The town of Tarbes was an ordinary sort of town: a town of crossroads. Two ancient trading paths had once crossed here, and naturally, a town had sprung forth to cater to the needs of travelers. There were no great works of culture or famous sights here—travelers didn’t have much time for such.
Instead, the local attractions were of a more down-to-earth sort. That one street food stall that sold meat skewers that were just a bit above average, which locals swore were the best in the region. A large, well-equipped inn that could always boast of having a new troupe of performers visiting, and always had a pot of stew ready for the weary traveler. Some swore that the same pot of stew had been ready to serve for over 200 years continuously, giving it that distinct taste. A market where extra baggage could be offloaded and traded, ready to keep things ever moving.
Of course, the golden age of such places was past—blimp shipping had changed things radically. It was a subtle change: An inn where visitors always had a room ready for them, a food stall that had no competitors, and a market that hungered more for sellers than buyers.
Still, it wasn’t the end of the world or anything. There was still plenty of overland traffic—blimps were new, expensive things, locked into tight schedules, guarded closely by the government. Not all travelers could make use of them.
Like a certain trio that was standing in front of the local hunter’s guild. The trio were rather weary of their journey on foot and were looking for better travel options. Trade caravans were suitable enough, but passage onboard them tended to be pricey, unless you had something to offer them that was. Being a hunter offered certain advantages—why pay for passage when you could be getting paid for it instead?
The guild was a typical one for crossroads like this—efficiency above all. A small wooden building, nestled betwixt an inn and the market, with only enough space for a single reception desk and notice board.
“So, have you memorised your lines?”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got it all down. [Saints] know we’ve spent enough time going over it all...”
“Even the skill?”
“...”
“You will use the skill, right?”
“Do I really have to? I just... don’t like smiling at people like that. It feels fake.”
“It is fake—it’s a skill! What use is a [Disarming Smile] if you don’t use it?”
“I have used it! Once, at least. That’s how I got the [Lor—”
“You’re a [Maid]! Aren’t [Maids] supposed to smile?”
“Of course, but I don’t use skills for it—the work itself provides joy enough.”
“Agh! You are impossible sometimes. Just do it!”
“Hey, you two done? We don't need a crowd.”
The third voice broke the moment, and the building argument was staved off.
Fayette huffed at Olivia, then rolled her eyes at Mireille.
“Relax you two, I’ve got this. Just follow me and stand there, I don’t know, all proper-like. I’ll even do the [Disarming Smile].”
The [Maid] ignored all further objections, turned to the door, and walked inside the guild. Mireille sighed and followed, while Olivia first took a sip from her trusty flask for good luck.
A bell by the door announced Fayette’s entry, and she took a moment to inspect the guild’s insides. Unadorned walls, clear tables, and a wooden floor with no rugs to get dirtied. Truthfully, she wasn’t the biggest fan of efficient design. It tended to lack the proper flair and decorum she liked to see.
However, it was undeniably more efficient for cleaning—less nooks and crannies for dirt to get into. Fayette frowned at that thought. If places are made easier to maintain, does that mean they need to hire fewer [Maids]? Troubling.
She made a mental note to look into the matter more later, shook her head, and continued inside, walking to the sharp-eyed [Receptionist]. The woman was dressed in a simple brown dress, and emanated the distinct aura of proper bureaucracy.
Fayette wondered whether that was a skill. Is there an [Aura of Bureaucracy]? I better be careful.
She drew herself to her best posture, used [Disarming Smile], and handed over her junior hunter’s permit and class license. “Hello, I would like to register as a proper hunter.”
The [Receptionist] accepted the permit, looked it over, then quirked a brow at the quite adult-looking woman. “A junior hunter’s licence, being upgraded at—” she took a look at the skill license and her frown deepened “—your age?”
Fayette used another [Disarming Smile]. It was really straining, keeping up a pleasant air and fighting her natural urge to scowl. “I didn’t have a fighter class when I received that, so the personnel at the guild made... special arrangements. That has now been rectified.”
“You’ve gotten a fighter class since?”
Fayette kept the smile on her face and nodded. “Correct—I am now a [Combat Maid].”
