Pioneers' Alliance Main Lobby, Meteo Town

Generous Morning stands from her seat upon noticing our approach, face impassive, and arms behind her back giving the impression of an enormous amount of pride in herself.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," Windy offers a half-hearted apology.

Generous Morning shakes her head slowly, "It's quite alright. I assume that you've made your decision, then?"

"Yes," I admit, "Both to your question, and to your request to join Truthseekers. There are, however, some caveats to that."

She smiles, "I am listening."

"The first, which rather goes without saying, is that you are to make a clean break with Rambling Rose before joining us. I appreciate that you may need some time to settle matters, so you needn't sign the membership contract today," I start off with the obvious point, "Please note the 'clean' part, I do not wish to agitate Hadrian any further than this likely already will, nor do I want for you to have any lingering business unfinished that might otherwise come back to the rest of us."

"Acceptable," she agrees, "What else?"

"Second, is that you will not be given the autonomy you desire immediately," I continue, "You will be answering directly to me in much the same capacity as you have been to Hadrian in Rambling Rose until such a time as you have proven to be capable and trustworthy enough to have that freedom. I understand that this might gall you, but I needn't remind you that you haven't been entirely forthcoming, so it's difficult to put our complete faith in you."

Her lower lip twists, like she's chewing on a piece of gristle, "I admit that I expected as much, although I dare say I dislike it all the same."

"Scepticism is a necessity to avoid obvious pitfalls," Angelus shrugs, "I get you were trying to get away from that kind of work in some sense, however..."

"Trust is earned with time, not given at first meeting," Generous Morning adds her own conclusion to his sentence with a defeated sigh, "Really, I understand your position quite well, you needn't apologise. Is there anything else?"

"Last is a partially unrelated request that you get Olrica to stop moping around and answer my messages," I cough, "We need to settle accounts for a bet."

"A bet?" she questions, confused, "Is this at all related to that monster you mentioned traumatising her?"

"Yes," I confirm, "If she's to join us, it'd be best for it to be sooner, so we can get both of you up to speed at the same time. To be blunt, you are both staggeringly behind in terms of our needs for the near future. Were it not for me making an exception, neither of you would even be considered if you hadn't met the requirements I laid out."

A flash of irritating enters her eyes and exits, "I see. And what exactly, would be strong enough?"

"Level 15. Thereabouts," I state simply, eliciting a quirked eyebrow from her in response.

"You need practically double my current level? How soon do you expect that to be required?" Generous Morning's voice rises from stunned confusion.

"In the next 3 days," I add oil to the fires of her puzzlement, "Quite feasible in that amount of time."

"...I feel like our standards for what is possible are drastically different," she mutters darkly, "Perhaps this is what separates us so starkly."

"You get used to it," Windy laughs hollowly.

Ignoring her I try to give a simple explanation, "We have a method to raise your levels to that standard: We just need to call in a favour from Wolf Hunt to get you - and Olrica - on their next few bus trips to the woods for a picnic with the dire wolf populace."

"You have a way of farming the dire wolf patrols?"

"You just have to have enough people past their First Step, and their escorted newbies will be bathed in experience," I shrug, "Thanks to us, Wolf Hunt has now met the requirements to do so themselves independently of us. I doubt that they'll object to bringing some of our lower levelled members along in light of that."

"A carry party, you mean," understanding dawns on her face, "Alright. I assume you have a purpose in mind behind such a short deadline?"

"We are planning on taking on a large-scale dungeon in partnership with Wolf Hunt and a third party pending a re-negotiation of terms later today," I reveal, mindful of people potentially listening in on our conversation, "If you're not a bare minimum of Level 15, one may as well just throw themselves down a well."

"You've located yet another dungeon?" she asks, suspicious, "How do you know the location of so many? Are there others?"

"The source of my knowledge will remain secret for the foreseeable future. As far as I'm aware, however, this really is the only dungeon remaining in the region around Meteo," I explain, re-checking my memories to be certain, "Could be there are others hidden, but this is the extent of it. Wolf Lord's Remains, as it is named, is the last stop in the progression curve for local players before they need to travel further afield to continue."

"Interesting. So there is a secret to your success," Generous Morning muses, "If it's the last dungeon, I expect it is appreciably more difficult than those that came before. Would it be wrong to assume that?"

"No, you're completely right," I affirm, "It's an Iron-tier Ancient Battlefield for 30-50 participants."

