The young receptionist laughed.

“That is absolutely welcome. We have more requests than ever before, but fewer and fewer people choose the life of an adventurer, especially with the army almost doubling in size now.

Doubling in size? Is something going on?

“I think I’d much rather be an Adventurer than a soldier, thank you.” Edwin replied.

The attendant started to pull a folder from underneath the counter. “I may be biased, but I think you’re making the right decision. And timely too, in case the duke actually ends up bringing the draft back.”

Draft? Now Edwin was really worried. There hadn’t been a draft since the Volarki war, and Edwin couldn’t imagine it being brought back unless the duchy was in dire peril. Were the Volarki acting up? They had seemed completely happy with the treaty since before Walter was born.

His worry must have shown on his face, as the girl gave him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. Adventurer’s Guild members can’t be drafted into the army. It’s the law. Speaking of…”

She pulled a small book out from underneath the counter and placed it in front of Edwin. The title was several lines long, flowery, and mentioned the word ‘Royal’, but it was really just the Guild’s charter.

“There are certain duties that come with active Guild membership, so I need to be sure you know them before I can induct you. Can you read?”

Edwin felt a twinge of amusement. Walter had been an academic. He had owned more books than this girl had seen in her entire life. He didn’t feel insulted however, as many commoners never learned the skill. If your father is a miner and you know you will follow in his footsteps, learning to read doesn’t seem like it’s worth the trouble. Fortunately, reading was common enough that Edwin knowing how to wouldn’t raise any suspicion.

“Yes, I can read and write. I also learned about the charter and its duties before I made my journey.”

“Very good. I would ask you to take your time and read through it again, though. This is what you are signing up for, and while adventurers are not soldiers, it is still a big commitment. So please, take it, read it, and think about it. I will prepare the necessary paperwork in the meantime, so once you’re done, we can start.” She pushed the book towards him and turned, busying herself with the contents of the cupboard on the wall behind her, clearly dismissing him.

Edwin had to suppress a chuckle. He highly doubted that there was much paperwork to prepare, he had seen the form he would have to sign among the papers she had already placed atop the counter. It was probably a rule, or maybe tradition, to have him review the charter before signing up. He didn’t particularly mind, and while he didn’t expect it, it was always possible that something had changed since Walter had last perused the copy in his library.

Since there were no chairs or tables in the entrance hall, Edwin took a few steps to the side, where the semicircular counter met the wall, hopped onto it, leaned against the wall and started to leaf through the booklet. As he had expected, he didn’t find any changes. The charter had been created and ratified by the first duke of Harvand in exile and the first guild master. Changing it was probably considered sacrilegious by members. Edwin flipped back to the front. On the first page was a quote:

‘Foul creatures threaten your subjects on the roads and in their homes, your grace. You wish for more soldiers, but soldiers fight armies of men, not bands of beasts. If you are looking for those experienced in the art of hunting monsters, look no further. The Royal Adventure Society has stalked all manner of creatures far and wide and dispatched them competently. If you will allow us, your grace, to recruit willing men and women to this cause, we will roam the land that your soldiers conquer and pacify it, so that your people may live their lives in safety.’

Lionel Lidion, the Adventurer addressing his grace Duke Andir Harvand at the Beast Conclave.

That’s how it had begun. Lionel probably hadn’t said these exact words, but it was always easier to sum up several days of discussion into something catchy. At the end of the conclave, the charter for the Adventurer’s Guild had been ratified, and the protection of the duchy’s people from monsters had been placed firmly in the hands of its members. Edwin turned the pages until the found the corresponding article. It was long-winded legalese, but the long and short of it was that the Guild received funds from the duchy, but in return any request for protection, like the one Edwin had delivered, had to be accepted and followed up on in a specified time. This meant that any active guild member was required to take on a number of those kinds of requests per season, depending on how many there were.

Edwin remembered Walter hearing about a different sort of crisis when he had been young, where the amount of monster attacks had drastically declined during and after a particularly harsh winter. Dozens of adventurers had banded together for every little request, worried they might not get a single job before the season ended, thus failing the minimum requirement. When the Guild finally waived the quota, they were already the laughingstock of the entire duchy. People just couldn’t take the adventurers seriously when they showed up with fifty well-armed combatants to hunt down two malnourished goblins with clubs.

