@Burger :'D This still open to join at all? It looks fun!
Buzzkill Member
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Hi, I'd love to join if you'd have me! @Leah
Not sure on character yet! Possibly an earthbender.
Not sure on character yet! Possibly an earthbender.
Morning had broken, and Matteo’s glasses remained, sadly, in the same condition they’d been in the night before. The fact that they had not been healed as magically as his bloodied face was just one more shadow hanging over him as the occupants of the pews rose early and dished their bowls full of watery breakfast broth. Could have used some coffee, the ex-spectacled young man thought blearily as he found his way back to the others and took his first sip of the hot liquid. It did little to soothe his aching belly, and less to liven his beleaguered mind.
They’d only just traded “good mornings” and he’d been trying to remember all the information he’d gathered from Etono (before he’d been beat up by Old Bear like a nerdy kid in high school-- his lunch money was at least thankfully intact) when a small, dark-haired girl approached them and introduced herself. To Matteo’s surprise, a (slightly) familiar blonde blur was behind her. So she ended up here too-- that’s good, I didn’t see her come in last night. He didn’t think he’d gotten her name outside the recruitment office. In any case, this Muu must be in the same boat as the rest of us-- maybe even newer. Etono had said new arrivals only came at night, however.
He rubbed the back of his neck, aware of how stiff his muscles were after last night. “Once we’re done eating, should we stop by the Silver Moon office and get your tags and starting loan? The man-- I was told his name is Mathers-- might be in a better mood,” Matteo inquired mildly once the clatter of his spoon on the sides of the bowl had ceased. The youth nodded at Muu. “We don’t know much more than you, I’m afraid, but I did get a little useful information last night before… well. I can explain some of it on the way. Ash, Aoi, do you know how to get back to the plaza from last night?” Being unconscious at the time (and assuming the two girls had physically dragged him to the church) he hoped it wouldn’t be too far away.
They’d only just traded “good mornings” and he’d been trying to remember all the information he’d gathered from Etono (before he’d been beat up by Old Bear like a nerdy kid in high school-- his lunch money was at least thankfully intact) when a small, dark-haired girl approached them and introduced herself. To Matteo’s surprise, a (slightly) familiar blonde blur was behind her. So she ended up here too-- that’s good, I didn’t see her come in last night. He didn’t think he’d gotten her name outside the recruitment office. In any case, this Muu must be in the same boat as the rest of us-- maybe even newer. Etono had said new arrivals only came at night, however.
He rubbed the back of his neck, aware of how stiff his muscles were after last night. “Once we’re done eating, should we stop by the Silver Moon office and get your tags and starting loan? The man-- I was told his name is Mathers-- might be in a better mood,” Matteo inquired mildly once the clatter of his spoon on the sides of the bowl had ceased. The youth nodded at Muu. “We don’t know much more than you, I’m afraid, but I did get a little useful information last night before… well. I can explain some of it on the way. Ash, Aoi, do you know how to get back to the plaza from last night?” Being unconscious at the time (and assuming the two girls had physically dragged him to the church) he hoped it wouldn’t be too far away.
He couldn’t quite repress his sigh of relief when the priest said they didn’t have to pay to spend the night at the HUGE church. He had little concept of the currency here, but if the charity he’d seen Etono giving to panhandlers was any indication, the silver coins he’d gotten from ‘Mathers’ were more than this type of lodging was worth. He would have doubted the people seeking refuge here would have been able to pay more than what he’d seen Etono giving out. “We understand,” Matteo said aloud, making a mental note to return with a more appropriate donation once he had a better idea of what he was dealing with.
The mention of soup provoked another sigh from the small man, this one more longing. “Ah-- really? I might just do that, thank you.” So this place fed the poor as well as housed them. As someone utterly lost in these new surroundings he’d found himself in without memories to speak of, Matteo felt a mild glow of admiration and gratitude for this place. Would he have felt the same if he wasn’t down on his luck? Probably not, but it didn't matter. He pulled himself to his feet and shakily made his way over to the soup cauldron, following his nose.