She felt the [Receptionist’s] use an [Inspect] skill and shuddered as the invasive wave went through her. The [Receptionist] was quiet for a moment, and Fayette leaned in. “A [Combat Maid] is a fighter class, right? It says it so on the name! No denying that.”
“I... suppose so. There is some precedent. [Maid Rogues], [Maid Bodyguards] and such, but I haven’t heard of one with the class and modifier this way around before.” The [Receptionist] dug out some files, and began flipping through them. “I’ll just fill in this form for you, take it up to get stamped, and then you should be able to get your new license.”
Fayette’s eyes widened. Is this actually happening? I expected a lot more resistance, last time was so annoying! Ok, no messing things up this time.
“Uhh, sure. Go ahead and do that then.”
Stolen novel; please report.
She took a step back and waited, and after penning a few more lines on paper, the [Receptionist] rose up from her seat and walked into the backroom. Fayette shuffled back to Mireille and Olivia who had been waiting behind her.
“Did you see that? Is [Disarming Smile] really that powerful?”
“I think it was more that you said the right things and had the right documents,” Mireille replied. “She didn’t need to ask many questions or consult many rules, so things went fast.”
“So, I didn’t need to use [Disarming Smile] after all?”
Olivia elbowed her. “Always use all tools that can increase your probability of success. You only get one first impression—best go all out, just in case at least.”
Fayette thought that made sense, she didn’t tend to spare any effort with her [Maid] duties after all. It was always good to bring out the [All Purpose Cleaner] right from the start.
The backroom’s door opened, and the receptionist returned to her seat. Fayette tried to focus herself again. Alright, now for step two.
She walked back to the desk, accepted a bronze token from the [Receptionist] and saw that her information was imprinted on it. “Thank you—Is everything set with that?”
“Yes, your hunter registration has now been completed.”
Fayette nodded, then gestured behind her, at her waiting companions. “Right. Then, I want to form a hunter party and have these two officially join it as support members. They are a [Doctor] and a [Seamstress]. I will vouch for them.”
At her gesture, Olivia and Mireille walked beside her, and negotiations went on. Once more, Fayette was surprised at how easily matters were handled. As Mireille took up the speaking, it felt like they were flying past all the bureaucratic steps at record pace.
Fayette took measure of the guild again. Is it because of how this place is built? An efficient building leads to efficient work? Or is it the other way around, a messy building tells of administrative failings? The Palogne guild did have a distinctly messy air...
Only at the finishing line did an obstacle finally appear. There was one last spot to be filled on their sheet. The receptionist tapped it with her quill, then nodded at Fayette.
“So, what should I mark as the name of your party?”
It took Fayette a moment to realize that the [Receptionist] was talking to her, and not Mireille. Oh, right. I suppose I am the party leader...
“Uhh—” She ran her mind, thinking through what her party really was about at its core. What are we setting out to do? What was our activity in Palogne all about? “How about: The Cleaners.”
The [Receptionist] noted the words down, and after that, all that was needed was another visit to the backroom. With how quickly the receptionist handled matters there, Fayette suspected the room only contained the rubber stamp needed for the papers and some contraption to make the bronze badges.
The woman came back almost right away, holding two bronze tokens in one hand, and a thin pamphlet in the other. She handed the tokens to Mireille and Olivia, then turned to Fayette. “As the leader of a new bronze-rank party, you’ll naturally have to be aware of your rights and limitations.”
Fayette flipped through quickly and felt despair when she saw that the pamphlets thin outside was a trap, as the text inside was tiny, allowing for an endless litany of rules and regulations. She tucked the pamphlet into her [Apron of Holding] and threw out one last [Disarming Smile], this time powered by all her despair.
“How important is it that I understand it all? I think we can handle ourselves well enough. Is there anything especially important in there that I should pay attention to?”
The [Receptionist] gave Fayette a knowing look, but a hint of a smile tugged at her lip. “Ah, that pamphlet is quite something, yes. Well, as a newbie team, the only thing you really need to know is whether to run towards an enemy or away from one. Do you have any insights on when to do either?”
