Joining the Guild to Adventure... Together?

Night gave Den the time to think and pray to his grandfather on what to do with his conflicted new party. Somehow he actually worked out an answer. The next day came, and by incredible luck, the whole team was able to assemble at opening time at the Guild. Den had plenty of time, given the office didn’t open until ten. They gathered outside the tired wooden building and Den delivered the compromise he hoped would unite the party.

“Why should we choose between delving and travel adventuring? My grandfather did both,” Den said, swelling up with pride at the thought of Grandpapi. “He started out in the Hollows then moved on to the colonies. Why can’t we do it all?” He put a hand to his chest. “And I will stream it. I want to become a content creator and show the world that adventuring is possible.”

The other four members all took in his passion with wide eyes. Den’s determination wavered and he grinned sheepishly at his own intensity. “But we should probably take things in small steps, right? I think it would be amazing to see more of the world someday, but we hardly have the funds to pay for the trial period, let alone leave the suburb. We need to focus on money first.” He turned to Grengalheim. “When do you think we’ll actually start earning enough money to save up?”

Grengalheim rubbed his goatee. “The bottom of the First Stratum-- Layer Ten-- is probably a good place to aim, but realistically if we want to live off the Essence Ore drop, ideally we’d need to hunt in the Second or even Third Stratum.” He gave the team a skeptical onceover. “But before we even think about the Tenth Layer-- no, even the Fifth-- we are going to need to cover our weaknesses-- ideally with an Enchanted Item.”

Sam put their hands behind their head. “I can get behind all that. I want to see the world, but I want to see the Primordial Hollows too.”

Chloe also gave an affirmative nod. “Chloe approves of this plan. Chloe should also improve her marketing platform before moving business to the colonies.”

Den let out a long sigh and gave Rika a glance. “Sounds like we might just be able to make this party work. What do you say, Boss?”

Rika lifted her chin. “Good thinking, Den. What I would expect from the planner.”

He knew they only had a little more than a week to start saving up to make the first party payment, but they had time-- for the moment it seemed they had finally reached a quorum. Perfectly on time, the Guildmaster opened the door to the guild and welcomed them in.

The small cluttered shop hardly held the five team members as well as the Guildmaster. After turning in their Ore, they got right to the paperwork. Den stood at the desk with Grengalheim and Chloe while Rika laid back on the beat-up couch in the middle of the room and Sam wandered around looking at the shelves of books and old tools.

The Guildmaster pushed up his round glasses as he scrolled down a tablet. “It’s very promising that you and young Rika have managed to pull together this party in only a few days.” His eyes sparkled. “I’m excited to welcome you into the Empire Guild.”

Grengalheim rubbed his goatee, raising his chin to the Guildmaster. “I am surprised you didn’t message me directly when these two came looking to join.”

“We kind of entered the Hollows without consulting the Guild first,” Den said with a little laugh. That first day, nothing else had mattered. Now that he was trying to join the organization however, he was surprised he’d done something with so little planning. So much for being the group strategizer.

Grengalheim gave him a confused look. “How did you get the door’s lock code?”

“We broke in!” Rika declared proudly from the couch behind.

“Chloe appreciates that. Very badass.” She tidied the messy stacks of books on the far side of the desk. “Chloe also wishes to partake in pardonable illegal activities.”

“Sounds like fun!” Sam agreed from behind the desk, looking at a shelf filled with jars of slime and dusty photographs.

Den smiled. Planned or not, it seemed his party agreed with his choice. Den had slept well and after a surprisingly simple Hollows run the night before, his body seemed to be forgiving him. The morning light that poured into the guild warmed his heart as he grew excited. “I’m just glad that I’m not going to get a felony,” Den said, rubbing his cheeks and attempting to shake off the scare. “If that happened, I am pretty sure my grandmother would bury me herself.”

Seeming to finish his preparations on the tablet, the Guildmaster stood up from his tall leather chair. “Who will be the party bookkeeper?” he asked.

“Den. Definitely Den. I don’t want homework,” Rika said, throwing a hand in the air lazily as she looked at her phone while laying on her back, her feet kicked up on the couch armrest. “I just want to stab monsters and get Ore.”

“Sure,” Den accepted immediately. “If I am going to join a party with this one, I think I would prefer that anyway. I want to know the rules so we don’t have any more legal problems. One scare was enough.” Den accepted the tablet and gave the Guildmaster his email address and other personal information.

“This is the first time I have registered a party in over ten years now,” the old man said, taking back the tablet and sighing, a warm smile on his lips. “Den Ferdinand Stormbringer07, huh?” The old man’s eyebrows rose and he looked back to Den. “Been a long while since I’ve heard that last name. You Smoke and Mirrors’ grandson?”

“You know my Grandfather?” Den asked.

