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Fantasy The Arcane Guild of Barkbrew

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Action, Adventure, LGTBQ Friendly, Magical
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The Arcane Guild of Barkbrew, Arc 1: Adventurers, Assemble!
Barkbrew RP.png
The Guild of Barkbrew covered up by a truly encapsulating graphic

A river, the Sproutholm River, the water as clear as water filtered through an pseudo-industrial, mercantile, filthy capital could be, ran through the forest beside a path that had probably been graveled some decades ago. At the end of the path a middle-aged man, probably in his forties but well over his peak, stands embedded in a craggy green coat, seemingly awaiting someone, or maybe anyone. He scrambled with a stack of papers, if the amount of papers could even be called a stack, and his head flickEd up from the descriptions of his new employees and onto the end of the path leading to the woodhouse hideout, that would by anyone not working for the Taxation of Sproutholm Real Estate department be called the Guildhouse of Barkbrew. A crow hung out on the railing of the guildhouse, crowing slightly.

You just arrived at the Guildhouse of Barkbrew, a name that might sound related to location, but lies in the middle of Sproutholm forest, a forest that is, unlike the guild, named adequately. It had been a sketchy path, both as in an uncomfortable, ominous walk in the woods, and a barely defined trail, were you not to have encountered a fellow colleague attempting to follow the dotted pathway.

“Okay uhh, I assume you’ve all arrived now?”

He scurried through the papers, his eyes oscillating between the head of each guild-member and the coffee stained stack. A single paper was blown out of his hand before landing in the river. He looked at it idly, before shrugging and returning his gaze onto the group.

“I think we’re all here, we’ll do introductions”

He looked down at the top of the stack and haphazardly pointed at the leftmost individual, his other hand gripping the remaining papers firmly, adamant not to let mother nature interfere with his business venture.

“You there, introduce yourself”

His decrepit green pointed hat flailed slightly in the wind, along with his coat, which would be described by anyone looking at it as more of a robe, as it had lost it’s shape through the years.


-*NPC unlocked: Chester Squaggleskirt, Guildmaster of The Arcane Guild of Barkbrew*-
 
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Florida_Man16

Honey, where's my alligator?
Name: Eira
Ability/Type: Ice Magic/Innate
Location: Barkbrew Guildhouse
Interaction: @BlackoutThieving

The directions to the guild were horrible. It took days to find out what city was the starting point, which was a few weeks away from the village Eira had received her invitation at. Even once she had sold her goods and secured passage and began travel, the road seemed intent on keeping her lost. Convoluted paths, routes that didn't exist, instructions to talk to people that were long dead, who wrote this? Fortunately, it's much more difficult to make lost a Falconer like Eira. Eae was a snowy owl, a diurnal breed, and had no trouble flying high and spotting the road, and leading her to Sproutholm. From there it was harder to get lost with the river, which was disgusting compared to the rivers of her homeland.

Eae hooted his disapproval as the humid wind blew through the wind-tunnel like path. Well, path was an overstatement. It was more like the trail left behind by a deer running from a hunter. Not that Eira could really get lost in this brush. It was so... poorly concealed, at least to her eye.

As the snowy-haired huntress came around the final bend, Eae screeched his complaint as a stained sheet of paper whizzed by in the breeze as he flew. Taking refuge on Eira's shoulder, he looked around for other flying papers. Eira's focus was on the man with the papers who started talking. His clothing looked like he was a beggar, and he was an old beggar, too. Life was kinder to the poor and old in the south, it seemed. If they were up north, Chester would likely be frozen in a snowbank until spring.

“You there, introduce yourself!", the old man said. Being pointed at by a dirty old man caused Eira to reach for the knife at her hip and make sure her coin purse was hidden. You never know with sketchy old people.

"Eira, fur trader," Eira replied, "The owl is Eae," she added when the bird gave sharp disapproval with his talons.
 

RedLeftHand36

Aspiring Lich
Aldous the Crow
Chapter I: New Blood
"Before there was time - Before there was anything - there was Nothing. And before there was Nothing... there were Monsters."


