It felt like an eternity waiting for her, but Her Majesty finally arrived. Their shared link revealing the that had approached him from behind. Two someones, actually. Two men from the group of idiots that were sharing the shade of the tree with him.

Goodie returned his attention to the lone prick wandering amongst the crowd. The man currently talking to one of the disguised thieves, by the look of him, had taken the role of a bricklayer. Their conversation seemed genuinely casual. The man had probably noticed that Goodie had noticed him and sought to allay any suspicions by temporarily ignoring the person he was supposed to be paying attention to.

He was interrupted from his observation of said prick by the voice of one of the duo that had separated from his companion and started sidling up beside him.

“Ah…hi.”, the man started, “I…jessusfuck!”, the guy screamed as Goodie turned to look at him.

The man…boy rather, as he looked barely a few years older than Goodie, turned and ran back behind his friends, laughing as he did so. His friends, then joined by the other boy, also laughing at whatever it is that they found to be so funny. The sole exception being the old man who was with them, who just sat against the tree with his eyes closed.

After a moment’s confusion, Goodie just rolled his eye and went back to watching his watchers.

A moment later, both of the duo had returned. Her majesty had wrapped herself around a tree branch above them, ready to strike as soon as Goodie asked. He was tempted. Especially after what they said next.

“Greetings lord of darkness.”, The same boy from before, greeted.

Huh? Goodie was once again confused. What the fuck was this idiot talking about?

As a some of the gaseous shadow stuff that he was emitting from his skin drifted past him, Goodie realised that the guy must have been referring to his shadow powers. He must have been thinking of another class. [LORD OF DARKNESS], not lord of darkness.

“[SHAMAN].”, Goodie corrected.

“Excuse me?”

“[SHAMAN OF SHADOWS], not [LORD OF DARKNESS]. What do you want?”

He was beginning to lose his patience; if these idiots kept bothering him, Her Majesty would be handing out more than a few night caps.

“We…” he waved his hand around, indicating him and his friends, “…were hoping that we could talk to you?”

“Do I have a reason to talk to you?”, Goodie asked.

“Sorry?”

“Reason. Do I have one?”

“Dude, we just want to talk to you!”, the other boy blurted out.

“I happen to be extremely busy, thank you very much, so I’d appreciate it if you would skip to the point or leave.”

The lot of them seemed taken aback by his gruff tone, not having expected such hostility. Goodie’s normal habit of trying to be polite as possible, discarded in favour of outright antagonism. The reason for his change of behaviour being his recognition of the ‘type’ of people that comprised the gang of fools before him.

Pampered. Some of them may have been rich, or special, or pretty, but each of them was in some way shielded from the harshness of reality.

He could not exactly claim to have lived the hard life, what with him having been surrounded by middle-class luxuries for the better part of it, but he had spent most of his life having to watch his own back as the world seemed to have classified him as its personal punching bag. Something he could never forget as his knee still ached from time time, despite his many attempts at healing it.

But this lot had never suffered at all. He could see it in their faces and bodies. They were relaxed, their postures unguarded as most of them just lazed about in the shade.

Everyone who had been in this world for a certain amount of time would soon form a certain ‘edge’. The more combat-focused people would become outright hard, almost to the point that they could have easily been described as sociopaths. He had once met a twelve-year-old girl that had been here since she was nine, and there was no doubt in his mind that she could have killed him without batting an eye.

The rest, the ones like him who tried to hide in the cities, that tried to survive as craftsmen and servants, even they would have a twitch. Usually in the eyes that darted around, scanning for threats, or the positions that they would sit or stand-in. Hell, even the way they talked would be guarded as if each word might have gotten them killed. And they could. One out of every seven murder back in the city was due to someone saying the wrong thing the wrong time. Usually, late at night in a bar.

Even the most laid back of people that he had met would have a certain pattern that they would follow, a ritual they would adhere to ensure their safety.

Whoever these idiots were, they had not been here long, still going through that phase of denial that almost everyone new arrival went through.

Something he had largely avoided as one of the few benefits of being a little bundle of stress was that he was always on edge, even when everything was perfectly fine. Coming to another world was not exactly a new experience either. When his parents had died, the government or whoever was in charge of orphans, had had him shipped overseas to live with his aunt and uncle, a trip that would eventually result in him being tortured and beaten to near death, not to mention the years of harassment from the town in general.

There was magic, admittedly, but the terror he experienced on earth was enough to match anything that this world could offer. As that last thought ran through his mind. A chill passed through him while his chest tightened in panic for some reason. His senses heightening as he and Her majesty tried to detect what had suddenly caused him to become frightened.

“Well?”, one of the idiots spoke.

