Chapter 60 – idk
The light outside the Merchant’s Guild shimmered faintly, refracting off the stained-glass dome above the entrance. It danced in shifting patterns over the smooth cobblestones, like sunlight through water, except there was no sun left, only the pale flicker of lamps hung along the avenue.
Ezra tugged his coat tighter around his shoulders as they approached, the sharp bite of an evening wind rustling through the city. Even in early spring, the capital held on to its chill like a stubborn habit.
“Fifty silvers work,” Marcel muttered beside him, scanning the tall double doors. “Without pay. That’s robbery.”
Ezra smirked, brushing a loose strand of hair from his face. “Technically, it’s school-sanctioned community service. To ‘preserve the public opinion’ and all that.”
Marcel scoffed. “Bet the Board doesn’t ‘serve the public’ for free.”
“Maybe we’ll get a plaque.”
“I’d rather get a day off.”
“As would we all”
They passed under the arching sign which hung above the guild centre, two golden hands clasped over a city skyline, and stepped into the entry hall.
The inside buzzed with warm noise and the bitter scent of sterilised surfaces pierced Ezra’s nostrils. Maps adorned the walls in neat rows, labelled by region. Clerks bustled from desk to desk behind the long counter, quills scratching out names and totals while a large board sat at the front holding live updates on current requests, ongoing ones and the recently completed, quite like a train station.
Ezra paused at the edge of the request floor, letting the energy of the room soak in. Despite the crowd, everything ran with seamless precision. This place, in a way, was the heartbeat of the city. Every trade, every shipment, every errand filtered through here eventually.
“Let’s head to the Regional Requests,” Marcel said, already veering toward the eastern wing. “Local stuff’s always picked clean by the time we get here.”
Ezra followed, boots tapping across the polished stone floor. He scanned the boards as they walked, his eyes catching the separate sections, adorned with different styled ridges to indicate priority. The top, a lavish border surrounding the top priority requests. Often from the most high-ranking merchants and officials. The next section was for the normal requests. There was no extra cost to post here unlike for the top priority. The final sector held the reoccurring requests. They were normally quite simple and needed doing every week or so and didn’t pay very much.
In the corner, a board labelled “3rd Region Requests” flickered and updated with a faint chime. Marcel reached for the request catalogue panel beside it, dragging a finger along the interface to scroll through the listings.
“Here,” Marcel said, slowing down. “A few of these could work.”
Ezra leaned in, reading over his shoulder.
3rd Region Requests
1. Package Delivery to Riverpoint Hamlet
Deliver a sealed parcel to King Charles of Angleand
Reward: 1 silver, 20 copper
Expected Time: 2 days
Risk: Low – standard bandit precautions
2. Herb collection – Moonglow
Collect 15 bundles of wild grown Moonglow from the southern marshes.
Reward: 3 silver, 50 copper
Expected Time: 2 days
Risk: Moderate – swamp terrain, wild beasts reported
3. Bandit Suppression Request
Investigate and, if needed, eliminate small bandit activity along the trade road west of Emberlyn.
Reward: 8 silver (bonus up to 6 for confirmed kills)
Expected Time: 4 days
Risk: Considerable
4. Supply Escort – Medical Goods
Escort shipment of medical kits and equipment to the Temple of Myra in Brighthold.
Reward: 5 silver
Expected Time: 3 days
Risk: Low – standard bandit precautions
5. Crypt Investigation
An old crypt near Willowgate has shown signs of cultish gatherings and monster sightings. Find cause and neutralise threats.
Reward: 20 silver
Expected Time: Unknown
Risk: High – Possibility of armed peoples and mid ranking monsters
6. Beast Cull – Emberclaws
Culling request for invasive Emberclaws in the eastern ridge forests.
Reward: 50 copper per confirmed tail – bonus for total eradication
Expected Time: Variable
Risk: Moderate
Marcel whistled low. “Twenty silver for a crypt job. Bet the faculty would eat that up.”
Ezra raised an eyebrow. “Or it’s only so cheap because the last people failed.”
Wouldn’t want to be those guys.”
They both chuckled, then fell into a quiet rhythm, flipping through more listings and muttering thoughts.
“Emberclaws are annoying, but not dangerous. Still, I can see why they’d want rid of them.” Marcel said, frowning. “Not for us though, too many tails needed to hit fifty silver. Would take at least a week.”
Ezra tilted his head. “Swamp roots?”
“Messy. Leeches. Also, not enough payout.”
Ezra tapped the screen. “Bandits.”
