Oudsted was a strange town. Not because of the haphazard town that rested outside the walls, far from their protection. But for the great variety of peoples within. Ethan spent enough time in the temple to imagine an ever-twisting image of the inhabitants of the lands. Even his imagination failed to predict the creatures—people, he realized—that roamed this world.

Humans were the dominant species. But walking among them were all manner of elves, dwarves, folk that only came up to Ethan’s knees, beastkin of every type, and even those that didn’t fit into the standards of bipedal motion. As Targe and Twist led him down the snaking alleyways, he couldn’t help but stare at everything. And everyone. The only thing that dragged his attention away from the shifting scenes was the system message, alerting him that his quest was completed. That and the pair of soft-soled shoes that hit him in the forehead.

“Alright there, Ethan?” Targe asked, stopping the procession.

First, Ethan scooped up his reward. Then he inspected the new quest.

[Heal Telbarantis]

Quest

Description:

You’ve made it to Oudsted. Good job!

Now you must heal whatever is ailing the Great Spirit Telbarantis.

Objectives:

Cure the Great Spirit Telbarantis

Reward:

Rank 1 [Caller] specific weapon.

The system expected him to level quickly to Rank 1. Ethan wasn’t as confident in his abilities, but perhaps this quest would take a while. He’d been meaning to ask the adventurers how long it would take him to level to a new rank. Other things were getting in the way. Instead, he found a wooden crate nearby and sat upon it, inspecting his new shoes. They were white to match his robe, with little brass bells tied to the side. He appreciated the bell theme, but worried about being covered with bells by the time he got a full set of gear.

[Caller’s Moccasins]

[Shoes]

Rank 0

Rare

Description:

Adorned with Calling Bells, the [Caller’s Moccasins] represent a noticeable part of a Caller’s attire. Soft, yet water resistant, these moccasins allow the caller to move faster, when required.

Effect:

Increase the damage of your summon’s abilities.

With intent, shake to invoke the [Caller’s Sprint] ability, once per hour.

As Ethan slipped them on, he agreed that they were comfortable. Far more comfortable than his old work boots, but without socks they felt strange on his feet. It would take getting used to, but he doubted the description’s claim that they were waterproof. He went on to examine the [Caller’s Sprint] ability.

[Caller’s Sprint]

Equipment Ability

Rare

Cooldown:

1 hour

Description:

When you have a Great Spirit summoned, allow both of you to move faster for 20 seconds.

Effects:

Apply the [Sprint] effect for 20 seconds to both you and your summoned spirit.

Kicking his legs over the edge of the barrel, Ethan appreciated the silence. Like his staff, the bells would only ring when he intended them to do so. A sudden burst of speed would be excellent in combat. He couldn’t wait to try it out.

“You had a quest?” Targe asked.

“Yeah,” Ethan said, tossing his old boots to the man. “Got a new one to heal… uh… Telbarantis?”

“The Great Spirit of fertility,” Twist said with a nod.

“I guess that’s the one,” Ethan said. “Do you know where their temple is?”

“Right here,” Targe said, pointing in a general northwest direction. “On an island in the middle of the lake.”

“Fair enough. That’s why the quest brought me here. Are quests common?” Ethan asked.

“Come on. We can walk and talk,” Targe said, tossing the boots back to Ethan. He fumbled with them, getting his white robe muddy in the process.

The group continued their journey through the winding town.

Targe pushed his way through a crowd, leaving a gap for Ethan. “Quests aren’t incredibly rare, but they’re not common either. From what I’ve heard, people with rare classes get them more.”

“Ahead,” Twist said.

They pushed through a few more crowds, finally coming out into a massive plaza. It was circular, surrounded with shops and buildings. The signs that hung outside were in a language that Ethan could read. They ranged from eateries, to administrative buildings. Rising in the north was a stout spire, reflecting the light of the sun from scattered stained glass windows. Targe led the way, pushing toward a building with a sign that read “Adventurer’s Guild. Oudsted Branch”.

