“We're just going to let them take over?” Someone asked. One of the mass of adventurers currently petitioning the central association to let them back inside. The vast majority of them belonged to the various orders – Tyr didn't see a single Hunter there. Only him, and he was just passing by. “Are you at least going to compensate us for our losses?”
“Losses?” An association employee, an old man named Bertrand asked. A hard frown on his face, a bit of bloodshot in his left eye to match the throbbing vein that might just burst from his forehead at any second.
One of the other adventurers stepped forward. His tight leather vest inlaid with the crimson crown of Dynasty, framed by golden embroidery. A gold ranked adventurer wasn't uncommon, but rare enough here in the interior that the association had to give them some respect. They had no real authority in the republic, more of a regulatory agency than anything. The sole extension of the main establishment in the successor states, by relation. The adventurer leaned forward to rub three fingers together in Bertrand's face. “Opportunity cost, old man. I just got here. It cost me money to get here, and I've not been give a single chance to harvest. You'd best ensure that I'm compensated.”
Tyr still had the itch in him. Maybe he just wanted to see exactly how strong a gold ranker was supposed to be. They certainly didn't look like much, but the man had a relatively impressive level of spira for a human. Unfortunately, Girshan caught him again, and Tyr didn't resist this time, allowing him to be dragged free of the crowd and into the streets of Aurora.
“I thought I was supposed to be in charge?” Tyr asked. He wasn't angered in the least, but he was disappointed. Had both a need and a want to strike something, it had only gotten worse during his days in the tunnel. An odd compulsion, but he'd felt it before. It was just unbelievably more potent now, all of the discomfort of the 'change' bottled up and scratching at him.
“Hmm.” Girshan's deep eyes became slits as he stared sidelong at Tyr. Relenting, he relaxed his tight grip and simply shook his head with a soft sigh on his lips. “I don't care what you do, as long as you're not willfully throwing the others into fights that don't need to happen.
“I thought it would.” Tyr shrugged. “I've seen a lot of the church of the flame in recent days and they've all been trying to kill me. Of course I thought they were here to collect my bounty.”
“World doesn't revolve around you, kid. Arrogance like that will get your companions killed, and if that happens, you and I will have a rematch. A man needs to think with his head, I'll start rattling yours until you understand.” Girshan said. And that was that. He released Tyr and stalked off with Abe in the direction of the amenities quarter. A tavern, naturally. Tyr didn't figure either of them as the whoring or drinking type. If there were even whores left in Aurora after the evacuation of non-essential personnel.
“What was that about?” Jura asked softly. She was tired too, it made her sluggish and less irascible, his complete opposite. Almost cute, with the bags around her eyes and constant blinking to remain awake. Yana, on the other hand, was slumped atop Kirk's shell – snoring loudly. Though the maxxid didn't seem to mind, walking softly so as not to jostle her and twisting his eye stalks around to ensure she was still safe and sound. That was cute, too...
“Sound advice.” Tyr replied. “I am sorry, I'm just not very comfortable around so many strangers.”
Jura nodded in understanding, but said no more. Benny chuckled, though, slapping Tyr on the back again with enough force to throw him forward and nearly miss a step in the process. “I've always got your back. I'm sure the beast man is just sensitive because we're all so exhausted, don't let it get to you.”
“It didn't.” Tyr said. “What he told me was common sense. I've always ran around mostly alone. Even when I wasn't alone, I was only thinking of myself. I will try to be less selfish in the future.”
“I don't care what you do, right now.” Jura yawned, stretching her lithe bodily languidly. Tyr blushed and looked away, but he'd seen enough. Her snug fitting armor didn't much to imagination, and with the hotter temperature she'd opted to walk about with no cloak or outerwear. “We should find an inn and... Ah.”
[NO VACANCY]
[MAX CAPACITY]
[NO ROOMS AVAILABLE]
“I suppose that makes sense.” Benny draped his arm around Tyr. Again. He was very 'touchy feely', and it made the other man uncomfortable – but there wasn't much to say about it. People who watched each others backs in battle were like kin in most cultures on the continent. Benny had a dense athletic build and long arms, but he was surprisingly light. Keeping the discomfort to a minimum if Tyr simply pretended he wasn't there. He'd thought that the others, at least Jura, would have found it strange – but she didn't say a word. Orcs were very affectionate to both kin and companions, they lacked the 'moderation' and social norms of mankind. “All of the adventurers were kicked out of the tunnel and now they've taken up all the room. Guess the keep is off limits too since the paladins took over all operations. Damn.”