As he waited patiently to be dished up with thin broth, he wondered how serious the priest's offer to join this place had been. All offers at this stage merited consideration, didn’t they? He wondered just how much of an exaggeration the promised ‘bloodshed’ and ‘suffering’ had been-- to a person who lived this kind of life, healing victims and tending to the weak, surely it must seem that way. His pondering and wandering thoughts made him realize that he was very, very tired.
”If we have to be up at ‘first light’ we’d better get some rest,” he said to Ash and Aoi, settling back into the hard wooden pew with his soup. “Thanks again for getting me here. We’ll…” he trailed off. We’ll what? Talk about what happened? Try to get more information out of the Silver Moon recruiter? Find out where the blonde girl who’d been with them in the office had gone, or where the best place to hide from Old Bear might be in this city? “...we’ll do something in the morning.”
The mention of soup provoked another sigh from the small man, this one more longing. “Ah-- really? I might just do that, thank you.” So this place fed the poor as well as housed them. As someone utterly lost in these new surroundings he’d found himself in without memories to speak of, Matteo felt a mild glow of admiration and gratitude for this place. Would he have felt the same if he wasn’t down on his luck? Probably not, but it didn't matter. He pulled himself to his feet and shakily made his way over to the soup cauldron, following his nose.
As he waited patiently to be dished up with thin broth, he wondered how serious the priest's offer to join this place had been. All offers at this stage merited consideration, didn’t they? He wondered just how much of an exaggeration the promised ‘bloodshed’ and ‘suffering’ had been-- to a person who lived this kind of life, healing victims and tending to the weak, surely it must seem that way. His pondering and wandering thoughts made him realize that he was very, very tired.
”If we have to be up at ‘first light’ we’d better get some rest,” he said to Ash and Aoi, settling back into the hard wooden pew with his soup. “Thanks again for getting me here. We’ll…” he trailed off. We’ll what? Talk about what happened? Try to get more information out of the Silver Moon recruiter? Find out where the blonde girl who’d been with them in the office had gone, or where the best place to hide from Old Bear might be in this city? “...we’ll do something in the morning.”
So only an hour had passed since the tattooed man's fist had knocked him out cold. “Interesting,” Matteo muttered. His fingers explored the smooth, unbroken canvas of his newly-healed face again. The fight had been so intense, and sudden. It would almost be easy to forget it had happened at all. A nightmare of blows and falls and a merciless, unyielding mob of onlookers in the plaza square, ringing them in a mob of ugly noise. He had never in his life expected to be put in that kind of situation.
He thought he hadn’t, anyway.
The dark-haired young man sat up slowly and the faces around him came more into focus. “Aoi, that’s you, isn’t it? I assume you’re all right.” Once the crowd had sealed him and Old Bear in, she should have had the chance to get away. The people had no interest in what had caused their conflict, only its resolution. Matteo sighed and lifted a finger to adjust his glasses and poked himself between the eyes instead. “I’m not sure,” he admitted in response to Ash’s question. Well, in the short-term...
His gaze shifted to his surroundings-- he was not the only person stretched out on a hard wooden pew. There were many others here, swaddled in ragged clothing still more practical than what the three newcomers wore. Matteo cleared his throat, turning towards the priest. “Sir, I don’t suppose we could rest here for the night.” Uncomfortable as the benches were, this place-- this church-- felt safe. Going out into the night again, searching for somewhere to stay in this foreign place, sounded exhausting. And Matteo was exhausted already. His hour spent unconscious didn’t exactly count as a nap.
He thought he hadn’t, anyway.
The dark-haired young man sat up slowly and the faces around him came more into focus. “Aoi, that’s you, isn’t it? I assume you’re all right.” Once the crowd had sealed him and Old Bear in, she should have had the chance to get away. The people had no interest in what had caused their conflict, only its resolution. Matteo sighed and lifted a finger to adjust his glasses and poked himself between the eyes instead. “I’m not sure,” he admitted in response to Ash’s question. Well, in the short-term...
His gaze shifted to his surroundings-- he was not the only person stretched out on a hard wooden pew. There were many others here, swaddled in ragged clothing still more practical than what the three newcomers wore. Matteo cleared his throat, turning towards the priest. “Sir, I don’t suppose we could rest here for the night.” Uncomfortable as the benches were, this place-- this church-- felt safe. Going out into the night again, searching for somewhere to stay in this foreign place, sounded exhausting. And Matteo was exhausted already. His hour spent unconscious didn’t exactly count as a nap.
