“Okay, Bartholomew, you win,” I muttered, still groggy. “Clearly, my humor is too advanced for this feline plane of existence. Guess I’ll just… find a new audience.”
That’s when the system notification popped up, shimmering in the air like a particularly gaudy advertisement.
[Welcome, Player! You have been summoned to the realm of Eldoria!]
My eyebrows shot up.
“Summoned? Eldoria? Is this that ‘isekai’ thing my nephew’s always yammering about? Did I get isekai’d for telling a bad joke? That’s… remarkably anticlimactic.”
Another shimmering box appeared.
[You have been granted the [Unique Class]: Sarcastic Sorceress!]
I snorted. “Oh, you are kidding me. Sarcastic Sorceress? Is that like a… a wizard who exclusively casts eye-rolls? Because I’ve been practicing that for years.”
[Your starter skills include:] [- Verbal Barrage (Passive): All spoken words possess a 10% chance to deal moderate psychic damage to those with weak constitutions. Bonus damage against individuals who chronically overuse exclamation points.][- Eye Roll of Dismissal (Active): A focused glare that can momentarily stun or demoralize weaker opponents by conveying extreme skepticism.] [- Wit’s Sharpness (Passive): Increases your intelligence and critical thinking by 20%. May also cause you to accidentally offend people.]
“So, basically, you’ve just quantified my entire personality,” I deadpanned. “Fantastic. What about my stats? Am I going to be all frail and useless, or did I at least get a decent constitution from all those late nights complaining about my landlord?”
A new window bloomed, listing my attributes.
[Player Name: Paige Hawking] [Level: 1] [STR: 3] [DEX: 7] [CON: 5] [INT: 15 (with Wit’s Sharpness)] [WIS: 12] [CHA: 10]
Strength 3? Really? I’m basically a strong breeze away from keeling over. And Dexterity 7? I’ve tripped over air molecules more gracefully than that. Intelligence 15 though… okay, at least I’m not going to be the dumb one in this fantasy circus. And ‘may also cause you to accidentally offend people’? Darling, that’s not a ‘may,’ that’s a ‘will.’
I looked around. I was standing in a clearing, surrounded by trees that looked like they’d been designed by a committee of druids with a penchant for the dramatic. The air smelled of damp earth and something vaguely floral, like cheap perfume trying to cover up a bad decision.
Suddenly, a rustling in the bushes alerted me. Out waddled something that looked like a cross between a badger and a very grumpy potato. It had beady little eyes and a snout that twitched suspiciously.
[Behold! A Grumble-Snout!]
“A Grumble-Snout,” I repeated, tilting my head. “Figures. Is that its special move? Does it… grumble really loudly until I get annoyed?”
The Grumble-Snout let out a surprisingly menacing growl and started waddling towards me, its little legs churning.
“Oh, you’re going for the intimidation tactic? Bold. Let’s see how that works out for you, Mr. Grumbles-a-Lot.” I adopted my most put-upon expression. “You know, I was having a perfectly quiet existential crisis, and then you showed up. Do you have any idea how inconvenient that is?”
The Grumble-Snout paused, its twitching snout momentarily still. It looked… confused.
[Verbal Barrage activated! Grumble-Snout is taking psychic damage!]
The creature let out a yelp and stumbled back.
“See? It’s not just me being a jerk; it’s a mechanic,” I explained to the general vicinity. “This is going to be so much easier than I thought. Next, we’re going to work on your posture, buddy. You’re slouching. It’s not a good look.” I took a step forward, channeling my inner disappointed aunt. “Honestly, the lack of self-awareness in this ecosystem is astounding. You can’t just charge at people, you know. There are social graces involved. Have you considered taking a class? Maybe some sort of ‘Aggressive Mammal Etiquette’ seminar?”
The Grumble-Snout, now visibly distressed, let out a pathetic whimper and retreated into the bushes.
[Grumble-Snout has fled!]
“And… they’re gone,” I sighed, stretching. “Well, that was… underwhelming. I was hoping for a bit more of a challenge. Maybe something that required more than just pointing out obvious flaws in its life choices.”
Just then, a figure emerged from the trees. He was tall, clad in gleaming armor, and carried a sword that looked like it had seen its fair share of… well, less-than-ideal plumbing.
“Hark, traveler!” he boomed, his voice resonating with all the subtlety of a foghorn. “Fear not! Sir Kaelen, Knight of the Silver Gryphon, is here to protect the innocent!”
