Two days have passed since our encounter with the adventurers, and there have been no further intrusions. DP-7 continues to monitor the road, observing similar groups of people traveling as before. I finally received a response from my probes, providing me a comprehensive map of this world. From my gauntlet, a three-dimensional hologram of Aranthia shimmers into view. The live video feed from the probes I launched into the upper atmosphere beams the planet back to me in real-time. It spins slowly, revealing the vastness of this strange world. I marvel at how large it truly is, how the landmasses—three sprawling continents—are held together by the endless oceans that wrap around them like a great, living sea. Every detail, from the tallest mountain to the smallest island, is illuminated by the hologram's glow.

I'm awestruck by the sheer complexity of this planet, by the diversity of life and the many different kingdoms that have somehow found their place within this vast landscape. It's all so foreign to me, yet so strangely captivating.

My attention is drawn first to the large continent to the west, where towering mountains stretch across the northern reaches like jagged spines, their peaks lost in a swirl of cloud and snow. Within these mountains, I see vast networks of tunnels carved into the rock, their entrances flanked by massive stone statues. The people there have built their homes deep within the earth, their cities hidden beneath layers of stone, visible only by the grand archways that lead into their subterranean world. Forges glow like embers in the dark, lighting the halls with a faint orange glow. These people themselves, stocky and bearded, go about their work, hammering away at anvils or tending to the glowing fires within the forges. These must be the dwarfs. Their banners, deep blue and gold, hang from the walls of their fortresses, displaying symbols of hammers and axes, signifying their craftsmanship and their pride.

To the south, the plains of this western continent stretch out endlessly, a patchwork of fields and villages connected by winding dirt paths and stone roads. Villages dot the landscape, their homes simple and practical, built from stone and timber with thatched roofs that rise like small hills. The roads are well-traveled, bustling with activity as merchants guide their wagons filled with goods toward the larger cities. Farmers work their fields, harvesting crops beneath the warm sun, while hunters stalk through the forests, their eyes sharp as they track down prey. Soldiers march along the roads, their armor gleaming in the sunlight, their banners flying high—deep red with gold emblems, their insignias unfamiliar but clearly marking their allegiance to different kingdoms.

The largest and most impressive kingdom of man resides on the eastern shore of the Western Continent, its walls towering above the surrounding landscape like a fortress meant to withstand any siege. The stone buildings rise tall and proud within the city walls, their structures a fusion of medieval and classical architecture. Tall spires and domed roofs dominate the skyline, their surfaces gleaming in the sunlight. The streets are narrow and winding, lined with houses made from stone and timber, their walls adorned with statues of warriors and mythological figures. The harbor is massive, filled with ships of all sizes, their wooden hulls creaking as they bob in the waves. The ships are intricate, their figureheads carved from wood in the likeness of gods, heroes, and beasts. Some are large and imposing, built for long journeys across the ocean, while others are smaller and swifter, designed for quick voyages along the coast. Aqueducts snake across the landscape, bringing fresh water into the city from the mountains, their towering arches casting shadows across the fields of crops that stretch out beyond the city walls.

Among these plains, I spot an unusual structure—walled and ancient, rising from the earth like a relic of a long-forgotten era. It resembles an old temple, its surface weathered and cracked from centuries of exposure to the elements. Surrounding this temple is a bustling city, filled with activity. Merchants, soldiers, and common folk swarm around it, as though it were some kind of religious site or place of deep significance. It's strange, seeing such a grand and ancient structure surrounded by the bustle of a modern city. I wonder briefly what purpose it serves. Perhaps it's a temple, though the activity around it suggests something more. Whatever it is, the people here revere it.

Further west, near the cliffs overlooking the sea, another elven kingdom comes into view. The architecture here is more formal, the towers rising from the cliffs like graceful fingers reaching toward the heavens. The elves of this kingdom have crafted their homes from stone, their walls adorned with intricate carvings of animals, plants, and stars. Their banners, green and silver, flutter in the sea breeze, displaying symbols of trees and moons, hinting at their deep connection to both nature and the stars. Their ships, sleek and agile, sail across the ocean, their sails made from enchanted silk that catches even the faintest breeze. These elves are sailors and warriors, guardians of the sea.

In the heart of the western continent, where the forests grow thick and tangled, lies another elven kingdom, this one unlike any other. The trees here are massive, their trunks as wide as the largest buildings, their branches spreading out like canopies over the forest below. It's in these trees that the elves have built their city, their homes woven into the very fabric of the forest. Bridges of woven vines connect the tree homes, allowing the elves to move gracefully from one level of the city to another. The city is alive with activity, the elves moving with an elegance that seems almost unnatural. In the center of the city stands a colossal tree, its trunk wider than any structure I've seen before. Carved from the tree itself is what appears to be a castle, its towers and halls formed from the living wood. This must be the elven capital, a place of great power and ancient magic. A large temple glows with an ethereal light, its silver spires reaching up toward the sky, casting long shadows across the city. The elves are peaceful here, their connection to the natural world evident in every aspect of their lives.

Moving south along a land bridge that connects the western and southern continents, I spot roads made of stone winding their way across the landscape. These roads are bustling with life—merchants in wagons, soldiers in armor, and families on foot all travel along the same paths, their destinations unclear but their purpose evident. The merchants' wagons are laden with goods, their wheels creaking over the stone as they make their way to the larger cities. Soldiers march in tight formations, their weapons gleaming in the sunlight, their eyes focused on the road ahead. Children run alongside their parents, their laughter mingling with the clatter of hooves and wheels. As I watch, I notice a small encampment of soldiers, their tents arranged in neat rows, their banners flying high—deep blue with silver stars, likely marking their allegiance to a nearby kingdom.

Across the oceans, ships of all sizes and shapes sail the seas, connecting the kingdoms of Aranthia in a vast network of trade and commerce. The ships are built from wood and sail, their designs varied and unique, reflecting the culture and craftsmanship of the people who built them. Small, sleek ships dart between the islands and along the coasts, while large, imposing vessels carry goods and passengers across the vast distances of the oceans.

As the hologram shifts, the southern continent comes into view. The landscape here is lush and teeming with life, the jungles dense and green, their canopies thick with vines, moss, and leaves. The kingdom of the beast folk lies hidden within these jungles, their homes built high in the trees, suspended from the branches like nests. The beast folk are a diverse people, their forms varying from feline to canine to avian, their movements agile and quick. Their city blends seamlessly into the jungle, with wooden platforms and rope bridges connecting their homes. Rivers flow through the jungle, feeding into lakes that sparkle beneath the sunlight. The beast folk banners are earthy and untamed, their colors blending with the natural hues of the forest.

In the eastern reaches of the southern continent, the land becomes rocky and arid, with tall mountain ranges rising from the earth like jagged teeth. The dragon folk have made their home here, their kingdom built into the cliffs of the mountains. The buildings are carved from the red stone, their surfaces smooth and imposing. The dragon folk themselves are large and powerful, their bodies covered in thick scales, their eyes glowing with an inner fire. Their banners are black and crimson, their symbols resembling flames and wings. The dragon folk ships are sleek and dark, their sails black and sharp prows cutting through the water like blades.

In the heart of the southern continent, deep within the jungle, I spot another ancient temple, its walls covered in moss and vines, its surface weathered by centuries of exposure to the elements. Surrounding the temple is a bustling city, filled with activity. Beast folk, man, elfs, orcs, dragon folk, and dwarfs along with merchants move through the streets, their goods piled high on wagons drawn by strange creatures with long legs and thick hides. This temple is larger than the one in the western continent, its stone walls towering over the surrounding buildings. It is clear that this temple holds great significance for the people here, though what exactly it represents is unclear.

In the farthest southern reaches of this continent, the jungles gives way to snow-covered mountains. The air is cold and harsh, the landscape dominated by icy peaks and glaciers. Here, life clings to the mountainsides, with only the hardiest creatures able to survive in the freezing temperatures. Beasts with thick fur and large claws roam the snowfields, searching for food among the sparse vegetation.

As the hologram continues to spin, the eastern continent comes into view, its deserts stretching out like a golden sea. At the foot of the mountains, I see fortresses carved into the cliffs, their walls thick and brutal, their gates adorned with jagged symbols. The people here are fierce and warlike, their bodies clad in thick armor, their weapons sharp and heavy. Their skin is a hue of dark browns and black, standing tall and muscular. Must be the orcs. Their banners flutter in the wind—black and red, with symbols of axes and skulls, marking them as warriors.

To the east, nestled between the mountains, I see a massive city, its architecture different from anything I've seen so far. The buildings are tall and slender, their rooftops domed and covered in gold and copper, their walls smooth and white. Arched doorways and tiled courtyards give the city an elegance and refinement that contrasts with the harsh desert surroundings. The harbor is filled with ships, their sails intricate and colorful, their designs more ornate than the ships I've seen elsewhere. The banners of this kingdom are deep purple and gold, their symbols intricate and refined, denoting royalty and nobility. The inhabitants there are mostly man though their skin tone is a darker, atoned by the desert life and sun.

In the middle of the desert, I spot another ancient temple, its walls smooth and polished, rising from the sands like a relic of a lost civilization. Surrounding the temple is a city of stone, its streets crowded with merchants, soldiers, and common folk. The temple's banners are blue and silver, their symbols unfamiliar but clearly important to the people who live here. This temple feels older than the others, its walls worn by the harsh desert winds.

Far to the north lies a mass of ice and snow connecting to the northern ends of both the eastern and western continents. This frozen wasteland is desolate, with little life to be seen. The creatures that do live here are strange and foreign to me—massive white-furred beasts with large claws and powerful bodies roam the icy plains, while smaller, black-and-white creatures waddle across the ice, diving into the frigid waters to hunt for fish. On the shores of a rocky island, more of these creatures bask in the weak sunlight, their sleek bodies glistening as they laze about on the ice. The seas around this frozen land are teeming with massive creatures that breach the surface of the water, their black-and-white forms cutting through the waves with ease.

In the center of this frozen landmass, I spot yet another ancient temple, though this one is far more remote than the others. The walls are thick with ice, the surface cracked and weathered by the freezing temperatures. An encampment surrounds the temple, though it is much smaller than those in the other regions. A few tents and campfires dot the landscape, the banners of the encampment fluttering weakly in the cold wind. It's clear that this temple is not as accessible as the others, though it still holds some significance for those who have braved the harsh conditions to reach it.

Finally, the islands south of the eastern Continent come into view, their shores dotted with wooden structures, their surfaces covered in dense jungle and rocky cliffs. One of these islands is home to another of these mysterious temples, its walls carved from stone, its surface covered in moss and vines. The city surrounding the temple is smaller than the others, but still bustling with activity. The banners here are green and gold, their symbols resembling the flora and fauna of the islands.

