Icarus Awakens

Rasalia Stoneclaw was the strongest leveled mortal in Aughal. That wasn’t too much of a surprise considering her role. The previous Commander, Zarel Carsow, had been stronger than her before transferring. Not to an Incursion Army, he wasn’t quite there, but to a region with a larger population and greater threats. They had both faced enemies that would make a lightning dragon question its claim to a territory. Such encounters were at times necessary to propel advancement, especially in the higher ranks.

One was not meant to make them the norm. She glanced at the list of kills the other Hero had, under oath, claimed. None below his level, nearly all fought alone. There was one notable exception on both counts.

“A level 4 greater skink? I don’t know if I should question your sanity or your methods.”

Gadriel stood to attention, his sword sheathed and his shield on his back. The wings were stored in a red pouch on his waist, the item being too bulky to wear indoors. And, he suspected wearing them in front of the Commander might be impolite. “In truth, I aimed only to slay the level 3 variant detected some time ago. It appears it Grew before any could take it down.”

The Commander had to stop from rolling her eyes at the overly formal language. She knew it wasn’t the Hero being pretentious but just how some people from Threst spoke. Those who lived in the upper societies, at least. Rasalia had had the chance to visit the region on occasion and had found it too uptight for her tastes.

Otherwise, the mood was civil between them. Perhaps she sat a bit straighter in her chair, but this was a younger member of her class. There was no natural enmity between Heroes like there was between Bards, or Bards and Heroes. She just had to set an example. “And this other group assisted you. The one with the Artificer and that Druid who terrified half of the city? Hunter. Well, that is a name I would expect from someone who preferred a beast form to his normal one.”

“Yes, it is,” Gadriel answered simply, not at all needing a lesson on how to act his class. He’d also carefully avoided an inconvenient truth. Deception wasn’t above him. It was part of how he’d beaten Heldren Storm, though the Hero would term that as a ‘feint’ rather than an outright lie.

“And the other, he fights? That sloth Arpan seems content to rest in his burrow at all hours. There are four individuals in this region at level 5, did you know that? Two, if you don’t count the Builder and Fate. Only one acts with any responsibility.” The distaste in her voice was made clear by the ruffling of several feathers.

“Sir Daniel has shown exemplary courage in battle before,” Gadriel answered, mentally screening out some of the man’s less graceful moments. “In truth, I find it hard to determine completely, though I would place the odds of our escape from the Thormundz far less favorably were he not there.”

“Hmm. If only more were like him. I think some of my hunters are starting to get too cozy on guard duty. That’s the thing about regular pay. It’s worse than what you get hunting, but you can always count on it coming in. With the state of emergency giving it a bump, some of them might be making more.” She sighed, breaking her posture and leaning on the table. Gadriel remained standing, even though there was a chair specifically angled to accept a visitor on his side of the table. “But they’re not advancing. Or, they shouldn’t be advancing, and I’d be concerned if they were. This whole crisis is setting us back. Letting the monsters Grow while our forces stagnate.”

“May I ask a question?” Rasalia waved a hand and, while ambiguous, Gadriel took it as encouragement. “Why the delay in restoration of civil structure? Incidents such as this have happened in the past, surely.”

“What, the majority of the Council getting slaughtered or disgraced? No, it hasn’t.” She glanced out the window to one of the Spires towering above her office. “One or two on occasion, sure, but there’s always someone behind it who steps in. Even if that one’s outed as ‘working against city interests’ or some other polite phrasing of treason, those seats don’t stay open. It’s the damned Silver Eye’s fault. He fractured the lines of power and now no one knows who to side with.”

Gadriel looked blank for a moment. “I see.”

“Sure. Trust me, it’s better that you don’t. I am worried about our civic will, though. There’s that feeling in the air, the kind you get before a Tyrant.”

Gadriel would have drawn his sword if not for how tense he suddenly became. “Is it possible there is one in this region already?”

“No. The Council still rules. What’s left of it, at least.”

“What of a Tyrant from another region?”

She thought on that for a moment, Gadriel’s demeanor not escaping her attention. “Even if the Tyrant you faced in the Thormundz survived, they wouldn’t come here. That’s not how the class works.”

