1. Novice

Reporting to the Guild.

Excerpt from The Hero’s Guild Civic Guidebook 244^th Edition, edited by Guild Archivist Master Tivas Kusheri

 

SAFEHAVEN

The Assembly Hall of the Hero’s Guild in Safehaven is an impressive affair for a town of its size. Nearly double the size of the Town Hall, it stands near the Western Gate, half a mile from the docks at the bottom of Misery Hill, atop which are the town barracks. The building is more functional than ornate, although a graceful statue of Eidoron, patron of the Guild, stands in front of the heavy bronze door.

 

The Main Building is three stories and takes up a city block. Build of stone, it is fortress-like in design, with a massive brick wall fanning out from its wings and surrounding the entire complex, wherein are other facilities of the Guild, including training areas, a medical wing and a surprisingly extensive library.

 

In times of crisis, the Guild’s Main Building has been used as a rallying point for defenders of the town. During the fall of Safehaven in the most recent war against Ur Bathog, it was here that the forces of the Crown made their last stand. 368 men, women and children perished during a three month siege, before the building was breached and the town taken. Although badly damaged, the Main Building was rebuilt following the town’s liberation in 1252. Although Safehaven suffered most grievously during the occupation by Ur Bathog, Guild labor and Guild wizards helped to a large extent to rebuild the town and re-energize its economy. Because of the Guild’s assistance when the town truly needed it, Guild members enjoy a great deal of respect and admiration amongst the town populace, who look upon the Guild as a friend and protector. The reason that the Guild has such a large presence in Safehaven is because the town was generous in the donation of land for the Guild’s usage.

 

Like all Guildhalls, Safehaven’s has a receiving office, where the Chief Steward of the Guildhall takes the report of returning Guild members from the assignments, renders rewards and tenders promotions and occasionally, demotions. Because of the Guild’s lucrative caravan protection trade, the receiving office here is a busy one. A returning Guild member will sometimes have to wait weeks in order to be received and paid, which must be done before another assignment can be accepted. Because of this, the Guild built comfortable dormitories on the grounds for any Guild member to use while awaiting either reception or assignment. The dormitories are nearly always full.

 

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            For any Guild member, the receiving room in a Guildhall is one of the two most important rooms there. In that room, the fruits of their labors are analyzed, and the rewards for those labors handed out. Most Guild members enter the receiving room with a mixture of fear and anticipation. For Jordan Armstead, Chief Steward of the Safehaven chapter of the Hero’s Guild, it was a place where much of his day was spent, so he took great pains to make sure that the room was comfortable. Large floor-to-ceiling windows let in the sea’s cooling breezes in the summer and the sun’s warming rays in the winter. The room was generously appointed, with great, comfortable leather chairs, tables made of solid Trinosian oak, and a beautiful desk handcrafted in Ekoningsberg of rich mahogany.

            Jordan Armstead had started his Guild life as an apprentice and rose through the ranks with relative speed. At 45, he was a stocky, handsome man with wiry brown hair that curled on the top of his square head. Skin bronzed by numerous outdoor campaigns carried the scars of battles and melees large and small. That he lived still was a testament to his prowess as a fighter. That he was Chief Steward was a testament to his wisdom, leadership skills and experience.

            Duty is a concept that is central to Jordan Armstead’s existence. He is loyal to his Guild and the Realm, serving both with an unwavering devotion. If you asked him, he would tell you he is content to use his talents as his Guild thought best, but deep down he misses the simplicity of mission and melee, assignment and achievement. He is a man of action who has been called upon to give up his sword and take up the pen. He has done so without complaint, both because he knows his experience makes him more valuable in the Guildhall than he would be in the field, but also because he is not a man who complains about anything. It is simply not his nature to do so. Therefore, the burden of his office carries more weight with him then it might with other men.

            The office of Chief Steward carries with it many responsibilities. Armstead is an arbiter to disputes, liaison to government officials and other guilds, and evaluator of his members. There are other Stewards who assist him, to be sure. None were more valuable to him as his own daughter Ayren, an able administrator as well as a Journeyman in her own right, all the more remarkable as she is only 22 years old. In that sense, she took after her father, who reached that level of skill when he was barely 20.

