The city of Alexandria shone in the sunlight, the marble-white stones that made up the city walls and castle glistened as the hustle and bustle of the industry continued at a calm pace. This was the first day of many that the smallfolk were starting to move in a less stressed and worrying pace. The borders between Alexandria and their former neighbor, Garlandia, were under extreme lockdown since the Labrenthian Empire took the lands in a very brief and conflict. It seemed now more than ever the maps of the world were changing, and the Empire to the north was growing hungrier every day.
Still, there were complaints of no vacancies in the local inns and rest houses, and unrest among the countryside surrounding the castle-city. Armed patrols were sent out but with the fear of war always on the horizon, there was no time for anyone to simply send out a patrol to make sure the local pumpkin patch was now infected with goblins or funguar. Whispers rose of strange folk living deeper in the miasma, and the migration of large fiends further away from civilization.
But Alexandria was safe. The city had held out against foreign enemies for over a thousand years, and the Grand Cathedral, built in honor of the primal one Alexander, still stood proud and brave against its enemies. Whatever came, the people would always persist. And besides, if there were problems in a nearby farm or village, there was always one group that the smallfolk could always depend on: The Hunter's Guild.
The Guild was as old as any of the countries standing today, and they had always worked for the people; given that there was enough gil to pay for their services. Still, with the borders closed and strange business in the wilderness, there was always need for new recruits. The pay was good even if the dangers of the job were egregious. It was well known that the average survival rate for a member of the guild tended to last around six months. Those that were still around after several years, the veterans were well regarded and respected for their skill and survivability. But veterans were in short supply in Alexandria. And trouble was brewing.
"Yes, the resonance is perfect! Now, rotate the materials ninety degrees, and increase the beam by forty percent! Boy! I need you to lower the last piece of aldite into the canister!" This was it. Ten years of research, across three different countries and countless laboratories. But this was it! Cid 'dan Falreath took a swig from a glass container, wiping any spittle away with his knuckles. How long had he dreamed of being able to create a man-made crystal? One that harnessed all four elemental powers of aldite? One with nearly limitless potential and energy! The man shook in anticipation as the different colored minerals began to glow brightly.
"Boy! Hurry it up! The resonance of the energies won't last much longer!" A young man in his early 20s was above Cid on the catwalk. Being so close to the elemental energies was always a dangerous task, which is way any great scientist had countless apprentices to throw at dangerous problems like that. The unlucky and foolish tended to get maimed or worse, but the truly exceptional would one day become the next generation of researchers. After all, his own political foolishness had cost him his own hand back in his home of Labrenthia. But now he'd be able to laugh at those damn technocratic bastards when it was
he of a fallen house that found a way to bring the power of the crystals back. No damned fool religious prophecies, no experimentation on living subjects, and no worshiping long-dead fiends. No, it was through hard work and research and-
The young man was carefully lowering the last piece of aldite into the resonance chamber. The long tongs that held the mineral seemed to work, as he carefully placed the bright green stone inside the chamber. The lights inside began to glow impossibly bright. Pure chunks of fire, wind, water and earth aldite were all being forcibly crystalized into one another. The true power of Gaia herself in physical form; something that had not existed since the times of legend.
"Good job boy! Now, be prepared to pull the crystal from the chamber once it has stabilized!" This was it.
The lights flashed. Red. Blue. Green. Brown. The room shook. Several other assistants quailed in fear, stepping back from the observation booth. But Cid, he
knew that this was his moment.
"Uh, sir?" The boy's voice came from overhead.
"The chamber is cracking, I think, and we should probably abor-" "Nonsense! The experiment must continue! None of you have any idea how long it took to gather such pure samples of-" A beam of energy erupted from the chamber, breaking the glass of the observation chamber. Pieces of research equipment shattered, sending glass and all sorts of chemicals flying into the air. Many assistants and researchers screeched in fear, running from the hall, or banging at the locked door. Until the experiment ended, the doors would remain bolted shut.
"No! We HAVE to continue this until the crystal appears! Do NOT SHUT THIS DOWN!" Cid's eyes were wide, not with fear for his life or anyone else's, but with the fear that by shutting down the experiment he would lose
everything. Not again. Never again.
But the young man, still clinging to the catwalk, was filled with another kind of fear. The fear of a huge explosion of magical energy destroying half of the city. He'd only just become a research assistant in Alexandria, and the thought of everyone he worked with dying, and also the thought of losing his job, spurred him to action. He pulled from his workman's pants a large metal multi-tool, an invention of his own design. He could see four different connections supplying the chamber with aldite energy. The obvious solution was simple: turn off these pipes and the reaction would cease. Easy! He leaped from the catwalk onto the first connector piece, connecting the wrench to the connector, and pulling it close.
