The guildmaster of the Adventurer’s Guild was an imposing figure, but though he radiated an aura of calm with a hint of danger, Marie wasn’t intimidated.

  He’s no better than me. He still eats and shits. Probably.

  Ok, so she was a little scared. The tawny-coloured tabaxi man was more than twice her bulk and had shut down the Spellswords - a team who’d taken out a snapjaw with ease - with a single word.

  But he was heading back to the cauldron and someone had to ask about the standards here.

  She walked up as he filled his bowl from the dwindling stock, but stopped a healthy distance back.

  “Erm, excuse me mister guildmaster, sir.”

  The lion-like man didn’t respond at first, he just took a sip of the scalding-hot soup and licked his lips.

  He took another draught, and only then did he turn around.

  “If you require something, you may speak to the secretaries.”

  Marie looked around but didn’t see anyone behind the counter. When she turned back she realised he was already walking off.

  “There’s no one here, sir.”

  “No. They are finished with their regular duties for the day. You may return tomorrow to ask any questions.”

  “But it’s about the allagi sir. They are members of the guild, are they not? Yet they seem not to be being treated fairly.”

  The man stopped, then turned around.

  “And what business is it of yours - the situation of guild members?”

  “Well sir, I helped the hunting expedition that just returned and they - Sirrichon’s Spellswords that is - said I should consider joining the guild.”

  She shifted in place as the guildmaster considered her, and his eyes drifted over to where Napoleon had long since settled down by a chair leg that she was sure had been carved from bone. He’d been gnawing at it.

  There was a narrowing to the tabaxi’s eyes.

  “I fail to see why you are bringing this to my attention. If you wish to join the guild, speak to a secretary tomorrow.”

  “Well sir, I do not wish to join an unfair organisation, or one where there are no protections or safeguards for workers, let alone someone to advocate on their behalf when issues arise or they are not being paid fair wages.”

  There was a long pause, and then the guildmaster spoke, his voice a low growl.

  “You think there are failings in my guild, girl?”

  Marie swallowed, but it was a legitimate criticism.

  “Well, yes. That is to say, I mean, three of the hunters died out there, and they said that when it happens, they cannot usually provide for the bereaved families. And there was no formal contract between the Spellswords and Lord Entoll, or either of them and the hunters.”

  Guildmaster Thror blinked. Slowly.

  “It is a dangerous life, that of an adventurer. I do not hold their hands or coddle them. You think I should do otherwise? You think you could do better?”

  There was an edge to his voice, but she felt a spark of anger rise to meet it. People had died out there, and all he could say was that it was dangerous?

  She took a deep breath.

  “Frankly, sir, yes. Employees should be protected by their employer, and as the Adventurer's Guild Guildmaster it seems to me that the duty falls to you. I would do many things differently, not least ensuring a fair minimum wage for all adventurers, healthcare provision, written contracts-”

  She flinched as a great paw-like hand, but with more pronounced fingers, raised.

  But he pointed to a door off to one side.

  “Copies of the guild codes, adventurers handbooks, records and more are kept in there. Feel free to peruse them. If you have anything to say after, you can reach me… via a secretary.”

  He left without another word, stalking back to the upper floors.

  Well, that went better than I expected…

  … That calls for a drink.

  —

  Sirrochon’s Spellswords were already on their second round by the time Marie arrived in the tavern next door - The Grinning Broccsus - and found hers waiting on the table.

  A few of the other patrons - the ones sober enough to notice - started at the appearance of Napoleon by her side, but when the undead hound made no sudden, aggressive moves, they calmed down and went back to drinking.

  All four of the adventuring team greeted her with raised glasses and a toast she couldn’t make out above the clinking and animated chatter of the patrons, and the sounds of a flute and some stringed instrument playing in the background.

  The drink in the tankard she’d been given proved to be a pale cider that went down her throat like a landslide of fizzy gold, and the others cheered as she finished it in one.

  Sirro clapped her on the shoulder.

  “So Marie, how have you found your introduction to civilisation?”

  “-or what passes for it round here-”

  Dap and Leam guffawed at Quartz muttering into his tankard - one half the size of his head - and Marie was about to launch into an explanation of how fascinating the architecture was and ask a barrage of questions about how the various species and cultures mixed in such close quarters (though she had an idea about some) when a plate of spiced meatballs in a garlic sauce was passed round and her second mug pressed into her hands.

