So, you've survived the initial 'get eaten by slimes or shanked in an alley' phase. Commendable. However, existing is not thriving. Currently, your social standing likely hovers somewhere between 'Walking Petri Dish' and 'Potential Suspect For Anything Bad That Happens'. Improving this, even marginally, is crucial for long-term survival and accessing better opportunities (like jobs that don't involve rat entrails).
Phase 1: Achieving Neutrality (AKA 'Not Actively Despised')
- Consistency is Key: Show up regularly. Whether it's for your menial job, purchasing cheap rations from the same vendor, or just occupying the same relatively clean gutter. Familiarity breeds tolerance, if not affection. People are less likely to suspect the devil they know.
- Basic Grooming (Attempted): Try to wash occasionally. Use water, preferably non-putrid. If possible, acquire clothing that isn't actively disintegrating. It signals you're not completely feral. (See Appendix K: Basic Hygiene Spells & Mundane Alternatives).
- Minimal Politeness: Learn basic greetings and courtesies in the local tongue. 'Please', 'Thank you', 'Excuse me, didn't mean to step on your tentacle'. Goes a surprisingly long way. Avoid excessive small talk; you probably have nothing interesting or non-suspicious to say yet.
- Mind Your Business: Don't stare. Don't eavesdrop too obviously (See Section 119: Covert Information Gathering Techniques - The Art of Looking Bored). Don't interfere in local disputes unless you have a death wish or a Plot Mandate?.
- Reliability (in Small Doses): If you have a job, do it competently and without excessive complaining. If you agree to meet someone, be there. Building a reputation for not being a complete flake is a significant step up.
Pitfalls to Avoid:
- Sudden Wealth/Power: Flashing unexplained riches or newly acquired godlike abilities attracts unwanted attention (bandits, cults, tax collectors – often indistinguishable). Gradual improvement is less alarming.
- Asking Dumb Questions: While information is vital, repeatedly asking things any local child would know marks you as an outsider (or an idiot). Observe first, ask specific, targeted questions later. (Refer back to Module 3: Know Your Locale).
- Association with Known Troublemakers: Unless you're actively joining the Thieves' Guild (See Appendix F: Common Guild Structures), avoid being seen regularly with notorious criminals or lunatics. Guilt by association is a popular local pastime.
Your goal isn't to become beloved overnight. It's to become ignorable background noise, a tolerated part of the scenery. From there, you can slowly build towards 'Vaguely Useful Odd Jobber' or 'That Quiet Person Who Sometimes Buys Things'. Baby steps.
(Inkstained Prophet's Reminder: Slimes are never background noise. They are foreground threats. Annihilate on sight. Responsibly.)
[Kevin's Story: Part 11 - The Grind Begins (Properly This Time)]
Sunrise filtering through the dusty cracks of the storeroom wall served as Kevin's alarm clock. He woke up stiff, sore, but blessedly un-mugged and relatively warm. The feeling of the bolt securely fastened on his side of the door was a luxury he hadn't known he craved.
He quickly used a corner of the room as a makeshift latrine (hoping Martha wouldn't notice or care) and splashed some water on his face from the waterskin the Veteran had left (he really needed to find a refill source). Then, remembering Martha's offer, he unbolted the door and headed into the still-quiet tavern kitchen.
Martha was already there, kneading a large lump of dough with practiced ease. She grunted a greeting. "Right on time. Good. Grab that broom. Floor needs seein' to."
Kevin swept, fetched water, helped haul sacks of vegetables, and generally made himself useful under Martha's watchful eye. It was hard work, especially after the rat hunt, but his slightly increased STR (now 7 thanks to the quest reward) made a small, noticeable difference. He felt less like he was about to collapse after lifting a sack of potatoes.
The cook arrived later, a taciturn man named Bors who communicated mostly in grunts and pointed gestures. Kevin stayed out of his way, focusing on keeping the pot wash area clear – a task he was now grimly familiar with.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
By the time the tavern opened for the morning rush (mostly dockworkers grabbing cheap ale and bread), Kevin had earned his keep for the storeroom. Martha even gave him a chunk of leftover bread and a smear of questionable dripping, which he devoured gratefully. It wasn't stew, but it beat nothing.
