[IC] Sword and Dungeon: An Adventurer's Guild-based Fantasy RP

[VitaVitaAR]

The air was warm. There was the sound of children playing in the streets, of dogs barking, and of birds singing. Throngs of people strolled over the cobblestones, stopping to perform deliveries, to buy goods, or for idle chatter.

It was Summer in Venne, and the city's people were taking full advantage of this fact. The mild, pleasant weather made conditions ripe for a variety of activities, both for business and for pleasure. Nobles conducted business and political dealings, merchants sold their wares, farmers tended to their livestock.

But these ideal conditions merely applied to the weather. A perfect world where nothing goes wrong, alas, does not exist.

That is why the Adventurer's Guild was also busy today. Good weather didn't wasn't only beneficial to Estival's citizens, but also to beasts and other creatures that could threaten them. Not only that, but it also meant that the archaeological digs by the Mage College had started up again, which was another avenue of work for Venne's Guild branch.

A tall, sloped roof marked the building itself, the interior quite wide with an arched cieling supported by high beams. The first floor was split into the guild reception area to the right and a recreational tavern meant for the guild's members to the left. Above was the guild's housing, available to any guild members who required it. It was often quite full, mostly due to the convenience of living right above the job board.

Just like the streets, the guild was currently bustling.

A large number of new jobs had been posted recently, for all different levels of adventurer. Taking care of bandits who had step up on the road between Keelsgravv and Pelle, looking for lost livestock, handling pests in the basement of a recently-purchased building, and even a job asking for adventurers to deal with a dragon that had apparently been harassing Dansbell.

---That last job posting may not have been entirely serious in nature. Surely there would have been news of a dragon near one of Estival's cities before a job was posted at the guild branch.

The receptionists at the desk were currently a little swamped. With all the jobs coming in, there were plenty of adventurers accepting them and registering with the guild. Today, the Gold-ranked party lead by Alan the Hawk was present, registering some difficult quest or another

Other adventurers were more relaxed near the bar, ordering food and drinks. The hulking figure of the male ingvarr adventurer Magnus, still clad in his heavy armor, towered above many others even seated as he drank beer after beer with seemingly no sign of stopping.

And yet, some adventurers were in less then fine moods.

---

---Hmph.

It's ridiculous.

Is ridiculous even harsh enough? Maybe it's more like an insult.

After all this hard work, after everything I've done, all the success I've earned, and crushing every single walking corpse in that tomb---

Iron.

The word stares back at me on my guild registration, as if it's trying to taunt me.

How is this fair? How am I only iron-rank?

The fact I've had to earn experience this way was already frustrating. It's not as if there's any problem with adventurers. Plenty of paladins sign on with adventurer's guilds for convenience's sake, and in order to be able to assist the local people on a regular basis. There's no problem with that.

But that's not why I've been made to sign on.

I'm here because despite everything, despite my capabilities and dedication, they think I still need experience.

It wouldn't be so bad, but---

Iron!? Seriously?!

"Hmph!"

I stuff the registration in my bag and cross my arms over my chest. Seriously, how badly mistaken can you possibly be?

Even Steel would be more accurate. I'd have accepted that just fine, but the people in charge of guild evaluation said something about 'lack of experience' and---

Ugh, just thinking about it makes my blood boil.

Fine. If they think I'm just Iron-level, then I'll just have to show them the truth. I'll take on a challenging job, the highest rated job I can possibly accept at this level, and conquer it easily in the name of Reon. That will show them how badly they've underestimated me.

---Nngh, why does it have to be so crowded today?

I can see the backs of various adventurers hanging around the job board, examining the listings. There's not a lot of room to squeeze in, at the moment, and they're all blocking my view.

I lean to the left, putting my weight into one foot as I try to peer around them, clenching my teeth in irritation.

I can't see past the crowd. I stretch with my feet, rising on my toes to try and see if I can peer through any gaps, but it's not enough to make out any of the listings. There's plenty of them, of course, but that doesn't help when there's a bunch of morons blocking the way. Can't they tell I'm trying to see? Are they blind?

There's definitely not any other reason, after all.

There's no point in trying to be patient any longer. If they won't let me in, I'll simply have to let them have it.

"Excuse me!"

---

Corinne and Liliane

Part of the reason for the guild’s excessive business this afternoon could be placed at the feet of one adventurer for fun: after a few rather banal missions, Liliane had finally agreed that her wife was ready to come along to something that actually had a hint of danger and, more importantly, where they didn’t risk paying homeowners to get their basements fixed after a somewhat overzealous fireball. Corinne had decided this was worthy of celebration and, after a few moments’ consideration, declared that all the food and drinks would be on her today.

Nothing pulled adventurers in to hang around like a free meal.

Not that this was the first time; Corinne liked to pick any excuse to shower friends and acquaintances with an impromptu party. It did mean the sycophants would be more annoying for a little while, but it also eased the minds of the local powers that the foreign noble wasn’t really going to be too much of a problem to their interests. Despite ingratiating Corinne to more than enough people that she’d started to actually put down enough roots here to break even…

Quite how such a ditzy girl had managed to effectively make a home away from home to the point the only thing she relied on parental support for was to get nice wine mystified Liliane.

Speaking of nice wine, the mage had of course brought a bottle along from home (and then sent back for another around lunch), which had made her more and more affectionate as time went on, now quite literally cuddled up against her and chattering away about whatever caught her attention in Ithillane.

“Oooh, do you think Magnus is going to set a new record today? He got here pretty early, and he’s so big, he might do it!”

“Maybe…” Liliane sighed, “Can you let me go just for a few minutes? I need to get missions.”

And pick. There was no way that her wife would be any good at judging them.

“Nooooo! You’re cosy…”

Wait for someone to join them it was.

