“Listen up, you lazy bums! This here’s the new hot shit in town! He’s gonna be lying around stinking up the place for a while, but make him feel at home! If he complains even once, I’m gonna have you all crawling through thornbushes butt-ass naked!”

  ? It was the only introduction Veyra offered. A quick, rather descriptive greeting and warning, then she gave him a swift pat on the back and just… walked away. He stared after her incredulously, wondering what the hell she was thinking. She acted as if she couldn’t see him standing alone near the doors, making her way over to a bald man eating his dinner. After draping herself over him like a scarf, she gave Grim a smirk and a wink, then completely ignored him for the rest of the night.

  ? The inside of the… Archives, was it? The inside of the Archives was a noisy place, as he’d noticed earlier. But it was also a happy place, with plenty of laughing, grinning faces. Everyone was tearing into their food and drinking from deep mugs. He’d half-expected a long silence after Veyra’s graphic introduction, but instead, the room cheered loudly, and more than a few of them waved at him. His face stuck in permanent shock, he was rooted to the spot, unable to figure out what to do.

  ? The first room of the building–which, judging by its dimensions, took up most of the first floor–held eight or nine long wooden tables, each seating about ten people. There didn’t seem to be any regard for rank in the room, as no table was placed in any isolation to make it stand out. In fact, Orren–he assumed it was Orren that Veyra was practically lying on now–sat at a table among a healthy mix of both young and old faces. He seemed like… any other member.

  ? “Oh, come on!” Grim felt an arm wrap around his neck, nearly yanking him off his feet. “You can’t just stand on ceremony like that! You have to come over and eat and drink with us!”

  ? The stranger practically dragged Grim over to a nearby table before shoving him down into a seat and collapsing beside him. Honestly, Grim wasn’t sure how the man was able to land on the seat with how uneven his feet seemed, but he didn’t comment on that. At least someone was willing to talk to him easily enough.

  ? “Name’s Garf,” the man said, reaching forward to dig a spoon into a steaming pile of mashed potatoes and scooping a large dollop onto a plate that seemed to appear from nowhere in front of Grim. “Well, Garfendal, if you believe my parents. But what kinda name is that? Anyway, call me Garf. Everyone knows me ‘round here. Ain’t that right, Miranda?”

  ? “Huh?” A dark-skinned woman with yellow hair looked around as Garf addressed her, her eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”

  ? Garf pelted the woman with a roll for her joke. Well, he tried to, but it split in half before it came close, and she only smirked. When she met Grim’s eyes, he gave a small start of surprise. Icy blue irises surrounding white pupils were narrowed, but in a friendly smile. She was… beautiful. Something captivating about her… face? Her eyes? He had the sudden urge to climb over the table and introduce himself properly, but would she find that interesting enough?

  ? “Hey!” Garf threw an arm in front of Grim’s face, breaking his concentration. “No bewitching the new guy! Give him a chance to learn about your nasty trick before you try to corrupt him!”

  ? Miranda snorted, her chin lifted high in a gesture of innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just being nice.”

  ? “You were being nasty,” Garf countered. “Keep those devil eyes on your food! What if he wasn’t interested in women? You could have made him do something he’d regret!”

  ? “Oh, please,” the woman said, rolling her eyes. “I can’t attract people with my eyes if they wouldn’t normally be attracted to me, idiot. Why do you think they never work on you?”

  ? “Ha!” Garf let out a bellow of laughter. “Gotcha!”

  ? Miranda paused, her mouth hanging open slightly. A tinge of pink filled her cheeks, and she seemed to shrink visibly. “F-Fuck you, Garf! Stop scrambling my brain!”

  ? “That’d be the alcohol,” Garf said flatly, though a smirk did come over his face. “And… no thanks. You’re not my type.”

  ? This time it was Miranda who threw a roll, and Garf tumbled dramatically off the bench as it hit him squarely in the forehead. In spite of himself, Grim failed to suppress a snort of laughter. Nobody could make that level of nonchalance look so natural. Despite his love of peace and quiet, this chaotic, friendly atmosphere wiped away most of the lingering anxiety inside him. He even offered Garf a hand as the man clambered back onto his chair, a distinct red circle visible on his rather pale skin.

