The city of Daena was the place where I parted with Laevarian and the first city I encountered within the Patchwork System. In many ways, my time in the city served to make me a denizen of the System, rather than a former Earthling.
Daena is, by the standards of the System’s world, a backwater. Before the Sublimation of Earth, there were few good resource or grinding zones for adventurers to build up their wealth and levels, and it was only the bounty of the forest and the loose import and export laws of the city that attracted outsiders to it.
Moreover, the area around Daena was just dangerous enough that merchants had to have a full force of guards to maintain their security when passing through, costing them coin and making trips to the city costly for ‘clean’ merchant families. This made the city a place where theft, murder, and ‘predators’ were unusually common, even by System standards.
On that first day, though, I saw none of this. The market of Daena is one of the brightest and liveliest places I have seen until this day, and I can honestly say the very lack of sophistication compared to other cities was actually its biggest attraction, though that might be nostalgia talking.
I did not know until later, but my first week in the city was very similar to the early quests of an adventurer in the VRMMOs that dominated the gaming scene on Earth, and I have been told by reliable sources that this was intentional on the System’s part. Worlds set to be Sublimated are all prepared for what is to come at least a century in advance, and Earth was no exception. It is a mark of how necessary this preparation was that even with it, more than seven out of ten Earthlings living at the time of the Sublimation died on the first day, with only one in five surviving the first month.
I was the first person from the local ‘patches’ to reach Daena by several weeks, so I had time to establish myself before realization of what had happened came to most of the denizens of the city, but the other Earthlings weren’t so lucky. Laevarian’s warnings were spot on the nose, and it is only because of him that I managed to survive that first year.
_________________________________________________________________________
It took the entire morning and most of the afternoon to reach the city proper from the outer wall, and the wagons were out of sight by the time they reached the open gates. There were guards present, but they were idle, eyeing those entering and looking at checklists without any confrontation or speech.
The stone of the walls had a slightly silvery sheen, caused by pulsing veins of some kind of odd metal present in the rock. There were no obvious enchantments, but Lyam was sure there had to be some, even if he couldn’t see them. The gates were made of iron-bound wood, and he could see a metal portcullis withdrawn into the stone above as he passed through.
Inside, the construction seemed to a mix of dozens of different styles, ranging from European-style stone or brick with thatch or slate roofs to adobe and even a few made out of various metals. There was no signs of any sort of open sewer system, and it lacked the stench that Lyam had expected of a technologically-lacking city.
He saw metal lattice grates at several points as they traveled the streets, meaning they actually had some kind of sewer system. He was mildly curious about where the waste went, since he hadn’t seen any obvious rivers or lakes in the area.
The streets themselves were smoothly paved with stone that appeared to have been melted into place. It had an almost glassy shine to it in places, and he could feel mana infusing it. If he had to guess based on his limited knowledge, it was probably some kind of structural reinforcement.
The populace seemed to be primarily Felinor and elves of various types. Occasionally he could see large lizardmen and goblinoids, and he even saw a party of a half-dozen beings he could only describe as angels, since he was refraining from using his True Sight to see more.
“So where are we headed?” Lyam asked curiously.
“To get you registered at the Adventurers’ Association. Without some kind of backing, no matter how limited, it is difficult to dwell in this city for even a short time. You have at least three hundred System Credits, don’t you?”
Lyam checked his inventory quickly, When did that happen?
“Yes, I have enough,” He replied evasively.
“Good. I really do not wish to have to give you a loan,” The elf said with a faint smile.
When did I earn fifteen-thousand System Credits? He wondered. He knew he had gained some from skill tiers and quest rewards, but he should not have had so many.
“Just how much can System Credits buy?” He asked, wanting an idea of what they were worth.
“One will buy you a loaf of bread, ten a night at a cheap inn, thirty a night at a decent inn. If you want to rent a place, a cheap home will cost you fifty a week, a decent quality one around one hundred,” He rattled off.
He also appeared to have several dozen Warg pelts in his inventory, but he didn’t recall looting any of the Wargs back in the Raid Zone.
“Are Warg pelts valuable?” He asked.
“Moderately so. They will usually go for about ninety credits each, since they make great winter cloaks,” Laevarian replied absently.
“I have… forty-nine of them in my inventory,” Lyam said after a moment.
Laevarian’s eyes widened and a sly smile curved his lips, “If I negotiate a good price, can I get a commission?”
“Ten percent?” Lyam said hesitantly.
