. An angel of mercy would surely take a liking to a solid rock that Prof was, and would put eternal (or longer-then-five-minutes) love over gold!


    His musings were interrupted by thunderous laughter.


    ¡°You grow up in hole in ground? Why not spread out Skills more? You good fighter, but no good in other things! Hahaha!¡±


    ¡°Hey! I didn''t grew up in a cave! There are some special circumstances, though." Obviously, every last person who took a look at his Character Parchment figured out, something was not right. Mini already told him why. Prof already wanted to remedy the issue, but while wandering through the Valley and without a convenient Level Up, there was not much he could do. It still stung to be seen as a cave dweller every time.


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    ¡°Oh, you from fighter family! Explains!¡±


    Well, both his grandfathers were soldiers back in the forties and went on campaign, and his uncle and father were both conscripted when his country still had an army and compulsory service was still a thing, so Prof did not exactly lie when he said yes. Of course, he himself saw a military installation from the inside only on the few times he went to an airshow, and the only time he was in uniform was at that one carnival. But hey, no one would be able to get his family records on Arkadia.


    ¡°Hope, you friends come soon. Hags brought fresh meat with you, no feeding for a time. Hags will feed on donkeys today and day after today, will rest a day, and will want to breed after that. You not want to breed with Hags! Friends hurry!¡±


    Poor mules. Demoted from lugging around legitimate salvage to food, the world of prey animals wasn''t kind, indeed. On the other hand, Prof was demoted from a heroic adventurer to breeding stock too. And after that, probably to food. Was an innocent Human from Central Europe only prey animal in reality? Reality sucked.


    So, Mini, Sharpclaw, and cute little Binky should hurry up!


    They did not hurry.


    While waiting for the inevitable rescue, Prof was chatting with his new best friend, the Orcish wunderkind of music. First, he learned that the Brook Hag community they were the guests of consisted of around a dozen of Level 6 to 15 specimens, and while they were physically weak, each one was quite good in magic. They wielded a strange mix of floral-, poison- and environmental magic, and what Prof could piece together from Wolfgang''s telling, the magic wasn''t different Skills but Species Traits, like Mini''s Blood Magic. Presumably, the rotting moss Prof inhaled was a representation of the magic.


    Or some natural moss in rotting condition that put him to sleep. No difference.


    As it transpired, Wolfgang and his band ¨C it was not a party but a band, as the Orc insisted; they had three guitarists, a singer, and a drummer, so a real band ¨C had some falling out with the¡­ not really a Musicians Guild, about what tru music was, how the current not-quite-guild perverted the ancestor''s intent and made Granite into Clay. Wolfgang''s words. After some heated discussion, that may or may not have involved bashing a not-quite-Guildmaster over the head with a guitar, the band made a vow to find the original book of the renowned ancestor who invented Granite.


    How they knew, The Book still existed after all those millennia you are asking? It was obviously quasi-magical and indestructible ¨C in the legends, pre-Granite, the not-quite-guild tried to burn it multiple times, to shred it, and to dissolve it in acid, but The Book was just fine afterward. It lying around for a few centuries would do just nothing to it.


    Finding it wasn''t exceptionally hard either, it was kept in the not-quite-Guildhall in Dunkelwald before the Valley of Torment came into existence, and there was no record of it ever being moved from there. Of course, a lot of musicians, adventurers, and soldiers tried to recover it ¨C together with other stuff left in Dunkelwald ¨C but no expedition ever came back. At least came back finding the city or anything valuable.


    Wolfgang¡¯s band did make preparations for the expedition, if Prof understood it right, the Greenskins knew about watercourses being fixed in the fabric of space in the Valley, so they copied maps about the hydrography and plotted the most convenient way to the known location of Dunkelwald. Even so, they lost some time, because a small river changed course in the centuries since the map was drawn, and well, the maps they had weren¡¯t exactly good.


    That, and the highest [Navigation] they had was only 81%.


    Who would have thought, that reading and following a map in largely unknown territory needed a higher Skill?


    They arrived at the ruined town only a few days before Prof was captured ¨C and were promptly ambushed by the Hags. They already lost their drummer to a Dire Weasel attack, and in the epic battle against the Hags, two of the guitarists perished ¨C leaving only Wolfgang and their singer-babe. She in turn was taken by the Hags only a few hours before Prof and Bianca were dumped into their cages.


    What the design was for her, food or breeding stock, Wolfgang did not know.


    After asking, Prof was also provided with an overview of Greenskin society. Competence (or excellence?) was the driving force behind everything the Greenskins did: the more competent one was, the higher he could rise in the respective fields of occupation. Bullshiting and empty complaining were looked down upon, and the respective leader was liable for his subordinates ¨C not only in name but in reality. If the subordinates could not show competence, it was the leader''s fault for not choosing the right subordinates. Meaning, he was incompetent, and so sullied everything the Greenskins stood for. No lazing around, no incompetence, no littering.


    Becoming a Redcap did not mean, that the individual was the leader of a¡­ something, Prof understood the Orc''s explanation as maybe "Career Path", but that he was an extremely respected professional in his chosen field. Either with outstanding Skill or inventing something new and better. The Perk Redcap was awarded by the Heavenly Game Master, not by mere mortals, and most often came with a healthy boost in Skill or further insight. The inventor of Granite was said to have the Perk seven times, an unreached feat since then.


    Dressing up as a Redcap while not being one was the ultimate sin with the Greenskins, and the punishment was immediate execution. Due to this practice, normal Greenskins never wore red. "Seeing Red" meant for them, someone was wearing red without being a Redcap. That also led to some "misunderstandings" with other species.

 Chapter 11: Granite and Mythrill, Part 4

    Prof also learned that Goblins were the brains of the Greenskin species ¨C again, a collection of different races. Ogres, on the other end of the spectrum, were the muscle, dumb, but extremely strong and durable brutes. They were somewhat pitied by the other races because they almost never became Redcaps, and with their pacifist and peaceful attitude they were almost useless for everything but heavy manual labor. Being cruel to an Ogre was an especially severe crime in Greenskin lands.


    Hobgoblins and Orcs were somewhere in the middle. Both were stronger than Goblins and smarter than Ogres ¨C Hobs were leaner, meaner, more cunning, and restless, while Orcs were bulkier, more peaceful, and laid back. These attributes were reflected in the disposition for "career path" too. Hobs tended towards more active careers, while Orcs to more scientific pursuits. Interestingly, the best magic wielders were Orcs, not Goblins, and the most famous and best musicians were Orcs too.


    Interbreeding between the different races was possible and not looked down upon. However, there were no half-breeds, the child was always a pure-blood of the mother''s race. Why it was so, Wolfgang had no idea and didn''t care either.


    Prof also learned that Gremlins weren''t considered true Greenskins, they were something like livestock or renewable not-exactly-dumb ammunition. They were the ideal farm animals: they could take care of themselves, were able to accompany their masters into battle, and could be thrown at the enemies. A volley of screaming, half-meter-high "smart" ammunition was often enough to break even a shield wall.


    From the stories of Shinead and (mostly) Foxy, Prof thought, that the Greenskins had only one country (or tribe, or horde, Shinead gave quite negative comments on Greenskins. But she did so with Humans too¡­), but it wasn¡¯t so in reality. In fact, there were five larger and a few smaller states, not counting the enclaves in Human lands ¨C although those were legally part of the respective Human state, they still could send representatives to the Greenskin¡­ high council? Assembly? Meeting? Prof wasn¡¯t clear on what that was, and since it was politics¡­ well, he wasn¡¯t particularly interested in the whole issue.


    Wolfgang himself came from the largest, easternmost state, called Ostwaldland.


    The Hags showed themselves only once in two days, distributing some raw meat and a bit of dirty water. Prof really hoped, he wouldn''t get sick from the water ¨C the meat he refused to eat, just like Bianca ¨C dirty water wasn''t the healthiest thing after all. However, not drinking wasn''t an option, he was parched. A grown man could survive only for so long without water.


    More problematic was, when they had to relieve themselves. The Hags didn''t provide buckets, latrines, or at least some partition between the cages ¨C which weren''t overly large, to begin with.


    Suffice to say, they all had unpleasant experiences.


    Prof was disappointed that the experience did not give enough EXP for a Level Up. Probably they needed to escape the cages first¡­


    When darkness fell on the third day, Prof started to get afraid, his friends abandoned him after all. The three prisoners haven''t tried to escape on their own, simply because the cages looked too sturdy, and they were all naked, unarmed, and unarmoured. Even if they could open the cages somehow, they had no chance to face a Hag. Even when armed and armored, both Prof''s party and Wolgang''s band got their asses handed to them. Without any gear, fighting was hopeless. Even if they could get away unnoticed ¨C that was unlikely too, as Bianca was the best sneak, with [Stealth] at 40% - they would have found themselves naked, unarmed, and unarmoured in the middle of the Valley. Going full caveman (to be polite: cavewoman, caveman, and caveorcmale), wasn''t a recipe for long life expectancy out there.


    So, they waited and hoped.


    As it was in such kinds of situations, rescue arrived at the last second. Well, not exactly the last second, that would be when a Hag was just around the corner to collect Prof for a breeding session. It was at midnight when Prof woke up to someone poking him in the ribs. Just so you know, Kobold fingers aren''t really made for poking, they have sharp and pointy claws.


    ¡°Missssster! Sssharpclaw here to resssscue! Will open cagessss! Be sssssilent. Evil ladiessss ssssleeping.¡±


    Prof shouldn''t have doubted his best friends on all of Arkadia! He should have been sure, they will come for him. He rubbed his ribs, hoping he wouldn''t get an infection, Sharpclaw''s claws were¡­ sharp and they broke skin. How ironic would it be to escape being a breeding stallion, but to succumb to an infection! Bacilli were evil! Whole interstellar invasions fell to them!


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    ¡°Is Mini with you?" Prof asked while Sharpclaw cut the vines holding his cage closed off.


    ¡°Misssusss with Big Lizzzzard. Big Lizzzzard ate lookout-lady. Waiting for misssster and ssssshieldlady.¡±


    ¡°Good, I was afraid, she was lost. Please free Wolfgang there too!¡±


    ¡°Green missster with ussss now?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, for the time being. We will need to help him find some stuff. Oh, and our stuff too.¡±


    Losing his hard worked-for stuff wasn¡¯t going to stand! If he had to, he would burn down the ruins, to get them back! Even if stone couldn¡¯t burn, he would make it so!


    After all three prisoners were out of their cages, Sharpclaw started to lead them through the ruins. Without the guide, Prof was certain, they would have gotten lost, or would have run into one of the Hags. The Kobold lead them through collapsed buildings, alleys full of debris and plants, bushes, and tree groups. They tried to be sneaky, but with everyone''s low Skill, Prof was certain, an elephant in a china shop was less obvious. And quieter. Fortunately, the Hag on lookout duty was already eaten by Binky.


    It took less than a quarter of an hour to be reunited with Mini.


    ¡°Oh, shit, Prof!¡± exclaimed the Vampire when she saw him


    ¡°Come on, Mini, it was only a few days, I¡¯m sure, I¡¯m not looking so bad!¡±


    ¡°No, I meant, eww, shit! You have excrement on your leg! Stay away!¡±


    ¡°Shit¡­ The Hags will pay for this! They took my¡­ I mean our stuff too! Can I wash somewhere?¡±


    ¡°There is a water hole over there, I don¡¯t know, how much it will help, though¡­ Oh, hello, handsome! Do you have a girlfriend?¡±


    ¡°No?¡±


    ¡°Do you want one? Prof¡¯s just stringing me along!¡±


    ¡°Miss Mini! Mini!" Bianca desperately tried to get the Vampire''s attention. She borrowed Sharpclaws''s shirt, but it was too narrow on top and too short below. "Can you give me some underwear at least? I don''t want the others to see me like this!"


    ¡°No problem, honey, but you should flash those parts more often. Nice rack!¡± There she went again. In the few minutes it took for Prof to more or less remove the filth from himself, Mini was already all over the poor Orc. Good. Prof was safe for the time being.


    ¡°Mini, do you have some clothes for us guys too? It¡¯s windy down there.¡±


    ¡°Ah, spoilsport! Let¡¯s see¡­ These would fit you, sweetheart, for you, Prof, take these pants. Should more or less fit you. As for you, big guy, I don¡¯t have anything. Oh, wait, you could wrap yourself up in this.¡±


    Bianca was handed a¡­ no way! She got a chain bikini, of all things! Unbelievable! Prof''s "pants" were a pair of knee-length black Lederhosen, halters included, while Wolfgang had to wrap his waist in a colorful piece of textile. They looked ridiculous. What was this? Barbarian cosplay or a convention for tribal people from all over Arkadia?!?


    ¡°Miss Mini, these don¡¯t cover much! I¡¯m still almost naked! Can you give me some other clothes?¡±


    ¡°No. I''m not a costume rental. Bear with it till you get your own stuff back. Actually, it looks good on you and armored underwear is a very good thing to have. You can even keep it, I have another two."


    ¡°But my behind and breasts are still sticking out! Please!¡±


    ¡°No, they are not sticking out that much. Look at this piece. In this one, your ass and tits would hang out!" Mini waved another set of chain bikinis around. It was pink and skimpy. Who was making and buying these things, to begin with?! They were highly impractical! "You can choose, this pink one or the one you are wearing. You still have Sharpclaw''s shirt, wear that."


    Bianca grudgingly shut up and put the shirt back on, not even looking at the pink accessory.


    With everyone having some textile on, Prof assessed the look. Well, at least they were upgraded from cave people to barbarians.


    Or to people with an extremely bad taste in clothing¡­


    Funnily, Mini was the best clothed and had the most clothes on. That was probably a first and a record.


    Mini was able to supply everyone with some weaponry too ¨C Prof started to get curious, about how bottomless her Backpacks and Saddlebags of Holding truly were.


    However, Mini did not have any kind of axes, and Prof was proficient only in axes and daggers, so he was handed a long dagger of good quality and nicely engraved. If he remembered correctly, it was part of the Elves'' stuff, they did not want to bring. Mini probably decided otherwise. Bianca got the blue steel shortsword, they liberated from the bywaymen all those months ago. Oh yeah, Mini was holding on to some of their earlier loot. Wolfgang was the easiest and the hardest ¨C he had the most weapon Skills, but Mini still didn''t have any kind of axes, was freshly out of good swords and daggers, and the only instrument for making people dead she had and could be used by Wolfgang was an evil looking mace. It was made out of some kind of bone ¨C strangely not white but black ¨C with one end carved to look like a skull.


    Nothing could stand in their way to plunder their loot back! Nothing, but a dozen higher Leveled Brook Hags, but that was beside the point, and they were probably sleeping too. It was time for sneaking around, stabbing evil, kidnapping, man-eating Hags in the back, and looting their brains out! Onwards! For loot! And for clothes that deserved the name.


    The Barbarian Cosplay Convention was ready to roll!

 Chapter 11: Granite and Mythrill, Part 5

    Sharpclaw led the band of less-than-sneaky wannabe barbarians back into the ruins. From the remaining eleven Hags she found only six on the way to save Prof, and unfortunately, all but one were the lower Leveled ones. The more experienced Hags were nowhere to be found. Or rather, Sharpclaw wasn''t looking for them previously.


    The nearest one was a Level 7, sleeping in a shack made out of driftwood, vines, and rotting moss. Sharpclaw knifed her (it?) without a problem, a passable Skill in [Knives], and her Perks helped her immensely. Well, the Hag was sleeping, so the Perks geared for a clean assassination were probably overkill, to begin with.


    Prof looked around in the shack but didn''t see anything of worth, and his Scavenger Senses weren''t tingling either. All there was were scraps of fabric, cheap pottery, and unidentifiable clutter.


    They worked and killed their way through the known hiding places, all being crappy shacks, without any loot that had any worth. Prof even checked some of the pottery, but his [Valuation] gave such a low value ¨C a couple of iron bits if even that ¨C that he would have needed a whole wagon full of the junk to buy even a loaf of bread. It was strange. The Hags were obviously living in the ruins for some time, but they had no personal effects, not even cavehag-level trinkets.


    All in all, they dispatched another Level 7, a Level 8, two Level 9s, and a Level 12. To be fair, they took turns in pest control, Prof himself got one Level 9.


    The sneaking, slinking, and knifing took its time, by the time they finished, dawn wasn''t far away. Five Hags were still hiding somewhere, and with them alive and kicking, Prof and his friends were unable to search the ruins for Wolfgang''s book. Normally, they would retire to the woods, wait for the next night, and try again. However, with the weak fabric of space in the Valley, if they left on the land-side, they would never find Dunkelwald again. If they went by the way of the small river, they would present themselves on a platter to the Hags. Those ugly beasts were even more dangerous near the water.


    The only idea they had, was to split the party, do a quick sweep, and hope to find as many sleeping Hags as possible before they woke up and started wondering, where their sisters were, and why their food-slash-breeding stock was running around.


    Naturally, Mini and Binky were one pair, mostly because nobody else could control the scorpionlizard. Bianca and Wolfgang were another pair, and that meant, Prof went with Sharpclaw. The distribution wasn¡¯t ideal, Prof would have paired the two lizards together and mixed up the others, but it wasn¡¯t bad either.


    The exterminated Hags were all living in quite distinct shacks, so they only had to be on the lookout for another shack to find the next evil, loot-stealing monster. Prof was sure, anyone who captured innocent travelers for food and stole their stuff could only be a monster, no matter the official Arkadian classification for them. If a Human captured and wanted to eat him, and appropriated his stuff, he would call that Human a monster too! Loot was sacred!


    Well, knowing what to look for, didn''t mean, it was easy to actually find things to kill off. They were in an overgrown city ruin, and the Hags didn''t put up neon signs pointing to their overgrown shacks, made out of ruins. Prof understood the split in the team when Sharpclaw pointed at an overgrown ruin and declared it to be a shack. The little Kobold had a Perception of 14, while Prof only had 11. It was the same with Wolfgang and Bianca. The gerulian mercenary had a low Perception, but the Orc made up for that deficiency. Good thing, Mini was doing the division and not Prof, he would have paired himself with Bianca and Wolfgang with Mini¡­ Another arrow dodged! He still had a lot to learn.


    The shack housed a Level 11 Hag, fortunately still sleeping. Using [Observe] in every situation was still not ingrained in Prof, in stressful situations he mostly still forgot it. Stressful like being attacked by beasts or a band of Elves or a Hag by the riverside. This time, Mini stressed, using [Observe] was of utmost importance. Without using the Skill consciously, he could only be sure, he indeed saw a Hag (he did not need the Skill for that, being a Hag was quite obvious), but for more details, he had to concentrate. That¡¯s why he mostly forgot the Skill¡­


    He passed the kill to Sharpclaw, she was still low Level, and despite everyone agreeing, killing stuff wasn''t the way for a higher Level (probably), he thought, it wouldn''t harm anyone.


    Save the to-be-killed Hag, that is, but it made no difference to it (or was it her?), who knifed it to death while sleeping.


    The time they set for the sweep was coming to an end, so Prof decided to abandon the further search and return to the meeting place ¨C a more or less cleared square with a waterhole in the middle. Maybe it was a fountain a well or a decorative pond in the city¡¯s golden age. Or a waterhole, Arkadia was struck in medieval times, and the city belonged to a non-Human species. It could have been anything.


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    The other two teams were already waiting for them.


    ¡°Hey Prof, did you find anything?¡± Mini asked


    ¡°A Level 11. You?¡±


    ¡°My new boyfriend and the Titflasher didn¡¯t find anything, they were probably just fooling around.¡±


    ¡°Hey! These are your armored undies, Miss Mini! And you said, my breast aren''t sticking out that much! And I have a shirt, no way I''m flashing breasts! And I definitely don''t fool around with an unknown guy in a skirt!"


    ¡°No bumping happened! Not Boyfriend! Not skirt!¡±


    ¡°But why? You were alone and barely clothed! You should have bumped like rabbits!¡±


    ¡°Focus, Mini! Did you find any Hags!¡±


    ¡°Of course, I found some! I''m awesome! I killed two! An 11 and a 12! I''m entitled to a reward now, and I even have ideas, about what that should be" Mini winked to Prof, Wolfgang, and even Bianca.


    That was bad. Not the winking, that was just annoying, but the Hags. There should be at least two others on the loose, and at least one should be a Level 15 if Wolfgang was to be trusted in the numbers and Levels.


    ¡°Damn. Any clues as to where our stuff is kept? Did they even bring it back?" Prof realized, that he just assumed, the Hags collected everything and didn''t just leave the stuff to rot in the brook. He probably should have asked Mini if she found it previously. But surely, she would have told him already, if they waded through discarded valuables. Probably. Hopefully.


    ¡°There was nothing left at the ambush, just scraps of fabric and remains of mules," Mini assured him. So, the Epic Quest of getting the loot back was still on, and the non-existent tooltip still pointed to the ruins. Oh, and there was the side quest for Wolfgang too.


    ¡°We saw a big building that way¡± Bianca pointed to the West. ¡°It looked important, maybe the Hags deposited everything there.¡±


    ¡°Yes, mayor¡¯s office and not-quite-Guildhouse. My book probably there. Should start looking there.¡±


    The Wannabe-Barbarian Loot Retrieval Squad had at least a point to start retrieving the loot. And find the Orc¡¯s book.


    The building was indeed large and in quite a good condition ¨C at least in relation to the rest of the city. Without extra foliage and detritus camouflaging it, it looked like a concrete bunker, where the architect had the urge to put six decorative columns with a tympanum in front of the entrance. And smaller columns with smaller tympanums for every crenel-like window. And some friezes below the flat roof.


    Prof was sure, those thingies all had some name in architecture, but his [Architecture] was sitting at only 54%, so he did not know the words. What he did know, was that Greenskins built butt ugly buildings... You don''t have to have the Skill to know that, only good taste.


    Inside it wasn¡¯t much better. Columns at every possible and impossible place, tympanums above every door, those decorative thingies at the junction of walls and roof. Was there a clearance sale at the local columns-and-tympanums shop, or was the mayor friends with the shop owner and helped him out with increasing the turnover? Or had the Greenskins just a fetish for hard and erect things everywhere?


    As it turned out, neither the loot nor the book was in the Mayor¡¯s Office. In fact, it was empty of mostly everything, they found only a shitty alchemist station with a lot of raw materials. Those probably were worth some money, but came nowhere near the stuff Prof was missing.


    The only other thing they found was the Head Hag ¨C this time Prof didn¡¯t forget to use [Observe], and he was promptly informed, they were eye to eye with a Level 15 River Hag.


    Eye-to-eye as in Prof bumped into it when turning a corner, and both fell in a heap. If this were an Anime, you would be sure, the falling in a heap would also include some marginally comical almost-sexual hint, a lot of blushing, and hysterical slapping. That situation would also mean, Prof vomited out his last few meals, because, well the Hag wasn''t a cute anime girl, but an ugly hag.


    But, this is not an Anime.


    Prof fell on top of the Hag and was literally eye-to-eye with it. There wasn''t any comical tension, Prof wasn''t anywhere near womanly parts ¨C and was determined to kill anyone, who spread such fake news ¨C and there was definitely no blushing. There was a little bit of nausea on Prof''s part, though.


    His blanked-out brain did manage to fire some neurons up, that is actually why he managed to Observe the Hag. Seeing it was high Level ¨C meaning extremely dangerous ¨C his reflexes and muscle memory took over, and he went stabby-stabby on an old-looking lady lying on the floor. Having Skills and Perks did not help the Hag to escape the millennia-old truth: when quality steel met mortal flesh, the flesh always lost.


    Prof was thankful to the Heavenly Game Master and his System. Without his Skills and Stats and Perks and Whatnot, he would be just an average guy from Central Europe, without any "reflexes" and muscle memory would be limited to clicking with a mouse or typing on a keyboard.


    How different the worlds were! On Earth, he would be hunted down by law enforcement for being a homicidal maniac, on Arkadia he would probably only get a pat on his back. It was a dangerous road to walk, and no wonder the Elves were ready to just kill Travellers off without any question asked!


    Be as it may, there was only one Hag remaining, and that meant, looting was finally not far away!

 Chapter 11: Granite and Mythrill, Part 6

    The loot ¨C and the (hopefully) last Hag ¨C was located not far from the Mayor¡¯s Office, basically right across the street in another more or less intact building. More or less intact meant in this case that demolishing it and building something else on the lot was probably marginally less expensive than just repairing it. Assuming, there was a possibility to get a bunch of masons into the city.


    As it was, the building still had a roof, giving it an attribute of any good house (weatherproofing) and most of the ugly decorations were crumbling. That made it actually less ugly, but not by much.


    This time, the Hag ¨C a Level 10 Brook Hag ¨C wasn¡¯t asleep, and neither was it surprised by Prof bumping into it at a corner. On the other hand, neither was Prof¡¯s party surprised. Or wading through a brook on a rainy day. More importantly, they weren¡¯t screwed over by the finicky relationship of the Valley with space-time this time.


    Mini started shooting, Sharpclaw faded into the background ¨C most likely preparing to surprise the Hag with a hard and straight toy into the back ¨C while Prof and Bianca occupied its attention from the front. Binky prepared to launch itself at its future lunch too. Just as they practiced a few times and were planning to do with the very first Hag they stumbled upon. Wolfgang was hesitating for a few seconds, clearly not knowing, where his position should be, but finally decided to join the other two front-liners.


    In the end, they didn''t even need Binky to munch down on their enemy ¨C overwhelming firepower and numbers were enough. First, Mini''s bolt interrupted whatever spell the Hag was trying to cast, next Bianca slashed its chest diagonally, Prof stabbed it in the stomach and finally, Wolfgang bashed its head with a theatrical, overplayed smash. He then whirled around, mace planted on his shoulder, and struck a pose. Ok, so that was what Showman did¡­


    That Sharpclaw assassinated the Hag was just an afterthought.


    ¡°What time is it? It''s looting time!" Prof had to work on his stupid one-liners, that was clear, and not just because everyone else ¨C and that included Binky ¨C grimaced.


    ¡°Don¡¯t try to be funny, Prof¡± Mini told him with a strict face ¡°I¡¯m much better at it, you would be just a bad copycat.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I agree with Miss Mini.¡± even Bianca stabbed him in the back. Backstabbing was Sharpclaw¡¯s forte!


    ¡°Head hurtsssss. Pleasssse no more funny.¡± that little traitor!


    ¡°Me agree with others. Humor should be portioned carefully. The less humor one has, the more carefully. You out of humor.¡± hey, they only knew Wolfgang for a short time, and he already was a wiseass. Oh, he had a Perk for that¡­


    ¡°Fine, fine. Sorry. Oh look, loot!¡± that was either the best or worst change of topic in all of history. Probably best, because valuables were literally just lying waiting to be repossessed by any interspecies party in need of spending money came around. Well, since Prof¡¯s gang was the only interspecies party currently around, and they were in need of money¡­


    Almost equally importantly, they were in need of clothing too.


    Dragons weren''t the only species to build a hoard, obviously. The building was full of pilfered stuff, thrown haphazardly into piles. From coins to precious stones, metal bars and ingots, weapons, armor, clothing, books, jewelry, tableware, statuettes, vases, and even some furniture! If you had a few hundred years to pilfer a whole city ¨C and probably some adventuring folks ¨C you would end up with an unmovable quantity of more or less valuable stuff. The Hags had a few hundred years and did end up with more stuff than was healthy for any group that wasn¡¯t some kind of state.


    It was a wet dream for everyone with an urgent need for more money. No, it was a wet dream for everyone. Period.


    Wolfgang immediately set out to look for his book, while Prof and the others were just standing there stupidly. Prof thought about reenacting a certain duck with a top hat diving into a pool full of money, but unfortunately, there was no pool, the coins were just put into multiple heaps and some chests. That, and metal coins were hard, diving into a pile or pool full of them was probably painful.


    ¡°Right, guys, start looting." Prof finally said. "First, try to locate our stuff, hopefully, some of our extra clothes survived. Next, concentrate on precious stones, they are probably the most valuable for their weight. If you see something obviously extremely valuable, bring it back here, as soon as we finish with the first sweep, I will try to put a value to everything and we can decide, what to bring!"


    Well, Prof was a professional looter and it showed.


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    Finding their stuff was easy in the end ¨C it was just dumped in a pile in one corner, either the Hags did not have time to distribute the bags'' content, or just dumping stuff in a pile was how they did things. Both were possible, with all the mixed piles all around. The bad news was, that only the magical or shiny items were there. No camping supplies, no food, no mundane weapons, armor, or clothes ¨C from the latter, only scraps survived. Prof''s cool armor, bought all those months ago in the Afterlife Office was shredded, his nice axes missing, and only his Dire Bear suba was in the pile. Rest in pieces, dear stuff. Bianca was even less fortunate, nothing of hers was in the mortal plane anymore.


    ¡°Hey, Prof!¡± Mini interrupted his mourning ¡°I think, most of the stuff here is magical.¡±


    ¡°Why do you think?¡±


    ¡°Paper, cloth, and wood don''t do well in open spaces for hundreds of years. Look around! That¡¯s an Elven fluffy carpet over there, right on top of a four-poster bed, that includes a soft-looking mattress! Look how many books are there sitting around! Even the steel weapons have no rust on them! This here is a gold¡­ no, a diamond mine¡­ no, a mine for something more valuable than diamonds! If I¡¯m right, and I¡¯m always right, you could buy half a kingdom for the stuff!¡±


    ¡°We are filthy rich?¡±


    ¡°Yes and no. We would be filthy rich if we could move all of this. Move it outside the Valley, that is. And assuming no one thought, they would be a better guardian of our stuff than we are. As it is, we are not richer than a few days ago. Probably even poorer, because of the lost stuff.¡±


    All that shiny stuff made Prof forgot a very important detail: the Hags ate all of their mules. They had no transportation, no food, and no booze. Most likely they would even have to leave behind their previous loot too, just to reach civilization again.


    Maybe they could get dressed by the clothing articles lying around, but since Arkadian clothes weren¡¯t one-size and they didn¡¯t resize either¡­


    Crap¡­


    ¡°Me friend! Prof!¡± At least one was happy. Wolfgang bounced happily between the piles of invaluable valuables and priceless clutter ¡°Found book! Look!¡±


    ¡°Hey, Wolfgang. Say, can you identify magical stuff?¡±


    ¡°Sure! First thing you learn! Not now, need to read book! Later!" Wolfgang flopped down next to their stuff, looked around, and pointed to another pile "Me stuff! Stuff of band!"


    The Orc fished a leather vest out of the pile and put it on. It was black, had metal studs on the shoulders, and the skull of something pig-like painted on the back ¨C including chains, a metal hat, and glowing green eyes.


    ¡°Nice vest. What¡¯s that on the back?¡±


    ¡°That Warhog, family crest. See, this ancestor''s axe, it''s family heirloom!" Wolfgang held up a huge two-handed axe. What? Why would an axe need chords? Was it even possible to fight with it in its current state?!?


    Wolfgang did not care for Prof¡¯s confused look, sat down again, and started reading.


    Prof shrugged. Different species, different cultures, different sensibilities. No need to question them.


    The day went by with sifting through mountains of¡­ basically everything a deranged author could dream up in the way of "that should be cool to hand out someone". Mini was right, though; almost everything that was not a precious metal or stone was magical in some way, and a lot of the former was too. It would take a largish guild weeks to identify all of it ¨C but Prof had only access to only one magic user, and that was occupied with an ancestral book.


    Their sorting was sometimes interrupted by Wolfgang exclaiming loudly or oohing and aaahing. After a time, no one gave him any heed.


    The coinage (only counting gold and silver) only was in the order of several ten thousand something in value ¨C since Prof had not the faintest idea about exchange rates, all of it could be worth only a loaf of bread, but Prof doubted it very much. Loose precious stones in the order of a few hundred kilograms, enough jewelry and artwork to fill a ship, Prof feeling dizzy from all the wealth around him. Even if he only owned a fifth of all that and had to pay taxes¡­ No such a number simply did not exist, not even in math examples.


    It was close to dusk when they decided to be done for the day. They only ate very little the whole day, and Mini had only a few portions of trail rations, so food would be a huge issue in the coming days.


    ¡°Me friend! I been right!¡± Wolfgang joined them ¡°Tru Greenskin musics wasn¡¯t Granite in beginning. Ancestor recorded everything! Granite is just softer version of tru musics! Ancestor had name for it, but me not understood word. Not very good at [Dead Language: Old Greenskinian]. Called it steel but not steel. What is bester than steel? The bestest?¡±


    Prof''s first idea was gold. If you had enough, you could freely exchange it for every and all other metals. His next idea was some kind of steel alloy, or maybe something like Titanium, Chromium, Tungsten, or something like that. Then he remembered his shopping spree with Sandy. What was the very best metal there was on the list? Unobtanium, maybe, but if he remembered correctly, it was prohibitively expensive and almost impossible to obtain. What else? He hasn''t spent much time on the more expensive part of the catalog, seeing the price tags once was enough. He did remember, that the usual fantasy metals existent on Arkadia though, so why not?


    ¡°I think, the very best is Mythrill." almost every fantasy novel displayed it as the best, and he was neither a metallurgist nor versed in legends. Even his Skills told him so.


    ¡°Mythrill? Hmmmm¡­ YES! Me name old-new musics ????????????????!¡±

 Chapter 12: Oops! He did it. Again…, Part 1

    ¡°All right, Wolfgang" Prof finally said "You get your book and even rediscovered the true, ancient music of your people. What exactly is your people''s true, ancient music anyways? Please explain in short, easy, and simple words. Why is it so important?"


    That question irked him previously, but looting was more important for a time. After he played a role in naming a long-lost art, he started to get curious again, what all that fuss was about.


    ¡°See, Greenskins do everything with musics. Crafting, fighting, raising plants, paving roads. Everything! Need good musics for it. Greenskins now have mostly stupid Clay musics, not good musics. Crafting bad, raising plants bad, fighting really bad. Only few play Granite, mostly old songs. Book has tru musics, songs no Greenskin remembers. It¡¯s good musics! Will help Greenskins rise again!¡±


    ¡°All right, I understand, why it is so important.¡± helping a whole species to rediscover its roots and restore its former glory was good. Right? Right? Nothing could possibly go wrong with it. Right? ¡°But what is Clay, Granite, and Mythrill?!? You are good at singing, can you at least give us an example?"


    ¡°Can do better! I got me axe back, can play!¡±


    ¡°You play on a two-handed battleaxe?"


    ¡°Yes! Great ancestor said, tru musics can only be played on an axe! Traditional, tru people play on axe, not guitar! Pitty, making tru musics axes is almost lost. Is magical! Normal guitars not magical, mostly, and no tru musics. It¡¯s Clay. Here! Hear!¡±


    Wolfgang took his axe and strummed the chords. He wasn''t satisfied at first and tweaked the screws holding the chords a bit.


    ¡°First, Clay. Demeaning to play it on axe, but needed to understand difference.¡±


    To Prof¡¯s complete surprise, the axe turned out to be a high quality... electric guitar, to judge by the sound of it. Of course, the song was in Greenskinian, so Prof didn¡¯t understand the lyrics, and with only one singer and an¡­ axeman (axeorc?)¡­ guitarist¡­ the orchestra wasn¡¯t very good either. If Prof wasn¡¯t sitting, he would have fallen over, nevertheless.


    The song could be called pop music on Earth! With a proper band, maybe with a cute, barely-clothed chick as frontwoman, it could easily generate a multi-million Dollar income. It was actually quite good, even with the minimal means Wolfgang had currently. He was a good singer and guitar player, and back on Earth, he could become some famous star. He probably was one on Arkadia too.


    ¡°Next, Granite. This old classic for cooking food.¡±


    After tweaking the screws again ¨C Prof was almost sure, the thingies had a proper name too ¨C Wolfgang started a new song. Prof almost choked. Even when not understanding the lyrics, that was unmistakably Rock ¡®n¡¯ Roll. Or Hard Rock, the borders were somewhat fluid. Prof started to have a very bad feeling.


    ¡°I bring you MYTRHIL! Me not know song, it¡¯s from ancestor¡¯s book. First performance!¡±


    The very first riff sent Prof¡¯s jaw hitting the ground. He knew that riff, that intro, and that guitar solo. In fact, most Humans from Earth knew (or at least should know) it, even not knowing the title or the artist, because it was one of the most well-known songs of all time, it was iconic, it was¡­


    It was Heavy Metal!


    Who brought Metal to Arkadia?!? As soon as Prof asked himself the question, he realized, the answer was easy and obvious. The Elves even had a dedicated organization to hunt down people from Earth, which meant, folks were coming to Arkadia fairly frequently. That at least the Elves felt it necessary to observe or kill off whatevered Earthlings meant that they feared outside influences. If visitors were fairly frequent, and the influence was feared, it was to be expected, that some indeed left their mark on Arkadia. Why not Heavy Metal? Who knows, maybe the Elves'' own drive to bureaucratize everything could be traced back to a German public servant.


    Heavy Metal was actually better than German bureaucracy, or bureaucracy on its own, no matter the origin.


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    ¡°This is GOOOD!" Prof was woken from his musings by Mini screaming and jumping around in a vague approximation of the rhythm. Maybe Prof could introduce headbanging to Arkadia? Sure, why not? If there was already Heavy Metal, it should be done correctly. No face paint, though.


    ¡°Hey, Mini! You should do it like this! And hold your fingers like this!¡±


    ¡°Better! Wolfyboy, play it again! I LOVE IT!¡± It was highly likely, Arkadia¡¯s first Heavy Metal Groupie was born just now. Arkadia could have probably lived without the phenomenon¡­


    ¡°Prof, you know MYTHRILL?!¡±


    ¡°At home, we had something similar, Wolfgang.¡± technically not a lie ¡°Say, how do you performe usually?¡±


    ¡°Stand around, play axe or guitar, why?¡±


    ¡°No, no, no, that¡¯s not even good for Clay! You have to make a show out of it. It shouldn¡¯t be hard, you even have to Perk for it.¡±


    ¡°What you mean, make show?¡±


    ¡°For example, there is a guitar player, who jumps around the stage like this while playing." Prof showed a well-known one-legged hop. "But at least you should stand in poses like this or this" He wasn''t exactly a metalhead, but at least could show off a few poses. "You don''t have the hair for headbanging, that is what Mini was doing, but the basic principle is all right. As for clothes¡­ Invest in black. Heavy boots are also good. Maybe a heavy leather jacket, your family crest is ideal for the back of it. You could go with a top hat too. Or a bandana."


    Prof thought about becoming a stage manager or creative director for Wolfgang and his new band. He could hire a secretary or an intern to do the actual work, he would need to just talk platitudes, and look all-knowing. Good money for no work. Maybe as a hobby, if they could move at least a part of the Hags'' collection, he would be set for life.


    That night he dreamt about being filthy rich and owning a nice seaside mansion or castle. The dream turned into a nightmare when Mini organized a village-wide orgy and the tax collectors showed up. Dreams were sometimes just cruel.


    The next morning, Bianca ¨C still in the chain bikini and a shirt ¨C pulled him aside.


    ¡°Prof, you forgot a very important thing regarding Wolfgang.¡± That was true, he forgot to tell him to be on the lookout for gold diggers, don¡¯t do drugs, try to get some female background singers and revealing clothes for them¡­ ¡°You haven¡¯t discussed a loot contract with him yet. As it is now, he would be entitled to one share and we would get another.¡±


    ¡°One share for him and one for each of us wouldn¡¯t be bad. What¡¯s the problem with it?¡±


    ¡°You misunderstood. The four of us together would get one share, not one share for each.¡±


    ¡°What?! He would get half of the loot?¡±


    ¡°Exactly. Actually, you forgot to discuss loot rights with me, and I think with Sharpclaw too. At least Miss Mini made a deal with me in your stead. You should pay attention to this, I have seen happy looting turn into grimy fighting.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, Bianca, I will discuss it with him immediately.¡±


    ¡°Hopefully, he isn''t greedy. But again, we could always feed him to Binky." That was¡­ pragmatically put. And possibly a beginning of the "feed that guy to Binky, I don''t like him" attitude.


    Luckily, Wolfgang wasn''t greedy. In fact, he didn''t even want any of the liberated stuff, just his and his band''s remaining gear, plus the book to bring Metal to Arkadia. Prof, however, felt generous and convinced him to take an equal share on top of the book. [Commerce] informed him in time to make an exception for the book and gear, if they didn''t make it out with much, Prof''s party would have a partial claim to it.


    It was a sacred relic of Wolfgang¡¯s people, making money out of it wouldn¡¯t be right. As long as they had other loot to distribute, anyway.


    As for loot and need, they had two immediate problems: food and clothing. As the only one, who had any Skill with ranged weapons, Prof tasked Mini to try to hunt something to eat. Maybe she could scavenge some plants too, but most likely Prof would need to take over that task too, he had the highest [Herbology] of everyone present. Hopefully [Herbology] was the needed Skill, and not a slightly mislabelled other one, like, for example [Agriculture].


    As for clothing, Wolfgang was told to start identifying all the magical clothing they brought and the Hags collected. Hopefully, they could mix and match enough to be fully clothed again ¨C cosplaying Barbarians was slightly funny for a few minutes, but for leaving the Valley they needed proper clothes, armor, and boots. As soon as Wolfgang finished with the clothing, he was told to work on armor pieces the others collected in the meantime.


    Bianca and Sharpclaw were to shift through everything and look for Bags of Holding and the like; without those standard pieces of adventuring gear, they had no chance to move a considerable amount of loot. In fact, not even the stuff from the Elves could be reasonably moved with their current means. Prof felt cheated (again). From all the worlds in all the multiverses, he was on the only one, where Bags of Holding weren''t just laying around everywhere, or could be bought for pocket change in a family store in the ass-end of nowhere. There wasn''t even a conveniently abandoned truck parked in front of a working gas station!


    Fantasy worlds weren¡¯t like they used to be. On Arkadia you actually needed food, clothes didn¡¯t resize and degraded over time and use, and magical items weren¡¯t just dumped in convenient piles to be plundered.


    Prof shrugged and started sifting through the magical items that were just dumped in convenient piles.

 Chapter 12: Oops! He did it. Again…, Part 2

    The task to find Bags of Holding was mostly a bust. Only three were found, a Purse of Holding (a deep red velvet affair), a Briefcase of Holding (with straps included), and a small, pink Backpack of Holding. After Wolfgang identified them, Prof wasn''t exactly pleased.


    <u>Classy Velvet Purse of Holding</u>


    Material: Deep red velvet with a silk string


    Quality: Rare


    Properties: outside volume 500 cm3, inside volume 1.200 cm3, weight reduction 50%


    <u>Fancy Leather Briefcase of Holding</u>


    Material: Wyvern leather with brass fittings and buffalo leather straps


    Quality: Rare


    Properties: outside volume 12.500 cm3, inside volume 50.000 cm3, weight reduction 25%


    <u>Girly Backpack of Holding</u>


    Material: Pigwool body with silk lining, silver fittings, and buffalo leather straps


    Quality: Rare


    Properties: outside volume 15.000 cm3, inside volume 45.000 cm3, weight reduction 33%


    Unfortunately, Wolfgang was unable to unlock Guillermo''s bag, so they had access to only four, the fourth being Foxy''s Belly Bag. Mini probably still had room in hers, but still refused to let them use it for anything.


    The total of 96.200 cm3 ¨C that is, 96 liters ¨C seemed as much at the first glance, but in reality, it wasn''t. That was actually less than a single largish touring backpack and much less than one of the large ones, people routinely used for extended stays in the woods. Even counting their own surviving backpack, saddlebags and such ¨C and not even half survived the Hags'' attention ¨C they were looking at something like 300-350 liters of capacity. Sure, they could bind weapons together, and affix those and other things to the outside of their packs or simply hang it on their backs, but even so, they wouldn''t even make a dent into the hoard.


    In fact, even after two days of checking, they haven¡¯t managed to sort the piles into magical and mundane stuff. Barely a quarter was done.


    Wolfgang was hard at work to provide them with safe clothing, but when the sun set, he had only identified those Bianca, Prof, and Wolfgang indicated as a priority because of their approximately good sizes. Being stylish was a priority only for Mini, the others didn''t really care about that, as long the clothing more or less fit and they weren''t saddled with a curse.


    For example a pair of shorts that made the wearer horny.


    Prof quietly disposed of that particular piece before Mini became aware of it. Everyone agreed, it was a terrible idea to let the Vampire know of its existence.


    The useful and fitting clothing articles were an eclectic collection. Although Prof got shoes, a shirt, and a cap (including a tassel!), they were¡­ not exactly his style.


    <u>Blue Suede Shoes of Dancing</u>


    Material: Dire Deer leather with silk strings


    Quality: Uncommon


    Properties: +25% to [Dancing], +10% to [Party] and it is 10% more likely to get laid


    <u>Lumberjack¡¯s Plaid Shirt</u>


    Material: Flannel with buck-bone buttons


    Quality: Common


    Properties: +10% to [Carpenter], +10% to [Woodcutting], keeps the wearer warm till -10 degrees


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    <u>Wool Nightcap of Insomnia</u>


    Material: Common Wool


    Quality: Common


    Properties: +15% Resistance to [Magic: Sleep]. Minor Durability.


    It was off-white, decorated with little brown deer. Just fantastic.


    Bianca wasn''t luckier in getting clothes, either. She got sandals (with a bonus against setting traps off), a deep blue, knee-length skirt with white trim (which made her more liked by strangers and gave a bonus to singing), and a frilly shirt with puffed sleeves and high collar and done in a leopard-pattern (it made animals act friendly and gave bonuses to handling them). Since there wasn''t any underwear around ¨C at least ones Bianca was ready to equip ¨C she elected to keep the chain bikini on. It was extra armor if nothing else.


    Out of the three people seriously challenged in the clothing department, Wolfgang was the luckiest. Probably, because he was an Orc and they were in a Greenskin town with stuff made for an Orc''s proportions. Lucky not in the sense that he got actually useful stuff, but he at least wasn''t looking like someone clothed by a badly run, poor charity. The snakeskin boots went well with his newish grey denim-like trousers and a dark green sweatshirt. Between the gear he got better at riding, using a bow from horseback, digging holes, and making rugs.


    It took Mini ten minutes to stop laughing when she returned. She was laughing so hard, anyone who did breathing for survival and not just convenience would have suffocated. Laughing about poor, impoverished people who could not spend their tons of currency in the nearest tailor was just cruel. Especially, when the person doing the laughing was incapable to wear normal clothes.


    But then again, even her Character Parchment said, she was Cruel¡­


    Speaking of Mini. She was hunting the whole day, but only managed to bring back a medium-sized rabbit, a few birds, and a carp. When she was done laughing, she flipped the birds to Prof and started laughing again ¨C he was certain, flipping the bird wasn''t a saying in Bergian or Elven, so didn''t get the joke.


    During her hunting trip, Mini also found where the Hags dumped the items they did not want. It was a waste pit, so toxic, that even the highest quality items were degraded into uselessness. She could confirm it, she managed to fish the Elf Archer¡¯s fancy ¨C and expensive ¨C bow out of the sludge. It was more or less destroyed, despite sitting there for only a few days.


    So much for salvaging anything worthwhile.


    Nonetheless, it was barbarism. Perfectly good ¨C and very much expensive, thank you very much ¨C stuff gets destroyed just because it wasn''t made out of precious metals or was magical? Prof actually liked his axes and that fancy bow! Two thousand units of a developed Earth country''s currency of your choice went into shit for no good reason at all! Prof started to really hate Brook Hags. Stealing valuable stuff from innocent adventurers and then just destroying it was evil! In a famous fiction from Earth, it was all right to blow up a planet, but even the Evil Emperor respected private property!


    The bottom line was that they now definitely needed new armor and weapons. At least they had a huge hoard of stuff where the previous owners could not raise any objection to the redistribution of wealth. If no one was alive to say otherwise, it wasn''t stealing but retrieval of lost property. He would even make sure, some found their way into a museum where they belonged.


    If you are wondering, if Prof was a hypocrite, the answer is a resounding nope. There is a clear difference between killing under-developed folks off and selling the proceeds to the last nail for profit and getting raided by evil hags who just destroy everything. Human society (and obviously the Elven one too) was built on the former, those that tried the latter were simply destroyed for the Greater Good of Humanity (Elvenkind).


    OK, maybe Prof was a hypocrite, but not more than most Humans. And most likely less than the average Elf.


    Back on topic. Looting.


    Prof was certain, he saw some nice one-handed axes somewhere in the piles and decided to look for them again first thing in the morning. Hopefully, they were actually useful and didn''t just give bonuses for say, [Gardening], [Woodcutting], or [Swimming]. A nice mythical quality axe that doubled his Stats and killed everything he looked at would be awesome!


    He made the mistake of telling Mini about his hopes.


    After she stopped laughing, she informed him that, firstly, magical items almost never gave bonuses to Stats, certainly no weapons or armor. Secondly, killing everything he looked at would be inconvenient, mostly because he could not look at her gorgeous self anymore. Thirdly, he was an idiot, who should learn how Arkadia worked.


    Prof aggravated the situation by voicing his dilemma if it would be a good idea to get full plate armor. He saw one at the back of one of the rooms that were more or less his size.


    After Mini (and Bianca and Wolfgang, who both joined in the fun) stopped laughing, he was informed, that unless he had at least 100% in [Heavy Armour], trying to walk around and fight in heavy armor would lead to more problems than going without. He was geared toward speed and curtailing which would most likely lead to his demise. Even Bianca, who was the closest to a tank (or a wall, as they were called on Arkadia, no one having invented tanks yet) they had, had less than 50% in the Skill and was dismissive to use heavy armor herself.


    Prof felt like he was reduced to comedic relief. Actually, he felt like he was reduced to the marginally funny sidekick of the Main Character in a not-really-well-written fiction on the Earth-internet. The only question was, who the Main Character in the story actually was. Probably Binky, he was the most overpowered one he met since coming to Arkadia. Maybe Wolfgang with his legendary quest to bring metal back to Arkadia.


    Definitely not Mini, though. The story would have degraded into a harem troupe loooong ago.


    But waaaaait a second!


    Only Mini got laid in the last few months and potential love interests for her were constantly popping up! All right, "potential love interest" meant in relation to Mini "more-or-less breathes", so that wasn''t exactly narrowing things down, but still.


    Was Prof turning into the funny sidekick of a crazy, nymphomaniac Vampire?


    Prof vowed to himself to be more proactive in the future, not to be accused to be a passive character in his own story.

 Chapter 12: Oops! He did it. Again…, Part 3

    For the day, they had three objectives: find two axes for Prof, find a sword and a shield for Bianca, and find light or medium armor for Prof, Bianca, and Wolfgang. Bianca''s shortsword was actually not bad, but she wasn''t really comfortable with it ¨C she was trained and used to handling longer ones. Prof first thought, she meant a common, well-known longsword, but was informed, that longswords were two-handed, what she was after could be translated as "arming sword", a one-handed one with a straight, double-edged blade.


    Prof wasn''t really well-versed in sword typology and always thought, longswords were long, one-handed ones, bastard swords were one-and-a-half-handed, and the big, two-handed were called claymore. However, Bianca was born and raised in a medieval world and knew her swords better than an Earthling who only saw swords in a museum, so Prof decided to take the mercenary''s wisdom at face value. She most likely knew better.


    The basic problem wasn''t finding weapons and armor, but finding ones that were matching their expectations. Normally, one would try the goodies out before settling on the best one, but the overwhelming majority of deadly implements in the hoard were magical ¨C and no sane person would try out an unknown magical weapon. A large part of the rest was made of precious metals and were decorative pieces, not made for battle. There were a few pieces around, that weren''t magical or made for posing, but made of different fantasy metals. Very few, mind you, if there was a, say, mythrill sword, it was most likely it was converted into a magical mythrill sword in short order. If you have the means to buy a Ferrari, you don''t settle for the base model with a one-liter engine, after all.


    The over-abundance of magical weapons and armor with the inability to test them out meant, that Wolfgang was saddled with identifying stuff all day. Again.


    In the end, Prof found thirty axes or so all told, but only a dozen made it into the narrower selection ¨C the rest being ornamental pieces or ones where the sizes and forms weren''t his likings. Out of the dozen, only four remained after Wolfgang was done with them. The other eight were all right too (except that one, that gave a Perk for intimate interactions with the opposite sex as long as held in the hand ¨C kinky. That was a piece of equipment Mini didn''t have to know about), but the four were either simply better in their effect or had a unique one.


    <u>Nightwalker Axe</u>


    Material: Nightwood handle with a black lunir head


    Quality: Rare


    Properties: 60 centimeters long, one medium head, one flat head. +20% to [Sneak] in the dark, +10% Critical Chance, inflicts bonus life drain damage (if the user is undead, the life drain will heal him), on command, surrounds the user in magical darkness (user''s sight will not be affected) for 5 minutes once every 24 hours. +10% damage to Necromancy spells. User''s Initiative is considered 10 Points higher in darkness. Unbreakable.


    Damage: 30-80 (+2-20 Life Drain)


    <u>Armourbane</u>


    Material: Ironwood handle with Orichalcum-Tungsten-Chromium alloy heads


    Quality: Rare


    Properties: 45 centimeters long, one armor-piercing spike, one small head. Armour against the small head is considered 25%, against the armor-piercing head 66% less effective. 25% chance that the armor is completely ignored. Damage is not affected. 20% chance a successful critical hit will cause heavy bleeding (10% of the inflicted damage/Sec) until treated. Unbreakable


    Damage: 20-40


    <u>The Chopper</u>


    Material: Bloodwood handle with red lunir head


    Quality: Rare


    Properties: 40 centimeters long, one large head. +20% Critical Chance, +30% Critical Damage. 10% chance a Critical Hit on the extremities will sever, 10% it will cripple, and 10% it will paralyze the limb. 33% chance a successful hit will cause heavy bleeding (15% of the inflicted damage/Sec) until treated. Wounds caused will always leave scars behind, no matter the healing method. User''s Initiative is considered as 5 Points lower. Needs a one-time donation of 66 HP-worth of blood to bind and a daily donation of 5 HP-worth of blood afterward (not necessarily of the user). Durable. Sharp


    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    Damage: 15-50


    <u>Treesquizer-Squizer</u>


    Material: Magically altered Elf femur handle, Deadwood heads with magically altered Elf incisors as the edge


    Quality: Masterwork


    Properties: 50 centimeters long, two medium heads. +50% [Intimidation] (+100% against Elves), 10% chance to cause fear in enemies (25% chance against Elves), 66% chance Elves will be enraged. Double damage against Elves. On Critical Hits 100% chance to inflict moderate bleeding (5% of the inflicted damage/Sec) until treated (heavy bleeding against Elves ¨C 10% of the damage/Sec). 10% chance to inflict rot on every successful hit. Can not be used against Greenskin races. Unbreakable.


    Damage: 25-66 (50-132 against Elves, 0 against Greenskin.)


    Neither was exactly perfect for Prof, it was clear that each one was custom-made for someone with a clear idea, of what was needed from their new ¨C and expensive, he blanched at the value [Valuation] gave him ¨C toy. Obviously, the generic +1 sword wasn''t a thing on Arkadia. If someone had the money for a fantasy-metal weapon and for making it magical, only the best was accepted.


    If the party wasn¡¯t constrained by weight limits and still stuck in the middle of the Valley, Prof would have taken all four (and a few others too), and have switched between them as the need arose. As it was, he had to pick the two that he felt were best for him. Without much in the way of outside help. There was no wikipedia to point out meta-gaming builds and he couldn¡¯t even ask around in a forum. When asked, the others mostly just shrugged ¨C Bianca even told him, that telling others what kind of gear and Skills to choose was considered rude and implicated, the person who was told was considered a moron or a child. Suggestions were all right, but with such a complicated choice, most of them didn¡¯t have an opinion.


    Except for Mini, of course. She flat out told Prof to choose the Treesquizer and the Intimate Hacker (of course, she found out about that one. Luckily the Wet Pants were safely hidden away). Because one looked fantastic and the other was extremely useful.


    That made it easier to disregard the Treesquezer. Actually, it was the highest quality of all four, with very good crowd control properties ¨C but the negatives were more severe. Currently, he knew exactly one Greenskin, and that one was basically a good guy, but having a weapon that did exactly nil damage to every other Greenskin who came his way (especially because he became rich) was too much of a risk for him. The double damage against Elves couldn''t negate that point. Not to mention, Elves already hated other species, parading around with an axe made out of Elven parts and practically guaranteed any Elf to become enraged¡­ Was the Darwin Award a thing on Arkadia?


    Actually no, but they had the Utter Moron Perk ¨C it was handed out preemptively, though.


    Back into the pile, the Treesquizer went.


    He picked Armourbane without much of a thought, that axe was the closest to perfect for him out of all the choices, and he liked the armor-piercing properties especially.


    The other two were trickier.


    The Nightwalker had the highest damage and would make him faster in combat, but most of the properties weren¡¯t all that useful to him. He wasn¡¯t exactly known for sneaking around the dark, and the only thing he knew about Necromancy was that it made dead people undead.


    The Chopper on the other hand was close to perfect with all the bonuses for Critical Hits and extra damage, but it was to only one that wasn''t unbreakable. Neither were his original axes, but he hasn''t used them all that much, so wear and tear wasn''t an issue with them. However, he imagined a magical weapon, made out of "Red Lunir", whatever that was, would need more qualified attention than just running a whetstone along the edges every now and then. Also, it made him actually slower to react. Not to mention that tiny little bit of needing about half his HP pool to bind it to himself and constantly feeding it blood afterward. And the scar¡­


    Was it considered sexy to have scars or did they just inform everyone that the person was a poor bastard who couldn''t even afford proper healing? According to the others, it depended on culture ¨C in some places, it was considered heroic, in others as proof of incompetence while some didn''t care either way. With Greenskins it was the second, in Forestdeep it depended on the Estate. His friends were helpful like usual.


    With a heavy heart, he decided on the Chopper. It simply had more utility and complemented his style more. He made a cut below his left ribs for the first "donation". It hurt like hell, and in an instant, his HP plummeted by half. He hoped it was worth it.


    Bianca was much quicker in choosing her new armament, despite there being more swords than axes in the pile. Her reasoning for taking only a bottom-tier sword (a strange steel alloy with only basic bleeding and armor-piercing enchantments) and a comparable round medium shield (ironwood with an ogre head done in some green metal as the shield boss. It had a small chance to inflict fear in an enemy) was that it wasn''t a particularly good idea for a Level 10 Normal to flaunt gear that could feed a family for decades. A noble family to be precise. She had already more magical gear than she was comfortable with.

 Chapter 12: Oops! He did it. Again…, Part 4

    With the question of how they would make critters dead sorted out, all that was left was to answer the question of how to prevent critters to make them dead.


    The problem with armor wasn''t the sheer quantity they could choose from but said the collection almost exclusively came in Greenskin-sizes ¨C Goblin, Hobgoblin, Orc, and Ogre. For example, Bianca was short for a Human, and was outright diminutive in comparison to Orcs and Ogres, but was still larger than any Goblin. Even Hobgoblin armor was too large for her, with wrong proportions: Hobs were obviously stockier with longer arms and shorter legs.


    She settled for a Bluesteel chainmail coif that came even with a veil, a pair of leather vambraces, and a pair of greaves made of layered and lacquered paper. The last one wasn''t exactly well-fitting but was the closest she could find. Prof was surprised that armor could be made from paper but was informed that yes, it was a widespread custom, and it made a surprisingly durable and lightweight alternative to more expensive leather and metal. Actually, the paper greaves had almost the same armor rating as Prof''s decomposed original leather ones!


    Of course, Bianca¡¯s new gear was magical, but still.


    Sharpclaw was the easiest to outfit: she didn¡¯t want any gear, she said, it was detrimental to sneaking around and stabbing folks in the back.


    Wolfgang just took a horned, open-faced metal helmet, the other possible gear wasn''t to his liking.


    As for Prof¡­ He was somewhere between a Hobgoblin and an Orc in stature, so most pieces were either too large or too small. Those with approximately the right size were mostly metal ¨C considered as heavy armor, which wasn''t beneficial to Prof. For example, there was a matching set of full plate that made him salivate. Even without it being magical ¨C which it was ¨C it probably cost more than the GDP of smaller countries on Earth. An A380 as a private jet, the Queen Mary 2 (or any of those boringly ugly cruise ships) as his yacht, and a luxury car for every day of the year? He could probably buy all of those for the price of that one set, and would still have enough pocket change for his great-grandkids never to have to work.


    It was a nice fantasy.


    The reality was, however, that he wouldn''t make it out of the Valley alive because of his lacking Skill, and even if he made it out, he would have been robbed as soon as he entered civilized society.


    Bianca was right, an under-leveled nobody should not have such obviously over-leveled and priceless artifacts in their possession.


    Especially, when they couldn¡¯t utilize the properties correctly.


    The only Mythrill shirt around was sized for smaller folks, Goblins, most likely, but he couldn¡¯t rule out that a Hobbit left it there. There were rings around aplenty¡­


    That left him to mix and match sub-par trash.


    <u>Brigand¡¯s Brigandine</u>


    Material: Swift Thief hide on the outside, Shadowsteel inlays, panther fur inside


    Quality: Rare


    Properties: Gives the wearer the Perks Roadside Tax Collector (+20% money from extorting merchants) and Raider Chief (+10% to all fighting Skills for up to 12 subordinates when fighting against mercenaries, militia, or law enforcement). Durable.


    Armour Rate: 62 (on upper body and waist)


    <u>Elvish Floaties</u>


    Material: Sheatfish hide


    Quality: Uncommon


    Properties: Let the wearer float as long as his and his equipment¡¯s weight is less than 150 kilograms. +10% to [Swimming]. Marginally Durable.


    Armour Rate: 20 (on forearms)


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    <u>Champion¡¯s Shinguards</u>


    Material: Gazelle hide


    Quality: rare


    Properties: Gives the wearer +25% running speed (+50% when running for less than 100 meters), +25% to [Sports: Bloodball]. +25% to [Evade]. Unbreakable.


    Armour Rate: 35 (on lower legs)


    <u>Warrior Crown</u>


    Material: Rim and six bands orichalcum alloy, green lunir spikes


    Quality: Rare


    Properties: 50% chance of not falling unconscious from hits to the head, -15% Critical Chance against the wearer''s head, -25% Critical Damage against the wearer''s head. Major Durability.


    Armour Rate: 45 (on the head)


    That was underwhelming. Either the properties were useless or the gear looked ridiculous. Prof didn''t exactly care about the knowledge the shinguards gave him either. Bloodball was obviously a widespread sport West of the Valley, played by both Humans and Greenskins. A ball had to be thrown, carried, kicked, smuggled, or brought in any other way to the opposite goal, while the teams could attack each other in any unarmed way.


    Prof was absolutely certain, he was never going to play it, and most likely wouldn¡¯t watch it either.


    Useless knowledge.


    With all the eclectic gear they put on themselves they looked like casual noobs in an MMORPG ¨C unfortunately, there only a few people laughed about you, in the real world practically everyone. Even Prof wanted to laugh if he wasn''t so embarrassed. Mini, on the other hand, had another laughing fit ¨C while wearing one of her usual outfits. Why was it fashionable to wear some impractical getup, but laughable to dress in highly valuable legitimate salvage?


    No male will ever understand fashion anyway.


    When Mini was finished laughing, Wolfgang approached them with a piece of metal in hand.


    ¡°Me friend, me found something. Look!" He presented the item. It looked like the part of an arc, heavily inscribed in an unknown alphabet. It was pretty and probably valuable.


    ¡°It part of teleportation array!¡± Wolfgang clarified noticing their empty gazes. That was good. Probably. Would they be able to beam up to the ship? Did they need a tricorder for scanning the place? They were surrounded by tons of funny metal, would the transporter even work?


    ¡°We find other pieces, me maybe get it work. It maybe lead to border of Valley." Indeed, that was good. If they could teleport out of the Valley, they could take much more loot with them, maybe even everything! Prof''s endless quest to get rich would be over! Four months or so on Arkadia (and thirty-five on Earth) was an almost endless amount of time.


    ¡°That would be fantastic! How many pieces are we talking about?¡±


    ¡°This look like standard Greenskin mobile array, eight other pieces, maybe nine. Six or seven look like this, one is short pillar, one large crystal.¡±


    ¡°All right, everyone, this is our priority! We have to find these pieces, and hopefully, we would be finally able to leave the Valley as rich people! Go, go, go!" Prof asserted his resolve, motivating his party members. The reaction wasn''t exactly overwhelming bliss. Maybe he shouldn''t have sent everyone looking through the piles again late in the afternoon, even before they had dinner.


    Mini got more reaction from everyone when she presented her hunting spoils, namely a turkey-like bird. It was much better than the food she was able to acquire in the previous days. At least in quantity. With how bad everyone''s [Cooking] was, and without any spices, the meat was barely edible. The very first thing Prof wanted to do as soon as they re-joined civilization was to have a true medieval (or, more likely, a true Roman) feast. If anyone tried to feed him porridge or dried goods, he would physically abuse even his neighbor''s dog. And he would pledge self-defense.


    The second thing was to commission a cook who would follow him and make edible and filling food, no matter the place or time.


    The next day, finding most of the pieces was actually easy. The Hags collected everything that was marginally magical or made out of precious metals, but didn''t do anything with the collection, just placed it into random piles. The array''s missing parts were mostly around two meters high and arm-thick pieces of metal and as such quite conspicuous. It took them more time to dig the pieces out of the piles than to actually find them ¨C actually, they moved more than half in the previous days and had an idea, of where to look for them.


    The only problematic piece was the crystal that functioned as a battery, conductor, distributor, or whatever. They had to literally dig through the whole hoard again to find one specific, fist-sized crystal. By the time they finally found it ¨C surprisingly it was in the very last pile they looked through ¨C Wolfgang already assembled the array itself in a room in the Mayor''s Office. If Prof expected some kind of occult masterpiece of high-fantasy magickness, he was sorely disappointed. There were no vessels for blood sacrifice, no colorful candles, burning incense clouding the air, amazing visual effects, just two concentric metal circles with a chest-high pillar in the middle.


    It looked a bit crappy.


    Prof wasn''t really familiar ¨C or at all ¨C with how Greenskin magical teleportation arrays should look and work, but was almost certain, the pieces should result in concentric circles, not concentric ovals or potato shapes. The central pillar was visibly leaning to one side too, with a slight bend in the middle. When looking at the pieces separately, the bends weren''t all that obvious, as in the final product. Wolfgang looked concerned when the party arrived with the crystal.


    ¡°Me friend, we have problem. Array is barely functioning.¡± It didn¡¯t just look crappy, it was truly crap.

 Chapter 12: Oops! He did it. Again…, Part 5

    ¡°Barely working? What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Pieces bad, bent. Me not know [Magic: Space-Time], not know [Repair: Metal], and others to repair array.¡±


    ¡°All right, I can see, it isn¡¯t looking like it probably should. What does it mean for us? Will it teleport us to a random location or not at all?¡±


    ¡°No random location. Arrays have to be keyed to exact location. This goes to Burg Seeblickstein, castle on border of Valley, array brings us to castle or nowhere else.¡±


    ¡°What is the problem then?¡±


    ¡°Weight.¡±


    ¡°Weight? As in?¡±


    ¡°Yes, weight, as in how much array could transport in one go. Me not sure, but think, array will blow above one ton teleported.¡±


    ¡°So, we have to do multiple ones to get everyone and everything out. I don¡¯t see a problem with that. It just takes longer.¡±


    ¡°Me don¡¯t think, array will able to do more than one teleport. Recommend, stay below one ton.¡±


    ¡°NOOOOoooooooo!" Of course, Prof haven''t asked the girls for their weights, it would have been rude, and no one did that and expected an honest answer anyways, but suspected the bipedal part of the party was not less than three to four hundred kilograms. Binky, though? How much did such a murder machine weigh? At a cursory look, maybe something in the order of five hundred, most likely not much below that.


    That meant, at best, they could move two hundred kilograms of equipment and loot, at worst only a hundred. Since there was no scale available, they would need to guess ¨C not a good idea when the limit wasn¡¯t exactly known, and the consequence of exceeding the limit was their transport blowing up. That sounded inconvenient. Painful. Maybe lethal.


    Prof wanted to cry. All that fine loot would have to be left behind! There was a chance, they couldn¡¯t even move all of their current gear ¨C Mini¡¯s collection of clothing and knick-knacks was a prime candidate for too much weight. Prof came to a new world, and the first time he needed to use transportation that wasn¡¯t leg-driven, a boarding examiner just told him, his luggage was too large or heavy to be transported without extra fees! Damn budget carriers ¨C or in this case crappy budget teleportation providers!


    The well and tried method of just wearing as much clothing as possible to make room for the souvenirs wasn''t practical here: they had a limit on total weight, not the weight of the luggage. Excess clothing had to go! If Prof wasn''t so distracted by the possibility of abandoning the poor, traumatized lonely loot to itself, he probably wouldn''t have said that out loud in the presence of Mini.


    ¡°YES! You are right! Strip, everyone!" Mini led by example, starting to shed her clothing. It only took a few seconds, she wasn''t wearing that much. As usual¡­


    ¡°No, no, I literarily meant excess clothes, those we are not wearing. Look, I couldn''t live with myself if you got a cold because you were naked! Put the clothes back on!" Actually, it was August (of course, Arkadia never had a Roman Empire and an emperor named Augustus, so the month couldn''t have been named after him. The Elves called the month "Warmy", the Bergians "Sixth"), so it was impossible for anyone to get a cold, and it was highly unlikely, that an undead would get a runny nose even in the most severe blizzard. However, Prof had enough experience with Mini already to know, that even the most outrageous claim could be twisted into a sane outcome. Like her getting or remaining clothed. All it took was to make her feel important, appreciated, and cared for.


    Every psychiatrist would probably tell him, that was the exact wrong thing to do, but hey, it worked.


    ¡°Wait!" the re-dressing somehow took more time than the de-dressing "You don''t mean that I would need to leave my precious behind?!? Do you dare?! Do you know how long it took me to collect everything?"


    ¡°But, think about the weight! We could bring more gems and jewelry¡­"


    ¡°No, Prof. No stupid stones and shitty jewelry is worth as much as my irreplaceable things!"


    ¡°Look, Mini, we have a weight limit for the array, and we don''t know how much everything weighs, so we have to be very strict with what we take with us."


    ¡°Of course, we know how much we weigh, the rest we can reasonably estimate."


    ¡°What? How?¡±


    ¡°It''s on the Character Parchments, dummy. Height, weight, natural and current hair, eye and skin color, sizes, everything is there."


    ¡°You are joking! I haven¡¯t seen anything like that!¡±


    ¡°It''s right there on the front, where your Stats, Perks, and other values are listed. Gender, age, and species are the three characteristics that are displayed outright, you have to concentrate to see the rest. Usually, the three are enough as information, but the details are there nonetheless."


    ¡°Why hasn''t anyone told me yet?!?"


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


    ¡°It is mostly uninteresting information, not many care about them, and that''s why they are hidden. Not to clutter up the Character Parchment."


    Prof concentrated, and indeed, every possible detail was listed. Including the length and diameter of his¡­ khmmm¡­ one of his most precious (and on Arkadia, more-or-less as yet unused) organs. Oh, there was even the weight of his current equipment listed.


    Prof himself was 81 kilograms and had equipment totaling another 18. A quick count revealed that not counting Binky and its trappings, they were at around four hundred kilograms already. If the scorpionlizard wasn''t excessively overweight, they could take even some loot with them.


    ¡°All right. How will we know, how heavy Binky and the gear on it are? It doesn''t have a Character Parchment to list the exact measures." It was time for brainstorming!


    ¡°Prof, you have been around Binky for a long time. Haven''t you figured out, that he is a good boy? Calling him it is insulting! And rude! And, and, and, what is that word for being insensitive?"


    ¡°Word you looking for is insensitive.¡± Wolfgang helpfully supplied.


    ¡°Yes, that too!¡±


    ¡°Sorry¡­ So, how will we know how heavy he is?¡±


    ¡°Quite easy, I will check on my Character Parchment. Since he is my mount, I can view his values.¡±


    So much for brainstorming. Prof almost expected, they would need to come up with a homemade scale, where they put a set amount of water into buckets until Binky was lifted off the ground. Or something like that. Mini''s solution was actually much easier. However¡­


    ¡°If you could do that, why haven¡¯t you told us so already?¡±


    ¡°Where would be the fun in it? The others probably already knew, being able to view your pet¡¯s values is a well-known fact. Even folks who grew up in a cave should know it.¡±


    ¡°You just made fun of me? That¡¯s just cruel!¡±


    ¡°Of course not! This was a valuable lesson, if you haven¡¯t figured out the right questions or facts, we would have told you, maybe in an hour or two. Right?¡±


    ¡°I decline to participate in this conversation," Bianca said with a smile.


    ¡°Missster funny!¡±


    ¡°Learning lessons is very important. Helps with raising Skills."


    Traitors, traitors all around.


    ¡°So, Mini, how much does Binky, including trappings and your stuff weigh?"


    ¡°Good, question, Prof! According to the Character Parchment I can access because Binky is my pet, the combined weight is almost exactly five hundred kilograms." Was Mini trying to disguise herself as a teacher? She had the tone down, but the overall picture was marred by her usual skimpy clothes and the lack of glasses. If she got glasses, she could star as a teacher in those films, however¡­


    ¡°So, nine hundred kilograms so far. How certain are you, that the array will blow above one ton but not below?" Prof asked Wolfgang. It was quite a difference if they could go up to a ton or had to keep a safety margin. A difference of potentially tens of thousands of Earth-currency.


    ¡°Me almost certain, the array will blow around a ton. No way to tell exact limit."


    Damn. That meant a safety margin. Was five percent enough, or should they rather be on the safe side and go for ten?


    ¡°What do you think, guys? What kind of reserve should we keep?¡±


    ¡°Go for the whole ton! What could possibly go wrong?¡±


    ¡°Me think no going much above nine hundred, keep below nine-fifty.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I agree, we should stay between nine and nine-half.¡±


    ¡°Misssster the bosssss. Sharpclaw doessss what bossss sssaysss.¡±


    Disregarding an Irresponsible Vampire and a subservient Kobold, the consensus seemed to point to keep a healthy margin.


    ¡°All right. We should aim for something around nine hundred twenty-five. Mini, please go through your stuff. Please, discard everything you deem replaceable and unimportant. Yes, I know, they are your irreplaceable precious thingies, but there should be things that are less-than-irreplaceable. Please, I know, you can be generous and not cling to unimportant stuff."


    That was actually a good try. On Earth, he probably would have convinced his ex-girlfriend not to take the hair dryer and a large suitcase for an overnight stay. His [Convincing] on Arkadia, however, was only at 80%, which was more-or-less insufficient for a Vampire who really liked her stuff¡­


    In the end, Mini only found less than a kilogram worth of items she was comfortable leaving behind. Who would have thought?


    That meant, Prof had to look for the most valuable stuff for the limited margin they still had. What was there?


    Without a thought, he emptied Foxy''s Belly Bag of Holding the collected animal parts, they were taking up to much space for an unknown reward.


    Simple currency was immediately out, even their own coins would be left behind, save for a few silver for each. Metal coins simply weighed too much for their value.


    Mundane jewelry had the same problem, albeit less. Magical jewelry was much more valuable. Out went his collected emergency reserve ¨C he only kept the ring he found in the Dire Wolf''s den all those months ago, and a few pieces he wanted to convert into a lucky charm. Hopefully, the Greenskins could help with that, the Elves weren''t willing or able to make one. Of course, he kept the game pieces from the dungeons. If there wasn''t a quest system on Arkadia, but he did receive a quest to collect them, they were probably more valuable or important than the first look would suggest.


    After some thinking, Prof decided to strike any extra magical weapon and armor too, including the stuff from the Elves. Too much volume. He kept his few trinkets, however. He even debated leaving their hodgepodge armor collection behind, but since he didn''t know what to expect from the Greenskins, he kept them in the end.


    By throwing away ballast, he freed up another twenty kilograms or so.


    It was time to look for the most valuable, lightest stuff to plunder.

 Chapter 12: Oops! He did it. Again…, Part 6

    The most valuable, lightest stuff was¡­ gems. The four Bags of Holding they had available could hold a bit less than three hundred fifty kilograms of cargo while having a weight of only two hundred and fifty or so. If it was just a question of volume, they could have taken quite a bit of loot, the real constraint was the weight limit they had to work with the array ¨C forty-five kilograms of "outside" weight.


    It was a very nice mathematical problem to solve. Or could have been. Sharpclaw was useless with solving it ¨C her [Mathematics] was sitting at 17%, and she had even problems counting on her fingers to two. Bianca wasn''t much better with 33%. Prof had 54%, but while it was enough for everyday survival, he didn''t feel like solving the puzzle successfully. The best mathematicians they had were Wolfgang and Mini, with 75% and 80% respectively. Not ideal, either.


    Let¡¯s see¡­


    It was actually an easy problem to solve. Foxy¡¯s bag had an inside volume of a bit over ten liters, and so could hold thirty-five kilograms of stuff, and with weight being cut down to a quarter, that was a bit below nine kilograms ¡°outside¡± weight. The next best was the Classy Purse, with halving weight and one point five liters volume. It could hold four point two kilograms inside, with a bit above two in ¡°outside¡± weight.


    After that came the Girly Backpack, which could hold the rest of their moveable weight, thirty-four kilos ¡°outside¡± and fifty-one ¡°inside¡± weight. For a total of ninety kilograms. Mathematics was easy. Especially, when you just had to shovel loot into bags and a convenient screen told you the result. It was almost like a pocket calculator at home¡­


    Actually, back on Earth Prof had not the faintest idea, of what precious stones cost, he wasn''t rich enough to deal with the question. He only knew they were really expensive ¨C the four true precious stones more than the rest. Even on Arkadia, his [Valuation] wasn''t high enough to give really accurate returns. Probably he would need [Jeweller] on a high level and tools too. Most likely a few months time to finish too.


    The price for such a haul¡­ If he would just fill the bags with mid-quality cut diamonds (that would be 450.000 carats, if anyone would wonder) for example, he would be sitting on more than three billion dollars (or Euros, if you are from Europe, or three hundred thousand gold for Arkadians). Assuming, the stones were mundane and not magical. The larger the stones, the more likely he put a target on his back.


    Two points were going in Prof''s favor: firstly, he simply did not realize the implications of having ninety kilos of precious or semi-precious stones in his pockets (he would have a heart attack just because of the numbers floating about), and secondly, luckily only a smallish part of the stones were loose true precious ones. All right, there was a third point too: he respected other people''s work enough not to just pry stones out of jewelry and items.


    Actually, there were only around forty kilos of loose stones lying around, and only ten percent were true precious stones, the rest being everything from malachite to topaz, peridot, and aquamarine. To be more precise, there were only forty kilos of stones above one or one-and-a-half carats, but there was a tub full of smaller splinters, and he suspected, the dirt also contained such. He decided, taking the tub''s contents was more hassle than gain, and sweeping the floor¡­ No, he would rather fill the remaining weight with jewelry. Preferably magical jewelry. Or such with large stones.


    Forty kilos of precious stones doesn''t sound like much, some would say, right? It''s actually a lot for any private person to have (it''s a lot even for a party of five to have), especially if you consider the price. It ranges from about three Dollars per carat for malachite to around twenty thousand for diamonds. Larger stones are disproportionately more expensive.


    Fifty kilos of magical jewelry, on the other hand, would sound as much, yes? Actually, no. Since Prof prioritized larger pieces, he ended up with only thirty pieces, with five of them not even magical. Most of them went into the Girly Backpack because the other pack''s mouths were too narrow.


    He did it! He stumbled upon unimaginable riches just out of nowhere and came out RICH! No more crawling around in dungeons for scrap iron, no hunting stupid animals and monsters! Yes!


    Before he left the building where the Hags collected everything, he did a very last sweep. His Scavenger-senses were tingling previously, so he wanted to be sure, he didn''t leave anything really important behind. The few hits he received were one tome, written in an unknown script, a nice chair, a life-size statue of a raven, made of some black metal, and finally, a small box with six little statues.


    Those belonged to the game set he had to collect! He left the other items, since those were too heavy, but took the game pieces. Progressing with a quest was always good!


    Wolfgang was already done with the preparations ¨C actually, he didn¡¯t need to do much, but set the director-crystal to work and wait for Prof to complete the looting.


    ¡°All right, girls and boys. Before we go, everyone goes to visit the latrine one last time. No need to burden the array with superfluous weight!" Prof cautioned everyone. Just like on a school trip.


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    Five minutes later, Wolfgang was directing them to certain places between the two circles.


    ¡°Pay attention. Parts stick out circles will stay behind. Powering array!¡±


    Prof wasn''t an expert in magical teleportation arrays but was almost certain, they shouldn''t emit pulsing light in sickly colors. Probably they shouldn''t belch smoke like an old steam engine either. Or screeching loudly.


    ¡°NO! Array blows! Shed weight! Quickly!¡±


    Shed weight? Just so, without a pricy diet or a personal trainer? Just swallow a pill and the weight will go away as it was magic? Oh, Wolfgang probably meant loot!


    ¡°NOOOooooooooo!¡±


    Wolfgang was the first, his cool pseudo-Viking helmet was already sailing out of the circle. Prof saw Bianca throwing her shield and sword away, followed shortly by her coif, and she was frantically trying to unbuckle her vambraces. Hopefully, that would be enough, Mini certainly wouldn''t throw her stuff away, Sharpclaw didn''t have anything and as for Prof¡­ Well, he would have to think really hard on what to throw away, do some valuation, and measure cost per gram to find something that wouldn''t hurt him all that much financially.


    His paralysis was interrupted by two quick tugs from his belt ¨C the Classy Purse and the Belly-bag were just gone! Sharpclaw was climbing up his legs, gaze fixed on the Girly Backpack and the Warrior Crown.


    ¡°Oh, fuck, nooooooooo¡­¡±


    Before the Kobold could deprive him of the last of the loot, the array did something. There was a very bright flash, a shrill sound, and a distant boom. Everything went dark.


    Prof woke up on a cold stone floor. The only light visible was the faint exclamation mark on the edge of his vision. He took a deep breath but coughed immediately. Wherever he was, it hadn''t been properly ventilated in a long time, the air was almost unbreathably stuffy. He was sure, however, that he wasn''t dead ¨C the afterlife office he visited was shitty, but at least it had lighting.


    ¡°Oh, no! The bags!" he realized, Arkadia did it again. Unimaginable wealth was dangled before his eyes, and as soon as he was happy to be rich, a good part was just taken away! It was the bywaymen-incident and the Hunting Licence-debacle all again.


    ¡°Prof, is that you? Are you all right?¡± It was Bianca¡¯s voice somewhere on his right.


    ¡°We lost most of the gems, I think I have to cry. However, it looks like I leveled."


    ¡°Yes, me too.¡±


    ¡°Sharpclaw leveled too!" the little loot-destroyer hissed from behind


    ¡°That makes four.¡± Mini was near them too. Binky made himself known by licking Prof¡¯s face. Prof really hoped, it was Binky, though, and not Sharpclaw or worse, Mini. It was most likely Binky, though, the breath smelled like the owner ate a couple of Brook Hags recently and the tongue was enormous.


    ¡°Me Level 11 now! Me Redcap now! Brought MYTRHILL to Greenskins!¡±


    ¡°Does that mean, we left the Valley? What happened?¡±


    ¡°Array too weak to handle the weight, almost blew. System says, I recovered lost treasure and brought it back to Greenskins, I thinks, we are in Ostwaldland now."


    ¡°But where in Ostwaldland? This doesn¡¯t look like a castle.¡±


    ¡°Sssstorage cccccellar, Sharpclaw thinkssss. Foundsss broken crate.¡±


    ¡°It''s a stupid question, but does anyone has a candle, torch, or lantern?" Prof asked, with not much hope in his voice.


    ¡°Actually, I do.¡± answered Mini, followed by some scraping and rustling ¡°You know, a certain someone wanted me to discard so-called unnecessary stuff to make more room for rocks. Luckily, I did not heed his request, and kept this nice memento from my time in a prison in Felseberg.¡±


    Unbelievable! Mini didn¡¯t just have skimpy clothes in her bags?


    ¡°Miss Mini, you were in prison? What for? Public nudity, unrequired harassment?¡±


    ¡°No one would jail my beautiful self for that! Actually, they had a prisoner in need of interrogation, and the Watch Captain asked me nicely to help him out. Such a stallion! After we were done, I interrogated the prisoner and as payment, I kept the lantern. Good times!"


    With the lit lantern, Prof was finally able to survey the room. It was indeed a storage room for discarded junk, just like one would find in any castle. Or home. Junk tended to accumulate, no matter where one lived or the social status of the homeowner. Richer people just had more junk to accumulate. Or had they less, because they could afford the costs to get rid of it?


    ¡°Do you hear music?¡± Was Bianca so embarrassed to imagine music? No, actually, Prof heard it too. When Mini lit the lantern and he could see again, he could pinpoint the music coming from behind a closed door.


    ¡°That¡¯s new. Clay, if I¡¯m not mistaken?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Clay. Military musics-player, from hearing. Playing very bad. Probably third grade.¡±


    Prof refrained to comment on the possible military abbreviation.


    Just as Wolfgang finished his critique of the musician''s Skill, the song changed to what Prof would have called a "suspension-full track" and the door flew open. An Orc, three Goblins, and someone, who was most likely a Hobgoblin stormed the room. A fourth Goblin stayed behind, still playing on a kid-sized guitar. Room clearing with a soundtrack, the Greenskins knew how to do things!


    ¡°Freeze! For infiltrating a secure military installation, I place you under arrest! Resistance is futile!¡±

 Chapter 13: Getting Excellent, Part 1

    Prof froze. Freezing in front of armed security personnel when you are found trespassing in said force¡¯s storage closet without having a really good excuse for being there was most likely a good idea. On the other hand, if you were some highly trained black ops guy, freezing would be the last thing, you should do. But again, getting caught while sneaking around was not high on the list, of what a black ops guy ¨C or anyone, who was somewhere he shouldn¡¯t be ¨C should do.


    As it were, neither Prof nor the others in the party were highly trained infiltrators. Maybe Mini was one back in the day when she was still breathing. Sharpclaw could be trained into one, given time. Binky¡­ Well, he was like a heavy breakthrough tank ¨C break any resistance and chew up the remains. At least Bianca was more or less military. Them freezing on command was actually understandable.


    Fighting their way out of a military facility hadn''t even crossed Prof''s mind. Not just because doing so on Earth would be a monumentally stupid idea for every random collection of civilians. More likely, because Arkadia worked on Levels and objective Skills, and the random collection of civilians that Prof was part of was seriously challenged in this field. The main reason was Prof finally found himself in civilization again and didn''t want the nice green folks to get angry with him. Having a bounty on his head would make pawning his loot off, getting new, fitting gear, and a nice feast immensely more difficult.


    ¡°Squad Leader, me Redcap Klavierspieler. Others with me, came back from Valley of Torment from important mission!¡± Oh, yeah, they had a valid excuse to infiltrate the cellar of a fortress! Wolfgang even said, their escape point would be a castle, they should have expected the military or nobles to be present, when they arrived. Did the Greenskins even have nobles? The issue was somewhat fuzzy for Prof.


    The Hobgoblin, who was obviously the Squad Leader, launched himself into a verbal exchange with Wolfgang. Of course, they spoke Greenskinian, which neither of them understood. The language was the exact opposite of Elven, hard and brisk, whereas the latter was soft and flowing, instead of melodious, it was full of sharp words, with an overabundance of crisp "r"s. Prof could only look at the body language and the tone of the speakers to try to figure out, what was happening.


    He had the impression, that the Squad Leader was respectful to Wolfgang, but still tried to assert a position. From his time on Earth and with the Elves, he was almost certain, the position referred to protocols, how to apply them to the current situation, and what to do with a bunch of non-Greenskin hobos in mismatched clothing. And with a bored-looking scorpionlizard.


    The solution most likely involved filling out forms, and reports and paying taxes. Some things never changed, all the multiverses probably needed a common base, after all. Why not bureaucracy and taxes?


    The discussion continued for a few minutes when one of the Goblins left. Prof assumed, it was to fetch someone with more authority, and indeed, five minutes later another Hobgoblin and two further Goblins arrived. All three wore better gear than the initial squad. Probably the castle''s captain and two advisors ¨C which the captain and who the advisors were, Prof had no idea. All three seemed to have near-equal standing. After another ten minutes of back-and-forth (all the while, the Goblin with the mini-guitar was playing a soothing tune), one of the Goblins turned to the assembled amateur infiltrators.


    ¡°Dear guests, it gladdens my heart that you selflessly and voluntarily rescued our species'' newest excellent expert from the clutches of the monsters in the Valley of Torment. It is of utmost importance that in doing so, you helped to recover a prized artifact of our people! The implications of bringing a new, or in this case, the original music of all Greenskins are at this time immeasurable. We will extend our hands to our new friends in gratitude, however, we have to review your identities, goals, and dispositions before letting you enter Ostwaldland. There is also a need to review, identify and evaluate the recovered items."


    Was this guy a politician? "Thank you, and now please pay taxes" could have been said with fewer words! At least the Goblin spoke Bergian, albeit with an overly affecting, mannered, and bombastic matter.


    ¡°Please follow me.¡± the Squad Leader directed them out of the cellar ¡°Until the interviews are finished, you will be placed into holding. This is a castle, not a hotel, so excuse the common lodgings. We have only so many empty rooms, and I was directed not to put you into the dungeon. Please prepare every item you recovered from the Valley for examination.¡±


    Every item meant they were back to being barely armed barbarian cosplayers ¨C most of their clothes were loot from the Valley. They were led to a mid-sized communal room, probably a suite for visiting dignitaries, a few floors above the cellar. Everything was done in the already familiar Greenskin style for buildings; superfluous columns, tympanums and such smacked to unimaginative simple walls. At least, the castle wasn''t in ruins like the city they escaped from, and there was even paint on the walls. An ugly light green paint, that is.


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    The room had only one large bed, and since everyone immediately rejected Mini''s idea to have¡­ some team-building exercises, Prof magnanimously offered it to the girls. He slept on the ground for a couple of weeks already, another few nights wouldn''t kill him. Bianca elected to sleep on the floor too but snatched a sheet first ¨C since her clothes were going to a customs inspection, she had to cover herself with something. Obviously, she still wasn''t comfortable with wearing only a chain bikini in front of other people. Mini, on the other hand, decided to partake in the cosplay: knee-high boots, the skimpy chain bikini, and fur wrist guards. Fantastic, she found a whole new culture she could scandalize. The joke started to get old.


    Wolfgang was escorted to a room for himself.


    The room came with a small window ¨C to judge by the ruins, Greenskins weren''t overly keen on large windows, to begin with, and they were currently in a castle, the embodiment of small windows. The window was at least large enough to take a look outside. The view was actually quite nice, the living quarters were directly overlooking a lake, and the mountains on the other shore were visible despite the haze he connected with the Valley, mirroring themselves in the lake''s calm water. The landscape just cried to be painted or a photo to be taken and sold as a jigsaw puzzle or a postcard.


    With the rock the castle was standing on, Prof was at least five stories above the lake''s surface, and combined with the narrow window and the metal grate on the outside, escape in that direction was impossible. Not that he planned to flee without his rightful salvage, clothes, or weapons.


    Not long after they made themselves comfortable, the Squad Leader came back with food (porridge with cooked fish) and drink (light beer), but collected the items they prepared for inspection. Prof played with the idea to beg Mini to let him deposit a few things into her bags, but after realizing, how the Vampire could "misunderstand" the petition, he dropped the idea. There was a chance, the Greenskins would search Mini''s bags too, so hiding stuff there wasn''t worth the hassle. And the potential backlash.


    He had more important things to do anyway ¨C spending Skill Points.


    The issue was, that albeit Mini gave him a few pointers on where to invest the points ¨C namely [Parry] and [Block], but also other weapon Skills, and quite a few utilities ¨C and himself having a few dreams ¨C finally learning to draw and paint ¨C the sudden arrival in Greenskinland pointed a very serious problem out. He didn''t understand the language, the culture, the laws, and the etiquette. In the Domain, he got a teacher for free and an interpreter, who always followed him around. Foxy being his minder solved a few misunderstandings Prof was aware of, and most likely protected him from angry Elves, who felt offended by his lack of etiquette and wanted to kick his teeth out.


    With the Greenskins, he couldn¡¯t count on either.


    Even if Wolfgang hung out with them, and obviously not a few Greenskins spoke Bergian for some reason, the whole party would be lost if Wolfgang wasn''t around. Getting another minder wasn''t something, Prof was ready to do. The situation with Foxy almost bit him in the butt. It would take time to learn the language and the rules, and even with having an Elf teacher, he was barely passable with Elven culture and etiquette. From Elven laws, he only knew that "let us fleece the monkey" was probably the main tenet.


    From his Skill Points, he invested fifty into [Speech: Greenskinian], twenty-five each into [Culture: Greenskinian], and [Etiquette: Greenskinian]. The last fifteen went into [Laws: Greenskinian]. Learning anything the Greenskins could provide was easier if he knew at least a rudimentary outline of the country he was visiting. He knew firsthand from Earth, that the locals were more friendly towards tourists, who at least tried to behave themselves in a local-friendly manner than folks who just came to get drunk cheaply.


    Knowledge flooded his mind as soon as he "confirmed" the distribution. This was the fifth time he experienced the flood, but previously he mostly concentrated on martial Skills, where muscle memory was in play. This was the first time ¨C not counting the arrival on Arkadia ¨C where he invested a sizeable amount into knowledge-based Skills. It was¡­ not disorienting, not weird, maybe disturbing.


    The difference between martial Skills was stark.


    One second he couldn''t even say a single word in Greenskinian, the next he commanded the language like an average local. Suddenly he knew the alphabet ¨C yes, the Greenskins used a third one ¨C knew, how to transcribe words into the Human alphabet (the two writings more-or-less coexisted, except for traditionalist, thank you, [Culture]). Knew, how to greet someone at different times of the day, how to point out superiors and greet them, how to behave in the presence of said superiors, how to behave with a Redcap, and under no circumstance wear anything considered red.


    Interestingly, certain shades of burgundy, orange, and brown were not considered red, thank you, new Skills. He realized, he did not exactly know, what shade of the three colors were forbidden or free, so he settled on not wearing any of those as long as he was near Greenskins. Or take lessons in traditional colors and their uses.


    The few points he put into [Laws] weren''t really enough to make a difference, the basic idea seemed to be excellent in whatever you do, be excellent to each other, and kill everyone wearing red that is not a Redcap.

 Chapter 13: Getting Excellent, Part 2

    As Prof found out, he did something right the first time since coming to Arkadia. As he found out, the locals usually put half their Skill Point per level into the language of the foreign country they frequented or found themselves in. Taking language classes was mostly reserved for rich people, everyone else just threw Skill Points at the problem. That was cheating in Prof''s opinion. Back on Earth, he had to learn two foreign languages the hard way (without those languages, he would be hard-pressed to find a well-paying job, no foreigners cared to learn Central European), here, on Arkadia it took only a second to become proficient.


    Of course, he forgot, that he had to hike through the Valley of Torment, get captured by Hags, kill Hags, loot and plunder, free a guy, find a lost treasure, and return the guy and the treasure to their home country. It took time to get EXP and level up on Arkadia too.


    Yes, you are right. It took less time to level up even so than to learn a new language from scratch.


    It took another half an hour for the Squad Leader to return. It was time for their interviews. First was Prof ¨C because he was the only male, was considered the party leader, or for any other reason, he did not know. He was led to another building, probably the keep ¨C the Greenskin architecture was still new to him, and every building seemed the same. Blocky, with useless columns and ugly decorations. The building was probably the keep, but could also be an apartment high-rise.


    ¡°Welcome, welcome. Please take a seat." the President greeted him. Prof realized he knew enough of the culture, to point the Goblin''s position out. That was convenient. The other Goblin was the General and the Hobgoblin the Chief. Or at least those would be the titles in a civilian settlement. In a military installation, like a castle on the border? Prof wasn''t sure.


    ¡°My name is Klaus-J¨¹rgen Apfelbauer, the mayor of the surroundings, with me are Dietrich Schafhirt, the colonel, and Harald Schiffszeichner, the chief. Let us begin!"


    Prof tried to flaunt his newly acquired language Skills, but the three leaders reassured him, that they could continue in Bergian, they were all more proficient with it than Prof Greenskinian. First, Prof had to identify himself ¨C he still had all the papers from the Elves, so this part wasn''t hard. The leaders were surprised, he had identification papers at all, only the Elves were hung up on those, and most other species had only a "passport" at best. Although Greenskins and Elves hated each other, the former trusted the latter to be proper bureaucrats and only hand out papers, where the contents were correct. Especially concerning non-Elves.


    If the papers said, Prof was Santa Claus (or the Heavenly Game Master), everyone, everywhere on Arkadia would assume, it was correct and true. Bow to the power of bureaucracy!


    The only issue with his identity arose when it came out, he was technically the Leader of a Red Elf Clan. It caused amusement, when Prof recounted, how exactly he became the Deputy Leader (all three probably thought, he was a moron for saving a Red), and all-out laughter at the end.


    Prof recounted their journey from Willowflower to castle Seeblickstein as truthfully, as he could. He was aware, there was mind magic on Arkadia and was almost certain, there were overt or covert lie detectors too. Even Mini warned him not to lie in the interview! It was not a lie, that he "forgot" to mention, he was a Traveller, and no one asked explicitly. After the truth came out about Foxy, he was wary of anyone knowing, he wasn''t even from Arkadia. He was accustomed to being alive, thank you very much. The only question that came near the truth (and probable execution) was regarding his strange spread of Skills. He answered truthfully, he put all available Points into Skills he felt were the most important at the time, without much diversification.


    Since he was in the Domain and the Valley for a good time, the three Greenskins came to assumptions.


    When Prof told the investigators about the treasure in Dunkelwald, the interest was intense. Prof was asked a few very pointed questions about certain pieces and was able to either confirm or deny their presence in the hoard. Those were obviously lost legendary national treasures, or at least important items. Prof also confirmed the watercourses weren''t impacted by the wonky nature of space in the Valley. What the Greenskins would do with the information, was of no interest to Prof. He was definitely not going back there, not even for his lost bags full of gems. He hoped the looted jewelry was enough for the short term.


    Loot was just laying all around, after all, if and when he ran out of money.


    At the end of the interview, he was escorted to another room and told to wait for the others.


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    First to arrive was Bianca, next Sharpclaw, and finally Mini. They were all asked the same questions, no surprise there. The whole thing had the feel of a few officials going through the motions without real interest in the outcome. Prof hoped, the fact, that they brought back a Redcap and long lost national treasures (or the information about those), and they weren''t sitting in very small private rooms with a deficit of windows (but in a medium room with small windows) meant, they were in the clear.


    If they were in the Domain, he was sure, he would never see the rescued items again. Either the original owners would come forward (with how long Elves lived, there was a chance, he was still alive), someone would be proclaimed the rightful owner or the artifacts would be just placed into a museum, where they belonged. With the Greenskins, though¡­ Prof didn''t have enough experience with them yet. Being excellent to each other hopefully also meant "don''t steal legitimate salvage from the Barbarian Cosplay Brigade."


    After they were escorted back to their living room, they were given the chance for a bath ¨C to be fair, Prof also needed a haircut and a shave. Finding a hairdresser and a barber in a country, where everyone was bald and didn''t have facial hair proved impossible, however. The best he could do was to borrow a pair of shears from the stables and a very sharp knife from the kitchen. Soap he could pilfer from the bath, even if it wasn''t foaming, it was better than nothing. Shaving himself with makeshift equipment costs him fifteen HP in total¡­


    Letting Mini give him a haircut cost him more. In patience and brain cells. Who would have thought, [Hairdressing] was a Skill and Mini was bad at it? You may answer the question.


    Prof a least was surprised.


    He shouldn¡¯t have been surprised by the result of giving a funny but completely crazy Vampire shears and free reign of his head. She tried to give him three different hairstyles. All of them traditional somewhere, and allegedly looked good on him, but judging by the barely contained laughter from everyone (that somehow included Binky too) it was on the funny side of "looking good." When his hair was an unsalvageable mess, he had finally enough and just shaved the rest.


    That cost him another fifteen HP.


    The Greenskins were nice enough to bring The Chopper and a strange-looking chicken back in the evening, so Prof could "donate" the daily amount of blood to it, but they were left alone otherwise. To spend their free time, they started to discuss what to do with their share of the loot. In the planning it was assumed, they would get only half of the stuff back. The problem was, Prof didn''t exactly remember, how many and what kind of gems he put into the largest bag (it should have been around one kilo, mostly larger stones), and had only a passing idea about the value of the non-magical jewelry. No idea at all, how much the magical thingies cost.


    They went with an extremely conservative assumption and halved that amount. Assuming just an average of one thousand coppers per carat and five thousand carats, that would be around five hundred gold total or one hundred per head. An insane amount, truly!


    As for the jewelry, his own Traveller''s Headband was valued at 125 silver, with all the thirty looted pieces looking much more expensive. Without knowing, what the effects were, there was no way to put an exact value to them, but Prof was certain, not one was worth less than two to three gold, and probably no less than five. They went with two and a half gold per piece for a total of seventy-five. "Only" fifteen gold per person. Assuming taxes, previous owners showing up and small finder''s fees for national treasures, each of them had fifty-seven gold and some change to plan around. That was not counting selling the liberated clothing and armor, which would most likely net them some income too.


