The sun’s golden disk hung low in the sky, casting elongated shadows across the landscape as I trekked along the well-worn road leading to Avarria. With each step, I felt the rhythmic pull of the earth beneath my paws, the day’s weariness mingling with subdued anticipation for the city I had yet to experience. Avarria lay just beyond its protective stone walls, rising resplendent against the broad horizon, veiled in the mottled embrace of the encroaching dusk.

  Despite the hours of travel, my spirit remained buoyant, partially fueled by the satisfaction of my recent success. Over the journey, my surroundings had evolved from the rural expanses of richly cultivated fields to more structured pathways populated by clusters of travelers moving swiftly past, accompanied by the dulcet hum of conversation. I relished these quiet confines of humanity, observing the unique insights shared in fragmented overheard exchanges—a collage of everyday life stretching endlessly onward. It’s been a while since I’ve left Montressa. It’ll be nice to explore another city for a short while.

  As I approached Avarria’s tall gate, I marveled at the architectural prowess displayed in the intricately hewn stones. The dense wall stood like a beacon of security, much like Montressa’s imposing structures, not just for the city beyond but for the weary travelers who sought sanctuary within. An air of significance lingered as I neared, largely attributed to the congregation of guards manning the gate with attentive vigilance. I really hope there aren’t wanted signs for me here.

  A small queue of travelers snaked forward, each subjected to scrutiny by the guards. I joined the line, sensing a familiar rise in tension around me—an unspoken acknowledgment of mutual circumstances, despite our differing paths. My fox-like ears twitched, catching snippets of conversation and laughter as we inched closer to the entrance. As I drew closer, one pair was turned away; I watched them walk away with disappointed faces.

  Reaching the head of the line, I presented myself to the guards stationed at the gate—a pair of stout men clad in utilitarian armor embossed with Avarria’s emblem. Their visages seemed chiseled from stone—hard and unyielding. One, sporting a bushy mustache, eyed me with a mix of curiosity and suspicion.

  “What do we have here?” the mustachioed guard asked, squinting as if trying to ascertain my identity through sheer gaze alone. “A stray dog?” The whiskers above my right eye raised at the question.

  His companion, nursing a day-old stubble, leaned in conspiratorially. “Looks more like a small furry Kobold, or maybe just a peculiar fox.”

  I chuffed, the playful mischief in my fox-like demeanor bubbling to the surface. “I assure you,” I replied, my voice steady, “I'm neither a dog nor a Kobold. I’m Velrik, and I hail from… well, rather far away I guess. I’m here to conduct matters of business for the town of Orrano.”

  The guards exchanged incredulous glances, their demeanor a restrained mix of skepticism and amusement. It was clear that not many visitors of my stature—or my furred visage—had crossed their gates.

  “Well, Velrik from somewhere ‘rather far away,’” the mustachioed guard mused, “we don’t typically let lone animals, monstrosities, or the like through our gates—especially not ones that appear armored and ready for a fight.”

  “Monstrosity?” I tilted my head, feigning shock, my ears perked in playful cheer. “I assure you; I don’t bite—unless you’re able to procure me a good meal, preferably warm with plenty of meat.”

  This drew a hearty chuckle from the stubbled guard despite himself. “I like him,” he admitted with a clandestine grin. “But rules are rules.”

  Sensing their playful banter meant they were testing me rather than denying entry outright, I allowed myself a moment of contrived exasperation. “Surely if you let every suspicious fox stand at your gate, you’d truly be overwhelmed.” My voice carried a touch of mirth that I knew would catch their interest.

  Their attempts to maintain a disciplined front crumbled momentarily, replaced by a shared warmth. But duty prevailed as the mustachioed guard turned serious again. “We’re going to need to confirm your entry with our superior; you understand.”

  A command relayed down the line—a summons for a senior officer. I stood with patience, humor dancing across the periphery of my thoughts, aware that my uniqueness was both a curious challenge and an unassumed advantage.

