“It's like they're made of smoke.” Chuffa the gnoll snarled, slamming his halberd into the flagstone floor, drawing looks of ire from Wilhelmina, Greeleena and Rudi alike.
The sun had only risen an hour before, but the [Dust Striker] had ridden in ahead of the main groups, sick of the wilderness and the fruitless search.
Marie peeked out from her office door, struggling to tidy her hair without a mirror, and to smooth her uniform and make it look as though she hadn’t spent another night asleep on her desk.
Two more adventurers walked into the guild, alongside the guildmaster. Chiritta and Brunalda may have been more composed than Chuffa, but even through the narrow gap in the door Marie could read the frustration in their gait. They were tense. Fists clenched.
Hoping the distraction would be enough, Marie patted her hair down a final time - just in case - gathered a couple of files and the Everfill Quill she'd bought, and stepped out into the guild hall with confidence.
“We've taken thirteen.” The squirrel-headed Chiritta said, tail twitching, to Guildmaster Thror. “We can't find more than four or five together at any one time, and they all seem to have strong escape Skills. We've only taken a few minor injuries, and only on some of the lower levels, but we've made so little progress for the time it's taken.”
“We could really use a dedicated [Scout].”
Brunalda’s bass tone drew everyone's attention to Marie, and she gave silent thanks that she'd sent Napoleon out to wait by the chairs before she'd left the room.
Anything to add to the deception.
She tried to keep her voice light and cheery.
“Hey there Brunalda, no luck catching those [Bandits] then?”
Thror narrowed his eyes as she angled over to them, but didn't say anything.
“Eldun thinks he has a potential location for their main camp, but we ran out of time. Gotta be here for the full moon…”
“Sorry to hear that. I might be able to help when you go back out, but I have been swamped here.”
“If we go back, we might just take you up on that.”
Marie tilted her head as she considered the dust-coated [Itinerant Monk].
“If?”
“Budget's run out. And that's with the lower cuts we were already taking. We've barely even found any loot, which means we definitely haven't found their camp, ‘cos from all the reports we know they've stolen a hefty chunk of goods and coin. It must all be in their main hideout.”
“Sorry to hear that. Can you not get an extension? More funds?”
At that, the adventurers turned to the guildmaster.
“I will speak to the council. We have not had reports of banditry since you left, so your efforts have at least curtailed their activity. It may be enough to let trade resume in the meantime.”
“We can come with you Sir to give our report in person, if that will help.”
Thror nodded to Brunalda - the only one present he had to lift his gaze to lock eyes with.
“That would be of use. Particularly with the new rates we will be asking for.” He shifted his focus to Marie for a moment and it was as if the temperature in the room dropped a few degrees. “Miss Marie here has done some excellent work for the guild. If only she were as diligent in other aspects of her life.”
The dark-furred tabaxi stepped next to her and leaned down, and spoke in a voice soft enough that only the two of them could hear.
“If you continue to treat my guild as a hostel, Miss Marie, I will start charging you for it. And even with the new rates you've implemented, I think you will struggle to afford my prices. Find a new place to sleep. Tonight.”
He stalked out of the guild without another word, leaving the adventurers to follow.
A giant hand clapped her on the shoulder and she half-staggered under its weight.
“Well if you're free this evening, or at least if you're alive, the rest should be back by dinnertime. There's been talk of The Grinning Broccsus and we'd love to catch up.”
Chuffa snorted, which came out more as a snuffle from his gnollish nose.
“More like Sirro and Eldun would love to strong-arm some more help.”
“In that case I will bring along Dusty too.”
Chiritta’s face brightened.
“That nut-head is still about? I thought she'd retired.”
“I will let her tell you all about it, later.” Marie said as the first of her applicants walked through the guild doors, and she waved goodbye to the three adventures until later.
It was finally time to find a new [Alchemist].
Hopefully.
—
Inside one of the many less-used rooms that stood off the main guild hall, Marie shuffled her papers and examined the man on the other side of the table to her.
Edric was around her age, and though he wasn't overweight, there was a plumpness to his cheeks and features that spoke to an easy life she wouldn't normally have associated with the populace of Wayfarrow.
He was also surrounded by an absolutely heavenly scent of fresh bread, and not just from the plate of buns he pushed over the table to her.
“I should let you know, Edric, that I will not accept bribes. This position will be granted based on merit.”
