Night-Rain wiped the lingering dirt from her brow as she pushed open the heavy wooden doors of the forge. The blast of sweltering heat inside hit her like a wall, thick with the scent of burning coal, molten metal, and iron dust. The rhythmic clang of steel on steel echoed through the dimly lit workshop, punctuated by the occasional burst of sparks flying from the anvil.
At the center of it all, Lyle stood like a living statue, his broad frame hunched slightly over his work, hammering at a heated piece of metal. His scarred, calloused hands moved with a craftsman's precision, yet there was nothing delicate about his strikes—each blow rang with the force of a man who had spent decades at the forge.
He barely glanced up as Night-Rain approached.
"Hmph. Took you long enough."
His voice was as gruff as ever, but at least he acknowledged her. That was progress, she supposed.
Without ceremony, she dropped the boar tusks onto a nearby workbench. The curved ivory pieces clattered against the worn wooden surface, some rolling slightly before settling in place.
Lyle reached over, plucked one up, and rolled it between his thick fingers. He turned it over, examining the shape and texture as though searching for imperfections. After a few moments, he gave a small grunt of approval and set it aside.
"I use these on hilts," he stated simply, not elaborating further.
Night-Rain arched an eyebrow.
That's it?
She had hunted down thirty boarlets—ten times the required amount—fought off a Mama Boar, and spent over an hour hacking through enemies for this guy… and all he had to say was 'I use these on hilts'?
Her fingers twitched at her sides. If this game allowed for PVP in safe zones, she might've been tempted to knock some sense into him.
Before she could voice her irritation, Lyle finally lifted his gaze to meet hers.
His piercing gray eyes were sharp, assessing, as if he were trying to decide whether or not she was worth wasting more of his time.
"Now, I'll have you know that I don't take loans from anyone—especially men the likes of Dorian White."
The way he said the mayor's name carried a bite of disdain, his grip tightening slightly on the hammer. For a moment, Night-Rain thought he might actually swing it down on the anvil just out of frustration.
Instead, he exhaled sharply through his nose and gave a dismissive shake of his head.
"You might try old Pete Larkin," Lyle continued, his tone flat. "Spends all his damn time fishing for river monsters or some such nonsense."
🔔 Quest Updated! Unlocked [The Third Lesson] Quest.
Lyle let out a scoff and turned back to his work, grabbing a half-finished sword from the anvil and dunking it into a barrel of quenching oil. The metal hissed and steamed violently on contact, releasing a plume of dark vapor into the air.
"Without a real job, the man could probably use the charity."
There was no mistaking the contempt in his voice. It was clear that Lyle didn't think fishing was even remotely a respectable profession.
Without another word, he resumed hammering, completely dismissing her presence.
As far as he was concerned, the conversation was over.
Ding! Quest Rewards Earned!
475 Experience Points
500 Col
Bonus Rewards:
Boarlet's Blood (Rare Potion | DMG II)Boar Jerky (T1 Perfect Consumable | DMG II | MIT I)
Night-Rain's HUD flashed as the items were deposited into her inventory.
Finally.
Just as she turned to leave, Lyle jerked his chin toward a wooden table in the corner of the forge, where two open crates sat, filled with an assortment of weapons and armor.
"Grab yourself a weapon and armor from those bins on your way out."
Rewards Earned:Tealeaf Blade (T1 Uncommon Weapon of Choice | DMG I)Tealeaf Armor (T1 Uncommon Armor of Choice | MIT I)
Night-Rain followed his gaze and approached the crates, brushing off the thin layer of dust covering some of the gear. Inside, she found a mix of dull swords, cracked shields, and dented chest plates—all low-tier, barely above starter gear.
"They're about worthless," Lyle added gruffly, not even sparing her another glance. "But consider it payment for the tusks."
Night-Rain resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
"Gee, thanks," she muttered under her breath.
Digging through the pile, she eventually settled on a sturdy iron longsword with a slight greenish tint—the Tealeaf Blade. It had a nice weight to it, balanced well for swift strikes. She also grabbed a simple leather chestplate, which offered just enough defense to be useful.
After equipping her new gear, she let out a sigh and shook her head.
"Next stop, the river."
With one last glance at the grumpy old blacksmith, she turned and stepped out into the cool evening air of the Town of Beginnings, the temperature a welcome contrast to the forge's oppressive heat.
