“… attention all passengers. We will soon be arriving at our destination. Please be sure to check all baggage for arrival, and ensure no items are misplaced before departure. We repeat…”
Pointed ears twitched as the intercom buzzed with a message, a head almost concealed by a large hat glancing about among the crowded space.
What looked like any ordinary café lounge, previously filled by idle conversation from its many denizens, was now filled with activity as people rose from their seats. Many picked up luggage near them, others hurried to finish their meals or down drinks. And others made way towards the large glass panels that allowed the bright light of the afternoon to come in.
“We’re almost there!” Feeling a rush of excitement, pointed ears bouncing again, the sole occupant of one of the many tables rose from her seat to join the crowd.
A red mantle flared as the girl approached the glass, casting light over her features as she found a spot right at the front. Her features appeared youthful, almost ethereal in nature, with the almost parchment white skin of one more prone to indoor study than outdoor ventures. Emerald green hair spilled from beneath the large, pointed cap atop her head, a messy fringe creating a natural frame around dark violet eyes.
A smile split her thin lips as she joined the crowd looking out from the large windows, hands covered in half-gloves eagerly pressing to the glass so she could take as close a look as possible. Her luggage thudded to the ground next to her, rattling the folded up, gem-topped staff atop the bag.
Stretching out underneath the crowd was the vast, deep blue ocean, rolling about into crests of waves. And beyond the open sea rose a massive, shining city.
The visible docks teaming with sea ships coming and going from below and rising up from other areas of the gigantic port being other ships that carried into the air to either depart along the ocean or over the buildings of the city itself.
From the port stretched the miles and miles of structures to follow; towering high-rises that glimmered from the polished glass marking their varied constructions, to the stretch beyond of smaller buildings of varying purpose, and even further out along the stretches of road and highway leading out of it to various industrial buildings and plots.
“Wow!” The girl let out in sheer amazement. “It’s so different from the cities in Vanira.”
“First time seeing a Lagunan city? Thought I recognized that amazed expression. Another Alf caught by wanderlust, eh?”
The Alf turned at the voice that spoke, spotting a young man approaching her from behind.
His features hinted towards a half-Alf. Nearly as slim of features and body as herself, yet with that extra bit of sturdiness to hint at another line of descent, alongside the short, pointed ears poking out from between his messy locks of bluish-black hair.
She’d dare say the young man was quite the striking sort, almost textbook in looking as if he could be some young fair-faced hero on the rise yet bearing the same almost unnaturally pale skin as she despite clearly looking far more well-traveled telling by the faded scar marking his right cheek bone and nicked left eyebrow.
The heavy, dark blue coat he wore gave the light sounds of shifting metal alongside the rest of his attire, equipment light enough not to impede movement yet sturdy enough to take more than a few blows from something. The weapon hanging from his back told of plenty, the curved grip of some kind of sword peeking out from above his right shoulder.
Yet what stood out to the Alf girl the most were his eyes. They were a shade of crystalline blue she had only ever seen once before in her life. Bright, clear like a gemstone, and one could almost swear those irises shifted and flowed as if they were made of water.
“Ah, well…” The Alf’s face flushed a bit as she caught herself staring, the young man chuckling. “Indeed, it is my first time leaving the forests. But what was it from my expression alone that told you of such a thing?”
“Mentioning Vanira for one,” remarked the young man, “But make enough trips to and from this place, and you see faces like that a lot. First timers ain’t hard to pick out of a crowd. And you, Miss Alf, were making the exact textbook expression of a newcomer to our fair city by the sea.”
“So…” The Alf took a moment to scan over the young man’s equipment again. It made his profession all too obvious. Gear clearly made for rugged outings and potential combat, the pack slung over a shoulder, and the various pouches visible on the belts under his jacket and around his waist. “That would make you a Freelancer, wouldn’t it?”
“Ahaha, the profession that obvious, is it?”
“Well, not everyone casually walks around in light armor with a weapon on their waist.”
“Says the little lady with a folded-up staff on top of her luggage,” the young man’s snark earned him an amused smirk from the Alf, who chuckled as she picked her items up. “Meaning you didn’t up and leave the forests for no reason at all, especially if you picked a rowdy place like Laguna to come to first.”
