At the Tavern

Harsh morning light filtered through a rectangular gap in the hut's wall that served as a "window", as it always did, causing the NPC to snap his eyes open and suddenly pick himself up from the floor, where he'd presumably laid for the night.

Everything was different about him now, from the fact his clothes strained to fit him to the long white hair that fell in a curtain in front of his face and obstructed his vision. He tried to blow it out of the way with his breath - to no avail - and eventually swept it behind his ears in a perfunctory gesture.

An impending sense of déjà vu washed over him as he spotted his new skin was extremely pale and unblemished - the NPC specialised in healing concoctions and spent many a day under the scorching sun gathering ingredients whenever his designated path would allow him. The body was taller than his previous one and could be accused of being "too skinny" by a judgeful eye, but closer inspection revealed there was a healthy amount of muscle under that skin and bone.

Observing himself in a full-length mirror, he was greeted with familiar violet eyes and a thin nose, as well as a delicate mouth which was currently in an O of silent surprise...

It was the Demon Lord's face, only framed with white hair.

----

A broadsword with a silver ribbon wrapped around the hilt was resting against the wall which hadn't been there previously, so the NPC gingerly reached over and grabbed it from the top of the hilt. Memories of another life rushed through his head, rocketing him forward momentarily with their suddenness.

This form he now wore was that of the swordsman, Alabaster Alloyd...That being said, even though Alabaster knew his designation as "hero" was because he could draw upon positive emotions to make himself stronger (including his own happiness and confidence), he hadn't really left the Beginner's Village because he was well aware he looked like the Demon King and exploited that for all it was worth. Before the NPC had taken over the position of "hero", the former Al - who was more than content to stay a beginner, so he would be the uncontested strongest in the area - had created the currently-swirling rumours about the Demon King being in the area, as a way to run away from his own destiny!

"Oh boy, what have I got myself into now?" the man now known as Alabaster muttered to himself, shaking his head and noticing his voice was deeper than it was previously.

He set the sword back where he'd gotten it and set about fixing the immediate problem of his ill-fitting clothes by digging into a chest and pulling out some of the merchandise for new heroes - the same clothes he'd been wearing, but in a bigger size. He also stashed some healing potions and other equipment - plus what remained of his switch potion - into a hessian bag before sucking in an exhausted breath and spitting it back out with a complaint: "I dunno where I'll find him, but that Demon King guy better tell me why I look like him! Even if I have to fight him and drag him in front of the Main Guildmaster to do so!"

Al (the NPC had already taken to mentally calling himself "Al", instead of "Alabaster") then looked up at the now-closer-than-ever ceiling quizzically...Come to think of it, he didn't know what the Main Guildmaster - or any of the other Guildmasters, for that matter - was like either.

...oh well. He figured there was no use ruminating over things that didn't concern him (yet...?).

----

Now hiring: Serving person.

No experience required. Enquire within.

- Astarea South Guildmaster's Tavern

----

The birds were in full twitter as Al trekked across town and through the Beginner's Forest, finally able to enjoy the freedom not being restricted to a set path gave him. That said, the sword he had was cumbersome - he occasionally tossed it, only to knock out a low-level enemy and apologise to its corpse. However, he did gain materials for a vine whip this way and gratefully crafted his weapon as he continued to hack his way through.

Deciding to set up shop somewhere for the meantime, he stopped at a tavern at the edge of the forest owned by the South Office of the Astarean Guildmaster. As a wave of noxious chemicals hit him and he doubled over from the sheer strength of the smell, a brunette girl with a bandana tied around her hair was rushing about maniacally, pouring beer from barrels into tankards and serving plates of food as her plait streamed behind her. (This smell was from cigars - several of the patrons were openly smoking them and if there was a spare moment, the same girl could be seen clearing away rubbish and discarded cigar butts.)

Other guests in the tavern began to titter and draw away.

"He's hot, but doesn't he kinda look like the Demon King?"

"Someone said the Demon King was spotted around here recently, but I don't even know if the rumours are true..."

"This place is far too low-level for the Demon King, right? Besides, isn't the Demon King wearing armour?"

"With armour, you can just remove it, right?"

The girl straightened her mouth into a rictus as she slammed down the last plate of food in front of the gossiping guests and directly addressed them: "Excuse me, could you please quiet down? You're causing a fuss."

She strolled over to Al, who stood stock still, dumbfounded. His life as an NPC meant he always ate alone whenever he wasn't dealing with making or selling the merchandise.

"I-Is he crying?" A male warrior's comment snapped him out of his moment. Al touched his right cheek to find it damp with tears.

"What if he is?" the girl jumped in, saving Al from having to elaborate. "It's none of your business." With this, the guests reluctantly dug into their food and drink, eyeing Al all the while.

Al held his hands up in mock surrender as he saw the girl was still staring at him, hands on her hips. "Sorry," he mumbled at her.

"...what for?" Her face morphed into one of curiosity as she leant in, cupping her ear with a hand and pretending she didn't hear him well.

"Causing a fuss," Al continued to mumble, his face glowing red with embarrassment.

She clapped him on the back in response, causing him to yelp.

