“Hey. You awake in there?” one of the builders called to her from outside the tent. “No? Okay. Well… hope you wake up before it gets cold.” A hand slipped through the flap of the tent, depositing a simple clay bowl full of stew. The heavy scent of meat and herbs filled the tiny space in an instant.

“She still sleeping? We sure she’s not dead in there?” another voice questioned.

“Eh… She sets the empty bowls of food outside her tent, so… Just hope she’s all right.” His voice was dripping with pity, and it was all she could do to not shout at the pair — make them both leave her alone.

She didn’t, of course. Her issues were hardly their fault, and on top of that, then they’d know she wasn’t actually asleep.

Plus, she really did appreciate that they brought her food, if for no other reason than her not having to leave to get it herself.

So in the end, she just remained silent until the sound of footsteps retreated, and she was alone once more. Stomach rumbling, she crawled out of her makeshift bed and grabbed the bowl, slurping the food down almost mechanically.

Even if she wasn’t quite in the mood to appreciate it, she knew the food was shockingly excellent given the venue. It was perhaps the singular good thing in her life right now.

Indeed, Nadja had been having a pretty shitty month.

Pretty shitty life, really.

Despite herself, she chuckled bitterly at the thought.

Nadja’s position in the Thieves Guild had always been a tenuous one. She was no super thief: quite the opposite actually. Her involvement with the guild had started when she was much, much younger, right after the first and only time she’d attempted to pickpocket someone.

As it so happened, the person she’d been trying to steal from was a member of the guild. As it also so happened, Nadja was horribly, wildly terrible at being a pickpocket. She’d bungled the attempt so miserably that instead of getting angry at her, both the guy and his friends just laughed their asses off instead.

From that day forward, she’d been taken in by the guild, although she’d always gotten the sense it was more as a pity project than anything else.

As she grew up and started leveling, the guild convinced her to put her points into Charisma. It wasn’t common, but in the end it was a matter of pragmatism: She clearly wasn’t cut out to be a Thief, and while she’d been born with an 11 in Charisma, her Strength sat at a 9. Her spellcasting stats were fine, but the guild was hardly going to waste spellbooks on her.

Still, there wasn’t much for a kid with high Charisma to do in a Thieves Guild. They’d gotten her some training in various instruments, if for no other reason than that it was nice to have someone around who could play a good tune, but for those first few years, she’d felt more like everyone’s favorite pet than she had a real member.

She knew, objectively, that it could have been much worse. They’d kept her fed. They helped her learn skills and level up. And despite pushing her towards a Charisma build, even when she was much older, they’d never once, in all her time in the guild, suggested that she help them out in… that particular sort of way.

Still, for most of her life, Nadja couldn’t say that she’d been particularly happy.

And that’s the worst part. That was finally starting to change, wasn’t it?

Because, as it turned out, once she was old enough, there were a few things that someone like her could do. When the guild expanded their operations and managed to acquire a few public-facing businesses as covers, who better to work at one than her?

It wasn’t her dream or anything like that, but over the years she’d come to enjoy working as the guild’s bartender. She managed to save up enough for a small place of her own. Had a few flings that didn’t end up going anywhere. Not the best life in the world, but a life.

So when the guild had gotten its hands on the scepter and offered her a class, she said yes. Strictly speaking, it was a miracle of sorts: It was incredibly rare for someone her age to have a class in Ftheran, and it could open all sorts of doors for her.

At the same time, it was a bitter miracle. Right up until the day she’d used that damned scepter, she’d still entertained ideas of grabbing some amazing class and going off on an adventure.

Real life, however, came calling for her.

Maybe being a Bartender wasn’t the most exciting thing in the world, but at least it was something steady, wasn’t it? She remembered being at least content with the fact that they’d certainly never replace her if she took the class.

Which was why it all came as an extra slap to the face when everything went down.

She’d only had the damned class for one day before it became useless!

If I ever see that girl again, I’m going to kill her. She meant it, too.

She’d really liked Tess, truth be told. The woman reminded her in some sad way of the life she wanted to be living. If nothing else, it was nice chatting with her just to live vicariously through her by hearing some of her stories.

Probably most of what she told me was a giant lie, of course. She’d been tricked. Likely from the very beginning, too. Picked out as the weakest link, and used. Then, once Tess had finally gotten what she wanted, the double-faced traitor had knocked her out and left her there.

