All in Charisma (A LitRPG/Isekai Adventure)

Inside, Justin found himself in a dimly lit common room. The fire in the hearth cast a warm glow on the wooden tables and benches that filled the space. A few patrons were scattered throughout the room, nursing drinks and conversing in hushed tones. The air was certainly different here than at the Drunken Pixie, but despite the shabbier interior, the owner seemed to keep the establishment clean and in good working order.

Taking a deep breath, Justin approached the bar, where an older man with grizzled hair and a bushy beard stood wiping a mug. He looked up as Justin approached, his eyes appraising.

"What can I get you, lad?" the man asked gruffly.

"Just a drink and some information, if you have it."

"Drinks are cheap. Information is pricier, depending on the request."

What kind of drinks did they have in a place like this? Probably not a Harvey Wallbanger.

Justin sighed. "Ale is fine."

The barkeep nodded, sliding a tankard of dark-hued liquid across the counter. "That'll be five coppers."

Justin fished the coins out of his pouch and handed it over. Taking a swig of the ale, he savored the bitter taste as it cooled his tongue. Judging by the price of the goods he had purchased, a copper seemed to have about the same value as a U.S. dollar. That would be his prevailing assumption until proven otherwise.

"I'm looking for some advice," Justin began. "I'm new around here, and I need to figure out a way to make some money."

The barkeep raised an eyebrow. He had no real reason to help him, but maybe his Magnetic Presence boon would come in handy.

"What skills do you have?"

Justin hesitated. "I'm a Socialite." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Level 1."

"You have a class?" the barkeep asked, a bit surprised. "Well, that helps you out quite a bit. Take on a few skills and boons, and you'll be all right."

"You speak as if having a class is a rare thing," Justin said, taking another sip. "I thought everyone of age had a class."

The man looked at him as if he had grown a second head. "Well, classes aren't easy to come by. Maybe it's different where you're from. But by the time you're my age, and half your life is spent, well, the cons of going into debt for one outweigh the pros. Count yourself lucky, lad. You've got your whole life ahead of you."

Justin frowned. If classes were indeed rare in this world, maybe he should be careful about advertising the fact.

"Would there happen to be a library in town? There's a bit of information I would like to look up."

"Well, the Church is your best bet. I believe they have a clergyman with the Scholar class. Silas Penwell is his name. He'd be the one to talk to. But access to knowledge like that doesn't come cheap."

"Where I'm from, libraries are paid for by taxes."

The man chuckled. "Well, I haven't heard of that. Where are you from, anyway?"

Again, Justin had fumbled, and now he was stuck answering an awkward question. "Belmora," he said smoothly. "Anyhow, if you have any leads on a job, I could pay you back with further business."

The man shrugged. "Besides your class, do you have any other talents or education? Can you read and write? Can you do math?"

"I can," Justin confirmed. "I have some book learning, but truth be told, I don't have much in the way of practical abilities. But I can talk to people."

With that last part, it felt as if he were lying through his teeth. But who was to say that wasn't true? In his old life, he was a bumbling fool who couldn't string two words together to anyone who even slightly intimidated him.

But here, he had more important concerns. Talking was easier now, and his thoughts were strangely clear. Either it was the fresh air, his class, or the endless dangers making pesky things like social anxiety take a back seat. Now, he had anxieties of a different sort.

The barkeep considered this for a moment, stroking his beard. "Well, there are a few options that might suit you. You could look for a job as a merchant's assistant, helping with negotiations and deals, or balancing the books. Or you could try your hand at being a courier or a scribe. People are always in need of someone who can deliver messages or write letters."

"Hmm. That might suit me."

"It's not as bad as you think," the barkeep confirmed. "You've got something of an education, and that puts you ahead of most. Aim for something that gets you at least a silver a day."

"Is that enough to live on?"

"Maybe not in Belmora, where you're from. But here in Mistwatch, it's doable. If you want something a little more, the Royal Mail is always hiring couriers. It's dangerous, especially these days. In a town like this, the official mail only goes out once a fortnight. But sometimes people or businesses need their parcels faster and are willing to pay through the nose for it. You might make ten silvers a week doing work like that, up to twenty, depending on the danger and how many jobs you take on."

"Twenty? Now we're talking."

"Granted, a lot of your pay would have to go into financing your own coach, horse, and perhaps a guard or two. It's a hard business. My advice is to try to work in the post office. A lot safer."

