Deirdre is wrist deep inside the guts of our last Monster kill for today. It’s another successful outing that has resulted in us packing our backpacks full of prime cut Monster meat. Unlike yesterday’s haul we’ve only managed two kills, and yet we’re already calling it for the day. Sundays it seems requires a change of pace for Monster Hunters. 

Has it really been a whole week since I arrived here?

I’m honestly pretty proud of how fast I’m taking on this new world. Being transported somewhere strange would be scary enough for most folks, throw in all the bodily changes, the magic, the Monsters and I'd said I'm doing pretty spectacularly. The rocketship ride has no breaks as they say. And really, anything less would feel like a disappointment. My previous self wouldn’t even recognize the new me, and not because I look like a cheap horror movie devil, no the old me was used to wallowing inside, never pushing myself. I'd given up after university, let work get the better of me, and only stole tiny bits of happiness here and there. I can’t stand the thought of being like that again. No matter what, I’m going to do great things this time around.

Waldonton is absolutely packed by time we arrive back from our short trip out West. Monday is apparently the common day of rest, and Sunday is more or less a market day. Perhaps it is better to say Sunday is a market day where folks make a bigger deal out of buying and selling whatever non-perishables and goods they’ve been stocking up with over the week. That’s not to say everyday isn’t a market day, but the local lumber mills don’t chop and cut at full capacity on Sundays and Mondays, nor do other various trades operate like they do the rest of the week. Deirdre assures me this is a pretty common practice far and wide.

More importantly, this week has been illuminating to me in several ways. Deirdre has been a big help in getting me all caught up on the ins and outs of this world, and The Newcomer Building has been a boon of information too. Between Mellisa, Evans, and that very nice older lady named Joann they were able to set me straight on a few things. 

A lot of the information they were tossing my way went over my head in the moment, but I've had time to reflect, to let it all simmer.

Language, as it turns out, is a very strange thing in this second world. We’re essentially in our very own tower of Babel where everyone can speak and be understood regardless of language. To write something out, or speak in a different language you have to actually detach the meaning of your words when you do so, otherwise it just comes out in the universal tongue. Why? More mysteries of the world I guess, or maybe some scholar out there has it all figured out.

We’ve got some serious competing theologies going on in this second world too.

Cults it would seem are alive and well. Not cults like I'm used to, but old fashioned religious orders. Details unclear, but with magic being the reality of our situation it would seem folks are more than willing to prop up prophets and oracles claiming miracles. Even with reincarnation and magic being incredibly real there don’t seem to be any gods from on high declaring themselves responsible for it. Instead the closest thing around are rumors and legends of individuals so powerful that they have ascended beyond mortality becoming their own sort of divine. Real gods that walk among us. Old Earth religions have their enclaves, but they're small for obvious reasons. There is also apparently a group of mostly Reborn folk that are firm in their belief that this is all just a simulation. 

For me, I mostly don’t care. I don’t need an explanation to make the most of my situation. A second chance at life? Magic? I’m going to live my life about the same no matter who is theologically correct.

Time wise, things are tricky. The local year is 1880, by shire reckoning as Bilbo would say. I’ve learned that the lands beyond Waldonton are essentially in their third round of major civilization, as far as we know. Our region of civilization has been coasting along the coattails of a trading empire across the sea. That empire, Regnum Solis, has been minting similar coins for 1880 years now, hence the year.

Silly Mellisa, what was that about ‘No ancient ruins to adventure out to and find things in’ are you so very sure, hmm?

On top of what year it is here, we’ve of course got folks from about 1950-2050 Earth years being Reborn. That means some folks in their old ages right now were born in the late 1800s of Earth and are sharing a common space with people born in the 2030s of Earth. Completely wild to think about. I wonder why there isn't more magical technology then, we've clearly got the knowledge base for all kinds of machines. Another thing to find out some day.

Oh heck, and the night sky. So this one takes the cake. There is no moon. Well actually there are three tiny moons out there, but like, at night it’s just dark, no moon phases, no nothing. I’m no rocket surgeon but that's got to make it a hell of a time predicting tides and stuff, not that anyone with a lick of sanity would sail beyond sight of the coastline. Deep oceans here are beyond deadly. Sea creatures that turn Monster are very very very and bad news. Ships hug the coastlines for safety in nearly all circumstances.