“Twenty,” The elf snapped out immediately.
“Twelve,” Lyam haggled.
“Eighteen,” Laevarian shot back firmly.
“Thirteen.”
“Seventeen.”
“How about we just settle it at fifteen percent?” Lyam said, feeling a bit defeated.
Laevarian chuckled and they shook hands. They changed course and headed to the south along a different street. Around thirty minutes later, they came to a bustling open-air market with hundreds of stalls, selling everything from food to ironware.
Lyam shook his head in wonder. While he’d seen similar sights in the Middle East, there was always an edge of suspicion and even hatred when a white guy walked into a marketplace full of Arabic men and women.
Here, people merely noted his appearance then went back to what they were doing, without any real reaction. It was apparent that the people of Daena’s marketplace were accustomed to unusual races and sights.
Laevarian seemed to come alive as he pulled Lyam into the crowds, eyeing the stalls, occasionally stopping to negotiate with one or another of the stall-keepers, buying, selling, and trading what looked to be small, valuable items, occasionally touching what looked to be a disc made out of copper set into a post next to each stall.
Lyam guessed correctly that those somehow allowed the transference of System Credits for sales, and Laevarian confirmed this during a brief break period between his frantic exchanges with the various merchants. One thing he did notice was that Laevarian got happier the longer he was making the exchanges, and he had to wonder how much profit the elf was making to cause him to look so happy.
Lyam wasn’t suited to this particular environment. In his life on Earth, he had made all transactions other than weapons through the internet, using cryptocurrency. Haggling he could do, as he had needed to learn the skill for cover in the past, and when you were dealing with black market weapons-dealers, haggling was inevitable if you didn’t want to be cheated. However, this kind of series of whirlwind negotiations was alien to his experience.
Both the merchants and Laevarian were obviously enjoying the game, and several times, Laevarian stopped to chat with people he seemed to be familiar with before moving on to the next. After almost an hour, they came to stop in front of a shop that gave off a rather… ripe smell.
“Caluz! Are you there?!” Laevarian yelled into the strangely cavernous shop in the middle of the marketplace. Unlike the other stalls and shops, it was not made entirely of canvas held up by polls or a wooden table with a canvas shade. Instead, it was as if someone had constructed a large rickety wooden workshop in the middle of the more temporary structures.
“Who the fook asks?!” A roar came from within the darkened interior.
“It is your ‘dumbass Wood Elf Apprentice!’” Laevarian replied to the voice cheerily.
“Laevarian?!” Suddenly, a gigantic hairy wolf-man emerged from the darkness and pulled the elf off his feet and into a bear hug, “It has been too long, you moron!”
“I see you are still about as clever as a zombie with a cracked skull!” The elf insulted him with a grin.
“And you still look like summun took a ‘uman and wrung him out like a towel before puttin’ ‘im out to dry,” The wolf-man replied with a toothy grin of his own.
They both seemed to be enjoying the exchange immensely, though it was just a series of insults. It wasn’t the type of relationship Lyam had ever had, and he had to wonder how the elf had managed to make friends out of such a creature.
“So who is this guy? Some kind of new elven pet?” Caluz asked curiously when he noticed Lyam’s presence.
“Ah, that is Lyam. I… met him after my village was destroyed a few weeks ago,” Laevarian replied, his eyes shadowed with sorrow briefly before he recovered.
“The village was destroyed? Ah boyo…” The wolf-man’s humor suddenly vanished, and this time he embraced Laevarian more gently, tears of sympathy falling from his eyes.
I think I like this wolf-man, Lyam thought as he observed the exchange. Caluz seemed to be a good… man? Wolf? It was rude to use an examine skill, so he would have to wait until he could ask him himself.
Laevarian gave the elf a twisted smile and patted his shoulder, “It is in the past. There is nothing that can be done, and there is no one to blame but the Elders… who cannot answer for their foolishness.”
“How?” The wolf-man demanded.
“Tree Drakes. A Sublimation Zone caused their migration to move off course and through the village,” He said calmly, without emotion.
Caluz winced visibly, “Agh, ‘tis a bad way to go, that. Gave ‘em de last rites, did ye?”
Laevarian nodded sadly, “Yes. This one helped.”
The wolf-man eyed Lyam for a moment before nodding slowly, “’tis a good thing you did, laddy. No one aught to have to do de last rights alone.”
