Ar'Kendrithyst

Chapter 9

The ‘Adventurer's Guildhouse’ was a sprawling campus that took up two city blocks with various shops of all kinds located both inside of the campus and outside, in the surrounding neighborhood. Restaurants of every kind both fast and formal, armorers, blacksmiths, vendors and buyers of monster parts, money changers, alchemists, three general stores of all about the same size, a Mage’s Guildhouse, even more alchemists, one really fancy weapon shop, and a ‘Wayfarer’s Guildhouse’, whatever that was.

But more than half of those businesses were dark inside, the holographic signs that would have glowed their names a distant memory. The only way to tell what had once been, were the faded paint images on some windows. There was a breadbasket on the window of one dark building, with a central counter and shelving for bread in the back. It was probably a bakery. The former restaurants were easy to pick out. The open floorplan and the tables and chairs stacked to the sides of the front rooms were a dead giveaway. As were the armorers and blacksmiths, with images of anvils and swords and shields engraved in the stone facades. But the ring of blacksmiths striking metal was a distant memory. The scents of food from dozens of cultures did not fill the air, though some of the food sellers were doing a brisk business.

Vendors did not hawk their wares to passersby. There were barely any passersby to hawk to. Only one general store was open, but it was the second largest one. The Mage’s Guildhouse had a sign that said... something unreadable, because —Erick just realized— interpreting the images on every sign was easy, but he hadn’t yet learned how to read. Hopefully [Language Acquisition] was still active. He had to find a book!

He’d probably have to have someone read it to him, too.

Lost in that particular thought, Erick made his way to the building that was probably the ‘house’ in ‘Guildhouse’. Three stories tall, with a large gold-lettered sign on the front of the building, a rough looking group of five non-humans walked out though a wide open set of double doors. The incani and dragonkin in the group looked at Erick, but resumed their talk with the rest of their people.

Erick walked into the building. It was air conditioned.

Temperature [Ward]s are great, aren’t they? He really should level that skill.

While Spur’s courthouse was stone elegance, this place was wood lodge chic. Three stories tall, the guildhouse had a bar and restaurant area on two of those stories, and full-sized trees for pillars. A receptionist’s area was done-up like a bank-teller’s, with three, eight foot wide privacy stations and metal bars separating the receptionists from the rabble.

There was a lot of rabble and they weren’t shy about noise. Erick tried to ignore their indiscriminate jeers and shouts from the left side of the guildhouse as he walked over to a receptionist. But the black metal orcol receptionist was staring across the guildhouse, at the rowdy bar.

So he gave the sight a second look. And then a rapid third look.

Jane was squaring off against a very large incani in armor similar to Savral’s, but no hands had been raised, no weapons had been bared. That was good for Jane; she was still unarmored and weaponless. She yelled something, but it was too quiet to be heard over the circling crowd.

The man threw a punch. It was so fast he couldn’t see the movement, he could only feel as his stomach dropped to his feet.

But Jane had moved, too, twisting under the arm, grabbing—

The man kicked out. Jane flew across the room. She smacked into a wooden wall and bounced to the floor.

And then Erick found himself standing between the man and his daughter, yelling, “What the hell are you doing to my—”

A punch like a semi truck was headed for his face. The gauntlet of the fist was steel. It was well cared for. It was also odd that Erick was so focused on the—

The armored Incani was smacked away, like a rag doll kicked by a giant. And what a giant! An orcol woman with short black hair and huge muscles stood where the incani man had once been. How she had gotten there, Erick did not know. But he was thankful, no matter the magic or skill involved. She had just saved his life, and Jane was—

Erick rushed toward his daughter, heedless of the silent crowd.

Jane was trying to stand. Erick helped her to her feet. She was bleeding a bit, but her eyes were focused. There probably wasn’t a concussion— And, she was healing herself now. Gently glowing with her [Rejuvenation], she was going to be okay.

The orcol woman spoke to the crowd, “Fights are fine. No biggie. But that human is wearing a Silver Star. You all know the rules in my Guildhouse. We respect those who denounce the Quiet War.” She turned to the armored man who was just now stumbling out of the plaster, onto his feet. “THERE’S NO WAY YOU DIDN’T SEE THE STAR. You finally, FINALLY, handed me a reason to kick you out of the guild, and I’M GOING TO TAKE IT. GET THE FUCK OUT.

“NOW.”

The now-silent guildhouse echoed with the power of her singular voice.

She glared at three other incani, all huddled together. “Are you going to be a problem?”

“No Ma’am!” “No.” “No way.”

“Good.”

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Jane whispered, “You shouldn’t have helped, Dad. Bulgan—”

“Shut up, insolent child.” The orcol woman was suddenly standing four feet away, talking to Jane. “Bulgan would have killed you. He was going to kill you. If not today, then as soon as you stepped into the Dead City. I’m sure he’s done it before, but I could never prove anything.” She turned to Erick and bowed quickly, once. “I’m sorry for what almost happened to you, sir.”

Everyone else stopped, confused as to why the obvious Guildmaster had bowed to Erick. She turned around and glared. The room was back to business as usual, and then her eyes were back on Erick.

