"There's a city administrator two buildings over," said Kell, taking the lead. "They can do the whole process there."
"Will it take long?" asked Roran.
"No, they're pretty quick about it, especially if you bribe them."
"We're low on money Kell," said Nul.
They reached the stairs and began descending.
"I know I know, I'll go fight in some real matches soon."
"You said that a month ago."
"I mean it this time. You can even start putting my focus markings back on once we get home, deal?"
"I'm holding you to that," said Nul.
"You put focus markings on people?" asked Roran.
Nul nodded. "It's why Kell keeps me around."
"That's not true, I also keep you around because you can cook!"
Rolling their eyes, Nul said, "I can't cook, I can just make a meal without burning the building down."
"That's better than I can do," said Kell grinning.
They reached the bottom of the stairs and Kell took off without waiting for Roran or Nul to catch up. She headed through an attached hallway and into the maze of buildings and shops beyond.
"Don't worry," said Nul, "I know the way."
"Is she always this energetic?" asked Roran.
"No, she's normally worse. Just wait until she's had a good fight or two."
Chasing after Kell, Roran and Nul passed through a handful of buildings until they came to a long, dark hallway with a series of uniform doors. Kell was waiting by one, tapping her foot.
"By the gods you two are slow. Come on, I've already paid this clerk off, he'll make the medallion now."
Following Kell into the room, Roran found himself in a small workshop. It was the size of a small bedroom and well lit. A table with a myriad of tools was pushed up against the wall and an easel with a pad of paper sat next to it. Beside the easel was a middle aged clerk with a shaved head and droopy eyebrows.
"This him?" asked the clerk.
"Yup," said Kell. "He's dungeon fodder but I'll vouch for him and pay the fees."
"Has he been granted worker's rights by a regent or accredited sponsor?" asked the clerk.
"Oh, right." Kell dropped a handful of coins onto the work table.
"Accepting bribes is amoral and against regulations," said the clerk.
"Ugh, fine." Kell dropped a couple more coins onto the table.
"The application process is quite time consuming. Letting someone jump ahead and receive their medallion is unethical at best."
"Oh gods, fine!" Kell produced a shiny, golden coin and tossed it on the table. It landed with a heavy thunk that made Nul flinch.
"I suppose," began the clerk, his hand reaching out for the pile of coins, "that feats of heroism in the Crucible, and sponsorship from a prestigious champion, will be enough to grant him gladiator's rights." He scooped the coins into his hand and tucked them away in his robe. "Normally the approval process takes a while but it appears that I have a little spare time to do a medallion."
Kell rolled her eyes while Nul buried their face in their hands. "You can't keep spending money like this..."
"Sit down young man," said the clerk, gesturing to a stool. Roran did as he was told and the clerk picked up a thin piece of charcoal. "Please hold as still as possible. I am good but if you move around too much I will make mistakes."
With a deft hand, the clerk began sketching out Roran's face on the pad of paper. He moved quickly, drawing a sharp outline before gently filling in the details. Doing his best to stay perfectly still, Roran watched the clerk in amazement. In seconds his face appeared on the paper. As seconds turned into minutes, the face became more detailed and life-like, becoming more and more like a reflection rather than a sketch.
The clerk was fast, but as he added more and more detail, Roran became restless. His back ached from keeping good posture and his nose started twitching. Roran flared his nostrils, trying to ignore the itch, but it was persistent.
"Stop fidgeting," said the clerk, "almost done." The clerk added in a couple of lines to Roran's mouth and cheeks, and feathered in his eyebrows before saying, "Done, you can move now."
Roran groaned in relief as he slouched and scratched his nose. The clerk ignored him, taking the immaculate sketch and tearing it from the pad. He placed it onto the table and began organizing his tools. He spoke as he worked.
"Being a gladiator, you will have access to the arenas and be able to come and go as you please. You will not, however, be able to leave the city or enter any military areas." He settled a large, crystal pyramid overtop of the sketch and extended his hand. "Favors please."
Kell handed him two shimmering favors.
The clerk settled one of them on top of the pyramid. He placed a stone on top of the favor and said, "Mind your eyes." The stone flared to life, filling the room with light and heat. After a few moments, the stone dimmed to a low glow. The clerk took the second favor and settled it into a large press. He began sorting through a collection of metal stamps.
"Name?" he asked.
"Roran."
"Surname?"
Roran hesitated. "Aurandale."
The clerk pulled out a series of stamps and settled them into the press. Once everything was set, the clerk pulled a lever and the favor was stamped with a series of new markings. Moving back to the glowing stone, the clerk removed it from the pyramid. Picking up the favor, he held it up towards Roran, examining it.
"This should do nicely. If you get any prominent scars or have any permanent changes made to your face, be sure to have a new medallion made."
Taking both favors, the clerk slid them into a large vice. Using a small crank wheel, the clerk began closing the vice, smashing the two favors together. He kept going until he could no longer turn the crank, then began spinning it the other direction. After a few cranks, a shimmering blue medallion fell out of the vice. The clerk scooped it up and handed it to Roran.
"Remember," he said, "It takes time and money to replace these, so don't lose it."
Holding it up to the light, Roran examined his marker medallion. On one side was an etching of his face in perfect detail, on the other were a series of markings he didn't understand.
"The symbols on the outer ridge denote your rights and where you are allowed to go. The symbols on the face are phonetic symbols that we use to spell out names."
Roran nodded. He ran his thumb across the medallion. The symbols were bumpy and rigid while his portrait was perfectly smooth.
"And don't let anyone try to scam you into letting them alter it. Favors can only be altered by our special equipment."
"Why's that," asked Roran, his natural curiosity coming out.
"Our equipment is made from the same material as the favors. It's the only thing that can alter them without ruining the metal. Anything else will stain the metal."
"Awesome," said Kell, "anything else or can we go?"
As Roran rose to his feet, the clerk said, "Just don't let anyone else get their hands on it, unless of course they want to be arrested. Most people have enough common sense to avoid that but you never know with dungeon fodder.
Roran nodded and slipped the medallion into his pocket. If nothing else, this alone could not fall into Murrin's hands.