Adrien and Vera fought through the bottleneck of the gate, buffeted on all sides by a tide of panicked bodies. Vera opened her mouth to shout a question at the guards, but one look at their white knuckles and frantic gestures silenced her. They were as terrified as the crowd.
Above, the midday sun vanished, swallowed by a bruise-colored cloud that marched across the sky with unnatural speed. Then, the world turned a blinding, electric blue. For a heartbeat, everything was silent, and then the sky tore open.
~ KRA-KAAA-BOOM!
The thunder vibrated in their marrow, shaking the cobblestones beneath their boots.
"Adrien, what's happening?!" Vera yelled over the sudden ringing in her ears.
"I don't know!" Adrien grabbed her hand, his eyes fixed on the horizon. "Just run! The Guild isn't far!"
They tried to sprint, but every heavy footfall was met with the frantic, rhythmic clink-clink-clink of the glass jar in their pack. One wrong stumble and their hard-earned prize would be a mess of shards and wasted effort. They slowed to a jarring, teeth-gritting pace, weaving through the chaos as the wind began to howl with the force of a gale.
The Mercenary Guild finally loomed ahead, a stout stone silhouette in the gloom.
"You two! RUN!" a voice bellowed from the entrance.
"RUN IF YOU WANT TO LIVE!"
The wind snatched the rest of the man's warning away, burying it in a roar of dust and debris. They lunged for the threshold, slipping inside just as the heavy oak doors slammed shut, cutting off the storm's scream.
"Are you two out of your minds?!" The man who had been shouting stood over them, his face flushed with fury.
"Why didn't you run? You should have been halfway across the city by now!"
"We have a quest—" Vera started, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
"To hell with your quest!" the man spat, cutting her off. "Quests don't mean a damn thing if you're dead. No amount of Velars is worth a life!"
"Over here, now! You reckless newbies!" the receptionist barked, his face a mask of irritation.
"Turn it in and let's be done with it!"He glanced toward the man who had been scolding them, his voice dropping an octave into a respectful, hurried tone. "Brother Časlav, get to the basement. I'll handle these fools and drag them down with me in a moment."
The receptionist snapped his attention back to the duo, his fingers drumming a frantic rhythm on the counter. "I haven't got all day. Show me."
~ KRO-KRAA-BOOM!
Another strike detonated overhead. The guild's heavy timber frame groaned, and the floorboards jumped beneath their feet. Everyone in the hall winced, shoulders hunching instinctively against the roar.
Adrien and Vera fumbled with their packs, carefully lining up the jars of Bloodvine sap on the scarred wood of the counter. The receptionist did a quick, practised sweep of the glass, checking the viscosity and the seals.
"Hmph. Excellent condition," he muttered, scribbling notes with a scratching quill. "Fine. You've officially survived your first contract for the Guild."
━━━━━━━━━━━ ⚔ QUEST COMPLETE ⚔ ━━━━━━━━━━━
Title:Collect Bloodroot Vine Sap
Status:SUCCESS
[ Log ]: 10 Jars submitted.
Condition: Excellent.
Rewards:2 Velars + 10 Velar Deposit Return.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
━━━━━━━━━━━ Mercenary Status ━━━━━━━━━━━
Rank: Unforged
Progress: 01/20 Contracts
Rate: 100%
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
"Wait," Adrien said, his hand lingering on his bag. "I also hunted a Juvenile Frost-Viper. I have the loot."
Outside, heavy rain hammered the roof, the thunder a continuous growl that vibrated in their teeth.
The receptionist shot a look of genuine fear at the bolted front doors. He shoved a wicker basket across the counter with a trembling hand.
"Quickly! Dump the parts in here and take this token," he hissed. "You'll get the market value minus the Guild's cut later. Just move! We need to get to the bunker before the worst of it hits!"
Adrien burned with questions. He watched the NPCs, people who usually moved with programmed calm, now shivering with a very real, very human terror. He bit his tongue, knowing that survival came before curiosity, as they needed to reach that bunker first.
"Budimir! Why are you still up here? And who are we hosting?" A voice boomed through the hallway, gruff, yet carrying an underlying note of joviality.
Budimir, the receptionist, stiffened instantly. "Branch Manager! I was just settling the final accounts. These two are our newest members, the ones who arrived with the Baroness's personal recommendation."
"Ah!" The man stepped into view, his presence filling the cramped space. "Then off with you, Budimir. Get to safety. Leave these two to me; I have a few things I'd like to ask them."
Budimir didn't need to be told twice. He gave a hasty, stiff-backed bow and vanished toward the stairs, leaving Adrien and Vera alone with the newcomer.
A jagged peal of thunder ripped through the air, followed by a low, rhythmic shudder that made the guild's magical lights flicker and dim.
"My name is Marko Đorđević," the man said, ignoring the shaking walls. "Branch Manager of this Ashfall Frontier post. Now, follow me. These walls are thick, but they aren't meant to withstand what's coming."
The duo exchanged a wary look before falling in step behind Marko's heavy strides.
"Sir," Adrien spoke up, his voice echoing in the stone corridor. "May I ask a question?"
