Traveling to the nearest gateway didn’t take me more than an hour, maybe two at the most. I was feeling sort of overloaded with everything that had happened, so my mind wandered, and I thought about where I was more than anything. Every floor in the tower had to be accessed through a gateway, which was an extremely powerful magical portal that transported people between floors or out of the tower. They came in two main varieties: so-called natural gateways which were a part of the tower and found on every single floor, as well as a single gateway near the base of the tower. As far as I was told, they existed as long as the tower had, and were likely built along with the tower itself.
The second kind of gateway that existed differed from the first main type in that it wasn’t found on every floor of the tower. These were gateways that were built by people who entered the tower and they connected to the same sort of tunnel system or whatever the natural gates used. I say that they weren’t found on every floor because they generally either only existed because someone built them on one of the colonized floors, or because a company or guild shelled out a vast amount of money and resources to have one built for their own usage.
There were other types of gateways that I knew about, although I wasn’t able to personally verify the existence of all of the rumored variants. The other type that I knew for sure existed were the moving gateways. Every floor tended to have at least two or three natural gateways that were fixed in place, and there were another couple of portals that moved around the floor to random locations at fixed intervals. Nobody was exactly sure as to why these moving portals existed, but it was theorized that they existed to prevent any kind of powerful group from being able to lock down entire floors for whatever reason. The Tower Authority also clearly worked to prevent that as well, as it would spawn monsters capable of raining destruction down on man-made structures if you attempted to block off one of the natural gates. The Tower Authority did not seem to care about gates that had been constructed in the same way.
Each floor of the tower was unique. They tended to be vast spaces that resembled various environments that you might find in the world, but not always. Generally, they were around 100 to 150 square miles in size, which was far larger than the tower itself was. Not that the tower was small! It was a structure that was so mind-boggling in size that it seemed alien. Growing up in an orphanage, I’m ashamed to admit that I only had a fairly rudimentary education. Most of what I knew I learned through talking to people or overhearing others. So, I can’t say with certainty what size the tower was exactly, but people tended to say it was between 1000 and 1500 feet in diameter. And as for the height, well, nobody knew, and that was part of the magnetic appeal that the structure had. It went higher than the eye could see, that’s all I knew.
Given the scale of both the tower itself and the far larger interior, you might think that getting lost and needing maps would be a huge deal. And to an extent, that was true. The layout of each floor was more or less fairly static and there was a whole guild dedicated to exploring the interior of the tower and mapping out every nook and cranny. For the less prepared people like me, we had the beacons to guide us. Each of the natural gateways shot an incandescent beam of light into the sky that was visible from miles away, even in the harshest of weather conditions. This is how I was currently making my escape from floor ten.
I was feeling fairly confident that the gateway I was making my way towards wasn’t the same one I took to get in. There was a small settlement of maybe a few hundred people built around the gate I’d come through, but I wasn’t seeing the typical signs of settlement and I was within half a mile of the gate itself at this point. It didn’t matter, as far as I knew, every gate in the tower could directly access the other floors and entrance. My mind shifted to another topic as I thought about what to do when I got out. What I’d been told was troubling me.
I lived in tenement housing in the poor quarter, and it went without saying that there was a pretty good amount of crime in the quarter. I had more than a passing familiarity with having to deal with street gangs and other shady sorts; many of the kids I grew up with currently fell into the category of ‘self-employed’ or ‘businessperson.’ I had a sense of pride that I didn’t wind up becoming a ruffian myself, but it was something that I spoke to nobody about. Many of the folks who were career criminals and hustlers tended to be a bit sensitive to snobbery.
It’s not the fact that I am going to be in danger from hostile, violent people that I find the most upsetting. If I had to pick a single thing that worried me the most, it was that I had no idea what sorts of people I might run into who would be looking to leave me dead in a gutter. Who were the other acolytes or followers or whatever you wanted to call them, and was there a way I could easily identify them? For that matter, was there a way that they could easily identify me? I don’t have a mirror, but I still think I look like myself. There’s no fire shooting out of my ears or nose, and I’m not glowing as far as I can tell.
