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"What do you mean, 'Wrong papers,'? I was just here last week!" I slam my fist on the counter causing the cat behind it to jump.
"I'm sorry, I'm just telling you what I was told! Your records are out of date, we can't pay you!" her fur puffs up as she tries to not yell back.
"Well, what do I gotta do to get paid? Can you figure that out? I'm kinda in a bind at the moment, and I just finished this job!" to extenuate my point, I place the bloody sack in my other hand onto the counter.
"Please, sir, get that oof my counter. I can talk to the Guild's local journeyman, but that's all I can do!" she goes to push the sack off before remembering the blood on its surface and feigning her hand, waves it away.
"Then just do that! The longer I'm here, the longer it takes me to finish the other jobs I have lined up!" I motion to shoo her out with my hands.
"Then, please, take that thing of the counter, and I'll go talk to her," she shuffles off her stool and makes to the back.
I sigh, and pull the sack off then make my way over to a bench in the Guild's common area. Placing the sack between my feet, I place my head on the table I'm at and shut my eyes. All this way, and I get sidelined by bureaucracy of the very Guild I've been working for for the last 5 years of my life. You'd think an organization this big wouldn't fall to small mistakes, especially when you carry the majority of the paperwork yourself.
I lift my head and look around the room. Anthros of all shapes and sizes roam the room and eat various plates of meats, legumes, breads, and soups. Carnivores and herbivores challenging each other to drinking contest, losers paying for drinks. Others tell battle stories against mighty beast they were paid to fight, others just by random chance. I heard tales of another human, but I've never met them. Not many get pulled and if we are, we just get placed at random points as far away from one another as possible.
Through all the commotion, I make eye contact with a specific wolf. And he starts making his way over, trailing a line of ale across the floor as he approaches.
"Hey, Berty, how's it going with the hunts?" clearly drunk, he falls onto the opposite bench, pushing the table towards me.
"Not great, Callan. Apparently my paperwork needs rewriting," I explain as I rub my temples and shut my eyes.
"But, didn't you get paid for a job last week?" the large grey wolf leans in, the smell of beef and alcohol heavy on his breath. Must've been a good payment.
"That's what I was telling her, but apparently they aren't happy with whatever they did to my stuff!" I again hit the table with enough force to bounce Callan's mug an inch, even in his hand.
"I wouldn't worry about it too much, they just got a new journeyman in and I here she's quick with the licensing. You'll be done in no time," he finishes by licking his hand of the frothy liquid before downing the rest. "Just got to be patient!" his smile wobbles a bit as he steadies himself.
"Look, man, you know I'm kinda in a bind, and I need the money. Just frustrated with the Guild fucking with my payments," my head drops again and hits the table with a solid thud.
"Hey, man, just relax. You'll get your money and be on your way! You just have to calm down and get a drink, if that helps," reaching behind him, he grabs a flagon off the table behind him off a passed out pig, and downs that as well.
"You really need to lay off that stuff, it'll be the end of ya," I tell him as he raises the bottom to the sky and dops fall from the rim into his waiting maw. He doesn't return it to the table, instead, he goes back with it to the floor with a crash. I can only stare at the passed out drunken wolf I call a friend lying on the floor.
A round of cheers burst from the rest of his party who then proceed to come and collect him. A few offer congratulations on my hunt to which I offer a small wave and nod. Just as quickly as they came to collect, they're gone just as fast. And with that, my table falls back into stillness.
Don't get me wrong, the rest of the Guild's inn is still celebrating and drinking to their hearts' content, just my table only holds me. Because of my status as a human, I tend to be placed firmly at the edge of society and away from all wandering eyes.
I don't mind it most of the time. I never was much of a people person back home. In my travels, though, I do believe humans are pulled here to be granted that connection, whether they want it or not. Legends do speak of others being pulled here and all seem to find someone roughly within a short time of being pulled.
