Brian sat in the boy's room the next day. As he normally found himself, he was alone. Hector had dove into his books yet again, doubtless attempting learn even more spells, or uncover the secrets of the world, or something. Watching his much older friend toil away in his studies made Brian glad he'd chosen a cleric for his role in the world. He didn't have to worry about all of the incessant research when all of his powers were given to him by an almighty being. That prospect in itself was unsettling if he took too much time to think about it, so he usually didn't.

Calvin, on the other hand, had come up with a great idea. He went into town looking for an odd job, something in day labor or maybe security, a task where his size and strength came in handy. Brian thought this was absolutely brilliant. Not only did it give Calvin a chance to get out and experience Trostenwald in a more intimate way, it also made him a few extra coins. Brian probably would have done something similar, if he hadn't already other plans.

So, those situations were what found him sitting alone in their shared room, starring blankly at the wall at nothing in particular. He did have something he wanted to accomplish that day, but making himself do it was another matter entirely. If there was one thing he hated more than anything else, it was the sensation of being lost. To not know where he was, or where he headed, was a nightmare for him, one which was unfortunately recurring through his time in Exandria. Of course, he was also well aware that this phobia contributed to his absolutely awful sense of direction, but that didn't help him much in solving it.

He looked at the wall for what felt like maybe ten minutes more before he finally got fed up with just sitting around. He stood and exited the room, bound for the armory. When he descended the exterior stairs and walked in through the entrance door, he found it much busier than normal. Therdin was there, of course, but there were also others. An elven woman spoke with a somewhat shorter human man about the merits of a shortbow. Two dwarves compared styles of greathelm. A human, halfling, and that pale yellow tiefling woman Brian had seen weeks prior stood in a semi-circle having a jovial conversation.

There was usually no one in the armory at all, so to see it so full intimidated Brian. Did he really belong in there amongst so many other warriors? Did he, with his blessed powers and skills given by the Gift of Knowledge, deserve to share this room of war with people who had dedicated their entire lives to fighting? These were philosophical questions he knew needed answering, but not then. In the immediate term, the most important thing was to get what he wanted and be on his way. To that end, he was glad no one occupied Therdin. He approached the tall ginger-haired elf, trying his best to hide his discomfort.

"Therdin!" Brian called out just before entering comfortable conversation distance. The elf looked up from the arrow he'd been messing with to regard Brian with a warm smile.

"Brian, hello! Good to see you," he said.

"Good to see you, too," returned the human.

"I heard your last mission didn't go so well. I'm glad to see you all made it out okay."

"I think we're all glad to be alive. Did Edgar tell you what happened?"

"He said you fought some people wearing animal heads, and that they were very strong."

"Yeah, that's the gist of it."

"Well, if you need anything to help out with them, don't hesitate to ask."

"Oh, I do need something, actually," Brian said. "Sorry, I got caught up in talking and forgot why I came down here."

"That's alright," Therdin said. "What's can I do for you?"

Brian hesitated for a few seconds. There was still time to go back, to be lazy and not face the outside world nor take the risk of getting lost. But, he'd already come this far. No need to be a coward now.

"Do you have a map? Of Trostenwald?" He added quickly. "I haven't gone into town alone since I got here because I have no idea where I'm going, and it's hard to remember because everything looks the same."

Therdin nodded. "It can be hard to get around. I do have maps for sale. Follow me."

The elf walked past Brian, back the way he came. Brian fell in behind him, following along quietly. He tried to avoid looking around. His discomfort at standing among so many other native denizens of Exandria accentuated just how isolated he had been. The only times he went out were with one or more of his friends. That gave him a safety net to fall back on. Here, even though he somewhat trusted Therdin, he didn't have that assurance. Maybe this land would feel more like a home if he went out of his way to be a part of it in moments other than when work forced him to.

