"It says here Mrs. Isalda's house is just outside the market district," Ylva said. Second in line from Hector, she held the scroll out in front of her with both hands, eyes pouring over its contents.

"Market district, huh? Where's that supposed to be?" Calvin said from behind her.

"I have no idea."

"I wish I remembered Matt's description of this place." Brian looked around Calvin's shoulder to address Ylva, who remained glued to the scroll.

"Who's Matt?" Tiffany asked from her spot at the back of the train.

"Basically God," Ylva said.

"...I can't tell if you're kidding," Tiffany said after a moment.

"I am," Ylva said.

They walked in a single file line down what Brian assumed as a back street. Buildings dotted the landscape on both sides of the narrow street, constructions of mostly wood and stone, the majority of them in decent condition. They were unlabeled and plain, which led him to believe this to be sort of residential district.

Some had awnings, and some didn't. A few had glass in their windows, though most relied on shutters to keep the heat in. Brian looked in a few open windows whenever his curiosity overrode his sense of decency. He saw a portly woman stirring a big iron pot. He saw a gruff looking gray hound sitting on a bed, patiently awaiting the return of its master. Through one window a short, stout man shined a withering pair of black shoes. In another, a pretty young girl strummed idly at a harp. In another still, a man sorted fruit in his larder, discarding a black marked orange.

It had rained recently, within the past day or two. Pockets of mud sprung up from the dirt road, at random intervals, though it was mostly dry dust. It noticed it sticking to the scales on his schynbalds and getting stuck in the folds. He'd always wanted to wear armor, and it annoyed him that it was already dirty. It would need a proper cleaning later. Gear maintenance, something he never considered as a normal player before. There were probably a lot of things he never thought of in regards to high-fantasy living.

There were occasional distant voices, the barking of a dog, a crow that wouldn't shut up. The squeaking of a wheel became ever louder as it approached them. A mule pulled a cart, mostly empty save for a few left over vegetables and sacks of grain. A man sat at the head of it, reins held steady as he looked ahead. Short and rough with a long black beard, he was handsome in his middle-age. Brian's nerd brain recognized him as a pretty stereotypical dwarf.

The adventuring party moved to one side so the cart could pass. Hector and the dwarf shared a nod as it did. Tiffany followed the cart with a crane of her neck. She looked at it until it passed by the crest of the road's slight curve. When it disappeared, she snapped her vision back forward and met Brian's eyes with a confused stare.

"Was he—"

"Super short?" Brian finished for her. "Yeah."

"So that's an elf, and now a dwarf," recounted Ylva. "Think we'll see a gnome pretty soon?"

"Only if we ever get out to Hupperdook," Hector said. Both Brian and Calvin snickered at the funny word.

"Hupper-what?" Tiffany asked.

"It's a place on the map, known for its high gnome population," Hector explained.

"And how do you... oh, right. This world is based on a podcast, or something," Tiffany answered her own question. Brian wanted to correct her, but since she was technically correct—and he had bigger things to worry about—he let the misattribution slide.

The party wandered on for about fifteen minutes more. Or, as far as Brian could tell. He honestly didn't know how long they walked. It must have been later than he thought, because the sun just barely began to set. Hues of yellow and orange and red streaked across the sky.

The scenery changed little. The five passed through a courtyard at one point, where they saw a great many more people. Most traveled alone or in groups no larger than three. There were a couple shops hawking merchandise at the passersby. One of them sold jewelry, another appeared to be a grocer. Light crowds congregated at each. Brian scanned the people as they passed. He saw plenty of humans, and short fellows he assumed were halflings, but no gnomes.

Hector led them straight ahead. The street here was wider and lined with cobblestone. More people milled about, most of them on their ways to individual destinations. A few open doors indicated places of business, and a violin played a jaunty tune somewhere far in the distance. It appeared as though they'd passed into a wealthier part of town.

"This is stupid," Calvin explained. "None of us have the slightest idea where we're going."

"Why don't we ask for directions? Maybe someone knows her, or can point us in the right direction," Ylva proposed.

"I was about to suggest that," Hector agreed.

They walked for about a minute more when two Crownsguard approached from the opposite direction. Both were men, one taller than the other, decked out in their brass scale armor and deep red tunics. One had a sword and kite shield emblazoned with a crown-wearing iron cross atop a red X with sections colored black and brown. The other had a greatsword on his back.

"Excuse me, sirs," Hector said. The guards stopped to consider him. "I hate to bother you, but my companions and I are looking for the residence of an Isalda. Could we you maybe point us in the right direction?"

