Trulda said goodbye to the revenant at the Adventurers' Guild stand and waved the next person in line over. She smiled when she saw his filthy, torn clothes.

“Let me guess, you tried the quest with the rabbits in the bramble hedge?”

The man shook his head wearily. “No, not a quest. I’m Hendrik, a farmer who tends a field on the northern edge. I... I think a crime has been committed at the neighboring farm.”

“Shouldn’t you take this to the city guard?”

“I already did. They sent two guardsmen, but they just looked around and left.”

“What exactly happened?”

“My neighbor, Luthgar the Blind, he’s not actually blind, long story, is a cattle farmer. His family has owned that farm for five generations. He doesn’t have children, but he always said he’d leave his stable feet first. He bequeathed everything to the local orphanage years ago, and that keeps him motivated to keep things together.”

Trulda glanced at the ever-growing queue in front of the stall and squinted slightly. The farmer noticed and spoke more quickly. “Anyway, he’d never sell. Then, two weeks ago, he missed our weekly chess game. When I went to his house, I found revenants everywhere. His cows were taken one by one into the main house, slaughtered, and cut up by several butchers, journeymen, and helpers. There were armed men all over the grounds and craftsmen bringing in carts of wood and building materials. I asked where Luthgar was, and a thug fetched his master, a real scary guy in a black mage’s robe with a skull-topped staff. Looked like the necromancers in the legends. Smelled bad, too.”

“Excuse me, but please get to the point. There are a lot of people waiting here.”

“Right. The guy claimed he bought the farm from Luthgar, who supposedly left to spend his life in the capital. But Luthgar hates cities! Even Mulnirsheim was too big for him. He’d never go near the capital!”

“The city guard searched the courtyard. What did they find?”

“The necromancer had a purchase contract for the farm and all the cattle. That was enough for them. But something’s not right! Someone needs to investigate properly. Someone needs to find out what happened!”

His voice echoed through the crowd, and the revenants leaned forward, almost greedily waiting for him to continue. Realizing he was the center of attention, he swallowed and continued carefully. “If only... if only some heroes could unravel the mystery.”

For a moment, something flashed red on his forehead but quickly faded. Instead, the quest book on the table flashed red. The revenant behind Hendrik leaned past him, trying to read the book upside down. “What level is the quest?”

Trulda briefly scanned the most important points and announced to everyone present. “A Mystery Quest! Level unknown. Reward unknown.”

Some present looked at her uncomprehendingly, while most nodded knowingly. She immersed herself in the knowledge gained from the guild’s skill crystal and explained. “More detailed information would reveal whether there’s really a crime and how dangerous the perpetrators or how threatening the conspiracy is. Mystery quests give no clues. It could be nothing, and the cattle farmer voluntarily sold his farm and moved away. Then the reward might be a fresh apple pie and a few eggs. Or it could be the start of a conspiracy encompassing the entire kingdom. Nobody knows.”

A figure stepped out of the crowd, the hood of his cloak pulled low over his face. He spoke softly in a hoarse voice, forcing those around to strain to hear. “It could be one of the men in black cloaks. Agents of the High King roam the land, intervening with their wands of memory erasure wherever a sinister alchemical recipe or dark spell threatens to become public knowledge, they intervene with their flashing wands of memory erasure. All that remains are rumors... and mysteries.”

Silence fell over the crowd as he spoke. The revenants pondered his words until one pulled the hood off the conspiracy theorist’s head from behind. “Cut the bullshit, Darken.”

Trulda recognized the revenant Fleetfoot, a thief trying to develop a new character class. Trulda suppressed a grin at the obvious reference to an old 2D movie. “Will you accept the quest?”

“Why not.” The woman glanced briefly at the Master of the Dark Arts. Darken pulled his hood back up and, with a dramatic gesture, whirled his cloak as he stalked off. “We’ll unravel the mystery. The truth... is out there somewhere.”

