Enigmatic Crusade

Valen had stood outside the Raging Guild headquarters more times than he could count. Watching all the cool adventurers in their gear as they left on quests or returned from them. The building was one of the largest in New Rapids. 

Home to the strongest man in the city and City Lord, Roland Hoffstetter, the guild was at the center of the city. Aunt Fiona had explained once that the guilds were like corporations on the old Earth. Controlling everything, hoarding all the money, having people secretly killed. All of these were common events from those corporations. The only difference between guilds and corporations was the guilds killed openly. Levels were power and the people in power could do what they wanted in this world. 

After so many years living under their rule it was nice to finally be in their ranks. Well not exactly in their ranks but closer than ever. Valen wasn’t fool enough to think he was suddenly safe by joining Raging. Just more safe than at the orphanage.

Once the contract was signed, he and the other hundred people that had joined on Inauguration Day were taken to the guild headquarters and split up. The melee fighters, like the warriors and rogues, went off with one group. There had been a couple of rare Support melee classes as well, such as a Pugilist and Valen heard whispers that one of those that joined was a Barbarian, which was supposedly a quite rare subclass of a warrior. 

Peter left to go with his new brethren. Only a wave goodbye to see them off. Valen wished him luck. Peter’s group was by far the largest, and male dominated. There was something about boys and fighting with swords. Valen hoped that was a good sign and he would be among like minded people. The last thing he wanted was to have to heal his friend, but at least Valen supposedly had the skill to do so now.   

Distance fighters were then given their own guides as well. The mages and support classes with ranged attacks were afforded some special care, and were sent off to be outfitted for their coming training. This group was far smaller. Since Raging wasn’t actively recruiting distance fighters they had a smaller quota, so many were turned away. Which made Valen feel a whole lot better about not risking the support class. 

Valen’s group of healers was next. There were a wide range of them, but it was also a smaller group compared to the ranged and melee fighters. Only about 30 other people had chosen healers as their class and decided to join Raging. There had been quite a few Priests in the crowd when everyone picked their classes. But maybe joining the strongest guild in the city had scared many of them off. Or maybe they were individuals that didn’t really care about a class and only wanted to heal. Though joining a guild was standard, not everyone had to rely on the help of a guild like Valen and his friends.  

Either way he was taken with the other healers to go learn what the guild needed of them. Claire was on her own with the left-over Support classes that didn’t fit these categories and he hadn’t seen her since. Not that he had time to notice anyway, as he was escorted to a different section of the guild headquarters and introduced to his trainer. 

“You are all my bitches,” an older man said. He appeared to be in his late-30s. Which didn’t mean much since levels meant you could live longer and age more slowly. Wearing the robes of a priest it was pristine and a mix of gold with white stitching. Valen could practically feel how much stronger the man and gear was. “You can call me High Priest Julian. I run the Healing House and since I don’t want to bother to learn your names. I will refer to all of you as bitches and bastards.” The man had a twisted grin, causing Valen to let out an annoyed sigh. It seemed even being a probationary member of the guild wouldn’t afford him any decency. 

“Bitch number 1,” he said, pointing to a girl on the left side of the crowd. “Name your class.”

“Priest, I follow Livae,” she said, adding the gods name that she chose. 

“Eh, a brown noser,” the man said with a sneer. “Already sucking the dick of a god you haven’t met?” He asked. The girl opened her mouth but he talked over her. “Altars for the majority of healing gods are at the lower levels of the healing house. All of you that chose a god, make sure you pray to them daily. Before your rounds start, alright?” No one spoke. “When I ask a question, I expect all of you to say, yes, High Priest.” 

“Yes, High Priest,” the crowd said as he raised his hands. 

“Could be better, but good enough. You, Bastard,” he said pointing to a guy next to the girl. “Class?” 

“Um Druid,” he said. Instead of wearing the white robes he had the brown spacial bag at his back and a long gnarled wood staff in hand. 