  Plenty of time for discussion tomorrow…

  “It is a little rough, but it is fascinating.”

  Dappled Shadow leaned over to confide in her.

  “There are not so many options for ladies of quality around here like the two of us, Marie, but for adventurers like us - and for a [Scout] like yourself - there are plenty of opportunities.”

  It was the most the tabaxi had said to her in one go since they’d met.

  They must really have appreciated my sorting out of the Entoll mess.

  “Guard duty for rich bastards?” Leaping Mist groused. “It’s not a brilliant opportunity, Dap.”

  Sirro swivelled round from where he’d been placing an order with a waitress and put his hands round both the tabaxis’ shoulders.

  “Ah, but let us not spoil the moment with quibbles, friends. This is our time off. Take the chance to relax when you can.”

  “The last few days were relaxing for you?”

  Stolen story; please report.

  “Pretty much.” Quartz said, putting his feet up on the table before a passing waitress slapped them down. He sent a wink and a kiss in her direction. “Easy money for people of our talents.”

  “What do you do normally if this was easy?”

  “We hit up dungeons when we find them, or take mercenary work when we can’t.” Sirro explained. “We may not be the biggest group but we work well together. If there’s nothing more lucrative we’ll look for any quests the guilds post in the area, or take private jobs like we did with Entoll.”

  “Quests? Like… looking for a grail?”

  “A what?” Leam said, wiggling a claw in his ear. “That some sort of bird?”

  “Nevermind.” Marie said, face flushing from more than alcohol as she took a deep gulp of her pint to disguise it.

  “We took a couple on our way down here.” Sirrochon said. “There was a tribe of goblins that had been raiding farms thirty miles or so to the north - just off the Duondenum Road. We drove them off. Collected the bounty. Then there was a feral grick lair-”

  “-and the peryton nest.” Leam added with a shudder, and all of them drank at that.

  “Here though, it’s quieter.” Sirro said when he’d finished. “For now at least. We’ve heard some stories and once a certain issue is dealt with we’re going to see if we can unearth an old tower or dungeon. There’s a few other groups been coming down this way on and off for a year now. It’s the arse-end of nowhere but there’s a few ruins about and there might be something to uncover.”

  Marie leaned forwards as she finished her drink.

  “That sounds fascinating. What do you find there? Remnants of ancient civilisations? A link to the past?”

  “Treasure.” Quartz grinned.

  Leam patted his waist. “I got an enchanted belt in our last dive - in a part of the Ashen Vaults that had only just been discovered. Made me almost twice as strong.”

  “That was a good find.” Sirro nodded. “I got my sword - Glissando - in the Shattered Mire a couple of years before when we all first started out together.”

  Quartz snorted. “You traded it with another adventurer after he lost an arm and had to retire. Doesn’t count as dungeon loot.”

  “Does too.”

  “Does not.”

  “He’s right Sirro - that doesn’t count.” Dap insisted. “But your dridersilk gloves do.”

  Sirro seemed mollified as he showed off the soft black gloves to Marie.

  “We’ve had a fair amount of luck, but I like to th- oh, wait here!”

  The [Verseblade] suddenly stood, startling Napoleon who shuffled under Marie’s chair, tail curling in tight to avoid being stepped on. He was off before Marie could ask what was going on.

  Dap rolled her eyes.

  “Always so dramatic, but flair isn’t the worst thing in a leader.” She looked at everyones drinks. “Next round is on me. Marie, what are you having?”

  She hadn’t realised her cider was almost gone, and she held up the mug, brow furrowing.

  “Another one of these?”

  Leam and Quartz cheered but Dap sighed.

  “No. Something more interesting. We’re in a town of country bumpkins but that doesn’t mean we have to drink like them.”

  Leam groused to himself but Quartz fully embraced the criticism and affected a look so ridiculous Marie had to laugh. It reminded her of a boy she’d known growing up.

  “What about wine?”

  Dap’s eyes glimmered.

  “Better. Any preference?”

  “Urm. Red?”

  All three of the group around the table scoffed at her choice.

  “No. That won’t do. Not in these parts anyway; they don’t have the right grapes for a good one. What about violet?”

  Marie tried to hide her confusion, but she had to ask.

  “A wine made out of violets?”

  That brought a rumble of laughter from the group, and Quartz reached over to slap her on the back.