For the second time that evening, Matteo awoke in a strange place surrounded by strange people. This time, however, at least two of the faces were vaguely familiar. He thought they were, anyway. It was a bit difficult to say for sure when everyone except the solemn priest bending over him was an out-of-focus blur. He raised a hand to grope down the pew as if feeling for his glasses, then let it fall again, empty.
It was all rushing back to him. Old Bear, the fight, the fist. The question "Did I lose?" wasn’t even on the table-- he’d never even been a player.
He made a hoarse sound that became a sigh. “Thank you,” he uttered first to his unknown benefactor and the two girls who’d clearly gotten him help in some form or another. The curly-haired youth remained laying on his back, staying very still. After a moment, his hands came up to touch his face.
No cuts, no stinging, no pain. His hesitant fingers became rigid with surprise as he touched smooth skin. “I didn’t imagine that, did I?” he asked skeptically, testing his now-unbroken nose. “How long was I…” The last thing he remembered was the guards arriving to break up the crowd. Matteo winced. If they had just come a little sooner, I could have gotten out of there on my own...
It was all rushing back to him. Old Bear, the fight, the fist. The question "Did I lose?" wasn’t even on the table-- he’d never even been a player.
He made a hoarse sound that became a sigh. “Thank you,” he uttered first to his unknown benefactor and the two girls who’d clearly gotten him help in some form or another. The curly-haired youth remained laying on his back, staying very still. After a moment, his hands came up to touch his face.
No cuts, no stinging, no pain. His hesitant fingers became rigid with surprise as he touched smooth skin. “I didn’t imagine that, did I?” he asked skeptically, testing his now-unbroken nose. “How long was I…” The last thing he remembered was the guards arriving to break up the crowd. Matteo winced. If they had just come a little sooner, I could have gotten out of there on my own...
Matteo straightened up, adjusting his glasses and taking the hand offered to him. He clasped it firmly, looking up into the face of the first friendly person he’d met since-- well, as far as he knew, since ever. “Right, I suppose so,” he said, a little taken aback by Etono’s candor. How many people introduced themselves as a criminal first, soldier second? He offered his “senior” a wry smile, looking interested. “A thief, really? Should you be telling me that?”
“Hm? Well, guess we’re not in as high demand as those preach-y types,” Etono chuckled, “But we balance the scales, and most of us keep our heads down in town. Save the thievery for the enemy, yah know?”
Curious. Curious and curiouser (where had he heard that? It didn’t matter.) What he was hearing was that thieves were a soldier position, and apparently not an uncommon one. Still, new mysteries were constantly presented. “Ah, I see. I take it that these robes you’re wearing aren’t the usual thief attire, then?”
There was another small smile on Matteo’s face as he gestured at the others, dour-faced and clothed in sky blue. Could they be the “preach-y types” Etono had mentioned?
There was a flash of confusion, before Etono let out a low whistle. “Wow,” the handsome man remarked, “Musta really pissed off Mathers, huh? Didn’t think he’d withhold that much info.”
Pulling down down the collar slightly, the self-professed thief revealed the clothing he wore underneath: a motley collection of cloth and leather that varied from dark brown to beige. “That look more like standard thieving wear for you? Us properly registered thieves all wear the blue as a signal that we have no intention of stealing from our own, you see?” He gave a little twirl, indicating just how form-fitting the garments were. “Gotta toss some of our ill-gotten gains away to the less advantaged, lest the Imperial Edict, Ier-Briar The Mountainclad, judges us to be greedy and decides to take the toll via karmic justice instead. ‘S why all those others are being sour.”
A shrug, another smile, as Etono raised his arm up slightly. “So ye, could say these are our casual clothes, Matt. Though basically everyone wears their normal gear underneath.”
A little stunned by how far he’d been off the mark, Matteo nodded along, eyebrows raising as he finally understood. He let out his breath in a sigh. “That makes sense now.” He might not know much, but he’d assumed someone like a thief wouldn’t have a uniform that marked them so… obviously. Now he could see that was the point. There’s something ironic about a registered thief.
