"For now, we return," Jamie announced, his gaze sweeping over his companions. "The Dusters may be finished, but their absence will create a vacuum, one that others may seek to fill."

With these words, the group climbed back into the carriage, eager to depart before the city's morning bustle began. They hoped to avoid drawing unnecessary attention as workers and merchants emerged to start their day.

Knall settled himself atop the driver's seat, his hands gripping the reins with practiced ease. With a swift snap, he urged the horses forward. The carriage jolted into motion, wheels rattling over the uneven cobblestones as they left behind the remnants of the Dusters' stronghold.

Inside the carriage, Jamie sat in silence. Though the operation had been a success, a lingering sense of unease gnawed at the edges of his thoughts. The quest he had created remained unresolved, and the promised reward had yet to be given.

'Are the gods still deliberating?' he mused silently, his eyes unfocused as he gazed out the window at the passing streets. 'Or do they expect every last member to be dealt with? Is the dissolution of the gang enough?'

Regret flickered across his mind as he recalled the wording he had chosen when crafting the quest. 'I should have been more precise,' he admonished himself.

As if in response, a shimmering notification appeared.

[God of Adventure says, 'You should. ']

Jamie clenched his jaw, a hint of irritation sparking within him at the gods' admonishment. Beside him, perched on the edge of the seat, Jay nodded slowly in agreement to the notification.

"He has a point," Jay remarked softly, the tip of his spectral tail twitching.

Jamie sighed, the tension easing from his shoulders. 'Perhaps,' he conceded, though a wry smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

The streets of Hafenstadt began to stir as the carriage approached the familiar entrance of the Golden Fiddle.

As soon as the carriage stopped, Bertram and Aldiwn were the first to get off. With weary steps, they climbed to the second floor of the tavern, hoping to finally rest and remove their armor.

Camille lingered in the doorway of the tavern's common room. With a weary sigh, she sank into one of the overstuffed armchairs by the hearth, stretching out her legs and allowing herself a moment of respite. The soft crackling of the dying embers provided a soothing backdrop to her thoughts.

Outside, Thomas and Jamie remained near the entrance, watching as Knall attended to the final preparations before his departure. The dwarf secured the last of his equipment, his practiced hands checking the harnesses and ensuring everything was in order.

"Could you dismantle the carriage?" Jamie asked, his tone thoughtful yet resolute.

Knall turned to him, a quizzical expression creasing his weathered face beneath the brim of his worn leather cap. His bushy eyebrows arched. "How's that?" he inquired, the hint of a gruff chuckle in his voice betraying his curiosity.

Jamie gestured toward the carriage with a subtle nod. "We need to ensure this weapon we've created can't be replicated or fall into the wrong hands. It's best to disassemble it entirely, including the carriage itself."

Understanding dawned in Knall's eyes. He stroked his thick, braided beard thoughtfully, the metal rings woven into it clinking softly. "Aye, I suppose that's wise," he conceded. His gaze lingered on the carriage, examining the intricate contraptions he had crafted. "I'll strip down the mechanisms and devices. Could return it to its original state."

"Thank you," Jamie said sincerely. A sense of relief washed over him. "Perhaps we can repurpose it afterward," he mused. Turning to Thomas, who stood by his side, he added, "We could use it for more mundane tasks, like transporting barrels of our beer. It would certainly aid in our deliveries."

Thomas nodded appreciatively. "That would help a great deal," he agreed.

Jamie took a moment and then shifted the conversation to a matter weighing on his mind. "About the other thing I mentioned," he began, his gaze earnest as he looked at Knall. "You're always welcome at the Golden Fiddle, Knall. But if you'd consider joining our team, we'd be honored to have you. Your skills and expertise would be invaluable."

Knall regarded Jamie thoughtfully, his eyes searching the younger man's face. For a moment, the clamor of the city faded, leaving just the two of them standing amidst the morning light and the quiet understanding that passed between potential allies. Slowly, Knall extended his hand, rough and calloused from years of craftsmanship.

"Thank you kindly, bard," Knall replied, his deep voice conveying genuine appreciation. He clasped Jamie's hand firmly. "But I think I'll keep to my path for now. I don't know if I want to join the kind of game you're playing."

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Jamie nodded, an honest smile touching his lips. Though a hint of disappointment stirred within him, he respected Knall's decision. "No problem at all," he said warmly. "If you ever change your mind, you know where to find us."

"Aye," Knall agreed. "That I do."

Releasing the handshake, Jamie watched as Knall turned back to the carriage.

Jamie couldn't help but reflect on the situation. With Thorgrimm, their common adversary, removed from the equation, Knall no longer had the pressing need to seek the protection of a group. The dwarf valued his independence, and Jamie admired that spirit, even if it meant they wouldn't be working together more closely.

As Knall prepared to depart, he raised a hand in farewell. "You take care now," he called out to both Jamie and Thomas. "And keep your wits about you. This city has a way of stirring up trouble when you least expect it."