One finished. The chamber began to shake again, but this time, less rapidly. That was a good sign.
It was obvious what the young man was doing. Which of course, infuriated the old scientist.
"STOP! Stop it you damned fool! You're ruining my experiment!" His words fell on deaf ears, quite literally. The groaning of machinery and the loud hum of magical energy deafened any sound that the young man
could hear from Cid. And so he continued shutting off the valves. Numbers 2. Then numbers 3. The entire chamber began to shake violently. He was nearly at valve 4 when suddenly the metal chamber erupted and a huge cascade of magical energy slammed through the laboratory. People were knocked on their backs, Cid was buried under several tables, and the young man thankfully landed safely onto some heavy rubber pipes. Well, safely enough.
The room was dead silent for several minutes as every person inside questioned if they were dead or if they were alive. Cid broke the silence, his metal arm scraping against stone and metal to pull himself up. His face was flushed and deep crimson, a mask of rage that his experiment was a complete failure. And there was only one person to blame.
"What was your name again, boy?" The man growled, standing over the young engineer.
"Edgar, sir. Edgar Arronwy"
Holy City of Alexandria
Alexandria Hunters Guild Headquarters, Main Lobby. 21st Sun of Ondine
Three days. It had been three days since Edgar was thrown out of the research academy, still in his work gear. Three days watching his tiny amount of gil fade away as the inn bills came. Three days with no way out of the city. The week before had been stressful for many citizens, especially Edgar. On the 15th Sun of Ondine the borders were closed. Border disputes between Alexandria, Fabul, Bellas, and Labrenthia meant that there was to be no common trade or passage between the cities. It wasn't too horrible when Edgar had work. But after blowing up much of the lead researcher's lab (saving them, mind you!) it meant that his name bore a black mark and no one would hire him, even to dig ditches or carry boxes.
But there was one organization that was not beholden to any government, even if most of the jobs carried a great risk of mauling, being devoured, loss of limb or life or dehydration. The Hunter's Guild meant free travel between the cities, access to jobs across the land and the ability to make money from slaying fiends. Though statistically, most hunters ended up being the ones that were slain. Still, at this rate Edgar's choices were: beg on the streets and die cold and destitute, or risk life and limb to at least have a chance at life.
A chance was better than none. The guild's entry hall was extremely rustic, an extreme contrast to the white marble of the castle and walls of the holy city. The floors were adorned with various hides and pelts, and the heads of various fiends were mounted on the walls as trophies. There was a large, double-door leading to an interior room, reserved for members of the guild to rest or eat. The lobby was simply to post jobs, accept work or register with the guild. Edgar got to the paperwork, filling out his name, history, hometown, and other basic information. It was all quite simple. Several logs included where to send your belongings if you died and if you required a religious rite for your remains.
A standard Hunter's Contract. After submitting the form, the lobby girl pointed Edgar to a waiting room. Apparently he was not the only one today signing up for the guild. There had to be a trial to make sure they could handle the work, of course.
Of course.
Holy City of Alexandria
Alexandria Hunters Guild Headquarters, Meeting Room. 21st Sun of Ondine
Balder Gresscott eyed up the various people in the room. It was a motley looking group. He looked through the paperwork, sighing. Various countries, various occupations, all of them arriving on the same day. The usual trials were small deals, taking two or three recruits out into the field and slaying a wargs nest. Those that didn't piss their pants and run crying earned a seal.
But here were seven souls, and everyone seemed to have some skill in various fields. A fighter. A monk. A mage. You rarely saw guild parties set out with such varied classes as these. Anyone of them could most likely find honest work elsewhere, but these times were difficult. And with the borders closed, that meant that none of them could easily leave Alexandria.
There was some understanding there. But what worried him more about the strange crew was the job for the day. This wasn't two or three wargs threatening a farmer's livestock. He thumbed through the pages and sighed.
A miniboro nest. Miniboros were the nickname of smaller Malboros. Smaller and weaker than the much deadlier beast, it was common knowledge that dealing with such creatures was still no easy task. A single malboro was a difficult task for a veteran party. If a single one of these creatures were to be left alive to grow, the damage it would do to the surrounding area would be extensive. But miniboros were deadly and crafty, much dangerous than a group of wargs.
Could he trust them with a task like this?