“How so?” Gadriel raised an eyebrow, skeptical. Rasalia frowned.

“Something I’ve heard. Those who take the class, accidental or otherwise, stay in their region. It’s a requirement of the class. Surely it isn’t news that becoming a Tyrant changes someone?”

“No. Indeed, I can attest to that. One would imagine the will to dominate would spread.”

Rasalia acknowledged the point. “That can be how some kingdoms of today came to be. One in the Scythe’s Realm grew far because they had their god’s support. Or so I heard, but the rumor is they always pin down a base of power first.”

Gadriel fell silent at that. His eyes fell on a small symbol worked into the metal of Rasalia’s armor around where the left collarbone would be on a human. A star, representing the Star. Not something obvious like a Cleric may bear, but still. “Have you ever had the chance to speak to one? A god, I mean.”

Rasalia leaned back a bit, surprised by the question. “No. Crest, no. One this far out, well, with what’s happening I suppose there’s a better chance than most would get. But no. For all their power they are only seven, and the world is large.” One of her hands flexed idly on the table before reaching for a flask of water she sipped from awkwardly. “To you, I must seem like the pinnacle of power, for how many ever reach my level?” The question hung in the air for a few seconds, just a few. “Thousands. Millions, maybe. Someday I may make something truly worthy of myself, but on the scale of the gods I am hardly worth considering.”

“I would not say-”

“We should talk about the bounty,” Rasalia cut him off, knowing she wouldn’t need to raise her voice to speak over him. Gadriel stopped talking the moment she started. “It’s late and your companions should be here soon. This is poorly timed with the upcoming meeting and if you and yours weren’t personally involved I might push this to tomorrow.” She sighed. “On the other hand, taking down something that could put a dent in our walls deserves recognition.”

“That was simply a matter of duty.” The Champion across from Gadriel gave him a sharp look and some of the air came out of him. “Well, there may have been some show of skill involved.”

“Sure. But this show of skill is due a considerable sum. I’m curious, you aren’t named yet. Neither was the team that worked with you. Why?”

“There is nothing to our class that mandates a title,” Gadriel said in a dismissive, yet formal tone. He didn’t answer for the team, which she supposed was fair. Rasalia, the Ironrush Ravager, tilted her head slightly.

Struck a nerve? “To each their own then. You’ll have my gratitude either way.” A knock on the door drew the attention of both, the man on the outside pausing briefly before opening it slightly.

“Commander? Lord Seliri is here to see you.”

…

In a lot of ways, the Hunter’s Guild did not meet Daniel’s expectations. The room immediately adjacent to the street wasn’t a grand hall filled with trophies and tough, weapon-clad mercenaries swapping tales like fishers on a dock. Instead, it was small with only a reception desk. A faint fruit smell wafted from a pair of burning candles on the wall, and the temperature of the room defied the outside climate in a way Daniel had come to associate with special attention from a Builder.

What surprised the most was that this entryway bucked the general trend of establishments in Aughal by way of its ceiling, which was not tall enough to accommodate Khiat’s full stature. Even those taverns without ‘Dusk’ in the name generally had a common room large enough to accommodate them, though the sleeping areas didn’t. As it was, the woman that nearly towered over Daniel retracted to about his height, while Hunter mentally grumbled about being pressed in from all sides.

All in all, he was unimpressed. The fact that there weren’t any other doors in the room made him wonder if they’d accidentally wandered into someone’s very small, very mislabeled office.

“Hello, Auriel. We are here to meet with the Commander,” Lograve greeted the woman familiarly, yet stiffly. His somewhat shorter temper from the tavern was growing worse with a small headache. Even the experienced Arcanist was having problems advancing as of late as the toll of level 4 took over. Daniel knew he was concerned he was getting close to his wall. Yesterday he had likened advancing to juggling spike-covered balls that randomly screamed, making Daniel once again grateful for his ability to skip past all of that. “Is Lord Aucrest here already?”

“One moment.” The woman behind the desk was familiar with most of the people here, nodding at Lograve’s request and not looking twice at Hunter. Although, Daniel reasoned, he might not be the only one coming in with a monstrous companion. She flicked a finger lightly against what appeared to be a vanity mirror.