As I watch the hologram spin, I can't help but feel a deep sense of wonder at the sheer variety of life and civilization that exists on this planet. The biomes shift and change with every continent, yet life thrives in even the harshest environments. From the lush jungles of the southern continent to the frozen tundra of the north, the kingdoms and cities of Aranthia have adapted to the land in ways that are both beautiful and awe-inspiring. The ancient temples, scattered across the land like relics of a long-lost civilization, only add to the mystery of this world.

I study these strange temples with particular interest. Each one is different from the next, yet all of them are surrounded by cities and bustling with activity. Whether they serve as religious centers or something else entirely, I cannot say, but it is clear that they hold great significance for the people of Aranthia. The more I observe, the more questions I have—questions about the origins of these temples, about the civilizations that built them, and about the world itself. There is so much more to learn, so much more to explore. Aranthia is alive, a place of wonders and mysteries, its kingdoms teeming with life, its cities filled with activity, and its lands rich with history and secrets waiting to be uncovered.

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

Aranthia is primitive—there's no mistaking that. Its sprawling kingdoms stretch far across the landscape, but they lack the imposing grandeur of galactic civilizations. Instead of towering skyscrapers or bustling spaceports, I see stone castles—fortified, yes, but rudimentary. Around them, small villages cluster together, connected by winding dirt roads that meander through the countryside. Carriages, pulled by hooved beasts, slowly trundle along these paths. It's surreal—no speeder bikes, no starships, no hovercraft zipping across the horizon. Just the steady rhythm of hooves on the ground, the wheels creaking under the weight of supplies and passengers. A world untouched by modernity.

I shift the angle of the display on my gauntlet, zooming in on a military encampment nestled deep in a valley. It's large, teeming with activity, yet primitive by galactic standards. Soldiers, elfs it seems by their long, pointy ears, move between rows of tents, their armor glinting in the sunlight. Iron swords, shields, and bows hang from racks, while blacksmiths hammer away at crude forges. The tools of war here are basic, forged in the heat of flame and sweat. No blasters, no vibroblades—just steel and grit. And yet, there's something admirable about their simplicity, their resilience. These people are fighting in a way that the galaxy has long forgotten.

Then, something changes. My eyes catch it—magic. It weaves itself into the scene, adding an unexpected dimension. I watch as an elven mage, her long fingers tracing glowing symbols in the air, releases a bolt of energy that arcs like lightning through the sky. It's mesmerizing. I flick the controls, scanning the camp further, and see more. Beast folk shamans, invoking the spirits of the earth, cause the ground to tremble and heal their wounded. A towering orc, his presence commanding, raises his hand and summons a wall of flame to shield his comrades from an unseen threat. It's not just raw power—it's a connection, a deep and ancient bond with the forces of this world.

And it's not confined to the battlefield. As I shift the display again, I spot a nearby village. There, a human woman gestures to lift heavy stones into place, effortlessly repairing a crumbled wall. Children gather around a mage, chasing after shimmering illusions of glowing animals as their laughter fills the air. Magic isn't just a weapon here—it's life. It breathes into every corner of their world, shaping their existence in ways I've never seen before. It's awe-inspiring, and terrifying. These beings, untouched by technology, use something far more intrinsic, more organic.

I zoom out, turning my focus to the mines far from the encampments. They're so small, so humble, barely noticeable scars on the land. Miners chip away at the earth with primitive tools, their progress slow and deliberate. There are no massive machines, no endless rows of conveyor belts, no signs of vast industrial excavation. These mines, as crude as they are, respect the land in a way the galaxy never has. It's clear—these operations are far too small, too unsophisticated, to be Imperial in origin. They're extracting resources, but without the ravenous hunger for expansion that fuels the Empire. There's no destructive ambition here.

Relief washes over me as I observe this world. No Imperial forces. No Star Destroyers hovering ominously in orbit, no TIE Fighters screaming through the sky. There are no spaceports, no towering factories belching smoke into the sky, no excavators tearing apart the earth. For the first time in what feels like forever, I'm on a world that's free. Truly free. It hasn't been swallowed by the galaxy's insatiable desire for power and control. This place is pure—untouched by the relentless march of industry, free of the fear and oppression I've grown so accustomed to.

I feel a strange sense of joy, something I haven't felt in a long time. It's not just that I'm free from the Empire's reach—I'm free in a way I never imagined. I don't have to hide who I am here, because there's no one hunting me, no one ready to throw me into servitude. For the first time in my life, I have a second chance—to begin again, on my own terms.

My thoughts drift to Lyra. I imagine her here, in this untouched world. She'd be showcasing droids or mechanical wonders these people never could have dreamed of. I can almost see it now—the amazement in their eyes as she introduces them to the marvels of a galaxy far beyond their understanding. But she's not here. A pang of grief settles deep in my chest. She's not here to witness any of this, to enjoy the freedom this world offers.

I sigh, a weight hanging on my breath. I won't waste this chance, I silently vow. This world, this opportunity—this is my second chance. I will set a foothold on Aranthia, build something new, and honor the life I've been given. I'll make it count—for her, and for myself. I zoom back out, watching as Aranthia's untouched landscapes stretch across the display. This world is raw, unpolished, and free. And in its freedom, I find hope.

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

I pinpoint our own location. We are in the center of the western continent, not far from a large city. In fact, the direction of the city is where the three adventurers had headed. According to Eldrin's input, this city must be of man, so Apollo and I shouldn't have any problems fitting in. I then turned to the confiscated gear.

Draping the leather armor of the rogue over my chest plate, I find it conceals everything perfectly. The supple material hugs the contours of my gear, making me less conspicuous. I slip the leather gloves over my gauntlets, relieved they're large enough to cover them completely. After some quick adjustments, I create slits in the gloves that open when I engage my gauntlets. Testing the hologram display on my wrist, I watch the map of Aranthia flicker to life. The missile launcher and blasters retract smoothly. Everything functions as it should.

Next, I move the holster for my Malorian Arms 3516 to my lower back, ensuring it's concealed beneath the cloak. My Glie-44 blaster, hidden within my boot, requires some adjustments since the rogue's boots are far too small. After modifying my own, they now fit the rugged, worn look of this world. I drape the rogue's white cloak over my body, pulling the hood low to cast a shadowy void over my face.

As I reach for my lightsaber, I hesitate. This weapon is a part of me—an extension of my will. But here, on this primitive world, its presence would draw far too much attention. Carefully, I conceal it beneath the cloak, positioning it where it can be easily accessed but out of sight.

Apollo watches me closely, its photoreceptors flickering with curiosity. "Ryu, why are you putting on their clothes?"

I glance at it as I adjust the cloak, tucking the sword away. "In our current attire, we'd stand out too much. You saw how that woman reacted when she saw you—she screamed and ran. If we want to blend in, we need to look the part."

Apollo studies me for a moment. "And what about me? I doubt I can pass as anything but a droid."

I consider this and then spot the knight's armor among the confiscated gear. "Why don't you try the knight's armor? It'll cover up most of your, let's say, metallic features."

Apollo picks up the pieces of armor, its photoreceptors scanning the materials. "You think I can pull off the look of a knight?"

I chuckle, continuing to adjust the straps of my cloak. "We don't exactly have a lot of options. Besides, in that armor, you might look more imposing than most knights we've seen so far."

Apollo sighs mechanically but begins donning the chainmail first, pulling on the knight's chainmail pants and shirt. The fine interlocking metal rings fit snugly over its frame, producing a soft clink with every movement. Then, it starts strapping on the armor plates, piece by piece. The metal is intricate, with detailed etchings and a fur-lined cape that adds a regal, intimidating look. The skull-shaped pauldrons and the great sword strapped across its back complete the transformation.

Apollo, now fully clad in the armor, glances at me. "This armor isn't resistant to blaster fire, you know."

I smirk, tightening the straps of my boots. "Lucky for us, this world doesn't have blasters. Their weapons are primitive—swords, shields, maybe some magic. You'll be fine."

Apollo stands, adjusting the great sword on its back. "Are you sure this is convincing?" it asks, its tone uncertain as it looks down at the armor.

I step back and take a good look at it. "Impressive," I nod. "You could pass for a knight from any kingdom we've seen on the map."

At first glance, no one would ever guess there's a droid underneath that armor. The chainmail and plating conceal Apollo's mechanical frame, making it appear as a fully armored, battle-hardened knight. With Apollo now resembling a proper knight, I glance at my own appearance, pulling my hood lower and ensuring my lightsaber and blasters remain hidden beneath the cloak. We're as ready as we can be.

I rummage through the rest of the confiscated gear and find pouches filled various metal coins. "These are bronze, silver, and gold," Apollo explains, identifying the metals. I pocket the coins and find pouches of dried fish, fruit, and cheese, which I stash in my messenger bag. We're disguised, equipped, and prepared to blend in. Now, we'll see if our new looks can keep us from drawing unwanted attention in this strange world.

As I ready the speeder bike, Apollo stops me. "Are we heading to the same city those adventurers were heading to?" it asks.

I confirm. Apollo then raises a valid concern. "You made them think they were ambushed by bandits. What will happen if we come across those adventurers? They would recognize their gear and accuse us of being the thieves."

I frown, realizing the oversight. "You're right. We need to change our appearance."

"Fortunately, we have some paint," Apollo suggests. "And I can reshape the armor."

We set to work. The cloak gets painted black, while Apollo uses its strength and mechanical knowhow to reshape the armor. It removes the skull pauldrons and reshapes the shield into a large pauldron. When it's finished, Apollo's appearance is transformed. The armor now fits snugly, without the skulls, and the black cloak gives me a more menacing look. The great sword remains, adding to the imposing figure Apollo has become.

Apollo now stands before me, looking much like a knight ready for battle, minus the skull decorations. The reshaped armor and red cloak create a formidable presence, perfectly suited for blending into this medieval world.

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

I relaunch the probes but keep them in low orbit. This way, we can observe our surroundings via the hologram and get an up-to-date map. Their fuel cells can be recharged through solar power, so they can remain active for a very long time.

After one last check of our equipment and gear, Apollo and I hop on the speeder bike and head out. We avoid the main road to not gather attention and stop just a few kilometers from the city. We conceal the speeder bike under a large tree, covering it with foliage and large branches, then embark on the path.

As we walk, we pass by several people. One is a farmer on a wooden wagon, hauling bundles of a golden crop that sways gently with each bump. The animal pulling the wagon is sturdy, with a thick mane and large hooves clopping rhythmically on the dirt path.

