Cherreads

Chapter 5 - Chapter 5: New Experiences

The Riverside Inn smelled like wood smoke, roasted meat, and something yeasty that was probably beer. Elias stood in the doorway, taking it all in with wide eyes.

The common room was packed with people—travelers, locals, merchants, and what looked like a group of adventurers huddled around a corner table. Conversations overlapped in a constant buzz of noise that was nothing like the quiet evenings in Millbrook's single tavern. A fire roared in a massive stone fireplace. Serving girls wove between tables with practiced ease, carrying platters of food and frothing mugs.

"First time in a real inn?" Teresa asked, appearing at his elbow.

"That obvious?"

"You look like a kid at a festival. Come on, let's get you sorted out." She steered him toward the bar, where a large man with a impressive beard was serving drinks. "Innkeeper! We need rooms for the caravan."

"Della already sorted it," the innkeeper rumbled. His voice matched his size—deep and carrying. "Got five rooms reserved. You're in number seven upstairs, the boy's in number twelve. That'll be five copper each."

Elias fumbled for his coin pouch, carefully counting out five copper pieces. It wasn't much—barely a dent in his funds—but it was his first real expense as an independent person. The symbolism felt weighty.

The innkeeper handed him a wooden token with "12" carved into it. "Upstairs, last door on the left. Dinner's two copper if you want it, or you can eat your own supplies. No cooking in the rooms, though. Fire hazard."

"Thank you, sir."

"Don't 'sir' me, I'm just an innkeeper. Name's Garrett." He leaned forward conspiratorially. "Fair warning, kid—the adventurers in the corner are celebrating a successful quest. They're going to get loud. If you want sleep, get it early."

Elias glanced at the adventurer table. There were five of them—humans mostly, with one dwarf—all wearing mismatched armor and sporting various minor injuries. Their laughter was already loud, punctuated by the sound of mugs clinking together.

"I'll keep that in mind. Thank you."

"Teresa, you want dinner?" Garrett asked.

"Gods, yes. What's cooking?"

"Mutton stew, roasted vegetables, fresh bread. The wife made berry pie too."

"I'll take all of it." Teresa looked at Elias. "You should eat here tonight. Your travel rations will keep, and Garrett's wife is an excellent cook. Trust me."

Two more copper coins. Elias's funds: 2 gold, 43 silver, 8 copper. Still plenty, but he was learning that money disappeared faster than expected when you had to pay for everything yourself.

"I'll have dinner too, please."

"Smart lad. Find a table, food'll be out shortly."

Teresa claimed a small table near the fire—not too close to the rowdy adventurers, but close enough to overhear their conversation. Elias sat across from her, trying not to stare at everything.

The adventurers were particularly fascinating. Their gear was well-used, showing signs of repair and hard travel. The dwarf's armor had a dent in the shoulder that looked recent. One of the humans had a bandage wrapped around his forearm, slightly bloodstained.

"You're staring," Teresa said, not unkindly.

"Sorry. I've just never seen real adventurers up close before. Well, except Old Man Hemmel, but he's been retired for years."

"Those five are probably C or D rank. Maybe pushing C from the looks of their gear." She nodded toward the dwarf. "That one's got a proper weapon, though. See the axe on his back? That's not cheap steel."

Elias activated [Keen Eye], focusing on the axe. Even from across the room, he could see the quality of the craftsmanship. The blade caught the firelight in a way that suggested either very good steel or a minor enchantment. The handle was wrapped in what looked like drake leather.

"That's an expensive weapon," Elias said.

"Probably worth more than everything you're carrying combined." Teresa smiled. "Don't let it intimidate you, though. Everyone starts somewhere. Even that dwarf was Level 1 once."

A serving girl arrived with two wooden plates piled high with food. The stew smelled incredible—rich and savory, with chunks of tender mutton and vegetables that actually had flavor, unlike the bland rations Elias had been expecting. The bread was warm and crusty. The vegetables were seasoned with herbs he couldn't quite identify.

Elias took a bite and nearly moaned. This was good. Better than good.

His [Basic Cooking] skill seemed to activate on its own, analyzing the food, identifying techniques and ingredients. Whoever had cooked this knew what they were doing. This wasn't just sustenance—it was craft.