    The most important thing was to ditch their mismatched and ridiculous clothing and armor. That would amount to around five gold or so for a non-magical but good set, clothing included. Planning with mundane gear was because even low-level magical stuff would cost around ten times as much, and Bianca was actually right: parading in expensive magical gear while low-Level would point every low-life in their direction. Food and lodgings for a year were next, they reserved a full two gold for that, so had something like fifty gold left to play around. Everyday equipment wasn''t expensive, the leftover change was more than enough for it.


    They (mostly Prof, but the others didn''t say no to the idea) needed personal trainers to shore up their weaknesses and gaps in their knowledge. For example, something easily overlooked like [Cooking]. Walking around the Domain and the Valley for two months or so, without the possibility of just visiting a roadside family restaurant and eating the same barely edible dry food hammered the need for a dedicated cook forthwith. Prof was already told to bring his weapon Skill up to at least 100% and had a very long list for other needed Skills.


    Let''s see¡­ With around a silver an hour for a good trainer and six training hours a day for half a year (that allocation included holidays and other activities too), that came out to¡­ eleven gold. Manageable. Prof was baffled, about how "cheap" it was, and that he indeed could afford such intense training.


    The only question was, how much they would be able to get good teachers ¨C Mini and Bianca agreed, one silver per hour was probably on the low end, and neither had much experience with paying for lessons. One was a trusted vassal and a low-Level Vampire noble, the other a mercenary. Both were provided with training for free by their organizations. Even if the real cost was double the one silver, they still were safe and still had enough money to upgrade their wardrobe and gear.


    It was good to be rich!


    Now, they only had their loot returned and themselves let free. What could possibly go wrong?

 Chapter 13: Getting Excellent, Part 3

    Against all expectations, nothing went wrong. It took the Greenskins three days (each evening, The Chopper was brought back with a strange chicken to chop up) to come to a decision, but when they were escorted to the three bosses, all of their gear and loot were present. At least Prof couldn''t point out anything missing ¨C it was a bit problematic with the gems, with him not remembering, what he had put into the bag, but the heap looked right.


    A few minutes later, even Wolfgang joined them, sporting the exact same clothes he arrived in, with his axe in one hand and the book in the other. The only difference was a red skull cap, that looked like it was meant for someone with a smaller head. The officers in charge seemingly only waited for him to arrive, and pointed to some chairs with a welcoming smile.


    ¡°Good day to our heroes, who brought back national treasures, lost knowledge, and a soon-to-be-famous new Redcap of our species, while pointing out the whereabouts of other lost items." national treasures, plural, sent shivers down Prof''s back. That was a good introduction to handing out pocket change in exchange for priceless items. He wasn''t stupid and learned from the Elves.


    ¡°Redcap Klavierspieler was already been given official ownership of his family heirloom, and we hope, he will bring MYTHRILL to the whole of our species. We had already the pleasure to hear a few samples of this magnificent new kind of music, and indeed, we are certain, it will lead a multitude to excellence all around Greenskin lands. We thank you again for this service.¡±


    ¡°As for you, brave adventurers, we will return the majority of your gains, as it is fair as an expression of our gratitude." Aha, majority, here comes the fleecing, Prof thought. "The few pieces that we can not return, are two pieces of historical or cultural value." The mayor pointed at an ornate heavy necklace with peanut-sized gems on every link and a gem-encrusted circlet "Rest assured, Ostwaldland will compensate you fairly for said items."


    Fairly, sure. Here, have a few copper coins. Did they think, Prof was a moron, born yesterday? However, there was not much they could do. Stealing the items, starting running, and trying to sell them to the highest bidder on the outside? They didn''t even know, where the outside of Greenskin lands was! The mayor saw his painful smirk and immediately went to reassure him.


    ¡°We are not red-wearing Elves, rest assured, when we promise a fair compensation, we intend to hold ourselves to that promise. Anything less wouldn''t be excellent! To be clear, the fair compensation will be three-quarters of the evaluated market price."


    Prof could live with three-quarters. It was much better than the less-than-ten-percent the Elves were willing to pay for liberated goods, and here only two items were discussed, not all of them.


    ¡°There is a third piece, we can not allow you to keep. This." This time it was the colonel who pointed at Prof''s Brigand''s Brigandine. That was actually to be expected, even if it wasn''t impounded, Prof was planning to sell it in very short order. The effects were good for criminals, but for a law-abiding civilian, it was dangerous to own such an item, not to mention wearing it in public.


    ¡°It is a highly illegal item, just for owning it, we would have to fine or imprison you. We understand it is part of your spoils and you had no choice but to equip it. We know, the Valley is a dangerous place, after all. As it is, we can not offer you compensation for it."


    That was less than ideal. Prof counted on it fetching a few gold, but at this time, they were still ahead of their worst-case scenario of losing half their loot.


    ¡°This brings us to our last point. Taxes and duties. Ostwaldland, as a civilized country, can offer favorable rates, only one part of six. After evaluating and counting everything, the sum total is two marks, sixty-six schillings, five groschen, and two hellers. If I remember the exchange rates correctly, in Eastern Bergian currency it would be around ten percent more."


    What?!?! If the one-sixth part of the whole loot was only less than three gold, the retail value would be what, sixteen gold?!?! For all the effort they ended up with pocket change?!? That could not be true!


    ¡°Less than three gold? How can it be possible?¡± Prof blurted out.


    ¡°Yes, we double and triple-checked the list, and this is the final amount, indeed."


    ¡°But, but, but¡­ The whole pile was just valued at sixteen gold?!¡±


    ¡°Of course not. It was valued at one thousand and six hundred eighty-eight marks, forty-eight schillings, twenty-two groschen, and six hellers. The stated amount is what the taxes minus the compensation for our two items come too. Is it all right, if we issue a letter of debt for your payment? We don''t have enough money at hand to pay you in coins."


    Prof fainted.


    When he came to himself, he was lying on the floor ¨C right next to Bianca, who had obviously also fainted ¨C ringed by concerned Greenskins and a paler-than-usual Vampire wiping his face with a damp cloth. He tried to collect himself, but when remembering to amount they scored, fainted again. That much money translated to about seventeen million in Earth currency (USD, EUR, or CHF, take your pick)! Three-point four million per person. That was just for the leftovers in the last bag, Sharpclaw hadn''t managed to toss aside!


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    Prof fainted for a third time.


    When he regained consciousness this time, the onlookers were starting to look really concerned.


    ¡°Prof, are you all right? Should we send for a doctor?¡± Mini asked


    ¡°No, I¡¯m fine. Please give me a drink, though.¡±


    ¡°Here¡¯s some water.¡±


    ¡°No, not water. Booze. The hardest there is. I just need to wrap my head around those numbers. Thank you!¡± the chief handed him a tumbler with some clear liquid. Without thinking, he threw it back in one gulp. He almost choked, it was hard and hot at the same time.


    ¡°Whatz ziss made off?¡± He managed to whisper a minute later.


    ¡°Hot paprika, a staple drink for Greenskins. Most other species have trouble drinking it. How was it?¡± was the chief trying to pull one on Prof?


    ¡°Acchually not zat bad. Wow¡­¡± With that, Prof managed to stand up. ¡°So, we are rich now?¡±


    ¡°No, Prof, we are filthy rich now. Not as filthy rich as other, filthier rich folks, or the perversely filthiest rich people, not the mention the truly rich, but yeah, we are good now. No simple rich bitch can compare to us."


    ¡°Dear adventurers, I was just trying to say, we will send the recovered items to the capital under heavy escort. It would be advisable to join. Not that Ostwaldland isn''t safe, but with such a rich bounty, it would be safer with a military escort. In the capital, you would be able to sell the bounty for a better price, too. Or at all."


    ¡°Thank you, dear mayor, I think, it would be indeed best to join. When do you plan on sending the escort?¡± Prof agreed. They were too low Level to just walk around with seventeen million bucks in their pockets. No need to give a farmer new career choices in the shadier part of society.


    ¡°First thing in the morning.¡±


    That was good. The sooner they left, the sooner they will be able to invest in proper clothing that was not some carnival leftovers, and the sooner they could start their training montage!


    As soon as they were back in their room ¨C Wolfgang went to train the local musicians in MYTHRILL ¨C Mini turned to Prof.


    ¡°So, Prof, how does it feel?¡±


    ¡°How does what feel?¡±


    ¡°Bringing new, better music to the sworn enemies of the Elves and on-and-off adversaries of every other species? That, and being a low-Level guy with more money than he could carry?¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ Well, I didn''t exactly bring MYTHRILL to the Greenskins. I was just there when Wolfgang did it. All of you were there. Do you think, there will be problems with the music and the money?"


    ¡°Naw¡­ Why would there be any problem? Nothing could possibly go wrong! It will be fun!¡±


    That was less reassuring than Prof was comfortable with. "Fun" for Mini usually meant an orgy, bloodshed, or a combination of the two. If worse came to worst, Prof could simply relocate ¨C there were at least two other continents, probably with possibilities for easy money and sights to see. It was not his problem if speciesist Elves got their teeth kicked in by a band of metalheads.


    The money, though¡­ If "fun" like Mini was after, happened to them because of their wealth, that wouldn''t be excellent. It should be important to lay low for a time ¨C there were enough cautionary tales about lottery winners on Earth who blew their winnings in short order and publicly. No way, Prof was going down the same road! They should exchange only a part of the loot ¨C sixty gold (or marks, as the Greenskins called it) per person sounded good, they planned with that amount previously. Pay for food, lodgings, and gear, that was good, but not too flashy or conspicuous, and get as many private lessons as possible. Getting good was imperative.


    Unfortunately, grinding wasn''t a thing on Arkadia. Exterminating low-Level critters for easy EXP? No way. If it was possible, the ecosystem would be in ruins, most probably. However, it was possible to Level fairly fast ¨C both Mini and Foxy were in their mid-twenties Level-wise before they lost most of the progress if Prof remembered correctly and it took them only a few decades to reach such lofty heights! Fortunately, there was someone, he could ask.


    ¡°Say, Mini, how did you and Foxy manage to reach Level 25 or so in such a short time?¡±


    ¡°Two decades aren''t a short time. At least for short-lived mortals like you. I don''t really know, what Foxy did, probably disposing of Travellers, but I was almost constantly on some task for the Estate, or if not, was training or running dungeons. There was an entrance to the Grand Dungeon of So''ee not far from home, for example."


    ¡°I did all that, and gained only four Levels!¡±


    ¡°You gained four Levels in what, four months? That is actually impressive and incredibly fast! Don''t forget, I was with you for most of the time, and you didn''t do much in the way of tasks and running dungeons! You were just jerking off most of the time! When you started to do things not just small things around Willowflower, you actually sped up with Leveling. Do you want more Levels? Find a damsel in distress, save her, enjoy her rewards, repeat. Or unearth long-lost treasures of cultural significance. Bring MYTHRILL to the people! Hahaha!"


    ¡°So, I would need to hard work and put myself into mortal danger time and again?¡±


    ¡°Pretty much, yes. It will be fun!¡±

 Chapter 13: Getting Excellent, Part 4

    Greenskins knew how to march. Four hours in lockstep, with a marching band playing all the way. The three leaders obviously pulled every stop and mobilized every last Goblin, Hobgoblin, and Orc who could play some instrument (and an Ogre drummer) to learn the new music and escort the couriers. It was quite overboard: three couriers, four adventurers, a scorpionlizard, and fifteen musicians, Wolfgang not included.


    The band wasn''t exactly good, but Prof realized, with the accompanying music it was easier to march, and they were faster too. It was like listening to the radio while driving, even the songs were partly the same. Prof was shocked to hear Thunderstruck in Greenskinnian. During their short break at noon, he asked Wolfgang, how the whole walking faster was possible while listening to music ¨C while driving it was understandable, you just flowed with the rhythm until you got a speeding ticket. But walking?


    ¡°It''s magic. More precisely, [Magic: Music]. This is why we do everything with music accompanying ¨C it makes everything faster, easier, and better. MYTHRILL is important because of this, it has more power than Granite and Clay." That was understandable, for once. Wolfgang obviously put a few Skill Points into [Speech: Bergian] and was now able to say a whole sentence without glaring grammatical mistakes. Speaking of which¡­


    ¡°Say, Wolfgang, why does everyone I''ve met here speak Bergian? I would assume, the Bergian Kingdoms are too far away, behind the Valley and the Elves to warrant learning the language."


    ¡°Ah, you probably don¡¯t know. The Eastern Bergians, the kingdoms, that is, we have almost no contact with. However, there are two Bergian Duchies just North of Ostwaldland. Zwergeberg and Waldeberg. Sometimes, we fight together, sometimes we fight each other, contact is thick to learn each other¡¯s tongue.¡±


    ¡°Bergians in the West? Never heard about it. What are they doing here?¡±


    ¡°The usual things. Tilling lands, raising cattle, brewing beer, multiplying.¡±


    ¡°Funny. I meant, why are they here in the West?¡±


    ¡°I don''t really know, never saw a point in raising [History: West Bergian]. Probably colonizing empty lands. Or political refugees. I think they were already here when the Valley was formed."


    At night, they made a stop not far from a village at a lonely farm. Albeit Greenskins knew how to march, they were utterly incapable of making pleasing architecture. Every last building Prof saw on the way, was a masterful piece of typical pillbox-with-columns. The owners even tended to paint the ugly buildings in eye-searing colors ¨C mostly different shades of green. Some wore camouflage patterns, others had whole landscapes and work scenes painted on them. Allegedly, one could have an idea about the owner''s business by just looking at the decorations.


    That night, they were lodged in the bunker-patterned barn. When they entered the yard, a couple of hogs were angrily¡­ growling at them. It couldn''t have been squeaking, that sound is just too cute to convey the menacing sound, the hogs produced. As for the size, tusks, and basic attitude, even the most vicious boar, high on steroids, speed and savagery back on Earth would just look like a squeaker compared to them, and would just shut up and piss off.


    ¡°What¡¯s with all those pigs? I remember seeing them in every village so far. Where are the dogs?¡±


    ¡°DOGS?!?! Why would anyone keep a degenerated wolf at home? They are good for nothing. A well-trained hog on the other hand? The very best home defense you could imagine! We aren''t even talking about famous warhog-breeds! Half a ton of concentrated muscle, tusks, and savagery, and that is even without armor or a Goblin raider on the back! All those Human knights? Bah! They are just food in a shell for our Hograiders!"


    Well, someone was extremely proud of their hogs! Prof was interested, in how a village fete would look like in Greenskin lands. Of course, they wouldn''t just tie up their village bard, but what would they eat instead of roasted boar? Roasted dogs?


    It took them three days to reach the capital. Prof noticed, that each day there was a fluctuation among the musicians, some came, some left, and from the original bunch, only the Ogre drummer was still with them, when they reached their destination. Probably spreading MYTHRILL and training on the go.


    The capital itself was a huge surprise to Prof. He got used to unpaved roads ¨C even the Elves, with all their superior attitude, did not pave the roads, even in "large" cities like Deadbranch ¨C and spread-out cities. Not that he visited many cities, towns, and villages since coming to Arkadia. Smallgrovewell was a tiny village in the ass-end of nowhere, Willowflower was much more like a trading post for outlying farms, and he was forbidden to enter any other Elven settlement. Deadbranch was the closest he got to a proper city, but with how Elves did things, that city was closer to any suburbia on good old Earth, than a real medieval city.


    If he expected a proper, real medieval city from Saugarten, Ostwaldland¡¯s capital, he got sorely disappointed.


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    The city consisted, of course, of traditional Greenskin buildings, built four to six stories high, with wide main boulevards and just slightly less wide side streets. Every last road and street was paved with the same cast material, the houses were made out of. Prof suspected, it being some kind of concrete, sufficiently different from the concrete he knew very well to not exactly warrant the name concrete.


    The whole city gave the vibe of a mix between a modern Earth city and a fortress museum.


    He noticed two very strange things almost immediately: first, literally everything was accompanied by music. Shopping, working, and even normal walking. There was a musician on every other corner, playing walking music.


    Secondly, how spotlessly clean everything was. Not only there was no strategically placed piles of rubble, or rebar sticking out, but there was no dirt or garbage around at all! That kind of cleanliness wasn¡¯t even expected from a hospital, not to speak of a modern city, and here was a whole medieval city without overflowing garbage bins (there was one fairly close together) or randomly thrown away junk. They haven''t spent much time in the villages and towns on the way to the capital, but Prof was fairly certain, he hadn''t seen much garbage there either.


    Saugarten was on a whole different level ¨C he could have eaten from the sidewalk!


    Actually, you could eat from the sidewalk everywhere, but you would consume other, completely free and unhealthy stuff too. Don¡¯t eat from the sidewalk or the floor, even if it looks clean.


    It was like a whole species was suffering from obsessive-compulsive disorder, pointed exclusively at cleaning. Other details, like wares in stores, stalls, and the outsides of houses weren''t affected, only the roads.


    ¡°How do you like Saugarten?" Wolfgang asked, seeing Prof''s confusion "Nice and clean! It is all thanks to our resident Redcap, master Strassenfeger. He is the best and most effective street sweeper in all the Greenskin lands! Every year, the other capitals try to poach him, but every time he refuses. He says he became a Redcap in Saugarten, he will not betray the city by cleaning another. True dedication!"


    ¡°Wait, are you saying, he became a Redcap because he is good at sweeping streets?"


    ¡°Not just good, he is the best. It is rumored, his [Cleaning] and [Sweeping] Skills are way above 500%! Unprecedented! There is a very long waiting list to be his apprentice. It is said, he tolerates only one mistake. The second time you overlook a pile of hog manure or dust in a corner, you are out. It is understandable. If you don''t have dedication, you are wasted in learning from a Redcap."


    ¡°There is a Skill [Sweeping]? That¡¯s news to me.¡±


    ¡°Ehmmm¡­ I think it is some high-Level specialization of [Cleaning]."


    Prof was starting to think, Arkadia was indeed strange. He knew well enough from reading that accursed Rulebook, that there was a Skill for literally everything, but still thought, the System had its limits. He realized (again), that limits the System did not have. There was no trying, either you did, or you didn''t. If you didn''t have a Skill, you failed even in the most mundane things. Or, more precisely, if you had the need for a skill to accomplish something, it was guaranteed, there was a Skill to help you fail legitimately. If there was a Skill to find loot more efficiently, party harder, play sports better, or recognize stuff, who said there couldn''t be a Skill to be good at sweeping streets? No one should be surprised to see such a Skill!


    Prof was.


    They were deposited in an inn not far from the city center, allegedly the best one in the city. Wolfgang had an apartment on his own, but that was too small for the whole party, and the inn was the best alternative he could think of. It even had a separate room for Prof and another for Mini, Bianca, and Sharpclaw had to share a third. Wolfgang promised them to meet up in the morning and help them to sell their loot. He warned them, there would be most likely a large official reception soon, and they would need to meet with the country''s three leaders before that. It wasn''t every day, a new Redcap emerged, bringing back long-lost secrets of the whole species. Plus two pieces of jewelry of significant cultural significance. Or prominent prominence.


    The very first thing the party did after cleaning up ¨C the inn even had indoor plumbing! Not even the Elves had such! ¨C was to finally have a meal that was not porridge or dried goods. Not surprisingly, there was no pork on the menu. Actually, there wasn¡¯t even a real menu, only two kinds of soup, cooked beef with vegetables and some kind of fried fish with fried tubers. It still was actual food! Actual, and good food. The cook even used spices!


    The only slightly problematic thing was, that the waiter only marginally knew Bergian, and Prof''s proficiency with Greenskinnian didn''t yet include detailed knowledge of food-related vocabulary. He was more or less certain, the beef actually came from cows and not from other four-legged creatures, and for the fish, he just drew a blank. He wasn''t proficient in fish-related things back on Earth, on Arkadia he would need [Zoology] just to notice the difference between pilchard and catfish.


    He didn¡¯t care that much. He wanted to finally eat real food, and he did just that. He even tolerated Mini feeding him fish-and-tubers, and even reciprocated by feeding her a few bits of bloody raw beef she ordered.


    Mostly, because he finally got drunk after having to ration his limited amount of booze for a long time. The Greenskins at castle Seeblickstein only gave him one beer a day ¨C he found out, that was the amount every soldier got for free. The inn had beer, a nice selection of wines, and hard booze. He elected to sample the wine ¨C that he had no experience with that on Arkadia yet. A wine that was made of grapes, the Blood Wine they found back in Willowflower probably never saw grapes. Forestdeep sounded like a country that was too cold to raise them.

 Chapter 13: Getting Excellent, Part 5

    There are some, who would bet, Prof woke up the next morning with a naked Mini sprawled across his (also naked) body, and him having vague recollections of the night, and how they ended up in the same bed unclothed. Waking up to the shrill scream of a certain Prude mercenary, just to add to the comedic effect.


    Those folks would lose the bet.


    Prof wasn''t drunk enough to forget, what happened (nothing), how he got into bed (tired), and with whom (nobody), and he did not forget to lock his door to prevent evil-doers or a horny Vampire to enter. There wasn''t even a shrill scream. What he woke up to was the Granite version of a wake-up song, playing down in the restaurant part of the inn. It was much better to wake up to Granite than to a kick in the ribs, as Shinead used to do or a scorpionlizard licking your face. Or a cat sitting on it (the face, not the scorpionlizard, if you wonder) and demanding breakfast.


    For a second, horrifying images raced through Prof¡¯s mind. A scorpionlizard sitting on his face, demanding breakfast, a cat sitting on a scorpionlizard, both demanding breakfast, Mini sitting on a scorpionlizard, demanding breakfast¡­ Waking up to Granite after a long night drinking, and maybe still being a bit tipsy, wasn¡¯t all good, probably. He had a headache, Greenskinian wines were too sweet for his taste, even the driest the inn could provide.


    The first thing they needed, was spare money, to spend on clothes, armor, and gear.


    No, actually the first thing they needed was a normal breakfast, that was not porridge or dried goods. In this regard, they were partially successful, they got oatmeal with fruit tea. Maybe Prof should introduce Continental, English, and American hotel breakfasts to Arkadia? Oatmeal was better than leftover, a few days old venison, but a good croissant? Toast? Sausages and eggs?


    Well, as soon as they got some more local spending money, Prof swore to taste everything that was real food. He saw a few food stalls on the way to the city center, so he had his goals firmly set. There was no food safety agency on Arkadia (the Elves probably had one, though), but what was the worst that could happen when eating unregulated food brought from an unknown source? His Health was 14, and he had an Anti-Poison gadget, that most likely worked against food poisoning! Every tourist¡¯s wet dream!


    Wolfgang obviously made some inquiries, since he led them directly to a Redcap jeweler a few streets over. Prof was conflicted in this regard ¨C on one hand, a well-known, high-Level jeweler probably had enough money to buy the high-class stuff they had, on the other hand, a big, well-known jeweler would probably have a high [Commerce] and would bargain harder and more successfully. And pay less.


    Very surprisingly, even a well-known jeweler did not have thousand-seven hundred marks sitting around in a safe. He did not even have a hundred-seventy. He did have ten, plus could scrape together another five within three days. He was willing, however, to take on the jewelry in commission, for only a five percent fee. From the gems, he was interested only in an emerald, valued at exactly fifteen marks. How strange.


    Prof shook with him on the emerald and left the jewelry there. It was harder to pawn off seventeen million (in Earth currency) worth of high-value things than he thought. He had the impression, he just needed to walk into a convenience store and the clerk would happily take over every piece at market price. Or, there would be an auction in only a few days, where to super-rich would pay through their noses to get their grubby hands on his family jewels. But no, the next auction he could sell the gems was scheduled for the end of December (Freezy in Elven, Tenth in Bergian, and Siegfried''s in Greenskinnian), to the twenty-fourth, to be precise.


    Until then, they had to survive on only fifteen marks from the jeweler, around three from the Ostwaldland government, and the amount they had on their persons. The paltry two hundred marks or so for the jewelry had an unknown estimated time of arrival. How could four (or five, if Wolfgang was included) people survive on only eighteen gold for four months? That was only one hundred eighty thousand in Earth currency! Prof''s happy giggling was interrupted by Wolfgang, who didn''t understand the profound hardship of having a such low level of monetary assets to blow on food, booze, and chicks! Yes, you read right, chicks! Prof still needed chicken for the daily donation for The Chopper. The scars he suffered from the bonding and a few days of donations were wickedly ugly.


    ¡°We should move on to the armorer I told you about. You can finally get rid of those idiotic pieces you have."


    Oh yeah, they still had their costumes to sell! Would that money help feed and train them? They were sooooo unbelievably poor!


    ¡°Stop giggling, my friend. You look like a little girl. No, even those would be ashamed!¡±


    Looking like a girl? That was just because of his Girly Backpack of Holding, not because of some alleged giggling! The giggling would make him sound like a little girl.


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    Prof thought, the armorer would be located in a smoky forge, but found out, the actual work was done in the back, and business was made in the front of the shop. Also, it was not a blacksmith they visited, but a leatherworker ¨C logical, since everyone was using leather armor. The shopkeeper was only willing (or able) to buy the Champion''s Shinguards, but was willing to take the other pieces in commission ¨C this time for 10%. After a long and boring session of haggling, Prof declined to leave the other four pieces there. He hoped he would be able to sell them somewhere else for more.


    Since they were already there, they placed an order for two matching sets of mundane armor for Bianca and Prof: brigandine, vambraces, and greaves. In total, it cost them five whole marks, but everything was of high quality and had a higher armor rating than his old set. That was a fourth of their total wealth, after receiving payment for the Shinguards.


    At least, the most expensive part was taken care of, and they still had clothes to sell.


    Prof was more or less content with his eclectic attire ¨C meaning, while he wasn''t exactly willing to wear them, selling them wasn''t a priority either. The shoes he actually liked. Bianca, on the other hand, wanted to forget hers as fast as possible. The tailor-shoemaker, Wolfgang brought them to, was actually willing to buy Bianca''s three pieces, for a comparatively good price of five marks. They left almost fifty schillings for their wardrobe, boots, pants, shirts, socks, underwear, and capes. Not to forget some cheap stuff for working and running dungeons. Prof stayed with his previous style, black and dark green pants, and shirts, Bianca settling on blue and white.


    The new clothes looked indeed different from what Prof previously had, or saw on Elves. The latter were addicted to form-fitting attires to the extreme ¨C when they care to wear anything at all ¨C while Prof''s system-bought pants were what one would see anywhere in Western Europe. The Greenskin-styled ones were sturdy, practical, and a bit baggier than he liked. However, it was still better, than the mismatched set he acquired in the Valley.


    With around twenty marks to their name, it was time to look for training opportunities.


    With how dedicated Greenskins were to getting excellent, there were actually quite a few schools, courses, training rooms, and private teachers around. After asking around, they learned that lessons could be had for anywhere between half and five schillings ¨C the more expensive teachers being better. As Prof found out, it was not enough to have a high Level in the Skill one wanted to teach, good teachers also had a high Level in [Teaching]. Someone with below 100% in [Teaching] would be able to raise the pupil''s Skill by less, than 1% per day, that is eight hours of "teaching". A real teacher with above 200% could do more, than double that. Of course, the exact amount depended on the Skill Level they had and wanted to teach.


    The trick wasn¡¯t just to find a willing person with a high Level in a Skill, but a teacher, who had a high Level in a Skill they wanted to teach, and a High Level in [Teaching] at the same time. That combination was expensive!


    Luckily, each teacher advertised himself with the exact Skill-Level they wanted to teach and the exact Skill in [Teaching]. Another mathematical problem to solve. What was the most cost-efficient way to raise a Skill? Were the best teachers with the highest Level of Skill really worth the additional cost? Was it worth hiring a private teacher or just joining a class?


    Everything calculated against their ready-use money.


    Prof¡¯s share was theoretically five marks, but because he kept most of his pilfered gear, technically he would have to pay others for them, and that meant, he was not just broke but was deeply in debt. At least until they received the money from selling the jewelry and the auction for the gems started. Luckily, Wolfgang was hesitant to claim anything from the loot, Mini did not care that much, and Bianca was content to wait. Sharpclaw¡­ Prof wasn''t exactly sure, the Kobold understood, she was entitled to an even share.


    First, they put three gold marks aside for three months'' food and lodging and another for unexpected expenses. If they took lessons from a two-silver-schillings-teacher, they were good for eight hundred and fifty lessons ¨C Prof rounded that down to two hundred lessons per person. All their current wealth came down to a month of training and just fifty Skill Points for every party member. Prof was hoping for a bigger return, but realized, the going rates for learning and training on Arkadia were actually much better than on Earth. He doubted, getting semi-professional in any field in just one month was possible back on the blue jewel.


    The System and the Rules basically guaranteed he got what he paid for. All those scams back home were just empty promises with fine print, on Arkadia he could be sure, a teacher with high [Teaching] and Skill in their chosen field would deliver a guaranteed amount of Skill Points every day. No need to guess the teacher''s Skill ¨C you just took a look at their Character Parchment and did the math. Or looked the rates up on a chart. Every school and training room they checked, had a regulated chart displayed openly.


    It probably had legal reasons. Or was it because doing otherwise wouldn¡¯t be excellent?


    Prof tried to remember, how the Elves did things but came up blank. In Willowflower, he didn''t mingle with the locals or explored the town much ¨C if what Mini told him about Foxy was true, he was quarantined from the general population. Thinking back, Foxy was always hanging around when he contacted a local, and she more or less steered the conversation ¨C especially at the time when Prof didn''t speak the language yet.


    What an asshole move.


    Hopefully, the Greenskins were more excellent to a poor displaced Human. Or didn''t learn, he was a literal Alien¡­

 Chapter 13: Getting Excellent, Part 6

    Taking a look at his Character Parchment, Prof started to take notes in his newly acquired notebook. With literally thousands of Skills, and only a month''s worth of training available for now, it was obvious, he would have to set priorities. Not, that he was keen on learning how to make pottery, rugs, baskets, barrels, wagons, or saddles.


    Or learn any other profession, including digging dirt, no matter if it was for making plants grow or finding ores.


    Mini and Bianca shortly joined him and started to give him advice.


    ¡°[Acrobatics], [Parry], [Block], [Shields], and the rest of the fighting Skills are a priority for you." Bianca told him in no uncertain terms "The two Skills you have are good, but you have obvious and glaring gaps in your knowledge."


    ¡°Yes! Don''t forget [Intimidation], [Convincing], [Party], and [Sex]! One leads to another!" Mini added "You are lucky, I could help with the last one, and won''t even ask for payment! The offer is good for you too, Bianca, honey."


    ¡°No, thank you, Miss Minerva. I¡¯m good.¡±


    ¡°You are good in [Sex]? Maybe you could teach me some things?¡±


    Prof ignored the girls goofing around again. Even Bianca got used to Mini¡¯s antics by now, and knew, the Vampire was mostly harmless. Outside of battle at least. Harmless and just a little bit annoying, but fun, if you didn¡¯t take her seriously.


    ¡°[Sssstealsss], [Climbing], [Trapssss]" a sharp claw poked him in the side. It was nice to know, all his friends were concerned and were willing to help. Unfortunately, their help did not make Prof''s life easier. Or rather, help him decide, which Skills to train. Fifty points ¨C actually, fifty-five, because he had Point Harvester ¨C weren¡¯t that much, he needed to settle on three or four Skills at most.


    Prof made a nice-looking chart, with needed, wanted, and would-be-nice-to-have Skills, procrastinated for a time, delayed for a bit more, drew out the decision by rewriting the chart, and finally settled on the three Skills, most of his friends identified as the most pressing from the beginning: [Acrobatics], [Parry] and [Block]. Those three were the three sides of the same coin, the fourth being [Evade], most likely a single trainer would be able to teach him all three. Prof mulled over the issue of how a coin could have four sides a bit but shrugged in the end. There was no sense in questioning the sense behind old sayings.


    It was finally time to get excellent! Or at least less bad in those three Skills!


    With how dedicated the Greenskins were to constantly better themselves, it wasn¡¯t hard to find a gym ¨C every few blocks had one, mostly built into the same house as the local ¡°school¡± or ¡°academy¡±. Prof had some difficulty understanding the words and concepts for the combined gym-academy. The word used for those ¡°schools¡± or ¡°academies¡± weren¡¯t the same as used for an elementary or secondary school ¨C education was compulsory up until the child got his Character Parchment ¨C the closest Prof could put the meaning was ¡°betterment center¡±. These were reserved for adults, providing teachers and trainers for a small fee.


    Not every betterment center offered the same courses, some specialized in natural sciences, others in social fields, arts, utility, or professions. The attached gyms were diverse as well ¨C some providing training in small unit tactics, others for a select few weapon Skills. There were even a few, that concentrated on [Swimming], [Climbing] or [Riding], or just strength or endurance training.


    Prof found out, that Stats were semi-permanent, and not quasi-fixed, as he assumed previously. With enough torture¡­ ehmmm¡­ training, it was possible to squeeze out a point or two. Prof wasn''t dissatisfied with his Stats and body ¨C he gave enough attention to "re-creating" himself back in the afterlife ¨C but it was good to know. Maybe later, when he was finished with his Skills, and still had enough money and time, he would give a chance for such training. For now, Skills were a priority.


    It only took the rest of the day to find a trainer, who had a high enough Skill in the three, Prof wanted to train, and high [Teaching] at the same time. ¡°Her¡± betterment center was on the other side of the city, but since it was a medieval city, the distance wasn¡¯t that large ¨C less, than an hour of easy walk. While Prof couldn¡¯t understand Greenskin architecture to begin with, the betterment centers confused him even more. The main training room on the ground floor was a mix of a smaller school-gym, lecture room, and concert hall. It was flanked by smaller training- or classrooms, while the first floor was occupied by a few medium-sized halls and a lot of small rooms.


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    All with superfluous columns and tympanums, but without any clear function.


    The trainer Prof paid, a female Hobgoblin named Sieglinde, was a dedicated defense trainer, focused on [Parry], [Blocking], [Evade], and [Shields], while [Acrobatics], [Athletics], and [Dancing] being just secondary subjects. She also held torture sessions for Agility, Dexterity, and Endurance. Luckily, Prof had high numbers in those Stats, so didn''t need to work on them. Sieglinde even congratulated him on his Agility and Dexterity ¨C although she probably found them strangely high.


    Prof and his party already agreed on a story that would obfuscate the true reason for his strange spread of Skills. According to the story, he grew up in a small settlement for soldiers (the concept of a ¡°sect¡± was known on Arkadia, and it was implied, the settlement was one), where the training focused on Critical Hits and running away. The strange Skill spread was due to the expedition to the Valley.


    Since [Magic: Mental] and truth detection were things on Arkadia, they had to be cautious about what and how to say. Telling outright lies wasn''t recommended, but they settled on a phrasing, that was technically true: Prof never even left his small village for all his life, except for training in an undead dungeon, that took advantage of his skillset. The others could be more creative, they just had to say, Prof, them told the facts like that. Just to be sure, Prof told them, he grew up in a sect village and was trained this way.


    After all, it was better to be thought of as a cave dweller than as a Traveller. The former had a longer life expectancy.


    Sieglinde either didn''t care about the origin of a Pinkskin (as Humans were called by the Greenskins), or Prof''s story worked with her. Either way, no hunters of Extra-Arkadians intercepted Prof to ask pointed questions or to kill him off. It was a win in Prof''s book.


    The training consisted of three parts. For [Acrobatics], Prof had to practice on dedicated torture equipment: uneven, parallel, and horizontal bars, balance beams, rings, pommel horses, trapeze, aerial hoop, and a few others. All the while Sieglinde was throwing balls or Gremlins at him. From what he was told, a high Level of Skill would enable him to perform incredible feats on any surface, jump around on a thin rope and confuse the enemies with his untraceable movements.


    For Prof, it sounded as if he would be a star of any circus, though.


    Learning how to parry and block was actually harder.


    All of Prof¡¯s reflexes told him to attack or most likely simply evade, not divert his opponent¡¯s weapon away or meet an attack head-on. The problem was the unusually large gap between [Evade] and the other two Skills ¨C it was simply easier to teach a dog a new trick than to modify a known one into another. Sieglinde flat-out told him, he would need to rise [Parry] and [Block] not just to 100%, but most likely up to 150% and he would need to keep the gap as small as possible in the future. Otherwise, his reflexes for evasion would take over and all the training would be for naught.


    Prof was also told to get a shield and get that Skill to over 100% too.


    From the other party members, Bianca took lessons in [Blunt Weapons], [Axes], and [Cooking]. The first two were to round her weapon Skills, the third to finally have someone, who could actually cook. Obviously, not just Prof got fed up with their inability to make edible food. Even so, they were a long way from having a chef.


    Mini actually joined Prof in his training, taking [Block], [Parry], and [Acrobatics] too. Her reasoning was that she wasn''t able to find a trainer for the much more important Skills of [Convincing] and [Party] and did not like the way Greenskins danced. According to her, [Acrobatics] would synergize well with her highest Skill, and would enable her to perform even more incredible feats. Her highest Skill was [Sex]¡­ Prof wasn''t exactly sure, it was a good idea to give a crazy nymphomaniac Vampire even more abilities in her chosen field, but who was he to berate folks who already forgot more about Skills than he learned in the last months?


    The last of the party, Sharpclaw, was quite in a bind, what to learn. For some reason, [Lockpicking], [Stealing], [Con] and a few others were considered "criminal Skills", and there were no classes on offer. She wasn''t built to handle heavier weapons than her trusty dagger, so those Skills were more or less out of question too. Being in a city, there wasn''t wilderness survival training to have either. She ended up splitting her time between only two classes: [Climbing] and [Valuation].


    They settled into a routine fast. Getting up early in the morning, training until four in the evening with only a few short breaks, having dinner together in a different tavern every day and studying in the late evening. Everyone agreed, they had enough of porridge and tried to find sources of real food with fervent dedication. As it transpired, even the street vendors had good food ¨C being excellent and selling subpar fare were mutually exclusive. Greenskins loved spicy and hot food, that reminded Prof of home ¨C taste buds were there to be burned out, after all.


    As for studying, they managed to get a few dozen books for cheap, most being scientific textbooks, but also some literature. Mini swore, the romantic fiction, she bought was actually for study, as they gave some percentages to [Romance], [Convincing], and [Literature: Greenskinian].


    All went well for exactly one week.

 Chapter 14: Mythrill For The Masses, Part 1

    ¡°MYTHRILL isn''t excellent, he said!" Wolfgang was frothing "MYTHRILL is too aggressive, he said. MYTHRILL is bad for Greenskins, he said! MYTHRILL is vulgar, he said! No one should play or listen to MYTHRILL, he said! He won''t allow anyone to play MYTHRILL, he said!"


    ¡°I take, your presentation didn¡¯t go well? What happened?¡±


    ¡°Oh, we did the hour-long presentation, as you suggested, and everything went just fine, a few of the masters obviously liked it. That was until the not-Guild Leader started shouting, how vulgar, aggressive, bad, and so forth MYTHRILL is. He declared, playing MYTRHILL was forbidden, and we were thrown out of the not-Guild House.¡±


    ¡°That''s just an ass move! I happen to like MYTHRILL! We should feed that old geezer to Binky! The poor boy hasn''t had good food for a long time!" Mini immediately started planning. "We will assault the headquarters through the servant entrance, Bianca will block the corridor at the stairs, while Sharpclaw assassinates that shitstain. Binky will eat the corpse, and no one will know, what happened. Just like magic! Guild Leader''s gone!"


    ¡°Wait, wait, wait!" Prof wasn''t prepared to kill a high-level official because of music "If they don''t want to make Mythrill public, just bring it out forcibly. If everyone knows the new music, there won''t be any possibility to suppress it anymore. Wait, we were playing it all the way from the castle. Won''t there too many witnesses already?"


    ¡°There weren¡¯t that many witnesses, even the musicians participating were just a small minority of all musicians in Greenskin lands. If the not-Guild forbids playing MYTHRILL, they won¡¯t be able to play it. But what do you mean, bring the music out forcibly?¡±


    ¡°Just make a concert somewhere. A big one. The best, grandest, and most mythrill one, we can think of. You will need effects, a whole band that is playing well. You may even sell shirts and paintings and music sheets. Oh, do you have a name for your band and a mascot? A symbol?"


    ¡°With the not-Guild forbidding to play MYTHRILL, no one would rent out a concert hall to me¡­¡±


    ¡°Take an empty plot of land somewhere. That would be even better, more people would fit. You just need a stage at one end to play on. Wait, do you have any means to play loud enough to be heard at the other end? The Elves could make these visual effects at a concert I saw. You will need someone with light magic, or illusions, or whatever. Maybe a fire mage."


    ¡°Wait! Too much information! Do you have a notebook? I have to take notes!¡±


    Prof handed his notebook over and started listing, what Wolfgang needed to make an epic open-air concert and bring Mythrill to the masses. It was actually an interesting situation: Arkadia was obviously more-or-less infested with Travellers, they have even brought rock and metal to the world, but no one had told the Locals, how to make an Earth-style concert, although, the one in Willowflower came close. How was it possible, when every last Earth Human knew how an epic concert looked and sounded? Not necessarily by first-hand experience, but who hasn''t heard of Woodstock, or one of the big stadiums, full of music and masses?


    Oh yeah, they needed someone to sell booze, too.


    ¡°All right, let¡¯s see¡± Wolfgang looked through the list ¡°The band. Now I only have myself and a drummer, I probably could find another guitarist and maybe a singer.¡±


    ¡°All right, you would still need a third guitarist and a few chicks for the background.¡±


    ¡°Me, me, me! Pick me!¡± of course, Mini could be ideal as a barely-clothed female squirming in the back. She probably also already had clothing fitting for the role.


    ¡°As for the name, I pick Mythrillhead!¡± Wolfgang declared ¡°But what about this symbol and mascot you talked about?¡±


    ¡°Your family crest works just fine. Wear it on the back of your jackets, make some shirts with it too, with the band name above it, and you can sell it to fans. Is it possible to print a picture on a shirt, or do you need to embroider everything by hand?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I think, printing pictures on shirts is possible. They do it for books, after all. But why sell shirts with my family crest? Who would buy it, to begin with?"


    ¡°It''s not your family crest anymore, it''s the mascot of your band. Do you want to bring Mythrill to the masses? You need everybody talking about Mythrill then. What better way to do that but with the symbol of the very first mythrill band on the whole of Arkadia?"


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    ¡°It¡¯s the same with paintings and music sheets?¡±


    ¡°Absolutely. The fans could hang the paintings on their walls and worship the band. I think it would be possible to print them too. Make a few different ones, for example about the band, the mascot, or some epic scene. Multiply it. Music sheets are self-evident. You want to propagate the style. You can also make mugs. The cheapest ones you can get, sell the beer in them. Everyone has to make a small deposit, and either get the money back or keep the mug. Make better ones to sell outright."


    ¡°I get it. However, I don¡¯t think, that scheme would be excellent. That¡¯s just fleecing the people! Handing the stuff out on self-cost would be better, no?¡±


    ¡°If you don¡¯t want to make money, sure. After the first concert, I would even charge an entry fee. Selling the overpriced merchandise would actually net you more money than the entry fee.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not doing this for money, but because MYTHRILL is an excellent new kind of music and every Greenskin would be better with such!¡±


    ¡°Besides, he¡¯s also due a part of the loot from the Valley!¡± Mini added. She was correct in it ¨C Wolfgang was actually already rich, why shovel even more money out of the fan¡¯s pocket into his own?


    Because more money was better than a lot of money, obviously.


    ¡°Yeah, I''m an entitled, rich Orc already! Being rich means, I have more rights, so I have the right not to be a money-hungry entitled twat!"


    Circular logic at its best.


    ¡°What kind of effects do you mean, and what kind of magic user should I look out for?¡±


    ¡°Let''s see¡­ Pillars of fire are always a good idea. Maybe you could spew fire from your guitar or axe too. Or make lightning or fireballs fly at opportune moments. Since the concert should be at night, the stage has to be lit up, with as many colors, as possible. A beam of light scanning the crowd. Some illusions illustrating the lyrics. Such things. I don''t exactly know, what is possible, only what should be there. The most important thing is to make sure, even those in the back hear the music clearly."


    ¡°No problem with that. I can do the magic for the sounds carry. I can make a battlefield hear me clearly, a simple field is no problem. As for the other effects, you will need to come with me to the Mage¡¯s not-Guild and explain what I need there.¡±


    ¡°All right, can we do it tomorrow? What about a brewery selling booze?¡±


    ¡°That''s not a problem, my cousin actually runs a brewery in the next town, I think, she will be able to provide the beer."


    ¡°Ah, that reminds me. You will need a lot of cute bartenders, preferably wearing band shirts! Short skirts and high heels! Fishnets!"


    ¡°I never understood, why females would wear high heels.¡± Bianca looked confused


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°High heels are worn by males¡­¡±


    ¡°No, they are not!¡± Mini rejected the idea immediately.


    ¡°Reptilesss not wearing sssshoessss.¡±


    ¡°Prof, I don¡¯t understand. Greenskins, neither males nor females, won¡¯t wear high heels, they are impractical. What would wearing a fishing net accomplish? That would be even more impractical! And wouldn¡¯t cover anything!¡±


    ¡°All right, forget the high heels and fishnets. Can you do boots? Knee-high boots?"


    ¡°Yes, I think, we can do high boots to make our females look funny. I don¡¯t know, where to find girls who would agree to wear so few clothes. We aren''t Elves!¡±


    ¡°Good, good, see, what you can do. The getup would help, but isn¡¯t obligatory¡­¡±


    ¡°Yes, it is about music, not scantly clad females!¡±


    ¡°Actually, you can sell everything better with scantly clad females. It is a proven fact!¡±


    ¡°Prof is right! People like to look at naked girls and boys! Isn¡¯t that right, Bia?¡±


    ¡°No, Miss Minerva. I could do without it.¡±


    ¡°All right, we only need an empty field and some carpenters to make a stage. Any ideas, Wolfgang?¡±


    ¡°There is a hog-racing track outside the city, I don¡¯t think, there are other fields empty anywhere near. We usually plant things on fields, not just leave them empty.¡±


    ¡°Do you use the three-field system?"


    ¡°Of course, we do, we aren¡¯t barbarians! The fallows aren¡¯t large, however.¡±


    ¡°Good, let¡¯s try that. Carpenters?¡±


    ¡°My other cousin¡¯s husband is one, I will contact him.¡±


    Prof congratulated himself for a job well done. In less than an hour he managed to sell the idea of an Earth-style big concert to the foremost (and only) mythrill band of a new world. If, no, when the new music caught the masses, he planned to expand the whole venue into a week-long festival. Of course, with himself as the CEO and owner. He was lucky to have come to Greenskin lands. In every other country and with every other species, he wouldn''t be able to pull off something like this, but Greenskins were addicted to music and already knew music, that was practically made to be played at festivals.


    All that was needed was someone with an idea. Hopefully, no one started asking unpleasant questions.


    ¡°Say, Prof, how do you know so much about MYTHRILL and concerts?¡±


    Yeah, questions like that¡­

 Chapter 14: Mythrill For The Masses, Part 2

    ¡°Ehmmm¡­Well, I grew up with that kind of music¡­¡±


    ¡°But how?!? We just found the book, and I haven¡¯t heard of any species playing Greenskin music!¡±


    ¡°Actually, the guy who wrote that book, and invented Granite and I come from the same place.¡±


    ¡°Impossible! My ancestor was a born Greenskin and he lived millennia ago!¡±


    ¡°You know, those songs are thirty, forty or I don''t know, sixty years old at most, where I come from, belonging to multiple artists, so either everyone in the last forty years was copying from your ancestor, or he managed to somehow get a compendium of the last forty years'' best songs and bring it back to a few millennia ago."


    ¡°Hah! Obviously, a not-Guild from your home was plagiarising my ancestor''s work for nefarious purposes for all those years!"


    Well, if the big record labels were present on more, than one world in all the multiverses, it actually would make sense. Maybe Earth was cut off from the other branches, and that was the reason, no good music came out for the last couple of decades.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so. I¡¯m not from here exactly.¡±


    ¡°I figured out that much already. You are not a Greenskin and know nothing about the Western Marches. Clearly, you are from some far-away place."


    ¡°You can say that. I¡¯m not from Arkadia.¡±


    ¡°WHAT?!?! You are a Traveller?!? Here to steal our women and fuck our gold? Destroy our way of life? Begin a war of conquest for your new Empire? Topple legitimate governments? Are you a HERO?!? Are these females your harem?"


    ¡°Yes to the first question, no to the other ones. I just want to¡­ Well, I don''t exactly know what I want to do. Seeing sights, touring the world, such. Conquering the world or doing the other stuff you said looks like too much work for too little gain."


    ¡°But what about all those ideas about how to play MYTHRILL? That would be influencing the local population to change their way of life!¡±


    ¡°Look, Wolfgang. Someone from Earth already gave you Granite, and I suspect, Clay originated from Earth too. You were listening to Earth music for how long, exactly? You could say, Granite and Clay are as much Greenskinian now as they were Earth Human. Besides, you found your ancestor¡¯s book about Mythrill, I just told you, how we did things back on Earth. What you do with the information, is up to you. If you folks don¡¯t like the way, make something new instead. I won¡¯t force you.¡±


    ¡°Yes, exactly! What could possibly go wrong?¡± Mini just had to raise a flag. Bringing a new way of life to other cultures went so well on Earth after all! But hey, the Greenskins already knew most of it, it will be just fine. Probably. Hopefully.


    ¡°Yes, you are right. It¡¯s all about progress, and we Greenskins are all about progress and getting more excellent! MYTHRILL is progress! Your Earth ways of making an excellent concert is progress! Let¡¯s do this!¡±


    That went better and faster than Prof hoped. There was still the chance, Wolfgang would run directly to the Greenskinian version of the Immigration Office and they, in turn, would kick his door in within minutes.


    ¡°What¡¯s this talk about heroes?¡± Prof asked the others after Wolfgang left ¡°It¡¯s almost like everyone is afraid of them. Back on Earth being a hero was considered a good thing.¡±


    ¡°Figures¡± Mini nodded wisely ¡°A hero is a revered person on Arkadia too, but we are talking here about Heroes, that is Travellers, who style themselves as heroes. The Elves have even two different words for them.¡±


    ¡°In Gerulian we have the distinction too. H?s?k are role models, while Cs¨¢v¨®k are considered a menace. When I was little, my mother always said, I should eat my porridge, or a Hero will come get me. Be a good girl, or the Hero''s Party will destroy the village."


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. The stories say, Travellers, or Traveller Heroes, think, they are chosen by the Heavenly Game Master to¡­ I dunno. Bring justice and peace and freedom and liberty and a lot of other things. Fight the oppressors, liberate the people, and kill the evil-doers. Transform Arkadia into something alien. The Hero''s Party is even worse ¨C it is formed by like-minded crazies ¨C and they set out to kill the Demon King, or start a crusade against someone or something."


    ¡°Arkadia has a Demon King?¡±


    ¡°Not that I know. Sometimes they think the Elven High King is it, or a ruler from Forestdeep, or the Halitchian Emperor, or all of them.¡±


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    ¡°I¡¯m not good at [History], but the stories all talk about carnage and huge wars following in their footsteps, while they plunder and kill their way through Arkadia. Plus the obligatory harems. I think, Heroes are killed on sight, and this is everyone is suspicious of Travellers. Mostly, it¡¯s warranted.¡±


    ¡°But you girls aren¡¯t suspicious of me!¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡±


    ¡°Exactly¡±


    ¡°Sssssure.¡±


    That wasn''t exactly reassuring. He hadn''t done anything wrong! He even saved them from evil slave merchants and even more evil Elves out for mass genocide! He saved Wolfgang from the evilest and vilest creatures out there, so he could bring back Heavy Metal to the Greenskins! There was no carnage and wars following him, and he only plundered some bywaymen and evil Brook Hags! Most importantly, he didn''t have a Harem, it was just a coincidence, that every last member of his party was female! Some of them even hated his guts, another was out to kill him, and one was a Prude ¨C how could that be a Harem?


    For some reason, Prof expected his new life to be an awesome collection of epic adventures, slaying monsters with ease, and finding untold treasures while everyone idolized him. Maybe a little bit of harem. Not much, just one or two gorgeous chicks, who were not braindead. And definitely weren''t gold-diggers.


    If the stories he knew were correct, he already would have won some important tournament.


    The next day, they were able to make an appointment with the Mage¡¯s not-Guild. Prof described, what they needed and what it should look like. The not-Guild''s representative then made some suggestions and rejected a few of Prof''s ideas immediately. Obviously, a few of the special effects were not possible, or the spells to make them were forbidden to be cast outside of large-scale battles. Despite what Prof feared, the not-Guild was actually quite helpful and even improved on some of his ideas. Learning, that the whole thing was concocted for a new kind of music and a new way to present it, their enthusiasm took over. Being excellent, helping others to get excellent, and making things excellent were too deeply ingrained into Greenskins not to give everything.


    They ended up hiring three mages: one for the illusions, one for lighting, and the last for fire and a bit of lightning. The last one wasn''t exactly good with [Magic: Lightning] ¨C only 123% - but it was considered enough for the few spells from that school. If they wanted to be on the safe side, they could have paid a dedicated lightning mage with a better repertoire of spells, but the only such on hand was a master and would have to be paid a much higher sum.


    Wolfgang and Prof decided it wasn''t worth it. They were assured, the lower-Skilled mage would be able to cast the few spells they needed, and Prof was more focused on fire and illusions as he was on lightning.


    The real question was payment. While the mages made an actually quite good offer, it was still higher than they had physical money on them combined. What they had were gems, which in turn were each more worth than the mages wanted to charge for their services. The not-Guild didn''t want to buy any of the sparkling stones so they could be paid for casting spells at a concert.


    Of course, if the mages were to provide another service, they were more than willing to take a gem or two as payment, as long as they wouldn¡¯t need to pay the party a larger sum. At first, Prof didn¡¯t have any idea, what other service the not-Guild could provide that they actually needed.


    ¡°What other service would you be willing to offer, sir?¡± the easiest way was to ask, after all.


    ¡°We could provide training in the most schools of magic, however, since you don¡¯t have the required Perks, you wouldn''t be able to actually cast Spells. We also have textbooks and Spells to sell, but the problem would be the same. We could identify magical items, but I don¡¯t think, you have unidentified items, with a person who can cast in your party. What you would be most likely interested in, is enchanting and modifying already enchanted items.¡±


    ¡°You can modify the properties of magical items? I didn¡¯t know that.¡±


    ¡°Not many know. After all, if you have enough means to order an item to your exact specifications, why would you need to modify one? Most people use heirlooms that are not a hundred percent perfect. But yes, there is the possibility to modify properties.¡±


    That gave Prof an idea. While The Chopper was more or less a good fit for him, providing the required daily blood donation was starting to become tedious. He was starting a genocide of chickens already. If the mages could remove the need for blood, the axe¡¯s value would rise immensely for Prof.


    On the other hand, no one was really comfortable with the idea to prance around in some kind of flashy magical gear, that was most likely a good way to an early grave. As was prancing around with a shitload of money. Even on Earth, a wealthy citizen would attract gold-diggers, criminals, distant relatives and old acquaintances like mayonnaise left out in the Sun would attract flies. On Arkadia¡­ well, in most places, CSI wasn''t invented yet and no one would miss an unknown foreigner to begin with.


    A basic durability enchantment wouldn¡¯t be all that obvious, however, and would cut down on repair costs.


    ¡°Interesting, interesting." the not-Guild representative said while investigating the enchantments of The Chopper "It looks like the need for daily blood donation is absolutely redundant. Why it was placed on the weapon, I am unable to understand. Maybe¡­ Hmmm¡­ Yes, that would make sense¡­ See, here." the representative pointed to a place on the blade. It was covered in nice swirling decorations "I wager, the donation was meant to power another enchantment, but that was never finished. Or the enchanter was incompetent. So yes, we could easily disable that feature."


    Prof decided to give Bianca''s and his armor the durability enchantment, while his own boots got the same, plus an enchantment that raised his speed a little bit. Sharpclaw''s dagger got durability and extra damage and Prof finally got around to ordering a lucky charm, made of a few pieces of loot he was lugging around for a long time. It actually didn''t give any Stats ¨C obviously, no one could do that ¨C but according to the mage, it slightly moved the strands of fate in his favor. Or some such mystical superstition. He was told, if he added other pieces with the help of an enchanter, the strength would be reinforced.


    The enchanting work and the services of the not-Guild came up to a bit less, than two gold marks ¨C about the same price as the value of a finely cut, twelve-carat Chrysoberyl he had.

 Chapter 14: Mythrill For The Masses, Part 3

    A few days later, Prof and Mini were walking back from their training, chatting away.


    ¡°Do you think, this whole concert thing would be a success?¡± Mini asked


    ¡°I hope so. The Greenskins already know music from back home, Mythrill shouldn¡¯t be much different. Back home, there were whole festivals, spanning many days, we liked music and the good bands that much. Greenskins love music even more, so I don¡¯t see much of a problem.¡±


    ¡°The idea looks like fun. Who knows, maybe you could bring it to other countries and species too! Imagine, everywhere I go, I would be able to party! Don¡¯t mess this up!¡±


    ¡°Sure, but you have fun everywhere you go. However, I¡¯m not exactly certain, other species would like hard and heavy Greenskin music.¡±


    ¡°Dragons and Dungeons!¡±


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t think, playing in a dungeon would make them like the music better. Aren¡¯t dragons extinct, anyways?¡±


    ¡°No, silly! I don¡¯t mean literal dungeons and dragons. Although a dungeon¡­¡±


    ¡°Focus, Mini!¡±


    ¡°Ah, yeah. I meant that store!¡± Mini pointed to a shop with a well-made wooden dragon above the entrance. From the angle they were looking at the shop, Prof wasn¡¯t able to read the shop¡¯s name, though.


    ¡°What about it?¡±


    ¡°It''s the most awesome shop in all of Arkadia! I visited one years ago in Kaa''Raa''Taak, but mostly we just order from a catalog."


    ¡°Wait, Kaa¡¯Raa¡¯Taak is somewhere in the North of Forestdeep, no? How could be a shop here in Ostwaldland too? What they are selling anyways? Weapons? Ingredients?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a magical shop, Prof! It is said, the Heavenly Game Master himself operates or owns it! It sells the most awesome game on the whole of Arkadia! Basically, everyone plays it!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m on Arkadia for a good time already, and I never heard about it.¡±


    ¡°Most of the time, you were stuck in the Domain, and Elves don¡¯t like the game. They think, it¡¯s childish and a waste of time. More likely, they don¡¯t see it as a game, played for fun, but as a means for training. Plus, I think they play by different rules.¡± While talking, Mini dragged him to the store. It was indeed named Dragons and Dungeons. The walls on both sides of the door were painted with what Prof called warriors, mages, musicians, and monsters. A strange design to find in a Greenskin settlement, where buildings were just painted in different shades of green, without any other decoration.


    ¡°It looks exactly the same as back home!¡± Mini exclaimed ¡°The only difference is, the store in Kaa¡¯Raa¡¯Taak was painted with various undead, not Greenskins. Come, let¡¯s take a look!¡±


    The shop was a mix of bookstore and game shop ¨C on one side there were shelves full of books, the other side held little figurines on smaller shelves and what looked like board games. Prof had a very bad feeling suddenly.


    ¡°Say, Mini, what exactly is this game?¡±


    ¡°It''s a simulation game. We all have Stats and Skills and Perks, and whoever wrote the game first probably thought, why not make it into a game? The rules are already there, why not imagine yourself as a high-Level adventurer or problem-solver? Go on adventures without leaving the house, simulate missions with your actual Skills, and so forth! Look, figurines!"


    Mini pointed to the smaller shelves. Prof took a closer look. Not only were there Goblins, Hobgoblins, and Orcs in different armor with different weapons, but a lot of monsters too.


    ¡°Hey, they put undead with animals and monsters! That''s offensive!"


    Most of the figurines were unpainted lead, but there were a few beautifully painted ones too.


    ¡°There should be a workshop in the back, for a small fee, they will paint the figurines as you like. They can even make new ones according to your specifications. It''s awesome! I have three custom-made ones, I will show them to you when we get back to the inn."


    ¡°Mini, about that game¡­ Am I correct in the assumption, that there is a Game Master, who tells the story, what he says is law, and the players have to play their characters as written down on a physical Character Parchment?¡± Surely, RPGs couldn¡¯t be the most played game on a world that ran on RPG rules! It was impossible!


    ¡°Exactly! You know the game after all!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, we had a similar game back home.¡±


    ¡°AWESOME! We should play sometimes! It¡¯s months since my last mission!¡±


    ¡°Mission?¡±


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    ¡°Oh, we call a game session a mission. You know, a mission you have to complete! Wait, do you have a set of dice? Everyone has one! I got my grandmother¡¯s. Hmmm¡­ I don¡¯t have my rulebook with me, but you certainly will need one. Obviously, you don¡¯t know even the rules of Arkadia, and while the game¡¯s rules are similar, they are different enough. Let¡¯s see¡­¡±


    Mini started to peruse the books on the other side of the store.


    ¡°Eh, they only have the Third Edition. It''s the worst. Imagine, they had to bring out a few Supplemental Rules volumes, that are together three times as long as the basic Rulebook! Our Duke had the complete collection, but said, they could have put everything in only one book, and it would have fewer contradictions and rules left out. Hmmm¡­ They don''t have most of the Supplemental Rules either. Crap, the most important one is about Skills, and they don''t have it. Anyways, I mostly played with the Fourth Edition, it''s actually the best one. The Fifth Edition is¡­ most likely written by a kid. No one plays with it. Here."


    Mini put a book in Prof¡¯s hand. It was titled ¡°Arkadia¡¯s Rules for the casual Gamer, Third Edition¡±. Prof started to skim through the book, and the more he saw, the deeper his heart sunk. He saw that book before! Not just saw it, he read it, and built his whole existence on the contents!


    ¡°Say, Mini. How accurate are the rules in the book? In regards to Arkadia, I mean.¡±


    ¡°The Third Edition? Not very much. It''s a rulebook for the Game, not for Arkadia. A lot of common knowledge is left out, because why would you put things, everyone knows, into a book? As I said, they had to bring out a lot of Supplemental Rules, because of the important things they left out. See, the Perks section is just this long, but look at the Supplemental Rules on Perks, here.¡±


    Mini showed another book to him. It was half as thick as the core rulebook, while the section about Perks in the latter had only twenty or so pages.


    ¡°The Skills books are even longer. Even so, the whole series, I mean the Third Edition, is still full of left-out information, contradictions, and completely false rules. We know, which points and rules to ignore and have knowledge about Arkadia''s rules, so it''s not actually that bad for a collection of game rules."


    ¡°But they are not Arkadia¡¯s rules.¡±


    ¡°No. Only a complete moron would mistake one for the other. If you are interested in Arkadia''s Rules, you should visit a larger library. Maybe they have a dissertation or two. Don''t expect much, though, the really good ones are under lock and key at different organizations and guilds."


    Prof already realized he should have asked more questions to that airheaded bimbo in the afterlife, but that he was handed a set of rules for a game felt like a full-blown scam to him. Truly, no one could be such an idiot to mix up a game with reality. It was like handing the rules for Monopoly to someone new to Earth!


    ¡°Let¡¯s see¡­¡± Mini was in high drive ¡°You will need the core book, the one about Perks, the one about species, the one about magic should be helpful too. Of course, they don¡¯t have Skills, Chi isn¡¯t here either¡­ Military Tactics I don¡¯t think you would need¡­ Health and Disease, they don¡¯t have it¡­ Miscellaneous Rules¡­ no, that one is crap¡­ Various Rules you should buy. Assorted Rules, they don¡¯t have it. Mixed Supplementary Rules they don''t have, but is crap, to begin with. Castles and Manors? No, you don¡¯t need that. Advanced Various Rules and Mixed Supplementary Assorted Rules would be nice, but not for that price. Auxiliary Supplementary Rules¡­? No. Dungeons and Monsters, yeah, definitely! Oh, it¡¯s for the Fifth Edition¡­ Hmmm¡­ We could work with it nevertheless. What else¡­? Oh yeah, the mission Return of the Living Dead. It has a nice set of extra rules and clarifications. Heh, my Duke wrote that mission!¡±


    Prof was just standing there, while Mini put book after book into his hands. He just wanted to cry. Cry and find Sandy and kick her ass into the next multiverse! Obviously, there were accurate rulebooks written by local Arkadians, but no, she had to choose a crappy rulebook for a game, and even that was not complete! If she was more or less working for the Heavenly Game Master, surely, she could have asked for a complete set of rules from the fucking highest authority in the world! But no, she had to play games with rewards for good questions, and not to forget. The. Rulebook. For. A. Fucking. RPG!!!!


    Mini started to prattle on figurines, but Prof was too shocked and depressed to pay attention. The Vampire ended up poking him multiple times.


    ¡°They only have a few Human figurines, none really fits. Do you want to make a custom order?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, sure, whatever¡­¡±


    ¡°Take this seriously! While we could play without the figurines, it makes things easier to describe. See, I even found a Kobold with a knife! I will take a few animals and monsters, but you should order a nice figurine for yourself. And for Bianca! She would be surely very thankful, wink-wink!¡± She even said wink-wink. Prof was quite sure a Prude Ice Queen wouldn¡¯t be very thankful in the ways Mini implied. However, he was busy wallowing in self-pity currently.


    ¡°Sure, whatever. Can you make the order? Let them make it to your specifications. You know better, what is possible.¡±


    ¡°Oooooh! Thank you! You won''t regret it!"


    For some strange reason, Prof felt like someone just walked over his grave, came back, and used it as a trampoline. What did he just do? Gave a crazy Vampire a free hand in designing his likelness? What could possibly go wrong?


    Most likely a lot of things. It was Mini, after all. Prof started to regret going into the shop already.


    He handed two silver schillings over to the clerk and went outside to cry silently.


    He needed a drink. Or multiple ones.

 Chapter 14: Mythrill For The Masses, Part 4

    As the weeks went by, the preparation for the big concert was taking shape. Wolfgang was actually able to find two good guitarists, Wilhelm and Theodor, and a passable singer, Sandra. Wilhelm was an Orc, Theodor a Goblin, and Sandra a Hobgoblin. The interesting thing with their new singer was, that her Perk Talent: Singing was not as good as Wolfgang¡¯s, but her Skill [Art: Singing] was actually higher. What that exactly meant, Prof didn¡¯t know, and Wolfgang¡¯s explanation wasn¡¯t exactly helpful either. Skill could obviously substitute Talent to a degree, but to be really good in a field, one needed both.


    As Wolfgang was all right with her performance, Prof was content with the choice. More so, after he learned, Sandra was considered a very cute Hobgoblin. After that, he only needed to convince her to wear clothes fitting for a heavy metal¡­ khmm... mythrill singer. Well, he tried, but 80% in [Convincing] was only enough for boots, knee-length linen pants, and a sleeveless shirt. Even that was considered borderline scandalous in Greenskin territory. They weren''t Elves to flash skin, after all.


    Prof also found out, that the drummer Wolfgang had was the same Ogre drummer who followed them from Castle Seeblickstein. And she was actually female, named Adeltraut. How one could determine if an Ogre was male or female, Prof did not know, and for some strange reason also didn¡¯t want to know.


    ¡°Do you have a playlist, Wolfgang?" Prof asked "What songs the book contains, to begin with? What Granite or Clay do you want to turn into Mythrill?"


    ¡°Turn Clay into Mythrill? I haven¡¯t thought about that!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, everything is better in Mythrill.¡±


    Wolfgang grinned like he had an idea already. Turning G-Pop into Mythrill should be possible, no? Surely, the outcome would be awesome! Hopefully. Maybe making Clay hard and heavy should be postponed until the masses were acquainted with the old classics ¨C or in case of Arkadia, the new classics.


    Wolfgang started to play the songs, he planned to perform on stage. Prof was right, he actually knew each and every last one from Earth. The only difference was the lyrics, which were naturally in Greenskinian. Prof wasn''t exactly sure if they were exact translations, or what was changed ¨C most songs on Earth were in English, and being from a not-English-speaking country, he was a bit hazy on the meaning, to begin with. Well, that, and most people remember only the chorus part. Be it as it may, hearing iconic songs in a different language was a strange experience. The Traveller, who translated the lyrics was quite good in Prof''s opinion, some of the songs had even a better flow than in English.


    After only a dozen songs, Wolfgang stopped and looked expectantly at Prof.


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°What do you think?¡±


    ¡°More or less good, but what about the rest?¡±


    ¡°What rest? This is what I want to present.¡±


    ¡°No, no, no. The concert would be too short with only a dozen songs. Could you do, say, thirty or so? You want to present Mythrill to the masses, not just give a short appetizer.¡±


    ¡°Yes, most likely we could do thirty. It would be hard but doable. Maybe with a break in the middle?¡±


    ¡°Good, good. What other songs do you have?"


    ¡°LET ME BRING YOU MYTHRILL!" With that shout, Wolfgang started to go through the book''s content.


    ¡°No. No. Maybe. That¡¯s crap. Yes. Maybe. Oh, yes! No. Maybe. Definitely! No. No. No. Maybe. Hmmm¡­ Maybe. Yes. No way. Maybe¡­¡± Prof was rating the songs after Wolfgang played maybe a minute from each. It was strange ¨C he couldn¡¯t articulate a lot of things, he knew back on Earth, but here he was, rating songs from Earth, remembering them clearly. However, he wasn¡¯t able to describe other songs or give the notes for them. Of course, he wasn¡¯t able to do that on Earth too¡­


    ¡°All right, that would be almost thirty. You will still need a few others, and you should prepare a couple in reserve if the audience demands an encore. Let''s see¡­ Are there famous Granite or Clay songs you could transform into Mythrill?"


    ¡°Sure! See, there is this ancient song for battle. It should be good for the opening. Do this: Clap, Clap, Stomp. Good. Again. Again.¡± Surely, it was not that song! It couldn¡¯t be!


    It was. If a metalhead brought songs from Earth, how could he forget that one?


    ¡°Wait, Wolfgang. What is this? Play it faster, harder, heavier!¡± The way the Greenskins played it, was actually slower and softer than what Prof remembered. ¡°Still no. Faster! Harder! Heavier! Louder! I wanna hear heavy riff with heavy bass! Let that axe whine! You already know, how to play Mythrill, play it!¡±


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    After a few tries, Wolfgang got what Prof was saying. The result was even better than the original if someone was to ask for Prof''s opinion. Of course, no one did, not knowing the original. Or that there was an original¡­


    The transformed songs Wolfgang offered were unknown to Prof. It wasn¡¯t all that surprising, Greenskins were making their own music for a long time, and developed the examples they were given into interesting directions. Not everything was about Earth.


    Some of the songs were actually good, some not so much. On the other hand, some transformations of good songs were bad, and mythrilled versions of not-so-good ones were actually perfect. Prof and Wolfgang were sitting together till well after midnight to select a few local songs and find a perfect sequence for the concert.


    ¡°I think, it will be good for now.¡± Prof finally said ¡°Bring your band tomorrow, and show it to the girls. Let¡¯s see what they all say. We can still fine-tune everything.¡±


    With the special effects, the band, and the playlist taken care of, some of the largest hurdles were taken care of. Wolfgang''s relatives were also willing to build the stage and provide beer. Bianca, who was tasked to order mugs, paintings, and shirts, was also able to complete the given task. The only problem was, the potters, printers, and tailors were demanding a high sum for that kind of large-scale rush order. Thankfully, the jeweler was able to sell one of the items just in time, since they already started to run out of cash.


    And just as they received the money from the jeweler, they immediately started to run out of cash again. They had to pay the potters, printers, the brewery, the carpenter, and the owner of the racetrack. Who would have thought, putting a concert together would cost so much?


    Since the whole thing was free, they were already operating at a loss. But hey, everything for culture, no?


    At least, the Greenskins were excellent to each other and weren''t overcharging their services. Back on Earth, the suppliers would just tuck another zero to the end of the bill. That, and one would have to pay for things, which were completely unknown in Medieval Wonderland!


    The only thing they were missing was a couple of background dancers, underdressed cute females. And underdressed cute females to work the bar. They had only one yet, and Mini couldn''t exactly be described as cute. Well, maybe from a distance. Bianca and Sharpclaw declined the honor, and Greenskin females weren''t exactly ready to present themselves in underwear. At last, it was agreed to put the background into skimpy, but not overly scandalous costumes ¨C to Mini''s chagrin, because she was fully prepared to perform in her chain bikini. The thong one. Even so, they weren''t able to find anyone.


    The situation was saved by Bianca, who one day was complaining about walking into a brothel, thinking it was a bar. According to her telling, the owner wasn''t sure at first if she was a customer or wanted to apply for a job. Bianca, on the other hand, did not understand, why the owner wanted her to "work at a bar", and kept asking, who she wanted. A language barrier can do that to everyone. The situation was cleared by one of the girls, who actually spoke Bergian.


    ¡°That¡¯s it!¡± exclaimed Mini ¡°We should hire prostitutes!¡±


    ¡°Ah, come on, Mini. I¡¯m sure, you could find company for yourself everywhere. Why pay for something you could get for free?¡±


    ¡°Because prostitutes have Skills and most likely Perks! But I''m not talking about having a good time. Maybe later. I meant, as girls for the bar and for the background! The boring costumes you came up with aren''t exactly scandalous, surely, a prostitute would be willing to wear them! Maybe we could make them even a bit or a lot shorter!"


    ¡°Actually, that isn¡¯t a bad idea. Not the shorter costumes.¡±


    ¡°You do know, I always have the best ideas! I will visit the brothel tomorrow! Do you want to come? We could have a good time, and you finally would be able to be laid!¡±


    ¡°This is business, Mini, not fun! I will come but just to keep you in check.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you could even bind me up, and have your perverted ways!¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s not do that.¡±


    Prof was expecting a modern, western brothel with females in sexy underwear, not that he had ever visited such, but what he found was rather a posh bar where females were showing ankles, or, in case of the more brave, even knees. The clothes worn would be considered normal everyday wear back on Earth, or pronouncedly conservative in the Domain. Well, Prof spent too much time with Elves, who considered clothing unnecessary. And were gorgeous. Suddenly finding himself in a culture, where people were able to wear normal clothes, was a shock, and Prof still wasn''t used to it.


    As they found out, Greenskin prostitutes, or rather pleasure providers, worked at brothels not because their only Skill was with¡­ No, actually, they worked at brothels exactly because their Skills and Perks lent themselves to that kind of work. Doing a job, one was not excellent in was considered very bad manners by the Greenskins, so every khmmm¡­ professional provider was indeed professional. Working a bar while not being excellent in the task wouldn¡¯t be done by any of the females, who worked the bar for a living. However, Prof was able to hire three girls, who were willing to dance in the background. While showing knees.


    Three, plus Mini should be enough.


    Prof also got a contact to the waitresses¡¯ not-Guild but was told, he should forget the planned costume uniform. He should be grateful if the waitresses would be willing to wear boots or show ankles. Prof thanked the owner and left to tick off the last point of the list.


    Mini stayed for¡­ whatever reason. Prof did not want to know. He started, however, to wonder, if the Vampire was in truth a Traveller in disguise.

 Chapter 14: Mythrill For The Masses, Part 5

    After a month of preparation, everything was finally ready. The party also finished with the training ¨C and weren''t able to pay for further ones. Strangely, selling highly valuable jewelry and gems wasn''t easy. There simply wasn''t much cash floating around in medieval times for someone just walking into a store to buy the newest Ferrari. Or a necklace that cost about the same.


    When checking his Character Parchment for the month¡¯s gains, Prof found something welcome, but strange nonetheless.


    ¡°Master Sieglinde, according to the chart at the entrance, I should have gained seventeen points in the Skills, but I have got six points more each."


    ¡°What¡¯s the problem with it? You got exactly as many points as you should.¡± the trainer looked uncomprehendingly at Prof


    ¡°But the chart clearly said, I would just get seventeen each! I¡¯m not complaining, I just don¡¯t understand it.¡±


    ¡°Oh. You do know, that the charts are valid for someone with an Intelligence of 10, no?¡±


    ¡°Really? But it was not stated, and what difference would an Intelligence of 10 make?¡±


    ¡°Why would we state for which Intelligence the chart is valid? Everyone knows it''s for 10. It''s the average! You do know, that teaching gets more efficient, the higher your Intelligence is, no?"


    ¡°Ehmmm¡­ No¡­ No one told me.¡±


    ¡°I would very much like to have a talk with your family and masters. This is a crime!¡±


    ¡°Not telling someone about such things is an oversight at worst.¡± Actually, handing a freshly transplanted guy a game rulebook while telling him those are the exact rules for his new home could be considered a crime. Not that Prof was willing to tell anyone, he learned Arkadia¡¯s rules from the Third Edition. Or could sue the afterlife office and Sandy in particular.


    ¡°No, it is a crime. In Greenskin lands, at least. We don¡¯t just try to get excellent and be excellent to each other, we need to help each other to become excellent. Preventing or hindering someone to become excellent is almost as serious as wearing red when you aren¡¯t a Redcap!¡±


    Prof was in Ostwaldland for a month but hadn''t realized this. He just assumed, everyone was helpful.


    ¡°Nice society you have built! Everyone working to better themselves and helping others to become excellent! With this kind of helpfulness, everyone should be excellent in no time¡±


    ¡°Not everyone and not necessarily. There are always people, who just don''t want to get excellent. We ship them to the Army or re-educate them in the mines. On the other hand, high-quality training isn''t free, as you know yourself. Although we have free schools for the little ones, the adults have to work hard to become excellent ¨C if it were easy, there would be no point in becoming excellent. Five thousand Points in a Skill? Just another number on your Character Parchment. It''s the way that counts, not the result."


    ¡°Heh, yeah. If I party very hard and long, and put everything into [Party], sooner or later I would become excellent at partying. I would be excellent!¡± Prof was just a little bit sarcastic.


    ¡°Exactly! As long as you make the effort, everyone would accept your way.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°No one said, you would need to become excellent in fighting or science or crafts. I think, you already met or hear about Master Strassenfeger. He dedicated himself to sweeping streets and thus became the only currently living Redcap street sweeper. I heard, there is a Radcap in Dunkelgr¨¹nen, who is the best beggar on all of Arkadia! He dedicated himself to [Begging]. Of course, those two are the most obvious examples of over-specialization, but you could be excellent in everything. As long as you strive to become excellent in something or everything, you are getting excellent, and are excellent.¡±


    ¡°Everything? One could get excellent in, say, [Stealing] or [Lockpicking], and no one would lock you up. I find it strange."


    ¡°Of course, you could become the best thief or burglar or whatever on Arkadia! Why would we hinder anyone to become excellent in their chosen field? That would be a crime!"


    ¡°So is stealing from other people!¡±


    ¡°Why¡­ Oh, right, you are a Pinkskin and are here for just a short time! I don¡¯t think, you have many Points in [Laws: Greenskinian] and [Culture: Greenskinian], no?¡±


    ¡°Not really.¡±


    ¡°As I told you, preventing or hindering someone in becoming excellent, is a serious crime. Stealing money, that was earmarked for training, is preventing or hindering, so if it came out, that a thief stole such money, the Thieves¡¯ not-Guild would be on the thief''s neck in no time. The same is true for stealing one''s tools of craft. Take you for example. You are something like an adventurer or mercenary, so your tools of craft would be your weapons and armor. No one would steal them, since that would be preventing or hindering you. On the other hand, your fancy dancing shoes aren''t your tools of craft, so those could be stolen.¡±


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    It was logical in some alien and strange way, but again, this was Arkadia, not Earth, and Prof was discussing laws and customs with a Greenskin. If you leave your home, don¡¯t question the logic of other people.


    ¡°The same is true for injuring someone." Sieglinde continued. She was a teacher, so teaching stuff was her job, after all. Prof only hoped she won''t ask for payment. "Injuring someone is preventing or hindering. Before you ask, you have the right to defend yourself and your property. You can injure a thief, robber, or burglar, but not kill them. The first is considered helping them to become excellent, pain is a very good teacher, but killing would be preventing and hindering. And, well, killing."


    ¡°The Thieves are known to pay a reward for every thief caught and returned to them. They consider it as training for the pupil. Oh, a lot of thieves just steal to prove, they can do it, and return the items later for a small fee. There was this gang, who kidnaped folks, just to prove they can, and released the captives after a time and billed them only for food and lodgings. My cousin was kidnaped too, and she told me, she had quite a good time. She was rescued after only a day or two, but still keeps in contact with some of the gang."


    ¡°All that doesn¡¯t sound like the thieves could make a living out of stealing¡­¡±


    ¡°Of course, they can''t! The Thieves'' not-Guild makes most of their income by collecting the taxes and tolls for the state, providing legal counsel, and smuggling! Well, trading. But, they invested a lot of time and money, so the state would make trading in certain items illegal, so the thieves could trade with the legally."


    ¡°Wait, wait, wait. They trade with illegal stuff legally? How is that possible?¡±


    ¡°By paying taxes. Look, if it is illegal to trade in stuff, only the criminals would be trading in them, but since there is a market for them, someone has to do it. Since you have an income from the transactions, you have to pay taxes. Anything else wouldn''t be excellent. I''m not very good in [Commerce], but I think the term for only one organization doing stuff because others can''t or won''t is a monopoly."


    Prof started to have the familiar headache, he got every time, someone used Arkadian non-Human logic on him. Sure, for Greenskins it looked like a valid logic and an excellent idea, but even without engaging his [Commerce] or [Law: Various] Skills, he could find a lot of loopholes, any criminal organization ¨C or basically everyone, who hated paying taxes, so about a hundred percent of the population ¨C would find within minutes.


    What would prevent a criminal organization from doing criminal stuff? Especially, when they were the ones collecting taxes? The vague idea of not being excellent? Being good at Tax Fraud could be considered being excellent in one''s chosen field, after all. Neither Saugarten in itself nor Ostwaldland looked like crime was running rampant, so most likely something was preventing the thieves and criminals from doing¡­ well, thieving, robbing, selling red headgear to non-Redcaps, and other criminal stuff. Besides the vague idea of being or becoming excellent. No one becomes a criminal by respecting the law.


    But again, the Greenskins hadn''t arrived on Arkadia yesterday and weren''t just waiting around for some random Central European guy ¨C or a lawyer ¨C to abuse all the loopholes. They probably had seen every last trick more than once.


    ¡°You seem to know a lot about the Thieves¡¯ not-Guild¡± Prof wondered aloud


    ¡°Why shouldn''t I? It is common knowledge and besides, their headquarters are located right next door. In fact, the honored Redcap M¨¹ller, their not-Guildmaster made a policy to support this betterment center personally. We make most of our income from their not-Guild members. We are the only institution in Saugarten, that teaches classes on [Lockpicking], [Stealth], [Stealing], [Forgery], and a few other illegal Skills!"


    ¡°Hey, one of my party members was looking for just those classes! You are saying, she would just have to walk in here?"


    ¡°Of course not! Teaching those Skills is illegal. If she wasn''t a member of the not-Guild, we couldn¡¯t legally teach her.¡±


    ¡°But you could legally teach illegal Skills to thieves. I see.¡±


    ¡°Yes, exactly. No one would like unaffiliated, non-supervised, and not registered folks sneaking around stealing, picking locks, and murdering other people! That would turn us into Pinkskin lands! Oh, sorry, no offense."


    ¡°None taken.¡±


    Besides the headache, Prof actually managed to get one percent each to [Culture: Greenskinian] and [Laws: Greenskinian] from that conversation. He wasn¡¯t sure, it was worth it.


    Living in a country, blissfully unaware of the local logic, strange customs, and even strange laws was sometimes better. On the other hand, NOT knowing the rules may have been even worse. Take the Domain for example. Prof started to get familiar with [Culture], [Laws] and [Etiquette] only at the very end, and most likely broke more than a few laws, rules, and customs unknowingly and unwillingly. Simply because he did not know, they even existed. Doing that in a culture, that was known for their dislike (or hatred) of non-Elves wasn''t the smartest thing to do.


    Mini was right, without Foxy holding his hand and shielding him from the law, he probably would have ended up dead in a ditch within a few days.


    The Domain had one advantage over Greenskin Lands in Prof''s opinion, however. Gorgeous Elven females with little to no clothing on walking the streets.


    Well, even that got old after a time.


    That, and Greenskins weren¡¯t looking at him like he was dirt or fertilizer.


    Prof decided to visit a proper Human country as soon as they sold their loot from the Valley and finished training with the money they got.

 Chapter 14: Mythrill For The Masses, Part 6

    As the date for the big concert got closer, Wolfgang invited the party and a few others to a final main rehearsal. Prof already gave pointers to everyone in the band, on how to make a true Earth show, but how the different parts fitted together, he hadn''t seen yet. Unfortunately, they couldn''t include the mages in the rehearsal, since it was held in a barn in a small village just outside of Saugarten. Prof had, however, full confidence in them. For that kind of money, he expected nothing less than perfection. The mages were Greenskins, striving for excellence, so his trust was validated.


    Hopefully.


    As it transpired, the band was good, but by far not the best Prof ever heard. The talent was there ¨C Wolfgang invested some effort to find musicians, who in fact had a Talent Perk ¨C the Skill¡­ not so much. Not exactly, in any case. All the respective Skills were around 200%, and Prof could finally place a finger on what that Level exactly meant. Back on Earth the band, Mythrillhead to be precise, never would have made it big, despite all the talent. They could have made it biggish and could have made a living out of playing music, but they weren''t on a level of the most well-known bands on Earth.


    That was even without Prof knowing or understanding anything about playing instruments. His Skills even confirmed that, with each on an almost non-existent Level. Someone, who actually played any instrument or could notice mistakes, would probably have an even worse opinion.


    Be as it may, the band wasn¡¯t bad, and with most songs unknown to the locals, it probably was fine. As Mini used to say, What could possibly go wrong?


    Of course, Mini was an irresponsible, crazy Vampire, and from Prof''s point of view, most things did go wrong, not long after she made her declaration. The better question Prof asked himself, was how badly wrong could it go. The worst-case scenario he could come up, with was that Myrthill and or the concert flopped, and they just threw a lot of money out of the window. They actually and finally had money to spend on fun things, that may or may not have an impact later on.


    Honestly, how bad could a simple concert go? It simply couldn''t lead to, for example, widespread riots, a civil war, or such. It was just music!


    ¡°So, what do you think?" Wolfgang asked after they played a dozen songs.


    ¡°Not bad. You all got the stances and moves, all right, but sometimes it feels a bit wooden or forced¡­¡±


    ¡°Yeah, we know. We all have [Art: Performance] on quite a low Level, it''s hard to find musicians, who not only have that Skill on a high Level but can also play well and have a Talent too. At least people, who are willing to join a no-name band like ours. What about the music? It is more important than the performance."


    ¡°Well, you know, I''m not a musician, but I think, you are doing well. Not exceptional, but well." Prof wasn''t good in pep talk (of course, there was a Skill for that too¡­), but he always though, honesty was way better than giving empty platitudes or telling professionals what to do, all covered up by filler and longer than necessary.


    ¡°Do you think, the public will like it?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have the faintest clue. I don¡¯t exactly know, what Greenskins like, you see. I, for my part, do like it. Back home, you could make a living with this.¡±


    ¡°Good. Guys, we will play the next few songs with magic!¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t do it with the previous songs?!?¡±


    ¡°No. We wanted to give you a baseline first. Guys! One, two, three!¡±


    Well, if previously Mythrillhead was a (maybe) C-listed band, with magic they catapulted themselves right to¡­ above A-list. Something in the magic touched Prof''s inner self, the rhythm just captivated him and launched him straight to orbit. Figuratively, of course. Space travel needed a little bit more than three guitars, a set of drums, and musical magic. But on Arkadia... Well, he would have heard about colonising one of the moons. Probably.


    The three songs, the band played with magic enabled were finished all too fast.


    ¡°Oh, yeah, that was much better!¡±


    ¡°More, gimme more! I deserve more! Now!¡±


    ¡°Mister Wolfgang, that was fantastic! I could march into battle with that music!¡±


    ¡°Yessss. Louder than everyssssing elsssse. Louder than everyone elsssse.¡±


    Even the background decoration was nodding furiously. Almost headbanging, despite the music ending. Well, well, well. The first groupies may have been born.


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    Wolfgang, however, was rolling his shoulders.


    ¡°MYTHRILL is good, but I don¡¯t think, I can play all the songs in one go, especially, if I cast spells. My axe is too heavy for that. I think I will play only every other song."


    ¡°No, no, no!¡± Mini looked immediately desperate ¡°You are the best player in the band and you are the band leader! Oh, wait! I have the solution!¡±


    Mini ran outside, where Binky was parked, happily munching on some Gremlins, rummaged through her bags, and after a few minutes, came back triumphantly. She was waving the polka-dotted bandana around, she appropriated from the loot in the Valley.


    ¡°Here. It is red, and it helps with holding and using heavy weapons!"


    Since Wolfgang¡¯s axe was in effect a two-handed battleaxe with six strings attached to it, handing over the bandana was actually a good idea. For Mini willingly parting with any of her clothes or loot, she must have really fallen in love with Mythrill. Or, since it was Mini, fallen in lust. The latter was more likely.


    Or she just had one of her usual crazy motives.


    After a short break, the band played the other half of the playlist, with low-intensity magic infused into the playing. At certain points, a larger spell was cast, and Prof suspected it gave more weight to the overall lyrics and rhythm. It was clear, the band gave thought to where those bursts of magic should be placed since it gave everything a rhythm on its own. It was a long time since Prof attended a concert on Earth and an even longer time since he was able to see one of the Big Names.


    This was better.


    If Prof ever went back to Earth ¨C not that he planned to do it ¨C and could only bring one thing with him, it would be music magic. He would feed it to Big Name bands! It would be epic! No, legendary! Fuck that, not even mythical could cover it!


    Well, most likely, he would just bring a crazy expensive piece of jewelry or gem back and would be set for life.


    Walking back to the city, happily chatting, they were accosted by the not-Guildmaster, an older-looking Goblin in rich clothes, and a few bodyguards not far inside the city limits.


    ¡°Klavierspieler! What do you think you are doing? I have explicitly forbidden to play that vulgar and violent music!¡±


    ¡°You can''t ban music! Especially not our original music, left behind by our most honored ancestor! This is hindering and preventing!"


    ¡°Hah! Don¡¯t try to lawyer yourself out of this! No one is hindering and preventing you to become excellent! No one is preventing you to play regulated music, Granite or Clay, that is. You may even play foreign music, even if I don¡¯t understand, why anyone would. You just aren¡¯t allowed to play this new music of yours. It¡¯s not for Greenskins. It¡¯s not excellent!¡±


    ¡°So, you are taking advantage of your position of control and acceptance to hinder cultural progress by controlling the populace¡¯s access to information that is not regulated by yourself?¡±


    ¡°Uhm, what?¡±


    ¡°Sir, I think, the honored Redcap meant, you are oppressing different cultural possibilities. And that you are abusing your position." Prof helped the not-Guildmaster out. It was important to be polite to figures of authority and help them out if they found themselves in a bind.


    ¡°You, Pinkskin! Stay out of this! You are just a vagrant with some money, this concerns the not-Guild and the Greenskins, not you!¡± The figure of authority in question rejected his participation in the discussion.


    How rude.


    Oh, that was probably Prof¡¯s Parvenu Perk influencing the reaction. It was a long time since it had raised its head ¨C in fact, the last time was back in Smallgrovewell. Prof thought it strange, that the Elves weren''t influenced by it, but then again, Foxy was somewhat shielding him and most Elves probably hated his guts even without that Perk.


    ¡°The Human is right, though." Wolfgang said, "You are abusing your position to regulate music and oppress your fellow not-Guild members!¡±


    ¡°This¡­ this¡­ is outrageous! Klavierspieler, you have been warned! If you continue with this concert of yours, it will have consequences! Heed my words!¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t forbid me from playing MYTHRILL!¡±


    ¡°Yes, I can!¡±


    ¡°No, you can¡¯t¡±


    ¡°Yes, I can!¡±


    ¡°Come on, folks, let''s get back to the tavern." Prof dragged Wolfgang away before the discussion fully degenerated into a childish back-and-forth. He thought grown men would handle such issues with more grace. At least, no one started waving weapons around. Not even Mini.


    However, the whole thing was ominous ¨C it didn¡¯t bode well for the future, if the guild master, who was responsible for musical entertainment was threatening with consequences.


    ¡°Don''t worry, Prof." Mini consoled him "He is all bark and no bite. You know what, we will bring Binky with us, so you won''t be so scared!" She even patted his head.


    ¡°Miss Minerva is right, though." Bianca added, "We should be prepared for battle."


    ¡°It¡¯s just a concert! What could the guild master do? Sing us to death?¡±


    ¡°You do realize, [Magic: Sound] could do just that? It literally can create a magical sound that hurts and can even lead to deafness and in certain circumstances, death."


    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t that be contrary to being excellent to each other?¡±


    ¡°Theoretically, yes. But you know, theory and practice are different things.¡±


    That was just fantastic.

 Chapter 15: The Most Excellent Concert, Part 1

    Another few days passed, and it finally was time for introducing Mythrill to the general populace. The party and Wolfgang¡¯s band were at the racetrack first thing in the morning, checking everything and supervising the last preparations. The latter mostly consisted of standing around and looking important, though. And drinking beer.


    The party was geared for battle, just to be sure, including full armor, weapons, magical trinkets, and potions in bandoleers. That piece of equipment and the potions for it, mostly Health Potions, but also a few for Magic Resistance and one or two Stealth Potions for Sharpclaw, were a late addition and mostly wiped out their last liquid assets. The only concession Prof made in regards to the party was his fancy dancing shoes ¨C although he had his boots tucked away behind the stage.


    As the sun shone on his shined shoes while Sandra was singing on the stage, Prof felt content. After all the months on Arkadia, this was the first time, he felt like he did something meaningful, surrounded by good friends, sipping passable beer, and listening to good music.


    And being considered rich.


    The band, on the other hand, was wearing only their stage clothes. Those outfits included, however, three two-handed axes, and a pair of¡­ those thingies which were used to beat up innocent drums. Sized for an Ogre. And, well, heavy leather jackets reinforced with rivets and just a few metal plates. Fashionable and safe, all in one. Actually, the rest of the party, even Sharpclaw, placed orders for similar jackets, all with the name "Mythrillhead¡± and the band¡¯s logo etched on the back.


    The background dancers-slash-singers, which included Mini too, wore the costumes, everyone, which did not include Mini, agreed upon: black ankle-high studded boots, black canvas shorts, that reached just above the knees, and black sleeveless shirts with the band¡¯s name and logo on it. The girls wore even makeup. Every Greenskin agreed, the costumes were borderline scandalous ¨C especially Mini¡¯s, who somehow managed to get shorter, more form-fitting pieces ¨C but were still acceptable. Barely.


    Mini prepared her weapons and "battle gear" too, hiding them behind the stage, and setting Binky to guard it.


    Prof''s party wasn''t the only protection for the concert, though. The brewery brought a couple of¡­ burly "workers" too, officially to help unload the barrels, but Prof could recognize bouncers if he saw them. Attentively standing around the beer stand, and brandishing clubs helped with identifying them immensely. The mages didn''t even make the effort to try pretending their bodyguards were anything but. The racetrack provided a few workers and warriors too. No one really expected anything going sideways, but when you had a ¨C hopefully ¨C large crowd, a little preparation was in order.


    The first festival goers started to arrive around noon. Prof was utterly unable to gauge the age of Greenskins ¨C he learned, that they grew up faster than Humans ¨C but they behaved themselves like older teenagers or young adults. It was probably an underlying rule of all the Multiverses, that people in that age bracket behaved mostly identically, no matter the species, world, or era. It took only an hour or so for the first wannabe to become stiff drunk, and pass out in the middle of the racetrack. His friends followed not much later.


    If they were lucky, they would sober up till evening enough to enjoy the concert. And to get drunk again till midnight.


    Prof asked the racetrack''s personnel to drop the drunkards somewhere out of the way into a shadow. Having drunk teenagers splayed around in the middle of the dancefloor before the concert even started, didn''t look good, after all. That and Prof was quite certain, no one invented insurance on Arkadia yet, so a few unconscious youths being trampled would just lead to him paying through his nose.


    The other rule of all the multiverses was, that if there was a crowd, folks selling food, trinkets, and random junk would pop up within minutes. Arkadia in general, and its first mythrill concert in special wasn''t an exception to this rule either. The very first entrepreneur was a shifty-looking Hob with a tray fixed by straps to his front, selling what Prof would call Hot Dogs. The Hob even swore they were made of a hundred percent genuine, prime dog meat. For some reason, Prof doubted it very much¡­


    Others followed soon, too. Stalls and desks sprung up like mold in a basement. Some of the items Prof could understand as possible merchandise for a concert, others not so much, and others left him just flabbergasted. Sure, food and drink were a given, musical instruments to be expected ¨C it was a musical venue, after all ¨C cheap jewelry, clothes, and weapons could be rationalized too, pottery, baskets, and candles, not so much. When a stall, selling cosmetics, was set up, Prof just shook his head. The final straw was a tent where orders were taken for comfy-looking chairs.


    ¡°We should demand royalty or money for the places! This is starting to look like a market, not a concert.¡± He said to the party and the band


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    ¡°Taking money from honest merchants in an open venue without a previous arrangement isn''t excellent!" Wolfgang countered "It would just propagate suppression of free trade for the benefit of the rich. Besides, this is about introducing MYTHRILL to the masses, not making money! The new music is more important, than a few Hellers!"


    ¡°Actually, the racetrack owner rented out those places.¡± interjected Bianca ¡°I overheard some merchants discussing the prices.¡±


    ¡°Really? We should ask the racetrack owner for our share then!¡±


    ¡°No, you can''t." This time it was Wilhelm, who shot down his idea "By the common law, he is entitled to the whole amount. He rented the place out to us for an excellent price, and there is no exclusivity clause in such an arrangement. He can rent out the rest of the racetrack to other parties, as long as the primary contractor, that is us, isn''t limited in his intended venue. If you demand royalty from the owner, he could and would refuse. If you were to press the issue, we would be fined, not him."


    ¡°Oh¡­ How do you know all this?¡±


    ¡°I have [Law: Greenskinian] and a few other, complimentary Skills at above 200%. I sometimes work as a lawyer when not playing¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry. Must be awful.¡±


    ¡°Thank you. My father always said I should learn at least two crafts. I ended up with law. He almost disinherited me for that."


    ¡°Bummer¡­¡±


    ¡°You tell me. Thankfully, I¡¯m quite good in [First Aid], so I work at a hospital as a nurse too.¡±


    Well, everyone needed to know a few crafts and an honest job. Maybe Prof should do so too. At that time he was good at bashing heads with axes, looting, and evaluating loot, but not much more. That was more or less good for an adventurer, but there were only so many heads he could bash and stuff to loot. Either he chose Highway Robber as his day job, or he needed to learn an honest profession soon.


    Something, that was neither smelly nor involved hard physical labor. Maybe something, that complemented his adventurous lifestyle. [Archeology], to help unearth buried treasures? No, archeologists weren¡¯t known to get rich ¨C but wasn¡¯t that because they sent their loot¡­ khmmm¡­ findings to museums, instead of selling them on the open market? Maybe he should pick up [Distiller]? Every organic material can be turned into booze, after all, and even his Character Parchment said, he needed his weekly fix.


    Or, he could learn, how to make musical instruments! He didn¡¯t know anything about that now, but it only took throwing a Level worth of Skill Points at the problem, and he would be passable! No, he already wanted to have [Art: Painting] and [Art: Drawing]. That would help make him maps. Selling maps was lucrative, no? Besides, a good painter was going to be famous, in only a few centuries, and every museum would be full of his work! If that didn''t work out, he could get into politics, and become the supreme leader of a country¡­ Eh, no, it didn''t work out for the last guy either. And politics? He was planning out an honest career!


    Either way, the next Level was probably some time away, he wasn¡¯t doing all that much in the last month, and if what Mini said about leveling was correct, he would need to get off his ass and do something. For example, bash heads with axes.


    Be as it may, it was already afternoon, with only a few hours left till the concert started, and he was getting hungry. He eyed the Hob selling Hot Dogs. It was cheap, and he had quite a high poison resistance with his magical trinket equipped. It was probably safe¡­


    He ended up buying a few pretzels, though. From a real stand, brandishing the name of a bakery, he was marginally familiar with. No need to experiment with food poisoning and how good his resistance really was.


    An hour before Wolfgang¡¯s concert was scheduled to begin, another band took to the stage. Prof may have let the idea of a lead-up band slip, but the Greenskins already knew of the concept. It wasn¡¯t exactly like back on Earth, where a Big Name found some marginally known and good folks to whip up the crowd, but more like¡­ well¡­ giving mostly unknown folks a chance to play before an audience. As the band explained, performing before a large crowd probably helped to Level. Helping low-Level performers was an excellent thing to do.


    Whatever the intention was, the effect was mostly the same.


    The very first band played Clay and wasn''t exactly good either. Thankfully, after only three songs, they gave way to another group, playing almost-Granite. Theodor, who had quite a Skill in [Music Theory], tried to explain the intricacies of the different genres in Greenskin music, but Prof blanked out almost immediately. It was enough for him to differentiate between Clay, Granite, and Mythrill. He wasn''t exactly interested in what the difference between Speed Clay, Goblin Clay, Deepgreen Clay, Rhythmic Granite, Straw Granite, Blunt Granite, Romance Granite, and Raider Clay-Granite was. Or Sediment. Just to name a few.


