The party filed out of the room and walked down the corridor. At first, nobody spoke, as each of them was still processing the meeting. When they reached the stairs, Bordan studied the slip of paper he’d received and whistled.
“What is it?” Edwin asked, and they crowded around Bordan.
“Look for yourself.” The former soldier said, showing them the paper.
“That’s a big number.” Leodin said with awe. “I didn’t know adventurers made this much money.”
“Well, you have to divide it by four.” Edwin said. “Also, this is for a month of non-stop work, and we don’t know how big those bonuses were.”
“Still, it’s a comfortable amount.” Bordan said. “Definitely more than I made in the army.”
“It’s less stable though.” Salissa added. “We only get paid if we fight something. Right now, there is a lot of work. When the wave is over, it will be much less.”
“True.” Bordan nodded. “Let’s enjoy it while it lasts. At least you can definitely start paying for that armor of yours, Edwin.”
They continued downstairs and to the reception desk, handing the slip to Meren. The elderly receptionist walked off with it and returned a short while later with a box. He slowly counted money onto the desk, piling up four even stacks of shiny coins in front of the cheerful adventurers. It wasn’t a large amount of money by Walter’s standards, but for Edwin it symbolized the well-earned reward of his hard work, the first money he’d made as an adventurer. He was more than happy to take it.
“What now?” Asked Salissa when they walked out of the guild house.
“I’m going home.” Bordan replied resolutely. “I haven’t seen my family in weeks, so I’m spending as much time with them as I can. We meet at the pig and scroll tonight for our celebration, other than that I suggest you guys take some time off too. Let’s meet for training…two days from now at the practice yard, let’s say at tenth bell. We need to stay in shape, and there are some areas where we can definitely improve quite a lot. I’m sure they’ll want to send us out again in a week or two, we should be better prepared by then.”
The others agreed, and soon they had dispersed. Edwin and Salissa headed to the western quarter, intent on finishing their shopping. On the way, Edwin kept an eye out for Olin but saw no sign of the boy. Master Foss was happy to make a pair of boots for Salissa, but he hadn’t seen the urchin in over a week either. Slowly, Edwin was starting to worry. His mind kept going back to that alley in Pel Oreis, and to Minyala’s broken body in Walter’s arms.
Olin is a free spirit. He probably just found a better place to hang around and be nosy. He’ll be back soon enough. Pel Darni is safer than Pel Oreis anyway, there aren’t any powerful gangs he could’ve angered like she did.
Pel Oreis was by far the strangest city in the duchy. Home of the Mage’s College and the University, the only non-magical institution of higher learning in the new world, it was full of colorful characters. One was just as likely to meet a Journeyman mage cheaply selling questionable rituals or experimental alchemistic concoctions as to meet a charlatan peddling snake oil and charms. The constant need for rare and exotic resources had led to a thriving black market, controlled by powerful criminal elements, which easily put it above even the industrialized Pel Andris and the metropolitan Pel Harvand in terms of danger. Pel Darni, however, was widely considered the boring backwater city of the duchy. With a strong population of armed adventurers and tight security all around, organized crime had never managed to establish more than superficial financial interests in the city, with baron Lidion and the guard keeping a watchful eye on the city’s largest source of income, the smithing workshops that churned out weapons and armor for the army down south.
When they completed their purchases, Salissa bid Edwin goodbye and left. Edwin had ordered several new pairs of clothes, as well as handing his cloak over for repairs. The garment had held up reasonably well, but a few times the weather had forced him to wear it during a fight, leading to holes. As was generally agreed upon, holes in a raincloak were bad. With Salissa gone, Edwin didn’t quite know what to do. He didn’t have any friends or family in the city, and he didn’t really have any hobbies either. In his free time, Walter had used to read books, work on rituals or done other kinds of magical research, but Edwin couldn’t really do any of those. For a moment he considered going back to the Guild’s training yard, but he still remembered Mennick’s warning. The instructor was perfectly willing to throw him out if he was of the opinion that Edwin needed to rest – even if Edwin didn’t know how to do so.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
In the end, Edwin simply wandered aimlessly around the western quarter. He didn’t find Olin, but it felt nice to be back in the city, and he enjoyed the afternoon sun as he watched workmen hurry by and the different shops that lined the road. Before he knew it, the sun started to set, and he made his way to the pig and scroll.