“-Ytaya’s people won’t- Auriel?”

“They’re here, Commander,” the receptionist answered coolly. “Should I send them up?”

Someone sighed on the other end of the magical connection. Avianoid, if that wasn’t enough of a giveaway. “Just the Arcanist. Someone decided to arrive early, and if I break now people will get the wrong idea. We’re meeting on the roof.”

“I see. What of the others?”

“Did all of them come?”

“Yes, and they brought the Druid.”

Another sigh. “I’m going to guess it’s too much to hope they decided to be human today. Show them to the courtyard then.”

“Of course. Right this way please.” A door appeared on one of the walls. Not with a slow transition or dissolution of a shimmering barrier, it just was there now. Auriel opened it for Lograve, glancing back towards the other six in the room. “Stay here for a moment please.”

“Politics,” Evalyn grunted when they were alone. “I hope they don’t make us wait too long.”

“Can they not just give us the money?” Tak asked.

“Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“Uh huh,” Daniel said, still standing by the desk and looking at the mirror.

“What? Oh.” Evalyn followed his gaze and wasn’t surprised when the Artificer pulled out his Focus. “Do you think they’ll mind?”

“Arpan would, but it’s not like this harms it or anything.” Daniel shrugged. “And I’m not going to not learn free formulae- ah damnit.”

Alert: You have attempted to learn a Formulae: Enchanting protected by a Personal Mark. The formulae has not been added to Function: Encyclopedia.

-

Alert: Darn, I was hoping it'd work too.

“No good?” Hunter asked.

“No, Arpan’s shielded this one too.”

“Um,” Khiat spoke up. “What happened with that door?”

“Builder enchantment.” Evalyn elbowed Daniel. “Not even this ‘prodigy’ could do something like that.”

“Well, technically I could-” Another door appeared, this time on a different wall.

“Apologies, but your meeting will have to wait. No longer than an hour, I’m told. Please follow me.”

Not every door in what Daniel would come to call a complex was hidden, but they encountered a few on their journey. Past the initial reception area, there was a set of stairs that were ignored in favor of a carpeted hallway. While the ceilings were still too short for Khiat’s full height, they were at least wide enough to suit Hunter. After a few turns and more hidden doors, plus a couple of near heart attacks due to Hunter and Evalyn respectively, the group was unceremoniously dumped into a large interior courtyard before Auriel took off for her desk.

They were not alone here, but it seemed no one else needed a chaperone. People, predominantly humans and avianoids with the occasional dusker in armor starting to mix in, milled about a roughly rectangular space a hundred meters on the long side. Lining the walls were balconies, doors, and presumed hidden doors, as well as a few odd ladders leading up to the three-story roof. There was even a section of wall that was open to a restaurant.

Both Tak and Evalyn had an odd look in their eyes. “What?”

“It is-” Tak’s beak shut and Daniel realized he hadn’t seen the avianoid taken aback before. Not even learning the secret of his origins had moved the Totem Warrior unduly.

“We didn’t come here last time.” Evalyn brushed at her hair and what might have been a tear. “This looks like the guild in Eido. Not exactly the same, but it’s-”

“Familiar,” Tak said.

“Too familiar.”

“There’s so many people!” Khiat added in what for her was a normal tone, stretching up to her full length and almost making it halfway up the wall. “Are they all Blessed?”

“You wouldn’t get to a place like this if you weren’t. Unless Aughal’s standards are worse.”

“So wait, do they all come through the small entrance?” Daniel asked as Evalyn began moving them forward towards one of the larger clusters of people. Their arrival had been noticed, especially for the armor Hunter wore. He wasn’t the only monster in the square but it was clear at least some had made the connection to the events from a month ago.

“No, that was the guest entrance. I think.” Evalyn frowned. “With everything that happened last time we didn’t think about registering properly, but coming back after tonight we should be able to use the main entrance.” She then smiled as someone approached the group. “Hi! We just blew in.”

