Standing in front of the Mirth Tavern, Peregrine shook out his hands, nerves racking him with the thought of having to introduce himself to new people. He considered himself an introvert that never thrived in social situations. The sound of chatter bled through the doors, which didn’t help calm him because that meant there were loads of people inside. Taking a deep breath to steel himself, he pushed open the doors.
What awaited him in the tavern, no amount of prep work could’ve prepared him for. Dwarves, elves, fairies, lizard-people (maybe the conspiracies were true), minotaurs, and plain-old humans ate and drank, sitting at tables and wandering the floor. It was almost too much for his brain to take in. Being reincarnated into a new realm was one thing, but seeing every creature he’d read about in fairy tales and watched in fantasy movies was crazy. He wondered if the inspirations that created those characters in stories came from people who had a past life in the Irenic Realm. If so, it made perfect sense.
To make matters worse, most of the patrons stopped chatting and drinking to give Peregrine a once-over. It felt sort of like the record scratch moment in sitcoms, only instead of watching on TV, he was the center of attention. If only he could hide in a shell. On a positive note, nobody seemed angry to see him. He received a few head nods, but many just returned to their previous activity with no acknowledgement.
Now he needed to find the other two he was supposed to meet. Scanning the room, he noted that nobody in the immediate area was over level 10. They were all above him, but not by leagues. Tucked in a shadow-filled corner, he found one of his people.
[Wendell]
[Defend Level 1]
Guess that’s my guy, Peregrine thought. I hope he’s not an asshole.
“Hey, Wendell,” Peregrine said, walking over to introduce himself. “I think we're supposed to meet. At least, that's what The Morrigan wants.”
Wendell glanced up from his huddled position. “Oh! R-right. She said you'd be a Creative class. And you're the only one I've seen here. And the only Peregrine, too.” He laughed sheepishly, then stood, wiping his hands on his jeans before reaching out for a handshake.
Peregrine met his hand and shook, relieved that Wendell also had a dead fish grip. Just two awkward people meeting in a fantastical situation.
Wendell motioned for Peregrine to take a seat, and they both scooted their chairs close to the table. They had to because the tables were tall, like abnormally tall. It was probably to accommodate some of the larger beings. The tables and chairs were thick and heavy, a little off balance maybe, but rock solid. They were likely built by a fine craftsman with primitive tools.
The two sat quietly for a bit checking out the tavern, neither starting a conversation, but both seemingly comfortable with that. Metal sconces lined the upper parts of the walls, the lit candles inside keeping the tavern dimly lit. Piles of melted wax stacked up on the floorboards underneath them.
“Hey. You have, like a System that talks to you right?” Peregrine asked. “It shows up in your vision too?”
“Y-yes,” Wendell nodded vigorously. “Mine is really worried about me. And that makes me even more nervous.” He scratched at the neckline of his turtleneck sweater, revealing that his neck was red from multiple scratch marks. His unblinking eyes darted around the room.
“Thank God,” Peregrine said, taking a relaxed breath. Watching Wendell claw at his skin, it made sense his System sounded anxious—his personality was paired with it, and the guy looked like a nervous wreck. “I thought maybe she was lying to me and I was losing my mind.”
“Me too.” Wendell seemed to perk up at Peregrine’s shared plight. “So, what do you think we’re supposed to do next? She made it sound like I’m here to be some sort of guardian. But that’s got to be a mistake. Right?”
Peregrine hadn’t noticed when he first sat down, but there was a giant shield resting against the wall behind Wendell. It was made of wood and had to be at least six feet tall. Judging from the size, it had to be extremely heavy, and would be a miracle if Wendell could actually lift the thing.
“Is that yours, then?” Peregrine asked, pointing to the shield.
“I wish it wasn’t,” Wendell said. He turned and grabbed the edge of the shield, pulling it over to the table.