Pre-empting further questions, I give her a brief summary of what that is after ensuring that there's still nobody eavesdropping. When I'm done she laughs sardonically, with a pitying gaze off into the distance.

"I find it hard to believe that Rambling Rose ever had any chance of competing with you, sir," she claims, "Moreover, I get the impression you were holding some information back even with that explanation."

My colleagues' browbeating fresh in my mind, I answer with a sly laugh of my own, "Work hard to earn my trust and such measures won't be necessary in the future."

"The question of what to do now remains," Angelus reminds me.

"I expect you have things to take care of on your end," I glance from him back to Generous Morning, "So, I suggest you leave without us to get started on it. We'll be in touch later on."

"Alright, that sounds reasonable," Generous Morning agrees, "Then, if you'll excuse me, sir."

Bowing slightly to each of us in turn, she leaves without a word, an imperceptible tension in the air departing with her. The three of us shuffle around so that we're all facing one another, Angelus' face expectant.

"What about us?" he asks.

"We have someone important to talk to. Two someones, in point of fact," I reveal, glancing at the queues for the clerks' attention, "First of whom is the new Branch Manager, Zomn Dyter Klaeress."

"Beg your pardon?" Windy interjects.

"Dyter Klaeress, awarded the honorary title of 'Zomn' by the Empire for her efforts in leading the suppression of a Cursed Battlefield that appeared in the Central Provinces, rescuing one of the Council's sons in the process. It roughly equates to 'Remembered'. The nuance is a little different, though," It's not a hereditary title, and is only given out maybe once every other generation to those not part of the Empire's citizenry that render services of great significance.

"So, she's quite powerful, then?" Angelus analyses.

"Very. As of now, she is the most powerful single person in the city - town, rather - bar none," I affirm, "She's a spellcaster who's at the very least passed her Level 40 Promotion and first Racial Refinement. As for exact details, I have no idea."

If memory serves, she survived not only the occupation of Rambling Rose, but that of Hammer Holdin' and the subsequent 'liberation' of the city by imperial forces. Even for an older mage, her tenacity is top-notch. It's only a shame that her current strength is her limit, and that she's due to pass away from old age in a few years time.

"Am I finally getting more options for spells, then?" he presses further, "You mentioned that she would be the new Mentor for spellcasters."

"One of the reasons," I smile, feeling stifled by a lack of options myself. I'm used to having far more, though a few gimmicky challenges which restricted their use have trained me to be able to make do without.

Trena Bladesman's Retort, Windshear Slice, Awakened Higher Instincts...how I miss thee. But worry not, for we will be reunited in the future, alongside many other friends old and new.

"Are you going to keep us in suspense?" Windy asks, exasperated.

"The other two reasons, are to try and finagle some extra rewards out of the Alliance for dealing with their fuckup, and to see whether or not it's possible to partner with them," I cut it down to brass tacks, "Mainly, I want their help in keeping the Empire off our backs for the whole 'might have accidentally demoted the City' business."

"Right, yeah, that would be helpful," Windy concurs, "You sure they'll be willing to help us instead of just handing us over for brownie points? Maybe scratch back some of the rep they lost when their guy went all Dr Faust on them?"

"Unlikely," I shake my head in denial, "For one thing, Zomn Klaeriss is likely not as...sapient as you might be expecting, more than Troop Captain Sheveret and but much less so than Henna if I had to guess. Were it otherwise, perhaps she might consider it, but even then I doubt it as the Pioneers' Alliance as a whole typically prefers to keep its nose out of backroom dealings with other nations. That we caught onto and dealt with a nasty piece of work like Geronil without forcing them to get their hands dirty hushing things over and potentially kicking off a bigger political scandal is actually rather expedient for them, given that we are officially Empire citizens. They still have egg on their face, all the same, but they can make a show of rewarding us good Empire citizens to scuff out some of the bad blood. Trying to turn us in over an accident while doing what neither side couldn't is a worse look in my opinion."

"I only kind of followed that," Windy admits, "So, if I'm understanding you right, it's more worthwhile to reward and praise us than it is to sell us out as potential criminals?"

"Sounds about right," Angelus nods, unphased, "If this NPC was a little smarter she might be able to think of a way to do both, though."

"Could be," I clasp my hands together, "With that out of the way, shall we see if we can get a face to face meeting?"

---

 

Pioneers' Alliance Branch Building 2F

"Come in," a grouchy voiced woman calls in response to Angelus rapping on the door to Geronil's old office.

