Chapter 6.2

For many a Guild, be them Freelancer or some kind of trade Guild, it was a simple tradition to have some kind of welcome for new members. A natural matter of course really.

And the Amber Dawn, fitting to their rowdy nature, was the sort prone to making their welcoming ceremonies full on parties.

The main living space was packed full that evening, the tables packed both by Hall members and their regular visitors to leave the tables full and many more to line the walls and upper floor. At the back of the space, Sellen stood on the small stage that sat beneath the trophy wall, looking across the crowd, making sure to briefly stop for a moment on the ten newcomers, Syr in particular of course.

With a clearing of her throat, and a small gleam at her neck, she then spoke, her voice amplified to project out further across the room.

“Alright all you louts and loudmouths!” her declaration earned a wave of laughs from the other members. “The Dawn’s got ten new fools among our number out of this newest batch! You know the drill! Treat ‘em like you would your own bloody family, make sure their first jobs don’t go to utter piss, and teach ‘em well, cause even the most smart-mouthed git has things to be told! But of course, most of all… hehehe… show them a good time! Or else ol’ Master Sharzok’ll let us have it!”

Another round of laughs came from the crowd, Sellen snickering as she moved to the side. And with a chuckle that rumbled through the building, someone else rose from the crowd to take the stage.

A tall, broad and well-built Orcish man, his skin tanned to a deep shade of emerald, his exposed arms rippling with faded scars from battles long past. His strong, broad features were accented by his well-kept white hair and beard, giving a sense of age and ruggedness, while strong tusks rose from the whiskers of his beard as his onyx eyes scanned the crowd.

Taking in a breath, the orc then bellowed.

“Ooossuuu!” the sudden bellow made some cover their ears, while others echoed the yell as Sharzok laughed, and when he spoke the distinctive bite of an Orcish accent sharpened his words. “That’s the sound I wanna hear from you lot! For you newcomers, I’m the Master of Amber Dawn, Sharzok of the Steeltusk! It’ll be me who’s your boss from now on! Well… on paper. I ain’t much one for those blasted formalities! Ahahahaaa!”

“Say that next time you and the other Masters meet!” someone crowed from the crowd, Sharzok giving a smirk.

“Oi, I tell ‘em every bleedin’ time! Not that some of those stiff Invests listen!” Another round of laughs followed. “But I give my heartiest welcome to those of you who passed your tests! Be it those fresh-faced seekers of fame who were able to put your money where your mouth was, or you from lives before this bringing in experiences of your own to make this place livelier! So tonight, ‘fore you go off onto your first jobs, be it as new members of a team or on your lonesome, drink and make merry! To you newcomers, and to the Amber Dawn! May your fortunes be plenty, and your luck brilliant!”

“May your fortunes be plenty, and your luck brilliant!”

Sharzok led the toast, raising an all too large tankard of ale and downing most of it in that single gulp. When he was done, he turned his attention over. “Oi, Zenver! Get your small arse up here and set the mood with one of your better tunes!”

“Didn’t even need to ask me Boss!” The halfling practically leapt from his chair to take the stage as Sharzok moved to the floor, a quick wave of Zenver’s hands conjuring a guitar into form. “Now how’sa bout something to fit the balmy summer mood, eh? Let’s hit it!”

With a snap of Zenver’s fingers, wispy trails of light flew from his hands, taking form into several spectral copies of himself, each holding a different spectral instrument to go along with his own. Flute, bass, keyboard, drums, and a lute. And as soon as Zenver grabbed hold of his guitar, the drums specter got to opening the tune soon followed by the real bard and his copies, filling the Hall with the bright sound of an energy filled song certainly fit for the summertime.

“See, this is the kind of lively I can get behind!” Syr laughed as she clapped along with the music, Soren chuckling as he ran a finger along the top of his own tankard.

“Zenver’s a rabble rouser, but you’ll rarely find a bard better than him in the city. Just happens to take it as a policy to set the mood for anything he gets caught up in. Bar fights included.”

“Well, can’t deny he’s good at what he does. Style’s a bit familiar… I wonder if he learned some tricks in Vanira?”

