Reibar and Hamira stepped out of the cozy inn, their eyes widening as the bustling streets of Crownspire unfolded before them. It was unlike anything they had ever seen.
The city seemed alive, its wide, cobblestone streets teeming with people from every walk of life. Merchants called out, their colorful stalls laden with exotic goods, and children darted between the crowds, their laughter mingling with the clatter of horses' hooves and the creak of wooden carts. Towering over it all were the grand, medieval-style buildings—crafted from stone and wood, with high-arched windows and intricate carvings that spoke of centuries of history.
Above the chaos of the outer city, the inner walls loomed, built from pale, gleaming stone that seemed to shine under the sun. Beyond those walls, the palace rose like a dream, its many spires piercing the sky. It was massive, visible no matter where one stood in the city. Reibar could barely keep his jaw from dropping.
"This… this is incredible," he muttered, running a hand through his dark hair. "I've never seen anything like it."
Hamira nodded, her bright eyes darting around as if trying to take in every detail at once. "It's so… big! You could live here your whole life and still not see it all."
The enormity of Crownspire was overwhelming. The outer city was home to merchants and commoners, its streets noisy but filled with a sense of warmth and community. Beyond the inner walls, the air grew quieter, more refined. That was where the nobles lived, alongside the wealthiest merchants, in stately manors with private gardens. Reibar and Hamira could only imagine the life behind those walls—luxury, splendor, and power concentrated in the shadow of the palace itself.
Even with its grandeur, there was a surprising peace to the city. The towering walls that encircled it, both outer and inner, seemed to promise protection from any danger that might arise in this magical world. Crownspire wasn't just a city; it was a symbol of the empire's strength and harmony.
As they walked deeper into the lively streets, the overwhelming majesty of Crownspire stayed with them. This city, the beating heart of the Martlock Empire, was like nothing they had imagined. And they hadn't even scratched the surface of its wonders.
Reibar's gaze lingered on the grand streets of Crownspire, but his mind was elsewhere. As much as he wanted to get lost in the city's splendor, he knew time wasn't on his side. Draven was likely fuming by now, and if there was one thing Reibar had learned, it was that an angry demon was a dangerous demon. He needed to act, and fast.
Still, there was some solace in knowing that secrecy among demons was paramount. Even if they crossed paths with one here in the capital, it was unlikely they would recognize Hamira. The only reason Draven's brother had found them earlier was sheer bad luck. Terrible luck, Reibar mused, shaking his head.
He glanced at Hamira, who was marveling at the bustling stalls and vibrant streets. She was trying to soak in every bit of the city, and he couldn't blame her. The capital had a charm that could make anyone forget their troubles, even if just for a moment. Reibar allowed himself a small smile. He already had a plan—one inspired by Lucien's wild, mind-blowing idea. It was risky, but it was their best shot.
But before he put anything into motion, Reibar had another priority. He wanted to deepen Hamira's trust.
he knew that loyalty was a fragile thing, especially when it came to their dangerous journey. If he wanted her to stand with him in what was to come, he had to make her feel like they were in this together.
"Come on," he said, nudging her arm. "Let's check out some of these stalls. You can't say you've really been to Crownspire until you've tasted the food and seen what the merchants have to offer."
Hamira blinked at him, surprised. "Don't you have more important things to do?"
Reibar grinned, his tone light but his intentions clear. "We do. But trust me, this is important too."
He led her through the maze of stalls, stopping at one that sold steaming skewers of spiced meat and another where a wizened old woman offered delicate glass trinkets that shimmered like rainbows. Hamira hesitated at first, clearly wary, but soon she was drawn in by the lively chatter of the merchants and the tempting scents that wafted through the air.
Reibar watched her, his grin softening into something genuine. He wasn't just doing this for show—he wanted to enjoy this moment, to share this experience. Crownspire might have been a city of grandeur and power, but it also had a heartbeat, a soul. He could feel it in the laughter of the children, the haggling of merchants, and the warmth of the people.
As Hamira tried a sweet pastry stuffed with some kind of spiced fruit, her eyes widened in delight.
"This is amazing!" she said, her voice muffled by the pastry.
Reibar chuckled. "Told you."
He let her savor the moment but kept his mind focused. Soon, they'd have to face the storm waiting for them. Draven wasn't going to sit idle, and Reibar's plan would need precision and guts. But for now, in the heart of the capital, they had this—just a fleeting moment of peace before the chaos resumed.
Their next stop was adventurer guild.
The Adventurer's Guild in Crownspire was a whole different world compared to the modest setup back in Willowfield. Here, the atmosphere buzzed with energy, confidence, and a hint of danger. The moment Reibar and Hamira stepped through the heavy oak doors, they were greeted by a lively scene, tables filled with adventurers sharing stories over mugs of ale, armored warriors comparing weapons, and even a mage showing off a minor spell to a curious onlooker.
Unlike Willowfield, where adventurers were mostly inexperienced or small-town hopefuls, this place was filled with seasoned fighters. The guild wasn't just a building; it was a hub, almost like a private tavern exclusive to adventurers.
"Quite the place, huh?" reibar said with a smirk.
At the far end of the hall, several large billboards dominated the space. The boards were divided by bold, metallic labels, each representing a rank: F, E, D, C, B, A, and a shining golden board at the top with an imposing S. Adventurers crowded around the lower-ranked boards, scanning the quests, while only a few stood near the upper ones.
"Those must be where the real money is," Reibar muttered, eyeing the golden board.
Hamira raised an eyebrow. "Real danger too, I bet."
Reibar shrugged. "That's what makes it fun."
They approached the counter, manned by a sharp-eyed clerk who looked more like a seasoned warrior than a receptionist. "New registrations?" the clerk asked, giving them a quick once-over.
Reibar nodded. "Yeah, we're looking to join."
The clerk motioned for an attendant, who escorted them through a side door to the guild's backyard. It was a wide, open space, surrounded by tall stone walls to ensure privacy. A handful of adventurers sparred in one corner, while others practiced archery or spellcasting.
"Wait here," the attendant said curtly before leaving them.
Reibar and Hamira exchanged a glance. "Do you think they'll let us in without much fuss?" Hamira asked.
"Depends on how convincing we are," Reibar replied. "Just show them what you've got. ofcourse dont turn them into zombies"
A few minutes later, an old man emerged from one of the side doors. His long white beard gave him a wise and grandfatherly look, but his sharp eyes and the way he carried himself spoke of experience and authority. He wore a simple but well-tailored tunic, with a pendant shaped like the guild's crest hanging around his neck.
"I hear you two want to join," the man said, his voice calm but firm.
"That's right," Reibar said, standing straighter.
The old man nodded. "I'm Marthen. I'll be your examiner. If you want to register, you'll need to prove you've got what it takes. The guild doesn't hand out ranks for free—your skills determine the rank you'll start at. Higher ranks mean access to more dangerous and rewarding quests."
He gestured to the sparring area. "Show me what you can do. Both of you."
Reibar glanced at Hamira, then back at Marthen, his confidence unwavering. "Alright. Let's get started."