Chapter 1 – Pants, Shirt, and the Adventurer’s Guild, Meow

Steph strode into Greenbrook with determination, her grip tightening around the frayed remnants of her rope belt. She made a valiant effort to project an air of belonging, though it was a challenge when her long tail, elegantly adorned, was coiled around her waist like an ill-fitting seatbelt. The fabric of her robe clung precariously to her form, held together more by sheer hope than any practical fastening, fluttering at the slightest movement as she navigated the familiar streets.

With each deliberate step she took, her tail twitched in silent protest, a vivid extension of her annoyance. “Don’t you start with me,” she murmured under her breath, casting a wary glance down at the furry appendage. In retaliation, the tail flicked against her hip with an indignant swish, as if it bore a grudge. Nearby, a group of villagers gathered around the well, their hushed whispers blending with the rustle of leaves, their gesturing hands pointing toward the shadowy depths of the forest, where secrets lay hidden.

It seems that the enigmatic “new catgirl” had inadvertently turned a serene meadow into a chaotic spectacle, her explosive antics sending a towering plume of smoke spiraling into the sky. This dramatic transformation had unwittingly become the talk of the town, serving as an unpredictable weather forecast for the locals.

System Notice: Reputation in Greenbrook +2 (Whispers and chatter fill the air. Quite loudly.)

Reputation Tag: “That Felari with the Boom.”

“Could be worse,” Steph grumbled, her ears flicking with annoyance, a slight twitch betraying her irritation. “At least they didn’t dub me Tail Calamity, meow.” The unexpected “meow” tumbled from her lips, a spontaneous sound that, despite its unintended nature, carried a surprising charm. A group of nearby Ordins perked up, their cheerful waves and bright smiles suggesting they took her playful remark as a polite greeting. The air around them buzzed with an infectious energy, making her frustration momentarily seem trivial.

Steph glanced down in embarrassment, a deep crimson blush creeping up her cheeks as she awkwardly waved back. A surge of panic surged through her, propelling her toward the bustling market square, where the vibrant colors and lively sounds of vendors filled the air. She hurried along the cobblestone path, her heart racing, eager to escape any further embarrassing encounters and hoping her voice wouldn’t falter again.

The Clothes Merchant

Beneath a vibrant, striped awning, a bustling stall burst with color and life, overflowing with an array of tunics in rich hues, intricately woven belts, and beautifully crafted leather boots. The owner, an Elvari woman with shimmering silver-green hair that cascaded like silken threads, possessed long, elegant pointed ears that framed her face. Her features seemed chiseled with the precision of a master sculptor, embodying an ethereal beauty that suggested a perfectionist’s touch. She momentarily paused from her delicate sewing, her keen eyes surveying the surroundings with both grace and alertness.

“Oh dear,” she remarked with a melodious lilt, her voice like a soft breeze on a warm day. “Your robe appears to have… perished in a most unfortunate manner.”

Steph glanced down at the charred remnants of his once-vibrant robe, the fabric now a tattered shadow of its former self, frayed and barely clinging to its original shape. “Yeah, it died heroically,” she replied with a faint smirk, adding a playful, “meow,” to lighten the mood.

The elf chuckled gently, the sound reminiscent of wind chimes swaying in the breeze. “Let’s get you into something less tragic, shall we?” She gestured toward a nearby rack. “How about a standard adventuring set? A sturdy shirt, well-fitted pants, durable boots, and an actual belt that won’t… betray you in your time of need.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief as she surveyed the offering.

Steph’s ears perked up, her heart racing at the sound of opportunity. “Music to my ears. How much do you want for it?”

The elf’s piercing gaze held hers for a moment before he replied, “Three silver coins.”

Her tail, usually held high with pride, drooped in disappointment. “All I have… is bread?”

The elf blinked in confusion, his brow furrowing slightly. “Pardon?”

Determined, Steph opened her inventory, a shimmering holographic display materializing before her. It showcased an array of items: five golden-brown rolls of bread, each warm and inviting; a peculiar yipping mushroom, vibrant and unusual; and a rather hefty-looking Functional Belt, a Quest Reward emblazoned with ornate designs.

"Would it be possible for me to swap the belt and the boots?" she suggested, her voice a blend of anticipation and uncertainty. Her eyes sparkled with hope, yet there was a hint of hesitation in her tone as she adjusted her stance, a subtle reminder of her discomfort with wearing boots.

