CHAPTER 17

On their way to the Adventure’s Association in Highhelm via the ‘Path to Everywhere’, Radais the Dragon Prince and his loyal guardsman friend Zhanatos ran afoul of a menacing mechanic foe. An intense battle ended with the golem cut in half and Zhanatos wielding a new sword that came with a host of Arcane Record achievements related to being ‘The Prophesied Hero’. Bloodraven was of course NOT at all jealous that ‘the hussy with a blue handle’ could fire energy beams.

Once the fight ended the two decided to take the head of the golem with them to the Adventurer’s Association in hopes someone might be able to tell them more about the robotic rogue. So before the patrols from Exolas City arrived to start asking questions the heroes found the waygate into Highhelm and stepped out into a snowy, frosty, early afternoon.

The shift into the cold thin air of the mountaintop from the temperature-controlled and normal pressure environment of the Ways caused Radais to stumble ever so slightly as they stepped out of the waygate. “Ohh… that air change.” He grumbled.

Zhanatos nodded in agreement, “Like stepping out of a warm house into a windy wintery evening.” He nodded in agreement. He noticed his breath misting as he spoke and, with amusement pointed out, “Hey look, we're blowing smoke!”

“Seeing as how we’re dragons, Zhanatos…” Radais began with a flat tone then let the comment hang as they followed the crowd out of the tower. The sidewalks of Acheron’s biggest city were packed shoulder to shoulder and the streets were filled with those ‘autocar’ machines; they were like carriages minus the horses, powered by some clever use of magic. Their ‘motors’ roared like whelps as they chugged by. The Prince wondered if his island kingdom might ever have roads for his people to drive upon.

The moment they were clear of the tower, hawkers and beggars approached the two half-dragons to ply their trade. The merchants offer amulets that would bring good luck to their wears, they were fake, of course; Radius could tell at a glance they lacked any magical power. The beggars told tales of woe and misfortune. When the crowd began to press too close a loud resonating growl from Zhanatos followed by the sort of menacing glance one could only perform after years of practice told the assembled crowd the half-dragons' coin bags were closed and that they needed to look for easier marks elsewhere. They quickly dispersed and the two began the path to the nearby Adventure’s Association headquarters.

As they crossed the wide stone bridge that connected the central and northern parts of Highhelm Radais glanced out over the vast city. Below the bridge was the vast collection of smaller homes, farm fields, and lakes that made up the lower district. Highhelm (the city) was built in, and along the edge of a crater atop Highhelm (the mountain), a long-dormant volcano. In the skies above Highhelm just barely visible to the naked eye was the multi-colored nexus of Acheron’s globe-spanning Ley Lines. The presence of the ‘Ley Nexus’ made Highhelm the single most magically infused place in all the world. The presence of the Nexus at the top of a once-active volcano has led scholars to believe that when magic first came to the world, it erupted from the very core of the world through Highhelm, but such a notion has never been proven.

At the northern end of the crater rim was the five-story tall Adventures Association headquarters. The building was built in the style of a pentagonal tower with tiered floors. Each of the floors corresponded with one of the five ranks of the guild’s members.

Radais and Zhantos entered through the wide double doors on the ground floor where the ‘Rookies’ operated. The large well furnished open halls were packed with young men and women of various races walking in off the street seeking glory. It was a well-known fact that anyone with a sharpened stick could ‘call’ themselves an adventurer, but only those that were able to climb the rank to second-tier ‘Member’, by making it through the trial period truly deserve the title. There were generally very few familiar faces in the rookie rank as the mortality rate for the rank was quite high, and yet there were always more wannabes with those sticks ready to give it a go.

The half-dragons pushed through the crowd drawing a few gawking stares from some of the members that weren’t used to seeing anyone with such pristine weapons and armor. The two entered the elevator and began riding up.

On the second floor were the ‘Members’ those that had survived the common pitfall and begun to show promise. These were the true adventurers. Those that could be counted on to see a common job done. They made up the bulk of the guild. As the elevator reached the second floor the door opened to reveal another open-air hall, but this one was much less crowded. A few of the guild members recognized the two half-dragons and offered greetings.

“Okay Zhantos, I’ll go upstairs to meet with the guild master. Can you ask around that golem? Surely someone here will know something about it.”

“Can do boss.” Zhanatos nodded. “Sure me, dragon boy, and THE THIRD WHEEL here will make inquiries.” Added Bloodraven.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Radais blinked. “Zhanatos, I think using the severed golem head to… show Bloodraven is speaking is a bit much…”

Zhanatos turned to look at the metal severed head stuck to the tip of the sword as he turned the handle so the head ‘looked’ at him. “Just to be clear it was HIS idea.” He pointed at the head accusingly. He then bobbled the head up and down so the loose jaw on the head flopped open and closed to mimic speaking as Zhanatos spoke out of the side of his mouth in the Bloodraven voice: “Well, I need something to stand out. THIS guy seems to think all swords are the same now. Humph!” “I already told you! I only took the ‘Sword of the Chosen Hero’ because it was the fastest way back to the Ways.” Zhanatos protested. The head’s eyes creaked as Zhanatos used his Metal magic to shift them into a hard stare, “Sure, sure it was just a one-time thing you say, and yet that blue hussy is still on your back!” “Well, it's a perfectly good sword, plus it has ranged attack I want to see how Larxene reacts when she sees I have ranged options now too.” “Oh, so you’re keeping the harlot then?” “Well, no sense in throwing away it--”

Radais interrupted the… ‘argument?’ with a loud cough. “Okay, Zhanatos… and Bloodraven. I respect the fact you two are going through a bit of a domestic right now, but can you two save it for when we’re back on the island? We have much to do and never enough time to do it.”