"I can't just deliver parcels by myself? It can't be that bad."

The barkeep chuckled. "You'd just be asking for it, even on the roads. Especially on the roads. At least hire a guard."

Justin thought back to those goblins and realized the barkeep might be right. "Thank you for the advice; I appreciate it."

The barkeep waved a hand dismissively. "Don't mention it, lad. Just remember that sometimes, it's not what you know, but who you know. Make the right friends, and doors will open for you."

With that piece of wisdom, Justin finished his drink and left the inn. He had no friends, so that advice was probably useless.

Truth be told, he hadn't ever held a job in his life. His mom always got on him for that. She always told him to at least do something, even if it was working at McDonald's, but his pride would never allow it.

Looking back, he realized it would have been good for him. He'd gotten more sun and nature in the past couple of days than he had in the last couple of years.

Maybe even the last couple of decades.

Here, though, he didn't have to be his old self. He could be whoever he wanted, and there was no one to say boo. There was power and freedom in that.

He would start by making connections, forging alliances, and learning everything he could about the people and places around him. And he would begin right here in the town of Mistwatch.

He headed back toward the town square, looking at his map all the while. The town wasn't large, so it took about two minutes to find the post office.

He strolled through the front door, the bell above the entrance announcing his arrival. The room was simple, with a long wooden counter at the end. Behind it, rows of pigeonholes were filled with letters and parcels, each one meticulously sorted by destination. Brass placards labeled each slot with names like Silverton, Belmora, Windfall, Draegor's Keep, Caroway, and Highcliff. A middle-aged woman with a strict bun and spectacles looked up from her ledger as he approached.

"Can I help you?" she inquired, her tone brisk.

"I've heard you need workers," Justin replied, his voice steady. "I'm here to offer my services."

She arched an eyebrow, her gaze appraising him from head to toe, taking in his basic clothing. "Experience?"

Well, all those fetch quests in Aether Quest probably didn't count as experience, but Justin could pretend they did. He had to hope his 11 in Charisma was enough to carry him through.

He put on a confident smile. "Yes, madam. I've handled many tasks—delivering urgent messages, transporting valuable items through hostile areas, and navigating dangerous territories to complete critical assignments. I've worked for high-profile clients—merchants, mostly. Back in my last job, the routes weren't easy, but I made sure the deliveries were always on time and intact. As someone with the Socialite class, I always know the right words to get out of a hairy situation, and I'm skilled at handling high-profile clients."

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The clerk listened, her eyes widening with a mix of surprise and concern as he spoke. By the time he finished, she looked almost wary. "Well, can you give an example of a hard assignment you've completed? Do you at least have a letter of reference?"

Justin hesitated for only a moment before replying. "Unfortunately, I don't have a letter of reference with me. My last employer was...somewhat secretive. They were involved in sensitive matters, and discretion was paramount. We agreed that any formal documentation could compromise that discretion. But I'm happy to tell you about one of my most challenging assignments."

Then, with skill he didn't even know he possessed, he wove an epic tale regarding a specific fetch quest from Aether Quest that he had to complete. "There was a time when I was tasked with delivering a rare vial of medicine to an orcish village deep in the mountains. The village was suffering from a terrible plague, and the medicine was their only hope. The path was treacherous. Blizzards and landslides made travel nearly impossible. But I knew the importance of my mission."

Justin watched in amazement as the clerk's bespectacled eyes widened while she was rapt by the story.

Good. This was going better than he had expected. Normally, he wasn't one to spin wild tales, but he could make an exception in cases of survival and, of course, landing a job.

"At one point, I was ambushed by a group of bandits who wanted the vial for themselves, thinking it was something valuable they could sell. I talked my way out of the situation, using my charisma to convince them it was cursed and would bring them nothing but misfortune."

That actually hadn't been what happened. In Aether Quest, Justin had used his "Hammer Storm" ability to make short work of the miscreants, but she didn't need to know that.

"Anyway, they let me go, and I continued on. Despite the odds, I reached the village just in time, and the medicine saved countless lives."

The clerk's expression softened as she listened to his story, her initial wariness giving way to a mixture of admiration and relief. She actually believed him. "Ye gods...that's quite the tale. Well, we're desperate for help, and most don't want to take the Silver Road these days..."

