Vibrant smoke, mirrors and merriment, A carousel of lights and smells that assailed my senses with sweet sugar and caramel. The sights, the sounds, they drowned out all reason. A fragmented memory, a long march and finally, the cold.

I woke up with a snort and banged my elbow off the table. I winced and puckered my lips, if I swore now the guildmaster would yell at me again about using foul language when new recruits were around. Between tear filled eyes I wiped away sleep gunk that had built up and yawned.

“Willow, letter for you!” called a bright and cheerful woman.

I looked across the ale stained table and the spacious main hall of the guild house. At the main desk was a young, red haired woman named Morgan who bounced up and down to get my attention. I groaned and rubbed my ears, it was too early to be this loud.

I gathered my things and made my way to her, feeling my feet protest against the abuse they had suffered these past few days. I leaned against the wall and shook them out, cursing the cobbler who did a half assed job. The only thing the over-priced bastard had done right was seal them so water didn’t get in.

“Willow!” Morgan beamed, all sunshine and rainbows before the sun was even up. “It’s from the divination mage you hired.”

Now I was awake, and I crossed the distance in an instance. Morgan was a human woman of rather gifted proportions, and was a touch taller than I was. Of course I braced myself for the next moment as I reached out for the letter.

I forced on a smile and said. “Thanks Morgan, I-” 

I was cut off and smothered by Morgan hugging me tightly. The pressure on my chest caused me to let out a strangled cry and I fought to free myself. I used my slimmer, more agile body to wiggle out, freeing myself of Morgan’s grasp. 

I checked over my shoulder to make sure we were alone. I looked down to see my low cut elven cotton shirt and quilted armour was still holding onto my breasts. The classic ‘ranger’ garb of my people was stylish, great to show off with, but wasn’t what I called practical.

“Sorry Willow, I forget your kind of sensitive around that area,” Morgan giggled.

“No, I'm just making sure my clothes are where they are supposed to be. This shirt is one size too small and the ranger master is a cheapskate and won’t give me another uniform without me paying through the nose,” I growled trying to act tough.

Morgan walked me behind the counter to the back room so I could read in peace. The main hall of the guild house was dark, dingy and carried a bad smell. But Morgan’s office was the polar opposite. Warm, brightly lit with the morning sun and smelled of fresh home cooking. A long desk was set up with two chairs and two matching meals of pancakes, fruit and milk.

I took my regular seat across from Morgan and clasped my hands together in prayer. Morgan did the same and I couldn’t help but notice the rather fetching sundress she chose to wear today. A pressure at the back of my mind wanted me to comment on it, but I bit my tongue.

“Thank the many gods for this good fortune,” Morgan said reverently.

“Thank the gods for not letting me starve, yet,” I said sourly.

We ended our prayer with a clap and I dug into the pancakes. The only thing more sweet than Morgan was her pancakes, and I could wait until they filled me up. The sweet, sticky syrup stuck to the roof of my mouth and made me shiver with delight. I let the tough facade fade for a moment to hum happily to myself.

“Someone is in a good mood,” mused Morgan. When I nodded she pressed for more. “So are you going to tell me why you are working so hard to afford divination services? Looking for a special lover-”

“No,” I said firmly, with fierce flames dancing behind my eyes. “Listen Morgan…it's complicated. Let's just call it an elf thing, okay?”

Morgan let the subject drop and we continued a brief morning chat. It was the same drivel as always, the rookies hit on her, tried to take a quest out of their reach, and Morgan had to send the pros to save them. 

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“Is there really no one in Carrington that catches your eye?” I asked.

“I have particular tastes,” Morgan said. She slowly bit into an apple and let the juice run down the corner of her lips. Instinctively I reached out and wiped it away with a cloth and Morgan grinned. “Someone who makes sure I’m not too much of a mess.”

“Come on, look at me. I’m the biggest mess this side of Kellvon’s domain.” I ran my fingers through my blond coloured hair that ran just past my shoulders. My fingers caught snags, twigs and stones. “Can’t even keep my hair clean.”

Morgan took out her wand, and before I could protest flicked her wrist towards me. A dart of magic danced around my head, tossing out the debris and straightening my hair. Then Morgan took out a potion, dabbed a bit of liquid onto a cloth and ran it through my locks. I giggled and tried to wiggle out, but Morgan grappled me down to the ground and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Morgan at least buy me a drink first,” I said. I tried to wiggle out and for my troubles Morgan straddled my hips to hold me down. “Fine, do your worst.”

“I’ll have you looking fresher than a princess before her ball,” Morgan said, holding up her wand and potion.

I submitted to Morgan’s pampering and soon a brush entered the fray. At the end of the hour I was cleaner than I had been in weeks, and my hair sparkled like spun gold. I checked myself in her palm mirror and had to admit I was the best looking wood elf in town.