Suddenly, the wolf-man hugged Lyam fiercely, gratitude practically oozing from every hair follicle (and he was hairy indeed). Lyam was getting the definite sense that the musky-scented wolf-man was somewhat easily moved to emotion. He didn’t know how to deal with it, but he chose not to resist Caluz’s affection.
“If you had not guessed, Caluz is an old friend. I am afraid he is somewhat… overly emotional at times,” Laevarian said with a mischievous grin that was only faintly tinged with sadness as he watched Lyam being hugged fiercely.
“Indeed, I think I understand what kind of person he is,” Lyam replied, a wry smile twisting his lips. He had a feeling Laevarian was enjoying this far too much, but, considering the debt he owed the Wood Elf, he didn’t feel any offense. A few jokes at Lyam’s expense were a small price to pay for his help.
The wolf-man was apparently so caught up in his own emotions he couldn’t hear them talking past him, as his hug… rapidly increased in strength. Lyam felt his bones creak as the arms tightened around him.
“Laevarian.”
“Yes?”
“I think it is time to get him off me,” Lyam stated.
“Why?” Laevarian asked, obviously on the verge of laughing out loud.
“Because he just dislocated my shoulders,” Lyam said calmly. The pain was less intense than it should have been, but he would never mistake that particular sensation for anything else.
“Ah, yes. I forgot. He does that sometimes,” The elf said casually, apparently having no intention of saving him.
“What? Pops people’s shoulders out of their sockets while hugging them?” Lyam asked.
“Yes. Do not worry, Lyam. I am certain he will apologize when you wake up,” Laevarian’s grin widened as Lyam felt his ability to breathe restricted by the increasing pressure of Caluz’s arms around him.
With a sigh, having decided that Laevarian really was going to wait until he fell unconscious before stopping the wolf-man, he used psychokinesis to open Caluz’s arms (briefly), allowing himself to slip through. He then used it to force his shoulders back into place, wincing slightly as they popped back into place. He then shot himself several feet backward, out of the man’s reach.
That used 1000 MP?! He thought incredulously. Just how high a strength stat did Caluz have, anyway?
Laevarian looked disappointed and Caluz confused. Lyam decided to put aside Laevarian’s mischief for later and turned to the wolf-man, “I am sorry, but you were crushing me.”
The wolf-man’s golden eyes went wide and he quickly apologize, “Agh! ‘Am sorry laddy. ‘tis hard to remember I ha’ 200 strength atimes.”
200?! Well, that explains a lot… Lyam thought.
“Ah, Caluz. My apologies, but we did have business beyond bringing you some news,” Laevarian cut in before Lyam could think of a reply beyond a simply waving the incident off.
“Ye ‘ave furs?” Caluz asked, his furred face turning businesslike.
“Yes, Lyam has forty-nine Warg furs, most likely random loot from previous battles,” Laevarian explained.
“Agh, boyo, ‘tis a bit much for me to buy at once,” The wolf-man said, a sly look in his eyes. The haggling lasted for almost half an hour, as Laevarian and Caluz went back and forth with various dramatics, with Laevarian playing up Lyam’s non-existent heroics and Caluz bemoaning his pathetic financial straits in his… unique speech patterns.
To Lyam’s surprise, the payment they settled on wasn’t in System Credits. Instead, Caluz handed over a black leather tunic with silver trim and a matching pair of trousers and boots, along with an armored jacket buttoned at the front with steel buttons. In addition, he handed Laevarian five scrolls and a curved sword a full nine inches longer than the one Laevarian had sheathed on his hip, along with a single bronze key.
At some point during the conversation, Lyam had tuned them out, idly scanning his notifications from the last month to try to figure out the specifics of how his current HP and MP had come to be, with no real luck. When Laevarian dropped the objects into his arms, he was startled back to the present and his eyes refocused on the elf.
“What? Are you done?” Lyam asked, his eyes widening, the effect merely making them look even more like an endless abyssal void to the elf.
Laevarian winced internally, but he chose to tell Lyam about the trade, “The furs you brought are all high-quality and heavily infused with new mana from the Sublimation. They were worth too much for Caluz to pay using the System Credits in his inventory, so he traded us supplies… and a month-long lease on an apartment Caluz owns on the second tier of the city. The scrolls are skill and spell scrolls he thought would be useful based on my assessment of your current build.”
“The clothing?” Lyam queried.
“Your current armor is not effective enough for the local fauna, so I asked for his best set currently available.”
