I arrived back at the city gates as night fell without incident. There was a short line of travelers making their way through the gates. Guards began calling a warning that the gate would be locked up and passage restricted.

  My original quest had been updated, and now said to meet Cahl at the Fisherman’s Daughter, the following afternoon.

  I decided to look for an inn to rent a room, hoping the coins I had received for completing the quests before would be sufficient. The road just beyond the gates was lined with a variety of market stalls and shops, all closed and shuttered against the encroaching night.

  A large wooden sign, hanging from an iron pole extending slightly over the road, displayed a carved bed and painted words in a block script that said ‘Night’s End.’ A pair of torches burned in sconces near the pole and provided flickering illumination for the sign.

  Light shone from the windows, and I could hear the sound of numerous overlapping conversations as I approached the front door.

  I made my way into the inn. A trio of young elves stood on a distant stage that had been elevated a foot above the rest of the main floor — they played an energetic song. An elven man sat on a stool and played on a large drum he had planted between his legs, maintaining a quick and booming rhythm. One of the women stood just ahead of him, plucking out a melody on a small handheld harp — a lyre? — while another young woman interwove a complimentary melody on a long flute. Their melodies would occasionally sync up — it was an incredible performance.

  I tore my eyes from the trio with an effort, and looked around the room. The floor plan was similar to the Fisherman's Daughter. Booths lined the walls and circular tables dotted the floor. A section of floor around the stage had been cleared of tables, and a group of people danced in the open space.

  There were dozens of people in the inn. Numerous small groups were sitting at tables and lounging at the bar. A staircase led to the second story in the back right of the room, past the bar.

  An old elven man stood behind the bar, looking over the room as another, younger elven woman took drink orders and filled them with swift elegance. The elven man waved me over when we made eye contact.

  “Welcome to the Night’s End,” he said loudly, bending close to be heard over the music and noise. “Looking for a room, or just a drink?”

  “I was hoping to get a room, and a meal, if possible,” I shouted back.

  He looked me over with a quick glance up and down. “We have rooms available. A night and a meal will be a Silver and five Copper.”

  I was slightly taken aback by the price, after paying only two coppers for the ale at the Fisherman's Daughter, but I could easily afford it with the reward money I had accumulated from completing quests.

  “What is the meal? It seems a bit high,” I said back. He smiled.

  “House special is a soup we keep cooking, been cooking for twenty years! Trust me, it is worth the higher price. Or you could go a few doors down and save some Copper.”

  “Twenty years? And no one gets sick?” I was caught off guard. A twenty-year-old soup was so far from what I had expected that I was at a loss for words. I thought of the porridge, that delicious porridge. I shoved the thought away, deep in my mind. I would not revisit those events tonight. I needed to move on.

  “Hah! No, only sickness it will bring is the cravings you’ll have for more!”

  I glanced around and noticed nearly every table and booth had people eating soup, or empty bowls.

  My stomach growled as I noticed an earthy, meaty aroma wafting in from the kitchen. An older elven woman strode through a set of double doors, balancing three bowls and a plate of steaming flatbread on a platter.

  “That smells divine. Yes, please, I’ll take a room and dinner.” I pulled a Silver and five Copper from my inventory, handing it over to the man.

  “Excellent!” he said, turning and pulling a key that hung among many other keys and empty hooks on the wall behind the bar. He handed me the key. "Your room will be on the third floor, room 303. Sit anywhere you want. Anna will be by with your soup and bread shortly.”

  “Thank you!” I said, looking around the room for an empty table.

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  “My pleasure!”

  Most of the people in the room were NPCs. It was easy to distinguish between them and players by the color of the nameplates drifting just above their heads.

  A group of players sat near the stairs. I looked around the room again and saw no other players, so I walked over.

  The group of four were laughing and seemed to be having a good time. They consisted of a high-elven man in plate armor, a high-elven woman in flowing robes, and a wood-elven man and ferret beastkin woman, both in leathers. The wood elf noticed me as I approached, and gestured in my direction, saying something that was lost in the din of conversation.

  His eyes were friendly but held a hard line of distrust, or maybe paranoia. I smiled and waved as I approached. The high-elven man stood with a wide grin, and waved me over to the table.

  “Hey! We just finished our meal, but you’re welcome to join us!” He called out as I approached. “I’m Arlo, nice to meet you!”

