The local population of the fire mountain consisted of large extended families of herders that roamed about, avoiding the common fires and monsters - guiding their herds of hardy mountain sheep, goats and ponies to where the grass has regrown in the wakes of the fires. You can remember the innkeeper in the foothills blustering about their "unholy practices" and "filthy ways". But you heard that about the people of the foothills when you were on the Imperial Road and the people of the city when you were a young child in the plentiful farmlands of the Valley of Mist. You are beginning to suspect that everyone thinks there's something wrong with the people over the next hill.
You nudge Sky's reigns towards the distant thin trail of smoke. You're beginning to understand what different kinds of smoke here look like - the thin wisps of smoldering fires that are mostly dead, the thick columns of raging blazes. That smoke - a half-dozen tendrils dancing together in the wind - looks to you like several cookfires all gathered together. It's a decent ride across the steep slopes, sparsely tufted with fast-growing grasses. A few hours later you arrive at the camp of the herders.
The camp is a cluster of a dozen decently sized tents arrayed in a ring. Rough looking mountain ponies are tied up at the perimeter. There's no guard but as you ride up a child spots you and darts into one of the larger tents. No doubt spreading news of your arrival to whoever leads this group. You haul lightly on Sky's reigns and he prances slightly before coming to a stop. You sooth him and pat his mane while you wait to see the herder's response to your arrival.
It's not long before an older woman arrives. Tanned and leathery, she is nimble despite the fact that her hair has gone all to grey. Patchy old burn scars dot her wrists and face. "Hail, Adventurer. Been a long time since the Guild sent anyone to the Fire Mountains." She speaks with a slightly gruff voice, although not disrespectfully.
"I have been sent on a mission of importance. Sent ahead to rescue the princess Anne from the black-scaled dragon with one-eye," you say.
"Oh aye - Spearbreaker. A fearsome beast. If this princess was taken, it would have been better to send an army or to simple pray for her soul."
"Be that as it may, I seek out its lair," you reply, "and would greatly appreciate any aid you can offer. Surely the beast vexes your family as well."
"Indeed it does, but we have learned not to rile the creature. If you strike at it, you might anger it against all people living near its territory. But..." She pauses, considering you for a moment and sighs, "You have the seal of the Guild, and we're no oathbreakers. You're free to strike against it. I'll even tell you where the beast lairs."
The Adventurer's Guild, long ago, made promises to many of the people of the kingdom in return for their support. It is this long tradition that has kept the Guild operational - more than any particular strength or leadership. You are glad to hear it holds strong even out here. Your stomach rumbles a bit and the herdswoman grimaces. "You sound hungry. If you need food, you could join us for the evening meal. There's also a spring nearby if you need to bathe, and we will hold our religious services soon - although I doubt they will be the kind you are familiar with."
You think for a moment. The princess will only last so long in the clutches of the dragon but you are hungry and filthy from the road. Your mentor also taught you to never underestimate the blessings of the gods and spirits. Perhaps you should stay at the camp a while?
It only takes you a little longer to make your decision and you decide to...