The Peanut Challenge

In the warm, wood-paneled meeting room of the tavern, morning light filters through tall windows, casting golden patterns across polished floors and silver tea trays. A hush settles over the room, broken only by the soft clink of porcelain and the low murmur of voices.

“Such a splendid morning, lovely,” he begins, his voice smooth and steady. He pauses, his expression turning slightly more serious. “First and foremost, I must apologize. Amber and I… we left the scene rather abruptly, and in my case, I was hurried. We had to leave the bill unpaid. I want to make it clear that this was not intentional.” He looks to Amber, who gives him a subtle nod of acknowledgment.

“We’ve resolved the issue,” Wolfgang continues, turning to face Tachibana with a grateful look. “Thank you, Tachibana, for stepping in and handling everything so well. The debt has been settled, so I hope that brings some peace to the matter. No, it’s not something we want to repeat, and certainly not something we are known for. So again, my sincerest apologies.”

He takes a deep breath, giving a slight chuckle as he finishes, “We promised to cover our own expenses, and I can assure you, that’s been done. Now, with that behind us, we can move forward.”

Count Wolfgang stands near the center, impeccably composed, his voice rich and deliberate. “Just to be clear,” he begins, addressing the room with a slight nod, “I invited you all here. I’m not sure who invited whom, but in this establishment, to correct the… unfortunate first impression from last night, this morning’s refreshments are on my family.”

A gentle laugh floats up from Ash, already reaching for the teapot. “That’s so nice of you, Wolfie. I love it. I’ll take some tea.” She flashes a bright grin as she carefully pours herself a cup.

Wolfgang inclines his head with quiet satisfaction. “My pleasure,” he replies, the words smooth as velvet.

At a nearby settee, Amber raises her cup and takes a delicate sip—only to nearly choke as Ash offers an offhanded remark about their host. Tea sputters slightly from her lips as she coughs in surprise, struggling to regain her composure.

“Well—” Daiki starts, but Amber cuts in, dabbing at her mouth with a napkin, clearly exasperated. “Why do you say things like this?” she gasps, gesturing toward Ash. “This is Count Wolfgang. Respect, girl.”

Amber gathers the group with a clear, if slightly rambling, plan. She outlines it confidently: they will retrieve the petrified goblin statues from the gate—where she and Count Wolfgang left them—and transport them to the keep. There, in an interrogation room, they will use her one vial of de-petrification oil to revive a goblin and question it. She insists this doesn’t need to be done under duress—perhaps the goblins are cooperative. With any luck, the revived goblins might reveal valuable leads—perhaps even something about Lord Blackthorn. Amber remains skeptical but refuses to rule out a connection. After all, Lord Blackthorn is a liar. A “douchebag,” as she puts it bluntly. A pig.

She concludes, “Long story short: collect goblins, de-petrify, ask questions, follow leads. Agreed?”

Wolfgang offers a slight variation. While the others were discussing morning matters, he learned there may be more goblins hiding in the outer parts of the city. Allegedly, some lowlifes at a tavern—something with “peanut” in the name—might know more. This, he proposes, might be another lead worth following.

Daiki mishears the name, chuckling at what he thinks was “penis.” Wolfgang calmly continues, unbothered, popping a grape in his mouth. Ashira, more focused, recognizes the tavern in question—it must be The Old Peanut Pub, one of several seedy establishments in the city she’s familiar with.

Wolfgang nods. “Exactly.”

Tachibana adds dryly, “Ah yes. The notorious Peanut Pub.”

Despite their amusement, the group begins weighing the risks. Wolfgang expresses reluctance about being seen in such a place. Ashira teases him, suggesting he won’t be recognized. Tachibana, however, is more cautious—he reminds them that his red cloak draws attention and might not be welcome in a den of criminals.

Amber, frustrated by the growing tangent, steers them back. “I just proposed a plan, and now we’re discussing taverns. Are we changing the plan? Splitting up?”

Wolfgang defers to the group’s judgment but notes the importance of verifying the goblins’ stories with outside sources—another reason to explore the tavern lead.

Daiki suggests a compromise. “How about Ashira, Amber, and I head to the Old Peanut. The rest of you deal with the petrified goblins?”

Amber agrees, noting that de-petrifying a goblin might also uncover more about Lady Seraphina, whose carriage they attacked. However, she insists she must remain by Count Wolfgang’s side. He assures her of his safety, placing trust in Masaki and Shira to manage the other lead.

Tachibana agrees. “We should reconvene here once we’ve gathered information, before taking any further action.”

The group settles on this meeting point, now understanding it’s located near the city center—convenient and central enough for regrouping.

Amber hands Masaki the oil of de-petrification and gives him the responsibility of retrieving the goblin statues from the Eastern Gate.

