Chapter 52: Introductions (1) (Patreon)

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“Out of fifteen, ten are from a different guild?!”  I found myself yelling, getting up from my seat.

Pointell just blinked.

“FUCK!”  I sat back down, thinking.

This changed things.  

Guild branches by nature weren’t necessarily friendly; just business partners much like Yousef and Marc had.  But that didn’t mean they were above murder.  Especially where a Fracture Dungeon was involved.  Let me put it this way; I got more Game Overs from NPCs backstabbing me in dungeons than dying to monsters.  If NPCs in my own party could backstab me, what was to stop adventurers from a different guild from doing so?

“This is dangerous.”  Kyrian whispered.  He had reached the same conclusion I had.

“Mr. Lock.  Mr. Tricilo.  Mr. Deepeater.  I am at the end of my ropes.  Hearing that you are Grade 6 and 7, I was surprised.  It’s rare to see such talent end up at my doorsteps.”  Pointell spread his hands.  “I called you here to make sure you weren’t spies nor working for Yousef.  But from the rumors it seems that you are on your own.”

“Get to the point.”  My sour mood was growing worse by the second.

“I’d like to start a working relationship with you.  As equals.  If you can fulfill this request for me, you can be assured that the Guild will back you in any future endeavors you take on as Adventurers.”

“He’s making sure I can’t bring in the Slum issue to him by adding in that clause about Adventurers… it’s still an attractive offer though.”  

“Mr. Pointell, let us hear your offer first.”  Kyrian spoke while I was deep in thought.

“My task for you is this: survive the Fracture along with the other two adventurers from my guild.  If you can get the other adventurers to acknowledge 50%, not even, 40% of the loot to bring back from the Fracture, then I will consider it a success.”

“Just tell it to me straight.  Core, Plurality or Splinter.  Which one is more important to you?”  I glared at him.  I didn’t mind revealing my knowledge about the Core, Plurality or Splinter at this point: Kyrian had already gone over it.  “And don’t give me bullshit numbers like 40% or 50%.  It’s five against ten and you think adventurers are stingy old shopkeepers who are willing to haggle? Our haggling is done with blades and I won’t bet money on five adventurers winning against ten.”

“...The guild doesn’t care about the Core nor Plurality.  We have four Fracture Splinters in place.  If you can bring back a Fracture Splinter, then we will give you and your party rights to that Fracture, provided that the guild gets a share.”

Fracture Splinters only dropped from the Fracture Boss and if you could gather five of them; it opened up another Fracture of a higher level.

“...How many fracture splinters does the other Guild have?”  Kyrian asked quietly.

“Four.”

“FUCK!”  I cursed inwardly again.  They were going to be just as desperate as us.  I didn’t even want to know what the other guild master promised those ten fuckers.

“2000 gold.  Upfront, to cover your equipment.  If you can bring back a Fracture Splinter, you won’t have to pay me back.  Plus any other loot that you find can be split amongst the five of you.”

This was dangerous.

Really dangerous.

The chance of being backstabbed was almost 99%.

At the same time… It was a chance to go into a Fracture.  Possibly twice.

Fractures had higher Core drops and rarer monsters.  For Kyrian who needed to gather Spirit Cores and melt them down into Mana Cores to advance, it was crucial and the same went for Skaris who only had two Cores.  I wasn’t near level 30 yet for sure –so no new Cores for me– but equipment dropped in Fracture Dungeons as well.

I had to take the risk.

We all had to.

“You…”  I met Kyrian’s worried eyes and Skaris’ defiance.  

“You have a deal.”

He brought out a coin bag which I made disappear into my Dimension Ring.

“At the northern entrance of the city, there will be a carriage waiting for you.  You can meet your other two teammates then.”

We left Marc Pointell’s office immediately and out of frustration, I purposefully stepped loudly on his perfect wooden stairs, stomping my presence. 

“Lock, I’ve never seen you so agitated.”

“This was a trap.  The whole thing.”  I muttered darkly.  “There’s no way Yousef didn’t know about the Guild’s circumstances.  They’re in cahoots with each other.  Yousef is testing us to see if we’re worth bringing to the Colosseum, despite his claims that he wants us there.  Marc Pointell wants to use us as a third party player; if we die no loss on his part but if we succeed? He gets all the glory.”