“There is a swamp nearby.” Kirk suggested.
“...A swamp?” Jura asked. “What would we need a swamp for?”
“It's one of the best places to rest your head.” Kirk said, as if it was a point of common sense to him. Something that everyone should understand. Tyr supposed that for the maxxid who lived in lowland marshes and lagoons, he must miss being near the waters edge. First in Amistad, where the only feature of water was an unremarkable river to the north. Now in the core of the republic. A hundred miles away from the nearest lake. “Oh, apologies madam. It is hard to keep track of all the preferences of you bipedal races. Orcs sleep in caves, yes? I'm sure we could find one close, there are so many mountains in this king--”
“I sleep in a bed...” Jura interrupted, squinting in bemusement at him. “What kind of orc sleeps in a cave? We have houses... With bedrooms.”
“Ah, yes.” Kirk made a noise like a clearing of the throat. Which was bizarre, considering he spoke via air magic and not via... Well, a throat. “Apologies.”
“Orcs have houses?” Tyr asked, but Jura didn't seem much interested in educating him on the ways of her people at the moment. Scoffing at him, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like 'cupid races'. Whatever that meant...
“Regardless.” Kirk 'cleared his throat' again. “That does throw a wrench in any plans to get some shut-eye unless we want to sleep in the streets like a bunch of vagabonds. It is still relatively early, perhaps we can make for a nearby village?”
“It's fine.” Tyr said. “I'll take care of it. You can leave whenever you want to, I doubt we'll see much more action at the gate.” As he spoke, he inclined his head to an entire regiment of paladins. Or rather, by the look of the solitary flame embossed on their breastplates and the length of their skirts, 'warrior priests'. Tyr didn't understand the difference, but he didn't understand a lot of things. There were easily between eighty and a hundred of them, more than enough based on their respectable energy levels to do the same thing the adventurers had been doing. Better, probably. Tyr couldn't see the blessings of a god through his 'sixth sense' until they had begun to reach toward it, but he'd already seen how strong it could be. Enough to lift the average silver ranker to a gold rankers status, at a not-so-educated estimate.
“You will?” Jura asked. “How?”
“Of course he will.” Xavier spoke for the first time, nodding confidently. “He's our leader now, remember? Big bro always takes responsibility, right?”
“...Big brother? Never mind.” Tyr shook his head. Eccentrics truly did surround him at every possible opportunity. “There isn't a Hunter chapter house here, but there is an office. I am sure that they have a small barracks. Maybe a reception with some sofas. Who knows.” He shrugged, not leaving much room for an argument. As least there'd be a roof over their heads, and it looked like it was about to rain at any moment.
It was located in the massive tower at the center of the city. On the fourth floor, all Tyr needed to do was flash his badge to the receptionist and he was granted access to every part of the facility except for the last. Even the other guild chapters, bizarrely. He didn't bother with those, though. After his experiences first with the Blue Rose and later watching as Dynasty members skulked about like they owned the place – he had no desire to interact with them further. Tyr had no problem killing a man, skinning him alive or nailing him to something sturdy and tall, but harassing customer service employees was a greater evil in his mind.
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“Huh.” He mused. “Bigger than I thought it'd be.” As with so many buildings he'd been walking into in recent memories, it defied its external proportions by a slight but noticeable margins. More grandiose than he would've expected as well. A herald to the times when the Hunter's guild was more important and respected. Past the dusty reception that clearly hadn't been used in a very long time, the floor was dark. Not a single light was lit. The long finger of illumination coming from the open lift to the place all that split the mass of darkness. What had once been a place of great joy, triumph, and celebration. Now like a mausoleum of times long past. Not a single person inside. Or rather, that's what Tyr thought.
The others nearly jumped out of their skin as a voice came from the dark. A gruff and exhausted voice, and the single point of light in the room a single cherry red, glowing eye. “We meet again, lad. Apologies for the state of things, but I'm not about to clean it up for you.”
