《Shattered Age of Primordia: Rodentia Rising》 1. First Rule The darkness was a living entity, a palpable shroud that clung to the landscape like a mourner''s veil. Only the sound of a grumbling engine, an alluring serenade through the empty night. Thorin Blackwood, a weathered roughneck with a face beginning to show the lines of time and experience, steered, his old ford, through the black void with the confidence of routine. The headlights cast an otherworldly glow, cutting through the darkness like the cold, unforgiving kiss of a winter''s breeze. As the ford rounded a sharp bend onto a crumbling county road, the tires shrieked in protest, the sound piercing the night like a cry of anguish. The old truck had always been a bit temperamental, but Thorin had learned its idiosyncrasies, to anticipate every quirk and hiccup. This was different. The road seemed to writhe beneath the wheels like a serpent, as if reality was unraveling, revealing an abyssal chasm beneath. All four tires skidded, the truck careening out of control like a spooked horse, heading straight for the dark, yawning maw of a thicket. Thorin''s heart was, frozen in his chest, as he felt the weight of fate crashing down upon him. The world narrowed to a singular point, a pinpoint of terror, and then... It vanished. It simply... vanished. One moment Thorin was white knuckling the steering wheel, the next he was hurtling through a whirlwind of colors and lights that defied comprehension, a vortex of chaos that threatened to consume him whole. The truck''s interior was a maelstrom of sound and fury, the fords metal body screaming in protest as if it were a living, tortured creature. And then, as suddenly as it had begun, the vortex dissipated, leaving Thorin disoriented and stunned, his mind reeling like a ship lost at sea. The engine was dead, the body twisted, scarred, and smeared with the dark, mysterious residue of the unknown. As Thorin stumbled out of the driver''s seat, his legs trembling beneath him, he gazed out into the night, and his heart froze. Everything was... different. The stars shone with an otherworldly intensity, their light blazing like a thousand tiny suns. The air was charged with electricity, an almost palpable energy that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, like a thousand tiny fingers tracing the curve of his spine. A shiver coursed through Thorin''s very being as he realized that he had fallen through a doorway to the unknown. The world had shifted, tilted, and he was left standing on the precipice of a new, uncharted landscape, staring into the landscape with a mix of awe and terror. And then everything went white... ... ... Thorin blinks, disoriented. The endless white space around him is eerily silent, save for the quiet hum of a system initializing in his mind. Words appear, floating in his vision. Working... Extemporal entity detected... Scaning... System integration in process... Working... Status. Name: Thorin Blackwood Race: Human Constitution: 2 Mana: Unknown Strength: 3 Dexterity: 2 Agility: 2 Stamina: 2 Intelligence: 3 [Traits] Auto Regenerate (Passive): Slowly heals over time to preexisting condition, faster if resting may affect aging. Increased Skills Learning (Active): Gains skills and abilities faster than normal. End of Status. The white void pulses, and a voice fills his mind, seeming both distant and present at once. System: Welcome, Thorin Blackwood. You have been initialized into the Universal system. Would You like to change your name [Y / N] Note name change only available at integration stage. Thorin shakes his head, trying to process the bizarre situation. He reaches out to touch his face, expecting something familiar but only feeling cold, smooth skin. Nothing feels wrong in his body¡­ but everything feels off about the world around him. Thorin: "What the hell is going on? Where am I? Who... or what are you?" The voice is silent for a moment before the prompt renews before him. Would You like to change your name [Y / N] Thorin''s thoughts race, trying to make sense of the situation. Is this some kind of simulation? Is he dreaming? But the HUD... the system... it feels too real to just be a dream "No" he responds with resignation. He turns to look at his pickup. Thorin steps cautiously toward the wrecked truck, its form battered and immobile in the white space. The engine¡¯s hood is open, but everything inside looks... useless. Pieces of the engine are scattered, wires disconnected. Thorin (thinking): ¡°This thing¡¯s done for. No way this will ever start again. But¡­¡± He kneels beside the truck and inspects it with meticulous attention, his hands turning the broken components. After a few moments of careful examination, something strange happens. A glowing prompt appears in his vision. [Skill Gained: Appraise] You have gained the ability to evaluate and inspect objects or entities, revealing details about their condition and possible uses. Thorin blinks in surprise, unsure of how to process this. A voice in his head echoes softly: System: Skill acquired: Appraise. You can now assess the value, condition, and potential functionality of objects and entities. Use this to your advantage. Thorin stands, his hands still resting on the hood, trying to absorb the weight of what just happened. He leans in further, inspecting the engine area, hoping to find some clue about his surroundings, some key to understanding what¡¯s happened to him. That¡¯s when he spots something unusual. A faded, multilanguage sticker is stuck to the inside of the hood. Some of the words in another language he knows are etched into the surface. He pauses, his eyes narrowing. As he focuses on the sticker, something clicks inside his mind. The symbols on the sticker slowly start to make sense as his brain processes the strange text. [Skill Gained: Polyglot] You have gained the ability to read and speak any language after hearing just one sentence. This skill allows you to understand and communicate in any language you encounter. Thorin¡¯s breath catches in his chest. He can suddenly read the rest of the sticker, three languages in one place. Thorin steps back, trying to take it all in. The strange system he¡¯s been thrust into, his new abilities. Thorin (muttering to himself): "Okay¡­ now we''re talking, I can read the signs now. Let''s see where this takes me." His gaze drifts around the vast white expanse, The white expanse around Thorin begins to slowly fade, and with it, the sterile silence of the void gives way to the sounds of rustling leaves, distant bird calls, and the soft crackling of underbrush. A cool breeze brushes against his face as the world around him becomes more vivid and alive. Thorin blinks in surprise, looking around at the sudden change in scenery. He finds himself standing on the edge of a dense woodland. Trees stretch high into the sky, their branches thick with leaves, casting long shadows on the forest floor. The ground is soft with moss and fallen leaves, and the air smells fresh with the scent of pine and earth. Uncertain but cautious, Thorin looks back at the truck, now almost completely enveloped by the foliage, and spots the tire iron still wedged near the wheel well. He grabs it with firm hands, its cold, metal surface offering some semblance of comfort in the strange environment. The sense of isolation and confusion is still overwhelming, but he¡¯s not helpless. He uses his newly acquired Appraise skill on the tire iron. [Tire Iron] Item: Tire Iron Type: Blunt Weapon Durability: 100% Damage: 5-10 Blunt Damage Special: Can be used as a tool in mechanical repairs or to pry open objects, but not into other people''s affairs... Thorin nods, satisfied. The tire iron is a solid weapon, though not ideal for combat against creatures or anything too dangerous. Still, it would do for now though he wonders about that last part. He tucks it into his hand and looks around for anything else of use. His eyes fall on his work jacket, still draped over the truck''s seat. He quickly retrieves it, sliding his arms into the sleeves. The fabric feels a bit out of place in this wild forest, but it''s better than nothing. He Appraises it as well. [Work Jacket] Item: Work Jacket Type: Armor Durability: 85% Defense: +5 to Physical Defense Special: Provides protection from minor slashing and abrasions. Suitable for casual labor environments. Thorin feels a slight boost in confidence as he adjusts the jacket around his shoulders. It''s not much in the way of armor, but it''s something. With the tire iron in one hand and his jacket now covering his torso, he feels slightly more prepared for whatever this strange world might throw at him. He takes a moment to orient himself in the woodland, taking a mental note of the direction, he''s facing. The forest stretches in every direction, but there''s a faint trail cutting through the trees to the north. It''s not much, but it''s something¡ªmaybe people, maybe answers, maybe danger. Thorin (thinking): "Alright, no sense standing around. If there¡¯s anyone out here, I need to find them. And if there¡¯s not¡­ I guess I''ll just have to find a way to survive until I can figure this mess out." He sets off toward the trail, each step feeling heavier as the unknown looms larger with every step. His new skills, though helpful, are still a mystery to him, and he¡¯s uncertain whether he can trust the strange system or if it¡¯s playing a part in his disorientation. As he walks, the sounds of the forest seem to shift, the birds chirping growing quieter, the wind brushing against the trees more pronounced. It feels like he''s being watched... or perhaps just paranoid. The trail ahead bends slightly, disappearing into the shadows of the thick trees. Thorin pushes through the dense underbrush, his mind racing as he takes in the unfamiliar forest. The sounds of nature seem peaceful, but there¡¯s an unsettling feeling beneath it all like he''s not alone, like the forest is watching. After a while, he hears something rustling in the bushes ahead, too quiet to be a person. Thorin hesitates but continues forward, determined to find some sign of life or answers. Out of the foliage darts a small, furry creature, a squirrel no bigger than a rabbit, but its eyes gleam with an unnerving intelligence. It looks harmless at first¡ªalmost cute¡ªuntil it lunges at him, its sharp claws extended. Thorin stumbles back in shock as the squirrel sinks its claws into his jacket, scraping across his arm. He swipes at it with the tire iron, but it¡¯s fast darting away before his swing can land. He curses under his breath, stepping back cautiously as the creature barks and circles him, its small body bristling with aggression. He Appraises the squirrel out of instinct, trying to understand what he¡¯s dealing with. [Small Woodland squirrel] Type: Common Health: 50/50 Attack: 10-12 (Claw Attack) Defense: 8 Special: Agile, quick strike. Can summon allies. The heinous squirrel is faster than Thorin anticipated, darting in and out of his reach, swiping at him with claws that find places not covered by the fabric of his jacket. He tries to land a solid hit with the tire iron, but it¡¯s like fighting a shadow every time he thinks he has it, it evades him. After a few more exchanges, Thorin realizes he''s losing the fight. The creature''s speed is overwhelming, and his own stamina is being drained faster than he expected. He grits his teeth and decides to go on the defensive, trying to back away. But as he stumbles backward, another rustling sound erupts from the undergrowth, and Thorin freezes in horror. Out of the trees emerge more squirrels at least three more, their eyes glowing in the shadows, their bodies sleek and dangerous. Thorin''s heart races, his predicament just went from bad to worse and he can''t take them all on. Not like this. Thorin (thinking): Okay, this is bad. Way worse than I thought. I can''t keep fighting. I need to get out of here.¡± The creatures close in, their tiny, sharp claws clicking against the earth. They move with unsettling coordination, and Thorin realizes that they''ve already surrounded him. He grips the tire iron tighter, but his mind is already working out his options. There''s no way he can win this. Not without more time, more experience... maybe more weapons. Without warning, Thorin bolts, pushing his legs to their limit as he sprints through the dense woods. The creatures screech and hiss, giving chase, but Thorin knows his only chance is to outrun them. He crashes through the underbrush, ignoring the branches that whip at his face, the ground beneath him uneven and treacherous. His heart pounds in his chest as he hears the creatures still behind him. The sound of their claws skittering across the ground grows fainter as he pushes forward, adrenaline coursing through him. He doesn''t dare look back, not yet. If he stops, or slows, they will get him. After what feels like an eternity, he finally hears the creatures¡¯ sounds die away. His breath is ragged, his legs burning with exhaustion. He stumbles into a small clearing, the forest quiet now except for the pounding of his own heartbeat. Thorin falls to his knees, gasping for air. His jacket is torn in places, and he''s got a few cuts on his arms from the creature''s claws. But he''s alive. Thorin (breathing heavily): "That was too close... Too damn close." His hands shake as he holds the tire iron, realizing just how unprepared he truly is for whatever dangers lurk in this strange world. He''s learned one valuable lesson: never mess with the squirrels... Thorin sits on the edge of a clearing, his back against a sturdy tree, taking slow, measured breaths to calm his racing heart. His jacket is still torn in places, but he¡¯s healing, slowly regaining his strength as the effects of his Auto Regenerate trait kick in. His wounds, while not serious, sting with every movement, but they¡¯re already starting to fade, leaving only the faintest of scars. Looking up at the sky, the sun is starting its descent, but it''s hard to judge how much time he has before it¡¯s fully dark. The eerie silence of the forest has returned, and the distant sound of rustling leaves is the only sign of life¡ªbesides him. Thorin (thinking): "Night''s coming fast. And I¡¯ve got no idea what else roams these woods... probably worse than those squirrels. A fire¡¯s probably my best bet for keeping something from creeping up on me." With a grimace, he stands and scans the area, searching for dry wood and kindling. The forest floor is littered with fallen branches, some too large to use, others broken and dry enough to catch flame. He picks up a few, testing their weight and dryness with his hands, and then begins collecting them in a small pile. The forest¡¯s odd quietness is both peaceful and ominous, as though everything around him is waiting. Thorin¡¯s mind is racing. He¡¯s learned a few things already¡ªlike how quickly the world can turn dangerous, and how essential it is to be prepared. With his new skills, the chances are better, but he knows he needs more if he¡¯s going to survive in this strange realm. He works efficiently, piling up the wood in a circle to keep it contained and ready for a fire. Once that¡¯s done, he starts to gather small twigs and dry leaves, stacking them in the center of the pile. Then, he pauses, looking around for something to start the fire with¡ªrocks, flint, anything that could help spark a flame. He appraises a few nearby rocks, hoping to find some kind of natural flint, but it¡¯s no use. He doesn¡¯t have the right tools for a proper spark. [Appraise: Rock] Item: Rock Type: Natural Material Durability: 100% Special: Can be used as a blunt weapon or to aid in crafting tools. The rock is useful for defensive purposes, but not for starting a fire. Thorin grits his teeth, frustrated, but then he notices something on the ground¡ªa small, dry stick, likely from a nearby tree. He picks it up and, on a whim, Appraises it. [Appraise: Stick] Item: Stick Type: Natural Material Durability: 100% Special: Can be used to create a fire through friction or as a tool. There¡¯s a flicker of hope as Thorin realizes that, with the right technique, he can use the stick to start a fire. A moment of pride passes through him; the skills in this system might not be perfect, but they are practical. He kneels down next to the fire pit he¡¯s created and begins rubbing the stick against a small pile of dry leaves, pressing it quickly back and forth to create friction. Sweat beads on his forehead as the effort strains his muscles, but soon enough, it begins to smoke, the first sign of success. He keeps going, determined not to fail. Soon a small flame catches on the dry leaves, and soon the fire grows, crackling and snapping as it consumes the kindling. Thorin breathes a sigh of relief, watching the flames flicker in the growing darkness. The warmth feels good, almost like a barrier between him and the unknown. Thorin (thinking): "Okay, fire¡¯s set. Now... I just need to keep it going until morning." He sits back on a nearby log, the tire iron still in his hand, his senses alert. The fire flickers and dances, casting long shadows in the surrounding trees. Somewhere in the distance, he hears a howl¡ªa deep, eerie sound that sends a chill down his spine. Thorin (thinking): "Yeah¡­ this fire is just in time." As the night deepens, Thorin watches the flames, listening to the strange noises of the forest around him. His mind races with questions. Where is he? What kind of place is this? And¡ªmore urgently¡ªwhat else might be out there in the darkness? Thorin¡¯s eyes flicker toward the fire as the flames dance in the growing darkness. The warmth is comforting, but he knows it¡¯s also his best defense against whatever lurks in the shadows of the forest. His muscles ache from the strain of his earlier sprint, but he forces himself to stand, grabbing more dry wood and feeding it into the fire. The flames crackle and pop as they greedily consume the new fuel. Each time he adds more wood, the fire grows, casting long shadows around him. The forest seems to retreat in response, and the wind whispers through the trees. Thorin can¡¯t shake the feeling that he¡¯s being watched, and that the creatures in this world are more dangerous¡ªthan he can anticipate. The howl he heard earlier echoes again, closer this time, a deep, rumbling sound that makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up. His hand grips the tire iron tighter. Thorin (thinking): ¡°Gotta keep the fire burning. Don¡¯t let it go out. No telling what¡¯s out there.¡± He¡¯s learned one painful lesson today: don¡¯t underestimate the dangers, no matter how small or innocent they appear. The squirrels were bad enough, but they were just a small taste of what¡¯s in this forest. Thorin doesn¡¯t know if the creatures he faces are natural, or something else but he can¡¯t rest, not yet. He stands by the fire, adding more wood as the night drags on. The fire¡¯s warmth is comforting, but it also serves as a reminder of how fragile his survival is. The constant crackling of the fire is only broken by the occasional rustle of leaves or distant animal cry. Every sound sets his nerves on edge, but he stays vigilant, only allowing himself the briefest moments to close his eyes and rest, knowing full well he can¡¯t afford to fall asleep. Hours stretch on, he can¡¯t tell how much time has passed, but it feels like an eternity. The forests darkened shape constantly changing in the shadows of the firelight. Thorin continues to feed the fire, fatigue is starting to take its toll, but he knows he can¡¯t let it go out. At one point, he hears something moving nearby. It¡¯s not the usual sounds of the forest¡ªthis is heavier, more deliberate. Thorin¡¯s grip tightens on the tire iron, and he prepares himself for whatever¡¯s about to emerge from the darkness. His heart races in his chest, and he stands perfectly still, eyes fixed on the space just beyond the reach of the fire¡¯s glow. Then, just as suddenly as it began, the sound stops. Thorin¡¯s breath catches in his throat, and he scans the area. Nothing. No movement. Only the crackling of the fire and the gentle wind. Thorin (thinking): ¡°Probably just the wind... or something small. Doesn¡¯t matter. I¡¯ve got to keep my guard up.¡± The fire is his lifeline. It¡¯s the only thing between him and the darkness. He¡¯s got his tire iron; it¡¯s not the best weapon. Maybe he can do more. With a grunt, Thorin looks around the clearing. The forest offers little in the way of tools, but the abundance of branches catches his attention. He scans the ground for a suitable piece¡ªsomething long, sturdy, and thick enough to be useful. After a few moments, he finds it: a slightly straight branch, thick enough for his purpose. He picks it up and examines it, satisfied, he decides to turn it into a weapon. He kneels down by the fire, pulling a rough stone from the ground and using the jagged edges to scrape and sharpen the tip of the branch. The process is slow, his hands sore from the abuse, but after a few minutes, he¡¯s managed to carve a crude point. Next, he holds the sharpened tip to the fire, the warmth licking the wood as he waits for it to harden. The smell of burning wood fills the air, and Thorin keeps his eyes on the fire, making sure he doesn¡¯t overdo it and weaken the shaft. [Skill Acquired: Crafting: Woodworking] Description: You have learned the basics of crafting with wood. You can now create basic wooden tools and simple items with greater efficiency and durability. Special: Reduces the time and materials needed to craft wooden tools and items by 5%. [Appraise: Crude Spear] Item: Crude Spear Type: Weapon Durability: 65% Damage: 4-8 Piercing Damage Special: Poor quality, but functional. Sharpness is questionable. Great for an amateur, less effective against more resilient foes. Thorin can''t help but let out a dry laugh at the Appraise description. His first real weapon, and it¡¯s not exactly going to win any awards for craftsmanship. Still, it¡¯s something. Better than nothing. Thorin (chuckling to himself): ¡°Yeah, well, I don¡¯t need it to be perfect... I just need it to keep me alive.¡± He tests the spear, feeling the weight of it in his hands. The tip is far from perfect, but it¡¯s sharp enough to do some damage. The shaft, though rough and unpolished, feels sturdy enough for a quick thrust or jab if necessary. With the spear now in his hands, Thorin feels a small sense of confidence. It¡¯s barely passable, but it¡¯s better than the tire iron for keeping something at a distance. Thorin (thinking): ¡°Alright, this will have to do. Now, I just need to stay alert and keep that fire burning. The night crawls on, and Thorin¡¯s eyelids grow heavier with each passing hour. His muscles ache from the constant vigilance, and his mind flits between exhaustion and adrenaline. The fire, now reduced to a glowing pile of embers, requires constant attention¡ªadding more wood, fanning the flames to keep them from dying down. Thorin awoke to the crackling remnants of his fire in the early morning hours, his wounds from the squirrel fight and the jagged abrasions from the branches are already gone. As dawn finally breaks over the horizon, the first light of day paints the sky in soft hues of pink and orange. The forest seems to wake along with it¡ªbirds chirping, leaves rustling in the gentle morning breeze. [Skill Acquired: Vigilance] Description: Your awareness of your surroundings has improved. You are more attuned to signs of danger or change around you, allowing you to spot things others might miss. Special: +5% chance to detect hidden threats or important details in the environment. With the first rays of the sun casting light over the clearing, Thorin stretches and checks his surroundings. The fire has burned down, leaving just a small pile of glowing embers, but it did its job¡ªhe survived the night. He grips his spear tightly and starts making his way toward the edge of the clearing, leaving the remnants of his fire behind. His new Vigilance skill makes him more aware of the small details, the rustle of leaves or the pattern of animal tracks on the ground. He kneels, examining the earth closely, looking for any sign of life. He finds several tracks¡ªsmall, animal-sized prints that appear to have been left in the mud near the edge of the clearing. They seem to be heading in the direction of a small, rocky outcrop deeper into the woods. Thorin doesn¡¯t hesitate¡ªthis could be his chance to find water, or even an animal to hunt. He follows the trail, moving cautiously and keeping his eyes peeled for anything that could be a threat. [Skill Acquired: Tracking] This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.Description: Small chance to identify tracks and direction traveled. Thorin¡¯s heart picks up speed as he follows the tracks. The prints lead him past dense underbrush and through a series of low shrubs. The forest is alive with morning sounds¡ªchirping birds, rustling branches, the distant trickle of a stream, his new Vigilance skill making him even more aware of his surroundings. As the trail winds through the forest, Thorin¡¯s thinks of his need for water. His throat is dry, and he knows he can¡¯t last long without drinking. The tracks seem to be leading him toward a small clearing, and as he approaches, he hears the faint sound of water trickling nearby. Following the sound he finds a small stream, its gentle current running clear between the rocks. His thirst made itself known, and Thorin wasted no time kneeling beside the stream. He took a rough stick, digging into the soil next to the water''s edge. He had heard somewhere that you could clean water by letting it soak through the earth first. He was hoping it was true. He waited, keeping his eyes on the ground as the water slowly filtered through. With the immediate concern progressing, Thorin turned his focus to food. The fish in the stream were his next target. He hefted his crude spear and crouched down by the water''s edge, keeping still, his eyes scanning for movement. Minutes passed, and then there it was. A fish, darting through the water. Thorin''s spear shot forward, but the fish darted out of reach, evading the tip by a hair. Cursing under his breath, he sighed and stood up. Walking over to the tree line he had gathered some more dry wood. Repeating lastnights process he started a new fire. Once the fire was blazing again, Thorin returned to his spot by the stream. He kept his spear ready, watching intently for another fish. As time passed, he spotted one. This time, his aim was true. The fish skewered on the tip of his makeshift spear, and Thorin pulled it out of the water, grinning to himself. Finally success. At this point the clear water started to collect in the hole he''d dug, and after a cautious sip, he felt the relief of quenching his thirst. Not bad for a first step in survival. The fire crackled as he began to clean the fish, focusing on the task at hand. Just as he was about to start cooking, there was a rustle in the bushes. Thorin''s hand instinctively went for his spear, but to his surprise, a young wyrm with two small wings a dragons head and no legs slipped out of the underbrush, its eyes glinting with mischief. The wyrm was small, its scales shimmering in the sunlight as it cocked its head at Thorin with an air of amusement. Thorin tensed, but the creature didn''t seem concerned. Instead, it flashed a toothy grin, its voice coming out in a casual drawl. "Nice fish," the wyrm said, eyeing the meal with a critical gaze. "Or is that the best you can do? Looks like you missed your chance at something bigger. Then again, given the state of that spear, maybe I shouldn''t be surprised." Thorin narrowed his eyes, tightening his grip on the spear. "What are you? Some kind of lizard? Or just here to make fun of me?" The wyrm chuckled, unfazed by Thorin''s sharp tone. "Been watching you for a while. You''re doing just enough not to die. Cute. Keep it up, and you''ll make it another day. Or not. It''s amusing either way." Thorin stood still, trying to assess whether this creature was dangerous or just another annoyance. The wyrm, clearly not taking the situation seriously, stepped closer to the fire and flicked its tail nonchalantly. "Oh, don''t worry. I''m not here to help," it added, eyes glinting with amusement. "I just thought I''d see how long you last. Maybe you''ll make it out of this one alive. Or not. It''s funny either way." Frustration bubbled inside Thorin. He wasn''t sure whether to be irritated or intrigued by this creature. Finally, he couldn¡¯t hold it in anymore. "Are you going to do anything useful?" Thorin asked, his voice laced with frustration. "Or are you just going to stand there and watch me struggle?" The wyrm snickered. "Help? Ha! No. But I''ll stick around for the entertainment. It''s not every day I get to see a human try to survive in this dump after pissing off the squirrels so much. Didn''t anyone tell you that''s second only to not getting in a land war in Asia and betting against a Sicilian when death is on the line?" Thorin blinked, trying to make sense of the wyrm''s bizarre humor. "What''s that supposed to mean?" The wyrm tilted its head and shrugged. "Squirrels. They''re the worst. So, what''s next, human? Gonna go after something bigger? Or are you gonna sit there and sulk?" Thorin was growing more annoyed, but he couldn''t ignore the wyrms words. "Okay, so what do you suggest I do? Just sit here with my fish and wait to die?" The wyrm laughed again, its eyes glinting mischievously. Vorn: "You¡¯re not in your world anymore, human. Different world, different rules. Try not to die." Thorin: "And you¡¯re here to help? Out of the kindness of your lizard heart?" Vorn: "Help? Ha! No. But watching you struggle is entertaining, and I''m not a lizard." Thorin: "What do I do, then?" Vorn: "Find a village. Avoid squirrels. Level up before something eats you, should be fun." Thorin blinked, "Level up? How am I supposed to do that?" The wyrm gave a lazy shrug. "Find a dungeon. One without squirrels. Maybe a village for supplies and gear. And don''t forget level up or get eaten." Thorin''s mind raced as he tried to process the wyrm''s cryptic advice. It didn''t help that the wyrm seemed to be enjoying every minute of his confusion. "Okay," Thorin said, rubbing his temples, "so... what else? Any more wisdom to drop on me?" The wyrm, clearly in the mood to educate, began listing off things Thorin hadn''t expected to hear. "The humans known as Norse and the Celts are up north, by the way. There are scattered towns with humans, elves, and dwarves. Some fiefdoms here and there. Nothing too impressive, though. You''ll have to figure that out." Thorin blinked. "Wait did you say the Celts? And Norse?" The wyrm grinned. "Yep. The Norse. You know, those big Viking types who like to swing axes and scream at the sky. And the Celts. They''ve got their own thing going on. Just don''t go bothering them. You''ll need more than just a fish for that." Thorin felt a strange mix of awe and confusion. "So... where am I really? What''s this place?" The wyrm flashed a sharp grin. "Not your problem right now. Right now, you need to survive. You''ll figure it out." "You might want to learn some languages too, human. It''s not all common speech here." The wyrm''s eyes gleamed as it prepared to show off. "Alright, wise-ass," Thorin said, crossing his arms. "Prove it. Speak to me in all these languages you''re bragging about." The wyrm smirked and began speaking, switching languages effortlessly. **In Norse:** "You wouldn¡¯t even survive a squirrel army in that outfit." **In Elvish:** "Nice try, but I¡¯ve seen rocks with more survival instincts." **In Draconic:** "Seriously? This is the best you can do?" **In Celestial:** "You''re hopeless. Hope you¡¯re not relying on your brain." **In Dwarvish:** "Did you think you''d just stumble through this? " **In Gaelic:** "Might as well give up. You don''t even know what you¡¯re dealing with." A notification blinked across Thorin''s HUD, catching his attention. **[Status Update: You are now fluent in the following languages:]** *¡°Norse, Elvish, Draconic, Celestial, Dwarvish, and Gaelic.