Chapter 21

Shey sent me a friend invitation and an invite to a private voice chat room. There were a dozen people already there—the eight guys I knew and four I didn't. The ones I knew instantly sent friend invites notated with their real names so the chat program would inform me of who was speaking.

Shey-Shey (Sheynan): That's one hell of a name you have, Jayladon Typhoon.

MoonlightTrickery (Trace): You shouldn't make fun of people's names when you didn't put thought into yours.

Mahogany (Red): Do you need any return scrolls, Jay?

MoonlightTrickery (Trace): Don't worry. I just sent him a stack.

I checked my mail and, sure enough, there was an unread mail. I opened it and transferred the stack of scrolls into my inventory, then retrieved one.

"I'm on my way now," I said.

I opened the return scroll to the Holy Capital.

Teleportation never got old. Instead of making me feel like I'd been displaced, a dimensional wave exploded out from me to replace my surroundings. Because I was still swimming when I opened the scroll, the transition placed me in the air, a foot above the teleportation pad. Thankfully, I noticed in enough time that I was prepared once gravity took hold. I landed as smoothly and gracefully as any winged creature might.

My first impression of the Holy Capital was: hot, noisy, and smelly. Players and NPCs were everywhere, assaulting my senses with their loud voices and varied perfumes. I almost gagged as I was hit in the face with a whiff of someone's sweaty stank.

The setting of the Holy Capital seemed to be a medieval European city inspired by Notre Dame. Instead of a castle, a giant cathedral with six spiraling steeples towered over the surrounding town.

I immediately garnered attention because of my foreign wardrobe. The golden shine of the scales on my Tailfin Belt glittered in the sun, making me seem like some kind of rich fool. The mother-of-pearl finish on my Mother-of-Steel spear only reinforced the impression I was showing off. Visually, I knew they didn't seem like functional items.

And, of course, there was the fact I wasn't wearing a shirt like any self-respecting human player. I thought that might have attracted more attention than anything else, but I'd already started to accept the fact that mermen simply didn't have the same clothing needs as other races.

The loud din in my immediate vicinity quieted as people began whispering. I did my best to ignore them as I gripped my spear and stepped off the teleportation platform, but it was difficult. I knew they were talking about me. Their wide-eyed stares and pointed fingers made it hard to believe they were gossiping about someone else.

[Spirit Linguist – You have learned a new language: Human Tradespeak.]

"Three looking for three to farm Grizzly's Den—no Sages, no Mages!"

"I thought everyone said the underwater zones were filler to prepare for the naval combat system."

"That guy is asking to be robbed."

"Don't bother. That ain't real gold. Gold would be too heavy for a merman to wear."

"Get your ribeye tacos while they're hot, only thirty gold!"

"No way. Someone is actually playing on the ocean maps?"

"Are you sure that's a merman? I thought they had shark teeth and glowed in the dark."

"You're thinking of the other aquatic races. Atlanteans are indistinguishable from humans on the surface."

"Four looking for six for Orion's Bridge—room for one porter!"

"I wonder what his spear is made from."

"Buying glasswing butterflies! Three hundred gold for a female, twenty for a male!"

"Who cares about the merman? Aetherscape needs to hurry up and release a pirate update."

"Hey, fish-boy, over here!" I wanted to sag in relief when I heard Shey's voice calling out to me. Looking in the direction it'd come from, I found Shey and Trace waving from next to a large, ornate fountain in the middle of the cobblestone plaza. Shey was dressed as Robin Hood while Trace was dressed from head to toe in solid black. The other guys had gathered around, either sitting on the edge of the fountain or standing in a semi-circle as they talked among themselves.

Marshall, dressed in heavy blue armor, whistled in awe as I hurried to join them. "Crap, man. You look totally different from real life."

Next to him, Reese vigorously nodded his head in agreement. "Yeah, I didn't recognize you in that costume."

My lips twitched with a suppressed smile because Reese was the last person who should be talking about costumes. The walking fashion disaster was wearing a turban, a fur coat, and a kilt.

Red cleared his throat to get my attention. It was easy to recognize him because of his reddish-brown mage robes. From what I could tell, the guy really loved his namesake color. "Welcome, our friend from afar," he said with a flourishing bow. "I hope your journey was pleasant."

I was nonplussed on how to react to his tone. Was he roleplaying?