“If you’re looking for a job offer, unfortunately I’m not a future client,” chuckled the Alf, turning back to the window as the vessel began to lower. “Though… I do have plenty of reason to be here, if you must know.”
“I see,” said the Freelancer, “Well then, how would the newcomer like a guide to the fair city. Free of charge of course, I doubt you need a bodyguard.”
“Ohh? Is the dashing young Freelancer trying to impress the Alf lass he just met?” She said, earning a laugh from her conversation partner. “Hmm… though a guide to my destination would be helpful. I mean I could just use a guide spell but…”
“You’re worried that kind of spell would just get you mixed up, right?”
“Ahem, a bit. I’d rather not risk getting lost in a city I’m unfamiliar with,” the Alf admitted, the Freelancer humming.
“Makes sense,” said the Freelancer, and as the ship rocked a bit from landing, causing eyes to turn forward once more as it made landfall at the port, he chuckled again. “Let me give you a proper welcome, Miss Alf, to Clearharbor: Laguna’s Jewel of the Sea.”
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If the Alf had thought the view of the city from an airship was something impressive, seeing how towering it truly was as she left from the port with her newfound companion truly put into perspective the kind of place it was.
The way the buildings towered leagues above her, only surpassed by the traffic of coming and going airships, to how once on the ground even the horizon seemed lost by the stretch of urban infrastructure that overtook her vision.
And all around them, wandering the stalls of the port market or making their way further in were people of all kinds. People of all heights, sizes, and shapes. Some who towered over the crowd, those small enough to vanish within it as soon as you took your eyes off them. Skin tones from pale peach, chocolate brown, to exotic greens or ashen tones, even a few in red or blue and more.
“So many kinds of people…” breathed the Alf, “Definitely different from Vanira.”
“Well Laguna is a trade city after all,” the Freelancer chuckled. “You get people from across the world in places like this. Freelancers like me, merchants, trade-workers, airship crews, business-folk, so on and so forth. If there’s a vocation, you’ll find someone who does it here in this city.”
“Clearly. So… where is it I’ll be finding my destination?”
“Well, that depends on where your destination is,” With that remark, the Freelancer stepped off, waving for the Alf to follow him. He led her first to a large board within the market area, one flashing with many a digital sign as people milled around it and browsed its content. The main section of the large board was a detailed map of the city itself, a glowing segment marking the docks district the port was found at.
With a quick motion, the Freelancer drew an object from his pocket, slotting it into one of the open ports of the board frontal kiosk. The front side of the object flashed for a few seconds before the Freelancer withdrew it, a holographic screen appearing above its front as he tapped it with a thumb. When he caught his Alf companion staring, he chuckled and pocketed the item.
“Never seen a Deck before?”
“I mean I’ve seen them,” answered the Alf, “But never so close. We don’t use those devices in Vanira.”
“Well, if you’re gonna be spending time in Laguna, you might want to get ahold of one,” said her companion, the Alf humming as she looked back to the board. “So, where are you looking to go?”
“Uhm… wherever the Freelancer halls are,” The Alf sighed as her companion gained a smarmy look, earning another clear of her throat. “As you’ve perhaps surmised, I left the woods for some… particular reasons. Reasons that involve joining the Freelancers. I was told by… a family member it was the best path to find what I was looking for.”
“Looking for something eh?” The Freelancer hummed. “As good a reason to become one as any really. Well then. That means you’re gonna want to head to…” he raised a hand to the map, scrolling along it until he reached a district further into the city, “right here: the oh so creatively named Guild District.”
“Couldn’t have done something fancy huh?” The Alf mused.
“Most of the districts here are similarly named. Practicality over being fancy is the way of Clearharbor… and Dynoriaths in general really,” The Freelancer set his Deck into the board again, the Alf watching as its screen updated with a copy of the map, now displaying a route that would get them to the Guild District. “Simple as. Like I said, you’re gonna want to get one of these things. Used for all kinds of reasons in cities like this.”
“Noted,” the Alf hefted her bag across her shoulder, adjusting her hat as well, “So, shall we be off then?”
“Just follow me.”
