The Adventurers' Guild of Stormholm was nothing like the Guild of Builders. Where that place had been all stone and ledgers and rigid procedure, this was chaos wrapped in torchlight.
The main hall was a sprawling mess of wooden tables, a bar running the length of one wall, and a constant undercurrent of noise—laughter, arguments, clinking mugs, the scrape of chairs. Adventurers in worn leather filled the space, some nursing drinks, some haggling over contracts, some just sitting in groups and telling stories that made the others laugh or shake their heads.
Hendrik stood in the doorway for a moment, taking it in. This was a place where things actually got done. Where people dealt in blood and survival instead of permits and coin.
He walked to the front desk, where a woman with sharp eyes and a scarred cheek sat behind a high counter. She was sorting through papers, barely glancing up as he approached.
"I need to file a request," Hendrik said, keeping his voice steady despite the exhaustion pulling at his bones.
The woman looked up, her gaze assessing. "Name and business?"
"Hendrik. I'm a merchant. A child has been taken. Kidnapped in the city. I need help finding him."
The woman's expression didn't change. She returned to her papers. "Kidnappings are City Watch business, not ours. The Watch handles theft and abduction within city limits."
"The Watch won't help," Hendrik said, his voice tightening. "I've already tried. They dismissed me."
"Then file a complaint with their commander. We handle monsters, curses, and contracted work outside the city." She waved a hand dismissively. "No requests available that match your need."
Hendrik's jaw clenched, but before he could respond, the guild doors swung open.
Five adventurers walked in, their voices immediately filling the space.
"—I'm telling you, if you'd just listened to me, we wouldn't have lost half our coin to that conman!" A tall, broad-shouldered man with a cocky grin and a big sword strapped to his back threw his hands up in exasperation.
"Oh, now it's my fault? You're the one who said he looked trustworthy!" A woman in her early thirties shot back, her hand resting pointedly on the hilt of a dagger at her belt.
"He had a parrot, Mira! Who brings a parrot to a dice game?!"
"It stole your money, you idiot!"
A younger girl, no older than fourteen, trailed behind them with an amused smile. She carried a staff nearly as tall as she was, and despite her age, she moved with quiet confidence. Behind her came a lean archer and a stocky man with a warhammer, both of them laughing too hard to contribute to the argument.
The tall fighter—clearly the captain—approached the desk anyway, still grinning. "We're here to pick up the contract on the warehouse district."
The receptionist didn't even glance at him. "Nothing available. Check back tomorrow."
"We cleared the last job two days ago," he said, his grin faltering slightly. "There's always something."
"Not tonight." The receptionist returned to her papers.
The captain exchanged a look with his party. That's when he noticed Hendrik—standing at the side of the desk, Kael's shoe visible in his coat pocket, his entire frame sagging under exhaustion and desperation.
The captain's grin faded. He turned away from the desk and approached Hendrik, studying him with new interest.
"You look like you've had a worse night than we have," he said. "What's your story, merchant?"
Hendrik met his eyes. There was something in his gaze—casual confidence mixed with genuine curiosity. He decided to answer honestly.
"My kid was taken. Kidnapped in the city a few hours ago. I came here asking for help, but—" He gestured at the receptionist. "—they say it's not their business."
The receptionist returned to her papers without another word.
"Come with us," Davyn said, gesturing toward a corner table. "There's somewhere quieter to talk."
He didn't wait for an answer. He simply turned and walked toward the back of the guild, away from the noise and the main crowd. His party followed without hesitation, and after a moment, so did Hendrik.
The corner table was empty, shadowed, private. The captain pulled out a chair and sat, gesturing for Hendrik to do the same. The others arranged themselves around the table—the woman across from the captain, the lean archer to her left, the stocky man beside him, and the young girl settling into the remaining seat with her staff propped against the table edge.
"I'm Davyn," the captain said, his grin returning but softer this time, more genuine. "This is Mira, Thorne, Garry, and Elda. We're C-rank. Not the best the guild has to offer, but we're damn reliable." He leaned back in his chair. "Now tell me—what really happened?"
Hendrik sat down slowly, feeling the weight of the day finally catching up to him. He set Kael's shoe on the table.
"This morning, a village called Oakhaven was destroyed. Completely destroyed. I don't know what did it." He paused, gathering the words. "My friend died protecting her son and I made a promise to her that I'd keep the kid safe. I brought him to the city in my wagon while I tried to get help from the builders' guild. But while I was inside, the kid was taken. I found his shoe in an alley. That's all I have left."
