Twenty-five gold coins. That was what their contribution in Fishers Lake had come to. If not for the many close encounters with death, and the weeks locked up in the gorger’s den, Hump might have thought it was worth it. As it was, not so much.

They had a few days now until the Adventurers’ Guild announcement, and he endeavoured to spend the time as relaxed as he could. He splurged on quality food, heated himself a bath each night, and was just about to drink himself stupid for the first time in months. He smiled down at his mug of ale, took a big gulp, and sat back in his chair happily.

He’d been looking over the Burning Wisps formation in his spellbook, trying to memorise the intricacies of the runes.

 

Spellbook
Burning Wisps

Evocation | Battle Magic | Tier 3 | Range: Short

 

Description: Manifest basic constructs nearby that will obey simple intent. Benefits from a strong will and spiritual ability.

 

It would be a while before he could cast it without a formation, but he hoped to get the gist of it down over the next few days. There was something about the idea of an army of minion flames following around that sounded great—not that he could cast that many. From the complexity of the spell, he didn’t expect to be able to maintain more than four at once at his current rank.

“How can you be so happy?” Bud asked, tapping his foot under the table. “The city is in crisis, and you’re being hunted as a murderer.”

They were at the inn, the two of them at the table while Celaine and Dylan grabbed their meals.

“You forgot to mention my soul was recently ravaged by a gorger,” Hump said. “Best to remind me of everything if you want to worry me.”

Bud sighed, looking at him with impatience. “That isn’t my intention. I just don’t understand how you can stop thinking about all this.”

“That’s quite simple really,” Hump said. “First of all, we’ve done all we can. And secondly,” he took another big swig of his drink. “I plan to keep on drinking until I forget.”

“Hump! This is serious.”

 “No matter what we do, we can’t do anything more until the guild’s official announcement. We’ve had a tough few months. Enjoy the short break while we have it, otherwise you’ll wear yourself out before you know it. Even Chosen need some time to relax.”

“I can’t relax.”

“Then drink until you can.”

Bud stared at him, clearly not buying it.

Hump let out a long sigh, sitting up. He noticed Dylan picking up two plates over at the bar and grinned. “Here, watch this.” He focused on Dylan’s mug of ale unattended at their table and held out both hands toward it. He gathered his essence, harnessed his will, then said, “Hide Object.”

The mug vanished from sight, and Hump quickly sat back in his chair looking as innocent as he could. Bud’s mouth dropped open with a mixture of protest and amusement. He was about to say something, but Dylan was already on his way back. The druid set his plate down on the table, sliding the second over to Hump.

He frowned at them. “Are you both alright? You look… odd.”

Hump glared back at him. “Yeah, well you have a big nose!”

“Right…” Dylan said. He searched the table, frowning further. “Did one of you nick my drink?

Hump muffled a snort, and Bud rubbed a hand over his face, hiding a smile.

Celaine strode over and set down the other two plates, then reached over a grabbed the mug straight out of the veil, handing it to him. She turned a thin lipped frown on then, and Hump couldn’t suppress it any longer. He burst out laughing, Bud joining him.

“You are both such children,” Celaine chided.

“Now that’s just mean,” Hump said. “Find me a child that can cast such a fine veil.”

“You have gotten much better at that,” Dylan said with a smile.

Hump grinned back. “You know better than any of us what Vivi is like. I didn’t have a choice.”

“No, she really doesn’t let weak points slip.”

It was a good meal. Vivienne had gone to meet with some of her associates in the city, so it was just the four of them this time. After dinner, they moved onto the more serious matters. They had a few days before the official guild announcement where Hump expected the dungeon situation to be revealed to all. By that point, he wanted them to have all the equipment they needed for a quest chain that could potentially last months. Demand was already soaring, and would no doubt go higher once the full details were known to other adventures.

“I still think we should have waited before ordering all my armour,” Bud said.

Celaine groaned. “How many times? You need your armour, Bud! You’re a knight, and we could be leaving any day. The smithy needed all the time he could get for adjustments.”

“I know, but we didn’t talk it over, and I hate spending more than my fair share. Replacing my chest plate would have been more than enough.”

Hump clasped his shoulder. “I know you’re perfectly happy looking like a bandit, but the rest of us aren’t. You’ll be taking the brunt of most fights and we can’t have you getting wounded. This as important as healing supplies.”