@Raineh Daze@Rune_Alchemist@Animal@The Otter@Octo@Psyker Landshark@ERode@Eisenhorn@HereComesTheSnow

[Octo]

Hrefna smiled lazily as she approached the Guild, black heels clacking against cobblestone while blood seeped into the cracks between. If eyes weren't on the short Ingvarr woman, they certainly were on the three Orc heads dangling from her fingers. The Three Brothers swung gently from their long black hair as Hrefna strode, unbothered, through the guild doors.

The triplets had been making trouble at a bridge nearby, their numbers and tactics too perilous for a beginner but not serious enough for a veteran. While the lower-ranks waffled trying to get a group together, Hrefna simply went out and took care of the thing. Each head being taken by another brother's axe was quite poetic, and would make for an excellent story, but it was purely efficient.

For Hrefna, bringing back recognizable proof was one of the more difficult parts of the job.

As she approached the counter with a bloody missive crumpled between a mass of craniums, her eyes caught a lone child on her tiptoes awkwardly swerving around the sweaty mass that surrounded the board. She chuckled as she approached.

"Worry not, small child. They will disperse when easy jobs all taken," she spoke in a very distinctly Barukstaedian accent, "unless... you want easy job, tiny one? Your polite words will never reach them. If you want, you must take. If you do not have the strength to push to front of line, you are too weak even for children jobs."

She let out a harsh laugh at her own joke, the heads swinging raucously from her fingertips as if the Brothers were also laughing.

[Eisenhorn]

Abigail Blackthorn

---

"I swear you live within earshot of this bar, you always beat me here when someone else is footing the bill."

Abigail commented while waiting for her next drink, fingers tapping impatiently on the counter of the bar as Magnus slammed back yet another drink. The Ingvarr being able to put mug after mug of beer down without missing a beat did not surprise her, hell, if he was incapable of doing so, that would have been the surprise. What always stood out was how the man seemed to always be here before anyone else, doubly so whenever free food and drink was being shelled out for again. Abigail always kept an ear out for whenever some celebration or another was going on, at least when she was already here drinking her latest earnings away, since that basically meant yet another day she could drink without cutting into her funds. Hell, if it happened enough she might actually be convinced to spend her coin on something more tangible for once. Maybe.

Pragmatically, despite the fact that the latest batch of new jobs were officially posted, it was pointless rushing the board. It was an absolute crush, and while Abigail could muscle her way past with the best of them, she couldn't be bothered to. A lot of the postings were team efforts, and she had learned from experience that the enthusiastic ones would grab a bunch to check, and inevitably would need an extra pair of hands. Then she chimes in if she is in need of coin, and just like that, another day on the job is ensured. Being Steel ranked now helped with that even more, plus it meant she got larger payouts overall. Which meant stronger booze and, as she was finding, more opportunities to get her hands on gear she might otherwise not have. She was even considering real armor finally, though that would not be before her next quest.

Abigail was interrupted by her next drink arriving, which she promptly slammed back with the same enthusiasm she always had. The only beer she liked more than cold, was free, and these were both, so she wasted no time in downing it and flagging the barkeep down for another. While it certainly hit her smaller frame harder than others, she was a seasoned drinker at this point and knew how to keep from becoming a mess. She spared a glance towards the Hundi duo who were paying everyone's tabs and, by extension, hers in time to see the nominally responsible looking one be more firmly clung to, recognizing the Silver ranked adventurer and her wife from prior open bar events like this. That overt clinginess got an amused snort from Abigail regardless, chiming in as her next beer arrived.

"What's the excuse to loosen the purse strings and force the bar to restock this time? I would make a sly remark on the last one but I really don't remember how that day ended up going."

Abigail would not look at a gift like free food and drinks too closely, at least not here in the Guild proper. She was making all due effort to keep up with Magnus, mostly because that was just how she drank, though with how busy the bar was, and how understaffed it was, her intake was slow enough she was still mostly functional and sober. Just buzzed enough to feel the warmth settle in with each beer she did get her hands on. She had a long ways to go until she hit the point of becoming a mess, again, so for the time being the Hundi couple had her attention. Mostly since watching Magnus drink got old when it meant she was not getting as many drinks by proxy, though she did not strictly blame the Ingvarr for that.

[ERode]

"This...I can't accept this!" A woman, younger than Csenge by a handful of years, gripped the documents with such ferocity that her nails poked holes through them. Her expression was a common enough one in the adventurer's line of work, the sort of expression that told her exactly how this was going to go down.

First, denial.

"I honestly can't believe I paid for this sham service! Have you even tried to look into this?" She huffed and puffed, pacing around the private room that the Guild set aside for confidential meetings between clients and adventurers. "I know for certain that my husband's cheating on me!"

Csenge stayed seated, her own expression schooled in one of academic indifference, one worn many times before whenever a student tried to argue for a higher grade. "If you would read through the notes of my investigation again, miss, all incidents you've mentioned have had a very benign and innocent reason."

Second, anger.

"No!" The woman hurled the papers onto the ground. They scattered, slid, were trampled underfoot as she stormed up towards Csenge, awkwardly side-stepping around the table before she was able to tower over her. It was an attempt at intimidation, undoubtedly. But grandiose efforts at intimidation felt...almost laughable coming from a cloth merchant's wife. "I will not stand for this! Do you think you'll be paid for such half-assed effort? Aren't you a wizard? Haven't you tried reading his mind, or placing him under some truth-speaking geas? What about summoning a spirit to track his daily movements! Or simply divining the past? You haven't done anything have you? And you'd just sit there and say that you're done?!"