“I...see,” He really didn’t, but then, he hadn’t had any opportunity to put his armor to use so far.
On a whim, he tried using True Sight to examine the new armor set.
Black Wolf Tunic
Quality: Rare
Material: Shadow Drake Leather
Description: A tunic made by a master leatherworker out of Shade Drake Leather, it shares the drake’s moderate resistance to physical blows, fire, and chaos-aligned magic.
Black Wolf Jacket
Quality: Epic
Material: Shadow Drake Matriarch Leather
Enchantment: One with Darkness
Charges: 50/50
Description: A leather jacket created from leather made from skin cut from the back of a Shadow Drake Matriarch. It has high resistances to physical blows, fire, and chaos-aligned magic. It has been enchanted with ‘One with Darkness’, an Arcane Assassin Class ability that allows the user to become invisible in low light conditions for up to five minutes per charge. Charges may be refilled using soul stones or magic crystals.
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Black Wolf Trousers
Quality: Rare
Material: Shadow Drake Leather
Description- A leather tunic created by a master leatherworker from Shadow Drake Skin. It shares the drake’s moderate resistance to physical blows, fire, and chaos-aligned magic.
Black Wolf Boots
Quality: Epic
Material: Shadow Drake Matriarch Leather
Enchantment: Shadow Step
Charges: 20/20
Description- A pair of boots created from leather taken from the legs of a Shadow Drake Matriarch. Their inherently high resistance to physical blows, fire, and chaos-aligned magic has been retained. The enchantment placed on them allows the user to use the Arcane Assassin ability Shadow Step, which allows the user to move from shadow to shadow instantaneously, once for every charge. Charges may be refilled using soul stones or magic crystals.
“This is a bit much, don’t you think?” Lyam said worriedly.
“No, those furs you handed over can be made into ice-resistant armored cloaks and fur armor, and the Iceland Dungeon to the west has a lot of ice monsters. The local adventurers will pay through the nose for them,” Laevarian explained.
He continued, “Now take a look at the scrolls… but do not use them now. We need to head to the Association before dark.”
Lyam obeyed and looked through them.
Light manipulation (Utility Spell)
Scent Dispersion (General Skill)
Crush (Force/Gravity Spell)
Danger Sense (Passive Skill)
Trap Detection (Passive Skill)
“Except for Crush, they are all basic skills or spells all adventurers pick up if they can. Just about every merchant that caters to adventurers has multiple copies of the others on hand at all times, due to their usefulness,” Laevarian explained.
“And Crush?” He asked curiously.
“It is an Apprentice-ranked Gravity or Force magic spell designed to allow the user to put intense pressure onto a specific area. If you have enough Willpower and focus hard enough, it is possible to pulverize flesh and bone or even metal armor, though it takes more time to master than Psychokinesis, from what I have been told,” Laevarian explained.
“It can be either?”
“Some spells are like that. If you have access to Infernal magic, you can use Fire Manipulation to manipulate Hellfire, for instance. Force magic is essentially the first-tier school most closely related to Gravity magic, which is further related to the third-tier school, Spatial Magic. Fire branches off into Thermal and Infernal respectively at second-tier, as an example,” He explained.
“Is ‘e from de Sublimation?” Caluz asked in low tones.
Laevarian nodded slightly, causing the wolf-man to give Lyam a pitying look, “Good luck, laddy. If ye need help, just be callin’ me.”
“Caluz, we need to head to the Association before I drop him off at that apartment. Should I come see you tomorrow before I head out?” Laevarian inquired.
“Yeah, jus’ come in before I open de place,” The wolf-man nodded, confirming.
Laevarian led Lyam out of the marketplace, Lyam waving farewell as the elf practically dragged him off his feet, He’s a lot stronger than his frame would indicate. Hurrah for a moderate strength stat?
“You are heading out tomorrow?” Lyam asked in a low voice once they were away from the crowds, heading up the hill toward the next wall.
“Yes. I intend to head north toward Isnaviel and resume my studies in the Adventurers College’s Magic Department. I will need to take some time to master my new class magic, and I also need to find a new party that ‘fits.’” He replied.
“I will go ahead and wish you well in advance,” Lyam said, smiling gently. He felt a bit lonely inside, but he had known that Laevarian wasn’t going to stick around.
“Remember what I said. You will need to find some sort of community of others from your Sublimation to at least make connections. Few in this world are like Caluz, open with their emotions and generous to a fault with those they see to have value. Most will ruthlessly use you and your ignorance for their own gain,” He warned.
