The remaining day was spent getting situated for tomorrow's proceedings.
My head started hurting the second the rest of us mediators were brought to the large building nestled at Sangroth's heart.
I found it interesting at the knowledge Logallis had acquired over the years, especially when it came to the history of Raasis who built this very building as a way for her followers to speak with her, according to him anyway.
I wasn't surprised to discover that each other mediator was of a noble lineage and full-bloods at that.
Veronica and I quickly became the barely audible gossip between them which sort of made Isho furious.
The two Dökkálfar, a man and a woman, that gained her anger glared daggers at her; she simply smiled back watching both their entourage unsuccessfully cutting the thick strands around their waist.
I didn't say anything when the woman started about some kind of reprimand for a tiny hole in her bejeweled satin blue dress after the last strand around her was finally cut.
The woman didn't take too kindly to my silence, and ordered the large brute of an elf to kill Isho as payment.
He pulled the large serrated longsword from his back, and charged forward without question only to freeze mid-stride halfway.
Thinking this was a perfect opportunity to try out a new spell gained from a large predatory fish consumed on the way here, I simply focused a portion of mana into my gaze, and waited until he unknowingly fell into my trap.
I followed every step he took from underneath my hood waiting for the moment when he would eventually steal a quick glance in my direction.
When that did happen, I imagined two constricting serpents slithering around his body with tightening grasps.
Limbs pressed so hard together that they shattered against the increasing force placed on them.
Their hood flaring outward with a venomous hiss before plunging fangs deep into the man's neck sending fast acting paralysis venom throughout his veins.
The man was still alive, but was trapped in an illusion of slithering scales while those around could watch as his body became statue-like.
[(A very potent spell, indeed. Reminds me a little of a basilisk and its petrifying gaze.)]
After allotting a brief recess from our little swaray, I looked over to Veronica to see if she was just as bored as I was listening to the ramblings of a Dökkálfar noble named Gaeol Viakshpi.
I couldn't help but chuckle a little after discovering that she had her head in her palm, and eyes closed listening to the monotone voice drone on without signs of stopping.
I agree that Viakshpi was very boring even for an acclaimed weapon merchant who personally sells to some top ranked adventurers.
That tidbit of information did remind me that I could potentially turn in a few of the monster carcasses to the Guild for a little extra gold to help fund Siegfried.
With the evening already planned, I used Veronica's own shadow, and created a large rat that trotted before her eyes startling her fully awake.
Her face became blood red when all eyes were on her until the rat dispersed in an obsidian haze. "Brother," she whispered when Viakshpi started once more, "I am going to kill you one of these days."
I chuckled, "I was just giving you a wake up call of sorts. Didn't want you to miss learning the different types of wood used for hilts."
My boredom continued to grow as each of the other full-bloods took their turn to introduce themselves, and passively compare each other's social standing to some degree. "Jackal," Nyxis leaned over and whispered, "the two at the far end seem out of place."
I knew which elves she was talking about. "Aye," I focused on the similar mana each gave off, "I noticed them when they sat down."
Nyx turned to face me, "It shouldn't be possible, right?"
Think about how an object such as a ball sitting in the sunlight casts a shadow contoured to its shape.
Another ball that's a little wider than the first is placed beside it, and also casts a shadow contoured to its form.
Now if you were to place a ball matching everything about the first, then it would be only logical to assume that the shadow would be the same.
That, however, would be wrong due to the fact that no shadow, no matter how similar, is the same just like how mana works.
The elves were an anomaly that goes against this principle meaning that they somehow shared the same mana in all prominent characteristics.
"The question presented to us now," the Ljósálfar beside me, who introduced herself by the name of Amilra Millyn, slowly eyed each one present, "is simple."
She gestured to Veronica and I, "Shall we truly consider the decisions of two halflings, or even consider them valid mediators?!"
The other mediators for peace, whether Ljósálfar or Dökkálfar, agreed with the woman's statement.
I could practically feel their conjoined disgusted eyes bearing down on us hoping that we'd crumble underneath the pressure.
Veronica just stared down at the papers before her while Ragnhild looked about to attack the woman much like Isho and Chera-Ma.
I, on the other hand, simply sat bored from the show of force to the point that counting the squares on the floor would be more fun.
Nyxis rested her head on my shoulder to further the disgusted looks given by the other Ljósálfar.
I shook my head, "I can't help, but wonder makes each of you think that we'd be intimidated by adult sized children."
"Brother," Veronica looked up from the papers consisting of topics needed to be discussed tomorrow, "I'll only help if necessary."
Viakshpi chuckled from his seat across from me, "What is that supposed to mean, Halfling filth?"
The Ljósálfar beside him added, "Do you honestly think you're in a position to overcome all of us?"
Veronica looked at Logallis, "Tell me Archbishop, what's this about a herd of sheep?"