A gleaming smile flashed at her.
Do [Chefs] get Skills to influence people?
“Of course not, Marie. I simply wanted to demonstrate that I am capable of producing consumables of the finest taste.”
She relented and tried one. If anything it tasted even better than it smelt. She began the interview around the mouthful.
“Is that because you want to distract from the fact that your efforts with Perdy were entirely unpalatable?” She noted a genuine wince. “Even by his standards.”
“I did try. Really. And Mister Perdy said I made progress. It was just… harder than I thought it would be. My Skills didn't exactly work the way I thought they would when it came to potions.”
She looked down at the notes she had. It was true, what he said. Perdy had made a point of how much he'd improved in the course of the one session he'd had. Idly she wondered if the [Chef] had bribed his teacher with food too.
Still, despite the effort, he wasn't the best qualified on paper, even if he did manage to find a way to combine his existing culinary Skills to alchemy.
And that wasn't the main question he needed to answer.
“I have to say, I am surprised you would consider this position, Edric. By all accounts you are an excellent [Chef] - equal to any professional in my homeland - and whilst we aim to pay a fair wage, I am afraid that it would not match what you are currently earning.” She'd checked that out herself. “Can you tell me why you are considering such a drastic change?”
He had no poker face.
Even without [Sense Lie] she'd have known he was hiding something.
“I…uh… well, I just thought it was time for a change. Working in the kitchens is okay but the guild seems like a much more fun place to work. The money is not so important.”
She let the issue simmer a little longer.
“So, you would not like to work in the guild kitchens alongside making potions? We rely mostly on Greeleena here, and Wilhelmina was saying just the other day how she wished there was bette-”
“Oh I'd definitely love to work in the kitchens here. I mean, as well as brewing potions and stuff. What sort of facilities do you have? I've got Skills that could help. Was there something specific that, say, Wilhelmina was talking about?”
Marie waved her hand in a dismissive motion.
“Oh I would not worry about that. Wilhelmina is only here for a few more days before she starts her new job anyway.”
Edric’s mouth opened like a fish on the hook. For a few long moments he said nothing. Marie could almost see the cogs turning.
“Well, you know, I probably need to train up some more if I want to be a proper [Alchemist].”
“It could only help.”
“And I probably need to make sure I get the best wages so I can afford lessons.”
“Which I am afraid we cannot guarantee.”
“...do you know where Wilhelmina is going?”
“You can see yourself out, Mister Vance.”
—
The [Mage] was late, which was yet another mark against her application.
The only thing she had going in her favour was that she was the only one who had actually managed to gain the [Alchemist] class after working with Perdy.
Unfortunately she hadn't yet improved on the taste.
Choking, Marie put the cork back in the vial and drained the glass of fruit juice she'd prepared. Drifting Ember showed the first signs of consternation Marie had seen on the tabaxi.
“Well I was following his instructions so I don't know if you can expect much more yet. I read some books on it. I bet if I can play around with the recipe I can come up with something better. What sort of budget will I have?”
“We should not get ahead of ourselves, Miss Ember. I have some questions for you first. I understand that training to be a [Mage] is a slow and challenging process. How would you balance your studies and work at the guild?”
“Oh I’ll just make some potions in my spare time. Perdy left them to brew for hours so I’ll have plenty of opportunity to read.”
Marie frowned.
“If you intend to work for the guild, Miss Ember, you will need to fulfil the obligations of your contract. You may find it taking up more time than you imagine, though you will be paid for your efforts. And without meaning to insult his work, I am not sure that all of Perdy’s practices are the best, given the quality of the potions he produces. We require someone focused on producing palatable potions at the rate we require before they can attend to their other projects like Perdy does with brewing - or you with your [Mage] studies. Are you prepared to commit to that?”
Burning Ember ran her fingers through her hair. She lost focus for a moment as she seemed to be doing some mental calculations.
“...how many potions are you expecting?”
“We have a healthy store of ingredients, and we expect a steady supply to continue once they start being used. I understand that you are still learning so at the start we are expecting only a few potions a week, but ideally between a dozen and twenty per week as soon as possible. More if we can manage it.”
“What sort of commission are we looking at?”
“That would depend on the quality of the potions, and your commitment to the [Alchemist] class and any specific Skills you obtained. Until the basic standard is met though - no commission.”
Drifting Ember sighed and stood up.