Inside was a flurry of activity. People, clearly adventurers by their dress and weapons, talked in the wide meeting hall. They sat at tables, joining the disperate races of the land to discuss contracts. A frumpy looking male human sat behind a counter, surrounded by sheets of hanging parchment on the walls. Contracts, according to Twist.

Ethan was ordered to stay back as Targe and Twist talked to the balding man. From a distance, he could hear them invoking their sponsorship on their new Caller. The mention of the class drew a few heads. More heads than before, seeing as he was decked out in a few pieces of Caller-specific gear already. The two men flashed medallions on their necks. With some effort, the functionary rose from his seat and disappeared behind a door.

“Right. We’re staying at the Marsh Wolf Tavern tonight. If they take too long to process you, just come there and ask for Targe or Twist. They’ll show you the room we rented,” Targe said, placing a powerful hand on Ethan’s shoulder.

“Just leaving me here?” Ethan asked.

“You’ll be fine.” Twist said.

“Never worry about getting mugged in an adventuring town. The amount of people that would scoop up a bounty contract is uncountable,” Targe said.

“Safe,” Twist said.

As the pair of adventurers pushed past Ethan, he felt anything but safe. The eyes of those gathered here for contracts were on him. He shuffled awkwardly to the room’s corner, the barest spot, and waited. With his staff held before him, he took comfort in flipping through the system screens. He’d made great progress for a few days. But that was his own measure of his advancement. His concentration was broken when he felt something tugging at his robes.

Ethan closed the interface and spotted a fox-person with a fistful of his robe. From their appearance, he figured they were a woman. She had the standard patterns of a red fox from Earth, complete with the snout and twitching ears. She wore a sweeping robe of midnight, and held a staff.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“What has Oudsted done to deserve a Caller?” she asked.

Ethan held his hand out for the woman to shake. “Ethan.”

“Oh! A real name. How strange,” the woman said, taking his hand and shaking it. “Lilac. Most adventurers have an adventuring name. Keep themselves separate from the work.”

That would explain Targe and Twist’s names. He hadn’t thought of giving himself a name like that. It seemed stupid, since he didn’t have a different life to go back to. He was just Ethan, nothing more.

“Ethan is fine,” he said.

“First time in the Oud?”

“Yes, I’m on a pilgrimage,” Ethan said. His companions had helped him work on his story. “Bound to commune with Telbarantis.”

“Oh, how exciting. A bit of advice? Prepare for a crowd,” Lilac said. Other adventurers were edging forward, trying to hear the conversation.

Ethan bit back his curiosity. He paused for only a moment, coming to a realization. Everyone talked about Callers like they were extremely powerful, but he determined that wasn’t the case. He communed with Luca with ease, something that Twist and Targe thought was impossible. So, people would gather to see him commune with the Great Spirit.

“Of course,” Ethan said, dipping his head slightly. “I’ve seen it too many times before.”

A wry smile spread across Lilac’s face. “Adventurers are also good at smelling lies. Just a bit of advice. I don’t care either way. I’m a [Mage]. Specializing in illusion magic. See? No secrets.”

“Ethan!” a voice called from behind the counter.

Ethan craned his neck, spotting another human man waving him over.

“Time for me to go.”

“See ya soon,” Lilac said, placing her hand on his shoulder even as he shimmied past her.

Ethan found his way behind the counter, awkwardly shuffling to the side to get through the narrow passage. The man who waited for him had a head of thinning black hair, a few scars running the length of his face, and a body that hadn’t seen adventuring in years. He wore a simple shirt and trousers, completed with scuffed shoes covered in a thin layer of mud.

“Robert Alderant. Nice to meet you,” the man said, gesturing for Ethan to follow. “I’m here to do your interview.”

