It first occurred to him that something odd was going on when he felt something wet and slimy jump onto and sit on his face, making him wonder if it intended to melt the entire thing off. His partially opened mouth was rubbing against something gooey, and it felt like kissing a jellyfish that was right in the middle of sending electricity throughout its entire body. Yes, there was something odd going on here, and he was pretty sure he didn't like it.

The slimy thing in question promptly detached itself from Phillip's face, jumping over the young man's head with a loud squelch and continuing on its way. If only it knew that it may just have scarred a poor human being for life. Or perhaps simply the next decade or so; he wasn't sure which.

Phillip plucked some sticky, slimy stuff from his eyelashes until he could manage to open his eyes without too much difficulty. There was a chill in the air, and snowflakes fell around him. He looked left, right, and hurriedly attempted to sit up as a familiar "squelch" entered his hearing.

He got to his feet and whirled around, peering through the white snow and the trees. There was a slope to his left, and over the top there came, jumping slowly but surely, a round ball of goo, ice blue in colour and speckled with snow. To his right, moving away at a very slow pace, was an identical creature, which, Phillip suspected, was probably the thing that had thirty seconds ago been hanging out on his face.

He looked behind him and jumped at the sight of a very familiar figure lying on the ground nearby. He shook his sister's shoulder, but she didn't move. He reached out and touched her hand. Ice cold. He could hear her slow, steady breathing. A cold mist came from her slightly open mouth. She might not wake any time soon.

His head was hazy, but he searched it for some recollection of what they were doing here - and where here happened to be. The face of an old man, wrinkled and shaking with a mocking glee, danced before him like some sort of ghostly apparition. It was a face he'd never see again except in his dreams, and he knew he would not soon regret the lack. The old man certainly wouldn't regret Phillip's.

Phillip waved his hand as if to wipe away the apparition, and it seemed to sink into the snow. His legs felt weak. He sat back down next to his unconscious sister.

A week ago, his life had been as perfect as it had ever been - which wasn't terrific, but not terrible either. The old man had been the guardian of him and his sister for the past decade, since the day their parents died, and he'd been wishing to get rid of them for almost as long. One night he went to the king, and volunteered his adopted children as Terrarian adventurers. The king had over his lifetime sent dozens of people to Terraria - an island plagued with a corruption that nobody could explain. "Cleanse the corruption," he would say to each, "And you will be richly rewarded." Nobody knew why the king wanted this done, or why he cared about Terraria. What they did know was that not one of the adventurers had succeeded. Not one had ever come back. Some of the people who were sent on this quest were not even to be adventurers, but they were to aid the adventurer in different roles. Even they had never returned.

Phillip moved to the side as another slimy thing squelched its way towards him, and considered his situation. He'd been told to wait for someone to meet them, but not a soul was in sight that wasn't a stingy slimy thing. He reached over and tried again to wake his sister up to discuss the matter with her.

A high but quiet whistle echoed suddenly through the treetops. Phillip looked up. On a branch of a tree nearby, there sat a soul who was not a stingy slimy thing - a good sign. His hair was a vivid dark red, which should have stood out immediately to Phillip against the pure white background of snow, though he only now noticed he wasn't alone. The man was young, maybe his age, and dressed simply. Too simply for the winter cold. As their eyes met, he gave a slight nod, like the nods the courtiers at home used to salute each other when they were too busy to say hello.

He dropped from his branch immediately, landing perilously close to Phillip's sister's hand. The drop, though long, didn't seem to faze him. "Are you the adventurer?" he inquired in a rather neutral tone, his eyes fixed steadily on Phillip's.

Phillip nodded, but said nothing, folding his arms and keeping his distance.

The young man nodded again and gave a very slight - but seemingly genuine - smile. "I've been waiting for you. Welcome to Terraria."

"You are the person we were told to meet?" Phillip gave the man a sideways glance. He was staring at his sister.

"I am the Guide," the young man said, tone never wavering, eyes flicking from Eleanor back to Phillip. "My role is to aid you in your quest to cleanse this land, assuming, of course, that you will allow me to do so."

"You know about Terraria? Have you been here for long?" Phillip's mood seemed to lighten slightly at the news that somebody around here knew what was going on.

"Only a few minutes longer than you," The Guide replied. "So, no. My knowledge of Terraria is purely factual. I have no experience."

Phillip grew a little suspicious of this neutral man and his sudden appearance. "Who then, could have taught you? There are no tutors in Tethail who know of this place. Nobody knows - except people who come here."

The Guide's brow wrinkled, and his slight smile straightened. "I…am not sure. They gave me books. Inserted knowledge into my mind before I came. I just know these things, as they intended me to." His mind seemed to wander to other, darker things.

Phillip knew Tethail's cruel, aged king knew a lot of things that his subjects were forbidden to be enlightened about. That was obvious simply from his confusing conduct on the subject of Terraria. Whatever he did to this man, it wasn't natural or well-known, and no doubt hazardous. Who can naturally stuff information into someone's head by force?

"I can tell you how things work here," The Guide continued, "But I usually can't tell you why." His eyes narrowed. "Watch your friend."

Phillip spun around swiftly. A stingy slimy thing was sitting contentedly at his sister's feet. It vibrated violently, its body wobbling, just like it intended to…jump onto her face. With a slow but precise movement, Phillip brought his heavy boot down onto the gooey creature. The pressure separated the slimy thing into tiny little pieces, which flew about the area, landing in the snow, in the Guide's shirt, and on his sister's face (the latter of which he made sure to rub off so as to save her the trouble later).

"Those are called Slimes, as you could imagine," the Guide said as Phillip stepped over the goop. "They sting a good deal, don't they?"

Phillip recalled the feel of the Slime on his face and shuddered visibly.