Next, a man clad in leather armor rides by swiftly. A bow is strapped behind his back, with a quiver full of arrows and a messenger bag bouncing against his side. The animal he rides is powerful, with muscular legs and a sleek body, its hooves kicking up dust as it gallops.

We also encounter a squad of armored knights marching by in formation. Their polished armor glints in the sunlight, each knight holding a long spear and a round shield emblazoned with a crest. Their movements are synchronized, a testament to their discipline and training.

Despite the groups we pass, we manage to avoid drawing much attention, save for the occasional glance. As we get closer to the city, the activity on the road increases. Merchants with carts filled with goods, travelers with heavy packs, and more armored figures on patrol make the path busier. The air is filled with the sounds of chatter, hooves, and wagon wheels, creating a bustling atmosphere as we approach the city.

Apollo and I stand before the city gates, observing the line of people waiting to enter. The queue is composed of various individuals: merchants with carts laden with goods, farmers with livestock, travelers, and families. The guards at the gate are vigilant, dressed in sturdy armor with tabards bearing the city's emblem. They let people in one at a time, questioning each then letting them pass.

When it's our turn, we step forward. A guard with a stern expression and a spear in hand looks us over. "Identification badges, please," he says in a commanding tone.

Apollo and I exchange a quick glance. I was about to use a force mind trick on him when the guard continues talking. "Ah, I see you don't have identification badges. You must be new here. That's not a problem. To enter the city, you'll need to buy a temporary visa. They cost ten copper each."

The guard gestures towards a small room within the gate. "You can acquire your identification badges at the city hall or the Adventurers Guild. The visa is only good for one day. If you wish to stay longer without an identification badge, you'll have to buy another temporary visa or risk serving a week in prison."

He ushers us into the room. The interior is simple but functional, with wooden beams supporting the ceiling and a few benches along the walls. The most notable feature is a large wooden desk at the far end, where an imposing figure sits. The man behind the desk is introduced by the guard as Captain Adolf, head of the southern gate guard.

Captain Adolf is a man of medium build but exudes an air of authority. His hair is short and graying at the temples, and his eyes are sharp, missing nothing. He wears a well-maintained uniform with a badge of rank pinned to his chest. His demeanor suggests he has little patience for nonsense.

"Newcomers," he grunts, not looking up from his paperwork. "Step forward and let's get this done quickly."

We approach the desk, and he finally looks up, his gaze assessing. "Names?" he asks curtly.

"Ryu Chikara," I reply, then motion to Apollo. "And this is Apollo Steelton."

He nods, jotting down the names quickly. "That'll be ten copper each for the temporary visas. Pay up."

I count out twenty copper pieces and hand them to him. He drops them into a small chest and begins preparing the visas. His hands move swiftly, filling out the necessary details on small parchment slips.

"Here," he says, handing us the completed visas. "These are good for one day. Make sure you get your identification badges before it expires. Welcome to the city of Arroyo."

We thank Captain Adolf, who grunts in acknowledgment, already moving on to the next task at hand. We step out of the room and enter the city, the buzz of activity greeting us immediately. The sheer volume of people moving in all directions amazes me. The air is filled with the sounds of chatter, merchants calling out their wares, and the clatter of animal-drawn carts on cobblestone streets. The smells are a mixture of fresh bread from nearby bakeries, the pungent aroma of livestock, and the faint scent of something sweet from a vendor selling pastries.

As we walk, I notice the variety of people: traders haggling over goods, townsfolk carrying baskets filled with produce, and guards patrolling the streets with vigilant eyes. Apollo walks beside me, its imposing figure blending surprisingly well among the knights and armored figures we pass.

A group of children run by, laughing and playing a game of tag. Their carefree joy brings a momentary smile to my face. They weave through the crowd effortlessly, their laughter ringing out above the city's din.

In the distance, a deep, resonant bell tolls, its sound cutting through the noise of the city and momentarily drawing my attention upward. I marvel at the tall spires and intricate architecture, a mix of stone and wood buildings adorned with colorful banners and signs.

Apollo seems to be taking in the sights as well, its head turning slightly as if observing everything with keen interest. It's a lot to take in, but it's also fascinating. This city, with its lively atmosphere and diverse inhabitants, is unlike any place I've ever seen. I can't help but feel a sense of wonder as we continue our journey through the crowded streets.

"I wonder where the Adventurers Guild hall might be," Apollo asks, but my growling stomach interrupts.

Apollo turns toward me and catches me eyeing a stand selling a variety of cooked foods. The stand displays an array of sizzling meats on skewers, freshly baked bread rolls stuffed with various fillings, roasted root vegetables seasoned with herbs, and sweet pastries glazed with honey.

Apollo points out my distraction. "You seem quite interested in that food stand."

I nod. "I can't help it." I walk over to the stand, my mouth watering at the delicious smells.

The vendor, a cheerful man with a thick beard and a twinkle in his eye, greets me warmly. "Welcome, traveler! What can I get for you today?"

I glance over the array of foods. "What are these?" I ask, pointing to the skewers and pastries.

"Ah, these are my famous meat skewers," the vendor says, lifting one to show me. "Marinated in a blend of spices and grilled to perfection. And these," he gestures to the pastries, "are honey-glazed pastries, a local favorite. We also have stuffed bread rolls and seasoned root vegetables."

I stare at the food, unable to decide. The vendor notices my indecision and smiles. "If you're having trouble choosing, I'd recommend the meat skewers. They're a best seller."

"Alright, I'll take one of those," I say.

"That'll be 2 copper pieces," the vendor replies.

I hand over the coins, and the vendor wraps up the skewer, handing it to me with a grin. I take a bite, savoring the flavorful, tender meat.

Apollo gently reminds me, "We still need to find the Adventurers Guild."

"Oh, right," I say, looking back at the vendor. "Could you tell us where the Adventurers Guild is?"

The vendor nods enthusiastically. "Of course! Head straight down this main street until you see the fountain. Take a left there and follow the road until you reach the marketplace. You'll see a large building with a sign bearing a crossed sword and staff—that's the Adventurers Guild. You can't miss it."

"Thank you," I say, appreciating the detailed directions.

"You're welcome! Enjoy your skewer and good luck at the guild!" the vendor calls out as we continue on our way, navigating through the bustling city streets toward our destination.

With the directions in mind, we start our journey through the bustling streets of the city. I take a bite of the meat skewer, savoring the burst of flavors. The meat is tender and juicy, perfectly marinated with a blend of spices that leaves a pleasant, lingering heat on my tongue. Each bite is better than the last, and I find myself fully immersed in the simple pleasure of a well-cooked meal.

The city's main street is a lively thoroughfare lined with a variety of shops and stalls. To my left, a blacksmith hammers away at a glowing piece of metal, the rhythmic clanging blending with the background noise of the city. The air around his shop is warm, and the smell of hot metal and coal wafts over to us. Next door, a tailor is busy fitting a noblewoman with an elegant dress, their conversation punctuated by the snipping of scissors and the hum of a sewing machine.

Street performers entertain passersby with juggling acts and acrobatics, their brightly colored costumes catching the eye. A group of musicians play a lively tune on stringed instruments, drawing a small crowd that claps along with the beat. The melodies mingle with the scents of fresh bread from a nearby bakery and the tang of spices from a vendor selling aromatic herbs.

As we approach the fountain, its water sparkling under the midday sun, children play and splash, their laughter ringing out joyously. The fountain itself is an impressive structure, carved from stone with intricate designs of mythical creatures that seem to come to life with the movement of the water.

Following the vendor's directions, we take a left at the fountain and head toward the marketplace. The marketplace is a bustling hive of activity, with stalls offering everything from exotic fruits to handmade jewelry. The vibrant colors of the goods on display, combined with the energetic bartering of merchants and customers, create a lively, almost chaotic atmosphere.

As we continue, I notice a bakery with a line out the door, the smell of freshly baked bread and pastries mingling with the scent of flowers from a nearby florist's stall. Artisans display their crafts, from intricately woven tapestries to finely carved wooden figures. The chatter of the marketplace is interspersed with the calls of merchants advertising their wares, creating a symphony of sound that is both overwhelming and exhilarating.

Finally, we reach a large building at the edge of the marketplace. The sign above the entrance bears the image of a crossed sword and staff, indicating that we have arrived at the Adventurers Guild. The building is imposing, constructed from sturdy stone with wooden beams supporting the structure. It has an air of importance, a place where many have come to seek fortune and adventure. I finish the last bite of my skewer, savoring the final burst of flavor.

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

The Adventurers Guild building looms large and imposing before us. Its exterior is constructed from solid stone, weathered with age yet still exuding an aura of strength and stability. Wooden beams crisscross the facade, supporting the structure and adding to its rustic charm. The roof is tiled with dark, slate shingles, and ivy climbs up one side, giving it an ancient, almost mystical appearance. Tall, arched windows line the walls, their glass panes glowing with the warm light from within. The entrance is marked by a heavy wooden door, reinforced with iron bands, and the sign above, depicting a crossed sword and staff, hangs proudly, swaying slightly in the breeze.

I take a deep breath, feeling a mix of excitement and anticipation. "This is it," I say, glancing at Apollo. We push open the heavy door and step inside.

The interior of the guild hall is even more impressive than the exterior. The ceiling soars high above, supported by massive wooden beams that crisscross like the ribs of a great beast. Chandeliers made from wrought iron hang from the beams, their candles casting a warm, flickering glow over the entire hall. The walls are adorned with tapestries depicting grand battles, legendary heroes, and mythical creatures, adding a sense of history and grandeur to the space.

The main hall is bustling with activity. Long wooden tables are scattered throughout the room, each surrounded by adventurers of all kinds—warriors clad in heavy armor, mages in flowing robes, agile rogues sharpening their daggers, and archers with bows slung across their backs. The tables are laden with maps, scrolls, and an assortment of weapons and equipment, as adventurers plan their next quests or celebrate their recent victories. The air is filled with the sound of animated conversation, the clinking of tankards, and the occasional burst of laughter.

A large fireplace dominates one wall, its roaring fire providing warmth and a cozy atmosphere. Above the mantle hangs a massive, ornate sword, a symbol of the guild's strength and legacy. Near the fireplace, a group of adventurers shares stories of their exploits, their faces illuminated by the firelight.

To the right and further back, a notice board is covered with a myriad of quests and missions, each represented by a parchment pinned to the board. Adventurers crowd around it, scanning the available jobs and discussing potential rewards. Some of the parchments have intricate illustrations of the creatures to be hunted or treasures to be found, adding to the allure and mystery of the tasks.