  After a short, idle wait, a new figure appeared—a higher-ranking guard whose presence resonated authority. Sergeant Marius, tall and sturdy, approached with a glint of curiosity in his eyes. His face was a blend of kindness and sternness—a testament to the knowledge gained through experience.

  “What seems to be causing quite the stir?” Sergeant Marius asked, folding his arms as he scrutinized me with discerning intelligence.

  “Just trying to figure out exactly what we’re supposed to do in this situation, Sergeant,” the mustachioed guard replied, gesturing at me with an ambiguous shrug.

  Sergeant Marius, as another man referred to him, took a moment to observe, his gaze lingering over my furred ears and agile frame. “You’re not from Avarria, I take it?” he surmised with amused introspection.

  “Very observant,” I affirmed, nodding with a hint of mischief. “I’m a traveler—new to these parts. I merely require passage into the city.”

  “I see you’ve got a sense of humor, at least,” Sergeant Marius remarked, a thin smile gracing his lips as he looked down at me. “But let’s take this step by step. I’ll need to know more about why you’re here and where you’re lodging.”

  “The purpose of my visit is indeed business,” I stated earnestly. “I’ve been asked by Orrano’s mayor to secure help with a… pest issue. They provided me with funds to hire skilled hands.”

  The mention of Orrano piqued Sergeant Marius’ interest, causing him to weigh the implications deliberately. “Orrano, you say?” he pondered. “A short journey, nothing suspect,” he said while turning to look at the other two guards.

  I reached into my satchel, retrieving the leather pouch of coins and the letter of introduction gifted by the mayor. “Their trust was well-placed,” I declared, respectfully offering the letter for verification.

  After a careful inspection, Sergeant Marius returned it with a contemplative nod. “That’s satisfactorily legitimate, then.” Lowering his voice. “You’ll have no trouble here, as long as your intentions remain upright.”

  I felt my critics were thwarted by my playful demeanor and proof of purpose. “I’m sure I’ll manage to stay out of trouble. I always do.” A sly smirk grew along my face.

  Acknowledging my good nature and forthcoming demeanor, Sergeant Marius stepped aside, gesturing toward the open path beyond. “Welcome to Avarria. There’s much to see, and mind the evening rush. They can be unforgiving about space.”

  “Thank you, Sergeant,” I replied earnestly, my tone tinged with gratitude. “I appreciate your understanding.”

  I could hear multiple sighs of relief behind me as I walked forwards through the gate. I’m sure the other people waiting to enter weren’t as entertained by me as the guards were.

  With that, I proceeded with poised gratitude, the noise of Avarria gradually enfolding me like a gentle murmur, almost like the whisper of a long-lost friend. I had never been here before, but the atmosphere gently reminded me of Montressa.

  As I ventured forth into the city, Avarria’s teeming life unfolded before me in eloquent illustration. Buildings interwove seamlessly with the raw earth, creating an architectural dance that balanced heritage and innovation. In the imaginative chaos, street vendors and passersby converged beneath the vivid interplay of warming light and encroaching dark.

  Though the road to Avarria was short, the familiar scene of a large city seemed to comfort me after the journey. I felt at ease, invigorated by the symphony of modern society.

  Now amidst the bustling city of Avarria, I took a moment to orient myself amid the vibrant swirl of activity. The city's rhythm pulsed in all directions—a lively cacophony of vendors attempting to rid themselves of their wares, the thud and shuffle of feet across cobblestones, and an orchestra of city life unfolding beneath the ever-deepening hues of the sky.

  My tail flicked behind me, mixed with both curiosity and determination as I maneuvered through the street, my ears perked for interesting snippets of conversation drifting past. Townspeople and travelers alike coursed through the pathways, creating a river of endless potential.