“Is that why you went out of your way to introduce us?” He asked.
“Yes. Caluz is trustworthy and honorable, and for a new adventurer, he is the ideal place to drop off excess loot from animal-type monsters. He is also an excellent leatherworker and a skilled enchanter, so going to him for your needs while you are in Daena will probably save you money and trouble,” Laevarian explained.
“What do you suggest I do until I find someone else like me?” Lyam asked, truly at a loss. In truth, now that he was at something resembling civilization, he had no idea of what he wanted to do.
“My suggestion would be to take on some of the requests at the Association’s Quest Board that do not involve leaving the city until you at least reach Journeyman in your magic and get Long Blades to Apprentice,” He said, handing over the longer sheathed blade. At Laevarian’s suggestion, he tossed the short sword into his inventory and willed the longer one to attach itself to his belt.
“Why switch me to a longer sword?”
“Short blades are enough for dealing with humanoids in most cases, but for monsters, you need something with better reach. I would also suggest you pick up and learn the use of a blunt weapon and the spear or ax at some point if you intend to fight in close rather than bombarding enemies with magic,” The elf replied.
“I’ve never actually used a sword, though…” Lyam said, thinking as he walked.
“That style you have on your status is a Felinor sword style, one of the more common ones. It works with any sort of sword, dagger, or swordstaff. Since there is no possibility you learned it from a Felinor, I have to presume you got it as a quest reward, so it will be complete. As you master various weapons, the higher ranks of the weapon style will open to you. The reason I chose the curved sword is because the style is a ‘flow’ style, emphasizing fluid movements that do not waste energy, avoiding deep cuts and thrusts unless going for a mortal blow. That short sword you have can be used with the style. However, it is not the best choice,” The elf explained.
Lyam thought about it. In truth, he was most skilled with long knives, garrotes, and crossbows, with firearms coming a close fourth. Weapons that were difficult to conceal were well outside his specialty on Earth, though he could sense he would know what to do when he drew the sword. He thought it was likely it would take some time until he could gauge distance during combat accurately with a sword.
Still, he had a feeling that choking out a dragon with a garrote wasn’t possible, and his other usual weapons wouldn’t do much better. He would take the Wood Elf’s advice and learn the sword while doing jobs for the Association.
“I also suggest you learn your Class. Curses are powerful, and the stealth abilities you have will make you dangerous even to those of higher level. I do think your class will be difficult to master, though. Your idea of primarily relying on blood curse tattoos and other pre-made curses is not a bad one, but you should consider buying knowledge scrolls on a wider variety of potential curses, even if it means you have to spend a decade or two in seclusion ridding yourself of karma later,” He warned.
Lyam considered this advice. However, there was one point that bothered him, “Don’t you think ten years is a bit much for a single curse?”
“Lyam, even the weakest of Tier 2 sapient races live for hundreds of years, and I seriously doubt that your race is a weak one. Ten years is nothing in the life of a long-lived species,” Laevarian scolded him gently. This was the reason why he had included that particular example in his suggestion. Lyam’s sense of the passage of time was in tune with that of a short-lived race. Even if he never managed a racial evolution by reaching Level 50, it could be said conservatively that he would live a thousand years or more, barring incident or accident.
As such, Laevarian knew that Lyam would eventually need to change how he viewed the passage of time. Clinging to a human point of view on such things would result in madness if he wasn’t careful.
Freedom… Laevarian thought with a mixture of sadness and joy as he considered his future. He had his freedom, but it had cost him so much.
He shook his head slightly, driving away those thoughts. There would be plenty of time to meditate on his life after he reached the Adventurers College. For now, he decided to concentrate on getting Lyam settled in.
The Adventurers Association was placed in the second tier of Daena’s city proper, behind the second wall. The difference between the tiers was somewhat obvious. Where the first tier was a mix of dozens of styles of construction and materials, almost all construction in the second tier was of the same gray stone, with faintly-glowing runes Laevarian said enhanced structural stability inscribed around the foundation and corners.
The greater majority of the construction was apartments, seven-story stone apartment buildings with literally hundreds of apartments to each block. Lyam supposed that climbing the stairs to the seventh floor was a lot less trouble for people with high endurance and constitution; after considering why anyone would be insane enough to build apartments that high up without an elevator.
