Brian stirred through his coin pouch with one finger. It had grown sixty gold heavier since the last time he obsessed over it. Before leaving the previous night's battle site, Calvin had the great idea of looting the bodies. Their weapons and armor weren't really worth taking, but they carried a combined total of three-hundred gold, and the half-orc had a small ruby. The gold was distributed evenly amongst the party members, while Hector held onto the gem.

For his part, Brian was conflicted. On the one hand, he liked having more money. On the other, he wasn't sure if he should. Did he really deserve this gold after his terrible performance last night? Most people would agree that sham of a fight didn't merit any sort of reward, so did he really have the right to take one? In their victory, perhaps, the party proved their worth. However, was that really enough?

Was he good enough for the few extra coins he now carried? If someone had asked him that question two days ago, he would have said yes. Now? Not so much. Whatever sense of morality this new world thrust upon him said that gold belonged more rightly to someone else. Brian would have to do better in the future if he truly wanted to earn it.

The party came upon a copse of trees just after midday. Now, though the areas in and around central Wildemount were mostly flat plains and rolling hills, it was dotted by little wooded areas here and there. However, this was only the second one which the road passed through, the first being where the party met up with those bandits the night prior.

To say this put all of them on edge was an understatement. Ylva went so far as to draw her shield. Calvin gave his weapon an uneasy heft onto his shoulders. The other three did nothing, but Tiffany was quite obviously uneasy as they entered the canopy.

Brian kept his head on a swivel while they passed through it. Wind rippled the leaves and howled past the trunks, but otherwise the only sounds were their own footfalls. It seemed nothing lived in these woods. And, if they did, none of them cared to bother the humans. Not that this meant much, however. The attack last night proved if someone—or something—really didn't want to be seen, then there wasn't much any of them could do about it, especially Brian.

So, he kept an eye out. Whatever mistakes lead to the previous events, he would not repeat them, even if he didn't really know what those mistakes were. He remained on edge the whole time. Every sound was someone sneaking up on them. Every movement, a potential attacker. He didn't relax even an inch until all five of them came out the other side.

Immediately after the copse lay a large expanse of farmland. At the end of it, Brian could make out the boundaries of a town. This must've been their destination. Walking toward it brought them past many grizzled workers tilling the fields, people of all shapes, sizes, and races working together to grow whatever crops they set their backs to digging. Some watched or greeted them as they passed, but most were too engrossed in their tasks. Or, they just didn't care. Either one was fine by Brian, really.

Approaching the town—the name of which Brian could neither remember nor pronounce—the party got a good look at it from the outside. It was small, only large enough to host a few hundred people, definitely less than a thousand. The roads were laid out in an even grid to form what appeared to be a perfect square. There were no walls, nor defenses of any kind. Brian began to wonder how a place like this existed without being ransacked, but then remembered his objective. It had been, to the tune of a missing chalice.

They made it about six steps into town before a guard intercepted them. He was a tall man, clad in normally colored chain maille shirt with a ratty brown tunic over it, matching quilted trousers, and battered schynbalds. He had a bow over one shoulder, a quiver over the other, and an axe at his hip.

"Hold there, travelers," he said, raising a bare hand. "State your business."

"Who wants to know?" Calvin fired in before anyone else could speak.

"The guard captain who just saw five heavily armed folks waltz into his town," the guard said. Brian could've commented that, if the captain had been doing his job, then this meeting would have happened outside the village, but he hadn't the energy.

"Easy, Calvin," Hector stepped forward. "My name is Hector Alvarez. My companions and I are from the Adventurer's Guild. We were hired by a citizen named Alice Dullon to recover an heirloom chalice recently stolen from her."

"Oh, so you're the ones they sent?" The guard said. He looked them over one at a time. "I guess that makes sense."

"You've heard about the contract?" Hector asked.

"This is a small town. Nothing stays secret for long."

"Captain," Ylva began. "Do you know anything about the chalice, or who might have taken it?"

"Oh, we're pretty sure it was the goblins," the guard captain said as if it were no big deal.

"Goblins?" Echoed Ylva.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Nasty fuckers have been giving us trouble for about a month now, stealing our crops and trade goods, attacking travelers on the road. Bunch of piss pots."

"You haven't gone to the Crownsguard?" Brian asked.

"Those lazy gits?" The guard looked to his left and spit. "The don't care none for bumpkins like us. We've sent six requests for help, haven't heard nothing back yet. That's why a bunch of us pooled our gold together and hired you lot."

"It's awful the Empire would ignore its own people like that," Tiffany said. It took Brian a moment to realize who'd spoken, as she normally stayed quiet in moments like this.

"Empire jurisdiction and Empire protection are two very different things. We don't make them enough money to be worth spending money on, so we fend for ourselves."

