This Adventurer's Guild was, well, the trooper wanted to say not what he expected, but he honestly didn't know what to expect. Dozens of individuals of varying dress occupied the floor, sitting at various tables and benches like it were a rather large tavern. Some were heavily armored like they were Medieval knights. Others, dressed almost like the homeless, but with swords or bows strapped to them. A few were dressed in flowing robes and carried staffs like they were one-cent street magicians trying to create an air of mystique. A few waitresses, dressed in white aprons, scuttled between tables and across the floor as they carried plates of food and mugs of drink.

He was beginning to think he was in the wrong place until he eventually looked all the way back and to the side towards a massive desk with several menial workers behind it. Behind it were other desks for processing paperwork and a small corridor that lead to other offices. A professional looking woman was manning the station, as it were, handling various sheets of paper sprawled across the surface of the desk. Behind her was a flat wall filled with shelves housing books and stacks of paper.

He closed the door behind him and strode towards the desk. A few of the patrons, or 'adventurers' or whatever, gave him curious glances but none made any attempt to bother him at least. Those talking to the Guild receptionist had finally moved on by the time the trooper had made his way up to the woman. She regarded him with a rather curious exception.

"Good morning, ma'am," he greeted.

The Guild Girl smiled at him. A warm smile, although he wasn't convinced it was genuine; this was quite the busy place and surely she's making that same smile a hundred times a day. "Good morning, mister. Are you here to register with the Adventurers Guild?"

"No, sorry," he replied. He held up the envelope in his hand. "In fact, I have a letter from the Executor." Her eyebrows raised slightly at the mention of that woman. He wasn't sure whether that was a positive reaction or negative. "I haven't read it but I believe it's a quest."

"Huh," she replied. "Well, let me see it then." She opened the envelope up and began reading. Her expression darkened as she continued reading. "I see. Yes I do suppose this is as urgent as she thinks."

He nodded in affirmation.

"I'm so sorry that you had to see that," she said.

"Don't worry about me, miss," he said, holding up his hand dismissively. "I've seen worse things in my time." He said, exaggerating, perhaps.

She sighed. "But seeing what happens to those poor villages never really gets easier, does it?"

"No, I suppose it doesn't," he replied, shaking his head. "So is there any way I can help? Do you need me as a guide or something?"

"Oh, you don't need to worry about that. We have an expert for these types of quests. He's currently gone on another one, actually," Guild Girl said. "So you can go back to wherever you're staying, if you'd like. I will inform the Executor directly if you'd like on the quest's progress, if you're busy."

"About that," he started, not quite sure how to explain. "I'm not really traveling, exactly. I just, uh, ended up here."

"Oh, I see," she said. He wasn't sure if she actually saw. "Well, that's not unheard of. Even if it is quite rare." Well, he supposed she did see.

"Right."

"Well you're welcome to stay here for the night as you figure out your bearings. We normally aren't cheap, but I can drop the price a little for special circumstances," she offered.

"Well that's the thing. I've got mostly paper money on me," he explained. "The only worth my coins are, are the cost of the scrap material."

"You're asking for a job, then."

He shrugged. "I suppose so. I can't really afford much in the way of food or bedding."

She smirked. Ever the shrewd business woman. He walked right into that one. "Well have I got the job for you," she said, reaching underneath her desk. She produced a registration sheet. It had all sorts of things to fill out. "Don't worry. I can defer lodging costs and any tabs you run up until you get your first payment, but that will mean the full deduction."

It was tempting, but a rather large step, he thought. "I'm sorry but I'm going to hold off on that offer for now."

She kept up her polite facade, to her credit. "That's alright. It's a job, after all. I can still offer you the discount, and we have an expert who can work on a currency exchange."

Well, he supposed he might as well sleep comfortably for the night. Tomorrow, though, he was sleeping in the stables with his horse if he couldn't find work somewhere. Hell, he might just work in the stables anyway, seeing as he was familiar with horses and other pack animals already.


The next morning was an early one. His back was aching like it was working against him. He eventually managed to get out of bed, perform his morning hygiene, and make his way down the stairs. He must slept over half a day. Maybe it was the fact that he only got a couple hours of sleep previously, seeing as he and the boy were on the run nearly from dusk 'til well past dawn. He was able to get the quest submitted to the Guild at lunch time and passed out the second his head hit the pillow in his room in the Guild. Man, he's away from the Regiment for two days and already he was a slovenly wreck of discipline…

"Gooood morning!" one of the waitresses cheerfully greeted, waving an arm towards him. She had a bright smile on her face as though waiting was the best job she'd ever taken up in her entire life. "We've got breakfast until noon, if you'd like! Just find me when you're ready!"

