The brilliant flash subsided, leaving me standing in what could only be described as a settlement straight out of medieval fantasy. Cobblestone streets wound between timber-framed buildings with thatched rooftops, their weathered walls telling stories of age and wear. Merchants called out their wares while pack animals were tethered to hitching posts. The inhabitants moved about in roughspun tunics and worn leather boots though I noticed some wore chainmail, others carried bladed weapons at their hips.
My confusion must have been written across my face.
"Lost, are you?"
I turned to find a woman regarding me with curiosity. She was generous of figure, her expression kind.
"I... yes, actually. What is this place?"
"You're standing in Chalm, on the outer reaches of Aberis Kingdom," she replied, tilting her head. "You really don't know?"
Aberis Kingdom? Chalm? The names meant nothing to me. Asking more would make me seem unhinged, so I pivoted. "Is there somewhere I could learn more about the area? Get my bearings?"
"The Adventurer's Hall would be your best option," she suggested warmly, gesturing down the main thoroughfare. "The building with the crossed swords on the sign, you can't miss it."
I thanked her, trying not to let my eyes linger inappropriately as she departed. She seemed genuinely helpful, which was reassuring. My mind raced with possibilities: Was this real? Some kind of elaborate simulation? A coma dream? Until I knew for certain, I'd need to proceed carefully. No point testing the boundaries of reality if those tests could get me killed.
The walk to the Hall gave me time to observe. Some passersby had distinctly non-human features: ears protruding from unusual angles, tails swishing behind them. Beast-folk of some kind. A muscular man with feline characteristics shouldered past me without apology.
The Adventurer's Hall matched expectations of rough-hewn tables, the acrid smell of cheap ale mixing with leather and iron, voices raised in boisterous conversation. Behind the main counter stood a clerk who barely glanced up from examining her fingernails as I approached.
"New to town," I started, suddenly aware of how out of place I looked in my modern clothes, still inhabiting my unremarkable, overweight frame. "Looking for work opportunities."
Her eyes flicked over me with professional disinterest. I recognized that look at the quick assessment, the immediate dismissal.
"Membership costs one gold," she stated flatly. "The Hall coordinates contracts, and takes seventy percent of compensation."
"Seventy percent?" The words escaped before I could stop them.
She sighed, clearly having had this conversation before. "We source the work, provide protections, evaluate risk levels, and maintain your coverage. Seventy percent is standard."
"Coverage?"
"Death benefits. Should you fall in service, we arrange for clerical resurrection." She said it so matter-of-factly, as if discussing weather patterns.
My skepticism evaporated. Resurrection? Actual life-after-death restoration? Suddenly the steep percentage seemed reasonable; they were literally offering immortality insurance.
"Though I suppose," she continued, examining her nails again, "you could always pursue Realm delving instead. If you're the reckless type."
Something in her tone suggested this was significant. The game's title flashed through my mind 'REALM DESCENTS '.
"Realm delving?" I prompted.
"Independent exploration of the deep places. No contracts, no oversight, no coverage." She met my eyes directly for the first time. "If you die down there, you're gone. Permanence has a way of focusing the mind, doesn't it?"
I swallowed hard. One life. Of course it would be one life.
"Support class?" The clerk's brow furrowed. "That's not a designation I'm familiar with. What's your actual profession?"
"Healt Mage," I offered tentatively.
Murmurs rippled through the Hall behind me. The clerk's expression shifted to one of genuine confusion.
"Healt Mage? That's not in any registry I know." She leaned forward slightly. "What exactly does a Health Mage do?"
"Healing, primarily. Restorative magic."
"So you're clergy?" Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. "How does a priest operate without Church sanction?"
I felt heat creep up my neck as conversations around us died down, attention turning my way. This wasn't going how I'd hoped. I clearly had massive gaps in my understanding of how this world functioned, and my questions were drawing exactly the wrong kind of scrutiny.
"Right, so... about those realms you mentioned earlier," I said, attempting to redirect. "Are there any nearby?"
The clerk straightened, crossing her arms. "Without combat capabilities, you'd be dead weight in any realm. It's not a viable path for you. You'd need a party willing to carry you, and frankly, if your only skill is patching wounds, that's not particularly valuable. I can't imagine any group would want what was it again? a Health Mage."
The dismissal stung, but I couldn't exactly argue when I'd just arrived and knew nothing about local economics or party dynamics. Was healing really that undervalued here? This wasn't exactly how I'd planned things when I'd just been trying to launch a game. If my class was useless in this world, I would be in serious trouble.
Before I could formulate a response, a bell began to toll deep, resonant, urgent. The sound didn't originate from the Hall itself but seemed to echo across the entire settlement.
The clerk's expression changed instantly. "Well. Perhaps fortune favors you after all. Your skills may be required sooner than expected."
"What?" I barely got the word out before chaos erupted.
The Hall transformed into controlled pandemonium. Adventurers grabbed weapons from hooks, checked armor straps, shouted instructions to one another. The casual atmosphere evaporated, replaced by military precision. Through the windows, I could see the entire town mobilizing shutters slamming closed, civilians rushing indoors, armed individuals sprinting toward some unseen threat.
"Wait," I called to the clerk as she moved past me. "What's happening?"
She paused, seeming almost surprised I didn't understand, then spoke quickly. "Attack on the settlement. That bell signals general mobilization. Make yourself useful, stay here and tend to the wounded as they return. You'll receive compensation based on how many you treat successfully."
Without waiting for acknowledgement, she grabbed a supply pack and rushed toward the exit, joining the stream of people heading to defensive positions. Within moments, the exodus was complete.
I stood alone in the empty Hall, the distant sounds of shouting and metal on metal filtering through the walls.
"Well," I muttered to the abandoned room. "This escalated quickly."
"Might as well see what we're dealing with," I said to no one in particular, moving toward the exit.