Wolfgang, ever practical, reminds the group of potential rewards: not only might they earn 350 gold from the Mage Guard Keep, but also third-level magic certification from his network.

Amber suggests they split the reward five ways. Wolfgang concurs—but clarifies that due to a private contract between himself and Amber, their two shares will be bundled. How they divide that is their business. 

Before splitting up, Daiki asks what they’re supposed to inquire about at the tavern.

Amber recaps: “Ask about the goblin problem. Who’s seen them? Where did they come from? What are they doing? We don’t know the nature of this infestation, only that it exists.”

They all nod.

Concern arises again about transporting the heavy statues. Amber suggests securing a carriage and de-petrifying the goblins in a holding cell to avoid chaos. Wolfgang considers doing it outside the gate, but Tachibana agrees with Amber’s caution—best to do it under controlled conditions.

As the group finally prepares to part, Amber reaffirms the assignments. “Daiki, Ashira—you’re with me. We’re heading to the Old Peanut Pub.

“I will let Montgomery know that the tab is closed for now.” says Wolfgang before everyone exits meeting room three.

Meanwhile, Ashira, standing near the counter, notices the sugar cubes and decides to add a little extra sweetness. She reaches for the bowl, and takes eight more sugar cubes. 

Montgomery, ever vigilant and careful with his guests, whispers softly in Wolfgang’s ear. “Ah, but Lord, I mean, of course, we let them in today, but they’re not the usual guests we have here, as you probably know. So, if you want them to come here, can you please make sure that they will take the back entrance and go straight to the meeting room and just wait there for you? I do not want other guests to think that these are common guests around here, if you know what I mean.”

Wolfgang listens attentively, his calm demeanor unshaken. He reassures Montgomery, “My presence will ensure your clientele will be happy, Mr. Montgomery. Please do not worry.”

Montgomery nods, though there’s still a touch of concern in his voice. “Let’s just say that if they come to the front door again, I will have to send them away. So, please make sure they follow the instructions. I wish you a pleasant meeting day, of course. And good luck with your business.”

“Thank you,” Wolfgang responds, his tone respectful and composed, before turning to leave.

---

Amber stands by the door, preparing to leave. She turns to Masaki, giving his arm a gentle pull, guiding him slightly outside. “Are you willing to follow or not?” she asks, her voice quiet. As they step out of the room, she leans against the wall, her tone soft but serious as she speaks to him in confidence. “Please, don’t let anything fall upon him that’s bad. I need to protect him. He says it’s okay for me to leave him now, but this is my job. Please protect him.”

Masaki looks at her, his gaze serious and unwavering. He meets her eyes, his tone deadpan. “I’m going to buy an umbrella.”

“An umbrella? Why?” Amber asks, slightly confused.

Masaki explains, “So nothing bad falls on him.”

Amber, though still puzzled, shakes her head, a hint of exasperation in her voice. “You know I sometimes have a problem with this language. I come from the desert. Please don’t kid me about this.”

Amber smiles at him, though there’s a trace of frustration in her voice. “You were always the funny one.”

Masaki immediately apologizes. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. No, no, I know what you mean. I will do my very best to not let anything bad befall Mr. Wolfgang.”

Amber nods, her expression softening. “Okay, okay. Merci.”

Masaki reassures her further. “We should be fine. They’ll be in a holding cell anyway.”

Amber agrees, her thoughts still clouded with concern. “This is probably the most… I think this is the safest way for a quest that he can be.”

Masaki, seeing her unease, adds, “I’m most safe he can be, yes.”

Amber’s voice grows more resolute. “I would suggest not letting him do anything that might endanger him too much. We will face more dangers in the future, I’m afraid, but let’s keep it to a minimum while we still can.”

Masaki nods, his tone understanding. “All right. Well noted. Be safe, okay? I remember some fun times in that pub, but it’s a little rough sometimes.”

Amber smiles at him, a brief but genuine expression, before they both return to Wolfgang. She shouts inside, “Let’s go, everyone.”

---

Amber knows where the Old Peanuts pub is. She has been here before. It’s a small place, not big at all, with only three round tables. Though the pub is small, it is a popular spot for the city’s lower class—those on the fringes, including the poorer criminals. Amber knows it’s owned by Henry Benson, a decent man who lets everyone in and mind their own business. The food here is simple: stew, cooked in the middle of the pub in two large iron cauldrons. There’s little choice, but Henry serves beer to everyone, and it’s the kind of place where you can get in and out quickly. The pub is on the northern outskirts of the city, just a short 15-minute walk away.