    As he found out, every band played only three songs, and every band played harder, faster, and heavier. The very last one was¡­ not mythrill, not by a long shot, but the hardest, fastest, heaviest Granite he heard in the last month.


    By the time, Mythrillhead took to the stage, the racetrack was packed full.


    The most excellent concert to introduce mythrill was about to start.

 Chapter 15: The Most Excellent Concert, Part 2

    ¡°WELCOME EVERYBODY!" Wolfgang was standing in the middle of the stage, shouting at the top of his lungs, magic further amplifying his word "WE ARE MYTHRILLHEAD AND. WE. BRING. YOU. MYTHRILL!!!¡±


    The presentation was half the win, and Wolfgang did it well. Being Charismatic and having Showman probably helped ¨C interestingly, the Orc was able to use his Negative Perk in a positive way. Sure, his stance, the way he held his axe, his wide gestures, and the way he wore his clothes, were overblown and showy, but it was exactly, what was needed for a successful entertainer. Or so Prof heard.


    The pillars of flames on both sides of the stage certainly gave an awesome look.


    As soon as the first riffs were played, Prof noticed a few official-looking Greenskins approaching the stage from the back. One of them was even playing the flute, not that it could be heard over the guitars and drums and Sandra screaming. Binky was happily munching on some Gremlins and didn''t look like he was giving the newcomers any mind. Prof knew better. If they came any closer or tried to threaten his mistress, the Scorpionlizard would be munching on Gobs, Hobs, and Orcs in a few seconds.


    That wasn''t good. If Mini''s mount started to munch on official-looking folks, it was highly likely, even more official-looking folks would arrive and asked pointed questions. Which would lead to said mount munching on even more official-looking people. The result would be heavily armed official-looking folks arriving, and not asking questions.


    ¡°Good evening, Sir. How can I help you?¡± Prof engaged his Gentleman Perk on the most highly ranked official-looking individual. It was almost second nature by this time. Actually, since the Character Parchment described exactly, what one was, and how one behaved, it was first nature to him. He already noticed he had to make a conscious effort to not be polite to anyone.


    ¡°Are you related in any way to this band and venue, Sir?¡± The let¡¯s-call-him-officer asked back


    ¡°I''m a friend of the band, yes. Helped them set up the concert. Why? What may the issue be?" If it wasn''t for officials, Prof probably would have boasted, he was a Stage Manager or something. But with officials, it was better to stay with the truth. He had no official standing with the band or the concert. Please go away and fine someone else! The Greenskins were amateurs in fining folks when compared to Elves. They probably would have fined him anyway for loitering, illegal security work, or breathing offensively.


    ¡°The honored not-Guildmaster of the Musician¡¯s not-Guild fielded a complaint against this band playing a piece of so-called new music. According to the complaint, the new music is illegal and the band was explicitly forbidden to play it. We are here to hand over a cease and desist order."


    Oh, the old Goblin tried to lawyer his way so Mythrillhead wasn¡¯t able to play after all. Bad Luck. For the old Goblin, that is!


    Fortunately, one of the band members was good in laws, and so had contacts to the Thieves¡¯ not-Guild. More likely, Wilhelm was a member. He ¨C and a few colleagues, who were "accidentally" there ¨C spent an hour giving Prof pointers and phrases, on how to handle a situation just like this. Almost as if they knew, something like this would happen.


    ¡°I understand, Sir. Since I''m just a friend of the band, I can only forward the order to them after the concert is over. Disturbing them while they are playing would be preventing and hindering. As far as I know, the local law, that would be considered a serious crime!"


    ¡°Indeed, it would be!" the official nodded. Strangely, it almost looked like he was nodding along to the rhythm. "Since it is such a serious crime, I would have to go back and ask my superiors what to do."


    ¡°Or, you could just wait here, and hand the order over to the band after the concert.¡± almost all of the officials were nodding furiously by this point. The flute player was even salivating with wide eyes.


    ¡°Yes, that would be acceptable. We could report on this excellent¡­ ehmm¡­ I mean, so-called new music more exhaustively if we stayed. Squad, listen to the music most attentively, and watch the band closely!"


    ¡°Yes, Sir! Understood, Sir!¡±


    Prof thought about giving the officials a few protective drinks so they wouldn''t be parched while they waited, but unfortunately, there was only a small keg of beer behind the stage, and giving free booze to officials could be considered bribing. He wouldn''t bribe officials, that would be a crime! Also, the keg was only ten liters or so and was meant for the security detail (him and his party) and the band.


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    By the third song, the first row of the audience was headbanging furiously, shouting the lyrics. Well, not exactly the lyrics, because those were completely new to everyone not friends with the band, but some approximation of what they thought the lyrics were. All with a few seconds delay to the band. Well, since everyone believed the lyrics to be something else, and everyone had a different delay, the audience was more or less shouting random things.


    At least they figured out the chorus part on the second try.


    It still was disturbing to hear a very well-known song, Prof basically grew up with, sung in a completely different language, but nevertheless understanding every word. Not necessarily with the same rhythm, though. It was still different, since no language on Arkadia, as far as Prof was aware, had a word, or knew the concepts for a lot of things in that particular song. The chorus ended up something like: I''m on a well-maintained cobbled road to a very bad place. In Greenskinian, it actually rhymed and sounded better.


    Whoever was the nameless Traveller, who brought Granite to the Greenskins, complied and translated a few hundred classical metal songs to the Greenskinian language and culture was, was a genius. That, and he came from the same Central European country, Prof was.


    How did he know, you ask?


    Simply, there were a few songs in the book that were played by random musicians, that were from his home country. No one outside of his people was able to learn that language, so it was highly improbable, a random foreigner would know those songs, and could translate them into Greenskinian.


    This was probably a record. Despite being a small nation, everywhere you went on Earth, you would meet a fellow countryman, or someone, who was a descendant of one. To meet a compatriot¡¯s descendant in a completely different universe¡­


    All right, that was a slight exaggeration. It was probably hard to find a fellow countryman in¡­ one of those tiny island countries in the Pacific. But maybe not.


    The mages were really starting to do their job by this point. Illusions, from marching soldiers to mythical beasts were flying over the audience, while multicolored lights shone on the band. There were even spurts of flames shooting up from the sides. The whole thing probably would have violated dozens of safety regulations on Earth. but, here, no one cared. This was Arkadia!


    By the fourth song, the flute player of the officials approached him.


    ¡°Sir, may I ask a question?¡± Prof gestured to him to continue ¡°What exactly are those girls doing there in the background? With their heads?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s called headbanging. A kind of dance. See the first row of the audience? They¡¯ve got it.¡±


    ¡°Aha! I think it looks better the way that Human females do it with her¡­ fur on their heads."


    ¡°Hair. It indeed looks better that way. Having hair isn¡¯t obligatory to headbang, though.¡± Prof was ready to reassure a member of a race, where everyone was bald.


    ¡°Hmmmm¡­ Do you think, it would be possible to make artificial hair and wear it on your head? It would be an awesome sight! Greenskins of every race headbanging! With hair on their heads! I wonder if someone could make it happen."


    ¡°A wig? Why not. You would have to glue it on your head, or else it would fly away in no time. You would need actual hair, horse mane, or thin fiber, though. Hey!"


    ¡°Officer! I¡¯m quitting! Got an excellent new idea! Bye!¡±


    Oh crap. Prof accidentally introduced ¡°hair¡± to an innocent world. Hopefully, it wouldn¡¯t spread. He hoped very sincerely, that no one would combine ¡°hair¡± with ¡°music¡± ¨C Arkadia wasn¡¯t ready for that. Of course, neither was Earth, and it still survived. Barely.


    By the sixth song ¨C about Booze in the Jug ¨C the audience started to go crazy. As far as Prof could see, everyone was showing a certain sign, with two fingers pointing forward while shaking their heads violently. It took only a few cases of the band doing that sign, and the audience already picked it up.


    Working a crowd into a frenzy was much easier with magic. Even assuming, some might have resistances. Actually, everyone had resistances, it was coupled to Stats, after all. [Magic: Music] was coupled to Emotional Stability, if Prof remembered correctly. Of course, some people had extra Perks for heightening their resistances. Or magical trinkets.


    The seventh song saw the first panties sailing up to the stage. Sexy underwear wasn''t exactly invented yet ¨C or, at least widely known or worn, "sexy" involved most likely only some frills on normal underwear ¨C so the panties in question were more or less ones you would expect from a medieval society: knee length, undyed linen.


    Prof always wondered, how females were able to unequip their panties during such concerts, and what exactly they thought by flinging it up to a stage, but some mysteries should stay just that. Mysteries.


    As the eighth song was ending, a runner arrived from the licensed beer stand.


    ¡°Mister Prof! Mister Prof!" the young-looking Goblin waved his hand "Problems at the stall! A gang is breaking the mugs and isn''t allowing new customers to order!"


    Was this just a regular shakedown or the not-Guildmaster''s next escalation? Probably the second, from what Prof learned in the last month, shakedowns and similar criminal activity weren''t common in Ostwaldland. To be sure, he collected Bianca and Sharpclaw, leaving Binky to guard the stage.


    Circling the crowd and the other stalls from behind, it took them only a few minutes to arrive. Prof had to reassess his theory about the situation being a common shakedown immediately after seeing the ¡°gang¡±.


    All six were Human.

 Chapter 15: The Most Excellent Concert, Part 3

    ¡°Good evening, gentlemen. What seems to be the issue?" Prof asked them in Greenskinian. This time, he hasn''t forgotten to use [Observe] on the other party. For one, possibly the leader, he only got the return of "Level 11", the others were just Level 5 to Level 8 "normals". All were clothed in cheap leather, wielding clubs and cudgels. Prof hoped he could defuse the situation with diplomacy ¨C not that his Skill in [Diplomacy], [Convincing], or [Intimidation] was very good. There were times when a crazed Vampire was useful.


    ¡°The stall closed! Move away!¡± the gang boss declared in broken Greenskinian


    ¡°Is that so? This has to be a mistake. I don¡¯t remember closing it.¡±


    ¡°Hah! We close it! We are Yellow Horse Security Company.¡±


    ¡°Oh! And what gives you the right to close the stall?¡±


    ¡°We are Yellow Horse Security Company, we given¡­ ehmmm¡­ how do you say¡­ authority to close stalls!¡±


    ¡°Given authority by whom?" Prof had an idea. It was clear, neither the party, nor the band had hired the so-called security company, and he doubted very much, the owner of the racetrack did so, without telling them. Or gave the hired help the authority to randomly close stalls. Random stalls, that were operated by the party and the band.


    ¡°Old Goblin. How do you call position, Tiny Tim?¡± He asked a two-meter tall man with an almost thirty centimeters long beard.


    ¡°Not-Guildmaster, boss.¡±


    ¡°Yes, what he said!¡±


    ¡°You mean the not-Guildmaster of the Musician¡¯s not-Guild?¡± the security company nodding confirmed Prof¡¯s suspicion. That slimy old¡­ slime! ¡°I don¡¯t think, that old Goblin has the right to close a stall. If you can¡¯t prove he has the right, and what kind of infraction the stall did, please leave and don¡¯t hinder and prevent.¡±


    Prof wasn''t good in law, no matter if on Earth or on Arkadia, but he learned enough from all those TV shows. Threatening the other party with hindering and preventing was a trick, Wilhelm taught him.


    If the other party was Greenskins, the trick may have even worked. Unfortunately, they were Humans. Either because they didn¡¯t give a damn, or were too dumb to understand the threat, they puffed themselves up.


    ¡°No! We be paid for closing stall! Beat up stall if not closed!¡±


    ¡°You sure about that?¡± Prof put his hand on his axes. If diplomacy wasn¡¯t going to cut it, he would continue with intimidation.


    ¡°Yes! You are two, we are six!¡± Obviously, Prof¡¯s [Intimidation] check failed, just like the security officer¡¯s one for [Mathematics]. Prof had two friends with him, not counting the stall''s "workers", who inconspicuously inched forward, brandishing crowbars and cudgels on their own. Prof swept his gaze over his party and had to concede, the ruffian could indeed count. Sharpclaw was nowhere to be found.


    Of course, the little Kobold wasn''t the stand-up and fight kind. She was the sneak around stealthily and stab you in the back kind. It would have been a legendary, flashy move if Sharpclaw had taken advantage of the moment to put a knife to the Human''s throat.


    There was only one problem with that: Sharpclaw was waist-high, so it was physically impossible for her to reach a grown Human man''s throat. She could, however, reach the most important organs of every male without problems.


    Even so, she didn''t make her sharp claws or even sharper knives known at that precise moment. Such convenient, well-timed events happened only in stories and movies.


    Prof wasn''t exactly sure, how the Greenskins legally handled such situations. Would it count as self-defense, if he killed or seriously wounded the thugs? Would he need to wait for them to attack him first? Would clubs and cudgels considered lethal weapons, and him using axes as an excessive force?


    Prof decided, to give defusing the situation another chance. Going to prison wasn¡¯t on his to-do list ¨C dungeons were there to plunder them, not sitting around in them, chained to a wall.


    ¡°If you continue with the obstruction and threats, I will be forced to contact the guards. This is clearly an illegal action you are doing. Your master doesn¡¯t have jurisdiction over the stall or the concert. Just walk away.¡±


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    ¡°Oops¡­¡± the head thug accidentally pushed a couple of mugs from the stall¡¯s desk ¡°I¡¯m so clumsy. Oops, I did it again!¡±


    Could it have been done in any more clich¨¦ way? Even that goofy, false smile was there. That smile turned immediately into horror, though.


    ¡°I clumsssy too¡­ Hand ssssslipsss easssy! Tsssug not move!" Well, Sharpclaw did have a notion of dramatic entry, after all. With sharp claws pressed against the orbs of procreation, she put the head thug in a pinch. It was almost certain, he wouldn''t fight tooth and nail anymore. Not against a Kobold, holding his future in her hands.


    ¡°Just to be sure, you understand the situation correctly, I will translate." since Sharpclaw didn''t speak Greenskinian, and Prof wasn''t sure, the security company understood garbled Bergian, so he decided to be polite and help them out. "She is quite clumsy, and her hands slip easily. In order to not cause a very painful accident, I would recommend you stand completely still. If you understand, please jump up and down. All right, no need to blanch, you can just nod."


    That was probably a tiny bit cruel, but Prof was hanging around Mini for a long time now, and as such things went, not just dirt got stuck on him. The workers, led by Bianca, surrounded the other thugs in the meantime.


    ¡°So, since you hadn¡¯t just walked away, I will have to charge for damages. How many mugs have they destroyed?¡±


    ¡°About three dozen, that we are aware of.¡± Answered the Hob in charge of the stall ¡°Half of them printed, the other half the normal ones from the brewery.¡±


    ¡°Let''s see¡­ A printed mug comes to fifteen Groschen, a simple one to around ten. That would be four and a half Schillinge. Since your interference caused no sales to be possible, a loss in income has occurred. How long did the obstruction occur?"


    ¡°Ten minutes, or so.¡±


    ¡°So, each minute, ten beers could have been sold¡­"


    ¡°It¡¯s just six¡± the Hob helped him. Being excellent to each other obviously precluded the fleecing of thugs.


    ¡°Thank you very much. Sixty beers not sold, with a beer costing ten Groschen, you caused the loss of further six Schillinge. The wage for the runner, the bartenders, and the cost of the involvement of myself, a highly skilled shieldmaiden, and an assassin could be summed up to another Schilling. You owe us eleven and a half Schillinge. Let''s call it twelve because the negotiation already took time and the service is still impossible. How do you intend to pay your debt?"


    Having a passable Level in [Commerce] helped immensely in the negotiation. Maybe even [Looting]. Definitely, the countless times, when he was fined by the Elves.


    ¡°You want twelve Schillinge from us?! That¡¯s more than we were paid!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see how that influences the damage you have caused.¡±


    ¡°But we don''t have anywhere enough money for that! We have no money at all!"


    ¡°Everyone but the boss, strip.¡±


    ¡°Please no!¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on, Bianca. They won¡¯t show the family jewels! Right? Good. Now, please move away from the stall. You already have collected another fifty Groschen debt.¡±


    The thugs grudgingly inched away from the stall, closely observed by the workers and Bianca. As soon as they were out of the way, they started to strip down to their underwear, throwing everything into a pile. Prof didn''t expect much from them, but the result was disappointing even so. The value of the five sets of cheap armor didn''t even cover half the debt he calculated. The clothing, including boots and hoods, was basically worthless. He would be happy if he was able to sell the whole for maybe twenty Groschen or so. The weapons had only a symbolic worth as firewood.


    It was time to engage [Looting]!


    He went through the pile again, patting down everything, looking for hidden pockets or hidden valuables. He even looked at the hands of the debtors, hoping they have hidden something. The loot was nothing the bards would sing songs about. Barely a handful of coppers (in unknown currency), a few baubles, and a few pieces of general gear. Even the boss'' slightly better gear and slightly more money weren''t able to cover the calculated debt.


    Luckily, the calculation was bogus, to begin with.


    The only real damage done was the shattered mugs, and the cost for them was covered by the liberated gear. The loss of income was an outright lie, Prof doubted, the stall had even enough beer and booze for all the Greenskins currently headbanging to mythrill. The so-called incurred costs were not even worth calling a lie ¨C after all, the workers would be paid so or so, and neither Prof nor his two party members were paid anything. In the end effect, Prof made a profit of almost two Schillinge from shaking down the people who tried to shake him down.


    It was strange, nonetheless. His [Con] was so low, he probably couldn¡¯t even swindle candy from a toddler. Either the thugs were extremely stupid, or literally having them by the balls helped immensely.


    ¡°You know what, gentlemen, I¡¯m feeling magnanimous. I will waive the rest of your debt, you may go. If we see you again, we will collect the rest of the money you still owe us.¡±


    ¡°But we have only our underpants left!¡±


    ¡°That is indeed a serious problem you have. You should hope, the authorities won¡¯t arrest you for public disturbance. Skulk away now.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t do that to us!¡±


    ¡°As I see, you have two choices right now. Skulk away, or discuss the issue with my friend, the starved Vampire.¡±


    ¡°We will go now, but this is far from over!¡±


    That was funny. What were they trying to do? Wave certain appendages around? That would scare only Bianca off. Probably.


    In the background, a new song started.

 Chapter 15: The Most Excellent Concert, Part 4

    Surprisingly, no other issues surfaced until the mid-concert break. Everything was totally normal for a totally normal, average mythrill-concert. Folks headbanging, the audience trying to get the lyrics right while shouting a vague approximation at the top of their lungs, overly drunk people vomiting on marginally drunk people, marginally drunk people punching overly drunk people in the face because they were drenched in vomit¡­


    The usual.


    Greenskins took to Mythrill and concert like kids to candy, Prof had to concede. Even with their previous knowledge of Clay and Granite, it was still surprising ¨C Arkadia was a medieval world, after all. To be honest, even knowing and loving Clay and Granite and incorporating them into their everyday life to such an extent, was a little bit strange. If Prof were in a novel, he would have sworn, the author was just pulling his legs. Or thinking, what a hillariously funny idea it would be to make Greenskins into music addicts.


    Luckily, he was not in a fiction, but in a living and breathing ¨C and most importantly: real ¨C world. A somewhat strange world to be frank, where the Administrator was probably an utter moron, but it could have been worse. For example, there were no Great Old Ones. At least Prof hoped so sincerely. But wait, didn''t Mini tell him about a Dragonkin Archlich, having his own estate in Forestdeep?


    Be as it may, the concert was going splendidly. After the first two attempts, no multiple-letter agency tried to forcefully put an end to people having fun. No under-equipped Adventurers, aka Common Thugs, tried to shake down vendors or provoke a brawl. No monsters were let loose on the audience, nothing.


    Of course, barely twenty minutes passed since the second ¨C amateurish ¨C attempt. Most likely, that little green slimy¡­ slime was just scrambling to find someone, who could make another try. What was his problem anyways? Granite was common knowledge, and Mythrill wasn¡¯t all that different. If Wolfgang ever invented more extreme sub-genres, like those on Earth, Prof would have understood the reluctance, but the style Mythrillhead was playing was¡­ Well, Prof had not the faintest idea, what that particular sub-genre would have been called. Probably Alternative Greenskin Speedy Trashgrunge. Or something like that.


    He had an idea when he saw the grinning mage, responsible for the illusions.


    ¡°Adept, would it be possible to project the lyrics somewhere? The audience wouldn''t need to guess it that way, and could sing along." Karaoke wasn''t a bad idea in certain circumstances. For example, when no one knew the lyrics yet.


    ¡°That would be excellent! I was thinking about that already! My poor fellow Greenskins aren¡¯t having an excellent time without knowing what exactly to sing. On my own, I wouldn¡¯t be able to do that and the illusions, however. But wait! My nephew is an apprentice in the not-Guild, and although he isn¡¯t good enough for the illusions, he should be able to project words.¡±


    ¡°How fast could you get him?¡±


    ¡°He is standing on the other side of the stage, studying the synergy between different schools of magic" The Goblin mage waved to a wide-eyed Ogre, standing not far away over. Quickly explaining, what was needed of him, he immediately agreed.


    ¡°It would be an honor! Helping this excellent venue get even more excellent! Helping others to enjoy it even more, would be excellent!" The Ogre, Werner by name, was clearly star-struck. So much, in fact, that he didn''t even want payment for the job. Prof had the feeling, that as an apprentice, he wasn''t entitled to payment to begin with, but he made the offer anyways.


    Of course, the apprentice needed to know the lyrics, he was to project, so Prof took him to a tent behind the stage, reserved for the band. Wolfgang and the rest were sitting outside, however, visibly tired but clearly happy.


    ¡°Prof, my friend! This is going even better than I hoped! Everyone loves MYTHRILL!¡± the bringer of new music declared loudly ¡°We should do this again sometimes!¡±


    ¡°You could go on a tour, and visit every large town and city.¡± Prof absentmindedly supplied


    ¡°Like a traveling bard? Not many do that, most just stay in their towns or cover nearby villages."


    ¡°You want Mythrill to be widely known, travelling around would do that faster.¡± And what band did not make a tour every other year, after all? Showing their faces to the fans, and making a shitload of money. Prof just needed to come up with an awesome name for the tour. Maybe The Mythrill Tour? Or something like that.


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    ¡°Wolfgang, I found an apprentice, who would project the lyrics, so everyone could sing along. If I remember correctly, you wrote them down for practice. Do you have it with you?¡±


    ¡°Sure. It¡¯s the stack of papers on the desk in there. I will get it.¡±


    ¡°No need. Collect your strength for the second part. Come on, Werner.¡±


    Right after entering the tent, Prof noticed a few things. First, the inventory was in utter disarray, with the back of the tent cut open. The second was Mini drinking a random Human in the middle of the chaos. Lastly, Binky was munching on something that looked disturbingly by another random Human. It probably was one. Sometimes not so long ago.


    Everything pointed in one direction: Mini lost herself and abducted two random Humans to have her way and dinner with them! Or so Prof would have thought if he was prone to misunderstandings. Scratch that. Knowing Mini, every sane person would come to that assumption. She was a crazy, irresponsible bloodsucker after all. Stupid, however, she was not. Killing probably-two Humans in front of a few thousand witnesses would be stupid, and would most likely lead to the witnesses grabbing their weapons for some light exercise. Or inform the authorities, from which a small squad was standing less than ten meters away.


    ¡°Look, Prof! I captured thieves! You can praise me now." Well, maybe-two thieves cutting their way into the tent to plunder would be another explanation for the situation. However¡­


    ¡°Mini, capturing means, the captives are alive after the capture. If they are dead, you should say, I killed thieves.¡±


    ¡°Bah, semantics! Technically, they were alive after I captured them! This one is still alive. Oh, sorry, no. Probably died of shock.¡±


    ¡°Shock? You drank him dry.¡±


    ¡°Yes, shock. Shock because my gorgeous self was ready to interact with him. And shock of blood loss. And I may have hit him on the head a few times. Blunt trauma could be called shock, no? Anyways, praise me for Binky noticing evil-doers trying to plunder from us!"


    ¡°Have you at least found out, what they wanted?¡±


    ¡°No. They were speaking in Fallerian, I think. Or some other language. Even I¡¯m not so awesome to know every language on Fenria! That would be¡­ ehmmm¡­ Dozens?¡±


    Prof decided it wasn''t worth continuing that line of discussion. Why debate semantics? In effect, it made no difference whatsoever, if the thieves were alive while captured, they had most likely-two corpses on their hands. Less every second, Binky was munching happily and fast. Prof thought for a moment, what use was capturing someone, since every last of their captives so far was killed a short time later anyways. He shrugged. He would try to capture them, he even had a Perk for it, the others could do what they liked with the captives later.


    Prof spotted the mentioned stack of papers right below an overturned desk and handed them to the shaking Ogre. Werner''s terrified gaze was fixed on Binky. He probably never saw a corpse or how they were disposed of out in the wilds. Or how Greenskins handled their dead. Talking about the local funeral rites, Prof realized, he haven''t seen a graveyard in Ostwaldland yet. Whatever, Werner should grow up, and get used to dead people. Arkadia wasn''t a peaceful world, pieces of people were practically lying everywhere! Prof kicked a finger, that must have rolled away, back to Binky and escorted their new karaoke machine out of the tent.


    ¡°Do you think, you would be able to memorize the lyrics in the few minutes we have left?¡± He asked the apprentice illusionist.


    ¡°Fifteen songs¡­ Let¡¯s see¡­ Well, the lyrics aren¡¯t that long or difficult. If I can keep the papers, I will manage.¡±


    Prof nodded. Making the concert even more awesome¡­ ehmm¡­ excellent was taken care of, now they had to tighten security even more. After the authorities, the thugs, and the thieves, it was clear, the not-Guildmaster was trying very hard to make the concert impossible. Luckily, he was mildly incompetent. Why make convoluted plans to arrest the band, close the beer stand or steal documents? Why not just send a few guys with crossbows to shoot everyone in the head? It would be much easier, faster, and more certain. And final.


    On the other hand, this was Ostwaldland, and their enemy wasn''t a supervillain, but a Greenskin, grown up in Greenskinian culture. As far as Prof learned, Greenskins were very big on being excellent to each other, and summarily executing musicians on stage probably wasn''t considered being excellent. Actually, the first try was absolutely lawful, and for the next two, he had to resort to Humans, not Greenskins.


    Prof directed Mini to change into her battle outfit, get her crossbow and assume an overwatch position on the stage, in case, someone did have the idea to start shooting at the band. Binky was left behind the tent, and Sharpclaw¡­ probably hid or sneaked around, since Prof wasn''t able to find her. Bianca and Prof himself were to make rounds around the stage and backstage, just to make it harder for anyone to sneak close. The squad of police was left standing to one side, officially waiting for the band to finish so they could inform Wolfgang, he wasn''t allowed to continue or finish the concert.


    The party was prepared for everything! No evil-doer would be able to sneak close and interrupt the most excellent concert, Akradia ever saw! Prof was absolutely sure, they were prepared as it was humanly possible. Vampirely. Koboldly. Eh. As much as possible.


    They were not, however.


    As soon as the first chords of the second part were played, Prof was approached by a Hobgoblin, dressed in formal clothes and sporting an insincere smile.


    ¡°Good evening, Sir. My name is Siegfried Nierenstein, and I regret to inform you, that I''m with the Thieves'' Not-Guild.¡±

 Chapter 15: The Most Excellent Concert, Part 5

    Thieves¡­ Was he there to rob him blind? Collect taxes? Why introduce himself, then?


    ¡°I was hired to review the concert and your permissions.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t say, you are a lawyer.¡±


    ¡°Unfortunately, yes. I have [Law: Greenskinian] at 380% and a few Perks, just so you are informed. I already have completed my preliminary survey of the environment and I have to say, you are in trouble.¡±


    Prof had to give it to the not-Guildmaster, he was competent after all. Sending lawyers instead of assassins was insidious, purely evil, and would probably accomplish more. What could you do against lawyers? Nothing! Not that it was legal to bash them over the head with an axe, in contrast with assassins. The best one could do was sic another lawyer on him and watch the disgusting, bloody battle unfold.


    Prof glanced to the only lawyer they had available at the moment, but Wilhelm was concentrating on hopping along on the stage and shredding.


    ¡°Oh, young Wilhelm is indeed a good musician. Much better than lawyering. It pains my heart to do this to him, but a job is a job. You know how it is. I will have to apologize to him later.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s good, you want to apologize for probably wrecking the most excellent concert ever.¡± Prof was not sarcastic. Definitely not. That wouldn¡¯t be polite. Or excellent.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad, you understand.¡± Neither was the lawyer sarcastic. ¡°Let¡¯s start, shall we? I have noted, your venue here violates law 13 from the year 3844, paragraph 4, point b. Also, law 666 from the year 3996, paragraph 6, point f. Furthermore, it isn¡¯t confirming to the regulations from law¡­¡± Siegfried continued on and on and on. By the time he finished listing his preliminary findings or rather the laws and regulations they violated, the band finished with two songs.


    All the while, Prof learned a lot of laws they violated, but not how and to what extent. Or what those laws were, to begin with. Was the audience trampling grass? Was someone illegally hugging trees? Vomiting in public? Singing off-tune? Throwing medieval under-panties at performers? Surely, the audience did all that and more. However, for all Prof understood from the list, they could have violated a law against wearing boots, selling dog sausages that were decades past their shelf-life on the premises or not having first aid personnel on hand.


    They probably were doing those too.


    Were those laws even still valid? Or real at all?


    ¡°That would conclude my preliminary findings. At this point, I¡¯m required to offer you choices by the not-Guild¡¯s code. First, you could pay a fine of¡­ let¡¯s see¡­ six Marks and twenty-two Schillinge. I¡¯m a certified tax collector too, you could pay right here. Of course, in this case, I would need to continue my assessment. Your second choice is to bribe me to forget I found anything. The current rate would be three Marks and five Schillinge. That is a gross amount, if you present the receipt to a tax collector at the next collection, you would get a deduction of thirty Schillinge.¡±


    ¡°Let me get it straight. You tell me the going rates for a bribe and give me a receipt for the amount I bribed you with?¡±


    ¡°Of course! We aren¡¯t barbarians! It wouldn¡¯t be excellent to let civilians guess the right amount! What if they tried to overbribe? Also, without a receipt, how would you deduct the bribe from your taxes?¡±


    ¡°But¡­" Prof shut up without finishing his complaint. Different worlds, with different rules, after all. Why would an alien species on a completely different world subscribe to Earth-Human logic? The Greenskinian logic for bribes was actually more excellent than what they did on Earth. If the going rates were known and articulated, everybody would be aware of their right to bribe officials!


    Not, that Greenskinian logic saved him any trouble at the moment. Even if the band and the party pooled all their cash together, they wouldn¡¯t have that kind of money. A tenth, maybe. Probably less.


    ¡°We don''t have that kind of money," Prof confessed


    ¡°We take collaterals too. Although, you would need to make a deposit that is worth fifty percent more. We would need to sell it, after all.¡±


    Prof was shocked. Selling his loot, he worked so hard for, under value for a scam? That was not happening! Not, that he intended to pay anything to begin with. He just needed some way to wiggle out of the situation. Maybe get Mini to intimidate (or seduce) the lawyer. Or Binky to get his newest chew toy.


    ¡°What if we don¡¯t have collaterals?¡±


    ¡°I would need to close the venue immediately. You, of course, would be sent for re-education in the mines. For a year or so, if you work diligently and are willing to better yourself. Teaching, how important it is to get excellent is what the mines do. Not paying what you owe, wouldn''t be excellent, wouldn''t it?"


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    No, it definitely wouldn''t be excellent. Converting big rocks into small rocks didn''t sound like an excellent pastime. He even selected a Perk that lowered his [Mining]! He simply had to wiggle out of parting with his precious loot below the price or breaking rocks for a year!


    But how?


    They only had one lawyer, and in order for him to engage in a bloody battle with the evil threatening to end the concert, they would have to end the concert. Neither could they just run into the city to find a member of the Thieves'' not-Guild for legal advice. The costs for that would be probably on the level of the fine anyways. Neither had they enough money to illegally bribe the lawyer to forget the legal bribe. Prof, however, wasn¡¯t prepared to just kill off someone just doing his more-or-less legal job. Where would that end?


    ¡°Could the discussion wait till the end of the concert?¡±


    ¡°It pains me, but no. Although I truly like this new music, it wouldn¡¯t be excellent to bend to rules to benefit things I like. We have to come to a solution shortly. I would suggest¡­ arggh¡­¡±


    The last exclamation was due to a suspicious Kobold knifing the lawyer in the back and running away. Prof wondered, who that may have been. Such a highly skilled assassin slipping below the Radar¡­ ehmmm¡­ detection magic arrays, just to kill off a probably highly respected member of the Thieves¡¯ not-Guild in such a crucial moment. Oh, the times, oh the manners!


    ¡°Officer!¡± He immediately contacted the authority, standing not far away and nodding furiously to the music ¡°A suspicious person just killed this innocent Hobgoblin here! He ran that way!¡±


    ¡°What species?¡±


    ¡°I think, it was a Kobold.¡±


    ¡°Squad! On the double! Full pursuit! Find that suspicious Kobold! I will stay here to observe the concert and take witness statements!¡± The squad didn¡¯t exactly look happy that they had to abort observing the illegal concert, but nevertheless set out to find the killer. Sharpclaw chose this exact moment to surface from the exact opposite direction, Prof saw the assassin disappear.


    She was looking obviously innocent. Rightly so, it was clearly another Kobold assassin that killed the lawyer who made problems for Prof, the party, and the concert. Not, that Prof could differentiate between one Kobold and another ¨C in fact, Sharpclaw was the only Kobold he have ever seen.


    However, the other Kobold wore clothes, which Sharpclaw did not.


    ¡°Was it this Kobold?¡± the officer asked.


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t think so. The assassin was wearing clothes and hid its face, but I highly doubt, it was Sharpclaw. She just came from the opposite direction.¡±


    ¡°Can you describe this other Kobold? How did it look like?¡±


    ¡°Like a Kobold. Or something that looked like a Kobold, I don¡¯t really know, what other species there are that look like Kobolds.¡±


    ¡°I mean, the color of the scales, special identifiers?"


    ¡°Not that I noticed. Probably light-colored scales. Sorry, it''s dark here."


    ¡°It can¡¯t be helped. Are you sure, it wasn¡¯t your Kobold? Oh, a new song is starting!¡±


    ¡°Reasonably sure, yes. Enjoy the concert, officer.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not enjoying the concert, I observe it carefully.¡±


    ¡°What should we do with the corpse?¡±


    ¡°When the squad is back, I will let them take it to the crematory. You can just leave it here for the time being. I will need to examine it later, anyway.¡±


    Prof nodded. He really hoped the authorities would find the suspicious Kobold ¨C which was definitely not Sharpclaw ¨C and bring it to justice. Civilizations were built on laws and justice, after all. The crime of stabbing a law-abiding lawyer, just doing his work, could not left unpunished!


    ¡°You have blood on your claws, Sharpclaw. Did you cut yourself?" Prof hoped Sharpclaw didn''t injure herself while stabbing the lawyer¡­ khmmm¡­ while doing what she did while sneaking around stealthily, looking for enemies, who were trying to sabotage the concert and looking for a light stabbing.


    ¡°Ssssankssss, Missster. No, Missster.¡± That was good. Getting an infection because of untreated wounds was no joke.


    With the issue resolved, Prof surveyed the audience and the special effects. The latter was even more awesome than during the first part, the mages were getting the hang of the rhythm and the lyrics. They were helped by the apprentice illusionists immensely. Prof found it would be excellent to reimburse him in some ways, at least with a band shirt or something. Did they have Ogre-sized shirts ready?


    The audience, on the other hand, was going absolutely crazy. Now, that they were able to figure out the lyrics from the karaoke illusionist, they were singing a close approximation. Bellow, more likely, and off-rhythm, to be honest, but it was still better than before. Currently, the line, let the corpses hit the field was repeated over and over.


    Prof predicted a bright future for Mythrill if this audience was any indication. Perfect, Wolfgang would be happy.


    If Prof counted correctly, only two or three songs were left when he was approached by Mini.


    ¡°Prof, the fun will start shortly!¡±


    ¡°What do you mean? Isn¡¯t this enough fun for you?¡±


    ¡°A squadron of Goblins on Warhogs are coming.¡±


    Well, obviously it was time for the old not-Guildmaster¡¯s last play.

 Chapter 15: The Most Excellent Concert, Part 6

    Prof climbed up to the stage behind Mini and tried to see, what was happening. A Perception of 11, however, wasn''t enough to make out much due to darkness and distance.


    ¡°I don¡¯t see much, only shapes milling about.¡±


    ¡°Hah! See, this is why I¡¯m such an outstanding person! Exceptionally high Perception and innate Blood Magic! Bath in the radiation of my amazingness!¡±


    ¡°Of course, your Gloriousness! So, what¡¯s happening?¡±


    ¡°The Hog Raiders are having a lively discussion. It looks like half of them want to join the party and the other half¡­ Wants to join the party."


    ¡°So, both halves want to join in the concert? What are they discussing then?¡±


    ¡°How should I know? I can see but not hear them!¡±


    ¡°How do you know then, they are having a discussion?¡±


    ¡°Well, they are hitting each other with fists. What else would you call that? A brawl?¡±


    Obviously, Mini was right. A squadron of mounted Goblins hitting each other with fists simply couldn''t have been a brawl! Such a thing never happened with highly trained professionals outside of a bar. Anyway, Prof already learned, it was no use arguing semantics with Mini. A lively discussion it was.


    ¡°DEAR FANS! THIS WILL BE THE LAST BUT ONE SONG! YOU ALL KNOW IT! DO IT LIKE THIS! CLAP! CLAP! STOMP! YES! DO IT AGAIN!¡± Wolfgang was leading up to a well-known song. Well-known even for Greenskins. Well, they were in for a surprise ¨C the mythrill version!


    The audience''s reaction could have been described only as thunderous. Or deafening, roaring, or even earsplitting. If Prof had a dictionary, he could have listed another few synonyms for very loud and enthusiastic. Which the reaction definitely was.


    CLAP!


    CLAP!


    STOMP!


    CLAP!


    CLAP!


    STOMP!


    The ground was shaking from all those Greenskins STOMPing at the same time. At least the stage was shaking. Prof sincerely hoped the carpenters did an excellent job of erecting it, and it wouldn''t fall apart simply because a few thousand (or was it already tens of thousands?) Greenskins CLAPping and STOMPing. Dying under a poorly constructed stage would be ridiculous and Prof wasn''t interested in going back to the Afterlife Office yet.


    ¡°Oh, the discussion was resolved," Mini informed him. "Here they come!"


    Even Prof could see that. Part of a mounted squadron charging at a few (tens of) thousands of partying folks was hard to miss. Even in darkness.


    ¡°This looks like fun!¡± Mini continued ¡°A quarter of the squadron is now charging at the other riders, who are charging at the folks! Look! The audience is fighting back! Ehmmm¡­ A part of the audience is fighting back, at least. What? Now a part of the audience is attacking the defending part! The original riders just smashed the smaller part! What a fun party! Prof, you are simply the best! Who needs another hero, when we can do a mass brawl on our own? Infantry is closing in! Even they are fighting each other! Let¡¯s go! We should participate too!¡±


    The situation was going to go from bad to utter shit very fast. Prof was absolutely sure, he should not participate in a brawl of epic proportions. This wasn¡¯t ¡°lively discussion¡± territory anymore, and not even a brawl. This was more like a full-grown battle with two¡­ three¡­ ehmm¡­ countless sides.


    ¡°I think, this will go down into the history books as the Battle of Wooden Stock." Wilhelm approached after the band finished the last song.


    ¡°Wooden Stock? Because they are using wooden weapons? I do see the glints of metal, however.¡±


    ¡°No. The racetrack¡¯s name is Wooden Stock. It was a depot for a timber trader a few decades ago. The name just stuck.¡±


    ¡°Uh, I see¡­ But why are they fighting? Sure, the not-Guildmaster wanted to sink this concert, but why is everyone fighting each other?¡±


    ¡°Oh, did he, now?¡± Wolfgang joined the discussion ¡°This is not excellent! This can not stand! That little stain! I knew, I should have hit him over the head with my axe, not just with a common guitar, when I had the chance!¡±


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    ¡°I agree, sabotaging a concert is not excellent¡± Theodor added


    ¡°Making Greenskins fight each other isn''t excellent either," Sandra said


    ¡°Ruined an awesome concert. We should hit him over the head. I will bring my drumsticks" Adeltraut commented helpfully. She was an ogre, only she could call huge clubs drumsticks. Prof shuddered at the thought, what would happen, if she hit someone over the head with them?


    ¡°This is just another example of the self-entitled so-called elite stepping on their impoverished, downtrodden subjects, all under the veneer of equality and justice." Wolfgang shifted his priceless magical relic of an axe and smoothed out his high-quality, extremely valuable clothes. He was right, though. Both the band and the party were unimaginably impoverished after paying for rent, beer, carpenters, shirts, and mugs. All of their cash was gone! Only jewelry and gems, worth a few million in Earth currency remained! They were so downtrodden, they couldn''t even bribe the minion of the evil overlord of music to look the other way! If not for a mysterious and completely never seen before Kobold, they would be breaking stones in a mine already!


    ¡°I think, it¡¯s time to be a szent.¡± Bianca approached from the back.


    ¡°A szent? What does that mean?¡±


    ¡°You know, disappear in the middle of a battle, and surface years later at a place very far from your previous brigadier?"


    ¡°Yes, let¡¯s do that.¡±


    ¡°But, but, but¡­ I wanted to participate in the party! It looks like so much fun!¡±


    ¡°Ah, Mini, but how would we be able to escape without you protecting us? A powerful Vampire like you would sweep any danger aside just by their courageous presence!"


    ¡°Prof, you do know, that I¡¯m not stupid, right? Put some points into your [Convincing] and [Flattery] and try again later.¡±


    ¡°[Flattery] isn¡¯t a Skill.¡±


    ¡°Sure it is. Just like [Romance], [Hysterical Tantrum], and [Whining]. You are actually quite good in the latter."


    ¡°No, I''m not! What System would include such Skills, to begin with?! That would be totally unfair and ridiculous! Anyways, someone would have told me already, if those Skills existed and I was whiner! Hey, Bianca! Are you all right? Are you choking?"


    ¡°Brhhhh...haha... No, I¡¯m all right. So, let¡¯s move out.¡±


    The short interaction was good for one thing, though: Mini forgot, she wanted to enter the melee in front of the stage and was willing to accompany the others back to Saugarten. Prof thought for a few seconds about checking his Character Parchment, just to prove, Mini was wrong, and no such ridiculous Skills as [Whining] existed. There were a basically endless number of Skills, and everyone had every last one, but he was sure, the mentioned ones did not exist.


    Almost sure.


    He resisted checking in the end. Some things should never be known.


    They weren¡¯t the only ones on the road back to the city. Hundreds were streaming back, and Prof was satisfied to note, quite a few were wearing the band shirt. Others were loudly singing one song or the other. Unfortunately, most did not have any Points in [Art: Singing], and even those who had, were¡­ mildly poisoned by fermented greenery. Of course, no two people tried to sing the same song, and the lyrics were off too. The performance was slightly disturbing to the ears.


    At least they were singing. That meant, they enjoyed the concert and liked the new kind of music. That was Wolfgang¡¯s aim after all. With that, Prof completed his legendary (and largely imaginary) quest. It was time for the next Level Up!


    Every minute now.


    The red exclamation mark failed to appear, however.


    What did appear, were two bands of musicians on the side of the road, one playing Clay, the other Mythrill. Neither was very good, but they made up for the lack of talent (and Skill) with an overabundance of enthusiasm and a lot of shouting.


    ¡°Your music isn¡¯t excellent! Only Clay is excellent!¡±


    ¡°Clay is for Elves! Go, hug a tree, Treesqueezer!¡±


    ¡°Hah! Your papa was a Gremlin!¡±


    ¡°Mythrill is disgusting! Un-excellent trash!¡±


    ¡°No one is listening to Clay, it¡¯s over, you bald idiot!¡±


    ¡°You are bald! I¡¯ll stomp you!¡±


    Why would two specimens of a chronically bald species call each other bald and be offended? Were they compensating for something? At least Prof understood the insult with the Elves. They were regarded as decadent, soft, self-centered, perverted, and snobbish twats by the Greenskins. From his time in the Domain, Prof could agree with most stereotypes, but not with Elves being soft. Despite running around naked all the time and fleecing outsiders, they were anything but soft. More like hard as steel and tense as an overstrung spring, always ready to snap and kick some teeth.


    The two bands exchanged a few other insults and finally decided to settle the argument in the most excellent way possible: hitting each other over the head with their instruments. Prof figured the band left standing was the most excellent with their instruments. A way to decide, which music was better.


    By the time the intense discussion disappeared behind a bend in the road, it looked like the mythrill-guys were winning.


    They were almost at the city limits ¨C Greenskin towns didn''t have walls for some strange reason ¨C when they noticed a Hobgoblin running their way. When he came closer, Prof recognized him as one of the bodyguards of the mages. How he got back to the city this fast, Prof did not know.


    ¡°Honoured Redcap! Honored Redcap! Honored Band! Honored Stage Manager! You have to flee!"


    ¡°WHAT?!?¡±

 Chapter 16: Never Sewer The Party, Part 1

    ¡°Flee? Why?¡± Wolfgang looked surprised ¡°We just brought back the ancient music!¡±


    ¡°This is exactly why.¡± The Hobgoblin answered ¡°It¡¯s pure chaos in the city. Fellow Greenskins came back from the concert early, and told everyone, how excellent the new music was. Then the pre-bands arrived, and started playing Mythrill everywhere! The not-Guildmaster tried to suppress the playing and send the bands to the mines for re-education, but half of the officers resisted in the face of how awesome¡­ ehmmm¡­ excellent the music was. That was when the fighting started. He then sent the army in, which for a part sided with the mythrillheads too."


    ¡°Mythrillheads? But that is the band''s name! Why do they call themselves such?"


    ¡°Probably because they are followers of the most excellent band there is, playing the most excellent music ever!¡± Mini learned the Greenskinian terms very fast ¡°Can I be a mythrillhead too? Mythrill is the best!¡±


    Mythrillhead wasn¡¯t a term, Prof would have applied to her. Crazyhead, airhead, feeding-on-other¡¯s-blood-head, yes. Mythrillhead? No.


    ¡°The Musician¡¯s not-Guild is in uproar. Most of the Clay players sided with the old Goblin, along with the more conservative Granite bands. The rest of the Granites are in another faction, saying, mythrill isn''t excellent, but the not-Guildmaster wasn¡¯t excellent in this case either, and should be sent for re-education. Mythrill should get a chance. Everyone is fighting everyone else! We heard, there was a not-Guild bounty on your heads. The three leaders are discussing making the bounty state official too."


    That was bad. A civil war caused by an innocent concert, and the Evil Overlord of Clay putting a bounty on the party¡¯s head? Just because they knew the band and helped Wolfgang just a tiny bit? They had to flee?!? How would Prof be able to sell the gems? They were broke. Again.


    While Prof kept most of their valuables secure in his Girly Backpack of Holding, there was a lot of gear and stuff left at their lodgings. He wasn¡¯t prepared to leave anything back, especially since they had no ready cash to replace anything. The gems were too valuable to just blow them on random gear. Most likely with an abysmal exchange rate.


    ¡°The jewelry! We have still more than two hundred marks worth of jewelry in the store! We need to get them back!¡±


    ¡°Forget to jewelry, Prof." Wolfgang said with a smirk "The jeweler is a Greenskin and so excellent to the customers. Even if you went back there in a hundred years, the money or the pieces would be returned to you or your next of kin. You won''t be able to get the baubles back in the middle of the night during a riot anyways."


    ¡°All right.¡± Prof assumed a leadership position ¡°We still need to get back to our lodgings, we have stuff there. Wolfgang, girls, do you need to go home too?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I have important sheets and documents at home and a few heirlooms I don''t want to leave behind," Wolfgang said. Wilhelm, Theodor, and Adeltraut shook their heads.


    ¡°We are good. Everything we need is right here.¡±


    ¡°I don''t want to leave Saugarten," Sandra said "More likely, I can''t leave. I have to take care of my family first."


    The three pleasure providers sided with her, too.


    ¡°We have a job and contracts. It wouldn¡¯t be excellent to quit and leave. Not even for mythrill.¡±


    Prof brought up his Mental Map to check where they were and where they needed to go. In the last month, he was able to map Saugarten to a sufficient level, with the band member''s homes highlighted. Luckily, Sandra wasn''t living far from the brothel, where their background¡­ decorations had to be dropped. Prof didn''t even contemplate sending four girls into a riot without an escort. Even so, they were left with three different places to get to, and each was far from the others. Getting to every place after each other in the middle of a riot looked impossible.


    ¡°We will need to split the party.¡± Prof came to the obvious solution. ¡°One group will escort the¡­ escort girls back to their base of operations, the second will raid our compound and the third will liberate Wolfgang¡¯s palace.¡±


    The way Prof formulated the tasks was much more exciting than ¡°visit a brothel¡±, ¡°get our stuff¡± and ¡°get to Wolfgang¡¯s flat¡±. At least he hoped so. Seeing the reactions, he failed. At least partly.


    ¡°I will visit the brothel¡­ I mean¡­ escort these poor girls to their base of operations! I won''t be able to live with myself if they came to harm!" Mini was selfless as usual. Or she just wanted to have a bit of fun before leaving the city. Either way¡­


    ¡°Good. At least do it in battle gear, not the stage clothes. Are you able to do it on your own? I would like to send Binky with the task force for the compound. Would he follow directions from others than you?¡±


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    ¡°Yeah, I can do it without Binky. I¡¯m awesome like that! Hey, can I riot a bit on the way back? Plundering, raping, setting fire to stuff, you know?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡±


    ¡°Forget it.¡±


    ¡°Aggravating the already dire situation would just play into the hand of the masterminds behind this uprising.¡±


    ¡°Do you mean us?¡±


    ¡°No, the not-Guildmaster!¡±


    ¡°Spoilsports.¡±


    ¡°All right. It is obvious, Wolfgang is on the team to liberate the palace¡­¡±


    ¡°Stop with that, it¡¯s not funny.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, don¡¯t try to look like a mercenary commander.¡±


    ¡°I think it¡¯s fine. It¡¯s better than him whining.¡±


    Everyone was a critic nowadays. At least Mini had the Perk for that¡­


    ¡°All right, all right. So, Wolfgang is going to his flat, are you three good in a fight?" Prof asked the three band members. Seeing them shaking their heads, Prof sighted. "The non-combatants should stay outside the city, then. Bianca, Sharpclaw, are you all right with taking Binky to our inn and getting our stuff? I will go with Wolfgang then. Will you be able to navigate the city?"


    ¡°Yes, of course. It isn''t that big. Where we should meet up afterward?" Bianca asked. It was a good question. If the authorities wanted to arrest them, it was likely, they would erect roadblocks or checkpoints on the city limits. If the party wanted to flee to another city or country, they would have to pass the checkpoints ¨C the authorities would have to guess, where the party wanted to go. Their guess was as good as Prof''s since he had no idea whatsoever, where to go. Not to the East, towards the Valley, that was sure.


    The safest idea was thus to meet up in the East, that was the least likely direction to go. On the other hand, if the authorities followed the same logic, the East would be the most likely direction, sporting the strongest checkpoint. Following that logic further, the party wouldn¡¯t go East, so a strong roadblock there wouldn¡¯t make sense, which would lead the party to travel East.


    That was true for every other direction too, unfortunately.


    ¡°We meet up in the East. A few minutes outside the city limits, there was this monument. You can''t miss it." It was no use in overcomplicating and overthinking things. If there was a checkpoint there, they will figure out things.


    That whole train of thought of course assumed, that the medieval authorities had enough manpower ¨C or whatever the politically correct designation for it was ¨C in the middle of a city-wide riot to send a few squad wagons to every exit with hog-mounted guards roaming the gaps.


    The question remained, however, how to sneak into the city in the first place. Just openly walking up to the destinations probably wasn¡¯t a good idea. While Prof deliberated the best way ¨C using [Stealth], going over the roofs, flying or teleporting in, or any commonly used method ¨C the other teams left, leaving only him and Wolfgang behind.


    ¡°What are we waiting for?¡± the Orc finally asked


    ¡°I¡¯m thinking about the best way to enter the city and get to your flat. It has to be inconspicuous, secret, avoiding the people on the streets and the streets itself as far as possible.¡±


    ¡°Use the sewers. That¡¯s the only choice that fits your criteria.¡±


    ¡°Saugarten has sewers?" Prof hasn''t realized it. Well, most people don''t think about where their wastewater went after flushing the toilet. As long as said water wasn''t fountaining up in other parts of their home, at least. Who cared, if it went into the canalization, a cesspit, or the neighbor''s home? The existence of sewers was mostly unknown and unnoticed, the absence of proper wastewater collection was a noticeable thing. Mostly for the folks living downstream from you.


    ¡°Of course we have sewers! What do you think we do with all the water coming from indoor plumbing? Just pour it out into the streets? We aren''t dirt-dwelling dogs, who wallow in their own shit! Not even the most mis-bred lap swine would do that! We aren''t Pinkskins! No offense."


    ¡°None taken." well, Wolfgang was right, most medieval societies on Earth didn''t bother with collecting wastewater, and just emptied the chamber pots out of the windows. They didn''t bother with washing themselves overly much, so the amount of wastewater to dispose of didn''t justify the costs to dig and maintain subterranean structures.


    ¡°Say, what do you do with the collected wastewater?"


    ¡°We just dump it into catchment basins, and use it to fertilize the fields. Same with our dead."


    ¡°You dump corpses into the fields?!?¡±


    ¡°Of course not! Dumping corpses wouldn''t be excellent. We cremate the dead, the family gets a plaque, and the ashes are scattered on the fields." Well, everyone had different customs about what to do with the dead. Some built huge stone structures, others just dumped them into holes, while others saved them to be raised in times of need. Scattering ashes to improve arable lands was just one possibility.


    ¡°All right. Do you know, where we could enter the sewers?¡±


    ¡°Let''s see. Usually, there are signs pointing to the nearest service entrance. If I remember correctly, there were signs at the crossroads up ahead. We should check it."


    Putting up signs pointing to service entrances was a Greenskin thing to do. If there were no signs, the maintenance crew would have to search for the entrance, and that wouldn¡¯t be excellent. Or something like that. Maybe some relative of the leadership had a company, that produced signs, and the state supported independent contractors by buying otherwise unnecessary signs from him.


    Absolutely legit.


    Wolfgang was right in the end, there was a sign pointing to the sewers. This way it was indeed easier than to search for a hidden, secret entrance for hours or ask some low-life to point in the right direction. The greenskins were excellent this way.

 Chapter 16: Never Sewer The Party, Part 2

    What does a service entrance for the sewers of a medieval city look like? Rusty iron gates, half submerged in Human waste, fully caked in said waste from the times when an unusual amount of water was flushed down. The whole installation stinking to the high heavens.


    What does the entrance look like in medieval Greenskins lands? The same, without rust, waste, and stink but housed in a bunker-like structure, decorated with useless tympanums and colorful flowers, probably with signs and charts affixed to the door. Asking to wipe your feet before entering and don''t use open flames.


    Or so Prof thought.


    He was wrong.


    Even Greenskins weren''t so excellent to plant flowers and signs next to a sewer entrance. Neither have they built a full-blown bunker above it ¨C it was, after all, a sewer entrance and not the Atlantic Wall. But then again, if you were into bunkers, and built ones above wells, why not for sewers?


    The structure Prof and Wolfgang faced was a small shed with a simple wooden door. Which coincidentally sported a heavy chain and padlock. Was their plan failing even before it truly began? Were they defeated by a rickety door with a chain and lock?


    ¡°There is no key anywhere to be seen¡± Wolfgang checked the door and even a conveniently placed dying potted plant ¡°I don¡¯t think, we have a high enough [Lockpicking] to pick the lock. Or any lockpicks in the first place.¡±


    ¡°Hah! Who needs [Lockpicking] or lockpicks, when you have a thousand points in kick-a-door-in? Step aside!¡±


    ¡°You do know, there is no such Skill as kick-a-door-in?¡±


    ¡°Who knows? There are a lot of idiotic other Skills too. Anyway, I have 14 in Strength, that should be enough." Prof aimed a powerful kick at the door, hoping, it would disintegrate in the face of his overwhelming might. He had no such luck.


    ¡°Ah, I see!¡± Wolfgang deadpanned. ¡°This is the might of placing Skill Points worth dozens of Levels into kick-a-door-in. A truly magnificent sight! Or was it the unprecedented power of Strength 14? Could you repeat your feat? I would like to make notes so I can make recommendations to all of Greenskinkind.¡±


    That was sooo funny! Prof had to reign his urge to laugh uncontrollably. In the end, he managed it. Barely.


    No, not really. He was rather fuming and angry at the Evil Door of Denying Access. He tried again ¨C this time not delivering a strong kick, but took a few steps back to collect momentum, and rammed the door with all his around hundred kilograms of anger at speed.


    ¡°You know, you could make a career out of this. Running against hard surfaces, bouncing back, and making a funny expression. I think, there are people, who would pay money to see this."


    Wolfgang was indeed a Wiseass. Almost Cruel. Strangely, this facet of his personality wasn¡¯t so obvious previously. Maybe he was dealing with mortal danger in this way?


    However, Prof wasn¡¯t prepared to be defeated by a simple door, no matter how hard it tried to deny access to the first sewers he heard of on Arkadia. Unfortunately for the door, Prof possessed the natural predators of anything wooden.


    No, not termites. Axes.


    Just a few hits later, the door lay defeated on the floor, breathing its last breaths. Assuming, it had lungs, which it did not. Most likely, but Prof wasn''t exactly well versed in the anatomy of doors. Be as it may, the way was now clear. Inside the shack, there were a few shelves with different tools and about a dozen shovels leaning against the walls. In the middle of it, there was a manhole, covered by a hinged trap door.


    Fortunately, it wasn¡¯t locked.


    Beneath the trap door, a wooden ladder lead into the darkness, which was bad. Although Prof invested in a few different lamps and lanterns, some he even could affix to his helmet so both his hands would be free, all of them were safely tucked away in his room. He simply hadn''t expected to need them at the concert or on the way back to the city. He would have to remedy that oversight later. Even if he went to get groceries, he would lug around the whole expeditionary gear. Who knows, when the next riot, zombie apocalypse, or armageddon would surprise him again while doing absolutely mundane things?


    Maybe he should invest in some kind of inflatable raft too?


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    As it was, the sewers were dark, and they did not have any sources of light with them.


    Fortunately, however, Prof was a semi-professional looter and scavenger, and he was able to find a few candles well hidden in plain sight on the shelves. Truly, without his Skill and Perk, he wouldn''t be able to accomplish such a feat! On the other hand, it was quite likely, that someone with a very low [Looting] indeed wouldn''t have picked up the candles. It was a Skill, after all, describing exactly what someone could do. The numbers were the objective measurement of the knowledge someone possessed. Nothing more, nothing less.


    Prof wondered for a moment if someone with a lower Skill wouldn''t even notice stuff lying around, or just leave it there because of "reasons"?


    Climbing down the ladder, Prof was surprised by the sewers. For some reason, he expected cavernous passages, caked with refuse, and a river of wastewater flowing in the middle. Maybe hordes of rats and other muck-dwelling creatures. Not that he really ever saw sewers in his past life in person, the closest he came to wastewater drainage was as a kid when his street got canalization ¨C and even those pipes were less than one meter in diameter. If he remembered correctly.


    The reality of Greenskin sewers was nothing like his expectations. First, it was barely one and a half meters in diameter, forcing both Prof and Wolfgang to bend over ¨C even so, Prof knocked his head into the roof every time he moved. Since Saugarten had less, than ninety thousand inhabitants, a larger diameter was probably not necessary. Secondly, the walls were surprisingly clean. Cleanish. Cleaner than one would expect from a subterranean drain, built to convey excrement and dirty¡­ liquids. The whole installation had a well-maintained feel.


    Not counting the ankle-deep sludge flowing along lazily. There was no gangway on either side. Prof was grateful, he changed out of his Blue Suede Shoes of Getting Laid into his normal combat boots, but even so, he missed having rubber boots. Preferably reaching up to his hips. Cleaning his boots would be a chore. Wolfgang was even less lucky, his snakeskin boots would most likely be ruined after their trek.


    Prof brought up his Mental Map, checking, if the above-ground map, which he filled up nicely in the last month, would translate to the subterranean structures. It did, more or less. While the sewers did not show up ¨C after all, he hadn''t explored them ¨C the map did show his location, projecting it onto ground level. Prof didn''t expect huge problems in navigating to Wolfgang''s place, Saugarten was laid out in an easy-to-follow way. Most likely the sewers followed the main roads too.


    That meant they would need to travel about three kilometers in a straight line, and then find a side tunnel to the left, travel another few hundred meters, and take a right. If they made good time, Prof calculated less than an hour wading through sewer fluids. Almost an hour! Not counting another hour to get out of the city! Most likely he would need to throw out all his gear; he doubted, it would be possible to get rid of the stench and the filth. What a waste! It was almost new and definitely expensive! The party was as good as broke as it was. Broke, not counting the gems, they couldn''t find a buyer for¡­


    Was it possible for someone with high [Washing] to save the stuff? What would that cost?


    While Prof reflected on the shitty situation he found himself in (again), they indeed made good time. Accompanied by a clinging sound every few steps, when Prof banged his helmet against the sewer¡¯s roof and a few grunts, when Wolfgang did the same, but without any cowering for his head. What Prof noticed was the complete absence of any blockades or accumulated islands of crap. That was strange. If he remembered the news correctly, a few huge cities had to call in the army to destroy extensive blockages.


    ¡°Say, Wolfgang. How comes the sewers are so clean and maintained? I would expect walls covered in filth, rats, and barely passable sections."


    ¡°It is thanks to the Re-Education Brigades. They aren''t just sent to the mines, but to the sewers too. Hard work brings out excellence. Without being excellent, you aren''t a true Greenskin! Maintaining the sewers in a pristine condition helps you get over not being excellent."


    At least the Greenskins invented an ideology for the acquisition of a free workforce. How excellent the whole species was, and how much energy they expended to become excellent, the ideology probably worked. If for nothing else, for people being afraid to break rocks or clean the sewers for no payment.


    In the end, it took them almost two hours to reach Wolfgang¡¯s home. The delay was mostly because of the awkward position they had to walk ¨C the sewers were built with the understanding, that Goblins would be the ones to clean and maintain it ¨C and also, because they got slightly lost. No, not exactly lost, since with Prof¡¯s high [Navigation] and his Perks he knew literally exactly, where they were. If you know exactly where you are, and where other places are in relation to you, you can¡¯t be lost. Right?


    The problem was to find the right sewer to get from one exactly known point to another exactly known position. As they found out, the sewers weren''t exactly conforming to the city grid, and in some places ¨C accidentally in the exact places, where they had to make turns ¨C the tunnel''s size decreased to just a crawling place. Or were walled up. Since neither of them found the idea of crawling through other people''s wastewater excellent, they had to make a few detours.


    Even so, they had to exit the sewers a corner away from Wolfgang¡¯s flat.


    It was almost midnight by this time, but the party was still ongoing. Happy campfires burning, Greenskins dancing with each other while singing songs. Actually, the campfires were made out of barricades erected from unlucky stalls and "borrowed" furniture. There were a few odd houses on fire too, but those were in the minority, almost concrete wasn''t flammable. The dancing was made with weapons in hand. The singing, though, was real. "Riot music" took on a new meaning with different lone singers and bands playing a selection of Clay, Granite, and Mythrill. To judge from the volume, the mythrillheads were winning ¨C they were louder than everyone and everything else.


    Why the Greenskins did everything with musical support, Prof couldn''t understand. Rioting with free and loud music at least looked like more fun than doing it in silence. He hoped, Mini could reign herself in and wasn''t participating somewhere. That could lead to problems down the line.


    More problems than playing a part in causing a riot, anyway.

 Chapter 16: Never Sewer The Party, Part 3

    Collecting Wolfgang''s stuff ¨C mostly manuscripts and a few musical instruments ¨C was done in only a few minutes. Now, they only had to leave the city unnoticed. It was time to re-enter the sewers. If only there was another way to escape! Like just walking out. However, it was a well-known fact, that for an escape you either went through the sewers or participated in an awesome car chase.


    Unfortunately, Prof was freshly out of cars, and it didn''t look like getting horses or other riding animals would be easy. No chance to be road-mobile. Not, that his [Riding] was high enough for a high-speed chase. It was strange. He had 70% in the Skill, but for as long as he was on Arkadia, he have never ridden any animal. It could be said, his knowledge was purely theoretical. Even so, he was certain, how to sit on a horse, how to steer it, how to apply the brakes, and every other thing one had to do to a horse for it to move in the approximately right direction around the desired speed.


    Weird.


    Back on the streets, the riot was still ongoing. If anything, it was gaining speed and noise. More and more bands and lone bards were playing their favorite music, whipping their fans into a fury. With a few of the musicians also using magic ¨C sound and music ¨C the aim was clear to Prof: outplay the competition, and buff their own fans. The side with the loudest music and the best sound- and music mages would be able to support the frontline the most and would win the battle of the bands.


    Probably.


    Prof didn''t exactly understand, what the problem was in the first place. Music was music. Bashing each other''s heads in just because they liked a different kind of music was not "excellent" in his books. If it was about politics, he may have understood it, after all, every party in history thought, the other parties were of the devil''s making, and the adherents should be burned at the stakes.


    But music?


    Prof shook his head and helped Wolfgang lower the retrieved gear into the sewers. He was a foreigner, after all, what the locals did should not concern him.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry for all those merchants and home-owners, though¡­¡± he told Wolfgang


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Their stalls and furniture were destroyed for the barricades. Probably their merchandise too.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you misunderstand. No one would destroy other people''s stuff. That wouldn''t be excellent! The wood was either volunteered by the owners, or they are participating themselves. Where would it lead, if we just set fire to uninvolved people''s stuff?!? That would be just an expression of wanton destruction with complete disregard for others'' property! Banditism! Anarchism! Criminalism!"


    ¡°And it wouldn¡¯t be excellent.¡±


    ¡°Exactly!¡±


    So, the Greenskins were extremely polite and excellent to each other even during a riot. Good for them.


    ¡°So, no plundering, pillaging, and arson even in times of war?"


    ¡°You know, that is a tricky question. Civilians usually don¡¯t have anything to fear from a Greenskin army, as long as they don¡¯t resist. We only acquire the means of the enemy state or nobles. Assuming, we are not talking about those Elves.¡±


    Oh, yes, Greenskins and Elves weren''t on good terms. Prof could understand the Elves, they thought of themselves as the supreme species after all, but what the Greenskins had against them ¨C besides not agreeing, that the Elves were a supreme species ¨C he didn''t know. Probably something like the Elves'' unwillingness to forgo wearing red or calling some ancient ruler''s Warhog a common swine. It had to be some extremely important thing like that.


    Not long after re-entering the sewers, they came upon a huge cavern, with larger tunnels going in the four cardinal directions on the bottom, and a large number of smaller drains entering higher up. The smaller drains deposited "fluids" into the collection point which was the cavern, while the larger tunnels drained it away. The cavern''s bottom was flooded by¡­ "water"¡­, but it was too¡­ "opaque"¡­ to gauge its depth. Having only candles to illuminate didn''t help much either.


    For some strange reason, Prof expected an altar to a blood god or the base of a secret cabal of evil-doers to be located in the cavern ¨C most likely without the sludge at the bottom. What better place for a hideout (clean and cozy) for gangs, sects, and cults than the collection area for the sewers? Not counting the Re-Education Brigades, probably no one ever came down here, after all!


    His expectations weren¡¯t met, however. What greeted them wasn¡¯t the goat-headed leader of a cult or a thief (those had a very nice headquarters above ground), but darkness and stench. A stench so thick, it could be called solid. Prof even felt some resistance as he stepped forward. It may have been the sludge on the ground, though.


    Since the sewers ¨C and that included the cavern too ¨C were well-maintained, it was obvious, the cleaning brigades would need means to cross the subterranean lake of questionable fluids. In this case, the means consisted of bridges, set in a cross pattern, meeting in the middle. At least they wouldn''t need to swim. That would spell the end of everything they wore ¨C not even the undisputed Supreme Grandmaster of [Washing] would be able to salvage the soiled gear.


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    It would have been marginally funny if Prof or Wolfgang lost their footing and took a dive in the lake of sewer, but an Agility (or was it Dexterity?) of 18 and 15 was obviously high enough to navigate a meter-wide, dry bridge. They didn''t even have to concentrate all that hard. How surprising. The other thing that did not happen, even if was somewhat expected, was a fabled random encounter. No horrible sewer monster surfaced from the muck to harass them with tentacles, eat them alive or drag them under.


    After all, no self-respecting city, even a medieval one, would tolerate sewer monsters in their well-maintained sewers with easy access to the surface. At least for long. Residents eaten alive by random monsters inside the city were bad for business. Probably.


    Or inconvenient at least.


    After navigating the cavern, it still took them more than an hour to exit the city proper. Without Prof¡¯s Mental Map, they probably would have continued until the end of the sewers. It was nice to know, where they were in relation to everything else. Even underground. What an ultimate Cheat Power!


    The only thing Prof now needed was a RADAR feature for the map. With an IFF add-on. And high-resolution real-time mapping of the whole continent. Plus floating tags with names and Levels of everything in the visual range.


    He wasn¡¯t greedy. Not at all! If he remembered correctly, those Perks had only a sum cost of barely fifty points!


    Not, that he could buy new Perks after he finalized his new self. Every new Perk was a ¡°gift¡± from the Administrator ¨C or the System, but he assumed, the latter was directed by the former. As gifts, he probably would get a new pair of socks or some marginally useful gadget, not what he really wanted or needed. Gifts had that bad habit, after all.


    Finding the monument, that was set as the meeting place, was almost trivial. The maintenance exit was only a few hundred meters from it, even without the map, only someone with less than 20% or so in [Navigation] could miss it. Well, since it was actually visible from the exit, the person in question would have needed a very low Perception to miss it, to begin with. Even in the dark.


    Luckily, Prof was very good in [Navigation] and had a slightly above-average Perception. When the average was ten, eleven counted as above average, no? That the Greenskins were excellent enough to plant a few torches around the monument dispersed every last point of doubt, where they had to go.


    Naturally, the rest of the band was already there, sitting on the ground and quietly playing a song. If Prof was not mistaken, it was a Waiting Song ¨C Greenskins had songs and music for every conceivable occasion, so why not for waiting? Prof once wondered, if Greenskins did everything with background music, how would Papa Greenskin and Mama Greenskin accomplish it, when they wanted to have a good time? He decided he didn''t really want to know.


    Surprisingly, the strike team around Bianca was there too.


    ¡°Hey, Bianca! How comes, you are already here? I would think, skulking through the city and packing would take more time.¡±


    ¡°Ewww, Prof, you stink! Did you take a bath in a cesspit or what?!?¡± Bianca was grimacing.


    ¡°Yeah, almost. So, you did a good time?"


    ¡°Yeah, at first we were trying to be stealthy, but, well Binky doesn¡¯t do stealth well. At one of the barricades, a very nice Hobgoblin told us to just go in the open, no one would bother tourists and folks, who don¡¯t participate in the riot. It was true! There were even street vendors selling food and drinks to every side and the onlookers!¡±


    ¡°WHAT?!?¡±


    ¡°Of course, there would be onlookers and street vendors, my friend!¡± Wolfgang clarified ¡°How else would the general populace know, who won? How would they build an opinion about the arguments presented?¡±


    ¡°And the street vendors?¡±


    ¡°I assume, rioting is hard work. It wouldn''t be excellent if you would go hungry or thirsty and had to go home for nourishment. That would probably put an end to a riot, without a clear conclusion. Leaving the onlookers without nourishment would be even less excellent."


    ¡°You do riots that often? The system looks to run quite smoothly.¡±


    ¡°Riots? No, never. We do have a system in place though for disagreements. The craftspeople in question would agree to a time and place where they present their point of view. Even friends and family could participate.¡±


    ¡°A brawl?¡±


    ¡°No! Both sides craft something, while the other side¡¯s friends and family try to hinder him. Who finishes a better piece and could present it to the onlookers win.¡±


    It was more or less a brawl with an added task, after all. Prof refrained to comment on other people¡¯s strange traditions.


    ¡°So, you went to the inn without problems? Could you get everything?¡± he asked Bianca


    ¡°Yeah, we didn''t encounter any problems. A few people even volunteered to look after Binky while we were packing. I think they ended up feeding him Gremlins in the end, though. At least, he was munching on something, when we got back. As for the gear¡­ Well, we got the towels and the soap, as you told us, but we had to leave the camping gear behind¡­"


    ¡°The camping gear? Even the tent? WHY?!? We just bought all that crap! It wasn¡¯t even used once!¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ It was heavy, and we couldn¡¯t pack all the stuff onto Binky. Your books took up most of the place. If you remember, we told you, we would need a few mules to move everything!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I remember. But mules cost money to buy and even more money to stable them. We didn¡¯t plan to leave in a hurry!¡±


    ¡°Anyways, Prof, Mister Wolfgang. As I told you, we got the towels and the soap. Please use them! You still stink!¡±

 Chapter 16: Never Sewer The Party, Part 4

    Fortunately, there was a conveniently placed well behind the monument, so the two sewer-dweller could wash up quickly. Unfortunately, they couldn''t do much with their clothes, and neither of them were very good at [Washing]. They were missing crucial equipment too. Like that thingy, medieval people used to wash clothes. Or the other thingy that was used to get water out of washed clothes. Or the third thingy that was used to dry de-watered clothes.


    Well, they had the last one, it¡¯s called a rope, and every adventurer has some of it in their packs.


    Even if Prof technically wasn¡¯t an adventurer, he had some.


    When Prof hung his clothes up to dry, he realized, he needed someone with a high [Washing] Skill. His underpants became pink somehow ¨C and he was absolutely certain, he did not wash them with anything that was pink or red. Actually, he didn''t even have stuff that was those colors!


    Joining the others ¨C being marginally less stinky ¨C he started to wonder.


    ¡°If Bianca¡¯s team managed to navigate the city without problems, why did we need to crawl through the sewers?¡±


    ¡°I don''t know. I assumed you were keen on visiting the architectural wonder that is Saugarten''s sewers. I''m told, Humans don''t have canalization."


    ¡°But¡­ But¡­ But¡­ You told me, the canalization is the best way!"


    ¡°No, I told you, the canalization is the only thing, that fits your criteria for traveling."


    ¡°Hey, those criteria were made because of the riot that was happening in the city! If I knew, there wouldn¡¯t be problems, I wouldn¡¯t have made them up! Why didn¡¯t you say something?¡±


    ¡°It looked like you had fun making them up. It isn¡¯t excellent to destroy someone else¡¯s fun. Well, as long as said fun doesn¡¯t impair someone else.¡±


    Greenskins¡­ Imagine a culture, where everyone would be willing to wade through stinking sewers just because they thought, their friend was having fun and wanted to see one of Arkadia''s seven wonders, that is Saugarten''s sewers.


    Oh, wait.


    Crazy, isn¡¯t it?


    Speaking of the Seven Wonders¡­ Prof was reasonably sure, Saugarten''s sewer wasn''t included in the list. He did see a few booklets about different numbers of wonders on Arkadia or Fenria but postponed buying any of them. His expenses for other books (that included rulebooks) precluded the investment.


    ¡°Hey, if navigating the riotous city is so easy, how comes Mini isn¡¯t back yet?¡± He asked Bianca


    ¡°Prof, you do realize, you sent Miss Minerva through a riotous city to a brothel?¡±


    ¡°Ahm¡­ Yes?¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t it answer your question?¡±


    ¡°Oh, look! A monument!" There probably was a Skill for changing topics on the fly. Prof just wasn''t good at it. It was the first time, he actually took a look at the monument, and he was sorely disappointed. He expected some hero (with a lowercase h) in a heroic pose, or at least a crafter doing crafter things, or something. What he got was a downward pointing arrow with an ornate "E" (well, the Greenskinian version on an E) on top. It was modern art!


    ¡°Say, Wolfgang. What is this supposed to represent? A monument to some mining accident, or the direction where the economy is going?¡±


    ¡°No. The monument is the Eastern Meeting Place.¡±


    ¡°Commemorating a failed expedition, a heroic campaign, or a station where someone important did something important?"


    ¡°No. You know, people are going to places sometimes and join other people, going in the same direction. Or you expect a delivery, but the messenger doesn''t want to enter the city. Or some random refugees need a place they could link up while fleeing the city. To make things easier for them, we invented this excellent thing, called Meeting Places. You go there and don''t need to search for your teammates or cross the entire city multiple times. This here is the eastern one."


    ¡°I do know, what a meeting place is. But why don¡¯t you put up a statute of, say, a random blacksmith, or a coach, or whatever? It would look better than a simple arrow.¡±


    ¡°Because then it would be a monument to a random blacksmith or whatever, and not of a meeting place! It is much easier to say ''at the Eastern Meeting Point'' than ''at the statue of the random blacksmith at the eastern city limits''. Everyone knows, what a monument to a meeting place looks like, you would need to give directions to random statues of random people!"


    Alien logics. Don''t go there. Don''t ask about the logic behind it. Swim with the flow.


    It was well past dawn when Mini deigned to finally show up. She was riding an enormous black horse ¨C if we extend the definition of "horse" beyond every possible limit. Usually, the definition doesn''t include sharp teeth, built to rend flesh, claws instead of hooves, and black puffs of¡­ blackness being emitted each time the hooves¡­ claws made contact with the ground. Or red eyes, that left afterimages behind after every movement.


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    ¡°Hey, Prof! I brought you a gift! See?¡±


    ¡°Mini, whose horse is this?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a Nightmare, Prof.¡±


    ¡°Ok, whose Nightmare is this?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s Sepp¡¯s.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid to ask, but who is Sepp?¡±


    ¡°Sepp¡¯s dead, Prof. Sepp¡¯s dead.¡±


    ¡°Why is¡­ never mind. I don¡¯t really want to know. Will Sepp¡¯s friends look for the Nightmare? Or the authorities?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so. They have more pressing problems right now, like¡­¡±


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t want to know. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    ¡°Where to?¡± Everyone was looking expectantly at him.


    ¡°Ehmm¡­ Dunno? Definitely not to the East. To the North are the Bergians, to the South this Seven Kingdom place, right? I would rather not go South. Less likely to go south. Hehe. You get it?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡±


    ¡°Not sssspeaksss foreigner.¡±


    ¡°Ah, I know! You used the idiom wrongly. We say ¡®it went East¡¯. Because the Valley is there.¡±


    ¡°We say, goes West, in the direction of the Domain.¡±


    ¡°And the Bergians use North. I don''t know why. Prof, my love, please don''t try to be funny. At least intentionally. You don''t have the Perks for it. Leave being funny to me! At least, you can look funny anytime something new comes up. Trust me, you are much better at looking stupid¡­ ahm¡­ funny than dear Bia here! You are almost a natural!"


    ¡°Hey, that was unnecessarily cruel!¡±


    ¡°I second the statement.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Bianca."


    ¡°No, I meant Miss Minerva¡¯s. You do the stu¡­ funny expression much better than me.¡±


    ¡°I concur. With Bianca, Mini has to expend effort to scandalize her, with you, it just comes naturally. Like the time¡­¡±


    ¡°You too, Wolfgang? I got it. Poor me always making faces when confronted with something.¡±


    Was it the right time to get offended, spring a pointless argument, and ditch his so-called friends? Get his stuff, and stomp off into the sunset?


    No!


    First, it was dawn, and if he dramatically stomped off in the direction of the sun, he would go East. That would go east very fast, as the Greenskins used the idiom. Secondly, it was just friendly banter after surviving a life-threatening adventure of¡­ being politely escorted through a riot to get their stuff or drop off girls in a brothel. Or crawling through well-maintained sewers. Or whatever Mini was doing.


    And finally, Mini just brought him a gift, that would immensely improve his road- and cross-country mobility. No need to stomp off, if he could ride!


    ¡°So, where to?¡± Prof asked


    ¡°Actually, to the South-West is Ostwaldland¡¯s second largest city. We could go there. It is said, it¡¯s the most picturesque town in all of the Greenskinlands.¡±


    ¡°All right! Onwards to the picturesque town of¡­¡±


    ¡°Sumpfigerort.¡±


    ¡°Yes, onwards to Sumpfigerort!¡±


    ¡°Onwards!¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡±


    ¡°All right!¡±


    It only took half an hour to start moving in the end. Most of the time wasn''t spent re-arranging their belongings (that took only five minutes or so), but with Prof getting friendly with his new mount. Obviously, it is very important to be friends with a horse-sized carnivore, especially, if you want to ride it and keep your appendages fixed to your torso. Prof very much liked his arms and legs where they were, he more or less grew attached to them in the last months. In the end, it took only a few Gremlins for the nightmare to become docile. Docile as in he didn''t want to eat Prof''s face off and allowed Prof to sit on his back.


    Another few minutes went by with asking around, where Sumpfigerort exactly was, and how to reach it.


    ¡°I don''t think, we will able to sell the gems in the new city, so we are officially broke again. Any ideas, on how we could get money? Probably we should start delving dungeons." Prof started with the brainstorming while they traversed the highway ring around Saugarten. All right, since there wasn''t that much traffic to warrant a highway ring, they were traversing agricultural backroads. Highway ring sounds better, though.


    ¡°Well, we will do what we know best." Wolfgang said, "Before you ask, that is playing music."


    ¡°I heard, all the dungeons here are managed by the Adventurer''s Guild. We would need to join them." Mini supplied. "They always have other jobs to do too, stuff to kill and they are even willing to pay money to folks to do it! Having fun and getting paid at the same time! It''s awesome!"


    ¡°Miss Minerva, have you ever been inside of an Adventurer¡¯s Guild?¡±


    ¡°Of course I was! I''m a master-level adventurer at home! I''ve been promoted to it by retrieving the crown of some silly bird from the Grand Dungeon of So''Ee!"


    ¡°You are the Guildmaster of your local branch?!?¡± Prof was shocked. If Mini was promoted to any position of authority, that place was probably going to go east (or west or north) very quickly. Oh, wait. Wasn¡¯t Mini some kind of noble, and on the list for inheriting the title of Duke? Duchess. Whatever.


    ¡°Of course not, silly. The Guildmaster is my uncle¡­ nephew¡­ ehmmm¡­ crap, your language doesn''t have the correct word for our awesome Vampire family relations. Being a master means, I can open a new Guild everywhere, and the Locals will accept my fabulous leadership! Even the All-Elven Bureau for Covert Operations recognized my position and accepted me as a Journeyvampire. I had only to promise, I won''t do any adventuring in the Domain!"


    ¡°The Elves call the Adventurer¡¯s Guild the All-Elven whatever?¡±


    ¡°Actually no, Bianca. But I didn¡¯t care to remember the correct name. It was silly.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think, Journeyvampire is a real position in any Guild.¡±


    ¡°I know! They actually called it Awesome Adventuring Lady-Vampire With a Rank of Slightly Below Supreme Grandmaster.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°No. But it was some overly complicated, unnecessarily flowery, and boringly long name. I don''t really care, Journeyvampire sounds more awesome, anyway. What do you think?"


    ¡°Oh, look! We have arrived at the road to Sumpfigerort!¡±

 Chapter 16: Never Sewer The Party, Part 5

    As it turned out, asking about the way to the new city was completely unnecessary. As a reminder: Greenskins were a species that posted complicated spreadsheets in training halls, so everyone could calculate the exact amount of Skill Points they would gain by paying certain trainers for their time. It was a species, that took being excellent extremely seriously. A species, that had sewers, and kept them clean. A species, where one could be an Honoured Redcap by being excellent in sweeping streets.


    Of course, such a species would have well-maintained cobbled roads between important towns, with signposts directing the weary travelers in the right direction. The signs even included distances.


    Something Romans were able to do too.


    If they had rest stops every few dozen kilometers ¨C selling overpriced food and even more overpriced go-juices for the means of transportation ¨C it would be almost like on Earth. Even the quality of the cobbled road was comparable to certain highways back home.


    According to the sign, Sumpfigerort was 162 kilometers away. With Prof''s stats, he would have been able to do it in around three days, even walking lightly. However, he was not alone ¨C and every last one of his traveling companions had a lower Agility than him. Meaning, everyone else was slower. The slowest one was actually Adeltraut with an Agility of only 10. Well, Prof could sleep faster than the Ogre could run. Without any background music, and calculating everyone''s Agility and Endurance, they were stuck with eighteen kilometers a day or so.


    ¡°That would be nine days.¡± declared Prof, closing his rulebook.


    ¡°No, you are wrong.¡±


    ¡°Why are you using a rulebook for games to determine real-world measurements?" Mini and Wolfgang said at the same time.


    ¡°Because it is a mostly accurate description of how Arkadia works? And what do you mean, I¡¯m wrong. See, this table here tells me the speed for any given Agility, and this here shows how long you can move with certain Endurance!¡±


    ¡°First of all, Adeltraut is considered a Large Creature, so her movement speed has to be multiplied by one-and-a-half. At least read the footnotes, if you want to play by those rules!¡±


    ¡°Thanks, Wolfgang. The second problem is that this road is considered a prepared, well-maintained one, and that would mean, the base movement speed has to be multiplied again.¡±


    ¡°Yes, also, your Endurance counts as two points higher.¡± even Theodor chimed in.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think, this would be prepared and well-maintained.¡± Bianca took the rulebook and looked at the tables. ¡°See, it says here ¡®like running tracks¡¯. This could be even a bad road.¡±


    ¡°No, no. Definitely not a bad road. It is cobbled, bad roads would be equal to a dirt track.¡±


    ¡°All right, folks. I was wrong. How long would it take to reach Sumpfigerort, then? What do you calculate?¡±


    ¡°You know, in the real world, almost everyone with average Agility and Endurance could do around thirty-five kilometers a day without a problem. So, four and a half days. Maybe we could do it in four.¡± Mini wasn¡¯t the best in [Mathematics] for no reason.


    ¡°If you are asking, how long it would take in a game, the answer is as long as the Game Master wishes." Wolfgang was a Wiseass.


    ¡°Right¡­ Let¡¯s move. Oh, would be Mythrillhead willing to play some walking music?¡±


    Prof had to concede, music magic was an awesome invention, and made a boring walk if not less boring, but at least faster.


    While the Domain was mostly thick forest with a few patches of agriculture, the new land was the exact opposite: a lot of fields with only a few patches of woodland. The terrain mostly consisted of gently rolling hills, with a few higher or steeper ones, but a lot of rocks. Prof wasn''t exactly good in [Agriculture], but supposed, the rocky ground made growing food hard. Probably this was the reason for the over-abundance of fields. One could do only so much with manure and a plow. Obviously, the Greenskins haven''t invented steam engines, tractors, and synthetic fertilizers yet.


    Well, Arkadia was still stuck in Medieval times, so no real surprise there. Obviously, magic didn''t help much either. Probably not many mages, sorcerers, wizards, and such were willing to have a career in the agricultural field. Imagine, you go to the Magical Academy and after graduation, instead of sitting in a comfy tower doing easy magic stuff, you do hard work with manure. Probably not many have that dream.


    What Prof really missed from the view were the classical castles on every other hill. Not, that there were castles on every other hill in the old times on Earth, but the complete absence was glaring. There were structures on a few heights, but Greenskins had a very unique way of building stuff. Was that thing on that hill a castle, a farmhouse, or a forgotten pillbox from the last big war? At least with the Elves you could recognize a hilltop ring fortress and differentiate it from a normal log-house.


    With the Greenskins? Not so much.


    The whole region had a certain rural charm, but after a day, it started to get boring. Good painters could most likely make a fortune out of to-be-famous pictures of, say, Goblin Girls Collecting Paprika, Ogre Hauling Produce, Shepherd and Hogs, Resting Orc Peasants, Folks Doing Things to Plants, or Feeding the Gremlins, but Prof still wasn¡¯t able to draw or paint, and he was missing the picturesque country hovels, that made such works ¨C and regions ¨C noteworthy.


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    Noteworthy, on the other hand, was the absence of strategically placed rest stops to fleece travelers, who forgot to fill their tanks and pack enough sandwiches. All day they found only one tavern, and even that didn''t offer lodgings, just a quick meal and drinks. Prof suspected it made most of its income from the residents of the small town it was located close to rather than the few travelers on the road.


    There wasn¡¯t that much foot traffic on the road, and just a bit more riders or wagons. Most of the latter probably brought enough cheap food with them, and animals didn¡¯t need to be refilled every thousand kilometers or so at dedicated filling stations. You just found some patches of grass, a stream, or threw a few caged Gremlins at them.


    Surprisingly few people did travel in medieval times, and Arkadia was a medieval world too. There were no commuters, working dozens of kilometers from their living places and causing traffic jams twice daily, and vacation ¨C the few days, where you weren''t doing backbreaking work or starving ¨C was spent at the closest pond. If someone wanted to do some traveling and see spectacular castles and new lands, meet exciting new people, he went to a dedicated travel agency, called the local army recruiter.


    Not counting the army marching somewhere, roads were used only by the odd merchant ¨C and those weren¡¯t exactly frequent either. Why haul cheap stuff to other places, when the same stuff was available there too? Luxury goods didn¡¯t have that large a market.


    Without traffic, there weren¡¯t conveniently placed roadside motels with pools and cable TV either.


    For some reason, the Greenskins weren''t so excellent to copy the Elves'' organized camping grounds, there were just a few unmaintained places, where travelers could rest, make a campfire and pitch their tents. The latter was a commodity, and Prof and his friends were freshly out of it. Again. September ¨C all cultures Prof met so far had a different name for the month, and none were September ¨C was close to its end, and it started to get cold at night. Sleeping in the open would be impossible not far in the future ¨C especially, since their bedrolls were safely stored with the tents and the rest of the camping gear back in Saugarten.


    The first night, they barely managed to make a campfire; the place they decided to camp for the night was basically cleared of firewood.


    The only saving grace was that they made good time on the road that day; walking music, reinforced with music magic enabled them to travel almost seventy kilometers! Without getting overly tired. Prof wondered, if in case music magic were real on Earth, and would work on stored music, would his old car be able to make three hundred kilometers an hour? Not, that there would be any possibility to test it, most highways had a speed limit of hundred and thirty and weren''t built to accommodate anything over two hundred. Or so he heard.


    After an uncomfortable, cold, and miserable night, huddling around a barely burning fire, the new day dawned with cold wind and light rain. No wonder, it was already autumn. Strangely, no fiction (at least those which Prof remembered) ever mentioned such grueling weather. Mostly, it was just comfortable, warm climate, and even if winter came, it was just time to visit a nearby hot spring, or go skiing. Medieval ski resorts were always fully booked.


    Of course, no one is interested in reading about how miserable it is to walk all day in the wind and rain, being cold, and lugging heavy luggage. Without high-performance bags of holding to put said luggage in, no conveniently placed rest stops every other kilometer, and no hot beverages sold on the roadside by cute chicks in short clothes. Or, in the case of the party and the band, even without music ¨C the band refused to play in such awful weather.


    No one is interested in how everyone was wet and cold to the bones, how everyone¡¯s skin tried its best to look like particularly raisiny raisins after just one hour, or how everyone¡¯s clothes contained more water than fabric.


    No one is interested in how Prof¡¯s feet started to dissolve in his wet boots.


    Well, actually, it wasn¡¯t dissolving, only Prof felt like it did.


    There are a lot of things, no one is interested in reading about when it comes to walking thirty-five kilometers in rain, wind, and cold, without modern conveniences like umbrellas, raincoats, or cars. Only a select few are interested in such misery.


    Being miserable all day, because of walking in less-than-ideal weather, while being wet and cold they were getting hungry too. It was one thing, that there wasn''t an overabundance of taverns, inns, restaurants, or eateries present, the more pressing issue was the chronic under-abundance of monetary means to invest into calories. One could even say, the non-existence of finances.


    They were broke.


    It was a contradiction, however. They were sitting on quite a wealth, gems, magical stuff, and a lot of jewelry back in Saugarten, but they were still broke. Simply because no convenience store was able to exchange valuable things for valuable coins. Even specialty shops did not have enough money to take the stuff off Prof''s hands. Everyone agreed, that selling their legitimate salvage vastly undervalue wasn''t a good idea.


    At least for now.


    Sooner or later the importance of feeding seven omnivores, two carnivores, and a Vampire would overwrite the profound need to conserve their loot.


    Selling a gem or a magical piece of clothing for a hot meal and a few Gremlins wasn''t just wasteful, it was an all-out crime. Probably a more serious crime than eating and leaving the premises really fast without paying.


    Despite the awful weather, the traffic strangely picked up around noon. The road still wasn¡¯t congested, with only a few wagons every hour, but it was a marked improvement from the day before. Maybe wagons could use the roads only on some days?


    Whatever the reason was, Prof wasn¡¯t exactly interested in it ¨C being miserable, even in his suba and the lumberjack shirt, was more important to him right now than to make up theories about Greenskin traffic regulations.


    In the evening, they were able to exchange music for some food at the next muddy place that was the equivalent of a run-down truck stop.

 Chapter 16: Never Sewer The Party, Part 6

    In the end, it took them two further days to reach the allegedly picturesque city of Sumpfigerort. The weather got gradually worse, with stronger winds, heavier rain, and lower temperatures ¨C Prof dreaded the future when it wasn''t just the beginning of autumn, but the deepest winter. According to his map, they were still deep inland, the southern coast was about five hundred kilometers further to the South (as the Dragon flew, and if Prof estimated the scale correctly). If Prof was right, the coastal region corresponded to the latitudes of Europe''s Mediterranean Coast back on Earth ¨C or probably Florida on the other side of the Pond.


    Everyone knew winter wasn''t invented in those places, with nice weather all year, but good wines, pizza, and blooming orange trees. The ideal place to spend the winter. An untold number of retirees couldn''t be wrong, after all!


    The party needed to reach to promised land of no winter, and they had only two months at most to accomplish it ¨C if they stayed a month or so in Sumpfigerort to earn some traveling money, they would barely make it. Assuming, nothing serious happened on the road.


    As they looked down from a low hill, they were greeted with their first view of the pretty Greenskin city where they hoped to restock, resupply, and get re-riched. Well, pretty, beautiful, and picturesque wouldn''t be words Prof would use for the city, at least after the first glance. It was built in a swampy place or on a drying-out lake, sporting the butt-ugly Greenskin architecture, he already was sick of. You could look at concrete bunkers just so long before they were getting boring ¨C for Prof that timeframe was around one day. Here, he got more of the same, the only difference was that Sumpfigerort had mostly canals instead of roads.


    Luckily, there were sidewalks next to the canals, so cheap ¨C or poor ¨C pedestrians could get from A to B without paying for a boat.


    Or swim.


    Since the water wasn''t¡­ crystal clear¡­ swimming probably wasn''t an option, to begin with.


    Finding the Adventurer¡¯s Guild ¨C strangely, it was called a Guild and not a not-Guild ¨C wasn''t exactly hard. The city wasn''t that large, probably thirty to forty thousand inhabitants, and the other pedestrians were helpful in pointing out, where they needed to go. Greenskins were excellent that way ¨C they didn''t even give intentionally wrong directions to get the idiotic tourists lost.


    Mythrillhead left them halfway to go to the Musicians not-Guild, to secure a gig or two. It was agreed to meet up in front of the Adventurer''s Guild or leave directions there if they missed each other. Someone needed to invent cell phones or the internet, backing down from an appointment was much easier with modern technology, after all.


    Before the party entered the Guild ¨C a normal bunker with the usual redundant decorations ¨C Mini stopped them.


    ¡°You can¡¯t enter the Adventurer¡¯s Guild looking like this. It is embarrassing.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Prof looked at his gear. Slightly dirty and wet, but almost new suba, enchanted armor, good boots, and awesome axes. He didn¡¯t see anything embarrassing or wrong. The same with Bianca. ¡°We do look like well-outfitted adventurers or mercenaries.¡±


    ¡°No real Adventurer would be caught in public looking like that. How would the public know, they are adventurers and not some common thugs? Not even talking about entering the Guild!¡±


    ¡°Ehm, wearing high-grade stuff doesn''t give it away, that we are ¨C or want to be ¨C real adventurers? Fix a medal to our cape, and everyone would know our rank in the Guild at first glance. Oh, no¡­"


    Prof finally connected the dots. Mini was an adventurer ¨C master level, even! ¨C and she was always wearing those impractical clothes. Prof haven¡¯t seen anyone else (although the Elves in the Valley had some) with comparable clothes, but Deadbranch had a shop exactly for them. Could it be? No, that was impossible! Improbable. Unlikely.


    ¡°Please, don¡¯t tell me, you aren¡¯t wearing clothes befitting a real adventurer just now.¡±


    ¡°Sure I do. Why else would I wear them? All right, even if I wasn''t an adventurer, I would wear them, because they accent by natural beauty and awesomeness. But you got it. Adventurers have to wear such clothes because else no one would perceive them as adventurers."


    ¡°They are impractical!¡±


    ¡°And revealing!¡± Bianca added


    ¡°Too many clothessss. Bad in fight!"


    ¡°They are high class! And they are awesome! Some are even better than Prof¡¯s armor!¡±


    ¡°Better in what? Revealing more skin?¡± Bianca snorted.


    ¡°No, they have a higher armor rating!"


    ¡°What use is higher armor rating, when the armor only covers a few handspans?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t argue! Do you want honest work? It is this, or going to a brothel. Or waylay some bandits, but by joining the Guild, you would be paid to rob bandits!¡±


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    ¡°Taking care of banditry, isn''t that the job of the Guards or the Army?" Well, there were bounty hunters on Earth too. The guards probably had very important coffee breaks, so handing out paid voluntary work to civilians was probably done everywhere.


    ¡°Sure it is. But if you are a guild member, the Guards pay you a higher bounty. And you sometimes get unique assignments."


    ¡°I bet, you collected a lot of bounties at home if you know so much about how it is done."


    ¡°Ehmmmm¡­ Well¡­ Not exactly. We don''t have many bandits at home. They tend to be eaten by animals or plants or are killed by our peasants. Sometimes, when they are in dire need of a skeleton slave, they even dispatched normal travelers too. I remember this one time, when¡­"


    ¡°All right, so, clothes. We don''t have ''Adventurer Garb'' and we don''t have money to buy some. No, I won''t invest gems to get clothes. What other options do we have?"


    ¡°Well, Bianca still has her Chainmail Bikini, that is valid adventurer clothing¡­¡±


    ¡°No! I decline to be seen in chainmail underwear!¡±


    ¡°¡­ and you have the leather shorts. Hmmm¡­ If you wear those, plus the dancing shoes and your bearskin, that would be acceptable. Oh, and definitely the insomnia cap."


    ¡°I would look ridiculous.¡±


    ¡°No, you would look like a ''Barbarian Archetype''. Good that you haven''t shaved in the last few days. Although a bushy bear would be better, we can work with the stubble. If you had more chest hair, that would be fantastic!"


    ¡°What about my expensive and very practical armor?¡±


    ¡°Right, you can wear your stuff in battle, but you have to look like an adventurer every other time. So, Bianca¡­¡±


    ¡°No, I won¡¯t wear such revealing clothes! They are indecent!¡±


    ¡°Hmmm¡­ I don''t think, I have anything knee-length¡­"


    ¡°Ankle-length!¡±


    ¡°That I definitely don¡¯t have. Oh, wait! I do have one that would be perfect for you!¡±


    Mini turned and started to rummage through her bags of holding. How many clothes did she have?!? Obviously, she didn''t even remember every last of them! Just as Prof was about to say something extremely sexist about women and their endless collection of never-worn clothes, Mini spun around again and held out a black dress. It indeed looked like it reached the ankles, and even came with a scarf, head covering, and a veil. Everything in a deep black color. It almost looked like a habit, but that would be impossible to rationalize. If there were no gods on Arkadia, having nun orders would be unnecessary, no?


    On the other hand, someone brought Chainmail Bikinis to Arkadia, so why not habits?


    ¡°This is the traditional garb for the ¡®Battle Sister Archetype¡¯. Don¡¯t ask me, why I have it.¡±


    ¡°It¡­ it¡­ it¡­ covers so much! Thank you, Miss Minerva! This will be my favorite dress EVER!!!"


    Well, even if nun orders were unnecessary without gods, the concept of dressing up and behaving like nuns was still needed. Probably there were other kinds of nun costumes too. The short and leathery kind, but who knew?


    ¡°What about Sharpclaw?¡±


    ¡°She is a Kobold, they normally don¡¯t wear clothes. She will be fine.¡±


    After they changed into their ¡°Adventurer Clothes¡± ¨C luckily there was a tavern not far from the Guild, and the owner allowed them to use the restrooms ¨C Mini gave them final directions.


    ¡°As of now, you are considered novice adventurers! If anyone asks you, your master is the Fabulous and Magnificent Minerva Pannonnii. What you need to know about being an adventurer? Let¡¯s see. At first, you won¡¯t be allowed to do stuff without supervision, but this is why I¡¯m here, after all. The Guilds usually have craftsmen and shopkeepers on payroll, so you can sell your loot and buy new stuff within the Guild. They allegedly have better prices than those from the outside. Anyway, you should respect your betters, especially your dear and magnanimous master, but if someone of your own standing gives you lip, you are allowed and required to kick their teeth out. Never kill or maim a fellow adventurer. What else? Naw, this is mostly it. Let¡¯s go!¡±


    Prof was almost certain, there was more to being an adventurer than Mini told them, but he didn''t plan on taking the adventurer business seriously. They needed to be adventurers to be allowed into local dungeons, so they could make enough money, but above that, he was content to leave the whole Guild behind.


