Mich gave them each a quick pat on the arm before spinning on her heel and heading back toward the front desk. The moment she left, Ronald stood from the table, stretching his lean frame as he approached them with a slow, deliberate gait. There was no wasted movement in him, each step was measured, almost lazy, but with the coiled precision of someone ready to strike at any moment.

  To Brett, the man resembled a wild jungle cat: unhurried, confident, and utterly dangerous.

  It was clear now that Ronald was some kind of feline beastfolk. His build was wiry and lean, muscles strung tight under weathered skin and tawny fur. Sharp, feline features gave him a perpetual scowl, and his short-cropped ears twitched at every sound, the tufts at their tips flicking like antennae. His eyes had slit-pupils and an intense jade green and seemed to read everything at once, sweeping over them with a cold calculation that made Brett’s shoulders tense.

  Ronald’s gear looked equally seasoned: muted greens and browns blended with faint streaks of darker fur along his arms and neck, giving him a camouflaged, almost spectral appearance. His cloak shifted and curled around him with each step like a living shadow, and the leather bracers on his forearms were marred with deep scratches, trophies, maybe, from hunts long past.

  He stopped a foot or so in front of them, his unreadable gaze shifting between the two. He was slightly shorter than Brett but carried himself like he was ten feet tall. Josh, who was tall, was doing everything he could to seem smaller, shrinking under that jade-eyed stare, hands stuffed in pockets, shoulders hunched, eyes fixed firmly on a patch of stone floor.

  Brett thought that, under different circumstances, the way Ronald was looming over them might’ve been funny, if it wasn’t also genuinely terrifying.

  And then, suddenly, Ronald barked a laugh.

  The shift in energy was so abrupt that both Brett and Josh flinched.

  “Relax, you two,” he said, grinning as he slapped a hand on each of their shoulders, his voice warm now, almost friendly. “I’m not really that bad. I just like to mess with the newbies. Keeps you sharp.”

  Brett exhaled, and Josh did too, both of them only just realizing they’d been holding their breath. The tension drained from their bodies in one long sigh of relief.

  At least for now, it seemed they weren’t going to be thrown into some brutal survival gauntlet… though Brett had a feeling their time with Ronald was still going to be anything but easy.

  “So,” Ronald began, folding his arms across his chest. “As Mich said, I’m Ronald. I handle training for a lot of the new blood that comes through here. I retired from active adventuring a few years back, some bad luck, lost a few friends I shouldn’t have. This is my way of making sure fewer rookies end up in shallow graves or as monster chow. And it helps me keep an ear to the ground.”

  He gave Josh a once-over and nodded. “I can tell the big one’s a warrior,” then turned to Brett. “And you, I’m guessing you’re a mage?”

  Both of them nodded, still uncertain if they were allowed to speak yet, each still processing the sudden emotional whiplash of meeting their new trainer.

  “Good,” Ronald said, his tone more relaxed now. “I can work with that. I’ve never been much of a caster myself, but Cais helps out with the arcane stuff when needed, she’s the cranky old elf always reading a book somewhere. Training starts tomorrow morning once the rest of the new recruits arrive. A few are already here if you look close.”

  He gestured vaguely behind him toward the tavern’s far side, though not at anyone in particular.

  “For now, you've got a couple of options for room and board. The guild does offer rooms upstairs, but they’re pricey, mostly used by higher rankers or those who’ve had a lucky haul. Most new adventurers prefer the nearby inns; they’re cheaper and honestly a bit more comfortable. Up to you.”

  Ronald rolled his shoulders, his voice taking on a slightly more serious edge.

  “Until training begins, I’d suggest keeping things low-risk. Stick to basic quests, gathering herbs, exterminating vermin inside the city walls. Nothing stupid, yeah? We’ve had a spike in goblin activity out in the woods lately, and I don’t want to find out you ran off chasing them without knowing which end of your sword is sharp.”

  Josh gave a small, awkward nod. Brett managed a weak smile.

  “Once you’ve got a few more levels under your belt and a proper party, goblin culling might be your daily bread. But before that happens, you’ll need to learn how to survive the job. That means general combat drills, group coordination, basic field medicine, even some classroom time. Adventuring isn’t all swinging steel and throwing fireballs, it’s a profession. And it’s not kind to the unprepared.”

  He tilted his head slightly, looking at them again.

  “You two just get into town?”

  Brett looked to Josh, then back to Ronald. “Uh, yeah. We arrived about an hour ago, give or take.”

  Ronald grinned. “Perfect. That means you’ve got a full evening ahead of you. Spend it wisely. Explore the city, get a feel for the place. Check out the notice board if you want to pick up a Stone-ranked task, but keep it within the city limits, understood?”

  The pair nodded again, uncertain whether to speak.

  “Any questions?” Ronald asked, raising an eyebrow.

  A beat passed with just two silent head shakes.

  “Didn’t think so.” He smirked. “Two hours after sunrise. Meet me here. Don’t be late.”

  With that, Ronald turned sharply on his heel and marched back toward his table, already heckling one of the drinkers in a loud, half-playful insult.