Following close behind, Ethan felt like a lost child. Adventurers edged to the front counter, trying to spot the pair leaving through that doorway. A few turns later, and the Caller found himself seated in an uncomfortable chair in a stuffy, windowless room. The administrator shuffled papers, nodding and mumbling as he read.

“So, you were scooped up by Twist and Targe,” he said, still nodding to himself. “That pair is hungry to get a support specialist. They’ve struck out on every attempt.”

“Yeah, they’re nice guys,” Ethan said.

“Hmmm. Something like that,” Robert said. “Look, I can put you with a better team if you want. I’ll lay it out for you. We don’t have information on Callers. There are about ten registered summoner-style classes in Wexenhal, and they all do different things.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning that people are going to try and scoop you up just to see how your class works. You could be useless, and they’d keep you around like a pet.”

“Which means I’ll be declining your offer,” Ethan said.

Robert scrunched his nose, letting out a breath. That was true, though. Targe and Twist didn’t have the means to keep him around just to be an ornament. They needed him to fill out their team, designating him as their support specialist. And Ethan was fine with being in a supporting role. He was building himself to have massive [Mana Regen], and taking a subcore that had support abilities would work. He could always swap it out for something else, right?

“So, you’re happy with Twist and Targe? You can change teams in the future, but that’s frowned upon.”

“Very happy,” Ethan said. “I’m actually in town to see Telbarantis.”

Robert dropped the length of parchment he held, pausing for a long moment. “Not sure why you had to go and say that,” he said, pulling another sheet out and writing something down. “Just had to go and open your mouth like that.”

“What?”

“I need to inform the duke. When are you planning on summoning the Great Spirit?”

“Today.”

Sweat formed in beads on the administrator’s head. “Today? Why not tomorrow? Or a year from now?”

“Because I need to speak with the Great Spirit.”

“They’ll want to throw a festival. Do you know the last time we saw Telbarantis in Oudsted? No? Of course you don’t, you haven’t been alive for 200 years. Dammit. Alright. Can you hold out for tomorrow? The boats are going to be packed when people hear you’re here. But the duke can arrange a private craft.”

“Alright,” Ethan said, his mind rolling over the information. “I can wait until tomorrow.”

“Well, there’s a mountain of paperwork for me to do. Alright. Whatever. So, here’s the deal. To get an initiate’s medallion in the Guild, you need to complete a supervised contract. Well, normally you have a year-long waiting period and at least 5 contracts. But Twist and Targe saved up their sponsorships, so those are waived.”

“Oh wow, that’s really something isn’t it?.”

“You don’t even know. They’re betting everything on you, kid,” Robert said. He withdrew a shimmering purple stone from under the table and set it down. “This is going to record who you are. When I generate your temporary identity badge, only you can wear it. It shows your rank in the guild, and some information about you. Such as your nickname. Got anything in mind?”

Ethan thought for a while on that one. He just wanted to be called ‘Ethan’, but a funny idea came to mind. “Bells.”

“Yeah. On account of all the bells? Sure, whatever. I’ve seen adventurers called Muck, Puke, and worse,” Robert said, gesturing to the stone. “Put your hand there.”

Ethan placed his hand on the stone, instantly feeling a burning sensation rushing through his body. It wrapped around his chest, darted to his extremities, then ceased as quickly as it started. The stone made a satisfying click, then a coin-sized medallion popped out the side. Robert ran a length of white silk through the slot on the top and handed it over.

“Wear this at all times. Where are you staying?”

“The Marsh Wolf Tavern.”

“I’ll have someone stop by to give you the details on the festival tomorrow. The duke might want to talk to you, so get ready for that. Otherwise, we’ll arrange for your supervised contract sometime after that. Got everything?”

“I don’t really have anything.”

“Excellent. Come back and ask the desk clerk if you need any more information. Meanwhile, I’m off to scramble around and get this crap ready for you,” Robert said, giving Ethan a tired look. “Welcome to the guild. Don’t mess it up.”