Deirdre was a font of information about Monsters, obviously, since she's so interested in killing them.  

Monsterization, apparently is a very natural process. Animals absorb latent magic like all living things. An animal that's big enough, has a small chance of that absorption going wrong. Instead of magic sitting inside that animal harmlessly it turns malignant warping the body and the very essence of the creature driving it mad. The bigger a Monster the more warped it will be, and the longer it’s been a Monster. It also turns them into a magic sponge. This of course, being the reason Monster meat is so magic dense and great for Mana regeneration. 

When a creature goes mad and turns Monster it wants above all to tear apart other magically dense living things and consume their flesh. They’ll target each other, the larger ones driving the smaller ones off, and they’ll of course target people, the most magic dense things around. The study of Monsters and monsterization is apparently a pretty big deal. Learning why some of them establish hunting grounds, or hold a territory, vs running off or wandering could mean a huge deal for the safety of towns and cities.

Housing wise, I’m pretty much all settled in. I’m going to be able to pay Paul tonight if our meat and parts sell well, Monster parts I mean. That's the plan for today. First up we're going to sell our haul of meat, then it's a quick trip back to Deirdre's place to fetch the remainder of her Monster parts. 

The trip through town is slow. Throngs of people crowd popular stalls, and lines for businesses reach outside the doors. Deirdre and I stick shoulder to shoulder as we maneuver our way in. Waldonton's commerce areas are cut up pockets of conveniently similar trades. It's all haphazard and clearly unplanned, but the town still ended up with a side street that is essentially a butcher's row, and our destination.

Naturally the block of butchers abuts a couple of warehouses dedicated to hanging, smoking, salting and doing all sorts of other things to animal products. At least I assume so. Mostly I only know is smells pungent and gamey here. Deirdre settles on two fast talking butchers manning a counter recessed into a building, one is avian, one is serpentine. Both wearing appropriately red stained aprons.

It takes a two finger wave and a gesture to her now held aloft backpack for one of the butchers to break from the counter and come around to a side door. I follow behind Deirdre, backpack full of sloshing Monster meat at the ready. We're ushered into a half open room with long tables and what must be tools of the trade. This place looks a little more upscale than our previous sale locations. Inside Deirdre dumps her backpack's contents onto an empty table and I follow suit. The serpentine man, with small purple and green splotches of scales decorating his exposed skin immediately goes to work. As he drops them into different piles I hear terms like spare, hock, flank, and round.

After the whirling show he prompts Deirdre with a simple figure.

"70."

To which, Deirdre quickly counters with a higher figure. 

"100."

The back and forth is like a choreographed dance which ends with Deirdre pointing toward the pile of big steak looking cuts and demanding 85 Dallions, which the butcher agrees to. 85 Dallions, is a lot of money.  My rent for the month is only 150 Dallions, and I'll be getting an entire half of the 85 Dallions. Monster Hunting once again is proving to be very lucrative. 

A quick stop to wash off then we're marching across town towards Deirdre's place. She is situated in a fairly nice building. It's got red brick all around the base, with wood painted white making up the remainder of the first floor and the vaulted roof besides the siding and beams which are painted black. I wouldn't call it an apartment complex, it's more like a big block of single story rowhouses. Fancy to a point, but still frugal in my estimation. Nothing really differentiated Deirdre's door, it was simply the third from the end, counting from East to West. Outside is a hook on which we leave our empty lootsacks hanging.

With a deadly serious look etched on her face Deirdre holds the door open, inviting me in.

I'm met with long wooden floorboards that look shiny from good care, very prim and proper. Just inside is a place for coats or such, strangely devoid of coats.  Deeper inside I can see that her apartment is not at all like I expected. There are no decorations of any kind. Everything is uncluttered and functional. Chairs tucked under table, tablecloth perfectly centered. Jars, plates, bowls, mugs and glasses stacked or arranged neatly on shelves. Some simple kitchen accoutrements, all hanging in their places.