“This all sounds like too much work. I’ll see myself out.”
—
The glass of water Marie sipped from had grown warm as the day had drawn on, and as the third candidate sat before her, Marie pushed it to the side and ignored the increasing dryness in her mouth.
The allagi opposite her waited, unconcerned.
Rowan wouldn’t confirm her age but Marie was certain she was in her early to mid-teens.
But that is normal in this place.
“Maser Perdy’s report on your session with him was not very positive.”
She waited for Rowan to say something, but the allagi just sat, staring at her.
“You did not in fact manage to produce a working healing potion.”
Silence.
“How do you intend to be the guild’s [Alchemist] if you are unable to make healing potions?”
The allagi finally blinked.
“Why do I have to be an [Alchemist]?”
“...well, that is the job we are advertising for.”
“I’m not an [Alchemist]. I don’t want to be an [Alchemist].”
“... so why have you applied?”
The young woman frowned. She had to look up to meet Marie’s gaze but there was nothing deferential in her attitude.
“Uncle Braer said the guild needed a healer, and that you were fair to allagi. He said I should try out.”
“Right. You do understand that you need to be able to heal people though?”
“Oh, of course. A [Hedge Witch] can make all kinds of poultices and tonics. I have ones to calm fevers and soothe inflammation and relieve migraines.”
“Ok. I think I understand you now. But we are looking for someone who can make a steady supply of healing potions. Is that something a [Hedge Witch] can do?”
Rowan frowned again.
Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
“I have a compress that can bind and heal wounds, and a tincture that promotes healing.”
“And how do they compare to Perdy’s healing potions?”
The faint but ever-present frown finally turned thoughtful.
“They don’t work as fast, but they are easier to make and I’m only level 14. They will get stronger as I gain more levels. They don’t cause potion fatigue either.”
Potion fatigue - a toxicity that builds up when too many potions are taken in quick succession.
Marie checked the notes and chart Perdy had written up for her. She hadn’t taken a potion herself before - not to heal an injury - and she’d had no idea what was a good measure of effectiveness.
“If there was an adventurer and their arm was laid bare to the bone by a sword, how quickly would your compress and tincture close the wound?”
The left side of Rowan’s face twisted in thought.
“For you…I think it would stop you from bleeding out quickly, but for the arm to be usable…maybe a few hours? Definitely less than a day.”
It was Marie’s turn to frown. Perdy’s potions would close such a wound in less than a minute, even if the bone had been cracked.
And on Earth it would take months to heal.
The magic of this world might have been tinging her view of things, but for an adventurer, every moment could make the difference between life and death.
“...you did not mention the taste of your treatments. How does that compare to Perdy’s?”
For the first time, the allagi woman smiled.
“Oh, excellently. I can definitely match that.”
“That is a positi- wait. Did you say you could match the taste of his potions?”
“Certainly.”
“You are aware that we are searching for more palatable options?”
A ripple of confusion passed over Rowan’s face.
“Why?”
“Because they are revolting.”
“All good medicine should taste vile.” Rowan spoke as though reciting great wisdom. “Otherwise people would take it all the time.”
“...would that be a bad thing?”
Rowan nodded seriously.
“If people rely on healing through external sources, their class will never award them healing Skills.”
Marie leaned forward.
“Really? I have not heard of that.”
She considered her own Skills. [Thick Skin]. [Lesser Toughness]. [Minor Elemental Resistance]. [Forager’s Constitution]. She’d not even heard of a healing potion when she’d been in Forcastera and she’d not been given any Skill that healed her…
Maybe it was something to research at the library.
But Rowan was nodding enthusiastically.
“My grandmother always said so, and everyone came to her to be cured. I make sure that mine are as bitter as can be.”
It wasn’t really what she was looking for, but Marie saw an opportunity for the young allagi. She’d been considering how to supplement the bandages in her starter kits to provide more medical care. And the previous two candidates weren’t viable.
Besides, she owed Braer.
“I think we might be able to come to some arrangement, Rowan. Thank you for coming in. I will be in touch.”
—
The boar-headed beastkin was the last candidate to sit down in the chair opposite her, and based on the initial session report, Marie didn’t have high hopes, even with some overlap from his existing classes he’d not produced anything of note.
“Thank you for giving me the chance, Miss Marie.”
“Not at all, Osric. Thank you for making time for the application process and this interview. I know you have a lot of work already.”