The full-bloods laughter rang throughout the space cutting Logallis off from answering. Millyn crossed her arms and tilted her body, "It seems the halfling is afraid to answer you, Caemifeth."
While the others laughed at the woman's words, Logallis sifted through the papers before finding the right one. He looked at Veronica, "One of the Ljósálfar houses, the Granael House I believe, has several farms throughout upper Astrora. They decided to branch out into lower Astrora to further their wealth."
He took a moment to read a little further, "The Dökkálfar Houses didn't take too kindly to that, and decided to slaughter all the livestock including prized sheep used in the clothing stores they own."
"So," Veronica didn't look up from the demands written, "House Granael wishes for not only land, but also a large amount of gold."
A blonde haired Dökkálfar woman wearing a violet dress chuckled, "I'm surprised a Halfling understood such things."
[(They are starting to irritate me.)]
Putting the remark aside, "Do you know which Dökkálfar House was responsible?"
I waited patiently for Logallis to see if such information was given. "Let's see," his eyes skimmed unseen words, "it appears to be House Nacroth."
[(Why am I not surprised? Mother did warn that House Nacroth is considered the attack dog of the Dökkálfar Order.)]
Logallis' eyes narrowed, "If I'm not mistaken, the two of you are memb-"
"I wouldn't finish that sentence," I interrupted gaining cold glances from the stationed knights, "might cost you something important."
"Oh," Logallis smiled as he turned to the last page in hand, "I see."
"Hold a moment," a Dökkálfar dressed in leather and cloth by the name of Dalvdren Dovass muttered, "I thought I recognized that rapier of yours, Girl."
He started laughing, "You're the offspring of the Nacroth bitch th-"
His words were caught in his throat when Veronica and I appeared on either side with our swords crossed over his fat throat.
The arrogance of his eyes quickly changed to that of fear being so close to death.
I stared coldly at any who tried to step near, and eased Poena a little closer to his jugular making his pale dark blue skin grow lighter.
It was surprising that Veronica, who was often the calm minded of us, acted without thought, and joined me in what could be an act against all Dökkálfar Houses.
I smiled when she stared with inquisitive eyes at my multiple glances.
Chuckling, "I see we still share the same pride about our mother."
"Aye," Veronica moved closer to Dovass' ear and muttered, "and we share the same insult given by a certain party."
"Logallis," I looked to the relatively calm Archbishop, "I do hope you won't hold anything against us after this."
Logallis seemed to ponder all possible outcomes before responding, "Though I am simply acting as a neutral party, the trust I've gained over the years from the Dökkálfar could be shattered in an instant of finding out one of their chosen was injured, or died under my watch."
Possibly out of everyone here, I knew very well what he was truly trying to say, and the potential damage a man of his authority could suffer.
I couldn't help, but to think about the night where three lizardmen of warring tribes nestled in the Abdwell Wetlands had bravely snuck into my camp.
Though far west of Siegfried sitting at the base of a mountain range known as the Valley of Ice, the Abdwell Wetlands is known by many of a crossroads of sorts where the rivers of Athax Frein converge.
I remember that a contract had been made to the Adventurer's Guild requesting for the culling of a large pack of Ishaander, ice wolves, that had been terrorizing a remote village.
I had helped members of each tribe by mere accident, and somehow gained their interest after killing some of their strongest warriors.
[(Still have the scar on my lower right side where one of the bastards bit me.)]
I didn't want to ruin Logallis' reputation out of mutual respect, but an example needed to be made if the message was to be understood.
I leaned closer to Dovass so that my icy gaze was the only thing seen, "Place your left hand flat against the table."
Dovass barely muttered above a faint whisper, "W-what?"
"I'm only going to repeat myself one time," a small trail of blood began to pool on Poena's edge, "rest your hand flat against the table, or I'll take your head. Your choice!"
I smiled when the whelp did as instructed before looking at a confused Veronica, "Make sure he doesn't try anything."
Though confused, Veronica pressed Lovic closer against Dovass' throat when I removed my blade, and turned to face everyone.
I smiled more greedily seeing their angered faces at the audacity of two halflings threatening the life of an all powerful full-blood.
It was a cruel twist of fate I often enjoyed watching their high and mighty egos crumble into ruins.
Granted, most halflings simply are broken down to shallow husks of the people they could've been at an early age.
The full-bloods around me were prime examples of how this world can be so cruel, and the population that I choose to break.
I returned Poena back to the Hunting Grounds with an obsidian haze before speaking, "Listen up because I will not repeat myself!"
I plunged a misericorde deep into the back of Dovass' hand when none seemed to be listening except for Logallis and the two unique elves.
"Quiet," shadowy threads quickly sewed my prey's screaming mouth shut with a snap of my fingers, "it's not like your hand is gone."
"Brother," I caught a glimpse of Veronica shaking her head in disapproval though the etching of a small smile could be seen as well, "do you think this is a little extreme?"