Wait a moment.
What if it’s a perception skill? Can they sniff me out like a hound, or maybe sense my presence? I don’t want to try and dig through my entire skills list out here in the wild while I’m unable to defend myself. I need to get to my room, or somewhere relatively safe to go through and try and make sense of this mess I’m in. Shit.
The forest dropped off into a wide open grassy plains, and I could see the gateway just ahead. Thankfully the beacon didn’t come out of the gateway itself and instead originated a good fifty to a hundred feet up in the air, otherwise looking at the gateway would be blinding. The gate itself was not a terribly impressive looking thing. It was a free-standing archway made from the same light gray and mostly featureless stone that the tower itself was built from. It stood on a solid circle of stone a good fifty feet or so in diameter that was smooth and clear of any plant life or debris. The archway was constructed from blocks of stone about three feet by three feet in size, and of varying heights and form based on where in the structure they were positioned. The interior dimensions of the gate I estimated to be around twelve to fourteen feet tall at its peak, and a good eight or so feet wide. It was possible for species of most all sizes to come and go without any impediment, and you could ride various kinds of mounts or drive small wagons through the gates as well.
I walked across the stone platform and up to the gate, and the command menu to operate it popped into my mind’s eye. I selected the exit, and the gateway opened the portal with a soft hum. The portal itself was a flat plane that was anchored to the interior dimensions of the archway and looked like an opaque curtain of white light. I stepped through it as I’d been taught, as if you were walking through a doorway from one room to another. As with every other time I’d gone through the gates, there wasn’t really a physical sensation to crossing the plane of the portal. It did tingle the nerves in pleasant way as you passed through, but that was it.
I went from a quiet meadow to the loud commotion of the city in less time than it took to blink. I was immediately disoriented when I stepped into the city square where the ring of gates stood, and I stumbled and fell to my hands and knees. The sounds and scents of the city were overwhelmingly strong to me all of a sudden, to the extent that it hurt my ears slightly. The smells were nearly as bad, ranging from raw sewage and spoiled meat to suffocating perfumes and the everyday bodily odors of dozens of different species. I wanted to gag and throw up, but I wasn’t going to humiliate myself worse than I already had. A pair of booted feet entered my field of vision from the top, someone had approached me. I clenched my jaw and tried to use [Fighter’s Grit] to deal with the dizziness and pain in my ears. Surprisingly, it worked, and I got a level out of the skill in doing so!
[Fighter’s Grit] has gained 1 level and is now level 14!
A deep, resonant, and too-loud male voice asked me: “Are ye okay, lass? Need a hand up?”
I pushed myself up, sat back on my heels and looked up at the man in front of me. I wasn’t surprised to find he was another adventurer. He was tall, with loose black hair reaching down to his ears, brown eyes and had a jaw covered in dark stubble. I’d say that he had on a similar sort of getup to what I wore, except his full set of leather armor was many times nicer both in the tier and the craftsmanship from what I could see. Two scimitars hung at each side of his waist, and he held out a hairy, brawny hand to help me to my feet.
“F-fine, thanks. Just disoriented and dizzy all of a sudden,” I told him, speaking loudly enough to be heard over the background noise.
“Ye don’t look fine lass, ye look like ye’ve had a hell of a go with te wrong side of a bear!” The swarthy man exclaimed with a laugh. My initial impression was that he seemed like one of the good-natured sorts. I wish I had the confidence to say the same, but I feared I’d probably be lying. I took his hand, and he effortlessly helped me to my feet. I didn’t want to be rude, but he was a total stranger, so I used [Consider].
[Level 131 Human Sword Dancer]
“Th’ name’s Francois. Ye look like ye could use a drink! Buy ye a cold pin’ or t’ree in exchange for ye story, if’n ye like.” He offered, and after the morning I’d had and the past two hours spent hiking through a forest, I felt like I could certainly use one. I wasn’t normally the sort to lead another on, but I sort of got the impression he was genuine in wanting to hear my story. So, I shook my hand and introduced myself. That’s what adventurers did, right?
