Kybor’s Rest.

Stepping through the gate, I get my first proper look at Kybor’s rest. Just beyond the gate, the space opens up into a large, paved square bustling with activity. People mill about in groups, walking around and viewing the goods of the little booths set up all around the square. It seems to be mostly produce on sale, various venders selling some familiar fruits and veggies as well as a few that I had never seen before. If anything, the scene reminds me of a farmer’s market back home.

I am taken aback at the sheer variety of people wandering about, as well as the different type of clothing on display. From what I had seen of the world so far, the walled town and the guards with their spears and the armour, I had been expecting traditional fantasy fare. Those types of clothes were certainly present, but there were also people wearing what looked to me like modern day clothes from my world.

For a moment, I was outraged. People from my world could freely come to this one, and no one told ME about it? Not only that, but they also got to change race too whilst I was stuck with plain old human? I honestly wasn’t sure if I would have changed given the chance, but the option would have been nice! I stormed towards the nearest person in modern clothes (in this case, cargo shorts and a polo), ready to give them a piece of my mind about the injustice of keeping all these cute Beastkin boys and girls to themselves when I see something in the corner of my eye that makes me stop and do a double take. More than one stall in the market were topped with Earth clothes, vendors selling various jeans, t-shirts, and other such clothing to the throng of people.

Metaphorical wind now well and truly gone from my metaphorical sails, I take another, considerably more sheepish look round to see if anyone had spotted me about to flip my shit at an innocent bystander. Luckily, none of the market-goers were paying me much attention. Taking another look reafirmed that, if the clothes were varied, the people were even more so. The most of the people present were Beastkin, which made sense as Marcus had said these lands were owned by the beastkin. The variety among the various Beastkin was staggering, there were examples of different mammals, reptiles, amphibians and even some fishfolk. Curiously enough, the only groups of animals missing were birds and insects.

Of the gathered Beastkin, around 90% were like Annie, with one or two animal features but an otherwise human-like body. The other 10% were like Marcus, bipedal versions of the animals they represented. I spot other examples of staple fantasy races in the crowd too. A group of lythe Elves wander through the throng, the menfolk as graceful as the women. A small group (no pun intended) of what could either be gnomes or halflings wander from stall to stall, whilst I see the stout, bearded figures of a group of dwarves as they laugh loudly and freely. Humans are rare, but are present, dotted around the crowd in ones or twos as they go about their business.

As fascinating as the scene before me is, standing around gawping like a tourist won't get me a job or a place to stay. At the back of the square, next to what appeared to be the main thoroughfare heading deeper into the town, sat a large board covered in several bits of paper. “Perfect, a notice board, maybe there’ll be jobs advertised.”

Now with a solid goal, I make my way through the crowd towards the noticeboard. As I get closer, I can see various adverts, warnings, and other notices. i let out a sigh of relief as I confirm that my translation skill seems to be working on written text as well. A small group of people huddle around the board. I nod to a tall man with the slanted ears of an elf as I step up beside him, then take a few moments to read through some of the entries.

To my initial excitement, there are a few notices looking for staff. I am quickly disappointed when practically all of the jobs listed are for leatherworkers, blacksmiths, tailors, and other such crafters. Learning a crafting skill would be awesome and would help the adventurer’s lifestyle I had planned, but I would need a little while to get settled and have a little coin to my name before I could search for a teacher, and even longer learning my chosen craft before I could take a paying jobs like these.

I keep looking and quickly discover the board even has a couple of wanted posters. A rather large one, bigger than the rest, catches my eye, and I give it a read. The picture on the poster is an artist’s rendition of a diminutive Kitsuné woman, one of the lesser varieties with fox ears and a tail but otherwise human features. She is dressed in a long lab coat and her face is obscured behind a stylised fox mask. I raise an eyebrow, incredulous. She certainly doesn’t look like a dangerous criminal, if anything, she’s kinda cute. But, i consider, looks can be deceiving. Who knows? She may have been charged with something Heinous. Curious, I read the rest of the poster.

Wanted (alive)

“The alchemical rogue”

Wanted for the crimes of performing body modification procedures without a guild licence and corrupting an innocent maiden of the esteemed Oak family.

The Alchemists Guild has set the bounty at 100GP.

Clearly, I’m not the only one reading the poster, as off to the side I hear, “A Maiden of the Oak family? The clowns up at the guild must have been wetting themselves when they wrote this.” This is shortly followed by a second voice that says “They can’t be on about Maddie Oak right? I heard that last month she summoned a Lesser Succubus, tied them down, then made them cum so hard the poor thing passed out.” This statement is followed by much shushing from the first voice, but those of us in the huddle that hear all had rather large grins on our faces.

My face quickly falls again as I give the board one final look over, then sigh. Nothing. I only have one option now, one that no person should be **** to do. I have ****; it was this or be homeless. I consider homelessness for a moment, before shaking my head, finding a signpost pointing in the right direction, then dejectedly begin my trudge towards the merchant’s quarter. Here I am in a fantasy world, and my only real option is to find a shitty retail job. Truly, there is no justice in any world.