I follow the old bear inside, shutting the door behind me.

The Alderman's home is probably one of the larger houses in Klennock Village, but you'd never be able to tell from the inside through all the clutter and knick-knackery. The living room alone has no fewer than 10 stuffed animal trophies, and it's hard to navigate the furniture-packed room to anywhere but an old wicker armchair near the brick fireplace.

From somewhere behind a stack of old books, The Alderman fishes out a short stool and places it across from the chair, motioning for me to take a seat, then pointing a finger at the dry stack of logs in the fireplace.

"Inu Loog Mol," He commands, a fire arising from the wood after a moment.

"Didn't know you were a Spellchanter," I remark, trying to fit myself on the too-small stool.

"I'm not, really. That weak cantrip is the extent of my talent, and it took me almost a decade to get to a point where I could start using even that," The Alderman grunts, regret evident in his expression.

"Less expensive than a firesnap stick, though."

"True, but a firesnap stick doesn't bottom out my mana reserves when I use it."

The Alderman relaxes into his chair with a deep sigh, the wicker crackling and squeaking under his weight. After a moment collecting his thoughts, he leans forward, elbows on knees and hands clasped, "But I didn't invite you in to talk about me. Suppose for the sake of politeness, I should ask how you've been. I know we never talked much before you left with that money-obsessed bastard of a captain, but even so, you look like hell, Neal."

I shift on the uncomfortable stool, probably looking reluctant to speak when really I'm just trying my best not to fall off it, "Just tired mostly. Haven't had a good night's sleep since I left Neri Village down south last week. Dirolft chewed on my shoulder for a bit too, and my arms ache something fierce from the backlash of the martial skill I used to down the Alpha. Mam already gave me a thorough seeing to though. Verbally and medically, like."

The Alderman looks curious, "Backlash from a martial skill? What Class d'you have?"

"I don't," I respond simply.

"You..took down a pack of Dirolft and an Alpha...without a Class..."

"Yeah."

The Alderman sits up, massaging his forehead, disbelieving, "Just taking down an Alpha on your own at your age is a miracle in and of itself, and you mean to tell me you not only have a Martial Skill with no Class, but you took down them all, by yourself, without a Class?"

I shrug. My blase attitude to this is probably not helping matters, but I swear that's just fatigue. I really am feeling physically and emotionally drained right now. But my desire for sleep comes second to keeping my family - and by extension the village - safe.

"I want to believe you, Neal, really I do, but you're not making it easy. You know how absurd that sounds? That's the sort of feats Bards sing about in bars where the patrons are too drunk to question the content of their prose."

"Still did it," I smile, feeling maybe more than a little smug.

"Why don't you just tell me the whole thing, start to finish?" The Alderman says, giving up.

The story, from start to finish, has The Alderman enraptured. He doesn't say a word throughout, though he obviously has trouble stopping himself when I explain my decision to go after the Alpha on my own.

After I'm done recounting the tale of my reckless stupidity, the room falls silent, but for the crackle of the gentle fire.

The Alderman, contemplative, takes the tag from his pocket again, and holds it up, staring at it. What seems like hours later, he clenches his fist around the small sliver of metal, takes a deep breath, then groans.

"From what you've said so far, the pack wasn't very large. But with most of the local beasts dead in the Flood, the Dirolft had ample room to grow into a serious threat. This is the third crisis that's come to Klennock in my lifetime. No matter how I look at it, someone is trying very hard to get rid of us without acting directly upon that desire. You may have headed off this one, but until the Beast Tamer and their owners are dealt with I reckon it's gonna keep happening," He explains.

I tend to agree with his assessment. To a point, at least. The original bandit attack seems unrelated if you ask me. It's been too long between that incident and the Flood, but barely a few years have passed since then and now another by-proxy monster attack in the works has shown up to threaten Klennock Village and my family? That's a harder coincidence to swallow. I tell him as much.

"I suppose that makes sense. But that don't change a damn thing. Some bastard is trying to kill us and make it look like an accident of nature, and that's that," The Alderman scowls.

"So, what do we do?" I ask, not really expecting much.

He takes a moment to think, "You said you're going out to be an Adventurer right?"

I frown, "Yeah? What about it?"

The Alderman scratches at his beard, "I was thinking. The Adventurers I called down to deal with the pack can probably keep us safe for a couple months, or at least until the money runs out. My uh...friend...won't send anyone down that can't be trusted, I wouldn't think. But whoever is targeting Klennock isn't going to just give up 'cos their pet got killed early. If anything, you cutting off that Alpha's noggin is just gonna piss them off even more than they prolly already are."

He licks his lips, then continues, "So I was thinking. I can't leave the Village, and I ain't exactly the young and tough hot-blooded brat I was 'fore I settled down here. Why don't you treat getting to the bottom of this as your first Adventurer job? I'll send another letter with you and you can speak to my...friend. She'll probably help out once she finds out how serious this is. Won't be too happy about it though."

I can't help but raise an eyebrow, "You talking about an old lover?"

The Alderman looks away, guilt all over his face. So obvious.

He coughs, "She's a manager for the Adventure Company in Mhin. Knowing her, I reckon she'll take a liking to you, hopefully give you a hand getting started, even if it's only because I'm making it a Quest. I'm asking because I feel like I can trust ya."

I stand up, ignoring the circular imprint of discomfort left by the small stool on my ass, look at The Alderman, then offer my hand, "No reason not to look into it. I accept your Quest."

