There was one glaring problem in Hallvar’s life, and it was their talons. While they filed down the points into a manageable sharpness, the disuse of the talons for their intended purpose – grabbing prey – meant that each talon remained sharp and undulled by use.

Maybe Hallvar was being a little dramatic, as it had only been a few days, but still, they felt that this experience was entire unfair.

They were dissuaded from taking medieval hedge-clippers to the talons by the system, indicating that superficial changes to system-assigned bodily differences would revert after shapeshifting.

Now, that raised more questions than answers. Would haircuts revert? Tattoos? Injuries? No… it seemed that the system simply would not permit removal of the promised “permanent changes” associated with subclass choices.

Hallvar didn’t know if it was a percentage situation or pure reset at each shifting of shapes, but they knew they needed a daily talon-care regimen if they intended to remain mostly scratch-free.

Therefore, a to-do list emerged.

Hallvar had plenty of time now that the pressure of hiding from the King-Consort was relieved. They no longer had to skulk and sneak about, pretending to be something that they weren’t.

Not that the title of hero sat well with Hallvar. It would take years for hero to feel remotely okay in their mind. Still felt too noble for Hallvar, who was conveniently principled at best.

They scribbled a to-do list on a scrap of paper:

- caps for talons

- file for talons

- shirts + underclothes underwear?

- restock supplies

- pick up quest

Hrm. This seemed like work. Hallvar read over the list, feeling that it was mostly doable but required a lot of socialization. The quest was the weakest link; they could tackle that quickly by looking at the noticeboard.

Their going-out equipment was easy to don. It was mostly the pauldron and bracer for Pipkin, although they packed the sketchbook, travel pen, and ink just in case. Hallvar wanted to see if Stella was available to go to the market with them, however, she had a job to do, so the hero was prepared to sit and wait.

Entering the Guild, they felt… nervous. That was standard for Hallvar, who had a non-zero amount of anxiety at most moments. But it was mostly because they knew from Stella’s commentary that rumors were spreading about “the red-haired adventurer” as the missing 5th hero.

Rumor was not the right word, given that the information was almost entirely correct. It still made Hallvar nervous as a red-haired individual – nervous to be spotted and called out as this supposed hero. The idea that it was correct and justified was a pedantic afterthought.

Fates, what was it called? It was a strange sort of… of imposter syndrome.

Hallvar knew who they were, but they didn’t feel like a celebrity, not the kind of person who rumors were centralized around.

Yet…

“It’s Hallvar!”

That booming voice belonged to Grim, who nearly bounded over to greet the once-a-stranger with enthusiasm not unlike a happy canine.

Pipkin clung to Hallvar’s shoulder briefly, darting away down their arm as the big human rushed forward. As a small beast, she wasn’t thrilled by large beasts moving quickly toward her. Survival instincts and all.

While the akergryph quaa-quaa’d at the alleged threat, Hallvar greeted the man. “Grim, good to see you. I wanted to talk to you anyways.”

They remembered Grim being much bigger and taller than Hallvar was. Now… well, Grim was still massive, built like a brick shithouse, but he was only slightly taller than the hero. Was this always the case?

It seemed impossible to have physically grown in a manner that rivaled Grim – not without Stella mentioning it, at least – but maybe Hallvar grew psychologically, shedding the insecurity that came from being hunted and gaining much more than a blessing from the Queen.

Did they shrink into themselves before? Hunch a bit to look less imposing?

It did help that Pipkin rode on Hallvar’s shoulder. If they had poor posture, it threw the akergryph off balance and she let Hallvar know immediately when she was uncomfortable.

Grim slapped a hand onto the hero’s shoulder in greetings, holding on as he spoke to Hallvar. They weren’t used to the physicality of masculinity, although Hallvar wasn’t sure if that assessment rang true on Aestrux.

They weren’t used to Grim’s physicality. That was a correct statement.

“I heard you found trouble,” the adventurer began.

Hallvar was immediately grateful that Grim knew about their hero status, though he was only aware a few days earlier than the rest of the city, it seemed.

The hero sighed. “I would say trouble found me, but at this point I’m considering that I am probably made of trouble.”

“But you survived, with all your limbs intact! I don’t know that I could have done better.”

“99.5% intact, maybe 99.7%,” Hallvar answered drily. They glanced over at Stella, who was working with another adventurer, and was sad to see that she hadn’t caught their great joke.

Grim furrowed his brows, trying to make sense of the numbers until Hallvar held up their hand, displaying the missing finger as if showing off an engagement ring.

The adventurer patted Hallvar’s shoulder with sympathy. “It’s a good thing you are a beastmaster. That will affect your grip.”

This was their chance. “Speaking of, do— can I tag along with y’all on a quest? I need more experience working in groups, and it’s not like I can tame combative beasts without someone watching my back.”

Grim looked surprised, his eyebrows shooting upwards. “With us?”

