Luck of the Dice (A Former Dungeon-Master's LITRPG)

"Alright," Miles said, standing up and dusting himself off. "I'll head for the settlement and see what I can find."

The boy's eyes widened. "You're leaving?"

"For now," Miles admitted. "If I don't, your chieftain's probably going to figure out I'm still here, and I doubt he's in a forgiving mood."

The boy looked down, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "But you'll come back, right? To help us?"

Miles hesitated. He hated making promises he couldn't keep, but the kid's desperate expression softened him. "Yeah," he said finally. "I'll come back. I can't promise when, but I will."

The boy's face brightened, and he nodded firmly. "Then I'll help you sneak out."

The two of them huddled by the window, peeking out at the village. Vadamir was stalking through the streets, speaking to the villagers and pointing at houses.

"We don't have much time," Miles whispered. "He's going to figure out where I am eventually."

The boy nodded. "There's a gap in the barrier on the north side. It's small, but you should be able to squeeze through. I'll distract him."

Miles frowned. "That's risky. What if he catches you?"

The boy smiled faintly. "I'll be fine. He doesn't pay much attention to me."

Miles didn't like it, but there wasn't a better option. He crouched by the door, ready to move. "Alright. Just be careful."

The boy nodded and slipped out the door. Miles watched as he approached Vadamir, tugging on the chieftain's sleeve to get his attention. The boy's voice carried faintly on the wind.

"Chief Vadamir! I thought I saw the outsider near the well!"

Vadamir turned sharply, his eyes narrowing. "The well, you say?"

The boy nodded earnestly, pointing in the opposite direction of the gap in the barrier. Vadamir muttered something under his breath and stormed off, barking orders at a couple of villagers to follow him.

Miles wasted no time. He darted out of the house, sticking to the shadows as he made his way north. The village was eerily quiet, the only sounds the faint creak of collapsing buildings and the distant shuffle of malnourished villagers.

Finally, he reached the edge of the barrier. Just as the boy had said, there was a small gap near the ground, barely wide enough for him to crawl through.

Miles dropped to his hands and knees, squeezing through the opening. The barrier hummed faintly as he passed, sending a tingling sensation through his skin, but he made it out unscathed.

He turned back to look at the village one last time. The boy stood by the well, waving at him discreetly. Miles raised a hand in return before slipping into the forest.

As he walked through the dense woods, the system chimed:

Objective Updated: Form a Party of 4 and Challenge the Dungeon Known as "The Curse of the God." Current Party Members: 0. Recommended Level: 5.

Miles sighed. "No pressure, huh?"

He adjusted the straps on his pack and set his sights on the horizon. Somewhere out there was a settlement where he could find allies, answers, and maybe even a way to save Faelwen.

But for now, survival was his top priority.

______

After hours of trudging through dense woods and uneven terrain, Miles found himself at the edge of a bustling settlement. Rolling hills gave way to a sprawling village surrounded by wooden palisades, its towering gate flanked by guards wearing mismatched armor.

He paused to catch his breath, leaning against a tree.

Roll for Navigation: Locate the Village.

The dice had been generous, granting him a high roll earlier that pointed him directly to this settlement.

As he approached the gate, Miles couldn't help but marvel at how much the village resembled the fantasy RPG games he used to play. Cobbled streets twisted between quaint, half-timbered houses. Market stalls lined the central square, their owners shouting to hawk wares ranging from fresh produce to weapons and enchanted trinkets.

"Feels like I walked into a video game," Miles muttered, his stomach growling loudly enough to turn a few heads.

The scent of roasted meat and freshly baked bread wafted through the air, and Miles followed it like a moth to a flame. He stopped at a food stall manned by a burly man with a crooked grin. The vendor's display featured skewers of steaming meat and a bubbling cauldron of stew.

"What'll it be, traveler?" the vendor asked, his grin widening as he eyed Miles's dusty clothes and slightly bulging coin pouch.

"I'll take a skewer," Miles said, trying to sound casual.

"That'll be three gold coins," the vendor said smoothly.

Miles froze. Three gold coins? That seemed absurd for something as simple as a snack.

He narrowed his eyes. Roll to Determine if You're Being Ripped Off.

The dice rolled in his mind, landing on a high result.

Result: You are being scammed. The average price for a skewer is 2 silver coins.

"Three gold coins?" Miles repeated, his voice rising in disbelief. "You think I'm made of money? That's at least ten times what this should cost!"

The vendor's grin faltered, but he quickly recovered. "Well, it's premium meat, seasoned with rare spices—"

"Cut the nonsense!" Miles snapped. "I'll pay you two silver coins and not a copper more."

The vendor opened his mouth to argue, but a commotion behind Miles caught his attention.

While Miles was busy berating the vendor, a scruffy-looking kid darted through the crowd, bumping into him hard enough to make him stagger.

"Watch it!" Miles barked, instinctively clutching his coin pouch.

The boy muttered an apology, his hands moving quickly to swipe the pouch from Miles's belt. But instead of finding it hanging loosely, he encountered only empty air—Miles still had it firmly in his grip, having never let go.

The boy's eyes widened in surprise, and he scurried off, disappearing into the crowd.

Miles blinked, realizing what had just happened. "Oh. That little punk tried to rob me!"

The vendor sighed, dropping the act entirely. "Fine. Two silvers. You drive a hard bargain."

Miles paid and snatched his skewer, glaring at the vendor as he walked away. He still felt a little rattled, but at least his money was safe.