George stared down the hole for minutes before the old merchant spoke up.

“Want me to go in first to prove that it’s safe?”

George shook his head. He worried about what could happen if the merchant went first- if he were to fall on top his frail body. Depending on how deep it was, he could do serious damage to the poor man’s back. “I’ll go first, just give me one more second.” George breathed in and counted to three, and on three, he jumped, pressing his arms to his sides and legs together as tight as possible.

His feet hit a steep, inclined surface flooded with rushing water. It took all of his focus swing back in order to keep from falling face forward. Instead of that head-first tumble, he hit his butt, and slid, carried by the rushing water. The long, nerve-wracking slide plunged him into a clear pool.

Blue light shimmered in the cracks of the water above him. He swam up towards it and surfaced just in time to hear the old merchant wildly shrieking.

“Yeeeheeeheehee!” The high pitched sound swirled down the slide and its echoes followed just behind. A series of splashes collided with George as the merchant plopped off and quickly emerged. “Never gets old,” he said. “Been down that hole a whole bunch of times, and it’s still just as exhilarating. Welcome to Meriford, one of the great underground cities of man.”

George took a look at his surroundings: a dim room, with a smooth arched roof, and a bowl-shaped lamp casting an ambient glow. The room itself was small, confined further by the rectangular pool which took up more than half its space. It didn’t look much like a city yet, but there was a large passageway leading further down. At the sides of the pool stood a few people inflowing robes, pale enough to fit specters. A few of them seemed to be tending to the merchant’s belongings.

George climbed out from the little sloped ridges which provided a grip for him to pull up on. He wrung his shirt to try to dry it at least a little. Not even a day had passed, and he had already hopelessly soaked his new clothes.

Two of the white robed men drifted toward him, their feet hidden by their long cloth. Discomfort buzzed through George’s spine as they wafted their hands an inch behind his back.

“Those are the morning keepers,” the merchant said from the pool. “They’re the first line of defense should any prowler crawl down here, or if an invading force were to attack. But we haven’t had that type of conflict in a long, long time. And the prowlers don’t seem to want to follow us down here, so these guys mostly just work drying off who and whatever arrives.”

George’s shirt unstuck from his skin, and the cold film of water faded. Soon, the warmth that had been logged by the clear sun returned to his threads as if they had never been wet to begin with.

Once they had both been fully dried, the old merchant led George through the passageway onto a rigid stone bridge over a vast underground lake. Lantern bearing statues of hooded figures ushered them between two distinctive sides. On one end, they were shuttered by a great slick dam. On the other, the full expanse of the lake opened out. On that end, the shore seemed so much more natural, its curve visible from yellow lights near its bank, lights which at a distance didn’t look all that much different from a nighttime shore back home.

“How do we get over there?” George asked.

“We don’t. Unless you have lots of money. Speaking of, if you really did just come here from a different world, you’re gonna need someplace to stay, aren’t you? I don’t suppose you popped up here with any mysterious keys.”

George shook his head. He had checked the pockets in his new pants more times than he could count, but they were empty. Not even the mysterious phone came with him. Maybe the merchant could provide him place to live. “W-what’s your name, by the way? Mine’s George.” Might as well try to get a bit more personal before asking if he could mooch off of him.

“I’m Thomas, but you can just call me Tom.”

“I’m so sorry to ask you this, Tom, but I don’t suppose you have room for me to stay with you?”

Thomas gave a hearty chuckle. “I’m sorry, but after two kids, I don’t think there’s anything that could convince the wife to let someone else stay in our home.”

“Then where do I go? I don’t have any money?” His heart sank. He’d end up the streets- if he could even find them.

“If you’re looking to make a living, you may be interested in guild work.”

“Guild work? Where- what’s the guild?”

“The guild is what unites the underground. Remember how I said there hasn’t been a major conflict in quite a while? Used to be a lot of fighting amongst the underground cities. Troubled times those were, according to the stories at least. The guild stopped all that nonsense.”

“How can it do that? I mean, back in my world-” It still felt a bit awkward for him to refer to his world like that, as something separate. "There, the divisions seemed so difficult to overcome. So how was that able to happen here?”

“Simply put, the guild gets things done. The cities of man have flourished since its foundation. The prowlers never stray far from the surface, but that doesn’t mean the tunnels are perfectly safe. All kinds of nasty things lurk down here. And the guild helps take care of all the dangerous tasks.”

The bridge led to a tight chamber which split into two corridors- one on the left and one on the right. A large rock stood between them, with a map carved into it.

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Thomas saw George inspect the diagram and patted his shoulder. “That map’s older than me, boy. Don’t try to go off it. Come on now, just follow me.”

As if George could even hope to glean anything from the complex web of tunnels and chambers it depicted.

They went through the corridor on the right, which expanded into what could properly be called a street, with its harsh dug out walls cut by concrete structures. However, they wouldn’t stay in that street for long. In an almost mechanical manner, Thomas hurried George through to the end and out another path. The map may have been old, but it still got the point across. A labyrinth. Just five turns into different streets were enough to set in the feeling for George that the underground lake was the last truly open space he would ever see.

Finally, they entered a chamber with a large hexagonal building which towered to the cavern ceiling.

“Alright, here it is. Go on inside and get registered… and stay safe.” Tomas turned his back on George and hobbled off the way they came.

Left alone, and with nowhere else to go, George pushed open the bronze cast doors and entered a bright, white room with marble tiles and plaster columns.