“I’m Mog, guildmaster of this house.” She glanced at the Silver Star. “We respect pacifists here. Especially ones apprenticed to Al. He gives us a lot of business every month, and has saved the lives of many rookies down there in the dark.”

Erick smiled wide. “He’s a really good guy, isn’t he! I didn’t know what I expected when I started, but I got more than I bargained for. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Mog.”

She waved him off. “Phshh. Just ‘Mog’ is fine. ‘Miss’ feels strange.”

“I’m Erick Flatt, but I guess you already knew that. I’m Jane’s father. Just ‘Erick’ is fine.”

“Yes you are, but Jane never told us you were an avowed Pacifist.”

“I didn’t know he was, either,” said Jane.

“Me either! Events conspired to send me to the Interfaith Temple because I had heard about this star and a priest inside the temple just handed it to me. And then she was speaking of stuff she shouldn’t have known, and telling me I had to get over here as soon as possible.”

“You… Just got it? Today, even? Really?” Mog frowned, glancing to where the injured incani was limping out of the front door. He moved a bit faster. “Oh. Huh.” She asked Erick, “That priest. About you-tall, older dragonkin woman, silver scales, straight wooden staff?”

“Yes! Who is she?”

Mog nodded, like a light had gone off. “Darenka. The gods and otherwise give her specific missions sometimes, but to qualify for a Silver Star you need a Deep Scan and personal validation from Rozeta herself. That usually takes months. Not… whatever you went through to get it.”

“Irogh did a Deep Scan on us both a few days ago, Guildmaster Mog,” said Jane.

“He did? Hmm, That could… Explain… Sooo many little things adding up to form a proper picture.” Mog smiled. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Erick. Please give my best to Al.”

“Of course.”

“Go home for the day, Jane.”

Jane hung her head. “Yes, Guildmaster Mog.”

- - - -

Erick waited till they were out of the guildhouse district to say, “Soooo… Looked like you were being bullied.”

“Like a fucking child!” Jane spat, “I couldn’t do shit, either!” She calmed down, asking, “How the hell did you know about the pacifist thing? I found out about it yesterday but Head Priest Darenka said I’d never qualify.”

They were walking through a market of the Scaled District, produce piled high and organized in open air stalls, people of every color of the rainbow and the earth buying and selling. A few perked up when they noticed that two humans were walking through the street, and at least one person stared directly at the silver star on Erick’s chest. No one made to impede them, but a few milling through the crowd definitely altered course to listen in on Erick and Jane’s conversation.

Erick was sure to speak loud enough for his audience, but not too loud.

“So there I was, walking out of the sewerhouse, headed out to explore the city like any normal person, when those two incani from the other day flanked me on the street...”

Recounting the story took all of five minutes.

“And then I stepped between you and that big incani— What was his— Bulgan! Looked like a real piece of work, that one.”

Jane was both calmer and angrier at the end. If any of the nearby dragonkin had stuck around for the full story, Erick didn’t know.

“Sooo… what happened between Bulgan and you?”

“Nothing on my part.” Jane pointed at what was probably both a bakery and a sandwich shop, according to the holographic sign. It must have been pretty popular, too, according to the number of people walking in and out. “What do you think they have for lunch?”

“… We should buy sandwiches for the guys at the sewerhouse, too.”

They bought a reusable canvas bag for 3 silver to hold eight meat and cheese packed sandwiches. The food itself was 4 silver for all 8; 5 copper apiece. The sandwiches were selling off the shelves as fast as they were getting made by three frantic people behind a large piece of glass. Not long after Jane paid for their order, the shop was sold out for the day. It was not quite noon.

They took a less controversial path to the sewerhouse that Jane knew of, steering well clear of the incani.

But there was a small problem. The path took them through the orcol part of town. Jane didn’t seem to have a problem keeping her eyes under control, but Erick struggled.

Erick vowed to find a different way through Spur, next time.

- - - -

Savral eagerly took his paper-wrapped sandwich. “Thanks!” He flipped back the faceplate of his helmet, a smile spreading on his blackscaled face. “They always sell out before I can get one.”

“All we saw was the crowd.” Erick handed a sandwich to Bacci, asking, “They’re good?”

Bacci took her sandwich. “Monster meat, cured for at least a month. It’s usually boars or saurs from the western forest, but sometimes you get something more exotic. Whatever good meats the adventurers bring to the shops, really.”

Erick took another look at the sandwiches in his hands. Jane took another look, too, but with those wide eyes she was clearly fascinated, not repulsed.

Al’s heavy footsteps carried up the back staircase. “You brought food?”

Erick already had two sandwiches out to hand them to Al. “Uh. Monster meat?”

“Not really!” Al laughed, gladly taking his lunch. “The butchers of Kin Alley don’t add enough of the good stuff to their cuisine, but the filler meat is good and the cheese is the best around.” He gestured to Jane, then to the star on Erick’s chest. “What’s the story there?”

Jane’s face turned red.