Evalyn’s first contact with the native hunters of Aughal nodded politely and looked her in the eyes without needing to make a roundabout journey to get there. “You make it sound so little a thing.” He was human and some kind of dual-wielder judging by the two small swords that were sheathed parallel to his legs. Daniel hadn’t seen too many people with classes to be a flawless observer, but his guess was Ranger. And his developing seventh sense implied this one was at a higher level than he was. It was like that common trivia fact about how humans were always emitting infrared light, only also with mana which Daniel could now sense if he tried to. Since most of his party was somewhere in the range of level 2 he knew what that felt like, and the ripples coming off of this guy were stronger.

“Gordon. Captain of Farthest Run. These’re the fools that put up with me.” The man extended a hand that Evalyn shook. He had one of those hairstyles that could be called full, but not long as it just ended above the shoulders.

He probably cuts it with one of those swords or something, Daniel thought absently. Several others broke out of the throng to make it clear who was on the Ranger’s team. One was obviously a Bard, male and actively appraising Evalyn. A staff-bearer that could be any of the more magic-focused classes, although the lack of any divine symbol on them put off the idea of a Cleric. And the last, for this team was apparently just a four-member party, had…

“Are those bolas?” Daniel wandered over to the fourth member while Evalyn made introductions while simultaneously fending off the other Bard. Though, not making too much of an effort, Daniel noticed.

The last of Farthest Run was an avianoid, female if Daniel’s developed eye for the race could judge, and higher level than him. Loops of rope hung off of her waist from a belt, snaking back to a leather pouch interspaced between where the rings of the bolas were hooked. At least, that’s what he assumed they were because of how each ring had three ropes coming off of it. “Yeah! Most people don’t know what these are until they’ve met the team. Got any in there?” The avianoid nodded towards his bag of holding.

Definitely a woman. “No, just some modified crossbows. Do those work well for monsters?”

“Good enough.” She reached for one of the rings and jerked her hand in a clean motion, making what was in the pouch fly clear. On the end of each rope were weights as expected but with hooked barbs instead of a solid ball.

A gentle giant’s voice rumbled from behind Daniel as Khiat also took interest. “How do those work?”

“Dusker?” The woman asked herself before coughing to cover the surprise. “Uh, sorry. Normally, they’re meant to tie up the legs of whatever we’re chasing.” She looked around for a moment and then smiled. “Most people have to wind them up to throw, but for me, well, watch.” She spun tightly in place, holding the central ring of the bolas as the weights trailed behind. With the completion of a full turn she released, and the weapon made contact with someone closer in the center of the courtyard. There was a cry of alarm but not the violent reaction Daniel suddenly feared. There were some harsh looks amidst the general indifference, but no one pulled out a weapon of their own. “Ass.”

“Is that guy ok?”

“Oh yeah, I used Merciful Throw. Blunts the hooks, useful if we’re trying to take something alive for a Beastmaster.”

“Also useful now that we’re on guard patrol. Qess, can you not aggravate half the guild?” Gordon, who hadn’t missed the throw, broke from the second half of the two team’s conversation to chastise the avianoid.

“You heard what he said about Marky!”

“And I remember him apologizing after we told him how much of an idiot he was.” In the distance, the bound man had pulled out a knife to cut the ropes. Qess didn’t seem too concerned about the imminent loss of one of her weapons, which Gordon noticed. “Qess, you didn’t-”

A flash of light and then a cry of pain as the man cutting himself loose was jolted by seemingly ordinary rope. Qess just shrugged, but the staff-bearer beside Gordon frowned. “I don’t need you to punish the ignorance of others on my behalf.” The man, human like Gordon, had a deeper voice even though he was about the same height and frame as Daniel. Also, level 2 like the Bard in their party. Odd that they weren’t all on the same level. “Can you release that ability before you get us kicked out?”

“Sorry, Marky.”

The two teams relocated closer to the open restaurant, which thankfully kept to the 24/7 schedule many establishments did in Aughal. While Daniel was surprised to find a professional team with a mixture of different levels, Farthest Run had more ammunition to scrutinize his own team’s composition. “Which one of you is the Beastmaster?” Marky asked, as they all spoke over drinks rather than socialize with the other teams. While Qess’ actual assault of another member of the guild hadn’t been addressed by any authority figure, or directly challenged by the man struck, there was a divided sense in the air now that gave Daniel the impression they’d just missed something.

