73

--Enclave--

Tea stepped forward first and gave a short bow. “Head Scribe, my friend and I have completed the tasks that you set for us —”

“Your ‘friend’ can perfectly well talk for herself, lizard,” the woman told him flatly.

Guin felt her face flush at the insult as her eyes snapped up. “Excuse me?” she went, starting toward the desk, but Tea grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

“I have completed the [Dust and Essence] quest,” Tea answered with a taught voice, still holding Guin’s arm. “I have brought back the things that you needed from the catacombs.”

“Tea—” Guin started to protest, but he shook his head. Taking her arm back, she took a deep breath. He was stronger than she had given him credit for — physically and mentally. Because of his playful character, she had always thought of him as being weak, and a little childish and naive, but at the end of the day, he was a garule — and, she reminded herself, a garule who grew up rejecting the structure that his people laid out for him. Does that make him a sutak as well? she wondered, briefly, before the woman’s tone called her back to the moment.

“What are you waiting for? Place your things on the counter,” the Head Scribe motioned to the desk in front of her.

The good boy he was, TeaforaDragon placed the things on the counter without a word. The old woman sorted through them, inspecting each bag carefully. Guin looked at Tea for guidance, but he was staring at his feet, shoulders slumped, his eyes narrowed in a pained way.

Was she wrong? Was he only pretending to be strong?

His hands were shaking, but Guin wasn’t sure if she should move to comfort him or not. If he knew this was going to happen, why hadn’t he said anything to her?

“Very well. You have good friends, reptile. You should thank them,” huffed the Head Scribe as if she were reluctant to give him credit for any of the work he had done. Guin went to say something again, but Tea placed a hand on her arm and gently led her back.

“I do, miss,” he answered with a pained smirk.

“Hmm,” the Head Scribe’s eyes fell on Guin, who knew her expression was far more hostile than it should have been considering it was a quest giver — though she wasn’t sure she cared anymore. “And you? You have finished this quest as well?”

“What about Tea’s reward?” Guin asked crossing her arms. “He went to you first, he should get his reward first.”

“Guin…” Tea started, but was silenced with a glare.

The woman at the desk sighed. “And so he shall, but I do not wish to repeat my explanation twice if I do have to.”

“Fine,” Guin growled, and withdrew the pouches for the [Dust and Essence] quest. The woman didn’t bother inspecting them, and just accepted with a nod. Wondering if they could her her teeth grinding, Guin shifted her stance. “So, Tea’s reward.”

“For completing this quest, and, it seems, the quest from the High Priest, both of you shall be allowed to receive a Profession Advancement,” the woman pulled out two papers from her drawer and put one each in front of them. Interest perked, Guin decided to put aside her annoyance and read the paper. “There are three Profession Advancement branches that you may now choose from: Priest, Mortician, and Bookkeeper. Once you sign this paper, you shall be an Initiate of the profession that you select, and I shall give you your next trainer. Having this rank will allow you to take higher level Profession Classes.”

“What’s the difference between them?” Guin asked.

“Becoming a Priest means following the path of one who guides the soul from birth till death. You shall be given quests related to teaching and caring, and be given access to trainers of healing, blessing, and spiritual growth. This branch compliments classes such as the Cleric, the Paladin, or the like.

“Becoming a Mortician means becoming one who guides the body in death to the afterlife. You shall be given quests related to burial rites and rituals, and be given access to trainers of spellcasting and rituals.

“Becoming a Bookkeeper means becoming one who feeds the mind throughout the ages. You shall be given quests related to discovering the history of the ancient world, and chronicling the present for the future, and be given access to libraries throughout the lands that shall serve as your teachers and guides.

“Only one you may choose, and only once. This choice cannot be made again,” the Head Scribe said. “Come back to me when you have decided.”

Tea and Guin exchanged a glance and stepped down off the platform. The sheet that she had given them was very simple; they need only write their choice, and sign their name.

“So,” went Tea. “Which do you think you’ll go for?”

Guin stared at him. “Are we ignoring the fact that she was… not very nice to you?” she asked, biting back more aggressive words.

He grimaced. “She’s always like that,” he said. “I’ve never really liked this place. Even forgetting how nasty she can be — the sound is… unnerving.”

“The sound?”

“The quill pens on the paper,” he said with a shiver.

“What!” she went in shock. She loved the sound; the smell. It was one of the reasons she liked the place so much. How could it bother him?

But he nodded dismally. “Garuli don’t have a writing system — at least, not for many generations. We’ve never had a period without computers. I get that this kind of thing fits the gameworld, but it really grates on the ears.”

Chuckling at the concept, Guin shook her head. “You guys are weird,” she told him. “But alright. Let’s get this over with so we can get out of here.”

“Yes, please!” he nodded energetically. “So which one are you going to choose?”

“Well,” she started, considering her options. “I have no desire to be a priest. Doesn’t fit with the whole shape shifting ninja thing I have going on. Mortician sounds interesting, and would probably be good for my liver needs, but… if I am being honest, the Bookkeeper is probably what suits my personality. You?”

“Mortician,” he said with quite a lot more conviction than she expected from him.

“Why?” she blinked.

“Most songs and dances are considered rituals,” Tea told her. “So that, in addition to the fact that I may or may not have necromancer tendencies — “ he coughed, “ — makes the Mortician the best choice for me.”

Guin snorted. “I see.” She had a number of ritualistic tendencies as well, but she still didn’t feel like she had settled on a combat style of her own. “I think I’ll go Bookkeeper,” she said, then considered him. “‘Necromancer tendencies’? What ‘necromancer tendencies’? We’ve been messing with undead this whole time and I’ve never seen you so much as raise them back up.”

“It doesn’t really work that way,” he admitted bashfully. “I thought it did, but turns out I can only raise stuff from what was already alive, first. And it has to be of a certain caliber, so mice don’t work.”

“And obviously, without veil sight, gremlins and wraiths are a no-go, huh?” Guin said, signing her paper, pledging herself to the cause of the Bookkeepers.

He nodded. “On the other hand, things could get interesting when we start fighting the corruption!”

“What are we waiting for, then?” she chuckled.

Together, they walked up and handed the paper in to the Head Scribe.

“Are you sure about these decisions?” the old woman asked them. “You cannot change it once it is made.” After they confirmed, a screen popped up:

>

>

>

>

>

“Cool,” Tea said.

“Take these, as well,” the Head scribe handed them each a token. “These are your licences. When you encounter areas that are open only to your specific profession, you can use these to identify you and your group’s right to enter. Be advised that should you be found in a place that is locked to you without a proper pass, you shall be removed, arrested, or executed.”

“Charming,” Guin said, flipping the licence over to look at the simple carving of a book with an intricate outer design.

“Is there anything else?” the Head Scribe asked.

Guin started shaking her head, but Tea tapped her on the arm and pointed back at her. “You’ve got that other thing, right?”

“Other thing…? Oh! The inscriptions!”

“I’ll wait outside for you,” Tea said. “The scritchy-scratch is giving me a bit of a headache.”

“Okay,” Guin nodded. “See you soon!”

After Tea had left, Guin turned to look back at the old woman behind the desk. She had not forgotten how the woman had treated her friend, yet she wanted to deal with the inscriptions before pissing her off. No use in throwing away a tool that still had its uses.

“Yes?” the Head Scribe asked taughtly, eyes blazing over the rims of her spectacles. “Is there something else, Candidate?”