    Entering the building, he was greeted by what he expected from his practically endless experiences with Adventurer''s Guilds but also by the diametral opposite. The usual rowdy crowd was quietly drinking in a filthily clean hall, listening to a lecture on [Zoology] or [Monsterology] - which one, Prof wasn''t exactly sure. The crowd of around ten consisted mostly of Greenskins, but Prof spied a Human too. Of course, everyone was clad in typical adventurer costumes: frilly dresses, laces, short skirts, long stockings, overblown hats on the one end of the spectrum, underwear, straps, and bare chests on the other.


    Why Arkadians believed, such impractical clothing was a must for true adventurers, Prof couldn¡¯t fathom. Sooner or later the adventurers would realize, their life expectancy had an inverse relation to the amount of textiles and metals they put on, no?


    Obviously not.


    Mini walked purposefully to a counter, set on one side of the hall. The customer service representative manning (she was actually a female Hob, so manning probably wasn''t the correct designation, but "femalehobing" isn''t a word) surprisingly wasn''t wearing adventurer costumes, nor some Victorian uniform, perverted into showing more skin than not. Instead, she had absolutely normal, everyday clothes ¨C a yellow dress with green flowers and a blue vest. The only strange piece was a purple beret with a silver medal affixed to it.


    ¡°It is I, the Fabulous and Magnificent Minerva Pannonnii, a Wandering Master!¡± Mini introduced herself, then pointed to the rest of the party ¡°I brought my apprentices to this illustrious Guild to register them as future indomitable and courageous adventurers!¡±


    ¡°It is I, the Industrious Heidi Bergbewohner, a journeyman adventurer and current clerk for the Sumpfigerort Adventurer¡¯s Guild!¡± the clerk answered. ¡°Please fill out these formidable forms, venerable wandering master!¡±


    Was this for real? Did Prof need not only to wear ridiculous clothes but learn to speak the language, culture, and etiquette of a strange subculture too?


    Why was he putting up with this nonsense?


    Oh yeah, because he was broke, was young, and needed the money.

 Chapter 17: We are (finally) Adventurers!, Part 1

    ¡°Fabulous and Magnificent Minerva Pannonnii, Wandering Master, there is only one issue, but nothing an audacious party like you couldn¡¯t solve!¡±


    Of course, joining the Adventurer¡¯s Guild was not only about walking in, so the locals could hand a badge over ¨C so one could be technically above the law. Who could have guessed?


    ¡°The Fabulous and Magnificent Minerva Pannonnii, Wandering Master''s Adventuring Permit was issued by a foreign, glorious Guild, and the contentious All-Elven Association of Free Agents only acknowledged the rank of¡­ ehmm¡­ Journeyvampire¡­ is that even a guild rank? Ehmm¡­ Anyway¡­ For this indefatigable Guild to issue a local permit, the Fabulous and Magnificent Minerva Pannonnii, Wandering Master has to complete a most arduous task! In possession of a master-level permit, we will be able to acknowledge the invincible apprentices as such too!"


    ¡°Industrious Heidi Bergbewohner, what is the arduous task this gallant party has to complete?¡±


    ¡°Well, it just so happens, that a perilous monster is harassing a few assiduous villages not far from here. It is not excellent to let such a nauseous creature scandalize diligent citizens!¡±


    Was there another crazy Vampire on the loose? From that hard-to-understand sentence, Prof would have assumed, Mini had a good time in the villages, but that was impossible. They just arrived in the region.


    ¡°It is a Troll, a most dreadful creature!¡±


    Oh, right, eating folks in front of their friends and family would probably be indeed scandalous. So, they had only to slay a fearsome Troll to be allowed in the Guild and legally be able to plunder dungeons. No one said, getting rich was easy.


    After Mini finalized the details, they were ready to leave for the next epic quest.


    Interestingly, no bare-chested burly Orc, wearing only straps, leather briefs, and fur-lined leather boots ¨C accompanied by shifty-looking Goblins, or overdressed Hobs ¨C barred their way. Prof was prepared for the inevitable shakedown of newbies. The established adventurers just had to prove their superiority by bullying low-level noobs! Or kicked their asses by overpowered noobs. Prof wasn''t confident, he and his party would be able to kick enough ass, but he wasn''t willing to lie down either.


    Instead, they were mostly ignored, only a few adventurers gave them nods or waved at them. Most just listened to the lecture on some bird. It was refreshing, that they finally ran into non-hostile people. No one wanted to rob, kill, kidnap, sacrifice, exploit, or detain them for once! They were only sent to kill off some local wildlife!


    Hey, wasn¡¯t this how everything started?!?


    Walking out of the Guild, Prof tried to organize his thoughts. Albeit his [Monsterology] was ¨C still ¨C abysmal low, there were a few facts everyone growing up on Earth and reading (or playing) fantasy knew about Trolls. They were ugly, huge, strong, durable, and brutal, and could regenerate but were vulnerable to fire. There was a good chance, they provided good rare loot, too. They may even had acidic blood. He proudly shared his findings with the others.


    ¡°Prof, you know¡­¡± Bianca started to congratulate him on his extreme and awesome knowledge


    ¡°Look, Bia! A shop! Let''s go shopping!" Mini interrupted the accolade and dragged the poor mercenary in the direction of a shop. Sharpclaw followed on her own. Why a rugmaker caught Mini''s fancy, Prof couldn''t understand. Or how they wanted to pay for their newest rug. However, it was never a good idea to ask questions, you don''t really want answered. Why girls wanted certain items was such a question. Especially, when the "girl" in question was a crazy Vampire.


    It took only a few minutes for the girls to be done with their epic shopping spree ¨C they were back without a new rug, but all were grinning. Prof had a sinking feeling. Did they want to prank him somehow or have a laugh at his expenses? He was neither Na?ve nor had Paranoia (he checked, just to be sure), so couldn¡¯t decide, what to think. How should someone react, who wasn¡¯t neither Careless nor Careful? In the end, he decided to be on the lookout, but do nothing else. They wouldn''t put him in danger, after all! Probably.


    Obviously, Mini got directions to the insidious monster¡¯s lair, for they arrived at a partly collapsed building around noon without getting lost or asking for directions. Trolls were cave-dwellers, if Prof remembered correctly, so the basement of a ruin was most likely the closest place to be underground in a swampy place. Unfortunately, the stairs leading down were too narrow for Binky and Sleepy (as Prof decided to name his Nightmare), so they had to be left behind. As Prof started to change into his battle gear, he noticed, neither Mini nor Bianca was changing. Were they planning on going to battle in flimsy and unpractical costumes?


    It was strange. If their beast couldn¡¯t enter, how could a huge Troll do it? Even if Mini was Irresponsible, weren¡¯t four of them without further preparations quite insufficient?


    All his questions were answered as soon as they entered the basement proper.


    ¡°Hah! This is what the Greenskins can afford. The dregs of the sentient species? Ugly losers! Are you even Level 1 yet?"


    Obviously, Arkadian Trolls weren''t copied from Tolkien ¨C the specimen they faced was even shorter than a Goblin but had messy and greasy black hair. Its face (and to be honest, its whole body) was covered in pustules and pimples, its other parts were covered only by dirty loincloths. Barely. If one used the term in a very broad sense.


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    ¡°Losers, do you even speak Greenskinian? I bet you don''t!"


    ¡°What is this?!?¡± Prof was baffled. Yes, Trolls were disgusting, but this creature was foulmouthed too! How came, no one just walked up to it and kicked out its teeth? It was diminutive! It was unarmed!


    ¡°This, my dear, is a Troll. What makes it dangerous is its mental and emotional attacks.¡±


    ¡°Hah, I knew it! The losers can¡¯t speak Greenskinian! Heh, even in your language, your grammar sucks! You are pathetic!¡±


    ¡°Hey, I have 125% in [Speech: Bergian]! My grammar is good!¡± Prof replied angrily.


    ¡°The Trolls feed on the anger of their victims. The longer the victims argue with them, the more energy or food they get out of it. So, don¡¯t argue with them.¡± Mini was in all-out sexy teacher mode.


    ¡°Look at you! Ridiculous clothes, pathetic weapons, laughable Skills! You aren¡¯t adventurers, but just small-time idiots!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand. I don¡¯t feel any different, and you girls also don¡¯t look like you are trolled.¡±


    ¡°Hey, douchebag! This is the best harem you were able to gather? How much do you pay for these ugly wenches?¡±


    ¡°Well, you have an Intelligence of 18, that gives you high mental resistance. I gave Bia a trinket, that raises her resistance, and I just used Blood Magic for the same.¡±


    ¡°They are so ugly, I bet, they are paying you to fuck them! Disgusting uglyfile!¡±


    ¡°And Sharpclaw? She has the lowest Intelligence of us, and that would mean, her mental resistance is the lowest. And yet¡­¡±


    ¡°You see, the funny thing with reptiles is, that they are completely immune to the Troll¡¯s attacks. No one ever figured out why.¡±


    ¡°They aren¡¯t even the same species as you! Pervert! No Human wanted to fuck with you?¡±


    ¡°So, if we aren¡¯t affected by the Troll, why don¡¯t we just walk over, and kick the shit out of it?¡±


    ¡°Me not touchessss Troll! Contagioussss.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s vile! Look, it touched itself! I¡¯m out!¡±


    ¡°See, this is why no one kills Trolls. No one wants to touch them. I even think about becoming a celibate vegetarian, just by looking at it."


    ¡°Hah! You are all incompetent and impotent! Especially you, little man!¡±


    ¡°Come on! It''s unarmed! We could just walk up it, one hit, and it''s done!"


    ¡°Go for it, champion!¡±


    ¡°Hit it hard, Prof!¡±


    ¡°Sssstab it!¡±


    ¡°Why only me?¡± Prof was pushed toward the Troll by his party members.


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you a Gentleman? You should protect innocent little girls from vile creatures!¡±


    They were right, a gentleman should indeed protect innocent little girls. As soon as Prof found some, he would protect them, he was absolutely sure. The current selection was somewhat deficient in the innocent department, and they couldn¡¯t exactly be called little girls either.


    Be as it may, Prof steeled himself. He was or could be a hero (with lowercase h), so defeating a Troll on his own wouldn''t be impossible, no? He had awesome Skills, cool Perks, and incredible gear ¨C how could such a tiny piece of vileness thwart his advance?


    Said tiny piece of vileness was currently monologing about how it would send letters to the Guild, the Chief, President, and General, describing, how useless, speciesist, and un-excellent they all were. Or something like that.


    It would be much better if Prof could enlarge the stairs, so their cute pets could enter the fray and eat the Troll. But no, that would take too much work, and they ¨C or rather he ¨C would be forced to listen to the Troll trolling the whole time. He really didn''t want to touch it. It was repugnant. Maybe he should rescue someone with good magic Skills and Perks next time. Mobile artillery was always good to have.


    Since they currently had none (and the girls were hiding behind), it was on Prof and his Skills and Perks to defeat their heinous, vile, and dreadful enemy. He took The Chopper in hand, concentrated on a Critical Hit on the head, and swung.


    His high Luck, combined with his Perks and The Chopper¡¯s bonuses basically guaranteed a Critical Hit with massive damage. Honestly, it was overkill. Either the Troll was low-Level ¨C Prof forgot to use [Observe] again; it was so counter-intuitive, he had to actively train himself to use the Skill ¨C or the damage was truly through the roof. In one second, there was a horrific creature, spewing hatred on Prof¡¯s non-existent [Agriculture] and [Mining], the next only a bloody pulp remained.


    It was a joke.


    If these creatures were so easy to defeat, how come, they didn''t go extinct millennia ago? Glancing over to the girls, he got the answer to his unspoken question: no one was willing to come into close contact with the monsters.


    Anyway, it was time for looting! Heaps of money, jewelry, magical trinkets, high-quality weapons, and armor! Paintings and rugs! Furniture! Everything, that could be converted into money!


    Unfortunately, the Troll¡¯s den had neither.


    The most valuable things they found ¨C even working Scavenger to its bones ¨C were a few rusty nails and a few withered tubers. Probably the Troll''s cadaver had some value, but no one in the party had relevant Skills on a high enough Level to even start guessing. They only took the Troll''s ears as proof, they slayed the monster. Of course, it was Prof, who collected them. The girls made the argument, that Prof had the highest Skill for it ¨C although it was true, but Prof suspected, they simply didn''t want to get their hands (and claws) dirty. Cutting off ears wasn''t that hard, every toddler with a knife could have done it!


    Before they left for the Adventurer''s Guild, Mini had Prof change back into his adventurer costume. He started to question if the whole hassle was worth it. So far they had to don ridiculous clothes and kill off a dangerous beast for free. Hopefully, the quest and the dungeons were lucrative enough!

 Chapter 17: We are (finally) Adventurers!, Part 2

    ¡°This is disgusting! Why am I the one, who has to do this?!?¡± Prof complained


    ¡°You have the highest relevant Skill for it," Bianca answered


    ¡°Your Skill isn¡¯t that far behind! I could do Sharpclaw¡¯s job for example.¡±


    ¡°No, she is simply better with knives. Much, much better with knives. And she has claws.¡±


    ¡°Her [Knives] are only 14% better! What about your job?¡±


    ¡°Ah, you want to stand in front, parry, and block, while delivering the stuff? It''s hard work. I have Tireless and you don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Fine. Shouldn¡¯t Mini at least help us out?¡±


    ¡°You know very well, that Miss Minerva is a master adventurer, and this an apprentice task. She isn''t allowed to help out."


    ¡°Missssussss no bother with thissss tassssk.¡±


    ¡°Yes, that too. Could you imagine Miss Minerva doing this?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ Not exactly. But¡­¡±


    ¡°You could take over Sleepy''s job if you want."


    ¡°No way! That¡¯s even more disgusting! I won¡¯t munch on those remains!¡±


    ¡°See? You do the job, you are most qualified to do. Stop complaining and wash the dishes!¡±


    It was cruel. In his previous life, he managed not to relocate to Germany to wash dishes for thirty-five years, here, it took only a few months to travel West and do just that. Of course, he should have read the details of the task before he accepted, but everyone knew, what ¡°Help out in the tavern¡± meant. They had a rat or spider problem in the basement, and the owner needed someone to make it disappear. Easy money for an easy job.


    Unfortunately, the tavern''s problem weren''t rats, but an illness, that knocked out most of the staff. The tavern indeed needed help: a waitress, someone, who was good with a knife to slice and dice meat and vegetables, someone, who would wash dishes, and someone to take care of the garbage. Why the quest was posted in the Adventurer''s Guild and not in some kind of temp agency, Prof couldn''t fathom. Washing dishes was probably an adventure for someone, but standing around in a kitchen all day, bowed over a sink, and scrubbing half-eaten food from plates wasn''t something, Prof would have called exciting.


    Unfortunately, they still needed money. Although they were allowed to squat in the Guild ¨C it had some free rooms for itinerant adventurers ¨C sooner or later they had to cough up the rent. His preliminary investigations revealed nearly a hundred jewellers in the city but was told, only two or three would be able to afford to buy some of the gems. If he was lucky.


    That had to wait, however, since the high-priority quest came up, and Prof was occupied with the awesome adventure of getting plates clean. Bianca was actually right, he had the highest [Housekeeping] in the whole party, and obviously keeping a house also included his current job. Not, that his Skill was awesomely high ¨C only 47% - or that much higher, than Bianca''s or Sharpclaw''s ¨C 34% and 37% respectively. Prof doubted, one needed to be a grandmaster to do any of their tasks¡­ He needed to read the fine print the next time he accepted a job offer.


    The next day, the tavern owner did not need their services. It may or may not had something to do with Bianca knocking a patron with grabby hands unconscious, Prof dropping a few plates, Sharpclaw accidentally assassinating the cutting board ¨C it was prone, and one of the cuts was done in surprise and out of stealth ¨C or Sleepy eating a few Gremlins that were kept as ready food. It was ultimately agreed, that the owner didn¡¯t charge them for damages but wouldn¡¯t pay them either. Un-excellent prick. Hiring professional monster exterminators for household chores, and being surprised by the result!


    Being currently between jobs gave Prof time to visit the jewelers he hoped to sell some of the gems to. Surprisingly, he was able to sell a few ambers and garnets for a total of three marks, but got a tip, that a local magic user would maybe interested in one of the magical pieces he got. Tracking down the buyer and getting an appointment with him took most of the morning, but in the end, he was sitting across a Goblin, clad in rich clothes. Of course, the Goblin brought four bodyguards with him too ¨C doing high-value transactions with an unknown foreigner without muscle to back up the haggling was probably not a good idea. This was why Prof mobilized the reserves too, including Mythrillhead ¨C and parked them outside.


    If Prof didn¡¯t know, what they were about, he probably wouldn¡¯t have agreed to a meeting in the Thieves not-Guild, but having convenient lawyers to push in the way of incoming blades was better than to look out for innocents. The third person at the table in the discreet room was the jeweler, who gave Prof the tip ¨C he was mostly there for his professional opinion on the offered goods.


    Prof spread out his collection on the table. There was everything from diamonds, sapphires, rubies, and emeralds down to quartz, and chalcedony, for a total of multiple dozen stones. Even counting only the magical pieces, it came up to more, than a dozen. Prof was aware, of what attributes the stones had ¨C the appraiser in Castle Seeblickstein was thorough ¨C but none of them was useful for him, the party, or even the band. Either they needed Mana to invoke the effect, or, for the passive effects, they were simply useless for them. Knowing the exact time ¨C down to below seconds ¨C for example, was surely nice, but not an immediate (or long-term) priority. Or being able to detect magical spells: only the band had Mana to begin with, and even their Skills in anything but music and sound were low.


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    This was an interesting little tidbit Prof learned. Although one could detect a spell with the help of the gem, one needed the Skill in the respective field to know, what the spell did. Sure, you could guess, what a fireball, for example, did, but detecting incoming fire didn¡¯t exactly need the gem¡¯s power.


    The other thing was, that no one was exactly comfortable with walking around, twinkling.


    As it transpired, the Goblin was loaded and was willing to spend his wealth. From a few cues, Prof suspected, he was going on an expedition somewhere and needed firepower at his fingertips more, than currency in a bank.


    After the initial perusing, the Goblin ¨C named Leopold something-or-other ¨C pushed around half the magical gems back to Prof.


    ¡°Those I¡¯m not interested in at all. From the non-magical stones, you could put away everything, that isn¡¯t an emerald, sapphire, or aquamarine too. Let¡¯s discuss the price for the rest.¡±


    Prof first stored everything else and then looked at the pieces, the Goblin was interested in. There were only one emerald and a few sapphires and aquamarines left, for a total estimated price of a bit above eighty gold marks. Or in Earth currency, eight hundred thousand EUR or USD. If he could sell only those, the party would be set for the time! The six magical gems, still on the table, had a total value of about ten times that ¨C even if the Goblin was loaded, Prof doubted, he was able to just fork over a small fortune. Ehmm¡­ quite a large fortune.


    ¡°So, are we in agreement, that everything on the table has a value of eight hundred ninety marks?"


    Prof nodded, he calculated about the same amount.


    ¡°Eight hundred ninety-one marks, fifteen schillinge, thirty¡­"


    ¡°Yeah, we don''t need to know the exact amount, down to the last heller." interrupted Leopold. "I''m really interested in all of those, but can pay you only¡­ twenty marks in cash."


    Prof started to sweep the gems into his bag ¨C willing to pay almost nothing and having four "secretaries" as a backup could only be called robbery. If Prof had to tactically reposition himself, he wanted the gems securely in his bags.


    ¡°Wait! I can pay you only twenty marks in cash, but I can pay another twenty in goods!¡± That sounded much better, but still wasn¡¯t even close to the market value.


    ¡°Such as?¡±


    ¡°I have a house in the city, including part of the furniture, it is worth fifteen marks. I''m also the owner of part of a tailor''s shop and have quite a selection of raw textiles. Together with some other wares, that would make up another five marks."


    ¡°Even if I was willing to accept the goods as payment, that would be only forty marks instead of nine hundred. What about the rest?¡±


    ¡°Well, those are a bit more tricky. I could issue some bonds for the expedition, and could offer you some collateral for the total of, say, a hundred marks."


    Receiving bonds for some dangerous expedition, with a payout sometimes between "in a long time" and "never" was extremely interesting for Prof. Not.


    ¡°Let¡¯s calculate with the forty marks for now. Of course, I have to coordinate with my associates about accepting goods instead of money, but we will have to decline the bonds and collateral.¡±


    The buyer was visibly disappointed. What did he expect? Some dumb foreigner, who would part with his valuables for shiny baubles and colorful ribbons? Bad luck, Prof had high Intelligence, and passable [Commerce]. Certainly, there were folks with low Skill, who got swindled out of their hard work for loot. Prof wasn''t one of those. He even had a lawyer on standby!


    Retiring to another secure room, Prof explained the situation to the party and the band. They agreed not to accept the bonds, and take a look at the offered house and wares. If Prof had known, how hard is to sell the larger stones, he would have shoveled the smaller splinters into his bags instead. Or simply gold coins. What good were the large stones ¨C especially the magical ones ¨C if he couldn''t sell them? Who would have thought, that medieval societies don''t have much free money floating around?


    Leopold was willing to guide them to the house and the tailor¡¯s shop immediately, while Wilhelm and another lawyer started discussing terms. How much easier it would be to exchange ownership with just a handshake ¨C of course, that would be a sure way to be swindled. Well, even if there was an official-looking paper trail, they were still dealing with lawyers, who were part of the Thieves¡¯ not-Guild.


    The house, they were offered looked for Prof like all the other Greenskin-built monstrosities, but Wolfgang told him, it was indeed a picturesque and cozy one. Prof didn''t see the difference. He didn''t exactly want to be a home-owner in Greenskin territory ¨C mostly because of the horrendous architecture ¨C but with the house at least they could have paid Wolfgang off. Indeed, it was the local Greenskins, who were engaged in the deal, neither Mini, Bianca nor Sharpclaw was really interested, and were just there for the ride.


    The tailor''s shop and attached warehouse were a bit more interesting for Prof. The warehouse itself didn''t belong to Leopold, only part of the stored stuff ¨C food, drinks, assorted gear, and tools. According to the return his [Valuation] gave, the Goblin even undersold the value a bit.


    They soon shook on the deal and filled out the necessary documents, prepared by Wilhelm and Leopold''s lawyer. Prof made absolutely sure, there was no fine print, and everything was neat and tidy ¨C it wouldn''t be excellent to lose the stuff because of some technicality. Like the real owner knocking on the door. Prof, for some strange reason, thought that getting filthy rich ¨C as in having a lot of hard currency on hand, not wares and houses ¨C was much easier. Or should be. Kill living stuff, salvage un-living stuff, get paid or exchange the salvage for money ¨C was that so hard? So far, he was just killing living stuff for free, and no one was willing to hand over a fortune or two for shiny rocks!


    Depositing his shiny rocks somewhere safe was next on the agenda. Their latest buyer expressed his willingness for a lot of sparkling stuff to be in his possession. Everyone knew, what the fact entailed, that he was unable to do so: thieves, thugs, and other low-lives starting a new negotiation for said goods. Preferably, without paying anything in exchange. If their boss was going to be away for a long time for an expedition, it raised even more flags!

 Chapter 17: We are (finally) Adventurers!, Part 3

    As it transpired, apprentice adventurers had to complete tasks every now and then, even if they had a fabulous and magnificent wandering master as their master. Successfully complete a task, that is ¨C the accidents in the tavern meant, they weren¡¯t successful there. This fine print in the adventurer¡¯s book led Prof and the rest of the party ¨C except Mini, she was a master, after all, and did not need to do menial tasks ¨C to a slightly burned field outside of the city.


    ¡°This, my friends, is my newest invention!" Their employer, a Goblin alchemist showed a fuming Gremlin in their faces "I call it Rage-Propelled Gremlin, Version 7, or RPG-7 for short. The newest and most excellent battlefield weapon! With this, our glorious Gremliniers will have an even larger impact against those conceited, red-wearing Treesqueezers! Semi-smart, homing ammunition, with that extra Aaaargh! the normal Gremlins lacked!"


    Prof was afraid to ask but did nevertheless.


    ¡°What does it do? How does it work?¡±


    ¡°You see, normal Gremlins are just thrown at the enemy to confuse them for the few seconds it takes them to kill the critters, but the RPG-7-series isn''t so easy to kill off. After injecting them with this potion, they will go into a frenzy, home on the nearest enemy, and if they go to 0 HP, they explode. I even plan to equip them with some cheap mail for extra fragmentation effect. Or just give them a lot of nails. First, I planned the injection to be automatic by giving them collars. You just needed to pull a pin, count to three, and throw them. Unfortunately, they like to scratch themselves, and¡­ well¡­ we don''t speak about that incident."


    ¡°Anyway, my revolutionary RPG-7-Series is the ultimate thrown battlefield weapon. Ehmmm¡­ As soon as the testing is completed and the Army is willing to adopt the biology. I even plan on making a catapult-launched version! Pack a dozen pre-frenzied ones in a catapult, and launch them at the treesqueezers from outside bow range! I call the version Cluster Gremlins! If only I could build in a timer¡­"


    ¡°Anyways, testing. This is why you are here, no? Everyone, equip a Gremlin in your hand! Inject the potion! Count to three! Throw!¡±


    What weapon testing for the armed forces had to do with adventuring, you ask? Probably as much as doing the Constabulary''s job in hunting down criminals, the Forestry Service''s by killing off dangerous animals, or some random peasant''s by collecting herbs and stuff. Not much, that is. Theoretically, adventuring was all about robbing graves or finding lost archaeological sites and robbing those ¨C but wasn''t that doing the archaeologists'' job?


    Anyways, people were lazy, no matter if on Earth or Arkadia, and were willing to push hard, smelly, or dangerous work to other people to do it instead. The existence of adventurers ¨C and on the other end of the spectrum, nobles ¨C was due to this fact: outsourcing work to folks, who were dumb enough to risk their lives in the face of danger. They could wear posh clothes and adopt fancy language all they wanted.


    The adventurers, not the nobles. The latter were the ones, who pushed work on dumber folks, the former were the dumber folks, who did the work. Strange, that both adopted fancy clothes and language¡­


    While throwing the first Gremlin against popped-up pieces of armor, Prof debated, why the Guild didn''t have a rule for maximum Intelligence to join. Why would intelligent people voluntarily join an organization, that made them expendable fodder? Well, he had an Intelligence of 18 and still joined.


    The problem with the Gremlins became clear when the first pair landed between the mannequins. RPG-7s were semi-smart and homing. They were smart enough to know, the strawmen weren¡¯t real, and they homed on the nearest enemy ¨C the party. Prof also realized, why expendable fodder carried the testing out instead of highly trained (and thus expensive) military personnel. If the newest secret weapon ¡°unexpectedly¡± malfunctioned, it was easier ¨C and cheaper ¨C to replace fodder.


    Well, the frenzied Gremlins didn''t exactly malfunction, they did exactly as they should: home on the nearest enemy, claw, bite, stab, and finally explode. The slight problem was, they did it in a friendly-fire way. Or was it a friendly-gremlin way? Earth language can''t convey minute nuances of an alien planet and alien cultures¡­


    Be as it may, Prof (and Bianca, since Sharpclaw was too weak to throw Gremlins to any meaningful distance and thus was excluded from the testing) was prepared for a tough fight. Not because the semi-smart ammo had so much HP, but because he knew, Gremlins were fast and agile. And probably had a high [Evade]. Poor Bianca was probably in an even worse situation, she had to discard her shield to launch her RPG-7.


    However, it was easier, than expected. Due to them being frenzied, the Gremlins did not evade but ran straight for their targets and jumped with a blood-curdling screech at the last second. Prof''s hit launched the Gremlin backward, far enough, that the following explosion just covered him with blood and gore. Bianca received a few bruises but was otherwise uninjured.


    ¡°Excellent, excellent!¡± The alchemist finished his notes ¡°We have to be sure, there is an enemy, or the ammo will attack friendlies. That was to be expected. Hmmm¡­ We indeed need nails or something, the blast radius is too small¡­ The screech¡­ hmmm¡­ What do you think?¡±


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    ¡°With only two, it wasn¡¯t that bad. I think, if there were more, you would get an interesting psychological effect.¡± Prof answered


    ¡°Barely tolerable. If you could make it shriller, maybe even seasoned mercenaries would be unnerved.¡± Bianca added.


    ¡°Good, Good. Next test! You! Stand over there, and you, throw an RPG-7 at her! You may take your shield too."


    Selecting Bianca for a live target was probably because she was a ¡°wall¡±, as people were called, who stood firm and soaked up damage. Prof at first called them tanks, but no one understood, why he called Bianca a vessel to store fluids and gasses. Well, Mini got a laughing fit, saying, Humans were just that.


    Bianca was mostly able to deflect the flying projectile with her shield and even managed to kill a few with precise strikes. She quickly learned, however, that doing so wasn''t the best idea. Killing the Gremlins while airborne meant, she wasn''t protected from the blast by her shield, but if she deflected them first, and killed them only when they were on the ground, the shield did its job just fine.


    After almost two dozen Gremlins, she was covered from head to toe in their remains, and was panting heavily ¨C no wonder, Prof had to throw living projectiles at her as fast as he could. There were times when three Gremlins were in the air.


    ¡°Being a mercenary is less bloody and less tiring.¡± Bianca confessed ¡°And I participated in a few battles! Why are we doing this exactly?¡±


    ¡°Because we have to be adventurers to be allowed into dungeons, so we can make money.¡±


    ¡°Who told you this nonsense?¡± the alchemist asked


    ¡°Our exalted and horny Master.¡±


    ¡°She was wrong. Everyone knows, you just have to notify the Adventurer''s Guild if you want to enter a dungeon. They will just check your Character Parchment if you are excellent enough for the dungeon you want to conquer. Save for some idiotic teenagers, who want to go to higher leveled dungeons, almost no one is turned away. You only have to sell the loot at the guild."


    Who would have thought, that the Responsible and Detail-Obsessed Minerva Pannonnii would get some facts wrong? Just so she could assume her persona of wandering master, and bask in the admiration of others?


    ¡°Also, you managed to sell some of the gems! We are rich! We even have a house!¡±


    ¡°Well, Wolfgang has a house, we only have a few marks saved. That¡¯s not exactly much! We still have to buy horses, and a wagon, and food, and booze, and, and, and stuff! And tents!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, sure. Are we done yet?¡±


    ¡°No. It¡¯s time for the next phase. Please exchange places. We will see now, how someone without a shield fares against my invention!¡±


    Bianca grinned sadistically, as she prepared the first Gremlin.


    ¡°Have fun!¡±


    Prof definitely did not have fun in the next few minutes. He already knew from Bianca''s example, that hitting flying missiles wasn''t going to work out well, but without a shield, he had to be careful even with the ground-hugging ones. The only idea he came up with was to evade the incoming menace, and then kick or punt them away. It more or less worked. Of course, he had to kick the Gremlins at least two times to deplete their HP, and that took time ¨C not too long after the testing began, he was surrounded by almost ten frenzied, shrieking, clawing, biting Gremlins.


    Kicking them away didn¡¯t work.


    In order to not get overwhelmed completely, he had to start killing them in the fastest and most efficient way. And ride out the explosions. His [Acrobatics]-training finally came in handy. 59% wasn''t much, but combined with his awesome [Evade], he was able to jump or roll away from most of the explosions. Still, in the end, he was down thirty HP and was still covered in blood, guts, and bruises.


    The alchemist was deep in thought as Prof limped back to him. A bone fragment somehow found a way into his left boot.


    ¡°Ah, thank you for your assistance," the alchemist said finally "This test was more than enlightening! I have collected enough data to submit to the Army. I do think, they will adapt this new weaponry, and our glorious armed forces will be even more excellent. All of Ostwaldland should thank you! I certainly will send my recommendations to the Guild! Ah, yes, you can wash up over there."


    Washing up at a well did not help much, they were just too caked in refuse. Their clothes and armor¡­ They would need professional help with those. Luckily, both had enough sense to equip cheap clothing under their armor ¨C throwing the cheap ones away if even a master washer could do nothing was more tolerable than losing more expensive ones. Their armor, though¡­ Getting blood out of leather was easy, no?


    ¡°So, what now?¡± Bianca asked


    ¡°First, we find a bath, someone to wash our stuff, and then we will have a talk with Mini.¡±


    ¡°Do you really think, it would make any sense or difference?¡±


    ¡°No, no really. At least we could vent some frustration.¡±


    ¡°Again, do you think, it would change anything?¡±


    ¡°You are right. Let¡¯s just forget this whole debacle and the whole adventurer thing. We joined only because of faulty intel in the first place.¡±


    ¡°I may be contradicting myself, but being an adventurer does have some use."


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Ah, come on, Prof! You haven¡¯t read the adventurer¡¯s rulebook?¡±


    In fact, Prof didn''t even know, there was another rulebook. Was this one any better than the game rules, a certain incompetent clerk handed over to him as the ultimate rule set of Arkadia?


    ¡°You know, better prices at the guild shops, a bit of leeway with the guards, easier entrance to countries and towns, tax exemption¡­¡±


    ¡°Tax exemption?!?! I LOVE BEING AN ADVENTURER!¡±

 Chapter 17: We are (finally) Adventurers!, Part 4

    ¡°So, let¡¯s get this straight. There are two heavily armed and armored guards in front of the gate?¡± Prof asked Mini to clarify the situation


    ¡°Yes¡±


    ¡°What Level?¡±


    ¡°At least Level 10, but at most Level 15.¡±


    ¡°And there is no cover between them and the forest?¡±


    ¡°No, there aren¡¯t even any shadows or such.¡±


    ¡°All right, folks. I think, we should it do this way: Sharpclaw is going for a frontal assault, after that, Bianca charges in from the side, while I stay back and provide covering fire. Do you agree?¡±


    ¡°Yessss.¡±


    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t I lead the charge? My Warhog is better than her whatsitsname.¡±


    ¡°Raptor. But you get a bonus against already engaged enemies and she doesn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Oh, right.¡±


    ¡°So, this is how you want to do it?¡± Mini asked


    ¡°Yes!¡± all three agreed.


    ¡°All right, roll for initiative!¡±


    It was the day after their quest on the weapon-testing range, and Mini finally got them to play a simulation game ¨C or RPG, as Prof knew them. The party was currently located in the supposedly fictional city of Novigrad, deep in the Halitchian Empire, and was hired by a kind, elderly necromancer to rescue his daughter (a beautiful Zombie alchemist) from the evil clutches of a deplorable sect, that was trying to wipe out innocent undead. Mini, as the Game Master, was maybe a little bit biased.


    Sharpclaw was playing as a Lizardman Outrider (allegedly one of the Reptile¡¯s main shock troops), Bianca as a Goblin Hograider, while Prof rolled himself a Half-Elf Archer with secondary Skills in battle chi (to bolster his archery) and fire magic. The biggest problem with their carefully engineered characters was that they weren¡¯t Halitchians ¨C or at least Humans. While the Elves in the Domain could at least sometimes tolerate non-Elves, and just fleeced most, without kicking out too many teeth, in the Halitchian Empire non-Humans weren¡¯t considered sapient and were actively hunted or enslaved.


    Mini failed to inform them, where the campaign was located ¨C probably by mistake, but more likely, because she was Cruel. Not, that Prof or Sharpclaw would have been helped by that information much.


    The game was actually fun, even with Mini sometimes being an ass as the Game Master. Well, it was a simulation and not strictly a game. As Mini told him ¨C and which Bianca seconded ¨C the whole thing was played to test possibilities and get kids used to the System, and teach them, the world wasn¡¯t nice. Providing fun was just secondary or tertiary.


    In the end, they were able to rescue the damsel in distress, burn the sect¡¯s headquarters to the ground, collect a lot of loot, and make an enemy of the local noble. Prof¡¯s character somehow even got himself ¡°romantically involved¡± with the rescued girl. It was agreed, they would continue next week.


    Prof was curious, who would excuse themselves because something important came up?


    The next day it was time for a quick run in a nearby dungeon ¨C even if they had some money currently, a little bit extra for the running costs wasn''t a bad thing to have. It was actually Mini, who chose that particular three-floor dungeon, so to teach something to Prof. That was because the main Monsters of the dungeon: Humans.


    ¡°Why are you so surprised?¡± Mini asked him ¡°Because the monsters are Humans? Prof, your very first dungeon was populated by undead! I fail to see the difference. What does it change, if the monsters are plants, animals, undead, humans, or, say, mushrooms? The MOB is the MOB, no matter if it is a cute bunny or a sexy Human! You kill everything for loot! Besides, we are here in Greenskin lands, so locals don''t care if the MOB consists of Humans. I think, there is even a dungeon with Goblins as the main MOB somewhere here, and the locals don''t care."


    Well, Mini was right for once. Surely, some people would be offended even with plants or animals as the main MOB, and why should a dungeon care about the sensibilities of the visitors? They could neither sue nor besmirch dungeons on social media. So, why should a dungeon care?


    The entrance to the dungeon sported the usual artistically designed area, this time it resembled a stone-age camp for hunters and gatherers: dilapidated hide tents, a fire pit, and some constructions made out of branches.


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    The obligatory door to the dungeon proper was actually just a greasy hide hung in front of the cave. Either the dungeon had a very bad opinion of Humans, or was deliberately going for the stone-age feel. Or, the dungeon was so old that humans were barely better than monkeys when it started to use the new species.


    But again, a few millennia should be enough time to get more than three floors, no?


    Absolutely surprisingly, the dungeon was styled as a cave ¨C there wasn''t much choice if one was built underground. The result was either a cave, a crypt, or a shelter. The dungeon in question went the cave-way and styled it as a dwelling: open firepits, primitive structures made out of wood and hides, and a lot of primitive Humans, waving bone- and stonetipped weaponry around. Or throwing them. The whole setup was probably a wet dream for an Enthnographer, researching ?tzi''s culture. Even if said mountain corpse was from the Copper, and not from the Stone Age.


    The very first room was actually a cavern, without stalagmites, stalactites, and other wonderful cave-specific formations, save for some cages, holding wolves or dogs. Apparently, the dungeon chose an evolutionary period, where the Humans started to degenerate proud wolves into useless, overbred lapdogs, but haven''t made much inroads yet. The "dogs" present were still mostly "wolves". All six were set on the party by their handlers, the latter using shitty short bows to provide covering fire.


    Bianca was able to block three of them, although she managed only to defend, not attack. Prof, on the other hand, was in his element; happily hacking heads with the intent of Critical Hits. A long time passed since his first Dire Wolf, and these weren''t the "Dire" variation and were lower Level. Or, Prof just got that awesome. After he finished the other wolves, threatening their designated Wall, he surveyed the battlefield.


    Ehm, Battlecave.


    The aftermath of the slaughter. Either way, the two handlers were nailed by crossbow bolts, courtesy of Mini. What Sharpclaw did, Prof couldn''t ascertain, in fact, he couldn''t even see the Kobold. Which meant, she was still using [Stealth], as she used to, even in everyday life. Prof almost got a few heart attacks, when Sharpclaw suddenly appeared next to him in an empty room. It was kind of disturbing ¨C how could someone hide in an almost empty room? It was probably because of some magical shenanigans.


    The guide, they got from the Guild was exhaustive, for the first room it said, the loot consisted of dog hides, a few useful dog parts (mostly meat), soiled loincloths, crappy weapons a few bone trinkets. It was commonly agreed, the loot came up to a sum of only a handful of coppers. However, a handful of coppers was still a handful of coppers, enough to feed the three of them for a day or two. If the food for their mounts and Mini was included, it was less, but still something. Every little bit helped.


    Of course, they plundered the cavern to the last tooth. Actually, one of the bone knives was actually quite nice, with stags and plants carved into it. The knife went into the imaginary "keep" pile, right next to the dogmeat. It was free feed for their mounts and themselves ¨C and most food in Ostwaldland was dog too. Those barbarians didn''t know, what they were missing in pork!


    The second room could be described as the common room, with most firepits and constructions being located there ¨C including most of the tribe. There were four hunters with spears, another two hunters with the crappy shortbows, and two wood-hunters with stone axes. This battle was marginally more difficult, the cavemen actually had useful Skills and were able to use rudimentary tactics. That, and they were something like Humans, and so Prof did have some problems. Even after all this time, he wasn''t mentally prepared to kill other Humans, even if they were just the MOB of a dungeon.


    Being in mortal danger ¨C all right, in a marginally unsafe environment ¨C helped to overcome his blockade. Even if the cavemen had numerical superiority, and were close to their Levels (this time, Prof didn''t forget to use [Observe], most of the primitives were at Level 5), they had crappy weapons, that were mostly unable to penetrate their armor. As for armor, they had almost nothing ¨C the few scraps of fur and hide most likely couldn''t even called proper armor. At least, nothing a well-aimed Chopper or Armorbane couldn''t obliterate, including the squishy flesh underneath. This time, Sharpclaw did what she was best in: sneaking up to folks, and stabbing them in the back. She was getting more proficient in that field every day.


    The guide listed a little bit better loot for this room, but it still wasn''t much to write home about. Not a great surprise, that Stone Age cultures haven''t invented metal currency, metal jewelry, or other metal stuff after all, and processed animal parts had only just so much value. Even if they could look nice. Just to make sure, Prof looked through the whole room again, and indeed, his Scavenger sense started tinkling at an unassuming crevice at the back. Inside the crevice, hidden under some rocks, there was a tribal necklace, made of string and a collection of different, unknown teeth.


    It was even magical!


    In a game, finding a lost necklace in an unlikely place (most likely on the other side of the map) would have been an irritating side quest, with only a mug of beer as a reward, here, he didn''t even get something to drink, just a primitive piece of jewelry.


    A primitive piece of magical jewelry, to be concrete.


    They only had to find a mage to identify it. And most likely a wealthy idiot to take it off their hands. They still had to sell all those magical clothing and armor they collected back in the Valley, another unsellable piece was just increasing the ballast, they hauled around.


    The third room was rather a collection of smaller rooms or alcoves, probably as the approximation of individual bedrooms. There weren¡¯t any traps ¨C or valuable loot ¨C hidden away, only little assassins, jumping them with bone or stone knives when they least expected them. Those mini-assassins were actually a cruel move from the dungeon. Killing kids, even if they were MOB in a dungeon, wasn¡¯t just done easily. Wonder why common dungeons always used adult versions of everything. And not using Humans.


    Prof, at least, was understandably upset.


    ¡°Good, lesson learned." Mini entered her teacher mode "Don''t forget, even a kid can stick a knife in your back, shoot a crossbow, or simply rob you. Never underestimate the little buggers, they have even less control than an adult, and if you hesitate, you are dead just the same."


    That advice was cruel. True, but cruel nevertheless. Prof could live without killing off brats, even if he was now living in a backward world with different morals and slack laws and law enforcement. What would or could a true villain do in such a world?


    Luckily, he wasn¡¯t a villain, he just wanted to get rich and see the sights!

 Chapter 17: We are (finally) Adventurers!, Part 5

    The first floor''s boss was actually a collective: the chief, the shaman, and the furball, that was most likely the dogpack''s Alpha. If you coat a wrecking ball in fur, it is still a furball, no?


    Either way, the enormous furball ¨C including corresponding sized fangs ¨C launched itself directly at the party as soon as they entered the room. Bianca, however, was a good wall and intercepted it with her shield ¨C sliding back a few centimeters from the impact. The shaman, in turn, started to cast something. Not, that Prof had time to idly look at the spectacle, he had to face the chief almost immediately. The floor boss ¨C the chief, that is, all three enemies together were considered the floor boss ¨C was a good match for him. On one hand, he had a club with vicious stone splinters embedded in it, on the other hand, a long bone with a serrated edge manufactured to it.


    After subconsciously evading the double attack, Prof realized, his [Evade] was still way higher, than his [Block] or [Parry]. The muscle memory of the formed still overpowered the knowledge of the latter two. What did his teacher say? He had to make a conscious effort to use the two with such a disparity in the level of Skill.


    Fine.


    All right, conscious effort made, club blocked with Armorbane, bone sword parried with The Chopper!


    At least, that was the idea.


    The blocking went all right, but obviously, parrying a long weapon with the short Chopper wasn''t exactly a good idea. Or his Skill was too low to do it properly. Luckily, his armor deflected most of the damage. After getting the measure of the chief in a few deflected attacks, Prof realized two things. First, he forgot the use [Observe] again, and second, the chief''s Skill was markedly lower, than his own.


    He quickly observed the chief, and the intel from the guide was confirmed, he was a Level 5 Elite. Quite a low Level for a single opponent, but with the other two still a danger for dungeon runners. At least for dungeon runners, who weren''t such awesomely high Level as the party. Or so well-rounded and highly skilled.


    Well, sitting around Level 7 wasn¡¯t exactly awesomely high Level, even on Arkadia, and the party wasn¡¯t that well rounded out, with some essential positions missing, but at least they were reasonably well skilled.


    Prof, who was actually overskilled for his Level, started to use his Skill to counterattack and push the chief back. Unfortunately, his Armorbane was more or less useless against Stone Age Humans, since they hadn''t invented armor to bane yet. The chief only wore the fur of a bear or something like that. Prof refused to acknowledge the similarities. He wore pants and boots and took a bath every now or then! The difference was huge! He even spoke languages and was well-versed in the [Etiquette] of three cultures! He was almost a high socialite! At least compared to a man, who grew up in a cave and refused to ever leave it!


    Weaving through a few of the chief''s attacks, blocking and parrying a few others with Armorbane, he finally landed a Critical Hit with The Chopper. The bonuses for Critical Chance and Critical Damage came in handy, as the chief''s left arm flew off from that one hit. The damage was high enough in itself to kill the leading arm behind the cavemen tribe to collapse, dead. Prof debated to crack some puns in the line, he single-handedly defeated his first Human but refrained ¨C his friends already told him, he wasn''t exactly funny and should leave joking to Mini. True, she came in handy, when it came to joking, and was a bit touchy, if someone invaded her turf.


    By the time, Prof finished with his cave-dwelling, primitive alter-ego, the other two-thirds of the floorboss was also defeated. The wolfdog was hacked apart by Bianca and Mini, and the shaman was expertly backstabbed by Sharpclaw. Prof never learned, what the shaman was trying to cast. The guide provided a list of its favorite spells, but the exact one depended on the situation.


    Anyways, it was time for looting!


    Not, that there was much to loot. Most of the value came from the wolf-dog-thingy¡¯s fur and parts, and the chief¡¯s bear-fur. The weaponry and some knickknacks were just pocket change ¨C according to the guide, the shaman sometimes had a magical wand too, but unfortunately, the party didn¡¯t luck out this time. Even so, the salvage came up to five silver or so. Even split four ways, and not exactly much, the first floor¡¯s loot was still a welcome addition to their coffers.


    The second floor was almost a repetition of the first one, but the MOB had evolved. The cavemen entered the Copper Age there! A little less shabby structures, a little bit stronger enemies, a little bit more degenerated (but better trained) wolves, and copper weaponry.


    The dungeon obviously made an effort to follow the economic evolution too, while the first floor''s humans could only be described as normal hunters and gatherers, the Copper Age folks on the second floor had the beginnings of agriculture. Or at least, the dungeon gave them the trappings: a few patches of half-wild grain undulating in the non-existent wind.


    As it transpired, the grain wasn''t undulating, waving, and doing other things, it usually does in the wind, but was moving because the marginally better-trained almost-dogs were hiding in it, and were trying to flank the party. Cunning beasts.


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    Even if the devious almost-dogs had managed to ambush the party ¨C which they hadn¡¯t ¨C Prof and friends would have been fine. Probably. Higher Levels on Arkadia didn¡¯t mean higher Stats, but higher Skills ¨C a Level 1 dog had the same biting strength as a Level 100 dog, the latter could only bite more skilfully. The current dogs weren¡¯t even high Level ¨C Level 6 Normals ¨C and the armor, the party was wearing was by far enough to protect them from simple dogs.


    As it were, the dogs were ambushed themselves. Sharpclaw knifed one, Mini shot two others, and the other four were quickly defeated by Prof and Bianca. Four decently Skilled people with decent Levels were probably overkill for the first two floors of any dungeon, Prof was almost sure, he would be able to make a solo run at least this far, without being really in danger.


    It was interesting, however, that no coins or valuable stuff were dropped ¨C his two one-floor dungeons almost flooded him with currency, gold, and silver, but the latter two didn''t drop even one iron bit. Cheap, miserly dungeons! Not, that they had to pay from their own pockets! It was all magic! All those poor people, running dungeons, being in mortal danger, and what do they receive? Dogmeat, pelts, and junk!


    The Copper Age village in the second cavern at least gave them a little bit of workout ¨C the MOB had a modicum of tactical and weapon training, and their copper-tipped spears made them a little bit more dangerous, than the cavemen above. Oh, and some enemies even had something, that could be called armor.


    Even their marginally better gear couldn¡¯t protect them from the party basically walking over them. Sharpclaw assassinated the one present Elite, Bianca opened the way for Prof through the rudimentary phalanx the MOB put up, and as soon as he was inside the line, he wreaked havoc. He still had some inhibition against killing sapients ¨C even if they were just dumb dungeon creatures ¨C but the reason, why Mini picked this particular dungeon became clearer: she tried to build Prof¡¯s mental resistance.


    Prof wasn''t exactly sure if that was a good thing. On one hand, he was perfectly comfortable with not killing sapients, but on the other hand, Arkadia was a dangerous place, without much in the way of law enforcement protecting people camping out in the wilderness. Prof couldn''t base his continued survival on others defeating every last criminal looking his way.


    Well, anyway, at least the loot was better on the second floor. Not by much, but according to the guide, the local smiths paid good money for the copper.


    Contrary to the first floor, the second had a labyrinth with a few traps strewn around. It was time for Sharpclaw to shine. After all, it wasn''t a good idea to be illuminated while trying to sneak behind your enemy to put a dagger into his back. Finding traps was actually one of her tagged Skills, and knifing folks was just a hobby she was very good at.


    The traps weren''t exactly high-tech, nothing fancy like invisible bridges or sawblades, or even a rolling boulder, but barely concealed pitfalls (however, with strategically placed trip ropes, so an unwary adventurer would faceplant directly into the pitfalls) or big, swinging stones. It was an insult to Humanity''s ingenuity when it came to killing everything else! Prof was almost certain, that Copper Age Humans could build better traps.


    To add even more insult, the Floorboss wasn''t a Minotaur (Copper Age labyrinths came with inbuilt Minotaurs, no?), but another collective Boss in the form of three scantly clad beautiful females. True, the other humans in the dungeon weren''t overdressed either (maybe another reason, Mini chose this particular dungeon), but the three girls barely wore anything. In fact, every strip club would throw them out because of their indecency. There was probably some gimmick to it since they were alluringly wiggling on some spread-out bearskins.


    ¡°Oh, yeah, now we are talking!¡± the gimmick worked wonders in Mini¡¯s case


    ¡°Urgh¡­ Seriously? This is a disgusting display!¡± but not so much for Bianca


    ¡°Ssstab femalessss?¡± or Sharpclaw.


    As for Prof, he was intelligent and stable enough, with enough willpower (even his Character Parchment said so with the entries for Intelligence, Emotional Stability, and Willpower) to not fall into the obvious trap. Was this dungeon a pervert or an idiot? No sane person would go for a round or two in the middle of a dungeon, especially not with dungeon MOB.


    ¡°Let''s see¡­ You, the blonde. You are first. You know what, the brunette and the redhead can join in too." Well, Mini was insane. And careless, and a few other things too. Or, maybe, she was just confident enough to overpower three enemies by wrestling in the sheets.


    ¡°Yes, please, Sharpclaw. You may start stabbing. Bianca, you too.¡±


    The battle was over in only a few thrusts of hard implements ¨C the collective Boss was unarmoured, to begin with, and only had hidden knives. Prof wondered, why this Boss was responsible for most of the casualties in the whole dungeon, as the guide stated. Clearly, Ostwaldland couldn''t have that many horny teenagers to fall for the obvious!


    Well, Ostwaldland didn¡¯t have that many horny idiots. Anymore. It¡¯s called natural selection, after all.


    ¡°Why did you do that?!¡± Mini pouted ¡°I was just going to have some fun!¡±


    ¡°Miss Minerva, this is low even for you!¡± Bianca exclaimed


    ¡°You do realize, this was a trap? In a dungeon? That they were the floor boss?"


    ¡°Of course, I know! I¡¯m not stupid! However, you fail to see the point. First, I wanted to have fun. Secondly, they were relatively low-Level, I could have survived everything, they could have done. And thirdly, neither of you three were going to participate anyway, if something went wrong, you, my good apprentices, could have saved your magnificent master! They looked so sweet! You do realize, the blood of certain MOB is a delicacy? You have ruined it!¡±


    By this time, everyone knew enough of Mini to not engage in a discussion about what normal people considered a good idea. Such discussions were mostly useless and only gave the Vampire validation. And attention. Or whatever Mini was aiming at.


    With a nod, the three apprentices started to strip the room bare ¨C not that they had to do much. Especially with the Boss. The loot wasn¡¯t much ¨C skimpy ¡°underwear¡± (Mini pocketed those; they fit into a breast pocket), bone knives, and the three rugs, made of dead bears. Plus a few trinkets. It was underwhelming for such an insidious and deadly encounter¡­


    After a quick rest, they set out for the final floor.

 Chapter 17: We are (finally) Adventurers!, Part 6

    The Bronze Age. Ancient civilizations, the true birth of history as we know it. A time, when Humans set out on the road of over-engineering ¨C inventing an excellent alloy, that was used for almost seven millennia to make axes, swords, and cannons, and so making killing other Humans much, much easier. The will to make killing easier as opposed to the extra effort to make a complicated alloy, instead of just digging up a bit of the most abundant element in all the multiverses and making stuff out of it. Of course, Moronium is notoriously difficult to handle, but you could always export it to your enemies and use iron instead.


    The dungeon didn''t use iron ¨C or Moronium ¨C as the theme for the third floor but went with the classical choice, bronze. There was even a bronze vein in the very first room.


    ¡°Bronze isn''t an ore! It''s an alloy! How can there be a bronze vein here?!?" Prof exclaimed.


    ¡°How high is your [Mining] and [Smithing] again?¡± Mini asked


    ¡°Mumble-mumble.¡±


    ¡°Speak up! I can¡¯t hear you!¡±


    ¡°13% and zero¡­¡±


    ¡°See? You aren¡¯t proficient enough in either to criticize some completely natural resource node!¡±


    ¡°Sure, ok. What next? An aluminium-ore vein?¡±


    ¡°What''s aluminum?"


    ¡°Never mind¡­¡±


    The first room on the third floor was actually styled as a mine. It had bronze ore deposits (Prof still was fairly sure, that was impossible), a couple of miners, and a guard with a vicious dog. The process of degenerating wolves clearly reached a point, where the outcome was actually better than the starting point, but did not reach the lapdog phase yet. Prof wasn''t exactly sure if that particular watchdog was possible without mixing sharks, bears, and some primordial terror into a wolf, but who was he to complain? Every relevant Skill he had, was fairly low. For all he knew, the breed was absolutely normal on Arkadia.


    The MOB on the third floor was high enough Level, that the first problems started to surface. While Prof was still able to defeat the miners one-on-one, the guard was evenly matched. In Skills, that is. His gear wasn¡¯t up to Prof¡¯s stuff, especially Armorbane. No common bronze plate was up to the weapon¡¯s fantasy bullshit alloy and enchantments. The challenge was only to hit the tribal rent-a-cop.


    That was why Prof lugged Mini and Sharpclaw around: a crossbow bolt or two into the head or a dagger into the kidneys was easier done than hitting someone with an axe and achieving a Critical Hit.


    According to the guide, the bronze veins could be mined, but none of them were good enough at extracting ore from stones to give it a try. There were a few lumps of ore already mined, and the party was happy to collect them.


    The second room was again a settlement: a central stone ¡°fortress¡±, that could be called a separate room in itself, and a collection of wooden and stone houses. As they entered, the inhabitants were alerted by baying dogs ¨C so much for a surprise raid. At first, the party had to defeat unorganized ¡°civilians¡±, wielding tools, but soon the white-clad village guard arrived, advancing in a slow phalanx, supported by a couple of archers. In contrast to the other white-clad bunch of foot soldiers, these were able to hit shit. Fortunately, no one wore red shirts, or they would have been in serious trouble.


    Everyone knows redshirts die like flies.


    Defeating the trained phalanx wasn''t exactly easy even so; neither Bianca nor Prof was able to get close enough to start sending the guard back to the eternal spawning pool, nor could they maneuver into the flanks. Both sides were protected by buildings. Sharpclaw was off to off the archers, and Mini was trying to take potshots at the soldiers. Cute little Binky was sorely missed. Normally, they would just send the over-leveled (and slightly overweight) scorpionlizard in to have an early dinner. This was probably another of Mini''s lessons: don''t count on your cheat power to save the day every time. Especially, if your cheat power was another person''s mount.


    It took a few minutes for Sharpclaw to neutralize the back row ¨C a long enough time for Prof to collect a few wounds. Obviously, if you try to plow through a row of spears, not even good armor is sufficient to get out unhurt. Probably it was this little bit of effect, Humanity kept using long pieces of wood with pointy metal tips on at least one end for a couple of millennia. Polearms and phalanxes (however they were actually named) had one inherent weakness: if a stealthy Kobold arrived from behind, even the best phalanx was prone to be annihilated.


    Well, the stealthy Kobold managed to annihilate exactly one spear-wielding guard, before a powerful kick of another sent her flying. This revealed the inherent weakness of stealthy Kobolds as military units: if they met an armored boot, they were prone to be annihilated.


    The gap in the line was large enough, however, for both Bianca and Prof to slip inside the spears, and start rolling up the front. Not, that there was much of a ¡°front¡± there ¨C only three guards on each side. Even that decreased to two on each side within seconds: one on Bianca¡¯s side was finally headshot by Mini, and Prof used Armorbane on the one, that kicked Sharpclaw. The rest was actually hampered now by their spears, so the legendary Battle of the Third Floor concluded in short order.


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    Prof raced over to Sharpclaw to check on her but found her just sitting next to a building.


    ¡°You all right?¡±


    ¡°Ssssurvived kick barely. Ssssaved by Perk.¡±


    Oh, her Cheat Power: Blessed Life. If not for the Perk¡¯s mysterious effect of protecting someone from instant death every now or then, they would be short a Kobold already. Prof handed her a few Health Potions and turned back to their gains.


    With the new loot ¨C spears and bronze armor ¨C they started to have problems. Namely, they had only Prof''s Girly Backpack of Holding, two normal backpacks, and a few smaller pieces. It was simply impossible to fit every last piece of loot into their packs. Or, as in the case of the spears, do anything with them. Although Bianca wasn''t bad with polearms, she was still better with swords, and her sword was way better than the dungeon loot. It took them almost an hour to dismantle most of the weapons, throwing the handles away and only keeping the heads. Since the bronze armor was more valuable than most clutter they were hauling around, a good part joined the handles in the discard pile. Even so, they could only find space for only two sets. The rest they were lugging around in their hands.


    Prof debated if hiring a baggage carrier would be profitable. They could loot more but would have to pay the person. He needed to make inquiries, as soon as they got back to the city.


    Even without much space, they decided to continue the run to the end. There wasn¡¯t much left, only the central ¡°fortress¡±, another labyrinth ¨C this time, styled as a crypt ¨C and the last boss.


    The "fortress" had three Elite guards (Level 7), an Elite mage of some kind (Level 8), and one of the most deadly military units known across all the multiverses: a maid. Prof was terrified. With a maid on the opposite team, they had no chance whatsoever, they were going to be killed off in a matter of seconds! No one could stand against a maid! No matter, how good Shaprclaw was at stabbing people, what kind of sharpshooter Mini was, or how excellent Prof was at bashing heads, it was a maid!


    Well, not exactly. The guide clearly stated that the maid wasn''t a hidden infiltrator with a fantasy alloy endoskeleton and mimetic skin, but a female with a very high Skill in cleaning, serving alcohol, and poisoning people. In fact, she didn''t even had the customary French maid uniform, just the normal, undyed clothes, everyone on the third floor wore.


    Just to be absolutely sure, Mini shot her in the face twice.


    The mage didn''t have a chance either; as Prof learned, it was hard to cast spells, when you had a knife in your lungs. Who would have thought? Killing off the Elite guards was actually hard. They outskilled both Bianca and Prof, the two apprentice adventurers could do nothing more than defend. With the constricted space, Mini couldn''t use her crossbow and had to help the other two out in close-quarter fighting. The stalemate was broken when Prof finally managed to land a lucky hit after one of the guards tripped on their dropped loot.


    Sometimes it was good to haul around a ton or two of clutter. Mostly, if you drop it at the feet of your enemies before start fighting them.


    The loot this time consisted of the guard''s gear, two magical amulets from the mage, and half a liter of poison from the maid. Not counting a jug of wine from the same source. Also, they plundered the "fortress" bare ¨C including a full set of very nicely done bronze tableware, that they elected to keep, and a few ceramic vases (red figures on black background. Bianca blushed, seeing the depictions). Prof also found a rusty nail, sticking out of a beam. He took that too.


    The labyrinth was a bit harder and bigger than the one on the second floor, with marginally better traps. Prof thought a party without a dedicated trapsniff would have been in some trouble ¨C anyone, who made it so far, would have survived the traps, but they would have been annoying nonetheless. In his opinion, the labyrinth was more spooky than dangerous. For example, when a mummified corpse just fell on one of them ¨C it was NOT Prof ¨C the poor person ¨C who was definitely NOT Prof ¨C let out a very girly sounding scream. The person, who was, absolutely NOT Prof, almost got a heart attack, and almost soiled his pants. Since the person was honestly not Prof, the pronoun "his" is just a mistake by the author.


    After Mini finished laughing, she helped Prof to his feet. Since, well, he slipped in a completely unrelated accident.


    At least they managed to liberate some bone, copper, and bronze trinkets from the occupants of the labyrinth. Prof estimated the aggregate value at a silver or two, but every little bit helped in postponing poverty.


    It was finally time for the floor boss and as such concluding their voyage through Human technological evolution. The Boss, this time, wasn''t a collective one, but a lone specimen, dressed up as a king ¨C a king of a Bronze Age kingdom, that is, or how the dungeon imagined it, at least. His undyed clothes had some stripes, he had a lion skin on his back (the head functioning as a helmet), and a circlet, as a representation of a crown. As soon as the party entered the throne room, he stood up and grabbed a spear and a shield. There wasn''t a lengthy monologue, just an immediate charge.


    Bianca successfully blocked, but was sent flying. Probably they shouldn''t have picked a smallish girl as their wall, physics worked on Arkadia too. Unfortunately, Bianca was the closest to actually knowing anything about blocking and defending, so they had to stick with her as the wall. Mini''s bolts uselessly clattered against the Boss'' shield, and Sharpclaw wasn''t able to get behind the boss, so it was up to Prof to defeat a Level 10 Boss.


    The idea was to block the spear with Armorbane ¨C since the boss wasn''t wearing armor ¨C and let loose with The Chopper. Basically, the idea was sound, the only problem was his low [Parry] and [Block]. With the unusually large difference to [Evade], he had to consciously concentrate on blocking or parrying, instead of just jumping around. One missed parry instantly shaved half of his HP away ¨C all he could show in return was a small hit, and even that wasn''t Critical. It was clear, he couldn''t survive a battle of attrition, the Boss simply had too much HP. As it was, he needed a shot HP-potion fast ¨C another hit, and he was done. However, getting a pottery shot glass (glass was too expensive) out of his bandoleer, uncorking it, a drinking the potion required a free hand. Both of his were occupied with his weapons.


    Before he had to disarm himself, Bianca and Mini arrived.


    Ganging up on the Floor Boss was easy after that. It only took a quarter of an hour before the boss finally succumbed to a serious iron (and fantasy metal) poisoning.

 Chapter 18: That time, you were reincarnated and slimed, Part 1

    ¡°What are you looking for?¡± Mini asked Prof, who was crawling around the final room, looking into every nook and cranny.


    ¡°One of the figurines, I¡¯m collecting for a time now.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you mean that collection quest? The only one system-sanctioned quest known?¡± Mini asked. ¡°You do know, you have to meet prerequisites to find one of the figurines?¡±


    ¡°Really? I did three dungeons previously, and all three dropped one on the first try.¡±


    ¡°Really. You have to completely clear the dungeon on your very first try, and you have to do it solo. Even so, it depends on Luck, if you find one. Probably your Scavenger Perk helped you.¡±


    ¡°What happens if you collect every part?¡±


    ¡°Dunno. Probably you would get a full set. I think, no one ever collected every part. And only those parts count, you get directly from a dungeon. For example, the pieces you found in the ruins of¡­ whatsisname¡­ don¡¯t count. Neither would it count, if I gave you my pieces.¡±


    ¡°You do the quest too? Why don¡¯t you do solo runs then?¡±


    ¡°It''s too much of a hassle. If you are too high Level, the dungeon wouldn''t drop a piece, so I would need to do three-floor dungeons to get one. My duke has almost two-thirds of the pieces, but he too gave up on the quest. Finding dungeons, that are high enough, isn''t exactly easy."


    ¡°So, the whole quest is useless?¡±


    ¡°No, not exactly. The pieces still have value for collectors.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I came up on one of those pieces once. Sold it for quite the money.¡± Bianca added. ¡°If you are done snooping around, can we go already?¡±


    ¡°Sure. Are you finished with everything else? Haven''t left anything behind?"


    ¡°No, we have even packed up that decorative plant. What is it anyway?¡±


    ¡°According to my [Herbology] and [Alchemy], it is a miniature Baobab tree. The leaves can be used for medicine.¡±


    ¡°Strange, that you know the uses of such an exotic plant, but are clueless about other, local stuff.¡±


    Prof didn¡¯t have an answer to that question, although he noticed similar issues for a few other of his Skills. For example, he knew of a monster, that he was almost certain, lived exclusively on Chimeria, but drew a blank on the two-named dinosaurs in Willowflower, which were allegedly all around Fenria. If not for those nice Elves, he wouldn¡¯t even know their names! Or for how much people were fined for hunting them.


    It was probably a bug in the System, with the install wizard already preparing to launch an update. Most likely at the most inopportune moment, right before he saved an important file, he had been working on for hours. Without saving.


    On the way back to Sumpfigerort, Prof finally found time to look at Sleepy¡¯s Character Parchment. Without Mini¡¯s help, he would have never found it, or figured out, how to access it in the first place. Of course, the Vampire waited until Prof grew frustrated with finding it, and asked her. The access was well-hidden: he had to concentrate in a certain way on ¡°Perks¡± of all things to bring up the ¡°Pets and Mounts¡± sub-menu, where he had to concentrate in a certain way to navigate to Sleepy. It was needlessly complicated, and no non-native person would find it there. Why couldn¡¯t the Administrator put it in its own, easy-to-find location?


    Oh yeah, probably because the Administrator was a jackass or an idiot.


    As Prof found out, his Nightmare''s parchment was quite different from his. The Stats were the same one he, and probably every other lifeform on Arkadia had ¨C after all, every last one was needed to describe a being. Sleepy had Perks too, however, most were linked to the species, and for the rest, Prof got the distinct feeling, they were "selected" from a very shallow pool. The biggest difference was in Skills. The Nightmare had only a few. [Attack], [Defence] and [Navigation] being the highest.


    ¡°Say, Irresponsible and Cruel adventuring master of ours, how comes, that Sleepy has so few Skills? I thought the Character Parchments and the System were universal."


    ¡°It''s ''Fabulous and Magnificent'', never forget it, moronic and clueless apprentice of mine! What do you think, a mount would do with a separate [Swords] Skill, or [Architecture]? Or any of the Skill, you need hands for? Mounts, monsters, and animals simply don''t need most of the Skills you do ¨C not, that you are very good in quite a few ¨C so the Heavenly Game Master simply omitted them. Or locked them down, or something. I heard about a rat, that somehow got [Cooking], so the Skills are most likely present, but can''t be accessed."


    ¡°A rat as a cook? I don¡¯t think, I would like to eat in that place¡± Bianca interjected


    ¡°You see, the rat was quite good in cooking, and it disguised itself as a¡­ some kind of small sapient. Unfortunately, it got eaten by a random patron, mistaking it for the main dish. Or so the story goes.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s disgusting!¡± Bianca exclaimed


    ¡°Yeah, can you believe it? Killing someone without motive, just because of stupidity?!? If the food had been bad, I would have understood it, but so?¡±


    ¡°I meant, eating a rat.¡±


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    ¡°Ratssss tasssty.¡±


    ¡°Anyways, Skills¡­?¡±


    ¡°Oh, yeah. Our belowed pets simply don¡¯t need most of them, and since they mostly don¡¯t have the necessary Intelligence or sapience, or whatever, the Points are distributed automatically. Or something like that. If I¡¯m right ¨C and I¡¯m always right, don¡¯t forget it ¨C it is possible for the owner to distribute the Points manually, if she has a high enough [Animal Training]. Or the pet is loyal enough. Or something.¡±


    ¡°Do you do it for Binky?¡±


    ¡°Naw, I don¡¯t see the point. Binky is good at munching on things, why make the hassle.¡±


    Mini probably didn''t have the Skill on a high enough Level or didn''t meet the prerequisites, but Prof wasn''t ready to point it out to the Vampire. First, he was a Gentleman, and pointing out their weaknesses to proper ladies wasn¡¯t very gentlemanly. Even if Mini could hardly be called a proper lady, Prof didn¡¯t do it, because, secondly, pointing out their weaknesses to Narcissistic people was a good way to start a fight.


    The closer they got to Sumpfigerort, the more Greenskins they saw running around and preparing for something. Did the uproar in the capital already reached here? Was Wolfgang going to do another concert? Were aliens invading? Or was it time for the yearly Sumpfigerort-Leberpf¨¹tze bloodball match? As far as Prof heard, that was a classic, including a carefully organized riot.


    As they found out as soon as they arrived at the Adventurer¡¯s Guild, it was even more sinister, than aliens invading.


    ¡°We have an insidious and surreptitious slime outbreak! You valiant and indefatigable adventurers are drafted for the invincible and indomitable rapid-reaction teams! Prepare!"


    To Prof¡¯s utter surprise, neither of his party members started arguing, that they just returned from an excursion into a lifelike recreation of Human technological evolution, but dumped their loot into a corner, and started preparing. Even Sharpclaw, who didn¡¯t speak Greenskinian, and probably didn¡¯t understand, what happened. Neither did Prof.


    ¡°What''s the matter? Why is everyone behaving like it is the end of the world? It''s just slimes."


    ¡°EXACTLY! It is Slimes!" Bianca was frantically checking her gear. Prof still didn''t understand. Why get their knickers in a twist just because of the most basic, laughable monsters there were? Slimes were so basic, that even kids could exterminate them! Every last story he read said so! They were so basic, even his low [Monsterology] failed to give knowledge!


    ¡°Bia, my dear, you forget, Prof isn¡¯t from here, and he can be dumb as fuck.¡± Mini came to his rescue. If calling him an idiot could be considered a rescue.


    ¡°You see, Prof, Slimes are a scourge. Some scientists speculate they were created as a weapon by one of the precursor species in the dawn of time, and no one was able to get rid of Arkadia of them. There are very few rules, that everyone abides by. Next to killing off Heroes as soon as possible and not using them in any capacity are slime outbreaks. If one happens in the middle of a war, an immediate cease-fire is called, and both sides work together to stop those monsters."


    ¡°Yes, every toddler knows that! Report the Hero¡¯s Party, kill Slimes. Failing to do either¡­ well, you will be dead either way.¡±


    ¡°But they are just small blobs of¡­ slime. What¡¯s so dangerous about them?¡±


    ¡°They eat literally everything. Animals, trees, grass, each other. They leave a wasteland behind.¡±


    ¡°Miss Minerva is right. My mercenary company had once had the misfortune to take part in an extermination campaign. You see, Slimes are born from pools of Goo. If you don''t manage and suppress the pools, Slimes are going to come out. The more they devour, the stronger they get. They evolve! A strong enough Slime becomes a Jelly, then a Jam, a Marmalade, a Pudding¡­"


    Prof was getting, for some absolutely unexplainable reason, hungry.


    ¡°¡­ and then they enter the truly horrifying territory. I don¡¯t know the proper names for the next stages, we referred to those as ¡®Call-the-Heavy-Infantry¡¯, ¡°Get-the-Mages¡¯, ¡°Meteorblitzkrieg-Now!¡¯ and ¡°Everyone-Run-For-Your-Lives!¡¯. I only met one of the first, that was enough.¡±


    ¡°Speaking of Jam, Marmalade and Pudding. Do they also evolve into a cake?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not funny, Prof. Never joke about Slimes.¡± Mini was curiously tense ¡°Besides, Cakes are a completely different kind of monster. They are a kind of Mimic, related to Brownies and Biscuits. At home, we keep them in the kitchens, both as traps for burglars and for disposing of kitchen waste. And, in a pinch, you can eat them too.¡±


    The infodump Prof received was enough to raise his [Monsterology] by 2%. All in one go! Why had he paid exorbitant sums for trainers and teachers, if a short conversation with his friends provided the same for free? Most likely, there were other things in play, not just raw mathematics. It was getting tiresome, every time he started to understand the System, something new came up. He needed a Rulebook ¨C the real one, not a simplified version, made for entertainment. If he remembered correctly, Foxy said something about scientific versions being around. Prof assumed, he needed to visit some kind of university, research institute, or a big pharma corporation. Or the hidden vaults of any government.


    Unfortunately, Sumpfigerort didn''t have any of those. Maybe it had a hidden government vault, but if so, it was well hidden and unknown to Prof.


    Strange, that hidden government vaults weren¡¯t advertised to foreigners¡­


    It took a few hours for the rapid reaction teams to assemble. Everyone was handed a few potions ¨C mediocre HP, and acid resistance ones ¨C which was highly welcome because during the dungeon run, they had used up quite a few of their own. The Guild obviously was keen on building balanced strike teams; Prof''s party ¨C or rather Mini''s, since she was the master adventurer ¨C was assigned an offensive magic user. A Dwarf, of every possible species.


    Their new companion was vertically challenged with only around a hundred and twenty centimeters low, with pale grey skin and red eyes ¨C red, as in the whole eye was red, the pupil and iris were just slightly different reds.


    ¡°Greeting, esteemed, glorious, and courageous colleges!" the dwarf intoned in passable Greenskinian "This humble one''s self-chosen designation is Catapult Winespitter. You can address me as Cat."


    Remembering a months-old conversation, Prof had to admit, that the Dwarves indeed had an awful sense of naming. Not, that the official name was much better. According to its Character Parchment, the name was M¨¢sodikm?szak M¨¦lyt¨¢rnab¨¢ny¨¢sz 34062CA-666/FFF Sorozat. In comparison, Catapult Winespitter was immeasurably better, and with that Extreme Alcohol Intolerance of it, probably also fitting. Strangely, the self-designation was in Bergian.


    Since it was an adventurer, the costume it wore was understandable: a high, pointy hat (it was half as high as the dwarf!) with a huge rim, and decorated with ¨C probably ¨C arcane signs. For all Prof knew, it could have been the phonebook for a Dwarven city. Outside of the hat, it wore bright green, slightly see-through robes, also decorated with the same symbols and frilly leather sandals.


    What wasn¡¯t exactly understandable was the ankle-length fake beard. It was pink, for some reason too.

 Chapter 18: That time, you were reincarnated and slimed, Part 2

    At least it was a mage, something they were solely missing since¡­ well, forever. And it was good. Very good in fact. As a Level 11, it had [Magic: Poison] and [Magic: Radiation] tagged and at 250%, [Magic: Emotions] at 150%, and [Magic: Geomancy] and [Magic: Fire] at 125% each. The other Skills were also well-rounded, even things, that were theoretically outside of a mage''s usual skillset received more, than a splattering of Skill Points.


    It was possible to roll a mage on Arkadia! Maybe Prof should have done so from the beginning, figuring out the intricacies of magic, unearthing long-lost mysteries, and becoming a truly formidable glass cannon. Ehm¡­ Glass Trebuchet.


    Naw!


    Everyone knew mages weren''t glass siege weapons early on, but just squishy glass! To get rid of the squishiness, he would have to invest heavily into [Heavy Armor] and into heavy armor. With the prices of those pieces¡­ No wonder, no mage could afford them!


    ¡°Finally a mage!¡± Prof exclaimed, after finishing with ¡°Cat¡¯s¡± parchment. Giving extra care to suspicious Skills ¡°Now we can blast enemies from a distance!¡±


    ¡°Dear, intrepid and fearless adventurer apprentice! This magicious and esoteric one isn¡¯t a mage, but a witch, as the translucent and diaphanous clothing implies! And the hat.¡±


    Prof really started to get fed up with the ridiculous and hilarious way, the esteemed and honored adventurers were speaking.


    ¡°What¡¯s the difference?¡± that question earned him a pedagogical hit on the head from Mini. One HP gone¡­


    ¡°Did the apprentice adventurer grow up in a minacious and solitary cave? Or was he hit on the head?"


    ¡°Yeah, I was hit on the head right now. And no, I haven¡¯t met that many magic users till now.¡± Not counting a traitorous and treacherous Special Agent and that other guy from Willowflower. What was his name? Small Deer? Whatever.


    ¡°I can teach him the essentials later, I¡¯m his adventuring master, after all!¡± strangely, Mini was just jealous, and wasn¡¯t trying to seduce or scandalize their newest friend. Oh yeah, Dwarves did not have genders, that¡¯s the reason! Probably.


    ¡°Cat" gave a curious look to the most astute and skilled adventuring party there ever was, but shrugged in the end. They had Slimes to kill, not figuring out the mental challenges others faced.


    On the way to the infested zone ¨C almost a day¡¯s walk to the West, but the Guild provided transport for the pedestrians, so the voyage took¡­ almost one day, but was more comfortable ¨C Mini finally explained the differences between the distinct schools of magic.


    ¡°See, there are wizards, mages, sorcerers, witches, and warlocks. They are different in different ways.¡± Surprisingly, Mini wasn¡¯t exactly a good teacher.


    ¡°And war mages, shamans, druids, and hexers too." Bianca helpfully added


    ¡°Sssspirittalkersss. Ssssagesss.¡± even Sharpclaw added his two iron bits


    ¡°And all those differ from each other in¡­?¡±


    ¡°Different ways.¡±


    ¡°Very different ways.¡±


    ¡°Wayssss.¡±


    ¡°But what are those ways?¡±


    ¡°Mostly clothing. And the sizes and shapes of their magic rods." Mini finally cleared up the mystery "Witches wear pointy hats, mages flat ones, warlocks wear all black, and sorcerers dress extra fancily."


    ¡°This one feels an excessive and throbbing ache of the head approaching, just by listening to you. Were you hit on the head too?" "Cat" decided to enter the discussion.


    ¡°No, it''s just Prof. He is contagious. You hang around long enough, you will see him saving damsels in distress ¨C not, that he does anything with them afterward ¨C and you will feel an overwhelming urge to participate in idiotic banter." Mini reassured it.


    ¡°HEY!¡±


    ¡°Why, it is true!¡± Bianca came to their party leader¡¯s help ¡°I have known you for what, a bit more, than a month, and how many ridiculous situations have you dragged me into already?¡±


    ¡°Not that many¡­¡±


    ¡°Yeah, only the Hags, and the concert!¡±


    ¡°Tesssting Gremlinsss. Kitchen disssassster. Sssslimessss.¡±


    ¡°Well, thank you, Sharpclaw. The banter is only an outlet for surviving everything you dragged us into!¡±


    ¡°Now I¡¯m sad.¡±


    ¡°Don''t be, cutie! You are still funny, and we still like you! All those funny, exciting, and awesome adventures that are just happening near you! I will never leave you!" Mini even blew a kiss to him.


    ¡°Esteemed and honored adventuring colleagues, I think, there is a saying for just a situation like this: Get a room, please."


    ¡°Congratulation, ehmmm¡­ Miss? Cat. You contracted Idiotic Banter from Prof! We are always this way. No, Miss Minerva is even worse alone. But we don¡¯t talk about that. What happens with Miss Minerva, stays with Miss Minerva.¡±


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    ¡°There is no Perk like Idiotic Banter!¡± Prof protested.


    ¡°Sure it is. Check on page 141 in Supplemental Rules on Perks!¡±


    ¡°Fine, I will check it later. But that is just a rulebook for a simulation game, not the real rules for Arkadia. Aaand, I definitely don¡¯t have that Perk! Hah!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a hidden Perk, like the speculated legendary Utter Moron.¡±


    ¡°But¡­ Hey, wait a minute! It has to be Mini! I was completely fine before she showed up! The banter started after we picked her up!"


    ¡°No, Prof, there isn¡¯t a Perk, Idiotic Banter! It¡¯s all my sunny, shining personality! Do you claim, I¡¯m less than perfect, and contracted Idiotic Banter somewhere? A Perk, that does not exist, by the way?"


    ¡°When you say idiotic banter, it does sound like Idiotic Banter¡­¡±


    ¡°Please stop! My head hurts!¡±


    At least "Cat" finished talking in Adventurerian. Prof started to suspect, there was a Skill [Subculture: Adventurers]; differentiating between all those archetypes for clothing, talking in strange ways, and behaving strangely ¨C there wasn''t a chance, that idiot of Administrator hadn''t made it into a Skill too. After checking with Mini, he found out, that indeed, there was such a Skill, and Mini had it on 71%. Scary to think, what a grandmaster in it could do and know¡­


    ¡°So, back to the differences. Cat, care to elaborate?"


    ¡°Well, it mostly comes down to philosophy. Witches, for example, try to see the beauty in everything and poison the rest. Mages are more academic, try to learn about secrets, and burn everyone else, sorcerers think, they are the pinnacle of creation and call lightning to the rest. The clothing worn signifies the differences in philosophy."


    ¡°See, I told you, it comes down to fancy clothes!¡±


    ¡°ANYWAYS¡­ The different types prefer different schools of magic. Witches specialize in [Magic: Emotions], [Magic: Illusions], [Magic: Dream], [Magic: Healing] and [Magic: Poison]."


    ¡°But you have only two of those.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a Deviant Dwarf. And a deviant witch. Got a problem with that?¡±


    ¡°No, of course not! Ehmmm¡­ I can figure out most of your magical Skills from the name, but what does [Magic: Radiation] do?" Prof skilfully changed the topic. Well, he was interested in the answer to his question too ¨C radiation magic in all its possible versions was a little bit inconsistent in his previous readings. It either was a brilliant light or¡­


    ¡°Oh, it is my pride and joy! It has to do with different kinds of invisible energy¡­ rays. If they are strong enough, they can make things die in horrible ways, or mutate them very swiftly!¡±


    ¡­ hard radiation. Hopefully, the Administrator haven¡¯t read about glowing spiders biting photographers, or scientist being too close to ground zero.


    ¡°I once made a nice glowing spider! I kept it in a glass jar, it was very good for illumination! Unfortunately, it escaped in a painter¡¯s gallery. Couldn¡¯t find it. Hope, it is well.¡±


    So much for that.


    ¡°Is that magic good against Slimes?¡±


    ¡°I don''t know. Everyone agrees on fire is the best thing, and no one should use poison on them. It makes them just poisonous, but don''t kill them."


    ¡°Well, let¡¯s not experiment with [Magic: Radiation] on them, then.¡± Prof shuddered at the thought of a horde of radioactive, mutated slimes.


    ¡°Why not? It sounds like fun, and what could possibly go wrong? Hey, Cat, did someone experiment with that on Undead? It sounds like even more fun!¡±


    ¡°No! No one did experiments EVER on Undead with that kind of magic. The Glowing One incident is just a malicious fabrication of jealous mages, who specialize in darkness magic! Oh, look, a tree!"


    It is a well-known fact, that if someone points something out, everyone will look at that thing out of reflex. It was done this time too. The tree in question was indeed a very nice specimen of an alder with wonderful yellow leaves. The background consisted of a few low hills, clad in green-, yellow-, brown- and blue-leaved trees, shrubs, and weeds. A Skilled painter could have made a famous (and thus, very valuable) painting out of it.


    Prof regretted again, that he simply could not spare the Skill Points for [Art: Painting].


    Oh, wait! Cat successfully changed the topic! And distracted everyone.


    Cat was talking with them for only a few minutes, and already adopted to their habits, while forgetting all the adventurer lingo. Maybe Mini''s idea with the contagious Perk wasn''t far off. On the other hand, it was possible, that Cat thought that they were complete idiots, and lowered her standards to that sub-level. Like you do it with kids.


    Anyways.


    Arriving at the gathering point for the rapid reaction teams, Prof and his party had a pleasant surprise: Wolfgang and Mythrillhead were already there, and were providing background music. Of course, they were playing Mythrill. The adventurers took to Mythrill like debt to a Central European. Stuck and never to be removed.


    Interestingly, a few adventurers wore wigs and were headbanging to the amazement of everyone else. It was a surreal experience: a female orc in an evening gown, and a male Goblin in a pseudo-baroque uniform was right next to a female Hob, wearing artfully torn skimpy clothes, and a male Orc cosplaying as a pirate, all four with long wigs headbanging right in front of Mythrillhead. All the while a whole cosplay-con was watching with rapt attention.


    Adventurers were crazy ¨C well, it was in the job description. No sane person would do the stuff they did for that money.


    Prof was glad, he wasn¡¯t responsible for the whole thing. Adventurer clothing was around for a long time, and Wolfgang found the new music absolutely on his own! Yes sir! In order to escape Bianca¡¯s judgmental gaze, he quickly pointed out a random tree ¨C this time it was a pine, growing in a weird way ¨C and quickly made his way backstage.


    He found himself a drink and started thinking. Why were all these things happening to him? It was almost like some bored asshole was finding new ways to throw him under the wagon time and again! He just wanted to enjoy his new life, get rich, and see the sights, not running all over Arkadia, fouling conspiracies, finding legendary lost treasures, and such! Well, finding lost treasure wasn''t a bad thing, unfortunately, he had to pay taxes after the pieces he managed to hang onto. It was robbery!


    Well, if he was in a trashy fiction, at least some people would have a good time, reading about his heroic exploits ¨C but he was just in another reality, and no one would even find out, what he had done. It was probably better so¡­

 Chapter 18: That time, you were reincarnated and slimed, Part 3

    The next day, the rapid reaction teams ¨C reinforced by local volunteers ¨C started to comb through the countryside for slimes. The combing was done in order to find detached lonely Slimes since finding the main horde wasn''t exactly hard. An undulating wave of slime in the middle of a lifeless desert wasn''t easy to overlook. That begged the question, of how the outbreak could happen in the first place.


    Probably it was the responsibility of the state to look after the Goo, and there were rules for public procurement, controlled from the centre, and by the time the needed forms were filled out and the money transferred, the original issue resolved itself a year ago. But again, Ostwaldland wasn''t modern Europe, so it was probably just normal pseudo-medieval carelessness.


    Either way, Prof¡¯s party ¨C reinforced by five representatives of the local agrarian proletariat, wielding repurposed farming implements and spears ¨C made its way slowly to the actual frontline. The Greenskins had a strict procedure in place for such an outbreak, the teams were to advance in a line and wait for each other. No glorious ¨C and doomed ¨C charges were taking place. Bad luck for future poets, but good news for the grunts on the ground, doing the actual dangerous work.


    Not, that mopping up stragglers was exactly dangerous work, as long as no one got Slime on their faces. Normally, that particular danger was only present for vertically challenged folks, and the Greenskins were excellent enough for the local defense volunteers to not send Goblins to the frontline. Prof''s party, on the other hand, had a Dwarf and a Kobold. Neither species was known for its excessive vertical dimensions.


    Sharpclaw was quick enough to not be endangered by lowly Slimes ¨C she even managed to backstab one or two blobs. Prof refused to ask, how exactly that was done, simply to keep his sanity intact.


    Cat, on the other hand, wasn¡¯t so well endowed in the Agility- and Dexterity-department ¨C strangely, its Stats weren¡¯t significantly lower, than Sharpclaw''s, and its defending Skills were about the same. Why Cat faceplanted right on a Slime, had no definitive, System-based reason. It could have something to do with its overly long fake beard, though. Even if everyone donned their normal battle gear, Cat stubbornly refused to put the beard somewhere safe. "A proper Deviant Dwarf has to have a beard" was the reasoning. That innocent and logical answer sparked another round of innocent, logical, and mature discussion on the advantages and disadvantages of wearing long beards when in danger of getting Slime, Jelly, Marmalade, and other viscous foodstuff on one''s face.


    ¡°Ditch it, you just endanger yourself, Miss? Cat!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, it looks ridiculous and comical.¡±


    ¡°Dwarvessss sssstupid.¡±


    ¡°Esteemed adventurer! It is pink! Pink is almost red ¨C are you a redcap to wear almost red?" Even their henchmen butted in.


    ¡°You are stupid! This is cultural!¡±


    ¡°Cat, could you at least shorten it? Say, to your waist?¡± Prof was gentlemanly aiming for a compromise ¡°And maybe in a colour that could not be mistaken for red?¡±


    ¡°No! This is cultural, and it has to look like this! The beard is practically new! I hate you!¡±


    Right after the faceplanting issue ¨C well, not exactly right after it, first came a bit of screaming, a lot of bits of burning things to ashes, and applying de-sliming potions to the face ¨C Cat acknowledged the dispensed wisdom of such a well-traveled, admirable and experienced party of awesome adventurers. A knife was taken to the beard immediately after the screaming and burning was done.


    It still reached Cat''s knees, but at least the chance of being tripped was lowered to reasonable levels. The volunteers still eyed the color suspiciously, though.


    It took a few hours to comb through the fields and bushes until the rapid reaction force reached the true frontline. For some reason, Prof thought, it would look like a medieval melee, tightly packed infantry on one side, and a wall of slime on the other.


    Well, it wasn¡¯t.


    It was more-or-less a staggered skirmish line, the parties and their local volunteers banded together, with fifty or so meters distance between each cluster. Behind the gaps in the first line were other groups ¨C mostly lower-levelled parties and the bulk of the volunteers ¨C and behind them the support groups. Musicians, archers, healers, and the artillery, the dedicated mages. Finally, the reserves, namely Hog Raiders and heavy infantry from the regular army and a few master (and high)-level adventurers.


    The tide of slime wasn''t advancing in a solid wall either ¨C clumps of Slime or a few evolved specimens on their own or in small groups was what the front had to defeat. It was made clear to everyone that if a Marmalade or anything more dangerous approached, it was to be let through, so the third line ¨C or, in case the truly devastating versions showed up, the Army ¨C could deal with them. Mostly by glassing the neighborhood.


    Prof and his party ¡°only¡± had to slaughter the riff-raff.


    It was a pity, that Arkadia didn''t work on the kill count of low-level critters; Prof found himself in a target-rich environment. On any other world, he (and everyone else) probably would have gathered at least a few Levels. Assuming, the jealous, thoughtless, and over-leveled seniors didn''t just swoop in for a kill-steal, or obliterating swathes of critters, they didn''t get any EXP for, but denying the grunts every last morsel. Well, every world has its own advantages and disadvantages.


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    Arkadia, for example, had the grunts do the dirty work, without the benefit of EXP for hundreds of Slimes killed off. Probably it was like this everywhere (and definitely on Earth); benign overlords couldn¡¯t be bothered with tasks, they could pawn off to someone else.


    Prof was technically a simple grunt ¨C no one was interested in him being an awesome transmigrator, and who was interested in him being one, would have killed him off to be on the safe side. On the other hand, being Level 6 did mean, that he truly was a grunt, without the immediate possibility to retitle himself as a benign overlord. He needed more Levels to be considered one.


    Not to mention his age on Arkadia. As a twenty-two-year-old, he was, although an adult, widely still considered an obnoxious bedwetter.


    So, technically and truly a grunt, he did, what grunts did all over all the multiverses as day jobs: hacking Slimes, Jellies, and Jams all day. After the Kitchen Disaster, he was almost certain, he wouldn''t work in gastronomy ever again ¨C but noooo, here he was spreading suggestively named stuff all over hard surfaces!


    At least Mythrillhead ¨C responsible for the sector, Prof''s party was fighting ¨C provided nice background music. Prof found, that Mythrill, coupled with [Magic: Music], made it easier to make his axes sing. A riff here, a solo there, an awesome stance after a tricky figure, and a few Slimes were no more. He was sorry for the sectors on his right and left, one had to be satisfied with Clay, the other with a lone Military Musician.


    By sunset, Prof and his friends had killed a few hundred Slimes and other innocent variations but had only seen two Marmalades and one Pudding. Thankfully, nothing more insidious came near them. On the way back to the camp he heard, however, that the heavy infantry had to be called in a few sectors over. Either, because the troops there weren''t so awesome as Prof''s bunch, or something more dangerous than a mere Pudding showed up.


    Of course, just because the Sun wasn''t working its dayshift didn''t mean, the battle was paused for a few hours. New recruits ¨C adventurers, volunteers, and regular army ¨C replaced the tired frontline troops, and illuminated by fresh mages, the de-sliming operation continued unabated.


    Back in camp, Prof had to join a row for his supper. Standing in line was still better, than cooking their own chow ¨C they were quite tired as it was and still weren''t exactly proficient in [Cooking]. During the day, a few runners brought easy-to-eat stuff to the line ¨C obviously, Greenskins already invented fast food, but then again, putting some meat and vegetables in something looking like bread wasn''t exactly rocket science ¨C so Prof already knew, the Greenskins took care of their conscripted¡­ ehmm¡­ voluntold fighters.


    The only question was if they provided inedible slop, porridge or real food in the evening.


    It was real food ¨C a thick, healthy, greasy soup with vegetables, meat, and enough sharpness to kill off a small Westerner village on Earth. Just like home! If there was one thing, he would be missing in Ostwaldland, was the hot food. And the sharp drinks. Maybe he could buy enough ingredients and booze to last a year or two?


    He never understood all those Japanese isekaied folks, who got a nervous breakdown because of the absence of rice. It was rice, after all. It wasn¡¯t like alcohol couldn¡¯t be bought! That would be a catastrophe of mythical proportions! Now, however, he understood. Not the rice part, but getting food, that was almost like home after a day of heavy work, trampling Slimes. He could do without the heavy ¨C and mostly unpaid ¨C work, though.


    The next day, normal Slimes started to get rare, with Jellies being to most numerous ones, and even Puddings starting to get more common. Well, they had to evade four in twelve hours.


    Worse, Mythrillhead was assigned to another sector, and they got only a band of beginners instead. They were trying to play ¨C mostly Granite, with a little bit of Mythrill ¨C but their Skill was lacking. Prof even suspected, their [Magic: Music] wasn¡¯t even at 100%.


    Well, if Earth was an example, not everyone could reach A-listed quality, even after years of practice¡­ The overwhelming number was stuck at the garage¡­ ehm¡­ stable-band level. Arkadia seemed to work the same, but at least without radio and the ''net, the smaller bands had at least a chance for long-term employment, playing walking or working music somewhere. Their current musical support was probably not even on that level


    The difference to the previous day was stark: while with Mythrillhead it was almost a dance, the new guys made everything a slog. Prof''s party had to take more frequent breaks, hitting Slimes was harder, and they didn''t even have time for banter. That last part was actually welcomed by "Cat", it didn''t seem to like Prof and his very funny, eloquent, and cultured friends overly much.


    At least, the front was advancing slowly. Instead of trampled, burned, and melted grass, they soon fought on trampled, burned, and melted dirt. The Slimes were indeed eating everything. Not a single blade of grass, not a crippled bush, not a fallen tree was left in their wake. Probably not even land-dwelling insects, but Prof did not have time ¨C or an inclination ¨C to search for ants, bugs, and¡­ other crawlies, that usually crawled around underfoot.


    What the Slimes hadn¡¯t devoured, the mages burned to the ground.


    The third day was mostly the same, with basic Slimes almost completely absent by this time, and even Jellies getting rarer. Instead, there was a marked increase in Jams, Marmalades, and even Puddings. The team to their left even had to let something even more slimy through, so the support mages and the Army could take care of it.


    Prof could spare only a few glances to the thing, but what he saw, wasn¡¯t to his liking. Instead of the almost colorless twenty-centimeter blobs, that the regular Slimes were, that monster was almost as high, as a normal Human, colored in a thickly yellow-green hue. Bianca warned him previously, that such a higher-order slime could devour a grown infantryman ¨C arms and armor including ¨C within seconds.


    Prof was glad, professional monster exterminators were taking care of it. Well, other monster-exterminators, since he was technically also one.


    In the evening they learned, that the strike teams, sent directly against the spring of Goo were making good progress, and if everything went well, the mission would be over in a few days.


    Prof learned previously, that things usually didn¡¯t go well.


    He was partially right.

 Chapter 18: That time, you were reincarnated and slimed, Part 4

    ¡°Get the mages! Now! Emergency! Everyone! To the front!¡±


    It was almost dawn when Prof was roused by the alarm. He crawled out of their army-issued squad tent ¨C he still hoped to get their own stuff back from Saugarten, and didn''t bought a new tent yet ¨C and tried to understand, what was going on.


    He was almost run over by a squad of Hog Raiders, riding in the direction of the front. That was almost embarrassing: he survived thirty-five years in Central Europe without falling victim to traffic, but on Arkadia the first time, someone was speeding in a populated area, he was almost sent back to the Afterlife Office. Irresponsible Goblins racing around on huge hogs within a camp! Where was the public safety?! The speed traps?!


    Well, Elves probably had those, it was a brilliant idea to fleece foreigners, after all.


    But then again, how would a speed trap without electronics work? There was probably a way to substitute electronics with magic. Or Perks. Alternatively, the constable would just eyeball the speed. It would be fitting for Elves.


    ¡°Are you done with daydreaming?" Cat asked, "Move, already!"


    ¡°I¡¯m not daydreaming! The sun isn¡¯t even up, it can¡¯t be daydreaming.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, if it is still dark, it¡¯s called sleeping, shorty.¡±


    ¡°On the other hand, Miss Minerva, if you are already out of bed, it isn¡¯t sleeping anymore.¡±


    ¡°Ssssleep isss when eyesssss closssed. Ssstabing eassssy.¡±


    ¡°Argh!?!? Why do I have to put up with you idiots?!?"


    ¡°Because we are experienced adventurers, who already have defeated fearsome and frightening enemies, and your survival is best assured with us?¡±


    ¡°Cause we are funny?¡±


    ¡°The answer to that, Miss? Cat is, that the Guild Leadership ordered so.¡±


    ¡°I have studied years, put almost all my Skill Points into my magic, and I¡¯m still forced to work with morons! I almost want to go home to all those drab workaholics! Almost.¡±


    After Cat stormed off, Prof slowly got ready too, wondering, what the Dwarf''s problem was. A little bit of early morning bantering never hurt anyone. Probably Cat just wasn''t a morning person.


    Not long after they started to move in the direction of the front, the reason for the alarm started to filter down the grapevine. Some said the strike team had to retreat with heavy casualties, failing to subdue the Goo Pool. Others swore, that a Meteorblitzkrieg was called in, and the surviving Slimes broke through the front. The most likely scenario was, however, that suddenly a few higher-order Slimes ¨C Prof still hadn''t learned the scientific names for those ¨C assaulted the front, and every able-bodied trebuchet fodder was needed on the double.


    If the strike team truly failed, or the site was nuked from orbit, they could not find out, but there were indeed evolved Slimes around aplenty. Non-evolved and barely-evolved ones too.


    Fireballs, firebolts, fire arrows, fire carpets, and fire spells in every other form were also flying through the air, interspersed with lightning, earth, and metal. The latter two were maybe from the catapults, trebuchets, ballistae, scorpions, and wild asses letting loose in the back rows. The Greenskins didn''t hold anything back. It was war. Almost.


    The grunts ¨C that included Prof ¨C were rushed to the front as soon as they arrived. Prof was quite annoyed by this time ¨C a few months on Arkadia, and he was already drafted to fight someone else¡¯s war, without being able to say anything about it. True, the enemy was some kind of eons-old biological weapon of mass devouring, but still. If the pay was good at least, he would be a little bit less annoyed ¨C not by much, he wanted to see the sights, not get slimed. Get drafted into the army, they said. See the world, meet interesting new creatures, and protect alien civilians, they said.


    Well, actually, nothing of those was said, only ¡°get your stuff and go kill Slimes¡±. Without receiving much in the way of payment.


    As it were, one of his axes wasn''t able to utilize its enchantments to its fullest ¨C Slime variations didn''t wear armor. Their skins¡­ membranes¡­ thingies, that held the Slimes together were somewhat resilient, otherwise the simplest sticks would have poked holes into them, but it wasn''t exactly armor. The lower damage output wasn''t worth the chance to inflict bleeding. Or sliming.


    Actually, causing the Slimes to lose high-pressured acidic fluids wasn''t exactly a good idea, especially, if you were standing around in front of the wound.


    Prof barely managed to evade the first fountain of elemental acid ¨C his [Evade] was good for something, at least. No one told him, Arkadian Slimes were actually Xenomorphs in a different form!


    Actually, it was no wonder, nobody told him. First, that franchise wasn''t known on Arkadia, and no local knew, what a Xenomorph was, and every last local knew, what Slimes were and what they did. Simply, no one assumed, there was someone running around without knowing the most basic things. Prof should have asked not only for a Rulebook but for a Bestiary too. And maybe a summary of races, countries, civilizations, cultures, and so forth.


