"I'll tell you now that each time you fall, your nature will be altered. The ways in which you are changed are largely beyond your control. However, I will give you this talent to aid you in mastering the Labyrinth" The voice was nearer but still cracked like thunder, it's point of origin shifting with each new word. "Appraisal. This will allow you to quantify the properties of your role and better use the things you discover in your adventures. It is the basis by which you may come to understand this world, but be careful not to reveal this knowledge to any you might meet"

  "Why not?"

  "Obey me. I know what you do not" He answered like a cannon blast, stunning Ridley. "Prepare yourself to play again. You need only concentrate and all will become clear. Good luck to you" The voice traveled away at the speed of a motorcycle and was gone. Ridley could sense something like smoke and mist beneath him and that he stood on it in an otherwise black plain.

  "Alright. Let's give this a shot" He poured his limited focus out in front of him and a glass like sheet emerged like a bubble un-popping itself. On the sheet were a bunch of characters and symbols arranged in a way he immediately recognized. As he focused on each one the script seemed to suddenly make sense to him and was as easy to read as English. "This is character generation... Alright" He could see he had a single point to place where he wanted. The six stats all started at nine but had a second column with minor adjustments. He saw the Strength stat was labeled as seven and the Agility was modified to eleven. This was fairly intuitive to him. He decided to put his singular point into Fate, which he figured must been like luck. He signed the sheet with his finger before he'd examined the rest of it and was blasted off as if by a slingshot. He was yelling at first, until the little breath he had ran out of him.

  In the space of a heartbeat he was suddenly standing a room and surrounded by other figures. They all seemed so much larger than him. Several feet taller, in fact. Some of them looked sort of like pigs and must have outweighed him by at least five times. He took a few long seconds to balance himself, heart pounding in his ears.

  It looked like some kind of tavern. There were adventurers and mercenaries and common looking folk all around. Sitting and standing and kneeling amongst a dozen benches and tables. A simple melody played from somewhere near by and the atmosphere was friendly enough. He was short indeed. Ridley had spent all his young adult life from a perspective about twice as high as this one and having that change suddenly was inducing new phobias in him. There were tall people that looked bronzed and had long limbs and braids. There were sturdy men and women with fair hair and many of them did not look dissimilar from himself. Well, they looked very much like he had, when he was Ridley the human man that wanted freezer food and a fast pass to a degree. He knew well enough how this worked. He went to the bar, and it was slightly taller then he was. He climbed an open stool and placed half his weight on the bartop. "Hello, barkeep. Could I get an ale? No, a cider!" He was some kind of small person. He figured he'd better act the part.

  "That'll be eight groats, stranger" He paused. Did he have coins? He began searching himself and found that he had a pouch and belt with a knife. Remembering what the voice told him, he took a second to examine the knife. A small iridescent sheet un-popped itself over the blade and displayed script 'Small-knife 2AT No stat requirements' He felt himself smirking involuntarily. This would me terrifying if it wasn't so unbelievably cool.

  "Well, are you buying or attempting a robbery" The four nearest bar patrons laughed along jovially. It annoyed him a little, but he sensed no malice from the publican.

  "Yes, I'll get your... groats" He reached into the coin purse and retrieved exactly ten. They were like eight nickel shirt buttons. A smaller screen appeared to tell him that he had ninety remaining.

  "Actually, I'll have an ale" The Barkeep looked at him like he was simple minded.

  "That'll be four, then" Ridley paid the man five and returned the others to his bag, seeing the wispy numbers roll over to ninety five. The pint looked gigantic in his small freckled hands. It was cold and dry and grain forward. Tasting like a sweet and herbaceous Rye bread. He glanced around the place as he drank. In a euphoric kind of disbelief. Two elves sat still as statues near the fire. Eyes twice as large as any person he'd ever seen. With subtle lips and long graceful necks. They were both quite beautiful. A chalky Pastel tone tp their hair and skin and eyes. Groups of adventurers with different arms and armor sat pouring over large maps unfolded on their tables and others laughed and acted out fights. A trio of dwarves sat on the ground legs folded and weapons sitting in their laps. picking food out of wooden bowls and grumbling to one another.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  "Surprised you made the grade, kid. You don't even have a set of armor. What do I call you" The barkeep said to him in a hushed tone. He considered how to answer. The voice told him to reveal nothing, so he would have improvise.