“He transferred his membership here just before he retired. I didn’t know him in his prime, but his tale gets around. He was a good friend long after he retired.” He gave a tired smile. “This is a pleasant surprise. I needed some good news. I look forward to seeing what kind of adventurers you become.”

Rika jumped up with a fire in her eyes. “We’ve got our eyes set on the Hundreth Layer. The Demon Lord better start packing his bags now. Get that paperwork done, Den. We’re going back in tonight!”

Den groaned. “I’m getting used to it by this point, but just hearing you say it that way makes me even more tired.”

“I’m sending you the agreement forms now. You’ll be able to access it from the Party tab in the Guild App,” the guildmaster said. “Complete the application, agree to the risk disclosure, and decide on which subscription plan and insurance policy you would prefer.”

It took some time to skim a seemingly endless series of liability agreements that waived any responsibility for the Guild in case anyone was injured or killed while adventuring in the Hollows or on a quest. After he finished filling out the basic party member information, Den sent it back to the Guildmaster for review.

The old man looked over their party application on his tablet, his fingers to his chin and squinting through his round frames in concentration. “I have noticed that you left the area pertaining to sponsors empty. Is this a mistake?”

Leaning forward on the desk, Den had tabbed over to his Scope Sisters News app and was scrolling through gaming updates. He looked up in surprise. “I didn’t know anything about that so I skipped it.”

The Guildmaster looked to Chloe who sat on a small stool at the edge of the desk in her rabbit coat, swinging her feet. “I had imagined that if you were joining the team, Ms. Chloe, that the team would fall under sponsorship of the Silvermoon09 Family. Is that not the case?”

Chloe gave her head a little shake, the rabbit ears on her hood swinging. “Chloe wanted to do this on her own.”

The Guildmaster sighed. “I’ll tell you kids straight, I appreciate your spirit, but I must confirm that you are aware of the reality of adventuring.” He set down his tablet and his inset eyes traveled over the five members. Den pushed himself off the desk. Sam paused, holding an old coil of rope. Grengalheim stood with his arms crossed. Rika even sat up on the couch and crossed her legs, giving the Guildmaster her full attention.

The old man leaned forward in his chair and crossed his hands on the desk. “Adventuring is dangerous and often expensive work. It will not be a simple get rich quick endeavour. Many people still think of adventuring as the game it was in the Isekaijin Age, but after the implementation of the Sensibility Revision, it has become much harder for parties without sponsors to be able to supply the necessary capital needed to establish themselves and eventually make the venture worthwhile.” He held each one of them in his gaze for a long moment. “Are you ready for the investment required?”

Rika jumped to her feet and threw a fist to her chest. “I am ready for it all. I know that if we work hard we’ll be able to make it work for sure. There is no way I am backing down before we even start.” She glanced around the room.

Den gave a thumbs up. “I’m in. I have nothing to lose.” Except everything, he thought but decided that at this point he didn’t care. He had no other life left he wanted to build otherwise.

“What kind of adventurer backs down from hard work?” Sam said, pumping a fist.

“Chloe voices no dissent,” she said with a graceful nod.

Lastly, Grengalheim nodded. “While I do wish to leave the option of seeking out sponsorship opportunities in the future,” he gave Chloe a side glance, “I’m fine with paying out of pocket for the time being.”

The Guildmaster ran his hand back through his long white hair pulled back in a ponytail. “I admire your determination. I pray you also have the endurance needed to make it pay off.” He picked up the tablet and scrolled down. “As you have opted for the two week trial period, that leaves us with only a few matters to attend to. We’ll have more to discuss in another week when you make your first payment and enter full self-sponsored Copper-tier membership.”

Rika lifted her nose. “The trial period option skips over all those pesky pay walls. You can praise me later.”

“Well, not all of them,” the Guildmaster said with a chuckle. “You are still bound to pay the temporary membership security fee at the end of your trial period.”

Rika swung to the old man. “Woah, hold up. How much are we talking here?”

“10,000 dabloons per party member.”

Rika went pale and fell to her knees. “You have to be kidding me!” She trembled as she held herself up with her hands. “That’s a whole week of food…”

Den laughed and set a hand down on Rika’s shoulder. “How soon you forget our hard work from last night, leader.” Den walked to the desk and swung off his backpack, unzipping it and tipped it over, Essence Ore pouring onto the table. “Over three hundred pieces. And that’s me alone. A third is Grade E too.”

The old man gave a hearty laugh. “Young man, you’ve shown me maybe ten to fifteen doubloons worth of Ore. You have a lot of work ahead of you.”

Den had hoped that with the increase in Grade E Ore it would have made a difference, but it appeared that they had just barely managed minimum wage.

“We won’t break even forever…” Rika said hollowly, tears running down her cheeks.

