It takes a couple of hours for Fighter to return. Cleric, Rogue, and Wizard make conversation, emphasizing their own, and each others names as often as possible. I introduced myself, and listened to them talk idly.

The inn keep was nice enough. A large woman who joked about her dwarven heritage. Refusing to serve me another drink until “lord magus has some dragons blood ale, I've been saving for a rainy day.”

I finally relented, and she poured me a mug of it. It was like someone poured equal parts fireball, hot sauce, and vodka. A pint mug of this mind you, and she watched me until I drank the whole thing. I've never felt so violated in my life.

I started the conversation when Fighter arrived though.

“You are the lousiest excuse for adventurers I've ever seen. I've overseen ten year olds with more of a knack for adventuring then you.”

They all look at me dumbly.

“Why did I ask you to buy flower? Can anyone answer? The difference between a trap and environmental hazard? What the honey is for? Or the ball bearings? Can any of you answer me?”

The cleric slams her hands on the table,

“What about you? How many dragons have you killed huh?”

I scratched my head none in real life. But not including video games, 12 in my Role Playing career.

“12 of the dragons that I know of I've killed.”

That causes silence. I hold out my hand towards Fighter.

“Sword,”

He draws it, and hand it to me.

“Useless, the dragonbane enchantment is only effective if the dragon fails to resist its effect which doesn’t happen often. I would put this right back on the wall at home, and never touch it again.”

I hand the sword back to him.

“Also it’s two handed so if you are going sword and board which it seems from your armor a shield would be recommended. I would suggest a bastard sword, since if you lose your shield you can use two hands.”

I turn to face the wizard.

“Start casting a spell, any spell.”

She nods, and starts casting one at me. I immediately punch her in the nose. Her hands fly to her face, and she screams in pain.

“What the fuck! You asked me to cast one!”

I shake my head.

“If I can do that so can someone else, and they are gonna have a weapon.”

I lift one of the daggers off the table. Cleric and Rogue both look at me.

“Pass me one of pots of honey.”

The cleric slides one over. I pop the top off with the dagger.

I bring the dagger down on the rogues hand, he nimbly dodges out of the way, but not before the dagger I had on my waist has drawn a deep line along the outside of his arm.

“Gods above your crazy!”

The cleric shouts, she backs away from table her chair scraping the ground. I flip the rogue a gold coin he catches it with his uninjured arm.

“Heal him without using magic. Rogue from now on learn to fight using your non-dominant hand.”

He nods.

“Whatever you say moneybags.”

I smile, but don't say anything.

“I’ll divvy up the items now, and explain each of their uses.”

I shuffle the items into the order I want them. Scooping a pouch full of flour for everyone myself included.

“Anyone wanna guess what flour is for?”

I ask.

“Baking?”

Fighter asks. I lift up the staff, and hit him on the head with it.

“Invisibility,”

I say.

“If something is invisible, or you think there's something invisible throw handfuls of flour around. It can also be placed around cracks in a sealed room to see if air is flowing, or under someone's nostrils to see if they are breathing. It's also highly flammable when floating in the air.”

I hand a pouch of the flour to everyone. Clipping one onto my own belt. Cleric has done a shoddy job of patching the wound.

“Atrocious the wound is going to be infected, and the wrapping will fall the moment he does anything strenuous.”

I remove the cloth wrap.

“Some water, and your strongest clear spirit.”

I call to the innkeeper. She nods and darts away coming back with a mug of something a little murky, and a bowl of water.

“Arm,”

Rogue holds his arm out, I hand him the mug of the clear spirit.

“Take a drink.”

He nods, and takes a mouthful. I place a cloth under his arm and dribble some of the spirit on the wound.

He let's put a muffled scream. I dip a cloth in the water and clean around the wound, and taking a dry cloth I wipe it down. I take the pot of honey, and one of the sheets of paper. I slather some honey over the wound, and then put a little over the edges of the paper, and place it over the wound. I turn to Cleric.

“You should be able to do this in the midst of combat. Everyone should be able to do this to some extent, but Cleric should be able to do this perfectly at any time. Even in your sleep. Clean the wound three times a day, replacing the wrapping with a new one every time.”

I slide the waterproof scroll case, the dagger, and 30 of the remaining 59 sheets of paper to Wizard.

“The use for these should be obvious, I'll teach you how to make some simple codes so you can swap information easily, without the contents being known. Especially useful for a spellbook you don't want others stealing from.”

I slide the waterproof backpack and rest of the paper to Rogue with 100 of the ball bearings and the caltrops, 50 feet of the rope, the collapsible pole, which is 30 feet and breaks into 5 six foot 6 segments, another one of the daggers, the thin wire, and one of the honey pots.