There was Alejandro the Gracious who arrived first, if it's to be believed. A social exile of his homeland, he was adopted into a tribe of lions and inserted himself into the guard to help protect his new village. It wasn't long before he was called to action and raid an enemy tribe. And raid he did. In short order, he and his group overwhelmed the defenses and made slaves of the survivors. But, one slave caught his eye.
A beautiful lioness with fur of gold, and eyes of coal. She was given to him as first pick, as he was the one leading the charge. Her name was Sibsi. Their first night together, he found out she was a witch of unparalleled power and was about to kill him. He thought fast and did the only thing that came to mind and kissed her. She took this as a grave offense and fled, to which Alejandro gave chase, not wanting to lose such valuable a prize.
Over highest mountains, through the lowest valleys, across deserts, and rough seas, he chased her down and cornered her in an ancient and ruined castle. There, they fought. Her Trying to kill him, and he trying to subdue her. On and on it went, neither gave the other an inch, only that they surrender to the other.
It finally came to a head when Alejandro parried a fireball launched by Sibsi, sending her to the edge of the tower they were fighting on. Refusing to be taken back as a prize for such a barbaric race, she went to throw herself over the tower's edge. Only, she didn't fall. Alejandro had caught her at the last moment, and while holding her he confessed to her. Pledging his life to her and her happiness, and never would he betray her trust or love.
Or so the story goes. There've been others of equal or lesser dramatic tension. The only other human I've heard about running around now seems to have picked up a moocher of a fox and is currently moving through another kingdom clearing dungeons of monsters of an evil origin. Meanwhile, I got stuck in the Guild trying to make money for a debt I owe.
Maybe they should have some organization to help transmigratory humans settle into society. Maybe call it, I don't know, the Guild of Human Affairs? The GHA? It's a working title.
And speaking of money, that receptionist is sure taking a while to get me cleared to see the journeyman. Wonder what's taking so long. I've been an upstanding model of an adventurer, never gone above the head of the clients. Don't have any complaints on board either. I've handled everything from escorting to slaying monsters without putting others at serious risk. Why am I being targeted!
I really hope it's not connected to that mafia I sabotaged a year ago. Broke their underground abduction and sex ring without ever showing my face. But maybe they did find out it was me. And if they can track me down, then they'd find Callan too! I should warn him and let him know his family might be in danger! I gotta-
"Bertram Callow!" a voice calls out to me as I start standing up. Turning, the calico receptionist is now back at her post staring levelly at me. With that, I grab my sack and quickly head over.
"The journeyman will see you now," she motions over to the door at the top of the stairs.
"Thank you. Can you watch this?" I offer the sack.
"Just...take it with you, she won't mind," she waves me off.
"Alright, thank you," I give her a nod and head up to the stairs.
I hear her grumble something, but I pay it no mind. The stairwell is darker than the rest of the building, the only light being what's coming from open doors and the faint, flickering lamp lights of the oil lamps that line the room below. As I head up, the stink of burning animal fat is slowly replaced with that of burning beeswax. The other scent that starts to gather is that of ink. That peculiar stink of mild coal and trees' sap that these people use to adhere the ink to the parchment.
The dread of being of being found out by the criminal underground fades as a new terror starts to take hold. Just who was up here? It's a apparently a woman, and if she's a journeyman, she must be around my age. So, meeting my paper pusher is starting to get to me as the younger they are, the more they want to impress their bosses so they can move up in the world. Same as back home.
But that raises the other question. Is SHE the one who revoked my license? I mean, it makes sense. I've been in this guild hall for around 3 months at this point, so my name must've started floating around the realm too. As well as my species. Maybe she just hates humans and wanted to rid the Guild of the 'nuisance' and clear its name of any of the supposed taint of my species.
The steps start creaking on the way up, loudly announcing my coming. And my sack bounces against the tightened walls of the stairs with wet, muffled thumps leaving semi-dry blood flecks on the wall on my left. Might teach them to revoke MY license! Fuck with me, I fuck with your janitor! With a light giggle, I knock on the door.
