Welcome to Lyrthorne
The dirt road widened as they walked, the dense curtain of trees peeling back to reveal rolling hills. From somewhere ahead came the faint clink of hammer on anvil, the muffled chatter of distant voices, and the comforting scent of baking bread drifting on the breeze.
Emily inhaled deeply, almost wistfully. "Oh, that smells like heaven."
"It smells like carbs," Noah said, patting his stomach. "Which, right now, is about the same thing."
The sun hung low, casting warm gold over the landscape. Lyrthorne came into view gradually — first the faint outline of a watchtower, then the sharp silhouette of pointed rooftops, and finally the stone wall encircling the town like a protective arm.
Noah's system pinged again:
[Approaching Lyrthorne – Population: 4,127]
[Notable Facilities: Blacksmith, General Market, Adventurers' Guild, Alchemy Hall, Tavern x3, Bakery x1]
Emily's system chimed a second later, much more dramatically:
[Behold! Civilization! A place where people bathe, roofs don't leak, and you can actually buy things instead of stealing them from monsters!]
"Can you not make us sound like criminals?" Emily muttered.
[Hey, I'm just saying you could have taken more berries. You left at least 12 behind.]
Noah chuckled but didn't comment. He was watching the guards at the gate — two men in chainmail, each holding a spear. Their postures were relaxed but alert, and they eyed newcomers with the casual suspicion of people who've seen too many travelers pass through.
"Let me do the talking," Noah said quietly.
Emily raised an eyebrow. "You think you're more charming than me?"
"Not more charming. Just less likely to blurt out that we're from another world."
"…Fair."
As they reached the gate, one guard stepped forward. "Purpose of your visit?"
Noah smiled politely. "Passing through. Looking for food, supplies, maybe some work."
The guard's eyes flicked to Emily, then to the pizza boxes under Noah's arm. "And what's in the—"
"Bread," Noah said smoothly.
Emily coughed loudly to cover a laugh.
The man studied them for a moment longer, then nodded. "Behave yourselves, keep your weapons sheathed in public, and don't cause trouble." He stepped aside.
And just like that, they were inside.
....
Lyrthorne was alive with motion. Cobblestone streets twisted between tightly packed buildings, each with its own quirks — colorful shutters, hanging flower baskets, carved wooden signs. Merchants called out their wares from stalls: fresh produce, bolts of cloth, gleaming tools. The air was thick with scents — warm bread, roasting meat, something sweet and spiced from a bakery down the road.
Emily's eyes darted everywhere at once. "This is… incredible. It's like walking into one of those fantasy towns from the games we used to play."
"Yeah," Noah said, scanning the crowd. "Only difference is, here we don't have a 'pause' button."
A blacksmith's hammer rang in the distance, and Noah's radar began to ping faintly — metals all around him. Gold, iron, copper, tin… the mental map lit up like a festival lantern.
[Recommendation: Go to the bakery. Buy a cake. Put the cake in your inventory. Then eat the cake later and pretend it's magic.]
"Why do I feel like my system is more invested in pastries than my survival?" Emily muttered.
They stopped first at the general market to pick up essentials — a water flask, a small pack of dried meat, a roll of bandages. Noah handed over a silver coin from the small pouch they'd looted off a goblin earlier.
"You're paying?" Emily asked.
"Yeah. You can cover the next one."
She smirked. "Sure. I'll just conjure some gold. Oh wait… gold isn't in the first thirty elements."
Her voice dropped as a thought occurred to her. "Actually… I could conjure pure oxygen."
Noah gave her a side-eye. "Please tell me you're not planning to set anything on fire."
"…Not yet."
They wandered next into a quieter street, the crowd thinning. On one corner stood a squat stone building with a wooden sign swinging gently in the breeze: Adventurers' Guild. Through the open door came the low hum of conversation and the occasional clink of mugs.
Emily hesitated. "Think we're ready for something like this?"
Noah shrugged. "We've survived goblins, berry-picking, and your system's sense of humor. I think we'll manage."
Inside, the guild was warm and dimly lit, the air smelling faintly of ale and wood smoke. A large notice board stood against one wall, covered in parchment sheets — requests for monster hunts, missing item recoveries, escort jobs.
A young woman with auburn hair sat at the front desk, writing in a ledger. She looked up as they approached. "New faces. Looking to register?"
Noah nodded. "Yes."
She handed them each a small crystal orb. "Hold it in your palm, focus on your name, and it'll record your basic stats."
Emily shot Noah a look. "You realize this means we're giving them our info?"
"Yeah. But in exchange, we get paid work and protection in town."
They each took turns with the orb. A faint blue glow pulsed as it absorbed the data, then the woman retrieved them and wrote the details into her ledger.
"Alright," she said, sliding two bronze badges across the desk. "Welcome to the Adventurers' Guild. You're starting at F-rank. Complete jobs to raise your rank. F-rank means simple errands and low-risk hunts. Pay isn't much, but it's steady."
Noah pocketed his badge. Emily twirled hers between her fingers.
"What's the easiest job you've got?" Emily asked.
The woman smiled faintly. "Lost cat."
Emily blinked. "…Not exactly the hero's journey I imagined."
They decided to skip the cat hunt for now and instead find an inn. The Golden Hearth sat at the edge of the market square, its sign painted with a roaring fireplace. Inside, the warmth and smell of cooking stew made Emily's shoulders sag with relief.
