The scene opens on a bustling medieval city, its streets filled with a blend of fantasy races: elves, dwarves, humans, and beastfolk - all mingling as they go about their daily lives. Vendors shout their wares from outdoor market stalls, offering everything from enchanted trinkets to fresh produce. Street performers entertain passersby, and the clamor of blacksmiths can be heard hammering in the distance. Towering above the city is a grand adventure guild, a hub for mercenaries, adventurers, and traders.

Among the crowd, a cloaked figure weaves through the busy streets, a heavy bag slung over his shoulder in one hand, and a sword hanging from his wrist. His hood obscures his face, but his deliberate stride suggests he knows exactly where he's headed. The figure stops in front of the large, ornate doors of the Adventurer’s Guild, pushing them open and stepping inside.

The interior is spacious and lively, with adventurers of all ranks scattered about, discussing quests or boasting of their recent exploits. Some sit around sturdy wooden tables, eating hearty meals and clinking mugs of ale, their laughter and conversation filling the air. Others share stories of their adventures, showing off new scars or displaying the rare items they’ve brought back from their latest quests. The scent of roasted meat and bread wafts through the hall, mixing with the faint aroma of smoke from the hearth.

The figure approaches an open register, where a cheerful guild receptionist stands behind the counter with a polite smile.

“Welcome to the Adventurer’s Guild,” the receptionist greets, her voice bright and professional. “How can I assist you today?”

Without a word, the cloaked figure swings the bag from his shoulder and places it on the counter. He unties the leather strings and reveals several shimmering crystals inside. The receptionist’s eyes widen slightly in surprise but she quickly pulls out a special magnifying glass, a tool enchanted to measure the mana levels within the crystals and identify the monsters they came from. She begins inspecting the crystals, her expression turning serious as she examines them one by one.

After a few moments, she looks up from the crystals. “Let’s see... Five F-rank goblin mana crystals, eight E-rank woodlin mana crystals, and two D-rank lightning wolf crystals,” she says, glancing at the figure for confirmation.

The person nods, his voice calm but carrying a subtle weight to it, as if he’s seen more than his share of hardship. “That’s right.”

The receptionist nods, impressed by the haul. “Very well, I’ll process your payment. May I see your guild identification card?”

The figure takes off his hood, revealing his face, dark unkempt hair and sharp brown eyes that hold a steady, unflinching gaze. A faint scar runs along the side of his left eye, though it’s clear he still has full use of both. He pulls out a worn Guild ID and places it on the counter.

The receptionist scans the ID, her expression not faltering as she reads the name on the card. “David,” she says. “You’ve been busy, haven’t you?”

David offers a faint smile, though it doesn't reach his eyes. “Just doing everything to get my living.”

After receiving his payment, David books a room for the night at the receptionist's desk. After paying for the room and getting the keys, he heads to an empty table and orders something to eat and drink. His drink arrives immediately, a frothy mug of ale but he has to wait for his food to be prepared. While sitting and sipping from his mug, David reaches into his bag and pulls out a stack of posters. These were quest posters, usually seen pinned to the board in the guild, but he had his own for personal review.

As David sorts through the stack, he stops at a particular poster, his expression hardening. The poster described a large, horrific monster, clad in knight's armor and wielding a massive sword. The creature had been marked as a C-rank adventurer quest, meaning it was classified as a D-rank monster, dangerous but manageable for an experienced fighter. However, the bounty for this particular quest was unusually high. The reason? The monster had slaughtered four well-known nobles, along with their personal guards and several adventurers who had been hired to protect them.

It wasn't just the nobles’ deaths that made this quest stand out, but the fact that even seasoned C-rank adventurers fighters capable of handling dangerous missions, had fallen to the creature. The guards and adventurers hadn’t stood a chance against the monster’s brutal strength and speed. The incident had shaken the local guilds and noble houses, pushing this quest into higher priority, despite its initial classification.

The description on the poster was sparse: fast, incredibly strong, and intelligent. Even though it was marked as a quest for C-rank adventurers, the exceptionally high reward hinted that this was far more dangerous than any ordinary D-rank monster. David's brow furrowed slightly as he scanned the details, his thoughts interrupted only by the arrival of his food.