In an era of constant wandering, travelling distances is a common nuisance. Though it was tolerable, the travels were not without their mishaps, and as such, it was not particularly long into his journey before Aldous simply disregarded the actual words of the letter sent to him, and forthwith simply let his fair feathered friends guide his way. After all, it was yet another crow who had offered him the peculiar letter. In full honesty, it was quite unexpected. Sure, it wouldn't be unsurprising that he had a bit of a reputation of sorts, meandering the realm, utilizing his arcane capabilities to earn coin or gain favours, all in his never ending quest for expanding his knowledge. But to be invited to a guild? Now that was peculiar. After all, he was particularly reclusive in terms of his personality, never talking to others, doing no favours or gestures of kindness, always doing business only. In hindsight, might this be a probable reason? A man who gets things done could certainly be a valuable asset. But it was more likely to be just a single point in a myriad of reasons. Oh well. Time would tell, as it oft did. Aldous was certainly glad his imagination of the location was perfectly inaccurate. He much preferred the solace of forests to the rancid scented coagulations of people that dotted about the realm, festering with the populace of extroverted nuisances and asinine thuggery. An uncomfortable bother, though something he was willing to put up with when the occasion arrived. But here in the forest? Far more peaceful. Far more quiet. And the occasional screams could certainly remain unheard. The guild-house seemed quaint enough. The area was a bit warm for his tastes, but suitable. enough. Perhaps if it showed more promise of rainfall, it could be quite ideal. Aldous was quite fond of precipitation, after all.

Ah yes, there he was. One of his little friends loomed upon the structure. This was indeed his destination. And Aldous was not alone. A small, aging man, clad in green. A white haired woman, likely from the more northern areas as well as he. And a feathered friend herself. A bit too much in common for his tastes. But who knew, as the Fates had a funny enough sense of humour. Owls were fun and all, but not as wise as their symbology would have them. He wondered if the woman knew that, but he knew better than to strike conversation. He wasn't particularly interested in making friends. Of course, he wasn't here to seek competition or to establish enemies or rivals. Too bothersome when he didn't have any experiment on hand. It was, however, rather amusing to see her take up defense so quickly. It wasn't so much as he didn't think the older fellow couldn't be a threat, but a man like that out here with all those papers? Unmistakably the guild master. Well, for Aldous, anyway, it would seem. They weren't on much of a trail, and it was unlikely some cretin was just wandering this area looking for coin. Especially with all that paperwork. He couldn't even help himself from chuckling his gravelly chuckle, a sound like rusty metal being dragged over stone.

Perhaps the woman could learn by example. He shouldn't expect people to not be on edge in such unfamiliar territory anyway.

"Aldous," he said plainly and simply, before producing his letter for confirmation.
 

Aravini

Heck
Jimmy the Jester.jpg
Zyk The jester
Located at: Guildhouse of Barkbrew
Talking to:
@BlackoutThieving

As Zyk walked through the various paths in the forest, he grew annoyed by the idiotic directions given to him. He could definitely do one better, in fact, he could do it if his arms were tied and had his eyes gouged out. As he continued to walk deeper into the land, he grew discontent of the place. Branches and bugs getting to his suit, birds annoying his hat thinking it to be a nest of some sort. Not to mention, there wouldn't be a lot of people to entertain in the forest, so hopefully the guild would pay him well for his trouble.

He reached what seemed to be a guild house, ahead of it was a small gathering of a group of people, two of them facing away from Zyk. These must be his fellow guild members. One was a pretty woman, hair white as ice and cloud, wearing what looked to be primitive clothing. The clothing made her looked to be more of a savage beast than a woman. Another was a lad wearing a full black attire with a mask of the same colour that made him look like a dying crow. Looks like Zyk wasn't the only mask-wearing freak around here.

"The name's Zyk." He said to the old man in green attire. "Zyk the Jester, Zyk the curse, the hunter of the wicked." He made an elegant bow towards the man.
 