Erick smiled. “There are many stories from today! Let me tell you every one of them.”

Jane’s face turned redder.

“Come, come! Let’s take this conversation to the Resting room.”

- - - -

Al finished his two sandwiches and then a third while Erick recounted his day on the town. Jane ate in silence. Afterward, Al asked questions, mainly about the facial features of the muggers and the people who ran away from him outside of the Interfaith Temple.

A silence descended, framed by the sounds of rushing water down below and Erick eating. He almost picked out the slice of strangely colored meat, but it smelled pretty good. It tasted pretty good, too.

“I have failed you as a mentor. I’ve not been proper about warning you of the dangers of the incani. I have also underestimated the incani in front of the sewerhouse. I knew of Bulgan as a real threat, but he keeps his hands clean inside of Spur and Jane would not be allowed into the Dead City for at least a month. Now… I’m not sure of anything.” He paused. He said, “Maybe you should both stay here in my house until you’re at level 10 with some combat experience.”

“I’m almost at 10.”

Erick stared at his daughter. “What?”

She stared at him. “What level are you?”

“6.”

“You could do better, Dad.”

Al guffawed. “And I thought your father was tenacious! Level 2 when he came in! Were you the same?”

“Yeah. But I think my skills might work together better than my father’s.” She pulled out a black stone from her pocket. “[Strike] the stone with one hand and cast [Rejuvenation] on yourself with the other. I’m gaining at least twice as much experience as my father as I'm using both Health and Mana to level.” She looked at Erick, who was trying tapping his thumbs to his fingers, trying to get a feel for the process. She said, “It takes some practice to get going as fast as you can.”

Al said, “A good method. But it leads to problems down the road. Achieving level 9 this way in so short a time is commendable, but you will be a paper dragon on the battlefield.”

“That’s what other people have said, too. And the stone can only withstand a level one version of [Strike], so 10 HP at a time means a lot of [Strikes]. It’s not a fun leveling method.” She put the stone away. “But I’ve trained much more on Earth than a lot of the level 20s at the guild.” She turned to Erick. “That’s what the fight with Bulgan was about. I kept thrashing his level 30 teammates in the training ring and they were getting pissy. But he’s a level 55 Scion of Strength with over 6000 HP. He’s got all the levels and magical combat experience that I do not.”

Al asked, “If you don’t mind, could you explain your build?”

“Uh. Sure. It’s not as rare as I thought it would be, actually. Pretty standard all-rounder with a movement skill. [Rejuvenation] and [Strike]. The 2x-3x base value skills for Strength, Willpower, and Focus. I just got [Blink] and that is a lot more disorienting than I thought it would be.” She smiled wide. “But it’s very, very fun.”

“You must be exhausted.” Al stared at Jane. “You should have experienced both Mana Exhaustion and Health Fatigue. How did you continue to exploit the Script in your condition?”

Jane nodded. “Vomiting from too much healing? Falling down after regenerating too much mana?”

“Yes.”

“Didn’t seem that bad to me. I’ve had worse.” Jane laughed. “Broken bones. Smashed ribs. Blood loss. Gunshot wounds. Stabbings. Ruptured eardrums. Running for days in the desert— not the crystal forest desert. An actual desert. Snake bites. Not to mention common colds, food poisoning, and the flu being four times worse than healing fatigue and mana exhaustion.” She turned to Erick who was about to object to at least two of those confessions. “Sorry for not telling you about some of that.”

Erick focused on the worst offense. “Who the heck shot you!”

She ignored him. “Veird has magical healing. It’s honestly too easy to ignore the problems of over training on this planet. So I ignored them. I asked about long term side effects. Everyone said there was none that they knew of.”

Erick just sighed.

“Ha ha!” Al laughed and eyed Erick. “I should increase your minimum iterations to six per day!”

“I am not my daughter.”

Everyone laughed but Erick. He just ate his sandwich.

After they finished lunch, Al had a proposition. “I would like to see you in action, Jane.”

“What’s your idea?”

Al said, “There have been signs that an ooze is in the sewers, but no one has seen fit to kill the beast.”

“There’s that word again!” Erick said, “What’s an ooze?”

Al answered, “Slimes are always the first monsters to spawn in a magically dense area, like we have in the sewers. Basic slimes only eat dead and rotten things, turning the detritus of life into healthy biological material, and condensing mana into rads. This is a good thing. But when someone improperly dumps magical waste in a place like the sewers, it starts a chain of events where healthy slimes try to eat the magical waste and die due to magical corruption. Someone started this process about ten days ago, but no one caught on to what had happened until the damage was already done.

“Because of that, there were a lot of dead mutated slime bodies rotting in the dark.

“Eventually, you end up with a slime who has developed a taste for other slimes, and for everything else that moves. These monsters are called oozes.

“Oozes are fast, carnivorous pools of acid that blend into their surroundings when they’re not stalking prey. They’re smart, they’re deadly. And we have one in the sewers.”

Jane asked, “How do you kill it?”

“I know how I would kill it, but how would you kill such a monster?”

Jane smiled. “I’d like to find out.”