All in Charisma (A LitRPG/Isekai Adventure)

As they entered the Silver Stag, the warmth and comfort of the interior immediately embraced them. The common room was spacious, with polished wooden tables, a roaring fireplace, and the aroma of hearty food wafting through the air. At this time of day, it was mostly empty.

A friendly innkeeper behind the counter, a middle-aged man with graying hair, greeted them with a smile, addressing Alistair. "Sir Alistair of Drakendale. It is a pleasure to see you again. Be welcome to The Silver Stag. Will you and your entourage be staying the night, or merely taking lunch?"

"Staying the night," Alistair said, retrieving his coin purse and producing three fat, five-silver pieces. "Lunch, dinner, and breakfast on the morrow, and four of your finest rooms."

"Very good, sir. To confirm, this will not be on the Chapter House's credit?"

"No, sir. Off the books. The extra is for your discretion."

"Of course, sir," he said, almost giddily. "All of you seem tired and worn, but The Silver Stag is the finest establishment in all Highcliff. If you cannot find rest, succor, and peace here, then you can't find it anywhere." He turned his head back. "Martha! Prepare a swift but full luncheon for four guests in the private dining chamber." Then, back to Alistair. "Will you take ale or wine?"

"Wine, but make it well-watered," Alistair said. "We've been walking all night through the wilds, and we plan to rest as soon as we have had lunch."

"Indeed?" the innkeeper asked, surprised at this. "Well, after your meal, we can prepare four tubs for you, so that you might wash the night's trials away. You can count on our discretion, Sir Alistair."

"I thank you, Gregory."

"Please follow me to the dining room."

The innkeeper led them swiftly through the common room toward a door leading into the rear of the establishment. Thankfully, what few patrons there were sat far from the counter, so there was no chance of Alistair's words being overheard.

They entered the private dining room, a cozy chamber with a large oak table set for four. The walls were adorned with tapestries depicting hunting scenes, and a chandelier with candles cast a warm glow. They settled into cushioned chairs. Within minutes, a generous meal was set before them: roasted chicken, fresh bread, a variety of cheeses, and a hearty vegetable stew. Cool, watered wine was poured, and Gregory left them to their meal.

The four attacked their plates ravenously. Once done, Justin was so full that he was about to nod off, a feeling aided by the wine's gentle buzz. From Lila's heavy eyes, it seemed as if she were in the same boat.

The innkeeper returned. "Your baths and rooms are ready. If you're ready, I will take you there myself."

"Very good," Alistair said.

They rose from their seats, following the innkeeper up a set of stone steps. Everyone was too tired to even talk.

"Here they are," the innkeeper said with a smile, once they had arrived at the end of the hall. He handed them four small brass keys. "At The Silver Stag, we have a dedicated bathroom for each floor. You shall find it halfway down the hall, separated by gender, of course. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Nothing, good innkeeper," Alistair said. "Thank you."

"If you have dirty laundry, it is not too late to begin the early afternoon wash. I can have Martha return it to you by evening if you set it outside your door within the hour."

"Of course," Alistair said.

The innkeeper gave an accommodating bow before retreating down the stairway.

Once Gregory was gone, Alistair took the others in. "We'll be safe here through the night. I'll be able to detect any trace of Death Magic if it comes too close to the inn. Those thralls of Valdrik are better suited for hunting overland than blending into a city like this. If we leave tomorrow when the sun is bright, we should get a sizable head start on them."

"They will be lying in wait for us on the Queensroad," Eldrin pointed out. "By now, they've surely figured out where we're headed, especially considering the company we're keeping."

"That is something we must discuss, perhaps this evening, when our heads are fresher for rest." Alistair's gaze took in Justin and Lila. "You two can bathe first."

"Don't have to tell me twice," Lila said. She then frowned. "Just realized I don't have a change of clean clothes. Is it safe for Justin and me to go out and buy a few things?"

"Not a chance," Alistair said. "We must stay in the inn until it's time to leave. It's far too dangerous."

She pouted a bit but didn't argue. She was probably too tired for it.

"Let's go," Justin said. "You'll have clean clothes tonight, Lila."

"I guess."

As they headed down the hallway, Lila looked down at the Ring of Hygiene on Justin's right index finger. "What I wouldn't give for one of those right now! The guy said it cleaned your clothing too, right?"

"He did," Justin confirmed. "But a hot soak is just what I need right now."

"I hear that."

They entered the bathroom, and as the innkeeper had said, there was a partition to separate the two. Justin thought back to what Lila had said about bathing customs. Apparently, here in Highcliff, modesty was a thing.

On the men's side were three steaming copper tubs, and on the women's side, just one.

Justin bathed quickly. Once dried off, he left Lila there and returned to his room. Alistair and Eldrin had vacated the hall, though he could hear their voices talking low through the door.

Slowly, he crept up and pressed his ear to the oak. There was nothing at first, and for a moment, he believed he had been discovered.

That was when their conversation resumed. Justin heard Alistair speak first.

"You're right that Valdrik's men are likely waiting for us on the Queensroad. We have to be ready for that."

