Upon reentering the armory proper, Brian noticed the people were overall much shinier than before. A majority of them either wore armor, or were in the process of putting it on. Perhaps seeing both Ylva and Tiffany spurred them into action. Whatever the reason, most sported some form of protection. There was a lot of leather and chain maille, two other people in scale, and one guy who wore the breastplate from a full harness.

There were a few weapons laying about as well. Just as Brian predicted, ranged weapons made up a large percentage of those who'd already chosen. Bows, crossbows, javelins, and even a sling, it seemed many people had the same line of thinking he originally did; the enemy can't hurt you if they never reach you. Though most hadn't chosen implements yet, the ranged trend could be expected to expand when they did.

When Brian and Ylva found Tiffany, she hadn't gone far. The blonde girl stood off to the opposite side of the miscellaneous table, more or less where they'd left her. She still refused to look at anyone, but at least her posture wasn't all buttoned up anymore.

"You see?" Ylva called as they approached. Tiffany looked at her with surprise. "That's how long it's supposed to take to get someone in their armor."

Tiffany said nothing as the two stopped within easy conversation distance. Her eyes gave Brian a quick top to bottom. Though he realized she were simply looking over his new attire, he still felt uncomfortable under her scrutinizing gaze.

"I just found out Brian, here, is a man of the cloth," Ylva continued.

"A what?" Tiffany asked.

"A cleric." Brian briefly held up his holy symbol. She shrugged and gave it a bewildered expression. "I'm a healer. When people get hurt, I use magic to heal them."

"Magic? Do you hear yourself right now? I mean, how's that supposed to work?" Tiffany criticized.

"I don't know," Brian admitted. "That's part of the reason I went for a war cleric. If I can't use magic, then at least I can still hit stuff." He laid a hand on his hammer for emphasis.

"I don't think they would give us things like holy symbols if we couldn't use them," added Ylva. "I'm sure everything will work out."

"If you say so," Tiffany sighed.

Some time passed, though not as much as Brian would have assumed. He hung around with Tiffany and Ylva exchanging occasional conversation, most of which excluded the former, not on purpose, but because she showed little interest in speaking. Ylva's mostly upbeat nature made her easier to talk to. That, and Tiffany was still uncomfortable in her armor. Without that to hold her back, speech came easier to Ylva. Tiffany only offered her two cents every once in a while.

When they weren't talking, Brian took to observation. With each minute that passed by, the number of people kitted out in weapons and armor grew. Many wore pieces of armor instead of full suits, a cuirass here or some bracers there. Just as he'd predicted, there were a lot of ranged weapons. If they really were to be split into parties, it were entirely possible for a team to have no melee support at all. A squad of only wizards and rangers wouldn't last very long if the enemy got close.

What amazed Brian most about all these people was that none of them tried to run. There were still the same amount of people in the room right then as had entered in the first place. Far as he could tell, anyway. He thought for sure some would've slipped out in the commotion but none did. Maybe, like him, they were too scared. Maybe that fear, more than anything else, inspired them to don weapons and armor to go chase contracts.

Just when Brian began to think everyone looked more or less geared up to a reasonable extent, Edgar's voice boomed over the hall.

"It seems you all have chosen your equipment." Edgar stood at the far left wall. His voice was far too loud for normal projection. "If you have not chosen, then use the next few seconds wisely, for your time is up. Before the parties are formed, there is one last thing I must give you. Rejoice, this is a gift from the Meister himself."

Edgar held up both of his hands closed his eyes, and began to mutter an incantation. Several people reacted to this show. They assumed what looked to be ready stances and some even drew weapons. Ylva's hand flew to her sword, but she did not draw it. Brian attempted to brandish his own weapon. His sleeve got caught on one of his cuirass scales. He fumbled around trying to free it. When he finally did, frantic fingers fought for purchase on the weapon. They rolled around the head, traced the spike, and slipped down the sides. . He knew what he wanted to do but couldn't relay that message to his hands, which couldn't decide how best to grip the thing.

Edgar's chanting stopped. A wave of heat hit Brian. Like going outside on a humid summer day it slammed into him with such force he had to brace one foot behind him. A look at Ylva saw her in the same struggle. Tiffany had her face turned away and hands up as if trying to push the heat.

