It only took a minute to open the cage and release Minerva, much to Vivi’s delight.
The elf hugged her friend with enough force to elicit a pained yelp from both Minerva and the animal in her arms.
“Sorry,” she said bashfully as she took a step back. “I just-”
“I know,” the newly freed elf said kindly. “I don’t blame you for worrying - and neither does little Izzy here, do you girl?” The hawkbear cub looked up, blinking blearily at the haggard elf, and gave a shrill chirp by way of answer.
“That means ‘sure’.” Minerva hastily explained. From the way she looked at the cub, though, Lucas suspected it meant something else entirely.
“You’re all handling this pretty well,” he said aloud, finally voicing his concerns.
“Taking what well?” Damaia asked blankly. Lucas simply stared at her in response, slowly waving one clawed hand towards his furred form.
“Oh yeah,” the felblood said, smacking her forehead. “THAT! Right. Sorry, got distracted. Yeah, that’s super cool!”
Jubel nodded in agreement at the dumbstruck werewolf. “You’re crazy strong when you shift,” he observed, rubbing absentmindedly at his throat. “I mean, you’re always strong, but… look around you! You scared off dozens of orcs and killed their leader almost single handedly. I would’ve liked to know you were a werewolf BEFORE you drank the magic moon juice, but…” He trailed off, shrugging. “It’s not like I shared my life story, either.”
“Damaia did,” Vivi said with a chuckle. “When we first met, I asked where she came from, and -”
“That was just a misunderstanding.” Damaia interrupted, her lavender cheeks turning violet. “I thought that you could use some more context is all!”
“I think we could all use a bit of context,” came an unfamiliar voice from across the room. A series of floating lights sprang into being around the room, looking like tiny balls of brilliant blue flame. A human man in a black tunic and white trenchcoat stood with his arms crossed, scowling at the party. Behind him stood a human woman, a dark haired dwarven man, a blonde elven woman and a man whose entire face was covered by bandages, save for his eyes. “Who are you and why in the fuck are you down here?!” the apparent leader of this second group snapped angrily. “Don’t you know poaching jobs is against guild rules? Or did they find some loophole just to screw us over again?!”
A human woman dressed in clothes reminiscent of a nobleman lay a hand on the man’s shoulder in an attempt to calm him, though it didn’t escape anyone’s notice that her other hand lay on the hilt of her sword. “Deep breaths, Niko,” she said, her voice carrying a peculiar accent that none of them could quite place. “We don’t want to start trouble with anyone strong enough to tame a werewolf.”
“Tame is interesting choice of words,” the dwarf said with a smirk barely visible behind his beard. He spoke the common tongue, but his harsh accent and the occasional missing word identified him as being from one of the mountain clans that lived in Grondyl.
“I’m not tame,” Lucas confirmed, slowly shifting back to his human form. “Just friendly. And I’m not even that until I’ve had my coffee.”
The joke drew a chuckle from most people in the room, though the blonde elf who hadn’t yet spoken, laughed a great deal harder than most.
“I like this one,” she said loudly, drawing a scowl from the human man. “He’s funny. And without all that fur, he’s pretty good looking too!” The elf, who was wearing a skintight suit of leather armor dyed the same dark green as her eyes, winked at Lucas.
“Must you try to sleep with everyone you see?” The dwarf asked with a disapproving scowl.
“Just because your god is a prude doesn’t mean I can’t have fun!” The elf objected. “Besides which, I can compliment somebody without trying to seduce them!”
“Name one time that you’ve complimented somebody you didn’t want to fuck,” the human man said abruptly, raising an eyebrow at her.
“I told Monika how lovely she looked just yesterday!” The elf objected.
“Lucy,” the human woman said gently, “you were heavily inebriated at the time, and spent the next half hour flirting with me.” The elf actually seemed to be somewhat embarrassed by that.
“Oh. Uhhhh… sorry?”
Jubel was beginning to suspect it wasn’t just his group of adventurers that were exceptionally strange. “How about we back up and try having some proper introductions?” he asked, desperately hoping to somehow get something at least vaguely resembling a coherent conversation out of this. “I’m Jubel. No last name. These are my friends-”
He gestured towards the others, pausing to let them introduce themselves.
“Lucas Lurant. Mercenary. Closest thing to sane this group has.” The former soldier idly pulled his half full flask of moonwater to his lips and drained it. The fight had left him absolutely parched.
