Loremaster of the Amaranthine lands

Everyone turned back toward the entrance, seeing the faintly shimmering wall of energy return.

“And now we’re trapped.” Khan said as he sat down on one of the fancily carved benches beside the wall with a sigh.

“At least we’re inside.” Quentin stated as he looked around warily.

The inside of the spellcasters’ guild was nothing like the one Regis saw back in Hunor. This one was obviously not a refitted tavern. They stood in what seemed to be a reception room of sorts. It was about seven square metres in size with a metre and a half wide stairs heading up on the right side. In front of them was a reception desk with a door behind it and a door on the wall on the left side of it.

There were fancily carved benches beside the walls of the room, obviously made for the guests and visitors that would come to the guild. Several paintings hung on the wall with bronze frames. The walls themselves were made from bright red clay bricks, a sign of wealth and power in itself amongst the thatch and wooden shingle roofed buildings put together with whatever was available at the time.

“Nice place,” Osmond admitted, his finger drawing a very thin line of dust on the reception desk. “It looks like we are the first people in here in a while.”

“That’s good for us.” Valerie stated as she slumped down on one of the benches. “I think we earned a win for all our efforts.”

“Amen to that.” Amanda agreed as she looked at one of the wall paintings depicting a creature they assumed to be a griffin.

“So,” Fabien looked at the reception desk and under the stairs. “Where should we start?”

“Can’t you just sit down and rest for a little?” His sister asked wearily.

“We have a gate to close Val, and we have to do it soon. Otherwise, those mercenaries might just come back to see what we’re doing outside for so long.”

“They’ll most likely think that we died.” Khan shrugged.

“First and foremost, we’re here to look for books,” Regis said in a firm tone as he walked over to the receptionist's desk, vaulting over it with a swift motion. “We’re here to get information, and spells and maybe make the guild our temporary residence while we are here.”

“You’re shitting me, right?” Cruz stared at the dark elf befuddled.

“Why not?” Osmond asked back as an answer to his friend’s question. “No one was able to get in here before us, not even that tier two mercenary spellcaster. If Regis can strengthen those runes a bit more, then this place should become defendable enough for us to stay over.”

“Not to mention that none of the townsfolk would come around to cause trouble for us.” Amanda added to the argument.

“People used to live here, so there should be a pantry...”

“And food,” the Mongolian youth jumped to his feet with an audible growl escaping from his stomach. “What are we waiting for? I haven’t had breakfast yet.”

“Alright,” Quentin patted his friend’s shoulder. “We’ll split up. One group checks out the door behind the reception desk. Another check the door to the left. The rest will head upstairs. Spellcasters go first. You guys know more about magic than the rest of us, so you’ll spot the dangers and the opportunities faster as well.”

“If you must rob this place,” a weary and old voice resounded from atop the stairs. “Please, spare the tomes. They are old and easy to tear.”

“The fuck?” Cruz cursed while everyone stumbled back, staring at the greyish-white-haired man standing high on the stairs.

“I thought that Fletcher dude said no one was left behind.” Khan blurted out, staring at the weary elder with vigilance.

“Everyone Qadir acknowledged as people,” the stranger let out a deep sigh. “Which means all the apprentices with actual magic. The bastard doesn’t even consider me a person.”

“Our apologies, for breaking in,” Quentin gave a slight bow. “We were previously told that the local spellcasters’ guild got locked down and abandoned. If we would have known that someone was still here…”

“You wouldn’t have come to rob the building?” The elder asked with his eyebrow raised.

“We’re not here to rob the place,” Regis stated as he jumped over the reception counter. “We are outlanders, should that mean anything to you. Some of us are spellcasters and we came here seeking arcane knowledge.”

As he said that, he raised his left hand, weaving his arcana into glowing runes in the air as proof. The elder’s face turned from wariness into one of deep thinking as he walked down a few steps.

“Outlanders,” he mumbled. “That would mean the horrid events of the past weeks were the time of dark turmoil recorded to occur every time your kind is about to appear.”

