The Adventurers' Guild hall buzzed with the usual midday chaos.
Quests were being posted, ale spilled and tired adventurers were arguing over splits.
Fanática stood at the board like it was a sweets stall.
Eyes curiously observed her, as she happily picked up quest listings.
The rewards were low, even the lowest ranks of adventurers would scowl at them.
The titles were like:
'Help Widow Sera mend her fence.'
'Find lost kitten in the park.'
'Carry groceries for elderly Mr. Halver.'
"We'll take these!" she gleefully said, while pressing the papers on the counter.
Receptionist Delira read the quest slips and exchanged a panicked glance with Harlan.
They had not anticipated her today.
She was supposed to remain contained at the diocesan offices after the… partial obliteration of the Great Forest.
No parties had been hired today to intercept her quest selections.
Seeing that Delira was on the verge of tears, Harlan stepped forward smoothly.
"These are all excellent picks…" he began warmly.
He glanced at the slips.
"For our youngest aspirants."
He sighed theatrically, as if burdened by the weight of crushing social responsibility.
"You see, we've recently taken in a number of orphans. Poor things.
Barely old enough to hold a practice sword.
We assign them modest, local contracts - nothing dangerous - so they might learn the trade, earn some aure, and contribute to the upkeep of their orphanage."
His voice was solemn.
"Every copper they bring back goes toward bread, blankets, and proper tutelage. It would be… unfortunate… if those opportunities vanished."
Faná's eyes dimmed.
Thrain stared at Harlan flatly. Gorzod blinked a few times.
Liora's gaze flicked briefly toward the exit.
"I can donate the rewards instead," Faná offered at once. "The Goddess teaches generosity-"
Before she could finish, Harlan gently slid a fresh parchment onto the counter with a decisive tap.
"However! We have just received an excellent C-rank contract," he said brightly.
And slightly adjusted the paper so the ink caught the light.
"Whispering Hollows Dungeon. A quest of retrieval of an ancient artifact from a derelict ruin.
The Mage Guild has expressed keen interest. They are offering a… considerable sum."
Delira made a small, strangled noise behind the counter.
"It is an uncomplicated delve." Harlan continued smoothly.
"A bit of a journey? Yes, but it's well within your party capabilities."
He placed just enough emphasis on the word journey.
Then he added softly,
"With that reward, one could donate to not just one orphanage… but several.
Imagine the children, Sister.
Full bellies, warm beds and running through clean halls, praising the Goddess for her providence."
The silence that fell was so thick you could cut it with a knife.
The quest description was extremely vague.
The pay was suspiciously generous.
The dungeon was conveniently distant - the estimated duration of the entire expedition coincided almost perfectly with the date of Prince Hector's royal visit.
To everyone except Faná, it looked like a large, well-fed lie.
Her expression brightened.
"For the orphans," she declared, already reaching for the parchment.
She looked at clerk, then at the shocked faces of her group, and added cheerfully, "We're leaving right away."
Harlan bowed slightly, never losing his composure for a moment.
---
Delira stared Harlan down, after the party had left the guild hall.
"But… the Mage Guild… they didn't send us a posting like this. Did they?" she asked hesitantly.
Harlan smiled cunningly.
"No, they didn't," his smile faded slightly.
"But it's a small price to pay compared to rebuilding the city if some zealous saint suddenly declared that a lost kitten was a heretic."
Delira blinked. Then blinked again.
---
Week later.
The Whispering Hollows dungeon was supposed to be simple. And it was.
Our party moved through it with practiced ease until they reached the deepest, final chamber.
A single pedestal stood in the center, holding a beautiful crystalline artifact.
It pulsed with soft blue light.
Faná stepped forward happily.
"The Goddess will be pleased-"
Then, the air thickened.
A wave of a strange stench rose from the artifact.
It smelled of iron, as if someone had just drawn a sword. Or like the air during a storm, shortly after a bolt of lightning struck.
The sages claimed that it was a form of tainted mana that hindered the drawing of divine power and slowed the effects of arcane spells.
From within the shadows behind the pedestal rose a being.
It was a huge monster but of sleek form.
Its four arms bent at countless joints, constantly folding and unfolding with insect-like precision.
Its body was covered with black plates arranged in rows and curved - just like an insect's exoskeleton.
But they were too smooth, too precise - they looked as if they had been made by someone who had never seen a living creature.A single eye burned with red, unholy light.
