The Adventurer's Association was a cacophony of ambition and bravado, a place where those who sought glory and gold converged. Amukelo and Eliss, their attire and demeanor marking them as outsiders, moved through the throng of seasoned fighters and spellcasters to the reception desk, where a young woman presided over the dispatching of quests with an air of practiced efficiency.
Upon their inquiry, the receptionist eyed them with a mix of curiosity and scrutiny. "How experienced are you?" she asked, her tone neutral yet expectant.
"We've faced many dangers and have journeyed through the Abyss," Amukelo replied, his voice carrying the weight of their adventures.
The receptionist considered this, then handed them a scroll. The task was to hunt a sand worm—a creature they were already intimately familiar with. As they left the buzz of the association behind, Eliss leaned closer to Amukelo. "I kept the head of the last worm we defeated," she confided. "I thought it might be useful for research, perhaps even as a reagent for my spells."
Amukelo nodded in agreement. "First, let's explore the town and then return here," he suggested, feeling the need to understand more about this place that had become their temporary refuge.
Their stroll through the town was marked by the sights and sounds of daily life until a commotion in an alleyway caught their attention. A group of children were ganging up on a smaller one, their jeers cruel and their intent clear as they landed blows on the defenseless kid.
Without a second thought, Amukelo stepped into the fray, his voice authoritative as he commanded, "Stop this at once!"
The ringleader, a boy with a scowl that seemed too harsh for his young age, rounded on Amukelo. "Mind your own business, stranger," he spat out. When Amukelo refused to back down, the boy, fueled by misguided bravado, drew a dagger and lunged.
Surprise flickered across Amukelo's features, swiftly replaced by the calm of experience. He sidestepped the clumsy attack with ease, disarming the boy with a practiced hand. The dagger clattered to the ground, and the would-be assailant found himself empty-handed and outmatched.
The gang of children, their confidence shattered, retreated with a mixture of fear and resentment. The leader, his pride wounded, shot a parting threat over his shoulder. "You'll regret this!"
Amukelo watched them go, the dagger now in his possession a testament to the encounter. He turned to the kid they had saved, who was now picking himself up from the dirt, his eyes wide with a mix of gratitude and shock.
As the bullies disappeared into the labyrinth of the town, Eliss turned to Amukelo. "Are you alright?" she asked, concern evident in her voice.
Amukelo nodded. "I'm fine. It takes more than a child with a dagger to catch me off guard," he reassured her with a wry smile.
Eliss, her gaze softening, knelt beside the boy who had been their target. "What happened? Why did they attack you?" she inquired, her voice carrying the warmth that the harsh desert sun lacked.
The boy, who introduced himself as Liam, explained in halting breaths that his life was one of poverty and desperation. His sister, Ella, was gravely ill, and in his helplessness, he had resorted to stealing the herbs necessary for her care. His eyes, when he mentioned his sister, were pools of worry and fear.
Eliss's heart clenched at the tale. "Once we claim the bounty from our quest, we will help you," she promised, her words not just a comfort but a vow.
Liam led them through the narrow, shadowed paths to a crumbling abode in the slums. The structure was barely more than ruins, a hollow echo of a home. Inside, under a threadbare blanket, lay Ella. Her skin was ashen, her breaths shallow—a fragile life hanging by a thread.
"She has been weak for a long time now. At the beginning I tried to work to provide her with herbs, but it wasn't enough" Liam spoke with a bit of sadness.
Eliss said with a clear determination. "We will return soon. Hold on a little longer." She affirmed.
The two adventurers made their way back to the Adventurer's Association, the weight of the siblings' plight heavy on their shoulders. The promise of aid was a beacon that guided their steps, a purpose that lent strength to their stride.
As they navigated the sun-soaked streets, intent on their mission, they were abruptly stopped. A man dressed in the fine garb of wealth, with an air of authority and arrogance, blocked their path. At his side stood one of the bullies, the very one who had brandished a dagger at Amukelo.
The man introduced himself with a pompous air. "I am Maryam," he declared, his voice dripping with self-importance.
Before Amukelo or Eliss could respond, kid stepped forward, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and defiance. "They were the ones that bullied me," he accused, pointing at Eliss and Amukelo.