A gunless gunslinger walked into a tavern...

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The continent of Shiorai Mor'roinn.

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The Epoch of Liberty was set on the continent of Shiorai Mor'roinn. It was a massive contiguous landmass whose surface area was comparable to Earth.

The continent consisted of ten territories of varying sizes.

Tynilia (divided into the North and South), Praelum, and Betovium in the North.

Lorgistere and Lian in the East

Belzhor, Shuzhou, Voveria, Sokur in the Central and South

Haufaria in the West.

On Shiorai Mor'roinn's extreme North was the kingdom of North-Tynilia, the dwelling place of the Dwarven race. It was a mountainous area full of rare metal ore mines. Next to it were Betovium and Praelum, the home countries of elves and gnomes, respectively.

On the East were Lorgistere and Lian. These two kingdoms were constantly at war with each other. The dwellers were ogres, orcs and other bloodthirsty races. It was said that the other eight kingdoms were lucky that these two were constantly fighting among themselves instead of uniting and attacking the rest of the continent.

At the center were South-Tynilia, Volveria, Sokur, Belzhor, and Suzhou. The five countries were under the rule of humans and were the most prosperous.

To the west was the mysterious land of Haufaria. Shrouded in fog and separated from the rest of the continent by massive mountain ranges, deep canyons or burning deserts, Haufaria was a complete mystery. Few brave souls had ventured into the fog-covered land, and even fewer had returned. Their accounts were confusing and contradicting, but all had hinted at some strange menace reigning over the land.

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〘 Betovium (the Elves' kingdom) 〙

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〘 Mistwood village 〙

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The village was surrounded by a wall made of buried logs. Outside the wall were a layer of spikes and a 3 meters wide, 2 meters deep moat.

It had two gates at the north and the south. Each gate was flanked by two watchtowers, which were constantly manned by at least two militia members.

The guards at the north gate noticed a man approaching the town from the main road.

The man was walking unhurriedly toward the village. His shabby attire consisted of a brown coat with a hood, black pants, and old cloth shoes. On his back was an old rucksack.

He crossed the wheat fields and apple orchards, pausing to ask a farmer something, then continued toward the north gate.

"Halt! State your business!" A guard shouted when the man comes within fifty meters from the gate. Two other guards held their bows, ready for any trouble.

"..." the man muttered something under his breath.

"What did you just say?" The guard snapped.

"Nothing! Ahem… I am but a weary traveler. I hope for nothing more but a hot meal and a place to rest. I am not diseased and I have no ill intentions." The man said loudly while pulling down his hood. His face was thin and ragged, with stubbles on his chin. A scar ran over his left eye, though it thankfully left the eye intact.

"Alright! Come in! But don't cause any trouble. We're keeping an eye on you!" The guard said dismissively. The man nodded and entered the village.

Manco the Face Wrecker walked along the main street. This "street" was actually a well-traveled pathway, spreading from north to south, linking the two gates and cutting the village into two parts.

Dust swirled in the dry weather, causing him to cough and his eyes to water. The combined smell of sweat, rotten food, and animal manure permeated the air and clung to his clothes, making him nauseous.

Trying to remind himself he was in a game and whatever he was smelling is not real, Mahn Li opened the system menu and toned down the simulation of smells to 25%. Immediately the odor became a lot more bearable.

Along the main street were shops and stalls of various sizes. The village's inhabitants were milling about, minding their own business. A blacksmith was hammering furiously on his anvil. A snake oil salesman was standing on a platform and pushing his wares aggressively to a crowd of suspicious onlookers. Several horses were tied to a post in front of a two-story wooden house. They looked at him lazily as they drank from a trough.

Squinting from the afternoon sunlight, Manco looked at the two-story house. He noticed a large sign with the drawing of two large mugs. Nodding, he pushed the door open and walked inside the tavern.

As there was still daylight, most of the villagers were still out working. The tavern was mostly empty, save for a group sitting at a far corner, speaking quietly to each other. As Manco entered, they briefly stopped and looked at him, then turn back to their conversation.

Sitting down on a stool at the counter, he was greeted by the bartender.

"What'll it be?" The man said gruffly. He looked to be 50 years old, stout and strong. His arm muscles bulged under the thin brown tunic. The thick mustache wiggled as he speaks.