“But we ssstill get a cut of the sssspoils.”

“That’s the issue.  They both knew that the offer was too good to pass up for people like us, new to this town and without a single coin to our name.”  I gritted my teeth.  “We’re being thrust into the tiger’s den and helping them do it.”

“Then why didn’t you say no?”  Kyrian looked confused.  “We could have simply walked away.”

This was one part where I felt more experienced than the two of them.  It wasn’t the first time I’d been roped into a questline involving politics.  This sense of helplessness, being forced into a corner was typical of MSS questlines.

“We could have… but we’re new in Miltus, where we don’t know anyone.  If we turn down Yousef and Marc Pointell, who can we even go to next?”

Kyrian’s eyes narrowed in realization.  “The Slum Lord.”

“That’s… one option I haven’t thought of.”  I felt myself grimace at the very thought of reaching out a hand for help towards the man who ruled over the Slums.  “Marc Pointell is key to this.  If the guild truly owns rights to the dungeons around here, then we can’t get strong.  Without Cores, without equipment; we’re just waiting for a slow death.”

“I’d rather go out fighting, Ssslaveborn.”

With that, I could agree.

“Come on… at least we have some gold now.  Let’s go buy us some proper equipment.”

***

Shopping for new equipment and walking back to the Slums took most of our day.  Thankfully, I had made some progress with the refugees.  I managed to send off most of them to the Adventurer’s Guild to be registered; hopefully they’d start learning how to dungeoneer and farm monsters.  I gave them some basic guidance, telling them which monsters would be appropriate to hunt for them.  Most seemed to take my lessons to heart; though I was sure just as many fell on deaf ears.

Finally, after another night at the slums we arrived at the promised meeting spot north of Miltus.

We found the other twelve members of this Fracture Raid waiting for us.

“Finally, they arrive.”  A red-haired human adventurer with piercings on his ears, lips and forehead glared at us.  He had a shield and sword leaning against the rock he was sitting on; same as me then.

“Apologies.”  I muttered; it had taken longer than I thought for us to get outfitted in new armor.

The human adventurer wrinkled his nose and narrowed his eyes.

Kyrian, Skaris and I had silently agreed to keep our new equipment in our Dimension Rings so as to not get the smell on them.  But we had not realized just how powerful the stench really was; it was embedded in our bodies now and I doubted one bath would be enough to get it out.  We still smelled like garbage, excrement and food waste.

For all the smell we reeked of; our armors were squeaky clean and shiny.  Skaris had opted for a metal breastplate with red leather sleeves.  His waist armor was red as well; matching the scales on his temples.  He had finally parted with the halberd he had looted off of a dead Akka Xalud soldier from Samak City; he had a spear made of reddish metal and with a dark mahogany shaft.  It wasn’t active yet but his spear would light up with magical runes when forcing mana into it.  He wasn’t wearing it yet but had a helmet which he called a ‘bolzano’.

The cost of his armor and spear had been 2500 gold.

Yes; the fucker took more than half our budget himself.  It was understandable though; Kyrian and I already had weapons that we could use in this dungeon,

Kyrian had kept his oak staff with the yellow crystal.  He had opted to change out his mage robe instead; the beige robe had been replaced by a light blue robe with white-yellow accents that complimented his blonde hair, which was tied in a long ponytail that barely reached his shoulders.  With his pale skin, sharp features and baby blue eyes, the mage made a very striking figure.

His blue robes contained golden runes inscribed inside the robe.  It would work to dissipate any physical force that struck him.  It cost 800 gold.

I wore a plain scale mail which came a little past my waist.  On my arms I wore the dark-green chitinous armguard and matching greaves on my legs.  On my left hand; I held the Akka Xalud kite shield and my jagged katana from the Lucky Beckoning Cat.  The only thing that was new was the neck protection piece Skaris recommended: a bevor.