There was an intense desire to launch into a lecture in that moment, about how the rights of law-abiding citizens could not be infringed upon without authorization from the courts, and about how it would honestly be a gross violation of personal privacy if Csenge was to do even half of what the woman was bringing up. Nevermind the fact that she couldn't do any of those things at the drop of a hat either though. Instead, she took a breath, counted to three, and said, "Because physical evidence and eyewitness testimony is enough in this case. Trust me, if I had any suspicion that there was something else going on, or if your husband was covering his tracks in a manner that required it, I would have cast a spell to assist in the investigation. However, all individuals associated were forthcoming, and nothing in his past activities hinted at a tryst."

Third, bargaining.

The woman stared down at the investigator for a while longer, then fell back to sit on the table. "So...I'm just supposed to accept that? Because nothing was found this time, nothing can be done? I...I, that can't be right. Can't you continue for another week or two? I can still pay. There has to be something...I just can't..." Her hands curled over her dress. It was a fine one, better than any Csenge herself owned.

"You may request another job through the Adventurer's Guild if you wish, miss." Csenge said. "But our contract here has concluded. If you have any further complaints about the work I've done, please bring it up to the receptionist." Honestly, these sorts of cases always caused her a headache. Was there any reason to go through with this subterfuge? Could this not have been solved with a straightforward conversation? Certainly, she wouldn't have hired someone else to look into her private affairs. Not that she ever got anything close to that in her own life. Pushing her chair away, the investigator stood up, straightening her coat's lapel. "If you were seeking a reason to divorce him, I would recommend asking a specialist about this. Otherwise, it may be beneficial to look inwards rather than outwards."

"A divorce? No, I don't want that. I don't want that, but...oh. Oh no."

Was this the fourth stage? The fifth? Csenge cast another glance over at the woman, then briskly walked out. She certainly wasn't being paid enough to deal with that.

...

Whatever revelatory wailings may be heard in the Guild's private consultation rooms were, thankfully, inaudible compared to the early-morning ruckus of job-seekers. Observing from the second floor, Csenge noted with some distaste that a certain unstable Ingvarr saw it fit to bring a biological hazard back into the halls of the Guild, much to the chagrin of whichever administrative staff would be saddled with the work of cleaning off orc-juice off the floor. Really, the only thing that was decent about that mad cow was her unique magic, one that (though it was becoming somewhat more common over the years) covered nearly all aspects of adventurer work despite technically being a specialization: bolstering one's physique, tracking one's foes, generating tremendous levels of destructive force, and restraining or otherwise debilitating one's target.

Looked like she was having fun bothering a paladin even more diminutive than she was, at least. Csenge turned and took the staircase down to the main floor, stepping into the much sparser line-up of adventurers reporting a completed job and waiting a few minutes before standing before the receptionist.

"The investigation into William Morntrough's infidelity has been concluded, though I suspect the client will remain unhappy with this." Her words were dry, her eyes only half-open. She had put in the effort, two nights worth of effort, to write down an exhaustive report of the husband's activities. There had been nothing she overlooked, and yet, she doubted there would be anything like a bonus for completing this task. "Have there been any other noteworthy jobs you can refer me to?"

The receptionist was quick to respond. "Oh, of course. The Mage's College, actually, was g-"

"No, please."

"Then the transcription of the L-"

"No, thank you."

"Oh, actually, Marlowe Bushhound was req-"

"No." Steel-rank was where adventurers began to build a reputation for themselves, and Csenge once again was reminded that the reputation she had built for herself was completely opposed to the direction that she actually wanted to be going. "I'll look through the board myself."

"Of course!" The receptionist beamed. "If Miss Catherine Morntrough requests your services again, shall I..."

Goddesses above, fuck no. That case can only get far messier now, if she read the situation correctly. "Please let her know that I've taken on a long-term contract, and refer her to one of the others."

With that, Csenge strode the perimeter of the armed and ready warriors clustered around the job board, her stuffy attire making her look more like a client than an adventurer. Was there a job out there that'd suit her needs? Unlikely. But she NEEDED a job that would keep her out of town for the next little while, so what was there to do, except patiently wait for people to scatter?

And in any case, she could wait.

Ah, but maybe she should make some effort of hiding instead? In case, Catherine decided to skip the receptionist altogether and chase her down directly. Decisions, decisions...

[Raineh Daze]

Magnus

The Ingvarr's booming laugh was as close to deafening as always, the massive adventurer not even trying to argue the point. As much as it was posed as a joke, he was well known for taking advantage of the Guild's willingness to rent out rooms to any adventurer happy to pay for it. You might find cheaper elsewhere, but at least with the guild, you didn't have to worry about being kicked out or even finding the place.

The man took another swig before replying, scratching his beard, "It seems Liliane has finally said the little lady can do proper missions."

The majority of adventurers had some experience with the safe missions copper rank adventurers would take on their own. Local pest control, or sometimes even basic labour if someone was in that much of a rush. They weren't glamorous, but if you couldn't prove your skills as obviously too advanced and jump ahead straight away, it was the best you were going to get. Even then, a newcomer would find themselves under probation for a while, accompanied to make sure they actually did the job properly.

And, to a man, everyone hated those jobs. No wonder it had been deemed cause for a celebration – especially when your skill set just didn't lean towards the small things.

@Eisenhorn

[VitaVitaAR]

Tch, can't anyone take a hint already? Ugh, just because there's all the new jobs on the board doesn't mean---

The scent of iron is something that isn't hard to recognize, when you've smelled even once before. Blood is hard to miss. And right now, it's tainting my nostrils, my fingers unconsciously tightening.

Did some idiot start a fight and draw blood or something---?

Oh.

Ngh, couldn't she put those in a bag or something...?

I've seen this ingvarr woman before. A couple of times, since I signed up as an adventurer. But now she's carrying in severed heads.

