Inside the Adventurer’s Guild it was stuffy and loud, with people moving at brisk paces in all directions. Boots clacked on the stone floors. The hall's ceilings were tall. Several pillars with carvings of monsters in the base supported the structure. The old maid wrinkled her nose, but moved towards the desks.

“Good day, Grandmother,” said the clerk, who reminded Hattie of a pearl, rather round, but beautiful, “How might I help you? Are you posting a request?”

“No,” Hattie glanced about her, “I’d like to join the Guild.”

The clerk's eyes widened a fraction before her face smoothed over with professionalism, “Of course. Let me talk with my supervisor. I’ll be back in a moment.”

Hattie let out a small chuckle. Last she heard the only requirement for joining the Adventurer’s Guild was breathing and a small fee. They could try to stop her.

The clerk returned, a drop out of breath, “It’ll be five silvers and you’ll need to fill out this application form, Grandmother. You’re quite sure about this?”

“Yes,” the clerk handed Hattie several pages, “I never enjoyed my youth so this is my last chance to try something new.”

The clerk smiled at the notion, “I hope it goes well.”

Hattie nodded, and filled out basic information about herself, and then the important questions came up, namely, her skills. Hattie closed her eyes, and the clerk noticed what section of the paperwork she was up to.

“We won’t be verifying any skills you put down, so be honest, because those will give you your ranking, and a team tricked is a trust lost forever.”

“Hmm,” Hattie said. What could she add to an adventuring team that went out to face monsters and mayhem? Inspiration struck and her pencil flew across the page in neat curls of script.

“That’s it,” Hattie handed the pages over, and pulled out the silver required, “How do I go about joining a group on a quest?”

The clerk pointed towards a long bulletin board.

“After we give you your badge with your ranking, depending on what it is, people will approach you or ignore you, so you’ll have to see what works for you. You may have to talk to others yourself.”

Hattie nodded. She thought though, that no matter what her ranking was, the sight of her wrinkled face and wizened years would dissuade anyone from approaching her. But Hattie hadn’t left the halls of Derington Holding to stop here. She would manage.

“We’ll get you your badge in about ten minutes, and until then you’re welcome to go check the jobs posted.”

“I shall.” Hattie walked towards the bulletin board, the first one catching her eye a series of portraits, underneath which were posted the bounty for the person presented in the picture. Most had to be alive, but some were listed as acceptable if brought in dead.

“I think I shall forgo those types of quests for now,” Hattie said, and moved on. Several people glanced at the old maid in their midst, and wondered what her purpose was. Elderly boredom? Unaware of their gazes, Hattie read over the next bulletin board. Requests for help guarding cargo, caravans, and people were listed there.

“Grandmother, grandmother,” the clerk called, and Hattie went back to her desk.

“Here’s your badge. You’re a bronze rank,” the clerk bit her lip, her pearl like features dimming, and lowered her voice, “You would’ve been silver, with your skills, but my supervisor said your age would slow you down. I’m sorry.”

“Not to worry,” Hattie took her bronze badge that was shaped like a wolf’s head, “That’s all, correct?”

“Yes,” the clerk smiled, pleased Hattie wasn’t going to make a fuss about what she had told her in confidence, “If you ever need a hand, ask for Emma.”

“That I shall. You’re a gem, dear.”

Hattie pinned her badge to her collar, and turned, peering at the crowd. Emma's supervisor was correct. Even with her skills, Hattie wasn’t spry enough to trek through Valehdart Forest or climb Mount Rellis. The folk here might respect what she could offer, but if she would be a dead weight, no one would allow her to join them. She needed a way to keep up with the younger adventurers.

“I despise horses,” Hattie shuddered at the memory of a horse that had almost snapped her arm in its teeth, as well as some other unfortunate incidents. She could tolerate wagons and the like because the animals didn’t touch her, and she didn’t have to touch them.

“I shall have to see what else the market offers in the way of transportation,” Hattie said.

Hattie left the Adventurer's Guild and made her way, yet again, through Apothecary Lane and back up to the market to find a way to keep up with the young adventurers. She found Han’s food cart, and when he finished with a customer she approached him.

“Hello again, Grandmother. What can I get you?” Han asked, and wiped his forehead with a cloth.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been to town,” Hattie said, “I wondered if you could give me any guidance as to transportation. I need a flexible mount.”

“At the horse market, Herny Drubbler sells solid gallopers at a reasonable price. He’s an honest fellow.”

“I dislike horses,” Hattie said, “Is there any other mount you could suggest? That has speed and stamina on par with a horse.”

Han’s frowned, considering, “My brother deals in gold wolves.”

“Aren’t those war mounts?” Hattie asked as a customer walked up to Han.

“That they are,” Han turned to a customer, who asked for five meat skewers, “One second, Grandmother.”

Han finished the transaction and turned back to Hattie.

“They are war mounts, but in the past years, a farm up north has been breeding them for docility. My brother has done some business with them, and he has some at his farm. I don’t know if they’d be gentle enough for you, but it can’t hurt to check, if you have such a dislike for horses.”

“Where can I find your brother?”

“His land holdings are in Redshire. The gold wolves wouldn’t do well in the town, they need more open space. If you ask after Fior Smiths, you should find his farm quickly.”

“One minute,” Han dealt with another customer, and then turned back to Hattie, “Say, my mother lives with Fior, so you’ll get a chance to see her.”

“That sounds perfect,” Hattie said. Even if those gold wolves weren’t for her, a visit to Grace would be just the thing she could use. Grace had married and moved out of Derington around the same time Hattie had gone to work for the Duke. If she was making up for her lost youth, a visit to a childhood friend would be just the way to do so.

“Thank you for the advice,” Hattie gave Han a few copper coins, “I shall let your mother know what a polite man you’ve grown to be.”

Han smiled, “Grandmother, you’re too kind. Take one of these on your way,” Han fished in the vat and speared several tiny potatoes, each bite sized, and sprinkled a spice blend while he rotated the skewer.

“They’re what my food stall is famous for,” he said as he handed the skewer over.

“Thank you, and I must be off before it gets too late.”

“Safe travels,” Hans called.