*badump*

Something… felt strange.

*badump*

He saw… a small child, held in a woman’s arms.

*badump*

Then, he saw the woman crying, dark spots forming on her body.

*badump*

He saw her buried. What… is going on?

*badump*

A tall man, hanging in the home. He looked down, and was covering the eyes of an extremely young girl. She was crying. It… hurt?

*badump*

He just escaped from a man who was chasing him. He was on a street with the little girl. He could hear her stomach growl. He was hungry too, however, he opened a wrapper stashed in his shirt and gave her his only piece of bread. Why… why would I do that?

*badump*

“… thistle”

“HEY THISTLEMAN!”

Thistleman’s eyes snapped back open.

“Good, you’re awake again. You had me worried, spacing out like that!” Diane chided him, with a concerned expression on her face.

“Ah, well, uhm… I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to upset you…”

Thistleman wasn’t wholly sure what just happened, but he was certain that those memories were not his. Something strange must have happened when he swallowed the locket, as he was fairly certain the people in the dream looked like those in the picture.

“Its fine, don’t worry about it. We are about to reach the gate, so just follow my lead.”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

The sky was overcast as they approached Njord. Massive wooden walls surrounded the city, each post in the wall the size of a full tree, as if the tree itself had the branches chopped off and the main stem stabbed in to the ground.

Rumor had it, the city itself was first founded 1300 years ago by a man claiming to be a powerful Viking lord. While the truth behind its founder was likely exaggerated or embellished, he established one of the most fearsome raiding fleets of his era and terrorized much of the coast of Anastasia. After his death, his many children picked up his mantle, but due to constant infighting the city never grew to be much larger than it is today. The city maintained its way of life until 300 years ago, when Luthas the Great began his wars of unification. The city, weakened by a millennia of infighting, submitted to Luthas when his armies marched north, sparing them of destruction and allowing them to maintain their traditions in exchange for their loyalty.

As such, the men of Njord swore their loyalty to King and his direct heirs alone, led by a Lord Mayor appointed by the King directly from the noble families of Njord. This resulted in Njord being the farthest reach of Royal Land from the capital and one of the King’s powerful backers, and it also made the direct political influence of the other Lords and Ladies of the land extremely weak.

Numerous long houses filled the city, built with a mix of wood and clay to fill any holes and prevent drafts. The roofs were covered with thatch, with the wealthier houses and shops replacing much of the thatch with wooden slats and clay tiles. The powerful noble’s houses and the church stood several stories high, adorned with various carvings of large sea serpents, carnivorous fish and a kraken.

Half the city was built out on to the ocean itself, protected from the waves by a large stone seawall with an entry gate for ships entering the port and fisherman leaving the city. Most settlements near the wilderness are eventually ravaged and destroyed by the monsters within, the survival of this city is a testament to the hardiness of its people.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

“HALT! State your business in Njord, travelers!” A male voice speaks out in a stern Njordish accent.

A large, burly man with blue eyes and blond hair steps forwards to address Diane and Thistleman as they arrive. He is wearing very well-maintained fur armor, and his arm is resting calmly on his sheathed sword, likely made of Cold Iron, a specialty in the region said to rival steel mainly due to its effectiveness and durability against monsters, although far weaker if used in dealing with people.

The two children stop their horses, the pitiful creatures breathing heavily from exertion.

Before Diane can speak, the female guard chastises the male guard.

“Bjorn, give these kids a break, just look at them and the condition they are in! Come now, your safe from any trouble here.”

A woman walks forward, with a build somewhat slimmer but more defined than the man, and a large scar cutting across her face. Instead of furs, she is wearing a Cold Iron chain shirt over leather armor and a Cold Iron helmet, with fur ear guards over the sides of her head. She is using her long silver spear as a walking stick. Her long blond hair is curled in to a bun behind her head, and her silver eyes shine with a kind expression. Ancient men may have mistaken her for a Valkyrie if they happened to stumble across her.

“My name is Brunhilde, please forgive Bjorn for his stiffness. He is a new guard here and I am overseeing his training. Now I know this may be hard for you, but please tell me about what troubles brought you here in such a manner?” Brunhilde emanated an absolutely disarming demeanor, and she asked her question while reaching up to pat Diane on the head. Meanwhile, Bjorn’s face winced a moment at the critique, but quickly resumed his stoic behavior.

“My name is Diane. Diane Culaine. I was coming here with my… servant Thistleman and our coachman when we were assaulted by bandits. I… I managed to kill most of them before we were able to flee… I don’t know if there are any more. Also… can you please stop patting my head?! I’m not a kid!!”

Diane immediately started pouting when Brunhilde started patting her head, but she didn’t make any real efforts to stop it either.

However, Diane needn’t have asked Brunhilde to stop, as the realization of what she just said sunk in.

“Wait… you were assaulted by bandits? And you both killed them?”

“No, she killed them. I only ran around. Oh, and here, they had these tokens on them!” Thistleman chimed in, and tried to pass over the Thieves Guild tokens to the guards.

