Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (105/?)

No sooner were those proclamations made, did the whole room’s mood suddenly shift. 

Doors to either wings of the central hall were shut, and the entrance to the guild itself was promptly cordoned off not long after. 

Young and familiar faces belonging to the apprentice trainees flooded out one by one, as all stood at attention at the far reaches of the room; though the quality of their would-be ‘parade-rest’ stances would’ve sent Aunty Ran into a fiery fit. 

What remained of the uproarious and chaotic vibe of the place quickly fizzled out, as competing conversations mellowed into an eerie silence; the attention of an entire room quickly landing on the two parties.  

Eyeballs and eyestalks alike quickly landed on the quest listing in each party leader’s hands.

Following which, the two leaders promptly took to what I now realized weren’t actually weirdly-shaped bar stool fixtures, but podiums. 

Remarkably short and stumpy podiums, with little in the way of presence like those found in the Academy, but podiums all the same.

This disadvantage in height though, was unconventionally rectified by the crowd, as everyone present began taking their seats; with those unfortunate enough to lose this impromptu game of musical chairs instead electing to sit on the floor.

A short clattering of weapons and armor later, and the intended effect was obvious… at least for the elf. 

The dwarf still remained woefully too short for the podium, barely poking above a few of the taller seated adventurers, at least compared to his pay-to-win elven counterpart.

This turnout was reflected in the glare they exchanged.

Although something told me that there was much, much more going on beneath the surface to warrant that sharp and sudden of an ire-filled glare.

An assumption that began panning out, as they both attempted to speak at about the same time.

“The party of—” They both began, before stopping prematurely. 

It didn’t take too long for the guild commander to quickly step in however. Stopping this stalemate in its inception, with a quick nod directed towards the pay-to-win elf, much to the dwarf’s annoyance.

“The Great and Bountiful Party of Elaseer’s Illustrious Questseekers, humbly accepts the quest listing submitted by the Lord-Mayor of Elaseer, for the tracking, reporting, and optional hunting of the Werebeast of the Elaseer Forests. Last heard terrorizing the warehouse prior to its destruction.” The gold-haired elf began, his shining and radiant suit of armor practically causing all within the room to experience some degree of lens flare. “As is guild tradition, The Great and Bountiful Party of Elaseer’s Illustrious Questseekers is open to any who wish to compete for the right to this quest, or any who wish to join as adjuncts to our party.” 

The man stopped, awaiting whatever response might come.

A few seconds of silence later, and a hand was raised.

Then another.

And another.

Soon, about half of the room’s occupants’ arms were raised up high, all of which I noticed were raising their left arms.

‘Raising their right arm probably means a challenge then.’ I thought to myself, as I became almost engrossed in guild dynamics, and the deeply entrenched cultural etiquette of it all.

Moreover, it at least seemed to be far more streamlined and efficient than Academy cultural norms.

“Splendid!” The elf beamed out, manufacturing a grin that felt so eerily fake, almost plastic in a way that I couldn’t pin down. “However, I only need a quarter of you for this quest.” He shifted his tone abruptly, causing some arms to waver, if only slightly. Following which, the elf began raising his arm, and without once shifting that faux-positivity of his voice, he began pointing towards each party leader in the crowd. “You. You! You… and you!” He began, going through about ten more people, before finally arriving at an unexpected conclusion. “All of you will not be joining us. The rest of you may follow us to the private function room!” 

The emotional whiplash was so sudden that even I was barely able to process it. As literally a dozen parties were left in the dust of their contemporaries, all of whom began marching up the grand staircase, following the pay-to-win elf’s lead; some much more reluctantly than others. 

This wasn’t Academy noble dynamics after all.

Or at least, not all of it was, as I couldn’t help but to notice the adventurer-Vunerian casting a fiery and contemptuous glare at his kobold counterpart; the smaller being practically sinking down into her oversized chestplate like a turtle ducking its head into its shell.