The rain continues as they approach the pub, and despite the clothes they wear, Amber, Daiki, and Ash arrive a little damp. The building is a single-story structure with a sign featuring a peanut that’s somewhat moldy—a fitting image, as most of the people who come here are probably illiterate.

The large double doors open with ease, and the smell of stew immediately fills their noses as they step inside. The smell isn’t bad, but it isn’t particularly appetizing either. The pub is quiet, with only one guest at the moment—a man slouched over at the bar with a half-drunk pint of beer in front of him and a couple of empty glasses scattered on the counter. Henry is behind the bar, cleaning a glass.

“Welcome,” he greets them. “What can I do for you?”

Amber waves cheerfully. “Bonjour, Henri. How are you doing?”

“I’m fine,” Henry responds, wiping down the glass. “It’s a bit quiet still, but hey, it’s morning. What do you expect?”

Ash, picking up on the atmosphere, comments with a grin, “It smells great. Smells like bad decisions and cheap ale. I love it.”

“Do you like some?” Henry asks, offering them the brew. “I don’t mean a bad decision, but some cheap ale?”

“Yes, please,” Ash replies. “Either one of them is fine. Let’s go.”

Henry pours the beer into a pint and slides it toward Ash. Then, he heads over to one of the cauldrons, fills a mug with stew, and places it in front of Amber. “Three copper,” he says.

Ash pays him with a casual “Righty go mate, thanks.”

Amber, laughing lightly, adds, “Oh mon dieu, really. I forgot how cheap food can be here. I must be doing something wrong.”

“This is the life, Ambs. Come on, live a little,” Ash teases, using the nickname as if it’s natural.

Amber rolls her eyes. “With my life? What did you call me just now?”

“Ambs. Or would you prefer ‘Ambi’?” Ash offers with a smirk.

Amber shakes her head. “I would prefer neither of those. I’m just Amber.”

“That’s so long. Come on, give me something short,” Ash presses.

Amber sighs. “Ambs.”

Ash grins. “Ambs. See? Making friends already.”

Amber leans in, speaking to the barkeep. “What kind of clientele do you usually get here?”

She continues, “My friends saw goblins walking down the street and getting into this tavern. When did that happen?”

The barkeep looks surprised. “Goblins? In here? Not last night, I don’t remember.”

Amber presses, “Why are you surprised?”

Ash chimes in, “Come on, you know goblins have ugly faces and good instincts.”

The barkeep defensively replies, “Are you saying I have an ugly face?”

Ash smirks, “I’m saying goblins have ugly faces.”

Amber interrupts, “Non, monsieur, of course not.”

The barkeep shrugs. “We don’t get many goblins around here. Why ask?”

Amber presses, “But would you allow goblins in the pub?”

The barkeep responds, “Why not, as long as they keep clean. We don’t get many.”

Ash, sensing an opportunity, slides six silver pieces across the bar. “Are you sure you didn’t see any goblins?”

The barkeep slides them toward himself, thinking for a moment. “I might have heard something about goblins…”

Ash asks, “What did you hear?”

He leans in. “There’s a guy, Boris Conley. He comes in sometimes. Talks about goblins and how they’re infesting the city.”

Amber nods. “Where can we find him during the day?”

The barkeep shrugs. “I don’t know.”

Amber sighs, holding out a gold coin. “Tell me more, and I’ll make it worth your while.”

He hesitates, then says, “He’s often here before his shows. He might know more. Might even be here tonight.”

Amber asks, “Not tonight, but where can we find him?”

He shrugs again. “I don’t know where he is during the day.”

Amber thanks him for the information and turns to Ash. “Did you hear that?”

Ash nods. “Yeah, I vaguely remember him. He’s not a good guy, involved in all sorts of crime.”

Amber frowns. “He’s a criminal?”

Ash confirms, “Yeah, pretty sure.”

Amber looks thoughtful. “Masaki must know him then.”

Ash nods. “Maybe.”

Amber turns back to the barkeep, standing up. “Thank you, monsieur. We’ve paid you for the information.” Henry, opens his mouth and asks: “But again, for what purpose do you ask these questions…?”

Ash adds, “We’re just doing an investigation.”

Amber gives a final nod. “That was the deal, so no more questions from you. Have a great day.”

---

Tachibana believes the plan is simple enough. It isn’t far to walk, and he hopes they encounter a Mage Guard on the way. Preferably a Mage Guard, he thinks. With any luck, one of them might help transport one of the petrified goblins to a holding cell. The statues are heavy, after all.

“That’s exactly my experience as well,” Wolfgang replies. “So, could you share your plan with me?”

“I just did,” Tachibana says plainly. “We walk there. Hopefully catch a Mage Guard.”

“And what will your role be?” Wolfgang asks. “What do you expect from me?”

