Damien stood before the main building of the Adventurer’s Guild, and was once again reminded that there were many sights to be seen on Xaunis from straight out of his wildest dreams and fantasies. The Adventurer’s Guild HQ was a large four story building with a slanted roof, the building itself was made of a variety of materials, making it a warm, welcoming place to be, which Damien suspected was the entire point. One couldn’t gain customers of any particular reputation or note if they felt unwelcome.
Just above the front entrance of the place was the sigil of the Guild: a sword and a quill crossing over a magical orb of power, representing the three main responsibilities of the Adventurer’s Guild: exterminations and combat contracts, managerial and investigative work, and magical related issues. Truth be told, that last one was also the purview of the Mage Guild, but they were much fewer in number, and not exactly worldwide.
“It’s a pretty sight, ain’t it?” Leon asked, staff against his shoulder as they gazed at the place. They weren’t the only ones admiring the building, just as they weren’t the only ones taking the Adventurer Trials. Many of them were of an age with the two, in their mid to late teens, with several of them sporting equipment that held varying degrees of quality. The human himself was sporting flowing clothes that didn’t restrict movement, though he had leather bracers on each of his forearms
“It’s certainly a sight,” Damien responded, his palm resting casually on the pommel of his jian, which sat in a sword belt against his left hip. His dark leather armor was worn comfortably even in the slowly rising warmth of the day, his belts of throwing knives banded across his chest, with several dozen spares in his Inventory Ring. He had a feeling that he was going to need a lot of them.
The two of them quickly stepped inside, finding the place crowded with hopefuls. It was honestly packed enough that they’d put most of the tables away, leaving space for the many participants to talk and mingle with one another. Damien saw many people of all stripes of life, from humans to Hearthborn and even the occasional Seraphite. Rarer than even them were vampires, mostly because many of them stuck around Carmina, where they were guaranteed blood of at least a decent quality. Damien had yet to see any faces he recognized beyond Leon, but something told him he might be seeing some of those soon enough.
The two of them quickly got in line to register for the Trials. It was a long que, but a fast-moving one, the two of them stepping forward every quarter minute or so. Still, Damien found himself quickly growing bored, especially since it was next to impossible to hear his friend over the din of dozens of conversation happening all at once.
So it wasn’t a complete surprise when he got knocked into by someone with a shoulder bump. Damien muttered a brief ‘excuse me,’ and kept his place in line. Whoever had just done that clearly wanted to start something, because they muttered something along the lines of ‘pussy.’
The Traveler had heard worse, however, and didn’t rise to the bait. When it seemed like the person was about to do something particularly stupid, Damien glanced over at him. The coloration of his eyes must have disturbed the guy, because he quickly broke out into a cold sweat and started backing off like nothing was the matter.
“Damn dude, what’d he do to you?” Leon asked as the guy walked off.
“Hm? What do you mean?” Damien asked, genuinely confused.
“Wha… how didn’t you notice? You were giving him a death glare.”
“No I wasn’t,” Damien said. At least, that’s what he thought had happened. He’d just looked at the guy, so that reaction was a bit over the top, to say the least. “I mean… I don’t think I was. Was I?”
“Yeah man. Like he was a mortal enemy.”
Damien turned back to his front, expression slightly grave. He hadn’t made glaring his default facial expression, right? It seemed a stupid thing to contemplate, but first impressions meant a lot, especially if the person in question was particularly attentive to such things.
Soon, they got the the end of the line, where a slightly harried looking attendant sat between several other people who were filling out various forms at a pace that boggled Damien’s mind, even though his Reaction Stat was above a hundred now. He turned to his own attendant, a slightly portly man with craggy skin and hair that looked like a deposit of solid, stylized gemstones in the permanent fixture of a certain style. A Geode, and the first of their kind that he had seen since arriving on Xaunis. Still, he had seen pictures of them in a few books, so his appearance didn’t totally shock him other than a momentary ‘wow, they’re real’ moment.