The Adventurers Association turned out to be a complex about the size of a major state university on Earth, with over a dozen forty-story towers standing at various points inside the walls, as well as numerous other facilities and even what looked to be a thickly-wooded park area. People, most of them armed and armored to some extent, were constantly going in and out of the open gates, and four bored-looking men in full plate, as well as two women in armored robes with staffs in hand, were standing guard, their eyes tracing idly over the crowd, looking for potential problems.
“At any given time, there are at least five thousand adventurers in the city, at least two-thirds of which stay here when they are between missions. I would venture to guess that one in five of those is someone about your level with a more common specialization or even a base class. Adventurer ranks are based on the number of missions completed, rate of success, and difficulty of the missions involved. Since the System ranks the missions for them, as well as success or failure, it is an efficient system,” Laevarian lectured as they walked through the gates.
“The adventurer ranks begin with lead, moving up to tin, copper, bronze, iron, steel, silver, gold, mithril, orichalcum, and diamond. In a city like this, only the Guildmaster will be above mithril, with most adventurers never getting any higher than bronze before retirement. There might be one or two orichalcum adventurers in the entire region and one diamond ‘crowned’ every two centuries or so on this continent. The achievements necessary to reach the highest rank are so ridiculous that even the most idealistic generally aim to reach mithril and no further,” He finished.
“So it really is a meritocracy?” Lyam asked skeptically. In his experience, nepotism and favoritism tended to determine who reached the highest points of any given organization.
“To an extent, it is. Of course, if a mithril-tier adventurer is on bad terms with the local authorities, he will not be given control of the Association branch, even if he is the only one available, and I have heard of silver or gold adventurers being put in control if the higher-ranked adventurers either do not wish to lead or do not have the ability,” He answered.
Trees lined the stone-paved road leading to the main hall, a three-story marble building, glowing with constantly-shifting lines of azure runes, some of which Lyam could almost recognize from his book on duergar runes. Stone benches sat on the grass under the trees, and many of those were occupied by mages (obvious due to their robes) or healers, many of them reading from thick tomes or examining prismatic crystals he couldn’t identify.
“Bars, brothels, parks, and libraries. You will find all three in any given Association branch, because adventurers love to drink and have sex, and where mages and healers go, so do the books and places to relax,” He explained in reaction to Lyam’s questioning glance.
“So… it is a city within a city?” Lyam asked thoughtfully.
“Yes. It does not happen often, but in the past, local authorities have tried to cut off the Association or confiscate their resources, so Association branches are always fortified and contain anything adventurers need or want, though the prices can be somewhat high at times,” The elf replied, looking amused.
The front doors of the main hall were open, and a bustling crowd of people, most of them armored and armed to one extent or another, moved back and forth from the desks at the rear of the lobby and the walls. The long walls to the left and right, had dozens of panels set into their surface that seemed to shift in response to swiping touches similar to a smartphone back on Earth.
And I thought I’d never have to see someone staring moronically at a glowing screen again, Lyam thought with a weary expression on his face. He had always preferred a desktop or a laptop with a proper keyboard and mouse. Touchscreens drove him crazy.
Laevarian grasped his wrist and pulled him along, the bemused Saevere raging internally at the unfairness of being unable to escape the horrors of touchscreens. He just hoped he wouldn’t have to deal with VR pods… VR pods made him nauseous.
The reception desk they approached only had a short line, mostly made up of young people in either brand new or very old (obviously heirloom) armor. At a glance, Lyam could sense they were approximately the same level he was, and he gave Laevarian a questioning look before gesturing at them with his narrow chin.
“The lowest level one can join the Association at is 10. Almost all aspiring adventurers join the second they hit that level. The reason… is fairly simple. Anyone below that level is too likely to die, even on a basic quest,” Laevarian answered his unspoken question with a shrug. He then released Lyam and told him to register by himself.
The elf walked in the direction of a stairwell leading to the second floor. Lyam didn’t know what business he had up there, but he supposed it only made sense that he had to register by himself.
As he waited in line, he noticed that each newbie adventurer went into a room in the back after filling out and/or handing over their paperwork. He couldn’t see inside, as the door seemed to automatically close after each one entered, but as far as he could tell, no one had yet come out after going in.
Most of the newcomers, like him, had a sword at their side, even if they were holding another weapon. Most of the swords seemed to be simple straight-edge weapons, unlike his own curved blade. The ones that had some other kind of weapon were usually using an ax or a spear, with the latter usually accompanied by a shield of some sort.
