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LOCATION: TOWN PLAZA
CITY: GRIMWATCH
DATE: DECEMBER 9, 2025 | TIME: 8:00 AM
Vanessa arrived in Grimwatch at precisely 8:00 AM, the rising sun casting soft golden light across the cobbled plaza. Within a few minutes, others were filtering into town, and she soon spotted Valerie Connors weaving her way through the morning bustle. The two hadn’t spent much time together yet, but sharing similarly elusive combat styles and a healthy respect for shadow and subtlety had already made this quest something they were both looking forward to.
To complete the final upgrade for the Tannery, they needed to steal two rare materials from nobles in the infamous Shadowed Hamlet.
The first target was locked in a glass display case inside Lord Harris Marthen’s private hunting lodge: a length of Cured Wyvern Gut, prized for its supernatural resilience and tension. Tarn and Lysa Wellmere could use it to craft superior bowstrings and stitching for elite leather armor. Rumor had it the lodge was heavily guarded, as its master was infamous for his illicit trophies and wasn’t about to let them go quietly.
The second item was Moonbloom Resin, a potent alchemical preservative stored in a sealed crystal jar in Lady Elsinore’s private apothecary hut. Tucked away at the far edge of her sprawling estate, the structure was guarded not by humans, but by a pack of wolves—deliberately underfed to keep them alert and aggressive.
They met outside the leatherworker’s shop as agreed, where Tarn and Lysa were already waiting beneath the wide overhang.
“Aye, lasses, come on in,” Tarn called, waving them over. “I’d offer you tea, but I know yer the get-up-and-go types.”
Lysa offered a tired wave and disappeared around the back of the shop, leaving Tarn to take care of business.
“Listen, Lysa had an errand to run, but I’ve got a favor to ask—if you’re willin’.” He scratched behind his ear, then held up a hand before they could answer. “It’s not for the shop. Two weeks from now marks ninety years I’ve been married to that fierce woman, and I’d like to do somethin’ special.”
He cleared his throat, then added, “There used to be two fine vineyards in The Shadowed Hamlet. If you can find me a barrel of proper aged wine from one of ’em, it’d mean the world. Not some watered-down tavern swill. I mean the good stuff. Something to toast the years with.”
Vanessa chuckled. “You’ve got it, Tarn. We’ll see what we can dig up.”
She turned to Valerie, who was already smirking.
“Alright, Valerie. Let’s get going. I know the way.”
Vanessa arrived in Grimwatch and took a deep breath of the brisk morning air. Before long, others began appearing in the plaza, and soon she spotted Valerie Connors making her way toward her. The two hadn’t spent much time together yet, but with classes that shared more than a little overlap in stealth and subtlety, both were looking forward to this mission.
To complete the upgrade of the Tannery, they needed to retrieve two specific items, which would need to be "liberated" from local nobles in The Shadowed Hamlet.
First: locked in a glass case inside Lord Harris Marthen’s private hunting lodge was a store of Cured Wyvern Guts, a rare material used for bowstrings and reinforced stitching in elite leather armor. The lodge was notoriously well-guarded, filled with trophy kills, and patrolled day and night by paid mercenaries.
Second: a sealed jar of Moonbloom Resin, stored deep in the apothecary hut of Lady Elsinore’s estate. The resin could waterproof and preserve exotic leathers. Unfortunately, the hut was rumored to be guarded by a small pack of ravenous wolves—kept hungry intentionally to discourage intruders.
When they arrived at the leatherworker’s shop for any final instructions, Tarn Wellmere were already waiting for them beneath the overhang.
“Aye, lasses, come on in,” Tarn said, waving them over with a cheerful grin.
“Listen, Lysa had an errand to run, so I wanted to ask if you could maybe procure one extra item while yer there. Two weeks from now, it’ll be our ninetieth anniversary. Not a hundred, I know, but… well, I don’t want to miss the chance. There used to be two great vineyards in the Hamlet. If you could procure a barrel of aged wine from one of them, I’d be endlessly grateful.”
Vanessa chuckled. “We’ve got you, Tarn. That shouldn’t be a problem.” She turned to Valerie. “All right, let’s get going. I know the way.”
They set out toward the southern edge of town, eventually finding a narrow gap between two weathered houses. Vanessa stopped in front of a wooden gate set into the fence line.
“Prepare for a little bit of a shock. On the other side of this gate, things shift. Stay low and quiet when you pass through.”
They had already changed into plain linen traveling clothes sourced from the Grimwatch tailor, each tunic modified with hidden inner pockets to carry weapons. Vanessa’s Wraithwood baton and daggers were concealed easily; Valerie’s gear—including Umbral Fang and her Whisperknives—fit just as snugly.
Vanessa’s bow, Nightweaver, was slung openly across her back. Nothing suspicious in the Hamlet about someone visibly armed—especially not someone appearing to be a hunter.
