The new guild, "The Odd Jobs," had accomplished its first goal. They were officially sanctioned adventurers with a brand-new support-caster. They were also all completely, utterly broke.
And now Elara, just like them, had nowhere to sleep.
There was only one solution.
Keldric led the party back into the controlled chaos of the Guild Hall. The grand building now felt less like a place of legendary beginnings and more like a glorified employment office. Elara, clutching her new book, stuck close to him, a silent promise that she was in this for the long haul. As she'd told him with a small, hopeful smile directed only at him, their adventures, no matter how strange, would be the perfect practical for her theory.
Keldric steered them towards a large wooden board riddled with tattered pieces of parchment. The F-Rank Quest Board. A monument to all the tedious, unglamorous work that kept the city running.
His eyes scanned the listings. 'Mend Farmer Giles' Fence'.'Clear a cellar of oversized rats'.'De-weed the Widow Petunia's prize-winning pumpkin patch'.This is it. The legendary Isekai starting experience. All the glamour, none of the… well, glamour.
"Manual labour?" Strut's voice was a horrified whisper. "Darling, my skeletal structure is purely for aesthetic purposes. It is not designed for… agriculture."
"Is there a 'lift heavy things repeatedly' quest?" Chad asked, peering hopefully at the board. "Gotta stick to the workout plan, bro."
"These quests lack intellectual stimulation," Specs noted with a sniff. "No opportunity for methodological analysis or data-driven problem-solving."
"Where are the heroic quests, Mr. Hero?" Bones asked, pointing at a notice asking for help polishing a statue. "No dragons to slay! No evil sorcerers! Just… chores!"
Keldric leaned in conspiratorially. Lowering his voice so only Bones could hear. "Bones, you've seen the cartoons. This is the 'character-building' part of the arc. The early episodes. The author has to show us struggling with mundane stuff so that when we finally do fight a dragon, the audience feels like we've earned it. We're not doing chores. We're fulfilling a crucial narrative function. It's boring, but it's necessary."
Ignoring the others, Keldric's eyes zeroed in on the most promising option. Not exciting, but practical. And most importantly, it had a cash reward listed.
"Here we go," he announced, pulling the notice from the board. "'Delivery assistance required. Fetch one crate of Dwarven Polishing Stones from the Merchant's Quarter and return to Ironhand Smithy. Payment: 60 Coppers'."
Strut's voice cut through the air, sharp with horror. "Dwarven Polishing Stones? Darling, are you serious? That sounds heavy. And dusty. It sounds like manual labour. My couture is not designed for manual labour. I absolutely refuse."
Keldric turned to her. A sly look in his eye. "Strut, think of the destination. A smithy. Iron. Fire. Soot. Imagine the aesthetic contrast. Your flawless glamour against a backdrop of raw, industrial grit. The photos would be incredible. A whole new look. We could call it 'Forge-Chic'."
Strut froze. Skeletal hand to her chin in thought. A slow smile spread across her face. "…Forge-Chic," she whispered, eyes alight with artistic inspiration. "Darling, that's brilliant. Absolutely brilliant! Snap! Serve! Prepare the industrial-themed mood boards! We're going to a forge!"
He marched them over to the bored receptionist. She looked up, recognised them, and let out a long, weary sigh. "Got one, do you?"
Keldric slapped the parchment down. "The Odd Jobs would like to officially accept this quest."
The receptionist took the notice. Eyes scanning it briefly. "Ironhand Smithy. A fetch quest. Right." She pulled out a large ledger and a heavy-looking rubber stamp. "Your first job. Try not to mess it up."
She slammed the stamp down. THWACK! A pulse of blue magical light flared from the ink. The parchment on the F-Rank board they had taken from vanished in a puff of smoke.
"Alright, you're registered for the job," she said, waving a dismissive hand. "Ironhand Smithy is in the artisan's district. The warehouse you need is on the west docks. Don't be late. Next!"
As she called the next adventurer forward, a crisp, blue window popped into existence. Visible only to Keldric.
QUEST STARTED: [Stones for the Smithy]Rank: F
Current Objective:
- Fetch the crate of Dwarven Polishing Stones from the warehouse in the Merchant's Quarter.
