Troy grumbled to himself as he walked down the worn village path, the ground thankfully paved with wooden boards instead of sandy ground. “How the hell is it that I get swarmed by slugs all the way down the beach, but the second we’re close to town, they all vanish?” he grumbled, one hand coming up to his neck at the memory of slugs crawling up his back.
“They hide in sand, so it’s not a big surprise,” Alcydes commented as he passed Troy by, “Would you want them to hide all over, instead?”
Troy paused at the thought, the image of slugs crawling out of the buildings like they had appeared yesterday, then shuddered in disgust. “At least they don’t seem to be so active today,” he muttered, thankful they hadn’t ambushed him on the drive over, and sped up to follow Alcydes into town.
As the two walked through town, Troy glanced over and asked, “By the way, do you know how the whole ‘teaming’ process works, guild-wise?” All the elfkin gave was a shrug in response, and Troy sighed before he rubbed his chin in thought. Maybe they had a bulletin board he could post an ad on. Or maybe even a list he could go through? It’s not like they could access it from the internet, like back on Earth…
The sound of cheers made Troy snap out of that thought, and he glanced up to find the tavern already in front of him. As Alcydes walked over to check out a longsword some other adventurers were admiring, Troy hopped onto the curb and walked over to the counter. Seeing Yvalyn checking some papers over for an armor-clad adventurer, he slid past a group of dwarves to jump into her line. “Okay, I can help the next person in line,” she called out, but when she looked up, the elf perked up and said, “Oh, Troy! Did you finish the quest already?”
“Not exactly,” Troy admitted, one hand coming up to rub at the suction mark again, “After a good bit of hunting yesterday, I’m having trouble keeping the other beasts from swarming us So, I wanted to see if there’s a way I could place an ad to find more folks for my party.”
“Oh, a party request? That’s an easy thing to fix,” Yvalyn commented, then tapped on the crystal on the counter, “Do you intend on sticking to folks in town, or try to reach folks in nearby towns?”
“Honestly, a sign on a bulletin board would work great,” Troy said, and reached into his bag as he added, “I drew up a few designs, but-” He stopped when the thought finally hit him, and Max looked back at her in shock, “Wait, you can advertise to other towns? I couldn't even see one in miles!”
“Well, it isn’t a physical messenger between towns,” Yvalyn chimed, then placed a cardholder on top of the crystal, “Thanks to innovations over the past thirty years, the guild can communicate through the leylines with other guild centers. This helps us report announcements, such as emergencies and issues, and in this case specifically, let other guilds place up memos for up to a week for other adventurers searching for teammates. Just pay twenty rhodes for each day, and we’ll put a minor enchantment on your tag for you.”
Troy slowly nodded along to the description, then finally opened his Menu. “Okay, that sounds fair,” he commented, pulling handfuls of the coin out, “I’ll buy a charge for three days, then.” As he reached into the menu a fourth time though, an idea struck him, and he pulled out a larger bunch. “Actually, is there any chance there’s an ‘interview’ room, to meet with others quicker?”
Yvalyn paused at the question, then pointed over at an empty table placed alongside the wall. “If you want to pay twenty more, we can put up a signal letting folks know they can approach ya for partying,” she replied, then held a hand out to him and asked, “Now, if I could have your guild tag, please?”
Troy handed it over with the fourth handful of jhodes, and Yvalyn slid the tag through the cardholder. A yellow glow enveloped the tag for a few seconds, only to eventually fade. With the process over, Yvalyn handed the card back to Troy and said, “There you go. It’s all set now. Just keep in mind that a green glow is the best signal for matching levels. Red means they’re below your level, and blue is higher than yours.”
Troy nodded along to the statement, then walked over to the table. He barely sat down in the seat before he heard a low gong ring across the guild. Several heads snapped up at the sound, and Troy flinched at the sudden attention as folks turned to look over at him. With attention now focused on him, Troy sheepishly held his guild tag up, and several people began to approach.