"Enter," a ruff feminine voice calls out, and I push the door in.
The door gives me trouble, and opening shows why. Stacks of parchment rolls and tomes litter the room in cluttered but ordered stacks, blocking my view of the main desk and it's occupant. The normally full shelves that hold all this mess are currently empty, and glancing at them all reveals they are Guild manifest of all current and past members. And their payments.
"A bit early for spring cleaning, isn't it?" I bounce around the stacks trying to find my way to the desk, not making much headway.
"Not when your moving in," her sentence is curt and spoken monotone and reeks of pipeweed, but sounds eerily familiar.
"Well, if a shoeprint ruins a license, they can blame it on you," a particularly tall stack of tomes collapses as I nudge it a bit too hard, and crashes into a stack of parchment rolls, crushing them.
"Wouldn't be a hard fix. Not like yours," again, her voice is causing the hairs on my neck to rise, she sounds like someone I know.
"So, got a name?" I try and make conversation to distract myself on the path to the still hidden desk. The smell of pipeweed is indeed getting stronger.
"It's rude to ask that when we can't see each other," she sounds more annoyed with me than the question.
"It's also rude to ignore and rebuke that question, my liege," I know I shouldn't be giving her snark, but it feels too good.
"Watch. Your. Tongue," I really hit a nerve on that, and my blood runs cold.
I know who this is.
"Rinelt?" I freeze on the spot.
"That's Journeyman Rinelt, or ma'am to you. Now please, get to my desk!" The near constant scratching on parchment stops as she says this before restarting.
Finally, round the corner of a wall of tomes and scrolls, I find the desk with a hare doe with a brownish coat and a lighter brown coating her chin and throat stretching down under her jacket scratching away onto a scroll with a tome open on a desk stand next to her. Orange eyes scan the pages as she reads and writes. Her fingers on her right hand are coated black from the ink she's using to write. A white flat cap with strings of beads at equal intervals holds her long ears back near perpendicular to the floor.
"Sit," she says without looking up.
I follow her command and take a seat on the stool in front of me, my eyes never leaving her. I sit and stare at my suppose-to-be fiance continue to scratch onto the parchment in front of her and keep my mouth shut. When she's like this, you wait for her to continue.
For half an hour, she continues to write out whatever it is she's working on. Her script too cursive to even begin to read for an amateur like me to read that foreign writ. The sack had all but dried up in the wait for permission to speak. But finally, the scratching stops, and she replaces her quill into the inkwell, and pounces the scroll before turning to me.
She looks me up and down, and by the look in her eyes, she's not liking what she's seeing. I know I look more haggard than the last time I saw her, but I don't think I look that bad. Mostly...
I was about to open my mouth to ask a question when she cut me off. "Do you know why you're here, Adventurer Callow?" Her face remains straight, but I can see the underlying muscles of her cheeks and eyebrows shifting as she fights to maintain a neutral expression. I've known her far too well for her to hide it from me.
"Cause you suspended my license? I wouldn't be in the room otherwise," I lean back and rest an elbow on the back of the chair.
"Not suspended. Voided," she grabs the pipe from its stand and takes a puff, and all I can feel is the bottom drop from my stomach.
"VOIDED?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN, 'VOIDED'?!" I jump up and slam my hands firmly on the table, the sack hits the rear of the left side inbuilt cabinets. She doesn't react to this, only huffs out a fog of smoke for my outburst.
"Voided, as in, 'medically retiring the adventurer' voided. Have you even seen yourself lately?" she points to my left hand. Missing from it are most of my ring and pinky fingers, lost in a sword fight early on in my time in the Guild.
"You don't need those to carry a shield!" I hold up the offending extremity, and she finally breaks character and winces. This doesn't totally stop her.
"And according to my records, you're also missing a leg below the knee," the small hitches in her breathing can't be fought back, apparently.
