Chapter 1: Talentless - Chapter 1

Talentless - Chapter 1

Rayden Wake stood in front of a crumbling building, wondering if it was the dingiest town hall he’d ever seen. The dilapidated wooden shack was an improvement over the thatched houses that made up most of Penrith, but was still far from welcoming.

As an adventurer, he had wandered all over the dregs of Sepith the past decade and seen his fair share of squalor, but there was nothing quite as decrepit as this lowly town at the bottom of the kingdom’s Boot. Rayden guessed that whichever baron was responsible for this hamlet was an even bigger dickhead than usual.

He ran a hand through his messy black hair, shifted his feet, then tugged at the oversized black cloak that sagged over his shoulders, causing his plain wooden bow to knock against his back uncomfortably. His green eyes were tired, and his mood was sour.

For some unknown reason, the adventurers he’d joined up with were deferring to him as their leader. Rayden usually preferred to skulk in the background, but after a minute of standing in silence, he realized that the only thing he hated more than leading was the profound awkwardness of waiting for someone else to do so.

So, reluctantly, he stepped forward and beckoned his conspicuous companions inside.

Past a shoddy door, the small wooden office was almost as drab as its exterior, sparsely decorated and hardly furnished. However, there was a desk, and a kindly-looking elderly woman was working behind it. Her gray hair spilled behind her in neat waves as she carefully scanned a piece of parchment with her finger.

“Hello, ma'am,” Rayden called out. “We’re here about the goblins.”

The poor woman jumped out of her seat in surprise, gasping as she took in the five armed and Attuned adventurers who had waltzed in unannounced.

Rayden didn’t know for sure the others were Attuned, but thought it obvious from the way they carried themselves. All sentient races enjoyed the benefits of mana, but those who could shape it to their will walked with a different confidence. Plus, while not the strongest monsters, goblins were cunning little fuckers. He doubted mere mercenaries would be willing to take them this far south.

The gray-haired woman took a moment to calm down, taking a deep breath as she began to examine them more carefully.

Attempting to put the poor old lady at ease, Rayden put on his best I’m a strapping young mercenary and certainly not a brutish ruffian smile, hoping the daggers on his hip wouldn't spoil his innocence. He waved politely, and the attendant eventually returned the gesture with a nod of earnestness.

“Um, greetings, adventurers! Thank you so much for coming to Penrith. We worried the guilds would ignore our request…”

She sighed, creasing the deep lines in her weathered face. Rayden understood her weary expression; being in charge of a town like this was probably all struggle and little reward.

“Not exactly abnormal out here, as you can imagine,” she continued. “So, your help is much appreciated. Thank you for coming.  I’m Lauryn, the chamberlain for Mayor Rhubarb, who should be back shortly. May I ask for your names?”

“I’m Rayden,” he nodded, then pointed at the woman he would personally call the favorite of his fellow travelers. “This is Quill.”

The pleasantly plump and pretty redhead took a step forward and bowed, offering a polite smile that bunched up the freckles on her pale face.

“Pleased to meet you, Chamberlain Lauryn.”

Her straight auburn hair fell down her shoulders and rested on a suspiciously clean set of thick sapphire robes. An expensive-looking staff was slung over her back, making her look more like a mage in a research tower than an adventurer for hire. The intelligent gleam of her deep-set brown eyes did little to make him think otherwise.

While they’d spoken little of anything of consequence, he had appreciated that she’d taken a real interest in chatting him up on the trip down.

“That’s Boh,” Rayden continued, gesturing at the grumpy-looking dwarf next to Quill. The gruff man, who was stocky to the point of portly, grunted an acknowledgement as he toyed with the warhammer on his belt. His long red beard was almost long enough to reach his hands, and always seemed to be glinting with sloppily poured drops of ale. Instead of a flask, the dwarf had a genuine flagon attached to his hip.

He had more than reinforced the stereotype of alcoholic dwarves, which Rayden found endearing, strangely.

The next adventurer, a tall, lithe, and handsome elf, had already hopped forward before Rayden had even turned to him. He bowed deeply, showing the candor and grace of a noble as he politely tipped his fancy hat.