“Name, age, Affinity and Level upon time of registration,” the man asked, glancing up and down at Damien as he scribbled down some thing on a form which Damien couldn’t see.
“Uh… okay, I’m Damien Sinclair. I turned nineteen a few months ago, I have an Umbra Affinity, and I’m currently Level nine.”
The man wrote all of that down as he continued to fill out various things on the sheet. “Good, good. Do you have any bonded familiars or spacial storage devices on hand?”
“Yes to both,” Damien acquiesced.
“Alright. You’ll have to get approval from our quarter master for anything you bring with you in that device. He’s to the far right, with a bunch of gear and weapons around his desk. Can’t miss ‘im.”
“Thanks. Uh… no comment about the familiar?” Damien asked, clearly confused by the procedure.
“Most familiars that come through here aren’t strong enough to cheese the Trials, so it’d be a waste of time and a breach of privacy to have everyone share something like that without just cause. Even normal familiars are kinda uncommon.”
“Guess no one told him about me, did they?” Ash remarked in Damien’s mind with a snarky chuckle. Damien smiled mentally at his familiar. While he had not doubt that the Shadow Wolf wouldn’t break the Trials in terms of difficulty, he would still make them a lot easier. The perks of always having an extra teammate in your back pocket.
Damien walked towards the quartermaster while Leon quickly got registered with his own attendant. He found the line to be significantly shorter than the one that had preceded the registration desk, and for good reason. Spacial storage was expensive. Even the ring that sat on Damien’s own finger right now cost a pretty bit of Camori. Still, that was why he wasn’t surprised with most of the clientele that waited on the quartermaster.
Rich kids. Rich kids everywhere. Many of them decked out in their finest fashions, entirely unsuited to the Trials that were about to take place. Damien would’ve scoffed, but that would bring attention to himself. Besides, just because they were rich didn’t mean they were undeserving of respect. He didn’t even know them yet. And he knew at least one person in their social class who was one of the kindest, witty and intelligent people he had ever met.
The Traveler shook away fond thoughts of Felicia as he waited in line to check in his Inventory Ring. Unlike before, this line took a lot longer to move despite having far less people in it. Because, of course, many people in this line thought they were the exception to the rule. Only sometimes did they listen to the quartermaster’s specifications, and that was a relatively rare few.
Of course, the person a few spaces in front of him had been arguing with the quartermaster for at least fifteen minutes. It started to get particularly annoying when he started arguing about the quality of his knives.
“As I said sir, we cannot allow you to bring enchanted items of this quality into the Trials. It would rend them relatively moot for you, and the entire point is to ensure that you are ready at all.”
The person at the front was clearly dissatisfied with that answer, and rather comically stomped their foot down in protest. “But they were a gift from my brother! Surely you can-”
“While I am sure he meant well, these will do little more than serve as a crutch. No one wants to pass our Trials in such a way. To do so would be a true disgrace. On us, and especially upon you.”
Damien thought he recognized the one at the front, arguing about his daggers. His blonde hair had been tailored into a slightly different style, and he couldn’t quite see his face, but his slender frame and manner of dress were familiar enough for him to place him.
Willan quickly sighed, acquiescing to the quartermaster’s demands and handing over the aforementioned enchanted daggers. They would likely be returned to him upon completion of the Trials, the vampire quickly picking up his Inventory Ring from the counter as he walked back through the space. He didn’t notice Damien’s presence, and the Traveler likewise didn’t make himself known. They hadn’t exactly met or parted on the best of terms, so it would be prudent for them to stay out of each other’s way, for now.
Eventually, Damien came to the front of the line, where he took his Inventory Ring off his hand and placed it on the table in front of him. The quartermaster quickly placed it on a nearby device, which displayed its contents to the man, appearing as an opaque screen to Damien and preventing him, along with anyone else, to see what he was. The man quickly listed off the thing that Damien had prepared for that day.
