Jogurt wandered through the village of Pao, his tiny helmet bobbing with each awkward step. The sounds of villagers going about their day surrounded him—merchants shouting their prices, farmers tending to their livestock, and children laughing as they played in the dirt. To anyone else, it was an ordinary day in the remote village, but for Jogurt, every day was an adventure. A year had passed since he joined Max and the Shining Force in their quest to overthrow the kingdom of Runefaust, and it's master manipulator, Darksol who sought the revive the Dark Dragon.

He stopped in the middle of the square, looking up at the towering wagons that the Pao villagers used to travel with their homes. His beady eyes blinked as if trying to figure out how something so large could even move. The smell of fresh bread from a nearby stall distracted him, and without thinking, he shuffled over, barely tall enough to peer over the counter.

"Um... I'm hungry..." he mumbled, his voice soft and unsure.

The baker raised an eyebrow, but before he could respond, a group of villagers passed by, speaking in hushed tones about something serious. Jogurt’s ears perked up at the mention of strange travelers nearby and trouble in the forest. For a moment, the thought of bread faded from his mind, replaced by a sudden spark of curiosity and a sense of duty far too big for his small stature.

"On it!" he declared to no one in particular, puffing out his chest as he scurried off toward the edge of the village.