¡±* Thorin cracked a smirk of his own. Maybe this wyrm wasn''t entirely useless after all. "Alright, that''s helpful," he muttered. "Now, how do I get some coin for supplies?" The wyrm''s grin widened. "Quests, trade, or stealing. Your call. Maybe barter too. You''ll figure it out. Everyone does." ----------------------------------- Thorin sat by the fire, cleaning another fish he had caught, the warmth of the flames mingling with the satisfaction of finally having a decent meal. He glanced over at the wyrm, who seemed content just watching him, occasionally flicking its tail in the air with a lazy rhythm. The wyrm, didn¡¯t seem to have any intention of leaving him alone. After eating and drinking their fill, Thorin leaned back and sighed. His stomach finally felt full, and for the first time since he had woken up in this strange world, he felt like he might just survive another day. ¡°So, where¡¯s the nearest tavern?¡± Thorin asked, wiping his hands on his pants as he glanced at Vorn. "I¡¯m guessing there¡¯s gotta be one if I¡¯m supposed to do quests for hire, right?" Vorn snorted, a small puff of smoke escaping from his nostrils. ¡°Tavern? You¡¯re looking for the most boring part of this world. Sure, there are a few¡ªmostly in the villages. You¡¯ll find one to the east, near the road. Good place for cheap jobs. But don¡¯t get too cozy. These places are filled with drunks and drifters who think they''re better than they actually are." Thorin considered this, then took a deep breath. ¡°Sounds like a good start. Better than wandering around here without a clue." Vorn flicked his tail, clearly amused by Thorin¡¯s bluntness. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll fit right in. You¡¯re no hero material, but you¡¯re not half-bad at getting by. You could probably almost make a living slaying rats or doing fetches.¡± Thorin rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then glanced at the wyrm. ¡°So, what¡¯s your name, anyway? I guess I should know who I¡¯m talking to after all this.¡± Vorn tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, ¡°Vorn,¡± he said after a beat, his voice almost nonchalant. ¡°Vorn the young wingless wyrm, at your service. Well, not at your service, exactly, but I¡¯m here, aren¡¯t I? Not that you have a choice.¡± Thorin stared at him, chewing on that name. ¡°Vorn, huh?¡± He let the name roll around in his mind for a moment before asking the next question. ¡°How old are you? You don¡¯t exactly look... well, old.¡± Vorn¡¯s eyes flashed, and for the first time, Thorin noticed a slight edge to his tone. ¡°Age is a relative concept, human. I¡¯m... old enough to know better than to trust you and young enough to find entertainment in your misery. Does that answer your question?¡± Thorin frowned, sensing that Vorn wasn¡¯t eager to dive into his backstory. He knew when to push and when to leave well enough alone. ¡°Fine,¡± he muttered. Vorn, clearly growing bored of the conversation, suddenly hopped up and made a show of stretching his wings¡ªonly to remember there too small. Instead, he wriggled his tail dramatically, like a cat flicking its tail back and forth. ¡°So,¡± Vorn said, tail twitching in a way that made Thorin feel slightly uncomfortable, ¡°what do you say about letting me ride on your shoulder? You know, to help you with... whatever it is you¡¯re doing.¡± Thorin blinked, surprised by the request. ¡°Ride on my shoulder?¡± he repeated. ¡°Why would you want that?¡± Vorn¡¯s grin was predatory, though his eyes sparkled with amusement. ¡°Well, for one, you¡¯re bigger, and I¡¯m lazy. But also... I¡¯ve got something that might interest you. A little favor, in exchange.¡± Thorin raised an eyebrow. ¡°And what¡¯s that?¡± Vorn¡¯s grin widened. ¡°A dragon¡¯s hoard. Dimensional storage spell. All the things you¡¯ll need to survive in this world¡ªwithout worrying about carrying everything around.¡± He paused, clearly savoring the effect of his words. ¡°I could even teach you how to use it. Pretty nice, huh?¡± Thorin scowled. "A dragon¡¯s hoard? Yeah, right." Vorn flicked his tail. "Not mine, but close. You in? I¡¯ll even share some of the more... less valuable things I¡¯ve ¡®collected¡¯ over the years.¡± He flicked his tail again, the motion almost teasing. ¡°You¡¯ll want to carry all the tools, weapons, and junk you find on your way. And you¡¯ll want me close by to explain everything. We both get what we want.¡± Thorin raised a brow. "You ride my shoulder, and I get storage?" Vorn grinned. "Yep. Not infinite, but plenty. Finally, Thorin sighed and relented. ¡°Fine, but you better keep your end of the deal, or I¡¯ll toss you off it.¡± Vorn¡¯s eyes gleamed in approval, and he practically leapt onto Thorin¡¯s shoulder, his tail curling around his neck like a scarf. ¡°Smart decision, human. I¡¯ll keep my end of the bargain. You just keep moving forward, and I¡¯ll make sure you¡¯ve got what you need.¡± Vorn settled onto his shoulder. ¡°Alright,¡± Thorin said, standing up and adjusting the makeshift spear in his hand. ¡°Let¡¯s get to that village, see if I can find a tavern and figure out what comes next.¡± Vorn smirked from his perch. ¡°Keep your head down, try not to annoy anyone, and you¡¯ll be fine... maybe.¡± As Thorin began to make his way through the forest, Vorn shifted on his shoulder, his tail flicking idly. Thorin glanced up at him, trying to get used to the feeling of the wyrm perched there like some strange, miniature dragon. ¡°So,¡± Thorin said, trying to sound casual, ¡°which direction to the road to the tavern?¡± Vorn''s head cocked slightly, and for a moment, he was silent, as if pondering the question. ¡°Which direction? Honestly, if you knew how to read a map, I¡¯d be a bit impressed. But since I¡¯m dealing with you... let me think.¡± Vorn paused for a dramatic moment, then flicked his tail toward the right. ¡°That way. Follow the trees. Don¡¯t get distracted by any more squirrels.¡± Thorin rolled his eyes. ¡°Last time I checked, they didnt play well with others.¡± But sure, I¡¯ll follow your lead. Just don¡¯t expect me to carry you when you get bored and decide to fly away.¡± Vorn gave a low chuckle. ¡°Fly? Me? Oh, please. Besides, you¡¯d be lost without me. No idea where you¡¯re going, who¡¯s going to try to rob you.¡± Thorin shot a glance up at him. ¡°Alright, smartass. I get it. You¡¯re the expert here. So, no tavern for a while, huh? Anything else useful around?¡± Vorn¡¯s eyes twinkled with mischief. ¡°Oh, there¡¯s plenty of things around here, human. Just watch for the bandits, wolves, and the occasional giant spider. You did want to level up, right?¡± Thorin grimaced. ¡°Bandits, wolves, giant spiders... yeah, that¡¯s exactly what I was hoping for this morning.¡± Vorn puffed out a tiny puff of smoke, clearly enjoying the sarcasm. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll find the spiders to be a real ¡®character-building¡¯ experience. I¡¯ll be there, cheering you on, from your shoulder, or over there.¡± Thorin sighed, shaking his head, ¡°You¡¯ll figure it out, human. For now, follow that road ahead. It¡¯s not far. If you¡¯re lucky, you¡¯ll make it to the tavern before the sun sets. If not... well, let¡¯s hope you like fighting in the dark.¡± Vorn¡¯s voice had a teasing edge. Thorin shot a look at the wyrm. ¡°I¡¯ll take my chances. Better to fight in the dark than listen to you talk.¡± Vorn laughed. ¡°Good one. You¡¯re learning [Skill Acquired: Walking] Description: It''s walking... No more baby steps. Thorin sighs. Even his skills are mocking him. Thorin walked, lost in thought. Why is Vorn really here? The little creature was helpful¡ªsometimes¡ªbut something felt off. Ahead, the road was blocked by thick webbing. A massive spider crouched in the center, its legs twitching, beady eyes gleaming. Vorn nudged him. ¡°You wanna tangle with that up close? Thought not. Use rocks.¡± Thorin bent down, grabbing a stone. He took aim¡ªwhiff. The rock sailed wide. He threw another¡ªtoo low, bouncing harmlessly off the dirt. The spider reacted, its front legs shifting. Then, without warning, it lunged. Thorin stumbled back just in time to avoid a sweeping leg. Fwip! A glob of webbing shot toward him¡ªhe twisted aside. Evade skill acquired. He barely had time to process that before the spider lunged again. ¡°Try hitting it this time,¡± Vorn said dryly. Gritting his teeth, Thorin hurled another rock. It smacked into a leg, but the spider barely flinched. Another throw¡ªmiss. Another¡ªthud. Throwing skill acquired. Encouraged, he kept at it. Most of his shots missed. His arm ached. The spider, growing agitated, lashed out. Thorin jumped back¡ªFwip! Another web shot. He twisted away just in time. DING! Evade skill increased .10. Sweat dripped down his temple. His breathing was ragged. Every dodge was getting slower, every throw more desperate. One lucky rock cracked into the spider¡¯s head. It reeled for a moment. DING! Throwing skill increased .10. Thorin saw an opening¡ªhe rushed forward, aiming a rock at its eyes. A leg swept toward him¡ªtoo fast. He ducked but felt it graze his shoulder, sending him sprawling. ¡°Get up, get up,¡± Vorn urged. Thorin rolled to his feet just as another web shot streaked toward him. He barely twisted aside. DING! Evade skill increased .10. This wasn¡¯t working. He had to end it now. Gritting his teeth, he steadied himself, took careful aim¡ªwaited for the spider to move just right¡ªthen hurled his final rock with all his strength. CRACK. The rock struck home. The spider twitched, then collapsed in a heap. DING! Throwing skill increased .10. Thorin dropped to his knees, gasping. His whole body ached. Vorn grinned. ¡°That looked exhausting.¡± Thorin shot him a glare. ¡°Next time, you throw the rocks.¡± Thorin stood over the spider¡¯s corpse, panting, arms aching, legs burning from dodging. His breath was ragged, but the battle was finally over. +100 EXP He dismissed the notification with a sigh. That fight had taken everything out of him. Vorn tapped him on the back. "Not bad. Took you long enough, though." Thorin ignored him, eyeing the massive corpse. "There¡¯s gotta be something useful here, right?" Vorn nodded. "Venom. Silk. Maybe some chitin, if you can break it off." "Great. Only one problem." Thorin spread his hands. "No knife." Vorn smirked. "Then figure something out." Thorin scowled and crouched by the spider¡¯s fangs. If there was venom, it¡¯d be here. He picked up a rock and slammed it down, but the thick exoskeleton barely cracked. Gritting his teeth, he tried again, shifting his angle, using heavier blows. Finally, after way too much effort, one of the fangs split open, and dark venom dribbled out. You have acquired [Harvesting (Novice)] Thorin cupped his hands under the liquid¡ªonly for it to slip through his fingers, wasted. "Damn it." Vorn chuckled. "Oh, flawless technique." Thorin shot him a glare, then exhaled. "Can you store liquids?" Vorn nodded. "Of course." He nodded, and a small, glowing Dimensional Storage sigil hovered in the air. "Just put it in here." Thorin quickly grabbed a piece of bark from the roadside, using it to scrape up what little venom he could salvage. Carefully, he held it near the glowing sigil, and the black liquid vanished as if swallowed by nothingness. You have stored [Spider Venom (Impure)] DING! Harvesting skill increased .10 "Neat trick," Thorin muttered. "Handy, isn¡¯t it?" Vorn smirked. "What¡¯s next?" Thorin turned to the web stretching across the road. "Silk, I guess." He reached out to pull at a strand¡ªonly to have it instantly glue itself to his fingers. "Oh, come on." He yanked his hand free, nearly stumbling backward. Vorn outright laughed. "Amazing technique, truly." "Shut up," Thorin grumbled. This time, he grabbed a smooth rock and pressed it into the web, trying to roll it up like thread. The silk stretched and clung stubbornly, but after several minutes of tedious work, he managed to scrape together a small, tangled bundle. You have acquired [Spider Silk (Low-Quality)] DING! Harvesting skill increased .10 Thorin held up the messy strands. "Can you store this too?" Vorn nodded again, opening the Dimensional Storage portal. Thorin dropped the silk in, watching it disappear. You have stored [Spider Silk (Low-Quality)] "Easy," Vorn said smugly. Thorin rolled his shoulders, exhausted. "I swear, that was harder than the fight." Vorn grinned. "Welcome to survival." With nothing left to harvest, Thorin turned back toward the road. "Let¡¯s go." Vorn fell into step beside him. "Think you¡¯re getting the hang of it?" Thorin sighed. "I¡¯d rather fight another spider than do that again." Vorn chuckled. "Oh, don¡¯t worry. You probably will." ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The road stretched before them, winding through dense underbrush and ancient trees. Thorin adjusted his grip on his tire iron, his mind turning over the many questions that had been burning within him since his arrival. "So, is there a way back?" he asked, glancing at Vorn, who moved beside him with silent ease. Vorn''s gaze lingered on the distant horizon before he finally responded. "Paths travel in one direction more often than they do in two. Some roads end where they began, but that is a rare thing indeed." Thorin frowned. "So... no?" "A circle is a path, yet not all paths are circles." Thorin sighed and kicked a loose stone in frustration. His thoughts were interrupted by a rustling in the underbrush. A large hare, nearly the size of a small dog, burst onto the road, its fangs bared. Instinct took over. He snatched up a rock and hurled it. The hare twisted, dodging the projectile, then lunged. Thorin barely managed to bring up his tire iron in time. The fight dragged on as the hare danced around his swings, forcing him to chase it. His arm ached from throwing stones, most of them missing. But finally, one struck true, knocking the beast off balance. He closed the distance and finished it with a heavy swing of his weapon. A soft ding echoed in his mind. Throwing skill increased .10 100 XP gained Panting, he wiped sweat from his brow. "That was tougher than I expected." "Expectations weigh down the untested," Vorn mused. "Much like heavy boots in deep sand." Thorin rolled his eyes. "Alright, next question. The elves¡ªwhere do they come from?" Vorn¡¯s gaze drifted. "From three sources does their blood flow. Avian¡ªof the ancient, winged kin, now lost to time. Humans, whose footsteps echo across many worlds. And nymphs, the spirit-kin of earth and air. From these three, elves were woven." "Bird-people? Like, intelligent dinosaurs?" "Once, yes. But fire and time take all things." Thorin mulled over that information as they pressed forward. Another movement caught his eye¡ªa massive crab, its shell gleaming like dull metal. This one was even larger than the hare. He hurled a stone, but it bounced harmlessly off the thick armor. The crab lunged, claws snapping. Thorin dodged back, gripping his tire iron tighter. The thing was slow, but strong. His blows rang off its shell, jarring his arms. He changed tactics, aiming for the joints. His strikes became more precise, and after several heavy swings, he cracked through. The crab spasmed before collapsing. Strength increased .10 100 XP gained Flexing his aching fingers, he looked at Vorn. "That was rough." "Adversity polishes the dull into something sharp." "Yeah, yeah." Thorin exhaled and continued forward. "So, where do the other races come from?" "Like you, they are wanderers, pulled from lands beyond. The threads of many worlds weave this tapestry. Humans walk many roads before they arrive here. Others come fewer and far between, but all have crossed unseen borders." Another hare lunged from the undergrowth. Thorin barely had time to react before he dodged, barely avoiding its bite. He flung another rock, striking its hindquarters, then finished it off with a precise strike of his tire iron. 100 XP gained Another rustling¡ªtwo more hares. Thorin gritted his teeth and fell into the fight, dodging, striking, and learning their patterns. After a grueling few minutes, both lay still. Agility increased .10 100 XP gained 100 XP gained Thorin straightened, catching his breath. His legs felt stronger, faster. He was adapting. Vorn gestured toward the fallen creatures. "Would you have me store them?" "Yeah. No way I can carry all this. Vorn gazed at the corpses, and a faint shimmer enveloped them before they vanished. They continued down the road, Thorin still breathing hard. Another crab scuttled into their path. This time, Thorin was ready. He attacked with more confidence, aiming for the weak points. When he landed a perfect strike on the second joint of its claw, the shell cracked, and the beast shuddered. Armor Piercing acquired 100 XP gained Thorin grinned. "Finally getting the hang of this." They had barely walked another five minutes when another hare sprang at him. By now, Thorin was moving faster, dodging with ease. He sidestepped, struck, and put it down in a few quick blows. Mobility Speed skill acquired 100 XP gained He shook out his limbs. His movements felt sharper, more controlled. He was improving. Thorin¡¯s voice broke the silence. "And dragons?" Vorn glanced at him. "What about them?" Thorin asked, "Are they from another realm too?" "This world birthed them. They are of its bones, its breath, its fire." Vorn replies "Not from other worlds like humans?" "No. They are native." Before Thorin could respond, a harsh, guttural snarl made him spin around. Two hunched figures stepped from the shadows¡ªgoblins. They were small, but their yellow eyes gleamed with malice. One wielded a crude spear, the other a jagged knife. Thorin barely had time to react before the spear-wielding goblin lunged. He twisted out of the way, narrowly avoiding a thrust to his gut. The second goblin darted in from the side, slashing. Thorin staggered back, raising his tire iron just in time to deflect the blow. It was the hardest fight yet. He hurled stones at them, but they dodged. Forced into melee, he fought defensively, barely keeping up. Every strike was met with a counter. Every mistake cost him ground. Then, pure luck intervened. The spear-wielding goblin lunged again, but its foot caught on a root. It stumbled forward¡ªdirectly onto its companion¡¯s knife. The second goblin shrieked, collapsing. Thorin seized the moment, driving his tire iron into the last goblin¡¯s skull. Throwing skill increased .10 Evade skill increased .10 100 XP gained 100 XP gained Chest heaving, he bent over the bodies, prying the spear from the fallen goblin¡¯s grip. He also retrieved the jagged knife. "Not bad for my second real fight," he muttered. "Barely made it, though." "Survival is its own reward," Vorn said. "And now, these tools will serve you better than their last owners." Thorin inspected the knife. "Actually¡­ might as well make use of this." He knelt and hacked off both goblins'' ears, stuffing them into a small pouch in case there was a bounty. Then he looted what little they carried¡ªsmall leather pouches, cloth scraps, and any usable leather from their makeshift armor. "Alright," he finally said. "Let¡¯s keep moving. I think I¡¯m starting to get the hang of this." Vorn nodded in silent agreement, and they continued down the road. Thorin and Vorn round a bend in the road, revealing a small hamlet atop a raised earth mound. A circular wooden palisade, made of rough-hewn pikes, encloses the settlement. The sturdy barrier suggests defense against wandering beasts or worse. At the heart of the hamlet stands a larger building, likely a tavern¡ªthe natural hub of trade, news, and weary travelers. Surrounding it in a loose ring are five smaller buildings, probably homes, workshops, or merchant stalls. Smoke rises lazily from chimneys, and the scent of woodsmoke and cooking food drifts on the breeze. The muted sounds of daily life¡ªhammers striking iron, voices haggling, and the occasional bark of a dog¡ªcarry across the air. Vorn lingers at the edge of the path, his gaze fixed on the road behind them. His expression is unreadable, but something in the way he stares suggests deep contemplation. "I hope she''s right about this one... for both our sakes." The thought coils in his mind like a serpent, lingering with an unease he dares not voice. Thorin, still focused on the weight of the goblin spear in his hand and the ache in his limbs from the fights, pays no mind to Vorn¡¯s lingering gaze. His mind is occupied with more immediate concerns¡ªfinding a place to rest, resupply, and perhaps even get some information about this world beyond Vorn¡¯s cryptic responses. The hamlet sits atop a raised earth mound, its wooden palisade weathered but sturdy. A simple gate stands open, guarded by two men clad in worn leather armor, their expressions wary but not immediately hostile. Status. Name: Thorin Blackwood Race: Human Thorin is currently at Level 4, with 200 XP needed to reach Level 5 Constitution: 6 Health 300 Intelligence: 3 Mana: Unknown Strength: 3.10 Dexterity: 2 Agility: 2.10 Stamina: 2 Skills: Mobility Speed Armor Piercing Evade 0.10 Throwing 0.30 Chapter 2: Tavern. Chapter 2 Tavern. Thorin and Vorn approached the hamlet with cautious steps. As they neared the wooden palisade, Vorn quickly nestled himself beneath Thorin¡¯s work jacket, his small, scaled form hidden away. The hamlet itself was curious, a mixture of ancient Celtic motifs and sturdy, angular forms of design. Intricate knotwork carved into wooden beams and stone foundations caught Thorin¡¯s eye. They made their way toward the central building¡ªa large, inviting tavern set within the circular palisade. The door creaked open under Thorin¡¯s careful push, and he stepped inside. Inside, the tavern exuded warmth and character. Rough-hewn wooden tables and benches, illuminated by the soft glow of a central hearth, filled the common room. Tapestries bearing ancient symbols hung on the walls, and the low murmur of conversation mingled with the crackle of burning logs. Thorin strode confidently to the bar, where a stout, bearded man dried a set of tankards behind the counter. The tavernkeeper looked up as Thorin approached, eyes narrowing in quiet appraisal before softening with a welcoming smile. ¡°Name¡¯s Thorin Blackwood,¡± Thorin announced, his voice steady despite the events of his journey. The tavernkeeper returned the greeting. ¡°I¡¯m Eamon,¡± he said in a deep, friendly tone. ¡°Welcome to our humble hall, Thorin. What brings you to our doors? Looking for shelter, or perhaps some work?¡± ¡°Both, I suppose,¡± Thorin replied. ¡°I¡¯ve heard there are quests, even if small¡ªhunting pests, odd errands¡ªand I could use a bit of coin along the way.¡± Eamon nodded thoughtfully. ¡°Aye, we¡¯ve got a few small jobs posted on our board¡ªrat hunts within the hamlet and a few tasks out beyond the walls. Not much, but it¡¯ll keep you fed, and your coin purse lined. Take a seat, and I¡¯ll fill you in on the details.¡± Thorin settled onto a stool at the bar, the aroma of spiced stew and fresh bread mingling with the lingering scent of woodsmoke. Vorn, still hidden beneath the jacket, listened as the conversation began¡ªa quiet start to the next chapter of Thorin¡¯s journey in this younger, intertwined world. Inside the tavern¡¯s warm glow, Eamon leaned forward behind the bar, his eyes twinkling as he outlined the available work. ¡°Listen here, Thorin,¡± Eamon said in a low, friendly tone. ¡°We¡¯ve got a few small jobs that might suit a man of your... emerging talents.¡± He continued, ¡°There¡¯s a nest of oversized rodents burrowing in the cellar of the old granary on the hamlet¡¯s edge. They¡¯re known as the Iron Rats¡ªnot actual rats, mind you, but their kin with a mean streak. They¡¯ve been causing quite the nuisance.¡± Thorin nodded, listening intently. Next, Eamon added, ¡°Out on the heath, there¡¯s a wild boar roaming free. A beast of impressive size¡ªa relic from a bygone age¡ªtrampling crops and frightening the local farmers. Then, there¡¯s a band of aggressive weasels near the livestock pens. They¡¯re quick and cunning, a mixture of Miocene instincts with modern ferocity. Lastly, strange critters have been spotted nesting in a nearby cave. They¡¯ve been gnawing at the wooden beams of cottages and even the palisade itself.