The question was fragmented, not because Grim was incredulous at the adventurer’s presumptive request, but because this was a hero asking to effectively train with Grim and his party.

That was… Grimvold wouldn’t have dreamed of this scenario ever. Until the King-Consort made the choice to overstep his authority, Grim was convinced he wouldn’t see a single Amnasín hero in his lifetime, let alone be friends with one.

Hallvar started another polite explanation for the request, but Grim interrupted.

“Yes, of course you can join us. I will check with Ikraam, but I do not think they will mind.” Grim was grinning, happy to help the new adventurer as best he could.

“When are you thinking? Tyrus usually parties with us when he is in town, but I think he is in Fyrmann. You haven’t met our other members, but they’re back next week, so we could go then. Any quest type in mind?”

The sudden information was appreciated but it overwhelmed Hallvar with possibilities. They habitually went to scratch as they thought, narrowly avoiding a talon to the nose.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Grim eyed their talons but said nothing, waiting for Hallvar’s answer. He didn’t really care if the hero had odd features, unless they wanted to discuss it. Otherwise, it was none of Grim’s business.

He was from Brigavalé; you didn’t ask those types of invasive questions in Brigavalé, as the culture sowed good social soil for harbingers and soultraders alike.

“I don’t know what types there are, but I’m along for the ride, whatever is more effective for you all. I’ve only done fetch quests so far—” Hallvar paused, thinking about how that was a video game term and not an Aestrux term. “Uh, like getting plants and minerals.”

The larger adventurer stood with his arms crossed, clearly paying attention in an imposing stance. He was broad shouldered with a massive sword on his back; it was hard for Grim to not come off as intimidating.

Hallvar’s attention wandered for a brief, extremely embarrassing moment to their companion’s shoulders and arms, which were bare and on display and very muscular.

Bisexuality was a rollercoaster back in their old world; even if the term for it didn’t exist here, bisexuality still threw Hallvar for a loop, new body and soul.

“Are you looking for a beast?” Grim asked, oblivious to the hero’s internal struggles.

“I’m not hunting for a specific one,” Hallvar admitted, feeling like they should have a better plan than winging it with the assistance of an adventuring party. “But I’ll look as we go.”

Technically, Hallvar was looking for a specific beast – the qittakākom – but that was for curiosity’s sake. Their beastshaper subclass would allow them to pick the qitta without seeing it, as long as they read enough naturalist accounts on the beast.

“More than your akergryph?” Grim was grinning his shit-eating smile, gesturing with a finger toward Pipkin, whose tail was furiously flicking as she quietly assessed the big man.

Hallvar coaxed her into a better position on their bracer, holding her out for the armsbreaker to see. “This is Pipkin. I don’t know if she will have much combat use, but I think she will be useful for scouting – and companionship, of course.”

Wiggling his fingers at the creature, Grim chuckled. “I almost met her while you were away. She didn’t want to come talk to me, and Stella couldn’t convince her otherwise. She’s so small!”

“Yeah, I bought her on sale for being a menace. As you can see, not much as changed.”

Pipkin chirped her warning sounds and nipped in Grim’s direction. Her tail was poofed up, still alarmed by the big man’s presence.

But, given that she was a flying beast, she had full control over whether she wanted to be here or not. Pipkin was choosing to stay, which spelled good things for her and Grim’s camaraderie in the future.

The man gripped Hallvar’s shoulder once more. “I will let you know about the party, yes? But enough about that, how are you? How’s hero business going? Will you be moving to the castle?”

Ah, there it was. It was a new fact of their life, their hero status, much like the talons. They would simply have to adjust.

Hallvar coughed awkwardly, shifting their arm to let Pipkin move to her shoulder perch.

“Officially, I work for the Guild. With the Guild? I don’t know the semantics.” They shrugged, glancing over at Stella who was free now and smiled back.

“But it’s… going, I guess. They didn’t exactly bring us here with clear intent, so I’m going to continue to progress as an adventurer and call it a day.”

Grim lit up, his eyes bright at the good news. “You have freedom? I thought the Queen would conscript you for a few years.”

“Nah, I think Gryphon is doing that, out of his own choice, but since we weren’t summoned to stop a war or a dragon or whatever, there wasn’t a need to force us into the military.”

Hallvar didn’t explain about the King-Consort and his crimes, feeling that those were largely unnecessary details.

Sure, he attempted to coerce all the heroes into conscription, and consequently made most of them dislike the idea… but it was a time of peace so it didn’t matter how the choice happened, only that it happened.

Pipkin shifted on her perch and almost immediately Hallvar felt a touch on their arm. Stella joined them with a smile, her touch shifting to scratch the eager akergryph’s ears.

Grim glanced between the elf and the hero, deciding that if Hallvar really did join the party, then Grim could be nosy on one of the long journeys to a quest. Even if it was dreadfully obvious what was going on between Hallvar and Stella, it would be fun to tease the hero.