She pushed Lovic a little closer into the flesh just enough to stop Dovass from moving. She turned to face his entourage who slowly crept closer, "I mean a broken wrist is one thing, but a blade through a hand is a bit excessive."
The two guards frantically clawed the tile floor hoping to find some leverage against the billowy tendrils pulling them into an undulating mass formed on the far wall.
Their screams were shortened by strands binding each limb suppressing futile struggling.
Some of the other guards rushed to try pulling them free only to be bound to the wall like mundane decor.
I did what was necessary to send a message that those of egotistical values would hear loud, and clear without being taken lightly.
Veronica sighed a little, and simply removed Lovic from the bastard's neck since all eyes were drawn to us.
I twisted the blade a little forcing a muffled wail to sing between threads. "Now that I have your undivided attention," I appeared beside Millyn who simply watched me walk past, "I can truly give a rat's furry ass what your opinion of Halflings are."
"Feel free to do as you please," I rose from the shadowy mass holding the new decor.
I gently patted the cheek of an Ljósálfar clad in cloth and leather, "Call us all the unmannered names you can possibly think of."
I rose beside Logallis, and leaned forward like a child searching for the seeker, "Hold your bloodline against us.'
My voice boomed through the large room while I merely walked through Penumbra, "Contemplate crushing us like the bugs you consider us."
"But remember this," I rose beside Dovass, "insulting our lineage will lead to an early death."
I grabbed hold of the misericorde, and gestured for Veronica to return to her seat. I twisted the blade a few times, and pulled it free, "This is your first and final warning."
My throat burned from the two year old ale I ordered from the bar situated inside of the furthest buildings of four that formed the Sangroth Branch Adventurers' Guild Hall.
While Nyxis and the others returned to the luxurious rooms provided by Logallis, I was personally escorted by the Archbishop, and several of his guards to an opposite port controlled by the Guild itself.
I would be lying if I didn't say there were occasional doubts bursting my gut as we reached a military looking complex of buildings running along the opposite towering wall from where we first arrived in Astora.
Those thoughts were put to rest when Logallis led the way inside the central three story building facing us, and the familiar image of a receptionist dressed in fine attire stood behind a large bar with rows of shelving to her back.
Logallis seemed to have noticed my relief, and gave a friendly smile as he gave the payment owed before leaving me to my own devices.
I swallowed some more ale leaning against the exposed balcony, and watched mooring ships flying different flags thinking back on the interaction with the receptionist.
The blonde haired Ljósálfar receptionist sounded like a repeating broken tune briefly going over what each building held within.
She also explained that the towering building to the left housed a number of shops tailored to coming, or going adventurers.
I did detect a hint of exasperation in the corners of her eyes when telling her my name.
I tapped the center of a smooth obsidian gray stone tablet pulled from Penumbra, and my guild information - name, rank, ect. - hovered above the surface in a pale yellow light.
As a way of penance for somehow offending me, she wished to personally take me to the Guild's Beastmaster while waiting which I gladly accepted.
A Beastmaster is a person who studies the anatomy of monsters to determine how best to defeat them, and discover which parts are of value.
For being in Elven country, I was surprised to find a number of races walking the streets of Sangroth though that feeling was further intensified when we reached the Beastmaster.
Clad in a simple gray cloth short sleeved shirt and tailored black trousers, a female lizardman - Nāga - stood hunched over a corpse of a large rat-like creature sprawled on a large wooden desk.
Her bluish red scaled form fell to one knee when the receptionist left, and greeted me as the King of Monsters which furthered my surprise.
The Beastmaster introduced herself as Ekirtuss, and explained that a peculiar potent scent about me told her who I was along with an instant feeling of submission.
She seemed a lot relieved when I told her that I was here to hopefully sell a few monster carcasses.
I could tell she was excited about the new specimens to research by how her wide tail started to sway back and forth.
Ekirtuss froze a moment at seeing me smile at the way she excitedly toyed with the first beast killed on the docks.
After being compensated in gold and information, I left her to her work, and headed for the bar.
I now made my way to an empty table looking over the ground floor with ale in hand only to stop when a youthful black haired adventurer placed his feet in my path.
I boringly followed the plain leather boots reaching halfway to the knee, past tattered hide armor bound over simple burlap, and finished when looking into pale brown eyes hovering inside a round face.
I took a sip of ale surveying the other three whelps sitting with him, though it appeared the cleric backed down from my gaze.
Like most systems, the Adventurers' Guild had a pecking order to it that higher ranked adventurers used to terrorize their inferiors.
It appeared that this party had chosen me to play the role of their prey possibly since I don't openly wear my rank.
Sighing, I simply nudged the young whelp's feet to the side and continued to the empty table.
I was soon cornered by the party who tried to further intimidate me which honestly annoyed the shit out of me.
The black haired whelp sang to deaf ears complaining about nearly breaking his feet and the compensation for possible damages.
