Zen sat in his tent. It was quite large, big enough for him to stand in. The warmth from the sun beamed through the tent flaps, and a cool breeze blew through his hair. It was crazy how little time had flown by, from the start of his journey to his eventual arrival at this small military encampment.

He stretched, before he thought it was high time to explore the camp a little. He crouched out of his barren tent and walked around, where he saw rows of other tents lined up in a multitude of colors; red, gray, turquoise, green.

Eventually, he came across two men who were crouching on the ground next to a small box covered in cards. They were roughly the only people nearby that weren’t sleeping or eating, so Zen thought it wouldn’t hurt to have a chat.

“Hey!” Zen said kindly, waving at them, before sitting next to them himself. “I’m new here, so how’s the game going? Anything you guys need help with?”

The guy on the left, who wore a black beanie, leather chaps, and a leather vest gave Zen the stink eye, but the guy on the right of the box, who had blonde hair, blue eyes and the same apparel shushed him down.

“Hey, man! You seem like an adventurer,” the blonde guy said. “I’m Max, and this is Karl. Karl isn’t much of an outside talker, he’s just trying to do his own thing. Ah, take a look at his signature move!”

Zen looked at Karl’s hands, in which they spun and twisted with grace, flipping the cards to even them out as diversely as possible, making the cards flip from one palm to the other in a rhythmic fashion. It was awe-inspiring and mind numbing, and Zen had nearly forgotten how long he was staring until after Max tapped him on the shoulder.

“See?” Max beamed. “This is the power of sleight of hand. You need crazy dexterity and practice with your hands. I swear, if he could use his hands for something else, he could be a really good archer or one of those crazy gunslingers in the far west. Frankly, I don’t really understand how the westerners’ weapons work. Bang, and something dies? Must be magic.”

Westerners? Gunslingers? This was new. Zen inclined to ask.

“What’s the deal with Westerners? Are they like another civilization? And you said something about magic?” Zen asked inquisitively.

“Oh yeah,” Max said, picking up a deck of cards and trying to imitate Karl’s fingers. He failed miserably, as cards flew all over the place. “The Westerners is just slang for people who live in the chaos of the rocky desert and dry grasslands that wield these weird boomstick-like weapons. I’ve heard stories where you need a good eye and a strong arm to wield them, which is why I brought up Karl’s skill. Hey, maybe you can go out and find them for yourself! I heard you guys love to discover new things.”

“Why do you suggest I do that though? Don’t you guys want to learn new things too?” Zen asked.

Max sighed. “Well first of all, you are an adventurer aren’t you? I heard your talk with Devan. You’re a Moro, and most Moros have the opportunity to get out into the world and explore. Not us. We have the responsibility of manning our posts and taking care of our families. It’s simply not worth the time, effort, and money to go somewhere else. And not to mention, we’re barely trying to survive out here, with all of the natural disasters and monsters. But you guys. You have no roots. You can go into the world freely.”

“Oh.” Zen said. “Sorry about bringing up the topic. You must feel a little upset about it.”

Max hooted. “Ha! Me? Upset? Not at all! I feel great pride supporting my nation, the empire especially. If I stay here and help out, the empire will thrive more than ever! As the king himself says, ‘small actions have large consequences’! And not all consequences have to be bad. Look at me! Top of the line guard. By doing my part, this fort stands a little bit stronger and survives another day. Those who leave their nation for their own interests are ungrateful and stingy. Well that’s just my opinion. You could think totally differently.”

“Oh, well thanks for the explanation!” Zen thanked. “It really clears the air and now I don’t feel guilty anymore. Is there still anything you need before I go explore somewhere else?”

“Oh yeah!” Max piped up. “Oooh, I’ve been dying to have a taste of some trickleseed oil, but I can’t leave my post to forage and the forests nearby are much too dangerous for me to enter. It’s a long jaunt, given how you just got here, but it would mean the world to me. If you get me some, I promise I’ll get you a reward. Oooh! I feel like one of those important fellows who give out quests to adventurers! I feel so pumped up! Whatever class you are, I’ll give a reward that you’ll love! How about it eh?”

“Um, about that last part,” Zen asked. “I haven’t picked a class yet. How do I do that?”

“Oh,” said Max. “Picking a class isn’t so hard. You’ll just need to go to an adventurer’s guild and they’ll get you a license, and you can major and minor in two different classes. Since I doubt you can get to Tempatown right now, you can just ask Devan. The guys at the guild know him well, so you can trust him.”

Max set the deck of cards back onto the table after having painstakingly picked them up from the grass. However, a wind picked up and threw the cards everywhere again. Max seemed to ignore it. “There are five different classes. They are Marine, Gunslinger or what I call Ranger, Technomancer, Engineer, and Scientist. Each one specializes in a different field with different weapons and abilities. For now, newbies like you aren’t allowed to take a minor until you’ve proven yourself one way or another. It’s like an exam or something. God I hate exams. I wanted to become a doctor but one failed exam later and now I’m a guard. It’s not all bad though.”