The innkeeper, a plump man with a thick beard, gave them a once-over. "Room for two? That'll be eight silver for three nights, meals included."
Noah paid without arguing. The room was small but clean, with two narrow beds and a single window looking out over the street. Emily dropped her pack and flopped backward onto the mattress.
"I might never move again," she groaned.
"Not until dinner," Noah said.
Dinner was a simple affair — thick stew with chunks of potato and meat, warm bread, and mugs of something vaguely like cider. They ate in companionable silence, watching the ebb and flow of patrons.
Halfway through the meal, Noah's system pinged.
[Metallic signature detected: Unrefined mithril ore. Distance: 612 meters northwest. Altitude: -5 meters.]
Noah's spoon paused midair. "That's underground."
Emily leaned closer. "Mithril? Like… the super-strong fantasy metal?"
"Apparently."
Her system chose that moment to chime in.
[Ohhh, that's interesting. You know what's near that location? A black-market auction house. You should definitely poke your noses in there.]
Noah frowned. "That sounds like a bad idea."
Emily grinned. "Which means we're probably going to do it."
They exchanged a look — the kind they'd perfected over years of friendship — and both knew the night wasn't going to end with just a peaceful sleep.
....
Emily suddenly asked, "Hey, you know… we don't really have mining tools to mine mithril, and now that I think about it… we can ask the owner of the cat if it had a collar or something with metal on it. Then we could use your radar!"
Noah's eyes lit up like someone had just handed him free pizza. "PERFECT!"
It was almost ridiculous — they'd just registered at the Adventurers' Guild, skipped the "find the cat" job in favor of dinner, and now were willingly diving into it for a completely unrelated reason. But if Emily's hunch was right, the collar might act like a beacon for Noah's radar, giving them a clean lead on the animal without having to rely on luck or alleyway stakeouts.
"Alright," Noah said, standing so abruptly his chair scraped. "Let's go talk to the quest giver before they go to bed."
The guild wasn't far, and even at night it hummed with activity. Lanterns swung from iron hooks outside, casting warm pools of light onto the cobblestones. Inside, the air was thicker with ale than before, and the noise was a low, steady roar.
They found the auburn-haired receptionist at her desk, now sipping tea instead of writing. She raised an eyebrow as they approached. "Back already?"
Emily leaned casually on the counter. "We… might be interested in that lost cat job after all."
The woman's expression softened just a little. "Owner's name is Marnie. Lives on West Willow Street, third house past the baker's. Old tabby, answers to the name Whiskerfoot." She hesitated. "Oh — the cat was wearing a small bronze bell on a red leather collar when it went missing. Reward is 20 Bronze Coins"
Emily's grin was immediate. "That's all we needed to know."
Noah tapped the side of his head. "Radar's going to make this a breeze."
They left the guild and followed the winding streets toward West Willow. The neighborhood was quieter here, with narrower lanes and low stone walls covered in ivy. Firelight glowed faintly through curtained windows.
Marnie turned out to be a thin, silver-haired woman with surprisingly sharp eyes. She opened the door in a wool shawl, clearly on her way to bed.
"Oh, thank goodness," she said as soon as she saw the badges. "I was afraid no one would take the job."
Emily smiled reassuringly. "We just wanted to ask a few details first. The collar — was it definitely bronze?"
"Yes," Marnie said, nodding quickly. "Little round bell, polished. You could hear it a street away when he ran."
Noah's grin spread slowly, almost smugly. "We'll have him back before you can finish a cup of tea."
Once they stepped away from the door, Noah closed his eyes and focused.
[Activating Metallic Radar…]
[Scanning radius: 200 meters…]
The mental map unfolded in his head like a star chart, each metallic object a bright point of light. Iron nails in fences, copper pots on shelves, the faint gold from someone's wedding band. And there — to the southeast — a tiny, distinctive ping.
[Target located: Bronze object, approximately 8cm in diameter. Distance: 183 meters.]
He opened his eyes. "Got it. Southeast, two blocks down, maybe in a yard or shed."
Emily's smile turned mischievous. "Let's go rescue our furry metal detector."
The streets grew narrower as they followed Noah's lead, the cobblestones uneven underfoot. Lantern light gave way to shadow as they neared the edge of the district.
The radar ping grew sharper. Noah slowed, peering over a short wooden fence into a cluttered back garden. A half-collapsed shed leaned drunkenly against a wall, and from inside came the faintest metallic tink-tink of something brushing a bell.
Emily crouched beside the fence. "That's gotta be him."
"Yep," Noah said, already vaulting over.
The shed smelled faintly of old hay and damp wood. In the dimness, two golden eyes reflected their lantern light — then a gray tabby slipped forward, the red collar bright even in shadow.
"Hey there, Whiskerfoot," Emily whispered, crouching low.
The cat regarded her for a long moment, tail flicking. Then, with all the disdain of royalty forced to acknowledge peasants, it padded toward her and allowed itself to be scooped up.
"Mission accomplished," Noah said as they retraced their steps toward Marnie's house. "And now we've confirmed my radar can pick out specific alloys, even small ones."
Emily smirked. "Which means… mithril hunt is back on?"
"Oh, it's definitely on."
The night air was cool, the streets mostly empty, but somewhere beneath their feet — just a few hundred meters away — the mithril still pulsed on Noah's mental map, waiting.
And now they had a reason to go looking.