After they’d pulled themselves together, they made plans to gather in the taproom for breakfast, which Layla missed because Roan insisted she have seconds. She did not object. The other three were just about done with the heaping piles of thick-sliced bacon and eggs when Layla emerged from the stairwell, looking very much like the cat that ate the canary.

Rory: You look pleased with yourself.
Layla: Rory, it may have bypassed you as a healthy person, but this is literally the first time I’ve ever had sex without having a migraine after. So yeah, I had as much of it as I could squeeze in.
Jack: There anythin’ left of poor Roan?
Layla: The man has Stamina to spare. I definitely knocked him out last night, though. Said it was the best sex he’d ever had, and whether I was staying in town any longer. I think I might be clinically addictive.
Erin: You’re clinically irredeemable. Was he good?
Layla: Honey, he was a fucking Greek god. If I weren’t a literal sex demon, I think he’d have broken my pelvis.

Rory groaned, and the girls were pretty sure it wasn’t exasperation this time.

“So, I think I’ve figured out how the leveling works,” Layla sat down and motioned for Gita.
“Oh?” Erin mumbled through a slice of bacon.
“Roughly ten ‘tasks’ per level, yeah?” Rory grinned around his mug.
“Yeah, bout that. Seems to vary based on how difficult the ‘task’ is,” she replied and thanked Gita for the steaming mug of tea.
“So, it’s easy to cap our skills, but harder to level up our classes?” Jack swallowed and immediately brought his spoon up for another bite.
“The skills progression is in series, but the levels seem to be fixed. So it takes say twenty experience to get to level two in a skill, but it takes a hundred to get from class level two to level three. But then it takes thirty to get from two to three in the skill, but still takes a hundred to get from level three to level four,” Layla mused as she sipped her tea.
“You figured this out while you were boning the viking monster slayer?” Erin laughed.
“I mean, I’ve been paying attention to it since we got here,” she smiled demurely. “I can’t say I was thinking of math last night. Or this morning,” she mmmm’d appreciatively into her cup.
“She’s right though,” Rory added. “It’ll be easy to level our skills at first, but seem hard to level our classes. Then as we get stronger, the skills will come slower but the class levels will be constant. That must be why we can still earn experience while our skills are capped. There’s no way you’d be able to level any further. Each class only levels on a few skills, and those skills are capped by your stats. The stats are only raised by leveling your class, it seems.”
“You two should have been mathemeticians,” Jack pointed his fork across the table.
“Actually, I minored in math in college,” Layla grinned.
“But you didn’t finish, El,” Erin laughed at her.
“No point. MIT’s online classes are free, and dad dying when I was nineteen meant I would never need a real job,” she shrugged.
“Bloody tuna heiress. Tuna, really,” Rory groaned.
“Meh, that’s why I sold my shares to Aunt Sara and invested the money in tech stocks,” she pointed a spoon back at Jack. “Did you guys know I own like six percent of Fire & Fury,” she giggled. “Well, owned. I would guess my stock portfolio doesn’t really matter here.”
“I’m sure we’ll get back some day,” Erin reached across the table, offering her hand to Layla.
“Are you shitting me?! I’m not going back. Ever. I don’t have migraines, or depression, or the beginning stages of schizophrenia, or asthma, or literally anything. I’m never going back there,” she stared at the table, her quiet voice full of fire.
“None of us are going back unless we can put out the bloody sun,” Rory whispered.

Savka, the half-elf girl, brought them a final round of tea and made change for Rory’s coin.

Jack: Maybe we don’t talk about that out loud. Especially in the ‘white empire’.
Rory: Fair ‘nough.
Erin: What are we gonna do?
Layla: I vote ‘get the fuck out of Dodge’ as our first option.
Jack: Yeah, there’s gotta be somewhere in this world less awful than this place.
Erin: The people here don’t seem so bad.
Layla: Yeah, hon, I’m sure there were a lot of really nice people in Germany in the forties too.
Rory: There probably were, Layla. Most folks don’t have a lot of say in what their government does, especially with fascist regimes. They’re mostly cowards, not villains. Not that I’m excusing the bloody Nazis. Gita over there probably won’t run up a pyre or a noose for us herself, but you pop your horns and tail out in the taproom, she’ll definitely call the whitecoats to come round us up.
Erin: Alright, enough screwing around. We’re leaving, right?
Jack: I think so. We should buy some food for the road, and try to figure out where to go.
Layla: Away from the empire’s territory is good enough for me.

