Zachary Scott
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Chapter 101 - Suspiciously Successful
🕑 Added 2024-10-16 17:52:50 +0000 UTCI wasn’t sure why, exactly, but I seriously loved being in Adventurer’s Guilds. The guild in Thrask was many times the size of the small frontier guild I first saw back in Riverwell. I was waiting in line, but didn’t mind. It gave my eyes plenty of time to wander.
On the upper levels, I saw adventurers lounging, chatting, or possibly strategizing for missions. I saw others speaking with guild employees who all wore the same deep green uniforms. Some adventurers were handing over what I assumed was proof of completion for their tasks and collecting payment.
The sight was bittersweet. On the one hand, I couldn’t believe I got to live in a world where this kind of thing was real. On the other hand, part of me wished I could be like them. Just another adventurer with no concerns but climbing my way up the levels and ranks. Instead, I knew I was meant for a greater, more terrible purpose.
When it was my turn, I approached the counter and smiled because I recognized the woman. She helped me before I left for Beastden with Lyria. The old woman's name was Poppy, and from the way she was grinning, she remembered me, too.
“Well look who is back! And you've grown, boy!” She lifted a round lens from beneath the counter that was attached by an extending wooden arm to the desk. Poppy leaned down and positioned her eye on the other side so it appeared massive by the lens' magnification.
“Iron! I knew it.”
I smiled uncomfortably and inspected the lens.
[Lens of Identification (Epic) (Silver)] Identify the level, rank, and base class of living beings.
Damn. An Epic Silver Rank item? It explained why she could identify me despite the new boon of protection from my Wings of Ascension trophy. Had the lens been Wood, she would've presumably been unable to see anything about me.
“So,” she said. “I reckon you handled yourself quite well in that dungeon if you're a whole rank higher than last time we spoke. Where's the pretty girl you were with? She dead? I hope it wasn't too grisly. But, you know, people do die. It happens all the time. I reckon I’ll give it a try before too long. Dying, I mean,” she said to the baffled look on my face. “Anyway, I'm sure you'll find plenty more pretty girls where she came from, especially with that rear end of yours.”
“Uh, no,” I said. “Lyria is fine. She's just back at the tavern.”
“Oh.” Poppy looked almost disappointed, then shrugged her narrow, crooked shoulders. “Right, then. What can I help you with today?”
“Well… there was this girl named Belle outside Beastden. She told me all about the adventurer's guild points, guild ranks, and she might have mentioned something about embellishments for badges. Speaking of which, not that it's a big deal, but do I need to do something to get my Iron badge now that I've advanced?”
“You just did it!” Poppy said, smiling. She dug under the desk and stood up with an Iron badge about as tall as my thumb and three times as wide. It was in the shape of a shield with raised metal edges and crafted to look as though it was a bit battered and worn from combat, complete with little gouges and slices as if it had deflected sword blows.
“Could I keep my Wood badge?” I asked. “Just for a keepsake.”
“Sure,” she said. “Though most are happy to be rid of theirs if they survive to Iron. Wood ain’t a happy time for most. Certainly not.”
Smiling, I removed the Wood badge from my undershirt and pinned the new Iron badge on. My coat would cover it, but I figured it was probably smarter not to advertise my rank any more openly than I had to. “How does the process of turning in accomplishments work?” I asked.
“Simple as pie!,” Poppy said. “Follow me, Dear.”
She limped around the counter and led me deeper into the room. We passed tables of armored and robed adventurers talking and inspecting postings pinned to the wooden walls. Poppy took me to the end of a low row of counters and walked around to the other side, then gestured to a little black box on the counter. “All you do is put your hand in here, this will read your deeds, and then it will tell us how many points they're worth. I make official note of them right…” Poppy ducked below the counter again, grunted, and returned with a giant book nearly half her size. She let it slam down on the counter with a resounding thump that made several nearby people turn their heads.
“These are the guild ledgers. I'll note your score in here and we'll see if it qualifies you for a new rank. Now, I should warn you. I wouldn't expect your first foray into a dungeon to get you enough points to really do much. Maybe we'll get you a badge embellishment or put you halfway toward D rank, if you really handled yourself well down there. But there's no shame in needing time. No shame at all.”
I nodded as I looked at the box. “How many points do most people end up with?”
“Well, the points are based on a number of factors. But rank and rarity of the accomplishments are essentially what is being measured.”
“Rank and rarity of all my accomplishments?”
“Afraid not. Only those fulfilled in service of the guild and while you were a member of the guild. Any great deeds you do on your own time don't count toward your guild points, I'm afraid. I’d say most first-timers end up getting maybe fifty points. Some of the real tough ones wind up with a hundred or so. Saw a girl get double that once, but she went on to become a Gold years later, so it’s really no surprise.”
“Alright,” I said. “So I just stick my hand in?”
“That's right,” she said. “Here, I can help you, Dear.” Poppy reached out and took my arm with a suspiciously light touch. One of her fingertips brushed down my forearm as she leered a little at me, then she gave a small tug and pulled my hand toward the box.