Marcel gave him a long look. “Of course you’d want the bandit job.”
Ezra didn’t deny it. “What? It’d be over faster. We could use the combat training.”
Marcel sighed. “You just want an excuse to not have to hold back.”
Ezra grinned. “And?”
“Let's just look at a few other options first, alright?”
They returned their attention to the list, still weighing options. The bandits were tempting, fast, focused, and potentially with extra pay. But the supply escort was safer. Reliable. Less likely to go wrong.
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Ezra felt uneasy, unsure why. Maybe the thought of killing was getting to him. But then again maybe not. Who knew?
He ignored it for now.
Instead, he leaned back against the wall, watching other pairs of students trickle in and out, chatting in small groups or frowning over postings. Before Marcel spoke up in his direction with something to say.
“This is so pointless, why are we doing all this if we aren’t even getting paid?”
"If I had to guess, I’d say it’s cause of the riots. The academy’s probably trying to prove we can do more than just kill" Ezra explained.
"That’s good and all, but why give up our pay? If they want to show their training helps the community, why does that have to involve free labour?"
"just shut it and stop complaining. At least we’re not in one of those workshops. I’d bet your clothes were made by a kid half your age. When you step in shit, try to remember that some have to sleep in it."
Marcel stood quietly for the next few moments, pondering Ezra’s words before he blurted out another one of his thoughts.
"Why do the public care so much? Schools like this are the only reason most of them aren’t living in slavery. I’d bet anything that’s the first thing them dirty Principalists would’ve done."
"Marcel, there have been so, so many refugees coming in from the borders. Why do you think they might have been driven here?"
Before Marcel could answer, Ezra spoke again, "We aren’t the only ones with these sorts of soldier camps. I don’t know how you might’ve forgotten, but the Principality attacked twenty years ago with their main mage force. They wiped out towns, villages a few cities even. The people have every reason to despise our kind. For the century we’ve been at war, mages have been at the front lines for all but the past five, and even then only at a few key locations have they been replaced with the new machinery."
"Ezra. You gotta calm down bro. You’re speaking like I killed a guy, I get it alright?"
"Yea… Sorry"
The main purpose of this kind of assignment is to try to improve public opinion. After all, these up-and-coming mages were almost being bred for war. If riots against the cultivation of soldiers this way were not stopped, the crown could easily lose all aid from citizens in both conscription and other means, hence contributing to a loss in the great war.
At the same time as this, the country was working with Angleand in order to make weapons and vehicles to replace mages on the battlefield, or at the very least aid them, in an attempt to curry the public’s favour.
And Ezra couldn’t help but feel that everything was starting to hinge on decisions like these.
They hadn’t chosen yet. But they would.
Soon.
Ezra's eyes skimmed past a 30 copper errand, some noble’s son needed an escort across town, and a 2 silver herb-gathering expedition in the low marshes. Not bad. Not enough.
Then something shifted. A glint at the bottom of the far-right board. A fresh task popped into place, curling like smoke across the clean, reflective screen.
He stepped closer, the words coming into view.
New Request Posted – Verified & Urgent
Blightfang Nest Purge – Greymire Ravine
Description: Reports of a rapidly breeding pack of Blightfangs in Greymire. Aggression levels rising. Threat to nearby settlements imminent. Requesting full purge.
Reward: 50 silver
Expected Time: 5–7 days
Risk: High
Ezra’s pupils narrowed.
Blightfangs.
They weren’t the worst things he’d studied, but they weren’t entry-level fodder either. Thick, six-legged predators that moved like shadows. Born in corrupted ley-thread zones. They could scale rock walls, pierce chainmail, and fight in packs that moved like one mind.
But it was exactly fifty silver. Enough to satisfy the school’s quota in a single clean sweep.
“Marcel,” Ezra called, not raising his voice, just loud enough to cut through the chatter around them.
Marcel looked up from another board, tucked a slip into his pocket, and strolled over, brushing shaggy hair out of his eyes. “You find something?”
Ezra pointed to the listing.
Marcel read it once, eyebrows lifting. Then again, slower this time, jaw tensing. “Greymire Ravine?” he muttered. “You want to go there?”
“It’s doable,” Ezra said, calm and level. “They wouldn’t post it if it wasn’t within our bracket.”
“That just means they don’t expect anyone to take it.” Marcel glanced over his shoulder as if expecting someone to yank the listing away. “You’ve read about what happened to the squad last year, right?”
Ezra nodded. “Four-man team. One survivor. No prep.”