“Vivian Vintas, songstress and storyteller. Most just call me Vivi for short. Also, Lucas is lying through his teeth. Jubel’s more sane by a wide margin.” The elf added the second part in as offhanded a tone as possible.
“Damaia Rita, engineer and perfectly sane thank you!” she glared at the other 3, folding her arms and huffing irritably.
“And I’m Minerva. Vivi’s a friend of mine, and it would seem she’s dragged these three down here to come save me from those orcs.”
The human man looked over the group, slowly nodding. “And your team name?”
Jubel blinked. “Our what?”
“Team name!” The man said again, more insistently this time. “The name you’re registered under in the guild’s books!” Getting only blank stares, the man’s eyes slowly widened.
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“You don’t mean - you guys aren’t even Hunters?”
Damaia nodded. “We’re just amateurs,” she said with a bright smile. “We do what we can to help out, but we’re not registered with the guild.”
Jubel swallowed his pride, slowly turning to the others. “What guild?” He hated admitting how ignorant he was of the world at large, but refusing to ask questions wasn’t going to help him.
“The Hunter’s Guild,” The human woman answered, hearing his whisper from well over fifty feet away. “I’m Monika, a swordswoman from a distant island. This is Ferris Stoneshield, our grumpy cleric, and Lucy Swiftwind, our exceptionally sociable archer.”
“That is one way to put it,” Ferris said dryly. “I would probably just call her a who-”
“I’m Niko Driftwood, leader of this team of misfits,” the human man finished, speaking loudly over the dwarf. “We’re known as Ignis, or Team Ignis if you’d like.”
“Which is awful name,” the dwarf said gruffly as he ducked under Lucy’s attempt to smack him. “You are only one using fire. Name should be more inclusive.”
“Your one to talk,” the elf interjected. “You tried to name us ‘Children of Stone’!”
“Those who live in glass houses should throw no stones, miss ‘Shining Arrows’,” The human woman replied with a look that spoke volumes. The elf blushed guiltily and looked away from the woman’s piercing gaze.
“I should introduce myself as well,” the bandaged man said abruptly. “My name is Zen Zephyrson, a scholar from Milassi. I hired this group to protect me while I study these ruins, as my own skills fall short in terms of self defense.”
That rather neatly answered the question Jubel had been about to ask, but raised another. “How exactly would someone try to steal an escort job after it already started?” he asked Niko.
“That wasn’t the job I thought you were after,” the irritable man replied, adjusting the white bandana wrapped around his forehead. “We also wanted to collect the bounty on the chief’s head.”
“We just wanted to clear out the orcs for the nearby town,” Damaia said, walking down the stairs to meet the party. “You can have the bounty for the chief!”
“The fuck I can!” the man said, sounding insulted. “We don’t take handouts. You did the work, you get the pay. No exceptions.”
“What our esteemed leader means,” Monika smoothly interjected, “is that we wouldn’t feel right taking credit for someone else’s work, and would prefer if you accept the reward yourselves.”
“Yeah, that’s what I just said.”
Ignoring their ‘leader’, Ignis turned to leave the massive stone chamber that had once been Zil’s ‘throne room’. Damaia reached out to grab Niko’s shoulder, presumably to ask him a question, and that’s when things very suddenly went wrong.
Niko spun around, his eyes wild and flames pouring from his fingertips. A thin line of flame lanced out over Damaia’s shoulder, slamming into the foot of the stairs as her friends bolted down them. It was Vivi who stopped them. Dashing in front of the others, she stood between her team and Niko, pushing her felblood friend back as she did.
“That’s enough!” She said firmly. “From both sides.” She turned to face Niko, who was trembling, the flames in his palm flickering before sputtering out. “Care to explain?” she asked softly.
“I like my personal space,” the still shaking man muttered, refusing to meet her eyes. “It was a knee-jerk reaction. Sorry.” The last word was spoken so quietly that only Damaia and Vivi were able to hear it at all. He turned towards the exit again, where his team stood, their weapons in hand. “Let’s go back to town,” he said loudly, shooting a guilty glance towards Damaia. “I think I owe you guys a drink.”
----------------------------------------
“Are you serious?” Niko almost shouted. “You don’t drink at all?!”
“What’s so surprising?” Damaia said with a frown. “Alcohol impairs focus and fine motor skills, both of which are pretty important for my work. If you want to buy me something, I’ll take tea. Mint, preferably.”
Andrew, having known what she would order, was already pouring her a fresh cup when Niko turned back towards him. “You get used to it,” he said with a nod, “and it smells a great deal better than most kinds of booze. That’s 5 copper.”