  Seeking purpose amidst the crowd, I approached a man hawking roasting chestnuts from a nearby stall. The vendor, a middle-aged fellow with a warm visage kissed slightly by fire, glanced at me with intrigue as he leaned over his stand.

  “Evenin’, lad,” the vendor greeted, unsure if I could even respond, leaning slightly closer to catch my eye. “Something I can do for you? Care for some roasted nuts?”

  I offered a polite nod, my whiskers twitching with excitement. “Evening! I’m looking for an adventurers’ guild—a place where I might request assistance with a dangerous matter. And I suppose I’ll take some chestnuts too.”

  The vendor grinned, tossing a few chestnuts into the air and deftly catching them in a paper cone. “Sure enough, I know the place! Used to be an adventurer myself, until I took an awful strike to my knee. Still hurts to this day. It’s just up the way—take that next street, and it’s the big building to your right.”

  I dipped my head appreciatively and traded him a few coins as I took the roasted nuts, my tail swaying behind me in gratitude. “Thank you!”

  The vendor watched as my fox-like visage faded into the crowd. “Now that was odd,” I heard him mumble, a smile lingering on his face.

  Following the vendor’s directions, I threaded my way through the bustling streets. My keen eyes took in the myriad of stalls decked with vibrant slices of life—fabrics from distant lands, fruits nestled in woven baskets, and trinkets that gleamed even in the fading light. I dipped my hand into the paper cone again for another snack. These aren’t too bad.

  Reaching the adventurers’ guild, I paused momentarily, my fur catching in the breeze rippling through the cityscape. The building loomed ahead, its facade a tapestry of stone and timber—a testament to the guild’s prominent role within the city. The emblem of Avarria, a stylized crest featuring intertwined swords and sheaves of wheat, adorned the entrance.

  With a measured inhale, I pushed open the hefty wooden door, the sound of conversation and the scent of smoke and ale welcoming me in. Inside, the guild hall hummed with energy, a community hub radiating camaraderie and experienced determination.

  As I stepped inside, the room fell into a brief silence, a sea of curious gazes assessing the newcomer. My fur marked me as unfamiliar—even exotic—there were adventurers from several different races and nationalities gathered around tables, some eyes held amusement and some suspicion. There were rare races I had never laid eyes on before; a dark feathered Corvani, a towering Highlander, and even a scaled Dracari. Though I sensed the attention, I held my posture with confidence, my tail flicking with a hint of mischief befitting a seasoned rogue.

  Navigating toward the reception desk, I approached a woman with striking auburn hair, her fingers flying deftly over a ledger. She looked up and over the counter, her eyes met mine with a mix of amiable curiosity, a welcoming smile encouraging me to speak.

  “Evening,” I began, hopping lightly onto the tall counter with a graceful touch. “I’m here on behalf of Orrano, in need of assistance with a matter troubling the village.”

  The receptionist placed her quill aside, leaning slightly forward with interest. “I’m Liora,” she began, “and Orrano, you say? What sort of trouble are they facing?”

  I considered her astute gaze, my ears twitching thoughtfully. “A band of Kobolds has been raiding livestock. I captured one, but it claims a group of them are hidden in the nearby forest, causing a great deal of worry for the townsfolk.”

  A concerned look crossed Liora’s features as she made a note in her ledger. “How many were there, if this Kobold mentioned numbers?”

  “It wasn’t keen on giving precise numbers, I’m not even sure it could,” I admitted, my tail flicking in quiet contemplation. “But they’ve caused enough distress. Orrano’s mayor provided funds to secure seasoned assistance.”

  Her nod encouraged my confidence, her attention unwavering. “You hope to hire help by tomorrow morning?”

  “Yes,” I confirmed, my voice steady. “I plan to depart at first light, hopefully with aid secured.”

  Liora considered my earnestness, eyes narrowing slightly as she assessed me. “You seem quite composed for someone in your position.”

  I offered a slight smile, my whiskers twitching with amusement. “Well, a few surprises on the road lend polish to a fox’s demeanor.”

