There is a sense of vast swathes of time passing. It's not dark or bright here. It's not anything. Here... Isn't. But there's not enough time in this transitory state to form thoughts or impressions; It's over in an instant despite the sense of timeless immensity.

Now she's in a soft chair on an elaborate rug on some kind of tower. The landscape all around is terrestrial and bucolic - rolling green hills, pastoral rivers, and friendly-looking forests. A thin, old-looking woman in a bright yellow floral print dress is sitting across a wrought iron table. There is a tea set.

Her memory crystal is with her; The mysterious woman frowns thoughtfully at it.

"...Hmm. How unusual. Well, now. Would you like some tea before the explanation?"

She grins and takes a seat.

"I'd love tea. I'm pretty sure I died, there, but you aren't my Evenstar. So I am instantly intrigued. Is this an afterlife?"

"Yes, you died. To call this an afterlife is... Not strictly inaccurate, but misleading."

She pours tea. Thorn's is whatever she would most enjoy at the moment; Hers is Chai.

"This world is in a cycle where the forces of Light and Darkness pull against each other. At the peak of the cycle, a Demon Lord inevitably arises and attempts to destroy everything, and a Hero is called to oppose them. A soul from another world, one selected for drive, potential, and a certain ineffable spirit, taken at the moment of their death and brought into this world. You are that hero. Explaining how or why would cut into our short time together; Suffice to say there are a lot of tradeoffs."

She laughs, and sips at her Earl Grey. "Seems accurate. What do I need to know?"

"You'll be deposited as you are, somewhere where the immediate surroundings are safe, not too far from people. You shan't have trouble with languages; Even without your own magic it would still be true. You will not know the Demon Lord's identity or goals unless you make efforts to discover them. You must seek challenge to grow stronger. You will be given a head start and faster progression, but that is not enough. Learn, fight, level up, find allies, gather resources. You will receive a Unique Skill, the shape of which I am capable of - nudging - in this brief window. This is your greatest advantage, and I encourage you to be creative with it."

"Alright. I want more time. Whether salvaged from sleeping and eating and other needs, or stolen from moments when I don't need it, I've learnt again and again that seconds can make the difference."

"Quite a powerful thing, time is, when used correctly. I'll see what I can do." 

She gestures at the landscape after another sip. It's looking like late summer now - A little drier, the first signs of yellowing leaves showing.

"Time enough remains for a few questions. Query quickly."

She visibly bites back a few questions. "How many cycles have there been?"

That gets a quick headshake and a small frown. "I cannot give you an exact number. Very many."

"Will the remnants of past heroes aid me?"

"Such remnants as there are may do so, if you prove your heroic status. But remnants with minds and wills are rare. Their journals and equipment will be useful if you find them. There are a lot of things in the world."

"How alien is my magic to this world?"

"It won't level without the help of a Unique Skill. There is nothing quite like it, though several magics you might learn could replicate its functions."

"Understood. I think that's all."

She smiles and says, "Good luck!"

Now Thorn is on a sandy beach looking out on the ocean. It's a bit chilly. There is a tall pine forest behind her, and the bay off to her right shows hills and cliffs all coated in greenery, with some snow.

Something tells her, not in words but direct knowledge placed into her mind, 

Unique Skill gained! 『Chronobank』 level 1.

Time is a valuable thing. Watch it fly by as the clocks tick away; Hold it in reserve for a rainy day.

You may accumulate time in your 『Chronobank』 while eating, sleeping, waiting and doing nothing, or doing any other mundane and routine activity. Stored time may be expended for a variety of 『Haste』-like effects. Stacks multiplicatively with 『Haste』-like effects. Conversion efficiency, maximum storage, maximum amplification, and other factors increase with skill level.

Costs in stored time scale according to this ranking:

Accelerated Thought (Manual Activation) >> Accelerated Thought (Automatic Activation) >> Accelerated Body (Manual Activation) >> Accelerate Others >> Accelerated Body (Automatic Activation)

There's a probable settlement off that way, around the curve of the coast. Regular shapes and colors other than green and brown, at least. It must be about ten miles away.

She checks herself over and takes inventory. No packful of gold and a handy home beacon this time; all she has is what was on her when she was walking home. That would be...

One (1) white cotton dress shirt.

One (1) pair of blue jeans. 

One (1) bra and underwear set, black. 

One (1) pair socks. 

One (1) pair sneakers. (Damn it.)

One (1) quartz memory necklace.

No headphones or phone... or even her damn athame. At least she was left her necklace.

She's fairly sure she can take most things she'd encounter with just her telekinesis, which should work. So. Walk or fly? 

She doesn't want to be caught flying, that betrays her as weird. But neither does she want to go crosscountry in sneakers. She could if she had to, she doesn't have to. She'll fly low over the ocean where there isn't anything to smack into, and come back onto land when she's closer - say about a mile out.

If she manages to store anything in the Chronobank while flying, so much the better.

She doesn't manage to store anything in the Chronobank besides a few tiny trickles from standing around considering her options. It doesn't give her numbers, just a sort of - oddly precise feeling.

Her flight works perfectly fine. Nothing leaps out of the ocean to try to eat her (this time).

The probable-settlement resolves into a collection of brightly painted one and two story houses with a few larger stores, plus a fairly extensive set of docks and piers lined with sailboats. There's a tall stone statue of a trio - mermaid, kobold, human man - standing in a sort of town square, just visible to her enhanced eyes at this distance.

She'll walk in along the beach in her sneakers and hope they don't fill up with sand too much.

About half a mile outside the town she'll encounter a young woman walking along - a teenager, really - dressed in a well-tailored outdoors outfit composed of furs and linen with lots of crossing lines in subtly different colors included in the design, carrying a dagger, a bow with arrows, and a bindle with what look like small game traps hanging from it. She doesn't look intimidating at all.

She stops walking and looks quizzically at Thorn.

No point in trying to duck suspicion, and she has a lot she could learn. She waves. "Hey there! What town is this? I'm rather intensely lost."

"...Bydhof? Lucky you ain't dead, lady, walking around without any gear like that."

"There was an accident, I lost my good knife and got all turned around. Really missing my pack right now, too - it's more replaceable than the knife but it's got all my money in it, 'long with my camping gear and my pistol." Sigh. "'Least I'm still alive. I figure I'll see what jobs there are need doing around town, try and earn enough for an inn stay. Any recommendations?"

"That's awful, ain't it. Well, what're your Skills like?"

'Skills' is audibly capitalized.

Well, she hopes this translates... "I'm a strong knifefighter and a good shot with a pistol. I have some trailcraft too. I'm not too proud to wash dishes or haul things. Oh, and I have an excellent memory. So maybe I'd make a good waitress or accountant if my other skills fall through."

That gets a puzzled frown.

"You're a stranger or I'd offer to give you some of the game from my traps if you help reset them. You could go to Sharktooth and bet on yourself in fights, I guess, but that doesn't work if you've got nothing to bet. Your body, I guess." Shrug. "Nobody here's going to sell you a gun on credit but if you have a Maintenance or Repair subskill maybe that'd do you for a job. Or, yeah, chores."

"Good thought on the Maintenance subskill - don't think I have that though, I know enough to take care of my own piece and not much else. Probably I'll do chores to earn a stake for the fights."

More puzzled frown. Then a shrug. "You might be close to getting the Skill," she says slightly as if talking to a child. "If you look at some other guns. Good idea, maybe. Hmph. Sail well."

Then she adjusts her trap-laden bindle and keeps walking.

So Skills are a real thing here. Native magic of some type? You earn them by practicing a skill and then it "gels" somehow and you get a Skill. So she doesn't have any Skills yet, but if she practices what she already knows how to do something ought to happen quickly.

She keeps walking onward towards the town. She can't fix her appearance so might as well grin and bear it.

There are small clusters of houses a bit outside down, mostly without any activity around them. One person is chopping firewood with a speed and precision that doesn't quite fit an ordinary human. A group of kids watched over by a matron doing something in a circle near the woods. A few of the people here have grey skin rather than the various shades of 'pale' on the humans present. Some of them have odd hair or eye colors. One woman has a crab claw instead of a hand.

...There turns out to be a low wall surrounding the town, only about six feet high, plus a gatehouse/watchtower at the beachside entrance to the town, with a telescope mounted in it, looking out to sea.

The armored man at the gate has bright red eyes and shouts to her, "Ho, stranger! Speak with honor." This phrase sets up a - pressure. It's harder to consider lying and trickery, now. "What brings you here, and what are your intentions in town?"

Well, focus on what he needs to know and speak plainly as best she's able.

"Accident and misfortune. I intend to do chores and sell repairs and earn a bed for the night, for I'm short any gear to keep me safe in the wilds. I intend no harm to anyone."

"I see. How terrible. Was an unusual monster involved? An aquatic one. You will be welcome here. I'm Graf Dennson, ask for me later if you need a small loan. It's good to help those in need. Name and occupation?"

"No monsters involved, just my own foolish recklessness and some bad luck. I've really no-one but myself to blame. I'm Evangeline Ingram legally but I go by Thorn; I'm a scout by trade. Usually I'd have a knife and pistol on me, but..."

"Hmm. You an adventurer or a wildlands scout? Ah- We've been having trouble with - we think it's a Mutant Wave Ripper. High C or low B rank threat. If anyone wants you as a deckhand I would ask them some pointed questions."

"I haven't talked to the Guild yet but I'm on course to become one." As of five seconds ago. "I've mostly been doing work with a trading company so far. And I'll keep in mind to watch out for your wave ripper."

"Well then, welcome to Bydhof."

"Thank you." And she walks on through the gate. 

She'll go looking for the market to start with. Anywhere selling boots?

The market is less centralized than one might imagine of a medieval village. There are more individual shops, some operated out of houses, and less market stalls in the town square. There are totally signs for clothes stores, and one specifically for boots, footwear, and greaves.

Grey skinned people seem to be about 5% of the people here, and may be a different species. They're called 'Fischers', which seems to be distinct from the profession. They seem... Tense, as a group.

She'll go browse the footwear store and see what the price of a good nonenchanted pair of boots is. Then the same for a clothing store and see what the price of a good nonenchanted shirt is. 

Then... is there a central place where she'd be seen with a sign, and is there a stationery store?

A nice pair of boots is 1 silver 5 copper. A simple shirt is 14 copper. There is a stationary store, a large posterboard type paper and a pencil will run her one copper and one copper penny.

She'll ask at the stationery store if they have anything damaged she could repair in kind for a piece of paper and use of a pencil.

What, does she have some sort of weird Repair skill? Sure, if she fixes this cabinet door, she can have paper and pencil.

She holds it for a moment, thinks Make Whole, and the door comes away whole. 

"Thanks much," she says. And off she goes with paper and pen to the closest thing to a major square she can find. 

She writes:

Instant Repairs

Non-enchanted items only

She holds up her sign and waits. She can afford to be patient.

There's an open plaza with that statue of three heroes(?) in it.

