You stride into Brakenford together. Maybe in some other life, you consider, you would have bothered with stealth, or pretending to be an animal companion, or some other excuse. But here, a simple fact burned hot and prideful in your mind.

You are a Boss. And you do not hide from townsfolk.

You took the main road, and the cobbles click against your claws in a slow staccato beat. The single militaman they have posted as a guard steps forwards, halberd raised, but you quell him with a look, and Mercy peels away from you, making a beeline for the terrified man. You would feel bad for him, but his last five minutes are probably going to be the best of his life.

Now alone, you continue along the road between houses and shops. NPCs pour out of the buildings you pass, gaping at you. A Monster that dared to walk the streets, unafraid of player retribution.

Inside, you repeated a simple mantra.

please let this work please let this work please let this work

Finally, followed by a sizeable crowd of peasant folk, you reach your destination. A simple statue, commemorating some long gone hero of lore, mouldering and slightly overgrown, it still served as the centre of the town. With a leap, you perched on the statue's outstretched arm, flared your wings out slightly, and did your best to smile.

It might have looked like a grimace, but luckily, you wager that not many of the assembled townsfolk are particularly familiar with drakeling facial expressions.

It does not take long for someone to shove their way through the assembled crowds. An adventurer. You had been hoping against hope that it would be a low level, new player. Someone that between Mercy and yourself you would be able to defeat and let rumour spread.

Not your best plan, you admitted to her before you entered town, but fame was fame. You'd be happy to take a beating if it got you closer to evolving your form.

Rominov Rominov, level 17 wizard

The man was large of frame, with a bushy beard and wild hair. He bore distinctive tattoos along the left side of his face, runes curled together so tightly as to be mistaken for a solid bar of blue at first glance. The staff strapped to his back doesn't look anything special to you, but it's certainly not a Novice Staff either, so you have no idea what it could do and you don't have time to perceive it too.

He strides towards you, until he is stood before your perch. Due to the height difference, you are left looking down at the top of his head as he turns to look over his shoulder, while pointing at you.

“Found him.”

You blink, and slowly relax back down from your pre-fight tense. You're not sure exactly what's happening, but imminent violence does not seem to be on the cards.

Another figure steps from the crowd, grinning. An elf, dressed in leathers that blur the air with some magical effect, making it difficult to tell their gender.

Celli Newmoon, Level 16 rogue

“Pretty sure it's cheating if he walks into the town we're staying at.”

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Their voice is as androgynous as their form, and you are unable to discern more before they too turn and look into the crowd.

“Hey, so, do we get paid automatically or what?”

A third figure finally emerges from the press of bodies, and although it has been a busy week, you recognise her. Copper hair atop a finely featured face. The robes were different. Less layers, and a cheaper looking, brown colour. Her staff was different too – more of a twist of wood, missing any fine ornamentation.

Amanda Cindersun, Level 7 Disgraced Cleric

You gaze at her, unsure how to proceed. Finally, the quests make sense. Escort quests. You told her to come and find you, after all.

Human, Abandoned, Explicit

You rock back a little as you see her tags, suppressing a wince. You've never been a hero, or a player, that much should be obvious, but still. You know what the shift in her tags means.

Amanda, copper hair flashing in the filtered sunlight, walks past the elf and tattooed man, waving them off with a “You've already been paid.”

She has eyes only for you. Her expression is unreadable, and her pace slow as she makes her way to you. When she stops in front of you, neither of you speak for a long time. Eventually, you feel the need to break the silence.

“In my defence, this is not how I envisaged this trip going at all.”

She gives a half laugh, but it seems forced to you. Large bags hang under her eyes, and her hair is dishevelled. After a few more moments of staring, she gestures to the ground, and you slink your way down the statue till you stand next to her.

“You've grown.” Its the first things she's said to you. You nod.

“Thanks to you.”

She cocks her head at you, and you finally click as to what is different about her. Her eyes have a hardness, a steel they didn't have before.

“Sounds like a story.” Amanda barely glances up as Mercy jogs over, clearing a path through the still massed villagers with ease. You nod, glancing around. At the edges of the crowd, small groups oddly dressed individuals are gathering.

“It is. One that is best told somewhere else.”

Mercy looks between you. “What's happening Red? Who's this?”

Amanda turns to her and sticks out a hand. “Amanda. Ex-adventurer. An... old acquaintance of your friend here.”

Mercy shakes the proffered hand, bemused, and turns back to you. “What happened to the 'bait an attack and-',”

But you cut her off. “Plans change I guess.” She doesn't seem satisfied with your answer so you continue. “For what it's worth, this isn't how I envisaged this going, but-” you quickly check your fame; 387, “I'm generating fame at a fair rate, and got a chunk just for walking into town so brazenly. I'm pretty happy with how this went.”

Mercy shoots Amanda a calculating look that the redhead ignores, before both turn to you. Amanda speaks first. “I know of a secluded cave nearby if you wanted to talk safely?”

You nod absently, most of your attention still on the slowly gathering adventurers. You knew this wasn't exactly a great plan when you made it but neither you nor Mercy had been able to come up with a better way to generate fame quickly. Mercy follows your eyes, her own widening and her steps lengthening.

“Yes, a nice safe talk sounds good right about now Red.”

Amanda arches an eyebrow at you. “Red?” You grin.

“I forget I wasn't named until after you... left. Better to explain everything at once though, it'll make more sense chronologically than if I fill you in piece by piece. Trust me, I lived it and I'm still not sure it happened.”

You keep grinning, even as your blood begins to sing with the anticipation of combat. Something about Amanda brings out your bubbly side, you must admit.

The crowd, while it does turn to watch you go, doesn't follow, and before you know it you're at the edge of town, walking quickly. You turn to Amanda.

“Did you see-”

She cuts you off, “The people following us? Yes.”

Once again, there's a harshness to her that you can't place. A grim acceptance. You wonder what exactly happened to her after you fucked her. You shake the thoughts from your mind and ask instead “How do you want to do this?”