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As the two made their way from the port district, the Alf could only awe as she took in the site of the city around them with every road they traveled down and crossing they went through at each intersection or crossing point.
Aside from almost feeling swallowed by the towering buildings – yet still never losing a clear view of the sky – she yet again spent her time taking in the numerous people around her. Despite having spent all her life until now in the much more homogenous forest cities of her homeland, she was at least aware of the numerous other kinds of people that populated their world, but she had so rarely seen them in person. But now they were seemingly just everywhere.
Much of the crowd were Dynoriaths, unsurprisingly considering since Laguna was one of such folk’s native regions on the continent. One would only expect most of the people to be such. More average in height, skin from pale to dark, duller hair colors of browns to reds, though some cases such as the Freelancer showed more exotic colors likely due to some traces of non-Dynor blood in their family line. It was commonplace enough. The Alf had long heard the phrase “No such thing as a typical Dynor” before, and it seemed to ring true with how varied the ones she saw in the crowd were.
And of course, though, there was far more kinds of people to be found within. The Alf spotted a few individuals bearing the same half-Alf traits as her guide here and there. And even mixed in, a few Alfs such as herself milling about. Some people towered over the crowd, be them the red-haired Vulcans of the northern end of the continent; the squat, hardy Dwarves; short Halflings or Gnomes darting between the crowd. And some more exotic peoples she had only ever read about yet never seen.
An Orc here and there, the occasional Beast-folk that ranged from feline or lupine in form, and even more. She even saw at least a few people bearing horns in the crowd, their skin tones far more exotic shades of crimson, with long tails swishing about as they walked.
“Even Kólasi? I’d always heard they’re hardly seen outside the Rubicon,” she said, her guide chuckling as he gave a nod.
“You can find a little bit of everything here in Clearharbor,” the Freelancer remarked, looking across the roads to the vehicles rumbling by, or upwards to the various creatures darting through the air alongside the sudden rumble of a suspended cable car. Some people were on balconies managing things or chatting with their neighbors. The sheer degree of activity was almost overwhelming to see.
“It’s all so… lively!” The Alf commented, the Freelancer chuckling again.
“You get used to it the longer you’re here. The commotion just becomes second nature to living in a place like this when you spend enough time in them.”
Suddenly from ahead of them, a commotion started heading their way, a shouting crowd amid the pedestrians, and uniformed officers at the head of it warding people off from passing a holographic line that had been formed in front of a building.
“Though it’s also not always peaceful,” the Freelancer noted, beginning to shoulder his way through the crowd. The Alf paused for a moment, then following her guide as he got closer to the line.
“Hold up there!” A tall, burly Orcish officer shouted as the Freelancer approached. “The area’s been blocked off for now, so you and your friend need to…”
“Relax, I’m a Freelancer,” said the half-Alf, drawing his deck and flashing its front as the screen flashed over to an identification card. “I’m authorized to help law enforcement at times like this. What’s going on?”
“Lemme see…” the officer squinted as he looked at the ID screen, blinking a few times as if he were surprised. “Freaking hell, an HR? What the hell are you doing wandering around town in the middle of the day?”
“Just got back from a job in Vanira, but that’s idle chatter for later. Details,” The Freelancer’s tone was direct and even a bit commanding. Clearly whatever system there was to all of this, he had something over the officer that let him act in such a way. As far as the Alf knew, Freelancers did hold a certain level of authority within the legal system.
Admittedly what she had heard was mostly the ways Freelancers could work outside of the law but that wasn’t incredibly concerning at the moment.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“We got word about some illegal smuggling comin’ out of this place,” the officer turned to the building, folding his arms. “From the reports, it’s some experimental Drake that came outta the Sorcerer’s College.”
“But every experiment done in the College is tightly controlled!” Said the Alf, “How would anything get smuggled out?”
“You’d be surprised what some people manage to sneak out under watchful eyes,” The officer remarked. “Apparently this Drake is holed up in the depths of the building. Guess whoever was running it through was fronting the thing through this place, only for the blasted thing to wake up. For now…”
The officer was cut off when the ground rumbled, part of the road before the building began to seize. With the scream of metal and the crack of asphalt, from the ground burst a draconic creature with body of dull-silver scales above black skin, more like plating than proper scaling.