“We did arrive at a… untimely hour,” The curly-haired young man admitted, scratching his head. He assumed Mathers was the recruiter. “Though we thought that might just be his personality.” Apparently not. “Do you have time for a few more questions? I could…” Matteo trailed off, gesturing vaguely towards the inebriated crowd, “Buy… you a drink?”
“Eh, the hour’s pretty normal, as far as I’m aware,” Etono replied, “And naw, no need to get me a drink or anything. I’ll just cash in this favor once you’ve become a more established adventurer.”
With that, the ponytailed man leaned against the wall, looking a little more the part of a seedy criminal, as he snapped his fingers. ”Go shoot. Let’s see whatcha got on your mind.”
“How did you become a thief?” Matteo asked, holding up his hands and adding quickly “Ah, I mean-- you said you were registered. Who do you register with? Mathers?” What little information he’d already gathered covered the basics of what they were supposed to do (kill monsters, apparently) just not how they were supposed to do it. How did stealing work against “the enemy,” exactly?
“Straight to the climax, eh?” the man laughed. “We get registered in a guild separate from the Silver Moon. Usually, you’d need a guarantor and a hefty fee to get in, but joining up with the Silver Moon provides both. So yeah, pretty cut-and-dry. Join thieves guild, do thieves stuff, obey the rules and get training.”
Training. What a fancy word for work. Matteo considered the unlucky soldiers who didn’t have the good fortune of being Silver Moon recruits and wasn’t sure what to make of them. Was it really such a prime opportunity, or were they just the only ones who didn’t know any better? Then again, if there weren’t any long-term benefits to the work, these “guilds” wouldn’t be able to charge so much. Hmm.
“Pretty cut and dry,” he echoed Etono, nodding, “Was it a long training period? I assume there’s other guilds besides your own, too.” Merchants, clergy? He had no idea.
“Basics are a week long. After that, you’re more or less out of money and have to start pulling your own weight.” A slightly more nostalgic smile crept over the thief’s features. “Mm, those were fun times. And yup, more guilds than you can count on two hands, but not all of them are open.”
Matteo’s empty hand slapped against his hip and he glanced at it, vaguely realizing he’d been reaching for-- something. A piece of paper to write some of this down on, maybe. His brow furrowed for a moment and there was a pause for a second too long before he looked up again, expression easing again. “Makes sense. Do you know which ones are open, or which I should look into?” Even if Matteo himself wasn’t interested, maybe one of the girls he’d been recruited with would be.
“There we go! That’s the question you shoulda asked,” Etono said, before his eyes flickered to the sky, musing over past details, “If we’re talking about stuff that’d make you popular, priesthood is always a good bet, ‘specially if your group already has some burly manly men. Outside of that, warriors and fiend knights are always open, rangers will take you if you can handle the blood, I can get you in with an extra recommendation if you wanna go thieving, and if you’re feeling lucky, mage academy’s good for bookish types.”
A shrug. “Those are the six ones that are always open, as far as I know, yea.”
… He could see why he would have wanted to write that information down, but Matteo liked to think he had a good enough memory (recent events notwithstanding) to repeat it back without notes. It was good to know which guilds had openings, even if he and the others might not know which ones they wanted to pursue.
“I’m not sure if I’m a bookish type or not,” Matteo said out loud and then paused. “That is to say I’m literally not sure. I think so. Possibly.” Was it just because he had glasses? He pushed them up the bridge of his nose thoughtfully and sighed. One more thing had been bothering him. “Earlier, you said you thought around now was the normal time to arrive, right? Do people like us show up here… often?” If the ponytailed thief was a Silver Moon soldier as well, that meant he’d started with the same circumstances as Matteo and the others… right?
“I mean, I came at night.” Etono pointed out. “So did basically everyone else I know?”
“Huh.”
After a moment to let that information process, Matteo gave a little start and an apologetic smile, clearing his throat. “Well, Etono, I’ve taken up enough of your time. Thanks for being so patient. I’d better go find the… others…” He was casting his gaze around for Ash and Aoi, who he’d almost immediately lost upon entering the plaza. “In any case, I appreciate it. I certainly owe you that favor once I get myself situated here.” He offered his hand to shake again, grateful for the other man’s assistance.
