Calling All Adventurers: S1 E4 - Welcome to the Jungle

S1 Episode 4: Welcome to the Jungle

Intro & News

Calling all adventurers, I repeat, calling all adventurers.

Three jobs available today but they should be straightforward enough.

Investigate raider activity in the abandoned Fort Felis outside Ranmire Swamp.

The city of Solumm is facing a drastic increase in pickpocketing and burglary. The city guard are requesting assistance from any adventurers in the area.

The Lord of Lisgaine Manor has put word through to me requesting skilled monster hunters. Says he's looking to recapture his family home from a group of Leeches and perhaps even a Moroi. A word of advice, only adventurers equipped to deal with vampires and their kin should look into this job. This is not a mission for the inexperienced.

It would seem that ours is a busy profession this week.

In the news, the Church of the Most Holy are back in the spotlight with a recent announcement that their clerics are not the combat types and that they should not be required by anyone to join an adventuring party or provide magical support. They are now the ONLY religious body in the realm with this caveat.

Anyhoo, more and more people have been listening to the broadcast and have been requesting more of the story. Word has also reached me about people making predictions and bets on what's going to happen next. All I can say is, stay tuned and find out if you're right.

Let's get back into it.

Story Start

So, there we were, standing in the frozen courtyard by the noticeboard bathed in yellow lamplight while Valuin explained what passing the PMC exam would entail.

Val: “First thing tomorrow, we will need to visit the local branch of the Elarial Ministry of Security. There should be an address on here somewhere. Ah, here. It's located across from the Sycamore Gardens south entrance.”

Host: “Okay, and what is the Ministry of Security?”

Val: “They are our gracious Kingdom of Elarial's regulatory body for all things mercenary. You can find a branch in all major cities and most larger towns. They are the ones who will test you on your suitability for this line of work and make sure you are of sound mind before handing you a literal license to kill.”

Host: “So, what? I walk inside and tell them ‘Hi, I'd like to be able to kill for money please’ then fill out a form and we're good to go?”

Val: “No, it's not that easy anymore. A couple of PMC's went a little bit power mad. They made a few poor choices regarding innocent civilians rights to not be blown up or cut to pieces and then some more laws got passed. Nowadays, you'll be subjected to a psychological evaluation, then a written test, then a physical exam. We will need to do a crash course on the psych eval and the written test to make sure you're good to pass, but I don't think we'll need to worry much about the physical exam.”

Host: “And why not? Shouldn't we cover all our bases to make sure I'm prepared? I can't afford to mess this up.”

Valuin: “Okay. I'm going to be blunt with you as you don't seem to have noticed, but you are not normal. Do you think the average person can cross 60 feet in one second and throw a creature through a brick wall with nary a scratch to show for the effort?

Host: “I thought that was some adrenaline-like-thing or something.”

Valuin: “Sweetheart, no one's adrenaline is like that. I do have questions about that by the way, but it's late and it's cold, so let's head back to my suite at the inn and we can go into further detail about what's next.”

Valuin had questions, and at that point I knew no answer I could give would be satisfying, my life had not been particularly unique.

After a few minutes of walking through the chilly streets, we arrived at an establishment called The Blue Rose. It was illustrious, clearly taking a wealthier clientele than the inn I was resting in. Walking through the front doors, I could see well-dressed patrons dining in the restaurant or talking in the lounge.

All the furniture was accented with a rich blue colour and a rose in gold embroidery. Despite her efforts to go unnoticed, Valuin was ushered over by the concierge, and she reluctantly complied. All I could hear was him asking my business here, followed by a hushed reminder that the room rates are affected by the number of people staying.

Valuin whispered something to him that quickly changed his attitude to a more understanding one and she beckoned me to continue following her up the stairs.

Host: “Hey, what did you tell that guy? Do I need to pay to stay?”

Val: “No, it's fine. I told him you were a rent boy and you'd be gone in a few hours.”

Host: “A what?”

Val: “Don't worry about it. He should mind his own business for a bit.”

Host: “Oh, okay.”

Briskly, we moved through the building, as Valuin expertly avoided the other people staying there. Across the threshold, through the lobby, up the stairs, down the hallway, and into a suite with a hasty turn of a large brass key.