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Tigerman1211

GAR for GARcher
Escan Galafey
Location: Barkbrew Guild Hall


"Well, I've definitely had worse days, so this really isn't all that bad"

This thought was Escan’s way to convince himself to continue as he trudged through the seemingly endless Sproutholm Forest, passing by a suspicious stump he was sure he had walked past before. He had followed what little instructions were given to him on the letter he had, but at some point, he had wandered off the path, and as a result, he had become horribly lost. The letter itself was strange, he had found it inside of one of the books he was currently reading, somehow bound into the book in between the real pages. It was the only real lead he had towards finding a real guild to join, though he might have looked a bit longer if he knew what he was getting himself into. But the past is the past, and he was determined to reach the guildhouse, though that determination petered out some once he realized he was nearing that blasted stump again.

"I'll never make it at this pace.” He muttered to himself, “I’m not even sure if this will even work, but there’s no harm, right? Probably. Not many other options, anyways.”

Escan sat down on the log, took a deep breath, and focused. As his eyes and hair went pale, he felt the strange sensation of ambient magic flowing through him, and he attempted to see if he could sense any nearby magics. This application of his ability was still somewhat new to him and required a significant amount of concentration to even use, so, unfortunately, he was not very sensitive to the changes in his environment that were the markers of magic’s use. Escan sat there for several minutes, trying to see if there was anything of magical significance in the area. He’d figured that, of all things, a guild dedicated to magic would leave enough of an impression to be felt, but he wasn’t able to make out anything, at least not magical. What he did notice, focused as he was, was the faint sound of running water.

“Well, there’s one direction I haven’t tried, why not?” he said, getting up off the log, and heading in the sound’s general direction.

He spent the next few minutes trying to head towards the sound, with some level of difficulty given the underbrush. Eventually, he stumbled out of the treeline and onto what some people might call a discernible path if they had superhuman eyesight. Looking around, he saw that a couple of people were gathered around an older man towards the end of the ‘path.’ Escan figured that this place fit the guild description as good as any other part of these woods, so he walked up and joined the group.

As each member introduced themselves, he got more and more nervous that he might be in the wrong place entirely. The disheveled man seemed the right sort for a magic guild if a little too disorganized, the huntress looked very primitive and had a rather cold demeanor but her bird looked pleasant enough, the man in black had an ominous feeling about him which his mask and odd reply did not help, and the Jester’s words and attire frightened him quite plainly. The smiling mask was unnerving to start, but to dress in jester’s clothes while you traveled the forest? That was an act reserved for the insane, at least in his opinion. Turning away from the others, he began to search in his satchel for the letter.

“Um, hello, I’m Escan. I’m a medic by trade, this is—ah, here it is,” He says as he pulls out his letter, presenting it to who he assumed was the guild leader, ”This is the guild meeting right? For the Barkbrew Guild?”
 
The obsidian-black crow, never remaining static, eyed the unfortunate souls arriving at the guild-"house". It recognized them, having stalked them since long ago. It picked at a bug crawling on the railing, before returning it's beady glare back onto the newly-appointed guildmembers. Dormant, it awaited further instructions, not exactly aware of it's renewed function. The dark figure twitched it's neck slightly, making a noise not unlike that of a dying dog toy. Age was becoming an issue.

Chester looked at the four newcomers in a dull manner, his pointed green hat failing to stand upright, drooping down into his face slightly. Damn the wizardry traditions he thought as he adjusted the hat slightly. He glared at his papers after hearing the primitive white-haired lady inform him her her name, whom seemed on edge, as she hovered her hand over her hip, presumingly ready to strike. Another bird he thought, hoping that Cornn wouldn't be jealous, although he doubted such majestic creatures ability to feel envy. Another newcomer, the one which's invitation Chester had almost scrapped introduced themselves as Aldous. Despite his own grim experiences, he was freaked out slightly by the masked man, doubting his willingness to be subservient.

"Ah yes, Chronus..." he mumbled as he sifted through the papers, ignoring the letter that the man had produced for him. He didn't need a letter for anyone to prove they were invited; It wasn't exactly possibly to locate the guildhouse without a bit of trickery. They shouldn't have noticed.

He nodded at the third member, a jester whom had showed potential despite lacking magical ability before turning his attention to the fourth. His hat once again drooped and slight twitch occured beneath his eye. He continued calmly.

