Quest for Copper

Arlan stood in line behind a pair of chattering young adventurers, rehearsing what he would say. The guild clerk, a middle-aged man with thinning hair, was processing a registration for the two in front of Arlan. One of them excitedly declared herself a Mage, the other a Swordsman. The clerk recorded their information on parchment and handed them each a small wooden tag – probably a beginner's guild identification tag.

Arlan's palms were sweaty. Bones shifted slightly in his pocket, and he rested a hand over the lump to still the rat. "Next!" the clerk called, looking past the departing pair to Arlan. Arlan stepped forward, trying to appear confident, or at least not terrified.

"Yes? What do you need, boy?" the clerk asked, arching an eyebrow. Up close, the clerk's name badge read "Gareth."

"I… I want to register as an adventurer," Arlan said. His voice came out quieter than he intended. He cleared his throat and repeated louder, "I'd like to register."

Gareth looked him up and down, taking in the threadbare clothes and skinny frame. A hint of skepticism crept into the clerk's eyes. "Age? Name?" he asked, quill ready.

"Sixteen. Name's Arlan. No family name," he replied. That earned a slight softening of the man's expression; plenty of orphans took up adventuring to make something of themselves.

"Alright, Arlan. Sixteen… starting young, huh. Class?" Gareth inquired, quill hovering. This was the moment. Arlan's heart thudded.

"I'm a Summoner," Arlan said, trying to keep his voice steady. "Just awakened." It wasn't a complete lie, from a certain point of view – he did summon something… sort of.

Gareth's eyebrow rose higher. "Summoner, eh? Any particular type? There's beast tamers, spirit summoners, necro—" the man caught himself, as if saying the last part was taboo. "Er, well, various types."

"Beast summons," Arlan blurted. "Small creatures for now." Again, not entirely a lie. He prayed the clerk wouldn't ask for a demonstration.

"Alright. Summoner (Beasts) it is," Gareth muttered, writing it down. Arlan exhaled silently in relief. The clerk took a moment to rummage under the counter and produced a blank wooden tag. "One moment while I inscribe your tag."

As Gareth began carving a few symbols and writing Arlan's name onto the tag with a minor engraving tool, the door of the guild hall banged open. A young man strode in, flanked by two others. He was clad in polished light armor with a white cloak bearing a golden sunburst – the symbol of the Holy Order. His blond hair was neatly trimmed, and he carried himself with an air of entitlement. A sword with an intricate hilt hung at his side. Arlan knew at once who he must be: Cedric, the son of Lord Renwick, a minor noble of the region. Cedric was known to have awakened as a Holy Knight recently, a prodigy of sorts.

Cedric's confident voice rang out as he greeted some guild members he knew. Arlan instinctively shrank a bit, keeping his face down. Holy Knights were essentially living, breathing detectors of evil – their aura often reacting to dark magic. Stay calm, he urged himself, trying to appear as boring and ordinary as possible.

The clerk Gareth barely glanced up at the commotion and handed Arlan his finished tag. "Here you are. As a new registrant, you're rank G (Greenhorn) until you complete some basic tasks. Return here to record any completed quests for credit. Also, there's a one-time registration fee—"

Arlan's stomach dropped. "Fee?" he whispered. He hadn't known about a fee.

"Just 5 copper," Gareth said, almost apologetically. "Covers the tag and administration." Five copper might as well have been a gold coin to Arlan at the moment; he had only a couple left after yesterday. His face must have shown his dismay, because Gareth sighed, glancing at Cedric (who was cheerfully recounting a training bout to an audience). The clerk leaned in and whispered, "Pay it when you can, lad. I'll hold your tag here behind the desk until then, but consider yourself registered."

Arlan blinked, gratitude welling up. "Thank you, sir. I'll get it to you soon," he promised in a hushed tone.

"Good luck, Arlan," Gareth nodded. "Stay safe out there."

Arlan stepped away from the counter just as Cedric and his entourage passed by. He tried to sidestep around them, but one of Cedric's friends, a lanky youth in a cleric's robe, bumped into Arlan deliberately, nearly knocking him over. "Watch it," the cleric sneered, as Arlan mumbled an apology and ducked away. Cedric barely paid attention, but his eyes flicked over Arlan briefly. Arlan felt a cold sweat; for an instant he feared the Holy Knight might sense something off. But Cedric just smirked dismissively and continued on, his shiny boots clicking on the wood floor.

Arlan hurried out of the guild hall, tagless but technically an adventurer now. The morning sun greeted him as he stepped outside, his heart still racing. He let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. Bones stirred in his cloak pocket; perhaps the undead rat had felt his spike of anxiety. "It's okay, Bones," Arlan whispered, patting the pocket gently as he walked. "We did it. We're in the guild… sort of." A small smile found its way onto his face. The first hurdle was cleared, albeit with some fibbing and charity. Now came the truly hard part: actually doing the adventuring.