“Well, well, look who’s here,” Rock called from atop the walkway. “Early, too. Didn’t expect you ‘til morning, plus a day.”

  James blinked up, barely tracking the silhouette against the torchlit stone.

  he thought, half-delirious.

  Rock clomped down toward the postern gate. A narrow side entrance tucked under a watchtower, barely wide enough for a cart.

  “After-hours entry fee,” Rock said as the iron gate creaked open. “Five silver.”

  James sighed and mentally shifted a gold piece from his initial fifty into the imaginary pocket labelled Gotta love +1 to Mind. He was so very clever.

  He handed it over. Rock handed back five silver in change.

  “You look like you need that Silver Room we talked about. Come on.”

  He turned and called up toward the wall. “Trent! Back in twenty.”

  Another voice, faint, grunted in acknowledgment. James barely caught the nod.

  “So,” Rock said conversationally as they crossed the inner yard. “Did you make it to level five?”

  James snorted. “No. But I carded a Thorncat. Was told that’d count.”

  Rock stopped mid-step. “You carded a Thorncat? Before five?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Garron must be pretty sore after fighting that without a sword.”

  James shook his head. “Nope. Wasn’t him. Thorncat poked me full of holes, clothes too.” He shifted his stance, ribs twinging, and winced. Breathing hurt.

  Rock blinked. “That was before you got your leather armour?”

  “Yep.”

  Rock’s smirk faltered, then came back sharper. “Huh. Guess you’re full of surprises.”

  The “village,” more like a town, stretched wider than expected. Overhead, the sky was a blank slate of clouds, smothering any moonlight. Torch and lantern glow carved out islands of visibility, their reach shorter than James wanted.

  Still, his eyes caught more than they used to. Signs read clean from farther away. Corners stayed sharp instead of dissolving into blur. Every sign was in English.

  He could trace the streets in straight lines, the buildings squared and planned instead of crooked. Neat roads led toward what looked like a central square. Somewhere close, the stink of penned animals hung heavy in the air.

  The Guild Hall was obvious even before they reached it. It sprawled across nearly a full block, all angled stone and reinforced wood, with banners snapping in the breeze and guards at every door. Not the sleepy-eyed kind pretending their flashlight was a sword. These guys looked like they chewed nails and bench-pressed regrets.

  As they crossed the yard, the stink grew stronger. To the left, a livestock pen pressed up against the palisade. Cows shifted, chickens clucked, maybe a goat somewhere in the shadows. Nearby stalls stood empty, the scraps of a daytime market still scattered across the ground.

  They moved on, boots crunching gravel. To the right, rows of cages stretched into deeper shadow. Shapes shifted inside: some snarling, some whimpering, some too still to tell.

  The guards here weren’t professionals like those at the front of the guild. They smelled of booze and smoke.

  Rock kept his voice low as they walked. “We hate them. They work for Darneath. Noxious merchant that one.” He jerked his head toward the Guild Hall. “For now, let’s get inside.”

  The commons hit like a tavern on payday: raucous, firelit, packed to bursting. A bard mangled a lute in the corner, someone was arm-wrestling a centaur, and a dwarf screamed victory over an empty tankard.

  “I’m not in shape for this,” James said, catching Rock’s arm. “Can we just go to that Silver Room you mentioned? Assuming its healing enchantments are real.”

  “They are. But you need to eat first. No fuel, no healing.”

  James groaned. “Fine.”

  Inside, the place was a festival of species. Elves threw darts near the far wall: long ears, long limbs, long stares. Dwarves clustered around the fire, chugging ale and insulting each other with what sounded like affection. No orcs or goblins that James could see. Humans still made up the majority, interacting with everyone.

  Rock nudged him toward the long central table. “One gold for entry. Includes food, access to the quest board. Drinks cost extra.”

  James paid up, dropped into a chair, still bleeding, and waited. No one commented.

  His endurance was only up one point. He didn’t feel woozy though.

  A handsome server in a sleeveless tunic approached with an easy smile. “Good evening. I’m Mark. I’ll be looking after you tonight. Would you like to see the drinks menu, or shall I bring out some food to start?”

  “Yes, food. Something hot. And a lot of it.”

  Mark paused, grinned, then said, “Coming right up.”

  He returned with a plate that made James want to cry. Pork steak, potatoes, vegetables, all drowning in thick, glossy gravy.