That theory drove his feet to follow the elven quartermaster all the way to the far wall. Brian, of course, recognized this wall. It was the home for all the adventuring gear. Things like dungeoneering kits, lockpicking sets, camping supplies, etc. When he first arrived, Brian hadn't really been in the state of mind to pay much attention to this area. Now, it made perfect sense to find maps in it.

Therdin took a second to inspect the wall before removing a simple dark lacquered wooden case from its top shelves. He did this not with his hands, but with magic. The case floated down from a spot near the ceiling to land in his open palm.

"Here we go," he said as his hands closed around it. "One Trostenwald town map. The map itself is one gold, and the case is another."

"I have to pay for it?" Brian couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

"Yes," Therdin said, and then sighed. "It's one of the few Guild policies I don't agree with. But, every coin counts. So, even though you're already a member, you still have to pay for gear from the armory."

"Fair enough," Brian said. "I wasn't complaining, just a bit surprised. Here, two gold." He fished out a pair of coins and handed them over.

"Thank you very much. Your map..." Therdin trailed off as the map was exchanged for the gold. "Is there anything else?"

"That's everything. I hope it's not rude of me to cut out immediately, but I have some errands to run," Brian said.

"Hence the map, then." Therdin gave a nod. "Smart. Well, I don't want to keep you."

"Alright. Thanks, Therdin."

"You're welcome."

With that, Brian departed. He waited until he had exited the guild hall and descended to the foot of the hill just outside Trostenwald before he took out the map. It was smaller than he expected, only about a third the size of the case it came in. This was a blessing in disguise, however, as it made the unruly page easier to manage. Having been rolled up for gods knew how long, it didn't take well to being unfolded. When Brian passed through the town boundaries, he ducked right into an alleyway to inspect the map.

Just as he always suspected, the Adventurer's Guild hall sat on a hill in the southeast of the town, not far from the massive Ustaloch lake. This meant the natural route into the town took him down a side street. The main road cut straight through the middle of town, broken up by two large square courtyards, one if the former third and one in the latter. The Hills Ward made up most of the town exterior as it followed the farm lands wrapping around it. Close to the center this gave way to the Market District which surrounded the northern courtyard. The breweries were in the north, with streets built to facilitate them. The rest of town seemed to be largely residential with scattered businesses throughout.

Brian remembered his destination had been pretty close to the courtyard near Isalda's house. Judging by the map, that must've been the southern one. From there, he could just follow his ears. He made way in that direction, the map as a guide.

He expected to be afraid of walking alone through some strange town, but he didn't. First of all, it wasn't strange. Sure, he knew next to nothing about the place, but it was still familiar. It wasn't home, not by a long shot, but it felt at least a bit familiar.

Second, he flat out wasn't afraid. Maybe it was the light of Bahamut at his side, or the recent combat he'd been a part of, but he felt no threat at all while walking down the streets. Even without his weapons, Brian felt as safe as he possibly could given the situation. He walked on with his head held high, not a care in the world except for where he had to go. Strange, how he'd been so afraid of traveling alone but, now that he actually got around to doing so, it wasn't a big deal in the slightest.

Roughly forty minutes of walking took him to his destination. Finding it became easy once he was close enough. Once there, he walked through the doors to find a dwarven man, bald and with a grey beard flecked in black, his usually braided mustaches left unkempt. He put the final pound on what looked like the glowing edge of an axe head before setting it on the anvil.

"Lundgrum!" Brian called out. At the sound of his name, the dwarf looked toward him,

"Greetings there, lad. Welcome to Lundgrum's Ironworks." He met Brian halfway. "Ah, you're Ylva's friend, right?"

"I am," Brian confirmed with a nod.

"Well, what can I do for ye, then?"

"I was wondering if you had any crossbow bolts," Brian asked.

"I'm not much of a fletcher, per say, but I do have some bolts on hand." Lundgrum gestured for Brian to follow and he did, "So, how's life in the Guild?"

"It's... alright," Brian said slowly.

"Doesn't sound alright," Lundgrum called him out immediately.