  She chuckled softly, her gaze warming as she glanced toward a cluster of adventurers seated at a nearby table, exchanging lively discourse. “There might be interest there now. If not, I can note your request and see who shows capability and willingness by morning.”

  Gratitude blossomed within me, and I offered a small bow, my ears dipping in polite acknowledgment. “Thank you, Liora. I look forward to seeing what fortune the guild provides.”

  “Not at all. A unique task from a unique individual often brings a hearty response,” she reassured, flashing a congenial grin as she returned to her work. “Rest easy for now; you’ve taken a step in the right direction.”

  With assurance secured, I took my leave from the reception. Navigating the hall, I surveyed the throng, inwardly marveling at the community spirit saturating the room. From daring tales traded in murmured exchanges to boisterous laughter erupting from clusters of comrades, it was an environment both disparate and unified.

  Reflecting on my village and the newfound role I had taken on, I found myself drawn to a chair nestled in the corner as I waited; tucked away yet perfectly positioned for unobtrusive people-watching—a skill I cherished both for understanding and amusement.

  The small bar on one side of the large room served as a focal point within the guild. The room hummed with the stories of hardship overcome, victories savored, and adversities faced head-on. For me, it ignited a familiar yearning for belonging—a notion dismissed among memories, feeling more like recognition than remorse.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  As the evening gently settled its cloak around Avarria, I departed, I would return the next morning to hire any potential help. Lanterns now dotted the descending dusk with an ethereal glow, the city sculpted by this luminous play of artistry.

  Navigating the thoroughfare, I felt very much like a glowing torch in the middle of an open field at night. My presence remained novel to the many animated faces in the ever-shifting cityscape. My movements flowed seamlessly beneath Avarria’s evening tide, my tail flicking gently and my ears rotating to catch the lively chatter that buzzed around me. I worse my hood down, so that I may take in as much of Avarria on my short visit as possible.

  As I neared a modest inn where I had chosen to spend the night, a faint tension eased from my shoulders, buoyed by the confidence that tomorrow would yield favorable results. The night matured softly around Avarria as I settled into my room at a modest inn I found, enveloped in the snug comfort the city lent.

  Drifting toward gentle slumber, I left the window slightly ajar so that I could hear the quiet notes of the city song—a grand orchestra floating on the night’s placid surface, marking both an end and a nascent beginning.

  With the night weaving around Avarria, drawing a quilt of moonlight and shadow, my consciousness ebbed toward peaceful dreams. The gentle whispers of airflow threading through the open window lulled me into restful sleep, just as they did in Montressa.

  The night drew on peacefully, and as darkness began to weave away its spell, the room stirred under the soft embrace of predawn light. I awoke, blinking my eyes open as morning's subtle glow filtered through the cracked window, tendrils of faint blue light casting soft patterns across the ceiling. The familiar sensation of quiet resolve greeted me—a call to purpose echoing within my mind.

  Stretching my limbs, I climbed out of bed, padding gracefully across the room. My fur, a testament to my unique heritage, puffed and matted slightly after a night’s rest, lending me a touch of wild charm that I found amusing yet uncomfortable.

  Reaching into my bag, I retrieved a trusty comb—a worn but cherished gift from Elisa. The memory of her warm smile flitted through my thoughts as I carefully brushed through my fur, smoothing and untangling it until it lay neat and comfortable. It was a ritual that anchored me to everything familiar amidst the growing unfamiliarity of this new world.

  Once I completed my grooming, I donned my well-fitted armor, feeling its reassuring weight hug my frame. I wrapped my cloak around myself—the dark green fabric blending into the backdrop of the city. It swirled behind me like an extension of the dawn, embracing the light as I moved.

  Satisfied with my preparations, I made my way downstairs. The inn below buzzed with the quiet hum of morning life—patrons commencing their day, exchanging gentle murmurs as they enjoyed their breakfasts.

