The local tavern is stuck in a perpetual smoky fog, but it's the only place in town to be looking for jobs. A couple of requests on the bulletin board catches your attention, but you had barely the time to read them closer before you hear a long-forgotten voice call out your name.
"${character.name}? ${character.name}! No way! Is that you?"
You try to turn around to confirm its source, but you find yourself crushed in a tight, midnight-blue metallic embrace before you could fully do so.
"Wow, it's been so long! How've you been? How was cleric school?"
The grip around you seems to tighten with each passing second, and you can barely squeak out a breath in response.
"Oops, sorry," says your armour-clad friend as you are relieved of their constricting hug. "Forgot about my armour. You alright?"
"I'm fine," you heave, taking a moment to let the air into your compressed ribs. "I didn't expect to see you here, Ammie."
Amelie grins that same grin you've seen her wear all those years ago when the two of you were just two dumb kids from the village. Seeing it and her now feels like a fresh summer breeze. Her lithe figure is carapaced in a sleek midnight-blue armour, a proof of her years in the Dragoon Academy.
"Well, of course I'd be here, dummy," Amelie giggles, "I need to get my first job now that I'm a fully-fledged dragoon! I've got my spear and rifle and everything, see?"
"Oh, what a coincidence," you say, "I'm looking for my first job, too."
"No way!" Amelie beams, "Why don't we team up then? It'll be just like all those times we played as kids!"
"Team up?"
"Yeah! We can be partners! Whaddaya say?" asks Amelie, her gauntlet extended in an open invitation for your approval. Her warm smile reminds you of simpler times, and perhaps, with her around, your new adventuring life can feel that much simpler as well. With a thin smile of your own, you extend your own hand to hers, and together they meld in a firm handshake.
"Why not? Partners, then."