Marcel stared at the paper like it might bite him. Then, slowly, a grin formed on his lips. “You’re insane.”
Ezra shrugged. “That was different though. This is only rated High, theirs was Very High, and they weren’t all that. They had no shot, us though? We got this.”
“Heh. Fair.”
Marcel stepped forward and reached toward the glowing screen, about to press the accept. When—
SLAM.
A shoulder barreled into Marcel from the side, sending him stumbling backward.
“Oi!” Marcel yelped, catching himself before he tripped into a nearby pillar.
Ezra stepped in immediately, hand darting out to steady him. His other hand hovered loosely at his hip, near the knife hidden beneath his coat.
Three larger people, still students, stood in front of the board now, each one draped in clothes which no doubt insinuated their noble upbringing. Their insignias flashed like polished teeth.
One of them, a boy with slick blond hair and eyes which dripped arrogance, pressed the ‘Accept’ button on the screen without hesitation.
“Well, look at this,” Blondie said, examining the request like it was a golden ticket. “Didn’t expect to find real coin here.”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Marcel muttered, stepping forward again. “We were here first.”
The tall one beside Blondie, lean, sharp-jawed, and sporting a pair of knuckle dusters on each hand, let out a short laugh. “Didn’t see your name on it.”
Ezra placed a hand on Marcel’s chest, holding him back.
“Take it,” Ezra said, voice flat.
Marcel snapped his head toward him. “Ezra, what the hell!?”
“We’ll find another,” Ezra added, ignoring the smirking students.
Blondie gave a mocking bow before stamping the back of his hand with the acceptance number of the request. “Thanks, gentlemen. We’ll let you know how it goes.”
“Not like they’ll live through it anyway. It’ll be back up before we know it.”
“Wha- How d’you figure that then?” Marcel asked, curiously.
“They just look weak. I bet they’ve only practiced against their trainers and the few weak monsters the academy lets us fight. We’re built to fight people, some stuck up nobles won’t have even been near a monster ranked higher than 3rd grade.”
“Y-yea. Alright...” Marcel seemed stuck in thought, biding his time, deciding whether or not to speak up. Finally, he broke the silence, asking Ezra the question he’d been so thoughtfully weighing up an answer to, “Do you not think we should’ve warned them?”
Ezra looked back at Blondie and his entendre before speaking, “Do you remember the first thing we were told when we joined the academy?”
“What? Of course not, what kind of a freak do you take me for?”
Ezra ignored the blatant insult and continued, “They told us not to overestimate us. On the battlefield, that can only lead to death. Put simple, it’s their own fault. Just keep your head down and let's keep going. We gotta find another request.”
The other group walked off, still laughing, Blondie's hand clenched tight even as they walked toward the confirmation desk. Ezra watched them go in silence, jaw tightening slightly.
Ezra turned back to the board, letting his gaze travel downward. After a moment, he tapped a smaller, green-trimmed request halfway down.
Request: Predator Cull – Duskwind Forest
Description: Logging operation halted by predator activity. Tracks suggest one large Shadowmane. Confirmed mauling of scout. Requesting immediate hunt before workers return.
Reward: 20 silver
Expected Time: 5 days
Risk: High
“Here,” Ezra said. “Close enough to get us nearly halfway there. And Shadowmane don’t hunt in packs.”
Marcel peered at it. “Yeah... but they’re fast. Ambush predators. We’ll need traps. Maybe bait.”
“I can get it,” Ezra said. “I still have a contact near East Hollow who sells alchemic bait for big-game hunts.”
Marcel cracked his knuckles. “Alright. Fine. Shadowmane it is.”
Ezra clicked accept, stamping the back of his hand with the acceptance number from the board and made his way to the front desk, where a bored guild clerk glanced at the stamp and produced a slip, stamping it with the Guild Centre sigil.
“Confirmed,” the woman said, monotonously. “Stay safe.”
Ezra pocketed the slip and stepped back out into the street, the chill of late afternoon already curling around the cobblestones. The wind had picked up, and with it came the smell of leaves, city smoke, and roasting nuts from the food stall across the square.
They walked together in silence for a while.
“You think we could’ve taken them?” Marcel asked quietly.
Ezra didn’t look at him. And answered without hesitation. “Yes.”
“Then why didn’t we?”
“Two things. One, embarrassing a noble’s first born isn’t exactly top of my bucket list. Two, if they do survive, they’ll underestimate us. It’s all about the mind games Marcel.” Ezra leaned in closer, calming to a whisper, “The mind games.”