Step by step, the ashen-haired elder walked down, visibly deep in his thoughts, not showing even a hint of fear or distrust towards the intruders. A coughing fit drew him out of his musings, making him miss the last step, only to get caught by Quentin and Khan. His coughing was deep and heavy, most of the colour draining from his tired face as he did so. The wannabe paladin placed his palm on the old man’s back, quietly praying his healing chant to relieve the stranger’s pain.

“Thank you, young friend!” The elder spoke as the coughing slowly ceased and life returned to his face.

“Are you alright, sir?” Fabien asked, eyeing up the man with a discerning gaze.

“I am now, thanks to your friend here. My old age seems to be catching up with me and these past days left me slightly ill and weary.”

“Why don’t you just take some medicine?” Sophie questioned as her companions helped the old man sit down on one of the benches.

“I wish that I could have done so,” he spoke in a still somewhat raspy voice. “But the alchemy room is sealed with magic, just as most of the guild’s important areas. Qadir left me here with access only to the library, the living area, and the kitchen.”

“What about the door leading outside?” Valerie pointed at the door with the reinstated barrier.

“Barred with magic, trapping me here to tend to the guild’s common areas.”

“What an absolute bastard,” Quentin cussed after casting his healing chant a second time on the elderly man. “To think that someone would do such a thing…”

“Is quite common amongst the higher-ranked spellcasters,” the man sighed. “A powerless old scholar like myself only amounts to being a housekeeper in their eyes.”

“Did he at least leave enough food behind for you sir…” Sophie looked at the elderly scholar worried.

“Darris,” the old scholar answered. “And I’m not a sir. I’m just a commoner turned scholar. As for your question dear; the pantry was quite full when he left and in the absence of company, it was quite enough for me in the past weeks.”

“Well,” Amanda sighed. “On the bright side of things, you were at least safe from the chaos outside.”

“And you also got to go on without starving, unlike some of the people we met.”

“Yes,” the elder let out a tired breath. “While trapped here, I could only watch as chaos, death, and rot took over this part of East Fork. But what is this you said about the inner town before? Are there still people in there?”

“Quite a lot actually,” Osmond answered. “From what we understand, a man called elder Jonah and guard captain Hyord run the place.”

“I see. So old Jonah and Hyord managed to keep some people alive. That is good news.”

There was an obvious relief on the old scholar’s face and in his voice as well. He looked back up at the group with a newfound curiosity in his eyes.

“So... outlanders,” he mused aloud. “Are all of you...”

“Yes.” They answered as one.

“And you,” he looked at Regis. “Am I correct to assume that you are a spell weaver?”

“I am. Why? Is that a bad thing?”

“Not at all young one; it’s just that the ability to weave the arcane energies by will is quite a rare skill to possess. Are you a shardwaker by any chance?”

“We all are,” the dark elf stated. “It’s one of the things that are common in all outlanders.”

“Fascinating,” the old scholar looked at the markings on their hands. “The records seem to have been right about that one.”

“So it would seem.”

“Well then,” he stood up with a renewed vigour and with the help of Quentin. “If you are indeed here to seek out arcane knowledge, then you are at the right place. Although Qadir himself was only a second-tier spellcaster, East Fork’s guild was always known to possess a decent library."

His words felt reassuring to everyone present.

"I’m sure you will be able to find something to your liking, or something that would prove useful. As for the rest of the areas of the guild; they are locked away behind barriers like the one you met at the door.”

“Hopefully I’ll be able to deal with those as well,” Regis stated in a calm tone. “But first, I should reinforce the barrier at the entrance. We wouldn’t want any unwanted guests now, do we?”

His joke earned a slight chuckle from the old man before a loud grumble escaped from the stomach of the members of the warband.

“I guess we might as well raid that pantry that was mentioned before.” Osmond pointed out, earning a firm nod from the rest of the group.

“That is,” Quentin raised his voice. “If there is enough to share around, sir.”

“There is still enough for at least a week for one man. With you here, it might not last more than 3 days.”

“Don’t worry,” Fabien tried to calm the elder. “We’re not here to rob you of your supplies. We’d only like to eat while in a safe place. Once we’re out here again, we could try to look for more supplies to bring back to you.”

“That,” the old man tried to protest before letting out a sigh. “I would really appreciate that. With the way things are out there, I doubt I could do so myself.”

