[ WP ] When NPCs are n't seen they are searching , constantly searching for places or items that will elevate them to the title of `` Side Quest NPC '' . It is fabled also that there is an ever greater title still .

Hannah waved frantically at the nearby traveller. 
 The young hero walked over, chainmail rattling, and stared at her with an air of quiet expectation. 
 She bit down on the inside of her cheek, took a deep breath, and put on her best smile, `` There's been an awful lot of wolves around the windmill lately, y'know? Sure would be great if *somebody* could take care of those!'' 
 The hero's eyes passed from her like she was n't even there, and strode off. 
 She watched him go with sad eyes and a shaky smile. No warm sensation, no progress tracker, no title. 
 Her message had been nothing more than a bit of trivial information by a passing NPC. 
 Hannah pressed her back against a nearby wall and slowly eased herself into the dirt, pulling a scrap of paper from her pocket. 
 
 The top of the paper read `` Hannah's amazing quest ideas!'' in bold, capital letters. 
 ~~ [ Aunt Lissy lost her necklace. Ask hero to find it? ] ~~ 
 ~~ [ A boar with a large scar attacked farmer John the other day. Tell hero about it? ] ~~ 
 [ A pack of wolves has settled around the windmill. Maybe they've made a den? Tell hero to check it out!!! ] 
 
 She sighed to herself and crossed out the last item on the list. 
 A wooden cart passed in front of her, throwing up dust. Wheels creaking. 
 Hannah shielded her eyes from the sun, the weather was nice - it always was. It was that kind of village. 
 Some towns are shrouded in eternal mists, but not Brighton. 
 It was the kind of cheerful village of which every game had at least one. 
 Located in the midst of rolling green hills and blessed with eternal sunshine. 
 At the surface it seemed like a perfect little village, full of hard-working, pleasant people. 
 All lies. The true face of the village hidden behind the fake smiles of the villagers. 
 The hero would never know of the fierce competition that engulfed the entire town. 
 
 The desire to become a quest-giver burned in the soul of every resident. 
 Just the other day Hannah watched Miss Gertrude snatch an item from a child before hurrying towards the last known location of the hero. 
 Not quite as despicable as old man Harry, who endangered the life of his son to force a quest, but pretty up there. 
 Miss Gertrude had become a quest giver now. Small bags of gold miraculously appeared in her home. A quest reward for the hero. 
 Most quest givers gave maybe half of the reward to the hero, pocketing the rest for themselves. Corrupt to the core. 
 The quest givers silently prayed for the hero to forget about their quest, for it to gather dust in the depths of his quest log. 
 Just so that they could cling to the full amount of the reward. Never having to part with so much as a single coin. 
 
 Hannah decided to turn towards home, to her father's inn. 
 As she opened the inn's heavy wooden door, she could hear her parents discussing their latest discovery. 
 
 A large man lifted a small item above his bushy beard, subjecting it to his keen eyes, `` But look at the way it reflects the light. I'm telling you this is special.'' said her father, `` Magical.'' 
 
 Hannah's mother sighed, `` It's just a fork, dear.'' she said, wiping down the wooden tables, `` It's not magical. It's just a fork.'' 
 
 The man's brow furrowed, `` But look at the way it catches the light! This is akin to the kind of shine that magical swords have!'' 
 
 Her mother threw the cleaning rag at him, `` It's nice that you finally show some appreciation for all the work I do, but that's just a well-polished fork.'' 
 
 The man narrowed his eyes as he peered at the fork, `` Charlotte, I'm telling you. It *glows*...'' 
 
 Charlotte shook her head and finally noticed Hannah, `` Oh, Hannah. Be a dear and bring up a barrel of wine from the cellar, will you?'' 
 
 Hannah's shoulders sagged, `` Again? Those things weigh a ton. Ca n't dad do it?'' 
 Her mother had already turned her attention elsewhere. Hannah sighed. 
 The steps protested as she stomped down into the damp cellar, lighting the way ahead with a oil lamp. 
 Half a dozen large wooden barrels lined the walls. She stepped in front of one and prepared herself to move the damned thing. 
 She jerked at the barrel with the amount of force required to move such a blasted heavy thing. It toppled over effortlessly. 
 It rolled across the cellar floor, coming to an halt as it bumped into the wall. 
 Hannah raised an eyebrow and walked over to inspect the barrel, a cork decorated the lower portion of the back of the barrel. 
 She placed her hand on the cork and pulled it out, remnants of wine dripped out. 
 Hannah looked back towards the other barrels and froze. 
 There was a hole in the wall where the barrel had been. Why was there a hole? 
 