Well she certainly was proactive, he gathered. Not that he'd mind, he never denied the attention of pretty ladies. Well, he supposed she was pretty. She was one of those weird-he wasn't quite sure actually-hybrids? He supposed the word "mutt" would be a bit harsh for someone who'd done nothing but offer to bring him food. The young woman sported a pair of ears on her head. No, he blinked and looked again to ensure it wasn't some weird costume. Those were genuinely some kind of fox or wolf looking ears on the top of her head. They even twitched occasionally. She still had normal human hair, and it covered up the sides where the ears should be.

He eventually sat down at a table and waved her over. A trip to the kitchen later and he had a beer-hey, no worth judging-and a delicious looking omelet. Even after he thanked her for the meal, she stood by, hands crossed at her waist as she held the serving tray, for him to try the food. And he had to say it was the best damn eggs, pardon his language, he'd had since he'd enlisted. Other than when he was able to visit his parents and eat his Momma's food, of course. She gave another smile and thanked him for the compliments before she left to serve other adventurers.

Well, he thought, if there were more women like her around, then he supposed this place wasn't all bad.


He was about finished with the food when a curious trio walked up to him. "Hi, you look like you've been around!" a young boy said rather boisterously, raising a hand up in greeting.

The trooper studied the boy closely. He looked fresh. Like a lot of fresh soldiers did at a recruiting station. Like he did. His armor, just a single plate on his chest, looked brand new, not a scratch on it. His sword worn on the hip looked used, but not that used; he probably only acquired it a few months ago and had only been drilling with it since. He had a bandana around his forehead, presumably as a sweat band, and it doubled to keep his unkempt hair out of his eyes.

He narrowed his eyes as he looked past the boy. Two girls, about his age. One was in an Asian-looking training garb, although the face hardly matched; she looked as European as the rest. Another looked like a stereotypical witch, pointy hat and staff included, and sported a pair of glasses as well. She must've been from a well-off family, then.

And on each of their necks was an egg white tag that he guessed was a cheap piece of iron or steel slathered in paint.

"Morning," he returned. "What are you three up to?"

"We're off to take our first quest!" the boy said.

And to that the trooper could only raise his eyebrows. "And what do you three intend to do?"

"Hunting goblins!" the boy proudly said. "We're new so I thought we should start out with something easy."

Easy? "Easy!?" he almost yelled. "Son, I just came in from a village that got wiped out by those bastards! They ain't easy!"

The mood of the trio immediately shifted. While the boy looked like a scolded child who still didn't feel like he'd done nothing wrong, the girl in the fighting garb somewhat embarrassed. The third, in the witch hat, seemed rather defiant.

"Goblins aren't that tough," she replied. "Adventurers practically use them as target practice."

The boy nodded in agreement. "Even I've fought a few away from my village before and I was just a kid."

"Fought? Or killed?" the trooper asked.

"Well," the boy said hesitantly. "They got away. But I would've killed them."

He just sighed and shook his head. "Listen. I don't care how easy you think it is, combat ain't the place for kids. It especially ain't the place for a couple of young girls."

The one in the garb crossed her arms at that remark. "We can take care of ourselves," she said angrily.

"Yeah sure you can. Listen. I'm sorry for my language earlier. But if you really want to do this, don't go out on your own. Find someone more experienced than you so you can learn," the trooper suggested. "Everyone has a plan until you get shot back at."

The three kids stood there, hesitating to respond.

"We'll, uh, see what we can do."


Luckily he had a couple of gold dollars on him that had a good exchange rate with the local commerce office, giving him the better part of a week worth's of lodging. He exchanged them and the silver coins he had on him for local currency. Unfortunately, half of his money was in cash, which he figured he might as well hold onto just in case he ever made it back home. The Guild also offered him to stay in the stables for no fee at all which he couldn't reason himself to turn down. The first night was one thing, but…

Free is free after all. He'd slept in worse.

His mind kept going back to those kids. He couldn't really find himself to be mad at him. After all he'd done much the same thing, enlisting in the Union Army in his mid-teens, surrounded by other starry-eyed youths who didn't understand the wider world around them. Everyone, even the roughest of veterans, had a first battle. But by God even he had the common sense to listen when his Sergeant said to keep his damn head down!

He pushed that thought out of his mind. Kids dying horrible deaths wasn't new to him. Whether they be in a military or unfortunate civilian victims. Just worrying about them wouldn't help anything. So he turned his thoughts towards the next problem. A job. The easy route would certainly to become one of these 'adventurers.' But he wasn't a man to die for money. Well, he was, but not just money. He needed a cause, a purpose. Perhaps he could just kill goblins then? The other adventurers he overheard in the Guild seemed all to eager to accept the more dangerous enemies-many he'd only heard in fairy tales, mind you- so it would seem there wouldn't be a problem ignoring them. But that system was terribly inefficient. By the very nature of questing it was inefficient and reactive. You would only know there were goblins in the area when someone was killed, supplies were stolen, and a poor girl was kidnapped.