“Ball bearings, and caltrops are great for running away. Paper and some honey slathered on is an excellent way to break a window. Learn how to make traps with this, and learn how to disable traps with this.”

I point to the wire, and collapsible pole respectively. Cleric gets, the other bag of ball bearing the sturdy string, the 3rd dagger, 50 feet of the rope, and the second jar of honey.

“Tie wounds with the string, use rope for rope things, ball bearing to run away, and honey to heal?”

The cleric asks questioningly. I smile, and nod.

“I thought rogue was the only one with hope, but you start to get it.”

I take a dagger, a bundle of rope, the hatchet, and both of the water pouches. Rest of the gear goes to the fighter.

“You have enough to worry about with your armor, and taking hits. Your extra time should go to learning the sword, and shield.”

The sun is begging to set outside. I decide that is a good time to wrap up.

“Everyone get a good night's rest. Training begins tomorrow.”

I tell them. I tip a gold coin to the tavern keeper, and head upstairs. I don’t plan to sleep though. Now is the time for my panic attack.

I lay down on the bed, feeling it creep up my body numbing my limbs. My heart starts to race. I have trouble controlling my breathing, and start fast shallow breaths that quickly make me dizzy. I clench at my tightening chest. And turn quickly to expel the contents of my stomach onto the floor.

I was no longer earth. I would never see my family, and friends, at least not in the foreseeable future. I had met a dragon who had given me gifts I didn’t know how to use. I didn't kill a dragon, but everyone thinks I did. And that is a problem I'll have to deal with.

I was useless, I couldn't fight, hated talking to people, and wasn't particularly talented at learning. I was bossing these adventurers around, while I hadn't killed anything before. Well at least not in combat.

I decided I needed a plan. Or at least some goals. I got off the bed, on the opposite side so I didn't step in the vomit, and pulled my binder out again.

I probably should have gotten myself some paper as well. A gas mask would do nicely too. The sled is being made. The rogue might also benefit from a garrote. What weapon did the cleric even use? A maul maybe? I should have her switch to a mace. Something spiked perhaps. Could also use some pistons or metal spikes, and a claw hammer. I fucking forgot about chalk, ink, and charcoal. A crowbar. Bottles. Manacles, oil, bells, a mirror, some fucking clothes to wear so I don't stand out. A shovel, an sledge hammer, a tent and bedroll for myself. Soap, a whistle, and air dry clay too. So much fucking stuff to buy.

I also had to figure out, what to do about the fucking egg pickling dragon, WHO HAS MY LUGGAGE BTW. Maybe a peace offering in the form of many different pickled foods. The only thing better than killing a dragon is getting one to fight for you right?

I look down at the blank sheet of paper. I haven't even started on my goal list.

Go shopping AGAIN!!!!!! Become more familiar with legends Learn some stuff about the world Come up with an excuse for who I am Learn about indigenous wildlife Don’t get killed by a dragon when rumors start to spread you have killed them Don't get killed by other dragons that think you have killed a dragon Bring pickled foods to dragon and explain the situation. Make sure not to get killed by him/her/it Learn about the nobles Don't get killed in a noble war, that thinking back on you might start by asking to get rid of the king Try not to start a prophecy you are unwittingly part of, but seem to be fulfilling anyway Dabble in magic Dabble in armed combat (polearm best arm?) Learn some stuff about the land you now seem to be rolling Don't plunge the world into an unending war as prophesied Don't die Remember not to die Try not to die Pickle some foods Also don’t die

I wouldn't say these were in exactly the order of importance, but it was close enough. I also jotted some notes down for my shopping spree, just anything I'd forgotten. I lifted my pen up. This could be an interesting export as well I'll note it down. I'm not sure how ballpoint pens actually work, but I assume it has something to do with a tiny ball in the point.

I also decide to add a few more things to take care of later. Maybe as shortcuts to a more “modern" world. Running water is one, also electricity, though well need actually appliances for it to be useful, public schooling could be useful too, maybe fostering a mentor program with some of the skilled workers in town.

I had watched one episode of primitive technology, and it was the one about Roman concrete. That could be useful, if I could remember the recipe. I write it down, and what I can remember about the recipe.

Back onto public development, I should probably get together with some workers, and talk about the logistics of the town. I don't really feel like upscaling, and hoping it works out. Keeping the constabulary in a central location, I draft a grid like pattern around it. I divide it up into different sections with main roads coming from 8 direction for goods to be moved along. I also decide to add rings of walls, that cut through the grid. One around the constabulary, another around where I have designated as the current end to the town. The a third to where the first expansion I would like to add is. Each ring has a road that stretches along the base of the wall for carts, and wagons. A park that extends 20 feet from the wall with a dirt path, and then another road for carts. The constabulary has a park that stretches 40 feet from.the closest wall with no building between it and the wall. A good place to bring the people during a siege. I intersperse some parks throughout the grid. I was going to designate which ones would get fountains before I realize I don’t know how we are getting water.