Sitting my ale down, I kept my focus on the entrance hoping to glimpse the Guildmaster before being seen.
My demeanor, and everything else changed when I grasped air trying to take another swig of drink.
Taking a breath, I prepared myself for whatever the pack of delinquents had planned and chuckled inwardly at the chosen name given them. The leader of the group chuckled after throwing my ale into my face, "Fancy a drink!"
His ragtag band laughed at the poor joke while others sat like statues at their tables trying to not get involved with such a mundane matter.
I lapped up the traces of ale around my lips before grabbing a tattered handkerchief to blot the rest.
More jokes were made at my expense that ranged from the reasoning to wearing a hood indoors to something about sleeping with a horse, not really sure where that one came from.
The orange glint of the Druynor plates, signifying their rank, bound loosely around their necks as they continued the poor comedy routine.
I did take some pleasure watching them become even more irritated when I just sat ignoring them, especially when I took another flagon from a passing bar maiden.
I held up the mug and made a toast, "To whatever you wish to gain!"
"You know," I appeared behind the black haired man as he tried to strike me and startled the others, "it was a damn shame that you wasted some pretty good ale just now."
I vanished once more when he brought the back of his hand around and struck the rouge of his group. "Granted," I appeared beside the warrior of them and took a quick swig, "it doesn't beat Momma Joan's brew, but it ranks in the top five or so."
Again, I shifted into shadows while drinking ale when the brown haired warrior tried punching me only to strike a bystander.
I crouched on the table eyeing each one as the black haired cutthroat gazed on with crazed eyes.
He pulled the dagger from its sheath on his right thigh, and launched himself without warning into my shadowy remnant without much resistance.
I smiled mockingly as he was pulled by his party members back over the banister while screaming like a newborn for aid.
I raised the flagon again when their eyes found me sitting comfortably at an opposite table with a party of two mages.
I thanked the two for the seat and stood. I then tried to hint at my identity after downing the rest of my ale, "Outnumbered once again, and this time I don't have any kegs of Torsac oil."
A blonde haired man wearing steel armor muttered, "Why does he need Torsac oil?"
"Now as for the supposed compensation," I tilted my head when the whelp stood his ground before me, "you're not getting a single shilling of gold."
"As for the supposed injury," I continued when he smirked, "I don't break feet."
I grabbed his throat after swatting a blow to the side and pulled him close until I somewhat towered over him. I stared coldly into the far recesses of his soul, "I break necks."
I eyed the trio drawing their weapons, "Shall I demonstrate?"
The sound of a woman's mocking laughter sent everyone in a frenzy to find the source while I tightened my grasp each time the whelp clawed at my arm.
My gaze only shifted from his friends when a path was soon made, allowing a breathtaking Ljósálfar woman to walk freely forward with a puff of smoke from an elegant pipe trailing behind.
Her honied pearl skin shined further from the dark violet dress that hugged every curve underneath a matching half-opened robe.
Long light brown hair spilled around her angled face from a large violet blue pointed hat before disappearing over each shoulder.
Ruby red lips smiled seductively when my gaze became locked with a pair of dazzling hazel eyes.
"Oh," I released my grip around the whelp's neck allowing him to fall to the floor, "it's just you Cynth."
The woman stopped a few paces from me, and let a puff of smoke that had a sweet aroma to it for a brief second.
Most would consider her out of place among those drawn to the ideals of the Guild, but they would be even more surprised when discovering she held one of twenty Zutryx plates.
Many in the guild know her by the moniker 'The Violet Eminence' due to the colored clothing she fancied and her wealth of knowledge dealing in the arcane.
Fewer still know her by the name of Cynthia Yevette Valra.
I was one of those selective few after earning her respect when our paths crossed during a quest involving a band of ogre brothers turned bandit leaders.
Cynthia chuckled, "I see you're still learning how to make friends."
Shrugging, "Oh yeah, later we plan to go drinking and hit a few brothels after."
"Sarcasm," she smiled, "still suits you as well."
Her eyes turned to the whelp who made it to his party members. She didn't hold back the mockery in her voice, "Bit off more than you can chew, I see."
"Guildmaster," the whelp I nearly strangled muttered between breaths, "he…s…started…it…honest."
"Guildmaster?" I repeated the title.
Cynthia smiled as she inhaled her pipe. A plume of sweet smoke escaped her lips, "Assistant Guildmaster to be frank."
She smiled at my smug smile before a large blue winged sphere with a forked tail fluttered at her side. "I know who started what," the beast opened its single gold eye that encompassed most of its small frame, "and the risk you willingly took."
She slowly eyed everyone as she got closer to me, "Each one of us knew the risks we were making when first joining the Guild."
"Those risks," she shot daggers to the appalled whelp, "include taking part in pecking order activities judging people based solely on their rank."