As he began eating, his ears tuned in to the chatter of the other adventurers around him. Most of the conversations were light-hearted, with groups talking about their latest quests or sharing jokes. Some were debating team formations for upcoming challenges. But then, amidst the general noise, David overheard a conversation about the very monster he had been reading about.

A grizzled adventurer at a nearby table was telling a group that the monster had claimed another noble's life recently, along with several C-rank adventurers who had been hired to protect him. "The guild's probably going to upgrade the quest to B-rank soon," the man said, his voice low and serious. "No way that's just a D-rank monster. Not with the way it's been tearing through people."

David paused mid-bite, his eyes narrowing slightly as he listened. He continued eating but kept his focus on the conversation.

"And that's not all," the adventurer continued, lowering his voice as the others leaned in. "There's been rumors... People say there's a figure, a shadowy one, that shows up right before the monster attacks. No one's sure what it means, but it's spooked enough people that they're thinking there's something more going on."

The others around the table seemed intrigued, but they quickly shrugged it off as just a tale meant to scare the newer adventurers. David, however, filed the information away, thinking of the shadowy figure as a potential clue.

Stolen story; please report.

Finishing his meal, David stood up from the table, his mind still on the poster and the conversation. He walked past the laughing adventurers and headed for the stairs that led to the second floor, where his room was. Once inside, he swung the larger bag off his back, setting it near the door, and unclipped the smaller pouch from his belt.

After removing his cloak and hanging it on a peg, , he revealed the light armor underneath. David unbuckled his weapon belt. His sword came off first, which he laid carefully beside his bags. Then, reaching behind, he unclipped his pair of daggers, placing them on the nightstand. With his gear finally set aside, he collapsed onto the bed, feeling the day's weight ease from his body.

The scene shifts to a dark, cobblestone street, dimly lit by flickering lanterns. The city is shrouded in the stillness of the night, with only the occasional rustle of wind disturbing the quiet. A nobleman's carriage, pulled by two sleek black horses, thunders down the street. The clattering of hooves and the jingling of armor echo against the stone buildings. The carriage is escorted by armored knights on horseback, their expressions tense beneath their visors.

Inside the carriage, the nobleman leans forward, barking orders at the driver. His face is flushed with fear, anger and impatience. "Faster, you fool! I swear, if you don't get us to the estate soon, I'll have your heads on pikes!" The knights exchange nervous glances but urge their horses to quicken the pace.

Within minutes, the convoy arrives at the gates of a sprawling nobleman's mansion. The towering iron gates creak open, and the carriage hurtles through, followed closely by the knights. As soon as they enter the courtyard, the nobleman throws the carriage door open, storming out before the horses even come to a full stop. His cloak billows behind him as he rushes inside the mansion, flanked by two knights.

The scene shifts to the interior of a grand, opulent room. A large fireplace crackles with warmth, casting flickering light across the room's fine furnishings. Ornate chairs line both sides of the chamber, but only one is occupied. A man sits there, draped in fine robes, his fingers idly toying with a glass of amber liquid - some form of rare, expensive whiskey. His face is calm, almost bored, as he stares into the fire, occasionally sipping from his glass.

The door bursts open with a bang, and the man inside the carriage storms in, his face pale with terror. "Roderick!" he yells, addressing the man by the fire. "How can you sit there drinking at a time like this?"

Roderick, the nobleman seated in the expensive chair, lifts his glass in a lazy greeting. "Ah, Edvard, you’ve arrived. Good to see you." His voice is smooth, calm, completely at odds with the panic on Edvard's face.

Edvard paces frantically, his boots echoing off the polished floor. "It's no time for pleasantries! You heard about the monster, haven’t you? Five nobles! Five of our closest allies, Roderick! Dead! That thing tore through their guards like paper, and we're next! Do you hear me? We're next!"

Roderick’s brow lifts slightly, though he remains composed. He swirls the whiskey in his glass before taking another sip. "Calm yourself, Edvard. Has Johan said anything?"

At the mention of Johan, Edvard stops pacing. He slumps into a chair next to Roderick, exhausted and disheveled. “No. I couldn’t even reach him,” Edvard mutters. His voice is shaky. “You know how he is. Always the lone wolf... never willing to adapt to this... life.” He gestures around, as if the room itself represented their new world of wealth and luxury.