  He held out a hand. We gripped each others’ forearms, and a notification appeared.

  Arlo added to your Player Contact List.

  “Hello, I’m Chanter, nice to meet you! Thanks, that would be great!”

  I walked around the table, greeting the others with the same handshake, starting with the robed high-elven woman. We shook and her name was added to my contact list — Elsetha. I added the wood elf, Tobias, and the beastkin, Hannah, before sitting.

  “So, we just finished introducing ourselves to each other, but since we have another member, why don’t we go around again? I’ll start,” Arlo said.

  “Do you want to get a drink first?” Hannah asked, eyeing my empty hands.

  “That would be great,” I said. I was parched. “Does anyone else want a refill or need anything?” the group declined my offer, but I still brought back five full mugs of ale, precariously balanced on a tray the bartender had lent me. I was so excited to finally interact with other players after two days that the Silver cost was worth it.

  Arlo and Hannah cheered upon my return. Tobias smiled and nodded his head. Elsetha smiled and said that she didn’t drink alcohol, but appreciated the thought. Arlo offered to split her drink with me in mock reluctance.

  “Alright, so, I’m Arlo,” he said. “I’m a Sentinel of Dawn. Basically a fancy name for a holy warrior, Paladin, whatever you want to call it. I squire to a Knight, Sir Keldius Garne. And man, let me tell you, that guy has put me through the ringer, the last two days. Rigorous training, from the time I spawned in as his squire.”

  “I am Elsetha, and my class is an Archival Pyrophyte. It blends clerical holy magic with nature and fire. It requires a lot of studying — book studying. Which is fine, I love reading and learning, but it wasn’t exactly outlined well in the class description so… there are probably some upset players.” She smiled.

  “My class is Shaderunner,” Hannah said. Her glossy black eyes and ferret-like face were very expressive. The strangeness of her features wore off as she spoke and I got accustomed to them. “A rogue-type class. Good at stealth and dealing deadly strikes.”

  “Wildbinder,” Tobias said. “Mostly use bows, traps, and a beast companion. Going out with my mentor, Yanika, tomorrow, to bond with a beast companion.”

  “Man, you all have awesome classes. I… didn’t choose a class when I made my character. I had to take the class exam at the adventurer’s guild and ended up as a Bombastic Busker. A bard-type class.”

  “You didn’t choose a class at character creation?” Arlo asked. Four sets of eyes stared at me in wide surprise. “I didn’t even know that was an option!”

  “Wait, did you choose the random option on racial selection? It was grayed out for me!” Hannah said.

  “It was grayed out for me, as well,” Elsetha agreed. The two guys also confirmed it was not a selectable option.

  “Yeah, it said it was not an option in the beginning. I was reading the description when something happened. Some kind of glitch, I guess? And it forced me into the randomized option. Spawned me into the world with no class and a random race.” I laughed about it, but the laugh was uncomfortable. I was remembering the man that had attacked me and the drawing he had that I now held in my inventory.

  “You glitched into a random character, and it rolled you as a human?” Arlo asked, laughing. “What? What are the odds?”

  “That must have been hard,” Elsetha said, “humans aren’t exactly… venerated in this world.”

  I looked around. The room was crowded, but I didn’t see anyone keeping tabs on our conversation or looking over. I leaned in anyways, speaking very low. I was terrified of an NPC overhearing but wanted to be transparent with my new friends.

  “Actually,” I said, “I’m not human. I am something much more hated than humans. I almost died when I first spawned in, and had to change into a human form to keep from getting attacked on sight.”

  Their eyes, which had been big with the discovery of my randomized racial selection, bulged from their sockets now. Elsetha gasped, and the other three spoke at once.

  “You were randomized into a changeling?” Hannah whispered through gritted teeth and tight lips.

  “Attacked on log in? How did you survive? Did you spawn in with weapons?” Arlo whispered.

  “You shouldn’t talk about this here,” Tobias whispered. “I saw a beheading yesterday. The crowd went wild. It was a… you know.”

  I mimed zipping my lips and glanced around. No one had taken notice. “I am trusting you all, for the sake of full transparency.”

  “You should not do it again,” Tobias cautioned, “it is too risky.” He leaned closer and whispered softer “Don’t you know the bounty for changelings? Gold. Not Copper, or Silver, but Gold. New players will throw you under the bus in a heartbeat for that money.”