Luck saves the day! Sorta!

Unfortunately, relying on luck meant several things. One, not knowing where the hell you were going, at least most of the time. Two, to be starving due to having almost zero knowledge of basic survival. And three, being broke while doing one and two. So, by the time Pharen made it to a new town, he had no money, was tired, sore, and hungry.

Fortunately, the towns folk were friendly enough... and were quick to put him to work as a field hand for harvest. So, already on his grand adventure, it was almost as if fate was telling him to turn back and live as a farmer. At the end of the day, he was even more tired and sore, but at least he had enough to eat on, with a bit over to be able to stay in an inn.

Sitting back, stories of taverns had filled books over the years. They had always been some mysterious place, where the wenches were saucy, the ale was stout, and people were always looking for someone to hire. But the thing was, things weren't always like that. And in this tavern.... well, the common theme of it seemed to be drunk farmers, and a few travelers settling in for the night.

Maybe this adventuring thing was a lot worse than he thought it would be. With a sigh, he took a swig of his ale. It wasn't good, and definately didn't seem like something anyone would enjoy. He was about ready to pack up his things, sleep, and find a place to live, when once more... luck would strike.