Claire, as will surprise nobody, did not do that. Instead, she slurped the last of her coffee as the circlet hit her forehead, and found herself in a herb garden, picking mint and night-blooming alwis under a waxing moon. As the garden faded and the orchard bloomed, she caught a whiff of the remaining stench – something like the day before they changed the deep-litter bedding in the dire badger stables, combined with the ineffable scent of ogres who’d been living on cabbage soup and raw adventurer for the last few decades – and crushed the mint under her nose.

Saving the Orchard: Kill rot wasps (338/350), prune apple trees (0/10), repair the cider press. Reward: cider, mana potion recipe, 1000 xp.

You have earned a new title: Wasp’s Bane! +25% damage vs wasps, hornets, and vespertilians.

You have reached Level 4!

New skill gained: Knife ‘em (active, combat): Shank your opponent somewhere vulnerable with a knife.

New skill gained: Sharp wit (active, all): Either through clever hiding places, or improvisation, you can always lay your hands on another knife.

New skill gained: Double shot (active, combat): Fire two arrows at the same target at once, doing 80% damage with each.

“Right, twelve rot wasps to go, then I can start pruning trees… if they’re still safe. Might end up making rot cider. Oh, well, can’t make rot omelettes...”

Twelve longshots and change later, Claire heard a slow clapping sound from behind her, and what sounded like an approving woof, before someone reached in front of her and pulled the quest progress notification out of the air.

“You show promise. Ain’t been a few centuries since I found one like you, and I might just have a job for you.”

One undignified jump and turn later, and Claire found herself facing a wiry dwarf man with sly eyes, a mass of cheerful-looking wrinkles, and a short tufted white beard. Mostly, though, she noticed the dog – patched brown and white, with one inside-out ear, more or less the platonic ideal of Terrier distilled into one bright-eyed wire-haired package.

“What a good dog you have! What’s his name?”

“I just call him Dog. ‘Spect he’s got another name among dogs, but I never did get around to learning dog. He’s friendly, ‘less you’re a rat, and I’d know if you were, wouldn’t I?”

Dog was an enthusiastic licker and play-fighter of hands, and loved being scratched behind the ears.

“Most folks start wondering who I am by now, I gotta say.”

“Well, you appeared out of nowhere after a mighty victory, you can interact with the UI, you’ve got a magic dog – I’m figuring you’re someone pretty special, and you’d say if you wanted me to know. Dog’s clearly the important part, anyway!”

“Well, he certainly thinks so. Anyway, I’m the Scratcher. I know you lot are distressingly short on your theology, so: god of vermin and pests and all the things that creep in the dark, and how to get rid of 'em. I need an assistant ratcatcher, and I think you might just be up to the job. So, here’s a quest for you.”

The god’s hand lifted, tossing an iridescent bubble at her, which popped to reveal the familiar quest notification message.

Ratcatcher, Ratcatcher: Find as many different ways of killing rats as you can, and sacrifice the tails to your Lord and God. Reward: unique prestige class, 1000 xp.

“Sorry ‘bout the wording there. The thingy always wants to refer to us like that. What it actually means is that you jus’ put the tails on an altar – here’s the schematic – and it counts them up.”

“Will do, boss! I’ll get right on that.”

“That’s m’girl. Oh, yeah – check out that scarecrow over there. That’s your loot drop for the wasps, that is. Honest. Would I lie to you?”

Claire turned to look, and immediately looked back to try and catch her Lord and God in the act of disappearing. No such luck, but a happy invisible woof stayed with her while she went to investigate.

The scarecrow turned out to be wearing an old black cloak decorated with embroidered battlements and a moonstone clasp. Claire briefly wondered how the scarecrow met the gender and bloodline requirements, before stuffing the cloak unceremoniously into the chest with the crown.

A Mysterious Crown: Find the matching pieces of the Royal Regalia (1/5 pieces found). Discover who its last wearer was and what happened to them. Find a suitable heir to wear it. Reward: 200,000 xp, noble title, other bonuses.

The trees were clearly very overgrown, but some of the branch junctions sparkled with golden light.

“Knife!” Claire demanded, and the universe dutifully provided one. Her hand made a complicated motion all on its own, and a small but sharp knife slid out of her sleeve, ready to use. She giggled, tossed it over her shoulder, and did it over again, three or four times. Each time something different happened – knives came from her boot top, her belt buckle, and the end of one of her plaits – and the fourth was a flake struck from a flint that “just happened” to be lying at her feet.

Flint proved surprisingly durable at cutting branches, and the quest counter ticked up nicely. “Now, where’s that rock press...”

She spotted a small shed at the side of the orchard, built in the same ramshackle dry-stone vernacular as the other goblin buildings she’d seen so far. It proved, indeed, to contain a broken cider press – the screw had jammed, and the cross-handle had sheared off completely. Zserkin must have been putting a lot of force into it, but then anyone stupid enough to try and press rocks for his collection was clearly too stupid to know when to stop pulling.

“Right, so we need oil and a handle. If I had some olives, I could press olives to get oil, if I had a working press...”

She set about ransacking the shed, eventually finding a tin labelled “GOBLIN OIL 9-in-1 miracle formula – it eases, penetrates, lubricates, dissolves, and much much more! Caution: do not apply to glass, ceramic, lacquered or painted surfaces, or organic material. Wear suitable personal protective equipment when applying GOBLIN OIL 9-in-1 miracle formula. Manufacturers will not be held responsible for any side effects including but not limited to migraines, rashes, premature baldness, haematoma, diarrhoea, unexpected growths, or death.”

“I’m a bit worried about that ‘much much more’, but here goes...” The oil was a bright pink colour, and effervesced alarmingly, but it seemed to free up the screw. “Oops, I should have put a handle on first so I could test it! Oh, well, there’s lots of branches around now...”

Fortunately, the system hadn’t reabsorbed all the cut apple branches yet, so Claire was able to get a decent four-foot length and shave it down to fit through the eye at the top of the press screw.

Saving the Orchard: Killed rot wasps (350/350), pruned apple trees (10/10), repaired the cider press. Tell Zreksin the good news! Reward: cider, mana potion recipe, 1000 xp.

Mana potion had a cider base, but it also needed thornberries, which were gooseberries that tasted faintly of lemon.

“Now, if you’re really in a hurry, you can just eat the berries, but you’d better have a big supply of nice soft leaves handy, eh?”

Claire beamed and licked her wooden spoon clean, slipping it back into its neat little loop on her belt pouch. “Thank you for teaching me! Do you know anything about making paint or ink or dye?”

“My cousin Zfurlik is the colourman – he lives out to the northwest, though, near on fifty miles away. I know he uses a lot of linseed oil, and rocks and dirt and feeding odd things to cows, but nobody ever lets him explain how it works, not after the incident at Great-Aunt Zrallik’s 127th. There was chocolate and horseradish pudding everywhere for weeks, and little Zkelliy still can’t see a beetroot without crying, the poor wee thing.”

Claire waved happily. “I’ll see you again soon! Time for me to hit the library – oh, wait, do you know anyone who’s having problems with rats at the moment? I need to collect the tails, you see...”