Jack was listless. He had been going through the motions, training early in the morning, bathing, and then relaxing at the inn eating the food. He had enough money that he could do this for some time, though he realised he needed to start worrying about that sort of thing now. He was no longer a Bloodwall, the psuedo-nobles who protected the south west from the beast hordes. He was Jack, just Jack.

He couldn’t go around creating weapons, he wasn’t a smith yet so no one would trust him, and he had no forge to work in either. There were so few places he could head to in order to work. If he wanted to make a name for himself, there was one place in particular. He wasn’t sure about his fighting ability, but considering his birth and his training, he might have a chance at that place.

That same morning, Sir Anthony shook as he felt the withdrawal symptoms overcome him. He winced as he stared down at his hands, watching them tremble. He was no longer a Sir and had taken the name George so no one would connect him to Chief Bloodwall. He needed to remain like a shadow if he wanted to help the Chief from the shadows.

‘A shadow, huh?’ he thought to himself. A smile fell across his lips as he thought about the shadows which he had taken care of, the rogues he had slain not long ago. Mister White should have dealt with the situation by now.

The trembling eventually stopped, and he made his way to the nearby river to wash the cold sweat off of him. There he found a few others, mostly commonfolk, in the midst of playing and bathing. He left them be as he washed himself, noting that a few other mercenary types had also come.

They eyed George up, noting his weapon and his breastplate. A woman nodded her head to George and then walked over to him. “Hey,” the stranger called out, “are you taken?” She was tall and lean, with a long scar across her face. She carried at her side a pair of swords, and with how she carried herself, she knew how to use them. She walked with a sway, and her fingers seemed ever ready to clutch at her blades if she needed them. She had short dark hair and dark eyes, and George wondered if she was from the east.

“No,” George replied. He assumed she meant if he was part of another mercenary group. Since he wasn’t with someone else it was highly likely he was a free agent, and one who was looking for another.

“Your rank? High Iron First,” she said, letting him know her own first since she was asking for his.

“High Iron Third,” George replied. The rank would already be really high for his age, and his true rank was something which would have caused her great suspicion.

She narrowed her eyes, already slightly suspicious. “High Iron Third?” She glanced around his body, trying to ascertain whether or not he was telling the truth. “You sure about that?”

“Draw your swords and you’ll find out, otherwise you’ll have to take me for my word.”

“Show me your sheet,” she said, referring to the sheets that mercenaries usually had. They would hold plenty of information for other mercenaries, and would be used to identify dead mercenaries who were found on the battlefield. They would also be used to send money back to a mercenary’s family if one had established that with the guild.

“I don’t have a sheet, I’m not a mercenary.” George smiled as he stepped into the cool water, scooping the water and then pouring it over himself.

“You’re not a mercenary? What are you?” The suspicion in her voice increased.

“I’m just a vagabond making my way through life.” George chuckled as the river continue to rush through before he finally stepped out and changed into his clothes and armour. “I might head to the guild to see what’s happening.” It wasn’t a bad idea to join the mercenary guild. It was one of the best places for information, and a great place to find out immediate threats within the vicinity.

Noticing just how awkward the situation was, the woman left him to do his business as she took a dip into the river. George left her, heading to the city. He made his way towards the second ring where the mercenary guild made its home. The mercenary guild was a large building made of stone. It was long, with a large field one could use as practise, where there were already a few people sparring.

Those who were sparring noted George as he approached, but seeing the dead look in the man’s eye, they left him alone. They assumed that he was a man who was down on his luck and was joining the mercenary guild since he didn’t hold the mercenary swagger.

He stepped into the guild to see a couple of parties currently drinking and talking, sometimes across the way to talk with one another, but mostly keeping to themselves. The cool stone floor caused his steps to echo throughout the building, and he passed by the wall with the posters of the various quests, starting from High White near the bottom, and going up to Steel. Anything beyond Steel ranked quests were usually given to individuals or groups who were hand picked by the Guild Master of the mercenary guild within the city.

There was a woman at the front desk, with long blonde hair, blue eyes, and tan skin. She smiled at him, even if he did appear to be a worthless man, she had seen many similar types who come here. None start issues within the guild, though, as it was a neutral ground. There were very few who started trouble, and after a beating, there were none.

“Morning,” George said, nodding his head.

“Good morning, sir. My name is Alice, how can I assist you?” Alice smiled at him warmly. It was a practised smile, one which George was familiar with since he would often employ it.

“I would like to join the guild,” he said, glancing around to check the others within the guild. Most would have been around his strength or slightly weaker.

“What is your name?” she asked, taking out a form and then dipping her quill into the ink pot.

“George,” he said.

Alice wrote something down onto the paper. “Your rank?”

“High Iron Third.”

“Oh. You’re quite strong.” The woman smiled a little wider. “Which abilities do you know?”

“I prefer to keep that to myself, but I’m good with a sword and a spear. I don’t have many techniques past that, but I have slain a few others at my rank.”

“Lawfully?”

“They tried to kill me so I returned the favour.”

“Lawful enough, then.” She ticked a box which asked whether he was someone of decent repute. “Anything else you’d like to reveal?”

“I would like to add that I like to work alone. I don’t do groups and groups don’t do me.”

“I’ll add that in,” she said, writing a note at the bottom. “We will need to test you in the guild to see if you are at least High Iron First, and other than that, you can begin to take quests.”

George shrugged his shoulders, expecting the test. Since he had stated he was High Iron Third Core, he needed to keep his cards close to his chest. As he followed Alice, he straightened up slightly. He glanced back over his shoulder to see a familiar form. Had he been caught?

Jack stepped into the mercenary guild, swallowing his nerves. He could see all the other mercenaries throw their looks at him, sizing him up. There were only two reasons as to why a fifteen year old would make their way to the mercenary guild, he was here because he dreamt big and wanted to become famous and powerful, or he had nowhere else to go.

“Would you mind if I process this young man first?” Alice asked George.

George looked to the young man who had arrived, Jack, and then back to Alice. “Do as you please,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. He was nervous that Jack would catch him, but he had changed his appearance by changing the colour of his hair as well as allowing it to cover his face. He looked even more like a no good drunkard too.

Alice approached Jack. “Hello, young man. I’m Alice, how can I help you?”

“Good morning, Alice. I’m here to sign up to the mercenary guild.” Jack looked up at the woman, who was only slightly older than him, no more than twenty years old.

“Two in one day, how rare.” She eyed him up, appraising him. “What is your rank?”

“I’m High White First Core,” Jack replied.

“High White First Core?” Alice placed her hand on her chin as she went into thought.

“Is there a problem?”

“Not exactly. The rank is fine, it’s just that you are quite young…” She looked at the others and then cleared her throat. “How old are you exactly?”

“I’m fifteen,” Jack replied.

“Please follow me.” She turned and then looked to George. “Would you mind waiting a little longer?”

George shrugged. “I’m in no rush.”