The Chosen Pervert

Chapter 15: A Quest Begins

The road to Thornhaven took three days.

Three days of walking through forests and fields I'd never seen before. Three days of watching the world unfold around me like a storybook I'd only read about in my past life.

I'd never left home before the Calamity.

Not once.

My entire world had been the GreyFox estate, the village, the training fields. I'd seen maps in Aldric's lessons, heard stories from my father's adventuring days, but I'd never experienced it.

And now, walking beside Aldric on a dirt road that wound through rolling hills and dense woodlands, I felt like a child again.

Everything was new.

The way the sunlight filtered through the canopy. The sound of a river rushing somewhere in the distance. The smell of wildflowers and earth and life.

It was beautiful.

And it made me realize just how small my world had been.

"You're quiet," Aldric said, glancing at me.

I nodded. "Just... taking it in."

He smiled faintly. "First time traveling?"

"First time leaving home beside being thrown into the Demon Continent," I admitted.

His expression softened. "It's a lot to take in. But you'll get used to it."

Will I?

I wasn't sure.

Because every step I took away from home felt like I was walking deeper into the unknown. And the unknown was terrifying.

But I kept walking.

Because Rue was out there somewhere.

And I wasn't going to stop until I found her.

We reached Thornhaven on the afternoon of the third day.

And I stopped dead in my tracks.

"Holy s**t," I whispered.

Aldric chuckled beside me. "Welcome to the city, Wyatt."

City didn't even begin to describe it.

Thornhaven was massive.

Stone walls rose up from the earth, towering at least thirty feet high, with watchtowers stationed at regular intervals. Guards patrolled the battlements, their armor glinting in the sunlight.

Beyond the walls, I could see buildings—hundreds of them—packed together in a chaotic sprawl of stone, wood, and tile. Smoke rose from chimneys. Banners fluttered in the breeze. And the noise—

Gods, the noise.

Even from outside the gates, I could hear it. Voices shouting, wheels creaking, hammers clanging, animals braying. It was a cacophony of sound that made my head spin.

For a moment, I was transported back to New York City. The crowds. The energy. The overwhelming sensory assault of thousands of people existing in the same space, all moving, all talking, all alive.

This felt like that.

But it wasn't.

Not even close.

The architecture was all wrong—no steel, no glass, no concrete. The clothes were medieval. The smells were different—less exhaust and pollution, more animal waste and woodsmoke. And the magic—I could feel it thrumming through the air like a second heartbeat, something that had never existed in my old world.

Familiar but alien, I thought. Like looking at a photograph of home through a funhouse mirror.

"Come on," Aldric said, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Let's get inside."

I followed him through the gates, my heart pounding.

And then I was in it.

The streets were packed with people. Humans, elves, dwarves, beast-folk, even a few captured orcs and goblins that made my hand instinctively reach for my magic. Merchants shouted from stalls, hawking everything from fresh bread to enchanted trinkets. Children darted between legs, laughing and playing. Horses pulled carts loaded with goods. Dogs barked. Chickens squawked.

It was chaos.

And strangely, I felt... comfortable in it.

My old life had been spent in the basement, yes, but I'd lived in New York City. I'd walked those streets, felt that energy, navigated that chaos. My body remembered how to move through crowds, how to read the flow of people, how to avoid collisions without thinking about it.

But my mind was completely lost.

"Stay close," Aldric said, his voice cutting through the noise. "It's easy to get lost in a city like this."

I nodded, my eyes wide as I tried to take it all in.

The buildings were tall—three, four, even five stories high. Some were made of stone, others of wood and plaster. Signs hung above doorways, advertising inns, taverns, blacksmiths, apothecaries. But I couldn't read most of them. The currency system was a mystery. The social hierarchies were invisible to me. The rules of this place—unspoken and complex—were completely foreign.

And the smells.

Freshly baked bread. Roasting meat. Sewage. Sweat. Perfume. Smoke.

It was intoxicating and nauseating all at once. Familiar in its chaos, alien in its specifics.

"How do people live like this?" I muttered.

Aldric glanced at me, amused. "You get used to it."

I don't think I will.