Chloe patted Rika’s head and offered her a gentle smile. “It’s okay, money is just a tool. Even if you were broke, Chloe wouldn’t hate you. Probably.”

“Thanks…” Rika sniffed. “Probably…”

“Well, the next step is the party name right?” Sam said, and ducked under a low lamp as they came to the desk. “This is so exciting! In my favorite novel the team named their party after their friend who died. We need to think of something equally epic!”

“Chloe doesn’t want to name the team after Den. She would find that a depressing party name.” Her own bunny ear flopped as she frowned at the thought.

“Now hold on, why do you immediately assume I would be the first to die?” Den asked. “Grengalheim has been down way more than I have!”

The party members were silent as they looked between the two men on the team.

“Setting aside the obvious fact that Den would be the first of us to die,” Rika continued, “I already decided on a party name,” Rika said.

Den immediately had a bad feeling. He tabbed over to the party information section. At some point she’d changed the title. ‘Rika’s Awesome Party’ filled the blank followed by the automatically generated word Party. Without a single reservation, he deleted the first two words.

Sam laughed. “So we’re Party Party?”

“That information won’t be official until you advance from the trial,” the Guildmaster said. “You can take your time to decide on a name. For now, we can complete your party registration.”

Rika threw herself to her feet and pressed up against Den’s side, squinting suspiciously at the smartphone screen. “Oh, that’s where the setup settings are. You’d think that since the Guild was once the biggest company in the world they’d have a better app interface…”

Following the Guildmaster’s instructions, their five accounts were soon tied and they had come to the finalization screen. “Accept the terms of agreement and give your digital signature at the bottom and your party will be registered to Suburb 23,” the Guildmaster instructed.

Rika swiped past the incredibly long stream of small text and clicked the box completing the form in a flourish. Den attempted to skim the detailed text for a couple paragraphs before his tired brain gave in and he too accepted. At that point there wasn’t anything that would stop him.

“Should I be worried that the Guild holds no responsibility for if we are injured or killed?” Sam asked, raising a finger.

“Probably, but we just have to be awesome and make sure that doesn’t happen,” Rika said with a deep nod, her arms crossed. She opened one eye. “Also the chances of us getting maimed or killed in the early Stratum are super low, like really no problem.”

Sam hesitated a moment longer before giving a nod and scrolling on. “I suppose that danger comes with the profession.”

“Follow proper precautions, and there should be no problem,” Chloe said, drawing her hand back into her sleeve after accepting. “You’re much more likely to die choking on food or in a traffic accident.”

Sam paused in their reading before shaking their head and scrolling on to complete the form. “That does not make me feel better.”

“By the time you venture deep enough that you might be concerned about becoming severely injured you’ll be past the trial and under Adventurers’ Insurance,” the Guildmaster assured them. “We should decide on a plan now. Let me open the program.”

Rika deflated with a low whine. “We’re so close. Can’t we do that later, old man? We’re not going to get hurt in the First Stratum.”

The man paused before chuckling softly. “I suppose this is the moment of starting your party. We can discuss insurance plans next time.” The Guildmaster crossed his hands and gave them a smile. “Well that settles it. Congratulations everyone. And great news for the suburb indeed. Another Grengalheim has joined his first party. Your father is going to be ecstatic,” the guildmaster said.

“Hm,” Grengalheim said, stowing his phone and crossing his arms. “When he learns.”

The old man gave a small nod and his gaze grew sharp as he looked them all over. “Welcome to the Suburb 23 Guild. I hope you will make it through the trial. Don’t disappoint me.”

---

Outside the Guildhouse in the shade of tall buildings lining the street, Den stood with his arms crossed in deep thought. A lazy crowd of old people walked down the street, going to dark restaurants or entering the stacked shops. “Problem one: paying off the Guild Entrance Fee.”

“It was only you and Rika who weren’t able to pay for the application fee,” Grengalheim said.

“Chloe will be there when you least expect it to show you true darkness if you do not repay her kindness in full for covering your portion.” The fake cutesy giggle Chloe delivered that statement with as she cracked her knuckles gave Den a chill and a glimpse of the fear she promised.

“And I am very thankful for it,” he said. “Aren’t we both, Rika?”

Rika put her hands on her hips and held up her nose. “I could have paid, but I didn’t want Den to be the only one in debt.”

Den attempted to block the intense gaze Chloe shot Rika, and felt his life shortened as result.

Sam stood in the light a step out into the street, their smooth skin shining as they drummed their fingers against their chin, looking up in thought. “So if we can only pull maybe ten doubloons each thirty-minute run of the Second Layer…” They sighed. “Then we spend ten doubloons each on dinner… in the next ten days, we’ll need to be running the Hollows at least twice a day to earn back the trial fee.”

“It’s not a free membership if you have to pay for it…” Rika grumbled. “Cheapskates.”