¡± Thorin¡¯s eyes narrowed in determination as he considered the tasks. ¡°I¡¯ll take them all,¡± he declared, voice steady despite the fatigue still lingering from his previous battles. A quiet hum filled his mind as the system processed his decision. One by one, the titles of the accepted quests appeared in a concise system message: Quest Accepted: The Burrow of the Iron Rat Quest Accepted: Wild Boar on the Heath Quest Accepted: The Weasel¡¯s Whisker Quest Accepted: Cave Critters Eamon smiled knowingly. ¡°You¡¯re a busy man, aren¡¯t you? I¡¯ll mark your names down. It won¡¯t be easy, but you¡¯ll find that these tasks will pay off¡ªboth in coin and in experience.¡± Thorin gave a curt nod, already feeling the thrill of the hunt pulsing in his veins. ¡°I¡¯ll start with the Iron Rats. After that, I¡¯ll take care of the boar, then the weasels, and finally those cave critters.¡± As Thorin finished his drink and leaned against the bar after Eamon finished listing the quest options. As the noise in the tavern dimmed into a comfortable murmur, he asked, "Eamon, did you grow up around these parts?" Eamon paused, wiping a glass with a well-worn cloth. A subtle smile played at the corners of his mouth. "Ah, not exactly. I hail from Dublin, you see. I grew up amidst the clamor and charm of that old port city." Thorin raised an eyebrow. "Dublin? But these lands¡­ they¡¯re not Dublin." Eamon chuckled softly. "Indeed, they¡¯re not. I''ve wandered far since my youth. My memories are filled with the bustling streets and lively alleys of Dublin. It''s strange¡ªwhen I look around here, I sometimes feel like a stranger in a familiar dream." Thorin¡¯s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "I find it curious, then. I¡¯ve traveled from afar, pulled from a time and place quite different from here. I suppose neither of us truly belongs to this land." Eamon nodded, his gaze drifting momentarily to the low, stone-ceilinged corner of the tavern. "Aye, we¡¯re both wanderers, caught between the echoes of our origins and the hapenstance of this realm. It seems fate, or perhaps the caprice of time, has crossed our paths here." Either way, I promise you this¡ªif you¡¯re willing to take on the quests that lie ahead, you¡¯ll find that here, even strangers can make a home." Thorin stepped out of the tavern into the cool evening air and made his way down a narrow lane to the quiet courtyard behind the inn. At its center, a moss-covered well offered a secluded spot where he could finish his work in peace. He spread the animal corpses on a rough-hewn crate and knelt beside them, methodically prying meat and valuable parts from the carcasses. Vorn, ever watchful, remained hidden beneath the edge of Thorin¡¯s work jacket, his eyes glinting with silent amusement. After extracting the last useful scrap, Thorin broke the silence. "Remind me how that dimensional storage works," he said. "When I toss these parts in there, do they vanish entirely? And what happens if the spell user dies?" Vorn¡¯s gaze grew thoughtful as he replied, "The storage spell tethers items to another realm¡ªa safe repository beyond the confines of reality. Once stored, the items remain intact within that dimensional bubble, preserved in an unchanging state. If the caster falls, the bubble remains untethered, keeping its contents unchanging." Thorin listened intently, nodding as he carefully placed the salvaged meat and parts into the shimmering portal of the dimensional storage. Once they had vanished from view, he gathered the remaining scraps and made his way back into the inn. Inside the common room, in a quiet corner of the bustling tavern, Thorin struck a deal with the innkeeper. After a brief exchange of coins and careful negotiation, he sold his harvest¡ªmeat and parts that, though modest, promised enough coin to keep him moving forward on his journey. As the coins clinked softly into his pouch, Thorin allowed himself a brief smile. Every small victory, every bit of progress, was a step forward. After a long day, Thorin secured room and board at the tavern. Determined to build on his hard-won strength, he made his way to a small, sparsely furnished room and set doing some basic exercises to see what gains he could get before rest could claim him for the night. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.In the fading light of the evening, Thorin began a grueling routine¡ªpushups, sit-ups, and jumping jacks. With every rep, his muscles burned, and his resolve hardened. As he pushed through the fatigue, a quiet chime echoed in his mind¡ªa brief, system-like notification: Strength increased +1 Stamina increased +1 Though the training was exhausting, he managed only a few hours before sleep overtook him, and he drifted into a short, fragmented rest. The following morning, after a hearty breakfast at the inn, Thorin laced up his worn boots and stepped out into the crisp dawn. The fresh air stirred his spirit as he embarked on a series of wind sprints along the quiet lanes of the hamlet. His legs propelled him faster than before, each sprint a reminder of the improvements he was earning through hard work. After he pushed himself further, another soft chime resonated within his mind: Agility increased +1 Stamina increased +1 These notifications confirmed that his regular exercises were not in vain. Thorin stepped to the edge of the Hamlet with determined strides, the chill of the early morning mingling with the lingering warmth of his recent training. With the quest board¡¯s notifications still echoing in his mind¡ªQuest Accepted: The Burrow of the Iron Rat¡ªhe set off toward the granary on the hamlet¡¯s edge. The Iron Rat Quest The old granary loomed in the distance, its stone walls partially crumbled and overgrown with ivy. Rumors whispered that beneath its decaying facade lay a nest of oversized, feral rodents¡ªthe Iron Rats¡ªthat had infested its dark cellars. As Thorin approached, the distant chatter of Vorn, ever-present though silent, reminded him that every step forward was a step into the unknown. Inside the granary''s cellar, shadows danced among cobwebs and crumbling bricks. Thorin could hear the scurry of tiny feet echoing off the walls. He moved cautiously; his tire iron gripped tightly in one hand while his other hand kept a firm hold on the hilt of his newly reforged spear. The atmosphere was tense, punctuated by the occasional squeak and rustle of movement. Suddenly, from behind a collapsed wall, a group of Iron Rats burst forth. Their eyes glowed with feral intensity as they advanced in a frenzied huddle. Thorin acted quickly. He hurled a rock¡ªhis improving throwing technique finding its mark. The stone collided with one of the creatures, stunning it momentarily, and he seized the opportunity to engage in close combat. A few well-timed swings of his tire iron and thrusts with the spear left the cellar echoing with the chaos of battle. After a relentless skirmish, the Iron Rats lay defeated. Thorin collected the remnants of their pelts and bones, carefully looting every part that might prove valuable. Vorn activated his dimensional storage spell with a subtle gesture¡ªand watched as the salvaged materials vanished into the shimmering portal, secured for later disassembly and trade. A soft system notification Ding chimed in his mind: with the words in his vison ?? Quest Complete: "Iron Rat Infestation" ?? XP Gained: +100 XP ??Iron Rats Defeated 7 +350 XP ??Agility: +0.10 ??Throwing Skill +0.05 ?? Level Up! You are now Level 5! ?? New XP Progress: 250/450 XP toward Level 6 ?? Coins Received: 4 Tin Coins Thorin allowed himself a brief moment of satisfaction before retracing his steps back. The Weasel Quest Thorin reviewed his next task. The next quest on his slate was Quest Accepted: The Weasel¡¯s Whisker. According to the description, a band of unusually aggressive, cunning weasels had been seen prowling near the livestock pens. Their rapid movements and sharp instincts were said to be a relic of a primeval age, blending traits of late Miocene predators with modern ferocity. With a renewed sense of purpose Thorin set out once more. He approached the livestock pens on the otherside of the hamlet, where the air carried a faint, musky scent and the low bleats of cattle mingled with the rustling of the undergrowth. Before long, he spotted them: several weasels, sleek and lithe, darting in and out of the shadows, their eyes glinting in the morning light. Thorin took a deep breath and activated his throwing skill once more, sending a carefully aimed rock toward a particularly bold creature. The rock struck true, and chaos erupted as the startled weasels scattered. Seizing the moment, Thorin engaged in swift, precise melee combat when necessary¡ªrelying on his agility and newly acquired mobility to dodge their quick strikes. Between dodges and counterattacks, Vorn¡¯s silent presence was a constant reassurance. The battle was short but intense. With persistence and well-timed maneuvers, Thorin managed to subdue the aggressive band. He then gathered a few stray items left behind¡ªa small token here, a bit of pelage there¡ªto be stored for later or sold for coin. Another system message resounded in his mind: ?? Quest Complete: "Weasel Woes" ?? Agility +0.05 ??Throwing Skill +0.05 ?? XP Gained: +100 XP ?? Weasels defeated: 3 +150 XP ?? Level Up! You are now Level 6! ?? New XP Progress: 50/500 XP toward Level 7 ?? Coins Received: 2 Tin Coins With both quests now completed, Thorin felt the steady rhythm of progress. The challenges of the granary cellar and the livestock pens had further honed his skills, confirmed by the system notifications and the weight of coin in his pouch. As Thorin wiped the sweat from his brow, he took a deep breath and turned toward Vorn, who remained nestled beneath his jacket, his golden eyes gleaming with silent amusement. The aftermath of the weasel skirmish left Thorin feeling a mix of satisfaction and exhaustion, but there was still work to be done. Thorin leaned against a wooden fence, glancing up at the sky as the first hints of midday light filtered through the trees. "That makes two quests down," he murmured. "Iron Rats dealt with, weasels cleared out. That leaves the boar on the heath and whatever¡¯s lurking in that cave." Vorn shifted slightly, his voice threading into Thorin¡¯s mind like a whisper on the wind. "You¡¯ve gained experience, your skills are improving, and you¡¯ve secured enough coin for another night at the tavern. But the next tasks won¡¯t be as simple. The boar is larger, stronger¡ªan ancient remnant. It won¡¯t fall to simple strikes like the weasels did." Thorin nodded, rolling his shoulders. "Yeah, I figured as much. It¡¯s not like I can just throw a rock at it and expect it to drop. I¡¯ll need a plan¡­ maybe a trap, or at least a way to keep it from running me down." "And the cave?" Vorn prompted. Thorin exhaled slowly. "That one¡¯s an unknown. Eamon said something¡¯s gnawing on beams and the palisade itself. Could be anything. And if it''s nesting inside, it probably has numbers." His expression hardened. "I¡¯ll deal with the boar first. It¡¯s a more immediate threat, and I don¡¯t like the idea of a beast running wild while I¡¯m distracted by a cave full of who-knows-what." Vorn hummed thoughtfully. " Be cautious, your stamina is improving, yet you¡¯re still mortal As Thorin and Vorn made their way toward the heath, the air grew thick with the scent of trampled grass and damp earth. The terrain was vast and open, rolling gently under the weight of a dull breeze. Patches of brush and small clusters of rocks dotted the landscape, a lone, sturdy tree standing defiantly in the middle of the field¡ªtall enough to offer safety from a charging boar, its thick limbs promising stable footing. Thorin surveyed the area as he walked, already considering the best angles for an ambush. "If I could get up there, I might be able to stab down at it. It¡¯d be out of reach, but I¡¯d still need to deal enough damage fast enough before it tears the tree apart or leaves." Vorn, nestled against his chest, hummed in thought. "A viable plan. You are beginning to think in terms of tatics. Still, it may require adjustments. If the beast is intelligent enough to recognize the threat, it may attempt to uproot or circle the tree." As they walked, Thorin¡¯s thoughts drifted to something more ambitious. "Say, Vorn, is it possible to mine into abandoned dimensional spaces? Like, breaking into old ones to pull out gear, materials, maybe even some lost treasure?" Vorn went still, his golden eyes narrowing slightly in thought. "A curious notion. I do not know. The logistics of combining dimensional spaces or breaching their boundaries are¡­ uncertain. Most pocket realms exist in isolation, severed from others unless tied by an anchoring force. If one were to enter such a space and attempt to open a secondary exit¡­" He trailed off, his mind racing. Thorin grinned. "Would be one hell of a way to fill a hoard." Vorn¡¯s silence lingered for longer than usual, Thorin swore he felt a ripple of something unusual, an excitement coursing through the air. "It is an idea worthy of deeper consideration." There was a weight to his words, a reevaluation of Thorin himself. "Perhaps you are not as short-sighted as I initially believed." Thorin Blackwood Race: Human Level: 6 (450 XP to next level) Constitution: 7 (350 Health) Mana: Unknown Strength: 4.25 Dexterity: 2.50 Agility: 2.75 Stamina: 2.50 Intelligence: 3.50 Skills & Abilities Mobility Speed: Acquired Armor Piercing: Acquired Evade Skill: 0.25 Throwing Skill: 0.55 Equipment Weapons: Goblin spear. One basic spear Sack of gathered rocks Armor: Basic Chapter 3 Opportunity rich environment Chapter 3 Opportunity rich environment Thorin smirked but said nothing as they finally reached the heath. He took in the layout, his eyes locking onto the solitary tree standing like a watchtower in the field. Perfect. He made his way toward it, testing the bark for handholds when¡ª "Movement." Vorn¡¯s tone sharpened. Thorin froze, his eyes darting to the horizon. From the eastern edge of the field, three goblins were making their way toward the tree, chatting in their guttural tongue, weapons slung lazily over their shoulders. He didn''t know if they had spotted him, but he wasn¡¯t about to risk an open fight in the middle of a field with no cover. Without hesitation, Thorin scaled the tree, hauling himself up onto a thick branch just as the goblins closed the distance. He barely managed to pull himself out of sight when he heard them approaching the tree¡¯s base, their voices filled with casual bickering. As he steadied his breathing, another shape caught his eye. Emerging from the opposite side of the heath, the quest boar¡ªa monstrous, scarred beast with thick bristled fur and wickedly curved tusks¡ªlumbered into view. It sniffed the air, its massive frame moving with a deceptive grace for its bulk. It was heading straight for the goblins. Thorin slowly reached for his two spears, testing their weight in his grip. At the same time, he carefully opened his sack of rocks, the ones he had gathered along the way. A wicked grin spread across his face. "Well, this just got interesting." Thorin crouched low on the thick tree branch, his grip tightening around his crude spear as he watched the goblins move into position. The boar, a massive beast covered in coarse, bristling fur, snorted and scraped the ground, its small, furious eyes locking onto the goblins. The goblin with the shield and axe banged his weapon against the wooden rim of his shield, drawing the boar¡¯s attention. The other two goblins flanked to either side¡ªone gripping a long, rusted spear, the other a jagged-edged sword and dagger. Their plan was clear: the shield-bearer would hold the boar in place while the others struck from the sides, cutting and bleeding it. Thorin remained perfectly still, his breath controlled. The moment the goblins had done their work, he would strike. The boar bellowed and charged. The shield-bearing goblin braced, his squat legs digging into the dirt. The impact sent him sliding back, but he held firm, gritting his sharp teeth. The spearman lunged, stabbing into the boar¡¯s exposed flank. A squeal of rage erupted from the beast as blood splattered the dry grass. The sword-wielding goblin darted in from the other side, slashing at the thick hide, drawing another deep wound. The battle raged below as the goblins worked to keep the boar under control. Thorin watched closely. The shield-bearer was focused entirely on defense, locked in a battle of endurance with the boar. The others were too busy attacking to notice him. Now. Thorin shifted his weight and struck. His crude spear plunged downward, the tip punching through the top of the shield goblin¡¯s skull with a sickening crunch. The creature stiffened; his body held up only by the weight of the boar still pressing into his shield. Thorin yanked the spear free, and the goblin collapsed in a boneless heap. The remaining goblins barely had time to react. The boar, freed from its primary target, turned wildly. The sword-wielding goblin screamed as the boar¡¯s tusks caught him in the gut, lifting him off the ground before flinging him aside like a ragdoll. Thorin struck again. He reversed his grip on the spear and drove it down into the spearman¡¯s exposed neck, the blade punching through flesh and windpipe. The goblin gurgled and thrashed before slumping lifelessly into the dirt. The boar, now mortally wounded and alone, stumbled. Thorin adjusted his stance, took aim, and hurled his crude spear, the weapon sinking deep into the beast¡¯s shoulder. As the boar staggered, he leaped from the tree, the goblin spear aimed downward. The force of his fall drove the weapon straight through the boar¡¯s skull. A final shudder ran through the beast¡¯s massive frame before it collapsed, blood pooling around its head. Thorin pulled his spear free and took a step back, breathing heavily. The battlefield was silent. Total XP Earned: 300 XP (Goblins) + 200 XP (Boar) = 500 XP [Quest Completed: The Heath Menace] You have slain the rampaging boar terrorizing the heath. The villagers will be relieved, and the hamlet¡¯s hunters can now safely gather game once more. Reward: 5 Copper Bonus for Solo Completion: 2 Copper Total Earned: 7 Copper XP Earned: 100 Thorin exhaled, rolling his shoulders as the weight of the battle settled in. He glanced at the dead goblins and the fallen boar, then at the lone sturdy tree that had given him the advantage. Not bad. He reached down, collecting the coins from the goblins¡¯ pouches before retrieving his spears and gathering anything else of value Thorin and Vorn survey the aftermath of the battle, ensuring no threats remain. With the boar eliminated, Thorin brings up the other quest, weighing whether they should tackle it immediately. Vorn tilts his head in thought. "If the cave is dark, you¡¯ll need a light source." Thorin considers their options. "We could gather materials and make torches, but that takes time. Maybe there''s another way¡ªdo you know anything that could help?" Vorn hums, mulling over the possibilities. "Some creatures see without light, but I don''t think you have that ability. We could look for glowing fungi or crystals, or perhaps you could craft a lantern instead." Thorin nods. "If we can''t find another solution, we¡¯ll have to make do with torches. Either way, we should prepare before heading in." Thorin and Vorn traveled across the heath, their pace steady but cautious. With the boar no longer a threat, they could now focus on completing the other quest. As they walked, Thorin collected dry moss, twigs, and thick branches that could serve as makeshift torches. Vorn, floating nearby, occasionally flicked his gaze toward promising pieces of firewood, his sharp vision helping locate the driest materials. By the time they reached the cave entrance, they had enough to prepare several torches and fuel for small campfires. The cave mouth yawned before them, dark and uninviting, with the faint scent of damp stone and decay drifting out. Thorin crouched by the entrance, quickly fashioning torches by binding dry moss and strips of cloth around sturdy branches. He handed one to Vorn, though the wyrm had no hands for it. Vorn gave a low hum. ¡°I can ignite these when needed. Use them wisely.¡± Thorin nodded. He pressed his ear to the rock wall, listening. Faint skittering sounds echoed from within likely the very creatures they were sent to deal with. He readied his spear, adjusting his grip. "Let¡¯s get started." Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.Thorin lit the first torch with Vorn¡¯s help, then planted it in the dirt near the entrance. It cast flickering shadows along the rough walls, revealing a winding passage leading deeper inside. They moved cautiously, placing small piles of firewood at key points along the way¡ªpotential barriers to cut off an enemy¡¯s retreat or funnel them into an ambush. As they ventured deeper, the air grew stale, and the sounds became more distinct. The creatures were close. Thorin crouched, gripping his spear, readying for battle. Piling a small amount of wood, Vorn ignited it. The first enemies revealed themselves¡ªcave vermin, large rat-like creatures with elongated fangs and sharp claws. Their beady eyes glinted in the light as they scurried toward Thorin, hissing. Thorin thrust at the first one, skewering it, before kicking the corpse off the weapon. The second lunged for his leg, but he pivoted, smashing it against the wall with the shaft of his spear before driving the tip into its throat. More were coming. Thorin hurled a torch forward. The flame crashed into a pile of dry twigs, igniting instantly. The fire flared up, forcing the creatures back with screeches. Singing the closest. Using the flames to pin the vermin in a choke point, Thorin speared two more before they could react. Another tried to rush past the fire, only for Vorn to breathe out a small jet of flame, scorching it mid-leap. It landed with a smoldering hiss, twitching before being eaten by Vorn. Thorin looked at Vorn flatly, "what I was hungry, besides it was my kill" With the creatures pushed into a tight corner, Thorin lit another pile of wood, that prevented them from escaping deeper into the cave. The remaining vermin, desperate, charged through the flames¡ªalready burning as they lunged. Thorin met them with quick thrusts of his spear, finishing them off one by one. As the last fell, the cave was left silent except for the fire. Thorin wiped sweat from his brow, exhaling sharply. ¡°That went better than expected.¡± Vorn hovered above the smoldering remains, inspecting them. ¡°Fire is quite effective, you should gather anything useful before heading back.¡± Thorin quickly searched the cave, retrieving a few intact fangs, pelts, and bones that might be useful for trade. Leaving the torch near the entrance lit as they made their way out. Outside, the night had begun to settle over the heath. The two exchanged a look before Thorin stretched, feeling the exhaustion set in. ¡°Let¡¯s head back to the hamlet,¡± he said. ¡°Time to collect our reward.¡± Thorin and Vorn made their way back to the hamlet, their packs heavier with loot and coin. The battle with the goblins, boar, and cave creatures had been profitable, but Thorin knew his equipment needed improvement. They headed straight for the local blacksmith, who also ran the hamlet¡¯s general goods store, to do just that. The blacksmith, a grizzled older man with soot-stained arms, looked up as Thorin placed both goblin spears on the counter. Thorin: "Can you combine these? I need a better spear¡ªstronger head, more balanced shaft." The smith inspected the weapons, nodding. "Aye, I can reforgin'' ''em into something'' proper. That goblin metal ain''t great, but with a better head and solid Ashwood for the shaft, it''ll hold true. Cost you though." Thorin placed the looted sword and dagger on the counter. "How about a trade?" The smith scratched his beard, considering. "A fair trade, with a few coins on top for labor. That works." Thorin then set down the goblin axe and his battered shield. Thorin: "Can you fix this shield? Maybe reinforce it with some of this boar hide?" The smith smirked. "Now that''s an idea. Leather backing will absorb shock, and I can reinforce the rim with better iron after expanding its size. The axe in trade will cover the work." With the trades settled, Thorin sold the remainder of his boar meat, pelts, and vermin fangs, earning a handful of copper coins. As they browsed the shop, Thorin¡¯s gaze landed on a simple cloth bag, appearing to be filled with stones. Thorin: "Why is this so cheap?" The blacksmith chuckled, shaking his head. "That? Hah! Some enchanter tried to make a bag connected to some useful or expensive realm. But somethin'' went wrong, and all it does is pull rocks from gods-know-where. Can¡¯t store nothin¡¯ else in it. No one wants a bag that only ever gives you rocks." Vorn immediately perked up, his eyes flashing. A limitless supply of rocks? Thorin, grinning: "We¡¯ll take it." The smith laughed, happy to be rid of the useless bag. They finished their transactions at the smithy, with two days before the gear would be ready, Thorin knew he had time to train. He turned to Vorn, holding up the Bottomless Bag of Rocks with a smirk. Thorin: "Do you think I can throw rocks into the spell?" Vorn¡¯s eye-light flickered in what could only be interpreted as incredulity. "Did you fall on your head? Why in all the realms would you want to do that?" Thorin¡¯s grin widened. "Because if you can shoot them back out at me at the same speed, I throw them in, I can use it to train my evade and mobility speed. And if I throw them back after dodging, my throwing skill gets better too." Vorn went silent for a moment, then slowly nodded. Your logic is sound." With that, they headed to a secluded clearing on the edge of the hamlet, out of sight of curious eyes. Thorin stood several paces away from Vorn, gripping a rock from the bag. Thorin: "Ready?" Vorn tilted his head, giving the signal. With a sharp snap, Thorin hurled the first rock straight into the spells opening. A split-second later, a blur of motion shot back at him¡ªVorn had launched it with precise force. Thorin twisted, narrowly dodging the projectile as it whizzed past his ear. Thorin: "Perfect!" For the next hour, they repeated the process: Thorin threw rocks into the bag. Vorn launched them back at increasing speeds. Thorin dodged, rolled, and sidestepped, gradually increasing his reaction time. He occasionally caught a rock midair and threw it back, working on his aim and dexterity. At first, several hit him, leaving small bruises, but with each attempt, he became sharper, faster. His body adapted, adjusting to the rhythm of attack and evasion. Then the messages started. System Notifications: [Mobility Speed] increased! [Evade Skill] increased! [Throwing Skill] increased! [Dexterity +0.10] Breathing heavily, Thorin wiped sweat from his forehead. He wasn''t expecting the boost to his dexterity, but the results were clear¡ªhis aim was better. Thorin: "Didn''t expect that last one, but I''ll take it." Vorn nodded approvingly, though his eye-light still flickered with amusement. "Your survival instincts are adequate. Hoard value still rising." Thorin felt the difference¡ªhis movements were sharper, smoother, and his aim more precise. He was still far from an expert, but with each training session, his combat efficiency continued to rise. Vorn, meanwhile, seemed satisfied with the results, though his eye-light flickered with mild amusement at Thorin¡¯s unconventional approach. Tomorrow, they would continue training while waiting for their upgraded gear to be completed. Thorin chuckled. This method of training was working. He might not have formal instruction, but between creative problem-solving and Vorn¡¯s assistance, he was getting stronger every day. With the sun setting, they decided to head back into the hamlet, eat, exercise and rest¡ªtomorrow, they would continue training while waiting for their gear to be finished. With two full days before his upgraded gear was ready, Thorin committed himself to an intense training regimen. He paid for room and board, ate dinner, and repeated his previous night¡¯s exercises, gaining similar improvements. The next morning, he set into a structured cycle: Speed and evasion drills (dodging rocks). Strength and endurance training (sprinting, pushups sit-ups, burpees). Throwing practice (using the BBR). 