”Always a pleasure to be currying favor with the new kids,” Etono replied, taking Matteo’s hand in his own. ”If you got any other pressing questions in the future, just ask for me at Roselia’s. Someone’s probably gonna know where I’m at.”
“Sure thing. Thanks again,” Matteo said easily. He turned away from the blue-robed thief and made his way back through the festive square, Talking with Etono had left him with a much different perspective of Silver Moon and Andeave itself. A close-knit group of people connected by their mutual goals and mysterious lack of past, distributed across elite guilds. The thief had seemed happy. He wondered what that meant.
The short man still wasn’t sure if Ash had heard him or not when he’d suggested they meet back in front of the recruitment office, but he hoped at least the others had. They didn’t have to be friends, but their naivety in this city put them all at the same disadvantage. He returned along the same path they’d come on, dismissing the idea of food or drink until they'd reconvened.
“Hm? Well, guess we’re not in as high demand as those preach-y types,” Etono chuckled, “But we balance the scales, and most of us keep our heads down in town. Save the thievery for the enemy, yah know?”
Curious. Curious and curiouser (where had he heard that? It didn’t matter.) What he was hearing was that thieves were a soldier position, and apparently not an uncommon one. Still, new mysteries were constantly presented. “Ah, I see. I take it that these robes you’re wearing aren’t the usual thief attire, then?”
There was another small smile on Matteo’s face as he gestured at the others, dour-faced and clothed in sky blue. Could they be the “preach-y types” Etono had mentioned?
There was a flash of confusion, before Etono let out a low whistle. “Wow,” the handsome man remarked, “Musta really pissed off Mathers, huh? Didn’t think he’d withhold that much info.”
Pulling down down the collar slightly, the self-professed thief revealed the clothing he wore underneath: a motley collection of cloth and leather that varied from dark brown to beige. “That look more like standard thieving wear for you? Us properly registered thieves all wear the blue as a signal that we have no intention of stealing from our own, you see?” He gave a little twirl, indicating just how form-fitting the garments were. “Gotta toss some of our ill-gotten gains away to the less advantaged, lest the Imperial Edict, Ier-Briar The Mountainclad, judges us to be greedy and decides to take the toll via karmic justice instead. ‘S why all those others are being sour.”
A shrug, another smile, as Etono raised his arm up slightly. “So ye, could say these are our casual clothes, Matt. Though basically everyone wears their normal gear underneath.”
A little stunned by how far he’d been off the mark, Matteo nodded along, eyebrows raising as he finally understood. He let out his breath in a sigh. “That makes sense now.” He might not know much, but he’d assumed someone like a thief wouldn’t have a uniform that marked them so… obviously. Now he could see that was the point. There’s something ironic about a registered thief.
“We did arrive at a… untimely hour,” The curly-haired young man admitted, scratching his head. He assumed Mathers was the recruiter. “Though we thought that might just be his personality.” Apparently not. “Do you have time for a few more questions? I could…” Matteo trailed off, gesturing vaguely towards the inebriated crowd, “Buy… you a drink?”
“Eh, the hour’s pretty normal, as far as I’m aware,” Etono replied, “And naw, no need to get me a drink or anything. I’ll just cash in this favor once you’ve become a more established adventurer.”
With that, the ponytailed man leaned against the wall, looking a little more the part of a seedy criminal, as he snapped his fingers. ”Go shoot. Let’s see whatcha got on your mind.”
“How did you become a thief?” Matteo asked, holding up his hands and adding quickly “Ah, I mean-- you said you were registered. Who do you register with? Mathers?” What little information he’d already gathered covered the basics of what they were supposed to do (kill monsters, apparently) just not how they were supposed to do it. How did stealing work against “the enemy,” exactly?
“Straight to the climax, eh?” the man laughed. “We get registered in a guild separate from the Silver Moon. Usually, you’d need a guarantor and a hefty fee to get in, but joining up with the Silver Moon provides both. So yeah, pretty cut-and-dry. Join thieves guild, do thieves stuff, obey the rules and get training.”
