I stirred to the sound of someone hammering the front door of the house in the early pale hours of a new day. I reflexively confirmed the whereabouts of my dagger, before my waking consciousness convinced me it made no sense anyone could be here for me. After all, no one beside old Mrs Rheynes even knew where I stayed.

Vera appeared to be already up, as the banging shortly stopped, replaced by muffled sounds of a conversation. Just how early did my landlady rise, or had she slept at all? She might have had the makings of a good maid. I couldn't make out a word of what was said, only that the visitor was a man and in a great hurry. Then the noisemaker's presence drifted away, the door closed, and silence returned, momentarily, before footsteps sounded on the staircase. Not long after, knuckles met my door, not too loudly, so as to not rouse the sleeping child.

Pretending to be still dreaming was a meaningless waste of effort, so I got off the bed and went to open the door, only slightly, reluctant to be witnessed in my nightwear even in off-duty hours.

“Yes?”

Vera’s comely face was grave.

“Someone from the Guild came by. There’s a bit of a situation over there and they want all the hands they can get, adventurer or otherwise. Can you come now?”

Though she phrased it politely enough, her tone made it clear this was not a laughing matter and declining against better judgment.

“I shall be down in a minute,” I answered and closed the door to get changed.

An unpleasant premonition gnawed at me inside.

All the hands they could get…That suggested there were going be a lot of mixed people present at the bureau. Perhaps people affiliated with the King and his retainers. It was a stark breach of the dress code, but I left the headpiece and the apron. Their designs were too eyecatching. The black dress alone was not as attention-hogging, even if overly formal. It ought to have been fine if I put the cloak over it.

I felt borderline naked without the garnish, but it was about the best I could do in terms of disguise. Deeming myself ready, I went downstairs, where Vera awaited me, already in her Guild attire, and we stepped out together into the foggy June twilight. It was between four and five as the clock would say. We walked as quickly as we could without outright running through the still-slumbering town to the bureau. Despite the premature timing, the front door was propped wide open.

We went in and found the hall, as expected, quite packed. Never before in my time in Faulsen had I seen the Guild this populated. The clerks and assistants had gone around to gather every registered member or otherwise competent figure they knew within running distance, it seemed.

“Catch you later,” Vera whispered to me and slipped away to join the other employees. They were all, new and old, lined up in the back of the hall, looking mysteriously formal and serious. I was left stranded in the miscellaneous crowd restlessly shuffling in waiting, and hoped nobody found me too out of place. But most of the locals had already grown used to my looks over the past month and paid me no special attention.

Right as I began to quietly question what we were waiting for, a middle-aged man came down the stairs from the second floor.

He stopped at the lowest landing before the floor and faced the mob. I hadn’t seen the man before. He was of average height, not too impressive-looking, his balding hair dark and cut short, a dark stubble veiling his coarsely textured, flabby face. He was dressed in a dark overcoat, and on a large chain around his neck hung a gilded plaque, by which he could be easily identified.

There was the local Guildmaster of whom I’d heard so many less than flattering mentions over the weeks; the man who had earned Mr Klaus’s animosity in the past, and indirectly assisted in the ruin of Vera and Norn’s family, and who knew how many others.

Kenneth Braghin.

“Hear me, hear me!” the man called out and raised his hands, gesturing for peace. “Give me silence! Upon a formal request by Jarl Fossler, the Lord of Faulsen, the Adventurer’s Guild hereby opens a community quest to members of all ranks! You will move from here to the gates of Baloria, where you will be directed to your stations, based on your talents. Those with knowledge of medicine and first aid, please follow Mistress Ridia, our herbalist! Those who own their personal arms, go with Master Breton and go with haste! The rest of you, follow Master Rigel and his instructions. This is not a paid commission, but report back here after you are relieved from your duties, and you will have an E-rank task marked on your record, with a note of good service. Those of you not registered with the Guild, come see me later, and we'll discuss compensation privately.”

The audience already began to inhale, poised to shower Guildmaster Braghin with a multitude of questions, but he was faster than their voices.

“Ask not anything of me now!” he shouted over them. “There is no time. Everything you need to know will be explained to you at the destination. What you don’t need to know, shall have to remain a mystery. All I can tell you is that this is a very delicate matter of utmost urgency, and I must ask you to maintain total secrecy regarding anything you may or may not see up there, and not share it with a soul in town! You are bound by an oath of confidentiality in this place, and the Guild may penalize those who break it! Now go! Follow the people I pointed out for you!”

The Guildmaster didn't linger but returned upstairs, away from the faces and handns seeking his attention.

The crowd swallowed their questions and complaints with visible reluctance and turned to do as asked, now that they were there, roused from their rest. I was probably not the only one to notice how no word of voluntarity was mentioned, despite the lack of payment. How could it be voluntary when you didn’t even know what you were agreeing to? The assignment went against the Guild code in more ways than one, but perhaps we could excuse the Guildmaster in light of the evident emergency at hand?

I turned and took a step to go and came across a very confused hauflin spinning around, lost in the sea of people nearly twice her height.

It appeared they had even dragged Master Vivian here. A most excellent timing.

“This way, if you will,” I told the alchemist and guided her by the collar in the same direction I was headed myself.

“Hue—!?” Master Vivian shrieked, not noticing me before I was right beside her, taking her on. Her line of sight followed the arm gripping her up to its owner.

“It’s you! The crazy maid!”

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

“I don't deny to being a maid, but my mind is by no means off the track.”

“Then can you not hold me like a stray cat! I'm a reputable person not deserving of such treatment! Let me go! What in the world is going on here!”

“Please bear with it. If I let go, this flood of people is sure to wash you away in no time. But I have a feeling we’ll have a need of your services yet.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

In due time.