            As stocky as Jordan Armstead is, Ayren Armstead is lithe and sleek, fair of face and feature with green eyes that had seen much more than most 22-year-old girls in the Realm. She is an accomplished outdoorsman and guide �" few know the trails of the Westmarch as well as she does. Some say she has elvish blood in her veins, which is possible �" her mother was a tavern maid in Shile who died shortly after Ayren was born, and even Jordan knew very little about her background. Ayren was raised by her father, who along with her wilderness skills, taught her how to fight, and the rudiments of thievery and magic.

            Like her father, Ayren has spent more time in bedrolls than beds, eaten more trail rations than hot meals. As her father’s administrative right hand, she is his research assistant, organizer and occasionally, his receptionist. She aids him, advises him and eases his burden as best she can. She is a beautiful woman, yes, but prefers not to show off her beauty, nor use it to her advantage. It is said about her that she loves her father and no other man, which is true for the moment. In her heart, Ayren Armstead yearns for something, but like so many of us, isn’t quite sure what it is she yearns for and that has been the central issue of her 22 years of life. Her father knows this, but is helpless to advise her, as most fathers are. Still, as important as duty is to Jordan, it is so to Ayren as well and those personal needs the Armsteads might have had over the years have been submerged to the job at hand, and all the others to come. It is the only reality they know.

            The day began like any other for Jordan Armstead, Chief Steward of the Safehaven Chapter of the Heroes Guild. He rose early and arrived at the Guildhall before dawn. Waiting for him there was Ayren, proffering a cup of freshly brewed tea. She noticed a particular tension in her father, which didn’t surprise her. Although he usually kept her well-informed on Guild business, there had been an item as of late that he had mostly kept from her. Still, being quick-witted and resourceful, she had managed to discover much on her own.

            “What have we to do today, daughter?” asked Jordan, sipping the hot brew with a sigh. Ayren was aware that Jordan knew full well what was on his calendar for the day, but he started every day with the same question, knowing the answer in advance. Nevertheless, she always answered him as she believed the ritual helped focus her father on the day’s agenda. She consulted an appointment book in which she kept meticulous notes, again a superfluous action as she knew precisely what was in store for the day. “Mayor de Bont is expecting you at lunch today. There is a delegation from the Council of Colors arriving this afternoon.” She looked at him meaningfully. “Lord Kidd is leading it.”

            Jordan nodded. “That is to be expected. I’m sure he knew Aquilan was here before I did.” He took another sip of tea and then remarked offhandedly, “I read the truthscry’s report on Giles Morven’s assignment. Quite remarkable.” Ayren said nothing, but Jordan noticed that she stiffened. He knew full well that she was aware what was going on. He had raised his daughter to be no man’s fool. Inwardly, he chuckled. “Do you suppose that Lord Kidd had a hand in it?” She smiled at that. “Never directly, father. It is an amazing report.”

            His smile faded. “Aye. I do not believe for a moment that even he would make a move like that. It would be pointing a finger for Ur Bathog to follow right to its prize. Christopher Kidd did not become who he is by being foolish.” He made a gesture of waving off. “Although Mayor de Bont will wish to monopolize Lord Kidd’s time, I will speak to him privately. I believe he will be surprised at what transpired in the Westmarch as much as we are.” Ayren nodded in agreement. With an abrupt dismissive gesture, Jordan strode for his desk where the day’s paperwork awaited him, including the aforementioned truthscry report. “In any case, it is time I must speak with Giles Morvern and Tristan Scarborough. Are they here now?”

 “I believe so.”

 “Give me a moment, then show them in.”

            Ayren nodded and walked out the doors to an anteroom, where the two Guild members waited in comfortable padded chairs. The décor complimented that of the office of the Chief Steward. She smiled brightly and said “Steward Armstead will be with you shortly. Your patience is appreciated.” The older man, whom she knew to be Morvern, grunted in acknowledgement. The younger man smiled back at her and gave her a courteous nod of the head.

