Have you ever been so hungry you felt like you could eat a whole horse? Now imagine that feeling multiplied by ten, after escaping a dungeon full of monsters, with your last meal being a piece of jerky that tasted like old shoe leather. What would it feel like to return to civilization? A hero's welcome with roasted meat and cheering crowds? Well, my arrival at Market Square was… less exciting.
Market Square was pure chaos, like a mash-up of the crowded streets from Attack on Titan and the dingy taverns in Skyrim. The stalls were crammed together, made from rough wood and old fabric, and sold all kinds of weird stuff: rusty swords, bubbling potions in random bottles, and strange bundles wrapped in coarse cloth.
The air? Let's just say it wasn't great. You had the delicious smell of roasting meat mixed with the stink of sweaty people, the sharp, metallic scent of the blacksmith's forge, and a faint whiff of old lavender. This wasn't the clean, charming medieval fair you see in stories. It was dirty, raw, and very real.
All I wanted was food, but my stomach had other plans. It let out a massive growl, the kind that sounded like a wild animal breaking free. People stopped and stared, and even pigeons flew away in panic.
"Seriously, stomach? Now?" I thought, my face turning red. Here, hunger wasn't just uncomfortable—it made you look weak, which could get you into trouble.
As a smart adventurer, I tried to use my trusty User Interface (UI)—basically a digital menu to help navigate this world. But when I pulled it up, a message flashed: "MAINTENANCE MODE." Great, it was like finding out your favorite restaurant was closed when you're starving.
"Thanks a lot, UI," I grumbled. The locals, already suspicious of me because of my weird clothes, started whispering about me being "possessed" or cursed.
To distract myself (and the crowd), I tried turning my hunger into a comedy act. I struck silly poses, pretended to pull rabbits out of thin air, and even attempted a clumsy cartwheel. A few kids laughed, and a bard nearby started scribbling notes, probably turning my disaster into a song.
But just as I was about to try a handstand (bad idea), my stomach growled again—louder and angrier. It sounded like a monster roaring.
And then, gravity betrayed me. My cartwheel turned into a sloppy tumble, ending with my face in the dirt. The crowd, who had been laughing, quickly turned awkward. They avoided eye contact and drifted away, even the bard lost interest.
Spitting out dust, I realized something important: hunger makes you weak. And in this world, being weak could be dangerous.
Here's what I learned from my embarrassing adventure:
Always pack snacks. A full pouch of food can save you from humiliation and hunger.
Laugh it off. When life throws you into the dirt, sometimes it's best to roll with it and move on.
Respect your stomach. Hunger can humble even the toughest adventurer.
Market Square taught me that surviving in a fantasy world isn't just about fighting monsters and casting spells. It's also about handling the little things, like not starving or face-planting in public. So, pack some food, stay flexible, and if all else fails, laugh it off. At least you'll have a funny story to tell later.