“Oh my filly, oh my filly. Make your way without a dilly. To Maria, we shall be. Bringing adventurers, for all to see.” Valok sang. The band of party members, along with their songful driver, traveled north of Thrahnar until the villages of Filor. After resting at the hamlet, they rode west for three days before discovering the red road once again, southbound to Maria.

“You going to try and make some coin in the Sister City now?” Durge asked, stirring the campfire.

Valok was polishing his lute, “I’ve never had much fortune there compared to dwarven taverns but I’ll try. The tavern keepers at Thrahnar would hire us almost every night to settle the crowds and lead them out before they started breaking stools over each other’s noggins. Working dwarves like them would brawl ‘til the morn’sun without bards. Suppose someone realized ‘tis bad for business to have them slumped over drunk in their minecarts.”

“There’s a tavern we visit called Delicate Drink that gets lively enough at night, should be able to earn a few there,” Ryder suggested. “Don’t think we’ve seen a brawl there…yet.”

Scoundrel picked the fur out of his red-stained teeth, “Could try performing at the Hall, adventurers always love songs.”

“Oh! And you can acquire more material that way! They’re always telling tales of their quests,” Bell said.

“And have enough gold to tip a bard,” Dalon said.

Valok tilted his head and nodded along, gesturing that he might visit. But it took two more days of travel until they reached the city gates. As they arrived in the late evening, shops were closing, taverns were flowing, and inns were filling. The bard pulled his cart over in the surrounding grassy field of the Guild Hall. The adventurers groaned and stretched as they stepped from the carriage, thanking Valok as they exited.

“Will you be playing tonight?” Bell asked.

The dwarf shook his head, “Nay. I must rest and soak in the sound of the city, like a sponge in the Gulf of Gold.”

“Thanks again, dwarf. I’m glad to have experienced the Mid-Year with you,” Dalon said.

Valok smiled, “I’m glad to have seen a grin across your face, boy. May you fare well and tell me the tales of your future adventures one day!”

As they neared the entrance, Ryder pointed out a new sign planted near the door that read Take foot off the grass, you pay for the glass!, with red paint underlining it all. Ryder elbowed Durge before pressing open the heavy oak doors. It was hard for them to not immediately smile once the warm glow of the Guild Hall washed over them.

The clanks of goblets, the beating of the wood tables, the bellowing cheers, the cries of lost friends, and the unforgettable stench of sweat and alcohol filled the room. Durge was the first to go up to the familiar blonde-clerk, nose-deep in a ledger. He waited for her to notice him but she never looked up. As Ryder neared with the completion note in hand, Durge slapped his palms against the counter.

“Damn you!” Rose said, almost hitting him across the face with the hefty book. As she shivered off the startle and recognized the party, her eyes grew wide and a smile crawled across her face.

Ryder slid the note across the desk, “No failure today,” he said smugly.

Dalon rolled his eyes, “You recall who the party leader was, don’t you?”

Rose inspected the sealed envelope and read its contents, “Alrighty, I’ll be right back with the reward.” A wave of exhaustion passed through them all when she disappeared into the backrooms, the knowledge of knowing the journey was over and that they’ll be able to rest and recover made them sigh with relief.

“That’ll be 250 gold coins, split by five, for the retrieval of the Runic Axe of Morathira. Good work everyone!”

Scoundrel and Durge were the ones to immediately finger through the coin pouch and count the shimmering shines while Dalon went to go find a table to drink at.

“Uhm. We found this while we were out there,” Bell said, handing over Rylee’s dog tag. “If you have a map I’d be able to pinpoint where his body is.” Rose thanked her for the tag and information with a somber smile and presented to her an extra gold piece.

“It was the right thing to do,” Ryder said.

“That’s what we do this for, is it not? We accept quests to help those in need.” Bell took her pouch of gold and joined the men and beast at the table. With an armful of five large mugs of frothing ale, Durge set them down without spilling a drop… on the floor at least, most of it soaked into his tunic.

“Hey, Rose?”

“Yes, Mr. Lovell?”

“Tsk. Can I buy a dog tag for someone else? Bell smashed hers on our journey.”

“Well, she won’t be getting another talc dog if you fathom the fortune,” Rose winked. “But what about you two boys, don’t you want to get rid of old clay ones and present your true rank? Think of the history and stories you could reflect upon them!”