It appeared that someone had entered in not long before him. An attendant at a black granite desk was speaking to a young woman.

“Now I understand you elven folk can be a bit withholden, but I’m afraid all missions must be completed with partners.” The high-pitched voice of the attendant at the desk rang like a toy bell.

The girl she was talking to fit the typical model of an elf to a tee. Long, nearly white hair, pointed ears, and as she turned to look at the person who had just entered, her face maybe even seemed to glow a bit- no, that face most certainly did not glow. If anything, it was shaded by annoyance, as she lightly bit on her lower lip, trying to keep her smile from turning to a scowl. She wore a brown corset, and a tan shirt enclosed by a small dark jacket. Bright embroidery decorated her skirt, curling out of a central stalk like an upside down canopy.

George’s eye caught a necklace which stood out from her Earthy attire. A gold chain suspended a red jewel with a peculiar shape- curved and pointed like a claw.

“Have you registered for the guild yet?” The attendant at the desk asked. George felt the elf girl’s frustration from every time he had to sign up for some superfluous app, but it did provide for him a nice launch point for him to inquire about getting started.

“Excuse me, is this where I can get registered?” he asked.

The door creaked open before the attendant could answer.

“Can I get registered for the guild here?” A soft voice asked the same question.

George shuddered, half-expecting to see behind him that the kid who stole his phone had somehow followed him there. But when he turned around, he saw a scrawny boy, skinny and frail with limbs like twigs. He wore glasses that seemed much too large for his face- though every part of his outfit seemed too big for him. His cape and hood were like blankets, his sleeves hung from his arms, and his pants swept the floor.

“Why, yes. This is where you can register for the guild. Come on up and give me your name why don’t you?”

The skinny kid brushed past George on his way to the counter, a push that registered about as hard as a light breeze.“Donald Swiftwind.”

The attendant scribbled the name on a list. “And yours?”

“Uhh… George- George Edrik.”

“Mhm.” She lifted her head and looked to the elf.

The elf girl sighed. “Lestra Amstal.”

“Great! Now how bout we set you all up as partners for your first mission. Here’s your stipends, you’ll be able to pick up the rest after the mission is finished.” She handed them each a sack of coins. I’ve talked things over with Lestra here quite a bit before you two came in. She can hammer out the details with y’all.”

The three new guild members took seats at a polished wood table tucked away in one of the corners of the white room.

George dreaded what discussion would ensue, knowing he would be completely lost in whatever they talked about. He had to make it clear that some additional explaining was necessary. “Sorry in advance, but from time to time, I may ask some strange questions about things that may be a bit obvious-” He stopped himself before saying he was from another world. They’d never believe him, and what kind of an impression would it leave if they did? He just wanted to fade in, like he always did whenever he had a group project. “I-I tripped and fell face first onto a rock. Yeah, I- head injury, can’t remember anything- yeah.” He started to mumble as if the quiet nonsense would fill in the details of his hastily crafted story.

“Really?” The elf tilted her head. “I don’t see any scars. Your forehead looks pretty clear, no bumps or scratches.”

George’s right eye twitched, and his mouth still hung slightly open from his last mumble. Sure, it was a lie, and admittedly not the best one, but what a weird thing to do. Who questions the guy that says he hit his head? He recalled what the lady at the desk said, about elves being withholden. Maybe it was because they all had bad manners. Though at least now because of the defensiveness she conjured, he didn’t feel quite as bad being an inconvenience. “Uhh I suppose it didn’t leave much of a mark.” He lowered his voice to try to sound tougher and soothe an irritated pride.

“Right…” her voice trailed off. “Let’s just get on with what’s relevant to the mission.”

“The lady at the desk said you’d explain things, so explain away I guess.”

She tapped a satchel at her waist. “In here is a box. And in that box is a very important relic to my people. Our task, which I very much would have liked to do alone, is to take it to the Vaaliyan niefdom- my home.”

“What’s a niefdom?”

Donald snickered. Apparently, George had just asked something very dumb. He never expected that kind of response from the scrawny boy, but by then he had already accepted himself as a hopeless judge of character.

Lestra sighed. “I suppose a niefdom is a bit like one of your cities. Except we aren’t so dependent on each other. And that also means we don’t have to bow before the same laws.”

Donald snickered again. “Like one of our cities you say? More like a Graldor tribe.”

“What’s a Graldor?” George regretted asking as soon as he saw how red Lestra had become after Donald’s snide remark.

“The third so-called high race- am I really going to have to explain everything to you over this trip!? And you-” She pointed at Donald. “Don’t you dare compare us to those savages. We are far more refined.” As if to prove herself, she held her head high and took a deep breath to calm herself. “Alright, where was I with the plan of action?”

“We’re taking some kind of box to the valley niefdom,” George answered to try to flex his attentiveness.

“It’s Vaaliyan not valley, and yeah, that’s pretty much it.” Lestra pulled out and unfurled a parchment map of caverns. “We’ll be taking supertunnel M-B1 into corridor 5-6, then-” She looked up at the blank stares of George and Donald. “I don’t suppose either of you need the exact routing to prepare.”

Donald shook his head, and George mimicked him.

“Alright, whole thing shouldn’t take more than a few days. You can meet me back here no later than the same time tomorrow once you’ve got all the supplies you need, and we’ll get going.”

There he had it. One day to figure out what he needed as well as to actually get everything- less since he had no idea how anyone took time underground, so it was best to be on the safe side with his estimates.