It was time to find Pete Larkin.
The dockside district was quieter than the bustling markets, the air tinged with the scent of freshwater and damp wood. The wooden planks of the pier creaked softly beneath her boots as she approached the end of the dock, where a lone figure sat, hunched over a well-worn fishing rod.
Pete Larkin was an older man, grizzled and weathered by years of outdoor labor. His long white beard was thick but neatly braided, and his tanned, leathery skin suggested a lifetime spent in the sun. His clothes were simple—a patched-up vest, rolled-up sleeves, and thick boots caked with dried mud.
Night-Rain couldn't help but notice a pattern.
Zackariah, Lyle, and now Pete. What's with these long-bearded old men? Are they all related or something?
Clearing her throat, she approached.
"Excuse me, are you Pete Larkin?"
The old fisherman didn't even glance up from his fishing line.
"Aye, that's me. And who might you be?"
"Night-Rain. I was sent by the mayor—"
Before she could finish, Pete suddenly let out a deep, hearty laugh, his entire body shaking with amusement.
"Yer tellin' me Mayor Dorian's taken to sendin' little ladies to do his dirty work? Ha! What a damn shame—he ain't even got the backbone to come chasin' after his own coin?"
Night-Rain opened her mouth to respond, but Pete's sharp eyes suddenly flickered to something in the water.
His posture stiffened, excitement flashing across his face.
"There she is!"
Before Night-Rain could react, Pete shoved his fishing rod into her hands, nearly knocking her off balance.
"You take that, 'n' I'll grab my harpoon!"
Night-Rain blinked, utterly bewildered, but before she could ask what the hell was going on, Pete was already rummaging through a nearby crate, pulling out a massive, barbed harpoon.
"I can't believe Big Bertha's finally reared her beautiful head!"
Night-Rain followed his wide-eyed gaze toward the water—
And immediately regretted it.
A massive shadow shifted beneath the surface, the water rippling outward in ominous rings. The faint outline of jagged fins cut through the waves, circling below.
Pete clapped a calloused hand on her shoulder.
"You got any of those potion things? We'll need all the help we can get to bring Bertha down."
Night-Rain stared at him, then back at the massive shadow in the water.
"What did I just get myself into?"
The fishing rod in Night-Rain's hands strained under sudden tension, the reel spinning wildly as whatever was on the other end of the line fought to pull her straight into the river.
"Whoa—!"
She dug her heels into the dock, gripping the rod tightly, her muscles burning from the sheer force. It felt like she had hooked a runaway train, the line screaming as it unspooled at an alarming rate.
Pete, now wielding a massive harpoon, cackled beside her.
"Oh-ho! She's a feisty one today! Keep that grip steady, lass—don't let her snap the line!"
Night-Rain gritted her teeth.
"Easier said than done!"
She gave the reel a sharp crank, trying to take back control, but the moment she did, the monster in the water retaliated.
A huge splash erupted from the river, showering them both in cold water as a colossal fish breached the surface.
Night-Rain's eyes widened.
Big Bertha was no ordinary fish—she was a massive river beast, her scaly body nearly as long as a carriage, with moss-covered fins and glowing amber eyes that glared with fierce intelligence. Her mouth, lined with rows of sharp, serrated teeth, snapped at the air as she thrashed, her powerful serpentine tail sending waves rippling across the water.
Then—
SPLASH!
Bertha crashed back into the river, yanking the line so hard that Night-Rain was nearly ripped off her feet.
"GAH—!"
She stumbled forward, barely managing to hold her ground as the rod bent at a dangerous angle. The durability bar on the fishing rod blinked red—if she didn't play this smart, it was going to break.
"She's gonna snap the line!" Night-Rain shouted.
Pete, still grinning like a madman, planted his feet and lifted the harpoon.
"Not if we tire her out first! Start reeling her in slow—give her a little line, then pull!"
Night-Rain nodded frantically, her arms aching as she did as instructed. She let Bertha pull just enough before jerking the rod back, reeling in small sections at a time.
The monster fish fought back viciously, her glistening tail whipping above the water in frustration.
HP Bar: [Big Bertha - 80/80]
Night-Rain's heart pounded as she continued the struggle, each movement feeling like a battle of wills. The dock creaked ominously beneath them, the tension in the air palpable.