Tyr extended his index and middle finger together, pointing around the room to send embers at the sconces he saw on the walls. Magical lights that would simulate a flame. Not flammable, but their activation sequence was contact with fire magic, so it wasn't much different. Their warm glow bathed the room in light. The portly dwarf sucking from his pipe squinting and hissing at his abrupt reintroduction to illumination. “Could've warned me.” The dwarf hissed.
“What happened here...?” Tyr asked. “Where is everybody?”
The dwarf pursed his lips, opening them but saying nothing, closing his mouth again. This continued for some time until he sighed tiredly and chuckled. Patting away at his belly and taking another long drag from his pipe. The man, or dwarf in this case, was clearly under some kind of strain. “All dead. Most of them, I reckon. Three hundred Hunter's were sent to Vinland on a subjugation order. That was the first dungeon to break. Most came from this city and Leygein, that's why you haven't been seeing too many of us around. And why most of the gold and platinum rankers are away. As it turns out, Aurora got off light. Something happened in the astral gate they said, blaming you for it actually, saying a lot more besides. They all reckon your bastard status is all a ruse by your father. Tricky man, that, all brawn and more brains. Figured you're a spy here to foment chaos in the republic. Not that it matters, but. Maybe watch your back...”
“Really?” Benny stepped forward, eyes on the dwarf. “You said there were other cities that this has happened to? Which ones? We could go there, they sound like a good fight.”
“Which ones?” The dwarf chuckled. “All of them, my boy. Every. Single. One. Only in the republic, as of yet. Or so I hear. Got the whole country mad and scattered. Goliath got it the worst, heard they disbanded outright, nobody left to lead them. Hunter's not much better off. Thousands dead. Maybe tens of thousands. Maybe even more. Heard Triton fell before the evacuation could finish, now the whole state is crawling with monsters all shapes and sizes. Rafael himself was last seen there before communication with his unit went dark. Shame. He was a good man.”
“Who?” Tyr asked. Then again, there was only one adventurer 'Rafael', one of the most famous of their vocation around.
“Rafael Evenstar...” The dwarf raised an eyebrow. “...Our guild master. Mithril ranked adventurer...? Famed across the republic. The Winter Knight? No?”
“Oh... Well... That's a shame. What's your name, by the way?” Tyr asked. “I don't want to continue to refer to you as 'the dwarf' in my inner monologue forever. I'm not that creative with framing words around to make it sound less repetitive – and you already know my name... So... I feel like an introductory sequence is unnecessarily. Maybe?”
“Hogan.” The dwarf replied. Or rather... Hogan replied. “Hogan Fried. Like... Fried chicken. Chicken fried steak. Fried bacon, you know? Hogan Fried adventurer. Finger lickin' dwarf.”
“Do you always introduce yourself like that...?” Tyr asked, lips puckering as his hands and feet shriveled.
“What? How else am I supposed to get people know about the family business? Oh, I see. I'm a dwarf, so I must be a smith. I must have a beard and not just a magnificent mustache. I must use an axe or a hammer and live beneath a mountain grumbling about precious gems and my big book of grudges.”
“But you do use a hammer.” Jura squinted again.
Hogan shrugged. “I suppose I do.”
“Are you a blacksmith, too?” Xavier asked.
“I suppose I am. Well, in truth, dwarves live quite a long time. You pick up hobbies, the fact that I am better than the average human at the forge doesn't make me a blacksmith among dwarves. It's recreational. My true passion is cooking.”
“Then...?”
“Details, details, young man. It's all about who you know. Common sense. Never drink goats milk in the summer or you'll be running about with a stomach full of curd – it's a bad choice.” Hogan replied, leaving all of them confused. Even Kirk, who was typically rather difficult to rattle. Either that or his alien features made it impossible to discern how he really felt.
“This is a very bizarre conversation, Hogan.” Tyr observed.
Hogan shrugged. “All a matter of perspective, my boy.”
“Well. Can we sleep here? For a few days, maybe. I'm not sure how long we'll stay, but all of the inns and taverns are full up.”
“I don't care.” Hogan said nonchalantly. “I am technically the most senior hunter left in this region until Captain Daito returns, so I guess my word is law for our lot.”