Tachibana explains, “Once we reach the Mage Keep, we can unpetrify one, do an interrogation. Not sure if you’ve ever done one of those before?”

“No,” Wolfgang admits. “That’s not really… No, I’ve never been the main investigator for such things.”

“Then take a back seat and don’t get in the way,” Tachibana advises.

“And just to clarify,” Wolfgang says, “we are still investigating—not eradicating?”

“Obviously,” Tachibana replies. “Eradicating might end up being one of the solutions, but first we need to find out what’s happening. Why are the goblins acting this way? Why so many all of a sudden? Once we know, we can deal with it.”

Wolfgang asks what exactly Tachibana’s responsibilities are as a Red Cloak.

“My duties lie in the realm of magic,” Tachibana explains. “As a Red Cloak, it’s my job to ensure magic and magical artifacts don’t spiral out of control. There are many laws about the use of magic, as you know. I’m trained to uphold those laws and keep the peace where they’re concerned.”

“Interesting,” Wolfgang muses. “We have a few Red Cloaks in our western region.”

“Where exactly are you from?” Tachibana asks.

“My family, the Rüppelshammers, is responsible for the western part of the realm. Westwatch, in the hills. It’s our city.”

“How far is that from here?” Tachibana asks.

“My horse is still being attended,” Wolfgang replies vaguely.

“You live in the hills, on the western edge?” Tachibana clarifies.

“I beg your pardon,” Wolfgang scoffs playfully. “We live in a beautiful castle. Westwatch is the capital.”

“Apologies. I didn’t mean to imply anything,” Tachibana says diplomatically.

Wolfgang laughs. “You live in the hills—like some sort of wolf? Perhaps we’re more alike than we think. My family’s been defending those borders for generations—from infestations, foreign empires, abominations.”

“What kind of infestations?” Tachibana asks.

“Dark creatures. Fey. Fiends. Undead. Yuan’Ti.”

“Sorry,” Tachibana says, “I didn’t catch that last one.”

“Yuan’Ti,” Wolfgang repeats with distaste. “Serpent-folk. Dark magicians. I prefer not to speak of them more than necessary.”

“Right. We don’t see them around here much.”

“And you never will—if we’re doing our job properly,” Wolfgang says with pride.

“I can’t say you’ve done a poor job. But then, why are these creatures invading the kingdom?” Tachibana presses.

“They seek power. They spread lies, draw people into cults. They’re master spies,” Wolfgang admits. “But we patrol from Vulture’s Roost. We watch the hills, run expeditions to find, interrogate, and—when necessary—eradicate them.”

“Then why are you here instead of guarding your homeland?” Tachibana asks pointedly.

“It’s the family’s responsibility, but the peerage doesn’t always handle the day-to-day border defense,” Wolfgang replies. “That’s what the workforce is for.”

“But the workforce still needs leadership, yes? Orders given?” Tachibana presses.

“Indeed,” Wolfgang confirms. “My family holds the title of Count over the western border. I am the heir.”

“So you are the Count?”

“Firstborns in our family are called Counts. My grandfather, Count Rowan Rüppelshammer, still lives. My father is the current head. I am the heir.”

“Many questions this morning,” Wolfgang remarks. “Is this part of your interrogation technique?”

“Not at all,” Tachibana says with a smile. “I didn’t get a chance to ask questions earlier, after our last discussion.”

Wolfgang brings up Amber. He met her years ago during the uprising—she protected his family. “You know her working style. What was she like in the City Watch?”

“Young,” Tachibana says. “Still is. Always close to her brother. You must know that. His absence must weigh heavily on her.”

“You knew her brother too?”

“I did. Or I do—hopefully still.”

“Were they alike?”

“Amber was always… less refined,” Tachibana says. “But she tried. Always striving to be like her brother, to carve out her own name.”

“I’m grateful for her,” Wolfgang says. “Loyal, good company, and a valuable ally.”

“No doubt about her skill or dedication,” Tachibana agrees.

Eventually, they reach the city gate after half an hour of walking and talking. The portcullis is up. Two Mage Guards stand on duty, one tiefling woman with pale skin and blonde hair, the other a human.

Along the way, Tachibana spots a pair of Mage Guards, including a female tiefling he hasn’t met before. He approaches them.

“Good morning,” he says. “Might I trouble you for a moment?”

“Of course,” the tiefling responds.

“You’re aware of the petrification incident at the East Gate?”

“Yes, terrible,” she replies. “One of the victims was a friend of mine. He’s been restored, but he’s still shaken.”

“I’m glad he’s recovered,” Tachibana says. “I’m part of the ongoing investigation. We’re trying to determine who’s behind the attacks.”

“Is there anything we can do?”