She gets interested looks, and a few people asking about the price. A man with a torn shirt, a mom with a kid with a broken pull-boat toy on wheels, a Fischer with a scrimshawed bone harpoon wanting to know if it counts as un-enchanted or not because... Fischer tools aren't really enchanted but still get kind of weird, okay?

She eyeballs prices, aiming low. Three copper for the shirt, one for the pull-boat. She casts Make Whole on anything she's paid for. The harpoon - 

"I can't be certain it'll work but it ought to just fail if it doesn't - ten copper for it if the repair's sound, sound fair?"

"Sounds fair. Though- Hmm. If I'm not doing it myself, I wonder..." He frowns thoughtfully. "Well, I did recover all the fragments. Aid from outside isn't unreasonable. Let's do it."

She takes the fragments, pieces them together as best she can in her hand, thinks to herself: Make Whole. 

The grey-skinned man helps assemble it, fretfully. From this angle and up close, he appears to have gills along his neck.

The harpoon is made whole. He sighs in relief and carefully turns it over and over.

"One of the designs is damaged. I'll have to think about what to put there - the story of breaking and healing is going there, I mean, but an exact design. Thank you."

He smiles and drops a silver piece into her palm.

She smiles and bows. "I'm glad I could help." She pockets the silver. 

A few more of those and she'll be well on her way to financial stability. She goes back to holding out her sign. 

Nobody else has anything they're offering silver for fixing. Shoes, baskets, toys, a saddle, a frayed rope, a broken oar, a plow. The town has a couple thousand people, but even the market square is not all that busy, even as the day wears on and a few carts join her in the square.

Enough copper adds up. She mends everything she's brought, and around noon when her stomach is starting to rumble she counts up her coins. 

... She'd rather go hungry for a day than go without a bed or a roof for the night. Time to go look at what the cost of an inn is.

This place seems fairly insular. It's not a tiny village, but certainly not a big town either. There are two inns - Sharktooth, which is also a seedy-looking tavern down by the sea and offers a cramped bunk in a bunkroom for three copper a night or an individual room for eight, and the Fine Pine, neat and well built if not especially fancy, which has a nicely appointed restaurant on the first floor and offers considerably nicer rooms including magic locks, breakfast, a bath and laundry service, for fourteen copper a night. She also finds a single-room Adventurers' Guild office, a single street that seems to be ethnic Fischers and has a very different architectural sense - including a strange shrine - and some sort of monastery compound on the hill at the back end of the town where bald, blue robe-wearing people are walking around.

Alright, so assuming there's a steady supply of broken things she should be set for the foreseeable future. She can definitely afford to eat. Any street food? And after that she'll look into what a half-decent knife costs.

There is street food! It's sort of hard to describe. Lots of bread and sauces, not so much pastry but more about savory flavors. Meat is expensive and people are griping about the cost of fish lately. It's all tasty though.

A cheap, half decent dagger costs 16 copper. Oddly enough they have six copies of the exact same mediocre dagger down to the hilt patterning. New, individualized ones start at 1 silver. Magic ones go up from there. She probably wants a magic one, they last a lot longer, the salesman insists.

She pays with her silver for a two-copper lunch and gets seventeen copper back, which confirms her suspicion that it's nineteen copper to the silver. She sits by the statue in the town square and eats, and takes stock. 

She has: A pocket and a half full of copper coins. One outfit complete with urban shoes. Her necklace. Her runic tattoos. 

She needs: Another full outfit. A knife and a pistol. Some decent damn boots. Somewhere to put everything so she's not trying to stuff it all into her jean pockets. An Adventurer's Guild badge, most likely. A moneychanger to make silver from copper. An inn room for the night. 

How many copper coins does she have exactly...? She moves them all from her left pocket into her right pocket, and then counts them one by one as she moves them all to her left pocket. Seventy exactly. So she can't afford much, but... if she stays at the nice inn, she'll have a place to put things that she can trust. Not a long term solution, but better than letting her pockets fill up with copper. 

For now money is the most important thing, so she'll go see about that room at the Pines and then get back to her station at the market and keep looking for more broken things to mend.

In the Fine Pine, there's a few people in the restaurant including a man in purple robes with messy black hair and glasses and half a dozen books splayed around him in the restaurant. The receptionist is happy to book her into a room and give her slightly-magic keycard.

There's a steady stream of broken things. They seem to think her restriction to non-magic items is weird, but not especially weird.

One handsome young man wandering with his friends, with total apparent sincerity and an eyelash flutter, asks, "Can you mend my broken heart?"

She leaves her pile of copper coins in the side table in her room, pockets her keycard, and keeps working. 

She halfsmiles at the man. "Alas, hearts are too magical for me to mend."

They joke at his expense and the rowdy crowd moves on without issue.

The teen she met on the beach comes past her in the early afternoon, her bindle now laden with dead birds and rabbits swaying from little ropes.

"Didn't take you for a mage."

"It's the tattoos," she explains. "They were done by a powerful mage and permanently give me the ability to repair things. Wasn't sure if I wanted to go flashing it around, but I weighed my options and this looked better than being homeless and starving."

"Huh. Neat. That sounds really handy, I can totally see people wanting that for some extra options. Whatever Skill lets them do that must be in high demand. Is it sorcery or wizardry or something weirder, do you know?"

"I expect it's something weirder, but I don't know for sure. In any case it's made my day a lot better - with this I can support myself fairly handily without having to resort to chores."

"Uh... Yeah." She frowns. "Are you some kind of runaway heiress or something?"

"Do I look that stuck-up to you?"

"...You have a really weird permanent spell, not a weird Skill that just does the one thing, that smells like money and lots of it."

"You wouldn't be wrong. I used to run scouting missions for an obscenely wealthy merchant consortium. The mage - I'm guessing they were A-rank - owed them a favour, so all the scouts like me got tattoos like this to help them survive and support themselves in hostile territory. It was a surprise to me, too."

"Okay, that's a pretty good story to keep someone from drugging you and trying to figure out who to ransom you to, good work if it's not true. You do carry yourself confidently, so." Shrug. "Good luck."

"Thank you; seems I'll need it. And if you didn't spread around the fact it's my tattoos I'd appreciate it."

She snorts. "Appreciation and a copper will buy me allergy potion. Bye now, stranger."

And off she goes.

Business slows down in the evening. A couple folks have heard she lost all her stuff and ask if she's an adventurer - there's a local branch of the Guild, they could send off a message to have a replacement badge sent! This is said with some pride.

She's not, but she wants to be. In the evening she'll go down to the Adventurer's Guild and see about registering, a pocket jingling with copper just in case there's fees involved.

The local Guild branch is a small office area, with two reception desks and one back room. A sign indicates that they also serve as a bank! The slightly fat middle-aged man manning one of the reception desks is wearing some kind of black and white uniform and puts on a fairly solid customer service smile.

"I'm afraid we, uh, don't do new registrations here. I'm mostly here to report any issues to my superiors, and arrange local business interest interactions. Oh, and banking and courier services. Unfortunately I cannot offer withdrawals or courier services today. You could open a bank account and deposit, though - er, there are fees if you're not a Guild member, and unfortunately we're not equipped to take in new memberships, as I said."

"Oh. Alas. Do you know where the nearest registry office is?"

"That would be in the town of Marondel. It's inland along the river, and the easiest way there is by boat. Well. Normally the easiest way there is by boat, but I've been stuck here without my relief for two months because of that shark!" He laughs a bit darkly.

She nods understandingly. "Well, I won't trouble you any longer. Thank you for your time." 

She heads back to her room at the inn, where she stuffs her pockets with copper and then goes looking for a moneychanger.

The Adventurers' Guild branch has a bank? Oh, you just need to change silvers? Buy a kebab for five copper pennies (a whole copper being twelve) and this guy will take her coppers for silver!

She'll take that deal! Here are 126 loose coppers, sorry about that. She did count them, doesn't mind if he does too. 

He does, in fact, count them, quite briskly though. Then hands back six silver, eleven copper, seven copper pennies, and a kebab.

(Also, Thorn suddenly finds conversions between coppers, pennies, and silvers much easier to do in her head. And knows that it's 14 silver to the gold, and 23 gold to the platinum. This must be what gaining a Skill feels like.)

"Thanks much." She leaves chewing on her kebab.

Alright. That puts her haul in perspective. One night is most of a silver, so she has maybe a week's runway from today. Assuming she doesn't buy anything, which: she needs to buy things. And she can't rely on broken things in the longer term. So - another income stream. Fighting, maybe. She has a stake now, enough to wager on herself - but she doesn't have any Skills on the fighting side just yet. 

So... time to address the hole at her side. She needs a dagger. She'll get one of the better mundane ones for a whole silver. And then she'll go find some clear space, maybe just outside the city limits, and do her katas and see if anything crystallizes. 

Something does crystallize!

Again not anything she can put in words, and she was already very used to fighting with a knife, but suddenly this knife's subtly different shape and balance doesn't feel quite so alien, and there's a subtle awareness about where the blade is and is going to be that feels a little more innate, a little more instinctual, than before.

She breaks out into a grin. 

That is so cool.

She'll shadowbox next - she can't train her throws without a partner, but she can practice her strikes at least.

Shadowboxing clicks soon enough, too. She can hit faster and return to neutral pose faster, just a bit. It's easier to keep the punches in perfect form without focusing on it. She's more aware of her balance. It would seem that using existing skills turns them into Skills fairly easily.

So then she should definitely stop by the gunsmiths' later. 

For now though she heads back to her rooms and flops into bed. It's been a pretty long day. 

She absently plays with her memory crystal as she goes to sleep, rifling through her store of experiences. 

Her store of experiences is intact. Recording normally, even.

Not that Thorn knows this, but it's metaphysically a part of her enough to have been brought along by the great summoning. It could have been taken from her, to push her to more distress and faster action. But that would have been extra effort for risky and nebulous gains. Besides, the effort to import it and ensure it works consistently had already been done by that point.

Her Chronobank feels about 1/2 full by the time she's done, between eating and the time spent waiting for people to ask for repairs in the town square. Kind of hard to tell how much acceleration she'll get out of it without trying it, though it feels like... A scale of minutes, not hours.

She'll try speeding her cognition and riffling through her memories faster. Anyone stand out? Anything she ought to have caught then she can catch now?

She doubles her perception speed, and the drain in her Chronobank starts immediately. She could push it up further or accelerate slightly less strongly - the consumption of stored time appears to be exponential to the amount of acceleration.

Moments that stand out upon a re-watch:

A huge, shadowy body below her in the ocean, passed in barely a second as she flies along and not seeming to react.
Some wary looks and hastily covered tattoos on Fischers as she walked past the street they seemed to be consolidated on.
One of the most bundled up people who walked past her seems... A bit more inhuman on a second review. Their hood and long robes were clearly hiding a tail bundled up under them, and maybe digitigrade legs and horns, and they carried themselves with a subtle aura of power. Nobody seemed concerned, though.
A few cutters in the Sharktooth tavern who were eyeing her as a potential mark and seemed undecided about it during her brief visit to check prices. One of which shadowed her in the town square for a while before going back.

Ah, lovely. Well, that's a problem for tomorrow. 

