3.02

“We offer insurance!” - Excerpt from an employment ad found in Var’Ah’Bwek, this particular ad seemed to be for recruiting Warlocks of Eternal Madness, Unknowable Horror, and Mayonnaise. 

 

I glanced at the large Wayshard, its appearance just about the same as the one in Gaia. Situated in a walled-off location on the outskirts of the city, like a small town within the city. There were dozens of shopping stalls and hundreds of tents, the place reeked of various smells I couldn’t and did not really want to identify.

 

Hundreds of people were disappearing next to and appearing out of the crystal, in the same flash of light teleportation fashion in Gaia. There were far too many people to be just players. As far as I’m aware, Eve only started inviting people very recently. So teleportation must be available to everyone then, even the NPC’s. Only the Gaia to Indiri and vice versa teleportation must be limited to Travellers.

 

Turning away from the crystal and towards our destination, the mercenary administration hall, one of the few permanent looking buildings in this whole amalgamation of a town within a town, we began walking towards it.

 

Matt pushed open the double doors, entering the building with me following shortly behind him.

 

The place was rather empty and gave off a utilitarian feeling. Polished and clean wooden floors, with sparse furniture. The walls were undecorated, save for a large pinboard with a few dozen sheets of paper stapled on. Towards the left side, there was a receptionist desk, where a single, young-looking girl in uniform perked up at our arrival and seemed to take a deep breath.

 

“Yo!” Matt said, walking up to her, “This is the mercenary place?”

 

The girl gave Matt a practised smile, “Yes, this is the Mercenary Administration Guild, are you here for quests or perhaps registration?”

 

“Registration please,” I said, joining Matt at the desk.

 

From what I studied, a mercenary guild should function the same way as an adventurers guild from classic RPGs. People post quests to kill monsters or gather resources in locations too dangerous for most people to go near, mercenaries take up said quests and get paid if they are successful.

 

They’re basically handymen, but for violence.

 

The girl gave a nod, ‘Lucy’ was what was written on the nametag on her chest. “You will need to pay two gold each for registration fees.”

 

I nodded, pulling out two coins from my pouch, Matt doing the same next to me.

 

“Thank you,” she said as she took the coins.

 

Lucy turned around, bending down to grab a few sheets from a drawer behind her. I glanced at Matt, who was very not-obviously looking at her, and quietly chopped the back of his neck with my hand.

 

“Ow,” Matt said in a quiet voice, glancing at me.

 

I rolled eyes I didn’t have. It was easy to forget that Matt was still going through the worst parts of puberty, “at the very least don’t do it so obviously,” I quietly mouthed.

 

He gave me a, ‘I can’t help it,’ shrug.

 

Lucy turned back around, a few sheets in hand, “Please fill these-”

 

She froze, eyes darting around, glancing at a place behind us…

 

I turned around.

 

No one was behind us.

 

“Is anything wrong?” Matt asked.

 

“No- nothing is wrong,” she stuttered, lowering her eyes, “I grabbed the wrong papers, apologies.”

 

Strange.

 

I watched her turn around, hastily putting away the papers she took out previously.

 

Matt glanced at me, tilting his head in a questioning manner. I shook my head, I had no idea either.

 

“Here!” Lucy nervously said, handing us both a pen and a stack of paper.

 

I took them, quickly looking them over. Nothing overly suspicious. Some terms and conditions to sign, information to declare such as name, combat and crafting abilities, familiars, favoured role in a party, an agreement to give ten percent of any money or payment earned to the administration guild...

 

“Ten percent is rather high, isn't it?” I asked.

 

Lucy returned to her practised smile, “The ten percent is only applicable to quests taken from the administration guild,” she explained. “If you join a private guild and take quests from there, you may pay different rates to that guild.”

 

I raised an eyebrow, “There are different guilds?”

 

“Of course,” she said in a matter of fact tone, “mercenaries may start up their own guilds, the guild still pay a service tax to the Administration Guild of course, however they determine their own rates for quests.”