            Ayren Armstead was not one whose head was easily turned by a man, but she found herself almost staring at the youth. It wasn’t the muscles �" Eidoron knows there were plenty of muscle-bound men in the halls of the Guild who would fill her bed if she wanted. It wasn’t even his good looks and dazzling smile; there were many pubs in Safehaven and many handsome men. No, it was something else. Maybe it was the twinkle in his eyes, the brash tilt of his head, or the crookedness of his smile. More likely a combination of all of them, the Gods only knew for sure. All Ayren knew is that this young man in front of her was something special, and that she was interested in Tristan Scarborough. VERY interested. She returned to her father’s office, her mind whirling. Jordan had the truthscry’s scroll open on his desk, and didn’t notice her come in. She sat down nearby and waited.

            After a few minutes, he looked up and nodded at her. She nodded back and stood. “Are you well, Ayren? You look flushed.” Ayren started. “I’m all right, father. I did not sleep well last night, that’s all.” Her father nodded sympathetically. Truth be told, he hadn’t slept well last night either, but for reasons his daughter wouldn’t have suspected and would have been frightened out of ten years of her life had she known. Of course, she would know, and very soon - this very afternoon, in fact. He sighed, wondering why he was cursed to live in such interesting times. “Show them in, then.”

            Ayren opened the door to the anteroom and beckoned the two men in. Both Giles and Tristan wore clean cloaks, tunics and breaches, and their boots were brightly polished. Both of them had bathed and shaved the night before. “You do not want to see the Chief Steward of ANY Guildhall looking like you’ve just fallen off a horse,” Morvern had told Scarborough when the summons had come, “’Less you know something he really has to hear, and you have just fallen off a horse in getting there.”

            Upon arrival at any Guildhall following the completion of any assignments, all Guild members go first to the Guild truthscries. Truthscries are Guild mages with highly perceptive senses, able to differentiate truth from fiction. Through magical means, they could verify that the terms of an assignment had been met, or not. Any and all evidence of the completion of the assignment (which in this case had been the merchant’s verified and signed consignment scroll), of monsters killed (Giles had thought to present the front paws of three of the four griffins) as well as any treasure recovered were presented at that time. The truthscry would then dictate a report to a scrivener, who would have the report brought to the Chief Steward, who evaluated the information.

            The procedure is not without stress; some Guild members find it distasteful and others find it downright offensive. Most consider it a tedious necessity in order to receive their compensation. Giles and Tristan had been in the truthscriery much longer than most, since the truthscry found it incredible that a single apprentice had not only slain one of the most dangerous monsters in the Westmarch, but had killed four of them, and using a murdertree as a tool in the process. However, after extensive spellcasting, the truthscry had determined that incredible or not, he could not detect any lie in what the adventurers had claimed and recommended the highest possible honors. Jordan had read the report, wondering if the mage who had written it had any idea just who the young apprentice was. He wondered if anyone did. He sighed, knowing that if his suspicions were correct, it would signify a profound change in his world and change the lives of everyone in it.

            The men entered Jordan’s office and he indicated that they should sit. Once they had been seated, he asked them politely if they wanted anything. Both men declined, having had a hearty breakfast before coming to the receiving office. The Chief Steward sat down and held the scroll before him again, although by this time he was well aware of what it said. “Three griffins. Just amazing,” said the Chief Steward, as if he could not believe it. Giles cleared his throat. “Beggin’ your pardon, Steward Armstead, but it was truly four. Th’lad lured the fourth into the clutches of a murdertree, so we were unable to retrieve the proof.” Armstead nodded. “I saw that in the report, Journeyman Morvern, as well as the testimony of the caravanserai. I’m inclined to give you credit for slaying the fourth beast.” He looked up at his daughter to make sure she was notating it, and caught her sneaking an admiring look at Scarborough. He filed that away for future reference.

            The steward turned to the journeyman. “It is rare, don’t you think, for four griffins to attack a caravan of that size.” Morvern nodded in agreement. “Indeed, Steward Armstead. The drought is making them desperate. Many waterholes on the route were greatly diminished, and several were dried up completely. If rain doesn’t fall soon, the land route to Shile may well be impossible for a caravan of any size to transverse without a powerful mage to conjure water.” Armstead frowned. “I don’t think anyone has realized that conditions were that bad in the Westmarch. I will meet with Mayor de Bont later today and your report will figure prominently in our discussions. He has been resisting the hiring of weather wizards, but I believe that the expense is not merely justified, it is necessary at this time. Your report confirms this.”