"Safe travels, Knall," Thomas replied, lifting a hand in return.

Jamie smiled. "We'll see you around."

With that, Knall climbed onto the carriage. The horses snorted softly as he guided them away, the wheels turning smoothly along the cobblestone streets.

"A shame," Thomas remarked, his gaze lingering where Knall had been moments before.

"Indeed," Jamie agreed, his tone contemplative. "But we still have his services, and perhaps one day he'll choose to join us."

Thomas nodded, then glanced at Jamie with a hint of hesitation. "I need to be going as well. My neighbor is looking after Julie, but I should relieve her. I'll be back tonight."

Jamie placed a reassuring hand on Thomas's shoulder. "No need to rush back. Take the time to rest. You've earned it."

"Are you sure?" Thomas asked, though relief was evident in his eyes.

"Absolutely," Jamie affirmed. "We'll manage here. The others can cover your duties for a day."

Thomas exhaled, a weight lifting from him. "Thank you, Jamie. I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Take care," Jamie said, watching as Thomas made his way down the street.

'Now it's a matter of waiting for the mission to complete,' Jamie thought to himself, his gaze drifting upward to the vast expanse of the sky.

--

"We did it! We did it!" Eliza's screams echoed through the grand hall of the Golden Fiddle tavern. She bounded with enthusiasm, her hair bouncing around her flushed cheeks as she seized her employer, Jamie, by the arms. With infectious energy, she swayed him from side to side, attempting to draw him into her whirlwind of excitement.

It had been three days since the downfall of the Dusters. While the mercenaries rested after their victory, Eliza tirelessly pursued new opportunities. At last, her efforts bore fruit; she secured a lucrative contract with merchants trading with the Holy Elven Empire. After lengthy negotiations, they agreed to purchase one hundred gold pieces' worth of beer barrels at a rate of 0.75 gold per barrel. The only caveat was that delivery would not be required for another six months.

In the interim, this new venture necessitated the acquisition and establishment of an additional brewery to meet the sizable order. The magnitude of the deal promised substantial growth for their enterprise, and the excitement was palpable.

As the realization of their success settled in, a series of ethereal notifications manifested before them.

[The God of Commerce is impressed by your acumen.]

[The God of Festivity rejoices at the merriment you will bring.]

[Eliza has obtained 600 experience points.]

[Your experience points are withheld until the completion of your quest.]

Eliza's elation soared to new heights upon seeing the divine messages. Her voice pitched so high in her excitement that one might think only cats could hear her. Indeed, Jay, the spectral feline companion, grimaced comically, pressing his translucent paws over his sensitive ears to muffle the shrill squeals.

"I-I've never leveled up before!" Eliza exclaimed, her eyes wide with disbelief and joy. "What other cook gets to level up?" She clapped her hands to her cheeks before turning to Thomas, who stood nearby with a look of pleasant surprise. Unable to contain herself, she playfully swatted his shoulder, her laughter ringing like silver bells.

Thomas chuckled, exaggeratingly rubbing his arm. "Well, if anyone deserves it, it's you, Eliza," he remarked warmly.

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself enough to read the details of her level-up. "Let's see... What's this? A talent?" Her eyes scanned the glowing text that hovered before her. "[Cook's Palate]: You possess a natural talent for enhancing the flavor of any recipe."

Her face scrunched ever so slightly, a mix of pride and mild disappointment. "It's not exactly a grand talent like wielding a legendary blade," she mused, "but I'll take it!"

Jamie watched the scene unfold with a broad grin. The contract Eliza had secured would infuse their coffers with a substantial sum, allowing them to expand their operations without jeopardizing the tavern's financial stability. Witnessing Eliza, the first member of their team, achieve such a milestone filled him with a sense of fulfillment. Her joy was infectious, and it even warmed his heart to see her hard work rewarded.

As the group basked in the glow of their shared triumph, the ambient chatter and laughter filled the tavern's common room.

Suddenly, a sharp tap echoed from the front door, cutting through the merriment like a knife through butter. Conversation hushed, and all eyes turned toward the entrance.

"I'll get it," Jamie offered, his curiosity piqued. He strode across the room, his boots tapping lightly against the polished wooden floor. Adjusting his vest, he approached the door, wondering who could be calling at such an early hour.

Standing on the threshold was a city guard, garbed in the Imperial uniform. His expression was formal, though not unkind.

"Good morning," Jamie greeted him, masking his surprise. "How can I assist you?"

"James Frostwatch?" the guard inquired, his eyes briefly scanning a parchment he held.

Jamie hesitated for the slightest moment. It had been some time since anyone had called him by his full name. In Hafenstadt, he was simply Jamie, the enterprising bard and proprietor of the Golden Fiddle.

"Yes, that's me," he confirmed, curiosity tinged with caution.

The guard presented a sealed envelope, the wax bearing the unmistakable insignia of the Imperial Academy. "I bring a summons from the Imperial Academy of Hafenstadt," he announced formally. "Your presence is requested."

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