Training. What a fancy word for work. Matteo considered the unlucky soldiers who didn’t have the good fortune of being Silver Moon recruits and wasn’t sure what to make of them. Was it really such a prime opportunity, or were they just the only ones who didn’t know any better? Then again, if there weren’t any long-term benefits to the work, these “guilds” wouldn’t be able to charge so much. Hmm.
“Pretty cut and dry,” he echoed Etono, nodding, “Was it a long training period? I assume there’s other guilds besides your own, too.” Merchants, clergy? He had no idea.
“Basics are a week long. After that, you’re more or less out of money and have to start pulling your own weight.” A slightly more nostalgic smile crept over the thief’s features. “Mm, those were fun times. And yup, more guilds than you can count on two hands, but not all of them are open.”
Matteo’s empty hand slapped against his hip and he glanced at it, vaguely realizing he’d been reaching for-- something. A piece of paper to write some of this down on, maybe. His brow furrowed for a moment and there was a pause for a second too long before he looked up again, expression easing again. “Makes sense. Do you know which ones are open, or which I should look into?” Even if Matteo himself wasn’t interested, maybe one of the girls he’d been recruited with would be.
“There we go! That’s the question you shoulda asked,” Etono said, before his eyes flickered to the sky, musing over past details, “If we’re talking about stuff that’d make you popular, priesthood is always a good bet, ‘specially if your group already has some burly manly men. Outside of that, warriors and fiend knights are always open, rangers will take you if you can handle the blood, I can get you in with an extra recommendation if you wanna go thieving, and if you’re feeling lucky, mage academy’s good for bookish types.”
A shrug. “Those are the six ones that are always open, as far as I know, yea.”
… He could see why he would have wanted to write that information down, but Matteo liked to think he had a good enough memory (recent events notwithstanding) to repeat it back without notes. It was good to know which guilds had openings, even if he and the others might not know which ones they wanted to pursue.
“I’m not sure if I’m a bookish type or not,” Matteo said out loud and then paused. “That is to say I’m literally not sure. I think so. Possibly.” Was it just because he had glasses? He pushed them up the bridge of his nose thoughtfully and sighed. One more thing had been bothering him. “Earlier, you said you thought around now was the normal time to arrive, right? Do people like us show up here… often?” If the ponytailed thief was a Silver Moon soldier as well, that meant he’d started with the same circumstances as Matteo and the others… right?
“I mean, I came at night.” Etono pointed out. “So did basically everyone else I know?”
“Huh.”
After a moment to let that information process, Matteo gave a little start and an apologetic smile, clearing his throat. “Well, Etono, I’ve taken up enough of your time. Thanks for being so patient. I’d better go find the… others…” He was casting his gaze around for Ash and Aoi, who he’d almost immediately lost upon entering the plaza. “In any case, I appreciate it. I certainly owe you that favor once I get myself situated here.” He offered his hand to shake again, grateful for the other man’s assistance.
”Always a pleasure to be currying favor with the new kids,” Etono replied, taking Matteo’s hand in his own. ”If you got any other pressing questions in the future, just ask for me at Roselia’s. Someone’s probably gonna know where I’m at.”
“Sure thing. Thanks again,” Matteo said easily. He turned away from the blue-robed thief and made his way back through the festive square, Talking with Etono had left him with a much different perspective of Silver Moon and Andeave itself. A close-knit group of people connected by their mutual goals and mysterious lack of past, distributed across elite guilds. The thief had seemed happy. He wondered what that meant.
The short man still wasn’t sure if Ash had heard him or not when he’d suggested they meet back in front of the recruitment office, but he hoped at least the others had. They didn’t have to be friends, but their naivety in this city put them all at the same disadvantage. He returned along the same path they’d come on, dismissing the idea of food or drink until they'd reconvened.
Reality differed from Matteo’s expectations. He expected the scholar to eventually explain the odd circumstances the four had woken up in. He expected more information on the recruitment office and the roles they were expected to take on. He expected reason. He expected courtesy. But most of all, Matteo thought, he expected assurance.
And they didn’t get it.
If they were part of this group’s plot, they made no effort to alleviate those suspicions. If the situation-- fighting monsters and demons-- seemed fantastical and dangerous, no words were said to lesson those concerns. No one was trying to make the situation seem better than it was, and Matteo had mixed feelings about that. Instead of sympathy, they received facts, reality, and coin. An investment, they called it later as they gathered at the entrance to the recruitment office, the doors almost closing on Matteo’s heels as he exited.