  He tore in, making sure to eat most of it, but willed a few chunks of pork and a piece of potato into his inventory. No one appeared to notice. Squire was still his little secret.

  If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

  By the time the plate was clean; Rock reappeared, already halfway to the door. “Mark will show you up. Get some rest. You earned it. Anne will see you tomorrow.”

  Mark led him up the stairs. “First floor. Standard, more spacious rooms.”

  “Uh-huh,” James managed.

  “Second floor’s the Silver tier. No pets allowed. Though perhaps you qualify for an exemption.” He winked. James saw it but couldn’t bring himself to react.

  They crested the last step, and James felt it immediately. The air hummed with magic, the doors traced in runes.

  Mark handed him a key. “Room six.”

  “Is this your first time sleeping in a Silver Room?” Mark asked.

  James nodded, nearly asleep already.

  “Well then, you’re in for a treat. Pleasant dreams,” he added, like it was slightly funny, gently nudging James into the sixth room.

  Inside was small. Clean. A bed. A tiny washroom. And when he closed the door, silence. Unnaturally so.

  James loosened the pouch at his side. Squire popped her head out, eyes bright, nose twitching.

  She made a faint, high-pitched mew. Searching.

  “Looking for your dad, huh?” James murmured.

  He tore the pork from dinner into squirrel-sized bites, added a chunk of potato, then held out his hands like a bowl. She ate fast, straight from his fingers, her tiny claws pressing into his palm for balance. When she finished, she pawed at his shirt again, eyes wide and impossibly imploring.

  “Oh, fine.”

  The armour came off first, clattering into a heap. Shirt and trousers followed. A clean set from his inventory appeared before the last grimy sleeve was free. The dirty pile stayed where it fell. Tomorrow’s problem.

  Only then did he set her on the bed. She curled into the crook of his arm like she’d been doing it for years.

  He slid under the blankets carefully, not disturbing the tiny ball of fur beside him. The bed pulled him down like gravity had doubled.

  The system clock said eight hours had passed, yet he woke loose-limbed, chest easy, ribs painless.

  Something warm shifted at his side. Squire was awake, fur glossier, limp gone, bite mark erased. Bigger, too. Easily a month’s growth overnight.

  Bond Progress Increased – Squire: +10%

  The catch to feeling this good? His nose. He smelled rank. His clothes. And, yeah… squirrel by-products.

  His first order of business was to see how good the shower was. Warm water hissed over his shoulders while Squire chased droplets across the tiles, standing on her hind legs to swipe at the spray like it was prey. It passed the test. He wondered if it was all rune magic or if they had some good plumbing.

  That’s when he realized he didn’t have body wash. Or shampoo. Or dandruff shampoo…

  Next was laundry. He dragged the heap of clothes over, cycling them through his inventory while tipping the grimy water out of his waterskin and down the drain. Cleaner, sure, but the stains clung on.

  Now came the harder part.

  James sat on the bed, eyeing Squire where she perched on the pillow. “How am I going to hide you, huh?”

  Squire gave a sharp squeak, as if to say,

  “I don’t know who I can trust yet.”

  Another squeak.

  “Okay, okay. I know you’re big and tough. But for now, it’s better to stay sneaky. You can be sneaky, right?”

  Squire darted behind the pillow and peeked over.

  James smiled. “That’s what I thought.”

  He wasn’t sure how much she understood. Maybe she was picking up on the intent behind his words.

  She might have nodded, or maybe he imagined it. He pictured her in a tiny elf costume, waited for outrage, then let the thought go. She wasn’t reading his thoughts.

  He flicked through the System Inventory until he found something that might work: He found it was bigger than expected, once it appeared in his hands. Soft leather, drawstring neck, plenty of room. Perfect.

  She hopped in, turned twice, and curled up. The tip of her tail stuck out for a heartbeat before he grinned and tucked it in, along with another piece of jerky.

  James loosened the drawstring for air and tied the pouch to his belt. It settled against his hip like nothing more than extra supplies.

  “Well,” he murmured, giving it a gentle tap, “you just went from forest orphan to luxury traveller.”

  The pouch gave a faint Approval.

  James stepped out of the Silver Room feeling one hundred and ten percent. Squire’s pouch swung against his hip as he moved, and a tiny squeak of protest reminded him to slow down.