Fayette activated the full power of her mind and desperately searched for any hints on such matters she could remember. I have to prove I know this stuff! Didn’t the [Lord] talk about adventurers and when to hire them at times? I think a few novels mention those things too…
“Well, I would be mostly acting on instinct I think, but I think I recall—” she began, forming her thoughts as she spoke. “—Elementals, monsters with distinct auras, and other monsters which visibly affect the environment around them are an indicator that hunters should step back, and [Mages] should be sent in.”
The [Receptionist] nodded, and Fayette continued. “In other matters, we’ll try to rely on more experienced hunters we meet, and trust in our instincts. Good enough?”
“About as good as we can expect,” The [Receptionist] replied, shrugging. “Can’t exactly be picky these days, monster attacks are on the rise. You seem better than most.”
Fayette felt herself relax and let out a deep breath. Mireille nudged her gently, still admiring her new token. The [Maid] focused. Right, now it’s time to see whether this was all for nothing.
“We are actually looking for work. Are there any caravan escort tasks, or something else of that nature, that would take us a fair distance to the east? North and south work too, everything except west really.”
As long as we get as far away from Palogne as possible. Hitching a ride on a caravan would be so much nicer...
The receptionist hummed for a moment, then took another look at Fayette’s crew. Her eyes narrowed. “You know, there is actually a task that fits your profile really well... We were getting worried that no one would be able to take it, but your group should do fine—”
She walked to the mission board and ripped one task right off it. Fayette flinched back. They’re even allowed to rip those off here! I got scolded for that back in Palogne.
The [Receptionist] handed the task to Fayette, and she looked it over.
Escort Task. High priority
[Governess] Adrienne requires an escort for her travel to Arreau. The caravan is leaving on the fifth, and the accepting party should have at least two women in it.
Hmm, so some woman needs an escort, and doesn’t want to only be around gruff hunter-type men for the whole journey. Fayette thought of spending a whole caravan trip with the type of people she had seen at the Palogne guild, all rough and dirty. She shuddered. Understandable.
She handed the missive to Mireille. “I think this looks promising, what about you?”
Mireille hummed as she read it. “Hmm, Arreau is a good distance to the east, and the pay is pretty good too. I say we take it. Olivia?”
The [Doctor] waved her off. “Sounds fine, don’t need any more pondering. Can we go?”
Fayette took the missive back and looked at the contact details listed at the bottom of the page. Unsurprisingly, it listed a room at the only inn in town. “Olivia’s right, no sense waiting around. Let’s go.”
They began to leave, but Mireille paused just a moment, to poke Fayette on the cheek. “By the way... did you really have to pick such a name for our party? It makes it sound like I’m some sort of [Maid] too.”
“Well, maybe you’ll get lucky and get offered a [Maid] specialization or something. No harm in it.”
Fayette escaped from the room before the [Seamstress] could get any more words in.
She needs to focus, we have a task ahead of us, no time to debate names and such. Escort a [Governess]. Sounds simple enough. What could possibly go wrong?
---
After a quick walk to the building right beside and a walk up the inn's stairs, the newly branded Cleaners were knocking at a door on the third floor of the inn. They had been a bit surprised to find that their employer had booked the inn’s luxurious grand suite. Mireille had grown excited. Expensive tastes, huh. Explains the pay.
They knocked, and they waited. Silence. The trio waited a minute, then Fayette knocked again. This time she could hear a flurry of activity from beyond the door, and after a good period of stumbling and rushing from inside, the door finally opened, revealing a woman.
All three members of the cleaners felt their eyes narrowing at what they saw.
Mireille saw the clothes the woman was wearing—a fine long-sleeved dress embroidered with lilies at the helm, a garment much too fine for any [Governess] to wear. A bit wrinkled from lack of care, but the quality could not be hidden that easy.
Olivia saw pale skin that shone with unnatural health, and hands that showed no marks of work—hands of one who had others do all menial work for them.
And Fayette, well, she didn’t even need her eyes to see. As she felt the woman’s clear blue eyes focus on her and saw her long blond curls twirl as she turned her head, Fayette shuddered. She could have felt it with her eyes closed, deep inside her class. The same sort of feeling she had felt there before—that bit of her that was missing something.
The trio turned to each other, an instant understanding passing between them.
This was no [Governess].
This was a [Lady].