As the creature, a Drake, burst from the ground, it loosed a roar as it’s four trunk-like legs scrambled to dig into the road, its tail sweeping the street as it turned towards the crowd. Shrieking with another shrill roar, the Drake turned and leaped further down the road, clutching to the buildings as it bounded off.
“Gagh, damned by the Concepts!” The Officer cursed, grabbing his own Deck from his belt and raising it to his mouth.
“Leave the Drake to me,” said the Freelancer, tapping the officer on the arm, “Call people in to keep civilians safe, and set up wards across the streets here.”
“You’re gonna go after that thing yourself?!” The officer yelped.
“What do you think I just got done with?”
As he took off, the Freelancer drew the blade at his back, part of the sheathe sliding open to allow the full weapon to be drawn forth. The Alf didn’t quite recognize what kind of sword it was as the Freelancer gripped the curved handle, part of which wrapped around into a sizable knuckle guard before a trigger.
All she knew was that it was clearly a magitech weapon. Following the grip came a segment housing a metallic structure, the glow of an internal crystal rising as short exhaust ports from the structure flared with blue light. The blade that made up the rest of the weapon bore a single edge, the shape of the tool sleek and smooth, primarily black and highlighted in panels of white and edges of silver.
The Alf wouldn’t call it anything short of elegant in form.
“Wind to my side!” With a wave of the Freelancer’s free hand, swirls of air gathered around his legs. And the next step he took, the air burst outwards as he rocketed forwards, moving like a fierce gale after the Drake as it charged down the street.
“I’m going after it too!” The Alf slung her bag across her shoulder as she took off, pulling her folded staff out and flicking it out. The wooden rod snapped into place as the emerald atop it gleamed with light, bringing the full, gleaming silver tool to proper form as the blue, feather-shaped ornamentation cupping the gem shifted downwards to fully reveal the gem to the air. Spinning the staff around and taking a seat atop it as wind swirled across its haft, the tool lifted into the air, carrying the Alf along and after the Freelancer and his quarry.
“Who in the hell did we just run into?” The officer wondered, adjusting his cap as the rest of his unit scrambled again. “Gagh, whatever! Do what the Freelancer said and get wards up! We’ll get backup to make sure that Drake doesn’t do any more damage than it already has!”
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As the Drake charged its way down the streets, bounding across the sides of buildings and darting away past corners, it seemed as if the city itself responded to its attempts to cause chaos. Buildings became guarded by wards that flashed in hexagonal panels each time it impacted them, vehicles adjusted as the streets too shifted. Panels opened along the sides of each lane, the Drake crashing down onto a nigh-invisible barrier when it tried to come down as those panels flashed.
“And that’s the cue to let loose!” The Freelancer jumped to the air before the barrier finished forming his way, landing atop it as the Drake slammed its talons down trying to break the magical wall apart. “Don’t think so!”
The Drake spun around as the Freelancer threw a ball of fire at it, batting the weak spell aside with a swipe of its tail, its open maw burning red. A large ball of flame flew from the Drake’s jaws, rushing for the Freelancer. As the fireball neared, he took a swing with his sword, pulling the trigger at his index and middle fingers as he didn’t break stride. As light flashed from the exhaust ports and the swing was carried through, the blade cut right through the fireball as blue light flashed through the sword’s panels, severing it in one clean stroke.
Slamming his foot down and gripping the sword two handed, the Freelancer dashed forward as the Drake lashed one of its claws forward. As the blade came down to meet the claw, the trigger was pulled again. And the edge sang as it went crashing into the claw with a sudden burst of speed as it flashed once again. The Drake screamed as the claw was shattered by the blow, blood spraying from the broken appendage as it reared back.
Yet the Freelancer wasn’t letting his momentum go to waste. As his swing carried the sword downwards, he spun around and let the blade’s speed carry him through it. When the spin brought the blade back as the Drake lashed out with its tail, the air screaming as the blade-like tip of the tail slammed into the edge of the sword.
The two recoiled backwards from the blows, the Freelancer barely avoiding another swipe of the Drake’s claws as he flipped through the air.