45 minutes of training, followed by 15 minutes of meditation to recover stamina. Repeated throughout the day with brief rests for food and hydration. For two full days, Thorin pushed his limits, only stopping for meals, meditation, and sleep. By the third morning, his training had yielded substantial improvements. By the time Thorin picks up his upgraded gear, he has significantly improved his physical stats and combat skills. His speed, endurance, and accuracy have increased, making him a more capable fighter. Constitution 7.25 (360 Health) Mana: Unknown Strength 28.50 Dexterity 26.75 Agility 3.00 27.00 Stamina 26.75 Intelligence 27.75 Skill Gains Skill Post-Cave Quest Mobility Speed Armor Piercing Acquired Evade Skill 24.50 Throwing Skill 24.65 Dexterity (Aim) Skill 24.00 Spear Combat 1.00 Fire Tactics 0.50 Physical & Performance Changes Faster Stronger, Greater stamina, better accuracy. More defined muscle tone, making him visibly stronger and more athletic. Primary Stats Constitution 7.25 (360 Health) Strength 28.50 Dexterity 26.75 Agility 27.00 Stamina 26.75 Intelligence 3.75 Skills & Abilities Mobility Speed Acquired Armor Piercing Acquired Evade 24.50 Throwing 24.65 Dexterity (Aim)24.00 Spear Combat 1.00 Fire Tactics 0.50 Upgraded Spear (Reforged, improved balance and spearhead) BBR (Bottomless Bag of Rocks) Upgraded Shield (Larger, reinforced, and covered with boar hide) Assorted coins from selling loot Various survival supplies and food rations Chapter 4 Rockit Man Chapter 4 Rock It Man. With the sun rising over the hamlet, Thorin and Vorn made their way to the blacksmith''s shop after breakfast. The smell of heated metal and oil filled the air as they stepped inside. The smith, a burly man with arms like tree trunks, greeted them with a nod and gestured to their newly improved equipment. Improved Spear: The two goblin spears had been reforged into a single, sturdier weapon, its shaft balanced and reinforced, with a superior spearhead. Reworked Shield: The goblin shield had been enlarged, reinforced, and covered with toughened boar hide, making it far more durable. Thorin tested the balance of his new spear, giving it a few thrusts. The upgrades had cost them some loot, but it was well worth it. After finalizing the trade, they sold the remaining excess materials and made any last-minute purchases, ensuring they were fully supplied for the journey ahead. With their business concluded, they left the smithy and made their way to the edge of the hamlet, standing at the crossroads. "Time to move forward," Thorin said, gripping his spear. Vorn nodded, and together they struck out onto the road, leaving the hamlet behind. As they walked, the buildings grew smaller behind them, eventually vanishing as they rounded a distant bend in the road. They did not look back. After Thorin and Vorn have long since left the hamlet, the surrounding forest grows unnaturally still. From the treetops, dozens of small figures emerge, their tiny forms scarred, their eyes glinting with the fire of vengeance. The Squirrel Council has arrived. They scurry to the hamlet¡¯s rooftops and tree branches, sniffing the air and chittering in agitation. Though their quarry is gone, his scent still lingers, marking this place as his last known refuge. One particularly grizzled squirrel¡ªa chieftain, with a ragged ear and a missing patch of fur¡ªperches atop the tallest tree, surveying the hamlet below. It clicks its teeth in irritation, then signals to the others. The council convenes, discussing their next move. They are not fast overland, their small legs and short strides making pursuit difficult¡ªbut vengeance is patient. They will follow the trail, no matter how long it takes. The squirrels do not forget. And they do not forgive. The dirt road stretched before them, winding through rolling hills and patches of woodland. The hamlet was long behind them, and in its place lay the unknown¡ªopportunity, danger, and the potential for wealth and power. Thorin adjusted the strap of his shield as he walked. ¡°So how far is this town?¡± Vorn, floating beside him, turned his glowing gaze toward the horizon. ¡°I believe it should take about two days'' travel at a normal pace.¡± Thorin nodded thoughtfully. ¡°Two days is a long time to just walk. I need more training anyway. What if I run as far as I can until I physically can¡¯t keep going?¡± Vorn regarded him for a moment before giving a slow nod of approval. ¡°Your stamina and constitution would both improve that way. It is a sound plan.¡± Without another word, Thorin broke into a jog, his spear secured to his back, his shield bouncing slightly against his arm. The fresh morning air was crisp, the sun warm but not yet oppressive. He kept a steady pace, pushing his body and endurance to the limit. As the morning passed, his breathing grew heavier, his muscles burning from the continuous exertion. He kept running, determined to push past his limits. His training in the hamlet had prepared him for this, but this was an entirely different kind of strain. By midday, he could go no further. His legs felt like lead, his lungs ached, and his vision wavered from exhaustion. Spotting a lone tree at the side of the road, he stumbled toward it and collapsed into the shade, panting heavily. ?? System Notification: ?? +2 Constitution ?? +3 Stamina He grinned between breaths, feeling the soreness in his muscles but also the unmistakable sense of improvement. Vorn coiled nearby, watching with interest. ¡°Your ability to adapt is impressive. If you continue like this, you will surpass many warriors simply through sheer conditioning.¡± Thorin wiped the sweat from his brow, smirking. ¡°That¡¯s the plan." As he recovered, Thorin leaned against the tree, drinking from his waterskin. ¡°So, about dimensional spaces¡­¡± Vorn''s eyes flickered. ¡°What about them?¡± Thorin exhaled. ¡°I was thinking¡­ what if we could pirate them? Steal from abandoned ones, crack them open, and loot whatever¡¯s inside? There has to be treasure, weapons, and resources just waiting.¡± Vorn was silent for a moment, then hummed in thought. ¡°The idea is¡­ intriguing. But the mechanics of it are unclear. Dimensional spaces are sealed pockets of reality, usually anchored to a specific point, object, or being. Breaking into one is no simple feat.¡± Thorin tapped a finger on his knee. ¡°What if instead of breaking in, we find a way to link one to another? Open a back door into them?¡± Vorn¡¯s gaze sharpened, and Thorin could tell the idea had sparked genuine interest in the wyrm. ¡°Such a technique would be revolutionary¡­ if it¡¯s possible. But if you pirate one space, what stops others from pirating yours?¡± Thorin smirked. ¡°That¡¯s why we get better at it first.¡± Vorn stared at him for a long moment, then let out an amused huff. ¡°You are far more ambitious than I initially thought. I may need to reconsider your potential yet again.¡± "So, two days to the next town," Thorin muttered. "Roughly," Vorn confirmed. "Perhaps a bit longer if we¡¯re slowed down. You need more training in endurance anyway." Thorin groaned. "I just ran until my legs turned to jelly." "Yes, and you gained two Constitution and three Stamina. Imagine how much more you could gain if you pushed even further." Thorin leaned against the tree, smirking. "I don''t think I have another run like that in me right now. Let¡¯s take a break, then talk business." Vorn inclined his head. "Business?" "Pirating dimensional spaces," Thorin said, stretching his arms. "You never really explained if you can go into your own DHS." Vorn gave him an incredulous look. "One does not simply waltz into DHS," he said, voice laced with dry amusement. "It is a fundamental limitation of the spell. I can store things inside, but I cannot enter myself. "Right," Thorin mused. "But can a living being survive inside?" Vorn hesitated. "I¡¯ve heard of other Wyrms placing living creatures in their DHS, but it consumes additional mana per second. The larger the creature, the more it costs. That means there''s a time limit." "Then we should test it," Thorin decided. Vorn flicked his tail. "You''re volunteering?" "Not exactly, we¡¯ll do this carefully. You have rope, right?" A moment later, a coil of rope dropped from Vorn¡¯s storage. Thorin tied one end securely to the tree and wrapped the other around his waist. "Alright, if things get weird, I¡¯ll just pull myself out." Mused Vorn: If? Taking a deep breath, Thorin stepped forward and cautiously pushed his head into the DHS. For a moment, his vision blurred, then he found himself looking at a vast, white emptiness. It wasn¡¯t bright or dark¡ªjust an infinite, featureless void. The floor beneath him felt solid, though there was no texture. Around him, everything Vorn had stored was neatly arranged in grids and rows, suspended in the air as if weightless but perfectly still. It was oddly peaceful. Thorin pulled himself out and turned to Vorn. "It¡¯s... strange. Looks like a flexible bubble in non-space, all white. No distance or horizon, but the tavern from the hamlet would barely fit inside, and theres no line." "What?" "Oh nothing, forget I said the last part" Vorn hummed in thought. "If you were fine in there, that means you could function inside for a short time, provided I could sustain the mana cost." Thorin¡¯s mind raced with possibilities. "If I can go in, I can interact with things inside... that could be useful." "More importantly," Vorn said, "if the DHS exists in non-space, then all DHS bubbles should exist in the same plane. In theory, they could be linked or even stolen." Thorin grinned. "Then let¡¯s steal one." They quickly devised a plan. Using Thorin¡¯s newly improved spear, they would imbue it with a sliver of dimensional magic, then tie a rope to it. If DHS bubbles occupied the same space, the spear should be able to make contact with another. Vorn hovered over the plan. "In theory, you could ¡®fish¡¯ for another DHS by launching the spear out of mine. If it makes contact, you could pull it in." "Let''s test it." Vorn infused the spear with a thin layer of dimensional energy. Tying the rope tightly around it and stepping in he took careful aim and hurled the spear to the left. As soon as it left the bubble¡¯s boundary, it impaled another DHS in the distance. Thorin grasped the rope and began pulling. Thorin yanked too hard. The new DHS snapped forward, colliding with Vorn¡¯s. Instead of stopping at the boundary, it fused opening a round doorway then the two bubbles merged instantly, expanding in size. For a moment, everything stabilized. Thorin quickly pulled himself out using the rope tied to the tree. As he emerged, he found Vorn sagging in the air, visibly drained. Vorn jolted. "That... shouldn¡¯t have happened so easily." Thorin frowned. "Why not?" "I didn''t think we could pull one still tethered to another caster. If it came this easily, it means it''s unclaimed meaning it''s fair game." "You alright?" Thorin asked. Vorn exhaled. "That... took more mana than expected." Thorin sat down, wiping his hands on his pants. "But it worked." Vorn gave a tired nod. "Yes. And now my DHS is bigger." Thorin smirked. "Looks like we¡¯re taking over the DHS." As Thorin catches his breath from the exertion of pulling in the new DHS, he glances over at Vorn, who looks visibly fatigued but also oddly satisfied. Thorin wipes the sweat from his forehead. "So¡­ what did we get?" Vorn, still catching his breath, doesn''t respond immediately. After a moment, his eyes gleam with draconic satisfaction as he mentally sorts through the new additions to his hoard. Then, with a pleased rumble, he lists off the items: Simple Iron Helmet ¨C Sturdy, decent protection. Hoplite-Shaped Iron Helmet ¨C More coverage and reinforcement, +5 defense. Leather and Bronze Scale Mail ¨C Flexible but protective, +10 defense. Studded Leather Leggings ¨C Good balance of mobility and defense, +5 defense. Iron Greaves ¨C Protects the shins from strikes. Bronze Vambraces ¨C Arm guards, +3 defense. Leather Gauntlets ¨C Light but useful, +2 defense, +1 agility. Black Leather Boots ¨C Well-made, offers stamina support, +1 stamina. Whetstone ¨C Can be used to maintain weapons. Flint & Steel ¨C Fire-starting essentials. Bedroll ¨C A bit worn but still useful. Cooking Pot ¨C Metal, slightly dented, good for meals. Iron Axe ¨C Reliable for chopping or combat. Iron Short Sword ¨C A balanced blade, practical for a variety of fights. Small Coin Pouch ¨C Contains 12 copper and 8 tin. Wooden Box ¨C Sealed, contents unknown. Strange Metal Disc ¨C Faint etchings, possibly magical. Bone Carving of a Beast ¨C Tribal-looking, possibly decorative or valuable. Blue Gemstone ¨C Unknown properties. Dimensional Residue Orb ¨C Flickers faintly. Tiny Metal Cube ¨C No seams, oddly heavy for its size. Ashen Feather ¨C Warm to the touch, likely from a fire-based creature. Scrap of Enchanted Cloth ¨C Faint magical glow. As soon as Vorn reaches the bone carving, gemstone, and cube, his eyes gleam with a predatory hunger. His head snaps toward Thorin, and he declares without room for argument, "No haggling. These are mine." Thorin raises an eyebrow at the sheer intensity in Vorn¡¯s usually measured tone but simply shrugs. "Wasn''t going to argue. You pulled in the space, after all." Vorn, satisfied, nods once and quickly tucks his chosen treasures away within the DHS. Thorin stretches and eyes the remaining items. "Well, now that we have all this, I should probably gear up properly" He methodically begins equipping the new pieces.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Hoplite Iron Helmet ¨C He slides it onto his head, feeling the snug fit and solid protection. It slightly limits his peripheral vision but offers excellent head coverage. Leather and Bronze Scale Mail ¨C The segmented scales flex as he moves, providing a balance of mobility and protection. Studded Leather Leggings ¨C He fastens them securely, feeling the reinforced material against his legs. Iron Greaves ¨C He straps them onto his shins, adding an extra layer of defense. Bronze Vambraces ¨C He tightens them over his forearms, testing his wrist movement. They provide protection without sacrificing flexibility. Leather Gauntlets ¨C These fit comfortably over his hands, adding a slight boost to agility. Black Leather Boots ¨C Worn but sturdy, he laces them tightly. The slight boost to stamina will help on the road. Finally, he secures the Iron Short Sword in its scabbard and attaches it to his belt, ensuring it¡¯s positioned for a quick draw. Though he still prefers the spear for most fights, having a backup weapon is always wise. After adjusting everything, he takes a few experimental movements¡ªsquatting, twisting, rolling his shoulders. The weight is heavier than his previous gear, but not unbearable. He¡¯ll need to adjust to it, but the added protection is well worth the trade-off. "Feels solid," Thorin mutters, nodding to himself. "I can work with this." Vorn watches approvingly. "A warrior should look the part," he rumbles, there are always more hoards to claim." After equipping his new gear, Thorin turns his attention to the wooden box they pulled from the pirated Dimensional Hoard Space. He kneels beside it, running his fingers along the worn edges before prying open the lid. Inside, neatly folded, is a black hooded cloak made from a surprisingly fine material. He lifts it out, letting the fabric flow between his fingers. It¡¯s lightweight, yet dense¡ªperhaps enchanted. Beneath the cloak, two scrolls lie side by side, the parchment old but well-preserved. Each is bound with a simple wax seal, unmarked except for faint arcane etchings along the edges. Thorin picks one up, feeling a strange tingle run through his fingers. Finally, at the bottom of the box, a small pouch of gold coins jingles softly as he lifts it. He unties the cord and peers inside¡ªseven gold coins gleam in the light. More wealth than he¡¯s ever held at once. He lets out a low whistle. ¡°Not bad.¡± Vorn tilts his head, his gaze locked on the cloak and scrolls. ¡°The scrolls may contain spells or knowledge. Dangerous or valuable.¡± As Thorin unfurls the first scroll, the faint etchings along the parchment shimmer in the daylight. His eyes scan the text, an unfamiliar yet strangely intuitive script unfolding before him. As he concentrates, the letters begin to glow, lifting off the page in tendrils of golden light before spiraling into his hands. A sudden pulse of energy rushes through him. The scroll disintegrates into motes of light, vanishing completely. A system message appears in his vision: Spell learned: Cure Minor Wounds (Basic healing magic, restores minor injuries and alleviates pain.) Stat Increase: Mana: +2 MP: 100 Thorin exhales sharply, flexing his fingers as warmth lingers in his palms. He now had magic. Real, usable magic. "Well," he mutters, "that was unexpected." Vorn gazes at him, intrigued. ¡°Healing? You are now slightly less fragile.¡± Thorin smirks and grabs the second scroll. "Might as well see what else is in store." Repeating the process, he focuses again. This time, the glow is a deep crimson, wrapping around his hands like flickering embers before seeping into his skin. The scroll vanishes in a wisp of heat. System Notice: Spell learned: Imbue Fire (Enchants a weapon or object with magical flames, dealing +5 fire damage per second for 5 seconds.) Stat Increase: Mana: +2 MP: 120 Thorin clenches a fist, feeling a faint heat pulsing beneath his skin. He could now heal wounds and set his weapons ablaze. Vorn hums in approval. ¡°A warrior with fire and healing? Versatile. He fastens the pouch to his belt and slings the black cloak over his shoulders, pulling the hood up. The fabric feels unnaturally cool, as if it adjusts to temperature. Another mystery to unravel later. They set off, the road, and a hoard of possibilities ahead. As the sun rises, Thorin straps on his gear, adjusting the weight of his newly acquired armor. The road ahead stretches toward the large town, and Vorn, perched under the cloak, hums in amusement. ¡°You should continue training,¡± the wyrm advises. ¡°Imbue your rocks with fire and strike distant targets while running. It will improve your accuracy, mana, and endurance. The added weight of your armor will aid your stamina and strength as well.¡± Thorin nods, already feeling the strain of his equipment. ¡°Might as well push it while we travel.¡± They set off at a steady jog. Each time Thorin spots a suitable target¡ªscattered stones on the road, sturdy tree limbs, or distant stumps¡ªhe focuses, channeling mana into a rock. It flares with fire as he hurls it, sending sparks flying upon impact. The process is exhausting. Maintaining speed, focusing on aim, and managing mana takes its toll. After an hour and a half, he is forced to stop, chest heaving as he leans against a tree. The weight of his armor saps his stamina faster than expected. System Notices: Throwing Skill +0.50 (25.15) Imbue Fire Skill +0.75 (0.75) Mana +2 (MP: 122) Strength +1.00 Stamina +2.50 After Thorin catches his breath, wiping the sweat from his brow, he glances down at another rock in his hand. He rolls it between his fingers before looking toward Vorn under the cloak. ¡°You sure this isn¡¯t gonna start fires?¡± he asks, nodding toward the patches of grass and underbrush where some of his earlier fire-imbued projectiles had landed. Vorn snorts softly. ¡°The undergrowth is still damp from last night¡¯s moisture. Even if you hit dry bark, the flames won¡¯t last long enough to catch. Keep training. You need the improvement.¡± Thorin exhales sharply and resumes his run, forcing his body to push through the fatigue. Every few paces, he channels mana into a rock, feeling the heat of the spell flare in his palm, before hurling it toward distant targets¡ªtree stumps, thick branches, and scattered stones. Each impact bursts in a flash of magic fire, leaving brief scorch marks but nothing dangerous. The repeated strain burns through his stamina and mana quickly, forcing him to find a rhythm between running, aiming, and conserving energy. By late afternoon, Thorin¡¯s throwing accuracy has improved noticeably, and the imbuing process feels more natural, though the weight of his armor steadily drains his endurance. System Notices: Throwing Skill +0.35 (25.50) Imbue Fire Skill +0.50 (1.25) Mana +1 (MP: 123) Strength +0.50 Stamina +1.50 They find a clearing by the road, a perfect campsite. Setting up a small campfire, Thorin ventures into the brush, using a rock to stun a pheasant before swiftly dispatching it with his short sword. He plucks the feathers, skewers the bird, and roasts it over the flames. The meal is simple but satisfying. As the fire crackles, Vorn dozes under the cloak while Thorin launches into his usual exercise routine¡ªpushups, sprints, and agility drills¡ªuntil the stars begin to twinkle overhead. System Notices: Strength +0.75 (30.25) Dexterity +1.00 (27.75) Agility +1.00 (28.00) Stamina +1.50 (30.75) After several hours, Thorin wakes Vorn, storing his gear before lying down to sleep. The wyrm keeps watch, his keen gaze glinting in the firelight. At dawn, Thorin re-equips his armor, shaking off lingering fatigue. He discusses their plan with Vorn before setting off, running and training as before. The fiery impacts of his imbued rocks scare off wildlife and potential threats, clearing their path. This time, he refuses to stop. He pushes past exhaustion, muscles burning as the town finally comes into view. As he stumbles through the town gates, his stamina crashes completely. His limbs feel like lead, his breath ragged. His legs give out, and he drops onto a wooden bench near a well, utterly spent. Vorn chuckles from under the cloak. ¡°Progress comes at a cost. Rest, Thorin. You¡¯ve earned it.¡± As Thorin sits by the well, chest heaving and sweat dripping from his brow, he finally lets himself breathe. The strain of the run, the armor''s weight, and the constant spellcasting had pushed his limits, but the results were clear. System Notices: Throwing Skill +0.35 (25.50) Imbue Fire Skill +0.50 (1.25) Mana +1 (MP: 123) Strength +0.50 Stamina +1.50 Thorin swipes away the messages, then glances around. The town was larger than the hamlet, with stone and timber buildings, bustling merchants and townsfolk, and armed guards patrolling. He had barely taken it all in before his legs gave out, forcing him onto the well¡¯s stone ledge. He let out a slow exhale, feeling the exhaustion settle into his muscles. He was completely burned out, but the skill and stat gains were worth it. As he sat there, watching the people around him, a thought struck him. He hadn''t used Appraise in a while. It was one of his first skills, but since he could usually judge things on his own, he rarely relied on it. Still, no harm in using it now. He glanced at a passing merchant, focusing just enough for the skill to activate. [Merchant ¨C Level ???] A stout man with sharp eyes and a heavy coin pouch. His wares seem fairly priced. Huh. That was useful. He¡¯d forgotten how much quick information it could provide. He began appraising everything nearby, pushing through his exhaustion: [Street Guard ¨C Level ???] ¨C Moderately trained, equipment well-maintained. [Horse ¨C Level 4] ¨C Healthy but looks tired from travel. [Blacksmith¡¯s Sign] ¨C Iron-wrought, slightly rusted at the edges. [Fruit Vendor¡¯s Apples] ¨C Fresh, slightly overpriced. As he continued, another system notification popped up. System Notice: Appraisal Skill +0.40 (2.50) Thorin snorted. He hadn¡¯t used the skill in so long, and now it was gaining levels just from casual observation. "Guess I should use this more often," he muttered, rolling his shoulders before finally standing up. His legs still ached, but at least he could move again. Vorn shifted slightly under the cloak, sensing Thorin¡¯s readiness. ¡°Finally caught your breath?¡± the Wyrm muttered. Thorin stretched before adjusting his belt. ¡°Yeah. Let¡¯s find a bathhouse.¡± As Thorin stood up, he decided to push Appraise a little further. If it worked on objects, people, and animals, why not the entire town itself? He focused on his surroundings, letting the skill expand beyond individual targets. [Town Appraisal] [Oak hollow¨C Population: Approx. 3,500] Primary Trade: Blacksmithing, Agriculture, Mercantile Defenses: Town Guard (Moderate), Wooden Palisade (Well-Maintained), Watch Towers (4) Notable Locations: Grand Market Square ¨C The busiest part of town, filled with merchants and street vendors. The Iron Chain Smithy ¨C A reputable blacksmith shop known for durable weaponry and armor. The Gilded Tankard Inn ¨C Popular lodging, decent food, clean beds, slightly expensive. Town Hall ¨C Administrative center, where taxes, laws, and disputes are handled. Temple of the Twin Suns ¨C A place of worship for travelers and locals alike. Thorin¡¯s vision blurred for a moment as the sheer amount of information flooded in. System Notice: Appraisal Skill +1.00 (3.50) His eyes widened slightly as the skill jump registered. That was¡­ a lot. "That worked way better than I expected," he muttered, shaking his head. Vorn peeked out from under the cloak, sensing the change in Thorin¡¯s posture. ¡°What now?¡± the Wyrm asked lazily. Thorin cracked his neck, already feeling the benefit of his enhanced Appraisal. ¡°Now? We find a bathhouse, an Inn and get some real food.¡± Vorn huffed in approval. ¡°Finally. I was beginning to think you¡¯d never stop training.¡± With Vorn concealed beneath his cloak, Thorin pushed himself up from the well¡¯s edge and strode deeper into Oak hollow, the lingering ache in his legs a constant reminder of his hard push to reach the town. The streets were a mix of cobblestone sizes, worn smooth by the passage of countless feet and cartwheels. Wooden buildings with thatched or shingled roofs lined the roads, some boasting signs with painted symbols¡ªanvil for a smithy, tankard for a tavern, and a steaming basin for a bathhouse. "Bathhouse first," Thorin murmured, adjusting his cloak to make sure Vorn remained hidden. "Agreed," Vorn''s voice slithered through the fabric. "You smell like road dust, sweat, and sweaty burnt bacon." Thorin rolled his shoulders, feeling the weight of his new armor. The iron and leather sat heavier than his old gear, but the added protection was worth it. Finding the bathhouse was easy enough¡ªsteam curled lazily from vents along the side of the building, carrying the scent of heated water and herbal soap. A wooden sign overhead read "The Soothing Spring." Thorin stepped inside, scanning the entrance. The interior was warm, lit by lanterns and the glow of hot baths beyond the entryway. A middle-aged woman behind the counter looked up, eyeing his dust-covered form with mild amusement. "Five copper for a private soak, three for shared," she said. Thorin pulled the small coin pouch from his belt, fishing out the copper. ¡°Private.¡± The woman accepted the coins and gestured toward a side hallway. "Third door on the left. Towels and soap inside." As he entered the private chamber, he shut the door and immediately pulled off his cloak, giving Vorn some space. The wyrm stretched slightly, his scales shimmering faintly in the dim light. "Good. Now scrub yourself thoroughly. No point in coming all this way just to remain filthy," Vorn instructed. Thorin sighed but complied, stripping out of his armor and gear before sinking into the hot water. The heat worked wonders, easing the tension in his muscles. He could almost fall asleep right there. After a thorough scrubbing, he climbed out, dried off, and redressed in his freshened gear. With Vorn once again tucked beneath the cloak, they left the bathhouse and stepped back into the cool evening air. "Next stop?" Vorn inquired. Thorin adjusted his belt and smirked. "An inn. Then food, then sleep." Together, they moved into the heart of Oak hollow in search of a place to rest. Thorin Blackwood - Updated Status Race: Human Level: 6 (450 XP to next level) Health: 350 Mana: 102 / 102

Attributes:

Skills & Abilities:

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Equipment:

