Unsurprisingly, adventurers are not complicated. When a person may have many motivations in their life, you’ve found that usually one will triumph over all the rest, and in the case of the madmen whose profession is fighting near the edge of the law and civilization itself, the singular motivation that trumps all others is cold, hard, coin. It just so happens that you, Lorina de Lindan, have plenty of coins. It’s your birthright, after all, and even though with each passing day, the likelihood that you will inherit anything more than a simple estate grows smaller and smaller, you would hardly classify yourself as anything less than ludicrously wealthy. When you first entered the academy's gates almost four years ago, and the servants took your luggage, they carried items with more monetary value than they’ll likely ever make in their pitiable lives, like that wyvern-bone kukri, for example.

Ah, but you’re letting your mind wander as you let Alyssa deal with the actual monetary transactions for each of the adventurers who have approached your corner table in the tavern. You were pretty generous in your offer. Not everyone in this kingdom would pay half of a quest’s reward upfront, but here you are with an increasingly emptying coin purse. That’s not even mentioning the round you bought for the tavern before even announcing your offer or the round each adventurer gets for signing up. Marie tried to help at first but quickly gave up when she realized that any sort of math was involved in this process, and very quickly began giving moral support by utilizing a technique from her land known as “nomikai,” though to you all it looks like she’s doing is drinking rotgut with various scantily-clad witches and barbarians. It's not your scene. You prefer a nice and simple glass of wine to keep you company as you exert authority across the table. A princess’ role is to exert authority by staying as still as possible while watching over the people doing her bidding. You learned so when you were but a child.

You won’t find yourself having to move for quite a while, as out of all the two dozen or so adventurers who frequent the tavern at midnight, only around four find themselves uninterested in this quest. You can’t fathom why, but you suppose they all have other problems in their lives. Maybe a younger you would have been more upset at this, for these peasants should feel honored simply observing your radiance, but getting to serve under your magnificence? Eh, perhaps it's the late hour getting to you, but somehow, you find yourself unconcerned with that matter more than anything.