After double-checking their gear, Vanessa pushed the gate open and crouched low, stepping through what was essentially a soft transition zone to the woods surrounding The Shadowed Hamlet.
Valerie followed—and stumbled slightly. “Whoa. That’s… unsettling.”
“Told you,” Vanessa said with a smirk.
Just then, a System message flashed across their vision:
---
Welcome to The Shadowed Hamlet.
[Quest: Procurement] has been initiated.
Completing your mission without a single innocent death will double your rewards.
Completing the entire target list will double them again.
Items Procured: 0 / 2
Current Target List: 0 / 14
Good luck, Huntress.
Good luck, Reaper.
---
Vanessa smiled broadly. “This mundane little fetch quest just got way more interesting. Ready to have some fun?”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
The gleam in her eyes stirred something deep within Valerie. She had never been quick to anger, and she’d certainly never seen herself as a fighter—at least, not until her Tutorial. But when she had finally tasted combat, the surprise wasn’t just in surviving. It was in how it felt. Not quite bloodlust, but definitely something adjacent. Controlled. Purposeful. Empowering. And when she saw the same energy flicker across Vanessa’s face, it was hard not to match it.
Taking a life wasn’t something either woman would admit to enjoying. But when it was justified? There was a kind of satisfaction that felt… honest. Righteous, even.
Valerie nodded, her voice low, steady. “Let’s do this. How do you want to handle it?”
Two blips pinged onto their maps—one for Lady Elsinore’s estate, the other for Lord Marthen’s hunting lodge.
“We could split up and meet at the vintner’s, but…” Vanessa shrugged, her grin playful. “I’ve never seen you in action, and I’m curious. Shall we pay the Lady a visit first?”
Valerie returned the smile. “I’ve been thinking the same thing. Let’s knock.”
Dressed in plain linen tunics—functional but drab—they had passed easily in the village center. But as they made their way north, where cobblestones gave way to manicured roads and manor gates, the attention sharpened. Curious eyes lingered too long.
Valerie was the first to act. She pulled them into the tree line, just out of view. “We need better camouflage. My aura can only do so much to alleviate their suspicion.”
Vanessa glanced toward the ridgeline where vineyards grew in tight rows. “Then let’s change course. There’s someone nearby who might help. The vintner—Leor Jandrel. I helped him once. I’m hoping that kindness carries over into this version of the Hamlet.”
They moved west, slipping through the woods. A Level 6 badger tried posturing at them along the way—until Valerie met its hiss with a deadpan stare. The creature promptly turned tail and vanished into the underbrush.
Twenty minutes later, they reached the edge of the vineyard. A fence of twisted wire and sun-faded timber marked the boundary. Seeing no sign of Leor outside, they walked openly to the house and knocked, choosing courtesy over stealth.
Voices inside hushed immediately, and soft footsteps shuffled away. A moment passed before the door opened. A man peered out, brows drawn—then his expression shifted into stunned recognition.
“You! I remember you. That night…” He quickly stepped aside. “Please, come in.”
They entered. The door closed and locked behind them.
“I never caught your name,” he said, gesturing toward the hearth. “But my family owes you everything. Please, sit. Let us thank you properly.”
“I’m Vanessa,” she said, motioning to her companion. “This is my friend, Valerie. And you don’t owe us a thing—but we could use your help.”
As Leor set water on the fire, a woman appeared in the doorway, hesitant. Her eyes flicked from Vanessa to Valerie.
“There she is,” Leor said, his voice warm. “Vanessa and Valerie, this is my wife, Helena. This is the one who saved us the night Silas Trenn sent those assassins.”
Helena’s composure broke. Tears welled in her eyes, and she rushed forward, embracing them both. “Thank you,” she whispered. “You didn’t just save us. You gave us a second chance. Wit the money you left us, we hired help with the harvest, and it was our best season yet.”
She stepped back, wiping her eyes. “Oh, but look at me—come, sit. I’ll make something. Are you hungry?”
“Please,” Vanessa said gently. “Don’t fuss. But… there are two things we could use.”
“Anything,” Leor said, already settling into a chair as Helena poured tea for four.
Vanessa chose her words carefully. “We need to… acquire a few items from local nobles.”
Valerie offered the punchline: “Procure.”
They both grinned, and the couple chuckled at the correction.
Vanessa continued, “We’re drawing too much attention in these clothes. Something more suitable for the upper district would help. But it needs to conceal our gear.”
Helena didn’t hesitate. She darted to the back of the house, already rummaging.
While she was gone, Vanessa turned back to Leor.
“There’s also a couple back in Grimwatch—the leatherworkers, Tarn and Lysa. They’re about to celebrate their ninetieth anniversary. Tarn asked us to find a barrel of good wine. Something special.”
