A Soldier's Life

Chapter 70: Adventurer’s Guild

Chapter 70

When I entered the Adventurer’s Guild, I was the focus of attention again. There was a pause in conversation as distrustful eyes focused on the lone legionnaire. Guildmaster Icarus stood and approached me, “Legionnaire, is there something else I can help you with?”

“I was wondering if you have a tablet reader I can rent? In private?” I asked, hopefully. The man considered my request by looking me up and down, judging me.

“We do have a tablet, but only members can use it. The cost is a silver for attributes and ten silver for affinities. But you need to be a guild member to rent them,” he answered. That was much less than the gold I had paid in the city of Varvao.

“Are they private?” I asked again.

“Yes, the room is spelled to avoid scrying,” he said, nodding, and I could tell his patience was wearing thin.

“Excellent. I would like to get a membership then and rent both tablets,” I replied.

His eyebrows showed surprise. Icarus considered me again before calling to a table behind him, “Desdemona, come help this young legionnaire register with the guild.”

A short woman who had been playing something that looked like Go stood and came over. She was close to my age but had a weathered face and dark tan from long hours outside. “This way, legionnaire. We can use my father’s office.” I followed her down a hallway; her sun-bleached hair smelled like the sea. We entered an orderly office except for the desk with a dozen folders and papers everywhere. She just shuffled everything off to the side and found a parchment sheet she was looking for in the pile.

“Eryk Marko,” I said, sitting across from her.

“Have you ever registered with the Guild under a different name?” was her next question.

“No, this is my first time,” I said.

“Okay, the next ten questions are optional, but…” she started to ask.

“I will just skip them then. I just want to use the tablets,” I admitted. She looked at me, annoyed. She put down the quill and eyed me hard.

“Fine. Twenty-five silver to register with the Guild and eleven more silver for both the tablets.” She muttered, annoyed having to deal with me. I reached inside my chest piece, pulled a gold coin into my hand, and placed it on the table.

She stood up, swept the coin, and took the paper that just had my name on it. “Wait here legionnaire.” She left in a huff. She either did not like me, men, or legionaries in general.

It was a good hour before she returned with a circular brass medallion. My name was clearly stamped on one side, and on the back was the symbol of the Guild, a globe with a tree in the center of it with numerous branches and detailed leaves. Desdemona tapped it while placing a stack of silver on the desk for my change, “That is your guild emblem. It has your name and number.” I turned it over and noted my number, 13-393919, below my name.

I grabbed the sixty-four coins on the desk. I assumed she gave me 64 single coins instead of six large and four small to try and be a nuisance because she did not like me. I noted a hole in the token, “There is a hole in the top. Do I wear it around my neck?” I asked.

Desdemona tossed me a leather strip from the desk to make a necklace, “Follow me, and I can activate your tablets for you.”

Before standing and leaving the office, I slowly tied the leather cord to the medallion to irritate. I then asked, “Is there any significance to the number 13-393919?”

The impatient woman barked, “The first number is the Guild Hall you joined in. This is Guild Hall thirteen,” she paused, “The original Guild Hall was on the banks of the river, but we relocated here. The second number indicates what your membership number is at this hall. But we only started tracking membership about a thousand years ago.”

I followed the short woman out, and she was maybe five-foot-two with a muscled hourglass figure. I was a little upset by her attitude. I removed my helm and followed her to a small closet. The tablet was the size of a desk, dominating the tiny room. It was not the handheld one I was accustomed to, and it looked weathered and ancient. Desdemona sat on the other side of the table. I asked, “I thought this was a private reading?”

“Do you have aether and the control to activate the tablet?” her eyebrows challenged. She was way too smug to be likable.

“I do,” I said, trying to figure out the tablet. It had everything on this one tablet, all attributes and all affinities. I figured it out after a few moments of studying it. It made sense that I needed to channel my aether while pressing both my hands into the indentations resembling hands. Desdemona had not left yet. I asked, “Where is the reset so I can erase my results?”

She stood and started walking toward the door. She tapped the corner of the tablet as she passed, “Channel aether here, legionnaire. It will reset and blank the tablet.”