There needed to be a better solution. Town guard? Unlike the military, they weren't deployed across the continent. Unless there was a draft, of course. But by evidence of the fact that there were these quests at all, they weren't too terribly proactive either, if they went after goblins at all.

The last option he could think of was to somehow become rich and bankroll goblin-hunting expeditions, recruit higher skill adventurers, actively search for their nests. Yeah, right. Just come up with a small fortune. Sounds easy.

The second problem was his guns. It didn't seem like gunpowder was a common thing in this world. The bullets and casings were easy enough to make, just hand them to a craftsman and he'd be able to replicate them easily enough, but getting gunpowder that burnt at the right strength was another matter. Anyone could mix saltpeter, charcoal, and sulfur in a pot and shake it up. Or perhaps there was, and it was just new, rare, or expensive. Or all three.

But the primer. He knew it contained mercury but he was no scientist. It contained mercury and ignited once struck by the firing pin. Without primers, he would eventually run out of ammunition. And once that happened, it was either reinvent-or invent, rather-the musket, or get really damn good with his saber.

The discussion with the town 'alchemist' was more productive than he'd feared, but less than he'd hoped. The powder was no issue, they just knew it by the term 'fire powder' instead of gunpowder. The primers looked feasible to the woman but there was no guarantee. The casings would be expensive to have an artisan produce them, but at least they could be reused. Bullets, he could make himself. He had the mold in his saddle pack; he just needed the raw materials.

Despite the name 'Frontier Town' this wasn't really a town. Not a gigantic city, but a city nonetheless. They must've founded the town a while ago and just never changed the name. There was bustling trade and dining. If the fact that there were walls with manned gates didn't give it away, it was the population that passed through the streets.

There was a wide variety, and not just in trade or class. There were several types of people that were just not human. Of course, the animal-like ones like the waitress at the Guild, although some of their bodies were even covered in fur and had paws, albeit ones with useful fingers, rather than hands. There were several types of humans that were quite short and stout, even the women. Others were still a bit shorter than normal humans but had pointed ears and tended to go barefoot. He wondered if this was just a hub for different populations and they were just passing through, or if the smaller remote villages and towns were similar.

He made it to the stables by the time the moons had risen. His horse seemed happy to see him, and the Stable Hand had remarked on how well behaved he was. His equipment, to include his carbine, was locked away in a storehouse managed by the Guild. It was rather cheap to keep his horse there, so that wasn't an expense he worried about. Meanwhile, he had scouted out a hostel nearby to the stables that was a fraction of even the discounted Guild room rate.

He really wasn't used to this. His whole adult life he'd had purpose. Even in peacetime, there was always a larger mission or purpose he was working towards. Here… he was just floating. Just existing. He briefly considered revisiting his earlier internal discussion but decided against it. Whatever he was going to do, it was going to wait until tomorrow.


"Good morning, sir!" the Guild Girl greeted as the trooper came up to the desk.

"Good morning," he returned, nodding. "Just checking up on the quest I brought in earlier."

"You know, we can just report directly to the Executor. You don't need to come to us," she said, turning around and shuffling through the shelves.

"That's quite alright, miss. I'm just a little anxious about it is all. I'd feel better once it gets taken care of."

"I know the feeling," she replied. She was still looking for the quest paper. "That's funny."

"Was it misplaced?" he asked.

The other receptionist had just finished with an adventurer and turned towards the two. "What are you looking for? I might've seen it."

"A goblin quest," Guild Girl answered. "Straight from the Executor's office."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought it was meant for the board. I put it up this morning."

"You what!?"

"Wait what's wrong?"

The Guild Girl rubbed her forehead in worry. "Oh, dear." She found another sheet that had a list of numbers and names on it. "And it was accepted. Oh dear, oh dear."

"Well who took the quest then?" the trooper asked, his concern growing. Hopefully one of the more experienced fellows, he thought, looking for some extra change.

"A new party," she answered. "Four Porcelain-ranked."

"Oh." A shock ran up the trooper's back. "Damn it."


AN: I know they don't have real names, but I'm sure how much is actual in-story lore, and how much is fanon that they go by titles and nicknames instead. From what I can tell (and I haven't read the LN's) it's just a stylistic choice in reference to RPG games, and the cultural custom aspect is just something fan authors use for in-universe justification.

Sorry if this is kind of a weak chapter. I'm pretty much just pushing through it. I'm not that great at these kinds of scenes and if I get stuck on them I tend to just get stuck. You can tell in my other works :/