Toward evening.
The savory aroma of grilled fish began to spread through the streets of Fish Town.
This was the busiest time of day at the Adventurer Guild, thanks to the merchant association's culling contract, which paid by the webbed toe.
A long line had formed at the counters in the guild hall.
The adventurers gathered in small groups, asking one another what they had brought back that day.
"Damn it, I spent all day waiting by the trade road and only managed to get one!" a young warrior spat. "There was supposed to be another, but before I could even draw my sword, a ranger sprang out from beside me and shot it through."
The person ahead of him, dressed like a rogue, replied without turning around. "You should be grateful. Coming back with something and without an injury is already good. I heard some people went to the reed marsh and got surrounded by a bunch of frogmen. They came back with holes all over them."
"True. Even one of these can be exchanged for ten Silver Scales."
"Hey, did you hear? Theo's gotten nearly twenty webbed feet over by the shallows these past few days."
"Twenty?" A lanky man beside him widened his eyes, his voice full of envy. "That's two hundred Silver Scales! What kind of damn luck did those guys have?"
Another adventurer said sourly, "Don't be jealous. They're a regular team that works well together. Those of us who just team up on the fly should stick to the trade road. If we actually go in there, we'll get ourselves killed."
"Exactly. I heard from someone on their team that if they hadn't run into another strong group yesterday, they'd almost all have been wiped out."
"Seriously? What kind of team is that? Even