"I'm sorry things are like that, but I promise we'll do everything we can to help," Ylva said. "Do you know where we could begin to look for these goblins?"

"No." The guard shook his head. "Never seen them myself. There's a trader waylaid in town though, who's wagon was attacked about a day and a half ago. He might know something."

"Perfect," Hector said. "Do you know where he is?"

"Unless he left for some reason, he'll be at The Bunkhouse. That's our inn. You might find Alice there, too."

"Oh, good. We weren't sure if this place would have an inn or not," Brian said with a concerned look for Ylva, who hadn't slept much the night before.

"It's useful for accommodating peddlers and the like. Just go one street over and follow it all the way to the end. The Bunkhouse is the second tallest building in town."

"Okay, we'll do that." Hector began to lead the party on. "Thank you for your help."

"Yeah, yeah," the guard said as the party separated from him.

The streets were mostly deserted, Brian noticed as they walked. He assumed that, during this time of day, most folks were either working the multitude of farms surrounding the village, or running the few shops he saw. Unlike Trostenwald, this place probably didn't have enough different activities or professions to facilitate a twenty-four hour work cycle. A majority of the people who worked here were likely farmers, and as such would spend their days tilling instead of wandering the streets.

In a way, he was thankful for this. The five of them clearly didn't belong in a place like this, so laid back and utterly ordinary. They stood out like a quintet of extremely sore thumbs. The fewer people there were, then the less reason to worry about it.

"Holy shit," Calvin said at one point. "I just realized Alice and chalice rhyme."

"You just got that?" Tiffany asked, incredulous.

"It's the Alice Chalice!" Enthused Ylva.

"We've been saying the word chalice so much these past few minutes it's starting to sound weird," Brian observed.

"Well, once we're done with this quest, you'll never have to say it again," Hector said.

"I don't think I will," Brian agreed.

For such a small town, the buildings were pretty dense. The unpaved roads stretched on in narrow perfect rectangles, each block the exact same size. Someone obviously did quite a fair bit of planning before construction here began. The diminutive size probably helped. Though it made navigation easy, the tight formation limited visibility. As such, the party did not have a visual on their destination until they'd crossed the entire town to crest the final width-wise street.

The Bunkhouse was a two-story building made of dark wood with a grey mansard roof. Each level had four windows facing the street, with the double doors between on the bottom floor. If not for the little trapezoidal sign hanging out front, it would've looked like just a big house.

The interior reminded Brian a lot of the last tavern he was in: One big room filled by tables with a stage in the northwest corner and a bar at the far end. The difference was that this place was almost entirely empty. Someone clearly copied someone, here.

One dwarf sat in a corner table to the left. Two girls busied about the tables, one of them a human and the other a halfling. A third stood behind the bar. Either she was standing up on something, or was extremely tall for a human woman. She rose to almost the same height as Calvin. Her wiry blonde hair fell just long enough to brush her shoulders with how it parted in the center to frame her pale strong features. Pretty in her middle-age, she had a pointed chin and sharp blue eyes.

"Welcome to The Bunkhouse," she called out to the party when they were about halfway to her. "As you can see, we're terribly busy, so there may be a delay."

Hector chuckled. "We're sorry to impose."

"Eh, don't be if you're going to anyway," the woman said. She waited until they reached the bar before speaking again. "What can I get for you?"

"We might be interested in a room, if you have any, but right now we're looking for information," Hector said.

"Long as that doesn't involve you smashing up the place, then go ahead," The woman said.

"No, no, nothing like that," Hector waved it away. "We're from the Adventurer's Guild, here about a stolen chalice."

"Ah, I thought you looked a bit eccentric for this little town," the woman nodded. Brian grimaced at the choice of words. "Did you talk to Kyp at the gate?"

"Not sure," Ylva said. "We talked to a guard, yes: Tall, greasy hair, brown eyes..."

"Kind of an asshole," provided Calvin.

"Yep," the woman chuckled. "You definitely met my husband. Did he tell you about the goblins?"

"He did," confirmed Hector. "He also pointed us here. Do you know where to find the person who filed the contract? She goes by the name Alice Dullon."

"I don't go by that, my name is Alice Dullon, owner of the Bunkhouse, the best inn in all of Ebenestadt."

"Isn't it the only inn?" Tiffany asked.

"And that's what makes it the best," Alice joked.

"You're Alice Dullon?" Hector brought things back on track. "Well, that makes things easier. What can you tell us about the chalice?"

"Honestly, fuck the chalice. It's just a cup that belonged to my grandma," Alice said. "What I really want is the goblins dead."

"Then why mention it in the first place?" Ylva asked.