  “Good one, miss [Scout]. I’ll remember that.”

  “Violet wine it is then.” Dap said, rubbing her paws… hands?.. with glee and heading to the bar.

  As she left, Leam and Quartz began ordering plates of food, but they were both interrupted when Sirro reappeared, with a robed woman who looked a little squiffy in tow. A robed woman more than seven feet tall and with arms that looked like Marie’s legs. Sirro grinned as he made introductions.

  “Brunalda - Marie, a [Scout] we met lost in the wilderness; Marie - Brunalda, the spellcaster who single-handedly keeps Evermore’s Flame amongst our competition, and the strongest [Mage] this side of the Langschloss.” He winked as Brunalda rolled her eyes.

  “Pleased to meet you Marie. Always good to have a [Scout] about, especially when there’s as much wilderness around as here. Leam, a pleasure. Where’s Dap?”

  “Off getting drinks.”

  The giant woman nodded, then stiffened as she looked further down.

  “Quartz.”

  “‘Nalda.”

  Marie couldn’t miss the charged look between them, but after a moment of locked eyes, both decided to ignore each other. Sirro broke the building tension.

  “Oh come on; we’re all adults here.”

  Marie barely heard Leam mumble ‘consenting adults’ into his mug as Sirro revealed the reason he’d brought the huge woman over.

  “I thought I saw Evermore’s Flame when we came in and I thought, who better to {Repair} your glasses than our old friend?”

  “Oh.” Marie said, reaching up to touch the frame round the shattered lens. It’s been broken so long she’d forgotten it was cracked. “That would be most kind… that is, I don’t know if I can afford to p-”

  Brunalda waved down her concern as she pulled over a larger stool and sat at the table, taking up the space of two people.

  “Not a problem. I’ll order a drink on Sirro’s tab later. Besides, a small thing like this? And it’s barely even a first level spell. I could do it all day and have enough mana left to level a house.” She leaned in to Marie and confided in a whisper that was as loud as a normal person talking. “I have a few Skills around the spell - comes from being a goliath living in a small-peoples’ world.”

  An uncertain smile came to Marie’s lips, and she passed the glasses over, peering to try and see a [Mage] in action.

  Magic.

  She’s only seen it once before.

  Well, a few times in short succession. Without realising, she began rubbing the now-healed flesh of her hand.

  It was the work of a few moments as Brunalda pulled out what could only have been a magic wand, though it was the size of a baguette, and tapped the glasses resting on the table.

  “{Repair}.”

  When she gestured, Marie picked them up and tried them on.

  Oh wow. I’ve been missing a lot!

  The room was twice as clear as before, and her field of vision encompassed so much more.

  They must have been dirty as well as cracked. What on earth…

  But she wasn’t on earth, and the various forms and figures and colours and shapes of the tavern’s patrons was all the more startling for the sudden clarity.

  There were still more humans than all the rest, and there were a number of tabaxi, but there were others with horns or bestial features. One man had the head of an owl. Another had pupils so large and dark that his eyes were almost completely black. Many had tails and one looked so emaciated she had to double-check she wasn’t a corpse.

  Quartz chuckled.

  “Not the prettiest bunch, present company excepted of course.”

  It was overwhelming, and it wasn’t helped by Dap returning with a whole bottle of violet wine she split between herself, Sirro and Marie. The sweet, heady drink was delightful, and tasted vaguely of elderflower, but it began to make her newfound vision blurry at the edges.

  Before long, Brunalda was calling over the rest of her drinking buddies and a few other adventurers that were around - the tavern being next to the guild made it a frequent watering hole for those types - and Marie was introduced to a dozen or more new faces, many of which she had no frame of reference for, though one was surely a centaur and another had ears that made her think of forest-dwelling fae-folk.

  The next thing she knew, a space had been cleared in the middle of the room, a different bottle of wine was open in front of her, she was surrounded by a dozen unfamiliar faces and Sirrochon’s Spellswords were taking centre stage, calling out instructions to the trio of musicians at the back of the room, and a rowdy drinking song began.

  —

  It was close to midnight when Marie realised she was very, very drunk.

  The music had died down, the chaotic mass of drunken revellers had thinned out, and only the hardened drinkers were left. In fact, only a handful were still drinking at all, but that did include Brunalda and Quartz who’d retired to a corner table and were engaged in deep conversation.

  She blinked as she realised Sirro had said something.