"Indeed, this is the guild meeting for the Barkbrew Guild, Escan." He had learnt to adress people by name on his guildmaster course - it was supposed to make them feel more at ease, not that it worked. The advice was too expensive for Chester to justify passing it up, though. The river ebbed dissapointingly.

"Before we continue, I'll have to ensure that you truly want to be part of the guild." He read from the introduction paper he had written on the course, with the help of one of the local tavern owners.

"Recite this passage: I, guildmember of Barkbrew, pledge my allegian-" He stopped, realizing ale stains wouldn't allow him to comprehend the inked symbols. He shuffled awkwardly on his feet.

"You know what? You're accepted, screw the formalities." He said. Just like he had screwed the formalities of registering the property he thought to himself. He gestured the newly-appointed guildmembers towards the treehouse.

"Follow me, I'll explain the conditions while we have some tea - on the house." His robes dragged themselves across the forest ground as he waltzed towards the wooden staircase, if you could call the seemingly natural branches lining up the tree in unnatural fashion. The organic wooden railing was covered in moss and bugs, but he didn't hesitate supporting himself on the damp beams. A few ants slid off before his hand could wipe them off, aware of this ritual. He arrived at the first floor, ignoring he webs that filed the front, and opened the creaky door into a room much bigger than the outside. A small hall presented itself, which in the middle had a round table with four chairs surrounding it. The floor was creaky wood and the walls were filled with shelves holding gimmicky items of all sorts, magic and mechanical. A small kitchen was to the immediate left of the entrance and the smell of tea was prominent, completely overshadowing the stinky drawers. In the entrance a tiger pelt functioned as a doormat.

Chester whispered an incantation and a light without source was conjured above the middle of the table. He motioned with his hand and floated the kettle and five cups onto the table and waited for the newcomers to finish admiring the gadgets that decorated the walls.
 

Florida_Man16

Honey, where's my alligator?
Eira the Huntress
Ability/Type: Ice Magic/Innate
Location: Guildhouse
Interaction: @BlackoutThieving

Eira found it somewhat amusing that another bird trainer should appear, although ravens and crows were much, much different than owls. Eae sensed that he was outnumbered and outgunned by Aldous' murder, and hunkered down on Eira's shoulder, keeping his wings slightly open to appear larger and keeping his talons loose so he could take off quickly.


It appeared that Aldous leaned hard into the crow theme, however, with his ebony bird mask and hood. What pestilence was taking the land that a plague doctor should be out and about? Not that it really mattered to her, diseases did not fair well in the cold of her homeland, which she now carried with her. Still, it was quite unusual.

Shaking her head at Chester's attempt at gaining fealty, Eira followed the man into the Guildhouse, leaving behind a trail of frost on the railings and floor where the damp froze in her passing. The larger inside of the guild hall was intriguing, but seeing as it was an arcane guild, some magical tricks were to be expected.

The technological wonders were also of little consequence. If Eira was unable to do something, what could a small machine change? It was useless to her, although she considered that perhaps it was not so for others.

She leaned her pack, which had her quiver, hatchet, and sleeping roll attached, against her chair with her bow across her lap as she sat down. "You've gone to great pains to find and send for us, mister. Would you care to explain why?"
 

Aravini

Heck
Jimmy the Jester.jpg


Zyk The jester
Located at: Guildhouse of Barkbrew
Talking to: @BlackoutThieving


What an odd fellow, Zyk thought as he followed the old man into the guild house. The stairs seemed to be made of branches bent and morphed to be stairs, it must have been magic. Why must magic be involved with everything? Isn't the art of crafting not suitable enough?

Once they were inside, Zyk attention was quickly on the various mechanical objects hanged on the walls. He inspected them thoroughly, fascinated by the technology. He suspected the guild to be all magic but this was a pleasant surprised. The guild starting to seem promising.

The old man summoned a floating light in the middle of the table then floated a kettle and five cups on the table. Zyk rolled his eyes...well, he would have rolled his eyes if he had them. Walking to the kitchen and grabbing the things yourself wasn't that hard and using magic did nothing but needlessly exhaust you.