Soon as it came, the invisible force vanished. In its wake, Brian's mind clarified. His fingers set just below his hammer's head, lifted it from the belt loop, tossed it up, and caught the grip at the bottom before it could actually go anywhere. All of this happened so quickly, he'd barely been aware of himself doing it. Brian stared at the hammer with awe. It felt great in his hand, even better than before. His instincts flared with ways he could use it, possible attacks to unleash from that position.

"What did you do to me?" A woman cried out from the crowd. A general commotion followed her, too congested to make out much more than confusion and anger. Edgar put up a hand. Once again, the crowd fell silent, though Brian wondered if this time it was for fear of another spell.

"You have been granted the Gift of knowledge," he said. "You now have a basic understanding of your equipment and abilities. How you use them is up to you. But take heed, for this boon will only carry you so far. Practical skill and more advanced usage will come with time and practice. I suggest you spend some time training."

"Weird," Ylva commented to her group. "I don't feel any different."

"I will now begin the process if splitting you up into adventuring parties," Edgar continued. "You do have a choice in this matter. If there is anyone you would like to be grouped with, please stand with them now. I will assign members accordingly."

It took a while for people to get moving but once one did, the rest who wanted to set off as well. Not many of them went much of anywhere, though. Brian suspected most of them failed to make any sort of meaningful connection. Brian wouldn't have either, if not for the two girls who reached out to him.

"I might as well stick with you two. You seem like a good enough lot," said Ylva.

"I was thinking the same thing," Agreed Brian as he thanked Bahamut she decided to stick around.

Tiffany didn't say anything, but she also stayed put. She clearly didn't like either of her two companions, but the devil she knew was probably better than a bunch of complete strangers.

"So, are you planning to use that thing?" Ylva pointed at Brian. It took him a second to realize he still had his hammer out.

"Oh! No." For a second he expected to fumble around trying to fit the thing back in it's loop, but instead it slid right in without even glancing off one side. Probably just little bit of dumb luck. He doubted his ability to do that again on purpose.

"Don't be embarrassed," Ylva said. "I think most of us were a little spooked."

"Yeah," said Brian.

"We should probably separate from the crowd, though, just so Edgar knows we're together."

"That's a good point," Brian nodded. Ylva started off to her left and Brian followed a step behind. "Come on, Tiffany," he beckoned. The blonde girl hesitated a moment before falling in.

Ylva led them to a spot by the armor wall, behind the crowd and well apart from any congregation of people, organized or otherwise.

"So, Gift of Knowledge. What do you think that's about?" Brian asked as they came to a stop.

"I don't know," began Ylva. "He said it was supposed to let us use our weapons or something, but I don't feel any different. Do you?"

"I'm still a little warm from that spell or whatever it was, but I'm fine otherwise," Brian said.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

"See, I don't even have that," argued Ylva. "How about you Tiffany?"

The girl didn't say anything at first, electing to stare at the ground instead of acknowledging them in any way. Just when Brian thought she'd continue ignoring them, she spoke.

"I don't know," Tiffany began. "I feel- I feel…exposed, but not in an indecent way. It's more like open. I know there aren't any shadows or good hiding spots in this room, but I don't know why I know that. I feel better now that we're closer to the wall, though, but I don't know why that is, either."

"Maybe you're just nervous?" Brian suggested. Tiffany just shrugged.

"Whatever the reason, let's all be glad we're okay," said Ylva. Brian nodded, while Tiffany just looked away with her arms crossed.

"I will now begin the assignment of parties," Edgar's voice boomed over the room, drawing every eye to him. "I will begin by filling in the groups, starting with the group of two closest to me. When I call your name, please come and stand with your new party. The first member is: Marcus Esparza."

There was a pause throughout the armory. No one dared move an inch. Brian looked around for whoever this Marcus person was, but saw nothing. Not that he could blame him, of course. Brian probably wouldn't have wanted to move either, not when it meant drawing attention to himself. After what must've been about a minute, he finally caught a bit of motion to his right. A short-ish Latino man in his twenties walked across the room and joined up with the two other members of his team. They were now a trio of men.

"Atsuko Murasaki," announced Edgar. The wait this time was much shorter, just a few seconds. A young Asian woman joined the three men.

"That's one down," muttered Brian.

"Since the next group is four people, the only name I'll call is Rodger Davis," Edgar called. A middle-aged African-American man joined the team closest to Brian's. This man was the oldest of his accompaniment.