Obliging, my eyes wander around the room, marvelling at how much more spacious it feels now that it's been purged of the glut of tacky antiques, stolen goods and serial killer trophies. It does, however, have the side-effect of removing any sense of the occupant's personality, now that the carpeting is absent, and the walls repainted a dull white, feeling almost clinical in its barrenness.

From what little I recall of her beyond the small snippet of background flavour, it's still more or less in line with her own beliefs and preferences. Zomn Klaeriss was known for being short-tempered, acerbic and not at all fond of us players. I'll grant her that by the time she was forced to come down here and assume this post, the playerbase was of sufficient size and proliferation that a great many idiots, weirdoes and troublemakers were making names for themselves, so a poor impression of us is a forgivable consequence.

Naturally, I take the lead, Angelus and Windy at either side just behind me, "Greetings, Zomn, my name is Silver Nosster, leader of the Guild Truthseekers, these two here are my subordinates-" Colleagues I mentally correct myself, "-Windy Fields, Vice Leader, and Angelus Reach, an Officer."

Steepling her fingers, the aged Mahjhoult Firm (Mageblood in Old Merrowan, denoting a slightly older, purer pedigree than more common modern Mageblood Firm) peers at us over her small spectacles. Her sense of fashion is just as bleak as ever, a featureless grey robe with a black lined collar and sleeves, with a cheap broach worn purely out of sentimental value and her hair is tied a little too tightly into a bun, which I admit does diminish the appearance of wrinkles on her forehead.

"State your business," she cuts to the chase immediately.

"As I'm sure you've been informed, we were the ones to oust your predecessor after discovering his myriad atrocities," I lead in, "What you might not be aware of however is what happened following that incident."

"Speak."

"The Archdemon Count, Arevas, known better locally as simply The Magpie Demon, was Geronil Uvstine's master, and was less than enthused that we slew his servant, and demanded our presence," I continue on, "The resulting confrontation led to the archdemon's prison being resealed, and by strange coincidence, the City's core simultaneously ceased operations."

I can practically see the gears turning in her quasi-mechanical mind, as the programming that makes up her response trees desperately searches for an appropriate answer for my candid admission.

"Preposterous," she eventually settles on scepticism, "An Archdemon would destroy you instantly."

"If he had the ability, perhaps, but his prison is rather more robust than that, in spite of it all," I answer calmly, "Moreover, with the aid of the one who imprisoned him in the first place, not impossible. If you doubt it still, you may simply send a verification request to the Cathedral for the corresponding Historic Deed. I'm certain a Cleric devoted to Cavhatirrius or Illimeo would be willing to corroborate my claim."

Deeds are to some extent, akin to Titles for Guilds and similar organisations, earned by completing feats worthy of renown, and go in order of Rumoured, Noble, Storied, Historic and finally, Heroic. Rather than the Levels or the title, which while definitely extraordinarily powerful within its highly specific niche - life-saving even - both pale in comparison to the value of even a Storied Deed to a Guild. As for a Historic Deed? Even the best ranked Guilds in the world would struggle to find a hint of one in their prime, much less attain one. The amount of hurdles in the Guild's rise to 5-Star status this one single Deed allows us to bypass is utterly ridiculous so long as it can be proved.

I'd have jumped for joy when I saw it while reviewing the other things I missed in my mid-death stupor in the training yard earlier, but it wouldn't be a good look for me.

As for the...other...Title. I don't know what to make of it. A Dragon Knight is apparently so powerful that even catching one's attention for a mere instant is enough to grant me a freaking Astral-Tier Title. They really are absurd existences. Beyond my stupefaction, however, I can consider it mostly a positive thing. It's not like I'm going to have a Dragon Knight following me around wherever I go, but it will certainly make getting into Ilg a lot easier, should I decide I'm tired of living.

It'll be years before it becomes relevant again, if at all. Best to put it to the back of my mind and forget it exists.

Zomn Klaeriss mutters a line of gibberish under her breath, the tinkling of a bell can be vaguely heard through the wall from the adjacent room. Within a few seconds, a balding Silva man enters the room, expectant.

"You called, Mistress Klaeriss?" he bows slightly with his hand to his chest, a very Mideastern gesture. Appropriate, considering where they transferred from.

"This man claims to have defeated an Archdemon Count named Arevas, please verify the Deed," she orders.

"As you wish. It will take but a moment to check the Jubilant Histories," he responds without missing a beat. I can't say I recall this individual, but his face is passing familiar. From the red chain around his neck, I believe that he is a follower of Illimeo, the Travelling Playwright, one of the Gods whose Domain gives them responsibility for evaluating and recording the lives, stories and Deeds of The Ignorant in the famed Library of the Heavensent.

