The gates of the Northgate Outpost creaked open, revealing a bustling courtyard lined with storage sheds, training areas, and the main barracks. Guards patrolled the walls while adventurers milled about, either preparing for their next mission or returning from the wilderness beyond. The outpost was a hub of activity, yet Kael immediately sensed a tension hanging in the air.
Gregor urged the cart forward, guiding it toward a large storage building on the far side of the courtyard. "You," he said, gesturing to Kael. "Help me unload these supplies. The faster we get this done, the sooner we can head back to Valens."
Kael nodded meekly. "Of course." He followed Gregor's lead, lifting a crate from the cart and carrying it into the storage shed. Inside, shelves were lined with various supplies—food, medical equipment, weapons, and potions—organized in a way that spoke of necessity rather than order.
As he worked, Kael kept his eyes and ears open, listening to the snippets of conversation around him. Most of it was mundane chatter about missions, complaints about supply shortages, and the occasional gripe about the guild's leadership. It was in those complaints that Kael focused his attention.
"—got a nasty cut on my arm out there," one adventurer was grumbling to another near the entrance of the storage shed. "But guess what? No more healing potions. We're supposed to wait for the next supply run. They're hoarding them back at the guild."
The other adventurer, a stocky woman with a scar across her nose, nodded grimly. "Typical. The higher-ups think they can just keep everything centralized in Valens. Meanwhile, we're out here taking the hits."
Kael glanced over at them, feigning disinterest as he carried another crate past. Inside, however, his mind was whirling. Interesting, he thought. The outpost was undersupplied, and the adventurers here were beginning to resent the centralized control of resources by the guild's main base. This resentment could be another wedge he could use to widen the cracks within the guild's structure.
"Hey," Gregor barked, breaking through his thoughts. "Focus on what you're doing. This isn't the place to be gawking around."
"Right, sorry," Kael mumbled, quickly ducking his head and continuing his work. He couldn't afford to draw attention by appearing too curious. Still, his earlier observations had given him exactly the kind of information he needed. The outpost's isolation and lack of resources made it vulnerable, and the discontent brewing among its members was ripe for exploitation.
After unloading the supplies, Kael followed Gregor toward a small building near the barracks. It was a modest structure, with a weathered sign indicating it as the outpost's administrative office. "Wait here," Gregor instructed. "I need to report in."
Kael nodded, watching as Gregor stepped inside. This was his chance to observe the outpost's inner workings more closely. He glanced around, noting the adventurers coming and going, their expressions ranging from weary to grim. Most of them bore signs of recent combat—bandaged limbs, scratches, and tired eyes. It was clear that life on the frontier was far harsher than within the walls of Valens.
"Hey, you," a voice called out from behind him. Kael turned to find a lean man in light armor approaching, his eyes sharp and calculating. "You're new, aren't you?"
Kael offered a tentative smile. "Yes, first mission," he replied, allowing his nervousness to show. "I was just helping with the supply cart."
The man studied him for a moment before nodding. "Name's Doran. I help keep things running smoothly around here—or at least try to," he added with a wry smile. "The guild isn't exactly known for its efficiency."
Kael chuckled awkwardly, pretending to relax. "I've noticed," he admitted. "It seems like things are a bit... stretched thin."
Doran snorted. "You could say that. We're practically begging for more supplies, but they keep holding them back in Valens. We're the ones risking our lives out here, and they can't even spare a few extra potions."
Kael nodded sympathetically, sensing an opportunity to dig deeper. "Why do they keep things so centralized?" he asked, keeping his tone light and curious. "Wouldn't it make more sense to supply the outposts where the real danger is?"
Doran's eyes flickered with irritation. "You'd think so, but it's all about control. The higher-ups in the guild want everything to flow through them. They claim it's for efficiency and safety, but in reality, it's about keeping power in their hands."
Control, Kael mused. That aligned with what he had learned back at the guildhall—the higher ranks and nobles held sway over resources, leaving the lower ranks and outposts to fend for themselves. It was a system ripe for tension and conflict, and Kael could see how he might exploit it.
"That seems... unfair," Kael said cautiously, testing the waters. "Especially for those of you out here."
"Unfair?" Doran let out a bitter laugh. "It's more than unfair; it's reckless. We're losing people because we don't have the supplies we need. But what can we do? It's not like we have a say in how things are run."
Kael nodded thoughtfully, planting a seed of discontent. "I suppose that's how it is," he said softly. "But things like that... they tend to change when people get fed up enough."
Doran looked at him sharply, his gaze assessing. For a moment, Kael thought he might have pushed too far, but then Doran shrugged. "Maybe. But it would take a lot to change the way things are. The guild's too entrenched in its ways."
Kael simply nodded again, keeping his expression neutral. "Yeah, I guess you're right." For now, he added silently.
Gregor emerged from the administrative building, his face set in a grim line. "All done here," he said, nodding to Doran before turning to Kael. "Let's head back to Valens. We've got a long road ahead."
Kael fell into step beside Gregor, offering a polite nod to Doran as they left. As they made their way back to the cart, his mind raced with what he had learned. The outpost's vulnerability, the discontent among its members, the resource hoarding by the guild—it was all useful information.
"Did you learn anything useful while you were standing around?" Gregor asked gruffly as they approached the cart.
Kael blinked, then forced a sheepish smile. "Not really," he lied. "Just talked to a few people. They seem... tired."
Gregor grunted, climbing onto the cart. "Of course they're tired. Life out here isn't for the weak." He glanced at Kael, his eyes narrowing. "You'll find that out soon enough, if you last."
"I suppose I will," Kael replied, his voice steady. Oh, I'll last, he thought. Longer than you realize.
As they set off on the road back to Valens, Kael sat silently, his eyes on the passing forest. This mission had given him what he needed: insight into the guild's weaknesses and the simmering unrest among its members. He now had a clearer picture of how to leverage the situation to fulfill the System's contract.
[Contract Progress: 80% - Discontent Identified]
The System's voice echoed in his mind, and Kael allowed himself a fleeting smile. The pieces were falling into place. He had stirred up tension within the guildhall, observed the cracks in the guild's structure at the outpost, and identified the resentment that could be used to sow further discord.
Now, it was just a matter of waiting for the right moment to make his next move.
"Keep watching, keep listening," he murmured to himself as the cart rumbled along. "This is only the beginning."