I walk into the local adventurer’s guild house. It is actually a house, as the only actual Guild Halls are in “major population centers”. Places like Indianapolis used to be. They were one of the few places that completely rejected the creation of Guilds or anything, as the city council or whoever was in charge during the change kept insisting that the federal government would be back. After a certain point, most of the people left, but the ones who had remained were still holding out for the United States Government to save them.
And now they would all be Undead or possibly worse depending on what I found.
I walked up to the counter with the sack in hand. Dead guy’s head is in it, as the last time I walked in with dismembered body parts the local Guild Leader talked to me about at least covering it up.
“Mr. Greyman,” says the receptionist at the counter, “How can I help you today?”
I pull out the Wanted poster, and slide it and the sack over to her. She sighs, “Why do you always kill these guys? It could get you in real trouble some day!”
I shrug. I’ve never quite fit in here in Grainhollow. To many people focused on nurturing life, while I’m here being the exact opposite of them. At least no one actually thinks I’m evil or anything like that, as to them, I’m just another adventurer.
I keep moving around the area that Chicago has taken over, partly to continue putting up the cemetery wards, and partly to keep people from wondering about the strange adventurer who hasn’t died yet, but still hasn’t advanced in the Guild. Most of the guildies as I call them, they start off as maybe E rank, which means they may or may not know any magics, and they are about as effective as a goblin with a chainsaw. Which isn’t at all.
They push as hard as they can to complete five missions for the guild and advance their rank, which allows them to choose what they are doing and where they are going. A lot of them end up joining the Prince’s Army. Good pay, good food, and it’s simple enough for them to fit into the rank structure.
A few end up choosing to be guards for crafters or caravans. The crafter guards normally settle down and raise a family, while the caravan guards are almost never seen again. And then there are the career adventurers. Monster Hunters, Explorers, and Guild Leaders. Every guild leader has been with the guild since near the creation of the guilds, with it normally being the party who brought the adventurers guild to a population center becoming the guild leaders for an area. The Monster Hunters are exactly that, they hunt the biggest, meanest, and scariest monsters they can find. I call those people suicidal, but to each their own. And the Explorers are the ones who remap the lands. They also are the ones who foray into the wilderness and discover what’s changed.
And then there is me. I’ve completed twenty missions, but I’m still at E rank, which is just unnoticeable enough that no one asks any questions. No one except the guild receptionists know that I’ve completed twenty missions either. From the whispers I’ve heard them whispering about me, I’m something of a legend, and none of them are sure what my rank would be if I actually cared enough to get promoted.
Well, I guess it’ll be time to change all of that.
As she counts out my stacks of coins, I push ten of them back at her. “I’m interested in taking the test for advancement of rank.”
You’d think I’d dropped a bomb or something. The receptionist knows me, she knows how many missions I’ve already completed. Including the mission which had Trolls on it that went from being a D rank mission to a B rank mission while I was gone from the guild house.
Her eyes get wide, and she nods her head quickly. “O-of course sir! We’ll get that set up right away. What class would you like to take the advancement for?”
I look at her and say, “You’re going to want the Guild Leader here for this. Also, the Guild Charter as approved by the Council of All Gods and ratified by the Princedom of Chicago.”
As I finish speaking, her face has gradually gotten more and more white. She has never heard of a single situation where the Guild Leader of any affiliated guild hall or house has been required for a promotion test, much less needing to take out the copy of the Adventurer’s Guild Charter. Most of the adventurer’s couldn’t even remember the full original name of the charter, much less that there was a specific version for the guild in Chicago.
“O-o-okay.” She stutters as she leaves her desk and heads to the upstairs area of the house where the Guild offices are at.
Minutes later there is a shout, “I don’t care what he wants, he’s an E rank member of the guild, I don’t need to do anything for him!”
I sigh. Figures, I would have to come to the one guild house that an idiot was at. I recognize the voice of course. Bill Masterson was one of the original members of an adventuring group in Chicago, the Tempests. He was the guardian of the original party, good with a blade or heavy guns, and thanks to his magic, able to take quite a few hits.
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The problem therein being his magic. Bill’s an Earth Mage, and I’ve yet to meet an Earth Mage who wasn’t stubborn as hell, and so set in doing things a specific way that they would fight a God if they thought they could get away with it and win.
I’d met Bill before, and he didn’t like me then. From the sound of his voice upstairs, he probably still didn’t like me, or would like me even less once he discovered it was me. He would be a problem, for more than one reason. Bill hated necromancers, with a passion that bordered on fanaticism. So I might want to consider leaving, before this got way worse.
Too late.
Bill comes down, looking like a thunderstorm. The receptionist looked like she wanted to be anywhere but here, and she was clearly worried as she had in her hand a rolled up piece of parchment.