Sensing an opening, Justin swallowed hard and leaned in slightly. "I'm aware of the risks, and I assure you, I've risked far more. There's no better person for the job than I."

"Well, I'd be remiss not to tell you first that we have something safer, if you prefer. I actually could use someone to do the sorting. My junior clerk quit last week."

"Pay?"

"Fifty coppers a day," she said evenly.

Justin's face fell. "That's poverty wages! I have a class, so I'm aiming for a silver a day. Just think of the value I can offer, especially as I unlock more abilities."

She chuckled drily. "Even I don't make that, young man! We need help, but we'll pay you the market rate for it. Any old Jack could do it."

"I'm not any old Jack; trust me. I want something more. I've got a fire in my belly, and nothing can stop me! Tell me more about this courier job."

She looked him over once more, then sighed. "All right. You mentioned experience working for high-profile clients, and your Socialite class would be helpful there. I've got an important parcel that needs to be delivered to Baron Valdrik in Silverton. Normally, I wouldn't give it to someone as untested as you, and without an official reference. But I'm getting desperate because he can be quite…demanding. You deliver it and head to the postmaster there, and you'll get five silvers. Sound good?"

Justin blinked. The Baron of Silverton? This didn't sound like a simple delivery.

But then again, if he were successful, it would give him a good amount of money. Five silvers was a considerable sum. With one job, he'd make ten times what he'd earn doing sorting. Walking fifty miles to Silverton would take two days at the most. Plus, it would get him to a bigger city where his class might be more useful.

Then again, the clerk had made the mistake of saying she was desperate...

"I'll do it," he said. "But I want ten silvers."

"Five," the clerk said firmly. "This rate is set by the client and is non-negotiable. Sorry."

No wonder no one had taken it yet. "Well, you mentioned no one wanted to take it, and it's time-sensitive. Either your client can wait, or he can raise his bid."

"I sympathize and actually agree with you. However, this client is particular that the pay be no more than five silvers. It's yours if you want it."

Justin sighed. "Very well. I'll do it."

She blinked in surprise before recovering. She handed him a small package, tied up with twine and sealed with red wax. The weight felt right in his hands. Plus, it got him paid more while getting him to a bigger city.

"That's your seal," she explained. "It's enchanted; once accepted by the intended recipient, it'll log with the Universal Ledger. Once that's done, head to the local post office for your pay." There was something in her eyes that suggested she knew he'd been stretching the truth. "Look, normally I wouldn't give this to you. A lot of couriers have gone missing lately. All of them have had one thing in common."

"What?" Justin asked, curious despite himself.

"They refused to hire help."

Justin smirked. "At these rates, I can see why."

The clerk was not amused. "The Mercenary Guild is just down the street. Please hire someone and don't be too picky."

Justin nodded, placing the parcel carefully in his pack. "Understood."

As he left the post office, the interface in the corner of his vision flashed with a new message.

Job Gained: The Baron's Parcel

Deliver the parcel to the Baron of Silverton. Upon successful delivery, go to the Silverton Post Office to collect your pay.

Pay: 5 Silver Marks

Experience: 50

Justin couldn't help but smile. This wasn't just about delivering a parcel—it was a challenge, a game.

Or at the very least, something to do. There was the risk, of course, but the prospect of five silvers and the experience points was too enticing to pass up.

He retrieved his map and made his way to the Mercenary Guild, just down the street.

So far, his interactions had granted him very little experience. He hadn't gotten any from his conversation with the clerk, probably because he hadn't negotiated a higher payment.

Soon enough, he arrived. The Guild was smaller than he'd expected, just a simple door that was open to the street. For a town the size of Mistwatch, it was a minor affair, quiet, with only two armored soldiers sitting at a nearby table, each nursing a drink. Both leered at him dangerously.

But sitting in the opposite corner, almost hidden from view, was a young woman, perhaps in her mid-twenties like him. She had a lean face, hawkish features, and hollow cheeks that spoke of more than a few missed meals. Her wide green eyes, framed by shoulder-length brown hair, watched him curiously. While the other two men wore heavy armor and carried swords and shields, she had nothing but disheveled clothing and several knives strapped to her belt.

Justin approached the main counter, manned by a burly orc with green skin and pointed tusks—a sight that threw him for a loop. It was the first time he'd seen a non-human in this world. Or really, ever, in this world and in his own reality. It should have surprised him, but it felt oddly natural.