Niko tossed him the coins without complaint, along with a few silver to cover everyone else’s ale. “So,” he said without looking at the others, “you don’t have to pick up that bounty I mentioned, but if you want to, you’ll need to register with the guild. They only pay official teams. It’s kinda bullshit, if you ask me, but rules are rules I guess.”
Lucas slowly nodded, looking around the room nervously to ensure nobody else was around before clearing his throat. “We can look into that,” he said cautiously. “First, though, about what you saw back at the ruins-”
“Lucy here has the biggest mouth out of anyone I ever met,” Niko said immediately, “but even she knows better than to go blabbing about that… ability of yours. Your secret’s safe with us, so long as you don’t turn into some kinda psycho.”
“Why is everyone so okay with this?” the mercenary asked, equal parts exasperated and confused.
“Registered or not,” Andrew rumbled, “adventurers are a strange lot. I could’ve told you from the start that Vivi wouldn’t judge you over it.” Lucas shot him an alarmed glance, and the innkeeper chuckled. “I was a Silver rank adventurer once,” he said with a broad grin. “Leader of the Titans of Twinwater! Vivi even worked with me for a little while, back when the team was first put together…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “A couple decades back, I had to deal with a serial killer that terrorized the town of Elmshade - that’s a small town about 6 days from here. Bastard ripped people apart and ate them! Well, I wasn’t exactly a rookie at that point, and I knew almost immediately what we were dealing with; a rogue werewolf that left the Bleakwood in search of prey.”
The innkeeper took a deep drink from a stein of his own before locking eyes with Lucas again. “Had to work with a werewolf hunter to track that fellow down. He taught me an awful lot about lycanthropes - and those that hunt them. Made it pretty easy to see that you were both.” He smirked, adding “The silver chains were pretty obvious, too.”
Lucas blushed, choosing to take a deep drink from the pint of ale in front of him rather than speak. Lucy slid into the seat next to his, holding two drinks in each hand. Handing him a second mug, she smiled up at him. “Fancy a drinking contest?” She said with a sly smile.
“Don’t let her get drunk,” Monika warned as she ordered a cup of tea. “The last time she overindulged, she tried to convince the whole bar to pledge their eternal souls to the fey.”
“It was Lady Titania, Queen of the Fey” Lucy said with a pout, “and she wouldn’t do anything bad with them!”
Lucas chuckled. “Are there any perks to serving the Fey Queen?” he asked jokingly. “Vast magical powers? Fey servants of your own?”
“Only if you actually do well,” the elf replied, her sly smile slipping back into place. “Don’t ask for nymphs, though. She has a weird sense of humor, and turned the last guy who asked for that into a satyr so he could chase nymphs all day.”
“Does she accept werewolves?”
Lucy grinned wider, leaning in towards him. “Oh she’d love to have someone like you, I’m sure!” something about the way she said it made Lucas blush - though that also may have been due to the third pint of ale he was almost done with.
Jubel tried to stifle a laugh as he watched his muscular friend fumble his way through the conversation with the beautiful elf. A small part of him was briefly jealous, as he idly eyed the seductive archer’s well defined curves, but he shook off the immature impulse. His uncle had only ever given him a single piece of serious advice in his entire life, and he planned to heed it.
Beware of seductive madwomen.
That might’ve been a bit harsh, he supposed, but she was trying to induct Lucas into some sort of fey cult, so he’d rather play it safe. Besides which, he wasn’t eager to get into a relationship just yet. He knew his family. They might take awhile to find him, but when they did…
It was better not to make anyone else a target. He’d either figure out a way to deal with them, or a safe place to hide, but until then, he couldn’t risk drawing their attention to anyone else.
Even if I’d prefer otherwise.
His eyes shifted towards Vivi for a moment as she tried in vain to outdrink Ferris and Andrew.
The half elf sat down next to Damaia and shook his head, gesturing around the room as laughter filled the air. Vivi had fallen over while trying to ‘gracefully’ bow out of her drinking contest, and nearly everyone - including her - had burst into laughter at the sight. “Adventurers,” he said with an exasperated shake of his head.
“Adventurers!” Damaia agreed with a cheerful smile, clanking her teacup against his mug of ale. She clearly meant something else altogether, but that only made him smile more. They each emptied their cups and flagged Andrew down for a refill.
The adventurers drank long into the night, swapping stories and trying to one up each other. It was loud, chaotic, and bizarre.
In other words, it was perfect.