Up close, Peregrine could see the thickness of the wood, the cracks, and knots. There were intricate symbols carved and painted all over. Leaning in closer, he realized they were coat of arms designs. He wouldn’t recognize any of them specifically as he wasn’t familiar with these types of designs, besides in general terms.
“Can I hold it?” Peregrine didn’t know why the urge hit him hard, but it did. It looked cool as hell.
“Sure, if you want to.” Wendell stood and hoisted the shield up easily.
“Damn! Isn’t that heavy? What’s your strength stats?”
Wendell stood still momentarily, his eyes moving around. He was checking his menu. “Strength is listed under Attack, and I only have a 1 in that. But I have a 5 in Defend. Oh, I guess it’s actually a 6, since I have a +1 from my shield. It’s not heavy to me at all, even with low strength.”
This made Peregrine feel better that he wasn’t the only physically weak one. “I should be able to lift it. My strength is low, too. I started with a 5 in Creative and a 1 in everything else.” Plus his Attack stat was now a 2, so it was higher than Wendell's. But he chose not to tell him. He didn’t know the guy, and it felt safer to keep that piece of info hidden.
There were two leather straps, and a wooden handle, attached to the back of the shield. Wendell showed how he slid his arm through the straps, and grasped the wooden handle with his hand to lift the shield. Peregrine wasn’t dumb and understood how all this worked, but he humored the guy by pretending to be learning it for the first time. Wendell propped the shield against the table and took a step back.
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Peregrine pushed his suit sleeves up as far as they could go, which was only midway up his forearm. He mimicked what he’d just watched, and hoisted. Then, he readjusted his grip and lifted again. Finally, he grabbed each end of the shield and grunted. The shield never moved an inch.
Puzzling. Peregrine had no answer for why he couldn’t pick up the shield, even with the higher strength stat.
“Hey. Don’t feel bad.” Wendell stepped forward and patted Peregrine on the shoulder. “It seemed kind of heavy when I first lifted it in the graveyard.”
Wendell was huge, Peregrine realized at that moment. The guy had to be six foot five and two hundred and fifty pounds of muscle. Peregrine was skinny, but definitely above average height, and he looked like a runt next to the brickhouse shield carrier. “No offense, but you had to have been a big time jock back on Earth, right?”
With a light laugh, Wendell shook his head. “I get that a lot.” He pulled on the sleeves of his tight turtleneck. Even through the fabric, the definition of his muscles popped. “I lifted weights everyday. But I didn’t play sports and mostly kept to myself. You could say I was pretty anti-bully back in high school. If I saw kids getting picked on I would step in. Thankfully my size scared most of the bullies off, because I wasn’t much of a fighter. Just strong. Instead of doing the athlete schtick with my build, my hobbies were games, movies, and books. In that order. Oh, I liked watching pro wrestling, though. That was my favorite. I’m gonna miss that.”
“I wonder if your shield is a Thor’s hammer situation. Maybe you’re the only one worthy enough to pick it up.” Peregrine took a seat at the table and motioned for Wendell to do the same. He leaned in close and whispered, “But that won’t matter because we’re going to find a way out of here.”
Wendell looked around the room with nervous eyes, like he was making sure no one had overheard. “What do you mean? Out of this town?”
“No. I mean back to Earth. There’s got to be a way. I’ve been told twice that the only ways out are by reaching level 100 … or getting killed and risk being tormented for all eternity by The Morrigan. I’m sure they’re hiding something, though. A higher realm has to have more reasonable options than that. What do you say? You ready to get the fuck out of this place and put an end to this being told to fight to the death bullshit?”
Wendell grinned. “I’m in! Let’s find a way home.”
A sword swung down and landed across the table, the sharp blade burying halfway into the wood.
“Now why would you want to go and do a thing like that?”
If Peregrine and Wendell had been holding hands, they would’ve been chopped off. They both jolted back and looked to see their attacker.
“Ugh,” Wendell groaned. “It’s Alissa. Our third party member.”
