16 May 2024
This is from that same series of Tumblr posts that inspired both yesterday’s and the recent Rumpelstilskin stories. It went something like this: “You finished the quest and killed the dragon. However, instead of giving you the promised rewards, the townsfolk chase you out. So you do something no one’s dared do. You resurrect the dragon.”
Rumors of the dragon terrorizing the town of Birchwood had spread for weeks, with no news that anyone had managed to defeat it. So Valia had understandably expected the town to be more than a little run down, with its citizens cowering out of sight, any that remained.
Instead, the town seemed as busy as ever. Children played freely in the streets, and well-dressed housewives chatted with each other at the market. No patches on any of the pants or dresses, and Valia caught a whiff of one woman wearing an expensive perfume as she walked by.
She made her way to the adventurer’s guild, noting that the building was far more grand than the guild would require in a town of this size. The silence within only reinforced the feeling; instead of the crowds laughing and shouting among the tables that Valia was used to, the place was deathly quiet with only a couple of receptionists manning the desk.
Valia walked up to one, a younger woman with light brown hair pulled back in a bun. The reception flashed her a customer service smile. “Can I help you?”
“I’m here about the dragon.”
“Ah, yes.” The receptionist handed he a stack of paper. “The quest information is on top; underneath you can find the usual contracts, wavers, etc. Once you’ve finished filling these out, you’ll be free to pursue the dragon at your leisure.”
With a nod, Valia took the paperwork and retreated to a table near the window. The contract seemed fairly standard. The reward was a bit low for a case growing this infamous, though still within acceptable limits, at least as far as Valia was concerned.
Once she finished reviewing and signing everything, Valia took a few moments to stare out the window. A minute or two later, the receptionist came by and brought out a mug of ale. Valia raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t order this.”
“On the house. As a courtesy for any would-be dragon hunters. Unless you prefer something else? Water, perhaps?”
“It’s fine.” Valia turned her gaze back to the window. “Is this town really dealing with a dragon problem, though?”
The receptionist tilted her head. “What do you mean?”
There was a moment of silence before Valia replied, “It’s nothing.” She pushed the paperwork toward the receptionist. “Is there anything else you need before I head out?”
The reception quickly flipped through the stack. “Everything looks to be in order. Good luck on your hunt!”
Valia stood and slunk out the door, leaving her drink untouched.