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    To be precise, he should have asked for the Rulebook, and not a Rulebook. He was lucky, he got a rulebook, that had at least a passing relationship with Arkadia.


    But well, as it is said, hindsight is 20/20, and Prof would have suffered through less awesome and funny adventures. Khmmm¡­ Misadventures. If his new life wasn''t reality, but reality TV or a trashy novel, no consumer would have watched or read his perfect march to destiny.


    If he was acting in a series or his life was sold as a web novel, he at least could have sued the System Administrator for royalties. Of course, if there was an evil interdimensional publishing house or network station behind all this, they probably had an army of lawyers, and were paying every possible judge, so Prof would have ended up paying multiple lifetimes worth of money, because of¡­ reasons.


    Not, that Prof had currently time to think about legal action against a pan-dimensional corporation ¨C of course, there was no such, he wasn¡¯t starring in any kind of serial ¨C since not be melted, eaten or melted and eaten by huge Slime variations took precedence. It was marvelous, how easily Humans could concentrate on survival and leave existential questions ¨C and possible avenues to get money from other people ¨C aside when faced with immediate consumption by Slimes!


    He dodged, evaded, and avoided the Slimes, attacking, when possible, and dodged, evaded, and avoided the jets of slimes afterward. Choosing two weapons, that had chances to inflict bleeding seemed like a good idea at first, but against the evolved Slimes, they were actually a hindrance.


    Well, the bleeding thing did what it was supposed to do, it gradually lowered the Slime''s HP. Probably. Prof''s [Observe] wasn''t high enough to see HP, and, well, he still mostly forgot to use that Skill.


    The loss of HP was, however, too slow for Prof¡¯s and everyone else¡¯s liking.


    Thankfully, most of the work was done by the mages and high-Leveled strike teams, the front-line grunts only had to occupy the Slimes'' attention long enough. Even so, casualties started to mount. Luckily, not in Prof''s party, and the local volunteers weren''t directly in the front, but a neighboring party was wiped out to the last Gremlin.


    The losses would have been higher, if the musical background were provided by anyone but Mythrillhead. Wolfgang and his band gave a hundred and ten percent, they pulled all the stops, playing louder than anyone, louder than anything, shredding their axes and screaming at the top of their lungs. Prof didn''t have time to listen to the lyrics, but he was absolutely certain, he knew most of the songs. The one time, there was a lull, and he could pay attention, Wolfgang was singing about stringing up razors, sharpening blades, tightening up armor, and killing off everything. If he wasn''t mistaken, that song was from that German band, but the lyrics were slightly off. Wolfgang''s honored ancestor probably had to fit the lyrics to Arkadian Greenskins, who weren''t living in medieval times, and certainly weren''t Teutons.


    It was still a good song, and Prof felt an overwhelming urge to jump right back into the slaughter. What wonderful things [Magic: Music] could do in the hands of a Skilled musician!


    Even with Mythrill constantly blaring out of the musicians, by noon everyone was dead tired. Prof lost his HP pool three times over, and was running out of potions ¨C both HP and de-sliming ones. Even with the local volunteers running around and passing everyone the potions they needed.


    Prof even drank two Stamina Potions but was barred from a third ¨C a passing healer literally had to knock the bottle out of his hands. He was then pulled out of the frontline and had to listen to a lecture about drinking too many Stamina Potions in a short time.


    Obviously, they were slightly addictive and could lead to cardiac shock, cerebral hemorrhage, circulatory collapse, issues with the nervous system, pulmonary edema, and kidney failure.


    The Greenskins should have tried putting caffeine into the potions, and not hard drugs¡­


    Thankfully, around noon an army detachment took over the line, and everyone could take a break. Mini discussed something with one of the healers, and they disappeared behind a tent not long after. Either Mini got an itch, and found someone willing to scratch it, or she was simply hungry¡­ and found someone, who was willing to cater to her special dietary needs.


    Either way, when Mini came back, her hair was tussled, and she looked happy. The healer wasn¡¯t looking sad either.


    Prof didn¡¯t ask.


    He already learned he should only ask questions, he desperately needed the answer to, and when it came to Mini, he shouldn''t ask even those.


    Innocent, polite questions like ¡°How was your night¡± could lead to a long presentation of¡­ smut. Or the recounting of barely legal ¨C well, almost certainly illegal ¨C escapades.


    Being undead had one serious disadvantage in Prof''s opinion. Potions didn''t work on them. As long as there were corpses and living enemies conveniently lying around, Undead were probably almost unkillable, they just grabbed something to eat and were right back at full unhealth. As soon as the supermarket, a battlefield was to them, missed a few supply trucks, and the shelves were empty, they had serious problems.


    All Prof did before falling asleep was to feed a few bits of meat to Sleepy, pet him a little, and make sure, Binky was all right too. Actually, both mounts were starting to get fat ¨C either the stable hands were afraid of them, and fed them as much as they could eat¡­ or the stable hands were mysteriously vanishing.


    How someone could be afraid of those sweet, half-ton carnivores, was incomprehensible. They were domesticated! Surely, a domesticated riding animal wouldn¡¯t just munch on random bystanders!


    Especially not on nice folks, who gave them munchies.


    Prof rest was quite short, barely six hours later they had to go back to the frontlines. Judging from the cratered, burned, and devastated landscape, either heavy artillery was brought in, or someone brought in a few convenient meteors for a quick bombardment. Well, on Arkadia both could have been the same. Why invest in expensive siege equipment, when you could just take a mage out of your pocket, and point him in the direction of things you wanted to be blown up?


    Since the Greenskin army did bring siege engines, mages (and witches, sorcerers, and others) were probably not the solution to every problem, you wanted to blow out of existence.


    Prof decided to ask Cat about the intricacies of blowing up things with spells and how to defend against such an approach.


    That had to wait, however. There were still a few Slimes around, just begging to be killed off, and a lot of Slimes, just waiting to devour pesky adventurers.


    Mythrillhead was opening up with a song about letting the corpses hit the floor; it was a good time to deflate blobs of slime!

 Chapter 18: That time, you were reincarnated and slimed, Part 5

    The battle went on and on and on just like this for a few more days. Prof was either killing Slimes ¨C well, trying to kill Slimes ¨C or was sleeping in the camp, but had no energy, time, or inclination to do anything else. It was like at home: grind, sleep, repeat. At least his files at the office didn''t want to eat him, they only ate his brain slowly. Maybe the files at the office were some kind of devious zombies?


    ¡°Zombies rarely eat brains." Mini informed him after he complained "Well, their preferred food is brains, just like blood is for Vampires, but Zombies are generally very polite about it. They ask you if you still need your brain before eating it."


    ¡°That is comforting. Asking before bashing your head in.¡±


    ¡°You do know, that if you have a good enough magic user, you can survive without your brain or most of your other organs? Besides, they mostly eat animal or monster brains, Human or Elven brains are a delicacy, and expensive to buy.¡±


    ¡°What about Dwarven brains?¡± Cat perked up


    ¡°No, not particularly. They say those taste like warmed-up dirt, with alchemical leftovers as sauce. One of my acquaintances once told me, she would rather starve than eat Dwarf."


    ¡°Figures. Those tunnel-dwellers are indeed quite drab. No proper Deviant can stand them for more than a few days. Go working! Be productive! Those mountains don¡¯t dig themselves out on their own! At least the Gnolls are a bit funny.¡±


    ¡°What about Gnolls? I heard them mentioned a few times, and¡­¡±


    ¡°Prof, stop right there. Don''t ever talk about Gnolls in the presence of Dwarves! Not even Deviant ones! I will tell you later." Mini was serious. As soon as the crazy, careless Vampire got serious, it was time for some legwork, and being somewhere else. The warning came late, though. Cat was already standing, puffing itself up to its full hundred and twenty centimeters, and was glaring at Prof.


    ¡°You want to talk about Gnolls, do you? Pry secrets out of me? If you want to know something, you should go back to the Collective Below the Mountain, and ask your fucking questions there! This discussion is over! If you ever ask me about stuff, you shouldn''t know, I will poison, burn, irradiate, and bury you on the spot. Understood?!"


    Without waiting for an answer, Cat stormed off.


    ¡°What¡¯s its problem?¡± Bianca asked, beating Prof for the same question.


    ¡°Dwarves don''t talk about the Collective and certainly don''t like if someone mentions Gnolls. It''s deeply ingrained. A cultural thing. Even Deviants react like that."


    ¡°They have to hate Gnolls with a passion.¡±


    ¡°Hate?!? Hahahahaha! They are best buddies!¡±


    ¡°Why keep everything a secret, then?¡±


    ¡°Well, it''s their origins. Or the Dwarves'' origin at least. I think, I already told you, Dwarves were created by some precursor race as cheap labor. It is speculated, that the Gnolls were created by the same species as shock troops. No one knows. A few hundred years ago, no one knew that gnolls even existed. One year, there weren''t any, and barely a decade later, there were Gnolls all over the mountains. The Dwarves were behaving like they knew each other for¡­ forever."


    ¡°Strange.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Nosy people were curtly told, no information will be forthcoming, and that they should fuck off. There are speculations, though. Some say the Dwarves dug out an old bunker or barracks, others think, the Gnolls just migrated South for somewhere and invoked an old contract."


    ¡°Migrated South? I thought Forestdeep was located North of the Dwarves'' mountains. How come, even you didn''t notice a whole species migrating through your home?"


    ¡°Well, it is true, Forestdeep is in the North, but even my Estate, which is almost the westernmost, is still East of most of the Collective. I don''t know, what lies West of Forestdeep. Probably not many know."


    Prof consulted his mental map. Without other maps to fill in the gaps (or going there himself), most of Fenria was still just an empty outline, with vague shapes for countries. West of Forestdeep¡¯s outline, there was just emptiness; so large, he could have put a whole empire into it. North of Forestdeep¡­


    ¡°Actually, what is in the North? Beyond Forestdeep?¡±


    ¡°Dunno. The deep forest ends a few hundred kilometers North of my Estate. It is said, that it gets sparser and sparser, and finally, you see only mosses and endless ice. Very few venture North, since most never come back or heard from ever again. So, probably there is something even older, more powerful there, than even Forestdeep. Or everyone just freezes solid."


    A wild, untamed land, full of mysteries, and lost treasures, just lying there, free for the taking! Of course, every last true adventurer would just jump on the chance to be the first one, who made landfall on an unknown land, finding ¨C and plundering ¨C ancient ruins, probably making first contact with never-seen-before species! Every real adventurer would embark on an epic adventure to the mist-shrouded North without delay, bards would compose and sing epic songs about them! This was what adventuring was all about, no?


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    Prof pitied all those true and real adventurers, who would sail for unknown, frozen lands. First, it was frozen, and even before his accident, that landed him on Arkadia, he wasn¡¯t exactly keen on cold weather. Secondly, exploring unknown lands ¨C particularly lands, where not even the crazy, overpowered Foresteans ventured ¨C was a good way to earn an unmarked grave or lunch with some monster. Where the true adventurer was the main course. And thirdly, there were endless possibilities in the South, a true and real adventurer could occupy himself with.


    Like helping out in taverns, or killing Slimes.


    Prof was absolutely sure, he would never, ever join an expedition to those parts. Probably not even voyages to other parts, that were advertised as ¡®no one came back from there¡¯. Once was enough. Even if the Valley made him rich ¨C assuming, he would be able to sell all those gems ¨C it wasn¡¯t worth the hassle. And the danger. And all those critters and people, who wanted to kill him.


    On a separate occasion, Prof also questioned Cat about how magic worked and why there were siege engines, bows, and swords around. He already knew from reading the rulebook, the auxiliary supplements, and designing a few characters for the game they played, that making a pure magic user was possible, but hard.


    Cat wasn''t exactly well-versed with other species ¨C only rumors were heard ¨C but Dwarves had around one percent chance to be "born" with ''Mana Channels'' ¨C everyone else had to buy the Perk later. Not that many did so, Dwarves generally focused on working, not frivolities like magic. Their basic need for geomancers, enchanters, and industrial mages was fulfilled by that one percent.


    As for defending against magic, Prof was told, that opposing elements generally gave the best protection against each other, and adjacent elements either reinforced or weakened each other. Since there were five basic elements on Arkadia, Fire, Water, Earth, Air, and Energy, how opposing and adjacent elements were defined was, in his opinion, complete bullshit. The best Cat was able to explain, it was a three-dimensional square with five points. Prof wasn''t exactly good in [Geometry], but was fairly sure, a square with five points wasn''t a square, but a pentagon.


    Cat told him, he was an idiot, and the shape was indeed a square with five points, and not a pentagon or a pentagram.


    To complicate things, every base element had a pseudo-element too, Heat, Cold, Darkness, Light, and Force respectively. Those could reinforce or weaken each other or the base elements, depending, on where those five were on the five-pointed square. That could be visualized at this time as a four-dimensional square with ten points. At the time Cat started on where other quasi-elements, like Life, Death, Radiation¡­ and two others were on that impossible piece of geometry, Prof was completely lost.


    There was also a lecture on where Zoomancy, Floramancy, Environmental Magic, Space-Time, and whatsitname-magic, and something-or-other-magic, and whatever-magic and¡­ others were on that square, but Prof was only hearing white noise. Even with Intelligence at 18.


    Probably no magic user, who wasn¡¯t completely bonkers ¨C or had at least 500% in [Magic Theory], but those were the same in Prof¡¯s opinion ¨C could understand the relations in their minutest details, [Magic: Neutralizing] was mostly used. It could completely negate Spells from other schools, if¡­


    Prof decided it was a very good idea, that he didn''t go down the road to magic and madness. Bashing heads with axes was incomparably easier and less headache-inducing. At least for him. Inducing headaches on enemies was what bashing heads was supposed to do.


    After getting not one, but two infodumps in a short time, Prof was ready to vent his frustration on Slimes. Luckily, there was still enough crawling, bobbing, and undulating around. Unfortunately, every last one of them was the "Run-for-your-life" variety. Even the army was in the midst of a tactical repositioning. Although, running very fast in the direction of the nearest town (Sumpfigerort, one day away), while leaving siege engines and heavy equipment back, could be maybe called a strategic rout.


    But Prof wasn¡¯t that proficient in Arkadian military vocabulary, so it could be indeed just a tactical repositioning.


    There were some, who were willing to mount one of the famous last stands, where every last participant met a glorious and gruesome end.


    Prof and his party weren''t one of those. They weren''t suicidal, so they wanted to commandeer a left-behind riding animal for Bianca, load Sharpclaw and Cat up on Binky and Sleepy, and join the repositioning. With all the clutter left behind, they were almost certain to find an animal ¨C and maybe some valuables too. Of course, they weren''t planning to steal but to rescue. Of course, they would turn in the loot¡­ khmmm¡­ salvage at the first army checkpoint. For a small finder''s fee.


    There were indeed left-over animals, wagons, crates of potions, and stuff lying around. Unfortunately, everything came with a fat Orc sergeant attached. It was the first time, Prof saw a fat Greenskin. Or a fat member of any species ¨C obviously medieval societies didn''t support getting fat. At least on Arkadia. On the other hand, Prof wasn''t exactly moving around in high society, where there was enough surplus foodstuff to get fat in the first place.


    ¡°You there!¡± the sergeant greeted them ¡°You just volunteered to rescue the potions and the reserve gear! Load up! On the double!¡±


    Obviously, great minds thought along the same lines. Why leave expensive valuables behind, so scavenging Slimes could devour or slimy scavengers steal them, when you could just as easily liberate¡­ ehhmmm¡­ save everything yourself? How excellent the Greenskins were, they would surely give them awards and money, or they would just gift everything rescued to them. Right? Right?


    Unfortunately, rescuing ownerless items turned into a transportation quest for army stores. Unless they lost the sergeant somewhere on the road, no awards and prize money would be forthcoming. Except for Mini, probably Sharpclaw, and maybe Bianca no one was prepared for accidentally losing a subaltern of the armed forces. There went the money.


    At least they managed to join up with Wolfgang''s band on the road and were able to enjoy some driving music. Audio systems for vehicles were an excellent invention. Especially live music, even if it was played on hog-drawn wagons.


    Strangely, there were a few folks moving in the opposite direction, but judging from the number of quality clothes, exaggerated amount of expensive accessories, and excessive haughty attitudes, those were either moronic nobles or extremely high-leveled people, who made a career of dispatching monsters.

 Chapter 18: That time, you were reincarnated and slimed, Part 6

    Judging from the sound and visual effects later the day, coming from the battlefield, the fancy people were indeed high-Level individuals. Moronic nobles don''t just call meteor showers¡­ meteor storms and don''t just set fire to the ensuring craters. Probably. Well, technically, they could do all that ¨C by ordering competent people to do it.


    Not, that nobles ¨C and politicians ¨C couldn''t be competent, but especially the latter mostly just put all their points into Charisma, [Con], and [Convincing]. However, on Arkadia high Level inevitably also meant competent. Not necessarily in useful Skills, but competent nonetheless. While on Earth everyone could say, he was competent in, say, history or science, on Arkadia you could actually prove your competence, just by showing your Character Parchment. Less chances for charlatans. Well, [Con] and [Convincing] were still valid Skills, so a competent conman could still win any election.


    But, that only proved, he was indeed competent.


    Morons, on the other hand, tended to die early because of¡­ well, incompetence and stupidity.


    Be as it may, by evening, the horizon was aflame, and the khm¡­ tactical repositioning turned into a hasty parade of victorious troops. Obviously, it was better PR to position yourself as an army, marching in an orderly fashion after fighting deadly Slimes for a week or so, than as a demoralized horde running away from an ancient weapon of magical mass devouring.


    Prof''s and Wolfgang''s wagons also joined the parade, Mythrillhead providing an epic march ¨C it was actually the Mythrill version of the most well-known movie from Earth. Instead of military walkers, there were walking military, but it was still a valid song. Prof''s party, on the other hand, was enthusiastically waving, and in the case of Mini, throwing kisses. And trying to chat up random passers-by.


    The whole parade would have been even more epic if there was a crowd to watch it, not just a few people. Obviously, spontaneous parades needed thorough advance planning, including informing the populace, attendance is recommended, and distributing correct flags to wave and banners to hold high. Either the Greenskins didn''t know that the time was too short, or the person responsible for the planning had a very low [Parade Planning] Skill. If there was such a Skill. On the other hand, Greenskins was too fixated on excellence to allow someone un-excellent to do important things.


    To finish the epic transportation quest ¨C and hopefully receive monetary accolades ¨C Prof¡¯s wagon soon left the impromptu parade for the barracks. The home of the local military might was probably located in the local castle ¨C it was probably a castle since there were soldiers there, but Prof still couldn''t tell Greenskinian military and civilian architecture apart. Both looked the same to him ¨C they had the same bunker look, with the same narrow windows and the same ugly decorations.


    Wolfgang once tried to educate him on the differences but gave up soon. Obviously, a Perception of 11 and a¡­ very low [Architecture] Skill wasn''t enough for the mythical task of spotting the three differences.


    Prof found out, that "being excellent" didn''t include monetary compensation for rescuing military stores from certain destruction (or the consummation by Slimes), because that was regarded as "being excellent to the military". Meaning, everyone had the duty to do their utmost to preserve or rescue said stores. Instead of some hard cash, they only received a long and pompous speech about how excellent they were. At least the garrison commander promised to inform the Adventurer''s Guild about their excellence.


    If not for that Sergeant, they could have stolen the cache and sold it on the black market! Or hold on to the potions themselves! Ehmmm¡­ Of course, they wouldn¡¯t have done that, they weren¡¯t some common thieves! They would have turned in the crates even without the Sergeant¡¯s meddling! Well, they would have turned in most¡­


    The only positive result of the whole quest was, that they didn¡¯t need to walk back or ride on the double. Plus the live audio system from the other wagon. Arkadians really should invent portable music. Maybe train Gremlins to play instruments?


    On the way back to the Guild and their lodgings ¨C they were still unable to secure a room or two elsewhere ¨C they started to hear interesting rumors.


    ¡°The General slew the President!¡±


    ¡°Saugarten is burning!¡±


    ¡°The Army joined the riot in Saugarten!¡±


    ¡°The Hog Raiders have mutinied!¡±


    ¡°Some Elf killed a whole garrison at the border!¡±


    ¡°The Mages¡¯ not-Guild cut communication to the outside!¡±


    ¡°Dunkelgr¨¹nen invaded Ostwaldland!¡±


    ¡°Dunkelgr¨¹nen came to help the rioters!¡±


    ¡°Dogmeat prices rise everywhere!¡±


    ¡°There is no paprika to buy on the market!¡±


    ¡°Franz Bettw?rmer was caught cheating on his wife with Lotte Heissblut!¡±


    ¡°Wait, isn¡¯t Lotte his first cousin?¡±


    ¡°No, she is his second cousin. The one you mean is Lotte Heissgetr?nk.¡±


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    ¡°You are both wrong. The Heissblut girl is not related to him at all, and the Heissgetr?nk woman is his aunt, and she¡¯s old.¡±


    ¡°No no no. His aunt is Linde Warmwasser, I''m sure about it, she is my neighbor. Heissblut is¡­"


    Of all the rumors, the last was the most interesting. It was an interesting insight into local relations and conventions. Prof was reminded of certain TV dramas. He was almost certain, in a short time it would come out, that Franz was actually innocent, and it was his long-lost twin brother, who was in a convenient coma for two Seasons, who did the sleeping around. That would be hilarious and clich¨¦.


    But then again, cheating folks were around everywhere. Cheating with close relatives, though. Well, at least it stayed in the family.


    The other rumors hinted at some serious problems in the capital, and Prof wondered a little bit, what that was all about. Just a little bit, since it was the Greenskins'' internal problem, and he didn''t have anything to do with it. He was absolutely sure, he and his friends were completely unrelated to the troubles. He would even swear on it.


    ¡°I think, we should expedite our relocation to the South," he told the others. Winter was coming, after all, and they planned to relocate to begin with. The troubles in Ostwaldland ¨C and the party''s non-relations to them ¨C had nothing to do with the pending journey.


    ¡°I thought, you wanted to earn more money first," Bianca replied


    ¡°Well, I think we are good, we¡¯ve got twenty marks for the gems. Plus, we still have to sell the loot from the last dungeon. Oh, and I hope, at least a part of the stuff from the warehouse could be sold. With all those earnings, we should be able to buy a horse and supplies and maybe even a wagon.¡±


    ¡°They don¡¯t have many horses in Greenskin lands, mostly only hogs and a few goats.¡±


    ¡°Fine, we could buy a hog or two.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t forget tents. It¡¯s really getting cold at night.¡±


    Prof started to write a shopping list. If everything went right, they could flee¡­ ehmmm¡­ leave Sumpfigerort within a few days, a week at most. Just as he started to wonder, why no Level-Up notification popped up after days of slime liquidation, the long-awaited red exclamation mark started to blink in his peripheral view. It really was time, after all of his epic, legendary, and mythical quest of¡­ organizing the first Mythrill concert ever, neutralizing a dangerous troll, kitchen work, weapon testing, escorting army stores, and killing slimes.


    He definitely needed to figure out, what made a Level-Up happen. Just stumbling through life without having a clue wasn¡¯t that entertaining. Even if the Arkadian locals did the same.


    Distributing his Skill Points was easy this time too ¨C after all, he had enough time to think about it. First, he needed to "learn" the languages of the South. There were quite a few warnings, that his current languages wouldn''t mean much outside of Greenskin lands, he needed to learn Gerulian, Western Common, and Fellarian. From the sparse information Prof could gather, the latter two were variations of each other, but what exactly the difference was, no one could tell him. Not that he asked around that much.


    Twenty-five Points were allocated to each. It wasn''t much, but at least he should be able to understand and speak some. If they were staying in the South for a longer time, he could always learn more. Or throw Skill Points at those Skills. No Points were spent on the respective [Culture], [Etiquette], or [Laws]. A hundred and ten sounded as much, but it wasn''t. How everyone else, with fewer points, could reach high Levels in any Skill, Prof couldn''t exactly understand. They probably trained day in and day out.


    Or there were still secrets about Arkadia¡¯s System, no one told him yet.


    Ten Points each were thrown at [Parry], [Block] and [Acrobatics], simply to round out his martial Skills. He still needed around thirty Points each to reach the minimum of 100%, which his trainer told him was necessary.


    The last five Points went into [Convincing].


    Every little bit helped to convince Traveller-Hunters, that he wasn''t one. He at least hoped the Skill worked that way.


    While he didn''t feel the difference between the Skills, he put a few Points into it ¨C Humans were notoriously bad at noticing gradual change ¨C his three new language Skills flooded his brain with new information. Western Common and Fellarian were indeed quite similar, but there were clear differences too. If Prof had to judge, Fellarian was the more refined, pure one, while the former was riddled with loanwords, new phrasing, and different syntax.


    If he had to make a comparison, he would have used Classical Latin and Vulgar Latin.


    Of course, he had the learn another alphabet too. Although the Garuli used the same one as the Bergians, Fallerian, and Western Common used a different one. The alphabet for classical Fallerian used runes ¨C different ones, compared to the Greenskins ¨C that looked a little bit like Akkadian¡­ Babilonian¡­ some Mezopotamian script. Prof wasn''t exactly interested in them back on Earth and had no clue, which one was which. Probably the Fallarian script had nothing to do with them to begin with, so it made no difference to him.


    Western Common, though¡­ Since it was a bastardized version of Fallarian, it was meant to be written in the Fallarian alphabet, but Prof learned enough to know, that using one of¡­ many other scripts was also valid.


    Of course, he didn¡¯t learn any of those many other alphabets.


    Unfortunately, there wasn''t a new Perk there this time either. He probably had to do something noteworthy to get one or do something repeatedly.


    ¡°Hey, Cat! We are planning to visit the Southern lands. Do you want to come? We could use a good witch who knows so much awesome magic!"


    ¡°No, thank you. You idiots are irritating, and I constantly have a headache, just from listening to you. Besides, there are some archaeologists, who found a tomb of one precursor species or other, and they are hiring adventurers for security. And to help them loot the place. It pays well.¡±


    ¡°Oh, tomb raiding?" Mini chimed in "That''s a fun thing to do. All those people you meet down there! Most are locked in for millennia and just want to have a nice talk, or play games. Those poor undead are so lonely on their own!"


    ¡°You think, there will be undead there?¡±


    ¡°Of course, there will be some! It¡¯s a tomb! What else would be there? Desiccated corpses? Duh. Don¡¯t forget to bring fresh blood and some booze, most undead can be bribed with those, and you could have a chat with them. Oh, and learn [Ancient Language: Deadian]. Most ancient undead don¡¯t speak modern languages. ¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ thank you?¡±


    Prof was happy, they weren''t roped into some crypt-delving. His first dungeon was enough of that, and if the local undead wanted a chat, it could be even more dangerous, than pasting Slimes on rocks. Although he was well-equipped and had good Skills and Perks to deal with undead, he had enough of fighting for the foreseeable future. After reaching the sea, he would go look for a bar on the beach, and chill out for a time.


    ¡°You there! I was looking for you pesky kids!¡±

 Chapter 19: The Show Mustn’t Go On, Part 1

    The natural reaction, when someone yells at you they are looking for you, is to run away. It was probably generically ingrained ¨C only those, who ran away from saberteeth and dinosaurs and aliens yelling at them, survived to make kids. Those, who stayed to ask, what the one yelling wanted, were eaten, abducted, or abducted and eaten.


    Prof didn¡¯t run away ¨C he was a product of modern society, with no primeval monsters hunting Humans for giggles, and the most life-threatening danger he faced, was some surplus rebar lying around. No one needed to run away from rebar. Well, Prof should have. Or at least walked away very cautiously.


    Also, he was a gentleman, and running away from someone, who obviously wanted to talk with him, wasn''t exactly polite. That and gentlemen rarely run, they walk in a speedy fashion.


    As Prof turned, he came face to face with a familiar Goblin.


    ¡°Good day to you, honored not-Guildmaster. How may I be of service?"


    ¡°Haven''t you done enough already!?! You! You! You¡­"


    ¡°Me? Me? Me? Oh, thank you for your accolades! I deserve it! I¡¯m Fabulous and Magnificent!¡±


    ¡°Do you even know, what you have done?!?¡±


    ¡°No. I¡¯ve done a lot of things, and every last one of them is fabulous and magnificent. So, whatever I did lately, has to be fabulous and magnificent too!¡±


    ¡°Mini, I think, he meant you in plural, not singular.¡±


    ¡°Awww, isn¡¯t the not-Guildmaster polite? He talks about me in plural!¡±


    ¡°Mini, that¡¯s not¡­ you know what, you are right. You did everything, I had nothing to with it. Whatever it is.¡±


    ¡°Are you all retarded?!? You know what, this isn¡¯t over yet!¡± the not-Guildmaster obviously wasn¡¯t a gentleman ¨C since no gentleman would run away in the middle of a conversation they started. Well, normally, a gentleman wouldn¡¯t accost innocent foreigners on the street either.


    ¡°Sssshould sssstart ssstabbing?¡±


    ¡°No, Sharpclaw. Not yet, at least. I don¡¯t know, what his problem was. And that would be murder.¡±


    ¡°Actually, no. According to Forestean customs, that would be regarded as self-defense. He threatened us, so it would be legal to kill him, his family, and his organization. And his pet undead Dread Bear."


    ¡°Miss Minerva that¡¯s quite excessive for a passing threat!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I would try not to kill poor undead bears, they are cute, and if nothing else, you could always gift them to the Royal Zoo of the Craigh Kinn Estate. All their animals are undead! However, to get to the target, it is quite likely, you would have to dispatch that poor teddy bear too.¡±


    ¡°Miss Minerva, I meant¡­¡±


    ¡°Hey, Bianca! Look! A house!¡± Prof could basically feel his [Pointing-Out-Random-Things] Skill working overtime. At least he hoped, there was such a Skill, since he wasn¡¯t able to find it in his Skill-list. It was no wonder, with hundreds of Skill cluttering up his Character Parchment. It was possible, however, that the Skill was simply misnamed, probably into something meaningless, like [Distraction].


    Whatever Skill did the work, it did it well, because Bianca looked at the house out of reflex, interrupting her argument with Mini.


    ¡°I think, we should talk to Wolfgang. Maybe he knows, what that was all about." Prof told the others. If a villain on duty for the last story arc started spewing threats, it was always a good idea to look into the issue. However, Prof was living in a real world, he had enough experience both on Earth and Arkadia, to get curious about a guy, who tried to sabotage one of his projects. A dignitary like one of the local capital''s not-Guildmasters usually doesn''t just start throwing empty threats around. Folks like that started building shark tanks below poorly concealed trapdoors, or hiring assassins, and lawyers and made people, who offended them disappear. Preferably in their freshly built shark tank.


    Prof''s Intelligence of 18 told him, the not-Guildmaster''s arrival had something to do with the rumors they heard ¨C and most likely not the interesting ones about folks sleeping around with their not-close relatives. If the other rumors had something to do with a certain new kind of music and a certain concert¡­ Well, it was too late to deny involvement.


    ¡°It won¡¯t go well.¡± Wolfgang said, after he was informed about the possible problems ¡°I heard, the Musicians¡¯ not-Guild in Saugarten was burned to the ground, and the General is planning to make Mythrill not just legal, but the official music for the military.¡±


    ¡°Why is that a problem?¡±


    ¡°The President was always a proponent for Clay, the Chief subtly supported Clay too, and the General was pressured into making Clay the semi-official music. Even Granite was secondary to Clay in the official standing. Unofficially, Granite was probably more liked. With Mythrill on the table, and being the true official music, Clay is going to fall back, and if the riot in Saugarten is any indication, it will fall out of fashion hard.¡±


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    ¡°Yes, and?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s political, don¡¯t you see? The President was already barely able to cling to the position, it is almost sure, he will be kicked out of office.¡±


    It was just fantastic! Prof wasn¡¯t exactly interested in politicking back on Earth, and now he had to learn the intricacies of Greenskinian politics, and how taste in music influenced everything. No, he was not interested in how the fan base for different parties was composed, how the different power blocks rhymed with each other, or how the music was played in the smoky backrooms.


    He didn¡¯t care, how the show would go on, now, that the gig was up.


    On the other hand, getting his money ¨C or at least the jewelry ¨C from the jeweler in Saugarten was important. With widespread riots and his moving to a different country, his investments were in acute danger! Going back to the capital to get the stuff back was out of the question too ¨C with the not-Guildmaster currently in the same city as him, and Ostwaldland teetering on the brink of all-out civil war, if he did any traveling, it was to a different country, and not even deeper into the flames.


    ¡°Say, Wolfgang, would it be possible for the jeweler in Saugarten to mail me the jewelry? Maybe the inn could send me the camping gear too."


    ¡°Normally, it would be possible, but with the current state of affairs, you know, all the rioting, I wouldn''t advise to do it. Greenskins are excellent enough to hang on to the proceeds for a year or two. I''m fairly sure, this will blow over within that timeframe, so you could come back, collect your money and see the sights. There are a few very picturesque villages and castles I could show you."


    That was not happening. Prof could stomach only so many scenic bunkers, and Ostwaldland''s natural wonders weren''t that charming either. The food was good, though.


    ¡°Judging by your displeased expression, you aren¡¯t that thrilled by my fatherland. I can assure you, it is more excellent, when not in uproar, and you haven¡¯t seen anything yet.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, sure. I will think about it. Could I leave you as a contact person? So the jeweller could send you to money, and you could forward it to me. Well, as soon as I figure out, what I will do in the next year or two. We had this plan with Mini to go as West as possible and see what''s there. Maybe on the way back. Could you hang on to the money till then?"


    ¡°Sure, why not? When are you planning to leave?¡±


    ¡°We have just started to compile the shopping list. It will be at least a few days, till we are ready."


    With the contents of the warehouse they still had, they could probably save a lot of money. Speaking of the warehouse¡­ Most of the stuff was still there, obviously, if you wanted to sell a few tons of assorted goods, preferably in a short time, so the perishables didn''t perish, you had to do it as a main job. Since they had to do all those epic adventures and did a tour to the front too, they didn''t have time to do a yard sale.


    Prof doubted they could sell everything in a few days, so Wolfgang had to take over that part too. And hold on to the proceeds.


    Prof decided next time he entered an ancient forgotten vault, he would prioritize easy-to-sell, cheap stuff, and currency ¨C selling the highly valuable loot was simply too much of a chore. On the other hand, it was easier to haul a bag of gems around than a ton of nails in a couple of wagons. Which they didn''t have.


    Yet.


    Prof wanted to buy one for months, even back in Willowflower. It was a more comfortable way to travel, and they could transport their supply and loot easier too. Finally, he had enough money to buy one. Of course, a four-horsepower two-seater sports wagon or a luxury carriage was out of budget. Maybe a used one, but Prof thought, it was still a needles expense.


    As he found out the next day, medieval societies and cities didn''t have dealerships for brand new wagons on every other corner downtown or huge lots with used ones at the city limits. In fact, there weren''t even sleazy wagon merchants with a few vehicles with rudimentary visual improvements and rolled-back odometers sitting on overgrown plots of land.


    Mostly, because hog-drawn wagons don¡¯t have odometers.


    But even so, there weren''t any dedicated shops, selling new or used vehicles in the entire city. Who would have thought, that in a medieval society, there weren''t big vehicle manufacturers, who built wagons, chariots, carts, and wheelbarrows large scale, just to slap a, say, star, a few rings, a jumping horse, or any other logo on the bonnet and let them sit around for a few months until someone with enough cash could buy one?


    As Prof found out ¨C although he suspected so already ¨C most things, and certainly things that improved road mobility, were made-to-order, even in Greenskin lands. Also, such pieces of convenience were used as long as they fell apart ¨C no one was selling basically working vehicles, so they could buy the next year''s model, which did more or less the same thing.


    Well, almost no one was selling. Luckily, the Greenskins were excellent people, and Prof was directed to a merchant house or not-Guild, or whatever they were. And indeed, they were selling an almost-new wagon in almost perfect condition! It was only a decade or two old, the tarpaulin was torn in a few places, the trunk lid (or back gate, or whatever the piece at the end of the hull was called) was broken, and the cargo space had a few suspicious brownish stains. The wheels had seen better times too, but Prof was reinsured, they were still good for a few hundred kilometers.


    In Prof¡¯s experience, that meant, they would probably last till the city limits before failing catastrophically.


    Being excellent to each other meant, the let¡¯s-call-him-Merchant couldn¡¯t outright lie about that piece of junk, and paint it as the best vehicle currently on sale¡­ No, he could do the latter one, because it was the best one currently on sale in the whole of Sumpfigerort. In fact, it was the only one on sale anywhere close by. Not being able to use [Con] on Prof didn¡¯t mean, he couldn¡¯t use [Convincing] or [Commerce] or even [Haggling] ¨C yes, there was a separate Skill for that too.


    Just for the low price of seven schillinge, Prof was soon the proud owner of a classical flatbed wagon ¨C repairs and new wheels not included. For some strange reason, Prof felt as if he went to a used-car dealership back on Earth, wanting to buy a not-too-old sedan, but walked away with the most beaten-up van or pickup truck, the yard had. Pushing his newest acquisition, because the engine was dead.


    ¡°Couldn¡¯t that thief have stored your new toy until we bought some hogs?¡±


    ¡°He wanted to have money for letting us park it there.¡±


    ¡°You know, we could hitch up your mounts¡­¡±


    ¡°My poor Binky won¡¯t pull a cart! And anyways, the leather parts, where we could hitch them up are torn too¡±


    ¡°Why exactly did you buy this piece of shit?¡±


    ¡°Eh¡­ Bianca, Mini, please just shut up and push¡­¡±

 Chapter 19: The Show Mustn’t Go On, Part 2

    All they needed now was modes of traction. Luckily, there were dealerships for new and used draft and riding animals in Sumpfigerort. Not so luckily, it was on the exact opposite side of the city. Pushing their newly acquired mode of cozy travel to the pens garnered quite a few curious looks from the locals ¨C or maybe Mini¡¯s and Bianca¡¯s constant nagging did that.


    ¡°Why can¡¯t we park this thing somewhere?¡±


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t we buy hogs first?¡±


    ¡°Why is that wheel letting out that strange noise?¡±


    ¡°Why did that piece of plank just break off?"


    ¡°Why is that wagon driver shouting at us? We are pushing as hard as we can already!¡±


    ¡°Why exactly did we need a new used cart again?¡±


    ¡°Are we there yet?¡±


    Prof started to wonder, how all those harem protagonists could put up with their collections. These two weren''t even his girlfriends, so couldn''t threaten him with having headaches if he wasn''t nice to them ¨C instead, it was him, that got a migraine. Managing half a dozen females just for the chance to get laid now and then sounded like an excessive amount of work. Not even counting all the gifts, clothes, jewelry, and stuff he would have to buy¡­


    Oh wait¡­ Since he was the treasurer of the party, technically he was the one, who financed all their spending on clothes, jewelry, impaling implements, and stuff.


    Prof felt a little bit cheated. And frustrated.


    It probably showed, since the hog merchant (an Orc) patted him on the back with pity and a knowing wink, offered him some booze, and let his wife take care of the girls.


    ¡°To be honest, I never figured out, why you Pinkskins take more, than one wife. Even one is too much at times¡­¡±


    ¡°They aren¡¯t even my wives or girlfriends! We are an adventuring party!¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m so sorry. You don¡¯t even get extramarital kissing, then?¡±


    ¡°No¡­¡±


    ¡°Well, I never figured out, why you Pinkskins are such masochists either. Anyway, I see you have a two-hogpower trading wagon there. Not in the best condition, either. Do you want to buy two draft horses or modify the wagon for your two monsters?"


    Prof hoped the merchant was talking about Binky and Sleepy, not his party members.


    ¡°Two hogs, please. Sturdy, obedient, and healthy, please. They can be second-hand if the price is lower. Oh, and do you know someone, who could check the wheels, brakes, and that water barrel on the side? And fix the trappings and the cover?"


    ¡°A cousin of mine is actually a wheelwright and has a shop on the other side of town. His brother-in-law is a harness maker and works just next door to him. Let me give you direction."


    It transpired, both shops were just one street away ¨C from the merchant, they bought the wagon from. Getting the wagon to the garage wasn¡¯t complicated. All he had to do was to ask the girls nicely to push it all the way back from where they came.


    That was not happening.


    ¡°Can you hitch the hogs up somehow? I don¡¯t want to push the wagon all the way back.¡±


    ¡°Understandable. We could jury rig the harnesses, they should hold till the shops. However, I wouldn¡¯t recommend riding on the wagon or going fast. As for the draft hogs, I have just two, that fit your criteria. Come, come!¡±


    The animals the Orc showed him were probably hogs. Or at least they had some kind of hog somewhere in the family tree ¨C as in millions of years ago something, that would be classified as the distant ancestor of common pigs by scientists liked the distant ancestor of common armored personnel carriers very much, and the offspring was simply too tough for dinosaurs to eat. If viewed from a certain distance and in certain illumination, they could have been mistaken for hogs or pigs. As long as the distance was more, than a few kilometers, it was completely dark, and the one doing the viewing never saw a pig before.


    They had four legs, teeth, that could pulverize concrete, short, greenish-yellow fur, and evil little purple pig-eyes. Their future means of traction were higher at the shoulder than Prof was, and the skull was large enough to put a Kobold inside it. Not, that Prof planned to put their main problem solver for anything stealthy, stabby, or trappy into the skull of some monster-pig. Or into its mouth.


    ¡°These are Dire Fullteeth" the hog-seller informed him "Despite looking like overgrown killing machines, they are quite docile. Most importantly, they are very sturdy, almost impossible to poison, and nearly immune to every known sickness. Both have Poison Immunity, Strong Stomach, and Beast of Burden. The smaller one has a Vitality of an incredible 32, and the larger one a still respectful 28. With an Endurance of above 25, they can go on and on, with only one or two Gremlins a day! You won''t get more mileage out of any other animal! The best is, that they are omnivores, and by that I mean, they can and will eat everything organic! Oh, and they have an Armor Rating of 10."


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    ¡°Of course, such incredible endurance comes with a cost, Dire Fullteeth aren''t known for their acceleration or top speed. They are perfect for pulling wagons, good as pack animals, and in a pinch, they can even be ridden! As I see, you have a very good Nightmare and that lizard thing, so you probably will only need them as draft hogs."


    Buying four-legged engines on Arkadia was way more honest, than buying new cars on Earth. At least in Greenskin lands ¨C the Elves somehow forgot to inform him about the Stats and Perks of the donkeys and mules they sold to him. The Greenskins, on the other hand¡­ No vehicle manufacturer presented the performance of their cars so openly on Earth. If anything, they were closer to how Elves handled the issue.


    ¡°The price, of course, reflects their quality. For the low price of seventy schillinge, you could be the proud new owner of a slightly used, but still sturdy Dire Fulltooth!¡±


    ¡°Seventy each?¡±


    ¡°Yes, of course! You won¡¯t be able to find any comparable quality anywhere for less!¡±


    The funny thing was, that getting the draft animals cost twenty times the rickety wagon they already bought. Maybe, just maybe the girls were right, and he should have looked at the animals first. Now, that he bought an almost-new piece of disaster ¨C and pushed it through the whole city ¨C, he simply had to invest into something, that was able to pull it too. Pushing the wagon all the way to the Southern coast defeated the whole rationale behind acquiring four-wheeled transport.


    Re-selling it hadn¡¯t even crossed his mind.


    He would rather leave it in a ditch and set fire to it.


    A hundred-forty Schillinge was quite a lot of money, he wasn''t exactly comfortable to part with, so he did the sensible thing. He looked at other, slightly, or in some cases, heavily, used self-propelled methane generators. The selection wasn''t all that convincing: a few normal Fullteeth, even smaller Warhogs, Warty Hogs, Draft Pigs, and two lonely-looking Cart Goats. Everything was a little bit cheaper, but those potential savings were too small for the difference in quality. Especially for pulling a wagon. The cheapest were the Cart Goats, and were actually quite good for pulling carts ¨C however, they were too weak to pull a wagon.


    It was like putting a one-liter engine into an SUV. Technically it worked, but made no sense practically.


    Prof debated the issue for a few minutes. On one hand, he would have an underpowered power source for cheap, with not-so-good Stats and Perks, on the other hand, armored awesomeness for a lot of money. Or anything in between.


    Of course, he chose the Dire Fullteeth in the end. Even if the suspension, wheels, bodywork, and the convertible top of his new wagon were crap, at least the engine would be reliable and powerful. Maybe he could stiffen the suspension, put on widened wheels, and lower the whole thing later. And put on a custom paint job.


    Naw¡­


    The whole thing wasn''t worth the effort. He wanted to travel in comfort, not build some hog track muscle wagon. Probably medieval roads couldn''t handle that kind of driving anyway. It was like at home: too many potholes and non-euclidean road geometry, and all those sport-car owners wondered, why their shiny toys broke down in short order.


    Leading the wagon and the jury-rigged Fullteeth back to the wheelwright and the harness maker was much faster, and Prof pointedly ignored the girl¡¯s teasing. After all, he was a real man, and real men could do nothing wrong while buying stuff, pushing said stuff to other shops to make it work! Females just didn¡¯t understand the intricacies of the joy of making a barely functional, overpriced piece of uselessness into an almost-working piece of limited usefulness. Even if one could buy a basically working piece for a fraction of the cost.


    Not, that Prof was such a sexist chauvinist, and wasn¡¯t thinking like that at all.


    More correctly, he was close to tears. All those nightmarish expenses for a wreck, while he already had a high-class Nightmare! It was like already having a midlife-crisis chopper, and buying some old wreck, because everyone knew, girls were not into choppers but run-down trucks. He started to realize, he didn''t exactly think the situation through.


    Not, that he was prepared to admit it to Mini and Bianca.


    At least Sharpclaw had fun. She was the one, who steered the wagon on the way to the hog dealership and was currently riding one of the hogs.


    Well, Mini and Bianca also had fun, but that was at Prof¡¯s expense.


    ¡°You are lucky, I have a set of heavy-duty cross-country wheels in stock. It¡¯s army surplus, they left it here after the slime campaign. Barely used.¡±


    ¡°Your canvas cover can''t be saved. See, the material is too washed out and thin. I would recommend scrapping it and installing a new one ¨C for example, this barely used army surplus one, I have at the ready."


    ¡°Your front axle is good, but the rear one has these cracks here and here. If you load up your wagon, there is a chance, it won''t last past a few hundred kilometers. I wouldn''t recommend going on heavy terrain at all. I do have a spare, barely used rear axle. Army surplus."


    ¡°The harnesses are junk, as you know yourself. You are in luck, I have a full set available. Barely used, army surplus.¡±


    ¡°New brakes! Barely used! Army surplus!¡±


    ¡°Padded seats! Army surplus!¡±


    ¡°Gremlin boxes! Lantern! Spare water cask! Grease bucket! Rear door! Mattress! Toll box! Barely used! Army surplus!¡±


    It was fascinating, how the army sold a complete workshop''s worth of wagon parts as surplus so fast after the last slime campaign, but there wasn''t any surplus, barely used wagon on sale. The last campaign ended a day ago or so!


    ¡°No, that is the current slime campaign.¡± he was informed ¡°The surplus will be sold in a few weeks, including vehicles. The last campaign was a year ago.¡±


    ¡°You mix it up. The one last year wasn¡¯t a campaign, only an operation. The last campaign was two years ago.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you are right. We have all this junk for two years already?"


    ¡°No, just for one year. We got everything after the operation didn¡¯t escalate into a campaign.¡±


    All in all, refurbishing his wagon totaled barely fifteen schillinge, including work! It was almost a bargain ¨C but just almost. Prof got reminded of the old wisdom: if you want to buy a used vehicle, bring someone, who is good with technology, so the vehicle in question can be checked before handing over the money. It was good wisdom, as long there were multiple vehicles on sale. As soon as there was only one in the whole city, the wisdom just packed up and left for the library.


    On the other hand, if Prof knew, how rickety the wagon was, he probably wouldn¡¯t have bought it in the first place. As it is said, hindsight needs glasses. Or something.

 Chapter 19: The Show Mustn’t Go On, Part 3

    The two handymen¡­ handyorc and handyhob¡­ promised Prof, the wagon would be ready in three days and didn''t even charge anything extra for the out-of-turn job. Not, that there were other wagons sitting in the lot.


    Prof and a party had at least a time frame for their departure.


    The news, that something was up in the capital spread by the next day, with different groups of locals openly discussing the situation. Prof just hoped, that organizing the next spontaneous riot would take time, and they would be happily away by the time voluntarily provided furniture was set afire in the streets.


    There was a difference to Saugarten, though. There, Mythrill came out of nothing, but in Sumpfigerort the folks had some time to get to know the new kind of music. Most, who participated in the slime subjugation, had exposure and could appreciate the excellence. Also, Mythrillhead was playing in bars and even secured a gig to provide background music for some kind of farm work. Prof still had only a nebulous idea, of what agricultural entrepreneurs exactly did to their field and the plants and why.


    He still wasn''t overly interested in the issue, as an honest adventurer, he had more heroic things to do. He wisely read the mission descriptions since the tavern debacle and rejected all, that asked for help at farms. The one time, they visited Wolfgang at the farm, he was reinforced in his decision ¨C there were a few adventurers in full adventurer gear digging in the fields. Those poor sods probably failed to read the fine print. Miniskirts and leather straps didn''t look like they were made for field work ¨C especially, if said field work was working the fields.


    The other difference between the capital and the allegedly picturesque swampy city was the absence of the not-Guildmaster. Well, Sumpfigerort had a not-Guildmaster, but she wasn''t so heavy-handed as their nemesis. That was until the villain on duty fled to Sumpfigerort and asserted his dominance.


    Either the locals were too accustomed to Mythrill, or they were more tolerant or laid-back, but the not-Guildmaster''s campaign to discredit or ban the new music didn''t seem to get traction. Maybe he should have invested in Dire Fullteeth too ¨C even if they couldn''t pull his campaign, they could have carried his arguments. In the worst-case scenario, they would make excellent getaway vehicles.


    As they walked back to the Adventurers'' Guild to finally sell their loot from the last dungeon, they saw a few instances of contra-Mythrill agitation. For example, a group of obviously paid demonstrators were harassing a band, providing walking music. It was actually easy to realize, that they were paid ¨C in Greenskin society, it was considered as non-excellent to keep financial backers a secret, so the demonstrators actually sported a banner, informing everyone, that the demonstration was ordered and financed by the current head of the local Musicians'' not-Guild.


    ¡°That is actually an interesting concept," Prof told his party members.


    ¡°What, sending paid bandits to make some poor musician''s job even harder? He is actually quite good!" Mini was ready to defend the performance of her newest favorite music.


    ¡°Not that. That is done everywhere. I meant, telling everyone openly, who you are working for.¡±


    ¡°But if you already pay for thugs, why not pay for a proper mercenary band?¡± Bianca looked confused. In medieval times, demonstrations probably devolved into riots and looting anyway, so having proper mercenaries doing the demonstration in the first place was the better choice.


    ¡°Excuse me, miss. We aren''t common thugs!" one of the demonstrators, an angry-looking Hob, turned to the party "Demonstrating is honest and excellent work!"


    ¡°Well, it isn''t paying all that well, but as a side job, it''s good" A Goblin added, waving a stick around.


    ¡°Yeah, all you have to do is register at the Demonstrator¡¯s not-Guild, and if there¡¯s something, they send a runner.¡± Another Goblin elaborated, stopping his shouting for a short time.


    ¡°I actually happen to like this new music.¡± the first Hob said ¡°One of my cousins is a musician, and she was playing at the Slime Campaign.¡±


    ¡°That is excellent! See the singer? He¡¯s my cousin! I¡¯m so proud!¡± an Orc, holding the banner pointed at the harassed band¡¯s singer. ¡°As soon as we are done here, I will take him to a bar, where Mythrillhead is playing.¡±


    ¡°Folks! We are on a clock here! Demonstrate harder!" the head demonstrator admonished his fellow workers. Well, if you take a job, you should take it seriously, and not chat with random pedestrians and tourists instead of working hard. Of course, if your job is to chat with unfamiliar folks, you should do just that, but not as a means to avoid working. But, if you chat to avoid chatting, wouldn''t you actually do your work?


    Anyways.


    The whole party was looking at the demonstrators with bewilderment. The Greenskins pulled something completely unfamiliar, incomprehensible, inexplicable, and alien out of their bags every other day.


    ¡°I still think, hiring a proper mercenary band is the better choice.¡±


    ¡°Club them in the head, and sell them to a necromancer. There is always a need for skeletons and body parts.¡±


    ¡°Sssstab in kidneyssss.¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Prof asked. His party mostly wasn¡¯t this bloodthirsty. Not counting Mini. And Sharpclaw. Maybe Bianca.


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡°Doing a proper demonstration?¡±


    ¡°Getting rid of the guy, who harasses poor Mythrill-players?¡±


    ¡°Sssstabing alwayssss workssss.¡±


    ¡°No, not always. If you want to stab undead, you will have to do Critical Hits. Also, a magical weapon is good to have.¡± Mini corrected


    ¡°Smashing, crushing, beheading, burning, and mounting their head on pikes also works.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Bianca. That was informative."


    Prof had to concede, joining the Adventurer''s Guild was actually a good idea. Selling their loot through the Guild was much easier, with a lot less usage of [Commerce] and [Haggling] and less legwork to find a buyer ¨C although the prices were a little bit lower. Depending on how good his relevant Skills were in comparison to the merchant or crafter, he could have probably got five to ten percent more money. Or the same less. Either way, he would have to pay taxes, which were waived for Adventurers.


    Most of their income from the dungeon went right into a collection of potions. Actually, their service pay from the de-sliming went into those too. And some other funds too. In the end, Prof chose to pay with a smaller gem instead of coins. Everyone got three complete load-outs of Health, Resistance, and Enhancing Potions. Included in the purchase were some raw materials, a rudimentary alchemy kit, a few dozen empty earthenware vials, and a booklet for basic potions. And a few boxes of first aid stuff.


    Prof wanted to pick up [Alchemy] again, and while he wasn¡¯t exactly good, he could still manage to brew some last-resort potions. Just to be sure, he bought four empty waterskins too.


    From the tailor''s shop, they ordered some winter clothes ¨C and had to pay for them, even if they owned part of the shop. It was still cheaper than ordering from another one, but it still stung. Why own a shop, if you have to pay for the services? Wasn''t the stuff free for the owner? All that was needed was some creative account management, and everything was fine! Prof was almost sure, the was some kind of Skill for that too. Probably [Fraud] or something, potentially hidden behind some inconspicuous name. And most likely every local knew which Skill it was.


    As for winter clothes, Prof bought only a pair of thick trousers and something, that almost looked like a sweatshirt ¨C he still had his Lumberjack Shirt and his Dire Bear suba. Both have inbuilt air-conditioning.


    Mini, on the other hand, invested in something with a lot less fabric. Why she even bought new clothes, Prof wasn''t exactly sure. After all, she already had a few Saddlebags of Holding, full of fineries!


    ¡°They are winter clothes!¡± Mini was adamant


    ¡°First, winter clothes are thick, are padded, and have a lot of fabric. These have none of that. I can actually see through parts of it! Secondly, you came from the far North, don¡¯t you already have winter clothes?!¡±


    ¡°Of course, I have a lot of outfits for the winter! But those are Forestean fashion, these are Greenskinian! Don''t you want me to look presentable in foreign lands?!"


    ¡°Ehm, Miss Minerva, we are about to leave Ostwaldland. If you want to look like a local, you would need to buy a new set in the South!¡±


    ¡°Exactly! I see, you understand! This is the best part!¡±


    Prof refrained from further comments or questions. Like, why buy what amounted to summer dresses for the winter? Or why buy order local clothes, that looked markedly un-local? Anyway, Prof''s skill in female fashion wasn''t well-developed, and he was content that way. He just hoped, there wasn''t a Skill for it. He calculated even odds for that being the case.


    On the other hand, the winters in the South were probably like summers in the North for Mini. And she was always at room temperature, most likely it didn''t matter if the room was thirty or minus fifty degrees. Did undead freeze solid in cold, or were they immune to such? Asking her about her freezing modes probably wasn''t very gentlemanly.


    But would be answered nonetheless in a certain, copyrighted Minerva Pannonnii-way.


    At the warehouse, Prof found a crate of that strange paprika spirit and some other hard liqueurs to fuel his addiction. For sustenance, they set aside about a month''s worth of dried, semi-dried, and almost-fresh foodstuff ¨C again, they would be living on beans, peas, lentils, tubers, and other local versions of those. At least, this time they were able to get some cured meat, spices (among others hot paprika), and salt too.


    Prof planned to buy a few sacks of curing salt too, letting the hides of random monsters rot till they found a buyer was gross negligence and waste.


    Unfortunately, the warehouse didn''t contain any camping gear. Prof was loath to spend any money on it ¨C again ¨C while they still had a basically unused set a city away. In the end, he had to fork out the funds. It was getting cold, even during the day, and the nights were almost chilly. Even if they bought a mattress for the wagon, they didn''t have sheets, and there was room for only two ¨C at best. While Mini didn''t have any problems with sleeping on each other or cuddling up in a heap, Bianca most definitely had. Prof also wasn''t exactly convinced by the idea.


    Maybe if he truly was twenty-two, like his Character Parchment said, and not thirty-five, he may have thought, cuddling up with three females of different species would be awesome.


    In the end, they bought four small tents, bedrolls, sheets a selection of pillows, a couple of collapsible chairs, and a collapsible table. Not counting a cauldron, pans, spits, and a diverse selection of cooking utensils. Everyone still had [Cooking] at around or below 60%, Bianca being the best at 63%, but Prof was told, a good cooking set made using the Skill easier.


    Who would have thought, it was easier to cook, if someone had more, than an open firepit?


    Prof had conceded, that the new camping gear was much better than the previous one. It had more pieces and was of higher quality. Of course, without their new wagon, it would be cumbersome to transport, but currently, it looked like cozy travel. Maybe they could get a fridge too, and the RV would be complete!


    With most of the shopping done, all they had to do was wait for the repairs to be completed, and they would be on their way to sandy beaches, palm trees, beach bars, and cocktails! Probably also picturesque ancient ruins, every tourist on Earth would get wet panties from. After all, Arkadian civilizations were around much longer than Earth Humans, and civilizations were very good at making scenic ruins out of charming structures.


    Prof already knew, there were archaeologists on Arkadia, so it was probable, they did some excavation before plundering. Most likely, they didn¡¯t care to bury the ruins again, so nobody was standing in Prof¡¯s way to visit the detritus of hundreds of thousand years of sapient inhabitation.


    Well, if there were ruins and tourists, even the dumbest mayor would get the idea to put up a ticket booth for extra income.


    Or open a museum with freshly forged ancient treasures.

 Not-a-Chapter: Random Art

    First Character is Wolfgang Spielmeisterlieb Klavierspieler (strangely, no one called me out on the pun yet...)


    First, a generic Orc, practicing the guitar:


    </a>


    The next three are Wolfgang at The Most Excellent Concert (obviously, in the first picture, he is wearing a wig)


    </a>


    </a>


    </a>


    The next one is everyone''s favorite batshit crazy Vampire (that is her Royal Highness Minerva Pannonnii, aka Mini):


    The first one is herself being content after a job done well


    </a>


    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    And then... IT''S FUN TIME!


    </a>


    </a>


    </a>


    </a>


    But, you can''t forget, Mini is actually a marginally well-trained operative, and if she gets pissed, she gets pissed.


    </a>


    </a>


    Here is Prof (it was strangely much harder to find the right prompts and I didn''t like most of the images), doing what the title says - reading a Rulebook:


    </a>


    </a>


    A finally, Sharpclaw:


    Here, she is hiding behind all those barrels:


    </a>


    And here, she is ready to give your kidneys some undeserved fantasy-metal poisoning:


    </a>

 Chapter 19: The Show Mustn’t Go On, Part 4

    Soon, it was time for the farewell party. Wolfgang and the band never indicated they wanted to leave their country ¨C in fact, they planned to join the Mythrill faction in order to bring even more music to even more people. And bash folks over the head with axes and clubs, Adeltraut used as drumsticks, who didn¡¯t like the idea.


    Probably the excellent way, Greenskins did everything, had culturally ingrained rules, how and when bashing heads could be done, but Prof saw the whole thing in a different light. In a civil war, the winner was the part, who controlled a larger part of the army, could feed the army, and could kill more of the opposite side''s army, not the one with the better music.


    Having magic, and music, that carried the magic complicated things a little bit ¨C however, even the best musician wouldn''t survive long against a squadron of Hog Raiders.


    Most likely.


    Levels, Skills, and Perks probably had something to say too.


    Anyways, at least around Sumpfigerort, it looked like the army''s majority (and the Adventurers and most of the general populace) was firmly on the Mythrill-faction''s side. With enough armed and armored troops, Wolfgang''s faction had quite a good chance to convince everyone else, that Mythrill was indeed the better kind of music.


    The party was held in a tavern, Mythrillhead booked for the night. Wolfgang found a Goblin, who had good Skills and Perks in¡­ something, that let him organize events, and promote bands and who had contacts with other musicians, breweries, taverns, and the army. He even hired a new main singer ¨C a big Orc with the name of Werner.


    The music wasn''t provided by Prof''s friends, but by a few other, novice bands ¨C Mythrillhead wanted to spend time with the soon-to-be away party. The new bands were a mixed lot. Some were clearly experienced, with (probably) high Levels with good Skills and Perks, but relatively new to the latest fashion, while others were¡­ novices to say it politely. Even the¡­ initiates played with boundless enthusiasm, but as it usually was, enthusiasm didn''t substitute skill fully. Especially, if the Skills weren''t there either.


    Even Prof, who was quite tone deaf could hear those false riffs, off-key singing, and missed pacing, Wolfgang, and particularly Theodor visibly flinched a few times. Well, Mythrill was still quite new, and for some reason mostly beginners took up the axe.


    Some even experimented.


    Prof wasn''t exactly sure if Arkadia was ready for Massacre Doom or Undead Gore. It was strange, that there were three undead in Sumpfigerort, who were also musicians and took to Mythrill like¡­ well, worms to corpses. On the other hand, Greenskins had the same right to become undead as every other species, and musicians were as prone to un-die as other professions. The Undead were actually one of the better bands, and Deadian was quite a good language to sing something hard and heavy in.


    Not, that Prof understood a word. Mini, on the other hand, was ecstatic.


    ¡°This is hardcore! Yeah! I LOVE THIS! I LOVE YOU!" she fished a panty out of her bag and threw it on the stage. Obviously, she came prepared ¨C however, normal females probably wore the panties, and had to wiggle out of them in the middle of the crowd, but since it was Mini¡­ It was surprising, she had panties at all.


    Oh, wait, she had quite a collection of underwear but was saving them for special occasions. Or something. At least she did know, what underwear was for, and wore them sometimes. Mostly without other pieces of clothing, and mostly in the most inopportune situations.


    Just to be sure, everyone was watching her, so she wouldn''t dance more-or-less naked (even showing knees!) on a table or such. Giving attention to a narcissistic person was less of a problem than letting a narcissistic and sociopathic Vampire seek attention.


    Just as they left the bar after a night of excellent(ish) music, excellent, but still too sweet wine, truly excellent hot food, and having excellent fun, they and Mythrillhead were stopped by a mixed-species armed company.


    ¡°Freeze! You are under arrest for instigating a revolt and being un-excellent!" the gang''s boss declared. They didn''t exactly look like constables or soldiers, for that matter.


    ¡°Hey, do I know you? You look quite familiar!¡± Prof asked. ¡°Aren¡¯t you the guys, who wanted to shake down the beer-sellers at the concert?¡±


    ¡°No, we aren¡¯t those. So, freeze, and be placed under arrest!¡±


    ¡°No, no, I¡¯m quite certain, you are those thugs.¡±


    ¡°You are right, Prof. These are the bandits you made to strip in front of me!¡±


    ¡°You made so many people strip and didn¡¯t inform me?! You left me out of an epic orgy?!? You are evil!¡±


    ¡°No, miss, we definitely aren¡¯t those guys!¡±


    ¡°Clawssss on ballssss.¡± Sharpclaw flexed her claws threateningly.


    ¡°Please no!¡±


    ¡°Good to meet you folks again, anyways. If I¡¯m not mistaken, you still owe us money. And interest for the money, plus a lump sum for late payment. That would come to fifteen Schillinge total. How do you intend to pay?¡±


    ¡°That''s outrageous! That''s more than you fined us in the first place¡­ Ehmm¡­ you fined the guys, who aren''t us. You even took our¡­ ehmmm¡­ their gear!"


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    ¡°Boss, do we arrest them now? Or should we beat them up?¡±


    ¡°Since you want to arrest us, you are obviously constables. Care to show us your badges and the arrest warrant?¡± Wilhelm asked.


    ¡°What, do you think, you are a lawyer or something?¡±


    ¡°Actually, I¡¯m a lawyer, sanctioned by and a member of the Thieves¡¯ not-Guild in Saugarten, and also acknowledged by the local branch. So, badges and warrants?¡±


    ¡°Ehhhmmm¡­ We don''t have either, but we were hired by the honorable not-Guildmaster to make a citizen arrest!"


    ¡°There isn''t a citizen arrest in Ostwaldland, just so you know. What you are trying to do is kidnap citizens. You aren''t even doing it right. Let''s see. You tried to pose as constables, which is a crime. You also tried to infringe on the Thieves'' not-Guild''s territory, by trying to kidnap people. Legally, we could beat you up, and hand you over to either to the constabulary or the Thieves'' not-Guild, and sue you for damages suffered!"


    Maybe Prof shouldn¡¯t hire some kind of mage, but a lawyer to travel with them. Suing random Dire Wolves, Trolls and Slimes was probably easier, than beating them up. Every bywaymen would run for the hills as soon as Prof pulled a fearsome lawyer out of his pocket!


    ¡°Wait! We can beat them up legally?" Of course, Mini picked the most important thing out of the legal counsel. "Can we feed them to Binky? The poor boy hadn''t had a good meal in forever! Gremlins just have too much fat, the poor darling is almost round already!"


    Having a balanced diet was important, even for five hundred-kilo scorpionlizards.


    ¡°Oh, I know! We could kidnap them, and have an orgy!¡±


    ¡°No, Miss Minerva, not happening!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think, the law works that way¡­¡±


    ¡°Appropriating random passers-by for recreational copulation presuppose a permission of the Pleasure Providers'' not-Guild, and presumably a notification to the Thieves'' not-Guild, if the abduction isn''t done with the mutual endorsement."


    ¡°Wolfgang is right. We could beat them up, but can¡¯t snatch them for a quick orgy.¡±


    ¡°You are all spoilsports. All right, let¡¯s beat the bandits up!¡±


    ¡°Ehhmm¡­ Miss¡­ Could we just forget, we ever saw each other? We would be on our way.¡±


    ¡°Boss, can we go back to Fallaria? These Greenskins are crazy! You said, working as mercenaries would be easier, than banditry. So far we have been robbed once!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, Boss! We should go back to highway robbery! Maybe we could be hired by a toll station, if you want to do legal work. This mercenary stuff isn¡¯t for us!¡±


    ¡°WHAT?!? You idiots think this is honest mercenary work?!?!" For some reason, Bianca lost her cool "I will tell you, being a mercenary is a glorious career! You see new countries, meet interesting people, can participate in battles! Those are sometimes even legendary! What you cretins do isn''t even adventurer work!"


    ¡°Ah yeah, lady? You are the authority on mercenaries and adventurers, or what?!?¡±


    ¡°Oh, yeah! I¡¯m a veteran mercenary and an adventurer!¡±


    ¡°Boss, please stop antagonizing the nice people we planned to abduct!"


    ¡°So, are we beating them up or what?¡±


    ¡°Wait a second, Mini. Let¡¯s be civil. So, mister Bandit Boss, do we need to beat you up, or you are willing to give us the money, you owe us without a fuss? Unlike the last time, the starved and unhinged Vampire is with us.¡±


    ¡°We have a starved and unhinged Vampire? Who is it? Bianca? Sharpclaw? I don¡¯t think, they are Vampires. Adeltraut, are you secretly a Vampire?¡±


    Truly, even Mini couldn¡¯t be that oblivious! Oh, wait¡­


    ¡°No, Mini, Adeltraut isn¡¯t a Vampire. We have only one. You.¡±


    Here it comes.


    ¡°Me? Unhinged? I¡¯m just Sociopathic, Cruel, Unscrupulous, and Bloodthirsty! I¡¯m not unhinged!¡±


    ¡°Dear bandits, let me introduce you to our Vampire. So, get beaten up and hand over your valuables afterward, or simply hand over your valuables? What shall it be?"


    Even if they had rehearsed, it wouldn''t have gone better. They certainly haven''t rehearsed the performance. Prof was even prepared to sue everyone, who spread such false allegations ¨C after all, they had a lawyer, two carnivorous mounts, and a Vampire with¡­ unorthodox¡­ moral values to make the evidence disappear.


    Either being polite worked better, than expected, or having to face nine heavily armed adventurers and musicians while having only seven on their side let the thug¡¯s survival instinct kick in. Maybe having to face an unhinged Vampire, who boosted her [Intimidation] to the next continent had some influence too.


    No, it was definitely politeness.


    In the end, the tugs handed over all of their cash ¨C barely two schillinge and some pocket change ¨C and their better weapons and armor. Neither was worth much, in Earth terms, they were equivalent to the cheap African copy of a cheap Chinese copy of some cheap crap, sold at Tesco or Walmart. Most of the gear Prof even gave back to the thugs, since they were so worthless. Probably they would have to pay someone to get rid of that garbage.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t over yet!¡± yelled the thug¡¯s boss. He wasn¡¯t a complete moron, he did the yelling from the next corner.


    ¡°See, Mini, you can achieve everything by being polite even to random thugs.¡±


    ¡°I think, my solution would have been better. Beating up bandits is good exercise and free meals.¡±


    ¡°I agree with Miss Minerva in this regard.¡±


    ¡°Yessss. Sssstabbing ssssolvesss problemssss.¡±


    ¡°Prof, my friend, being polite works only as long, as you are in the majority and have higher Levels.¡±


    ¡°Actually, appropriating their tools of craft could be considered hindering and preventing. If they find a good lawyer, you will have problems. If they had attacked first, it would have been self-defense, and we would have been in the right."


    ¡°Aww, guys, don¡¯t be so bloodthirsty! We are civilized folks, in a civilized city of a very excellent country. Just beating up innocent bandits isn¡¯t excellent!¡±


    ¡°Can we at least kill them off next time?¡±


    ¡°Sure, why not.¡±

 Chapter 19: The Show Mustn’t Go On, Part 5

    ¡°I think, the not-Guildmaster is out for blood this time." Prof said, "During the concert, he just tried to hinder us, not send thugs to arrest us."


    ¡°Illegal arrest isn¡¯t equal to wanting to kill us off. That wouldn¡¯t be excellent!¡±


    ¡°Look, Wolfgang. No one just sends foreigner thugs to arrest someone illegally, so they could have beer and snacks. I can almost guarantee, no one would have found our corpses ever."


    ¡°Actually, you can find corpses quite easily. All you need is a marginally good necromancer. Oh, and a few other schools of magic are good at finding missing people too! Not to forget [Investigation] and [Tracking] and quite a few Perks. That''s assuming, the corpse doesn''t come knocking at your door on its own."


    ¡°I thought, undead were created and don¡¯t just crawl out of a ditch on their own.¡±


    ¡°Well, mostly we need some kind of ritual, the higher order the undead is, the more complex the ritual needs to be. However, in certain circumstances, an undead can form on its own.¡±


    ¡°Thank you. Anyways, we would be dead, no matter, if our corpses would be found or not. I personally wouldn¡¯t like to die.¡±


    ¡°You would make a cute undead! Not a Skeleton, though, you wouldn''t be able to keep your best appendage. It would be a pity. Nor a Vampire. Maybe a¡­"


    ¡°Could we focus on the part of not-dying?¡±


    ¡°Prof is right, Miss Minerva. The not-Guildmaster crossed a line. I would suggest a pre-emptive termination.¡±


    ¡°My friends, are you really planning to kill a not-Guildmaster? Changing management through a grassroots initiative isn¡¯t the most excellent thing to do.¡±


    ¡°If I remember correctly, you bashed him over the head with a guitar.¡±


    ¡°That was an artistic-historical debate!¡±


    ¡°See? You can debate with him again, but this time, use your axe. His dying that way would be just an accident. Honestly! Everyone could see that!"


    ¡°Miss Minerva, we aren''t Red Elves. Even with their ''accidents'' no one seriously believes the accident part."


    ¡°Plausible deniability can only go so far. We should sue him for preventing and hindering, and attempted abduction without the Thieves¡¯ Not-Guild¡¯s consent.¡±


    ¡°If you want to do that, Wolfgang, be my guest. Come tomorrow, we are away anyway, and out of his hands. You are the ones, who will live with the aftermath. I personally would rather go see sights than play a part in an assassination of local dignitaries."


    ¡°Wolfgang, I think, the adventurers are right." surprisingly it was Wilhelm, who went for the violent option. Obviously, lawyers were able to realize, when the time came, they couldn''t win by bending the laws and had to ask vigilantes for help. Or highly professional, high-Level adventurers. As none were currently around, however, he had to be satisfied by what was available "While I''m certain, we could get Greenskin musicians, thieves, and lawyers to make a move on the not-Guildmaster, that would easily lead to another riot and would make the current almost civil war heat up even more. I do think, the not-Guildmaster wasn''t and isn''t behaving in an excellent way, and our friends here are correct. He has to be silenced in a quiet way." Everyone, save for Wolfgang, nodded to that piece of wisdom.


    Prof started to have a bad feeling. Surely, the band and the rest of his party didn¡¯t want to drag him into a local political quarrel! While the not-Guildmaster was out for his blood, Prof was perfectly fine to relocate to a different country. World-altering acts were not his thing ¨C even if he accidentally played a role in foiling a genocide committed by Elves, and finding a long-lost national treasure.


    And organizing Arkadia¡¯s very first Mythrill concert.


    ¡°We should start planning.¡± Bianca took the lead.


    ¡°No need for a plan. They mostly fall apart as soon as the battle is joined anyway. Just go in, start kicking ass and taking names! It mostly worked for me."


    ¡°Pleasssse ssspeak other language. No underssstand. Sssstabbing?¡± Oh, yeah, they were talking in Greenskinnian, and Sharpclaw still hadn¡¯t learned the language.


    ¡°Yes, Sharpclaw, we are going to stab the not-Guildmaster.¡±


    Obviously, no one felt it necessary to cast a vote ¨C on the other hand, everyone else was from a medieval society, and democracy wasn''t yet invented in Arkadia. Be as it may, Prof wasn''t asked for his opinion. Maybe he could be the get-away driver? Or the guy, who wasn''t present at all? Letting the others kill a few random bywaymen wasn''t the same as killing a dignitary off. Even with Mini''s "training" in the Human Dungeon, Prof still wasn''t exactly comfortable with just murdering folks. Even if said folks tried to order his death first.


    ¡°Even if the initial plan falls apart, we should have one to start with. And an alternate plan, an emergency plan, and a plan in case the emergency plan fails.¡±


    ¡°Too many plans, Bia. I say, we kick down his door, pile on him, and feed the remains to Binky and Sleepy. There! A plan!¡±


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    Even if Prof wasn¡¯t fully convinced of the necessity of the hit, he couldn¡¯t stand by and watch Mini¡¯s foolproof plan unfold.


    ¡°Look, Mini. We don''t even know, where he currently resides. We don''t know, how many bodyguards he has. More importantly, we don''t know his Level, Skills and Perks. First, we should collect information."


    ¡°And then we kick his door in, pile on him, and feed the remains¡­¡±


    ¡°No. We then make a plan with the least risk and highest chance to succeed.¡±


    ¡°All right, all right. We can run a few simulations. Prepare your Character Parchments, Rulebooks, and dice!"


    As it transpired, their epic information-gathering quest could be done within a few minutes. Obviously, even in a medieval city, the locals knew, where local dignitaries lived, and how many followers they had. Actually, especially medieval people knew such details. With smaller settlements and lower population density, the chance to vanish in the faceless masses was smaller.


    Or non-existent.


    If the person in question was a dignitary and made waves, remaining anonymous was even harder.


    The wannabe assassins actually didn¡¯t even need to ask that many questions ¨C the not-Guildmaster was holed up in the Musician¡¯s not-Guild, right across from the Adventurer¡¯s Guild, and when Mythrillhead was walking towards the guildhouse, they stumbled upon their target.


    Quite literally.


    The not-Guildmaster was having breakfast in front of the not-Guildhouse when a distracted Adeltraut stepped on him. How distracted Ogres didn''t step on sitting Goblins more often was one of the Greenskin land''s biggest mysteries. Why those smaller Greenskins didn''t die, was another. On the other hand, having higher Levels meant a higher amount of HP, and even Ogres couldn''t step so hard, that Goblins died in one hit. That was true even if an Ogre accidentally kicked the Goblin in the head afterward.


    On Arkadia Goblins even had enough life force and resolve to start a shouting match with the completely innocent part with attention deficits.


    That, logically, brought one side''s friends into the altercation, which, also quite logically, got the un-excellent, impolite other party''s bodyguards and employees to participate. Prof wasn''t exactly sure, how two dozen armed people shouting at each other was regarded by the locals and the local law, but back on Earth, such family discussions meant the speedy arrival of the riot police. And the next day the news would be full with the story.


    Not on Arkadia, though. Well, the constabulary did arrive in a more or less fast-ish way, but it was guaranteed, that the news agencies wouldn''t report it. Mostly, because there weren''t news agencies, not even in Ostwaldland.


    If one didn''t include the grapevine and the basic rumor mill.


    At least they were able to determine, how many helpers the not-Guildmaster had. Everyone was using [Observe] as fast as they could too ¨C even Prof, who remembered to do so just in time. Even after all those months on Arkadia, it was still counter-intuitive for him to actively observe someone for their Levels. It was definitely different to checking out girls back on Earth, or making a big circle around dangerous-looking folks.


    Here, he was able to check, if those folks were truly dangerous, or were just posturing.


    For the not-Guildmaster, no one was able to get a reading, which meant, he was at least Level 20 or so. Or had a very high [Camouflage]. Or was it [Acting]? It was probably the high Level, he was a not-Guildmaster, after all.


    He had three bodyguards ¨C if [Observe] was right, somewhere in the twenties, Levelwise ¨C and half a dozen other attendants. Every last one of those was pegged as at or below Level 10. Assuming, there wasn''t a high-Level assassin or spy or something, who could falsify his Level, the attendants were manageable in case of direct conflict. Hopefully.


    The biggest problems were the bodyguards ¨C not counting their main target. The highest Level was an Orc in heavy, mixed armor and sporting a claymore (with attached strings) and a large shield on his back. Combined with the heavy armor, metal breastplate, and greaves with a chainmail shirt and coif, he was probably the wall.


    The second was a Goblin female with light armor and a small, but wicked-looking crossbow ¨Cit had a collapsible bayonet and some spikes ¨C, while the third one was a Hobgoblin in medium armor, using an arming sword and a shield.


    ¡°Did you see the Orc with the claymore-tar?" Wolfgang asked him, after they settled in the Adventurer''s Guild''s bar "He is what we call a noise marine. One of the strongest kinds of musical combatant."


    ¡°Did you say marine? How could you have a marine, when you don¡¯t even have a coast?¡±


    ¡°Dunno. It¡¯s an ancient term, we use marine as a synonym for elite soldier. Probably a famous ancestor once used marines to do things, and the name stuck.¡±


    That was just fantastic. They had to face some kind of elite noisemaker with a sword-guitar to make noise with. The easiest way would have been probably to let Mini headshot their main target from afar.


    ¡°What would be the fun in that?¡± asked Mini, as soon as Prof voiced his opinion. Well, the fun would have been a secure chance to not get hurt. And staying alive. Well, Prof was quite used to living, it was almost like an addiction by this time.


    ¡°Why get close and personal¡­¡± As soon as Prof started talking, he realized his mistake. He was talking to Mini, after all.


    ¡°Because close and personal, you can do things to and with other people!" Yeah, exactly. With Mini, everything degenerated into either bloodshed or having a good time in short order. Prof was undecided, about which would be worse in regards to the not-Guildmaster. Why couldn''t they just leave and see the sights? He even bought a travel guide to Southern Ostwaldland and the Human lands beyond!


    According to it, there were quite a few natural and architectural wonders about (including some picturesque ruins) ¨C and since Arkadians hadn¡¯t invented entry fees yet, all of them were free!


    But no, he had to participate in an assassination, instead of driving around in his almost-luxurious, almost-new wagon!


    Life was cruel.


    ¡°I wanted to tell you, that a cousin of one of the Mythrill-players I know is still working in the Musician''s not-Guild. My friend assured me, that her cousin would be willing to help us. She said, her cousin would be meeting with us during his lunch break." Wolfgang informed them.


    Maybe that cousin could help them poison their enemy? Slipping a little bit of cyanide, or some kind of fantasy drug in the not-Guildmaster''s tea would be enough. Of course, they would need to buy said poison first, but still. Every apothecary, alchemist, and convenience store just had unregulated, lethal poisons on sale, right? Right?

 Chapter 19: The Show Mustn’t Go On, Part 6

    ¡°You won''t get in through the front door." the cousin told them while shoveling spicy stew into his mouth. "There are about a dozen different attendants there at any given time, and our very honored new not-Guildmaster stationed at least two Clay Bands there too. I would like you not to kill off my co-workers. Some are even my friends.¡±


    ¡°Greenskinian windows are too narrow to get through that way." Prof observed, "Is there any other way inside?"


    ¡°Sure there is. We have a kitchen entrance in the back.¡±


    ¡°Surely heavily defended too?¡±


    ¡°No, not really. Only Treesqueezers and Pinkskins would be so insidious to invade through the backdoor, and we don¡¯t have many of either here.¡±


    ¡°What about thieves? They would quite likely use an undefended backdoor for some pillaging!¡±


    ¡°Yes, this is exactly, why the kitchen door isn¡¯t defended! If we would lock and defend it, that would be preventing and hindering the thieves, and that would be illegal! Also, most thieves announce themselves before they make a move, so we can prepare ourselves. Or they just go through the front door, and try to sneak around, if they are in for a challenge. Either way, no Greenskin thief would steal valuable things from other Greenskins.¡±


    ¡°Yeah! If the Thieves'' not-Guild wants to make money, they just send in the tax collectors or a lawyer!" their resident law bender added.


    Prof almost forgot, how alien Greenskin society was. Being excellent to each other was more important, than protecting your valuables from thieves ¨C but thieves won''t steal anything valuable to begin with, since that wouldn''t be excellent. A sufficiently amoral Traveller could probably rob Ostwaldland, Dunkelgr¨¹nen, Gr¨¹nen-Anhalt, and all the other small Greenskin countries blind within a year.


    Since it didn¡¯t happen already, either there wasn¡¯t a thieving Traveller yet, or he was killed off in short order. Based on the zeal the Elves hunted poor dimensional migrants, and what Sandy told him in the Afterlife Office, the second possibility was probably more likely.


    So, if no other Traveller had done such things yet, the time was right for Prof being the first.


    ¡°We should go through the backside!¡± he declared


    ¡°Oh, naughty boy! I¡¯m up to it! Who wants to participate? In what order do you want to go?¡±


    ¡°Miss Minerva, you are vulgar again. I¡¯m quite certain, Prof didn¡¯t mean in that way.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I know. But we have time, so¡­¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡±


    ¡°Not a chance.¡±


    ¡°Never.¡±


    ¡°Not with me.¡±


    ¡°Not sssspeak language!¡±


    With that slight distraction cleared up, their informant provided them with a detailed description of the not-Guildhouse. Not really surprisingly, the floor plan was identical to most Greenskin buildings Prof visited. Well, it wasn''t surprising to the local Greenskins, since they probably already knew the standardized layout of their buildings. Everyone else was surprised.


    The ground floor¡¯s main hall was utilized as a bar, lecture hall, and of course, a concert hall ¨C it was the Musicians¡¯ not-Guild, after all. The smaller rooms were used mostly as practice rooms, while the first floor was used for offices and storage. The second floor was occupied by bunkrooms and a few suites. The not-Guildmaster commandeered the largest of those for his own use, including an office.


    Unfortunately, the spy couldn''t say much about their future enemy''s Stats, Skills, and Perks. On Arkadia, that was the most important thing ¨C the number of Skill Points per Level depended on Stats and Perks, and how someone distributed their Points could make a huge difference. Not even counting what and how much was trained without a convenient Level Up to throw Skill Points at any problem.


    And Perks¡­ According to the game¡¯s Rulebook ¨C Prof read everything twice so far, plus that one time, when he thought, it was The Rulebook ¨C there were quite a few terrific and awesome Perks out there. Even if the rules were for a game, they were similar enough to Arkadia¡¯s real rules. Even if someone was of a low Level, but had a good Perk, he could have been more dangerous, than a higher Leveled one with weak Perks.


    More dangerous as in ¡°kill everyone with just one hit¡±.


    Their informant could provide them with only a few hints about the not-Guildmaster: he wasn''t really good in fighting Skills, but was quite good in [Art: Music] and [Magic: Music]. And allegedly had quite a few Skills and Perks related to politicking. Prof translated that to proficient liar and thief, congoblin, high demagogy, and backstabbing (no matter, if those were Skills or Perks). Probably with [Convincing] and [Oratory].


    That probably meant, he was a squishy ¨C and the explanation for the three bodyguards.


    Although magic was well and good (as were soft skills), and any mage could probably flatten a village, being a glass trebuchet wasn''t an insurance against cold steel to the kidneys. Armor was part of an insurance, probably that was the reason, that most of the magic users during the Slime Campaign were running around in at least leather armor. There was even one, that had full plate mail.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Cat told him, that having rigid gear made casting more problematic, but most marginally proficient casters accepted that for added protection. Well, the magic users, who weren''t adventurers ¨C for that style was more important. Mostly.


    As for the not-Guildmaster, no one saw him in anything but normal, everyday clothing ¨C rich, everyday clothing, to be precise. Since magical gear was a thing on Arkadia, wearing only cloth meant not much, magical clothes could have better armor ratings, than poor-quality plates.


    Of course, assuming one could afford it.


    A not-Guildmaster most likely could pay for some nice stuff.


    ¡°So¡­ Your enemy¡¯s magic liquefied your brain. Your adventure ends here.¡±


    ¡°The noise marine thrust his claymore into your stomach and played a tune on your guts. Your adventure ends here."


    ¡°Headshot! Your adventure ends here.¡±


    ¡°You fall unconscious. Your adventure ends here.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on, Mini! Why does everyone always attack just me, and not the others?!"


    ¡°Prof, my friend. If you rush into a room as the vanguard, the occupants logically will attack you first. If you don¡¯t want to die, you should hold back. Bianca here is the wall, after all, not you.¡±


    ¡°But you all told me, since I''m the fastest, I should go first and should try to land a few hits!"


    ¡°Isss not working.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I figured out that much.¡±


    ¡°Next try?¡±


    ¡°Sure. This time, Bianca should go first, though.¡±


    Even Bianca died a few times. Finally, Prof snatched their enemies¡¯ Character Parchments from Mini. He had a suspicion.


    ¡°What?! Did all these folks grow up in a cave?!?! Look! You put almost every Skill point into their main Skills! Above 400% in a select few Skills, but everything else is on base value! And the Perks! How did you come up with all these values?"


    ¡°Let me take a look!¡± Bianca slid next to Prof ¡°Miss Minerva, why exactly do they each have 150% in [Party] and [Sex]?¡±


    ¡°Because every high-level person should have it so high? Besides, it''s best to plan with the worst-case scenario, not the for the easy way!"


    ¡°Right. Oh, wait! You have Irresponsible! What could possibly go wrong? Ring a bell? I think this is just you being Cruel!¡±


    ¡°Hey! Being Irresponsible doesn¡¯t mean, I¡¯m dumb! My unmatched Intelligence is 16, in case you forgot! I¡¯m the most intelligent person currently in the room!¡±


    ¡°Not counting Prof, Miss Minerva.¡±


    ¡°Mine is 17.¡± Wilhelm provided


    ¡°Look, Bia, my dear. Prof¡¯s Intelligence may be higher, but he doesn¡¯t use that Stat all that much. And he doesn¡¯t have all those extremely important Skills like I do!¡±


    ¡°And what about me?¡± Wilhelm asked


    ¡°You thought, becoming a lawyer was a good idea. I rest my case.¡±


    ¡°Anyway, without knowing the approximate Skills and Perks this simulation isn''t going to help us much." Prof ended the bickering about who was the most intelligent. The most intelligent people usually didn''t need to prove, they were the most intelligent. Only those, who weren''t at the pinnacle of intelligent-ness felt themselves inferior enough to jump through loops.


    Like a certain Vampire. Who was also narcissistic.


    Well, and a lot of experts on the TV and on video platforms.


    Anyhow, Prof was definitely the most intelligent person in the room (even if he didn¡¯t have a lot of scientific Skills), and was almost at the pinnacle of humanly possible. Even his Character Parchment said so! No further proof was needed!


    ¡°Ah, and what do you propose? Asking them for their Character Parchments?¡±


    ¡°Maybe if I ask politely¡­¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡±


    ¡°Forget it.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s sensitive private information.¡±


    ¡°Or we could hire someone with a high enough [Observe]?¡±


    ¡°That would be expensive. Are you willing to pay?¡±


    ¡°Expensive?!? No way, I¡¯m willing to pay for an expensive professional! We are almost broke again!¡±


    Prof remembered something, Wolfgang told him about Greenskin duels. They could maybe challenge the not-Guildmaster and hit him over the head repeatedly with something hard and heavy. But, no. The band wouldn''t stand for an assassination mid-brawl¡­ ehm¡­ mid scientific exchange. That wouldn''t be excellent. They would rather lose than win by being not-excellent.


    It was a wonder, the Greenskins were still present on Arkadia. Being always excellent was¡­ well, excellent, but as soon as the other species weren''t playing by the same rules, sticking to being excellent was the same as shooting yourself in the knee. With a crossbow.


    ¡°We could try to assassinate some of the bodyguards, at least.¡±


    ¡°Assassinating folks isn''t excellent," Wolfgang warned him


    ¡°Ehmmm¡­ Kill them openly?¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t excellent either.¡±


    ¡°Hey, we are planning to invade their headquarters through the kitchen door and kill every last one of them! I doubt that is excellent!"


    ¡°Well, while it isn¡¯t exactly excellent, it is justified by the not-Guildmaster not being excellent, and it is covered by the law. Killing them, especially the bodyguards on the street isn¡¯t excellent, and it is against the law. Trust me, I¡¯m a lawyer! Those two are completely different things!¡±


    Alien logic, there was it again. No normal Earth-Human (and probably no normal Arkadia-Human either) would be able the understand the difference. Luckily, Prof didn¡¯t need (or wanted) to understand, firstly, because he had a trustworthy lawyer, and secondly, because he wanted to regroup outside of Greenskinlands to begin with. Most likely there wasn¡¯t a cross-border police force on Arkadia yet, and there weren¡¯t extradition laws either. Well, there was a cross-border assassination force, but Red Elves had nothing to do with foreigners causing accidents to Greenskin not-Guildmasters.


    Either way, it was probably a good idea to listen to locals. After all, they knew, how their countries worked.


    Their discussions of how excellent it was to shove deadly implements into the bodies of other people were rudely interrupted, however.


    ¡°I have a proposition for you.¡±

 Chapter 19: The Show Mustn’t Go On, Part 7

    The noise marine looked down on everyone present. That wasn¡¯t because he wasn¡¯t excellent and an entitled twat with delusions of grandeur and thought, everyone was beneath him.


    In a sense, everyone was beneath him ¨C or at least below his eye level. Being a tall Orc, while everyone else was sitting, there was no way not to look down on them. The sole exception was Adeltraut. It was very hard to look down on an Ogre, even if she was sitting. In fact, it was she, who was looking down on the noise marine. Well, she managed to look down on Goblins and random Kobolds while she was lying down, but, well¡­


    ¡°Good day to you. Can we be of assistance?" Prof flexed his gentleman muscles. It was never a bad idea to be polite to heavily armed and armored people, especially, if they were of a higher Level. And were referred to as elite combatants.


    ¡°The not-Guildmaster is being not-excellent. It''s a disgrace to all Greenskinkind." Surprisingly, the Orc had a very nice, sing-song voice, and was speaking in an educated way. His tone and speech were rather destined for an opera house, not for the battlefield.


    ¡°While I think, Mythrill is disgusting, and unbefitting for Greenskins, forbidding it is not-excellent. Sending thugs, especially foreign thugs to beat up a Redcap¡­ That is outrageous.¡±


    ¡°You are planning to switch sides?¡± Prof asked


    ¡°No, that is not possible. Leaving a contract before it¡¯s fulfilled would be not-excellent. However, there is a loophole. If you defeat us, the bodyguards, in a fair fight, we would be required to not fight you again.¡±


    ¡°That''s it? Anyone could neutralise bodyguards just by beating them in a fair fight?!" that sounded not like a loophole, but like a loopgate or something. It was too easy and made bodyguards basically useless.


    ¡°Of course, it''s not so easy. The bodyguards in question have to issue the challenge with the Bodyguards'' not-Guild presiding over the duel. Both sides will have obligations after the duel is done. For your party it would mean, you wouldn''t be able to make a move on the not-Guildmaster for a month and a day."


    ¡°Or else?¡±


    ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be excellent. Besides, the whole Bodyguards¡¯ not-Guild would be on you, if you did.¡±


    ¡°How are we going to do this? Get out on the street and start a brawl?¡±


    ¡°Oh right, you are a Pinkskin, you wouldn''t know. So, both teams have to have the same number of contestants, as far as possible with the same specialization, Level, and Skill Levels. There are rules in place if one side is underleveled or underskilled. Anything else wouldn''t be fair and thus excellent."


    ¡°Compared to you three, our party and band can be definitely considered both. What kind of edge do we get?¡±


    ¡°We are Level 26, 22, and 20, respectively, so you can have a low-Level team with a sum of¡­ say¡­ 53 Levels."


    ¡°Let''s see¡­ Our best are Bianca at Level 13, Wolfgang at Level 12, Mini, and Theodor at Level 10. We need another eight Levels'' worth." Prof''s 54% in [Mathematics] was obviously high enough to add three numbers together and realize, the sum was lower than another number. He was even able to figure out, how much the difference between those numbers was. With a bit of luck (or Luck) he would have even been able to pass a graduation test. At a primary school.


    ¡°Yes, you could add another contestant with a Level of 8 at most.¡±


    ¡°And you would still have an edge.¡±


    ¡°Naturally. You could gain more with this duel than us, so it is logical, we would have an edge.¡±


    ¡°So, we need another person, with Level 8 at most. Right. Hey, why is everyone looking at me?!¡±


    Indeed, everyone was looking at him expectantly ¨C even Sharpclaw, who didn¡¯t speak Greenskinian. Why was everyone always taking advantage of poor Central European expats? What next? Washing dishes? Do hard and smelly work?


    ¡°You do realize, my friend, you are the only one, who fits the criteria?¡±


    ¡°Nonono. There are three others, who are at or below Level 8 besides me!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m absolutely useless in a fight.¡± Wilhelm told him ¡°The best, I could do is to lawyer them to death. That would be just cruel. And not excellent.¡±


    ¡°No one would expect an Ogre to fight too. They are peaceful and pacifists." Theodor added while the peaceful, pacifist Ogre in question nodded, hefting her mauls¡­ ehmmm¡­ drumsticks to her shoulders. Prof could almost believe the peaceful and pacifist parts.


    ¡°Also, would you send a poor, Level 5 Kobold into a duel to the death against high-Level professionals? That''s not exactly gentlemanly" Even Mini piled on him. Of course, Prof wouldn''t have sent some under-leveled person to certain death. That included himself too.


    ¡°The duel isn''t to the death, but until one of the sides is incapacitated." lasting, grave injuries sounded much better, than instant death. No, not really. If you lost an arm but survived, you still had the absence of an arm, while if you lost an arm and died¡­ You usually didn''t care about lost appendages anymore. Maybe if you were an Undead. But those could just reattach anything detached. Right?


    ¡°What, not to the death?!?! I¡¯m already dead, so I would have instantly won!¡±


    ¡°Miss Minerva, until death doesn¡¯t¡­¡±


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡°Yes, Bia, darling. I know! I¡¯m not some idiot!¡± Well, maybe she wasn¡¯t an idiot (the jury was still out on that question), but she certainly was clinically insane. There was no way to tell, what she meant seriously, and what was only her¡­ colourful¡­ personality asserting itself.


    Either way, after Prof was successfully dragged into the whole duel thing and other people''s problems, Wolfgang and the noise marine hashed out the details. The duel was scheduled to dawn, the next day, and according to the terms, everyone could use every magical trinket and potion currently in their possession. Unfortunately, no pets, mounts, and such were allowed ¨C sending Binky and Sleepy in would have ended the challenge quite fast. Maybe even Binky alone. That monster was simply a¡­ well, monster.


    Normally, granting a high-Level team access to their full collection of magical stuff wouldn¡¯t have been a good idea. On Arkadia, however, that kind of gear wasn¡¯t too prevalent, and mostly not overly powerful. Simply put, they were too expensive for most people.


    Actually, Prof''s party, and to a certain degree Mythrillhead were quite overgeared, not just for their Level, but in an absolute manner. Plundering the Hags of their collection, and spending said gains for even more stuff, and almost everyone was able to equip themselves almost completely. That was even without Mini''s truly massive outfit stock of questionable utility. Prof somehow doubted the Vampire could scandalize the bodyguards enough so that they threw the towel. Well, she could flash some body parts as a diversion.


    However, high-Level individuals probably reached those high Levels because diversions didn''t work on them to begin with.


    ¡°I have a plan!" Mini declared after the noise marine left the building "I will take care of the crossbow-Goblin, Bia will wall the main target, Wolfgang will play hard and heavy, we need all the good stuff from you, the rest of you dispatch the Hobgoblin first, and then we all attack that Bia''s boyfriend."


    ¡°He¡¯s not my boyfriend!¡±


    ¡°After getting close and personal, pitting one body against another, he should be your boyfriend or husband! Bad Bia!¡±


    ¡°Why do you have to always sound so dirty, Miss Minerva?¡±


    ¡°¡¯Cause it¡¯s fun!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so.¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡±


    ¡°Not really.¡±


    The plan, Mini came up with, wasn''t actually bad. One simply doesn''t attack the strongest enemy head-on, one-to-one, while neglecting the small fry. Well, small fry in this case meant, double the Level their best had.


    ¡°Why don''t we send Sharpclaw after the not-Guildmaster while we entertain his bodyguards?" Prof found an interesting point. "He would be defenseless."


    ¡°That wouldn¡¯t be excellent. Taking advantage of an enemy¡¯s momentary weakness, while their caretakers are away on a sanctioned duel would lead to repercussion.¡±


    ¡°Let me guess, the whole Bodyguards¡¯ Not-Guild breathing down our necks?¡±


    ¡°Correct.¡±


    The rest of the day went by testing their plan ¨C first at the desk, using Arkadia¡¯s game rules, and then on a field, rehearsing their teamwork. Obviously, they couldn¡¯t ask the bodyguards to play along ¨C although, that would have been excellent ¨C so the rest of Mythrillhead had to stand in as villainous minions.


    It wasn¡¯t overly realistic, though. Most of the musicians were even lower Level than their best frontliners, and those were half the Level of their future enemies. At least they could train how to react to Mini¡¯s commands.


    Entrusting an insane bimbo with battlefield overwatch and calling shots wasn''t a good idea ¨C at first glance. What Prof and everyone else, even off-Arkadia, had to remember, was that Mini was pre-ritual even higher Level, than the noise marine. As a trusted vassal (and a member of the ruling class or something), she picked up quite a few things during the years and Levels. Mostly clothes, but still. She actually had the highest [Command] Skill in the whole assembly. An incredible 66%! Her [Small Unit Tactics] was the second highest after Bianca ¨C an unbelievable 62%.


    ¡°Now, everyone, strip!¡± And she was still insane.


    The party didn''t have many problems to iron out, after all, they had been killing wildlife for some time together. Everyone already knew, what to expect from everyone else, what they were capable of, and how everyone would react to certain situations. Their biggest challenge was to compensate for the absence of Binky and Sharpclaw.


    That, and integrating two musicians.


    Actually, Wolfgang wasn''t hard to work with, they had already some experience with each other killing off evil, loot-stealing, and hoarding Hags, and he was to hang back and play some nice fighting music in the first place. [Magic: Music] and [Magic: Sound] were excellent things to have, if one wanted that certain edge in a life-or-death (or life-or-serious injury) fight.


    The only one, who really needed integration and assessment was Theodor.


    While the Goblin was foremost a musician, he proved the truth, Prof found out too: specializing overly much got you killed on Arkadia, and got you killed fast. Next to passable [Evade], [Parry], [Block] and [Acrobatics] he was very good in [Hand-to-Hand Combat] and [Throwing] ¨C and had a few Perks too. Unfortunately, most of those were only good in a bar fight, not on open ground. Why a musician felt compelled to be a good bar fighter too, Prof didn¡¯t understand.


