The gates of Tierwyn stood tall and gleaming under the midday sun, reinforced with shimmering barrier runes that flickered faintly every few seconds. The guards recognized the merchant convoy and allowed them through with a crisp salute.
As they entered the upper district, Marick Othwell guided the party toward the Chamber of Commerce, a polished stone plaza surrounded by domed towers and statues of past trade heroes. Their arrival drew attention—caravans rarely traveled with elite adventurers as escorts.
Inside, the Chamber staff welcomed Marick with deference. Ornate crystal chandeliers bathed the marble floor in soft light. Rows of vaulted glass cases displayed rare trade goods: celestial silk, gold-laced reagents, runestone jewelry, and a glass cube pulsing with captured lightning.
As Marick introduced the group, the staff bowed and ushered them toward the VIP wing.
Drathan broke off from the group, eyes catching on a long obsidian shelf lined with weapons. He moved closer to a black velvet stand displaying a pair of curved daggers — each forged from polished white fangs with subtle crimson veins pulsing within the bone.
"Dragon fang daggers," said the armory steward, noticing his gaze. "Harvested from a fallen wyrm during the Ashen Siege. Blades attuned to shadow and void magic."
Drathan whistled. "Now that's a romantic gesture."
Marick stepped beside him and smiled. "Consider them a gift. My daughters already think you're a legend. May as well arm you like one."
Drathan carefully picked them up, eyes gleaming. "I feel like a protagonist."
Meanwhile, Kenshin was admiring a display of elemental gear. He found a sleek shoulder pauldron etched with lightning runes and inlaid with stormglass along the trim. The metal shimmered faintly with ambient magic.
"Stormguard Sigil Plate," the steward explained. "Lightweight. Boosts resistance and increases kinetic deflection."
Kenshin fitted it over his shoulder and turned toward a mirror. "Yeah... this fits."
Seme, uninterested in glamor, browsed a training vendor stall near the back. Her eyes lit up when she found a set of heavy resistance bands, training bracers, and gravity-core ankle weights.
"These'll do," she said, nodding.
The vendor bowed. "Shall we have them delivered to your villa, Lady Seme?"
"Do it."
As they reconvened, the clerk returned and bowed. "VIP status confirmed," he said. "You may now access exclusive merchant contracts, enchanted equipment permits, and noble commission tiers.". "You may now access exclusive merchant contracts, enchanted equipment permits, and noble commission tiers."
Marick grinned. "A small token of appreciation. There'll be more."
Nelya clung to Drathan's arm tighter. "Does this mean I can request you personally next time?"
Drathan winked. "Careful, I charge extra for repeat performances."
Jissa tugged at Kenshin's scarf, causing him to fluster and adjust his collar. Mira looked away, obviously amused.
After formalities, the party made their way to the guild hall. The moment they stepped through the double doors, a quiet ripple passed through the adventurer crowd.
A pair of silver-ranked lancers near the quest board paused mid-conversation.
"Is that the team that just came back from the eastern marches?" one whispered.
"The ones that cleared three contracts in two days? No way they did that without a casualty."
"No casualties," a staff clerk muttered under her breath, not even looking up from her ledger. "And they helped escort a merchant convoy. Marick Othwell himself vouched for them."
Near the tavern alcove, a group of younger bronze-ranked adventurers huddled close.
"I saw the lightning guy in the wildlands a week ago. He was solo farming ghosts. He looked bored."
"That's the Void guy, right? The one with the cloak that always looks like he's one nap away from godhood?"
"And the tall one? With the giant blade? She passed us on the northern trail and didn't even blink when a bear tried to charge."
"Yeah, and I'm pretty sure she growled back."
One burly fighter leaned back in his chair and muttered to his table, "Guild staff says they're not even elite-rank yet. Just got promoted from mid-tier a week ago. If they're this strong now…"
The murmurs didn't stop, even as the trio approached the counter.
Word of their deeds had already begun to circulate.
They turned in their three completed hunt contracts. The guild attendant, wide-eyed, muttered, "Already cleared all of them? Stars above…" before stamping the parchment with golden seals.
"Bonus awarded for efficiency, minimal civilian injury, and full monster core retrieval," she added.
Drathan smirked. "Tell that to my poor cloak. It smells like marshwolf blood and burnt honey."
Just as they were preparing to head out, a tall woman in scholar's robes approached—her eyes glinting beneath a silver circlet.
"You're the ones from the marshwolf incident?" she asked. "I'm Velra of the Guild's Antiquities Division. We're assembling an expedition to the Shrouded Hollows. A ruin site uncovered near the Wyrmgut Vale. We could use skilled hands—and fast blades."
Seme raised an eyebrow. "Dangerous?"
Velra nodded. "It's said to predate the oldest known elven cities. Sealed magic. Traps. And possibly living constructs."
Drathan stretched his arms. "Sounds like fun."
Kenshin's eyes sparkled. "When do we leave?"
"Two days," Velra replied. "I'll have your names added to the manifest."
Mira glanced toward the villa district. "Time to prep gear, rest, and maybe try on that VIP status."
The trio shared a glance.
The next morning came swiftly. The rising sun bled golden light through Tierwyn's eastern windows as the group assembled at the guild's upper chamber. The room hummed with arcane wards etched into the walls—symbols glowing faintly as a soft buzz filled the air.
Velra, now dressed in expedition leathers with a high-collared coat and map case slung over her shoulder, stood beside a floating illusion map. As the trio entered, she gestured for their attention. Other adventurers gathered in small clusters around the room, most of them seasoned explorers or scholars, their gear mismatched but travel-worn.
"Welcome, all," Velra began. "We'll be setting out at noon for the Wyrmgut Vale. The Shrouded Hollows lie beyond the Broken Spine trail—rough terrain with sparse coverage, and several choke points where ambushes are common."
She tapped the illusion, highlighting a flickering red path across the map.
"Our advance scouts have detected magical bleed in the area. Expect anomalies—gravity shifts, elemental pockets, even corrupted flora. We've had three minor disappearances already."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
Velra raised her voice. "Our objective is to reach the outer seal of the ruins and establish a forward camp. Once inside, your team leaders will be briefed further. Do not attempt to explore on your own. Stay within line of sight and keep formation."
She turned to face the whole group now. "There will be multiple squads involved. Some of you have history with each other—good or bad. But while under Guild banner, there will be no duels, grudges, or sabotage tolerated. Disciplinary measures will be swift and absolute."
Drathan leaned toward Kenshin. "She says that like it's happened before."
"Oh, it has," Mira whispered. "Last expedition to the Cradle Peaks turned into a brawl over loot. One guy got turned into a potted fern."
Seme raised an eyebrow. "...Potted?"
"Long story."
Velra cleared her throat. "Supplies will be distributed at the southern gate. We march in one hour."
With that, the room dispersed into small clusters preparing gear, reviewing maps, and whispering about what might lie within the Hollows.
The trio made their way toward the city's southern gate, packs ready, weapons checked. The streets bustled, but locals stepped aside at the sight of the expedition tags pinned to their cloaks.
As they passed the boundary, the sun shimmered against their armor and blades.
The journey had begun.