[Alissa]
[Attack Level 1]
Alissa was a little shorter than Peregrine. She was slimmer, almost frail looking. Freckles dotted her face underneath her bright blue eyes. A river of wavy, black hair spilled down her back. Much like Wendell, she was also dressed casually in jeans and a shirtwaist dress. Her face held an unsettling feature that was hard to describe, but gave the impression she was a wild child that had finally been unleashed.
Was Peregrine the only one in this world wearing a suit? A quick glance around the room seemed to say this was so. There were people and creatures wearing medieval style clothing, some in more modern attire, and there were even some styles he hadn’t seen before.
Alissa braced her foot against the edge of the table, wrapped both hands around the grip of the sword and tugged. It came out easily, taking splinters of wood with it. She showed off by unnecessarily spinning the sword for a bit, before smoothly gliding it into the scabbard on her hip. Luckily, no one was standing next to her because she didn’t check first and would’ve sliced and diced some people.
Her sword was unique. Instead of silver, the blade was an obsidian black. Most of the hilt was made of hardwood.The grip had a spiral design, but the cross-guard was long and shaped like a lightning bolt. It was unclear what the pommel was made of because it glowed a bright white that was in stark contrast to the black blade.
“What’s wrong with you two?” Alissa asked, pulling up a chair. “I love it here. Free fighting and a free weapon. Sign me up. The Morrigan told me the three of us are special. That makes us royalty.” She kicked her feet up on the table and rested her hands over her head. “I can see why I am. She gave me a damage dealing weapon. Wendell here I’m not sold on, yet. How are you supposed to kill things with a shield? Maybe he’ll make a good decoy for me.”
This girl is too much, Peregrine thought. He wasn’t usually one to speak his mind and cause friction, but he really wanted to this time. “Are you always such a prick?”
Alissa glared at him. She glanced down at his arm and licked her lips. “And your weapon is a … feather? What the hell do you do? Are you the useless one?”
Oh, that’s it, queen of the alpha shitheads. How dare she call him useless.
Peregrine was ready to let her have it, when a round of applause went off in his head. The other two must have heard it also, because they looked bewildered.
You’ve done it! You’ve met your party members. Aren’t they pleasant? You now have access to Party in your menu. Check it out and have fun, kids.
And we met at a tavern, Peregrine thought. How cliche. He took a moment to check out their stats. Wendell and Alissa were doing the same, their eyes looking upward, scanning left to right.
[Alissa]
[Attack Level 1]
Attack (Strength & Speed & Agility) 5 [+1]
Defend (Block & Absorb & Withstand) 1
Creative (Magic & Durability & Adaptability) 1
Weapon - Exaltation of the Fallen
Weapon Skill - Strike of Woe
[Wendell]
[Defend Level 1]
Attack (Strength & Speed & Agility) 1
Defend (Block & Absorb & Withstand) 5 [+1]
Creative (Magic & Durability & Adaptability) 1
Weapon - Life and Times
Weapon Skill - Coat of Arms
“Wait a second,” Alissa said. “How come “Yankee Doodle” is level 2, while me and blockhead are still level 1?”
“I killed a zombie in the fields on the way here,” Peregrine said. If he was more immature, he would’ve stuck his tongue out at her. But he wasn’t too mature to lean back in his chair and smirk.
“Zombie?” Alissa shrieked. “What zombie?” Looking at Wendell, “Did you see a zombie?”
“Uh. I-I did see one,” Wendell said. “But I ran around it.”
“Weak.” Alissa made a swiping motion with her arm and a “woosh” noise. “If I had seen it, I would’ve chopped its head clean off with my trusty sword. Just like I did with the dumbass tutorial one.” It was enough to earn an eye roll from Peregrine.
A woman with disheveled hair, and dark circles under her eyes, approached their table.
Sandra
[Hospitality Level 55]
Sandra tightened her ponytail, then threw her hands on her hips. “Listen, you three. We don’t have a lot of time to prepare you for the full moon slaughter tonight.”
