"Hey… do you really think those four adventurers can handle the Red-Eyed Crows?"
The question came from a villager who had just finished processing a fresh mutton carcass. His hands were still slick with grease as he wiped them on his apron, his face shadowed with unease. His gaze flickered toward the road where the adventurers had arrived earlier.
"To be honest, I'm worried," he continued in a hushed tone. "They look too young… maybe fifteen at most. They can't have been adventurers for long."
Another villager, an older man with calloused hands from years of farm work, nodded grimly. "Ever since I saw those last adventurers cut down by goblins… I can't help but feel anxious when new ones come to take on dangerous quests. We lost good people that day."
A murmur of agreement passed through the small group gathered around.