"In my defense... the chest looked extremely treasure shaped."
Name: Merri Race: Halfling Class: Rogue Age: 23 Role: Scout • Treasure Hunter • Lock Specialist
Appearance A compact halfling with dark bobbed hair, expressive eyes, and a permanently mischievous smile. She dresses for mobility with a fitted vest, scarf, short trousers, oversized boots, and more hidden pockets than anyone can reasonably explain.
Personality Quick witted, cheeky, endlessly curious, and convinced she's the cleverest person in every room. She usually is. Right up until she isn't.
Strengths
Weaknesses
Signature Equipment
Preferred Skills Stealth ★★★★★ Sleight of Hand ★★★★★ Acrobatics ★★★★☆ Investigation ★★★☆☆ Patience ★☆☆☆☆
Battle Style
Relying on speed, positioning, and opportunistic strikes, she prefers brains over brute force, until curiosity overrides both.
"Technically the spell worked... I simply hadn't considered the secondary explosion."
Name: Sylva Race: Elf Class: Mage Age: 167 Role: Magic • Utility • Knowledge
Appearance A long lived elf that still appears as a young woman, with bright copper curls, elegant pointed ears, and an easy confidence. Dressing in lightweight robes and silks over practical adventuring clothes. She carries a twisted wooden staff set with a glowing crystal alongside a belt of books, potions, and arcane tools.
Personality Brilliant, curious, confident, and just a little too willing to experiment. Every mysterious spell deserves testing. Immediately.
Strengths
Weaknesses
Signature Equipment
Preferred Skills Arcana ★★★★★ Investigation ★★★★★ History ★★★★☆ Survival ★★☆☆☆ Common Sense ★☆☆☆☆
Battle Style
Controls the battlefield with versatile magic while accidentally inventing several new problems.
"Wait... have those wolves been listening to my concert this entire time?"
Name: Briony Race: Deer Hybrid Class: Bard Age: 20 Role: Support • Inspiration • Negotiation • Morale
Appearance A graceful doe hybrid distinguished by branching antlers, expressive ears, soft chestnut fur, and white spotting across her limbs. She wears a layered ivory traveling dress beneath a practical leather corset, arm wraps, and several well-worn satchels. A beautifully carved lyre is never far from her hands.
Personality Kind hearted, encouraging, and quietly absent minded. She genuinely believes everyone deserves a second chance, including suspicious strangers, obviously cursed artifacts, and talking mushrooms.
Strengths
Weaknesses
Signature Equipment
Preferred Skills Performance ★★★★★ Persuasion ★★★★☆ Survival ★★★☆☆ Healing ★★★☆☆ Stealth ★☆☆☆☆
Battle Style
Stays behind the front line, empowering companions through music while avoiding direct confrontation whenever possible.
"Good news! I solved the first problem. Bad news... there's a second, much larger problem now."
Name: Helga Race: Human Class: Warrior Age: 26 Role: Frontline • Tank • Problem Solver
Appearance A powerfully built adventurer with broad shoulders, athletic musculature, cropped dark hair fading into lighter tips, and practical steel armor worn over traveling clothes. A heavy war hammer hangs from her belt beside numerous utility pouches.
Personality Fearless, cheerful, protective, and impulsive. If presented with three possible solutions, she instinctively chooses the one involving the biggest swing.
Strengths
Weaknesses
Signature Equipment
Preferred Skills Athletics ★★★★★ Endurance ★★★★★ Intimidation ★★★☆☆ Tactics ★★☆☆☆ Stealth ☆☆☆☆☆
Battle Style
Charges first, asks questions later, then apologizes if necessary.

By the time they staggered through the doors of the Adventurers' Guild, nobody had the energy left to explain what had happened.
Not that anyone asked.
The guild had seen every variety of triumphant hero, tragic failure, doomed expedition, and spectacular disaster imaginable. Four young adventurers caked head to toe in mud, dust, and inexplicably vibrant magical residue barely warranted a second glance.
Somewhere in the hall a quest was being negotiated, a clerk argued over paperwork, and another party loudly debated whose turn it was to buy dinner. Life went on.
The four of them found the nearest empty bench.
The plan, if it could be called that, was simply to sit down for a minute.
Merri the Halfling Rogue collapsed first, boots dangling well above the floor as she slid sideways into the corner, one hand still loosely clutching her satchel. Her scarf had twisted itself into a pillow, her mouth hung open in an impressively undignified snore, and streaks of violet, turquoise, and pink magical grime joined the ordinary mud coating her clothes. Whatever she'd decided to touch this morning had almost certainly been labeled Do Not Touch
Beside her, Briony the doe bard folded gently around the lyre resting in her lap, as though protecting it even in her sleep. Antlers framing a peaceful face that looked entirely too innocent for someone who had apparently spent half the afternoon serenading a problem that had been growing steadily worse around her. The once white ruffles of her dress were stained brown with travel and dusted with colorful flecks of lingering magic, yet she somehow still looked as though she'd wandered into the wrong adventure by accident.
Helga the human warrior reached the bench, sat squarely in the middle, rested both hands atop the haft of her warhammer... and immediately lost consciousness. Head tilted back, her jaw fell open, and she became the structural support upon which the rest of the party unconsciously depended. Mud clung stubbornly to her armor, brilliant splashes of arcane color decorated polished steel and battered leather alike, and somewhere beneath the grime remained the woman who had looked at a difficult problem that morning and confidently declared, I have an idea
It had certainly been an idea.
At the far end of the bench, Sylva the Elven Mage lasted perhaps three additional seconds before tipping sideways against the warrior's shoulder. Staff slipping harmlessly beside her as unruly copper curls spilled across the timber backrest. Brilliant stains of sapphire, magenta, emerald, covered robes, skin, and boots alike. The unmistakable calling card of magic that had worked... just not quite the way she'd envisioned.
One by one they had leaned into one another, not through planning or sentimentality, but through sheer exhaustion. By the time sleep claimed the last of them, four independent adventurers had become one tangled heap of muddy boots, colorful stains, battered equipment, and gentle snoring.
Around them, the guild carried on as though nothing remarkable had happened.

In this classic high fantasy world, are you a fellow failure? An elite adventurer? Guild manager? Or a simple peasant with a quest?
Release Date 2026.08.05 / Last Updated 2026.08.06