Rewards upon Completion:
- 60 Copper
- 100 Guild XP
- +10 Reputation with Ironhand Smithy
- (Bonus) Potential for a minor discount on future smithing services.
The party's first official quest began. The journey to the Merchant's Quarter should have been a simple walk. With his crew, it became an ordeal. Keldric attempted to navigate using a simple city map he'd picked up at the Guild Hall. This lasted approximately thirty seconds.
"That route is suboptimal," Specs declared, pointing to Keldric's map, then producing his own map, which was still clearly a pizza menu. "According to my urban traversal algorithms, a more efficient path exists through the secondary market district."
"Bro, all this walking is just LISS cardio," Chad complained. "It's gonna kill my gains! We should be doing lunges down the street!"
Ignoring Keldric's protests, they followed Specs's 'shortcut'. Straight into a crowded, impossibly loud fish market. The air was thick with the smell of salt, brine, and things long past their prime.
"Ugh, the odours!" Strut shrieked, covering her face with a manifested silk handkerchief. Elara flinched, unconsciously taking a half-step closer to Keldric.
"Bro, smell that omega-3!" Chad countered, taking a deep, appreciative whiff. "Great for brain function and joint health! This is high-quality atmospheric nutrition!"
They finally found the correct warehouse, much later than planned. Inside, a grumpy foreman took one look at their bizarre group and grunted. "You the lot from that new guild? 'The Odd Jobs'?"
Keldric nodded. "Here for the Ironhand Smithy pickup."
The foreman pointed a thumb at a large, iron-strapped wooden crate in a dark corner. "That's it. Get it out of here. Taking up space."
The crate looked heavy. Very heavy. Great. My STR is garbage. This is going to be embarrassing.
"Based on the crate's dimensions and estimated material density," Specs began, "a two-person lift would be suboptimal. A four-skeleton lift, distributing the load across multiple points, would be the most efficient and ergonomically sound method of transport."
"Darlings, I do not 'lift'," Strut announced from her chaise lounge. "I am 'escorted'."
Just as Bones and Specs moved to attempt a clumsy two-man lift, a skeletal hand shot out, stopping them.
Chad's eye sockets lit up. "Stand back. I got this." He cracked his neck, then hoisted the crate onto his shoulder with a grunt of pure satisfaction. "Decent functional strength workout."
The foreman, watching with a cynical scowl, suddenly straightened. His eyes went wide. "Oi! You, the bony one!" he called out. Chad paused. "You lift like that all day?" "This ain't even my warm-up, bro!" Chad declared proudly. The foreman rubbed his chin, a greedy glint in his eye. "We can always use a strong back on the loading crew. Good pay, steady work. Ten silver a day. You want a job?"
Keldric's blood ran cold. Don't take it, don't take it! You're my only tank!
Chad just scoffed. "Sorry, bro! A job would interfere with my programmed hypertrophy cycle! Can't mess with the program!" The foreman just stared, utterly bewildered. "Your… what?" "Come on, Chad," Keldric said, quickly dragging him away.
QUEST UPDATED: [Stones for the Smithy]Objective Complete:
Fetch the crate of Dwarven Polishing Stones from the warehouse in the Merchant's Quarter.[1]
New Objective:
Deliver the crate to Ironhand Smithy in the Artisan's District.
The journey back towards the smithy was anything but quiet. It was a symphony of misery and motivation. Chad's rhythmic grunts (HUFF! HRNG! GAINS!) provided the bassline as he marched. This was punctuated by Elara's frantic page-turning and muttered incantations as she studied her new book. Above it all, Strut's high-pitched complaints about the cobblestones and the "uneven lighting" formed a discordant melody.
The cacophony stopped when Bones got curious. "So, what's in the book, Elara?" he chirped. "Can you show us some real magic? A hero's party always has cool magic!"
Elara's face lit up. "Oh! Of course!" She flipped through her [Beginner's Guide to Buffs and Banes]. "Okay… here's a good one to start with. [Blessing of Minor Speed]! The book says if I channel supportive energy with an uplifting and encouraging tone, it should make the target walk a little faster."
