Neorth prodded his horse to move a tiny bit faster, but the placid animal didn't so much as twitch. With a sigh, he pulled his cloak tighter around himself.

"Can't he move to a warmer region? Why live in the Farsas region? Five months of ice and snow, three months of snowmelt and four months of autumn storms," he mumbled miserably. The cold was eating through his thick boots, crawling ever closer to his tender toes.

"Ho, the cart!" called a woman from the front. He looked up and saw two, no, four people standing at the side of the street. One burly man carried a petite girl on his back, while the woman that waved at him had her other arm wrapped around a man, supporting him. Their armor wore spots of dried blood and their faces were partly smeared with what looked like a mixture of blood and dirt.

"Greetings," said Neorth, as he pulled his horse to a stop next to them, taking in a whiff of unwashed bodies. For once, he praised the cold weather that deadened his nose. "Adventurers, fresh out of a dungeon, I assume?"

"Yes. Could we ask you for a ride to the city? Our friend here is wounded," said the woman.

"Sure, make yourselves comfortable in the back. Just don't touch anything in there." He waited for them to walk around his cart and settle down, before getting his horse moving again. Out of curiosity, he glanced back for another look.

The big man, wearing reinforced leather armor, a shield and a sword had short brown hair. He was bulky, but that was about it. The petite woman he had carried on his back and who was now sitting next to him wore her long blue hair in two tight braids and curled around her head. Her blue dress was washed out. The other woman, the one who had talked to him, turned around just at that moment, giving him a good view of her sharp face and green eyes. Her blonde hair was braided around a spiky stripe. Light leather armor and a spear completed the look of a competent warrior. The fourth leaned against the side of the cart. The most prominent about him was his silver hair, tightly braided, and the blindfold. He wore no armor, only brown and green clothes. A bandage was wrapped around his left leg.

"Something happened to your friends eyes?" he asked conversationally with a hint of pity. That one would have to drop out of the Adventurers Guild.

"No. He got a wound on his leg. The blindfold is for... different reasons," answered the woman hesitantly.

"If you say so," Neorth shrugged.

"My name is Lydia. Do you come to Brookwasp City often?"

"Neorth. No, couldn't say that. I prefer the routes further south, where it's warmer. I only come here once or twice a year, to visit a friend and deliver books. I can't understand why people would build a town this far north, much less live in it when they could just move south and have an easier life."

"I've heard that there are more dungeons in the north than in the south," said Lydia.

"True. And because there's money in the dungeon business, people put up with this thrice-cursed cold."

They reached the city gate.

"I have to make a stop at the Adventurers Guild. You can stay put, if you want?"

"That..."

"I'll bring them over to the Stumbling Rat while you do the report," said the big man.

A little silence later, Lydia sighed. "It's not that far from the gate. Crear, wake up... Must've fallen asleep."

"I'll carry him, then."

"Thanks, Roric. I'll bring his backpack over. See you later."

Neorth watched the big guy hop off the cart and vanish into the streets with the girl on his back and the sleeping man over his shoulder.

"Did you just say Crear?" asked Neorth, navigating his horse down the street.

"Yes. Why do you ask?" Lydia crawled onto the front seat next to him.

"Crear the Griffin Catcher? The Silent Shadow? The Unflinching Ranger? You mean that Crear?"

"Uhm..." Lydia Looked at him, confused. "I don't know about all those titles, but his name is Crear. What do all those titles mean?"

"To think that the fastest adventurer rookie was in my cart! Wait, maybe he's not the same person. Ah, but I can dream, can't I?" Neorth looked wistfully into the distance.

"What do you mean, Neorth? I don't understand it."

"Oh, sorry. I only heard the rumors. Five years ago, a rookie adventurer rose to fame in this very town. It's said that he reached C-rank in a mere year. He rarely joined a party and delved into the dungeons in this region by his lonesome self, always coming out of them alive and with the proof of finishing the dungeon. He got the title Griffin Catcher after he beat the Griffin dungeon. He was raised to C-rank and then vanished." Neorth lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "No one knows where he went. Did he die in a dungeon? Has he moved on to another region? Was he killed? Scouted by the nobles?"

"I don't think they are one and the same person," said Lydia.

Neorth hid his smile behind a cough. How he loved to tell that tale. The Stumbling Rat, eh? At least this time, I know where to deliver his books. Or I could ask the Guild Master to call him over. Always fun to watch those two squabble. But tweaking his tail in front of his party members shouldn't be bad either. And since when does he even have a party? And how did he get wounded? Not even a dungeon griffin could scratch him!

"Ah, the Adventurers Guild. We're here." Neorth brought his cart to a stop at the side of the building.

"Until next time, Neorth. It was a pleasure." The woman hopped onto the muddy ground, waved at him with a smile and vanished into the building.

"Until next time, indeed," mumbled Neorth with a smirk.

"You've been gone for 5 days. What happened?" asked the Guild Master with a raised brow. Only Lydia stood before him. "And where are the others?"

