Dozens of people crowded the doorway and fields, all shoving to get inside.
Ryder and Durge stared at the mass of people trying to enter; they were all so varied in looks and equipment, it reminded Ryder of the Locrian harbors. Many adventurers donned either hide, chainmail, or steel plate armor.
Durge noticed the weapons everyone was carrying; swords, axes, shields, maces, and bows were a common sight, but he did see staffs in the mix as well.
“I get what you mean by feeling out of place now,” Durge said.
“I’m just glad we’re not carrying pitchforks and spades into here,” Ryder said.
The duo shuffled, pushed, and slid through the clamoring crowds, eventually reaching the interior of the Hall again. Inside it was filled to the brim, everyone was yelling and crowding around the quest board.
Ryder could see four clerks at the front counter processing the quests being shoved in their faces, Rose included. He noticed a tall and elegant man behind the clerks, who seemed to be gazing over the crowds and eyeing the processing work.
“I can’t even see the fucking board!” Durge exclaimed, standing on his toes.
“We’ll just have to get in there and grab one!” Ryder said.
The duo threw themselves into the crowd, and after pushing their way through again, they saw the yellow parchments tacked to the board. Hundreds of flyers were posted and dozens of hands were tearing them from the wall.
Durge saw big letters at the top of each sheet describing the quest type and a large number at the bottom dictating the reward amount.
He had a clear view and was able to reach a quest notice but he spotted a small line that said Rank Threshold: COPPER, before he was pulled back.
Ryder spoke into Durge’s ear, “We’ll never be able to get a quest that’s in our rank like this! Let’s wait until it calms down!”
They took a few steps back to watch the crowd at the board get thinner. The tables behind them were full of people commanding and holding up their quests, shouts ranged from, “Selling a Silver Succoring quest!” to “Recruiting for a Bronze Slayin’!”
Ryder looked at Rose, she was still swamped with processing duties.
“What if there’s none left?” Durge asked.
“We can always barter and try to get one, plus I would assume that no one would accept a Clay-ranked quest. They’re probably all low-reward and really easy, like shopping for the elderly or helping farmers.”
“By the gods, I hope not,” Durge muttered.
Over time, the crowd shrank as the board grew bare, Durge would try numerous times to grab a quest, but it was always snagged before he could reach it. When another wave of people came, it was hopeless.
The entire ordeal reminded Durge of the large livestock auctions in Locria, but this ordeal in particular left him bruised and battered. He gave up trying to get a quest.
“Damn it all! Let’s just see if someone is willing to take us in,” Durge panted.
Ryder hated the idea but he knew there was no other way. So they ventured from table to table offering their services, they were either being completely ignored or called a variety of nicknames such as “peasant”, “pumpkin”, “oats”, or “hayseed.”
The last quest was grabbed by the time they were turned away from every party. Durge looked glum and exhausted while Ryder was staring at the last person smiling joyously at the parchment in their hands.
“Look at how cocky he is. He’s young, has a sword on his hip, wearing armor, what an asshole,” Durge said, gripping the pommel of his shortsword.
“Mmhm,” Ryder hummed, looking at the man’s equipment.
The man was fairly average in terms of a competent adventurer, wearing a gambeson and gauntlets, but Ryder noticed that the man’s armored boots were a dull gold color. He stared at his feet and laughed at the absurdity of it until he saw the man step on a piece of partly-torn parchment on the ground.
Ryder immediately leaped to the floor to secure the paper.
The gold-booted man was startled and quickly approached his own group, eyeing the stranger who almost tackled him.
Ryder held the paper close to his chest with a big smile, “I don’t even care who you are, I’m just happy to hold you,” he whispered to the quest.
Durge gave him a hand up, “What’s it say?”
Ryder held it in his chest still and closed his eyes, “May the divine family bless us.”
When he revealed the boot-printed quest, they were immediately drawn to the significant words at the top and bottom that said Dungeoneering Quest and REWARD: 35 Gold.
They quickly scanned for the rank threshold. Durge pointed it out as it read Rank Threshold: CLAY
They both looked at one other, high-fived, and pulled each other into a great shoulder hug.
Ryder felt tears form at the corners of his eyes but distracted himself by scanning the quest over and over. It gave a simple description of what the task was, Ryder thought it was easy enough.
“I’m going to go tell Rose about our quest! You read over it,” Ryder said, before running off.
Durge looked confused but slowly read the quest description while sitting at one of the tables. He wasn’t the fastest reader nor the most literate, but after two decades and a year of experience, he knew well enough to get around.