            They discussed for the next hour the effects of the drought on the trade route, which water sources were particularly critical, and which parts of the route would require more vigilance for travelers. At last, the Chief Steward gestured for his daughter to come over, and he whispered something into her ear. She smiled, nodded, and left the office. Jordan returned his attention to the two Guild members delivering their report, who rose to their feet. “Giles Morvern,” said the Chief Steward, his formal tone causing the journeyman to stiffen a little as if a military man on parade at attention, “You have done well as usual. Your report is thorough and useful. You have obviously done well in training apprentice Scarborough here, so for this in addition to the fee you are owed for this assignment, the Guild is awarding you 300 additional gold pieces as a bonus. Your report will save lives. Well done, journeyman.” Giles bowed low, thanking the Chief Steward in low respectful tones.

            Armstead turned to the younger man. “As for you, son, it is remarkable for an apprentice to take down a single griffin, let alone four. May I ask where you acquired your skill with a crossbow?” Tristan shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “I’m afraid I cannot say, Chief Steward. I have no memory of life before three years ago, when Steward Scarborough of the Shile Guild found me wandering the streets of Shile, delirious with the shaking sickness. He nursed me back to health and I gave myself to the Guild for training, but it turned out that little training was necessary. I don’t remember any formal combat training, and yet I am able to use bow and blade and cudgel as if I had been well-trained. The Steward of the Shile Guildhall believes that I was trained by skilled Guildsmen in combat, thievery and magic, but the extent of my skills is yet unknown, for I cannot consciously recall any of them.”

            Armstead nodded. “The truthscry reported that there is a great hole in your memory. He believes that it was tampered with by magical means, and very skilled work it was.” Armstead looked down at the report briefly, then read from it aloud. “The level of skill necessary to affect Apprentice Scarborough’s memory to this degree would require a Colorlord, and there are few even at that level who could achieve it.”

            Tristan looked down at the floor. “I know,” the youth whispered. “The truthscries at Shile said the same thing.” Armstead nodded. “I’ve read their report as well, Apprentice Scarborough. Do you know why a Colorlord would wish to tamper with your memory?”

            Scarborough shook his head. “I cannot say, sir.” Armstead frowned. “So you do not recollect being informed that the most vulnerable places on a griffin are underneath the jaw and through the eye.” The Chief Steward tried not to smile at the snorting sound made by Morvern as Scarborough answered  “No, sir, I do not.”

            Armstead smiled, raising both hands in a calming gesture. “Tristan, please understand I’m not trying to interrogate you as I would a spy from Ur Bathog. I cannot even begin to imagine your frustration at having no memory of your life, to have skills you haven’t even begun to explore.” The boy hung his head, a miserable expression on his face. The older man continued, “Well, I believe that the best thing that the Guild can do is help you discover who you are. To a very real extent, most of us who have joined the Guild make that discovery at one time or another; you’re just a little bit more obvious about it is all.” Tristan managed a small grin at that.

            Just then Ayren returned to the office, a small box in hand which she brought over to her father. Giles began to beam like a proud father. Jordan Armstead resumed speaking in formal tones. “Tristan Scarborough, your actions show that you are well advanced of the skills needed to pass beyond the level of apprentice in the Hero’s Guild. You have shown great bravery and coolness in battle that a paladin would envy. In this Guild, advancement comes through what you do.” He paused and opened the box. From it, he took a chain with the Guild’s emblem �" a crescent moon crossed by a sword which pierced through a heart, representing the Three Skills �" in iron, hanging from the chain.

            Ayren removed the red sash that marked Tristan as an apprentice, and the Chief Steward solemnly placed the chain around Tristan’s neck. “It is with great pleasure that I welcome Tristan Scarborough to the Hero’s Guild as a full member in Novice standing, with all the rights, privileges and responsibilities thereof.” He shook the beaming novice’s hand. “Let me be the first to welcome you to a wonderful world, where you will prove yourself by your deeds, and perhaps in the process, find some of the answers to the questions you have.” Tristan noticed a look flicker over the Chief Steward’s face, but was unsure what it meant. Jordan Armstead turned to Morvern. “Journeyman Giles Morvern, I believe the Assignments Steward will have an important task for you. I suggest you see him immediately.” Giles nodded, bowed to the Steward, and clapped Tristan on the back as he left, congratulating the new novice with his usual growl.