The green skin and those features make it clear they're orcs, meaning they were probably part of a job due to their habit of pillaging and attacking people. So it's not like it's a surprise she was out dealing with orcs. Not for an adventurer. But just carrying them around like that---

Aren't their people eating in here? Couldn't she have grabbed a sack or something first?! And that outfit, too, why does it need to be so showy? Why does she need to walk around like that? Well, maybe she'll just get out of here first and---

"Excuse me? What did you say?"

It's not like an accent will defend her from me. Absolutely not. I understand what she just said loud and clear.

"I'm not a child," I say, flatly, crossing my arms over my chest, "If I was a child, I wouldn't even be permitted to go up to the jobs board! You must be blind if you think otherwise!"

Really, how could she even make that mistake? Well, given she's too dumb to pick up a sack so she's not carrying a bunch of orc heads around everywhere, maybe she's just stupid in general!

@Octo

[Rune_Alchemist]

Hyselia

---

@Octo@VitaVitaAR

"At the rate you're drinking Magnus, I hope whatever job you take next involves fighting an equally drunk dragon because that's going to be the only way you're useful." Not too terribly far away from Mganus and Abigail was a fairly large woman herself. The Lamia was curled up, sitting on top of her coils. Her already tall stature made a bit even more imposing and causing her to have to lean over slightly to properly get to her plate of food - a plate of Liver and Offal, perhaps a little heavy on the heart meat.

"Hopefully her over protectiveness hasn't dulled the runts skills," The Lamia harrumphed, taking a rather large bite of the meat on her plate. Probably thank them for the food at least. Not everyday she got to eat the most expensive offal and liver she could get her hands on in the guild. Her eyes would glance over to the job board idly. A mess as always. She had half a mind to just throw everyone aside. The smaller ones could be picked up easily, and perhaps used as an effective battering ram to get to the board, but on the other hand...her tail coiled a bit tighter.

"...too lazy." That was really the only thing she could use to describe how she was feeling. She was curled up, warm, and had plenty of food in front of her. Why would she ever want to -

"Ugh, blood...?" It didn't take the Lamia long to locate the source of the scent. A small Ingvarr had walked in, carrying not one, or two, but three orc heads like some sort of macabre flail. It was the kind of thing her mother would put on stakes to warn people to stay out of their little home. Did this woman have zero sense of decorum? And who was that tiny little thing next to her?

"Haaa, if I sit here any longer I'll turn into a fat dragon myself." Hyselia took one more bite of the offal before stretching and uncoiling herself. "Try not to drink the guild to bankruptcy." She'd slither off towards Hrefna and Rylia. It wasn't hard for her to make her way over to the pair, and the two could likely see her coming if Rylia wasn't blinded by her small, angry, rage at being called such.

"Can you put those in a bag or something? At least tie them to your waist before you go carrying them around like some macabre flail." She'd say slithering up to Hrefna.

Rylia would quickly find the Lamia's tail coiling around her waist and proceeding to lift her up over the crowd.

[Animal]

^{Location: Adventurer's Guild, Venne}

Freya Stonewall (Frieda Emberforge)

---

Coming down from the guild's upper housing area, the resident dwarf appeared to be in a rush much like any other. Cradled in her arms, wrapped in layers of cloth, is a freshly repaired longsword. The bloke who owned this weapon did a real number on it, a rookie no doubt or just a careless oaf. Fortunately, the damage wasn't severe enough to warrant new metal, but the wielder sure as hell deserves a scolding!

While pushing through the busy crowd, Miss Stonewall adjusted herself accordingly as to avoid any accidental bumps with the darn thing. She spotted the recipient by the bar, drowning themselves in booze alongside their peers. Good! The lot could use a refresher on how to maintain their equipment.

By her fake beard, she could use a drink right now.

Seemed like all hell was about to break loose when she marched over to the group and dropped the ragged sword onto their table. Freya fully intended to shame the poor lad in front of their friends about how the damage to their blade could've been easily avoidable. Maybe throw some shade at their receding hairline while they're at it, even though they showed no evidence of such. However, the moment her recipient offered a full tankard, her anger dissipated almost immediately.

...Ah, screw it! No point in wasting time arguing when the drinks are free today!

“Aye, -hic- don'cha forget to take the time to clean it every now and then.”

After chugging down a couple drinks herself, Freya miraculously managed to get her point across in the end. Last thing she needed on her conscious was letting someone go without knowing the fundamentals. Freya was compensated for her labor, but not for the repair kit and oil vials she tucked away in the cloth. A gesture of generosity that went beyond duty, something she couldn't freely display during her time in the mountains.

Freya decided to go wander off somewhere before they noticed the gift. Sheesh, how much did she drink in that short amount of time? Her legs felt like noodles. Struggling to walk proper, her aimless drifting eventually led her to the gathering around the job board. It was nigh impossible to push through this crowd. There has to be an opening of sorts, somewhere...The dwarf woman searched one section, found nothing, then attempted to move to survey another.

Only to find herself stepping in a small pool of orc blood, ewhk! Couldn't even wipe it off or risk losing her balance.

”Why?!” She said to no one in particular, but the one responsible should be nearby.

[Psyker Landshark]

Reeva Bonner

Another month, another coded report sent back to the homeland detailing how the Guild was the same as usual. Just another absurdly mundane month in the service of crown and country. Nevertheless, Reeva exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding when she dropped off the letter at the Guild's mail service, turning to leave with a casual wave behind her. As far as anyone reading it without knowledge of the cipher was concerned, it was just another monthly mail sent from her to some Cousin Blake out in the hinterlands.

She returned to the reception hall, intent on going through what jobs were available. It wasn't as if her true employers gave her any sort of material support for this kind of work beyond the bare minimum. After all, money she'd gotten that wasn't Guild-sourced would look far too suspicious. Especially considering her skillset and profession. No, better to live less lavishly than she'd like instead of giving the wrong people the idea that she was stealing for herself on the side. No matter the rogueish disposition, actual thievery wasn't well tolerated among civilized peoples.

