Oldeth sprawled from forest to harbour.
The second-largest city in the world (according to Alandrian scholars) had grown rich in sea trade for several centuries. Their people were kept busy with the practices of wealth, but too dabbled in the odd conquest of neighbouring lands. Their endless profits trickling down to form armies and warships that supported war all throughout the world.
The endless wars brought slaves to fuel the fires of industry, and refugees that settled in the cities outer districts or the slums outside the walls, while the harbour brought in merchants from sea and land. But it was Oldeth's attractions that suckered in the nobles, the off duty knights, the returning soldiers, and the fool with too heavy a purse.
The dazzling wizard stage shows, enchanting plays, magical operas and specialty taverns gifted Oldeth with the nickname 'Pleasure Coast' of Alandria. In reality, Oldeth was very much a different place depending on the district one visited, a different world depending on the street.
'Old Oldeth' itself, often lovingly referred to as the 'Stink' by its residence, was a collection of the most populated districts, filled to the brim with dock workers, crafters, farmers, soldiers and gangsters. The 'Jewels' was a district surrounded by high walls and patrolled with tall guards in clean uniforms, all the major attractions secured within from the less fortunate citizens of the land by private companies of purebred men and monsters with enough brain to negotiate a mercenary contract.
The 'Pews' was where both the grand churches stood side by side, and the storehouses for grain, fish and trade goods lay in long rows beside Oldeth's grand docks. In Oldeth there was a joke that their proximity was due to merchants wishing to pray for good luck before signing a deal, and seeing as the merchants were likely to donate the most, the church's to the three had migrated ever closer to the source over the last few hundred years. Now it was said some of the Merchant Guilds actually had a church or two boxing them in, and harrying them for donations every eve least their patron god should damn the guild with poor fortune.
Suffice to say, Oldeth was a busy city, where not everything could possible by tracked by one person, and where it might takes days before news could spread from one end to the other. Today was no different, not enough eyes thinking to focus on the adventurers with the 'H' badge on their chests, nor in how they searched in groups street by street.
What was instead noticed was the enchantments on their armour, the fae steel blades, the potions, the cleanliness - harlots hummed saucy tunes as they passed, merchants had their assistants hound them down the streets, and circus troupes unleashed their wildest acts when these rich adventurers passed by in the poorest quarters.
And still, the adventurers of the Hero Guild pressed on.
In a faraway warehouse that had long gone into disrepair, the new owner watched over his workers as they put on a fresh coat of paint, reinforced the walls, fixed the ceiling, and pulled in new furniture.
"Think we can get this finished by tomorrow, Caster?" said one of the adventurers.
"We'll need too. The Grand Guildmaster is bringing in more adventurers, we need a place for them to stay. Not safe to use the other taverns, not for the lower ranks," Caster said, having heaved another cabinet into place and now had the time to wipe the sweat from his forehead.
The whole place was filled with makeshift beds, Warden Company and the Furbolgs in their human forms being the first to arrive. The Grand Master was set to arrive tomorrow with 'more' although Caster had no clue just how many people he was supposed to be preparing for. And with all hands being needed to get this place in working order while still gathering information... well, Warden Company hadn't the time to take on quests. Which meant soon their dwindling funds might run on dry, and Caster would be forced to turn their attention back to earning their keep.
"Sergeant, the Grand Master has arrived!" a message shouted from the entrance, the news causing several adventurers to throw themselves up and get working. To show your lazy side to the fabled Kenji was an impossibility, and with all the recruiting Caster had been doing in the last few months since Essenark he had plenty of recruits who had only heard the stories too.
The stories, Caster knew, could not possibly compare with the reality itself. Especially as 'Kenji' was considered to be a red-haired human with golden eyes. The secret of his power was a closely held secret, and his other 'forms' were often regarded as members of his personal adventurer party. The result was that Caster knew of warriors who wanted to meet the famous 'Trog the Siegemaster' or 'Dana's good sister' or 'Paragon of Beauty and Murder' which was the rather long-winded title awarded to the Sun Elf Queen. The bard that had coined that the last title spent most of his time harping on about her, and Caster had had to have several stern talks to make sure the bard didn't attempt to hit on Kenji's form (or Four forbid the real Sun Elf Queen) if they arrived.
