On the village's dirt path, a peasant woman hurried along, clutching a heavy wooden bucket. She shot a suspicious glance at the four adventurers before veering onto a side trail.
More peasant women and elders approached, all eyeing the adventurers with guarded stares, sidestepping them without giving the group a chance to strike up a conversation.
The sky was grim, a crescent moon slowly taking shape on the horizon. The Last Defender of the Way party reached the door of a larger house, its windows flickering with the yellow glow of a hearth fire, the faint aroma of pork fat sizzling in a pan wafting out.
Barrett stepped up to the oak door, his broad knuckles rapping lightly, a soft "thud-thud" echoing. They were hoping to find a place to crash for the night.
The door creaked open halfway, revealing an old woman with a face full of wrinkles standing in the gap, warm yellow light spilling out from behind her. She studied Barrett with a mix of confusion and wariness.
Barrett leaned down, hunching to seem less imposing to the tiny woman. After a moment to gather his words, he said, "Evening, ma'am. We're travelers from the north of the kingdom. Mind if we bunk at your place for the night?"
The old woman sized up Barrett's gear, a spark of recognition in her eyes. "Adventurers, eh?"
Barrett flashed his friendliest grin. "Yup, we're mithril-level adventurers. We'll pay you for…"
Clang! The door slammed shut, cutting off Barrett's half-spoken word "golden coin" and blocking out the warm glow from inside.
From behind the door came the metallic clank of a bolt sliding into place. Clearly, the old woman saw adventurers like they were plague-ridden chickens flapping their wings, terrified their filth would barge right through.
Watching veteran adventurer Barrett strike out, EeDechi shook her head. "Kid, looks like you've got no grassroots know-how. Next time, let me handle it. I'll school you."
Barrett was long used to EeDechi, a good decade younger, calling him "kid" or "young man." He stepped back with a shrug, and the four of them trudged down the village path until they reached another house, this one big enough to maybe have a spare room for them to crash in.
EeDechi stepped up and knocked. Moments later, an old man cracked open the door.
The adventurer captain cleared her throat with a cough, a sly smile curling her lips. "Hey there, friend, we're a disciplined crew, wouldn't dream of taking a single thread from folks like you…"
Bang! The door slammed in her face, her smile frozen in place.
Barrett, expecting EeDechi to pull some slick move, barely stifled a laugh. "Captain, what was that spiel for? These villagers are way too paranoid. Only cold, hard gold's gonna sway 'em!"
Barrett had been an adventurer for nearly twenty years, so getting the cold shoulder was something he'd long since learned to stomach with a grin.
In these isolated, hard-to-reach villages, a bunch of strangers strolling in—wielding magic, swinging swords, and built for bloodshed—would make anyone twitchy and defensive.
But something was off. These villagers were way too on edge.
Farmers usually didn't mind adventurers. A straight-shooting one could take down the monsters that munched crops or mauled folks, all while trading gold for the villagers' harvests and passing along juicy gossip from other towns.
If a village was a kingdom, adventurers were its heroes, mail carriers, and traveling merchants rolled into one.
Unless, of course, some adventurers had already stirred up trouble in this little kingdom of Sheep Horn. Plenty of rotten adventurers could flip between hero and bandit without missing a beat. Ten years back, when quests were scarce, Barrett himself had moonlighted as a bandit now and then. Though, naturally, he fancied himself more of a heroic outlaw.
The thought hit Barrett hard, especially paired with the eerie lack of young men in Sheep Horn. A knot of worry tightened in his gut.
The party reached a small brick-and-wood farm on the village's southern edge. The sky had gone full dark, a deep blue night swallowing everything. A young woman, clutching a small copper lantern, was herding a few goats into a shed.
This time, Stella stepped up. She ignited her staff, a soft white glow blooming from its tip, while her left hand clutched a few gold coins. She approached the shepherd girl to chat.
The shepherd girl was about Stella's height. Under the gentle magical light, her fiery red hair gleamed, her face dusted with faint freckles.
Her envious gaze flicked from the cleric girl's staff to the shiny gold coins in her palm, then to EeDechi, who stood nearby with a stern, righteous look. Finally, it settled on Barrett and Sean, the two burly men behind Stella, a hint of wariness creeping onto her face.
After Stella explained their purpose, the shepherd girl nodded reluctantly. "I need to report to the village chief. Come with me."
The four adventurers, hauling the not-so-lively twin sisters Ureirika and Kuuderika, followed the shepherd girl along a winding, twisting path.
Barrett nudged EeDechi. "See? Told ya. Flash some gold, and you'll get a roof over your head. There's nothing in this world gold can't fix. And if there is, just throw more gold at it!"
EeDechi shook her head, unimpressed. "We got a place to stay because of sincerity and goodwill, not coin. Stella's got more heart than you, and that's what won them over. Don't think just because you've seen a lot, you can sum up the world. I'm telling you, there are still plenty of decent, kind folks out there."
Both seemed to assume the village chief would let them crash in Sheep Horn for the night. The shepherd girl chimed in, reassuring them that while the chief was stubborn as a mule, he was sharp enough to see a win-win deal and would likely let them stay.
They reached what looked like the village center, where the chief's home—a squat wooden cabin—stood. The shepherd girl knocked, stepped inside, and started talking with the chief.
Soon, the cabin door swung open again. The shepherd girl emerged, followed by a scrawny old man under the dim orange glow of her lantern.
The old man was ancient, his face a map of wrinkles, his hair nearly gone except for a few wispy white strands flapping in the autumn breeze like threads glued to his scalp.
Barrett and the old man locked eyes, and in that moment, Barrett wanted nothing more than to slap a hand over his own face and another over EeDechi's.
They hadn't seen it coming—the village chief was the same stubborn old coot from yesterday's market, the one selling herbs.
Back then, they'd gone at it over the price of boragis nocturnalis, trading barbs for ages. Barrett had stormed off, tossing out a parting shot that if he were still a bandit, he'd rob greedy old geezers like him first.
Now, stuffed in Barrett's spatial ring was the small bundle of boragis nocturnalis he'd grabbed from the stall after tossing four gold coins in the old man's face.
EeDechi felt the awkwardness too, but as the adventurer team's captain, she stepped up. "Sir, our young friend here might've come off a bit brash before, and we hope—"
"Run them out! Sheep Horn doesn't welcome these adventurers!"