“Don’t forget the monthly 30,000 doubloons we’re going to have to immediately pay as soon as we move onto full membership,” Grengalheim said.

“We’re just going to have to hope that we start earning more as we move on into the lower layers,” Den said with a weak laugh, but cold sweat forming. We need to run through twice a day just to pay off the trial? he thought. How many times a day would that be to earn 30,000 more!? “Even if we sprinted the half dozen runs it would take, the Guild won’t be open past four… What’s up with that anyway?”

“That’s a government office for you,” Sam said with a half grin.

Den had woken that morning feeling as if he had been hit by a train after their adventurers the night before. “As I do not want to be killed by Chloe in my sleep, I’m ready to give it as many runs as my body can take today. Let’s head over.” He turned to take the closest street leading uphill to the Primordial Hollows.

Grengalheim raised his palms. “Oh, sorry, I won’t be able to join today. I have the afternoon shift at the store.” He rubbed the back of his head. “Also Monday evening I go to the gym.”

“Why do you need to go to the gym if you’re already that muscular?” Den asked, roundly disgusted and depressed. “And isn’t adventuring crazy exercise on its own?”

“You’re not worried about the fact it will be harder without him in the party?” Sam asked.

That was true too. He sighed and looked at the others. “I guess we can make it through the Second Layer with four well enough.”

Rika raised a sheepish hand. “I have work from noon to six.” She gave a weak smile. “And I need to make a new Pointy Stick of Destruction.”

Den rolled his eyes. “For being the first one to loudly claim you were all in to be an adventurer, you sure aren’t seeming like it now.” His gaze fell on Chloe and Sam. “You two abandoning me too?”

Sam waved a hand. “I do have a couple part time jobs here and there, but nothing today! I am always down to party when I’m not working!”

Chloe gave one deep nod. “Chloe is prepared this day to protect Den. Unlike other disappointing members who will go unnamed besides Grengalheim, Chloe can choose when she completes her orders.”

“If it was actually just me, I might just die,” Den said, pumping a fist. “Three will do.”

“Don’t expect to pull ten doubloons of Essence Ore with that number,” Grengalheim warned. “I recommend you three push on into the Third Layer, but use the Slip Tiara if anything gets out of hand. We can always make up for the Ore loss.”

“Chloe does not see the point in getting Grengalheim’s opinion. He is no adventurer, he is a janitor. Chloe and friends already know that without you having to tell us. Den has thought ten steps ahead.”

I have? He was their planner, but if that was a requirement of the job, he was going to seriously disappoint. But seriously, what was the drama between these two? Den supposed that with his name being the one brought up, it was his duty to de-escalate the situation regardless of how unprepared he was for that task. “He was the only one of us registered with the guild,” Den said with a forced smile. “If anything, he’s the only one of us who is a real adventurer.”

Chloe shook her head. “If Grengalheim had wanted to be a real adventurer, he would have done something about it a long time ago. He will never become one.”

“I will.” Grengalheim spoke suddenly and with surety. He walked ahead of the group and turned to face them, standing tall.

Chloe rolled her eyes. “If Grengalheim had actually wanted to do that he would not be playing adventurer only once every three months. He could have joined one of the other existing parties.”

“And join a party of old people? I was the youngest member of the Guild, I’ll remind you. I’m not about to step into parties that have been settled for decades.”

“Then why not transfer districts?” Chloe asked. “There are plenty of young people in the Starter Town Guild.”

“And join the rich kids? I don’t think so. Anyway, you know what my role is here.”

“Chloe’s mother thinks that if Grengalheim had not been wasting his time at the convenience store, by now he--”

“I don’t care what your mother thinks, Chloe,” Grengalheim interjected. “Doesn’t she only visit the suburb four times a year? Does that mean that she is just ‘playing’ at being a Suburb 23 aristocrat?”

The two glared at each other for a hot moment until Grengalheim broke his gaze, looking down. “I will fulfill the Grengalheim destiny.”

No one spoke as a heavy tension hung in the air. Rika stepped up as the leader of the team. “We’ll figure out a schedule. I mean, even if we wanted to, we can’t run the Hollows every day all day, right?”

“Of course,” Sam quickly agreed. “For now we’re going to have to rely on our jobs to help us through the first few Guild payments.”

Chloe scoffed and turned her head aside. “As long as Grengalheim doesn’t lose track of the goal.”

At that, Grengalheim’s shoulders sagged a bit. “I won’t, Chloe. I’m ready to follow my destiny.” He paused. “I’m finally tired of waiting.”

Chloe’s rabbit ear perked up at that. “Oh? That is good. Better late than never to decide to live for yourself.”

The two seemed to have come to some sort of understanding. Den took a deep breath and let it tremble out, the weight of the work ahead falling on him. “It’s nearly eleven now. I am dead on my feet, but I will do my best.”