The armor was almost universally leather, with studs or very small plates sewn over them for extra protection. There were a few mages in robes, but even these robes seemed to have some kind of armor built in, such as a bit of chain mail over vital points or hardened leather over the chest and back. In addition to their bladed weapons, most of the mages also carried a staff or a rod, mostly of iron or plain wood, though a few were decorated with designs or a few cheap crystals.
Some of the newbie adventurers were excited, others nervous, and a few showed no signs of their emotions. The latter-most were the ones all seemed to be wearing leather-only armor that seemed to be designed for stealth (cloth underneath, padded rather than hardened) and short-swords instead of a longer blade. There were around seven of those, of which two had the cold dead eyes that Lyam was all-too-familiar with from looking in the mirror after a job.
It seems like all sorts of types try to become adventurers, He mused. Those two both felt like they were of significantly higher level than the others… possibly even twice their level. If they were to be tested against each other (a possibility he was considering, given that no one had come out of the room beyond yet), he would need to eliminate those two from the competition early on. Lyam did not even want to think about how dangerous a specialist assassin type would be at twice his level, given the boosts the System gave.
He was interested to see that the mixture of newbies was heavily tilted toward elves and goblinoids, with only a few very young Felinor and one or two scaled individuals. There were at least a dozen orcs in various shades of green or blue skin, three ogres (or what he assumed were ogres, since they were nine feet tall, had bulky muscles, and looked brutish as a caveman), and two lanky creatures with warty green skin, distended thin limbs, and long noses.
The elves ran the gamut from the ‘classic’ white-skinned, golden haired elf of Tolkien fame, to faintly-browned Wood Elves, to the dusky gray or even black skin he recognized as drow from his race-choice. Most of them had some kind of long-ranged weapon on them, whether it was a bow, a crossbow, or throwing knives, though a few seemed to be pure warrior types with a long spear or a short-spear and shield.
The goblinoids had the largest number of individuals with axes, at four, and one particularly intimidating ogre with a gigantic iron-bound club.
All-in-all, Lyam had to wonder just what a party of adventurers looked like, since his only experience with it were a few CRPGs he got for free with one of his desktops.
It took almost an hour for him to reach the desk, and he finally got a look at the receptionist.
She was a woman who faintly resembled a Felinor, in that she had a similarly feral cast to her face, but her ears were longer and her tail was bushy. The fur on her ears was a dark red, with a black rim around the top, and her hair itself was pitch black, her eyes silver with round pupils, telling him she definitely wasn’t a Felinor. Her tail was longer as well as thicker than Mirrha’s, with fur similar to her ears with a white tip right beyond the black.
She slid a single sheet of paper with a number of blank spaces over to him and smiled professionally, her eyes meeting his only momentarily, “Are you seeking to join the Association today?”
“Yes. I was advised that it was the best option for me,” Lyam replied. He felt her begin to examine him, and he used a technique Laevarian had taught him to conceal his Title and its perk, just to be safe. It was a matter of willpower versus intelligence, with the intelligence of the examiner needing to be twice the willpower of the one being examined, from what Laevarian said.
“Hmm… Level 10 Curse Dagger. Interesting specialty… my Index Skill tells me that it is a fusion of the Drow Mage Dagger and the classic Curse Mage classes. You also have access to Gravity magic and a Felinor sword style, not to mention some… ‘interesting’ Talents. I think you will do fine,” Her expression became warm after she finished examining him.
“Please fill out the form, and once you have returned it to me, pay your fee before entering the testing room over there,” She said, pointing behind her at the door in question.
Lyam looked at the paperwork and frowned. The first three lines were easy, but the fourth, his ‘Build’ was something he had only heard of in passing from gamers. It was supposedly the role one served in the line of battle, if he remembered quickly. He thought about what his abilities could do, and he decided to write something random based on his skills, since he had never actually worked closely with someone else.
Name: Lyam Aldren
Level: 10
Class: Curse Dagger
Build: A mix of stealth, magic, and close combat, with a focus on mobility and crowd control through Gravity Magic.
He ignored her raised eyebrows, tapping the copper disc on the desk.
Do you wish to pay the registration fee for the Adventurers Association? Note: One can only join three Associations, one Guild, and one National Entity. If you wish to join a different Association, Guild, or National Entity when your slots are full, you will lose your existing affiliation. Y/N
Lyam mentally pressed ‘Y’ and raised his eyebrows at the message he got after his three hundred credits transferred.
