The sun shined above in the center of the sky up high. The foreigner stared at the Guild hall’s main doors. So many long…long…hours…she had waited, or at least…experienced as such, to finally be able return.
Yet, nevertheless…she lingered beyond the doors, not entering despite having been so…not necessarily eager as much as…needy. All around the exterior…in this island of a plaza, so many denizens lingered, wandered, and made way…making all kinds of…noises.
Though, none of such compared…to the noises emanating from within this building.
Truly…she really…could not stand those noises…made by those denizen throats and mouths. All of their laughter and speakings and…crying and screaming…and…begging, they were all as if…sharp needles that jabbed and stabbed at her decaying mind, injecting…poison that leaked and bled…even if she could not comprehend the whys.
Yet…she just needed to do…this; to walk in there and find this ‘partner’ or whatever…and then she could finally be given her quests…her missions…all those directives and tasks to do…and keep doing and doing…until she finished them all…or died. Such was all that she needed to…focus on…her directives and tasks…not that rotting venom bleeding into her mind from its own shadow.
Though…working with others could…perhaps…be more of a problem, considering what had happened the last time…she had so taken others under her apparent custodianship. Indeed…she always preferred being in charge of…inanimate things that could not breathe…things that did not care to die.
She continued to linger outside the doors…hesitancy entering her veins. Such thoughts and cogitations were not the only things…preventing her from opening those doors and entering, however. A strange hunch and…feeling lingered within; indeed…her so-called ‘fellows’ could perhaps be…far more aware of her than the receptionist presumed.
The foreigner took in a deep…deep breath, taking in all the air around. Truly…this air…it was so…so……clearly filled with carcinogens…but it was still fresh and natural air, at least. Indeed, she had to remind herself that…she could feel and…experience such air…that she could feel…the wind’s breeze on her skin and hair…feel it enter through her nose and into her lungs.
There was something rather…calming about this…rather hot…air; right, it was…probably ‘summer’. Her pale-peach skin…no wonder it had been especially irritated as of late. Indeed, she still preferred the touch of the cold air…but, nevertheless, this was…decent enough.
She inhaled and exhaled…yet still did not move.
Ugh, this hesitancy was becoming…irritating deep down within. Truly…she hated this weird…disgusting…weak feeling of “vulnerability”, peh. « Síc semper ad mortem și non aetaem aeternam! » she said out to herself in vowing determination.
Her mind abruptly clearing itself, she finally sprung open that very main door and stepped right into the Guild hall without any delay or second thought…only to be immediately bombarded by the sheer magnitude of…denizen noises. Quite the diverse array, in fact, but such were all just different shades of the same…ear-ravaging…barbar-sounds.
The foreigner, stepping in with the door’s shut behind, looked around…somewhat overwhelmed—on the inside—from the sudden mass-volley of these…noises. Truly…it had been rather the months...since she had stepped into such a…condensed denizen-filled environment.
The Guild hall seemed far more occupied than the first time she had stepped in here…more busy, seemingly. Truly, for such a supposedly dying institution it certainly seemed lively and more full…even if still not at capacity.
Stepping in closer, she eyed the main counter area; that same dark-blue vest receptionist as always…still there, though now with her usual peer. The receptionist eyed the entering foreigner, smiling a charming…yet still clearly donned…smile, as she attended to her affairs; her eyes so seemingly nudged in the direction of that social hub, insistently so.
The foreigner sighed; ah, straight to the ‘partner’ and or ‘party’ searching, then? Ugh.
She approached but did not enter…the social hub, lingering near the small stair-set instead. So filled it was…with a colorful array of denizens of…different denizen-types with varying manners of…denizenity. Her breathing…became somewhat shallow and heavy; she felt dizzy and light in both head and mind. Already, so quickly, were the noises…getting to her. But…she had not the choice but to endure it.
She stepped off more to the side…there was a wooden railing of sort which divided the gap between the social hub and the main area…she followed it towards the corner-wall; relaxing her posture, she leaned against it as her eyes began to…simply evaluate.
Hmm…how did one even go about such…socializings again? Truly…her tolerances, her parroting acts, and all such skills she had learned prior…had eroded so quickly in only a short few…dozens of months of letting them rust; thus, all she could for now…was simply evaluate and wait to see…which would be her picking.
