Touch Of Fate 18 Information Situation

Mike opened the door and stepped through, and was swiftly rendered speechless.

"Welcome young man, to the Mayde branch of the Adventurer's Guild. I am the Guildmaster here, Anton Barthelemus Unther, also known as the Earthen Terror."

The man stood about 1.8m tall, and had clearly once been a true athlete, an impressive musculature still visible on his large frame. However, he had evidently let himself go in the intervening years. He looked to be in the latter half of his forties, with thinning dark brown hair.

Judging from the disheveled look about him, he had dressed rather quickly in what Mike could only a.s.sume were his nice clothes. Cut mainly in reds and golds, it would have made for an impressive sight if not for the very obvious fact that he no longer fit in them. The tunic he was attempting to wear was evidently made for a smaller man, as evidenced by the protruding gut attempting to escape it.

All of this almost distracted Mike from the conditions of the office. The room was dominated by an ornately carved desk situated before an extensively decorated fireplace. A number of expensive looking statuettes, trophies, and weapons rested on the mantle. The desk was comparatively clean with only a strange box-shaped device and a couple stacks of papers laying on it. A thick red rug serving to cover that corner of the rooms' bare wooden floors. In contrast the other half of the room was almost completely bare. A simple wooden chair the only feature to break up the monotony.

"Guildmaster? I think the guy downstairs said something about an office manager."

"Don't mind Don, he often plays jokes like that." The Guildmaster (?) waved his hand dismissively before gesturing towards the chair. "Please have a seat. I've heard that you have some information for us."

Mike sat and explained the situation with the orcs.

"Hmm, troubling." Anton murmured while stroking his chin. "And you are sure they are from the Ashborn?"

"I don't know for sure, but that is what their leader claimed."

The older man paced back and forth in front of his desk. "I'll have to send a report to the main office. Very well, I believe this information deserves a reward."

He went behind his desk, opened a drawer and pulled out three silver coins before handing them to Mike. "I'm afraid the information itself is not particularly valuable to the Guild by itself, but has the potential to turn a profit in the future. As such, I can only give you three silver spears in payment."

Mike took the money, not worried about being scammed, since it was basically free money for him.

Anton continued, "Now, I've also heard that you are interested in joining the Adventurer's Guild, is that true?"

Mike nodded in response.

"Haha, excellent, I think you'll find the Guild has much to offer young and talented individuals such as yourself."

Mike found himself wonder how the man was able to determine whether or not he was talented, but was interrupted by Anton's continuation.

"The enrollment fees are 2 silver. This covers both your guild mark and initial registration. You'll start as a Rank 0 provisional adventurer until you complete you first request. Depending on your performance, you'll promoted to a higher rank. Do you have any questions so far?"

"What's this about a guild mark?" Mike asked while returning two of the silver pieces he had gotten earlier.

"A fair question," Anton answered while removing a softball sized sphere of black rock and placing it into a hemispherical groove in the strange box shaped device on the desk.

He tapped the back of his left hand once, and a tattoo of the cross swords and s.h.i.+eld Mike had seen on the sign outside appeared. "This is a guild mark. It serves as an identifier for all Guild members."

He tapped it twice in quick succession, then held his arm out parallel to the floor.

The mark started to glow with a soft light. A translucent, almost holographic screen was projected.

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Name: Anton Barthelemus Unther

Cla.s.s: Warrior of the Earthen Realm

Guild Rank: Rank 6 (Silver)

t.i.tle: The Earthen Terror

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"It is used primarily when interacting with the guild to prove your ident.i.ty. In many countries it can also function in the place of identification doc.u.mentation."

He tapped his mark once more, causing it fade and disappear from his hand.

"Now, please place your left hand on the Marking Stone, I know it's a terrible name, but the Mage who invented it had terrible naming sense."

Mike touched the stone with his hand. It was strangely warm to the touch. He felt a strange tingle and the mark briefly appear on the back of his hand before disappearing.