"No thanks." He said to the wizard. "I can't drink at the moment. Or eat for that matter."
 
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RedLeftHand36

Aspiring Lich
How many times has it been said, a phrase dividing two types of people in the world? Too oft, one would suppose. Of course, Aldous wasn't prone to such broad limitations, but the idea occasionally struck a chord of sorts. This was one of those situations to arouse such concepts in the back of his mind, for various reasons. Duality was a concept Aldous was particularly familiar with, something he often saw within each and every circumstance, sometimes to a point of aware over-analysis. Honestly, it occasionally gave him a headache.

Following the others up into the guild-house, Aldous took his time meandering up the stairs behind the rest, lightly brushing his thinly gloved hand upon the mossy wood, allowing the small and lovely little creatures to scurry about upon him. He could feel the grain and moss and bark beneath the fine and delicate layer of black leather. It was rather peaceful, wasn't it? Yes, he quite liked this place already. Perhaps he would be more comfortable here than he initially presumed when he had received the letter. Aldous continued forth into the structure, little creatures still scurrying about upon his hands, leaning under the webbing left within the open heights of the doorway. It wasn't too surprising to see the inside of the building seemingly enchanted or whatnot (lest the designer of this wooden architecture was simply very good at manipulating perspectives), though he would be remiss to think it was not rather congenial. Comfy, even. The decor was a bit bland for his taste, however. But to be fair, he had little interest in most material possessions. Sure, maybe there would be some clever device or craft to pique his interest, but Aldous preferred books and tomes. Grimoires and Black Books and the like particularly were appreciated. But it never stopped him from admiring and appreciating the tools of the trade, particularly those that delved into the darker arts of the arcane. Merely his preference, however, more of a stylistic choice more than anything, he supposed, stemming from his associations with those seen as unsightly. It was ironic to him that such interests in the taboo and seemingly abominable aspects of existence were met with some of the most loathsome of human traits despite merely abnormal or uncharismatic in nature and nothing else; like those who would stomp upon harmless insects simply out of disgust. This contempt of such an aspect found in so many, spawning such passion for the unloved, spawning such interest in the macabre, spawning such longing for a world where the dark was lovely and beautiful. It was funny, Aldous thought to himself, that all these thoughts should come running through his mind purely out of the noting of a cordial set of trinkets lacking any personal interests of his own. Selfish on his part, really. Pompous, to an extant, even. But he'd rather focus on the matter at hand as opposed to fall into his old habits. The city of Chronus was long in the past, now.

Aldous knew very well to reserve his judgement of people, and though he had a knack for quickly figuring others out, he always enjoyed finding aspects in people he could respect. The initial response of the northern girl seemed particularly rash and foolhardy, despite understanding the logic of it, but he certainly appreciated the to-the-point attitude in questioning the summons. Eira, her name was. The owl Eae. Best to scratch all the names into his head. He had a habit of forgetting names due to his very much temporary nature with nearly all relationships. But in the sense of being part of a guild, he supposed it would be prudent to ensure he memorized such things. Escan. A medic. Very likely a different sort of medicine in congruency with his own specializations. It seemed fairly easy to see the half-elf was far and above all the rest in terms of the purity of his soul. Fragile, maybe, but certainly tolerable to a higher degree than many others. Zyk. Yet another with a flair for dramatic fashion, it seemed. It was like looking into the mirror of the strange-humoured Fates, almost, contrasting colour schemes aside. Masks tended to do more than merely be fashion statements. His curious nature pondered what physical and mental scars such a joyous mask was meant to disguise. And of course, the guild-master himself. Yet to be named out loud, for the moment being. Funnily enough the most human of them all. A man doing his job, a man with his experiences, and a man being a man. But he knew full well not to underestimate someone in his position with his years, not that there was anything inherently wrong with the previously noted statements. Aldous couldn't help but wonder how transparent he was to such a person. He wasn't here for a replacement to his dear old friend, but in his quest for knowledge, he was fairly sure the small man might have a few things to show them all indeed. He waved his hand in refusal at tea while attempting a subtle bow out of appreciation of the gesture as he went to sit down. He wasn't fond of taking his mask off. Yet another old habit, but one that remained stained in his mind.

