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84 - Guild Intro
🕑 Added 2023-08-08 16:00:06 +0000 UTCDropping off her items was a relief; she’d packed fairly heavily for the multiple day trip.
She’d heard a few offhand mentions of spatial storage devices, but those were artifacts reserved for the extremely wealthy and powerful. Which she was, in a sense, or at least would soon become, but Skatikk, who she had raided for such supplies, certainly wasn’t. They’d had no such artifacts in their armory for her to pillage.
She might look into procuring one, though she wondered whether even she had the kind of funds to be blowing on something that was probably unnecessary. Especially when any payments she made were made literally in her own power: each coin spent slowed progress to her next hoard upgrade.
In just her robes and staff, Sable headed back to the Adventurer’s Guild headquarters, with Roman splitting off to go—well, wherever. Sable didn’t know how ‘information brokers’ and ‘finding connections’ worked, and that had been one of the biggest reasons she had needed to bring Roman to Wastehaven.
A different receptionist greeted her this time, with the first being busy; there were several people manning the headquarters of a city this size. This woman was on the shorter side, with long blonde hair done up in a pony tail. She looked tired, with bags under her eyes, but she gave a friendly smile anyway.
“I have an odd request,” Sable said after making the necessary pleasantries. “I’m from out of town. Somewhere rather remote. I don’t know much about how the Guild works, and I was wondering if there was anyone who could show me around and that I could ask questions to.”
The receptionist tilted her head, but didn’t seem too surprised. Sable knew ‘not knowing much about the Guild’ was more than a bit odd, but in a city like Wastehaven, people who were ‘more than a bit odd’ were filtering through constantly. The receptionist barely paused before replying, “Sure. I can’t leave my desk, but there’s probably someone who would be happy to show a newcomer around. Give me a second?”
Sable nodded, and the blonde woman scurried away from her desk, headed to the resting area filled with tables and adventurers. Sable hesitated, not knowing whether she should follow or wait. The woman didn’t ask her to, so she stayed put. The woman stopped by several tables, asking a few people, scouting out an introductory guide for Sable from the gathered relaxing adventurers.
She returned with a young-looking man—eighteen or nineteen at a guess—in tow. He had short brown hair and brown eyes, wide shoulders and a build that would be intimidating if not for how he carried himself, which was to say, rather timidly. He offered a smile, and Sable gave a polite one in return.
“This is Darian. He’s also new to the Guild, and can help you get situated. You still need to register, I take it?”
“Eventually,” Sable said. “But not right now.”
The receptionist nodded, then offered one more parting smile, leaving her with Darian.
She looked the boy up and down. Sable probably wasn’t much older than him, but the past week felt like it had aged her years; she’d had to grapple with both situations and ethics most people wouldn’t in their life. So, his boyish sheepishness really did make her feel much older in comparison; and the way he squirmed in place at her brief scrutiny made the effect twice as prominent.
Not that his apparent youthfulness meant anything bad; Sable was just surprised to note how much older she felt, looking at him.
“Thank you for helping,” Sable said. “I’m Ivory.”
“Nice to meet you,” he said, seeming grateful the scrutiny—even brief as it was—had ended. “Mage, I take it?”
“Yes. Warrior?” That was the impression she got from his wide shoulders and muscular build.
“A [Shielder], but more or less, yeah. Warrior with a big defensive bent. So, what did you need help with?”
“Just to be shown around. I have a few questions about general topics. I’m from out of town, and don’t know much about the Guild.”
He tilted his head, so Sable clarified:
“How it works. Structure. Joining. Benefits. Promotion. And any quirks specific to Wastehaven’s Guild.”
“Sure,” he said, taking the odd request in stride like the receptionist had—though also pausing, indicating it was odd to be that unaware. But not so much as to outright baffle him. “Um. Okay.” He rubbed his chin. “So, I guess I’ll give an overview, then show you around?” He waved at the quest board, or maybe the hall in general.