  At a small table near the window, I savored a modest meal laid before me, relishing each bite of honeyed oats and fresh bread served with butter. Each taste revived me, deepening my sense of purpose. Thought he fare was well enough, it didn’t hold a light to the inviting tavern Old Milo ran at his Inn.

  As conversation hummed around me, my ears perked at scattered narratives—a traveler exchanging stories from distant realms, an old woodcarver discussing the intricacies of his craft, and fragments of dreams born from the city’s wayward travelers.

  Finishing my meal, I offered the innkeeper a nod of gratitude before stepping out into the fresh open air. Morning unfurled across Avarria, the city slowly brightening. The soft chatter of life echoed off the cobblestones, ringing out in the warm dawn breeze. Lanterns strung along the main streets still flickered with the last embers of their nightly vigil as I tread carefully, the sun’s anticipated rebirth aligning my strides with purpose.

  As I wandered through the waking city, I absorbed the ambient music of life—a vibrant mosaic both intimate and vast. A playful smile graced my lips, and my ears twitched with delight as I watched children dashing around corners, their laughter a beacon of earnest camaraderie. Their game was simple; a chaotic race to catch a friend crowned the king of the morn while on their way to their familial chores.

  Passing a dedicated baker hard at work, the rich scent of fresh bread reached me, stirring thoughts of another loaf for my journey back to Orrano. Though always cautious with expenses, I thought a treat for this new dawn felt warranted.

  Continuing through the winding streets of Avarria, I pondered my course. Taking in as much of the city as possible. As I neared the adventurers’ guild, the steady influx of adventurers mirrored a vibrant tapestry—a display of narratives colliding and intertwining within its walls.

  Pushing open the substantial door with both hands, I felt an invisible thread of connection weave me closer to this bustling hub of fate. The guild’s atmosphere spun a unique yet familiar harmony reminiscent of yesterday—a symphony composed of camaraderie, aligned interests, and the orchestration of diverse backgrounds.

  I navigated through the throng of voices and clinking armor, noticing familiar faces from the previous evening among the gathered assembly. With determination and purpose, I moved toward the reception desk where Liora was busy engaged with another guild member—a diligent display characteristic of the guild's secretary.

  As her attention shifted to me, Liora acknowledged my presence with a slight nod, whispering to her colleague, who was already eyeing me in confusion. She gestured for me to step forward, signaling her readiness to assist with my morning endeavor.

  “Good morning, Velrik,” she greeted, a warmth threading through her disposition. “I see you’re ready to head out.”

  “Good morning, Liora!” I replied, my eyes animated and focused. “Any word on interested parties for Orrano’s task? I’d like to return with assistance.”

  Turning to her neatly compiled ledger, Liora flipped through the pages deftly as she scanned the entries made by the guild members. “Quite a few inquiries came in after you left last night,” she reported. “Currently, there are three groups available with skills adept at handling Kobolds.”

  Hope surged within me as a flicker of excitement coursed through my thoughts. I noted the cadence of her words, soothing the edge of anxiousness pooling in my gut.

  Liora continued, explaining further details. “One is a trio specializing in forest tracking and beast handling. Another is a four-member team well-versed in mercenary work, versatile and focused.”

  Internally evaluating my choices, I weighed the balance between availability and expertise, my ear pivoting attentively while considering her feedback.

  “There’s also an opportunistic duo, skilled in traps and reconnaissance,” she added, her tone softening with amusement. “They seem rather eager to meet you, perhaps intrigued by the prospect of something unique.”

  I shifted my weight, my tail swishing slightly behind me as I contemplated my approach. “Can speak with each group?” I asked, my voice resonating with thoughtful inquiry. “I’d like to know more about them before making a decision.”

  Liora met my request with an understanding nod. “Absolutely,” she replied, marking the space before her with a delicate scribe of names in her ledger. “We’ll bring each group to you one by one.”