“It is such a pleasure to meet you, chamberlain, what a wonderful little town you’ve got here.”

The hat was as posh as his accent, a wide-brimmed and black cavalier adorned with a fancy white feather. Rayden found it rather ostentatious, but the man had seemed to take Boh and Quill’s earlier ribbing in good humor.

During his and Rayden’s brief chat, the elf had adamantly maintained he was a humble outdoorsman who grew up around the western rim of Sepith. Rayden would have bet one thousand gold coins on that being a big fat lie.

He was even more skeptical of the name he was using.

“Uh…” Rayden paused, trying his best not to laugh. “That’s...Jim…”

The chamberlain arched an eyebrow, but was wise enough not to pry. Rayden met her gaze with a knowing smile before turning to his final companion.

“And this is Ivy.”

He gestured at the tan woman standing next to Jim, who was even taller than the elf and far more muscular, standing well above six feet tall. The stoic adventurer responded with a slight nod.

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She had been polite enough during their journey, but preferred to communicate only when necessary, which would have been fine if he weren’t so curious about her. She was an oddity, possessing curly, light green hair he’d never seen the likes of before, and a pair of large, menacing jade gauntlets that she only took off when she slept.

On the few occasions she did speak, her face remained a taciturn mask, almost as if emotion were a foreign concept to her. She’d never been rude or disagreeable; she was just all business.

Rayden returned his attention to their host, having finished the introductions. He was a little unsure of how to proceed. Goblins were a straightforward task, but the quest had mentioned some other, more dubious details that he was reluctant to bring up.

“Goblins won’t be a problem for us,” he eventually said. “Where exactly did you see them?”

The chamberlain blinked slowly, still a little shaken up by the sight of her strange guests.

“Ah, I’ll show you, course,” she eventually murmured, looking a little embarrassed. “Sorry! I don’t mean to gawk at you so rudely. We just don’t get visitors here often, and the ones we do rarely mean well. The mayor and I are extremely grateful for your help. I’ve marked the goblin’s den on a map…”

She glanced down at her messy desk with a frown.

“I just need to find it, one moment.”

“No problem,” Rayden smiled. “I know we’re a bit of an odd bunch.”

He was trying to make the woman feel more comfortable, but it wasn’t a lie. Having observed his companions for a few days, he suspected that all four of them were hiding their fair share of secrets.

Though she acted demure, he doubted Quill had been born a commoner. It was in the way she spoke, as well as the expensive items she carried on her person. Boh had hinted at being a craftsman, but no dwarven artisan would be out in the Boot questing for a pittance without a good reason. “Jim” was pretending to be someone he was not, and Ivy was a hulking behemoth who openly flaunted a pair of enchanted gauntlets.

They were strange in very different ways, but Rayden had survived along the Rim long enough to know that out here, strange wasn’t to be fucked with.

After a minute or two of rummaging, Lauryn procured a tattered map from her desk and handed it over. While not exactly precise, it depicted the local area well enough, and he could easily determine where she had marked the goblin sighting.

“This will work,” Rayden approved. “Thank you. We’ll get to it shortly. And…the pay is a silver each, correct?”

“Yes, sir, five silver in total. The mayor has your pay ready, and he should be back very soon!”

“Understood.”

He calmly scanned the chamberlain's face, skeptical, but not offended. She had implied that they would pay upfront, which was unusual, and he was dubious that they had the money to begin with.

For a place like this, five silver could be considered a fortune. He imagined that Penrith was just like any other small town on the kingdom’s outskirts, caught between the vice grip of the barony’s taxation, the merchant guilds' protection fees, and the threat of bandits they were supposedly paying to be protected from. It was a brutal life, and Rayden was sympathetic.

Just the thought of the merchant guilds squeezing them dry, and the callous attitude of the nobles who did nothing to stop it, made his stomach boil. If the chamberlain truly had the money she had promised, he was going to refuse his portion, if only to quell the anger bubbling up in his chest.

Rayden suddenly felt a grubby finger press into his back.

“Ask her, Rayden,” Boh grunted.