The elf let out a soft, melodic sigh—an exquisite exhalation that seemed to resonate with the weight of centuries. His iridescent eyes, holding the wisdom of a thousand lifetimes, took a moment to survey the world around him, a tapestry of magic and folly that had unfolded over the ages. “If you would be so kind as to deliver this letter to the Adventurer’s Guild on my behalf, we shall consider our debts settled,” he said, his voice smooth like silk, yet edged with an unmistakable air of authority.

Mini Quest Received: “Courier Cat.”

Your task is to deliver the Elvari Merchant’s finely penned letter to the bustling Guild Hall, where aspiring heroes gather to share tales of valor and seek their next great adventure.

“Deal, meow!”

A few minutes later, Steph emerged, exuding confidence in a pristine cream blouse that caught the light beautifully. Her fitted brown trousers hugged her form perfectly, equipped with practical pockets that added both style and functionality. The tunic she wore was a striking piece, elegantly designed to accentuate her curves while providing an air of sophistication. To complete her ensemble, she draped a light, flowing cloak around her shoulders, its fabric whispering against her skin. A well-crafted satchel hung comfortably at her side, ready to carry whatever treasures she might find.

She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the shimmering waters of the fountain, a playful grin spreading across her face. “Alright, I finally look like a true adventurer now, meow,” she declared with a sense of satisfaction. Her tail, vibrant and swishing with pride, danced behind her like a banner of accomplishment. “But don’t let that go to your head, meow,” she chided it, a teasing glint in her eyes.

The Supply Run

The market buzzed with vibrant energy, alive with the sounds and sights of its diverse inhabitants. Drakkenborn blacksmiths pounded rhythmically at portable anvils, their muscular arms glistening with sweat as they shaped glimmering metal. Nearby, a group of Sylvani children with flower crowns giggled and danced, their colorful bouquets releasing soft, tinkling laughter whenever touched, spreading joy to passersby. Human merchants shouted passionately, their voices rising and falling in animated haggles that seemed to rival the excitement of an Olympic competition.

As she navigated through the bustling crowd, a burly Ordin man with arms like tree trunks caught her eye from his stall. He regarded her with a discerning gaze. “Planning an adventure? You’ll need rations to keep your strength, a sturdy bedroll for rest, a mana tonic to replenish your energies, and perhaps some rope for those unexpected moments. You definitely strike me as the spell-slinging type.”

“Chaos Mage,” Steph declared, her voice filled with pride as she puffed out her chest, a gleam of mischief sparkling in her eyes.

He froze, the color draining from his face. “...Oh. That type,” he murmured, his mind racing with the implications.

“Don’t worry!” she chirped, her tone lighthearted as she flashed a playful grin. “I only explode things by accident, meow.”

Every word was laced with a hint of danger, yet something endearing about her enthusiasm made it difficult for him to be entirely wary.

With a sudden urgency, he hastily gathered supplies, his hands moving deftly as he packed them into a worn satchel. “That’ll be five silver,” he said, counting the coins in his mind, but then paused, a calculating look crossing his face. “Or… how about this instead? Help me with a pressing problem. Bandits have been plaguing my caravans up north. If you can uncover who's behind it, all this gear is yours.”

The tension in the air felt electric, a mix of anticipation and danger that promised an adventure unlike any other.

“Bandits? Please, that’s a walk in the park, meow!” she declared with an air of confidence, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I doubt they’re dangerous at all.”

He regarded her with a look of such deep pity that it felt like it should come with its own tax.

Quest Accepted: “Merchants and Mayhem.”

The task ahead was clear: Investigate the mysterious disappearance of the merchant wagons in the shadowy woods just north of Greenbrook.

The Adventurer’s Guild

The guildhall stood as a striking landmark, its towering stone façade exuding an air of steadfast authority. Intricate carvings adorned its walls, showcasing a proud emblem of a sword and quill crossed over a sturdy mug, symbolizing the union of knowledge and strength. Above the grand entrance, a weathered sign hung gracefully, its ornate lettering boldly proclaiming the hall’s purpose to all who passed by.

GREENBROOK ADVENTURERS’ GUILD — NOW HIRING HEROES, HEALERS, AND FIRE EXTINGUISHERS.

