Ashja stood on the pier, marveling at the sight before her. This city was nothing like she had ever seen in her life. It was so very different from the city at the edge of the desert near which she had grown. But then, she had seen a lot of strange things in the last several months. She stood staring at the throng, paying little heed to the noise of so many people in one place.

“Oy!” a voice shouted from behind, jostling her into awareness, “ye ain’t th’ only one wantin’ to ogle over the sights! Get yer arse movin’.”

Shaking off her awe, she hurried down the pier toward the harbor town built into the foot of a granite cliff. The crisp scent of the sea air had changed to the odor of rotting seaweed and fish. Climbing steep stone steps to the first inn she saw, The Roaring Whale, she inquired about a room. A place to lay her bedroll on the hearth for a single night cost more than the few silvers and handful of coppers she had in her purse. Dejected, she turned to go.

“The Barking Fish is on the other side of the harbor. Ask Dromon about a room and a job. Tell him Antonicia Fleetfoot sent you,” said the halfling with a wink and an enigmatic grin. “And don’t you let him charge you more than half a silver a day for the hovels he calls rooms and the swill he calls stew!”

Trudging across the wharf, her eyes drank in the sights. Most of the buildings and walls looked to be designed for giants. Of course, all she heard on the ship from Noxport were incredulous tales of Caer Vernalan. Now she could see that what she had interpreted as a gross exaggeration barely described the reality of her own eyes.

Whoever had built this city was much larger than the current denizens of the city. The steps cut into the rock were twice the height she’d known before. Someone had added stone blocks to make them easier to navigate, for all that they were uneven.

The clientele of the Barking Fish was several steps down from the Whale, but she was confident she could pay for a few nights’ lodging with the coin in her pocket.

“That’ll be three silver a night, morningfeast, and eveningfeast included,” stated Dromon Cooper.

“Huh,” said Ashja, curiosity coloring her voice. “Are you telling me that the rooms and fare here at your establishment are equal to that of The Roaring Whale? I’m sure Madam Fleetfoot would beg to differ.”

Hammond paled a bit, but stood straighter, “now look here young…”

Ashja leaned into the bar and lowered her voice. “She sent me here. And she recommended I pay you five coppers a day to stay, including morningfeast and eveningfeast. Now,” she said, smiling sweetly at the rotund proprietor, and laying two silver pieces on the bar, “this should cover lodging and meals for the next four days. Where can I find employment?”

He scowled, hooking a thumb to two elves sitting at a table on the other side of the great room. Her stomach growled as she joined the two. She motioned to the serving girl as she sat down at the table.

Out of the corner of her ear, she heard the priest at the end of the bar whisper to Cooper, a chuckle in his voice, “Antonicia got you pegged, don’t she?”

Uncomfortable with her back to the great room, Ashja maintained a polite demeanor despite the prickles between her shoulder blades.

“Good day to you, Sir Elves. May I join you?” she asked in slightly accented Elvish, pointing to a chair. At a nod, she sat. “I am Ashja and have just arrived in the wondrous city of Caer Vernalan.” Nodding toward the bar, she continued, “the innkeeper directed me to your table, said you might have a task that requires completing.”

The elves looked at each other, amusement sparkling in their eyes.

“I’m Morhir. My companion is Fynnwyn,” answered the first elf in Elvish. “I couldn’t help but overhear that you are looking for work. We have a job, and if you’re interested, you can join us. Besides,” he said, leaning in, “you handled the innkeeper rather well.” He gave her a conspiratorial wink, then switched to the common language. “And me and Fynn here, well, we could use someone who knows their way around the path less traveled, if you get my meaning.”

Ashja sat back in her chair just as the serving girl arrived and set a hot bowl of stew and a foaming mug of ale in front of her.

“Do you mind?” she asked, taking a bite of stew. “I’m famished.”

After a few bites, she looked up at the elves. “Sure, why not? I need the coin, and you need the help. It sounds like a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

“Excellent! Meet us at Torgenridge Hall when you’re done.” With that, Morhir and Fynnwyn rose and left the tavern.

Ashja moved to the bench against the wall, finished her meal, then trudged up to the small room for which she had just paid. She washed in the basin left by the chambermaid. Afterward, she stowed her meager gear in the chest next to the narrow bed, locking it with an expensive lock she had bought for this purpose. She headed back down to the common room, feeling refreshed.

“Can you tell me where to find Torgenridge Hall?” she asked the barkeep. He gave her directions to the library, and she went off in search of adventure—and gold.

A quarter turn later, she found herself in the place where Cooper had directed her. She turned left up the stairs into a good-sized courtyard. There, she spied Morhir and Fynnwyn talking with an elegantly dressed woman.

“Ah, there she is,” Morhir said as she joined them. “Ashja, this is Mirasal Shoren. She will explain the situation.”

“I would like you to recover a tome for me. It’s a… er, delicate matter that must be accomplished with… um, tact and finesse. The librarian knows your friends, so you will have to do this on your own.”

Ashja grinned. “I understand.”

She went into the library and spoke with Eldan Torgenridge, making up a story about researching a lost relative.

“Yes,” said Ashja, spinning her tale for his benefit. She nattered on as he led her deep into the stacks. “My sister’s husband’s family reportedly came to Abydon from Caer Vernalan. She asked me to find out about them for him whilst here.”

Many twists and turns later, he showed her to the correct area of his library, watched her pull a few volumes off the shelf, take them to a nearby desk, and begin taking notes on a sheet of parchment she drew from her belt pouch. After a while, he left to see to another call at the front of the hall. When he was gone, Ashja reached for the title to which Mistress Shoran had directed her. All hell broke loose as the sound of doors slamming shut echoed through the room.

In her excitement at the reward, she made her first mistake—she had neglected to check the shelf for traps. Now, she lacked the skill and proper lock picks to disable all of them. For more than an hour, she disarmed and evaded the traps Torgenridge had set to catch burglars. She singed her fingers more than once when she set off a trap or broke a pick in her clumsiness. Ashja had only thought she was an apprentice. She knew she’d made too many beginner mistakes on this job to honestly claim the rank. She really had to learn to check all the corners of the room for traps and not let greed get in her way. Admittedly, she still had a lot to learn.

In the end, she came out of the library with a pocketful of gold pieces, two new friends, and a budding reputation as an adventurer in the city of Caer Vernalan. Maybe now, she’d be able to get a better set of ‘picks.