He had smiled quite pleasantly at Brunhilde as he did so, but the fact he would talk about killing people so nonchalantly really threw her off. Diane’s pained reaction made sense, even if the fact a kid killed bandits did not. But Thistleman… that kid just gave her the chills. Why is the kid who didn’t kill anybody giving her the chills?

“No… you should keep those to turn in to the adventurer’s guild. We have contracted our bounties and payment through them, so they would be able to reward you for these tokens. Also… are you sure you were the ones who killed the bandits? How many of them were there? Ah… wait, never mind that.”

Brunhilde quickly changed her line of questioning when she saw that making Diane remember that event was making her sick, and her eyes started looking distant.

“Just… let us see your identification then, and you can head on over to the guild.”

Brunhilde managed to choke that up, feeling guilty about prodding Diane too much.

In response, Diane pointed at the crest on her bloodstained dress.

“This is all the identification I have with me… I… I don’t have anything else.”

Brunhilde sighed.

“Well, it will have to do. When you head in to the city, make sure you swing by the city’s government office for new entry permits. An adventurer’s card works just as well, but I think you are a bit young to get one of those.”

“Also, try to avoid the Brahmoun district. That area can be quite seedy and wouldn’t be safe for kids around there.” Bjorn chimed in, trying to sound useful.

“Thanks, we will try and take your advice.” Diane responded, trying to regain her noble bearing before riding in to the city. They could hear Brunhilde chiding Bjorn again about not scaring kids as they road deeper in to the city.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Diane and Thistleman road slowly through the town. Diane’s exhaustion was slowly catching up to her, but she remained focused and continued looking for the adventurers guild.

Thistleman was pretending to be tired as well, however Daemon’s weren’t known to particularly need sleep. In fact, powerful Daemon’s often used sleep as a show of confidence and strength, or to skip through boredom, awaking only when they sense a threat or had an interesting new scheme in mind. Still, he had to play his part. Even if it was a… *shudder* peasant. However, Sen…. Thistleman never failed at anything. If he was to be a peasant supporting Diane, his bestest friend, then that meant he would be the best damn peasant she ever had! As a best friend, he would be just as tired as her, and persevere just as long! Except he wasn’t tired. At all. He tried not to think about that part.

At least trying to figure out how to fulfill his new role was absolutely fascinating, particularly because it involved concepts so absolutely foreign to him. 10,000 years of study on annihilating things, all things, everything. He was probably the foremost expert on the topic in the multiverse. But… how the hell does being a friend work? He started to subtly study the crowd again.

The city had a very different vibe than Versailles. Other than the architecture, the people themselves behaved vastly differently. There seemed to be less entitlement, and a stronger focus on community than business amongst the residents. People were also notably much… poorer than in the Ducal Capital. And more heavily armed. Probably due to the cultural traditions and living on the edge of a violent wilderness?

Eventually, the pair reached the adventurer’s guild. It was located at the last patch of shoreline, before the road was replaced by wood-plank pathways, expertly built to rise and fall with the water levels and preserved with magic. The pathways connected all the different buildings and districts out on the water. Kids could be seen diving off some of the buildings in to the water, clearly unaffected by the colder temperatures. Some of the sections had old men sitting in chairs, with their rods in hand and a line in the water. Others had bridges between sections, and people paddling around them in small boats… for fun?

Diane was too tired to take much time to consider this sight. She was here at the adventurer’s guild, and she would need to collect the money so she could get a place to sleep. She would also need to find some way to make more money, since they had nothing else to go on…

They dismounted and hitched their horses by the water trough near the guild. The horses were all too happy to finally have a break, and slurped up the water ferociously before quickly falling asleep.

The pair entered the adventurer’s guild. There was a small set of stairs leading to the front patio, covered with a nice plank roof. The double doors were made of a solid dark oak, with a deep red border around them and golden handles. On the door was a large gold plate with the image of the known world, Anastasia and Ebenheim, surrounded by a great serpent, known locally as Jormungand, the world-eater. This was the crest of the Njord Branch of the adventurer’s guild.

There was a lot of activity around the guild. As Diane started reaching for the handle of one of the enormous doors, it opened inward. A group of rough looking individuals came walking out, not paying any attention to Diane or Thistleman as they walked past. The inside of the guild was just as noisy. Apparently a lot was happening around the world.

“Have you heard? The Frost queen has declared war on the Dwarves of Moeria again. Seems they weren’t prepared this time. They have posted some pretty hefty mercenary recruitment ads.”

“How hefty? I hear those Snow Elves are an extremely violent lot. If you don’t die by their hands, living as their slaves is arguably much worse…”

“500 gold coins for participating, and a dwarven crafted weapon if you do especially well.”

“Damn, they are desperate to offer that much! But… to get my hands on a dwarven weapon? I think it might be worth the risk.”

“Plus, I hear that Frost Queen is quite the beauty. I wouldn’t mind dying if it’s by her hands.”

“This is why you never get any girls, you really need to stop coming off as so desperate!”

“Philistander’s Hunters are currently looking for a healer! We are hunting the sabertooth, and promise an equal share in the reward!”

“How would we even get down there? I hear piracy has gotten even worse in the Treacherous Isles, and the land route is so far the war might be over by the time we reach there.”