Lydia recounted their experience of the fox dungeon, showing the maps Thira had made and explaining the vanishing paths. The riddle on the second and third floor, the accident with the trap and that Roric had brought Crear to their inn to let him rest. Their way through the much easier fourth floor and the challenges in disguise on the fifth floor.

"Crear got wounded? In an F-ranked dungeon? That's the best joke I've ever heard," laughed the Guild Master.

"But it's true! He was out for three days and he's still too weak to walk on his own," bristled Lydia against the Guild Masters merry.

"Oh, I don't doubt it. It's just... he always came out of dungeons without a single scratch!" His eyes danced with mirth. Finally something to tug his tail with. The titles he had gotten a few years back couldn't budge the boy any longer. But this! This was good.

"Thank you for your report. The rewards you got are yours, as usual."

"What about the dungeon? Will you change its ranking?" asked Lydia.

"Yes - and no." He tapped his fingers together in thought. "I'll have to think about it, but the difficulty was lowered after Crear got wounded. I assume it is one of those training dungeons, though more in line with F- and E-ranked adventurers. Gives them a taste of a real dungeon without too much danger. And they have to apply their knowledge of dungeon basics, too. Yes, a training dungeon for F- and E-ranks. This sounds promising. And it's even impossible to share a map or information about the dungeon because the layout and the riddles change."

Lydia looked at him questioningly.

"You see, the other two groups didn't mention anything about having to gather colored stones to reach the next floor. Only two riddles at the end of the fifth floor. And even fewer traps than your group encountered. I assume this fox you talked about is the resident dungeon spirit and changes everything around to fit the current adventurers. Though it is curios that there already is a dungeon spirit. This dungeon has been found only two weeks ago. It's not even a decade old...

Anyways, thank you for your report. I heard Maria say that yours was only a temporary party? What a shame."

Lydia bowed her head slightly and left. Clever girl. Just a shame that they were a temporary party. "And I had already thought that I finally found a party for Crear."

"What's this about a party for Crear?" asked his next visitor.

The Guild Master focused back on the door. Then jumped from his chair and rounded his desk. "Neorth, my old friend! What lucky breeze brought you here?" He hugged the merchant briefly. "Come, sit down. Tell me where you've been."

"Down south, as usual. Selling all those dungeon materials you adventurers get up here. People went crazy for the griffin feathers, as usual. Even if they are from a weakened dungeon monster and not from the real deal. Found a book or two for your favorite miscreant. You know, if he lived further south, I would stop making this ridiculous trip. It's just too freaking cold up here."

"Come, Neorth, I know you make a pretty penny from selling all those monster materials. You would still come here, even if Crear left."

"Speaking of, did he finally join a party? I saw this Lydia woman leave just now. They looked pretty tight when I picked them up outside of town. Though Crear didn't say anything to that. Looked a bit pale around the nose and unconscious, if you asked me," mused Neorth.

"They did?" The Guild Master leaned forward expectantly in his seat but slumped back immediately. "Don't raise my hopes, man. I wish it were like this, but theirs was a temporary party for the duration of one dungeon. They wanted to tackle the Silkhook Dungeon two days north, but students from the Watervale Academy caught them before they could enter, much less finish it."

"Aie, what bad luck. You mean he'll leave this party again?"

"Sure he will. I'm positive he did everything he could to get kicked out. But a temporary party... I mean, I can force him to join a party once, maybe twice, but it won't work for long. If he goes somewhere else, he'll be out of my influence."

"They looked like a good group. This big guy even carried him to their inn."

"Yes," the Guild Master sighed.

"Then we just have to trick him into joining their party?" pressed Neorth.

"If they even want him to stay. It's not that simple, you know?"

"Oh, but they looked like they wanted to keep him? Why would they bring him to an inn, instead of the Guild, if they wanted to be rid of him? But no worries, I'll test them for you, if you want. For once, I know where to deliver his books!" Neorth triumphantly held a satchel into the air.

"Books? What did you find this time?"

"Something about an ancient civilization who preserved and buried their dead kings in magnificent buildings. That's all I could glean from the seller. You know I'm not that good at deciphering ancient scripts. The other one is a diary from a woman 200 years back. She was burned for going against the laws of nature. She studied the bodies of dead animals. From the smallest bird to the largest elephant in the western steppes."

"That wasn't illegal even 200 years back," mentioned the Guild Master.

"No one would've taken note of her, if she hadn't started unearthing the freshly dead from the cemeteries and studying them."

"No!"

"Yes."

"What does he want with such precarious information? If he's caught, he'll be burned just like that woman."

"I have no idea what he wants with it, but getting this diary was a real hassle. He'll have to give me something real good in exchange. A few griffin feathers won't do it for this one," cackled Neorth. "Not that he'll be able to get them anytime soon. Not with that leg."

"He hasn't entered that dungeon in the last three years. He must have a stash of them somewhere."

"No way! That's practically cheating!"