    Well, when you mostly play in bars, that was the location, where you discussed the finer points of art with your critics. Throwing a mug at the face of someone, who voiced his displeasure at the current song, was probably a very good skill for every aspiring musician. Doubly so, if you didn''t miss a note while doing so.


    Watching Theodor jumping around while trying to land a hit on Wilhelm reminded Prof of an old movie, where another small green bugger jumped around in a hanger. Theodor magic did not have, unfortunately.


    Well, magic, that helped with jumping around and punching people in the face. Magic, that was fitting for a musician, he was quite good at it.


    ¡°Ted, you have magic! Use it to stagger Bill!¡± Mini ordered. If singing someone to death was possible, why not use that ability to, well, sing someone to death?


    ¡°You mean, shout at him? Would that be excellent?¡±


    ¡°Sure! It¡¯s a Skill and a Spell! Here, try it on Prof.¡±


    ¡°Wait a minute! Why me?!?!¡±


    ¡°You have higher resistances than our friend Bill there.¡±


    ¡°Eh, Mini, could you please stop calling us Bill and Ted? Somehow I feel like a moron every time you do that.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, it isn¡¯t excellent.¡±


    ¡°Fine. Theodor, would you please shout magically at Prof? You may punch him too.¡±


    The thing Theodor did wasn¡¯t shouting. It was a magical, very loud, and directed belch. It somehow even rhymed.


    Oh, and Prof could tell, Theodor had onions and dog sausages for lunch.

 Chapter 19: The Show Mustn’t Go On, Part 8

    The spell was most likely a combination of [Magic: Sound] and [Magic: Nausea]. Maybe [Magic: Smell]. That, or Theodor really had to consume a breath-refreshing potion after eating smelly food.


    But that gave Prof a splendid idea.


    ¡°Theodor, before the duel, please eat as much smelly food as possible! Not just those cheap dog sausages and onions, but garlic too. A lot of garlic! And that fermented fish I saw on the market! And pickled cabbages! And, and, and¡­ everything else, that is smelly and gives bad breath!¡±


    ¡°Wasn¡¯t my Spell enough?¡±


    ¡°My ears are still ringing, but your breath¡­ Oh, Heavenly Game Master! I¡¯m still getting sick!¡±


    ¡°Prof, that is actually a splendid idea! Could have come from me! Hey, I actually have a potion, that gives insanely bad breath! Theodor, you can have it! Here!¡±


    ¡°Why is there a potion, that gives bad breath? And why do you have it?¡±


    ¡°Well, there is a potion for everything! Once I found a potion, that made me¡­¡±


    ¡°Focus, Mini!¡±


    ¡°Well, I picked this potion up from someone I picked up somewhere.¡±


    ¡°Let me see." Prof took the small glass vial for a thorough examination. Well, it wasn''t exactly "small", being two deciliters in volume. After taking a sniff, he turned back to Mini. "You do realise, this isn''t a potion, but a cooking ingredient? It mostly has garlic and oil, and a few other things in it. I think it would be quite tasty on bread and dry pastries."


    ¡°Bah! It¡¯s in a vial and does stuff. It is a potion!¡±


    ¡°So, if I put hard booze into a vial, that would be potion too, if we follow your logic.¡±


    ¡°Of course, it would be a potion! A Drunk-Making Potion!¡±


    ¡°But, if I leave it a bottle, it wouldn¡¯t be a potion?¡±


    ¡°It would be a potion, but in larger packaging!¡±


    ¡°Prof, I think, Mini is pulling your leg again.¡± Bianca, as the party¡¯s trusty wall came to his help, and deflected a headache-inducing attack.


    ¡°Ah, come on, Bia, dear! It¡¯s fun!¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°Sssssanksss for ssspeaking thisss language. And yesssss.¡±


    ¡°Anyways, this one here isn¡¯t a potion, but a condiment, as I was saying.¡±


    ¡°No, it actually is a potion." Adeltraut supplied "Giving bad breath is not its intended effect, being an antidote and a general medicine is. It makes even the common cold go away within minutes! Well, you can also put it on food."


    ¡°How do you know? I don¡¯t remember you having [Medicine], [Doctoring], [First Aid] or [Alchemy] at a high Level.¡±


    ¡°I have [Cooking] tagged and at 213%. I know my ingredients.¡±


    Actually, after saying it, Prof remembered her Character Parchment. He simply forgot Adeltraut had that Skill on such a Level ¨C mostly because the Ogre never cooked. What use was a high-Level Skill, if it was never used?! It was like building a Skill-set, that, for example, was geared towards hitting things over the head with dual-wielded axes, a high chance for Critical Hits, and not getting hit in return. And then not going full-out murderhobo on the wildlife, bandits, and everything moving, twenty-four-seven, for a hundred and forty Chapters or so.


    No one would read such a boring story!


    Luckily for Prof, he wasn''t an edge lord in some trashy web novel but was enjoying his very much real next life, so there was no need for constant warfare against trash mobs.


    Besides, constant fighting was hard and smelly work, and he just wanted to see the sights. His awesome build was just there for self-defense. And plundering occasional dungeons.


    ¡°So, if we give the stuff to Theodor, he would have extra bad breath and be extremely healthy?¡±


    ¡°Yes. He wouldn¡¯t catch the common cold for a few months. The weather is getting colder, so I would recommend, you all also take a sip. Prevention is very important, even if you have high Vitality!¡±


    It was like having a mom again. A close to three meters high, green, and seriously overweight mom, but nonetheless. Truly, Ogres were really gentle giants.


    As long as you don''t make them angry and make them bash you over the head with Ogre-sized drumsticks.


    The next day, the dueling hit squad arrived early at the chosen Betterment Center''s training grounds. Obviously, only after giving Theodor a healthy breakfast. He was even greener than usual. And of extremely bad odor. Strangely, the rafters were packed full with different Greenskins, everybody chanting "Mythrill" at the top of their lungs as soon as Wolfgang entered the premises. Obviously, someone let the details of the upcoming duel slip. Prof was reasonably sure, it was not his party (although, Mini was a candidate for indiscretion), so that left only¡­


    Oh, yeah. Wolfgang. He was a Showman, after all ¨C incapable of not going overboard if there was a show to have. Even, if that went against common sense and efficiency. He probably would have attracted a crowd even for a stealthy assassination!


    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    Well, having cheerleaders for a sports venue was probably a good thing ¨C even if Greenskins didn''t have barely clothed females jumping around. They had to settle for folks sitting on the rafters and chanting.


    ¡°Honoured Redcap, may the better side win.¡± the noise marine approached them, trailed by the other two bodyguards. Obviously being minions of the villain didn¡¯t mean, they had to be arrogant and un-excellent. Greenskins were strange.


    The Betterment Center¡¯s head trainer, who was to be the referee for the duel, checked everyone¡¯s gear over and summarized the rules for a last time.


    ¡°No deliberate killing blows against subdued opponents are permitted! No deliberate killing blows are permitted at all! A subdued opponent is someone, who can not continue the duel, be it unconsciousness, injured, or if I said so! You all know the other rules, keep to them, or I will disqualify you!¡±


    As everyone, who watched at least one football game knows, referees are chronically blind. Also, they, as neutral parties had their favorites. Knowing the rules only marginally, those age-old facts didn''t bode well for Prof and his team ¨C especially for a certain law-evading Vampire.


    It was almost certain, the blind and partially neutral umpire would favor the home team! Would the Central European¡­ ehm¡­ mixed Central Fenrian team manage to pull off an overwhelming, surprise victory? How could a foreign team win against their overpowered opponents?


    By basing their tactics on the Greenskins¡¯ fetish of being excellent. And, obviously, using chemical warfare!


    Of course, the bodyguard brigade wasn''t conforming to expectations, as in they did not spread themselves thin, but stayed close together. The sword-and-board Hobgoblin was covering the crossbow-goblin, while the noise marine stayed close and played the spear''s tip. Bunching up in this way, however, gave an opening, no one was seriously contemplating.


    ¡°Theodor, magic! Now!¡± Mini ordered, as soon as the opposite team reached close quarters. The resounding magical attack was epical. Legendary even! One could maybe call it mythical! Prof was standing behind the Goblin (he was quite sure, he knew the song, Theodor was belching), and the backlash and the echo staggered even him. The smell was even more¡­ staggering.


    At least he wasn¡¯t the focus of the Spell. And the unintended consequences of feeding a lot of smelly food to a Goblin before exercising.


    The Spell turned out a lot more¡­ liquid than it was planned.


    ¡°This is disgusting! I joined the Bodyguards¡¯ not-Guild so I don¡¯t have to deal with drunken folks vomiting over me! Fuck this! I¡¯m out! I¡¯m going back to a bar, playing bouncer!¡± the Hobgoblin threw his gear on the ground, furiously trying to wipe away some chunks of sausage. ¡°What did you eat? This is vile! Damn, I won¡¯t be able to get the smell out of my stuff! Boss, you will get the bill for this!¡±


    While the Hobgoblin was raging over his destroyed gear, the Goblin with the crossbow was just sick, barely conscious. Only the noise marine remained, looking shocked.


    ¡°Referee! Is chemical warfare allowed in a duel? I call foul play!¡± He finally contacted the absolute authority for the match.


    ¡°That was basically [Magic: Sound], so the use of a Skill and a Spell. It was boosted by¡­ food and medicine, and neither is forbidden. Even if they used gas, it wouldn¡¯t be against the rules. I¡¯m actually grateful, they used belching and not farting. That would have been truly vile!¡±


    ¡°Could you do that, Theodor? That would have been awesome!¡±


    ¡°NO! Don¡¯t even think about it! Leave me alone! I won¡¯t ever eat sausages again! Argghhh¡­¡±


    ¡°It looks like, two-thirds of the defending team either forfeited or aren''t in a condition to continue the duel. I pronounce the Goblin Theodor from the challenging team also in no condition to continue. Take your places, and let''s finish this!" the referee directed the teams to their exact positions before the time-out.


    Since they were short a one-shot Goblin, Prof¡¯s (or rather Mini¡¯s) team had to amend their plans. Obviously, their team captain already had ideas.


    ¡°Team! Everyone STRIP!¡± not necessarily good ideas, though.


    ¡°Are you folks retarded?!?!? Is this supposed to be some kind of joke?!? First vomit and now a strip show?!? Can''t you take this seriously?!"


    ¡°Hey, I¡¯m taking this seriously! Nothing bad happened EVER by folks stripping, duh!¡±


    ¡°Vulgar undead!¡±


    ¡°I''m NOT VULGAR! See my Parchment! Nowhere it say, I''m vulgar!"


    ¡°This¡­ this¡­ this¡­ How you are even allowed to run free?!? You are insane!!!¡±


    ¡°Baseless accusations! I¡¯m not insane!¡±


    ¡°Your own Parchment says so! How can someone be so ignorant and stupid?!?!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m neither! See! Intelligence of 16! I¡¯m a genius!¡±


    ¡°This is a farce!¡± their enemy started to get red in the face. With a green base color, it made for an interesting contrast ¡°This was meant as a challenge of Skills, not a visit to a pleasure provider!¡±


    ¡°YOU JUST CALLED ME A WHORE?!?!?¡±


    ¡°Stupid bitch! You even have [Sex] at over 190%! What do you expect?!?!¡±


    ¡°YOU WANT A TEST OF SKILL?!?! I will show you, what that awesome Skill does!!!¡±


    Prof watched the noise marine keel over ¨C obviously, if a green-skinned someone started to turn red, it wasn''t healthy. That was probably a record for them. Mostly, they still had to fight, or at least intimidate their enemies into submission. As far as Prof could tell, no one even used a Skill in the duel after the first burst of "magic". He expected a little bit more from high-level professionals.


    Since he wasn¡¯t the Main Character in a story, he couldn¡¯t have had such a strong plot armor, no? Besides, he saw a complete set of Plot Armor in one of the shops in Suagarten. Yes, it was even advertised under that name! It was insanely expensive, but the enchantments made the wearer almost unkillable. With that price tag, basically, no one could have afforded it, though. And certainly not him.


    ¡°Eeehm¡­ Referee, Sir¡­ I think our honored opponent just suffered an aneurysm or a heart attack. Or both. Could you please get a healer?"


    ¡°That was anticlimactic." Wolfgang stepped up to the front liners "The weak of heart can''t stand against a determined force!"


    ¡°Miss Minerva, congratulations. You finally did it! You annoyed someone to death!"


    ¡°No, I did nothing of the kind. It was clearly suicide because he knew, he couldn''t win an argument against my outstanding Intelligence and my wonderful Skills!"


    ¡°You know, Miss Minerva, sometimes I think¡­¡±


    ¡°Ehm, Bianca. What did I tell you about arguing with Mini?" Prof jumped to the help of their wall. Rescuing females from certain brain damage was gentlemanly, no?


    ¡°Don''t do it? Because you will never win and will get headaches?"


    ¡°Yeah, exactly.¡±


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell it to the noise marine too, my friend? This was a waste of Greenskin resources. One elite combatant less!¡± Wolfgang questioned.


    ¡°Well, I can¡¯t just walk around and tell everybody, not to talk to Mini! Besides, this is the first casualty of arguing with her!¡±


    ¡°That you know of! Ha!¡± Mini looked, for some strange reason, extremely proud.


    ¡°Do I wanna know?¡±


    ¡°Probably not.¡±


    ¡°I thought so. What know?¡±


    ¡°Now, we kick that little green slime¡¯s door in, and feed him to Binky!¡±

 Chapter 19: The Show Mustn’t Go On, Part 9

    ¡°No need to abuse my doors, you violent cretins. I¡¯m right here!¡± The main villain of the arc just approached them, right in the middle of the Betterment Center¡¯s training field.


    ¡°You just destroyed the efforts of hundreds of years! Are you happy now?¡±


    ¡°Not-Guildmaster, I haven¡¯t destroyed anything, instead I brought back forgotten music!¡± Wolfgang proudly declared.


    ¡°Exactly! Do you know, how hard it was to make your music be forgotten? We had to invent Clay! Plus Boonies and Borderlands! Not many like that, but anyway. After generations, even Granite started to fade! No good Granite song for almost a generation, most of the young ones going to Clay! Then you pesky kids come along, and destroy everything!"


    ¡°You suppressed Granite and Mythrill?!? How dare you?!?¡±


    ¡°It was for the common good! Breeding the violence out of Greenskins! Getting more excellent! Enable even more people to get excellent!¡±


    ¡°Greenskins aren¡¯t more violent, than other species! Why do you want us to get softer?¡±


    ¡°Hah! Greenskins aren¡¯t violent anymore! Look, at what you have done! ONE concert and there was a riot! Someone even set fire to a bar!"


    ¡°Hey, I can explain that! It wasn¡¯t exactly my fault!¡± Mini decided to interrupt the villain¡¯s monologue. If she delayed more, no one would be able to figure out his motivations! How could an arc end without some big revelations?


    ¡°See? You even brought foreign agents to Ostwaldland! Insane foreign operatives!¡±


    ¡°HEY! I''m not a foreign agent! Just your average run-of-the-mill Vampire heir!"


    ¡°This is what I¡¯m talking about! You couldn¡¯t even bring violence back to Greenskins on your own! You had to drag a Vampire noble, a Kobold assassin, and two bloodthirsty Pinkskins into this! Despicable!¡±


    Prof wondered, who else Wolfgang may have found. That party sounded like bad news! How could it be possible, that two completely different groups had the exact same composition, but while one was peaceful, the other was, obviously, some kind of highly trained infiltrator-terrorist group?


    Of course, they couldn¡¯t be the same, Prof¡¯s party had only a Bloodthirsty Vampire, a semi-professional backstabber Kobold, and a professional mercenary.


    Oh, wait.


    ¡°Honoured not-Guildmaster, may I draw attention to the fact, that we were innocent bystanders, and we have no designs on Ostwaldland¡¯s further development? In fact, we just acquired a wagon, and were planning to leave your beautiful and picturesque country behind.¡±


    ¡°Bah! If you were just bystanders, why did you get involved at all?¡±


    ¡°Ehmmm¡­ Our friend informed us, that he is prevented and hindered from playing music. From what I know of Greenskinian law and customs, preventing and hindering is a serious crime. Not allowing someone to get excellent, and being not-excellent to each other is a bad thing. No? We were assisting our friend to become excellent ¨C in contrast to some other people, who, for the sake of the example, hired foreigner thugs to hinder, rob, and kidnap said friend."


    ¡°Don''t try to change topics, Pinkskin!" the not-Guildmaster shouted "This is about Klavierspieler bringing back obsolete, un-greenskin, and degrading ideology to our enlightened culture! Violence! How abhorrent! I should have sent him to the mines as soon as he presented that disgusting book!"


    So, it was all about some ideological crusade. Discussing ideology with an obviously compromised person was never a fruitful endeavor, so Prof had only one choice left.


    ¡°I have a lawyer, and I''m not afraid to use him!" Prof declared while pushing Wilhelm to the front. Back on Earth, peace was held up by the threat of mutually assured nuclear destruction ¨C sending armies of lawyers to the other great powers would have (maybe) ended the Cold War sooner. Nothing could make investments and the administration grind to a halt faster than a horde of lawbenders flooding the courts with lawsuits! Seeing, how the other side wasn''t afraid to employ even the most heinous weapons would have made everyone capitulate within minutes.


    Or launch missiles.


    Going by the face, the not-Guildmaster made, Prof obviously crossed a line. He just hoped this wasn''t grounds to launch a pre-emptive first strike ¨C [Magic: Radiation] was a thing, after all. The not-Guildmaster did nothing like that. He turned white.


    Well, a lighter shade of green, anyway.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t over yet!¡± he yelled, turned, and ran away. It took only a few seconds, and he was already inside the building.


    ¡°Damn. That little slime is fast!¡± Mini was disappointed, she wasn¡¯t able to bring her double-shot crossbow up in time.


    ¡°What wassss talk? Not undersssstand. Pleasssse talk in other language!" Sharpclaw sauntered over. "Ssssstart sssstabbing?"


    ¡°Yeah, exactly that." Prof frowned "I have it up to here with all this crap! Why am I always dragged into such a situation? I was prepared to just mind my own business, maybe visit that charming castle, that lovely waterfall, and that famous battlefield. But noooooo! Another world-changing situation! Is someone getting off of this?!?¡±


    ¡°You should maybe choose your friends more carefully.¡± Mini supplied ¡°Not everyone is so straight and without ulterior motives as me!¡±


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    ¡°You don¡¯t want to drag me into your issues with your place on the line of succession or something?¡±


    ¡°Of course not! Not yet, anyway. The Duke would eat you for breakfast right now. Literally. When we reach Level 25, I do plan to bring you back as my concubine, though!¡±


    ¡°No, thank you."


    ¡°But we have sooo many interesting sights to see! Me, a lot of ruins, diverse architecture, me, a few estates away a haunted forest, beautiful crypts, me, and a lot more!¡±


    ¡°Do you think me so shallow?¡±


    ¡°Of course not. Now, stop whining. Let¡¯s kill a pompous Goblin! You can even kick the door in!¡±


    ¡°Oh, do you mean, our friend can display his awesome skill in kick-a-door-in? His last performance was, I have to admit, excellent.¡± now Wolfgang was just an ass. It was one thing to be a Wiseass, but his comment had a deficiency in wise and reinforced the second part of his Perk.


    Granted, Prof¡¯s defeat by a rickety door could be constructed as an excellent showing. If one was into that kind of humor. Anyway, that evil door already met its maker. Or any other craftsman, who specialized in making doors ¨C leaving an entrance to well-maintained sewers without doors was probably not excellent. Who knows, what kind of shady vagrants would move in? Without regulated entry, all kinds of criminals and sects could make their headquarters in cozy sewers!


    As the party and the band made jokes about kicking down doors, everyone tracked back to the Musicians'' not-Guild. Everyone, as in a large crowd, since probably the whole audience of the duel followed behind, even picking up random pedestrians.


    Prof hoped they weren''t there for a showing of kick-a-door-in.


    They first walked up to the not-Guild''s front entrance ¨C obviously infiltrating through the kitchen door was still frowned upon by Greenskinkind. Not, that they could have secretly infiltrated with around a thousand spectators. There were even food vendors setting up shop.


    They were awaited by a locked door and Sumpfigerort¡¯s previous not-Guildmaster.


    ¡°Honoured Redcap, dear Mythrillhead, and associates, good morning. As you know, that un-excellent piece of trash locked himself into the not-Guildhouse. You being here for his head puts me in a very bad position."


    ¡°Good morning to you too.¡± Prof decided not to forgo pleasantries. That wouldn¡¯t have been gentlemanly. Or excellent. ¡°What kind of bad position do you imply?¡±


    ¡°You see, while I myself am a follower of the Boonies and Borderlands style, a horrible name, by the way, I do think, every other style has its place. Yes, even Mythrill. The way a lot of not-Guildmasters tried to suppress this new music wasn''t excellent. However, I can''t allow you entry to the not-Guildhouse."


    ¡°Why? You even have the keys there!¡±


    ¡°Oh, I see. You are a foreigner, with probably not enough points in [Culture: Greenskinian] and [Law: Greenskinian]. The short version is, it wouldn''t be excellent. I won''t bore you with a longer explanation. You have enough local friends, they could fill you in if you are interested."


    ¡°She¡¯s right, it wouldn¡¯t be excellent.¡± Wolfgang agreed.


    ¡°It would be a Treesquezer thing to do.¡± Adeltraut seconded.


    ¡°You see, according to the law, a not-Guildmaster is required to¡­¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Wilhelm. We will revisit the issue at a later time.¡±


    ¡°Dear not-Guildmaster, are you willing to resist? Do we have to fight?" Prof asked to clarify. He didn''t exactly want to fight. Or being present for the final retirement of the other not-Guildmaster.


    ¡°Absolutely not. I''m only required to not allow entry, but not to fight."


    ¡°So, we have to steal the keys from you, or break down the door?¡±


    ¡°Pretty much, yes. However, stealing the keys, I have right here on my belt for everyone to see wouldn''t be excellent, and would raise problems with the Thieves'' not-Guild. Ah, hello, not-Guildmaster. If you need to break down a door, I would ask you to do it with the kitchen entrance. With how strained our finances are at this time, we wouldn''t be able to replace the front door."


    ¡°Could you please give us a minute?" Prof collected his hit squad and repositioned themselves a bit away. "So, what should it be? Stealing the keys, or breaking down the kitchen door?"


    ¡°I would rather do this without property damage. Or stealing. Neither is excellent." Wolfgang was the first to share his opinions. He was considerate enough to do it in Bergian ¨C Sharpclaw was starting to get frustrated lately by everyone speaking Greenskinnian.


    ¡°Me besssst in lockpicking. 101%!¡± the Kobold supplied.


    ¡°Aw, come on, guys! This is getting ridiculous! Should we perhaps knock? Maybe someone would open the door!¡± Mini, on the other hand, was starting to get frustrated by the absence of bloodshed. And orgies.


    ¡°That is actually a good idea! Not opening the door, when someone knocks, isn''t excellent!" Adeltraut wasn''t exactly able to understand sarcasm ¨C that was probably because she was the worst in Bergian. You can miss quite a few clues if you don''t speak the language.


    ¡°So, kick-a-door-in?¡±


    ¡°Of course! This is what I was saying all the time!¡± Mini just gloated.


    ¡°Would it be possible to just slightly damage the kitchen door?" Wolfgang asked, "It doesn''t feel right to destroy more than absolutely needed."


    ¡°Me good in lockpicking!¡± Sharpclaw waved her hands around, but most just ignored her.


    ¡°Would you be able to pick the lock?" of course, Prof was paying attention.


    ¡°No. No have lockpickssss. Wassss jussst sssaying.¡±


    ¡°Oh. We should probably buy some lockpicks and skeleton keys, just for future use.¡± Prof decided. Better to be over-prepared, than standing around in need.


    ¡°You do realize, those are regulated, illegal items?¡± Bianca interjected


    ¡°No problem, I¡¯m a member of the Thieves¡¯s not-Guild. I could get you some for an excellent price.¡± Wilhelm volunteered ¡°Of course, you would have to promise, not to use them in Greenskinlands. That would infringe on the not-Guild¡¯s business, and would lead to a lawsuit.¡±


    ¡°So, we are back to kick-a-door-in¡­¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on! Kick that damn door in already! I will die of old age before you move your asses! This is booooooring!!!¡±


    ¡°Ehm, Mini¡­ You are undead, you physically can¡¯t die of old age!¡±


    ¡°See? This is so boring, I feel like dying of old age!¡±


    ¡°Mini, my friend. If you feel an overwhelming sensation of boredom, where dying is a preferable state to the continued apathy, that is not considered dying of old age, but rather dying of boredom. There is a very important distinction between the two."


    ¡°Wiseass. Can we kill that little green slime already?¡±

 Chapter 19: The Show Mustn’t Go On, Part 10

    As they found out, the whole discussion was for naught ¨C the kitchen door wasn¡¯t even locked. If that was because it was forgotten, or no one truly thought, it would have been used, was anyone¡¯s guess.


    Luckily, Prof tried the handle before starting to abuse the poor entrance. Kicking (or axing) his way into the building just to find out, it wasn''t locked would have been embarrassing.


    With all those spectators lurking around, he wouldn¡¯t have been able to show his face in Sumpfigerort anymore. Not, that he planned to.


    As with a sinking ship and rodents, everyone seemed to have bailed in time. Obviously, rumours spread faster, than light, and the staff was already aware, the not-Guildmaster''s bodyguards got defeated and how un-excellent the Goblin was. Realizing, one was on the losing side in time was a recipe for a long, fulfilling life, or a career as a politician. It was either life-preservation skills, or it was some kind of local holiday, that Prof wasn''t aware of.


    Either way, the way up to the not-Guildmaster¡¯s office was clear and clean. Obviously, the cleaning lady wasn¡¯t on holiday that morning. Leaving the floors dirty before an epic battle probably wasn¡¯t excellent.


    ¡°Prof, you can now kick the door in!¡± said Mini, as they reached the office. Prof eyed the obstacle in question for a few moments.


    ¡°Why should I kick it in? It¡¯s not locked, and see, it¡¯s even open a bit! We could just waltz in.¡±


    ¡°Dramatic entrance, duh. No one does a forced entry without kicking doors in!¡±


    ¡°Mini is right in this case.¡± Wolfgang seconded ¡°It is a well-known fact, propagated by literature and plays, that doors have to be forced open in a raid. Not conforming to the reader¡¯s expectations wouldn¡¯t be excellent!¡±


    ¡°But¡­ I think, the not-Guildmaster is already aware, that eight burglars are lurking in front of the door. Neither of us is all that stealthy, and we didn''t even try to be quiet. It wouldn''t be a surprise either way!"


    ¡°FOR THE HEAVENLY GAMEMASTER¡¯S SAKE!!! RUSH IN ALREADY!!! PLEASE DON¡¯T KICK IN THE DOOR, I HAVE LEFT IT OPEN FOR A REASON!!!!¡±


    Well, Prof and his party obviously had to work on their infiltration skills. Next time, they tried to secretly assault a building, they should maybe do it without a large crowd watching them, and loudly commenting on the happenings. Or probably refrain from discussing the merits of kicking doors in, right in front of it.


    Prof was somewhat surprised. Mini ought to be some kind of highly professional problem solver, and this whole assault was more similar to a bunch of idiots bumbling around, hoping plot armor would save them in the face of insurmountable odds. At least Mini should have said something. Either she was using the problem as a teaching tool, or becoming a Vampire messed up her head more than he previously thought.


    Entering the office, they were confronted by a not-Guildmaster, clearly dressed for battle. Well, he was still wearing the richly average clothes from before but was holding some kind of string instrument. Prof wasn''t exactly well-versed in those, but it definitely wasn''t a guitar or a violin, and probably not a harp either. It had a square box, a long, broad neck, and at least a dozen strings.


    At least it wasn¡¯t based on some kind of weapon.


    ¡°Pitiful, low-Level children! Lay down your weapons, surrender, and hope for forgiveness!"


    ¡°Why? We are eight, and you are alone!¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t it obvious? I¡¯m Level 30, have [Magic: Music] at 350%, [Magic: Sound] at 303%, [Magic: Emotions] at 289%, [Art: Himbilimbi] at 295%, and I have good Perks for playing music and casting Spells! Not to forget all those other Skills I have above 150%. You stand no chance!¡±


    ¡°You are forgetting, that we have a fairly balanced team, with three melee and a ranged combatant, a stealthy Kobold, and the magical support of most of Arkadia¡¯s prime Mythrill band! We are eight times as many, as you!¡± Prof started to get annoyed.


    ¡°You are mistaken." the not-Guildmaster answered like stating a fact "I will cast Silence, Fear, and Cowardice, all at the same time, so your low-level friends will just run away, and that disgusting bands won''t be able to counteract my Spells! After that, it will be just a matter of casting Sound Strike or Musical Assault on each of you, until your brains melt!"


    ¡°Could you wait a minute?" Prof rummaged through his backpack, and fished out that accursed rulebook "Let''s see¡­ Magic¡­ Page 312, Resisting mental or emotional attacks¡­ Page 250¡­ Sooo¡­ According to the rules, Silence is sound magic, and Fear and Cowardice are emotional magic. Casting all three at the same time would mean, you have to make three different rolls, each with a 60% penalty. That is without the base penalty for casting Spells at a high enough power to overwhelm our basic resistances ¨C just so you know, we all have Emotional Stability over 12. Not counting Sharpclaw, but as a Kobold, she is mostly immune to mental or emotional attacks. Since you would need to cast the Spells fast, or we would reach you before you finish casting¡­ that, that, and that¡­ hmmm¡­ that would be another penalty of nearly 200%. All in all, I see quite a large chance, all or some of your Spells would fizzle. Not even talking about Mini just shooting you in the head. Twice. You lost."


    ¡°What edition you are using?¡±


    ¡°The third.¡±


    ¡°Hah! That one is the worst! Here, I have the Fourth Edition! Let''s see¡­ Ah, yes, your calculation was flawed. According to my edition, I can cast with only a flat 40% penalty and could make just one roll against the lower Skill. Also, since I have good Perks, the penalty for a quick cast is just 100%. All in all, I am still comfortably above 100%, and my Spells fizzling out is quite low."


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    ¡°No, no, no. You forgot the crossbow-wielding Vampire here. Either you dodge the bolts, and have another 75% penalty, or you take the bolts to the face, which would mean, your Spell will fizzle either way."


    ¡°According to the Fourth Edition, taking damage while casting gives only a chance for the Spell to fizzle. That chance being equal to the damage dealt.¡±


    ¡°Mini¡¯s crossbow deals 25-60 Damage, plus bonus Damage because of her Perks. An Aimed Shot to the head would give a bonus to Critical Chance of 35%, and together with her base chance, her weapon¡¯s attributes, that would be more, than 50% Critical Chance. Statistically, one of her two bolts will cause a critical hit, so, you would be most likely dead or incapacitated. Either way, your Spells would fizzle.¡±


    ¡°You are wrong. Again. A laughable 120 HP damage wouldn''t kill me, even if we assume a Critical Hit for triple damage, that would be only 240 HP, and I would still survive the hit!"


    ¡°Hah, assuming just triple damage. That is funny! See the possibilities for a Critical Hit here in the chart. Instant Death. Unconsciousness. Dizziness. There is a higher chance, you got incapacitated than not."


    ¡°That chart is crap! See! Broken Leg or Arm. How would that be possible with a headshot? Let¡¯s consult the more excellent Fourth Edition! Oh¡­ Well, it gives even more serious returns. All right, you were correct, I shouldn¡¯t take projectiles to the face. Soooo, I will dodge!¡±


    ¡°And we are back to the penalty for dodging, and how that would lower your chance to cast the Spell. Actually¡­ Dodging arrows¡­ Page 25¡­ AHA! You would need quite a high [Evade] for a chance to get out of the way from this distance. That would be¡­ adding that, subtracting that, multiplying with 2¡­ What? 561%? Is that correct?¡±


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t think so. Ah, you multiplied twice. The correct number would be 280%.¡± Mini was actually helpful for once.


    ¡°Yes. So, dear not-Guildmaster, do you have [Evade] at 280%?¡±


    ¡°No, I don''t. However, I don''t need to have it at that Level. It would be 140%, to begin with since your Vampire is trying to do an Aimed Shot at my head, which is considered a small target, so the need for [Evade] would be lower. Also, you failed to take my Agility and basic Defence Rating into account. With those, I would need only 102%, and that I have. Ha!¡±


    ¡°That still leaves the 75% penalty for dodging. With that, your chances fall off, and your Spells will likely fizzle. HA back at you!¡±


    ¡°Not correct. According to the Fourth Edition, the 75% penalty is only for melee attacks, against ranged weapons, it is just 25%, and my chances are still above 100%! Haha!¡±


    ¡°All right, let''s assume, you are right, and you do manage to cast those Spells. We still have a quite high innate resistance to mental and emotional attacks, so could still counterattack in melee. Not to forget, Wolfgang''s band could neutralize your Spells with some of their own. For example with a Spell, like we defeated your bodyguards with. That would interrupt your casting in the first place. Also, you wouldn''t be able to dodge four to five melee combatants, while casting new Spells. We can do attacking in silence, you know?"


    ¡°Your friends would need to know the exact Spell I¡¯m going to cast to counteract it with safety! Not going to work!¡±


    ¡°Ehmmm¡­ You just told us the three Spells you will use.¡±


    ¡°Oh, right¡­ Ehmmm¡­ But maybe I won¡¯t cast those Spells, and everything was just a trap!¡±


    The discussion was starting to get ridiculous. When someone was preparing for a boss fight, the last thing to be expected was an idiotic discussion, about what the boss would do, and how the heroes would counteract said moves. All with rulebooks in their hands!


    Prof was reasonably sure, Arkadia wasn''t a large, free-for-all LARP convention. Why the rule-lawyering with game rules then?!? Did the not-Guildmaster contract Idiotic Banter from Mini? Assuming, there was such a Perk, and assuming, it was contagious.


    Of course, the discussion had some advantages too. First, Prof learned a lot about the game rules, that had only a passing relation to Arkadia''s own rules. Second, and more importantly, everyone edged closer to the not-Guildmaster, until they were less, than a step or two away.


    ¡°So, assuming, you did manage to cast the initial Spells, some of us would be nonetheless within striking distance.¡± Prof continued his inquiry ¡°What then?¡±


    ¡°I will cast Sound Strike to melt your brains!¡±


    ¡°No, you wouldn''t. You yourself said, that according to the Fourth Edition, the penalty for casting in the melee range is 75%. Given, that you would still need to speed-cast, you would have basically no chance to successfully finish a Spell. Remember, there would be a few of us around you, most likely with Mini taking potshots. A hit or two would be almost guaranteed."


    ¡°A few of you around me? Ha! That is impossible!¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s not. Sharpclaw is mostly immune to mental and emotional attacks, Mini is as good as¡­ Well, as long as there aren¡¯t naked folks around¡­ I¡¯m not sure about Bianca, but she still has some of the magical trinkets, and most likely Wolfgang would be able to resist too. Not even talking about myself. I don¡¯t know the rest of Mythrillhead well enough to make a statement. So, do you have a solution to steel falling down on you?¡±


    ¡°Besides pre-emptively melt your brains before you reach me, no. But you wouldn''t be able to reach me in the first place!"


    Obviously, the not-Guildmaster didn''t have much situational awareness. Or was so engrossed in the theoretical battle, that he simply didn''t realize, he was already surrounded. Well, that happened even to the best generals¡­


    ¡°So, let''s say, Sharpclaw stabs you in the back ¨C with the first attack being from stealth and a surprise, she could do massive damage ¨C Mini shoots you in the head, twice, while everyone else starts stabbing and hacking, what would be your solution? Like in one¡­ two¡­"


    ¡°Preposterous idea! How would you¡­¡±


    ¡°Three.¡±


    There are probably a few people, who would expect a multi-chapter, hit-by-hit, epic¡­ no¡­ legendary¡­ no, make it mythical, battle between a bunch of underdogs and an overpowered villain. Spells, Skills, Abilities, and body parts flying everywhere. The underdogs pulling out a victory in the very last second and happily limping into the sunset. Or, more likely into the nearest hospital.


    However, when a stealthy Kobold stabs you into the kidneys (with Perks!), a bored Vampire shoots you in the head from point-blank range (twice!), a Redcap Orc bashes you over the head with an axe, a battle-hardened veteran inserts her sword into your guts, an Earth-expat attacks you with two magical axes, an Ogre swings ogre-sized drumsticks at you¡­ all at the same time¡­ the result will be, 11 times out of 10, a massive overkill.


    Even against a Level 30.


    ¡°I expected something more¡­¡± Mini complained over the shredded remains.


    ¡°Can we leave Ostwaldland already?¡±


    ¡°Sure, sure.¡±


    ¡°Well, about that¡­¡±

 Interlude 4: Whose Nightmare is this?, Part 1

    The glorious, magnificent, fabulous, generous, well-behaved, kind, non-insane, and funny Minerva Pannonnii was having the time of her death. Unlife. Certainly not life, she was over that part for some time already.


    Not just because her future trophy husband was so considerate to send her into a riotous city to escort some females of purchasable affection to a brothel, but because¡­ No, the escorting the escorts played the biggest part.


    Currently.


    All those boring Greenskins were just dancing around campfires, listening to music, instead of a proper riot! Where was the pillaging? Arson? Outright carnage? What they were doing was just a big party, not a riot! Her magnanimous self should teach them! Sticking to some boring rules, when it was time to let loose? Bah!


    Of course, rioting the Greenskin-way led to less property damage, injuries ¨C and probably political upheaval ¨C but Mini was right in one point: you can''t have a big party, call it a riot, and expect anything to change. Well, most riots only changed the disposition of the security services towards the goals of the rioters. And where the riot gear and the water cannons were kept.


    The excursion in the Domain was fun too, Mini thought! Tasting and killing bandits, strange forest animals to taste and kill, all the while being surrounded by scantly clad, beautiful sapients to taste! Paid in full by her darling! He even arranged a bed warmer for her!


    Those Travelers were strange ¨C obviously, they were born Prudes, and not even kissing or holding hands was allowed for them before marriage, but they had no problems with their future wives having exhaustive fun with anyone, they wanted.


    It was strange. He had only a Willpower and Emotional Stability of 12, and still, he was able to resist her unmatched charm! Her shining beauty! Her high [Seducing]! He resisted even after he learned, she had [Sex] was at an incredible 190%!


    He was a boring cave-dweller.


    At least he accepted her superiority, and paid for her needs and wants, and served her as a good servant should!


    On the other hand, he was so funny as he stumbled through his life on Arkadia. Not understanding anything, being ignorant of how Arkadia and the different species worked. He was so cute!


    Not, that she was in love with him. Or anyone for that matter. That strange feeling was fueled by¡­ thingies that were¡­ there¡­ when one was alive. Or so it was said by friendly necromancers and evil vitamancers. Being undead, those thingies didn¡¯t make her have strange feelings. Not, that she would fall in love, even if she was still alive.


    Lust was a much more straightforward state.


    Unfortunately, most folks mistook one for the other.


    Being in a riotous city was just fantastic! Almost ecstatic! People fighting, setting things on fire, playing excellent riot music, drinking¡­ It was like a festival or celebration, and she couldn¡¯t participate!


    Her pet Humans made her promise, not to plunder, rape, pillage and inflict carnage ¨C even if she didn''t care about other people''s rules at all, a promise was a promise. She, as a proud and noble member of the superior and excellent Vampire species (and a member of Forestdeep''s high nobility) knew when to keep a promise.


    When it benefited her.


    ¡°Why exactly can¡¯t I participate?!?¡± she thought out loudly.


    ¡°In the riot? It wouldn¡¯t be excellent for a foreigner to participate. No offense, but you folks don¡¯t know the rules for a proper riot.¡± one of the girls explained. Claiming, she wasn¡¯t perfect and not knowing everything was¡­ was¡­ impolite, to say the least. More likely a grave offense! On the other hand, if the Greenskins had rules for a fun riot, the magnificent Minerva Pannonnii suddenly wasn¡¯t interested in participating. Carnage didn¡¯t follow rules, after all!


    Not, that she had any problems with rules, binding others. Why everyone was so keen on inventing and following arbitrary, stupid rules, she couldn¡¯t understand. Everyone ¨C especially her ¨C should be free to do as they ¨C especially her ¨C wanted!


    Breaking the Greenskins'' rules for their boring street party and showing them, how a real, bloody, and carnage-full riot really looked would have been easy. What could possibly go wrong? Most likely, the Greenskins would bask in her radiant gloriousness and accept her magnificence!


    Even so, if she participated in all that fun, and there were witnesses left, her prospective darlings would probably be angry and would start to argue. While that was mostly fun too, especially Prof''s face, the genius and responsible Minerva Pannonnii was intelligent enough to realize, that arguing in the middle of an exfiltration probably wasn''t the best idea.


    Even if there was no way, anything could go wrong.


    No, she would first complete her quest of escorting the background dancers, as a master-level adventurer should do, and after that, she would have some fun in breaking rules.


    Maybe just after she had a bit of different fun with the girls and boys at the recreational base. She was certain, she hadn¡¯t promised not to do that! The others would have no grounds to nag about that! She basically deserved that reward for completing a very difficult quest!


    To say, Mini had some mental health issues would be like saying, the ocean was slightly damp. In some of Earth''s developed parts, she would have been heavily medicated and safely tucked away in a room with very soft walls. Well, in other parts, she would have been a successful manager, warlord, or politician. Or, she would have ended up dead.


    Either way, Mini wasn''t exactly stupid, an Intelligence of 16 placed her firmly in the top ten percent of the most intelligent people on Arkadia. Or so she liked to think. Actually, it was the top twenty percent (there were a few species around with extremely high Intelligence but low population count), but that was still considered highly intelligent.


    Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    While being "highly intelligent", and being able to spot things she shouldn''t do, or situations, she shouldn''t get herself involved in, being Irresponsible negated that wisdom. And well, she was still clinically insane, not caring about other people¡¯s rules. Well, and she liked to roll in the hay, so to speak, every now and then (preferably now and a short time later too).


    It probably wouldn¡¯t be a surprise to anyone, if she stayed in the pleasure house for a few hours, organizing a big romp with most of the staff and quite a few paying customers too.


    Which she definitely did.


    Since this story isn¡¯t about how much Endurance one of the main characters had in the sheets, and nor does the author write smut, let''s fade to black in the knowledge, that a certain party achieved notoriety and an almost legendary status. It was still the talk a few years later and at least three songs were written about it. It even was referenced in high literature a couple of centuries later, and a very talented painter even created an excellent piece of art, immortalizing the legend.


    Unfortunately, that painting was classified as pornographic by the Painter¡¯s not-Guild and locked away ¨C later to be bought by a mysterious person from the North, never to be seen again.


    So, Mini managed to achieve more with some recreation, than Shinead ever could hope to accomplish, even after working herself to death trying ¨C but that was not a surprise, naturally Mini was much more awesome, than some random (but cute) piece of Elven Arse.


    Either way, as a very satisfied Vampire walked out of the soon-to-be-famous establishment just before dawn, her general disposition led her to a bar for foreigners, just down the street.


    What could have possibly gone wrong?


    From Mini¡¯s perspective, absolutely nothing.


    ¡°Everybody be calm, this is a robbery! Any of you Pinkskins move, and I will fireball every foreigner prick last one of you!¡±


    Just as Mini ordered a mug of that strong paprika-booze ¨C not, that it had any effect on her, but she actually liked the taste ¨C two Greenskins (both Hobs) had the glorious idea to improve their financial situation by politely asking some foreigners for their spare change.


    Of course, Minerva Pannonnii, the highly trained and efficient operative, would have done it differently. First, she wouldn''t have announced herself ¨C looting corpses was easier. Second, she wouldn''t have tried to rob a random bar, but a jeweler or a bank.


    That Greenskins tried robbing a bar, was only mildly surprising for her. In her nightly escapades, she already realized, that Greenskins weren''t as excellent, as her future consort thought, or how law-abiding they liked to paint themselves. Every society had a part, that wasn''t conforming to some outdated, useless, and redundant rules, and Greenskins weren''t that different in that regard.


    True, the Thieves¡¯ not-Guild cracked down on non-sanctioned crime hard, but it did questionable things on its own. Like that thing with lawyers. Or the taxes. No matter, how hard the not-Guild suppressed free-lance criminals and how fast non-excellent people found themselves in the mines, there were always a few, who fell between the cracks.


    Like the two idiots, trying to distract her magnificent self from a well-earned drink.


    The most awesome creature in all creation debated if she wanted some light exercise squashing the would-be robbers right after some heavy exercise doing fun things. On one hand, she was still a little bit sore, but on the other, she was starting to feel peckish. While the male looked tough and salty, the female, threatening to fireball everyone, looked like the correct mix between sour and bitter. Just what she wanted right now ¨C if Mini managed to spice the up the female a bit with that sharp booze, she was drinking, it would be the perfect meal!


    Killing robbers was considered self-defense everywhere ¨C as far as she cared to know, anyway ¨C so not even Prof could whine and complain about her having fun, killing, and pillaging. Of course, he would whine and complain, but only if her glorious and courageous self told him about the situation.


    Which she wouldn¡¯t. Well, maybe she would, so he would be awed by her prowess. There was nothing wrong with admiration. She deserved every little piece of it.


    If she wasn''t going to eat, the easiest way to dispose of the two would be a well-aimed crossbow bolt into the abdomen. That would incapacitate the recipient and would lead to severe pain and a wound, that was extremely hard to heal. While the two squirmed on the ground, she would have all the time she wanted to torture them a little bit ¨C being Cruel didn¡¯t just mean verbal abuse of certain Travelers.


    That and being Unscrupulous assured, she didn¡¯t see anything wrong with some light fun with random idiots, trying to rob her.


    Unfortunately, a bolt in the tummy made her food taste strange. Almost inedible.


    Shooting them in the head wouldn¡¯t be good either, she liked her food fresh, preferably still mobile.


    What else could she do? Severing the spinal columns? Break a leg? No that would be just lucky. Punch them in the face, and make them unconscious? A kick in the reproductive organs was also a classic. Maybe she could open with splashing her booze into the face¡­ No. She liked that swill, and wasting it on a worm wasn''t worth it. She paid for the booze!


    Well, not yet, but she thought about paying for it later.


    Probably the barhop would waive her tab anyway after she dealt with the extremely dangerous criminals in an overwhelming way! If she just poured her drink onto a random passerby, what benefit she would get out of a waived tab? No, the booze was staying securely in her mug!


    Mini decided the situation was rapidly approaching boring territory.


    If she had to follow self-made rules, how was she supposed to have fun? What next? Follow rules, made up by others?!? How dare they, suppress her illustrious, formidable, and indomitable spirit! She was implacable, indefatigable, and would be victorious in the face of such peril!


    She was so engrossed in her inner monologue, that she even slipped into adventurer-speak. Well, heatedly debating something with yourself had the advantage, that in the end, you were always right. And there was a lower chance to start shouting and punching folks in the face.


    ¡°WHAT?!? Are you talking to me?!?!" Mini shouted and punched the male Greenskin in the face. The poor sod just wanted to do his job of robbing slightly drunk foreigners and asked her for a small contribution to his academic career.


    Or something.


    Probably it was just for booze, though.

 Interlude 4: Whose Nightmare is this?, Part 2

    Well, if the two moronic Greenskins would have just walked up to Mini and confessed, they wanted the money for booze, drugs, and whores, she would have been ecstatic to help them out. She still had quite a lot of drugs somewhere. Not, that they had much of an effect on her ¨C damn Poison Resistance, Queen of the Night, and, well, being undead ¨C but it was always good to have a few kilograms of (un)regulated substances in the trunk. Ehmm¡­ Binky¡¯s Saddlebags of Holding. Nothing could go wrong with that, and maybe, just maybe, they came in handy for this and that.


    Lamenting on her inability to get drunk, stoned, high, doped, drugged, or whatever, she wasn''t exactly sure, why she didn''t get rid of at least Poison Resistance. Back, after the ritual it probably made sense to keep it, but she couldn¡¯t figure out, why. Probably it looked like a good idea at the time.


    Mini was pulled out of her very important musings on proper character creation by the female Hobgoblin starting to chant a Spell. It wasn¡¯t instant casting, and not even short-form, but the full chant. She even gesticulated wildly, and some kind of powder was floating in front of her.


    What a waste of probably good drugs!


    Oh, wait, that was more likely the material component of the Spell. At least, it had that sulfuric smell of¡­ well, sulfur.


    Mini was taken aback. How could be someone so un-excellent to try robbing a bar, when her [Magic: Fire] obviously was so low, a full chant, gestures, and material components were needed?!?! Mini was quite certain, the Spell would fizzle even so! Didn''t those morons know anything? Without good Skills, it was extremely dangerous to rob bars, convenience stores, banks, and jewelers! It took only an overpowered Vampire with attitude to foil your masterful plan of¡­ walking in and demanding cash!


    No, robbing localities inside a city was only done with high Skills.


    If someone only had Skills at a low Level the obvious choice was working an unthankful day job, doing back-breaking work for close to nothing, or becoming a public servant. Or robbing folks on the roads.


    On the other hand, if someone already had Skills at a high Level, robbing random bars was probably not worth the effort.


    Anyways, Mini¡¯s thinking of what Level of Skill was needed for a successful robbery may have contained some slight issues and contradictions. That may or may not have been influenced by her originating from a collection of estates (calling Forestdeep a country was stretching the meaning of "country" beyond the breaking point), where random patrons could include Vampires, Liches, or Dread Knights of every possible ex-species. Whereas a peaceful jeweler could be just your friendly neighborhood necromancer, who could and would kill, rekill and re-re-kill you for centuries.


    Either way, Mini decided to end this farce, and finally give one of Prof¡¯s tales a try. Obviously, his people mixed perfectly good booze up with basically drinkable other stuff all the time. It was almost a religion or science for them. Mini remembered some of the more interesting names. Bloody Mary, Corpse Reviver, Death in the Afternoon, Hangman¡¯s Blood, Between the Sheets, Last Word, Sex on the Beach, Blood and Sand, Orgasm, Quick Fuck, and a few others.


    Unfortunately, Prof didn¡¯t remember, what was put into them, but Minerva Pannonnii was an adventurous and enterprising person, with almost 50% in [Alchemy]. Mixing stuff together was what alchemists did, after all. Mixing drinkables together couldn¡¯t be that hard! And, most importantly, what could possibly go wrong?


    It was the perfect time to experiment! She was in a bar, full of different kinds of alcohol, and the main ingredient just conveniently walked in!


    Mini flared her Blood Magic, raising her Strength to 18 and her [Intimidation] to over 200%. That should be enough for some low-life Hob. She was told, that if she used [Intimidation], her eyes shone a more vicious red, than normally, and her fangs seemed to grow to frightening points. She knew better. Skills didn''t and couldn''t change anything ¨C beautiful, shining red eyes and pointy fangs were how one could recognize Vampires. That they seemed to glow even more beautifully, and being more pointy was just an optical illusion. Based on pant-wetting fear.


    Just like wild animals and monsters. A Forest Lion wasn¡¯t that large and didn''t have such large fangs and claws if you did an objective measurement. What made them seem larger and menacing was their presence behind you, while you futilely tried to run harder, than that other guy behind you.


    ¡°Shut up, bitch!¡± Mini eloquently told the female Hob, just before she punched the wannabe mage in the face ¡°Thank you for volunteering for my experiments!¡±


    Obviously, Prof had an impact on Mini, after all. It was always good to be polite! In Mini¡¯s opinion, Prof having an influence on her was just the same, as gazing into the abyss, and realizing, some old monster from before time was looking back at you with interest. No, thank you. She was perfect, as she was, no upgrade was needed.


    Not counting Skill Points. Those were always good to have. And made her even more awesome.


    Pathetic robbers! One punch each was enough to defeat them! No! SHE was so overpowered and perfect, that that was all it took to overwhelm those criminals!


    Anyway, it was time for SCIENCE!


    ¡°Bartender! Bring me all the booze you have! I¡¯m going to do alchemy!¡± well, being polite and everything was probably good, but being polite to subordinates? Mini didn¡¯t see the point.


    Actually, being polite to the staff of restaurants and bars is very important, mind you. If you were polite, there is a marginally higher chance of getting "clean food". Same for office workers. It''s impressive, how many files can mysteriously get lost. But I digress. "Clean food" or "food, that was made out of stuff, that wasn''t well past its shelf-life" in a medieval world is probably nothing, you would get anyway.


    Just as Mini was starting to get some blood from the female ¨C she was planning to make something, she dubbed a Bloody Mary ¨C the bartender held up his hand.


    ¡°Little Missy, what exactly do you think, are you doing?¡±


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    How dare he, interrupting the magnificent Minerva Pannonnii doing science?!?! The experiment was for the betterment of all Vampirekind, currently in the bar! Such a noble goal could and should not be disturbed by such peasants! In fact, he should be glad to be allowed to lend his little drinking hole to such a world-changing event!


    ¡°Science! Mixing up excellent new kinds of booze!¡±


    ¡°And those two morons?¡±


    ¡°They are the main ingredient! Everything tastes better with a little bit of red! If there is a lot of red, it tastes even better!¡±


    ¡°You want to kill those two?¡±


    ¡°Want? No. That would be only the by-product of science! Not, that anyone would miss such retards, anyway. I''m actually doing the world a favor by removing them from the procreation list! You may thank me now!"


    The next thing, Mini saw, was a huge crossbow leveled directly at her face.


    ¡°You see, little missy, no one is going to kill folks in my bar. No one, but Sepp there and me. Bad luck, missy, you were just going to kill two of our friends. They only wanted to rob you. Drop your weapons! No one will miss you."


    ¡°Of course, I would be missed! No one would be able to live without my excellent guidance and without the chance to bask in my radiation!"


    ¡°He? You got cursed by a radiation mage?¡±


    ¡°Of course not! It is all because of my personality!¡±


    ¡°Good. They say radiation isn''t healthy. Boys, get her!"


    ¡°Boys, plural? You promise? I can have fun with all of you strong Humans? And that odd Orc there? This is fantastic! Let¡¯s go!¡±


    ¡°Ehmm¡­ Egyed, usually, this is time, they start screaming and running away. What¡¯s wrong with her?¡±


    ¡°Probably can¡¯t understand Bergian correctly. Let¡¯s try Greenskinian.¡±


    ¡°No, I just understand Bergian splendidly. I have 120% in it. No time to waste! Zack, zack! Move! I want my fun! It''s almost half an hour, I had some!"


    ¡°Are you dense? Some of us are even Level 5 here! Luca there is an Elite! We will overpower you, no matter, how you want to squirm out of the situation!¡±


    ¡°Kinky! Let¡¯s go! And call some friends too! The twelve of you wouldn¡¯t be enough. Hey, maybe we could go to that pleasure house down the road, the orgy there is still ongoing!¡±


    ¡°You are insane? We are going to kill and rob you!¡±


    ¡°Who is trying to get out of the situation? I. WANT. MY. PROMISED. FUN! NOW!¡±


    ¡°Ehhmmmm¡­ Egyed, do you really think, this is a good idea? They say, insanity is contagious, and she looks really insane.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s just superstition! What next? Idiotic Banter is a Perk?¡±


    ¡°I think, it actually is. I once visited a village, where¡­¡±


    ¡°Oh, shut up Marco! Would you please start moving on her?¡±


    ¡°YES! Move on me already! I don¡¯t have time to just stand here all night!¡±


    ¡°OH SHIT! Egyed, I think it''s that Vampire from the stories!" That realization made the peaceful patrons, moving on her with obviously bad intentions hesitate.


    ¡°No way!¡±


    ¡°Run!¡±


    ¡°Mommy!!!"


    ¡°Duh, you just realized, I¡¯m the only, and most fabulous Vampire in all of Saugarten? What gave me away? Taking on two robbers at the same time, or making cocktails out of them?¡±


    ¡°Ehmmm¡­ No, miss. It was the insistence of wanting to have fun with a dozen unknown thugs like us in an otherwise deserted bar in the middle of the night.¡±


    ¡°You a Wiseass, or what? Of course, I would insist on fun when it was offered! So, move already! I promise you the night of your life!"


    ¡°Ehmm¡­ Miss¡­ That¡¯s the problem. I don¡¯t wanna end up like some of the others! And this be my last night. Bye, Egyed, I¡¯m outa here! Good luck!¡±


    ¡°ANY OF YOUR FUCKING DIPSHITS MOVE, AND I WILL FUCK EVERY LAST ONE OF YA!!!!¡± Mini wasn¡¯t exactly the most patient of creatures, especially, if she didn¡¯t get promised things. ¡°Now, move on!¡±


    ¡°If I were to move on, I would need to move!¡±


    ¡°Shut up, Wiseass! You there!¡±


    ¡°No, miss, please no! I have a wife and kids!¡±


    ¡°Since when Bodis?"


    ¡°Since now?¡±


    ¡°Egyed! Just shoot her in the face! you are the closest!¡±


    They clearly didn¡¯t have many Points in Intelligence.


    Mini just realized the oversized crossbow was still aimed directly at her face. Well, not exactly directly at her face, but in the vague direction of where she was. If the bartender, obviously named something or other, made some effort, he would be able to maybe hit her ¨C with the butt of the crossbow, not with a bolt.


    Amateurs! It was a well-known fact, that when holding someone at crossbow-point, all the attention had to be kept on the target. Otherwise, the aim wandered off.


    One other well-known fact was, that the crossbow should be more, than an arm-length from the target. Otherwise, the target may come to the (mostly ill-advised) idea to grab the weapon.


    Obviously, the magnificent and fabulous Minerva Pannonnii wasn¡¯t just some pedestrian target, but a highly trained professional with a not even low [Disarming] ¨C and that wasn¡¯t just her smile. That, and a random crossbow bolt didn¡¯t do anything to her, as long as it wasn¡¯t a Critical Hit. But random bolts rarely were.


    ¡°MINE!" she snatched the crossbow without much of a problem, as it was expected. She was, after all, incredibly high Level, and her future victims thought, being Level 5 was something impressive. And having one Elite with them was¡­ something or else.


    Her newest prize wasn''t something, she would brag about to the Duke or the Duchess. Its only advantageous property was its size. Bigger was always better! Well, Endurance was always a must, but the weapon was one shot. No endurance, no technique, nothing special ¨C just size. Mini decided it wasn''t worth keeping around.


    So, she did, what she knew best ¨C no, not doing vaguely horizontal acrobatics, but shooting folks in the face.


    ¡°Oh man, Bodis! She just shot Egyed in the face! Why the fuck did she do that?!?¡±


    ¡°I think, that¡¯s because we wanted to rob and kill her.¡±


    ¡°I think, it was an accident! Right? Right?¡±


    To forestall any further discussions and desertions, she leveled her own crossbow ¨C superior, since she owned only superior things, as was befitting to a perfect person ¨C on the remaining patrons.


    ¡°So, where were we? Ah, yes. Fun.¡±

 Interlude 4: Whose Nightmare is this?, Part 3

    Mini was disappointed. Instead of bringing utensils for a kinky party, the remaining people drew weapons. Cudgels, truncheons, the odd dagger, axe, and one or two table legs. One of the idiots even brandished a tankard.


    Those traitors! They promised her a good time, and now they wanted to attack an innocent, random bystander?! How far the morals have fallen within only a few minutes! Promises had to be kept! Now, she had to have fun beating them up! Who would taste her magnificent new inventions afterward?!?


    Not, that she planned to share those, but now even the theoretical possibility was removed. What if, she felt generous? She was already noble, being magnanimous was just a synonym for that, after all!


    Well, in Bergian it was, in Forestean, however "noble" had the meaning of "someone, who was strong enough to get an estate" while "generous" meant, "someone stupid and broke". If one wants to play on words and meanings, one should stick to the same language. Thinking in one language, and then switching to another just to make oneself look good because of semantics, was just cheap. Only insane people would do that!


    Oh, wait.


    Just to open up the fun, she shot the wiseass and the cowardly one. Of course, into the stomach ¨C she already had enough ingredients and food, it made no difference if two got their taste spoiled. Their crying would most likely demoralize the rest, making it easier for her to¡­ She just realized, she wanted to have fun, not dispose of the trash. If they were fearful, it would mean less fun for her.


    Unless¡­


    Inflicting fear could be fun too! She flared Blood Magic again, raising her [Intimidation] to truly fearful Levels, and snatched a short Garuli male, rushing her.


    ¡°Little maggots! Now the fun really starts!" She bit down on her victim''s neck and used a spell or feat, she usually neglected: Exsanguinate. She always thought, sucking out every last drop of blood within a few seconds, leaving just a dried-out husk behind was wasteful and no fun. If you just shovel your food in, how could you taste the full, pleasant flavors, that are sweet and rounded at the same time, the complex correlation between oaky, coppery, and fruity savors?


    In this case, presenting a husk to those traitors, just moments after she got her hands on some tasty red (instead of a flowery bouquet, it stank of sweat), was exactly, what she needed. Folks needed incentives to feel real terror!


    Of course, she wouldn¡¯t settle for simple, pedestrian fear, if she could achieve a perfect result! As it was befitting her perfect and glorious self!


    Probably she would need to get one of those image-capturing magical thingies, she heard of in the Domain. And a few henchmen (with high Charisma and Endurance, of course) to record her heroic deeds. Re-watching herself kill evil-doers was most likely better, than striking poses in front of a mirror.


    She could even make that thing, Prof told her about from his previous world. Showing herself to multiple people and earning money from their adulations was something, she deserved. What did that cute immigrant call them? Either porn or movies. Either way, a lot of people could watch her doing things, while they admired and paid her. It would be perfect!


    As she was.


    She may have overdone it, though. Either her deep-red eyes, foot-long fangs, or bloodthirsty stare made the seasoned drunkards wet themselves. However, it also could have been a large amount of consumed beer and the alcohol-induced weakness of very important muscles.


    It may have been the desiccated corpse of one of their friends, casually thrown in the face of the closest prospective robber.


    ¡°You are gross little maggots! Do you have no shame?!?!" Mini shouted and decapitated the only Greenskin in the party. While Levels weren''t the only measure on Arkadia (Perks, Skills, and the classification of the individual being also important), she was like a Dread Rooster in a fox coop. Where the foxes were kits and Normals. And drunk.


    All of her enemies were obviously Level Verylittle with maybe forty or fifty HP. No armor. They weren''t even trying to dodge, parry, block, or defend! Mini didn''t even need Critical Hits to kill them in one strike.


    ¡°Swoosh! Thunk! Splash!¡± even after she added sound effects, the massacre was starting to get boring ¡°Guys! At least try to fight! This is boring! Splash! Splash! Come oooooon! PLEASE!¡±


    She was down to begging ¨C it was infuriating, that the magnificent Minerva Pannonnii had to beg some random low-lives to provide her with fun! They should beg her! How were they even still alive?!?! Natural selection would mean, that morons, who didn¡¯t defend themselves would be removed from the procreation pool, or at least sold to nice people, who would defend them. Or sacrifice them in very important rituals.


    By the time she finished begging, only two of the miscreants were standing. This definitely wasn¡¯t fun, but was disturbingly and disgustingly similar to actual work.


    Why should a noble Vampire in the direct line of succession for a Duchy do actual work? This is why she had servants, like Prof, Bia, or Sharpclaw. Or those two, unfortunately, deceased Elves. Or basically everyone currently alive, dead, or undead on Arkadia.


    Even with how perfect she was, the morons did manage to hit her a few times. Not, that she suffered any damage. As everyone on Arkadia knew, to deal any damage to an undead, either a Critical Hit or a magical weapon was needed. Since magical weapons didn¡¯t just grow on trees, not even wooden ones, obviously random thugs weren¡¯t equipped with such. They were trash, so didn¡¯t manage a Critical Hit either.


    What they were thinking?!? Attacking the most awesome Vampire in all of the Greenskin lands with just firewood?! Were they trying to stab her in the heart with those? First, they would need a Critical Hit, and second, it wouldn¡¯t do much to her. Pathetic!


    Just as she was going to offer the last two survivors a choice, of how the fun should continue, she was interrupted by a chant.


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    ¡°Seriously? Didn¡¯t you learn your lessons?¡±


    ¡°FIREBALL!!!¡±


    Unfortunately (for her), the Greenskin hedgemage wasn''t very good at aiming ¨C the fireball didn''t come even close to Mini.


    ¡°OH NOOOOO!!!¡± but detonated in the bar¡¯s collection of alcohol. Flammable alcohol, stashed on flammable wooden shelves. All in a flammable wooden building.


    Oh, wait, no.


    Since Saugarten was a Greenskin city, every last building was made of almost-concrete, without much of flammable materials built in.


    Only the furniture and the shutters were actually flammable. And the (fake) wooden floor. All in all, there was enough wood and high-percent booze to let the building burn¡­ well, not to the ground, almost-concrete was still inflammable, after all, but to a burned-out husk of an otherwise perfectly fine building.


    Of course, that would only happen, if no one with water magic intervened. Or no one called the fire brigade.


    No such thing happened, though. While Mini wasn¡¯t a pyromaniac, she did enjoy beautiful things, like a bar burning at night, while good music was playing from the nearest barricade. The flames licking out of the windows were especially picturesque. If there was a lake nearby, someone with talent would be even able to write an epic song about the whole spectacle.


    So, naturally, Mini didn''t call for the fire brigade and wasn''t able to use magic to begin with. The other two survivors ¨C the evil arsonist met her end with a severed spine and suffocating in the flames ¨C were just standing around, fearfully looking at the most awesome person on Fenria.


    ¡°What now?¡± the taller one asked.


    ¡°Let me tell you what now. I¡¯m gonna find another bar and some ingredients to do science for the betterment of all Vampirekind!¡±


    ¡°He meant, what now between us and you?¡± the fatter one clarified.


    ¡°Oh, that what now. Glad you asked! Since I¡¯m freshly out of ingredients, and you all still promised me some fun, which you haven¡¯t delivered¡­¡±


    ¡°Sepp, RUN!!!¡±


    ¡°Fuck this shit! If I survive the night, I will apply for an honest job! Maybe as a tax collector!"


    ¡°Shut up and run!¡±


    Finally, they understood, how to entertain Mini. Well, they chose one of several possibilities ¨C there were countless choices, how to do that with an insane Vampire. Playing catch may not have been Mini''s preferred one, but she decided, that if the future ingredients wanted to play, she wouldn''t be a spoilsport. She was benevolent and great that way. She could be even called philanthropic! After all, she was helping all of Arkadia by bringing forth those probably excellent new mixes.


    She would need to come up with a name for them ¨C rooster¡¯s posterior wasn¡¯t exactly good. Maybe ¡°The most excellent Minerva Pannonnii¡¯s awesomnest creation¡± would work? No, it definitely would work! She could probably shorten it to ¡°A Minerva¡±. Would work too.


    Naming her future creation took only a few seconds, she was a genius, after all. No pedestrian would come up with the idea to name some invention, geographical features, or planets after themselves so quickly.


    Anyway, it was time for a light exercise, after a very light exercise, after a hard exercise. Playing catch ought to be fun, at least all the little ones always did it. Playing catch with each other, playing catch with their parents, they even played catch with wild animals and monsters! Those, who survived the last one, always looked happy.


    If children could have fun that way, why not adults? Mini was almost certain, there was no rule against it ¨C and if there was one, she didn¡¯t care about it.


    Shooting the idiots in the back would cut the chase ¨C and so the fun ¨C short. With an Agility of 15, she would almost certainly close the distance in no time, Normals rarely had Stats above 12 or so. That difference was usually enough for the Elites to be much faster. There were Normals with high Stats, that is, one or two, with at least one other Stat dangerously low in exchange, but Mini doubted, this trash had any. Intelligence, Charisma, and Luck were definitely out.


    Mini''s quick deliberations enabled her prey to get away a little bit ¨C as in only a dozen meters or so. They were even slower than she assumed! Probably not even an Agility 10! Oh, well, they were drunk, and that had some influence on Stats.


    Obviously, Dexterity was influenced too, because the fatter one tripped on the smooth pavement. This was hilarious! Mini was satisfied. She visited a circus in one of the Bergian Kingdoms a few years back, and this was almost like that: funnily dressed morons tumbling around with musical backgrounds. Mini thought, they could have done more funny things with the animals they had, like feeding the morons to them, but it was funny enough.


    Here, the comedic interlude even had fire! And some strange version of rioting!


    ¡°Look, guys, you obviously don''t know, what running away means." Mini sauntered over, where the taller drunk tried to get the fatter one to his feet "See, when you are running away, you don''t take a nap on the sidewalk. Oh, and you do the running at your full speed. This is ridiculous! How high is your Agility? Five?"


    The two fugitives obviously had enough, even the taller one sat down.


    ¡°Fine, kill us! But no ridiculing! Do it in silence, damn wench!¡±


    ¡°Hey! I was just sitting in a bar, minding my own business, when you idiots tried to rob me and wanted to have fun! It''s not my fault!" Mini countered.


    ¡°You wanted to kill our two friends, of course, we would intervene!"


    ¡°It was for science! How could I make a Mini, if I don¡¯t have ingredients?!? They may even have survived!¡±


    ¡°You wanted to make a what?¡±


    ¡°A Mini! It¡¯s my newest invention! You mix different kinds of alcohol and other stuff to make a fine new beverage!¡±


    ¡°So, like a cocktail?¡±


    ¡°A what?¡±


    ¡°Ehhmmm¡­ Dick''s Feathers? Scut? Ehmm¡­ Brush? Damn, I''m not that good in Bergian, sorry." Conversations on Arkadia would have been much easier if everyone spoke the same language ¨C misunderstandings due to faulty translations would have been less common. On the other hand, speaking multiple languages allowed smart people to make a living out of mis-translating important documents. Or interpreting between two rich guys and selling the information to other people.


    Or order beer in multiple languages. Which was probably even more important! Dying of thirst in a foreign country wasn¡¯t fun, after all. If you could do it politely, even better ¨C both the dying of thirst and the ordering. Most locals don¡¯t exactly like impolite foreigners, who don¡¯t even vitalize the economy by buying beer, after all.


    Anyways, Mini was shocked.

 Interlude 4: Whose Nightmare is this?, Part 4

    ¡°Do you mean, a Mini was already invented?!?¡± Mini asked


    ¡°Yeah, the Fellarians knew those things for, I think, forever.¡± the taller one confirmed.


    ¡°Not that long." the fatter interrupted "It''s around for a century or so. There was this alchemist, who made a fortune out of it. He even got to cater to one of the big imperial celebrations! He got a statue in the end! I saw it with my own eyes!"


    Mini was certain, that the jealous alchemist, who stole her unique and perfect idea was a Traveler too. No sane Arkadian native would have the idea to mix different kinds of alcohol together! What would be the point? What next? Put some meat, vegetables, and sauces between two slices of bread, and call it a new invention. Laughable!


    Heh, even give it some idiotic name, like ¡°market town on grainy soil¡±. Maybe in some archaic language, so it sounded more interesting and posh. Thinking about it, Homokv¨¢s¨¢r sounded posh enough. Maybe she should experiment with that, instead of her other, already stolen idea.


    But no. She wasn¡¯t completely crazy ¨C no one would eat such things. Vegetables were there to feed them to actual food.


    Well, they said, she was the wrong kind of crazy, back home. Not fit to lead the Estate after the Duke and the Duchess, well, not necessarily died (that was hard for undead), but retired to do things, retired monarchs did. Probably breed dangerous monsters or maybe little dogs. But no, she had to be Sociopathic ¨C not caring about rules was allegedly bad for upholding rules, they said.


    Not, that Mini saw anything wrong in not being interested in rules.


    Why couldn''t she just be Paranoid, Egoistic, or a normal Psychopath? Superiority complex? Kleptomaniac? Compulsive liar? Corrupt? Narcissistic? All those would have worked for a new leader! Even nymphomania! After all, there was this Estate with nymphs in the East of Forestdeep, and their economy was flourishing!


    They said this and said that. The bottom line was, they thought, she wasn¡¯t perfect! Didn¡¯t deserve to rule the Estate some unknown time in the future! They were clearly wrong! She was perfect, and she deserved everything! Well, the good stuff she deserved.


    ¡°Excuse me, Miss! Could we finish this?¡± one of the ingredients distracted her from her musings.


    ¡°Oh, yeah. Where were we? You won¡¯t provide me with fun, you can¡¯t run away for a nice hunt, and I don¡¯t need ingredients anymore. Hmm¡­ All right! You will bribe me, not to have fun with you any way I want! Bribing beautiful girls you still can do!¡±


    Well, normally, it went the other way: males bribing females with stuff to do stuff with each other. But the logic still held up: if you wanted something to happen ¨C for example, walking away still alive ¨C you were willing to fork up some funds.


    Normally, that would have been called a robbery, but who would hold it against the most perfect Vampire in all of Arkadia? While said Vampire was armed to the (very sharp) teeth, and you weren''t? It was almost like taxes: you may grumble, about how much of your salary was stolen, but you paid nevertheless. Or paid someone to do creative bookkeeping.


    ¡°Bribe you with what?!¡± the fatter one asked


    ¡°The horse, Sepp.¡± the other one answered


    ¡°It¡¯s not a horse, it¡¯s a Nightmare! I haven¡¯t even paid the mortgage on my poor mount off!¡±


    ¡°Oh, you have a Nightmare?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Miss!¡±


    ¡°Wrong answer! I have a Nightmare, you have nothing! Well, you still can have nightmares, if you want. I can provide you with a lot of those!¡±


    ¡°Yes, Miss. No, thank you, Miss!¡±


    Mini was satisfied. These lowly peasants were willing to give her a very nice and expensive mount, all willingly and voluntarily, just because of her splendid perfectness! They were even nice enough not to saddle her with the boring effort of giving them nightmares!


    All right, if Mini were completely crazy, Oblivious, and stupid, she would have thought so. But she wasn''t! She was well aware, she just exhorted a valuable animal from idiots. Not, that she cared. She wasn''t crazy enough for that.


    ¡°Lead the way, maggots!¡± she probably needed to wrap up all this foiled robbery turned successful robbery soon. Her minions were probably already done with their epic, but at the same time pedestrian quests to do¡­ something or other. She distinctly remembered, her future concubine giving directions to the other minions. Retrieve this, get that, steal soap and towels from the inn.


    Whatever.


    If she took too long, Prof would probably whine and make faces. A few more hours surely wouldn''t make any difference anyway. She could play with her food a little bit longer.


    Of course, she was not prepared to let these idiots go. That would make a wrong precedent! Give an awesome Vampire lip, don''t provide her with the promised fun, and just walk away? No way! She would be the laughingstock of everyone!


    She may reign in cruelty and torture and every other fun thing, she could do to and with other people, but¡­ Naw. What would be the fun of that? Actually, she should put a sign on the corpses, ''This happens, if you piss me off'' or something in that line. That would teach every other wrong-doer, not to mess with her!


    On second thought, if wrong-doers learned their lessons, they wouldn¡¯t try to mess with her in the future. They were accommodating and nice enough to search her out ¨C if they stopped doing that, she would need to search for fun and stuff to kill.


    So, probably no signs.


    But, what could possibly go wrong?


    Would the Greenskins send some kind of investigator after her, or a group of enforcers would show up at the most inopportune moment?


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Nah, impossible!


    The two morons led her (not exactly surprisingly) to a stable ¨C it looked exactly like every other Greenskin architecture. Looking around, Mini had to concede that greenskins were even excellent to their animals. The stable looked more comfortable than the average boner garage at home. On the other hand, mindless skeleton slaves didn''t need that much comfort. You could just usher them into any room, and they would stand around until you retrieved them again.


    That, and the average peasant wouldn''t want to fork out the money for some fancy housing for tools. Getting spare skeletons was easy, you just had to dig up a graveyard (if the previous relatives were so inconsiderate to bury their dead and not sell them to a necromancer) or kill some stranger.


    Well, killing strangers was somewhat frowned upon in Forestdeep; sometimes they had relatives, friends, or superiors, who took offense at the untimely death of said stranger. So, either the one with a need for fresh bodies was intelligent enough to just kill strangers without ties, or he was prevented from procreation.


    Most just left strangers alone, or more likely, informed the local ruler. Very few complained to a ruler because of a lost person. If they did, it mostly led to a fun little war. That, consequently, led to a surplus of dead bodies.


    And everyone was happy.


    Except for merchants, specializing in dead bodies, obviously. If there was a surplus of goods, prices fell naturally. This was circumvented by body merchants also dealing in live merchandise. Live people could be made into dead people if the need arose, after all. Well, dead people could be made into semi-dead or undead ones too. Knives and necromancers were fabulous inventions!


    Mini took a look around the stables. It was mostly occupied by different kinds of hogs, but there were a few horses and one or two other animals too. She immediately found her new mount too ¨C a Nightmare had a certain presence. In the wilds, that mostly consisted of panicked shouts or pained screams of random victims. In the stable, there were only various grunts and neighs, but also some challenges of the more carnivorous hogs.


    Predators didn¡¯t like competition.


    She didn''t like competition either. There were only so many people, who would be allowed to kill, rob, and maim folks when she was present. That number was exactly one. Well, she was generous (in the Bergian meaning of the word), so her minions could have fun too. In moderation, and after she gave them the go-ahead.


    ¡°Nice Nightmare. Papers. Now." Mini wasn''t stupid. In most countries ¨C not in Forestdeep, though ¨C dangerous animals, beasts, monsters, and mounts had to have ownership papers, indicating the owner on their Character Parchment wasn''t enough. It was the influence of those boring Elves ¨C making redundant rules, no normal person would care about. Stupid foreigners just adopted those stupid rules!


    Not, that some registration certificate or ownership permit prevented anyone from stealing mounts. Everyone with a high enough [Forgery] could make new papers.


    The whole thing was just invented to annoy her! Luckily, she wasn''t paranoid though, so she was almost certain, the registration card thing wasn''t some world-spanning conspiracy.


    Hopefully, at least.


    ¡°Here you go, Miss. May we leave now?" the previous owner of her newest Nightmare asked. Mini faced a very serious question. Of course, it wasn''t if the morons could leave ¨C the answer to that was a resounding no ¨C but how to dispatch them. Shooting them in the back was a classic, but also quite boring. Just hacking and slashing them to pieces missed style. Hanging them by their intestines till death sounded a bit messy. Oh, wait!


    She could take inspiration from those famous and celebrated blood poets from back up North. Mini didn''t exactly like most of the poetry ¨C she was more of a pulp fiction gal ¨C but they made wonderful sculptures too. Dead bodies, arranged in allegories and depictions of famous occurrences ¨C like The Mage, The Serpent and The Boys, Ecstasy of the Woman, Monsterhunter with a Head, Defeated Monsterhunter. Allegory of Pride, The Cardplayers, and many, many more.


    Her Duke commissioned one sculpture too, Death and Rebirth. With carefully applied magic, the bodies were good for at least a few millennia.


    She could make a sculpture, or a "diorama" as the poets called the compositions! Well, her [Art: whatever was needed] wasn''t exactly high, she suspected, even Prof with his childish drawing was better¡­ No, that wasn''t possible. It was impossible, anyone was better than her in anything! She was perfect and deserved every accolade!


    So, diorama¡­ Maybe¡­ Yes! She would call hers The Smiling Drunks!


    In order to keep the prospective material presentable, she needed to cut a throat just like this and shoot the fleeing other moron in the back just like this. Since she was magnificent and a lot of other things too, she managed to cut and shoot perfectly.


    Of course, failure wasn¡¯t an option!


    First, even her [Daggers] was high enough to kill an unsuspecting moron, and second, she was just perfect and excellent. Just to be sure, she stuck an awesome pose. Unfortunately, there wasn¡¯t a mirror nearby, so the pose was just for the general awesomeness of it. And for everyone, who would be watching.


    Unfortunately, only the animals were watching. Bad luck.


    Mini decided, she definitely needed to get one of those picture-capturing magical trinkets. Immortalizing her (almost) immortal self was a priority.


    In the end, she opted out of making a diorama out of the freshly dead drunkards. Of course, she could make an awesome one, she was awesome that way, but surveying the scene, it looked too much like actual work.


    As stated previously, Mini wasn¡¯t stupid, only slightly insane. Actually, with all those points in Intelligence, she subconsciously realized, that making some awesome piece of art needed a Talent, or at least Skill. Having none of the above, she just invented an excuse. Well, making art actually could look like hard work, if one squinted the right way.


    Especially those art forms, that worked with stone and metals.


    Anyways.


    After dumping the corpses in an empty stall ¨C minus a few parts, that she fed to her new Nightmare ¨C she left for the meeting place. She decided to gift the mount to her future husband-slash-concubine. Of course, without the papers. If the impossible happened, and Prof left her, she would still hold on to the mount, the house, and the boat. Well, they didn''t have a house and a boat yet, but as soon as they got one, she would hold on to those too. Maybe Prof would finally buy a wagon too!


    Thinking about Prof, Mini was sure, he would make a fantastic Vampire in the future. It would be fun to find out, what kind of craziness he would pick up during the ritual. Probably nothing serious ¨C Mini in all her glory was almost sane, after all. On the other hand, not everyone could be as awesome as her.


    On the way out of the riotous city, she debated to participate in the festivities but decided against it in the end. Multiple homicides (and three greenskincides), grand theft Nightmare, and hard-core public indecency were enough for one night. The arson part wasn''t her fault!


    Of course, Greenskins were notoriously excellent, and when one party of rioters noticed her looking longingly at the aflame barricades, they offered her a stall to set on fire.


    She declined. Arson was only fun when it was illegal; being offered something to burn wasn''t arson, but making a campfire. And she wasn''t a pyromaniac. Those folks were a menace! They set fire to a completely good orgy like her uncle-cousin-grandsomething (actually, there was a word for that relation in Forestean) did. While she was participating!


    The riot was starting to get boring, Mini decided. Without willful destruction, what sense did it make in the first place? Hopefully, Prof had some funny story to tell! Knowing him, he surely found himself in some epic struggle, uncovering a conspiracy, helping a nice cult''s struggle for world domination, or¡­ Hey! Maybe he found a new female!


    But no, he just stunk¡­

 Interlude 5: Of Ghosts, Specters, and Eternal Avengers, Part 1

    ¡°Yo, babe, wazup?¡± Shinead Sidhe, Last Survivor and Eternal Avenger was interrupted in her revenge fantasies by a grave voice. The language spoken wasn¡¯t one she knew previously, she was sure. She would have remembered knowing a grating, dark language, that sounded like¡­ dead people coughing up their lungs.


    ¡°Hey, dude, chill! The babe just croaked!¡±


    ¡°No shit, Bro, those douches didn¡¯t even put her under. Buggers!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, Bitch! That''s just dope! A floozy, a hick, and a¡­ whatsit come to our joint, and just leave stiffs everywhere! Do you see a sign, this is a storage for dead Treehuggers? Sorry, Spiorad."


    Shinead understood every last word, despite being new to it. How could that be possible?!? She quickly checked her Character Parchment, just to find a new entry under languages. [Speech: Deadian]: 75%. That explained everything! It was widely known, that every last dead or undead person miraculously learned that language, as soon as they went belly up. So, those disgusting indeed did a red to her! How dare they?!?


    Anyways, being obviously undead meant, that her gambit for becoming an Eternal Avenger worked out in the end! Well, she was an Elf, and Elves were the true masters of Fenria, if not of the whole of Arkadia ¨C not making something work was simply impossible for them.


    Well, there were instances, where making something not work was the goal in the first place. Like, for example, making that mine, city, or person not work anymore. Anything could be made not-working, it was just an accident away in the end.


    Only one question remained: who was talking to her?


    Turning around, she came face to face with six ghostly apparitions. That wasn¡¯t exactly surprising, she had her accident right next to ancient ruins, and she was warned that, like every normal ruin, it was haunted.


    The six undead ¨C Shinead was loath to call them people, obviously, only Elves were people ¨C consisting of a wide mix of species and a few ex-species. The Dragonkin warrior clad in strange scale armor and wielding a thin scimitar, shackles, and chains was most likely a Ghost.


    Another, skeletal form in tattered black robes was almost certainly a Wraith.


    There were two floating Specters, translucent figures with desiccated faces, and a slickly green aura.


    One was a Phantom, an indistinct contour lurking in the shadows ¨C even if there weren¡¯t any shadows around. It was probably not a Dragonkin or an Elf.


    The last one was once an Elf, but now¡­ faded white clothes, skin and hair: a Banshee!


    They were all so stereotypical. Turning undead obviously made other species even more pedestrian and vulgar, than they already were. Even the Elf! A once proud person turned into an ordinary thing without a fashion sense! The clothes weren''t even see-through or form-fitting! How could an Elf wear such clothes?!?


    ¡°So, babe, peachy yet?¡± the Wraith asked.


    ¡°Dude, she¡¯s still blown. You would be too, after getting offed by your pals and suddenly seeing ghosts!¡± one of the Specters interjected. Shinead had the feeling, it was male.


    ¡°Yeah! All us hotties and dolls and even you hunks! I would be blown too!¡± the other, tentatively female, Specter said.


    ¡°Get a grip, sweat pie! Getting popped by your pals ain¡¯t the end of the world. Look, these suckers whacked me, but I still hang out with them, even after all these millennia! Get the buzz on!¡± the braindead ex-Elf tried to cheer Shinead up. She wasn¡¯t exactly prepared to spend eternity with some extinct subelvians. She had some very important revenge killing to do.


    ¡°Yeah, dudette! It''s all fun and games here! No hardcore douche tries to be a twat here! Come on! We are having a dress-up party!" the Phantom told her "See, I''m playing a Phantom!"


    ¡°Dear Sir, you are indeed a Phantom. It is a superfluous endeavor!" Shinead blurted out. It came out more formal than she intended. She mentally tried to put the sentence together in different ways, but wasn''t able to. Maybe 75% in her new Skill wasn''t enough. Or it was language drift over countless millennia.


    ¡°Hah! I¡¯m not a Phantom, I¡¯m just playing one! I¡¯m a Ghost!¡± the Phantom said ¡°Acatl there is the Phantom!¡± he pointed at the male Specter.


    ¡°No need to be posh, babe! We are all bros and broettes here!¡± the real Phantom said.


    ¡°Respected incorporeal fellow undead. It is an unfortunate happenstance, but it seems, that there was a language drift in the passing millennia since you were transformed into your new forms. My gifted new language Skills only provide with this kind of speech." Shinead informed them.


    ¡°Language drift? Doll, you know, Deadian is a dead language, no language drift is going on. You don¡¯t have [Speech: Deadian] at 100%?¡±


    ¡°No, just 75%¡±


    ¡°Figures. So, you know only the posh way to talk. Bummer, folks, that will be annoying." The (probably) Banshee said. "Doll, at your next Level-Up, get it over a hundred. No rad deadhead will wanna talk in posh. Only drags do that! And douches."


    ¡°Yeah, bitch! Talking posh, and everyone will assume, you are a fresh, a douche, or a twat."


    ¡°A fresh?¡±


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    ¡°Newly dead. Undead, I mean.¡±


    Shinead decided, not to waste valuable Skill Points on such a pedestrian Skill. If filthy undead decided, they didn¡¯t like her way of speech, they could learn Elven. Why should any Elf, or freshly undead Elf lower themselves to speak some inferior language?


    Elves were the crown of all creation, so everything they did or invented was the best too!


    While she didn''t entertain the idea of spending the rest of her unlife with some ancient¡­ things (she needed to invent some slurs to refer to Dragonkin), she was well prepared to pick their brains for information.


    Well, not exactly brains, incorporeal undead didn''t have them. Organs were, indeed, mostly superfluous redundancies for undead. Dead people simply didn''t need blood and intestines, and¡­ those things that did stuff to alive people in order to keep them alive.


    All right, they did need blood and brains and flesh and other things, but only as metaphysical foodstuff. But that was the same as a steak for the living: it was needed for sustenance, but if you stuffed one in your head, it did nothing. Besides making you sick.


    The first information, Shinead received (and discarded immediately) were the names of the costume party¡¯s members.


    Acatl was the real Phantom, Spiorad the Elven Ghost, Centeotl and Chihuahua were a Wight and a Wraith, respectively, Eloxochitl was a Specter, while Brightscales Saunders, a Naga, was a Deathwisp. Strangely, there wasn¡¯t a Banshee in their ¡°real¡± collection.


    Why they played dress-up in the middle of the most inhospitable place, Shinead was aware of, was easy to answer: They were bored out of their minds. Only the Dragonkin were bound to the ruins, but the other two were unwilling to leave too ¨C for some strange reason, a lot of folks didn''t exactly like undead, who were feasting on their still-alive (or recently deceased) friends and families.


    It was a kind of survival instinct.


    Besides sleeping for centuries in an underground structure beneath the ruins, they had to invent their own entertainment. For a few centuries, they played forms of government. They went through different forms of Monarchy, Dictatorship, Meritocracy, Plutocracy, Kleptocracy, Ochlocracy, and even Theocracy (where they had to invent gods), Communism, complete Anarchy, and finally Democracy. They got bored in the end by the last one, not being able to decide anything, no matter how many committees they created.


    A few times they held crafting competitions, art shows, literary contests, sports championships, and martial arts tournaments. Most of those ended in draws ¨C without an outside arbiter or audience, every last piece got exactly the same number of votes: One.


    Incorporeal undead obviously got the same negative Perk, Egocentric. Shinead was sure, they had other Perks too, but the collective effect was, that no one was willing to acknowledge, that someone else was maybe better at something.


    Even if they showed their Character Parchments to each other.


    If Shinead was to vote on something as an outsider, she would vote for Spiorad. Naturally, Elves were better in everything, than everyone else, after all. If the losers complained, the Reds were given the opportunity to cause some accidents. Or the Blacks were sent to raze a few towns. Most people realized centuries ago, that the Elves were better anyway, so there was seldom the need for some pointed reminders.


    ¡°See, babe, we even invented a few rad games too! You know that game, played with Arkadia¡¯s rules? Is it still around? We made it into a Live Action Campaign! Ran it for a few decades!¡±


    ¡°Oh, yeah, dude! We had a knight, a thief, a wizard, and a healer. That was soooo rad!"


    ¡°Yeah, doll! We should play that again!¡±


    Shinead started to have a feeling ¨C it was a bad idea to let a couple of immortal morons to their own devices for more, than a few days. Or hours. They even corrupted a once proud Elf with their childish games! Why try any other form of government, when there was the perfect, Elven way? Or play silly live-action games with Arkadia¡¯s rules?!


    After hours upon hours of useless talk ¨C no wonder, the Dragonkin died out, if they were this unfocused! ¨C they finally arrived at the important point. The perverted Traveler, the perverted Vampire, and their perverted little gang.


    Shinead learned about the cur''s mission and had to concede, it was for the advantage of the Domain. Getting the Elven lands safe from all those foreigners was indeed a good idea. That a few countries'' worth of them would have died in the process¡­ Well, if your goal was national security, a little bit of non-Elven collateral casualties were not important.


    Even when basically agreeing with the cur''s mission, they still would have to be accidented away. If not for the other cur''s treachery and an unfortunate accident with her slit throat, she would have sicced the remains of the Traveler''s party on Guillermo. Getting the few tired, most likely wounded, and confused survivors into accidents would have been child''s play.


    Anyway, without her guidance, only the perverted cur died, fittingly shot by her lover ¨C but the Traveler found a replacement female for his urges! The stories were indeed correct! Those Travelers could build their harem, no matter where they went and what they did! How could the Heavenly Game Master allow this?!?


    Anyways, they obviously were intelligent enough not to try to return to the Domain. Every border guard worth their name would just kill them on sight without an Elven minder, and throw their corpses into a ditch. They weren''t even worth being left in a clearing, the proper Elven way! Shinead was surprised, that the three (now four) perverts together had enough brain power to figure it out without a child making a drawing.


    Not, that she would have allowed an Elven child near those¡­ people.


    Shinead only had one problem. Besides finding the party of miscreants. Finding gear. Her corpse was thoroughly looted ¨C that was normal procedure, dead people don¡¯t need valuables and gear, after all. Unless they turn undead in the middle of the Valley of Torment.


    There was gear left behind ¨C but Shinead wasn''t willing to be caught dead with any of that crap. Not only weren''t they non-magical, but the quality was¡­ subpar to be honest. Only monkeys and curs would wield such junk.


    The knives they left behind were even worse ¨C while she was passable with a bow, her main weapon was knives. She had more, than 150% in [Knives], but barely 50% in any other weapon; her choices were limited.


    ¡°Wazzup, babe? The steel not good for you?" the Wraith named something or other, starting with an E asked her after she went through all the remaining gear.


    ¡°Dear fellow undead, I''m proficient with the shorter kind of melee weaponry, trained to deliver surprise attacks to unsuspecting foes. These pieces, left over by my debauched slayers are, to use an impolite word, excrement." Shinead started to get annoyed by having to be polite to corpses. While Deadian did not experience language drift, Elven obviously did. She could barely understand Spiorad, and so was forced to talk posh.


    ¡°Ya need a shiv, dudette? To shank the cookies? Squad, do we still have the stuff lying around? The new chick needs a new kit!"


    ¡°Cool! We can play dress-up with her! I will get the enchanted chain bikinis!¡±


    ¡°Let me take a look at the armory. I think, there were some absolutely rad shivs hanging around. Ya need ones for shanking or chucking?¡±


    With that, the six undead almost started to vibrate. Shinead wasn''t exactly sure anymore, it was such a rad idea to ask bored blokes for surplus gear. But then again, who knows, what kind of ancient, legendary weaponry and stuff they kept around? Probably stuff better, than a generic, low-level plusone.

 Interlude 5: Of Ghosts, Specters and Eternal Avengers, Part 2

    ¡°See, babe, this one can be worn by corporeal and incorporeal dudettes both!" the Naga Deathwisp handed her a very nice-looking piece of clothing, made out of chainmail. At least, the Naga called it "underwear", but Shinead wasn''t exactly sure, what that meant. Why should someone wear extra clothing beneath their clothes? Even normal clothes were mostly unnecessary and could be discarded at will.


    The two-piece, she was handed, could be worn even to the most formal occasions. Without any other accessories, like¡­ pants or such.


    ¡°Babe, you wanna have gear, you can use in your incorporeal form too! Wouldn''t be cool, if you turned and left all your stuff on the ground. Few folks would die from just flashing them, ain''t it right, babe?"


    How prude Humans were, they may die from embarrassment, Shinead thought. Or they got aroused and start hooting and throwing poop around, like the monkeys they were. Anyways, keeping her gear with her was probably a good idea.


    ¡°Doll, try these boots on too! Absolutely rad, they even resize! A lost art!¡± next, she was handed a pair of thigh-high black boots. It even had high heels. Shinead somewhat doubted their utility, but with Agility and Dexterity both at 20, she was confident, she would be able to manage locomotion. It couldn¡¯t be that hard, no?


    ¡°I don¡¯t think, we have any other pieces of clothing, that could become incorporeal.¡±


    ¡°The cape!¡±


    ¡°Oh, yeah, the cape! Where is it? Oh yeah, there. Here, babe! It makes you invisible!" the cape in question was a thin black piece with some red highlights, knee length, and came with a hood too. It could be fixed on the wearer by a collar.


    ¡°Hot stuff, babe! You look lush! Now, for weaponry! If you were any good in [Exotic Weapons], I would recommend these whips. But you want knives, babe¡­ That¡¯s a snore.¡±


    Shinead actually liked the two presented whips ¨C one a short leather, the other a longer, nine-tailed one with nails woven into it. She was certain, she could have a lot of fun with them.


    In the end, she received three new daggers ¨C more precisely, two daggers, a stiletto, one with a broad, leaf-shaped blade, and a throwing knife. The last one could be recalled to her hand, while the daggers were heavily enchanted with sharpness, durability, extra damage, and a few others. The wide one even had a poison enchantment!


    Definitely not some pedestrian plusones!


    She was nevertheless surprised, some ancient undead were only able to cough up so weak gear for a fantastic Elven Avenger, out on a mission. Well, they weren''t Elves, and probably thought, a stone hammer was the culmination of precision engineering.


    Being an undead had some advantages for long-distance travel: she had no need for provisions, camping gear, or tents. Well, the stupid Traveler never managed to get tents in the first place, only in his pants, so there was no difference to her current situation. Minus the pants-parts.


    She was now free of any obligations, so if she ever met someone pitching a tent, there would be heavy punishment involved. Maybe she could get one of those whips, after all?


    The only gear she needed to dig up, were the different tracking devices. Both her own and those of the perverted cur of Little Sister. It was surprising, that those money-hungry cretins left them behind, they were expensive after all. On the other hand, they were intelligent enough to leave them behind ¨C if anyone found out, they had them, it would paint a target on their backs. And heads. And every other body part.


    She officially commandeered the backpack of one of the deceased Humans ¨C a last service for their true masters. Although it wasn''t magical ¨C and not of stunning quality ¨C it was still the best of what remained. The undead group either didn''t have a bag of holding or were unwilling to give her one.


    Plebeians, all of them.


    She was probably fine, either way ¨C as a Level 7, semi-corporeal Elven undead, no simple woodland animal or monster could stand against her! That was even without counting her new gear. As an Elf, she was simply so superior!


    What she didn''t exactly get, was how she retained her Levels and Skills. As far as she knew, turning undead required complicated rituals, and the resulting creature always lost some Levels. On the other hand, she was committed to her revenge and was an Elf ¨C surely, the Heavenly Game Master handed out some free gifts for once. She was absolutely sure, she didn''t get further negative Perks or such either.


    Schizophrenia, Psychopathy, Egoism, and Sexual Sadisms she already had, she was sure.


    ¡®No, you hadn¡¯t!¡¯


    Even if voices in her head told her things, she was absolutely sure, she did not have any negative Perks regarding mental health. It was impossible! She was a ¨C little bit undead ¨C Elf and Arkadia''s master race couldn''t have such!


    After a short discussion with herself about mental disorders, she didn¡¯t and couldn¡¯t have, she was ready to chase the depraved Traveler¡¯s harem down. Of course, a little bit of torture was to be included in their demise!


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    Unfortunately, her trusted friend, Mr. Woody was stolen by one of those perverts, so she wasn¡¯t able to have a meeting with him right now.


    Either way, she was off. All her tracking devices pointed vaguely into a direction, she assumed was West, but she couldn''t get a clear bearing. It was probably due to the Valley''s strange fabric of space. Finding her enemies within the Valley was almost impossible, to begin with, no matter, how good her tracking devices were. And really good, they weren''t. At best, she could hope to accidentally stumble upon them.


    Her plan was easy: She knew, where the perverts were headed, so she would make it directly to Greenskin lands, and wait for them there. Of course, she would check the devices from time to time, even within the Valley, but her main ambush would be outside!


    It was a perfect plan, befitting a highly trained Elven operative.


    ¡®Which you are not.¡¯


    Of course, she had to discuss her professionalism with herself. Of course, she won.


    Finally, she was ready to leave the ruin''s clearing, to the teary-eyed waving of the resident undead. It was almost like when she was a little kid, out on her first mission to cause accidents. It was just poisoning a random apple in a garden, but her parents were so proud! Barely six, and already on her first mission! Less, than two decades later, and she was off on a legendary quest, that would ensure her being immortalized in paintings, poems, maybe even a novel. Hopefully, not in one of those trashy, serialized ones. Those were just gross. Or a statue! Or even multiple ones!


    Shinead Sidhe, Elven Avenger extraordinary, checked her gear for the last time at the forest''s border and set out. As she disappeared due to the Valley''s strange geography, she missed a quite important discussion, happening between her benefactors.


    ¡°Finally, that moron is gone. Taking bets, how long she will last.¡±


    ¡°Five minutes!¡±


    ¡°Nah, she¡¯s better than that. I say a month!¡±


    ¡°I have faith in the kid. I say, a year!¡±


    ¡°Pfff¡­ No way! A week it is!¡±


    ¡°Shouldn''t we have provided her with better stuff? We still have that hero gear lying around somewhere."


    ¡°Giving a random kid legendary armament just because she showed up? What next? Cheat Powers? The flying ship?¡±


    ¡°The ship doesn¡¯t work. And we would need to dig it up.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I know! It was a rhetorical question!¡±


    ¡°Besides, why would we give her the good stuff? That idiot didn¡¯t even realize, we were pulling her leg with the slang!¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah! Yo babe, you dig my threads? HAHAHAHA!¡±


    ¡°What an idiot.¡±


    ¡°You think, she will find the tracking spells?¡±


    ¡°No way. You would need to be a highly qualified Dragonkin mage to find those!¡±


    ¡°But that naked Human a century ago found them within the hour!¡±


    ¡°Of course he found them, he was a Traveler, with Cheat Powers up to his gills!¡±


    ¡°Humans don¡¯t have gills.¡±


    ¡°Whatever. Would be funny to know, what happened to him. Would have been fun to watch.¡±


    ¡°Probably died horribly somewhere. Battle maniacs like him usually don¡¯t live that long. ¡®Oh, look! Ancient Ruins!¡¯ ¡®Evil Necromancers! Let¡¯s kill them!¡¯ ¡®An expedition to unknown lands? No one returned from there? Sign me up!¡¯ ¡®Kill the Demon Lord!¡¯. They are all the same.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Kids these days! In our time, we still had real adventurers!¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah! Remember the guy, who pissed off the Heavenly Game Master, and tried to get home on his ship? THAT was an adventurer!¡±


    ¡°EPIC!¡±


    ¡°That was a classic! I think, I still have the book somewhere.¡±


    ¡°Really? Can I have it?¡±


    ¡°Sure, if I can find it. Anyways, should I fire up the viewing array?¡±


    ¡°Definitely! I will raise a few of the corpses, we will need extras for our next game, anyway.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah. We sliced up the last batch. Even undead aren¡¯t as durable these days.¡±


    ¡°Exactly! Back in the day, even a simple skeleton was good for centuries! Now? Barely a decade! Disgusting! How can these new folks survive with so brittle bones?!?!"


