The Guild Hall. Morning.
The notice had been posted for a week.
Wanted: Guild Secretary. Front Desk Assistant. Must be organized, discreet, and not afraid of monsters.
Fifty people applied.
Grog stared at the stack of papers on the table. "Fifty?"
Lira shrugged. "Word travels fast."
"The guild has been open for two months."
"The guild has been making money for two months." Lira picked up the first application. "People want to be part of that."
Grog sat behind the table. He had cleared the great hall for the interviews—benches pushed aside, a single chair facing him. Lira sat beside him, her bow across her knees. Ken leaned against the wall, watching the door.
"Send in the first one," Grog said.
---
Candidate One: A Retired Soldier
He was old. Gray-haired, limping, his left arm ending in a hook.
Name: Garret.
Experience: Thirty years in the Duke's army. Retired after losing his hand to a Vargr axe.
"I can keep books," Garret said. "I can manage supplies. I can yell at adventurers when they get out of line."
Grog studied him. "Can you write?"
Garret looked offended. "Of course I can write."
"Show me."
Garret picked up a quill. Scratched out a sentence. The letters were large, blocky, readable.
Grog nodded. "The secretary position requires patience."
"I've dealt with recruits for thirty years. I have plenty of patience."
Grog looked at Lira. Lira nodded.
"You're on the list," Grog said.
---
Candidate Two: A Young Scholar
She was young. Eighteen, maybe. Glasses, ink stains on her fingers, a book tucked under her arm.
Name: Grace.
Experience: Studied at the capital's academy for two years. Left to care for her sick mother. Mother was better now.
"I can keep detailed records," Grace said. "I speak three languages. I can translate old texts. I'm organized, efficient, and I don't scare easily."
Grog raised an eyebrow. "Don't scare easily?"
Grace met his eyes. "I've seen a monster. Up close. It didn't kill me."
"What happened?"
"I ran."
Grog almost smiled. Almost. "The secretary position is mostly paperwork."
"I'm good at paperwork."
"The front desk requires dealing with adventurers. Drunk adventurers. Angry adventurers. Adventurers who just lost friends."
Grace nodded. "I've dealt with worse."
"Like what?"
"My mother, when she's off her medicine."
Grog looked at Lira. Lira was trying not to laugh.
"You're on the list," Grog said.
---
Candidate Three: A Loud Merchant
He was loud. His voice filled the hall before he even sat down.
Name: Bertrand.
Experience: Ran a trading post for twenty years. Sold everything from dried fish to enchanted swords.
"I know money," Bertrand said. "I know customers. I know how to make a sale."
Grog studied him. "This isn't a sales job."
"Every job is a sales job." Bertrand leaned forward. "Adventurers need to feel welcome. Merchants need to feel confident. The front desk is the face of the guild."
Lira spoke. "He's not wrong."
Grog frowned. "The secretary position requires discretion."
Bertrand waved a hand. "I can be discreet."
"Prove it."
Bertrand whispered something. Grog didn't hear it. Lira didn't hear it. Ken probably heard it, but Ken didn't care.
Grog nodded slowly. "You're on the list."
Bertrand beamed. "I knew it."
"Next."
---
Candidate Four: A Nervous Woman
She was trembling. Her hands shook. Her voice was barely a whisper.
Name: Petra.
Experience: None. She had been a farmer's wife until the monsters killed her husband and burned her farm.
"I need work," she said. "I'll do anything."
Grog was quiet for a moment. "Can you read?"
Petra shook her head.
"Write?"
Another shake.
"Count?"
"I can count."
Grog nodded. "The front desk requires reading and writing."
Petra's face fell. "I can learn."
"We'll think about it," Grog said.
---
Candidate Five: A Talkative Young Man
He talked. A lot.
Name: Finn.
Experience: None. He had been a scribe's apprentice until the scribe retired.
"I'm fast," Finn said. "I'm organized. I'm good with people."
Grog held up a hand. "Stop."
Finn stopped.
"The secretary position requires silence. Discretion. The ability to keep secrets."
Finn nodded. "I can do that."
"Prove it."
Finn closed his mouth. Didn't open it.
Grog waited. One minute. Two. Three.
Finn didn't speak.
Grog looked at Lira. Lira shrugged.
"You're on the list," Grog said.
Finn nodded. Didn't speak. Walked out still silent.
Lira laughed. "I like him."
---
Candidate Six: A Retired Soldier
She was old. Not frail—old. Her hair was gray, her face lined, her eyes sharp. A sword hung at her hip.
Name: Sera.
Experience: Twenty-five years in the King's army. Retired after her knee gave out.
"I know the job," Sera said. "I know adventurers. I know monsters. I've spent twenty-five years watching young idiots get themselves killed. I can handle a front desk."
Grog studied her. "Why do you want the job?"
Sera met his eyes. "Because I'm bored."
Lira raised an eyebrow. "Bored?"
"I've been retired for six months. I've cleaned my house three times. I've sharpened my sword until there's nothing left to sharpen." She leaned back. "I need something to do."
Grog nodded slowly. "The front desk requires patience."
"I've watched soldiers die for twenty-five years. I have plenty of patience."
"The hours are long."
"I don't sleep much."
Grog looked at Lira. Lira nodded.
"You're on the list," Grog said.
Sera smiled. "Good."
---
The Decision
They interviewed forty-three more people.
A woman who brought her crying baby. A man who tried to sell them insurance. A teenager who claimed he had once killed a rat and therefore had "combat experience." A scholar who wanted to study the monsters but refused to touch their corpses. A noble's son who thought the job was beneath him but his father had cut off his allowance.
Grog dismissed them all.
At the end of the day, he sat with Lira and Ken.
"Garret for secretary?" Lira said.
Grog nodded. "He's reliable. Experienced. He can keep books."
"Grace for front desk?"
Grog shook his head. "Grace is smart. Organized. But she's not experienced with people. She'll handle the paperwork. The records. The translations."
"Then who for front desk?"
"Sera."
Lira smiled. "The bored soldier."
"She knows the job. She knows the people. She won't take anyone's nonsense."
Ken spoke from the shadows. "And the girl?"
"Petra," Grog said. "She'll assist. Learn the work. Run messages. Handle the small things."
Ken nodded. Said nothing.
---
The next morning, Grog offered the positions.
Garret accepted. His hook gleamed in the morning light. He shook Grog's hand with his good one.
"I won't let you down," he said.
Grace accepted. Her glasses were new, her ink stains fresh.
"I'll need a desk," she said.
Grog pointed to a corner of the great hall. "That one. The records are in the cabinet. The logs are on the shelf."
Grace walked to it. Sat down. Began organizing the papers.
Sera accepted. She wore her sword to work.
"Is that allowed?" Lira asked.
Sera shrugged. "Try to stop me."
Grog didn't try.
Petra arrived last. She was still nervous, still trembling, but her eyes were brighter.
"I'll work hard," she said. "I promise."
Grace looked up from her desk. "Come here. I'll show you how to file."
Petra walked to her. Listened. Learned.
---
The guild had a secretary. It had a front desk. It had someone to handle the paperwork, someone to handle the adventurers, and Petra, for any extra tasks.
It was starting to feel like a real organization.
Grog stood at the window, looking out at the city.
Three new rings had been delivered that morning. The mages were learning. The adventurers were growing. The guild was thriving.
But Aldric was still missing.
He turned from the window. Walked to the training yard.
There was work to do.