Rika gave a nod, her face more serious than usual. “I’ll make it up to you all tomorrow. As soon as I have a new pointy stick I’ll be ready.” She paused and looked at Chloe. “You said you take 3D orders, yes?”

“For paying customers.”

Rika winced. “Do you make pointy sticks?”

“Rika asks Chloe a moronic question,” Chloe declared. “That task will take but a moment. Perhaps Chloe shall make and test one at the end of the trial if she has not been paid back by bad kitties.”

The group grabbed a quick lunch at their now well loved convenience store. With a promise of support the next day from both Rika and Grengalheim, they headed out in opposite directions. With the remaining two, Den wound his way through the dense high buildings of downtown and through the walled houses climbing the hillside until they arrived again on the steep hill that led up to the Primordial Hollows. At the clearing, Den was surprised to find the windows of the old Guildhouse glowing.

Coming to the propped open front doors in an apron and rubber gloves, the Guildmaster declared that with more parties like theirs to come, pulling out hauls of Essence Ore, it was time to reopen shop. “Much easier to store the Ore here than in the downtown main office.”

Entering the Hollows, Chloe paused at the Connecting Crystal. Den pulled out his phone and Guild Badge, seeing that since they had cleared the Second Layer, there was now an option to teleport down to the Connecting Crystal chamber of the Third Layer. “Ready for the next layer, team?” Den asked.

“No,” Chloe said. She looked left at Sam. “Sam does have more than just their Enchanted Item, yes?”

Sam who had been standing with their hands in their baggy pockets pulled them out with a big grin on their face. Their fists were decked in brass knuckles. “My Momma told me these Knucklebusters served her well on and off the ship.”

Den was duly impressed. He was actually a bit jealous that Sam had parents that supported adventuring. At the very least, Sam was starting a million miles ahead of Den. “If I can make a hammer and screwdriver work, that should be fine.”

Chloe gave her approval as well. “How cute.” She then walked on past the Connecting Crystal, moving on to the opening of the First Layer.

“Uh, Chloe, aren’t we going to the Third Layer?” Den asked.

Chloe turned back. “No. Chloe is claiming executive authority in Rika’s absence. As Chloe does not want to do what Grengalheim suggested, she raises the idea of running the First Layer as many times as possible before the Guild closes.”

Neither Den or Sam opposed the idea. In fact, Den was starting to feel comfortable in the First Layer. If that worked out, maybe they’d be able to even pull out more Ore with less effort with enough runs.

They moved forward into the layer. After the nonstop battle Grengalheim’s presence had brought them, Den was thankful for the lowered monster spawn rate. The first time Den took down a Giant Rat, he heard the click of a camera behind. He turned back to see Sam taking a selfie of them all with the exploding monster. When they finished, they stowed their phone with a careless grin. “Awesome! First monster killed as a team-- recorded!”

The three kept solid pace, hardly even stopping as Chloe and Sam led the way, smashing the rats and slimes that spawned. Den pulled his weight, but the heaviest hitter of the three turned out to be Sam who managed to take down almost every monster with a single punch. Their Knucklebusters even fared better than Den’s rock when they met a skeleton as the final boss. The Guildmaster accepted the first haul twenty minutes later with a soft humph as he scanned the lot with his phone. “Four doubloons apiece.”

They returned. After another three runs, they called a quick break, laying in the grass outside the Hollows to catch their breath.

“Hey, Chloe,” Sam said, laying with their hands behind their head. “What happened between you and Grengalheim anyway? Were you partners or something?”

Chloe lay facedown with her face in the grass. She lifted her head, her eyes half lidded and looking almost sad. “No,” she said. “Chloe and Grengalheim have never had a relationship like that.”

“Then why do you go at him like that?” Sam asked.

Den wanted to know too. He’d also wondered if they had been partners. Their unsorted drama was obvious.

“Chloe regrets how mean her words come off,” she said softly. “Chloe feels emotions and the words that come out are not as graceful as Chloe wishes they could be. She was raised to know her manners, but when she must speak, her words are never right. She doesn’t want to hurt him...” She puffed out her cheeks, her brow furrowing. “But every time Chloe sees Grengalheim it fills her with such frustration. She can’t stand him.”

“Did he do something to make you hate him so much? Den asked.

“Chloe doesn’t hate Grengalheim,” she said, her puffed cheeks shifting into a pout. “It’s not what he did-- it’s what he didn’t do.” She watched an ant walk by slowly in the grass below her nose. “Chloe looked up to Grengalheim. He was an adventurer. He was amazing. He was going to become the greatest Grengalheim the world had ever known.” She rolled over in the grass, a heavy sadness weighing on her face. “But then he didn’t. He gave it all up.” She grit her teeth. “For nothing. That’s why Chloe can’t accept his words now. She can’t go easy on him.”