            Armstead turned his attention back to Tristan. “Novice Scarborough, my assistant Ayren Armstead will take you to the Guildhall’s administrative offices to explain what the rights, privileges and responsibilities of a novice of the Guild are. I believe you have already acquired lodging in our dormitories?” The boy nodded. “Excellent. I would like you to dine with us tonight, Tristan. We have much to discuss. I’ll send a carriage to pick you up at the dormitories at seven bells.” He gave Ayren a glance, and she immediately stepped forward to take Tristan’s arm and lead him to the door. The Chief Steward sat down, giving Tristan one last smile, then turned to the scrolls on his desk. The grin turned to a grimace as he once again wrestled with the administrative duties of a Chief Steward that were the most excruciating part of the job. The interview was over.

 

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            Ayren led Tristan to a courtyard with a small fountain and many brightly colored flowers, some of which he could identify. She indicated a stone bench near the fountain and he sat down, looking a little confused. “I thought we were going to the administrative offices?” he asked, plainly unsure. Ayren laughed, a musical sound. “What father really meant was to take you to my office, but it’s too beautiful a day to waste in that dungeon. I hope you don’t mind that we came out here.”

            He smiled and visibly relaxed. “I don’t mind at all. It is quite pleasant out here. The Guildhall at Shile has a courtyard very similar to this one. I used to spend a lot of quiet hours there after training was done.”

 “So you did get some Guild training at Shile.”

 ‘Yes, but not a lot. The training masters would begin working on a weapon, or a spell and I would already know as much about it as they. I couldn’t consciously remember how I was doing it. I would just be put in a situation where I needed to use the skill, and it would be there.”

            She nodded. “Does that scare you? I know I would be going out of my mind if I were put in that situation.” He looked thoughtful at her question. “I don’t know if scared is the right word. I wonder sometimes just how many things I don’t even know about are locked inside me. I also wonder why those things are there. In a way, it’s comforting to know that I have skills that can save my life, but it’s terrifying to realize that I may rely on that too much and one there I may need a skill I don’t have and suffer when it’s not there.”

            She nodded again, sympathetically this time. “It does present quite the conundrum. I hope you get some resolution.” She straightened. “Now, it’s important that we discuss some of the things about the Guild that you may not know in terms of procedures and policies.” He grinned and nodded, grateful to be on a different subject. “Every Guildhall has, at its heart, the Assignments Office. This is where almost every Guild mission begins. You may apply for specific assignments, but the Assignments Steward makes the determination as to who goes on what mission, especially at the Novice and Journeyman levels. Higher levels, such as Rangers and Paladins, are assigned by the Chief Steward.

            “Your skills are generally matched to your assignments. For example, one skilled in stealth and thievery would not necessarily be assigned to a caravan protection assignment, whereas a brawny member skilled in swordplay would be. The pay for each mission depends on the length and potential danger of that assignment, as well as your own experience level. A portion of your pay is tithed to the Guild for the use of the facilities and for being matched with your assignment.

            “Certain types of missions will allow you the opportunity to obtain valuables and additional gold pieces. Whatever you recover is yours to keep, unless the item has a magical or historical value that is judged to outweigh your recovery claim. Generally, assignments with the potential of treasure recovery have a lower base pay, so there is an element of risk in accepting those kinds of missions beyond that of the obvious danger. Of course, you could get extremely fortunate and recover enough wealth to set yourself up for life as a member of the landed gentry, or even a minor noble.

            “Payment is made upon the successful conclusion of your assignment, and when the truthscry has concurred that the mission was fulfilled. As an apprentice, you will not be paid for the previous mission. However, you will receive bonus compensation for the slaying of the griffins. I’ll take you over to the paymaster later, but you will receive 20 gold pieces for each confirmed kill and five for the unconfirmed one. That will add up to 85 gold pieces, a nice bit of change for an apprentice.” Tristan had to grin at that. It was more money than he’d had in the three years he could remember.

            Ayren went on, “At the conclusion of any Guild-sanctioned assignment, as you already know, you will proceed to the truthscry and present any proof of monsters killed as well as any physical proof of assignment completion. Any artifacts of magic are to be turned in for registry, as are any valuables recovered. Guild members always registered what is recovered during their assignment, as this can affect their Guild standing positively �" after all, many sponsors look for experienced and successful treasure finders when assembling a team.  Any treasure not deemed dangerous or of historical value is returned to you once it is registered.”