Brian felt his pulse pick up. If there were only three groups already chosen, and the first two were now filled, that left just his. This was it, then. After his team was formed, he'd be given a contract and UT on his way. It seemed so far away just minutes ago, but now that the moment was breathing down his neck, he wasn't ready. He remembered all of the reasons he didn't want to be a guildy, and all the reasons he had no choice.

"Anyone else nervous?" Ylva asked.

"Yeah," Brian said, and even Tiffany nodded. Though, Brian expected she'd been nervous for most of her time here.

"And now for the final group," Edgar announced. "The first name is Hector Alvarez."

Brian looked around for their new member. As the only person moving, he was easy to spot. It was the elderly Hispanic gentleman from earlier, the one who talked to the guards. He couldn't look more like a wizard f he tried, from the plain gray robes, to the long walking stick, to the massive tome hanging in its leather case at his right. His hair was even white, though balding instead of luxurious. He gave the three of them a warm smile as he approached.

"Hi, I'm Hector," he said, extending a hand to Brian.

"Brian," Returned the younger man. Hector moved down the line.

"Ylva," she said with a hardy handshake. Hector moved on again.

"Tiffany." She did not shake his hand.

"So," Hector let his hand fall, "looks like I'm your resident magic user."

Before anyone could respond, Edgar interrupted.

"The final name is, Calvin Roberts."

Again, Brian looked for his new teammate, who also wasn't hard to spot, but more for his size than anything else. Calvin was an overweight African-American fellow, wide without standing much more than six feet tall. He was clad head to toe in reddish leather, the shirt fastened with ornate bronze clasps shaped like rounded diamonds. Across his shoulders he held a massive kanabo, a long hexagonal head fitted with metal studs carved atop a much thinner round hilt long enough to accommodate four hands.

"Hi, I'm Hector," the older man said the moment their newest member was in easy earshot. He extended a hand.

"Calvin." He went down the line introducing himself with never more than a half-hearted handshake.

It wasn't until Calvin reached Brian did he realize just how young he was. Despite his considerable size, his face was that of a teenager. He couldn't have been any older than eighteen, maybe twenty if he looked young for his age. That put him as the youngest member of the group and—in Brian's opinion—far too young for adventuring. The road was no place for someone who hadn't even finished school yet.

"I will now form the final two parties from those remaining unsorted," Edgar's voice boomed around the armory. Brian mostly tuned him out, not because he didn't care about the other parties, but because he had enough to worry about with just his own.

"Well, this is exciting," Hector said with a smile.

"Yeah, that's a word for it," snipped Tiffany.

"It's bullshit, is what it is," Calvin said.

"Look, I get it," Hector began. "You're all afraid, and confused. You want to go home, and I do too, but complaining isn't going to fix this. Maybe this is all real, maybe it isn't, but that doesn't matter. We're in it, now. I think the best thing we can do is go with it, and never stop looking for a way home."

"I basically said the same thing to Brian," added Ylva. "I want to go home and see my fiance, more than anything, but I also understand that just wanting to go home won't get me there. I think our best move is to just go with it, for now."

"Don't you think it's a bit early for speeches?" Tiffany raised an eyebrow.

"No, they're right," Calvin said, and then sighed. "I hate it, but they're right. This Edgar guy seems pretty powerful, and I don't even know if I know how to use this shit." He wiggled around his greatclub for emphasis. "I really don't wanna piss him off."

"What do you think, Brian?" Ylva asked.

Brian just starred at her a moment, stunned eyes wide with shock. He'd been so engrossed listening to the arguments from both sides, he sort of lost himself in the moment. Ylva addressing him directly was his call back to Earth—or Exandria, wherever they were. He genuinely hadn't expected to be called on, like the kid in class asked to answer a question he wasn't paying attention to. After the second of surprise passed, it turned to embarrassment.

"What? Oh, sorry." Brian looked away for a second to clear his head. "I kinda agree with both sides, really. I do think it's important to live in the moment. We're supposed to be the new members of some guild? Fine. He'll kill us if we refuse, anyway, so might as well give ourselves a fighting change. On the other hand, I agree with Tiffany that it's a bit too early for heroics. Lets see what we have to do, first, and then make the speeches."

"I can get behind that," Hector said with a huge smile.

"At least one of us is thinking kind of logically," Tiffany said without looking at anyone. Brian decided to take that as a backhanded compliment.