There was clearly a pecking order here. One that the dwarf seemed to be painfully aware of as he began his own spiel with a sullen breath.

“Sym’s Troubleshooters humbly accepts the quest listing submitted by the office of the guildmaster, for the scouting and reporting on the whereabouts of the amethyst dragon. Last seen terrorizing the town.” The man began through a tired mumble, looking around with half-lidded eyes at the disinterested crowd.  “As is guild tradition, Sym’s Troubleshooters is open to any who wish to compete for the right to this quest, but not for anyone who wishes to join as adjuncts to our party.” 

That latter bit proved to be interesting, as reactions amongst the crowd were mixed between quiet indifference or outright dismissiveness.

“Yeah, of course he’d want to keep it a closed quest.”

“Cheap bastard wants to keep all that gold for himself.”

“No surprise, none at all. Sym needs every coin he can get.”

“The poor bloke’s drowning in debt. I doubt the five-thousand gold’s going to put a dent in that, sadly.”

The chatter amongst the crowd was reasonably loud, or at least, loud enough that ‘Sym’ decided to address it directly. 

As he seemed to have little in the way of patience for would-be gossipers. 

“Ahem. If anyone, anyone at all wishes to compete for the right to this quest, now is the time to speak with the backing of fists and steel.” He cautioned, bringing the whispers to an abrupt halt, making an effort to meet each and every one of the adventurer’s eyes with an unamused expression. “I didn’t think so.” He continued following the silence, though it was clear that beating back the gossipers didn’t seem to bring him even a lick of joy or satisfaction. “Guild commander? May I ask permission to proceed to deliberations?” He turned towards the commander in question, who nodded approvingly. 

=====

Nexus. The Crown Herald Town of Elaseer. Ambassadorial District. The Adventurer’s Guild Hall of Elaseer. Guild Master’s Office. Local Time: 1722 Hours.

Emma

“No.” Ilunor proclaimed with a degree of dismissive severity that only a competitive noble could muster, making an effort not to meet any one of the party members’ eyes. 

“But Ilunor, you haven’t even allowed them to introduce themselves—” 

“I’ve seen enough, Cadet Emma Booker.” He addressed me tersely, though with a clear degree more respect compared to how he addressed these adventurers. “We are not settling for a ragtag troupe of third-rate adventurers. Not especially when they will invariably be representing our interests.” 

“If I may, my lord—”

“You may not, adventurer.” Ilunor snapped harshly, causing the dwarf’s brow to twitch in frustration. The Vunerian promptly turned towards the guild master, who sat there quietly, his thin lines-for-eyes somehow telegraphing a certain sense of frustration shared amongst everyone in the room. “Guild master, I demand that a new adventuring party be dispatched post-haste!” 

However, before the guild master could even respond, it was Thalmin who threw his hat into the ring; approaching the ragtag group with a growl.

“Names, specialties, and ratings.” The mercenary prince demanded, completely sidestepping Ilunor’s complaints.

“Yes, mercenary prince.” They all spoke in unison, bowing deeply.

“My name is Duren Moven. Adventuring name: The Wall.” The tired-looking, somewhat emaciated looking brown bear spoke first. “Specialty: general brawler and forest scout. Rating: Gryphon-class.” 

Ilunor let out a loud and dismissive puff at that.

“My name is Thulvahn Ska’a. Adventuring name: Winged Dread.” The surprisingly friendly bat-humanoid of the group spoke up next, reaching for his lute as he maintained a constant and unbothered smile. “I dabble in many specialties, sky scout, night scout, and aerial combat being my most noteworthy, wiiiith a little sprinkling of bardic inclinations into the mix.” He added cheekily, strumming his out-of-tune lute in the process. “Expect nothing less from that of a gryphon class like myself.” 

The Vunerian didn’t let up, rolling his eyes now, as the poor kobold was now practically left increasingly nervous for her introduction.

“My name… Kintor Gonthier, The Skitterer! Specialty: rogue and scavenger! Rating: Greater Phoenix Class!” 