“Yes. We’d like assistance transporting one of the petrified goblins to the Mage Guard Keep. It would be safest to question them there, once unpetrified.”

“They’re the statues by the gate?” she asks.

“Yes,” Tachibana confirms.

“We could fetch a cart from the Keep,” she suggests.

“That would help. Or, if there’s a holding cell here, perhaps we can use that instead.”

“There is,” she says. “Might be easier.”

“That’s perfect,” Tachibana replies. “No cart needed then.”

He introduces Wolfgang. “This is Count Wolfgang Rüppelshammer, of the western provinces. He’s aiding in the investigation.”

“A pleasure,” Wolfgang says with a bow. “My mercenary, Amber Ablaze, began this investigation when Masaki was petrified. The Medusa is now chained in the Red Keep.”

“Good to hear,” she responds. “I’m Sarah Mayshadow. This is Derek Shero.”

“Miss Mayshadow,” Wolfgang greets her, “a pleasure on this fine morning.”

“Call me Sarah,” she says warmly.

They part ways, and Tachibana and Wolfgang proceed to the East Gate to coordinate the goblin’s transport. There, two Mage Guards help them lift one of the statues—a female goblin.

“Do they look different in importance?” Tachibana wonders aloud, studying them closely. He examines the statues and determines there’s no clear rank difference—just one male, one female.

“Goblin society’s matriarchal, right?” he asks himself, recalling his studies. He opts for the female.

They move her into the holding cell.

“Thanks,” Tachibana says to the guards. “You can return to your post.”

Wolfgang asks, “Should we bind her?”

“She’s holding a stone knife,” Tachibana notes. “Let’s wrap some rope around her feet. She’ll trip if she lunges. Keep her secure before we use the potion.”

He begins carefully checking the knife, wondering how best to remove it without damage. The blade is petrified, too—fused with her hand at the moment of transformation.

“If you pour the de-petrification fluid,” Wolfgang offers, “I can secure the blade.”

“Perhaps,” Tachibana replies. “Or maybe binding is safer. Just need to figure out the best angle to pour this—head first, probably.”

Masaki and Wolfgang stand just outside the iron-barred cell, their gazes fixed on the goblin inside. Her feet are bound with rope, her body still partially stone from the petrification that had held her in place. The dim torchlight flickers across the damp stone walls as Masaki prepares the potion.

“I’ll apply it,” Masaki mutters, stepping into the cell.

Wolfgang hesitates. “Should we close the door?”

Masaki gives him a look. “I need to get in there first.”

Together, they enter, Masaki holding the vial while Wolfgang positions himself behind the goblin. “Hold her,” Masaki instructs. “I’ll grab the knife once she starts moving.”

He carefully rubs the potion onto her skin. Stone recedes slowly from her knife-wielding hand. As the transformation nears completion, Masaki quietly asks, “Do you speak Goblin, by any chance?”

Wolfgang blinks. “No. Not even a little.”

“Great,” Masaki says, just as the goblin’s eyes blink open.

“What do you want?” she croaks, her voice gravelly.

“Please, relax,” Wolfgang says soothingly. “We mean no harm.”

Masaki quickly snatches the knife from her wrist as she fully reanimates. The goblin stumbles forward and falls to the floor with a grunt.

“Terribly sorry,” Masaki says, helping her up. “Do you remember anything?”

“Where am I?” she demands, panic rising in her voice. “Am I in a cell? Who are you?”

“We’re the ones who unpetrified you,” Masaki explains gently. “You’re safe now.”

“You tied me up!”

“We didn’t know what you’d be like when you came back,” Masaki replies, already untying her. “Just a precaution.”

Wolfgang interjects, “We’d like to know your name, my lady.”

The goblin scowls. “It’s Bait.”

“Bait?” Masaki echoes.

“Bait. Just Bates,” she snaps.

“Alright, Bait,” Masaki says, crouching to meet her eyes. “Why did you attack the carriage?”

“I wanted money. Just money.”

“What for?”

“To trade. For shinies.”

Masaki fishes a copper from his pouch. “These?”

Bait nods eagerly. “Other colors, too.”

“Then trade,” Masaki says, holding up the coin. “Tell me what you know.”

They haggle, Masaki flipping her copper after copper, slowly coaxing details out of her. She admits her boss, Barnau Spine, is behind the attacks. She offers to lead them to him—for the price of a silver.

Masaki strikes a deal. “Tomorrow. Edge of the forest. You show us. More silver then.”

“I want out now,” Bait demands.

“Tomorrow,” Masaki insists. “You’ll be safe. We’ll meet you there.”

She pouts, but agrees. Masaki escorts her to the city edge to ensure she leaves peacefully. She glances back once, then bolts toward the trees.

