James leaned against the Adventurer’s Guild’s quest board, arms crossed as he scanned the various names and listings. Teams looking for extra members, lone adventurers searching for parties, some veteran squads outright advertising newbie-friendly groups—though James had started to suspect newbie-friendly actually meant human meat shield wanted.

Lyra stood beside him, flipping through a parchment with a raised eyebrow. “You seeing anything that doesn’t scream ‘we will absolutely use you as a disposable distraction’?”

James grunted. “Not really. There’s one over here just titled ‘DPS Wanted, No Crybabies.’” He tapped the posting. “Which, given this game’s track record, probably means ‘please be okay with losing your limbs on a regular basis.’”

“Pass.” Lyra scrunched up her nose. “I like my limbs where they are.”

A voice cut in from behind them. “Oh, you guys still have your limbs? Good sign.”

James turned to see a woman with a confident smirk leaning on the back of a nearby chair. She had short, dark red hair, a couple of small scars across her jawline, and a relaxed stance that suggested she had seen some shit and lived to joke about it. She wore a mix of light and medium armor, leather vambraces, and a curved saber at her side.

“Sorry, were you waiting for someone to lose an arm before saying hi?” James asked.

“Would’ve been a good icebreaker,” she shot back. “Name’s Riona. You two looking for a team or just browsing the ‘missing persons’ wall?”

Lyra raised an eyebrow. “Missing persons?”

“Half of these teams are probably dead already.”

James sighed. “That checks out.”

Another voice piped up, this one more playful. “Come on, Ri, don’t scare off the new recruits before we even talk to them.”

A second woman strolled up, this one with dark blue hair tied into a loose ponytail and a bow slung across her back. She gave James and Lyra an easygoing grin. “I’m Lillian. The big guy over there pretending he’s not eavesdropping is Garrick.”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

At a nearby table, a broad-shouldered man with messy brown hair and a thick beard gave a small wave before taking another bite of his food. He was wearing chainmail over basic padded armor and had a massive axe resting against his chair. “Not eavesdropping,” he said between chews. “Just making sure you two aren’t complete dumbasses before we invite you in.”

James snorted. “Oh, you’re gonna be very disappointed.”

Lillian clapped her hands together. “Great! A healthy level of self-awareness. You’ll fit right in.”

Lyra smirked. “And what makes you think we’d want to join you?”

Riona grinned. “Because, unlike most teams, we don’t have a habit of immediately feeding new members to the nearest death trap.”

James raised an eyebrow. “That sounds suspiciously like exactly what someone who does feed new members to death traps would say.”

Lillian laughed. “Damn, he’s onto us.”

Garrick motioned toward the empty chairs at their table. “If you want, sit down, grab a drink. We’ll talk shop. You’re new, but you don’t look completely useless.”

James exchanged a glance with Lyra. She shrugged, and they both sat.

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The next hour was filled with introductions, sarcastic jabs, and war stories that left James unsure if he was making new friends or signing up for yet another terrible idea.

Riona liked close combat but didn’t rely on just one weapon. “I swap between swords, spears, and daggers depending on what I need,” she explained. “Focusing on just one style in this game is a death sentence.”

Lillian mostly used ranged weapons, but she wasn’t locked into it. “Bows are great, but some fights call for a backup plan. I keep a shortsword and a throwing knife set for when things get dicey.”

Garrick was built for survivability. “I take the hits,” he said simply. “Axe, shield, two-hander, doesn’t matter. I wear the heaviest armor I can and make sure I’m the last one standing.”

James nodded. “Relatable.”

Garrick chuckled. “Sounds like you’ve had a rough go of it.”

James exhaled. “You have no idea.”

Lyra leaned back. “So, what’s your usual gig? Dungeons? Escort missions? Bounty hunting?”

Riona shrugged. “Bit of everything. We don’t take the suicidal jobs—”

“Debatable,” Lillian interjected.

“—but we do well enough to keep our heads attached,” Riona finished.

James considered that. “And you’re looking for extra hands?”

Garrick nodded. “We lost a guy a while back.”

James hesitated. “Dead?”

“Worse,” Lillian said. “Logged out.”

There was a beat of silence.

Riona sighed. “Bastard got lucky and found a logout method. Took off without a second thought.”

James frowned. That was… interesting.

Lyra tapped her fingers on the table. “So, what would you need from us?”

Riona smirked. “Not dying would be a good start.”

James snorted. “Tall order.”

Lillian leaned forward. “We’ve got a job lined up. Something manageable. We take you two along, see how you handle yourselves. If we don’t hate you by the end of it, we make it official.”

James exchanged another glance with Lyra. She gave a small nod.

He turned back to the group. “Sounds like a plan.”

Riona grinned. “Welcome aboard.”

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