--- ----- ---
“It’sh she best, you’ll shee!” Borm slurred. The adventurer was tall, broad-shouldered and reasonably handsome under a curly mop of brown hair. He was also drunk as a skunk and twice as annoying, with his arm slung around Edwin’s neck, almost hanging off him. The other party had come back from their assignments two days before Edwin’s, and they were the only other active adventurers who had made it. There were five of them, the most common number for adventuring groups, although four fighters to only one marksman was less typical. All of them had been nice and welcoming, but once Borm had had a few ales, he had gotten it in his head to try and convince Edwin of the benefits of his weapon choice.
Unlike most adventurers who used a spear to keep things at range, and a one-handed weapon with a shield whenever that wasn’t feasible, Borm preferred a two-handed sword that was as long as he was tall. According to him, it fulfilled both roles better than the alternatives, which Edwin found highly unlikely. He had listened first with curiosity, then politely, but finally expressed his lack of interest to acquire one of the expensive and ostentatious weapons. Borm didn’t leave it alone, however.
“Come on, you’re built for it! You’d have more range than even your markshman! One shwing and everyshing’sh dead, like, legs over here, head and armsh and shtuff over shere!”
“Alright, that’s enough.” Doren said and dragged his teammate off the exasperated Edwin. Borm tried to resist, but Hetta, another one of his teammates, took his other arm.
“You keep saying that, but why did Moss get more goblins than you back at the sawmill fight?”
“What?” Borm said, confused. “He didn’t! I got shix, he got four!”
“Really?” Hetta said, eyebrows rising as she gently turned the big man around and led him to the door. “How could you have gotten six and Moss four if there were only seven in total?”
“Shere were more shan sheven!” Borm insisted as he let himself be dragged out, his words getting more and more garbled. “Shere were at leasht…ten…sho if I got…sheven and Moss…shix…”
“He got three, I got three, and Doren and Deld had two each.” Hetta corrected him.
“No, I’m certain I had two, you and Deld had one each, and Moss had three.” Doren added from beneath Borm’s other shoulder. “How many did you have again, Borm?”
“I…eh…it wash twelve in total and you had one… and shree...”
Edwin watched with a bemused smile as the door closed behind the adventurers.
“They really know how to handle him.” He said to Deld, the group’s marksman, who had quietly kept sipping his ale throughout the whole ordeal.
“Practice.” He replied drily. “A hunk of meat like him, you’d think he could hold his liquor. Even with his ridiculous sword he’s a good fighter, but he’s bad at counting and easily distracted.”
“How well does it work, really?” Edwin asked.
“If he has the space to swing it? Scary good. But when do you have that much space in every direction? Put him in a thick forest or a tight burrow and he’s in trouble. He’s making it work just fine, but I wouldn’t recommend it.”
“Thanks, good to know.” Edwin said, looking around the tavern. One table over, Bordan was telling army stories to Moss, Leodin and Salissa, although the latter two knew most of them already. The regulars had mostly cleared out, only Mennick was still at the bar. The instructor was trying to convince his old teammate, Master Karel to come out of retirement and help him train the new recruits, as he had been for over an hour. It was hard to say, but it seemed like the tavern master was coming around. He had stopped refusing outright and was listing reasons why it would be a major hassle, which in Edwin’s experience was often a sign that begrudging agreement was just around the corner.
Edwin smiled, and suddenly he realized that he was enjoying himself. It was a profound realization, and he stopped and held onto the feeling for a moment longer. Walter had never had many friends, nor anything that could be called a real social life. Edwin still felt more at home alone or with only his party that he knew well, but here, in this tavern, surrounded by friendly faces, he found what he had been looking for, what Walter had built the Immortalizer to find. It wasn’t about killing monsters, or making money, or seeing the world. Walter could have done each of those things much easier and better than Edwin could. But no matter what he did, Walter could never have truly become an adventurer and felt the camaraderie and companionship between equals that made this life truly special.
Edwin could. Just like whoever would emerge from the Immortalizer after him. In this moment, Edwin realized that Walter’s dream of immortality had really, genuinely come true.