Chapter 431: They Are Taking Our People

More than two weeks had passed since the Adventurer Guild opened registration in the Royal Capital, and the first signs of change appeared in places Sage rarely visited.

The Bent Spear was one of dozens of taverns where mercenary companies had recruited Warriors for years. By late afternoon, recruiters normally occupied the largest tables while independent Knights and Mages listened to offers over ale.

Yet that afternoon, three recruitment tables stood almost empty. One recruiter had spent nearly an hour speaking to nobody, while another watched two young Knights finish their drinks and leave after saying they wanted to visit the Adventurer Guild before accepting anything.

At a corner table, four independent Warriors were discussing exactly that. None had grown comfortable with the strange new word Adventurer yet, but all four had visited the Grand Complex.

A scarred Knight named Pel had already registered. When his companions questioned why he would bind himself to another organization after years avoiding mercenary companies.

Pel tapped the Guild plate beneath his cloak and explained, "I haven’t bound myself to anyone. I can still take work elsewhere. If I see a Guild mission I like, I take it. If I don’t, I walk away. Yesterday I sold a Marsh Stalker hide through their Exchange, had my sword repaired while I ate, then spent two hours inside the Mana Tower. Nobody asked me to swear loyalty to Sage Alistair."

One of his companions asked what the Guild gained by allowing such freedom, and Pel explained that its halls charged for many services while contribution points encouraged members to return.

The youngest among them, a Mage considering a six-month mercenary contract, cared about something else. He leaned closer and asked whether the Mana Tower truly worked.

Pel’s expression immediately changed as he told him the rumors had understated it. By the time their drinks were finished, the Mage had decided to postpone signing anything until he visited the tower himself.

Similar conversations were spreading throughout the western Capital. The Guild had not emptied mercenary halls within two weeks, nor had every Warrior suddenly decided Sage’s organization was better.

Many experienced mercenaries preferred companies where they already had trusted companions. Knight Orders offered prestige the Guild could not yet match, while noble Houses could provide wealth, protection and connections.

Yet the Guild had inserted itself among the choices Warriors considered without requiring them to abandon what they already possessed.

That was what began troubling the more observant mercenary captains. A Warrior belonging to a company could register as an Adventurer and remain a mercenary. He could continue taking company contracts while using Guild healers, smithies, training grounds, appraisal counters and lodging.

When his company lacked suitable work, he could inspect Guild missions. If he recovered unfamiliar monster materials, the Exchange could appraise them.

If he wanted to cultivate, the Mana Tower waited.

Guild Rank created another record of his accomplishments, while contribution points rewarded continued participation. There was no moment when the Guild demanded that he choose one side.

At first, mercenary leaders dismissed the registrations as curiosity. The Old Western Garrison had become an enormous complex, and the hundred-floor tower could be seen from districts that had barely heard Sage’s name. Naturally Warriors wanted to see it.

Give the excitement time, several captains argued, and everything would settle.

Then the numbers arrived.

Hundreds had registered during the first days, and registrations continued.

The Mana Cultivation Tower had become the greatest attraction. Knights tested how high their bodies could endure the growing mana pressure, while Mages compared floors and cultivation times in taverns as though discussing famous training grounds.

Some visitors paid the higher price without registering, only to return later after discovering the advantages granted to Guild members.

Clients were changing as well. Merchants who once searched taverns for guards had begun carrying requests to the Grand Guild Hall because the Guild recorded agreed rewards and could present suitable Warriors without forcing a client to bargain separately with every group.

Monster exterminations appeared beside escort work, searches and gathering missions. Garran rejected badly described requests often enough to anger some clients, but others appreciated knowing that a mission bearing the Guild’s mark had at least been examined before reaching a Warrior.

The Exchange attracted merchants even faster. Monster hides, teeth, bones, cores, herbs and dungeon finds entered the Grand Complex every day, and traders followed them.

Some watched prices while others sought places within the Exchange. Smiths wanted monster materials, alchemists wanted rare ingredients, and merchants quickly understood what a single place receiving goods from hundreds of Warriors could become.