We pushed through the crowd, Aldric leading the way with practiced ease. I followed, my body moving with the flow of people instinctively—a skill from my old life—but my mind spinning with confusion. I tried not to bump into anyone, tried not to stare at everything like the country bumpkin I clearly was.

Focus, Wyatt, I told myself. You're here for a reason.

Kira.

Thorne.

The party.

Rue.

I clenched my fists and kept moving.

We found Kira near the eastern wall.

Or rather, we found the aftermath of Kira.

A group of adventurers was gathered around a pile of corpses—goblins, from the look of it, their bodies twisted and broken. Blood pooled on the cobblestones. The smell of death hung heavy in the air.

And standing in the center of it all, wiping blood from her daggers, was Kira.

She looked... different.

Older. Harder. Her dark hair was shorter now, cropped close to her skull. Scars crisscrossed her arms and neck—new ones, from battles I hadn't been there to see. Her armor was battered and stained, her expression cold and focused.

But when she looked up and saw me, her eyes widened.

"Wyatt?" she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

I nodded, my throat tight. "Hey, Kira."

For a moment, she just stared at me.

And then she crossed the distance between us in three quick strides and pulled me into a crushing hug.

"You're alive," she said, her voice breaking. "Gods, I thought—I thought you were dead. I thought everyone was—"

"I'm alive," I said, hugging her back. "I'm here."

She pulled back, her hands gripping my shoulders, her eyes searching my face. "How? How did you survive?"

"Long story," I said. "But I need your help."

Her expression hardened. "Anything."

"I'm forming a party," I said. "I'm going back to the demon continent. I'm going to find my mother. And Rue."

At the mention of Rue's name, Kira's eyes flashed.

"Rue," she repeated. "She's—"

"Missing," I said. "She was pulled through a portal during the Calamity. I don't know where she is. But I'm going to find her."

Kira nodded slowly, her jaw set. "Then I'm coming with you."

"Kira—"

"I trained her, Wyatt," she said, her voice fierce. "I watched her grow from a feral child into a warrior. She's like a daughter to me. If there's even a chance she's alive, I'm going to find her."

Relief flooded through me. "Thank you."

She nodded, then glanced at Aldric. "Good to see you again, old man."

Aldric smirked. "Good to see you too, Kira. Still getting into trouble, I see."

She gestured to the goblin corpses. "They came through a portal two days ago. Been hunting them ever since."

"How bad is it?" I asked.

"Bad," she said grimly. "The portals let things through. Demons, goblins, orcs, worse. They're everywhere. The cities are holding, but the villages..." She shook her head. "It's a slaughter."

My stomach twisted. "Then we need to move fast."

"Agreed," she said. "Where are we going first?"

"The guild house," I said. "My father told me to find a man named Thorne. He'll help us form a party."

Kira nodded. "I know Thorne. Good man. Let's go."

The Adventurer's Guild House was impossible to miss.

It was a massive stone building near the center of the city, three stories tall with a sign hanging above the entrance: a crossed sword and staff over a shield.

Inside, it was packed.

Adventurers filled the main hall—warriors in armor, mages in robes, rogues in leather. They clustered around job boards, shouting over each other as they argued about contracts and bounties. The air smelled like ale and sweat and leather.

A tavern occupied one corner of the hall, where a barmaid was serving drinks to a group of dwarves. In another corner, a blacksmith was repairing a sword while its owner waited impatiently.

It was loud. Chaotic. Overwhelming.

And I loved it.

This is what adventuring looks like, I thought. This is what my parents did.

"Come on," Kira said, leading us through the crowd. "Thorne's office is upstairs."

We climbed a narrow staircase to the second floor, where the noise faded slightly. Kira knocked on a heavy wooden door.

"Come in," a deep voice called.

We entered.

The office was small but well-organized. Maps covered the walls, marked with pins and notes. A desk sat in the center, piled high with papers and ledgers. And behind the desk sat a man who could only be Thorne.

He was massive.

Easily six and a half feet tall, with broad shoulders and arms like tree trunks. His skin was dark, his head shaved, and a thick beard covered his jaw. Scars crisscrossed his face and hands—the marks of a lifetime of battle.

But his eyes were kind.

