The guild hall was alive with sound.
An old man nearby slammed his mug down mid-story, laughing as he swore his arm had once been twice as strong.
A broad-shouldered swordsman leaned far too close to a bartender, earning a sharp smack and a cheer from his friends. Somewhere, two drunk patrons argued over whose turn it was to pay and settled it by swinging full jugs at one another, ale sloshing across the floor.
And in the middle of it all, Melina sat alone.
She perched on a stool slightly too big for her, hands wrapped around a mug she hadn't touched.
The brim of her black, pointed hat cast a shadow over her eyes. Her white ruffled blouse was neat but worn at the cuffs, the black leather vest carefully mended in places that spoke of long use rather than fashion. Her staff leaned against the table, polished smooth by years of grip.
The backpack on her shoulders looked heavy even while resting—full of everything she owned and nothing she could trade.
"…Why's that one so gloomy?"
The question came from behind the counter, murmured between the clatter of mugs and the hiss of poured ale. A barmaid leaned sideways, chin tipped subtly toward the center of the guild hall.
Her coworker followed the glance.
"The one with the hat?" she asked. "That's Melina."
"The witch girl?"
"Yeah. Her."
The first barmaid wiped her hands on her apron. "She looks like she's waiting for someone."
"She's been waiting for weeks," the other replied, voice lowering. "Wants to enroll in a magic academy. Any of them. Just one that'll take her."
"And?"
"And nobody wants to."
The first frowned. "Why not?"
The second shrugged, not unkindly, but resigned. "No patron. No family name. No proof she's worth the tuition risk. Says she's saving every coin she can, but...I don't think she realizes that the money she can earn here won't be enough..."
Her eyes flicked back to the girl. "Magic schools don't like unknowns. So unfortunate, the girl is really kind."
The guild hall roared around them, blissfully unaware.
The doors of the guild hall swung open.
At first, no one noticed. The guild was loud—always loud—and a little cold air slipping in from outside hardly seemed worth attention.
Then the noise thinned.
The first to appear was a young woman.
She had long, golden blonde hair and a refined face. But that noble, dame-like appearance was contrasted by her armour. She wore intricate silver armour, with brown leather accents around the waist, thighs and boots. She had a sword strapped to her hip.
Beside her stepped a good-looking young man with black hair. He wore a black knight's armour with a torn white cloak. He had blue eyes and an appealing face. He had no weapon in sight. His expression was open, almost gentle, eyes curious rather than threatening.
A step behind them came the third.
Short. Cloaked. The hood pulled low over his face, fabric worn thin in places and patched with care. He moved with the quiet awareness of someone who didn't trust crowds, shoulders slightly hunched, weight always ready to shift. Whatever age he was, he carried himself older.
The Guild Hall went silent for a single second before they all forget about the newcomers and got back to doing whatever they were doing.
Victoria leaned towards Alaric, he brought his ears to her level.
"This is the guild I was talking about" she whispered. "There is a Dungeon outside this town and their job is to raid it in exchange for moneh."
Alaric nodded before asking:
"Why are we here exactly? I have enough money, I think...."
He had taken some golden coins from Sassafras's cave, not intentionally, he found them on him after leaving the cave. He didn't know too much about the currency system or of the value of things, but, given that one single coin was able to rent them an inn room for a week and buy the equipment of two people told him that he had enough. Not to mention that he from his understanding, those things only cost him 1/3rd of the gold coin.
"It's not about that," she said. "It's the adventure!" She beamed.
Adam sighed under the hood. "That's just extra risk."
"It could be fun," Alaric nodded. "How is it down there?" He asked, he didn't exactly want to encounter a life-threatening battle.
Victoria shrugged, "I don't know. Never been."
Adam sighed again.
The bar maid approached them with a practiced smile, wiping her hands on her apron as she looked the three of them over. Victoria stepped forward before either of the others could speak, posture straight, voice warm and confident. She did most of the talking, all of it actually.
them to follow. She led them through the bustle of the guild hall to a wooden booth set against the wall, papers stacked high and a brass bell hanging from a hook.
The maid slipped neatly behind the desk, rolling her shoulders like she was stepping into another role entirely.
Adam glanced around, eyes sweeping the room.
"…They're understaffed," he muttered, half to himself.
The receptionist—same woman now, expression all business—looked up at them. "What can I do for you?"
Victoria leaned forward slightly, hands folded. "We'd like to register as temporary members. We're planning to raid the dungeon."
The receptionist blinked, eyes flicking between them. Her gaze lingered on Alaric's armor, then on Adam's cloak, then back to Victoria's bearing. She tilted her head. "You're already adventurers, then?"
Victoria laughed and waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, no, no. Nothing like that."
That earned a raised brow, but no further argument. Paperwork was slid across the desk. Stamps were pressed. Small metal cards were handed over.
A few minutes later, Victoria held hers up to the sunlight pouring through the high windows, squinting at it.
"Huh," she murmured. "I thought there'd be a test or something. There always is in the novels."
Adam snorted.
"You really are a weirdo."
She looked around to see where Alaric had drifted away.
He stood near a table at the center of the hall, beside the girl in the black witch's hat. He was listening intently, head tilted slightly, asking quiet questions.
"He asks a lot of questions. Why is that?" She asked.
"You would never believe it." Adam answered.
Victoria noticed the dried tear marks beneath the girl's eyes.
Victoria turned back to the booth and leaned toward the receptionist. "That girl in the witch's hat," she said quietly. "What's her story?"
The receptionist followed her gaze and sighed. "Melina. Wants to be a mage. Needs money for tuition. Problem is, without a party, newbies aren't allowed past the upper floors of the dungeon. The real loot's lower down."
Victoria nodded slowly, understanding settling in.
She glanced over her shoulder toward Adam.
He met her eyes and grimaced. "...Really?" he said immediately
She didn't say anything. Just raised a brow.
Adam followed her look to where Alaric was standing—now holding a mug.
"…Is he drinking ale?" Adam muttered.
A second later, Alaric took a sip.
Then promptly bent over and vomited onto the floor.
The witch girl jumped. A few patrons laughed. Someone clapped.
Adam covered his face with his hand.
"…Why is he like this?"
Victoria smiled.
Victoria walked over to Adam and leaned down. She whispered something into his ear.
Whatever she said, his expression shifted
A moment later, he straightened, grabbed a rag from a nearby table, and cleaned himself up with efficiency.
Melina was standing a few steps away, staff clutched tightly in both hands, eyes wide and unsure, like she expected to be scolded for watching.
Alaric looked at her for a long second.
Then, with the same blunt calm he used for everything else, he asked,
"Do you want to join a party?"
The words hit her like a spell.
Her breath caught. Her eyes widened further, shining. For a heartbeat she just stared at him, lips parting soundlessly.
"…R—really?" she managed.
"Yes," he said simply. "We're going into the dungeon. You should come."
Her staff nearly slipped from her hands.
"Yes!" she blurted, far too loud, then clamped a hand over her mouth. She bounced once on her heels anyway, unable to stop herself. "I mean—yes. I would— I can— I'll be useful, I swear!"
Melina's smile didn't fade.
"Thank you," she said, voice thick with emotion. "Thank you so much."
Alaric nodded, as if this were the most natural thing in the world.
And just like that, the party had gained a temporary mage.