To our right, a bar runs along the length of the wall, manned by a burly bartender who effortlessly handles the flow of orders. Shelves behind the bar are stocked with an impressive array of bottles, each containing different kinds of spirits and potions. A few adventurers sit on stools at the bar, enjoying a drink and exchanging news and rumors.

A staircase at the back of the hall leads to an upper level, where possibly private rooms and meeting areas offer a more secluded space for planning and discussion. The wooden steps creak under the weight of the adventurers ascending and descending, adding to the lively ambiance of the guild.

As we step further inside, the sheer scale and energy of the place becomes even more apparent. It is a hub of activity, a melting pot of diverse individuals united by their pursuit of adventure and glory. The sense of camaraderie is palpable, and despite the noise and chaos, there is an underlying order and purpose to everything happening within the hall.

Apollo and I exchange a glance, both of us taking in the sights and sounds. This is the heart of the adventuring world, a place where legends are born and destinies are forged. We are ready to become a part of it.

Apollo and I make our way to the reception area, weaving through the bustling crowd. The reception area is situated near the entrance, a large wooden counter dominating the space. Behind the counter, shelves filled with parchment, scrolls, and various guild documents are neatly organized. A chandelier hangs above, casting a warm, inviting light over the area.

As we approach, a few adventurers take notice of us. One, a burly man with a scar running down his cheek, leans over to his companion and mutters something, both of them glancing in our direction. A group of younger adventurers, possibly just starting their journey, whisper among themselves, their eyes wide with curiosity. It's clear that our appearance is a sight to behold, and our arrival has sparked a bit of interest.

A cheerful receptionist stands behind the counter, her smile bright and welcoming. She has a youthful appearance, with vibrant blond hair tied back in a ponytail. Her eyes are a striking ruby red, and freckles dot her cheeks, giving her an approachable, friendly look. She's dressed in a simple yet elegant gown, the colors of the guild embroidered along the hem and sleeves.

"Good day!" she greets us warmly, her voice carrying a melodic tone. "Welcome to the Adventurers Guild! How can I assist you today?"

I step forward, offering a polite nod. "My friend and I would like to sign up with the guild."

Her eyes light up with interest. "Really? You both don't look like newcomers."

I smile, trying to think quickly. "We've had some experience in the field," I reply smoothly. "But we thought it was about time we made it official and joined the guild. You know, for the camaraderie and access to more... challenging quests."

She chuckles, clearly entertained by my response. "I see! Well, you've come to the right place. Let me get you both signed up." She reaches under the counter and pulls out two forms, placing them in front of us along with quills and ink. "I'll need you to fill these out with some basic information. Name, skills, and any previous experience you might have."

As I look at the forms in front of me, it becomes apparent that I'm not entirely sure how this world's guild system operates.

"Forgive my ignorance," I begin, choosing my words carefully, "but could you explain exactly how this guild works? Ranks, professions, skills, the whole system. You see, my friend and I come from a... rather secluded place where information like this isn't common knowledge."

The receptionist raises an eyebrow, clearly curious but also intrigued. "A secluded place, you say? That must have been quite an adventure on its own." She smiles, leaning forward with genuine interest. "Well, let me break it down for you."

With a smile she begins. "The guild is a large organization that exists to manage and support adventurers like yourselves. It provides quests, training, and resources, and helps maintain order and safety within the realm."

She points to a large board on one side of the room where various notices and quests are pinned. "Quests are the primary way adventurers earn their keep and gain experience. They range from simple tasks like gathering herbs or delivering messages to more dangerous missions such as slaying monsters or exploring uncharted territories."

The receptionist continues, "Adventurers are ranked based on their skills and accomplishments. The ranks start from Bronze, moving up to Silver, Gold, Platinum, and the highest being Diamond. Each rank has specific criteria and achievements required to advance. The higher your rank, the more prestigious and challenging the quests you can undertake."

She takes a deep breath before continuing. "There are various professions adventurers can specialize in, such as warriors, mages, archers, healers, and more. Each profession has its own set of skills and abilities. For example, warriors excel in physical combat, mages in casting spells, archers in ranged attacks, and healers in restoring health and curing ailments."

"Skills are honed through practice and training. The guild offers training facilities and mentors who can help you improve your abilities. Additionally, some adventurers choose to learn multiple professions, becoming versatile in various skills, which can be quite advantageous."

She pauses, letting the information sink in before continuing. "The guild also has a system of party formation. Adventurers often form parties to take on quests together. This allows for better strategy and cooperation, especially on more dangerous missions. Parties can be permanent or temporary, depending on the needs and goals of the adventurers involved."

"Rewards from quests usually come in the form of coins, valuable items, or rare materials. The guild takes a small percentage as a fee for their services, but the majority of the reward goes to the adventurers who completed the quest."

She gestures to a few adventurers who are interacting with each other, sharing tales of their exploits. "There's also a strong sense of community within the guild. Adventurers often support each other, share knowledge, and sometimes even compete in friendly contests to test their skills."

The receptionist looks at us with a warm smile. "I hope that gives you a good understanding of how the guild operates. It's a system designed to help adventurers grow, support each other, and ensure the safety and prosperity of our world."

As she concludes, I nod appreciatively. "Thank you for the detailed explanation. It seems we have a lot to look forward to."

She beams at us, clearly happy to have helped. "You're welcome! If you have any more questions or need further assistance, don't hesitate to ask. Welcome to the Adventurers Guild!"

Apollo and I thank her and make our way through the bustling guild hall, weaving between tables filled with adventurers sharing stories and planning their next quests. The atmosphere is alive with energy, the clinking of tankards, and the hum of conversation. We find an empty table near a large window overlooking the city, and I take a seat, placing the form and a quill in front of me.

As I look at the forms in front of me, I notice something peculiar—the written language on the forms is one I recognize. This world uses the Aurebesh alphabet, the most common written language in the galaxy.

I carefully examine the form, noting the sections for name, class, skills, and experience. My mind races as I consider how to present myself in a way that aligns with this world. I print my name, 'Ryu Chikara,' in a neat script, then move on to the class section. I recall the various professions the receptionist mentioned and decide to label myself as a 'Rogue.' It fits the gear I'm wearing and allows for some flexibility in my skillset.

For the skills section, I list abilities that are plausible for a rogue: 'Stealth,' 'Sword and Dagger Proficiency,' 'Lockpicking,' and 'Acrobatics.' These are skills I can convincingly demonstrate if needed. When it comes to experience, I keep it vague yet impressive: 'Experienced in various clandestine operations and adept at navigating challenging terrains.' It's truthful enough without giving away too much about my actual background.

I glance over at Apollo, who is filling out its form with mechanical precision. I see the honest details about its abilities and origin. I quickly lean over, placing my hand on the paper to stop him. "Apollo, you can't write that. We need to fill this out with details that fit this world."

Apollo's turns its head towards me and I can see in the slits of its helmet its mechanical eyes narrow slightly. "Being dishonest isn't really in my programming, Ryu."

I sigh, feeling a bit frustrated. "I understand, but in this scenario, it's necessary. Trust me on this."

Apollo hesitates, then nods. "Very well, but I cannot knowingly provide false information."

Thinking quickly, I grab the form and stand up. "I'll get a new one. Just... wait here."

I make my way back to the receptionist, who is busy assisting another adventurer. When she finishes, she turns to me with a warm smile. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, everything's fine. My companion just filled out the wrong sections. Could we get another form?" I ask, keeping my tone light and casual.

She nods and hands me another form. "Of course, here you go."

"Thank you," I reply, heading back to our table. I sit down and take a deep breath, then start filling out Apollo's form myself. I give it a fitting last name that I've used back at the gate, 'Apollo Steelton.' It has a strong, mythical ring to it, suitable for a droid posing as a knight.

For the class, I write 'Knight.' It fits his imposing stature and the armor its wearing. In the skills section, I list 'Swordsmanship,' 'Shield Mastery,' 'Heavy Armor Proficiency,' and 'Combat Strategy.' These are skills that align with his actual abilities but are phrased in a way that fits this world.

When it comes to experience, I write, "Trained in various combat techniques and experienced in aiding others in battle." It hints at his strategic capabilities without revealing his true nature.

I finish filling out the form and hand it to Apollo. "There. This should work."

Apollo scans the form, then looks at me. "Ryu, this still feels... dishonest."

I place a reassuring hand on his arm. "Sometimes, blending in requires a bit of creativity. We're not lying about your abilities, just presenting them in a way that fits this world."

Apollo nods slowly. "Very well. I trust your judgment."

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

With our forms filled out, Apollo and I make our way back to the reception area. The receptionist is engaged in conversation with another adventurer but looks up and smiles as we approach.

"All done?" she asks cheerfully.

"Yes," I reply, handing over both forms.

She takes them and begins to read over the details, nodding occasionally. "Ryu Chikara, Rogue. Stealth, Sword and Dagger Proficiency, Lockpicking, Acrobatics. Experienced in various clandestine operations and adept at navigating challenging terrains." She looks up at me with a curious smile. "Sounds impressive."

I nod, trying to appear modest. "Thank you."

She then turns to Apollo's form. "Apollo Steelton, Knight. Swordsmanship, Shield Mastery, Heavy Armor Proficiency, Combat Strategy. Trained in various combat techniques and experienced in aiding in battle." She raises an eyebrow. "Quite the impressive resume as well."

Apollo inclines its head slightly. "I strive for excellence."

The receptionist chuckles. "Well, you both certainly sound well-qualified. My name is Felicity, by the way. Welcome to the Adventurers Guild."

"Thank you, Felicity," I say, appreciating her warm demeanor.

"Now, there's one more thing we need to do before we can finalize your registration," she continues. "We need to test your magical output."

I blink in surprise. "Magical output?"

Felicity nods, her smile never wavering. "Yes. We need to gauge your magical potential, even if you don't use magic directly. It helps us understand your overall capabilities."

She steps away from the counter and disappears through a door behind her. Apollo and I exchange a glance, both curious and slightly anxious about this test. After a short time, Felicity returns, carefully carrying a small pedestal topped with a crystal orb. She places it gently on the counter between us.

The orb is about the size of a grapefruit, glowing faintly with an inner light that shifts colors slowly, from blue to green to purple. Its surface is smooth and reflective, and tiny runes are etched around its base, glowing softly in response to its magical energy.

"This is a magicka orb," Felicity explains, gesturing to the pedestal. "It measures the magical potential of whoever touches it. When you place your hand on the orb, it will light up in response to your inherent magical energy. The brighter the light, the higher your magical potential."