Fleetfoot rolled her eyes and turned to Trulda. “Okay, we’ll accept the quest.” She leaned down and asked quietly, “Where exactly do we have to go? Darken is always more interested in making a dramatic exit than knowing where he’s actually going.”

Trulda kept a serious face and announced. “The quest is yours. Hendrik here can lead you or draw a sketch of the farm’s location.”

She looked around. “Didn’t you have another warrior with you on the last quest?”

“Bernd? He’s at a centaur blacksmith to order a metal shield. His wooden one now looks like driftwood tied together with old rope, which it basically is.”

“Then I hope this quest brings you money. Centaur craftsmen are expensive.”

“But their weapons and armor are much more durable. It’s worth it in the long term.”

“I know...”

Fleetfoot turned her head as she saw rapid movement out of the corner of her eye. Trulda followed her gaze to a group of five revenants marching from the spawn point toward the Adventurer’s Guild booth. They wore simple clothing, without weapons or armor. Based on stature, Trulda guessed they were two warriors, a thief, a tanned ranger with long hair and beard, and a mage. They must have just spent eight hours in the respawn room, but they looked unusually tense and fuming.

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They marched past the queue. The others sensed something unusual and, for once, didn’t protest, too curious to see what was going on. The woman in a white robe, likely a magician, stopped in front of Trulda, looking down with narrowed eyes.

“Do you notice anything?”

Trulda didn’t recognize her. “Do we know each other?”

“No. But your colleagues gave us a quest yesterday. Recommended for a group of five beginners, level three, which is what we were yesterday.”

“TPK?”

The woman paused but then continued without confusion. Enough NPCs had already incorporated words and terms from the player's language into their vocabulary during the Necromancer War that this was no longer unusual. “Yes. Total party kill.”

Trulda remained deliberately professional, the best way to handle complaints. “What quest?”

“The escort quest from here to the capital: Through the bandit forest. Low danger due to small groups of bandits. Well-paid due to the long duration but low XP. Just right to improve our equipment and learn the route to the capital.”

Trulda leafed through the quest book and found the entry. “You are Haketa, from the hero group: ‘Shield of the Weak’?”

“Exactly. We met with a merchant preparing a small caravan, three covered wagons with goods and an open cart with benches. We had blankets to cushion everything, so it was reasonably comfortable. We couldn’t afford horses. The merchant, Honest Bert, suggested hiding our armor under cloaks and our weapons in a box on the wagon. The thing had a foot pedal with which you could open it, to get to the weapons quickly. That way we wouldn't scare off the bandits. The trader was more interested in finally reducing the number of bandits ambushing wagons. Three wagons and a few unarmed travelers would be an irresistible target.”

Trulda checked the dealer’s name and description. Everything matched. “What went wrong?”

“Our warrior was on the coachman’s seat. When his danger instinct kicked in and he saw movement in the undergrowth ahead of us in the forest, we would stop the carriage, grab our weapons and jump down. I’d cast a shield spell against projectiles and cast spells from the carriage. But Bert didn’t stop; he just drove on like he had a programming error. Heinz had to take the reins from him. Then the pedal jammed. We couldn’t open the box by hand. While I was still tugging at the crate with the others, my protection spell was dispelled. Zack, just gone. The teacher who taught me the banishing spell at the academy over there wasn't so quick with it. After all, you have to analyze the target spell or know it yourself in order to banish it. General banishing spells that you can cast on other people's unknown magic are level 4 or higher. While I was still looking for the mage, robbers with crossbows emerged from behind the trees on either side of us in the forest, six on each side. After the first volley, we tried to run, but they had loaded crossbows lying on the ground next to them. Robbers with two crossbows each!”

“They shot at you without warning? No threats? No demands for gold?” Trulda’s incredulous voice calmed the revenant somewhat. The group looked less grim.

Haketa nodded. “We didn’t stand a chance. That wasn’t fair. I think the driver sabotaged the chest and supported the robbers by driving into the ambush.”

