After a hearty lunch occupied with flip-flopping thoughts on what it meant to be a QuestWright, Cass left right away, intent on making the most of his free time.
The schedule Kara had given him didn’t allow for much variation in his forthcoming days. After physical conditioning, there was a short break for breakfast and a shower, then straight to classes. His first was going to be System Mechanics with Archivist Lyric Marell. In the margin notes, it said the class focused on system structure, overlay navigation, quests, permissions, and upgrades.
And that was just the first class of the day after breakfast. There were seven more to follow, with the option to sign up for tutoring after dinner.
Asking a stranger for directions, Cass was pointed to the Entrance hall, which, funnily enough, was also the exit. As he approached, several groups of people walked past him in colorful clumps, several giving him grinning nods. As he was nodding to one group of people who looked no older than himself, a thick, heavy-set man in Guild brown popped out of a small booth set into the wall.
“Hello QuestWright Cassio, where are you off to?” His voice sounded like heavy breathing, but the light, glinting expression in his eyes gave the impression that a few jokes here and there could get him on your side quickly in an argument.
His father’s voice came back to him, “Always appeal to a fat man’s stomach.”
Cass smiled at him, turning on his charm for all it was worth, “Why, my good man, I’m off to see downtown Liora! The sights, the sounds, the delicacies! I could bring you back a few if you’d like?”
The man appeared to think about it for a moment. Reaching out a hand, Cass took it as he said, “The name’s Jim Harbow, I’m in charge of who goes in and out of here.”
“Cassio Vale, QuestWright.”
He chuckled, “I know, Kara threw your description to everyone in the Guild this morning so we could keep an eye out for you. You’ve got a problem, Cassio.”
“Call me Cass, what’s the problem?”
“You can’t exit the Guild in the robes, Cass.” He pointed at his outfit, “Only on official duties, and as you’re newly Called, I have serious doubts that you have anything official to do yet.”
“Ah!” Cass said with a smile, though inside he was a little mad at himself. It did say that in the orientation packet. “I’ll be right back.”
Jim grinned at him, “Yeah, see you soon.”
The trip to his room and back didn’t take long. He’d changed into standard about-town clothing and some comfortable shoes before he was back at Jim’s booth again. This time, the man didn’t step out.
“Do you approve?”
Jim twisted a hand back and forth. “You could do better.”
Cass took a step back, a hand on his heart, “I’m shocked, Gatekeeper Jim. I thought this was the height of fashion.” He took two steps forward, the man in the booth staying seated. “I’ll bring you back a snack as promised. Thanks for the heads up on the robe.”
“You’re welcome,” Jim called to his back, “Make sure the snacks are the kind that make you question your life’s choices.”
“Will do,” Cass waved over his shoulder, then he was back downtown, and the quiet of the guild was behind him.
Man, is it loud out here.
It was one of those moments for Cass where the simple, calm atmosphere of where you’d just been was suddenly brought into clarity by comparison. Hundreds of people walked around the square, diving into smithies, carrying loads to the general stores, or just standing there like him, looking around.
It took a moment to remember why he was here. Trades. If I don’t know what they need, I won’t know how to do the delivery quests. Based on what he’d seen on the System Map, Cass knew that Smithies received deliveries all day long, so he headed that way.
Two larger buildings stood out. Both were close to the Guild’s Entrance Hall and had names splashed across the top in fancy lettering built from metal characters.
Martin Family Metalworks
The one next to it had small, artistic flowers set into every letter.
Liora Forgehall
The Premier Smithy in Liora
Not liking the feeling the latter invoked, Cass stepped inside the first.
As soon as the threshold was crossed, a wall of heat struck him. Blinking quickly drying eyes, he found the smithy to be a scene of absolute chaos. People rushed between areas, in what he was sure was an organized manner, if you knew what to look for. A few tools were discarded left and right, yells and curses abounded, and a half-finished suit of armor stood on a man-shaped platform near the entrance.
Stepping close to a young girl with a wiry frame, he asked, “This is a smithy?”
“Of course not,” She said with a flip of her hair, “This is the Martin Family Metalworks, the best in Liora.”