Ilunor was about ready to give up at this point, the deluxe kobold reaching for a complimentary cupcake from a tower of baked goods, just as the dwarf party leader stepped up to the plate.  

“My name is Party Leader Sym the Honeydew. Frontliner Battle Mage. Wyvern Class.” 

It was that latter proclamation that garnered some reaction from Ilunor.

Though admittedly not as much as Thalmin. As the mercenary prince took extra time to evaluate the dwarf from tip to toe—

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 550% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

—before outright breaking into a frenzied dash towards the man.

A flash of light was all I saw, as multiple mana radiations hit me, the EVI taking over the suit’s reflexive defense systems as a result.

However, it was clear that I was the last person who’d need defending, as the light and subsequent smoke subsided to reveal the tip of Thalmin’s collapsible sword… poised a mere inch from the dwarf’s eyeball. The blade barely being held at bay by the dwarf’s iron grip on its base. 

This standoff was quickly broken by another burst of mana radiation.

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 570% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

A wave of magical telekinetic energy knocked Thalmin back from the dwarf.

The mercenary prince ended up pushed back about a foot away from that knife-edge confrontation.

Both parties at this point held their respective weapons poised and ready in a battle-ready stance.

Though strangely, or rather fortunately, neither side seemed to take the initiative. 

As an upward quirk of Thalmin’s lip, and a subsequent light smile from the dwarf, was all it took for the pair to disarm; both parties sheathing their weapons just moments after that death-defying stunt.

“Apparel and appearances may often proclaim the noble courtier—” Thalmin began, craning his head towards the Vunerian who’d since dropped the complimentary cupcake from his hands. “—but in the realm of the adventurer, it is experience and action that determines his fate.” The prince concluded, before turning back towards the dwarf with a reassuring smile. “Wyvern class, huh?” 

“Yes, mercenary prince.” The dwarf nodded, bowing once again in respect.

“That was barely gryphon class if you ask me.” The lupinor rebutted, garnering a look of incredulous concern from the dwarf, before once again being defused by a confident chuckle from Thalmin. 

“But that’s only because a wyvern class’ trial-by-fire would most certainly lead to the destruction of this room… and then some.” The prince quickly added with a toothy grin, craning his head towards the guild master. “I assume you have credible records of the man and his compatriot’s self-proclaimed adventuring classes?” 

“Yes, mercenary prince.” The blue gelatinous blob replied, manifesting the requested documents for Thalmin through his translucent form. 

A quick shuffling of paper later was all that was needed to double-check these claims, as Thalmin turned towards me with a confident nod. “Whilst not wyvern class in a traditional sense  — given only one of four is actually confirmed to be wyvern-class — it is my judgment that this adventuring party will make do, Emma.”

A groan from Ilunor made it clear his refusal to budge on the matter.

“We were promised a Wyrvern-class party. Not a second-rate stand-in.” He grumbled.

“Didn’t you say they were third-rate, Ilunor?” I shot back, attempting to undermine his constant whining by attacking him where it should hurt — his own inconsistencies.

“Yes, I did. However, Prince Havenbrock’s little stunt elevated them from third to second in my eyes.” He answered with a flighty shrug, causing me to groan silently in frustration as I instead chose to focus my efforts on the group.

“Are you sure you folk are up for the challenge?” I asked the group, not just its leader, directly. 

This led to a wide array of reactions, from the kobold’s skittish nervousness, to the bat’s cocksure confidence, and finally to the dwarf’s own look of stoic steadfastness.

“Half of our group’s specialties lie in scouting and tracking. One from the skies—” He pointed at the bat, who bowed with a draping of his arm-wing in my direction. “—and another from the dirt.” He gestured towards the kobold, who seemed to calm down somewhat after focusing on me instead of Ilunor. “If you’ll excuse my brazenness, my lady, I’d say we’re more than capable of accomplishing this simple track-and-report quest. And this is not an attempt at undermining other adventuring parties, but I doubt you’ll find any other takers for such a quest in the time limit provided.” 