Wolfgang launches skyward, trailing her from above. He follows her darting path until the forest swallows her whole, dense foliage hiding her trail. Eventually, even his keen eyes lose her.

He lands beside Masaki again, muttering, “She’s fast for her size.”

---

“So it’s only the three of you then?” Montgomery asks, adjusting his posture as though bracing for the inevitable.

Daiki confirms it plainly. Amber, ever dramatic, offers a flurry of faux-French flair, “Oui, mon commerie, oui oui,” then scoffs indignantly as Montgomery asks if they’d mind entering through the back. The request is met with suspicion.

“You’re asking me, partner of Count Wolfgang Rüppelshammer, to go through the back door?” Amber challenges, as though the words themselves were an insult. But Montgomery stammers through his reasoning: comfort, privacy, fresh towels—“Meeting Room Three is just there,” he insists.

Amber resists, until Ash and Daiki coax her. “Come on, it’s fine,” Ash sighs. Begrudgingly, Amber relents, declaring, “We don’t appreciate this,” as they head toward the alley.

At the rear of the tavern, a door creaks open, revealing a small, nervous boy with towels bundled in his arms. “Uh, hello. I brought towels to help you dry off,” he says. Amber, softening slightly, asks his name.

“Isaac,” he offers.

“Merci, Isaac. We’ll dry off, then you can lead us to the meeting room,” she says with a faint wink, slipping him a copper. Isaac’s eyes widen at the gesture.

“I was told to escort you,” he stammers. “I don’t want to lose my job…”

Ash, half-joking, asks if he’s being mistreated. Isaac is quick to deny it. “No, no! This is a good job. I make money for my mother—she’s ill.”

Daiki and Amber exchange a glance, and Amber asks in a lower tone whether Isaac could be… helpful with other tasks, for the right price. “Maybe,” he says. That’s enough for her.

Behind closed doors, they begin drying themselves. Amber theatrically uses a small flame like a magical blow-dryer. Daiki struggles with the concept of towels, eventually wrapping one around himself like a cloak and marveling at its pine scent. “Do I do my robe too?” he asks.

Amber groans and helps, lifting his soaked cloak as Daiki yelps, “Don’t burn it! It’s my only cloak!”

From outside, Isaac calls through the door, concerned by the shouting. “Everything okay?”

“Someone just doesn’t know how to handle a towel,” Amber mutters.

Eventually, they’re dry—more or less—and Isaac collects the damp towels with a smile. He guides them to Meeting Room Three, closer than expected. As they step in, Isaac discreetly wipes up the drips trailing behind them. None of the party notices.

Inside the room, conversation turns reflective. Ash mentions a man they’re meant to confront—clearly dangerous. Amber, skeptical, tries to read her. A brief mental contest ensues, both women trying to gauge the other, but neither quite succeeding. Still, Amber decides—for now—to believe.

They discuss the blurry lines between lies, payment, and loyalty. Daiki, ever the innocent, wonders why coins dictate friendship. “Why can’t you just be friends?” he asks.

Amber explains her contract with Count Wolfgang, while Ash teases that some people need to be paid to have company. Daiki, visibly concerned, says softly, “I feel a little bit sad for Wolfgang now.”

“Me too,” Ash nods. “We should give him a hug when he gets back.”

---

As Masaki enters the tavern, the ever-attentive Montgomery greets him. “Pleasure seeing you again. Where is Count Wolfgang, if I may ask?”

Masaki answers coolly, “Rüppelshammer-sama flew up straight to his room to get changed. He’s quite drenched.”

Meanwhile, Wolfgang stands in his room, undressing. A knock comes. “Count Rüppelshammer, your guests have been waiting in meeting room three. If I could speak with you beforehand, I’d be grateful.”

“Let me dress. I’ll be with you momentarily,” Wolfgang replies, voice muffled by silk and damp boots.

Amber, after her moment of privacy, heads down and greets Isaac at the door with her usual charm. “Merci, Isaac. You’re doing very good business, young man.” She hands him a coin and saunters into the inn, checking her breath and clothes before stepping into meeting room three.

Inside, Masaki is already seated with Daiki and Ashira. The conversation flows easily.

“Good afternoon,” Masaki says, relieved to be out of the rain.

“You don’t look like you’ve been in the rain,” Ashira notes.

Masaki smirks. “Prestidigitation is a wonderful thing.”

The room is warm with laughter and teasing.

“Did you also have to come through the back?” Daiki asks.

“No,” Masaki replies, “but considering how some of you were dressed, I’m not surprised.”

Amber soon enters, offering her breezy bonjour. There’s talk of wet clothes, missed plans, and questionable entrances. Daiki laments that their plan to surprise Wolfgang was vetoed.