I opt to adding aqueducts along the streets. Well not along them, but raised above the streets, and covered. The main pipes would bring it along the 8 main roads, and then disperse it to the rest of the city. I also made a note to look into hollow bricks, if we could also transport water through the walls that could be useful.

I assumed a water source was nearby, since most everyone looked clean. I should probably outlaw dumping of refuse into it. Wait are dryads a thing? Could I transport, or recruit some to take care of the parks?

I spent most of remaining hours of the night planning out the city, then going off on tangents for things I would probably need or would help, then going on tangents for those tangents, and so on. A knock on the door wrests me from my ramblings.

I notice the mid morning sun, filtering through the window. The knocking returns,

“Lord Magus, Constable Damien is waiting for you.”

I tuck my binder under my arm, and shamble to the door, avoiding the vomit. Snagging a small drawstring bag from my back pack as I go. Pulling it open, which startles the innkeeper. She crinkles her nose probably at the smell, she realizes she is making a face and rights it.

“Lord magus I would encourage you to fetch me, or one of the maids to clean your room in the future if such an incident should happen again.”

She whistles, and a girl of 16 comes sprinting up the stairs with a bucket, and some cloth.

“There is a restroom at the end of the hall, I suggest you freshen up.”

She grabs my shoulders, and turns me in the direction of the room then pushes me slightly forward. I realize how much I have to use the bathroom, I pull open the binder and write toothbrush, and towel on the shopping list. I relieve myself, and splash my face with some water from a brass basin sunken into a table.

I walk out of the bathroom, and down the hall. The maid walks out of my room as I pass.

“Sorry,”

I mutter an apology. She smiles.

“Don’t worry when hammer week comes ‘round look be looking at this as a fond memory. Lily,”

She says.

“Jonathan, I owe you one.”

I head down the stairs, Lily disappears into a small closet with the bucket and soiled cloth.

The party is sitting around a table eating. The constable is at the table next to them. I pull out four character sheets, and pass them to the party.

“Fill these out, save questions until later.”

I sit across from the Constable who has a stack of papers next to him. A bowl of porridge with bits of dragon eye dropped in, and a mug of what looks like a bloody Mary, is brought over.

“The late king was fairly competent before his wife's death. Making sure that the constabulary had the proper paperwork. I just need a few signatures, a brief description of the events, and give you a seal and house name unless you already have one.”

Damien says.

“Like a last name?”

Damien shakes his head.

“Usually the main family keeps the house name, and the branch families have different last names, but it’s not a law, or anything.”

I think for a moment. Before a thought springs into my head. I pull open the binder, and quickly jot down the thought. A gear for my seal, and my emblem is a pair of hands rotating it. ‘Ever forward’ I write down beneath it.

I slide the page to him. He smirks,

“That could work, very dwarvish. What are the words?”

He asks.

“A motto, if my house could be summed up in a few words, what they are, what they strive to be, the dream of my house. Ever forward.”

He scribbles something down be each one of the letters.

“Hah, the nobles will love this. Who can come up with the best motto will be a way for them to show off, for ages.”

He chuckles, and starts sliding me various sheets of paper.

“sign here, initial here, write the events in the cave summed up in less than 50 words here, here, and here. Sign here again… and that final initial should just about finish up the paper’s we can do right now. Other stuff should take some time.”

Thank fuck I just bought a 30 pack of pens 4 days ago. I'll be through them all in a month at this rate. Really should learn how to write with a quill.

“I'll be back tomorrow to organize some papers, make sure you have the day clear since we will likely be all over town commissioning things for you. And we'll have to discuss the 10,000 gold in resources, and what you'll be ordering from whom. Have a pleasant morning.”

He gets up takes his papers, and walks out the door. I glance at the other table with the good for nothings. Snatching Fighters character sheet.

“Let's see here, mmhmm, yeah, ehh, okay.”

I cross out some of the numbers rewriting in my own assumptions.

“What are these for?”

Wizard asks.

“Training exercises.”

I grab rogues sheet. Actually filled it out decently. None of them have AC, or feats filled out.

“AC is armor class which I'd 10 baseline, plus your dex dex bonus. If you wear armor it has a Dex cap.”

I tell them.

“What is a feat?”

Cleric asks.

“A special ability or bonus that your race doesn’t give you although classes can give you them, and humans start with a free feat.”

I get a round of blank faces.

“Just forget about it.”

I prop my binder up on the table, a few pieces of loose leaf on the table.

“Let's start training with a simple exercise. We call this dungeons, and dragons.”