Most adventurers were seemingly too engrossed in their own…whatever speakings and doings, that they did not bother to notice the sudden presence and arrival of a new unfamiliar face…or half-a-face rather. A handful, however, did quickly notice…and began to eye her, whispering among their fellows, conversating, evaluating, judging…and…remarking.
“Hey take a look at that sexy-looking broad…who’s she now?”
“Huh? Oh…just a new Copper from the looks…oh Gods’ sacred toilet a fancy-mask Gunslinger wannabe gal too; haven’t seen one of those in a while…”
“Probably a Company daughter who got fancy shooters with daddy’s coin too…pfft”
“I don’t really know ‘bout that, would a Company seedling even join as a Copper? And also…that one looks like a taverneer that’s been dragged into a mud-brawl over and over again and won…dangerous looking one, I’ll say that much”
“…I don’t know what you bunch are on about, I wasn’t even looking at her face haha…but those legs and thighs…oh she’s a worker alright…”
“…”
“…”
More eyes took notice of her presence…staring and glaring, whispering and remarking…though a plenty simply tuned her existence out.
“…oh, a new Copper…never seen that one before”
“Hmm? Oh hey, yeah; she looks like a brawler too; haven’t seen a Copper that wasn’t a pissing Copper-merchant in a long while…peh”
“Eh…look at that fat coin-pouch on her…she’s definitely done nothing but collection quests”
“Why even bother joining the Adventurers’ Guild if they’re just gonna be a merchant?”
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“Oh what the? Look, look…is that dwarf shit? Haven’t seen…handgunns like that before…”
“…yeah that’s a lot of firepower, Trinity’s Son…that’s a maid alright…”
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“Oh look, is that…who…she’s part of our branch?”
------
“…oh hey hey hey hey…look who’s here…”
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“…Huh? H-hey, you three, look! Gods’ sacred after all these months…I never thought I’d see that harlet ever again…”
Indeed, as more realized her presence…more and more, largely Copper, Iron, and Steel, eyes and faces…became ever-more…antagonistic upon the realization…that she was, in fact, present.
Many murmurs, whispers, and voices began to speak among themselves…as certain eyes glared and stared…becoming more and more…upset.
“HEY, WHAT THE?! THAT’S THE BITCH WHO STOLE OUR SEA SHRUBS!” so suddenly exclaimed accusatively…an Iron-ranked adventurer, standing up and pointing right at her.
So quickly…did the entire space turn silent, as startled eyes stared at the accuser…and then lanced their attention…straight at the accused, glaring at her.
Ah…thus it was so: her hunches turned out to be true.
“Huh?! Y-your party too?! She’s the one who stole a full whole sack of our glow-stones a few months back! Nearly lost my arm trying to make up for that!!” so shouted another in response, standing up in kind.
“YEAH! US TOO! She stole our glow-hearts! We had to do that whole shit all over again!” so another exclaimed, before turning their accusative eyes straight to her; “OUR LEAD LOST HIS MANHOOD BECAUSE OF YOU!”
“YEAH, WAIT WHAT?! SHE’S THE ONE WHO STOLE OUR STINK-FLOWERS!!” so shouted another…
Then another…followed by many more others, all standing up and lambasting in shout. Suddenly, all ears and eyes around…were made aware of this apparent serial thief among them.
The receptionist…witnessing all of this suddenly unfold, tilted her head…and simply stared with rather a certain…widened stare…as everything just sort of…came tumbling out from nowhere. Her peer, however, was cold in her glare…barely surprised.
Indeed…quite a plenty of her fellows were, in fact, rather familiar with the foreigner and her…antics, no thanks to her…abandonment of discretion in such tactics. Though…why none had ever bothered to report her before now was…well…irrelevant.
The foreigner, seeing where this was turning, backed away somewhat…and then more and more, all the way to near the quest-board, as the accusing adventurers began to form a sort of blob of ire, all their eyes staring right at her…and not at all pleasantly.
She turned and looked at the silent receptionist…whose eyes and face spoke more than words ever could, would that the foreigner…saw anything more than blurs. Bewildered and shocked, a mind still processing it all; this was…not at all what the receptionist was expecting to come from this all.
The blob of accusing adventurers continued to lambast and shout as individuals…turned to mob, their collective irritation…mutually fueling each other’s, perhaps…expanding out of proportion than such otherwise would have.
They began to draw closer to the backing away foreigner, though…far more fixated on their communication than movements.