“Lost book at Rock Hollow ruins. Plain leather cover with the initials F.C. The contents of the book contain information on the Unyielding mage ‘Arkao’. Please return the manuscript undamaged. Time frame—”
A pale finger with long nails pointed at the time limit of Durge’s quest. The feminine voice spoke in a rich and captivating tone. “Two months is plenty of time to complete the quest, the patron must not be in a rush. Don’t you think?”
“Is it usually chaotic like this? Ryder asked.
“Every day,” Rose smiled.
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“I didn’t expect it to be this bad… but I acquired a quest!”
Rose’s eyes sparkled, “What did you pick? Bring it over here and I’ll make you the Party Leader.”
“Party Leader?”
Rose nodded, “If you’re the party leader you get to decide who you will share the reward and glory with- for our ranking system.”
Ryder turned around to walk over to Durge but was pulled by his hand.
Rose was reaching over the counter, “What quest is it?”
The back of Ryder’s neck was sweating and his cheeks turned red, “It’s just a book retrieval in some ruins nearby, the pay is okay but I’m happy for any—”
Rose hopped from her chair, her eyes gleaming, “That’s the perfect quest for beginners! I was really worried you picked a difficult one and I was going to have to deny you… but I’m glad you didn’t!”
“Heh, yeah,” Ryder muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.
Rose’s expression brightened, “And you have a Brass-Ranked adventurer to show you the ropes too!”
“What?” Ryder looked over his shoulder, his eyes widened when he saw the familiar woman.
The mage hovered over Durge, more clothed in black and purple-trimmed robes than the last time Ryder saw her. She rested her tattooed hand on Durge’s shoulder; her large-brimmed dark purple wizard hat covered her eyes.
Ryder sprinted to where Durge sat, ripping Rose’s hand away in the process.
The mage saw Ryder coming and bit her lip.
Ryder grew bright red just like before.
“I’d be delighted to join you all,” she said. “I have a lot of experience, especially when it comes to first-timers.”
If it was brighter in the Hall, steam could be seen floating off of Ryder and Durge.
“I’ll go take the quest and register us,” she winked and walked steadily to the counter. Her robe was slitted at the side, revealing her bare legs and thighs as she strolled.
“She’s a goddess,” Durge said.
Ryder took a moment to find words, “She’s the one I saw at the bathhouse.”
Durge’s mouth was ajar, drool formed on the rustic table.
They ogled at the mysterious mage as she talked with Rose.
Their trance was broken when they saw another man approach the scantily-clad woman.
“Wait wait, who’s the hunk?” Durge asked.
The man was tall, muscular, and wore full plate armor without a helmet. His hair was short but peaked towards the front like an incoming tidal wave. He also carried three large bags that slumped over his shoulders.
Ryder couldn’t hear what the man was saying to their newly-found goddess but it seemed the man was screaming in her face and pushing her.
Durge was the first to spring up and walk over. With his ears closer and focused on their conversation, Durge heard the man say, “This has been our fourth quest in a row! Even the divine don’t know what you’re searching for, Sindara!” the man turned around, “And who the fuck are these guys!?”
She pondered over the two for a moment, “Our packmules.”
The man dropped his bags on the floor and groaned, stretching his back.
Ryder and Durge looked at each other and then at the bags at their feet.
“We’re done here, Hadic,” Sindara said, walking towards the exit.
Hadic followed.
“I have you both signed to the quest, but she will be the party leader,” Rose said.
The duo was in shock, bags lay at their feet and their dreams of being with the goddess were crushed.
“Hurry the fuck up!” Hadic yelled.
They huffed when they picked up the bags, it felt like loose oddities and stones were packed inside.
“Happy Exploring and fare well!” Rose said with her signature smile.
Stepping into the bright day, Ryder and Durge narrowly avoided being trampled by a stagecoach. The outside was just as chaotic as the inside of the Guild Hall, only this time, people were training in the fields and riding out of the city.
Training dummies were set for archers, warriors sparred with one another, and mages practiced their arts with accepting volunteers.
Ryder and Durge had to dodge the dangerous streets and the whips of drivers to catch up with Sindara and Hadic. Durge almost got run over if it wasn’t for Ryder pulling him back again.
“Move Hayseeds!” screamed a driver as he rode past.
They eventually caught up with their two leaders, expecting a horse or wagon to appear on every street corner they turned, but none materialized.
Durge stopped and groaned excessively, he dropped one of the bags and heaved.
“I’m dying over here, Rye. I can’t carry these two bags and my own rucksack, you carry it.”
Durge gave his backpack to Ryder. He now only carried two large bags and his sword, while Ryder carried his satchel, lantern, Durge’s rucksack, and one of Sindara’s packs.
Durge’s bags were heavier, but Ryder became tangled in the straps and harnesses of his own bags.