Status Effects: Henry Chapter 5 Henry. The black vortex spat him out with force, sending him tumbling across damp grass. Water pooled beneath him, a final remnant of whatever ocean he had just been yanked from. Henry rolled onto his stomach, reaching for his pistol as he stayed low, breathing softly, ears straining for any immediate threats. The surroundings were wrong. A moment ago, it had been night. The mission had been clear: infill, extract, exfil. Now, the sun was overhead, casting light on a landscape that did not belong. A wide, open field stretched ahead, broken only by patches of trees and scattered bushes. No coastline. No familiar markers. I''m not where I had been. This isn¡¯t anywhere that makes sense. There is no logical reason for the abrupt transition, but logic doesn¡¯t matter right now¡ªsurvival does. A sudden white filled his vision. [Welcome, Henry.] The words hung in the air, clear and absolute. His grip on his pistol tightened. [You have been registered. Initialization complete.] [System Notification] Trait: Student Adept, use old and new knowledge to combine and learn new skills with increased rate of growth. Trait: Awareness: All senses are heightened objects, and living beings are perceived regardless of direction of view. It''s sterile, mechanical not a hallucination. Asses what can be confirmed as fact, and work from there. Whatever happened, I''m now part of something unfamilar. And this isn¡¯t the first. That last part wasn¡¯t stated outright, but it was there, between the lines. Others had come before. Maybe not many, maybe not often¡ªbut it had happened. Two facts solidified in his mind: This is very far from where I had been, with no probable way back. This will take every skill, every lesson, and every ounce of training to secure an advantage. Slowly, methodically, I check my gear. It''s still there¡ªpistol, rifle, knives, rope, hook, ammo. Vest is soaked but intact, the ceramic plate a reassuring weight. The electronic tools likely would not be needed for their intended purpose. Wristwatch still ticked, but whether it meant anything in this place, can¡¯t be sure. First priority: survive. Second: stay hidden and gather intel. He exhaled slowly and began to move, staying low, scanning for the first place to disappear and observe. The game had changed. Now it was time to learn the rules. If the system had assigned me traits, then it stood to reason that it would recognize skills too. Which meant I need to start practicing anything that might trigger a skill award. Languages. That is an easy one. I know several fluently¡ªFrench, German, Russian, Chinese, Arabic, Latin. If I can confirm that the system acknowledges them, I¡¯d have an edge. Survival skills. Stealth, tracking, fieldcraft. I can use those naturally as I move. Combat techniques. Hand-to-hand, marksmanship, blade work. Practicing the movements may be a way to get the system to recognize them. Information gathering. Reading people, mapping terrain, recognizing social structures. That will take time, but it was crucial. Slowly exhaling, I watch the horizon. One step at a time. First, confirm what the system would grant me. Then, make a plan.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. Speaking softly in French. A few words, a short phrase. A white notification blinked into my vision. [Language Acquired: French. Polyglot Skill Gained.] Thought so, Polyglot this is going to be useful. He moved on, whispering in German. Another notification. [Language Acquired: German. Polyglot +1.] One by one, he repeated the process. Russian. Chinese. Arabic. Latin. Each time, the same result. [Language Acquired: Russian. Polyglot +1.] [Language Acquired: Chinese. Polyglot +1.] [Language Acquired: Arabic. Polyglot +1.] [Language Acquired: Latin. Polyglot +1.] I needed more skills. I examined my boots, running my fingers along each material, identifying them one by one. Leather, rubber, reinforced stitching, memory foam insole. A notification appeared. [Skill Learned: Appraise.] That confirmed my theory. The system rewarded knowledge and identification. I turned my focus to the pebbles and stones scattered around the depression, muttering the mineral compositions I could recognize. Granite, limestone, quartz. [Skill Learned: Identify Ore.] [Identify Ore +1.] I kept going, spotting subtle variations in stone texture, each one reinforcing the skill. [Identify Ore +1.] [Identify Ore +1.] Encouraged, I shifted my attention to the sparse plant life. Low shrubs, wild grasses, a few twisted saplings. I identified what I could¡ªedible roots, poisonous berries, medicinal herbs. [Skill Learned: Identify Plants.] [Identify Plants +1.] [Identify Plants +1.] A rustle drew my gaze to movement in the grass. A small animal¡ªsome kind of rodent¡ªscurried through the brush. I tracked its movements, noting its behavior, its escape routes. [Skill Learned: Tracking.] [Tracking +1.] [Tracking +1.] I sat in my bolt hole and considered my weapons. If the system was assigning skills for knowledge, maybe there was something to gain from my firearms. I started by removing my rounds, counting each one, and listing the component parts. A quarter of the way through, a notification flashed into my vision. [System Notification: Skill Received: Ordnance Specialist.] I continued the process. Halfway through, another skill up. Three-quarters, another. By the time I was done, I had gained three skill ups in total. Next, I disassembled my pistol and suppressor, softly naming each component and spring. The moment I reassembled it, another notification appeared. [Skill Received: Ballistics Specialist.] [Ballistics Specialist] +1 A second message followed almost immediately. [Weapon Bound: This suppressed firearm is now attuned to the user and will not function for any other.] I repeated the process with my rifle, receiving another skill up in Ballistics Specialist. When I finished, a final notification appeared. [Skill Received: RELOAD. Once per day, used ammo casings will respawn at midnight. Lost spent ammo will not be recovered.] As I''m contemplating what prior knowledge, I can shoehorn a skill out of, I notice several columns of smoke far in the distance clustered together. In that direction, a small deer grazes on the verdant grass. I decide it''s time to make my way toward people and grab some takeout on the way. I begin softly crouch-walking my way toward the deer, using bushes and tall grass to maintain cover. Halfway there, I get the system notification: [Skill Received: Sneak. Grants a small bonus to stealth. Increased damage while the target is unaware.] I get two skill-ups to Sneak by the time I get mostly there. When the deer looks my way, my pistol is already in hand. I fire, taking it in the head before it notices me, killing it instantly. [Ballistics Specialist +1.] Taking everything, I think I may need¡ªmeat, sinew, bone, antlers, guts¡ªI set off walking toward what looks to be a town from the clustered smoke plumes. Along the way, I am looking for a good camp spot near fresh water and appraising everything, changes in terrain, different species of trees, animal spore, and the density of the underbrush. Each observation sharpens my skills. [Identify Plants +1.] [Identify Ore +1.] [Tracking +1.] Finding a small stream flowing swiftly over a rocky bed through the woods, I make a campfire under the trees, cleaning and roasting the meat over the fire. While the meat slow-cooks, I gather thick saplings bent in a favorable way and sit down to carve a bow, using the sinew as a bowstring. [Skill Learned: Woodworking.] [Woodworking +1.] I craft bone-tipped arrows, plucking feathers from an unlucky passing bird after a quick shot and saved shell. [Woodworking +1.] As I work, I begin to reflect on the prior twenty-four hours, my mission, and career, I guess all of including myself has been overcome by events OBE. A Miner affair Chapter 6 A Miner affair The streets of Oakhollow bustled with early evening activity as Thorin strode through the marketplace, Vorn nestled unseen beneath his hooded cloak. The warm glow of lanterns flickered against timber-framed buildings, the scent of roasting meat and fresh bread filling the air. A good sign¡ªwhere there was food, there was an inn. "So, we''re looking for a place with a decent bed, a meal that won¡¯t poison you, and hopefully someone dumb enough to hire you," Vorn muttered. Thorin smirked. "You¡¯re awfully invested for someone who said I¡¯d be dead in a week." "Yeah, well, you''ve exceeded expectations. It¡¯s like watching a one-legged man at a butt kicking contest, no one knows why, and they can''t turn away." "I don''t get it..." "Of course, YOU don''t" Thorin kept his eyes peeled for a promising establishment. A wooden sign ahead creaked in the breeze, bearing an engraved ale mug and the words "The Stumble Inn." The sound of laughter and clinking tankards drifted from within. "Oh, I like this place already. The name suggests patrons with poor decision-making skills¡ªour kind of people." "Let¡¯s see if they have a room before you start planning to fleece drunks," Thorin muttered, pushing open the heavy oak door. Inside, the tavern was lively, a broad-shouldered barkeep was filling mugs behind the counter, a serving girl wove between tables with practiced ease, and a few patrons huddled in corners whispering over maps and contracts. Thorin¡¯s lips curled into a small grin. Thorin strode up to the bar, his boots scuffing against the well-worn floorboards, as he adjusted his cloak to keep Vorn hidden. The broad-shouldered barkeep, a middle-aged man, glanced his way before stepping over. "Ale," Thorin said, fishing out a few tin coins. "And a room with meals." The barkeep nodded, grabbing a wooden tankard and filling it from a cask behind him. "That''ll be 5 coppers for the room and board, 3 tin for the drink." Thorin slid the payment across the counter as the barkeep set the ale in front of him. "Careful, big guy, that¡¯s most of your fortune right there," Vorn whispered from beneath the cloak. Thorin said. ¡°What¡¯s on the menu?¡± "Stew, and bread, It¡¯s decent, not fancy. He took a long drink, letting the slight burn settle before speaking again. "Any work to be had in town? Something that pays." The barkeep wiped his hands on a rag. "If you''ve got a strong back, the blacksmith over on Hammer Lane has been looking for extra hands. Always needs help or low skill workers." He leaned against the counter, eyeing Thorin with curiosity. "Name''s Orlan, by the way. I run the Stumble Inn." Thorin set his mug down and gave a nod. "Thorin Blackwood." "Oh good, now you¡¯re on a first-name basis with the help," Vorn muttered. "Truly, you¡¯re moving up in the world." Thorin took another drink, ignoring him. He had a room, a meal, and a possible job lead. Not bad. Orlan soon returned, setting a steaming bowl of thick stew in front of Thorin, along with a hefty chunk of fresh bread. The rich aroma of slow-cooked meat, root vegetables, and herbs filled the air. "Here you go," Orlan said gruffly. "It''s not fancy, but it''ll keep you on your feet." Thorin gave a nod and dug in, tearing off a piece of bread to sop up the broth. The stew was hearty, well-seasoned, and exactly what he needed after the long day. As he scraped the last remnants from the bowl, Orlan placed another ale beside him. "On the house," the barkeep said with a smirk. "You look like you work hard enough to enjoy a second one." "See? The humans have already begun offering tribute," Vorn mused. "At this rate, you might actually pass for useful." Thorin just grunted, lifting the tankard for another long drink. As he set it down, a voice, smooth and teasing, cut through the tavern noise. "You drink like a man who¡¯s had a rough day." Thorin turned slightly as a young woman approached, the barmaid with auburn curls and bright green eyes. She leaned on the counter with a smile, her gaze flicking over him with open interest. "You could say that" Thorin replied. She smirked. "Then I¡¯d say you¡¯ve earned another drink¡­ but Orlan already beat me to it." Orlan snorted from behind the bar. "I don¡¯t pay you to flirt, Laina." Laina rolled her eyes. "And yet, here I am, doing it for free." She turned her attention back to Thorin, twirling a loose curl around her finger. "So, what brings a man like you to Oakhollow? Just passing through, or looking to stick around?" Thorin met her gaze, debating how much to say. "Oh, do tell her," Vorn whispered with amusement. "Maybe she¡¯ll be impressed by your unparalleled skill at pissing off squirrels." Thorin ignored him, giving Laina a half-smirk. "Depends. Might be work for me here." Laina leaned in slightly. "Well, if you do stick around, I wouldn¡¯t mind seeing more of you. Oakhollow¡¯s got a way of being a little¡­ dull." Her smile turned playful. "Might be nice to have a fresh face around." Thorin raised a brow. "That so?" "Oh, this is painful to watch," Vorn muttered. "You do know how to flirt back, don¡¯t you?" Laina chuckled, seemingly enjoying herself. "It is. And now, I suppose I should get back to work before Orlan starts grumbling again." She tapped the bar twice before sauntering off to tend to another table, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder before disappearing into the crowd. Thorin exhaled, shaking his head as he finished off his drink. "I¡¯m giving you a three out of ten," Vorn mused. "You didn¡¯t embarrass yourself completely, but let¡¯s be honest¡ªyou were as smooth as a corn cob." Thorin stretched his shoulders as he stood from the bar, rolling out the tension in his muscles. He tossed a glance toward Orlan. "Room key?" Orlan nodded, reaching under the counter for a simple iron key. "Top of the stairs, third door on the left. Try not to break the furniture." Thorin grunted in acknowledgment, taking the key and making his way upstairs. The room was modest and clean¡ªwooden floors, a sturdy bed with a thick woolen blanket, and a small washbasin. It was nothing fancy, but it would do. After locking the door, he shrugged off his cloak, letting Vorn settle onto the bed while he moved to the open space near the window. "Finally, privacy," Vorn muttered, stretching his serpentine body. "Now, what? Staring at the ceiling until morning?" Thorin ignored him. Instead, he dropped to the floor and began a regimented exercise routine¡ªpushups, sit-ups, sprinting in place, and dynamic stretches. He focused on controlled movements, pushing his limits to develop both strength and endurance. His muscles burned as he powered through set after set, his breathing deep and steady. Sweat formed on his brow, but he didn''t stop until his arms trembled slightly from the effort. After finishing his last sprint, he exhaled sharply, standing upright as a familiar rush of progression flooded through his body. Skill & Stat Gains: "Strength and stamina increased, Advanced Mobility improved." "You call that training?" Vorn snorted from the bed. "I¡¯ve seen hatchlings squirm harder than that." Thorin wiped sweat from his brow, smirking slightly. "Then maybe you should try it." Vorn flicked his tail dismissively. "I¡¯d rather nap." Thorin sat up on the bed, stretching his shoulders with a quiet pop. The last DHS attempt had been a windfall¡ªVorn was still smug about it. But if there were more abandoned hoards out there, they¡¯d be fools not to try again. ¡°We should take another dive,¡± Thorin said, glancing at Vorn. The young Wyrm lifted his head from where he had coiled on the bed. His slitted eyes gleamed with immediate greed. "Finally, you¡¯re speaking my language." With an eager nod, Vorn lifted his head, his body glowing faintly as he whispered the incantation. The space in front of them, twisted before unraveling into a green portal. Thorin moved quickly, tying one end of a sturdy rope to the bedpost¡ªwhich was nailed down securely¡ªand fastening the other to his spear. With a final pull to test the knot, he inhaled deeply and stepped forward, crossing into the tethered bubble. Inside, the whiteness outside the bubble stretched infinitely, a vast nothingness beyond its edges. The bubble itself was well-organized, with neat, orderly rows of stacked items¡ªcrates, chests, and expensive-looking materials lined up as if awaiting retrieval. "Quit navel-gazing and get to work!" Vorn¡¯s voice rang out from the other side. "We¡¯re here to loot, not admire the decor!" Thorin rolled his eyes but obeyed, gripping his spear. This time, he aimed directly beneath him, targeting what looked like a small speck. He threw the spear down. The weapon pierced through the bubble''s edge, its tip vanishing into the endless white void. Then he gently tugged the rope back, the speared bubble was slowly pulled into contact with Vorn¡¯s DHS bubble. The edges warped and folded until¡ªwith a quiet pop¡ªa circular opening formed between the two hoards. A new room-sized space had connected, and Thorin wasted no time climbing inside. He scanned the area quickly. Containers and expensive-looking materials filled the space¡ªcrates of unknown goods, boxes, and stacks of rare-looking metals. "Jackpot," Thorin muttered. He worked fast, grabbing anything that looked promising and tossing it back through the opening into Vorn¡¯s bubble. Inlaid chests. Stacks of polished ingots¡ªsome silver, some a shimmering violet metal he didn¡¯t recognize. Several crates, their contents unknown. Item after item flew through the opening as Thorin worked at a steady, efficient pace. Vorn¡¯s excited chuffing could be heard from the other side. "Yes, yes¡ªkeep it coming!" Thorin kept going until he had taken all he felt was worthwhile, then double-checked the space to make sure he wasn¡¯t missing something obvious. Finally, satisfied, he grabbed the rope and climbed back up, hauling himself out of both bubbles and landing back in his room. Vorn¡¯s eyes gleamed greedily. "Now that¡­ was a proper haul." Vorn¡¯s eyes glinted as he inspected the loot that Thorin had retrieved, his tail flicking with impatience. After a moment of grumbling, he spoke up in his clipped manner. "Alright, here''s what we''ve got, and what we should do with it. Listen up, because I¡¯m not repeating myself!" Vorn''s Loot Breakdown and Recommendations: Ornate Inlaid Chests Chest 1 (Luxury fabrics, trinkets, and wax seal set): "You¡¯re not selling this junk. But these silks? We can find a tailor in town. Maybe someone could use that seal too¡ªprobably someone fancy with too much time on their hands. You could always try haggling with it." Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.Chest 2 (Coins, ring, blue liquid): "The ring¡¯s decent. Get it appraised; maybe it¡¯s enchanted or worth a bit more. The bottle? No idea. It¡¯s better off in your hands than mine, but I''d say don''t drink it unless you''re feeling reckless." Crates of Goods Crate 1 (Exotic spices, herbs): "This might be worth some coin to someone who knows what to do with it. We¡¯re not chefs, so find a merchant or someone who makes potions. You¡¯d be surprised how much these things are worth to the right people." Crate 2 (Leather goods): "These could fetch a fair price. Or, if you¡¯re feeling crafty, try turning them into something more useful, like armor or bags. I know you¡¯re not exactly fashion forward, but you could give it a shot." Crate 3 (Crafting tools): "These could come in handy. I¡¯m sure there¡¯s a blacksmith in town who¡¯ll be thrilled to buy them or even trade for something more useful. Maybe you should have a word with him." Polished Ingots 10 Silver Ingots: "Nothing special. These are pretty standard. You can sell them off or melt them down for something more profitable." 4 Violet Ingots: "These are mine, obviously. Don¡¯t touch them. I¡¯ll get them properly looked at later¡ªthere¡¯s definitely something magical about these. Keep your hands off my treasures!" Gemstone Pouch (Pouch of assorted gems): "Look, these are low-grade gems, no real use for them unless you plan on making jewelry. They''re worth something if you sell them to the right buyer, but nothing too fancy. No need to hoard them, just get them out of your hands." Bronze Scroll Case (Locked): "Open it later, if you want, but you¡¯re not keeping it. That lock doesn¡¯t look like it¡¯s for amateurs. If you can¡¯t open it, then maybe a locksmith can. I¡¯d be more concerned about what¡¯s inside." Wooden Boxes (Map and wax): Box 1 (Candles and oils): "Keep this if you want. Or use it to bribe someone who smells bad. Not that you¡¯re any fragrance expert, but it could be useful." Box 2 (Map): "Now, this is interesting. I¡¯ve had enough of wandering aimlessly. Find someone who can read it, and see if it leads to anything important. If it¡¯s another treasure map or a quest, then we¡¯re in business." Other Notes "The second bubble drifted away again. We¡¯ve lost it, for now." Vorn shrugged. "It wasn¡¯t exactly a permanent tether, so don¡¯t worry about it. But be mindful¡ªnext time, we might get a bigger haul." "And don¡¯t forget," Vorn added with a smirk, "We¡¯ve still got that job to do in Oakhollow. You better not waste time with this!" Strength increased to 31.20 Stamina increased to 33.20 Advanced Mobility increased to 36 After securing their newly gained goods, Vorn greedily tucked away his precious violet ingots, hissing at Thorin when he so much as glanced at them. With the haul safely stored within the DHS, they both settled in for the night. Morning Routine Thorin woke early, stretching out the stiffness from the previous night''s exertions. The inn¡¯s morning air smelled of fresh bread and roasting meat, drawing him downstairs. Vorn, still concealed under the hood, muttered irritably about the hour. Over breakfast¡ªthick porridge, bread with honey, and a slab of ham¡ªThorin mentally planned out the day. He needed skill gains, and manual labor at the forge would offer just that. The Blacksmith¡¯s Forge The forge was already hot when they arrived. The blacksmith, a burly man named Garrek, wasted no time putting Thorin to work. Hammering heated metal strengthened his arms and endurance. Carrying heavy ore crates taxed his stamina and mobility. Shaping basic fittings improved his dexterity. The heat and precise work developed his overall strength. Crafting Job Learned: Smithing Gathering Job Skill Learned: Identify Ore The work was repetitive but rewarding. Sweat poured off Thorin as he spent hours at the anvil, hammering, lifting, and refining raw metal into usable forms. After a full shift, Garrek grunted approval and tossed him a few copper coins¡ªnot much, but the real gain was increased stats, skills, and a job. [System Notification] Detected Inspect subcategory skill Identify Ore, adding to Inspect. Adjusting skill level to (7) Skill & Stat Gains: Strength: +.10 (Now 31.30) Dexterity: +1 (Now 28.85) Stamina: +.10 (Now 33.30) Advanced Mobility: +.50 (Now 36.50) As they left the forge, Vorn smirked. ¡°You look like you got kicked by a mule.¡± Thorin wiped the sweat from his brow and rolled his shoulders. ¡°Yeah, but I¡¯m stronger for it. Besides, I actually earned something today.¡± Vorn gave a mocking chuckle. ¡°Oh yes, a grand fortune. What will you buy first? A half-eaten loaf of bread?¡± Thorin shook his head with a wry grin, feeling the steady progress in his body. Now, it was time to decide their next move. Thorin pushed open the inn¡¯s door, stepping inside with the crate balanced against his hip. The rich aroma of spices and dried herbs wafted into the air as he set it down on the counter. Orlan, the innkeeper, leaned forward, nostrils flaring as he took in the scents. ¡°Damn,¡± Orlan muttered, lifting the lid. ¡°This is good stuff.¡± He picked up a pinch of something green and rubbed it between his fingers. ¡°Sage, thyme¡­ even saffron? Where in the hells did you get this?¡± ¡°Let¡¯s just say it fell into my lap,¡± Thorin replied vaguely, folding his arms. ¡°Figure your cook could make use of it.¡± Orlan let out a low whistle. ¡°That she could. Problem is, I don¡¯t have the coin to buy it outright. But I¡¯ll make you an offer¡ªmonth of room and board, plus a little coin on top.¡± Thorin considered it for a moment. A solid deal. He wouldn¡¯t have to worry about lodging for a while, and the extra copper didn¡¯t hurt either. ¡°Done.¡± They shook on it, and Orlan slid five coppers across the counter before calling for the cook. As the crate was hauled away, the innkeeper smirked. ¡°You¡¯ve got good instincts, Blackwood. Better food means better business, and better business means I can afford to restock this kind of stuff in the future.¡± ¡°Glad to help. Now, I¡¯ve got some work to do.¡± Thorin stood in an open clearing just outside town, rolling his shoulders as he planted his feet firmly in the dirt. Vorn, still hidden beneath the cloak, let out an exaggerated yawn. "Oh great, another round of ¡®watch the big idiot stab the air.¡¯ My favorite pastime." ¡°Keep talking, I¡¯ll start practicing throws instead.¡± "You wound me," Vorn deadpanned. "Oh wait, you¡¯d actually have to land a hit first." Ignoring him, Thorin set to work. He moved through spear thrusts, sweeps, parries, and spinning maneuvers, honing his footwork alongside each strike. The weapon became an extension of his body, his muscles remembering movements faster than his mind. Then came the fire. He focused, summoning the heat deep in his core, willing it into the blade. A flickering orange glow traveled down the spear''s length, licking at the air. Every movement left behind a faint, smoldering trail. He kept the imbued flame active through slashes and thrusts, pushing his stamina and focus to maintain control. "Not bad," Vorn admitted begrudgingly. "At least you¡¯re slightly less pathetic now." ¡°Glad to have your approval.¡± Between sets, he pulled out his Appraisal skill¡ªfocusing on everything in sight. Rocks, trees, even an old, rusted horseshoe he found half-buried in the dirt. Then he turned his attention to the loot they pulled from the last hoard dive. One by one, he identified each chest, crate, and item. After using Appraisal on each individual item, Thorin gained the following details: Chest 1 ¨C Luxury Fabrics & Trinkets Silken Garments (Good Quality) ¨C Soft, embroidered robes and tunics, likely from a merchant''s wardrobe. Velvet & Satin Rolls ¨C Uncut bolts of fine fabric, deep reds, blues, and purples. Could be worth decent coin to a tailor. Silver Hairpins & Brooches ¨C Delicate, decorative, and set with small gemstones. Wax Seal Set (Unmarked) ¨C A silver seal stamp with four sticks of high-grade sealing wax (red, blue, black, and gold). The seal itself is blank, ready to be carved. Chest 2 ¨C Coins, Ring, & Blue Liquid Coins: A mix of silver and copper, totaling 6 Silver, 14 Copper in value. Silver Ring (Enchanted, Minor Protection) ¨C A simple band, but reinforced with minor defensive magic. It slightly dampens incoming damage. Vial of Azure Essence (Unstable) ¨C Magical alchemical solution. Unknown effects, but it pulses with latent mana. Could be useful for crafting or spell enhancement. Crate 2 ¨C Leather Goods Tanned Leather Rolls (Good Quality) ¨C Smooth and durable, excellent for armor, boots, or bags. Finished Leather Gloves (Reinforced Palms) ¨C Sturdy work gloves, likely for smithing or crafting. Aged Leather Satchel (Hidden Pockets) ¨C A well-crafted shoulder bag with concealed compartments sewn inside. Crate 3 ¨C Crafting Tools Precision Carving Kit (Engraving & Jewelry Work) ¨C Tools designed for fine detail work, including etching and gemstone setting. Blacksmith¡¯s Hammers & Tongs (Well-Worn but Serviceable) ¨C Standard forging tools, showing use but still in good condition. Miner''s Pick and Shovel (Good Quality) ¨C Would be highly valued by a Miner. "Not bad, not bad. The silver ring is mine, obviously. The magic is faint, but still better suited for my hoard, I¡¯ll graciously hold the coins for you¡­ for now. As for that blue liquid? Well, if you grow an extra limb after handling it, don¡¯t come crying to me." ¡°I¡¯ll be sure to test that blue liquid on you first.¡± "Oh, now you¡¯re getting creative. I¡¯m so proud." Inspect has increased to 7.50, Dexterity to 28.85, Agility to 29, Imbue Fire to 3.75, Advanced Mobility to 36.75, Spear to 6.00 After hours of training, Thorin¡¯s muscles burned, his limbs ached, and his stomach growled. There was no way in hell he was walking back into the inn covered in soot and sweat. At the bathhouse, he scrubbed away the grime of the day while Vorn made sarcastic commentary from his hiding spot. "It¡¯s a miracle, the beast learns hygiene." Back at the inn, the meal was noticeably better. The cook had already put the spices to use, and the stew actually had flavor this time. As Thorin dug in, Orlan gave him a knowing look. ¡°Told you it¡¯d be a good trade,¡± the innkeeper said, leaning on the counter. ¡°This is just the start.