She stops draining her chronobank and sleeps.

Nothing disturbs her sleep. The Chronobank is full when she wakes up.

She gets out of bed and goes down to have her hotel breakfast. After that, she'll head out to the square again and get back to doing repairs.

The stream of people wanting things fixed is steadily drying up. Most of the things people own are enchanted in some way or another, especially their more valuable things. And clothes can be mended ordinarily, and so on.

One of the cutters who was eyeing her as a mark offers two silver to fix his mom's stables - the roof is falling in. If she can do that, that is?

... She'll have to see the damage to know for sure. 

Her place is over on the north side of town, near the gate.

He gestures and starts walking.

She follows, with a cautious eye for her surroundings. She's well aware this could be a trap, but - two silver. 

This isn't really a big enough town to have alleys, but here is a smaller, less crowded street. He points around the side of one of the houses.

Yep. That's a stable, with a sagging roof and a horse inside it.

"What do you think? Need to see it from inside?"

"I'll need to see the support beam but it should work."

He'll let her inside to see the support beam. Then- Shut the door behind him, and draw the blade at his side while she looks at the support beam, deliberately allowing it to make the noise of steel on leather.

She turns and looks at him at the sound.

"Really?"

She is neither intimidated nor impressed.

A moment of hesitation, consideration, judgement. Blink and you'll miss it.

Then the man blinks in confusion. "...What? I'm feeding Lottie." He points at a hay bale on the floor. Then hefts it towards the horse's stall, and cuts open the thin mesh binding it into a roll once it's there. "So, does the support beam look fixable? Two silver, like I said."

She has Chronobank and you'd best believe she was speeding her mind there. The expressions play out across his face in slow motion. 

So this was a setup. But a clever one. 

She nods amiably to him and fixes the support beam without looking back at it. (She still has a hand on it, it's not that hard.) 

"Clever how they roll those. Haven't seen that before. Thanks for the chance at honest work. My payment?"

"It's tricky, but makes 'em conveniently dense. Fixed, just like that. High level Skills are terrifying, huh? Here you are."

He tosses the two coins through the air to her with a small sigh, gives her a grimace and a little nod.

She snatches the coins out of the air with her left hand, smiles and nods back. "Be nice of you to recommend me to your friends, but that's a bonus. Mind getting the door?"

He opens the door and backs away and gives a sardonic bow.

"Sure, as long as you don't embarrass me with tales. Best keep this to the right circles anyway."

She laughs and nods. "No hard feelings." And then she's out the door.

On her way back to the market square she passes a screaming argument between a probably-couple. The man is lightly roughing the woman, who just- Stands there, immovable and unimpressed and speaking calmly. No guards or police are immediately in evidence, though there are window watchers.

She tries to catch the woman's gaze. "Do you need help?"

"This isn't about you! It's about promises!"

The woman just headshakes with a grimace.

"Does your boyfriend know how you feel about promises, Geld?"

"...Guards." She mouths at Thorn. "Please."

She nods, and starts off towards the gate at a dead run. She doesn't tap her chronobank, but she's definitely in a hurry. 

Perhaps if she knew where their barracks is it might be closer than the gate, but she doesn't. There's enough open space that she doesn't have to dodge around anybody, though she gets strange looks and mutters.

...And speeds up a few seconds into the run.

Bored guards stand ready at the nearest gate. 

"Hey there! There's an altercation nearby the blue awning cafe, man pushing a woman around. She asked me to get the guards, so."

"Shit. Thank you for the warning. Simon, tell the boss!"

Simon nods and pulls out something that must be a sending stone.

"Fen, get down here, we're going to deal with this! Any weapons?" She asks Thorn.

"Not that I saw. I'll lead you right to where they were, just say the word."

"I know of it, no need. We'll separate them and take whoever needs it down to the House. Thank you."

Fen storms out the warehouse door and the pair of them run off.

"No problem."

Alright then, next stop... She needs a belt sheath for her knife so she can have it with her and not leave it uselessly back at the inn. How much will that run her?

A cheap, imperfectly fitting sheath can he had for as few as four copper. Is she sure she doesn't want something fancier? Stylish, self adjusting, magically sturdy, made so it won't dull the blade, built in activatable shield charm, et cetera?

She wants something secure, not something where the blade will be loose and rattle. And she doesn't plan for this to be her last dagger, so - she'll spring for self-adjusting if it's not too expensive.

A self adjusting belt sheath with a nice sturdy attachment point in sleek dark red leather is one silver four copper.

Damn. She'll still take it, but that is definitely a dent in her budget. 

Now to go buy a belt to put it on. She could just hang it from her beltloop, but frankly it's stupid to treat a good piece of gear like that.

There are just as many options to add magic to a belt! 

"What sort of look are you trying for? Noble scoundrel? Adventurer chic?" Asks the saleswoman in the second thought store she visits.

"It should match this sheath of mine if you've got anything in that color way and material." She holds it up. "Other than that anything is fine."

"I have some matches but you've gotta assemble a good look, it makes everyone think of you how you want to be thunk! It makes everything easier to have people not underestimate you. Or maybe you do want them to underestimate you."

She starts looking through drawers and cabinets bringing out belts, including a few in the same color. There are some fancy designs, some with worked patterns, some with 'natural' fur in convenient places, some with fancy buckles and bangles.

"All these help you look tough, but- Merchanty or academic, implies solid outdoorswomanship, makes you look like a caster maybe." She says pointing to each category of style.

"Solid outdoorswomanship sounds right, do we have anything matching in that category?"

She tuts and fusses and has Thorn hold several against herself and comments that the pants are interesting but she doesn't know what to do with them really where are they from? And eventually gives Thorn a red option and a black option, both with a fur-textured small pouch on the opposite side of where her sheath will go, to look balanced. Red is a fighter's color, so wearing much of it is a bit more of a statement, but black's really neutral.

She'll take the red option, how much will it be?

Six and a half copper. Does she want any customizing, a symbol or rune or initials? That just rounds it up to seven and she can do it in five minutes.

She'll get it monogrammed with a Thorn rune, please and thank you.

After some gesturing to get the placement and size exactly right, with a little fan-shaped tool, the rune is carefully cut into the leather right under the buckle.

"Good to do business with ya. It should take enchantments alright if you want to have it upgraded later, clean and care for it just like any other leather for now."

She nods. "Thank you very much."

She heads back to her rooms, puts on the belt and sheath and sheaths her dagger, and then goes to have her lunch. After that she'll advertise repairs some more... and once it starts getting late, she'll look into purchasing a new set of clothes and getting her current set laundered at the hotel. 

The repairs are drying up, most peoples' things are enchanted. She does keep getting people asking if she can do more magic, but they all stop bothering her when it turns out she can't.

Laundry service is two copper pennies per garment. Or one per pair of socks, or underwear.

She resists the clothiers' attempts to upsell her, and buys a rust-colored shirt, (four copper) some pants (four copper six pennies) and a bra and underpants (two copper six pennies) and a pair of socks (one copper). Redressing in her new clothes, she turns over all her old clothes along with sixpence to be washed. Might as well renew her stay at the Fine Pine while she's at it; a silver for the front desk gets her five copper back.

Now... She thinks she'll stay in her room and practice her kineball moves with her dagger in privacy. With her telekinesis, she practices drawing, striking, and returning. Then she taps her chronobank and sees if she can get finer control just by speeding her mind.

She gets a relevant Skill not very long into the practice. Accelerating her perception and making clean, efficient strikes with it takes some getting used to - her reflexes are trained to react faster than they actually need to under acceleration, and yet her body is moving correspondingly slowly, subjectively speaking. Eventually, though, she picks up a Skill for this as well.

...It feels like the chronobank suddenly levels up just about when she runs out of time in it, if that jump from 'mostly empty' to 'slightly more mostly empty' is anything to go by.

Oooh Skills come in levels!

... She needs to spar. And she wants to investigate Sharktooth's anyway... And it's getting towards evening...

Tomorrow. She wants her chronobank to be full when she goes in there, just in case. 

She goes and buys supper for another copper, then retreats back to her room to eat it. She could investigate the gunsmith's, but... She wants time to think. 

No more money for broken things tomorrow, most likely. She's out of work. So - Gunsmith's and Sharktooth's. Or chores. Or else. 

She likes Sharktooth's best. She needs to get to know some more cutters. Just a matter of how she stacks up...

She thinks she'll tire herself out with some more shadowboxing, and then sleep. 

Nothing disturbs her sleep, even if some would expect the chosen Hero to have moved on to more exciting things by her third day in the world.

In the morning, she eats a hearty breakfast and then heads over to Sharktooth's, dagger strapped on and ready.

The seedy tavern continues to be a seedy tavern. Only one of the cutters from the other day is there at the moment - he makes an unfamiliar handsign and turns back to his beer without further interaction upon seeing her.

There's a space open off to the side that might as well be an official fighting ring. Though despite the crowd of grumpy fisherman who can't safely go fish, things are kind of slow and nobody's fighting this early in the day.

She nods amiably to the cutter and scopes out the crowd a little, but when it's clear there isn't a group of cutters here she leaves. Off to find the gunsmith's.

There are a lot of smiths, some of which even work on guns sometimes! Nobody here appears to specialize in them. Also, the guns are all late 19th century designs at best. No automatics here.

Well drat. And if she wanted to purchase a pistol, how much would it run her?

A gun will set her back at least 5 silver, even a very basic flintlock pistol. Plus bullets and powder will cost even more.

Damn. That's basically her entire remaining funds. 

She goes to the adventurer's guild and asks after job opportunities.

The young woman at the desk today is a lot more cheery than the man from last night. "Of course! Please allow me to examine your Guild badge and then we'll look at anything that's available."

"I'm unregistered, I'm afraid. And with the shark I can't get to another office to register. Do you have any suggestions for me?"

"Oh. Uh..." She grimaces and thinks. "Overland travel is safer than sea travel at the moment, but not exactly safe. You could try to join or form a party heading inland. The bounty on the suspected Mutant Wave Ripper is steadily increasing. More and more people are paying in to get it killed, eventually it'll be enough to attract someone powerful enough to do it. And as a special bounty regarding a public safety matter, it's payable to all participants of any raid that takes it down, subdivided according to group agreement with the Guild's standard commission subtracted. The bounty currently sits at eighteen gold, five copper. Er, that's before commission. The fees scale based on rank, usually, so that's how we record things. Our commission on public safety bounties is 20%."

She whistles. "That's a fair bounty. But I think going inland makes more sense for me. Do you have a local map I could consult?"

She nods. "Technically I'm not supposed to if you're not a member, but-" She glances at the back office's closed door. "Special situations call for initiative, yes? And you intend to sign up, so." Small smile. "Just a moment."

She fetches the map from a cabinet, neatly folded and written on nice vellum.

The area seems to be populated with a lot of fjords, rivers, lakes, small islands, and the like. There's a fair sized lake system inland, with some canals marked out. There are a lot of small towns like this one noted. Interesting landmarks include 'Cancer Rock' on a large island to the north, 'Demon's Mark' on a circular lake with stylized sharp rock formations around it, and 'Dungeons' marked here and there, all of them with a town nearby.

