The Pathfinders paid the entrance fee to the guards and walked into the densely packed town. Swarms of  lightly armoured mercenaries and adventurers bustled about the main road as hawkers tried to sell their wares creating an almost deafening noise.

Behind the travelling merchants, rows of impressive shops stood out displaying all manners of eye-catching products jousting for the attention of the adepts. Crimson armour fit for a warlord, enchanted dresses that would make the wearer the centre of attention and many magnificent weapons of varying quality and size decorated the shop windows.

The adepts were looking around with dumbstruck expressions on their faces which caused a few stealthy blows to their heads.

“Let's find the inn and some food before we head to the smithy, we arrived ahead of schedule” commanded captain Verz as she looked up at the sun.

“That's because someone forced us to sprint three-quarters of the way” grumbled the tall, skinny Pathfinder after he made sure Verz was out of earshot.

They left the main road and headed towards the west of the town where most of the inns, as well as establishments of dubious nature, were located before being lead into a run down looking inn called the Prancing Goblin.

When the twins saw the state of the inn they grimaced. They had been living in the forest for almost 2 years and we're looking forward to a nice comfort bed and maybe a private hot bath. Cold showers and springs got tedious very quickly, especially when you had to be wary of the male Pathfinders.

Upon entering a fat, balding man smiled and stood up slamming his fist to his chest in salute causing many of the occupants to look.

“Didn't expect to see you here until later Cap’” [Man]

“Got here earlier than expected. Food?” [Verz]

Taking a brief look around the room, most of the tables were full. There were two six tables, one next to the entrance and another towards the back of the inn.

“Sure take a seat and I’ll send out the grub, Roast Lethan today.” [Man]

“Oh and the recruits will need to wait a bit until the backlog goes down, I can make an exception for you but the regulars will get upset if kids cut the line.” [Man]

Nodding to the man Verz looked at the adapts and pointed to the table at the back of the inn before making her way to the one by the entrance followed by the other Pathfinders.

“Two silver on the twins, they have already attracted a fair bit of attention.” [Rock]

“Easy money, two on Bruce. He’s a little protective over them and loves a good scrap.” [Thin Pathfinder]

“A gold on Mors” replied Verz without concern as she took her seat. The other Pathfinders looked like they had been dunked in ice water. Verz had always ignored the traditional wager and despised betting so they were very confused.

Two elven waitresses brought over five plates and they started to eat in silence as the four kept giving each other glances hoping someone else would pluck up the courage to ask the captain why she had made a bet.

-”Come on Jim, I know you're dying to know why she has bet. Take one for the team.” Rock was looking to the skinny Pathfinder with a pleading expression but Jim expertly ignored it and starring down at his plate.

“I’ll also bet on Mors” [Jade]

Deciding to use Jade to draw the reason out of the captain without having to ask an actual question Rock took the initiative “Come on now, betting against the pup like that! You should have a little more faith in him.”

Jade knew what Rock wanted and had decided to lay a play him at his own game. She also wanted to know what Verz would do when she realised what Rock was implying with Mors nickname and this was by far the safest place to do it. Being inside a town where killing was prohibited Verz would only break a few bones… probably.

“This is Mors we are talking about, the walking natural disaster. Oh and why do you keep calling him pu….” [Jade]

*BANG!*

-”Dam” [Jade]

Rock inwardly sighed at the life-saving distraction, whoever it was, he owed them a huge favour. That crafty bitch had let slip her thoughts when they were drinking one night and, making sense to Rock he had subconsciously given the demon the nickname.

-”Bet she just wants to see how true her theory is” [Rock]

Turning around he looked into the corner where the noise originated and spotted Mors glaring down at a little blonde girl.

Without turning back Rock takes out two gold coins, sliding one each towards Verz and Jade.

“That pup could find trouble in an empty barrel.” [Rock]

==== Bruce ====

I lead my group to the table the captain pointed out and claimed the most spacious seat. As I am a bear beastkin I quite frankly need a fair bit of room so I don't knock things flying.

-"If the others want the best seat, we can just arm wrestle"

Alice and Claire take their seats to my left, backs to the wall so they can face the room while the elfs, Aron and Alec sat opposite. They looked like they had swallowed a bug. Training was 24 hours in the pathfinders and if you let your guard down, or presented an each target, you normally ended up in a lot of pain. Back to a room full of people was one of the least comfortable positions imaginable. Mors was already rocking on his chair in the corner trying to push himself further into the shadows.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

-”Why can't he just hid in the shadows like normal? Why did I have to get stuck with him in my party for the trial! I'd rather do it with both hands tied behind by back.” [Bruce]

Training kicking in, I give the room a quick scan and note entrances, exits and anything of importance. There are around 30 people sitting at other tables, all taking quietly taking a quick peek when they don't think we can see them.

“Guess even adept Pathfinders gather a fair bit of attention when they come to town.” [Blonde Girl]

-”Where the hell did she come from”

I had my guard up but still, I was unable to sense the three figures approaching me from behind. Giving a quick glance to the Captain I noticed she was watching us so there was nothing to worry about.

