29: Polite Company
Heading back out to the main hall, I wondered how they would know if you were a guild member or not. Did I need a card or something?
“Hey Milo, how do they know you’re a guild member?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.
“Ah, it’s simple,” Milo replied. “Those screens you see people carrying are part of a network tied to a magical centre. They use a combination of scribing skills and space magic. Beyond that, they can read basic info about your status—like your name, class, and level. The magic is pretty complex, but it references data stored at the central guild hall, which is linked to you.” Milo explained as we walked toward the services door.
“So, what happens if someone has the same name and class? I don’t have a last name, so surely there are other Trevors out there. What if I got warrior and they did too?” I asked.
“You know, I never asked that question, so I don’t know,” Milo said, approaching a panel next to the door leading into guild services. “This panel here should recognise you as a guild member now and allow you entry. Just walk up to it.” He gestured toward the quartz panel embedded in the wall.
As I stepped closer, I saw text begin to appear on the screen.
Name: Trevor
Type: Support
Party: Polite Company
Entry Granted.
With that, the door opened.
“Polite company?” I asked, confused. I heard Liane groan somewhere nearby, though I couldn’t see her. Milo just chuckled.
“Our fearless leader decided we needed a professional name—one the people could trust—and forgot to ask anyone else in the party what we thought about it,” Milo said, laughing softly.
“It’s such a bad name! And it’ll cost fifty gold to change it!” Liane appeared, far more upset now, throwing her hands in the air with exaggerated frustration. “He knew. He did it just to mess with us, I’m sure of it!”
“You know Hari wouldn’t have thought about it that deeply. He probably just assumed we all agreed with him. We’ll get it changed one day. Don’t worry!” Milo said reassuringly.
We stepped through the services door into a large open hall. Shops lined either side.
“Alright, here’s what’s important,” Milo said, gesturing. “First, to the right is the alchemy hall. They buy herbs and ingredients, sell potions and elixirs, and some poultices—but they don’t sell alchemy herbs.” He pointed to the left side.
“That place is the loot house,” he explained, indicating a beaten-up counter in a cramped room stacked with random items in no particular order. “They’ll buy pretty much any monster parts or items you bring them. Fair warning, though—they tend to underpay compared to proper stores. But sometimes, if you know what you’re looking for or have a keen eye, you can catch a real bargain.”
“We’ll be going there shortly to sell those Galvonson feathers we collected, on the opposite side, we have the repair shop so any damaged items or armour they can usually get back to working order,” He said, pointing at a place that resembled a forge,
“And lastly, the emergency medical facility, now I’ll warn you, they are very expensive, but if you have no other choice, that’s where you go,” he concluded.
He headed toward the loot house. I stood in awe of the towering stacks of items—weapons, armour, and all manner of monster parts: scales, feathers, beaks, claws, hides. Honestly, it was amazing.
Behind the counter sat a short, stocky man with a long beard that nearly touched his knees.
“Welcome to the loot house. How can I help you today?” he asked in a bored, gruff voice.
“Hello, we’d like to sell some items today. I have several Galvonson feathers, along with some Treant wood,” Milo said, pulling the feathers from his storage pouch. He also produced some Treant wood, though I knew he wasn’t carrying much himself given the size of his storage device.
Liane pulled out more Treant wood and placed it on the counter.
“Hmm, the wood’s from an Ancient Treant, very nice. It’s a pity it’s so broken up. These feathers are good though,” the man said, pulling out an eyepiece—not unlike the one I’d seen Troy using in the wagon.
“Right, I’ll pay three silver per feather. For the wood, four silver per kilo. Looks like you’ve got about 20 kilos here, so that’s eighty silver for the wood, and forty-eight silver for the feathers,” he said, putting the eyepiece away.
Milo coughed lightly. “This isn’t all the wood we have, but for some of the larger pieces, we’ll need a better rate. Would you mind pulling out what you have, Trev? You can keep a little for your experiments,” Milo said, looking over at me.
Shrugging, I walked to an empty spot on the floor and began unloading wood. My inventory showed 272kg in storage, so I kept pulling it out until I was down to 17kg. The only problem was how much mana it cost—by the time I was done, I was sitting at barely 35 mana.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
The man’s eyes grew wider with each piece I placed down. When I finally stopped, he stared straight at me.
“How much for your storage item, boy? To hold that much,” he said in awe.
“Oh, sorry—it’s a skill, not an item I could sell,” I replied.
The man visibly deflated but quickly stepped out from behind the counter to inspect the pile. Up close, he was even shorter than I’d expected, barely reaching above my waist.
“Yes, yes, this is good. You’re right. This size is perfect for crafting and will fetch a premium. Very well, let’s say six silver per kilo,” he said, still examining the pieces.
Milo smiled in a way I hadn’t seen before. “Nine silver.”
“Nine?! You’ll send me broke, lad! Best I can do is seven!” the man shot back.
Milo casually picked up one of the larger pieces, still smiling. “Well, we’re heading to Boltron tomorrow. I suppose we could just sell it directly to the woodworkers there,” he said, feigning deep thought.
“And sell to those uppity people? Bah! You wouldn’t!” the man snapped.
Milo gave a slight shrug. “You’re right, we will. No harm for us—we can store it safely. Alright, Trev, put it all back in your storage,” he said, glancing at me with a quick wink.
