You step past the gate, and a blue screen appears in front of you, reading:

"Warning! You have left the protection force field."

So, the otherworld mansion is protected by some kind of magical barrier. That’s useful to know. You walk down the street, but you don’t plan to go far. With your weight, even a short stroll leaves you winded.

A few locals pass by, dressed in rough cloaks and tunics. But the most surprising part is that some of them aren’t fully human. Beastfolk, half-animal, half-human, walk the streets like it’s normal. They look like costumes at first, but their movements are too natural. Even their tails sway naturally. Also, everyone around you is speaking English. You would’ve preferred your native language, but at least it’s not something completely alien.

As you turn a corner, a small human boy bumps into you and falls to the ground. He’s wearing an old, torn cloak, and looks like a beggar. His face is dirty, and he starts crying.

You tense up, afraid of drawing attention. "Calm down," you say.

"Please, mister, I’m hungry. Do you have food?"

"No, I don’t. You should go."

Your English isn’t perfect, but it’s enough to hold the conversation. You keep walking, hoping he’ll leave. But he follows close behind.

"Mister, I know you have food. Please, just a little."

You pick up the pace. You don’t have food. You don’t have gold. You’re only out here to get a feel for this place. You didn’t come to babysit and this is starting to get annoying.

Suddenly, a voice cuts through the air. "There he is! Capture him!"

You turn and see a man in leather armor running toward the boy. The child kicks and pulls, but he’s not strong enough to break free. Behind the soldier, a fat man in silk robes barks more orders.

"Mister!" the boy cries. "Please help me!"

>Ignore the child and return home for dinner.
>Hit the armored man using your superior weight, like you did back at school. [Roll 1d100, DC 15]
>Write in