Valuin's lodging was nothing short of stunning. Her room was bigger than the cottage I grew up in, with a large open space in the middle, comfy looking sofas around a fireplace against one wall and the bed on a small raised platform against the opposite. Across from the entrance was a wide sheltered balcony that looked out over the town.

Val: “Get comfortable, I'm going to ask you a few questions and explain a few things for this evening. Cup of tea?”

Host: “Oh, lovely, thank you.”

I removed my coat and sat down on one of the couches while Valuin brewed a pot of tea with an earthy aroma. She brought it over to the coffee table in a full service set.

Host: “Ooh, fancy.”

Val: “If you're going to do something, do it right with the care it deserves.”

After settling in her seat across from me, Val snapped her fingers and the fireplace ignited itself.

[Valuin snaps her fingers and the fire roars]

An interesting kind of magic, and not the type I was used to.

Val: “There's something I should have asked you when we were back at the notice board. It is not a delicate situation so I cannot ask the question delicately, I must simply come out with it: You took a life tonight. Through direct action, you killed something. Something that many consider more intelligent than a rabbit or a fish; a thinking, feeling creature. How does that make you feel?”

Host: “I hadn't really had time to think about it. You'll have to give me a moment.”

Host: “In all honesty, I worry that I don't care as much as I should. Maybe I'll feel differently tomorrow, but in that moment, I saw a threat to innocent life and I took the threat away. If I hadn't acted, 5 men would be dead at the minimum.”

Val: “So, you view it as a kind of equation? Pay one life to save 5.”

Host: “Maybe. But I think I can boil it down further than that.”

Val: “Go ahead.”

Host: “That thing in the warehouse was a Leach, right? I’d read about them in a monster encyclopaedia when I was younger. That creature may think, it may communicate with others of its kind, and may feel things like joy and sadness with a rich inner world of equal complexity to my own...but the instant it attempted to take a life, it gave me the right to take its. Just like how if I would have been okay with it killing me as I intervened. I suppose it is a transaction or equation or whatever, but I guess I just consider it a matter of fairness. Well, that's my opinion anyway.”

Val: “I see. That's a matter-of-fact way of looking at it. But I can't say I don't see the logic.”

Val sipped on her tea and stared out the window for a moment as though recalling a memory before suddenly being brought back to the present.

Val: “Right, let's go over some of the basics they will ask you at the psych eval. After the pleasantries, they'll want to know why you wish to become an adventurer. You tell them?”

Host: “That I need money.”

Val: “Okay, although that is the case for 90 percent of mercs, that's not the answer they want to hear.”

Host: “But it's the truth.”

Val: “And the truth has a time and a place, but rarely is it welcome in this line of work. You want to tell them you wish to do the right thing and help.”

Host: “They want idealists?”

Val: “No, they want ruthless pragmatists who can masquerade as idealists. They already know you want the money or glory, but they want to see proof that you can play the game and keep up the guise of a dedicated member of civilised society. Those motivated solely by coin are...mutable. People find comfort in mercs at least pretending that they are noble at heart. Going by what happened in that warehouse tonight, you actually seem to be. You threw yourself at that monster, definitely not because you thought you'd get paid for it, but because you knew it was right.”

Host: “Okay, you talk like I'm in the minority. Are not many adventurers decent people?”

Val: “Mercs are decent more often than guards are, but even that is a muddy track record. From what I've seen, people become mercs because someone or something has wronged them. They seek to enact some kind of retribution and this job gives them the freedom to seek it. People stuck in that mental state can be unpredictable. Anyway, we're getting off track. Let me pose a moral hypothetical to you. Answer however you feel is correct. You see a person stealing a loaf of bread. You follow them to find they are simply trying to feed their starving family. How do you proceed?"

Host: “Who did they steal it from?”

Val: “A baker.”

Host: “A successful baker or a poor baker who is also struggling to get by?”

Val: “Would you mind elaborating why there would be a difference to you?”

Host: “If it's a wealthy baker, he can take the hit for a poor thief's family. If it's a poor baker, I'd pay for some bread for myself and cover the cost of the thief's bread also.”

Val: “So, you see your acts as restoring some element of balance?”

