(Book 1 Complete!) Side Quest [Isekai / LitRPG]

A wooden palisade wall surrounded the town's limits, each sharpened spike of different lengths. A few butted out at harsh angles, and even though the entire wall looked new, those appeared especially recent.

As they approached, Logan stayed alert for any sign Senna might be part of a cult trying to sacrifice him to resurrect some dragon god. That seemed too fitting to the beginning point of a game.

The village's single guard was a man with a bucket hat chewing on a stalk of wheat. After seeing that, Logan's worries lessened. Beyond those palisades sat basically a real-life Renaissance Fair.

Packed dirt paths wound through a cluster of thatched-roof buildings, some of which looked like houses, while others sported hanging wooden signs embossed with stencils and names. At first the words looked angular and foreign, but after a moment they resolved into English. Had the System done that? Was he actually speaking and hearing English or some other language?

A chicken clucked just inside the gate, almost exiting town if not for the farmer-looking guard nudging it back inside with the butt of his spear. That weapon contrasted with his rustic appearance. With a polished wood shaft and a spiraled iron band securing the tip to the haft, it looked military grade, whereas the man held it as if it were a pitchfork.

But Logan wasn't in a position to judge others' appearances. The guard's baffled gaze was an unnecessary reminder of what he himself looked like. Tattered flannel pajama pants, no shirt, a hand-fashioned prowler-fur FannyPack with a peashooter tucked into his vine belt, and claws hanging loose at his fists, clinking like a shaman's bone jewelry. His footwraps had already disintegrated.

Logan didn't wilt, but offered a friendly nod, as if he didn't look like a wild man. Senna greeted the guard, too, and he seemed to recognize her.

"Met him in the woods," she said. "He's trying to join the Adventurers' Guild."

The guard nodded and sighed, seeming to accept that as sufficient. From Senna's earlier explanation, the guild's presence was a recent addition, and based on the newer state of the wooden defenses, Logan figured Gnashridge Heights was seeing a fair bit of change lately.

As Logan stepped over the clueless hen, he asked Senna about the fresh construction. "What are they so worried about? Dragons?" He kept his tone light and hoped he wasn't giving himself away.

She raised a brow at him. "You really think that would hold back a dragon?" She laughed. "You're weird. Nobody even knows where the dragons went since leaving Emberholt." She sighed. "I wanted to go there one day and see them, but I guess that won't be happening… No, no dragons. But this town has a gnome."

Logan perked up at the mention of a gnome. The System prevented him from choosing that race because he was their summoned champion. That was his best lead to getting answers about how he came to the System.

While Senna seemed harmless, he couldn't tell if she was bluffing about dragon ignorance. If he could trust anybody, it would be the gnome. After that, he could decide about whether to join the Adventurers' Guild.

"The defenses," Senna said as they passed the gap in the palisades, "is because of the higher-level beasts. That's part of the reason the Adventurers' Guild set up here, too. I don't know if you saw any, but there's a blight pushing stronger animals out of the valley. Apparently some monsters have been seen in the area too, but there isn't a history of mana scars." She shrugged. "Mages Guild stuff, right?"

Logan kept his face blank and nodded, but inside, his brain tried to piece it all together. She had casually mentioned monsters, and had distinguished those from beasts.

He wanted to know more, but had already pushed it with asking Senna stupid questions that she considered common sense. Once I find the gnome, I can feel comfortable asking more.

On the main dirt road, they stepped aside as a tall, thin man with knobby knees approached, his hand-drawn cart of empty milk jugs and crates clanking loudly. The aloof villager nodded at them, then did a double-take at Logan's shirtless body.

Logan blushed and scratched his eyebrow to cover his eye, but Senna snickered.

"This road takes you to Seemless Seams. Small shop, not a huge offering, but I'm sure they have a shirt."

"Thanks. I could definitely use one." Logan palmed his forehead.

"What?" Senna asked.

"I… I lost my money to a group of pesky flicktail squirrels." It wasn't the most convincing lie, but it avoided summoning crystals.

Senna burst out laughing. "I guess you won't be getting a shirt after all!"