¡± Thorin just nodded, focused on his food. One month of room and board secured. Another day of training done. As the morning sun stretched across the horizon, Thorin left the inn and made his way into the countryside, intent on testing his new Identify Ore skill. He scanned the rocky terrain, occasionally pausing to inspect stones along the path. After several attempts, his skill triggered on a shiny, embedded mineral. "Looks like tin," he muttered, tightening his grip on the miner''s pick. He donned his leather gloves, braced himself, and struck the stone. A few solid swings later, a small chunk of tin ore broke free. [Acquired Tin Ore] [New Gathering Job Acquired: Miner] "Well, look at that! Congratulations, pebble-puncher," Vorn quipped from under Thorin¡¯s hood. Ignoring the wyrm''s commentary, Thorin pressed on, following the terrain for more deposits. His patience paid off when he came across a small bedrock mound, rich with the same shiny metal. He ran his hands along the exposed ore vein, nodding in satisfaction. "Now we''re talking." Thorin adjusted his grip on the miner¡¯s pick and struck the vein with steady, measured swings. Each impact sent vibrations up his arms, but he powered through, chipping away at the bedrock and exposing more of the tin ore. The rhythmic clang of metal on stone echoed through the countryside as he worked. "At this rate, you''ll have a proper hole to live in, like the filthy pebble-puncher you are," Vorn remarked dryly. Thorin grunted, wiping sweat from his brow. ¡°Least I¡¯ll have resources. You want a hoard or not?¡± Vorn gave a slow, exaggerated nod. "Fair point. Mine faster, then." As Thorin continued mining, the tin vein led deeper into the bedrock mound. He followed it, breaking through layers of rock and unearthing larger chunks of ore. Each successful extraction solidified his skill, making the process smoother. The deeper he went, the richer the vein seemed. ¡°This could be a decent haul,¡± he muttered, tossing another tin chunk into his growing pile. "Oh yes, a mighty hoard of¡­ base metal," Vorn said with mock reverence. "Truly, we are destined for greatness." Thorin smirked and kept mining. Thorin steadied himself as he continued his work, DHS active to throw the waste granite stones, and the ores into. He¡¯d carved a steep shaft¡ªnow 4 feet down along the vein¡ªeach precise swing of his miner''s pick echoing in the confined space. "Not too shabby, for a roughneck," Vorn quipped from his hidden perch, the familiar edge in his voice laced with reluctant approval. Thorin paused to wipe the sweat from his brow and took a quick mental inventory. "Mining is up by 2 points, and my Inspects skill jumped by 3.20 points. He adjusted his grip on the pick, feeling the improvements in his skill with each strike along the tin vein. The surrounding rock firm in place, allowing him to focus solely on his task. With each careful, controlled hit, Thorin made steady progress down the steep shaft, his determination as unyielding as the rock itself. Thorin''s pick rang out steadily as he chipped away another four feet into the bedrock. The familiar tin vein soon veered sharply to the right, its course turning to a shallower descent. As he followed this new angle, his keen eye¡ªenhanced by his improved Identify Ore skill¡ªspotted something different: a glimmer of dark, metallic Wolframite intermingled with patches of copper embedded in the stone. "Looks like the vein''s got company now," Thorin murmured to himself, carefully swinging his pick. The combination of minerals hinted at a richer deposit. For another four feet, he worked diligently along this branching path, extracting chunks of Tin, Wolframite, and copper ore, each hit a rhythmic echo in the still underground chamber. As the sky above began to darken with the late afternoon, Thorin decided it was time to call it a day. He packed up his newly gathered ores and started his ascent back to the surface. On the winding road back to town, as the last light of day faded, Thorin adjusted his grip on his pack. Vorn, coiled lazily on Thorin¡¯s shoulder, broke the silence. "Not bad for a day''s work, eh? You¡¯ve really dug deep today." Vorn said with his characteristic sardonic tone. Thorin smiled, rubbing his calloused hands together. "Yeah, the ore identification''s sharper now figured out deposits I¡¯d never have noticed before. And I¡¯m feeling it in my muscles, too." Vorn raised an eyebrow. "You mean aside from your usual brawn? How much of a difference are we talking about?" "Not much, maybe a tenth of a point," Thorin replied, checking his internal logs. "Strength''s up by 0.20, Stamina by 0.20, and even my Dexterity got a little boost¡ªanother 0.20. It¡¯s incremental, but it¡¯s progress." Vorn snorted lightly. "Tiny gains, but at least you''re not just flailing around. Every little bit counts if you¡¯re planning on turning into something more than a glorified mount." "Exactly," Thorin agreed, today proved there''s more than tin in these rocks¡ªand a bit of hard work always pays off." With the conversation winding down, Thorin quickened his pace toward the town, the promise of a warm bath and a hearty meal at the inn spurring him on as the last rays of sunlight faded into the evening. End of Chapter Stats ¨C Thorin Blackwood Level: 6 (50/500 XP) Coin: 6 Silver, 26 Copper, 5 Tin Stats: Constitution: 9.25 (462Health) Strength: 31.40 Dexterity: 30.05 Agility: 29 Stamina: 33.40 Mana (MP): 233 Intelligence: 5.10 Skills & Abilities: Inspect: 22 Imbue Fire: 4.25 Cure Minor Wounds: 2 Mining: 10 Advanced Mobility: 36.75 Armor Piercing: 2.80 Throwing Skill: 30.15 Spear Combat: 6.50 Appraisal: 4.50 Polyglot: 2 Gathered Materials: Tin Ore: 48 Copper Ore: 16 Wolframite Ore: 16 Chapter 7 Veni, Vidi, Aedificavi Chapter 7 Veni, Vidi, Aedificavi As Thorin wandered through the bustling market, he casually activated Inspect on the people around him. The range of different levels and faces sparked his curiosity. Level 6¡­ Level 5¡­ Level 8¡­ Level 7¡­ Thorin continued scanning. The merchant selling dried herbs¡ªLevel 6. A pair of guards chatting near the stalls¡ªLevel 7 and Level 8. Even the burly blacksmith, hammering away at his forge, was only Level 9. A slight hum buzzed at the back of Thorin''s mind as the Inspect skill processed the details. He noticed the strain of scanning more individuals, as the skill stretched his attention span further. His mind sharpened as his understanding of people, things, and situations increased. Inspect Skill +0.50 ¡°Seems like no one here gets past Level 9,¡± Thorin muttered. Vorn, nestled comfortably beneath Thorin''s cloak, spoke up with a venomous drawl. ¡°Not surprising, is it? Most mortals get stuck at 10. The experience curve¡¯s too steep after that.¡± Vorn let out a mocking chuckle. ¡°I thought you¡¯d figure that out yourself, human.¡± Thorin frowned, ignoring the jibe. ¡°So, they can¡¯t level past 10?¡± Vorn sighed heavily. ¡°No. It''s too difficult. People often group up in large numbers¡ªhundreds of soldiers¡ªbut none of them gain much XP individually. Those who manage to go beyond 10 do so at such a crawl, it''s not worth the effort. They can''t outpace age.¡± Thorin felt a small mental shift again as he inspected another passerby¡ªa group of children chasing each other. The strain on his mind was noticeable but manageable. Inspect Skill +0.25 ¡°So basically,¡± Thorin grinned, ¡°the world¡¯s full of capped people.¡± ¡°Pretty much,¡± Thorin nodded to himself, contemplating how he was rapidly approaching a level of power that would set him apart from everyone around him. Inspect Skill: 21.00 As Thorin walked through the market, the weight of Vorn¡¯s words settled in. Most people never made it past level 10. Even the strongest fighters in town were still stuck at single-digit levels. And here he was, pushing forward, getting stronger by the day. He clenched his fists, feeling the raw power in his muscles. 31 Strength. 33 Stamina. The numbers weren¡¯t just numbers¡ªthey were real, tangible. He could feel it every time he lifted something heavy, every time he struck with his spear, every time he kept moving while others would have faltered. So, what am I going to do with all of this? Thorin had been so focused on surviving, on getting stronger, that he hadn¡¯t truly considered what came next. Did he want to keep mining and smithing until he was a master craftsman? Did he want to seek out stronger foes and push himself to his limits? Or was there something bigger out there¡ªsomething more than just grinding for strength? Vorn, as if sensing his thoughts, gave a low chuckle. "Don''t go getting all philosophical on me, human. Your kind isn''t exactly known for long-term thinking." Thorin smirked but didn''t respond. He just kept walking, lost in thought. For the first time since arriving in this world, he wasn¡¯t just reacting. He was starting to think about what he wanted¡ªnot just what he needed to do to survive. Thorin stopped mid-step as the realization hit him. His Auto Regen Trait. It had always been there, working in the background, sealing wounds, mending bruises, keeping him in peak condition. But he had never truly thought about what that meant in the long run. He wouldn¡¯t age. Scars, wrinkles, cataracts¡ªnone of it would ever stick. Even if he lived for a hundred years, his body would always restore itself to its original state. Time would pass, but it wouldn¡¯t leave its mark on him. Most people in this world had to fight against time itself. Even those who leveled high did so at a crawl, struggling against the slow grind before their bodies inevitably gave out. But Thorin? He had all the time in the world. Vorn noticed him stopping and groaned. "What now? Having another one of your little existential crises?" Thorin shook his head, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Not exactly. Just realized... I¡¯ve got more time than anyone else." The wyrm narrowed his eyes. "And what, exactly, do you plan to do with that time?" Thorin didn''t answer right away. Because for the first time, he wasn''t just thinking about the next fight, the next skill-up, the next meal. For the first time, he was thinking about the kind of legend he could become. Vorn let out a snort, his voice thick with sarcasm. "Oh, I see where this is going. Let me guess¡ªyou''re going to start some grand organization? Train people up, give ¡®em structure, teach ¡®em how to level faster? Lead it for centuries so it just keeps going? Like some sort of¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­ pyramid of humans seeking adventure?" Thorin rolled his eyes. "That¡¯s not what I¡ª" "No, no, I can see it now," Vorn interrupted, his tone exaggerated. "You¡¯ll be at the top, all wise and immortal, guiding generations of wide-eyed hopefuls as they scramble over each other to get stronger. Maybe you even slap your ugly mug on a banner. ¡®Blackwood¡¯s Brotherhood of Betterment¡¯¡ªno, wait! ¡®The Everlasting Order of Thorin¡¯s Teachings!¡¯ Has a nice cult-y ring to it, don¡¯t you think?" Thorin frowned, rubbing his chin as he mulled it over. "Not like that¡­ more like a union. Or a guild for adventurers." Vorn went silent for a beat before letting out a barking laugh. "Oh, that¡¯s rich. You? A guild master? Going to start taking dues? Hand out quests? Maybe throw a big feast every year for your loyal little underlings?" "Think about it. Most people don¡¯t make it past level 10 because they don¡¯t have the structure or the know-how to level efficiently. But if there was an Adventurer¡¯s Guild¡ªsomewhere people could train, learn, get proper gear and tactics¡ªmaybe they could break past that wall. Actually, stand a chance at getting stronger." If I can level faster than most and I have time to figure things out, why not use that knowledge? Why not make something that lasts?" "Tch. You really think you can make something like that work?" Vorn finally muttered. Thorin¡¯s smirk faded into something more resolute. "And those that get stronger will help protect the weak¡ªto run in where all others flee." Vorn was silent for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice lacked its usual biting sarcasm. "That¡¯s a nice thought, Blackwood. Real noble." Then, with a sharp snort, his tone returned to normal. "Also, a great way to get yourself killed leading a bunch of reckless idiots into danger." Thorin chuckled. "Maybe. But if even a handful get strong enough to do the same for others, it''s worth it." Vorn grumbled something under his breath but didn¡¯t argue further. That, more than anything, told Thorin he was on to something. Thorin shrugged. "Doesn''t matter how strong I get if I can¡¯t make or maintain my own gear. Besides, if I start smithing now, I¡¯ll have a head start on something that¡¯ll actually be useful long-term." Vorn huffed. "Fine, fine. But you¡¯re doing all the heavy lifting. I¡¯ll supervise." Thorin rolled his eyes and adjusted his gear. "Then let''s get to it." With that, he set off toward the mine, already considering the materials he''d need to build a crude forge and get started on smelting his first ingots. As they walked through the bustling market, Thorin kept an eye out for a blacksmith¡¯s stall. It didn¡¯t take long to find one¡ªan older man with arms like tree trunks stood behind a sturdy wooden counter, arranging tools and supplies for sale. Thorin stepped up and gestured to a few items. "I¡¯ll take a basic crucible, a pair of tongs, and some coke." The smith raised an eyebrow. "You smelt something, lad?" Thorin nodded. "Got some ore I want to process." The smith grunted in approval and set the items down. "That¡¯ll be 4 coppers." Thorin counted out the coins and passed them over. As he collected his supplies, the smith gave him an appraising look. "If you¡¯ve got ore to smelt, you¡¯ll be needing a proper forge. You setting one up?" Thorin smirked. "That¡¯s the plan." The smith chuckled. "Good luck with that. Isn¡¯t easy work, but if you stick with it, you¡¯ll learn plenty." With that, Thorin gave a nod of thanks and turned away, tucking the supplies into his pack. Vorn, nestled beneath his cloak, let out a low snicker. "Oh yes, we¡¯re truly living the high life now. Buying rocks to burn and fancy cups to melt metal in. You¡¯re just dripping with prestige." Thorin rolled his shoulders, ignoring the jab. "You¡¯ll be singing a different tune once we start pulling ingots out of the ground." Vorn huffed. "Doubtful." With their supplies secured, they left the town behind, heading back toward the mine Thorin had dug, ready to set up the foundation for his forge. As Thorin worked, sweat beaded on his brow, but he pushed forward, his muscles straining with each swing of the pickaxe. He cut into the side of the bedrock mound, carving out a flat surface. The walls at the back and sides were shaped carefully, leaving just enough space to stack cut stones for the forge''s structure. Loose dirt from his mining efforts was piled up around all but the front, acting as insulation to trap heat. It was rough, crude, but functional. Vorn muttered from beneath the cloak. "You know, this is dangerously close to actual civilization. You¡¯re building things, creating infrastructure¡ªwhat¡¯s next? A quaint little village?" Thorin ignored him, gathering wood and kindling to start a fire at the bottom of the forge. He pulled a few stones from his pack¡ªeach imbued with Imbue Fire¡ªand tossed them into the flames, increasing the heat. With the fire burning hot, he fed in some of the coke he had purchased. The air shimmered from the growing intensity of the heat. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Satisfied with the temperature, he started adding raw tin ore. The metal darkened, then turned molten, bubbling as impurities burned away. He used the tongs to manipulate the ore, letting the heat purify it before carefully pouring the liquid metal into a shallow depression in a stone slab he had found. The metal cooled and hardened, forming a crude but serviceable tin ingot. [New Skill Acquired: Stone Crafting] [Stone Crafting +3] Thorin exhaled sharply, feeling the rush of a new skill settling into his mind. That was unexpected but welcome. He continued working, smelting each ore in turn. With every batch, his movements became more refined. His control over the fire improved, his understanding of temperature shifts sharpened. He took note of how different metals reacted, tin flowed easily, copper took longer to purify, and wolframite was a stubborn metal that required prolonged exposure to intense heat. [Smith Increased] +2 [Mining +2] [Inspect +1] [Stone Crafting +1] Vorn let out an exaggerated yawn. "Oh yes, watching molten rock dribble into holes. Riveting." Thorin smirked, holding up a solid tin ingot. "This molten rock turns into something useful. Unlike you." "Tch. That ingot is still worth less than me." Thorin chuckled, setting the finished ingot aside. He had turned every bit of ore into metal, his forge blazing hot and his skills sharper than before. This was just the beginning. Thorin leaned back against the rock, rolling his shoulders as he watched the fire in the forge slowly die down. His body was tired from the work, but his mind was racing. "Vorn," he said, breaking the quiet, "with all the races in this world¡ªelves, humans, dwarves, and whatever else¡ªwhy hasn¡¯t anyone built something lasting? A guild, an academy, something that actually sticks?" Vorn let out a dry chuckle, lounging lazily nearby. "Oh, they have," he said. "Plenty of times. But it never lasts more than a few generations, if that, even the elves. People get old. They slow down, lose their drive, die. And once the founder¡¯s gone, the whole thing crumbles. Short-lived species barely have time to get something big going before time yanks it all away." Thorin exhaled through his nose, thinking that over. "But that¡¯s just it," he said, looking down at his hands. "I¡¯m not like them. I heal. My body resets itself, no scars, no wrinkles. I don¡¯t think I age. That means I don¡¯t have the same limit holding me back." "So, what? You think just because you¡¯ve got more time, that¡¯ll make a difference?" Thorin smirked. "Time¡¯s the biggest difference. Everyone else starts building too late, and by the time they figure things out, they¡¯re running out of years. But me? I can start now. I can put in the time to make something strong, something that will last" "You¡¯re talking about spending centuries on this, human. You actually prepared for that kind of grind?" Thorin¡¯s smirk didn¡¯t fade. "Doesn¡¯t sound any worse than swinging a pick all day." Vorn huffed, just don¡¯t start talking about ruling an empire next." Thorin laughed. "Nah. I¡¯m thinking more along the lines of a guild. An Adventurer¡¯s Guild." "Here we go¡­" Thorin Asked, "Vorn do you know about runes, how to power them?" Vorn shifted in place, tail flicking slightly as he considered Thorin¡¯s question. ¡°Runes, huh? You¡¯ve been thinking about this for a while, haven¡¯t you? It¡¯s not an easy thing to learn, especially when it comes to imbuing them with power. But I¡¯ve seen a few things over the years. Runes can be quite potent if you know how to carve them properly, but it¡¯s more than just scribbling symbols on something.¡± He paused for a moment, flicking his gaze toward Thorin. "You¡¯ve got the right idea with crystals. You can carve runes into things and fill them with power¡ªlike charging them. That¡¯s how you get them to do what you want. Fire, light, or even something more complex, if you¡¯re good enough. But crystals... they¡¯re a conduit. You carve the rune shape, but it¡¯s the right crystal or material that channels the energy into the rune.¡± Vorn leaned back, crossing his arms thoughtfully. ¡°As for the shapes themselves? You need to know the fundamental meaning behind them. A rune for fire will usually have sharp edges, like flames. Water might have curving lines that represent flow. Earth will be more geometric, something stable. And then there are hybrid ones, like combining fire and earth for something like molten lava... that¡¯s where it gets tricky.¡± He shifted again, clearly pondering Thorin¡¯s question in more depth. ¡°And about imbuing with fire? That¡¯s easier than most things. You need to focus the energy through the rune, like drawing the flame into the design. Crystals work by capturing the energy in their structure, but fire needs focus¡ªso, an ¡®imbue fire¡¯ rune would have an inward spiral at its center. You carve the spiral, fill it with crystal, and then focus the flame into it to make it activate. The fire charges the rune, and once it¡¯s full, the rune can release the energy when triggered.¡± Vorn looked at Thorin, raising an eyebrow. ¡°But that¡¯s the theory. Actually, getting it to work... that¡¯s up to you, mortal. And don¡¯t expect it to be a one-off. Runes need practice, a lot of it. There¡¯s also the matter of what you carve the rune on. Some materials are better than others at holding energy, but they can¡¯t always handle too much power.¡± He grinned slyly. ¡°Sounds like you¡¯ve got a lot of work ahead of you. Not that I mind. More loot if you get it right.¡± Thorin gritted his teeth in concentration, carefully carving lines and shapes into the tin ingot, using the leftover crystals to experiment with the theories Vorn had mentioned. He tried spiral patterns, curved edges, and geometric shapes, his brow furrowed with focus as he muttered under his breath about fire, power, and direction. Each attempt seemed to fail in some way. Some ran too deep; some were too shallow. Others, the energy he tried to imbue just didn¡¯t stick. The failures piled up in frustration, and Vorn''s laughter echoed in his ears, teasing him after each misstep. "Not even close, Thorin!" Vorn would snicker after every failed attempt, his voice filled with mock amusement. "You''re going to need more than just a couple of failures to get this right." But Thorin wasn¡¯t one to quit easily. He kept at it, determined to prove that he could make something work. His hands grew tired, but he refused to stop. Finally, after what seemed like hours of trial and error, one of his runes sparked faintly as he finished carving a spiral into the tin, adding a sliver of crystal at the center. A faint glow flickered for just a moment. [System Notification] You have learned Rune Crafting. [System Notification] Smithing, Woodworking, Stone Crafting, and Rune Crafting are sub-categories of Crafting, combining subcategories into: Crafting Crafting skill is now 7 The rush of accomplishment hit Thorin immediately, though the glow quickly faded. His eyes widened slightly at the message. The rune itself didn¡¯t produce fire or anything spectacular, but it had worked. The lines had come together just enough to form a functional, if barely-there, result. Before he could bask in the moment, he heard Vorn¡¯s voice, loud and incredulous. ¡°Oh, COME ON!!¡± Vorn exclaimed, tail swishing in frustration. ¡°Really? After all that? You actually did it!? This fast?! You were bungling it a second ago, and now... you¡¯ve got it?¡± Thorin gave a smug grin, despite his fatigue. ¡°Seems like I did, didn¡¯t I?¡± Vorn grumbled, his tail flicking sharply. ¡°I told you it¡¯d take years to get it down right... Now you¡¯ve gone and messed with the natural order of things. Whatever. Just don''t come crying to me when it burns your hands off.¡± Thorin chuckled, inspecting the faintly glowing rune on the tin. He was already thinking about the next step, about what he could make with this newfound skill. ¡°I think I''ll be fine, Vorn. I¡¯m not going to stop just because it wasn¡¯t a perfect result.¡± Vorn grunted, still shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah, just don¡¯t set anything important on fire. That¡¯s all I ask." Over the next four days, Thorin and Vorn fell into a comfortable rhythm. The mornings were spent out in the countryside, Thorin carefully mining veins of ore and iron that he''d uncovered the day before. Each day, his skill improved, and the veins seemed to yield more as he pushed deeper into the stone. Thorin¡¯s hands became more adept with the pickaxe, his movements smoother and more confident. Every swing seemed to land in the right place, gathering ores with increasing efficiency. As he mined, Vorn often hovered nearby, occasionally making sarcastic remarks or grumbling about Thorin''s "easy progress," but he kept his distance, unwilling to help directly. "You can¡¯t just make it easy for me, huh?" Thorin would joke back as he cracked open another vein, gathering the minerals from deep within the earth. [System Notification] Mining skill has increased After each successful mining session, Thorin would haul his gathered ores back to the makeshift forge near the mine. There, he would set up the furnace with care, feeding it wood, stones imbued with fire, and the hard-to-find coke, and he would spend the afternoon smelting. The heat of the fire made the air around them shimmer, and the ores would begin to melt down, impurities burning away as Thorin meticulously poured the molten metals into stone depressions. Every time he worked the forge, he could feel his crafting skills growing. He watched as his Ingots took shape¡ªtin, copper, iron¡ªand a steady stream of notifications kept telling him that his skills were improving. [System Notification] Crafting skill has increased Crafting skill has increased But it wasn¡¯t just smelting and smithing. As soon as the day¡¯s work with ores was done, Thorin would turn his focus to rune crafting. Sitting with his engraving tools in hand, Thorin took his time carving into the metal and experimenting with the leftover crystals. He had learned more from his previous successes and was beginning to recognize the nuances in rune shapes and their properties. Some failed. Some barely worked. But each attempt brought a surge of insight, and he could feel his crafting skill rise steadily, his Intelligence growing with each focused effort. [System Notification] Crafting skill has increased. Intelligence has increased. Every evening after their long days of labor, Thorin and Vorn would return to the Inn to clean up, eat, and rest. Thorin would sit with a tankard of ale in hand, reflecting on his progress. Vorn, though mostly indifferent to the routine, would occasionally remark on the seeming lack of challenge in Thorin''s day-to-day. ¡°Why not take a break, Thorin?¡± Vorn would taunt. ¡°It¡¯s like you¡¯re trying to prove something.¡± Thorin would chuckle and shrug. "I''m just getting started. A break would only slow me down." They¡¯d spend the evening talking and strategizing, but mostly it was routine. Eat. Rest. Repeat. Each day felt like a small step forward. Thorin''s muscles ached less with each mining session. His arms and hands grew stronger, his focus sharper. He knew that his hard work would start paying off soon in ways beyond just levels and skills. By the end of the four days, Thorin could already tell how much progress he had made. The metal ingots were stacking up, his skills had risen significantly, and the runes, though imperfect, were beginning to show promise. There was something else too¡ªsomething deep down in Thorin¡¯s mind. He knew his vision of building a Guild, a lasting structure, was slowly becoming less of a pipe dream and more of a potential reality. And it was all starting with these small, daily improvements. 8. Bellum 8. Bellum The afternoon air was brisk as Thorin stretched, rolling his shoulders before pulling on his cloak. He cast a glance at Vorn, who was curled up on a pile of tin ingots near the forge, the wyrm¡¯s tail lazily flicking in his sleep. The mine had taken on a cave-like atmosphere, and Vorn had become strangely attached to it. ¡°You¡¯re not coming?¡± Thorin asked. Vorn barely cracked open an eye. ¡°And leave my cave? Pass. You goto town on your own.¡± Shaking his head, Thorin left the mine behind. As he made his way back to town, he couldn¡¯t shake an eerie feeling. The usual morning birdcalls were absent, and even the underbrush seemed devoid of scurrying wildlife. He tightened his grip on his spear, scanning the trees as he walked, but nothing revealed itself. Back in town at the inn, the innkeeper waved him over. ¡°If you¡¯re looking for work, the carpenter¡¯s got a well-paying job.