He simply couldn't bear the idea of those looks from so long ago. He wasn't strong like that.
 

Tigerman1211

GAR for GARcher
Escan Galafey
Location: Barkbrew Guild Hall

The Guild master’s confirmation was in a way both assuring and discouraging. On one hand, he was glad that he had not accidentally stumbled in on some group of cultists or cannibals, yet the knowledge that these were the ones who he would be working with for the foreseeable future was troubling, frankly. He had somewhat naïvely expected this barkbrew place to be more well established than some clumsy old man in the woods and a group of strange initiates. Regardless, he was here now, so he might as well make the best of it. And besides, if this guildmaster was starting his own guild he must surely be either very wise or very powerful, so he still stood to learn much from this little endeavor.

The hasty introduction added to his growing apprehension, but he followed wordlessly behind the others, determined to better size them up as they proceeded into the guildhall. His assessment was cut short, however, when he entered the building. As the overwhelming herbal smell of tea washed over Escan, he marveled at the interior of the hall, particularly at the many mechanical and magical contraptions covering the walls. When the others went to sit down with the guild master, he hesitated, as he had not had enough time to fully examine the contraptions, before he sat down with the rest of them. He idly sipped his tea as he listened to his soon-to-be guildmates, hoping to get a better impression of them, but both Zyk and Aldous were nigh impossible to read given their masks and Eira’s frosty demeanor may as well have been a mask itself for all it gave up as she spoke to the guildmaster. She actually made a good point with her question, so he decided to chime in.

“I agree with the huntress, but i’m more worried that you apparently know who we are, yet none of us seem to know of you. Add that to the feeling that you seem to have something you want from us, and it makes me just a tad troubled about this whole thing, you know?
 
Chester was dissapointed at the refusal of tea, but somewhat energized by the interest in his motives. He was glad of the recruits apparent ability to think for themselves, something that seemed to be lacking these days. The crow appeared from behind his neck onto his shoulder, seamlessly manifesting itself onto the venerable wizard. It stared menacingly at the party of misfits.
"That is certainly a good question Eira"
Clearly a woman of purpose, as she didn't ask his name before asking for exposition.
"I am Chester Squaggleskirt, the last druid of Sproutholm and you have all been contacted for this guild based on your skills and experiences" He eyed Escan. Of course, he wasn't exactly the last druid, but that detail was effectively inconsequential for this venture. He was suprised that four people managed to find the guild. He continued to the medic's question.
"All I want is your good spirits and your ability, of which both seem in quantity" Forcing a friendly atmosphere was never his strong suit, if the targets were not furry or feathered. He continued.
"I assume you're not exactly aware of it, but the guild-market is effectively monopolized at the moment, meaning that there is an opening for a new, cheaper guild to make it's way into the market" His dead blue eyes shimmered slightly, alike the shimmer of a polished coin seizing the opportunity to find complementary companions.
"The idea," he said, trying to sound as convincing as an old man with a green, droopy wizard-hat could possibly sound.
"Is that you, capable mages, will complete quests at a cheaper rate than others, namely the guilds Tachyon and Halock. Ultimately, our friendly behaviour and effectiveness..." He paused and looked at his companions. He concluded that effective people were rarely very friendly and that he had been an idiot to think the traits would go hand in hand.
"Will lead us to success, that will be greater than that of the big, greedy, corporate overlords*, and ultimately profit" He announced confidently. He was hoping the profit could eventually pay off the gimmicky wall decorations.
"Obviously lots of experience will come with the job and pay, soon enough. I assume your interest is retained?" He looked much more successful than he sounded.


*Corporate overlords, a term that had recently entered the political circle of Sproutholm with the help of a little bribing. No one was exactly aware what meaning it entailed.
 