“He’s-”

“Druid.” Hunter smiled but did not receive the same jaw drop of surprise from every member of the other team.

Marky nodded, almost as if he’d expected that response. “Makes sense because of the armor. How long can you keep that form, if you don’t mind the question?”

“As long as I want to.” The ringcat seemed a little wary, although Daniel was the only one to notice this. Hunter didn’t have Druid powers, and getting into the specifics could be troublesome.

“A passive form! Let me guess, you’re probably forced into that one rather than having a choice. Still, a respectable power. And, again, the armor, yes, I see.” Marky nodded his approval, gesturing to his cloth robes. “To make use of my powers, I cannot wear anything that wouldn’t shift with them. But to have a consistent body, it makes sense to be in already be in a battle form. That must be a pain to put on mid-fight.”

“Yes.”

“You’re a Druid too?” Evalyn asked.

“Marky’s our Druid alright. Not many in the guild formally. You, Hunter, would make the sixth or seventh by my count.” Gordon stumbled briefly over the name, clearly thinking something about it he didn’t comment on. “You’ve got a decently balanced team otherwise, especially if your Druid can heal like ours does.”

“Well, that is one of our weaker points. Those three can self-heal,” Evalyn pointed out to everyone with Regeneration. “And Khare, our gestalt, can hide below the ground from most monsters if they have to. But if I or Khiat get into trouble and take a bad wound, we would be in trouble.”

“You don’t use potions?”

“We just came from the Thormundz. I’m sure you’ve heard?” All four nodded. “Well, not just, but this is the first time we’ve turned in any kills worth something.”

“Glad to have someone picking up the slack.” The avianoid threw her head back with a bit of annoyance in her voice. “The guard here needs to get their act together so we can get back on the road.”

“Wait, but how’d you afford all those tasteful bags?” The Bard cut in, who had otherwise been deftly shuffled off to the outskirts of the conversation until now. “Taloran, charmed of course. Lovely leather by the way. Can’t pin the source but looks high level. Complements your hips well- Ow! Alright, Qess alright.”

“It’s the Artificer team. You didn’t notice?” Qess, who as it turns out was the second Ranger of the four, asked.

“What? Really, but, oh!” For the first time, the Bard noticed someone other than Evalyn. “Oh. You, and you,” he looked between Daniel and Hunter. “Druid! Of course! But I thought-”

“Since it’s come up, we’d be interested in doing business if you’ve got spares.” Gordon graciously smiled at Daniel. “It’s been a while since we were on the good hunts but we’ve got some coin saved. And it seems like if you’re not high up in the Spires the other Artificer here won’t give you the time of day. The Guild has to petition if a team’s hurting for something and that means paying extra.”

“I mean, there’s a few Arcanists that can do some work,” Qess added. “Nothing like what an Artificer can do though. I spent three gold on an enchanted bolas that broke as I was throwing it! Can you believe that?”

Daniel was a little taken aback, and surprised to find parts of mind lighting up. The same odd intuition that had hit whenever he’d dealt with Arpan as several of the more mercantile powers he possessed flickered on. “Well, I’ve pretty much used all of the leather we had and I’m still new at this. I don’t think I could make a bag without more level 4 stuff.”

“Where’d you get level 4 monster leather?” Qess asked. Marky had the answer before anyone on Daniel’s side said anything.

“Greater skink. You were with that Hero that took it down.”

“Allegedly took down.”

“Tal, I’d bet my staff that’s skink leather. And I thought you’d gotten over this Hero aversion.”

“I can’t help it!” The Bard exclaimed. “Great, you killed a level 4. So what? Pay ‘em and get on with it. Nothing to shout from the rooftops over.”

“No one is-”

“Hey!” Lograve’s voice broke over the general murmur of the crowd as the man himself leaned over one of the rooftop banisters. “Can’t I take any of you somewhere nice without someone being assaulted? We’re taking a break, so get over here before they decide that skink died of a heart condition and withhold your bounty.” Taloran glanced smugly at the Druid.