I nod, intrigued. "And what if someone doesn't have any magical potential?"

She smiles reassuringly. "Everyone has some degree of magical energy, even if it's very small. The orb will respond accordingly. It's just a way for us to better understand your abilities."

Apollo and I exchange another glance, and I can see the curiosity in its mechanical eyes. "Shall we?" I ask, motioning toward the orb.

"Yes," Apollo agrees, its tone determined.

Felicity steps back slightly, giving us space. "Whenever you're ready, just place your hand on the orb."

Apollo steps forward and places its hand on the orb. The room falls silent as we all watch intently, waiting for the orb to respond. Seconds pass, but nothing happens. The orb remains dim, without any hint of light or color change.

Felicity frowns, puzzled. "That's strange. The orb should be reacting." She leans towards the orb and places her own hand on it. Immediately, the orb glows softly with a gentle blue light, indicating a moderate level of magical potential.

She places the orb back on the pedestal and looks at Apollo. "Try again, please."

Apollo places its hand on the orb once more, but again, nothing happens. Felicity's confusion deepens. "I've never encountered anyone without any magical potential before," she muses aloud, clearly baffled.

Thinking quickly, I step in to explain. "Apollo wasn't blessed with magic unfortunately."

Felicity looks at Apollo with a hint of suspicion. "That's very unusual, but every individual is different."

She turns her attention to me. "Alright, your turn, Ryu."

I take a deep breath and place my hand on the orb. Almost immediately, the orb begins to pulsate rather than glow steadily. The light within it throbs rhythmically, shifting through colors in a way that is both mesmerizing and strange.

Felicity's eyes widen in surprise. "I've never seen that before," she admits. "The orb is supposed to measure magical potential, but it's behaving very strangely with you. It seems to be having a hard time identifying your magic."

I look at the orb, then at Felicity. "What does that mean?"

She shakes her head slowly. "I'm not sure. It suggests that you possess some form of magic, but it's unlike anything the orb is designed to measure. It might be a rare type of magic or something entirely unique."

She looks up at me and Apollo, a smile playing on her lips. "You two are certainly an interesting bunch."

With that, she picks up the orb and returns it to the back room. When she comes back, she takes our forms and says, "It will take a short moment to create your identification badges. Please wait here."

As she walks away, I exchange a look with Apollo. This world keeps revealing new mysteries, and I can't help but feel that our journey has only just begun.

Felicity returns, carrying a metal platter with two intricately designed badges. Each badge is crafted from a polished silver metal, with a bronze inlay depicting a detailed emblem of the Adventurers Guild. They have an almost mystical aura, reflecting the light in a way that makes the intricate designs shimmer.

"These are your identification badges," Felicity explains, placing the platter on the counter in front of us. "They serve multiple purposes. First and foremost, they identify you as members of the Adventurers Guild and indicate your current rank. Every time you rank up, you must come back here to get a new badge that reflects your new status."

She hands each of us a badge. "These badges also record your achievements and quests completed. As bronze rank adventurers, you are starting at the entry level, but with time and effort, you'll move up the ranks."

Apollo and I take the badges, hanging them over our chests. They fit comfortably, almost as if they were made specifically for us.

"Welcome, officially, to the Adventurers Guild," Felicity says with a warm smile. "Now, let me explain how guild quests work."

She gestures towards the large board on one side of the hall, covered with various parchments and notices. "Quests are categorized by rank. Bronze, silver, and gold rank quests are posted here on the main floor. Platinum and diamond rank quests are posted on the second floor, but access to that floor is restricted to adventurers below the rank of platinum."

Felicity continues, "Each quest notice provides details about the task, the location, and the reward. To accept a quest, simply take the notice to the reception desk where it will be registered under your name. You must complete the quest and return with proof, if required, to receive your reward and any additional points towards your next rank."

She smiles eagerly as she continues. "It's crucial to only take quests appropriate for your rank. Attempting a quest above your level can lead to severe consequences, including injury or worse. If you fail to complete a quest, you must inform the guild immediately, so they can assign it to another adventurer."

Felicity pauses, ensuring we understand. "In addition to quest regulations, there are rules within the guild hall itself. Respect your fellow adventurers, no fighting within the premises, and always maintain the integrity and honor of the guild. Breaking these rules can result in penalties or expulsion from the guild."

She finishes with a warm smile, "That covers the basics. If you have any questions, feel free to ask me or any of the other staff. Welcome to the Adventurers Guild, Ryu and Apollo. We're excited to see what you'll accomplish."

I nod, absorbing all the information. Apollo stands beside me, its new badge gleaming.

"One more thing about these badges," she adds, holding up a finger for emphasis. "If your badge gets lost, stolen, or damaged, you need to report it to the guild immediately. A replacement badge can be issued, but it comes with a cost. For bronze rank adventurers like yourselves, the replacement fee is five silver pieces. Higher ranks will have higher replacement fees, reflecting the increased value and complexity of the badges."

She looks between us, making sure we understand the importance of keeping our badges safe. "These badges are enchanted with protective spells to make them durable, but they can still be damaged or lost if not taken care of properly. They are your key to accessing guild services and proving your identity, so guard them well."

Apollo and I nod in understanding, appreciating the additional information.

"Welcome to the Adventurers Guild, Ryu and Apollo," she says once more, her smile broadening. "We're excited to see what you'll accomplish. If you have any questions or need further assistance, don't hesitate to ask any of the staff or myself."

As we step away from the counter, I feel a sense of readiness and anticipation. This is the beginning of our journey in Aranthia, and with our new badges hanging proudly over our chests, we're prepared to face whatever challenges come our way.

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

As Apollo and I start scanning the quest board, I notice three adventurers entering the guild hall. They look to be in rough shape, their armor and clothes significantly poorer in quality than our own. I find myself staring at them, trying to place why they look so familiar.

The knight is clad in mismatched, dented metal plates and a rusty helmet that barely fits. His bandaged left arm is a clear sign of a recent, painful injury. His once-proud cloak is tattered and stained, his sword chipped and dull. His shield is a hastily crafted piece of wood bound with iron straps, barely holding together.

The rogue is dressed in patched leather armor that looks like it could fall apart at any moment. His cloak, which might have once been white, is now a dingy gray, torn at the hem and smeared with dirt. His daggers are rusted and dull, their sheaths barely hanging onto his belt.

The mage wears tattered robes that look more like rags. His once-grand hat is crumpled and misshapen, the brim flopping down awkwardly. His staff, previously a symbol of magical prowess, is now chipped and cracked, held together by crude bindings.

As they get closer, recognition dawns on me. These are the same adventurers we encountered in the cave. A thought occurs to me, and I remember them clearly as the trio who ambushed us.

When they get even closer, I quickly turn back to the quest board, pretending to be deeply engrossed in the tasks listed there. Apollo does the same, mimicking my movements. As they pass by, I watch out of the corner of my eye. The guild members around us begin to notice the trio, their condition drawing attention.

"Look at those three," one adventurer remarks, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Did they crawl out of a gutter?"

Another adventurer laughs, "I've seen beggars dressed better than that!"

"Must have lost a fight with a flock of chickens," another chimes in, prompting a round of mocking laughter.

The reception area, normally bustling with activity, quiets down as Felicity starts her usual greeting. Her cheerful demeanor quickly turns to concern when she sees the state of the three adventurers. "Aldric, Talin, Eldrin, what happened to you? Did the golem do that to you?"

Talin, with a weary look, shakes his head. "No, we found nothing in that cave. On our way back, bandits jumped us. They took everything we had except our briefs."

Aldric winces as he shifts his bandaged arm. "They got us good. We didn't stand a chance."

Eldrin nods, looking sullen. "They were too many. We tried to fight them off, but it was no use."

The guild hall erupts in laughter and mockery again. "Gold rank adventurers taken down by bandits!" one adventurer jeers.

"Some heroes," another adds with a sneer.

Aldric's face flushes with anger, his hand clenching into a fist. He takes a step forward, ready to confront the mockers, but Eldrin places a calming hand on his shoulder. "Let it go, Aldric. We need to focus on getting back on our feet."

Felicity's eyes widen with sympathy. "I'm so sorry to hear that. Please, come to the back, and we'll see what we can do to help."

As the three adventurers head out, their story reverberates through the guild hall. The mocking comments die down, replaced by the usual chatter. Apollo and I exchange a quick glance, relief washing over us that our deception held, even as we resume our search for a suitable quest.

After the three adventurers disappear, Apollo and I return to the quest board. I scan through the various notes and spot one within our rank that pays better than the rest. The reward is one silver, and the quest is to eliminate a group of goblins harassing a nearby farming village. I grab the note and bring it to the reception.

Felicity looks up from her desk with a bright smile. "Have you decided on a quest?"

"Yes," I say, handing her the note. "We'd like to take this one."

She takes the note and reads it over. "Ah, the goblin extermination quest. It's straightforward but can be a bit dangerous if you're not prepared. The village has been having issues with goblins raiding their crops and livestock. You'll need to travel there, meet with the village head, and have this mission pamphlet signed by them. As proof of kill, you'll need to bring back the ears of the goblins you eliminate."

I blink at that. "Ears? Why the ears?"

Felicity nods, understanding my confusion. "It's a common practice to ensure the goblins are truly dealt with. Goblins are tricky and can often escape even when you think you've got them cornered. The ears serve as proof that the goblins are actually dead and not just driven off. The guild also pays for monster parts so there's some extra coins to be made from bringing them here."

I nod, accepting the explanation. "Alright, that makes sense."

She smiles again and provides directions to the village. "It's a bit of a trek by foot, but it shouldn't take more than a few days to get there. Just follow the main road east until you reach the fork near the old stone bridge. Take the left path, and it'll lead you straight to the village. The head of the village, Elder Garrick, will be expecting you."

Felicity hands me the mission pamphlet back. "Good luck on your quest and stay safe out there."

"Thank you," I reply, pocketing the pamphlet.

As we leave the guild, I can't help but feel a pang of guilt for the three adventurers. While their condition was necessary to keep our origins a secret, I wonder if there is anything I can do to help them. Apollo notices my silence and asks, "What's wrong, Ryu?"

"I feel bad for those three adventurers," I admit. "It was necessary to deceive them, but I can't shake the feeling that we should do something to make it right. Maybe pay them back the money they lost."

Apollo nods. "We can still do that. Nothing is stopping us from helping them in some way."

I agree, feeling a bit lighter. "You're right. Once we finish this quest, we can find a way to make amends."

With renewed determination, we leave the guild and step out into the bustling city, ready to embark on our first official quest as adventurers.