The first to approach was a trio of elven men that stepped up to the table. Their gear was immaculate, with their armor woven around like it had literally grown over their bodies. Troy perked up at the immediate attention, and raised a hand in greeting. However, their demure expressions turned to sneers as his tag glowed a vivid blue. Without even a single word said, they turned around, and they immediately walked back to the guild counter.
“Really? If you’re that over-leveled, why even bother coming up to me?” Troy grumbled, then looked up at the lamp above him. As he rubbed at a visible smudge on his face, a low chuckle came from behind him.
“Aye, the Blonheim warriors always have their weapons up their arses,” a low, raspy voice commented, and Troy turned around to find a hardened man drinking from his mug. The man chugged down his drink, then looked at Troy with speculation. “So, yer looking for a party, huh? What’s yer rank?”
“Oh, just Charcoal-rank,” Troy commented, and held his tag up as he explained, “Honestly, it’s mainly because I need extra eyes with the monsters. They keep jumping me while my partner’s after another batch for the quest.”
“Ah, getting jumped? I can see why you’d need another set of eyes, then,” the man muttered, then glanced past Troy with a discerning gaze, “So, where’s your partner at? They getting more gear or something?”
“Oh, he’s just…” Troy’s voice died down when he turned around, and he glanced around for a bit before he pointed at Alcydes, “Just right there, checking out the longsword.”
The man squinted his eyes, then pointed at the person next to Alcydes, “You mean the oruk with the longbow? Seems like he’d be able to snipe them easily enough.”
“No, the kid next to him,” Troy corrected, then frowned in contemplation, “Honestly, he tends to wander about, but he has more experience than me, at least.” Come to think of it, how did Alcydes get all that training? He had been hunting by himself, but that kind of skill doesn’t come from self-training. Maybe he had traveled with a military division, a more experienced group, or even one of those training schools in the past…
“...Riiight,” the man drawled, then set his mug down, “Well, I hope you find a good party, but I think I need to get my crew together.” He stretched up, then pointed over Troy’s shoulder as he added, “However, I think you’ll be busy enough keeping those folks from conscripting you.”
Troy raised an eye at the comment, but as he turned around, he balked at the sight of several people pushing their way over to him. While their outfits were a medley of colors, they all shared the same base design: A heavy, form-fitting robe worn over chainmail. While the details varied between the five squabblers, their booklets and golden symbols were key features that made it clear why they were gunning for him.
“Dear god… Jehovah’s witnesses,” he whimpered, and slid back in dread. However, his pleas were shot down as a woman finally burst free from the group. Clad in deep blue robes that hugged her slim figure, she brushed the creases away before she gave a commercial-grade grin.
“Dunno who Jehovah is, but if you’re looking for people to join, how would you like to hear about the Goddess of Knowledge?” she chimed, and held up her booklet to show the symbol, “Through the goddess’s endless knowledge, she can help you find the answer to everything!”
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“As if!” an elderly, musclebound priest shot back, and held up his booklet high, “She may know much, but she has little power in the wilds like Lord Arion!” As the priest and nun bickered, more priests joining in to throw their gods’ strengths out, Troy gripped his pants under the table and bit back a silent scream of pain. This was going to suck…
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“-And with the sword’s scabbard sporting a self-sharpening and mana-powered repair feature, I never have to worry about any chips or dents in the edge,” an armor-clad, muscular man bragged, and spun it in the air. Alcydes watched with wide eyes as the air was audibly torn, and several adventurers clapped in appreciation while the man sheathed his weapon.
“That’s impressive, but how on Mugarde did you manage to get the sheath to work?” a bow-carrying oruk asked, his hand inching towards the blade.
Rather than let the oruk touch it though, the man sheepishly chuckled before he rehung his sheath over his shoulder. “Honestly, I don’t know how the sheath was made, but it’s a wonderful gift from the Stalhelm clan after I slew the ettin tormenting the area,” he dismissed, and threw his leather duster over his jacket, “Anyways, that’s enough talking for now. Have a good day, folks!”