Zhanatos nodded in agreement, “The boss is right. We need to get ahead of this killer machine thing.” He turned the head to face himself and metal shifted the expression to an angry glare. “‘A head’ are you making fun of me?” Bloodraven demanded. Zhanatos blinked, looking genuinely confused. “What do you mean?” Before the answer came he stepped off the elevator and the door closed as the journey upward continued.

The elevator ventured up to the third floor, where the ‘Veterans’ such as Radais and his friends operated. These were the proven warriors of the guild that had been sharpened against the steel of conflict and hardened by the hammer of adversity. They were the ones that could be trusted to lead teams and take on the tough jobs. They were the sorts that were known within the profession but were not the sorts to have bards writing ballads about them.

The fourth floor was where recognizable names came in the ‘Elite’. This was the floor for those that had attended skill and power beyond the norm. These were the types of adventures that children read about and stories, these are the ones the sharpened stick crowd aspired to be but so often fail to reach. Radais wondered if he and his guardsman might ever reach such a rank. They don’t particularly care much to, they were only a part of the guild to get missions that could help them find the Dragon Gemstones so they could break the curse, but still… one can’t help but wonder.

And finally, at the top, the fifth and final rank is the ‘Heroic’. The figures of legends whose deeds were known across the land. Those that had saved nations, perhaps even the whole world. Mostly the level was a museum honoring such figures as there are a rare few that still walk among the denizens of Acheron today. It was also where the guild’s leader Master Delano Hanover kept his office. Radais exited the elevator and made his way through the rows of marble figures. He recognized a few from stories he had heard during his travels. Had he more time he might take a moment to admire the craftsmanship of the statues, but alas he was in a hurry. In particular due to not wanting to leave Zhanatos to his own devices for too long.

Master Hanover’s receptionist, a woman Radais knew personally from an incident in which he caused all the women of a brothel to quit after just one night with the Dragon Prince, waved him into the office with a smile. “I’ll let him know you’re here, Prince.”

“Thank you, Daisy.” Radais nodded and smiled. He thought back to that night in the brothel in which he discovered their management was utterly terrible! The bastard running the place was collecting half of all their earnings and refusing to hire help to keep the establishment clean! The Dragon Prince had never seen such deplorable conditions so he helped all those nice girls quit and find better positions within the Adventurer's Association.

“Ah, Prince Radais. Thank you for coming.” The elderly human leader of the guild nodded his greeting as the half-dragon walked in. “I assume you got my missive?”

Radais held up the letter with the broken red seal by way of answer, “Indeed. Apparently, the Slahan kingdom has a new ruler after a long bloody war, and they’re having trouble with roving bands of orcs? Seems like business as usual for most kingdoms. I don’t see why anyone would need the Association to step in, much less offer one of the Gemstones as payment.”

Master Hanover let out a little amused chuckle that caused the gray hairs of his neatly trimmed mustache to tremble. “If only it were that simple. As you might have gathered there is more to the matter than what I could reveal in the letter.” He gestured for Radais to take a seat in one of the leather chairs that sat opposite his desk.

Radais nodded his thanks as he sat, “Alright. Let’s hear the rest then. What is it? Political scandal related to a stolen princess? Is someone attempting to summon an elder god to bring about doomsday? Does some special trinket need to be tossed into a certain mountain?”

“It involves the Grand Empire of Tal’dartheria…” Master Hanover began with a grim tone.

‘The dragon haters,’ Radais thought with a scowl.

“I can tell by your expression you’ve already heard of their campaign against all dragonkin.” The guild master noted as he took a sip of tea from his mug. “The Kingdom of Slahan in addition to being a major trade route for the United Kingdoms, shares a border with the empire. We know the empire is looking to expand, they won’t invade Slahan which would kick off a full-scale conflict that they aren’t ready for. However, if the Slahan were to fall to a neutral third party…”

“...Such as a warband of orcs, who were probably ‘encouraged’ to sack the kingdom by the empire…” Radais supplied with a bitter tone.

“... Then the empire would be free to move right in and seize a profitable trade route and establish a foothold for future militaristic expansion. The United Kingdoms would be powerless to do anything about it as doing so would be a treaty violation, the exact sort of political mishap that would be an excuse for some of the… less loyal kingdoms to leave the alliance. In short… the kingdom of Slahan must hold or the world may fall.”