“Several dozen throwing knives of similar design, a month’s worth of trail rations, a few steel jians with minor repair enchantments, engraving tools, a variety of lower quality Mana crystals, spare crafting materials, rope, enchanted rope, camping gear, enchanted firestarter, non-magical firestarter, magic lantern, non-magic lantern, a variety of potions for various resources, and…”
The quartermaster trailed off as he looked at the last items in Damien’s ring. Not with shock or outrage, but with piqued interest. He looked at the Traveler with a raised brow. “Where’d you get these?”
“I made them, actually. They’re only Common rarity though, so I don’t think they violate any of your rules.”
“They don’t,” the quartermaster confirmed, sliding Damien’s ring back across the counter top. “So, you’re a Runesmith then?”
“How could you tell?”
“It’s the make of ‘em. And the fact that they’re covered in arcane symbols.”
“Yeah, should’ve figured that’d be a giveaway,” Damien said.
“Well, it looks like everything in here’s good to go. Just wait a few more minutes and the Trails should start shortly.”
Damien nodded to the quartermaster in thanks, weaving through the bustling crowd to find Leon snacking on some jerky in one of the far corners of the space. The Traveler quickly joined his human friend, and the two started speaking about various things, including all of the items that they had brought in preparation for the Trials.
Though it was the first time that either of them was participating, they both knew that the Trails were a month-long excursion into a controlled space called the Forest of Harmony, which was where they had hosted the Adventurer Trials for the last few decades. The reason the didn’t swap out locations was because of the sheer variety of monsters and resources available there. Even its name, the Forest of Harmony, was in reference to the unusual harmonic balance of each Affinity present in the space. Also, there was the fact that monsters spawned there relatively often, but with any particularly high or notable levels.
“I do think that a lot of people underestimate just how useful certain technologies are, especially when they’re away form civilization for so long,” Leon explained.
“And that’s why you brought along a welding rod?” Damien asked with a raised eyebrow.
“No! That’s why I brought along a collapsable shelter,” Leon retorted , tossing a cuboid structure up and down in his palm. It was, in essence, a much more advanced variation of a collapsable tent, except much more advanced and self-building. It was also, to Damien’s knowledge, the most advanced thing that his friend had ever built. “The rod’s just in case I find anything to tinker with.”
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“Fair enough. I wish we had some maps of the place, though,” Damien said with a sigh.
“That’d kinda defeat the whole point of the Trials.”
“I know. Doesn’t mean I can’t dream.”
Eventually, everyone’s attention was brought to the enter of the room, where a Stormblood woman stood on a central podium that had not been there before. She cleared her throat, the noise loud enough to silence every conversation taking place to little more than white noise. Then, she spoke. “Welcome, contestants, to the seventy seventh annual Adventurer Trails! Now, as many of you know, this contest in held every year to determine who among you will join the ranks of the Adventurers Guild, and while it’s quite likely that most of you will pass, you will only do so operating within our rules.”
This was where everyone listened up, even those who likely already knew the rules. It wouldn’t do to ignore them and mis a new rule they added due to something that happened in a previous year.
“Firstly, do not kill your fellow contestants. While death is a risk in these Trials, we expect that rate to be either extremely low or non-existent. Killing one of your fellow contestants is grounds for immediate disqualification and banning from any Adventurer Guild establishment except under extreme and specific circumstances. Understood?”
A chorus of agreement rang out from the crowd of people surrounding her, Damien and Leon included. The Adventurer Guild took their Trials with extreme seriousness, and the few times that people had broken their rules had been immediately and severely punished. It was rare for someone to be stupid or desperate enough to break them, specially the no killing rule.
“Alright. Now that that’s out of the way, let’s move on to the rest. Secondly, do not blackmail, bully, or otherwise coerce other contestants into working for you unwillingly. Doing do will result in immediate disqualification. Third, no enchanted items above Rare rarity. In most cases, it leads to overreliance on the object. We’re here to assess you, not your wallet.”