 

“Is it common to start or join a guild?” I asked.

 

“Yes, it is very common, most quests are taken and completed by private guilds.”

 

So that’s why I didn’t hear about it. It must be common knowledge. There were mentions about some guilds like the Red Foxes or the Sea Hounds, however, I just chalked them up to being famous parties instead of guilds. I must be reading too many Light Novels.

 

“One last question,” I started, “how did you know we were Travellers?”

 

She stiffened, eyes widened by the barest fraction. That pretty much just confirmed it. If she didn’t react at all I would still be doubting it.

 

“Apologies for Lucy,” a female voice said behind me, “she is still rather new.”

 

Matt turned around startled. Showing up so early? I would’ve kept on observing, or did they already get all the information they needed? Or was this a subordinate to defuse the situation?

 

Turning around, I took a good look at this person. Tall, thin and dark-skinned, with long pointed ears. She looked like some kind of dark elf and was wearing some kind of soft blue wizards robe. There was a bit of uniformity between her outfit and Lucy’s. Though this new person's uniform seemed looser and much less formal.

 

“It’s fine,” I mildly said, “I was just curious.”

 

“There are many things which gave you away,” she explained. “Though your lack of common knowledge was an obvious indication.”

 

She was deflecting the question. “I believe we only asked questions after we were outed as Travellers,” I stated.

 

“Observant aren’t you?” she flicked her hand, “If you must know, it was your currency.”

 

Our currency?

 

She glided forward, standing next to us at the receptionist desk, picking up one of the coins we paid. “These coins are bereft of markings or mintage,” she explained, “they are completely blank discs of pure gold.”

 

Mintage?

 

I racked my head, searching for the word, definitely not the flavour…

 

“The design,” I realised.

 

I grabbed my wallet bag, opening it up. None of the gold coins I received from the tutorial had any designs on them. The pen and paper I bought earlier was a set costing one gold, so I didn’t get any change from that. Did that mean- no, the fact that the guild and the old man from earlier accepted these coins must mean they are still a valid currency.

 

The dark elf chuckled, “You don’t have to worry, Traveller Coin is accepted widely. Though considered an oddity.”

 

“I see.”

 

It seems like there were Travellers before us, and for a long time too.

 

I raised one of the forms we were given, “Can I ask, why were we given these sheets instead of the other ones?”

 

“They are special terms for Travellers,” she explained, “in the original terms, used for non-travellers, there is a clause stating that there would be a small compensation to the next of kin in the case of the mercenaries death.”

 

Ah. That clause could be problematic if a player had it.

 

“Not only that, this sheet does not ask for things such as country of origin, you may view both versions if you're doubtful.”

 

I nodded, “I see,” they both made sense, “thank you for clearing that up.”

 

“No problem,” she answered, “I shall leave you two to it then,” she said, drifting away and disappearing.

 

I watched her go. Before turning around to a slightly pale-faced receptionist.

 

Handing one copy of the papers to Matt, I nodded to him. The form only asked for some information, and the terms and conditions did not have anything that might screw us over later on. Follow the rules, licences must be renewed every few years and the ten percent tax were just about it. There was no harm in agreeing to them.

 

But just in case, I looked over the normal papers. A few extra clauses regarding death or injury on the job, how you were responsible for injuries but minor compensations would be given for any deaths.

 

Notably, neither forms asked for any proof of a criminal record or past history, it only asked for your experience and capabilities. 

 

“Here,” I said, signing off Dustin on my form, handing it to Lucy whose face seemed to have regained some colour.

 

“I’m done as well,” Matt said next to me. Huh, he put his name as Noam, that was his in-game name if I remembered correctly.

 

“Thank you,” Lucy nervously said, “I’ll have these processed and you can pick up your licences within two to three days.”

 

I nodded, “We’ll come back later then,” I said, already turning around.

 

There was still too little I knew about this world. I needed to gather more information.

---

“Ummm…” Lucy began, eyes darting around the empty room, “Vice Guildmaster, where are you?”

