The Wielder of Death Magic

‘He’s here.’

‘How are we supposed to approach him?’

‘Should I say hi or will that be rude.’

‘The aura around him, I can’t imagine being so careless,’ these thoughts and few of the same context traveled.

Composure remained strong, Igna’s idle expression made breaking the ice all that harder. “Enough with this awkwardness,” mumbled Lingling, “-hey there Igna,” she jumped on to stand face to face, “-long time no see, have you grown taller?”

‘What a crazy chick.’

.....

‘May her soul rest in peace.’

“Lingling. It has been quite a while,” the sudden change of tone stumped multiple expressions. Group C, a bunch who’d always been at odd ends were the timid ones. No matter the time elapsed, if people parted on a bad note, the reunion would leave an even bitter taste.

“It has been,” said she in a friendly manner, “-Ella, Ellie, Kein, Goldie, come on guys, no need to be scared of this fellow,” she playfully pinched his cheeks, “-see, big ol’ Igna’s a good friend.”

“Hey again, Igna,” whispered Kein in her reclusive persona. Her bangs grew to cover her eyes, god knew how she could see, let alone fight. The Tier-7 Sapphire tag told another story.

“What is up with you these days,” inquired Goldie. The overzealous party girl previously oozing her person felt lesser of a phenom. For once, the outfit wasn’t as over the top as before, her makeup days swapped to lip balm and short ponytail. Tier-6 Emerald swung around her neck.

“Quite the jump in ranks from Tier-8,” remarked he.

“Oh please,” added Ling coyly, “-don’t compliment me too much,” the undertone was of, “-keep ’em coming.”

“I rather not waste my breath,” refuted he coldly.

“There we go again,” she pouted, “-back at it with the cool persona.”

“Igna, I have a question,” whispered Kein softly tugging his shirt.

“What is it?”

“What’s the deal with Ardanian and Hidros ranking?”

“Oh,” taking a step back, “-Nassie, mind explaining my friend here?”

The sudden request caught the assistant at a bad time. A mountain of unfulfilled requests toppled. “-M-M-MY BAD.”

“Don’t get so worked up,” said he, “-go on, tell them about the ranking, I’ll handle the files.” The paths crossed; he manned the counter as she manned the group of curious adventurers. Fondly enough, those inclined on keeping their distances inched closer. In the end, she stood atop a stool as if a singer about to perform. A mosh pit worth singing for.

“Hello Adventurers,” her voice changed, the face seemed fiercer and more direct, “-welcome to town Glenda. Tis an honor for us to welcome fighters of another country. We of the Ardanian guilds have been stumped by the age of war and civil unrest. Matters in the province aren’t beneficial for tourism and adventurers. People are more concerned with survival. As the ones who accepted the trying task of aiding us in our time of need, on the behalf of the guild and the townsfolk, I’m grateful,” her words charged into a lightning strike. The thunderous roar of passion and encouragement choked up the bystanders. “Let start with the basics, guild tags. For Arda and Hidros, our standard of ranking adventurers varies. Here, it’s harder to be promoted and easier to be demoted. Our ranking system is very arduous and difficult to handle. Tis because of the many races, for example, Dark-Elves are especially adept at magic, whilst Light-elves are very good marksmen. Their roles can be quite pivotal in a battle. We also have beastmen who are fighters, other healers, their abilities and strength are gauged on a merit system as opposed to one’s mana and physical capability. To ensure the survival of recruits, they must choose one of the four guilds: Fighters, Mages, Smithing, and Traders. Once chosen, they must complete basic training and acquire an adventuring badge. Only then that they are allowed to accept the quest. Hard, complicated, and boring, those who drop out are most often saved from a worthless death. The strongest resolve to get better, no matter how weak one is, will be picked, the decision is up to the examiners. A culmination of those affects how Ardanian’s are ranked. Compared to Hidros, the ranks held by our people are mostly grouped between Tier-9 and Tier-5.” Long as it seemed or felt, the pronunciations, the body language, and prompt intonation made the speech very much enjoyable. “-Enough of the basics – I should get to the real matter at hand,” a glance to Igna begot a nod of confirmation. “-the quest posted by Queen Gallienne was done so on her own volition. The Ardanian Guild will not take responsibility for the death of unregistered fighters. It’s harsh and unjust, I know. We can’t afford the trouble, numbers are few, the guild has been taken over by the Empire. Our Guild masters managed to escape, though, our strongest of members were captured by the enemy. I hope the non-aggression pact allows for some to escape and rejoin our cause. Arda’s currently divided into two, around 70% of the continent is being occupied by the Empire, whilst 30% is under the control of the Blood-King’s Faction. I’m sure reality will hit soon; the coming quests will bring upon a new revelation. The pay will be meager, the threat of death lingers in every nook and cranny. I ought to be truthful, I’m certain some of you will die. Our province isn’t an idyllic place of magical advancement and natural beauty, we’re a heaping pile of despair,” her hair violently wrapped around the chin, cheeks, and neck, the gestures sharpened, and so did her visage. “-My goal is to discourage the foolish adventurers of Oxshield. The pay is bad, the risk is high, and recognition is none. Here’s the situation, decide right here and now,” the one-sided onslaught ended in heavier pants.

*Huff puff* “-if you’ll excuse me,” her feeble fingers innocently draped the stool.