“God damn, I hate tree hugger healers. Too many restrictions,” High Priest Julian said. “Next, Bitch,” he said and the group went on stating their classes. Valen was proud when it was his turn that he didn’t stutter. But then it was on to someone else. It wasn’t until the last person was called that the High Priest seemed genuinely happy. 

“A Cleric? Really?” Julian asked. 

“Uh yeah,” the girl said, her face burning red in embarrassment. She had a brown pack on her back and the white robes of a Priest, which meant she chose the Support class but the System deemed her as a different type of healer. Maybe even a higher grade Priest.  

“Well look at that. Someone with actual talent in the group,” Julian said. “You’ll be afforded more resources, but we can talk about that later. Next, let’s go to your quarters.” The High Priest turned around and everyone followed behind him. 

The day was still early as they walked down the halls. People walked around in priest robes and other garments, most sipping coffee, others making fun of the doe-eyed group. “Fresh meat,” was whispered more than once as they walked past. Valen ignored them. Simply happy to be there he was a little surprised how many more women were around him. 

The class seemed to be overly female-dominated from the male to female ratio he had seen from the thirty people around him. Only eight of them were male, but Valen had known that men didn’t typically choose a priest class when they could do something fun like being a warrior or rogue. Either way it was a small bonus for him. Who didn’t like to look at pretty women as they worked? 

Julian took them quickly through the halls and down some stairs. There was an elevator in the building, but the group was too large to fit inside. Either way Valen was excited to be in a building with actual electricity and running water. He had only been in a few so far. The orphanage hadn’t had access to any amenities like that. He had heard Aunt Fiona call the orphanage, “Like living in the Dark Ages,” more than once. Whatever that meant. 

When they got to the lower floor where they would be sleeping it was about how Valen expected. Instead of individual rooms they had bunks in a large communal room. Men and women were separated by a simple curtain. 

“This place has been empty since the last group became full members or died off,” Julian said. “Boys on the left, girls on the right. The curtain goes up now, and doesn’t get opened ever.” Valen wanted to complain about the lack of privacy, but he left the complaining to those that had actual standards. 

“Seriously?” A boy asked. “My father is-”

“I don’t give a shit who your dad is,” Julian cut off. “If you are here, then you are on probation. Which means your father ain’t shit, or you would be a full member already.” That made the boy shut his mouth.

“What about-” Someone else tried to ask, but Julian raised his hand, silencing them. 

“This is not a negotiation. Every year the recruits try to get their own room, but it’s not happening. You all stay in here. That way if you try to steal something, we have plenty of eyes around to tell on you. In the eyes of Raging, you are all on parole. Anything and everything you do will dictate if I vote that you would be a good addition to the guild or not. Cause waves, and I vote you off the island.” Valen had heard that term before, but never understood what the island was.

“Steal, start fights, grumble, or do anything else to piss me off, and you’ll be out on your ass begging one of the other guild’s to take you on. But they won’t. Why would they want someone that can’t follow simple rules?”

That quieted all of them. Valen hadn’t thought of that before. He was locked in Raging now. If things didn’t work out there, then he wouldn’t be able to go anywhere. Leaving the city like Claire offered would be his only option. That was the last thing he wanted. 

“Good. Drop your crap at a bed, if you have anything,” Julian said. His eyes glanced at Valen who was the only one without some kind of pack. “After that we will outfit you.” 

They chose their beds. The curtain was drawn between the boys and girls and they were quickly on their way to an armory. “The Priest robes, staves, or whatever you were given by the System are crap,” Julian said as he walked them back through the building. “They don’t provide stat bonuses, and the material is about as simple as you can get. Besides those of you that had the balls to choose a Support Class, you don’t have too much. I’m sure some of you noticed that the guild offered training. For now that will focus on healing and other aspects of that. But the guild is planning on mobilizing to dungeons soon, so we also expect you to spend your time training your body. Because of that, you get to choose weapons to practice with.” 

