The first light of dawn filtered through the narrow streets of Ravenspire as Felix set out from the Black Briar Inn, the cobblestone pathways still wet with morning dew. His night at the inn had been restless yet satisfying; he’d made his way into Ravenspire, earned a bit of silver, and secured a warm place to sleep. Now, his mind buzzed with anticipation as he set off for the guild district, determined to find his next steps in this bustling new world.

As Felix walked, he observed the city waking up around him. Vendors were setting up stalls, shopkeepers swept their storefronts, and a few early risers were already going about their business. The stone buildings grew taller and more imposing as he neared the guild quarter, each structure marked by banners or carvings displaying the symbols of its specialty: weapons, magic, scouting, alchemy, and more. He took it all in, feeling the pull of something both daunting and exhilarating—a promise that Ravenspire held endless possibilities.

The Adventurer’s Guild stood out from the other guilds, a large, battered sign above its doors and the unmistakable hum of activity within. This was the place Felix had heard so much about—the place where fighters, mages, and scouts gathered, took on quests, and tested their skills.

Inside, the hall was alive with energy. Adventurers filled the space, clustered around notice boards or sharing tales over hearty breakfasts. Felix felt both awe and excitement as he looked around; he was no stranger to hard work, but he hadn’t anticipated the sheer intensity of the guild.

“Lost, are you?”

A gruff voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Felix turned to see a tall, broad-shouldered man with a scar across his cheek. The man’s gear was worn but well-maintained, a long sword strapped across his back. He looked Felix up and down with a measuring gaze.

“Name’s Braxton,” the man said. “If you’re here to work, start at the boards over there. Take on a low-rank quest, something simple to get your bearings. Prove yourself before biting off more than you can chew.”

Felix nodded, appreciating the straightforward advice. “Thanks. I’m Felix—just arrived yesterday.”

Braxton’s lips curved in what might’ve been a smirk. “New blood, then. Good luck. Ravenspire doesn’t go easy on the reckless.”

With that, Braxton moved on, leaving Felix to study the boards. The listings were a mix of tasks—escort duties, pest control, and requests to deal with low-level creatures on the town’s outskirts. Felix scanned the postings, looking for something he could handle.

As Felix reached for a notice about a goblin subjugation quest, a cheerful voice broke through the noise. “New here, aren’t you?”

Felix turned to find a young woman about his age, her brown hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. Her grin was easy and confident, and her eyes held a spark of curiosity. “I’m Lyra,” she said, extending a hand. “E-Rank scout. You look like you’re fresh off the road.”

“Felix,” he replied, shaking her hand. “Just got here, yeah. Any advice for someone starting out?”

Lyra chuckled, glancing over the job board. “Plenty, but most of it you’ll learn by trial and error. Stick to pest control for now—goblins, critters near the east fields. It’s not glamorous, but it’ll keep you alive long enough to pick up a few skills.”

Felix smiled, appreciating her honesty. “I’ll take any help I can get. Thanks.”

She looked him over again, assessing. “You’ve got the right attitude. Most new recruits try to prove something right away and end up as a warning story. You take that goblin job, and maybe I’ll see you on the training grounds later—if you’re serious about learning.”

With a friendly wave, Lyra disappeared into the crowd, leaving Felix to consider her words. He felt a sense of reassurance as he watched her go. In a town as intense as Ravenspire, a few allies could go a long way.

After accepting the goblin subjugation quest, Felix made his way to the training grounds, eager to see what he could learn. The grounds were spacious, with separate areas for sparring, archery, and magical practice. Adventurers of all ranks filled the space, some training alone, others sparring in pairs or groups.

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A guild trainer, a solidly-built man with a serious expression, approached Felix, eyeing him up and down. “You’re the new recruit, aren’t you?” he asked. Felix nodded, and the trainer’s expression softened slightly. “Good. If you’re here to work, you need to be able to handle yourself. Basic sparring first. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Felix took a steadying breath, gripping his staff as he squared off against the trainer, who wielded a blunt training sword. Felix’s heart pounded with anticipation and nerves, but he focused on what he’d learned from Oswin, keeping his stance steady.

The trainer moved first, his strike quick and precise. Felix barely managed to block, his grip tightening as he adjusted his stance. The trainer’s gaze sharpened. “Good reflexes. But don’t just react—control the fight. Anticipate.”