Now it seemed like the situation was reversed. Monster sightings were so frequent that adventurer groups had almost no time to rest between assignments, and certainly didn’t have the luxury to look for jobs outside those funded by the duchy. And that was the main reason why people became adventurers. Anyone could make requests, and the Guild would make sure they were reasonable and set the payment and requirements depending on the difficulty and danger. Those private requests, usually by nobles or wealthy merchants, paid several times more than those funded by the duke. You could live a decent life protecting villagers from goblins, but the real money was in searching for lost Pioneer ruins, rare herbs or creatures, or protecting some noble fop who wanted to do the former himself.

Edwin didn’t mind. He wasn’t joining the Guild for the money, after all, and while he hoped he would get to do some of the more interesting stuff, he didn’t mind earning his way there. He had a whole life in front of him after all. No need to rush.

He finished skimming the book, finding no surprises and refreshing his memory on the articles, and slid down from the counter. Walking back to the front, he handed the charter back to the girl – who was blushing again.

I didn’t even say anything this time! Shouldn’t I have sat there?

Walter had never managed to get the hang of human interaction. He had also stopped caring what other people thought about him early on, and with his growing power and competence in his field nobody tried to get him to change. Being an expert apparently made people expect a certain amount of eccentricity. Now it came around to bite Edwin in the masterfully sculpted behind. He tried to ignore the awkwardness.

“All done. What now?”

The girl cleared her throat, recovering her professionality. Edwin might have been making a fool of himself, but she didn’t let it keep her from doing her job. He could respect that. She had the form he had spotted earlier in front of her, turning it around and placing it in front of him alongside a quill.

“Alright, so first you fill out this form. It’s mostly a contract, stating that you agree to follow the charter and do your duties as an adventurer. There’s also some personal information to identify you, in case somebody tries to impersonate you or you go missing on a job and we need to send a party to search for you. Height, eye color, those kinds of things. Then I have to ask if you would like to take an examination to show your skills or if you would like training.”

Edwin looked up from the partially filled out form with a questioning look.

“Could you explain that a little further?“

“Of course. To guarantee the safety of our adventurers and the successful completion of requests, the Guild must guarantee a certain level of fighting skill. Many of our applicants have some prior combat experience and would like to be accepted immediately. In that case they can take an examination where they fight one of our instructors. If they win, or if the instructor is satisfied with their level of competence, they can skip the training and start fulfilling requests immediately. Otherwise, applicants must take part in daily training until the instructors deem them ready.”

“Well I would certainly like some training.” Edwin answered while hiding his amusement. He had no intention of getting beaten around the yard by a veteran. Walter had been many things, but a fighter hadn’t been one of them.

“Really?” She looked genuinely surprised.

“Absolutely. I’m afraid I have no combat experience whatsoever and wouldn’t be comfortable going up against a goblin even with an arm tied behind its back.”

As Edwin spoke, the girl’s eyes lowered to his broad chest and muscled arms. The latter were on display since he had pushed up his sleeves to prevent them from staining with ink. She blushed and looked back up at his face. Edwin smiled at her to show that he meant it as a joke, and she turned bright crimson and looked back down at the form, speaking on with a little more force than necessary.

“Finally, there is the matter of the beneficiary.”

“Beneficiary?”

“Yes.” She answered with an uncomfortable expression. “If something happens to you, we need to know where to send your things. Also, if you…die on a ducal request, your family or whomever it is you put in here, will get a small stipend.”

“Well, that won’t be necessary.” Edwin said lightly, skipping over it and preparing to sign the paper.

“Are you sure?” The girl asked with a worried look. “If you leave it blank, your things will go to the Guild and there will be no money.”

“Quite sure, thank you.” Edwin answered with a chuckle, signing his name. This was something that he had expected, and he had spent some of the time on the road making up a signature for Edwin, practicing it on his hand. The last thing he needed was the signature of a missing ritualist on his Guild paperwork.

The attendant flipped the form back around to check his writing. “Well, I suppose you can always add someone later…” She said while absent-mindedly playing with a loose lock of hair. Suddenly she froze, shot Edwin an embarrassed look, and fled into one of the corridors with the form clutched in her hands.

I am really on a roll today. Edwin thought, dismayed. I hope I have better luck with the adventurers. As they say, there’s no second chance for a first impression. If I keep messing up, I’m going to have a bad time here.