[Apothecary], [Shopkeeper] and [Herbalist]. He must be busy, or ineffectual.
He appeared somewhat on the shabby side. Tattered clothing. Unkempt hair. His fingers were dirty, though perhaps he’d just come from picking herbs.
“What do I need to do, Miss? I’ve not done one of these interviews before.”
Marie gave a reassuring smile. He was much older than she - in his mid thirties at least. More than twice as old as Rowan, but less than half as confident.
“I will ask you some questions, and you answer as best you can. If you have any questions for me, you may also ask them.”
“Okay. I understand. Ask away.”
“Excellent. How did you find your session with Perdy?”
Osric tried to smile but it came out more as a grimace.
“It was very difficult. I know some of the ideas, what with being an [Apothecary] and all, but alchemy is… I know what the herbs I use do, but Perdy had me boiling some up and mixing them with other things, and steeping them in all sorts of strange mixtures. Then when he got out some of the other ingredients I was very much out of my element. I tried though. Took lots of notes.”
Marie nodded encouragingly. That had been pointed out in the [Alchemist]’s feedback - Osric had been the only one to write anything down in the session. He’d come with his own parchment and quill.
“Do you think that was the best use of the opportunity you had? Perdy reported that you didn’t manage to make a potion - that you ran out of time.”
She could hear his foot scuffing the floor as he winced.
“I did. But I thought it would be better to make sure I remembered what he was telling me. I made progress! I tried on my own when I got home. I made this.”
He pulled a vial out of his pocket and rested it on the table, hands shaking so much she feared he’d knock it over and smash it.
A faint effervescent green liquid bubbled within.
“What is it?”
“It’s an extract of spearroot. One of the ingredients Perdy uses.”
Marie picked it up and examined it closer. It was cool to the touch.
“You have kept practicing?”
He shuffled in his chair.
“I may not be as quick as some of the others, Miss Marie, but when I start a job I finish it.” He pulled out a second vial, this one a pale red colour.
“Is that…”
“I took it to Perdy this morning. He said it was weak, but it does work.”
Hesitating, she took the cork off and gave a tentative sniff. It smelled of… almost nothing.
She raised an eyebrow in question and Osric nodded.
As she tipped the vial up a faint whiff accompanied it, but the taste as it hit her tongue was no worse than a slightly-off tea. The beastkin rushed to explain.
“It’s only a very basic version, but I tried to make it as palatable as I could. I didn’t have all the ingredients Perdy used so I had to substitute a few - hence why it’s not anywhere near as strong, but I got the key parts from him and it really does work.”
“So you gained the class?”
A pained expression crossed his face.
“Not…quite. I’ve been working on it since the lesson and I’m now a [Potion Maker]. Level 2. It’s not as good as an [Alchemist], but I did get [Rudimentary Extraction Efficiency] and [Remove Impurities]. Perdy says if I keep at it I’ll eventually get to [Alchemist].”
Marie nodded along with his explanation. Dedication was good, and the direction he was headed in was promising, but…
“We are hoping to produce a lot of these, Mister Bristleback, and at a potency suitable for Silver-ranked adventurers. Will you be able to meet the demand? You already have three other classes and a shop to run. Can you assure me that you will give this the time it needs, and grow quickly enough to supply what we need?”
Osric swallowed.
“I promise you I will try, Miss Marie. My wife is prepared to take over the running of the shop and my eldest can step in to help. I’ll be honest, we could really use the money. I know some of the basics of healing and I’ll do everything I can to pick up the rest if you can help me with studying or more practice with Perdy. Please give me a chance. I won’t let you down.”
—
Napoleon was dancing on the spot when she finally came out of the interview room for a very late lunch.
The undead hound wasn’t the only one to notice, and Greeleena sat down opposite her, Wilhelmina hovering with unconvincing nonchalance a few tables away, pretending to clean. It had been twenty minutes since the last candidate had left.
Marie said nothing of the decision she’d come to as she downed a glass of watered wine and shoved a still-warm roll of bread into her mouth. What with trying to sneak out of her office before Thror had arrived, the only breakfast she’d managed to get had been from Edric’s…
“Are these the rolls Edric brought in? How are they still so fresh and warm?”
Off in the background, Wilhelmina’s shoulders stiffened.
“It’s a Skill.” Greeleena said. “I don’t know what one, but they’ll be good until nightfall.”