Florida_Man16

Honey, where's my alligator?
Eira the Huntress
Ability/Type: Ice Magic/Innate
Location: Guildhouse
Interaction: @BlackoutThieving

Eira supposed that was a fair response to her question, although not an ideal one. Her realm was not that of politics and cost-benefit analysis, but of what one needed to do in order to survive. She hunted bears, not nobles. She did, however, understand enough to know, or at least think she knew, that the goal was to corner the market by losing money. It was not an acceptable answer, especially when it was almost a month after her last opportunity to trade for the money she needed to survive, and was a month away from her normal hunting grounds.

"Are you telling me that I came halfway across the world in order to go broke for you?", she asked. Eae spread his wings and hissed at Chester's bird. Inside the building, a confined space, Eae felt confident in his chances should the ill-appearing crow choose to attack.

Eira, on the other hand, stood from the table and paces the immediate few feet around her. "A hungry wolf hunts best, but the pack travels on its stomach. If you intend that we should function for less payment with greater performance, then your expectations are a bit unrealistic, are they not?"
 

RedLeftHand36

Aspiring Lich
Aldous reached out a hand, at first, seemingly at this Chester fellow, at first, but ultimately ended up gently caressing the plumage upon the manifested corvid's head. And then, Aldous broke his own silence with his deep, quiet, and gravelly voice.

"I believe it would be advisable, perhaps, to at least give us confirmation that there is a good reason why we are here beyond such a trivial idea of being a generic brand of footmen and maids. Whilst I could not care less about coin, I doubt many people would take such financial chances with a seemingly pointless scheme. You needn't tell us of your greater plans, if you have any, until you're ready, but we require reassurance that we are doing something worth our time and efforts."

He was not here for coin, as he had stated, but if this truly was all there was to it, there was practically nothing to be gained here. What Aldous sought was not something that could merely be bought with the allowance of a serf. And he already traveled abroad plenty doing what tasks he could for a valid sum of reward. All he could do here was hope that there was something not being said, but he needed confirmation.
 

Aravini

Heck
Jimmy the Jester.jpg


Zyk The jester
Located at: Guildhouse of Barkbrew
Talking to: @BlackoutThieving


Zyk was intrigued by the old man's proposition. It seemed they were being treated like children who would do his jobs and biddings out of the goodness of their heart, but his plan was certainly unique.

The savage and the doctor brought valid points regarding payment, it seemed all of them were in unspoken agreement about that, however they forget one tiny detail.

"How exactly are we, a small guild in a middle of nowhere, going to surpass, in your own words, 'big, greedy, corporate overlords' It's not an easy obstacle to overcome. I understand that you have planned this out since you were able to somehow track us down so effectively but I don't know if we're exactly the right candidate for the job. That girl is a savage, no sane man would wear all that black, that boy looks like he couldn't even throw a punch and I...well I'm a jester, and everyone loves jesters so I'm not much of a problem. Overall, this plan of yours is fullish. But I would be lying to myself if I wasn't intrigued."

The old cook's plan risky but have some merit. Perhaps Zyk should stick around just to see where it goes.
 
Chester smiled. Cornn was twitched but didn't escalate further.

"You seem to vastly underestimate the pay that goes for defiling monsters and other such abominations Eira, not unusual for someone from the faraway, cold wilderlands, who's capable of taking down giants, and I assure you Aldous that you are not footmen. People in Sproutholm like being busy-bees and the luxuries that come with it, enough to go to great lengths to ensure their own stability. Even at a low rate, you'd easily be paid more than double than your average man, and quadruple your average goblin. The price of putting one's life on the line these days is higher than it has ever been, especially within the city walls. That said, you should not romanticize the idea of adventuring, as not every fight will be against a dragon and rewarded with a demense."

He went on.

"I picked the lot of you for your ability to do good, not your willingness to. We will prove to be ultimately effective for the city at hand, and end up in riches, if we complete and of the major catastrophes that tend to be the norm. You all have much more potential than your average mage, something that will prove itself, should you comply with my request to join this guild." He said.

He mumbled something and the table cleared itself, the tea-supplies hovering into a kitchen closet before it slammed shut. He mumbled again while pointing his finger at a dusty roll of paper, which then hovered onto the table before rolling itself out. It revealed a list of what appeared to be a list of tasks.