As the Drake roared again, it was silenced by a conjoined blast of wind and fire slamming into it, sending the creature careening across the barrier with the scales on its left side smoldering. The Freelancer turned to the source, spotting the Alf dropping from the air. As she landed, her coat flaring as she rose, she twirled her staff around into a forward hold, aimed at the Drake as it rose back to its feet, snarling at the two.
“Figured you could use a hand,” said the Alf, giving the Freelancer a cheeky grin as he adjusted the grip on his blade. “Seen a few magitech swords in my time, but that one’s kinda new.”
“Chat for later,” The Freelancer said, lifting the blade to be level to his shoulders as he shifted into a ready stance. “Killing this thing comes first!”
“Aim for the scales just below its neck,” said the Alf, adjusting her staff to point it out as the Drake’s throat began to glow. “I know this type of Drake. Armaros types are meant to be physical fighters, but it leaves some scales weaker so they can move easier. The neck is a weak point, especially where the flames are generated.”
“So, they didn’t work that kink out, eh?” The Freelancer snickered, the two then diving as the Drake launched a larger fireball their way. “Then you keep on the spells so I can lay into it!”
“My specialty!” With a twirl of the Alf’s staff, swirls of water gathered around the glowing gem, loosing gouts of water as the Drake kept up the series of fireballs, filling the air with steam with each water ball she fired in counter to them. As the Drake then moved to charge through the steam, the staff began to spark with electricity. A thrust from the staff sent a bolt of lightning forth, cracking through the new cover of steam and right into the Drake.
As the Drake was left screeching from the electricity now coursing through its body, the Freelancer dashed through the still sparking mist, the wind enchantment still swirling around him casting the mist aside as the Drake tried to rear back around. The beast just managed to get a swing of its uninjured claws. And yet it hadn’t seemed to learn the lesson from last time of what the Freelancer’s blade could do to it, losing two claws this time as the blade ignited with azure flames. Steam flew from the edge as it hissed through the still damp air, once again being carried on its own momentum as the Freelancer took aim for the neck of the Drake.
The blade itself seemed to roar as its exhaust ports burst with light, the edge crashing into the scales of the neck at the radius of it, the blade flashing through with a burst of flame. As the Freelancer spun to the side, bringing himself to a stop with his sword trailing fire and steam, the Drake let out an attempt at a roar, only getting a messy gurgle as it lurched to the side, scant amounts of blood oozing through the few bits of the large cut in its neck that weren’t cauterized from the heat of the blade. With a dull thud, the Drake collapsed onto the barrier.
Once the brief pause of the end of the action passed, some of the civilians on the street began cheering out in excitement now that their bated breaths could be let loose. The Freelancer waved down to some of the people as they hollered congratulations up at him and the Alf, who gave her own wave as she twirled her staff around.
“You definitely aren’t some newbie,” The Freelancer chuckled, the Alf smiling as she adjusted her hat. “Not a lot of people are that good at swapping elements on the fly. Wind, fire, water, lightning… impressive.”
“Oh, you don’t know the half of it, Sir Freelancer,” the Alf chuckled, then looking down as she saw the police vehicles on approach. “And on time. That must be the cleanup crew.”
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Considering it would make for an issue if the body of the Drake were to just be dumped onto the road with the removal of the barriers, after the police arrived with necessary equipment to take the body away, the first step was getting it moved from the segment of the barriers left raised that it was on. Which proved quite easy thanks to the Alf, who’s wind magic proved strong enough for her to lift the Drake onto the waiting flat-bed for transportation.
Which of course afterwards meant she and the Freelancer had to help in filing the incident report with their summary of the encounter.
“Do these kinds of things always happen?” The Alf asked, handing back the tablet device she had been filling the form out on.
“The document filing, or the random Magic Beast popping out of the ground?” The Freelancer joked, finishing up his own filling in. The miffed look he got from the Alf brought a laugh out of him. “Clearhabor can get pretty hectic what with all the stuff that gets brought through here. A smuggled Magic Beast like a Drake getting loose is hardly unusual. Plus, not like you don’t have the occasional creature getting ahead of itself y’know? I know for a fact Vanira isn’t that peaceful.”