Ryder amused the recurring thought of him smoking from an ornate pipe and telling tales of his past adventures. I could be in a rocking chair and gaze upon the displayed chains of my previous ranks above my fireplace. “Mmm, Fine!” he gave her three gold from the pouch and went over to the rest of the party.

As Ryder sat down, Durge stood up with a mug raised. “For all the goblins who aren’t alive to see the sun!” After each statement the party cheered, as well as other iron-clad adventurers that sat near.

“For the gold that we acquired! And my 10th quest completed!” Scoundrel said.

“For the adventurers that came before us on this quest. May they rest in peace and joy in the forever lands,” Bell said.

“For my companions that forced me to smile and accompanied me on one of the most spectacular holidays I’ve ever experienced!” Dalon exclaimed.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“To another quest down and the rank-up of Bell!” Ryder cheered. The party was shocked but bellowed and hollered once they saw Rose give a smiling nod. Bell’s white robes could hardly hide her flushing face.

“You’re one of the copper mutts now, Iz!” Scoundrel jested. Bell rolled her eyes before putting her arms around both the beast and her brother. Rose stepped over to the celebrators with an arm full of leather-bound books and loose parchments.

“You’ll be receiving the official title and dog tags by tomorrow,” she said with a smile. As she took a few steps to the door she halted and turned toward the party. “Hey, Durge, we’ve been missing a tankard. Any ideas why that may be?”

Durge hid himself in the foam of his drink and shrugged. “No idea. I’ve been gone for the past three moons.”

“Funny, how it went missing around that same time,” she said with a glare before exiting the building.

Ryder shook his head, “Better not walk out with anymore, we have plenty of gold now.”

Durge waved him off, “Go fill my tankard, peasant.” The oaf slid his empty mug across the table. While Ryder stepped over to the scale-beast to have it refilled, a stranger came beside him. He was staring at him for what seemed like an eternity before he opened his mouth.

“Aren’t you the Potion-Giver?” the man asked.

Ryder gave a wry chuckle, “I am. I apologize, but I’m all out right now.”

The stranger slapped the side of Ryder’s arm as he laughed, “Oh, no worries about that. I noticed you just finished a quest. Since you can handle yourself and get shit done, how would you feel about going on another quest? I got one earlier today and I have one spot left for a party member, like yourself, to fill.”

Ryder looked over at the tipsy oaf, jolly and cheerful as he laughed with the rest of the party. “I apologize, but I can’t go unless my friend comes along.”

The man nodded and sucked his teeth. “Well… for all of us to make a profit when the gold is split I’d have to cut someone out.” He went over to his table full of crew members and pointed directly at a younger adventurer, “Kid! You’re cut! Potion-Giver and his friend are in.”

Ryder noticed that the furious adventurer wore a familiar white headband when he gritted his teeth against him and stormed out the Hall.

“We’ll be riding out the dawn after tomorrow. Rest up, buy your provisions, and be ready!” the party leader shouted to his crew.

Ryder returned to his table with two mugs of fresh ale. “Well, Durge, seems we are going on a quest overmorrow.”

Durge almost choked on his drink, “Only a day's rest!?”

“Enough to bathe, rest, and restock,” as Ryder spoke he forgot about the rest of the party that surrounded the table. “I’m so sorry! Do you all want to come along? I can try and get you all signed up as well!”

“It’s okay, Ryder. Bell and I planned on taking a break from questing for a time. Visit our folks in Fellaway, work somewhere that doesn’t involve being burnt alive, you know how it is,” Dalon smirked.

“What’ll you be doing now, Scoun?” Bell asked.

“Ohhh Iz, you know me well enough. Getting into mischief, scurrying around the town. Maybe go on another adventure or two to amass my horde of gold.”

Dalon laughed, “Like a dragon in the coin-presses of Harmony. When I yearn for the call to adventure and Bell isn’t stuck working in the temples, I’ll be sure to call upon you all as my companions once again!”

The party clanged their tankards for the final time, “Fare well out there, boys! I pray to see you all on our travels!” Bell chimed. With warm goodbyes, Dalon and Bell exited the Hall. As soon as the siblings left, Scoundrel scooted closer to Durge and Ryder, keeping his voice low to avoid eavesdroppers.

“Stay careful out there, plainskins. Remember to never trust a scavenger and run like the Abyss is trying to pull you under if a quest goes south,” he scratched six small lines into the decroded wood table and made a symbol that looked like the letter ‘s’ before vanishing from the establishment.

“Come on, Durge. Let’s see if Skel has any rooms left.”

