Jack walked through the cobbled streets of Lundun towards the Adventurers Guild. Wary of running into the four remaining adventurers, he approached every corner with caution, his hand resting on the hilt of his dagger for comfort.

  Passing by the entrance to the alleyway where he’d had the fatal encounter with the large swordsman, he paused. “I wonder what happened to the body?” he muttered. I hope no one found the sword. He had plans to collect the greatsword in a day or two and sell it.

  Jack continued his journey, his eyes darting about like a rabbit expecting a pack of wolves to leap from the shadows. The closer he got to the Guild, the busier the streets became. A few dozen people were milling in and out of the building. The familiar hum of chatter and clanking armour filled the air.

  Fuck. This is stressful, he thought, passing by a woman with short hair and a healer’s satchel who looked a little like Linda. Nothing happened, no recognition or confrontation, yet his heart pounded like a war drum in his chest.

  He crossed the threshold of the Guild and exhaled, his shoulders sagging with relief. Though still at risk of being spotted, no one in their right mind would start a fight inside the Adventurers Guild. Doing so was considered an act of suicide. It didn’t matter who started an altercation; both parties would be cut down within seconds by the Guild’s mechanical, automated enforcers.

  Moving to the side, he scanned the tables for any sign of the four adventurers. The Guild was busier than the previous day, full to bursting with boisterous adventurers. Most tables were crowded. The barrel-chested barman poured drinks for a huge, wide-shouldered warrior missing his right arm. The clockwork band in the corner was playing a jaunty but off-key tavern tune. Occasional bursts of aether-sparks could be seen from the violin played by the tiny tailcoat-wearing automaton.

  Jack turned his attention to the nearest display board embedded in the wall. He placed his hand on the palm-shaped area, the runes glowed blue, and he logged in. His balance was still at 1 silver and 50 coppers. He browsed the list of available training rooms. The brass-and-glass interface ticked and whirred, switching to reveal the training rooms’ availability or lack of availability. He groaned in disappointment.

  “All the archery rooms are in use,” he muttered. Flicking through the room bookings, he checked the estimated wait times. “Three hours? Seriously?” One listing caught his eye. Training Room 13 had a special note:

  Level 1 Novice Archer looking to share room costs with five other low-level Novice Archers. Non-combat classes looking to practice their archery are also welcome. Plan to set the room environment at Novice Archer, level one. Beginner level one, unless the entire group agrees to other settings.

  Jack read the notice twice, then raised an eyebrow. Level 1 Novice Archer looking to share… He tapped the screen for more info. Four people were already signed up, and there were two free spaces left. The cost breakdown showed it would be 7 coppers each if six people shared the session. 42 coppers in total.

  He looked at the Guild members’ price list for the training room.

  One person 24 coppers.

  Two people, 26 coppers: Per person, 13 coppers.

  Three people, 30 coppers: Per person, 10 coppers.

  Four people, 36 coppers: Per person, 9 coppers.

  Five people, 40 coppers: Per person, 8 coppers.

  Six people, 42 coppers: Per person, 7 coppers.

  It would cost 1 copper more per person for non-members.

  “I paid 24 coppers to use the room on my own yesterday,” he muttered, scratching his neck in thought. “7 coppers is a damn good deal. I could train an hour a day for less than 50 coppers a week.”

  Whoever booked the room could leave the invitation open for others. They would then share the room costs between them. Overall, it would cost more than booking the room alone, with the additional costs to cover the Guild’s additional aether expenditure. Two people training used more aether than one. Six people used more than five.

  “Only a six-minute wait,” he said. “Might be fun… Should I?” He hesitated for a moment, remembering the two friendly men he’d chatted with outside the training room the previous day. He hovered his finger over the Buy emblem… then tapped it.

  Enjoy your time in Training Room 13.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  Please collect any valuables before leaving.

  The Adventurers Guild is NOT responsible for any injuries or lost property.

  Have a nice day.

  A minute later, he was heading down the corridor towards Training Room 13, a small brass token in hand, and his white oak bow slung over one shoulder. The corridor hissed with occasional puffs of spent aether-steam, the blue vapour curling near the brass floor grates and vanishing into ceiling vents.

  He turned the corner and saw them, a group of five, all with bows on their shoulders, waiting outside the room. A couple looked a few years older than him, one boy looked around the same age as Polly, and the others perhaps in their early twenties. One girl wore patched leather greaves, another had a quiver decorated with simple hand-painted vines.

  I hope they’re friendly, Jack thought, taking a steadying breath as he looked at the mixed group. Hmm… there are five of them, not four? He’d not had a good time with adventurers in his first life.