“From what he said earlier, it didn’t sound like he really had a choice,” Sam said. “There were no other parties forming before we came around and I wouldn’t want to go make a party with rich kids in Stater Town either.”

“Excuses,” Chloe mumbled. “Chloe knows. She knows why Grengalheim gave up on being an adventurer.”

“There’s another reason?” Den asked.

Chloe was silent. When she spoke, her voice was weak and filled with a bittersweet pain. “Chloe shouldn’t say. Chloe knows too much. She will not talk about Grengalheim’s choices that have nothing to do with her.”

Den didn’t know exactly what had gone down between the two of them, but he now understood that Chloe did care a considerable amount for Grengalheim. Den had a few close friends he talked to online like Laserw0lf, but he wasn’t sure if a single one of them had even given him as much consideration as Chloe seemed to give Grengalheim. It was enough to make him jealous. You’re a lucky guy, Grengalheim, to have such a cute girl think this much of you. Chloe claimed Grengalheim had disappointed her, but at least he’d given others hope in the first place. That was more than a lifelong disappointment like Den could say.

After a few moments in heavy contemplation, Chloe pushed herself up, her face shifting into determined indignation, a few strands of grass sticking to her cheek. “Enough of Grengalheim. Chloe is with her friends. She wants to adventure and have fun and make good memories. She gives the call of forward march!”

They ran the level again and again until the sun tilted for the horizon. While Den had hoped that repeating the First Layer would be easier, it seemed all it meant was more running. They returned to the guild, both Chloe and Sam covered in sweat and breathing heavily, but not struggling to heft their backpacks onto the long counter of the Guildhall. Den limped behind, his shirt soaked through and fell into a squat on the Guild floor, bled completely empty.

While they had been busy, the Guildmaster had done good work too. The windows on the first floor had the boards removed, letting in pale outside light. The large hall made to handle dozens of people was still dim, the wooden floor covered in a thick layer of dust. The long tables that once hosted adventurers sat with benches and chairs flipped up. Only a single electric light over the first advisor cubicle here in the back of the room was turned on. Still, even if it was worn down and dirty, this was a huge improvement compared to the building downtown.

The Guildmaster scanned in their lot and handed Chloe their small change. He finished logging the haul on his tablet, slipped it into a side bag then pushed his way out of the turnstyle door to the advisor booth. “Good work today youngins. You’re pulling almost minimum wage out of the First Stratum with only a team of three. That’s impressive.” Den couldn’t even give that depressing reality a voice of retort, given his soul seemed like it would leave his haggard body at any moment. The Guildmaster stretched his back. “It’s good to be back in the old hall, but that’s about a day for me.”

“But it’s only 3:30,” Sam said. “I was thinking maybe we could manage one more run before the Guild closes.”

“The Downtown Branch is open until four,” the Guildmaster said. “The Fortress-front Branch is only open until 3:30 unfortunately.”

Sam sighed. “Of course it is.”

Chloe puffed out her cheeks. “Chloe is displeased her party can only make one run after-hours before having to drop Ore off at home.”

The Guildmaster ran his hand down his beard. “Let’s see if we can’t do something about that.”

They helped the man carry the day’s worth of Ore in burlap bags into an inner room where he stored it in a massive safe. Den considered that a bit much for hardly 5000 doubloons of Ore. From there, they made their way over to a back wall of the hall’s main room. A stretch of busted and dented lockers stood with their doors hanging open in a corner of the room. “As an inn, the main doors and Ore turn-in counter were once always open. But now with the doors to the building being locked at 3:30, these lockers don’t help anyone here.”

Den knew where this was going. While it was emotionally less stressful work, the four of them worked together to heave a single three-by-three locker unit onto a dolly cart and with great difficulty wheeled the heavy mess down the cracked concrete path over and into the Primordial Hollows. They dropped it in the Connection Crystal chamber and pushed it against the wall.

Heaving, Den asked, “Don’t you have an Enchanted Item that lets you use telekinesis or something?”

“Sure,” the old man said. “If I wanted to use up three of your runs of Essence Ore. Think of it as training!” He let out a cackling laugh.

After all that work, the Guildmaster then informed them that each locker space must be rented individually. They didn’t really have a choice then. So after everything, they exited the Hollows with a month's locker rental for each member of the party and only enough change to cover dinner.

Den’s stomach growled, and he listlessly meandered forward with his arms hanging. “Five doubloons. What can I eat with five doubloons again?” he mumbled.

Sensing their disheartenment, in an upbeat voice the Guildmaster said, “I do have good news,” the Guildmaster continued. “In a few weeks we’ll be receiving a new outdoors scanner. Then you can turn in your crystal after-hours too, though there will be an off-hours transaction fee. I also believe the pay won’t be added to your account until you withdraw during business hours.”