“Good job out there,” winked Igna, “-I’ve sorted the quests. Should be an easier job now.”

“Oh my god,” her face flushed, “-you’re an angel,” said she more content about the paperwork, “-this’ll get me home early.”

“Nassie,” chuckled Igna, “-you’re quite a soft-hearted lady. And please, refrain from calling me an angel,” he vaulted over, “-I’m far worse than a righteous leader.”

‘Me, soft-hearted?’ she locked onto his back, ‘-no, can’t possibly be true... wait, did he realize I was willingly painting our continent in a bad light. I mean, I did say it out loud,’ the brows felt heavy, ‘-oh no, by the mercy of Tharis, I’ve done it again. I went overboard,’ papers held up to hide the self-conscious expression, ‘-damn it, damn it, damn it.’

Tense to being crushed by the pressure of hopelessness. The minds finally attuned to the surrounding. Until Igna showed up, the room had been an asylum. Neither wanted to speak nor go explore, the flight to Arda was long and tiresome. Glenda didn’t display the poverty as it ought to be shown. They were in great shape, considering the others. Shy of the town wall, after the bushes over a stream, laid an outpost for travelers.

Travelers, a fa?ade and sugar-coating way to say slums. People there lived in abject poverty, no clothes nor food, sustenance came in form of clear water. The forest was angry, fruits and vegetables stopped growing, the monster rampant activity increased. Help wasn’t an option either, the slums, also known as Vanesa’s cave, was once a hideout for the Cult of Vane, the Aedric Mistress of Plague and Illness. Any miscalculated act of heroism could spring country-wide devastation. The power of sickness is one far too fearsome to be trifled with.

Right after landing, the visitors were purposefully taken on a route to showcase the miserable state of life. Consciously or not, the situation engraved into the coming reasoning. Similarly, the door upstairs opened, the parley ended.

“Greetings Adventurers,” said a loud beast-man of the tiger’s demography, “-my name is Ronen Akton, guild master of Glenda. I bid thee a warm welcome.”

“Judging by the expression,” interjected lady Haru, “-Nassie must have recounted of province’s state.” Lowered heads and clenched fists, hopelessness at its finest.

‘About time I made my introduction,’ up the stairs and presiding over Haru, “-Hello everyone, my name’s Igna Haggard, else known as Kinless. I recently graduated from the Adventuring Academy. I’m sure, you know of Lady Haru here, she’s the master of the Trader’s guild.” A destitute countenance gave much of their worries away, “-I’m the Baron of Glenda. As lord of the town, I’ll say one thing, any granted help will be much appreciated. There isn’t time for motivational speeches. I won’t make promises nor force anyone to work. The plane is ready to leave at a moment’s notice.” A makeshift runway was built next to the secondary manor, courtesy of Julius. “-Our numbers are low, money is tight, and we’ve just started rebuilding the town. The Guilds are full as is trying to feed the populous. Leading a province without the actual support of the populous is difficult. The inhabitants already know, we’re facing a tremendous hurdle. Hope isn’t lost, we’ve called onto help from scattered adventurers. The immediate goal isn’t to fight but help. Countless villages have fallen, Glenda is ready to expand and welcome survivors. I need everyone’s support to provide a better place for the unfortunate. War is a pain; it brings nothing of value. From a lord’s point of view, I see it as nothing more than a pest. Sadly, as the son of an arm’s dealer, I see it as profit. Think what thee may, the facts have been laid out, the choice is thine to make. Will you risk your lives for nothing, to accomplish nothing and to gain nothing, purely for the sake of a few nods of gratitude, or will you head on back to Oxshield where life is good and the pay is nice?”

“That’s unfair,” added Lampard.

“I agree,” nodded Frost, “-the sentence was phrased in a way to make us feel bad. Quite the shrewd politician.”

“I’m in,” added Leonard, “-not that you care for it Igna!” pointing up, “-I know you forced my mother to accept me into my family. If not for the help, she’d have never accepted my decision.”

“We’ve got a whole lot of favors to repay,” winked Jen.

“You still tick me off,” grunted Ila, “-though, I admit, you’re very dependable.”

“Where ever Frost goes, I follow,” nodded Cole.

“I don’t care about money,” fired Rena, “-I want to fight with my friends and help others.”

“With me at their side,” added Anna caressing her hair, “-there won’t be cause for concern.”

“THAT’S BECAUSE WE’RE COMRADES OF THE SAME ACADEMY!” the battle cry soothed the resolve to do what was right.

“There you have it,” smiled Igna, “-Lady Haru, Lord Ronen, here are highly capable warriors. They’ll work for free and we’re to be excused if any of them die. A win-win situation.”

“Hold on a moment, Igna,” said Haru.

“What is it?” her fingers interlocked with his.

“How did you know what we were after?”

“Lady Haru,” gently loosening the grip, “-a simple matter of using one’s own brain. Glenda’s unofficially the central hub for Guilds around Arda. The overseer of the four guilds must have had some kind of plan in mind. Bringing academy students is a smart idea.”

“Actually, Queen Gallienne recommended the idea.”

“Oh wow, never would have guessed so. I believe the matters can be handled from here on forth?”

“Yes,” she nodded.

“Very well,” down the stairs he went. ‘Being clocked out for so long is really bothersome. Julius built an airfield, fighters from the academy were called into town. There’s the existence of slum outside the walls, I guess I did fall in a coma right after becoming baron.’