"You," she pointed gestured with the pipe, "are just bitter from feeling the opposite outcome of what you had in mind."
She shook her head, "Rank does not recognize the skill of the bearer in the Guild. We all start as Porcelain Plates and strive to grow."
Her eyes softened when she turned to gaze at me once more, "Then again, I'd wager that you chose the wrong target multiplied by a thousand."
"G-Guildmaster," one of the mages I took a seat with muttered, "you say that as if you know this man."
The lass wasn't the only one to catch on to Cynthia's words as many mouths muttered in agreement. Cynthia smiled, "That's because there have been many times where the two of us crossed paths while in the field."
I rolled my eyes when she began walking around me puffing her pipe each step. "Honestly," I muttered, "must you blow your smoke in my face?"
She did it once more when completing the circle, "You know the answer to that… Jackal."
Booming surprised mutters sounded like banging drums against the wooden floor which grew louder as the shocked tones turned to boisterous laughter.
Cynthia just stared at me as all eyes continued to laugh tauntingly at what could only be explained by delusional ramblings.
I watched the rogue make her way from her party over to me, and rested an arm around my neck as if we were lifelong friends having a wonderful time.
Cynthia could tell that something was about to happen if nothing was done, but continued to smoke her pipe while the remaining members found their place around me.
The laughter continued on until those on the ground floor looked up in absolute confusion about the ordeal.
The whelp, whose name I later found out was Callum Dawson, held up a hand asking for silence. "Forgive us Guildmaster," he muttered between laughs when everyone was relatively silent, "but you must have forgotten that the Jackal is working for the Ljósálfar as a guard."
The heavily armored warrior of the party added, "Yeah! We all saw him depart in a gilded carriage several days ago. You must have recently hit your head or something."
The cleric silently chimed in wanting to be a part of the fun, "Marx you're jumping to conclusions. For all we know, this horse lover is a glorified ass kisser."
"Gabriel," the rogue chuckled while slapping my shoulder, "you're terrible at this, but I agree with you. However, I'd argue that both are ass kissers, or at least the Violet Eminence here is. I mean, why else do we have two Guildmasters?!"
The silence was broken when two of her party found it funny. Marx shook his head, "Syl!! The Guildmaster is not our quarry."
Callum chimed in despite the surrounding nervous glances toward Cynthia, "Oh lighten up Marx! It's not like we're saying she only got the position because she offered herself."
He smiled coldly at Cynthia, "We would never say anything like that!!!"
I could instantly tell by the look in her eyes that Cynthia was starting to become more agitated by each second listening to the trio's continued obscene remarks.
The hairs on the back of my neck began to straighten as a chill began to grow in the air.
The smoke she blew grew rapidly into a large cloud that slowly took shape much like fresh clay being manipulated into pots.
The cloud began to take on the shape of a bloated malnourished torso followed by six long slender arms, and a pair of stalky pole-like legs.
Smoky crimson eyes slowly shimmered to life inside a dog-like head.
Sighing, I decided to take care of the whelps so Cynth wouldn't have to belittle herself. I started by bringing Syl's looped arm far behind her back before pushing her into Callum when he turned around.
With those two mildly occupied, a small shadowy sphere formed around my outstretched palm to consume a spear of light to the surprised gaze of the cleric.
His eyes grew wider when I materialized in front of him, and drove my fist through his quickly formed barrier striking his gut.
I was quickly put on the defensive when Marx charged forward narrowly cutting off my leg when attempting to bring my heel across the back of Gabriel's neck.
I kept checking on each party members' position while trying to maneuver Marx through less populated pathways so no one involuntarily got caught in the mix.
As if fights were routine, many bystanders hauled ass far from the upper floor while many more stayed to see the outcome while trying to dodge a few stray attacks.
I parried all of Marx's powerful strikes, but had to dodge out the way when two arrows shot over his head after feinting an upward sweep.
I felt a smile slowly creep to the surface when Syl regained herself, and continued to fire more arrows beside Gabriel as he casted miracles.
My smile grew even wider the moment Callum joined in the fray by kicking me away from Marx when our blades were interlocked making the battle more intense.
The party took the opportunity to strike when my eyes met Cynthia's inquisitive eyes led by a faint glow around Callum's body.
His form was a blur preceding the feeling of two blades overlapping my chest and the delayed wind of swift movement.
Two fireballs prevented me from returning the kind gesture to Callum alongside a furious onslaught provided by Marx.
I could hear ribs shatter inside my chest from fiery orbs exploding with the slightest contact, and the sharp pain of arrows grazing flesh while trying to avoid being cut down.
It all ended when I tried to dodge between Callum and Marx only to discover that folds of cloth were precisely pinned preventing much movement.
I smiled when the duo appeared behind one another on opposing sides with weapons held high singing the thump of my body.