"Everywhere with a dungeon will have a branch big enough for you to sign up. They're the core of the Guild's business and all."

"So then I'd be interested in the closest one..." She traces the local river along to a town with a dungeon. "Is this here Marondel?"

"Yes, that's Marondel. It's nineteen miles by boat, though I think the water journey is a bit longer than the land trip. I know people can make the trip by foot in a day, and the biggest risk is being attacked by wild monsters or ghur exposure rather than having to camp in the wilderness."

"What are the local wild monsters? I've been lucky enough not to run into anything so far."

"I think that would be Stick Insects, Evil Squirrels, Forest Spiders, and Snow Sprites, mostly. But it's not those you have to worry about, usually, that would be your Frost Boar, Small Dire Wolf, Walking Catfish, or if you're fantastically unlucky a Wendigo or Fang Bear."

She nods. "What steps would you recommend I take against Ghur exposure?"

"Just the usual for ghur. There aren't any vortexes in this region and the risk of dhar is no worse than ambient."

"Thank you, you've been a tremendous help. I don't think I have any more questions, so I'll be on my way."

She ducks out of the office, and goes off to buy an adventuring pack.

There are actually backpacks designed for exactly this, and specialty backpack stores! Even the non-magic ones are very good, comfy and sturdy and spacious. they're more expensive than her boots, but not by all that much. She could find a cheap one for anywhere from six copper to a silver depending on size. Camping supplies are around too.

Someone might be following her. A Fischer, not an unusual sight around town, but her bioluminescent dots are unusual even on Fischers. She's carrying a big backpack and wearing clothes that look more like the guards' gear than civilian styles, and a pistol in a hip holster. She seems hesitant, nervous, confused even. Scanning crowds and wandering, but she passes by Thorn fairly close twice, thrice. Clearly looking for someone, but if she's looking for Thorn, she doesn't have much to go on.

She pays ten copper for something big enough to fit the basics, and then goes off to pick up a canteen and some rations. She notes the Fischer woman searching the crowd, but sees no reason to approach her. She'll keep an eye on her though, unusual things are worth noting.

Is she sure she doesn't want a maaaaagic canteen? One that refills from water vapor in the air is worth almost a gold, but there are nicely insulated and self-cleaning models for about two silver. Rations are less upsell-able. There's places that offer nicely magic-sealed meals that supposedly will keep well and be good to eat on the march, and the cost is comparable to restaurant food rather than bulk staples, but not any pricier than that. There are also healing and mana potions on offer, starting at a silver, and a few more expensive buff potions. And the Fine Pine seems to be advertising special steaks that increase strength and 'fighting spirit' for 24 hours, phrased and discussed by passers-by as if it's a perfectly legitimate temporary buff, for ten copper.

She can't afford two silver right now. She'll go for the el cheapo model for three copper four pennies. She'll buy one sealed restaurant meal, as a treat, and then add three days' trail rations atop it, for a total of three copper. She might check out the Fine Pine's steak later. For now: Tents!

Tents are not a popular object in a mostly maritime town. Selection is pretty limited, but what they do have benefits from surprisingly modern design and materials, flexible metal supports and nice rope and durable fabric. A sleeping bag and basic, tiny tent will run her nine copper. Versions with a waterproof coating and a bit more insulation are fifteen copper. Add an extremely basic alarm charm to the tent for 4c 8cp, or a 'Minor Crystal of Hysh - repels dhar!' for 12c.

She'll take a waterproofed one with an alarm charm for a silver and eight pennies. Then it's back to her room at the Fine Pine to get back her old clothes from the laundry service and pack them away in her bag.

After that, she'll go back down to Sharktooth's and see if there are any more cutters around than last time.

There are a few more now! Two women are arm wrestling on a table, someone is playing a lute, and one clique of cutters is sulking as if they just lost a fight, one man cradling his arm.

There is also a certain Fischer, morosely having some drinks and not paying too much attention to the crowd. Her big backpack is gone but she still has that mean looking harpoon and a gun.

She'll ask the clique of cutters and the Fischer woman if any of them are interested in going inland to Marondel. 

These fine boys and girls are all sailors and seafarers! Not gonna abandon the town. In fact, they're working up a plan for a big raid to take down the shark.

She blinks and stares a bit, startled, then thoughtful, then something unreadable.

"I'm, uh, not necessarily opposed, I guess. Since my boat is at the bottom of the ocean now. But why ask me?"

"For one thing you're a fellow gunwoman, which I appreciate. For a second thing you seem to be able to handle yourself. For a third thing it doesn't hurt that you're pretty. And lastly I figured it was likely you knew the area better than me."

"Oh." She blushes blue, apparently. Her eyes dart side-to-side, and she takes a hurried sip of beer to clear the embarrassment.

"Nothing quite like a bullet to stop your enemies. Unfortunately that last thing is not true. And I'd dispute the third as well. I am on a... Pilgrimage of sorts, I suppose I would call it."

"I agree. I'd ask to see your piece, but I don't think I know you that well yet. You came in from out of town too, then? I'm headed to sign up with the Adventurer's Guild."

"Yes. By boat. Without knowing about the Mutant Wave Ripper." Sigh. "'S a blessing that I was able to get to shore safely. I'm an E-rank adventurer. Mostly to dodge tolls. Is there a dungeon in Marondel, then? Oh-"

She reaches out for a handshake. "Abyssia, Fischer of the southern isles. Good to meet you."

She shakes her hand. "Thorn. Scout and soon-to-be adventurer, hoping to make something better than E. There's a dungeon in Marondel, I'm hoping to get together a delving party once I'm there."

"For the money or for levels?"

"Money first, levels second. I need to earn enough to afford a replacement piece, I was forced to abandon mine. Real shame too, it had accuracy and power enchantments."

Abyssia halfsmiles. "Real shame to waste a good gun. Mine are pretty basic - I've found having several guns with different characteristics serves me well, I can pull and fire fast without having to reload in an extended fight, hopefully. There are rapid-fire options I wish I could afford, but those cased cartridges for lever-actions and revolvers are expensive. Not to mention the guns themselves."

She nods along. "Mine was a repeater similar to a revolver - a bit different in design but got the job done. Honestly don't think I can afford a proper replacement anytime soon, but I'm working to change that."

"They say an adventurer's gear is their life. I think that's a bit shallow when we Fischers carve our life stories into ourselves and our tools, but there's something to that. I hear a B-ranker's armor costs several platinum."

"I can definitely believe that. There's really a long way to go between there and here, huh?" 

She runs a hand through her hair. "... I'm the kind of person where if you show them a rank system they want to be on top. Good dose of healthy caution atop that, but yeah. Levels second."

Sideways grin. "Me, I'm more practical. Levels first - even if levels aren't everything. Who cares about ranks and titles... Except for what resources or privileges they give you."

She laughs. "Oh, I like you. For me, the acknowledgement isn't really the thing - I just want to be able to take care of things like this overgrown fish without having to rely on a raid to do it, yeah? And that means I need to rank up."

"Oh, so you want the same thing I do, you're just using threat rank as an easy measure of it."

She takes a big draw on her beer, finishing it.

"...Do you drink? I'm honestly a little tipsy but I kind of neeeed this after spending all day salvaging what I could from saltwater. Powder's all bad. Guns all super clean. Took hours."

"I don't drink but I'll buy you a round to console you."

"I'll buy you a snack in turn. I don't want to be taking advantage of your generosity." She pauses and frowns. "I try to do the right thing. Even if, you know, people don't think Fischers are quite right in the head sometimes."

"So far I haven't seen anything that'd give me that impression; and anyway, best to judge people as individuals. They're endlessly varied and exciting if you take the time to know 'em."

"It's the religion," she says sadly. "People don't like it. But I am faithful." For some reason this makes her give a look of dark amusement tinged with guilt.

"What does that mean practically? I don't know much about Fischer religion."

She taps a finger on the bar and thinks.

"...Our gods are apparently creepy and - wrong. They say that the deep ones consider people like ants, to be used or brushed aside as no more than an annoyance. That they are trying to corrupt and destroy the world, even. This is incorrect. Some of them would kill people, sure, but some love us instead. They just... Don't understand very well."

"Ah," says Thorn. "And because of their misunderstandings, there's sometimes trouble?"

"Persecution. Raids on our communities with little or no international outcry, because 'everyone knows' those were foul cults up to no good. Sometimes they really were. There is a sovereign nation of Fischers, but it's very small and weak, so..." Sigh. "It is not so bad as all that. The world is full of trouble. But some kinds of trouble hit harder."

"For what it's worth, I understand something like that. I grew up in a place that... was not especially tolerant of women who appreciated other women. Different kind of stigma, but..."

Blink. "Really? Of all the things to fail to tolerate. Might as well decide to hate colorblind people, or, or, sailmakers."

Abyssia raises one arm as if to pat Thorn on the shoulder, then hesitates awkwardly and puts it back down.

She halfsmiles a little sadly. "I'm past it now, mostly. Thank you for the concern; but now let's move on to something less sad. What's with this pilgrimage you say you're on?"

"Oh. That's... Not entirely a happy subject either unfortunately. It's- Loosed to the currents. Some Fischerfolk are - encouraged to leave home and wander. Those who don't really have a place at home, mostly. Or those who have made a few too many enemies. To level up and learn new Skills and bring them back to their homes, eventually. It's kind of open ended, even if I also have - some other goal I can't figure out yet. Most loosed never come back, one way or another."

"Oh. I see." 

She sighs. 

"... It really sounds like you could use a traveling companion."

A dark look crosses her eyes, then one of guilt. "..Mmm, maybe. To Mar- To that town with the dungeon, I forgot the name, at least. I won't get worse off delving and saving up."

She nods. "Alright. I was planning to leave tomorrow, assuming I found someone to watch my back. Is that alright with you?"

"The two of us would probably be fine, but a bigger group is generally safer. Careful is good. Perhaps someone else wants to go inland. And maybe someone needs to get out of town and could use an escort. I'll ask around once I'm a little cleaned up, if that's alright?"

"That's fine. And... no, nevermind that. Later, when I know you better."

"Yeah, likewise. I'm staying in a solo room here if you need to find me. Bye for now."

She settles her bar tab and heads for the door at the back of the bar area.

Alright. She can't afford a pistol, and she's going to be walking all day on a dirt trail with a pack on her back. She can walk forever in the city with her sneakers. In the wilds... she'd be stupid not to have something with decent ankle support. 

So: hiking boots. Decent ones, at a full silver and four copper. And then... then she guesses she'll write a sign on the back of her repairs one. "Forming Marondel overland party, inquire here." And she'll hold that up in the square. 

There are a fair number of people interested, actually, especially since it's just a daytrip. With a population of a couple thousand, quite a few people would like to travel elsewhere on any given day, but the overland route is the only viable one at the moment. Inquiring minds want to know when she's leaving and what kind of pace she expects to set.

