Seek out the Hungry Cyclops.

Your party follows the very specific instructions given to you by the elven rancher. Firstly, you traverse through the busy main road. It's nearly noon, so plenty of people are out and about. Even the weather is welcoming. Though there are plenty of clouds in the sky, the sun pierces through, and the only chill comes from brief moments of the wind picking up. Ahead is a fountain, just as the man said. You can't miss it.

Carved from stone, a massive flower fires a stream of water into the air, and it after splitting at its apex, it falls back down to the basin below--a pool filled with coins, mostly copper. There are benches nearby to sit and relax as one enjoys the soothing sound of flowing water. From there, the road continues on in four different directions. You look to the sky, determine the direction, and head north from there.

Snow's bell rings as she nears you from behind. "What is it we're going to do once we get there, Kyle?" she asks.

You think. We aren't doing anything all that specific. I mean, what happened to Monarch is suspicious, and the more we learn about William Cresswell, the better. Mostly we're just exploring. But if the contact to the Crookblade Bandits here is also an employee or owner of a brothel, she'll probably know a lot of things.

"Intelligence," you answer. "Like spies."

"Makes sense to me."

Amara runs her finger down along her ring and looks over to you with a smile.

"This place is cool!" Eva exclaims. "It's similar but different. I can't believe I've never travelled this far before."

"And I've never gone farther than this. But it's also been awhile for me," Niki says.

"Wait. If you're from the Oraang Desert, which direction did you take to Tivera if not through the free cities?" she asks.

"That's like a whole thing, Eva. It involved mountains, monsters, and it was not easy."

"I think I see our destination up ahead," Xiaoqing chimes in.

Though harder to see in daylight, a flickering glow radiates down from an elaborate sign built along the trim between floors of the two-storey structure. After a tiny cursive "the" are the words "Hungry Cyclops," though the final vowel is stretched into an oblong eyeball, which is the source of the magical. Whether it's because it's broken, or it's simply intended, the light blinks on and off in an irregular pattern. The actual exterior is beautifully decorated, albeit old, with lines of swirling green and patches of red and blue like a garden of flowers, and the front doors look the newest--dark hardy wood, ajar as if to welcome you inside.

As you move up the front step, you smell the wafting scent of burning incense. The light inside is dim.

You push the doorway open, and behind you follows your party.

The area immediately at the entrance is rather small, with a mahogany desk to the left, separating reception area with chairs, shelves, and many hooks to hold one's hat or jacket. Beyond that, the hall continues forward, and from what you can tell, it opens into a tavern. Though a woman sits behind the desk, and her impressively vibrant green eye--just one can be seen beyond her hair--watch you carefully, as if to inspect for any suspicious activity. You would expect somebody at a front desk to greet guests as soon as they enter, but not this one. She looks rather apathetic if anything.

Her hair is a deep, deathly shade of green, and even darker horns curl up from the sides of her head into twisted tips. Around one is a steel band with a frowning skull at the side. As mentioned, only one eye is visible. Her curly hair reaches just past her shoulders, though her bangs cover much of her face's right half. Though from one you can see of her eyes, she's liberal with the amount of shade she paints around them. It looks as if she's been crying by how the makeup runs, though it's clear the application is intended. Her lips are dark as well to match.

It looks at first like she's just wearing a sports bra, but it is in fact a full, long-sleeve shirt, but the only part that isn't translucent is around her chest. You can't see the rest as the desk blocks your vision, though you catch a brief glance of a long, green-scaled tail as she raises her chin from her palm to face you somewhat properly.

Silently, she sides an opened book nearby over to run a finger down the page. Her nails are long and jet-black, though upon closer inspection, you can make out a pattern of intricate green swirls. "Names?" she requests bluntly.

"I'm actually looking for somebody called Gloomstar."

She rolls her eye. "Sorry, but I'm not on the menu."

As she continues to speak, you spot a silver stud pierced through her tongue.

"Actually, I was supposed to give you this," you explain.

After the envelope is placed down beside the book, she stares at it for a moment before inspecting it between her hands. She looks mostly at the wax seal. Then with one of her sharp nails, she slits the side open with ease, and withdraws the letter from inside. You watch her eyes scan the words from left to right. About halfway down, the most subtle hint of red shines in her cheeks, though briefly before she stows the paper beneath the desk. "I see," she mutters.

"But to answer your question, I'm Kyle Warren."

"So you are." She purses her lips. "This is unexpected. She doesn't vouch for somebody very often. It's never without reason. Then I suppose all facilities of the Hungry Cyclops are open to you and your allies, Demon King. Is there something you needed?" Though welcoming, her tone doesn't change. Perhaps it's simply how she speaks--dry and gloomy.

Niki slams her hands down on the desk and exclaims, "We seek a quest!" Though the impact causes a vial near the end of the counter to jump enough for ink to dribble around it.

The green dragon turns her eye--a deadpan stare, first to the vial, and then towards the culprit. Her glare is piercing.

"Oops. My bad," Niki mutters. "I forget my strength sometimes."

You raise a hand. "I apologize on behalf--"

"Listen," Gloomstar interrupts. "Regardless of who you are, I still need names before you enter. If you want a quest, I actually do have something you might be interested in. If you're as strong as you're supposed to be, this might be an issue only your party could investigate and actually make it back alive."

"Why do you need everybody's name?" Eva asks.

"It's for the safety of the workers. Somebody tries some shit, we know exactly who was in here."

"Oh yeah. That makes sense."

"So we've got... Demon King Kyle Warren," she mutters under her breath while retrieving the aforementioned vial of ink, ignoring the spill for the time being. She bobs a quill pen inside a few times before beginning to write.

"Is the Demon King part necessary?" you ask.

"We know who you are regardless. I'd take the compliment. Some people would say the title sounds cool."

Eva steps up proudly, puffing out her chest. "Then you can write me down as Sorceress Queen Eva Beela."

"... Right." Gloomstar scribbles down her name, though she does entirely omit the part about her being a queen of sorceresses.

It seems like Eva doesn't notice that. She seems rather happy with herself.

Niki slaps her hand a couple times against her breastplate. "Adventurer Queen, Niki of clan Vakila."

Amara looks around, flustered as to what exactly is going on. "Qu-Queen of Priestesses, Amara Tedrilui?"

"What is wrong with you people?" Gloomstar asks.

"Snow." your catfolk says plainly.

"And I'm Xiaoqing," speaks the last.

With a sigh, the dragon finishes her writing and drops the pen into the ink. "Enjoy your stay at the Hungry Cyclops. You'll want to seek out the girl called Time. She's exceptionally popular, though she chooses her clients so stubbornly that she's often times free. Honestly, it kinda bugs me. She could be making more than anyone else here if she wanted."

"Thyme, like the spice?"

"No."

"What does she look like?"

"You best just remember her name for now." Her eyes shift to the door behind you as it opens. "You're not the only person waiting to enter, so move along."

A young man steps inside nervously, looks to Gloomstar, and asks, "E-Excuse me. Is Sandy the Strap, Mistress of Muscle, Exotic Half-Orc of the West in today?"

"You come here every other day, James. You really don't have to say her entire name every time." She then glares to your party, still present in her hall. "And yes, she is."

You gesture with your head for the others to follow, and your group finally makes their way inside the Hungry Cyclops.