When the door closed, I locked it from the inside. I stood before the tablet and produced the strength essence from my dimensional space. I would get a reading. Reset the tablet and get a reading again. I placed my hands and channeled my aether. My scores appeared on the tablet, and I consumed the strength essence. Before resetting the tablet, I studied my improvements with the essence worked on my body.

My eyes immediately went to the affinities, and I now had an earth affinity of six. That seemed a little bit of an extreme gain from zero with one apex essence. Next, I confirmed my healing affinity had also increased, up to twenty-three. This improvement was what allowed me to imprint the self-healing spell form.

My physical, mental, and magical attributes had gained as well over the last two weeks. I had consumed a fair amount of essences and even now felt the strength essence doing its work. Hopefully, the strength essence would settle before I was disturbed. The last time I did a tablet reading in a city, I was rushed out. When I felt the essence had settled after about ten minutes, I reset the tablet and activated it again.

My actual strength had increased by two points and my potential by another point. This was amazing for a major essence. I confirmed that was the only change and reset the tablet and reset it again. I only felt mildly stronger, but the changes were still ongoing, with my muscles feeling hot and emitting heat like I had a fever. Soon, the essence was spent, though, that I was sure of. My goal for the rest of the day was to find somewhere to get the amulet identified anonymously.

I unbarred the door to find Desdemona in the hallway waiting. “Wait,” she ordered as she went inside to make sure I did not steal or damage anything. She was being awful thorough, checking the tablet and under the table like she did not trust me.

As she confirmed the tablet still worked, I asked, “What else do I get for my membership?”

Desdemona paused and thought about being abrasive but exhaled and talked cordially, “You can rent a room or bunk in any Adventurer’s Hall. You have access to the job posting boards in the Halls, and you also can enter the dungeons we monitor.” She finished her inspection, “Also, you get discounts on services like equipment, food, drink, and use the tablets.” She studied me like I was not the enemy now.

“Nice tan,” I offered a compliment that was usually well received in my past life.

She gave me a hard look, and then chortled a laugh, “Windburn and cooked is more like it from days spent on deck.”

“Deck? Like a ship?” I asked.

“What else has a deck, legionnaire,” she said, mocking me but with a slight smile. Maybe she was warming up to me.

I ignored the retort. With a good-natured smile, I replied, “Where can I purchase artificed items and potions in the city?”

She gave me a strange look, “Here, legionarie. The Imperial Alchemists also have a shop near the palace, but our prices are half theirs, and the product is probably better. Most artificed objects need to be ordered and shipped in. It takes about a month. The Telhians purchase anything we stock besides potions.” She guessed at my intentions, “You got some gold and thought you would spend it?” She had seen me get my reward for finding the dungeon.

“Exactly! Where is your potion shop?” She waved me to follow, and I did. We were soon in a side room that reminded me of the Legion Hall equipment rooms. Except this one smelled strongly of worked leather and weapon oil.

A short man was behind the counter, and I blurted, “Are you a dwarf?”

He huffed, “Halfling legionnaire. Dwarves are not welcome in the Telhian Empire. Halflings are tolerated.” He ignored me and looked at Desdemona, “Why is the Legion Boy here?”

“He joined the Guild, paid, and given his bronze,” Desdemona smirked, and the halfling looked resigned to help.

“Name is Tarvon Fogbough. I run the Guild warehouse in Telha,” he held out his small hand, and my hand engulfed his forearm as we shook wrists. At least the man was polite now that he know a was a member.

“Eryk Marko. Please to meet you, Tarvon. I am looking for some potions to help me sleep without dreaming,” I asked. Tarvon looked at Desdemona, who rolled her eyes and left us to do business in private.

“I have a honey-slumber drought.” He pulled a blue liquid vial from under the counter. “This does not remove dreams but makes them pleasant. Ten silver a dose. Then I have oblivion pills.” He pulled a jar of red marbles out, “These will knock you out for about six hours, no dreaming, just peaceful rest.”

“How much are the pills?” I asked as the jar had dozens of marble-sized pills.

“Guild rate is a silver a piece,” Tarvon said, tapping the jar.

“How do they work? I mean, can I wake up if there is danger?” I asked.

