The guild hall was nothing like Velik had expected when he’d first arrived in Cravel. He’d expected it to look something like an enormous hunter’s lodge, big enough for a hundred people to stay in. In his head, he’d pictured a huge gathering hall with a massive fireplace on one end, trophies of various hunts mounted on the walls around it. There would be hunters of all origins sitting at tables, swapping stories and enjoying good food.
The reality was a lot more mundane and a bit depressing. The Monster Hunters Guild was a business, and its guildhall resembled an office more than anything else. Its primary purpose was to acquire and sort information about all things monster related. It was a repository of information, so much so that there was a great library stuffed full of books and a small platoon of scribes working to maintain the quality and accuracy of those tomes as they copied out new ones for distribution.
There were clerks and counters and lines for guildsmen taking on jobs and petitioners dropping them off. There was a claims area for receiving payment or a ticket to take to one of the banks authorizing a transfer of funds from one account to another if the amount was too high to be convenient and for some reason not in the shape of decarmas.
It was all very professional and sterile, despite the wildly eclectic appearances of the actual monster hunters themselves. Velik had no room to point fingers there, especially now with a black cloak patterned with raven feathers and clothes made out of dark blue leather. The amount of jewelry he was wearing wasn’t something he’d ever have considered purely as a fashion choice, but each one had powerful enchantments derived from the various champion seeds he’d recovered at the end of summer.
Unfortunately, that also meant a mess of bureaucracy, something he had practically no experience dealing with. Torwin sponsoring him had helped bypass a lot of the process, almost everything except for the actual trial period as an iron. It was too bad Torwin was off on what he’d referred to as his “punishment” for failing to help Jensen evolve his class into [Ranger], something he’d apparently been contractually obligated to achieve.
The fact that Jensen had gotten something arguably better in [Vault Seeker] and that he was completely happy with the end results wasn’t relevant. His father had successfully argued a breach of contract and taken the guild for the full amount due in the penalty clauses, or something like that. Velik wasn’t a lawyer. It sounded like a terrible class designed to make those who held it miserable. What he did know was that the people in charge weren’t happy with Torwin and he’d been sent on a crappy, lengthy job as punishment.
On a personal level, that meant that other than getting Velik on the right path, Torwin hadn’t been around much to help him navigate the murky political waters of the guild, which was honestly probably how Velik had ended up in this situation in the first place. He knew Milly didn’t like him, and he knew Pevril felt the same, and those two had probably conspired in some way that Velik hadn’t figured out to put him in a position where he couldn’t win if he played by the rules.
What would Jensen say about this? ‘Screw the rules, I’m rich.’ That sounds about right.
If he couldn’t win their stupid game normally, he’d go over Pevril’s head. Whatever else could be said about Velik, he was over level 40 and barely eighteen years old, with a unique racial subtype and class, and a full set of powerful equipment. He could kill monsters ten levels higher than him easily.
It was safe to say that the guild wanted him in their ranks, so letting someone who outranked the instructor for the iron-ranks know the bullshit that was going on would hopefully be enough to get things fixed. If not, he was done wasting time here. Velik didn’t need the income, just the information. Torwin had assured him this was the best way to get it, but he’d started cultivating contacts around the city in the form of tutors and instructors to help supplement the fact that he’d basically had no education at all growing up in a destitute part of a country whose name he had never learned.
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Ghestal, he thought to himself. It was one of the facts he’d memorized from his lessons. It still didn’t seem all that important, but he supposed for anyone planning on traveling to other countries, it was a useful bit of information. Considering he didn’t have the first clue where the mysterious person or group that had planted a dungeon seed near his hometown were based out of, it was entirely possible he’d need that broad knowledge of geography.
He crossed the guild hall’s lobby to one of the help desks, doing his best to keep the angry scowl off his face. It wasn’t the attendant’s fault he was in a bad mood; there was no reason to take it out on him. It was obvious he wasn’t doing as good a job as he would have liked mastering his expression just from the way the attendant was watching him stalk over.
“What can I help you with?” the man asked, glancing just once at the iron pin on Velik’s collar. He was required to wear it in the guild hall as a form of rank identification so that the staff knew what kind of access and privileges he had.
“I need to speak with the guild master,” Velik said.
“I am afraid he’s not available without an appointment.” Left unsaid, but heavily implied, was that only important people could make appointments, and an iron-ranked member didn’t fall into that category.
This is the kind of crap you were supposed to be here to handle for me, Torwin, instead of being off in some goat-shit-covered hovel perched on the side of a mountain hunting whatever the hell it is that’s eating the livestock.
“How about a message? Could you hand one off and let him decide if it’s worth his time to see me?”
Velik had only met the guild master once, back when Torwin had been doing the introductions, but the man had expressed a strong desire to induct Velik into the guild. He couldn’t be alright with the blatant discrimination his head instructor was displaying against someone who was outperforming the rest of his team combined. For that matter, Velik was stronger than the instructors themselves.
“I can certainly take a message,” the attendant agreed. It wasn’t lost on Velik that the man hadn’t said he’d deliver it.
[Apex Hunter] was generally a passive skill. It sharpened Velik’s senses, let him instinctively size up how dangerous monsters—or people—were, and helped especially well with noticing the signs of passage he looked for when tracking prey. It also kept him keenly aware of the possibility of ambushes, drawing his attention to hiding places and helping him understand how predators thought.
It was a fantastic skill, one that Velik had spent years developing. It had no less than six other skills folded into it, making it by far his most sophisticated skill, though [Spear Warden] wasn’t far behind with four skills merged together to form it. Rarely did he need to intimidate someone, but when that rare occasion arose, Velik always found it useful to let some of those predatory instincts rise to the surface.
“Five minutes of the guild master’s time,” he growled as he leaned over the desk. “That’s all I’m asking for. If he wants to keep what he himself described as a ‘valuable guild asset’ inside his guild, he’ll make that time to talk to me. You go tell him, right now.”
“I don’t appreciate threats,” the attendant said flatly, apparently not that intimidated after all.
Probably gets them regularly from puffed-up silvers and golds who think they’re important. Or maybe he just doesn’t see me as anything more than an iron.
“Tell him,” Velik repeated. “Or I’ll go up there and do it myself.”
The attendant snorted. “You’re welcome to try. It’s always a good laugh to watch some self-important blowhard get tossed out on his ass.”
“This place. I swear, I’ve had enough of all this crap. Three months wasted here.”
Velik walked past the attendant to the stairs leading up to the guild master’s office, fully aware of the smirking man waiting expectantly behind him. There were traps in the guild hall, nothing lethal, but plenty dangerous enough to discourage anyone from forcing their way in where they weren’t welcome. He’d been escorted past them by Torwin for his initial meeting, the gold-ranked hunter’s pin deactivating them as if they weren’t even there.
Velik didn’t have a golden pin, and his iron one wasn’t going to do a thing to help. He wasn’t terribly concerned, though. When the first barrier popped up at the base of the stairs, it was a simple wall that repelled kinetic force. Velik put one hand on it and started pushing. Almost immediately, a loud cracking sound split the air.
The attendant’s smug grin disappeared as his jaw dropped open. At the same time, the wall split in half, its ability to handle pressure overpowered in a show of raw strength. Velik walked through and put his foot on the first stair.
“Wait! Wait,” the attendant called out, hurrying over to catch up. “Do you know how expensive it is to rearm everything?”
“I know that I don’t care,” Velik said. “You’re welcome to walk in front of me and keep the traps from activating if you’d like.”
“I’ll take your message up,” the man told him. “Just… Please wait here.”