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“Senwyn. I’m flat broke, but if you’re buying, I’ll take you up on your offer on one condition. It needs to be someplace quiet; my head is killing me right now!”
I discovered he had pretty well maintained teeth when he smiled a toothy grin at me and said: “I know just te place! Tavern called te Soggy Mino’aur right ‘ere in te ‘rade quar’er…”
Within fifteen minutes the two of us were seated in a second-story booth, and we each had a tall tankard of cold beer. I told Francois a heavily edited version of how things had gone on my first adventure into the tower. I made no mention of the gigantic dragon, or of the strange day I’d spent in the company of a pair of scale wolves. Instead, I told him that after Yorrin and I had gotten separated, that I had been nearly killed by the Denmother and had to finish her off with my skinning knife, and that she had heavily wounded me. I attributed my healed state to a mid-grade healing potion when he commented on how trashed my armor was, and he seemed to take me at my word. I felt like I was a fairly skilled liar just because of all the things I’d been through growing up, so I hoped that he wouldn’t grow suspicious of me.
“Ye know, ye’re damn lucky te be alive, lass. Monster surges are real serious business. Scores a good people die t’em every year and is a damn shame. T’was a real spot a bad luck ye fell into, but ye made i’ out in once piece!”
I bobbed my head and took several deep swigs from my tankard. They served a much better kind of brew here than the disgusting swill I was used to in the poor quarter. If I ever wound up becoming successful, I’d be happy to drink at a place like this. As it stands now though, these drinks each cost as much as an entire week’s rent for me and were far outside my spending range. I glanced around the tavern from my spot in the booth. As the name might have suggested, the tavern was built to be accessible to the larger species, although I didn’t currently see any minotaur or ogres among the patrons. It was an inviting sort of place, with padded chairs, lacquered tables and booths, and ample magically provided lighting.
There was a spot for live music and dancing on the first floor, and quiet booths tucked away on the second. The center of the second floor was open and overlooked the first floor, with high, sturdy railings to keep tipsy patrons from falling down. The décor was all adventuring company themed, and there were old, battle-scarred weapons and beaten armor pieces hanging from the walls. It wouldn’t surprise me if they each had their own stories. Whoever owned this place loved it and took good care of it, that much was blatantly obvious.
I was being rude and put a stop to my gawping at the features of the tavern. Francois didn’t seem to mind when I returned my gaze to him, and if anything, looked rather amused.
Shit. I’ve been found out.
He was socially aware enough to offer me an easy out, which I was grateful for. I took a sip of my drink while he said: “Not used te th’ sights of a decent tavern, lass? Or are ye one of te sorts who don’ frequen’ ye local grog shop?”
I’m so out of my league here. At least I can tell him a half-truth. I really haven’t been able to afford to go drinking outside the rare occasions due to saving all my money for gear and training.
I held my hand out and rocked it from side to side in a so-so motion, and said: “I don’t go often, only if someone I know is having a party or there is an event or good reason to go.”
“Well, ye speak well enough tha’ I guessed ye weren’t the sort to spend all th’r time drinkin’.”
I felt my cheeks warm with a blush, and I tried to hide it by taking an extended drink. This was awkward.
I wiped my mouth with the inside of my thumb and admitted: “I had a very strict teacher, and I didn’t like getting the cane, so it’s sort of stuck with me.”
Francois prodded me again, but in a teasing manner more than anything. “Ye sure y’not a noble’s daughter under’akin’ out te adventurin’ life on ye own?”
I blew a raspberry and let out a genuine laugh at the notion, quickly responding: “Pft! If I saw a noble, I wouldn’t know whether or not I should slap them or sta-stare at them.”
You are not in the poor quarter, idiot! Joking about stabbing a noble will get my ass locked up!
Francois regarded with a mirthful gleam in his eye, but I was pretty sure he knew what I was originally going to say and didn’t comment on it further. Instead, he changed the topic of the conversation entirely.
“Ye think ye’ll take anot’er round at goin’ back inta th’ ‘ower, or was one near-miss enough fer ye?”