“So you can sling spells and got an ear for music? Hahaha! Soren, where the hell do you find someone like this?” Soren sighed as Sellen came trotting over, the Machina about flopping into one of the other free chairs at his and Syr’s table. And she looked all too amused when Syr’s eyes lit up on spotting those head fins of hers. “What Miss Alf, never see an Ars Machina before?”

“Careful~,” Soren chuckled. “She’s an Ascian geek.”

“Huh?”

“No waaaayyyy!” Sellen almost fell out of her chair from how quickly Syr shot up to get a closer look. “I didn’t think I’d get the chance to meet one of you so soon! An actual Ars Machina in the flesh! Incredible… I’d read the research papers but to see one myself… it really is impossible to tell you apart from anyone else outside of the radiator fins…”

“Ahahaaa, flattered you find me so interesting, but uhm… mind not being so close?” Syr blinked as she finally realized she was far too close, almost touching noses with Sellen as she looked around her head. “I do happen to like my personal space.”

“Ah! Sorry!” Syr shot back into her chair almost like she’d been yanked into it. “I just got a bit caught up! I uh… well I have a rather invested interest in the mysteries about the Ascians, and the Ars Machina, well… count for that. I kinda… lose myself when it comes to these things.”

Syr shot Soren a glare as the swordsman was trying, and failing, to stifle his own laughter.

“Well, guess I can’t blame ya,” Sellen chuckled as her head array started shifting about, clearly showing at least some part of her was pleased by Syr’s curiosity. “I know you saw me on the stage, but let’s have a more proper introduction, yeah? Name’s Sellen Knightwalker, and as you can tell, I’m an Ars Machina. If you’re curious, I came from the Cradle found not too far from Aurora here in Laguna. Guess you could say I grew up in the capital before I ended up here.”

“Syr Fleyldis, from Vanira. College graduate and… not much else, hehe. Though I did spend a lot of time around the Recordkeepers.”

The two shook hands, Sellen giving a hum as she then leaned on the table.

“Y’sure? I know Sorcerer’s College graduates are tough cookies, know a few myself. But that display of yours was something else. Barely seen anyone who can easily use as many elements as you did. Got a pretty special talent there, don’t you?”

“Well, my instructors did always say I had a bit of a gift,” and now Syr was the one looking proud of herself. “And thanks to the College I know plenty on how to use it.”

“So you showed us. So hey, how’s about it? Wanna join up with my motley crew?”

“And get dragged to every which continent every other week?” Soren snickered. “Slave driver you may not be, but you also have a rep for running everyone ragged with how many jobs you do in a row.”

“Pff, we never go above five!”

“Ahaha, I’m flattered someone like you would want me on their team, but I want to actually get my feet on the ground properly first,” Syr raised her hands a bit, Sellen humming. “Besides, I’m not sure it would look good if the one who got ranked LR2 out of the gate also joined one of the Guild’s best teams.”

“Eh, understandable. Just know the offers there. At least wanted to ask around Soren, worried he’d get fussy if the rookie he brought in got dragged off by someone else without him knowing.”

“Oi,” Soren gave Sellen a lidded look, the Machina chuckling. “Don’t go giving some weird ideas about me now. I picked the solo route for my own reasons. Not one to get all uppity about someone choosing a team just ‘cause I brought them in.”

“Ahhh shame, I almost hoped you’d be a bit jealous,” Syr snickered, Soren rolling his eyes with a playful huff. “Buuut, if you don’t mind helping little ol’ me get used to the Freelancer life, I wouldn’t mind.”

“Haha! I’m sure you’ll be used to it inside of a month tops. But, for real, congrats on getting in. You did a helluva job impressing all the other High Rankers. You’re gonna have a lot of eyes on you.”

“Ah, wonderful…”

Soren and Sellen chuckled as Syr hung her head in faux worry. And then, attention turned when they heard Sharzok suddenly bellow from the stage again.

“Heyyy! Sellen! Soren! Get on up and get ready! You know the drill!”

“Oh, here we go…” Soren’s shoulders sagged as he turned to face the Guild Master, the orc with a wide, trouble-stirring grin on. “The other tradition when we welcome newbies.”