  "I am called Riddle" A name he'd used before for Thief characters in the past. He was shocked at how naturally it was all coming to him.

  "Well, Riddle. You may want to barter with some of the adventurers here. Perhaps you have coin enough for some sturdier equipment. I would want better better odds if I were ever mad enough to take the winding stairs"

  "Ah" He nodded along, but was more confused. "Which of them would have equipment for someone like myself?"

  "You could ask another of your kind" The barman pointed a fat finger to a very small man sitting on a barrel at the foot of a table. He had Black hair with grey at his temples and a dark cape and was leaning on a short-bow. His features were sharp and he could see experience on his features. Riddle thanked the Barkeep and took the flagon with him. Feeling both timid and annoyed that his 'kind' appeared to be a Halfling. He knew this accounted for his adjusted statistics on the sheet. The small man locked eyes with him before he could get a word out but said nothing. Looking him over with cold uncurious yellow eyes.

  "I wondered if maybe you had some spare equipment for sale. Something that would fit an adventurer my size" The halfling only shook his head without breaking eye contact. A woman sitting at the same table stood and addressed him.

  "We did find a small-sword, it should be of more use to you than that knife. We haven't found any armor that may fit, but the sword we'd part with for, perhaps, twenty five groats" She had a friendly face with large round features and curly blonde hair. She wore gray and white robes with a mail shirt. He figured she must have been a Cleric or Priestess of some kind. He agreed to the trade and produced the coin. Examining the sword for a moment. The film appeared over it like a jellyfish and stated in silver and gold script 'Small-sword 3at minimum strength of 7' He slid it into his belt and thanked them. The other halfling said nothing further but continued to study him for a while. Causing a bit of paranoia in Riddle. He could reveal nothing, but he wondered if this stranger already knew somehow. He returned to the bar and mounted the same stool. "It looks like you managed some success, mister Riddle" He was a friendly enough sort. With a bald head that was dotted with sun damaged and brushy squirrel brown sideburns and moustache. His eyebrows were nearly as thick as the rest of his facial hair. He looked down at Riddle with an ambivalent expression. He could see doubt in his eyes. So he was careful in his choice of words.

  "There's no better place for me to find some armor, then?"

  "There certainly are. But if you left my tavern you'd have to show the guildsmen at the door your badge should you want to return. Bit of a hassle if you ask me" He wondered if this one also knew somehow. The man saw countless adventurers, he must have had a good sense of who did and didn't belong. Riddle was easily the oddest man out.

  "Well, that'd only slow me down now. And I'm feeling quite motivated to find some coins rather than spend the ones I have left" He said with false bravado. The barman seemed to find this answer pleasing enough and continued his work cleaning wooden cups and bowls. He finished the last of the ale and found that it was like he'd drank an entire pitcher of beer. There was a mild warmth spreading through him but it was subdued enough that he did not feel deeply compromised.

  "I had better get to it, then. This sword will be very useful"

  "Not traveling with a party?" He nodded at the barman but did not respond. Part of him had wanted to ask the group he'd met with. He could of asked any other, but he was feeling quite self-conscious about his greenness. He would go down there and see what this Halfling was like. Maybe if he was lucky he'd get a chance to put his sword through the back of that grinning reptile that killed him. The door to the spiral stairs was propped open by another of the pig-faced men he figured must have been orcs. He glanced at him only in passing and the Orc looked back with blank disinterest but handed him an unlit torch. He could feel the gaze of many pairs of eyes as he went. Riddle skipped down them with a lightness that made him only want to bound higher.

  This run would be different. He had certain advantages.