The one leading the trio was a young blonde girl who looked no older than 14, however, the two towering behind her wore heavy scale armour and looked very experienced.

-"Must be some noble"

“Don't you know it's rude not to offer an open seat to a young girl such as myself?” [Girl]

“We do not have room for your friends so I am afraid you are going to have to look elsewhere.” [Mors]

Shocked I turned to look at Mors who was still rocking on his chair as if he didn't have a care in the world. Recently Mors never spoke unless he was forced too, well apart when he was with the captain, so his sudden outburst was unexpected.

Unlike the rest of us who had removed our hoods when we sat down, just like he was told to, he was still wearing his. His eyes were closed giving him the impression that he was sleeping but anyone with eyes could see he was paying attention to everything.

-”There he goes with that creepy ability again”

“That's fine, they can stand.” gleefully replied the girl as she sat down in the empty seat and started telling us about herself in great detail. Apparently, her name was Ariel and was the youngest daughter of the duchess in charge of Flatner forest, technically our boss’s boss.

Ignoring the fact that Mors snorted when she called herself the youngest daughter she continued and then began to enquire about ourselves and why were here.

“My names Bruce, these two enchanting lambia are Alice and Claire” the twins give a slight nod. “And this is Aron and Alec. The grumpy one in the corner is Mors. We are adept Pathfinders here to claim our soul weapons and take the final initiation.”

After getting bored of asking about the Pathfinders only to be told “Confidential” and a few questions on our particular races she turned to face Mors who had not moved an inch this entire time.

“So what's your story Mr mysterious,” [Ariel]

“Work in progress,” [Mors]

==== Ariel ====

While sitting with my bodyguards eavesdropping on adventurers conversations to pass the time, a large cloaked group walked into the inn before being greeted by the owner. I think he called the lady Cap so she must be, or have been someone in the military.

“Pathfinders miss,” [Guard one]

Ahh, their outfits make sense now. I do remember seeing some documents on them and if I remember correctly they were pretty efficient in their role if a not a little... overzealous with their lifestyle.

I continue to watch as the group separate, sitting down at different tables. As they had piqued my interest, I decided to target the table with the weakest energy as it seems getting the juicy information from them will be much easier. The other group look like they would rather start a bloodbath than entertaining a guest.

After forcing my way onto their table I am sorely disappointed. They are so boring and average with little world experience. Anything that may be slightly interesting is met with the words “confidential” and then they seem more than happy to let the conversation die.

-"The documents said they were an unsocial bunch but this is ridiculous. Even the three guys are completely ignoring me."

Four, four guys. There's that one in the corner that I almost forgot about. He was pretty rude at the start but hasn't said a word since.

Giving him a quick once over I can't find much. His cloak's collar is done up making it so anything below his nose is covered and his hood masks his forehead. His pale white skin contrasts against his black cloak almost making him look like a corpse causing me to slightly shiver.

-”How intriguing, I wonder what his story is?”

“So what's your story Mr mysterious?”

“Work in progress” [Mors]

The response slightly amuses me. It's been a long time since I faced a challenge and I can feel my curiosity rising so I lower my head trying to get a better look inside the cloak.

“So what are you?”

“Complicated” [Mors]

Got to remember that one in the future.

“Are you a Pathfinder Adept”

“Nope travelling saint” [Mors]

Hmm well, that one was a let-down, guess he is out of good comebacks. Time to pull out the big guns and end this.

“Don't you think you're being a little mean to a young lady?”

“Don't you think lying about your age is a little immature” [Mors]

-”WHAT IN THE SEVEN HELL’S HOW DOES THIS LITTLE SHIT KNOW!”

Deciding that playing nice isn't working and needing to know how he figured out my identity, I change tactics and decide to enrage him. An angry man is a thoughtless man.

“Oh I see, you must be an orphan as obviously you didn't have parents to teach you any manners. I guess even the Pathfinders will take in strays like you. With no family and no possibility of ever being of any value to anyone or anything, it's an honour for you to be used as cannon fodder. Luckily no one will miss you.”

“...” [Mors]

Nope, nothing might as well keep going for it. It's not like if he would be stupid enough to attack me or that I would be in any danger if he did.

“I wonder if your parents are dead or if they just abandoned you. If it's the former they must be spinning in their graves and begging forgiveness to the mother of life, if the later they must be counting their blessings.”

==== Third person ====

The table fell silent as they stared at the girl in disbelief. Ariel had just slandered their unit and one of its adepts. If it was anyone else they would have immediately retaliated, violently however because she was the daughter of the Duchess they were forced to bite their tongues. They knew there was nothing they could do but before they could worry about that they would need to deal with Mors.

They all silently fidgeted as they prepared to intercept Mors if he were to suddenly attack Ariel. It wouldn't just be his head if she got harmed and the whole unit could be put in jeopardy.

Glancing at Mors, Bruce let out a regretful sigh. A small amount of dark smoke was spilling out from his eyelids and even though the cloak masked most of his face, he could tell that Mors was grinding his teeth.

-”Mors, loved by the goddess of calamity and misfortune... we are never going to pass the trial.” [Bruce]