  They quickly put some distance between themselves and Ronald’s table before glancing at each other with wide eyes and matching what the hell was that expressions.

  “Okay,” Brett muttered, running a hand through his hair. “We need to find somewhere to sleep, something to eat, and then we can explore for a bit.”

  Josh gestured back toward the main hall. “Well… they sell food here, right?”

  “Yeah, I guess we could eat here, especially if we end up staying in the guild,” Brett replied, his tone thoughtful. “But if the prices are high like Ronald said, we might want to check out one of those inns he mentioned. Let’s head back to the desk and ask Mich. She seems to know what’s what.”

  With a shared nod, they made their way back to the front desk, where Mich greeted them once more with a warm smile.

  Brett stepped forward. “Hey, sorry to bother you again but do you have any advice on where we should stay tonight? Maybe where to eat too? We’ve just arrived and have no clue what’s normal around here.”

  “Not a bother at all,” Mich replied cheerfully. “You’ve got a few options. The guild does have rooms available upstairs, basic but clean, though they’re on the pricier side. Most new adventurers head to the inns. You’ll find them dotted around the town. They get cheaper the closer you get to the outer wall, but that usually means smaller rooms and more noise. There’s decent food here at the guild, but the inns serve meals too. It really depends on how much coin you’re willing to part with.”

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  Josh cleared his throat. “Speaking of coin… we’re kind of flying blind here. We’ve no idea what anything’s worth yet. Could you take a look at what we’ve gathered? We ran into some goblins outside town and grabbed what we could.”

  He placed his bag on the counter with a soft thud, untying the loop and opening it to reveal a small pile of loot, bits of gear, crude trinkets, and a handful of mismatched coins.

  “Sure, I can have a look,” Mich said, already reaching into the bag with practiced ease. “Let’s see what your first haul's worth.”

  Mich dove into the bag with surprising efficiency, separating its contents into neat little piles on the desk. She quickly set aside a collection of grim trophies of dried goblin ears curled at the edges and began stacking the assorted copper coins beside them. Bits of rusted blades, chipped daggers, and crude goblin weaponry were unceremoniously returned to the bag.

  “Well,” she said, brushing her hands together. “You’ve got a decent handful of copper here. Not bad for a first run. There’s a standing bounty on goblin ears of twenty copper apiece and you’ve got enough here to make it worth the paperwork. The weapons? Scrap metal, really, but a blacksmith might toss you a few coins for them.”

  She offered them both a sympathetic smile. “It’s enough to keep you going for at least a week or two, depending on which inn you choose. The ones closer to the outer walls will stretch your coin further. Just don’t expect much luxury. I’d recommend asking about a block booking for the training period, some places give a small discount if you stay for a full week.”

  Brett leaned in slightly, hopeful. “What about staying here? At the guild?”

  Mich’s smile faltered, softening into something more like regret. “Afraid that might be out of reach for now. The guild rooms are comfortable, sure, but the rates are steep, meant more for established adventurers with steady coin flow.”

  Josh and Brett exchanged a glance but didn’t look too discouraged. In truth, Brett felt almost… pleased. They’d arrived in this world with nothing but the clothes on their backs, and now they had money and a semblance of a plan. In a strange, backwards way, the goblin attacks had been a blessing.

  “Thank you, Mich,” Josh said, and Brett echoed the sentiment. Then they turned toward the nearby quest board, its wooden surface cluttered with parchment and pins, faded ink, and curling edges.

  Stone-ranked quests, the kind meant for total beginners, covered most of the board. The bounties were small, but achievable, more goblin ears, rat tails, and bundles of local herbs with unfamiliar names. One posting requested the wings of something called a Huggle, which was described as a “noisy, evasive, feathered menace.” Brett figured it must be their world’s version of a pigeon.

  Josh scratched his chin as he read. “Uh… I don’t know how much help I’ll be with any of these. I mean, unless you want me to just stomp around and scare them into the open?”

  Brett grinned. “That might actually work. You make the noise, draw them out and I’ll pick them off. Good practice for me, and less chasing for you.”

  Josh gave a low chuckle. “Great. I’ve been in this world for less than a day, and I’m already the bait.”

  “Welcome to adventuring,” Brett smirked, already scanning the board for Huggle sightings.

  Soon after leaving the guild, the pair picked a direction at random and started down the eastern road in search of an inn they could actually afford. The first few they approached had polished signs, gleaming lanterns, and sharply dressed innkeepers who didn’t bother hiding their disinterest in dusty travellers paying in copper. The mention of silver for a single night sent Brett and Josh backing out the door more than once, exchanging silent looks of horror as they moved further east.

  Eventually, as the road led them closer to the city’s outer gate, they spotted a weathered building that looked more within reach. Its timber frame was warped with age, the wood grey and softened from years of rain and sun. Ivy clung to the stone base like a stubborn memory, and the roof sagged in places as if the building had long ago exhaled and never drawn another full breath.

