Chapter 6.3 – Alone
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Leather armor, a shield, and a sword. A nice satchel which carried a book, as well as a sack which held onto a ring, one silver and eighteen copper, and two pieces of torn fabric. Nedoma stood silently, thinking about how he had finished preparing far sooner than expected. He soon realized that it should come at no surprise, given that his possessions consisted only of what he had obtained in the past few weeks. A thought both opportunistic and guilt-ridden came to mind as he took survey of the contents of the room. If I assume that something happened to both the guild master and the temporary replacement, what does that mean everything here? Should I take it? But what if they do eventually come back and find out that I stole from them? Nedoma eyed some flasks resting on a shelf. I don't even know what most of this stuff does anyway. If there was something that might help me... Nedoma turned to look at the bookshelf, where the original version of the beginner book rested. It would be that.

As he opened up his own version of the book and flipped through, the amount of filled pages paled in comparison to the master copy. Well, if the original ever gets 'lost', then that means anyone who ever happens to come along after me would be out of luck. However... Nedoma turned his attention to the copies which had made their way back to this guild hall. These should be fine. Nedoma quickly flipped through their pages to find a copy that seemed legible enough and went further than his own. To his horror, he discovered that nearly all of them appeared to stop around the same point that he had reached in his own copy. Nedoma quietly put back all the books and abandoned the idea. I doubt before I come back to Luton I'll have finished learning all of the skills I copied down anyway. With no desire to take anything else in the room, he decided it was time to leave. With just a simple nod towards the main desk, Nedoma gave his farewell to the room.

****

Drops of sweat hang precariously around the edge of Nedoma's jaw before taking flight. The sun, having just barely passed it's peak, had been ruthlessly performing its duty. The additional layer of armor which acted as protection against monsters lacked resistance towards the warm rays. His only respite was the brief moments when the wind passed through the area. But it's cool touch could not compare to the even colder memories it brought up. The sound of dirt crunching beneath feet, the gentle shaking of trees and brush in reaction to the wind, the overhead sun. A memory that seemed distant only for self comfort, not in time. As if the world were attempting to reenact the scenario, the only thing missing was an additional pair of feet walking along the path with him.

With each pass of wind, the sound of the surrounding forests resonates once more. Nedoma's state of mind sways back and forth between a state of calm and alertness. His right hand rests upon the handle of the sword in his sheathe, signaling that in Nedoma's mind it was a matter of when, and not if. He has already realized that he made a few mistakes since he left earlier that morning. The most glaringly obvious being not having the foresight to pack any food or drink for this excursion. Somehow in the back of his mind, he had figured that he would sustain himself on whatever he killed. Not quite recognizing that in his case this meant a whole lot of goblin meat. A food which to most adventurers triggered an instinctive gag at the thought of consuming it. Nedoma could only hope that he find something more appealing when he returned home.

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