I recognised the play immediately; I’d seen this game before with Geo. Letting out a loud, exaggerated sigh, I started slowly putting the wood back. My mana was already dangerously low, so I hoped Milo’s bluff worked fast—otherwise, we’d be in trouble.
“Right, stop! Stop! Okay—nine silver,” the man barked, sounding almost angry.
I sighed in relief and began unloading the wood again. My mana dropped to just 15.
“It looks to be about 240 kilos there,” the man started.
“Two hundred fifty-five exactly,” I corrected. “My storage shows the exact weight.”
His eye twitched slightly at that.
“Right, so 255, plus the 20 over there—” he began, but Milo cut him off.
“Trev, do you mind quickly checking the weight of that pile as well?” Milo asked, his grin wide and knowing.
I caught on immediately and walked over, hoping I wouldn’t actually have to store it.
“Right! Okay, 255 plus the 26 over there,” the man rattled off quickly. “That’s 25 gold and 29 silver for the wood, and 48 silver for the feathers.”
Now wearing a begrudging smile of his own, he shook Milo’s hand.
I made a mental note: guild merchants are not above squeezing every coin they can out of you. Still, it was a good deal. I watched as the man handed over a heavy sack of coins to Milo before we left the store.
“Nice work, Trev—you’re a natural,” Milo said jovially.
“That was close. I’m down to 15 mana after pulling all that out,” I admitted with a nervous chuckle.
“Well, I’m glad it worked out. We each earned five gold and some silver out of that,” he said.
“Could we really have sold it to the woodworkers?” I asked.
“Oh, absolutely. The wood is probably worth about 15 silver a kilo,” Milo explained. “But he wasn’t wrong. The woodworkers are.. snobbish. The first elf would pick through everything, take the best pieces, claim he couldn’t afford the rest, and after that, it’d be nothing but headaches selling the leftovers.”
Milo actually shuddered at the thought.
A moment later, it struck me. He said five gold each, but there were only four of them. That didn’t make any sense.
“Milo, you said five gold each. Do you need to pay fees or something with the rest?” I asked, frowning in confusion.
“Huh? What do you mean, the rest? Five of us, twenty-five gold total—five gold and change each. Did they not teach you maths at the academy? And I don’t mean that as an insult. I’ll teach you if not,” Milo said, sounding just as confused.
“Oh.. are you sharing with Troy? I thought he had taken some wood already?” I asked, thinking I’d finally worked it out.
Before I knew it, a soft slap landed on the back of my head.
“It’s you, you idiot. You’re in the party now. You were just told—all earnings are split equally,” Liane said with a chuckle.
I’d get five gold? What…?
“Don’t spend it all on a sharpness enchant. That’ll be less than a gold in Boltron,” Milo said, giving me a look like he already knew where my thoughts were headed.
“Okay, okay, I wasn’t going to,” I said sheepishly.
“Right, we need to get back to the inn and save a seat for Hari and Jen. If we don’t, they’ll be grumpy all night after having to pull guard duty alone today,” Milo said with a laugh. Still, we picked up our pace all the same.
It was a pleasant night. Honestly, it didn’t really sink in until later that evening, when Hari and Jen congratulated me and welcomed me to the group. But what truly made it feel real was the next morning.
When I woke up to help get the wagon ready, the Innkeeper stopped me. All the baked goods were stacked neatly in crates.
“The baker dropped them off late last night. Said you’re welcome back anytime!” he said with a friendly chuckle.
Before I could reply, Jen and Liane pulled me aside. What shocked me most was that Liane was actually awake.
"Wait, wait!" I quickly ran over to store everything, quickly thanking the man before being dragged away
“Come this way, Trev,” Jen said, taking my wrist while Liane followed close behind.
They led me to the side of the inn, near the stables.
“This is for you. Welcome to the group,” Jen said as Liane took the reins and led over a dark brown—almost black—horse.
I had been on a horse only twice in my entire life. Both times were during the academy: one was a lesson on basic care if an officer asked, and the other was the bare-minimum riding instruction for carrying an emergency message in battle.
I realised I’d been standing there, stunned, for far too long, saying nothing—until Liane spoke.
“Well, what do you think? She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”
I just nodded. She really was an amazing horse.
“Well, come on. Don’t just stand there like a stunned goblin. Get over here so we can get you up. Have you ridden a horse before?” Jen asked cheerfully.
I shook my head, stammering out, “Twice.. I’ve ridden twice, but barely.”
Liane laughed softly. “Then today is not going to be pleasant. The horse’s name is Sable. She’s yours. You’ll need to look after her—feed her, groom her. We’ve packed everything you need in those saddlebags to get started,” she said, pointing to two leather bags strapped neatly behind the saddle.
The two of them helped me up onto the horse, and to my surprise, Sable was calm and steady.
“Now, we’ll guide you through the day,” Jen said. “You’ll ride at the back with us. A couple of basics: don’t hold the reins too tightly. Don’t lean too far forward or back—you want to sit centred. And for now, don’t grip too hard with your knees either. Relax and get comfortable. No sudden movements or loud noises until she’s used to you, okay?”
She led her own horse out of the stable and practically vaulted into the saddle in one fluid motion.
“You’ve got decent dexterity, right? That’ll help with balance. You’ll also need some endurance—riding all day will drain you,” she added.
And with that, we were off. It took a moment for Sable to start moving, but she seemed happy enough to follow the horses in front.
This was surreal. I was in an adventurer party. I had my own horse. I had my own money. I was absolutely certain I’d wake up any second and discover it had all been a vivid dream.