Worst of all, she wasn’t even sure why. Certainly those rumors about her being some sort of Protagonist were ludicrous — she’d seen it for herself when Tess had gotten her class, and while it was embarrassing looking back on it, she had felt Tess’s body change. On top of that, if Temrin was to be believed, she barely managed to beat him.

It was frankly all very confusing, but she hadn’t had much time to dwell on it.

Needless to say, the guild was not happy with her. If not for all the time she’d spent with them, her punishment likely would have been considerably worse. Even so, she essentially became a pariah overnight.

On top of losing her job and her place in the community she’d been a part of for over two decades, she was also a level 9 with a class. While people with good identification abilities were fairly rare, if she were found out, she’d be in more than a small amount of trouble, all without the protection of the guild to back her up.

So when the king announced that there was some strange expedition taking place and that all citizens were welcome to join it, she rolled the dice. Yes, it was apparently to the deadlands. Yes, she’d be abandoning her apartment to go live in a tent.

But at least she’d escape it all.

After losing her job, the fact that food was provided was hardly lost on her either.

None of that, however, meant that she was in a good mood. Truth be told, it was quite the opposite: Nadja was in a slump.

She’d barely talked to anyone on the entire trip, and now that they’d arrived, she barely left her tent. She was half convinced that the only reason she’d managed to snag one of the few single-person tents was because no one wanted to have to live with her palpable aura of doom and gloom.

Well, that and probably the Charisma didn’t hurt. She found that people were notably nicer to her these days, which perhaps explained why those fools kept bringing her food each day and checking up on her.

Or they’re just nice people. Could be that too.

She finished the stew, and for a moment, Nadja considered returning the empty bowl, or even just taking a walk.

Nope. Not today, she decided. She pushed the empty bowl out of her tent and bundled herself up once more.

Maybe later.

For the first time in quite a while, Nadja was full of energy. She spent said energy pacing around her tent with a scowl.

One of her “caretakers,” as she was beginning to think of them as, had just stopped by and had caught her up on the local news in an effort to coax her out of her tent.

It had almost worked too: If the man was to be believed, they’d apparently built a bathhouse in this godforsaken place. The idea of having a nice bath, coupled with the sheer absurdity of the thing, had nearly convinced her to emerge from her tent for once.

Then he’d told her the other news. In a few weeks, they’d be joined by a larger group from Drawgin.

If she recalled correctly, someone had told her not too long ago that they were headed to Drawgin. Someone she had no desire to see right now.

There’s no chance that she’d actually come here, is there? She paced and she paced, anger and nervous energy building up in equal parts.

Bit by bit, they subsided. Of course Tess wouldn’t be coming here. Even if she’d left shortly after stealing the scepter, the journey to Drawgin was a long one. Why would she travel all the way there just to head back out again immediately?

On top of that, there was hardly any reason to believe she’d actually gone to Drawgin in the first place. Considering what else Tess had lied about, why believe she’d gone to Drawgin at all?

It wouldn’t make sense for her to come here, Nadja decided. It was fine.

And besides, if she did, all the better for Nadja to get some well-deserved revenge. It was fine.

“Agh! This tent is too small!” It was frustratingly hard to have a good nervous pace in a tent, she realized, and so at last Nadja burst out from her tent and ventured outside.

While she was finally out, however, that notably did not mean she wanted to get bogged down in conversation. Before any well meaning Ftheranites could pin her down, she escaped the encampment and started to wander off.

Damn… This place really is gloomy, huh.

It was fitting for her mood, in a way, but she found the atmosphere starting to grate on her. The dilapidated ruins hit too close to home, reminding her of the shambles her life was in and the city that felt lost to her now.

Bathhouse, maybe? No. Probably too crowded. The forest then?

Forests were supposed to be calming, right? She hadn’t had much of a chance to explore nature back in Ftheran, but she’d read stories, and she imagined it would be similar to the park. A peaceful walk surrounded by some trees certainly sounded better than getting lost within the husk of an ancient city.

Mind made up, she turned towards the treeline. While the builders’ camp wasn’t flush with the forest, it was fairly close, and the sea of trees was clearly visible from where she stood. A short walk later, she reached it and immediately reconsidered her decision.

A leisurely stroll through the woods to blow off some steam was one thing. What she’d failed to account for, however, was the freaky black veins on all of the trees, coupled with the imposing aura the forest released under the dusky sky.

