Daiden followed an escort to a wide hall filled with art, sculptures, and even pieces of clothing on frames. Swords hung on the walls as well, with shields, spears, hammers, and more. The soft, blue carpet, laced with gold lines on either side, muted the sound from their footsteps. The winds blew from across the windows, whistling upon entry and exit. Other important-looking people meandered about, either in conversation, or buried in thought, from the papers on hand.

They stopped at a painting, a large, detailed map of the city, at the centre of Multana Desert, with several villages and small towns around it. Daiden read the words – The Earldom of Multana, decoratively painted in a curve, across the brown canvas. He gulped. “So, Lord Ingrid is an Earl.” His eyes shifted to the walls, stone-cut and locked, with precision – smooth and without blemish.

“I heard that there might be a problem with the quest concerning Gis, the Butcher,” said Daiden, making conversation. “Is that true?”

The escort stopped, turning his head slightly. “I am in no position to answer your question, any questions.”

Daiden continued to walk a little behind the escort, feigning a smile. They crossed a short, wooden door, with another door in front of them and a stairway to the right. The escort opened the second door as well, entering a larger space, sparsely furnished – with a desk by the window, and a fireplace on the other end. A short, stout man raised his head at the sound of visitors. He moved from behind the table, away from a neat stack of documents, holding a pad with a candle waxed onto the top end of the clip.

“Hero of the Desert!” exclaimed the man, with a bright smile. “What an honour it is to meet with such a young person of fame, such promising potential for future fortune and wealth!”

Taken aback at first, Daiden recovered to respond with soft bow. “Well met. I’m Daiden Lost.”

“Who here hasn’t heard of your exploits, my child?” the man continued. “Raiding a Monarch, Mighty King Erlendur…you’ve made quite a name for yourself. I’ve been talking you up within my circles as well.”

Daiden smiled back at the man.

“Politics is a tricky thing,” the man said, strangely. “But having you here is simply spectacular! Just imagine the tourists, a few hundred years from now, coming to where you first started your journey, your legend. Multana City! Ah! What a dream…

But, but, how rude of me! Let me introduce myself. I am the Minister of Commerce for the Multana Earldom. You can call me Tyr. It’s a short, nice name.”

“It is a very nice name!” said Daiden, with a sincere expression. “I’m always honoured to meet with someone important. Again, I’m Daiden.”

In a handshake, Tyr pleasantly patted Daiden’s arm. “Yes, yes! Let’s discuss business, then, shall we?”

The escort stiffened his posture, sliding his heel to a click. With a bow, he pressed his fist against his heart and retreated. Tyr acknowledged the gesture and returned to his seat, pointing to an open chair for Daiden.

“I’ll not beat around the bush,” said Tyr, leaning ahead. “We made an exception with you. Lord Ingrid is refusing to meet with anyone. It’s been like this for the last three months. During this period, we turned down quest queries on Gis, the Butcher as well. But here we are…”

“Yes?” said Daiden, uncertainly. “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand.”

“Nor should you,” continued Tyr, waving aside any concern. “There’s no way to explain this without being honest. So, that’s what I’ll do.

Everything started at a party…yes, a little over three months ago. Lord Ingrid met with an ambassador from the Noxun Empire, an influential person. They discussed the possibility of opening a trade route, to forge a relationship of peace.”

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Daiden rested his shoulders and nodded, urging for a continuation.

“Well, this is embarrassing…” said Tyr, almost in a stutter. “But a week after the scheduled discussion, we noticed a spatial tear in our underground dungeon, a door. It took us by surprise, the guards as well. We lost almost everyone stationed to control Gis to the undead, a lot of them. It’s an infestation down there.

“Ordinarily, this would be a small matter for us to deal with.”

“What’s the problem then, if I may ask?” said Daiden, after some thought.

“Lord Ingrid recently moved troops to aid with a conflict in the eastern parts of our Empire,” explained Tyr, lowering his voice. “We can’t cause any unrest amongst the public, and we can’t afford to move the guards from their positions, more so with some of our soldiers belonging to noble families. Our nobles love to blab, you see. It’s very problematic, it’s a predicament…

We had to seal access to the underground dungeon.”