“It’s the least we can do after intruding on you,” Quentin agreed to the suggestion as the group left the dark elf behind, heading towards the door on the left side of the reception counter.

With the others gone, Regis turned his attention to the task at hand. He walked back to the entrance door, opening it to make the barrier visible. After reaching out for the left side of the door frame, the touched the grey-colored rune and slipped into his meditative state. While focusing on the grey symbol, he re-drew it over and over again until it turned into a bright white colour.

It took him some time to restore his spent arcana, but it was manageable. After repeating it with the two other dull grey runes, the barrier began to glow with a much brighter hue. ‘This should be able to keep even a second-tier spellcaster out.’ He mused to himself while he closed the door and headed toward his companions. As he entered through the door, following his friends, he found himself in a room that could only be described as a cafeteria. Large wooden tables were replaced throughout the room with benches on both sides. Paintings adorned the walls and a large, roughly made carpet sneaked across the floor of the room.

“Over here!” He heard Cruz calling out to him.

Looking to his right, he noticed a bar counter with another room behind it that proved to be the local kitchen. The faint smell of freshly cut vegetables flitted through the air as he entered the room.

“I don’t even remember the last time I ate radish.” Khan said as he peeled the vegetable, handing it over to Fabien so he could dice it into smaller pieces.

“We don’t need much of it for the soup,” the infernal claimed. “Two should be enough.”

“Vegetable soup?” Regis asked as he watched them peal and cut a wide assortment of common vegetables into an iron pot.

“We figured it would be the fastest and simplest one to make besides actual roasted vegetables or the simple dried ham and cheese.” Valerie claimed from the side, stuffing a small piece of cheese into her mouth.

“A good bowl of soup can fill the belly and warm the heart.” Elder Derris claimed as he watched the young outlanders busily preparing the food.

“Do you want to bite?” Amanda invited the dark half over, holding up a small piece of smoked ham.

“I wouldn’t mind something until the soup is done.”

“That’s going to take at least an hour if not more.” Fabien pointed out as he tried to figure out the workings of what seemed to be a runic stove.

“I never thought I’d see a contraption like this,” Osmond marveled at the glowing symbols of the fireplace. “How does it work?”

“It was created using a small chunk of Arcanite,” Derris walked closer. “The runic formation gathers the ambient arcana to feed the stone. The cook only needs to touch one of the runes and fire will be created on the rune-marked surfaces. If I know right, they used the scorching touch as the base of the enchantment.”

With that, he touched one of the glowing symbols and fingertip-sized flames burst into life beneath the metal grate where the port was meant to go.

“I don’t even have a home yet,” the pale youth stared at the fireplace mesmerized. “And I already want one of these.”

“You’re not the only one,” Amanda joined in the conversation. “If they can make a stove work with magic, I can’t wait to see what a magic forge would look like!”

“Expensive, I presume.” Regis joked, earning a rueful stare from the blacksmith.

“Forges powered by arcana are a rare and precious commodity that only the blacksmiths working for the high nobles can afford,” old Derris stated matter-of-factly. “Then again, most enchantments of the second tier and above are quite costly.”

“You know,” the tall woman turned towards the dark elf with fluttering eyelashes. “I’m sure I would be able to craft better equipment for us if someone would make a forge like that for me.”

“Sure,” Regis nodded with a smirk. “I’ll craft one for you at the very friendly cost of probably a small estate.”

“Son of a...” she tried to curse before deciding to not finish it. “You know what? I’ll just grind my craft until I’m skilled enough for a high noble to offer a forge like that to me on his own accord.”

“Go for it!” The young spell weaver gave her the thumbs up before taking a bite at the palm-sized piece of ham.

“Damn this thing is salty.” he shuddered after swallowing the piece of meat. “Anyway; I think I’ll head up to check out the library while the food is cooking. Is that alright with you sir Darris?”

“Of course,” the elderly scholar stuttered, still unaccustomed to the respect he was given by the group of magically gifted people. “Let me show you around. That way you should be able to find what you’re looking for much faster.”

“Thank you.” The dark elf nodded as the two of them left the kitchen.

“Wait for me!” Osmond called out to them, following the two with hasty steps.