Host: “It's an individual's right to eat and a baker's job to provide food. Beyond that? Yeah, I suppose it is about maintaining as best a sense of balance as possible. Yet, from what I have experienced, there is little in the way of balance in this civilised society.”

Val: “Well, when they ask you a question like that in the exam, tell them you'd bring justice regardless of who was stolen from or why. Remember, ruthless pragmatists. What you'd do in that situation only really matters when you're in it. In this instance? Lie. I find it interesting where you are pragmatic and where you are idealistic. So far I have seen you've got the strength to pull this off, and now I know you've got the right attitude about it. Can you do basic maths? How's your reading comprehension? Can you write?”

Host: “Yes, technically I have a level 2 education. My village might be little but it's one of the only ones for miles around with a school in it. Most kids from neighbouring villages came to ours to learn.”

Val: “Ah, perfect! You're making this very easy for us. Any other interesting tidbits about your past?”

Host: “Yeah, I'm a pretty good cook and for a time I sang in the local church choir. Why does this matter?”

Val: “The psych eval will ask you about your upbringing. They just want to hear simple things about you having a stable childhood, but we've got time to go over it all. For now, however, I think we should call it. You don't appear to need any counselling regarding the incident. In fact you're handling a life or death situation remarkably well. I'd suggest heading home tonight and we'll meet back up here at midday tomorrow. The plan goes ahead, let's get you qualified.”

I saw now that a large part of why Val had invited me over was to keep an eye on me. Make sure I didn't have a panic attack or break down from guilt over taking a life. I was surprisingly calm, but my body was aching and I felt quite tired. In hindsight, that was probably the adrenaline wearing off.

We bid our farewells and I left the apartment. I continued to think as I strolled down the empty streets, the moon obscured by dark clouds. I had made a decision and I would see it through. If I just played my cards right, I could make a bit of money and be on my merry way before anything got out of hand again. That was the plan, just stay the course. But that old adage flickered in my mind; "the best laid plans of monsters and men are often interrupted by meddling adventurers."

I already knew something was going to happen, trouble was afoot, and the hells themselves were on their way to greet me. I just didn't want to admit it...I didn't want to admit that I could feel a change in the wind, a buzzing in my mind, and the pressure of encroaching danger. And most of all, I didn't want to admit how much I was looking forward to it.

Break

Let’s take a break.

Some interesting news here. Interviews conducted by the Institute of Study have revealed that at least 80% of adventurers have never encountered a large painting or tapestry that was NOT hiding a secret door or safe behind it.

They are conducting a similar study to determine the probability of hidden areas behind waterfalls.

Additionally, reports of a Kulmking have begun popping up in the northern forests, eating children and devastating livestock. For those not in the know, Kulmkings are the direct midpoint between a polar bear and an ice dragon. They are as dangerous as they are exceedingly rare. Any adventurers in this region, I'd advise veering clear of anything strange and if the weather gets cold, stay calm but don't leave your camp. Reports suggest the beast has moved deeper into the forest for now but will likely return in a few days. 

These reports place it close to the Tower, so I will handle this creature myself after the broadcast.

For now, let's get back into it. 

Story Resume

I struggled to sleep that night. I laid in bed in the pitch black, which was nice for a time, but my eyes always acclimate quickly to the dark and the room begins to feel bright after a few minutes

I tossed and turned, thinking about what had happened, covering my head with the pillow before rolling around some more. Throughout the night, all I could think of was how I already needed to be asleep. Pointless rhetoric about how if I fell asleep right then, I'd still get 7 hours before I needed to get up.

Eventually, I got lost in thought about what it would be like to be an adventurer. What I could see, where I could go. I didn't really feel qualified at all for it but I wanted it nonetheless. But first; the test. I would use that as the measure. If I passed, then I would accept that the rules implemented by society had deemed me worthy. I would relinquish my foolish attempt at controlling expectations. With those thoughts, I fell asleep.

I awoke with the clang of the morning bells from a nearby clock tower. I sat up as the orange morning sun poured through the window. I slept soundly through the night, something I hadn't expected. I had thought a nightmare would soon follow dozing off but no. I bathed, got dressed, ate breakfast, and headed out to Valuin's hotel.