    ¡°They don¡¯t!¡±


    The undead guardians paused they banter for a short time, laughing about the joke and the kids these days. Of course, not understanding young folks is the prerogative of the elderly ¨C and if you still remember the times, when Elves were barely considered sapient, you definitely have a lot to not-understand. And laugh about it. Not, that many would take offense at millennia-old undead laughing about them. And live long enough to tell the tale.


    ¡°A pity, they took all the booze. No offense, Centeotl, but your brew is shit."


    ¡°Well, I have only grass as an ingredient, you try to make good stuff out of that!"


    ¡°I know, I know. You are right. Maybe we should try planting an orchard.¡±


    ¡°We already tried that, remember? It didn¡¯t work.¡±


    ¡°Oh, yeah. Do you think, we could trade something with the Hairy Human With Big Feet?¡±


    ¡°We tried that already too. He ran away screaming.¡±


    ¡°Sure, but we played dress-up at that time. I would have run away screaming if it happened to us! We were scary!"


    ¡°Let¡¯s go watch the kid! I made pickled souls!¡±


    ¡°You are the best!¡±


    As the immensely bored undead gang retreated for some entertainment, the object of their entertainment faced a serious question not far (and at the same time very far) away.


    Which direction was West?

 Interlude 5: Of Ghosts, Specters and Eternal Avengers, Part 3

    Finding West isn''t hard, is it? You look at the Sun, and if you know, what time it is, you can figure out the direction quite easily. Otherwise, you will go in any direction, maybe even West. So, finding West is allegedly easy. If [Navigation] is high enough, it should be even easier. The issue, complicating the supposedly easy task of finding West was manifold. For example, 75% in the relevant Skill was enough in places with a clear view of the sky and the Sun, but in a thick forest, where the Sun was obscured by leaves, haze, and clouds, it was¡­ insufficient.


    Having a compass would have been quite helpful ¨C while Shinead had two, both were magical pieces and weren''t built to point North (or South, West, East, or any fixed direction). It was nice to know, where certain people or such were, but a compass should also point to a fixed direction. It is what a compass does, after all.


    Unfortunately, the manufacturers of both pieces obviously thought, such basic functions were redundant for highly trained operatives. Those people usually could navigate unknown places quite well.


    With a little bit of mental acrobatics, she was able to reset one of her compasses. Now, it pointed directly at Greenskin lands. It was in the West, so the compass was pointing West. More-or-less. She was a genius to figure out that use!


    Of course, since she was an Elf, being a genius was a given, after all. All the voices in her head thought so too! They were ¨C probably ¨C Elves too, so it wasn''t a big surprise, every last one reinforced her conviction, that Elves were naturally superior.


    Well, the very last voice ¨C most likely a non-Elf or a traitor ¨C tried to convince her, that every sapient creature was equal and such nonsense, but Shinead ignored the deranged ravings of that one. Where would the glorious Elvenkind end with such ideas?!?


    Elves would probably transform into Humans, just with pointy ears, or some lazy, deranged, and perverted creature, like the Travelers'' home planet was full of. There was simply no way to abandon the trusted ways of Elvenkind for some sick ideology! Shinead was sure of that.


    Well, Shinead was a born Arkadian, and an Elf after all. New ideas were suspicious everywhere, not just on Arkadia, and if those new ideas were brought over by non-Arkadians from a different planet or multiverse, it was doubly so. Propagating new ideas was also suspicious, especially when the one doing so could prove with his Character Parchment, that he wasn¡¯t exactly sound of mind. Or at least, how Arkadia¡¯s Administrator viewed his ideas.


    Burning folks with ideas at the stake was a universal solution.


    Places with magic only made sure, the soul was captured or destroyed at the same time too. No use to get saddled with an undead with ideas, after all.


    Of course, Shinead only dealt with the issue in the most rudimentary way ¨C not intellectually, but with a knife to the kidney. Acute metal poisoning usually made ideas go away in an expedited manner too. Unfortunately for her, stabbing a voice in her head in the kidneys wasn''t exactly easy to do.


    First, she needed a good mage to exorcise the voice and give it corporeal form ¨C going stabby would be easy afterward. Finding a good enough mage, she was willing to let dig around in her head in the Valley, where there was a marked absence of sapients (i.e. Elves), was a lost proposition.


    Not, that anything was wrong with her head; every last voice in her head (including that traitorous one) agreed on that.


    Shinead had to admit, being undead had its perks. Not Perks, but everyday perks. Not tiring at all, not needing to sleep or eat helped her immensely in her pursuit of that depraved party. The distance, normal mortals would need two or three days to travel, she could do it in only one. Including slowing down during darkness in order to not run into random trees face first. Since she was a perfect undead Elf, she definitely didn''t run into trees.


    ¡®Of course you did!¡¯


    ¡®Multiple times!¡¯


    Moronic voices! What do they know about how to properly navigate dense forests?!? She just investigated those trees very closely!


    ¡®Sure, you did!¡¯


    ¡®Yeah, how high are your Skills again?¡¯


    The voices started to get sassy. Maybe she should get rid of them, after all. Reinforcing her importance and awesomeness was one thing, but sabotaging her thinking was another. Was this a committee, or what?!?


    Either way, it took a few days ¨C while she wasn''t running into trees face first, no matter, how hard the voices laughed ¨C to find the first traces of the perverts. It was in a city, previously belonging to the lowly Greenskins. Why those hoglovers were living in such decaying hovels, she couldn''t really understand. On the other hand, Humans were living in hovels, no proud Elf would put their swine into it.


    A few centuries or a millennia or two (or a magical cataclysm) weren''t an excuse to let proper buildings deteriorate in such a manner, so they were probably built this way. The city was probably the hoglover''s pride; everyone knew, that they lived in hide-covered tents, or fornicated in the mud! No wonder, they couldn''t build structures, that survived more, than a few years. Or a generation or two.


    That an Elven generation was a little bit longer, than of other species, Shinead didn¡¯t care about. In her thinking, that minute detail only reinforced Elven superiority. Well, everything reinforced that ¨C including but not limited to having hair, not having hair on the face, not getting hung up on having clothes, having campgrounds, or proper bureaucracy.


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    By this time, every last extra-Arkadian probably realized, something was wrong with Elves in general and Shinead in particular. Maybe, if someone would have warned those extra-Arkadians months ago, that dealing with Elves leads to lost teeth, that realization would have come earlier.


    Oh, wait.


    Either way¡­ Shinead did find traces of her targets within those almost new, probably not-ruins. What she found, disgusted her even more. Those perverts had to go!


    What kind of depraved pervert would fornicate with Brook Hags in their "beds", and then kill them off? If those degenerates were Elves (Red Elves in particular), Shinead would have assumed, they successfully caused accidents to the sleeping Hags, but they were not, and Shinead knew the party well enough to come to the only possible correct answer!


    They were having multiple orgies! With the disgusting Hags!


    This was low, even for a Traveler! Had they no shame? No limits?!


    Shinead was glad, a Red happened to her and didn''t have to see that perversion of even the laxest of Arkadia''s tastes. Not even Humans would fornicate with a Hag willingly. At least that she knew of. She hadn''t exactly visited Human lands that much (and those visits mostly consisted of a few quick accidents, no study of the so-called culture was included), but she heard enough stories.


    Be as it may, this was another reason to get rid of Travelers, and this one especially. Including his harem of degenerates.


    Looking around the abandoned city, she found the Hag''s vault after a short time. It was clear, that the greedy bunch tried to ransack the accumulated wealth, but still left much behind. Shinead found piles of old Elven, Greenskinnian, and even Human currency, jewelry, weapons, armor, trinkets, and even magical clothes. All in different styles and ages.


    Judging by the piles and piles of discarded items, those losers weren''t able to identify the gear and were intelligent enough not to use magical stuff with unknown properties. Even those monkeys had some minimal sense, after all!


    Of course, Shinead wasn''t able to identify the gear either, but there wasn''t anything she needed, after all. She received passable equipment from that vulgar undead, and what use would be old currency in the barbaric West?


    ¡®One could buy stuff with money.¡¯


    Of course, one of the voices had to add its two Leaves. That particular voice was obviously an idiot, though. Why would a proper Elf pay for stuff, every marginally intelligent being would hand over for free? Or buy stuff, when she could take it?!? Preposterous!


    ¡®Some of the gear looks good.¡¯


    ¡®Yeah, maybe you should bring a few. Someone could identify them!¡¯


    The other voices were morons too. Equipping herself with lowly, foreign-made stuff?!? Dragging trash around?!? Was she a Traveler, or what?


    ¡®Your current gear is foreign-made.¡¯


    Shinead chose to ignore that comment.


    ¡®That pile looks like Elven stuff. You could take those.¡¯


    One of the more reasonable voices informed her. Rescuing high-quality Elven gear from their captivity in a foreign land and from the taint of foreign trash would be an admirable quest, she concluded. Maybe it would warrant a footnote in a book, or a paragraph in an expertise. Well, it wasn¡¯t a legendary novel or an epic poem, but it was still something.


    ¡®Dream on, babe.¡¯


    And there was the asshole voice again. Why being so negative about everything? You don''t have the Skills for this, you aren''t fantastic that, not even a footnote for you! Hah! Normally, even if she didn''t get a novel on her own, at least nine short chapters or so would be dedicated to her, as it was her due! Who wouldn''t want to read about the exploits of a highly trained Red Elf operative, as she shadowed an evil (and depraved) Traveler? Uncovering millennia-old conspiracies, and avenging her Clan?


    ¡®Yeah, that would be just awesome!¡¯


    ¡®Surely, everyone would be immensely interested in that!¡¯


    ¡®Better, than reading about, say, standing in line in the Department of Wagon Registrations¡¯


    For some strange reason, Shinead felt, the voices were overly sarcastic. That feeling was reinforced by resonant laughter from maybe a dozen voices.


    But no, it was impossible, that the voices were laughing at her, they surely laughed with her, or because of some joke, she didn''t get. After all, she didn''t pay much attention to random voices in her head.


    That was actually a good choice ¨C listening to random voices mostly leads to getting shot by the local constabulary or being put into a room with very soft walls. Neither the guards nor the healers are overly interested in you defending your actions by pointing to the nice voices.


    Well, Shinead could burn, maim and kill on her own, she didn''t need the encouragement of sassy, idiotic, or asshole voices.


    After a short discussion with the more reasonable voices, she collected a bag full of to-be-rescued Elven artifacts. She left the overly shiny stuff behind since everyone knew, the blinky stuff was just for show, the real treasures were the unassuming pieces. The same logic applied to one or two rusty weapons ¨C if they were rusty, they couldn''t have been highly magical, and thus couldn''t have marked cultural significance.


    After all, she wanted to rescue important gear, not equip herself with overpowered stuff! She was good enough on her own, she didn''t need cheat powers!


    ¡®Of course, you are just that good. Sure!¡¯


    Even the voices agreed while laughing at the idea, she would need blinky stuff!


    Well, if she cared to ask a certain (or every last) Earth-expat, overpowered blinky stuff would be the way to go, if for nothing else, than to sell it as soon as a slightly better piece was found lying discarded on the corpse of a random villain.


    Also, rusty swords in a pile of magical and expensive stuff would raise quite a few flags ¨C but again, they may just be very badly made basic gear without a rust-repelling enchantment.


    As a different party learned not so long ago learned, having someone with magical talents around was immensely important on Arkadia. How else would you plunder a hidden vault, and take only the most valuable stuff for any given weight? Not many had unlimited carrying capacity in a magically enlarged trinket.


    After stowing the rescued items in her basic backpack (she wasn¡¯t able to get rid of the blood stains, not that she tried very hard), she set out to investigate, where her quarry went. Those morons weren¡¯t going to kill themselves, after all.

 Interlude 5: Of Ghosts, Specters and Eternal Avengers, Part 4

    Finding the next clue wasn''t overly hard: still smoking ruins had the habit of standing out like a sore thumb. Why she didn''t pay attention to the probably most out-of-place feature in the basically new Greenskin collection-of-hovels (that was the correct translation the Elves used for every non-Elven settlement), she couldn''t exactly understand. A Perception of 16, Good Vision, and an [Observe] of 80% should be enough for that, no?


    On the other hand, she probably did notice the building but paid no attention to it. Yes, that was it! How should she know, Greenskins didn''t build it like that on purpose? All those non-Elves had, after all, these strange habits of¡­ Living, not accepting their Elven overlords as overlords, not following the superior Elven way of life, or being non-Elves.


    She did notice, however, that the ground around the ruin was littered with gemstones. So, her Stats, Perks, and Skills worked just fine, after all!


    Why there were gems scattered around, she could only speculate. It was probably either some "cultural" thing of non-Elves or that accursed Traveler did something perverted again. She drew a blank on how one could do perverted things with gems, but it was the most likely explanation. Since it was done by a Traveler, it had to be something perverted.


    A mating ritual, maybe?


    ¡®You could put Skill Points in any foreign [Culture] or such¡¯


    At least some of the voices had a sense of humor. Why would an Elf need Points in any foreign-related Skills? Most customs were about bashing each other''s heads with clubs, with the winner finding a big rock to stand on and throw poop around. Maybe while slapping his chest and growling. No need to waste expensive Skill Points for that!


    Anyways¡­ After noting the remains of some Traveler mating ritual (or was it a post-orgy orgy?), Shinead surveyed the ruined building. Something powerful exploded there, there was no question about it. She was reasonably sure, the perverts weren¡¯t able to pilfer such explosives from her or that traitor Guillermo¡¯s ragtag group.


    So, logically, they probably found some magical artifact in the hoard and started to play with it, like the idiots they were. However, there were no remains to be found, and her survey indicated, that the party didn''t leave on foot either. Again, logically, there were two possibilities left: they were completely annihilated or by some miracle, they managed to teleport out of the city.


    After checking her magical compass, only one possibility remained.


    How could it be possible?! What kind of Luck was needed to find a working teleporter, start playing with it, and succeed? All the while no one knowing anything about magic?


    No wonder, Travelers were considered a scourge, and they were hunted down without mercy! Shinead shuddered at the thought, of what would happen, if those pesky extra-Arkadians were left to their own devices. One Heroes¡¯ Party was dangerous as it was, but imagine multiple ones, not even counting solo morons or unsupervised Crafters! Absolute chaos! Mayhem!


    Well, as long as the Heroes were outside of the Domain, it would be all right, but the destruction would splash over sooner or later, she was certain.


    There were enough cautionary tales!


    Like the one crafter, who tried to build a ¡°newk¡±, just because it was fun, and he could. She was shown (as most of the important people) the crater, that once was a secure research facility.


    No, killing Travelers on sight (or at least putting them under constant supervision, and killing them later) was for the good of all of Arkadia! Or, more importantly, the Domain.


    Well, she already planned to kill the Traveler (and his party of perverts) off ¨C probably only after, she had a little bit of fun ¨C but now it was an obligation! No person, who would find and manage to operate an old teleportation array, while being a magical dud could be left alive! If he managed that, there was no limit, to what kind of other long-lost treasures he may have found!


    Maybe even something, that could turn whole societies on their heads! Of course, not Elven society, that would be impossible. Start wars! Give those non-Elves restricted knowledge!


    If, no, when she completed her self-imposed task of single-handedly saving all of Arkadia (and more importantly, the Domain) from the machinations of a depraved Traveler, there would be legendary legends, epic poems, wonderful paintings, and spectacular statues waiting for her!


    As it was her due.


    No rest for the undead! Onwards into the setting sun! She struck a heroic pose, before setting out. The whole awesomeness of her departure was only slightly marred by the fact, that the sun wasn¡¯t visible, it was actually morning, and she started in the wrong direction initially.


    Of course, artistic license would be able to cover up that blunder of the sun.


    Navigating the Valley wasn¡¯t getting easier, she found. While she tried to keep a westerly course, the Valley¡¯s weak fabric deposited her to different parts constantly. Once she gained a glimpse of the sea, another time she could have sworn, there was a sprawling city, full of life behind the next bushes.


    Another time she arrived at a majestic river, just to lose it, when she rounded a few trees ¨C just to arrive at the same river days later. On the Western bank.


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    She even came up on the ruins of a once invincible Elven hilltop settlement! And the ruins of collections-of-hovels of other species.


    The most disturbing find was a huge cemetery, with gravestones and mausoleums as far as her superb eyes could see. What species left it behind, she only could guess, but it was most likely Humans. No Elf would put proud Elven dead into the ground, and Greenskins ate their dead.


    The disturbing part wasn¡¯t the existence of the graveyard, or that uncivilized species were putting dead people into the ground (well, that one was disgusting), but how new the whole thing looked. It was almost like someone tended to the whole area.


    Unfortunately, her compass pointed directly across the storage of dead people.


    Just to make sure, she wasn''t followed, she ducked behind a few bushes, but when she emerged, the cemetery was already gone. What a pity, she was prepared to fight the most likely evil and high-Level caretaker! Absolutely! Nothing and nobody could stand in the way of a determined Elven operative!


    ¡®Coward.¡¯


    ¡®Stop lying to yourself!¡¯


    ¡®What a waste of good ectoplasm.¡¯


    The voices were cranky assholes again. Ducking behind bushes was just due diligence, even if doing so contained the danger, she would emerge somewhere completely different! Hopefully¡­ Ehmmm¡­ Regrettably far away from the graveyard! Yes!


    ¡®Self-deluded moron.¡¯


    It sounded like the voices were disgusted by her. No matter, she would show them, all of them, not just the voices! She would cause so many accidents, flog and bind up so many submissive Humans, that a Red Happened would get a new meaning! Whole countries will weep! At least those, who aren¡¯t gagged at the moment, or were liking her shiny, thigh-high leather boots!


    She needed to get Mr. Woody back as soon as possible.


    At least there were animals and monsters, she could dispatch to reinforce her superiority to the voices. Being able to turn incorporeal at will, and place some lethal sneak attacks was actually fun. The wildlife was unable to smell her in her ghostly form ¨C on the other hand, her physical form probably had an odor, that scavengers found irresistible.


    What that smell could be, she had no idea. She definitely didn¡¯t stink like a week-old corpse, that was for sure. Elves don¡¯t stink.


    ¡®When was the last time, you took a bath?¡¯


    ¡®You know, you are a week-old corpse?¡¯


    Idiotic voices.


    If that lowly and perverted Vampire didn¡¯t stink, it was impossible, that a glorious Elven undead would stink! And, she was fresher!


    So, it was probably just her magnetic personality.


    If Shinead were a zoologist, she probably would have found a Valley a fascinating research object. With how weak the fabric of space was, it would be worth a thesis on how territorial beasts could maintain their territory. Or how said territorial beasts transited to nomadic, or how beasts and men could navigate the labyrinth of space successfully.


    Unfortunately for Arkadia''s scientific community, Shinead wasn''t a zoologist and didn''t care about science in the first place.


    She did, however, slaughter her way through countless rare animals, beasts, and monsters on the verge of extinction. If she had at least collected the remains or taken her time to examine her prey, some minimal value could have been saved for all eternity. In this case, she was just a rich prick, out on safari.


    At least, she gained a Level!


    It was a testimony to Shinead''s dedication, that she managed even that much ¨C since Arkadia obviously didn''t reward the perpetrators of the next extinction event. Innocent monsters were probably cornerstones of the local ecosystem.


    Anyways, despite the urging of the voices to put her hard-earned Skill Point in frivolities like [Culture: Greenskinian], [Etiquette: Greenskinian], [Laws: Greenskinian], or at least [Speech: Greenskinian], she allocated every last Point to [Knives]. She wasn''t going to the Greenskin horde''s lands to party or make friends, but to save Arkadia from the clutches of a perverted Traveler!


    Besides, Elven culture and language were good enough for her grandma, so it was good enough for her too. If those barbarians wanted to talk to her, they should have learned Elven.


    Killing wildlife got easier after she Leveled, anyway.


    For a time, she debated with the voices to follow a stream Southwest, but in the end, she won. Naturally. The stream went Southwest, but her target was due West ¨C why she would detour in the wrong direction, the voices couldn''t logically explain. If space was shot in the face with a crossbow bolt anyway, it was more logical to keep going in a set direction, and not wander around, searching for picturesque streams and glades.


    The voices just groaned in the face of her superior intellect.


    Usually, listening to random voices in your head isn¡¯t a good idea, but ironically Shinead managed to acquire reasonable voices. Voice of reason is a real thing, but usually, this consists of friends, relatives, or superiors, who tell you, you are a dick or moron ¨C you may or may not listen, but in the latter case, they will get fed up sooner or later. In this case, any shrink would have been able to make a comfortable living out of dealing with Shinead. Most freshly turned Undead had some severe mental health issues, but mostly their creators, friends, and relatives could help with optimizing the newly acquired Perks.


    In Shinead¡¯s case, she had the misfortune to turn undead in the middle of nowhere, only watched over by a bunch of extremely bored ancient beings. That, and she had a few screws loose even before.


    All in all, this was a situation, where she should have listened to nice voices, telling her what to do.


    Since she didn¡¯t listen¡­


    What felt like years, but probably was closer to a month, she finally managed to exit the Valley in Greenskin lands. Right in front of her was a beautiful lake, with some cliffs on the other side. Even with all her issues, she was able to appreciate a picturesque sight ¨C the only thing, marring the experience was a butt-ugly structure on one of the cliffs, overlooking the lake.


    Well, Greenskin architecture was objectively repugnant, even Human hovels had more grace. Not much more, but at least a little bit.


    Just for the ugliness of it, she debated burning it down ¨C to the displeasure of the voices. Just as she decided to leave it aside ¨C her compass told her, the perverts weren¡¯t there, and it would be a waste of time; no, the voices definitely didn¡¯t persuade her ¨C flute tunes started to emerge from nearby bushes. She would have called it suspenseful.


    ¡°Freeze, Treesquezer! Identify yourself!¡±


    She was sooooo burning down that structure!

 Interlude 5: Of Ghosts, Specters and Eternal Avengers, Part 5

    It was actually surprising, that out of a band of six assorted Greenskins one was able to talk in a civilized language ¨C Elven, that is. The heavy accent and wrong word choices made even that short sentence almost incomprehensible, however. Well, not everybody could have been born superior, as Shinead was, and even that one sentence probably overloaded the feeble brain of the Greenskin.


    Well, even if they had asked her in the most sophisticated way, worth for a discussion on the High King¡¯s Academy, she wasn¡¯t going to identify herself to lowly peons. Mostly, because she lost all her papers somewhere in the grave.


    It wasn''t a huge loss, as soon as she returned to the Domain, they would be reissued quite quickly, and it would take only a couple of months to stand in line in different offices.


    It was time to teach those creatures, who was a member of the master race! Elves, not Undead, even if the latter helped a little bit. She was good enough on her own, the fact, that now she could be only damaged by Critical Hits was nothing ¨C or, if she turned incorporeal, Critical Hits done by magical weapons.


    ¡®I think, we should find a less moronic person.¡¯


    ¡®Agreed!¡¯


    ¡®Seconded!¡¯


    ¡®Wait, guys! We are the voices of reason! What would become of this idiot, if we left?¡¯


    ¡®Don¡¯t care.¡¯


    Shinead wondered, who the voices were talking about. The only idiotic morons or moronic idiots she saw were the Greenskins, and she was mostly certain, they couldn''t hear her voices. Hmmm¡­ Probably they meant one of the other voices. For example that one, who insisted on making stupid choices. Like learning Greenskinian stuff or following a random stream.


    Grinning, she drew her daggers and turned incorporeal. The game was on!


    As she found out, there was no need to dodge, evade, parry, or block anymore. She passed through flesh, armor, and weapons without a hitch ¨C only magical stuff could block her anymore! Her daggers, though, cut flesh as they were supposed to. Barely a dozen moves, a stab here, a slash there, and all six of those plebian Greenskins were hugging the ground, dead.


    She even felt a little bit satiated.


    Obviously, the local bi-pedals gave her more¡­ energy?... power?... something-or-other, than the monsters in the Valley. Good to know. She already noticed, that she could go and go and endlessly, but turning incorporeal or back consumed some kind of¡­ something-or-other, that made her¡­ not exactly hungry. Lethargic wasn''t the right word either.


    ¡®That¡¯s life force.¡¯


    ¡®Also known as life energy.¡¯


    The voices were probably just guessing, or inventing stuff. She decided to go with hunger, instead of some kind of bogus term, moronic voices came up with.


    So, defeating the Greenskins alleviated her hunger by consuming foodstuff as she phased through their bodies. That was good enough for her.


    Either way, the next item on her very short list was to cause some permanent accident to that eyesore or construct on the cliffs. Of course, with the inhabitants included. How to do it?


    Fire was always a classic, non-Elves tended to build their hovels out of wood, straw, grass, and¡­ other combustible materials ¨C without making sure, said materials couldn''t actually catch fire. Interestingly, they got smarter the more buildings accidentally caught fire. According to some of the senior Clansmen, recently, as in the last century or so, at least the monkeys started to incorporate fire-repelling magic into their more important buildings. They took their time with that.


    Unfortunately, Greenskin architecture didn¡¯t use wood that much, as far as she knew. Setting fire to stone was possible, but not worth the effort.


    Since the structure was located on a cliff, someone Skilled in [Magic: Earth] or [Magic: Geomancy] could erode the cliff, so the building would fall into the lake. A completely naturally occurring accident. Or cause a localized earthquake ¨C that one would be even more fun. Not only would the larger-than-normal-hovel fall into the lake, but would collapse in itself too.


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    Unfortunately, she had no easy access to any magic user, and digging out the cliff on her own was a waste of time.


    A flood, a storm, and a plague were out too. Well, a plague was still on the table, she only had to foul the water and food supply with excrement or some disease. She could make it work but was too large of an effort for a quick accident. And, if the locals were even marginally competent (which she somehow doubted), they could de-plague the site.


    After a thorough deliberation of a few seconds, she decided on the most optimal and fun accident to befall the locals: kill them manually. Or, as educated Elves called it, accident them to death. No matter, what the barbaric tribes outside the Domain said, it was an accident, if someone died of metal poisoning because he ingested or inhaled a dagger. Very few would voluntarily do so, consequently, it would be an accident.


    Elven logic was clearly superior.


    ¡®If you could call it a logic, in the first place''


    Traitorous voices.


    Since simply sauntering over to the main entrance and causing accidents would only be done by absolute amateurs, which she wasn''t, she first had to observe the building and the goings within. Sauntering over to the main entrance could follow after that.


    After only a few minutes, she realized, the butt-ugly building was a castle or something ¨C it was actually hard to find the differences between it, and other, equally butt-ugly, and very similar-looking buildings. Clearly, Greenskins hasn''t reached a level of evolution, where proper architecture was discovered. But hey, they loved swine, and so had to live in similar buildings, as their farm animals.


    They probably even lived with the swine in the same room, doing perverted things with them!


    Truly barbaric!


    Anyways, since it was a military compound, it was even easier to cause accidents! There were metallic implements lying around everywhere, and folks tended to randomly, and accidentally fall on them. Or the other way around.


    Of course, infiltrating a military outpost was a little bit more difficult, than doing it to some civilian¡­ swine shed. Not, that she could just teleport into, say, the basement!


    The plan, just to phase through the wall, was instantly foiled ¨C they were warded against such infiltrations. That was quite disconcerting, how could a so primitive species figure out such complicated enchantments?


    Plan F, scaling the walls, was also a no-go: the swine-lovers built, for some reason, smooth walls. It was almost like they didn¡¯t want unauthorized people getting into their¡­ ¡°castle¡±. How unaccommodating!


    Plans U, B, X, and DSCH weren''t feasible for one reason or another either.


    Luckily for her, she was a highly trained operative, who passed her infiltration course with flying colors, and as such wasn¡¯t out of ideas yet! If all of her previous plans were impossible, she would undertake a most direct approach!


    ¡°Who¡¯s there? Come in, it¡¯s open¡±


    Knocking on the main entrance was a valid possibility. What she forgot, however, was that she spoke no Greenskinian, and the moronic guards would answer her underhanded trick in their own language. Primitives, all of them! Everyone should speak Elven! She knocked again.


    ¡°I said, it¡¯s open. You can come in!¡±


    The guard started to become irritated. Good. He won¡¯t see the dagger coming! He just needed to open the gate. After a couple more knocking and irritated answers, the guard finally opened up.


    ¡°You a Treesquezer or what? Too stupid to use the handle?!? I will¡­¡±


    Shinead never found out, what the guard wanted to do (mostly because she still didn''t understand Greenskinian) ¨C he was dead before hitting the ground. It was honestly an accident! How could she have forseen, that a subelven would just walk into a dagger, heart first? Twice! And slit his own throat for added security right after on another dagger?


    Clearly, Greenskins (and other non-Elven species) never hear of or implemented proper safety regulations! They didn''t even invented an office for safety upkeep and investigation - they should follow the proper Elven way! The Domain had three such offices, and every Clan or village had to have a trained Safety Agent - well, with the Clans, those agents taught the pupils, how to circumvent the lack of safety regulations of other species, so causing accidents was more effective and believable.


    The current dead Greenskin doorstopper as example: since Greenskins lacked proper safety regulations, it was believable, that he stabbed himself on random pointy objects while running around.


    ''No one is gonna believe, that was an accident!''


    ''No one believes, the accidents are accidents at all. They are just polite and don''t mention it.''


    ''They are actually scared.''


    Clearly, the voices weren''t trained operatives, and didn''t know anything about other species. How could a carefully orchestrated accident be mistaken for anything else?!?


    With the doorman accidented away, she gained entrance to the "castle" proper. It was easier, than she thought! Now, only the rest of the "castle" stood in her way to exact revenge on them. Revenge for what, she couldn''t exactly specify, but since she was an Eternal Avenger, everything she did was for revenge. Otherwise, it would be illogical.


    Maybe she could set fire to the structure after all. There should be some combustible stuff laying around.

 Chapter 20: On the road again, Part 1

    ¡°Well, about that," Bianca said. After that interjection, Prof was fairly sure, they wouldn''t be able to leave Ostwaldland because they didn''t have traveling permits, no proper identifications for their almost-brand-new weekend vehicle, or some other harebrained other thing.


    Or the small issue, that they just have minced a respected elder functionary of the probably most important not-Guild the Greenskins had.


    No, it was most likely just some kind of bureaucratic idiocy, like back home. Open borders were just semi-permeable at the best of times, and Arkadia was Medievalia at its purest. They probably had walls, checkpoints, and toll stations on every other corner! He had some doubts about the off-road capabilities of his two-hogpower wagon. No chance to avoid taxes, tolls, and customs.


    ¡°I have decided to stay here." Bianca continued. Well, that was better, than the alternatives. But again, no self-respecting country would forgo border patrols. "Mister Wolfgang offered me a position as a general-purpose guard for his band."


    Prof thought Wolfgang was his friend, but no, he just poached the most important person of Prof''s party! How would they survive, if their trusty meatshield wasn''t there anymore to soak up damage?!? What next? Mini finding a job, washing dishes, living with half a dozen random strangers in a small flat?!? Oh, actually, Mini getting a small flat and inviting random strangers would be just in character for her.


    ¡°All right, but why?!?¡± Prof asked, trying to be friendly and not whiny. Or desperate.


    ¡°Mainly two things. Firstly, all those situations you tend to encounter are too much for me. I¡¯m just a Normal, not an Elite like you or Miss Minerva.¡±


    ¡°Sssharpclaw alsssso a Normal.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I know, but still. I would pick a battlefield before some of your ''adventures''. At least, on a battlefield, I could pull a Szent, and get away."


    ¡°And the second reason?¡±


    ¡°Miss Minerva. She¡¯s a bit hard to bear. All the scandalizing she is constantly doing is¡­ Well¡­ Not my kind of thing to watch.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m hard to stand?!?! My radiant personality is too scandalous for you?!? Pah!¡±


    Bianca just did it. You just don''t tell crazy people, you don''t like them and their exaggerated ways of presenting themselves. Not, if you don''t want to face the fallout. Like an overgrown lizard munching on your remains. While destroying all your expensive gear, so your friend wouldn''t be able to inherit.


    Not to say, Bianca was absolutely right in her analysis of Mini, and what she constantly did. Prof, on the other hand, was quite sanitized by this point ¨C mostly from his life on Earth. Growing up in Central Europe taught him how to tolerate all the other crazy people, morons, and self-declared experts in everything. All forty to fifty million of them.


    The only difference on Arkadia was, that he could point out, how good a self-declared expert he was, or how the other person wasn¡¯t. Skills were an objective and absolute thing here.


    Having around 50% in quite a few Skills entitled him to well-founded opinions, no?


    Another skill he picked up in his previous life was to tune out discussions, bickering, and problems he had absolutely no interest in participating in. A true Central European guy only meddled in other people''s lives once a day. Or when he was bored. Or when he could pose as a self-declared expert in something or other.


    ¡°¡­ pay out my share."


    That part of a sentence got his attention. Of course, Bianca wanted a piece of his hard-earned loot! The bothersome truth was, however, that she was indeed entitled to one-fifth of the loot from Dunkelwald and one-fourth of the loot since then. Subtracting the food, gear, and expenses she kept, consumed, or incurred that was still¡­ a lot of money. More, than Prof earned in a couple of years back home.


    The uncomfortable truth was, reviewing their monetary assets that they were almost broke. Again.


    Not counting all those gems and jewelry, worth more, than a small country. Or an extremely poor larger one.


    ¡°Would it be acceptable, if I pay you with the stuff still in Saugarten?" he had an Intelligence of 18, so pointing out the obvious solution was almost too easy. Paying a debt with assets you wrote off is a win-win situation for everybody! Mostly for you.


    ¡°That would amount to¡­ hmmm¡­ If you add the stuff still in the warehouse, and that awesome adventurer habit, you have a deal. I don¡¯t need so much money like you true adventurers.¡±


    Yeah, getting two hundred gold or mark was indeed almost nothing. Someone could probably survive on a paltry two million EUR for¡­ Probably forever. But then again, a boat, a sports car, and a nice house didn''t buy themselves from nothing, and then you have all those old friends, distant relatives, who just remembered, you existed and asked for a loan or something.


    Prof and Bianca shook on the deal ¨C it was Bianca''s responsibility to keep the money, after all. Luckily, Greenskins didn''t have much of a maritime tradition, and sports-hog-wagons weren''t up for sale, as far as Prof knew.


    With Mythrillhead present, Prof had a lawyer on hand and wasn''t afraid to use poor Wilhelm to get the paperwork in order. While he was almost certain, Bianca wouldn''t pull a dirty move like pocketing the stuff in Saugarten just to sue him for outstanding share, he wasn''t dumb either. Even his Character Parchment said so. While had to admit, some parts of Arkadia¡¯s rules were still a little bit foggy, not getting looted by one of your friends, you knew for a few months, was just normal survival sense!


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    With the paperwork done, signed as witnesses by everybody present, it was finally time to get on the road again. The promised paradise of nice weather, good food, and normal Human inhabitants was waiting! Since Bianca wasn''t one for hugging, they waved goodbye with only a little bit of moist eyes. Well, Mini did hug her, and Prof was certain, she also grabbed some ass.


    For good measure, she hugged everyone else too, Prof included, and definitely grabbed a lot of ass.


    With everything already packed up, and ready to go, Prof took the driver¡¯s seat, right next to Sharpclaw. Mini, for some reason, stayed on Binky.


    ¡°Say, Prof. There¡¯s one thing I wanted to ask you.¡± As usual, Mini was grinning, despite her argument with Bianca ¡°How high is your [Driving]?¡±


    ¡°29%. Why do you ask?¡±


    ¡°Oh, nothing particular. Drive on, you rascal!¡±


    For some strange, unexplainable reason, Prof started to feel dread. Driving a two-hogpower medieval RV couldn''t be so hard, no? While that accursed game rulebook had only a passing relationship with Arkadia''s reality, Prof had worked out the math for driving! As long as he kept to a low velocity, was sober, the weather was good (including the sun NOT shining), it was day, the road was good, and there wasn''t much traffic, 29% ought to be enough.


    He wasn¡¯t planning to go off-road, driving at night, or race some young idiot with a credit-bought used quadriga in the first place.


    That, and he was used to driving his old, legal-aged car with the marked deficit of power back on Earth, so the same principles probably applied to Arkadia too. Do not try to overtake anything but pedestrians. Keep a lookout for good portions of pavement between all the potholes. Give way to any and every larger vehicle, even if you don''t have to. Do the same with obviously expensive-looking ones. They won''t give way, to begin with.


    ¡°Yee-Ha!" Prof started the wagon. Or tried to. Obviously, the ages-old sound effect to get a horse-drawn carriage going didn''t work on hogs. Probably they didn''t understand Foreignian. Of course, Prof had a solution for that within moments: using the same idiom in Greenskinian. The hogs lazily turned to him, conveying a small measure of irritation. Or they thought Prof was an idiot.


    ¡°Damn it! How to start this crap?!?! Do I need to go OINK-HONK-OINK or what?!?¡±


    That was the worst thing he could have said.


    Both hogs let out a loud OINK! and they went off like a rocket. Well, since they weren''t built for speed but endurance, it was a very slow rocket, but of the kind, that will trample and eat you while still going at somewhat faster than walking speed.


    After a few corners, Prof managed to get his awesome vehicle ¨C or more precisely the hogs ¨C under control ¨C mostly because he rear-ended a larger farmer wagon, transporting hogmilk. Luckily for his monetary wellbeing, all the barrels stayed milkproof, and the damage to the rear fender (why Greenskinian wagons had rear fenders, Prof didn''t exactly want to know) was also slight, and the farmer waved Prof''s guilt away.


    Just to be on the safe side, Prof let him sign a waiver. He had a few dozen of those, courtesy of Wilhelm. It looked like the lawyer didn''t have confidence in Prof''s driving Skill.


    Why that was¡­?


    Well, the wagon ¨C without much of Prof''s contribution ¨C managed to run a booth for selling hot vegetables, damage the front fa?ade of a building (how concrete could be damaged by a wooden wagon¡­ Prof didn''t ask), bump into a couple of other carriages, bend a wooden guardrail in two and plow up a decorative flower bed. Oh, and almost got a young-looking Orc isekaied.


    It was almost like one of those overworked and underpaid Central European truck drivers, annihilating everything they found.


    To pay for those damages, he had to part with a piece of jewelry ¨C but at least the Greenskins were excellent enough to give him a little bit of change back.


    After receiving the signed waivers from everybody, a Hobgoblin approached him, clad in the typical guard uniforms of the day. Meaning, that he wasn''t wearing anything fancy or standard, but he had a badge, a helmet, and a pike, all denoting him as a man of the law.


    ¡°Dear guest! I have to congratulate you on your achievement! I haven''t seen anybody drive so badly while sober, and you set a new record for most things damaged in the shortest time. The previous record was held for almost a decade. Strangely, it was set by a Human too. Anyways, please note, that you are fined for reckless driving, and I hereby forbid you to ever again drive in a Greenskinian settlement. As soon as you have at least 66% in [Driving], you may take a test to have the restriction removed. I wouldn''t recommend driving in a settlement, every guard will know, you aren''t allowed to."


    If Prof hadn''t known better, he would have guessed, the nice guard constable had Elven blood in his veins. Only Elves fined random strangers, after all!


    There was a difference between Elves and Greenskins, though. While the former wouldn''t even bother to warn him (so other guards wouldn''t need to invent fineable offenses), the Hob even arranged for a qualified person to drive Prof''s wagon to the city limits.


    ¡°That went better than I suspected," Mini informed him after she stopped laughing.


    ¡°Wassss better!¡± Even Sharpclaw chimed in. Traitors!


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you say something? Maybe when we bought the wagon? Or before I started driving?¡± Prof felt a little bit hurt. If they knew, his driving Skills weren¡¯t so awesome as he thought, and he was a danger to everyone present, they (or rather him) could have continued walking. Less expenses!


    ¡°You were obviously having fun! I¡¯m not Cruel enough to kill other people¡¯s fun. Besides, as long as I have known you, you wanted a carriage. Oh, and your driving is fun to watch. All that mayhem! Carnage! Vehicular havoc!¡±


    ¡°Misssster intelligent. Ssssharpclaw though, Misssster knew.¡±


    Well, Mini''s answer was typical for her. In a twisted, sick, and perverted way, she actually cared. Mostly for her own amusement, but as Prof thought about their time together, she actually supported everyone to have awesome fun.


    Of course, she still got the last laugh out of every situation.


    ¡°But I did the math! I would have been able to drive through the city!¡±


    ¡°Oh, my object for lust, you still think, this is a game or some shitty story?"

 Chapter 20: On the road again, Part 2

    Of course, Prof knew that for some time already ¨C more precisely, since he arrived on Arkadia. If he were in a game or a story, he probably wouldn¡¯t have had to fight Bureaucracy every other day, but would be already Level fivezillion, most likely with awesome cheat powers, multiple harems, and would have conquered a country or two. Naturally to bring superior Earth values to the ignorant masses.


    Oh, and would have been able to drive at a high speed on congested medieval roads, despite never ever having seen a hogwagon.


    ¡°I do understand, the rulebook is for a game, but it has to be grounded in reality! I checked and re-checked, and it does have more, than a passing relationship with reality!¡±


    ¡°The reality is, Prof, that you suck at driving.¡± Mini countered ¡°29% is barely enough to keep the wagon rolling in a vaguely straight line. Like you do it right now.¡±


    Indeed, the left wheels were dangerously close to the shoulder ¨C while Greenskins had a keep-right rule. Prof corrected the direction, and almost left the road on the right side.


    ¡°See? Arkadia measures your Skills in an objective and absolute way. If you suck at something, your Character Parchment will tell you so in no uncertain way. Watch out! You almost ran poor Binky over! Having a Skill at markedly below 50% means, you suck.¡±


    ¡°But the math¡­¡±


    ¡°Shush! 54% in [Mathematics] isn''t that high either, so stop trying to calculate the fifteenth digit of Zam. You can try to bend the rules or invoke math, but if you suck, you will still suck. The game rules were made for a simulation ¨C and everyone knows, if you suck, you suck. Suck in the morning, suck in the evening, suck every time you try to drive a wagon. Talking about sucking¡­"


    ¡°NO!¡±


    ¡°Misssster watch road! No sssssucking while driving!¡±


    ¡°Can I at least say suck a few more times? The target would be forty-six times in less, than four minutes!¡±


    ¡°Why those numbers? On second thought, no. I don¡¯t wanna know!¡±


    ¡°Your loss. So back to driving!¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°Keep trying to not do it attentively! Watch me, not the road! You almost drove off the bridge! And barely missed that pedestrian! Back up, and run him over correctly!¡±


    Mini was probably the worst driving instructor in all the multiverses. She probably had immense fun, watching Prof being an awful driver. Having fun was the most important thing, wasn''t it?


    On the other hand, Prof started to have a dreadful idea: there were¡­ truckloads¡­ of stories, where the future Main Character was flattened by a passing truck. What if the bureau responsible for that kind of stuff just outsourced the driving to random Central (or Eastern) European guys? Maybe give them a teacher like Mini, and the job was done by itself.


    Anyways, driving the medieval RV was harder, than Prof thought. Especially with an absolutely terrified Kobold riding shotgun (or was it riding crossbow?), and a crazy Vampire giving constant commentary. And telling him, how much he sucked.


    It was almost like home, with his girlfriend¡¯s mother supplying the commentary. She probably would have made a splendid Vampire on Arkadia.


    Luckily, the road was almost empty all day, and the few travelers could safely ¨C and in panic ¨C clear the way for a maniac, driving a beaten-up carriage. Greenskins were excellent that way.


    Well, or they didn¡¯t want a collision to happen.


    While Prof concentrated on driving in a marginally straight line, and not hitting random obstacles on the road, like turns, bridges, trees, ditches, other travelers, or¡­ basically anything, he had to conclude one very important thing.


    He was bad at driving.


    Not the kind of driving, North-Western Europeans considered bad driving, and which was common in Central Europe, but the kind of driving even someone from the Balkans regarded as retarded. No, even those drivers would consider the thing, Prof was doing as underwhelming.


    However, his new addition to mobility was still immensely more comfortable, than walking.


    Of course, driving had its bad parts too. If a driver paid more attention to charming sights, like mountains, castles, meadows, or roadside hookers, it was almost guaranteed he rear-ended someone else. While there wasn''t much traffic (or roadside pleasure providers) on the road, Prof was still too bad at driving to split his attention. The Hogs had a will on their own and were perfectly willing to investigate interesting things (mostly food) on the roadside. Or don''t care about pedestrians or other carts.


    Anyways, Prof now had a self-propelled tent! No more camping in the open (without tents, mind you), no more sleeping on the hard ground (mostly without even bedrolls)! Just park somewhere, unhitch the hogs, give them anything organic to devour, and have a nice, relaxing night.


    It was just this, what Prof did in the evening. There wasn¡¯t even a need to post guards for the night: if some bandits managed to survive the excellent Greenskin countryside security, the party still had two carnivorous mounts and two omnivorous things, that may or may not have a relation to common swine. If anyone managed to rob them after all that, they were welcome to the loot.


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    Well, and Sharpclaw was a Light Sleeper.


    Prof was fairly certain if any bandits tried to rob the sleeping party, they would be able to improve their monetary situation by looting the corpses. The not-munched-on-remains of the corpses, anyways.


    He was actually right.


    Not in getting rich by plundering the corpses of random evil-doers ¨C those who tended to not bring their previous loot to their next heist ¨C but in no one disturbing their rest. It was somewhat strange, as far as Prof knew, that rural highways were riddled with bandits of opportunity in medieval times.


    However, neither the Elves nor the Greenskins had any problems with volunteer toll collectors. The Elves he could understand, those folks probably fined any bandit for unlawful¡­ something or other, just before and after they kicked their teeth in.


    Greenskins on the other hand¡­ Well, the social strata, which tended to pursue a career as criminals, was mostly un-excellent in Greenskinian understanding, and so were put into re-education brigades somewhere in a mine or a sewer.


    Or was gainfully employed by the Thieves¡¯ not-Guild.


    Obviously, robbing travelers on the road was also considered as being un-excellent. Who would have thought?


    In the next few days, Prof managed to get the hang of driving ¨C or more precisely, figured out the bad habits of his Hogs and how to mitigate them. At least somewhat. While he still used the whole breadth of the road (much to the chagrin of other road users), he managed to do so in a ¡­ more¡­ calculable way. No sudden swerving, changing lanes, or skidding anymore!


    Well, only once or twice every kilometer or so.


    Also, he got directions to scenic places from a very nice Greenskin Army patrol. After he almost ran the squad over and was asked a few pointed questions about his mother''s sexual preferences. And after Mini stopped laughing, Sharpclaw stopped vomiting (she somehow got motion sickness, despite it not showing up on her Character Parchment as a Perk), and the squad leader stopped chewing out the most loud- (and foul)-) mouthed grunt (obviously, it was considered un-excellent to make assumptions about the parentage of random travelers).


    At least Prof learned a few new curse words and phrases ¨C turning yellow and growing a beard were considered grave insults for some reason. ¡°Wear red on parade day¡± Prof could figure out on his own. It was very important to know the local culture!


    The patrol actually had a map with it, and with Prof¡¯s Mental Map, he was more or less good up to Ostwaldland''s Southern border. He was even able to make annotations to certain places, the patrol said were worth stopping for.


    For some strange reason, they repeated the need to stop there, not just giving a few glances while driving.


    Prof actually agreed with that. Lovely places had to be enjoyed in peace, and trying to get pedestrians out of Hogs was¡­ pieceful, and quite dirty endeavor.


    Not long after noon, they reached to first point of interest ¨C a gorge and a waterfall. Prof was used to similar places being overpopulated by hordes of tourists, all trying to get that one picture while hindering everyone else from at least seeing the sight; and of course, the strategically placed tourist traps, selling local overpriced specialties (sourced from the nearest supermarket) and souvenirs. Not to forget a booth or two, where you had to pay for parking and visiting the site. And probably the toilet.


    Nothing of the above was present at or near the outlook, Prof parked his wagon. Well, it wasn¡¯t parked at the exact place, he wanted to leave it, but the Hogs found something interesting a few dozen meters away. Prof decided, the place the Hogs found was as good as his original idea ¨C with his extremely high Agility and Dexterity walking a little bit wasn¡¯t going to kill him.


    In contrast to trying to wrangle the Hogs back where he wanted to park. Walking back took less time too.


    At least the Greenskins were excellent enough to place a table and two benches next to the best viewing point.


    The gorge itself was straight for at least half a kilometer in both directions, with smooth walls ¨C almost as if some primordial demigod decided, this was the best place to split the world in half and got bored just after the first swing. The waterfall wasn''t situated on one end of the gorge, but spilled crystal-clear water from the opposite side of the canyon, directly across the camping site.


    Despite it being early fall, the botany all around the waterfall was still of lush green, interspersed with some blues and purples, discreetly shrouded by the waterfall''s haze.


    This was what Prof wanted all the time, he spent on Arkadia: a beautiful sight, he could just sit and watch, without any urgent tasks, like finding some terrorists, who had killed off a respected Clan of xenophobic and unhinged Elves. Or bringing Mythrill to the masses. Or anything else, he was doing the past months.


    After the small meadow by his first dungeon and maybe the mountain over Deadbranch, this was the first time, he could lay back, and be filled up with¡­ energy? Peace? Content?


    He took a sip from a jug of beer, he brought just for this.


    ¡°Missssster! NO!¡±


    ¡°What it is, Sharpclaw? Danger?¡±


    ¡°Misssster drivesss crazzzzy even sssssober! No drinksssss!¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on, little one! What could possibly go wrong?¡± at least Mini was on his side! Not, that the constabulary was waiting in the bushes with a breathalyzer! And everyone on the road already evaded him by a large margin.


    Well, and he doubted very much, the Greenskins had any rules against driving under the influence. If he was still in the Domain, it would be another thing ¨C those Elves would probably fine him for a busted taillight or a too-old medical kit. The wagon didn''t have either¡­


    So, if something wasn¡¯t forbidden, it was legal to do it, no matter how moronic it was, right?


    Especially, if it could be considered fun, no?


    Prof realized Mini started to rub off on him ¨C that way lay madness. With a heavy heart, he replaced the jug and drank a small amount of anti-poison potion just to be sure. With his poison-neutralizing trinket, he was on the safe side anyway, but it certainly wasn''t a bad idea.


    Glancing back at the gorge, he regretted, he still wasn¡¯t able to put Skill Point into making famous paintings.

 Chapter 20: On the road again, Part 3

    His two Hogs ¨C Prof decided to name them Sausage and Bacon ¨C were busy digging up the roadside and eating some kind of mushroom. Just out of curiosity, Prof took a look at the earth-brown small things. Actually, his vast knowledge about [Herbology] and [Alchemy] (both at a whopping 70% or so) triggered, and he just knew, the shrooms were called Booze Fungus, and it was possible to make anti-poison potions out of them. Or drugs and booze.


    Of course, most people processed them into happy-making stuff. It was probably more¡­ profitable that way.


    What would happen, if two huge Hogs with enormous Endurance ate a lot of mushrooms, that were wildly known to make you happily drunk? Or high? Probably nothing, right?


    Well, not exactly. If Elephants could manage to get stiff drunk from eating overripe fruit, majestic hogs could do the same with dedicated mushrooms. The two Hogs may or may not heard about the challenge, but decided to participate either way.


    They not only completed it but overachieved the goals in a spectacular way.


    Sausage was just standing with a goofy grin on its face (how a multiple hundred-kilo Hog managed to look like a demented piggy from Mousecorp¡­ No, Prof didn''t want to go there), slightly swaying, and participated in Ardakia''s version of climate change with generous clouds of methane. Bacon managed a few steps, before falling over, snoring.


    Barely a day on the road, and Prof''s extremely advanced vehicle had already broken down due to engine trouble. It was fantastic! On Earth, it was possible to get the wrong fuel into the tank, but as the example showed, it was possible on Arkadia too!


    Well, he probably should have put a few Skill Points into [Animal Handling] or [Animal Husbandry], but with how few Skill Points he got for the few Level Ups in the last few months, it was understandable, that he had to bolster other, more important Skills first.


    Not.


    While Prof was very good at a few things (killing and looting stuff, and knowing, how much the looted stuff was worth), he was more or less useless in a lot of other things. Not just the smelly and hard profession of digging soil (either above or below ground), but¡­ well¡­ almost everything.


    Repairing stuff? Setting or finding traps? Sneaking around? Opening locked locks? Investigating? Tending to livestock? Driving? All things, he would (or should) pay someone else to do.


    While Sharpclaw could solve some issues, like¡­ folks not having enough sharp pieces of metal in their backs, there still was a marked Skill-deficit in the party in certain areas. For example [Cooking] ¨C Prof already dreaded the month-long track, eating only camp rations ¨C or, say, not moving a hogwagon along in a way, that almost guaranteed to terrorize other participants.


    Or explain to Hogs, that they shouldn''t eat funny shrooms.


    With having no other choice, but to make camp until the Hogs sobered up, Prof made it back to the overlook. He took a seat and started to sketch the view ¨C months ago, he got the impression, that practicing on his own could net him a few Skill Points. He already had a full notebook with drawings ¨C even he would peg them as¡­ crude. Mini called them interesting and funny torture devices and a crime against Undeadity (or Humanity, Elvenkind, Greenskins, Reptilians, and any other sapient species) after she stopped laughing and asked for a few of them.


    As for Skill Points, he indeed got some. Two, to be precise.


    If he didn''t throw a few Levels worth at the problem, it would probably take a few years till he reached a level, that was above cave paintings or the average grade-schooler. Weren''t Systems designed to allow everyone to excel in even the most obscure fields just by existing?!?


    Certainly not on Arkadia.


    The local Administrator obviously believed in rewarding effort, liked realism, and was ¨C in Prof¡¯s opinion ¨C an utter moron.


    After an hour of fruitlessly trying to capture the natural beauty, Prof was approached by Mini.


    ¡°Oh, now you draw porn?" she asked while looking at his newest picture.


    ¡°It¡¯s the gorge with the waterfall and the bushes, not porn!¡±


    ¡°Sure, sure. But looking at it from here, there is quite a similarity to¡­¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t say it!¡± Prof interrupted. However, after having it pointed out, he had to concede, the drawing could indeed be misunderstood for something else. He tore the page out quickly, to be burned at the earliest possible instance.


    ¡°Anyways, the Hogs sobered up enough to only sway slightly. We are good to go!" Mini informed him. Prof wasn''t exactly sure, driving with Hogs under the influence was exactly a good idea, but on the other hand, keeping a straight line was already almost impossible. So, probably nothing major would be different.


    He was wrong.


    For some fluke of the System, Arkadia, or Hog physiology, Prof actually could keep the line, without the driving force behind the wagon wanting to go place. Ehmm¡­ other places than Prof wanted.


    That went well for an hour or two, but from one minute to another, the Hogs went from ¡°slightly drunk¡± to ¡°massively hung over¡±. Keeping them under control was still easy, but the velocity fell even further. An elderly Greenskin woman even overtook them. On foot.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    ¡°Hey, Prof! I have a fantastic idea!¡± That wasn¡¯t a¡­ comforting prospect. Did she want to organize an orgy in the middle of nowhere? Kill something, because she was bored? Did she want a mirror to look at her magnificent self?


    ¡°Feed the Hogs more mushrooms! Or let them drink your booze!¡±


    ¡°NO!!! Why would I do that?!?¡±


    ¡°Cause you could control the Hogs better when they are drunk?"


    ¡°I get that. I meant my booze! This is good stuff, not the swill I¡¯ve got from the Elves!¡±


    ¡°Oh, that I can understand. That paprika-stuff is actually quite good. Hmmm¡­ That leaves the shrooms. Get your shovel and start digging!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s quite close to [Agriculture]. You know, I¡¯m not exactly good with that.¡±


    ¡°Digging up fungi isn''t [Agriculture]! I think it''s [Herbology] or [Wilderness Survival]. Or [Gathering]. And if you use the shovel as a weapon [Polearms] or [Makeshift Weapons]. One or the other. I don''t think, anyone would use a shovel as a weapon."


    ¡°You know, these short shovels back home were excellent close-combat weapons¡­¡±


    ¡°Daggerssss better weaponssss.¡±


    ¡°But the tools could be used as axes, hammers, oars, or even frying pans!"


    ¡°Can ssstab well?¡±


    ¡°Well, not exactly¡­¡±


    ¡°Sssssee? Daggerssss better!¡±


    Sharpclaw was obviously right. A thingy, that was purpose-built for stabbing folks in the back was immensely better at doing that than a common tool. Prof had to concede the point, even if he felt, multiple uses for the same tool was a better choice. Besides stabbing, what were daggers good for? Not overly much.


    Prof parked the wagon at the side of the road and started looking for Booze Fungus. After another hour, of pocking around in the underbrush, he was fed up with the whole quest. He did find a few edible mushrooms, some fruit, and a discarded kettle with a hole in the bottom, but no shrooms to fuel the Hogs.


    ¡°Come on! Give the Hogs booze!¡± Mini urged.


    ¡°Definitely not! Wait a minute! You had fun watching me drive, why the sudden interest in quick and straight travel?¡±


    ¡°You bumbling along was fun for a time, but it starts to get boring. If the Hogs are drunk, we could quickly reach some sort of civilization, where I can have a snack and have fun.¡±


    Of course, the resident Vampire wanted to have a ¡°snack¡± and ¡°have fun¡± ¨C what else could it have been? Her taking pity on Prof for his non-existent Skills, or worrying for innocent random travelers on the road?


    However, Prof put down his foot. No Hog would drink his expensive and excellent booze, even if that added extra traveling time and significant danger to random strangers.


    The issue solved itself by nightfall ¨C as every problem did if ignored long enough. They found a small village not far from the main road, and small villages out in the boonies everywhere in all the multiverses were known for a few things. Namely, kids, whose parents were close relatives, general distrust towards strangers, unmarked graves for sassy (or richer-than-the-locals) strangers, and finally, cheap booze.


    ¡°How can this humble village help you?" a local Hob asked them. Prof pegged him ¨C based on his slightly better clothes ¨C as some kind of leader. Since everywhere in Greenskin lands, there were three leaders for everything, he was probably either the Chief, the General, or the President. Or, since it was a small village, the Chiefling, Corporal, or Major.


    ¡°Dear Village Co-Leader¡± Prof started to flex his Gentleman muscles. Co-Leader was the polite address, if the exact function wasn¡¯t known ¡°We would like to acquire a few kegs of your excellent alcohol. The cheapest one.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I see.¡± the Co-Leader answered. Prof may or may not have imagined him eyeing an empty plot of land, the right size for a random unmarked grave.


    ¡°Would it be possible? We would be on our way."


    ¡°It certainly would be possible! It wouldn¡¯t be excellent, not to engage in commerce with strangers, just because they are Pinkskins or Reptiles!¡±


    ¡°Or technically dead!¡± Mini clarified.


    ¡°Or undead, naturally. I have a cousin, who is undead too, we certainly don''t have anything against undead!" Well, magical weapons didn''t grow on trees, so the locals most certainly had nothing against the undead.


    ¡°That is comforting. I wouldn''t have thought, excellent Greenskins would participate in Speciesism!" Prof continued to be polite. Be polite in the morning, and you won''t get poison into your lunch, as the saying goes.


    ¡°Save for those red-wearing Treehuggers!¡± the Co-Leader clarified. Prof could get behind that statement. Elves were most certainly un-excellent. Pay fines and taxes! Piss off, or we kick you in the teeth! Bureaucracy! At least they had non-ugly architecture¡­


    ¡°That is, it would be un-excellent to send strangers out into the night! Come! Let¡¯s share a meal and drinks! We can discuss trading later!¡±


    Random villagers out in the boonies inviting you to eat and drink at their expense, while they may or may not be eyeing strategically placed shovels, should constitute red flags¡­ no. Red banners, you won''t even see on communist rallies!


    Prof wasn¡¯t overly concerned, though. They were marginally almost-trained apprentice adventurers (with Mini being a marginally well-trained master), so they probably could depopulate the whole village, if it came to fighting. Also, poison wasn¡¯t a danger either. Mini was immune to everything (that included, to her chagrin, booze), and Prof had quite a high Poison Resistance - plus his anti-poison trinket. And Sharpclaw didn¡¯t drink.


    The villagers were real Greenskins, and so excellent hosts. It wouldn¡¯t be excellent to invite someone to their funeral and then only serve scraps! Of course, they wouldn¡¯t feed the choicest and last pieces of their meager pantry (winter was coming, after all), but Prof found the spicy chicken soup and piping hot dog steaks with sharp paprika as a side dish quite tasty. The paprika booze was even more excellent ¨C the hottest version, he had the fortune of tasting. The eating music, however, was¡­ lackluster. Prof got used to the excellent musicians in the big cities, foremost Mythrillhead. A small village simply couldn¡¯t compete.


    All the locals wanted in return was gossip. Without an established news network to dispense tightly curated and carefully phrased information, the best source for any news was random travelers.


    As the night progressed and the booze flowed, Prof told about the latest slime campaign, the upheaval because of the new music, and even some prices and general gossip, he picked up.


    Close to midnight, the Co-Leader got up from the table.


    ¡°All right, let me get a shovel.¡±

 Chapter 20: On the road again, Part 4

    What do you do, if you are out of nowhere, drunk, you are certain, no one would miss you, and your host just left the building to get a shovel?


    In a lot of stories Prof read, this was exactly the situation, where the Main Character defeated a nefarious cult or mass murderers, posing as nice and excellent villagers. And found closely guarded riches or overpowered magical stuff. Random Encounters didn''t wait for anyone!


    Prof and his party weren''t exactly stupid, and had already prepared for the worst to come: Sharpclaw was slinking somewhere in the shadows, while Mini was blissfully asleep in the arms of some of the Co-Leader''s cousins. Ehmmm¡­ Mini pretended to be asleep while keeping hostages close to her chest! The hands still groping her¡­ chest¡­ was a surefire way to get the unknowing hostages off-balance! Absolutely!


    Prof himself was sitting at attention at the table, slightly swaying to throw the aim of any would-be sniper off. His swaying had nothing to do with the copious amount of booze he consumed while impersonating a news anchor.


    The Hogs, Sleepy, and Binky probably did what they usually did: standing around somewhere bored or munching on something or other. Hopefully, not on Greenskins.


    All the preparation the party did to fend off the evil cultists or sneaky villagers out to get rich and cull the number of moronic travelers was for naught in the end.


    Not because the villagers sprang a convoluted, nefarious trap, but because they were Greenskins. Putting random strangers into an early, unmarked grave was most likely un-excellent, and so wasn¡¯t done by excellent folks.


    The shovel was actually needed to open the basement ¨C obviously, the hinges were rusted closed, and no one had a high enough Skill in [De-rust: Hinges] or [Something similar]. Or no one cared enough to spend hours on their knees to scrape away the rust if a quick application of a shovel could open the trapdoor anyway.


    Folks were the same anywhere in all the multiverses, no matter the skin color or the species: if something still worked more-or-less, why make the effort?


    Of course, that attitude made more broken-down countries possible. Or the occasional collapsed bridge, the blown nuclear plants, and social unrest. Living in a perfect world, where the broken main waterline beneath the only transit road for a couple of dozen kilometers was repaired within a day ¨C and not, say, almost two weeks ¨C would be boring.


    With the basement open, it was time for some hard-fought battle of commerce! Pitting Skills against Skills, finding an unorthodox opening for a seldom-used Skill, or squeezing out the last drops of an obscure Perk! Fighting till the last iron bit! Or for.


    Prof drowned a fortifying potion, so he wouldn¡¯t be declassed in the upcoming battle ¨C sobering up was very important, when it was about money!


    He shouldn''t have been afraid of being out-commerced, anyway. Fleecing drunkards obviously wasn''t considered being excellent, or the Co-Leader wasn''t the best merchant, to begin with. Another possibility was, that Prof''s Gentleman Perk finally worked as intended (and he wasn¡¯t surprised from behind by Parvenu), and the locals felt friendly towards him.


    That even included asking for a most excellent price for the goods Prof wanted to buy.


    A twenty-five-liter barrel of barely potable booze to fuel the Hogs, a few sealed jugs with that hot paprika booze, some dried small paprika as spices, and some this and that (if Prof could stock up on food, that reminded him of Earth, he certainly would) came up to barely two silver schillings. The Hog-fuel was actually used to remove paint by the locals, but filling it into the Hogs would be possible. They had a very high Endurance and Vitality, so liver failure was out of the question. Probably.


    What could possibly go wrong, after all?


    Well, the next day Prof found out, that fueling Hogs with cheap booze not only started their engines but also revved up the exhaust.


    ¡°Misssster! Missster! Ssssharpclaw wantssss to walk!¡±


    The Kobold had something right with that sentiment ¨C sitting not far behind the exhaust of two enormous Hogs, working very hard on producing the fantasy equivalent of methane (which was most likely just methane), was not exactly a comfortable position to be.


    At least keeping the drunken Hogs under control was much easier and the speed, they were traveling was higher too. Well, and they didn''t cause heart failure ¨C or property damage ¨C to others on the road. Next to their need for speed to reach the promised land of eternal nice weather in time, their need to conserve their finances was also of utmost importance. A few million wouldn''t last long if they (meaning Prof) would need to pay for damages caused.


    Wagon insurance wasn¡¯t invented on Arkadia yet.


    Not, that any insurance would be willing to make a contract with Prof ¨C he was just a catastrophic driver. Getting a driving license would be impossible for him. At least, if he didn¡¯t do the time-honored thing of bribing the supervisor. With the Greenskins he could probably even write the bribe off his taxes.


    But then again, he was an adventurer and had tax exemption!


    Arkadia was fantastic! No overinflated paperwork, permits, licenses, speed traps, highway rules, or taxes!


    It was almost like home but without the constant need for bribing officials and getting his money off-shore. Not, that he ever did either of the two, he wasn''t rich back home, so the rules were to be followed to the letter.


    By the time they reached the next notable sight ¨C a monument to a battle or other ¨C Prof was slightly green from methane poisoning. He debated for some time already, if Greenskins were green because of the constant exposure to hogs, pigs, and swine, but concluded, that the species would most likely not sit right behind an industrial-grade source of¡­ exhaust gasses.


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    ¡°It''s a sword," Mini stated while observing the monument


    ¡°Issss no ssssword. Issss broken pole.¡± Sharpclaw added from a slightly different point of view.


    ¡°Oh, you are right. Let¡¯s see¡­ From here, it¡¯s an arrow. And from here a cavalry charge.¡± Mini walked around the monument, commenting.


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s an excellent depiction of a multi-disciplinary image of the Battle of Stallion Head, made by the most excellent honored Redcap Erl?ser Dahlienpflanzer, utilizing the newest space-bending and wrapping techniques in novel ways.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Dunno. I don¡¯t understand half of the words myself. But this is what the guide says right here.¡±


    ¡°So, in your own words, what is this supposed to be?¡±


    ¡°All in all, I would say, it''s modern art," Prof concluded. Even Arkadia was not safe from modern art, it seemed. For some reason, he expected the whole world to be filled with antique or medieval-lookalike art, but obviously, the locals had ideas on their own. Greenskins in particular had a certain¡­ realistic¡­ approach to monuments and decorations.


    Prof should have been acclimatized to this, with every monument to a Meeting Place was either an arrow pointing down, an X, or ¨C in the case of Sumpfigerort''s main square ¨C a sundial. Even the latter wasn''t technically abstract art, but a repurposed monument to a sundial. Not to even mention the Greenskin building''s "decorations".


    Tympanums and columns did have a limit, where they looked good ¨C Greenskins stepped over that border with utter confidence and annihilated every opposition.


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m so sorry¡­ What about this battle? Anything fun?¡±


    That was actually a very good question. Neither of them had any Skill Points in [History: Greenskinian] or any other social Skill to speak of, but Prof at least had an answer to the question. He just needed to dig up his introductory history book (it was written for kids, but was cheap to buy) and found the correct entry quite easily.


    ¡°Soooo¡­ After the death of the honored Redcap Grand Chief Stefan Gerstensohn, his evil son-in-law conspired against all the traditions of Greenskin, going as far as to enlist the help of wicked and depraved Treesquezers! He was prepared to overthrow the most excellent Greenskin way to govern themselves and wanted to appoint himself the sole grand chief. Gerstensohn''s cousin, however¡­"


    ¡°Skip the boring infodump! Let''s get to the part, where body parts start flying!" Mini interrupted his lecture on a very important point of Greenskin history.


    ¡°This is a history book for kids, not some adventure novel! There isn¡¯t blood spurting from severed limbs!¡±


    ¡°No sex either?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Boooooooring!¡±


    ¡°Coussssin won?¡± At least Sharpclaw was interested.


    ¡°No, he died after fleeing the lost battle and got killed by villagers.¡±


    ¡°Did he get feisty or insulted someone''s Hog?" That at least woke Mini''s interest


    ¡°Actually no. He fled to the village of his enemy.¡±


    ¡°What an idiot¡­¡±


    With that dispensed profound wisdom they got on the way again. After only a few minutes, they had to stop again; Prof had to refill the Hogs.


    According to his map and estimations, they were still almost a week away from the Southern border. The road, Prof wanted to take curved away from the main trading route; while shorter it entered a mountain range and missed most of the larger settlements, both in Ostwaldland and its Southern neighbor. The real reason to take the shorter road wasn¡¯t time saved time ¨C entering the mountains would cost them about the time, they would save because of the shorter distance ¨C but sightseeing.


    Prof was assured, the mountains were a beautiful sight, full of picturesque ruins, pretty little villages, lovely waterfalls, and notable sites. Those were mostly commemorating battles, and a few burial grounds for notable people. Some were allegedly not even plundered!


    Their next few stops were¡­


    ¡°It¡¯s a tree!¡±


    ¡°But it has cultural significance and looks actually nice!"


    ¡°Boooooring!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a lake!¡±


    ¡°Nissssse Lake! Ssssharpclaw sssswim!"


    ¡°Boooooring!¡±


    ¡°Seriously?!? This is just a hut! A boooooring hut!¡±


    ¡°We aren¡¯t here for the hut. We are here for the ruins behind the hut!¡±


    ¡°Do they have undead?¡±


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t think they do.¡±


    ¡°Is there an orgy planned to happen there?¡±


    ¡°No¡­?¡±


    ¡°Booooooring!¡±


    ¡°A forest¡­ Yeah, we haven¡¯t seen a forest yet. You know, that I grew up in a place called Forestdeep?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but this forest has unusual rock formations, breathtaking meadows, and even a few awesome canyons too!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you say! Sharpclaw, what do we say?¡±


    ¡°Boooooring!¡±


    ¡°Hey, Prof, look! Another picturesque Greenskin village! Who would have thought?¡±


    ¡°Hey! This one actually looks marginally charming, with being built this way on the hill! It''s different than the last two!"


    ¡°Wassss sssssree¡­¡±


    ¡°It has even a statue on the main square! Come on girls! Where is your sense of adventure?¡±


    ¡°Died because of boredom. Not even the best necromancer could revive it by this point.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm¡­ I think the next town has a house for pleasure providers¡­"


    ¡°REALLY?!?! ONWARDS TO ADVENTURE!¡±


    ¡°Sure, but we have one last stop before that.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on! Will be at least quick?¡±

 Chapter 20: On the road again, Part 5

    "A mountain. You want to climb a mountain. Why?" Mini asked, obviously being confused, why someone would want to climb a mountain. Folks in medieval times probably didn''t have time or the inclination to do such things just because they could.


    "Because it''s there. Also, it is said, that the view is extremely beautiful, and there is even a very nice ruin halfway up. A precursor ruin! Almost not ruined!"


    "Oh, that would make the stop an interesting one. NOT."


    "What would be more awesome, than what this mountain could provide? Oh no¡­" Prof should have already learned, not to ask Mini such questions ¨C he knew very well, what the answer would be.


    "A fantastic orgy, riots, carnage, drinking, and of course, all these at the same time! I''m a city girl, not built for hiking up mountains. This isn''t fun!"


    "How large is your ''city'' back home, again?"


    "Around two thousand. But you don''t get the point! It has two thousand inhabitants more than this stupid mountain! It''s a huge center for civilization! It even has a few paved roads, not just goat trails!"


    "But your village doesn''t have almost not ruined ruins! Hah!"


    "It''s a town, not a village. And it has a very nice ruined castle! One of the previous dukes built it, saying, every proper Vampire territory has to have a ruined castle! It''s a bit drafty, and we can''t use it when it''s raining, but it has a very nice crypt. We even have a Ghost as a caretaker!"


    "Let me guess, every proper ruined castle has to have a ghost in it?"


    "No. He has a very good Skill-set for taking care of an artfully ruined castle. It was either him or an Ogre. The latter simply didn''t fit through the doors."


    "Sounds logical¡­ Anyways, the mountain. You don''t want to hike?"


    "No way! Have ''fun''!"


    "Sharpclaw?"


    "Not interesssssted! Mountain high! Ssssharpclaw don''t likesssss high placesssss."


    Prof was on his own to conquer the mountain! Just like Hillary for the Mont Blanc, Amundsen for the Northwest Passage, or the guy, who conquered the Everest. Messner, probably. Of course, all those explorers had an army of servants at their call to do the actual heavy lifting, but they had a harder job to do too. Entering the unknown, looking for something else before finding the thing, that made them famous ¨C all without the possibility of immediate evacuation by air! Or even cell phones and the internet!


    Compared to them, Prof had it easier: the mountain was barely three thousand meters high, and according to his guide, the goat trails reached almost to the summit. There were even a few rest stops, built by the Greenskins. Excellent as they were¡­


    But then again, the trail to the dungeon above Deadbranch also had a few constructed stops, so maybe Arkadian was indeed into hiking.


    Well, since self-propelled carriages weren''t invented yet, and one had to get Hogs drunk, so they maintained their lanes, hiking was the thing. One wanted to get cheese from the grocery store? Hiking! One wanted to visit relatives in the next village? Hiking! Getting some business sorted out in a different country? Hiking! Visit some all-inclusive hotel on the seaside for holidays? No, no hiking. Very few had the means and the time for a holiday in the first place.


    Almost like on Earth.


    But, what Prof was attempting, was still a first: he was probably the first Earth Human to conquer the mountain!


    That he knew of, at least.


    Trying to conquer a huge mountain on his own wasn''t necessarily the best idea someone in all the multiverses had ¨C after all, the news back home was full of guys, who died on this mountain or that, and there were some historical anecdotes too! Livingstone on the Kilimanjaro, Franklin on Elbrus (or was it Terror?), Magellan on Mauna Kea ¨C or look at Pompei: the mountain even came for a house call!


    Prof wasn''t exactly good at names to begin with, but he had the creeping suspicion, that some details started to fade away. For example, he couldn''t recall the exact date, when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor.


    On the other hand, most of the names and places could be searched on the ''net back home, there was no need to burden the memory with random clutter to begin with.


    Anyways, all those famous explorers became famous by dying somewhere on a remote island or an unknown mountain, not by disappearing on a barely three thousand-meter hill not far away from civilization. All right, they may or may not have been eaten by the locals or their "friends", but the only one, who probably would eat Prof was Mini ¨C and she most likely would keep him as an emergency ration till the last moment.


    Probably.


    Hopefully.


    As Prof set out to climb the mountain, the unmistakable sound effects of Mini having fun with her favorite loot from the Valley reached him. Good for her. As long as she occupied herself with harmless pastimes, the less likely she would get bored and start to do things, only she would classify as "fun".


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    The first leg of the hike was actually on a fairly good (for medieval times, that is) dirt track, leading up to a small hamlet. Theoretically, Prof could have driven right up to the settlement, but everyone knows, the start of a hiking trail isn''t the last parking lot, but the place commonly agreed to be it. Which may or may not be the last parking lot.


    Also, leaving a bored Vampire in a defenseless settlement wasn''t exactly a bright idea ¨C Prof was intelligent enough to figure that out on his own. There were¡­ patterns¡­ he noticed.


    He sometimes asked himself, why he put up with Mini''s antics for so long.


    Oh yeah, she didn''t want to kill or enslave him, was actually a fun person to have around (when she wasn''t bored or got crazy), hadn''t bailed on him yet, and having her around enhanced Prof''s chances to survive till he got rich and toured the world. Also, getting Mini to do something, Mini didn''t want to do (like, for example, getting her to go away), was a futile endeavor.


    The hamlet in question could have been described as "picturesque" - if someone added a few centuries of development, good marketing, and the willingness of the locals to turn it into one of the renowned tourist traps. Not to forget, hand it over to any species, that wasn''t Greenskins, and thought, bunkers with columns and tympanums weren''t the peak of architecture.


    In the current state, it was just any Central European village out of nowhere, without any perspective, industry, or proper agriculture.


    It even had the stray dogs of unknown make and type ¨C the only difference was, that here, the locals tried to catch the dogs. Prof suspected, they escaped the pens, where they were kept as meat animals ¨C with pigs definitely not on the menu anywhere in Greenskin lands, something had to stand in. Well, poultry is almost vegetables, so the next best thing was probably dogs.


    There was probably still some kind of agricultural work to be done since quite a few Greenskins were leaning against their shovels, right next to empty plots of land, eyeing Prof attentively. Or all of them had rusted-close cellar doors and waited for Prof to be introduced to their wares.


    Either way, Prof just smiled and waved in to most friendly way he was able, and sped off in the direction of the mountain. Explorations to notable sights waited for no one!


    Walking along a mountain trail in the fall, without the constant nagging of his companions or pressing, world-changing events hanging above his head was relaxing, for once. Trees in full autumn colors ¨C mostly yellow, but here and there brown, red, and purple ¨C and complete silence. Well, silence, if one didn''t count the rustling of the wind, calls of birds of prey, and dead shrieks of random animals, currently being eaten by predators, or falling down some cliff face.


    At least Prof assumed, the sound effects belonged to those activities, and not to, say, mating, or collecting pals to attack a lonely Human hiker. Maybe he should put a few Skill Points into [Zoology] and [Monsterology]. And, since Arkadia was a fantasy world, maybe into the Skill that informed him about the behavior of plants too¡­ Maybe there were carnivorous, mobile, or semi-mobile plants out there, just waiting for an ignorant Central European guy to walk into their maws!


    If Earth had such things (Prof was almost certain, there were), and Earth game developers could come up with a few (which they definitely did), there was no chance, Arkadia didn''t have them. The Administrator seemed to collect strange stuff from all over the multiverses.


    By the time he reached the almost not completely ruined precursor ruins, he had to realize two things. First, while his boots were excellent for walking around, they weren''t the best for hiking up a mountain on goat trails. While he wasn''t the most proficient hiker back on Earth, he knew, even the worst hiking boots from a discounter had these thingies on the soles, which made the boots'' grip better on uneven ground. Like slightly damp boulders on a mountain face.


    His high-class, very expensive medieval infantry boots had only a loose approximation of those.


    The second thing was that a Skill, called [Climbing] was actually not just for show, and helped immensely with things like, say, climbing a mountain. While Prof had 72% in that Skill, it mostly informed him, not to try to leave the goat trail.


    Prof missed the rudimentary prepared hiking trails from back home. Almost intact ruins on a beautiful mountainside would have been a prime tourist destination, including entry fees and¡­


    Well, all right, the medieval version was much better and less congested.


    The ruins were actually quite picturesque and would have made for nice postcards, pictures, and overpriced knick-knacks for tourists. Snuggled between a sheer cliff on one side and a probably once nice and cobbled plaza, it gave a nice contrast to the blue sky beyond.


    Well, currently gray and cloudy background, but the thought was what counted.


    From the architectural point of view, it probably once was a palace, an important governmental building ¨C or, if Arkadia had gods, a cathedral ¨C, built out of basalt or a similar stone (on a limestone mountain!), and it somewhat reminded Prof of that famous place in Vietnam ¨C Angkor or what was its name. It had these conical towers, a lot more steps, than a building of its size should have, and richly decorated facades ¨C well, one of the towers had fallen off the cliff, another lost half of its volume, leaving only three marginally intact, the decorations deteriorated at some point in the last couple of millennia, and most of the roof was gone too.


    Those precursor folks could build, no question about that! Not like those modern Human, Elven, or Greenskinian buildings! Prof was glad to have made the hike up there. Getting reincarnated into a different world, and just killing stuff would have been such a waste! One had to appreciate the local cuisine, architecture, culture, and sights ¨C or else it was like going to France or Italy and dining at a fast food joint, and not even visit the Pyramids or Stonehenge or that Mousecorp castle!


    Prof was reasonably sure, he got the countries right ¨C the fading details were, however, a little bit concerning.


    Walking around the ruins, he noticed, it was still inhabited. No wonder there, marginally habitable places were rarely left unoccupied for long, and especially not in medieval times. If it wasn''t random hobos declaring them their new home, it was bandits or cults, who killed the hobos off and declared the site as their new base of operation.


    It was also possible, the local nobles or the army found the places ideal for outposts, so they could hunt bandits and cults. According to lore, abandoned places were the prime location for hermits, wise men, or teachers, just waiting for main characters to teach them restricted, forgotten, or novel techniques.


    Sometimes, very rarely, ruins were even occupied by honest and hardworking shepherds, who didn''t want to make the trip back to their village every day, all the while directing their dumb animals along barely traversable trails.


    After all, why do all the leg-work, if there was an ancient palace just sitting there on prime real estate, halfway up the mountain?


    To Prof''s utter bafflement, he did not find hobos, bandits, cults, nobles (he wasn''t exactly sure even after all the time with the Greenskins if they had nobles or the Redcaps were considered as such), the Army, or some profound hermit.


    "Oy, there! Don''t touch my goats! Do you want to buy goat milk or cheese? I have a fresh batch ready!"

 Chapter 20: On The Road Again, Part 6

    Well, a cheese-seller, right next to a tourist destination could be called a bandit after all ¨C even if tourists and tourist traps weren''t invented on Arkadia yet. The dirty-looking Goblin, standing in between a herd of blankly staring mountain goats (Prof wasn''t exactly sure, if they could be called Mountain Dire Goats or not, but they had horns at least), didn''t help with the not-bandit feel of the situation either.


    Prof at least hoped the Goblin had pants on¡­


    Transforming a palace of untold age and profound cultural relevance to an extinct species into a shed for goats was strange, but not unheard of. Where once dignitaries dined, schemed, and fornicated now goats laid their berries, and the once impressive carvings of folks doing important-looking stuff were now used to dry clothes or fix dividers onto. Prof tried to make out, what kind of species the builders were, but every last carving was weathered into being unrecognizable. He could only determine, the precursor species was most likely bipedal.


    Or had bipedal pets, they thought cute enough to make carvings of.


    It was possible, that Prof was looking at the pre-medieval version of cat memes.


    "One kilogram of basic goat cheese would be for thirty groschen, these flavored ones are for forty, and the extra spicy ones for fifty. I have soft and semi-soft of each." Prof was interrupted in his musings, how past glory could fall by the Goblin''s urgent need to do commerce.


    "Hmmmm¡­ The extra spicy looks good, what are the other flavors?" goat cheese wasn''t Prof''s favorite, but the price was actually quite good to make a pass on the purchase. Besides, buying unregulated, untested, and uninspected food from a random goatherd secluded in the mountains was safe, no? What could probably go wrong? He had high poison resistance!


    "Basil, garlic, dill, marjoram, and rosemary-basil-garlic. Everything collected on the mountain!"


    "Would it be possible to get a taster of the garlic and the mixed one? Semi-soft, if possible."


    "Of course, selling without a taster wouldn''t be excellent, wouldn''t it?"


    If there was one thing, Prof would miss in Greenskin lands where the locals drive to be excellent. Where telling someone, he wasn''t excellent was one of the gravest insults, leaving even a shred of doubt in one''s excellence was unthinkable. No cut-throat swindlers, crooks, or lawyers anywhere! Well, there were lawyers, but those had to be certified by the Thieves'' not-Guild and had to follow the rules, so they were mostly tolerable.


    "This is fantastic!" the cheese was indeed the best, Prof ever tasted ¨C both back on Earth and on Arkadia. Of course, on Earth, he didn''t have the money to buy gourmet food and had to satisfy himself with the cheaper stuff. On Arkadia, he mostly didn''t have the money either or didn''t want to fork out the extra funds for the high-class food. Even after he was informed, the good food gave nice bonuses.


    "I would hope so! I have 450% in [Cheesemaking], and the milk comes from a rare breed of Southern Dread Ibex!" to Prof''s complete and utter surprise, the ruins harbored a hidden grandmaster, after all. After completing a long and arduous quest chain, Prof would have access to the most precious hidden knowledge ¨C for making cheese. Prof wasn''t interested in either the long quest chain or becoming an expert in converting liquid animal sweat into solid animal sweat.


    "450%? How come, you are living here in the mountains? With a high Level Skill like that, you could make a fortune in any city, and buy a luxury mountain retreat!"


    "So, I should move to the city, work myself to the bone, so I could buy a nice home in the mountains, and enjoy my retirement in peace?"


    "Exactly! Oh, wait¡­"


    "Yeah, you aren''t so dumb for a Pinkskin. Besides, I own half the mountain, and the Southern tower was renovated a hundred years ago."


    Well, Prof should have seen that coming. Retired grandmasters usually were rich, and didn''t need the advice of random tramps. Even if the random tramps were extremely rich themselves. Rich in the sense, that they had a lot of shiny pebbles, they couldn''t sell.


    In the end, Prof purchased a dozen wheels, deciding, grandmaster-made cheese for that price was a bargain. Looking at his purchase, he realized, he should have made the transaction on the way back, not while he still had a lot of climbing ahead. His Stats made him a world-class athlete in Earth terms, but lugging a dozen kilos of stuff uphill was still not a bright idea.


    "Ehmm¡­ Dear grandmaster of dairy production, would it be possible to store the cheese here for a time? I''m still on the way to the summit¡­"


    "Why do you want to go to the summit?" the Goblin looked quite perplexed. Prof could answer the question only in the same way, as he answered Mini.


    "Because it''s there. If you don''t climb them, what other uses do mountains have?"


    "Youngsters¡­ Let''s see. You can build picturesque homes and castles on them, or you can herd Dread Ibexes there, or¡­"


    "You can climb them. Usually, mountains have fantastic views, almost like a map, and it''s an achievement to get to the top!"


    "I see. So you can brag in bars about all the hills and girls you conquered?"


    "Exactly!"


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    "Youngsters these days¡­ Be my guest. If you come back late, I will leave your stuff outside."


    Continuing up the mountain, Prof soon reached first the pine line, and not much later the tree line too. While the highest mountain in his country back home was barely a third in height (and he could reach the summit by car), he suspected, that pines usually made an appearance a little bit higher and gone extinct even higher. Why this particular mountain had those important lines where they were, Prof had no idea. He probably needed a Skill or another that specialized in alpine altitudinal zonation or something in that vein.


    He didn''t exactly care, anyway.


    He was there for the athletic challenge and the promised view, not to write an essay about plant life.


    When he reached the snow and cloud line at the same time, he did stop to ponder the wisdom of his expedition. He wasn''t cold ¨C his suba and the Lumberjack''s Shirt made sure of that ¨C but enjoying the view, a high mountain provided was not easy, if said view was obscured by low clouds.


    Walking around alone on a secluded mountain, where he couldn''t even see his hand in front of him was the prime situation, where Snow Golems, Ice Sprites, Yetis, Frost Salamanders, Tundra Mammoths and such made their presence known. Prof''s [Monsterology] ¨C however strange ways it worked ¨C informed him, that all those critters were real on Arkadia. It would have been more helpful if the Skill also told him something about the habitat of those monsters.


    He very much suspected, that Tundra Mammoths lived somewhere in the tundra, and not on some mountain in the temperate zone, and Yetis were most likely at home on really high mountains, not a three thousand-meter hill.


    That left enough critters, which could make his day worse.


    Either way, he was close to the summit, turning back because some nefarious clouds and esoteric monsters, which may or may not be there were just lazy. Prof forged forward!


    The last hundred meters of elevation were a constant uphill battle. Every step, Prof had to defeat perfidious ankle-deep snow, overcome devious hidden rocks, and triumph over¡­ well, the rising elevation. All the while the visibility was like thick fog.


    Well, Prof was walking through a cloud, after all, and the difference between a cloud and fog was just how far from the ground they were. On the other hand, Prof was technically still on the ground, so the cloud was probably moonlighting as fog anyway. Not, that Prof was any good in [Meteorology], but the issue presented quite a good philosophical question: if you were standing on the ground in a couple of thousand meters up, do you walk through fog or a cloud?


    Either way, on the last few meters, Prof defeated even his worst enemy on the mountain too: the cloud posing as fog.


    The view was probably worth the effort to climb up the mountain: clouds (they were above ground, so they weren''t fog, that was for sure) everywhere, blanketing every last piece of geography Greenskin lands could collect. Only a peak or two pierced the cloud cover.


    Well, the view was probably good for someone, who specialized in clouds, their creation, swirling or layering, but for Prof it was almost a complete bust. He hoped to upgrade his Mental Map a little bit, or at least enjoy a spectacular view, but all he managed to get was slightly damp and nearly freezing feet, and a few peaks for his map ¨C and even the latter were only indicated in grayscale.


    Most annoyingly, when he started his climb, the summit was still visible.


    In order to immortalize his achievement, he carved a ''Prof was here'' into a vertical piece of rock, and started his descent.


    As he neared the end of the snow, he noticed, that the cloud ¨C he decided to call it that and not fog, he was quite far from normal ground, after all ¨C started to thin out. Indeed, by the time he was halfway down the mountain, the summit was bathed in radiant sunshine again.


    "SERIOUSLY?!?!? COME OOOOON! MY LUCK IS AT 16!!!!" Prof let his frustration be heard by everyone nearby. Not that Goats, and¡­ Lynxes¡­ and Giraffes¡­ and¡­ Alligators¡­ and other critters usually living on mountains gave a damn. They probably were used to frustrated hikers already.


    That Prof''s high Luck wasn''t enough to prevent insidious clouds from collecting just when he conquered a peak, irritated him to no end. If Arkadia had gods, Prof would have been certain the local weather god messed with him just for shit and giggles. Well, there was a chance, that Prof was indeed lucky, radiant sunshine could have messed up his day quite easily. No way to know, how Arkadia''s ozone layer worked.


    On the other hand, maybe the very nice and certainly not evil System Administrator just decided, it was time to counter Prof''s ultimate cheat power, that his Mental Map was. What kind of cheat power could be countered by mere clouds?!


    Mapping quite a bit of real estate just by climbing a mountain and enjoying the scenery was, indeed, quite a cheat. The whole cartographic industry could be brought to its knees if Prof found a high enough mountain.


    Well, and learned how to draw maps¡­ Or anything.


    By the time he reached the ruins, it was starting to get dark ¨C he may or may not have miscalculated the time needed to do the hike. He wasn''t looking forward to finishing his expedition in darkness. For some strange reasons, medieval societies (even the excellent Greenskins) didn''t feel the need to provide illumination to random goat trails down some out-of-the-way mountain.


    Not, that the need was recognized on Earth either¡­


    "You are just in time, I was about to call it a day." The hidden master of dairy products informed him "I was confident, you wouldn''t fall off a cliff or something, but it is still excellent to see you in one piece."


    "Yeah, about cliffs¡­ Someone could install guard rails, so tourists wouldn''t fall to their deaths. Or at least put up some warning signs."


    "Why would we do that? If you don''t notice a cliff right ahead, a guardrail won''t save you either. A multiple hundred-meter drop is quite noticeable, no?"


    "But wouldn''t be excellent, not to let unobservant folks die from carelessness?"


    "Actually, no. You see, if your Perception is low enough not to notice a cliff just sitting there, or you are careless enough to walk off said cliff, you messed up your Stats and Perks really well, and wouldn''t be excellent. No big loss."


    Prof started to think, that Wiseass was a species trait for all Greenskins, not just something Wolfgang picked up on the way.


    "Here is your cheese. I forgot to tell you, what they do, please excuse my forgetfulness. So, let''s see. This one gives a bonus to [Climbing], this one gives you extra stamina, this one raises your basic speed this one repels snow and helps you move through ice and snow. And this beauty here¡­ the Missus will thank you profoundly. Wink-wink. Enjoy!"


    For some strange and unfathomable reason, Prof''s right eye started to twitch. There was probably a reason, why a grandmaster of cheese was living on a secluded mountain, and not turning big stones into small stones with a re-education brigade somewhere.


    Selling Viagra in cheese form to unsuspecting strangers was most likely un-excellent.


    Oh, and not telling folks, out to conquer a mountain, the other products would help with the endeavor wasn''t excellent either.

 Chapter 21: The Chicken in the Foxcoop, Part 1

    To Prof''s utter surprise, he managed to get back to his wagon without falling down the ¨C unsecured ¨C mountainside. The Goblin had one thing right: people with a high enough Perception, Agility, and Dexterity could manage to stay alive on a mountain trail even without guard rails. A more evil and Darwinian society could probably make this into a challenge of natural selection ¨C those, who managed to not fall to their deaths, earned the right to procreate.


    To Prof''s continued utter surprise, the wagon was still where he left it, including his traveling companions, but excluding any trace of recent carnage, orgies, or other "fun" things. Just to be sure, he refused to ask about their day. When there is a chance, you wouldn''t like the answer, you shouldn''t ask questions. It saves on headaches and medical bills.


    ¡°So, girls, according to my map, the next town sits on the border, and after that, we will leave Ostwaldland, and enter the Human country of Puglamento. They should be Garuli. A pity, Bianca decided to stay behind, her language Skill would have been invaluable¡­¡±


    ¡°Missssster not ssssspeak language?¡± Sharpclaw inquired.


    ¡°Well, I put 30% into the Skill, that should be about enough to get through the country.¡±


    ¡°Of course, your awesome, fabulous, and magnificent adventuring master is highly qualified in the language department too!"


    ¡°Oh yeah, I remember you knowing Gerulian. How good are you?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s an incredible level of excellence! I¡¯m almost at the level of a native! No, even better!¡±


    ¡°Numbersssss pleasssse.¡±


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s on 40%. But! That is a third higher than what Prof has! I¡¯m the most excellent Vampire in all the Greenskin lands!¡±


    Mini¡¯s [Math] was implacable, as it always was ¨C the party was lucky to have a math-wiz with a whopping 80% in the Skill! While Prof hated to agree, Mini was most likely indeed the most excellent bloodsucker around ¨C of course, not counting tax collectors and lawyers, but those were a completely different species.


    Also, with two-thirds of the party being (barely) able to order a beer and ask about the weather, what could possibly go wrong? After all, they only wanted to cross the country, not participate in academic discussions or something. Minute intricacies of the language probably wouldn''t need to be understood.


    Hopefully.


    To Mini¡¯s complete satisfaction, they reached to promised town not much after noon the next day.


    To Mini''s utter dissatisfaction, the local pleasure provider community only consisted of a lone freelancer and a couple of folks, who did the providing as a side job.


    The town itself wasn''t much to write home about: the usual but-ugly Greenskin living bunkers and no real sights to see (although Prof''s booklet insisted upon it having multiple beautiful statues, Prof just found modern art). As usual with Greenskin settlements, it didn''t even have town walls; however, if the whole town consisted of bunkers, why would the locals need town walls in the first place?


    On the other hand ¨C and that was consistent with other Greenskin settlements ¨C the roads were reasonably clean, full of very polite and excellent Greenskin, but with a marked absence of beggars and such, Prof associated with medieval cities. Or basically every place, more than two Humans made their home.


    As a border town, there were more foreigners present too. Picking them out was quite easy: if one didn¡¯t have green skin, he was almost certainly a foreigner.


    The party''s first priority was not to see the sights or find accommodation ¨C Prof would have started with those ¨C but to dump Mini at the pleasure provider to take the edge off. While Prof at first felt sorry for the female with buyable affection (he doubted, one person would be enough for Mini, without being run rugged), he soon found out, that the Hobgoblin was actually a Redcap.


    That realization lead to interesting questions. For example, what one had to do in that particular line of work to become a Redcap, or what kind of Skill it was associated with, or who would teach the other new things, or who would be¡­


    ¡°Oh, hey, Sharpclaw! Look! A modern art statue!¡± pointing at random things and exclaiming obviously worked even if the one pointing wanted to distract himself.


    According to the inscription, the statue was a depiction of the crossing of Main Road and Side Street Number 10. Conveniently, it sat at the corner of both roads.


    ¡°Whatssss thisssss?" Since Sharpclaw still couldn''t speak, read, or understand Greenskinian, it was on Prof to explain the meaning and intention behind the statue.


    ¡°It¡¯s a representation of the excellence of having two roads meet at right angles, just in the right place to erect a statue commemorating the excellence of two roads meeting at right angles, just in the right place to¡­¡±


    ¡°Greensssskinsss sssstupid. Sssstatue ugly.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I have seen better. You don''t have roadside statues at home?" Prof just remembered Sharpclaw didn''t exactly tell them much about her home. There were tales, mostly how she caught fish this big and that huge, how she disarmed extremely difficult traps, or how successfully she hid from higher-class Reptiles. Prof had a suspicion, that most of the tales were influenced by Sharpclaw having Big Talker, and so she most likely embellished them at least a little bit.


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    Sharpclaw once told Wolfgang, how she defeated a Level 12 Boss Red Elf all on her own back in the Valley, after all. Prof was reasonably sure, that Shinead wasn''t such high Level or a Boss, and the Kobold didn''t fight another Elf.


    However, there was a kernel of truth to the story. In the end, Sharpclaw defeated the much higher-level Shinead all on her own. Well, stabbed a sleeping Elf to death, but details¡­


    ¡°We no have roadssss. Reptilessss mosssstly live under sssssea.¡±


    ¡°Mostly? And when not?¡±


    ¡°Live on land.¡±


    ¡°All right, but you don¡¯t have statues?¡±


    ¡°Reptilesss have sssstatuessss. In palaccccessss of ruling Reptilessss. Wassssted on lower Reptilessss.¡±


    The Reptiles obviously had an interesting society, and probably interesting cities and architecture. If only they didn''t live undersea, Prof would have put visiting on his list.


    Well, he could always learn, how to breathe underwater. That accursed rulebook listed a few Perks in that direction, so there were probably such in reality too¡­


    With Mini in the safe care of the Redcap, they had time to kill ¨C but nothing really interesting to do.


    With most of their shopping already taken care of, Prof decided to follow the time-honored pastime, every tourist did, when visiting a new and exciting settlement ¨C looking for the closest bar to get wasted for (hopefully) less, than at home. Of course, Prof couldn¡¯t get stiff drunk, since no one else would (or could) drive the wagon, but he studied the rulebook in detail.


    There was a whole supplementary rule set covering drinking and its influence on Skills and Stats. Strangely, that piece of optional rule was actually exactly how Arkadia worked, as far as the Locals knew. According to Mini, there were scientists, who did some experimentation and distributed their findings for the prosperity of the masses.


    Be as it may, because of the self-sacrifice of dedicated scientists and willing subjects, Prof could figure out, how much exactly he could drink to get happy but still able to direct his (slightly drunken) Hogs along the well-maintained cobbled road to a very good place.


    ¡°Let¡¯s see¡­ Endurance of 14¡­ [Party] at khmmm¡­ 25%... No extra Perks¡­ Normal size¡­ That would be line 5, column D¡­ Not to get slightly drunk that would be¡­ Oh, wait, my trinket¡­ so¡­ Dear provider of beverages, I would like half a liter of your¡­ not-so-overpriced but still excellentish¡­ red wine.¡±


    ¡°Ssssharpclaw will walk¡­¡±


    ¡°Look, Sharpclaw, the rules clearly state, I can drink that much without risking any deductions to Stats and Skills! Besides, I''m quite certain, Mini will be occupied for a time, I will sober up till she is done. Nothing could go wrong! Most likely."


    ¡°Misssster hangssss out too much with crazzzzy vampire female.¡±


    Prof, as a gentleman, naturally respected the opinions of others ¨C and as a perfectly normal Human didn''t let others'' opinions stand in the way of doing what he wanted. Besides, the supplementary rules were created in a scientific way, and as such were written in stone. Why would someone invent bogus rules, claiming, they were scientifically proven, when they could be disproven by the most basic counter-experiment?


    Most civilized places had bars sitting on every other corner, after all¡­


    In the end, Prof managed to slightly miscalculate ¨C Mini took more time than anticipated, and as it is widely known, one unit of booze rarely was content on its own. Mostly, they got scared, and demanded the company of others of their kind, so they could bravely face adversity together.


    In this instance, Prof decided to find out, why Greenskins were exclusively making sweet wine, and started a scientific investigation. For that, he had to taste the selection, the bar was providing. Being a responsible person, he did the tasting one-eighth of a liter each time, but even so, he finished the bar''s selection quite fast.


    As it was a Greenskin bar, and Greenskins were notoriously excellent, the barmaid got in contact with another bar right next door with a different selection and continued to supply Prof''s experiment and investigation.


    ¡°Ssseeeee, Sharpclaw¡­ Thisssss one haaasss a mellow taste, with theeee aftertaaassste of a meadow in the sssssspring¡­¡±


    ¡°Tasssstesss like cow dung?¡± Of course, Sharpclaw didn¡¯t understand the vocabulary of a true sommelier. Neither did Prof, but at least he was able to fake it.


    ¡°Accctuaalllyyy¡­ Yeah¡­ But sweet cow dung. Next!¡±


    Not only was every last wine in the second bar sweet too, but so was the selection of the third.