Striding through came Kenji as...well, a little different to how Caster remembered him. His hair was animated real flame, his golden eyes were cracked with streaks of brilliant emerald green, his body was strong and lean beneath rich red cloth while his sword was wrapped in bandages and strapped to his back.
"I don't care, Arwen, I just don't. You can either fight me again or stop complaining!" Kenji said, a rich brown-haired woman with dark tanned skin and silvery mithril armour strolling in behind him. Afterwards came a monk looking fellow with brown cloth and a thick wooden stave. Then came the First Speaker of the Council, Violet followed by the Sun Elf Queen and a series of elves and members of the horned folk. Almanac arrived next, followed by several adventurers and wizards. Hogar came afterwards, bickering with a few of his rogues and barely fitting through the door.
Priests of the Truthblade.
Knights of the Silver Swan.
Werewolves of the Twisty Pines.
Furbolgs of the Hidden Glave.
Adventurers from all over Alandria too, poached from other guilds, individuals recruited from the land, or those who had heard of the Hero Guild's exploits all. There were too many, far too many. With more flooding in, Caster went wide-eyed as Kenji approached, feeling he had prepared only a tenth of what he should.
"G-grand Master, I'm sorry, I didn't realise you would be bringing so many fighters-"
The Grand Master clasped Caster on the shoulder and grinned.
"This place is shaping up well Caster. Apologies about arriving early, but couldn't wait to get started. I've brought some extra adventurers too, so better look into purchasing some more living space - and don't worry, I've brought plenty of coin as well. Also I saw there were some churches nearby, checked it out and found the Merchants in this area give a pretty penny to each of the Three when they want to make a deal, setting up a branch of the Fourth seems likely to bring in lots of revenue, right?"
"The people would-"
"They are capitalists. Show everyone it makes them prosperous, and they won't care. Besides the Turthblade is about fighting and truth, rather hard to spin that as a demonic menace."
Caster watched mesmerized as Kenji's compatriots swept along into the hall and took over. They seized equipment, talked with group leaders, and generally merged themselves with the existing hierarchy.
And then they came talking to him, asking if he had considered setting up a trade hub here, a recruitment station, building a tavern of our own, purchasing areas along the same street to provide security, organising the scouted information in order of importance-
"Let me get a quil, please, I'll get right back but I have to write this all down!" Caster said urgently finding a way to get this all on paper. Meanwhile the Grand Master had already vanished back into Oldeth, not having arrived for five minutes without providing a week's worth of progress.
As the buzz of productive talk and work filled the hall to the brim, supplies and manpower were brought in and out and construction continued at a breakneck pace - Caster returned with his paper and quil to a series of expectant faces.
"No need to rush, we just want to make sure you get this right. Better if you take it slow if that helps you learn," Violet said smiling.
"We're all doing our best, so take your time human," added the Sun Elf Queen, Caster shooting off a sour look to a certain bard who had been approaching harp in hand.
"Thank you, but I'm just excited. It looks like the Grand Master has mobilised every Guild in the league! Anyway, let's get started."
Putting ink to paper, Caster didn't stop writing down suggestions and plans until his arm was sore and night had fallen. When he finally looked up, he barely recognised the hall, the skeleton of what was to be a second floor already erect, and rows of bunkbeds positioned in rows for the time being.
Then came dinner, a great hearty stew that tasted better than anything Caster had eaten in months and prepared by a very small Furbolg.
Smiling as he accepted his bowl, Caster was very thankful to have the Grand Master and his allies on their side. This level of organisation, trust and good will...how coudl those who stole away Tenko possible stand against it?