Erik cleared his throat and gave a deep bow.
“You won’t regret this, Rook, I swear it by my oath.”
“Good, you’re coming with us,” Rook answered.
Erik’s face dropped again. “Wait, I’m just an initiate, a beginning fighter, I would only get in the way,” he said, letting out a sad sigh. “Who else is in your party?” He asked, looking from one to the other.
“Reina’s a bronze-ranked enhancer, Sentinel Jody won’t help unless we are about to die,” Rook said, thinking of the sellifar. A long, awkward moment passed through the three. Rook frowned, then shrugged his shoulders. “I told you, this is a beginning party.”
“You just said you didn’t fight, not that your whole party is a copper and bronze rank,” he said, a look of disappointment passing over his face. “It can’t be helped. You already accepted the quest, and I’m a man of my word.”
“Thanks for the confidence, Erik. We’re getting off to a great start,” Reina said.
A low grumble sounded off behind Rook, and he turned to see Erik rubbing at his stomach. “Hungry?” Rook asked, aware of his own notification at the corner of his vision.
“Yes, however, we on the path of the Old Gods must wait until we are at our pilgrimage locations to eat.”
Rook nodded, who am I to ask about his weird oath. “I hope you don’t mind, but I am going to eat. My stomach feels like it’s turning in on itself after last night’s mission.”
He looked at Reina. “My lady I am Erik Lyones “I am an initiate monk of the order of the Old Gods, set on a mission to male pilgrimage to the temples of All Power.”
Reina was taken aback, then frowned at the man. “Save it. I’ve heard it all before. If the recruiting line is in the God Maker’s System, then it’s been used on the councilman’s daughter for support.”
Erik grew a shade of white at Reina’s father’s title. “Councilman?” He asked sheepishly. “I meant no offense.” He gave her a slight bow.
Rook led the group down to the staircase into Brianna’s familiar tavern that became a makeshift adventurers’ guild by day and rowdy nightclub by night.
Brianna greeted them with her hair held back by a hairband. She swiped away stray strands with the back of a greasy-looking hand. She busied herself with taking orders and helping to wait on tables, just like yesterday. She was passing parchments out with the orders on her trays.
Reina let out a long sigh and jotted something down in her journal. “I finished my notes from the mission, Rook. Did you want to see?” She asked, slightly shy.
“Of course,” he responded, taking the journal. “Holy crap, the detail in this is amazing, Reina.”
“This place is busier than usual,” Reina remarked, absentmindedly looking around the crowded room.
“I’ll be right back,” Jody said, disappearing within the crowd.”
The tavern space was filled to capacity, it seemed, throngs of different men and women dressed in adventurers’ gear gathered around the bulletin board while the others gathered around a small podium set near the bar where the musicians’ corner stood.
There were cliques amongst the crowd, each group wearing tabards over their armor. Rook nudged Reina with his elbow. “What’s the story with all these groups?”
She looked at them. “Most are from different adventuring guilds throughout Yorthon. Some mercenaries, others legitimate factions. Since Ollar is the trading capital, they journey here for the quest auctions.” She pointed to different tabards. “The burning candle symbol is the Night Wicks, pyromancers, and fire-based fighters.
“All Power, this place is busy.” Erik drummed his fingers on the table. “A lot of strong fighters here.”
“Regretting your choice?” Rook asked, slightly annoyed.
“Eh? Of course not.”
“Good, I plan to see it through. No matter how difficult.” Rook said, thinking of the Army’s warrior ethos of always placing the mission first. Much as he hated to admit it, he was institutionalized to follow it.
“This has to be a quest auction,” Reina said, waving down Brianna. “Every now and again, there’s a high-level quest that comes in from the adventurers’ guild. But there usually isn’t ever this many people.” She pointed at the podium. “If the Empire’s Legion fails to kill a beast or complete a quest, they give it to the guilds.”
“What can they do that the Army can’t?”
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“You’d think that they’d put the best and brightest into the Legion, but that’s just not the case. Anyone strong enough to make it on their own will join guilds as opposed to the Legion. Many of the adventurers hold gold ranks, and there are even a few diamonds running around.” She pointed towards the crowd. “As for this, a representative of the guild comes and opens it to the public, resulting in a quest auction.”
“Aye, that’s a good explanation for it. Why kill a beast for meager change when you can do it for big coin?” Jody asked, sitting down at the table beside Erik.
Brianna walked over a few moments later with a tray of mugs, water, and rolls. “For some of my high-paying customers. The ale comes from Wink’s special brew, and it’ll put you on your ass if you’re not careful.” She handed out the mugs.
“I think I’ll be fine, thank you very much.” Jody tipped back the mug and downed a good portion. With a satisfied smirk, he wiped the foamy head from his beard and burped.
Reina looked slightly annoyed with the lack of manners, but took a mug and sipped on it.
“Thank you,” Rook said, giving the drink an anticipatory glance. “Do you drink, Erik?”
“There’s nothing against it in the Old God Tenants, and honestly, a little ale sounds nice about now.”
“It’s from Wink, so go easy. He’s been a Brewster since before I was born.” Reina took a sip from her water and slid the ale over to Rook.
He looked down at the foamy brew with a sense of contentment. Beer for breakfast, not a bad way to start the day.
The doors to the tavern burst open, and the raucous noise in the tavern settled into silent murmurs. A man stood tall, broad-shouldered and serious, his slicked-back silver hair gave him the appearance of royalty, and he held himself like a noble lord. Walked in with Phane. Following close behind them were four imposing figures. The familiar presence of Jensen made Rook smile; the man was a natural leader.
The hushed tones rose to a frantic level, all repeating the same thing. “Sentinels.”
As Jensen passed, he smiled widely at Jody, clapping him on the shoulder; then he nodded at Rook and Reina. “Candidates.”