Leor brightened. “I have just the thing. One of our best harvests. We had multiple full moons that year, and… well, the wine is unique. People say it gives them beautiful dreams—memories of the happiest days of their lives. It’s perfect for an anniversary gift.”
Valerie’s eyes lit up. “That’s exactly what we were hoping for. Thank you. We’ll stop back after the other parts of the mission.”
Just then, Helena returned, arms draped in fabric.
Two beautifully tailored dresses. Elegant, structured—and practical. Hidden seams, reinforced pleats, and just enough flair to pass as noble fashion without inviting scrutiny.
Helena beamed. “These should do nicely. Take your time. I’ll wrap the wine.”
After the two women finished dressing, they returned to the hearth. Helena turned and brought both hands to her face, eyes lighting with delight.
“Oh, you two look magnificent. The only thing that might give you away now is how gorgeous you are. Although…” she hesitated, then a little sadly, said, “in the Noble District, I suppose that’s not exactly unusual.”
Leor, picking up on her tone immediately, stepped forward. “Helena! What are you saying? You’d fit right in among them. You are just as beautiful now as the day I met you. And you remember how smitten I was then.”
Helena rolled her eyes playfully but couldn’t hide the blush that crept across her cheeks.
Valerie and Vanessa smiled at the warmth between them. They were about to excuse themselves when Leor raised a hand.
“Before you go—who exactly are you planning to visit?”
Vanessa glanced at Valerie, then shrugged. “No harm in telling them, I think.”
“It’s Lady Elsinore and Lord Marthen,” Valerie said. “They’ve got a few items we need.”
They explained the high level details of their mission.
Helena, who had just taken her seat again, sat bolt upright.
“Oh! We might be able to help—at least with the Lady’s place. Her apothecary hut is guarded by wolves. She keeps them just a little hungry on purpose—makes them extra mean. But if you toss them some meat, they’ll usually leave you alone.”
She turned to her husband. “Dear, would you mind?”
Leor nodded and disappeared through a door. A few minutes later, he returned with a small wrapped bundle. “It’s not much, but it should buy you a minute or two. Long enough to get past, hopefully.”
Vanessa accepted the parcel and tucked it into her satchel. “Thank you both. Truly.”
Helena smiled. “Just promise me one thing—come back safe, and tell us how it went. I’ve always dreamed of watching those nobles squirm.”
Now properly dressed and prepared, the two women left the Jandrel home and made their way east, climbing toward the upper noble district. It sat perched on a rise overlooking the Hamlet, a deliberately elevated plateau of opulence, as if its inhabitants needed the terrain itself to remind others of their supposed superiority.
Vanessa knew better. The elevation wasn’t just geographic; it was psychological. Every noble she had encountered in the Shadowed Hamlet shared the same smug disdain for those beneath them. And Lady Alana Elsinore? She was the worst of them all. Helena and Leor had filled them in on the Lady’s background.
Her husband had died several years ago, and while many had assumed it was the grief that had hardened her, those who knew her better understood: she’d always had an underlying cruelty to her. She’d just kept it in check more while her husband was alive. After he passed, however, there was nobody to stop her from beating her servants and parading them around in humiliating displays of her avarive.
Still, she had no shortage of suitors. Men who thought they could tame her. Or just those from lower noble houses hoping she would favor them by taking their son and thereby raising their fortunes. But none had succeeded. Her estate remained hers, and hers alone.
By the time Vanessa and Valerie reached the edge of the estate’s grounds, the sun was dipping low in the sky. The dresses Helena had provided allowed them to pass through the streets unnoticed. The fine, but not too fine, weave and cut marked them as household staff from a reputable noble home. That made them practically invisible to those in power, and as Vanessa had both learned, blending in was one of the most useful disguises of all.
Lady Elsinore’s estate backed into thick woods—dense enough to provide cover and quiet enough to suit their needs.
“Well, that’s convenient,” Vanessa murmured, tilting her head toward the treeline. She led Valerie off the road and into the shelter of the trees.
Out of sight, they removed the borrowed dresses, folded them neatly, and packed them into their satchels. Then, each woman pulled on her full combat gear.
Vanessa’s gray combat leathers were fitted for stealth and movement, with a hood she could draw low to blur her silhouette. But when she turned to Valerie, her breath caught.
Valerie’s overcoat shimmered at the edges, almost like the air was bending around her. The fabric didn’t reflect light—it swallowed it. It looked stitched from shadow.
“Damn,” Vanessa said. “That is some cool armor.”
Valerie gave a sly smile. “Right? I can’t wait to wear this in the real world. If I button it all the way up, it even morphs into a cocktail dress. And I have always looked great in black.”
They shared a quiet laugh, low and sharp in the hush of the woods, then turned to face the estate.
The sun was down. It was time to get to work.