Of course, Reeva's intent to peruse the board was disrupted by a commotion. Some idiot Ingvarr had brought three fresh orc heads in a bundle with her, still dripping with blood and staining the floorboards. Even worse, it seemed some people had stepped in it already. Reeva wasn't squeamish, not after becoming a trained assassin, but there was still basic decorum in public to consider. Honestly...

And then some little girl that had somehow acquired a set of armor and a ridiculously oversized hammer started yammering on about how she wasn't a child. Right, pull the other one. The hammer was impressive, though. Really, what were they feeding noble children these days that they could go and perform such feats?

Reeva snorted as the lamia, easily recognizable on account of her race, lifted the girl up with her tail. She approached, fixing an easy smile on her face.

"Come on, it's too early for all this yelling and protesting, isn't it? The orc blood isn't helping either. Let's just all look up jobs in peace, yeah? And speaking of, anything catch someone's eye yet? Receptionists leave any easy money on the table at all?"

[HereComesTheSnow]

It's been three weeks. Maybe brushing upon four, now— and I think I'm beginning to grasp it. I've been hard at work over this first month after I've walked free from whatever shackles, be they heavy black iron or solid imperial gold, there were 'round my mind, tying me in place to what I had grown into. I haven't nearly seen the full breadth of things, being Copper-ranked until five days ago— but I think I've run enough of the gamut, even in my low station, to arrive at the edge of something.

A thesis. Indeterminate in it's shape still, but I can feel at the bounds and start guessing for how I can pull it into the light. What I'll do then, I'm not totally aware. We're gonna be playing this thing by ear for a good minute, so skip to the parts with some color if you get bored.

I get, it's no skin off my back.

I close my eyes and lift the horn to my lips. Ale flows freer than water underneath this roof, and it's a mildly bitter, stale bread taste that washes over my tongue as the world turns black— and red is still splattered across it, like a stain on canvas. The din of a bawdy guild hall, filled to the brim with adventurers, is something that doesn't take me off my guard the way it was when I roused into it, but today a fair few voices in the higher and shriller registers are cutting through the dull roar I'm used to. It's fine. My own voice, for this piece, is something I can hear clear as day, unmuddied by the chorus of Memory singing out of tune and out of time. It's a blessing in that regard, but in broader views I wouldn't exactly leap to sing its' praises.

I set my drink down, and catch an unfamiliar face in the reflection— after plucking free a summer bug that picked a bad time for a swim. The face eyeing me is lean and hard, with a lot of straight lines and a vacancy in the eyes that's impossible to ignore once you hear why it's there. His hair is green like the dry grasses of spring, though I'm not exactly sure how in the hell I'd know that. That was the last guy's deal. I've only ever known summer.

The shrieking continues, and it bids my gaze upward— the Paladin that charged in not too long ago's squawking something about not being child, like if you look at her it wouldn't be a common mistake, when she only comes up to Magnus's beltline. In terms of height, the Ingvarr ain't much better, but their people tend to be endowed well enough to make up the difference, so it's a losing battle no matter how you slice it when, like Hrefna, your opponent feels like rubbing it in.

I've learned to just wait for her to get bored with it. Usually takes thirty seconds, we don't really know eachother well enough to indulge in shouting matches. But, these two are good lodestones for this thing I'm working on, if you squint at it.

Why do we need any of this? Why are there adventurer's guilds, why are there paladins, why are there Gods that people need to begin with? Rather existential, I know, navel-gazing at it's finest, but I'm at the point now where immediate concerns like food, shelter, and another domestic light beer are all easily sorted out. Iron rank is where adventuring 'becomes a thing' is the quote I'm basing this on, and so far it's held up fine. I've lead my horse to water, so it's time for the easy part. He'll either drink or he won't. Since I'm drinking, we may as well run with it. See where this goes. Because I'm beginning to think it all ties back fundamental truths about life.

They type you don't need to live very long to see, the type if you live long enough you might find reason to forget. Weakness, ugliness, There being no aristocrats of the soul to be found. Everybody, fundamentally, slots somewhere on that line, and I know I can't be all that different. There are ways I'm weak, there are ways I'm ugly. There are ways the Gods will surely look down on me, and see every flaw carved in. Carved in my heart and body, no matter my mind. That's what I think I'm learning to discover in others. It's what I'll have no choice, one of these days, to discover in myself. Not exactly looking forward to it, so mark that down in "weakness", I guess.

I rise. Board isn't going to get any less crowded, especially now that there's a whole damn lamia taking up half the approach. Business is booming, and we're all eager to profit off the backs of those that can't as those that can. I'm not here to question it, I need to eat too, but it's hard not to note down when you're learning these things all over again.

"Doubt she's gonna be any happier if you pick her up like that," I mention, while quickly shuffling my feet over to the rightward edge of the throng's perimeter and maneuver my club between me and that bunch. It's not that I expect a fight to break out, but I've had to learn firsthand how ornery stray cats get when they're manhandled like that— and I know that if it were me, already mad, and I were hoisted around so casually, I'd probably hate somebody chiming in when it was already enough of a scene.

She might throw things. Big hammer on her person might go flying, maybe her drink if she filled up before her tilt with the blood-trailing Ingvarr— I'd rather have a heavy elm branch between whatever projectile my empathy for weakness (thus implicit acknowledgement) earns and me than stuck uselessly in my other hand. I've been told it probably cracked my skull, and I've felt what it does to Goblins'— in tactile feedback, it's hard to beat. Gives the senses a rush, the same way alcohol slows them.

Point is, I'm confident it'll handle a flying tankard. If the hammer goes, I'll content myself with her swift ejection from the premises while I take stock of how bad I need to annoy the healers about my ribs. Far as I can tell, I've got alright ribs.