Goodie turned to look at them, his frustration at their constant badgering reflected on the face of the guy who had asked the question, the boy’s anger at being ignored by him made more than obvious.

The boy continued, his anger growing, “You’re just sitting here, you’re not doing anything!”, the first boy claimed.

Goodie sighed as he rubbed his brow.

“If you must know, I’m observing three groups of people who may or may not be here to kill me. Satisfied?”

The boy was left dumbstruck, his face taking on a stupefied look that matched the opinion of what Goodie thought of him, the group of idiots behind him suddenly bursting into fits of laughter. The reason they had done so escaping Goodie for a moment before he realised that a group of people this young, suddenly finding themselves in a world without restrictions, must have dived headfirst into its many excesses. They must have all been high.

He was not overly familiar with drug use, but one of the effects of lighter drugs was to make people more prone to laughing were they not? At least that is how marijuana users were portrayed on TV.

Everyone was given a small shock as the old man had suddenly spoken.

“Excuse.”, he said as he stood up from his position in front of the tree, “maybe we could make a deal of some sort?”

Goodie looked at the old man. He was in his mid-forties, brown hair surrounded a prominent bald spot on top of his head, he was still wearing his earth clothes, how the man had kept them so clean was a mystery that Goodie could only chalk up to a class skill or ability.

Why was he with them? A thought that the man may have been grooming these kids crossed his mind. His skin started to crawl.

The man held out his hand. “Hi, I’m Robert, Robert Hopper.”

There was an awkward moment where the man waited for Goodie to take his hand and Goodie just stared at him.

“Ah…”, he said as he pulled his hand back, “…look, I really think a deal of some sort would be good for all of us.”

“As long it doesn’t involve our souls or firstborn, that is.” Came from the one of the duo.

The laugh track from the idiot brigade repeated, Goodie noticed one of the boys elbowing the other in the side.

“Fucking stoners”, he whispered, still not getting what was so funny.

The more mature of the duo, whom Goodie had assumed were the elected leaders of the group, stepped forward.

“Look, we came here to ask if you would like to join us, something you should consider as we’re in a very good position to help you.”, he stated as if it were a matter of fact.

“How exactly could you help me?” he asked with genuine interest. He doubted that they could, but also swore that if these idiots could help him with even one of his problems, he would name his firstborn after them.

“You just came from the city, right? Well, we’ve been here for over three months.”, the haughty look on the boy’s face as he said it would have had a more normal person rolling on the floor with laughter. Goodie just facepalmed.

Three months here? In this village? No, he would have seen them around. Oh…they meant in this world. Three months in this world, most of which would have been spent in orientation with Jeremy.

“And what exactly is it that you’re offering?” he eventually asked, not sure that there was any point continuing in listening to this idiot…but he was that desperate.

“We have the experience, we have the connections, and we have the resources. All of which we’re willing to share with you if you join us.”

“And you have the bullshit as well, apparently.”, Before the boy could respond, Goodie continued, “three months? Most of that would have been spent in orientation and travel time. In fact, I’m willing to bet this waggon train is the first real encounter you’ve had since getting here.”

The boy’s face reddened with anger, not just him, but his friends too.

“As for your resources, you’ve still got that generic crap that the city hands out to newcomers and you’re still wearing your clothes from earth, so I’m guessing…17 x 9… minus food, shelter…probably a bit of splurging…you should all have around 90 silver left. A tidy little sum to be sure, but will undoubtedly run out in about seven to eight months.”

Mr. Hopper tried to say something, but Goodie talked over him.

“No, you’re not here to help me, you’re not here to deal with my financial issues, or get that corrupt mayor off my back, or even stop the guy who I pretty sure is here to assassinate me on behalf of a human flower. You arseshytes are here to use me, the dumbass kid who doesn’t know better. To get me to join your gang so that you’ll have access to my resources, because you realised that you’re not going to be able to mooch of mommy and daddy anymore and the locals won’t put up with your bullshit. Well, FUCK YOU! AND FUCK THAT.”

For a second they all stood there in silence. Before anyone of them could speak, Goodie looked towards the field of people in the distance and said…

“Speaking of assassins”

They turned to look where he was facing.

Goodie watched as that prick who had been watching him all day started walking towards him. He, in turn, started to walk towards him.

He had Her Majesty circle round so she could take him from behind, and his armour, which had been hidden beneath his shroud of shadow vapour. His hand went to the knife at his side. He doubted that he would be able to use it, let alone be willing to. Actual, direct, hands covered in blood murder, was still something that he was still too cowardly to think about doing.

“Oh, and for future reference…”, He said without turning back, “…I’ve been here thirteen months.”