“It is just a deep sleep. Someone could wake you, but most likely, you are not going to wake on your own. If you took two pills, you would be out for a good eight hours, and no one is going to wake you without some magical help. Three pills could kill you, and it would definitely kill me.” He was very patient, explaining.

I pulled out a gold coin and placed it on the counter, “I will take one hundred.”

As Tarvon counted out the pills, he said, “If you are having this much trouble with nightmares, you might want an artificed dreamcatcher nightcap to do the same thing or see a Guild Mage to purge whatever memories are causing them.”

“I will try this first,” I said, taking the glass jar.

“I advise against using them out in the wild, legionnaire. The last thing you want is to have to take time to come to your senses when a gnoll hunting party finds your company’s camp at night,” Tarvon advised. I nodded at the wisdom but had been thinking the same thing. “Do you want any healing potions? Stamina potions?”

“How much are they? And maybe a cure disease if you have it,” I asked the halfling. He stepped off his platform and went in the back to retrieve a few racks of potions.

“I have six cure diseases here. I want to note they do not work on magical diseases,” he made eye contact to confirm I heard him. “They are ten gold each, which is a great deal as the Imperials charge twenty-five for theirs. Except these two on the end are a week from expiration. Just a gold each for those.”

He shuffled the racks, “For healing…Desdemona just brought in a fresh shipment of potions. I have a healing ointment, lesser healing, and greater healing. The ointment will close wounds, the lesser potions can heal soft tissue and mend bone, and the greater healing can align and mend bones and generally heal just about anything except poison and disease.” He motioned to the cure disease potions I was interested in.

“Do you have any of the healing ointments or potions near expiration at a discount?” I asked interested.

Tarvon started reading the dates and moved the potions about in the racks, “Six ointments, half off, as they just have a few days left. Fifty silver each. Fresh vials are one gold, the same as the Imperial alchemists. But the lesser healing potions are four gold, one gold less than the Imperials,” he beamed a white smile at me. “I do not have any lesser or greater healing potions getting close to expiration. Greater healing is forty gold,” he held up his hand to stop me, “Imperials sell them for fifty, so it is a great deal.”

“Why don’t you store them in a dimensional space?” I asked the halfling.

“If only we had someone at the Guild Hall with one! Most of the adventurers avoid the Telhian Empire like a plague. They do not treat us well no matter what the treaty states,” Tarvon said, and his tone told me I was getting him upset since I was a legionnaire.

“I will take all the expiring stock. The two cure disease and six ointments. Also, four lesser healing,” I placed twenty-one gold coins on the counter. He put the vials in one rack and pushed it toward me.

After the death dog scare, I was happy to have the cure disease potions. The healing ointment was good to have if I was close to running out of aether or needed to close a companion’s wounds. Sixteen gold for the four lesser healing potions was insurance if I was out of aether or had a companion in need.

I felt I had established a good rapport with Tarvon, so I asked, “Do you know where they identify dungeon artifacts in the city?”

“I can do it here. Just a gold, and it is private,” he eyed me curiously. I had overlooked that the Adventurer’s Guild monitored the dungeons, so it made sense they could identify dungeon objects.

I debated, but this seemed like my best chance to find out what the amulet did without experimenting on it myself, “Okay, I have something I wish to have identified.”

Tarvon’s eyes went up in happy surprise, and I slid him a gold. He took it and said, “Follow me,” he hopped off his platform behind the counter and went to a door. With his back turned and no one else around, I sent my jar of oblivion pills and the potion rack I had purchased into my dimensional space.

The small man’s office was half orderly and half a mess, “Forgive the smell. I have to send all the expired potions and broken vials we do not sell back to the central Guild Hall.” It was not an unpleasant smell. Like rotting vegetables with a strong hint of cloves. He closed the door and sat on his desk chair. “Let me see it then.”

I reached into my armor, pulled the amulet into my hand, and handed it to him. He turned it in his hand, “Definitely a dungeon artificed device. I think I may know what it is, but you paid for the full service.” He pulled out a parchment with the runic script and placed the amulet on it in front of him. The runic script started to glow a blue-white light that was aether working through the runes. Travon’s eyes reflected the blue light as he studied the scroll as it worked. When the light faded, he looked up smiling, “Well, Eryk, this is quite the intriguing artifact you have here.”