"Why what?" I murmur as the first question floats by in fed-up hiss from somewhere close, still keeping my eye out for how roped-into-this the collection of Paladin, Lamia, Hrefna, and now Reeva's intrepid ass intend to have me now that I've hustled over to what I understand as "safe distance". That's my reasoning for why I can't place who I'm responding to— I've got the stiff brown overcoat of the teacher lady in the corner of my eye, but neither the direction nor the pitch isn't right for it to have been her...

[The Otter]

Calaphindë

---

Stumbling into the Adventurer's Guild office in mid-day was never a great way to try and find a job. Certainly so for someone recently assigned to the Copper rank, having to compete with the rest for opportunities to prod diseased sheep into the right pens, deal with an ill-behaved bull, or stomp rats in a dingy basement. Doubly so if one was hoping to find someone of higher rank to tag along with, to go and do something more suitable to anyone with actual skills.

And yet, stumble in Calaphindë did, only barely keeping his feet as some other gaggle of adventurers pushed on past him. Probably would have gone right through him, if they were able. Terribly impolite, but it was the nature of things so far away from the elven towns he was familiar with. He shrugged, looked at the growing group by the job board...And promptly shook his head.

No point getting involved with that mess just yet. The bar was almost equally busy, some of the regulars at the guild guzzling down wine and ale like water. One ear twitched.

Was that Ithillane he heard? He turned towards the voices he heard. One Hundi, dressed like she was ready to hit the road at any moment, sitting resigned and firmly held onto by another Hundi dressed more like she expected to be in a rich family's carriage rolling down the street. What had they been saying?

Something about missions, and...being cosy?

It wasn't his best language, but he'd had plenty of time to learn more than just his native Elvish and the local tongue. He wasn't so willing to try and speak in it, but translating, surely—

"You may want to give her the chance sooner rather than later," he said to the clingy one. "Doesn't much look like there'll be anything left worth doing if you can't dive in to the middle of that mess."

A pause.

"...What's the party for, anyways? Do they always do this when there's new hires?"

[Eisenhorn]

Abigail Blackthorn

---

Abigail smirked as Magnus roared with laughter at her remark, not bothering to deny it at all. He was honest about it, and she could respect that if nothing else. She basically crashed wherever was cheapest between jobs, or with whoever she could talk into loaning her a bed for the night. Sometimes those from the previous group were willing to spot her a room or a bed for a few nights before they moved onto their new jobs, so she took advantage when she could. That being said, seemed Magnus had an idea on what was going on, Liliane deciding the little lady could go on proper missions now.

"That explains the cuddliness and open bar. Ditching the fucking rat catcher jobs is always worth celebrating."

Abigail had come up through copper rank, same as most adventurers, and knew damn well just how mind numbingly tedious it could be. She had gotten both the mindless labor and pest control jobs, alongside the probationary escort details to make sure they actually got done. Goddesses did she fucking loathe those days, a stark warning that life was not going to be like she had expected from all the stories. Not that she particularly blamed folks for telling stories that were fond memories instead of the drudgery of catching rats.

It had not even been until Iron that Abigail got to really put her axe to good use, fighting use, though those were stories for another day. Grabbing the next drink slid her way, she took a swig as she considered the continued goings on around her. Kid playing at paladin was huffy over being mistaken for a kid, and had the temper to make people get nervous enough to be worried about ill placed violence. Not that it took long for someone else to, well, slither in since it was the resident Lamia moving in next, the comment on not drinking the guild into bankruptcy got a shrug.

"Not enough of a crowd to make a go for the record on booze downed in one night, guild is safe another day."

Watching the Lamia, what was her name.....Hefty? No, no, that was rude, Hysteria? No, wrong demeanor. Hyselia? That was probably it, at least it was not a mistake with another word at least. Either way, watching Hyselia lift the kid paladin up off the ground got a chuckle into her mug as she took another swig, watching as some roguish looking woman try to play at mediator. Neat, voice of reason, which was boring but, well, neat at least. More rational voices stepped in to try and diffuse the situation, getting more idle commentary from Abigail as she finished off her current mug.

"Wonder if I should start a betting pool for how long until the kid starts throwing a temper tantrum over her dignity as a holy warrior being belittled or....whatever it is paladins bemoan today."

Still, given the continuing chaos Abigail might want to at least try to make a go at the board since the first wave was bound to be working away from the board before too long. Putting the mug down, she stood, rolling her neck back and forth, glancing at Magnus before she started moving too quickly. It gave her a chance to test her balance too, not too bad fortunately, she would manage just fine.

"Have another few for me, would you? Going to see if I can't snatch something that should have a good fight or two in it."

Goddesses, was Abigail actually learning to be responsible? Not really, she knew she was going to have to find work again soon and, well, given that postings would get snatched up quickly, she might as well work her way through the flanks of the board and see if anything stood out that would have good fights. Once she locked down a job, she could get back to drinking until the bar was closed, and the flanks she could shoulder through if she had to.

[Raineh Daze]

Corinne

The mage blinked in confusion as someone addressed her in Estivalian. That was... if she was speaking Ithillane – and she normally did by this point, the language just came much easier when she was drunk – then why had they not responded in kind?

It took a few moments before the dots connected in the Hundi's head. Oooooh, it was probably a matter of understanding vs speaking it. That would make sense, they were very different and unrelated languages, someone could easily have a good enough understanding to follow but want to speak something more familiar. But it would be rude if she didn't swap over herself, and her accent could be really strong sometimes, it was embarrassing...

