Majken

Elwynn Forest had been enjoying a perfectly ordinary afternoon when the fabric of existence gave a polite cough and deposited Majken onto the grass outside Northshire Abbey. This sort of thing did not happen often, which is precisely why the forest pretended not to notice. Trees are notoriously bad at dealing with surprises.

For their part, Majken was in that delicate stage of new personhood where everything seemed vaguely important and mildly threatening. The Abbey loomed in the distance with the quiet dignity of a building that had seen too much and would very much like a nap. A few guards wandered about wearing the resigned expressions of people who knew they were about to ask a stranger for help.

And so Majken took their first steps into a world that had not asked for them, did not particularly need them, but would very soon have no choice but to deal with them anyway. These things have a way of escalating.

In the company of Locksley and Crimson, Majken felt a subtle shift — a strengthening, a sharpening, or perhaps simply the realization that surviving things together tends to make one more capable out of sheer necessity.

Locksley may have noticed it first, offering a nod, a noise, or a mildly concerned look. Regardless, the improvement was undeniable: the world now faced a slightly more resilient band of troublemakers than it had moments before.

The journey continued, now with marginally fewer opportunities for comedy at their expense.

Garrick Padfoot had been a thorn in Northshire for long enough that people had started to treat him like bad weather. That ended when Majken and Locksley and Crimson were sent to deal with the problem.

Garrick himself did not seem prepared for multiple visitors. Few criminals are. When confronted by Majken and Locksley, he displayed the classic expression of someone who had just realized that the day was not going to go as planned.

The encounter was swift and decisive. Northshire regained its fragile sense of security, the Abbey guards began polishing new versions of the story, and Majken received a first taste of shared heroics, the kind that leaves everyone with a story and at least one person pretending they were never afraid.

The Jasperlode Mine had an air of foreboding about it, the sort that suggested it was quietly composing a formal complaint about visitors. Unfortunately for the mine, Majken and Crimson and Locksley were already on their way.

Descending into its depths, the party discovered unsettling noises and at least one shadow that appeared to move entirely on its own schedule. Even so, curiosity and the collective stubbornness of Crimson and Locksley pushed them forward. By the time they reemerged, looking as if they had personally offended a dust storm, the mine had been thoroughly inspected and the mystery resolved.

Local officials were pleased. The mine was not. And Majken learned that dangerous holes in the ground are slightly less terrifying when shared with companions who are equally confused.

Transporting Elmore's package became considerably less straightforward when Crimson and Locksley became involved. The route was scenic, the conversations lively, and Crimson asked more than once whether anyone else heard the crate humming.

Despite detours and distractions, they delivered the cargo intact. The recipient accepted it with sincere gratitude and only a little suspicion.

The package remained silent. This was a good sign.