Then—
Bertha suddenly stopped resisting.
The line slackened.
Night-Rain froze, confused.
"Wait… what?"
Pete's expression darkened.
"She's playin' dead. She does this before—"
WHOOSH!
Too late.
In a sudden, violent explosion of water, Bertha leapt straight up, her massive jaws open wide—aiming directly for Night-Rain.
Her glowing amber eyes locked onto her like a predator finally catching its prey.
For a split second, Night-Rain saw the inside of Bertha's maw—rows of razor-sharp fangs, thick gills pulsating, her breath reeking of river decay.
[Instant Death Attack: Devour] Incoming!
"Oh, hell no—!"
With a burst of instinct, Night-Rain did the only thing she could—
She let go of the fishing rod and rolled to the side just as Bertha came crashing down onto the dock.
CRACK!
The impact was so powerful that the wood splintered beneath her, chunks of the dock breaking apart as water splashed high into the air.
Bertha thrashed violently, half-stranded on the dock, her thick tail flopping against the wood with earth-shaking force.
Pete, wasting no time, hurled his harpoon straight at her gills.
CRITICAL HIT!
Bertha shrieked, her massive body shuddering as the harpoon pierced deep.
Her HP bar plummeted—
[Big Bertha - 30/80 HP]
"She's weakened! Now's your chance, lass—grab somethin' sharp and finish her off!" Pete roared.
Night-Rain's gaze darted around, searching for a weapon—her sword was sheathed at her side, but she had no time to draw it. (Mostly, she just got this sword. She didn't want to get fish guts all over it)
Then, she spotted it.
The broken fishing rod, snapped in half but still sharp at the end.
"Screw it—"
She snatched the jagged pole, and with a burst of adrenaline, she lunged forward, driving the splintered wood straight into Bertha's eye.
FINAL STRIKE!
Bertha let out a piercing screech, her massive body convulsing violently—
Then, in a bright explosion of blue pixels, she shattered into data, dissolving into the river mist.
A victorious chime rang through Night-Rain's HUD.
[Bonus Quest Completed: Big Bertha's Wrath]
+1,500 XP
+1,000 Col
+Rare Item Drop: River Serpent Scale (Crafting Material)
+Bertha's Fang (T1 Unique Dagger | DMG II | Bonus: +5% Crit Chance)
Night-Rain collapsed onto the half-broken dock, breathing hard, soaked to the bone.
Level Up!
Level Up!
Pete let out a booming laugh, slapping her on the back so hard she nearly fell into the river.
"Now that's how ya fish, lass!" he roared, grinning from ear to ear.
Night-Rain groaned, running a hand down her drenched face.
"You call that fishing? I call that nearly being eaten alive!"
Pete waved her off, pulling a flask from his belt and taking a long swig.
"Same thing, really."
Night-Rain shook her head, a tired smile creeping onto her face.
'I swear, this game is gonna be the death of me.'
Pete let out another hearty chuckle, then clapped his hands together.
"Now then, lass—about that loan Dorian was chasin' after…"
Night-Rain's stomach dropped.
Oh, right. The actual quest.
She sighed.
'Here we go again.'
Pete's grin stretched so wide that for a moment, Night-Rain wondered if it might actually split his face in half. His weathered features, still flushed with exhilaration from the battle with Big Bertha, glowed with satisfaction.
With great ceremony, he pulled something from the pile of dissipating blue pixels where the massive fish had once been.
It was a long, curved piece of bone, gleaming a pure, polished white under the sun.
Night-Rain's eyebrows shot up. It was massive, nearly the length of her arm, its surface intricately ridged, its edges razor-sharp from years of cutting through the river currents.
Pete held it out to her with both hands, his chest puffed out with pride, as if presenting her with a royal treasure.
"Big Bertha's bill," he declared grandly, the gleam in his eyes rivaling the reflection of the afternoon sun on the water.
Night-Rain blinked, hesitating before taking it. The bone was cool to the touch, heavier than she expected.
"Uh… thanks?"
Pete chuckled at her confusion, clapping a calloused hand on her shoulder—just hard enough to make her stagger forward a step.
"It's gotta be worth some col, and should repay my debt," he continued, completely unfazed by her skepticism.
Night-Rain arched a skeptical brow. 'You're telling me the mayor's gonna take a giant fish jawbone as payment?'