She expects to leave early tomorrow morning, set a leisurely pace and make it to Marondel in the afternoon with plenty of day to spare.

Someone tells her that there's actually a caravan-of-sorts already planned for around that time and pace, the list of attendees is posted on the boards outside the Lord House.

Well then she'll go join that! If she can find the Lord House. Has she passed it already?

It's an unassuming looking building, but in hindsight there's only a few places with bulletin boards. It's on a sort of side street between the bulk of town and the monastery. It's open to the public, and looks like someone built a fancy manor house and then kept adding things and squeezing out the surrounding buildings. There's a jail wing, an office wing, a big fancy courtroom, and a museum. As well as fancy residences in a private wing for said Lords, of whom there are apparently four at the moment.

The bulletin board posting lists eleven names and mentions that there are seats or spots for goods available on a wagon in the train.

Does it look like you can just go ahead and add your own name to the list? 

Yep. There's no pen hanging from the board or anything, but there are half a dozen examples of handwriting.

She'll add her own name to the list, then, and go inform Bys that they'll be leaving with the caravan.

She finds Abyssia walking down the street away from Sharktooth. 

"-Of course there's a caravan. Now I feel silly."

"Me too. But, well. Live and learn. So I'm unexpectedly free tonight, and I happen to have met a charming fischer woman. Would you like to talk some more? ...maybe more?"

She blushes blue, looks to the side, flexes her left hand a few times apparently as a nervous tic.

"-I should tell you something. It's- It could be no big deal, or it could be important, and it's a little weird. Well, pretty weird."

"I'll trade you a secret for a secret. But this sounds like the kind of thing that's best done in private. Might I invite you back to my room at the Fine Pine?"

"I was almost going to suggest that. Just as long as it's - I mean, this is a serious conversation and it's not that you're not attractive, but I don't want to think about that until we clear the waters."

She nods. "That's entirely fair."

She starts off towards the Fine Pine at a decent pace.

Abyssia follows at the same pace. She's a bit out of breath by the time they get to the other inn, and frowning.

She goes to her room in the Fine Pine, swipes the keycard, goes in and sits on the bed since there's nowhere else to sit.

Abyssia settles into a comfortable cross-legged pose on the floor like she's done it a thousand times.

"Flip a coin to see who talks first?" She digs out a copper penny. "Heads, me, Dungeon, you."

"... under the understanding that you'll swear not to talk about this to anyone else, that's agreeable."

"...Mh. I don't swear things lightly. Perhaps with some caveats."

She flips the coin.

"Heads. I'll tell you mine anyway, and think about it." Deep breath. "Many Fischers hear the voices of our gods when they commune or make a sacrifice. It's considered a blessing and a sign of worthiness to hear whispers. They're hard to interpret, but useful guidance. The thing is, I hear them all the time, mostly from a few specific - patrons. These are the kind and good deep ones, those who try their best to help we Fischers thrive. And they need me. I really don't like telling people about it because of the fear and dislike I told you about, but you don't care, do you?"

She flexes her left hand, drumming her fingers against her leg.

"And besides... I think you're important to whatever they need me for. I need to find 'the key'. Except the key is probably a metaphor for something, not an actual object. Someone, some place, some ritual I could do... It's hard to interpret their long-term advice, and it radically changes sometimes too. Short term advice like 'the twice-corrupted swimming maw hunts you!' is usually pretty easy to figure out. Anyway, I think you're important to things somehow. A few days ago they started getting really insistent I come here, and I think they were trying to tell me I should meet you. I have no idea what bees have to do with any of this, though..."

"Well," she says. "It's obvious why they'd want you to meet me. I'm the summoned hero." 

She takes her pencil from her pocket and sets it spinning in the air with her TK.

Abyssia sharply exhales and leans back, eyes wide.

With every year that passes, the chance that the next Demon Lord will arrive increases. And the next summoned hero as well, a man or woman or person who inevitably makes the history books of the era, shattering the existing order and becoming the most important person in the world. History gives them patterns to work by. The Demon Lord and Summoned Hero fight with mountain-destroying, crater-causing, cataclysmically powerful magic. There are dozens and dozens of distinct landmarks left behind by climactic showdowns. The lake known as Demon's Mark, mere hundreds of miles away, is the result of Demon Lord Beria Vulcan attempting to summon a massive army of infernal creatures, only to be stopped by legendary Shieldmaiden Bridgitte Gaulle, one of the Hero Rei Atsuka's Companions, in a climactic battle that caused all the energy invested in whatever foul ritual was being attempted to explode.

And destiny and her gods have brought her here, to her. If she is to be one of the Summoned Hero's Companions... She has a place in history. She'll be one of the figures of legend, caught up in a titanic struggle, the adventure of a dozen lifetimes, savior of the world. She needs to be whatever the Summoned Hero needs. As much as part of her wishes to take that power and use it for herself right now, the entire world is at risk. If the Demon Lord's reign is not stopped, the slaughter would be... Immeasurable. Is that her purpose? Is that her destiny? It's a rush of shock and pride to imagine it so. It's something she would throw herself into without reservation. Because it would be needed.

But...

Telekinesis is not such a strange Skill. There are surely any number of magical disciplines that allow it. The repairing-objects she exhibited earlier adds a complication to the simple explanation, the one her mind now tries to leap to, that she's lying... What does she trust more than anything else? The whispers. And they think Thorn is very important. She'll ask, later, back in her room, with her personal shrine and a sacrifice of blood.

"Blood and darkness... This is a big fucking deal, if it's true. Blood and fucking darkness... Do you have any idea-" She cuts herself off. "The fate of the world. The world. How many billions of people is that? I swear upon my life, once I seek answers from the Garden of Eyes, if you speak truth, I shall never reveal this vital secret even unto death or undeath. Fuck."

She smiles ruefully. "It's true. I have a couple more tricks to show you, all magic from my homeworld written on me in these tattoos." 

She makes phantom flame in her hand; then she steps up into the air, hovers, and steps back down again. "I can't show off my flight or my teleportation ritual too easily, you'll have to trust that this little levitation is just the bones of flight. And trust me that the teleportation ritual exists - it takes an hour. My gun was of an advanced make that doesn't exist on this world; my athame was of black glass, obsidian, and carved with runes not unlike these on my arms. But lastly - my Unique Skill. May I have your hand?"

"I am going to ask my most perceptive patron, the Garden of Eyes, with a ritual of my own. If they say 'yes'... I will devote myself to what is obviously, overwhelmingly the most important thing I could be doing. You may." She reaches out.

She takes Bys' hand, and taps the Chronobank. Haste Other. 

She feels the change. She raises her hand and snaps her fingers in, perceptually, slow motion. She swishes a lock of her hair forwards and watches it splay out and fall.

She can't feel any magic on her. Thorn didn't take time to focus and cast, like an ordinary Haste-type spell requires. She counts the subjective seconds, estimates the objective time passing- It's impressive.

"What I just experienced is the kind of magic I would expect an A-rank adventurer to be able to wield. I'm... Gods. I think I believe you. I'm going to check, but..."

She nods, smiles. "Trust, but verify. I understand. Should I leave you to contemplate in peace?"

"...Do you think they have a large, shallow bowl I could borrow? Dark colored, if possible. I'll do it right here. Checking, I mean."

"Seems like the kind of thing they might have. Want to go check together?"

She takes a deep breath, eyes closed.

"Sure."

She follows Thorn downstairs in somewhat of a daze. A bowl is easily acquired. She fills it with water from her canteen, back in Thorn's room. 

"It could be bad if you interrupt. Probably wouldn't be a big deal, but please don't."

She cuts the side of her arm lightly with a belt knife, and lets deep red blood drip into the bowl for a few seconds. Then she puts a small bandage on and says a small nonsense-poem that cleans her knife.

And then... She stares into the bowl, holding her hands over it, and chanting about needing advice, needing truth, sacrificing for information...

Something is definitely happening. It's completely silent except for Abyssia's resonating chanting. The water in the bowl has turned pitch black. The bowl seems to expand more and more despite staying the same size. It's almost hypnotic, like you could fall in and be lost forever.

There is a voice, whispering from everywhere. Thorn can't understand it.

"Is she the Summoned Hero?"

-whisper whisper whisper-

She makes a face. "...Is this Thorn here with me from another world?"

-whisper whisper whisper-

"Okay. Okay. Her quest is vital, then. Should I follow her, for the sake of the world?"

-whisper whisper whisper-

"...I will take that as a yes. What else do I need to know, Garden of Eyes?"

-whisper whisper whisper-

"I don't understand."

-whisper whisper whisper-

"Now, or soon, or after many moons?"

-whisper whisper whisper-

"...Thank you for your guidance, Garden of Eyes. Ilk'na!"

And the spell ends. The bowl is clear water no, no trace of blood.

Abyssia sighs and looks tired.

"It thinks you should kill that Mutant Wave Ripper... I think. That or another powerful non-dungeon monster. And it wouldn't say when. And it said you're the Hero. So. What now?"

"Currently, well. I died, and then I woke up here. Everything is new to me. So do you mind if I ask some absolutely stupid basic questions I can't ask without looking weird?"

"Of course. I'll answer as best I can."

"First things first - hysh, and ghur, and dhar. My impression is that these are different - essences, or elements, of magic? But I don't have the complete pattern and I don't know what they are in and of themselves except that dhar is bad news. Do you know?"

"The Winds of Magic. Sorcery uses them - not everyone can learn sorcery, but most people have nonzero talent if they put in the effort, the blocker is ability to sense the Winds of Magic, and I can't. The Winds sort of... Mutate reality a bit. They are magic, one form of it at least, some say the most primal and basic form but certainly not the only magic in the world. So they can also cause... Wild magic, I suppose. They influence the world and are linked to, drawn to, certain emotions and phenomena. You can find yourself worked up in a place rich in Aqshy, and fires start more easily there."

"Dhar is very bad news. Dhar is how you get corrupted swamps and stuff. Formed when the other Winds mix together too tightly, like a rot. Used for necromancy, induces megalomania, paranoia, evil. Azyr, the Blue Wind, the Lore of the Heavens. Inspiration, learning, the sky, and lightning. Aqshy, the Red Wind, the Lore of Fire. Passion and temper and... Fire, heat. Chamon, the Yellow Wind, the Lore of Metal. Diligence, craftsmanship, curiosity, metals. Ghur, the Brown Wind, the Lore of Beasts. Primal urges and instincts, kill eat fuck - and animals and monsters. Ghyran, the Green Wind, the Lore of Life. Growth, life, plants, healing, satisfaction. Hysh, the White Wind, the Lore of Light. Purity and clarity of purpose, as well as light. Good against Dhar. Shyish, the Purple Wind, the Lore of Death. Death and thoughts of death, but also - rest, the mercy of oblivion. Ulgu, the Grey Wind, the Lore of Shadow - Confusion, boundaries, tricks, shadow."

She nods along, committing the whole explanation to her permanent memory. "Thank you, that's very helpful. And... have you ever seen or heard of a gun that worked like this?" She cuts off the bottom of her sign where there's space she's not using and sketches the action of her pistol, which is of course a modern magazine-fed gun. She has a good enough understanding of its inner workings to diagram the mechanism.

