TRASH - Act 1: The Spinner

Maddison took in a deep breath, the fresh evening grass, faint bitter tang of burning wood, and Horse's 'aromatic' rear end twisting together into a nostalgic slap of home. Horse had really shown off why he was a rental during the journey. Haste was a foreign concept to the beast if the destination was more than twenty minutes away. Given that Bervolt was at least two hours away from where Maddison had stopped to prepare, the journey had stretched to three between cranky trots and random strikes where Horse would refuse to travel altogether.

But he had made it. Finally.

He stopped before the town gates, stroking the rotting pillars of wood, woven into a formidable gatekeeper for unwanted guests. He glanced over his shoulder at the empty road behind him, stilling his panic when he didn't see Sariel anywhere. He had to remind himself that he hadn't forgotten her anywhere.

"Had enough of pettin our door?" One of the guards growled, her brown eyes digging into him with a scowl.

Maddison pulled his hand away from the wall, paying the woman a friendly nod. "Just looking to pass through..." he went to grab some coins, stopping as she continued to glare. "Something wrong?"

"Besides the burnin starlight?" The other guard cut in, their face contorted into a forced glare as they squinted at him. "Sorry, evening shift is the worst, can't help but squish our faces to look at ya."

"Ah, sorry to hear that." Maddison turned to face the blinding sunset so the two guards could rest their glares. "Entrance fee?"

"Well, Old Mayor Maynard set up a weird law saying we had to send everyone off to get three Scuttlesnake rattles and five Nuttle tails... did it to the first guy... but we don't really feel like payin everyone to collect useless stuff for us." The first guard said, folding her arms as her partner pulled out a stack of papers and stamped the first one, handing it off to Maddison.

"Just act like you did it and humour the guy."

Maddison grabbed the paper without looking at it, eyeing the fortress of a wall curiously. There were no Heroguard banners at the entrance, which made for a good sign.

But the distress call.

"Did a group of six soldiers pass through here? Horseback, had a kid with them."

The guards narrowed their eyes, the one closest to him tilting her head in a way that neither confirmed nor denied his question. "Wouldn't stay here too long if I were you."

"Alright..." Maddison watched the two guards shove on one of the doors, scraping it open just enough for him to slip through with Horse and wave them farewell. Curiousity gripped him as he stopped to read the paper in his hands, skimming the lines of the strange handwritten quest.

Welcome to Bervolt Adventurer!

'Meredith and Mandy appear to be too scared to open the door, as a scuttlesnake or nuttle could strike from the shadows at any moment! It's probably best to deal with the problem so they can let you through.'

Objective: Bring back three scuttlesnake rattles, and five nuttle tails.

Reward: 7 copper'

His gaze fell to the bright red 'COMPLETED' stamp at the bottom of the page. He'd never seen something like this in his life.

Maddison crumpled the paper into a ball and tossed it, snapping open a satchel fastened to Horse' saddle to carefully slide out a small pack of worn papers. Wanted posters he'd collected from his guild. He flipped through the pile, pulling out a fresher looking paper that had been delivered by Crow. Kalthos Maynard, a sorcerer gone mad. For such a request to have reached his guild, the town seemed remarkably calm.

The town wasn't the typical rugged setup that was practical in the surrounding villages. Compared to Stonesong even, this one was a metropolis. Smooth shingles sat atop every shop and home, the wood of the stray benches and buildings smelt of fresh varnish and polish, and the ground was fitted with a perfectly paved stone path leading up to a carved fountain filled with water. His first instinct was to look around for the elderly; sometimes nobles liked to set up little yuppy towns out in the middle of nowhere for a retirement getaway. But without a lake or mountain in sight, the scenery here was far from a desirable spot. The eldest spectator he could see was an elderly man with a white fluff of groomed hair on his chin, absently painting a picture as he rested on a freshly polished bench.

And everyone else was just... lingering.

In conversations that seemed to loop, on journeys up and down the stone paths that never seemed to have a destination. Like gears in a clock, always working to strike the next hour and nothing more.

Something was up; something was seriously up.

Maddison looked around for anybody with a shred of sense in their eyes. He wasn't going to take another step into the town with the current crowd.

There were a couple of outliers, looking around tiredly or avoiding eye contact altogether with anyone that passed. He decided to go for the closest one, a lonely tanner scraping his blade against a stretched-out hide. He'd given Maddison a couple cautious glances, but when he noticed the mercenary coming at him his expression sank to defeat and he adjusted his broad hat, crossly grabbing a stack of papers before Maddison came within conversational reach.

"Welcome to Bervolt adventurer..." He let out a heavy sigh, sheathing his blade and tossing it on the grass beside him. "Where's that stupid script?"

Maddison watched him lean out of his chair to peek under it, stretching his arm with a groan before coming back up victoriously gripping another packet of papers. "Name's Tarson... Grey." he skimmed some lines with another sigh. "King's got an order for a hefty shipment of high-quality leather... problem is I don't got enough pelts for it..." He looked at his shop where a bursting mound of animal pelts sat. Bloodied and tattered by what Maddison guessed to be a lot of inexperienced hunters. "Could you get me six Margoat pelts?" He gave Maddison the deadest stare to ever fall upon a living person, holding out a paper that looked hauntingly similar to the one he'd grabbed at the entrance.

"Actually, I'm just looking for someone."

The man stopped, looking back at his script in surprise as he flipped through the pages. "Don't remember you... who're you looking for?"

"Kalthos Maynard."

"Old Man Maynard?" The tanner shook his head. "Sorry, you're supposed to ask Cindy the bun Baker about meeting Old Man Maynard... then something about slaying a Gorgonaxus... whatever that i-"

"I'm not part of your stupid treasure hunt." Maddison cut in. "Someone put up a-" He stopped before saying bounty. "Mission for this place. I need to talk to Kalthos Maynard."

Tarson slowly lowered his papers, the boredom completely fading from his gaze. "What do you need from him?"

"Look, that's none of your business. I was sent here, and I need to talk to Kalthos Maynard, so if you're not going to tell me where he is, then I'll find someone else with their wits still intact."

The man paused, quickly skimming through his papers and leaping to his feet with a booming voice. "Thank the seven gods you found it! My dearly beloved can rest peacefully now, knowing you've returned her ring to me!" Tarson gave the other townsfolk a cautious glance, motioning for Maddison to follow him. "You are well deserving of a toast dear adventurer! Join me in my home!"

Maddison planted his feet with a stern scowl, forcing Tarson to stop as he stared at him urgently, lowering his voice to the quietest whisper he could manage.

"Come on, I'll tell you about Kalthos. But not where stray ears can hear us."