The Alderman chuckles then stands up quickly with a slap of his knees, and grasps my hand, shaking it very vigorously. I wince.

"Oh, sorry. Forgot you sprained yer arms," he apologises, laughing heartily to offset his sheepishness.

Quest Accepted! Hero of Hearth and Home Personal Quest/Regional Quest Difficulty: Extremely Hard/Nigh Impossible

Twice, your life has been drastically changed by the attacks of monsters in your hometown.

Having found evidence that these events may be part of a larger conspiracy, you have promised to find and resolve the source of the disturbances, for the sake of your own self-satisfaction and the safety of your family.

Whatever the outcome, this will have drastic consequences for Klennock Village.

Objective/s:

Reach the town of Mhin 0/1

Meet Alderman Daurn's Contact 0/1

Gain the support of Alderman Daurn's Contact 0/1

Become an Adventurer 0/1

Obtain a Class 0/1

Discover the truth behind the Monster Flood 0/1

Resolve the cause of the attacks 0/1

Optional:

Find the Owner of the Dirolft Alpha (Level 8) 0/1

Rewards:

Greatly Increased Regional Fame

Moderately Increased Continent Fame

Maximum Fame in Klennock Village

???

???

Additional Rewards May Be Available

Failure:

Destruction of Klennock Village

???

???

What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck.

I don't know what to do. I need to escape, yeah sure, great. How? I don't know. I can't jump through the windows. The drop would probably break my legs. The noise would tell them exactly where I am if they don't know already. Am I even alone in the room? I don't know. I don't know and it's driving Yemesvel up the wall.

I look this way and that, panicked. No other entrance I can use. Just the double doors which are almost certainly guarded at this point. Do I fight my way out? No. I'm not a fighter. Fuck. FUCK!

Pacing back and forth I chew on my glove. Think. Come on, calm down, just for a minute, and THINK!

Do they know I'm in the manor? Probably. Doubt they know where I am specifically. They can only assume I'm here, right? There's no guarantee either way.

Hide. Got to hide. Where?

Wish I had brought the grapple. No easy way to find me in the rafters. Can't stay in the room though, they're going to search for me. The dining hall is the obvious place for me to be. Or at the very least, close by.

I look over at my original hiding place. Then around the room again, eyes darting here and there with barely enough time to process what I'm looking at. No other spots strike me as particularly effective. The room is open, and open is exposed.

Cursing repeatedly, my gaze locks on to the naked dwarf statue. I deflate a little. I'm not confident this will be all that effective once they start actively searching for me.

Time to improvise. They hired me to vandalise the Feast of Rarities, expecting me to be unable to resist eating some, right? Why not make them think I just did the job and left? A bluff, in other words.

I suck air into my lungs, and set to work. I scatter the food, crushing fruit and messily carving chunks out of the meat. The soups I pour over the whole lot, and the roast boar-thing is ripped to pieces by my stiletto.

Then I channel Yemesvel's unbridled childishness and start carving dicks into the table with the tip of the dagger, finishing it off with a message in terrible Hommish:

Yemmsvl hud layt lunch so wan t hungre

byyyeeee

After a moment's thought, I add another dick, giggling quietly. Something about this is strangely gratifying.

I jog back to the statue, crouch down behind it then start concentrating on fading away. Have to trust in my luck and skills. If I can stay hidden here long enough, maybe I can make a break for it, and lose any pursuers in the city. I hope.

Elsewhere in the Dwast Clait's manor, a man sits behind the desk of an expansive office. Along the left wall, in a lattice similar in fashion to an iron wine rack, are rows upon rows of scrolls. Some slots home to multiple. In the corner, behind the man - a small man, lean like a rake, with thinning white hair and a wrinkly face scrunched up like he'd sucked on one too many lemons - Is a short bookcase.

He turns to return the ledger on his desk to that shelf, and a brief rapping of three knocks comes from the only door into the dim, candlelit room.

The man pauses mid-motion. After a moment's consideration, he pushes the book back into its place, then resumes a more dignified posture, arms crossed.

"Who is it?" He asks, irritated by the interruption of his work. The meeting with his guest is rapidly approaching, and he needs to be absolutely certain that he has the correct statistics memorised. A single number out of place could have serious effects on the profit margin for the upcoming venture.

"Hajo," Is the blunt response.

The man, Head of the Dwast Clait and one of if not the most powerful figures in Redault, rolls his eyes, feeling utterly unsurprised. The Spy has never been able to understand when he did not want to be disturbed. But there would be no point in retaining his services if Hajo was routinely ignored.

"Enter."

The door opens, and a filthy, rag-wearing beggar walks in with an incongruous air of dignity. He stinks, not of sewage but of Lavender soap. Evidently whatever tidings he's bringing not urgent enough to distract the man from his vanity, though Yprus is secretly glad Hajo didn't bring that fugue of alchemically-induced stink with him into the office. It's a greasy, sticky smell, that sticks to the room and the paper for weeks.

Yprus stares down the Spy, expecting prompt answers for the intrusion.

Hajo doesn't show any signs of being bothered by his employer, however, and speaks in a casual tone, "Figured I'd let you know that a 'guest' has arrived, according to schedule."

Yprus places his palms on the desk, half-standing up, "You're certain it's the right one?"

Hajo looks at his employer, offended by the insinuation he made a mistake, "Followed her from Drag Street. It's definitely the right one. Never even realised I was there, naturally."

Yprus smiles a thin smile, eyes narrowing, "Excellent. Shall we go offer our guest our hospitality?"