“Of course it is,” Sam said tiredly. Sam usually met things with impressive optimism, but now they even seemed depressed at the thought of yet more ways their hard earned Ore would be parceled away in bits and pieces.

“Chloe will now make the executive decision as acting leader to call it a day.” She came to Den and patted his head. “I don’t think Den will make it through another run.”

Without the will to refuse that reality, the team stored their backpacks and weapons in the lockers, locking them with the Guild App. They separated without even a trip to the convenience store, given Sam had an evening shift and Chloe had chores to do at home. For the final dreamlike stretch down the hill at dusk, Den was thankful that he was at least light without his armor and tools. Compared to the wide grid streets he was used to in the capital, the random tight streets that wound up the hillside suburb were a hopeless maze.

Finally he made it back. The house was filled with the delicious aroma of cooking stew. GrandPre promised she’d even prepare a serving for him if he shaved off his layer of earth and sweat. After an incredibly satisfying steamy shower that threatened to wash all of Den down the drain, he came to the table in a clean tee and ready to eat, wind down, and sleep like the dead before morning came and he would have to return to his landscaping gig.

With his grandmother setting the table, Den turned over to his Scope Sister’s app to see if Laser and his friends had again placed in the final day of free ranking. As he drew down on the newsfeed, no new information came in, instead offering a no internet announcement. Sure enough he found he was disconnected. He knit his eyebrows. His family had an infinite data plan. What could have gone wrong? A shiver of premonition ran through him. It took only a moment longer for him to find a message from his mother he'd missed while they had been running through the Hollows. He broke out in a new sweat.

Sorry for the sudden notice, but with the spike in electricity prices, we have to drop the family data plan. I hope you can soon afford a replacement! Good luck! Sending love!

Den sighed. Great. Just my luck. Just one more way his life was inconvenienced. This hurt more than many of his other losses. It just felt wrong to be without internet. Despite his exhaustion, he knew he must face a monster far scarier than any he’d met in the Hollows. After all, there was no life without internet. He cautiously eyed his grandmother at the stove checking a softly boiling pot. “Hey GrandPre,” he said, “What’s the wifi password?”

“There is no wifi,” she said simply without looking up from her food.

Den’s mouth opened and closed like a suffocating fish while trying to wrap his mind around that outrageous concept. “What do you mean there’s no wifi?” When he moved out to the suburbs he didn’t think he was being transported back to the dark ages.

“If I need to communicate with someone, I call them,” his grandmother explained slowly as if every word was painfully obvious. “If you must use the internet, you may use the computer in the library. I have a pay by hour internet box you can turn on. I will keep track of your data-usage for payment later if you decide to use it.”

After filling up on dinner, itchy the whole time not knowing what was happening with all his people online, Den ran down the hallway and into the library-- a tight room, his grandmother had filled wall to wall with bookshelves. A desk in the back of the room seemed like an after-thought shoved between two shelves. The hard wicker chair creaked as he settled into it. He picked up a closed laptop in the corner across from an honest-to-goodness paper dictionary. He was terrified to think that his grandmother might use them in equivalent amounts. If it wasn’t for his grandmother’s daily cleaning of the house, he was sure that there would be a layer of dust on the computer.

The machine ran on a processor old enough that Den recognized it at a glance to be beyond support. Once he manually plugged in the corner hourly internet box, however, he was pleased to find that while nothing like his own lightning-speed build, he was at least able to download the desktop Chaos app and change the background from the install default. He didn’t care what his grandmother thought of the Starter Town Primordial Hollows Cathedral background, the default background could not stay. It was a crime against all that is holy.

As soon as the first message came in from LazerW0lf, a strange shiver of uneasiness ran through Den. I read your first post! I can’t believe you already have party members you’re adventuring in the Primordial Hollows with! Can you call?

With a quick inspection of the dinosaur he was running, Den relayed the unfortunate situation. I don’t think the computer I am on has a microphone or webcam.

What kind of prison cell are you in?

He spent the better part of a half hour messaging with Laser, out of the corner of his eye carefully watching the internet box in the corner of the desk count his minutes. Den wasn’t planning on spending any more than the first hour’s five doubloons. That’s all he had left after all. In the end, LazerWolf said, Of all things, I didn’t think that you’d have so much fun doing something so active. I’m happy for you. Honestly it’s a shock, I guess I didn’t know you as well as I thought.

Somehow that statement twisted in Den’s chest. It’s not like I chose this, he clarified. It just happened by chance. I would have left and given up if Rika didn’t show up.

But you did choose it. You put yourself in the right place at the right time. You’re in a world completely different from me now, man.

Den didn’t know what to say to that. He wasn’t sure if it was a compliment or not. LaserW0lf had been his one friend to stick with him through the hardest times the last five years. He did not like this gap that had so suddenly ripped open between them. While I am excited to adventure, once I have enough Essence Ore to pay the bills and get my computer back, I’ll be back online.