I had opted to put the rest of my budget into getting my armor painted into a tinge of black; hopefully it would help me camoflauge myself better than standing in shadow.  Also it was to make sure no one would recognize the Akka Xalud pieces; they were more black than green now.

They had thrown in the color customization and my bevor for only a 100 gold; since we had spent so much money on Skaris’ armor.

With the rest of the 600 gold; we bought 6 high grade healing potions, each of us holding onto 2 of them.  Then we gathered what silver and coppers we had to buy jerky, stonecrackers and water for the Fracture.

If it was a 15 party Fracture; I was expecting us to stay around a week at the least.

Instead of drooling over our armors –especially over Skaris’ new equipment set– I finally turned my attention back to the ten people who were supposed to be our party for this dungeon.

I could tell who belonged to Marc Pointell’s branch and who belonged to the branch from different cities immediately.  Two women were sitting apart from the others, one with a mild smile and the other with nothing at all.  The smiling elf woman wore a black dress, cinched at the waist with a silver belt.  From the head covering she wore, a veil, I could tell she belonged to some kind of Church.

A healer then.

Most elves had disparate hair colors than humans, hers was a dark purple and hung low to her hips.  I studied her dress, noticing that the neckline was a bit too low and the dress tight around her curves just enough for it to toe the line between fashionable and improper.  Her eyes were a shade of lavender in the same hue as her hair.

I looked away from her, feeling the urge to wretch.  Since I had that run-in with Snow White who had cast [Charm] on me, I felt uncomfortable around women who were beautiful.  It wasn’t that I couldn’t appreciate their beauty, quite the opposite.  I’d had a girlfriend before and knew what it was like to want someone.  But when I found myself feeling attracted to a woman because of their looks… Well, let’s just say my blind eye started to ache.

She must have felt my eyes on her and came over to introduce herself.  

“You must be Marc’s latest recruits.  My name is Eltis.”  She bowed her head respectfully.  “The Church of the Nine sends their regards.”

“Lock.”  I kept my introduction short.

“Skaris of Clan Deepeater.”

“Kyrian Tricilan.”

The red-haired pierced fighter introduced himself, his face still sour.  “Pyret Sunt.  I am the leader of this group; we are your reinforcements from Eretia.”

He didn’t bother giving us his hand for a handshake.  “Since we’re here, why don’t we do some basic introductions.”

The rest of the Eretians introduced themselves but since there were nine of them, the introductions took awhile.

Baran was an elven archer, evidenced by the bow on his back and the feathered cap.  He had come along with his twin sister, Sarai –an elven mage with orange hair which matched her brothers, introduced herself.

“What magic do you specialize in?”  I blurted out.

She frowned then cast a nervous look at Pyret, the sword-and-board fighter.

It was already starting.

This Fracture was a miniature sized war between the  two cities.  Some might call it a competition but once we entered the Fracture, no matter how low, there was the chance that the Eretians could turn on the Miltus adventurers.  In my point of view, that was war.  Me asking for her specialization could be taken as a means to gain information ahead of time.

And yes, I was doing exactly that.

But it was also a Fracture.  Teamwork could only happen if we had a rough understanding of what the other individuals were capable of.

Pyret seemed to come to the same realization I had, he answered on her behalf.  “She specializes in Curses.”

I gritted my teeth at the MSS word for ‘debuff mage’.  There were dozens of different types of curses. From curses that focused on slowing down the enemy, lowering their defense, taking away their sight all the way to sealing abilities or skills.  He wasn’t giving me much to work with.

So the game of cat’s paws had already started.  Neither side would be willing to give up too much information to the other.

“I see that Kyrian is a mage as well, perhaps we could hear what he specializes in.”  

I saw the mange in question give a handsome smile and Sarai actually blushed.  “I specialize in offensive spells.”

I could almost forgive him for being popular with women; he gave them the same answer they had.  He didn’t give them any element he specialized in.  The rest of the Eretians introduced themselves and I took notes in my head.

Hurgrin, a cloaked dwarf with the lower part of his face hidden and three daggers strapped to each of his thigh; the attire was sufficient explanation for what he was.