“If you don’t mind.”
“I don’t,” he said. “I mean, I got the same kind of help from all kinds of people when I first joined. Part of being an adventurer is looking out for each other. It’s a dangerous world out there. We’re all friends.” He wrinkled his nose. “Or, should be.”
“I take it that it doesn’t always work out that way?”
“Course not. Bad apples are everywhere, even in the Adventurer’s Guild.” He grimaced. “Maybe especially the Guild. But, uh, yeah. Let’s see. Guild structure. You know the rank and star system?”
Even Roman had known that much—it was the most fundamental part to how adventurers were organized, and the system carried even through Kingdom lines.
“Bronze, silver, gold, so on,” Sable said. “Stars to subdivide each. But do you mind going over it? Just to verify I don’t have anything mixed up.”
“Sure. Like you said, there’s five ranks, starting with bronze and moving up to silver, gold, platinum, and diamond. Inside these ranks, you can have up to five stars, starting with one and going up to five. These qualify you for different quests and are kept private inside the Guild’s records—you don’t have to display your badge if you don’t want to. But you and your group do have to qualify for a quest before taking it.”
“And they line up roughly to levels?”
“Yeah. Mostly. You can consider yourself tracking average if you’re keeping up with the rank and star system, but it’s also okay if you’re not. Typically each rank is a ten level increment, and stars two levels, but some people get there earlier or later. It’s the Guild’s system after all, and it judges your ability to clear dungeons and handle monsters—or other, more sensitive quests. Won’t always line up to levels, depending on the class—or your talent. Some people make it to silver at eight, some at twelve. Or, hell, at five or fifteen. So just worry about improving. Comparison is the thief of joy, and all that.”
Sable didn’t particularly need the pep talk, but she appreciated how Darian seemed well-meaning. She noted that he only came up to her nose; even though he was tall and broad shouldered, Sable was simply taller than almost everyone—or at least most of the humans. He didn’t seem intimidated by it; he was probably used to races taller than himself.
“How is where you start determined?” Sable asked. “When you first join?”
“Most people start at bronze one star,” he said. “Because most people sign up right as they get their class. But I take it your situation is different. Not level one?”
“No.”
“Then they’ll handle your exact placement during evals. How you perform will affect your initial rank. Dunno too much about that. I joined before even getting my class, actually.”
“You can do that?”
“Sure,” he said. “There’s pretty big overlap between the weakest, most incompetent level ones and the best unclassed, after all.” He gave her an odd look, as if surprised she didn’t know that.
“That makes sense.” She shrugged. “As I said, I haven’t heard much about the Guild in general, or subjects peripheral to it.”
“Came from somewhere real remote, then, didn’t you?”
Sable nodded, and Darian didn’t push her. Probably because he sensed Sable didn’t seem willing to chat about it.
“Figure your test’ll be more comprehensive than usual,” he said. “Though more or less the same shape as ours. Find your limits. They’ll probably undershoot your rank though, overall, and you’ll have to take quests to earn your stars up to your appropriate rank. Because the only way to really test someone is see how they hold up in the real world. It’s better not to rank you too highly and accidentally get you killed. It’d look bad.”
“Reasonable.”
“Alright. So, let’s check out the quest board?”
“Please.”
The two of them approached the board. Sable caught the man stealing looks as they walked, trying to be discreet. She decided against saying anything about it. She knew she was an interesting arrival, and figured it best not to address it, seeing how he was going out of his way to help her. Though she wondered whether the interest was of less professional sort—not interest in the mysterious stranger, but her in a more personal way. She was halfway getting that impression, but it could be hard to tell.
Arriving, the two of them scanned the board. It wasn’t the most organized, with papers detailing the various quests scattered all across it, without any apparent system.
“This is the bronze rank board,” Darian said. “And the posted limits, like that bronze-three-star right there, are for solo adventurers. Bronzes can take silver-rank quests too, but we’d need to be in a group. There’s a whole system for deciding how many of, and what ranks, combine into the final qualifying result. You can pick up a booklet that goes over all the Guild’s little restrictions. Impossible to memorize them all, to be honest. They’re free at the front desk.”
