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Seamus pushed open the heavy oak doors, and the warmth of the guildhall greeted him like an old friend. The scent of brewing coffee and fresh bread wafted through the air, mingling with the faint aroma of aged wood and parchment. Lanterns hung from iron brackets along the walls, casting a soft, golden glow that illuminated the worn patina of the beams overhead. The space was bustling but it was not crowded, with long dark-wood tables arranged in neat rows, guild members, identifiable by their seals, seated in groups, poring over maps, sharing plates of food and pots of tea, and engaging in quiet, relaxed conversation. An enormous fire roared at the far end of the hall and alcoves housing wooden staircases lead above and below on either side.
Though it was a place of official business—where deals were made, quests were assigned, and reports delivered—the atmosphere was far from cold or bureaucratic. Laughter mixed with the clink of tankards, and the murmur of voices created a pleasant hum that filled the hall. It was the kind of place where people not only worked but lived—where camaraderie warmth provided a sense of genuine community. Seamus felt immediately at home.
After so long spent on edge, the simple coziness of the guildhall felt more immediately real than anything he’d experienced in a long time, as though both life’s worries and its boredoms were a distant memory beyond its sturdy walls. This was a place where exciting things happened, a place of hope and the promise of adventure.
A tall, broad-shouldered, bearded man, passing through the entranceway, noticed Seamus lingering by the door and waved him over. His face was ruddy from the heat of the hearth, and his clothes were simple but well-made, an orange linen smock buckled by an oversized tan belt with the kind of wear that came from years of honest work.
“Newcomer, eh?” the man said, his voice a deep rumble. He gestured to an empty portion of table in the main hall. “Come, sit. You look like you’ve had a rough time of it. Name’s Beric, by the way.”
Seamus hesitated, glancing back toward the door, but Kara had already disappeared into the street. Taking a deep breath, he walked over to the table and sat down, his eyes scanning the room as he tried to take it all in.
“So,” Beric said, sliding a mug of steaming coffee toward Seamus. “Where you from? Been a while since we’ve had a new face in Hearthhaven.”
Seamus took the mug, his fingers tracing the cool metal of its handle. “I’m…not sure where I’m from,” he said after a moment, the words coming out more honestly than he intended. “Everything’s…different here and…whatever came before is a blur.”
Beric chuckled, a knowing smile on his face. “Aye, it is at first. But you’ll get used to it.” He leaned back in his creaking chair, taking a long drink from his own mug.
Seamus nodded and took a sip of the brew. It was rich and smooth, the warmth of it spreading through his chest, easing the tightness in his shoulders and filling him with renewed vigour.
Status Effect: Rejuvenation [from consuming Warming Brew]
The warmth of the guild hall seeped into his bones. Beric had welcomed him easily enough, and now the man sat across from him, his broad shoulders relaxed, a half-empty mug of this delicious beverage in his hand. The din of the hall was a hum of conversation, a steaming of brew, and the crackling of the fire in the hearth.
“So,” Beric said, leaning forward, his elbows resting on the table. “Thankfully for you, you’ve landed yourself in Hearthhaven. It’s a good place. Safe. People look out for one another here. You’ll be alright. But I’m sure you’ll have a great many questions.”
Seamus hesitated, unsure of where to start. His mind had been swirling with questions since the moment he had woken in this world, but none of them seemed to have clear formulations.
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Beric chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound. “First off, let’s start with the basics. You’re in the Guild Hall now—this is the center of trade, crafting, and, well, survival, around here. The guild’s what keeps the place running, Hearthhaven and its outposts.”
Seamus nodded slowly. “What kind of guild is it?”
Beric raised an eyebrow. “Not like the guilds you’re used to, I imagine. We’re not just merchants or blacksmiths here—though we have plenty in our ranks. The guild here is…more like a foundation. An alliance, if you will. Everyone who’s part of it plays a role—be it farming, crafting, hunting, gathering, or defending the town.”
He gestured broadly around the hall. “You’ll see folks from all walks of life here. Some are explorers—scavengers, to tell you the truth—bringing in materials from the deeper levels. Others are craftsmen, smiths, enchanters. Still more see to the well-oiled integration of the rest of us, linking the talents and experience of some to those whose needs could make the best use of them. We’ve all got a place.”
Seamus listened intently, trying to piece together what Beric was telling him. It sounded like the guild wasn’t just about one thing, one class—it was about keeping Hearthhaven functioning as a whole. The town wasn’t just a haven, somewhere to rest and recuperate; it was a hub of activity, a place where everyone contributed in some way and benefitted in others.
