Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (105/?) WiP 1

Hey everyone! Here is the Work in Progress for Chapter 105 I hope you guys enjoy! :D

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 Beast 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.

But still, 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. 

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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.