“I suppose if you insist,” Bud said.

“We do,” Celaine said. “What about you, Dylan. Do you need any armour?”

The druid shook his head. “No need to worry about me, I’m fine as is. Anything like that restricts my connection to nature. Metal is the worst of all.”

“I’ve still not been able to find any new wizard robes,” Hump said. “And I think we’re going to need most of what’s left for potions. If we’re going to be moving forward with more caution, we’ll need a good stock of healing and utility potions.”

“We can have a look through what we brought from home once we’re done here,” Dylan said. “Tomorrow we can find somewhere to pick up the rest.”

Hump smiled. “I know just the place.”

He and Dylan went the next morning, Hump feeling worse for wear after a rough night of sleep. His dreams had been vivid that night—probably all the sugar in his drink. And unfortunately, they weren’t good dreams.

Hump led the way confidently past the Alchemist Association, peering down the various side streets as they walked. It was a busy morning in the city, and with rumours of monsters in the alleys, people were sticking more and more to the main roads.

“Are you sure you know where you’re going?” Dylan asked sceptically.

“Absolutely. It’s down one of… there it is!” The door sign in the shape of a leaf glowed with the luminescent green of essence infused pain. “These lesser known places always have the best prices.”

“I’m guessing they’re not altogether legal either,” Dylan said.

“It’s good enough for the Ferrand’s, so it’s good enough for me.”

“Randall was here?”

“Oh yeah, that’s how we met.”

The pungent smell of herbs greeted them inside, and Hump took it in deeply. He looked over the shelves of dried goods and jars, to the apprentice stacking them.

The man stood as he stood them. “Well if it isn’t my wizard protector!”

Hump smiled at him, pleased to see the apprentice was still in shop. They’d met on his first trip to Sheercliff, right before Randall visited and gave the young alchemist a hard time over limerick cocktail. He’d have felt bad if his little stunt with the ursa root had cost the apprentice his job, so it was good to see him still there. “I hope I didn’t cause you too much trouble last time.”

“Not enough that I’ll kick you out. My master still has me cleaning the alchemical waste buckets, but I’m still here!”

Hump winced. “That’s tough. Your’s ever make you drink ginger tonic?”

“Oh yes! I think that’s every alchemists favourite. Either that, or chilli water.”

“Oof, fortunately I was spared that. How about you, Dylan? Vivi ever hit you with the ginger tonic?”

“Thankfully not,” he said laughing. I was a bit too old for that when I started. Certainly scrubbed a lot of pots though.”

“Never too old for ginger tonic,” Hump said. He imitated his master’s voice, “No better way to keep the stupid in your head where nobody else has to listen to it, or so my master would say.”

“Judging from your last visit, I don’t think it worked,” Pete said.

Hump laughed.

“So what can I do for you?” Pete continued.

“We’re going to be questing to the south and need to stock up on a few bits before we go.” Hump pulled out a list, handing it to him.

Pete ran a finger down the list, nodding as he went. “We’ve got most of it in stock, though a few bits might be dried rather than fresh.”

“We’ll make do,” Hump said.

Pete moved through the shop, collecting the various ingredients he’d specified, weighing each of them out into precise portions. He wrapped them in cloth, and passed them to him in a paper bag. Hump handed over the gold and silver coins reluctantly, another five-and-a-bit pieces down the drain. Adventuring was expensive…

A few good days of brewing, and Hump would be better stocked than when he’d first started adventuring alone. Their preparations were going well, at least as far as he could tell.

It was three days later when the announcement came. There had to be a thousand people in the Adventurers’ Guild courtyard when Hump and his party arrived. A small army, many of whom were more than a little unhappy to have been refused quests over the past few days.

Hump spent the time assessing the competition, noting those in parties, or those standing apart from everyone else. Perhaps even more importantly, the people everyone else seemed to avoid. He’d learnt to keep note of such details following his master. The things that separated a man that might kill you for a few gold coins, and those that fought monsters for more than money. Equipment was always the deciding factor. Rookies stood out through their lack of use, but there was a well-worn but maintained look to the adventurers that knew what they were doing. They tended their equipment well, and they looked after each other. Those that only prioritised themselves didn’t last long in this line of work.