She went on for a few more rules. They were simple, but blunt and straightforward, without obvious loopholes or clever workarounds. She also emphasized the point that mental coercion had a zero tolerance policy, and would result in a swift and immediate disqualification, ban from the Adventurer’s Guild, and a fine of several thousand Camori. It seemed that the Guild took the sanctity of one’s own mind even more seriously than they did for killing another person.
Damien could understand why. Mentalists were a rare breed of caster; so rare, in fact, that he’d only come across mentions of them at Regina’s towards the back end of her book selections. They were described as those able to affect a mind in ways both subtle and direct, and due to their rarity, there were few defenses against such casters other than Level disparity, high Willpower, and sheer mental fortitude. Damien hadn’t gone through such training himself, but given the potential danger that such casters posed, he might well consider it. But that was for later.
“Alright! Now then, if you would all please gather in the next room, you will be assorted into teams of five! We’ll try our best to balance you accordingly, but please understand that those who you end up with will be part of your team for the entirety of the Trials. Unless there is sufficient and justified reason, you will not be allowed to change out any teammate. Is that understood?”
Surprisingly, it took a few moments for everyone to nod, sans Damien, Leon and a scattering of others. That felt weird. Though, as Damien thought about it, compatibility was a genuine concern when you were placed on a team. You had to trust the people you were with to have your back, and he doubted that most people here came with too many friends.
Gradually, everyone shuffled into the next room over, each person receiving a number at the door, marking the numerical position of their team. Somehow, both Damien and Leon both got the number seven, which felt particularly odd to the Traveler. He knew that seven was a common number in manga because of its affiliation with luck in Japan, but this felt downright odd. Also, the chances of both him and Leon getting the same number were nigh impossible, especially since this place had so many people on hand. He suspected that the people handing out numbers had some kind of experts speaking in their ears, teaming people up if they had compatible Affinities or potentially had synergistic Classes.
The two quickly stepped over to the place their numbers had indicated, a small space with the number seven emblazoned above it. There were a few quickly thrown together chairs there; five in total, one for each of their prospective team members. Glancing around at the other area, it seemed that the process was much the same for the rest of the room, with various people either glancing at or immediately occupying the chairs presented to them. Damien and Leon quickly occupied two of their own, the Traveler thumbing at the pommel of his jian while he and his friend waited on the rest of their party.
“Who do you think they’ll set us up with?” Leon asked, taking out some metallic bobbles and pins, playing with them to make random configurations as they waited. “Do you think we’ll get a healer? I hope we get a healer, because we’re mostly got damage dealing down already.”
“Me too, but we also need someone with range and someone who can be a full tank. No offense Leon, but you’re not exactly the best at it.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” the human said with a shrug, unoffended by Damien’s remark. “I’m more of a pseudo tank than anything else. Still, given your Class and all, you’re basically a pseudo caster, given all of the fighting you do up close and personal.”
“Well… yes and no,” Damien said, unsure of how to explain this to Leon without giving too much away for anyone who would decide to eavesdrop at that moment. “It’s less about choosing one or the other and finding ways to weave them both together. My Class can’t do what it does properly without both martial and magical talents. It’s… actually, is Spellsword a Class?”
“Not sure,” Leon said, glancing upward in a brief moment of thought. “But I think it might be. It certainly wouldn’t surprise me, given how many stories have protagonists wielding swords and magic both.”
“Well, either way, I’m not a swordsman or a caster. I’m both and neither all at once.”
“So what you’re saying is that you’ve got damage dealing covered already?”
“Basically, yes,” Damien answered with a slight chuckle.
The two made spots of conversation over the next few minutes as they waited for the rest of their teammates to arrive, speculating what their best team dynamic would be for the duration of the Trials. After a while, a pair of people came over to their area, each holding a number seven in their hands. Damien looked at the two with slight interest, sizing them up before each of them sat down.