Then, the door opens again. Wolfgang enters, dressed in elegant blue silks and clean trousers, his presence instantly commanding. “I see you’ve all arrived. A pleasure finding you in this delicate location.”

Ashira and Daiki rush him for a hug. “Wolfie, it’s nice to see you. I think we got off on the wrong foot,” Ashira offers with a sheepish grin.

Wolfgang tries to smile through the soggy embrace. “Lovely to see you, Daiki… Ashira…” He pulls away, grimacing as his fresh silks absorb unexpected moisture. “Oh my god, I’ve just changed.”

Amber watches with folded arms, shaking her head.

“Gross,” Wolfgang mutters. “Does it smell like wet dogs in here?”

Indeed, wet patches now stain the expensive carpet and plush chairs. “What’s the occasion?” Wolfgang asks, warily eyeing the damp furniture.

Ashira beams. “We just wanted to be friendly. Make more friends.”

“Yes,” Daiki adds innocently. “We thought it was sad you had to pay Amber to come. So we wanted to be your real friends.”

Wolfgang stiffens. “Pardon?”

Ashira adds helpfully, “You didn’t bring anyone with you to Evermere, right? So we thought you must not have any friends. We’re here for you.”

Wolfgang breathes in deeply. “Yes… well. A hug is a start. Respecting boundaries is another. Finding common interests. Sharing tea and biscuits might be a good one too.”

He gestures to the room. “Let us sit. Tea and biscuits will be along shortly.”

Then he leans in to Ashira. “Perhaps Mr. Masaki can show you how to dry your clothes. He was dry in under five minutes.”

“I got a towel,” Ashira says, shrugging. “I’m fine. It’ll dry on its own.”

“Of course,” Wolfgang replies, tight-lipped. “It’s just… better for the furniture. And your health.”

Daiki squints. “Why? It dehydrates your skin?”

“No, it… well. It cools the body. It can lead to discomfort, chills… and yes, ultimately dry skin.”

Daiki stares. “You talk a lot, Wolfgang. With a lot of fancy words.”

Wolfgang sighs, nodding toward the chairs. “Then perhaps we sit and talk about the day. In simpler terms.”

---

Wolfgang watches the group as they chat about their next steps. The investigation into the goblins seems to be at a standstill, but they’ve found a lead in the form of someone who might know more about the plans. “Mr. Masaki is the most experienced investigator currently in service of the city,” Wolfgang says, his voice serious, but he seems to be addressing no one in particular.

Tachibana shrugs, leaning back in his chair. “I offered her some coin, let my eyes do the talking—you know how it goes,” he says with a smirk.

Ash nods in agreement, leaning forward. “Yeah, I know how it goes.”

“She agreed to bring us to her boss tomorrow,” Tachibana continues. “He’s the one who knows all about the goblin plans, apparently.”

“Did you do the money trick like we did?” Daiki asks, his eyes narrowed in curiosity.

Tachibana shakes his head. “Nah, goblins are a bit different. They’re more into shiny objects. But no, I didn’t do any tricks. Just the usual persuasion.” He pauses, turning his attention to the rest of the group. “But no worries, she’ll bring us to her boss in the morning.”

“We went to the pub, and the only person there was the barkeep, Henri?” Amber continues, “He said he didn’t know anything about the goblins but we managed to bribe him. Turns out he knows a guy who might be able to help. He’s a criminal, though, and he’s always in the bar at night.”

Wolfgang glances at Ashira. “Ashira, I couldn’t help but notice you said you know this criminal. May I ask about your experiences in such environments?”

Ash’s expression hardens. “Yeah, that guy’s horrible. He’s the kind who doesn’t get his hands dirty, just makes sure it all happens. Always hiding behind others.” She sighs. “It was a different time, a different life. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Wolfgang presses on. “I think it would be helpful to know who we’re dealing with. It’s uncomfortable.”

“I haven’t been in jail for ten years, if that’s what you’re asking,” Ash replies, her voice low but firm. “I came here for Daiki. I thought we might find some answers.”

But Wolfgang is persistent. “So, Ashira, would you say your past has any impact on this current investigation?”

“It’s over,” Ash replies quickly, her tone final. “I’m not in jail, and I don’t plan on being.”

Wolfgang studies her for a moment before turning to Daiki. “And what about you? Why are you here?”

“I’m here to learn,” Daiki answers, his voice steady. “To gain skills. I want to be a leader.”

Wolfgang’s eyes narrow slightly. “A leader, huh? That’s a nice goal.”

Tachibana smirks. “Well, while we’re sharing, maybe we should all introduce ourselves a bit. You know, get to know each other better.”