I gave each and every one of the party members a good glance once again, before reaching out my hand towards Thalmin, the wolf prince handing me the group’s documents wordlessly.

My eyes widened as I saw what amounted to the dwarf’s service record, and in that moment, I was practically sold.

“You’re hired.” I proclaimed, once more garnering a groan from the Vunerian. “Moreover, I’m willing to add a bit of a clause to sweeten the deal. For every day you shave off from the predetermined time limit, I’ll reward you a bonus of fifty gold.” 

The dwarf’s eyes lit up at this, as that little incentive clearly caught his attention.

“However!” Ilunor chimed in. “For every day you delay past the maximum predetermined time limit… fifty gold shall be deducted from your pay.”

“We are not agreeing to that Ilunor—”

“We are amenable to these clauses.” The dwarf responded with a nod, taking me completely by surprise. “For we are confident we shall accomplish this quest within the predetermined time limit… and then some.” He finally smiled for the first time throughout this entire interaction, reaching out a hand towards me. 

I took a moment to side-eye Ilunor, to which he simply shrugged, before kneeling down to firmly grasp the man’s hand. “It’s a deal then.”

=====

Nexus. The Crown Herald Town of Elaseer. Ambassadorial District. The Adventurer’s Guild Hall of Elaseer. Grand Hall. Local Time: 1752 Hours.

Emma

We left the adventuring party and the guild master to discuss the finer details of vehicle acquisition.

…

We also left the guild master’s room three-thousand gold coins lighter than when we came in.

That fact hit me like a sack of bricks, or [ten] whole Bim Bims for reference.

The lack of a tangible safety net, and the finite nature of my funds here was starting to rattle my nerves.

And perhaps that’s just what the Nexus was going for when it came to the lives of newrealmer candidates being sent to the Nexus.

It wouldn’t be outside their MO, after all.

From forcing a candidate to preemptively study High Nexian, to expecting them to immediately grapple with cultural norms and expectant decorum on the fly, adding financial strains on a candidate didn’t seem too far out from the realm of possibility. 

It was devious and disgusting.

But it was definitely something that fit their playbook.

Especially if they got into tangible and intangible debt with whoever they happened to bump into.

That train of thought continued until we finally made our way back into the main hall, which now seemed to be surprisingly devoid of people. 

“So… that’s it then? Anything else on the list, Thacea?” I turned to the princess, who responded with a shake of her head.

“Everything that is required of us has been accomplished, Emma.” 

[School Supply Trip… status… COMPLETED]

Following that, I quickly turned towards the EVI, as it was time to start going through my own list of objectives. “EVI, bring up the quest log.” 

A short ‘pending’ notification soon followed, as I imagined the EVI to be reasonably annoyed at my continued assault on proper lingo. 

“Current mission objectives as indicated by Mission Commander… A. Locate and Secure the AM-d-002b—.”

“Yeah, the amethyst dragon quest, and the subsequent rebuilding of the ECS. Mark the first as pending, and Objective B as dependant on A.” I responded, cutting the EVI off.

“Acknowledged. List continues: C. Resume ‘library questline’ with ILUNOR RULARIA by retrieving the original copy of Item of Interest: MAL’TORY’s notebook.” 

“Yeah, that’s when school starts back up after the house choosing ceremony tomorrow.”

“Acknowledged. List continues: D. Follow up on RILA’S whereabouts and status following the explosion.” 

I paused at that, my heart sinking right into my gut as I forced the EVI to pause the list of objectives for the time being.

“Let’s get on that right away.” I commanded, eliciting an affirmative beep from the EVI, as the quest in question faded away into the backdrop at the upper right hand corner of my HUD.

“Right, guys, I’m going to need to—”

I turned back towards the gang… only to find Ilunor missing.

A quick look-around later, and I quickly spotted him approaching the illustrious pay-to-win party.