One was a young Hearthborn man, with skin the shade of dark wood and a tall, slightly bulky figure, with dark, dreaded hair pulled back into a small tail towards the back of his neck. His face was soft and gentle looking, seemingly set with a permanent, easygoing smile, the fiery veins giving away his heritage shining through like trenches of magma through volcanic rock. He wore voluminous, flowing white robes with light silver embroidery at its edges, only the tiniest hints of floral patterns made of the material. At his side was an oddly shaped rod that seemed to look half like a mace and half like a scepter, as though someone had fused the two objects together in a bizarrely beautiful fashion that Damien found quite interesting.
Their other companion was much different than the robed man she sat next to. With her coral blue skin tone and candy-green hair, she looked like she had stepped right out of the ocean. That technically wouldn’t inaccurate, considering the fact that she was a Tidekin. Damien knew very little about them, save the fact that they mostly stayed in their underwater cities and were rarely seen outside the coast. Considering the fact that Lamora was a landlocked city and Ulys’ coast was a few hundred miles away, she must’ve come a long way indeed.
Her hair was done up in a high ponytail to keep it out of her face, and her features were smooth, but sharp, with the grace you would see from underwater predators. There were even gills trailing the edge of her jawline and neck in ways that Damien almost didn’t notice. Her armor looked similar in design to plate, but wasn’t made of any kind of metal, and rather looked like interlocking pieces of smooth, cream orange coral, hiding much of her figure sans the fact that she was much shorter than the others and looked to be nearly as muscular as the Heartborn sitting next to her. She had a tower shield on her back made entirely of metal, contrasting the rather beautiful look of her armor with the brutalist efficiency of sheer defense. The polearm on her back, a trident with three barbed heads and a handle of that same smooth coral as her armor, seemed to be an attempt to reconcile the two contrasting styles at play.
Damien nodded to the two, promptly introducing himself. “Morning. I’m Damien Sinclair. It’s nice to be working with you.”
The Hearthborn gave him a warm smile, extending a hand for Damien to shake. “The pleasure is mine. I’m Cyrus Willow, and I too look forward to working with you.”
The Tidekin woman gave Damien a quick glance, shrugging as she figured that it wouldn’t be too much of a hassle to tell him what he wanted to know. “Name’s Kora Deepwave. I’ll reserve judgement on you until I get to know you all a bit better.”
“I… yeah, I guess that’s fair,” Damien said, pulling back from the handshake with Cyrus.
“Well, I’m Leon Spring,” the human of the group interjected. “And I’m looking forward to the Trials as well! Say, uh… would it be rude if we all started talking about our specialties and how we may be able to balance as a team?”
“That… seems a little too personal right now,” Kora said, her discomfort slipping into her voice.
“Personal, perhaps,” Cyrus said, his voice gentle and soothing like a kind teacher’s. “But it might well be necessary if we are to make it through the Trials. A bit of trust can go a long way, Kora.”
Kora seemed like she was about to object to the decision, but sank back into her chair with a sigh. It seemed as though the two knew each other, at least a little bit, and though Kora seemed to be around the same age as Damien and Leon, Cyrus seemed slightly older than the rest of them by about a year or two. That was when the fifth and final member of their team showed himself, turning the chair around and sitting down with his chest against the back, like he was some punk kid in an eighties movie.
“Hey,” he said, barely any inflection in his tone of voice. Damien raised an eyebrow at him, but otherwise waited for him to given his name. “I’m Jaime Catonis. Nice to meet you, I guess.”
His whole demeanor screamed laid back and lazy, though his appearance didn’t reflet that attitude. His hair was black like pitch, and cut much shorter than Damien’s own, with no unusual or supernatural indications on his kin, in his hair, or buried in his eyes. The young man was probably human, given all of that, with a plain face and dull blue eyes the color of cornflower. His physique was lithe and sleek, though it seemed he had particularly strong shoulders and biceps. He had on plain leather armor that seemed well used, with a dull grey cloak over that which looked to be in similar condition. He also had a shoulder quiver and a bow appearing over his right shoulder, giving away his occupation as an archer. Then, he spoke up.