It was something that ancient texts called a demonoid.
It spoke in a broken language where two clicking sounds constantly repeated in strange patterns.
Like a buzzing.
("At last… after a long wait… you… will serve.")
The battle was not the usual one-sided stomp.
The miasma weakened Faná's aura and made her prayers seem distant.
A powerful blow from a segmented black tail resembling a whip threw her against the wall with such force that the team heard the crack of both her armor and her bones.
The force of the impact was so great that the stone walls she landed on were partially destroyed.
She got up with a trickle of blood running from her nose.
Then she wiped it away with her armored glove, and raised her maul rushing to attack again.
Gorzod's axes slashed fast, but shallow, until one lucky hit cut off a monster arm. Thrain's hammer cracked its ribs that knit back together. Liora's arrows found gaps but the torn scales folded inward, sealing like interlocking plates.
Only Erian spells seemed to have some effect.
He started to channel a more advanced spell.
Realizing the threat, the Demonoid roared and rushed to reach the mage with its claws.
Thrain bravely shielded the boy, but the hit impact made him roll back.
Gorzod grabbed the adversary from behind and his mighty muscles bulged, but he was flung off like a toy.
Liora's swift arrow landed directly at the demonoid single eye, it cracked with an electric outburst, but even blind the monster still charged forth.
But then finally mage chanting ended, and with a loud snap a line of sharp icicles pierced the beast from below. Immobilizing it.
Faná's eyes narrowed.
She kneeled down.
"O Goddess of the Unyielding Heavens and the Piercing of Shadows!" Faná intoned, "Behold this abyss of wickedness that dares to touch the faithful! Let Your spears descend from the skies, strike true upon the impure, and pierce their bodies in countless golden shafts, so that no shadow of wickedness may remain!"
She reached out and grabbed what seemed to be empty air.
And pulled it down.
A spear of solid light burst out of the air and fell into her hand.
Then, with a powerful swing, this luminous projectile hit the demonoid.
And a moment later, a second, third, and then fourth followed.
After a while, the demon looked like a sanctified porcupine.
Fana slowly approached the immobilized monster, red electricity shooting out from the cracks in its armor every few moments.
She raised her holy maul and struck.
The demon shrieked as holy radiance tore through its body, and for a brief moment a rapid series of sharp clicks escaped its throat.
It sounded like some broken signal repeating itself.
Faná lowered her maul, breathing hard but smiling.
"The evil is gone."
The group gathered, worn but alive. Few could boast of having encountered a real, infernal demon. Most did not live to see the meeting though.
"What kind of beast was it?" asked Gorzod, checking his bruised ribs.
Thrain's voice was grim. "Demon."
The whole group looked at him, suddenly curious. He shrugged.
"I've seen them in the clan books. It even had the same ugly mug with a single glowing eye."
Erian, breathing heavily after the fight, walked over to the artifact and cast a quick cantrip.
His face paled, and then he tried a different spell, followed with a yet another.
Then another with a puzzled face.
Fanática walked a few steps and stood next to him. She looked him in the face.
"This doesn't make sense," he said to her.
"This isn't an artifact. It's just a collection of miasma, mana, and something else entirely that's just supposed to imitate one."
Gorzod laughed grimly. "Then the demon has fooled both us, and the Guild."
Faná stepped forward.
"So this is the evil thing?" she asked.
Before anyone could stop her, she raised both hands toward the artifact and the entire chamber. "Let this vile place be cleansed and made holy!"
And a pillar of pure golden light shot skyward, visible for miles.
The dungeon trembled.
The floors cracked, the stone melted, and the walls - resistant to both blades and magic - crumbled.
High above, the ceiling opened up, revealing the sky.
The entire dungeon transformed into a shimmering, sacred crater-shaped meadow. Birds circled above it, chirping in confusion.
The sun's rays gently illuminated the rippling blades of grass and the golden specks floating all around.
This time, there was no one to admire the beautiful pillar of golden fire exploding upwards.
---
Yet another week later.
The party stood before the counter.
Delira's hand trembled as she pressed the big red FAILED stamp onto the quest poster.
No artifact recovered.
No dungeon left.
And no proof the demon ever existed.
The entire hall had gone dead silent.
Every adventurer and clerk in the building stared at Faná's reaction.
She picked up the stamped poster, looked at it for a moment, then raised her head with her usual radiant smile.
"But… at least evil was eradicated."