            Ayren paused, looking at the boy intently. “Most mission sponsors are a practical lot for the most part, although there are some who might be considered….eccentric.” Tristan noticed how she struggled to find the right word. She went on, “Often, sponsors put together missions with specific personnel in mind. The key to success in the Guild is to establish a strong reputation for yourself. Then, you find that you are in demand and consequently you never lack for work. Some work is less lucrative or less exciting than others, but any Guild member who establishes regular work will never lack for money in his or her lifetime.”

            Tristan stretched, enjoying the warm sun on his face. “So what do I do in between assignments?” he asked Ayren, closing his eyes and smiling. She smirked at him, finding that she was liking him immensely. “That’s the hard part. Generally, you wait, checking back at the Assignments Office regularly. Some Guild members take on temporary jobs as bodyguards or town guards to make some extra money in between assignments. Most prefer to work on improving existing skills, or acquiring new ones. Here in Safehaven, we have an excellent combat school. The Acadamie Arcanum is also well-respected, if you choose to work on your magical skills. We also have instruction in the arts of thievery and tracking. Our wilderness skills instruction is second to none in the Realm. We also have academics who teach language, history, alchemy, mathematics, just about any field of knowledge known in the Realm.”

 “With 85 gold pieces, I can afford to train awhile.”

 “Absolutely. Guild members have the option of lodging here on the Guildhall grounds, as I understand you already have taken advantage of. The rates are far more reasonable that you will find elsewhere in town.”

 “So I need not fear keeping my gold pieces in my room?”

            She smiled. “Guild members rarely keep money on their persons. The Guild stores money and treasure for its members free of charge. Our vaults are extremely well-protected. During the Thieves War, a few adventurous thieves attempted to break into the vault here in Safehaven. I’m told their deaths were particularly gruesome, painful and drawn-out. Only the vaults of the Thieves Guild and the Emperor himself may be better protected than ours.”

            He nodded enthusiastically. “I believe I’ll take you up on that. I’d feel better with only a few coins to live on, while the rest is safe from the wrong hands.”

 “Excellent! When I take you to the paymaster, he’ll show you how to use the vault and assign you your own personal storage area.” She rose to her feet and stretched, and Tristan did the same. “Unfortunately, we cannot tarry longer in this pleasant garden. We have a full afternoon ahead of us. Come, I will take you on a tour of the facilities, then we shall take care of your paperwork and your pay.”

            The next several hours were spent touring the massive Guild campus, which included several outbuildings as well as the main hall. Ayren then took him past the Assignments Office, the training facilities, the library, the stable and the dining hall, where they shared a pleasant luncheon. The paymaster’s office came next, and the Vault where Tristan was allowed to deposit 80 gold pieces into his own box. The paymaster, a squirrelly little man with a thin, reedy voice, told him unctuously “The box may look small, but there is a spell upon it that will allow you to put any amount of treasure, no matter how great, inside it. You can access this box from any Guild vault. Just remember your spell and password.”

            Afterwards, she took the time to show him some quiet nooks, courtyards and hidden rooms. Some of these places were meant for quiet contemplation, but others had uses not easily apparent to him, and Ayren didn’t seem to know what they were used for either. At last, she brought him over to the dormitory wing. “Here we must part, for I have a few other duties to perform before sundown. My father has invited you to dinner tonight, so I will see you then. The carriage will be by to fetch you around seven bells.” She gestured at the doors to the dormitory. “The doors opposite to these open onto the streets. There is where the carriage will await you.”

            The young man bowed. “Thank you for all your help, Ayren. I have had a wonderful afternoon. I hope we can spend time together on some other occasion, soon.” Her eyes softened at that. “Thank you, Tristan. I have had a pleasant afternoon as well.” The young novice smiled, a sunny unrestrained expression that lit his entire face, and the rest of the Guildhall as well, it seemed to Ayren. She found herself not wanting to leave. She swallowed and said quickly “See you at dinner. Seven bells,” and then turned to leave, more quickly than she wanted to.