Okay. Maybe I’ll just head back…

She turned around to leave, making it a couple steps forward before stopping.

And do what?

Go back to her tent and wallow some more?

Plus, why are you even being a baby about this? The forest is right near the camp. If it was actually dangerous, something would have happened by now. Hells, those shadow guys even live in there. You can take a damn walk without pissing your pants.

Maybe her life sucked right now, but she was in control of it. She wasn’t going to be scared of some damned trees.

Having made up her mind, she turned around once more and ventured out into the forest.

Despite her resolve, she spent the first few minutes of her walk high strung and waiting for something to prove the more rational side of her correct. As nothing leapt out at her, however, she calmed down a bit and realized that — if you could get past some of the spookiness — the forest really was pretty calming. Traveling through it was like taking a moonlit stroll through a garden, only more primal, more free.

Just as she was finally starting to embrace her surroundings, however, a voice called out from directly behind her, causing her to jump with a yelp.

“Hello child. Taking a stroll?” It was an airy voice, likely a calming one under different circumstances. Nadja spun around coming face to face with a woman who, for lack of better words, seemed to be made from plants.

“Um, hi?” she stuttered out.

Is this a dryad? Am I talking to a dryad?

On second thought, she did recall one of her caretakers mentioning something about a dryad at the bathhouse, but that little fact had been mentally buried away after the news about Drawgin.

What a dryad could possibly want with her, however, she wasn’t sure. Hopefully she wasn’t accidentally trespassing into the dryad’s home or something like that.

“Mm. An interesting bracelet you have there. Mind if I take a look?” the dryad hummed.

My bracelet? Nadja quickly shifted from confusion to bitter anger to understanding. It just had to be something to do with her. But didn’t the description say something about the wood having a dryad’s mana in it?

That explained the interest, at least. It was probably from some distant cousin of the forest nymph before her. Briefly, Nadja entertained the idea that the wood had come from this dryad, but she dismissed it as fast as it entered her mind: Tess had certainly been a liar, but Nadja assumed she would have mentioned if her run in with the dryad had taken place in the middle of the deadlands, in a darkened forest like this.

Nadja didn’t know much about dryads, but it was well known that they couldn’t leave their own forests. Likely this one had been in these woods for decades or centuries or however long forest nymphs lived for.

Regardless of the truth of the matter, Nadja wasn’t about to deny the woman. With a mute nod, she raised her arm, letting the dryad examine the bracelet more closely.

“Interesting. A crude use of the mana, but serviceable. These enchantments…” The dryad turned her attention from the bracelet to Nadja, studying her intently for a few tense seconds. “A Bartender then?”

Had she been able to guess that from the bracelet, or was the dryad actually able to see her class? In the end, it hardly mattered though. She was right, after all, although Nadja couldn’t imagine anything coming of it. She confirmed the guess with another nod.

“Hm,” was all that the forest nymph said in response. She continued to study the Bartender, giving Nadja the eerie sense that her soul was being peered into. “Fortuitous. Come. You will work for me.”

What? What use could a dryad possibly have for her? Was she about to be kidnapped and used in some awful forest ritual or become some forest nymph servant? The sheer shock of it helped her to find her tongue.

“Sorry. Work for you? Doing what?”

The dryad grinned, wooden dimples forming on her green face. “As it so happens, I’m in the process of opening a bar.”

Two weeks later, Nadja’s mood had brightened considerably. After all, why wouldn’t it have? She was going to be a bartender at a bar owned by a dryad.

Despite the construction of the bar seeming to take ages, the days themselves had passed in a heartbeat. For all the dryad’s — Elphaea, apparently — enthusiasm, it seemed she knew scant little about running a bar or keeping it stocked. Nadja had thus been talking with her frequently concerning what would be needed, and at one point she’d even gone into the builders’ camp to see if anyone could help her make some moonshine.

On the plus side, moonshine wouldn’t be the only thing on the menu. She still wasn’t sure exactly how she felt about it, but apparently Elphaea could grow wine.

Does that count as drinking her blood, or… Actually, I don’t want to know.

Sure, the selection was still pretty minimal, and the clientele was just as limited, but it was something! And on top of that, once the folks from Drawgin came to the bar, they’d surely have amazing stories to share, far better than the ones that Tess had tricked her with.

Presently, Nadja stood alongside Elphaea in the clearing where the bar was being built. They waited impatiently, until at last, they witnessed the builders all let out a hoop of joy.