“Can’t you ask the Empire for help?” asked Daiden. “They should be able to handle this level of discretion.”

“No,” said Tyr, simply, shaking his head. “This is the Earldom of Multana. Our claim to everything in this territory is ironclad, including its safety. A show of weakness is unacceptable.”

Daiden shifted on his seat, uneasily. “Let me change the question. Why tell me this?”

With a toothy grin, Tyr happily responded, “As luck would have it, we erected a Temple for Sol Sanctum, here at the Lord’s Castle. It’s attended to by a journeying priest. He’s agreed to help with the matter, by closing the spatial door. We would like to offer you an alternative quest, to escort and guard the priest until the completion of his task. If successful, I’ll personally ensure that you’re allowed to challenge the Butcher.”

“You’re asking me to handle an infestation…with some priest I need to protect?” thought Daiden, pausing from the conversation. “He’s probably more important than I can imagine. After all that complaining, they readily reveal this situation to him. Doesn’t sound right at all…”

“What about the compensation?” asked Daiden, with a firm expression.

Tyr raised two fingers. “Twenty-thousand bloodstones.”

Daiden almost choked from the revelation. His fingers clenched to his seat, to relieve the tension from his face. He tapped his foot against the floor, as if in thought still. With a hum, he slowly shook his head.

“An infestation, with someone I need to protect,” repeated Daiden, out loud. “And I’m without support inside. I’ll need something a little more valuable than bloodstones.”

“You might be a hero now, Ser Daiden, but I am in no mood for negotiations,” said Tyr, without patience. “I don’t think you quite understand your position here. I can have you killed for any number of reasons, maybe even bring shame to your family by calling it treason…conspiring against the crown, perhaps.”

Daiden felt his chest knot from the pressure, but held to a position of calm. He forced a smile, for merely a moment at first, and then in continuation until it persisted. “No, you won’t.”

“And why is that?”

“In addition to being the Hero of the Desert, I also happen to be the Lord of Fire’s grandson,” said Daiden, at a deliberate pace. “But let us keep that aside for a minute. You just told me everything. You’re desperate, and you might be running out of time. I think you need me, more alive than dead.”

“I could just kill you and blame it on the Butcher,” said Tyr, unflinchingly. “You underestimate our ability in making you disappear.”

“Perhaps,” admitted Daiden, without protest. “But would you risk it anyway, knowing that there’s always the possibility, no matter how small, of the Lord of Fire finding out?”

The Minister of Commerce drummed his fingers, in a frown. “Fine! How about a Sphere of Evolution?”

Daiden cocked his head to one side.

“It can help you partially advance one of your skills by predicting the path of your growth,” explained Tyr, rubbing his eyes. “What might take months or years to even understand, you earn by ingesting this sphere. It’s worth a lot of bloodstones.”

“Sounds reasonable,” said Daiden, with a smile. “We can still be friends, yes?”

Tyr sighed out loud. “Why not…” He shook away the unpleasantness and said, “There is one other thing. We will seal the entrance after you enter. It will only open if you return with the priest from Sol Sanctum, confirming the closure of the spatial door. And remember this as well, even with the infestation cleared, if you somehow fail in protecting the priest, we will leave you inside to rot.

Even the Lord of Fire can’t do much when it comes to dying in the line of duty.”

“I understand,” said Daiden, simply. “Allow me to leave for the day. I’ll return at night after some preparation and research.”

Tyr agreed. “Very well. On your journey inside, you might find some clues to the perpetrator of this crime. Keep an eye out for anything suspicious. It’s important for us to know who did this…someone intending to sabotage our attempts at alliances, or simply a Noxun Agent causing unrest under the guise of peace and conversation. I’ll trust this quest onto you then.”

“They mention the undead, and you don’t so much as flinch,” thought Daiden, in a half-smile. “Looks like you’re more Mioveroldian than human now…heh, congratulations…”

“And Daiden,” called Tyr, watching his guest reach the door. “I wish you luck.”