    ¡°Dear provider of excellent wines. Could you answer a scientific question for me? Why have Greenskins such a propensity for sweet wines?¡± at least Prof intended the sentence to sound like that. In reality, it came out a little bit more slurred. And partly in Bergian. The barmaids ¨C and a few random onlookers ¨C understood the meaning despite Prof¡¯s worst effort.


    ¡°We haven¡¯t found out, how to make hot wine.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s because of the grapes. The types we have only give sweet wine.¡±


    ¡°We can store sweet wine longer.¡±


    ¡°No, you are all wrong! It is a well-known fact, that sweet wine has a soothing effect after you eat too spicy food!"


    ¡°That is just part of it. I have tried Pinkskin wine, and a true Greenskin just can''t hold that dry stuff. Sweet wine is in our blood, so to say!" at this time it was safe to assume, that Prof''s wine still had traces of blood in it, not the other way around, so he was too drunk to argue genetics.


    Well, even sober, he wouldn¡¯t be able to do that ¨C not even counting his more-or-less locked knowledge. Even back on Earth, he had a hazy recollection of some double helix and colorful plastic thingies on the model, and how procreating with the wrong person would give the offspring strange traits.


    ¡°Are you saying, I¡¯m not a true Greenskin? I happen to like those dry Pinkskin wines! How un-excellent!¡±


    To Prof''s chagrin, the discussion devolved into a shouting match, about what true Greenskinian was ¨C that included, after the first minute, music too. Mythrill already made it to the town, but most inhabitants were taunt adherents to Boonies and Borderlands, and the vocal Clay, Granite, and Mythrill minorities mostly kept their heads down.


    By the time a very satisfied-looking and slightly limping Mini found them, the Greenskins started to organize a spontaneous open discussion. And Prof was stiff drunk.


    ¡°Oh, how sweet! Did you make a riot just for me? You are the best!"

 Chapter 21: The Chicken in the Foxcoop, Part 2

    Prof had only hazy recollections, of how they made it back to the wagon, but how the whole party, including wagon, Hogs, and mounts relocated right next to the border crossing, he had not the faintest clue. He was fairly certain, it was not him, who drove ¨C there was not enough wreckage around, and his prized mode of road mobility looked undamaged too.


    ¡°What happened?¡± Prof groaned, then groaned again, when he saw the billowing smoke above the town in the distance ¡°We didn¡¯t start the fire, didn¡¯t we?¡±


    ¡°Unfortunately, no. We were already away because we had to evacuate a certain fun-murdering drunkard when the locals started to collect furniture from volunteers. By the way, you owe me five Hellers for the coach driver, who helped us to drive."


    ¡°But why riot right now? There was no indication of unrest yesterday!¡±


    ¡°I think, the whole thing started with a discussion, why Greenskin wine has to be sweet. Idiots!¡±


    ¡°Wine, you say? I don¡¯t think, we had anything to do with that. Good.¡±


    ¡°Misssster innocccccent! Wassssn¡¯t there!¡±


    ¡°Yeah! If anyone asks, remember that!¡±


    ¡°What? Had you anything to do with this after all?¡±


    ¡°Definitely not! You heard Sharpclaw! I wasn¡¯t even there!¡±


    ¡°You know, no one is going to believe that, if they had any truth-seeking device or magic?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ Oh, look! A burning town in the distance!¡±


    Unfortunately, there wasn''t any conveniently placed tree nearby, that Prof could have pointed at to distract Mini.


    ¡°Nice try, but you are actually right. What could possibly go wrong? That was just some internal Greenskin stuff, and we are foreigners, everyone could see that! For example, I have this very charming deathly pale skin color, Sharplaw is a Reptile, and you¡­ Well¡­ You look kinda green right now¡­¡±


    ¡°Thanks, I guess. Let¡¯s get the Hogs drunk and get out of here. Eternal nice weather awaits!¡±


    As it transpired, the Elves weren¡¯t the only ones, who didn¡¯t give a damn about folks leaving their country. The Greenskin border guards just played some farewell music and waved the party through.


    Of course, they had better things to do, like searching a wagon that just wanted to enter Ostwaldland ¨C the military music player on duty interrupted her searching-a-wagon-music just long enough to play a few tunes of farewell, and was back to accompany some excellent official work of collecting taxes and finding ¡°contraband¡±.


    Prof was reasonably sure, that the Human, whose wagon was currently searched would be happy with his teeth intact but robbed of all his possessions if the border guard were Elves. Or from "interesting" places on Earth. Fining dumb tourists for collecting some stones or a fistful of sand was a legitimate measure to fill different coffers, after all.


    Prof was only surprised, he wasn¡¯t fined for pre-meditated aggravated tourism somewhere on his journey.


    His glee over his wagon not being searched lasted only till they reached the other side of the border.


    ¡°Welcome to Puglamento. Do you have anything to declare?" the border guard asked. Thankfully in Greenskinian. All the guards were quite short, barely reaching Prof''s chest, and had black hair, and an olive skin tone, a look Prof associated with Bianca, Garuli, and Southern Europeans. They were equipped with the most generic guard gear Prof could imagine a spear, cheap armor, a short sword or long dagger, and a leather helmet.


    Well, police and military had almost the same gear almost everywhere back on Earth, probably because it was the most convenient ¨C looking back to the Greenskin border guard (still happily going through a wagon-load of stuff), they had almost the same gear as their colleagues from across an imaginary line on the map. Sure, there were stylistic differences, for example, the Greenskins wore sturdy, and probably excellent boots, while the Garuli had¡­ high-heeled ankle boots.


    Even stranger was, that only the males wore those, the only female guard (who was accidentally the tallest one) had normal footwear. There was a difference between how high the heels were, the grunts had only heels befitting normal Earth male boots, but the officer, standing back and looking important, had five centimeters high ones.


    Prof shrugged ¨C alien cultures and alien customs. The officer would probably have issues with running, but that wasn¡¯t Prof¡¯s problem.


    Prof''s current problem was how to go through customs check without having to pay exorbitant tolls, tariffs, customs, and taxes. Or getting his hard-earned blinky stones changing ownership.


    ¡°Honored officer of guarding border, I can state with utmost confidence, we have nothing we want to sell in your excellent¡­ ehm¡­ kingdom? We are just passing through to the sea.¡±


    ¡°And we are adventurers, customs don''t apply to us," Mini added.


    ¡°Puglamento is actually a k?zt¨¢rsas¨¢g.¡± The guard corrected Prof. There was some confusion in the statement, since there was no word for the form of government the Puglamentese¡­ Puglamentoians¡­ Locals adopted in Greenskinian, and Prof didn¡¯t know that word in Gerulian. ¡°Our most exalted supreme leader decided it that way, and so we are now on our glorious road to tear down the remains of the self-entitled oppressive bourgeois government!¡±


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    ¡°Good for you. Any inroads?¡±


    ¡°Oh yes! The previous most exalted supreme leader, his predecessor, and his predecessor all laid the basis for our current most exalted supreme leader¡¯s work!¡±


    ¡°Health to the supreme leader!¡± the rest of the border guard shouted.


    ¡°I see¡­ It looks like you have been working towards the goal for some time, no?"


    ¡°The first utmost exalted supreme leader overthrew the evil, corrupt, and inhumane king one hundred and eleven years ago. According to our current most exalted supreme leader, we will reach the ultimate goal any year now!"


    ¡°Health to the supreme leader!¡±


    ¡°Good luck to you! I¡¯m confident, the goal is just around the next corner!¡±


    ¡°Exactly like the most exalted supreme leader promised!¡±


    ¡°Health to the supreme leader!¡±


    Prof nodded wisely. From the telling, he surmised, the locals adopted a form of government, where they plundered the coffers of recently deceased or expelled royalty and nobility, put the new bosses on slightly less fancy chairs, and gave them slightly less fancy clothes. But the new leadership was still as entitled (or even more so), than the previous one.


    Anyways, how the locals intended to govern themselves wasn''t Prof''s problem either. He wasn''t the type to find, rally, and lead the resistance to overthrow one regime or another. Just so he could demand from the locals to follow Earth examples, that weren''t exactly working on Earth either. First, he wasn''t some Ideological Crusader ¨C even his Character Parchment said so ¨C and secondly, exporting your own forms of government wasn¡¯t a success story from what he remembered of the last couple of centuries on Earth.


    But, mostly, because the whole thing would be too much work for too little gain, and would postpone his plans to tour the world.


    Well, a very high percentage of insurgent leaders ended up having an accident in the form of beheading, getting shot, burning, hanging, poisoning, suffocating, drowning, bombing, or any random combination of the above anyway.


    Prof preferred to stay alive.


    ¡°Before we let you on your way, could you answer a question for us first?" the guard officer asked "We hear rumors about a new Hero''s Party forming. Allegedly the new Hero destroyed a Red Elf Clan on his own, captured some world-ending weapon, fought his way through the Valley of Torment, found long-lost treasure, burned a castle to the ground in Ostwaldland, and sparked widespread riots there. Also, he orchestrated a smile outbreak. Naturally, while collecting a huge harem for himself. The rumors speak about dozens of brain-dead females! Have you heard anything on your travels?"


    From what Prof heard, Hero''s Parties were extremely dangerous and considered a menace by basically everyone alive or undead. If there was indeed a new Hero about, and did all those heinous crimes, it was even more imperative for Prof to leave the country. He didn''t want to be caught up in some moron''s quest for world domination or something.


    He found it strange, however, that obviously there was someone, who sparked riots in Ostwaldland. He was quite certain, the riots started because of Mythrill (and a discussion about wine), but it was always possible, someone was working behind the curtain. If Prof ever found the responsible party (or Hero), he would certainly kick his ass ¨C it was markedly un-excellent to use Arkadia¡¯s first Mythrill concert (a venue, Prof worked very hard to make possible) for nefarious purposes.


    And for collecting a harem of innocent virgins and turning them into braindead bimbos...


    ¡°I can honestly say, this is the first time, I heard about a possible Hero incursion. Be assured, if I see such a wicked evil-doer, I will inform the authorities with post-haste!¡±


    After the border guards waved Prof and his not-harem through ¨C being an adventurer obviously had its perks ¨C so they could concentrate on searching a definitely-non-adventurer¡¯s trade wagon, Prof pondered the new information he received.


    ¡°Do you think, we will stumble upon this Hero?¡±


    ¡°He sounds like a fun individual. Nothing could go wrong if we hit up each other."


    ¡°Heroessss bad. Ssssstart sssstabbing!¡±


    ¡°Wait, Mini, you would side with a Hero?!¡±


    ¡°Of course not! I¡¯m not crazy! Getting some fun out of that moron is one thing, but helping him? No way! Maybe if we followed at a safe distance, we could still catch some fun, while not being directly associated with him.¡±


    ¡°There are some details, that bugs me with the story, though.¡± Prof flexed all his 18 Points in Intelligence ¡°See, we know of one Red Elf Clan, that was destroyed for a world-ending artifact, but we hung around Shinead and Foxy long enough to catch wind of a second Clan being killed off. Do you remember Foxy saying anything?¡±


    ¡°Not really. She was mostly ¡®Oh YEAH! Again¡¯. But I think, those Clans don¡¯t just go belly up one after another.¡±


    ¡°Exactly! Then, this Hero goes into the Valley of Torment, recovers lost treasure, and anywhere he goes, it¡¯s riots and destruction. Do you think, the authorities had mistaken us for the Hero¡¯s Party?¡±


    ¡°Did you burn down a castle recently? Or cause a slime outbreak? Do you secretly have a harem? You had time to do all this, I can''t supervise you all day! If you do anything like this, I expect you to inform me in time. I want to have fun too!"


    ¡°Not, that I know of.¡±


    ¡°See? There is simply not the faintest chance for a normal adventuring party of three to be mistaken for a Hero''s Party! Keep calm, nothing could possibly go wrong!"


    For some strange and unexplainable reason, Prof didn¡¯t feel all that reassured. If Earth history taught him anything, folks were burned at the stake for less. The possibility, that an innocent tourist, minding his own business could be a long-dreaded horror was most likely enough for the uneducated masses or over-eager officials to start collecting firewood.


    Not to mention secret societies and paranoid officials, who killed Travelers on sight on principle. Prof felt some crucial information was left out during his reincarnation.


    Probably he should have asked more questions, like ¡®Can I have an actually competent case handler?¡¯


    Late in the evening, he realized, what very high Endurance and Poison Resistance meant in regards to his Hogs: those mobile methane generators had a higher consumption, than a Soviet-area truck, where the driver sold the petrol on the black market and claimed otherwise.


    ¡°I think, we need to make a pit stop soon. We are almost out of Hog Booze.¡±

 Chapter 21: The Chicken in the Foxcoop, Part 3

    Surprisingly, there wasn¡¯t an established infrastructure for fueling Hogs in Puglamento, but, not entirely unsurprisingly, there was a quite well-developed one for fueling Humans and other marginally intelligent species. Every village needed a bar to let the local workforce forget their grueling work days.


    Well, not every last village had a bar, inn, tavern, or other booze-dispensing facility, but those had inhabitants, who could make their own stuff.


    Or specialized in planting happy-making botany in the first place.


    Despite not having three-letter agencies to control substances, there weren''t many fields of happy plants around. Probably because folks needed to eat first and get happy only a distant second. Or maybe because it was already late autumn, and the fields were empty for climate reasons. With Prof''s abysmal [Agriculture], he wasn''t able to tell, what fallow fields had been planted with previously. Not, that he was all that interested in the issue in the first place.


    However well the watering holes for locals were distributed, Prof soon learned, that in contrast to Greenskins the Garuli weren¡¯t all that eager to sell even their worst piss to random strangers.


    Prof also learned, that his 30% in [Speech: Gerulian] wasn¡¯t exactly enough to understand the local dialect ¨C obviously, he threw Skill Points at the literary version of Eastern Gerulian, and the local population spoke a strange dialect of Western Gerulian.


    Mini was actually even worse ¨C she spoke a small Eastern dialect, and while she could understand Prof, she was absolutely clueless, about what the locals were trying to tell her.


    A surprisingly helpful commissar (there weren''t any nobles left in Puglamento) in one of the villages enlightened Prof about the intricacies of the language issue: at a low Skill Level the user knew only a local dialect, or in case the language was learned through throwing Skill Points at it, the literary version. Only at a higher level were other dialects understandable and spoken. The higher the level, the more exotic dialects could be understood and mimicked.


    However, the language in question always showed up with the same name on the Character Parchment, without any clarification or detail.


    Prof though, it would have been nice to know such details in advance.


    Not, that there weren¡¯t any other small details, he would have liked to know in advance.


    The fact, that Garuli lived in pyramids and built everything in a pyramid form didn''t even register in that enormous pile of would-have-been nice to know collection of information.


    Of course, not every last peasant lived in a comfy Big Pyramid ¨C the pyramids weren¡¯t Egyptian ones, but resembled the ones from Meroe more closely; more steep and higher for the given base area ¨C and even if more stone was used, than in the Bergian lands, the Domain or Ostwaldland (pseudo-concrete didn¡¯t rate as stone in Prof¡¯s opinion), most living pyramids were constructed from wood, twigs and loam.


    Those poor men''s imitations of monumental religious architecture gave Gerulian villages a certain flair, so to speak. For everyone born and raised on Earth, a collection of pyramids meant a graveyard or mass blood sacrifices. If people were constantly moving in and out of them and moving about, two images sprung into mind: a horde of tourists descending on the expensive-to-enter sight in an out-of-the-way location, or someone was making a movie about the living dead.


    Prof was reasonably sure, mass tourism wasn¡¯t a thing on Arkadia, and neither was someone shooting a low-budget horror flick in the cheap-ass set. Therefore, logically speaking, the Garuli had to have some national idiocy going on, that made them build quite impractical buildings.


    They even built barns and sheds and¡­ other agrarian buildings in a pyramid form!


    Well, everyone had the right to make architecture how they liked, and the villages certainly looked more pleasing, than the Greenskinian bunkers.


    Also, canalization obviously wasn''t invented in Puglamento yet, so every settlement had a certain¡­ fragrance¡­ made up of manure (from open cesspits), mostly unwashed bodies, and smoked garlic.


    After spending months in almost-civilized lands (or the wilderness), Prof really missed that smell of Humanity.


    Not.


    A small intermission about the local aesthetics aside, Prof soon had a problem: the Hogs sobered up, all the Hog Juice was used up, and the wagon transformed from a slightly dangerous projectile, driven by an untalented idiot to a rolling calamity for all living, un-living and dead things, pulled by a ton of alcoholic Hog, looking for their next fix.


    And driven by an untalented moron.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think, we can reach the sea in this way. We need booze, and we need it fast!¡± Prof informed his traveling companions.


    ¡°I see a few solutions." Mini was helpful as always. Prof had, however, quite an idea, what those solutions entailed "First, rob a village of all their booze and virgins. Second, threaten a village to abduct all their virgins, if they don''t sell you booze. Third, kill some dangerous local monster, accept booze as payment, and get every marginally attractive-looking person to participate in an orgy."


    Indeed, Prof was correct, about what Mini''s ideas would be. As the old wisdom said: If you have a hammer, everything will look like an orgy waiting to happen. Or something like that, but Prof didn''t have many hammers (or the Skills to go with them), only a Vampire, who had the habit of making every husband and wife happy. At the same time.


    Or start fires, she didn¡¯t intend to put out.


    ¡°Tosssss wagon. Walk to sssssea." Even Sharpclaw chimed in with a completely crazy, unreasonable, and unrealistic scenario.


    ¡°Mini, your last idea actually has some merit. We can do some adventurer stuff, and surely, the local noble¡­ ehmm¡­ commissar would surely reward us with Hog Juice.¡±


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    ¡°First, don¡¯t call the booze Hog Juice. Folks may misunderstand it. Wait a minute¡­ No, keep calling it Hog Juice. It will be funny! Secondly, some merit?!?! I''m a master adventurer if you have forgotten! My ideas have lots and lots, and lots of merit! All the time!"


    ¡°Yes, of course. So, what kind of dangerous monsters could we expect in a civilized country?¡±


    ¡°Weeeeell¡­ In Forestdeep you could find every kind, some Estates even let fun critters lose, so everyone stays on alert and can have fun. In this booooooring country? Maybe wild dogs. Or some extremely resistant weed.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not weeding the fields!¡±


    ¡°I don''t think, anyone would pay you for weeding the fields. They have peasants for that, and they do it for free. I was thinking along the lines of¡­ No, those plants probably don''t grow this far South, and you would need a bored magic user to cultivate them¡­ Hmmm¡­ Most likely you will be stuck with wild dogs, a boar, or maybe a troll."


    ¡°No more trollssssss! Disssssgussssting!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I still have nightmares because of the last one. Normal wild critters it is.¡±


    Strangely, most settlements could take care of their own problems, and there wasn''t some monster lurking behind every second bush ¨C semi-regular army patrols and peasants with pitchforks would do that to a naturally balanced environment. Sapient creatures had this habit of killing off everything dangerous, annoying, or deemed redundant (or slow enough to be getting caught) wherever they settled.


    The rest they domesticated.


    Prof did get some job offers, if he understood correctly they were about helping out some maidens with tilling fields, or other things, maidens needed urgent help with. With his bad language Skills, he wasn''t exactly able to figure out (probably) flowery speech but wasn''t prepared for field work, or helping the locals alleviate their issue with a too shallow gene pool either way.


    If he wanted to make a career out of agricultural work (or being someone''s boy toy), he would have selected different Skills and Perks. Even back on Earth.


    It was the fifth village after their grandiose idea, that they got a lead for honest adventurer work, that didn¡¯t include working furrows.


    There was, however, a slight issue.


    The farmer in question, who wanted some stuff sorted out, spoke an even more obscure dialect, and Prof only understood maybe a third of what was said.


    ¡°What did he say?¡± Mini obviously didn¡¯t even understand that much.


    ¡°I''m not quite sure. Something about a coop, chickens, and foxes. He either wants more eggs, and we have to work on the poultry, or he wants some eggs broken. He definitely wants something to be gone."


    ¡°Usssss?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so. There wasn¡¯t enough shouting and waving pitchforks around, so he probably doesn¡¯t want us to leave his property.¡±


    ¡°So, kill foxes, and take care of chickens, naughty boy?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t really want to do the chicken part, but the foxes would be doable.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you like them hairy? Naughty!¡±


    ¡°Come on, Mini! Not everything is about having a good time! You give Humans bad propaganda!¡±


    ¡°Not everything is about having fun?!?! Are you crazy?!? What next? Find an honest, dead-end job, work yourself to the bone for little payment and recognition, or die early from a heart attack? Oh, and I''m not Human anymore! Hah!"


    ¡°You do realize, I have done exactly that? Not the heart attack, but rebar through the brain is almost the same. So, no, thank you. I think I have accomplished and seen more in the last six months here, than in thirty-five years back home."


    ¡°See, having fun is everything! Bow to the profound wisdom of your superior adventuring master!¡±


    ¡°Wasn¡¯t it fabulous and magnificent?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that too!¡±


    ¡°Ssssstab foxessss already?¡±


    ¡°About that¡­ What are the chances, they will conveniently come to us, and not run away at the slightest noise?¡±


    ¡°Basically zilch.¡±


    ¡°Nil.¡±


    ¡°I thought so¡­ Maybe I should invest in some ranged weapons. My axes are only good close-up and personal."


    ¡°Yeah, and if you are doing that, get a shield, a spear, maybe a sword, and a few other funny implements! You have to have the right tool for every situation!"


    ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Well, theoretically. However, you suck at most every weapon besides axes, so to solution for you would be to stand on the sidelines and look good. Maybe you could wear some skimpy underwear and wave around feathers. That would cheer me up, while I do the job!"


    Prof imagined his new career, cheering up a battlefield while wearing tight-fitting, but very short clothes, probably with a few other guys, while Mini and dozens like her were bashing heads. Nope. He still had some pride left.


    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t that be distracting?¡± He tried to be reasonable.


    ¡°Not really. I can do two things at the same time, and when it''s over, the look would be worth the effort. Or something. You could try the skimpy clothes while helping me do the job, though. I think I have some fitting clothes left¡­"


    ¡°Ssssstab foxessss already?¡±


    As they reached the coop (it was a pyramid), Prof had the suspicion, that he may have not understood the farmer very well. Normally, there were chickens (or rabbits) in the enclosure and the cages, that much he knew, and sneaky foxes were trying to get in to have an early lunch. All the cartoons couldn''t be wrong, after all.


    ¡°Aren¡¯t the foxes supposed to be outside, trying to get in?¡± he asked the others.


    ¡°Maybe they are Red Elf Foxes, and they successfully infiltrated? I¡¯m a noble, not a chicken farmer.¡±


    ¡°Thossssse foxessss? Sssstab foxessss?¡±


    ¡°Yes and no.¡± Prof immediately clarified his statement. You never know with one-word answers ¡°Yes, those are foxes, and no, I don¡¯t think, we are supposed to stab them.¡±


    ¡°So, if the foxes already infiltrated, and we shouldn¡¯t kill them, what was the epic quest you found for us supposed to be all about? Collect eggs? I don¡¯t see any chickens around.¡±


    That was indeed a problem. How should they find chickens in a farming community? They surely weren''t around every other corner! Even if they somehow managed to find some, how should they know, they were the right chickens, waiting to be stabbed? Most likely, winged farm animals didn''t have plate numbers or logos to advertise their ownership. Well, maybe Pegasuses¡­ Pegazi¡­ flying horses did. They were supposedly expensive.


    ¡°Misssster! Misssster! Thosssse chickensssss?¡±


    ¡°What? Oh. Seriously now?¡±

 Chapter 21: The Chicken in the Foxcoop, Part 4

    It is a well-known fact, that steroids puff up the user after prolonged use. Arkadia¡¯s Administrator most likely fed magical steroids to normal steroids, just to inject the resulting concoction into poor, innocent poultry. Probably there were traces of fantasy-cocaine, fantasy-meth, and a few other fantasy-drugs in the mix too.


    At least Prof was reasonably sure, chickens didn''t grow a meter tall, weighed probably a few dozen kilos, and had evil red eyes and beaks, that could cut battleship armor. And were currently dipping blood from a slain dog.


    Well, it was probably a dog.


    Of course, Prof slightly exaggerated. The flock of bloodthirsty enemies they were facing were at best knee high with a weight of only a few kilos, and the beaks most likely could only cut through thick tin foil. And the dead probably-dog was of the lapdog kind.


    ¡°Oh, look! A Dread Rooster! Do you know how rare they are?¡± Mini was most likely trying to save some critter, threatened with extinction by desperate adventurers ¡°Mine! Imagine the bragging rights after I kill it! No one saw a Dread Rooster near my estate for a century or so!¡±


    Or not.


    To everyone¡¯s surprise, the Dread Rooster was indeed close to Prof¡¯s estimate for the rest of the flock ¨C a dozen Dire Hens.


    Thirteen Elites, all in the Level 5 to 9 range, would indeed pose a serious danger to a peasant militia, maybe even an army patrol. Such a horde of poultry would make soup and meatballs, maybe even sausages or a barbeque out of normal folks¡­ well, most likely not a barbeque, the chickens would need fire for that. But, since chickens were the closest living relatives to theropods, and a T-Rex probably wasn¡¯t that different from Dragons¡­


    Anyway, the extremely dangerous dragon relatives could turn every unprepared local, trying to make a name for himself or impress some maiden into the menu of a restaurant.


    Unfortunately for them (and locals, who wanted to help maidens with farm work), there was a well-prepared, over-geared, and highly trained adventurer party around.


    That party was indeed around somewhere ¨C probably a few villages over, drinking the stock dry ¨C leaving the field clear for Prof to do heroic stuff. And heroic stuff they did!


    ¡°Binky! Fetch!¡±


    ¡°Sleepy! Attack! Attack, I said! MOVE!!! Kill stuff! Come on! Free, fresh food there! Don¡¯t chew on my ears! Eat the chickens! Why won¡¯t he attack?!?¡±


    ¡°Headshot! ¡®Cause your [Animal Training] sucks. You haven¡¯t even tried to play with him! Nothing! Having a Nightmare is more work, than occasionally feeding him some Gremlins! Headshot!¡±


    ¡°He is a fucking predator! See prey, kill prey, eat prey, that is all, what predators do! Prey! There! Eat prey, stupid horse!!!¡±


    ¡°Misssster sssstop playing with sssstupid horsssse! Misssster kill chicken!¡±


    Obviously, Sharpclaw was better in [Human Training], than Prof was, since right after the order, he left his reluctant mount to do what he wanted and waded into a pitched battle with his axes at the ready.


    Well, into one-sided slaughter.


    Binky, as every trademarked Cheat Power, already dispatched most of the poultry, the rest was taken care of by well-placed headshots and daggers to the¡­ not exactly to the kidneys, but to important body parts. Only the Dread Rooster and a Level 7 Dire Hen remained.


    ¡°The Rooster is mine!" Mini reminded everyone, exchanging her crossbow for her saber. "Bragging rights, here I come!"


    Prof felt slightly silly for approaching an overgrown chicken with not one, but two awesome magical axes. It was a chicken, after all. There was probably an approved way ¨C even on Earth ¨C how to make poultry not-living most conveniently, Prof, however, did not know the trick. He was a city guy and usually found chickens already slain and packaged up in stores. The chickens, the Greenskins provided him with in Castle Seeblickstein were for The Chopper to get blood, not the normal way either weapons or fowl were used.


    ¡°CLUCK! Cluck-cluck-CLUCK!¡± the hen informed him in no uncertain way about something. If Prof had [Speech: Chicken], a Skill he was more-or-less sure existed, he would have understood the meaning. He guessed it nonetheless. It either meant ¡®Gimme corn!¡¯ or ¡®I will gut you, mofo!¡¯ As a punishment for speaking foreigner, Prof kicked the offensive animal in the face, concentrating on a Critical Hit.


    He shouldn¡¯t have done that.


    101% in [Unarmed Combat] was about enough for a drunken bar fight, where hitting the enemies was mostly optional, but it was insufficient for an aimed kick against a quite high-Level Elite wild farm animal.


    Prof knew very well, that there was mathematics, regulations, and wizardry with numbers behind all the rules, governing Arkadia and all those flashy numbers on his Character Parchment.


    He even had read most of the Third Edition and supplements, and those books included charts and possible outcomes for every action.


    For example, if one tried to do a Critical Hit, there was a chance for Critical Failure too ¨C actually, the chance was there for every action, but with Criticals, they were more pronounced. To stay with the example, if one wanted to kick something small and agile in the face, there were deductions for size, defense rating, the aimed hit, and a few others. If, for example, the Skill governing the action was too low, the result could be quite catastrophic ¨C like a broken or dropped weapon, a blown-up kitchen, or dying animals.


    Prof just fell on his behind.


    Actually, if not for his high Agility and Dexterity, he would have faceplanted into both of his axes. Neither were classical rebar but would have caused him to visit the afterlife office.


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    The poor men''s dragon seized the opportunity and attacked the prone Prof immediately.


    ¡°Die! Die! Die! Damn winged rat! Girls, some help here?¡±


    Without his axes, Prof was almost helpless ¨C even if he could draw his dagger, which he couldn''t, because he was resting uncomfortably on it, his Skill with that kind of weapon was exactly like his [Unarmed Combat]. That left him with his fists. Or more precisely his right fist, he needed his left to keep the bloodthirsty fowl out of reach.


    ¡°Girls!?! It wants my eyes! Help! Please?!?¡±


    ¡°Ssssshould help?¡±


    ¡°No, he is a big boy, he got this. If not, and is killed by some random boring critter, it wouldn¡¯t be that much of a loss. Besides, it¡¯s funny. Jerky?¡±


    ¡°Thankssssss!


    ¡°I can¡¯t hit it hard enough!¡±


    ¡°Choke the chicken already! Come on, Prof, wrap your hand around it, and the result will come on its own!¡±


    Luckily, Prof was too preoccupied with staying alive against the deadly assault to comment on Mini''s proposal. As deep in the gutter it was, with a slight alteration, it was surprisingly viable. Instead of molesting the breast with one hand, he shifted both to the neck, squeezing as hard as he could. Indeed, even relatively high-Level Elites needed to breathe, and soon Prof was holding a limp body in his hands.


    ¡°That was soooo¡­ embarrassing!¡± Mini clapped in the background ¡°Sharpclaw, applaud! The apprentice adventurer just defeated a chicken! Awesome!¡±


    ¡°It was a Level 7 Dire Hen! It tried to eat my eyes out!¡±


    ¡°Yes, and? It was a chicken! You killed more powerful monsters, what¡¯s your problem?¡±


    ¡°A chicken tried to kill me! Back home, that doesn¡¯t happen! We eat chicken!¡±


    ¡°Still not seeing the problem. It''s either eat or be eaten. You didn''t hang yourself up when those thingies in the Domain, or the cats, and spiders, wolves, and thingies in the Valley tried to eat you! You had no problems with the Slimes either!"


    ¡°We didn¡¯t have most of those back home, and the rest we didn¡¯t eat. Well, there were folks, who eat spiders and cats and stuff, but not generally. It is a principle: we eat chickens, not the other way around. Wild thingies either run away or get extinct. No one eats us, and definitely not chicken! That is it.¡±


    ¡°Oh, hear, hear, Sharpclaw! It¡¯s a principle! How many thingies would eat a Kobold?¡±


    ¡°All.¡±


    ¡°All right, Mini. How many critters would eat a Vampire?¡±


    ¡°If given the chance? Probably most carnivores and omnivores, but we don¡¯t give them the chance. We choke the chicken, beat the meat, squeeze the lizard, and generally abuse the shit out of everything. Vampires are superior that way.¡±


    ¡°I think, Vampires are perverts. Or is it just you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m certainly not a Pervert! See my Character Parchment! Does it say anywhere, that I''m a Pervert? No? See, even the Parchment says, I¡¯m not some deranged crazy!¡±


    Prof wanted to point out, that Mini''s Character Parchment clearly stated, that she was a deranged crazy but thought about the benefit of telling that to a Sociopathic, Narcissistic, Nimphomaniac just in time. He had to admit, that Pervert wasn¡¯t one of Mini¡¯s faults.


    Strangely.


    ¡°I see, Prof, you bow to my superior intellect and oratory! What now?¡±


    That statement could have been deconstructed quite easily, simply by stating, that Prof actually had a much higher [Convincing] and about the same [Oratory]. The Character Parchments were irrefutable proof, even before the court. Also, Prof''s Intelligence was higher, and so he realized sooner, that there was no use in arguing.


    ¡°What now? I tell you what now. Now it''s time for revenge! No chicken is going to eat this tourist, but this tourist will definitely eat chicken today! Mini, Sharpclaw, prepare a fire!"


    Starting a campfire in the Domain and in most of Earth countries probably violated a plethora of rules, as it was hunting and cooking endangered species, but Puglamento either had none of them (probably a reason, why The Plan wasn''t gaining ground; fining foreigners was a trusted and guaranteed income for the state coffers), or no one cared to implement them (most likely a reason, why The Plan wasn''t gaining ground).


    While Prof dismantled his catch (and Mini plucked some characteristic feathers from the Rooster), he realized an important point.


    ¡°Say, Mini. We are in a civilized country, and there ought to be patrols, and monsters should be extinct for some time already. How come, that a flock of Dire Hen is terrorizing a fox farmer?"


    ¡°If we were in Forestdeep, that would be normal. We take care of our environment, if we hunt dangerous stuff to extinction, they wouldn''t provide enough danger to us, and we would turn soft and complacent. Besides, it''s funny to release some droll monsters on the villages of the next estate. It''s common courtesy."


    Prof was already certain, he wouldn''t visit Forestdeep for the foreseeable future, but he was always surprised, at how far Foresteans went, and what ''common courtesy'' entailed there.


    ¡°I doubt, this shithole is organized well enough to do that. Well, and it''s boooooring. So, either the common corruption made the patrols look the other way, or the flock migrated from somewhere else. Well, it also could be a random magical influence on normal fowl, that could happen. One day, you have a cute little Terror Tiger, and the next day, it eats your leg. Happened."


    Of course, if the pet in question had a name, where both ¡®Terror¡¯ and ¡®Tiger¡¯ were included, it shouldn¡¯t have been a surprise that it had a snack. Probably no random magical influence was needed for that.


    In the case of the Dire Hen, they also could have been the machinations of a bored System Administrator. Or, if Prof were the protagonist of some mediocre novel, the brainchild of the author, trying to write a marginally funny scene and type a few chapters worth of words because he had no better idea.


    However, Arkadia had a very competent and fair Administrator, who wouldn¡¯t stoop so low as feed overcharged steroids to random poultry, and Prof wasn¡¯t living in a trashy novel.


    Prof had some ideas about how a whole Dire Hen could be made edible over an open fire ¨Cseasoned generously with hot spices and a stick through the posterior. He only hoped, his still-low [Cooking] was up for the task. On the other hand, it was a chicken, there was nothing easier to cook, than a chicken. Everyone could do that!


    As their meal looked ready, they were accosted by a local.


    ¡°Miau!¡±

 Chapter 21: The Chicken in the Foxcoop, Part 5

    ¡°Miau!" the local, an enormous white cat with a shredded ear, heterochromatic eyes, and missing patches of fur informed them. Prof was almost sure, the sound it made should have been ''meow'', but the cat was most likely speaking in some strange dialect too. Or had a too low Skill in [Speech: Cat]. With Arkadia, you couldn''t be sure about that NOT being an actual Skill.


    ¡°Miau, I said." the cat said, eyeing the steaming chicken. Cats had that certain look, where you could figure out without much of a problem, they wanted food. Even if you weren''t speaking the same language. While Prof liked cats in principle, feeding a strange pocket lion mostly led to excessive expenditure of cat food and a new transitional tenant in the house, however.


    ¡°Look, moron, I said ''Miau''. That means you give me food. Did you grow up in a cave or what? Gimme food, already, jackass!"


    ¡°Ehmmm¡­ Mini¡­ Did that cat just insult me in perfect literary Gerulian?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so. I haven¡¯t heard any insults, just truths stated. You are a moron and did grow up in a cave. His Gerulian is very good, though."


    ¡°What cat sssssaid? Sssstab cat?¡± obviously Sharpclaw started to have a certain mentality: if you had a dagger, everything looked like a kidney.


    ¡°Ohoho, what do have here? Stab-happy foreigner morons? From the Bergian lands? You, corpse-lady! Tell your boy toy and your dagger chick to calm the heck down and gimme food!"


    As it transpired, the cat was truly multilingual and switched from literary Gerulian to literary Bergian on the spot. Not, that he became any more polite. Probably even the opposite. Calling a proud Vampire noble a corpse lady wasn''t exactly nice, and why he assumed, Prof was her boy toy was pre-supposing at best, and offensive the worst. Why couldn''t Mini be Prof''s trophy wife or bed warmer? Mini certainly would have liked both versions.


    Well, and Prof being her boy toy even more so.


    ¡°He¡¯s right, Prof! You have the fortune to become the temporary servant of a Grimalkin, a noble and virtuous species from Forestdeep. And they are cute too! You can have so much fun with them!¡±


    ¡°If you try to pet me, I will scratch out your eyes, bimbo!¡± Mini, for some reason left out ¡®rude¡¯ from her description. Well, their new addition was a cat, after all, that character trait was mostly a given.


    ¡°That hasn''t even crossed my mind! Can we play Where Did That Kid Disappear To? We need at least two people for that, and these guys don''t let me play it in so-called ''cultured lands''. But with another Forestean around¡­"


    ¡°I think, it is time for introductions, respected feline traveler.¡± Prof immediately changed topics. Every time, Mini wanted to play some deranged Forestean game, he got the urge to run away. ¡°My name is Ferenc Hegyesi, Prof for short. My companions are the noble Minerva Pannonnii, master adventurer, and Sharpclaw Shakleton, stabbing specialist.¡±


    ¡°You forgot, Heir to the Throne of an estate!¡± Mini corrected.


    ¡°You are an heir?"


    ¡°Not exactly. But only a couple of people need to re-die, and I''m on the shortlist for inheritance!"


    ¡°Fantastic! A peasant, some hobo, and a wannabe heir, just my luck. Bow to my magnificence, mortals, because it is I, Prince D?nci Dundifia Selyemsz?r! Actual heir to the Estate of Barackos!¡±


    ¡°Wait a minute! Doesn¡¯t Selyemsz?r means¡­¡±


    ¡°If you continue that sentence, you cretin, you will regret your mom was ever born!¡±


    ¡°You said, the Estate of Barackos? If I''m not mistaken ¨C which I''m never ¨C your estate was conquered two years ago by the Elven Community of New Rapidwater-by-the-Stormy-Lake, and then conquered by the Skeleton insurrection of the Boner Brigade just last year. You don''t have an estate anymore, and thus aren''t an heir either! Hah! I''m more royalty, than you!"


    ¡°Actually, we re-conquered the estate from the Skeletons not long after. Unfortunately, we were then backstabbed by our former ally, Rhea the Treacherous. But, you know the Forestean Law: you are the king of your castle as long as you live!¡±


    ¡°Heh, you really believed that Nymph? Why do you think, she is named The Treacherous?! Aaaand, you don¡¯t have a castle anymore! Not even a shack!¡±


    ¡°Look, you leach, it''s metaphorical! As long as I have a tent and a place to erect it, I still have an Estate! I know of quite a few Lords and Ladies, who don''t even have that! Hah!¡±


    ¡°Do you have a tent?¡± Prof asked incredulously. The cat was indeed a well-prepared traveler, even if he didn¡¯t have opposable thumbs to build a tent, or the stowage capacity to transport one!


    ¡°No. It¡¯s metaphorical. I¡¯m a Grimalkin, why would I need a tent? Every peasant should be glad to give me food and shelter! Speaking of food¡­ That chicken turned into charcoal, you will need to cook me another.¡±


    Random conversations had the same magical effect everywhere in all the multiverses: you just wanted to say a few words, and before you knew it, even water was burned to ashes. Turning almost-ready Dire Hen on an open fire pit to charcoal was even easier ¨C especially, if the cook¡¯s [Cooking] was barely enough to put a can of beans into the microwave. The more intelligent people removed the food from the can first, for example.


    As for cooking another serving, Prince D?nci was out of luck. Whatever remained from the poultry after the battle, was cleaned up by Binky and Sleepy ¨C strangely, the Nightmare realized, there was free food around as soon as the action ended.


    ¡°We have jerky if you want." Prof, ever the Gentleman, wasn¡¯t going to send a talking cat away on an empty stomach.


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    ¡°Fine. That will suffice for the time. Peasant." why the Grimalkin insisted on constantly calling Prof a peasant, he didn''t understand. Only for a short time, though, then he remembered the Perk he picked up. Even if he was a rich man (although he still didn''t know, how to exchange his shiny pebbles for hard currency), every member of the nobility and royalty still looked down on him.


    The prince without an estate could do so as long as he liked, Prof doubted very much, that he would ever attend a Forestean social gathering.


    Well, and he could always look down on that penniless cat. Prof had the height advantage in that regard.


    ¡°So, D?nci, what are you doing here, so far from Forestdeep?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s Prince D?nci for you, peasant! I''m on my way to Fallaria, to enroll in their ¨C sub-par ¨C magical academy, and study [Magic: Curses], [Magic: Mental], and [Magic: Emotions]!"


    ¡°So you can go back and liberate your ancient home?¡±


    ¡°Are you retarded, moron? Why would I want to go back to that backwater dump? NO! I¡¯m planning to take over from that stupid bimbo of Fallarian empress and conquer the whole of West¡¯s End!¡±


    Obviously, Forestdeep had a habit of producing people with mental health issues. Mini was¡­ Mini and Prince D?nci was a rude megalomaniac. Well, and Binky a walking disaster.


    Of course, if a whole¡­ "country", in the absence of a better word, thought, constant utter chaos was a great idea and the strong had the right to do whatever they wanted, that bred a¡­ certain¡­ mindset. And weeded out the weak, completely useless, and totally crazy faster than the Elven secret police dispatched Travelers.


    Although Mini survived quite well.


    But then again, both Mini and the Prince were asked politely to leave the vicinity¡­


    ¡°Are you any good in magic?¡± Prof had no ulterior motives whatsoever. Who needed a mage (or any other dress fashion for magic-users)? Prof definitely not, his party was well-rounded and perfect as it was.


    Not really.


    ¡°Did you grow up in a cave or what, peasant? I¡¯m a Grimalkin!¡±


    ¡°I know, you are a Grimalkin, but that doesn¡¯t answer my question.¡±


    ¡°Prof, actually, it does. Grimalkin are the most magic-capable species on Arkadia!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s probably right for Mana Capacity, but what about the Skills?¡±


    ¡°You dare to question the Skills of the future Supreme Emperor of the Unified West¡¯s End, peasant?¡±


    ¡°Well, Arkadia works on Skills, so the details are important, no?¡±


    Either Prof''s Skill Check for [Convincing] or something was a critical success, or the cat was not loath to boast. Either that, or he was in dire need of free transportation, and hoped, he could hitch a ride from his maybe future subjects. Probably the latter, it was probably hard to walk long distances on stubby cat legs.


    Either way, the future Emperor sent his Character Parchment over.


    Mini was right, a Grimalkin was indeed a magical creature, D?nci had an insane number of Mana Points, easily three times as many, as Foxy had ¨C even considering, their newest walking mana battery was a Level 12 Boss. He was full of useful Perks for magic too, from extra efficiency to the removal of required gestures, spoken spells, and components.


    Well, D?nci was, after all, a cat, gestures and material components were probably hard to use on four legs.


    Of course, the Prince was a three-point Megalomaniac, and was Rude too¡­ And a Snob, which probably would have a nice synergy with Prof Parvenu in the future.


    As for Skills, he had [Magic: Fauna], [Magic: Summoning], [Chi: Kinetics] and [Sneaking] tagged, and at around 180% each. Not overwhelming for a Level 12, but still respectable. Otherwise, he invested heavily into "social" Skills, and had four languages (Forestean, Bergian, Gerulian, and Fallarian) at or markedly over 100%, as well as quite good [Literature], [Legends], [Law], [History], [Heraldics] and [Etiquette] ¨C mostly, but not only the Forestean versions. Obviously, this was how a well-educated person''s Character Parchment looked like.


    As for fighting or survival Skills¡­ he had [Unarmed Combat] at 120%, [Evade], [Acrobatics], and [Climbing] each at 110%. Being royalty probably didn''t lend itself to physical activities. A few of the Skills probably had something to do with D?nci basically being a cat, when everything was said.


    Most interesting was his Stat distribution. Next to a Strength of 5 and a Charisma of 7 were Dexterity and Agility at 22, Vitality at 20, Perception at 19, and Intelligence at 18. The other Stats were sitting safely around average too. Being a Boss gave that many extra Points to distribute ¨C and a Grimalkin probably got a few Points for this or that.


    All in all, Prof didn''t find anything suspicious, so the Prince probably wasn''t covering his tracks or some kind of criminal. Or a secret agent.


    But, well, nobility ¨C and by extension, royalty ¨C were probably schooled in subterfuge, collecting information and didn¡¯t advertise their true colors. The better ones, at least. The rest was most likely darwined out in short order or stayed in their little cottage, out of the way of grown-ups.


    Having an actually competent magic user on the team (and someone, who was even willing to cast spells), would have been quite a boon.


    On the other hand, having a Megalomaniac Snob as a traveling companion was probably not the best idea.


    Prof shot a glance at Mini and Sharpclaw. The latter just shrugged, as long as there was nothing to stab or nowhere to hide (in order to stab someone more efficiently), Sharpclaw was actually quite subservient. Prof was his boss (or superior, or something or other ¨C Prof still wasn''t able to figure out Reptile thinking), and if the boss said something, a good Kobold would go and stab it till death. Sometimes Prof would have been happy if Sharpclaw had more¡­ initiative? Was more¡­ proactive? Well, not those, that would have led to many more people with metal poisoning in their kidneys. It would have been nice if she participated more in the decision-making process.


    Mini just nodded enthusiastically. Given, that it was hard to have intercourse with a cat (for some strange reason, Prof assumed, Mini wanted to have such with basically everything¡­ They didn¡¯t talk about the Tree Incident), there was only one other reason, she wanted D?nci in the party: her other main hobby.


    Carnage and chaos, in other words, ''having fun''.


    So, it was probably not a good idea to travel with the Grimalkin.


    The decision was taken out of their hands, in the end.


    ¡°Freeze! You are under arrest for colluding with illegal nobility!¡±

 Chapter 21: The Chicken in the Foxcoop, Part 6

    That was a new one. The local commissar probably had taken part in an exchange program with an Elven multiple-letter agency to come up with such a novel way to fleece innocent tourists.


    While Puglamento did get rid of its nobility ¨C just to promote a new noble caste with a different name ¨C how could a foreigner be an illegal noble? From what he heard, the supreme leader wasn''t exactly keen on exporting his ideology ¨C the Greenskins would most likely kick his butt to the next multiverse ¨C and no one had any problems with Mini being a noble previously.


    ¡°D?nci, how could you be an illegal noble?¡± Prof asked the obvious question.


    ¡°It¡¯s Prince D?nci, peasant. Don¡¯t forget your place!¡±


    ¡°The illegal noble sneaked into our glorious country, and is trying to undermine the wisdom of the supreme leader!¡± the commissar informed them in more-or-less understandable Gerulian. At least Prof was reasonably sure, this was, what was said. He didn¡¯t know a few words, and some others had multiple meanings. That the commissar spoke in dialect, didn¡¯t help either.


    So it was either ¡®sneaking in¡¯ and ¡®undermining¡¯, or ¡®invading¡¯ and ¡®abusing¡¯. Prof was mostly sure, it was ¡®wisdom¡¯ and not ¡®backside¡¯.


    However, invading was done mostly with an army or a horde, not alone. On the other hand, a sufficiently high-level individual probably could manage to invade by himself ¨C there were enough precedents for that in the literature! Prof could name at least half a dozen main characters, who did invade other countries just for giggles ¨C or as an ideological crusade. Not counting the genocidal attacks against some ''Demon Lord'' or something.


    ¡°A true Forestean!¡± Mini congratulated the rival heir ¡°Rules are there only for the weak!¡±


    ¡°Mini, not helping! Ehm¡­ honored local commissar, the noble in question is a cat. Sneaking around is what they do. Besides, I very much doubt, he has any means to transport identifications. How do you even know, he is an illegal noble?" Since the commissar was the local authority, he most likely could look at everyone''s Character Parchment, but it was never a bad idea, to be sure. It was always possible, that Prof missed some important clue, out of sheer ignorance of the relevance.


    ¡°Not having identification is no excuse to sneak into a country and ferment discord against the supreme leader! The latter is explicitly against the law!¡±


    ¡°You sorry excuse for a noble, just so you know, I walked up to the border guard, and was sitting there patiently, but that uncultivated imbecile just chased me away! Without even giving me food! Back home, we would have strung him up by his intensities! What a badly run country! Wait, till I''m the Supreme Emperor!"


    ¡°HAH! You even continue to besmirch the glorious brilliance of our supreme leader?!? Insolent cat! You will hang for this! The rest of you! Surrender now, and we will be lenient!¡±


    ¡°Sssstab?¡± Sharpclaw poked Prof in the hip.


    ¡°No, not yet." Prof answered, and turned to the commissar "We are actually adventurers, and just met this person. We had nothing to do with invading, sneaking, and besmirching. Can we be on our way?"


    ¡°Of course not! Even if I believe you don¡¯t have anything to do with this criminal, I will still check your credentials! You are all under arrest!¡±


    Even if Prof and his party weren''t prepared to slaughter their way out of the situation (Mini probably would have liked that, though), Prof was really curious, about how a Level 12 Boss was arrested by a Level 9 Elite ¨C he remembered in time to use [Observe] on the commissar. Even back on Earth, cats, who didn''t want to be caught, were mostly not caught; here, on Arkadia, he wished good luck to the local authority.


    The answer to that particular question was to throw warm bodies at the problem ¨C as countless generals, and politicians, who wanted to be re-elected found out throughout history. Why commit fraud and think about tactics, when you can simply cart enough people to the action and point them in the right direction?


    Maybe, just maybe, the commissar should have brought the army in ¨C those folks were accustomed to being pointed at a pillbox and ordered to block the firing hole with their corpses ¨C but he elected to raise a levy out of common peasants and fox farmers. If a Level 9 Elite had problems with catching an over-leveled talking cat, Level 5 Normals were even less useable.


    Using a net would have probably helped with the task, but for some strange reason, villages far away from rivers and lakes had a marked deficit in fishing implements.


    The locals weren¡¯t completely moronic, though, and brought a few sacks with them ¨C while those were (probably) good for holding a cat, catching one still wasn¡¯t easy.


    ¡°This looks like fun! Can we help?¡± Of course, Mini wasn¡¯t satisfied with standing aside under the watchful gaze of a local dignitary, who she could have had for breakfast. Literally. Being bored didn¡¯t prevent her from striking poses, though. With her ¡°adventurer clothing¡±, there were quite a few peasants, who concentrated more on her bare skin, than on catching the elusive princeling.


    ¡°Help the locals or the cat?¡± Prof tried to clarify the question.


    ¡°Yes.¡± pointlessly.


    ¡°Look, Mini. If we help the cat, we would be branded criminals, and would have to flee this fine country! Think about the body count!"


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m doing that right now! Imagine a high-speed chase, where you run over pedestrians and army patrols! It would be fantastic! Bodyparts flying everywhere! Blood! Gore! And we would be away from this booooooring plot of land, they call a country! AWESOME!¡±


    ¡°Missssster can¡¯t drive wagon, Misssss. Sssshort chasssse.¡±


    ¡°You are part right, Sharpclaw. Imagine Prof flipping over on the first straight stretch of road! Sooooo funny!¡±


    ¡°Mini, sometimes I don¡¯t really know, what¡¯s wrong with you¡­¡±


    ¡°Nothing is wrong with me. I¡¯m a perfectly perfect Vampire, just so you know!¡±


    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s what I¡¯m afraid of¡­¡±


    ¡°You three! Adventurers! Help us catch that illegal noble! Your sentence will be lowered!¡±


    ¡°What sentence? We are just innocent spectators! We did nothing!¡±


    ¡°Poaching Dire Hens, colluding with known criminals, subversive activities, spying, loitering!¡±


    ¡°We were here just to buy booze for the Hogs!¡±


    ¡°Ah! Illegal commerce!¡±


    ¡°Sir, are you by any chance an Elf?¡±


    ¡°Insulting a commissar!¡±


    ¡°If we surrender now, can I have shackles? They are fun!¡±


    ¡°Mini, not now! Sir, what would the Supreme Leader say, if you arrest innocent foreigners?!¡±


    ¡°He would congratulate me for finding a spy network, catching saboteurs, and seizing their ill-gotten means! For the glory of the Supreme Leader!"


    That was it. Prof could stomach quite a few things ¨C even porridge ¨C but he drew a line in the sand when folks tried to legalese his stuff away. He worked hard for every last splinter of precious stone, iron bit, and piece of gear! He even paid taxes for most of it! Not even Mini was so cruel as to take his loot away, and she had the Perk for it!


    ¡°That¡¯s it. Mini, Sharpclaw, saddle up, we are outa here!¡±


    ¡°Finally! FUN! Let the chase begin!¡±


    ¡°Where do you think you are going?!?! You are under arrest!¡±


    ¡°You are welcome to try to stop us. We are highly trained adventurers!¡± That was actually a white-ish lie, no one would have used the phrase ¡®highly trained¡¯ in connection with Prof¡¯s band of randomly collected people. They were at best ¡®almost not completely untrained¡¯. However, their level of incompetentness was benevolently covered by their passable Levels. And two quite well-trained carnivorous mounts.


    Well, actually, the party wasn¡¯t that bad or incompetent. They had quite a few Skills on a reasonable Level (not talking about Mini¡¯s [Sex]), and compared to the locals (who were still futilely trying to catch Prince D?nci), they were literal foxes in a chicken coop.


    Ehm¡­ Dire Hens in a fox coop.


    They had slaughtered their way through¡­ fantasy-versions of dinosaurs, Wolves, and the occasional bandit encampment, escaped the Valley of Torment, and even defeated the one-person cabal of an evil not-Guildmaster in an almost fair fight.


    What could a lone commissar do? Looking at the levy, they gave off the impression, they wanted to be somewhere else. Preferably with Mini, doing some other things.


    At least, they weren¡¯t whistling or catcalling ¨C probably the folks doing that didn¡¯t get the chance to propagate stupidity and impoliteness.


    ¡°COMMISSAR! The illegal noble escaped!" one of the locals informed their overlord. Prof just caught the sight of D?nci making a rude gesture from the treeline, and wondered, how that was even anatomically possible before a more pressing issue surfaced.


    ¡°In the name of the Supreme Leader! Arrest these three for¡­ some crimes I will come up with!¡±


    ¡°Three? There are only two of them!¡±


    ¡°Where did the short one go?¡±


    ¡°Clawsssss to the ballssssss.¡± Sharpclaw displayed some remarkable initiative by sneaking around and displaying her ultimate technique on the family jewels of an evil-doer, threatening to nationalize her bellowed master¡¯s¡­ jewelry.


    ¡°Honored commissar, it pains me that it has come to this, and I''m truly sorry. However, I regret to inform you, that this transgression of the law you subjected us to, can''t be tolerated and suffered. We will now load up the promised, agreed-upon, and worked-for booze, and we will be on our way. Be assured, that we will expedite our exit from your fine country, not to cause further outcry from the Supreme Leader''s finest people. Keep working for the Goal, as the supreme leader commanded!"


    Being polite was always a good idea ¨C and Prof had the Perk, so it came to him naturally ¨C even to commissars, who wanted to steal legitimate salvage. Well, especially to those folks. With enough politeness, they hopefully thought about fining other, more rude people. Or people, who didn¡¯t have stealthy Kobolds with them¡­


    Loading up the booze and getting the Hogs sufficiently drunk took only a few minutes after the strangely very pale commissar (very carefully) nodded his agreement to Prof¡¯s proposition.


    ¡°See, every situation can be defused with a little bit of politeness," Prof informed his party members. Of course, he wasn''t dumb enough not to take Sharpclaw¡¯s ultimate technique into account, but it was good to give a good example for the less¡­ mentally stable.


    ¡°Yeah, you are free to think that¡±. Mini patted his head. ¡°So, we are officially fugitive criminals. Can we do some carnage?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°At least a little bit of reckless driving? A hit-and-run?¡±


    ¡°No! At least not deliberately.¡±


    ¡°Missssster jussssst hit a dog, and drove on. Countssss?¡±


    ¡°Naw¡­ Not really. Maybe we can find some pedestrians or an army patrol, and let Prof accidentally run them over.¡±


    ¡°I''m not running anyone over! Why do you insist I do it anyway?!?!"


    ¡°Because you can''t drive. We are just stating facts, and are betting, on what you will do to whom in the next hundred kilometers."


    ¡°You are betting on some catastrophe I will accidentally cause? Why?!?!?¡±


    ¡°Bored. Missssster makessss travel lesssss boring.¡±


    ¡°See, he just knocked a signpost over! That was less, than two hundred meters! Five points for me! Look, a bridge! Do I get another twenty?"


    ¡°Don¡¯t be so cruel, Mini¡­¡±


    ¡°Hey, it¡¯s in my nature! See, even my Character Parchment says so!¡±


    ¡°Whatever¡­¡±


    ¡°Miau! Before you morons misunderstand, ¡®miau¡¯ means, I require transportation.¡±


    ¡°What do we have here? An illegal noble, who left us to rot in the clutches of a commissar?" Prof was a little bit annoyed with the cat, just sitting on a stump next to the road. D?nci could have been at least polite and asked for a lift. Prof had the distinct feeling, that letting the disgraced Prince join them wasn''t the best idea anyone on Arkadia ever had. Having a crazy Vampire and a stab-happy Kobold was most likely enough for any sane person, adding a rude, crazy, and criminal Grimalkin to the party was just inviting trouble.


    ¡°You imbeciles took long enough to sort that small issue out. Hop, hop, the road waits for no one!¡±


    ¡°What about asking nicely? A little bit of politeness never killed anyone.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on, Prof! This will be fun! What could possibly go wrong, anyway?¡±

 Chapter 22: The Promised Land of Eternal Nice Weather, Part 1

    It was actually strange, but nothing went wrong in the two days, they traveled Puglamento''s roads. Either the commissar didn''t have the means to call the cavalry, or he decided, discretion was the better part of valor, and didn''t advertise his failure to acquire monetary means for the state. Or himself.


    Ehmm¡­ failure of not arresting illegal nobles and innocent adventurers.


    It was either one of those two reasons or the call for help went under in a classical badly-run medieval bureaucracy. It was also possible, that the cavalry was indeed called, the call wasn''t ignored by the person, who sent the help on the way, but the authorities arrested the wrong party of a Human, a Vampire, and a Kobold.


    It happened before.


    Well, it probably happened on Arkadia before, it was almost a common composition for an adventuring party, but it most definitely happened on Earth. Not with Vampires and Kobolds, but still.


    ¡°One last push, and we will enter the picturesque country of Julia¡± Prof informed them, as they waited in line at the border post. It was indeed a small little push, barely five wagons long ¨C and Prof hoped, there would be no trouble from the border guards. They were leaving Puglamento, after all, and the guards usually were only interested in folks entering.


    ¡°Is this as booooooring as the last one?¡± Mini asked.


    ¡°The travel guide says, it has notable architecture, awesome natural wonders, and a unique culture. So¡­"


    ¡°I see. Boring as the last one. Oh, wait! Unique culture? Do they have daily orgies or manhunts?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so. They are Garuli too. Let¡¯s see¡­ They have these little squares in every town, where the locals get drunk and play Blood Ball every fifth day.¡±


    ¡°Hah! These peasants call it a unique culture?!?! We do this every other day back home! As soon as I become Supreme Emperor, I will remedy this farce!¡±


    ¡°You play Blood Ball in Forestdeep? I thought it was some Western sport."


    ¡°Prof, we don¡¯t play that game. It¡¯s too peaceful for us, but we have a lot of fun sports! Hack-the-loser is a classic!


    ¡°Slice and Dice!¡±


    ¡°Spikeball!¡±


    ¡°Fireball!¡±


    ¡°Baseball!¡±


    ¡°And the losing team usually gets sacrificed in some important ritual.¡±


    ¡°Or we get Skeletons for cheap. No sense of wasting good boners!¡±


    The more Prof learned about Forestdeep, the more sure he was, that he wouldn''t, ever, visit the natural wonders, unique culture, and picturesque ruins in that stretch of Arkadia. While it was the quintessence of an enchanted forest, full of almost-extinct species and truly unique monsters¡­ Well, that was it. Only murderhobos, battle maniacs, or suicidal people would go willingly there.


    Prof was neither.


    He would have been content with some non-haunted small castle at the seaside, and making occasional voyages to nice and peaceful countries to visit the ruins of the not-so-nice and not-so-peaceful past of said country.


    Maybe running a dungeon or two for spending money.


    Constant danger in the ''country'' of battle maniacs? No, thank you.


    ¡°Thank you for visiting our glorious, noble-free country! Come back soon!" Prince D?nci could have taken the example of the puglamentese border guard. Not, that Prof was keen on returning¡­


    ¡°Thank you for visiting our glorious, noble-rich country! Do you have anything to declare?¡± the julianese border guard was equally polite. Not, that Prof wanted to declare anything.


    ¡°We are just passing through.¡± He informed the roadside toll collector.


    ¡°And we are adventurers. Nothing to declare here. At least nothing, we want to declare." Mini wasn''t all that helpful there. Informing official officials, that someone had something, they wanted to hide mostly led to said official officials doing a thorough search of every possible cavity.


    ¡°Oh, we should do a throughout searching of your vehicle and bags! Hope, you don¡¯t mind.¡± it came as Prof feared. Will he have to pay taxes for his legitimate salvage again? Would he be robbed blind by official officials, doing official things and quoting official regulations?


    ¡°Of course, we mind. According to the Adventurer''s Guild''s international charter, adventurers in the presence of a Master Adventurer ¨C like myself ¨C are exempt from searches by the authorities. A search would be considered an assault on the adventurers¡­ Wait! Please, try to search us! I''m booooored!"


    After a little bit of brainstorming ¨C and asking the captain ¨C the guards decided, that a search (and providing a bored Vampire with fun) wasn¡¯t strictly necessary. However, Prince D?nci wasn¡¯t an adventurer, and like every frustrated guard, who found a loophole, they descended on the Grimalkin.


    ¡°You aren¡¯t an adventurer, we can search you! Please show your belongings!¡±


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    ¡°Miau?¡± D?nci said, trying ¨C not very successfully ¨C to act cute. Maybe he should have put some Skill Points into [Acting]¡­


    ¡°He is basically a cat.¡± Prof informed the guard ¡°Where would a cat transport belongings?¡±


    ¡°Bag of Holding? Personal luggage space? There are dozens of means to transport belongings! You won¡¯t be able to outsmart me!¡±


    Prof somewhat doubted that. Folks with high Intelligence rarely chose a career, composed of standing around at border posts in the middle of nowhere and occasionally harassing random cats. Their chosen field of work mostly included a desk in a cozy office, three warm meals a day, and a lack of back-breaking activities.


    Of course, the guard could have had Skills or Perks, that helped with not being outsmarted. Actually, there was one Perk, Resistance: Smarts, but it probably did something different.


    As it transpired, D?nci indeed had some personal dimension or something, where he stashed quite a bit of stuff. It was actually a Perk of the species, called a Stash. With that kind of cryptic name, it was no wonder, Prof hadn¡¯t figured out what the Perk did earlier.


    D?nci''s stash included quite a bit of currency ¨C Prof spied Bergian, Elven, Greenskinian, and a few other, unidentifiable coins ¨C a collection of books, food enough for a party of ten and a week, and miscellaneous clutter. Including, but not limited to jewelry, potions, a cat-sized crown, dried herbs, and a comb.


    Prof was quite sure, he hadn''t seen such a Perk when he re-invented himself in the afterlife office, and neither was it included in the rulebooks, he bought in Ostwaldland.


    ¡°Nice Perk. Say, Mini, why wasn¡¯t it included in the rulebook?¡±


    ¡°Why would it be? It''s an exclusive Perk for only a few species, Grimalkin has it as default, I think, Specters or Ghosts can choose it, and maybe some bird people. No one else has access to it. Unfortunately. Imagine, how much fun you could have with it!"


    Prof remembered the bird people from the rulebooks ¨C there was everything from tiny hummingbird-looking critters to huge, three-meter-tall terror birds. Of course, he wasn''t able to figure out anything about their habitats ¨C not, that he was overly interested in any species besides Humans when he died. In the books he read, Humans were the most prolific species in all the multiverses. Maybe second only to rats, slimes, and lawyers. Well, that would be fourth, but anyway.


    The fugitive Prince was actually lucky in that he didn''t need to pay an excessive amount for transporting his stuff ¨C and nothing was impounded either. It only took half an hour of detailed valuation ¨C Prof suspected, the actual Skill was in play ¨C for the guards to be satisfied.


    There remained only one question.


    ¡°D?nci, why do you always demand food, when you have enough for weeks in your transport space? We aren''t free food dispensers!"


    ¡°It¡¯s Prince D?nci, peasant. How often do I need to tell you that? I demand food because you are too stupid or lazy to provide it by yourself, as you should. Pampering your future Supreme Emperor should come easy even to you, cave dweller. That reminds me¡­ See that comb? Use it! I haven''t had a good brush for days!"


    ¡°Oh, the silken fur got dirty?¡±


    ¡°I will scratch out important organs if you try to be funny again!"


    ¡°You can safely disregard his reproductive organs.¡± Mini was helpful as always ¡°He doesn¡¯t do anything with them. The brain¡­ also not much used. Try the tongue! Less whining and complaining!¡±


    Prof wisely decided to whine and complain about his party members regarding him as a whiner and complainer wouldn''t solve anything, and just concentrated on getting his carriage moving.


    Without flattening the guards, the guard post, or a nearby campfire.


    The barrier on the other side of the road was still driven over. While being behind the wagon, and Prof driving forward.


    Obviously, that experience was enough, because as soon as the whole party was safely on Julianese territory, the much-awaited red exclamation mark started flashing. It was indeed time for the next, well-placed and hard-worked-for Level Up! It felt like months of endless goofing around, without much importance happening since the last time. In some trashy novel, dozens of Chapters would have passed, while in reality, it was only a week or two.


    Anyways¡­


    The first thing Prof was greeted with was a notification of a new, awesome Perk!


    <u>Attention!</u>


    Because running over people, animals, things, and random features of geography, botany, and hydrography, all the while driving a massively over-powered Hog-wagon, and without having any useable Skill in doing so, you have been gifted with the Perk: Road Warrior! From now on, running things over would be much easier, and you will do much more damage to them! Witness!


    Prof somehow expected a new Perk, that was more tied to what he did in the last few months. Constantly learning new languages ¨C simply because the stupid Arkadians couldn''t settle on a common language, everyone spoke ¨C looting stuff, being smart and polite, or traveling his new world.


    But no.


    The System Administrator wasn''t only a moron, but a jackass too! After barely a few days of trying to reign his Hogs in (and getting them drunk) and trying NOT to run stuff over, the Perk he got made it actually easier to flatten stuff! Mentioning that one time, when he actually ran some hydrography over was just¡­ cruel. Besides, that stream looked all right afterward.


    At least he got those juicy Skill Points as a consolation ¨C 25% each went immediately into [Speech: Western Common] and [Speech: Fellarian]. Only a short time in Gerulian lands proved to him, that at least 50% was needed in a language to be able to marginally function. He planned to stay in the Fallarian¡­ Kingdom? Empire? State? for some time, getting the language known early on was important. [Culture], [Laws], [Etiquette], and other social Skills could wait for a bit. He still had some weaknesses to shore up.


    20% each went into [Parry] and [Block] to reduce the difference to [Evade]. There was still quite a bit of disparity, but it started to look good with 89% to 201%.


    The left-over 20% went into [Driving], bringing it up to 52% - he collected some points on the way. When you have a Perk, that helps you run stuff over, you should make sure, you have enough Skill to NOT run stuff over, you don''t want to be run over.


    It was just logical.


    As with every Level Up, Prof got flooded with new information. New phrases, words, and connotations from the two language Skills, how to deflect or stop different attacks, and how to actually make drunken Hogs walk in a marginally straight way.


    It was a pity, that Earth didn''t have such a convenient system in place, and one had to learn everything the hard way.


    Obviously, Prof wasn¡¯t the only one, who collected enough experience, though.


    I Leveled! It¡¯s party time!¡±

 Chapter 22: The Promised Land of Eternal Nice Weather, Part 2

    ¡°We are on the road, in the middle of nowhere. I don''t think, this is the best location for a party." Prof hoped Mini would forget her idea until they reached some party-friendly location. Surely, medieval towns didn''t have a party mile.


    ¡°You can party everywhere. Look, there are merchants and travelers over there, and even guards! Guards love to party! Come on!¡±


    ¡°Vulgar bloodsucker! Your future Supreme Emperor needs to get to his future empire in a speedy fashion! We don¡¯t have time to stop for a party. I have lost enough time because this peasant can¡¯t drive for shit.¡±


    ¡°Hey! I¡¯m not vulgar!¡±


    ¡°Hey! I¡¯m not a peasant! Stop that already! And I just got a nice Perk for driving!¡±


    ¡°You did? Let me see! Oh, that¡¯s a nice one! Let¡¯s try it out! Now! Look! There are merchants and travelers over there, and even some guards!¡±


    ¡°What about your Leveling Party?¡±


    ¡°Oh, we can do both! Every good party has some funny casualties! On one of the Duke''s coronation anniversaries, we made a contest, about who could fall out of the tower window in the funniest way! It was hilarious!"


    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t that mean, the guests started to die on you?¡±


    ¡°Naw. Most were undead, to begin with, or had a high enough Level to survive the fall. If I''m not mistaken, only one person died, and that was because he landed head-first on some spears. That was especially funny!"


    ¡°Oh, I remember that incident!¡± D?nci added ¡°He was the president of Barna¨¢rt¨¦r, and with his death, every neighbor wanted a piece of his estate. It was glorious! Then the Priory got somehow involved, and everyone started to fight them, which brought the Archmages of¡­¡±


    Prof tuned out the rest. Politics was one thing, but Forestean politics was even below that. Obviously, everyone got bored, if there wasn¡¯t wholesale bloodshed and utter chaos for a few days. Mini was a prime example.


    Probably.


    At least, recalling some awesome party where a lot of estates participated in the festivities was enough to distract Mini from her upcoming Leveling Party or from running some unfortunate passerby over. Strangely, both fell under the same category for the Vampire. Prof knew only very little Forestean, but from what he knew, the same word was used for ''party'' and ''slaughter''.


    A strange culture, half of his companions came from.


    As the two Foresteans bantered on about some fun party or little war (they were nice enough to do it in Bergian), Prof surveyed the new country.


    Having actual nobles instead of nobles, calling themselves something else, made the country better managed.


    Marginally.


    The dirt tracks, called roads by the locals were a little bit more well-maintained, meaning, that there was some actual road surface between potholes, puddles, and randomly distributed rocks. Not even a Central European would call the resulting mess a road, though, but that stretch of land already left the Middle Ages behind.


    Barely.


    The tilled fields looked more cared for too ¨C well, it was hard to notice the difference between unkempt and cared for furrows in the landscape, but with a high enough Perception (11 was above average, after all!) one could spot the plots of weed, left in place, unnecessary shrubs and leftover clutter on the former.


    Of course, if someone crossed the border between Central and Western Europe, the same difference could be observed too. Since Prof made that particular border-crossing a few times, he learned, what to look for.


    As for the locals¡­ Well, almost starving peasants looked the same everywhere. Well, the Julianese almost starving peasants at least looked somewhat better fed, clothed, and billeted. Some of the Gerulian pyramids even had decorations!


    Especially the richer ones made out of stones and probably belonging to nobles. A few could even boast to have ornamental gardens.


    All in all, Julia gave a more comfortable feeling, than Puglamento did.


    Probably not needing to voice the support for the Supreme Leader every few minutes left the locals with enough energy to do actual work, and leave random tourists to do tourist stuff.


    Like crossing their country in an expedited manner.


    One thing Prof found absolutely ridiculous was the Gerulian custom of high heels for males ¨C the higher the heel, the higher the social status. Females, on the other hand, wore flat shoes without exception. Even the few noble ladies and NCOs he saw, wore normal shoes. Whether it was because Gerulian females had a low social status or it was just fashion, Prof wasn''t able to determine.


    Since the overwhelming majority of males on Earth didn¡¯t wear high heels independently of social status, and obviously Gerulian females had different social statuses, it was probably just a fashion choice.


    A funny one, but still.


    For example, in the first real town they entered, Prof almost choked while trying not to laugh, when he saw an obese merchant trying to take a few steps in ten-centimeter heels.


    Mini and D?nci weren¡¯t so well-behaved, and let the laughter fly.


    Seeing a cat rolling on the seat, laughing hard was another weird, almost twisted experience, Prof never suspected he would have. He almost felt his EXP-bar filling just from those few minutes.


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Obviously, laughing at folks in high heels wasn''t exactly polite. Especially in a country, where high heels equaled high social status, and where people in said higher social strata took offense at being laughed at by flat-footed peasants.


    One of them didn¡¯t even have shoes!


    That wasn¡¯t exactly hard, very few (well, basically no) shoe manufacturers made high-heeled boots for cats or Grimalkin. The market simply wasn¡¯t there.


    ¡°You! Peasants! You dare to laugh at the exalted Leonardo Grasso?!? Guards! Teach them their places!¡±


    Normally, there would be two possible outcomes for such a declaration: most likely, the main character would beat up the offending noble, or sometimes he would get an educational beat-down, just for getting revenge later on.


    In this case, nothing like that happened.


    First, Prof simply threw the Grimalkin to the wolves ¨C or rather to the guards.


    ¡°You can teach the Grimalkin. I would throw you a Vampire too, but she is too heavy, and her over-leveled Scorpionlizard would take offense."


    ¡°I¡¯m not too heavy! Your Strength is too low!¡±


    ¡°How dare you throw Prince D?nci, future Supreme Emperor of the West around?!? You, peasants! Place me back on my carriage so I can scratch out important organs!"


    ¡°This isn¡¯t your carriage, D?nci! It¡¯s my wagon! You can discuss laughing at the fat merchant with his guards! Leave me out of this!¡±


    ¡°Me speak Bergian! You itinerant agrarian worker rude to me!¡± The merchant supplied.


    ¡°Sssssstab fatssssy?¡±


    ¡°Why are there ghostly cats converging on me?!¡±


    ¡°Those aren¡¯t cats, you stupid slab of fat! Those are miniature Sabertooth!¡±


    ¡°D?nci! Stop summoning!¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t tell me, what to do, peasant!¡±


    ¡°You! Peasant! Are you trying to attack me with ghost cats?!?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a prince, you overly fat turd!¡±


    Before the situation descended into battle ¨C most likely to Mini¡¯s chagrin, who was already leveling her crossbow at the merchant ¨C the town guard arrived.


    ¡°Everybody freeze! What¡¯s this disturbance?¡±


    ¡°Honored guards, this exalted merchant ordered his guards to attack us!¡± Prof took point in the negotiation ¡°See, one of them is even holding Prince D?nci of the Estate of Barackos hostage! Please save us innocent traveling adventurers from the clutches of this band of evil-doers!¡±


    Prof was warned enough times not to lie to official officials, since there were a few different lie-detector Perks, trinkets, and [Magic: Mental] was a thing too. Every last word he said, was technically true ¨C the whining voice may have been a little bit overboard though.


    Well, if he were some decorative, scantly clad female (displaying a lot of cleavage), it may have been appropriate, but, well¡­


    On the other hand, Prof doing a bimbo-impersonation was probably the best choice. Neither D?nci nor Sharpclaw could pull that off for obvious reasons, and Mini was¡­ Mini.


    ¡°A lie! These low lives insulted me, the exalted Leonardo Grosso and that peasant even threw the cat at my bodyguards! They summoned ghostly apparitions and threatened us with that over-leveled Scorpionlizard! I demand satisfaction!!!"


    Obviously, a veteran merchant also learned, not to tell outright lies, while still bending the truth. Who would have thought? They weren''t on the level of a lawyer but were nonetheless quite close.


    The constable visibly worked all his brain cells and came up with the most obvious and time-tried solution.


    ¡°I will arrest all of you, so the judge can sort out the truth!¡±


    Off-loading issues or work to someone else, when solving the situation would take too much time or energy was done everywhere in all the multivereses.


    Of course, Prof wasn''t stupid. Believing, that a so-called independent, impeccable, and incorruptible court in a medieval world would judge against a rich and influential local against some vagabonds was like believing the Easter Bunny brought the presents on Christmas.


    Not even the courts back on Earth were that trustworthy.


    Prof faced the question, of wether to run (again) or bribe the judge.


    Of course, he also could flex all his Gentleman, use [Oratory], [Convincing], [Law: Gerulian], [Etiquette: Gerulian], with maybe a little bit of [Con].


    Well, he could also plead insanity ¨C trying to use all those Skills, he was more or less useless in, would amount to the same.


    Running, though, would amount to leaving his fantastic ¨C for the amount he paid for everything, it had to be fantastic ¨C carriage behind. And probably Mini and Binky too. While Binky was very proficient in munching on stuff, speed was not his forte. Loading up Sharpclaw and maybe D?nci on Sleepy and engaging flight speed was doable, but not exactly gentlemanly. Abandoning highly prized gear was a waste, and no gentleman would do that!


    As for now, they followed the guard to see the honest and well-learned judge.


    ¡°Say, Prof. What does your travel guide say about the picturesque, scenic, delightful, and romantic dungeon of¡­ this place? Where are we exactly, anyways?" Mini asked with a smile on her face. Of course, she had to use questionable synonyms too.


    ¡°This, my dear Vampire with mental health issues is the lovely town of Andale del Aqua Rapide. Once it had one of the best Blood Ball teams in the Seven Kingdoms, until the stadium collapsed. The ruins are said to be very picturesque indeed. As for the dungeon¡­ It is situated beneath the charming town hall, itself a wonder of Gerulian pyramidal architecture, the entrance balustrade is adorned with the deeds of the founder of the Western Gerulian countries, copied by most town halls hereabouts. It¡¯s an original Malerotti. It is even enchanted, the sculptures doing movements.¡± Prof summarized the few pages about the town.


    ¡°Do you think, they have chains in the dungeons? Would we strung up? Kinky games?¡±


    ¡°Why do you think, we will be thrown into the dungeon? We haven¡¯t even seen the judge yet!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t remember you being Na?ve. Well, we still could set fire to the town, slaughter everyone standing in our way, and do some looting on our way out. That would be fun too! I haven¡¯t been to a nice dungeon for some time, though.¡±


    ¡°Vulgar bloodsucker! Get your mind out of the gutter! Of course, we will spread carnage! No one could say, true Foresteans just rolled over!¡±


    ¡°Sssstab?¡±


    ¡°Come on, guys! Let¡¯s see the judge first!¡±


    Not long after, they were led to the final arbiter of Gerulian law ¨C an obese male with a striking similarity to the merchant, who started the whole issue.


    ¡°Leonardo! Good to see you today! I wanted to ask if our game of punting-sheep-droppings-into-a-hole is still on for the weekend. Guiseppina would be delighted if you and the kids would come over afterward!"

 Chapter 22: The Promised Land of Eternal Nice Weather, Part 3

    Bribing officials followed a well-defined mathematical equation, where the seriousness of the crime (or hoped-for business), the honesty of the official, the current political situation, even the weather, and the content and amount of the official''s last meal were represented by variables.


    Of course, if the official had some personal stake in the issue ¨C say, for example, being related to one of the sides ¨C it also had a place in the equation.


    If, for example, one side consisted of honored, well-known adventurers, and the other side of close relatives, one side had to pay considerably more, than the other.


    Since Prof¡¯s collection of misfits could not, by any stretch of the meaning called honored or well-known (well, certain constables probably had signed pictures of some, with a nice round number under the picture), and were only adventurers for tax-avoidance purposes, the sum most likely came up to exorbitant levels.


    Prof started to get a feeling, of what the unique, Gerulian culture, the travel guide spoke of was. So far, they visited two Gerulian countries, and in both, they were accosted by officials for made-up things. It was the Domain all over again. Well, without all the speciesism and xenophobia. At least the Elves spent the money, they got from unsuspecting tourists on important things like roads, working infrastructure, and prepared camping grounds.


    The Gerulians probably just got fat and bought fancy high heels.


    Not, that Prof was overly surprised by the officials lining their own pockets, and letting public works safely sit at the bottom of the to-do list. Not, that Earth (and especially certain parts of it) was any different.


    ¡°So, dear brother, what brings you here today?¡± the judge asked.


    ¡°These low-lives insulted and attacked me in broad daylight! I demand satisfaction!¡± the merchant declared.


    ¡°All right, the case is clear as it is. I declare full seizure of assets and expulsion from the town! Case closed!" The multiverses probably never saw such a quick and impartial court case.


    ¡°Honored judge! While I understand your position on the current issue, don¡¯t we have a right to defend our position?¡±


    ¡°Oh, yes, you have the right to do that. Continue, foreigner vagrant.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a Prince!¡±


    ¡°And I¡¯m the possible heir to my estate!¡±


    ¡°We aren¡¯t vagrants!¡± the two Forestean protested, forgetting to small issue, that they were vagranting about in a van, making money out of robbing innocent dungeons, random bandits, and low-effort adventuring work.


    ¡°Sush, not helping!¡± Prof interrupted them ¡°As I was saying, me and my companions were traveling South, to do important adventuring work, minding our own business, when the esteemed merchant to my right let his goons attack us without grounds. They even took the prince here hostage and demanded money.¡±


    ¡°I see¡­" the judge deliberated "After carefully investigating the circumstances and the statements of the opposing parties, I declare the foreigner vagrant adventurers at fault for insulting and attacking my dear brother in broad daylight. The sentence is the full seizure of assets and expulsion from the town."


    ¡°See, Prof, this is why you have to do things the proper way. That is, my way.¡± Mini informed him ¡°A little bit of carnage can solve most problems. If it doesn¡¯t solve the problems, you didn¡¯t inflict enough carnage. Sharpclaw, you may start stabbing.¡±


    ¡°Hold on a second!" Prof was fairly certain, that inflicting carnage on a town hall wasn''t a solution to their current ¨C or any ¨C problems. Quite likely, it did the opposite. If it did solve problems, everyone, across all the multiverses would do it, no? "I invoke a conflict of interests! I demand a new judge!"


    ¡°Bad luck, I¡¯m the only judge in town, only the local Baron or the town major could overrule my decision. Now, hand over your assets and be prepared for expulsion!¡±


    ¡°Over my cold corpse!¡± Mini cried out ¡°Well, I¡¯m all right with expulsion from this boooooring town.¡±


    ¡°Mini, you do realize, you are room temperature and technically a corpse?¡± Prof tried to point out a slight contradiction in Mini¡¯s statement.


    ¡°Right, you are right. Since I¡¯m dead, getting my stuff would be considered grave robbing!¡±


    ¡°You aren¡¯t in a grave, but walking around, cadaver.¡±


    ¡°D?nci, you well know, that according to Forestean custom, any place, where a corpse is found, is considered a grave. Try to explain to any Lich or Bone Knight, their castle isn''t technically a grave! Since I''m here, this courtroom will be considered a crypt!"


    ¡°You are undead, not dead. You can¡¯t grave rob an undead, who is walking around!¡± a vein on the judge¡¯s forehead started to stand out.


    ¡°Of course you can! I¡¯m doing that all my life! Besides, you are squatting in my crypt right now! I will call the guards!¡±


    ¡°This my courtroom, not your crypt! It is located in the town hall, belonging to Baron Torre E Bassotto! You are squatting here! I will call the guards!¡±


    ¡°So, your little baron is hiding corpses in his town hall?!? Besides, I¡¯m not squatting, I¡¯m just standing around!¡±


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    ¡°Of course, he hides corpses, he is a Baron! But that isn''t valid in your case, you aren''t hiding! And you are trespassing!"


    ¡°You brought me here! Aaaand, I can hide there! Then I would either be in my crypt or the Baron would hide me, an undead, in his closet! Ha-ha!¡±


    By that time, the judge''s vein started to throb, and he started to get red in the face too. Given the example of the Noise Marine back in Sumpfigerort, Mini could annoy even a healthy combatant to death ¨C what she could do to an office worker, who neglected to visit the gym twice a week, was anyone''s guess.


    Prof, as a born Gentleman, couldn¡¯t let that happen ¨C even to a clearly evil bureaucrat, wanting to steal his wealth.


    ¡°Esteemed judge, I may have a solution for the current issue! I will remove my companion here from your court hall, not even an apology from the honored merchant would be required! There wouldn¡¯t be a legal question of grave robbing wandering undead, or what kind of corpses the Baron would be hiding in his closet. A win-win situation for everybody!¡±


    The judge deliberated for less, than a second.


    ¡°All right, all right. Get out of here! But! I don¡¯t want to see you ever again!¡±


    The judge learned a very important life lesson: never argue with a crazy Vampire, and if you do, don¡¯t expect to win.


    As the triumphant party was leaving the picturesque, pyramidal town hall (without even bribing anyone! Being polite was indeed a nice thing!), Prof had time to admire the balustrade, the travel guide spoke of. He wasn''t overwhelmed. He expected some classical freezes, carefully carved, animated, and maybe even painted. What he got was a badly done cartoon rendition of something like Bugs Bunny or The Road Runner. Clearly, Gerulian art stopped on the level of a grade-schooler.


    Well, art was in the eye of the demon spawn, or beholder, or some other insidious monster.


    ¡°You are truly an annoying piece of an otherwise useless corpse." D?nci congratulated their resident Vampire.


    ¡°Oh, thank you! All that training and Skill Points finally made a difference. I got [Annoying] to 100%! It¡¯s one of the most awesome Skills a girl could have!¡±


    ¡°I beg to differ¡­¡±


    ¡°Says someone, who has [Whining] and [Complaining] at a Grandmaster level!¡±


    ¡°There aren¡¯t Skills like that! And I¡¯m not whining and complaining!¡± Prof complained and whined. Then, he remembered, who he was arguing with. ¡°Look! A statue!¡±


    It was indeed a statue, standing in the middle of the marketplace. It was sculpted in the ¨C obviously ¨C standard Gerulian style of markedly cartoonish workmanship, painted in bright colors. Missing every last of the cultural Gerulian Skills, Prof could just only guess the depicted male, holding a scale and a hammer was someone important in the past. A merchant, ruler, judge, or something.


    Or, going by the Greenskinian way of erecting monuments, it symbolized, where the marketplace was, if visitors misunderstood the tents, tables, and stalls for anything else.


    The Garuli had a pronounced fetish for pyramids, even the tents and stalls were built in such a way ¨C that Prof wondered if there was an Arkdian culture, that only built round, spherical, or dodecahedral.


    Or at least normal, Gothic or Renaissance structures. Back on Earth, even the Japanese depicted medieval towns in such a way, but on Arkadia, Prof hadn''t found any trace of it yet.


    ¡°All right, folks!¡± Prof assumed a leading role ¡°First order is to get cheap fuel for the Hogs. Second, see if we can find some local specialties, especially booze. Maybe a barrel of passable beer; I don¡¯t want to waste the good Greenskinian stuff. As soon as we are done, we will visit the picturesque ruins of the stadium, and a few other sights to see. I don¡¯t want to spend the night here.¡±


    ¡°Can we at least come back later? Set fire to the town, or organize a nice orgy? I need my fun!¡±


    ¡°I second the useless bimbo. We have to make an example of this town! They disrespected me, the glorious Prince D?nci, future Supreme Emperor of the Unified West!¡±


    ¡°Ehm¡­ No?" Mini on her own was barely containable, with another Forestean crazy, the whole voyage descended into a constant battle, so the two didn''t depopulate the area, just because it would have been "fun". Trying to see the sights with those two was equal to bringing a couple of bored teens to visit the fifth museum in as many days. Or go to the dentist.


    Spoilsports.


    ¡°Give me money!¡± Prof was interrupted in sharing his shopping list (and containing bloodthirsty morons) by an order from waist height.


    ¡°Excuse me?¡± Prof took a look at a young female, maybe sixteen years or so of age, sitting next to one of the buildings. Clothed in the cheapest peasant clothing, and enough dirt and filth that wouldn¡¯t be misplaced on any hard-working member of the agrarian proletariat after a long day of¡­ doing things the agrarian proletariat did, she held out a chipped bowl to Prof.


    ¡°I''m begging you! Give me money! Now!" Obviously, the girl hadn''t put enough Points into [Begging] and went with [Intimidation] instead. For a probably-beggar, that wasn''t the right thing to do ¨C even [Con] or [Convincing] would have been better. No one liked beggars, and rude, demanding beggars even less.


    At least she spoke in understandable Gerulian, not like most others.


    ¡°Look, girly" Mini engaged her teaching mode "You are doing this completely wrong! You should back up demands with enough force, be it weapons or just a brick to the head, to make a point. Let me give you an example!" Mini drew her saber and approached Prof "Gimme cash! Now! Or I start stabbing!"


    ¡°No. Mini, you have your own money, I¡¯m not financing your fancy spending!¡±


    ¡°See? This is without enough backing force! Sharpclaw! Display your secret technique!¡±


    ¡°Stop that already! Sharpclaw, don¡¯t even think about it!¡±


    ¡°And this was with a high enough threat. We didn¡¯t even use [Intimidation]!¡±


    ¡°Ignore the crazy Vampire. Well, she did have a point. I think you are indeed doing the whole begging thing wrong. Demanding money from foreigners only works, if you are working for the government or are a bandit. Or both. I think beggars should ask for a little bit of contribution nicely and politely."


    ¡°No need to be cruel!" the beggar replied, obviously chastised enough "I''m new to the whole business! I got my Character Parchment only last week!"


    ¡°I see¡­ You don¡¯t seem to have much talent for begging, though. Why chose this work then?¡±


    ¡°Look, my village was burned to the ground by some noble in a squabble with my lord. It was always said to go to a town and make an honest living. As a fresh Level 1 Normal, there are not many jobs, I can do. So, it was either begging, banditry, or whoring."


    ¡°Those last two are actually very respected occupations!¡± Mini supplied ¡°You can lay on your back either way. Provide much-needed work and relaxation for soldiers and adventurers. You could even combine the two, and get paid for even more fun!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, killing stuff for a living or just because is always a good career, even for impoverished, useless peasant bitches.¡± D?nci aired his opinion ¡°Let¡¯s get moving and let that trash starve in peace.¡±

 Chapter 22: The Promised Land of Eternal Nice Weather, Part 4

    While Prof wouldn''t have put it in that blunt and rude way, he wasn''t exactly flush with cash right now ¨C and refused to give money to beggars in principle. If he could torture himself at work for a decade or so, others could do it too.


    Well, and on Arkadia he managed to amass his wealth in the most bloody way possible, facing mortal peril for almost the entire time, he was on the planet. On the very first day, he was even sent to kill off a rather high-Level Dire Wolf!


    He suspected for a time, that Lady Jotabor suspected, he was a Traveler from the start and sent him for pest control in the hope, he would perish on the way. A win-win situation, a Traveler less, and an honored noble wouldn''t need to dirty her hands. Or bloody her sword.


    Dirt on noble hands or blood on expensive weaponry was a chore to remove, after all.


    ¡°I can help you shopping!¡± The beggar girl trailed after them ¡°For money, of course!¡±


    Prof actually saw some value in that: It was a basic truth in all the multiverses: the locals knew best, where the good stuff could be bought, and bought for a much lower price.


    The opposite was also true: the locals knew, where to buy bad quality, where to buy for a high price, and¡­ well, basically, where to get stuff of a certain quality and for a certain price.


    He would be willing to part with some pocket change if that meant, he could get a better deal. Also, using D?nci as an interpreter wasn''t actually going well. At best, the Grimalkin just ignored the request to talk to the locals, and at worst, he was actually willing to do that.


    Or, more likely, offending, insulting, and being rude to them.


    ¡°All right, you are hired! We need cheap hard liquor, affordable local specialty hard liquor, basically drinkable beer in a keg, some nice local specialty food, and¡­ well, that¡¯s it.¡±


    ¡°Oh, we have porridge! It is said, it¡¯s the best porridge on all Arkadia!¡±


    ¡°Skip the porridge¡­¡±


    ¡°And we have beans¡­¡±


    ¡°Skip the beans¡­¡±


    ¡°Lentils?¡±


    ¡°Skip.¡±


    ¡°Cabbage?¡±


    ¡°Skip.¡±


    ¡°Oats?¡±


    ¡°Skip.¡±


    ¡°Almonds?¡±


    ¡°Skip¡­ No, wait! I actually like almonds.¡±


    ¡°And tomatoes. We usually have them in dried form.¡±


    ¡°A few of those wouldn¡¯t hurt¡­¡±


    Finding the beer seller wasn''t that hard in the end ¨C they just needed to find the largest crowd, preferably of desperate males with haunted looks and a lot of groceries in their hands.


    ¡°What do you need?¡± the seller asked in almost incomprehensible dialect.


    ¡°Beer. Around ten to fifteen liters, if you may. I don¡¯t have a cask, unfortunately.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s this ¡®beer¡¯?¡± that probably was just a rhetorical question from the seller, who was currently pouring a pitcher full of what remarkably looked like beer.


    ¡°Ehmm¡­ that? A liquid with moderate alcohol content, made of water, hops¡­ ehmm¡­ corn, and dunno¡­ Probably the most popular drink in the world?¡±


    ¡°Ah, that. No, we don¡¯t have beer here. We only have s?r. Lukewarm s?r.¡±


    ¡°Oh, a local specialty! That¡¯s my request!¡±


    Buying untested and untasted stuff by the barrel from random vendors on a market probably wasn''t a very smart move, but two things made it a necessity: first, the locals didn''t have a proper beer, and second, Prof was somewhat fed up with hard liquor. Well, and it made his stomach hurt.


    Including a small barrel, the price for twelve-and-a-half liter ¨C the only caliber of cask the seller could supply ¨C wasn''t all that high, and exchanging currency with goods was done in short order. Prof even managed to haggle the final price a bit ¨C even if he only had [Commerce] and not [Haggling] at a passable Level. Arkadia''s rules sometimes worked in interesting ways; why have a dedicated Skill for one thing, when another one could do the same thing in a pinch?


    Well, with a high enough [Haggling] perhaps he could get stuff for free? But then again, [Intimidation] and wanton violence could do the same¡­


    His newest tourist shepherd then directed Prof to someone, who made cheap (and almost undrinkable) booze out of left-over organic material at the edge of town ¨C situated right next to a few tanners.


    ¡°That doesn''t exactly look reassuring." Prof surveyed the highly sophisticated medieval industrial plant''s crumbling walls. Just as they arrived, someone emptied a barrel out of the main gate, directly onto the road.


    It stunk.


    Well, not only the contents of the barrel stunk but the whole building. And the tanners next door.


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    ¡°This is actually the main product of the town.¡± the beggar girl informed them.


    ¡°What? The stench?¡±


    ¡°No, the swill, they make here. It is sold all over the Seven Kingdoms! It¡¯s a base carrier for potions. Or something like that.¡±


    Prof¡¯s rudimentary [Alchemy] made some bells ring: indeed, cheap booze could be made as the base ingredient (or ¡®carrier¡¯) in potion production. It was actually better, than plain water, but worse, than a few other, more expensive liquids. Well, and you could disinfect wounds with it too. Or drink it, if nothing else potable was readily available.


    On the other hand, cheap (and hazardous) booze could be made basically everywhere, where leftover organics could be found. Why some people bought undrinkable swill from a few towns or countries over, if they could make it themselves with just the right application of a cauldron and fire, Prof didn''t exactly understand. With all the taxes, tolls, and whatnot the final price for the import was probably higher than everything locally sourced.


    Well, Earth had the idea to cart basically everything from China to basically everywhere else, and it was still cheaper than producing locally.


    So, there was no need to throw bottles when in a booze factory¡­


    If Prof had any inclination to start a trading empire, helped by his vast knowledge, of how the extremely advanced Earth did all the manufacturing, shipping, and selling¡­ he would need to invent heavy goods vehicles and hire some Eastern Fenrian drivers.


    Well, and put a lot of Skill Points into a few Skills.


    Oh, and do actual work.


    Neither of those was happening ¨C plundering¡­ ehm¡­ salvaging abandoned goods was way easier, and he would be able to see the sights too!


    As it transpired after chatting up the clerk, the beggar girl was actually wrong in stating, that the swill was exported all over the Seven Kingdoms. It was quite surprising ¨C you would expect a random young and uneducated vagrant to know, how and what was sold internationally and how the local economy worked.


    Not.


    What Prof found out was, that the locals indeed exported booze to all the Seven Kingdom, but not the undrinkable swill, but some local specialty, made of grain and almonds. And nuts ¨C walnuts, chestnuts, and hazelnuts, to be precise. While expensive even directly from the producer, the booze was expertly made and even gave important status effects. Besides making the drinker drunk, that was the main reason, booze was consumed in the first place.


    Even if had to fork out some of his last cash, he was almost forced to do so ¨C leaving innocent and excellent local specialty stuff behind simply couldn¡¯t be done by a Gentleman. Prof needing a certain amount of liquids each week had nothing to do with it.


    Having secured enough Hog Fuel to last ¨C hopefully ¨C till the coast and a few bottles of quality booze, Prof took stock of their finances.


    ¡°All right, girls, we are technically broke again. I really hope we can get good prices for the stones and jewelry from the Fallarians, or else we need to actually work."


    ¡°Noooooo!!! I¡¯m a proud noble! We don¡¯t work! We have servants to do the actual work!¡±


    ¡°With work, I mean, a few runs in a dungeon, or some honest adventurer work. You could do that, no problem.¡±


    ¡°Sssstab for money?¡±


    While the beggar girl didn''t participate in the discussion ¨C for the lack of language Skills, the party was talking in Bergian ¨C but Prof was almost certain, what kind of advice she would give: demand money from passers-by. Sharpclaw''s idea was almost the same. As Mini demonstrated earlier, begging, highway robbery, and paying taxes differed only in the amount of potential violence that was applied to the collection of money.


    ¡°I don''t think, it is a good idea to do stabbing for money," Prof concluded.


    ¡°Why? Stabbing for money is as an honorable profession, as any other!" Mini was¡­ Mini again "See dear Bia! She has been stabbing for money probably all her life. Foxy too. And that idiotic but cure other Elf. If we are honest, you do stabbing for money too!"


    ¡°Mini, I use axes. You can¡¯t stab with axes.¡±


    ¡°Semantics! And you did enough stabbing: all those dungeons, different bandits, wildlife, even Hags! Every time you came away with more money, than you started with.¡±


    ¡°But stabbing people for money is¡­ well¡­ not nice?¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Well, because the law says so, and if you stab other people, the constabulary will come after you. And well, stabbing people ain¡¯t right.¡±


    ¡°Back home there isn''t a law against stabbing people for money or because you can. If you can and survive, you are in the right, and no one would raise a fuss. Not immediately, anyway. How do you think, succession is done?"


    ¡°The old ruler dies and the successor is crowned.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, exactly. No one cares if the old ruler died of old age or acute metal poisoning. Or any other fun and legitimate reason. Not even, if the successor is holding a bloody dagger. Well, it helps, if the successor brings an army, but anyway."


    ¡°So, you say, we go to the Fallarian Empire or whatever their name is, and start making successors? I don''t think, that is the way for a long life."


    ¡°Who cares, peasant? If you make enough successors, and those being mostly me, I see no problem, if you die early and horribly!"


    ¡°Thanks, D?nci, I knew, I could count on you¡­¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s Prince D?nci, peasant. Or you could try Future Supreme Emperor D?nci.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m putting down my foot here! No stabbing other people for money! If we need, we will stab critters for money, but not people!¡±


    ¡°Define ¡®people¡¯. Aaaand, are bandits included in that prohibition? What if you don¡¯t know?¡±


    ¡°Mini, I think, you really raised [Annoying] to truly ridiculous Levels. But WHY?!?!?¡±


    ¡°It''s fun and a self-defense strategy for the times when wholesale slaughter and carnage isn''t a viable option."


    ¡°Has your brain rotted away, corpse lady? There aren''t times when slaughter, party, and carnage aren''t the best solution!"


    ¡°I beg to differ, oh Future Supreme Emperor! You can solve quite a few problems with courtesy, bribes, and indifference."


    ¡°Violence is generally cheaper, more fun, and requires less time.¡± Mini dispensed her version of wisdom, with both Sharpclaw and D?nci nodding.


    ¡°Sssssstabbing eassssy. Talking hard!¡±


    Prof questioned ¨C not for the first time ¨C what kind of crimes he committed in his previous life to warrant such¡­ friend?... Acquaintances?... Travel companions?... in his current one. He was quite certain, he didn''t make bad choices in the last few months, that led to the current situation. Every last one of them was well thought-out, carefully deliberated, and made utilizing all the information he had.


    If no one told him important information, like Elves were bad news, Vampires were crazy, Forestdeep was a place, normal people were running away from, and you don¡¯t mess with Greenskin music, it wasn¡¯t his fault!


    Oh, wait.


    Quite a few people informed him about most of the previous points.


    Anyways¡­


    ¡°Hey, folks! Look! Picturesque ruins of a once famous sports stadium!¡±