Fetch Quest

Bring News to the Woman

The next day, the two adventurers met with Helga at the temple. The priestess imparted that the two priests were recovering and all in all, there had been no casualties. The family and friends of the deceased man were a bit traumatized, but they were relieved to still be alive. Helga said she would work on tracking where Nethes' spirit went and notify Lang if any new developments arose. As before, there was little for the two adventurers to do other than wait for the quest to progress.

"Miscellaneous quest time!" Lang pumped his fist as he left the temple.

"Who are we going to assist this time?" Azazel asked.

Lang rubbed his chin, "I'll let you pick this one. It'll be good practice."

"Oh... alright then," Azazel looked around at the various houses along the street, "We're still looking for something that sends us into the forest right?"

"Certainly. We've been lucky so far; let's see if you can continue that."

Azazel snorted, "Don't look at me if you want luck."

"I have the utmost faith in you," Lang placed a hand over his chest.

The woman decided on a road at random and led the way to a cluster of stores. This appeared to be the village's main market district. On their left, a muscular bearded man hammered on a red hot piece of metal at his anvil. To their right were several small stalls selling produce or game. Further down, wooden signs advertised shops including a tailor, butcher, and grocer. Townspeople walked up and down the busy street, buying and bartering from the establishment owners.

"This looks like a good place to find a quest," Azazel said, full of confidence. She tapped a passing woman on the shoulder, "Excuse me miss, is there anything you need done? In the forest perhaps?"

The lady gave her an odd look and shook her head, "I'm fine thanks."

"Don't worry about it," Lang smiled as the villager walked away, "Not everyone is exciting."

"Right," the woman nodded. She caught the attention of a man, "Do you need help with anything sir? My companion and I are heroes looking for adventure."

"Have you heard of the High Elves?" the man asked.

Azazel blinked, her mouth half open, "Uh... no?"

"Goodbye!" the villager turned on his heel and went back the way he had come. Lang placed his hand on the confused woman's shoulder. Azazel looked back at him, her brow furrowed, "What was that?"

"I think he just had social anxiety," the hero said sagely, "He tried to start a conversation but it didn't work out, so he left as soon as possible."

"Do High Elves even exist?"

"Not as far as I know."

"This is going terribly."

"Yes. Yes it is," Lang agreed.

"You're not encouraging at all," Azazel grumbled, shaking the man's hand free, "Let's go ask a shop keeper." She scanned the signs and pushed open the door to the grocer's. The air inside stank of spices and herbs, causing the woman to cough involuntarily. Once she recovered, she noticed an older woman was watching her from behind a countertop on the other side of the room. Behind the elder were several shelves laden with tin canisters and boxes. Dried herbs hung from racks on the ceiling, likely the cause of the strong stench.