“All right,” Bill says, “Which no brain, queer bait, dip shit insisted that the Guild Leader and Guild charter be present for his promotion test.”
I sigh. “That would be me Bill. Pleasure seeing you again, why are you here instead of over in Illinois? I thought the Guild Master had stationed you over there for reasons best left unmentioned.”
Bill looks at me and his face goes red. “YOU!” he shouts, clenching his fists and clearly restraining himself.
“Yes. Me.” I say, with a slightly bored expression,” How is Guild Master Stevens doing? I assume you must have seen him recently, otherwise you wouldn’t be here. I purposely came to this side of the city to avoid running into you again, and yet here you are.”
At this point, I figure I’ll be doing good if I get out of this spot without a fight of some sort happening.
He’s still red, and his jaw is working, but he’s not actually saying anything. And then, I hear the sound I’d been sort of expecting to hear. The beat of wings, and the scream of a Griffin. That would be Guild Master Stevens.
Ashley Stevens was the leader of the Tempests. She was a powerful Beast Tamer, with a Griffin and two Harpy Eagles as her companions. The Griffin’s bonus ability, which kept illusions or lies from working in a Griffin’s vincinity, had helped her move up quickly in the guilds ranks, and since it was big enough to ride, she was able to fly to wherever she wished to go. She stayed in the Chicago area, as everyone recognized her griffin, Reginald, here.
But the reason I was expecting her, is that Bill shouldn’t be here. He was effectively banished to the back country after a particular mission that both of us were a part of, failed due to him not doing his part and trying to get someone else in the party killed. He hated Ashley from the bottom of his black little heart, and if I could have, I’d have killed him a hundred times for what he tried to pull on that mission.
Bills face pales as he realizes that she’s here. She was also on that mission, and she is the one who got the Chicago ratification of the Guild charter. Without her, he wouldn’t even have a job, which I know frustrates him to no end.
But the other reason I knew she would be here is that someone requested the charter be brought out for some reason. The gods watched the charters to see if someone was going to use them, and I knew for a fact that Ashley was a devout follower of Artemis. Which probably meant that Artemis had given her a heads up that someone had requested the charter for some reason, in Grainhollow.
Isn’t that convenient? I think so.
As she walks in, I notice that besides wearing riding leathers that accentuate her figure a bit, instead of the enchanted plate mail armor that she wore into battle, she hasn’t changed all that much. Bit younger than I am, so maybe twenty two? Athletic figure, though still clearly feminine in all of the right places.
“Why hello Guild Master Stevens! What a surprise to see you here,” I say, with false sincerity. She snorts, clearly seeing through me as she looks and sees that Bill is here as well.
“Bill,” she says, “What in the nine hells are you doing this side of the territory? Did someone mess up and remove the warning I attached to your file about you only to be given postings to the west of Chicago?”
He pales and says, “The local guild leader asked for a favor of me. We go way back, and he wanted to make a run to Kalamazoo to see his mother. Apparently she lives on the outskirts of town and he was going to try to convince her to move down here where she’d be safer.”
The receptionist nods her head, which makes Ashley sigh and pinch her nose. “This is why we set up the post offices, isn’t it. So that people could communicate what was going on over distances, instead of going and doing whatever they felt was right!”
She looks at Bill, “Get back to your own posting. I’m here now, and I’ll stay until a suitable replacement is found. Then I’ll be sending an investigative team to look into how you managed to slip this by a Goddess who’s still pissed at you and the nobles who I know spy on you like crazy because they think you’ll hide things from them.”
Bill pales, and almost runs out the door of the Guild House. He’s an Earth Mage, so traveling isn’t too difficult for him. I keep myself from laughing until he’s well clear of the door.
Then I simply can’t hold it in. Bill Masterson is a lot of things. A friend of mine, never. And seeing the stuck up prick run out the door because of a girl half his size is one of the most amusing things I will ever see. Largely because I know he made the smartest move he could, which will piss him off, but also because the look of fear combined with rage on his face means he might do something dumb, at which point, he becomes fair game.
Ashley turns to look at me, then glances over at the receptionist, who is clearly in shock at how everything went down. I’m still laughing, and I think this is the first time any of the receptionists have ever seen me laugh. As a matter of fact, most of the room is looking at me, and as I start to stop, Ashley goes to say something.
I wave my hands in front of me, “Please don’t, not yet. You say anything, and I’m liable to lose it again. The look on his face was just perfect, and I know he’s probably trying to think of some way to get back at you, which I also find rather amusing.”
She smiles, and motions for the receptionist to bring over the Charter and heads back to the counter. The other adventurers, a small party of E’s and a couple D rankers, start to go back to what they were doing before the unfortunate interruption.
Well, time to make some history.