"Well, if I'm being honest, the last mission didn't go so well. We're all okay, but it was hard." Brian didn't know why he was even bothering to say all of this. Lundgrum probably couldn't give two shits about him, a random customer. But, the dwarf had asked, so Brian answered.

The smith hummed in recognition. "I was a soldier in a past life, so I know all about difficult missions." Lundgrum opened the door to the back room behind the forge. "Not everything will go your way, but you have to take heart and keep moving forward."

"I know that," Brian responded immediately. "It's just hard."

"You just need some time to recover." Lundgrum said.

The dwarf entered the room, giving Brian a full view of it. The walls looked a bit different than he remembered. They still were lined with weapons and armor, but a gorgeous black kite shield dominated the right side, surrounded by arming swords which easily could pair with it. The smith had obviously been busy. If Brian hadn't come here for a purpose, he'd be tempted to shop around a bit.

"So," Lundgrum stopped next to a urn right of the door. "Are you looking for a full quiver, a half, or something else?"

"Um..." Brian hadn't been expecting that question. Dungeon Masters didn't tend to ask such things. "Lets go with a full quiver."

"Alright, that's twenty bolts for 1 gold each," Lundgrum said. "Will you be needing a quiver as well?"

"No, that's alright."

Lundgrum grinned. "Thought so. Give me a second to count them all out."

While the shorter man set about collecting the prize, Brian dug a gold from his pouch. He expected these things to be a bit more, but he'd never bring that up. When Lundgrum finished, Brian exchanged his money for a bundle of bolts.

"Thank ye very much," Lundgrum said. "Anything else?"

"No, that's all. Thank you, Lundgrum." Brian did his best to sound cheery.

"Of course, lad. Don't be a stranger now."

"I won't." Brian turned to leave.

"And, hey," Lundgrum called after him. Brian turned back around. "Stay strong out there. This world can be cruel, but you have to find strength in yourself, and in your friends. That's a holy symbol around your neck, right? Maybe try asking your god for guidance."

"I might do that. Thanks for the advice."

"Anytime, lad, anytime."

Brian left the store, bolts clutched in his left hand, Lundgrum's words echoing in his ears. What the dwarf said made a lot of sense. He'd never been particularly religious back on Earth. Talking to Bahamut never really appealed to him. The Platinum Dragon gave him power, but he'd never done anything in return, or even acknowledged the big man's presence outside of smiting bad guys. Maybe there was some merit to prayer. It wouldn't hurt to try.

After a few minutes of walking, it became apparent that he should have taken the quiver offered to him. To walk down the street looking like an ordinary citizen, but carrying a bunch of deadly crossbow bolts, was the height of awkwardness. Brian was sure every eye leered at him as he passed.

In that way, then, he was thankful for the relatively close proximity of his next destination. He came upon a little shop between two bigger buildings. Inside, it smelled like spicy mold, though not quite as unpleasant as he remembered. The same young elven girl stood behind the counter at the far end from the entrance.

"Welcome to Ashla's Assorted Alchemical! I'm Leithlee," she said.

"Hi," Brian returned as he approached the desk. "I won't take up too much of your time, just wondering if you have any potions of healing?"

"Ah, we just restocked but, unfortunately, that isn't saying much." Leithlee dipped behind the counter for a second. When she popped back up, she had two vials in her left hand, while the right carried a proper small bottle. All sloshed with a thick red liquid. "These two are just regular potions, and this one is a greater."

Brian considered them for a moment. "I think I would get more mileage out of the two regular."

"I agree," Leithlee said. She put the greater potion back. "For both of these, it's 100 gold."

"That's more or less what I expected to pay." Brian pieced out a hundred coins and then pocketed the vials. For once, he was thankful for his experience as an accountant. It made him a very fast counter. "Alright, that's all I needed," he said.

"Okay, thanks for stopping by!"

Leithlee was way cuter than Brian remembered. With that thought in mind, he left the building.

When he rejoined the streets outside, his path took him back to the Adventurer's Guild hall. Actually accomplishing what he'd set out to do, and without anyone's help, felt good. Much moreso than he ever could have expected, really. While he didn't exactly have a spring in his step, he returned to the hall with his head held high.