"Worse things come out during the night, and they can do much more damage. The first thing we need to do," The Guide began, "Is build a shelter. It can be done in one day without too much effort."

Phillip turned to give him a disbelieving look. "In one day?"

"One," The Guide confirmed. "Some wood should get us started. And if you could kindly gather some of that gel from the Slime, we can craft some torches. And then a workbench, and a door, a table - "

Phillip held up a hand to stop him. "Okay, I hear you. One step at a time, please."

"…Suit yourself." The Guide sidestepped Phillip and bent over Eleanor, examining her face analytically. "We can't do much with this girl until she wakes. Is she a companion of yours?"

"My sister," Phillip said blankly. "She's to be an adventurer as well."

The Guide took on a look of mild surprise. "Two adventurers? Usually only one arrives in Terraria at a time."

Phillip didn't reply to this comment. He was already a little annoyed that he had been forced into this position, but he was even angrier about his sister's position. Ellie wasn't a fighter, and he highly doubted she ever would be, Terraria or no Terraria. If he couldn't protect her, she would barely be able to protect herself; she just wasn't an independent person, and he had no idea if she even wanted to be.

The Guide straightened up and folded his arms, glancing up at the sky. "Nothing will get done if we waste any time. How about that wood?"

"And how do you propose we go about that?" Phillip said, eyeing the trees distastefully.

"Check your pack. All adventurers need to use an axe first thing, so you'll have one. Perfect for chopping down trees. I'd suggest hacking away at two or three - that should be just enough to build a quick little shelter."

Pack? What pack? Phillip looked himself down, and was surprised to find the pack in question on his belt. It was very small, and he highly doubted he would find an axe in it. Looking at it, it would seem a miracle if it could fit a book. He gave the Guide a bewildered look. "That's impossible, surely."

The Guide shrugged. "Trees are for chopping down, you know. It's been done, believe me."

"I mean the axe. How could that fit in this? It's tiny."

"Those packs will fit many items. They're larger inside than outside."

"How is that -"

"Remember," The Guide interrupted, "I can tell you how things work, but not why. I can't explain this any more than that."

"Because?"

The Guide's eyes seemed to narrow slightly. He turned and walked slowly towards the slope nearby. "…I couldn't say. Now, how about that wood?"

Phillip's fingers were numb and icy from the cold, and rummaging through the pack was no easy task. He was surprised to find that there was anything inside to rummage through in the first place. Item after item seemed to touch his fingers, and he had no idea what was what. Closing his hand around something that felt like a decent stab at an axe, he pulled it out and stared at it.

It was likely supposed to be an axe, but it was, undoubtedly, the worst quality tool he had ever seen, and he had seen quite a few - his guardian had been a carpenter, and a cheapskate too. He almost expected the head of the axe to fall off of the handle as he stood there holding it. It didn't, but how would it react to being hit against a tree repeatedly?

With minimum effort, he dashed the axe against the tree with an awkward movement. It didn't break, but it didn't make a single mark on the tree trunk either. He hit again, with a little more determination. And again. And again. And a little bit more. Still not a dent to be seen, but after his sixth or seventh hit the entire tree suddenly burst into pieces. The trunk, the leaves, and the branches seemed to pop into non-existence, sending a pile of neatly formed wood flying, which promptly fell in front of him.

Every ounce of logic that Phillip possessed seemed to come crashing down at his feet. Last time he'd checked, this was definitely not how trees were supposed to work. The king might be able to send people off to a corrupted island with a flick of his fingers, but he'd never heard of a king who could boss the laws of the universe about - or even wanted to.

He did a double-take as the wood began to float towards him at a great speed, vanishing into thin air just as it seemed on the brink of colliding with his body. He looked around, but not a scrap of wood was to be seen. He turned to face the Guide, who stood idly a few feet away. "What happened to the wood? It's gone."

"I can see that," the Guide said, seeming quite unconcerned. "It's in your pack with everything else. Carry on." His tone was a little brisk, which suggested he was in a hurry. "Try two more trees."

Phillip was confused. Very confused. It was likely his confusion that made him so willing to follow the Guide's instructions without question. At least, he was unable to think of anything better to do at the moment. "Forgive me for my hesitation, but I don't understand, and I don't like not understanding. What good will come of this?"

The Guide put his hands behind his back. "Will come of what? Chopping wood, or building a house?"

Phillip felt like he wasn't wording his question properly. He searched for a better inquiry. "What exactly is my purpose here? Why am I here?"

"Weren't you told?"

"They told me I was to be an adventurer. That's all."

"Your purpose is different from my purpose, but in the end one thing remains the same: It is what you make of it. Theoretically your purpose, as the adventurer, is to cleanse Terraria, a fact you should be aware of. How you do it is up to you, as is whether you do it all. Keep in mind, however, that there is a price to pay for going against your purpose."

Phillip knew this. "Isn't there more to it than that?"

"No, not really."

That's all he wanted to know. His mind was already reeling with plans. What would he do first? When could he start? But he held back his impatience in order to make one last inquiry. "Your purpose is to guide me, right? Why did you decide to do that?"

"I decided nothing," the Guide replied after a moment's hesitation, and his blank tone wavered. "I do what the king told me to do because I daren't do anything else. You must do the same if you hope to have any chance of succeeding here."

"You decided nothing. Then, do you mean you didn't volunteer yourself for this?"

"Who would?"

He had a point.

"Once you've built that shelter, and your sister wakes up, I'll tell you a little more about Terraria. From what I've heard, most adventurers only need to know it's a death-trap, and they can let the rest go. But you don't strike me as that kind of type."

If Phillip was going to get any decent answers at all this would likely be his best opportunity. He could only hope the Guide wasn't as offended by endless questions as his guardian had been.