I wondered what plan Val had for me. A crash course on how to be an adventurer? I didn't expect this to be any kind of joke or scam, that wasn't the feeling Val gave me. She seemed genuine, at least in this specific instance. I wondered why she had taken such an interest in me. She did make, what I thought was, a throwaway comment about being on the hunt for destiny. Perhaps she was merely the type to see signs in the everyday and had assumed our repeated meeting was one. Nevertheless, I had to focus on the task at hand.

I returned to The Blue Rose to find Valuin walking out the front door.

Val: "Ah, Perfect! You're on time, I appreciate that."

Host: "You didn't doubt I'd show?"

Val: "Not for a second. Here's your itinerary."

Host: "Itinerary? Okay. The exam is at the end of this week? Is 7 days going to be enough time?"

Val: "It'll have to be. The expedition to the Shallowlands leaves very early the following morning and I expect you to have your license in hand by then. I'm going to meet the client now to secure us the job, then I'm going to fill out your application. You mentioned that you can swing a sword? Have you had any weapons training?"

Host: "Not really, I've had a little hand to hand training from my old man. I'm pretty good. Never lost a fight."

Val: "Having seen what I did, I believe that. But unless you are an Astrean Monk in disguise, you are going to need more than a solid right hook to get through this. The upper level of public gardens north of here lets you overlook the guard barracks training grounds. Their daily routine begins in about 20 minutes. I want you to watch every move they make during their training and commit it to memory so you can practice throughout the week. This knowledge will form the foundation of your martial skill and go a long way to convincing the examiner of your competency. I'll come get you after I've done this stuff and we can move on to the rest of the plan. Good luck and I'll see you in a bit."

I followed Valuin's instructions as closely as I could. She was right, from this vantage point, I had a clear view of the guard barracks below. The midday sun couldn't pierce through the overcast sky, bathing everything I saw in a cold grey.

The barracks itself was a sturdy stone building with an angled slate roof. The courtyard came alive after a few minutes of waiting. Guards in matching leather armour poured out into the courtyard and erupted in a flurry of movement as they performed their practice drills.

I stood, perched over a waist-high moss-covered stone wall and watched them like a hawk. They broke into rotating groups, some practiced sword swings on wooden dummies, others clanging weapons together in combat drills, and others in the back who practiced hand-to-hand. There was a separate group with longbows who fired arrows again and again into straw targets; they had clearly specialised and focused purely on accuracy and speed of archery. I'd never been that good with a bow, but I didn't think it would hurt to observe them too.

As seconds turned to minutes, I watched. As the minutes turned to hours, I watched...and I learned.

I felt a strange exhilaration; a clarity formerly unfamiliar to me. Each step, each swing of a sword, each nock of an arrow started to make sense to me in a way that transcended simple observation. The way they pivoted their hips, switched their weight to the other foot, reared back in preparation for a strike - all of it became clear to me.

I noted the slight hesitation from the archers before releasing the arrows. I saw the split second opportunities to counter the swordsman's techniques. I felt the predictability of every punch thrown. The cadence of their movements gradually unfurled and was laid bare before my eyes.

Val: “Hello!”

Host: “Ah, fuck! You scared me!”

Val: “Sorry about that. Good to see you're focused though. How goes it?”

Host: “I think it's going well. I'm seeing the patterns in their movements.”

Val: “Oh, you do? Show me.”

Host: “Okay. See the one down there? At the back with his defence a little lowered? He's going to utilise a feint in about 3 seconds...2...1. There! Did you see it?”

Val: “Oh, so he did. That's very impressive. It's good to take a case study and focus on them to learn all you can.”

Host: “I didn't focus on him in particular. I watched them all.”

Val: “What? You studied them all? There's 30 men down there.”

Host: “Yeah, of course. That archer's form goes rigid right before she looses the arrow. It's a pretty big window to dodge her if you're quick enough. And see the swordsmen, they have a habit of over extending and placing too much weight on their front foot. Probably a fault with their instructor given they all seem to do it. But the point is, they would be easily unbalanced by a combatant with a stronger stance.”

Val: “I see. That is most interesting. Do you think that what you've seen has helped prepare you?”