“He better,” he belched.

As they opened the door to Dreadful Dreams, a figure was sitting on the worn leather chairs reading a book while the fireplace roared. The silhouette looked behind him and pulled down his tiny reading spectacles.

“I thought you two were rotting in a field by now. You’re lucky I have rooms available, but I expect something worth more than silver.”

“How about a palm-full of goblin jewels?” Ryder said, dropping the gems into the orc’s hand already.

Skel gruffed, “You know where the keys and storage trunk is.”

Familiar fur-lined beds were a much needed comfort for the adventurers. They doffed their stained outfits, grimey equipment, and beaten shoes and slept heavily through the night. Ryder didn’t even crack open his journal and Durge barely spoke a word to his slime-friend, he gave a petal from a flower he found on the ground and sat the vial on the nightstand.

The 27th of Firth arrived later than usual for Ryder and Durge. They slept until the midday, bathed in the Soaked Sponge bathhouse, and then went to Irid's after acquiring a skewer of charred vittles. They both tried their best to look presentable to the dwarven smith but it was hard to clean the month-old stains of goblin goo from their equipment.

As they entered the shop, Irid was standing behind the counter with a rag, a bucket, and a silent stern expression. He gestured for their weapons and armor and began to scrub. The brown ichor vanished more and more with every stroke of the rag. Once pristine and reflecting the orange sun, Ryder and Durge tried to reach for their gear but Irid slapped their hands away.

“Vinegar. Saltwater. Hardened hands. A recipe you now know. May you never return here again with such retch-inducing equipment. Now, how may I assist you?”

“We brought you these,” Durge said, dropping a handful of starstone onto the counter.

Irid covered the crystals with a cloth and set them aside, “I was hoping you’d gaze upon the wonders of Kraglor while you were near Thrahnar. I already have a pouch full of these but I’m forgewarmed by your thoughtfulness. Tell me of the axe you retrieved, it wasn’t desecrated by those filthy goblins, was it?”

Durge shook his head, “Not polished as much as you’d prefer but in fine condition to kill a few adventurers that came before us.”

“It was wielded by a hobgoblin!” Ryder added.

“Aye, but you put a stop to the vile chieftain, didn’t ya!” Irid said with a great grin. “I see your quiver is bare, boy. Fill her up!”

Ryder restocked 18 more red-fletched arrows into his quiver for 6 gold while Durge gave over half of his gold for the investment in armor.

“Aye, I’ve still been working on it, even if I thought you two would be dead in a drainage ditch somewhere. You still owe 1,975 gold.”

Ryder winced while Durge sighed. “I’d have to rob the damn banks to acquire that much anytime soon.”

Irid chuckled, “Don’t be spilling your ideas toward me, I needn’t want to have to be questioned by these mercenaries that roam the streets. I’ll find a way to finish it one way or another, once you don my masterwork every passerby will be throwing coins at you if you look at them! And then you shall give me the gold then.”

“Like a debt,” Ryder muttered.

“Precisely,” the dwarf said with a smirk. “Now run along if there’s no business to be had, and remember my recipe!” The muffled shouts of “vinegar, saltwater, and hardened hands!” were heard as the duo stepped outside. An orange sun awaited them that shone from the west, slowly sinking beyond the city's walls.

Durge and Ryder hastily visited the nearby stalls and shopkeeps for basic travel supplies and new clothing. Their coin purses were still full after a day of spending, they deliberated on the next quest over a plate of rice, fish, bell peppers, tomatoes, and sliced lenks at their favorite tavern.

Baird was delighted to see the two young men come back once again, the orc offered two free cups of “Bee Tears,” a sweet but basic concoction made of honey and milk.

“Did the man ever say what the quest was?” Durge asked with milk coating his upper lip.

“He did in fact not do so. There seemed to be over a dozen adventurers with him when he asked me to join, the quest shouldn’t be that bad, right?”

“Could be using us all as bait for a dragon. It’ll swoop down upon us while they pelt it with arrows and spells.”

Ryder scoffed and leaned back in his chair as his thoughts bombarded him, Could that really be the case? Only to be used as dragon feed while they slay the beast. They’d also be able to lay claim to our share of the gold reward. “Stop poisoning me with such ideas, oaf! Maybe it’s a succoring quest and we’re needed to escort a caravan to Melody!”

Durge shrugged, “Guess we shall see in the morning.”

“Indeed we shall,” Ryder said with a glare.