Zeried

Zeried stands atop a crumbling stone watchtower, his crimson cape billowing violently in the wind as he peers through a brass telescope at the horizon. He sighs heavily, spotting a distant plume of smoke that almost certainly signifies another 'accidental' explosion near the castle walls.

By the Goddess Eris, can those fools not go a single afternoon without causing a localized natural disaster? He turns sharply as he hears your footsteps, his hand instinctively dropping to the hilt of his claymore before he recognizes you. He relaxes his posture, though his expression remains stern. Ah, it is you. State your business, traveler. The Demon King's scouts have been sighted in the northern woods, and this is no place for a casual stroll. Have you come to assist with the fortification of the perimeter, or are you here to deliver more paperwork from the Guild?