Host: “Honestly? I think it's one thing to see it from a distance and another thing entirely to face it head on. That said, I don't think I'd need months of training to be able to beat one in an actual fight.”

Val: “Well, that's good news. With that knowledge, I want you to practice with your sword for a few hours every day.”

Host: “Okay, I can do that.”

Val: “Perfect! Now let's get to the fun bit.”

What ensued was most definitely NOT the fun bit. Val and I spent hours upon hours each day learning about society, laws, monsters, all while coaching me to pretend I'm every bit the pragmatist the examiner wants to see. The best parts of my day were breaks to eat and practice with the sword. I hated all that "book learning" as my father used to call it. I recognised the importance of it all but sitting down, staying still and focusing on the words was far harder than the physical training by a wide margin.

I slept surprisingly well at night, probably because I was exhausted. Eventually, my short week of training had reached an end.

The morning of the exam was something of a blur.

Valuin was waiting for me outside my inn and we went over the plan one last time. After that, I went to the designated branch of the Ministry of Security. I do vividly remember walking up those white stone steps. The building was so imposing, with very little in the way of design or detail. The large double doors did not exactly beckon me inside.

I knew I was in the right place. If the big bold letters above the door naming the building weren't enough, the older grizzled mercs hanging around outside were the better tip off.

Val: “Don't worry too much about these guys. They are purely here to scout for talented individuals who just passed the exam. Anyway, you know the plan and I think you're prepared enough. First they'll ask you to fight an examiner. You've only done a bit of training but you're quick and strong so as long as you aren't being tested by a guy called Bartholomew Geight, you'll pass pretty easily. I don't even know if he's still doing these exams so I think you're okay. If you can stay in the fight with the examiner for more than 30 seconds, you pass. After that, it's the interview and written exam which should be a breeze. Once it's all done, the certificate confirming that you passed will also hold your rank. E is the lowest passing rank that puts you a head above the average soldier. It goes all the way up to S which is the absolute pinnacle of power. Are you ready?”

Host: “I'm ready as I'll ever be.”

Val: “Good luck!”

With that, I walked up the steps and pushed open the large oak doors. Inside I saw a seating area filled with people of varying ages, sizes, races, and disciplines waiting. They all turned to look at me, and I reflexively averted my gaze and sat down as far from anyone else as I could.

One by one, I watched them all get called up and escorted down a hallway into what I assumed was the examination room. One by one, I watched them stumble out clutching some part of their body, wincing in pain. Maybe 1 in every 10 came through and collected a license.

Eventually, my name was called and I too was ushered down a hallway toward a door. While we walked, the young lady guiding me made sure I was who I said I was and filled out the necessary paperwork on a clipboard. Once we reached the door, the woman bid me good luck and opened it up. A large open room with a lowered section in the middle welcomed me. The midday sun poured in through the large reinforced windows on the southside, and the floors and walls were covered with scorch marks and deep scratches, likely a result of the 50 battles a day that are had in here. 

At one end of the room was what appeared to be a man of middling height in full ornate plate armour over a lightweight blue gambeson. Still as a statue, he was resting both hands on the handle of a larger-than-average zweihander, until I entered the room.

Geight: “Greetings, applicant. I welcome you to this humble establishment. I will be your examiner, my name is Bartholomew Geight.”

Shit.

Geight: “Please stand at the opposite end of the room. There are 2 rules; 1 the fight is over when i say it's over, 2 fight like your life depends on it. Any questions?”

Host: “Um, yes. Er, wait, so, I have to beat you?”

Geight: “(Chuckle) Not at all. You merely have to survive long enough in a fight you cannot win.”

Now that he mentioned it, as I looked at him, something became apparent. This room was nearly destroyed from the countless battles but his armour was untouched; It had that ‘fresh off the stand’ sheen. What was damaged, however, was the sheath that held his sword.

Geight: “Do not worry about my blade. I will keep it sheathed for your protection. Do you need a moment?”

Host: “Ah, yes. Thank you.”

I took off my coat and then unsheathed my sword, leaving the scabbard on the floor.

Geight: “A Swordsman with no armour? My, you are brave.”