 She crawled over and held up her oil lamp, the area beyond the hole seemed without end. 
 Hannah popped her head through the hole and glanced around. 
 She locked eyes with a nasty little creature holding a cup, it seemed just as terrified as she was. 
 The creature dropped the clay cup, it shattered. `` Oh no!'' it squealed before running of into the darkness. 
 She went quiet for a moment, `` Hey! Get back here!'' she finally said, feeling like it was expected of her. 
 It seemed like the kind of thing one should say in a situation like this. 
 She worked the remainder of her body through the narrow hole and began her pursuit. 
 Hannah needed more information to formulate a quest, *'' Hey, dude. There's a hole in my cellar. `` * would n't do. 
 Her surroundings gradually illuminated as she hurried through the twisting passageways. 
 After a short distance she did n't even need her lamp anymore, torches lined the walls. 
 The passageway came to an end, light flooded in through large openings in the walls. 
 She stepped through, onto a large plateau. 
 
 An unholy construction of wood, stone and rope towered in front of her. A goblin fortress. 
 The fortress looked like the kind of thing that would fall apart through sheer force of whim. 
 Today it decided not to fall apart, so there it stood. Spanning the full size of the massive cavern. 
 She immediately hit the ground and crawled towards the ledge, eyes scanning over the fortress. 
 Hundreds of Goblins patrolled every possible surface. 
 Shaky bridge? A goblin patrolled it. 
 Tiny ledge? A goblin patrolled it. Briefly. 
 They were nothing if not diligent in their duties. 
 Their movements had a computed rhythm to it. Back and forth, back and forth. 
 Hannah's eyes rested on the one creature that moved not in a rhythm, but in the swaying movements of sheer panic. 
 It ran in the direction of a large, fat creature sitting on a throne. 
 
 The creature's shrill voice echoed through the walls of the the underground fortress, `` Master, Master!'' it squealed, `` No more wine! No more!'' 
 The large creature on the throne jumped to his feet as fast as you could imagine an impossibly fat creature would. 
 `` Whaaaat?'' it belched, `` No more!?'' 
 The smaller creature jumped around in place, pointing at the upper rafters of the fortress, `` Milk drinkers! Milk drinkers!'' 
 The large creature's jowls swayed as he swung his head towards the upper rows of the goblin fortress. 
 He narrowed his beady little eyes, then gasped, `` There!'' 
 
 Hannah's breath caught in her throat as she prepared to scream. 
 Her body deciding that breath would be better serviced running. 
 It seemed sensible advice, she ran. 
 She ran back through all the twisting passageways, goblins hot on her heels. 
 Sometimes there would be a fork in the road, she went left. Sometimes right. 
 At this point it did n't really matter to Hannah where she went, anything better than here. 
 
 She looked back over her shoulder at the approaching horde of goblins, then she slammed into something. 
 Hannah fell flat on her bum in a way that maidens in games are expected to do, `` Fuck, that hurt.'' she said, rubbing her butt. 
 Something maidens *aren't* expected to do. 
 The spirit of expectation felt cheated, there would be a complaint. 
 
 Terror gently tapped Hannah on the shoulder, reminding her that she should be terrified. 
 Her head snapped upwards at the figure in front of her - the hero. 
 
 She frantically pointed towards the end of the passageway, `` There's... t-things,'' she managed, `` Goblins! Big ones!'' 
 
 The hero craned his neck towards where she was pointing. He nodded. 
 
 A warm light enveloped Hannah. A renewed feeling of vitality flooded into her skin. 
 To everyone in the world she was no longer known as Hannah, but as `` Explorer Hannah - Guide of the Depths''. 
 
 [ **Into the Jaws of Death! Garbluk the Goblin King! ** ] 
 [ *Follow Explorer Hannah into the dungeon. * ] [ 0/1 ] 
 
 She was a quest giver now, riches should've miraculously appeared in her room. 
 Yet, she found herself unable to enjoy it. Sweat clung to her skin. 
 Her eyes frantically shot over the notification, again and again. 
 She mumbled the words as she read them for what felt like the 20th time, *'' Follow Hannah into the dungeon... follow Hannah... into the dungeon. `` * 
 Hannah swallowed, her eyes carefully turned towards the hero. 
 
 The hero folded his arms, tapping his foot as he waited for her to go. 
 There was no fighting the system. If it decided she would guide the hero, *she would guide the hero*. 
 She grit her teeth. `` L-Let's go,'' she stammered, `` This way.'' 