He noticed Marcela at the back of the raised platform built to one side of the courtyard. She was talking to a man that appeared to be about thirty, carrying a finely made spear. He seemed powerful. Powerful enough that he might just be their expedition leader. And with them stood a number of other well-dressed figures, including Lord Randall Ferrand, the ever loyal Shieldmaiden, Madeleine, at his side.

The chatter throughout the courtyard quietened down as the Sheercliff Guildmaster, Francis Dordrel, took to the stand, striding briskly to the centre. He was a stout man with a moustache, donning a uniform that could have easily been mistaken for military, though Hump recognised it for what it was. He was one of the Kings Chosen. The elite guardians of the kingdom. A comrade to Lucas Fellgreen—the man Kassius had enthralled.

“Good morning, adventurers,” he said, his voice projecting across the courtyard. “I know there has been much confusion over the past few days, and I have come to make clear the situation. I’m sure many of you are already aware of the rumours, and they are true. Three dungeons have opened in the Sheercliff Region, and they are growing quickly. The purpose of gathering all of you together is to formalise a force to put down the threat. Six expedition teams shall be formed, each led by a silver ranked adventurer.”

He looked over the many faces before him. “There are trying times ahead. But this is what the Adventurers’ Guild was founded for. A place where all people can put aside their differences and work together to combat a threat that affects us all. The good people of Alveron are dying, slaughtered by monsters. Today, working alongside High Priest Gorflin, Countess Daston, Wizard Puldry, and Practitioner Jut, we launch our counter attack. Your party strengths and desires have been considered, and each of you has already been assigned to an expedition.”

The crowd surged with shouts and protest, but Francis raised a hand, silencing it with a pressure Hump could sense even though he hadn’t called upon his aura. This man was powerful. As powerful as Countess Daston perhaps.

“I know we are asking much of you. With King Henry’s support, we are prepared to reward double the usual rates for completed quests. Pay twice the market rate for every heartstone. And for every dungeon core that is claimed, all party members may retrieve a treasure from Adventurers’ Guild Vault. Check your nearest noticeboards for your assigned expedition, and may the gods be with you all.”

He turned and strode from the stage as quickly as he’d come. People rushed to meet him, calling out questions, but he vanished back into the guildhall, leaving the restless crowd for the rest of them to deal with.

Energy swept through the crowd and Hump felt it too. Excitement, fear, anticipation. This might mean their deaths, or it might mean fame and fortune. There were few better opportunities for adventurers.

“Good to see you lot back in Sheercliff,” a jovial voice came in his direction. He spotted Skander making his way through the crowd, a great big grin on his face. “A good time to be back, eh?”

“That’s one way to look at it,” Hump said to the rogue. “I didn’t expect to see you here amongst the masses.”

“It gets too fancy for me behind the scenes. I dipped out as soon as I could. Do you know where you were placed?”

“We’re with the academy,” Bud said.

Skander scrunched his nose. “How the hell did you land a spot with them?”

“My mother and Countess Daston were close,” Bud said. “She’s been kind enough to offer us a spot.”

“Oh, well lucky you. Rumour has it that she can see the future, so I hope she cut you a good deal.” He gave them a nod and started walking back toward the guild hall. “Anyway, until next time.”

“Yeah,” Hump said, still processing what he’d said. He turned to Bud. “Is he being serious?”

“I don’t know,” Bud said. “But she’s a sixth circle Chosen of Imira. Who knows what the goddess of the celestial has whispered in her ears.”

Hump snorted.

“What?” Celaine asked.

“I never bought that divination rubbish. It’s like tarot cards—the reading is always so general it could fit anyone.”

They hovered in the area a while longer. Another guild representative introduced the various expedition leaders, the spearman Hump had spotted before being amongst them. His name was Ricard Godward, and Hump was surprised to find it wasn’t a name he was familiar with. He must have been a fairly recent promotion. They were directed to various halls to meet with their expedition leaders, where quests would be distributed.

“I guess it’s time to find out whether this was a big mistake or not,” Celaine said.

Hump studied their new leader. The politician’s smile, fancy equipment, and well-mannered composure. If anything, it made him feel uneasy. “I doubt it. We probably won’t know that until something’s about to eat us.”