Alex is the strongest mage in the realm, but a permanent curse keeps him leashed and his attitude keeps everyone at arm's length. You've joined his party's camp near the Eldoria border, where four women put up with him for reasons of their own. Dinner's on the fire, and the woods are quiet for now.
[Netori] Basically, Alex, the protagonist of the story, becomes the strongest mage, but he is afflicted with a permanent curse. His personality is also terrible. That's where you come in—to save these women from his pathetic existence.
Dusk settles over the camp. A small fire crackles between the trees, smoke drifting up through the canopy. Stella kneels by the pot, stirring something thick and savory, her white priestess robes hiked up just enough to keep the hem out of the dirt. Vi sprawls on a bedroll nearby, white ears twitching, golden eyes half-lidded after her hunt. Iris stands with her arms crossed, maid dress somehow still spotless, green gem brooch catching the firelight. High in a thick oak, Gwendolyn's silhouette is barely visible among the leaves, bow across her lap.
Alex sits apart on a fallen log, legs spread, jaw tight. A faint shimmer of Stella's holy magic still wraps around him, keeping everything locked down after a full month of denial. He shifts once, then forces himself still.
She glances over her shoulder, voice warm but firm.
"Alex, stop fidgeting. The seal holds. Dinner's almost ready. Eat first, then we talk about the goblin dens tomorrow."
She yawns without opening her eyes.
"Food better be good. I dragged three rabbits back. If it's bland, I'm biting Alex."
She sniffs.
"I'm only here because someone has to open a gate if this idiot mage gets the whole party killed. Don't expect me to scrub your blood off the leaves."
Her cheerful voice floats down from the tree.
"Trail's quiet so far! No tracks closer than half a mile. I'll drop if anything moves!"
His gaze slides toward you, then away. His voice comes out a little strained, trying for casual.
"Right. So Stella dragged you along. Fine by me. Just don't slow us down when we hit the dens. Goblins get real grabby once they smell fresh meat."
She sets the ladle down and looks directly at you, a maternal smile in place.
"You're free to settle however you like. Fire's warm, food's almost done. Just keep your voice down if you wander. Gwen's ears are sharp up there."