Marie leaned back into the chair, eyes almost closed in pleasure.
“It’s a pity I’m not offering him the job.”
She heard more than saw Wilhelmina’s relief as she sighed and moved back over to the front desk.
Greeleena leaned in, waiting to hear who had passed the interview, but as Marie continued to devour the roll, and the picked up another, the myconid huffed and reached out to slap her knee.
“Well, come on then. Who is it? It’s the alligi child isn’t it.”
The mock-glare Marie sent towards the [Guild Clerk] was treated with the dismissal it deserved, and Marie relinquished her right to an uninterrupted meal for the sake of her friend’s curiosity.
“No actually, though I want to talk to her about something else, and she is not a child. I am giving Osric a shot.”
Greeleena’s eyebrows half-raised in surprise and Marie smiled encouragingly at the motion.
“Hey, that is a big improvement. You have been practicing.”
The myconid would have flushed if she could.
“Thanks. Getting them both to move at the same time is still tricky.”
A couple of days ago Marie had been trying to put a finger on something about her fungal friend that had felt off. It had taken all morning but she’d finally realised the woman had grown a couple of inches. After a few tentative questions Greeleena had given her a faltering smile and given her a brief lesson on myconid lifecycles.
“How long do you think it will take to get used to the new body - until you are as comfortable in it as you were in the old one?”
“Another week or two at most. The older I get the quicker the process will be: more of me replaces the dead body so there’s less new stuff to work out.”
“And how long before you do not need to inhabit a corpse at all?”
Greeleena waved a hand uncertainly.
“At all? Never. We can’t make bone so we need a Skeleton to work around. Or a sturdy plant, but not many go for that. I’ll keep growing for another fifteen years or so and by then I’ll only need to replace bits when they break.”
Marie nodded along. By this point, not even her friend growing into another dead body fazed her, but Greeleena was more interested in the alchemy interviews.
“Are you really giving it to Osric? He doesn’t look like he’ll cope.”
No, but he was the best of the bunch.
“I have faith that if he is given enough time and support he can do what is needed. He is certainly eager.”
“I’ll bet he is. He’s got eight children to feed and you offered good pay.”
“Eight!”
“Yup. He and Mrs Bristleback like to get busy.” Greeleena snorted, or tried to. It came out more as a wheeze as she struggled to control her dead host’s lungs and nose at the same time. “Blazing sun, that’s going to take some practice. Shall I tell Rudi to give him the good news, or are you going to run it past Thror?”
It was a question she’d asked herself at first, but it hadn’t taken long to make up her mind.
“No to both. The [Guildmaster] gave me the task and I will not be requiring payment from him - not if the hangover cures sell as well as I think they will - so I will offer him the job, and I will do it myself.”
So saying, she pulled over a sheet of paper and wrote out the good news. She blew on it to dry it quicker then folded it a few times until it made a distinctive shape, and breathed a Skill onto it.
“[Paperwing Courier]: Osric Bristleback.”
She watched the origami dove give itself a little shake and then launch itself off the table to flap out of the door and into the town. Her heart gave a sympathetic flutter as she watched it go. She’d used it as much as she could over the past couple of days since she’d got it.
Some things about this world really are beautiful.
As if to put lie to her feelings, almost a dozen ragged, unwashed and grumbling adventurers chose that moment to tromp through the guild doors.
With the sudden influx, Marie and Greeleena joined their colleagues at the desk, and a familiar face trudged up to lean on the counter opposite her.
“Hey Miss [Scout].” He put heavy emphasis on the class, but managed a weary smile. “What are the chances of getting a drink and something to eat along with our pay?”
She cast a critical eye over Sirrochon, and the ragged, dirt-covered members of the Spellswords arrayed behind him. Even Fila and the allagi they hired as a musician were with them. Outwardly she smiled. Inwardly she held her breath as along the counter the other receptionists did the same for their clients.
“Certainly. There’s food out on the tables by the fireplace. Could I tempt you with a complimentary bottle of wine?” She held out one so dark it was almost black. A decent vintage but not one that would set the funds back too much. “Your loot is free of any tax as your arrangement with the council was made before our new system was implemented. I just have to check how everything went.” Her statements brought the hint of a smile and then a sigh respectively.
Of course, she already knew the basics from Chuffa, Brunalda and Chiritta, and the complimentary drinks were as much a consolation prize as it was a subtle attempt to start them on the path to wanting hangover cures the next morning.