Taking an ornate silvery metal pen from his waistcoat's pocket, he jabs the sharp nib into the palm of his hand and begins to pray fervently to his god, until lines of blood travel up along the pen's surface, the focus beginning to glow faintly. The blood then fades away into the focus, and he opens his eyes, removing the pen, wiping it with a silky blue handkerchief and returning both to their respective pockets.

"The Deed is verified, Mistress, they are indeed responsible for the Deed in question, and it has been classified as-" he pauses, disbelieving, "Historic, Mistress."

Her eyes go wide, "A Historic..."

Trailing off, Zomn Klaeriss turns contemplative. It takes a full two minutes of her being frozen perfectly in place with nary a breath nor a blink of her eyelids before she moves again, almost as if the information was so shocking that it caused her programming to crash from the ridiculousness of it all.

She reaches up to her nose, removing her spectacles and setting them down on her desk, rubbing at her eyelids, before looking up and at the three of us once again. Really looking, this time, a sense of vitality that wasn't present earlier held within her gaze, re-evaluating us. It may very well be that I was right, despite my joking, and that her AI has just been forcibly upgraded to handle the situation.

"It seems we are in the presence of future Aspirants," Zomn Klaeriss leans back into her chair, a sardonic smile playing across her face, "How momentous."

"Yes, Mistress," the Silva man concurs robotically.

"Speak plainly, then. What do you wish to gain, approaching me like this?" she addresses me solemnly.

"Assistance in keeping the Empire from persecuting us unfairly, to enter into partnership with the Pioneers' Alliance, and permission to purchase Spells from you," I oblige.

"The latter two are of no issue, however, intervening in the affairs of a partnered nation on this scale..." Zomn Klaeriss gives me a look that expects me to already know what I'm asking.

"'twas the fault of Geronil and those close to him things came to this," I remind her, "This much is the least the Alliance can do in light of the circumstances."

"As you say, we bear no small amount of blame for the excesses of my predecessor, however, you rather overestimate how far we are willing to shield someone like yourselves, who by your own reckoning may bear some amount of responsibility for damaging an asset as important as a City Core," she explains, more or less in line with our expectations, "I will, however, inform my superiors of the matter. They will have the final say, as they are the ones engaged with defusing the Imperial Council's ire towards us at present."

"That's as much as I hoped for," I express my gratitude, "Then, the other two matters?"

"Until this mess has been swept somewhere out of sight and mind, we cannot enter into a partnership with your Guild, though with a Historic Deed you more than qualify despite your lack of notoriety," Zomn Klaeriss clasps her hands together, gesturing as she talks, "As for the Spells you seek, I am more than happy to part with some of my knowledge as well as the Tomes, Scrolls and Designs in my collection. For a suitable price, of course."

It's a little disappointing that we can't partner with the Pioneers' Alliance immediately, but it's enough to know we qualify already, and to allow for our spellcasters to get what they need.

"Of course. If you have any equipment suitable for beginner spellcasters as well, we would also be very interested," I add, a little optimistic.

She thinks it over, "I might have a few odds and ends. Tell you what, if you want to do me a favour every once in a while, I don't mind exchanging them for services rendered. These would be personal, rather than for the Alliance, mind you, just to be clear."

I blink, surprised. In a good way. I never heard of Zomn Klaeriss offering a deal like this to anybody before, perhaps it's a Secretive Shop? They're not easy to find, much less unlock access to. They're also not strictly legal, which makes using them a little risky depending on the goods exchanged and the payment method. Not so much a Black Market, as much as it is purchasing from a Private Collector.

"We'd be happy to co-operate," I smile, pleased, "What sort of services would you require?"

"Information on the local area, particularly the ecology and unusual occurrences for one," Zomn Klaeriss proposes, "My predecessor destroyed many of the documents archived here, and those that remain are inadequate. Second, would be an exchange of valuable goods and items. Third, performing jobs for me, and lastly, protecting the Alliance's interests in the area."

"I see," I nod slowly, "On the subject of information, you will find me quite informed. I will need some time to compile a report, however."

"That would be greatly appreciated," she smiles appreciatively, "Would you like to purchase Spells now, or do you need to gather funds together?"

"Now would be good," I step back and beckon Angelus forward, "My friend here is a Beacon, so compatible spells and skill gems for his class would be appreciated."