Nyathamon and Quintin's agreement stretched out in a pause that seemed to signal a change in the tides of fate. It brought quietude into the magical foreground, an apparition of their names appeared on the dot-like motes like a declaration. The [Pineking's] fruit-filled gourd roiled as it started to distort, and a great gooification took place. Its form shifted and jutted out into thin strands like incense smoke at obscure angles.

The distortion shook the motes around as the pale flesh-colored dough Nyathamon became slowly took shape in the form of a man. An old, hunchbacked man with a sagely bent, his eyes remaining perpetually closed. He had a head of grey hair with a red streak on both sides. He wore a loose-fitted white robe only held in place by a hempen rope around the waist and sandals.

"Allow me to introduce myself formally. My name is Nyathamon, youngster. Great [King] of any land I find myself in," he gestured around at the [Pinekin] with a well-pleased smile.

Quintin was awestruck by the transformation, and the revelation left him stunned. His previous calm stoicism teetered on the brink of collapsing and left him unable to speak right away.

"Come now, youngster, and here I was just starting to praise your commendable willpower and guts. One little shapeshift shouldn't be enough to make you lose your mind," Nyathamon said with a smirk of delight upon seeing this reaction.

With a dry, strangled gulp, Quintin spoke, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Nyathamon. You can call me Quintin. To be honest, it was all just very unexpected." He finished with a slight bow and cupped fist to Nyathamon.

Vissitri's rolled eyes spoke volumes, "Quit showing off you insufferable, gourd-brained, buffoon! I didn't come here for this. You told me, and I quote, 'There is an interesting fellow I just came across, care to give me your opinion?' Well, I have so hurry up already!"

Quintin didn't know if he was mistaken, but he could swear he saw a glimmer of excitement and even more confusion in Vissitri's face and actions.

Is there a strange sense of something between us?

"Yes, yes," Nyathamon hastily said, "The [Quest] is rather simple for a human to accomplish since you can easily pass into cities and towns. The beginning of my tale is quite embarrassing. I was spotted in a - how would you say - pleasant house?"

Vissitri interjected, "A whorehouse. He means he was seen cavorting in a whorehouse."

Nyathamon loudly cleared his throat. "Ahem, yes. I was seen in a moment of carelessness that saw the renewal of my kill-order bounty here in the territory of [Galjuran]. With my whereabouts out in the open, my enemies were quick to set out to try and find me. Right now, they have me penned in and station themselves at [Groanmarket] where I was last seen."

So I'm in the territory of [Galjuran], and there's a city or town called [Groanmarket]. He has enemies there, which means-

"Anyhow, that is where you come in," he said as he took out a brown burlap sack with gold-trim at the seams, "in this bag is my head or rather a facsimile of my head. I've poured a countless amount of my Essense into it over the years for just such an occasion. The only problem being, well," he shifted uncomfortably, "I've never had the chance to meet someone willing to help me."

Embarrassment and more than a little fury tinged Nyathamon's voice. "Your [Quest] is to take this head to the nearby Adventurer's Guild and claim the bounty in the name of my old team, The Ghastly Half-Hearts."

Quintin wore a ponderous expression as he heard the bare-bones of what was expected. He had a few questions, so he spoke, "This - Adventurer's Guild - will just accept it from a non-member out of the blue like this? How does that work?"

Vissitri leaned up into a sitting position with the answer, "Adventurers find new talent all the time throughout their travels. It's not uncommon for them to see potential and rouse the adventuring spirit with their deeds and actions. It's small beans for them."

The [Carbuncle] paused before adding. "That being the case, they won't question it too much and take it as a test-task that the Ghastly Half-Hearts sent you on. Adventurers call it a trust-test. Nyathamon can tell you more about the plan, though."

Nyathamon nodded and spoke, "It's no secret that there's bad blood between me and almost everyone on my former team. But, they owe me favors, favors I intend to call on now."

His head dropped as he looked dismally at the ground. "They will tell of a meeting gone South. The killing tension between me and certain teammates spiraling out of control, which led to my eventual death. Being the cutthroat Adventurers that they are, then decided to cash in on the bounty as; it would be a pity for his death to result in nothing but a foul taste in their mouths."

Quintin chewed on the underlying meaning behind their words, sensing a great deal of guilt and, potentially, sadness from Nyathamon. He knew that the [Pineking] was a manipulator. However, Vissitri being here gave him a calm feeling he couldn't place. He felt the [Carbuncle] was being genuine to a certain extent.

Just to make sure he understood, he spoke, "So essentially the plan is: I'm a newly found recruit for The Ghastly Half-Hearts who sent me off on a trust-test or initiation after tempers flared, ending in your death?"

Vissitri jumped up in the air and yipped excitedly. "You got it! See, I told you he would be a smart guy. Oh, but don't expect the reward; that'll go into their team account! I know how much you humans like your shiny coins."

Quintin replied dryly, "To be honest, that hadn't even crossed my mind."

To which Vissitri said, "A human? Unconcerned with wealth? You must be the first I've ever met!"

The laughter of two monsters and a human droned out into the valley. The plan was set; he only needed a direction to take him towards civilization. He felt relieved that he wasn't being asked to kill a dragon or fight a royal family.

Unknown to Quintin, the ripples of this encounter would spiral out and begin the greatest Calamity that Whorrl would ever face.