Beric leaned back in his chair, taking a long sip from his mug before continuing. “You’ll find that the deeper you go though, the harder it gets. The Hollows isn’t kind to those who venture unprepared. That’s why we’ve got the guild—so we can trade knowledge, materials, and skills to keep everyone equipped, make sure no one wanders off without understanding what they’re getting themselves in for. We survive by surviving together.”
Seamus’s mind raced. The Hollows. Now that Beric had named it that too, something about the word felt fitting. A vast, subterranean world stretching far beyond Hearthhaven—reaching out into unfathomable depths. He shuddered.
“What about the deeper levels?” Seamus asked, his voice low. “What’s down there?”
Beric’s expression darkened slightly. He set his mug down, the wood clunking softly against the table. “That depends on how far you go. The Hearthlands are dangerous enough after nightfall. And even a few levels down you’ll find creatures, traps, environments all designed to tempt and repel you in equal measure. Though there are human settlements at least, even reasonably far down I’m told. Civilisation, of a kind. But the deeper levels? Well, that’s where things become almost entirely…inhospitable.”
He paused, as if weighing his words carefully. “There’s talk—rumors, really—about what lies at the very bottom. But no one really knows for sure. Not here in Hearthhaven, at least, Not an awful lot of scholars pass through these days, not interested in our parochial existence, I suppose.” He chuckled. “But I’ll tell you this—there’s power down there. Old power. The kind you don’t mess with lightly.”
Seamus felt a shiver run down his spine, though he wasn’t sure if it was from Beric’s words or the realization of just how vast this world was.
Beric must have noticed his unease, because he leaned forward again, his tone more reassuring. “Look, you’re new here. No one’s expecting you to dive into the depths right away. Hearthhaven’s got plenty of work that needs doing right here on the surface. There are guild quests that will help you get your feet under you—easy enough to get you started gathering resources, crafting gear, making sure the town, and your inventory, stays stocked.”
Seamus nodded slowly, his thoughts still racing. Guild quests. Of course. This world clearly operated by some kind of system—some RPG-like framework that governed everything from exploration to crafting to commerce. He could feel it now, the subtle presence of the display thrumming in wait, almost like a companion watching from some interior perspective. It hadn’t given him any new prompts since the last encounter, but he knew it was there, waiting for him to consult it.
“So…quests?” Seamus asked, testing the word, seeing how it fit in this world.
Beric grinned. “Aye, quests. The guild keeps track of what needs doing around here—whether it’s hunting down a creature that’s been harassing the farmers, gathering rare herbs from the forest, or forging new gear for the sentinels. You take a quest, you complete it, you earn your share of coin, equipment and experience.”
It all made sense in a deeply, familiar way. The town, the guild, the system—it was all built to keep things running, to ensure everyone had an opportunity to play their part. And Seamus, whether he liked it or not, had become part of that system now.
“You’ll need to start small,” Beric said, his tone shifting to something more serious. “You’re not ready for the bigger jobs yet, but there’s plenty to learn here in Hearthhaven. Got a knack for anything in particular? No, don’t answer that.” He squinted slightly, as if studying Seamus more closely. “You’ve got the eyes of a crafter. I’ve seen the way you’ve been eyeing those beams.”
“Yes, I…” Seamus fought to remember, “I think I was some kind of crafter before I…got here”
Beric nodded encouragingly, “Well, that skill of yours, you’ll find it’s worth more than you might think around here.”
Seamus felt the meaning of Beric’s words settling in. Crafting hadn’t crossed his mind all that much during his fight for survival in the tunnels, but now, standing in the heart of Hearthhaven, the thought took on new meaning. The guild wasn’t just about quests or scavenging—it was about building something substantial and lasting. And that meant creating things. Contributing in that way suddenly felt like something just as important as any blade or bow.
Seamus glanced down at his knife. Though he’d need to level up in that department too, sooner or later.
New Quest: Learning the Ropes [Crafter]
Beric pushed back his chair and stood, motioning for Seamus to follow him. “Come on. I’ll show you the forge. If you’re going to stick around, you’ll need to learn how things work here.”
Seamus rose to his feet, his mind still buzzing with everything he had learned. As he followed Beric through the hall and out into the cool air, he had the feeling of having taken his first tentative steps into this new world. The Hollow was vast, dangerous, and full of mysteries, but here in Hearthhaven, he had found something solid—a purpose, and perhaps a way forward.