One of the guards looked over the party. "You from the Guild?"

"What gave it away? Was it the swords or the armor?" Ylva joked moving to join in the rest in tow.

"The fact that you're asking about Isalda," chimed the other guard.

"You must be the sods who got assigned to deal with her rat problem," said the first.

"We are," confirmed Hector. "Our quartermaster said something that suggested she'd had this problem before?"

"This is the third time," said the first guard. "Frankly, we can't afford to waste time on it anymore. With all the trouble the traders bring into town, we have our hands full."

"Aby idea why she keeps having rats?" Asked Brian.

"Not the foggiest, I'm afraid," the second guard answered. "The house isn't dirty, or anything, and her job isn't one that would draw rats."

"Do you think someone is planting them there?" Brian continued.

The second guard shrugged. "Could be."

"Well,we won't know until we get there," Hector said.

"Right, directions. Did you pass through the courtyard on your way here?" The first guard began.

"We did," nodded Hector.

"Okay, go back that way and turn left in the courtyard. Take the main road and follow it a ways until you reach Broadtusk Barrelry. Take the dirt road just before it. About halfway down is Isalda's house. It'll be the one with a J-shaped notch on the crossbeam."

"Thank you both so much. You've saved us a lot of trouble," Hector said.

"Of course, guildsman," said the first guard. "Good luck with the rats."

'Thank you. Stay safe on your patrol."

"Thanks."

With that, they parted ways. The guards turned heel and went back the way they came, probably to avoid that awkward moment when you've said goodbye to someone but keep walking in the same direction.

"Well, that settles that, then," Ylva said.

"Come on, lets get going," Hector said. "We're lost enough during the day, I don't want to try finding this place at night."

Hector began back down the street. Everyone fell in behind him in the same order they had been before stopping. Brian felt a lot better about this stage of the quest now that he knew how to get where they were going.

"What was the name of that place we're supposed to find, again? Wild Boar Bakery, or something?" Calvin asked after a moment.

"I don't remember," Brian said. "It had a weird name, though."

"Broadtusk Barrelry," Tiffany said. "Seriously, are all men bad with directions? I don't know what a barrelry is, though."

"It sounds like a cooper," Ylva said with a glance behind. When Tiffany gave her a confused look she elaborated, "someone who makes barrels. Having said that, I don't think barrelry is a word, but this is my second language, so what do I know?"

The party pressed forward on their newly acquired directions. There were even more people about, now, as the work day came to an end with the sun gradually lowering in the sky. The crowd as mostly human and halfling, with a few dwarves and elves thrown into the mix. No gnomes, but such a short people would be easy to miss in the throng.

Sounds of revelry spilled out from scattered taverns, or people palling around after work, or a particularly drunken dice game Brian observed in an alleyway. Trostenwald, while still a lazy old town, seemed to become much more alive at night when the people were left to their own devices. Brian's own office job was tiring enough. He hated to think how exhausting the backbreaking manual labor most of these people probably did could be, and how much they must've needed a release.

Sticking to the cobblestones, Hector led the party left through the courtyard. It was markedly quieter on this street, fewer people and less music. Brian tried to think of why that may be, but came up with nothing. Perhaps it was a lack of businesses, thus creating fewer workers to mill about after hours? All of the buildings kind of looked the same, so it was impossible to tell.

Eventually, they reached a square sign hanging from a structure almost completely of stone. The words "Broadtusk Barrelry" were painted on it in broad stroked black ink, while a picture of a barrel had been painted beneath them. Ylva was right.

They went right, down the dirt road just before it. This passage was so narrow, anyone coming from the other side would have to squeeze by. It curved gently to the right. Buildings cloistered around both sides of it. Even Brian, used to the concrete jungle of New York, found the space somewhat claustrophobic.

The road seemed endless, a feeling perpetuated by the identical structures on either side. They walked on for what felt like forever, yet never made an appreciable progress. Brian wondered if they made a wrong turn somewhere, but if they had, how would they get back on the right rack? He didn't want to be lost in a fantasy world. That sounded horrible. He was about to suggest asking for directions again, when something caught the corner of his eye.

"Hey, wait," he called out. The rest of the party stopped. "Is this the place?"

The four gathered around him, each starring up at the house he stood before. It was a simple place, stone framed by light wood, two windows bordering a slim door, one story with a peaked roof.

"J-shaped notch in the crossbeam," Ylva said. "This must be it."

"So, what, do we knock or something" Calvin asked.

"I'm not sure, but I don't think these people have invented the doorbell yet," Ylva joked.