She beamed at Chad. "I'll cast it on him! To help with the load!"
"Hit me with it, sis!" Chad called back. "Let's get some magical gains!" "Okay! Just stand still for a moment, Chad!" Elara instructed, her voice full of focus. "Magic time! This is gonna be so cool!" Bones bounced on the balls of his feet, vibrating with excitement. Elara took a deep breath. Feet planted in a classic caster's stance. One hand held out towards Chad. She began the incantation.
"By the grace of light and the spirit's verve, let swiftness be the gift you serve!"
A soft, golden light gathered in her palm.
She thrust her hand forward dramatically. "[Blessing of Minor Speed]!" she cried out.
Her intent was pure. The words were correct. But her tone… her tone was all wrong. Trying so hard to sound powerful for her new guild, the "uplifting" encouragement came out as a sharp, forceful command. A well-defined bolt of shimmering energy shot forward, striking Chad squarely between the shoulder blades.
It dissipated. Nothing happened. Chad stood perfectly still, flexing under the weight of the crate.
"Did it work?" Bones asked, bouncing on his feet. "Do you feel faster, Chad?"
Chad shifted the crate on his shoulder. "Nah, bro. Feel the same. Guess your magic needs more… oomph." He took a confident step forward.
"Maybe it just has a delay!" Bones suggested brightly. "Some hero powers need to charge up first! We should have a race to see if you're faster now! That's how you test a speed blessing!"
And then it hit.
His arms trembled violently. The crate wobbled. His confident smirk vanished, replaced by a mask of dawning horror.
"Bro…?" Chad's voice was filled with a sudden, dawning horror. "What's happening? My gains… I feel them… LEAVING ME! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY GAINS?!"
His skeletal body strained as if the crate now weighed a tonne. His "muscles" gave out entirely. With a final, pathetic grunt, he dropped the crate.
CRASH!
The crate hit the cobblestones with a deafening clatter. Chad stared at his own arms in utter betrayal. "My strength... it's gone! I feel... I feel like I only did cardio!" he wailed. "WHAT DID YOU DO!? Fix it, Elara! FIX IT NOW!!!"
Elara flinched back from his sudden rage. Tears welled in her eyes. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to!"
"Oi! Lay off her, Chad!" Keldric snapped, stepping between them. "It was an honest mistake! She's still learning!" Chad grumbled but backed down under Keldric's glare. Elara looked at Keldric. Her tear-filled eyes wide with surprise and gratitude. "Thank you," she whispered.
After a chaotic argument, with Chad now slumped against a wall, too devastated by his "gain-drain" to even stand properly, Specs and Bones were forced to haul the heavy box the rest of the way.
"First time?" Snap's voice called out from behind them. Serve nodded sagely. "Welcome to the club." As both skeletons continued hauling Strut in her chair.
They arrived at the forge, flustered and dishevelled. The air was hot, filled with the rhythmic CLANG, CLANG, CLANG of a hammer on steel. Standing before a glowing forge was a powerfully built woman, face smudged with soot, muscular arms expertly hammering a piece of red-hot metal.
"Whoa, bro. That chick has some serious gains," Chad whispered from the back.
She stopped her work as they approached. Her gaze swept over them with cynical disinterest, landing on Keldric. Thoroughly unimpressed. "Delivery for Ironhand Smithy," Keldric yelled out. She grunted, inspecting the crate before tossing a small, heavy pouch onto its lid. "Sixty coppers. As agreed." She turned back to her work.
"Wait!" Keldric called out, coin now in his possession. Time to act like a real Guild Master. "I was wondering… do you have any decent swords for sale?" The woman stopped. Turned back slowly. An amused, pitying look in her eyes. She gestured with her hammer towards a rack of basic longswords. "Beginner's rack is over there," she said, her voice rough. "All overpriced junk. It'll hold an edge for a week, maybe."
Keldric, trying to apply his Isekai knowledge, picked one up. "It seems… okay," he said, trying to sound like he knew what he was talking about. "But what about the balance? Is the tang full? A good pommel should act as a proper counterweight to—"
The woman scoffed. She strode over and snatched the sword from his hand with practiced ease. "You read that in a book, didn't you?" she stated, not asked. "You've never held a sword in your life, have you?"