I enjoyed watching their converged dreams a little longer before smiling toward Cynthia as shadows fell from my palm. "Tell me Jackal," she asked while blowing smoke, "how long are they going to be out?"
I had decided to break Callum's feet as he had so much requested to add bitter irony. I answered while eyeing the distraught gazes hearing the loud snaps, "I'd wager at least til the end of the day or so."
"Their wounds however might need longer to heal," I nodded to Syl whose arm was completely twisted in the wrong direction, and Marx who laid in a small pool of his own blood yet still breathed.
Sighing, "At least they're in a deep comatose state, or we'll be hearing them screaming."
The moment I locked eyes with Cynthia was the beginning dreamscape cast upon the party I later came to know as 'Unending Rain' and their end.
Like the dream, I targeted Syl first so that her arrows wouldn't cause much problems, and shattered the limb at the elbow before placing her into a deep slumber cutting off her pained screech.
Gabriel was the next target on my list so he couldn't use any miracles to strengthen his allies, and broke his staff of twisted branches across the side of his head before subduing him as well.
I then turned my focus on Callum as he continued disappearing from place to place making me feel how others do when fighting me.
I managed to bring him down after several slashes to my body by breaking Syl's bow across his chest stunning him long enough to put him asleep.
Marx proved to be the most difficult mainly due to the heavy armor worn.
I didn't bother trying to fight him barehanded nor shattering furniture against him.
The limelight about the situation was that he was somewhat slower than before without Gabriel using body enhancement magic.
Heavily armored enemies are the sole reason why I grew quite fond of misericordes because their thin blades can easily slip between gaps of armor killing an enemy, or end the suffering of an ally already too far gone for healing.
I had to plunge my blade through such gaps several times before he went down allowing Somnum to kick in.
Cynthia shook her head, "I'm surprised you didn't kill them outright."
I shrugged, "The only crime they committed was wasting some ale, and the rest… well you know how things go."
"Anyway," I walked over to a shaking bar maiden and grabbed another flagon of ale from the silver tray she held, "the Archbishop mentioned that the Guildmaster needed to see me."
Cynthia led the way to the remaining building that I hadn't the time nor motive to explore while wasting time in the bar.
Most Guild Halls were just a singular building several stories high and housed everything from private meeting rooms to the Guildmaster's office which was usually located on one of the upper floors.
When I made the observation, Cynth merely stated that the buildings were already here when a representative from Nightwell came to an arrangement with Logallis some odd years ago.
She then told me the loops that the Archbishop made them jump through just to open up the adjoining dock for Guild affairs concerning far off business.
I was surprised when she said that the dock itself has been open for almost a week now yet Logallis continues to watch over them like an unwanted observer.
[(At least I'm not the only one hesitant in having an Adventurers' Guild Hall in my city.)]
"We actually don't mind the space," Cynthia chuckled when we finally reached our destination.
She knocked on the door, "The middle ground is often used for duels or for festivities."
"It's funny," she continued after a medium toned voice called for us to enter, "I never thought I'd return to Astora in a million years let alone be Assistant Guildmaster in a fairly new Hall."
[(You're not the only one that can't believe they're here. Never wanted to step foot in Elven country yet here I am.)]
Cynthia gave a small bow once we were inside, "I've brought him, Guildmaster."
The man turned from the large window to face me as Cynth made her way to stand by his side allowing his defined arm to surround her waist.
A white button down shirt unbuttoned at the top stretched comfortably across a slim yet well-defined chest underneath a suave herringbone patterned brown vest overlapped by a teal jacket laced in dull orange accents.
Golden cufflinks hold folded back sleeves allowing white gloved hands the full motion needed while a small thin silver chain hung loosely from the right breast pocket before disappearing into the accompanied coat pocket.
Combed graying hair shimmered in the sunlight giving somewhat dulling blue eyes a faint life to them.
The man still carried himself like some Lord though he looked to be middle aged - around forty if one had to guess.
I scoffed, "Why am I not surprised that you're this branch's Guildmaster?"
The man chuckled, "Cynthia should've been a dead give away, Jackal."
I shrugged and went over to where a glass bottle of what looked like brandy sat next to two crystal glasses. "Tell me Andrew," I poured myself a glass and downed it, "how's the scar treating you?"
Andrew Floyd VonBrood was the man's name, and one of the people that thought my rise in rankings were nothing but a fluke.
Unlike others, I held some respect for him after he willingly chose to fight alongside me during a battle with the Dākog ogre brothers some time ago even though seriously injured.
We had moments where the three of us - Cynthia included - had butted heads as aspiring adventurers do yet there was some form of trust forged with each occasion.
The last time I saw the duo was on an island colony near the south of Vusta when a Tribal Chief came begging for help clearing a precious cave system.
It was also the last time Andrew and I fought resulting in a three day battle that ended in a well deserved draw.
He raised his free hand up over the scar cutting through the left corner of his lips. "To tell you the truth," he nodded to the seats in front of the wooden desk, "it tingles whenever your name is mentioned."