'Monster - Elder Frank - The Freestead Church - Rank C'

'Monster - Sharon A. Tumblesburg - Chardonnay Ride, 12 - Ranck C'

'Investigate - John Longman - Longman Foods, down Stokeley st. - Rank D'


"Our first goal will be to complete gain state-backing, for which we have to complete three quests and get rated Extraordinary by the questgivers, and apply for an interstate license, so that we can take quests outside of Sproutholm without any financial penalties. Once we do that we'll be able to compete with at least Halock in terms of how widespread we can be, and we might be able to buy stables, further increasing our mobility. At that point we will probably have grown in numbers as well." He explained.

"Do I have your attention?" He asked, before sitting down into a chair at the table, satisfied.
 

Florida_Man16

Honey, where's my alligator?
Eira the Huntress
Ability/Type: Ice Magic/Innate
Location: Guildhouse
Interaction: @BlackoutThieving @Aravini

Upon being called a savage, the immediate area between Eira and Zyk dropped at least ten degrees. "If it is a swift death you want, I'll be happy to make it happen," a little bit of frost creeping across her bow around her hands. "Even the rudest weasel deserves a clean one."

She seemed like she was prepared to deliver on that threat, even though her quiver was several paces away and she wasn't within stabbing distance. But her owl disagreed with the notion, and cuffed her with his wing, drawing her attention back to Chester in time to hear him say she was capable of killing a giant.

"I don't hunt giants, there is no market for their parts. I hunt bears, boars, and wolves, I trade for what I need, not for money. But you have dragged me on a wild mission across the land for a venture you can't guarantee in a land where shooting the wrong deer will have me in prison until the gods die of old age, do you understand how much you are forcing me to rely on the miniscule odds of success, old man?"

She snatched up the D-class parchment, assuming that the least vibrant seal was the easiest task. "So, since you've forced me to be reliant on your money and contracts, who wants to read whatever this is to me?" For all her talents as a hunter and tracker, Eira couldn't read Common. The village she hailed from had little use for books when virtually everything else was more of a necessity, only the chief, shamans, and a select few who navigated trading contracts could, and even after leaving the village she had never remained in one place long enough to have an opportunity to learn. Why would she? A word isn't going to stop a charging bear or halt the snowstorm so she could see what she was skinning. A useless skill was a skill to avoid.
 

RedLeftHand36

Aspiring Lich
Aldous had to admit, he was a bit let down by Zyk's awfully judgmental attitude, but, he admitted to himself, it was not entirely surprising. And yet he couldn't help himself but to put himself between the jester and the white haired girl. He glared at Zyk for a moment, but otherwise ignored him before looking to the parchment Eira held. Aldous spoke again, though his voice was slightly muffled, it remained as clear as a foghorn and as low as thunder in the distance. "It's for an investigative mission. No worries, I'll teach you when we have the time, if you'd like."

Aldous turned to face Chester.

"It seems I'll be participating no less, for the sake of the others," he said somewhat quietly to Chester.

Aldous gently moved his thumb on his hand. It seemed there was a little friend enjoying his company still: A small centipede. It seemed only appropriate. He wondered if the others would think of him as looking down upon them, as most would to a creature such as this. But, maybe, they wouldn't. He could not predict the future. Only make educated guesses.
 

Aravini

Heck
Jimmy the Jester.jpg

Zyk The jester
Located at: Guildhouse of Barkbrew
Talking to: @BlackoutThieving

It seemed both the savage and the man of darkness was offended by his comment. The former went up to him, threatening to kill him and by the way she looked at him, she seemed ready to deliver her promise. Zyk held his staff, ready to strike, but it seemed her little pet nudged her to stop, opting to focus to one of the sets of tasks on the table. The other simply gave him a look as he blocked between him and the girl during their confrontation.

Such claimed adventurers shouldn't be offended by rude comments, He thought, especially a comment from a jester, otherwise comedy would cease to exist.

He leaned close to the girl, looking at the task she had picked.

"Good choice hunter, or whatever you wanted to be called. A simple investigation mission would do well for a small guild like us."

He looked to the wizard. "Please tell me this won't be too far off from here though, walking all the way was very tiresome.
 

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