Power comes in many forms. Sometimes brute strength was the simplest and most blunt. Political influence, riches, social ties, hidden secrets… all rather arbitrary when it came to the chopping block. Even the most scheming human aristocrat, with a legion of servants, more money than sense, and the ear of the local ruler, did not have a Rank designation. Ranking was a pure unabated line that didn’t hide its intention. You earned the abilities it granted through bloodshed, trauma, and showing that you had the power to overcome adversity. For to fail meant death.

My feet were weary as we pushed into the Guildhall. It had been a long day of far too much walking. We would need to invest in transport - I think I might have said that three times to Basil as I complained the rest of the journey.

The interior of the building was a welcome respite. The weather, having bothered me with sunshine in the early hours of the day, had relented and drizzled rain upon us the closer we got to the town. If I didn’t know any better, I would have assumed there was some kind of curse on the drab locale. It could be possible…

Jakob had made an almost full recovery from his sickness, the occasional healing from Basil gradually helping to the point of him not wanting to empty bile every half mile. Florence had been pretty morose; although there was excitement beneath each of our respective surfaces, there was also trepidation about the step we were about to embark on.

“Hail,” I raised my hand to the clerk - the same young man looking disinterested behind the desk as yesterday. “Apologies, I didn’t catch your name previously.”

“Clint.” He wrinkled his face up, perhaps hoping to remain unknown further than just being the current face of the Guild here.

“Well, Clint,” I beamed and gestured for Florence to move forward, “I’m not sure how this thing usually works - but to save us from dramatically rolling a decapitated head across your desk, we have evidence of Quest completion.”

The Mage placed the soggy hessian sack on the edge of the counter, trying not to let any respective juices mar any of the paperwork spread around messily.

“Ah!” He shuffled backward on his chair. “I appreciate your… uh, discretion?” He stood and awkwardly bowed. Apparently, our success was either unprecedented, or he truly forgot how the rest of his job was supposed to go. Probably both.

He turned to leave, with a knock on a back room door behind the counter.

I raised my eyebrows up at Basil, and he returned a warm smile. Our first step on the weird road. I hadn’t broken bad yet or eaten anyone - although, it was technically only day two, so I shouldn’t count chickens.

The door cracked open a bit, and Clint murmured something to the occupant. A brief back and forth before he stood back, and the door opened fully. From within, a slim woman with short black hair and pointed ears came out. Her long robes of dark grey had a decorated hem of red and black alternating diamonds. She regarded us from behind small round spectacles, which had the added effect of allowing her to look down her nose at us.

I gave a half bow. Although it was generally beneath me to prostrate myself before mortals, in my new role, it seemed polite to be on the good side of the ones in charge of approving my increases in power. You never knew when it would come back to help you in the end, and it turned out I was apparently open to accepting all sorts of hands these days.

“You are the four who have completed this Quest?” Her tone came off as judgemental, but then as an elf, it was often hard to tell. It could have just been a little bit of clarification - this was a formal process, after all.

“Yes, us four.” I nodded.

She extended a slender arm from beneath her robe and held it out for the bag, which Florence handed over. The elf opened it up and jostled it side to side to try and get the lighting in there. “The Alchemist… Frank? Correct?”

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“That’s correct,” Clint nodded, catching her glare as the question was leveled towards me.

“Fourteen homunculi, too - if that counts for anything,” I smiled.

“It doesn’t.” She handed the bag to the young man and gestured with her finger to follow her back into the room.

Quietly, we did so. With a sheepish grin at Clint, who didn’t seem to be fond of holding the bag, I led the way into the office.

Cupboards and shelving filled most walls, a slightly warmer brown to the wood, a contrast to the usual drab furnishings of the town. A writing desk with a single chair was at the nearest end, and then a larger group table was at the other.

“Please sit.” Her long fingers gestured to the table.

I shuffled awkwardly into the bench seat, my bulky figure not intended to be comfortable in this kind of small furniture. The rest of the Party followed suit, with Basil sitting beside me and Florence opposite me.

Standing at the end of the table, the woman folded her arms. “I am Guidmaster Kristine. It has been some manner of months since we have been able to offer F Rank to any group of adventurers.”

That seemed like a long time; there must be a story there we weren’t yet privy to.

“However, in light of your successful Quest, I am pleased to offer you the respective Badges for the Classes you signed up for at registration.” A humorless smile crossed her face, the most emotion she had shown us since her appearance.

“Indeed,” she continued, “when I first read the paperwork, I was intrigued.” She turned her gaze towards me, and something akin to a lump did a little jump in my stomach.

Was the ruse up? Had Basil put something on my form that gave rise to knowledge about my true form? I didn’t particularly relish the idea of having to jump up and slaughter everyone in the room. Basil included if he had ruined the challenge on day one.

“But still,” she gave a gentle nod, “now that I have seen you in person, I can understand why you chose the Barbarian path.”

Barbarian.

I wasn’t angry at Basil. In fact - I was rather apathetic to it. Fighter had made sense at the time. After all, I had the natural strength and melee prowess - what better than for a Hero to be a legendary Fighter? Barbarians weren’t what you thought of when the word Hero came to mind… but in a way, it made even more sense.

My head nodded, and I smiled, noticing Basil giving me a side-eye. A discussion for later.

Florence and Jakob also looked at me with confusion. It didn’t change much in the short term - I was still the big meaty guy in the front swinging a weapon around like I was overcompensating for something. Now I’d just be doing it while a little… angrier. I understood why he did it. This was a way to curb my bloodshed, a channel for my true self to unleash a little without having to resort to turning on those who didn’t deserve it. Whether this would quell the urges, or empower them, was a gamble he seemed willing to make for me.

He could just be tipping the scales to make things more difficult.

While I rolled around in my inner monologue, the elf had retrieved a box from one of the many cupboards. She placed the plain rectangle on the table and popped the lid. From within, she withdrew round disks, no more than an inch and a half in size. Made of a metal akin to tarnished gold, they glistened in the lantern light. One after another, she picked a select four, then closed the lid.

“Be sure to understand that in taking up the F Rank, there is a weight that comes along with the granted abilities. You are expected to seek out evil and destroy it.” Her eye twitched. Some manner of past trauma haunted her words.

“Clint will have a selection of Quests for you to embark on… the local area has been especially rife as of late, and in clearing out some of the evil, you will soon work towards your E Ranks.”

That seemed simple but never that easy. The Ranking process still lay in her slender fingers, and here she was, dangling the carrot of the next Rank. Without further lecture, she walked around the table and placed one of these coin-shaped badges before each of us. Ranger, Mage, Barbarian, and Cleric.

“If you accept your fate and wish to continue this route, place the badge across your heart and declare your intention to become a Hero.”

I watched as Florence was the first to grab at the Badge and place it against her chest. “I will become a Hero.” She gasped, and her eyes went wide, and as her hand fell away, it was now empty.

Jakob and then Basil followed suit. I watched as my once butler absorbed the Badge, his face a blank mask of impassive reflection. Now all eyes were left on me.

I took up the small round shape. It was flat, much like a coin, and on one side had a symbol designating it to that of the Barbarian path. The other side was blank, but I could feel latent magical power residing within it.

With the room as my captive audience, I placed it against my chest.

“I will become a Hero.” I let the words echo in my head. Was it really me saying them?

As my hand withdrew, the coin vanished, and a warm glow filled me as I became aware of my new abilities. I looked amongst my Party to see their expressions - jubilant and disbelief, aside from Basil, who just looked content.

F Rank… but was I supposed to be burning with agony where the Badge had been absorbed?