“Now can I get to reading my letter in peace?” I asked.

Morgan gave me an approving nod and moved to the counter to help some early rising guild members. I sat back down, shovelled the rest of breakfast into my gullet and cracked open the letter. What I found was less than desirable.

“Hogshit!” I swore, and winced when Morgan gave me a dirty look. I read over the letter again and couldn’t believe it. “...no signs of your family over the whole continent. Could be the work of skilled mages to keep them from being detected. Being detected? Isn’t that your job asshole.”

Another wizard that specialized in finding lost people, and another dead end. I checked my coin purse to find it startlingly empty. A measly silver coin with two copper brothers was all that was left to my name after drinks last night. I stood up, tightened my belt and slapped my tight fitting pants, it was time to get to work.

I thanked Morgan for the meal and sauntered back into the main room, lining up at the quest board. Ahead of me I could see three teams of new hires picking out what could be their first outing, and I thought maybe I could take them under my wing for an easy pay out.

“Hey, you're that chick that was dancing on the tables last night, right?” a human man asked me. He reeked of stale mead and his chain shirt was rusted beyond belief. From the lack of intelligence in his eyes, the crude axe at his hip and the slack jawed expression I knew what he was, a basic fighter. He gazed at my neck line with a lustful look and turned to whisper to his friend wearing a set of black robes. “Think she's easy as everyone says?”

My mood immediately soured. I wasn’t going to tie myself with a group, I was a free spirit and needed the space anyways. I didn’t reply, he probably didn’t know how easily I could hear him. The line continued to move up and I waited patiently for my turn. When the time was at hand I saw to my dismay the pickings were slim. A fetch quest, an escort quest and one to find herbs in the woods. Absolute waste of my talents.

“If she had a bit more ass on her I could see myself taking her home,” the robed man said to his warrior friend.

“Careful dude, those pointy ears can probably hear us breathe this far away,” a third man said joining the group. I saw in the corner of my eyes a set of lockpicks at his hip, a crossbow on his back and light armour. A rogue, the worst. “Besides, look at her old gear. She's probably just pretending to be an adventurer to try and find free meals.”

There was a small mirror beside the quest board, and over it said ‘You can do it!’ to encourage the guild members. But in the reflection I could see myself standing at the board and a group gathering behind me, commenting on my looks and what I wore. Their lecherous gazes bore into the back of my neck and I started to feel my face get hot.

“She’s blushing, careful she might be into this,” the black robed man laughed.

The men started to cackle like old hags and I had enough. I tore the fetch quest off the board and stomped towards the exit without looking at it. I’d show them, and when they failed on their own quest I could rub it into their faces.

“Fucking idiots,” I growled under my breath as I kicked the front doors open and stormed out into the city. 

Carrington as always was a busy trading city with trade routes heading in every direction. I had to dodge carts, caravan guards and pushy merchants to find my quiet place at the park. It was the only good thing about the city lord, he was an avid enjoyer of nature.

I made my way to the river and sat below my namesake, resting against the bark of the old tree. Its droopy branches swayed in the breeze and called to me, wondering what was wrong. I sighed, and kept it to myself, not wanting to trouble the trees today.

The quaint little park had hedges, flower gardens and walkways to lead people around its sights. The willow trees however were at the river's edge and out of the way, meaning I would be left in peace. I looked at the rushing water and saw a frog on a log bobbing along. I took out my unstrung longbow and offered it to the frog, letting him jump onto it, and pulled him to safety.

“There you go little friend, be on your way,” I said.

The thumb sized bright green frog let out a mighty croak and snatched a bloodbug out of the air. I nodded to the frog, his debt already paid back to me. I leaned back against the willow tree and finally checked my quest.

Fetch Quest - Find Heirloom.

An old bauble of sentimental value was stolen by thieves and sold to an unscrupulous merchant last month. When he was apprehended he claimed to have sold it to Rasha the bandit lord, and the guards tracked him down…

I skipped past all the boring stuff. It was a wooden bracelet with a jet gem and his family name Sora engraved in it. He had paid a team to find out it was eventually stolen by goblins, hidden in one of their stashes, and then they were killed by an adventuring team. Something else had holed up in their lair and he wanted it found. Finally, the reward was ten gold coins.

I whistled out long and loud. “Damn, he must really want this. I could probably coast for a month on that, easy. Still, what would move into a goblin lair?”

I tugged at my hair in deep thought. The only thing wanting to live in a trashed refuse pile were goblins, slimes and beasts. If it was an animal I could probably talk it out, give it a few berries and be on my way. If not all I would need is a mild sedative. There could also be more goblins, which I could dispatch with ease. 

“Willow, you magnificent bastard, you finally got an easy mark,” I giggled to myself.