Wales left the temple after his long meeting. He walked tiredly down the marble steps towards the street, and a voice called out from behind.

“Good luck!” Wales turned to see the temple official waving at him, and smiling. His purple robes flowed in the slight breeze, and he showed off his ornate staff proudly. The carved red dragon encircled what Wales assumed was probably a thin iron cylinder, holding a glowing green sphere in its mouth. Supposedly, the higher level temple officials received magical trinkets which enabled them to preordain potential threats, or cast various spells. Wales assumed that staff indicated that the man he’d just met with was somebody of great importance, though he hadn’t received a name.

He sighed, waving in response, and setting off towards the city’s gate once again. I guess my life is destined to be on the road, hunting down monsters, and retrieving lost parties…

His contract came with a blessing, however, which noted that upon completion, Wales would receive ten thousand Fakar, which was enough to buy himself a small estate… and then some! On top of that, the official had given him a small bag of black powder, which Wales recognized was summoning dust. If he used this dust specifically, he would be able to forcefully summon a specific entity: the king’s favorite.

All of this had been given to Wales under contract through the temple because apparently the king didn’t want to cause news to spread about his possibly missing son. Sure, Wales didn’t mind being seen as one of the few competent adventurers around, and he liked the benefits, such as having one of those terrifying cat demons at his beck and call, but Wales was having cold feet about this mission. If they gave him such a powerful summon up front, they must really be worried about the prince, right? And that means that he probably isn’t just on one of his neighboring kingdom love-romps. He was missing. He was gone.

And Wales figured that out because he knew the king kept eyes on people he wanted to at all times, with or without their permission. Wales, being rather competent at sneak and sneak-discovery, had once captured and unmasked a man in green who’d been following him through the woods for days. And that man had told him that he meant no harm; he was simply a spy for the king, who wanted updates about Wales’ hunt for the hydra.

Most adventurers wouldn’t know about these sort of events. Probably only the good ones. And it didn’t particularly bother the hero, since the king had only done it to him once. But the fact that the temple official had given Wales the mission was the most obvious warning sign. When Wales had been contracted to slay the hydra, it had come from the king, because it was a well-known national threat.

But this time, the mission had come through the temple. The temple connected to the king, which just so happened to be asking Wales to locate a potentially missing prince. The only time a mission of that gravity would come through a third-party would be when the real deliverer of the quest didn’t want anybody else to know about it.

But the hero’s inner pondering and sense of anxiety were interrupted by his arrival in front of a huge stone building with only a large, worn, black oak door. A single golden ring hung down the center of the door, and there was no handle with which to open it. Scratches and chips peppered the door’s smooth, glossy black. People had tried to hack their way in before.

He knocked thrice. He waited. He knocked once more, harder.

A knocking returned itself through from the other side, warrior’s code. It signalled a few letters, forming a question: W-H-O-K-N-O-C-K-S. Wales responded by tapping back his name. A few seconds passed, and then Wales could hear the familiar clanking associated with the opening of the heavy door. It slid open, and Wales could see a tall, burly man with a huge red beard grinning from inside.

“Wales!” Bermund shouted, grasping the smaller man in a bear hug, and nearly squeezing the life from him. “Welcome back, friend! How long will you be staying?” He set the hero down, who proceeded to pat himself down, making sure none of his rare items had been crushed.

“I’ll only be here for an hour.” Wales responded, blinking his bleary eyes. “I’ve got another mission to head out on. I’m sure I’ll have some time after this one to stay and have a drink.”

“Nonsense,” the establishment’s bouncer responded. “You’ll stay and have drinks with Harold and I.” Wales shook his head, unable to help himself from smiling at the man’s unyielding personality.

“Actually, I’m here to see Karla.” The hero responded. “But I’ll tell you what. If she refuses what I’m about to ask her, I’ll hang around and have a few drinks with you guys.” Bermund smiled, and moved aside to let the man by, knowing he’d probably won.

Wales surveyed the inside of the building. The bar and club was restricted to any high-tier adventurer, as well as respected patrons or wealthy nobles, so Wales was no longer a celebrity. There was also an unspoken rule stating that anybody who wasn’t a member of the club was allowed in, providing they could somehow gain access. Any person able to make his way into this place was more than good enough to stay. In here, he was just as good as everyone else, and sometimes, it was nice to be treated as such.

Wales spotted the person he knew would be here at the bar. She was dressed in her typical adventurer’s gear, having probably just gotten back from a mission, herself. Her firey-red cloak concealed most of it, but Wales could make out her signature hawk feather vest, which helped to break up her shape underneath. And her red boots shone in the torchlight, glowing like hot embers. Wales approached the ranger, squeezing his way between tables and chairs.

“Karla!” He shouted, spreading his arms wide. The raven-haired beauty swung her face towards him. She smirked, pushing a hair out of her face.

“Come to lose another bet?” She taunted. “What are we hunting this time? Greater salamanders?”

Wales chuckled, then shook his head. “No thanks, Karla. I only just got my hands on all this Fakar. I have to save up! Can’t be losing it. Speaking of which…” He leaned in to whisper to her as he finally made his way to the chair beside her. “How would you like to make ten thousand?”

Her eyes went wide, and she smiled as though he’d asked if she wanted to marry the king. “Ten thousand? Ha! There’s no way you can get that much. You’re being scammed.” She turned to Al, the friendly bartender, and asked for another drink.

Wales chuckled again. “I highly doubt a temple official who’s important enough to carry an enchanted staff would need to scam me.” Karla turned back to him slowly.

“You’re saying that… A temple official contracted you for ten thousand Fakar? What do they want you to kill? A dragon?!? Wales, listen. I know you killed that hydra by yourself, but I don’t think you and I can kill a dragon. We’ll be burned to a crisp!” She shook her head, sighing.

Wales bled the vein to the shark.

“Of course not. Nothing so strong. I’ve just been contracted to find somebody, and if you help, they’ll pay you the same amount.” Karla, the ranger, looked at him inquisitively.

“A locator quest? Why so much money for something so simple?” And Wales smiled, knowing she would love the next twelve words to leave his mouth.

“Because the prince is missing, and they think near a low-tier dungeon.”