Her bed is even made with crisply tucked sheets. Not a mote of dust floats around. She’s a clean freak to say the least.

Stepping past me Deirdre makes for a desk drawer. In lockstep behind I can see from over her shoulder that there is a collection of teeth, tusks, claws, and stranger things still. Hooves perhaps? Is that a bundle of whiskers? Goodness, are those hollow tubed fangs?

Gathering them all up she adds them to her regular travel bag, not the bloody monster meat pack of course.

I was hoping to get a sneak peak into the real Deirdre. Maybe see something about her hobbies, or something to showcase her personality, but the room is so impersonal. Drats.

Smirking, I note that I did learn something.

Well, at least I can see that she can't reach the top shelf above her little kitchenette sink. 

"Alright, this is my stash of Monster parts. We'll see if we can find a good buyer for them. Waldonton doesn’t have much of an alchemist or enchanter presence, just a few small fish that do minor things, like maintaining the magic water pumps and making potions for different health effects."

Stopping in her tracks Deirdre turns on me, reaches out and grabs hold of my sleeve. 

"Right, I almost forgot. This," she says, gesturing the my olive green tunic top, "has to go."

Momentarily confused I can't help but stammer

"I-it does?"

"Yes. And frankly more besides. Evelyn, please spend some of your money. You need proper clothes. You might want to also get yourself a set of robes on top of new trousers and shirts. Maybe a pair of good cloaks to help keep you warm when it gets colder. Oh, and ensure that you have belt space and pockets. You never know when you’ll lose your backpack and you’ll be left with only the things on your belt and in your pockets, best to be prepared."

"Right, yeah, I guess I can't wear these clothes from the Newcomer Building forever."

Deirdre sighs, as is her norm around me. 

"Just focus on getting clothes with extra padding on the knees and elbows, and higher quality thicker weaves for protection. Actually, I'll just go with you, knowing you you'll just get the wrong sorts of things."

"Hey, I'm not that bad..."

"Really, have you even counted your Mana yet? Determined how much you have?"

Shoot, I really do need to do that don't I? But on the other hand... what's the point? my Mana is basically always full enough to cast my Spells. What could go wrong.

"Uh, I was busy?" I say, wincing.

I mean, I was busy last night.

"Come on," Deirdre replies, making for the door.

What follows is a mad scramble back into the hub of central Waldonton. Thousands mill the street buy and sell their, well, whatever it is they buy and sell. We make it to some larger traditional businesses. I recognize an anvil sign which I know is home to a weapon shop, but that's not our destination. Instead Deirdre leads us to a small shop filled with shelves of glass bottles and bundles of herbs. It's got to be some sort of alchemist business. Unlike outside, it's not brimming with people. There's an elfy lady stooped behind a counter, the proprietress presumably. Entrenched between two shelves is a young woman keenly reading labels on a series of glass bottles containing yellow, orange and gold colored tonics, wholly lost to the goings-on of the world around her.

Deirdre wastes no time, she's got her Monster bits out and is talking shop with the lady behind the counter in record speed. The results are a mixed bag. The lady was happy to take on a few items, claws, tusks, teeth. Unfortunately she wasn't sold on the other parts. This has got to be a result of the situation Deirdre mentioned before, perhaps Waldonton's crafting industry in this sector just isn't that resource hungry. What entrepreneur is going to set up an exotic alchemy shop in a small countryside town?

When that business is concluded I take the opportunity to slake my thirst for knowledge.

"Um, Ma'am, question if I may. Can you tell me about your business, what makes certain parts more valuable?" 

As I do, Deirdre wanders off.

"Aww, well young woman, that's quite the topic," the proprietresses elf ears bounce in time with her smile, "You see, a great deal magic resides inside Monster parts. Depending on the part you can grind down, melt, or boil the magic into all sorts of different substances which can be mixed with other things to make various items.

"Like potions?"

"Yes, potions are a staple. For mending wounds, for general maladies, for energy, for sleep. All kinds really."

"Ah, well thank you-" I nearly, but don't quite finishing saying.