The five adventurers exchanged glances.
Elda leaned forward, her young face serious. "A village was destroyed? How?"
"I don't know," Hendrik said. "But the thing that did it—it's still out there. And the kid who was taken, his name is Kael. He's ten years old. And now he's in the hands of whoever took him."
Mira picked up the shoe, examining it carefully. The leather was small, worn. She turned it over in her hands slowly, then set it back down. When she looked at Hendrik again, her sharp eyes had softened slightly.
"Why would someone kidnap a random boy from a destroyed village?" Garry asked, his stocky frame leaning forward. "What's valuable about him?"
"I don't know," Hendrik admitted. "But he has silver hair. Unusual color. Maybe that's why they took him."
Thorne, the archer, sat up straighter. "Silver hair in a destroyed village. That's not common." He looked at Davyn. "This sounds like it could be more than just a street crime."
Davyn nodded slowly, his casual demeanor shifting. He was quiet for a long moment, thinking. Then he looked at Hendrik.
"If we take this job, it's not just a kidnapping case. It's an investigation. We'll need to know more about the village, about who might want this boy specifically. And if we find him and there's a larger threat…" He paused. "This could be something that gets us noticed by the guild leadership. A rank-up opportunity, if we handle it right."
Mira's expression hardened. "The boy matters too," she said flatly. "If we're doing this, we do it right. No cutting corners."
"No cutting corners," Davyn agreed.
"So you'll help?" Hendrik asked, hope rising in his voice for the first time that day.
Davyn glanced at his party. Mira nodded first, then Thorne, then Garry. Elda simply smiled—a small, knowing smile that suggested she'd known they'd take this job from the moment Hendrik mentioned the silver hair.
"We'll help," Davyn said. "But we do this our way. And we'll need information from you. Everything you know about the boy, and the village. Everything."
Hendrik felt something tight in his chest loosen slightly. For the first time since he'd found Kael missing, he didn't feel completely alone.
"Thank you," he said quietly. "Thank you."
Mira pulled the shoe closer to her, studying it again with the intensity of someone reading a map. "Don't thank us yet. We don't even know who we're up against. Or why they wanted him."
"We will, though," Elda said softly. "We'll figure it out."
Davyn leaned forward, his expression serious now—the cocky grin gone. "You need to go home, Hendrik. Get some rest. Real rest, not sitting in your wagon worrying. We'll handle the initial investigation tonight—ask around, see what we can learn about the kidnappers, check the alley where the boy was taken."
"But—" Hendrik started.
"No buts," Mira said flatly. "You're exhausted. You're no good to Kael like that, and you're no good to us either. You'll just get in the way."
It was harsh, but honest. Hendrik knew she was right.
"We meet back here before dawn," Davyn continued. "You tell us everything else you remember—descriptions of the men, any details about the wagon they used, anything. By sunrise, we move. And we move with a clear head."
Thorne nodded. "We'll send word if we find anything tonight. Where are you staying?"
Hendrik gave them the name of a small inn near the merchant district. Garry wrote it down carefully.
"We'll find you if we need you," Garry said. "But you rest."
Elda reached across the table and gently took the shoe from Mira's hands. She held it for a moment, her young eyes studying it with that same old knowing. Then she looked at Hendrik.
"We'll bring him back," she said simply. "I promise."
There was something in the way she said it—absolute certainty, like she was stating fact rather than making a promise. Hendrik found himself believing her.
He nodded slowly, feeling the exhaustion finally winning the battle. "Thank you. All of you."
"Don't thank us yet," Davyn said, standing. "Just be here before dawn. Rested. Ready to talk."
Hendrik stood as well, steadying himself on the table edge. His legs felt like they belonged to someone else. The day had finally caught up with him completely.
As he turned to leave, Mira called after him.
"Hendrik."
Hendrik turned back.
"We'd do this right," she said. "You have my word."
He nodded once more, then set the shoe on the table in front of Elda.
"Find him," he said quietly.
Elda picked it up, her small hands cradling it gently. She met his eyes and nodded—that same knowing certainty. "We will."
Hendrik turned and walked out of the guild into the cold Stormholm night. For the first time since the boy had gone missing, he didn't feel like he was drowning alone.