Why?

LaserW0lf’s statement hit Den like a punch to the stomach. Every part of him wanted to fight against it, but he found himself paralyzed over the keyboard without the words to properly refute the question. LaserW0lf continued, I don’t know how hard adventuring is on you, but I do know how hard avoiding life was. Escaping in games hurt you more than it helped, but I didn’t know what else to do but be there with you. From the pictures you uploaded, it looks like you’re having a ton of fun-- and you’re earning money, even if it is just dimes and nickels. As your friend, I want you to give that your everything. There’s no gaming future left for people like you and me.

Den sat in his chair for a full five minutes after reading that, well aware he was on the clock. He knew LaserW0lf didn’t intend it, but he felt the gap between them stretch into a wide valley. I can’t just give up everything I’ve been doing all this time. I love gaming and the online community, he wrote at last. I wanted to write about how fun it is.

But you have a chance for something greater now. The story you told me-- that’s not the story of a loser who lives in his parents’ house. You have a chance to become someone really badass! The next message caused Den’s heart to skip a beat. Even if we can’t game together anymore, I’m rooting for you! They said their goodbyes at that point to let Laser get in as many games as possible before midnight struck and the gaming world Den knew would end-- only the richest of players able to climb over the paywalls.

Turning off the internet at the source before he ran out the hour, Den collapsed back in the squeaking chair. He had been so pumped and inspired to adventure the past few days, but now this was the first time he realized that even if he was able to pay his grandmother and buy his computer back, the world he had lived and breathed in was gone. There was no going back. With the way things were shaping up, he wouldn’t ever be able to play Scope Sisters with Laser and their friends ever again. The game they’d spent tens of thousands on loot boxes and put in an equal number of hours now was beyond their payrange.

A tear ran down his cheek. He wiped it away angrily. Am I seriously crying about gaming? He knew that showed just how pathetic of a human being he was. That game franchise had been his life for over a decade. It was his life. And now it was gone. He had lost his home, his computer, but losing the portal that connected him to his friends-- that hurt. He couldn’t help sitting and crying softly to himself. It wasn’t fair. And he was even more petty for thinking he deserved better than anyone else.

His body heavy with regret over a life wasted and now pointless, Den found he was still alive. His heart hung heavy. I’m a failure as a human being. He’d lost everything he’d thought was his. He’s lost his online community. He’d even lost his connection to his friends. He was nothing. But even in his despair that said that, leaving him feeling like a heavy hunk of meat taking up space and wasting oxygen, a small voice managed to whisper, but now you can be an adventurer.

It was true that he was now a registered adventurer. The crawling self loathing under his skin was not impressed however. I’ve started a million projects, but have I ever finished a single one of them? Has anything I’ve tried to start added up to anything? No. Day by day, he was becoming more aware of the cost of living as an adventurer. Did he really think he had what it takes to become a career adventurer? Even when he’d had the full support of his friends and parents he didn’t have the willpower, skill, or charisma to make it as a gaming streamer.

He didn’t know the first thing about the world of adventuring. He was a fat idiot without any strength of body or heart to speak of. It was comical to even think that at his age he could try to start over and go from being an indoor nerd to a money earning adventurer. He would just disappoint everyone again.

Even as the voice in his head whispered that over and over, he remembered the smiles he’d shared with his party members. He was a failure of a human, but they still accepted him. Each of them was so much better than him, but they still let him chase after them. He held them back every run of the Hollows and yet they still lifted their beers with him at the end of the day at the convenience store.

They’ll get tired of me soon enough when I lose steam and make this project fail too…

And yet, it was so fun. He knew with how weak he was and how much they had to do to get their party off the ground, it was far more likely this mission would fail like every other project Den had started, and yet-- he really wanted to believe they could do it. It was just so fun. He’d thought that countless times before about games and online streaming, blogging, and video making projects, but this time-- this time he wanted to make it count for something.

The longer Den sat on the concept of an adventure blog, the more plausible it came into view. His tears slowed and against all his expectations, the heaviness of his incredible depression was shifted aside by his small hope. It didn’t make any sense. He would probably fail like every other time, but right now, even with no reason to believe, he found himself getting excited and believing anyway. He wanted to write about his party-- about their dream and silly attempts to start as adventurers-- even if it did all fail. He wanted to try.

With a strange tingling as if he was possessed, he closed ChaosPost and opened the computer’s built-in writing program. He’d never used an off-internet writing service before. He cracked his knuckles and rolled his neck. While he was exhausted, he could feel a new excitement urging him on. Maybe LaserW0lf was right. He had changed. Challenging the Primordial Hollows was one front, but now for the first time in years he felt inspiration to make something. He let his fingers fall on the keyboard.