  The Guild commons had cooled overnight, last night’s chaos traded for the clink of mugs and the low murmur of morning talk. The smell of bacon and eggs drifted from somewhere, and he nearly drooled.

  A Guild runner in a green sash intercepted him halfway across the hall. “Guildmaster Anne will see you now.”

  Eating interrupted.

  James nodded anyway and followed the runner into a side corridor panelled in polished wood, doors locked tight on either side. The runner tapped twice, then eased one open.

  Anne’s office looked designed to impress without quite bragging, heavy desk, papers in neat stacks, several coin bags lined on one edge, their drawstrings sealed with red wax. A map of the region hung on the wall behind her chair, pins marking towns, trade routes, and something James couldn’t place.

  System Notice – Map Updated.

  She didn’t look up right away. One page turned in a slim ledger, her hand steady, her calm deliberate. “Come in.”

  James stepped inside. The runner closed the door behind him with a soft click.

  Anne finished the note she was writing, set her pen aside with precise care, and finally lifted her gaze. Eyes pale as glass locked on him: cool, steady, the kind of stare that made the chair feel like it obeyed her rather than the other way around. Blond hair pulled back tight, not vanity but discipline, every line of her posture carved into control.

  “I knew you’d be coming,” she said evenly. “Or someone like you would. I won’t tell you how I know. The knowledge cost me, and I want a return on my investment. So, for both our sakes… make it worth it.”

  Her gaze didn’t waver.

  “And James, do not tell anyone here you’re not from Erranoc.” Anne winced on the world’s name, like even speaking it carried a sting. “That’s why Rock and Sparrow brought you in under contract. Keep that cover, and we’ll get along fine. Give me reasons to invest in you, I will. Give me reasons to cut you loose…” She let the silence stretch. “I can’t send people to cover for you if you vanish. Push yourself as I won’t do it for you.”

  James blew out a slow breath and dropped into the chair opposite her desk.

  he thought, then said it out loud.

  “Alright then. Hi, Guild Leader Anne. My name’s James. What can I do for you?”

  The faintest curve touched her mouth, not a smile but a flicker of amusement at his audacity. She reached under the desk and produced a slim leather folio. “Your information packet. As agreed. And please, call me Anne.”

  James flipped it open just far enough to see tidy handwriting before the System chimed:

  Knowledge Base Updated

  – Local Politics, Basic Currency, Bargaining, Etiquette.

  Map Updated.

  Journal Updated.

  “Thanks for the mint,” Anne said lightly. “Sweets like that are rare here.”

  “You’re welcome,” James said, deadpan. “They're cheap where I come from.”

  She slid another thin booklet across the desk. “These are the Guild rules for Bronze tier members. It would be best if you familiarize yourself with them.”

  Item Acquired – Guild Pamphlet: Bronze Membership Rules.

  Knowledge Base Updated.

  “There’s a quest board in the commons,” Anne continued. “And if I wish, I can also assign you jobs directly. But before I do, what kind of work do you think you’re good at?”

  James smiled faintly. She was clever. This felt less like small talk and more like she was weighing him, measuring the size of his bite.

  “How about a bounty,” he said. “Alpha Wolf. Death-Marked card.”

  Anne’s smile sharpened by a fraction. “Ambitious. I like that. We’ll see what I can arrange.”

  “And a bonus for wolf tokens from its pack,” James added, leaning back. “If I’m going after the alpha, I might as well clear the rest while I’m at it.”

  Her eyes flickered with the faintest trace of amusement. “The quest that you in no way have already completed, right?” She winked. “It’ll be up by midday.”

  “So, Commander, you’re probably starting to get a handle on your own class.”

  She leaned back, fingers steepling. “I think it’s time you saw how everyone else operates.”

  She glanced past James toward the door and called out, “Rock.”

  The door swung open before James could turn.

  “Yes, Guildmaster?” Rock’s voice had that suspiciously innocent tone James already distrusted.

  “Take our new Commander for a walk,” Anne said. “Show him the.”

  Rock’s grin was slow and entirely too pleased. “With pleasure.”

  James had a bad feeling about this.

  ??? System Alert: Squire attempted to duel readers for not hitting “Follow.”

  Challenge was declined due to “insufficient threat level.”

  Squire is deeply offended and is now sharpening her claws on the couch.