  A wooden sign creaked above them, swaying with each breath of wind. Its once-vibrant paint had long since peeled away, leaving behind a ghost of what it used to be. Time and weather had worn it down, but the image, faded though it was, sparked a flicker of recognition. A broad snout, curved horns, a stubborn, familiar shape. It stirred something warm in Brett’s chest, a memory of home. And then he saw the name, just barely legible in cracked lettering: The Bull’s Head.

  Brett paused, smiling faintly.

  Back home, The Bull had been their local, the backdrop to countless memories. Brett could almost hear the low hum of conversation, the burst of laughter from old friends, the clink of glasses raised in cheer. The scent of worn wood, stale beer, and something hearty simmering in the kitchen ghosted through his mind. For the briefest moment, he wasn’t in a foreign land under strange skies, he was home. The familiarity felt too perfect, too well-timed. Was this just coincidence… or something more?

  Josh glanced at him. “You good?”

  “Yeah,” Brett said, his smile deepening. “I think this might be the place.”

  Brett pushed the door open, ducking low to avoid banging his head on the low frame. A sharp gasp of pain followed from behind. Josh hadn’t been quite as careful, scraping his forehead on the worn wood. Inside, they were immediately enveloped by a wave of warmth and the rich scent of roasted meat mingled with the sharp tang of strong ale. The wooden floorboards creaked beneath their boots, worn smooth by countless footsteps but carefully kept clean. One wall was dominated by a massive stone hearth, its fire crackling merrily and casting dancing shadows over a collection of well-worn, mismatched furniture. The long wooden bar gleamed, polished smooth from years of use, lined with sturdy stools where adventurers swapped stories and sought comfort in drink.

  The pair approached the bar, eyeing the burly man behind it, the innkeeper, they assumed, his grizzled beard and warm smile putting them at ease.

  “Evenin’, how can I help you two young’uns?” he greeted them.

  “Hi,” Brett replied, his confidence buoyed by the cosy atmosphere. “We’re looking for a place to stay for a few weeks while we train at the guild. Do you have any beds available? And how much would that cost?”

  The innkeeper’s sharp gaze appraised them, lingering a little longer on Josh, who was still gingerly rubbing his scraped head. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, for the two of you, three silver each a week. That includes an evening meal each day. How does that sound?”

  Brett’s smile faltered. “Oh... we only have copper coins. Sorry. Do you know anywhere cheaper?”

  The innkeeper chuckled, a deep booming laugh. “Copper makes silver, lad. Didn’t anyone ever teach you that?”

  “We’re new to town, and we didn’t use coins much back home,” Brett admitted.

  The man’s brow furrowed in confusion, but he shrugged. “Well, sounds like a strange place. Ten copper equals one silver. Got enough copper to cover it?”

  Josh set their coin sack on the table, now brimming after their bounty exchange with Mich. “I think we’ve got enough.” He began counting the coins carefully.

  “Good news!” the innkeeper grinned broadly. “Name’s Garrik Stonebrook. Welcome to The Bull’s Head.” He poured each of them a tankard of ale, plus one for himself, and started gathering the copper coins Josh had laid out. When the last coin was counted, he handed them their drinks, raising his own in a quiet toast. “This place might not be much, but it’s my pride and joy. Seen better days, sure, but the food’s hearty and the booze’s strong. Hope it feels like home while you’re here.”

  Brett and Josh exchanged smiles, a comforting warmth of safety and familiarity easing their worries. For the first time since arriving, they began to feel like they might actually be okay here.

  The next few hours passed pleasantly as they sat with Garrik, who was soon joined by his wife, Barb, a striking elf whose rich brown hair and gentle eyes captivated the pair. Garrik chuckled as he caught their admiring looks. “Eyes up lads, she’s taken!” Brett guessed this was a familiar joke.

  The couple shared their story: Garrik had been an adventurer for many years until an injury forced him to retire. During his recovery, he met Barb, who cared for him with quiet strength. They eventually settled in this town, took over the inn, and had found their happiness ever since.

  As the evening wore on, the inn filled with patrons, and their storytelling was interrupted more than once by Garrik needing to serve drinks. Seeing their host grow busy, Brett nudged Josh, and they quietly moved to a smaller table to give Garrik a breather.

  The Bull’s Head bustled with a loyal and cheerful clientele, a lively mix of races unwinding from their day. Garrik knew every face and called out greetings by name. Food was served throughout the evening, Josh was especially delighted, devouring a steaming bowl of meat and dumplings. Though neither could identify the meat, the taste was unmistakably delicious.

  When the night grew late, the pair decided to turn in, knowing tomorrow promised a busy start. Garrik showed them to their room, a simple space with two beds, a dresser, and a wooden chair. “If you boys need the facilities during the night, there’s one just down the hall. And there’s a well outside if you want to wash up in the morning. Have a grand sleep!”

  Brett and Josh collapsed onto their beds, the exhaustion of the day overwhelming them, and sleep claimed them almost instantly.

  A fine tale, wasn’t it?

  If it filled your mug and stirred your heart,

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  The storyteller drinks on such kindness.