One would expect a lot of anger from the crowds surrounding the imp, but surprisingly, Zhit heard none. This was probably as a result of his small body structure surrounded by the warriors and magi from all 7 corners of the world.

This was a new experience for Zhit, receiving a heroes welcome into a kingdom such as this. His entire life he spent as an outcast, not as some kind of a potential savior.

The further the procession moved, the more outcast Zhit felt. He was no warrior, no holy man, no paladin or mage who followed the "beliefs" of some celestial object.

Zhit was a tinkerer. A junkyard thief. He was the lowest of the low. But that was no reason to quit. He was about to enter the Queen's palace!

As he stepped through the door, a prompt "are you f***ing kidding me?!" escaped Zhit's lips as he glanced at the riches around him.

Thoughts of what the materials could be used for encircled his brain and all other thoughts stopped. "The supplies in this castle alone could create so many improvements on the huts around" he thought.

As they sat at the table the silver dining ware gleamed the light of the golden chandelier above. This palace, this mound of riches, would never cease to amaze him.

After the Queen's brief speech, Zhit could not bring himself to eat. His mind was to busy processing and creating new gizmos.

Post formalities, Zhit proceeded to his room. This place was beautiful, but it took every ounce of Zhit's will not to disassemble it and build all kinds of tools and things. The only real option now was to sleep and control himself long enough to reach the adventure of tomorrow.