It was complete! She was a bartender again!

She practically ran inside, appreciating her new workplace in all of its finished glory. The thieves had, in all fairness, had impeccable stylistic tastes, but the dryad’s bar eclipsed it easily. There was even a second floor that was open to the sky! Admittedly, the sky was sort of creepy, but still!

At the four corners of the room stood thick tree trunks, and out of one of these emerged Elphaea.

“An acceptable workplace, young one?”

The location wasn’t exactly her first choice, to be fair, but right then, that didn’t matter in the least bit. “Very,” she replied.

“Good. Then I believe the builders could use a drink of some sort, yes?” The finishing touches had largely been on the exterior and the second floor, so the booze had already been brought into the building. It sat in large clay jugs on wooden shelves behind the bar, ready to be opened for the first time.

Well. Second time. Might have had a little already to kick things off, but not really the point.

Nadja beamed back at the dryad and readily agreed before an errant thought struck her. “By the way, what do you want me to do with the money?”

Elphaea’s ferned brows arched upwards as if faced with a completely novel surprise. “You mean the coinage you all seem so fond of? I have no use for such a thing. Do with it as you will.”

Nadja’s brows quickly matched those of the dryad’s, though admittedly less fern-like. Elphaea was just giving her all the money? What? Sure, it wasn’t like there was really much to buy around here, but still.

Any questions she might have had were cut off by the appearance of the builders in mass. They clamored in, noisily chatting and laughing with one another as they took seats at the bar.

And so, Nadja slid back into her bartender role just like that. At some point, Elphaea disappeared, leaving her behind the bar by herself, but she hardly minded. She was back in her element, so to speak.

She served all of them, and along the way drank a fair bit herself. Truthfully, she normally would have held back a bit more while she was on the job, but it had been weeks since she’d last drank, and gods only knew how much she needed one as of late.

At some point, the builders turned to their foreman and began chanting for him to make a toast. Reluctantly, he appeased them, hopping up onto the bar and delivering a few words about unexpected opportunities and the pleasant twists and turns life can take. His toast, though brief, was met with approval and cheers from the rest of the group.

Nadja assumed that would be the last of it, but before the foreman descended, he turned to her. “And one from the bartender! We just built the damned thing — she’s actually working in it! Hells, from the sounds of it, we wouldn’t have much to drink without her, either.”

It was an unexpected turn, but she didn’t resist as the man pulled her up onto the bar. What was she supposed to even toast to though? So much had happened in the past few months, both good and bad. Mostly bad, but hey.

After a moment of thought, however, the words came easily: Sure, plenty parts of her life sucked right now, but she’d managed to escape it all. She could leave all the suckage behind her. In that moment, as she fully realized that, she felt a sense of peace.

“To new beginnings and fresh starts!” she yelled, a chorus of cheers following her words. “To having this moment where all of our problems — all the shit in our lives and the people we don’t want to see — are cut off from us by miles and miles of blight-cursed wasteland. A moment where we can have a nice, strong drink, and truly esca-”

A group of newcomers chose that moment to enter the bar, and Nadja’s eyes rolled over them until-

She froze, her toast cut off mid sentence. She blinked, and then, not trusting her eyesight, she blinked again.

The object of her focus spotted her as well, deciding at that moment to open her mouth.

“Huh,” she offered.

As everything finally clicked, Nadja was just a touch more vocal.

Brandishing her tankard like a weapon, she leapt off the bar towards the foul woman, screaming as she went.

“I’LL KILL YOU!”

Her goal, however, gave way to reality as the startled woman easily sidestepped her clumsy lunge.

Of course she did. She was fast enough to keep up with Temrin.

Before Nadja could regain her balance, the woman sped out of the bar without a word. Nadja gave chase, knowing it was futile, but not caring in the slightest.

“Coward!” Moonshine sloshed around wildly as she ran with the wooden tankard.

Even if Nadja was too slow to catch up, she was prepared to keep at it for however long it took. Before she could take another step, however, thick roots shot out from the ground, entangling her legs and causing her to come to a lurching stop.

She turned, catching sight of one particular dryad sporting a disapproving frown.

“I take it you’re acquainted with the settlement owner, then?”

It took a few seconds for the words to fully compute, but once they did, a sense of dread washed over her.

The settlement owner?

Nadja groaned.

What a shitty month.