We drank our purple Lanelo juice, which was sweet and tart, and ate our deliciously spiced salty Rockcrabs, which made us order even more juice. Elwin, uncharacteristically, didn’t even complain that the drinks weren’t alcoholic.

Once we had finished our light meal and drinks we made our way to join the queue at the counter. In front of us was a line of about ten people. As we waited, the dark-skinned elf, who was at the front of the queue, briskly handed over a bundle of herbs and plants to a busy-looking clerk who then stamped a few official-looking papers.

Moments later, and with great clerical efficiency, a few silver and bronze coins were presented on a tray which the elf quickly picked up with dexterous fingers, placing them quickly into a small purse. Even hooded and cloaked I could see now more clearly that the lines of the elf’s body under the tough-scaled leather armor were of a more feminine persuasion.

She walked with an unconscious, yet confident, sway in her hips that challenged every man in the room as she exuded competence and deadliness in equal measure. The elf shot one last glance around the Guild and our eyes met for the merest fraction of a second as she exited the building through the thick iron-banded doors.

With time to burn and curiosity to be sated, I asked the man in front of me about the sight I had just seen. He was a distinctly average specimen of Asiatic persuasion, of medium height and girth, with a round homely face. Brown hair fell from a wide-brimmed kettle helm, and he was clad in a mixture of old scaled leather, coarse homespun linen, and patchwork chainmail. At his waist, though, was a deadly-looking unadorned bearded axe of dark wood and darker black iron of exceptional quality.

“Oh, her. She caught your eye too? She’s a famous one, that’s Lanarisa. We all just call her Lana which she hates,” grinned the boyish man. “Name’s Gan Garamgai. You can call me Gan if you like, that's what everyone else does anyways. Say, haven’t seen you around before, what's your name if you don’t mind me asking?” He stuck out his gauntleted hand in greeting.

I regretted my decision to ask the overly familiar man almost immediately and I looked at his gauntleted hand for a moment as if it was a snake. Something about him simply grated upon me. My goals depended upon me not standing out and causing a scene, so I swallowed my regret and remembered my manners. I held a special place in my heart for all the Children of the Tides, and Gan Garamgai, with his stupid name, was no exception.

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Gilgamesh of Uruk would have to play the friendly individual for a while, then perhaps sometime in the future, I could convert Gan into experience points. Somewhere in a hidden corner of my mind, a dark thing silently voiced its agreement as I reached to shake his armored hand and introduced myself. Something must have reminded the dolt of his own lack of manners, and he stopped himself before finally removing his own gauntlets.

“Name’s Gil, pleasure to meet you Gan,” I said with a smile that probably didn’t quite reach my eyes. “Are you a regular member of this guild?” I asked casually as I clasped the now unarmored hand.

“Oh, that I am, just a bronze, though,” he said, pointing to a small bronze badge on his chest depicting a crossed sword over a burning wooden torch. “Still, started way back when I was Copper. Dad couldn’t work the farm, so I had to step up.” His chest puffed up a little in pride.

I had to bite back a scathing reply suggesting he could have worked the farm instead but chose to be tactful and inquire, “And how, exactly, does one gain in rank?”

“Well, continue to do jobs and help out the guild and the Guildmaster will promote you, when he, like, sees you do real well. Remember Lana? She’s the only silver adventurer here, always takes on jobs by herself too, and almost always completes them. Doesn’t do much on speaking though,” he continued inanely.

The conversation continued to meander this way and that. Gan told us in annoyingly exquisite detail about the members of his extended family, going to great lengths to extoll the virtues of one of his younger sisters. According to his description, she was basically the goddess given flesh once more.

I was able to glean another useful nugget of information out of the country bumpkin, it seemed that the Guildmaster, a man called Darcen Tsend, had a means of telling if someone spoke the truth. It was probably one of the reasons he had ascended to his lofty position. Elwin tried to insert himself into the conversation, asking if Gan’s sister was in his words “A looker,” which just caused Gan to clam up, thankfully, until it was finally his turn at the counter.

Gan, finishing his business, offered to group up to do a few board jobs with us someday and then waved goodbye. Perhaps I would take him up on his offer, I mused.