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Chapter 175: Enter Loctris

The backdrop of purple clouds shrouded the city like a blanket and it's stone walls and buildings appeared dark because of it. There was not much to see as we approached but one thing was certain – it was huge in comparison to Dawnharbour and Salastria.

It was no wonder the Chancellor made this the home for his scheming and fake persona. This city was the power on the island, and it made the others look like country towns.

Wishing for a birds eye view was moot – I was going to have to do this the hard way. The first thing I noticed was there were many tall towers scattered throughout and some of them reached ten stories high. These were not defensive towers on the perimeter, they were homes or were a base for some organisation.

Junior - and the information Jake had collected - was thin on the ground in terms of the factions and people in Loctris. There were protectors and adepts of course; they wore green cloaks of different hues to represent their status. The heraldry for the city was a dark green lock on a lighter green background. On the banners which hung either side of the main gate the lock looked black.

There was an official tracking farmers, traders and people entering but no visible security. I looked up at the gate towers and could see six healthy cores inside. Judging by their size they were adepts.

Loctris didn't seem to  care about threats from people, only monsters. Everyone was free to enter or leave as they pleased. The official was more interested in taxes and levies.

When he spied our group he asked. "Any cores to declare?"

Vengance shook his head. "We're returning from the sea portal." The official peered suspiciously at us as we passed but otherwise did nothing.

We weren't wearing the guild's red cloaks, but he knew we were adventurers somehow and when I looked at a farmer sitting on his donkey drawn wagon I suspected it was because we stood out.

The main street from the gate into the city centre was wide and well maintained and the further we walked down the busier it got. This was the street the merchants, nobles and farmers alike used until they exited left or right to their destination.

It was fortunate I decided to arrive with the gang of nine simps because it would have taken me days to find the guild hall. It was a rectangular three story building next to two tall towers. It had a flat roof which was presumably usable as well. There were large gardens in the centre of the block and walkways between the buildings around the circumference. It was like a campus of sorts.

I kept my mouth shut and listened because there were things I should already know, and I couldn't ask. The one thing I could do was inspect everyone's cores and when I spied a larger than normal core across the street I looked up and into the window.

A figure darted back out of sight when I looked. They were not part of the campus, but across from it and watching the comings and goings. 

I listened to my guildmates complain. I didn't have much choice because they rarely stopped.

"Damn taxes, we should never declare cores. What can he do anyway?"

"We have to pay for our guildhall somehow, I think it's fair," Waylander replied.

His view was met with derision. "Fuck off," another said. "We should just pay rent. User pays I say and no tax. It takes away incentive to do better."

Spoken like a true rich kid who was given more money than most people would see in a lifetime of hard work. Not that he was wrong, maybe it was because the rich abused the system that it was falling apart in our world.

"And we should pay heaps less rent than the Chancellor's adepts; they have the best floor and the roof."

We shuffled in and someone had left care packages for us in the common room. Similar to other guildhalls the ground floor was for eating, relaxing and gatherings. The footprint was much larger than the guildhall in Dawnharbour and ten times as large as what the whitecloaks had in Salastria.

There was one large and two smaller rooms to the left, then the large open area in the centre with two sets of stairs at either side. Then far to the right was the kitchen and another nondescript room. There were enough chairs, lounges, and tables for a hundred people, but the guild only had twenty five - well twenty three now.

I opened my care package. It had some silver coins, a cloak and a key. There was a note which said.

"The rest of your stuff is in your room. Try not to die like a dick again or your death tax will be doubled, again. You owe us a pound this time and you have a week to pay. Good luck because if you fall short we're adding half a pound each week you're late on top of your normal guild dues. Signed – Jerome."

I scanned the building with my qi sight. There was no land core but in the large room on the ground floor were clusters of cores. They were probably stored in a few large chests. And I thought of what Gisael had said about a Qizhu artifact which converted cores and stored concentrated qi similar to a land core. If I could get my hands on one it would be the perfect way to hide any qi I earned and grow my core.

"I'm so hungry – haven't had proper food in days," one of the nine said.

The rest were in agreement and there was a rush to the kitchens. They pushed and swore as they climbed over one another to get some food. I was hungry too but I hung back and watched them. Waylander was always outnumbered but he wasn't useless and gave as good as he got which was impressive because it was three against one.

Vengance served himself first and walked back towards the tables. He was about to sit when he noticed an old man and moved to the other side. I peered at the old man; he certainly wasn't a guild member nor adept.

When I grabbed my food I sat with him and the reek of alcohol met my nostrils.

His voice slurred. "Who're you?" 

"Gunt a red cloak." I now sported the cloak from my care package because everyone else donned them immediately.

He snorted. "You're no red cloak. Oh. Adventurer's guild that's right. Which class are you in again?"

"Does it matter?"

He sniffed. "Suppose it doesn't. Do you know when the next class is?"

I shrugged and continued to eat. 

"Fine," he said. "Be like that. I'll jess rest here with my bottle and you can get me when it starts."

I had extracted information about his friends, his room and what he did, but Junior never mentioned a drunk old man nor classes – let alone what level.

The old man's core was normal for a beginner adept. A regular person had a pea sized core and gifted people varied in size depending on their innate talent. But everyone could grow their core with the right exercise and feeding. The old man had one the size of a coin, it was smaller than my current core which was the size of a golf ball.

I finished my meal and nodded as I left him. When I returned to the kitchen with plate in hand I noticed a schedule. I approached it to read and Waylander arrived with his plate in hand.

"Looking up training? Did you turn over a new leaf Gunt?"

I gave him a sidelong glance.

"Ah, sorry about before," he said.

"Never say sorry," I said and read the schedule. I was in the training group after breakfast with a Teacher called Leonell. It was a novice group.

Waylander snorted. "You're sounding like them. Look, I know you lost your friends and …"

"You could use one? But I'm a moron – you're definitely scrapping the bottom of the barrel."

"It's better than eating with the drunken master."

"Is he a master?"

He laughed. "No. That's just what we call him. He's some noble who failed to become a protector." He looked sheepish. "I tried to make friends with him too. I thought he might help me with my skills."

"You're trying too hard," I said and walked off. I was supposed to be a stupid asshole after all.

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