"And these please." Deirdre interjects.

She's added three small corked bottles to the counter. Each full with dark colored liquid. I want to say it's red, but it's nearly as brown as it is red.

The saleswoman simply removes a small amount of the coin she was about to hand over.

Walking out of the shop Deirdre passes the small bottles my way.

"Emergency healing potions, keep one on your belt, one in your bag, and one where you live. I've keep some extra on me for you just in case these past few days, but it's time you start taking on some responsibilities while we hunt. They work great for things like open wounds, but won't do as much against poisons."

"Right, thanks Deirdre."

"Don't thank me, the cost is coming out of your share of the Monster parts."

Oh right, of course.

I had it in my head that today was going to be easy. We had a very short hunt, only killed two Monsters. Instead, I'm being dragged all around town to shop for things. Apparently absolutely everything is wrong with me. Which fair, I get I don't exactly know what I'm doing, but still.

My boots? Wrong. I need better ones, these are going to fail me in mud, or fall apart too soon. 

Socks? All wrong. I need different types for when it's hot and when it's cold.

My belt? Too flimsy, doesn't do anything but keep my pants on apparently. 

As we go from shop to shop my haul is getting heavier and heavier, but all the while Deirdre just points me to the next set of things to buy without reprieve. 

Worst of all, I had assumed I'd be getting very fashionable looking cloaks. My dreams were of course dashed when Deirdre recommend a plain drab green cloak and a plain ugly grey cloak. Where is the style? Where is the Panache?

Just as I think we've perhaps done it, finally finished buying my adventuring gear Deirdre takes me to a second tailor. Walking inside its clear this tailor's specialty is under garments.

"Okay, set all that down and lets get you better underwear. I'm sure you're wearing something truly silly on underneath."

"What? Deirdre don't make fun of my bras. The Newcomer Building actually had some really nice sports bras. I was terrified this world wouldn't even have modern bras."

"Modern bras are an abomination," says Deirdre simply, with a perplexed frown, "Here, you need something like this."

What she hands me was a breathable and sturdy sports bra. The quality was higher than my previous set, and I really had no room to reject an experienced Hunter's opinion on proper Monster Hunting gear.

"Okay, is there a changing room or something? I should try these on, if I'm allowed to."

"Yes, follow me, and try on everything. They'll be clean. Everyone knows how important hygiene is, otherwise diseases and such would be rampant."

"Right."

Deirdre snaps another object off a shelve handing it over my way.

"The next size up, in case you need it."

Nestled in a corner were some curtained off changing areas which I promptly stepped into. I of course left the perpetually displeased looking Deirdre on the other side of the curtain.

Pulling off my old bra was a welcome relief after such a tiring day. Trying to wrestle on this new sports bra onto my already dirty body was most certainly not. Really it was kind of sort of gross, and I was glad they were going to thoroughly wash this if it didn't fit right, which it clearly didn't. I couldn't even get this thing over my chest, so I pulled it back off, battling with my horns to release the straps.

Second bra in the next size up, same exact story.

"Um, hey Deirdre?"

"Evelyn?"

"Can I get some larger sizes please."

She didn't reply. Instead I stood, naked from the waist up, simply waiting.

"Deirdre?"

Without warning the curtain parted just enough for Deirdre to squeeze through stepping fully into the small space with me.

"Here, the next two sizes up, and underwear too," says Deirdre, straight laced and calm.

"D-deirdre what are you doing? Get out," I reply exasperated, my blush mounting.

"What?" 

Her face was maddingly stoic, emotionless. 

"Get out Deirdre!"

I have my arms over my chest but really, she's getting and eye full anyways.

"Why?"

Am I speaking Spanish to her or something!?

"I'm naked!" I whisper yell.

Deirdre eyebrows knitted even harder, fully showcasing her confusion. 

"We're both girls?"

"Out out out!" I decry, pushing her to the curtain, "and I can select my own damned underwear," I continue, firmly and with what I can only assume was stalwart conviction that pierced even Deirdre's thick skull. 

Internally of course, I am still screaming.

Where does she get off bursting in here like that, so what if we're both girls!