"Alright, well congratulations again. You are now a member of the Adventurer's Guild. I am obliged by Guild policy to inform you of a few basic rules. You can inquire at any branch in regards to requests available to your rank. If you register as a party with two or more adventurers you can accept quests one rank higher than your average party rank. Until you reach Rank 5, you must complete at least one request every two months or risk losing your registration. Failure to complete a request after accepting it will incur a penalty fee of 10% of the original reward."

Anton paused, much of his earlier excitement lost as he took on the persona of a tired bureaucrat.

"Let's see, what else. Ah yes, promotion. Until Rank 5, you will be promoted automatically upon completing a sufficient number of quests of the appropriate difficulty. To be promoted to Rank 2 from Rank 1 requires three successfully completed requests. Rank 3 requires four quests, Rank 4 requires 5, and so on. Only quests at or above your rank will count towards promotion. To be promoted to Rank 6 requires you to complete seven requests and pa.s.s and examination hosted at one of the national headquarters."

He sat down heavily behind his desk. "If you have any additional questions, please see Don at the reception desk.

Mike decided he had enough of the sweltering atmosphere and politely excused himself. He had a lot of information to digest and wanted to clear his mind before coming back here.

He stopped in with Don to inquire about possible requests for a provisional adventurer.

"We have one, if you'd like to look it over." The receptionist drawled while pulling out a sheet of paper and handing it to Mike.

Realizing that he was still holding the blank form from earlier, he exchanged it with the request description. Don glanced at the form briefly before adding it to a pile on his desk with no change of expression.

Mike started reading through the request sheet.

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Investigation of Dewey Glen

Rank 2 Request

Details: A mysterious rash of livestock deaths has plagued the village of Dewey Glen for nearly a month. The village council has requested that the Adventurer's Guild look into the cause and if possible eliminate it.

Completion: Identify the cause of the livestock deaths

Reward: 2 Silver

Bonus: Elimination of the cause of livestock deaths will lead yield an additional 2 silver as a reward.

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Seeing as he would get paid regardless of whether or not he actually fixed the problem, Mike decided to go ahead and accept the request.

After signing his name in a ledger used to track open requests Mike joined Morris in leaving the tiny office.

"Whew, I'm glad that's done," Morris sighed. "Now we can focus on some much more interesting matters. Let me show you to my favorite place in Mayde." He took off a little too eagerly.

After a few minutes of quickly walking through the complex network of streets, the duo arrived at an opulent looking tavern. The building was a full story taller than the ones around it. A pair of red painted double doors were thrown open revealing a thriving common room. Music, laughter, and the sounds of general revelry filled the air. Above the doorway hung a sign proudly stating 'The Fanciful Maiden.' Below it was a very well done image of a scantily clad young woman embracing a well-endowed stallion.

Morris led him up the stairs and through the door. They pa.s.sed dangerous looking bouncer, who gave them a hard stare before returning to scanning the common room.

All around them men from various walks of life were drinking and laughing with young women dressed in revealing, corseted dresses. It reminded Mike of the cabaret clubs he had seen in his past life.

One of the women separated from the general crowd and approached them. Mike was vaguely aware of her blonde hair and heavy make-up, but he had trouble drawing his gaze from the ma.s.sive pair of b.r.e.a.s.t.s that threatened to spill out of her dress. A small part of his mind realized that despite decades of memories, he was having trouble controlling the libido of his teenage body.

"h.e.l.lo boys," the woman purred in a sultry voice, "You can call me Jasmine. What can I do for you?"

Morris grinned at the way his younger companion was enjoying himself already. "We'll be taking two rooms for the night." He said while producing a trio of gold coins. "We'd like the royal treatment."

Jasmine smiled enticingly while making the coins disappear somewhere into her dress with a motion Mike was unable to follow. "Right this way, milords." She grabbed Mike's arm in a way that made sure he got to appreciate it. She flashed a quick arm signal to the surrounding crowd, which caused several other women to gather around.

"Alright ladies, we've got a pair of fine, young gentlemen who are in need of relaxation. Let's make sure they have a night they will never forget."