Felix nodded, taking the advice to heart. He felt the familiar warmth of mana pulsing within him and let it guide his movements. When the trainer struck again, Felix sidestepped, using his momentum to swing his staff in a controlled arc that connected with the trainer’s arm.

A small smile tugged at the trainer’s lips. “Not bad. Keep working on it—you’ll need more than luck to survive here.”

They sparred for several more minutes, the trainer pushing Felix to his limits with swift, unrelenting strikes. By the end, Felix was panting, his muscles aching, but he felt a thrill of accomplishment. He’d held his own, if only barely.

The trainer nodded in approval. “You’ve got potential. Just remember: control, patience, and discipline. Those are your greatest tools out there.”

After his training, Felix returned to the guild hall to officially confirm his quest. The receptionist, a middle-aged woman with a no-nonsense expression, looked over his notice and nodded. “Goblin subjugation, eastern fields,” she said, her tone brisk. “Should be straightforward, but stay alert. Goblins might seem like pests, but they’re crafty in groups.”

Felix nodded, grateful for her advice. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

With his mission approved, Felix set off toward the eastern fields. The path took him through a stretch of forest before opening up into wild terrain. The air was thick with the scent of grass and earth, and Felix felt his senses sharpening as he scanned the surroundings, alert for movement.

Felix didn’t have to wait long before spotting movement in the underbrush—a group of goblins, their twisted forms skulking through the tall grass. Their hunched, wiry bodies were covered in patchy fur, and their small, yellow eyes glinted with malice. The goblins bared their sharp, stained teeth, snarling as they sized up their prey.

Felix tightened his grip on his staff, feeling the hum of mana pulse through his hands, but he kept his breath steady, watching their every move. He’d heard tales of goblins—fast, nasty creatures with a pack mentality—and he knew he’d need more than basic training to get out of this unscathed.

The first goblin lunged, letting out a guttural shriek. Felix sidestepped, swinging his staff in a controlled arc. The wood cracked against the creature’s side, sending it sprawling into the dirt. But there was no time to relish the moment; two more goblins charged, their filthy, jagged blades glinting in the sunlight.

One of the goblins managed to swipe at his shoulder, slicing through his shirt and leaving a stinging cut. Felix hissed in pain, his focus sharpening. He blocked another strike, shifting his weight to deliver a swift jab to the goblin’s gut, but the creature barely flinched, its gaze fixed on him with a rabid fury.

These goblins weren’t here to scare him—they were out for blood.

Another goblin lunged at him from the side, claws outstretched. Felix barely ducked in time, feeling the rush of air as the creature’s claws grazed his hair. He countered with a hard swing, aiming for its knee, and felt a surge of satisfaction as the goblin stumbled, shrieking in pain.

But even as it fell, two more appeared, their snarls growing louder, more frenzied. Felix’s heart pounded as he braced himself. He wasn’t sure how long he could keep this up.

“Come on, then!” he shouted, more to steel himself than anything. Sweat dripped down his face, his muscles aching with the effort of holding his ground.

One goblin leaped at him, blade poised for a killing blow. Felix swung his staff in a desperate arc, catching the goblin mid-leap and sending it crashing to the ground. Another goblin followed close behind, its teeth bared, and Felix barely had time to block its attack. Their strength was unnatural; each strike felt like it could break his guard at any moment.

Just as he blocked one blade, a second goblin lashed out, its knife slicing across his forearm. Felix cursed, the pain sharp and immediate, but he didn’t let it slow him down. He spun his staff, knocking the creature back and using the momentum to strike another goblin in the ribs, hearing a satisfying crunch as it stumbled backward, gasping for air.

One by one, he wore them down, his strikes growing fiercer with each goblin he took down. His arms ached, and his vision blurred with sweat, but he kept moving, kept fighting, using every ounce of strength he had.

When the last goblin finally fell, he was breathing hard, his limbs heavy, and his clothes torn and blood-stained. The field was littered with the bodies of goblins, their snarling faces now frozen in lifeless grimaces.

Felix took a shaky breath, a fierce satisfaction rising within him. He’d survived. And for the first time, he felt the thrill of what it meant to be an adventurer.