I hadn’t thought about that question, but I replied without hesitation: “You won’t be able to keep me out of it. It’s my destiny.”
His eyes lit up at my response and he chuckled. I took the opportunity to knock back another good chunk of my tall drink. I wasn’t quite chugging it, but it was close enough to a chug that I wouldn’t argue the point if it came up. The beer was good, what could I say?
After getting his laughs out, Francois planted his elbows on the booth table and leaned over his tankard, saying: “I didn’ ‘ake ye fer one a te hard-core climb er die types, lass, if’n bein’ honest wit’ye.”
Oops. Can’t talk about why that is!
“Well,” I said, pausing to lick my teeth and looking upwards as if I was lost in thought, before I continued: “I have a humble background, so I figure that I can push myself and keep training and climbing. Maybe break even or make a little coin along the way. Sure as sh- crap beats the alternative, busting my butt out here to live the city life.”
Francois raised his tankard up and replied: “Couldn’ ta put it better meself, lass. Te trainin’ and climbin’!”
I clunked my wooden mug against his and downed the last of my beer with a trio of gulps and a pleased sigh.
“Ye gears lookin’ a bit shabby, ye got a backup for that an’ ye weapons lass, or ye got a plan te replace it?”
Oh. OH. I am so stupid! He’s not here looking for ass, he’s company scouting!
I couldn’t help myself, and despite my best efforts a frown momentarily crossed my lips. It didn’t go unnoticed, and Francois raised his hands up with his palms facing me in what amounted to the universal surrender pose.
Either surrender, or ducking blame, he he.
“I fully admit ye caugh’ me, but at leas’ wait an hear wha’ I have te say before ye run off, aye?”
I tongued my cheek and failed at suppressing a grin. Now that I knew what he was all about, I had the advantageous position. Companies hunted down unaffiliated adventurers like rabid dogs and lured them into all sorts of shady shit with promises of gear, training, exclusive access and secret knowledge. There was only a few tiny details that tended to get glossed over, like requiring high taxes and fees, or in the case of some companies, getting basically forced into a private standing army. I avoided them, and for good reasons.
“I will hear you out, on one condition,” I warily told him.
“Tha’s a relief te hear lass, name yer price and maybe I can agree.”
I picked up my tankard and shook it, saying only: “A refill.”
Francois laughed at my antics and waved down to the bar for service, which was prompt. Once we both had refills, he broke into his routine. I was forced to admit that he was actually pretty terrible at his job as a recruiter, but he was a likeable and easy-going enough fellow that I wasn’t put off by it.
“I’m part of th’ company The Free Rogue’s Trading Company and I can say wit’ pleasure we ain’ like most ot’er companies. I came t’ye when I saw ye walkin’ out th’ gates lookin’ like ye jus’ got done wres’lin a pissed off giant badger. Now‘at ain’ a real rare sigh’ te see, all kind a lads and lasses come back lookin’ like ‘ey been t’rough hell an back, ye? But ye drew m’eye because you come out wit’ ye shoulders squared up and havin’ a pos’ure like you jus’ wen’ fer a stroll in a park. ‘En you say t’me t’at ye a climb er die lass, an’ it lines up f’me, yea? Ye aren’ jus’ blowin’ smoke out ye arse when ye say ‘at.”
I kept my expression neutral and drank my beer as he spoke. I hadn’t heard any details yet, but at least it answered the question of why he approached me. I nodded to him and gestured for him to continue.
“Free Rogues ain’ one a ‘em blood-suckin’ companies. In fac’, we ain’ even really recrui’in. We keep on te lookout fer ‘alent sure but growin’ th’ company ain’ anywhere near te top half a our priori’ies. None a te garbage because we’re small an happy wit’ it.”
“So what do you want then, if you don’t want what most of the other companies want?” Still not much in the way of details, but my interest had been piqued and that was the question at the forefront of my mind right now.
“Te climb te 500 wit’ a solid group a reliable people ‘at go’ each o’ers backs.”
“That’s a pretty lofty goal, but there’s a number of larger companies out there that have squads that do floors that high. Why not join them?” I asked.
