I paced around the room, awaiting new adventurers. While Lomber was skulking around my kitchen area. A behaviour more animal than conscious adventurer.

  Like watching a dog pace around a cabinet, waiting for a bowl of dry biscuits.

  I chuckled to myself. Collecting the arrows he had bundled.

  The lizard man walked around some more, hands clasped behind his back. Pretending he wasn’t aiming straight for me. Then coughed to break the ice.

  “I will be on my way now. I’d like to thank you for your hospitality and generosity.” Extending his hand out, a much warmer smile painted across his face this time. “Hope our paths will cross again.”

  And with that, he had turned and simply left. With the added surprise of a soft closure of my door.

  “Wow, didn’t think a lizard was going to be the friendliest adventurer to date.”

  Though it was only the 2nd day, and my house was still incredibly trashed.

  “Guess it’s time for a fair-trade cup of liquid sanity to start the day right.” Opening my double-doored fridge and grabbing my last energy drink. “Double-pineapple blast, fuck yeah!”

  The sound of the ka-pshhht doing as much energising as the carbon beverage itself.

  I pulled my phone from my pocket, which had been on charge all night. Still brick.

  Hhhh… Sighing out loudly and shoving it back into my pocket.

  Like on cue, I saw the signature rattle of my door handle slowly rotating. But this time, I was going to try a different approach.

  The door burst open. Smashing into the back of my wall. AGAIN. And a duo of dwarves came marching through, unbothered and in no rush whatsoever.

  So I don’t see why they had to spartan kick the shit out of my door.

  “H-Hello weary travellers, are you in need of some assistance?” Man that sounded lame.

  The two looked at me puzzled and walked. Straight. Past. ME.

  “Hello?!”

  They walked over to my kitchen counter and then stopped. Their heads, not even clearing the top bit of my wooden countertop.

  I silently walked past them and leaned on top of the counter myself.

  2… I mean 3 can play that game.

  “Ahem. This is a Dungeon Safezone?” The chubbier of the two dwarves asked.

  “Apparently so.”

  “More like an Inn to be honest… anyway. We'd like your finest foods and accommodation please.” He followed up, nose high by the sounds–not sight.

  I would’ve answered seriously, but all I could do was snort-laugh “finest foods?” Followed by an offended scoff from the second.

  “This is day 2 of this safe zone and my ability to provide… stuff is limited I’m afraid.” Still talking to their helmets, not faces.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  “Accommodation then.”

  I pointed high above the counter, so they could see my finger. Aiming straight at my lizard scented couch—with complementary holes.

  The helmets rotated with an almost comedic flair; slowly and unmistakably horror struck.

  Wish I could’ve seen their faces to be honest.

  The dwarves approached the couch, one of them turning back and pointing. “This?!” His face scrunching in disgust, like someone eating an off lemon.

  “You got it chief—vintage model.”

  Both whispering to each other.

  “What’s a vintage?” Poking at it with their blades, one of them ripping it slightly.

  [Sir Charge Activated]

  [Calculating Costs]

  My fingers instinctively tapped on the countertop. Giving them a loud tz tz tz. Before slithering around the table and dancing my way across the damaged red pined floorboards.

  I say dancing, but it was probably more a mix of crumping and the original running man. A set of moves I indulged in, whenever I won an argument. And the fact I was severely exhausted.

  Ending with me eventually coming to a halt in front of them, hand extended, palm folding down like a drawbridge. A bridge that shook violently, because of my giddy anticipation.

  “What.” The other dwarf shrugging his shoulders.

  “The thing was already damaged.”

  I cleared my throat and prepared one of my most obnoxiously rehearsed French accents.

  “It’s Vintage.”

  “Again with that vintage.” They whispered.

  “Listen, we’re happy to pay for accommodations, but we’re not paying for damages. Definitely not for items that looked like they were shat out by a dragon.”

  Oh, you wanna play hardball do you?

  “Good Sir, you wound me.” My hand gracefully resting on my forehead.

  “A family heirloom, passed down…” I paused.

  In moments like these, I really thank my mother for enrolling me in theatre classes.

  “… down for generations, simply irreplaceable.”

  [Sir Charge Successful]

  The chubbier dwarf sighed.

  “Fine. Fine. 20 Silver for accommodation aaand.” He looked back at my mangled sofa. “Another 10 for the vintage.” Dropping the amount into my hand and the screen confirming the accuracy.

  “Pleasure doing business with you gents.” My voice back to its regular pitch, to the jaw-dropping surprise of the duo.

  “Conman!” The word escaping him, but me, choosing to ignore it. After all… 30 silver was a pretty big deal for me right now.

  I returned to my kitchen, which was starting to function as both meal prep and front desk. I almost felt like some twisted kind of motel.

  Time to see what else I can spend my money on. When that thought was interrupted by a loud groan of my stomach. I had only eaten a bar, not enough to sustain these morning antics.

  So I turned on my heel and pulled the fridge open. Zilch.

  I used to go shopping on weekends, so this whole ordeal had really thrown a wrench into my routine.

  *Ding*

  [For fulfilling a prerequisite you have been awarded a unique Skill]

  [Unique Skill “FoodLocker” unlocked]

  I immediately opened the window, after my eardrums had adjusted and read the details.

  [FoodLocker: Trade coins for items of choice.]

  [Note: You have to allocate a place where the items can arrive.]

  [Side Note: Once a place is selected, this cannot be undone. Choose carefully]

  “Pfft. Choose carefully, it says.”

  Hold up Greg, it has a point.

  I stepped back, rethinking my use of the fridge. Then snapping my fingers to a loud “Aha!”

  “The Pantry, duh.” Placing my hand on the door and… well, doing anything really. Swiping, pressing the skill, imagining it. Until it eventually dinged again, confirming my selection.

  [FoodLocker Anchor-point Set]

  [Would you like to spend coins?]