It only took a minute to confirm the details and count out the payment. It wasn’t everything the council had allocated: the flat fee was entirely split between the adventurers, but the rather gruesome bounty on bandit hands had been enough to cover a full hundred pairs, not the paltry baker’s dozen they’d captured. The rest of the group wandered over to the tables and chairs as Sirrochon finished up with Marie.
“That bad?” She raised an eyebrow at the sight of the irrepressible halfling, Quartz, slumping into a chair twice his size.
Trying for a grin and failing, Sirro ran a hand down his face, leaving streaks in the grime that coated it.
“Miserable. A full ten days and nary a real fight to be had. We were already expecting a lower cut of the pot taking so many out, but we thought we’d make up for it with the bounties and the loot.” He sighed as he did his best impression of a melting candle. “At least we didn’t waste many resources.”
“I am sorry. I hope things improve.”
She watched as his eyes lifted to her, and she could read the question in them, but for now he seemed too tired to push for her to join them if and when they next went out. His mouth half-opened, then closed again, and he took the payment the Spellswords were due as she finished counting it out for him.
“If you are looking to relax and recover, I have a few suggestions: new perks that I have managed to obtain for members of the guild.”
Fighting off weariness, he waved her over to the chairs and settees where the other groups had collapsed, save for Aelind? who was kneeling down to play with Napoleon.
And they were still groups. Even after the time they’d spent together in the wilderness, there was a distinct break between them. Sirrochon sat next to Dappled Shadow as the tabaxi checked the fur of Leaping Mist, and Quartz visibly declined to make some quip. Even Fila and the allagi had picked chairs near them.
With Brunalda and Chuffa having been back since the morning and now accompanying the guildmaster, Evermore’s Flame only had three of its members arrayed round one of the tables when Eldun rejoined them. Fodrin was tending to the oversized crossbow he called a weapon - one which had accounted for a full third of the bandits they’d killed - but Rina looked up.
“Hey Marie. Afraid I won’t be any more use to you. Didn’t level after all.”
It took a moment for Marie to remember the [Rogue]’s promise.
“Oh, it is of no worry. Rest up. It is being looked over by people at the library.”
Moving round, she came to the last of the groups, sitting next to the fire even though it was out.
Embris had picked up a coal and was rolling it between her hands. It began to glow, and even in the afternoon warmth Marie could feel the heat emanating from it.
Unless that was from Embris herself.
Aelind? didn’t stir from where she played with Napoleon on the floor.
Ils sont abattus.
She cleared her throat, and a few of the heads lolled in her direction as the others picked at the array of food and drinks Greeleena had set out.
“Welcome back, everyone. I am sorry to hear that the mission did not go as you would have liked, but Brunalda and Chiritta have accompanied [Guildmaster] Thror to speak to the council about funding an extension.” She waited for a response, but no enthusiasm showed. “Anyway, I hope that with the new pricing structure you will be better rewarded for your work, and in the meantime, I thought you might like to enjoy some of the other benefits I have been working on getting for you all.”
A few of them made the effort to smile encouragingly, but it was a tough crowd. She injected a modicum of pep and vigour into her voice.
“I know you must be exhausted so let the guild help as much as possible. For a very reasonable fee, we can wash and mend any dirtied clothing and armour, and when you want to go back out, we have some supplies and rations ready to go whenever you are. In the meantime, if you wanted to head to the local bathhouse before dinner, you will find that guild members receive a generous discount on bathing and massages.”
That made the group perk up. It had been her most challenging negotiations - ignoring the ongoing one with The Grinning Broccsus - but the reaction made the hours spent talking to the owners and managers worthwhile. Well, that and the level she’d gained from it.
“Pumpkin pie and cold cider,” Quartz swore, “that could just about turn this day around.”
“Do they have saunas?” Embris asked.
Marie nodded.
“And ice pools and steam rooms. They might even have a new sort of treatment I told them about - an aromatherapy room. And they’re considering putting some exercise rooms in to go with it.”
That had been what had clenched the deal with the bathhouse - her ideas for how they could entice more people more often. Something new.
Not that they were her ideas really, or new. The ancient Egyptians had been burning incense in chambers on Earth more than five thousand years ago to help with relaxation, and many of the civilizations that developed around the Mediterranean had combined exercise with their public bathing spaces. She was just bringing those ideas to a new market, and Wayfarrow’s bathhouse had been grateful enough for them that they’d granted leave for adventurers to use the facilities at half price.