The tattered bags of coins were comforting. If this business was handing them money, it must be expecting them to make it back. If they were truly cannon fodder (he struggled to make sense of the strong feelings that word evoked, but couldn’t quite grasp it) there was no sense in wasting money on them. Matteo had pulled his necklace over his curls almost as soon as he’d received it. Even if he didn’t understand it, the symbol might mean enough to someone else to get them some more information, or to keep them out of danger.
“Ah-- Ash, just a moment,” Matteo called. He had a brief vision of exhausting himself wandering all around Andeave in search of his fellow amnesiacs again and cringed internally at the thought. “If we get split up, shall we meet back here?” he suggested mildly as an alternative, casting a glance behind him as he hurried west after Ash. It seemed like the best idea-- there had been little that was threatening about the festive plaza when they’d first passed through it.
As the music grew loud again, the spectacled young man stood and took in the busy square, debating who would be the most effective to approach first. The people in the sky-blue robes caught his curiosity-- they stood out from the drunken revelry. Rather than Matteo trying to figure out what had happened to him (an opportunity they’d already wasted at the recruitment office, he felt) perhaps it would be better to learn about this place and its people. Besides, anyone giving to charity probably wasn’t a threat to someone else down on their luck.
He waited for one of them to finish what they were doing and cleared his throat. “Excuse me,” he said politely, clearing his throat. “Yes, hello. Ah-- my name is Matteo. I just got here and was wondering what you and the others in those robes… do. Excuse my ignorance,” he added. “...Or who are you, rather?”
And they didn’t get it.
If they were part of this group’s plot, they made no effort to alleviate those suspicions. If the situation-- fighting monsters and demons-- seemed fantastical and dangerous, no words were said to lesson those concerns. No one was trying to make the situation seem better than it was, and Matteo had mixed feelings about that. Instead of sympathy, they received facts, reality, and coin. An investment, they called it later as they gathered at the entrance to the recruitment office, the doors almost closing on Matteo’s heels as he exited.
The tattered bags of coins were comforting. If this business was handing them money, it must be expecting them to make it back. If they were truly cannon fodder (he struggled to make sense of the strong feelings that word evoked, but couldn’t quite grasp it) there was no sense in wasting money on them. Matteo had pulled his necklace over his curls almost as soon as he’d received it. Even if he didn’t understand it, the symbol might mean enough to someone else to get them some more information, or to keep them out of danger.
“Ah-- Ash, just a moment,” Matteo called. He had a brief vision of exhausting himself wandering all around Andeave in search of his fellow amnesiacs again and cringed internally at the thought. “If we get split up, shall we meet back here?” he suggested mildly as an alternative, casting a glance behind him as he hurried west after Ash. It seemed like the best idea-- there had been little that was threatening about the festive plaza when they’d first passed through it.
As the music grew loud again, the spectacled young man stood and took in the busy square, debating who would be the most effective to approach first. The people in the sky-blue robes caught his curiosity-- they stood out from the drunken revelry. Rather than Matteo trying to figure out what had happened to him (an opportunity they’d already wasted at the recruitment office, he felt) perhaps it would be better to learn about this place and its people. Besides, anyone giving to charity probably wasn’t a threat to someone else down on their luck.
He waited for one of them to finish what they were doing and cleared his throat. “Excuse me,” he said politely, clearing his throat. “Yes, hello. Ah-- my name is Matteo. I just got here and was wondering what you and the others in those robes… do. Excuse my ignorance,” he added. “...Or who are you, rather?”
Given more time to take in his surroundings, Matteo tore his eyes away from the mysterious beverage and let his gaze wander around the smoky parlor, trying to distract himself from the sudden dryness in his mouth. The smell of tobacco, bold as red wine, filled his lungs with each breath. The shoulders of his fellow recruits (they might not know for what yet, but Matteo had a feeling they didn’t have much of a choice based on how they’d been ushered inside) bumped against him as the group reacted to the new information in a ripple of uncertainty.