With a cheery wave, the man stepped inside. Alcydes’s gaze followed the man, but soon pursed his lips as he spotted several parsons clustered around an unfortunate adventurer. It was only when he saw Troy trapped in the circle of clergyfolk that he let out a snicker. He wasn’t thrilled to see the man trapped like that, but like hell he was going to step into the crowd like that.
As Alcydes lingered outside, a dry cough suddenly made him stop next to the doorway. “Come on, gramps,” a feminine voice pleaded, “We’re nearly at the guild. Can’t you push it another block without a rest?”
“Sorry, dearie,” a raspy, withered voice wheezed out, “I’m not the spry adventurer I used to be. Gimme five minutes, then we can go in to find a party.” At the second voice, Alcydes turned around towards the sound. His gaze darted around the sidewalk, before he finally spotted a pair of dwarves sitting on a bench.
Clad in well-maintained leather, a bronze-haired female dwarf was patting an elderly dwarf on the back. While her armor was nondescript, the lack of rips and the complex crossbow suggested that she was likely a combat smith. In contrast, the elderly, gray-haired dwarf was bent over as he recovered. While his longbow was definitely well-cared for, there were visible stains on the breastplate. In fact, between the faint cracks on his shield and the armor’s worn leather straps, he’d be surprised if that was less than a decade old.
The elderly dwarf let out another series of rasping coughs, and Alcydes shook his head before he turned back to the door. As he put his hand on the frame though, a thought suddenly hit him. While Troy’s words were often more bland filler than actual advice, the fact that the elder had been an adventurer for that long…
After several seconds of thought, Alcydes finally stepped away from the door and walked over to the two. “Excuse me, but are you looking for a party?” he asked, causing both dwarves to look at him.
While the younger woman was wary of his intentions, the elder gave a final cough before he gave the elfkin a cheery nod. “Aye, we were,” he agreed, and glanced around before he tapped his bow on the ground, “I’m guessin’ you and yer family’s aimin’ to team up?”
Alcydes flushed at the comment, but simply turned away to gesture into the guild. “Well, I’m sure he’ll be happy to work something out,” he replied, “Especially when it gets him out of his current problem.” With that said, he entered the guild and walked over to Troy’s table.
In the minute he had looked away, the clergymen were quickly falling into a fight, pulling out their weapons and scriptures. Alcydes ducked under the raised arm of an oruk priest of Jananna, and reached up to tug Troy’s sleeve. “Troy, Troy,” he chimed in, earning a bleary-eyed look of distress from the man, “I found some dwarves who wanna party with us. Wanna talk to them outside?”
Troy slowly blinked for a second, but quickly brightened when he processed Alcydes’s words. “Sounds like a plan to me,” he happily agreed, and slid out of his seat. With two of the priests clashing their maces together, the two scrambled towards the door before a warhammer slammed into the floor like a meteor.
“What did I say about y’all starting church fights in the guild?!” the guildmaster bellowed as the guys sped out the door, “I don’t care about yer sects! If I hear another ‘passionate debate’, I’ll-!” His voice was cut off as something slammed into the floor, and Alcydes ducked out of sight before he let out a low sigh.
With the violence now gone, Alcydes looked up to the balking duo and gave an awkward nod. “Sorry about that, but the clergyfolk were rather… persistent,” he apologized, then pointed at Troy, “Anyways, I brought Troy. He can work things out for you.”
While the female dwarf looked through the guild’s windows in shock, the elder chuckled and stood up. “Aye, I’d lose my mind, too, if I had to deal with those squawking hens,” he grumbled, and cracked his back before he held a hand out to Troy, “Anyways, I’m Alonz, Alonz Renj. What’s yer name, lad?”
“Troy, Troy Ericsen,” the man greeted in return, and shook the dwarf’s hand. Troy looked at the two dwarves speculatively, then asked the elderdwarf, “Going off of your equipment, I’m guessing you and your partner specialize in archery?”
