“Hey! That’s mine!” I said. I reached for my money pouch, but the taller man just held it out of my reach.

“Shut up, kid,” he said. “We run this branch, and we ain’t lettin’ you in without our say so. Yer lucky you brought enough for all of us.” One of his eyebrows shot up. “What’s this? A note?”

“What’s it say? What’s it say?” one of his blue-scaled companions asked.

“It says go screw yourself, Krali,” the scarred man said. He handed the note off to the braided woman. “Here, Goma. You can read, can’t ‘ya?”

She started reading. Slowly, sounding out each word as she went. “I re-reaaalize…”

While the woman did her best to demonstrate the pressing need for a better education system in Kalador, I reached again for my money pouch. This time, the scarred man let me take it back. I shoved it deep in my pocket and put a hand against the man’s chest, pushing with all the strength my new muscles could manage. He stumbled back a step. “Out of. My. Way!” I hissed through gritted teeth. I didn’t have time to deal with petty gatekeeping bullies. Not when the only chance of finding a cure for my illness was to rank up in their stupid guild.

The black knight rumbled with laughter, interrupting the reading of my note. “Strong fer his size,” he said, pointing to me. “Sure ‘ya can handle him, Melkor?”

“Who do you think you are, brat?” Melkor asked. He grabbed the wrist of one hand I was using to push against his chest. His gauntlets were covered in more of the same glittering scales. I felt them dig into my wrist, drawing blood as he squeezed. He obviously intended the maneuver to be painful, but pain was no longer a concern of mine. I dug my heels into the cobblestones and pushed harder, causing him to stumble back and release my hand.

“You’re a bully and a thief,” I told him.

He laughed like he found my accusation funny. “Everyone round her pays tribute to us,” he said. “Why are you shovin’ me like that?” The taller man frowned down at me. The scar on the right side of his face kept his lips on that side upturned, causing the gesture to look more creepy than it did intimidating.

“I’m just moving you out of my way,” I said. “You robbed me of your little shakedown money—”

“Tribute,” he corrected.

“Call it whatever you want,” I said. “I paid it, didn’t I? So let me inside.” I just hoped I’d still have enough to pay for my registration. It wasn’t like I could ask Brookie for more money.

“You got a death wish, kid?” Melkor asked. “Treatin’ me like that? Callin’ me a thief? Do you have any idea who I am? I’m the leader of the damn Beast Breakers!”

“Never heard of you,” I said. “Is that supposed to impress me?”

“Yeah, right!” a lackey standing behind the black knight called out.

Melkor snorted. “You expect anyone to believe you wanna join the guild and you never heard of the only Dragon Coterie in the last century to kill two dragonlings during a Fledging Season?”

“Dearie just wants to sound tough,” the braided woman, Goma, said. She waggled my note in the air between us, letting the front legs of the chair she was sitting in drop to the ground. A cigarette smoldered in the corner of her mouth while she spoke. “You weren’t so tough when you asked yer auntie for an allowance so you could go adventuring, were ‘ya, Dearie?”

“What’sa ‘Dearie’?” the black knight asked.

Goma pointed to something on the note. “It’s what his aunt calls him in this letter,” she said. That earned a roar of laughter from the lot of them.

Melkor shook his head and stepped aside. “Go on, Dearie,” he finally said, giving me a little chuckle.

“He’ll be dead in a week,” Goma said.

“I give him two,” the black knight countered.

The scarred man in the glittering armor pulled out another of those acrid cigarettes as I went by him, forgetting his resistance easily. “Let’s hear the rest of that note, Goma,” he said. I didn’t even bother asking for the note or my stolen money back. No doubt that’s exactly what they wanted. I could see how ineffectual any sort of demand like that was going to be.

Shaking my head at my stupidity, I headed inside. If I’d realized what dicks the group lounging outside the guildhall were going to be, I would have waited until they left or asked Brother Marcus to escort me inside. As tough as they were, they’d probably think twice about upsetting the church. I marked it down as a lesson learned and vowed to keep my mouth shut next time.

Once inside, I found the interior to be laid out like a tavern. To the left, a room opened up with benches and tables laid out, occupied by more rough-looking adventurers. The atmosphere was raucous, with lots of drink being handed out by barmaids and several fireplaces burning to keep the room warm. If not for the weapons and armaments on nearly every customer, it might have looked like a perfectly average bar. The patrons appeared either to have not been disturbed by the alarms that had gone off in the city only a few minutes ago, or to have recovered remarkably quickly. The back of the room had a bar attached to some kitchens where plates of food were being brought out, but to the right of the entrance was a different bar. That one didn’t appear to serve food. An adventurer in pursuer beast leather was in the middle of talking to a female attendant wearing a black button-up blouse. She held up two fingers to acknowledge my presence and said, “I’ll be with you in a minute,” before returning her attention to her customer.

I contented myself to study the bulletin board posted up behind her while I waited. Half the counter space was taken up by a black-skinned lizard roughly the size of a dog that was bloated with fat. It sat in a beam of sunlight coming in from the nearby window with its eyes closed, a line of spikes running down its back drooping with lethargy. I scanned the pages pinned to the bulletin board. They had titles like: Harpy Nest, Goblin Camp or Aggressive Ogre. Some were accompanied by hand-drawn sketches and all had prices. Or at least… I assumed they were prices. The smallest price I saw was on a goblin contract that read:

Cave goblins. Seen poaching vegetables from the Greener’s farm. Estimated population: <36 Threat Rating: Wood Tier Bounty: +247

The “+” symbol I assumed was just a local currency indicator. As that thought occurred to me, a pop-up appeared on my overlay.

Would you like to change the symbol for the Kalador Cross from a “+” to a “$”? [Yes] [No] [Cancel]

I clicked no. I could just as well get used to the differences in currency. Further up on the board I saw a contract posted for a pack of pursuer beasts with a listed price of “+12,000”. It was the biggest bounty on the board, and when I remembered how Ferrith and I’s run-in with a pack had gone, I could understand why it would list at such a high price. Even abusing my Skill as much as possible, I was certain a pack like that would rip me apart before I could kill more than one of them.

I heard something clatter on the countertop and looked over to see a handful of dice dropping in front of the man talking to the attendant. “Shoot!” she said. “You need at least two weals before I can let you take that contract.”

“It’s just a couple spiders!” the man complained. “How could they be so dangerous?”

The attendant cocked her head to the side and gave him a sympathetic frown. “Sorry, Grant. Maybe you could find some new companions and try again tomorrow?” She looked over his shoulder at me. “I have another customer.”

The taller man glanced back at me. He had a wide jaw with a prominent dimple in his chin and wore his head shaved up the sides around his ears, which gave him a sort of mohawk. He blew out a breath through his nose when he saw me, like there was something funny about my appearance. “Yeah, whatever,” he said. “I’ll talk to the party and see what they want to do. Be back tomorrow, Dealla.” He slumped off toward the bar, looking dejected.

The woman gave the fat lizard sitting on the counter a scratch under the chin and beckoned me forward. “What can I help ‘ya with?” she asked in a cheery tone.