"You mentioned contracts, right? Do those pay anything?"

He had to wait for the tears to stop rolling down Senna's face. When she got it out of her system, she waved Logan to a stop. "Here," she said between the few lingering chuckles. She slid her arm from one strap on her gear pack and swung it to her side. She opened it and Logan bit back his surprise when a gray light shone from within it. Despite her jovial demeanor, she gave him a hard stare as if he were being nosy, and she blocked his view with a shoulder.

Logan looked away, feeling as if he had just invaded her privacy.

When she resettled her pack, she extended a palm with a handful of coins.

"Really? I'm not sure I can repay you."

She waved a hand. "It'll take time before you can join the guild and take on bounties." She patted her pack. "I'm headed a few doors down to the apothecary. They had a bounty on those mavenberries, so I'm getting paid."

"Ah, so you probably need them back." Logan pulled them from his pockets, and held back from asking why he'd had to burden his pockets when she had that strange bag. "They're looking for moonbloom nodules too?"

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"Just the mavenberries. Moonbloom is for me. I have a theory I want to test." She tucked the ingredients away, and presented her palm once more, still with the coins in it. "Consider this your fare for helping. And I'm sure we'll bump into each other soon, so you can buy me some mead or something at the tavern."

"Thanks, I'll try to pay you back when I can." Until he found the gnome, he wanted to scope out the town and see just how accurate her story had been so far. Dragon cult was still a possibility.

They parted ways in front of the clothing store. The facade was like a classic tudor, with whitewash on the outside and wooden ribbing that doubled as structural support and stylistic flair.

It was better kept than its neighbors, and cozy-looking mannequins filled the windows. The wooden figures re-emphasized the medieval theme, complete with rough-spun fabrics and dark-hued bodices with gilt patterned details. Colorful fluffy pleats gathered at the shoulders and tapered where they met the arm. Simple embroidery accentuated the edges of the rounded rectangular cut.

I hope they have men's clothing too. Logan quickly dismissed the image of him dressed as a bar wench.

The moment he walked in, the proprietor gasped at his appearance and raised four fingers to her lips.

"Sorry," said Logan. He extended his palm to present the coins, his prowler claws clattering with the motion. "I don't suppose you have a shirt for sale? And maybe some shoes?"

She nodded away her shock before retreating into a back room. After Logan waited awkwardly and avoided making eye contact with the one other patron in the store, she returned.

She extended a rolled tunic and a pair of simple, leather shoes as if presenting a courier's note and then paused when she saw the money in his hand. "I'm sorry dear, it's ten coppers."

Logan glanced down; he only had seven.

"Oh."

She licked her lips, looking worried on his behalf. "You have no other shirt?"

He shook his head.

"I'll take the seven, then."

"Ismelda," said the other patron. "You can't afford giving discounts to every one of these adventurers. Not while you're still mourning Roan." He laid a hand on Logan's shoulder before quickly drawing back. Logan was still tacky with sap. The man pulled out a few more coins. "Here, this will cover the boy."

Both she and he thanked the kind patron, and Logan refrained from testing their charity by asking for a pair of pants. It sounded like this Roan fellow might have been a husband or a son. He could return when he earned the money.

He put the tunic on and checked himself in a mirror in the back corner of the room. The shirt hung low, halfway to his knees, and fit like a pillowcase. A brown leather cord was sewn at the center to the back, though, with two beads at either end. The length of cord was enough to wrap around himself twice, which tightened the shirt around his waist. He flashed his mirror image a debonair grin. With the the loose cut and his tattered pant legs, he looked like a shipwrecked pirate.

After thanking the shopowner and patron one more time, Logan exited. On the street, he still earned stares, but at least they looked driven by curiosity rather than repulsion.

A hay-laden horsedrawn cart passed by at a lazy pace, and Logan stepped to the side. At his feet, another chicken clucked as Logan almost stepped on it. It squawked, flapping its wings just enough to reach the cart's rim and hitch a free hayride. Apparently it wasn't the only chicken with that idea, because another nested in the straw already.