Trace rubbed his forehead like he was embarrassed and Shey leaned over to mock-whisper, "Just be yourself. He'll ease up after a few minutes. He's just stiff because he considers your arrival to be a new event. Most of the time, we don't even notice he's roleplaying, although it's fun when he gets into his role during a fight."

"Hi!" Takumi jumped forward to break the tension caused by Red's awkwardness. "We should all do proper introductions. I'm Takumi Tanuki. You can call me Tak although everyone just calls me Takumi. I'm a level ten human Cleric." He spun in place to show off his white toga and held up his ornate priest's battle mace for me to praise. "I'm really good at buffs and debuffs and, if you get any injuries, let me know. I'm really good at making boo-boos disappear. My hobbies are bashing bad guys and treasure hunting. Next!"

Everyone remained silent for a second, unsure whether to go along with Takumi's plans. Surprisingly, Trace followed his lead. "I'm Midnight Trickery, although only NPCs call me that. Trace is fine. I'm a level five Sage. I predominately use Assassin skills and tactics. I'm pretty much the Treasurer of the group."

"I'm the President," Sheynan said, electing himself.

"We don't have a President," Trace countered. "We're not a Guild."

Shey stuck his tongue out at him. "My in-game name is Shey-Shey, as you already know. I'm a level ten elven Archer and I really like sniping stuff, so let me take the first shot whenever possible."

"I'm Blue Calvalry," Marshall said, pounding his metal chest plate. "I'm the biggest guy here and I'm a level eleven warrior, so it only makes sense for me to be the group's tank. I like eating and cooking, so let me know if you want to trade recipes. Uh, my race is lion Beastman, but I went with a low bestial quotient. That's why I seem mostly human."

"Doom Whistle, vampire Assassin," Jackson offered.

He didn't say anything else and no one seemed to expect him to, because Harris raised his hand to say, "I'm Demon Mage called Charlatan. You already know Red. He goes by Mahagony. He uses elemental attack spells. I prefer golems."

Red nodded to say that Harris' introduction sufficed to cover his share.

"I guess that leaves me," Reese said with a wide, welcoming grin. "I'm Reese Oleander, at your service. I'm the Sage class, but I'm not the combat type like you and Trace. I'm a lover, not a fighter. You can consider me the group's dedicated crafter. If you need something upgraded, built, or created, I'm your man. And despite what everyone thinks, I do have good taste. If you don't believe me, just look at everyone's gear. I made eighty percent of it."

I took a second glance at the group's armor and costumes. I had to admit they were well made and seemed to fit each person's personality.

"We have four other regular party members," Trace interjected. "Casper is a dedicated merchant who runs our shop. He's actually Shey's Uncle, so don't be surprised when you see he's older than us. The other three are Marshall's three sisters. They're our backup Warrior, Archer, and Cleric. They wanted to be here, but they're in the middle of a quest."

The number of people left me confused. "I thought a standard group was six people? Or are you guys a guild?"

Everyone huffed like it was a question they were asked a lot. Shey shook his head like my question actually disappointed him. "No, no, no," he replied, waving a finger at me. "Get the idea of guilds out of your head, Jay. Guilds are no good. Most of them are no better than black companies where the guys on top feed off the hard work of those on the bottom."

"Guilds are trash," Trace agreed, his voice thick with disgust. "They seal off maps, pillage independent players, and they're megalomaniacs so obsessed with taking over a game's economy they'll fight whole wars over it. It makes for great entertainment, but it's not something we want to take part in. Let other people rule the world. We just want to be able to live in it."

"We're an Adventurer Party," Marshall clarified. "Our aim is to become strong enough that Guilds won't bully us, but enjoy ourselves at the same time. Most of the time, we don't actually meet up like this. We explore and quest in smaller teams, and only come together for bigger dungeons or events. And, of course, we always offer each other backup if one of our party members is being bullied."

"Twenty fighters," Reese exclaimed. "We want to keep our membership around that number because that's all we need for a mid-size dungeon. Anything more is sprinkles on a sundae."

"That makes sense." I relaxed, not having realized I'd been tense. I'd heard some rumors about Guilds myself and I definitely didn't want to get dragged into someone's ambition. I preferred having freedom--and it seemed like the guys thought the same way. "Does your party have a name?"

The guys traded looks with each other. It was Shey who answered with a careless shrug. "Nope. Why do we need something formal like that?"