“They aren't Hunter's. Is that fine? This lot are probationary members, but the two women and the younger kijin are unaffiliated with a guild.”
Hogan shrugged again. “Nobody left to stop you. Except for me, of course. And I'm not long for this world. Nasty bit of poison. Some warped veld got me with his member. Never seen one come out like that, must be a lifetime of agony to live with your dangly bits as a poisonous barb. Stuck it right in me side, see...? Huh?” Hogan's side had been a mess of blood and black veins around a wound that would not heal. But the black veins were gone, and the hole had begun to clot quickly. Dwarves healed quicker than many other races. Only orcs could beat them at that, and dwarves were typically stronger. Not that they interacted much, but it was a worthwhile comparison.
“I cured you. Healing is up to your body, though, so take it easy. And it's venom, not poison. Poison is ingested, venom is intravenous. Or so I've been told.” Tyr lifted Yana like a child when she refused to rouse herself from the comforting warmth of Kirk's shell, taking her to one of the twelve rooms present in the facility and laying her down on a bed that looked clear of dust unlike almost everything else present before returning. Jura and the others joined her in rest, taking up only half the rooms that the barracks area was composed of. More than enough space for all of them.
He seated himself on the sofa opposite Hogan and took a fried chicken out of his ring and began to tear into it. The irony wasn't lost on the dwarf, a glint of amusement hanging in his eye as he puffed at that pipe of his. Another stereotype, Tyr thought.
“You cured veld poison?”
“Venom.”
“Don't be an ass, boy. I'm still your superior. But I'm also not one to look a favor of knowledge in the mouth and call it a dishonor. Venom, then. You cured a venom that even the churches could not? How? Without even touching me? I had spoken with two of those flame acolytes and a whole host of the water mages, and they said without the monster corpse – it would be near impossible to cure.”
Tyr shrugged. He didn't feel like explaining it yet again. “I'm nice like that, my immense talent shining through. I'm more interested to hear about what's happening, though. You said Daito was okay?”
“Alive. He arrived in our Leygein charter to find it empty, only juniors left in the guild now. A few scattered steel rankers and higher about, but many have taken to other guilds. We're headed for a disbanding, never thought I'd see the day. But without the chapter masters, there is nothing we can do. The captain could take over, but he won't, best to start looking for another job. Guess I'll do the same. Thought I'd have myself a quiet albeit agonizing death and now you've made me consider my position in the future. It's bittersweet.”
“What about the republic?”
“Torn near in half. The situation in Vinland was stabilized but not after thousands of deaths. Like I said, Triton fell and most of the state is overrun but the capital is still holding well and steady. Monsters are unlikely to besiege a large settlement like that. Empires got a whole host of warships waiting to burn the coastline if things get out of hand. That's got the senate up in arms, even in the mess we're in. Politicians talking about declaring war on Haran, saying this was all a plan to prepare for an invasion. Good thing Alexandros is there cleaning it up. Or so I'd assume so, he doesn't report his movements publicly like the other primus', but he's a reliable sort. The Krieg and Baccia are only a single offense from declaring war on one another themselves. Whole free marches are a mess. Blaming Baccia and the Brotherhood for the crimes of that bloody mage. Varia's got two legions on the border warring with some new species of...” Hogan chuckled, astonishment plain in his eyes.
“I don't expect you to believe it, but from what I hear, they are doing battle with mushroom people. A new race, or perhaps an old one making itself known again like the ashkaari did. Talking mushrooms roaming about eating everything in sight. Stripping whole farms. Has the imperials panicking over a potential famine. Threatening punitive action if the other kingdoms don't give tribute. Even in times like these...” Hogan shook his head, spitting on the floor. “Church militants are declaring crusades all over the place. House of Water is invading the border islands and they've got Teluria in an uproar. House of Air is petitioning Primus Jartor to declare war on what they call the 'elves'. House of Fire is here, naturally, but you saw that. Varia won't let them play along their border so they found a conflict here and threw their whole order into it. Good things they did, though. Whole words a mess and we can use the help. You men and your constant squabbling even in the midst of such chaos... No offense, mind you.”
“None taken.” Tyr frowned, suddenly finding the chicken in his hands not so appetizing after all.