Conversation amongst them died away after that. For all the big words and grandeur, they were all still nervous and reluctant. Calvin hit on something when he said he wasn't sure if he knew how to use his weapon. Sure, Brian had that weird moment where he suddenly figured out the proper way to draw a warhammer, but who's to say that wasn't a fluke? How far did this Gift of Knowledge really go?

Edgar picked up the pace a bit in assigning the final two groups, mostly because the ones who remained still unsorted were smart enough to figure out they were the final party. Looking at them all arrayed around the place, Brian realized something odd. The split between them was uneven. The first team had four people, while the last one had six. Why not five even teams? It baffled him. Edgar, for his part, gave none of them time to think about this or anything else.

"With the formation of the adventuring parties now completed," Edgar said, "I will hand each of you your first contract. There is no deadline for completion, but you must begin work on them within twenty-four hours.'

Chatter sprang up within the groups as Edgar walked toward the first he had formed. It was the most lively Brian had heard them since picking equipment, though the bar for that wasn't very high, since there had been rather little talking at that time. Edgar produced a scroll from out of his robe sleeve and handed it off.

"What do you think ours is gonna be?" Brian asked.

"Probably something with ye olde rats and goblins," offered Ylva. "That's what first quests always are."

"Let's hope it's nothing more serious," said Hector.

"Shit, as long as it ain't ghosts, I'm fine," Calvin said.

"There are ghosts?" Tiffany asked, looking around.

"I don't think that would be much of a problem," Ylva said. "We have a cleric."

"I don't think I know Turn Undead, yet," Brian said.

"Turn what?" Tiffany put a hand on her forehead. "I swear, it's like you guys are speaking a different language."

"Ooh, that's a good point," Ylva said. "I wonder if I know any other languages?"

"I always wondered what Giant was supposed to sound like," added Hector.

"Oh my God, I was fucking kidding," Tiffany said, one order of magnitude away from yelling.

"Aww, Tiff, I was just messing with you," Ylva said with a step closer to her. "I'll try to speak in plainer terms."

"Tiff? Don't do that. We're not friends." Tiffany shut Ylva down post-haste. The shift on the Norwegian's face was palpable, a sad slacking as if she'd been slapped.

"Uh... guys?" Brian hated to interrupt, but Edgar was approaching them. He pointed. The party followed his gaze, and instantly shut up. Each of them turned their full attentions to Edgar. Unconsciously, Brian put a hand on his hammer's head. He hoped his new companions had similar thoughts.

"What do you have for us, Edgar?" Hector took a step toward the ancient man and asked.

"Something befit of your station," Edgar answered. He produced a scroll from his sleeve. "Old Mrs. Isalda is having trouble with rats in her basement again. This is the third time. The Crownsguard are tired of dealing with her, so they hired us to do it for them."

"Working for the Empire already? You must really trust us." Hector quipped as he took the scroll. Edgar said nothing, only tightened his jaw slightly at the jest.

"Where can we find Isalda?" Ylva came to the rescue.

"All relevant information can be found within the scroll." With that Edgar moved on to the next group.

"Well, he's in a chipper mood," Ylva joked.

"What are we supposed to do now?" Calvin asked.

"He said we have a full day to get started. Why not get some rest?" Brian suggested.

"It's still daylight out," countered Ylva.

"The longer we wait on this, the less we'll want to do it. I say we just go now," Hector said.

"This may sound weird, but I actually agree," Tiffany said. She drew shocked and confused looks from the rest of her party. Her face colored at the attention, and she recoiled slightly into herself, but pushed on anyway. "None of us want to do this, right? But, if we don't, there'll be consequences. We might as well get it over with soon as possible."

"That's what I'm saying," Ylva agreed.

"Me, too." Calvin added, even though he hadn't actually voiced an opinion yet.

"It's settled, then. We can read this on the way." Hector led the way out of the chamber, and back up the stairs they had all come down to reach the armory.

Brian didn't really mind being outvoted. The suggestion to sleep had been more for his own exhaustion, than anything else. He was always tired, though, so it probably wouldn't hinder him much. Despite the fear in his heart, the dread at whatever action may come, and the longing to go home, Brian was a bit excited. He always dreamed of going on an adventure like Bilbo or Peter Pevensie. Now he had the chace to do just that, though not in the way he may have expected.