"Good, right?" Teresa said, already halfway through her own plate.

"Amazing. My mother's a Cook class, and this is almost as good as her food."

"Garrett's wife is a Level 40 Cook. This is what you can expect at decent inns along major trade routes. The food's part of why they stay in business."

Level 40. Elias's mother was Level 35, and she was the best cook in Millbrook. To think there were people out there even more skilled...

He ate slowly, savoring every bite, listening to the conversations around him. The adventurers were talking about their quest—something about clearing out a slime infestation in a nearby cave. It sounded simultaneously exciting and disgusting.

"—and then Marcus stepped in the big one," one of them was saying, laughing. "Went up to his knee in acidic slime! Should've seen his face!"

"My boot's ruined!" the one called Marcus protested. "That's three silver to replace!"

"Better your boot than your leg, mate."

Three silver for boots. Elias looked down at his own worn leather boots—practical farm boots, showing their age. He'd need to budget for replacement equipment eventually.

So many things to think about. So many expenses he'd never considered.

"Don't worry so much," Teresa said, apparently reading his expression. "You'll figure it out. Everyone does."

"How long did you take to adjust? When you first left home?"

"Me? About a month before I stopped waking up confused about where I was." She smiled. "I wasn't adventuring, though. Just traveling for my husband's work. He was a merchant—died about five years back. I sell textiles now, small-scale stuff, and visit my sister when I can."

"I'm sorry. About your husband."

"Thank you. It gets easier." She took a drink. "Point is, the first few weeks are always overwhelming. Too much new information, too many changes. Give yourself time to adjust. Don't expect to be a seasoned adventurer in a week."

"I won't."

"Yes, you will. You're seventeen and have stars in your eyes. You'll expect too much from yourself, push too hard, probably do something stupid." She said it matter-of-factly, without judgment. "Just try not to do anything too stupid. And listen to people who've been doing this longer than you."

Sound advice, probably. Elias nodded and went back to his stew.

---

After dinner, Elias retrieved his pack from the wagon and made his way upstairs to room twelve. The wooden token fit into a slot beside the door, which clicked open at his touch. System-locked doors. Even the security was magical here.

The room was small but clean—a single bed with actual linens, a washbasin with fresh water, a small table with a candle, and a window overlooking the river. Compared to his room at home, it was sparse. But it was his for the night, paid for with his own money, in a place he'd never been before.

Elias sat on the bed, testing it. Firmer than his bed at home, but comfortable enough.

He pulled up his status screen, something he'd been doing regularly since his Awakening.

```

=== STATUS ===

Name: Elias Thorne

Species: Human

Age: 17 years

Overall Level: 1

CLASSES: [Scout] Lv. 1

ATTRIBUTES:

Strength: 12

Agility: 12

Endurance: 15

Vitality: 11

Intelligence: 13

Wisdom: 10

Charisma: 12

Luck: 10

SKILLS:

[Scout - Keen Eye] Lv. 1

[Scout - Light Step] Lv. 1

[Scout - Sure Footing] Lv. 1

[Scout - Basic Tracking] Lv. 1

[General - Farming] Lv. 15

[General - Running] Lv. 8

[General - Basic Cooking] Lv. 12

[General - Herb Gathering] Lv. 6

[General - Carpentry Basics] Lv. 7

TITLES: None

```

Still Level 1. Still the same skills at the same levels.

But he'd used [Keen Eye] for hours today. Pushed his limits. Trained actively. Why wasn't it leveling?

Patience, his mother had said. Skills take time.

Elias sighed and dismissed the screen. He'd just have to keep practicing.

A thought occurred to him, and he pulled out the short sword Hemmel had given him. The blade gleamed in the candlelight—not fancy, but well-maintained and sharp. Hemmel had shown him basic care, but Elias wanted to practice.

He pulled out the whetstone and oil from his pack and set to work, moving slowly and carefully, trying to remember everything he'd been taught. The rhythmic scrape of stone on steel was soothing. Meditative, almost.

