His mouth was quicker than his brain, but the latter came to the same conclusion a few moments later.
Calder nodded and resumed chewing.
“Good. People start to come here after eight, but rarely anything happens before ten. I expect you to be here then. Room’s in the back. Second door left. Pay the month in advance.”
And with a vague gesture of his chin towards a low passage behind the bar, that was that. Kraghtol felt a rush of excitement as he stooped down to enter the small passageway after handing Calder one of his coins and found the door Calder had mentioned.
The room was… small. Smaller than his bedchamber in Mistpine, for sure. And it was crammed full of worn-out furniture that was probably older than Kraghtol himself. But all that did little to dampen his spirits; he had made it. The first step, anyway. Tomorrow, he would enroll in the alchemist’s school and then… he would be a real alchemist.
It didn’t take him more than a few minutes to put his stuff into the room and another ten minutes of trying to relax before returning to the barroom, intending to get to know his new landlord and employer.
However, as it turned out, Calder wasn’t really the talkative type, so Kraghtol ended up doing most of the talking himself. The first guests arrived after sundown, and Kraghtol found them to be about as he had expected: poor. And dirty. And loud. Most of them were humans, with the occasional dwarf in-between. There were no elves, though,and Kraghtol remembered they had a keen sense of smell. Perhaps that was the reason for their absence.
They were friendly enough, though. After a while, Kraghtol was pretty sure he was the reason for that. The way they looked at him wasn’t exactly like the rest of the encounters that day, but one thing was universal: the underlying fear. None of them had seen a green skin before, and his general body stature was enough to quell any potential conflict. While that certainly made his job easier, it also left a sour taste in his mouth. It seemed like his appearance would always haunt him, and he would forever be seen as nothing but a savage. Once he was a student at the alchemist’s school, he would have to work even harder to make people look beyond that green skin of his.
Regardless of his mood, the night passed without incident, and he retired to his room long after midnight, feeling a mixture of relief and worry.
The sunlight shining through the dusty windowpane helped to banish his worries from the night, and the half-orc was full of determination when he left his room the next morning to search for the alchemists’ guild. Calder was not in the tavern when he passed the grimy bar room, and Kraghtol figured he was probably still asleep.
It wasn’t difficult to find the guild buildings. Most of the guilds were, unsurprisingly, in the central Commercial Quarter of Winterstone, where the streets were cleaner, broader and friendlier than in the Oldport. Once he passed the clock tower, it was almost as if he had entered a different city altogether. All the big guilds had large and imposing residences, one bigger than the other. The biggest building, with numerous golden ornaments and statues, was the headquartersof the Guild of Commerce, the richest and most influential of the guilds, at least in Winterstone. The building belonging to the Guild of Peace, which managed both orderkeepers and the military protection of Wardenreach against the many enemies past its borders, wasn’t much smaller, but considerably less flashy. Thick walls and small windows characterized the fortress-like building, which housed both the garrison and the prison. That wasn’t much of a coincidence, as the lowest ranks of the infantry were often criminals pressed into service.
In comparison, the Alchemists’ Guild hall was smaller, but located beautifully at the edge of the Commercial Quarter, bordering both the Silver Spires and the Park District. A considerable portion of the grounds was dedicated to an elegant public store where the guild sold custom-made miracles in a bottle to the wealthiest citizens and far less miraculous soaps and lotions to the rest of the city. Even though Kraghtol was reasonably sure this was not the right place to apply, snooping around in the less public areas of the grounds on his own seemed even worse of an idea. So, he stepped inside the beautiful store, only to be stopped immediately.
“Excuse me, sir, this is a shop for our esteemed customers. I will have to ask you to—”
A prim and proper-looking young man with a disgustingly haughty expression on his face stepped in his way and tried to usher him back out. The man was wearing an expensive-looking green robe — the color of the alchemist’s guild, as was tradition — with golden seams. Kraghtol shook his head, trying to clear his mind from the first impulse; the young man was a featherweight. Even with little effort, Kraghtol could easily shove him to the other side of the room and…
Kraghtol forced himself to smile as politely as he could.
“Sorry, I am sure I must look unusual, but I mean no harm. I am not here to buy anything, though, too, but to enroll in the guild school. Could you… point me to the right person for that?”
The clerk looked genuinely surprised at that, and after a moment of consideration, he answered.
“The admission office is not in this building, but in the guildhall. Take the path on your right, then turn left. It’s the first building on the right side. But I would not get your hopes up, sir. I have never heard of someone like you in the guild and…”
The man didn’t continue, but for Kraghtol, he didn’t need to. He knew the unspoken words of the half-sentence by heart now. He half considered a snappy answer, but stopped himself and nodded politely.
“Thank you. And thank you for your concern.”
Carefully controlled on the outside, he followed the directions and found himself in front of a relatively small building that was still at least three times as large as the tavern of Calder Rann.
He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself and his racing heart. This was it. This was what would make or break his future, and the half sentence of the clerk was still echoing in his ear. He could still turn around and leave. He didn’t have to make a fool of himself. It would be easy to just walk away and…
But he didn’t. Instead, he pushed against the door and entered the building. Inside, a counter separated him from a small office and an older woman sitting at the desk. She stared at some papers in front of her and didn’t look up right away. She was probably in her mid-fifties; her skin was fair, and her hair was brown-gray and braided into a bun.A small copper sign on her desk identified her as ‘Mrs. Urdson’ and the symbol of the guild accompanied her name: a rounded flask in green.
“One moment, I’ll be right with you…”
The woman didn’t even look up, but finished writing on the piece of paper in front of her. When the scratching of the quill finally stopped and shedidlook up, she twitched back as if slapped.
“Oh, my! What in the world are you?”
Kraghtol took a deep breath and answered with the steadiest voice he could muster,
“My name is Kraghtol Wulfspar, son of the honorable healer Merrick Wulfspar in Mistpine. And I’m here to join the alchemist’s school as a student.”
He had rehearsed that sentence at least a thousand times on the way here. Since it was official, he opted to use his full name.
Mrs. Urdson took off the small pair of gold-rimmed glasses and produced a handkerchief to polish them. Only after she put them back on did she try to answer.
