Nilbog could barely stand, much less talk anymore. Sweat ran down the dark bangs attached to his head, combining with the dirt and dried blood stuck on its tips. It was time. It took him months, but he finally found Jack's civilization, and he revealed the truth to them. It was finally over.

“Uh-uh,” the guard said, leaning over the counter. One handheld his face up while the other covered his nose. "Look man, I hear ya. I really do. Other than getting the ticks in the pants, a ranker murdering his party mates is the worst thing out there. It’s sickening how common it is. Point is, I hate to be the one to say this, but you’re full of shit. The ones your accusing of murder rule Dlair. And if you haven’t heard,” he leaned in further, whispering. “It’s the place you’re standin’ in."

Nilbog stared blankly at him. He didn’t understand what he was hearing.

The guard rolled his eyes. He sat back in his seat with folded arms. “Nothing against you. It’s your words against theirs, and theirs carries a lot more than your poor ass,” he said, shrugging. “You should be glad I’m not arresting you on the spot—accusing the general and queen of foul-play is a big no-no. You seem off in the head though, so I’mma let you off on that.”

“I was there! I saw them! I did!”

“That’s not possible either, ya goof,” he said, chuckling. He stood up and walked around the counter. “The Dungeon they did allows only 5 people to enter it. Now math isn’t my strong point, but the Tall Five wasn’t the Tall Six. It's a tragedy that Jack The Hero and Nelly The Caretaker died, just when The 45th Game is nearing its ugly hide, but it was no murder.”

“That’s…” How would Nilbog even explain that part without giving his identity away? “What do I have to do to get you to believe me?”

“Pfft,” the guard said. It was a word Nilbog was not familiar with. The guard covered his mouth and held his stomach as he attempted to hold down the laughter. That Nilbog was familiar with. Mockery. “Why don’t ya save the kingdom from impending doom? That'll get my attention. Now, good day to you, boy,” he said, picking Nilbog up by the back of his shirt. Nilbog was tossed out into the street before he could utter a protest.

He struck their strange, hard ground. Not stone, but not dirt either. He stayed there for a few moments, not finding the will to get up. Humans walked right past him, barely giving him the slightest glance. Their giant structures stretched down the horizon, each one rising higher than the last, ending where their stone wall blocked entrance to the belly of their kingdom. It was taller than any tree Nilbog had seen, rivaling even the mountains.

What now?

You have taken 1 cold damage.

Another wind blew, nearly freezing the sweat under his clothes. It jolted him up and searching for shelter.

For starters, I can’t do anything if I’m dead. His HP was down to 91 out of 130. He was not used to this weather. All he had was a beaten gray scarf, a brown coat patched from multiple different coats, and three shirts he pilfered from some unfortunate travelers, but for all the good it did him he might as well been naked. The wind cut through his clothes like they were nothing.

You have gained the hunger status effect.

Hunger

HP, STM, and Overall STM regeneration decreased by 20%.

Nilbog groaned. Fatigue, cold, hunger. It just keeps piling on.

Food was more important than sleep. There were only a few hours left until nightfall, and the nearest forest he could forage in was at least a half day's walk away. Nilbog wandered the streets in hope of finding the solution to all his problems.

Could he even steal anything? In the smaller rural towns he’d passed through, snagging a loaf of bread had been fairly simple. The farmer’s wives and children who sold their wares at the local markets weren’t particularly observant. This kingdom’s buildings, walls, and doors, however, made the hunt for food difficult.

A strange sound caught Nilbog’s ears as he wandered. Cautiously, he neared it. He hunched forward, pressing his hands against the glass windows. Humans sat in groups around tables as hot soups, chunks of beef, and sweet bread oozing of custard cream were brought to them in pristine white plates. The air itself must have had its own flavor. Nilbog’s tongue wouldn’t stop salivating. It made him wish the names of the food he paraded around stopped popping up in his head.

The sound, however, remained to elude him. Muffled by the walls Nilbog could not identify its source. It wasn’t a person’s voice, nor a monster’s growl. Words failed to describe it.