“Well… you’re not wrong,” with a sigh, the Alf turned back forwards as the officers departed to leave them to their business. “Now, I believe you were guiding me to the guilds so I could handle my business?”
“Ahahaha, that I did!” Pulling out his Deck and checking the map, the Freelancer let out a sigh. “That damn thing pulled us way to the side while chasing it down. But we’re closer anyway… just gotta go a different direction now.”
“Where did we even end up?” The Alf looked around, noting to herself while the district was still generally one of high rises, the buildings had a far less… business-like feeling to them. Neon signs were plastered all over the place, large ad-blaring imaging screens near more of them and at street corners. It set in rather quickly this had to be some kind of entertainment district… but she wasn’t sure what kind it even was. If it even mattered, really.
“Just one of a few entertainment districts,” the confirmation more or less eased the Alf’s feelings about it. “We’re not that far, believe it or not. The Guild District is basically just a few hops over. So, let’s make it quick, yeah?”
“After that I’d be happy to just hole up in a hotel for the rest of the day.”
“Haha, you might find a Guild Hall more fun of a rest stop.”
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If the Alf had been impressed with the varied architecture of the main city, as she and her escort finally arrived at the Guild District, her breath was taken away yet again as the roads turned them into an area that looked like an utter amalgam of different places all squished into a single location. Buildings in typical Dynor brick and mortar fashion, mixed in with Vulcan stone-carved masonry, ever recognizable to her Alfish nature-architecture causing branches and leaves to mix in with the hand-built structures, and more buildings of styles she didn’t recognize lining the district.
“So many different kinds of buildings!” said the Alf, the Freelancer laughing as he took the lead.
“Well, people do like their aesthetics. And it’s just no fun if every Guild Hall in the district follows some basic template. Not a single one of these places is the same, outside or in.”
“Makes sense. So… how does the Guild Hall thing even work? I kind of know the basics of how the Freelancer’s Guild operates, but the need for varied Guild Halls… somewhat eludes me.”
“Hmm, guess I can see that. Alright then, how about an explanation there?” The Freelancer stopped at a free bench along the walkways of the area, leaning against it as he produced his Deck. “Let’s cover the basics you know. You do know that, first off, the Freelancer Guilds are overseen by the Guild Association, correct?”
“Of course,” the Alf nodded, “The Guild Association is of course the grand oversight committee of the various guild organizations across the continent. While other places that count as Guilds are to a degree mostly independent, such as institutions like the Sorcerer’s College or Sword Saint Academy, the Association helps supply additional funding and resources these Guilds cannot acquire easily on their own. The heads of these Guilds as such are all members of the Association’s primary staff. The Freelancer’s Guild is one of many groups that are part of it, and the main body overseeing the wider organization would be the Grand Guild.”
“Correct,” The Freelancer angled his Deck’s screen so his companion could get a better look. It was displaying a tree-diagram with various organization emblems across it, showing the overall hierarchy of the Guild Association. “At the top of course, we have the Association itself. Further down you get those mentioned independent Guilds that then make up the grander scope of the organization. Further down from that you have the other sub-groups that follow after. Now, if the Freelancers are headed by the Grand Guild, what would you assume the Guild Halls are?”
“Hmm… they would be the sub-groups, yes?” The Alf got an affirming nod. “I see… so the different Halls are just smaller subsidiaries of the Grand Guild.”
“It gets a bit more complicated than that, depending on where you are,” noted the man, “Some of the Halls also associate with other Guilds that suit their intended operations. A Hall that hires Freelancers focused on economic aid would associate themselves with Trade Guilds to lend their help in caravans or investigating new opportunity zones to ensure their safety. Others like the Hall I work for are generalists, who take requests from all over and send us out to manage whatever those jobs may be.”
“Somewhat reminds me of the Recordkeepers back home,” commented the Alf, “It’s often that they get the aid of Freelancers to assist them in their archival tasks, usually in acquiring records from various ancient ruins… what can be salvaged in useable condition at the least. The remnants of the Ascian Empire are truly fascinating…”
“Ahhh, a scholar on the old era?” Mused the Freelancer, the Alf’s eyes going ahead to gleam.