“That is a fair problem, but it can also be a boon. I hear this is also increasing the reward for capturing pirate bounties. We can make a quick buck on the way to our next job!”

“Hahaha, now that is thinking with your noggin!”

“Captain Morgan is looking for several groups of adventurers to provide security for his ship on a voyage to the Empire of the Sand. Meals will be provided, as it is a round-trip voyage we are willing to accept adventurers for security on one and both directions.”

“A lot of other adventurers are also heading south, but I hear it is for different mercenary jobs. Some other groups still in the Kingdom are hiring adventurers left and right.”

“Yeah, it seems they are paying well enough and there is no fighting involved. Definitely a lot safer than hunting monsters up here.”

“That crier for Captain Morgan sounds pretty interesting. I always wanted to visit the Empire of the Sand, and I hear the drow are pretty close to the humans up there. I also hear they are much better to deal with than the snow elves!”

Diane and Thistleman made their way through the crowd of adventurers to the front desk, occasionally dodging a spilled drink and the feet of heavily armored paladins and knights. They arrived just as a man in full-plate mail armor picked up a small purse of gold from the attendant and walked away.

“Next! Nyah!”

A fuzzy catkin called out to the group. She had silk black fur, round cat-like eyes and pointy cat ears. Long whiskers poked out from a small patch of white fur around her nose, and a pair of small sharp teeth protruding out of her mouth. She was absolutely adorable.

“NYEXT!” She called out again. Someone behind Diane and Thistleman pointed down to the two kids at the foot of the counter.

The catkin looked over the edge at them in surprise, before speaking.

“Nyah! Sorry, I dyidn’t see ya there! I’m Elsie! How cyan I help ya!”

The catkin accent was strong with this one. Diane spoke up.

“We heard we can claim the bounty on some bandits if we turned in their Thieves Guild tokens here?”

“Nyah? Your claiming the bounty on some bandits? Nyow how did ya myanage that? I byet these aren’t even going to byee real tyokens. If it’s a scyam, then scram!”

Thistleman passed the tokens up to the catkin, quieting the laughter of some of the adventurers behind them. Elsie looked at the tokens for moment, then back at Diane and Thistleman. Then she looked back at the tokens. She then pulled out a monacle from her green vest, and looked at the tokens through the monacle.

“These are indyeed legitimate tyokens.” Elsie said, clearly dumbfounded.

“Then I would like my pay for them please.” Diane was quite tired, but she still maintained her professional business sense. Even if her family despised her, she still had a proper noble upbringing. Her father prided propriety and following tradition with a vengeance. A noble’s status was also reflected in the expense they provided for the growth and training of their heirs. However, training someone considered crippled and useless hardly does anything to help with prestige, and in her father’s eyes, a wasted expense for no return. Many noble families thought the same way and would secretly try and remove said failures, in order to maximize their returns on power and status. Diane had managed to survive through this process for 8 years.

“Hymmm, nyormally we don’t pay non-adventurers for quests, but syince these byounties were posted by the town guard, they asked us to pay anyone who cyollected on thyem. It seem they were ryookie byandits, so the reward is oynly 40 silver cyoins and 38 cyopper cyoins. Anything else I cyan help you wyith?”

“I would also like to register to become an adventurer with my servant, Thistleman.”

Elsie’s tail immediately stiffened when she heard the request from this stone-faced, deadly serious girl.

The other adventurers nearby became deathly silent, before erupting in laughter.

“First, this girl claims a bounty on bandits, and now this child wants to become an adventurer?!”

“Hahahaha, come back when you are old enough, kid!”

Thistleman stared daggers back in to the crowd of adventurers. How dare they make fun of her? HIS master? She is more than deserving to become and adventure, and many of you mouthing off here are definitely weaker than she is!

At the catkins shocked silence, Diane continued again, pointing at her Crest, and speaking with more determination. She was desperate, and after hearing other adventurers speak about what they could earn and seeing what she just made, she knew she would have no better choice if she wanted to survive. She needed this job far more than they didn’t want to give it to her. Plus, she was sure they wouldn’t have received the Duke’s decree that she was disinherited from the family. It was a gamble, but worth taking.

“I am Diane of House Culaine. I am pressing my right as a noble to register as an adventurer.”

Some of the poorer noble houses would send their children to prove themselves as adventurers as a way to increase income, build status, and reduce their expenses on hiring people to train their children. While it would normally be considered dirty for a great noble house to do the same, it was not entirely unprecedented. It was due to this that noble’s secured the right, during negotiations with the adventurers guild, that their children be allowed to apply and be exempt from the age requirement. Even so, it would be considered an even greater embarrassment if their child failed the exam after pressing this privilege, so it was extremely rare for children under the age of 12 to use this right, let alone an 8 year old.

This brought silence to the crowd, before an even greater round of laughter.

Thistleman was downright furious. His anger was overflowing in to Diane, who barely managed to contain it herself.

“Well? I’m waiting.”

Diane puffed out here chest and placed her hands on her hips, staring with absolute determination into Elise’s eyes.

The Catkin sighed.

“Fine. Nyah. But if you regret it, then dyon’t come crying back to mye.”