  ? “Don’t mind Miranda,” he said, taking a bite out of the roll that had just smacked him. Speaking around the bread in his mouth, he said, “She’s kinda cute, but relies on her magic to get her nightly friends. She thinks she’s gonna surpass Veyra in being the local flirt.”

  ? Another roll sailed out of the crowd, but this time not from Miranda. Grim only identified its source when Veyra shouted from across the packed room. “Don’t go bad-mouthing Miranda! The poor girl’s got enough on her plate without you poisoning future pre-err, friends away from her!”

  ? She’d been about to say prey, Grim thought, frowning across at the Captain. He was sure of it. Were all women in Ironmarsh this… vivacious? Yeah, that was a polite way to put it. But if they were all as rambunctious and cunning as the two he’d met so far, he was in trouble.

  ? “So, you’re name is Grim, is it?” He had to crane his neck around to see the new speaker. A young woman his own age, he noted. She had sandy brown hair tied back into a simple ponytail, with a few strands pulled free to casually frame a narrow, pale face. She offered him a slight smile.

  ? “I’m Maven,” she said, extending a hand in greeting. “I’m the apprentice Clerk for the guild.”

  ? With that introduction out of the way, she grabbed Garf by the top of his head and pulled him to the side, emptying the seat. “Find somewhere else to sit for a bit, Garf.”

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  ? “Veyra, Maven’s bullying me again!” Garf called, flashing a grin up at her from the floor.

  ? “Good! Get out of her way!”

  ? His grin turned to a look of mock horror, and he jumped to his feet, pouting. “Fine! I know when I’m not wanted anymore. I’ll go somewhere people respect me instead!”

  ? He made a show of looking around at the rest of the noisy room, his frown deepening. “Ah, I think I’ll go outside for a smoke. Nice to meet you, Grim. We’ll talk more tomorrow if we get the chance!”

  ? Maven slid neatly into the newly empty seat and pushed Garf’s plate further down the table before setting down the thick book she was carrying. “Right. Captain said she pulled you out of the slums of Beastwick. Is that true? You don’t look like the typical sort who would be slumming it in the places she likes.”

  ? Grim snorted at that. “I met her in a Delver’s Inn. The cheapest one in the city.”

  ? “That is her style,” Maven confirmed, offering him another smile to take the sting out of the words. “Do you have a family name, or are you self-titled?”

  ? The way she asked the question was so refreshing, he couldn’t help but return her smile. Nearly everyone in Beastwick was obsessed with knowing who you were related to. Noble blood, or at least a connection to noble blood, was all they cared about. Choosing a new name for oneself upon registering as a delver wasn’t even that uncommon, and yet it was treated with such scorn.

  ? “Err, Kestrel,” he said. “I picked it myself.”

  ? “Oh, nice!” she replied enthusiastically, scribbling the name down in her book. “Like the hawk?”

  ? “Exactly. I’ve been a stealth build basically my whole life, and I admired the way they silently hunted their prey.”

  ? “That’s cool. I wanted to pick a name for myself when I became a delver, but my mother wouldn’t have it. She probably would have had a stroke if I’d done that.”

  ? “Who’s your mother?” He wasn’t sure what made him ask the question, but some small part of him wanted to know more.

  ? “Kaelen Thorne,” Maven said flippantly, her smile fading somewhat. “Yes, that Kaelen Thorne. And no, I’m not here just because she vouched for me. She didn’t even want me to join this guild, let alone become a delver.”

  ? She scratched a few more words into her book, then looked up, apparently puzzled by his lack of a response. “What?”

  ? “Err, sorry,” he said. He wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for, but it felt right. “I don’t know who that is.”

  ? He half-expected her to be irritated by that, but instead, her face brightened considerably. She beamed at him properly now, her eyes alight with something remarkably like joy. “Oh, right! You’d have no idea who she is! Oh boy, that’s a pleasant surprise!”