“I mean why would I not find the Empire interesting?!” said she, obvious excitement in her voice. “The Ascians have been a mystery nigh ever since the beginning of the Modern Era, even before! The technology they left behind, even the very nature of their civilization! We know so little about them despite there being those in the world who are old enough they should remember it, yet nobody does! It was as if the Empire’s fall two thousand years ago wiped all but the faintest of memories of it from the world itself! The Recordkeepers are absolutely driven mad by this fact, and yet were it not for those lost technologies we never would have returned to the level of civilization we exist at now! The topic of study on the Empire has so many mysteries to find, so much to solve! Like did you know that it’s theorized within the Flying Cities…”
As it became clear by now that she was just incessantly rambling, at high speed no less, to the amusement of her guide, the Alf’s face suddenly burst into a bright red going all the way to the tips of her ears. The Freelancer burst out laughing as she pulled the brim of her hat over her face, doubling over himself in his mirth.
“Not just a scholar, but a total geek for the stuff huh? Hahaha!” The laughter didn’t help stop the embarrassment the Alf felt for sure. “Ahhh, sorry for busting out like that. I just don’t hear people rattle off that quickly about that topic. Though now I think I see why it is you wanted to join the Freelancers. We do often get hired to delve into those old ruins. Hell, this sword of mine was forged out of some of the alloys we found in a place like that. Though that’s a story about my time at the Sword Saint Academy…”
“You’re an SSA alumnus?!” Gasped the Alf, the Freelancer nodding. “No wonder you use such an exotic Martial Style! The only place you could learn such an old fashion of Sword Arts would have to be a place such as that. I thought I recognized those flowing motions… it’s the Continuation Style, right? The one used by the Wolkenritters from Laguna’s pre-First Great War era!”
“Seems history is a thing you know plenty of in general, Little Miss Alf,” mused the Freelancer, his companion giving a proud chuckle. “Well then, no time to waste in getting you to finding a place that suits you. For now, how about I just show you to the place that took me in?”
“Lead the way!”
Feeling that excitement for a new discovery returning to her, the Alf followed along as the Freelancer took the lead. Taking in the sounds of the crowd, the music carrying across the air from all different sources, and even the small Magical Beasts flitting about through the buildings, it sank in how this area of the city just felt different, welcoming to those who sought to explore and make their way as venturers across the world.
Their walk stopped after a turn into what was no doubt one of several plaza areas in the district. The circular plaza featuring multiple buildings, some of them clearly shops instead of Guild Halls, likely meant to service said Halls among other such things. The building they approached was the tallest one of the plaza, its stone-work construction done out of an ocher stone, giving the structure an almost amber color.
A sign of magical light gleamed as they approached, shifting between different scripting as the Alf looked at it. And no doubt each one read the exact same thing: Amber Sky.
“And this is my little home amid the mess of the city,” The Freelancer turned about, putting his hands into his pockets. “The Amber Sky, one of the largest Guild Halls in Clearhabor, and one hell of a place to work out of… you’ll see what I mean when we’re inside.”
“And I look forward to it,” Though before following some of the crowd entering the Hall, the Alf stopped. “It only just hit but… neither of us have given each other our names. Quite rude of both of us, wouldn’t you say? Despite having spent the past few hours exchanging so much.”
“That it would be,” mused the half-alf. “Then allow me: The name’s Soren Luris Ragnvald, Freelancer of the Amber Sky, and graduate of the Sword Saint Academy.”
“Syr. Syr Fleyldis. Graduate of the Sorcerer’s College, and hopeful Freelancer hoping to unravel the mysteries of our world’s past. A pleasure to meet you, Sir Ragnvald.”
“Just Soren. Way too formal if you use my surname.”
“Then feel free to call me Syr.”
The two shook hands, Soren turning and opening the door to the hall. Syr gripped her bag tightly as the excitement welled up in her, all kinds of wonder in her eyes as she followed Soren into the hall.
“So also, just don’t be surprised if you meet these guys and-GWAK!” As they entered, whatever Soren tried to tell Syr was quite abruptly halted when a chair of all things went flying into his head, sending him flying back through the door as Syr looked on in rigid shock.
There and then, Syr realized things were perhaps going to be a different kind of interesting.