Are there not any mighty dragons terrorizing the citizens to slay? Or at the very least a cat named Dragon?

Violet the Screeching Creature

You propose finding a dragon to slay.

Val lets out a snortle. “That’s cute. Lemon thinks he’s Don Quistoat. Yeah, nah, the Guard doesn’t really go for that ‘dragon slaying’ business anymore. And that’s probably for the best, right? The risk-reward ratio is awful.”

Rosaline sighs. “Lemon, I hope you didn’t join the Guard for valour. Because there’s none to be found here.”

“THOU ART MISTAKEN, LADY ROSALINE,” says Diego. “THERE IS MUCH VALOUR TO BE FOUND IN SERVING THE CROWN.”

Suddenly, the doors to the royal chamber fly open with a bang, and a well-dressed squirrel enters. You scramble into line.

“I see Sir Lemon of Sleepytown has decided to grace us with his presence,” says the squirrel.

Val leans over and whispers in your ear. “That’s him. Your commanding officer, Blademaster Alex. ‘The Sterling Knight’ they call him, on account of his untarnished battle record an’ all. He’s getting on in the years, but don’t give him any lip, or he’ll kick your arse to the Outlands and then some.”

You thank Val for the clunky exposition.

Alex claps his paws. “Rosaline. Valentina. Lemon. You three are with me. Diego, you are on royal guard duty. Dismissed.”

Sir Diego takes his leave, the echoes of his footsteps lingering for a considerable amount of time.

“Alright, just had a briefing with Her Majesty. Here’s the deal. We’re heading to Solhill, some hole-in-the-ground shrew hovel. Apparently the residents there are going missing. Could be a titan attack of some sort. Could be nothing at all. We’re going to investigate.”

“Any questions at this point?”