¡± The carpenter, a burly man with calloused hands, nodded in approval when Thorin arrived. ¡°You¡¯re strong enough to fell a few old oaks.¡± ¡°From the large forest?¡± Thorin asked. The carpenter frowned. ¡°Yeah. Used to be loggers went in. Good wood, worth a fortune. But the forest dwellers¡­ they didn¡¯t take kindly to it.¡± He rubbed his chin. ¡°Smoke should drive most of them off. You light enough fires; you should be fine.¡± Thorin took the job, along with a dimensional ring¡ªan expensive loan from the carpenter that would allow him to store large quantities of timber. After eating and cleaning up, he left the next morning, making the half-day journey to the old oak forest alone. Arriving at the edge, he built several fires with wet wood, letting thick smoke drift into the woods. As expected, animals fled the haze¡ªbirds, rabbits, even a few startled deer. With the area clear, he set to work, felling five massive oak trees and processing them into long timber logs. The labor earned him a +0.40 Woodworking increase, and he was feeling good about the haul as he stored the logs in the ring. Then he looked past the smoke. Perched on the branches of the untouched trees beyond the haze, an army of squirrels glared down at him. Their tiny eyes burned with fury, and some had smeared war paint across their faces. A few held crude wooden weapons, little spears and clubs fashioned from twigs and bark. Thorin¡¯s blood ran cold. ¡°Oh, hell no.¡± He turned and bolted. As he ran back toward the mine, he could hear furious chattering behind him¡ªcoordinated, rhythmic. The damn things were organizing. By the time he reached the mine, he was panting, sweat dripping down his forehead. Vorn lifted his head from his pile of ingots, blinking lazily. Thorin threw himself down on a crate. ¡°Vorn, you are not going to believe this.¡± Vorn stretched and yawned. ¡°Oh, I believe many things. Just not your judgment.¡± Thorin launched into his story, detailing everything from the eerie silence in the woods to the furious army of squirrels. Every few sentences, Vorn would interrupt. ¡°You set fires to push back the forest¡¯s wildlife?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°And then you chopped down a bunch of their trees?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°And you didn¡¯t think, for even a moment, that there might be a reason no one¡¯s harvested that forest in years?¡± ¡°¡­Look, how was I supposed to know they were watching?!¡± Vorn burst into laughter, tail thumping against the stone. ¡°You magnificent idiot! You went and started a war with squirrels!¡± Thorin groaned, rubbing his face. ¡°I didn¡¯t start anything.¡± ¡°Oh no, you did,¡± Vorn snickered. ¡°You burned their woods, stole their trees, and now they¡¯re probably rallying like a tiny, fuzzy militia.¡± Shaking his head, Thorin stood. ¡°Let¡¯s just turn in the timber and get some rest.¡± The next morning, after delivering the lumber and collecting his payment, Thorin and Vorn returned to the mine. Despite Vorn¡¯s constant jabs about ¡°Thorin the Lumber Bandit,¡± the next few days settled into routine¡ªmining in the morning, smelting ore in the afternoon, practicing rune crafting in the evening. His Mining, Crafting, and even Intelligence saw steady increases. But something wasn¡¯t right. At first, it was little things. Weapons left outside the forge had tiny bite marks. The dirt around the mine showed strange disturbances, like something had been scurrying around at night. Then, on the fourth morning, Thorin found his supply crates ransacked, food stores gnawed through, and tiny footprints leading away. He and Vorn stared at the tracks in silence. Vorn finally spoke, his voice uncharacteristically serious. ¡°¡­You know what this means, right?¡± Thorin exhaled, gripping his spear. ¡°Yeah.¡± The squirrels weren¡¯t just angry. They were preparing for war. Later that afternoon, Thorin set out to gather more firewood, stepping cautiously into the woods. He was halfway through chopping a fallen log when the air shifted. A rustling from above sent his instincts flaring, and he barely managed to dive aside as a volley of tiny, sharpened wooden spears rained down where he had just been standing. ¡°What the¡ª?!¡± Squeaky, high-pitched battle cries echoed from the treetops as a dozen squirrels, painted and armed, clung to branches, glaring down at him with murder in their beady eyes. ¡°Oh, you have got to be kidding me.¡± Another volley came. Thorin ducked, shielding his face as the makeshift weapons clattered harmlessly against his cloak. The squirrels weren¡¯t following him¡ªthey were testing him, seeing how he reacted. With a growl, Thorin grabbed a thick branch from the ground and hurled it up into the trees. The squirrels scattered, but one got clipped and let out an indignant screech as it tumbled down, bouncing off a rock before scrambling away. Breathing heavily, Thorin rubbed his arms¡ªsmall scratches stung where the spears had nicked him. Back at the mine, Vorn was practically rolling with laughter. ¡°They got you! They actually got you!¡± ¡°They ambushed me!¡± Thorin snapped. Vorn wiped a nonexistent tear from his snout. ¡°Oh, this is rich. But listen, that wasn¡¯t a random attack.¡± His tone turned serious. ¡°These aren¡¯t just angry woodland critters. They¡¯re organized, and they remember.¡± A system message flashed before Thorin¡¯s eyes: System Update: You have been marked as an enemy by the Squirrel Warband. Expect increasing hostilities. Thorin groaned. ¡°Perfect.¡± In the following days, the attacks escalated. The squirrels became bolder, their numbers growing. They didn¡¯t just attack¡ªnow they scouted, observed, and harassed him at every opportunity. Thorin would spot them watching from the treetops as he mined, their beady eyes full of calculated malice. The town wasn¡¯t spared either. Travelers murmured about strange aggression from the local squirrels, with some reporting being chased off the roads. Then came the sabotage. Tools went missing, crucial supplies were chewed beyond use. One morning, Thorin found his forge in disarray¡ªwood splintered, his hammer stolen, and the anvil smeared with crushed berries in what he could only assume was some kind of war paint. That¡¯s when he saw him. One squirrel stood atop a rock near the mine entrance, wearing a battered twig helmet, its fur marked with battle scars. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Recognition hit Thorin. It was one of the original squirrels that attacked him. The attack came at dusk. It started with a distant, rhythmic chittering¡ªthousands of voices rising in unison. Then the battle cry a phrase in the squirrels barking language. System message: New language learned Squirrel. Polyglot +1 Then the first wave came, spilling from the tree line like a living tide. Squirrels, painted in war markings, wielding bone daggers and flint-tipped arrows. Some rode hawks that dove with lethal precision. Others rode badgers, their heavy forms smashing through bushes. Thorin met the charge with spear in hand, sweeping through the first ranks like a scythe. He thrust forward, impaling one, then twisted to block a flurry of tiny blades. A squirrel lunged for his throat¡ªhe caught it midair, crushing it against his armored forearm before hurling it into its kin. As the battle pushed into the mine entrance, Thorin was forced to abandon his spear. The confined tunnel turned into a desperate melee. The floor became slick with blood and fur, bodies piling up against the walls. He fought with dagger and short sword, hacking and thrusting in relentless rhythm. Every strike was met with snarling fury. His muscles screamed, his breath came in ragged gasps, but still they came. The mine¡¯s entrance became a bottleneck of death. The walls rang with the clash of steel on bone as Thorin carved through each wave, turning the tunnel into a killing ground. Hours passed, the battle a back-and-forth nightmare. Every time he gained ground; another surge of clawed warriors forced him back. He moved on instinct, parrying, dodging, countering¡ªa brutal, ceaseless dance of survival. His stamina dwindled, arms trembling with exertion, but he couldn¡¯t stop. Wouldn¡¯t stop. For hours, they fought. Then the battlefield grew silent. A hulking figure stepped forward. The Squirrel Warlord. Twice the size of its kin, it carried a sharpened dagger and wore a crude metal plate as armor. Its beady eyes locked onto Thorin, radiating pure hatred. With a growl, Thorin tightened his grip. The real fight had just begun. The battle reached its climax as Thorin stepped out of the mine entrance, reequipping his spear. Across from him, standing atop a mound of fallen kin, was the Squirrel Warlord¡ªan imposing figure, twice the size of his brethren, clad in scavenged metal and gripping a sharpened bone blade. They locked eyes. The air between them crackled with raw animosity. The warlord struck first, darting forward with inhuman agility. Thorin barely deflected the incoming blade, countering with a sweeping thrust. The warlord twisted mid-air, landing on Thorin¡¯s shoulder before slashing downward. Thorin grunted as the blade scraped against his armor, twisting violently to throw the squirrel off. They clashed again, the warlord a blur of motion, using the terrain expertly leaping from rocks, bouncing off supports, attacking from impossible angles. Thorin¡¯s spear barely kept the enemy at bay, each strike met with a counter. Thorin feinted, drawing the warlord in, then delivered a brutal kick. The warlord was sent flying, but as Thorin lunged to finish it, the squirrel rebounded, flipping over his spear and raking claws across his arm. The back-and-forth continued, neither willing to yield. Thorin¡¯s stamina waned. The warlord¡¯s wounds slowed him. In a final gambit, Thorin let the warlord strike¡ªturning at the last moment, catching the blade against his armor. He seized the opening and drove his spear forward, impaling the warlord clean through. A few survivors, including the scarred chieftain with a tattered ear, disappeared into the tree line. At the battlefield¡¯s far edge, those survivors conferred in whispers. No more open conflict. From the shadows, they would rise anew. Thus, was born their clandestine order: Rodentia. Thorin stood amidst the fallen, breathing heavily. A system message appeared: New Title: "The End of Squirrels" +2 damage to rodent-family enemies. Rodent species now suffer automatic fear debuff and submission in proximity. Battle Summary: Enemies Defeated: 1,250 Squirrels XP Gained: 62,500 XP Final Level: 22 (2,850 XP to level 23) Stat Increases: Strength: +0.40 (New Total: 30.70) Dexterity: +0.40 (New Total: 30.45) Agility: +0.40 (New Total: 29.40) Stamina: +0.40 (New Total: 30.70) Skill Increases: Throwing Skill: +12.50 Advanced Mobility: +12.50 Armor Piercing: +37.20 Spear Combat: +33.5 Short Sword: +39 Thorin stood amidst the battlefield, breathing heavily as his spear dripped with blood, the ground littered with fallen warriors¡ªfurred bodies clad in makeshift armor, their tiny weapons scattered like discarded twigs. He bent down, prying a particularly well-crafted miniature sword from the grip of a fallen foe. The craftsmanship was surprisingly intricate honed from sharpened bone, with tiny leather wrappings for grip. Vorn slithered out of the mine, surveying the carnage with an amused flick of his tongue. ¡°Congratulations, Thorin,¡± Vorn drawled, tail curling lazily. ¡°You just committed genocide against a bunch of tree rats. Shall I fetch a bard to immortalize your deeds?¡± Thorin rolled his eyes, pulling a tattered banner from a squirrel war leader¡¯s corpse. It was crudely painted, depicting what looked like an acorn encircled by tiny weapons. He held it up, shaking his head in disbelief. ¡°They even had a flag¡­¡± ¡°Of course they did,¡± Vorn said smugly. ¡°You don¡¯t gather an army without a sense of unity. And now, thanks to you, they¡¯re going to be talking about this for generations.¡± Ignoring the wyrm¡¯s amusement, Thorin got to work. Together, he and Vorn began gathering the fallen, storing their bodies in dimensional storage. Squirrel pelts were small, but they were still worth something. Besides, he¡¯d be damned if he let their sacrifice go to waste. Their weapons, armor, and trinkets were collected proof of the sheer absurdity of what had transpired. By the time the battlefield was cleared, the sun was dipping toward the horizon. The air was thick with the scent of churned earth and burnt wood. With a final glance toward the tree line, Thorin turned away. ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± he muttered. ¡°We need to let the town know.¡± The guards at the town gate gave Thorin a curious look as he approached, Vorn coiled loosely beneath his cloak. His armor was still scuffed from battle, a few stray squirrel bites on his sleeves and gloves. One of the guards, a grizzled veteran named Harvin, narrowed his eyes. ¡°Looks like you¡¯ve been in a scrap,¡± Harvin commented, adjusting his spear. ¡°Bandits?¡± Thorin hesitated. ¡°...Not exactly.¡± Vorn chuckled beneath the cloak, and Thorin shot him a glare before turning back to the guards. ¡°It was squirrels.¡± There was a moment of silence. Then another. Harvin blinked. ¡°Come again?¡± Thorin sighed. ¡°An army of squirrels. Armed. Organized. They attacked my mine. I fought them off.¡± The younger guard beside Harvin coughed, covering his mouth. The corners of his lips twitched as he struggled to keep a straight face. ¡°You¡¯re¡­ telling me you fought squirrels?¡± Vorn finally lost it, his laughter vibrating against Thorin¡¯s back. ¡°Oh, it gets better! He didn¡¯t just fight them¡ªhe waged war!¡± Thorin groaned. ¡°They started it.¡± By now, Harvin was rubbing his temples. ¡°You expect me to report this?¡± ¡°Look,¡± Thorin said, crossing his arms, ¡°go check the forest yourself if you don¡¯t believe me. You¡¯ll find weapons, armor¡ªhell, even a banner. I¡¯m telling you; they were organized.¡± Harvin exchanged a skeptical glance with his fellow guard before finally sighing. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll send a few men to investigate.¡± He jabbed a finger toward Thorin. ¡°But if this turns out to be some elaborate joke, I swear¡ª¡± ¡°It¡¯s not,¡± Thorin cut in. ¡°And you¡¯ll see soon enough.¡± With that, he turned and made his way into town, already hearing hushed whispers among the guards behind him. By the time he reached the tavern, the rumors had already begun to spread. Conversations hushed as he stepped inside, all eyes turning toward him. A few chuckles rippled through the room, while others gawked in disbelief. A burly blacksmith leaned against the counter, smirking. ¡°So, you¡¯re the one who went on a squirrel-killing spree, huh?¡± A woman across the room laughed. ¡°I heard he burned down half the forest in a blind rage!¡± Thorin pinched the bridge of his nose. ¡°That¡¯s not what happened.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± The blacksmith grinned. ¡°What did happen, then?¡± Thorin exhaled slowly. ¡°They attacked me. I fought back. End of story.¡± Vorn slithered further out from beneath the cloak, his voice dripping with amusement. ¡°End of the story? Oh no, my dear Thorin, this is only the beginning. I give it one week before this tale turns into ¡®The Butcher of the Woodland Horde.¡¯¡± Laughter erupted across the room. Tankards were raised, jokes were thrown, and before the night was over, the entire town had christened Thorin with a new, ridiculous title: ¡°The Lunatic Who Waged War Against Squirrels.¡± Despite the mockery, something undeniable lingered beneath the laughter. The sheer absurdity of what had happened didn¡¯t overshadow one key fact¡ªThorin had survived. The people of Oakhollow had heard rumors, but this cemented his place in local history. He wasn¡¯t just another adventurer passing through. He was the kind of man who could turn a ridiculous fight into a legendary tale. And legends had power. As the days passed, more people sought him out. Some out of curiosity, others with genuine interest. A wandering merchant offered to buy the squirrel weapons as novelties. Even a local bard started composing a humorous ballad about the ¡°mad warrior who fought the tiny horde.¡± Vorn, of course, refused to let him live it down. ¡°You realize,¡± Vorn mused one evening, as Thorin sharpened his spear, ¡°that you¡¯ve now made an entire species nearly extinct.¡± Thorin didn¡¯t look up. ¡°They attacked first.¡± Vorn smirked. ¡°Yes, and now their survivors will whisper your name in terror. The little ones will grow up fearing Thorin the Scourge.¡± Thorin let out a long sigh. ¡°Vorn.¡± ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°Shut up.¡± And so, even as the laughter continued, even as the people of Oakhollow spread his tale far and wide, one undeniable truth settled in Thorin¡¯s mind¡ª He wasn¡¯t just a wandering warrior anymore. He was becoming something more. End of Chapter Stats ¨C Thorin Blackwood Level: 22 (2,850 XP to level 23) Coin: 6 Silver, 26 Copper, 5 Tin Stats: Constitution: 9.25 (462Health) Strength: 30.70 Dexterity: 30.45 Agility: 29.40 Stamina: 30.70 Mana (MP): 283 Intelligence: 6.10 Skills & Abilities: Inspect: 22.75 Imbue Fire: 4.25 Cure Minor Wounds: 2 Mining: 18 Crafting: 15 Advanced Mobility: 49.25 Armor Piercing: 39.20 Throwing Skill: 42.65 Spear Combat: 40 Appraisal: 4.50 Polyglot: 3 Gathered Materials: Tin Ore: 192 Copper Ore: 64 Wolframite Ore: 64 9. Next Steps 9. Next steps. System Notification: Job Class Available! As Thorin settled down for the night in his rented room at the inn, a familiar white system message flared into existence before his eyes. [SYSTEM MESSAGE] You have reached Level 11. Your efforts have shaped your path. You may now choose a Job Class Path. Thorin sat up straight, blinking. It made sense¡ªhe¡¯d been using his spear constantly, hunting, fighting, and adapting to the world¡¯s mechanics. He figured something like this would happen eventually, but seeing it laid out so formally felt¡­ significant. Another message appeared. [AVAILABLE JOB CLASSES] Spearman: A flexible combatant who excels in mid-range combat, utilizing reach and precise strikes. Gains a bonus to spear proficiency and stamina efficiency. Pikeman: Defensive combatant trained in holding ground, excels at formation-based combat and counterattacks. Gains a bonus to bracing techniques and piercing damage. Guard: Defensive warrior specializing in protecting allies, skilled at deflecting attacks and maintaining endurance. Gains bonus to endurance and reaction time. Thorin frowned, rubbing his chin. It looked like these were basic-tier classes, but they clearly laid the foundation for something more advanced. Each path had different strengths, but none of them fully captured how he actually fought. Vorn, who had been resting coiled in the corner, opened one eye. ¡°You¡¯re making that ¡®thinking-too-hard¡¯ face again.¡± Thorin exhaled, waving at the glowing text. ¡°System¡¯s giving me a job class choice.¡± Vorn slithered closer, reading the options over his shoulder. ¡°Hah! Oh, this is rich. You finally get some direction in life, and it boils down to ¡®pointy-stick man¡¯ in three flavors.¡¯¡± Thorin ignored the jab. ¡°They¡¯re all solid options, but they don¡¯t really fit my style.¡± Vorn flicked his tail, considering. ¡°Well, let¡¯s break it down, genius. You¡¯re not the kind to sit still and hold a line, so Pikeman¡¯s out. You don¡¯t have people or town to protect, so Guard is worthless to you right now. That leaves Spearman by default.¡± Thorin wasn¡¯t convinced. ¡°It¡¯s too basic. I move around a lot, hit fast, and don¡¯t get stuck in prolonged fights if I can help it. What if I pick something that doesn¡¯t lock me into that?¡± Vorn grinned. ¡°Then you get creative. You¡¯ve been fighting like a skirmisher, using terrain, mobility, and surprise attacks. You don¡¯t need some ¡®stand-your-ground¡¯ class. You need something that lets you keep moving, strike hard, and vanish before anyone can react.¡± Thorin considered it. ¡°So, go Spearman now and evolve it later?¡± Vorn bobbed his head. ¡°Exactly. Your options will expand as you grow, and I¡¯d wager a lot of advanced classes align with the way you fight. But you need a steppingstone first.¡± Thorin sighed, then smirked. ¡°You know, for someone who mocks me constantly, you give solid advice.¡± Vorn smirked back. ¡°Well, if you die because you picked ¡®Guard,¡¯ who am I supposed to berate?¡± Thorin chuckled, then focused on the system prompt. [Confirm Job Selection: Spearman?] He tapped ¡°Yes.¡± [SYSTEM MESSAGE] You have chosen the job class: SPEARMAN. Bonuses applied: +10% Spear Proficiency, +5% Stamina Efficiency. Future class evolutions unlocked. Thorin exhaled, rolling his shoulders. He could feel a slight change¡ªhis grip on the spear felt a little more natural, his movements slightly smoother. It wasn¡¯t a huge shift, but it was a step forward. Vorn stretched lazily. ¡°Well, congratulations, ¡®Spearman.¡¯ Try not to die before we see what fun new classes pop up later.¡± Thorin smirked. ¡°Yeah, yeah. Just wait ¡®til I unlock something actually terrifying.¡± Vorn chuckled. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m counting on it.¡± The morning sun filtered through the wooden shutters, casting soft streaks of golden light across the small, rented room. Thorin stretched, groaning as his body protested slightly. Normally, he¡¯d be up early, after going through some form of exercise routine, the night before but after everything¡ªthe battle, leveling up, and processing the job class choice¡ªhe decided to take a break. Vorn, coiled in the corner, cracked open one eye. ¡°Huh. No grunting, no push-ups late in the night? Is this laziness or self-preservation?¡± Thorin smirked as he swung his legs off the bed. ¡°Call it a ¡®rest.¡¯ Even war machines need maintenance.¡± Vorn yawned, flicking his tail. ¡°Fair enough. Let¡¯s see if breakfast is as bland as usual.¡± To their pleasant surprise, the morning meal was far better than usual. The usual oat porridge had been enhanced with a touch of spice, and the eggs were cooked with herbs that actually gave them some flavor. Even the bread was fresh, rather than the usual slightly stale kind. Thorin took a bite and raised an eyebrow. ¡°Huh. This actually tastes good.¡± Laina, the freckled brunette with sharp green eyes, caught his expression as she passed by. ¡°You¡¯re welcome.¡± He glanced up, amused. ¡°So, this was you''re doing?¡± She gave a small shrug. ¡°Someone finally brought in decent seasonings, so I figured I¡¯d put them to use.¡± Thorin leaned back in his chair, grinning. ¡°I think that earns you the title of ¡®Savior of Breakfasts.¡¯ Might have to make you an honorary knight.¡± She scoffed, but a smirk tugged at her lips. ¡°And what would that make you? The ¡®Lord Lunatic Who Waged War on Squirrels?¡¯¡± Vorn, who had been resting under Thorin¡¯s cloak, cackled internally. Thorin exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. ¡°I really need to do something bigger soon, or that¡¯s gonna be my legacy, huh?¡± She patted the table. ¡°It already is.¡± With that, she turned and walked off, leaving Thorin with a swaying sight, and slightly entertained. Vorn, of course, wouldn¡¯t let it go. ¡°I like her. She¡¯s sharp.¡± Thorin sighed. ¡°Of course you do.¡± After finishing breakfast, they set out towards the mine, where Thorin had been gathering ore for crafting. The road was quiet, stretching through the outskirts of Oakhollow, winding past patches of woodland and rocky outcroppings. The cool morning air was refreshing, and the rhythmic crunch of boots set a steady pace. For once, Vorn wasn¡¯t making jokes. Instead, he seemed¡­ thoughtful. ¡°Thorin,¡± the wyrm finally said, breaking the silence. ¡°How many people in town do you think have a job class like you now?¡± Thorin furrowed his brow. ¡°I¡¯d guess a handful. Maybe some of the guards?¡± Vorn flicked his tail. ¡°Maybe. But I¡¯m betting it¡¯s none.¡± That gave Thorin pause. ¡°¡­What makes you say that?¡± Vorn shifted, peering at the trees as they passed. ¡°Think about it. You just got a class at Level 11. That¡¯s after surviving gods-know-what, training like a maniac, and fighting everything from bandits to angry rodents.¡± Thorin exhaled. ¡°Yeah, it wasn¡¯t exactly handed to me.¡± ¡°Right. Now look at the town. Farmers, craftsmen, traders. They go their whole lives doing their work¡ªbut do they ever level up? Do they ever get a class?¡± That made Thorin stop walking for a second. ¡°¡­Huh.¡± Vorn tilted his head. ¡°You¡¯ve been assuming everyone has some kind of basic class. But what if they don¡¯t? What if most people never even get one?¡± Thorin crossed his arms, thinking. ¡°But that wouldn¡¯t make sense. I mean, even back on Earth, people specialized. You had blacksmiths, warriors, hunters¡ªhell, medieval knights trained their whole lives.¡± Vorn gave him a sharp, knowing look. ¡°Did they?¡± Thorin blinked. ¡°What?¡± Vorn gestured with his snout. ¡°Did medieval people train their whole lives the way you do? The way soldiers did in your world?¡± Thorin opened his mouth to answer, then¡­ stopped. Vorn pressed on. ¡°You said it yourself before¡ªyou push your body because of where you came from. Because back in your world, people sit too much and don¡¯t move enough. You think the people here need to do that?¡± ¡°¡­Shit,¡± Thorin muttered. He ran a hand through his hair, realization settling in. ¡°No, they don¡¯t. They¡¯re already moving all the time. They don¡¯t have cars, they walk everywhere. They work fields, chop wood, haul things constantly. They don¡¯t need to ¡®exercise¡¯ because life itself is exercise.¡± Vorn nodded. ¡°Exactly. So now, back to the real question¡ªif living your life doesn¡¯t give you a class, what does?¡± Thorin walked in silence for a moment, processing. ¡°Struggle?¡± he finally guessed. ¡°Pushing yourself beyond normal limits?¡± Vorn flicked his tail. ¡°Bingo. You had to fight, had to learn, had to adapt in ways normal people here never have to.¡± Thorin exhaled. ¡°So, people don¡¯t even have a starter class because they¡¯ve never been pushed to that point?¡± If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. Vorn smirked. ¡°Now you¡¯re getting it.¡± Thorin ran a hand over his face. ¡°That¡¯s insane. It¡¯s like¡­ some kind of hidden barrier. No one even knows they could unlock something greater because they¡¯ve never been in a position where the system recognizes them as more than just a guy doing a job.¡± Vorn nodded. ¡°Exactly. And that means¡­¡± Thorin sighed. ¡°That means I¡¯m even more of a freak than I thought.¡± Vorn burst out laughing. ¡°Oh, absolutely.¡± Thorin shook his head, but a small smile tugged at his lips. ¡°At least I get cool perks for it.¡± Vorn grinned. ¡°That you do. So, what¡¯s next, oh Lunatic Squirrel Spearman?¡± Thorin glanced ahead, spotting the entrance to the mine. He rolled his shoulders, a determined glint in his eyes. ¡°It''s not enough". Thorin arrived at the mine, ready to start his day of mining and gathering ore, but something was off. The site wasn¡¯t empty like before. A small group of miners was already approaching, carrying equipment. Alongside them was a young man in a blacksmith¡¯s apron¡ªprobably the apprentice from Oak hollow¡¯s forge. The oldest miner, a grizzled man with thick forearms and a patchy beard, squinted at Thorin. ¡°Huh. You again.¡± Thorin rested a hand on his hip. ¡°Me again?¡± The miner spat to the side. ¡°Yeah. Word¡¯s spread ¡®bout you pulling tin, copper, and some fancy ore from here. Figured we¡¯d come take our turn.¡± Thorin frowned. ¡°Your turn? This was a rock dome when I started it.¡± Another miner, a younger one with broad shoulders, chimed in. ¡°Yeah, and you didn¡¯t buy the land, did you?¡± Thorin paused, back home, mining was tied to mineral rights¡ªif you owned land, you owned what was under it. But here? ¡°Wait,¡± he said, crossing his arms. ¡°You¡¯re telling me anyone can just walk up and start digging?¡± The blacksmith¡¯s apprentice scoffed. ¡°What, you think you¡¯re the first guy to break ground and claim a mine? If it¡¯s not inside city borders and you didn¡¯t buy it, it¡¯s fair game.