"Just water, please. I'm thirsty!"

"If you want water, join the horses outside!" The bartender snorted. "What'll it be?"

"Alright, a mug of ale then!" Mahn Li had to suppress the urge to draw his weapon and show the imbecile who's boss. He reminded himself that he was not strong enough yet. Causing trouble right now would only slow him down even more.

"Five farthings," said the bartender as he opened the tap and let the ale flow into a wooden mug.

"Got anything to eat?"

"Nope! Dinner's in 2 hours"

Sighing, Manco took out some hardtack from his rucksack. He wolfed them down, wincing at the bland taste and the sawdust-like texture. He took a swig of ale to wash it down but nearly spat out the drink. The thing tasted like horse piss! (Not that he knew what horse piss tasted like.)

Dialing the simulation of taste to the minimum, Mahn Li finished the meal, noting that his Hungry and Thirsty status effects have both disappeared. He adjusted the senses back to the default level.

Nursing the mug of ale, Manco tuned into the conversation the group at the corner is having. An Awareness score of 15 points was nothing too impressive and the group was keeping their voices low. However, in the relatively quiet tavern, he could still catch most of the conversation.

"… That damn idiot Nicholas. Why the hell hasn't he turned up?" A wheezy voice said.

"Probably stuck in a brothel down the street! Heh!" Answered another voice, accompanied by a vulgar laugh.

"More like dead in a ditch somewhere. That sonovabitch loves messing with other people's wives!" A woman's voice.

"Doesn't matter! We might be one man short, but we've done it plenty of times. It won't be a problem." An authoritative voice. This one sounded like the leader.

"I don't know, Rust! I've got a bad feeling 'bout this one. I think we could do with some extra muscle. Just for insurance." Wheezy voice protested.

"Okay, who then?" Leader questioned "There's no one in this god-forsaken place we can hire. They all know each other."

"What about him?" The woman proposed. Manco could feel eyes staring at him. His lips quirked up in a light smile.

The group was silent for a few moments. Then Manco heard footsteps and someone sat down on the stool next to him.

"Oi, Pegg! Another drink for my man here!" Leader said to the bartender.

Scowling at the overly-familiar tone, the stout man complied and put another mug of ale in front of Manco.

"Thank you kindly, good sir!" Manco said and tipped an imaginary hat to Leader.

"Don't mention it, my good man! The name's Rust, by the way!" The man was in his mid-thirties, well dressed, handsome and confident. He extended his hands and flashed a warm smile.

"Manco." They shook hands.

"Can't help but notice you're kinda new here."

"That I am. I used to be a guard protecting a traveling merchant. His caravan was ambushed by bandits a few days ago. Everyone died, except for me. Now I'm flat broke and hungry."

That was, of course, a complete lie. Manco had just spawned in an abandoned house north of the village half an hour ago. The lie was to convince Rust that Manco was desperate enough for money to be roped into whatever scheme they are cooking. In fact, he could have said any gibberish he wants, as long as he spoke the keywords that said he needed money and could handle himself in a fight.

"A crying shame. Anything I can do to help?" Rust sounded truly sympathetic.

"Nah. Just a friendly face is good enough. I'm gonna stick around here for a few days. See if there's any work to be done."

"Tell you what, we've got a job that needs doing a few days from now. If you're sticking around 'til then, we could use a helping hand."

"Really?"

"Of course. It's nothing dangerous. Just a bit… unusual."

"How so?"

"Don't worry about it. I'll contact you in a few days. Just hang around in this place, same hour as now. I'll find you."

"Alright! Thank you!"

Rust shook his hand again and walked back to his group.

〔Quest received: "A Helping Hand."〕

"Perfect!" Manco smiled and lifted the mug to his mouth. This time he spat the drink out for real, drenching the bartender.

"You're right. I'm better off joining the horses. The drink can't be worse than this!" Smiling, he said to the glowering man.

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〘 Footnotes 〙

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A map of the continent (with the two locations Chechian Fort and Mistwood Village marked) can be viewed here: https://drive.google.com/open?id=1PZBmWs7vXf_PBBoilBmyftKhlWWkNVDE

Credit: Azgaar's Fantasy Map Generator