He took them to a secluded section of the guild. At the far end of a hall was an old woman behind a counter. “This is the bitch of a quartermaster that we are afforded,” Julian said, causing the old woman to flip him off. 

“Signing out weapons already?” The quartermaster asked Julian, then turned to the kids. “I’m Ressy.” 

“I like to get this part done first. Might as well get them used to it,” Julian said. He turned to the group. “Unlike the other trainers, I prefer you get weapons as soon as possible. Adventurers tend to be a stubborn lot. Though they need healing they don’t often know what is good for them. As level 1’s they will listen to you more easily if you have a weapon close by.” 

Valen wasn’t sure about that, but he wasn’t going to say no to a weapon. They were ushered into a side hall and shown into the most expensive room Valen had ever seen. Along the walls were giant weapons. Two handed glowing swords, huge hammers with six-foot long handles that towered over everyone, staves with glowing orbs at the end, it was all there. 

Ressy came up to the group and announced loudly, “These are the loaner weapons of the guild.” Valen gulped, his mouth salivating at the beautiful craftsmanship of the weapons laid out before them. “To use the high end stuff, you need approval. For now you are all on probation, so you may borrow these.” 

Grabbing a small bag off of a hook it looked like any normal bag. As Ressy began drawing weapons from the bag he realized it was another spacial one. Short swords, daggers, maces, staves, and other weapons were pulled out one by one. 

“Please choose a weapon to carry around with you. At the end of your probation you may request purchasing your weapon with your reward money,” Ressy said.

“As healers I recommend you all take either a mace or staff,” High Priest Julian said, picking up the very simple weapons. The staff was only five feet tall, and about two inches in diameter. Made out of wood it looked much like the one the druid had, but a little sturdier. The mace had about a foot long handle and had a cube of steel at the end. It resembled a hammer.

“Why not the sword?” One of the people asked. 

“If you wanted a sword, you should have picked a warrior,” Julian said. “Staves and maces are easier to learn and deal good damage for their size.” There was some grumbling going around as people looked over the weapons. Julian didn’t straight out say that they couldn’t pick a sword, but it felt implied. The last thing Valen wanted to do was make waves. He ended up picking the mace with most of the class, only a few ended up with the staff, or keeping their own weapons. Ressy pulled out more than enough of each weapon from the spacial bag, letting him know that they weren’t all that rare. 

“Along with your duties at the Healing House and throughout the guild. You will be afforded time to take a class on weapons and fighting once a week,” Julian said. “For now just get used to having them beside you at all times. If they get lost, the cost of them is on you.”

Valen’s hand ran along the mace, scared that he might actually lose it. But the last thing he wanted to do was set it down. Slowly swinging it he was starting to feel like a real adventurer now that he was getting some gear. 

“Alrighty, time for the real fun,” Julian said and they were on their way once more. Next up was their actual job, and Julian of course lied to them, it wasn’t fun at all. 

—

Valen spent every waking moment at the Healing House. Even though everyone was supposedly on the same level, he was still labeled as the one person that couldn’t say no. He was given every shit job imaginable as he received “training” from the guild. 

A patient shit himself? Valen will clean it up. Kid puking in his bed? Valen was on his way. There’s a patient with some weird puss leaking out of him, Valen go pop the boil. 

He took every job without question for the first week. Even when some of the other recruit healers were assigned to it they would push him to go do it for them, and he would, because he was there for a reason. To make something of himself. There was just one rule that every trainee had to follow. No healing. 

Though he had a skill for his class, he wasn’t allowed to use it. Julian was vague on the reasoning for it, but was adamant. If someone needed healing, it had to be done by a member of Raging. The recruits had to wait for permission to do it, but no permission came. Healers were always available and though they needed help fixing this or that on a person, they would always be the ones healing. 

It drove Valen a little mad, being unable to use his one and only system granted skill. He tried using it now and then, but the skill wouldn’t activate for some reason. He guessed since there was nothing to heal it wouldn’t work so he left it alone and focused on his work at the House. 