  “...sorry - what?”

  “I was saying, do you want to come back to our accommodation? We’re going to talk shop with Evermore’s and one or two others.” He nodded towards a tough-looking woman with squirrel-like features who she’d probably been introduced to earlier. “They’re clearing the [Bandits] out of the hills to the south-east and they think there might be something worth exploring there after; the [Bandits] have definitely got more gear then they were expecting. Brun’s proposed a team-up with Evermore’s and the Spellswords and we could likely use a [Scout]’s Skills after we’ve cleared the worst of them out - hunt down stragglers and search for anything of interest.”

  If I have any more to drink I will puke.

  “Maybe I can meet up with you tomorrow. There was schomething I wanted to do tonight.”

  Sirro gave an easy shrug and stood up.

  “As you like. You got somewhere to sleep? They should have left your stuff in the guild - you can go in any time to get it - it’s never locked. If you need, we’re staying at the tall house on the corner we passed on the way in. Red door; can’t miss it. Knock loud enough and someone will let you in.”

  Bleary-eyed, she nodded her thanks as he waved to the squirrel-woman and left with most of the other adventurers.

  It was a kind offer he’d made. She didn’t actually have anywhere to stay.

  Except my tent.

  But she did have something she wanted to do - reinforced by his parting words.

  They should have left your stuff in the guild.

  She’d been out here partying and drinking free wine and nibbling on…well, not enough food frankly, but what she’d had was good. Meanwhile, the allagi had gone back to wherever it was they lived - she could guess as to the state of their houses - and made do with some of the meat they’d harvested from the deer and crocodile.

  And try as she might, she couldn’t get the thought of the four dead allagi out of her head, or the image of Algar’s fatalistic response to her questions earlier.

  So she stumbled back to the guild next door, Napoleon click-clicking away as he padded after her. The pale moon, almost full, hung in the sky overhead as she tried the door and found that it was, indeed, unlocked.

  Inside, the fire still burned, though she didn’t see anyone around to tend to it. A few wall-mounted lamps - glass bulbs with candles inside now she could see them properly - contributed to the faint but sufficient illumination. Enough to see her rucksack and tent bag and chest had been left in a corner.

  Either they have no [Thieves] here or no one dares rob this place.

  She took a moment to lean on the back of a chair and close her eyes.

  That proved a mistake as she almost fell over when the room started spinning.

  “ok - let’s sober up Boney.”

  With one hand reached out to steady herself on the furniture, she wobbled towards the door that had been pointed out to her earlier. Inside, as she held the door open for Napoleon to enter, she was disappointed. The room was lit by more of the wall-mounted candelabras, but they outnumbered the books on a shelf.

  The majority of the room was taken up by a huge map that depicted Wayfarrow and the surrounding countryside. She made a note to study it in detail later but her eyes were drawn to a small but significant section on the left which had been blacked out.

  Pins were dotted into the map with string that led to notes, and a board next to it all had dozens of attached slips of paper.

  A questboard?

  It was mirrored on the other side of the map by a second board, though this one was less populated.

  A pair of chests stood against the far wall, large enough for her to fit in if she’d wanted, but she couldn’t be bothered to see what was inside them. Above them hung a banner and two crossed swords.

  An emblem of some kind?

  There was a single desk with a few chairs - none of them the soft, upholstered kind that the common room had - and a single shelf with a handful of books. She checked each one.

  ‘The Board and Sword: How to Master Combat’ by Ser Garran Thornehelm.

  Nope.

  ‘Elixirs of Essence: An Introduction to Alchemical Potions’ by Tzirath’ka the Verdant.

  Interesting, but no.

  ‘A Hand in the Arcane: A Catalog of Commonly Magical Artifacts’ by Rilla Moonbow.

  Again, not what I’m looking for.

  Then she spotted them, sandwiching ‘Beginner’s Bestiary: Cataloging Creatures and Constructs’ by Algrim Stonejaw. Two slim tomes: the guild codes and the adventurer’s handbook.

  Heavy-eyed yet determined, she pulled out a chair, got Napoleon settled under her feet, and began to read.

  Hi all! Welcome to my book, Miscast Heroes.

  I'm uploading a few chapters to start with and then will upload one a day after.

  The full first book is available on Patreon - and I greatly appreciate anyone who chooses to support me there.

  Hope you enjoy it - please leave comments below!