The interior hummed with an infectious energy, filling every nook with vibrancy. Laughter erupted from clusters of adventurers nestled around sturdy wooden tables, their animated stories punctuated by the hearty clinking of ale mugs that gleamed in the warm, flickering candlelight. In a cozy corner, a lute player strummed with fervor, albeit in a rather eccentric fashion, thoroughly mangling what could have been a hauntingly beautiful melody.

Adorning one wall was a sprawling quest board, a colorful collage of parchment and ink that beckoned the bold and intrepid. Notices ranged from the whimsical cry of “Help! Missing Goat” to the grand challenge of “Slay the Cursed Tree That Won’t Stop Singing,” each beckoning with the promise of adventure and treasure.

Behind the polished counter stood a Sylvani clerk, exuding an air of efficiency in her crisp green vest. Her nameplate proclaimed: Lirian – Guild Receptionist, Not a Therapist, a humorous touch that invited both laughter and a sense of camaraderie among the guild members navigating their quests and misadventures.

“Welcome to the Adventurer’s Guild!” he exclaimed with a cheerful smile, his eyes twinkling with enthusiasm. “Are you here to register your skills, or perhaps to report some unfortunate property damage?”

Steph paused, her brow furrowing in thought as she considered his question. “Define property, meow,” she replied, a hint of intrigue in her voice.

The man leaned in slightly, his expression shifting to one of curiosity. “Did it explode?”

She hesitated for a moment, a sheepish grin spreading across her face. “...Possibly, meow,” she admitted, her tail twitching nervously.

“Registration it is, then!” he declared, his smile returning as he waved her further inside, where the air buzzed with the energy of countless adventurers sharing their tales.

She handed the letter from the Elvari Merchant.

Quest Complete: Cat Courier. Elvari Merchant's letter delivered.

The Paperwork Problem

He slid a weathered parchment across the polished wooden counter, its edges frayed from years of handling. “Please fill this out honestly,” he instructed, his voice steady but inviting.

Steph's eyes flickered to the quill resting beside it, its fine nib gleaming like a polished gem. “It doesn’t auto-write?” she asked, a hint of surprise breaking through her curiosity.

Lirian's expression remained unchanged, a serene smile dancing just at the corners of his lips. “No,” he replied simply, the weight of his gaze encouraging her to engage.

With a resigned sigh, Steph picked up the quill, feeling the cool, smooth surface in her fingers. She leaned over the parchment and began to scribble her answers, the ink flowing as her thoughts tumbled onto the page.

Name: Steph

Level: 1

Race: Felari

Class: Chaos Mage (Unstable, sparkly edition)

Notable Traits: Accident-Prone, Lucky, Frequently On Fire

Emergency Contact: “Working on it.”

Lirian scrutinized the parchment with a mixture of skepticism and curiosity, his brow arching elegantly. “You’ll need a sponsor before you can dive into any paid quests,” he said, his tone both matter-of-fact and slightly teasing.

Puzzlement danced in the young adventurer's eyes as she tilted her head, her ears twitching. “What’s a sponsor, meow?” she inquired, her voice laced with innocence.

With a knowing smirk, Lirian leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a more conspiratorial whisper. “A sponsor is someone seasoned—an experienced adventurer—who can vouch for you, assuring others that you probably won’t meet your end within the first day.”

Steph scanned the bustling environment around her, her brow furrowing in curiosity. “And where exactly would I stumble upon one of those?” she inquired, her voice laced with intrigue.

He smirked, the corners of his lips curling mischievously. “Oh, they rarely need to be sought after. Typically, they find you when you least expect it.”

"Before that we need to test your magic level," he said as he placed a glowing orb on the table.

Steph pressed her palm firmly against the smooth, cool surface of the orb, channeling her mana into it with an intense focus. As she did, the orb began a mesmerizing dance of colors, shifting and swirling in brilliant hues that pulsed like a heartbeat. With each surge of energy, it grew brighter, illuminating the dim surroundings. Suddenly, it began to vibrate, emitting a low hum that resonated in the air around them.

In an instant, the orb erupted in a dazzling explosion of light, blinding in its intensity. A cloud of soot enveloped both Steph and Lirian, shrouding them in darkness for a moment.