When Ethan left the room, he snuck out the front door as quickly as he could. With the comfortable silken strap wrapped around his neck, he felt some sense of pride. It wasn’t his effort that got him in the guild, but he still felt good about it. Up until a lilting voice came from behind.

“A brand new adventurer,” Lilac said, her voice sing-song.

“Jesus Christ,” Ethan said, clutching at his chest. “Don’t sneak up like that.”

“I cast some magic to keep you out of sight of the others,” Lilac said, doubling her steps to come alongside him. “I think the words you were looking for are ‘thank you’.”

“Thanks,” Ethan said, pausing just outside the Guild. “I don’t know where I’m going. Where is the Marsh Wolf Tavern?”

“Near the docks. That way,” Lilac said, pointing in a vague direction. “Surely you want to stay somewhere not so… Drab?”

“That’s where my party is,” Ethan said, pushing forward.

Lilac said something, but he had already fallen into his thoughts. Ethan didn’t expect to be treated like this in Oudsted. He wanted solid footing to start his adventuring, a place where he could live while he discovered the temples of the Great Spirits. Instead, he was getting a damned parade. The only upside he saw was the way people reacted. They weren’t excited that he was in town. They were excited because they would see their Great Spirit again. It was enough to soothe his soul, even as he spotted the Marsh Wolf Tavern ahead.

“And of course, that’s why they were cast aside. Understand?” Lilac asked.

“Yep,” Ethan said.

The tavern wasn’t easy on the eyes. Compared to most of the buildings within the wall, this one was shabby. It was another building in a row of endless buildings, and he didn’t spot the lake nearby. With a shrug, he entered and spotted Targe and Twist chatting at a table. Their heads swiveled in unison, spotting the Caller and waving him over.

“Baggage,” Twist said, poking a finger at the fox-woman.

“Thank you for the escort, Lilac. You can leave,” Ethan said.

“Any time,” Lilac said, bowing. She spun on the spot and marched out of the tavern.

“Quicker than expected,” Targe said, raising his hand. A lizard-man came over. “Another beer.”

The lizard-person scampered off, and Ethan found his seat at the tilted table.

“How long was that supposed to take?”

“Longer than that.”

Ethan explained the problems he faced. The potential for a festival, and the duke’s involvement. The pair of adventurers received the news poorly.

“Don’t like the duke,” Twist said.

“No one likes the duke,” Targe said.

The server came by with a metal cup of swill moments later. He placed it on the table and shuffled off to see another table. Ethan brought the liquid to his lips and sipped. It wasn’t good, but it was wet. He drank half the cup before locking his eyes on nothing in particular, staring into the middle distance. The other hiccup he needed to explain to his new companions was the delay on his initiation contract. He’d summon the Great Spirit tomorrow, then the group could figure out when they could do the contract.

“Puts us in a bind,” Targe said. “But we still need to turn in our contract. File a report and all that. Best to do that in the morning. Heading to the Guild in the afternoon just gets you in a line.”

“What do we do until then?” Ethan asked.

“Relax. Maybe head out and buy you a few things so you’re up to snuff.”

“Good idea,” Twist said.

“Without a decent subcore, you’ll just be second-rate damage. And we have enough damage with Twist.” Targe took a long drink of his beer. “Guess you need some loot bracelets. And we should get a price on your Rank 1 ritual.”

“About that,” Ethan said, sipping his beer before continuing. “Luca told me progression slowed when you approached level 10 of a Rank. How quickly can someone go from Rank 0 level 1 to Rank 1?”

“It depends,” Targe said. “You might hit Rank 1 in a week if you stayed near Lucantele’s temple. But there’s no one out there to push you over the edge. No one to do the ritual. Use that timeline and double it up to the ascendant ranks per rank.”

“Pardon… ascendant ranks?” Ethan asked.

“Anything over 10. That’s when people stop being people and become forces of nature,” Targe said. “How about we get out of here and find some decent food? Treat our new team member to something nice?”

“Alright,” Twist said.