I smiled as he took the seat beside him while Cynthia sat on the arm. I wasted no time getting to the point when he calmly eyed me, "I know that the two of you didn't save me from a room full of full-bloods just for simple pleasantries."
"No offense Cynth," I smiled apologetically.
She returned my smile, "Trust me Jackal, I know how full-bloods are even toward their own."
Andrew cleared his throat, "Your assumption is still spot on as ever."
He let out a sigh and leaned forward with hands clasped below his chin, "About a month ago, a contract came in asking for your assistance personally."
"Instinctively," he handed me a rolled parchment containing the contract itself, "we placed it somewhere to be forgotten in hopes that none of the imposters claiming your name get mixed up in something above their status."
I tried to understand why they simply didn't send it to Siegfried's Guild Hall nor why they brought the contract to light after so much trouble, "Why bring this up now?"
Cynthia spoke as I began reading the parchment, "A few weeks ago, an emissary of the contractor came wanting answers as to why nothing had been done."
"Afterwards," Andrew pulled a silver flask from his coat, "we were forced to oblige the contract."
I looked finished reading the parameters of the gig, "It sounds like a simple retrieval job that any adventurer rated Estriorium plate or up can handle. Why send for me?"
Cynthia answered, "We did send a party to investigate any leads despite the disapproval of the Archbishop however they haven't been heard from for a week now."
"Two days before their disappearance," Andrew continued, "we received an encrypted message from the party that once deciphered stating a possible lead near the Upper Astora bridge."
There was a soft rasp on the door to which Cynthia made the short distance to see who it was while Andrew continued giving the details.
I listened to the doorknob twisting before Cynthia calmly invited the guest in, and the sound of twisting twigs canopied by shallow grunts.
I was quite surprised when Andrew shot up to a standing position almost out of fear as the leading two footsteps stopped just meters behind me.
My puzzlement continued to grow when he bowed respectfully to the new guest who I assumed was some noble.
Shaking my head, I rose to my feet, and began to straighten the creases of my coat when an objective limb wrapped my shoulder only to be removed soon after with a cold gaze.
I found a woman with long brown black hair dressed in a silk black dress standing at the center of four man sized ents wielding serrated spears. "My, my," I tilted my head at Andrew, "making deals with a Faye now are we?"
The ent that had its hand on my shoulder raised its spear of twisting branches between me and the winged woman when I moved from my seat. I ignored its gibberish and turned to Andrew, "Let me guess, that emissary was working for this particular Faye."
Cynthia nodded, "Aye, you'd be correct Jackal."
I chuckled, "And here I thought humans knew better when dealing with such things."
I watched the woman soar over to Andrew and began leading him back down to his seat. Her voice was filled with agitation, "You dirty lying sniveling piece of shit!! For months now, you've done nothing to even attempt to find them!!!"
"Then," the Faye turned her back on Andrew with her arms crossed while still hovering in mid air, "I send an emissary to see if anything was actually done only to find that the contract was ignored completely!!!"
She turned on Cynth who was standing at the middle of the far wall. The Faye hovered above her, "Now when I came here today to see what is going on, I soon find out that there's two Jackals in Sangroth yet neither are doing anything!!!"
I made my way to the brandy bottle once more waiting to hear both Guildmasters' explanations to get out of this situation.
As I listened to their poor attempts to persuade the winged woman, my mind began to imagine just who or what would cause one of the mysterious Faye to come out of hiding.
Faye were typically forest spirits that often help tend to the forests of Aquera alongside dryads yet carried a higher social standing.
That being said, no one has ever seen a Faye up close to really say what they often looked like or wore.
Some believe that Faye are the ancestors of the fairy race while others say that they are a whole other species.
Two curving horns that resembled those of a goat stretched from the woman's temples like some crown of sorts.
I remember reading several books that depicted the ever evasive Faye mention that they are often called dämon based upon some of their appearances depicted.
To see one up close was quite exciting for me though I remained calm knowing what strength just one might possess.
I soon found myself looking between the four warriors made from tree limbs and leaf litter that stared back from darkened eyes.
If I recall right, the four were a subspecies of ent known as Llethadian.
[(Honestly, why am I here? I could be in Penumbra watching Isho tame her first beast, or delegating with Nyxis. Instead I'm here watching a grown man be talked down by a horned fairy.)]
I quickly downed the rest of my brandy and decided that I've spent enough time chatting for the day. "Since I seem to be interrupting something of importance," I made my way to the door as I felt Isho and several others entering the Hunting Grounds, "I shall see myself out."
My way was soon blocked by the two Llethadians who stayed by the door. I moved my eyes between the two, "You know what I see in your futures?"
I held out my hand with the palm pointed upward and formed a black blaze, "I see fresh kindling for a nice warm fire if you don't get out of my way."