Wolfgang hesitates, then leans back in his chair. “I’m the heir to the castle,” he begins, almost absentmindedly. “I’m here to gain experience before I take on more political responsibilities. Adventuring seems like a good way to do that.”

“Right,” Tachibana mutters. “We’re all just here for a good time then.”

The group falls into a brief silence before Amber stands up, stretching. “I think it’s time to get a move on. If we’re going to follow up on the lead tonight, we should head to the bar.”

Wolfgang grimaces. “I’ll pass on the Peanut Pub. I don’t see the need to mingle with the working class.”

Ash gives him a teasing smile. “But that’s where all the action is, Wolfie. Where else would you go?”

Wolfgang shakes his head, clearly uninterested. “I’ll stick to more refined establishments, thank you very much.”

As the conversation shifts to discussing Connolly, the elusive criminal connected to the Nightquill Syndicate, Ash seems uneasy. “I don’t want to talk to him,” she says quietly. “He might remember me. And I don’t want to go back there.”

Tachibana leans forward. “So, if we want to get illegal spell scrolls, he’d be the guy to talk to, right?”

Ash shrugs. “Used to be, but now? I’m not sure. He’s slippery—like a snake. He’ll talk, but it’s never easy.”

Tachibana considers this, tapping his fingers on the table. “If we’re going to find him, we’ll need more than just threats. We need to know what we’re up against.”

Amber, still leaning against the fire, adds, “Once he’s in the pub, everyone will scatter. We won’t catch him that easily.”

Tachibana nods. “I agree. I don’t even know what Connolly’s done, really. He seems to have a way of staying clean while others do his dirty work.”

Ash’s voice is tight. “It’s tricky. But we need to act fast before things get worse.”

The afternoon drags on in the tavern, the group gathered around a small table, discussing their plans. The air is thick with anticipation—tomorrow’s journey into the forest is weighing on their minds, and preparations must be made.

Tachibana, always practical, taps his fingers on the table. “Might not be a bad idea to get some healing stuff. We’re heading into the forest. Could be a two-day trek, who knows? We should stack up on rations, make sure we have water.”

Daiki shrugs. “I can help with the food. I can make goodberries” 

Ash chuckles, leaning back in her chair. “A good song is almost always enough to rest. Maybe even for when you’re dying, yeah?”

Wolfgang raises an eyebrow, watching their banter with amusement. “A requiem, perhaps,” he muses, almost to himself, “But for now, I would prefer some rations, fresh water, and perhaps wine. Amber, do you need anything for your outfits?”

Amber, sitting with a slight frown, shakes her head. “No, I’m fine. But we do need some supplies. And tents, I suppose.” She pauses, looking around at the group. “Any thoughts on where to get some decent water?”

Tachibana leans back in his chair, eyes narrowing. “I’m not paying for fancy water. I’ll go fetch it from somewhere else.”

Wolfgang smiles. “Ah, the northern mineral water. It’s truly exceptional. You should try it, Amber.”

Amber wrinkles her nose. “You and your fancy tastes. If we’re heading into the forest, I doubt we’ll be sipping mineral water on the way.”

“You can always ask the trees for a canopy,” Daiki says nonchalantly, his fingers twirling in the air as if making a wind swirl.

Tachibana raises an eyebrow. “You can do that?”

“Of course! Everyone can ask. But if the trees don’t reply, maybe you’re not polite enough,” Daiki says with a grin, clearly enjoying the confusion.

“I don’t speak tree,” Tachibana mutters.

As the conversation turns to more practical matters, Wolfgang pipes up again. “Speaking of supplies, I need a dagger. Anyone know where I can get a good one?”

Amber, always the resourceful one, leans forward. “Ironclad’s a good armory. It’s not far. For finer weapons, that’s where you’d go. But how fancy do you want it?”

Wolfgang considers for a moment. “Something useful, something I can be proud to use. But not too extravagant.”

“Of course,” Amber agrees. “We’ll get you set up. I know the place.”

Tachibana shifts uneasily in his seat. “And what about that criminal? Are we still going after him?”

Amber sighs, her fingers drumming on the table. “No, not right now. We’ll prepare for tomorrow first. We’ll deal with him in the evening.”

Daiki perks up, offering an idea. “We could ask the little rats to spy on him for us. I can speak to them.”

Tachibana, unamused, crosses his arms. “Not a fan of rats, but… I guess it’s an option. We could keep tabs on him that way.”

Wolfgang, who’s been quiet up until now, nods slowly. “I’ll leave this to you all. My focus is on my new weapon.” He grins, the thought of a new blade clearly exciting him.

The group shifts their focus to the tasks at hand: shopping for the journey, acquiring a weapon, and making preparations for tomorrow’s adventure.