“Is personal te th’ leader of our band a misfi’s.”
“Sounds like a scam if there’s just one person with this goal they don’t want to talk about who also just happens to want to get to 500.”
Francois tapped the side of his head and nodded. He took a long drink from his tankard, wiped his face and continued: “Ye, smar’ lass. I said te same exac’ ‘ing when I heard te mission. Bu’ is ‘rue. He ‘ell ye yerself if’n ye in’erested.”
I crossed my arms over my shredded armor and shifted my butt around. It had become sore at some point during this conversation. I probably should have tried to do some stretching before coming and sitting down after hours of walking. I wanted to know more about this band of misfits, but I had a number of questions that were bugging me.
“I have questions. A bunch of questions,” I said from my guarded stance.
“Ye, go on wi’ ‘em.”
“What’s the dues?”
“Ain’ no dues. Er ‘axes or none a ‘at.”
Huh. Different angle then.
“You make your people go on marches and raids and the like, then? Payment through labor?”
“We go hun’in, sure, but no more ‘an any plain group does, and fer te mos’ par’ ye ain’ forced te go.”
“Yeah, you’re going to have to explain the not forced to go for the most part bit there for me.”
“Ye, course! If’n someone needs help wi’ clearin’ a dungeon or doin’ a ques’ ‘en we ask people te lend a helpin’ ‘and. Bu’ te only real forced ‘ing ye have te show up fer is company mee’ins. We do make sure ye know wha’ goin’ on in te company so everybody clear and ain’ go an ge’ big ideas or raise a racke’.”
I closed my eyes and lightly scratched my forehead while thinking. I spoke while I still had my head down, saying: “So no dues, no taxes, no forced labor or raids or anything like that. I mean, it sounds almost like you’re all more of a social club than a company, so why bother making a company in the first place?”
Francois laughed at my question, and I looked up and into his hazel eyes.
“Aye, ye migh’ call it a social club, bu’ you really jus’ ask me why a company?” He looked perplexed at my question. I merely stared at him because why you’d go through the hassle of making a company just to put a name to a group of chums didn’t add up to me. Then again, I’d never been a member of a company, so I was pretty ignorant about the whole thing.
“Ere’s a bunch a reasons, but I’ll keep te basics. Ye get perks fer bein’ in a company, lass. Sor’a te whole poin’ of joinin’ or foundin’ one. Is a sys’em recognized organiza’ion, so on ye shee’ and every’ing. We bound by some rules we have te uphold, but ‘at ‘ere is te long an shor’ of te s’ory.”
“So what do I stand to gain by joining the Free Rogues, exactly?”
“We go’ a bunch a hand’em downs collec’in dus’ so gear fer one. We also go’ some high level folks who can help inform ye so ye don’ be makin’ a real fool a yerself when et comes te growin’ s’ronger. Free room an’ board also. Company hall is a real nice place. Wha’ ye say, ye wanna mee’ wit’ te boss? Ain’ ‘ake ye long if’n ye no’ wanna s’ay around.”
I’m still suspicious of offers that are far too good to be true, but even if there is some level of shit I have to put up with, free room and board and some gear more than makes up for it. Sure, why not?
I lifted my tankard and chugged the better part of a quart and a half of beer before I returned it to the table with a clack.
Francois grinned mischievously at me and said: “Nice.” It wasn’t like having the ability to chug liquids like a raging alcoholic was something to be proud of, and despite what Francois probably thought of me, I didn’t learn how to do it by getting completely shit-faced regularly. I turned my head and burped into my armpit in an effort to be polite.
“Sure, why not? I do have one last question for you, Francois.”
“Shoo’ lass.”
“Since you’re a terrible recruiter, I have to ask, what is it that you actually do for your company?”
“Ye aren’ gonna believe me if’n ‘ell ye,” he said, laughing with a gleeful look on his face.
“Go on, hit me with it.”
“I am te company’s solici’or and advoca’e.”
My face went completely slack, and I stared at him with a blank gaze. He was right: I didn’t believe him. He only laughed and told me to follow him to the company hall.