Several feelings began popping up one after the other, as I could only watch in anticipation for what shenanigans the Vunerian was about to get into next.

“Oh. Do my eyes deceive me? Or am in the good company and graces of a fellow upper-ringer?” He announced out of nowhere, taking a few short footfalls towards the fancifully armored blue and turquoise Vunerian. 

The adventurer in question, however, refused to respond at first, his gaze only momentarily meeting Ilunor’s.

Though that was all it took for him to become ensnared in the latter’s trap.

“While I may be one to forget faces, I never forget a fellow Vunerian’s eyes.” Ilunor doubled-down, eliciting nothing but a taciturn reaction from the man.

“Why if it isn’t the audacious and bold Lord Ilunor Rularia.” The adventurer finally grumbled out, forced to move a few steps towards Ilunor, if only to reluctantly engage in this unsolicited interaction.

“I see you remember me, Lord Millias Tacten.” Ilunor responded with a hand resting on his maw. “Orrrr… what was it now? Hmm… I’m never one for these silly little placeholder names commoners dress themselves up in.”

The turquoise and blue Vunerian sighed once more, his eyes remaining completely unphased, yet entirely annoyed. “It’s Millias the Resplendent…” He muttered out, quickly causing Ilunor to stifle a laugh. 

“Ah! How could I have forgotten such an illustrious name! Quite befitting of your group’s chosen… aesthetics.” Ilunor beamed.

“Is there anything I can help you with, Lord Rularia—”

“Oh straight-to-business nowadays are we? My my, the adventuring world truly has changed you Lord Tacten… or is it Millias now? Perhaps just The Resplendent?” 

The adventurer Vunerian chose the wise response however, giving Ilunor the silent treatment as several members of his group shuffled awkwardly in place, as if trapped in a dialogue screen they all desperately wanted out of… but due to expectant decorum, they simply couldn’t.

“In any case, how are you faring following your… chosen departure?” Ilunor pushed forward, in spite of all social indicators telling him not to.

“I believe I can ask the same of you, Lord Rularia.” Milias shot back using a tactic as old as time — the ‘onu reverse’ card as it were. 

“Hmm? Why… can’t you tell?” He gestured towards himself, before craning his neck towards Thacea, Thalmin, and myself.

All eyes were then trained on us… which for the first time, gave me genuine embarrassment in the midst of a crowd. 

As this was attention of the unwanted variety.

“This is your peer group, I’m assuming?” Milias took the bait. “All… adjacent realmers, I see?” He cocked his head, garnering a slight self-satisfied cackle of excitement from Ilunor.

“Indeed, indeed! So incredibly observant as always my dear fellow!” 

“And I’m assuming you’re the peer group leader, the Nexian amidst Adjacents.” The adventurer sighed out, prompting me to finally step in, as I politely tapped Ilunor on the shoulder.

“Ilunor, we have other matters to attend to.” 

“Oh, please, you’ve had your time in the sun today, earthrealm-, er, Cadet Emma Booker.” He corrected himself, in a way I genuinely wasn’t expecting. “I would wish for some to revel in my own spotlight as it were.” He quickly added, in a way that straddled the line between a request and an ultimatum.

I wanted to intervene, to burst his bubble right away.

However, given my lack of background knowledge on the pair’s history, I decided it was best to leave this particular bit of drama to Ilunor’s discretion.

If anything, he might just reap what he sowed here.

With a shrug and a nod, I disengaged from that interaction, taking Thacea and Thalmin along with me as we moved towards the exit.

“How much time do we have left before the town’s curfew hours, Thacea?” 

“Approximately two hours.” The princess replied tactfully. “Why?” 

“I’m assuming she wants to arrange dinner plans or some such, princess.” Thalmin added in with a cheeky chuckle, one that I unfortunately defused as I began laying down my plans for the rest of the evening.

“While that honestly sounds great, I’m afraid there’s another questline I have to pick up. It’s about Rila.” 