  As I settled at a nearby table within earshot of Liora’s calls, the surrounding adventurers granted me a respectful bubble of space. The guild operated like a well-oiled machine underpinned by camaraderie—a network of kinship offset by laughter and competition from those not summoned. I felt simultaneously a part of and apart from that inner circle—a nuanced bond formed of temporary alliances and shared pursuits.

  Liora addressed the room with a beckoning gesture. “My I have you attention, the trio skilled in forest tracking—Daliah, Oren, and Lira—please step forward.” Her voice, crisp and authoritative, stirred activity amid the sea of adventurers, drawing my first group from the conglomerate.

  Three figures emerged from the bustling throng, crossing the threshold with confident ease. They approached, their movements synchronized and poised—a testament to their shared history.

  “Velrik, I presume?” greeted a woman with striking chestnut hair, adorned with tiny talismans woven into her braids. I recognized one of them as a druidic charm. Her bright eyes introduced warmth and wisdom as she surveyed me. “I’m Daliah, and these are my companions, Oren and Lira.”

  I smiled and dipped my head in acknowledgment, already noting their synergy. “Pleasure to meet you. Tell me, what are your skills and experience with situations like the one in Orrano?”

  Daliah exchanged a knowing glance with her companions, then elaborated. “We’ve worked as a team in similar scenarios. Forests tend to conceal many secrets, and it’s crucial to understand how the land speaks to its inhabitants. I’m a druid myself, I am adept at reading the forests.”

  Oren, a broad-shouldered human man with a calm demeanor and eyes like tempered steel, chimed in. “With a keen read of tracks and trails, we can maneuver through forests quickly, almost like we belong to them. Time is of the essence in missions like this—we’re rangers through and through, well, Lira and I are.”

  Lira, noticeably younger but equally determined, added her perspective. “We’re all adept with bows and managing wilderness hazards. We’ve tackled many jobs like this before.”

  I considered their narrative, sensing notable strength in their understanding. It was clear they structured themselves as protectors of the woods and the secrets they enclosed. Impressed, I voiced my curiosity, wanting clarity. “Have you handled Kobold threats specifically?”

  “Absolutely,” Daliah nodded, conviction lining her words. “Kobolds, Goblins, and even some bandits.”

  Listening to their spirited affirmations, I appreciated their straightforward confidence, glad to have them as possibilities. Their rapport marked them as promising allies.

  Content with the exchange, I smiled graciously, my tail flicking dismissively despite my growing interest. “Thank you, Daliah. I’ll be making a decision after I speak to the other two groups.”

  They exited with unified nods, their connection evident in every coordinated stride. As they melded back into the guild’s animated throng, Liora summoned the next group.

  She cleared her throat, beckoning the next group forward. “Dorian, Seraphina, Kael, and Thom—the mercenary team. It’s your turn to meet Velrik.”

  Four adventurers separated from the crowd, their approach exuding a hardy confidence honed by the trials of countless campaigns. They carried themselves with the seasoned air of those who had faced dangers head-on and emerged not unscathed but weathered, like rocks repeatedly kissed by the tide. Their armor, more utilitarian than ornate, bore marks of wear, speaking volumes of past battles won and lost.

  Dorian, the evident leader and a dwarf, stepped forward with a nod of acknowledgment. Stout and muscular, his armor clinked softly with each movement, and a broad scar on his cheek lent his grizzled visage a permanent look of contemplation. “Heard there’s work to be done nearby. I’m Dorian.”

  I leaned slightly forward, ears angling toward the group. I met Dorian’s gaze with measured interest. “Yes, there’s a need for skilled hands in Orrano. Kobold trouble, in particular. What’s your team’s expertise?”

  Seraphina, an intense Lynxen woman clad in leather armor, stood out among the group, her sharp gaze indicating both warmth and focus. “We’ve handled marauding Kobolds before. Their kind can throw surprises, but we’ve got tricks of our own. I’m more of a scout in the wilds—or a rogue, if you prefer titles.”

