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Ch25- Hunters Guild

  The morning came much too quickly, Ozzy felt like his head had just barely touched the pillow when Emil was not only banging on the door but actively rolling him out of bed. Ozzy landed on the floor in a heap of sprawled limbs and blanket, his pillow unfortunately not having made the fall with him to cushion his landing.

  “Good morning Leviathan Slayer. You look rested!” Emil beamed down at him like a rooster whose greatest joys were the dawns first rays.

  “One of these day’s I’m gonna shoot you.” Ozzy grumbled, getting painfully off of the floor for the second time since entering the guest room.

  “Sure buddy, just so long as you don’t hit anything important, but Liza’s got breakfast going, and afterwards I’m taking you to the hunters guild. I even think Laina might be there.” He nudged Ozzy meaningfully, waggling his eyebrows at the sleepy gunslinger.

  Their breakfast was a quick one of sting crab meat and buttered bread, an odd combination for a breakfast but Ozzy didn’t mind. It was just as good as it had been last night, plus Emil told him that his mana reserves would grow as he digested more of the monster essence.

  After saying their farewells to Liza, Ozzy and Emil went off to the Hunters guild which was located on the tenth platform. On the upper platforms there were lifts hanging over the side of the platforms, though they only started once you hit the 8th platform. Anything below that was considered to not be worth the trouble by actually Myreluck government.

  Rather quickly Ozzy was coming to learn the first 9 platforms were not considered great places to be. They were all considered to be beneath the true city and largely taken up by the poorer citizenry, industrial groups, and street gangs.

  It was actually these “street gangs” who controlled most of the lower platforms, each area overseen by one or more of the larger groups which were constantly in conflict with one another. These gangs oversaw the majority of land in their areas and acted as sorts of anarcho-capitalistic-warlords. Though they thankfully largely left the general citizenry alone.

  Here beneath the 10th platform or the city floor as it was more commonly known the real problems were the petty thieves and street thugs. Beneath the city floor they existed almost entirely unchecked and outside of occasionally having bounties placed on them, being culled by hunters, or dying fighting other thugs the only true way to deal with them was to kill them yourself.

  It was a brutal ecosystem where the hard working people who lived down here had to cough up protection money from their already meager funds just to stay alive.

  That was where people like Emil came in however. Emil, as a core user, even an incompetent and incomplete one, stood head and shoulders above the average criminals of Myreluck. Thus some of the middling core users would band together, forming their own “gangs” so to speak and taking turns patrolling their small neighborhoods for their own form of protection money. It was like a crowd funded town guard, and the neighborhoods that participated in these watches eventually ended up like their own little fiefs.

  It was a Wild West style of governance, and people pretty much did whatever they wanted, with whoever they wanted, however they wanted. Some areas being restricted to certain groups, species, and even religions, and everyone had at least a handful of core users ready to go to bat for them. Which was important.

  The warlords who oversaw swathes of the platforms were plenty busy with their business, criminal organizations, and rivalries, enough so that they didn’t mess with the little guys. Inter neighborhood skirmishes on the other hand were far from uncommon. Especially the closer you got to the edges of a platform where the light was able to more easily reach.

  Land in the light zones was paid for in blood. It was important for growing food, which came at a premium in Myreluck. Feeling better and just being able to bask in the light, and of course easy access to other platforms. As while there were staircases that went up and down scattered around the platforms there were always better and safer options on the sides and even occasionally lifts. Certain neighborhoods going as far as to building their lifts, charging tolls to further enrich and empower their territories.

  It was like living in feudal Europe, and Emil's neighborhood was no different.

  Emil lived in the Firelight District, apparently it was so named because the neighborhood, or district as they called it, was headed by a core user with fire powers and it of course sat in the light zone. It was in fact only one neighborhood away from the edge of the platform, though from what Ozzy understood that bundle of territory was held by a group of core users that called themselves The Watchmen and had a group of warriors numbering in the high fifties, compared to the twenty or so in the Firelight District.

  Emil explained all of this to him as he took him to the neighboring Watchmen’s district to their lift. They’d both agreed it would be better than trying to climb all the way up to the 10th platform and though they had to stomach a 30 roq price tag it was well worth it.

  The 10th platform was a different world, the 11th platform was so high above them the light could reach practically all the way into the center of the city which Ozzy estimated to be more than 10 miles at least. It was helped along by lightly colored buildings and a sparkling ceiling that bounced light beams sometimes in almost blinding fashion all over the place.

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  In the center of the city they were met with a sprawling government district which was home to several organizations as well as the hunters guild. Each building being made out of sprawling wood work and massive ceramic tiles, each forming huge pieces of art. They reminded Ozzy of the earthly wooden temples in places like china and Thailand though they were all the sizes and widths of super stadiums, making him feel like an ant walking through a suburban sprawl.

  As they entered the hunters guild they had to pass through two massive doors that would have been excessive for even real giants. Not the normal ten foot ones they had walking around here.

  The inside of the hunters guild was decorated in a fashion consistent with the outside, and sprawling carvings depicted all manner of scenes, combat, explorations, discoveries, and treasures. Though the entry hall was nowhere near as tall as the building had been it still dwarfed everyone inside, and was higher than the first platforms ceiling had been by an order of magnitude.

