The deer at least gave Archer venison when he looted it—thick cuts of meat packed with clean, gamey strength—and several broad leather hides that would be useful later. Even though items stacked neatly in his inventory, the growing list of spoils was becoming a quiet burden on his mind. Every creature he felled added one more decision he'd eventually have to face. Before long, looting everything would be impossible. He'd have to choose what mattered, what didn't, and what he was willing to leave behind on the forest floor. Maybe he'd even reach the point of discarding items he once considered valuable.
*That's a future Archer problem,* he decided, brushing his hands together and straightening. *Right now, I've got a new skill to test.*
**Flora Identify.**
He felt a pulse of anticipation, small but sharp, like drawing a bowstring. He had high hopes for this one. His passive skills so far were helpful but underwhelming—*Reading the Terrain* and *Distance Gauge* were essentially outdoorsman instincts polished to a shine. Useful, yes. Impressive? Not really. Not yet.
But being able to identify plants without slowing his pace? That had potential. Real utility. They could keep marching west while he gathered knowledge, maybe even spot rare herbs or ingredients without breaking stride. If the skill worked the way he hoped, it would turn every forest edge and overgrown ditch into a resource.
He scanned the treeline as they walked, sunlight filtering through the canopy in shifting golden bars. The underbrush was thick with greenery—ferns, shrubs, creeping vines, and the occasional bright splash of flowers fighting for light beneath the towering pines. The air carried a cool, resinous scent, cut now and then by the freshness of crushed leaves underfoot.
*Alright,* Archer thought, focusing on a unfamiliar plant with broad, jagged leaves. *Show me what you've got.*
He didn't stop walking. That was the point—this skill needed to work on the move. He let his attention flick over the plant, triggering the ability.
And waited to see what the world revealed.
Oak Tree
Primary Uses:
— Timber
It was a simple enough explanation, he supposed. Hard to expect much from a tree anyway. Still, seeing Oak Tree pop up with all the enthusiasm of a bored librarian made Archer snort. The trees, at least, seemed to be the same in both worlds—oak was oak, pine was pine, and so far none of them had tried to eat him.
Common Yarrow
Primary Uses:
— Wound Healing
— Disease Suppression
— Pain Relief
"Ooh, wound healing and disease suppression, eh? That'll be a winner in potion crafting, I bet." He crouched beside the patch of yarrow, its small white flower bundles nodding like they agreed with him. The scent was sharp and green, with a faint medicinal edge that made him think of a forest pretending to be a pharmacy.
He picked as much as he could with both hands, though he had absolutely no idea which parts were actually useful. Leaves? Flowers? Stems? Roots? All of the above? None? For all he knew, the active ingredient could be the smug satisfaction of having identified it.
He stuffed the collection into his inventory anyway.
"I'll figure out which bits do what later," he muttered. "Worst case, I accidentally poison someone. Best case, I reinvent medieval Panadol."
He stood, brushing dirt from his knees and glancing around for the next unsuspecting plant. With a skill like this, he had a feeling he'd be foraging a lot more—and quite possibly annoying his future self with an overflowing inventory of questionable greenery.
"Elenor, are you familiar with any plants that have healing properties. Plants that may be around here, that is."
"Chamomile flowers. Found in meadows." She neither looked at him or broke stride. Her gaze kept on sweeping the landscape.
"And Black Elderberry, of course. There may be some in the area. I, for one, am tiring of meat."
Archer laughed at hearing her say that, mirroring his own thoughts.
They were setting themselves a reasonable fast pace, both wanting to reach the town Elenor remembered. The identifying plants' skills barely slowed the pace, with Archer only halting to gather a patch of Yarrow. The day passed in this fashion, occasionally interrupted by an angry forest animal. Late in the afternoon was when they found the abandoned homestead.
There was no doubt that it truly was abandoned. A door lay on the ground where time had caused its fall—either time or the portion of the roof that had collapsed in. Archer's guess was time was the cause either way.
The door itself was half-buried in windblown debris, its wood swollen and greyed to the colour of driftwood. Rusted hinges clung to one edge like stubborn barnacles, protesting the idea that they had ever held anything upright. Moss had claimed a corner, spreading soft green tendrils across the splintered boards as if trying to ease the old structure's suffering.
The sagging roof timbers above creaked with each breath of wind, shifting just enough to whisper their age. A few shards of slate lay scattered around the entrance, suggesting the collapse had been gradual—less a violent fall and more a long, tired surrender to the years.
Weeds sprouted through every crack in the foundation, thriving in the places civilisation had once pressed flat. Nature had taken back the space with a quiet patience, as if it had been waiting for the house to blink first.
Archer stood at the threshold, studying the wreck with a grim sort of curiosity. Even without a system prompt telling him so, the building radiated that hollow stillness of a place no longer meant for the living. Even the birds gave it a respectful distance.
"Yep," he murmured. "Definitely abandoned."
"Feel like a luxurious night indoors Elenor?" He couldn't be paid enough to stay in there himself.
"In there? No, thank you. The rats and spiders are welcome to the place." That said, she proceeded digging their nightly firepit. Archer was happy enough to explore ruins, considering it worthwhile if he found something of use. The interior spoke of very basic living conditions. A fireplace without a proper chimney, a bed little more than a box, rotten straw filling the rotten box.
Nothing of value had been left behind when the owners left. He hoped they had moved on to somewhere better.
