"You have a file on me?"

The head of Baronston's banch of the Adventurer's Guild nodded from behind her desk, or rather, work surface. It was a plank of wood balanced atop eight crates of liquor occupying half the store room of the tavern. Parry observed her returning to the guild house and followed close behind, catching her ear and asking for a moment of her time.

She was a half-elven woman of twenty, forty, one hundred, who could tell? Elves of any stripe defied cursory appraisal. She wore neat clothing, almost prim, exuding an air of practiced confidence at odds with the surroundings. It tugged hard on his curiosity.

"And that's it right there, my file, already on your...desk...just as we're sitting down?"

The woman smiled behind platinum bangs. "My assistant Alpin is efficient."

That wasn't the word Parry would have used. "They greeted me like an excited puppy, I could barely give my name. I distinctly mentioned I wasn't an adventurer, let alone registered."

She eyed a bar napkin atop the file. "Yes, that's what my note says."

Parry glanced at the store room with its racks of bottles, scattered boxes and enthusiastic mildew. "I have questions."

"The western half of Tyryn Palisade has been settlement-safe only for a few decades," the guild master offered. "Monsters and hostiles of all kinds continue to push back against pioneers, explorers, land-claimants and the Baron's authority. Eager to impress the Duke and Duchess without having to expend too many of his own resources, the Baron reached out to us. We have considerable autonomy here, it pays to be organized."

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

A very sweaty man interrupted this dissertation to haul a barrel of beer out of the room, scraping it along the floor, grunting and swearing the whole time. She didn't appear to notice at all.

"I could funnel our resources into an impressive hall or subsidize a tavern where we set our own rules. Which do you think tired, thirsty adventurers appreciate more?"

He thought about that a moment.

"I assure you, despite appearances, we're very much in communication with other guilds around the continent and have all the facilities necessary to organize the taming of this land."

"I guess so, if you have a file on everyone who drops in."

That made her frown and reach for a pair of spectacles. "No, that's peculiar, you're right to be puzzled." She took a moment to read the parchment, the frown deepening. "I'm instructed to share certain information with you but only after you've cleared the dungeon."

Parry arched an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"The dungeon that just appeared, yes. It's rated for eagle rank adventurers, higher than I'd expect this close to the city. It shouldn't pose you much trouble, not at wolf rank."

"I'm not an adventurer at all, Guildmaster Kint."

"I have it on unimpeachable authority you are, in fact, at wolf rank and are a member of this guild in good standing, dues paid on time over two decades."

Parry felt a shock at the absurdity, excitement climbing in his chest. "I'm thirteen."

"You seem young, yes."

"Your 'authority' must be mistaken."

She shook her head. "I wrote this file myself. This is my handwriting. As I said, unimpeachable."

A gleam of excitement flashed in Parry's eyes. "When...?"

"I have no memory of writing this."

Parry's crow of triumph echoed through his memories, startling a demonic kitten out of its cell.

"YES!"