"Aye, they'll be expecting us to head straight to Belmora before heading north to Mont Elea. It's the fastest route. But it will also be the busiest, and that can be a sure shield. There are regular patrols of the Queensguard every few hours, and the Baron will think twice before trying something."

Alistair sighed. "I fear the Baron is desperate. He knows there's little time left before we reach Mont Elea and may risk a direct confrontation, even if we opt for the Queensroad. After all, if we make it to Mont Elea, his schemes will be foiled. And, of course, I'd rather avoid unnecessary bloodshed, especially if it puts Justin and Lila in danger. That incident with the dire wolves was far too close. Not to mention the Vault."

"Aye, all that's true. There's an old trader's road that breaks off from the Plainsway to Draegor's Keep. It's less traveled, and if need be, we can head east overland and lose them in the wild. My thinking is Valdrik's men might not think to look for us there, and by the time they realize where we went, it'll be too late for them to catch up."

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There was a pause before Alistair spoke again, his tone contemplative. "That could work. But what of supplies? We'll need provisions for the extended journey, and there are few villages up that way. That would take us through the Wilderlands of Baelor. That's rough country."

Eldrin's voice was reassuring. "We can stock up here in Highcliff, of course, which will see us a good part of the way. The hunting is good in the Wilderlands. It might slow us down a bit, but we won't want for anything. Winter is still two months away. Enough time to make Mont Elea before the hammer falls."

"It will take at least a couple of weeks longer than the obvious path," Alistair said. "And let's not forget, after the Wilderlands, there's the Brackenbog. One false step will see you sinking to your death. There are at least fifty miles of that before we reach the Gulfway. And if winter comes early, as it did five years ago, that alone could be enough to end us."

"Aye, all true. Two poisons, pick one. The faster Queensroad or the less-traveled route."

Alistair seemed to consider this. "All right. First light, we'll head to the market. We'll need supplies, whatever path we choose. We need to be discreet, though. Valdrik surely has eyes here." There was a pause. "What is it about the boy that the Baron would go through all this trouble? It's not just about me reporting him to the High Priest."

Eldrin hesitated for a moment. "That, I can't say. His story is...interesting. You should ask him."

"Humph. Perhaps I will, Ranger. But for now, rest is best. Both he and the Bard will need it for the long road ahead."

"Do you think she'll want to go her own way? If she does, would the Baron try to track her down?"

"That's hard to say. My guess is he'll put all of his resources toward finding Justin and me. Lila is not a concern of his. I will put the decision to her tomorrow, or perhaps this evening. She deserves to have a choice. Though it's clear she sees something in the young man."

"Aye, that she does." Eldrin's voice took on a more serious tone. "I'll keep an eye out for any suspicious activity."

Alistair's voice softened slightly. "Thank you. Your skills have been invaluable on this journey. However, like Lila, I know Valdrik is not your fight. When we make Mont Elea, I'll ensure you are properly rewarded."

"If what you've just told me about Valdrik is true, Paladin, then I would do this for free. However, the money would be welcome."

Justin heard movement within the room, so he pulled away from the door and crept down the hallway toward his own room. Thankfully, the floorboards made nary a sound.

He wondered at the part of the conversation he had missed, what Alistair had told Eldrin about Valdrik. He felt left out, and he wondered why this information wasn't for him or Lila. Clearly, Alistair esteemed the Ranger far more, perhaps because of his age or abilities.

Justin returned to his room, the exhaustion at last becoming impossible to ignore. He fell asleep to the sound of creaking wheels, horses, and distant conversations.

When Justin awoke, the evening light bathed the room in hues of gold. The noises of the city could still be heard, but they had softened somewhat with the fading of the daylight. He resisted the urge to fall back asleep, even if that was all he wanted. His head was throbbing something fierce, either from exhaustion or perhaps an aftereffect of the Grimroot extract. His bones were aching, and his muscles were stiff.

As he sat up in bed, the Voice entered his mind.

[You have reached Level 3. As you awake to greet the evening, things feel as if they are coming together…slowly. You know you'll get there, one step at a time.]

Justin felt reflective as he pondered his journey so far. Instead of resisting the introspection, he bathed in it for a few minutes until a new message broke him from his reverie.

[You have one attribute point to distribute.]

For the first time, Justin felt he faced a tough decision on where to distribute the point. So far, he'd gone all in on Charisma, which made sense for his character. As a Socialite, all of his bonuses depended on that attribute. At least, as far as he knew.

But after getting stunned twice by Zaramund and having a close call with the dire wolves—not to mention all the hard travel that required Endurance—he was torn. Maxing out Charisma as much as possible would make sense if he were in a large city, where he could count on guardsmen to keep the peace.

For the foreseeable future, at least, it didn't seem like that would happen. If Alistair and Eldrin's conversation was any sign, they had a long, tough road ahead of them.

His Cane of Valoria already granted him a +1 boost to Intellect and Charisma, which was nice, but he had the distinct feeling it wouldn't be enough.

So, that begged the question: where to put the point?