I blinked at him. “Innocent, huh? You sure about that? I’m pretty sure I just mentally berated a rodent into fleeing. So maybe your definition of ‘innocent’ needs a little refinement.”
Sir Kaelan blinked back, his perfectly chiseled jaw slackening slightly.
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“W-what? You… you conversed with a Grumble-Snout?”
“Conversed is a strong word,” I corrected, leaning against a tree. “It was more of a one-sided critique of its life choices. To be honest, I’m not sure it grasped the nuance. They’re not exactly known for their intellectual rigor, are they?”
[Wit’s Sharpness activated! Sir Kaelan is experiencing mild confusion.]
His brow furrowed.
“But… it was hostile! It was about to attack!”
“And I successfully de-escalated the situation with the power of sheer, unadulterated sass,” I said, gesturing with a flourish. “See? Verbal Barrage. It’s a thing. You should look into it. Although, given your current level of… enthusiasm, I’m guessing your intelligence stat is probably in the single digits.”
Sir Kaelan’s face turned a shade of red that clashed spectacularly with his armor.
“How dare you! I am a knight sworn to uphold justice and order!”
“And I, apparently, am a girl armed with wit and sarcasm, sworn to point out the glaring inconsistencies in the universe,” I replied smoothly. “I’m not exactly in the best headspace at the moment, I’m sure you understand. Five minutes ago, I had a true-crime documentary, popcorn, a fuzzy blanket, and dark chocolate, but none of it seems to have made this inane journey with me. Now I’m stuck in the middle of a forest in cartoon pajama pants and Ugg slippers, dealing with easily offended rodents and the likes of your shiny metal ass. No offense, but you strode out here like you were expecting a dragon, and you got a slightly indignant, over-caffeinated woman with a penchant for biting commentary.”
[Verbal Barrage activated! Sir Kaelan is taking moderate psychic damage!]
He clutched his sword hilt, his armor creaking.
“You mock me, sorceress! I shall not stand for such insolence!”
“Oh, please, don’t strain yourself,” I said, waving a dismissive hand. “You look like you’re about to pop a blood vessel. You know, if you’re looking for a real challenge, try convincing Bartholomew that kibble is a perfectly acceptable substitute for salmon. That’s a battle of wits.”
“Indeed, I do declare with the utmost certainty that it is by no means an appropriate or satisfactory substitute for the genuine article, and I shall remain unconvinced, regardless of any arguments or pleas to the contrary, that it bears any similarity or semblance thereof.”
Both I and my new knight adversary looked down at the ball of fur cradled in my arms, fully bewildered.
“D-Did that creature just speak?” Sir Kaelan stammered, his armor squeaking as he pointed a finger at Bartholomew.
“Pray tell, have you never found yourself in the presence of a feline individual who has engaged in verbal expression? Of course, I spoke, and will continue to as I see fit.”
I shook off the weirdness of my cat suddenly expressing his thoughts verbally and decided to try something a little more direct. “Look, Sir Kaelan, was it? You seem to be a bit overwhelmed. Perhaps you’re new to this whole ‘hero’ thing? It’s okay. We all start somewhere. Mine just happens to involve a sentient cat and a sudden existential dread.”
[Eye Roll of Dismissal activated!]
I focused my gaze on him, pouring all my accumulated disdain for bad plot devices and overly dramatic pronouncements into my stare. Sir Kaelan flinched, his eyes widening for a split second before he resumed his stoic (or at least, an attempt at one) demeanor.
“I… I require no assistance!” he stammered, but his voice lacked its earlier conviction.
“Right. Because you’re clearly handling this interdimensional traveler and weird monster situation with the grace and aplomb of a seasoned adventurer,” I said, my tone dripping with insincerity. “Tell you what, though. If you happen to see a quest board that says ‘Annoy a Knight into Existential Crisis,’ let me know. I’m pretty sure I’ve just completed it.” I decided it was time to make my exit. “Well, it’s been… an experience. I’m off to find a decent cup of coffee and figure out if Bartholomew has been plotting to kill me in my sleep. You know, the usual stuff. If you need me, I’ll be the one rolling my eyes at the local tavern. Don’t bother me unless you have cookies. Or a very compelling argument for why plaid and armor is a good look. Spoiler alert: it’s not.”
With that, I turned, picking a direction at random, and sauntered into the woods, leaving a bewildered knight in my wake.
[Congratulations! You have gained 50 XP for successfully navigating your tutorial encounter!]
Fifty XP? For being myself? This is truly the greatest scam the universe has ever pulled.