  They continued down the hall, passing vendors flogging wares like snacks and keepsakes, groups sitting at tables recruiting for different organizations, job boards, notice boards, event boards, and just about every sort of board you could imagine. There was so much information and movement within the hall that it was almost anxiety inducing for someone as anti-crowd as Ozzy, and he made sure to stick close to Emil as his friend dragged them through the thick of things to a small counter off to the side of the action with a perky looking elf man.

  “Morning Johnethus.” Emil sidled up against the counter.

  “Emil my old friend, how are things?” The elf smiled broadly as he nodded at him, “How’s Liza been doing since you pulled her off the wagons?”

  “Good and Great! She’s been doing patrols for the district and says she enjoys it. It’s quiet next to the watchmen and aside from some trouble makers here and there she gets to hang out with Katie and they do their thing, you know girls.” Emil shrugged.

  “Oh speaking of Katie I heard Norman got torn up pretty good on his last stint out past the murk. You were on that detail right?” Jonethus asked leaning forward curiously.

  “That’s putting it lightly, but he’s fine now though, we had to ride with the wagon out of the water for half a day just to get here in time to get him all patched up. Had a bad run in with some raider arrows and black rot poison.” Emil explained, wincing as he spoke about the poison.

  Whistling the elf leaned back in his seat, his eyes going wide at Emil’s explanation. “How long before the Murk did you have to start?” He asked eagerly.

  “About 15 minutes riding above the waters worth.” Emil tugged at his shirt as he said it, the bad memory dancing about his eyes.

  “Wait so you’re the ones who—” he leaned forward to whisper, “you saw one of the Old Fins?”

  Emil nodded gravely in confirmation and the elf touched several points across his chest before looking upwards in a silent prayer. Jonethus stayed that way for several seconds before looking back down at them, seeming to get his game face back on as he spoke back up.

  “He’s the stranger then I’m guessing?” Jonethus asked.

  Astonished Emil leaned forward to whisper angrily at the elf. “How do you know that? Who told you?”

  Holding his hands up in mock surrender the elf defend himself. “Colber left a detailed report for it, had to or we’d have stopped contracting with him on account of recklessness. The report passed by my desk and went straight up to the general, no one else knows.”

  “Good, and it’ll stay that way right?” Emil asked, a note of steel entering the hunters voice.

  “By the stars you have my word.” The elf swore, making the same symbol from before as he spoke.

  “Thank you Jonethus.” Emil paused, his expression cracking as he realized he’d just been a massive asshole to the elf. Then sighing he pulled out a head sized bundle from his dimensional bag and handed it across the desk to the elf. “I’m sorry for giving you a hard time.”

  “I understand, believe me. Not every day you have someone smite the eye of a leviathan, people would want to talk. What’s this though?” Jonethus asked as he began to unwrap the bundle before stopping as Emil shook his head.

  “A gift, I got all in your face and you’ve never been anything but helpful and trustworthy. Consider it my apology.” Emil said.

  “Oh you know you don’t have to Emil, just doing my job-” The elf began but was cut off by Emil.

  “Nope, besides you’ll have to run Ozzy through the whole signup process, might as well get something out of that monotony.” Emil said, pushing Ozzy front and center.

  “Actually there won’t be any of that today, at least not with Mr. Ozzy. The general wants a smooth entrance for the new stranger. Said it was out of respect to someone who managed to wound a…” Jonethus coughed uncomfortably, “Rathkim he called it.” Saying the word seemed to physically pain the elf and he quickly moved on, rummaging through a desk drawer before pulling out a small stamp and motioning for Ozzy to hold hand out.

  “Are you going to stamp me?” Ozzy asked curious as to what the stamps purpose was.

  “It’s your hunter mark.” Jonethus said as he pressed the stamp down on the back of Ozzy’s hand. “It’s a very fancy bit of magic that’ll pop up if you push a bit of mana into it as well as serve as a form of identification. Just don’t go losing that hand, it can be a bit of paperwork getting another mark.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” With a gentle push of mana Ozzy watched as the back of his hand lit up and the spitting image of Frank holding his magical revolver was cast up into the air above his glowing hand.

  “Huh, that’s a new one.” Jonethus grunted, before making a quick yet very detailed sketch of the make on a small ledger.

  “What do I do now then?” Ozzy asked as he watched the projection of Frank dim and vanish as stopped pushing mana into it.

  “You take your first job of course! It’s something of a tradition to take your first job the day you get your stamp. Not that it’s a rule by any means, just what most folks around here do.” Jonethus said.

  Looking towards Emil Ozzy looked for some sort of confirmation as to whether or not they could. In response the tall hunter just shrugged, looking on expectantly at Ozzy. Sighing loudly Ozzy turned back to the elf.

  “Guess we’re taking a job then, any suggestions?” Ozzy asked.

  “Actually yes! Why not finish one you already started?” The elf said cooly sliding a piece of paper across the desk.

  A familiar muscled figure with bull horns had been drawn standing by six other figures. The mantaur they’d fought on the 1st platform.

  Across three of the figures beside the mantaur red Xs had been drawn over them, and under the heavy red marks Ozzy caught sight of his first contracted kill. The scaled man.

  “Shoot.”

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