Pete, seemingly reading her mind, winked.
"T'was me who borrowed the good mayor's money," he admitted with a laugh. "Used it to buy this here fishin' pole, actually!"
Night-Rain's mouth parted slightly.
"Wait. You borrowed money… just to buy a fishing rod?"
Pete nodded enthusiastically, stroking his long, white beard as if she had just praised his brilliance.
"Aye, lass! And what an investment it was!" He patted the now-broken rod fondly. "Always intended to pay it back. Now I can!"
Night-Rain exhaled sharply, shaking her head with amusement. This town is full of characters.
Tucking the swordfish's bill securely into her inventory, she gave Pete a mock salute.
"Alright, old man. Let's see if Dorian is as flexible with his payments as you think."
The streets of the Town of Beginnings were buzzing as usual by the time Night-Rain returned to the mayor's lavish office near the central plaza. The contrast between Pete's rustic dockside and the immaculate, marble-floored building was almost comical.
Stepping into the ornate chamber, she was once again met with the sight of Dorian White, resplendent in his deep burgundy coat, seated behind his polished mahogany desk.
At her approach, he glanced up from a parchment he had been scribbling on, his monocled gaze flickering over her with mild curiosity.
"Ah, you've returned. I assume you've tracked down the debtor?"
Night-Rain wordlessly reached into her inventory and retrieved Big Bertha's bill.
With a solid thud, she set it down onto his pristine desk.
Dorian froze.
His expression shifted instantly from polite professionalism to pure bewilderment, his eyebrows climbing higher than seemed physically possible.
For several long seconds, he simply stared at the massive jawbone, his mouth slightly open, as though his brain was struggling to compute what he was looking at.
Finally, he let out a small, incredulous laugh, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
"Well, yes," he muttered, his composure cracking just a bit, "I suppose that's a fair trade…"
Night-Rain crossed her arms, waiting to see if he'd say anything else.
Dorian sighed, adjusting his monocle as if trying to convince himself this was all normal.
"Truth be told," he admitted with a casual shrug, "I don't quite remember how much we loaned him, anyway."
Night-Rain snorted.
"Oh, really? That's shocking."
Dorian, choosing to ignore her sarcasm, delicately reached out with two fingers, as though the bone might bite him, and reluctantly accepted the "payment."
"Uh… alright, that's all, then," he said, carefully setting the bill aside like an eccentric art piece.
His pristine politician's smile returned, and he lifted his hands in a gracious gesture.
"Thank you for your help. If you ever need anything in this town," he added, his tone smooth, "do not hesitate to drop my name."
He leaned back in his chair, the light catching on his monocle as he flashed a knowing smirk.
"I'm sure that's far more valuable than any monetary reward I could offer you, anyway."
Night-Rain stared at him.
Was he serious?
She just nearly got eaten alive, wrestled a monstrous fish, and hunted down his long-forgotten debtor… and her reward was "name-dropping privileges"?
For a moment, she considered shoving the giant jawbone into his arms and leaving him to deal with it.
Instead, she forced a pleasant smile, nodded, and walked out the door.
Ding! Quest Completed!
[The First Few Lessons – Complete!]
750 XP
1,000 Col
Reputation Boost in the Town of Beginnings
Bonus Reward: Mayor Dorian's Favor (A minor discount in local shops & the ability to request small favors from NPCs in town.)
The moment Night-Rain stepped onto the bustling stone streets, she stretched her arms above her head, releasing a long, dramatic sigh.
"I swear, I better get a damn statue in this town one day," she muttered to herself, grinning.
Her inventory was heavier with rewards, her reputation in town improved, and, honestly? She was feeling pretty good.
With a hum of satisfaction, she flicked open her menu, ready to log out for a well-earned dinner break.
"I'm thinking an Italian sub with a vanilla milkshake for dinner."
Her smile faltered as she scanned the interface.
Then, it vanished completely.
The log-out option was missing.
"Huh."
Her brows furrowed, and she swiped through the menu again—faster this time. Maybe she had overlooked it?
Nothing.
Her heartbeat quickened.
Before she could further investigate, a sudden booming chime echoed through the air.
DONG. DONG. DONG.
The town bells of the 1st Floor's central plaza rang out, and in an instant—
A brilliant flash of light engulfed her.
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