“Who?” Thalmin shot back with a cock of his head. 

“The apprentice elf I was forced to leave in town.” I clarified. 

“You want to learn of her fate, I imagine?” Thalmin inquired. 

“I want to make sure she’s okay and taken care of is all. That was the promise I made with Vanavan, so I expect her to be resting up in some clinic or hospital in town.” 

“We can check with the Healing Center.” Thacea quickly chimed in. “It’s only a few minutes walk from here, and we should get our answers  promptly enough.” 

I nodded in agreement, as we moved towards the guild hall’s entrance. 

It was about then that I noticed a coat rack next to one of the service doors near the front of the grand hall.

And a lightbulb moment hit me.

I quickly turned around, attempting to find the guild commander, only to be met with the satyr boy from before.

“Hey kid, quick question, do you have a lost and found closet for coats and cloaks?” 

This question clearly caught the boy by surprise, as it took him a good few moments to respond. “Erm… yes. I mean, yes my lady!” 

“Alright… do you think anyone would mind me grabbing a cloak from there?” 

That question prompted the boy to cock his head, before shaking it. “Not if you take one of the old ones that’s been there for years.” He responded frankly.

“Excellent!”

=====

Nexus. The Crown Herald Town of Elaseer. Ambassadorial District. His Eternal Light Healing Center. Local Time: 1830 Hours.

Emma

“Welp. That settles it then. It seems like I’ll be using this cloak after all.” I pulled out the borrowed cloak from one of my bags, simultaneously unlatching the Mifis’ custom-tailored cloak in the process. “This is probably cutting it rather tight, but I gotta go check on the healing centers outside of the ambassadorial district. So wearing that cloak is going to be too distracting to the general public, I’d imagine.”

“The armor itself is rather conspicuous Emma… but given the option between cape, cloak, and bare metal, I’d say the cloak is a good call.” Thalmin offered, as we made our way out of the fancy healing center, and towards the wall that separated this gated district from what was working up to be a louder, more energetic part of town; if the EVI’s long range acoustics were anything to go by.

“You guys don’t have to follow me by the way. This really isn’t your fight. I can handle this on my own, trust me.” I offered, garnering two looks of mutual concern. 

“Just make sure you don’t lose your school papers, Emma. Otherwise, you may find most of your night taken up by busybodies delaying your ascent back to the Academy.” Thacea responded with an audible degree of worry.

To which I could only respond with a reassuring smile, one obscured by the helmet, but conveyed by my voice all the same. “Don’t worry, Thacea. I’ll be back before you know it.” 

With a few goodbyes, and a confident shoulder pat from Thalmin, I promptly made my way past a rather nondescript gate; expecting some level of resistance but finding none at all.  

From there, I found myself figuratively teleported to an entirely different world. 

As sights, sounds, and what I could only imagine would’ve been smells without the helmet — assaulted my senses.

No longer was I walking within a seemingly endless maze of pristine white and marble, but instead, a veritable kaleidoscope of shades and colors. 

From the gray, black, and brown cobblestone streets, to the mish-mashed facades of townhouses that seemed to be built with little in the way of uniform planning; ranging from gaudy facsimiles of baroque architecture, all the way down to dilapidated storefronts with questionable support struts holding signs promising cheap goods and affordable rent rates available within. 

The whole place radiated a lived-in fantastical energy, one that was more down to earth than anything found within the walls of the ambassadorial district, as even the sheer number of pedestrians gave it lively buzz that outshone anything found within the white and gilded noble enclave. 

All of this was rounded out by the appearance of horse-drawn carts, as I was brought right back down to earth with an unrepentant SPLASH of murky brown puddle water slamming face first into me.

“EVI… why didn’t you move me out of the way?”

“Threat threshold not within overriding parameters, Cadet Booker. If you wish to adjust current values, please specify—”

“Ugh! Forget it.” I sighed, silently thanking my helmet now for masking any and all smells from the world.

“Right, let’s move.”