Upon reaching the Town Hall, Alex was taken aback by its sheer magnificence. Unlike the other structures he had seen while navigating through the town, the Town Hall was a testament to architectural grandeur and historical significance.
The building stood majestically at the heart of the town, its presence commanding attention. It was constructed of fine, cream-colored stone that shimmered gently in the sunlight, giving it an almost ethereal quality. Towering high, the building had multiple levels, each adorned with intricately carved arches and grand windows. The windows were fitted with stained glass, depicting various scenes of historical events and legendary figures of the realm.
The roof of the Town Hall was an impressive sight, made of tiles that had been glazed in a deep, royal blue, creating a stark yet harmonious contrast with the cream-colored walls. At the very top of the building, a flag fluttered proudly in the breeze. It bore the emblem of a dire wolf, identical to the symbol on the guard's armor Alex had encountered at the gate. The emblem was woven in silver thread against a backdrop of deep crimson, symbolizing strength and vigilance.
Upon closer inspection, Alex noticed the fine details that adorned the building's exterior. The walls were etched with carvings that seemed to tell a story, each line meticulously crafted to portray the rich history and culture of the town. Scenes of past battles, mythical creatures, and legendary heroes were immortalized in stone, a tribute to the town's heritage.
After admiring the grandeur of the Town Hall, Alex joined the line leading to the reception desk. The people ahead of him were engaged in various discussions with the officials, each conversation a snippet of the town's vibrant life.
Finally, it was his turn. The receptionist, a man dressed in a professional suit, had small horns that subtly protruded just above his hairline, hinting at the diverse nature of the town's inhabitants. His demeanor was courteous, yet his expression shifted to one of mild confusion as he regarded Alex.
"Good day, how may I assist you?" the receptionist inquired, his gaze still carrying a hint of curiosity.
"I need identification documentation," Alex replied, "I'm new here and was advised to get documented at the Town Hall."
The receptionist nodded, his fingers poised over a ledger. "Of course, but what kind of identification are you looking for? We have several types based on one's profession or purpose in the town. For instance, we offer trading licenses, hunting permits, residency certificates, among others."
Alex was momentarily taken aback by the array of options. He hadn't anticipated the complexity of the documentation process. Reflecting on his skills and the system's hint at his potential for hunting, he responded, "I would like to have the hunting one, please."
"Very well," the receptionist said as he began filling out the necessary paperwork. "The hunting documentation will grant you access to hunting grounds and the right to sell any game or materials you collect. It's a choice well-suited for those skilled in survival and tracking."
The receptionist told Alex that the hunting guild will test his abilities and go into he processes for ranks.
After completing the paperwork at the reception desk of the Town Hall, Alex received his hunting license. He took a moment to examine it closely, intrigued by its design and the craftsmanship that had gone into it.
The license was unlike any identification he had seen before. Roughly the size and shape of a credit card, it was made from a sturdy, slightly luminescent material that felt smooth to the touch. The surface of the card was adorned with intricate symbols and runes, each etched with precision, shimmering faintly as they caught the light. These markings, Alex surmised, were likely imbued with some form of magic, perhaps to verify authenticity or provide additional information when needed.
Prominently displayed at the center of the card was the emblem of the dire wolf, the same symbol he had seen on the guard's armor and the Town Hall flag. The wolf was rendered in exquisite detail, its form etched deeply into the material of the card, giving it a sense of depth and texture. Its eyes seemed to glint with a life-like quality, adding to the card's enigmatic allure.
Around the edges of the license, a delicate border of smaller runes and symbols completed the design, each likely serving a purpose in the magical world Alex was beginning to navigate.
Flipping the card over, he found his name and the date of issuance inscribed, along with a few other details pertinent to his new status as a licensed hunter. The back of the card was more utilitarian in design but still bore the careful artistry evident on the front.
Tucking the license safely into his pocket, Alex felt a sense of officiality to his presence in the town. The license was not only a practical item but also a piece of art, reflecting the cultural richness and magical essence of this new world.
As Alex navigated through the bustling streets of the town, his attention was drawn to a commotion nearby. A large crowd had gathered, forming a circle around something, or someone, that seemed to have captivated their attention. Curiosity piqued, Alex decided to investigate, weaving his way through the onlookers.
Store owners and passersby alike had paused their activities to watch the unfolding scene. Alex, pushing his way gently through the crowd, finally caught sight of what had caused the stir. In the center of the circle stood a young man, around Alex's age, but his appearance was strikingly different. He was clad in what could only be described as opulent attire, with gold threads woven into his clothing and an array of glittering jewelry adorning his person.
However, it wasn't just the man's lavish dress that caught Alex's eye, but his actions. He stood towering over an elderly man, his voice raised in a tirade of insults. The rich man's words were harsh, berating the older man for his apparent poverty and suggesting he didn't deserve to breathe the same air as those more fortunate.
A wave of anger washed over Alex. The scene before him was uncomfortably reminiscent of the injustices he had witnessed in his past life. He was about to turn away, unwilling to be part of such an unpleasant spectacle, when suddenly he felt a firm push from behind.
Stumbling forward into the circle, Alex quickly regained his balance and turned to see who had pushed him, but all he saw was the back of a cloak disappearing into the crowd.
Now in the center of the circle, Alex found himself face-to-face with the wealthy young man. The rich man's expression shifted from one of contempt for the elderly man to one of surprise and confusion at Alex's sudden appearance.
Their eyes locked for a moment, the rich man's shock evident in his gaze. The crowd's murmurs grew louder, their attention now fixed on this unexpected turn of events.
Alex stood there, momentarily unsure how to react. The situation had escalated quickly, and now he found himself an unwilling participant in this public drama.
In the brief silence that followed Alex's unexpected entrance into the circle, the rich man's face morphed from shock to a look of anger and repulsion. His eyes scanned Alex, taking in his appearance with visible disdain.
Alex was dressed simply, his clothes practical for travel and not meant for impressing onlookers in a bustling town. To the rich man, however, Alex's attire seemed exaggeratedly plain and shabby. His well-worn boots, dusty from the road, and his plain tunic and trousers appeared starkly out of place amidst the town's vibrancy. His cloak, though functional, lacked any semblance of the opulence that adorned the rich man.
Before Alex could turn to leave, the rich man stepped forward, blocking his path. "And just who do you think you are, stepping forward like that? Do you have any idea who I am?" he demanded, his voice laced with arrogance.
Alex, wanting to avoid further confrontation, turned back around and offered a conciliatory apology. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude. I'm from a faraway land and still unfamiliar with the customs here," he explained, hoping to defuse the situation.
The rich man seemed ready to dismiss Alex with a wave of his hand, but something caught his eye. He looked down and noticed the dragon tattoo on Alex's arm, partially visible beneath the sleeve of his tunic. The intricacy of the design and the way it seemed to shimmer with a life of its own piqued his curiosity, a stark contrast to his initial impression of Alex.
"What is that on your arm?" the rich man asked, his tone shifting from disdain to intrigue. "I've never seen anything quite like it."
The crowd, still gathered around, murmured and craned their necks to catch a glimpse of the tattoo that had captured the rich man's attention. Alex, now the center of curiosity, felt a mix of unease and a reluctant sense of pride. The dragon tattoo, a symbol of his newfound identity and strength, was now drawing unexpected attention in this strange new world.