I had my own weapons, perhaps, but no intention to join the rough-looking crew gathering around the senior adventurer named Breton by the entrance. Half of my potential in combat came from the fact that no one knew I had any, and I wished to keep it that way. Instead, I set out to seek Mrs Ridia, previously pointed out to stand by the east side wall. Her looks were familiar to me, having visited her shop on a multiple of occasions in the role of a customer. She had also been the commissioner of many of the bundles of flowers and herbs I had gathered along the spring season.

Mrs Ridia was an older woman in her forties, or a bit over; a tall, thin, archetypal indoors worker with tired, dark-ringed eyes, her bony figure wrapped in a worn robe the color of the eggplant. A group of less than a dozen others had formed around that flamingo of a woman, most of them gatherers, and mostly female. Medicine and treating the bodies of strangers was not among the fields men took much interest in, going by personal observation.

Mrs Ridia eyed me cautiously as I came over with a hauflin in hand.

“Yes…?” she asked. “What is it?”

“Good morning,” I said. One mustn't forget her manners, even in an emergency. “I have some knowledge of first aid and administering medicine. Allow me to accompany you.”

“Eh?” Apparently, it hadn’t occurred to her I was there to help and she received the news with visible surprise.

I put the hauflin forward. “Also, I have here Master Townsend, who is a proficient alchemist, as you may know.”

“Oh,” Mrs Ridia regarded Master Vivian with a grandmotherly smile. “You’re that small lady who often comes by to play with our Nessie.”

“I’m not a child!” Master Vivian protested, increasingly more agitated. “And I've carried more than my weight of copper into your store! At least remember my name!”

Aside from Mrs Ridia stood a plain girl a year or two younger than myself, carrying a small, rectangular box, white-painted, a leather strap hooked to it, to bear over the shoulder. I noted that like Mrs Ridia, she didn’t have the Guild tags.

“Pardon me, but might I know who you are?” I asked her.

“Huh? Me?” The girl blinked. It took her a moment to register my words as a question. “I’m Ellie? From Ham’s.”

She intoned it as though it were common knowledge. I lacked that knowledge, though, and asked, “Should I know who or what is Ham?”

“You should!” Ellie informed me, growing visibly irate. “He’s the only real healer in town! Hammond! Hammond Garlick! Also known as my father! I’m an apprentice at his clinic. Who are you?”

I disregarded the question.

“Do you have bandage?” I asked, nodding at the familiar medical case.

“Hello? I asked you a question!”

I ignored her again. “Do you know any healing magic? Does your father?”

“No, we’re not clerics!” Ellie replied, her brows knitting.

Unfortunately, there was no time to repair her poor first impression of me. I was more bothered by how small her case was.

“Is that all the supplies you have brought? Do you have more at the clinic?”

“I only brought my personal wares. I do have bandage, and splints. What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Is your clinic close by? Could you please go and retrieve an additional case. As much as you can comfortably carry. We’ll wait for you at the town gate.”

Ellie looked like she had more arguments to give, but I, following the Guildmaster’s example, didn’t wait to hear it, but turned instead back to Mrs Ridia. The herbalist was equipped with two bulging leather bags of her own.

“Mrs Ridia, I assume you were told to bring medicine?” I said. “May I inquire as to your choices?”

“W-well,” the woman began to nervously shuffle through her bags, which were clinking with tight-packed jars and vials, “I wasn’t sure what was needed, precisely, so I brought a bit of everything. I have common antidote for poisons, ethanol and laseryn to disinfect, echinacea extract to staunch bleeding, faeverin for reducing fever, gingold to alleviate bodily fatigue, valerian to induce sleep…”

She seemed more like an alchemist than the alchemist. But I quickly raised a hand to interrupt.

“Please unpack and leave everything but the ethanol, echinacea, and faeverin here. The others are not vital. The Guild will keep them safe for you. The path up to the dungeon gate is toilsome, and we must travel with haste.”

Mrs Ridia looked appalled beyond words. “Why, I wouldn’t…”

No longer listening, I turned again to the hauflin.

“Master Vivian, I cannot help but note that you aren’t carrying anything.”

“No?” She shrugged. “Why would I be? Nobody told me to bring anything but myself.”

Presumably, because nobody knew what she had.

“And what would we, pray tell, do with only your great self?”

“Not my headache, is it? People really ought to be more precise with their instructions, and—”

“—I would ask you now to go and retrieve all the commonplace potions you have in stock that restore magical power and promote regeneration, with as much haste as you can muster. The others can help you carry them. Such items should be prioritized over anything else.”

She looked outraged by the suggestion. “My whole stock!? Why? Whatever for? You best be joking! Who’s going to pay for all that, anyway? You?”

“Nonsense. I don’t have that kind of money. You can bill the Guild if it pleases you and believe they have any intention to pay. If you don’t want to, you can go home. I shall not hold you. However, unless I am sorely mistaken, what we have in our hands is a matter of life and death. Do you think your conscience will forgive inaction afterward? If you may forgive me for being presumptuous, most people with position as valuable as yours would probably regret sitting out. I would also venture to guess that even if no one else rewarded your sacrifice today, the King would not forget it. And it would not be a bad idea, in this day and age, to have royalty in your debt.”

“The King?” Master Vivian frowned hard at me. “What are you talking about? What’s going on here!? Do you know something I don’t?”

“Not at all,” I answered. “But it is not that difficult to speculate, given the circumstances. It has been three days since the King of Argento entered the dungeon with his people. And now we have a sensitive sort of emergency unfolding in that very place, requiring both nursing and swords. I would say the need for salve comes rather evident by these facts alone. Now, I am told time is of the essence. We will go as soon as the three of you are set.”