The box had a darkened opening that seemed to eat up any light, almost like the dimensional boxes I had seen used by naidu and at furnishers. This one had no curtain, though, and there was only a black, starry void inside.
I felt the smallest pang of fear, but reminded myself I likely had no reason to be suspicious in the middle of a busy guild building with a registered employee of the guild.
My hand crossed the barrier and vanished into the darkness. It felt cold and wet, but otherwise unremarkable. I frowned down at my wrist, which now seemed to end abruptly in shadow.
“I just wait?” I asked.
“You'll feel it in a moment, Dear. It has to touch you just a little to read you. But try not to flinch. It doesn't like when people take their hands out mid-reading. And yet people are always doing it. New blood can be so skittish.”
I swallowed and waited. When I felt a cold touch on my hand from within the box, I went stiff. Fingers that felt dead and frozen were brushing over my palm, the top of my hand, and all over my fingertips.
I shuddered as I endured it, and then a little strip of parchment smaller than a grocery store receipt slid out of the top of the box.
“Okay,” Poppy said, ripping the paper free and giving me a shoo motion that said I could remove my hand now. She slid down a pair of spectacles, frowned at the paper, then looked back up at me. “There must be some mistake… Would you mind just doing that one more time, Dear?”
“A mistake?” I asked. “What's wrong?”
She flashed a shaky smile, then smoothed her expression. “You couldn't have possibly earned this many points. Only way you would've got a number like this is if you went in there and cleared the dungeon yourself!” She wheezed with laughter, crumpled the paper, and set it aside. She realized I was still standing there and made an impatient gesture. “Go on. One more time, then.”
I was debating whether I should say anything, but decided it was better to just endure the process one more time.
I stuck my hand in, waited while I was fondled by the nightmare thing inside the box, and watched another piece of paper slip out of the top.
Poppy took it again, smiling confidently, as if certain this time it would behave normally. Her smile fell suddenly when she must have seen the exact same number. She gave me a very customer-service style of smile, then drummed her fingers on the counter. “Would you mind waiting here just a moment, Dear?”
“Sure,” I said. I really didn't mind. I loved the atmosphere in this place and would’ve happily hung out all day if I could. Once she was gone, I discreetly reached out and picked up the balled-up paper she had discarded. I unfolded it and had to squint to read the tiny number written in blue ink. The first word was written in a language I didn't understand, but the second part was a number I assumed represented my score. There was a small symbol as well that vaguely reminded me of a roman numeral, but the shapes were all wrong.
Artacan - 2,405.
I crumpled the paper and set it back where I found it.
She would’ve been impressed if I earned a hundred on my first dungeon dive? And a girl who had earned tow hundred went on to become a Gold?
Yeah. Suddenly I could see how my number was suspicious.
I wondered what “Artacan” meant. Points, maybe? I also had no idea what the symbol meant, but figured it could be a personal identifier to mark the points as belonging to me. Or maybe it was something else entirely, like where I earned the points or how long since I had joined the guild?
Without any way of knowing, I decided to inspect the box itself.
[Scrying Box (Epic) (Gold)]
The description of the box was jumbled in my tooltip, though, almost as if the letters had been scrambled and mixed up on purpose. I wondered if a powerful enough person could mask the description of items from identification.
If my Ascension Trophy was able to mask my own level and rank from certain forms of identification, it was very likely possible.
I occupied myself with people watching for a few minutes until Poppy returned with a serious looking man who had a droopy, horse-shaped face. He wore a relatively impressive guild uniform, implying he was rather high rank.
The man made me repeat the process of sticking my hand in the scrying box again. His reaction was more or less the same as Poppy's, except he made me put my hand in the box three times.
He gave me an uncertain smile, whispered something to Poppy, and then I was asked to wait another time as both employees rushed off into the back room.
I blew out a breath and leaned my elbows on the counter as I waited. Was it really so hard to believe I had racked up 2,405 Artacans—whatever those were?
Probably.
Instead of feeling annoyed or impatient, I passed the time by imagining what kind of perks I could get if that really was a dragon's haul of points. Gold plating for my badge? That would be pretty nice. Or maybe they gave out guild cloaks. If they did, it wasn't insane to imagine I could get embellishments for that, too. Gold thread, maybe? A magical glow effect? I certainly loved magical glow effects, assuming that was a thing here…
And what about trophies? It seemed reasonable to assume there might be some kind of trophy I could collect if I spent enough points.
I was also curious to know what sort of benefits I'd get for climbing the ranks in the guild. I knew Belle mentioned something about getting better rates of pay, which would be nice. But what else would there be?
I was drumming my fingers when a large man in plate armor emerged from the back room. He had bony shoulders and a very slender build, but he radiated power in a way I couldn't quite pinpoint. His facial hair was black and neatly trimmed, and his hair was long and shiny, hanging just below his jaw. He had thick dark brows and bright blue eyes with a hooked nose.
He was dressed like some sort of battle mage. He wore a gray robe studded with diamond-shaped plates of acid-green metal that seemed to glow from within. A necklace hung from his neck that seemed simple, but somehow drew my attention. The simple rope string and the bone dangling from its tip seemed to pull at me until I wanted to walk toward him and reach for it.