"What if she's not home?" Tiffany brought up an extra point. Isalda very well could've been out with friends, just like it seemed the majority of people were.

While the three of them were having this little discussion, Hector walked up and knocked on the door. His three sharp rasps brought a deafening silence to them. He took a step back. For several agonizing seconds, there was silence. Brian always hated this part about visiting someone, the moment where you don't know of they're going to answer the door or not. Thankfully, he needn't wait long. The door creaked open just enough for whoever was inside to speak out.

"Yes?" Asked a slightly accented female voice.

"Are you Isalda?" Began Hector.

"Who wants to know?"

"We're with the Adventurer's Guild, here about your rat problem."

A moment's hesitation and The door opened all the way. Isalda was a middle-aged halfling woman, her mousy brown hair in a braid over one shoulder, green eyes bright, if suspicious. She wore a red vest atop a white blouse, tan trousers, and canvas shoes on her feet. She gave each party member a scrutinizing.

"Can I see the contract," Isalda asked, "just to make sure you aren't a bunch of robbers?" Ylva handed th scroll over. Isalda inspected it. "That's the Guild seal, alright. Come on in, then." Isalda stood aside and bade them entry. The party filed in one at a time.

The front door spilled Ono the living area. A fireplace took up about half of the right wall. Placed before it was a purple cushioned chair with a green book resting in it. Across from the fireplace, a small and sparse bookshelf leaned against the opposite wall. In the far left corner, some unfinished needlework on a damaged pair of pants lay atop a small table. A at the far end wall with an empty spot for a door led to what looked like a kitchen.

"The basement is through here," Isalda said as she led them toward the kitchen.

"This is a lovely home," Ylva said, looking around.

"Thank you. It's not much, but I do what I can," Isalda said.

"Anything you can tell us about the rats in your basement?" Brian asked.

"They're rats. In the basement," answered Isalda. "Not much else to tell."

"Just to clarify, when you say rats do you mean little assholes or…" Calvin trailed off.

"They're giant rats."

"Goddammit."

The kitchen was exactly the same size as the living room. A square table with four chairs—one at each side—dominated the room. Half of the far and right walls were taken up by a counter and cupboards which wrapped around the corner. A cast iron stove sat against the right wall. Several cooking implements hung from hooks in a fixture on the ceiling. There was a door a little separated from the stove, and another in the far left corner. Isalda stood before this latter entry.

"The basement is right down here. A bit cramped for five people, but I'm sure you'll manage," she said.

"And the rats are down there?" Brian asked, and immediately felt stupid for doing so.

"Usually, though I admit I haven't gone down lately to check.'

"And that's perfectly understandable," Hector said. "I say we get down there and deal with this quick as possible. No time like the present."

"I'll lead the way." Ylva pushed past Hector and the homeowner. She put her hand on the door. "Everyone ready?"

Brian and Hector nodded. Tiffany looked away. Calvin didn't do anything. Whether those last two voted now or not, they'd both agreed to come this far. And, they were outvoted, if that sort of thing even mattered right then. With an affirmative nod of her own, Ylva opened the door.

The stairs descended at a right angle, instead of straight ahead from the door. Ylva, Hector, Brian, Calvin, and Tiffany climbed down them into the depths. It was notably colder in the underground space, and just a bit musty. It smelled of old dust and wood. Brian hoped that didn't mean the structure was compromised. Something told him they wouldn't get paid if the house came crashing down around them.

All in all, it didn't seem that bad until Isalda closed the door behind them. What little light poured in from the upper floor snuffed out, bathing the entire room in blackness. The party stopped in their tracks, Ylva the only one at the bottom already.

"Guys...?" Tiffany's voice shook.

"I can't see shit." Calvin took a more direct approach to expressing his distress.

"Hold on, I might actually be able to help with that," Hector said.

From behind him, Brian barely noticed the rough outline of Hector reach into his robes and pull something out. It was small and non-reflective of the little light in the room.

"Now, how did it go?" Hector whispered.

The old man mumbled something under his breath then touched the top of his staff. It erupted in a bright white light, illuminating instantly the stairs they were standing on, as well as the basement to their left. Brian looked away for the sudden, searing pain in his eyes. He blinked rapidly, a desperate attempt to shrink the purple spot in his vision.

"Huh, would you look at that," Hector said, admiring his handiwork.

"Great job, Hector," Ylva praised from the bottom of the stairs. "Come on, lets get to work."

They all descended to the dirt floor and fanned out to search the basement. Brian couldn't speak for everyone, but now that he was here, he couldn't wait to start his first real quest.