“That’s right,” A burly man said, stopping for a moment with a hot bar of cherry-red metal in his hands, “Don’t let those bastards next door tell you different. A name does not make it a truth.” He slammed the metal down on an anvil, then picked up a hammer from the ground and began to strike it.
Clang!
“So-”
Clang!
“Um-”
Clang! Clang!
“You have to talk over the noise.” She stood up straight and leaned across the thick table in front of her. “Name’s Mera, what can I do for you?”
“I’m Cass, a QuestWright.” Cass said loudly over the din, “And I’m trying to get a sense of what everyone needs. Any issues that might be popping up?”
“What don’t we need?” She gave a crooked smile, then blinked. “Wait, what the heck is a QuestWright?”
A bellowing sound from the back interrupted Cass’s explanation. “Did someone say QuestWright!” In a blink, a short, stocky man rushed up to the table.
He was built like a cement block, all rough lines set in a rectangular shape. Wearing shorts and sandals along with a soot-stained shirt, he reached a thick, meaty hand across the table. “Call me Martin, are you a QuestWright?”
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Cass reached out and felt his hand become engulfed, “Cass, and I am. I thought Martin was a last name.”
“It is. My name’s Martin Martin. So, what level are ya?”
“Dad!” Mera said, slapping his shoulder, “You can’t ask a person what level they are.”
“I kin if they have the ability to help me beat down that flowery bastard next door.”
“No you can’t!”
“Hello?” Cass said, hand-raised as if he were already in his classes. When they both turned, he grimaced and dropped the news. “I’ve just started. Level 1.”
“Ah, too bad.” Martin Martin gave his daughter a look, then glanced back at Cass, “When you can do a bit more, come and see me. We’ll set up a commissioning contract.”
“Thanks!” Cass called to his back, then looked at Mera again, “He’s a handful, isn’t he?”
Mera gave that crooked grin again, “You have no clue.”
Someone yelled out that they needed help at the bellows, and Mera called back that she’d be right there, but not before she looked at Cass again. “You’re kind of cute, Cass. Don’t be a stranger.”
Cass gave her a smile, “I won’t.”
After she left, he followed suit. He glanced into the smithy next door, but with the single, dismissive glance they gave his clothing, he thought better of it. He didn’t want to be anywhere where people didn’t want him. As simple as that.
This was a fact-finding mission. He needed to know what people needed and where, so he could figure out how to start designing his quests. Turning a corner and stepping out of the cul-de-sac that housed the Guildhall, he walked and enjoyed the freedom to explore the buildings he’d seen on the System map in real-time.
Tanneries are along this area.
Leatherworkers next door, that’s smart.
Hello, what is this?
Cass approached a large, open area where people of all different kinds of trades applied themselves. Near the front in prime real estate, he found a young man swinging a hammer against an anvil and a young woman molding damp leather along a curved frame. Each stood in what was clearly a demarcated work area, as several other young people worked different crafts down the line. It was less chaotic than the smithy, with every craftsman and woman plying their trade with concentrated expressions.
He watched the young man for a second, comparing what he was doing to what he’d seen at the Martin smithy when he seemed to notice.
Hammer raised pre-strike, he asked, “You good?”
“Yeah, just trying to get my bearings.” Cass looked around. “What do you call this place?”
“It’s the Commons,” The leatherworking woman said, “It’s where all the unaffiliated tradespeople go.”
“Tradesmen,” the man clarified, bringing his hammer down for emphasis.
“Don’t start that shit again.” She replied, pressing the leather harder into the curve with a glare, “Tradespeople is perfectly accurate.”
The man looked up, “See what you started?”
“I just got here?” Cass protested, “Look, I don’t want this to be awkward. Can I ask your names?”
“Holt.” The young man said, as the woman responded in kind, “Rina.”
“Well, Holt and Rina, I’m a QuestWright, and I was just wondering what you both needed?”
“What’s a QuestWright?” Holt asked as he slammed his hammer down, “Is that like a Company thing? I don’t want to join a Company.”
“Dummy, it’s not a Company thing.” Rina replied, “I bet it has to do with one of the Consortiums. Are you from the Mercantile group?”
“No,” Cass shook his head, “I’m from the Guild. Tell me this, do you guys ever get any quests?’
“Just the ones from the System.” Holt replied, “A hundred hammerstrokes per day or I lose experience. Same as every other junior smith.”