"I can still walk and run!" To demonstrate my point, I jog in place.
"You were also shot through the lung with an arrow," to distract herself, she looks at the tome to her left and runs a claw down the list.
"I'm still breathing!" taking a deep breath, I hold for a few seconds before releasing it.
"While wheezing. You need to face the facts! You are not physically fit to work for the Guild, and need to be removed from its roster," she slides the parchment she was working on over. "This is a standard withdrawal of service agreement. It just says you are voluntarily withdrawing from the Guild-"
"What if I don't sign?" I slump back into my chair and stare down the agreement.
"Then you will not be able to work in any other guilds in the future. It will show you are an unreliable asset to work with, and I-I'd rather not have that," she vocally breaks the act she's putting on with a slight stutter.
"Can I fight it?" leaning forward, I look her in the eyes for any help.
"Only if you sign. You will then have to bring it up with the kingdom master and prove to them you can still serve the Guild's interest with adequacy," she pushes the parchment closer. "But I doubt he'd take you back. Amputees are seldom able to regain entry into the Guild. Now please, sign," she pushes the quill and inkwell over.
"But, the dowry-"
"Stop. Not now, not here. Sign," she cuts me off much harder than before, practiculy shoving the offensive items closer.
My head slowly drops as tears form. For years, I gave my life for the Guild in the pursuit of that dowry, and now, she's just stripping it away. With nothing but the scratch of a quill, and I have nowhere near enough to make the payment.
The first tear leaves my eye as I raise my hand and take the quill. With the greatest difficulty, I scratch my name onto the sheet, and which point she pulls it back and pounces it.
"You will be paid what you're owed from the last job you took at the front desk, at which the contract between you and the Guild will be null and void. Thank you for your service," she raises her hand to shake, but I just get up and start making my way out, leaving the sack. And as I near the door through the maze, I hear a scuffle and a muffled pounding on the wooden floor.
Turning around, Rinelt stands behind me with her arms clasped in front of her. She looks at me expectantly and flashes her eyes to the door. I wipe my eyes and take the hint and leave the room. Only, she follows me. Not just down the stairs, but to the desk. And when I get to it, she nods to the calico who then drops a leather pouch on the counter. Taking and opening it reveals 40 silver coins, the full payment. Pocketing it I turn to leave.
"Cyan, I'm stepping out for the night. I'll see you in 2 days," Rinelt informs the cat.
"Yes, ma'am. I'll see you then," she replies and Rinelt steps up behind me.
"Come, I know where can speak privately," and she walks off to the south, and I reluctantly follow.
We don't speak the whole way. Her hands stay clasped behind her, even as she bumps into other in the market. Slowly and surely, we start making our way into the residential areas and further onto the hill houses. At the base of the hill, a ring of structures connected by arches and each others walls encircles the hill, and she moves to a house of very little note.
She pulls a key from a necklace hidden in her coat and opens the door, inviting me in. I step around her and walk into the dark house, its hearth and lamps all out at the moment. Taking stock of the main floor, I see no furniture. the house also lacks the dried herbs associated with someone living here. It's completely empty.
"Upstairs," she commands as she closes and locks the door and makes her way to the ladder at the back of the room.
After she disappears, I follow up and see that the only thing up here is a bed and desk with a chair. Each piece in a style that they fit piece by piece through the ladder's hole. She sits on the bed and pats the area next to her, so I take a seat. And we sit in silence for a while. The setting sun's orange light hits the wall at the head of the bed to our right, subtly illuminating the room's cream colored walls. After a few minutes, I break the silence.
"Why?" the only word I can think to ask.
She looks at me a moment, and the mask finally breaks. Tears form and fall, she doesn't even bother to wipe them. "Because I worry about you more than you know," she shudders out. I feel my shoulders sag watching her cry. "You had all the options to get money, and you chose the Guild! Why?!" she rounds on me, anger and sadness carve themselves onto her features as she stares me down.