"Kira," he said, his voice rumbling like distant thunder. "Good to see you. Who are your friends?"

"This is Aldric," Kira said, gesturing to my master. "And this is Wyatt GreyFox."

Thorne's eyes sharpened. "GreyFox?"

I nodded. "My father is Marcus GreyFox. He sent me to you."

Thorne leaned back in his chair, studying me. "Marcus GreyFox. Haven't heard that name in years. How is the old bastard?"

"Drunk," I said honestly. "And broken."

Thorne's expression softened. "The Calamity took a lot from all of us. What do you need, boy?"

"I'm forming a party," I said. "I'm going to the demon continent. I'm looking for my mother and a beast-folk companion. I need people who are willing to risk their lives for a slim chance of success."

Thorne was silent for a long moment.

Then he nodded. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. Most people wouldn't even think about going back to that hellhole."

"I don't have a choice," I said.

"Everyone has a choice," Thorne said. "But I respect yours." He stood, towering over me. "I know some people who might be interested. Follow me."

Thorne led us back downstairs to the main hall.

He stopped in front of the job board and scanned the crowd. Then he raised his voice.

"Listen up!" he bellowed.

The hall fell silent.

Every eye turned toward him.

"I've got a job," Thorne said. "High risk. High reward. Anyone interested?"

A few hands went up.

Thorne pointed to a woman sitting alone in the corner. "Lyra. You in?"

The woman looked up.

She was an elf—tall and lean, with silver hair braided down her back and sharp green eyes. She wore leather armor and carried a longbow slung across her shoulder. And beside her, lying on the floor, was a bear.

A massive, brown-furred bear with intelligent eyes.

"Depends on the job," she said, her voice cool and measured.

"Demon continent," Thorne said. "Search and rescue."

Lyra raised an eyebrow. "You're joking."

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

She studied him for a moment, then glanced at me. "Who's the kid?"

"Wyatt GreyFox," I said. "It's my mission."

"GreyFox," she repeated. "Lower-mid nobility, right?"

I nodded.

She smirked. "And you think you can survive the demon continent?"

"I already have," I said.

That got her attention.

She stood, the bear rising with her. "How long?"

"Seven months," I said. "Before my master found me, then three years after that."

Lyra's smirk faded. "Seven months. Alone?"

"Yes."

She exchanged a glance with the bear, then nodded. "Alright. I'm in."

"Good," Thorne said. He pointed to a dwarf sitting at the bar. "Borin. You interested?"

The dwarf turned, his face flushed from ale. He was stocky and broad, with a thick red beard and arms covered in scars. A massive warhammer rested against the bar beside him.

"Demon continent?" he said, his voice gruff. "Aye, I'm interested. Been itching for a real fight."

"Then you're in," Thorne said.

Borin grinned and drained his mug. "When do we leave?"

"Soon," Thorne said. He scanned the crowd again. "Grok! Where are you?"

A voice boomed from the back of the hall. "HERE!"

The crowd parted.

And a giant stepped forward.

He was at least eight feet tall, with grey skin, massive muscles, and a bald head. He wore simple leather armor and carried a greataxe that looked like it could split a tree in half.

A Goliath.

"Grok want adventure!" he said, his voice loud and enthusiastic. "Grok go with you!"

I blinked. "Uh... sure. Welcome aboard."

Grok grinned—a wide, childlike grin—and clapped his hands together. "Grok excited!"

Thorne chuckled. "Don't let his size fool you. Grok's simple, but he's loyal. And he hits like a battering ram."

"Grok hit hard," Grok agreed.

"Good to know," I said faintly.

Thorne pointed to a figure sitting in the shadows near the fireplace. "Sszareth. You in?"

The figure stood.

He was a lizardman—tall and lean, with green scales that shimmered in the firelight. His eyes were golden and intelligent, and he wore white robes marked with holy symbols. A mace hung at his belt.

"I am," he said, his voice calm and measured. "If this quest is righteous, I will lend my strength."

"It's righteous," I said. "I'm trying to save my family."

Sszareth nodded. "Then I will join you."

"Good," Thorne said. He turned to me. "That's five. With you, Aldric, and Kira, that makes eight. A solid party."