 

“I keep telling you, just call me Maz,” the dark elf muttered, suddenly just there, sitting on the reception desk.

 

Lucy, not yet used to the Guildmaster’s antics, couldn’t help but yelp in fright.

 

Maz chuckled, hopping off the desk.

 

“Those Travellers were rather odd weren’t they?” she idly asked Lucy, picking up one of the coins the Travellers left behind. Idly rolling it between her fingers.

 

“I wouldn’t know Vice- Ms Maz,”

 

Maz snorted, “Cut the formal crap, I already had enough of it dealing with that Myconid.”

 

“Of course Ms-” Lucy stopped, realising her next words, and instead started furiously nodding.

 

Maz snorted again but didn’t comment otherwise. There was never a need for adventurers to worry about useless stuff like formality.

 

‘Though we aren’t called adventurers anymore are we?’ she reminisced.

 

She raised the coin to her eyes, curiously inspecting it. As if looking into it would give her some more information on its previous owner. But she was no diviner, able to determine what a person ate last year by the position of their sunspots. Her methods were different and they told her enough.

 

Many knew that Travellers went through forms like used napkins, however those two can’t be experienced Travellers.

 

Not only did they lack common knowledge, but they weren’t that experienced in combat, a rare trait for Travellers. Despite the fact that both of them were openly cautious about her, neither made a move when she flicked her hand. Anyone that has fought a mage before knows that Somatic spells were the favoured ones. Hand gestures can be hidden, Mage Tongue cannot.

 

“Those Travellers are new,” she concluded, “not just in body but also in mind.”

 

She sighed, “I suppose I must send a note to all the other branches, Lucy, tell Maddie when he comes back to find me immediately.”

 

“Yes, Mam!”

 

Maz leaned on the desk, “We may get swamped with work pretty soon,” she quietly murmured, already dreading the paperwork that came with new Travellers appearing.

 

“Umm…” Lucy began.

 

“Ask,” Maz said.

 

“What do you mean by more work?” she finished.

 

She glanced at the young woman, remembering that Lucy probably wasn’t alive for the last one, “New Travellers only means two things Lucy,” Maz explained, “a fuck ton more of them are coming, and Daves’ is open again.”

---

“I’ll be heading off to the library,” Dustin said, “wanna join?”

 

Noam thought about it for a moment, it would probably be polite to follow Decs around for a while longer, but he was heading for a library. Those quiet as hell places where there was little to do other than read.

 

“Nah,” Noam replied, “I’ll go explore a bit more on my own.”

 

Dustin nodded, “Cool, message me if you need-” he paused, “what do you two want?”

 

“Me?” Noam asked.

 

“No not you Matt- Noam, whatever the hell- bored? How do familiars get bored?” he asked in an exasperated tone. “Hey Noam, babysit these two for me,” he reached up into his cap, two tiny myconids hopping onto his hand.

 

“They can go far from you?” Matt asked as he helped the two hop onto his shoulder.

 

“Not for too long, they need my mana to refill every now and again.”

 

The myconids squeaked something, “Ah, nevermind then,” Dustin added.

 

“Mind translating?” Noam asked, glancing questioningly between the tiny myconids on his shoulder and Dustin. The small myconids in question were unsuccessfully trying to climb onto the top of his head. Noam lifted a hand to help them up.

 

“Oh they’re gonna eat your mana,” Dustin translated as the two successfully made it to the top of his head.

 

“How would they do that?” Noam asked.

 

Dustin shrugged, “No clue.”

 

Both myconids plopped down on top of his head and Noam felt the two parted his hair, creating a thin spot which exposed his skin, a tickling sensation soon followed.

 

“Huh, I did not know they could do that,” Dustin said.

 

“Why, what’s happening?” Noam asked, his hand brushing against the myconids as he tried to feel what they were doing. The two squeaked in protest as Noam felt a fabric like film around where the myconids were roosting.

 

“They’re... growing?” Dustin said confused, “Yeah growing is the right word,” he confirmed, “into your scalp.”

