The journey to Lanton passed in peace—clear skies overhead, dirt beneath my boots, and the rhythmic silence of my own thoughts for company.

  The road itself was refreshingly uneventful, with one night spent sleeping beneath the stars, and hours of trekking in quiet reflection filling my days. Of course I would have preferred to take the horse—would have been quicker too, but we only had one, and my father needed it more than I.

  Nearing the evening of the second day I approached the gates of Lanton. I looked up upon the expansive walls surrounding the city, its sheer size and presence was somehow even greater than I'd remembered.

  Purple and gold flags whipped in the wind atop battlements and long stretches of the walls. The gate itself was massive, constructed to be large enough to fit multiple carriages side by side coming in and out simultaneously. Standing in front of the gate at regular intervals were a number of well armored guards, Lanton’s renowned city guard.

  I approached the side where a number of other travelers were making their way in and out. I even spotted some folks that looked to be adventurers. I eagerly joined the line, which moved quicker than I expected.

  “State your business,” the guard barked, barely glancing at me.

  “I’ve come to join the Adventurers Guild.”

  He gave me a slow once-over. “You and half the kids this season. Papers?”

  I handed them over. He scanned them, snorted, and stepped aside.

  “Try not to die. Welcome to Lanton,” he said with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. I didn’t mind though, I'd made it.

  As the evening sun began to set I found my way to an inn, figuring I wouldn’t have enough time to make it to the adventurers guild today.

  I walked into a rather large inn called the Sleeping Boar. It was rustic and dimly lit inside, the heavy smell of woodsmoke lingered within its walls.

  I spoke with the innkeeper, a stout but friendly enough fellow, and secured myself a room with little trouble. After all, in Lanton, all you needed to survive was a bit of coin. Luckily my father had thought of that and had given me enough to cover my expenses until I began earning my keep as an adventurer.

  I had intended to retire early that night, eating some stew and drinking a pint in the tavern below. I made sure to feed myself well as I knew I’d need the energy for the next day. While I dined, however, I began hearing whispers of something quite unsavory…

  Rumors of an orc—or something that looked like one, being spotted at the adventurers guild, were spreading around the tavern. Orcs were considered to be an evil race, so colluding with them only meant trouble, and I had my own reasons for being wary of them… It seemed some people were having doubts about the adventurer guild’s true intentions, with some even claiming the guild to be outright nefarious.

  I resisted the urge to inquire directly about it and decided I had better see things for myself first.

  Later that night, in the corner of my room, I sat cross-legged on the floor, candlelight flickering on my gear. I cleaned my blades in silence.

  As I extinguished the lantern on my bedside table, I began to worry a bit about my future and my goal of becoming an adventurer. If the guild was indeed corrupt, what would it mean for me if I started working with them… I tossed and turned a bit before finally falling asleep.

  * * *

  The morning sun had barely crested the rooftops by the time I reached the Adventurers Guild. The building was larger than I had imagined—three stories of dark-timber and stone, with tall windows and a sigil carved into a massive oak door: a sword crossed over a sunburst. A steady trickle of people came and went, some armored, some cloaked, and many of them looking far more seasoned than I.

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  I took a breath and stepped inside.

  The interior was warm and buzzing with activity. A large common hall stretched out in front of me—wooden floors scuffed from years of boots and battles, walls lined with boards covered in posted requests, and off to one side, what looked like a small tavern serving food and drink even at this hour.

  A receptionist desk sat at the far end, manned by a sharply dressed woman with glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. Behind her, a spiral staircase led to the upper floors, and a hallway extended deeper into the building. I approached the desk with purpose.

  “Name?” she asked briskly, quill poised.

  “Yukon,” I replied, “I’m here to register as an adventurer.”

  “Class?” she asked again, hastily scribbling notes onto her clipboard.

  “Ranger.” I said back, subtly trying to steal a glimpse of what she was writing.

  She glanced up at me briefly, then nodded and slid a form across the counter. “Fill this out. Wait to be called. You’ll undergo an initial evaluation before you’re approved. Standard procedure.”

  I took a seat on a bench near the back wall and began scribbling on the parchment. Name. Background. Skills. Equipment. There was even a space for “unusual magical affiliations,” which I stared at for a moment before leaving blank.

  While I waited, I couldn’t help but overhear a group of adventurers seated nearby.

  “—I’m telling you, that thing isn’t just some muscle-bound brute,” one said, lowering their voice. “I saw it spar with one of the instructors. Moved like a knight. Not like any orc I’ve seen.”

  “Still,” said another, “what’s the guild doing letting his kind in? You think mayor Redfield knows of this?”

  I kept my eyes down, pretending to still read the form, but the conversation made my skin prickle. So the rumors were true. There really is an orc here.

  Before I could dwell on it further, I noticed a side wall with a bulletin board labeled Forming Parties. Flyers and notes covered it—some formal, some scribbled hastily.

  I moved over and scanned them.

  A healer seeking frontline protection.

  A rogue looking for a mage and muscle.

  A group of three needing a ranged specialist.

  I tore that one down and studied it.

  “—You interested in joining that party?” a voice asked behind me.

  I turned. A girl with tanned brown skin, bright blue eyes, and a mane of tied-back braids leaned against the wall, wearing a half-plate chestguard and heavy boots. She had a rapier strapped to her waist and a grin that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  “They’re not bad,” she said. “Tough crowd. Might test you first, though.”

  “I can handle myself.”

  “Hope so. Not many Rangers wander in from the woods alone these days.”

  She extended a hand. “Name’s Selene. Sword-maiden, frontline, soon-to-be silver-rank.”

  I shook it. “Yukon. Fresh out of the forest.”

  “Welcome to Lanton.”

  Before I could reply, a man in a leather jerkin stepped into the room and called out, “Yukon. You’re up.”

  I turned, exchanged a quick glance with Selene, and followed the man down a corridor. He took my papers and led me into a large chamber with tall open windows and a high ceiling, the air cool and dry. Training weapons lined the walls, and a chalked ring marked the center.

  A grizzled instructor approached, eyes scanning me with faint disinterest. “Ranger, huh? You don’t look green, but you smell like the forest.”

  I gave a small smirk. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “Mm. Don’t.”

  “You will fight a sparring match to test your skills,” the instructor said, then pointed to me. “Don’t go overboard, no killing, and try not to get killed either.”

  I swallowed. No pressure.

  He motioned me into the ring, and I stepped forward. Across from me, a large door creaked open. And from the shadowed hall beyond, he stepped out.

  Easily seven feet tall, with dusky green-gray skin, a tower shield strapped to one arm, and a worn, expressionless face that looked carved from stone. He had some plate armor over his otherwise shirtless torso, his upper body corded with muscle and bearing ritual-like scars. The orcish warrior.

  My breath caught in my throat.

  That’s my opponent?

  The orc’s eyes met mine. There was no malice, just stillness—like a boulder waiting to move.

  “Begin when ready,” the proctor said, almost bored.

  I reached for my bow, heart thundering in my chest.