He turned around and gave the fat dwarf a reproachful stare, resisting the temptation to suggest the tubby alcoholic do it himself…but…the man was right to be insistent. The quest had specifically stipulated that a gray dungeon gate had been sighted near the goblin encampment, which was, frankly, preposterous. If it had even been slightly believable, the guild would have passed it on to the barony proper.

There was no way this backwater podunk was mana-rich enough to form a dungeon, even if it was squeezed between the Feral Lands, so the claim was dismissed as a minor footnote. Still, it didn’t hurt to ask.

“Excuse me, Chamberlain Lauryn,” he said politely. “I believe your quest additionally mentioned something about a dung-”

“Lauryn, I’m verklempt!”

Rayden paused, having been interrupted by a fast-approaching and indignant voice.

“...I can’t decide who I’m more sick of, that tyrannical sack of shit baron Gustav, or the gold grubbing ratfink merchants who hoard their fleeced earnings into a shit infested colony they dare to call a guild. They’re bleeding us dry, absolutely fucking dry. Drier than a desert, drier than the cracked earth our excuse for gods blessed this shit town with, drier than my sorry wife’s attempt at a cake…”

The chamberlain’s face turned increasingly red as the raging voice drew closer.

“I’m sorry,” she said while cringing. “Our mayor is…rather outspoken. He may be crass, but he has a good heart. It's…painful…being mayor here.”

Rayden couldn’t help but smile. Contempt for authority was practically his love language.

“I like him already," he declared.

That got a nod out of Boh, a polite laugh from Quill, and the barest hint of a smile from Ivy. Jim laughed as well, but for several seconds too long in a way that suggested: Yes, I, too, identify with the plight of commoners!

Moments later, a stout man clad in a tattered gray overcoat and a well-fitting pair of trousers walked into the barren office with his head buried in a stack of papers. He continued condemning the world’s evils with delightfully colorful language, completely oblivious to his audience. A shy teenager skulked behind him, wearing an apron and a belt equipped with a smith’s hammer.

Just before the mayor walked straight into Ivy, he looked up at the last moment and gasped.

“Holy fuck, what behemoth are you?”

Ivy remained stone-faced, but she did lightly bump her gauntlets together in warning. The mayor either didn’t see or didn’t care; he was already surveying the rest of the room, slowly growing more and more panicked.

“By the covetous gaze of my undiscovered mistress, there are dwarves and elves too? Was there an escape from a sapient preserve or something?” he said, bug-eyed. “You must be here to rob us, oh, you dreadful, dreadful, greedy bastards. I’ll have you know that my esteemed shithole won’t go down easily, no, we’ll stand up and-”

“Rhubarb, they’re here to help,” the chamberlain groaned. “They’re adventurers, here for the goblins.”

“Oh,” he blinked. “Oh shit! That’s fantastic. My apologies, good ladies and sirs, it’s been a rough stretch for us here in Penrith… first there were bandits sighted nearby and now an accursed gaggle of goblins pops up from gods know where…”

The energetic mayor pumped his fist in excitement.

“But alas, your arrival is a welcome respite of good news!”

Rayden grinned, despite feeling the drain of an alpha-extrovert’s presence. Crazy or not, he respected the mayor’s bravery. It was rare to hear someone talk about a noble like that, even this far away from civilization. Plenty of tyrants would send a man straight to the gallows for less.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mayor. I’m Rayden Wake.”

“Rhubarb Barellchest, pleased to meet you, Rayden.”

They shook hands, then Rayden briefly reintroduced his fellow adventurers. A bit of small talk followed until he noticed that the surly dwarf behind him was growing impatient.

“So, Mayor Rhubarb,” Rayden began, nervously clasping his hands. “The contract we received from the guild mentioned a dungeon sighting, which I have to admit seems very unlikely. Look, I understand how bad things get out here, so if the sighting was made up as bait, then I-”

“It's real,” Rhubarb interjected, with a suddenly serious expression on his round face. “Or at least, I believe this poor young lad thinks it is,” he added, gesturing over to the shy and scared boy patiently waiting behind him. “Tell them what you saw, Rick.”