Though the newcomer was obviously an elf and that solved everything! Maman might be the Duchess of Tiffauges but Ammë still wasn't entirely comfortable, even after twenty years of marriage. Corinne had gotten all the practice she could ever need with Elvish, so swapping to that would take no effort at all. Actually, maybe it was her first one... she would need to ask and see if they remembered, she thought that the switch to mostly talking in Ithillane had come when she started proper lessons.

"Aww... well, I guess..." she turned to try and tell. Liliane... and could only pout at empty space. When had she gotten away? Her wife was so sneaky.

"New hires?" Turning back to the elf, she tilted her head to try and make sense of it. The guild didn't really have hires, and it wasn't like there had been a super notable joiner for months. Nobody that skipped all the low ranks. "No, this celebration is mine!"

She puffed her chest out proudly, "Lili said we can start doing proper missions now!"

It was, true to the mate's assessment, perfectly fluent Elvish. What was stranger – from Calben's perspective – was that it wasn't the neutral scholarly speech most learned, or some affected social standing from across the veil. It was the common dialect used by the wood elves, without the slightest trace of any discrepancy...

Except that there was no way the busty Hundi was an elf, obviously.

---

Liliane

"Are any of you planning to take jobs? If not, please let the rest of us at the board," a faintly Ithillin-accented voice requested, coming from... well, not much higher than Rylia, in honesty, and in line with the Ingvarr woman.

Liliane already looked slightly annoyed, one hand resting on her hip, almost within reach of one of her daggers. She could have reached the board fine – even Hylia wasn't much of an obstacle – but clambering over people just to grab some of the postings was absurd.

[Octo]

Hrefna's grin widened as the little girl furiously corrected her. How cute.

"My sincere apologize. You are tiny like Ingvarr girl-child, except with less heft. I make bad assumption. You are not child, but under-fed, yes? You must eat your potato and drink your milk, grow to be big and strong."

As she was about to offer to feed the weakling, the snake-woman slithered up to them. Hrefna did not know her, save for her very distinct appearance, but it seemed she was popular today. She didn't understand the issue with the Orc heads, but she did take a liking to the term 'macabre flail'. Hrefna laughed again.

"Macabre flail, you say, snake woman? Is very good. I will add this to the tale of my victory. 'Hrefna make macabre flail of the heads of her enemy' very evocative," she complimented, nodding, "but why do you hold little girl up into the air like baby-child? Are you teasing her? Is funny, but she does not need uppy-boost like toddler. She need stew."

Then another small child, this one with a beard, stepped into the puddle of blood which was admittedly pooling a lot as Hrefna stood in one place. Hrefna did not understand the question very well, so she simply held up the Orc heads.

"Is to show off my glorious victory."

Then she turned to Reeva, who was also approaching her. She knew this name. The woman was very pretty and very friendly, so she was easy to talk to, even for someone like Hrefna. She grinned back at the woman.

"Is to show off my glorious victory," she repeated as if she was saying something entirely sensible that no one else seemed to understand.

[VitaVitaAR]

"That's right!"

The new voice I don't fully recognize joining in makes perfect sense. Get a bag! Even if it's not exactly uncommon to see blood when you work with an Adventurer's Guild, it's still terribly uncouth to---

Hey?

Hey hey hey?!

Why is something grabbing my waist what's going on why is the floor so much further way now what why?!

Something's wrapped around me and lifted me up, and now that I have a better view of it it's clearly a tail, attached to a woman. A lamia? I knew there was a lamia here as one of the adventurers but what is she doing?! Why is she doing this?! Why did she think this was okay?!

"H-h-hey!"

Who does this? Who sees someone and just decides they're going to pick them up?! What part of her mind thought this was an acceptable course of action?! I reach down and tug at her tail, pulling at the scaly coils to try and free myself. But from here, with them being what's lifting me fully into the air, it's not like it's easy to get a grip. Damn it---!

"Wh-what are you doing!? Wh-why?!" I cry, unable to connect any chain of reasonable thought in my mind that would make her actions acceptable, "Y-you can't just go picking someone up!"

I'm a Paladin of Reon, too! It's not acceptable to do this to anyone, but I'm sworn to Reon's Justice! Can't you show even a little bit of respect?! That dumb, overly-flashy showoff ingvarr is running her mouth again, too, but it's hard to focus on that when the lamia decided it was okay to pick me up!

---

With a concerned expression, one of the receptionists, a brunette with a short side ponytail tied in a blue ribbon, pointed out the mess that Hrefna's proof of quest completion was making on the floor. Really, they did tend to prefer that anything particularly gruesome was put in a bag to be taken up to the counter. With the other receptionists preoccupied at the moment, it had fallen on her to do something about it.

In this case, that meant letting the other staff know.

The guild staff who handled cleaning and the food and drink were composed of girls in simple dresses and aprons, many of whom lived nearby and sought out a consistent, well-paying job. That being said, some of them were certainly not so happy to be dealing with orc blood, but they couldn't leave it there either. Especially now that one of the receptionists had pointed it out and asked for their assistance.

As such, warm water and other cleaning implements were being applied to the worst spots on the floor. Normally this would wait until the end of the day when business died down, but leaving the blood there was a unsavory prospect.

At the very least, it seemed as if the crowd near the job listings had thinned a little bit. It wouldn't be so hard to take a look, now.

[Rune_Alchemist]

Hyselia

@VitaVitaAR@Octo

---

"Why not?" The lamia's voice was cool, lazy, and carried a clearly mildly amused tone. "It seems as though I certainly can." She flashed a small teasing smile, the coils around Rylia tightening slightly. "Besides, it looks like you could have used the help seeing over this throng of over eager louts. Or would you prefer flailing around and uselessly asking to be let through when you clearly know its not going to work?" Hyseliea mused idly as she'd turn to face the job board seeing that it had thinned out slightly thanks to the work of the guild workers.