"I thought something to retrieve would make the job more appealing, and get someone out here sooner," Alice explained.

"Out of curiosity," Brian spoke up, "how long as it been"

"Six days," Alice said. "Technically, though, you responded in four since it would've taken a day for the request to reach you, and then a day for you to travel here."

Brian filed that away in a brain box labeled important. The Guild had a response time of less than a week. He wasn't sure what that information meant, but it would surely become useful at some point.

"Can you tell us anything about the goblins?" Ylva asked.

"Not really." Alice shook her head. "I spend most of my days cooped up in here. Did Kyp tell you about the waylaid merchant?"

"Yeah," said Calvin.

"Then you'll want to talk to that drowned old codger over there." Alice pointed to the dwarf in the corner. "Darmus Emnik. He's been like that ever since, no where to go, barely any money to spend. The goblins took everything from his cart. I feel bad for him, really."

"That's awful," Ylva said.

"We'll go talk to him, see if we can make this right," Hector said before leading the party in that direction.

Though he probably was old by human standards, Darmus appeared to have barely missed middle-age for a dwarf. He had ot a grey hair on his head, nor snaggle in his red beard, nor wrinkle upon his face. When he looked up at the approaching party, his cheeks were flushed all the way up to the dark circles beneath his eyes. He looked strung out and tired, appropriate for someone who just been so heinously robbed. Brian considered leaving him alone. It was rude to bother him about the incident when he was clearly so broken up about it. But, he was their only lead. They had no choice.

"Mr. Emnik?" Hector asked when they were within easy conversation range.

"Mr. Emnik is my granddad," the dwarf slurred. Even from a few feet away his breath stank of bourbon.

"Darmus, then," Hector corrected himself. "We're from the Adventurer's Guild. We'd like to ask you a few questions about your cart."

"Bah! I don't wanna talk about my cart." Darmus grabbed his half-full tankard and gestured toward Hector with it. "I've done enough talking about my cart." He took a drink.

"I understand you're frustrated, but—"

"Frustrated? Frustrated?" Darmus scoffed. "Those hunched over, green-skinned, rats took everything from me! I'm well beyond frustrated."

"Sir Dwarf." Ylva put a hand on the table. "If they really took everything, then they probably still have some or even most of it. Help us find them, and we might be able to get it back."

"You'd do that for me?" Darmus wondered aloud.

"We're going after them, anyway," Ylva said.

Darmus paused for a second, seeming to mull over what she said. He didn't need much convincing, though. He wanted his stuff back, and didn't care how that happened. Brian would think the same way, if in his situation.

"Alright," he nodded. "I tell you what happened, and you get me back my stuff. And don't take nothing, neither."

"Not a single piece of dust," Ylva promised with a smile.

Darmus paused again, this time to collect his thoughts. "I was on my way from Nicodranas, about a day from the Wuyun Gates. I'd just come up on the Cyrengreen forest when it happened. There were traps in the road, pitfalls and covered bear traps. All but one of my guards fell to them, the last was cut down by arrow fire. Seven or eight goblins ran from the trees. They destroyed my cart, shoved all of my goods in to boxes and bags, and took off back into the forest. I only got away because I hid under the thing. Great, valiant dwarf I am, hiding from goblins. My father is probably rolling in his grave right about now."

"You were outnumbered and probably terrified. There's no shame in living to fight another day," Ylva said in the same teacherly tone she used when training people.

"Thanks, lass."

"Do you have any idea where they went?" Hector asked.

"Well, if I know goblins well as any dwarf knows goblins, they're probably somewhere underground. Crumbletop cave would be the closest place in that part of the forest. Hunters and merchants like to use it as a safe place to camp in the night."

"And how to we find Crumbletop?" Hector continued.

"Go several hours south of here. Watch the treeline and you'll see a spot that dips inward and then bulges out abruptly. Enter at the point closest to the road and head straight northwest. You'll see a tiny hill. Cumbletop is set within its base."

"That should be all we need. Thank you so much for your help, Darmus," Ylva said.

"Yeah, sure." Darmus shooed them away with his cup. "Don't get all mushy on me. Just get me my stuff back."

"We'll do our best." Hector gave a little bow, supported on his staff. "Until we meet again."

Darmus said nothing as the wizard led his team away. With a destination and an extra objective, they departed further down the Amber Road. Brian wondered how they were supposed to carry a whole cart's worth of stuff back with them, but those were considerations for the future. Right now, he had an impending fight to worry about.

He worried for Ylva. She must've been exhausted, though she never spoke a word of it. Brian didn't know her very well, but he did well enough to know she never would. Any suggestion they rest would be rebuked with no chance for argument. He hoped she would be okay for the violence sure to come.