Morning sunlight crept through the stained-glass windows of the Adventurer's Guild hall as Hans von Eisenhart and Shuna stood before the quest board. Their quiet surveys concealed ambitions far greater than mere coin. Today they would tackle a high-stakes Copper‐Rank mission—one that Hans believed would edge his title upward in the eyes of E-Naeul's adventuring circles.
Shuna's delicate fingers brushed the parchment postings, her keen eyes flitting across job titles and reward amounts. "There's a shipment of refined copper plates stolen from the Seaside Warehouse," she murmured. "They've been diverted to a bandit stronghold among the coastal cliffs. Payment is substantial—forty silver per plate."
Hans nodded, gauging the risk. "Forty silver each, fifty plates… two thousand silver total. Enough to boost our notoriety. But first, we need to deal with those brutes." He cast a sidelong glance at a group of rugged adventurers—five towering figures garbed in mismatched armor—leaning against a pillar near the reception desk.
One of the men leaned forward, loud enough for the hall to hear. "Look at this noble's wife," he slurred, eyes raking Shuna's figure. "She's almost too pretty to waste. How about you spend a night with me, sweetheart?" He winked, then guffawed.
Another shaved-headed bully scoffed. "A night's hardly enough. I'd need a week to show her what a real man can do." The other thugs jeered in agreement, leering at Shuna and ignoring the guild's stifled gasps. The receptionist behind the counter pressed a trembling hand to her lips, unwilling to risk the gang's anger.
Hans's jaw clenched. He inhaled slowly, voice low. "If only my rank would rise when I slay vermin like you," he muttered, half to himself. Then he squared his shoulders. "Shuna, choose the copper‐plate mission. I'll see to these fools." Without waiting for her reply, he strode past the desk toward the jeering group.
Their laughter trailed him. "What's this, Hans von Eisenhart?" the leader jeered, arms folded. "Going to pick on a real man?"
Hans stopped a pace behind them. In a single breath he whispered, "I'll be using my katana… while sheathed."
Before any could react, his form blurred. The five ruffians' shrieks tore through the hall as steel hissed from its scabbard. In the space of heartbeats, Hans had passed behind each man, precise strikes delivered without warning. One by one they crumpled, mortally wounded, blood pooling like spilled ink across the guild's polished floor. Panic erupted as adventurers scrambled for cover.
When the screams ceased, Hans reappeared before the reception desk. He adjusted his cloak, the katana returning with a whispered slide to its sheath. Calmness draped his features. "Shuna, have you finished with the mission registration?" he asked, voice steady as though no chaos had just unfolded.
Shuna rose from behind the counter, her expression measured. "Yes, Dear," she said, glancing at the blood-slick floor. "But you've spilled more than necessary. This… may draw unwanted attention."
Hans's lips twitched with a courteous half-smile. "No one escaped," he pointed out quietly. "That's the important part. We can clean up afterward."
Shuna's eyebrow quirked. "We?"
"I'll take a few minutes," Hans replied. He dipped into a fluid crouch and vanished through the guild's side door.
Minutes later, Hans returned alone, wiping the last smear of crimson from the threshold. "Done," he announced softly, voice carrying a hint of satisfaction.
Shuna stepped forward, smoothing her sleeves. "Shall we depart?" she asked.
"Let us go," Hans agreed, dropping a few silver coins into the bounty box for the fallen ruffians' stolen gear. Then they slipped into the bright street beyond.
Hans and Shuna guided themselves through winding alleys toward the western coast. A briny breeze rolled in off the ocean, and gulls wheeled overhead as they followed the guild's waypoint.
"It lies beyond the Shattered Pier," Shuna read from the mission scroll. "A narrow trail climbs the cliffs. Bandits have converted an old mining outpost into their base. Retrieve all fifty copper plates and return them to the Seaside Warehouse."
Hans nodded. "Simple, and perfectly fitting for Copper‐Rank—though we'll need to move swiftly to avoid reinforcing patrols."
They activated a pair of small teleportation crystals, stepping through shimmering light and emerging on a jutting stone ledge high above the surf. Below them, waves crashed against barnacled rocks. The old mining ruins sat twenty paces away, darkened by shadow and overgrowth.
Shuna summoned a pair of shadow familiars—small, wispy creatures that skittered ahead to scout the path. Hans drew Crimson Fang briefly, testing its weight before resheathing it. He ran his fingers along the blue-and-green runes etched across his skin, feeling mana tighten his muscles.
They proceeded down the narrow trail, the familiars guiding them through slippery gravel and loose scree. At the base of the cliff, they paused behind a collapsed support beam, peering into the entrance of the makeshift stronghold.
Inside, torchlight flickered over weathered stone walls. Half a dozen bandits lounged before a pile of copper plates stacked on wooden pallets. Two guards dozed, leaning on crude spears. One man counted coins, mascara of greed in his eyes.
Hans exchanged a nod with Shuna. Then, as one, they struck.
Hans advanced in silent steps. His blade whispered free, slicing through both sentries' carotid arteries before a breath could be taken. Crimson blood spattered across the stone as the first guard collapsed. Shuna conjured a burst of shadow magic that extinguished the torches, plunging the chamber into near darkness.
A field of soft green light blossomed around her, revealing her form in eerie radiance. She stepped forward, drawing arcane sigils in the air. The bandit counting coins also fell, throat opened by a single precise strike from Hans's sheathed katana—so swift it left no time for alarm.
Within moments, the stronghold fell silent except for the hiss of dying embers. Hans sheath-sheathed his blade. Shuna's shadow creatures slinked back into invisibility. They crossed the chamber and unshackled five terrified laborers kept as hostages—miners kidnapped to pry more copper from the jagged cliffs outside. The grateful men glimpsed their rescuers with awe and trembling relief.
With the laborers secured, Hans and Shuna surveyed the stacked pallets. "Careful," Hans whispered. He and Shuna lifted each heavy plate, stacking them neatly in reinforced leather bags. Fifty plates were accounted for, each weighing nearly twenty pounds. They worked in silence, fluid cooperation honed by years of unspoken intimacy.
Outside, the dawn light had softened into afternoon gold. The rescued miners led the way as Hans and Shuna retraced their steps up the narrow cliff trail. Waves thundered below, but none dared challenge the rising heroes.
They paused at the teleportation crystal to return to E-Naeul. The miners offered humble thanks, promising to spread word of their saviors. Hans and Shuna shared a brief smile, then vanished in a ripple of light.
Moments later they stepped through the gates of the Seaside Warehouse, greeted by frantic dockworkers and guild officials. Hans transported the copper plates to the designated stockpiles while Shuna presented the rescued miners to the proper authorities. News of their deed had already circulated, and a modest crowd had gathered.
The guild's receptionist, clutching her official ledger, recorded the plates and distributed reward vouchers totaling forty silver per plate—two thousand silver in all. Guildmates applauded politely, acknowledging the couple's bravery and efficiency.
Hans bowed in thanks, then turned to Shuna with genuine warmth. "Not many would dare rescue laborers and recover stolen copper in one swift stroke."
Shuna brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "We did what needed doing. Now our reputations grow by the hour."
They collected their vouchers and shared a conspiratorial glance. Their next steps would remain hidden—but for now, they would claim their just rewards.
On exiting the guild hall, Hans paused to gaze at the horizon. Fishermen cast nets into glowing waters, and the city hummed with renewed energy. Recovered copper plates would soon melt in the forge, reshaping into tools, armor, and artistry. And across E-Naeul, the legend of a fallen noble and his enigmatic wife grew.
Also, if you enjoy my writing and want to support me, consider subscribing to my Patreon: [patreon.com/Writing_when_bored].