The Adventurer's Guild of E-Rantel stood as a beacon for those seeking fame, fortune, or a quick death. It was a place where strength was the only currency that truly mattered.
Reinhard reached for the heavy wooden door, holding it open with a practiced grace.
"After you, Lady Felt."
Felt adjusted her ragged scarf, threw her shoulders back, and strutted inside like she owned the place. Reinhard followed a step behind, his white uniform and red hair catching the dim light of the tavern-like interior.
The noise of the guild hall, a mix of boisterous laughter, clanking tankards, and shouting, dipped noticeably as they entered.
Dozens of eyes turned toward them. Some were curious, but most were derisive.
To the hardened veterans of E-Rantel, the pair looked ridiculous. A little girl in ragged clothes and a man who looked like he had just walked out of a royal ball.
"Another one?" a man seated near the door sneered, swirling his cheap ale. He wore scarred leather armor and had a face that looked like it had lost an argument with a mace.
"They think this is a game, don't they?" his companion laughed, spitting on the floor. "Look at him. Looks like a mommy boy."
"Another noble kid playing hero," a third voice joined in from a nearby table. "He'll be crying for his mommy after he sees his first goblin. And look at the brat he brought with him! Is that his squire? Hah!"
Laughter rippled through the room. It was a hazing ritual, a test of nerves.
Reinhard didn't even blink. He walked through the jeers as if he were strolling through a garden, his expression serene. He didn't offer them a glance of contempt or fear; he simply didn't register their insults as important.
Felt, on the other hand, was memorizing faces. Her red eyes darted from table to table, marking every man who laughed. 'Big nose... scar face... missing tooth...' she cataloged them.
They reached the reception counter. Behind it stood a young woman who looked perpetually tired. She looked up, ready to give her usual rehearsed greeting, but stopped when her eyes landed on Reinhard.
She blinked. In a room full of men who smelled of sweat, blood, and cheap alcohol, Reinhard was stunning. Handsome didn't quite cover it; he was aesthetically perfect.
"W-Welcome to the Adventurer's Guild," she stammered, recovering her professionalism quickly. 'Another noble,' she thought wearily. 'Great. He's probably going to demand special treatment.'
"What can I help you with?" she asked, bracing herself for arrogance.
"We want to register as adventurers," Felt announced, slamming her hand on the counter. "Both of us."
The receptionist blinked, looking down at the small girl. She hadn't expected the child to be the one doing the talking.
"Of course," she said automatically. She bent down and retrieved two sheets of parchment. "Please fill out these forms with your name, age, and job specialization. There is also a registration fee of one silver coin per person. Once you are done, I will process your plates."
Felt stared at the paper. She stared at the squiggles of ink.
Then she looked up at Reinhard.
"Hey," she hissed. "I can't read this gibberish. It's totally different from home."
Reinhard smiled gently. "Allow me, Lady Felt."
He reached for the quill the receptionist offered.
"However," Reinhard continued, his voice lowering slightly. "As I mentioned before, I do not have a, "
"I have it," Felt cut him off. She dug into her pocket and produced two silver coins, slapping them onto the wood.
Reinhard looked at the coins. "Lady Felt... those are..."
"Don't start," she snapped, glaring at him. "Yes, I stole them. What else was I supposed to do? Starve? I've been here for three days!"
"I... didn't say anything," Reinhard said innocently.
"Well, you were about to!" Felt huffed, crossing her arms. "Your face gets that 'look' when you're about to lecture me. Keep it to yourself. Just fill out the forms. Wait... you can read this?"
"I have the blessing of Language," Reinhard explained simply as he began to write. "I can read and speak any language."
Felt rolled her eyes so hard it looked painful. "Of course you do. Why am I even surprised? Fine, write it."
Reinhard filled out the forms with elegant, flowing handwriting that made the receptionist raise an eyebrow.
Name: Reinhard van Astrea.
Age: 19.
Job: Swordsman.
Name: Felt.
Age: 15.
Job: Scout.
He slid the papers back. The receptionist scanned them, impressed by the penmanship. 'Definitely a high-born noble,' she thought.
"What did you put for me?" Felt asked suspiciously.
"The usual," Reinhard replied. "Name, age, and your specialization. I put 'Scout'."
"Scout?" Felt wrinkled her nose. "Sounds boring. But fine, whatever."
The receptionist gathered the forms and the silver coins. She reached under the counter and pulled out two necklaces. Hanging from each was a simple, dull metal plate.
"Registration is complete," she said, placing the necklaces on the counter. "Everyone starts at Copper Plate. It is the lowest rank. You can raise your party rank by completing quests and gaining reputation."
Felt picked up the plate, looking at it with disdain. "Wait. Copper? That means we can only take the trash quests, right? Like finding lost cats or something?"
She pointed a thumb at Reinhard. "This guy is strong. Like, really strong. Can't we take a test or something to skip to the good stuff? We need money, not chump change."
The receptionist sighed. She heard this every day. "I am sorry, but new adventurers must start at Copper. It is Guild policy to ensure safety. I cannot make exceptions."
Reinhard stepped in before Felt could argue further. He picked up his plate and tied it around his neck with a smile.
"It is no problem at all," he said cheerfully. "Thank you for your assistance. Lady Felt you shouldn't scare someone, we should simply complete the quests diligently. If we work hard, we shall rise through the ranks in no time."
Felt groaned, snatching her plate. "What?! I didn't scared anyone… Ugh. Fine. But if I have to chase a cat, you're doing the running."
"Understood," Reinhard agreed.
….
A/N: Don't forget to comment and power stones…