"...So this spring here, and... Hmm... How does the box of bullets stay in? No, nevermind, that's easy to do... So the bolt here slams back to set the hammer, and pushes the next bullet in when it comes back forward... But the hammer's locked until the bolt is forward here... And the trigger releases it like normal, but... That weird internal action looks really delicate, wouldn't the springs wear out... Yeah, never seen anything like this. Seems pretty clever, I don't think I'm seeing all the advantages yet though. I wouldn't rule out this existing somewhere, but it seems really hard to make and most of the big name heroes use magic, swords, or bows and I wouldn't know if some random B or A-ranker has one. What the hell is this part for?" She is pointing at the safety.

"That's the safety. If it's on the gun won't fire, like so. Helps prevent accidents, though it's no substitute for proper handling and trigger discipline."

"-Yeah, I can see how it locks it up. Huh. Good idea, I guess, but really if you pull the trigger you should expect a bang."

"Yeah, you should. They haven't solved stupidity on my world either. If you don't mind moving on... What are dungeons in this world like?"

"Firearms Safety level 1 stops it from being an issue, do you let completely untrained people play with guns all the time or something?"

She huffs.

"What exactly do you mean, what are dungeons like? You... Go in them and kill monsters and get loot drops, then either keep and use or sell the loot. They're very good for levelling."

"We don't have Skills like you do - you can train at something and get competent at it, but you'll never gain a level in it. So even people who should be theoretically several levels in have accidents sometimes. Hence safeties." She shrugs. 

"Dungeons in my world are - you don't build a town near one, for one thing. They're usually remnants of cursed magic, ruins of fallen empires, or dens of savage species that don't get along with humans. There can be treasure in them - old hoards of dead kings, monster parts that are worth something, spellbooks preserved by antiaging magic - but I wouldn't describe them as having "loot drops." That sounds like something from a game to me."

"You... Don't have Skills? I will. Think about that later. Those sorts of things are considered 'ruins' or 'dives'. A dungeon is... It keeps making new monsters, and whenever you kill the monsters they evaporate but sometimes leave behind useful things. And there are treasure chests inside, too, to entice people to take risks, that get refilled by the dungeon occasionally. They're sort of alive, not really smart but - they'll react to you if you do something they don't like, like easily slaughtering every monster on the first floor when you could go several down instead. I think they're sustained by adventurers fighting inside them somehow, and the occasional delver's death."

"Huh." says Thorn. "That's kind of freaky. Dungeons on my world aren't alive even a little bit." 

She runs a hand through her hair, drums her fingertips on the back of her neck. "What do you know about the history of past Heroes? I'm not looking for a lot of detail yet, but I should know who came before me."

"Do you want to know- What the legends say they could do, how the time of the Summoned Hero tends plays out- Where do Heroes come from, the books didn't say-"

"How it usually plays out, then the legends. I come from a world that has... more than here. It's a world where the use of sophisticated machines and magics has ended aging, the need to sleep, distances longer than a short walk... It's not a paradise, but it's closer to one than here. I was a scout who brought new worlds into the fold; hence why I'm already used to figuring everything out from scratch."

"...Amazing. Bringing entire worlds into paradise... Exploring new and dangerous places... Without Skills!"

Thorn blushes. "I just said it wasn't paradise, weren't you paying attention? But yeah... people like me are rare, even back home. I think that's why the summoning selected me."

"Of course the Summoned Hero is the best at this. I'm having trouble just being on the mainland of a world I've lived in my whole life..." She's looking at Thorn with something like adoration.

"Right. Uh. I'm not a Hero Scholar, I'm just working off a couple levels in World History here... The Demon Lord ascends to power quickly, using dark magic, evil rituals, mass conquest and cursed items, public cruelties. Sometimes they operate in secrecy, building webs of blackmail and bribery and mind control. Sometimes openly, with unstoppable brutal conquest. We don't actually have much detail on how these things play out, because the conflicts are always... Insanely destructive. Epic scale. It's almost always the Demon Lord versus the Summoned Hero in a climactic showdown in the end, wielding the kind of power that can level mountains. The lord's minions and the hero's companions can help and support them in combat, but never have quite the same potential. At most, a heroic companion could foil a scheme or hold off the Demon Lord for long enough that the Hero arrives... Six Heroes ago, I think, the Hero merely held the Demon Lord in place while one of their companions used a supercharged version of Black Hole to kill him, and the companion was turned into a walking corpse from the backlash."

"If the Demon Lord wins, the world is more or less razed to the ground and all prior history is reduced to what can be discerned from oral history and the best hidden caches - and if the Hero wins, they go on pursuing whatever their cause is and there's absolutely nobody who can stop them, by then. Sometimes that's setting up democracies. Sometimes that's whatever weird whims they happen upon like a multispecies harem or founding the largest city in the world, or recreating things from their worlds. I think it must be 'worlds', not a single other one. Sometimes that's a peaceful quiet life somewhere out of the way. The Hero's early days are usually entirely concerned with growing stronger and richer, gathering allies and resources. But - people panic. The Summoned Hero means the end of the world. It means... Well, Heroes have their own morals and causes, right, multiple heroes have gone around executing every king whose kingdom used slave collars after their victory, so powerful people tend to act - unpredictably - about the Hero. And the downtrodden will all want your aid. Um. I know the rule of thumb is, more than one year, less than ten, before things come to a head. I remember hearing that it's absolutely vital for the Hero to keep the exact details of their Unique Skill a secret, so the Demon Lord can't take advantage of it. You should probably never haste someone else again unless it's a dire emergency."

"Thank you, I think that's all. My plan remains the same - get rich, get leveled, get ready for the Demon Lord. Maybe kiss you along the way if I have a spare moment - but that's getting ahead of ourselves, given everything I've dropped on you. I recommend you head back to your inn and sleep."

"I-If you want, then-" Deep breath. "Just let me know if you need any help preparing. I'll do my best to help with things. Cover you if you earn suspicion. Tell you if something comes up I think you might not know. Sorry if I don't guess that very well. Uh... Would you like one of my pistols?"

"I think I should be fine, I'm used to long journeys. As for giving me a pistol - draws too much attention, I think. Unless you want everyone to think we had sex."

She blushes, but, "I don't care whether anyone thinks we had sex. It's not like I know these people. Even if I did care, you're important. I care more that the Summoned Hero is safe and growing."

Thorn blushes. 

"... Alright, fair enough. Can we get some practice in with it before bed, then? I still need to form a firearms skill in this world."

"I don't have many teaching Skills and we can't actually shoot indoors, but definitely."

She proceeds to give a lesson. The one she has is a two-barreled flintlock pistol with black powder in paper cartridges and iron bullets.

She's worked with reproduction firearms before to familiarize herself with their function; she makes no major errors. "I don't know a good backstop for practice shooting here, or I'd ask to go shoot."

"There's probably a reinforced practice area somewhere. Ask the local government if nothing else. I'm getting tired and I kind of need to process, though. I think I need to go to sleep now..."

"Alright, go do that, I don't mean to tire you out. And I'll go hunt for that practice area, if I can borrow some of your powder and shot."

She has belt pouches of both, she hands them over.

"Goodnight and good luck, Thorn."

And then Abyssia is out the door and gone.

She goes and searches for a shooting range in the town; after all, she needs less sleep than Abyssia.

Enough searching will reveal an archery range just outside the walls, facing a hill. When asked, the people there say guns are fine; It's paid for by the Lords who consider it a worthy investment, to get more people to be in fighting shape, but it's expected to leave a copper or two in a lockbox if you're not a local.

She heads out and drops a couple copper in the lockbox; then it's time to level her Skill and get used to this new piece.

She gets a Skill! Her aim is now steadier and she can feel how much this gun is going to buck, and what the weight is doing to her grip. Just like with the knife, it's mostly doing a lot of work to make up for her unfamiliarity with the specific piece.

She gets another Skill! Loading those fiddly paper cartridges now goes a fair bit faster.

She practices until she thinks she's down to the accuracy of the gun or half out of powder or bullets, whichever comes first, and then heads back to the hotel to sleep. Even she needs some rest.

She runs out of powder first.

Nothing disturbs her sleep.

In the morning she goes and quickly buys a holster for her gun (auto resizing like her sheath, eight copper one silver) and meets up with the caravan at the planned gathering-place, looking around for Bys.

Her white dots are a lot more noticeable in the early morning twilight. Bioluminescent or something. She has her giant backpack and a different gun on a hip holster, her harpoon on the other side.

"Hey, Thorn. Did some thinking. 'M ready to go. ...Want to hear more about Fischers since you've, uh, never met one before me? Or about other stuff."

She falls in alongside her, hefting her own pack. "I'd like to hear more about Fischers, sure."

"Mostly just things you should know if we get into a fight. We have gills. We're very tolerant of the cold, not so much of heat." She indicates her own light shirt and pants despite the chilly morning. "We're stronger than comparably levelled humans but have much worse endurance, so a cross country hike will be a bit of a pain for me, even if I can handle it."

Thorn nods along. "Do you have much trailcraft?", she asks.

"Not really. I got the general Survival skill figuring stuff out on my own, but... One level. 'M much better at boats. Sadly, we don't have one right now."

"Yeah, it's a shame. Must have taken you forever to get your own boat."

"Loosed get a gold coin from the community to support them on their journey as tradition. It bought that boat, and little else," she grouses.

"Damn, what a blow. I'm going to have to get that shark back for you one day."

"Heh. Thanks. Though, I did have it for about two months, it brought me here. Not a total waste."

The crowd milling around the north gate is growing. Others are chatting. Here comes the wagon that the paper said would come, drawn by horses.

"I used about half the powder you gave me - you have your own supply still, right? Or should we quickly stock up before we go?"

"I have my own supply still. I have another pistol, single shot, and a breech loading shotgun. And I think there'll be better selection there, dungeon towns are bigger and more prosperous."

"What else do you think we might be able to find there?"

"Everything a sizable town has? I'm trying to guess but I don't know what you expect... More inn selection, restaurants, the dungeon and Guild, a bank, a library, better equipment being sold, maybe a small school though the really good universities that attract high-level teachers will be in a large city, entertainment stuff like theaters and game clubs and tattoo parlors, transit further on, support industries like wagon-making or farriers..."

"I'm interested in trying to learn to see the Winds. Do you think they'd have a mage who'd know how to train me?"

"Sorcerers, not mages. There will probably be at least a few sorcerers? I'm less sure about one willing to teach you. They're fairly rare since it's a dangerous thing to learn."

"Ah, I see. I think I have a good chance of being able to see properly, if I can just find a teacher. We might be on a trek to the big city sometime soon "

Abyssia nods in reply and glances around. The wagon is here now, and about a dozen people.

"I think we'll get going soon. Most likely nothing will happen on the trip. If something does happen, real fighting is much, much better at levelling than practice. I suppose it'd be your call what to do."

"I'm confident I can handle myself if it comes to that; I'm more concerned about showing off my sick moves too much." She grins. "And I won't stand by if civilians are at risk."