  Something about this Lynxen felt familiar to me. Is it how she’s covered in fur and has animal-like ears as I do—no, it’s something else—I can worry about that later.

  Kael, a towering figure with a gentle demeanor and a shield strapped to his back, chimed in, his voice a deep rumble of steady assurance. “I keep the danger off my mates. Bit of a protector’s role, you could say. Nothing’s gotten past me yet that shouldn’t have.” This was the Highlander I saw yesterday, a large race from high in the mountains. Though this was my first time seeing one in person, I could understand he could be trusted.

  Thom, a halfling man and the shortest of the group with an agile presence, joined the conversation with lively energy. “I’m the wizard—illusionist, if we’re being precise, but I can hurl fire like any other spell caster out there. Used to make bullying bandits regret coming out from under their rocks. Kobold minds will snap like dry twigs.”

  I nodded, eager to absorb their accounts, noting their perceptive camaraderie. The diversity of their skill set was evident, and their unity resonated with the shared experiences they had amassed.

  “What draws you to this kind of work?” I asked, genuinely curious to understand what kept them amidst such a simple request.

  Dorian, exchanging a wry glance with his team, scratched his chin in deliberation. “Work’s honest enough. Protecting townsfolk is usually the least political it gets. And each job, no matter how small, sharpens us a bit more.”

  Seraphina added with a sly grin, “Plus, it keeps us out of trouble, mostly.”

  I chuckled, appreciating the genuine candor behind their words. As their conversation continued, I felt my posture relax, buoyed by their strong camaraderie and supportive energy—a sense of kinship that reminded me of my friends back in Montressa.

  When their meeting concluded, the mercenary group offered respectful nods and retreated back into the guild’s thrumming activity, exchanging gestures of familiarity with patrons they passed. I like them, maybe it’s just how close they are, or maybe it’s their casual speech.

  Liora’s voice cut through the melee again, beckoning the next group. “And now, Del and Maris—the duo. Velrik is ready for you.”

  Two figures stepped forth, a study in contrasts sharing the same dynamic air. Del, a wiry man with a keen-eyed focus, moved with a feline fluidity that hinted at well-honed agility. He sported an impish grin beneath tousled dark hair, paired with an easy confidence.

  Maris, his counterpart, carried herself with quiet intensity. Her cloak swirled majestically over midnight armor, while the deliberate precision of a well-disciplined mind shone through every gesture. She wore her auburn hair braided tightly along her temple, a signature of a warrior who respected neither constraint nor propriety.

  “Greetings,” Del began with an enthusiastic nod toward me, his grin bordering on infectious. “You’re the one with the great job offer. I’m Del, and this here is Maris. We’re eager to see if we can lend you our wits.”

  I met Del’s earnestness with a smile, my ears twitching in interest. “I’m looking for people who can handle Kobold trouble well and deal with whatever surprises they might bring. What are you capable of?”

  “I’m a trap mechanic,” Del explained, twirling a small contraption between his nimble fingers, watching my response with keen amusement. “I’ve turned many a Kobold’s sneaky plans upon their heads and some.”

  Maris joined in with a serene nod, her voice low but distinct. “I’m versed in plants, wilds, and the intricacies of poisons.”

  I considered them closely, enjoyment blooming at the contrast in their energies. “So, a mix of intellect and mischief?”

  Del chuckled, as though he’d heard the notion before. “That’s a tidy summary of us. We take unusual jobs, like sneaking into brigands’ camps and catching them in their own foul traps.”

  I nodded, intrigued by their skills. “What about surprises? Have you encountered any unexpected perils?”

  Del shook his head with a chuckle, the kind fondness that only comes from shared experience tying the group together. “More often than you’d think,” Maris chimed, “but we’ve got the means to turn foes’ advantages against them. It’s why we work together.”