"Feel free," Marko grunted.
"What exactly is this? The people, they're terrified. Does this happen often?"
Marko stopped dead. He turned, eyes wide with genuine shock. "How can you live in this world and not know of the Blighted Rain? It is the most common catastrophe we face."
Vera moved quickly to cover for them. "We... suffer from a lapse in memory. Aside from our names, much of the world is a blank to us."
Marko stared at them for a long beat, his expression unreadable. Finally, he turned and pushed open a heavy, reinforced door, gesturing for them to enter.
"The Blighted Rain is a global plague," he explained grimly. "It kills or mutates any living soul caught in its downpour. As for how often, it's as fickle as the gods, a lucky man might never see it in a lifetime, an unlucky man might see the sky turn grey every week."
As they stepped into the room, the transition was jarring. Gone was the damp stone of the guild; instead, they found a lavishly appointed suite. A young woman sat calmly on a velvet sofa, sipping tea as if the world weren't ending outside. A maid stood behind her, rigid as a statue. What struck Adrien immediately was the woman's face; she bore a striking, sharpened resemblance to Baroness Jovana.
"Welcome to the private bunker for the Guild's... most essential guests," Marko said. He bowed slightly toward the sofa. "My Lady, I hope you do not mind the intrusion."
The woman looked up. Adrien caught a flicker of disdain in her eyes, a brief, cold flash that vanished behind a mask of high-born politeness."I do not," she replied, her voice like silk. "Why would I mind meeting the 'Heroes'? Though, Marko, please do not forget your manners. Introduce us."
"Of course, My Lady." Marko turned to the duo. "Her Ladyship is the only daughter of Count Vukosavljević and niece to Baroness Jovana. This is Lady Gabrijela Vukosavljević."
He then gestured to the two of them. "And these are the Heroes who liberated the villagers from the Snow Wolf bandits, Vera and Adrien."
Adrien straightened his posture, taking on the effortless poise of a man born to wealth.
"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Gabrijela," Adrien said. His voice was no longer the breathless shout of a runner; it was calm, measured, and perfectly modulated. He gave a sharp, elegant nod, not low enough to be subservient, but just deep enough to show respect for her rank.
Beside him, Vera didn't miss a beat. She smoothed her travel-stained cloth and armour as if it were a silk gown and offered a refined, practised incline of her head."We are honoured by your hospitality," Vera added, her tone light but carrying that unmistakable ring of high-society politeness.
"A pleasure." Gabrijela echoed. She set her cup down with a delicate clink that seemed to defy the muffled roar of the thunder outside.
Marko, looking pleased by the shifting atmosphere, cleared his throat. "With the pleasantries out of the way, My Lady, I brought these two here because I believe they are the answer to your current... predicament."
Gabrijela's composure fractured for a moment, her eyes widening in disbelief. "Surely not. Marko, you are the Branch Manager of the Mercenary Guild in Ashfall. If anyone has the resources to assist me, it is you."
She turned a sceptical gaze toward Adrien and Vera. "No offence intended, but they are newcomers. They lack the standing and the strength required."
"My Lady, raw strength is not what we need right now," Marko replied. A shadow of melancholy crossed his face, his voice dropping an octave. "As for the Guild... it is a giant, toothless tiger. Old, clawless, and waiting for the end. There was a time when even the King of Hasea would have been forced to bow to us, but those days are ghosts."
Adrien narrowed his eyes, his voice cautious. "Not to be rude, but we aren't exactly looking to get involved in anything illegal."
"Lady Gabrijela is in love," Marko began, his tone turning conspiratorial. "Unfortunately, her family finds the match... unsuitable. They've tucked her away here with her aunt to let the fire die out. Her Ladyship simply wishes to send a letter to her beau."
Gabrijela flushed a brilliant, indignant shade of red. "Marko! How dare you disclose my private affairs in front of outsiders?"
Adrien and Vera didn't join in the man's mockery. Instead, a heavy, familiar silence settled between them. For a moment, the lavish bunker and the digital storm outside faded. They weren't just "Adrien and Vera", the players; they were two people who knew exactly what it felt like to have their hearts treated like assets on a family balance sheet. Back in the real world, their own lineages demanded the same cold obedience. To them, Gabrijela's "rebellion" wasn't a quaint NPC quest; it was a reflection of a familiar gilded cage.
A flicker of genuine pity softened Vera's eyes. She knew the weight of a family's standard.
"Didn't you say you wanted help, My Lady?" Marko retorted calmly, unfazed by her flare of temper. "Where is the woman who claimed she would do anything for her love? Why let embarrassment stop you now?"
Vera cleared her throat, her voice losing its edge of suspicion and replacing it with something more grounded. "Wait," she said, looking from Marko to the blushing noblewoman. "You want us to work against the wishes of a powerful family, all while staying in a town governed by her aunt."
She glanced at Adrien, seeing her own thoughts mirrored in his grim expression.
"We know the risks of that kind of defiance," Adrien added quietly.
"In theory, the risk is high," Marko admitted, his eyes glinting. "But I have a plan. I can guarantee that if you follow it, not a single hair on your head will be touched."