Forma Nurg.  The plain-faced brunette archer was the one of the three humans in the Eretian party along with Pyret and Trulia.  Forma had a striking scar running across the bridge of her nose, other than that she was pretty unassuming.

Trevor was the priest on their team; a large blonde man with the silver pendant in the shape of the sun.  A member of the Church of Light, Flame and Shield from Turina.

“Trevor, Hurgrin, Sarai, Forma and Baran are part of my original party.”  Pyret explained and somehow managed to make it sound cocky.

Of course.  His team had Trevor as the Healer; Sarai as the mage with Hurgrin, Froma and Baran as the damage dealers.  Judging by Pyret’s shield, a upside-down tear-shaped hunk of metal many times bigger than my own, he was definitely the tank in his party.  While I was analyzing his team composition and trying to think of what Cores they might be holding; Pyret pissed me off.

“Heh.”  He gave a condescending chuckle while looking over my own party.

He was looking down on us.

“These four have worked with us in the past.” Trevor explained with a deep baritone.

“Track.”  A cat-eared beastman with blue hair introduced himself.  Like Pyret he had numerous piercings, though his were confined to the blue-furred cat ears on top of his head.  His weapon of choise were two shortswords.  Unlike Pyret he traded grips with us.

“Nice to see another Beastman in this raid.”  Track commented while trading grips with Skaris.  “New to Jayu?”

Skaris nodded silently, sizing up the feline warrior.  Even from a glance I could tell Track was well trained, his footsteps were light and his movements were sure.  He wasn’t as tall as me, just shy of six-feet, but made up for it with an air of confidence.

I wouldn’t claim to be at Skaris’ level yet but I could tell; Track was probably the most skilled warrior in the Eretian party.  

I’d have to kill him first.

When he and I traded grips, I saw him look up and down; sizing me up in return.  He looked back and forth between Skaris and me.  He finally smiled, flashing his fangs and pierced tongue.

“Fun.”  He said simply.

“Name’s Dibo Letum.  If we are sharing what we specialize in, suffice to say I’m an Earth-mage.”  Probably the oldest looking member of this party; an elf with pure white hair and a matching beard.  Unlike his reed-like frame, his voice was strong.

Then he waved his staff at the two next to him.  “Us three have been a party since our youth.”

“Krag, Church of Hammer and Anvil.”  A bald dwarf with long robes that folded over at his feet and an equally long gray beard.  “Hammer bless your path, young’ins.”

“Ramhof.  Knight of the Church of Hammer and Anvil.”  A dwarf equally as old as Dibo and Krag introduced himself, but unlie the two he wore heavy armor with a maul larger than himself slung over one shoulder.  Like Krag, he was bald but kept his beard shaved to a stubble of black and gray.  “I am with Krag and Dibo.”

“You’re a Knight?”  I asked.

“Aye.”  Ramhof answered.  Much like Hurgrin and Baran, he gave off the heavy aura of a man who wasn’t much for speaking.

Ramhof being a knight was a problem.  That meant he had unlocked his Dwarven racial trait and being a Knight of a Church meant he had abilities that only Holy Knights could use… 

The odds were really stacked against us.

Pyret’s six-man party.  Dibo and his two dwarven priest and holy knight.  Then Track who seemed to be the Wild Card in all this…

Finally the fifteenth member of this raid, and the last person from Miltus join in the conversation.

She had clear skin, free of any marrings or imperfections.  If I had to nitpick, it was that her features were too fine, too beautiful that was an imperfection in and of itself; too otherworldly.  The gray-haired woman was heavily armored; decked out in full plate armor made of Cold Silver, evidenced by the slight blue sheen her armor reflected as she moved.  Her hair was done up in a neat bun with two sticks stabbed through which only sharpened her feminine  facial features, naturally drawing my gaze to her emerald eyes.

She had a huge tower shield made of the same Cold Silver with a large red-crystal embedded in the center.  Definitely a magical-item, at least Rare Grade.  It made my chipped katana, which was probably a Rare as well, look like damaged goods in comparison.  On her back was a colossal lance, longer than she was tall.

“Aurora.”  She introduced herself.  “Aurora Candrian Vetilian.  Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

***