"Alright everyone!" A scarred woman suddenly bellows. "Caravan's going to start walking in one minute. It's a routine trip, so don't worry - and if any monsters attack, stay calm and listen to me!"

Thorn nods, checks her holster and her sheath again, and starts walking when the group starts moving.

Abyssia is not very talkative on the march. At least it's no faster than a walk. She can tolerate it.

They encounter a batch of Forest Spiders two hours in. The scarred woman detects them first, indicates their direction, scouts ahead a bit, then calls for volunteers to join the extermination.

Thorn volunteers to help out. She needs to get in some proper target practice with her new gun.

"Just be aware you'll take a loss on those bullets," the caravan leader comments sardonically.

The Forest Spiders are about a foot and a half across each, covered in green mossy fuzz and with relatively dangerous looking fangs. There are about a dozen of them - and they charge forward erratically as soon as the approaching group (Sword-wielding leader, Bys, Thorn, and some guy with a mace) is close enough to hear!

Thorn snaps off a shot, then holsters her gun and draws her dagger.

The bullet hits home and causes one to tumble, dead. The spiders' erratic, savage charge is not particularly coordinated. Thorn can account for another with her dagger as it tried to leap onto her. Abyssia harpoons two. The guy with the mace gets three, and their leader with her sword accounts for the remaining five in a flurry of violence that begins with a barked command word that shoots a bolt of green light from her glove and ends with three lightning-fast sword strokes that each bisect a spider.

The monsters lie dead on the ground, already going slightly fuzzy at the edges.

"Right. I don't give a shit about Forest Spiders. Damn nuisances. You three can split them."

"Here," Bys says to mace guy and Thorn. "The fangs and eyes are the only thing on these that are worth anything. Four spiders for each of us. Let's all harvest them together."

Mace guy shrugs and starts hauling the messy spider corpses into a pile.

Thorn's accustomed to this sort of messy butchery on occasion. She's a deft enough hand to pass.

"Works for me," she says.

It doesn't take very long.

"I think the shares will earn about three copper each, but I don't know the Guild's official rate and cut. Forest Spider fangs and eyes aren't exactly rare. We could try to find a buyer ourselves, but it's not worth it for coppers. The Guild is a trusted clearing house for monster parts. We should wait until you sign up, or just have me sell both our cuts."

"Probably better for me to learn the basics of a guild account on my own," says Thorn, pocketing a few eyeballs and a fang into her belt pouch. "I mean to sign up as soon as I can in any case."

Nod, nod.

Back to marching. The rest of the trip is uneventful, aside from a half-hour pause for lunch when one of the civilians tells a rambling funny story about a monk and a child's amusing misunderstandings.

The walls of Marondel are higher, and topped with actual parapets. The guards here once again want to ask their names and business, but they don't do that truth effect again.

"Thorn, here to sign up with the Adventurer's Guild and do some dungeon delving."

"Abyssia. E rank adventurer. Here for the dungeon too."

They're waved through with directions to the Guild office - second right, then third left, and then you can see it from there.

Bys is getting a lot more suspicious looks here than in the fishing village. There doesn't seem to be a Fischer community in this town. She tries to ignore the looks, but embarrassedly says, "You might want to go around without me. Fischers aren't, well, you see."

"I'd rather have a solid guide with me than go alone, and I enjoy your company. I can deal with the looks."

She follows directions to the Guild.

She digs out her badge and pins it to her robes. The looks dial down a lot after that.

The Guild's front is an expansive lobby-like area, like a bank or a government office. There's couches and bulletin boards to one side. The greeter asks their business, then directs them to the appropriate line for new registrations. Abyssia splits off to go sell her spider parts, and says she'll be in the cafe across the street.

Apparently registering as an E-rank adventurer involves a fee of three silver coins, monthly dues of five silver coins, and then they take 1/3 of all loot earned in a dungeon. This is used to upkeep the Guild's services as a centralized broker for goods and work, to serve as insurance against security risks and untimely deaths (they pay out quite a lot for deaths of registered Adventurers, to whoever is listed for them, no you can't waive this), and to pay Crown and city taxes.

She puts down Abyssia's name as her next of kin, hands over her last three silver, and registers as Thorn. 

She can also optionally have a Skill and Stat reading done, to help her gauge her strengths and weaknesses! And she should be aware that some Adventurers Guild organizations have different policies and most memberships are non-transferrable, at least not directly.

... that skill and stat reading is going to throw some major wrenches, isn't it. She'll decline for now. 

Off to meet with Abyssia again, brandishing her shiny new badge. 

"Hey, check it out. We'll have to make that dungeon run for dues if nothing else, but I am officially an E Rank Adventurer!"

"Huzzah!" A rare smile from Abyssia. "Dungeon money adds up fast."

"Glad to hear it. How do you advance to D or better rank anyway?"

"There's a couple different milestones. So many missions, or so much loot turned in, or killed a certain boss, then you apply for it - and the monthly fee goes up but the cut they take goes down, so it only makes sense to rank up if you'll make more money on net."

She nods. "Let's see about our first dungeon experience then, since we aren't going to get anywhere standing around yakking. If we could find someone experienced to party lead that would be lovely."

"Hey, I've done a few dives... Fair, though. Come on."

She takes them back into the Guild, and asks around the waiting area. People do seem to be forming parties there. There are about a dozen folks hanging out, mostly human, mostly seeming to fight with ordinary weapons. Though one guy apparently makes and uses stored spells in crystals- An artificer.

After making a circuit of the room she asks Thorn, "Do we want to go in with that fighter and artificer pair, or those two crossbow-and-spear girls, you think? The latter seem more veteran, but, magic."

"Experience first in my book. Magic can be powerful but it's no substitute for a sensible head."

"Right."

She walks back over to them.

"Hey. Like I said, we're new in town and looking to do a run, get familiar with the local dungeon. You two look like you're about to do the same. What level were you intending to go to?"

"Second. We're not confident about the second floor boss with just us two. But with four-"

"It's actually going to be Thorn's first dive."

"Ah, fresh meat," the other comments. "We're steadily working our way up to D, but not there yet. I guess we're the seniors today."

"Yeah. We'll appreciate your guidance. She's a decent fighter, though," Abyssia insists. "Just, not an adventurer until now. First floor, all four of us together, down to the second if we feel confident?"

They look at each other.

"I don't like splitting the loot that many ways," the blonde one comments.

"Safety in numbers," brunette counters.

"True. And the run can be a lot shorter with four."

"Alright, let's do it. Welcome to the party. We can get to know each other on the way over."

"Great," says Thorn. "I'm looking forwards to fighting with you all. I'm assuming you two will be taking the lead with your spears while the pair of us support with gunfire and the occasional stabbing?"

"We also have ranged weapons." She pats her crossbow. "On levels one and two we don't have to pay too much attention to party balance. You won't be making as much if you spend bullets on floor one monsters, though."

"And some of them aren't really the kind of thing that bullets work on. This dungeon has the most annoying frost slimes." She makes a face.

"I can do melee. I'm good with the harpoon. And you're right about bullets being expensive, but Thorn wants to level her shooting."

"I can do melee too, I know my knifework. Just no sense in taking unnecessary risks."

"Come on, let's get going. Sooner we start sooner we're done." She starts walking out the door to the Guild. "Introductions. I'm Jeanne, that's Kelsey. Abyssia can be frontline, I'll be backline, Kelsey front-mid and Thorn mid, sound good?"

"Sounds good," says Thorn. "I don't know the positions offhand but I'll follow your lead."

"Oh, right, sorry. It's a little complicated and more of a thing in serious delving groups, but basically, backline watches the sides and rear for anything sneaking up on us, maybe sneaks in a ranged attack or two. Frontline is the first to meet the enemy, to keep them busy and deal damage - do you have a shield?"

Abyssia nods and pulls out a buckler from her big backpack, then begins strapping it to her arm.

"Front-mid engages in melee or ranged attacks as necessary to support the frontline, damage dealer. Mid is a dedicated damage dealer with ranged attacks. Left and right guards specifically watch their flank and hold the line there. Support would be behind mid and include some magic users, casting buffs or areas of effect and the like, or someone we're escorting for whatever reason."

"Very sensible, would've shortened some of my conversations considerably. Lead on!"

They get to the dungeon. There is a checkpoint.

The dungeon's first floor monsters include, but are not limited to, Snow Bunnies ('vicious little bastards,' complain their guides), Frost Slimes (blobs of light blue translucent matter whose motion and attacks chill everything around them to a dangerous degree), Pine Needlers (animate miniature pine trees with legs, which shoot sharp needles at enemies), and Lesser Dark Crows, whose attacks mostly consist of pecking.

The loot is weird and not entirely related to the slain monsters, but most of it seems useful to someone, somehow.

Thorn is shooting in real conditions, close-in with friendlies mixed with enemies. It's good practice. 

"What's the first floor boss?" Abyssia asks after a while. "We can probably handle it, right? No injuries so far."

"It's an Icicle Boar. Strong melee combatant, slow aura, and a cone breath attack with a range of twenty feet or so. I'd say we should be good, yeah. Unless someone else has come through recently, it'll be spawned. Maybe one of us will take a hit, but that's the risk you take delving, neh?"

"I'm up for it. I'd like to see what a boss monster is like."

"It's just the first floor boss."

They head in a particular direction through the maze of chilly forest-themed caves. For some reason the dungeon's boss room has a bathroom just outside it. Their guides say to rest up a bit before continuing.

... She'll take the opportunity to go to the bathroom, assuming it's safe. What a convenience. And then it's time for the boss.

Dungeon bathrooms are always safe! If nobody could trust them, nobody would use them, and they'd stay in dungeons for much less time. The bigger dungeons have camping areas starting around level ten, and those you have to stand guard in.

The boss room is a large circular space, maybe a hundred feet across. When the party enters, the door slams heavily behind them.

The Icicle Boar stands as tall as a person, more the size of a bull than a pig. Its tusks do indeed look like giant icicles.

"Movement is going to be key, with no tank. We should spread out and keep dodging as much as you can, try to keep hitting it with ranged attacks."

The boar is now fully awake and glaring at them, snorting out clouds of frost.

Then it charges, and everyone moves.

Thorn dashes sideways, mindful of the place of the party, and unloads her double-barreled pistol as she goes. She follows the lead of the rest of the party while she reloads (bite off the top of the cartridge with her teeth, tip in the powder, seat the ball, stuff the paper in as wadding...) 

Three bullets and two crossbow bolts lance into the boss monster, but hardly slow it down. They just seem to make it angry, really, even as one bolt sticks out of its leg and the other from its flank.

It turns and charges Abyssia first. With a loud scream, she stands in a defensive stance, and she dodges sideways at the last moment, catching one ice-tusk on her buckler with a loud impact. Frost forms all over her shield and arm. She grunts in pain and strikes back, stabbing her harpoon into the same leg already hit by a crossbow bolt. Then she turns and runs, to stand clear enough for the others to shoot again.