“If you need to fill up your skins, do it now,” Hadic said, stopping near a well.
Durge dropped the bags and refilled both his and Ryder’s waterskin.
“Where is this shithole, again?” Hadic asked.
“Rock Hollow. It’s four days from here,” Sindara said.
Durge mouthed to Ryder, “Four days!?”
Ryder held a grimaced face, regretting ever finding that fallen quest.
The party continued walking southward to the gate Ryder and Durge originally entered.
“If we sell your useless trinkets then we can buy a fucking horse, Sin,” Hadic said.
“No! I’ve told you hundreds of times that I need those,” Sindara yelled.
Durge and Ryder whispered in the back of the line to break the monotony.
“We didn’t buy camping gear,” Ryder hung his head.
“Oh whatever, keep smacking your jaw. We’ve slept under trees before and we’ll do it again. We should retire or run off on this right now before we’re stuck in the wilderness with them,” Durge suggested.
“We’ll get kicked out of the Hall immediately if we fail our first quest! We’ll get de-ranked on the first step! The rank ‘Mud’ will exist because of us if we fail this!”
“And this is supposed to be an easy quest?” Durge asked.
“Yes, it’s just the travel that’s unpleasant. I’m sure once we get there”—Ryder gulped—“in four days, then it’ll be easy. This feels like a quest you would do as a hobby. As if someone is supposed to be already heading south and they do this if they happen to be near it.”
“Shut up back there!” Sindara exclaimed.
The party ventured forth and out of the city gates. Ryder eyed for the hanged town crier but someone must have complained about the stench. The gates were calmer than the first time the duo entered, people casually strolled or rode out of Maria.
For the first time, Durge noticed the city guards on patrol and peering from the ramparts. All of them had crossbows rested on their forearms. Their outfits looked unusual as none of them had a unified dress code or wore the state’s crest.
The summer sun was hot and the humidity from the morning’s rain made it sticky and gruesome. Sindara or Hadic never spoke to Ryder or Durge on the road, except to bark commands, so they kept a few steps behind to talk with one another when the time arose.
“If we keep walking on the road we might be able to find Kincaid,” Ryder said somberly.
Durge sighed, “All of those people rushed out of Maria, he might’ve escorted those people back to Locria or to fend off looters.”
“How do you know that?” Ryder asked.
“I don’t, Ryder. He could have his muzzle down in the dirt with arrows protruding out of him for—”
Ryder violently shoved Durge, “How dare you speak of him like that!” he yelled. His eyes welled up with tears.
“What the fuck is going on back there!” Hadic yelled.
“Stay out of it, dickhead!” Durge said. “I know it’s tough on you and I’m sorry, but you have to let him go. Just think about your tasks and the steps in front of you, it’ll get easier.”
Ryder turned away and wiped the tears from his face. “Easy for you to say. You don’t give a shit about anyone,” he said under his breath as he walked ahead.
“Like I have a choice! It feels like I’m either slaving away or burying my loved ones constantly in my life!” Durge paused as Ryder kept on walking, “I knew Kincaid too!” he exclaimed.
Surprisingly, Hadic never spoke about the outcry, though muffled laughter could be heard at the front of the group. At the back of the line, the bags Durge carried felt heavier on his shoulders, it felt like they were sinking him into the red clay below with every step.
Ryder continued his pace in the middle of the line, taking frequent sips of his waterskin.
The early afternoon went and dinner time approached, Durge’s stomach grumbled and all he could think about was the dried meat and bread in the bag Ryder was carrying. He knew precisely what pocket it was in, but had the difficult choice of either breaking the grueling silence with his compatriot or risk failing to sneak and pickpocket food from his own bag.
Although he weighed about 300 sacks of grain and was exhausted, Durge carefully snuck up behind Ryder. He couldn’t hear his footfalls or his breath, for all that he had on his mind was the vanquishment of his hunger.
Durge matched his gait with Ryder, simultaneously they were one pair of footsteps. Next, Durge reached out and carefully lifted the covering of the pocket. His fingertips felt the pillowy and flakey bread, and he smelled his desires. When he reached to grasp it, Ryder stopped.
While dead in his tracks, a wave of force was suddenly pushed into him and he fell to the ground face-first. Durge landed on Ryder as a cushion, the bags tumbling as well. The duo grumbled and groaned and gathered themselves until they heard footsteps quickly approaching.
Upon hearing the ruckus, Sindara turned around and hastily went over to them. She inspected the bags first before screaming, “You drop them one more time, and I’ll drop you!” She was hovering over Durge, her tattoos moved and crept along her arms like swirling oil that eventually joined her pupils.
Ryder slowly inched for the dagger in his boot, but he froze when a sword tapped under his chin.