Trulda rubbed her chin and looked around, wishing Sidri or Idris were there, but they were taking a break. She had no one to ask what to do. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a listener hurriedly disappear but ignored it. She looked down at the quest book, as if it might contain a clue. But it didn’t. There was grumbling all around. Some revenants wanted to finally pick up their quests; others expected her to do something. She just couldn't hear any meaningful suggestions as to what exactly she should do. The AI hadn’t changed the quest’s level, meaning it shouldn’t have been so brutally devious.

The light around the stand flickered. Shadows spun and broke away from their sources, gathering behind the revenants. A figure with a hood pulled low over its face appeared. Shadows crawled up his body and disappeared under the hood. There was no trace of a face, just formless blackness. Then it flared, the red glow of light in the familiar color of a quest giver lighting up, but still without revealing the face.

Noone dared to pull down the hood of this stranger after this eerie effect.

A soft, hoarse voice rang out. Silence fell over the crowd as everyone tried to understand the quest giver. “A mysterious trap by unknown villains. If only a hero could be found to investigate this mystery.”

Everyone received the same notification:

Mystery quest available: "Ambush the Ambushers”

The quest "Through the Bandit Forest" has been infiltrated and turned into a trap. Not only was the brave group of heroes ambushing the sinister bandits on the trade route struck down in an unexpectedly brutal ambush, the villains also managed to steal their equipment beforehand.

Threat level: Unknown

Reward: Unknown

Penalty for failure: None

Trulda looked expectantly at the group. The revenants exchanged glances, then all shook their heads. Haketa put it into words. “A dozen opponents of unknown strength with good equipment and a capable mage? That’s too much for us. Even if we’re not surprised again.” The group moved aside to make room for interested parties.

Trulda looked around expectantly. The druid at the front of the line raised his hands defensively. “This is a detective quest. I’m terrible at that.”

Others murmured similar things. Trulda looked around in disbelief. “Are you seriously going to let someone target heroes?”

Embarrassed shuffling of feet and grumbling resounded. The revenants clearly had no desire to take on such a large group of opponents.

In the background, she recognized a familiar face looming over the crowd. “Hey, Rhea! Is this not for you?”

The half-giantess laughed deeply. “High danger, unknown reward, and potential for a TPK? Usually just our thing. But weekend at home is almost over and exams are coming. We’re logging out for a few days. Our group also isn’t suited for undercover work.”

Someone shouted: “Maybe you just need a bigger cover.”

Trulda waited a bit longer, but no one was interested. She sighed. By now, most players had heard of two of the previous mystery quests in other major starting areas. Both attracted multiple hero groups and turned out to be duds. The enthusiasm for mystery quests had gone down sharply after.

This one seemed even sinister, and the opposition was likely either a nasty player clan or a complex system-engineered conspiracy. She considered taking the quest herself, but her group wasn’t fully equipped. They needed to start smaller and train working together first. This quest seemed dangerous. If they fell into such a trap, only she would return from a spawn point. They weren’t ready yet.

She would keep an eye out for a group interested in a detective quest, but there usually wasn’t much demand. What a pity. As far as she knew, only the AI could create mystery quests. Nemesis had probably used Weylan as a convenient mouthpiece when he tried to create a normal quest.

In the background, the spawn point lit up, and a player in a distinctive formfitting female red and golden plate armor appeared. Iron Ma’am jumped down from the stone. Trulda saw her talking to some nearby players, who shook their heads and seemed to politely decline something. She went to another group with the same reaction. Throwing her hands up in exasperation, the elderly arcane knight put on her helmet and stomped away.

Trulda leafed through the quest book and found that Iron Ma’am had signed up for a quest in a small village a few days’ walk north. It was marked as urgent and rated for a group of four level-5 heroes, but she’d signed up alone. She was tempted to follow the arcane knight to ask how it was going, but with a crowd of customers around there was just no way. She looked for Weylan, but he’d disappeared while everyone read the mystery quest notice.