20 – Professional Consultation

Molehill’s guild was a lively place.

Ari had only been here two days, but already it was feeling closer and closer to home. Or, not home, because that was definitely back in Tark, with Ma and Pa, but a home away from home.

The Guild was the largest structure in Molehill, and the Central Hall, the largest room in the Guild. It was where adventurers rested for the day, talked, drank, and formed parties or exchanged stories of their escapades.

The room was filled with merriment, laughter, and—less frequently—rowdiness, and not always of the good spirited sort. But considering adventurers, that was an inevitability.

The higher ranks always broke fights up pretty fast. When it was the higher ranks doing the brawling … well, everyone got out of the way, and let the official Guild staff handle it. Even a high rank wouldn’t be stupid enough to lay hands on a Guild employee.

Though, Molehill didn’t actually have any high rankers—level forties and above. High rankers were rare. Stupid rare, maybe one in ten thousand adventurers … not that Ari had any kind of census to be making that guess off of, but if the kinds of people who could rip trees out by their roots were common, society would be a bit on the fritz.

Tables were scattered about the hall, stuffed with food, beer, and cheerful patrons. On the walls hung enormous portraits, hand-painted and imported, of all kinds of things: monsters, heroes of myth, even Guild officials—serious faces, donned in regalia, and gazing down on the lively hall with disapproval.

Ari should probably have been able to name some of them—they were likely the Guildmasters to the most important guilds on the continent—but she couldn’t. She’d always slacked a bit when it came to that kind of thing. Even the Guildmaster of Goldshield, she couldn’t name—and she was certain he was up there, somewhere.

Ari recognized a smattering of the patrons, though not to any level she’d feel comfortable walking up to them and joining in on the revelry. Though, that wasn’t why she’d come down here.

She’d cleaned herself off from her filthy adventures earlier, and the sun was still out in full force. With how exhausting … well, that type of fighting was … it meant her work day had ended earlier than most. Which was a good thing, because Ari had Guild business to attend to.

She’d been pointed this way by Lurran, the Guild’s receptionist. One of the reasons falling under a guild’s banner—little ‘g’, a ‘sub-guild’, so to say—despite their commonly high fees was for the benefits. Striking out on one’s lonesome was a poor—and often fatal—decision. As Ari earned through her monthly fees, she was entitled to guidance.

Guidance … on a [Monster Layer] class. It might be rather difficult to get.

But she couldn’t just ignore her circumstances forever, no matter how embarrassing. She wouldn’t be broaching the topic in explicit detail, but she had questions she wanted to ask from someone who might be able to answer them. Hence, her seeking-out of a mentor. An older, more experienced member of the Goldshield guild, who could give her some pointers—and confirm, or reject, some of Ari’s assumptions about her class.

Tiptoeing around the topic without revealing too much was sure to be interesting.

She found the woman Lurran had suggested to her without too much difficulty. She was seated alone, in the corner of the room, as Lurran had jokingly suggested she would be. Sigrid had, apparently, a bit of a reputation for solitude—though, Lurran assured her, not unfriendliness.

Ari walked up to her table, feeling a bit awkward. Sigrid, lost in thought, stared down at the table and swirled a dark whiskey in a crystal glass, not noticing her arrive. Ari had to clear her throat to get her attention.

Sigrid looked up, and Ari was seized by intense gray eyes. She was a middle-aged woman with enough scars to give away her profession; an adventurer on first-sight, even more so than most. Her expression was hard, carved from granite, and she had well defined arms covered by black cloth. Brown hair—graying just the slightest amount—curled around on the top of her head, only a few inches long, military-short. She had the look of a soldier. Serious, solid, stalwart.

Ari didn’t have any specific thing for older woman … but she definitely, definitely wouldn’t mind seeing what kind of ‘experience’ Sigrid had picked up over the years.

Not that a thought like that was remotely appropriate. She’d just met this woman. Even if Ari’s class was all kinds of perverted, that didn’t mean she should let herself start thinking about everything in that kind of way. She scolded herself internally, and, realizing she’d been silent for too long, scrambled to say something, her cheeks coloring.

“Um. Sorry. Lurran sent me this way? You’re Sigrid, right?”

Sigrid watched her squirm with vague amusement. She nodded.

“I’m, um, a new intake to Goldshield. I was hoping I could ask you a few questions?”

Sigrid studied her for a few moments, then gestured at the free chair. Ari slid into it, feeling more awkward than she probably should. It wasn’t like she was asking for a favor; it was the explicit duty of older guild members to help the newer ones. This was what her guild dues afforded her. And when Ari had advanced in ranks, it would be her job, too.

Which … would be hilarious, seeing how Ari’s experiences adventuring weren’t going to be anything like most people’s. What advice would she give? Remember, if you get into a fight with a leopard-girl, her ears are sensitive. And masturbate before you go out—it’ll help you last longer.

Her cheeks continued to color, though not out of awkwardness.

“I won’t bite,” Sigrid said. “Go ahead. Ask away.”

Ari cleared her throat, chasing the embarrassing thoughts away. She had advice to receive.