"Because it was the quickest way to get the dowry payments!" I turn it around on her, finally getting my frustration of the last 2 years out. "I would've done literally anything else if it would've gotten me the money!"
"But you could've! Your miniscule mechanical works of gears and bronze are by far in a league of their own, you could've gone to the Engineers Guild with those ideas!" she grabs my right hand and puts it in front of my face to make her point.
"But there isn't a market for those! Nobody would've bought them, and I'd still be in the same boat as I am now!" I fire back, but squeeze her hand just to feel her again.
"You could've made the market! And damn the dowry! Why are you so obsessed with giving my father what he wants? I told you I was going elope with you, di I not?!" she pulls herself into my side and returns the squeeze in our hands.
"Because it wouldn't have been proper. If I am to marry you, I want to do this right by your traditions," I finally relent and lean on her. Her soft fur finally pressing into my face fills me with a calmness I hadn't felt since leaving her.
"And I said to damn the traditions. I was never going to be with anyone but you, and by you running off into the wilds and getting yourself torn to pieces, I had to tear my ears off to find where you disappeared to. Why did you come here of ALL places?" she lets go of my hand and turns her body and my head to face each other.
"Because this area is rife with profit, and I could lift a sword well enough to make a quick turnaround. I was making swift progress until, well, today," I explain and shift my body to face her so my neck wouldn't be achey.
Again, we sit in silence, but a weight seems to have lifted. Our complaints finally aired, we seem to settle down and just bask in each others company. Evidently, she seems impatient with our stalling, and leans in.
Her lips brush mine before they connect. Like long lost puzzle pieces, our lips fit together as so many times before on excursions into quiet nights away from her family. Her buck teeth press into my mouth, even though our tongues remain apart and our mouths closed. It's over too soon as she breaks the kiss and looks into my eyes.
"We'll get you setup in the Engineer's Guild tomorrow, and see about getting you permantly rooted here with me. After that, we send father a letter letting him know we eloped. We can use your savings to buy more furniture and cooking supplies aswell," she lists off as she gets up and starts pacing the room.
"Don't I get a say in what I do?" I raise an eyebrow and lean back on the bed.
"As far as I'm aware, as your wife I get a large say in you economical affairs. Isn't that how it's done in your home?" she raises the corner of her mouth in a half smile.
"But you're not my wife yet, are you?" I return the half smile from her bed.
She seemed to remember something, and turns to the table. On it is an envelope sealed with a wax stamp, which she grabs and opens. She upends it into her waiting hand, and the of small metal items clattering together strike her palm. "Hold out you left hand," she orders turning to me, which I follow. The partial stump of my ring finger is then fitted with a plain silver ring, a single rune etched onto its surface. A matching one is then placed onto her waiting finger.
"I think we need a priest to ordain this union," I suggest as I turn my hand around studying the ring on my stump.
"We will. Just making sure you don't run off again with ideas of grandeur," she turns and sits back on the bed beside me. "You may have broken your body, and ignored my wishes, but I promise to stay by your side for the rest of our lives," she takes my left hand and places it to her breast. I snicker at this, but her glare shuts that down. I sigh, but smile and begin the reply.
"You may have stalked me down, and forced my hand, but I promise to stay by your side for the rest of our lives," I placed her ringed hand on my breast, following her example. This seems to please her as she continues.
Again, she kisses me, only deeper and pulls me into it with her hand on the back of my head. I follow suit, and pull her into an awkward hug with our ringed hands clenched between us. She pushes me back after a couple seconds and breaking the kiss.
"The next thing we need to do is consummate the marriage," her eyes show a hunger I'd never seen in her before. The normally stoic hare has a need she can't resist now.
And neither can I.
"I love you, Rinelt," I gasp out as I stare at her from below.
"I love you too, Bertram," is the last thing she says before plunging her tongue into my mouth.