An adventurer walked into a great hall, hat in hand.

  Or helmet at least, and half dragging his feet as he made his way into the low-ceilinged room, his eyes darting around with almost frantic energy.

  And it was worth a look. A far cry from the vine-wrapped tree keeps of the Great Forest.

  It was a long, narrow room. Fully forty foot long but only around fifteen wide. The main portion of it, at least. Small cubbies were cut into the outer walls, where the steep roof cut the headspace to little more than five feet. Cut into numerous small cubbies cut into that thick wall were pairs of stacked bunks.

  Above them, thick wood rafters, small logs really, were topped with a layer of branches and a thin layer of what looked to be fired clay. If he hadn’t seen it from the outside, he’d never figure there was a foot thick of growing grass and soil atop. An odd arrangement, but it and the unlit fire pit in the center of the room could likely keep the feasting hall nicely toasty. Even now with the fires unlit long enough for the ever-present smoke to disperse, it was noticeably warmer in here than out in the brisk spring morning.

  Not that he’d call it comfortable even so.

  But the small group sitting at the high table in front of him didn’t seem to feel that way.

  Two knights, a lady, a Centurion of some stripe and a Baronet sat comfortably at a short table that was the top bar to a T made from a massive trestle holding pride of place down the length of the hall. One knight and the Baronet were fully armored, but the other two seemed relaxed and unbothered in thin tunic-like robes.

  Though as close as they were, it might be a different kind of heat kept them warm.

  A sharp sigh forced his eyes from the thinly clothed pair.

  “Master Gareth. It has been what? A half year? And not the best such for you and yours I hear. My condolences.”

  He forced himself snap out of it, slapping his fist to chest in salute. “Ah. Thank you, Your Lordship. Thank you. I can’t as say as any of it was malicious. Nor targeted really, just the way of the world. Some rise, some fall. I’m hoping its time for, ah, me and mine to do the former.”

  He made an effort to straighten his spine a bit, moving forward with every bit of confidence he could force himself to show till he stood a few paces shy of the table on the right side.

  “That may be. I have rifts, monsters and predatory beasts aplenty. But, well, allow me to be blunt, it’s not a soft land. It takes work. To survive the challenges and to stow up enough food to survive the winters. I’d not want you to come in expecting anything else.”

  “Ah, Sir Leosige warned us he did Your Lordship. Wes can handle it. Not that we’d mind a bit of help getting started loike. No’ for nothing o’ course. Never anything for nothing. But, well, wes had bad luck its true, but wes had good luck too.”

  “I’m not following your Master Adventurer.” The great man in front of him offered a small smile, gracing the stern face with rather uncomfortably piercing eyes.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  He hesitated… but in the end the choice had already been made. Made for a bit of kindness when it wasn’t owed. They’d take a chance on a noble who helped a commoner against another noble, who asked for their tables, and listened as they told them. Who offered healing and hope without hidden prods or traps.

  With half shaking hands, he pulled a drawstring pouch on a lanyard from the front of his plate-reinforced leather jerkin. Then poured from it a single, dimly glowing stone, not the pigeon size of a skill stone neither, but the chicken egg of a proper class.

  A quick inhalation of breath shook the other side of the table. And he looked up, at wide-eyed faces that stared at the stone in his hands. He wondered for a brief moment what they saw in his face now? Hope or fear? Pride or desperation?

  Enough. The cup was shaken and on the table. It was time to pull it away and see what the dice showed.

  With care he placed it, cradled by its pouch on table in front of him. “Yous, ah, yous bought something of mind before Your Lordship. Happen we was hoping you would do it again.”

  Eyes flickered from the stone to him, but they didn’t speak; instead, they shifted to focus on the center of the room. The tall, armored figure sat calmly, a small smile still on his stern features and whose same calm eyes stared at him as he tapped lightly at the table in thought. Eyes that made him want to twitch away, to look down before their owner saw far more than was comfortable.

  At last the tapping stopped and a mouth opened. “This is no spear, Master Gareth, Teller of Tall Tales. An exaggeration I find oddly appropriate for you. Alas, I can't afford to pay you what this is worth.” Gareth's heart fell to the pit of his stomach as the man raised a quick hand, stopping half-formed comments from the men and women to his sides. “A Common class I take it?”

  Gareth nodded dumbly. How..?

  “The dim glow. I’ve seen a Common class before. It glowed about like that. They say the better ones are brighter. Much brighter at times.” He made a brushing gesture. “Depending on how rare I’d put that at anywhere from 50-200. In gold denars.” Gareth’s knees shook slightly at the number. How much was honor worth to a man? The high price suddenly wasn’t the source of glee he’d hoped for. “That about right sa-Sir Miro?”

  “Ah, yes My Lord. Combat classes at the top, or even a bit above that range to the right buyer. The common base classes like Farmer at the very bottom or a bit below.” She shrugged, turning her eyes back to him. “Do you know what it is?”

  “Ah, yes Your Ladyship, My man Hamish, his Inspect is well leveled. Handy at times it is. This is Forager. A, ah, very common class it is in the Forest Your Lordship. But ah, its useful loike.”

  The Baronet nodded. “Useful indeed. But common as well as Common not to mention not a combat class. So the bottom of that range. And despite the windfall you’ve brought me Miro, we’ve too many places to spend that coin to pay a fifth of it here.”

  She nodded regretfully, giving the stone a longing look.

  “And despite that, I’d still like to have it.” Gareth his eyes having started to sink shot up to the face in front of him. Was he going to…

  “No, no Master Adventurer. I will neither rob nor cheat you. There are many awards a Noble can offer beside coin, are there not? Rift privileges, homes, a guild charter, taxes deferred and board for the winter. Add in some serious coin, but not so much that it gets you a knife in your back-“ The very thought of that amount had his testicles drawing up close! A man’s mother might get ideas for such an amount! “-and I am sure we can make a deal.”

  The smile in front of him seemed suddenly brighter than the class stone before them.

  “Oh yes. We can indeed. But not here, and not now. For that kind of discussion, My Lady would not forgive me if she was not included.”

  “Ah, then?”

  “I suggest you leave the stone with me.” The Baronet's eyes shifted to the back of the room, where a thin line of others waiting for their audiences stood. “It’s not safe to walk around with such a valuable. But I pledge my honor, you will be paid a reasonable price. Then take a quick journey with me to our herds upriver.”

  He glanced backward and winced. “As you say, Your Lordship.” At least it wasn’t snake eyes.

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