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

Thanks to the speeder bike, we arrived at the village in just a couple of hours. We had to navigate through the thick foliage of the forest, avoiding the main road to ensure we didn't attract unwanted attention. The dense trees and underbrush made the journey slower than anticipated, but the bike handled it well, weaving through the natural obstacles with ease.

As we break through the last of the forest, the village of Greenhill comes into view. It is a quaint, picturesque settlement nestled in a lush valley, surrounded by rolling fields of crops and grazing livestock. The fields were a vibrant green, filled with various crops and vegetables. The livestock—an assortment of animals I've never seen before—roamed freely, adding to the pastoral charm of the village.

The village itself is composed of small, well-kept cottages with thatched roofs and stone foundations. Smoke rises from the chimneys, hinting at the warm hearths inside. The roads are dirt paths, well-trodden by the villagers going about their daily routines. Flowers and shrubs decorate the front yards of the cottages, and the scent of fresh bread and blooming flowers filled the air. We hide the speeder and approach the village.

We were immediately greeted by the villagers, who seemed both surprised and relieved at our swift arrival. Their faces lit up with gratitude as they approached us, offering smiles and polite gestures. A few children, curious about our arrival, peeked from behind their parents, eyes wide with wonder.

An elderly man steps forward, leaning on a wooden cane. His eyes were bright with relief. "Welcome to Greenhill, travelers. By your appearance I assume you two are the adventurers who have accepted our quest. We didn't expect you to arrive so quickly, but we're grateful for your help."

"Thank you," I reply, nodding politely. "We're here to help with your goblin problem."

The villagers lead us through the heart of the village, towards the town hall. It is a modest building, larger than the surrounding cottages but still quaint. The town hall was constructed of sturdy stone, with a sloping roof and a large wooden door. Ivy climbed the walls, and the windows are adorned with wooden shutters painted a cheerful blue.

As we approach the town hall, I take in the surroundings, noting the peaceful atmosphere despite the recent troubles. The villagers continue to express their gratitude, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of responsibility to help these kind-hearted people.

We step inside the town hall, the interior cool and welcoming. The walls are lined with simple wooden benches, and at the far end of the room stands a large oak desk, where Elder Garrick waits for us. He is a tall, thin man with a kind but weathered face, his eyes showing the wisdom of many years.

"Welcome, adventurers," Elder Garrick says, standing to greet us. "I am Garrick, the Elder of this village. We are grateful for your swift arrival. Please, have a seat, and we can discuss the details of your mission."

As Apollo and I take our seats, I glance around the town hall, absorbing the sense of community and hope that permeates the room. We introduce ourselves to Elder Garrick and await his explanation of their situation.

Elder Garrick takes a deep breath, his expression serious as he begins to explain the situation. "It started a few weeks ago," he says, his voice steady but tinged with worry. "At first, the goblins were just stealing crops from our fields. We thought it was a nuisance, but nothing we couldn't handle. Then they grew bolder."

His eyes darken as he continues. "They began taking our livestock. Chickens, goats, even a few cows. We tried to protect our animals, but the goblins were relentless. But lately... it's gotten worse. They kidnapped one of our own."

The room falls silent as the gravity of the situation sinks in. A villager approaches Apollo and me, offering us something to drink. Apollo politely declines, but I accept, curious about the local beverage. The drink is a dark, frothy liquid, served in a wooden mug. I take a cautious sip, finding the taste bitter and unfamiliar. But after a few more sips, I begin to appreciate its unique flavor, a blend of earthy and slightly sweet notes.

Garrick's expression grows dark, his voice heavy with concern. "The girl they took is Lara. She's my daughter," he says, and the weight of his words hangs heavily in the air. I can see the pain in his eyes, despite his attempts to keep his composure. "She's been missing for two nights now."

I watch him carefully, sensing the deep sorrow and fear he's struggling to contain. He continues, his voice low and filled with grief. "They've grown more violent, more aggressive. We've lost villagers. People taken in the night, and those who try to resist don't survive."

He pauses for a moment, staring down at his hands as they grip the edge of the wooden desk. His knuckles whiten, and I see the trembling tension in them. "Two nights ago, Lara was returning from the fields with a group of farmers. The goblins attacked. They slaughtered the others, left their bodies scattered near the forest." His voice cracks, the pain of a father barely held back. "But Lara... they took her alive."

His eyes meet mine, filled with desperation. "I don't know what they plan to do with her, but I fear the worst. They've never been this bold before, never taken someone like this."

The room feels heavy with silence. Apollo shifts beside me, its mechanical body letting out a soft whir as it moves, the only sound breaking through the tension.

I nod slowly, meeting Garrick's gaze, determined. "We'll bring her back, Elder Garrick," I say, my voice calm but firm. "You have my word."

He pauses, his eyes reflecting a deep sense of responsibility and worry. "I apologize for the low pay for such a dangerous mission," he says, his voice softening. "We wish we could offer more, but our resources are limited."

I shake my head, offering a reassuring smile. "It's alright," I say. "We'll take care of the goblins and bring Lara back safely."

Garrick's eyes shine with gratitude. "Thank you," he says, his voice filled with relief. "Lara means a great deal to this village. She's like family to all of us. The goblins usually come from the forest to the north. They only come out at night, so you'll have to be careful."

I nod, taking another sip of the drink, now finding it quite enjoyable. "We'll head out tonight and see if we can find their camp," I say. "We'll bring Lara back."

Garrick clasps my hand in both of his, his grip firm. "Thank you, truly," he says. "The village is counting on you both."

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

Following the villagers' directions, Apollo and I make our way into the dense forest to the north of the village. Once we're sure no one is watching, I activate my gauntlet, and a hologram map of the world appears before us. The map zooms in until the village and the surrounding forest are displayed. Two white dots represent our location amidst the vast greenery.

I point to the map, indicating to Apollo, "This forest is enormous, but the goblins couldn't have come from too far away for these constant attacks and raids. There must be either a hideout or a cave nearby."

After closing the map, we begin walking through the forest, scanning the ground for any signs of tracks or disturbances in the foliage. The forest is thick with underbrush and towering trees, their branches intertwining to form a dense canopy overhead. The air is cool and damp, filled with the earthy scent of moss and decaying leaves. After a few moments of careful searching, I find what we're looking for.

There are signs of a large number of beings moving hastily through the foliage. Branches are snapped, bushes trampled, and the undergrowth disturbed, indicating a path frequently used. The tracks are clear, leading both towards the village and deeper into the forest.

We follow the trail, moving quietly and cautiously. The forest seems to grow darker and more foreboding as we venture deeper. The sounds of distant animals fill the air, creating an eerie ambiance. Finally, the tracks lead us to the mouth of a cave, partially obscured by thick vines and moss. The entrance is dark and ominous, with jagged rocks forming a natural archway.

Apollo and I exchange a glance before stepping into the cave. As we enter, I activate my gauntlet, emitting a bright, steady light, illuminating the path ahead. The cave walls are damp and covered in patches of luminescent fungi, casting an eerie glow. The ground is uneven, with small stones and debris scattered about. The air grows colder, and the sound of dripping water echoes through the cavern.

We move cautiously, the light from Apollo's photoreceptors guiding our way. The cave seems to stretch endlessly into the darkness, and I can't shake the feeling that we're being watched. As we delve deeper into the cave, a horrible stench washes over me, thick and nauseating. The air is heavy with the smell of decay, a putrid mix of rotting flesh and waste. Each step forward makes the odor more intense, making it difficult to breathe without gagging. Signs of activity become more apparent the farther we go. The cave walls are smeared with crude drawings and symbols, and the floor is littered with bones and animal carcasses, some in various stages of decomposition. The scene is grim and unsettling.

Suddenly, a scream pierces the air, followed by the guttural cries of creatures deeper in the cave. Without hesitation, we rush toward the source of the sound. The path forks in multiple directions, but one opening reveals a large chamber below. As Apollo and I approach the opening to the giant chamber, I can see the faint glow of natural light filtering through a small hole in the ceiling. It casts an eerie, dim illumination over the scene below. Peering down, my eyes widen at the sight.

A sprawling goblin village lies beneath us, a chaotic maze of makeshift huts and tents. The structures are crudely built from wood, bones, and animal hides, huddled together in tight clusters. The natural light only partially illuminates the village, leaving many areas shrouded in shadow. Torches flicker throughout the settlement, their flames casting dancing shadows on the rough stone walls.

Peering through small visors, I see a multitude of small, hunched figures with grotesque, misshapen features. They have greenish skin, sharp teeth, and beady eyes that glint in the dim light. They are chanting loudly, standing before a pillar to which a young woman is chained. Her terrified screams echo through the cavern.

Goblins scurry about, their small, hunched figures barely visible in the dim light. The air is thick with the stench of decay and the sound of guttural voices mingling with the occasional scream from their captive girl. She is chained to a pillar in the center of the village, surrounded by a throng of goblins chanting and jeering at her.

Beside the girl stands a larger creature, its voice booming over the din. "Tonight, the gods will be pleased! When the sun shines the highest above, she will be sacrificed!" The creatures react to her screaming, jeering and howling in response.

"Looks like we've found their lair," I mutter, narrowing my eyes as I focus on the scene below.

Apollo's photoreceptors scan the area. "There are too many of them to take head-on," it comments in a low, calculated voice.

I smirk, dismissing Apollo's concern. "I've been looking forward to a fight like this."

Apollo tilts its head in confusion. "Why would you want to take on so many at once?"

My smirk widens into a grin. "I need to blow off some steam."

Without another word, I leap down into the chamber, deploying smoke rockets from my gauntlet as I descend. The bombs hit the ground, erupting with a hiss and spewing thick clouds of smoke that quickly engulf the goblin village. Chaos erupts as the goblins panic, their cries and shouts echoing through the cavern.

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

The girl trembles, trying to adjust her body against the chains binding her to the stone pillar, her face wracked with sobs. Each gasp for breath is a desperate plea for mercy, a hope that someone, anyone, will come to her rescue. The goblins surround her, their grotesque faces twisted into malicious grins, snarling and cheering as they revel in her terror. She doesn't understand why they chose her, why she is to be sacrificed.

A larger goblin, even more hideous than the rest, steps forward. His twisted smile reveals rows of sharp, yellowed teeth. He brandishes a large, jagged knife, its blade gleaming ominously in the dim light. The goblin grabs her by the throat, his grip tight and painful. She gags, the stench of his vile breath assaulting her senses as he leans in close.

"You'll make a pretty offering," he hisses, bringing the knife closer to her skin.