“Mine’s like that, too.” Rina confirmed, “But unlike Smith’s, I have to worry about moisture content. His Iron’s already purified for him.” When Holt looked at her with a grimace, she gave him googly eyes with a puckered mouth.
“Weirdo.”
“No, you.” She replied before returning to her leather.
Cass let them work while his thoughts began to churn. So they only have standard, everyday System quests tied to their Callings. They probably don’t even know about quests or what their value brings. He looked around, finding dozens of people silently working on the Commons. All of these people are unaffiliated. I bet they could all use a quest or two to help them push up their levels.
Course set, he asked Rina a question, who seemed more sociable, “Hey, do you know everyone in the Commons?”
She paused her work with a look of annoyance. “Most of them, why?”
“Can you gather a list of their names, Callings, and what they need to improve themselves?”
“Why?” She reiterated, fully stepping away from her work, “What do you need that for?”
Cass noted that Holt had stopped his work to listen in, “I’m a part of the Liora Guildhall, but I’m low-level. I figure, since you’re all working here and not in one of the shops, you could use a leg-up. I thought we could help each other with a few mutually-beneficial deals.”
“Alright, hold up,” Holt said, stepping over. He was much more imposing up close, as his muscles seemed to strain against the apron he was wearing. “Who are you? Really?”
“I’m a QuestWright?”
“And that is…” Rina asked, continuing on Holt's line.
“I create quests?” Cass said, stepping back as they both immediately grew closer. Rina leaned forward, whispering so the others couldn’t hear.
“Can you get us extra experience?”
“Yesss?” Cass said, drawing it out while matching her level of volume.
Holt took another step closer, until all of them were only inches away from each other, “You’re saying that you can create personal quests? Real ones? Not just the stuff the System hands out.”
“That’s the idea, yep,” Cass said, trying to step back before finding a wall behind him. I’m trapped. “Right now, I’m just trying to figure out what people need and how I can help.”
Both of them backed off as Rina gave a sharp laugh, “Ah, you’re not assigning anything yet.”
“I’m only Level 1.” Seeing them both start to go back to their stations, he made a leap of faith, “But I’ll get better. Look,” he paused, “I didn’t know this Calling existed until I got it yesterday. But now, as I look around and start to get a sense of things,” And that warning from earlier. “I see that I can do a lot to help.”
“We don’t need charity,” Holt replied, already swinging his hammer again, “If I said no to the Companies and the Consortium, I can say no to you too.”
“When you’re right, you’re right,” Rina said, face straining as she pushed against the leather.
I should’ve expected the pushback. Nobody likes a Level One. “That’s fair, and I don’t blame you. I’m not here to recruit or hand out favors. Let me explain something.” Both stopped in their work, eyes still averted, but at least they were listening.
With these guys, honesty will get me further than candy; better go for broke.
“Look, I’m eighteen years old. Three times, I walked the Uncalled Way without even knowing it was named that. And three times, I walked away disappointed. Then, I got this Calling; QuestWright."
He paused to collect his thoughts, then started again. “QuestWright can do some real good in the world. It’s different than anything I’d wanted, but now that I have it, I can see its real value.” Holt and Rina were both looking at him now. “It’s not charity.” He laughed, “I don’t have enough money to my name even to try to help that way, and I’m about to spend my last bit of money on a treat to make a gatekeeper like me. But if I can find the right way to match people with what they need, whether it's materials, tasks, or actions, then I’ll level up. And as I level up, so too do the people I’m helping. It’s not charity, and I’m not the Consortium. I’m just a guy trying to find his place in the world and help out a few people while I do it.”
Holt looked at Rina, who looked back at him. With a grunt, the man went back to hammering as Rina gave Cass a wink, “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you.” Cass replied with an immediate sense of relief, “I’ll try to get back here in a little over a week.”
“You do that.” She was already back at her leather.
Stepping back quietly, Cass left the Commons on a return trip to his quarters. Now that he had a plan of action for the future, he refused to neglect the past. With his free day tomorrow, it was time for him to go home for a moment and see what his friends and family think of his Calling.
Turning the corner on the route back, he headed to the general store. He needed a sweet treat to keep Jim on his side.