He could do with a boost in either Power or Endurance, which would help his survivability. From the conversation he'd overheard, if they ended up going up this Plainsway, or even running into Valdrik's men along the Queensroad, it might be the difference between life and death.

And yet…it still felt wrong.

He sighed and locked the point into Charisma.

[Your Charisma is now 14.]

And just like that, the tension of having made the wrong decision evaporated. Besides, he had plenty of banked experience points. If he really needed to put a point in something else next time, he had the full freedom to do so.

[As a Level 3 Socialite, you have unlocked your next class skill. Choose wisely! There is no going back.]

Justin considered both skills that were presented to him.

Dandy's Swagger: Perform a captivating strut that immediately fills you with confidence and swagger, increasing your resistance to the Fear effect. You and your allies gain +2 to Charisma for one minute, while enemies receive a -2 Charisma malus. This strut can halt conversations and cause enemies to hesitate, or, with a mocking flair, gain their attention. (Cooldown: 3 minutes)

Tailored Compliment: Deliver an endearing compliment that can soften hearts of stone! Recipients of the compliment treat you as if you have +5 Charisma for the duration of the conversation. (Cooldown: 2 minutes)

Justin pondered both skills, weighing their pros and cons with careful consideration.

Tailored Compliment seemed straightforward and powerful. The ability to craft a perfect compliment and gain a +5 Charisma boost could be invaluable in negotiations or when trying to gain favor with a specific person. And it would definitely be useful.

Dandy's Swagger offered a more dramatic and immediate effect. It would not only fill Justin with confidence, but also grant him +2 Charisma. Not only that, but it also inflicted a -2 Charisma malus on hostiles. That was an effective 4-point differential, making enemies more vulnerable to a Poison Barb. There was a clear synergy between the two skills: Dandy's Swagger to soften up their Charisma resistance so that Poison Barb would land more effectively.

While not as specific and powerful as a +5 Charisma Bonus, Dandy's Swagger had the potential to turn the tide in larger social confrontations and even in battles. The ability to halt conversations and make enemies hesitate was particularly intriguing, as it could create openings for strategic maneuvers or escape—something Justin could have sorely used several times. Then again, it said it could also be used as a way of getting attention, only adding to its utility. The cooldown of three minutes was slightly longer than Tailored Compliment, but it was still reasonable, given the power of the move.

Justin reflected on his journey so far. The Vault had tested his mettle in ways he hadn't expected. He had faced Zaramund's terrifying presence, endured the treacherous climb down from the Umbers, and survived the dire wolf attack. Each challenge underscored the importance of not just Charisma, but presence and confidence. The ability to make enemies hesitate could be the edge he needed on the unpredictable and dangerous path ahead.

Dandy's Swagger aligned with the essence of his Socialite class. It was about more than just words; it was about presence, confidence, and the ability to command attention.

He locked in Dandy's Swagger.

[You have chosen: Dandy's Swagger. May your strut own every room you enter.]

Instantly, Justin felt a surge of confidence wash over him as the knowledge of the skill entered him. He knew he had made the right choice. The road ahead was uncertain, but with his new skill, he felt more prepared to face whatever challenges came his way.

He went to the mirror, looking at his unkempt, almost wild hair. Despite this, he was shocked by the transformation.

He hadn't lost ten pounds, as previously supposed. He had lost at least twenty, and maybe even as much as thirty.

It wasn't just exercise and fresh air. Something else was going on, too. Maybe it was his class or Charisma attribute, or perhaps both.

His face was thinner. His double chin was still discernible but reduced. A jawline was taking shape, and it was magnificent. His facial hair was a right mess; he hadn't taken care of himself in months, and it was even worse now. He looked better than he had in years, perhaps all the way back to his childhood.

He observed the silver Ring of Hygiene on his finger. Perhaps it was time to test out its capabilities.

He wasn't sure how it worked, but he looked in the mirror, imagining a clean-shaven face and a classic haircut, with a modern twist. He wanted the top to be long enough to have some volume to create a slight wave, parted to the right. Overall, he wished for a clean, polished look, but with enough length on top to style it a bit.

As soon as he was done with that image, he confirmed it with a mental click. An aura of yellow light surrounded him, making it impossible to see just what was happening. After a moment, it dissipated, and Justin stared in astonishment at his reflection.

His auburn hair was perfectly styled, just as he had envisioned, with the top long enough to boast a gentle wave, neatly parted to the right. His face was clean-shaven, highlighting his newly defined jawline, and his skin seemed fresher, almost glowing with health. The transformation made him look years younger, a stark contrast to the unkempt appearance he had grown accustomed to over the past years.

There in the mirror stood not merely Justin Talemaker, former NEET, recluse, and dweller of basements. There stood a proper gentleman: well-groomed, revitalized, brimming with confidence and, yes, even aplomb.

With a satisfied nod to his reflection and a sly wink, for he couldn't help himself, he twirled his cane and stepped out of the room, his stride carrying the weight of his newfound self-assurance, his cane clacking merrily on the wooden floorboards.

For the first time, he looked and felt every part of the Socialite.