Suddenly, smoke begins popping up from the ground, quickly engulfing the entire chamber. The big goblin releases her, stepping back in confusion. She falls back, gasping for air and trying to comprehend what's happening. The thick smoke obscures everything around her, and the goblins' confused grunts and snarls fill the air.

As the smoke clears, two figures stand at the center of the chamber. One is a tall, imposing knight clad in dark armor, his eyes glowing faintly beneath the helmet. The other is a cloaked figure, their face hidden beneath a shadowy hood, a black cloak draped over their form. For a moment, hope surges within her. Maybe they are here to save her. But then she notices the hundreds of goblins surrounding them, snarling and laughing.

The large goblin's laughter rings out, mocking and cruel. "Brave fools, coming here to die!" he sneers.

His laughter is abruptly cut short as the cloaked figure flicks their wrist. The goblin drops dead, a throwing knife embedded in his eye. The other goblins recoil in shock, momentarily stunned.

The cloaked figure and the knight draw their swords. The girl cries out to them, her voice trembling with fear. "You need to run! There are too many of them!"

To her astonishment, the cloaked figure turns to the knight. "Would you like to have a contest?" he asks, his voice calm and almost playful.

The knight responds, "What kind?"

"Whoever kills the most goblins wins," the cloaked figure replies.

She is baffled. How could they be playing games when they are surrounded by a horde of goblins? But there's no time to question their sanity. The knight agrees, and together they face the goblins, ready for battle.

The goblins snarl and lunge forward, their crude weapons raised high. The tall knight moves first, his armor gleaming in the dim light. With a powerful swing of his massive sword, he cleaves through the first wave of attackers. The blade slices through goblin flesh with ease, severing limbs and heads in a swift, deadly arc. The knight's movements are fluid and precise, each strike delivering fatal blows. His gaze scan the battlefield, calculating and adapting to the chaos around him.

Beside him, the cloaked figure moves with incredible speed and agility. The black cloak flutters as he dodges and weaves through the oncoming goblins. His sword flashes, catching the dim light as it cuts through the air. He is a whirlwind of deadly grace, each strike landing with pinpoint accuracy. One goblin falls with a clean cut to the neck, another with a swift stab to the heart. The cloaked figure's movements are almost a dance, a deadly ballet that leaves a trail of dead goblins in its wake.

The girl watches in awe, her terror momentarily forgotten. The two figures fight with a level of skill and precision she has never seen before. The knight's powerful strikes contrast with the cloaked figure's swift, elegant movements. Together, they are unstoppable.

A particularly large goblin charges at the knight, swinging a heavy club. The knight blocks the attack with his sword, the force of the blow causing him to take a step back. Undeterred, he swings his sword in a powerful upward arc, slicing the goblin from hip to shoulder. The goblin lets out a gurgling scream before collapsing to the ground, its lifeblood spilling onto the stone floor.

The cloaked figure, meanwhile, faces off against a group of goblins wielding spears. They thrust their weapons at him, trying to corner him, but he is too quick. He sidesteps their attacks with ease, his movements a blur. One goblin lunges too far, and the cloaked figure takes advantage, slashing across its exposed side. Another goblin tries to stab him from behind, but he spins around, his sword cutting through the goblin's neck with a single, fluid motion.

The goblins, realizing they are up against formidable opponents, hesitate. But their numbers give them false confidence, and they press on, hoping to overwhelm the two warriors with sheer force. It is a fatal mistake.

The knight plants his feet firmly, raising his sword high. With a mighty swing, he cleaves through three goblins at once, their bodies falling in a gruesome heap. He turns to another group, blocking their attacks with his great sword before cutting them down with a powerful horizontal strike. Blood sprays across his armor, but he doesn't falter.

The cloaked figure is relentless. He moves like a shadow, his black cloak billowing around him. He parries a goblin's strike, then drives his sword through its chest. Another goblin tries to catch him off guard, but he twists out of the way, slashing across its belly. The goblin falls, clutching its entrails as it dies.

As the battle rages on, the two warriors show no signs of slowing. The knight's heavy strikes crush bones and sever limbs, while the cloaked figure's swift, precise movements leave a trail of dead goblins in his wake. The ground is littered with bodies, the air thick with the stench of blood and death.

The girl's heart pounds in her chest as she watches the knight block a particularly fierce attack, the force of the blow causing his armor to creak. But he recovers quickly, pushing the goblin back with his sword before delivering a killing blow. The cloaked figure is just as impressive, his sword a blur of deadly motion. He dispatches goblin after goblin with ease, his movements graceful and deadly.

Finally, the last of the goblins falls. The knight delivers the finishing blow, his sword cutting through the creature's neck. The goblin's head rolls across the floor, its body crumpling to the ground. The chamber falls silent, save for the heavy breathing of the two warriors. The girl stares at them in awe and relief, her heart still racing from the intensity of the battle.

The girl trembles, her body aching from being chained to the cold stone pillar at the center of the cavern. Her breath comes in shallow gasps, her wrists raw from the iron cuffs biting into her skin. Smoke still hangs in the air from the explosions that brought chaos to the goblin village, swirling around the figures of her saviors—the cloaked one and the knight in dark armor. The knight and the cloaked figure stand amidst the carnage, their swords dripping with goblin blood.

She watches them, trying to make sense of it all. The cloaked figure moves with eerie calm, wiping his sword clean with a cloth pulled from one of the dead goblins. His movements are precise, deliberate. The knight stands over the fallen bodies, his massive frame imposing, his glowing eyes casting a faint light that cuts through the gloom.

"What's your count?" the cloaked man asks, his tone casual, almost as if they were discussing something as mundane as the weather.

The knight answers, "One hundred and forty-two."

The cloaked figure whistles in appreciation, still wiping down his blade. "One hundred and forty-two? That's impressive for a newcomer."

Newcomer? The girl's heart races. A newcomer did all this? Her eyes narrow as she looks at them again, her gaze lingering on the guild badges hanging around their necks—bronze, glinting faintly in the dim light. Her eyes widen. Bronze rank?

Her mind struggles to comprehend it. These two—these incredibly skilled warriors who just decimated an entire goblin village—are only bronze rank? She swallows hard, her throat dry. How?

The cloaked man finishes with his sword and pats the knight's armored shoulder, "Well, I stand pretty at one hundred and forty-three," he says lightly. "Better luck next time."

The knight hesitates, then turns and thrusts its sword into a nearby goblin corpse. The blade sinks into the dead flesh with a sickening squelch.

"One hundred and forty-three," the knight says with pride.

The cloaked man tilts his head. "That goblin was already dead."

The knight's glowing eyes shift toward him. "I saw it twitch."

"It twitched because I had stabbed it in its nervous system," the cloaked figure says, amused. "You, my friend, are a sore loser."

The knight lets out a scoff in response, slightly shaking his head in defeat.

The girl can't believe what she's witnessing—two adventurers standing in the middle of a battlefield, surrounded by the corpses of goblins, joking like they're in a tavern. How can they be so at ease after all this?

Her heart pounds in her chest, confusion and awe mixing in equal measure. She tries to find her voice, her throat tight. After a long pause, she finally musters enough courage to speak, her voice trembling. "E-excuse me?"

Both figures turn toward her in unison, their banter falling silent. The cloaked man's face is completely obscured by a shadowy void, despite the light. The knight straightens, its glowing eyes fixed on her, towering like a statue of cold, dark metal.

The girl is thankful, but inside, her mind is racing. They had saved her life, but she now realizes that there's so much more to them—more than their ranks, more than their strange camaraderie. These adventurers, with their banter and their terrifying skill, are something far beyond what she ever could have expected.

She watches the cloaked figure rush over to her, his movements swift and purposeful. He reaches her in no time, breaking the chains that bind her with a deft flick of his wrist. As the chains fall away, she collapses, her legs giving out beneath her. The cloaked figure catches her, his arms strong yet gentle.

"Are you alright?" the cloaked man asks, his voice gentle now, filled with concern.

She nods weakly, still dazed from the ordeal. "Yes, I think so," she manages to say, her voice barely above a whisper.

He helps her sit down on the cold stone floor, offering her a drink from his water pouch. She takes a grateful sip, feeling the cool water soothe her parched throat. As she drinks, her eyes wander to the knight, who is busy cutting off the ears of the fallen goblins. The sight makes her spit out the water and shriek in horror.

The cloaked figure quickly turns back to her, his expression apologetic. "I'm sorry about that," he says softly. "It's necessary for the guild."

She tries to calm her racing heart, focusing on his reassuring presence. "Are you the missing girl, Lara?" he asks gently.

She nods, tears welling up in her eyes as the reality of her near-death experience begins to sink in. "Yes, I am," she confirms.

The cloaked figure steps forward, his tone softens, becoming almost soothing as he speaks. "I'm Ryu, and this is Apollo," he says, gesturing toward the towering knight beside him.

Hearing his calm voice, something inside Lara finally snaps. Relief washes over her like a wave, and the fear she's been holding in for so long breaks free. Tears spill down her cheeks as she sobs, her body trembling uncontrollably. Without thinking, she throws herself into Ryu's arms, wrapping her thin arms around him and clinging tightly.

"Thank you... thank you..." she cries, her voice shaking. "I thought... I thought I was going to die."

Ryu, caught off guard by the sudden embrace, hesitates for a moment before gently patting her back, his touch awkward but kind. He isn't used to this—comforting others—but he does his best. "It's alright. You're safe now," he says, his voice steady. "We've got you."

Lara's sobs continue for a few moments, muffled against Ryu's cloak. He stands there, patient, waiting for her to calm down, his hand still resting gently on her back. Apollo watches quietly, its glowing eyes flickering as if contemplating the scene before it.

Eventually, Lara pulls back slightly, sniffling, her tear-streaked face red from crying. She looks up at Ryu with wide, grateful eyes. "I don't know how to thank you," she whispers, her voice hoarse.

Ryu gives her a small, reassuring smile. "You don't have to thank us. I'm just glad we got here in time."

He tilts his head slightly, studying her. "Can you move? Are you hurt?" he asks, concern threading his words.

Lara nods, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "I-I can move," she says, her voice steadier now. "I'm not hurt... just scared."

Ryu pats her shoulder once more, his touch firm but reassuring. "Good. We need to get out of here," he says gently. "But we'll make sure nothing happens to you, alright?"

She nods again, though her legs still feel weak beneath her. Even so, there's a strange comfort in his presence, in the way he speaks with calm confidence. She believes him. She believes they'll make it out.