For the first time since they’d traipsed through the doors, a spark of energy appeared in the adventurers. Quite literally in Embris’ case, and with a burst of renewed life, half of them shot off to the baths, shouting orders for the gear they leave behind to be taken care of.
Even Sirrochon made a move for it, throwing off the despondence of the failed mission, though he at least stopped to thank her for the idea. Eldun was the only other one to show his gratitude, and also left a tip on the table along with a request to send Brunalda and Chuffa along if they returned.
When the proverbial dust settled, there were only two people from the adventuring group left behind.
The allagi wandered off to talk to one of Algar’s [Hunters] who’d been perusing the new guild shop wares, but Fila remained, sunk deep into an armchair, cracking her knuckles with an audible pop. Marie grabbed a book and took a seat across from Lord Entoll’s daughter.
“Not going to join the others?”
The [Arcane Songstress]’s face went slack for the briefest moment before she gave a fake smile.
“I’m sure they’ve had quite enough of me over the past week and a bit. I don’t think they enjoy my company any more than they did before.”
Marie paused in the review of her book and looked up, frowning.
“They said that?”
“Oh no, it’s nothing they said. They actually don’t say a whole lot to me at all.”
It wasn’t hard to read the loneliness in the woman’s eyes and Marie made a mental note to talk to Sirro about it. Fila was a decent person. She almost said something before Fila shrugged and continued.
“Aelind? and Chiritta were fun, but they were off on their own scouting a lot so we didn’t see so much of them.” Her head tilted to the side, recalling a memory. “Brunalda spent more time with me than anyone else. We swapped some spells. They all treat me like a noble’s daughter though.”
“You are a noble’s daughter.”
“That’s not the point.” Fila flicked her fingers dismissively before grabbing her glass of wine. “Anyway, how have things been since we all left? I hope my father hasn’t caused any trouble.”
Returning to her book, Marie flipped to the next page and began to jot down a few notes.
“Honestly, I do not think he remembered me until I saw him in the council’s chambers the other day. He still has a grudge. I fear I may not have improved matters.”
“I talked to him before I left.” She frowned. “He’s been quick to anger ever since I was a child, but usually a [Soothing Song] calms him down.”
“Sorry you have to deal with that.”
Fila waved away her concern.
“It’s no big deal, usually. Many people have it worse.”
Acknowledging that truth with a nod, Marie reached a fresh page and began compiling a list.
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Building practices in a pre-industrial society and the effects of enhanced attributes, mystical powers and supernatural abilities in delaying the onset of advanced construction techniques.
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Social and economic norms in a hunter-gatherer society and the resulting reliance on trade.
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The balance between magical solutions and traditional methods in a small rural town.
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Does the presence of enhanced attributes, mystical powers and supernatural abilities mask the presence or effects of old age, and if so, how does it impact our ability to analyse remains?
She crossed out the second and tried to come up with a better phrasing.
The scratching of the nib and the quiet munching of snacks were the only sounds beyond Napoleon’s occasional shifting over the next quarter of an hour, until Marie reached the end of her page and Fila came to the end of her refreshments. The noble woman was the one to break the silence.
“More reformations for the guild?”
“Not at the moment. A personal project.”
I will become an [Archaeologist].
“I’d fake more interest but I just can’t right now. I’m going to go back to the manor. I’ll have a hot bath waiting, and more food; father hires the best [Servants]. Maybe tomorrow we can meet up - if you want to that is?”
Through the evident exhaustion, Marie could hear the note of loneliness once more.
“Will I not see you at dinner? Sirro said everyone was going to the Broccsus.”
“Probably not. I don’t think Luthvin or I were included in that invitation.” She looked up to where the allagi had left the guild minutes before, then hurried to reassure her friend as Marie’s eyes narrowed and her mouth opened. “It’s fine though. We could… go shopping?”
“No.” Marie shook her head, hair falling across her face until she brushed it back. “It is not fine. You were with them - on their team. You should come. If I am invited, then you are too. Have your shower and have something more to eat, but meet us at the Broccsus later. Go on now; Napoleon and I will find Luthvin and extend the same offer.”
And she penned a quick note to Sirro to inform him she’d be bringing guests besides Dusty…just in case.
.