“I’m not sure what you’re all thinking right now, but I don’t think it’s too much of a hassle to at least let people know what your role is. I’ll go first,” Jaime said as he held up his hand, letting sparks dance along his fingers. “I’m a ranged damage dealer with a Fulgur Affinity. I can hit things hard from afar, but I suck ass at close combat, so I’ll probably be staying back for most of the proper fighting.”
Everyone else looked at each other in slight bewilderment, though Leon and Cyrus were the first ones to recover from his sudden declaration. Damien wasn’t exactly sure who this Jaime was, but he was already thankful that he had managed to cut through the awkwardness of a bunch of people meeting for the first time.
“I suppose I’ll go next,” Cyrus said, raising his own hand to form a few little flowers atop his palm. “I’m a caster with a Lignum Affinity, and I specialize in area of effect Spells and recovery magic. I can go into close combat if I have to, but I’m not the most durable guy around, so I’d also prefer not to be in that situation unless I have to.”
“Awesome! We’ve got a healer,” Leon said with a fist pump. “Anyway, I’m a close combat guy with a Ventus Affinity, and I’m good at hitting things really fast. I’m also not great in the durability department, so it’d be great to have a bit of backup there as well.”
Damien and Kora looked at each other, the intensity of their gazes almost sending sparks flying as they tried to determine who was going to speak up first. Then, to everyone’s surprise, they started playing rock paper scissors with an intensity that you would usually only see in high-physicality sports or life ad death fights. After several stunning seconds of play, Damien came out on top three to two, Kora slumping forward slightly as she accepted her defeat.
“Damn,” the Tidekin woman cursed, sighing as she went on with the explanation of her role. “Well, I’m a tank with a Ferrum Affinity. I piss things off and I’m prepared to get hit as a consequence of that. I also don’t really do magic, so don’t count on me for stuff like that.”
That left Damien as the odd man out, and the only one left to give a proper explanation of his abilities. He shrugged and went along with it, not seeing much point in hiding stuff from the people he was probably going to be spending a considerable amount of time with.
“I’m a swordsman and a pseudo-caster with the Umbra Affinity. I’m pretty good with close combat, but I can go into range if I have to. I suppose my main weakness is that I can’t really go head to head in terms of raw strength.”
Everyone turned to him for a moment at the mention of his Affinity, but they all quickly moved past it. Damien supposed that was the norm, especially if Umbra was as rare an Affinity as everyone else he’d met had let him to believe. He was still grateful that they hadn’t decided to bombard him with questions about it and what he knew about it.
“So… who’s gonna be in charge?” Kora asked.
“Uh… I’m not sure,” Leon said, clearly confused. “Also, why do we need a leader, exactly?”
“Well, maybe not for bigger decisions, but we definitely need someone to direct us where we need to go during combat,” the Tidekin answered. “If we all only act like individuals instead of a group, then we’re probably not going to last very long. So, it’d be good to at least establish someone who can dictate our flow.”
“Shouldn’t that wait until after we get a proper baseline for what everyone does?” Jaime said. “Getting a read for people’s rhythms is an important part of team strategy.”
“That will have to wait for later, I’m afraid,” Cyrus said as he stood, glancing towards the end of the room and the person standing in front of a large, circular area covered in runes. “It looks like we’re about to get teleported to our destination.”
The woman in front of the teleportation circle looked to be the same one that had told them the rules of the Trials earlier, and looked on at the groups with a large, beaming smile. “Alright! We’ve got a lot of your all here this year, so things are going to be a little different. We’ll give you all the details once you’re in the Forest proper, so make your peace and say your prayers now! Because from here on out, things will only get tougher and tougher.”
She walked out of the way of the circle, and quickly shuffled people onto it group by group. There was less than a hundred groups of people that year, but still far more than fifty, which still made for nearly five hundred people in total. Eventually, though, Damien and the rest of the seventh group were shuffled onto the circle, and, in a flash of arcane light, vanished from sight to the Trials proper.