It was easy to see at the guild that there were different classes of people. Higher leveled individuals received the best treatment, those in the guild, even better somehow. Practically rolling out the red carpet for these individuals, Valen did everything he could to make himself useful to the healers, even if that meant taking the crap jobs. 

He didn’t mind. Though he wasn’t allowed to use his skills yet, he learned a lot. His Priest skills was to Heal, he learned quickly that the skill wasn’t a cure all. Bones still had to be set, pus had to be extracted, and patients had to be calmed down before the healing process could begin. Valen learned dozens of names for illnesses and symptoms that he had no idea about. Watching the real healers do their work he soaked up everything he could. And that was how he earned his first bit of money. 

As a probationary member his food and lodging was provided for so he didn’t earn any aurous. But when he ran to get some water or food for a higher level in the guild the person would usually give him a scrap as a tip. The small gold pieces were all the wealth in the world to Valen, and he continued to earn more and more. Now that he had a status screen he could hold onto the money inside of it, and because he was so busy, he didn’t spend it for the first time in his life. 

So Valen’s place in the world became something more than an orphan. He had actual value. His services needed and sometimes actually paid for as he spent his time learning and training. Though he hadn’t used his skills, or spent his stat points, he felt excited with each new day. After a short while he even started training with the mace. Making him more exhausted day after day, but helping him along with his dream of one day becoming an adventurer.

Due to his constant moving, learning, and different aspects of his day he actually gained a point in Strength, Endurance, and Intelligence as well. By the end of the week his status screen was filling out a little more. 

Since he didn’t need too many levels at this point he was content to hold onto his free stats. Though he could have been training all the months leading up to the Inauguration day, it was almost endearing to see that his stats could still rise. Driving him to see how far he could train before wasting the stats on aspects of himself that he could train to increase. 

So he kept at it. The first week turning into two, then three. Each day doing the grunt work of the healers with a smile on his face as he continued to train with the mace and through other methods they offered him. His Agility, Defense, and Vitality even rose by 1 by the end of the third week, all of his stats except for Fate and Defense were at least 5. 

Though the knowledge he received was sporadic, he was able to ask one of the trainers about Fate. It was supposedly your destiny. Unable to be affected by Free Points, your Fate only raised with certain events or thresholds met. Raising it would increase your luck, and supposedly what was fated to happen to you. No one knew for sure, but it was interesting to think about. 

Content with his role in the world he buckled down and did his best. Each day like the last as people came in with similar illnesses. Alcohol poisoning, legitimate poisoning, broken limbs, concussions, illnesses, and everything in between was treated by the healers around him. 

At the end of the third week Valen received a surprise when he was approached by High Priest Julian himself. The leader of the healers had walked them around the first day, and given lectures now and then, but mostly he was too busy to talk to them. Valen was a little nervous when the stronger man came up, but by that point he was used to talking to higher leveled people. 

“A new dungeon has been found in the outskirts of the Swamp. I signed you up for it if you want to go,” Julian said.

“A-a dungeon?” Valen asked, his voice cracking as he flushed in excitement. “Me?” 

“Yep,” Julian said. “Interested? You might get lucky and have the chance to heal someone.”

“Y-yes, of course,” Valen said. His dream of finally going to one of the mysterious battlegrounds he had heard about for years. “When?” 

“Tomorrow,” Julian said. “I’ll put you on the list.” With that the High Priest patted his shoulder and walked past a stunned Valen. He couldn’t believe his luck. All of his effort had started to pay off. And finally after weeks of effort he would get a chance to actually use his skill. Though a simple gesture, it meant all the world to him. 

Valen’s head was filled with all the wondrous things he had heard about in dungeons. All the riches and levels someone could dream of were in them, and Valen would finally be going. He couldn’t help but feel like his luck in life had finally turned around as he went back to his duties.