He wanted to enter, wanted to make sense of this strange phenomenon, but like all other buildings he’d entered, it would just end up with him being tossed out. He couldn’t go in, yet he couldn’t just wander the cold streets.

The path here from the bogs was not easy. Goblins, ghouls, flying snakes, and bloodthirsty boars stalked the woods at night and day, but he’d at least felt safe in the cover of the trees. He could run, he could hide. But here? Here he was exposed. There was no cover, no branch to climb, no leaves to staunch his bleeding when he gets cut.

As the minutes passed Nilbog realized that staring blankly into a window wouldn’t fill his stomach. The cold had shaved off a few more of his HP, leaving him at 89/130. His STM was 140/140, but what was most troubling was his Overall STM-- It was 442/700. It didn't matter that Nilbog could break into a sprint--once his Overall STM runs out his STM will stop regenerating. He won't be able to move. Even crawling would be a tortuous task.

Nilbog would know.

Lost in his own worries Nilbog reacted too late when a heavy hand clutched his shoulder. When a tense moment passed without him being struck or hauled away, Nilbog turned towards the person behind him.

He was a short man with a round belly and thick skin that folded twice on his chin. Just like the rest of the humans in this kingdom, he was adorned with a white buttoned-up shirt, a black jacket, and a top hat that didn’t seem to have any practical use.

“No need to cause a scene,” Nilbog said, sighing out of exhaustion. “I was just about to leave." He’d encountered his fair share of scornful humans in his travel. They often saw it as their civic duty to ‘expel the riff-raff’ from their buildings and villages. Nilbog’s beaten attire, not to mention the countless holes and bruises alongside his pants, made hiding from them a difficult task.

‘’Now wait a moment young lad! Are you really going to leave after having a chance to sample some of the food you were eyeing with such unrestrained desire?’’ he said in an odd, squeaky voice. Upon seeing the different plates being served behind Nilbog, the man smiled--It was a facial expression that remained to puzzle Nilbog. From the limited knowledge he had of it, a 'smile' was used when humans wanted to be reassuring, but how would showing one's fangs be considered anything but a hostile gesture?

Regardless, the man continued in his cheery tone before Nilbog could make his escape. ‘’I am in a mood to dine tonight; would you care to keep me company? I assure you the food tastes even better than it looks. Or, well, at least as good as it looks anyway.’’ he winked, chuckling at his own joke.

“Why?” Nilbog asked the man with a sidelong look, keeping his eye out for some trick or sudden moves.

‘’Why not?”

“There’s nothing in it for you.”

“Aha!” he exclaimed, leaning uncomfortably close to Nilbog. A strong scent of alcohol filled his breath. “I believe I already told you—I require company. Eating alone can be dull at the best of times, not to mention these dark times.”

“I doubt I’ll be—"

“What’s your name, boy?’’

Nilbog closed his mouth. He was about to walk away when his stomach curled on itself again. All right man who shows his maws far too often, I’ll play your game if it means I can eat. “Nilbog,” he answered reluctantly.

The man’s ‘smile’ grew even wider. ‘’Nilbog? Nilbog? What a strange...but fine name! I wish I had a name as astonishing as yours, Nilbog, but quite unfortunately, mine happens to be a simple and common Argento Danario!’’ he said, his voice cutting loud through the crowd as he extended his hand.

Nilbog glanced at it, groaning on the inside. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Pressing his teeth tightly, he swallowed his disgust as he shook it briefly. Why must all human’s hands be so… moist?

“It’s...a pleasure to meet you, sir Argento,” Nilbog said, this time genuinely having difficulty pulling the words out. Argento's lukewarm hands sent the shivers down Nilbog’s spine. Humans were unpleasantly squishy. They had no bouncy to their flesh.

Argento beamed once again, nearly causing Nilbog to leap away. ‘’Likewise, my lad, likewise. Now, shall we head inside?’’ he said, leading Nillbog by the shoulders. “Platters of exquisite wonders await our tongues. Damn the everlasting clouds, Nilbog, I say damn them all! So conceited they are, to look down on us every hour of the day. We shall be sunny despite—no, in spite of them!”

Nilbog made no attempt at understanding Argento’s strange words.