A hero's departure

A young woman with long blonde hair enters the Fallkirk adventurer guild hall. As she jogs up to her division organizer, a racoon perched on her shoulder moves to a sitting position.
 
"I'm back! TASK COMPLETE!" She gives a thumbs up, and a wink. The racoon puts its claw out as if joining her in the pose.
 
"Nice job, Beatrice." Despite the words, the man behind the counter says it flatly. "So, the cat has been returned to her owner?"
 
Beatrice hangs her head and sighs. "You know, you can at least let me pretend I've done something actually heroic for at least like 10 seconds, right Woody?"
 
Woody appears unimpressed. "Come on now, finish the debriefing."
 
"Fine." Beatrice pouts. "I searched for the stray for like 45 minutes. Then, I found it in a tree. I used my HEROIC POWERS to get it down. Finally, I brought the cat to Mrs. Fisher. She was grateful, and agreed to pay the cost."
 
"And by heroic powers, you mean your telekinesis, right?"
 
Beatrice let out an exaggerated sigh. "Yeeessss..." She pauses to pout. "When will I be able to do actual real hero stuff? Like running in with a sword and saving children from pirates, or fighting giant monsters?" She thrusts her sword into the air for effect.
 
"You know as well as I do that no one wants to entrust risky tasks to some random 20 year old who has never been in real combat, right?"
 
"Hey, I'm not just a 20 year old, I trained under HERO RISEN FULSAIL!" The others in the guild were used to her antics, and did their best to ignore her shouting, but some were doing a better job than others.
 
"Bein' trained by someone who did something decades ago don't mean anythin." Woody's rock steady demeaner as still didn't change one bit.
 
"Besides, how am supposed to get hero experience if those jobs require hero experience beforehand? What happens when the experienced people die out? Demographically the system is doomed to fail as much as a nation with a declining population, like Nemurian catastrophe 1500 years ago---"
 
Woody interrupted. "Look kid, I don't make the rules. Maybe it will make our 'demographs' bad or whatever. Doesn't change that there ain't no way our Fallkirk clients will want to hire you, plain and simple."
 
Suddenly Beatrice perks up. "Oooh, but what about other clients?"
 
"Well, same with Northbury ones." Woody appears to be in thought.
 
"Well, are there others?"
 
Woody rubs his chin. "Well, we did get one the other day from this one place..."
 
"WHAT IS IT?! TELL ME!" Beatrice began hopping up and down, and this was enough to most of the heads in the room to turn, with scowls attached.
 
"Quiet down girl or I ain't tellin' you nothin." Woody says sternly.
 
Beatrice becomes dead quiet, but is shaking a little.
 
"I don't want to get your hopes up. Its this little place down south in the middle of nowhere called 'Saltmarsh,' apparently. Someone down there had an ... involved ... request, without any experience requirement, but no one wants to travel hundreds of miles for a place like that. So we were just about to tell them that..."
 
Beatrice fist pumps. "I'll do it!"