PanQuil Town encompassed much of the top-most portion of the rock face. It carved downwards with some walkways that led to far distant cave entrances where minecarts full of ore and other mineral deposits could be seen. Platforms were erected near the waterfall at regular intervals where townsfolk gathered water by hanging their buckets from hooked ropes and then pulled them back in with catchpoles.

Some entrances looked ramshackle with splintered support beams that hung loosely to the wall, their ropes dangling uselessly to the floor. Still, others were hollowed out in odd ways, more jagged and irregular compared to the smooth, well-trafficked areas. The further down he looked, the more inconsistent the holes became.

The people here were primarily [Human], but one out of five was of another race. [Elves] and [Halflings], [Giantmen] and even rarely [Beastmen] of various origins seen talking or hurrying from one cave to another, laden with cargo or work tools as they went along with purpose.

Quintin even saw what looked like a chain-lowered box that reminded him of an elevator. Every so often, it could be seen transporting people downward to a variety of stops, and on one occasion, even went straight down to the forested place at the very bottom.

There was no way to count just how many people lived here by sight alone; This was merely the outside walkways. Quintin turned to look at the raised wooden signboard that marked his destination. The [Adventurer's Guild] was within reach, and he didn't hesitate any longer.

He began walking through the entrance and noticed a strange glowing plantlife attached to the ceiling. It struck him that this was the standard light source for the caves.

Identify.

Quintin realized how it sustained itself and muttered, "Magic," under his breath before continuing onward. He noticed the ceiling was deepening and was relieved— the thought of tight spaces made for constricted methods. Although Quintin tended to squeeze the life out of others, it didn't mean he wanted that same restriction of means and movement.

He shook his head and thought, That doesn't matter. I'm not expecting a fight. Even if there is, I won't believe I'm at a disadvantage in a complex of tunnels.

People passed him by without much regard. Some were running, others, clearly drunk groped ineffectually to the wall. Signboards told passersby where their destinations were. Quintin saw signs for a variety of stores that split off from the main tunnel he followed.

"[Brockham's Hammers], [Anvil of Fate], [Blowtorch & Sons]," he [Identified] some of them and idly put a hand to his chin. They were different stores with different specialties.

The writing on the signs is gibberish to me, but when I [Identify] them, it turns it into something I can read. I wonder if it works the same for a book? I wonder how it describes a random person?

A drunken [Human] man stumbled down the corridor as Quintin looked at him.

So maybe a person or place needs to be named to gather more in-depth information? Perhaps I'll ask Vissitri about that later.

Vissitri was nestled inside Quintin's [Battle-Robe]. From time to time, he would feel a tickling sensation of ears flicking against his skin, perhaps listening in on conversations from down the winding corridors.

The signs kept presenting themselves as he walked deeper and deeper. To Quintin, it felt like he had been walking for nearly twenty minutes before the sign he had been looking for came within view. PanQuil Town's [Adventurer's Guild] split off into a more significant corridor than most of the others beforehand.

Identify.

"Finally. What great opportunities await me inside?" He said.

Quintin jolted down the corridor, unable to resist the idea of the adventures to come.

He slowed after a few moments as he saw a group of five coming the opposite way in the tunnel. All of them wore shining, polished metal armor. An insignia stood out on their spaulders of steel swords crossed inside a red circle. The clank of metal greaves, boots, and plate armor rubbing finely against each other echoed out.

The two groups quickly closed the gap between each other. A man from the five suddenly turned his head to regard Quintin and spoke, "Haven't seen this one around. Think ee's lost, Karr? Should we intervene?"

A cone-helmeted man seemed to consider something before speaking, "It's none of our business either way. We're going off to kill [Goblins]; you just want to find an excuse to delay."

The man who initially spoke shook with rage at having his thoughts read so quickly and lashed out at the most natural target. "Nice gauntlets. Did yir daddy buy 'em for ya?"

Quintin took a sidelong glance behind while pointing at himself and said, "You talking to me?"

The man took in a deep breath and was about to respond, when the cone-helmeted man cut him off, "Enough! Shut the fuck up, Mark. You're drunk and better be sober by the time we get to the mining operation."

The team of five started moving again to leave, but not before the man named Mark whispered in passing, "Good! Good goin' kiddo. This ain't over."

Quintin turned and watched them leave with amusement for a moment. He began walking their previous path and mumbled, "Not my fault he felt the need to say something."

He realized, thanks to [Sinisphere], that the man held an unreasonable amount of ill-intent towards him.

"Whatever. I guess it doesn't take much to set someone off, even doing nothing. Shit... I keep forgetting to use [Identify]," he grumbled. Thinking he must sound deranged while mumbling quietly to himself.

Vissitri chimed in, "You're just overwhelmed by a new experience. Those are the moments one is most prone to overlook small things."

Quintin took a deep breath and related through their internal connection, "True. There is a lot to take in. All these different people and ways of doing things."

The entrance soon came within sight. It was cleanly illuminated by [Star Moss] with a grand circular door set in a frame of metal hinges and clasps. A great, gilded dragon logo hung slightly above the door on polished white wood.

Some words stood out with straight black lettering: [Adventurer's Guild].

                         +***+
                     End of Precipice