Before Keldric could answer, she pointed to the hilt. "Look. The guard is poorly fitted. One solid parry and it'll loosen." She ran a thumb along the blade. "And see this? The tempering is uneven. There's a weak spot right here. You try to block a real weapon with that, and it'll snap in two. It's a glorified letter opener that'll tire your arm out in thirty seconds."
She tossed the sword back onto the rack with a clatter of contempt. "If you ever decide you want a real weapon instead of a toy, come back when you have real coin," she said, her back already to him. "And don't waste my time with questions you learned from a storybook." The rhythmic CLANG of her hammer resumed.
Keldric stood there, his face burning with humiliation. A loud, condescending scoff echoed from beside him.
Specs pushed his glasses up his nose. "Hmph. That was, without question, the most inept attempt at feigning expertise I have ever had the misfortune to witness." Keldric flinched. The critique was somehow even more brutal.
"Honestly," Specs continued, "I suspect Chad could have engaged in a more intellectually stimulating discourse on metallurgy, and his primary vocabulary consists of the word 'gains'. I believe a new remedial course is required. Just for you. I shall call it: 'Feigning Competence 101: A Beginner's Guide to Not Sounding Like a Complete Imbecile'."
"Oi! Four-eyes!" Chad's voice boomed, suddenly right next to Specs's head. "What did you just say about me?"
Specs didn't even turn. "I merely stated a factual observation."
Chad's eye sockets blazed. "Are you callin' me stupid?! 'Cause it sounds a lot like you're callin' me stupid!"
Specs turned slowly. "Let me... dumb it down for you. Your... brain... is... simple. You think of 'lift'. His brain..." he gestured to Keldric, "...is also simple. He thinks of 'impress'. Both failed. But his failure was bigger. Do. You. Understand?"
"Say that again," Chad growled, stepping right up to Specs. "I dare you."
Specs adjusted his bow tie. "Or what, precisely? Your current state of diminished physical capacity renders any threat of violence statistically negligible."
"I'll smash you into a pile of spare parts!" Chad roared, raising a shaky fist.
Specs let out a short, sharp laugh. "Hah! You couldn't hurt a fly in your current state."
"Yeah?" Chad snarled. "Lucky for me, you're not a fly. You're weaker."
"YEAH?! WELL, YOU'RE SO WEAK RIGHT NOW, YOU COULDN'T EVEN CURL A ONE KILO DUMBELL!!"
"WHAT!!! YES I CAN! That's it! IT'S ON!" Chad roared, his rage overriding any sense.
What followed was not so much a fight as a cartoon dust-cloud of impotent rage.
Woosh!
Swish!
Arms swung like pool noodles. Fists connected with nothing but empty air.
WHACK!
Strut's handbag connected squarely with the back of Chad's skull. "Darlings, stop it," she commanded. Chad staggered forward, stunned. "Your petty squabbling is dreadfully common. And Chad, you are wrinkling your hoodie. We simply cannot have that."
Elara, who had been watching the entire exchange with wide, horrified eyes, saw Keldric's crestfallen expression. She stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. Her touch was warm. He looked up at her, surprised by the sincerity in her eyes.
"Don't listen to them, Keldric," she said softly. "I thought your questions were very insightful."
Bones, completely unfazed by the woman's rudeness, was vibrating with excitement. He tugged on Keldric's sleeve. "Mr. Hero, she's amazing! She's so strong and knows everything about swords! She's perfect! We have to get her to join the guild!"
Join the guild? She hates me! Keldric thought, the sheer impossibility of the task dawning on him. Just then, a final blue window shimmered into view.
QUEST COMPLETE: [Stones for the Smithy]Rewards:
60 Copper Acquired!
100 Guild XP Acquired!
+10 Reputation with Ironhand Smithy!
Bonus Reward: (Potential for a minor discount on future smithing services.) - [FAILED]
Oh, of course, Keldric thought, a wave of profound defeat washing over him. The bonus reward was to not make a complete fool of myself. Failed. Spectacularly.
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[1] Imagine it is crossed out. :)