  ? She scooted a little closer to him on the bench and gave him another broad grin. The chaos of the room around them died away as she continued talking to him, though he felt like a drunkard trying to speak to a scholar. He’d thought she was pretty at first, but that open, genuine smile had transformed her face from mere prettiness to proper beauty, and he was having trouble focusing on what she said.

  ? “So,” she said, snapping the book closed. he gave a little jump at the sudden noise. “That’s all the information I need from you for now. But you’ll have to do a little more paperwork before you’re an official member. Just guild registrations, getting sized for your uniform, the normal boring stuff. You’ll have to come visit me tomorrow for all that.”

  ? She gave him another small smile, then rose from the seat. “Garf! You can have your seat back now!”

  ? “That’s… it?” He asked, blinking slowly. He didn’t really want her to leave just yet. Then, realizing what he was saying, he shook his head slightly. “I mean, thank you, Maven. I’ll make sure to come see you tomorrow.”

  ? “Sounds like a good idea,” she agreed, smirking. “I wonder where you got it from.”

  ? Then, giving him a small, friendly wink, she disappeared into the crowd, soon to be replaced by Garf, who plopped down into his seat before reclaiming his plate. “Whew! Nothing like a little night air and some Breshka to sober you up. Almost had you thinking I was weird for a second there.”

  ? Grim snorted in laughter and returned his attention to his plate. “Yeah. Almost.”

  ? After a meal that seemed to stretch on for hours, Grim was shown to one of the empty rooms on the second floor of the building and given a key. Garf explained how the rooms worked. “There’s typically two to a room. You’re in luck, because we were at an even number of members before you arrived, and recruits aren’t that common for a crazy guild like ours.”

  ? “Thanks,” Grim said. He was used to sharing a room from his time in the Starter Guild. Frankly, he was used to sharing it with three other people, so that number being reduced to just one was a comfort. And the space was almost twice as large as his room then had been. “Any rules about curfew or wakeup?”

  ? Garf let out a laugh and slapped him on the back. “Not at all. If you’re needed, someone will come find you, so don’t worry about that. And, if someone catches your eye and you wanna bring ‘em up here, the common courtesy is to make sure you’re fully dressed until you’re *inside* the room. Outside of that, we don’t really care. Just try not to lead by Veyra’s example, okay?”

  ? “Right,” Grim said, chuckling nervously. How much crazier did this woman’s reputation get? “Well, thanks for showing me to my room.”

  ? “My pleasure! Oh, and the baths aren’t connected to the main building. Just sneak out the back doors and follow the stone path to the left back corner. You know the stables? It’s the building across from that. ”It’s where we do all our physical training without weapons, but we’ve also got super good baths. Just… try to get in before noon, if you can. Water gets cold by then, and everyone’s too lazy or hungover to boil it for the people that use it after them."

  ? After Grim nodded his understanding, Garf clapped him on the back again. “Right! Looks like you’re all set. You can pretty much do whatever you want, but if you want some advice, I’d stay inside the Dungeons, at least. Since you’re new to the city, you might accidentally wander into a danger zone without knowing it. Best if you hang out nearby until we’ve got your paperwork settled. Just to make life easier, I’m sure you understand.”

  ? “I do.”

  ? “Perfect. Well, I’m going to get back to drinking, so you make yourself at home and enjoy some sleep. Welcome to the guild, Grim. I’m sure we can expect great things from you, if Veyra thought it was worth it to drag you all the way here.”

  ? Great things, Grim thought, closing the door behind him. Right. He’d gone from nobody knowing of his existence beyond a passing glance to great things being expected from him, virtually overnight. He wasn’t sure he was up for all that. Better to live a good, normal life as a delver, growing in power and wealth, until he could retire comfortably. He flopped down onto the bed, just barely managing to remove his travel and dungeon-stained shirt before he succumbed to the soft blankets and pillow pulling him down into the realm of the unconscious.