Chapter 53: The adventurers club
Loki guided me deeper into the guild hall, weaving past rows of long wooden tables and kegs stacked in the corners until we reached a smaller, quieter corner of the room where six individuals were seated around a heavy circular table.
"This here," Loki said, throwing out his arms with pride, "is the Adventurers Club of Waurweth Academy."
I blinked. Only six members?
"Small group," I murmured.
"Small, but elite," Loki replied with a wink. "Let me introduce you."
He pointed to a stout dwarf with a thick, braided beard and arms like tree trunks.
He wore a leather apron over his robes, smudged with what looked like soot and rune ink. The dwarf looked like he could bench press a horse.
"This is Borin Ironfoot. Earth and rune mage. And don’t let the beard fool you—he’s also the best blacksmith on campus. Man can turn a lump of steel into a singing blade."
Borin grunted, raising a tankard in greeting. "Aye. Welcome, lad. Don’t expect me to carry you in a fight, but I’ll make sure your gear doesn’t fall apart mid-battle."
Beside him sat two elves—one with silver hair tied back in a sleek ponytail, the other with deep auburn locks cascading over their shoulders.
The silver-haired one inclined her head gracefully. "Sylria Moonshadow. Wind and Illusion Magic." Her voice was smooth, almost melodic.
The other elf, sharper-eyed and with a smirk playing on his lips, gave a lazy salute. "Call me Elion. I’m a healer mage. Try not to slow us down, human."