She's on the run and not so confident about this, but she still snaps off a shot as soon as Abyssia's clear. Then again, reload - 

She hits. Reloading is a smooth and efficient motion, with her Skills helping.

It's Jeanne's turn to be the target next - she abandons her crossbow on the ground with a clatter to dodge and ready her spear, catching it across the tusks and breaking one before dodging away. Abyssia has gotten out her shotgun and unloads directly into its flank.

The boar is clearly wounded now, bleeding ice from holes in its side. The broken tusk is already reforming. If anything it's even angrier, stomping after and trying to trample the spear-holding Jeanne.

She fires again, watchful of the danger Jeanne could now be in. She could dart in and strike - no, she's mid. Trust the strategy!

Their group is more or less broken down in the chaos, but Abyssia moves forward again, loosing another shell and then demanding the boss's attention via harpoon, letting Jeanne escape and her partner to hit it with another crossbow bolt.

"We're doing great!" Jeanne shouts. "Just watch out for-"

"AUUGH!" Abyssia screams in pain as a wave of freezing energy washes over her.

Thorn grabs the boar with her telekinesis to keep it from following up, and ducks in towards Abyssia, ready to grab her if she needs assistance moving. She rakes her dagger down the side of the boar on the way.

"F-Fine- Stop-" She's still moving, but slowly, and she's shaking. Her harpoon sticks in one of its joints, locking up that leg. She shoves, and the boar falls on its side.

Another crossbow bolt thumps into the monster's back as it writhes, trying to free itself from telekinesis. Then Jeanne charges in with a roar, and carves out its throat, and it stops moving.

She lets go her TK, and seizes Abyssia in a hug. 

"Don't worry me like that." 

She turns to the fallen boar. "So, now what?"

"Now, we catch our breath and wait for it to evaporate."

"And bitch about who gets the boss loot!" Kelsey adds. "You alright, Fischer girl? Fischers are resistant to cold, right?"

She hugs Thorn back, shivering. "Yeah, I think I'm fine. Been hurt worse. But fuck that was cold."

"Alright." 

Thorn unhugs Abyssia after a couple moments, and reloads both barrels of her gun. 

"So," she says. "Do we continue on to level two or is that a run limiting injury?"

"That's up to you guys," Jeanne says. "We're going to keep going regardless, I think. So we'd need to split the loot fairly."

The big boar is starting to turn to a glowing mass, flakes of crystalline light floating upwards and vanishing, blue blood evaporating into nothingness.

"I-I have some toughness skills, I can fight at full effectiveness even a little injured. It was pretty inevitable that someone got hurt there, I think, and I was running interference for Thorn and you two on purpose- Maybe I should get better armor. Embrace it. Anyway, I'd say we all continue, but don't take any risks on the second floor."

"I'll go with Bys on this, she knows better than me how much she can take. I trust her."

"Either of you two think it was acting a little weird at the end there?"

"-Well, I had it in the front leg joint. It couldn't move right."

Jeanne shrugs. The boss finishes decaying away, revealing a fairly huge slab of slightly blue raw pork, rimed with frost.

"...I guess that's going in my backpack. Only one it'll fit in."

"Alright, let's keep going. I'm reloaded and ready."

She smiles at Bys and nods slightly.

Abyssia... Sits down to catch her breath, and maybe leans on Thorn slightly.

After a short break, she reloads too, and they're off again.

None of the second floor monsters present as much of a challenge as the first floor boss, even if all four of them take a bruise or scratch at some point. Luckily Jeanne thinks to warn them of the Frost Spiders' tendency to set ambushes above entrances.

It's evening by the time the group of four return to the surface, sweaty and tired and almost out of ammo.

"Do we want to keep any of our loot, or should we just turn it all in and even split the proceeds, four ways?" she asks the group. "I might want some of the meat, so I can chew on the thing that hurt me, but nothing else."

Thorn rummages through the small pile of gear, pauses at the ring of frost resistance, shakes her head. "No, there's nothing here worth keeping for me. Sell it all."

They sell it all, even the meat hunk. After the Guild's cut and splitting it four ways, they're left with two silver, three copper, and seven copper pennies each. Jeanne and Kelsey wave a cheerful goodbye, saying 'see you tomorrow for another run maybe!'

Once they're alone, Abyssia says, "...You shouldn't have risked yourself to help me, I think."

"Your life is worth more than that secret. I had to make a snap call, and it passed fine. And - look, I like you, I'm attracted to you, I'm not going to let you die. Period."

"I would've been fine. Probably. The-" Pause. "The Hero's Companions tend to die. Saving cities. Saving the Hero. Saving the world." Pause again. "I guess it's far too early for that."

"If you're going to inevitably die heroically then I'd at least like to kiss you first. And have you not die to a first level boss." A teasing note's crept into her voice. "That would just be a waste if you're supposed to save at least a whole city."

"Sorry. I just- Everything feels so big and important since last night. Too big, too important, like everything is ruined forever if I make the slightest fuckup-"

"Clearly not. You got injured but everything was fine. Chill. Metaphorically. And..." 

She sighs. "I hate to encourage you to think of yourself as "for me", but - if you're for me, be someone I can be myself with. When things get rough we can't be a goddess and her worshipper. We need to be fast friends, at least. And I'd like more than that, but... it would hardly be fair to ask, now would it."

"...No, it wouldn't, would it? I'd feel the same way."

She takes deep breaths.

"Let's get something to eat together as friends. And i-if I decide I want to k-kiss you. It'll be because I want to, not because I think you want me to want to. This I promise."

"Yeah, let's. You can introduce me to your favorite foods, I don't know the local specialties."

...

"And thank you for the promise. It means a lot."

"Yeah. Now I see how it's... Wronging you to not do that. So. This way."

Abyssia likes fried fish, spicy pickles, and a sweet milkshake-like fruit drink called 'smashes', served cold via minor application of frost magic. All of these can be got from street food stalls while they keep walking.

"What was your home like?"

"Teleportation circles everywhere, paid for by public works and available for everyone. Apartments squished together in pocket dimensions. Prominent red-light districts. If you had no money and no skills you could make a living suffering pain for other people. Some people got very good at that and expanded to courtesan work. And wherever you went there was a merchant venture called the OTC that sold lifespan, rest, memory, and freedom from pain. It was never a place I really fit in. It was too civilized."

She shakes her head. "I think I would've liked it? The most exciting thing to happen in North Sparwater most weeks was someone losing a fishing net, or how Father Govus's latest sermon is a bit hypocritical, or how Kevin botched someone's tattoo. Such a small place."

"That, my world was not. It was a very, very large place. Growing all the time."

"I think I'm actually really glad they basically kicked me out. I've done so much more since then... I'm going to need new ink soon, to go with my new adventures."

"You journal? Or do you mean on your skin?"

"Tattoos."

She grins and pulls up her shirt's left sleeve.

"Anchor chain, one link per year I'm a sailor, on both sleeves. These squares and diamonds list my family, sort of. Parents, brother, sister. Powder horn and pistol here, that one's obvious-" She points at a symbol, triangle-within-circle, "Mark of the deeps, for hearing whispers. On my other arm I have a mailed fist and fangs for helping kill a dangerous turtle, and a stylized sloop on the wind, for being loosed."

"Beautiful. Your skin tells the story of your life, just like the scrimshawing on a harpoon." 

She taps her memory crystal. "My life's story is right here."

She blushes and smiles and tugs her sleeve back down and sort of wishes Thorn had... Traced her finger along the tattoos or something.

"I wonder what's appropriate for... All this. We're leaving standard symbology territory, here. Maybe a swallow, 'great journey'. Or sword, 'dungeon diver'."

Thorn takes a drink of her smash while she thinks. 

"A lotus blossom means 'welcome pain' to me; that might be an option for you. Thorns, both for 'travails' and for the obvious reason. Ivy, for endurance and growth. Sorry if I'm being too floral here."

"I'm not used to floral and that's not the Fischer tradition, but it does have a sort of appeal. Speaking of growth, did you notice how many levels you got down there? It can be hard to tell. I'm trying to guess whether your, uh, your family tendency to level quickly is an innate thing or a thing because you find yourself in high stakes a lot."

"Give me a moment to check my memory."

She taps her chronobank and plunges into her memory stone, searching for moments where things became abruptly easier.

Shooting, twice. Dodging, twice. Reloading, once. Knifework, once. Spotting monsters and intuiting their next move, once. Her physical toughness seemed to go up once, too.

"Eight levels in all across six skills - shooting and dodging levelled twice."

"-That's a lot for what it was, wow. Unless you're surprisingly low level in everything, which is a maybe, I guess. Okay. I think I'm going to keep up with you, too, that's how these stories tend to go. I wasn't paying close attention to myself, though."

"I'll do my best to make sure you keep up." Is that a flicker of a smile?

Abyssia nods and walks along silently for a while.

"Hey, we could get more powder and rounds there," she points out a gun shop eventually. "Maybe a couple of enchanted rounds just in case. And tomorrow I'm not sure if we should go in the dungeon again, or look for something else to do - there's lots of jobs for adventurers above ground too-"

She can wait for Bys. She's worth it. 

"Probably for the best," says Thorn. "I'd prefer the dungeon just to get used to it, but I'm not against other jobs."

"Dungeon is fine. ...And we should probably find inn rooms before they all fill up, come to think of it."

"We should."

She pauses.

No, this is a practical, money-saving question.

"How many?"

"Yeah, that's the question isn't it?"

What am I so afraid of? It's OBVIOUS, Hero aside. It's not just because she's important or I would think it but not feel it.

I'm just being a coward.

"Thorn...?"

She turns and holds her hand with the one not occupied by a drink, and looks into Thorn's eyes. Then she leans forward and kisses her.

Thorn can see her make the decision. The hand-holding makes it obvious. So she meets her lips halfway, and kisses her softly, not meaning to disturb the fragile courage Bys has gathered. 

"... that's still not an answer," she chides. "Though it's certainly somewhere."

"One. One room."

She grins. "It's just practical at this point, I agree. And the rest can be sorted out later."

She smiles back. "Yeah. Let's go buy some ammo. It's right there."

"Definitely."

They head in and restock. After spending most of their dungeon funds on ammo, the pair look around for a room together. After discarding a few too-upscale options and one too-disreputable one, they settle on a double room in a decent adventurer's inn for twelve copper. 

Thorn's first across the threshold; she discards her pack onto the closer of the two beds and sits down. She beckons to Bys. 

Abyssia's pack thumps to the floor just inside the door. She stretches her arms, rubbing her shoulders, before sitting by Thorn.

"...So. Hey."

"Hey." 

Thorn closes the distance first this time, shifting in for a lingering kiss. 

When she's done, she smiles, pulls back, tilts her head a little. 

"So... more than kissing. What would you want there? I think it's a little early for... everything... but I think I'd still like some things."

Like I'd like to kiss your tattoos, she thinks but doesn't say.

"I don't want to have sex yet either. You're right. Just... Too soon. I think I'd like to kiss a little more? And maybe, uh... Cuddle. After a bath. But it's not like I've done this sort of thing a lot."