Not far down was the apothecary that Senna had entered. He peeked in the windows, but she wasn't there. A fresh basket of mavenberries sat on the counter, though, and the cheery apothecary reached for one, placing it into a mortar and pestle. Beside it was a propped up slate with chalk writing declaring antidotes for sale, right next to a bunch of empty bottles.

"So she wasn't lying about that."

The road led him to a wide central square, replete with tattered flags hanging from the far corners to a central pole. A handful of merchants tended to blankets displaying jewelry and trinkets or hand carts that had been converted into countertop displays.

At the open market's edge, there was a large constructed sign with various pieces of parchment pinned to its cork facade. The sign stood out in stark contrast for its refined gilding against the humdrum surroundings. Even if not for that, grandiose words etched into the decorated arched top advertised the Adventurers' Guild.

He ambled over to it. Two notes were scrawled in the same handwriting, with an empty space where a note appeared to have been recently removed. The apothecary filed the two notes present: one a request for a pound of prowler scat, and another for 30 unbudded Luminthistle heads. He curled a lip at the manure requirement, but shook it off. He figured the missing note had been Senna's bounty for the Mavenberries.

He was feeling better about the town, now. The Adventurers' Guild indeed seemed to be a newer presence, and the shopowner and generous patron didn't give off cannibal-cultist vibes. Next stop: the gnome.

He walked to the center of the square, where a hand-crafted signpost stood. Boards of various sizes jutted out in different directions.

It correctly labeled the shops behind him and pointed east toward the inn, where Senna likely had gone after wrapping up her visit to the apothecary. Several same-sized signs indicated other points of interest, but one board stood out as a newer addition.

In large letters, it read Mariv, neatly centered on the post and pointing northwest. Cramped just below it, in even larger letters and clearly tacked on to save space despite being off center, were the words Adventurers' Guild, pointing in the same direction.

When he asked a sleepy-looking villager about the gnome, they gave him a funny look and directed him to the Mariv signpost.

The trail took him to a fork that divided around a rickety shed with a fence surrounding a grassy area behind it. A woman in a gray dress and white apron stood with her back to him. She occupied the door frame, but wasn't entering the shack. She appeared to be counting something. Logan waited for her to finish, hoping to ask her which path led to the gnome before she fully entered, but fortunately, she turned around and closed the door.

She offered him a pleasant smile. "Oh, hello. Would you mind me doing me a favor?"

Logan faltered at the strange conversation starter.

"Er, sorry, I'm kind of busy. Uh, I was actually wondering if you could direct me toward the gnome. Mariv? I heard he lives down this way."

She pressed her lips with slight disappointment that made Logan feel guilty, but then she brightened. "Of course. He's such a kind soul. He's been nothing but helpful to me ever since he moved here a year ago." She smiled fondly in memory. "The chickens love him." She snapped back to the present and glanced over her shoulder at the shed door.

Logan held his breath. He could see where this was going. He interrupted the woman's fiddling with her hands, hoping to steer the conversation before it veered into some kind of favor he wasn't ready to promise. Not until he met with this Mariv. "I don't suppose you could point me toward him?"

She nodded slowly, still eyeing her door. Then she turned to him with a beaming smile. "Gladly! And you see, my chickens… some have seemed to wander off." Logan's mind drifted to the various chickens he had seen at the gate and hitchhiking with the horse. "I don't know how they got out, but my sweet little Louie is often between here and Mariv's house. He has the most beautiful brown feathers. Louie, not Mariv. If you're going that way and see the little guy—uh, still Louie I'm talking about—perhaps you could fetch him and bring him here on your way back?" Her nervous smile widened, as if she was testing unknown waters. "And any other of my sweeties you happen across? I would pay coin for each chicken you return."

Logan perked up at the mention of coin. If this chicken was where he was heading anyway, he supposed he could oblige the woman. Plus, he needed coin to buy pants and pay back Senna's small loan.

She gave her name as Liorna, and Logan asked her for the details.

New quest available!
Retrieve the chickens.
Reward: 10 copper coins per chicken.
Accept?
YES/NO