Roderick chuckles softly, pouring another glass of the fine whiskey and handing it to Edvard. “Johan never did learn how to embrace the good life, did he? Always wandering the wilds, living like some common adventurer.” He leans back in his chair, his smirk growing. “But you’re here now. And as long as we remain in this mansion, my friend, nothing can touch us.”

Edvard looks up from his drink, his eyes still clouded with fear. “How can you be so sure?”

Roderick raises his glass, tilting it toward the large windows that overlook the city. “We’re in Ecklein, Edvard. The city of adventurers. We have the strongest city walls in the region, and if that monster dares to approach, the walls will stop it. And even if they don’t, this city is full of adventurers itching for a good fight. That thing won’t last five minutes.”

Edvard hesitates but slowly nods, a small smile of relief creeping onto his face. “You’re right... We’re safe here. As long as we stay, nothing will happen to us.”

The two nobles raise their glasses in a toast, Roderick smirking confidently. “To us,” Roderick says, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

“To us,” Edvard repeats, his previous fear now replaced with cautious optimism. They clink their glasses together, and their laughter fills the room.

The scene transitions, pulling away from the mansion’s warm interior, through the bustling streets of Ecklein, and out toward the towering city walls. Guards patrol the battlements, their armor glinting in the moonlight, unaware of the shadowy figure lurking just beyond the safety of the walls.

The scen pans further, into the darkened woods surrounding the city. High on a hill, cloaked in the shadows of the trees, stands a mysterious figure. Their body is wrapped in a dark, weathered cloak, the hood pulled low to conceal their face. The figure’s posture is still, yet there is a palpable tension in the air around them, an aura of menace that seems to ripple through the forest.

From the hilltop, the figure’s gaze is fixed on the distant mansion, barely visible through the branches. Their breath is slow and deliberate, their presence a silent threat in the night.

David was caught in the grips of a nightmare, the vivid memories of his past playing out like a dark, twisted film. His village was ablaze, the flames licking the wooden houses, sending thick black smoke spiraling into the night sky. The screams of his friends and neighbors echoed in his ears, and everywhere he turned, there was nothing but chaos and destruction. The crackling of the fire grew louder, drowning out the cries, as if the flames themselves were alive, feeding off the despair of the villagers.

In the midst of it all, David stood frozen, powerless to stop the devastation. His eyes locked on the figure of his father, axe in hand, charging a shadowy attacker. But before David could move, a massive burning log from one of the collapsing buildings fell, crushing his back with a searing heat. He screamed in agony as the weight pressed down, the smell of burning flesh filling his senses.

With a jolt, David woke up, gasping for air, his body drenched in a cold sweat. His heart pounded in his chest as the remnants of the nightmare lingered in his mind. It was already morning, the soft light of dawn seeping through the window of his room at the adventurer's guild. He sat up, running a trembling hand through his damp, messy hair before forcing himself out of bed.

David made his way to the small bathroom attached to his room, where a large wooden basin filled with cold water waited. Without hesitation, he stripped off his clothes, revealing the map of scars that covered his body. Some were small, remnants of minor battles, but others were deeper, more grotesque. The most prominent scar ran across his back, a jagged line that looked as though something heavy and burning had crushed him. The old wound throbbed faintly, a reminder of the horrors he had lived through.

He splashed the cold water on his face, the chill waking him fully. He washed himself, trying to shake off the lingering effects of the nightmare. After drying off and getting dressed in his light armor, David methodically packed his belongings. First, he buckled his weapon belt around his waist, securing his sword at his side. Then, he reached behind and clipped his pair of daggers to the back of the belt. Next, he slung the larger bag over his shoulder and attached the smaller pouch to his belt. Finally, he fastened his cloak, pulling it over his shoulders, ensuring everything was in place.

Once ready, he made his way downstairs to the bustling adventurer's guild. The noise of the morning crowd was a welcome distraction from his troubled thoughts. At the counter, he approached the receptionist and returned the room keys. With a curt nod, David turned, leaving the guild behind as he stepped out into the streets, the city alive with activity.