“Well, marksdwarfship in general, really,” Alonz corrected, then gave the crossbow a dirty look, “I’d hardly call that half-bow a proper tool for shootin’ arrows.”
“For the last time, gramps, it’s a gearspring arbalest,” the woman scoffed, and hoisted it up when Alonz snapped his wrist out to it, “It can shoot just as well as a longbow!”
“How can ye properly call that a ranged weapon, Efficere?” Alonz protested, and violently pointed at the end of the weapon, “You’ve got it trussed up in more wires than a lift system in the mines!”
The two glared at each other for a bit, then Alonz finally gave a scoff. “Fine, I’m getting a headache anyways,” he grumbled, then gave Troy a reproachful look, “While my grand-daughter is still new to this, she is at least a steady hand, and I served with the Acer Cask’s ninth division for fifteen years before I settled down. So, would you be willing to team up, and help my Efficere get some proper experience?”
With his thoughts hopeful from their skills, Alcydes looked up at Troy, the human scratching his chin in thought. “They at least seem talented,” he murmured, trying to keep from being overheard by the dwarven family, “Why not give them a shot? It at least gets us back to hunting, and away from the pestering.”
Troy visibly shuddered at the reminder, and quickly nodded along. “Sure, I’m down for that,” he agreed, and shook Alonz’s hand again. He glanced over at Efficere, then asked Alcydes, “Hey Al, could you get them to join the party? Then, we can get back to hunting again.” Alcydes visibly perked up at the request, and pulled his guild tag out. At least it was quick to find them all!
—
A creaking whoop of delight echoed in the air as Troy pulled to a stop, the ATV’s engine a low rumble on the beachside. “Dunno where you found this ride, but it’s a blessin’ on me old feet,” Alonz chimed as he hopped off the vehicle, “I’d be happy to keep this up if it keeps me from gettin’ worn out.”
As the elderly dwarf stretched about, Troy glanced back to spot Alcydes and Efficere running after them from the next dune over. With the other half of their party not too far away, he pulled his spear out and began to look around.
“Anyways, with it still being mid-quest, we’re mainly aiming for slimes,” he reminded the elderly dwarf, and leaned over the drift’s edge for a better look. After a moment of searching, he finally spotted a cluster of five slimes traveling down the shoreline below them. He just had to get in range…
Before he could jump down though, a calloused hand grabbed him by the shoulder. “Hold it, lad,” Alonz interrupted, “Looks like there’s a predator lurkin’ in the area. We’ll wanna take it out first.” Troy looked back in confusion, but followed the pointed finger out to the shallows. While it took him several seconds to look around, Troy eventually gasped when a car-sized swamp turtle trudged out of the water.
As it approached the slimes, Troy let out a sigh in disappointment. If he tried attacking a turtle that big, he’d have a better chance stabbing it through the mouth than piercing a turtle that old. While Troy was quick to holster his spear, he was surprised to see Alonz pull out his bow.
“Don’t worry, lad, I still got enough strength in me to take a beastie like that out,” he chimed and notched an arrow. With the declaration made, the old dwarf pulled his bowstring back and aimed at the turtle. However, the practice was done at a painfully slow rate, his arm moving at the same rate the turtle was. “Steady, steady,” Alonz muttered as his hand reached his chest.
When the turtle finally stopped to eat some dry seaweed, Alonz let out a sigh, muttered something under his breath, then let the arrow fly. Troy didn’t hear what was said, but the background sounds were deafened when the arrow struck like a mortar shell. The turtle instantly burst into giblets, shell shards and gristle flying all over the beachside, while a crater replaced where it stood.
Troy gawked at the impact point, and glanced back to find the old dwarf switching his bow out for a handaxe. “Come on, lad, we can’t let the bits go to rot that quickly!” Alonz chimed, and hobbled down the dune to the prone slimes. Troy’s gaze followed the dwarf in shock, but soon chuckled as he scrambled to follow him. Maybe this would be a lot easier with the extra help.