You are now a temporary member of the Adventurers Association. Permanent membership is contingent upon completion of the testing process.
“Head back there… and good luck,” The receptionist said, a mischievous glint in her eyes. Similar to the Felinor girls, her eyes lingered on Lyam’s claws for a moment, and her tongue ran over her lips.
Lyam felt a shiver run up his spine. Mirrha was bad enough, but he had a feeling this woman might be even more dangerous.
He hurried through the door, letting it close behind him, only to find an empty room with a gray stone floor, contrasting with the marble of the lobby.
He looked around, but he couldn’t find another egress point than the door he had entered through. A moment later, though, he got his answer, as his vision was filled with incredibly bright light.
_________________________________________
Laevarian sat at a small table across from a grizzled old orc, watching Lyam’s antics on a hologram projected by a crystal in the middle of the table.
“So you did not warn him?” The orc asked with a smile.
Laevarian shrugged with a mischievous smile of his own on his face, “It is tradition. All new adventurers have to face the trial without knowing what it is.”
The orc chuckled, then his face became serious, “You really gave up most of your levels to your tribe, eh?”
Laevarian’s smile faded, a look of old anger mixed with sorrow crossing his face, “It… was tradition.”
“It is a bullshit custom. Rituals that take experience are horrifically inefficient. I doubt if the Elders got more than one-tenth of the xp you lost in the end,” The orc replied angrily.
Laevarian’s level when he was forced to return home was 50. After the ritual, it was 10, and since then he was mostly forbidden from hunting to gain levels. Most of his skill levels were lost, too, though he managed to retain half his cultivation base despite the Elders’ efforts to claim it entire.
All travelers from the tribe had to go through the ritual, to supply the Elders with the xp they were unwilling to risk themselves to get. The process was agonizingly painful, stripping one of all gains after their first specialization. It was the most horrifying experience of Laevarian's life, even moreso than the loss of his tribe.
“Well, now they are dead, all that xp they stole from the travelers before me wasted. Not that any one of them ever got beyond 30,” Laevarian said with a shrug, hiding old bitterness.
“Are you going to go back to adventuring?” The orc, Guildmaster Urgo N’al asked. In the days before, he and Laevarian were in the same party, and he spent almost half a century enraged at his friend’s decision not to defy the call home. Now, he was a Level 100 Fang Knight, a mithril adventurer, and the head of Daena’s Adventurers Association.
“Yes, though I will be parting with Lyam after this,” The elf replied, his emotions hidden behind the mask of his face.
“A pity. Those skills of his indicate some really excellent training,” Urgo said, looking like he thought Laevarian was a bit crazy.
“He is from the newest Sublimation,” Laevarian revealed.
The orcish warrior’s eyes narrowed, “And you want me to be his backing?”
“Yes and no… I wish you to back him as the Association would back any adventurer. I owe him no further favors after today, but it is likely he will become a target once the nobles figure out where he came from,” Laevarian explained.
“I see… that is not like you, elf. In the old days, you would have been the one urging our party to take in the helpless newbie. What happened?” Urgo asked.
“Nothing happened, except that I met him. I do not expect anyone to succeed in confining him for long. Even in the time since I met him, I have seen how much the System loves him, and…” Laevarian shrugged.
“… the System absolutely loves to test its favorites, usually in a way that causes ridiculous amounts of havoc and destruction,” Urgo finished, looking like he had bit into something sour, grinding his tusks against one another in irritation.
“It is best that he be high-level enough to handle such problems on his own, when the time comes,” Laevarian said.
“So I guess the Challenge Dungeon instead of the Trial Dungeon?” Urgo asked wearily.
“Indeed. Lyam will probably hate me for it when you tell him who made the suggestion, but I will be long gone by then,” Laevarian said with a smirk. He was obviously enjoying his mental picture of Lyam’s reaction.
“I will take care of it, old friend… but make sure you come back to see me before another century passes. There are no more Elders to keep you away now,” Urgo admonished.
Laevarian chuckled and tossed Urgo the key to Lyam’s new home, “Caluz gave him a room in the Sandhouse. Could you have someone direct him to it when he is done?”
Urgo sighed and rubbed his bald head, his green skin wrinkling around his eyes as he expressed his irritation at Laevarian’s imperiousness, “You do know that I am higher level than you now, do you not?”
“What of it? You will always be ‘bratty Urgo’ in my mind,” Laevarian smiled cheerfully as he left the room, his old friend fuming lightly behind him.