 

“Is that dangerous?” Noam asked, slightly alarmed.

 

“Eh,” Dustin shrugged, “probably not, I took symbiosis, not parasitism, so you should be fine.”

 

He glanced hesitantly at the top of Noam’s head, “Yeeuup. Probably.”

 

Noam gave Dustin a withering stare, “Decs, I swear to god if I get head fungus I’m kicking your ass.”

 

“Well…” he hesitated a bit, “technically you already do,” he raised a hand as Noam’s fingers brushed against his halberd, “but it’s probably not harmful, though message me if you suddenly start feeling weird.”

 

The mushrooms on top of him squeaked, “Yes, I know that you two don’t mean to harm him,” Dustin said, gesturing to Noam, “but I’m trying to tell him that.”

 

“Can you tell them that if they make me bald or something I’m going to make them into soup?” Noam asked.

 

“Don’t worry they already understand you,” Dustin replied.

 

“Oh, great,” Noam replied. He rolled his eyes upwards until he could glimpse the two mushrooms looking down from his scalp, then sternly said, “If you guys make me bald I’m turning you two into soup.”

 

The two mushrooms squeaked in affirmation and even gave him a thumbs up.

 

“You’ll be fine,” Dustin chided, “I’m sure they’ll grow on you.”

 

Noam slapped his face, and the two mushrooms on his head began chittering in delight.

---

Dustin stepped into the calm quiet of the library.

 

He glanced around, there was a receptionist desk near the entrance, a middle-aged man sat behind it, his head deep into a book.

 

“Excuse me,” he asked, “where can I find the history section?”

 

“Third row, behind the tables,” the librarian replied without looking up from his book.

 

“Thanks.”

 

The librarian grunted a reply, clearly not paying attention.

 

Dustin walked away, his steps soft on the hard wooden floor. Arriving at the bookshelf that was much taller than him, he took out a book and began skimming.

---

A cool wind was blowing from the shores and the docks were alive with activity. People of various races and clothing were walking about. The large majority were humans, but Noam spotted a few with pointed ears, likely Elves. There were a few very short looking folks that he guessed were either gnomes or dwarves. Some people had a few animal-like features such as tails or an extra set of ears. Others were completely animalistic.

 

Noam took a moment to breathe in the fresh, salty air of the sea. It was a nice day, he thought, patting the two shrooms on top of his head.

 

He began whistling, and idly strolling along the docks. The two mushrooms perked up at the sound and started mimicking him.

 

Noam amusedly glanced up at them, a small grin creeping onto his face. He began whistling into a deeper tone. The two squeaked, as if accepting the challenge. Then copied the sound exactly.

 

Noam’s eyebrow arched up, then whistled high and low notes in rapid succession. Going in seemingly random patterns. The two mushrooms were silent for a moment, one of them tried to copy him, but failed after the first few notes, unable to quickly alter their tone.

 

Noam chuckled, and patted the two on the head, “Decs hasn’t gotten around to naming you two yet?” he murmured.

 

One of the mushrooms squeaked out something that sounded like an affirmation.

 

“Hmm… gotta get around to that then,” he muttered, before pausing in front of a building.

 

“A tavern…” he quietly murmured, ‘What does alcohol taste like…’ he pondered.

 

“Aight,” he said, clapping his hands as he reached a decision, “let’s get shit drunk.” he declared as he pushed open the door.

 

“Ah, welcome!” he heard a voice yell from the back, “Bit busy now so find your own seat!”

 

He glanced around. Not much free room, there was this one dude who was sitting alone by a table. Casually, he walked up to him, “Mind if I sit here?”

 

The lizard person glanced at him, then at the two mushrooms roosted on his head.

 

He sighed, “Yeah sure I guess,” he replied in a tired tone.

 

Noam sat in front of him, “Yo, my name's Noam.”

 

“Gnome?” the lizard asked, “ah well. My name's Lung.”

 

“Nice to meet you Lung,” Noam replied.