As Justin cleared his throat, he felt the weight of battle-hardened eyes on him.

"What can I do for you, sir?" the orc asked gruffly, his expression disinterested.

"I need protection for the Silver Road journey. As far as Silverton."

"Very good. What kind of protection?"

"The good kind."

"Well, it can be had if your pockets are deep enough."

Justin considered for a moment. If he paid even two silvers, it would cut into his profits significantly. But it was still more than what the junior clerk position offered.

"I've got two silvers to pay," he began, trying to sound confident. "On arrival, of course."

Laughter erupted from the table where the two men sat, and Justin felt his cheeks burn.

The orc grinned, revealing more of his yellowed tusks. "Two silvers? You want your hire to fight with a twig? No one here will risk the Silver Road for anything less than five, especially these days!"

Justin had hoped to negotiate, but this was more than he'd expected. "I can go as high as two and a half."

The orc guffawed. "Sod off, little boy. This clearly isn't for you."

"Never mind, then. I suppose I'll have to go to Silverton on my own. Good day."

Justin turned toward the exit, feeling deflated. If the post office was only paying five silvers, the risk would make the job almost pointless if he hired help. He felt a surge of anger because the post office clerk clearly knew that but still foisted the unwanted parcel on him anyway.

He'd been played for a fool. This Baron had probably set a lowball bid, hoping some desperate rube would come along and take it. But that still didn't make sense, because if the Baron actually wanted the damnable package, wouldn't he set a reasonable bid to make sure it arrived safely?

In the end, Justin had to shake his head. People's actions didn't always make sense, but it was certainly aggravating when they affected him.

Emerging into the sunlight, he paused. Maybe he should just humble himself and take that sorting job at the post office.

But now that he had accepted the parcel, something about it felt strangely binding. It was a job, and a job had to at least be attempted. Otherwise, he'd be stuck with this parcel for the rest of his days.

Strangely, he didn't care about the Baron, but something about this package called out to him. It needed to be delivered, and he would be the one to do it. It was something to latch onto in this uncertain world. Plus, getting to a bigger town was his goal. A goal he couldn't fulfill so long as he stayed here in Mistwatch.

Just as he was about to turn around and head for the town gate, a hand grabbed his arm, and he nearly jumped out of his skin.

He spun around, meeting the intense gaze of the young woman from the guild. Her striking green eyes sized him up. Justin found her presence unsettling, but she didn't seem to mean him any immediate harm, despite the knives at her belt.

"Lila Fairwind," she said, holding out a hand with a winning smile. "Those guildies don't know an opportunity when they see one. I'll escort you to Silverton for three silvers."

Justin looked her up and down doubtfully. "Where's your armor?"

"I'm a Bard, Level 1," she said. "We don't use armor. I can tell you've fallen on hard times. We have that much in common." She drew one of her knives quickly, twirling it in her fingers. "Name?"

Justin's eyes widened slightly at the sight. "Justin Talemaker. Socialite. Are you good with those knives? You're Level 1, after all."

She smirked. "Well, it's a little-known fact that Bards are almost as good with knives as they are with music. Trust me, not a hair on your head will be harmed."

"Uh-huh," Justin said, still skeptical. "And you want three silvers?"

"It's a fair price. So, what do you say?"

He hesitated. The path ahead would undoubtedly be perilous. In most games Justin had played, Bards were known for their songs and musical skills, not martial prowess, but Lila seemed capable enough.

Plus, he had no other options.

"All right, here's the deal," Justin said. "I have half a mind to do it myself, but I'll be honest: I have little in the way of combat skills. But if I hire you for three silvers, there's no point in me doing the job. So, how about we split the money? Two and a half once the job is done."

Lila considered, then nodded. "Deal. You won't regret it!"

Justin hoped not. In the corner of Justin's vision, his interface blinked with a notification.

[You have gained 2 experience points. Your experience stands at 24/200.]

[Lila has requested to join the party.]

Justin accepted with a mental push.

[Lila has joined the party. You have assumed the role of party leader. You have shared a job with Lila: The Baron's Parcel.]

"It's official," she said, a bright smile spreading across her face. "Ready when you are."

"Let's move out," Justin said.

The unlikely duo set forth for the town gate.