"Right," Martha said, wiping down the counter. "Kitchen's sorted for now. Don't need you underfoot till the lunch rush cleanup. Find somethin' else to do, but don't get into trouble."
Freedom. And ten coppers in his pouch. He decided against immediate rat hunting; the thought still made him queasy, and doing it in daylight felt somehow more dangerous. Instead, he decided to put his Stat Points and Skill Point to use, and maybe explore the market with a purpose.
He found a quiet alley (old habits die hard) and pulled up his Status screen. Five Stat Points. One Skill Point. LUK was tempting... so tempting. But practicality won out. He needed to be stronger and faster for manual labor and potential fights.
"System, assign 2 points to STR, 2 points to DEX, and 1 point to INT." He hesitated on the INT, but the Guide mentioned needing it for appraisal or understanding complex things later. Might as well start small. He ignored LUK for now, hoping the universe would eventually cut him some slack (unlikely).
Ding!
[Stat Points Allocated!]
[STR: 7 -> 9 (Average Citizen - No longer completely feeble!)]
[DEX: 8 -> 10 (Nimble - Occasional flashes of competence!)]
[INT: 9 -> 10 (Average Citizen - Basic deduction possible!)]
[LUK: 3 (Still Statistically Unfortunate)]
He felt a subtle shift, a sense of increased potential in his limbs, a slight sharpening of his thoughts. It wasn't dramatic, but it was there.
Now the Skill Point. [Petty Theft] was useful but risky. [Urban Navigation] was handy but passive. [Basic Street Brawling]... leveling that up had helped with the rats.
"System, assign 1 Skill Point to [Basic Street Brawling]."
Ding!
[Skill Point Allocated!]
[Skill Increased: [Basic Street Brawling] Lv. 2 -> Lv. 3 (Can now sometimes block intentionally! Reduced chance of hitting self.)]
Armed with slightly better stats and marginally less clumsy brawling skills, Kevin felt a bit more confident. He also had the [Basic Toolkit]. Maybe he could find work using that?
He headed towards the main market square, trying to implement the Guide's advice from Section 74. He kept his head down but walked with purpose, avoided staring, offered a brief nod to Martha as he left. He needed to transition from 'Suspicious Vagrant' to at least 'Harmlessly Drab'.
The market was bustling. He ignored the food stalls (mostly) and focused on the artisans and traders. Blacksmiths, carpenters, leatherworkers... He spotted a stall selling various tools and hardware, run by a stout, balding man. Kevin browsed, looking at hammers, nails, hinges.
He noticed a loose hinge on one of the display boxes. An idea sparked. He approached the vendor.
"Excuse me," Kevin began, holding up his own [Basic Toolkit]. "I'm new in town, looking for odd jobs. Got my own tools," (he conveniently didn't mention their 'Poor Quality' rating), "pretty handy. Noticed that hinge is loose. Happy to fix it for you? Quick job. Say... one copper?"
The vendor looked surprised, then peered at the hinge, then back at Kevin. He seemed less suspicious than the foreman or the Gnawed Barrel barkeep. Maybe appearing with tools made a difference?
"A copper to tighten a hinge?" the vendor grumbled, but without real heat. "Bit steep. But it is annoyin'." He sighed. "Alright, fine. One copper. But if you mess it up, you're buyin' me a new box."
Kevin grinned. His first self-initiated job! He knelt down, using the screwdriver analogue from his kit. His improved DEX 10 made the fiddly work easier than he expected. Within a minute, the hinge was secure.
The vendor inspected it, grunted in approval, and handed over a single copper coin.
Ding!
[Odd Job Completed: Minor Repair!]
[Reward: 1 Copper Piece!]
[Reputation Increased slightly with 'Boltar's Hardware'.]
[+5 EXP!] (128/200 EXP)
It wasn't much, but it was progress. Eleven coppers in his pouch now. He'd earned it not through rat guts or scrubbing grease, but through a simple task using his own (crappy) tools and initiative. Maybe this 'Odd Jobber' path had potential after all.
He spent the next hour wandering, offering his services for similar minor repairs – fixing a wobbly stall leg (another copper!), securing a loose crate lid (free, but earned a nod from a merchant). He was learning which vendors were approachable and which radiated 'go away, peasant'. He was becoming, slowly, painstakingly, part of the market's background hum. Not liked, not trusted, but maybe... tolerated.