“Technomancer seems kind of cool. What do they do?” Zen asked.

“Well hold your horses buddy,” Max said, holding a finger to Zen’s face. “In order to be a technomancer, the guild or a supervisor must make sure whether you are psychically attuned to anything. If you’re not, you’re just a robed man carrying a stick. Your odds? Well I’ve heard the probability is that about twenty percent of people are psychically attuned. However, most attunements are extremely weak, so unless you’re a chosen one who is psychically attuned to something and has a high attunement power? Then technomancer is your top pick. And if you do become a technomancer, you can do crazy things like shoot lighting or fire out of your staff, and do a million different things to destroy your enemies. It’s insane.”

Hm. The technomancer seemed kind of good. So they were like magicians? Doing crazy things with a stick? That’s his type of style. If he had the luck, the technomancer would be his number one pick.

“How do you know all this?” Zen asked.

“Oh, when I was younger, I used to be a big fan of you adventurers, doing all these crazy things. The stories you would come back with and your spoils that you brought back to the nation was unprecedented. So I wanted to learn more about the whole adventuring system. Even if I couldn’t take part in it.”

Zen stood up and stretched his legs. “Well I’m off then. Do you know how I can test whether I’m psychically attuned? And do you need help with the cards?”

“Again, ask Devan. He has everything,” Max said, still looking at Karl’s fingers dancing around. “And don’t worry about the cards. The wind has done this about twenty times today, and I’ve stopped caring. Do you think you can honor my request about the trickleseed oil? I promise I can make it worth your while.”

“The quest? Yeah sure,” Zen said with a thumbs up. “I accept. Now, seeya! I have to find Devan.”

Zen scampered off away from the cluster of tents and back into the center of the fortress, where the large stone brick centerpiece fort stood. He walked around, looking for Devan, until he saw him pointing and yammering to some young cadet guards next to the wooden thatch walls. It wouldn’t hurt to eavesdrop would it?

Zen hid behind some empty crates, just out of sight from Devan and the guards, who had their backs turned against him.

“Tell me the reason why the sword is the best weapon, Tyrone. Then I’ll tell you why you need to drop it and pick the spear instead. You are far too inexperienced for the sword anyways.” Devan said with a tired air.

“The sword is the best!” A man that would probably be Tyrone barked and yelled. “It can slash, it can cut through anything! Those with the sword are always heroes! I do not want to do anything with a dainty and wimpy spear!”

“Look Tyrone. Even if your ideals are big and dreams are bigger, your brain has to be incomparably smaller to not understand that you must learn and practice the spear before you go to the sword. For one, let me list out the reasons why the spear is superior.”

Zen heard the ruffling of a box of stones before hearing a rhythm of scratching, as someone was writing on a board.

“One, most spears can be cheaply made without much practice. In a pinch, you could carve a branch to a point and use it. Two, spears have a much longer range than swords, giving you a wide berth to attack enemies. Three, when made of the right materials, it can pierce through most armors, which heightens on point two even more. Four, a spear is light and fast, contributing to point two again. And lastly, you can throw a spear, and it’ll still become a viable weapon, unlike a sword. And I know you saw Stephen wield a spear on the last crosserfang attack.”

There was silence. Until Tyrone whimpered a small okay, and the argument was over.

“Oy Zen! I know you’re there!” Devan said, the sudden callout nearly made Zen jump out of his own skin. There wasn’t much reason to hide anymore, so he stepped from behind the crate.

“How did you know I was there?” Zen asked quietly.

“Intuition. I know an eavesdropper when I feel it,” Devan said tiredly. “And you should be joining us too, you need to wield a weapon too in case of battle, which you’ll probably do a lot of. You two, Tyrone and what’s your name… Kimmy. You’re on break. Go practice the spear so I can test you in an hour. I have to talk with Zen here.”

Tyrone and Kimmy sauntered off, talking about swords and spears. Devan sighed, as they probably learned nothing. He turned to Zen, who was still looking at him inquisitively.

“Alright Zen,” Devan said. “Besides spear talk, what was your other reason besides eavesdropping?”

“Oh, yeah,” Zen said, scratching the back of his head. “I wanted to ask you how I can check whether I’m psychically attuned. If I’m going to pick a class, I would like to become a technomancer.”

“Ah, a technomancer eh?” Devan said slightly judgmentally. “Being a technomancer takes a lot of skill, effort, and practice and I’m not really sure whether you’re up for it. Either way, we still need to check whether you are attuned and by how much. Otherwise, you’d have no chance huh?”