I blinked, chasing away the odd temptation.
Poppy said something to the man, then pointed toward me. He turned on a dime and began striding toward me, drawing looks from all the guild employees he passed.
Oh, shit. Am I about to get in trouble?
I inspected the man as he approached.
[Human, Level 50 (Gold)]
Oh, shit again. Whoever this guy was, he could probably melt the whole building if he wanted to. I stood a little straighter as I waited, determined not to make him want to melt me or the building.
He stopped on the other side of the desk, deep blue eyes swimming with curiosity and alarm as he studied me.
“Give me your hand, Young Man.” His voice was gentle, but firm. Without needing to say so, I knew this was a command I didn't dare disobey.
I stuck my hand out toward him and waited.
He took it, placing his right hand beneath it, palm to palm. He put his left hand on top. I felt a sudden rush of warmth spreading across my skin in thin lines like the paths of strange insects burrowing through me.
He closed his eyes as some kind of energy lifted the hairs on his head until they floated outward as if he was suspended underwater.
The feeling passed suddenly and his eyes snapped open. He released my hand, gave a small nod, and then leaned closer. “You're not using any deception to fool my scrying box.”
“That's right,” I said. “Is it really so hard to believe I got those points legitimately?”
“Frankly? Yes. You're hardly Iron. To earn that many points shouldn’t be possible with the help of other Irons. The scrying box wouldn't award you that many points unless you had done several very improbable and nearly impossible things within the dungeon. Legally, you are not required to comply with what I'm about to ask you, but I will ask you nonetheless. May I see your accomplishment scrips from the dungeon?”
I hesitated. Whoever this man was, he was obviously powerful and most likely important. Making an ally of him would likely be smart. Not pissing him off would be smarter. And yet… There was also a very real chance that he could pose a danger to me. If he did, the less he knew, the better.
“Sorry,” I said. “I never keep those.”
“Pardon? Everyone keeps their scrips, they are extremely valuable for—”
I shook my head. “I threw them away. Sorry.”
He raised an eyebrow, surveying me with clear doubt. “What is your name?”
“Brynn,” I said.
“Why are you wearing a helmet in here?”
Damn. Why was he so suspicious of me?
“I always wear this,” I said. “It's—”
“Bewitched by an illusion. An illusion that will fade in just a few hours, mind you. Tell me, Brynn. Why do you wear a helmet hidden by illusion while you're inside the safety of Thrask? Why do you cover your face and not wish to boast to anyone who will hear about whatever it was you did within Beastden? Why do you inexplicably throw away your accomplishment scrips?”
The room felt like it was closing in around me. I had the distinct feeling that my very life could depend on my next few words. “I am… wanted dead by some,” I said carefully. A half truth was likely safer than a full lie.
“Most of us are.”
“It is better for me if I remain as unremarkable as possible. I don't mean any offense. Please, trust me when I say I'm simply trying to protect my own life.”
The man watched me without blinking for so long I felt like my knees might give out. Finally, he pursed his lips slightly and patted both palms on the counter. “I was once chased from my home by buffoons and idiots incapable of reason. I lived in fear for many years, and I thought I recognized the same caution in you. And it's for this reason and this reason alone I'm not going to ask you to take off that helmet or show me the accomplishment scrips I know you still have, young man. But know this—” he held up a long, elegant finger. “Your quest to remain unremarkable has failed. I will be watching your progress with great curiosity. Should I suspect your motives for remaining hidden are nefarious, you can be sure I will find you and wring out your secrets like dirty water from a cloth. Am I understood?”
“Yes,” I said, nodding simply.
“Good. Good. My name is Polonius Utherian, by the way. I realize I haven't properly introduced myself. I am the guildmaster here in Thrask. I'll let them know to approve your points. Oh, by the way. Congratulations on earning so many points in one dungeon that you've risen straight from F rank to C. I would say it's impressive, but you've skipped straight past impressive and entered damningly suspicious territory. I would advise caution, moving forward.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak more.
He gave a flat smile, then strode back toward Poppy, said something quiet to her, and disappeared into the back room again.
I let out a long, shaky breath once he was gone.
Fuck. These badge embellishments had better be awesome.
Comments
Ben Bass
TYFTC! See, the problem with wanting and getting gud at getting trophies and accomplishments, is that you draw attention when you do your thing and are much better than most everyone else. Now will Brynn realize that he is a guildmaster too and can get his guild to the point where he can give out trophies and accomplishments too.
Zachary Scott
Honestly I'm a little bummed I didn't do it this way now. I don't think it would've really changed the content of the scene, but I think your version would've been cooler. OH WELL. Maybe it's something I'll tweak in revisions eventually just for fun. I would've also liked to drag a wide-eyed Brynn into the back room of the guild and show what's going on back there :)
Ichyban
TFTC!...*big eyes wide open* will we get more Trophies? btw...mid chapter i was expecting, that he would be pulled or dragged to the guild master not the other way around
