Freya awoke the next morning to the sound of a rooster screaming bloody murder.
Correction: the rooster was screaming *at* her. It stood on her stomach like a feathery demon, flapping its wings and crowing directly into her face.
"Okay, okay! I'm up, poultry Satan!" she shouted, flailing like a sleep-deprived spaghetti noodle. The rooster leapt off her with a noise that sounded suspiciously like laughter.
Freya rolled to her feet—or rather, rolled and then tumbled into a wooden barrel. The barrel rolled into a chicken coop, which exploded into a cloud of feathers, clucks, and existential regret.
Out in the distance, a sleepy NPC farmer poked his head out of a window and muttered, "Yup. She's awake."
A game prompt appeared in the air like an overly helpful Clippy:
**\[Daily Quest Unlocked: Basic Equipment Acquisition!]**
Objective: Obtain beginner equipment from the village armory.
Reward: +10 XP, 1x Rusty Weapon, and possibly tetanus.
Freya sighed and dusted herself off, half-covered in hay, feathers, and her own dignity in tatters. "Can't wait to get a weapon so I can finally stop being bullied by livestock."
---
The village of Elmwick was small, rustic, and radiated the distinct scent of potatoes, goats, and mild despair. Freya wandered through its cobblestone streets like a confused tourist on a medieval field trip. NPCs went about their looped routines: sweeping the same spot for hours, gossiping about cabbage prices, and occasionally glitching into fences.
She followed the minimap toward a glowing marker labeled "ARMORY (Trustworthy-ish)," which she guessed was a polite way of saying "probably won't fall apart immediately."
The armory itself was a crooked shack that leaned dramatically to the left, like it was trying to whisper a secret to the nearby bakery. A sign out front read: **"Ye Olde Stabby Things."**
Inside stood a man with the largest mustache Freya had ever seen. It had its own gravitational pull.
"Welcome to my humble establishment!" he boomed. "I'm Reginald Armorson, local blacksmith, sharpener of pointy things, and three-time pie-eating champion."
"Great resume," Freya said. "I'm here for the beginner gear."
Reginald nodded solemnly and reached under the counter, emerging with a weapon that looked like it had lost a duel with a blender.
**\[You obtained: Rusty Butterknife of Mild Inconvenience!]**
Damage: 1-2 (on a good day)
Status: Slightly tetanus-y
Special Effect: Might make enemies laugh themselves to death.
Freya held the weapon delicately between two fingers. "You've got to be kidding me."
Reginald shrugged. "Best we've got. The last hero took the only working sword. Used it to butter toast, tragically snapped it in half."
With a sigh, Freya added the butterknife to her inventory. The scabbard was, insultingly, a sock.
"Any armor?" she asked hopefully.
Reginald presented a tattered tunic with suspicious stains and a helmet made out of what looked like a repurposed soup pot.
**\[You obtained: Hand-Me-Down Hero's Tunic!]**
Defense: Questionable
Smell: Strongly nostalgic (and faintly like pickles)
"Well, if fashion's a weapon, I'm already lethal," she deadpanned.
---
Outside, Freya inspected herself in a puddle.
"Okay," she muttered, poking at the helmet. "Soup-pot-chic. I'm inventing a new trend."
A notification popped up:
**\[New Quest Available: First Combat Experience!]**
Objective: Defeat 3 Slimes in the Elmwick Fields.
Reward: +20 XP, 1x Slime Core (Do not ingest.)
"Slimes," Freya muttered. "Classic. Let's go stab some goo."
---
Elmwick Fields stretched out beyond the village—a wide expanse of grass, flowers, and suspicious jiggling shapes bouncing in the distance. The slimes looked like someone had turned stress balls into sentient lifeforms.
The first slime noticed her approach and emitted a sound that could only be described as an enthusiastic squelch.
Freya drew her butterknife.
"En garde, jelly blob!"
She lunged. The slime dodged. She tripped over a rock.
**\[You have taken 1 Damage from Gravity.]**
"Rude," she grunted.
The slime bounced toward her, jiggling menacingly. Freya swatted it with the butterknife. It made a sad wet *plap* and jiggled harder.
Ten hits and a full-body slime massage later, the creature finally burst into a shower of sparkles and mild shame.
**\[Slime defeated! +7 XP]**
"That… took too long," she panted, face smeared with ectoplasm.
Two more slimes later—and several threats to file complaints with monster customer service—she completed the quest.
**\[Quest Complete: First Combat Experience!]**
Reward: +20 XP, 1x Slime Core, 1x Slight Disgust with Life
**\[You Leveled Up!]**
Level: 2
New Stat Points Available: 5
New Skill Unlocked: Dramatic Flailing (Increases dodge chance by 3% when panicking)
Freya blinked. "Well. That's on brand."
---
Returning to the village, she was greeted by the village elder—an old man with a beard so long it had its own walking stick.
"Ah, the new Chosen One," he said. "I trust you've had a fulfilling and dangerous morning?"
Freya gestured to her goo-smeared tunic and soup pot helmet. "You could say I've had a *slimey* start."
The elder stared at her in silence.
"…Was that a pun?"
"I regret nothing."
He cleared his throat. "In that case, allow me to assign your next task: travel to the Forest of Bewilderment, retrieve the Ancient Teaspoon of Destiny, and avoid death."
"A teaspoon?" Freya repeated.
"It is an artifact of great power," the elder said with a twinkle in his eye. "Capable of stirring fate itself."
Freya groaned. "Of course it is."
As she walked away toward her next absurd adventure, she muttered, "I swear, if the final boss is a soup bowl, I'm quitting this game."
From behind her, the rooster crowed again.
And somehow, it sounded like a threat.