Just as he walked out, Elenor's head snapped up, her ears angling sharply toward the treeline as if hooked by an invisible thread. Her posture shifted—light, alert, the way a predator reacts to something only it can sense. Archer froze mid-step. He didn't hear anything at all. No clash of metal. No shouts. Not even rustling beyond the wind.
But Elenor's gaze fixed on a distant point none of his senses could reach.
"There is a battle ongoing between a human and goblins," she said, voice low and tight.
The words landed like a dropped stone.
Archer's mind raced, piecing the situation together with the speed of sudden adrenaline. If *she* was reacting, it meant whatever was happening wasn't close—not within normal hearing range, at least. Her senses were sharper, broader, tuned to things he still didn't fully understand. It also meant the fight wasn't small. Not a quick scuffle or a lone scream. Something sustained. Something desperate.
A prickle crept up his spine, the kind that urged action even before thought caught up. His hand drifted instinctively toward his bow.
"How many?" he asked, though he already suspected the answer wouldn't be comforting.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, focus sharpening like a blade being honed.
"Enough that the human is losing."
The breeze carried on as if nothing were wrong—soft, cool, utterly indifferent. But the world suddenly felt far less quiet.
"Lead the way." He followed the Fae at a sprint, surprised at her speed, and more so his own capacity to easily keep up. Archer could match Elenors grace over the broken ground of the forest. She glided, where he crashed.
The sounds of the fight reached him after a few hundred metres, the typical screeches from Goblins mixed with the guttural roar of a man, his defiance clear even at this distance. 800 metres from the homestead, the pair leaping over brush to enter the meadow of the ongoing fight.
Archer was greeted with a scene of carnage. Pieces of half a dozen Goblins were scattered around a giant of a man. A dozen more Goblins and a big Hobgoblin were trying to get close enough to strike the man, his greatsword whirling like a cold steel fan. The goblin bodies were the proof of their failure so far.
Arrows from the Ranger started flying at the green creatures seconds after entering the meadow, each enhanced by Archers Sureshot skill. The target-rich environment was a treasure trove of skill points he didn't want to miss.
Elenor, quite reluctantly, held back from attacking her most hated enemies. Once the Ranger joined the fight, there was only one outcome. Arrows punched through the backs of heads, pierced throats adding blood to the already soaked ground. The Warrior roared with laughter, his actions shifting to offensive even as the first goblin dropped from the Rangers' unexpected arrival.
Green heads, arms and legs separated from their owns in screeching anguished crys. The Warrior downed 5 Goblins to the Rangers 7.
"Well met Ranger! Well met Fae! I will forgive you for taking some of my kills, I would not have been able to resist if our roles had been reversed. Perhaps you have something to drink?"
The great man had an infectiously happy personality. With time now to study the man, Archer could see he was a lot older than his skill in a fight had shown. The Warrior looked to be 60 years old, if he was a day. He had the bulk and muscle of a man who had spent his life working and fighting. He had a Scandinavian look to him, with his blonde hair and beard. Both were running more towards grey than blonde though.
The Fae stepped away into the woods briefly to collect wood for a campfire. "Sadly, we do not Warrior. We have plenty of meat to share though. A second-best choice for you is better than none, I'm sure." She chose to forgo the firepit, judging the strength of arms present would take care of any problem that foolishly showed itself.
Truth Fae. But I will accept your offer. Let us step away from the stink of these beast."
They walked a few dozen metres away and set their campfire. Minutes later, they were grilling venison skewed on sticks.
"So what brings you to these parts Warrior?" Archer spoke for the first time to the man.
"Glorious battle of course. There is a Dungeon in this area I wish to raid. You are welcome to join me if you share my purpose. I am Volkan. I would have your names, if I may?"
"Steven Archer. My Fae companion is Elenor. We are traveling to the nearest town with the hope of finding the location of Dungeons in the area. We are in luck meeting you, if you are already heading to one."
Volkan laughed "An Archer named Archer, very amusing. You must have traveled from far away, if you are seeking a town. There are none nearer than 4 days from here. From where do you hail?"
Elenor spoke up to answer him, she had bern silently studying the man while he and Archer talked.
"Do you wish for great adventure Volkan? Great battles, treasure beyond imagine, fearless companions and glorious tales where you are the hero?"
"I have wished that my entire life Fae. And had it often enough. Why would you ask me this?"
"I ask you this, Warrior, because this Ranger before you can give you all those things. For as long as you may want them. This Ranger, is the first Contender to our world. A Contender who has appeared 6 months or more before any other"
The look of surprise and excitement on the Warriors face was almost comical. "This is true what she says Steven Archer? You are a Contender of legend?"
"A Contender yes. Of legend? I'm not so sure. Perhaps we can become Legends together, if you have nothing better to do?"
"I like the way you think Archer." Laughing loud, Volkan seemed a very likeable man. He had no reason to be false in the way he acted.
"The Ranger will invite you to our group then. You must use your mind to accept the invitation. These are normal things for a Contender that normal people of this world never experience."
Archer sent the part invite, then watched the big mans surprise as the minimap and notification bar appeared to him. Archer was mildly interested to learn that the System was adapting to their preferences with the notification bar no longer blocking a person's vision.
"Volkan, if you wish, you can loot the goblin bodies. It isn't the same when you're part of my group. Go see for yourself"
The Warrior went about looting the green creatures, returning with weapons, leather armour, coins and Healing Gel. He was happy enough to let Archer carry the goods, after the Ranger promised him a share of the coin when he sold the items.
They settled in for the night listening to Volkans' stories of his adventures.