The reddish dust of the road, fine as talcum powder, clung to Roland's worn leather boots, forming an earthy patina that spoke of leagues traveled and relentless suns. The mid-morning sun already stung the back of his neck, promising a hot and dry day. As he approached the small cabin, an unexpected haven in the middle of the parched plain, Roland appreciated the details that made it unique.
It wasn't a miserable shack, as one might expect from a hermit herbalist. The walls, built with whitewashed adobe, were surprisingly clean, and although the thatched roof showed signs of age, it didn't seem about to collapse. A small garden, a burst of color in the midst of the ochre monotony of the landscape, surrounded the house. Flowers of vibrant colors - scarlet poppies, blue forget-me-nots, purple bellflowers - mixed with aromatic herbs and plants with a more medicinal appearance. The air, laden with the sweet scent of chamomile and lavender, also carried a more pungent, almost metallic odor that Roland couldn't identify. A soft buzzing of bees, drawn by the floral abundance, filled the air, competing with the distant song of a cuckoo, a melancholic melody that seemed to foreshadow something.
"Sebastián?" Roland shouted, his voice, toughened by years of shouting orders in the midst of battles and negotiating prices in noisy markets, echoing in the morning silence. He paused, listening. The only sound that responded was the crunching of his own boots on the gravel of the path. "Is anyone home? We're from the Eldoria Adventurers' Guild. We're here about the goblin issue. We were told you're the local plant expert... especially the poisonous ones."
A few seconds of silence, and then, the dark wooden door, worn but solid, creaked open. A young man, no more than twenty-five years old, appeared in the doorway. He had short, dark brown hair, tousled as if he had just gotten out of bed, and warm brown eyes, but now they reflected a mix of surprise and caution. His face, with pleasant features, though not particularly striking, showed fine lines of worry around his eyes and a shadow of incipient beard. He wore simple clothes, of earth-colored linen, stained here and there with green and brown, a testament to his trade. In his slender but strong hands, he held a small stone mortar, in which there were still traces of a greenish paste.
"Good morning, sir adventurer," Sebastián replied, forcing a kind smile. "A pleasure. Although I fear my knowledge of poisonous plants won't be of much use against goblins. Wouldn't it be more prudent to seek the help of a cleric? Someone who can heal wounds, or even..." He left the sentence unfinished, unable to pronounce the word "resurrect."
The adventurer, a burly man who must have been around fifty, with graying and thinning hair, and skin tanned by the sun and wind like old leather, let out a hearty laugh. The wrinkles around his brown eyes, usually deep, multiplied, revealing a mix of wisdom, experience, and a touch of mischief.
"Call me Roland, lad. 'Sir Adventurer' sounds too pompous, don't you think?" He patted Sebastián on the shoulder, a friendly but surprisingly strong blow that made him stagger slightly. "And as for the cleric... let's just say our coffers aren't exactly overflowing. Our payment is only for the investigation, and bringing in a healer would be a luxury we can't afford. Besides," he added, with a wink, "we're E-rank adventurers. Explorers, more than warriors. We don't expect to face an army of goblins, we just want to find out what they're up to."
Sebastián frowned, feeling the initial unease returning. E-rank adventurers? That meant they were the most novice, the least experienced, those who accepted any mission, no matter how dangerous or poorly paid. Not exactly a company that inspired confidence.
"I understand," Sebastián said, trying to hide his nervousness. "But I fear I'll be more of a burden than a help. I'm not a fighter, as you've probably deduced. My skills are limited to herbs, potions... and tasks that don't require much... physical strength." He gestured vaguely toward the cabin, as if to emphasize his lack of aptitude for adventure. Maybe I should have asked for more information before accepting.
"Nonsense," Roland replied, with a reassuring smile that, nevertheless, failed to completely dispel Sebastián's doubts. "E-rank we may be, but we're not useless. We've had our scrapes, I assure you. And this little excursion is planned down to the last detail. We're not going to engage in combat if we can avoid it. My job is to bring you back safe and sound, and I guarantee you I will." His eyes gleamed with a mix of determination and... defiance? "Besides," he added, in a softer tone, "who knows... maybe you'll find some rare and valuable plant along the way. Something that makes this adventure worthwhile, beyond the money."
The mention of new plants rekindled Sebastián's interest. The possibility of discovering an unknown species, of adding new knowledge to his already extensive repertoire, was a temptation difficult to resist. Maybe Roland was right. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, after all.
"In that case," Sebastián said, with a more genuine smile, "I accept your proposal, Roland. And the pay?"
"Seventeen Argentium coins. The guild gives us seventy-one for the mission. There are three of us, so seventeen are for you. A good chunk, don't you think?"
"A fair deal," Sebastián replied, feeling the excitement beginning to outweigh the worry. "By the way, where are the other members of your team? I'd like to meet them before we leave."
"Waiting for us at the town inn. Follow me. I warn you they might seem a little... rough, but they're good people. Trustworthy."
And so, with a mix of curiosity, apprehension, and a hint of hope, Sebastián found himself following Roland along the dusty path that led away from the cabin. The sun, already high in the sky, warmed his back, and the wind, dry and warm, whispered promises of adventure and danger in his ear. He had no idea what the future held, but one thing was certain: his quiet and solitary life as an herbalist was about to change, and the dark and mysterious shadow of the dungeon, in some way, already loomed over him, though he was not yet aware of it. Fate, like a patient predator, had already begun to weave its web.