“Well, I have work to do,” he said with a finality that bordered on polite self-dismissal. “I know where to find you.”

After nodding at Hallvar – and giving Stella a theatrical flourish of a wave – Grim saw himself out.

The hero thought that was rather abrupt, but they were unclear if Hallvar chased him off or if it was simply poor timing. Regardless, they faced Stella, still smiling at them.

“Dropping in to see me or to take a quest?” she asked, her hand remaining on Hallvar’s arm.

“A little of both.” It was difficult not to embrace her, but she was in front of her coworkers and Hallvar didn’t know how she felt about public displays of affection. “Running into Grim was coincidence but now I need to kill time until after the week's end.”

Stella found herself frequently inferring the meaning of certain idioms that Hallvar said, as they weren’t common in Aestrux, if they existed at all.

“I didn’t hear your conversation – are you working with Grim?”

Hallvar sighed, running a hand over their hair. “Yes, though I think that will be good for me. Commander Rask gave me pointed criticism that I have only trained as a solo combatant, not in a party or group, which will definitely hinder me later.”

Yeah, the beastmaster needed to get used to working with both beasts and people. That required a new companion beast and finding a party.

Grim’s option could involve working in a [ territory ] which would broaden Hallvar’s potential vastly, as it would diversify their combat skills against new beasts and provide access to them.

It was hard to find the correct language for a world where ecology and biology did not exist as a cogent field of study. In essence, the native beasts of Amnasín were more developed for their ecological niches and adapted to living around human settlements.

While that did not make native beasts less dangerous, those beasts that spawned specifically from [ territories ] were often more destructive, more magical, and thus more dangerous, which was why quests appeared to cull the herd, so to speak.

[ territory ] beasts had no specific, well, territory to delineate how they behaved or to limit their spread. According to Hallvar’s books, the small to mid-size beasts usually stayed in their originating [ territory ], but large beasts would often wander outside of a [ territory ] in search of less competition.

It was kind of fascinating to Hallvar, who had to reorganize their conception of biodiversity and niche competition to accept in the System. All in all, the world’s flora and fauna seemed to be managed like a video game, where the System would spawn new, threatening beasts in [ territories ], which the System knew would cause a chain reaction.

New beasts wandering outside of [ territories ], threatened locals calling for help from the Adventurer’s Guild or from the cities who made requests on their behalf, and adventurers would respond to cull the beasts.

The materials of the beasts would enter the markets and spread far and wide, allowing for adventurers to gear up to fight stronger or different beasts. Then, tales of these strong, competent adventurers would incite young faces to join the Adventurer’s Guild.

Hallvar only had the naturalist’s accounts to assess the next point, but the System’s cleverness didn’t stop there. The death of large beasts at the hands of adventurers enriched the local environments, providing meat, bones, and a good supply of insects. The native beasts, who were occasionally intruded on by human settlements, were given different opportunities to adjust their diet.

Tawha wolves, while named after the canine, had a distinctly hyena-like profile with a squared head and massive jaws. They could certainly hunt, but Hallvar’s theory was that their development directly related to the leftovers from humans hunting large beasts.

It was fascinating. Hallvar wanted to discuss this with Stella but felt a bit awkward doing so, as it would easily slip from explanation into full infodumping. They thought maybe the eccentric necromancer would humor their discussion, however. It was worth trying their luck with both Stella and Rubert later on.

In the time Hallvar was rapid-fire thinking about ecology, Stella walked them both closer to the request board. Their quiet contemplation was assumed to be reading the requests, not being a nerd.

“Since you have less requirements for the request type—” She began, thinking about how Hallvar didn’t lack funds but also could fly. “—you can pick a quest based on interest rather than necessity.”

Stella pointed at a notice on the board. “This one, for example, is a delivery of a small parcel to a town in the north-western foothills. While it’s normally a week or more of a journey, I believe you could finish it much quicker, if the parcel is sized appropriately.”

The elf looked at Hallvar, trying to imply that their travel form would make this task easy without giving away the hero’s secrets to the Guild staff.

Predictably, Hallvar was slow on the uptake, but once they borrowed the paper request and matched the city name on one of the large maps, it clicked.

“Oh, yes. That could work. You did say that…” Hallvar paused and narrowed their eyes, attempting discretion. “That beast I was interested in might be in the Staargraven too.”

They held up the request. “I’ll take this then, but I’ll go tomorrow. Actually I—” Hallvar smiled, a little embarrassed, as they glanced over at Stella. “I was hoping you could go to the market with me after your work? Or you could meet me at the tea place when you’re done.”

Standing on her toes, Stella kissed the silly hero’s cheek. “I’m done in two hours. I’ll see you there.”

Oof, she was sweet.

Hallvar had a moment of nerves, and they glanced up at the Guild staff behind the counter, obviously watching. Rami had an amused glint in his eyes; Zarin gave Hallvar a big thumbs up.