  As he approached, he caught part of their conversation.

  “…lley at the back of Ron’s,” a teenage girl dressed in brown leather armour was saying. “Burnt to a crisp by a Master Mage, is what I heard.”

  Jack’s foot hovered mid-step. Shit! Are they talking about me and the swordsman?

  “You ‘ere for the archery room?” a short young man carrying a longbow asked, breaking Jack’s rising panic.

  “Erm… yeah,” Jack replied, showing them his brass token. He glanced at the display on the door.

  Training room 13.

  Booked until 11:46am.

  Please collect any valuables before leaving.

  The Adventurers Guild is NOT responsible for any injuries or lost property.

  Session ends in 3 minutes.

  The youngest of the group, a boy around fourteen, looked relieved. He went to the door console and paid his fee. Training rooms could be booked in the main Guild hall or at the door.

  Was he waiting to see if more would join, Jack mused. Probably low on coin.

  “Thank the Gods,” another girl said, exhaling. “I’m so low on coin. I need every copper I can save.”

  “You’re such a copper-pincher,” the young man who spoke earlier teased. “You’ll only get 1 copper refunded.”

  “It’s 2 coppers, actually.” She nodded towards the boy who had just paid at the door’s console.

  “Yeah, drinks are on you then,” the young man joked.

  “I wish,” the other young woman said. “She still owes me for last time.”

  Jack smiled as the tension eased. He was right; adding another person only shaved off a single copper from each share, but it made a difference for those on tight budgets.

  “Are you an archer?” a young man with dusky skin and faint elven features asked Jack. It was hard to tell his age. He could be sixteen or over thirty.

  Jack shook his head. “No, Novice Scribe. Just taking up archery for fitness… and protection.”

  The young man nodded. “Same here. Apprentice Merchant.” He patted the bow slung over his shoulder. “Travelling outside the city’s not safe these days. My merchant group lost an entire caravan a few months back to goblins. Only two survivors.”

  Jack nodded in understanding. He’d had a few close calls in his past life when travelling between cities and towns. He remembered too well the dangers of the roads, bandits, beasts, goblins, and worse.

  The young man extended his hand. “Graham. My friends call me Grey.”

  Jack returned the handshake. “Jack. I’ll let you know what my friends call me when I have some.” He grinned.

  Laughter rippled through the group, and the others introduced themselves one by one to Jack:

  Ella, Novice Archer, who booked the training room; Nessa, Novice Archer with muscular arms; Pip, a cheeky-faced Apprentice Stable Hand who looked far too small to be carrying a longbow; And Toma, a fourteen-year-old farmer’s son who wants to be an archer in the King’s Army.

  Ella, the Novice Archer who booked the room, asked, “Is everyone good with having the room set to Novice Archer, level one. Beginner level one?”

  Jack shrugged. “I’m fine with varying wind and lights.” He knew the higher settings only affected the wind and light settings. The remaining options were user-specific; each of them could set their targets to move faster or even fire back.

  Most of the others nodded.

  In a nervous voice, Toma asked, “It’s my first time. Will I be okay?”

  Ella smiled. “You’ll be fine. The main settings only change the wind and lights. You can set your targets to remain still.”

  Toma nodded.

  “We should start on beginner level ten, it’s brutal,” said Nessa. She was grinning. “I got 16% accuracy last time. My shoulder was sore for days.” She rubbed her right shoulder.

  “Yeah, let’s throw the kid in at the deep end and put him off archery for good,” Ella responded, patting Toma on the shoulder.

  Toma gave a nervous smile.

  Jack glanced at Toma. The boy’s clothes looked old and patched. His bow was made from a single piece of wood and had a rough finish. Did he make it himself? He looked for the boy’s quiver, but he didn’t have one. No quiver. Probably doesn’t have the skill to make arrows.

  Many commoners fashioned their own bows from local yew trees. Though low-quality, it wouldn’t stop the system from offering the teenager the archer class when he turned sixteen.

  “I nearly got hit by an aether-blast last week,” Pip said with a smile. “It singed me fringe!”

  Jack chuckled. “That’s the fun part. Those blasts are a menace, will take your hair right off.”

  They all laughed; Pip had a shaved head.

  As they joked and laughed, the heavy door to Training Room 13 opened with a clunk of gears and a puff of blue spent aether-steam. Three sweaty, red-faced men emerged, each with bows slung over their backs and grins on their faces.

  “You’re up,” one of them said, nodding to the group. “Room’s still warm. Have fun kids.”

  “Thanks,” Grey said as he led the group into Training Room 13.