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

As we make our way back to the village, I reflect on the events that just transpired. Lara, now calm and composed, walks beside me. While I comforted her earlier, Apollo efficiently gathered all the goblin ears, filling a large burlap sack. Apollo now carries it effortlessly, along with several other sacks filled with weapons, armor, and coins we uncovered from the goblin village.

As we emerged from the cave, the sun had started its descent, casting long shadows across the forest floor. The sky is painted with hues of orange and pink, signaling the end of the day. The air is cooler now, a welcome change from the oppressive atmosphere inside the cave.

We continued our journey back to the village, the sound of our footsteps and the rustling of the burlap sacks the only noises breaking the evening stillness. Despite the weight of the sacks, I feel a sense of relief. We had accomplished our mission, and Lara was safe. The village would no longer be terrorized by the goblins, and soon they would see the proof of our success.

As we approached the village, one of the villagers spotted us and immediately called out, "Lara! They've returned with Lara!" The shout echoed through the village, and soon a crowd began to form, rushing towards us with a mixture of relief and curiosity.

Lara's parents are the first to push through the gathering crowd, their faces twisted with both hope and fear. A woman—her mother presumably—rushes forward, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her sobs are heart-wrenching as she falls into Lara's arms, wrapping her daughter in a fierce embrace. Lara, trembling, breaks down as well, her cries mingling with her mothers, their reunion a raw display of love and relief.

I step back, watching the scene unfold, giving them space. Lara's father, Elder Garrick, is not far behind. His eyes are wide with disbelief as he approaches, his steps uncertain at first, as if he can't quite believe what he's seeing. When he reaches them, he too pulls Lara into his arms, his once strong and steady demeanor crumbling as he holds his daughter close.

"You're safe... you're safe," he whispers, his voice choked with emotion, repeating the words like a prayer. His gratitude radiates from him, as if the weight of the world has been lifted from his shoulders. For a long moment, the three of them stand there, wrapped in each other's arms, crying tears of relief.

Villagers gather around, their eyes filled with awe, watching the family's reunion. It's clear to me that Lara is more than just their daughter—she's a symbol of hope for them all.

Elder Garrick eventually pulls back, his hands still resting on Lara's shoulders, his face a mixture of amazement and gratitude. He looks at me, his voice shaking as he speaks. "You did it. You brought her back to us... and so quickly." His words are filled with awe, and I can see the disbelief in his eyes, as if he never expected to see his daughter again.

I nod, offering a faint smile. "We're just glad she's safe."

Lara clings to her parents, tears still streaming down her face, but there's a flicker of peace in her eyes now. She's home. And seeing that... it makes everything worth it.

"The goblins won't be a problem anymore," I say, dropping the bulging sack of goblin ears onto the ground with a dull thud. Apollo follows suit, placing its sacks of gathered spoils beside mine.

A collective gasp ripples through the crowd, whispers spreading like wildfire. The villagers stare at the sacks, eyes wide with disbelief and admiration, murmuring among themselves.

Garrick steps closer, his gaze fixed on the sacks. "What do you mean by 'dealt with'?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

I untie the burlap sack and pull it open, revealing hundreds of severed goblin ears. "I mean," I reply, meeting Garrick's stunned gaze, "the goblins won't be a problem anymore."

His eyes widen even further as he takes in the sight. "You... you really took on this many goblins by yourselves?" he stammers, almost in awe.

Lara steps forward, her voice shaking with gratitude. "Yes, they did. You should have seen them. They fought with such skill and bravery. I've never seen anything like it."

Garrick turns to the villagers, his face breaking into a wide grin. "A feast!" he declares. "Tonight, we celebrate!"

Cheers erupt from the villagers, their voices filled with joy and relief. The sound of their celebration echoes through the village, a symbol of their freedom from fear and the start of a brighter future.

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

Greenhill comes alive with festivity. Music fills the air, the cheerful melodies of flutes, fiddles, and lutes mixing with the crackling of the large fire burning in the center of the square. Several spits turn slowly, cooking golden-brown meats, the savory aroma mingling with the scent of freshly baked bread and herbs. Wooden tables overflow with food, and barrels of ale are tapped, mugs clinking together as laughter and chatter spread through the night.

Garrick sits beside me, his hearty laugh mingling with the lively sounds of the feast. I recount the events of the day to an eager audience, detailing the battle against the goblins in vivid descriptions. The villagers listen intently, their eyes wide with a mix of admiration and relief.

Apollo, meanwhile, isn't with us. It's entertaining the village children, its metallic fingers moving deftly to create intricate shadow puppets against the fire-lit walls. The children's squeals of delight carry across the square, their faces lit with wonder.

I raise my third mug of ale to Garrick, marveling at the quality of the feast. "This is quite the celebration," I remark, savoring the rich, malty flavor of the drink.

Garrick grins, his face flushed with contentment. "All thanks to you and your companion," he says, downing his mug of ale in one long gulp. "You gave us a reason to celebrate."

A villager approaches our table, carrying a small barrel. When I ask about it, Garrick's grin widens. "Ah, this is my specialty brew. I only bring it out on rare occasions." He pours an amber-colored liquid into small cups, handing one to me.

Garrick then clears his throat. "A toast to our heroes!" he declares, his voice booming over the crackling fire. The lively music and chatter that filled the air only moments ago fade as everyone turns their attention toward him. The entire village falls silent, all eyes on the elder as he stands tall, raising his cup high.

"My friends," Garrick begins, his voice filled with emotion, "tonight, we celebrate not just the return of my daughter, Lara, but the courage and valor of two individuals who made it possible." He gestures to me, and then his gaze shifts toward Apollo, who stands across the square near the children. "These brave souls—Ryu and Apollo—have not only saved Lara, but they have rid us of the goblins who terrorized our village. Thanks to them, Greenhill can once again sleep in peace."

He pauses, letting his words sink in. "For weeks, we lived in fear, not knowing when or where the goblins would strike next. But now... thanks to these two adventurers, that fear is gone. They risked their lives to bring back my daughter safely and end the goblin threat once and for all."

There's a wave of murmurs and whispers among the villagers, their faces lit with admiration. Garrick turns to me, his eyes filled with gratitude. "Ryu, we owe you more than we could ever repay. You brought my daughter back. You brought hope back to our village." His gaze then shifts to Apollo. "And to your companion, Apollo, who has shown such kindness to our children tonight."

The villagers follow his gaze, clapping and cheering for Apollo, who remains near the children, casting intricate shadow puppets against the wall.

Garrick leans in closer to me, lowering his voice so only I can hear. "Are you sure Apollo doesn't want to join us for the festivities? The way he's been with the children—he seems like he'd enjoy it."

I give him a small smile and shake my head. "Apollo prefers to keep a low profile. He's always been more comfortable in the background, doing what needs to be done rather than joining in on celebrations. It's just who he is."

Garrick chuckles warmly, patting my shoulder. "I see. Well, you both are remarkable men, I'll give you that."

He turns back to the crowd, raising his cup once more. "Now, let's all raise our glasses to Ryu and Apollo, the heroes of Greenhill!"

I lift my own cup as the villagers echo his words, their voices rising in unison. "To Ryu and Apollo!" The cheers echo across the village, their gratitude palpable in the air.

I take a sip of the brew, its warmth spreading through my chest, the mix of spices and honey leaving a lingering sweetness. The strength of the drink makes me cough slightly, causing Garrick to laugh heartily beside me.

"It's strong," I admit, wiping the edge of my mouth as the drink settles.

"It'll put hair on your chest, lad," Garrick jokes, downing his own cup with ease. "But you've earned it, every drop."

His expression turns serious as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a silver coin. "I must thank you again," he says earnestly. "You've done a great thing for Greenhill, and for my family. I'm sorry we can't offer more as payment." He holds the coin out to me, his face lined with concern.

I shake my head, gently pushing his hand back. "The goblin ears and a share of the coins we found will suffice. Consider the weapons and armor left behind as our donation to your village. They're too heavy for us to carry."

Garrick looks puzzled for a moment but doesn't press the matter. Instead, he raises his cup again. "To you and your companion, then. May your journey be safe and your path always clear."

We drink, the warmth of the brew spreading through me, making me feel even more connected to these people. Garrick's expression softens into one of deep gratitude, and I can see the relief in his eyes as the weight of the goblin threat finally lifts from his shoulders. The night continues with more laughter, music, and stories as the village of Greenhill celebrates its newfound peace.

Lara is seated nearby, her mother doting on her, making sure she is comfortable and well-fed. Her face is still pale from her ordeal, but there's a small, tired smile on her lips as she takes in the joyous celebration. Occasionally, she glances over at me, and then at Apollo, her eyes filled with gratitude that she is home, safe and sound.

Villagers approach our table throughout the night, offering heartfelt thanks. An elderly woman hands me a bouquet of flowers, her eyes moist with tears of relief. A young boy shyly offers Apollo a small carved wooden figure, which Apollo accepts with a nod of thanks. To the villagers, Apollo is a man—a knight who fought to protect them—and I keep up that appearance, allowing them to believe in the persona we've created.

Garrick and I dig into the feast, the food a perfect reflection of the village's gratitude. The meat, seasoned with care, is tender and full of flavor. The bread is warm, and the vegetables are roasted to perfection. Every bite feels like a tribute to the relief that now flows through the village.

As we eat, Garrick looks at me curiously, noticing how my face remains cloaked in shadow, even in the bright light of the fire. He raises an eyebrow, leaning in slightly. "Is there a reason you keep your face hidden, even in such bright light?"

I chuckle, offering a quick, practiced excuse. "Old habits die hard. I've been in enough dangerous situations to know that keeping a low profile is often the safest approach."

Garrick laughs heartily at that, clinking his mug against mine. "Fair enough! To each their own, I suppose."

A little while later, Lara approaches our table, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Her voice trembles, thick with emotion as she speaks. "I don't even have the words to express my gratitude," she says, her voice catching in her throat. "You both... you didn't just save my life—you gave me a second chance. Thank you."

I smile, raising my cup in acknowledgment. "Just doing our job," I say, trying to downplay our actions, though her gratitude strikes deep. It's a reminder of why we fight, and why I must continue to protect those who cannot protect themselves.

As the night stretches on, the music grows louder, the laughter even more boisterous. Apollo, ever the quiet presence, continues to entertain the children, now dancing around him, their faces glowing with happiness. Watching them brings a rare smile to my face, a fleeting moment of peace that settles over me.

The feast carries on long into the night, with stories of bravery and relief shared around the fire. The villagers' appreciation is palpable, their joy infectious. For a moment, I allow myself to believe that maybe, just maybe, I could find a place in this new world, a place where I'm not constantly looking over my shoulder, a place where I can live freely.