As I walked, the trees seemed to shift and change, the air growing cooler. Soon, I found myself on a well-trodden path leading to a bustling village. Cobblestone streets, thatched roofs, the whole medieval cliché. And, blessedly, a sign that read: “The Gilded Goblet – Fine Ales & Questionable Stew.”
“Questionable stew? Now that’s an honest advertisement,” I muttered, pushing open the creaky door. The smell of ale and… something vaguely like burnt hair hit me first. Excellent.
The interior was dimly lit, filled with patrons who looked like they were plucked directly from a fantasy convention gone wrong. I found an empty stool at the bar and hopped up as Bartholomew found a cozy spot on the hearth.
“Alright, barkeep,” I announced, leaning forward. “I need sustenance and information. Preferably in that order. What’s good here? And more importantly, where can I find a place that doesn’t smell like despair and damp socks?”
The barkeep, a burly man with a beard that could house a family of small birds, grunted.
“Depends what you’re lookin’ for, lass.”
“I’m looking for a way to get back home, a decent meal that won’t require a hazmat suit, and possibly some decent Wi-Fi,” I said, listing my demands with practiced ease. “Also, any tips on how to avoid being mistaken for a damsel in distress by overly enthusiastic knights would be greatly appreciated.”
The barkeep chuckled, a sound like stones tumbling down a well.
“I don’t know what why-fye or a damsel are, but I can tell you’re new in town.”
“You could say that,” I replied, wiggling my fingers. “I’m more of a… cosmic accident. A glitch in the matrix. A result of a particularly potent dad joke gone wrong. So, about that stew… is it ‘questionable’ like ‘slightly off’ or ‘questionable’ like ‘might give you a third eye’?”He wiped down the counter with a rag that looked suspiciously like it had seen better days.
“It’s… hearty. Keeps you warm on a cold night.”
“Meaning it’s probably 90% filler and 10% mystery meat,” I diagnosed. “You know what? I’ll take the stew. And a mug of your strongest ale. I’m going to need it. And while I’m waiting for my culinary adventure, tell me about this Eldoria place. What’s the current crisis? Am I going to be the chosen one, or just the comic relief? Because frankly, I excel at both.”The barkeep eyed me, a flicker of amusement in his eyes.
“Well, lass, the King’s been acting mighty peculiar lately. And the Shadow Lord’s been stirring up trouble in the Eastern Wastes. But mostly, people are just trying to get by, same as anywhere.”
“The King’s acting peculiar? Is he suddenly wearing a tin foil hat and talking to his pet squirrel? Because that’s my kind of peculiar,” I said. “And the Shadow Lord? Sounds like he needs a stern talking-to about personal boundaries. Honestly, the drama in these fantasy realms. It’s exhausting.”
He poured me a tankard of ale that was the color of an Oompa Loompa’s nightmare. I took a tentative sip. It was… surprisingly okay. Not great, but not actively trying to poison me.
“Thank you,” I said, genuinely surprised. “You know, for a place that smells like a forgotten gym sock, this ale is… tolerable. High praise, coming from me.”
He shrugged. “We get all sorts. You’re not the first summon to show up lookin’ confused.”
My ears perked up. “Oh? So I’m not alone in this whole ‘accidentally isekai’d’ club? Who else has graced your establishment with their bewildered presence?”
He leaned in conspiratorially.
“There was a chap a few weeks back. Said he was a gamer. Kept asking about loot drops and respawn points. Drove poor Agnes at the bakery mad, he did.”
“A gamer, huh? Sounds like my nephew,” I chuckled. “At least that explains the loot drops. I’m more of a ‘sarcastic commentary on the absurdity of existence’ type. Which, apparently, is a magical class now. Lucky me.”
I took another, more confident swig of ale. The stew arrived, looking exactly as questionable as promised. I poked it with my spoon. It squirmed slightly. Of course it did.
“Alright, Eldoria,” I said, slumping back on my stool. “Let’s see what kind of messes we can get into. But just so we’re clear, if anyone tries to make me fight a dragon before I’ve had my morning meditation, I’m going to verbally eviscerate them. Consider yourselves warned.”
And with that, I dug into the questionable stew, the faint shimmer of a new quest notification appearing just out of my direct line of sight. Honestly, this whole ‘being an adventurer’ thing was going to be a lot more work than I anticipated. But at least it was proving to be more entertaining than lecturing Bartholomew on the finer points of dry humor. And in the grand scheme of things, that was saying something.