“I’ll do that.”
“Quests themselves are pretty simple,” Darian said. “Requirement, description, reward. Obviously, some of them are easier than others. And it’s people ranking them, so sometimes they get the difficulty wrong—and sometimes by a lot. Part of adventuring life.”
“And they help you rank up?”
“And put food on the table,” Darian said. “Not that that’s too much of a problem, even for the low rankers. Adventuring pays well.”
“Because it’s deadly.”
Darian shrugged. It was the lackadaisical kind of response she’d expect of a young man who had recently entered the profession. Not that Sable was some hardened veteran who knew better, but she didn’t think she’d ever be casual about choosing to delve dungeons and hunt monsters for a living.
“How’s that work, though? Ranking up through quests?”
“You give a mission report and a board evaluates your performance. It has some overhead involved. You know, bureaucrats. The Guild’s infested with them.”
“I see,” Sable said. “Is it better to work in a group or not, in your opinion?”
He scratched his cheek. “That’s a question everyone’ll answer different. Ask one of the solo adventurers, and their response would probably be obvious. But I think I can safely say that some classes, at least, are simply better suited in a group. Namely, heavy specializers. Like me. I’m great at holding and drawing attention, and not dying while doing it, but my offense is lacking. And my utility. And … well, everything besides being a meatshield,” he laughed. “Some mages would be in the same boat. I’m sure you’d know if you were one of those.”
Sable hummed in agreement. She already knew from her adventure in Sunstone that mages shouldn’t be as durable as her—even though she was already a dozen or hundred times less durable than her dragon form. She suspected she’d be a perfectly fine solo adventurer. But that wasn’t the point of her coming here and checking out the Guild. She wanted to learn her enemy—and learn more about the world. Could hardly do that with solo adventures.
“Speaking of,” Darian said. “What kind of mage are you? And are you looking for a group? We’d take just about any kind of magic user. We’re physical-heavy. I’d assume you’d fit right in.”
For the second time in the interaction, and at the eagerness in the offer, Sable wondered whether Darian’s interest was fully professional. He had seemed generally timid and friendly, so that wasn’t the part that made Sable wonder, but rather that he seemed suddenly nervous, looking at her hopefully. Sable could be imagining it, but she didn’t think so. She’d been the first to notice that her half-dragon form was, frankly put, nearly flawless—Sable still didn’t feel entirely like herself with her new beautiful, regal features. And Darian had most definitely not been the first she’d caught stealing glances. She’d simply been assuming they were looking at her because she was an odd sight, but knew that wasn’t entirely the truth.
She might have been interested in return, even setting aside that she had way more important things to be handling in her life, since Darian was generally an attractive man—but that last word, ‘man’, was ultimately the problem.
She decided to just ignore it, as she’d been doing. There was an easy way out of his offer, anyways. On Darian’s right shoulder, she’d caught a glimpse of his rank badge. People weren’t required to display their rank, but Darian did, and she saw a bronze plate with three stars—which put him at, assuming average progression, around level six. Which was respectable, seeing how only one in fifty had combat classes, and one in five thousand ever reached level ten—by Roman’s guesses—but level six was still far outpaced by Sable’s own progression.
“I suspect I’ll be placing into silver rank,” she said simply. “But thank you for the offer.”
Darian deflated at that. “Fair enough. Honestly, you kind of had that air about you, so I’m not surprised. Silver rank without knowing much about the Guild, though—that’s something. Can I ask where you’re from?”
“A while away,” Sable repeated.
Darian nodded. “Okay, well, regardless. You’ll want a party, right? I can help you figure out the group system. There’s a board for it, like the quest board. You’ll want to look at the one in the silver’s hall for actual teammates, but this one’ll be fine to help you get a feel for how it works.”