"You don't have to apologise for that! Anyone would do that for someone else," she grinned at him, sweeping into an impromptu curtsy with her long skirt. "I'm Elspeth Marinata - northern water mage." Then she seemingly remembered where she was and then did a little cough into a balled hand. "Or at least, I should be. Gotta get back to work, though."

"Did you need help? You look rather busy..." Al mused, glancing around at all the mess the customers had left behind.

"Actually yes, but since you're distracting the customers with your good looks, you should probably head into the back." She threw a thumb over her shoulder towards the door behind her. With this, Al only just noticed her standard mage's shirt was white, but covered in work stains, while her skirt, knee-length boots and bandana were a shade of royal blue. "You probably came here to find some lodgings or talk to the Office, right? Both are in there."

"Correct on both counts," he responded as he headed the way she had indicated, the tittering of the guests still ringing in his ears.

----

After organising some paperwork with the Office to officially register as a hero, Al carefully set his sword against the dressing table, then collapsed backwards on to a bed which would've fit his NPC form. In this room, he'd noticed a staff about as tall as he was and topped with a blue spherical gem and a beaten-up leather rucksack overflowing with papers...After a few days of sleeping rough, a bed felt like heaven though, so he ignored it.

As he was about to drift off to sleep, the girl from earlier appeared, undoing her bandana in the doorway.

"What are you doing here?!" they yelled at each other, Elspeth dropping her bandana.

....Turns out there was a mix-up and Al was meant to be in the room next door. They both turned bright red as she kicked him out.

----

An insistent knocking came on his door the next day as Al was about to dig into something he'd found in his bag - a lump of what was presumably stiff bread (even he wasn't totally sure what it was).

"Sorry to foist this on to you, but since you offered, could you please help me out? It's going to get very busy here today," Elspeth pleaded behind the door. 

The swordsman sighed and he tossed the rest of the bread(?) into his mouth. So much for offering...

----

True to what Elspeth had said, even peeping into the bar area - where he'd entered yesterday - this morning told him it was hectic. Even for an experienced server like Elspeth, it might have been too much.

"Here," Elspeth offered Al a bandana and apron, even popping behind him to tie up his waist-length hair as he tied the other items into place. (He wasn't facing her, so he didn't notice she was stealthily taking an extra moment to stroke his hair.) "Sorry about this and thank you," she finished, almost at a whisper, before they were both flung into the chaos of the day.

Elspeth quickly showed him the ropes, such as which dishes were which, how to do a multiple-plate carry and how to tilt the glasses to pour beers. For a while, Al forgot his predicament, losing himself in his work...

"Oi! Pretty boy!" a burly male patron called out to him. "I remember you!"

Before Al could react, the same patron slugged him hard in the face, causing a hollow ringing noise.

Al gingerly touched his face where he'd been hit, completely unfazed, and his fingers came away colder than they should have been - his skin felt like steel under the point of impact, but normal elsewhere, and the warmth of humanity was slowly rushing back to it.

"You're a freak, kid, on top of looking like the Demon King," the patron muttered, nursing his comically red and injured fist as he made a tactical retreat out the door while others in the area (even Elspeth, who had witnessed said retreat) laughed.

"Normally I would have to intervene, and I don't remember that guy being there before, but...yeah, that was pretty funny," she admitted that night after she finished work.

----

As the man left the tavern, his appearance seemed to disintegrate into motes of dirt and reform into a lanky armoured individual with blonde hair...

Indeed, the Demon King had noticed the rumours surrounding him had begun to change - as someone whose powers worked on negative emotions and who already knew his opponent was the opposite, he had to keep an ear towards his information networks most of all. As a result, he had come to investigate, but he hadn't expected Al to develop a resistance to physical attacks like that. After all, that was the realm of NPCs, to give them some way of maintaining the status quo while other player characters ran amok in Astarea...

Oh well, the man thought as he smirked to himself and clapped at the sky to summon his ride back to the Demon King's realm. That makes my creation stronger, but it doesn't make him unbeatable.

----

A few days later, Elspeth approached him again, this time as he was observing his handiwork - a jacket he'd finished dyeing so it matched the shade of his eyes. "I've put in my resignation with the tavern."

Violet eyes regarded her coolly. "So why'd you tell me this? 'It's none of my business' and you're here to rub it into my face, is it?"

"Thing is, after what happened on the first day, you seem like you need a friend, plus some direction to go in." She slapped down a quest flyer on to the tavern table for him to read.

Truth be told, she'd observed since he arrived and after the initial stint in the bar, Al had just been hacking away at enemies in the local area while pretty much everyone else had moved on (the materials of which eventually resulted in the jacket). For one thing, he'd set off in this direction simply because he knew everyone else took this path, not necessarily because it would help with his quest. For another thing, everything that had happened had slowly chipped away at guilt for leaving his own position as NPC - someone had to sell the stuff, right?

However, he'd trekked back the short distance one of these days and discovered an individual who looked like him in his place, travelling the paths he used to. This NPC even had the same bob of brown hair and distinctive mannerism of scratching his head.

If he'd been replaced, then all Al could do was continue in his current role - playing at being a hero.