I looked around at the group.

Lyra and her bear. Borin the dwarf. Grok the goliath. Sszareth the lizardman. Kira. Aldric.

And me.

This is it, I thought. This is my party.

"Thank you," I said, my voice thick. "All of you. I know this is dangerous. I know the chances of survival are slim. But I—"

"Save it, kid," Borin said, waving a hand. "We know what we're getting into."

"Grok not scared!" Grok added.

Lyra smirked. "Besides, someone has to keep you alive."

Sszareth inclined his head. "We fight for a noble cause. That is enough."

Kira placed a hand on my shoulder. "We're with you, Wyatt. All the way."

I nodded, my throat tight. "Thank you."

We spent the next two days preparing.

Thorne helped us gather supplies—food, water, weapons, healing potions. He also gave us maps and information about the portals, though most of it was speculation.

"No one knows how they work," he said. "But there are a few stable ones near the border. You'll have to find one and hope it takes you where you need to go."

"And if it doesn't?" I asked.

Thorne shrugged. "Then you're fucked."

Great.

I also learned quickly that I was way out of my depth.

I'd never negotiated with merchants before. I'd never planned a long journey. I'd never even been to a city before this.

And it showed.

"You're paying how much for that?" Lyra said, staring at me in disbelief as I handed over a pouch of coins to a merchant.

"He said it was a fair price," I said defensively.

"He's ripping you off," she said flatly. She turned to the merchant. "Ten silver. Not a copper more."

The merchant sputtered. "But—"

"Ten. Silver."

He sighed and handed back half my coins.

Lyra smirked at me. "You're lucky I'm here, kid."

"Yeah," I muttered. "Thanks."

Borin found it hilarious. "Never left home before, eh?"

"No," I admitted.

"Well, you're getting a crash course now," he said, clapping me on the back hard enough to make me stumble.

Grok, meanwhile, was fascinated by everything.

"What this?" he asked, pointing to a street lamp.

"A lamp," I said.

"Lamp," he repeated, nodding seriously. "Grok like lamp."

Sszareth watched it all with quiet amusement. "You are young," he said to me one evening. "But you have a good heart. That is rare."

"Thanks," I said.

"Do not lose it," he said. "The demon continent will test you. It will try to break you. But if you hold onto your heart, you will survive."

I nodded, his words settling over me like a weight.

On the third day, we gathered in the guild hall one last time.

The party stood in a circle—Aldric, Kira, Lyra, Borin, Grok, Sszareth, and me.

Thorne stood off to the side, his arms crossed.

"Before we leave," I said, my voice steady, "I need to say something."

Everyone turned to me.

"I'm asking you to risk your lives," I said. "To go to the most dangerous place in the world. To search for people most of you have never met. The chances of survival are slim. The chances of finding my mother and Rue are even slimmer."

I paused, my chest tight.

"If any of you want to back out, I understand. I won't hold it against you. But I'm going. No matter what."

Silence.

Then Borin laughed. "You think we'd come this far just to back out now? You're dumber than you look, kid."

"Grok not leave!" Grok said. "Grok stay with Wyatt!"

Lyra smirked. "I've survived worse. Probably."

Sszareth inclined his head. "We are committed."

Kira stepped forward and placed a hand on my shoulder. "We're with you, Wyatt. All the way."

Aldric smiled faintly. "You're stuck with us, boy."

I nodded, my throat tight. "Thank you. All of you."

Thorne stepped forward. "Then it's settled. Good luck. And try not to die."

"We'll do our best," I said.

We left Thornhaven at dawn.

The city gates opened, and we walked through them into the wilderness beyond.

The road stretched out before us, winding through forests and hills toward the horizon.

I glanced back once, watching the city fade into the distance.

This is it, I thought. No turning back now.

Aldric walked beside me, his expression calm. Kira was on my other side, her eyes scanning the trees. Lyra and her bear led the way, with Borin, Grok, and Sszareth following close behind.

We were a strange group. Mismatched. Unlikely.

But we were together.

And that was enough.

I'm coming, Rue, I thought, my fists clenched. I'm coming, Mom.

Just hold on a little longer.

I'm coming.