Once back, he went straight to the end of the hall where his team's two rooms were located. He stopped not at the boys' door, however, but the girls'. There, he hesitated. Brian stood within knocking distance, but he did not. This reluctance went in a flash. He'd already come this far. It would be an insult to his efforts previously to give up now. He raised his fist to place three short raps on the door.

"It's me," he called through it.

"Come in," returned the voice of Tiffany.

A deep breath, and Brian opened the door. There within he found what he'd been hoping to, Tiffany alone. She lounged on her bed, reading a book. Not, Brian noticed, the adventuring guide she'd shown him a little bit ago. This one was mustard colored and had no design on the cover. When her company entered, she put it down next to the pillow and stood.

"Hi, Brian," she said to him.

"Hi," he returned. They met in the middle of the room. A heartbeat passed, and he thrust the bolts to her at arm's length. "I wanted to give these to you," he said.

Tiffany looked from him, to the bolts, and back again. "Um... Thanks, but, why?"

"For having my back in that last fight." It sounded so simple when he said it out loud.

"Oh, that? It's nothing." Tiffany tried to deflect.

"It's not nothing." Brian wasn't having it. "You've brought me back twice now. And, Ylva would've died, too, if you hadn't saved me back there. That's not to mention all the clutch kills you've had. You're our biggest damage dealer and, frankly, a better healer than I am. None of us would be here without you. I wouldn't be here. So, I wanted to say thank you."

Tiffany looked at him for a long time. Brian wasn't sure how many seconds eked on by, but it was certainly enough to make him fear she would reject his gift. Had he gone to far? Did he misread the situation? Was this completely inappropriate and damaging to their already fragile relationship? All of these terrible thoughts and many more swirled through his mind. He had just started to lower his hand when Tiffany spoke up.

"Okay," she finally said. The blonde reached out and took the bolts.

"There's also..." Brian fished out the health potions. Tiffany inspected them for a second before taking them in her other hand.

"Thank you, Brian. I don't think you need to thank me, but I appreciate it," Tiffany said. She laid the things on her bed.

"I disagree." Brian shook his head. "I owe you my life two times over."

"You don't owe me anything," denied Tiffany. "I know it probably sounds so tired, at this point, but what Ylva said during our first job really resonated with me. We survive together. I don't know what any of this shit is, none of us do. The only thing I do know, is that this team is all I have in this world. I won't let it fall apart."

Her determination took him by surprise, yet Brian couldn't help but smile. Of everyone, Tiffany had put the most work into becoming a true adventurer. In a way, that made her the best amongst them. Really, Brian shouldn't have been so shocked to see her this dedicated. It made perfect sense.

"That sounds good to me. Why don't we both make sure everyone makes it out of this alive?" He said.

"That's what I plan on doing," confirmed Tiffany. "Thank you for these things, especially the bolts. I was running out."

"I figured you might be," Brian said. "Let me know if you ever want to hold another study session."

"I will."

Silence enfolded them. Brian could already feel awkwardness begin to close its grimy fist. He refused to let something like that ruin what was an otherwise nice moment. He had to bail.

"Alright, well, I guess I'll be seeing you," he said.

"Oh, I'm sure Ylva or Hector will think of something to drag us in to," she joked.

Brian chuckled. "Yeah, probably. Later, Tiffany."

He gave her a quick wave, and left out the door. His heart pounded as he returned to the boys' room. It lay empty, which suited him perfectly. That went about as well as he could've possibly imagined. Tiffany accepted his gift, and they even had a little heart-to-heart, however brief. Maybe, just maybe, they were getting to a point where he could call them friends. Maybe—most likely, honestly—he was overthinking things. Tiffany certainly didn't seem to hate him, or even dislike him. Maybe he was projecting. Whatever the truth was, he felt they'd made some progress as teammates if nothing else. That was a result he could be proud of.