Twenty minutes later, the blade was even sharper, and Elias felt a small sense of accomplishment. He cleaned the sword, oiled it lightly, and set it carefully beside the bed where he could reach it quickly if needed.

Not that he expected trouble at a respectable inn. But Hemmel had drilled into him: always know where your weapon is.

Elias changed into his sleep clothes, blew out the candle, and lay down in the unfamiliar bed.

Through the window, he could hear the river flowing past. Downstairs, the muffled sounds of conversation and laughter continued. The adventurers were apparently still celebrating.

His first night away from home.

Elias waited to feel homesick, but instead he just felt... awake. Alert. Excited for tomorrow.

He fell asleep with a smile on his face.

---

The next three days passed in a rhythm that was simultaneously monotonous and novel.

Wake before dawn. Quick breakfast of travel bread and dried meat. Load into the wagon. Hours of rolling countryside, interrupted by a midday meal and water breaks. Arrive at the next inn as the sun set. Eat, sleep, repeat.

But within that rhythm, Elias was learning.

He practiced [Keen Eye] until he could maintain it for two full hours before the headache became unbearable. He used [Light Step] whenever he left the wagon, moving quietly through the inns and around the campsites. [Sure Footing] helped him climb in and out of the wagon bed without stumbling, even when his legs were stiff from sitting.

[Basic Tracking] was harder to practice, but he studied the ground whenever they stopped, trying to identify tracks and understand what they meant. Animal prints were easiest—deer, rabbits, once a set that might have been a wolf. People tracks were harder, all looking similar to his untrained eye.

The other caravan members became familiar. Della ran a tight ship, always checking on her wagons and horses, planning routes and logistics with the ease of long practice. The brothers Tom and Bill continued their good-natured bickering. Sara remained quiet but smiled when Elias attempted conversation.

Herman warmed up by the second day, sharing stories of his trading ventures and offering unsolicited advice about managing money. "Never keep all your coins in one place," he said. "Spread them between multiple pouches. That way if you get robbed, you don't lose everything."

Teresa became something like an older sister, answering Elias's endless questions about city life, adventuring, and navigating the wider world.

"The Adventurer's Guild will want to assess you," she explained on the third day. "Simple test, just to verify your level and class. Then you'll be assigned a rank—F rank for Level 1 to 10, E rank for 11 to 20, and so on."

"What kind of quests can F rank take?"

"Gathering, mostly. Herbs, monster parts from common creatures, that sort of thing. Escort missions if you're in a party. Nothing too dangerous. The Guild's strict about keeping low-levels away from lethal quests."

"That sounds... safe."

"Safe keeps you alive. Alive means you can level up. Dead means game over." She'd said some variation of this at least five times now. "I know it seems boring, but those F rank quests are how you build your foundation."

On the fourth morning, the air felt different. Elias couldn't quite explain it, but something had changed.

"City air," Della announced when they set out. "You can smell it when you get close enough. Smoke from thousands of cook fires, people packed close together, the river running through it. We'll reach Silvercrest by evening."

Elias's heart rate picked up.

Today. He'd reach Silvercrest today.

The landscape had been gradually changing over the past few days. More farms, more traffic on the roads, more signs of civilization. Now they passed villages every few miles, each one larger than Millbrook. The road widened, paved with actual stones instead of packed dirt.

And then, cresting a hill in late afternoon, Elias saw it.

Silvercrest.

The capital city of Thornhaven sprawled across the landscape like nothing Elias had ever imagined. Buildings—hundreds of them, thousands—packed together in a maze of streets and alleys. Walls surrounded the inner city, tall and imposing. Towers rose above the skyline, flying banners he was too far away to identify. The river ran through the center of it all, crossed by multiple bridges.

And the people. Even from this distance, Elias could see the roads leading to the city gates were packed with traffic—wagons, riders, people on foot, all flowing in and out like blood through veins.

"First glimpse always takes the breath away," Teresa said softly.

Elias couldn't respond. His throat was too tight.

That was where he was going. That massive, overwhelming, incredible city.

That was where his adventure truly began.

The caravan rolled down the hill toward Silvercrest, and Elias felt like his heart might burst from his chest.

He was here.

He'd actually made it.

Now came the hard part: proving he belonged.

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