“Savka, love, tell me, how far does the Empire stretch?” Rory grinned at her, which she returned.

Erin: I think she’s got a crush on you, Rory. You’re gonna have to turn that smile down a notch.
Rory: Hush, you.

“From the Tavar Peninsula on the Vylornes Sea, to the Amber Coast on the Great Eastern Sea, and from the Northern Front to the southern tip of the Augrvein Forest. My da says it’s four hundred miles by over eight hundred on the long edge,” she recited with a smile.
“That’s a long stretch. Do you know where we could get a map?” Layla asked her.
“The guild hall will have them for sale, and the Bureau office in the center of town will have a big one that’s the most accurate,” she smiled again.
“Thanks again, Savka. Here, breakfast plus a tip. Do we need to do anything to close our account?” Rory asked.
She blinked a moment, “No, I’ll let ma know you’re heading out. Will you be coming back?”
“Not sure, sweetie. We’re gonna do some explorin’” Erin offered.
The girl’s downcast face lifted a bit, “Oh. Then I’ll let her know you might come back and stay.”

Layla: Yep, kid’s sweet on you, Rory.

He shot here a glare and cleared the rest of his bacon, washing it down with a gulp of lukewarm tea, then the four of them readied themselves to head out the door.

“Pale one, where is Roan?” one of the Red Wolves had descended the stairs, “He is not in his room.”
“Nah, he’s still in mine. Tuckered him out for breakfast,” Layla chuckled.
“Like a demon, you are,” he laughed back, but the heat in his gaze was palpable.

Jack: Don’t even think about it. Down, kitty.
Layla: Aww, he’s LITERALLY asking for it.
Erin: No, El. Time to go. Snack later.

“Sorry, fella. Next time, I guess,” she blew him a kiss and bounced out the door behind the others.
“You are ridiculous,” Rory smirked at her.
“Are you kidding? This place is an all you can eat buffet, and I’m ‘hongry’” she laughed.

-----

The Hunter’s Guild hall was an elaborate hunting lodge, nestled against the outer wall of the southern edge of town. Beyond the wall, they could see what the map labeled as the Fyrswood, a thirty mile stretch of thick forest, with numerous markers depicting the lairs of various predators they were informed, in no uncertain terms, they should avoid. 

The clerk at the Hunter’s Guild had informed them it was a silver each for rank badges, and since they were unranked, they’d be given “Clay” rank badges, no exceptions. When they informed the clerk they were without imperial papers, she began an increasingly uncomfortable interrogation that Rory finally put to rest with a dazzling display of charm and a series of surprisingly credible lies. 

No, they weren’t imperial citizens. Yes, they’d come from the edge of the empire’s territory. Yes, from an island just off the coast of the Tavar Peninsula (thank you, Savka). No, they weren’t planning to stay in town. No, they didn’t want to pay five silvers each for the Guild to expedite their imperial travel papers. Yes, they would take care of the papers at the Bureau hall in the center of town. Yes, they understood without travel papers they were subject to search and interrogation by any guard, knight, or inquisitor. Yes, they understood it was the Guild’s duty to report undocumented travelers within the city. No, they still didn’t want to pay five silvers to expedite their papers.

Rory: What a fucking racket they’re running here.
Jack: Even my country ass knows extortion when I hear it.
Erin: We got the map. We can just leave, right?
Layla: Fuck this.

“Bewitch,” Layla whispered to the air, and a cold wind blew past the group and toward the clerk. 

“Be a doll for us and scratch Rory off the ledger. We’re gonna head out now, alright hon,” Layla cooed at her.
The clerk’s glazed eyes focused on Layla for a moment, “Oh… do you… have to go? Can’t you… can’t you stay, for a while?”
“Fraid not, doll. Gotta split. Time to go, boys and girls,” Layla turned on her heel and strode toward the door.
“Layla, how long is that gonna last,” Erin’s heavy boots stomped against the paving stones as she caught up to her.
“Bout long enough for us to reach the south gate and split this Nazi shithole,” she looked over her shoulder, back at the hall.
“You’re not actually sure, are you?” Rory was nearly power-walking as Jack jogged to catch up to them.
“Nope. Move your ass,” Layla shot back.

“Well, so much for comin' back some time,” Jack sighed. “Layla, this is your one Leroy moment per dungeon, you got it?”