"You," the Faye flew between me and her entourage of gathered sticks, "will do nothing of the sort, Imposter!."
I smiled coldly at the faint crimson of my eye coloring her soft skin, "Imposter you say?"
"Lady Iridessa," Cynthia spoke in a soft tone, "we can assure you that the man standing before you is the real Jackal."
I saw her rest her right arm on the left and wrap her chin as if in thought, "Or was it some other hooded delinquent?"
[(Joking at a time like this? Never change do you Cynth?)]
I smiled at Cynthia's demented joke meant to drive the Faye a bit crazed, "I've got a more important matter than dealing with a retrieval quest."
I watched the Faye woman soar over to Cynth and proceeded to complain. With a gesture of farewell, "So if you'll excus–"
"Jackal," Andrew shouted out my name.
I turned almost instinctively and found that his eyes were like that of a defeated man unlike the one I know. He took his seat and took a deep breath before speaking, "Our son was among the party that went missing."
"I-," Andrew stifled some tears, "it has been almost four days since we've last heard from him or seen any of his friends."
Cynthia spoke when Andrew went utterly silent, "They were each determined to prove themselves to the Guild and show that they had the mettle to rise through the ranks just like their role model."
"Me?" I asked with absolute confusion.
Cynthia nodded, "Our son Elijah was the most determined to follow in your footsteps, Jackal. He wanted nothing more but for you to know his name and stand as an equal."
Shaking my head, "Please tell me you tried to dissuade them from looking at me in such a light?"
Cynthia sighed, "We tried on multiple occasions Jackal."
Andrew nodded when I turned to him, "Neither of them would listen even when we told them how most people perceive you."
I followed the Faye and took the last available seat, "And that's why they've gone missing."
I flashed a small defeated smile, "Now you both have your answer to why I stopped at Silver."
Cynthia spoke after the three of us sat in silence while the Faye looked on, "Will you accept?"
"Aye," I wasted no time answering, "since I'm partially to blame."
"That being said," I turned my attention to Iridessa, "I need to know every last detail of the job."
The next hour was spent listening to Iridessa recount the days leading to her decision to involve the Guild in what the Council Evergreen - those who govern the laws of the forests - would consider treason.
She spoke of days spent with her child caring for little saplings that would one day be mighty oaks or tending to the ailments of the wildlife.
Her tone changed to one of sadness and regret when blaming herself for what happened next.
According to her, the Council Evergreen was aware of rumors pertaining to disappearances of their own yet considered them as such.
A grave mistake that resulted in many beasts abducted alongside several Faye including Iridessa's child.
Iridessa continued to explain that her and several other Faye were drawn to a thick plume of smoke coming from within the large forests of lower Astora.
They scrambled to save what they could only to further find themselves in a trap meant for them specifically.
She spoke of friends being captured, and the smell of blood flooding her nostrils.
The sight of her own daughter allowing herself to be caught so that she may be spared alongside a few others wounded during the struggle.
Her pleas to chase after those responsible were refused by the Council Evergreen after one captive confessed to their intentions to sell those caught within Sangroth.
I didn't say anything as I pondered to myself as Cynthia handed Iridessa something to dry her eyes. I muttered mainly to myself, "Everyone knows that spirits of the forests and Merfolk are protected from the confines of slavery in any kingdom."
"Then again," I acknowledged my own stupidity, "that's what makes them more valuable than most."
"Aye," Iridessa muttered.
She leaned forward and took the cup of brandy from Cynth, "Most of my people can't sleep at night for fear of being taken away."
She downed the drink and let out a sigh, "I've seen so many others brought to ruins by those damnable elves and humans!"
She continued when Cynth and Andrew smiled feebly at her apologetic gaze, "My sisters, my brothers, and now my daughter has been taken away from me over the years."
Throughout her tearful notion, her shadow not once quivered nor Andrew's shutter when I silently grabbed hold of it as he, and Cynth continued where they left off.
I knew that each was telling me the truth, or what they thought was truthful yet none of their qualms were my concern.
I watched as Iridessa lash out at Andrew while hovering over him, and knew how hard Cynthia was struggling to hold herself back from attacking the pain stricken Faye.
Elijah and his friends were foolish enough to consider me a role model only to find themselves abducted, or far worse.
Second thoughts clouded my judgement yet cleared upon realization that I knew how such things operated through times spent at the secret markets Alabasta attended.
[(Neither one seems to be the kind of person that willingly begs.)]
Shadowy tendrils erupted from the desk and formed a wall between the three grieving parents. My voice was calm yet stern when the wall faded away, "I have conditions..."
My eyes gazed from each one before falling on Andrew, "As payment, I want any who are currently using my name to be expunged from the Guild."
I turned my attention to Cynth, "I want all Guild Halls to enact this rule starting immediately."
I finally faced Iridessa, "And... I want to meet with the Council Evergreen."