"I don't think the stew would help, Ingvarr. I don't know if even my mother could help with her inadequacies." Still carrying Rylia, Hyseliea slithered over to the job board, inspecting the available missions with idle interest, Petes comment ignored for the most part.

coincidentally, Rylia was being pulled closer to the Lamia's body as the coils grew tighter around her.

[Eisenhorn]

Abigail Blackthorn

---

"Are any of you planning to take jobs? If not, please let the rest of us at the board,"

Liliane

Abigail blinked, glancing back at the accented voice from somewhere behind her. Hundi, the one footing bills at the bar, asking if anyone not taking jobs would please move. Polite, really, like that had worked for the kid paladin being hoisted and coiled by the Lamia. Add in the crowd starting to thin, Guild staff working to clean and organize things, and that pretty much made it easy enough to get in even if she was in would happen to not be in a position to shove her way in. She could though, and figured she might as well do a good turn in return for the free drinks and food. She made her way through, grabbing a handful of jobs that, at least at a cursory glance, did not look mind numbingly boring at first pass. Stepping back past the Hundi, she commented lazily as she made her way back towards the bar.

"Just grabbed my handful, feel free to give 'em a look back at the bar if you want."

Abigail did not really wait up for the Hundi to keep up, beelining for her seat at the bar, well, an open seat since her original one was taken already. Fortunately someone else vacated a spot, and Abigail sat down and spread out the job listings she grabbed to start reviewing what stood out as worth doing. Naturally, she was also already flagging the bartender down to get another drink but, well, that was as commonplace as the sun rising in the morning. As she reviewed the jobs in question, she made no effort to hide or be discreet about it, muttering her thoughts on each as she reviewed them.

@Raineh Daze

[The Otter]

Calaphindë

---

Calaphindë's ears twitched as the Hundi lady swapped languages without any great hesitation. The slimmer one had managed to slip out of her grasp without her even noticing, between trying to change languages on a moment's notice and how much she'd been drinking; that left her with nothing more to focus on than him. And expressing how happy she was that she got to move up to more difficult missions. A lower rank, then?

"Do try not to knock anything over," he cautioned as she puffed her chest out, beaming with pride. He paused for a moment, tilting his head the same way she had when trying to figure out what he was talking about.

Moving up from copper rank? Maybe. Or, perhaps, only just moving into copper rank, from being a junior adventurer. Unless...'Lili' was, perhaps, the other Hundi, so perhaps it was less about ranking and more just whatever she was allowed to do from the more domestic side.

That wasn't the only thing nagging at him, however, given that she'd jumped into a manner of speaking so similar to that of his home that she could probably be mistaken as one who'd lived there, there or one of the other cities nearby. "...You're not half-elf, are you?"

[Animal]

^{Location: Adventurer's Guild, Venne}

Freya Stonewall (Frieda Emberforge)

---

While the guild staff tended to the mess, this gave Freya a moment to absorb her surroundings. Initially scanning the room with purpose for the one who caused the bloody mess in the first place. She caught wind of some particular developments in the crowd. One man's heartfelt laughter stood out from the rest; Someone seemed to be having a great time. That should be her, damn it! But how could she enjoy herself when there's a possibility of orc blood tainting her drinks?

Then what looked like a human child, barely taller than herself, was lifted up by a lamia's coil. By the way the girl appeared to be protesting, Freya wondered how it led to that. Next to them is the Ingvarr woman she was searching for, not far off from where she stood! She saw other fellow adventurers gathered around the Ingvarr. Couldn't hear them, but she imagined they were there to voice their complaints about the orc heads, no doubt!

The kind employee who went out of their way to wipe down her boots was not met with any gratitude. Instead, the dwarf woman's priorities were set to confrontation! Time to march over to that Ingvarr and give her a stern talking to! Maybe after some much-needed venting and baseless accusations, she'll return her thanks to the guild staff. Wouldn't be the first time.

“Oi! You! Fork-Head!” She aggressively called out, still clearly buzzed, judging by her unsteady balance.

“What's the big idea bringing something like -hic- that in here?! Spillin' blood all over the floors, in our food, in our DRINKS!” Freya emphasized heavily towards the end.

Freya was more or less seeking reassurance that her earlier drinks didn't contain any traces of orc blood. That would be...rather terrible if she did.

@Octo

[ERode]

For what Csenge could only interpret as the better, Hrefna's actions had drawn enough of a ruckus that not only were other adventurers getting sucked into this event to meddle and involve themselves with drama, but also the already-busy staff of the Guild too. An area was unofficially cordoned off; no one wanted to step onto or stumble over a regular uninvolved employee, after all. It was a bit of a surprise, really, that some young enterprising copper-rank mage didn't see this as a chance to showcase what magical talents they had while endearing themselves to the ladies by twirling a finger and casting a Water Jet.

But maybe such do-gooders were busy fixing fences or cleaning roofs this early in the morning.

She, on the other hand, only cared for work that would take her somewhere that wasn't another city. Cutting a path around the perimeter of the immediate cleaning site, the middle-aged woman sidestepped the red-hooded adventurer that grabbed a handful of jobs to peruse at her own leisure. Gave her a glancing side-eye too. It was bad form. If everyone was going to be tearing bundles of jobs to look over for themselves, there was quite literally going to be no reason for a central board to begin with: the paperwork would all be scattered across the entirety of the Guild. Now, was Csenge going to say anything about that?

Of course not. In the process of side-stepping Red-Hood, she was able to just as quickly step into the space that the other adventurer had been occupying moments prior.

A hand on the chin, eyes half-closed in contemplation. The dragon hunt in Dansbell sounded like a fabrication, but even if it turned out to be a giant lizard rather than a dragon, Csenge would still need a party for that. Was there something else though? A geological survey perhaps? She would even take something so droll as 'wagon missing; adventurers look for it' kind of job.