For the mercenary companies, however, the most irritating questions came from their own people.

At the Red Falcon Company’s compound, a recruiter named Harven was explaining a monster-hunting contract to six young Knights when one asked whether the company would pay for treatment if someone was injured.

Harven explained that severe wounds suffered during approved work could receive some assistance according to company rules.

The Knight immediately asked why registered Adventurers received better prices from Guild healers even when they weren’t injured on Guild missions.

Another wanted to know whether Red Falcon intended to provide cultivation grounds comparable to the Mana Tower, while a third questioned why monster materials taken during company work had to be sold through the company’s usual buyers without an independent appraisal.

Harven’s patience thinned until he finally asked, "If all of you admire this Guild so much, why are you sitting here?"

His irritation silenced the table briefly, but one of the Knights eventually answered with uncomfortable honesty. He had worked with Red Falcon for three years and still liked the company’s contracts and people. Registering with the Guild didn’t require him to leave any of that. He could have both.

That answer stayed with Harven long after the meeting ended.

The same problem appeared elsewhere in different forms. Veteran mercenaries registered because they wanted the tower. Younger Mages registered because Guild missions allowed them to build their own records. Independent Warriors registered because nothing prevented them from walking away whenever they wished. Even some noble retainers visited the public facilities when their duties allowed it.

Nobody could point toward a campaign where Sage stood outside mercenary compounds promising greater wages or demanding that Warriors break existing agreements. He wasn’t trying to replace their captains or encourage betrayal. That almost made the situation worse because there was no obvious offense to answer.

The Guild simply existed, and Warriors were beginning to compare.

A mercenary company might provide work, companions, training and protection, but its members now asked why treatment wasn’t better, why rewards weren’t clearer, why materials had to pass through particular merchants, why cultivation depended on whatever grounds the company owned and why years of completed contracts meant little outside that company.

Questions rarely asked before were spreading because Warriors finally had something new against which to measure the old ways.

At the Grand Complex, Sage knew little about most of those conversations. His problems were immediate. Registration counters remained crowded. The Mana Tower required stricter schedules.

The Exchange needed more appraisers. Mission requests were increasing faster than Garran’s people could examine them, and Maura wanted another restaurant opened because the four already operating were packed through much of the day. Sage wasn’t trying to weaken anyone.

He was trying to prevent the Headquarters from choking on its own growth.

Pax understood the wider problem better. His people continued watching the watchers, and after more than two weeks, the men lingering near the Guild gates were no longer merely curious. Three mercenary companies had observed registration from the beginning. Now there were more, and several were sending regular reports back to their compounds.

What concerned them was not how many Warriors had left, because almost none had. It was how many had joined the Guild while staying where they were. The Adventurer Guild had entered their companies without taking a banner down, and nobody yet knew what that would mean.

One of those reports reached a fortified compound belonging to one of the Capital’s major mercenary organizations after sunset. Senior captains who had already gone home were summoned back.

Two officers were pulled from evening training, while another arrived still wearing the cloak he had taken to dinner. None understood why they had been called until they entered the meeting chamber and saw the long table.

Reports covered it from end to end: Adventurer registrations, Mana Tower attendance, Guild mission requests, merchant activity around the Exchange, names of company members confirmed to have registered, estimates of Warriors awaiting assessment and notes from recruiters describing the questions now being asked by new recruits.

The mercenary leader seated at the head of the table read silently, turning one report after another while his officers waited. Eventually, one captain leaned forward and asked how many of their own people had registered.

The leader paused over the latest list before answering, "Enough that I want to know why I learned the true number from someone watching the Guild gates instead of from my own captains."

No one answered.

He spread several reports across the table and looked slowly around the chamber. A few seats remained empty because their occupants had not yet arrived, and several officers hadn’t even changed from whatever they had been doing when the summons reached them.

The meeting had not been scheduled.

It was an emergency meeting.