I tried to ignore the comment. He was not intending to kill me so there was no point donning plate to protect myself as it would only slow me down and I couldn't afford it anyway.

I rolled up the sleeves on my shirt and tested the weight of my blade with a few practice swings before standing in position.

Geight: “Are you ready?”

Host: “I'm ready.”

Geight: “Then we will commence in 3...2...1.”

[SFX swords clashing]

In the blink of an eye, he crossed the entire hall in a single step. He moved so fast I barely managed to pull my sword up to protect myself. Within seconds, I was on the backfoot as he hammered away against my blade. Left, right, left, left again, each strike sent vibrations through the tang, passing the wooden grip and into my hands. Each strike was precise, practiced, but predictable. I could see the guardsman's training in his form. I had committed their techniques to memory and it was the only thing keeping me in the game.

Despite that, I was struggling to find a window in his movements. Faster! I needed to move faster and start returning a few hits.

Geight: “Impressive! Your form is terrible, but your speed more than makes up for it.”

I was acclimating. The level of concentration it required was staggering, and the rest of the world began to melt away from my periphery. It was just me against him, and it was exhilarating. After a few more moments, I could see the breaks in his form. His practiced rhythm had betrayed him; a feint was coming up. All I had to do was wait for it and swing at the right moment.

3...2....1....now!

I stepped forward and swung with all my might, but in an instance Geight leapt into the air to a height I wasn't sure was possible for a man donning the amount of armour he was. He spun around, performing some kind of airborne pirouette clean above my head.

[SFX thwacking sound, and The Host growls]

With enough force to knock the wind clean out of me. He lashed the sheathed blade across my back, driving me to my knees. The deep stinging radiated from my back right through my chest.

[SFX heartbeat]

This is where I first felt it welling up in me, filling my heart and climbing up my throat. My eyes were stinging and my grip around my sword tightened till I felt the wood creak. My blood felt like it was on fire. I turned, nearly blind with fury, and pressed up from the ground with that outrageous speed I knew from the warehouse. I readied myself to destroy him, or die trying.

But...in an instant, all that momentum was lost to me as I saw him standing there, in the same pose as when I entered the room.

Geight: “Very well done. You pass!”

He had stood down; the fight was over.

Host: “I, uh, what?”

Geight: “You performed admirably in the face of undeniable defeat. You may continue to the next exams.”

Host: “Right, okay. Well...thank you.”

Geight: “Good luck, applicant.”

He reached out to shake my hand, a gesture I returned, before allowing me to collect my things and leave the room. I stood outside for a few moments, wrestling with the fact he stopped me as I was turning around to kill him. In this moment of clarity, I knew that he would have beaten me 10 times before I could have ever laid a hand on him, but that wasn't what bothered me. What got me was knowing that I was ready to do it. At that moment, if I'd been able, I'd have taken a man's life in a sparring match.

It didn’t feel good.

The rest of the tests were a blur, 90% of them were just repeating what Valuin and I had talked about, but I barely focused on them. I couldn't shake the discomfort, the poor taste that that unfettered rage had left on my tongue.

I walked out of the last examination and went back to the reception area. The woman behind the counter greeted me, and handed me a closed letter that held my results. I was suddenly brought out of my stupor and into the present. This envelope contained my future. Either I passed the other tests and succeeded, or I had failed and would need to figure something else out.

In that moment, I honestly couldn't have told you what the outcome was thanks to my dissociation from the second and third exams. Had I performed well? Had I bungled it? I was about to open the letter and find out when the woman gestured to a stack of parchment booklets on the side and suggested I take one. The front of the booklet read ‘A Mercenary's Guide to what comes next!’ with an artist's impression of a ‘you passed’ stamp. It was an information booklet on what you should do after you pass the test.

I'll admit, that somewhat spoiled the surprise of reading the results, but just to check and make sure, I tore open the letter and unfolded its contents. Passed with a rank of D. That felt like a respectable grade but I was happy to have passed at all.

The next chapter of my life began tomorrow, with the start of my first official job.

Outro

Right, I think we'll call it there for today, join me next time to hear about my first official job. 

Speaking of jobs, I have to rush off to another engagement now so we will pick back up at the same time next week.

Till then, adventurers.

Rest well and good hunting.