If you believe the world is flat? It seemed like odd humor for the situation, but the dark-haired young man dismissed it in the face of a greater disappointment. I don’t recognize...any of that. Well, there goes that idea. Frustration welled up in him again as he cast his eyes again across his fellows. The real question is why we’re all like this, and why these other people don’t seem surprised. Could they be the instigators of whatever had robbed them of their pasts? Even if they are, I can’t do anything about it. Some hidden agenda didn’t make them less loss or helpless, and Matteo definitely felt both. Perhaps a braver man might set out on his own and damn the consequences, but not him.
“Ah— me again,” the curly-haired youth spoke up again mildly, calling the recruiter's attention back to himself, “Natural residents?” He made quote-marks in the air and hesitated. The way he says it makes it sound like they’re hostile, either way. “Additionally, it sounds like you’re already aware of our—” Matteo stopped to indicate the group as a whole, his tone still puzzled, “—circumstances. Our... ignorance, rather.” Why was this guy already prepared to give a bunch of kids a crash-course in what sounded suspiciously like common knowledge?
If you believe the world is flat? It seemed like odd humor for the situation, but the dark-haired young man dismissed it in the face of a greater disappointment. I don’t recognize...any of that. Well, there goes that idea. Frustration welled up in him again as he cast his eyes again across his fellows. The real question is why we’re all like this, and why these other people don’t seem surprised. Could they be the instigators of whatever had robbed them of their pasts? Even if they are, I can’t do anything about it. Some hidden agenda didn’t make them less loss or helpless, and Matteo definitely felt both. Perhaps a braver man might set out on his own and damn the consequences, but not him.
“Ah— me again,” the curly-haired youth spoke up again mildly, calling the recruiter's attention back to himself, “Natural residents?” He made quote-marks in the air and hesitated. The way he says it makes it sound like they’re hostile, either way. “Additionally, it sounds like you’re already aware of our—” Matteo stopped to indicate the group as a whole, his tone still puzzled, “—circumstances. Our... ignorance, rather.” Why was this guy already prepared to give a bunch of kids a crash-course in what sounded suspiciously like common knowledge?
Confusion. Conflicting thoughts, or rather, thoughts conflicting with their absence. It was not a feeling Matteo woke with, but one he discovered for himself as the salt-scented seconds ticked on into minutes and his mind began to work. The dreamy sense of peace first began to fade as one word—Awaken— imperative as breath, filled the void. Then another word, Matteo, followed. His name?
That struck Matteo as odd. Of course that’s my name. More words joined the pair of outliers as his mind reached sleepily for its glasses and slapped against... nothing. No resources. No memories. The solid foundation upon which his thoughts stood had not crumbled— it simply wasn’t there.
He felt the dark curls of his hair shift around his ears as he sat up for the first time, heart swiftly beating to life in his chest. His glasses—his real glasses—were set safely on his face. Had he not taken them off the night before?
What am I wearing? Was I wearing this when I went to bed last night?
He didn’t know.
His frustration ceased a little when he realized there were others in this place with him, and based on the muffled questions he could hear them calling out in the dark, were in the same position he seemed to be in. I really can’t even start to guess what the hell is going on, but it must be a group phenomenon. There was security in knowing that, at least…
Unfortunately, the bewildered group’s focus on “what happened” took a back seat to “what’s going to happen” as with a crack, their dark little world was opened.
As they followed the pair of guards, mindless as lost sheep, Matteo cleared his throat. “Some night, huh?” He kept his voice low and his eyes down as the group moved through the plaza. He didn’t know what else to do but follow their escort— even if the armored duo had something to do with their circumstances, they seemed like the most reliable way to find answers. Besides, wandering off on his own at night when he didn’t know anything— literally anything— about their surroundings seemed like a terrible idea.
He swallowed heavily, idly wondering how long it had been since they'd eaten or drank, when they were finally faced with a pale, scholarly figure who called himself a “recruiter.” His eyes drifted to the flask in the man's hand and he swallowed again. Ah. That doesn’t sound good. To put off the details of what exactly they were being drafted into (no news was good news!) Matteo raised his hand. “Would you mind telling us a little about this city? Where is it, and what is it called?” His tone was mild and polite, but firm. If he could just get his bearings…
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