  My tail flicked with interest at their lively banter, my smile hinting at both amusement and curiosity. “Sounds like you would be pretty useful.”

  Their camaraderie radiated energy and determination, enriching the conversation. When our exchanges concluded, I expressed my appreciation for their insights and dismissed them while I thought. My observations fashioned each group into distinct possibilities, each with strengths perceived and weaknesses noted.

  As the lively hum of the guild hall resumed its cadence around me, I sat quietly, allowing my thoughts to settle like the dust motes hanging in the air. Each group had presented unique skills and perspectives, but the nature of the task pulled my decision gently toward the team best equipped for versatility.

  After a moment, I turned to Liora, who awaited me with a patient gaze, her quill poised over the ledger. “Liora,” I called softly, a decision crystallizing within me. “Could you call back Dorian and his team? I’d like to hire them for the mission.”

  She nodded, her expression affirming my choice, and set off to summon the mercenary team.

  As I adjusted in my chair, I reflected on my decision—Dorian, Seraphina, Kael, and Thom's multifaceted abilities aligned seamlessly with the uncertainty of the challenge ahead. Their camaraderie echoed the kinship I held dear—a bond I’d found with my companions when faced with the trials of an unknown world.

  The group returned promptly, framed by their sturdy presence and offering hearty nods to me. It was as though they sensed the likelihood of my selection, assured by their confident demeanor.

  “Well, Velrik,” Dorian began, his energy brimming with eagerness. “Does this mean we’ve got the job?”

  I stood on my chair, smoothing my cloak as I met their collective gaze. “Yes, I think your group will be the right fit. The task in Orrano requires not just skill but adaptability and cohesion—something I can see in your team.”

  Seraphina smirked, her gloved hands resting on her hips. “Good choice—I promise we’ll make it worth your while.”

  With nods of acknowledgment from Thom and a subtle grin from Kael, I sensed a solidarity forged from shared intent.

  “I’d like to go over some details before we leave,” I continued. As they gathered around, the guild’s bustling noise faded to the background, replaced by the focus of our collective purpose.

  Dorian leaned in, his presence radiating unwavering efficiency. “Fair enough. What should we know?”

  I detailed the specific elements of the job—the Kobold raids and their primary forest camp, which I hoped to identify through our collaborative reconnaissance.

  “I’ve got a small collection of coins provided by Orrano’s mayor to ensure assistance is hired,” I elaborated. “It’ll be paid fairly once we accomplish what’s needed; depending on circumstances, they may be able to pay more.”

  Kael nodded approvingly, his attentive gaze offering silent confidence. “Funds are all well and good, but we’re here to ensure it’s handled right.”

  Seraphina watched me closely, her inquisitive eyes alive with intent. “We don’t know much about you, Velrik, despite your unique looks.” Her trail swished lazily behind her as she waited for a response.

  Anticipating their curiosity, I offered a candid account of my abilities without delving into the darker chapters of my past. “I’m a rogue by trade. Stealth, observation, and perhaps a dash of charm and guile are my allies,” I said, my whiskers twitching amusement. “I’ve traveled extensively but more than I would have liked. I’m sure we’ll have time to discuss more about ourselves on our short journey to Orrano, too.”

  Thom chuckled, enjoying the undercurrent of mystery woven into my words. “Sounds like you’ll fit in just fine.”

  Their decision cemented in a mutual exchange of earnest intent, and our group prepared for the journey. Once our preparations were complete, we rose together as a united front against the unknown challenges looming within Orrano.

  “We’re ready to head out now if you are,” Dorian concluded, a glint of determination sparking in his eyes. They had just returned after purchasing a few items from the guild.

  I inclined my head toward him with a knowing smile, anticipation coiling like spring as we gradually descended into the city’s embrace. Together, we would return strength to Orrano, armed with purpose. As the guild door closed behind me, I embraced the goal—a thrilling job, and one that didn’t involve politics.