Devan put his hand into his pants pocket and pulled out a series of red, green, blue, brown, and yellow gems. They flashed in the sun, and glowed a little. Zen wanted to touch them, but restrained himself.

“What are these things? Like some magic stone?”

“Elemental stones.” Devan corrected. “If I feel any sense of movement or feeling from these crystals when you touch them, you’re probably psychically attuned to one of them. Maybe more. I doubt it's more though. Rarely anybody has more than one attunement. Go on, have a touch.”

Zen gingerly held his hand out and touched the red stone. Nothing happened.

“Nope. Touch the next one.” Devan suggested.

Zen touched the green, then the brown, then the yellow, then the blue. The only movement that happened was the wind rocking the stones across Devan’s palm.

“Gee, and I was really hoping you would be attuned to these rocks. And even though there are rarer types of stones, these are the five most common, so I doubt you’re psychically attuned at all. You should pick another class. Sorry bud,” Devan shrugged, as Zen’s head sank in dismay and disappointment.

“Well… I feel like I’m good with my hands, by that I mean making things, so I guess the next best option would be an engineer. Yeah…I’ll be an engineer!”

“Good choice!” Devan said. “I’ll give you a temporary license until you can get an official one at the Tampatown Adventurer’s Guild. From there, you can get engineer specific equipment and do other requests and what not. How did you know all the class names?”

“I asked around. There was this guy named Max, who gave me all the information. Was a really nice guy.” Zen answered.

“Ugh. The adventurer wannabe. What else did you talk to him about? Given how he is, you probably did more than just talk.”

“Oh, I accepted a quest from him. He wants to get his hands on some trickleseed oil. Shouldn’t be too hard. He promised me a good reward too–”

“You accepted his quest!? With a promise?” Devan exclaimed loudly, causing Zen to step back in surprise. “Look, here’s the thing about Max. When he promises you something, he means it. He really means it. And usually the reward that he gives are really fucking good. So you basically forced yourself into a quest you can’t back down on. Ughhhh I’m going to have to help you get the trickleseed oil aren’t I? This is such a pain in the ass!”

“Well, I can always get the oil myself, you don’t need to come,” Zen stammered.

“No, I cannot allow that,” Devan refused. “Trickleseed oil can only be found in the deep Cowry forests, which are the forests close to the Cowry mountains, where you arrived from. The river you came from was on the outskirts of the forest. Trickleseed oil comes from a low hanging vine in the Cowry forests which can be cut open and harvested. The main issue is that the forest is teeming with crosserfang spiders.”

“Are crosserfangs that strong?” Zen asked.

“Very. It took Stephen, and three other people all of their strength to take down one of them. For me, as an experienced adventurer, it took only myself at full effort. You, alone in the forest getting the oil? A suicide mission.”

“Well, I kinda still feel obligated to do the quest, even if it means danger. Is there another way to bypass the spiders though?” Zen asked.

“Oh yeah. This.” Devan said, pulling a small vial from within his shirt pocket.

“What is that?” Zen asked, looking the dark and hazy vial over.

“Truffle oil.” Devan said flatly. “It tastes about the same as trickleseed oil when you mix the vial I’m holding into a quart of water. Has the same color and viscosity too. He shouldn’t be able to tell the difference.”

“You want me… to lie to Max? That just seems wrong!” Zen exclaimed.

“It’s the better option Zen. As the most experienced adventurer here, I will not allow you to go into the deep forests. It’s far too dangerous. Not to mention what the crosserfangs will do to you if you get caught. Take the vial, and do what’s better for all of us. There’s some glass bottles in the fort mess hall and a well near the main gate. You can probably handle it from there.”

Zen took the vial with a lump in his throat before putting it into his pocket.

“It still feels wrong Devan. What if he finds out?”

“This is the better option. Either that or you die. And if he takes the fake trickleseed oil, you’ll already have your reward. You won’t have any repercussions.” Devan said, reassuringly.

“Still. I’m not so sure about all this–”

Suddenly, a bell chimed once, twice, three times, and then all hell broke loose, as men began running towards the main gate, bringing supplies, weapons, bandages, and shields. A man with a bright red feather in his leather helmet turned the corner and ran right to Devan, practically pushing Zen to the side.

“Devan! Sir! There’s a group of crosserfang spiders coming this way! We need to draft everyone to their battlestations! Please alert available archers to the parapets, and guards to the front to fight the spiders!”

The messenger guard ran off, probably to alert more people. The bell kept chiming, as a chorus of sounds happened all around them.

“God dammit. This is not a good time!” Devan said under his breath. He aggressively grabbed Zen by the arm and began pulling him towards a small wooden cabin in the center plaza.

“Where are we going? What’s happening?” Zen said in panic, essentially being forced to follow.

“The spiders are here. Prepare for battle.”