“Thief! Thief! You should be ashamed of yourself!”
“You have ANY idea whatsoever how much PAIN you caused our party??!! We nearly DIED because of needing to make up for your THEFT!”
“You could’ve just ASKED US, YOU KNOW?!”
“THIEVING SLUTS LIKE YOU HAVE NO PLACE IN OUR GUILD, GET THE FUCK OUT BEFORE WE MAKE YOU!”
Thus among so many other words and phrases, they shouted and peppered away as they descended ever-closer.
The foreigner stood where she was; silent…as their anger and relentless noises…pierced and numbed her mind…as she simply absorbed it all; reality…began to wither and loosen, as everything suddenly…no longer felt real.
Everyone else uninvolved remained in their places, watching it all unravel…though none of them had anything pleasant to say either…even those who once did.
“…a serial quest thief…in our branch? What are we? Grandberry?”
“Pfft…what a disgrace”
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“Once or twice, maybe, fine…but four…five parties…making the same accusation? Trinity’s Son lady…”
“Beh…Far Westerners, what do you expect from their kind? Thieves, all of them…can’t help but steal from the whole world and shit all over our lands…”
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“…yeah, but she saved our asses…we wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for her…”
“Yeah, our party too…but still…serial thievery in this profession? That’s just…disgusting…I wonder how many she’s indirectly got hurt or even…killed just because…”
“ALRIGHTLY! WE GET IT! NOW SHUT IT! THIS A GUILD HALL! NOT A TAVERN!” so finally shouted sternly and authoritatively, the receptionist’s peer and supervisor.
The entire Guild hall suddenly and swiftly turned silent, the small crowd pausing and going mute.
The peer sighed…turning her eyes to the still frozen receptionist, leaning into her ear; “Looks like your favorite apple was not only sour…but rotten; didn’t I tell you all those months ago something was up with her? And even beforehand not to get too attached? Now…you see why” thus she whispered; “a half-six parties…making the same accusation…it’s clear she’s guilty; chief’s out today, so this falls under me…but now it falls under you…she’s your rotten apple, not mine” she added in firmly stern remark.
The receptionist sighed in acknowledgment, pinching her forehead; “I know…” she replied; taking a deep breath, she exited from the counter area and made way to the foreigner…though not too close, moving in-between the crowd and foreigner to separate the two.
She looked at the foreigner with such dark and cold eyes…yet the foreigner could only look with evasive eyes…strange feelings filling her empty being; not filled with guilt…rather…something else, caused by that certain way the receptionist was looking at her.
“Nilia de Relevancia” thus the receptionist began to say, “…members of almost seven parties…are accusing you of thievery…are these the accusations levied against you true?” she interrogated; “Please. Do not bother lying.” she added, strictly.
The foreigner…looked down and away…before staring in kind, sighing; « Fortasșe ita’st verù » she replied in hallow tone; “Yes, perhaps” she repeated.
“ ‘Perhaps’?! LADY! We SAW you as CLEAR as sun in day!!” so lambasted an adventurer from the crowd…though, quickly quieted due a certain peer’s glaring eye.
The receptionist…nodded away, still in slight shock…her mind still…struggling to really…grasp…the events unfolding, even as full realization…began to take hold. “Gods’ sacred, Nilia…so this entire time you have been…thieving against other adventurers? That would…certainly explain all of the…inconsistencies and poor record-tallying…you weren’t collecting or even…you didn’t bother to even check…just thieved and turned in, then?” she remarked…in disbelief.
Indeed…so sudden had what was supposed to be a revitalizing day been flipped upside down…so sudden did her trust in the foreigner just…evaporate into absolute nothing; betrayed utterly.
Yet, the foreigner remained cold and static, standing her ground strictly in kind; “It is a valid approach” thus she said bluntly; “also, the same had happened to me; so I did not think it was a problem; I thought it was normal” she so coldly added.
The receptionist’s eyes merely widened…staring bewildered; “Nilia…thieving once is already a serious crime in most realms…but this? If we were not the Guild…you would be tortured to death!” she remarked loudly.
“Serial thieving of quest-items of fellow Guild members is a very serious breach of the expected conduct agreement which had been read to you…by me…and which you had signed; it is a betrayal of the Guild’s trust and…of my trust…in you!” she lambasted, far more charged…attempting to keep herself together; “So…tell me, almost seven parties, fifteen people present…how many more?” she interrogated.