Amidst the chaos, Lirian hastily scribbled on a piece of parchment: “Supreme Chaos Mage.” He shot a frustrated glare at her, the remnants of the explosion still swirling in the air like a chaotic storm.

Enter Liora

The grand guild doors swung open with a powerful gust of wind, accompanied by a dramatic creak of ancient hinges that seemed to have rehearsed this very entrance over countless seasons. A tall Elvari ranger stepped into the dimly lit hall, her sleek leather armor glinting softly under the flickering torchlight. Her silver hair, intricately braided and cascading elegantly down her back, framed a face that was both fierce and hauntingly beautiful. A finely crafted bow, poised and ready, hung casually over one shoulder, suggesting both readiness and a casual confidence. Each stride she took echoed with purpose, her sharp, emerald eyes scanning the surroundings with an intensity that demanded attention. Everything about her exuded an unmistakable aura of "main character energy," making it clear that she was a force to be reckoned with in this world.

Every conversation within the guild came to an abrupt halt, a palpable tension hanging in the air for just a heartbeat longer than usual.

Lirian let out a quiet groan, the sound laden with resignation. “Oh no. She’s back,” he muttered, the weariness in his voice echoing his annoyance.

The ranger, a figure clad in rugged leathers adorned with the scars of countless battles, scanned the room with keen eyes that missed nothing. Her gaze landed squarely on Steph, who was perched casually on a high stool, her tail flicking with nonchalance. “You. Felari. You’re the one who turned half the forest into fireworks?” The accusation hung in the air, sharp and pointed.

Steph froze mid-tail-flick, her wide emerald eyes blinking innocently. “Define fireworks, meow,” she replied, the corners of her mouth curling into a bemused grin.

“Perfect,” the ranger responded with a dry sarcasm, a subtle smirk playing at the edge of her lips. “You’re hired.”

“Huh?” The young mage blinked, confusion etching her features as she tilted her head slightly.

“I’m looking for a skilled mage for a crucial scouting mission,” he explained, his voice steady and authoritative. “Ideally, one who can skillfully clear brush and navigate obstacles with ease.”

“Wait—what?” She furrowed her brow, trying to comprehend the unexpected request that had just fallen upon her like a sudden summer storm.

New Party Invitation: Elvari Ranger Liora of Silverwood requests to form a party with you.

Accept / Decline / Hide Under Nearest Table

Steph lingered, her finger hovering over the option "Hide Under Table" for a moment longer than necessary, a mix of uncertainty and resignation reflected in her eyes. With a resigned sigh, she finally declared, “Accept, meow,” her voice a soft blend of determination and apprehension.

Liora, standing tall with a glint of professional satisfaction shimmering in her gaze, gave a firm nod. “We leave at dawn,” she instructed, her tone authoritative yet encouraging. “Meet at the east gate. Remember to pack potions, not pastries. And for the sake of all that’s good—try to avoid leveling the town before we leave.” The weight of her words hung in the air, underscoring the seriousness of their quest ahead.

Lirian pressed the guild stamp firmly onto the parchment, the molten wax shimmering as she stamped it with a radiant seal that pulsed with an ethereal light. “Congratulations, Steph,” he said, a glimmer of pride dancing in his eyes. “You are now officially a registered adventurer of Greenbrook.” he leaned in slightly, his tone turning playful, “Just do your best to avoid becoming a crater out there.”

Achievement Unlocked:First Steps into Disaster! (+5 EXP)

Guild Rank: F (Freshly Flammable)

Tail End

Steph emerged from the guild, her satchel brimming with supplies, each item clinking softly as she walked. The golden rays of the evening sun bathed the rooftops in a warm, inviting glow, casting long shadows on the cobblestone streets below. In the distance, the lively chatter of townsfolk wafted through the air, filled with whispers about the “Felari with the boom” — a rumor that intrigued her.

She tilted her head back, observing the vast canvas of the sky, where wispy clouds glowed like cotton candy. Her tail curled playfully behind her, a reflection of her jittery excitement. “Okay, Steph. You’ve got clothes, food, and, most importantly, an actual job. Tomorrow, you’ll meet your first party member. What could possibly go wrong, meow?”

Her tail perked up as if it had accepted a challenge, brimming with a mix of anticipation and defiance. The world felt electric around her, an adventure waiting just beyond the horizon.