“Commander,” Rook responded with a nod.
The Sentinel Commander’s shaved head and long goatee gave him a tough look. Rook realized that Erik was staring at them, dumbfounded, gazing back and forth between Jensen Heck, the current leader of the Sentinels, and the beginner candidates.
“You didn’t tell me you all knew the Sentinel Commander,” Erik said, looking around the table.
“Didn’t you know that Jody was a Sergeant? And there stationed out here, so Commander Jensen oversaw our candidate briefing,” Reina said.
Erik swallowed hard and shook his head no.
Jensen rested his hand on the hilt of a curved blade. His piercing green eyes regarded the room with an even, almost dangerous level of confidence. The Torokin following behind was a massive being. He turned his head sideways as he walked into the tavern, so his wide horns wouldn’t scrape anything. He had to squeeze his fur-covered arms together in front of him to weave through the crowd. He paused temporarily to set down a large mace the size of a watermelon.
“His muscles are the size of my head,” Reina said, watching the torokin follow tall, dark, and dangerous. Behind them was a gnome dressed in what looked like layers of black cloaks. His hood covered the upper portion of his face in shadow, while the bottom revealed a fiery red mustache and sly grin. He carried several belts of daggers and a crossbow on his back.
“It’s Earth Splinter and Koraxe.” Rook was able to pick out the whispers of the table next to him. The last one to walk in was a female wearing an open-faced cowl; she looked different somehow, but familiar at the same time. She had piercing blue eyes, bright as a glacier, and the sharp cheekbones of a photoshopped model. She looked Uldannish, but he couldn’t be sure with the cowl she wore. On her back were three short spears, and on her hip hung several metal balls. He ignored the vulgar mutterings from a Dwarf within earshot.
They were an impressive bunch to say the least, a cut above the rest of the rabble here. Rook gazed over at the Dwarf and Gnome scoundrels, and even they were pressed into the people behind them like the rest of the crowd. The Sentinels gave polite nods to Jody, and he raised a mug to them.
“Good people of Ollar.” The noble-looking man raised his hands towards the crowd as he stepped behind the podium. “Welcome to the quest auction. “I am but a humble vice guild master to the adventurers’ guild, Westley Voll.”
The sentinels spread out among the crowd. Rook nodded in approval, thinking back to his security details. The idea was to have each warrior sit in a strategic place in case there was a threat within the crowd, and promote a quick reaction time. Behind him, Korthax leaned up against a support beam. Rook grabbed the vacant mug of ale and offered it to the gnome. The man in black winked and graciously accepted with a short bow.
“Jody, it’s great to see you,” Koraxe said, clapping the Dwarf on the shoulder.
“Aye, you too, you short bastard.”
They both laughed and clicked their mugs together.
“Alright, you fine people. Here’s the situation.” Westley called out while nodding at Jensen. “My humble associate, as you may know, is Jensen Heck, current Commander of the Sentinels.”
Jensen regarded the room with those same cold eyes and retrieved a long, rolled parchment from a travel pack Earth-splinter carried.
“This is a map of the Runith’ka.” He paused to gaze reverently at the paper. “The dead city.”
Several audible gasps sounded off throughout the room. Including Jody, who sucked in a breath.
“Quiet down,” Earth-Splinter hissed through pressed teeth, with a voice much higher in pitch than made sense for a being so big.
“Thank you, my friend.” The vice guild master rotated a gold ring on his finger until it revealed a silver gem. Rook was mesmerized by the jewel. “Do you wish for treasure such as this Drakestone ring?”
Excited chatter rang out again in the tavern.”Drakestone,” Koraxe said with a chuckle. “He always does this.”
Rook looked at the gnome and smiled. He seemed likable enough, given his station.
“What if I told you that you could have Power and reputation like my Sentinel friends here?” He waved a hand across the room, pausing slightly to give attention to the Sentinels.
“How about you, sir Dwarf?” Westley tilted his head like a cat and gazed at a Dwarf adventurer carrying two wicked-looking axes on his belt.
“Me?” The Dwarf stroked his beard. “Aye, that sounds like a good deal.”
“And I thought so,” the man said, returning to his showmanship. He took a stick from inside his sleeve to point at a location. “Here resides the third guardian of Yorthon, Imoyor the Harpy Master.” He let the shock of what he said settle into the crowd, and he cleared his throat over the rising chatter and curses. “Before you lose your breakfast, we are not going after Imoyor, since it’s been in its deep hibernation. We are going after it’s harpy general, Bloodwing, he commands a small band of powerful harpys; those damned things have been targeting nearby settlements and the Legion didn’t stand a chance in Maker’s hell against them.” A rising chorus of displeasure towards the Legion. There’s a bounty of one thousand gold on the diamond-ranked beast.”
That word diamond, brought the mood down to the dusty floor. Mutters of disbelief at the rank rang out around Rook in hushed conversation. Westly tapped the map. “In addition, you will get three diamond-ranked skill books for your guild. All you must do is bring back Bloodwing’s head.” Westley smiled, letting his words sink in again. “Did I forget to mention, for every harpy slain, you will get a reward of two gold?” He walked behind the podium and opened a large green book. “Who will start the bidding at 10 gold?” There wasn’t a single offer.
You could hear a pin drop in the silent room. The dwarf from before crossed his arms and shook his head, catching the attention of the guild’s vice leader. He mumbled with another dwarf with fiery red hair, and a moment later, they stood up, turning towards the door.
Westley sighed and stepped in front once again. “Before any of you think that you can’t do it because of your race, think again. My friends, feast your eyes on my Sentinel guards.”
Jensen Heck nodded in response. “Sentinels, state your names!” The leader bellowed, silencing the room.