¡± Thorin exhaled, rubbing his temple. Damn it. He¡¯d assumed that just because he was the first to mine here, it meant he had some level of control. But this wasn¡¯t Earth. Vorn, from under his cloak, was already laughing. ¡°Oh, this is rich. You thought you were a big-shot pioneer, but you¡¯re just some guy standing in a hole.¡± Thorin muttered under his breath. ¡°Shut up, snake.¡± The back-and-forth between Thorin and the miners dragged on. Thorin: ¡°I put in all the work working the vein. You¡¯re telling me anyone can just show up and take what I uncovered?¡± Old Miner: ¡°That¡¯s how it¡¯s always been. If you want exclusive rights, take it up with the town council and buy the damn place.¡± Blacksmith''s Apprentice: ¡°Besides, I¡¯m here for wolframite¡ªthat stuff¡¯s rare. If you¡¯re not working the deeper rock, you¡¯re just sitting on good material.¡± Thorin clenched his jaw. He hated this. He didn¡¯t have the money to buy the land outright, and fighting a bunch of miners over rocks wasn¡¯t exactly a good look. Vorn, still amused, decided to twist the knife. ¡°Well, well, well. The mighty warrior brought low by bureaucracy. What now, Lunatic Spearman?¡± Thorin took a step back from arguing and thought. What were his real goals? That¡¯s when inspiration struck. He thought back to the Pony Express from Earth¡¯s history¡ªa fast relay system to deliver messages and goods. Then he thought about the beacon fires of Gondor, a network of watchtowers that could rapidly signal danger. Infrastructure and systems to advance his true goals. He turned to the miners. ¡°Fine. You want to dig? Dig. But I¡¯m setting up stables and a tower here.¡± The old miner frowned. ¡°For what?¡± Thorin smirked. ¡°Because monsters exist. And the more traffic this place gets, the bigger the target it becomes.¡± The blacksmith¡¯s apprentice folded his arms. ¡°And what, you¡¯re just gonna hire some randoms to keep the place safe?¡± ¡°Exactly.¡± The apprentice snorted. ¡°Good luck finding idiots willing to work for that.¡± Thorin just grinned. He had an idea. If he wanted adventurers under his banner, he had to train them. And what better way to train than systematic labor? Step 1: Build the Stables ¨C This would give riders and messengers a place to store their mounts. He could eventually expand into a Pony Express-style system, linking the mine and Oakhollow to everywhere. Step 2: Build the Tower ¨C A watchtower would serve as both a signal beacon and a defenseable place to train recruits in strength, agility, and endurance. Step 3: Recruit Adventurers ¨C He didn¡¯t need veterans. He needed young, eager nobodies willing to put in the work. By training them through structured labor, they¡¯d develop making them better suited for real combat. It was a building block. And if it worked? He¡¯d write it all down¡ªa proper Adventurer¡¯s Guild (AG) Manual. Thorin turned to Vorn. ¡°I need to recruit.¡± Vorn raised an eyebrow. ¡°And here I thought you hated babysitting.¡± Thorin smirked. ¡°I do. But if I want to make sure I don¡¯t get screwed again, I need to start working on my real goals.¡± Vorn nodded approvingly. ¡°Finally. Some ambition.¡± Thorin cracked his knuckles. ¡°Let¡¯s build something real.¡± The path back to Oak hollow was quiet, save for the crunch of dirt, and the occasional rustling of wind. The adrenaline of the morning had worn off, leaving only the weight of plans in his mind. Thorin was focused, thinking about the mine, the adventurer recruitment, the AG manual. But Vorn? Vorn was focused on something else entirely. ¡°Alright, human,¡± the wyrm drawled from beneath the cloak. ¡°You¡¯ve been here a while, seen you fight, seen you work, but you never talk about before.¡± Thorin glanced downward, where Vorn¡¯s form was concealed beneath the fabric. ¡°What¡¯s to talk about?¡± ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t know.¡± Vorn¡¯s voice was casual, but probing. ¡°Most people have something they left behind. Family? Friends? A lover? Even a pet? You act like you just poofed into existence the moment you fell through that portal.¡± Thorin kept walking. He didn¡¯t like this topic. ¡°Had coworkers,¡± he said eventually. ¡°A job. People I knew. But nobody that would miss me.¡± Vorn scoffed. ¡°Oh, come on. You expect me to believe that? No blood ties, no drinking buddies, no one back home who¡¯d notice you vanished?¡± Thorin¡¯s jaw tightened. ¡°That¡¯s exactly what I¡¯m saying.¡± Vorn tilted his head, unseen beneath the hood. The way Thorin had answered¡ªit was too sharp, too absolute. Like he had already made peace with it. ¡°Huh,¡± Vorn mused. ¡°You know, when people dodge a question, it usually means they¡¯ve got something to hide.¡± Thorin let out a slow breath through his nose. ¡°Nothing to hide, just nothing.¡± Vorn pressed further. ¡°Parents?¡± ¡°Gone.¡± ¡°Siblings?¡± ¡°Never had any.¡± Vorn paused. Even for someone as closed-off as Thorin, that answer felt... flat. No hesitation, no weight. Just a fact, delivered with all the emotion of a rock rolling down a hill. ¡°Friends?¡± Thorin gave a half-shrug. ¡°Had some growing up. Life happened. We drifted apart. No one left.¡± Vorn narrowed his eyes. ¡°And coworkers?¡± Thorin smirked. ¡°What about them?¡± Vorn hissed in amusement. ¡°So that¡¯s how it is. You were just... existing, weren¡¯t you? No roots, nothing tying you down. Makes sense why you¡¯re adapting here¡ªyou had nothing before, and now you¡¯ve got a start.¡± Thorin didn¡¯t answer immediately. Vorn¡¯s words should¡¯ve stung. They didn¡¯t. Because it was the truth. He had spent years moving from one job to the next, working with people who were only temporary parts of his life. At the end of the day, the only thing that had ever mattered was the work itself. And now? Now, for the first time, he was building something that might actually last and mean something. Vorn hummed. ¡°You know, most people who end up in a new world spend their time trying to find a way back. But not you. You¡¯re not looking backward at all, are you?¡± Thorin smirked. ¡°Nothing to look back to, besides is there a way back, did they make it?¡± Vorn considered that for a moment. Then, in a rare moment of sincerity, he said, ¡°Hmph. No, you¡¯re a strange one, Blackwood.¡± Thorin chuckled. ¡°You just figuring that out?¡± Vorn rolled his eyes. ¡°No. I just finally get it.¡± They walked the rest of the way in thought. For the first time, Vorn had a clearer picture of the man he had been told to watch, and Thorin felt more, like someone laying down roots. Back in Oak hollow, Thorin and Vorn headed straight for the busiest part of town¡ªthe market square. It was late morning, the streets were bustling with merchants, laborers, and townsfolk. Stalls lined the road, selling everything from fresh produce to blacksmith-forged tools. People in a constant flow, bartering, chatting, and exchanging news. If Thorin wanted recruits, this was the place to find them. Vorn nudged Thorin from under the cloak. ¡°Alright, human. What¡¯s your plan? Just start screaming at people until they sign up?¡± Thorin rolled his shoulders, scanning the square. ¡°Nah. That¡¯s a good way to get ignored.¡± Instead, he picked the busiest spot¡ªnear the central well¡ªwhere people often gathered to talk or take a break. He took a deep breath, then projected his voice with the same energy he¡¯d used giving orders on oil rigs. ¡°You! Yes, you! Ever wanted to be stronger? Smarter? Faster? Ever thought about wielding a weapon, cutting down monsters, or earning coin doing what others can¡¯t? The Adventurers'' Guild is forming, and we¡¯re looking for recruits!¡± Heads snapped toward him. Conversations paused. People turned. Good. Now he had their attention. A few folks leaned in, curious. Others crossed their arms, skeptical. Someone snorted and muttered, ¡°Another wannabe hero.¡± Thorin ignored that one. He needed to make them understand. He spread his arms, voice firm and confident. ¡°You¡¯ve all heard the stories-men and women who carve their own path, who hunt monsters, claim bounties, and bring in rare goods. But what you don¡¯t hear about is how they got there.¡± He paused, letting the words settle. ¡°That¡¯s what we¡¯re offering. Training. Growth. Equipment. Work. A way to get stronger, smarter, tougher. We need fighters, crafters, gatherers, and couriers¡ªpeople willing to push themselves.¡± Some people nodded. Others exchanged looks. Time to sweeten the deal. Thorin gestured to the crowd. ¡°Ever tried buying a good sword? A real one? Costs a fortune. What if you could train and earn one? What if you could learn to make one yourself?¡± That got the attention of the young apprentice nearby. ¡°Ever thought about what a courier¡¯s work means? Travel, coin, and protection along the way. What about gathering rare materials? Learning which plants, ores, and beasts have value?¡± Some farmhands and hunters started paying closer attention. ¡°The Guild won¡¯t just train you to swing a sword¡ªit¡¯ll teach you how to thrive. Because the strong get stronger. And those willing to put in the effort? They get ahead.¡± A few murmurs of interest rippled through the crowd. Some people started asking questions. Others were still skeptical. And then, a young man stepped forward. The kid was young¡ªmaybe fifteen at most¡ªwith a lanky frame and a serious expression. His clothes were worn but well-kept, and there was an intelligence in his eyes. ¡°I¡¯ll sign up,¡± he said, voice steady. Thorin raised an eyebrow. ¡°Name?¡± ¡°Gary. Gary Gygaks.¡± Thorin grinned. Didn¡¯t expect that one. Vorn snorted from under the cloak. ¡°Alright, first victim¡¯s in. Let¡¯s see if the rest of them have guts.¡± Thorin turned back to the crowd. He could tell more were interested, but they needed a final push. Time to drop the bombshell. Thorin let the crowd quiet down before he spoke again. ¡°Here¡¯s something you don¡¯t know. When you train hard enough, when you grow in the right way, the system recognizes you.¡± People leaned in. ¡°You get options. Real ones. Paths that make you stronger, give your abilities, and open doors that weren¡¯t there before.¡± He paused, then dropped the real hook. ¡°When I hit Level 11 the system gave me choices. Job Classes. Spearman. Pikeman. Guard. And more beyond that. You¡¯ve heard of knights, rangers, mages? That¡¯s how they start.¡± The square exploded into noise. People turned to each other, whispering, questioning, debating. Others called out¡ª ¡°What kind of jobs are there?¡± ¡°Do you have to fight to get them?¡± ¡°What about crafting? Gathering?¡± Thorin raised a hand, cutting through the noise. ¡°Think about it. How many of you have seen a system message about a job class? Probably none.¡± A wave of nods. No one had. ¡°That means this isn¡¯t normal. It¡¯s difficult, but it¡¯s possible. If you train the right way, if you push yourself, the system will acknowledge it. That¡¯s what the Guild is about getting you there.¡± The murmurs shifted. Conversations grew excited. Then, one by one, people started stepping forward. A farmhand, a butcher¡¯s son, the apprentice, a pair of hunters. More and more. By the time the dust settled, nearly two dozen people had gathered. Thorin crossed his arms and smirked. The Adventurers'' Guild had begun. 10. Noobs 10. Noobs Thorin led the twenty-four recruits out of town, the group a mix of young and old, men and women, all drawn by the promise of strength, knowledge, and perhaps even a job class. The march was slow, with some of the younger ones struggling to keep up. ¡°This lot¡¯s already wheezing, Thorin,¡± Vorn muttered under the cloak. ¡°Maybe you should¡¯ve set up a hospice instead of a guild.¡± Thorin ignored him. They were green, untrained. But that would change. As they arrived at the mine, Thorin wasted no time. He grabbed a stick and dragged a line through the dirt. Then another. And another. Within minutes, he had marked out the foundation of the tower. A second, larger area was designated for the palisade wall. The recruits exchanged glances. A few looked skeptical. A burly young man, Wallace, the butcher¡¯s son, finally broke the silence. ¡°Uh¡­ why are we building a tower?¡± Thorin didn¡¯t stop marking. ¡°Because if you want a class, you need strength. And if you want strength, you need training. This?¡± He gestured around. ¡°This is training that does real work.¡± Gary nodded. ¡°So¡­ labor builds our stats?¡± Thorin pointed at him. ¡°Exactly. Regular workouts are good, but if you mix them with work that forces you to move weight, forces endurance, you get even better results. Stronger, faster, tougher.¡± Vorn chuckled. ¡°And if they die in the process, less mouths to feed.¡± Thorin ignored him. It was time to start. He divided the group into teams: Wallace, Garrett, Hugo were assigned to dig the foundation. Clara and Mervin handled lifting and moving dirt. Gary, Elaine, and Jonas cut trees, hauling them back with Marthe, Oswald, and Roderic. Lance, Finn, and Becca handled quarrying, cutting stone into usable blocks. Callum, Hugo, and Royce hiked the stone to the build site. Everyone else¡ªBran, Samara, Victor, Ingrid, Owen, Sable, and Duncan¡ªran supplies, sharpened tools, or helped rotate teams. ¡°Every hour, we switch tasks,¡± Thorin explained. ¡°Every third hour, everyone runs around the perimeter.¡± The recruits stared. That¡­ sounds rough,¡± Becca muttered. Thorin smirked. ¡°So does getting killed by monsters.¡± They got to work. As the first hour passed, something unexpected happened. A sudden, bright white message appeared in front of each recruit. SYSTEM MESSAGE: Through rigorous physical exertion, you have temporarily exceeded your body''s limits. Stat growth accelerated! +1 Strength +1 Stamina +1 Dexterity +1 Agility The recruits stared, wide-eyed. Wallace, the butcher¡¯s son, was the first to break the silence. ¡°I¡­ just got stronger?¡± Marthe looked at her shaking hands. ¡°I¡ªI got the same message.¡± Gary¡¯s grin widened. ¡°It¡¯s working.¡± Thorin crossed his arms, nodding. ¡°Told you.¡± Vorn let out a mock gasp. ¡°Oh no, they¡¯re getting stronger. Soon they might actually be useful.¡± The realization hit hard. This wasn¡¯t just hard work¡ªit was efficient training Thorin leaned against a rock, arms crossed. ¡°Job classes don¡¯t just appear because you hit a certain level,¡± he said. ¡°The system recognizes what you do. If you swing a sword for years, you¡¯ll probably get a sword-based class. If you use a bow, you might get a ranger-type class. It¡¯s about habits, experience, and action.¡± Becca, still tossing dirt, ¡°So this is just making us stronger for fights?¡± ¡°Exactly. Higher stats mean better combat performance. Strength lets you hit harder. Dexterity lets you move faster. Stamina lets you fight longer. Every bit counts.¡± Marthe adjusted her grip on a log. ¡°And fighting gives EXP. Which gives levels.¡± ¡°And levels give classes,¡± Oswald finished. Thorin grinned. ¡°Now you¡¯re getting it.¡± And the second hour? The difference was noticeable. Where at first, they had struggled, now their movements felt smoother. The strain was still there, but the weight didn¡¯t seem as overwhelming. Wallace tossed a shovel of dirt higher than before. Elaine¡¯s swings against a tree were sharper. Oswald and Roderic, hauling logs, were moving faster. And then¡ª SYSTEM MESSAGE: +1 Strength +1 Stamina +1 Dexterity +1 Agility By the third hour, Becca gasped. ¡°It happened again!¡± Mervin flexed his arm. ¡°I feel faster.¡± Jonas clenched his fists. ¡°I feel like I can go longer.¡± Thorin grinned. ¡°That¡¯s the point.¡± Vorn chuckled. ¡°Guess you won¡¯t all die after all.¡± The recruits exchanged excited, almost disbelieving glances. This wasn¡¯t just some crazy drill. It was real. They were getting stronger. They were changing. And for the first time, they truly understood¡ª This wasn¡¯t just training. This was the path to power. By the end of the day, no one quit. They were panting, sweating, sore¡­ but still standing. The return run to Oak hollow was a different beast than the exhausting trek to the mine that morning. At first, the recruits had stumbled and straggled, their bodies unused to the grueling exertion. But now? Now they ran as a cohesive group. Their footfalls fell into a steady rhythm, breaths coming in sync as they instinctively matched each other¡¯s pace. Wallace called out, ¡°Is it just me, or does this feel way easier than before?¡± Elaine grinned. ¡°Not just you. My legs don¡¯t feel like they¡¯re about to fall off this time.¡± Mervin, still sweating but no longer gasping for air, nodded. ¡°It¡¯s those stat gains. We got stronger¡ªall of us.¡± The realization rippled through the group. Just a few hours of systematic training had already made a tangible difference. Oswald tested his speed, briefly pulling ahead before settling back into formation. ¡°I could never run this long before.¡± Roderic, usually quiet, finally spoke. ¡°This¡­ this is real. If we keep doing this, we¡¯ll be monsters.¡± Thorin, running at the front with an easy stride, smirked. ¡°That¡¯s the idea.¡± Vorn, still hidden beneath Thorin¡¯s cloak, muttered, ¡°You know, I almost feel bad for whatever poor idiot ends up on the other end of these fools once they get actual weapons.¡± The recruits grinned among themselves. They weren¡¯t just training. They were becoming something more. By the time they reached Oak hollow, they weren¡¯t a disorganized bunch of eager hopefuls. They were the beginnings of a force. As they entered the town, people turned to stare. A full group of sweating, grinning men and women ran into town with purpose, their energy infectious. Thorin didn¡¯t waste time. He led them straight to the inn, pushing open the doors and motioning for them to file in. The innkeeper, surprised by the sudden rowdy influx, raised an eyebrow. ¡°What¡¯s this, then?¡± Thorin smirked. ¡°A proper meal for the newest recruits of the Adventurers¡¯ Guild.¡± He tossed down coin onto the counter. ¡°Feed ¡®em. Ale too.¡± The recruits cheered. Gary slapped Jonas on the back. ¡°Hell yeah!¡± Becca beamed. ¡°I¡¯ve never trained hard enough to earn a meal before.¡± As steaming plates of roasted meat, fresh bread, and seasoned potatoes were placed before them, the recruits dug in with ravenous hunger. Marthe raised her tankard. ¡°To the Adventurers¡¯ Guild!¡± If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. A resounding chorus of cheers followed. Tonight wasn¡¯t just about eating. It was a celebration. A marker of the first step toward something bigger. As the plates were cleared and tankards emptied, the recruits settled into a more focused discussion. The buzz of excitement still lingered, but now it shifted toward what came next. Thorin leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. ¡°Alright, now that you all got a taste of what real training feels like, let¡¯s talk about tomorrow.¡± The table quieted as everyone listened. ¡°We¡¯re gonna push harder,¡± Thorin continued. ¡°More strength work, more endurance drills, and we¡¯re gonna start splitting training to focus on where each of you want to go.¡± A ripple of interest ran through the group. Gary, the young, wiry recruit who had stepped up first, grinned. ¡°I want to be a courier. Fast as hell, sharp eyes, someone who can get messages and goods between towns.¡± Thorin nodded. ¡°That means speed, agility, and stamina. We¡¯ll push your running, your carrying capacity, and throw in some evasion drills.¡± Becca, who had taken to training with unshakable determination, slammed a fist on the table. ¡°I want to be a tank. I don¡¯t care how hard it is, I want to be able to take a hit and keep going.¡± A few of the others chuckled at her intensity, but Thorin nodded approvingly. ¡°Then you¡¯re gonna be focusing on constitution, strength, and defense tactics. You¡¯re gonna learn how to take a hit and not go down.¡± Jonas, the biggest of the bunch with thick arms and a steady temperament, spoke up next. ¡°I wanna be a healer.¡± That got a few raised eyebrows. Wallace leaned in. ¡°A healer? You look more like you should be swinging a warhammer.¡± Jonas shrugged. ¡°Big guys can be healers too. No one targets the tank, but they sure as hell go after the healer. I don¡¯t want to go down just ¡®cause I¡¯m standing in the back.¡± Thorin grinned. ¡°Smart. We¡¯ll work on constitution, intelligence, and stamina for you. And once we get our hands on some proper spell scrolls, you¡¯ll start learning the magic side of it.¡± Around the table, the other recruits started chiming in. Oswald wanted to be a scout, specializing in ranged combat and tracking. Mervin aimed for a frontliner, favoring raw strength and melee combat. Elaine and Marthe were both interested in support roles¡ªnot healers, but ones who could boost their allies with tactics and battlefield control. Wallace wanted to be a duelist, relying on agility and precision. Aldric, Lyle, and Petra were drawn to crafting, wanting to focus on smithing, leatherwork, and fletching. Giselle, Roderic, and Edmund all saw the value in becoming couriers, traveling and carrying goods efficiently. Thorin listened, letting each recruit voice their goal before nodding. ¡°Alright,¡± he said. ¡°Tomorrow, training will be a repeat of today then, the day after training will split into teams. Your drills will be focused on building the stats you need to get stronger in the right direction.¡± There was a ripple of excitement through the group. ¡°And the day after tomorrow,¡± Thorin continued, ¡°we¡¯ll start actual combat drills.¡± The room went silent. Becca¡¯s grin widened. Jonas cracked his knuckles. Oswald sat up straighter. Thorin smirked. ¡°Get cleaned up and lots of rest, tomorrow, we work.¡± After the long day of training, running, and organizing the Adventurers'' Guild recruits, Thorin welcomed the trip to the bathhouse. The hot water helped ease the stiffness in his muscles, and as he scrubbed away the dirt and sweat, he let his mind wander over the day''s events. The recruits had pushed past their limits, gaining real stat increases, and they were already thinking ahead about their roles. It was progress¡ªgood progress. Once he was clean, he returned to the inn, stepping into the small, rented room where Vorn was curled up under Thorin¡¯s cloak in the corner. The wyrm¡¯s golden eyes flickered open. ¡°Figured you drowned,¡± Vorn said lazily. ¡°I was about to start looting your stuff.¡± Thorin rolled his shoulders, joints cracking. ¡°Would¡¯ve been a waste of time. I¡¯d just come back and take it back from you.¡± Vorn snorted. ¡°Bold talk from someone who still smells vaguely like wet dog.¡± Ignoring him, Thorin sat on the small wooden table, pulling out a rough scrap of paper and a piece of crude graphite. He tapped it against the table, thinking. ¡°The AG Manual.¡± They needed one. If he was going to make the Adventurers'' Guild an actual force, he had to create a structured training system¡ªone that recruits could follow without him standing over their shoulders every second. He sketched out the framework¡ªdaily physical training, combat drills, crafting work, and a progression path toward job classes. He listed out the basic stat gains from exercises and training regimens that targeted different specializations. But the longer he wrote, the more his hand tightened in frustration. ¡°No printing press,¡± he muttered. Vorn glanced over. ¡°The hell¡¯s a printing press?¡± Thorin leaned back, exhaling. ¡°Machine that can copy books¡ªstamps ink onto pages. Speeds up how fast you can spread knowledge. Here? Everything has to be copied by hand, one page at a time.¡± He ran a hand over his face. ¡°We¡¯re gonna need one at the AG tower. If we¡¯re training adventurers, we need standardized information, tactics, and guides. Can¡¯t just rely on word-of-mouth.¡± Vorn¡¯s tongue flicked out in thought. ¡°So, you wanna make knowledge cheap and easy, huh?¡± ¡°Something like that.¡± Thorin tapped the paper again. ¡°Would take time to set up, but it¡¯d be worth it.¡± He finished the rough outline of the AG manual and set the paper aside, stretching. Then he looked at Vorn. ¡°Think you can handle merging another bubble in your hoard?¡± Vorn¡¯s golden eyes narrowed. ¡°You want more loot?¡± ¡°I want more resources.¡± Thorin met his gaze. ¡°Building an Adventurers'' Guild is gonna take more than muscle. We need supplies, tools¡ªhell, maybe even books that can help us figure out what we¡¯re missing.¡± Vorn stared at him for a long moment, then let out a deep sigh. ¡°Fine. But if some horrible monstrosity crawls out of it, it¡¯s your problem.¡± Thorin rolled his eyes. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t have it any other way.¡± As the DHS settled from the merge, Vorn squinted slightly, his gaze distant as he scrolled through his HUD inventory menu. His tongue flicked out in thought before he began listing off the new additions. ¡°Well, let¡¯s see¡­ More silver coins¡ªnot a fortune, but you¡¯re stacking up a nice pile.¡± Thorin nodded, already expecting that much. ¡°Now, onto the ingots¡­¡± Vorn¡¯s voice carried a lazy amusement, as if this was beneath his grand draconic stature. ¡°Copper. Tin. Iron. Zinc. Basic, but useful. Enough here to keep your smiths busy for a while.¡± Thorin smirked. ¡°Good. More raw materials mean better gear down the line.¡± Vorn tilted his head, flicking through more entries. ¡°Huh. A few gemstones.¡± He listed them off Two garnets, one citrine. ¡°Meh, common but decent trade goods.¡± A small, uncut sapphire. ¡°Could be valuable if cut right.¡± A polished onyx. ¡°Might have some magic uses. Or just look cool.¡± His gaze flicked over another section. ¡°Ah, now this is more interesting¡ªcrafting materials.¡± Treated leather. ¡°Looks like it was prepped for armor or gear.¡± Dried herbs. ¡°Some common alchemical stuff. Few I don¡¯t recognize.¡± Powdered quartz. ¡°That might come in handy for enchanting.¡± Bone needles and sinew. ¡°Primitive.¡± Vorn snorted. ¡°But hey, someone might find a use for it.¡± Thorin crossed his arms, waiting. ¡°That it?¡± Vorn paused. Then, his eyes flickered slightly, focusing on the next entry. He made an amused noise. ¡°Well, well. Looks like you got some reading material.¡± A moment later, a weathered leather journal appeared in front of him, hovering in his inventory menu. With a mental command, Vorn pulled it from the hoard, materializing it into existence before flicking it over to Thorin with a casual head jerk. Thorin caught it and flipped it open. The rough handwriting filled the pages with detailed notes. ¡°Some kind of hunter and part-time crafter,¡± he muttered. ¡°Kept records on tracking, foraging, crafting¡­ even some notes on small-game hunting.¡± Vorn yawned, unimpressed. ¡°Anything actually useful?¡± Thorin read deeper, his expression shifting slightly. ¡°Yeah. Training tips. Efficient techniques. Stuff that could help the recruits improve faster.¡± He tapped a section on leatherworking shortcuts and basic metal shaping. Vorn grinned. ¡°So, what? You¡¯re building an adventurer¡¯s library now?¡± Thorin smirked. ¡°I''ll take what I can get, one step at a time.¡± Thorin flipped to the front of the journal, scanning for a name. Near the inside cover, a rough signature stood out, written in firm, practical strokes. ¡°Edran Holloway,¡± he read aloud. Vorn snorted. ¡°Never heard of him.¡± Thorin stored the journal, his thoughts already spinning. If this guy was just a hunter and part-time crafter, how much more knowledge was out there? He leaned back, arms crossed, staring at the ceiling. His own job class choices had been based on what the system offered¡ªbut what about classes that weren¡¯t listed? ¡°What if,¡± he muttered, more to himself than to Vorn, ¡°there are growth paths locked behind certain knowledge or training?¡± Vorn¡¯s tail flicked under the cloak. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t surprise me. You¡¯re already breaking conventions with this ¡®organized training¡¯ nonsense.¡± Thorin made a mental note: Keep an eye out for more logs, diaries, or journals. If even a simple hunter had left behind valuable insights, there had to be countless hidden techniques waiting to be uncovered. He exhaled sharply, pushing himself up. ¡°I¡¯ll need more research. More records. Even old logs might hold something useful.¡± Vorn smirked. ¡°So, we¡¯re looting books now? That¡¯s a first.¡± Thorin chuckled. ¡°If it gets us ahead, I don¡¯t care what we have to loot.¡±