The foreigner sighed; “I did not count. I did not care to. I still do not see the problem. They did the same to me and probably the others. If this was the problem, why did they not report me to you? Clearly, it is because they do the same.” thus she replied matter-of-factly and with hallow voice; “After all, is it not the point of the quests to find and to ‘thieve’ things? The crystals, the artifacts, the pieces of dead things. Or…is it only ‘wrong’ when it is done to you all?” she remarked; her voice cold, frigid, without remorse or regret or any affect…words said accusatively.
The others so very much tried their best to not snap at her, mouths and lips and faces…twitching with suppressed ire.
The receptionist’s eyes only…stared with more bewilderment…at a complete and total loss; the foreigner was…sour before…but truly…this…this was just…rotten; was this…who this girl truly was…and had been…this entire time? Had whatever it was she had so seen in her before…just a serpent’s illusion?
She resisted the urge to tear up, her eyes evading down as she pinched her forehead; “This is not at all what this was supposed to become…not at all…” she mumbled out, her stomach feeling so…sick.
Her mind flaring, her eyes shifted to the static and affectless foreigner; “Nilia…what in the Gods’ ruling might…is…wrong with you?” she so bluntly interrogated, yet her staring eyes faltered…as did her charged breaths; “…I get it now…just as she said….you really are just a rotten apple, not even sour…rotten; you were…never sweet at all…just a serpent…a lying thieving serpent…I get it, how did I not see it before?” she breaths uttered out in remark…charged words merely bleeding out from her emotionally fluxed mind…said not with pure belief or intent.
The foreigner sighed; « Bona quaesțion énterrogatùr. Mah…qués șcjat? Na ģe çertissimë jo neșcjo » she blurted in frigid reply; “But for me…it is this entire place that is so wrong and stupid; a lie made by the greatest abomination…filled with the most useless and most worthless of peoples…whose only purpose is to complain, to annoy with noises, and to roll around in the mud…with their imagined nonsenses that only give themselves more misery…always ignorant of the reality that all of your existences…were condemned and doomed before the day that you all were even created”
Thus, she replied in full; her voice so hallow and cold; words so empty and filled with such…bitter contempt.
The adventurers around, hearing these words, stared her down; they could no longer withhold their ire.
“This. fucking. BITCH!” so shouted one all so suddenly.
“WHAT a fucking VENOMOUS HARLET! The AUDACITY!” so shouted another.
“YOU SHUT YOUR TAIL-FUCKED MOUTH RIGHT NOW! YOU FAR WESTERN THIEVING SLUT!” so shouted another…then another…then another…and then another…as the crowd’s fury reignited, as they all began to draw closer…hailing so many words and shouts.
The receptionist…quickly backed away somewhat, eyes turning to her peer…both equally concerned as this situation was evidently growing beyond their hands’ control…no thanks to the foreigner’s provocations.
“FAR WESTERN VIPERS AND THEIR EGO! I HOPE THE DEMON-KING COMES BACK TO DEATH-RAPE YOU SPECIFICALLY!”
“SAY THAT SHIT AGAIN YOU COMPANY-BITCH! HOW MANY OLD-MAN TAILS HAS THAT FILTHY MOUTH OF YOURS SUCKED?!”
“SERIOUSLY! YOU NEED TO EXPEL THIS THIEF-SNAKE NOW OR WE PROMISE TO THE GODS WE’LL DO IT OURSELVES!”
“SHE HAS NO RIGHT TO WEAR THAT BADGE!”
Thus shouted…shout after shout…so many shouts.
Ah…truly…what a long-long time it had been…these noises of anger and ire. Fine. Hate her. She did not care; she never cared. It was the expectations…always the expectation. To be hated, to be ridiculed, to be despised, to be corned and loathed…
Truly, she had heard even worse words, phrases, curses, and idioms pierce her ears across more languages than any of these primitives could so possibly even begin to count. All these lambasting sounds uttered by such shouting crowds…truly…it was all so familiar…deep down within…almost nosologically so.
This scene…this exact scene…over and over again…such had played out…each and every time and time again. Indeed…she could not help but…simply smirk from the irony of it all…a smirk she did not even know that she was making…such a contemptable smirk…visible to all but herself. Reality…only further retreated away…as existence itself felt as though it were a dream without escape.
Yet suddenly, a lancing smack…as the whole world turned to black.
